*Don't see your favorite quote? Send me a message or start a thread and I'll fix that ASAP! :) -RyderBPD*

Adam=teal
Aiden=orange
Danny= red
Flack=blue
Hawkes=violet
Lindsay=indigo
Mac=dark red
Sid= green
Stella=olive green

Season 2

201, “Summer in the City”

[while processing scene where building climber’s brain fell out]
Stella [to Hawkes] I knew this would be a no-brainer for you.
Hawkes: She didn’t just say that.
Mac & Flack, in unison: She did.

Danny: Whatta way for a guy to go, hah? All dressed up in a fancy bra. What’s that called, Aiden, when a guy is, ah, more comfortable wearin’ women’s undergarments? It’s like a syndrome or somethin’.

Danny [after chasing a suspect down]: Do me a favor, shut up. I’m too tired to listen to you play stupid.

Danny: And they say models are all body and no brains. This is a perfect example of how wrong they are.

202, “Grand Murder at Central Station”

Flack: So whaddya think, we got some whackadoo throwin’ acid in people’s faces?
Mac: Not acid. Lye.
Flack: All right, I’ll start with the nuts in this city and work my way up.

Mac: You ready to search for the Holy Grail?
[Hawkes looks puzzled]
You gotta have some sort of container if you’re gonna throw lye in someone’s face.
Hawkes: You know, the Holy Grail is considered by some—
Mac: Yeah, yeah, I know. I read The Da Vinci Code too.

Flack [to victim's business partner]: Did he ever butcher a patient? You know, nip a little too much here, tuck a little too much there?

[Detective walks in, carrying victim’s pink purse]
Danny: Ooh, Detective Prada! That’s a nice purse you got there—matches your shoes.

Feinstein: Oh, and if you ever need a cuddle, you know where to find us!
Danny: I don’t cuddle.

Stella [to group of hockey players]: Gentlemen, Detective Bonasera, NYPD. I hate to break up the next miracle on ice, but we’re looking for Steve Sampras.
Steve: I’m Steve Sampras.
Stella: We need to talk.
Paul: We’ve got a scrimmage. How’re we supposed to play without our goalie?
Danny: What do I look like, Lord Stanley? You’ll work it out. [To Steve] Eruzione, let’s go.

Hawkes [to music video]: Bless you, J.Lo.

Stella: Hey Danny, c’mere.
Danny: Which one of those trees needs Viagra?

Hawkes: Did you know rumor has it that Jennifer Lopez’s ass is insured for one billion dollars?
Mac: Excuse me?
Hawkes: Five hundred million a cheek.

Episode Fun Facts:

-The scenes at Grand Central were originally going to be shot at the real train station in NYC, but a few weeks prior to filming the London subway bombings occurred, and the resulting tightened security made an on-location shoot impossible.

-The scene where Stella and Danny confront the group of hockey players was originally going to be shot at an ice rink. Instead, though, it ended up being filmed on the same set used often in the TV series "Seinfeld."

-All three actors used in the scenes where Flack is interrogating victims of botched plastic surgery contorted their faces to simulate operations gone wrong. No prosthetics were used.

-When Aiden is fired at the end of the episode, she was originally going to produce a letter of resignation and hand it to Mac.

203, “Zoo York”

[Flack walks into tiger pit and sneezes]
Mac: Hey, no sneezing on my crime scene.
Flack: Sorry, Mac—allergies. Cats. I hate ‘em.

Lindsay: You want me to start processing?
Mac: Nah, Danny’s got that covered.
Danny: That’d be me. Danny Messer. How you doin’?
Lindsay: Hi.
Mac: I need you to hold the tiger’s jaws so I can get a dental impression.
Danny: Just take a deep breath, don’t let him know you’re afraid—he can sense when you’re nervous.
Lindsay: Tiger’s tranquilized. I think I can handle it.
Danny: I’m talkin’ about Mac. And make sure you call him sir.

Lindsay: Tiger stripes are like fingerprints. No two tigers have the same pattern of stripes. Females range 8 to 9 feet long. Sorry, sir—I recite meaningless trivia when I’m nervous.
Mac: This is a male.
Lindsay: Right. Should’ve checked first, sir.
Mac: And don’t call me sir.

Mac: We need to have the crew save anything the tiger passes and get it down to us.
Lindsay: Passes?
Danny: Passes. Sure you’ve never seen anything like that up in Montana.
Lindsay: You ever seen what a full grown black bear can do to a man?

[Lindsay opens and closes a few cabinets]
Danny: Can I help?
Lindsay: No, thank you—you helped enough already this morning.
Danny: Oo-kay.

[Danny and Lindsay walk into meat locker]
Danny: That’s a lotta hamburger.
Lindsay: Back home, people keep this much meat in their basement.
Danny: We do what we can.

Mac [looking at handprint on block of meat]: Whatever was on this hand caused the meat to defrost. We’re gonna need a sample.
Lindsay [whipping out knife]: I’ll do it.
Danny [to Mac]: Country girl.

Mac: ‘Scuse me, you Ryan Knight?
Suspect: Nah, I—
[Suspect hits Mac with his bag and runs—Lindsay knocks him into a parked car where he’s cuffed]
Mac: What do they feed you up there in Montana?

Hawkes: Explain to me what a debutante ball is precisely.
Stella: It’s the presentation of a young woman into high society.
Hawkes: Looks more like high anxiety.
Stella: Nice.

204, “Corporate Warriors”

Mac: Don’t quote me on this, Lindsay, but sometimes—
[Mac liifts victim’s severed head off his neck]
--not everything’s connected.

Danny [regarding suspect who left footprints on the ceiling in the midst of a fight with pool cues]: So we’re looking for a combination of Spiderman and Minnesota Fats.

Danny: Wow. Our San Gennaro vic looks like he was on a Star Trek diet. Y’know the kind where people have evolved past the point of needing to eat real food?
Stella: I think the Italians got it right: Live to eat, not eat to live.
Danny: S’what I’m talkin’ about.
Stella: C’mon, where’s the love in all that stuff?

Lindsay [to suspect, as he's serving tea]: It’s an insult to point the spout at your guest.

205, “Dancing With the Fishes”

Stella: She also plays the lottery.
Flack: All it takes is a dollar and a dream.
[Stella gives Flack a look]
Flack: I’m a dreamer too.

Stella: Looks like she played [the lottery] every week.
Flack: I’m more of a ‘play when the pot’s huge’ kind of guy.

Hawkes: Death by swordfish. . .man I love being in the field.

Flack: Search of the bridge & overpass turned up squat.

Hawkes [looking at fish stalls]: Voids in the ice. . .murder weapon’s been sold.
Danny: We gotta find it before it becomes dinner.

Danny: Fan-tastic. Mystery sand. Mystery fiber. No suspects.

Danny [to headmistress after she’s walked away]: Yeah. Thanks for nothin’.

Suspect: Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t kill Kia. If anything, I’m the victim here.
Flack: Yeah yeah yeah, no, I know, I’ve heard your sob story. Now, I wanna hear what the knife in your locker has to say.
Suspect: I got rights, okay—you can’t go through my locker.
Flack: Not yet. But in 20 minutes, when the warrant gets here, your world opens up.

Officer: Hey Dorothy, we gonna process or what? Commuters are pilin’ up.
Lindsay: First of all, Officer Murphy, I’m from Montana, not Kansas. Second, this is my crime scene and I’m extremely thorough. Tram opens when I’m done.

Hawkes: You know, I’ve never been fishing. Never even thought of trying it. Seems kinda boring.
Danny: ‘Till you hook somethin’. I went fishin’ with my ol’ man once in Battery Park—I caught the sweetest striped bass. Musta weighed close to 30 pounds.
Hawkes: You eat it?
Danny: Threw it back! Would you eat anything that came outta the Hudson?
Hawkes: Good point.

Danny: Fred Baliss paid how much for his son to go to preschool?
Hawkes: 14 thou and change, which is why I’m guessing he owed close to the same amount.
Danny: Whadda they got at these schools? Yellow fingerpaint made with gold?
Hawkes: Just a waiting list a mile long full of the names of the city’s elite toddlers.
Danny: That seals it. I’m not havin’ kids. Much too expensive.

206, “Youngblood”

Flack: Tox results show high levels of performance-enhancing drugs in his system.
Mac: Steroids?
Flack: Viagra. Mr. Kinsey was bein’ all that he could be.

Lindsay: Do you want the elastic or the paper?
Danny: I should probably handle the paper ‘cause there might be somethin’ on it.

Lindsay [after finding plaque that caused vic’s head wound]: History never made much of an impression on me.
Danny: Well, lucky it made one on the victim.

[Flack unlocks suspect’s car and removes Club]
Mac [sniffing]: Gunpowder.
Flack [cuffing suspect]: You got no idea how it got like that, right?
Suspect: It’s a mystery to me, man.
Flack: Join the club.

207, “Manhattan Manhunt”

Danny [walking into lab]: Whaddya got, Montana?
Lindsay: Danny, stop calling me that, okay? It’s Lindsay. Lindsay Monroe.
Danny: All right, all right. I’m just jokin’.
Lindsay: Well, it’s not funny. Am I supposed to be the new girl and the butt of all your jokes?

Horatio Caine: That’s a stria match.
Stella: Yep, the bullets are lining up like the Rockettes at Christmas.

Horatio: You have an amazing memory.
Al: I work security, dawg—it’s my job to remember faces.
Stella: Well that’s great, ‘cause I need every detail.
Horatio: That’s right, dawg.

[Stella stops suspect trying to escape in car]
Stella: Midtown traffic’s killer.

Mac [to Stella]: GPS the phone number.
[Computer brings up Fifth Avenue]
Stella: Tiffany’s! Now you’re talkin’ my language.
Mac: You can tell from a map?
Stella: Are you kidding? I can tell from the moon. I love those little blue boxes.

Flack: Put your hands behind your back, please—you’re takin’ a ride.

Episode Fun Fact:

- CSI franchise creator Anthony Zuiker says that while filming this crossover episode, David Caruso told him he'd worked out a spin-off series involving Horatio Caine and Stella Bonasera as partners. :)

208, “Bad Beat”

Stella: Blinds are $500 and $250 and the hole cards have just been dealt.
Flack: You play poker?
Stella: Occasionally. Got a problem with that?
Flack: Yeah, you’re physically incapable of keeping a straight face.
Stella: Really.
Flack: Now Mac, there’s a guy with a poker face. Who knows what he’s thinkin’?
Mac: I’m thinking, where’d the gun come from?

[Mac walks into the garbage area]
Mac: Anything?
Lindsay [popping up in the dumpster]: This new girl stuff has gotta stop.
Mac: It’s better than going through tiger dung.
Lindsay: Funny.

Hawkes: Lividity on the face and neck puts time of death at least eight hours ago.
Danny: Actually, ten hours and thirteen minutes.
Hawkes: It’s impossible to be that exact on TOD.
Danny: Ya think so, Einstein?
Hawkes: Danny, I’m a certified pathologist—I know so.
Danny: Her coat is damp. I got caught in the rain last night—twenty minute torrential downpour at 8:45. All of the makeup on the right side of her face is streaked, which means she was lying here dead when the rain began.
Hawkes: Showoff.

Flack: I like Cubans [cigars], personally. You like Cubans, Mr. Dulcet?
Dulcet: They seem like decent people.
Flack: I’m gonna make this very simple for you. One phone call and ATF will be all over this place confiscating any Cuban cigars you might be selling.
Stella: You recognize him [suspect] now?

Stella: You know where he [suspect] likes to hang out?
Dulcet: What do I look like, his groupie?
[Flack breaks a cigar]
Dulcet: Augh! You know how much that cost?
Flack: Now? Nothin’!
[Flack breaks #2]
Dulcet: Ugh.
Flack: Hey Stell?
Stella: Yeah?
Flack: That smell Cuban to you?
Stella: Can’t tell. Better break another one.
Dulcet: All right, all right, all right—I hold a nightly poker game in the back. Big money game. Knowing Kelly, he’ll be here.
Stella: What time’s the game?
Dulcet: We start in a couple hours.
Flack: See, that wasn’t so hard.

[Adam fixes tangled video tape]
Danny: Adam, when you’re done with that I got a pair of slacks that need to be ironed.
Adam: I have no response to that. Okay, let’s see what Tara Stanfield didn’t want the world to see.
[Walrus mating documentary starts]
Hawkes: Walruses. Are you serious?
[Sex tape comes up]
Danny: Those aren’t walruses.
[All three tilt their heads to the left. Lindsay walks in]
Lindsay: Footage from your 30th birthday party, Messer?
Danny: Walrus documentary—actually.
Hawkes: It’s Tara Stanfield, our victim from the park.
Lindsay: Who’s the other walrus?
[Lindsay tips her head to the left with the boys]

Hawkes: Mr. Fallon. We’re gonna need a minute.
Fallon: This is a newsroom, Detective. You can’t be in here and I don’t have a minute.
Danny: [whistles, puts sex tape in] How ‘bout now, you got a minute?
Fallon: Uh, Teddy, handle this from the floor.
Danny: Watch this move—ho! Is Mrs. Fallon fond of that one?

Suspect: What’re you talking about? What shotgun?
Stella: The one you used to kill Joel Ivy.
Suspect: Joel’s dead?
[Stella shows him a photo of Joel’s face]
Suspect: This is Joel?
Flack: What, you don’t recognize him with half his face blown off?

Flack [to suspect]: This is your last chance to talk, pal. When I walk out that door I’m goin’ home, cook myself up a nice steak, and watch Letterman. You? You’ll go down to central booking and get a nice lean slice of bologna on stale white bread.

[Hawkes is waiting by the elevator, soaked]
Danny: Whoa, Rain Man! Y’know what, they’re makin’ great strides in weather gear these days, Doc—it’s called an umbrella.
Hawkes: Actually, the umbrella dates back to the Wei Dynasty—386 AD.

Perp: That doesn’t make me a killer!
Danny: Yes it does, and you can keep tellin’ yourself that, all right? Because I’m gonna take you to a place now where they have sex for no profit.

Episode Fun Facts:

-This is the first episode with Adam Ross and Sid Hammerback.
-In the scene where Hawkes is processing the site of the weathergirl's murder, James Brown's "Sex Machine" was playing on set during that day of filming.
-When Mac and Stella are trying to figure out which floor their perp lives on, the search jumps from the 12th to the 14th floor. This may be an homage to triskaidekaphobia, which is the fear of the number 13. Many buildings worldwide, especially in some Asian societies, have no 13th floor because it is believed to be unlucky.

209, “City of the Dolls”

Danny: I never knew a place like this [doll hospital] existed.
Detective Kaile Maka: You never broke an arm off your G.I. Joe?
Danny: Yeah, but I did it on purpose. It was a casualty of war.

Neighbor: Uh, so it’ll probably be a whole week or so before they can list the apartment on the market?
Flack: Yeah, we usually don’t let the realtors show a place until we get the stink of death out of the carpeting.
Neighbor: Just thought I’d ask. And the attitude’s unnecessary!

Hawkes: I’m suspicious about everything and sure of nothing.

Stella: . . .and the last four components make up meteorite dust.
Hawkes: Meteorite dust.
Stella: I don’t make this stuff up.

Lindsay: Maybe this wasn’t about the doll at all. Maybe he just used it to defend himself.
Danny [shaking his head] Grip was way too tight. You ever been to the scene of a shooting where the vic’s hand is actually frozen in place? You can actually take the gun, slide it right into the palm.
[Danny takes Lindsay’s hand]
Danny: Perfect fit. He was struggling with his attacker for the gun. Same thing happened here.
[Danny and Lindsay continue holding hands for a few seconds]
Danny: You hungry?
Lindsay: Nah, I gotta get back to the lab.
Danny: Yeah, yeah—me too.

[Danny inspects print with flashlight]
Stella: You’re gonna have to do more than just stare at it.
Danny: I’m waiting for it to talk to me.
Stella: Then you’re gonna have to buy it a drink first.

Lindsay: Guess you didn’t grow up with hardwood floors.
Danny: Nah, I didn’t actually—Bronx marble.
Lindsay: What’s that?
Danny: S’linoleum.

Danny: You’re makin’ me nervous, Mac—you got that look.
Mac: What look is that?
Danny: The one that says ‘we’re not quite finished, cancel your plans for the evening.

Danny: Looks like Ms. Drake’s been quite busy. More semen samples here than a fertility clinic.

Danny: I don’t know, Mac—no fire escape ladder, there’s not even a dumpster. How does he get from down here up there? I mean, if that readout’s correct, we’re looking for someone from the Knicks.

210,” Jamalot”

Lindsay: I think she [roller derby girl] liked you.
Mac: It’s the uniform.

Danny: Who called it in?
Hawkes: Those two over there.
Danny: That’s great. If the vic’s missin’ any blood we’ll know the Dracula twins did it.

Danny: All right, whaddya want, body or scene?
Hawkes: Scene! Careful when you wash him off. Trace has a tendency to—
Danny: Want me to stick around and give you pointers on how to process a crime scene?

Flack: Someone felt different.
Wife: Well, talk to the Brooklyn Clobbers.
Husband: Yeah, they’re all jealous of my girls—we’re better looking, we’re better skaters and to top it all off we’re from Manhattan.
Flack: You’re chalkin’ this up to an inter-borough rivalry?

Suspect: All I want out of roller derby is me time.
Lindsay: Well, I know a place you can go to get a lot of that. Let’s go.

Stella: It [DNP]’s a very dangerous weight loss drug. It’s illegal—because it has a nasty habit of cooking one’s internal organs.

Assistant: Here are the galleys for tomorrow—and you promised you’d read my manuscript.
Danny: I’m havin’ a conversation with your boss here.

Danny: Death is never a bad thing for business, right? Especially when you’re peddling a psychosexual thriller.

Suspect: First time as a murder suspect and I don’t even get the cop of my choice to bust my chops.
Flack: I’ll send Detective Taylor your regards.
Suspect: Send him a lot more than just my regards.
Flack: Why don’t you focus on what you’re doin’, and in the meantime fill me in on how you got the DNP in the muscle cream.
Suspect: I didn’t put anything in there.
Flack: Maybe it just came in the jar, like you didn’t realize you were getting the kind with bonus poisons in it when you were at the drugstore?

Mac: There’s something rotten in the kingdom of Jamalot.

Stella: Oh yeah, that makes a lot of sense. Stunningly beautiful woman on her way to becoming a New York City icon in an utterly unique sport would tie herself down to a faded minor league baseball player who got banned for life from the game for steroid use?
Suspect: I did not use steroids.
Stella: Oh, I’m so sorry, that’s right, I forgot—you also distributed them.

Danny: We found your brother in that fancy rug of yours.
Suspect: He probably stole it on the way out.
Danny: What’s he, a Big Lebowski fan? Just decided to take the rug for the heck of it?

Mac [looking at beauty product bottles]: You really need all these?
Lindsay: Oh, I thought you said you wanted me to collect everything.
Mac: No, I mean. . .women. Do you need all these products?
Lindsay: You’re asking me? I work in a lab.

Hawkes: Fibers pulled from the rug came back to a variety of sources: alpaca, cashmere, satin, angora.
Danny: All things associated with a woman.
Hawkes: Fibers you pulled from the body? From a loofah.
Danny: Also associated with a woman.
Hawkes: I know someone who might disagree with you.
Danny: You’re not gonna give me that politically correct, metrosexual argument, ‘why does it have to be a woman’?

[Danny’s phone rings]
Hawkes: Coldplay.
Danny: Yeah, it’s called “Talk.” Something my girlfriend’s really good at.

Suspect: I was the one who filed the missing persons report.
Danny: Because you couldn’t find the final chapter of his book. The one you knew you could sell. The irony—which is a literary term, by the way—is that it was written all over his dead body.

211, “Trapped”

[Mac and Lindsay are looking at pool filled with lubricant]
Mac: Might be something in there we can use to ID the customer our vic was wrestling.
Lindsay: Well, let me know if you find anything.
[Mac gives Lindsay a look]
Lindsay: I’ll get my boots.

Stella: That’s it? No butler?
Flack: No.
Stella: Too bad, I thought we could wrap this one up quick.
Flack: What?
Stella: Mansion like this, it’s always the butler. Didn’t you ever play Clue?
Flack: I was a Monopoly guy.

Mac: That was fast.
Lindsay: Funny how a little lube speeds up the processing.

Stella: Hypnotherapy.
Flack: When you’re rich, ya try things.

[Panic room door slams, trapping Danny inside]
Danny: Are you kidding me?

Danny: You’re tellin’ me that this spaceship doesn’t open up until tomorrow morning?

Danny: This is gettin’ better and better. And I’m not spendin’ a week in here with a crazy dead guy, so do me a favor—call a locksmith.

Stella: Ok, well, I’m gonna start processing out here. Danny, we got it under control—help is on the way.
Danny: I’ll be in here.

Flack: Cavalry’s here. This is Jerry Gordon. He built Mr. Hudson’s panic room.
Danny: Hallelujah!

Jerry: Might get a little toasty in there. I suggest you conserve your oxygen.
Danny: Fan-tastic.

Doctor Marty Pino: Lucky for you you’re not claustrophobic. Me, I do not like confined spaces.
Danny: Why’d you choose a career that puts you in windowless rooms with dead bodies then?
Marty: Ladies love the degree. They don’t ask specifics.
Danny: Six years of med school to become a player, hah?
Marty: Naw, I was already a player, Messer—I just needed the bank to pay for my Porsche.
Danny: You know what? I officially hate you right now, all right?

Marty: Let’s get a more precise TOD.
Danny: You’re not serious?
Marty: There’s gotta be a bathroom there. Be a good Boy Scout and find a thermometer.
Danny: It’s your lucky day, Doc.
Marty: Nice. Now plant it in the end zone and put some points on the board.

[Danny is printing knife used to kill victim with glue and coffee pot]
Danny: I think I seen this on an episode of the Flintstones.

Danny [To Stella]: Ms. MacGuyver? Grab your camera. I gotta foreign print.

Mac: But you did hit her.
Suspect: I was defending myself.
Mac: You were lube wrestling. I wouldn’t call that life threatening.

Stella: Well, we’re gonna have to test it. Look around. Improvise.
Danny: The word of the day. Improvise.

Jerry: Hello, can you see me?
Danny: Yeah, ya look beautiful. Now get me outta here!

Flack: Makin’ progress.
Danny: Yeah, Crime Stopper, run to Ray’s, grab me a slice—extra pepperoni, all right? Bring it back? Just fold it up, slide it right through, hah?
Flack: That’s no way to treat good pizza, Messer.

Flack: Whaddya got there?
Stella: Surfactant and hyperchloride.
Flack: And for those of us with just a high school diploma?
Stella: Uh, soap and bleach. Laundry detergent.

Flack: Smoke?
Linda: No thanks.
Flack: That’s right. You don’t smoke. S’a nasty habit. Stains your fingers, teeth, messes with your breath. You sure you don’t want a cigarette?
Linda: I told you.
Flack: Right. I know, right. But you told Dr. Penn you smoked.

Fun Episode Facts:

-John Dove, the actor who plays Detective Scagnetti in this and one other episode, is a real veteran of the NYPD.
-In order to help Carmine Giovinazzo pretend like he was really taking a victim's temperature rectally, the director had him stick the thermometer into a loaf of bread!

212, “Wasted”

Hawkes: Hey.
Danny: What up, Doc?

Mac: Trace of paint. Same color as Serena Portonova’s painted-on swimsuit.
Hawkes: Everyone’s wearing green this season.

Stella: Bullets are magnetized.
Sid: Exactly. You are as smart as you are beautiful.
Stella [smiling]: Don’t flirt with me, Hammerback.
Sid: Yes, Detective.
Stella: Stay focused.

[Mac is burning ecstasy in dish]
Hawkes: That’s not your lunch, is it?

Adam: Hmmm. . .aspergillis sedoweed.
Danny: I was just thinkin’ about that.

Mac [looking in drain]: You good with a wrench?
Danny [now taking apart pipe]: Am I good with a wrench.

Adam: Perfect timing, fellas. We are looking down from 22,300 miles in space.
Danny: We found our spores here on Earth, Adam.
Adam: I am a scientist without a badge, Danny—trust me.

213, “Risk”

Mac: 18 hour shift wasn’t enough? Now you’re catchin’ bodies on the way home?
Danny: Ah, it’s more like the bodies are catchin’ me. Look at you, you’re all gussied up.
Mac: Fundraiser for the mayor.

[Lindsay walks down train tunnel in dress and heels]
Danny: Well hello, Miss Monroe. Wow. You clean up nice. You go to the mayor’s party also?
Lindsay: I was at the opera.
Danny: I am hangin’ out with all the wrong people, you know that?

Mac [looking at scratches on vic’s back]: Looks like a special someone left her mark.

Flack: QT Jammer. The most notorious trader in Manhattan. This guy was a Rambo. Half a billion in assets, trades commodities for a livin’. You think bettin’ the NFL’s tough, try bettin’ on pork bellies. Coffee, or grain. How do you bet on grain?
Stella: Hey, what I don’t spend I put in the bank.

[Sid wheels in body with neck laceration]
Sid: Uh, sorry for the delay. QT and I were busy necking.
Stella: Come again?
Sid: Necking. Looking at his neck.
Stella: Oh.
Sid: You don’t think I’d kiss a corpse, do you?
Stella: No no no, of course not.
Sid: That’s disgusting.
Stella: I agree.
Sid: Well, as long as we got that straight.
Stella: So, Sid—cause of death?

Sid: There’s something green in his throat.
Stella: Do I really wanna look?
Sid: Evidence knows no bounds.

Conductor: Subway surfing was much more popular in the late 80’s, early 90’s—but we still get these doot-do-doots every once in a while.
Lindsay: Doot-da-whats?
Conductor: Doot-do-doots, ya know—idiot, moron, knucklehead. Where ya from, Jersey?

Lindsay: Mr. White, you’re the conductor. Did you notice anything unusual on that run?
Conductor: Honey, I see unusual on every run. It’s a subway. You want unusual, you’re gonna find it.
Lindsay: Do you remember anybody causing any trouble? Any doot-do-doots get your attention?
Conductor: That was very nice—used it in a sentence and everything.

[Lindsay stops a suspect from running away by yanking on his shirt]
Danny: Nice collar, Monroe.

Suspect: I was trashed. I only remember bits and pieces.
Danny: Start with the bits.
Suspect: We were at some club. . .on Broadway.
Danny: Broadway’s the longest street in the world, kiddo.

Danny [to suspect]: You like being punished, Perry? That’s what we do—except we don’t tie you to the bed and spank you with some pledge paddle. We throw you in jail.

Adam: Ironic.
Mac: No. Wild Wild Wet.
Adam: Whoa. That’s a very hip, very salacious Manhattan club that just popped into your head like that?
Mac: And your point?
Adam: I just—I didn’t think—you know—
Mac: The bar’s over on Broadway. Near Chelsea University. Fighting fish on every table. And a short train ride from where Randy Williams was found.
Adam: Wow, you’re the man—you can hang anywhere you want, huh?
Mac: I was at the scene of a crime, Adam. Bouncers went a little overboard and ended up killing some kid from Staten Island. Shrimp cocktail was fantastic. Get me something more on that tooth.
[Mac walks away]
Adam: I like shrimp.

Flack: Cecil Arthur?
Arthur: Yeah, this is how we feed the world.
Stella: Why don’t you stop feedin’ the world for a minute and talk to us?
Arthur: I’m giving back to the Earth that has given back to me!
Stella: NYPD. The pigeons can go hungry for a minute, okay?
Flack: Hey buddy, you got three seconds to stop doing that before I come in there and get ya.
Arthur [to pigeons]: Ah, for the love of Caesar, eat!
[Flack opens car door]
Flack: Outta the limo now, I says!

Flack [to suspect]: What’s that bulge in your pocket? And don’t get cute.

Flack: Seems the underbroker told a big fib.

Bobby: It’s a tragedy to all of us, Ms. Chandler, but the market goes on. By sunrise we’ll be open for business and I’d be honored to make you a killing.
Stella: And I’d be honored to bust you for a killing.

Danny [catching girl’s eye and looking away]: Get outta here.

214, “Stuck On You”

Business Owner: When’s the tape comin’ down?
Danny: It’s crime scene tape. When it’s no longer a crime scene, the tape goes away.

Danny: What the heck is this, glue? Somebody really wanted to stick it to Mr. Epp.

Danny: Looks like somebody just walked right over this guy. Stepped in the glue and left these footprints. Looks like he headed towards this club here.
[Danny walks off]
Lindsay: All right, well, bye! I’ll just meet you back at the lab…with the DOA.

Mac: Hey, you guys on the music promoter?
Danny: Like glue.
[Mac laughs and walks away]
Lindsay: He doesn’t think that’s funny. He’s humoring you.
Danny: You don’t know him like I do.

Flack: ‘I’ve slept with a lot of women—some wild, some crazy, some both.’
Stella: ‘Scuse me?
Flack: Carlo’s words. Not mine.
Stella: Ah.
Flack: Shoulda swung by the hospital to meet this guy. Calls himself the “New American Playboy.” Lives, drinks, and breathes women. Again, his words. So, that in mind, as far as jealous exes go—a lot of ‘em.
Stella: Looks like Carlo has emerged as our primary target.
Flack: Five minutes into the interview, I wanted to kill him.

Flack: Two foreign pubic hair samples—now that’s a party!

Suspect: That’s an important phone call.
Danny: You don’t answer my questions, you’ll be callin’ a lawyer.

[Mac fires bow at shooting range]
Lindsay: Another weapon you’re an expert with. I don’t know whether to be impressed or worried.

Danny: Do me a favor, don’t move, all right?
Gus: This is bordering on harassment.
Danny: Ya know what? Don’t tempt me.

Gus: If you’re gonna arrest me for killin’ this guy, then let’s get it done. Otherwise, I’m about to sign the deal of a lifetime. And I’d appreciate a little peace.
Danny: I bet you’d take a little piece of everybody you meet given the chance.

Danny [to Lindsay]: Wanna go see Rough Sects?

Danny [to Gus]: Let somebody else speak, please.

Danny [to Lindsay, about Mac’s playing bass]: Get outta here. Are you kiddin’ me?

215, “Fare Game”

Danny: ‘Looking forward to seeing you, Michele.’ Heh. Playa’s got no game.

Sid: I found trace amounts of a burned paper substance here in the wound. See?
Stella: When are these guys gonna learn? Ya never leave a paper trail.

Adam [to Mac]: William Tucker. The penal code is his personal to-do list. Name a section and he’s violated it.

Flack [to suspect]: You don’t call, you don’t write—I was startin’ to think you were seein’ other Detectives, William.

Sid: I also found trace on the back of the deceased’s head. . .mostly in her hair.
Danny: What is it?
Sid: Not my department. Good luck—let me know what you find out.
Hawkes: So what’s your official COD?
Sid: Asphyxiation. Something inside your vic’s mouth blocked her airway. I found this during my visual. . .even weirder were the dozen eggs I found inside her eardrum.
Hawkes: No.
Danny: Eggs? What species?
[Sid gives Danny a look]
Danny: Oh right, that’s not your department, Sid.

Danny: This room make you nervous, Mi-chele?
Michele: Yeah.
Danny: Concrete, bad lighting, cold steel table—ya gotta walk through all those uniformed officers to get in this room, it’s all there for a reason. Chinese call it feng shui, right? To me, it just helps me determine whether you’re full of crap.

[Danny eats bug]
Chef: Tastes just like chicken, right?
Danny: Not really.
Hawkes: I can’t believe you just ate that.
Danny: Like swallowing a worm in a bottle of tequila.

Suspect: You’re lookin’ at me for this. You’re serious.
Flack: For real, serious.

Flack [to suspect, after chasing her down and finding a water gun]: Are you kidding me?!

Danny: Ya know what that sounds like?
Hawkes: A recipe for murder.

Suspect: I’m done. I’m not sayin’ another word without a lawyer.
Flack: Fine. I don’t need a word. I need your DNA.

Danny: I got good news, Tony—you’re still gonna get to cook. I’m sure you can do creative things with the Spam! Except I’d keep the bugs off the plate—‘cause the cons, they don’t like it when you mess with their food.

Danny: All right, I got mealworm spaghetti, stinkbug pate, cricket croquettes, braised ant brochette, Thai dragonflies. . .who’s goin’ first?
Stella: You gotta be kidding me.
Flack: Pass.
Lindsay: It’s just protein.
[Lindsay takes bite of bug]
Mac: Told you she’d do it.
Danny [handing over $5]: All right, all right, all right, here ya go.
Mac: OK, pizza in my office.
[Everyone walks away, leaving Danny and Lindsay alone at the table]
Lindsay: You bet Mac I wouldn’t do it?
Danny: Yeah, what was I thinkin’, bettin’ against a country girl.

216, “Cool Hunter”

Lindsay: Did you know there have been six suspicious deaths in this building in the last ten years? People say it’s cursed.
[Mac and Flack give Lindsay a look]
I took the Graveline Tour. You visit places where unexplained deaths have occurred or famous people have died. This was stop number eight.
Mac: Now it’s death number seven.

Stella: Any witnesses?
Hawkes: No. They’re all suffering from the same thing—temporary blindness.

Stella: These photos were taken from our vic’s cameraphone. He was quite the photographer.
Danny: I like the subject matter. These girls are fine.

Danny: All right, boy meets girl, boy impresses girl with his pimped-out ride. . . .
Stella: Right. All right, we’ve talked to girl—where’s boy?
Danny: I may be able to find him. See the reflection in the window?
Stella: Can you clear it up, Danny?
Danny: Gimme a sec. Lemme enhance the resolution.
Stella: Look at you.
Danny: ABO-429—Boom.
Stella: Nice, Messer—let’s see where that car takes us.

Danny: Whaddya think, ah, next new fad—ligature marks instead of tattoos?

Sid: I collected trace from the implant post that remained in his mouth.
Hawkes: And?
Sid: And as soon as you analyze it, could lead you somewhere. Hey, I was elbow-deep in his stomach—and I walked it up here! Can’t do everything.
Hawkes: Thanks, Sid.

Danny [to Hawkes]: Shoulda seen me whippin’ these kids’ asses.

[Danny picks Lindsay up for bootprint simulation]
Danny: Look, you promised me drinks for this, but I think I’m gonna need some dinner too.
Lindsay: I’m not gonna give you anything if you don’t get goin’. Make tracks, cowboy.

Rico: I know you didn’t come all the way up here to discuss energy drinks. So what’s on your mind, Detectives?
Danny: Coupla things: the Yankees’ pitching rotation, you murdering Ben Hatfield in the playground.

217, “Necrophelia Americana”
Mac: No wallet, no ID.
Stella: No face.

Mac: Lindsay, put your affinity for bugs to work.
Lindsay: I don’t actually have an affinity for bugs.
Mac: The beetles were the first on the scene. We need to know what they know. And no eating.
[Hawkes laughs, Lindsay gives him a look]

[Danny walks up to crime scene solo]
Flack: Ho, they sent out the big guns!
Danny: Like that suit.
Flack: Thank you. If I had your shoes, I’d be set.

Danny: So what happened, Flack? Guy walks down to a place he’s never been and dies of no apparent cause?
Flack: At this point, yeah.

Danny: Why must people do that? They can’t resist messin’ up fresh concrete.
Flack: Could be worse. At least there’s no heart with two peoples’ names in it. Who are gonna wind up killing each other after they realize they’re married.
Danny: Yep, well, at least with those people we know what happened.

Danny [to Lindsay, near bug-infested body]: What, you run outta bug spray?

Lindsay: As soon as Hammerback’s finished with you, I get to take the beetles back to the lab with me.
Danny: Don’t eat ‘em.
Lindsay: You’re a little late on that one.
Danny: Doesn’t mean it’s not funny.

Sid: Would you like to take a guess as to the cause of death?
Danny: Perhaps he stopped breathing?

Suspect: ‘Cause it’s my job to use the stuff.
Flack: And it’s our job to make sure you’re not lying. Let’s go.

Lindsay: Look at this.
Hawkes: Either that’s a super-concentrated marinara. . .
Lindsay: . . .Or the victim has a vial of blood in her freezer.

Danny: I don’t think this has anything to do with the construction. Seems to be about golf.
Flack: You thinkin’ maybe we should get out for a round, talk the case out?

Flack: That’s graphite. From a golf club. Leather’s from a golf glove. Serline from a golf ball.
Danny: Give the man a prize.

Danny: What happened? I thought you tracked down the Five Borough Golfers.
Flack: Augusta National it ain’t.

218, “Live Or Let Die”

Suspect: You have very beautiful eyes, you know that?
Flack: Thank you. Now why don’t you tell me about the night you got collared.
Suspect: You got a girlfriend?
Flack: Who’d you give the gun to, Angie?
Suspect: I’ve been here before. Some cop or DA gets me to tell ‘em what they need to know—makes a lot of promises on how they’re gonna get me out. A week later, I’m still here in the same kinda trouble I was before I said anything.
Flack: We’ll work somethin’ out.
[Suspect looks at Flack skeptically]
Flack: Would these eyes lie?

Mac: You have the right to remain silent, Doctor. . .use it.

Lindsay [after hanging up with Adam]: Arrrrrrrrrrgh!
Danny: Very attractive.

Lindsay: Have you ever gotten an anonymous phone call from a woman?
Danny: Sure. It’s happened.
Lindsay: Does it turn you on?
Danny: Whoa! Slow down there, Montana. What’d you have in mind?

219, “Super Men”

[Stella walks up to DB in superhero suit]
Stella: It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s. . .
Flack: Matthew Palmer.

Danny: Terrell Mann. They call him Superman.
Lindsay: With good reason. 45 college career touchdowns, over 3,000 career rushing yards and he averaged 7.2 yards a carry.
Danny: Don’t tell me you know something about football, please.
Lindsay: Is that so hard to believe?
Danny: It’s just dangerous. I might ask you to marry me.

Lindsay: What could kill somebody this big and this strong that fast?
Danny: Let’s tackle that question.

Hawkes: Now it’s time for us to use our superpowers.

Stella: When you were a kid, you ever tie a towel around your neck and pretend to be a superhero? Little Mac Man, maybe?
Mac: Sorry—couldn’t get me out of fatigues when I was a kid.

Danny: Let’s see if we can snap these Legos together, hah?

Flack: Pull down your hood, take off your hat—I wanna see your pretty face.
[Flack shows suspect picture of victim]
Suspect: Yo, that nutjob had it comin’.
Flack: That nutjob stopped you from knifin’ a man for 300 bucks. In my book, killin’ for that’s like killin’ a cop.

Suspect: Went and got my ass a prescription for Oxy.
Flack: Got some hillbilly heroin, huh? Good to know some junkies never change.

Suspect: Aw, come on, Flack! I thought we was s’posed to be like brothers, man!
Flack: Yeah, well, sometimes brothers fight.

Danny: We’re starin’ at 4th & Long, Montana. Let’s get somethin’ to eat. . .I think better with food.

Flack: I wanna believe you, Mr. Dox—I really do. Now, Detectives Taylor and Bonasera here—they definitely don’t believe you. They’re all about science. They got a lotta stuff that tells us you’re our killer. Me, I’m old school. So I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt by puttin’ you in a lineup.

220, “Run Silent, Run Deep”

Stella: Well, our banker wasn’t alone. We got a bottle of champagne, chocolate-covered strawberries, and my personal favorite—La Perla underwear. These babies sell for 350 dollars.
Danny: I get my BVD’s in a 3-pack for 10 bucks.

Danny: You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?
Stella: Crime of passion?
Danny: That’s what I’m thinkin’.

Sid: Anything else?
Stella: I’ll take those ribs to go.

Mac: Turns out one of the guns missing from the lot you were arrested with was used in a murder at the Meadowlands.
Sonny: What murder? You mean the one where Carolina beat up the Giants 23 to nothin’ in that wild card game?

Mac: Check missing persons. While you’re at it, send a jpeg over to New York Weekly. Tell ‘em to run the image on the late edition. Ask them not to make a spectacle of the headline.
Adam: It’s the New York Weekly, they. . .
[Mac gives Adam a look]
. . .I’ll try.

Danny: Stell! I got somethin’ from the bedsheets. What’s in the bag?
Stella: Ribs.
Danny: From where, Jojo’s Smokeshack?
Stella: ME’s office.

Danny [referring to spray-on pantyhose]: I love women.

Stella [to suspect]: We found a message written in Vaseline at the Von Arms Hotel, midtown. What exactly did it say, Detective Flack?
Flack: And I quote, ‘I caught you b*tch, get home.’

Stella: You, get your clothes on and stay put. You, take a walk—now!
Flack: Hey boxer shorts! Cold shower’s this way—let’s go.

Adam [To Stella, preparing to stab pig for tool mark comparison]: Hey! Don’t worry—no live animals were hurt during this experiment.

Mac [to Sonny]: Sweet dreams, dead man.

221, “All Access”

[Computer identifies hair source]
Lindsay: It’s a kinkajou.
Danny: Who owns this kind of animal?
Lindsay: It’s a celebrity thing. You get a cute little pet, you drag it around town with you. It’s like a playmate.
Danny: Yeah. . .it’s not the kind of Playmate I could see Kid Rock bein’ into.

Danny [to suspect]: Ten o’clock to eleven o’clock last night—your whereabouts! Those two concepts in one answer!

Danny: Hair—from the kinkapoodle or what is it—got on you.

Lindsay: Enough with the dumbass, Blake! The clothes you were wearing last night are being tested for gunshot residue. You were at the scene! We’re wasting our time.

222, “Stealing Home”

Danny [pointing to NYC skyline]: Montana. See a view like this? Hah? Beats the wheat fields, no?
Lindsay: Have you ever even seen a wheat field?
[Lindsay walks away]
Danny: What’s to see? It’s just wheat.

Sid: Difficult to tell where she got ‘em [calluses].
Lindsay: Rawhide braiding.
Sid: I’m sorry?
Lindsay: Weaving together untanned hides—make reins for horses, lassos to herd cattle. The friction and the pressure of the leather’ll cut you up pretty good. My dad taught me when I was ten. You think Danny calls me Montana ‘cause I’m a 49ers fan?
Sid: He calls you that ‘cause he’s got a crush on you.

Danny [holding up sequin in bed]: Looks like Paul White may have hired Sarah for more than her singin’.

Sid: You ever have a threesome? It’s not as glorious as you might imagine. It gets complicated, dealing with different personalities and hey, sometimes you’re just not in the mood, if you know what I mean. It’s hard enough explaining that to one woman, let alone two.
Hawkes: Sid.
Sid: And then there’s—
Hawkes: Sid. Anything else?
Sid: Just some trace on Don Juan’s right fingers. I’ll send a sample to the lab.
Hawkes: Ok.
Sid: There were these two vivacious young ladies—of course, I was much younger than I am now—
Hawkes: Sid, I gotta go. I gotta go.

Flack [to suspect]: For the last time, Paul, this [sequin] was found in your bed along with semen and vaginal fluid, both of which are being tested as while we speak! Way I see it, the extra hundred wasn’t because Sarah lost her bad. You were gettin’ a little mermaid on the side—am I right?

Mac: Welcome to the house of tri-nogamy.
Hawkes: Wow, I gotta admit, this is not what I expected.
Mac: I’ll bite. What were you expecting?
Hawkes: I dunno—lava lamps, weird tapestries, a robo-spanker, maybe a couple of big—
Mac: All right, all right, sorry I asked.

223, “Heroes”

Flack: Once a Marine, always a Marine.
Mac: And if you’ve attacked one of us, you’ve attacked us all.

Danny: Mac, is this him? Is this the scumbag that killed Aiden?!
Mac: Danny, get outta here.
Danny: Lemme talk to him—oh, I will get him to crack, I promise you!

Lindsay: How well did you know her—Aiden?
Hawkes: Well enough to know that if one of us had been killed, she wouldn’t sleep until the killer was caught.

Flack: Hey.
Danny: Hey, man. You hear anything? On your end? Regarding Aiden’s case?
Flack: Nothin’ new. Just. . .rumors.
Danny: We were supposed to have dinner this weekend. Actually, I was hopin’ she’d offer to cook.
Flack: She knew her way around the kitchen?
Danny: She made a phenomenal chicken parm. Phenomenal.

Danny: You know what? Don’t you test me today, Rondo—you won’t win.

Mac: Okay, so we got brass cleaner and banana beer, you’re thinkin’ specialty bar.
Danny: Boom.

Lindsay: Danny talks about her a lot—Aiden. They were close. I wish I could’ve met her.
Stella: You would’ve liked her.

Flack [to suspect]: Look at me. Where’s the knife?!

Stella [to Pratt]: Just so you know, your lawyer can’t protect you anymore.

Danny: No, no, this is no lie—she, Aiden, gets in my face, right? You know how she did that. And she tells me, ‘Keep dreamin’, Messer—I think you’re cute, but I’m way outta your league.’
[Everyone laughs]
Danny: She could just cut you down like nobody else.

224, “Charge Of This Post”

Lindsay: This is quite a shindig.
Flack: Sunday block parties. Springtime in New York City.
Lindsay: Right in the middle of the street, huh?
Flack: Where do they have ‘em in Montana?
Lindsay: Wyoming.

Mac: Quiet in here.
Flack: This is a brokerage firm. No work on Sundays.
Mac: Must be nice, huh?
Flack: Ye-ah.

Guy in hallway: What’s going on?
Flack: Hey, get the hell outta here!

Lessing: Hard to believe anyone’s gonna survive that blast.
Stella: Yeah, well, Mac Taylor was a Marine. If anybody would survive it, he would.

Mac: I’m gonna get you through this, Don.

Mac: I’m glad you stayed.
Stella: Mac, that’s what we do. We take care of each other.