Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Hey, Charles, can we talk in the briefing room for a sec?

There's a question I gotta ask you.

Mm-hmm.

It's happening.

Jake is gonna pop the question.

- He's gonna ask me to be his BM. - No.

BM, best man, is a common abbreviation.

No one but you has ever used it.

I am so relieved.

I thought maybe he was gonna ask one of Amy's brothers

or, ugh, Sarge.

Hey, man, come on.

Charles!

Okay, so I know this is a lot to ask...

No, it's not. I want to do it.

You want to cover my shift this weekend

so I can go to the White Plains Mall

and Darryl Strawberry at the opening of a cellphone store?

Yes.

It's exactly what I was hoping you'd ask.

Great. Thanks. You sure it's okay?

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

I'm very happy about it. It'll be fun. It'll be fun.

Uh, look at my smile. Have to go now.

Surprise!

Oh, my God!

Jake! What do you say, bud?

Will you be my BM?

Yes! Yes, a million times, yes!

In your face, Terry!

What? I'm holding a sparkler for you.

I helped organize a lot of this.

Well, you can stick that sparkler up your butt.

I'm the best man!

Captain, allow me to introduce you

to major East Coast arms dealer

Dan "Daniel" Valdano.

That's right, his nickname is longer than his actual name.

Why's that, Terry? 'Cause he's a dick.

We got a warrant to bug him, but his house is a fortress

and he never goes anywhere in public.

Luckily, CI just gave us a break.

Valdano's gonna actually leave his house

to go to a high stakes poker game this Friday.

If we can get a seat at that table,

we can lose this watch to him.

And guess what. It's...

- Bugged! - - Yes, it's bugged.

Good guess, Captain.

The plan is, we go to the club tonight,

show off our poker skills, and get an invite

to the high stakes game.

All we need is $15,000 to get in the door.

That's a lot of money. How are your poker skills?

A'ight.

- Good. - A'ight.

- Hecka good. - A'ight.

- So good. - Perhaps I should see

for myself.

- Oh. Do you play? - I am...

A'ight. Damn, Cap.

Are you secretly cool? Well, poker is just math,

so I guess it depends on if you consider

the mathematician Carl Friedrich Gauss cool.

I do not.

All right, let's play some cards.

Sarge asked me to help you guys with some filing.

Holy crap, this is gonna take all day.

Yup, it's what we call an all-dayer.

How long did it take you two to come up with that?

That was a two-dayer.

Okay, well, hand me some files.

You're not gonna bother actually walking?

Why should we? We can work from down here.

I'm sitting down as long as I can.

I'm not getting out of the chair

till it's time to go home.

- Ugh. - Oh, typical standing elite.

You couldn't sit all day if you tried.

What? You don't think I could outlast you turds in a chair?

Honey, you don't have the ass for it.

Let's talk terms.

Both cheeks on the cushion at all times.

Obviously. Bathroom breaks?

Two and a half minutes every three hours.

But you gotta roll the chair fully into the stall.

- Obviously. - Okay.

Let's do this. Welcome to the Buttlympics.

I call to order the meeting of investors

in the forthcoming Charles Boyle owned-and-operated

food truck venture.

I know I'm the only investor,

but is it cook if I take minutes?

- Yes. - We got a truck.

What? Really? That's huge.

Take a look.

Is that the NYPD police auction site?

Yeah, that's how I found out about it.

And there's our baby. Isn't she a...

Murder truck?

That's the truck from the Tinga Time Taco murders!

Yes, two brothers were using a taco truck

to move heroin and then were killed by the cartel

that supplied them. Not just killed, Boyle.

Dismembered. Right in the truck.

Right in our truck. That's why it was such bargain.

Everyone else was like, "Ooh, there's a knee in the fryer.

I don't want to sell food out of this."

They found a knee in the fryer?

Exactly. You get it.

Well, now I get to go pick it up.

Oh, almost forgot my hazmat suit.

And... I win again.

Which is not surprising, given how you are both terrible.

You don't even know the terminology.

What are you talking about? "Hit me."

That is blackjack.

- Snake-eyes. - Craps.

- Go Fish. - And I believe that is

Go Fish. Fine.

Jake stinks, but I can play.

Yes, but you have a rather unfortunate tell:

your right breast.

Oh, no. My cards are terrible.

Sure they are.

Dammit, Eugene, you sold me out!

Captain, do I have a tell?

No, you don't understand the game well enough

to have a tell. Yeah, that makes sense.

What about you? What's your tell?

It is subtle. You will never discern it.

Oh, really? Well, challenge accepted.

Tell me a lie.

You're both great at poker

and I'm not gonna cancel the mission.

Nope, I couldn't see it. Wait, what?

You're cancelling the mission? You can't do that.

This is our only shot at catching Valdano.

It's a foolish plan. Neither of you have any chance

of making it to the VIP table.

But maybe you could. What if you played?

No, I don't gamble anymore.

A few years back I had a minor addiction,

specifically involving...

the ponies.

I'd like to bet $20,000 on...

Yabba Dabba Doo.

Sadly, Yabba Dabba Doo stumbled

and had to be put down in front all of us.

- Oh. That's fun. - Wait.

What if I never went inside the casino?

I could be outside in a surveillance van,

telling Peralta what to do.

Smart. That way you never technically gamble.

- Right. - I don't know.

Addiction is nothing to fool around with.

I had food issues. I ate a crate of hams once.

Yeah, and look at you now.

You're like a super-jacked He-man guy, right?

It's settled; we'll go with the captain's plan.

Here's your persona: you're Billy "Big Time" Jankowski.

You wear sunglasses, headphones,

and an unwashed hoodie.

You normally gamble online,

from your mother's basement, where you live.

Seems unnecessary.

The hoodie hides your sunglass-camera's electronics.

I more meant the living in my mom's basement virgin vibe.

You added the virgin, but I like it.

It's part of your backstory now.

- But... - You're a virgin.

That's an order.

But I don't want to be a virgin again.

Okay, I'm approaching the table.

Evening, gentlemen. Let's play some cards.

And now, Peralta, say the following...

I'm coming in under the gun,

and I've 15k behind.

Okay.

Action's on you.

Mmm, tasty. Raise it 500.

Raise it 5-hundo.

Made up my own. What?

I'm just talking to myself.

I'm used to playing online, so it's not weird.

Well, well, well.

You flopped the absolute nuts, Peralta.

Go all in.

Are you sure? On the first hand, Captain?

It's what the math dictates.

At this moment there are no two cards that can beat Peralta.

- I'm all in. - And now they all fold

like so much recently dried linen.

- I'll call. - What an idiot.

Two players.

- What? - Full house wins.

- Yes! - No, he won; not you.

You're out of chips.

Oh, well, that sucks.

Guess I'll just head back to my mom's basement.