All For You [New Girl]

6. Colin

Schmidt arose from another one of his power naps around six p.m. and was making a big, obnoxious show about how much energy he had by running around the loft in track shorts and a skin-tight tank top.

"Schmidt, can you calm down?" Winston asked. He was trying to watch TV.

"I'm not calm, Winston, I'm energized. My neurons are firing faster and more accurately than yours. Parkour!" Schmidt leaped over the couch, narrowly avoiding kicking Winston in the jaw.

"That's it," Winston said and stood up, "You wanna do this? Cause we can do this."

"I can't hear you. My brain is operating too efficiently to understand English."

"That doesn't make any sense," Jess interjected from the kitchen. Wisely, she had given Schmidt a wide berth.

"So you wanna do this?" Winston said. It was still unclear what exactly "this" was. Schmidt ran up the wall in an arc.

"Parkour!"

"Let's go." Winston picked up the closest available object, an umbrella, and wielded it toward his rival. Schmidt chose a weapon too: his own shirt. He whipped it off in one clean motion and helicoptered it above his head like the world's least effective nunchucks. Ready to strike, he lifted one leg into a crane stance. That was when the door opened.

"Welcome to our home," Jess called brightly from the kitchen table.

The male guest seemed both amused and surprised at the scene before him, but Claire just rolled her eyes.

"Hey, guys. Hey Jess."

"More strays," Schmidt told Winston, dropping his lifted leg and arm.

"Be nice," Claire instructed. Then she yelled down the hall for the missing 4D resident.

"Nick!"

"What?" came the reply. Claire groaned. She turned back to the living room.

"This is Colin. Colin, this is Schmidt, Winston, and Jess. Schmidt, Colin would really like to know the science behind power naps."

"I would?" Colin whispered to her.

"Yes. Discuss." She walked off to get Nick.

He was sitting on the floor in front of his bed. The bag was still there. More tape had started to peel and it was leaning now.

"I'm getting Remy."

"No, don't talk to him. I've got it under control." He pointed to the middle of his bedspread. There was a metal salad bowl.

"Nick, that thing looks like it's going to hatch an alien. You can't fix it with a bowl."

"Don't get Remy."

"You can't sleep on the couch forever."

"I'll sleep under it."

"You'll drown."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take." He was joking, but she was getting exasperated.

"Why won't you just let me get the landlord?"

"Because!"

"Because what?"

"Because I don't need other people to fix stuff for me." He stood up. Her face softened for just a moment and then returned to an irritated stare.

"We'll just leave for an hour. He'll be done when we get back. You won't even have to say hi."

"Leave him alone in the apartment? He's going to go through all my stuff."