Careful.
You only get one shot at this, Peralta.
Don't worry. I know what I'm doing.
I saw the first 15 minutes of The Hurt Locker.
Hurry. The stench is too much.
We gotta get those shoes out of here.
How much time do we have?
Scully ate his potpie 30 minutes ago.
So we probably got 10 minutes left on this nap.
Twelve if he's turkey-tired.
All right, come to papa.
It's trapped. Abort mission!
I have an idea.
Let's send these shoes to hell.
Oh, wait.
Eh, it just smells worse than before.
Oh! Ugh!
Abort.
Whoa. Why are you here before me?
Am I asleep? Is this a dream?
I am early because Jimmy Brogan is here today.
Why do you care so much about some old reporter?
"Some old reporter"?
Is the sky just some big blue hat that the world wears?
No. And no one has ever thought that.
My point exactly.
Jimmy Brogan wrote The Squad about badass New York cops in the '70s.
It's the best book I've ever read.
And I've read 15 books.
Fifty books is not a lot.
Wait...
You said 15?
The Squad is what made me decide to become a detective.
And it was my first book report.
"The detectives wiped the mobster's blood off their boots
"and found the scag."
Scag is heroin.
And the book says it's so good you can never stop doing it.
See me after class, Jacob.
Fun side note, I later lost my virginity to Mrs. Stratton's daughter.
It was... Very fast.
Nice!
Mr. Brogan... Hmm.
These are Detectives Santiago and Peralta.
Mr. Brogan, I am a huge fan of your book.
Would you mind signing my copy?
I'd love to.
It's always nice to meet a fan.
You can just make it out to "Death Wish."
That's what everyone calls me, because I'm always
first through the door.
You go through doors normally, and everyone calls you "Pineapples."
My grandma calls me "Pineapples" and I regret telling you that.
Those New York cops from the '70s you wrote about were my idols.
I mean Gaminsky, Cavanaugh, Quigg...
Those guys were the real deal.
I once saw Gaminsky choke a hippy to death with his own ponytail.
Illegal! Love that.
Mr. Brogan is writing an article about
how Brooklyn detectives have changed
in the 35 years since The Squad.
He'll be observing the two of you on your Internet identity theft case.
I hope Mr. Brogan's presence doesn't prove to be a
distraction to you, Peralta.
Distracted? Me? No, sir.
Evil would love that.
But I'm not giving evil the satisfaction.
Not today.
Where's the can? I gotta unload.
Unload. Great choice of words.
It'd be an honor to show you, sir.
All right. Everyone's here.
Today we're going to work on our courtroom demeanor.
Pass!
This seminar is not optional, Diaz.
You're testifying in an aggravated assault case tomorrow.
The DA is worried about how you present yourself on the stand.
Why? I'm fine on the stand.
Look, I'll make this real simple, so even these dum-dums can understand.
Man did crime.
I'm sorry. Can you make her stop doing that weird thing with her face?
Crying?
And when this is over, I'm going to find you,
and I'm going to break those little fingers.
Miss Diaz, please stop threatening the stenographer.
This is an important case.
You need to do well.
Fine, I'll take your dumb-ass seminar.
That's the spirit!
Someone has placed tiny scanners inside ATMs
to steal card numbers and PINs, which they sell on the Internet.
Oh, good God! Why do you smell like an ashtray?
Oh, sorry, Mom.
It's the only way I can cope with the stress of the job.
Anyway...
We're running an algorithm to comb through the transactions,
looking for a pattern, which will lead us to the perp's IP address.
Got it. Boring mumbo-jumbo.
Well, you could think of the algorithm as a boot
and the IP address as some poor slob's skull. You know?
We used to call guys who bragged about
sitting around all day "Hair Bags."
Except for Detective Finaldi.
You know, he had to sit around all day.
A mafia thug pried both his kneecaps off with a crowbar.
Gah, so lucky.
This kind of data-driven police work has reduced crime by over 70%.
I know hair bag work when I see it.
Do me a favor, wake me when your shift is over.
No way.
That is amazing.
All you need is for a jury to like you.
If they like you, they'll trust you.
Fine. How do I get these morons to like me?
Don't call them morons.
Good instinct!
Okay.
Sit up straight. All right, be aware of your hands.
Okay? Don't be afraid to smile.
And if you need to buy time you can always just say,
"To be perfectly candid."
I like that.
And always make good eye contact.
But don't stare at people. Yeah.
You got to blink.
But don't blink too much. Or too fast.
I think the bigger worry is slow blinks.
Don't blink too fast or too slow, or too much or too little.
I know how to blink!
Quick question, sir.
You know how we've been trading favors back and forth
and it's your turn to give me one?
None of that is true.
Yeah, I know.
Please, can I jump onto a sweet mob-related homicide?
There are no "sweet" mob-related homicides on which to jump.
Boom.
There's one at the Seven-Three.
Maybe I should roll over there, help out.
Brogan could tag along, maybe write some stuff down.
Why do you idolize that man?
And the time he wrote about?
Because the '70s were amazing.
I mean, everyone had thick, juicy mustaches.
And all the clothes were orange and flammable.
The '70s were not a good time for the city or for the department.
Corruption, brutality, sexism.
Diaz or Santiago never would have made detective.
And an openly gay man like me? I never would have been given a command.
There were very few black detectives.
Did I ever tell you what my first day on the job was like?
Hello. I'm Raymond Holt.
Are you here to turn yourself in?
Oh, yeah, that's really messed up.
But the guys that Brogan wrote about, they were great detectives.
I mean, they were legit.
Some of them were legit.
Some of them were just Brogan's drinking buddies.
Sir, that is a brilliant idea.
It wasn't an idea. It was a scathing indictment of your personal hero.
Eh. Six of one.
This is the best.
Drinking with Jimmy Brogan.
So tell me more about Quigg.
Could he really light a matchstick on his face?
One time during a drug bust, he got one of his fingers shot off.
He didn't even flinch.
He just picked it up and used it to flip off every Puerto Rican in the place.
And that's my cue. It's late.
Are you kidding?
The old guard drank till dawn,
ate some coffee grounds and started the whole day all over again.
I eat coffee grounds!
Sure you do, Pineapples.
How about another round?
Are you kidding me? I want to hang with you till one of us dies.
Look, I'm tired of talking. Why don't you tell me some of your stories?
Great.
Because I got some stories that'll make Training Day look like Super Troopers.
It's not... Bartender? Two scotches.
You got it.
No, no. He meant two bottles.
What?
I mean, yeah.
Here you go.
All right.
You'll never get me! You'll never get me!
We already got you, idiot.
Look who's here.
How was your night of old school drinking? Hmm?
Pretty hungover?
Shh.
Turn off your mouth, siren.
Here are the texts I got from you last night.
"Best night ever."
"Why Scotch burn so good?"
"Was his name in Serpico?"
"Who's the friend of yours with the ping pong?"
And, lastly, a picture of you
on the subway platform eating Chinese chicken salad with no shirt on.
Ha!
Well, last night was awesome.
We had an epic night of bonding that I will never forget.
Do it! I believe in you!
Throw it!
I believe in you!
Man, I wonder if Brogan's okay.
He's 65 and he drank two bottles of Scotch.
He might be dead.
He looks fine to me.
Morning, kid!
How you doing?
Oh, hey. So good.
I feel great and I definitely don't think it's burning hot in here.
Well, I'm around.
Grab me if anything develops in your case.
You got it.
That hurt so bad.
Let me know when he's gone so I can slide onto the nice cool floor.
He's gone. Great.
Mmm.
Ooh!
My whole body has dry-mouth.
Why are we meeting in the ladies room?
It's the perfect place for our second lesson.
Courthouse wardrobe.
What's wrong with the way I dress?
You know, some people might say
that all the black leather kind of makes you look like a evil villain.
Not me. I think you look like a sexy motorcycle.
Boyle. Pull it together.
Yeah.
We need to soften up your look.
My wife and Charles' mom donated some clothes.
Your wife and Boyle's mom are both blind?
I look like Arsenio.
So it's perfect?
That's actually my wedding suit.
No.
Yes.
No. No.
That is great. Perfect.
You look beautiful-ly appropriate for court.
Scully? Hey, Jake?
You've been alive forever.
How did you used to cure hangovers?
Oh, I didn't drink.
I was, however, extremely into cocaine for most of 1986.
I got to tell you the truth, Hitchcock, can I tell you the truth?
You and me, man, we're going to be co-Captains.
But first I'm taking you to Japan!
I'm already packed!
I had three heart attacks that year and declared bankruptcy.
Hitchcock turned out just fine.
My grandpa was an old school cop.
This was his hangover cure.
Raw egg yolks.
You look like a corpse we just pulled out of the river.
Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who OD'd in his own pool.
Big difference.
I told you not to let Jimmy Brogan distract you from your work.
So I assume you're not too hung over to do said work?
Nope.
It's like I never even drank.
And that's not a hangover cure?
What, that? Nah, it's just some...
Protein...
For my guns. I drink one every morning before I lift.
So...
Ugh!
So good.
You can barely even tell it's a chicken embryo.
You should drink it all.
For your guns.
Yeah.
It's just like, fitness, right?
Mmm-hmm.
Oh, why did I do this?
According to your text, you were having
"the beef light of my loaf."
What? No, no, why did I use this algorithm?
We're only tracking people who used the stolen cards.
They might not be the same as the ones who stole them.
Here, switch seats with me.
Oh, wow.
Your butt's really warm.
My butt's normal. Your butt's the weird one.
Don't get mad. It's nice.
All right, so if we ignore all these fraudulent purchases and go back far enough...
Here.
Someone posted the stolen card numbers online from this IP address.
Not bad. You found the pattern.
All right. Let's aspirin up and roll out.
I'm glad you could be here for this.
Hello. Mike Halbrook!
NYPD! Open up!
Put your head through the door.
My head?
We got a runner!
Stop! NYPD. Hands in the air!
Oh, wow.
Ooh! Yeah. Good job.
Oh, I'm never drinking again.
Hey.
You know, I was going to take him out myself, but,
ladies first, so...
Relax, kid. Being too hungover to chase a perp,
that's a classic old school move.
You know, you are one of the last few good cops
fighting against the rising tide of hair bags.
Is what you're going to say in your article?
Ah, don't worry. You're going to come out looking real good.
Especially after our talk in the bar.
So many good quotes, especially about Holt.
Cops are usually afraid to go after their captains like that,
but you, sir, are old school.
You know it.
Oh, Pineapples.
What did you do?
Your witness, Counselor.
Detective Diaz.
It's always a pleasure to see you.
It's not good. The lawyer's that slime ball Grundhaven.
Rosa hates him.
She's just right. We coached her. She'll be okay.
Would you please state your name for the record?
To be perfectly candid,
my name is Detective Rosa Diaz.
Well, thank you for your candor regarding your own name.
Detective Diaz, would you please tell the court
exactly how you're involved in this case?
I caught Mr. Ladd physically beating his boss with a fax machine.
Most of his cheek was caved in.
His head was basically a blood fountain.
I'm sorry, is this amusing to you, Miss Diaz?
Are you all right, Detective?
Oh, no.
Brogan just sent me the quotes he's going to run.
I slammed Holt like 50 times.
Listen.
"Holt would rather I wear a tie than solve a case."
"Holt cares more about catching clerical errors than catching bad guys."
"Holt is way too verticulis."
That's not even a word.
What were you thinking?
We were just hanging out, being old school.
He wasn't supposed to quote me. I was off the record the whole time.
Oh, no, wait.
I'm going on the record.
Jake Peralta can dance!
Whoo! Whoo!
Jimmy Brogan!
Look, you need to fix this, okay?
Those quotes cannot run.
It would be devastating for Holt.
And the department.
I'll fix it.
Brogan's a cool guy.
We're friends now. I'll just talk to him.
Awesome dude to awesome dude.
I should brush my teeth first, though, right?
Mmm-hmm! Yeah, it's terrible.
Great advice, dummies! I look like a psycho up there.
Yes. You have to pull it together.
That's not helping.
It's what Sarge says to me when I'm nervous.
Rosa, I think you're nervous.
Of course I'm nervous.
What did you think was the problem?
We just assumed you were a terrifying human being with a short fuse.
But if the problem is that you're nervous,
that's where Charles Boyle lives, baby. I can help.
You just need to go to your happy place.
What's that?
It sounds stupid.
Oh, everyone's happy place is different.
For me, I just imagine I'm slurping up
the world's longest piece of linguini.
It just keeps going and going.
Every 20 feet of noodle, there's a sauce change.
I'm in my happy place right now.
Mmm. Pesto!
Mmm. Carbonara!
Great. Now I'm starving.
Hey, hey. Jimmy Brogan.
Thanks for meeting me.
Welcome to the schvitz, kid!
The most comfortable place on Earth.
It's like crawling back into your mother.
Is that something people want to do?
What'd you want to talk to me about?
Ah, so, I read those quotes you sent me.
And you...
Wrote them so good!
The thing is...
I know I hid it incredibly well, but I was pretty drunk when I said that stuff.
So, any chance you wouldn't print it?
Wait. You said you were going on the record.
I was clearly not in control.
Maybe you should learn to handle your brown.
Ew!
Look, you know that I think you're like the number one hero of the 20th century.
But I kind of feel like you're being unfair here.
Feel like?
Listen to her. Suzanne Somers over here. Talk like a man.
All right. I will talk like a man. You got me drunk and took advantage of me.
Oh, come on. God.
Look, I'm asking you nicely.
Please don't print the quotes.
And I'm telling you nicely, I'm printing them.
No, you're not.
What are you going to do about it?
Hey, how'd it go with Brogan?
Perfect.
Except I punched him in the face and made it a billion times worse.
What?
Yeah.
So, Detective Diaz. You saw my client struggling with his boss.
But you don't know who initiated the fight.
To be perfectly candid, I was pretty sure it was the defendant.
Well, to be perfectly candid,
"pretty sure" is not definitive.
I think I know what happened.
Well, to be perfectly candid,
no one cares what you think.
Do you actually know anything or are you just guessing?
Your client instigated the fight.
I am certain.
And I'm happy to tell you why.
Yes. She went to her happy place.
I know that, Boyle.
You punched Jimmy Brogan?
What were you thinking?
I was thinking that I needed to protect this precinct
from things that I said about this precinct
to a reporter, while drunk and insisting he record me! I shouldn't have done it.
Unbelievable.
Every time I think you might make a decent detective
you go and pull something like this.
I thought I could handle my brown.
I know, I'm sorry. That's gross.
Go home.
You've got the rest of the day to put your head on straight.
Got Halbrook to cop to every charge.
Nice work, Santiago.
Thank you, sir.
Peralta figured out the pattern, though, so he should get credit for the collar.
Have you seen him? I sent him home.
He assaulted Jimmy Brogan.
Yeah, but that caveman kind of had it coming, don't you think?
Oh.
He didn't tell you. Tell me what?
Never mind.
If Jake didn't tell you, he must've had a reason. It's not my place.
I'm disappointed in you, Santiago.
I thought you and I were close.
I know you're manipulating me.
But I love it, and I will tell you anything.
So Jake went to the schvitz to talk to Brogan...
What are you going to do about it?
There's nothing I can do.
Except to ask you nicely, as a fan of you, your work, and the guys you wrote about,
please don't print the quotes.
Sheesh. I didn't realize you were going to get your panties all in a pretzel.
That's actually not technically possible, I'm not wearing underwear.
It is swampy in here! And my butt's like the Everglades.
Look, I know you're trying to be legit in a hair bag world
so I will not print your quotes.
Oh. Thank you. Thank you. That means the world to me.
And for the record,
I know that Holt is a stickler, but he's actually a really good cop.
Don't worry about it. We're friends.
You don't have to stick up for that homo.
I really wish you hadn't just said that.
What, homo?
Thank you, Santiago. That'll be all.
There she is.
Diaz, you did it.
They found him guilty on all charges.
Huh. Boyle's advice worked.
So, where's your happy place?
I'm in a cabin,
in the middle of nowhere.
Inside it's just me and that stupid, slimy defense attorney.
And I'm beating the hell out of him.
I break a dining room table over his head.
Then I rip off his arm
and shove it where the sun don't shine.
Then I reach down his throat and shake his hand.
Yeah. Okay.
I'm going to go ahead and schedule you for a psych eval.
I owe you one, Boyle. Thank you dinner. Tomorrow night.
Gribaldi's. It's all-you-can-eat linguini.
Yes!
Oh, my boyfriend's coming, too.
Your what friend now?
All right, let's hear it.
Oh! It's even worse than I imagined.
"The new face of the NYPD
"is perfectly embodied by Brooklyn's own Jake Peralta."
That's not so bad.
"Who cowers behind his desk all day, like the true hair bag that he is."
There it is.
"The old guard would've eaten a guy like Peralta for breakfast
"and unloaded him by lunch."
Well, that's very colorful.
And hurtful.
You can ignore that garbage, Santiago.
Jimmy Brogan wouldn't know a legit cop
if he punched him in the face.
Well. Guess I'm done with this.
Not good enough.
Three, two, one.
Welcome to the party, pal.
God, I love that movie.
It's Die Hard.