Greetings. Alllllllllllllllll.

How's this for an opening joke.
You know what the toughest part about being a gay, black police officer is.

You've been needling poor Peralta so much, you've practically made him a new suit.

My dog, Cheddar, fathered these small dogs.

I… Have no thoughts.

That isn't ours.

I wouldn't know. It came with the house.

Santiago, are you hiding in my bathroom, with a dog you're deathly allergic to.

No; I said "millimeters".

Is that a bunch of gummi bears wrapped in a Fruit Roll-Up?

Truly.

The statistics. The number-crunching. It was breathtaking.

Dear God. We're doomed. Boyle looks like a lesbian.

They will make out over a candy bar, then engage in gay panic-themed, heteronormative overcompensatory activities.

You heard incorrectly. However, your choice of word is almost as funny. Carry on.

MY WIFE. WAS MURDERED BY A MAN IN A YELLOW SWEATER.

I know how to spell fêted. I didn't have to Google it.

Oh, no. Oh, goodness. I shouldn't have said that. I feel I may have made things worse.

Perhaps I should stop talking to your wife.

Oh. I have caused a problem. I think… I am… Getting a text message. Bloop. There it is.