Brooklyn Nine-Nine Wiki


VULTURE: All right, ladies, I don't got a whole lot of time here, so what do you say we make like Boyle's mom and you debrief me? 

BOYLE: Didn't happen, and I should know. She tells me everything.

VULTURE: Yeah, not everything, Chucky. She took off my undies. Hey, Peralta. What is that?

JAKE: This? 


JAKE: Oh, nothing. Just an open-and-shut case.

VULTURE: Well, it looks like a pretty fat file for a dunker. What is it? 

JAKE: Just some old lady has a missing...torso...that we can't find.

VULTURE: Put it in the Major Crimes pile.

JAKE: But we've already given them all of our felonies.

VULTURE: It's because I got a bet going with the captain of the A4 to see whose squad can solve the most cases. Winner gets to choose a tattoo for the loser, and guess what I'm getting him.

JAKE: Calvin peeing on the Tasmanian Devil? 

VULTURE: No, it's supposed to be a bad tattoo. Man, you're really stupid in the morning, aren't you? 

TERRY: Captain, we all want you to win that bet, but do you think maybe we could keep a few real cases? 

VULTURE: Look, I'm gonna keep it real simple for you. We only solve misdemeanors, wieners. Say it.

ALL: We only solve misdemeanors...Wieners.

VULTURE: Congratulations. You just called yourselves wieners. Dismissed.


GINA: Good morning.

HOLT: For whom?

GINA:  For you-m. Okay, I can't keep lying. Wuntch is here.

WUNTCH: Oh, there it is. The shriveled husk of Raymond Holt.

HOLT: Look, Gina, is that a talking raisin? 

WUNTCH: Enough foreplay. I'm here to discuss the department's new smuggling task force.

HOLT: The task force? Oh, I thought you'd be handing me another vapid PR assignment.

WUNTCH: I am. We need to choose a phrase to replace the phrase "task force." Our research suggests it's too aggressive.

GINA: What? I like it. “Task force” sounds like some sort of body spray for hot dudes.

WUNTCH: Oh, and, um, one more thing. Since your little stunt with the subway poster, I think you could use some supervision. Bob will be keeping an eye on you.

BOB: It's gonna be fun, Ray.

HOLT: But I'm his boss.

WUNTCH: Oh, ouch. How demeaning.


JAKE: Oh my God. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. Sarge, you got to check this out.

TERRY: Jake, what are you doing? We can't work real cases. This is a B and E.

JAKE: Oh, it's so much more than that. Look at these photos. Perp came in through the back window, set up the living room to look like a kid's tea party, didn't steal anything. Do you know what this means? 

TERRY: The victim still has their stuff? 

JAKE: The perp wasn't there to take anything except lives. Sorry, I always wanted to say that. I think this is the work of the Oolong Slayer.

TERRY: Seems like a stretch. If this is the Oolong Slayer, why isn't there a body?

JAKE: I don't know, maybe he got spooked before the vic got home, or it could be…

TERRY: Jake, you want a case so bad, you're making one up. Look, the slayer hasn't struck in five years. Chief Garmin set up a task force to find the guy and turned up nothing, and most importantly, the Vulture's orders were "only misdemeanors, wieners."

JAKE: Why do you follow people's directions when you could literally pick them up and throw them out the window? Hmm? 

VULTURE: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Was that the sound of a juicy file I heard plopping down on Peralta's desk? Yeah, it was. You just lost your overtime privileges for the month. Everybody, listen up. Anyone caught working on a case that I didn't assign loses their overtime. Capooch? 

ALL: Capooch.

JAKE: Capooch. Uncapooch. You didn't say "no take backs." 


VULTURE: Ah, there you are. I got something real special for the two of you. 

AMY: Great, what do you got? 

VULTURE: A month from today is my birthday. I need you to throw me a party, all right? Make it epic, surprise me.

AMY: Are you asking us to plan you a birthday party?

VULTURE: Yeah, Helen Keller. Pay attention.

ROSA: Did you choose us because we're women? 

VULTURE: Women love planning parties. It's in the Bible.

AMY: Unbelievable. What a waste of time.

ROSA: Disagree. This is an amazing use of time. We have complete control over that dummy's birthday party. We can ruin it.

AMY: Yeah, fun. I'll just mess up a captain's orders on purpose. It'll be so...I can't even fake it.


TERRY: Yeah, baby, I can pick up the crib, right after I get the groceries and before I start painting the nursery. Yeah, I can draw a cloud. I don't need a stencil. Okay, I'll get the stencil. Look, I don't know when I'll be home. I'll text you, okay? Ugh, all this paperwork is gonna straight-up kill me. How are you so chipper? 

BOYLE: Oh, simple. I eat a cacao nib every time I close a case.

TERRY: A what? 

BOYLE: A cacao nib. They're these happy little chocolaty delights from deep in the Peruvian rainforest. Here, try one.

TERRY: Do I look like a man who snacks? 

BOYLE: You look like eight circles with suspenders on. But these aren't bad for you. They're full of fiber and antioxidants. Go ahead, try one.

TERRY: Okay, fine. Just one. 

BOYLE: Mm-hmm.

TERRY: Damn, these are good.

BOYLE: And plus, they're organic and fair trade.

TERRY: Terry loves responsible agricultural practices. Mmm.


GINA: Uh-oh. Jake, you should not be here IRL.

JAKE: Gina, my old friend who I grew up with. So good to see you, and I have missed you so much. Is Holt in? 

GINA: Yes, of course he is, but he's in a meeting, and you can not be seen stopping by for chits and/or chats. You need to leave.

JAKE: Gina, I'm not here to waste his time, all right? I have an extremely dope, possibly even disgusting case, and I need to discuss it with him.

GINA: A case? Extra no. If Wuntch finds out he's working on a case, she will punish him. She's on the warpath right now, Jake. The warpath.

JAKE: Okay, copy that. Loud and clear. Don't want to cause a problem. I will skraight-up skedaddle with no further a-do-do.


JAKE: [Bird noise]

HOLT: What's going on? 

JAKE: Well, Gina said we couldn't be seen together, and I need your help. Looks like we've both got a pretty bad case of jerk boss.

HOLT: Yes, yours is an idiot, and mine is a fork-tongued lizard witch. The Oolong Slayer. He's back.

JAKE: I knew you would confirm my hunch. He's back to his cool-ass psycho ways. Great news, right? Aside from a serial killer being on the loose.

HOLT: What's your plan? 

JAKE: I'm gonna work the case in secret.

HOLT: Wrong. We're gonna work the case in secret.

JAKE: Holy crap.

HOLT: No one can know about this, understood?

JAKE: Understood.

GINA: Understood. What? I hang out in the men's room all the time. The acoustics are amazing.


HOLT: If I recall correctly, the Oolong Slayer last struck five years ago. He left behind no DNA or fingerprints, but he did leave his calling card, a tea bag in his victim's mouth.

JAKE: Yeah, how cool—I mean, awful is that? 

HOLT: Very cool—I mean, awful. What's our strategy? 

JAKE: One, reexamine all the task force's files, two, check all B &Es against the slayer's MO, and three, think of something supercool to say when we arrest him. My leading contender? "You're going to jail for oolong time."

GINA: Jake, that's really good.

JAKE: Right? 

HOLT: Let's not overlook the fact that he turned his crime scenes into tea parties for dollies.

GINA: Which suggests preadolescent trauma leading to a pattern of criminality that probably began as a juvenile. I'm taking an abnormal psych class, and everyone in it is obsessed with me.

HOLT: You look into the B&Es and I'll check out the juvie angle. Now, before we begin in earnest, I'd like to propose a toast. 

JAKE: That's what globes are for.

HOLT: A 25-year-old port seems appropriate.

JAKE: I would have gone 10. I don't know what port is.

HOLT: To catching a serial killer.

JAKE: To catching a serial killer.

GINA: To Rihanna, because I love Rihanna.


TERRY: Okay. Case closed. What time is it? That's right, it's nib o'clock. Whoo, new case, new nib. Read 20 words, that's a nib. Hmm, that nib was kind of small.

BOYLE: Hey, Sarge? You may want to slow down on those things.

TERRY: Things? These are the precious jewels of the rainforest, Boyle.

BOYLE: I don't mean to overstep here, but you're looking a little...fat. Oh, boy.

TERRY: How dare you? You can't comment on my body. This is a workplace. Now I'm feeling objectified by your male gaze. 

BOYLE: Absolutely not. Sir, just listen.

TERRY: No, I don't want to listen, Boyle. You are trying to shame me, and that will not fly.

BOYLE: Okay.

TERRY: Now I need some more nibs just to calm down.


GINA: Jake, dope alley.

JAKE: I know. I think this is where Batman's parents got killed.

HOLT: I'll take your word for it. The juvie angle didn't pan out. 

JAKE: Neither did the B&Es, but I traced the label on the slayer's oolong. Turns out he got it at Chang's Medicinal Tea Shop.

HOLT: Good work, Peralta.

GINA: Breakthrough selfie? 

JAKE: Why not? Breakthrough.


JAKE: So what's the plan, boss? 

HOLT: We create a diversion while Gina copies his customer files.

GINA: My thumb drive looks like a watermelon, because I adore the summertime.

JAKE: Oh, I love that.

HOLT: Let's do this. Oh, hey, pal, that's my ginkgo. 

JAKE: It's my ginkgo now, old man.

HOLT: I'm still young enough to beat that ginkgo out of your hands.

​​​​MILTON: Hey, knock it off back there!

JAKE: This is so much fun. Hit me in the face. Oh, that was a terrible suggestion. Oh. All right. Western medicine rules! 


VULTURE: All right, sluggers. Let's see what you got for the big b-day bash.

AMY: I thought you wanted us to surprise you.

VULTURE: It's a figure of speech, Detective Stupid-ago.

AMY: Well, I was thinking a DJ, two signature cocktails, passed hors d'oeuvres—

VULTURE: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Passed hors d'oeuvres? What is this, a fundraiser for French dorks? 

AMY: passed hors d'oeuvres? 

VULTURE: I can't even answer that. All right, tough guy. What do you got planned?

ROSA:  I don't know. Meet at a bar and...drink there.

VULTURE: That's it? Well, it's still better than Santiago's. Look, this is real important to me, all right? My brother's hot wife is gonna be there, and I haven't seen her since his funeral.

AMY: Wow.

VULTURE: Yeah, right? I mean, you only get one shot at your brother's widow.

ROSA: Just go.


JAKE: Partner.

HOLT: Partner. Not many people buy that tea, and only one has been doing so since the killings first began, and he has a record. His name? Braxton O'Reilly.

JAKE: He's a maniac. Arrested in '84 for torturing an animal? Oh, this is our guy. Oh, man, just a squirrel? 

HOLT: Still counts. Let's get that psycho.


JAKE: NYPD, nobody move.

HOLT: Where is Braxton O'Reilly? Where is that psycho monster? 

AGATHA: He's dead.

HOLT: Our condolences.


VULTURE: You were working a case. I freaking knew it. You're a liar.

WUNTCH: And you. You can't do anything except disobey orders and screw up.

BOB: I'm disappointed too.

WUNTCH: No one cares, Bob.

BOB: I’m sorry.

WUNTCH: And after all your so-called detective work, you didn't even get the right guy. Raymond, Raymond, Raymond— 

HOLT: It was an error, but— 

WUNTCH: Do not interrupt me. Raymond, Raymond, Raymond, Raymond. Seven times, once for every day your juicy, insubordinate ass is suspended.

VULTURE: Same goes for you, Peralta. Except for the juicy ass part, because your ass is stupid. 

WUNTCH: Now get the hell out of my office.

JAKE: Wait a minute, sir. You know what? Screw this.  It's ten days now. Shouldn't have gone back in.


JAKE: I am skraight-up depressed. Amy's been doing her best to cheer me up. She gave me this sticker this morning just for waking up.

GINA: Ew, it's like you're dating your teacher.

JAKE: I know. It's so hot. Meanwhile, Holt won't even talk to me. How is he, by the way? 

GINA: Honestly, terrible. I've only heard from him once this week, and that was to tell me he'd finally come up with a new, non-threatening term for task forces. Y'all ready for this? "Do groups."

JAKE: Wow, that sucks tremendously. Can I have another port? 

GINA: You're still drinking that stuff? 

JAKE: Yeah, Holt got me hooked on it. I even got a bottle for my house. It's really classing up the booze and take-out menus shelf. Wait a minute. I think I just figured something out. I got to go.

GINA: Aren't you forgetting something?

JAKE: Uh... 

GINA: No, pay your bill. Damn, who raised you? 


ROSA: Oh my God. You friended the Vulture? 

AMY: Well, he's not telling us anything, so it was the only way to figure out what he likes.

ROSA: Maybe this will help. He just said his favorite color is underboob. Look, Amy, you're a good detective. You don't have to perfectly plan some butthead's birthday party.

AMY: I'm sorry, but I believe that hard work pays off.

ROSA: Shut up.

AMY: Excuse me?

ROSA: No, no, no, shut up and look. You're completely right. Your hard work just paid off.

AMY: The Vulture is in a band? Fantastic Jack and the Junkyard Rats.

ROSA: Just when I thought he couldn't be any more the worst, he out the worsts himself.

AMY: I have an idea.


HOLT: I don't know why you insisted on eating here, Gina. It seems like your average greasy spoon.

JAKE: Pardon me. Did one of you order the hot plate of justice?

HOLT: Peralta, what are you doing here? 

JAKE: Saving New York City from a maniacal— 

WOMAN: Um, excuse me? Are those my eggs? 

JAKE: You kind of interrupted an incredible moment, but here, take that.

HOLT: No, no, we can't be seen together. Gina, did you know about this?

GINA: Uh, tricking you was the only way I could get you to talk to him. Plus, you know I heart intrigue.

JAKE: Sir, take a look at these photos. None of the victims had any alcohol in their apartments. Not even a dusty bottle. You want to know why? Because they were all sober. They all attended 12-step programs, none of them the same one, but they all have the same leader, a creep with a record of torturing animals. I'm talking dogs. I found the Oolong Slayer, and his name is—

WOMAN: I never do this, but I kind of ordered rye.

JAKE: Ma'am, I'm not a waiter, okay? I'm trying to blow my friend's mind over here.

GINA: Could someone get this lunatic some rye?

JAKE: His name is James Dylan Borden, and he works the night shift at: creep-a-palooza, the mannequin factory in Red Hook. I'll pick you up at 8:00.

HOLT: Are you insane? We were just suspended for screwing up this case. I shouldn't even be talking to you. Wuntch can probably hear us right now. She has super sonar hearing, because she's a bat.

JAKE: Sir, we're tracking a serial killer. There's nothing better. We're living the dream.

HOLT: That's your dream. Mine was to run the Nine-Nine, and that will never happen again. Just give the case to Major Crimes.

JAKE: Wow. Never thought I'd live to see Holt side with the Vulture and Wuntch. Mark the day, Gina. May 18th at 4:00 p.m.

GINA: Oh, honey. We're well into October.

JAKE: Really? 


TERRY: Hey, Charles. I thought you should know. I heard what you said, and it really sank in. I'm off the nibs.

BOYLE: Really? 

TERRY: Of course. I'm Terry Jeffords, and when I put my mind to something, I do it. My resting heart rate is six. Six, Boyle. You know, the rest of you could learn a little something from me. Sure, sometimes we fall down, but it's how we back up that matters. We need to look our failings in the eye and say, "Not today. Not today, nibs." 

BOYLE: Oh, Sergeant...

TERRY: Fine! I'm not better. These nibs are just too damn delicious. 

BOYLE: I don't think the nibs being too yummy is the problem. I think right now, there's too much on your plate—metaphor intended. You're stress eating.

TERRY: That's even worse! The stress isn't going anywhere. I'm about to have my third kid, and they just get more stressful over time, man. Oh, nibs, what am I gonna do? Help me.


JAKE: Huh. Why would a psycho want to work here? Got you. 

BORDEN: Looking for me? 

JAKE: Nope, just taking my gun for a walk through the nightmares factory.

BORDEN: Nice try, cop. But you and I are gonna have a little tea party.

HOLT: Am I invited? Drop the weapon.

JAKE: Okay, slayer. Prepare to go to jail for oolong time.

HOLT: Now say "punk." 

JAKE: Punk.

HOLT: Punk! 

JAKE: I said it.


HOLT: Thank you, Peralta.

JAKE: What are you thanking me for? You're the one who showed up and stopped him from shooting me in my beautiful face.

HOLT: No, for giving me one last chance to be a real cop before going back to a lifetime of PR drivel.

JAKE: Sir, we just caught a serial killer. I've wanted this since I was four years old.

HOLT: That's troubling.

JAKE: We did something special here. I'm honored our names will appear next to each other on the arrest report.

HOLT: No, no. I think you should take sole credit. Wuntch will only use it to sink me. I'm glad your dream came true, Peralta. Now, if you'll excuse me, the drivel calls.


VULTURE: Hey, turd monkeys. It's time to celebrate me. Let's rock! Whoo! 

ROSA: His tearaway pants just got stuck. Hiring him to play his own party is straight-up brilliant.

AMY: Yep, because everything he does is a prank on himself.

ROSA: Wow, you're an evil genius. Next time I want to hurt someone, I'm coming straight to you. 

AMY: Aw, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.

VULTURE: All right, this next song is called "Mom’s in the Shower." 

BOYLE: Sarge, I know you have every right to be stressed out: a new kid on the way, Sharon's on bed rest, global warming... 

TERRY: This preamble is making me nibby. Get to the point.

BOYLE: I got the squad to volunteer a little bit of their off time to help you and your family out. I'll make dinner once a week. Everyone else volunteered babysitting time, and Hitchcock offered massage sessions for your wife— 

TERRY: What? 

BOYLE: So I pepper sprayed him.

TERRY: You're a good man, Charles. How can I ever thank you?

BOYLE: Start taking care of yourself again. I miss those gross, overly large muscles.

TERRY: Lay off my body, dude. I clearly got some stuff to work through.


JAKE: Chief Garmin, thanks for meeting with me. So I have a guy in custody on an attempted B&E.

GARMIN: You scheduled a meeting with the chief of detectives to tell me that? 

JAKE: I did. Oh, I should probably also mention, he's the Oolong Slayer, and this is every bit of evidence you'll need to put him away for good.

GARMIN: Really? 

JAKE: Yeah.


JAKE: Right? 

GARMIN: I spent a decade looking for this monster, and you found him all on your own.

JAKE: Yeah, pretty easily, actually. I imagine that'll look pretty bad for you.

GARMIN: Excuse me? 

JAKE: Unless, of course, I decided to withhold that information, keep it just for myself as a secret. Tell everyone it was you who figured it out.

GARMIN: Why would you do that? What do you want? Your own "do group"?

JAKE: No, I actually had something else in mind.


AMY: Captain Holt? This can't be real. Someone please see him before I punch myself in the face.

HOLT: Hello, squad.

TERRY: Oh my God. Captain? 

HOLT: Good news. The Vulture is out, and I'm back.

TERRY: Glad you're back, Captain.

BOYLE: We really missed you.

TERRY: How'd you get them to reinstate you?

HOLT:  I didn't. I guess someone just had my back.

BOYLE: Wait, where's Gina? 

HOLT: She wanted to make a proper entrance.

GINA: Or was I never really gone?