[Holt enters the Nine Nine to start work. His wrist is in a splint]
Whoa. What's with the cast?
I sprained my wrist.
[obsequiously] Oh no, what happened?
Don't worry about it, I'm fine.
Yeah, Jeez Amy. Back off. Leave the guy alone [he cranes his neck to check Holt is out of earshot] All right, huddle up, everybody. Bring it in, bring it in. [They all assemble] So he wouldn't say what happened, which can only mean one thing.
He's in a fight club?
No, he did it doing something he's embarrassed by. Like smiling. Only question is... how do you hurt your arm smiling?
Could be a sports injury. I sprained my wrist in college, playing field hockey.
[incredulous] Men's field hockey?
Yeah. It's much more violent than the women's game. We're not allowed to wear anything that protects our breasts.
[exiting his office] Attention, everyone! I can hear you speculating about the nature and origin of my injury from my office. I tripped over an uneven sidewalk. I did not think it was relevant to your jobs, the jobs you should all be doing right now. Get to work. [When everyone has gone back to their desks, he sidles up to Peralta and talks in hushed voice] Do you wanna know how I actually hurt my wrist?
Yes.
I was hula hooping. Kevin and I attend a class for fitness, and for fun.
[in surprise and amazement] Oh my God.
I've mastered all the moves. [holds up his phone to show Peralta a picture] The pizza toss, the tornado, the scorpion, the oopsie doodle.
[struggling to contain his glee] Why are you telling me this?
[slowly and deliberately] Because no-one... will ever believe you.
[He deletes the picture]
No, no! [Holt gives him a cruel smile and makes his way back to his office. Through his teeth] You sick son of a bitch.
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