Brooklyn Nine-Nine

.

I've just received the email about whether I've gotten

the job as commissioner.

Well, from the look on my face, I'm sure

you can guess what it says.

No. We have no idea at all.

Just tell us, you monster.

Really? No one noticed the slight

tension in my labial commissure?

My lips. I'm smiling. - Wait, you're smiling?

Wait, we're allowed to say "labia" again?

- Wait, you got it? - I got it.

Ohh!

- Labia. - Commissioner Raymond Holt.

- Labia. - You gotta stop right now,

Hitchcock. - We need to celebrate.

Ooh, we need music.

Ooh-ohh, ohh, I brought a "Jock Jams" CD for the wedding.

Oh, we didn't talk about that.

It was gonna be a surprise. Our first dance was gonna be

the "Tootsee Roll."

Oh, no, and we didn't get to do it.

I know. All right, nobody move.

I'm gonna go get the CD.

I want to thank you all.

What an incredible moment.

30 years of struggle and sacrifice.

But it was worth it, because I finally get to read

the ten words I've longed to hear:

"Raymond Holt, you are not the"... oops.

I misread the email.

Didn't see the "not."

So...

I will not be the new commissioner.

Jock jam.

Whoo.

Why is on one else dancing?

Did I miss something?

Feels like I missed something.

I'll just keep going until someone tells me to...

Stop, Jake. - All right.

So Captain Holt is taking another personal day.

In his absence, I will be running things around here.

That's not true. I'm in charge.

Mm, no, it's gonna be more of a Westeros free-for-all, okay?

Who will bend a knee?

- I will. - Nobody's bending anything.

Let's get started.

Sarge, is Captain Holt all right?

He never miss work.

He said he was at a 49 and improving at 8.6% a day.

So I guess he'll be in soon.

Now, we have two...

Guess who just got paid, y'all.

That's right. We got stacks on stacks on stacks.

Whoa. Where's all that cash from?

Well, my brilliant wife found a crazy loophole

called "wedding insurance."

It's very common.

It's like renter's insurance.

Oh, my God. Do we have that too?

- Yes. - You are a wizard.

The point is, we are getting refunded in full,

so we are going on a super-deluxe, five-star

mega-baller honeymoon.

So you're not just going to the Berkshires anymore?

Screw that crap hole.

It's a dump, and anyone who goes there is garbage.

I was gonna take Sharon there for a romantic weekend.

Oh, well, congratulations, ya poor.

I am so sorry. Money really changes you.

The resort is called Posadita Bonita.

And it's in Mexico.

Great food, great beaches, and when I say.

"Ay caramba" there, I'll fit right in.

I don't think so.

Isn't that the place that Gina is always talking about,

because she gets referral rewards points?

Why, yes, it is.

Don't forget to use code GINA30 at checkout.

It's super intimate and super fancy.

And when we're there, there's only one rule.

Both: A.B.C.

Always be coconuting.

At all times, we will either be drinking from, eating,

or wearing a coconut.

Oh, this place is amazing.

I've never had sex outside the United States.

What are you thinking about?

Weirdly, the same thing.

- Whoa. - Welcome to paradise.

Margarita? - Yes, I would love one.

But is there any way you could put it in a coconut?

It will be my pleasure, sir.

Oh, thank you.

I requested a ridiculous thing, and he's doing it.

Quick, think of more stupid stuff we can ask for.

Grapes. Sorry, I panicked.

And I couldn't think of anything.

No, no, no, grapes is perfect.

Excuse me, sir, is there any way

you could get my wife some grapes?

- Yes, sir, right away. - He's running.

He's running for the grapes.

Here are your drinks

and a lovers' toolbox from a Mr. Boyle.

Ah, thank you so much.

We will never open this.

Oh, my God, Jake, look.

Yes, the grapes.

Oh, and you brought cheese.

I don't even want cheese.

No, Jake, in the lounge.

Captain Holt?

Peralta?

Ay caramba.

Gina, what the hell?

New phone, who dis?

You can't do that in person.

It's Charles.

Boyle. Your coworker.

Oh, hey, Charles.

I just found out that your mom left my dad.

They're getting divorced.

Eh, they had a good run.

Fun fact: The average American marriage

lasts fewer than two days.

- That's not true. - It doesn't have to be.

It's commentary.

Well, you know who didn't think it was a good run?

My daddy, Lynn Boyle.

He's inconsolable.

Well, I'm sure he'll get over it.

No, Boyles don't "get over it."

It becomes part of us.

It lives within us. It eats us out.

We have to get them back together.

- Pass. - Well, I'm doing it with

or without your help. - Okay, without.

Okay, you called my bluff. It has to be with your help.

And I'm not taking no for an answer.

- No. - Okay, you did it again.

Why are you like this?

I don't know.

Hey, Sarge, I have a problem, and I would ask Holt,

but since he's not back... - You came to Top Dog Terry.

Smart move.

I've been solving problems all day long.

Okay, so you know that meth case I've been working on

for the last two months?

The Department of Sanitation police want to poach it

from me, because the drugs were found in a dumpster.

They're saying it's garbage-related.

This is an easy one.

Tell them to screw off.

See? Problem solved.

Yeah, well, I did that, and they threatened to make

a formal complaint to the mayor.

Then just let them have the case.

Problem solved.

Terry, I've been working on it for two months,

and those dummies are gonna blow it.

Right. Well, you could partner up with sanitation.

Problem solved? Woof-woof?

Nope. Headquarters won't allow it

due to budgetary reasons.

Okay, okay, okay, okay.

You know, Captain Holt was writing an instruction manual

for his replacement in case he was named commissioner.

Maybe he could tell you what to do.

That's not necessary.

Top Dog Terry can make a decision.

And what would that be?

Does Top Dog Terry want a moment to think about it?

Woof-woof.

Since the rejection, a great sadness has enveloped me.

I kept expecting this dark feeling to pass,

but it's only gotten worse.

Not getting the job you want stinks.

In first grade, I was passed over for line leader,

and I'm still pissed.

Kyle D.'s lines had curves and gaps and cutting galore.

It was a frickin' carnival.

Yeah. What's a line leader?

Well, it's not just that I didn't get the job.

It's that John Kelly did.

He's already released a memo detailing his

"vigilant policing" initiative.

It's essentially a return to stop and frisk.

Choosing him is a betrayal of everything I stand for.

I feel the same way about Kyle D.

I tried to suck it up and go back to work.

I put on my uniform and got in my car.

And next thing I knew, I was on a plane to Mexico.

I didn't even pack a bag.

I bought a bundle of novelty shirts at a nearby gift shop.

This one says, "What's up, beaches?"

Instead of "bitches" for humor reasons.

- But you hate humor. - Well, I'm a joke now,

so it suits me.