Wanting people to listen, you can't just tap them on the shoulder anymore. You have to hit them with a sledgehammer, and then you'll notice you've got their strict attention.
You're no messiah. You're a movie of the week. You're a fucking t-shirt, at best.
Ernest Hemingway once wrote, "The world is a fine place and worth fighting for." I agree with the second part.
What’s in the box? What’s in the fucking box?
Detective. Detective. DETECTIVE! You're looking for me.
I gots to know.
I know what you're thinking. "Did he fire six shots or only five?" Well to tell you the truth in all this excitement I kinda lost track myself. But being this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world and would blow your head clean off, you've gotta ask yourself one question: "Do I feel lucky?" Well, do ya, punk?
This guy's methodical, exacting, and worst of all, patient.
- I don't want any more trouble like you had last year in the Fillmore district. You understand? That's my policy.
- Yeah, well, when an adult male is chasing a female with intent to commit rape, I shoot the bastard - that's my policy.
- Intent? How'd you establish that?
- When a naked man is chasing a woman through a dark alley with a butcher knife and a hard on, I figure he isn't out collecting for the Red Cross.
- I think he's got a point.