Patrick Kenzie:
Cheese, if you ever disrespect her again like that, I'm gonna pull your fuckin' card, okay? So you're saying you didn't do it, fine. We'll take your money, and we'll be on our way. When it turns out you're lying, I'm gonna spend every nickel of that money to fuck you up. I'm gonna bribe cops to go after you, I'm gonna pay guys to go after your weak fuckin' crew, and I'm gonna tell all the guys I know that you're a C.I. and a rat, and I know a lot of people. And after that, you're gonna wish you listened to me, 'cause your shitty pool hall crime syndicate headquarters is gonna get raided, and your doped-up bitches are gonna get sent back to Laos, and this fuckin' retard right here is gonna be testifying against you for a reduced sentence, while you're gettin' cornholed in your cell by a gang of crackers. 'Cause from what I've heard, the guys that get sent up Concord for killing kids, life's a motherfucker.
Cheese:
[points gun at Kenzie] You come 'round here again, and I'm gonna get discourteous on your ass.
Pre-Crime Public Service Announcer:
Imagine, a world with out, murder. 6 years ago, the homicidal rates had reached epidemic proportions. It seemed that only a miracle could stop the blood shed, but instead of 1 miracle, we were given 3, the precognitives. Within 3 months of the precrime program, the homicidal rates in the District of Columbia had reduced 90 percent.
Lamar Burgess:
6 Years in the precrime prgram, and there hasn't been a single murder.
Pre-Crime Public Service Announcer:
Now, the system can work for you.
Attorney General Nash:
We want to make sure that this great system is what will keep us safe will also keep us free.
Pre-Crime Public Service Announcer:
On April 24, vote yes on the national Precrime initiative.
Martin Q. Blank:
Don't you think that maybe you're just upset because I told you what I do for a living, and you got upset and *you're* letting it interfere with *our* dynamic?
Dr. Oatman:
Whoa. Martin. You didn't tell me what you did for a living...
Martin Q. Blank:
Yes, I did!
Dr. Oatman:
You didn't tell me what you did for a living for *four* sessions. *Then* you told me. And I said, "I don't want to work with you any more." And yet, you come back each week at the same time. That's a difficulty for me. On top of that, if you've committed a crime or you're thinking about committing a crime, I have to tell the authorities.
Martin Q. Blank:
I know the law, okay? But I don't want to be withholding; I'm very serious about this process. [pause]
Martin Q. Blank:
And I know where you live.
Dr. Oatman:
Oh, now see? That wasn't a nice thing to say; that wasn't designed to make me feel good. That's a... kind of a... not too subtle intimidation, and I, uh, get filled with anxiety when you talk about something like that.
Martin Q. Blank:
Come on, come on. I was just kidding, all right? The thought never crossed my mind.
Dr. Oatman:
You did think of it, Martin! You thought it, and then you said it. And now, I'm left with the aftermath of that, thinking I gotta be creative in a really interesting way or Martin's gonna blow my brains out! You're holding me hostage. That's not right.
Morgan:
What are we gonna do?
Kemper:
I don't know... uh... we gotta call the cops, I guess.
Morgan:
Um, yeah, on a list of bad ideas, that one goes, way up there. Oh, police officers, please, as you inspect a crime scene, which is now our van, please, ignore the colorful pinata, filled with marijuana, in case you happen to come across it, because it played no part, you know, whatsoever in the demise of this unfortunate, young, woman.
Boxer Santaros:
My character, he realizes that the apocalyptic crime rate is because of global deceleration. The rotation of the Earth is slowing down at a rate of point zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero six miles per hour each day, disrupting the chemical equilibrium in the human brain, causing very irrational criminal behavior.
Roland Taverner:
How does he stop the global deceleration?
Boxer Santaros:
Oh, he can't stop it. There is no stopping wat can't be stopped. Only God can stop it.
Krysta Now:
But The New York Times said: "God is dead."
Boxer Santaros:
So in the end, I die in a very tragic downtown shootout while whispering my theory to Dr. Muriel Fox, the oceanography disaster specialist.
Krysta Now:
Astrophysicist!
Boxer Santaros:
The oceanography disaster specialist... sweetheart. My character - his name is Jericho Kane.
Mindy:
Look, kay? He assaulted the customer, grabbed the cash and ran out.
Officer Slater:
So, how how, how...
Officer Michaels:
Say when, height wise...
Officer Slater:
I'm gonna start up here.
Officer Michaels:
I'm gonna start from the buttom...
Mindy:
Whatever 5'10 is, he was 5'10.
Officer Slater:
E-ethnicly, I mean, did, what, uhhm. I mean, wa-was he, like u-us or...
Mindy:
A woman? A female, is that what you're asking?
Officer Slater:
No, I would say...
Officer Michaels:
Was he...
Officer Slater:
Was he African?
Mindy:
Was he African? No, he was American. And he was like you. He looked just like you.
Officer Michaels:
He was Jewish! An odd crime for a Jew to commit. Ok, so we have an African Jew wearing a hoodie...
Mindy:
No. You don't. No, that's not what I said. Is that what you heard me say? I said he looked like you. Do you look like an African Jew?
Officer Michaels:
No, I look like a cop.
Mindy:
He was caucasian.
Officer Michaels:
Caucasian...
Officer Slater:
Oh...
Mindy:
Kinda looked like Eminem.
Officer Michaels:
Ah, an M&M...
Officer Slater:
M&M, so he was like circular...
Mindy:
Marshall Mathers. Eminem, the rapper, Eminem.
Officer Michaels:
He looked like this? I'm a amateur.
Officer Slater:
'Cause that kinda looks like an M&M.
Officer Michaels:
Longer face? Bigger nose? Would you say his mouth was wider? Open? A gap?
