"When I saw your ad on Craigslist... I thought you were women."
"Schmidt wrote the ad."
(Jess and Nick, 1x01 "Pilot")
"I got a response to the ad!"
Nick looked up from his cereal bowl. Schmidt's wide grin turned to a look of disgust. "What are you eating?"
"Chef Boyardee," Nick replied, "Beefaroni."
Schmidt cautiously leaned closer to look at the contents of Nick's bowl. "There's no way an actual chef made that slop."
"How dare you! Chef Boyardee is the greatest chef who ever lived, Schmidt. And he should be treated with respect!" Nick declared, stuffing another spoonful into his mouth.
"It looks like one of your microwave burritos got tossed into a blender and then thrown up by a pig."
"And it tastes so good," Nick replied, smiling cheekily.
Schmidt retched as Nick took another bite. "What were you saying before?" Nick asked with his mouth full.
Schmidt was still watching the bowl in disgust. "Schmidt?" Nick asked.
"Oh, uh…" Schmidt said, not taking his eyes from Nick's food, "I was saying…"
Nick rolled his eyes. "The ad?"
"Oh yes, the ad!" Schmidt said, briefly taking his eyes off the bowl, "I got a response to the ad…" He sighed and put a hand to his head. "I'm sorry, I can't concentrate with that garbage waste just staring at me."
"Are you serious?" Nick asked.
"It's positively putrid!"
"It's food!"
"How could you put something like that in your mouth?"
"It's just pasta and beef, Schmidt!"
"That came out of a can." He leaned over the counter for emphasis. "A CAN, Nick! A CAN! No meat should come out of a can except for certain types of fish."
"This is basically a soup. Soup comes out of a can all the time!"
"Disgraceful," Schmidt said, barely hearing him.
Nick grabbed a nearby hand towel and put it over his bowl. "There!" he said with an exaggerated flare of the hand, "It's gone. Now can you finish what you were going to say?"
Schmidt took a moment to compose himself and Nick supposed he was trying to wipe away all memory of the Beefaroni underneath the towel. Finally, he bounced right back into his original mood.
"I got a response to the ad!" he declared.
"The ad you put on Craigslist?" Nick asked.
"Yep."
Nick was surprised at how quick that was. After Schmidt finally realized that Craigslist was a website and not a newspaper, he just barely posted it two days ago. Now there was already someone interested?
"Who is it? What did they say?" Nick wondered.
Schmidt immediately set down his briefcase and pulled out his laptop. He turned the screen around towards Nick. "See for yourself."
"Hi there, sista! My name is Jess. I really liked your ad. The apartment sounds super cool! I'd like to come check it out :))) Is there a good time I could stop by? Thanks! 3"
Nick stared at the screen. He didn't know where to begin. "Sista?" he said.
"That's just a term of endearment," Schmidt replied casually, "It's like "bro" or "dude" except more progressive."
"And "Jess"?" Nick asked, "This is a girl?"
"We don't know that for sure," Schmidt said, shaking his head, "Maybe they mis-typed "Jeff" or maybe his name is Jesstin or… Jessimiel."
"Jessimiel?"
"That's a name!"
But Nick could tell that Schmidt knew it was a girl. In fact, he wanted it to be a girl. "Schmidt, this is a bad idea," Nick said flatly.
"What do you mean?"
"We do not want a girl living here."
"Why not? We could use some feminine presence around here."
Nick resisted the urge to point out they already had a feminine presence with Schmidt around. "She's probably totally crazy," he insisted, "I mean, look at all those exclamation points and smiley faces."
"Oh please. What an old wives tale," Schmidt said with a scoff, "Think of all the perks. She probably has a lot of friends." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"She's probably not even hot," Nick said, shaking his head, "Hot girls don't go on Craigslist."
"Um, of course she is," Schmidt retorted, "She used a heart at the end of her message. Only hot girls do that."
"No, Schmidt! You are not inviting her over here," Nick insisted.
"Well, it's too late because she's coming over in an hour," Schmidt replied, taking his laptop back.
"Wait, what?" Nick cried.
"Yeah, that's what I was trying to tell you. I got a response to the ad and they're coming over to look at the apartment."
Nick covered his face. "Schmidt, no!"
"Oh yes," Schmidt said, with a sly smile, "So if I were you, I'd clean up a bit and get rid of that pig slop you call food before she arrives. Maybe think of some good questions to ask her. And don't worry, I'll take care of the apartment."