Don't Make Sgt. Terry Wait For A Meal

At the risk of overselling it: Brooklyn Nine-Nine's Thanksgiving episode is practically perfect. It's not because an episode revolving around what is generally a family holiday gave us a chance to see how close our Mark Blankenship was in his casting suggestions for the cast's relatives, which is smart: we're still getting to know the characters in the show's opening credits, and throwing out a whole bunch of ancillary people, all at once, to play off them would be overwhelming. (That said: we do see an extremely brief flashback to Diaz's last Thanksgiving, and her sister bears more than a passing resemblance to Mark's idea of her personality, because Mark is very smart.) Instead, the holiday gives us a framework for seeing the characters relate to each other outside the precinct, and by "relate to each other," I mean "needle each other relentlessly because the close quarters of their shared workplace has taught everyone where everyone else's buttons are and what will push them."

This is, in fact, how the episode starts, as Boyle tries his best not to facilitate the game of Boyle Bingo for which Peralta has distributed cards to the whole squad — but he physically can't limit himself to just two "gobble"s when clearly a third is required. Then, there's Santiago's nerdish over-preparing for the dinner she's throwing for all her co-workers, including following up on the invitation to which Holt still hasn't responded, but on which he does intend to offer constructive criticism on what Santiago claims is a turkey wearing not a top hat but a pilgrim hat.

At the dinner, everyone is pretty patient as they wait for Santiago to call them to dinner — perhaps because they're having too much fun mocking Santiago's old-ladyish apartment (SPOON COLLECTION, Y'ALL), or maybe because they have a premonition that the food will be terrible, which it is. But since Terry had to miss whatever percentage of his daily 10,000 calories was represented by the lunch that got spoiled in the precinct fridge, he is in his seat at the table before Holt even gets there, pressing to get things underway. "Excuse me, can we please eat?" he asks, as politely as possible. "My body is starting to digest itself!"

And then reason leaves Terry, and instinct takes over.

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