Brent: Well, right at the beginning, I talked to Mike and Eleanor, and they were like, "Yeah, don't tell anyone this, but there's a place better than this, the Best Place, and that's where you're headed, amigo."
Chidi: I don't think they actually called you amigo.
Brent: I had to go through the year here, kind of a test, I guess, which, obviously, I aced. So at midnight, I'm in the first Escalade out of here, baby.
Simone: Brent.
Brent: Yeah?
Simone: Think about this.
Brent: Okay.
Simone: How could you get into the Best Place? You would literally have to be one of the most incredible people in the universe.
Brent: I mean, it makes sense to me. I don't know what to tell you.

Michael: Hey, bud. What you up to? Gripping and ripping?
Brent: Trying to. Just seems like the big dog don't wanna hunt today. Simone was very mean to me. Maybe even a little racist.
Michael: Well, listen. Art is subjective. But more importantly... No other way to put this, buddy. You made a mistake. Your actions hurt people. You have to take responsibility for that. You need to come back and apologize. Take the first step toward healing the neighborhood.
Brent: Fine, I'll be the bigger man. Just like my dad, when he single-handedly took on all those class-action lawsuits.

Michael: Everyone, gather around, please. Brent has something that he'd like to say.
Brent: [sighs] Okay. Regarding my critically-acclaimed novel, I am very sorry if you were offended. Okay?
Simone: Not an apology.
Brent: Yes, it was. Okay, fine. I'm sorry if what I wrote, which was perfectly okay, somehow made you feel like it wasn't okay. But you know what? That's on you.
Michael: Brent. Wrong direction, bud.
Simone: No, sorry, man. Either apologize for real or stop wasting our time.
Brent: Okay, you know what? I'm actually not sorry at all. How about that? Is that what you wanna hear?
Eleanor: Very obviously not. You know what? Why don't we take a break? Let's all get a snack.
Brent: Not until they give me the complos I rightly deserve.
Tahani: You want a complo? I'll give you a complo. I didn't think it was possible to write a book as awful as yours. I literally didn't think human beings were capable of such racist, sexist poppycock! Also, Chip Driver is either a private eye or the quarterback for the Chicago Bears, or the "world's strongest president." He cannot be all three!

Brent: Michael! Eleanor!
Eleanor: Brent, I'm so sorry. We don't know why all of this is happening.
Brent: Well, I do. This chaos is clearly all about me. This is the universe telling me that I don't belong here.
Michael: Brent, what do you mean?
Brent: I don't belong in the Good Place. I mean, obviously, there's a place better than this. I belong there, in the Best Place.

Eleanor: So you, Brent Norwalk, are dead.
Brent: Really? Well, that blows. Ah, you know what, maybe it's a good thing, actually. Some journalist was poking around, calling all these ladies who used to work for me. You can't even make a joke these days! Everything is so PC. And I was an equal-opportunity offender, okay? I made jokes about everybody, and by the way, I'm the furthest thing from racist. My dentist was a black woman. I just think people need to loosen up. So, where am I, exactly?
Michael: The Good Place.
Brent: Oh, cool. Good.

Eleanor: So, Brent, I see from your file you were in the materials business.
Brent: Oh, yeah, big time. Strings, chords, vinyl, synthetics, rubber... We do vulcanized now, so that's huge. Plus metals. Aluminum, brass, copper... What else?
Eleanor: Steel?
Brent: No, not steel. Steel's a sucker's game. Polymers, coatings, internals... You crack open an HVAC? That is all us. Is there golf here? There freaking better be.

Eleanor: Okay, well, why don't you explore around a bit while I go far away and if you need anything, you can always ask Janet. Janet?
Janet: [appears] Hi, there. How can I help you?
Brent: Oh, a secretary. Great.
Janet: Not a secretary.
Brent: Fine, fine. Executive assistant. Here we go with all the terms we gotta learn, right? Vice President of Helping. Captain Marvel. You know what I'm saying.

Eleanor: And now, Brent Norwalk, why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself?
Brent: Thank you very much. Thank you. Sure. I'm pretty interesting. I grew up in Chicago. A suburb, obviously. I went to Princeton University. No handouts, by the way. I earned my spot there. Just like my father and his father before him. I then inherited the family business, and in just 18 years, I grew Norwalk Materials from a $90 million company... to a $94 million company. One second. Hey, Janet?
Janet: [appears] Hi, there.
Brent: Perrier.
[Janet summons a bottle of water for Brent and disappears]

Eleanor: Why don't you tell us about a time when things didn't come so easy to you?
Brent: Mmm. Look, I've had my share of disappointments. I smartly bought Netflix stock at $38 a share, but I couldn't cash it in before I died. So, all that money's going to my dumb kid. But you have to press on, right? In the words of Martin Luther King Jr., who I personally believe was a great man, he said that, "When life knocks you on your butt, you jump back up and start throwing haymakers."
Eleanor: I'm not sure he said that.
Brent: No, he did. You're wrong. For me, Eleanor, it's all about taking personal responsibility. Not enough people do that. If you ask me, that's what's wrong with this country.
Eleanor: What country?
Brent: This was fun, Eleanor, but I have a tee time. Daddy no golfy, daddy get cranky. So, Chad, Duck Lady, nice to meet ya. Thank you. Thank you all very much. You were great.

Eleanor: The truth is, Brent, you figured us out. There is a Best Place.
Brent: I knew it! I knew it.
Michael: The Best Place is reserved for a select, upper echelon of good people. Sort of like a Diamond Elite VIP club of afterlife residents.
Brent: I was Diamond Elite. I swear. One time, I did shots with this pilot in the lounge. The guy let me fly his helicopter.
Michael: We know. That's how you died.
Brent: Right.
Michael: So, you'll all be evaluated, and then a very small group of the most morally upstanding residents get to go.
Brent: Oh, I see. So, it's like a "good deeds" contest? That's easy. I'm gonna crush this. Oh, and hey, mum's the word, right? Why tip off my competition? [a woman drops a fork] Oops! Looks like you dropped your fork. Let me get that for you. [to Eleanor] Did you get that? The fork thing? Or should I start writing these down?