"oh, this is amazing." "this is so amazing." "everything about this is amazing." "what are you talking about?" "a virus got on the server and sent all of us an email with everyone's search histories." "check this out." "sergeant jeffords searched the internet for "undiscovered muscle."" "i was working out and saw a muscle in my shoulder i'd never seen before." "i thought it might've been a scientific discovery." "listen to this." "scully searched for" ""how much fudge is in a calorie?"" "i never found the answer, but it was a good question." "boyle looked up, "how to make desk yogurt."" "yes, i did, and i am thrilled with the results." "although the jar is really hot." "that's gross." "and amy searched for" ""daniel craig hands" plus "close up."" "ugh." "you should talk." "you searched for "cheapest date possible."" "and i wear that search like badge of honor." "so, ready for dinner?" "here we go." "[grunts] would you like something sweet?" "or maybe savory?" "apple pie-- and i'm stuck." "i'm stuck!" "[upbeat music]" "♪" "peralta." "hey, sal." "to what do i owe the honor?" "oh, my god." "yeah, we'll be right there." "boyle... (jake) no!" "i can't believe sal's is gone." "this place is an institution." "it's the best pizza in the neighborhood." "well, eighth-best." "but yeah, a tragedy." "i mean, any food-related crime is a tragedy." "[siren blares] oh, no." "heads up, fire marshal." "oh, boone." "what's that nimrod doing here?" "hey, peralta." "hey, boone." "what are you doing here, you nimrod?" "uh, there was a fire." "big question is, what are you doing here?" "what, did somebody call in a missing doughnut?" "uh, actually someone reported they couldn't find your head." "but we found it." "it was up your butt." "(jake) you're a fireman, you should know how to treat that burn." "joke's on you, 'cause this is a fire, which means it is fire department jurisdiction." "so why don't you back off and let new york's bravest handle it?" "you know they only call you that because" ""new york's best at spraying stuff with water"" "is too wordy." "ha, well, it's too bad we all can't be as awesome as new york's finest, which by the way, sounds like my mom describing her dishware, which--and she's dead, so let's tread lightly on the response." "that's not fair." "yeah." "well, look, we heard this might be arson, so we wanted to check it out." "no, i'm not letting you onto my crime scene." "okay?" "all right, fine." "you know what?" "you're not invited to our next murder." "good solve on the herman avenue burglaries." "finish up the paperwork as soon as possible." "your wish is my command." "no, that was actually a command." "so my command is your command." "well, then i guess you still have all three of your wishes." "you're not a genie." "i know that." "okay." "we're leaving." "what was the name of the clerk we questioned about the second burglary?" "where do farts go?" "i was reading scully's searches." "hey, why'd you do a search for "magic-themed singles night"?" "my last four dates were really boring, so i thought i'd mix things up." "oh, wow." "[laughs] [poof] ta-da!" "oh, no." "what about you?" "why were you looking for real estate in ropesburg, new jersey?" "ropesburg p.d. offered me a job as their new police captain." "i turned it down." "oh!" "you...captain." "[chuckles] oh...that's super... super cool." "if we're gonna figure out what happened at sal's, we've gotta get past those firemen." "we need access." "how 'bout this?" "we light a bunch of fires throughout brooklyn, and when the firemen go to "fight the fires,"" "we walk right into sal's, the crime scene's ours." "why do we want to start a turf war with the fire department?" "i feel very uncomfortable saying this to you, but it doesn't seem like it's worth it-- unless you think it is." "i do." "like i said, sal's is an institution, and it's the best pizza in the neighborhood." "i'm sorry, jake, sal's is only the eighth-best." "i put out a weekly brooklyn pizza-ranking email blast." "sal's has the fourth-best texture, ninth-best crust, twelfth-best cheese, and honestly, they're only seventh in mouth-feel." ""mouth-feel"?" "what is that?" "the inside of your cheeks are very sensitive." "it's like the inside of your thighs, except with a tongue." "ugh, god." "look, no, sal's has the secret sauce recipe that puts all the other pizza places to shame." "but more importantly, fire marshal boone is incapable of conducting a crime investigation." "all fire marshals are doofuses, but boone is king doofus of doofus island." "gasoline?" "i'm pretty sure that's water." "only one way to tell." "there were more ways to tell." "and he's their leader." "captain, here's the mope who hacked our computer system." "his mother turned him in." "his name is corey park." "my name is savant." "his web handle is "savant."" "his people name is corey park." "why'd you target us with your computer virus, corey?" "i don't know, i was bored, and it was easy to break into your weak-ass system." "it was like taking candy from a baby." "why are you giving candy to a baby in the first place?" "don't give candy to a baby!" "they can't brush their teeth!" "yes, sergeant, it is unwise to give babies candy." "if it's so easy for this gentlemen to break into our system, we may need to hire a new i.t. director." "why don't you and gina get together on that?" "i doubt i'll need gina's help." "i'm sure she's busy anyway." "use gina." "she's my assistant, and she has something to offer." "trust me." "man, don't be hacking into my stuff." "(charles) uh-oh, jake, firemen." "what are you two doing here?" "you're a detective, you detect it out." "good one, bro." "i know, bro." "yeah, bro." "wow, it's like watching meet the press." "boone reconsidered." "he wants you to take a look at the files." "well, that's unexpected, but... all right, fine, i'll-- [laughs] it's not a file, bro." "it's a doughnut, because you're cops." "you sure?" "[laughs] all right, i don't care if it's not our jurisdiction, we're solving this." "would you like me to, uh, file that for you, jake?" "just ask for the doughnut, scully?" "can i have the doughnut, please?" "yes." "thanks." "[sighs] it's good to see you, sal." "i'm so sorry about the fire." "i can't believe it's gone, jakey, all of it." "the pizza oven." "the first dollar bill i ever made." "[tearing up] the 7-up fridge." "hey, it's gonna be all right." "you'll rebuild." "the fire department's been asking a lot of questions." "oh, fire department questions." "let me guess." ""uh, what part of my face do i put food in?"" ""how do you count to one?"" ""what's air?" [laughs] they think i torched my own place." "you know i wouldn't do something like that, right?" "yeah, of course." "but can you think of anybody who might've done it?" "i could think of ten pizzerias that want me out of the game." "that jerk mario comes to mind." "we share a delivery radius." "(charles) mario is number ten overall in brooklyn, and rising fast." "he might've wanted to move up the ladder." "of one foodie weirdo's personal pizza email blast?" "yeah." "okay, we'll start with him, then we'll move on to the rest of your competition, see if anything suspicious turns up." "it'll be the perfect opportunity to update my rankings." "can we stop at home for a pizza bib?" "no, charles, we gotta go fast." "right, right, i'll just use my work bib." "no, no bib." "we're gonna solve this for you, sal." "sit tight." "the guy who did the safe in the second apartment, what was his name?" "cone." ""c" as in "captain." "o" as in "overlooked."" "what?" "nothing." "she said "c" as in "captain," "o" as in "over--"" "yeah, i know how to spell cone." "okay." "so, ropesburg p.d." "you know someone there?" "nope." "so you were looking for a new job?" "nope." "weird." "they just offered you captain without considering anyone else?" "like scully... because he's got so many years on the force." "hey, guys, i think i put my gun in one of these boxes, and i don't know which." "you have a problem with me that you want to talk about?" "me?" "no, i am just filing evidence, sir." "found my gun." "it was in my holster." "my holster's on my butt." "good solve, scully." "mario, this pie needs work." "good consistency on the crust, but the cheese-to-sauce ratio is a travesty." "[spits] do you have to spit?" "in a word, yes." "amateurs go tasting, they fill up, and they lose their palate by the third slice." "i take this very seriously." "so, mario... let me tell you what i think happened." "your credit card transactions are down by 1/3 in the last six months." "meanwhile, over at sal's, it was a bunch of smiling faces and happy stomachs." "one night, you snapped." "a little gasoline--fah!" "a little match." "and poof!" "no more sal's." "how right am i?" "the night of the fire, i was at my father's funeral." "oh..." "my condolences." "[spits] ugh." "(charles) gino... this pizza is much better than last time." "you've always ranked dead last in structural integrity and sauce." "but way more importantly, i did a little research, and it turns out you did six months in prison for a be." "i did." "the night of the fire, i was at the prison giving a motivational speech on how parolees can turn their lives around." "well, it's good to hear that the system works, and you are welcome." "have a good one." "this is a dead end." "we've gotta check out that crime scene." "can't." "firemen locked it down." "grab your spit bucket, boyle." "those hose monkeys can't stop us." "ah, you must be simon walker." "have a seat." "it says here you were an i.t. specialist with the board of ed for two years." "well, i know my way around a computer, that's for sure." "query: what's your favorite jay-z song?" "i'm sorry?" "favorite jay-z song?" "[chuckles] she's kidding." "hmm. no, i'm not." "what is it?" "i don't know." "i'm sorry about her." "okay." "what's your experience with cyber-security?" "uh, well, i added encryption software-- but seriously, what's your favorite jay-z song?" "i don't know!" "big pimpin'?" "it's big pimpin'!" "mm, wrong answer, friend." "and that's, um, how i got involved in, you know, systems analysis." "i'm sorry." "i'm really nervous." "there's no need to be nervous." "yeah, we're all just calm, cool, collected-- wahh!" "[screams] [laughs] oops." "was that a little sudden?" "what would you say is your biggest weakness as an employee?" "um... i'm sorry, what was the question again?" "he said, "what's your biggest weakness [muffled] as an employee?"" "that's just gross." "i'm sorry, i just have a skootch of gingivitis." "so i'm trying to treat that as best i can." "sorry." "you seem disgusted." "here's an itemized list of everything taken from the garden apartment." "tv, computer..." ""ster-b-eo"?" "uh-oh, spelling error." "that's not very captain-y." "oh, my god, enough." "i just think that you meant "stereo," not "ster-b-eo."" "did you mean "ster-b-eo," captain?" "that's it." "get in my car, now." "and if you say another word, i promise you, you will regret it." "aye aye, cap-- ow, okay." "fine, i regret it." "ah--i'll go. i'm going." "these firemen are not moving." "we gotta distract 'em." "tell 'em your little boy's cat got stuck up in a tree." "ooh, undercover work." "i love it." "i need more back story." "first off, can it be my daughter's cat?" "okay, but if you get made because of that, it's on you." "fine." "let's talk about the cat." "short-hair, long-hair?" "tabby?" "short-hair, calico." "the son is adopted." "your wife is in a coma." "oh, that's brutal." "i like it." "hey, guys?" "guys, i really need your help." "my little boy, brian, my angel, i bought him a short-haired calico after my wife fell into a coma-- motorcycle crash." "and now the cat's stuck in a tree." "(charles) he's a cute kid." "kinda looks like you." "handsome guy." "handsome little guy." "oh, hey." "just got locked out, so-- he doesn't care." "[grunts] brian was adopted, so he has abandonment issues." "just struck out at tee-ball last week." "everyone called him "crying' brian."" "(boone) hello, peralta." "aah!" "you looking for something?" "what is the deal with you and this second-rate pizza joint?" "this place is a brooklyn institution, and i'm here because you think sal did it and you're wrong!" "he did do it!" "sal was in financial trouble, he has no alibi, and in cases of arson, the owner always did it." "what's going on, sir?" "what's going on is that peralta has screwed with me for the last time, and now he's gonna pay." "oh, you know what, boone?" "any time you want to-- [grunts] well, that escalated fast." "[grunting]" "(charles) they're getting nervous, jake!" "they're getting nervous!" "[both grunting] get off him, boone!" "you big marshmallow!" "hey, break it up!" "now!" "hey, hey, hey!" "don't tell my guys what to do!" "don't tell me what to tell people what to do!" "well, make me not do it, tough guy." "uh-oh." "[all grunting] hey, break it up!" "i apologize, marshal boone, for detective peralta's actions, something i find myself doing quite frequently." "in my defense, i was the only one saying we should stop hitting." "stop hitting them!" "kicking them will hurt more!" "okay, i'm a reasonable man, so i'm just gonna say this." "fire peralta immediately." "he started a fight." "he overstepped his jurisdiction." "and he's obsessed with this pizza place." "what i'm obsessed with is how you're bungling this investigation." "they should write a song about it called welcome to the bungle." "seriously, why are you dragging sal's pizza through the mud?" "that place is special." "why's it special?" "because it's the best pizza in the neighborhood!" "well... according to charles's email blast, it's actually number eight." "captain reads my blast." "of course, it's the only one that measures mouth-feel." "what, are you kidding right now?" "this isn't about pizza." "what's it actually about?" "when i was a kid, i was shortstop on my little league team." "oh, my god." "it's the truth." "it's not a brag." "my dad was the coach, and after every game, he would take the team to sal's." "halfway through our last season, he left me and my mom, and the worst part about it was that i couldn't go with him to sal's anymore." "well, that's certainly not what i expected this to be about." "[crying] sorr--i'm sorry." "i'm sorry that happened to you." "i mean, what kind of dad just-- just leaves his son like that?" "look, you're-- you're a cop and-- and i'm a firefighter, but underneath all of it, we're just two boys whose dads abandoned them." "and you and i, we're gonna solve this thing, together." "okay?" "okay." "okay." "yeah." "but first, let's hug like men." "oh, boy." "this is happening." "[crying] captain, get in here." "there, there." "there, there." "there." "i'm coming in." "[groans] oh, boyle." "(amy) what's going on?" "did you drive me out here to kill me?" "i thought about it, but then i put that thought on hold." "i wanted to show you ropesburg." "this is ropesburg?" "you wanted this offer so badly, i thought i'd give you a chance at the job." "miss diaz!" "are you here to reconsider?" "we've bought the deputies bullets, like you suggested." "hi, sergeant." "no, i'm still not interested." "at all." "but this is detective santiago." "she's one of our top detectives, and she really wants the job." "i--[chuckles] yes." "can i ask what happened to the last captain?" "he quit to start a carpet cleaning business, because that was better than being captain here because this is the most boring place on earth." "[chuckles] she doesn't mean that." "it's okay." "it's true." "gotta be known for something." "[chuckles nervously] so of all the candidates that you interviewed today, who do you think i should hire?" "well, the interviews got a little off-track." "but i'd go with simon walker." "computer science degree, worked for the board of ed for ten years." "that guy?" "no way." "he yelled at me when i asked him the same question about jay-z three times in a row." "why does that matter?" "because whoever takes this i.t. job is gonna have to deal with hitchcock asking how to log in to his email every single day forever." "how do you think professor short fuse is gonna handle that?" "fine, what about this guy?" "mm, no." "he was scared of everything." "do you remember rosa's reaction last time the printer jammed?" "i'll pay for that." "fine, what was with the flossing?" "mm, a precinct is a pretty gross place, ter-bear." "there's blood, wounds, scully's feet." "you need a strong stomach, and that lady did not have one." "plus, we already have the perfect candidate already:" "savant." "that punk who hacked us?" "precisely." "captain, turn your greatest weakness into your greatest strength, like paris hilton re: her sex tape." "get to the point." "savant tore our walls down, but he can build them back up, taller and thicker than ever." "but how can we be sure he won't turn on us?" "his mom ratted him out, so i bet he'd love a steady paycheck to get out of that snitch's house." "[laughs] if i had a mic right now, i'd drop it." "there we have it." "and here's the file you wanted." "well, it's hard to believe i'm gonna say this, because i've spent most of my adult life hating you and everything you stand for, but... thanks." "i'm not gonna lie, my therapist is gonna be very proud of me." "that's weird." "any reason you can think of one of your guys would've forced this cabinet open while they were putting the fire out?" "no, no." "i can't." "looks like it was jimmied open with a crowbar." "oh, my god." "i know who did it." "come on, i'll explain it on the way down." "wait, wait, wait." "i can't believe i'm offering this to a cop, but... do you want to take the pole down?" "oh, my god, yes." "whee!" "let justice be served." "did you get it?" "uh-huh." "my turn?" "nope. no time." "we know you burned down sal's, gino." "you hated him because his pizza was better than yours." "that's not true." "gino's pizza's always been the tastiest." "wrong." "according to boyle's email blast, it was downright lousy before." "that's what made it so suspicious when he suddenly loved it." "[distorted] much better than last time." "[spits] the crust was charred, the cheese was stringy and flavorless, but the sauce." "oh, marone, the sauce." "continue." "and that was your mistake." "you didn't just burn sal's down, you also stole his secret sauce recipe." "here's a picture of the cabinet in which said recipe was held." "busted open with a crowbar." "look familiar?" "also, your so-called motivational speech down at the prison ended at 5:00 p.m., leaving you plenty of time to get back to sal's and burn it to the ground." "so i guess there's only one thing left to say." "(both) gino bianucci, you're under arrest-- [clears throat] excuse me. no." "do you mind?" "this is my collar..." "i think i can handle this." "if i'm not wrong." "yeah, but i actually did all the work." "see, i knew you would-- you know what?" "fine." "go ahead, i don't care." "gino bianucci, you're under arrest for arson. yes!" "said it first." "real mature." "very mature." "off we go." "so what'd you think of ropesburg?" "it's, uh...quaint." "it's whack, and you know it." "their number-one crime is tricycle theft." "there's a bakery attached to the precinct." "come on, santiago." "you never would've taken that job, so why'd you even care that they offered it to me?" "i can't help it." "i'm competitive." "i have seven brothers, and i was the only girl." "i always had to fight for a place at the table." "well, you're not the only girl at the table anymore." "we work in a police force full of dudes." "we gotta have each other's backs, okay?" "you saying you have my back?" "yeah, i got your back." "don't smile." "i'm still mad at you." "i thought we were having a moment." "moment's over." "shut up." "(hitchcock) hey, sarge." "he made my computer smarter." "all i have to do is put my thumb on that thing, and it opens up all my electric mails." "[laughs] you seem real smart, man." "oh, and look, and you play with toys." "savant, you're part of the nine-nine now." "we look after each other." "hey, ball, if savant was to do anything to harm this precinct, would i destroy him?" "answer uncertain." "try again." "peralta, fire marshal boone just called." "he told me you should check your drawer?" "oh, look at that." "i've been booned." "well, the joke's on him, because i was out of shaving cream." "i see we are once again at war with the fire department." "you are not to retaliate." "oh, i wouldn't dream of it, sir." "in fact, i'm gonna send over a little peace offering:" "some of sal's famous sauce." "now, boyle!" "[alarm blares] fire!" "fire!" "fire!" "pleasure working with you, boone." "run, charles!" "[alarm blares] [laughter] come on--whoa!" "get that guy!" "fremulon." "not a doctor. shh."