Ron Swanson: So... what would you like to talk about?
Leslie Knope: Oh, come on, Ron. We were friends for ten years.
Ron Swanson: We were work proximity associates.
Leslie Knope: We were friends. And now we're not. And once again, it is up to me to save our friendship, and I will do so using the most powerful tool known to man: a well-organized chart. Three years ago, I accept a job at National Parks. You and I see each other less, admittedly, due to my busy schedule and your utter lack of interest in maintaining adult friendships.
Ron Swanson: Work proximity associate-ships.
Leslie Knope: Three months later, April comes to work for me. We throw her a party. At her request, the party's theme is "Zombie Teenage Biker Gang Pizza Jamboree."
Ron Swanson: I remember. You made me wear a leather jacket.
Leslie Knope: That is the last time you and I see each other for more than five minutes. Three months later, you come and visit me at my office on the third floor for the very first time. One week later, I return from a trip, and I find out you have quit the Parks Department and you have started your own building company without even bothering to tell me. "Oh, well," I think to myself. "You know, it was only a matter of time." And then, two months after that, Morningstar, the final twist of the knife.
Ron Swanson: Oh, for God's sake.