#mylights

Gagging.

Schmidt likes to refer to EDM as M because it’s the only music. I beg to differ. Cows mooing is the only moosic.

Among Winston’s audio recorded for his EDM song: Nick shaving without shaving cream, Schmidt repeatedly saying Haberman, Furguson very loudly going to town on Jess’ bunny slippers, and Nick eating a burrito. “That’s a felony, by the way.” Well done, Officer Bishop. Furguson, you nasty.

I’d like to reiterate that Winston recorded his cat going to town on slippers. 

He didn’t try to stop it.

He recorded it.

He put this recording on the track.

Oh, Winston.

“We got a song to write,” Winston tells Schmidt, “that’s gonna give you the best damn aural you have ever had.” “Check yourself.” He meant A-U-R-A-L, Cece.

“Just go talk to Reagan.” “I can’t just run into the bathroom shouting ‘you have a secret apartment’, Jess. She’ll bolt to her secret apartment.” His idea of talking to Reagan: running to the bathroom and shouting.

Nick Miller, king of comebacks. “You said that a full two seconds after the door shut.”

“Pick yourself up. Figuratively,” Cece says, inheriting her best friend’s pedantic grammar skills. “And literally, ‘cause we still haven’t fumigated for weevils.”

“Let the weevils take me away.” What a nice mental image.

“It’s not his birthday.” “Then why are we doing this?”