Mr. Monk and the Candidate

Monk: [surveying a crime scene] The stove.

Lt. Gitomer: Over here. It's in the kitchen.

Monk: No... I mean my stove. I-I think I left it on.

Sharona: It's okay. I, uh, checked it as we were leaving.

Monk: Are you sure? Did you turn the knob?

Sharona: Yeah.

Monk: The little knob, though?

Sharona: I turned all the knobs. The stove is off, Adrian.

Lt. Gitomer: We believe it was a burglary gone sour. She walked in, she surprised him, he panicked, he left there from the kitchen.

Monk: No. No. No, no. No. No. This-This was no burglary.

Lt. Gitomer: It wasn't?

Monk: He tried to make it look like one, but this guy was cold as ice. He wore her slippers to avoid leaving shoe prints - not something your neighborhood crackhead is prone to do.

Sharona: Adrian. Adrian. [she claps her hands to try to get Monk's attention]

Monk: [looking at the closet] He was in here. He was waiting.

Lt. Gitomer: Waiting for what?

Monk: You know, for her. He was here at least an hour. He was smoking. You can still smell it on the curtains. [sniffs the curtains] Menthols. Salems. Possibly Newports.

Lt. Gitomer: Maybe she was the smoker.

Monk: No. No, she was a Dutch Calvinist. They don't smoke. They consider their bodies to be a holy - a holy chalice of - [turns to Sharona] I'm sorry. I'm having trouble concentrating, because I think I smell gas. Did you hear the click? You gotta hear the click, not just feel the click. Hear it. [to the other detectives].

[Monk is silently wandering around a crime scene.]

Policewoman: What's he doing?

Sharona: I love this part. He does this Zen Sherlock Holmes thing.

[Deputy Mayor Sheldon Burger comes in]

Lt. Disher: Incoming, deputy mayor.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Oh, Sheldon Burger, who let you off your leash?

Sheldon Burger I just came from the hospital. Bodyguard didn't make it. Mayor's on his way back from Sacramento. Look, I don't have to tell you, Captain. We're on a bus to hell.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I understand.

Sheldon Burger: If we don't slam dunk this, it's gonna look like we're not trying.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I'm not an idiot, Sheldon! I've got every available man on the case.

Sheldon Burger: No, you don't. Mayor wants you to bring in... your old friend.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [in disbelief] Monk?

Miranda St. Claire: Let me ask you a question. How can you investigate anything? I'm told you're "germophobic," afraid of the dark, heights, crowds... and milk.

Sharona: We're working on the milk. He's making good progress on milk.

Miranda St. Claire: Ah.

Monk: Mrs. St. Claire, I - I sense that you're a little upset, but I can tell you why I dropped my keys. I've been a bit preoccupied with another case. A girl was murdered in Santa Clara. Uh, a Nicole Vasques. Did you know her?

Miranda St. Claire: No.

Monk: No?

Miranda St. Claire: No.

Miranda St. Claire: What I do know is, if my husband is elected Mayor, you will never work in this town again. [to her aide] Let's go.

[She walks off.]

Monk: [to Sharona] Are you registered to vote?

Sharona: I never vote. It only encourages them.

Mr. Monk and the Psychic

[ Dirt-fearing Monk is standing a distance from the muddy car crash site on a plank.]

Sharona: Adrian! Don't you want a closer look?

Monk: No, I-I can see from here.

Sharona: Would you like us to move the crash site a little closer to you?

[Capt. Stottlemeyer returns to his office to find Monk and Sharona waiting inside.]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Oh, I'm sorry, I thought this was my office. Yeah, see, I-I'm confused because my name is on the door.

Monk: Don't... don't blame Sharona, Captain.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I have no intention of blaming Sharona. [looks at his desk, which has been cleaned off] What happened here?

Monk: I took the liberty of straightening up a little.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Where is all my crap?

Monk: Obviously, I had to throw some things away.

[Monk is looking for some evidence in a hardware store.]

Monk: It's a small pebble. It's about the size... of a... small pebble.

[Monk finds the crucial piece of evidence lodged in his hair after Sharona has been rooting around in a dumpster for it.]

Monk: Oh, wait. I found it.

Sharona: Where was it?!

Monk: It was in my... it must have flown up and got caught in my...

Sharona: [hits the side of the dumpster] GO-OD! I can't believe I listened to you! You're driving me nuts!

Monk: You gotta be a little skeptical, Sharona. Otherwise you end up believing in everything — UFOs, elves, income tax rebates...

Mr. Monk Meets Dale the Whale

[Looking around the house, Monk spots the pried-open smoke alarm]

Monk: What’s—what’s with this?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: That’s a smoke alarm. She was in the kitchen cooking something when he broke in. It started to burn.

Lt. Disher: A little girl across the street saw the guy turning it off.

Adrian Monk: So there was a witness?

Lt. Disher: She’s 10 years old. She didn’t see much.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: So the perp breaks in. He goes berserk in here. The victim runs upstairs and calls 911.

Monk: It’s strange.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What’s strange?

Monk: The phone. He didn’t take the phone off the hook. So, what? He just let her call 911? [Monk inspects the kitchen. He finds a few leftovers in the fridge] Any prints?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Nope, nothing so far.

Monk: So, she’s here cooking. He breaks in. He’s a big guy. Lot of noise.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: He must’ve cornered her in here, and then chased her out and caught up with her in the bedroom?

Monk: I would’ve grabbed a knife. [points to the knife rack] Why didn’t she grab a knife?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I don’t know. [Monk observes the bedroom] She was over here on the phone. Severe blunt trauma to the head with a baseball bat. [Monk eyes one of the phones]

Monk: Has this phone been touched?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, no. The scene’s intact. [Monk holds the phone with a handkerchief to avoid contaminating fingerprints; he punches a button on the receiver but only gets static until he pulls up the antenna]

Monk: The antenna has to be up to get a signal in here.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: So?

Monk: Somebody lowered it all the way after the call. You don’t usually see that when someone’s getting bludgeoned to death.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Excuse me, Doctor. Now, if Biederbeck is too big to get out of the room, how’d he get there in the first place? He’s like a ship in a bottle.

Dr. Christiaan Vezza: Well, when he first bought the apartment, he weighed a mere 422 pounds. He could still walk. On a good day, he could see his toes. Then his mother died, and he had a complete breakdown. He started binging. He would call restaurants and order everything on the menu. He topped out at 927 pounds. That was a decade ago. He has not left the room since.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Like I said, it’s just not possible.

[Late at night, Stottlemeyer and Disher brainstorm on how the immobile Biederbeck could have killed the judge.]

Lt. Disher: What time is it?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [checks his watch] No, don’t ask. [Randy looks at his watch and both policemen sigh.] Whew.

Lt. Disher: Oh— [sniffs] Okay. Okay. Okay. Maybe we’re looking at this all wrong. Maybe he killed her in his apartment, and then he somehow moved the body back to her house.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No. What about the 911 call? She made it from the house.

Lt. Disher: What about liposuction?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What?

Lt. Disher: Liposuction, yeah! He... he lipo'd himself down to like, uh... I don't know, like 400 pounds. Down the elevator, across town... killed the judge.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, how did he gain all the weight back?

[Long pause]

Lt. Disher: Reverse liposuction.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Oh, my God.

Lt. Disher: Yeah, he just pumped it all back in.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You think that’s possible?

Lt. Disher: I don’t know. Should I call a doctor?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No. [chuckles] Let’s keep our reverse liposuction theory to ourselves. Okay, Randy?

[Stottlemeyer arrives to arrest Dale for the murder, interrupting Dale's video-talk with another girl]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Hello, Mr. Biederbeck.

Dale "The Whale" Biederbeck: Captain. I really wish you would’ve called. I’m a little busy at the moment.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I’m here to arrest you for the murder of Judge Kate Lavinio. [tosses Dale an envelope] That’s a warrant. Duly sworn.

Dale "The Whale" Biederbeck: [to the girl on TV] Sweetheart, I’m gonna have to call you back. [turns off the monitor] Doctor, will you call Howard Klein and tell him we’re suing the city for malicious prosecution…again? [Stottlemeyer motions towards the French doors]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I have hired a local construction company to take out this door. We’re gonna get a crane here and lower your fat ass down to the street.

Dale "The Whale" Biederbeck: [laughs] A crane? Oh, that’s rich. But would you mind explaining to me how I’m supposed to have killed the bitch? I can’t leave this room, remember?

Captain Stottlemeyer: Mr. Monk!

Dale "the Whale" Biederbeck: Well, my, my, my. [Monk, Sharona, and a uniformed cop enter, carrying two chairs] It’s the defective detective once more. Lay it on me, Einstein.

Monk: These two chairs are from the judge’s house. The killer stood on one of them when he turned off the smoke alarm. A girl in the neighborhood saw, quote, a very, very fat man standing on it. But there’s something funny about the chair. It’s not broken. [refers to the uniform] This is Sergeant Cargill from the 14th Precinct. Sergeant, how much do you weigh?

Sgt. Cargill: 265.

Monk: Would you mind? [Cargill stands on top of the chair, which breaks under his weight] So, how could a very, very fat man have stood on it? There’s only one explanation. He was a fat man, not a heavy man. Lieutenant? [Randy enters wearing Dr. Vezza's empathy suit] I visited your clinic today and borrowed one of your empathy suits. [Randy stands on the other chair, which does not break] Fat, but not heavy. I believe we have another warrant to serve.

[Monk and Sharona are walking down a pier.]

Sharona: Adrian, can I ask you something? If it's none of my business, I promise I'll shut up.

Monk: I doubt it.

[They smile and there is a pause as they keep walking.]

Sharona: What did Trudy mean by "bread and butter"?

Monk: Whenever Trudy and I were walking somewhere, we would hold hands, and if there was a lamp post or somebody walked between us and we had to let go for a second, she'd always say "bread and butter".

Sharona: So when she died...

Monk: Yeah, I think it was a message for me. She was saying, "I have to let go now for a little while, but it won't be forever."

[She takes his arm in hers and they continue walking.].

Mr. Monk Goes to the Carnival

[After Monk breaks her car's headlight while driving, Sharona stops him from getting back behind the wheel.]

Sharona: I'm driving. When Hell freezes over, you can drive again. No — you know what? Even if Hell freezes over, I'm still driving, because I don't want you driving on the ice! Get in the car!

[Capt. Stottlemeyer comes out of the hearing, having failed to support Monk's reinstatement.]

Sharona: You son of a bitch.

Monk: I thought you were gonna do the right thing.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I think I did do the right thing.

Sharona: He saves your ass all the time, and he never asks for anything in return. He closes case after case, and then he goes home and watches you on the news taking all the credit!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I wanted to recommend you, I tried to recommend you, but I just couldn't do it. Adrian, you are not ready to carry a gun. You're not ready to have other cops depend on you under fire. In your heart, you know you're not ready. [Monk walks off]

Sharona: At least your friend Adam Kirk has the decency to stab people in the front.

[Stottlemeyer and Disher are in Stottlemeyer's office]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Hey, Randy, did I ever tell you about Monk's first day as a detective?

Lt. Disher: No, sir.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Take a seat. [Randy does] He didn't have a partner, so I got stuck with him.

Lt. Disher: Was he, uh...? [motions to his head]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, no. He was... a little wound. He used to clean the windshield and rearrange the glovebox before we'd roll. Anyway, we're the primaries on a body at a hotel in the Castro. A hooker had swallowed a bunch of promazine - you know, the big sleeping pills?

Lt. Disher: Horse tranquilizers, sir.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I said suicide. Every cop on the scene said suicide. Medical examiner said suicide. Monk walks in, says murder. "Where's the water?" The room had no water! Simple. Eight people in the room, but nobody saw that.

Lt. Disher: Well, I'm sure you would have seen it eventually, sir.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Don't kid yourself. There is only one Adrian Monk.

Sharona: Let's go up in the Ferris Wheel, then we'll be able to see everything.

Monk: I've got a better idea. You go up in the Ferris Wheel and you can see everything.

[cuts to Sharona in the bucket]

Sharona: You do know how to operate this thing, right?

Monk: How hard can it be?

Sharona: So you remember how many empty boxes you saw?

Monk: Yes. It's a blessing, and a curse. Now don't ever take my shoes again!

Mr. Monk Goes to the Asylum

[Monk and the other patients are painting their self-portraits]

Dr. Morris Lancaster: Now remember, this is supposed to be a self portrait. How do you feel about yourself? Look deep inside. There's no right or wrong. [looks over one patient's work] Very good. I love those eyes.

Monk: Excuse me, Doctor. Is there a sink nearby?

[Jane Gordon sighs]

Monk: I-I-I need to wash up.

Jane Gordon: Will you shut him up! He has been whining since he walked in here. It's too hot. It's too cold. I have charcoal on my hands!

Dr. Morris Lancaster: Jane, what did we talk about yesterday?

Jane Gordon: [takes a breath] Controlling the urge to lash out.

Dr. Morris Lancaster: Do you have something you wanna say to Mr. Monk?

Jane Gordon: [sighs] Sorry.

Monk: That's okay. I do have a little charcoal on my hands.

Manny: Dr. Lancaster, guess what I'm painting!

Everyone: Santa Claus!

Dr. Morris Lancaster: All right, all right. [He looks at Manny's work] Huh. Well, you know this is supposed to be a self-portrait. [We see that Manny has painted a HUGE Santa Claus, with a tiny boy at his feet]

Manny: [points to the little boy] That's me.

Dr. Morris Lancaster: Hmm. Why are you so small?

Manny: Everybody's small compared to Santa. [Janie turns to Monk]

Jane Gordon: He actually sits up every night and waits for him.

Manny: I have a feeling he's on his way. It's definitely getting colder outside.

Jane Gordon: It's August, whackjob!

Dr. Morris Lancaster: It's all right. Back to work. Come on. Come on. Go ahead. Go ahead.

Dr. Morris Lancaster: If anything, his behavior has deteriorated. We may have to keep him here longer than we thought.

Sharona: Well, how much longer?

Dr. Morris Lancaster: That's hard to say. It could be a month.

Sharona: A month? [They examine Monk, standing out in the garden]

Dr. Morris Lancaster: It could be as long as a year. Adrian is bipolar. He's delusional and he's paranoid. He sees murder mysteries everywhere he turns. In fact, he's befriended another patient, and the two of them are trying to prove that Santa Claus really does exist.

Sharona: Santa Claus?

Dr. Morris Lancaster: Mm-hmm. They went out on the roof collecting evidence. It would be funny if it wasn't so... dysfunctional. [Dr. Lancaster and Sharona meet Monk] Adrian, look who's here.

Sharona: Hey, boss. How you feelin'?

Monk: Ah, I feel good. I can't-I can't wait to go home.

Sharona: Well, we were just talking about that.

Dr. Morris Lancaster: Adrian, would you mind if I showed your friend some of the artwork that you made yesterday? [He shows some artwork] Oh, here it is. Wait a minute. [shows them a disturbed image of Trudy's grave]

Monk: Did I draw that?

Dr. Morris Lancaster: You don't remember? Isn't that Trudy's grave?

Sharona: Um, Dr. Lancaster said that you saw Santa Claus.

Monk: [scoffs] No, we didn't actually see him. Manny took a picture, but he lost the camera. But we found a piece of a red suit.

Dr. Morris Lancaster: We'd love to see it, Adrian.

[Monk looks through his pockets for the piece of Santa fabric that he found, but he can't find it]

Monk: It was here. It was in here. A little piece of fabric, you know, of Santa's-Santa's, you know, suit. Okay, no, no. It was a piece of... fabric, and...

Sharona: Doctor? Can I talk to you privately?

Monk: Like... Santa's suit.

Dr. Morris Lancaster: Sure. [He and Sharona walk away]

Sharona: He's not himself. He needs me. Look, I could be here two, three times a week, okay? I still have my license. Maybe they can give me a job here.

Dr. Morris Lancaster: Sharona, I know you mean well, but the less contact Adrian has with his old life, the better. You can write him a letter. You can bring him something from home. I'm sure he'd like that, but no visits.

[Sharona approaches Monk, who is now looking under his bed]

Sharona: Look, Adrian. I-listen, I-I can't take you home right now.

Monk: Sharona, look at his shoes, just look at his shoes. They're smudged. Could be soot. Those are boat shoes. They're made for traction. And I think, he has been walking on the roof.

[On the hospital's roof, Monk addresses "Santa," in reality Dr. Lancaster in disguise, as the police cover them from below.]

Monk: By the way, in case we don't get a chance to talk later, just want you to know — except for the murders and your trying to kill me, you really were the best doctor I ever had.

Monk: Don't laugh, I just wanted to make sure.

Sharona: Is there a tree by the window?

Monk: Yes.

Sharona: Is there a mobile by the closet?

Monk: Yes.

Sharona: Is there a picture of Trudy on the nightstand?

Monk: Yes.

Sharona: Adrian, you are in your own house.

Mr. Monk and the Billionaire Mugger

[Disher comes into Stottlemeyer's office]

Lt. Disher: Captain.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You just missed the deputy commissioner. Guess what he wanted to talk about? Murder rates spiking? The Sidney Teal investigation? No, all he wanted to know was what we’re doing about the runaway cop.

Lt. Disher: Fraidy Cop. [drops a newspaper on Stottlemeyer's desk]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Excuse me?

Lt. Disher: That’s what they’re calling him. [Stottlemeyer scruitinizes the article] We, uh, sort of pieced together the route he took. [He walks over to a blown up street map of San Francisco, and sighs wearily] I don't know. Okay. [He pulls out a few pushpins] After the shooting, three people saw him running west towards the park here, and on 19th, here, [Inserts a pushpin into an intersection] he flagged down a taxi.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: He took a taxi?

Lt. Disher: Yeah, it gets worse. He, uh, threw up in the backseat. But we did get his blood type from the vomit. The taxi then, uh, dropped him off at a bar up on Geary Street... [inserts another pushpin on the map] ...there, where he sat in a booth at the back, apparently drinking bourbon and crying.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: He was crying? Oh, dear Lord.

Lt. Disher: About midnight, an older woman in a brown station wagon was seen picking him up. Possibly his mother.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: He called his mom?

Lt. Disher: Yeah.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, that son-of-a-bitch better hope I don’t find him first. [He looks at the cartographic sketch of Fraidy Cop].

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [at a press conference] Sidney Teal did not suffer a nervous breakdown. The incident on Harrison Place was, in fact, a crime of passion. We believe that Mr. Teal, was in fact trying to murder Mr. Modine, who was linked romantically at one time with Mr. Teal’s wife, Myra. Over the next 10 days, the D.A.’s office is going to decide whether or not they want to press charges against Mr. Modine for filing a false report. Any questions?

Reporter #1: Captain, is there any news on Fraidy Cop?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No comment.

Reporter #1: Captain, there’s a story in today’s Tribune that says the department knows the identity of Fraidy Cop, but is refusing to release it.

Reporter #2: Is that true, Captain?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No comment. [The reporters all clamor for a few moments until Stottlemeyer interrupts] All right. Hey, hey. Hang on. I have another statement, and here it is: The next reporter that asks me about this so-called Fraidy Cop is going to be banned from all press conferences for a year.

Monk: Walk me through it.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: It’s pretty routine till we get to the punch line. Modine and his date are walking to their car over here. The, uh, perp is over here. Now, the perp pops out with a knife. Modine pulls out his piece, .38 caliber... [off Monk's look] I already called, he’s licensed. Bang, bang, bang. Three in the chest.

Monk: So, I just have one question: What am I doing here?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Here comes the punch line: Our perp is Sidney Teal.

Sharona: The computer guy?

Monk: Get out of town!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Take a look. [lifts up the canvas covering the late Sidney Teal] That’s what $5 billion looks like.

Monk: Get-out-of-town! What in God’s name was he doing? [Stottlemeyer puts Teal's false mustache in an evidence bag]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I think maybe, that this is how he got his kicks. I mean, that kind of money can make a person crazy.

Monk: Yeah. I wouldn’t know.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah, right. Anyway, that’s my theory. If you’ve got a better one, I’d really like to hear it.

Monk: Well—

Sharona: No. No. Captain, we can’t start working until we talk about our fee!

Monk: Sharona, could you give me a second here? [Sharona walks away] You know, this is insane.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah, it’s crazy. It gets crazier. Check this out. [He uncovers Teal's leg] This guy’s wearin’ knee pads.

Monk: Knee pads?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah, and he’s got elbow pads.

Monk: Was he planning on going rollerblading after?

[Sharona solves the case by reading Sydney Teal's autobiography while working at a lamp store]

Sharona: Excuse me, miss? We're closing.

Customer: Now?

Sharona: That's right.

Customer: Why?

Sharona: It's a holiday.

Customer: What holiday?

Sharona: [Sharona pauses and looks around] It's...Lamp Day!

[Monk and Sharona question Sidney Teal's chauffeur]

Willis: You know, it's funny. Mr. Teal had it all - more money than God, a beautiful wife - but he was the loneliest man on the planet. I was the chauffeur, and I felt sorry for him.

Sharona: Feeling sorry for your boss? I can't imagine how that must feel.

Adrian Monk: Get in the car!

Mr. Monk and the Other Woman

Monk: It doesn't make any sense.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Does everything have to make sense, Monk?

Monk: Well... yeah, it kinda does.

Todd: You should be ashamed of yourself!

Monk: I am, 24-7.

[Adrian packs to stay overnight at Monica's after a murder in her garage.]

Sharona: I am not coming to get you in the middle of the night!

Monk: You won't have to get me — I'm not a child, Sharona. [worriedly] Can't find my PJs!

[After Stottlemeyer ruins Monk's night "sleepover" with a wrong accusation, and Monk nevertheless solves the case...]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Hey, Monk!

[Stottlemeyer shuffles uncomfortably for a moment.]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I'm sorry.

Monk: You don't have to say that.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yes, I do. Commissioner is making me.

Mr. Monk and the Marathon Man

Monk: [about someone's sweater that he tried to fix] It was askew!

Sharona: So what? So what — why can't you just let people be askew? I mean, what are you, the Askew Police?

Monk: Yes, I'm the Askew Police.

[Stottlemeyer et al. confront McDowell about his affair with the murder victim.]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: She was your girlfriend.

McDowell: Yes, uh... I really screwed up, big time.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: How long have you been "screwing up"?

[Tonday gives Monk his headband from his famous 1973 run. Monk places it against his cheek.]

Monk: Thank you, my friend. Thank you for this. This... means the world to me.

Tonday: I haven't worn it since the big race. Or washed it.

[Tonday gets into his taxi. Monk pulls the headband off his cheek and stares at it.]

Monk: Baggie! Baggie! Baggie, baggie!

Sharona: Just give it to me.

Mr. Monk Takes a Vacation

[Monk and Benjy observe Sharona losing to a handsome acquaintance at tennis.]

Benjy: Mom coulda got that shot. You think she's letting him win?

Monk: I wouldn't be surprised.

Benjy: You know, why do girls do that?

Adrian Monk: Someday you'll understand. [pauses] When you do, call me and explain it to me.

[Monk and Disher are talking on the phone]

Lt. Disher: So, you want to tell me what's going on?

Monk: I think this time, he might have killed his wife.

Lt. Disher: Where are you staying, Monk? The Bates Motel?

Monk: No, but I think this place is run by the same company.

[Trying to locate the murder victim, Monk investigates some missing bags of quicklime.]

Monk: There had to be more than one person. I think we're looking for a gang. [looks at the window] Did you move those palette boards?

Groundskeeper: They don't belong there.

[Monk compares the window height to the palette stack height.]

Monk: They were short.

Groundskeeper: A short gang of lime thieves?

Monk: It's a nutty world.

Monk: Okay, just for the record, what we just did...

Benjy: Breaking and entering?

Monk: Yeah... it's wrong. Don't-don't do it.

[Monk, with Benjy tagging along, checks out the maids' locker room.]

Benjy: Think the dead body's in here?

Monk: Maybe. It's been everywhere else.

Mr. Monk and the Earthquake

[The earthquake prevents Sharona and Benjy from returning to their home.]

Sharona: Well, we can always stay at Aunt Gail's.

Benjy: Why can't we stay at Mr. Monk's?

Sharona: Because I will go crazy slower at Aunt Gail's.

[As they sit with the new widow, gibberish-speaking Adrian attempts to express his condolences. Sharona tells him to leave the room.]

Father Hatcher: Um... where's he from?

Sharona: Neptune.

[Benjy turns on the tap and rusty colored water comes out]

Benjy: The water's all rusty!

Gail Fleming: Oh yeah, it always gets like that after an earthquake. Fortunately, I always keep some mineral water around for situations like this... Where's my water?

[She opens the cupboard under the sink, which is empty. Cuts to the bathroom, where Monk is soaking in the tub, surrounded by empty plastic bottles.]

Gail Fleming: [banging on the door] Mr. Monk?

Monk: Don't come in, I'm taking a bath.

Gail Fleming: With my mineral water?!

Monk: I tried the water from the tap, it was a little rusty.

Gail Fleming: Yeah well, enjoy that bath, it's costing me $95 dollars!

Monk: [oblivious to her sarcasm] Thank you!

Lt. Disher: So, uh... what's it like, having Adrian Monk as a house guest?

Gail Fleming: Well, a few years ago, a squirrel got into the house, and I could hear it running through the attic and the walls. Took me two months to get rid of it. Drove me crazy.

Lt. Disher: ...And?

Gail Fleming: And, that's what it's like!

[Sharona kicks Darryl into the arms of Capt. Stottlemeyer, who grabs him from behind.]

Darryl Wright: Son of a bitch!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I'm surprised you can talk with a broken jaw.

Darryl Wright: I don't have a broken jaw!

[Stottlemeyer spins him around and belts him.].

Mr. Monk and the Red-Headed Stranger

[Monk rattles off an arcane observation about one of Willie's studio recordings.]

Willie Nelson: You know more about me than I do.

Sharona: He knows more about everybody than they do.

[Monk, Sharona, Stottlemeyer and Disher are in Stottlemeyer's office]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Close the door. [Randy closes the door] What you are about to see cannot leave this room. The tabloids would pay a million dollars for this videotape. It's from the surveillance camera near the crime scene. [Randy presses play on the tape]

Lt. Disher: The alley's a dead end. This is the only way in. The side door to the radio station was wired to an alarm, so we know it wasn't opened.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: The bottom line: we can tell for sure who was or was not there. [Monk pretends playing the clarinet] What the hell are you doing? [Monk signals to Stottlemeyer to wait a minute]

Sharona: Oh, uh, he's practicing.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Really?

Sharona: Willie Nelson invited him to sit in with his band.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, he may be live from Folsom Prison. Check this out. Go ahead. [Randy presses play on the tape. On the tape, Mrs. Mass pass by the camera as she enters the alleyway, tapping her cane as she feels around] Yeah, there goes Mrs. Mass. Tap, tap, tap. She goes into the alley. Fast-forward. [Randy fast forwards the tape a few minutes; Sonny Cross walks by the camera] And there goes the soon-to-be-late Sonny Cross. [A few seconds after Sonny Cross enters, Willie Nelson runs past the camera] And there goes Willie Nelson. Nobody else goes in or out. Pretty much a slam dunk.

Sharona: Are you gonna arrest him?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: D.A.'s ready to move. I'm waiting for some tests from the lab. Maybe tomorrow. [turns to Randy] Call your mom. Tell her to set the VCR. We're gonna be on the 6:00 news.

Monk: Captain, what about the note on the door?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: My videotape trumps your note. Ask any lawyer.

Monk: I don't know.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Monk, look. My heroes have been always been cowboys too. It's either "A," the blind woman, who has zero motive, or it's "B," your buddy, the Red-Headed Stranger.

Lt. Disher: Who had motive, means and opportunity, and was the identified by the only witness at the scene.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: "A" or "B", Monk?

Monk: I think it's "C".

Capt. Stottlemeyer: "C"? What the hell is "C"?

Monk: I don't know yet.

Lt. Disher: So, what's the plan?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, you know how they handled the O.J. case down in Los Angeles? We do the opposite. Where are we?

Lt. Disher: Uh, same as I told you on the phone, sir. Mrs. Mass is reasonably sure that she can recognize the assailant's voice.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Reasonably sure. [turns to Mrs. Mass] Excuse me, Mrs. Mass? Do you listen to country and western music?

Wendy Maas: No, I like classical.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Okay. Good. Bring him in.

Lt. Disher: Sir, are you ready for this?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What is this? A game show? Can't you just walk in here and say what you have to say?

Lt. Disher: The droplets on Willie Nelson's jacket: human blood from the victim.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, he said that he leaned over the body. Maybe he got the blood on him then.

Lt. Disher: The lab is 40% sure they're splatter marks from the actual shooting.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: 40%?

Lt. Disher: What do you think?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, I think it's not exactly through the hoop, is it?

Lt. Disher: Okay, the blood is 40%. Videotape?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Forty-eight percent.

Lt. Disher: Voice I.D.?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Fifteen percent.

Lt. Disher: Motive?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Twenty.

Lt. Disher: Well, that's like 123%. I mean, plus means and opportunity.

[Stottlemeyer sighs]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: All right, bring him in. I have to be crazy. Be plumb out of my mind to arrest Willie Nelson.

[Stottlemeyer comes to the recording studio to arrest Willie Nelson for murder]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Willie Nelson?

Jody Payne - Band Member #1: I'm Willie Nelson.

Bee Spears - Band Member #2: I'm Willie Nelson.

Mickey Raphael - Band Member #3: I'm Willie Nelson.

Willie Nelson: Don't think they're goin' for it, boys.

Lt. Disher: Mr. Nelson, we have a warrant for your arrest for the premeditated murder of Jason "Sonny" Cross.

Mr. Monk and the Airplane

Monk: She forgot she was a vegetarian? Who forgets they're vegetarian? It's like... forgetting you're a Republican.

[Monk is talking to Lt. Disher on an airplane phone.]

Lt. Disher: Are you really up there in an airplane?

Monk: It's better than being up here not in an airplane.

[Stephan's girlfriend locks Monk inside the bathroom while he is changing. He starts banging on the door and Sharona comes to rescue him.]

Monk: Sharona! Open up! This isn't funny!

[Sharona opens the door. Monk pops out, clutching a piece of paper.]

Sharona: What's that?

Monk: It's my will.

[Monk observes Stefan and Barbara Chabrol's behavior when a close friend, Bernard, comes up]

Bernard: Stefan!

Stefan Chabrol: Bernard.

Bernard: [chuckles] What a small world. Can you believe this?

Stefan Chabrol: No.

Bernard: I was just thinking about your father, God rest his soul. Are you heading back home?

Stefan Chabrol: Yeah, that’s right.

Bernard: Yes, me too. I haven’t seen you since the big anniversary party.

Stefan Chabrol: Ah! [Bernard turns to Barbara]

Bernard: Barbara, ravissante, comme toujours. ["Barbara, lovely, as always."] [He kisses her hand]

Barbara Chabrol: It’s a pleasure to meet you.

Bernard: To meet me? Well, you don’t remember. [laughs] You’re breaking an old man’s heart. I taught you how to waltz that night.

Barbara Chabrol: Oh, yes. Of course you did, I’m sorry, I’d forgotten.

Bernard: Moi, j’aurais pu jamais oubliee une soiree pareille. ["Me, I could have never forgotten that evening."]

Barbara Chabrol: I’m sorry, I don’t speak French.

Bernard: Since when? We spoke for over an hour. That was only three years ago.

Stefan Chabrol: Uh, Bernard.

[Monk takes drastic measures to stop the Chabrols from leaving Newark]

Monk: Hi! Hello. [clears his throat] Yeah, I’m, uh, worried about a buddy of mine, uh, Captain Claude Pritchard.

Man on phone: Claude Pritchard the pilot, yeah. He’s on the tarmac right now. He’s been cleared to take off.

Monk: So, he made it okay. What a relief. Unbelievable.

Man on phone: What do you mean?

Monk: Uh, oh, he was in pretty bad shape when I left him. We were out partying all last night, and into this morning, and…we’re just…party boys.

Man on phone: Party boys?

Monk: Yeah. Yeah, it was pretty ugly there for—I tried to take his keys away, but you know how old Claude gets when he’s totally… [Sharona mouths the word "hammered"] Hammered.

[Cuts to the inside of the plane, where Stefan Chabrol and "Barbara" toast their wine glasses]

Stewardess: Ladies and gentlemen, we have been asked to return to the gate. Please stay in your seats. We will be underway in just a few moments.

Mr. Monk Goes Back to School

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, I guess this is your worst nightmare, a crime scene on a rooftop.

Monk: No, it's not my worst nightmare. It's my fourth worst. No, wait, fifth. No, fourth. Fourth or fifth, I didn't bring the list with me.

Monk: [repeating Derek Philby's words back to him] Q.E.D. Quod erat demonstratum. "Thus it is proven".

Monk: Used to be. Um... I'm a private consultant now, and, uh... I'm just helping the department with their friendship group.

Derek Philby: Excuse me, what are you doing?

Monk: Oh - um... just making them even.

Derek Philby: [highly amused at the little display] But you're mixing the regular with the decaf!

Monk: But they're even.

Derek Philby: But they're mixed together!

Monk: But they're - they're even.

Derek Philby: But they're mixed together.

Monk: But they're even...

Derek Philby: But they're mixed together.

Monk: But they're even...

[changes the subject].

Mr. Monk Goes to Mexico

[Monk's suitcases, filled with food and water, get stolen]

Monk: What am I going to eat and drink?

Sharona: Adrian, they have food and water in Mexico.

Monk: Answer the question! What am I going to eat and drink!?

[Monk has been presumed dead]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I want a full-dress funeral, white gloves and black armbands, twenty-one gun salute. I want the governor there, and I want the mayor to give a eulogy...

Lt. Disher: Monk wasn't on active duty, sir. We can't go full-dress...

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Adrian Monk is to be buried with honors, or I quit! Let me tell you something, Lieutenant, and I'm not afraid to say this: I loved that man.

[The phone rings]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [answers] Stottlemeyer... yes. Yes, I understand. [hangs up] Adrian Monk is alive. I HATE THAT MAN!

Lt. Plato: Maybe you come back alone, you can earn some more necklaces.

Sharona: Why does everybody keep mentioning my necklaces?

Lt. Plato: They are fiesta beads.

Sharona: What are fiesta beads?

Lt. Plato: You don't remember how you got them?

Sharona: Ahh, no.

Lt. Plato: Guys give them to girls... at parties.

Sharona: Oh, what for?

[Lt. Plato whispers to Sharona]

Sharona: [gasps] Oh my God, why didn't you tell me?!

Lt. Plato: You wore them so... proudly!

[explaining what happened, hoarsely, as he hasn't drank any water in days]

Monk: He was a thirsty victim...

Sharona: Adrian.

Monk: I mean, the perfect victim.

Mr. Monk Goes to the Ballgame

[Monk gets baseball star Scott Gregorio to coach Benjy at batting practice.]

Sharona: Thank you, Adrian! [pause] I thought I'd thank you now, because in a half an hour, you're probably gonna piss me off again.

Monk: You're welcome.

Scott Gregorio: They say that when you lose an arm, you can still feel it. That's what it feels like. I miss her so much. How do you... how do you go on? How do you keep working?

Monk: When Trudy fell in love with me, I was a detective. I was on the street, breaking cases. So I keep working. I keep trying to be the man she loved. That's all you can do: be the man she loved.

[Monk solves the case, and brings a videotape to prove his theory.]

Monk: Can I make a prediction here? You're each going to say, "Oh, my God" twice.

Sharona: Okay, here it is!

Monk: Don't blink.

[They watch the video.]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Oh, my God.

Lt. Disher: Oh, my God!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Oh, my...

Lt. Disher: Oh, my God!

Monk: [off Stottlemeyer's look] My God.

[after the season ends, and Scott has failed to break a famous record]

Scott Gregorio: ...But I would like to say something. I met a man recently. He's become a good friend. He reminded me that there are things in life much more important than baseball. What matters most, is the people you love. Being true to them, or their memories. That's the real ball game. My friend isn't giving up on that, and neither am I. I'll see you all in spring training.

Mr. Monk Goes to the Circus

Capt. Stottlemeyer: All right. It's 12:30, the place is packed. Everybody's having a good time. Then the perp, dressed in black, comes down the fire escape, and leaps down.

Monk: Wait a minute, he leaps down?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yep. [points] Now the maitre'd is here, trying to call 911 on his cell phone. He confronts the perp, the perp does a spin move... [spins and lifts up his foot; imitating the killer] Hits the phone out of the maitre'd's hand.

Monk: Really?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: At this point, pulls a gun, fires one round, right through the guy's heart - killshot. [imitates pulling a gun]

Monk: From here? What is that, thirty feet?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Thirty-four. I know, that's a hell of a shot. We pulled that slug out of the planter box.

Lt. Disher: Look at this. [He shows Monk an evidence bag containing the recovered bullet]

Monk: [incredulous] What did he use? A cannon?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: That's a .454 from a Ruger Casull.

Lt. Disher: They use it on safaris, to stop elephants.

Monk: And who was the victim?

Lt. Disher: [looks at his notes] Uh, his name is Sergei Cluvarias. They're running it now.

Monk: Table's set for two. Who was his date?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Some broad. She ran off. We'll have a sketch soon. [Monk looks at the table]

Monk: Uh-huh. Where is the sugar?

Lt. Disher: Sugar? [We see a close up of the empty sugar bowl, with just a trace of unrefined sugar lining it]

Monk: The sugar cubes. This bowl's empty. All the other bowls are full.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You're right. What's that mean?

Monk: I don't know. What about the cashier?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, showed zero interest. This wasn't about money.

Lt. Disher: Or it was, and he got scared away. [Monk picks up something off another table with his fingers]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What's that?

Monk: Wood shavings.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Wood shavings?

Monk: Sawdust?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Randy! [Randy comes back with an evidence bag]

Monk: What happened next?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, the getaway, which is why you're here. I thought this might be right up your alley.

Lt. Disher: No pun intended. [Stottlemeyer and Monk shoot a nasty glare at Randy]

Monk: What pun is that?

Lt. Disher: Because of the alley.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Shecky, can I continue? All right. For once, the witnesses are all on the same page: they all saw the perp jump to this table, and then leaped up to this bar [He gestures to show the killer's actions] …and did a somersault, and then over the valet, runs down the street and makes a left turn down the alley.

[Monk looks on]

Monk: Is there a circus in town?

Lt. Disher: A circus? [An officer hands something to Randy]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Ha ha. Circus. That makes a lot of sense. [Randy turns to them]

Lt. Disher: Sir?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah?

Lt. Disher: We just got a positive on the victim. He's the master of ceremony at the Dratch & Denby Traveling Circus.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Master of ceremonies?

Lt. Disher: Yeah, the ringmaster.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: At the circus?

Monk: [at the circus] I'm not really in my comfort zone here.

Sharona: You have a comfort zone?

Monk: Yes, I have a comfort zone. [He jumps as a woman snake-charmer sticks a python in his face]

Sharona: I've never seen your comfort zone.

Monk: It's not very big. It's, uh... [tries to size it up with his hands]...it's kind of small. I-I don't have a comfort zone.

[Monk and Sharona talk to Arianna Dakkar, the horse trainer]

Monk: Miss Dakkar, we're investigating the death of Sergei Cluvarias.

Ariana Dakkar: Why talk to me?

Monk: You were with him last night, weren't you? At the cafe when he was killed.

Ariana Dakkar: Who told you that?

Monk: No one told me. You shouldn't have taken all the sugar cubes from the table.

Ariana Dakkar: I shouldn't have run away, I know, but I was scared. I was sure she was going to kill me, too.

Monk: "She"? You think the killer was a woman? [Ariana’s demeanor changes]

Ariana Dakkar: I don't think anything. I know exactly who it was! I know she was crazy, but I never thought she would try something in public.

Sharona: Who?

Ariana Dakkar: Natasia Lovara. She calls herself The Queen of The Sky.

Monk: An acrobat.

Ariana Dakkar: Sergei's ex-wife. Jealous bitch! [As she continues to talk, she goes off to reach into her purse for a grooming implement] She couldn't stand the thought of him having a life. If she's miserable, everybody else has to be miserable. She tried to kill him before, six months ago, but there wasn't enough evidence to indict her.

Sharona: If you know who did it, why didn't you go to the police?

Monk: Because she was afraid. You're not a citizen yet, but you're about to take your naturalization test, and you didn't want to draw attention to herself.

Ariana Dakkar: How did you know that?

Monk: The pamphlet in your bag. You're studying the U.S. Constitution, something no citizen would ever do. Good luck, by the way.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You know, when Karen and I were having trouble last year, we went to a marriage counselor, a guy named Mosely. Decent guy. He didn't help us much, but I'm sure Karen has the number if you'd like it.

Sharona: We're not married, and if we ever get married, shoot me!

Monk: You know who you should never marry? The Elephant Man!

Sharona: I'd marry the Elephant Man before I married you!

Monk: I wanna make sure I understand this. I have a problem... you know the answer...

Dr. Charles Kroger: That's right.

Monk: I'm paying you...

Dr. Charles Kroger: That's right.

Monk: ...but you won't tell me.

Dr. Charles Kroger: That's right. Adrian, the answer is inside you.

Monk: No, doctor, the... answer is inside you. If you told me, I would hear it, and then the answer would be inside me!

Mr. Monk and the Very, Very Old Man

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Adrian Monk, have you studied the room?

Monk: Yes, I have.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Have you formed an opinion about the cause of Miles Holling's death?

Monk: Yes, I have.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: And what is your opinion, Adrian Monk?

Monk: He... was murdered. [into Stottlemeyer's cell phone] He was murdered, Karen.

Karen Stottlemeyer: I knew it!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Sweetheart? I'm gonna strangle Monk, and then I'll call you right back.

Monk: So what do you think?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, why ask me? My hippie wife's a much better cop than I am.

Monk: Don't say that.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Look, I don't mind living in your shadow, Monk; you're a freak of nature.

Monk: Thank you.

[Monk jumps on top of the dining table to avoid a snake.]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I thought you were afraid of heights.

Monk: Snakes trump heights. It goes: germs, needles, milk, death, snakes, mushrooms, heights, crowds, elevators...

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Okay, okay — I don't need the entire list.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You win. I give up.

Monk: Excuse me?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You know what I'm gonna do? First thing in the morning, I'm going to call the Vatican, and I'm gonna nominate your late wife, Trudy, for sainthood! Because *you* are IMPOSSIBLE!

Monk: The lines. They're all... diagonal! I have to live here!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: FORGET ABOUT THE RUG! THIS IS NOT ABOUT THE RUG! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE?! Do you know what you are?! You're the world's best marriage counselor! You could save every marriage in California! All people would have to do is live with you for two days! Two days, and they'd never complain about their spouse again!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Monk, I'm going to say something I've wanted to say for a long time.

Monk: What is it?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I just solved the case.

Mr. Monk Goes to the Theater

Sharona: [watching Gail's performance] What do you think so far?

Monk: There’s no legroom. It’s so crowded.

Sharona: It’s supposed to be crowded. It’s sold out. You know, this play is going to New York. Can you believe it? My sister in an off-Broadway show?

Monk: So where is she?

Sharona: She’s in the next scene. She kills a guy.

Monk: I hope it’s the guy who designed these seats. [Gail enters]

Sharona: There she is. [From behind another door on stage, another actor, Hal Duncan, swings the door shut]

Hal Duncan: [as Bert] Hey, cuz. You miss me? [He picks up an apple and tosses it from hand to hand] Hope you don’t mind. I let myself in.

Gail Fleming: But you’re supposed to be in jail!

Hal Duncan: It’s funny that phrase, "supposed to be". I’m "supposed to be" in jail, you’re "supposed to be" waiting for me! [He makes air quotes with his fingers when saying "supposed to be"] A man can’t count on "supposed to be" the way he used to.

Gail Fleming: You know, my husband’s upstairs! If he hears you he’ll come down-

Hal Duncan: Your husband’s downtown drowning himself in scotch and soda! I saw him leave about an hour ago.

[Hal fusses with Gail’s blouse]

Gail Fleming: I’ve got some money in my purse! Why don’t you just take it and go?

Hal Duncan: You think I want your pocket change?! You think that’s why I came back?! [Hal overturns the table, spilling all of its contents on the stage. Gail screams and secretly pulls out a knife]

Hal Duncan: Who ordered the tossed salad? Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! I came back for what’s mine.

Gail Fleming: You know, if you don’t leave, I’ll—

Hal Duncan: You’ll what? Huh? You’ll do nothin’! [takes a bite of the apple he is holding] Like I said, I’m here for what’s mine! [Gail stabs Hal with the prop knife. Hal screams, and staggers across the stage, obviously having a seizure]

Gail Fleming: Hal, are you okay? [Hal falls on the floor and starts having convulsions] Hal? Hal?

[Monk inspects the propmaster's toolbox]

O’Dell: Excuse me. What are you doing?

Monk: Uh, I was just…nothing.

O’Dell: Hey, don’t fiddle with the props. I’ve got to know where these are in the dark, by touch, at a moment’s notice. I’ve been juggling props for forty-four years. Ask me about the first prop I ever bought.

Monk: What was the…

O’Dell: The sword Richard Burton used in Camelot. I had to go to Scotland to get it.

Monk: Really? Wow. I’m, uh, I’m Adrian Monk, and this is Sh—she’s usually right here. This is a terrible week. I’ll bet.

O’Dell: Hey, that wasn’t my fault. The cops had me under the lights all night long. I told them…I put the prop knife on the set. We use two knives on this show. A real one, and one like this: [O’Dell pulls out and stabs himself with a prop knife]

Monk: Hey, whoa! [The knife retracts; O’Dell laughs]

O’Dell: Don’t wet yourself. The blade retracts into the handle. Gail must have switched the gag knife for the real one before the show.

Monk: May I? [He holds the prop knife up]

O’Dell: See? It doesn’t feel like a real knife at all, does it?

Monk: No.

O’Dell: She had to know she was holding a real knife. What happened onstage Sunday night, that was no accident. That was a woman scorned. “Hell hath no fury,” right?

Monk: And you’re sure you put a fake knife on the stage?

O’Dell: I swear. I put it there myself, half an hour before curtain.

Monk: And there was nobody else here?

O’Dell: Nope. Except Jenna. Jenna Ryan, Gail’s understudy. She was checking in. They check in before the show, see if anybody’s sick.

Monk: Speedy Dates? No. No, no. No, that's like... Dante's seventh circle of Hell.

Sharona: So, how'd the dating go?

Monk: Oh, it was terrible! Thank God I'm not single!

Sharona: You are single.

Monk: Oh, yeah.

[Monk is trying to use Sharona to reenact the crime scene, but Sharona is getting confused by Monk's directions]

Monk: You... you enter from the right...

Sharona: You mean the left. That's stage left.

Monk: But it's on the right.

Sharona: But it's stage left. That's what they call it.

[She shrugs at Monk's confusion.]

Sharona: My sister's an actress!

Monk: But- but- for the purposes of this recreation, let's just call it what they call it on Planet Earth.

Sharona: [sardonically] Like you would know.

Mr. Monk and the Sleeping Suspect

Sharona: Is that a new tie?

Lt. Disher: It's a gift from my girlfriend.

Sharona: She has very good taste. In ties, not in men.

Lt. Disher: Ooh — do I detect a hint of jealousy?

Sharona: If you do, it's the only detecting you've ever done.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Adrian Monk, old buddy, old pal, old chum.

Sharona: “Old buddy”? What have you done with the real Captain Stottlemeyer?

Monk: What do we have?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Mail bomb. An ounce and a half of plastique with a magnesium charge.

Lt. Disher: There were two triggers: a chemical detonator wired to the wrapping, and a motion detector—so when you opened it and moved it, "boom".

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Not hard to make.

Lt. Disher: Crude and unpredictable, actually.

Monk: Who’s the victim?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Amanda Babbage, thirty-five years old. She lived here alone.

Monk: Nice house.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: It was a lot nicer two hours ago.

Monk: [notices the ATF agents] The Feds are here?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yes, up the wazoo -- Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms. They’re in charge, and they’re not shy about saying so. Monk, if you can make me look good here, I would really appreciate it. I’d love to show these bastards up. Wouldn’t hurt our careers either.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What do you see?

Monk: [on Ricky] Oh, he’s not the guy. He definitely knew his sister lived here. He was at a barbecue here two weeks ago.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: But the package was mailed to the old address.

Monk: Right, and he said he tied the surfboard to the room himself. Look at these knots. They’re a mess. Crude, tangled, but the knot we saw inside on the bomb, was a work of art.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: So the feds—

Monk: Are barking up the wrong tree. You said there was another brother.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah, Brian, but he’s a dead end.

Lt. Disher: Or practically dead.

Sharona: What do you mean?

Lt. Disher: The guy’s in a coma.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: We saw it happen. Four months ago, he got t-boned by a pickup truck. Cracked his skull. It was really unnecessary. The guy just baited me and Randy and—and stepped on the gas.

Lt. Disher: It was my first car chase.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: That didn’t count. The guy didn’t go half a block. You didn’t get the car in gear!

Lt. Disher: It counted.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: It wasn’t a chase, Randy.

Lt. Disher: We ran to the car.

Monk: Anyway, uh…four months ago. So, he wouldn’t have known that his sister had moved.

Lt. Disher: [to Sharona] It counted.

Monk: I’d like to meet him.

[Monk thinks that comatose Brian Babbage is the killer]

Monk: He's the guy.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Who? [Monk indicates comatose Brian] Him? Monk, he's a vegetable! He's not even a vegetable! He hopes to one day be a vegetable!

[Agent Grooms kicks Stottlemeyer out of the interrogation room]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I just got kicked out of my own interrogation room.

Lt. Disher: You want some coffee, sir?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, Randy. What I want is for that A.T.F. creep to eat crow!

Monk: Well, we know who did it, and we know why. We just don’t know how.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Monk, again, he’s in a coma.

Monk: He’s the guy.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: In twenty seconds, Agent Grooms is gonna come walking through that door, and he’s gonna ask me what I think. Give me something else, for the love of God.

Lt. Disher: Okay, wait. I have an idea. Maybe he had an accomplice.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yes, somebody else mailed the damn thing. Why not?

Sharona: I already had that idea. Tell him.

Monk: There was no accomplice. Why would Brian Babbage hire one? He didn’t know he was gonna be in a coma.

Sharona: It’s not exactly something you can plan.

Monk: All right. Anyway, why would an accomplice bother to go through with it? There was no reason to. The guy who hired him was in a coma.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: All right, so... Brian built the bomb, and then Brian mailed the bomb, by himself.

Monk: That's right.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: While he was in a coma.

Monk: [admiringly] You gotta admit — it's a pretty good alibi. It's rock solid!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Monk, I have known 15,000 criminals in my lifetime. Here's what they all have in common: they're conscious!

Monk: Nonetheless.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Is your shrink coming back soon?

Mr. Monk Meets the Playboy

Capt. Stottlemeyer: That assistant, she called you?

Sharona: Mm-hmm. Diane Luden.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah, I gave her your name. I figured you’d collect a nice payday after you convinced her she was crazy.

Monk: Actually, I think she might be on to something.

Sharona: We’d like to look at the official file.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Look, there is no D’Souza case. It was an accident. The barbell slipped, crushed his trachea.

Lt. Disher: He was alone in his apartment on the thirty-fifth floor.

Monk: I know.

Lt. Disher: There was only one way up. It was a private elevator. Nobody else used it.

Monk: I know.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: The apartment was locked from the inside.

Monk: I know.

Sharona: Are you gonna be cooperating on this or not?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: If you two wanna go tilting at windmills, be my guests. But this time, Monk, you’re on your own.

Monk: Okay, forget it. Let’s go. What’s our first stop?

Sharona: Sapphire Mansion. We have an appointment. [This gets Randy's attention]

Lt. Disher: Sapphire Mansion? You have an appointment?

Monk: Yes. Elliot D’Souza controlled that magazine. He was about to pull the plug on Dexter Larsen. I think Larsen might be involved.

Lt. Disher: Saphhire Mansion. I’ve never been. Have you ever been?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Once. Ten years ago.

Sharona: Did your wife find out?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah, I told her. In therapy, we were playing the honesty game.

Lt. Disher: Red Roof Inn?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yup. This was before they built the new lobby.

Lt. Disher: You know, Captain. I think Monk might be on to something. Maybe we should tag along.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Lieutenant, I think you might be right.

Sharona: Oh, God.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Hey, I’m married. I’m not dead.

Sharona: Ugh.

Monk: [in Dexter Larsen's room] That's strange. Why would he need a mirror on the ceiling?

Sharona: Try not to think about that now.

Dexter Larsen: [about his life before publishing Sapphire] I was a nerd, publishing my little electronics magazine. I was the kind of guy a woman like you would never talk to.

Sharona: You still are.

[Monk is searching a car when Dexter Larsen spots him]

Dexter Larsen: Detective, caddie, car thief. You wear many hats, Mr. Monk. You, uh…you looking for something?

Monk: Did you drive this car, Mr. Larsen? Maybe Sunday morning?

Dexter Larsen: Why would you think that?

Monk: Somebody was smoking a cigar in here.

Dexter Larsen: Well, a lot of people smoke cigars, Mr. Monk.

Monk: Right, but the texture and size of this cigar ash are consistent with those from your precious Cubano de Oros.

Dexter Larsen: Hmmm.

Monk: How did you do it?

Dexter Larsen: You mean how did I, uh, rise from humble beginnings to achieve all of this?

Monk: No, no. I mean. How did you murder Elliot D’Souza?

Dexter Larsen: What are you talking about? There was no murder. Elliot was alone. The door was locked.

Monk: Right. How did you do it?

Dexter Larsen: You’ve taken a great interest in me, and the truth is I’ve taken an interest on you too, and your friend Sharona. May I show you something? [produces a photograph from an envelope] My research staff is first rate. She must have been nineteen, maybe twenty. You know what? Th…that’s…that’s my favorite age. Hungry with no inhibitions. These were taken in Atlantic City. She was using a different name, but my lawyers assure me that the release that she signed is solid. I can publish them anytime I want.

Monk: What kind of man are you?

Dexter Larsen: I told you on the golf course, Mr. Monk. I do not lose. Now Sharona, she has a son, how old is he now?

Monk: He is twelve.

Dexter Larsen: Twelve. That’s an impressionable age. I think we understand each other, don’t we? Any more questions about what happened to Elliott?

Monk: No.

Dexter Larsen: You can let yourself out.

[Dexter finds the police at his house; Stottlemeyer, Monk and Sharona are waiting for him in his dining room]

Dexter Larsen: What the hell is going on? [Stottlemeyer gives him a search warrant]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Dexter Larsen, that’s a warrant, duly sworn, authorizing us to search your house.

Woman: Dex, I tried to call you. They’ve been here an hour. They’ve been looking everywhere!

Dexter Larsen: Looking for what?

Monk: Looking... for proof that you killed Elliot D’Souza.

Dexter Larsen: Mr. Monk, are you serious? [notices that his Carvasia is lying on the dining room table] My Carvasia. I told you not to touch that!

Monk: Sorry, I’ll get it. [He starts to grab for it]

Dexter Larsen:' No! No! Don’t touch it. I’ll do it. It’s very valuable. [He tries to pick it up off the table, but it doesn't budge; Sharona stares at Dexter oddly]

Sharona: Is there a problem?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What’s wrong? Pick it up. Can’t weigh more than fifteen pounds.

Dexter Larsen: All right. What did you do? Did you glue it down?

Monk:' Excuse me, if I may. [He picks it up with ease] No, not glued. Your turn. [Dexter tries to pick it up again, but it is stuck to the table] We found it, Dexter.

Dexter Larsen: Found what?

Sharona: The magnet that you built. [Stottlemeyer moves aside a dining table chair, revealing that Randy is holding a large magnet to the underside of the table]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Randy, you can come out now, unless you’re enjoying yourself down there. [Randy gets up, carrying the large magnet with him]

Dexter Larsen: What’s this supposed to be?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What, you don’t recognize that? We found it in your workshop. It had fingerprints all over it. [to Monk] Go ahead.

Mr. Monk and the 12th Man

Mrs. Ling: You come back anytime, Mr. Babcock. You good customer, 'cause you don't complain.

Lt. Disher: Ma'am, he just killed eleven people.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Twelve. Let's not forget about the first Mrs. Babcock, who I'll bet is buried under that new porch.

Mrs. Ling: Yeah, well... he still good customer. Not crazy like that Mr. Monk over there.

[Monk and Sharona talk to handyman Ian Agnew about his lawsuit against the Babcocks]

Monk: Thank you for seeing us.

Ian Agnew: Oh, I don't mind. I don't get many visitors. So what can I do for you?

Monk: Mr. Agnew, we were wondering about your accident.

Ian Agnew: Please, sit down. [he appears to have a rather sudden pained reaction, possibly from the pipe]

Sharona: [concerned] Ian, I used to be a nurse. Is there anything I can do?

Ian Agnew: No, thank you. Comes and goes. It's the pipe. [points to the protruding piece of metal pipe] I have a piece of pipe in my head. [pauses] I don't get many visitors! Please sit! Sit! Sit! Sit! Sit! Sit! Sit! Sit! Sit! Sit! Sit!...

Monk: Sir, about your accident.

Ian Agnew: Ah, the accident. I really don't remember much about it. We were building a cabana near the pool for the Babcocks. And I was working on the roof and there was a tile loose. And the next thing I knew, I woke up and I was a human smokestack. [laughs] I'll get it! [picks up the phone] Hello! Hello! Must be the wrong number. [to Monk and Sharona] HOW'S THAT COFFEE? [shouts at an empty spot on the floor] BAD DOG!

[He turns back to Monk and Sharona]

Ian Agnew: I haven't worked since.

Monk: Huh. How did you get the job?

Ian Agnew: Mrs. Babcock hired me. Although by the time I had started, she wasn't there anymore. They split up, she ran off, I never got the full story. I dealt mostly with her husband, Stew. I'll get it. [He picks up the phone again, about to talk to another imaginary caller] You know, I just changed my phone number, and it doesn't seem to help. I don't get many visitors!

Sharona: Did you go to the trial?

Ian Agnew: I testified.

Sharona: Did you spend any time with the jury?

Ian Agnew: No, ma'am. I wish I had. I wanted to thank them, they were very generous. I don't get many visitors! [singing] Daisy, Daisy, tell me your answer true! [turns back to the empty spot on the floor] BAD DOG! [then back to Monk and Sharona]

Ian Agnew: You know what I think I miss the most? [points to the pipe] Not having this pipe in my head. I have to take this. [picks up the phone again]

Ian Agnew: Hello. Hello.

Sharona: [to Monk] I believe you're not the craziest man in the world.

Ian Agnew: [talking to the imaginary caller] How did you get this number?

Monk: We'll let ourselves out.

Ian Agnew: Tell me who this is right now! [Monk and Sharona walk out] Well I don't believe that for a minute!

[Monk and Sharona have arrived at the toll plaza]

Monk: Handcuffed?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Handcuffed to one wrist and tied to seventy-feet of rope.

Monk: Ugh, God!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: And then he was dragged west seven-tenths of a mile. I just saw the body. Or what’s left of it.

Sharona: Oh, God.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: The M.E. said he’s never seen anything like it. There’s no end to it.

Monk: What do you mean?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I mean, this is number nine. Nine bizarre murders in the past two weeks. Every time my beeper goes off, my heart skips a beat.

Monk: Are they connected?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No. No connection at all. I mean, four have been men, five women, all different ages. Latino, white, black.

Monk: And the M.O.’s?

Capt. Stottlemeyer:' All different. There’s been a couple of shootings, different weapons, a hit-and-run, a drowning, an electrocution. I mean, it’s, it’s like a full moon every night!

Monk: And you’re sure that the cases have absolutely nothing in common?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, they have one thing in common, Monk. We can’t solve them. I swear, there’s something in the water.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [noticing that the officers have all gathered around Sharona] Hey! Hey, guys. What is this, a high school dance? Give the girl some room. Let her breathe. [Sharona comes over] Come here. I want to talk to you. I understand that you are seeing Kenny Shale.

Sharona: Oh, it’s nothing serious.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yes, it is. I wanna tell you something, Sharona. Your life is about to change. Everybody you know is gonna want a piece of you. You’re not gonna know who to trust. Monk can’t help you with this, all right?

Sharona: Mmm-hmm.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: He’s, he’s brilliant, but he’s Monk. He’s lost in Monkland.

Sharona: Mmm-hmm.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Now, I’ve been where you are. I’ve been in the spotlight. And, well here. I want you to take that. [hands Sharona a card]

Sharona: What is it?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: That’s my cell phone number, okay? You call me 24/7 if you need anything. Yeah, I just don’t want to see you get hurt.

Sharona: Oh, thanks a lot. Thanks.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah. Oh, I was thinking, um, maybe we could get together, do a double date kind of thing. Me and Karen, you and Kenny? I’ve always liked Kenny. Kenny, he’s—he’s a good guy. He’s good people.

Sharona: You called him a weasel!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, I didn't.

Sharona: Yeah, you did. Three weeks ago.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I never said "weasel." I said he was a... "woof." Oh, yeah, I said "weasel." I called him a weasel, but you see, that's not a bad thing. I had a weasel. A weasel is a noble animal, all right? It's a term of endearment. [to a passing cop] Jerry! Hey, how are you doing, you weasel? Good to see you! [turns back to Sharona] See, I call everybody a weasel.

Lt. Disher: Captain! [hands a file to Stottlemeyer] Washington just sent this down. It's a prelim psych profile. :[Stottlemeyer puts the file folder to his forehead]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Let me guess: the killer is between 30 and 45 years old, white male, does not work in an office, probably spent time in the military, and definitely hates his mother. [hands the file back to Randy]

Lt. Disher: How did you know that?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: 'Cause that's what they always say. That's scrap paper. [Monk is looking at a board of victims' photos] What about the ten dollar bills? Anything on them?

Lt. Disher: They’re from a bank in San Mateo, Wells Fargo, untraceable.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Of course they are. [addresses the other detectives] All right, everybody, listen up! Listen up! We’re not gonna find him flailing in the dark. Let’s communicate, keep each other briefed. We’re going dumpster diving. We’re gonna-[stops as he notices Randy putting up a sheet of paper on the crime board]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What are you doing? What is that?

Lt. Disher: I’m leaving a space for the next victim.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Take that down. Take it down! [Randy does so] There is no "next victim". We’re stopping the son of a bitch at ten.

Mr. Monk and the Paperboy

Monk: Why do you torture me like this?

Sharona: Because I can.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Listen to this: this is "News from Around the World," Paris, France. There is an unsolved murder; a woman was found strangled, and both of her hands were cut off.

Sharona: Oh my God!

Lt. Disher: That happens all the time: no fingerprints. Makes it harder to ID the body.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Now here's the thing: they found the hands. They were a couple of meters away from the body in the grass.

Monk: The killer cut off both hands, but then left them near the body?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah. She and her husband both worked as curators at the prison museum in the Bastille.

Monk: Prison museum?

[cuts to a Paris police prefecture. A police lieutenant comes into his captain's office]

Lieutenant Lafitte: [in French] Captain Dupres, there is a detective calling from America. He has solved the murder of Madame Beaudreau.

Captain Dupres: [in French] He solved it?

Lieutenant Lafitte: [in French] By reading a newspaper, from 9,000 kilometers away! [Dupres sighs and picks up the phone]

Captain Dupres: Captain Dupres, Prefecture de Police. [cuts to Monk's apartment]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Bonjour. Je m'appelle Captain Leland Stottlemeyer. Je--je travaille avec le...department de police de San Francisco. Uhhhh, parlez-vous...English? ["Hello, my name is Captain Leland Stottlemeyer. I work for the department of police of San Francisco. Do you speak English"]

Captain Dupres: I speak enough. What can I do for you?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Uh, hi, I've got a friend. His name is Adrian Monk.

Monk: [into the phone] Bonjour.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: He has a theory about an unsolved case of yours. Here, I'll put him on. [hands the phone to Monk] He speaks English well enough. [Monk wipes down the phone, pressing several of the other buttons]

Monk: Yes, yes, hello. I think I know who killed Madame Beaudreau.

Captain Dupres: [skeptically] Oui, Monsieur Monk, what is your theory?

Monk: I think her husband did it.

Captain Dupres: Well, we suspected him from the beginning. But why did he cut off her hands?

Monk: He must have used a pair of handcuffs from the museum to restrain her.

Captain Dupres: I do not follow you.

Monk: They were antique handcuffs, very distinctive, so they could easily have been traced back to him.

Captain Dupres: Mon Dieu...

Monk: He must have lost the key. So he was desperate, he had to get them off the body.

Captain Dupres: Well, that makes sense! Lafitte, why didn't I think of that? Monsieur Monk, you are a genius! Perhaps someday, you will come to Paris so I can thank you in person.

[Monk, Sharona, Stottlemeyer and Disher arrive at a body shop to arrest a businessman named Malcolm Cowley for a hit-and-run death]

Malcolm Cowley: Is there a problem?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I was reading about you in the newspaper. [Shows the copy of the paper to Cowley] That's you, isn't it? "It Just Wasn't His Day." It says here that you had two accidents in the course of ten minutes: first you hit a little tree, and then you drove another half a mile and hit a lamppost.

Malcolm Cowley: That's right. Is that a crime?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Uh, yeah, it is if you were intentionally damaging your car so you wouldn't have to explain a smashed-in grille. See, Mr. Monk found this other article. [turns to a front page article] "Hit-and-Run Driver Kills a Grandmother." Same neighborhood. Same approximate time. We thought there might be a connection.

Lt. Disher: [looking at Cowley's car's headlights] Captain. Blood.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Turn around. Put your hands on the car. [Cowley complies and Stottlemeyer handcuffs him] You sir, are under arrest, for vehicular manslaughter, leaving the scene of a crime, and for the murder of Nestor Alvarez. Come with me. :[He starts to lead Cowley away]

Monk: He's not the guy.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What? Monk, we've got him dead to rights.

Monk: He is guilty of the hit-and-run, but he didn't kill the paperboy. He didn't know who I was. There is something else in this newspaper, something I'm missing. [He drops the newspaper, disgusted, realizing that he has accidentally wiped his hands with a garage rag, smearing them with oil.] Oh, my God! Oh, the humanity!

[Disher walks into Stottlemeyer's office while Stottlemeyer does work on his laptop]

Lt. Disher: Captain, I have a thought. [Stottlemeyer doesn't look up, and waves his fingers] About paperboy. [Stottlemeyer continues gesturing with his fingers]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: This means "hurry up".

Lt. Disher: It was a burglary; the paperboy interrupted a B&E in progress. It fits: there were five break-ins on that block last year alone.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [stands up] Nope. I already looked into that. All of those break-ins were hot prowlers - forced entry with a crowbar.

Lt. Disher: Right.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Our guy was empty-handed.

Lt. Disher: What about a car thief?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, that doesn't explain the taking of the newspapers, doesn't it? [He puts on his overcoat]

Lt. Disher: Right. So we're back to Monk's theory?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I'm afraid so. [shows Randy the door] And this means "we're leaving".

[Monk, Sharona, Stottlemeyer and Disher are at the scene of the store clerk's death]

Monk: When did it happen?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: The M.E. is saying two and a half, three hours. He worked as the night manager at the Stop 'n Go on Ridgedale.

Sharona: Oh my God, we were just there! That's where we bought the newspaper. [to Randy] Along with your letter in it to me.

Lt. Disher: It wasn't to you!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: His shift ended at 4:00 AM, he came here to make the night deposit. He got jumped by the killer, stabbed twice: once in the neck, once in the stomach, with that bottle. [Monk looks at the remains of a bottle]

Monk: No prints on the bottle?

Lt. Disher: Nothing yet.

Monk: Surveillance camera?

Lt. Disher: Negative. It's over by the ATM, facing the wrong way. It didn't see a thing. [Stottlemeyer turns to Monk]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Now what I can't get over, is that we haven't had a homicide in this neighborhood for over four years, all of a sudden we've got two: first your newspaper boy, killed for a newspaper, and now this robbery.

Monk: No, this was no robbery.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: But the killer took the money.

Monk: The killer wants us to think robbery. But why wouldn't he do it in a more secluded spot? He could have killed him anywhere between here and the store.

Lt. Disher: Well maybe the killer just waited for him here by the bank.

Monk: No. No, the killer had to have followed the victim from the store. [points at the bottle] Cream soda bottle. You can't find that brand anywhere else.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well how do you know the victim wasn't drinking it? He worked at the Stop 'n Go.

Monk: That's true. [Sharona examines the bottle]

Sharona: It's a woman. There's lipstick on the bottle. [Monk and Stottlemeyer squat and see some lipstick towards the bottom of the bottle]

Monk: How did I miss that?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: She's stronger and smarter than you.

Mr. Monk and the Three Pies

Sharona: [answers phone] Hello? No, I'm Sharona, his assistant. Who's this? Hold on, please. [to Monk] Adrian? You have a brother?

[Everyone looks up, surprised. Long pause.]

Monk: No.

Sharona: [into phone] I'm sorry, sir, you must have the wrong Adrian Monk.

[She hangs up. Immediately, the phone starts ringing again.]

Monk: Wait, wait... I might have a brother.

Sharona: You told me you were an only child.

Monk: I consider myself an only child. We're not close! He has issues.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [raised eyebrow] Your brother has issues?

Monk: Don't you people have work to do?! There's a dead woman over there!

Sharona: Ambrose, come with us.

Ambrose Monk: Outside? Oh no, I can't.

Sharona: You're just gonna hide in this house for the rest of your life?

Ambrose Monk: That's my plan, yes.

[Adrian introduces Sharona to Ambrose]

Monk: This is my assistant, Sharona.

Ambrose Monk: Hello, we spoke on the phone.

Monk: Oh, so you can dial a telephone! I was worried. I thought you might be paralyzed, or something.

Ambrose Monk: I wasn't paralyzed.

Monk: I was being sarcastic.

Ambrose Monk: You were being sardonic. Sarcasm is a contemptuous ironic statement. You were being mockingly derisive. That's sardonic.

[after meeting Ambrose, Sharona hugs Adrian]

Monk: What's that for?

Sharona: For making my family seem normal.

Monk: He [van Ranken] was at the park all last night.

Sharona: Maybe to bury something.

Ambrose Monk: Yes, he was parked by the southern entrance.

Sharona: How do you know that?

Ambrose Monk: It's obvious. Why don't you tell her, Adrian?

Monk: Um...

Ambrose Monk: The yellow acorns on his truck, which can only mean he was parked under a spotted oak tree...

Sharona: Wow.

Ambrose Monk: Which are found...

Monk: Um...

Ambrose Monk: Near water...

Sharona: Wow.

Ambrose Monk: Which means, he parked by the river, at the southern entrance.

Sharona: Wow!

Monk: Please stop staying "wow."

Ambrose Monk: This detective stuff is easy.

Sharona: Looks like you got a new partner.

Monk: Yeah, for any crime committed within thirty feet of this property.

Mr. Monk and the T.V. Star

[Monk tries to recreate the murder of Susan Malloy, and has Sharona play the victim]

Sharona: I think you enjoy shooting and stabbing me.

Monk: No, I don't enjoy it. But it's my job.

[Monk solves the case]

Monk: Oh, my God. I think I know what happened here. Sharona, you're not going to like this. Just-just try to keep an open mind, hear me out...

Sharona: [sadly] He did it, didn't he?

Mr. Monk and the Missing Granny

[Stottlemeyer and Monk are interrogating Ron Abrash, a suspect in a kidnapping.]

Monk: You look familiar, Ronnie. Didn't I see you last week at the opera?

Ron Abrash: What have you been smokin', man?

Monk: I've been smokin' THE TRUTH, MAN!

Ron Abrash: What, are you guys playing? "Good cop, crazy cop?"

Granny Parlo: And--and it was raining.

Sharona: Are you sure? It wasn't raining all last week.

Granny Parlo: Listen, missy. I think I know what rain feels like. And that's what I felt when they carried me from the van into the house.

Lt. Disher: Okay, cool. It'll be the three of us. We can do good cop, bad cop, worse cop.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Randy, it's a two-man job. Just wait here.

Lt. Disher: Okay. I'll just wait here and--

Sharona: Weep openly.

Lt. Disher: --do some paperwork.

Sharona: While you weep openly.

[An old woman, actually Randy wearing a wig and some makeup, walks up to Monk and Sharona at the homeless shelter's serving counter]

Monk: Oh my God!

Sharona: [sees through the disguise] What are you supposed to be?

Lt. Disher: I'm undercover. I'm homeless.

Sharona: What's that on your face?

Lt. Disher: Dirt.

Sharona: [to Monk] Give the lady some gravy. [Monk does so].

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Okay, we've got two short hours until this phone call. Are we ready?

Phone Technician: Well we're all set, Captain. We've got two tape recorders and we've got the phone company online for an immediate track and trace.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: How long do we need?

Phone Technician: Well, if it's a landline, we've got 'em. If it's a cell phone...

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Which it will be.

Phone Technician: ...we'll need 45 seconds.

[Julie Parlo finds Stottlemeyer]

Julie Parlo: Excuse me, Captain Stottlemeyer?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yep.

Julie Parlo: Hi, I'm Julie Parlo. Uh, where is the FBI? This is a kidnapping. I happen to be a lawyer, so I know that in a kidnapping situation the FBI has jurisprudence.

Lt. Disher: That's only true if your grandmother's been taken across the state lines-

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Or if she's been held for more than 24 hours. And I think you meant to say "jurisdiction." What kind of lawyer are you?

Mr. Monk and the Captain's Wife

[Stottlemeyer prepares to lead a raid on the transportation union's headquarters]

Lt. Disher: Captain! That was Monk!

[everyone freezes]

Lt. Disher: He said he solved the case.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: He what?

Lt. Disher: He says it's not a union thing.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Is he sure?

Lt. Disher: He's Monk.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Did Adrian Monk just jump into a garbage truck?

Mr. Monk Gets Married

Sharona: Have you been drinking?

Lt. Disher: Yes, I have. I couldn't think of any other way to get all this Scotch into my body.

Sharona: Adrian, you have to sit. This is a picnic.

Monk: I - I don't sit on the ground. Animals do things on the ground - terrible, terrible things.

Sharona: We're never going to get away with this! They're never going to believe we're really married.

Monk: We have nothing in common. I annoy you all the time. Why wouldn't they believe it?

Monk: I can't sleep with a crooked shelf in the room.

Sharona: Well, when you turn the light off you won't see it.

Monk: I wish you could hear yourself sometimes! You live in a dream world.

Mr. Monk Goes to Jail

[Two officers discuss an inmate who will be executed soon]

Warden Christie: Where's Ray Kaspo?

Guard: In the holding cell, having his last meal. Ribs and chili.

Warden Christie: Ribs and chili? That might kill him before we do.

---

Monk: It seems prison agrees with you, Dale.

Dale "The Whale" Biederbeck: Well, why wouldn't it? After all, [indicates his stomach] I've been inside this prison all my life.

Monk: That's very poetic.

Dale "The Whale" Biederbeck: Of course, it doesn't compare with the prison you built for yourself.

---

Dale "The Whale" Biederbeck: I want to make you an offer...

Sharona: Oh please, drop dead!

Dale "The Whale" Biederbeck: Well, you'd think I would have by now, wouldn't you? [laughs].

---

[while pretending to be a convict, Monk tapes a picture of Trudy to his cell wall]

Spyder Rudner: Is that your old lady?

Monk: Yes.

Spyder Rudner: Is she waiting for you?

Monk: Yes, she is.

---

Spyder Rudner: All right, Adolf, let him go!

Lody: It's not about you, Spyder!

Spyder Rudner: The guy's a friend of mine.

Lody: He's a cop!

Spyder Rudner: Yeah, so I've heard. Let him go.

Lody: You'd side with a cop over us?

Spyder Rudner: I'd side with a cucaracha over you.

Mr. Monk Takes Manhattan

[The federal authorities are refusing access to Warrick Tennyson]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: How long does he have?

Capt. Walter Cage: Two, three days. He's being deposed in connection with that federal racketeering case, and they're afraid they're gonna lose him before they get what they need. They're not letting anybody else near him.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You gave me your word.

Capt. Walter Cage: Come on, I didn't lie to you! If we close the ambassador case...

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Look, I don't care about the frigging ambassador! He means less than zero to me, okay? My friend's wife got blown up! You understand? And it killed him, too! In a way. [silence]

Capt. Walter Cage: If we close this case, we can call the press, we can call City Hall, we're gonna have juice. Come on, you know how this works! They won't dare say no to us. Captain, it's not just your best shot. It's your only shot.

[Monk accidentally gets pushed onto a departing subway train]

Sharona: Sir, sir! You've got to stop that train, he's all alone-!

Subway Cop: All right, ma'am, just calm down. It happens all the time. [lifts his radio] What's his name?

Sharona: Adrian Monk.

Subway Cop: And how old is he?

Sharona: He's forty-five.

Monk: You... it was you. You filthy, disgusting animal! YOU MAKE ME SICK!

[confused, everyone turns to look]

Busboy: Me?

Sharona: What are you doing? He's a busboy!

Monk: Sharona, don't you recognize him? From the subway! He's the Urinator! Urinator! It was you! Don't try to deny it-

Stottlemeyer: Monk...

Monk: We saw what you did-!

Stottlemeyer: Monk! Could we get back to the quadruple homicide, please?

[Monk and Sharona are in a diner where Monk wants to use his one pair of handcuffs to arrest someone who urinated in public earlier.]

Sharona: That man took a whiz in the subway. That man [gestures to Steven Leight] killed four people in cold blood. Now who do you think we should arrest? [Monk thinks it over]

Monk: [hesitantly] The murderer.

[Sharona, Stottlemeyer and Disher have lost track of Monk after getting out of their cab]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Where is he?

Masul the Cabbie: Who?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: The guy in the front seat, where is he?

Masul the Cabbie: The nut?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah, the nut! Where'd he go?

Masul the Cabbie: What is he complaining about? My taxi is very clean! Why is he wiping, wiping, wiping everything?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Sir, your taxi is perfect! But where did he go?

Masul the Cabbie: Look, I don't care! I never pick him up again! I see him again, I keep driving! I don't care if I lose my license! You tell him, I'll keep driving!

Mr. Monk and the Panic Room

[Monk is patching up Benjy after he got into a fight at school.]

Monk: What's a wedgie?

Benjy: It's when you pull a kid's underwear all the way out of his pants.

Monk: When I was a kid they called it something else.

Benjy: What?

Monk: An "Adrian".

Sharona: Now Benjy, you're grounded! That means no TV, and no Playstation!

Benjy: Mom!

Monk: Sharona, he was just sticking up for a friend.

Sharona: Adrian, you stay out of this! You're not his father!

Monk: That's true, but I care about him as much as any father.

[He rips off the Band-Aid again.]

Benjy: OW!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: They call it a panic room. I know that's a difficult concept because for you every room is a panic room.

Monk: Thank you.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: If there's an intruder in the house, you run in there, you lock the door and wait for the cavalry.

[Stottlemeyer and Disher arrive at Sharona's house]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I hate this.

Lt. Disher: Why don't you stay back, sir? I can handle this.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Oh, you can? Since when? [Sharona opens the door]

Sharona: Hey.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Sharona, we need to talk.

Sharona: About what?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I think you know. [They walk into the house, which looks like it has been hit by an earthquake] What happened here? Did you have a party?

Sharona: It's Benjy. He never picks anything up.

Lt. Disher: Sharona, where's Darwin?

Sharona: What are you talking about?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: We're gonna find him. Is he here?

[Randy takes out his gun and begins going from room to room]

Sharona: Hey, would you put that away?! This is my house!

Lt. Disher: He's killed before.

Sharona: No he hasn't!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Sharona, we know that you took him. Now either you tell us where he is or I'm going to have to take you in. That is the law.

Lt. Disher: [walks back out of the living room, speaking into his walkie-talkie] Living room secure, heading to the kitchen.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Randy, you don't have to use the walkie-talkie. I'm ten feet away.

Lt. Disher: Roger that.

[puts down the walkie-talkie and continues searching]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [notices some vomit on a wall, and a lot of crooked pictures] Hey, what happened here?

Sharona: Benjy threw up.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [incredulously] On the wall?

Sharona: It was pretty awful.

Lt. Randall Disher: [heads into the kitchen, and opens the closet, which swings open to reveal a stuffed teddy bear] Monkey! Monkey! Monkey! False alarm! False alarm!

[Sharona grabs the teddy bear from Randy]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Sharona, you were seen. The animal shelter has a surveillance camera. It recorded your car's license plate number as you drove away.

[Dr. Kroger is at Monk's apartment because Sharona left Darwin loose with Monk.]

Dr. Charles Kroger: I can see your space has been violated, and I think you're handling it very well. I'm proud of you. How do you feel?

Monk: [high-pitched voice] I'm fine. These things happen, what can you do?

Dr. Charles Kroger: Exactly, exactly. These are all just material objects. You can always replace anything that he breaks, or chews, or... [sees] pees on.

Monk: Chews or pees on... Chews or pees on...

Mr. Monk and the Blackout

Michelle Rivas: Gene, what are you doing up there?

Gene Edelson: What am I doing? I am checking the auxillary generator.

Michelle Rivas: Well there's a reporter looking for you.

Gene Edelson: Well you're the company mouth. You talk to them. It's not my job. [spots Monk tapping one of the gauges on an instrument panel] Excuse me! Uh, do you see the sign? [Monk notices the "DO NOT TOUCH" sign over the gauge]

Monk: Ah, no problem. I got it. [He straightens it a few centimeters. Michelle chuckles]

Michelle Rivas: I've been dying to do that for six months. [Stottlemeyer and Disher return]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Hey Monk, we've got the prelim on the explosives. [Monk joins them to examine the remnants of the bomb] We think... four to five pounds of a high density plastique with a magnesium charge. It was detonated with an egg timer.

Monk: You mentioned the letters. Is that the letter?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah, three pages, taped to the back door outside. [Monk looks over Randy's shoulder to see the note]

Lt. Disher: Yeah it's a basic environmental laundry list: solar power, fossil fuels, Saudi Arabia, "it's the only planet we have."

Monk: [reading] "We are free men... unshackled by your barbarous laws." I know that phrase. I've heard that before. "Unshackled." "Barbarous laws." [He thinks for a few seconds] Ten years ago, that exact same phrase was in a letter, written by a guy named Winston... No yes, Winston Brenner. Trudy wrote an article about him.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I remember that guy. He was a serious radicalist in Boston. He blew up a recruiting station; a couple of soldiers got killed.

Lt. Disher: Looks like he just came out of retirement.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Let's check him out.

Lt. Disher: Captain! [Stottlemeyer walks out to Randy's desk] Monk was right. And you're right too sir, about Monk being right. Check this out. Good work.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What have you got, Randy?

Lt. Disher: [hands a file to Stottlemeyer] Winston Brenner. He was an activist in the 90s. He was indicted in a series of bombings in Boston. Pretty angry individual. [grabs evidence bags with two different notes; he holds up the left one first] Here, look at this. This is the note from the power plant. [holds up the one in his right hand] This one is from 11 years ago. He uses a lot of the same phrases: "The blood I shed today."/"The blood I shed today." "The price of absolute freedom."/"The price of absolute freedom." And check this out. The handwriting is identical. This is definitely the guy. The only thing is, is that back then, Brenner didn't really care about the environment. Anti-military was his thing.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Did you read the rest of the file, Randy? [Randy produces surveillance photos]

Lt. Disher: We've got some pictures too. They're blurry, but good.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Read the rest of the file, Randy.

Lt. Disher: Which part?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: The part here where it says that he died: "Deceased, 1995." Blew himself up before the trial.

Lt. Disher: He's dead.

Alby Drake: [protesting in a tree] No I'm not being reasonable, I'm sick and tired of being reasonable. I'm not coming down until you agree to build your stupid condos somewhere else!

[Monk and Sharona arrive]

Sharona: Did you call Michelle?

Monk: No.

Sharona: Did you think about it?

Monk: No.

Sharona: Did you think about thinking about it?

Monk: Sharona, I'm a married man.

Sharona: Captain, Lieutenant.

Lt. Disher: Sharona, Monk.

Sharona: What's going on?

Lt. Disher: Tree hugger.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: His name is Alby Drake. He was Winston Brenner's oldest friend; they were roommates at MIT.

Monk: How long has he been up there?

Construction Foreman: Ten days. He'll be down soon. The judge will be ordering an eviction notice by tomorrow morning.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: The FBI, in their infinite wisdom, now agrees that Winston Brenner may have faked his own death back in 1995. If Brenner is still alive, [points a bullhorn up at Drake] that scruffy bird up there might still be in contact with him.

Sharona: How does he go to the bathroom? [Almost immediately, everyone except for Randy steps back].

[Monk has a date with Michelle Rivas]

Sharona: Are you excited?

Monk: Yes... if by excited, you mean petrified and full of regret.

Sharona: "Petrified and full of regret". Welcome to the world of dating.

Monk: Captain!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Monk. Sharona. I'm sure you've noticed by now that there used to be a big tree standing right over there.

Monk: What time?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: 4:35 AM. A security guard heard somebody start up the bulldozer. Moments later, ch-ch-ch, "Timber!" Drake was dead on impact.

Lt. Disher: He made a phone call though at around midnight.

Monk: To a payphone, right?

Lt. Disher: You guessed it: Palo Alto.

Sharona: Oh, well it had to be to Brenner. He's the guy.

Monk: So not only is Winston Brenner alive and well, he's making sure that his old pals don't rat him out.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: That's right. The FBI's calling at Palo Alto tonight. They want to compare notes; synchronize watches.

Monk: Ouch, whoa-whoa, I-I can't make it.

Sharona: He has a date.

Monk: That used to be my nickname, Mr. Punctuality.

Michelle Rivas: In college?

Monk: Kindergarten.

[Stottlemeyer and Disher burst in and point their guns at Winston Brenner]

Monk: Lieutenant, these are night-vision goggles! Turn the lights back off, I'll have the advantage! Turn them off!

Lt. Disher: Yeah, we could do that... or we could just arrest him.

Mr. Monk Gets Fired

[Sharona is confused about Monk's near-catatonia after he lands a magazine job on his first interview.]

Sharona: What's the problem? It's a great job!

Monk: I had a great job. I-I was a cop, that's all I ever wanted to be. I couldn't fix the whole world, I knew that. But I could fix... little pieces of it, one little piece at a time. Put things back together. Sharona, I-I need it. I miss it, I-I miss it so much...

Sharona: Hey, hey. I miss it too.

Monk: I solved the case!

Sharona: What are you doing?

Monk: I'm dancing a jig!

Sharona: That's not a jig.

Monk: What is it, then?

Sharona: I don't know, I don't want to know.

Monk: I'm back, baby!

Sharona: 74 percent is good enough for me! [tackles the Commissioner and wrestles to grab his toupee].

[Randy has given Stottlemeyer an update on an arson fire]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What did the fire marshal have to say?

Lt. Disher: Two points of origin. And the test for artificial accelerant came back negative. Uh, positive. [turns to Karen's camera] Could I--should I go back and do it again?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No. Now the question is... why would anybody torch a wig factory?

Lt. Disher: Probably the owner, for the insurance. [pause]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah that's an interesting theory, Randy, but um... the guy's dead, right? He died in the fire.

Mr. Monk Meets the Godfather

[Sharona has her car in the shop for repairs.]

Monk: Tell him about that noise your radio keeps making.

Sharona: That's my music.

[FBI agent Colmes wants Monk to wear a wire into a meeting with mob kingpin Salvatore Lucarelli]

Monk: Okay, okay. Here's the thing: I can't have anything taped to my chest.

Agent Colmes: Ah, that's fine. Come here, I'll... let me show you this. Ah, you see, these days... [pulls out a piece of paper] We can put a transmitter just about anywhere on the human body. You have six options.

[Monk and Sharona examine the list, with Disher and Stottlemeyer looking over their shoulders.]

Monk: Number One... is out. Number Two... uh, you-you wouldn't actually shave me there, would you? [Colmes nods.] Okay... no thank you. Number Three...

Sharona: What if you had to sit down?

Monk: Right. Good point. Number Four... [slowly looks up at Colmes, then turns to Sharona] Even if I die, don't let them do Number Four.

Lt. Disher: Number Five.

Monk: I'll do... okay. I'll do it. I'll try that.

Sharona: That's only for women!

Lt. Disher: Oh! Right.

Monk: Oh, yeah. Ah, Number Six... Number Six. I'll... I can do that.

Agent Colmes: Number Six? Great.

Monk: Not Four.

[Monk gets a confession from the real culprit, but discovers the wire wasn't working.]

Monk: Maybe we can trick him into... saying it again.

Agent Colmes: Oh, really? How're we gonna do that?

Monk: Well, I'll just go back there, sit down, and say... "What?"

[Colmes refuses to support Monk's reinstatement since their sting didn't turn up any evidence against Salvatore.]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Let me tell you something. Adrian Monk may be afraid of germs, heights, elevators, and puppies... but you couldn't pack that man's lunch.

Agent Colmes: Ah, that's true. I've seen that man pack a lunch. He's insane.

[Stottlemeyer and Disher find Monk and Sharona at the FBI's post]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Hey! I showed them my ID downstairs. I just got to talk to my friend! What, you reaching for your gun? If you're reaching for your gun, you'd better pull it. Stand aside. [to Monk] Monk. [to Colmes] Colmes! Whaddaya think you're doing?!

Agent Colmes: This is a federal operation, Captain. You have no business being here.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, neither does he! What's going on?

Sharona: They want Adrian to go undercover in the Lucarelli family. [Randy looks at a surveillance photo of Sharona speaking with Fat Tony outside Salvatore's restaurant]

Lt. Disher: What's up with this picture of you and Fat Tony?

Sharona: Nothing! And don't call him that!

Lt. Disher: What? Are you defending him?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Why don't you start by telling them what happened to the last agent that tried to infiltrate the family? Oh, start by telling them where we found the body buried!

Sharona: Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait. Buried?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Actually the parts that they found.

Agent Colmes: Okay, that's a different situation. That agent's cover was blown. Monk's been invited in. They already know that he's a cop.

Mr. Monk and the Girl Who Cried Wolf

[Sharona thinks she is losing her sanity like her father, and believes it's due to the stress of taking care of Monk.]

Sharona: I swear to God, if I have a breakdown, I'll never forgive him.

Dr. Kroger: Your father?

Sharona: Adrian.

Varla Davis: [Picks up piece of paper] "List of Adrian Monk's fears and phobias." Hmm... "Germs, Needles, Snakes, Heights, Milk, Cr..." MILK? You're afraid of milk?! My three-year-old nephew isn't even afraid of milk!

Monk: You must be very proud of him.

Varla Davis: Why, for not being afraid of milk? That just means he's normal.

[Monk just explained to Varla Davis what the boot tip means.]

Monk: Wipe.

Varla Davis: Wipe what!?

Monk: I say wipe and you give me a wipe. That's how it works.

Varla Davis: Well you better get over "it" fast!

Mr. Monk and the Employee of the Month

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [about bubble wrap] Are you going to pop all of these?

Monk: No choice.

[Stottlemeyer picks up another side and starts popping it.]

Monk: You've gotta depress it with your thumb—

Capt Stottlemeyer: Monk, I know how to pop bubble wrap!

[He calls two more officers over]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Start popping these.

[They keep popping for a few seconds.]

Officer: Is there any reason why we're doing this?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Nope. Just keep popping.

Monk: Thanks. I really appreciate it.

Sharona: [in a "Mega-Mart" warehouse] Tired?

Lt. Disher: I was up all night with my girlfriend.

Sharona: Yeah, those imaginary girlfriends can be pretty wild.

Lt. Disher: She's not imaginary.

Sharona: [sarcastically] Really? What's her name?

Lt. Disher: Crystal.

Sharona: [sees box labeled "Crystal Glassware"] What's her last name? Glassware?

Lt. Disher: No, it's Smith.

Sharona: You have a picture?

[Disher takes a picture from his wallet and gives it to Sharona]

Sharona: Oh, she's pretty. [Turns over picture] Randy, this came with the wallet!

Lt. Disher: Yeah, I know. She's a wallet model.

Sharona: That's sad.

Lt. Disher: Sharona, she's one of the world's top five wallet models! Thank you very much.

[Monk is late for dinner]

Sharona: So where is he, anyway?

Joe Christie: Last I saw, he was putting away boxes in the shoe department.

Sharona: He's putting boxes away?

Joe Christie: [laughing] Yeah...

Sharona: Oh, God. Maybe we'd better go ahead and start ordering now, you know?

Joe Christie: [indicates the prize mug] What do you think?

Monk: I think Edna was killed over this mug.

Joe Christie: Really?

Monk: No.

Joe Christie: Well, maybe it's made out of gold and painted over.

Monk: Joe... [He taps the mug with his pen. It's obviously ceramic]

Joe Christie: Hey, you said try 300 theories until one fits.

Monk: I said that?

Joe Christie: Yeah. I remember everything you ever said, God help me.

[Monk and Christie look through Jenny's special privileges]

Monk: Tell me about the Lobster Barrel.

Joe Christie: It's a family place. It's noisy, there's a million kids. You wouldn't last five minutes. It's got a great all-you-can-eat buffet with seven different kinds of shrimp: jumbo shrimp, batter-dipped shrimp, tempura shrimp...

Monk: Okay, stop telling me about the Lobster Barrel.

Joe Christie: ...barbecued shrimp...

Monk: Stop.

Mr. Monk and the Game Show

[Lizzie Talvo is showing an old tape of a Treasure Chest game to her boss]

Roddy Lankman: Doesn't prove anything.

Lizzie Talvo: It proves everything and you know that! Do you wanna see it again?!

Roddy Lankman: No thanks, I hate watching myself on TV.

Lizzie Talvo: Roddy, why did you do it?

Roddy Lankman: You ever been in debt, Lizzie? And I mean real debt. It changes everything.

Lizzie Talvo: That's no excuse. [goes to her dining room with the VHS tape, which she puts into an envelope and addresses it to Dwight Ellison]

Roddy Lankman: What are you doing?

Lizzie Talvo: The right thing!

Roddy Lankman: Look, Lizzie, if this is your way of asking for a raise, it worked! Hey, how much do you want?

Lizzie Talvo: I don't want money, Roddy, I'm not you.

Roddy Lankman: All right, you don't want money. Whaddaya want?

Lizzie Talvo: I want to be able to sleep at night. I want to be able to be proud of the show the way I used to be!

[Before the show, Monk and Dwight talk to Val Birch while a crew member adjusts his outfit]

Dwight Ellison: Val Birch? This is my old friend Adrian Monk.

Val Birch: Adrian? Ooh, gym glass must have been hell with a name like that.

Monk: Yes, yes it was-

Val Birch: Are you nearly done or do you just like touching me?

Stagehand: Almost done.

Dwight Ellison: Adrian's here from San Francisco.

Val Birch: Oh, Frisco? God-awful town! I was there last year. It was foggy the whole week! When are they gonna do something about all that fog?

Monk: Well, I-I don't know. I'll make some calls.

Val Birch: I couldn't see a damn thing! Not even that, um, uh, golden bridge they've got.

Monk: The Golden Gate.

Val Birch: No, genius, the bridge.

Monk: Right, that's what they call it: the Golden Gate-

Val Birch: Okay, okay! Testing 1-2-3, we're done! [walks away]

Dwight Ellison: [to Monk] That idiot's won seven times in a row!

[Kevin and Monk are looking inside Val Birch's house, and are debating whether they can go in]

Kevin Dorfman: I know, I'll lean in.

Monk: What?

Kevin Dorfman: Yeah, you can lean anywhere you want to. It's in the Constitution.

Monk: I can't imagine what Constitution you're referring to.

[Monk and Kevin have been to Birch's house and Monk decides he has to get closer]

Monk: I have to get closer.

Kevin Dorfman: Closer? Yesterday, we were in the front row. You can't get much closer than that.

[cuts to another Treasure Chest show in the process of being taped]

Roddy Lankman: Please welcome to the show Adrian Monk! [Monk feverishly steps out, and uprights a gold goblet before taking his place at his podium] Welcome to the show, Adrian. [Kevin and Dwight are watching the show on the backstage monitors]

Kevin Dorfman: Mr. E, you are not going to regret this.

Roddy Lankman: [onstage] -Before we start, is there anybody you would like to say hello to?

Monk: Yes.

Roddy Lankman: Who'd that be?

Monk: Sharona. She's in New Jersey, visiting her mother.

Roddy Lankman: That's very nice. How long have you and Sharona been married?

Monk: No, no, no. Sharona is my nurse. I was married but my wife Trudy was killed by a car bomb. [cuts to backstage]

Stagehand: Did he just say "car bomb"?

Monk: [continuing] Which is why I've devoted my life to putting criminals behind bars.

[Monk's game enters the second round]

Roddy Lankman: Welcome back to Treasure Chest. My name is Roddy Lankman, and our reigning champ, Val Birch, is in the lead again with $3,000. In second place, Susan with $0, and Adrian, you're at -$1,000.

Monk: Well Roddy, I think my luck is about to change.

Roddy Lankman: Well there's only one way to find out: let's do Round 2 and dig for treasure. For $4,000, the bone that connects your knee to your ankle is the A) fibula, B) tibia- [Monk buzzes in]

Monk: B, Tibia.

Roddy Lankman: Uh, that is correct! [Applause is heard offstage; Birch scorches a glare at Monk] Next question: how many square yards in an acre? [Birch immediately buzzes in]

Val Birch: It's C.

Roddy Lankman: Uh, C is correct. It's 4,840 square yards.

Val Birch: Lucky guess.

Roddy Lankman: Lucky guess indeed. For $5,000- [Monk buzzes in]

Monk: D.

Roddy Lankman: Uh, D is correct. Another lucky guess. For $5,500, President McKinley was assassinated in-[Monk presses his buzzer several times]

Monk: D-D-D-D. The answer is D, Roddy.

Roddy Lankman: D is correct. The next question, who- [Monk buzzes in insistently]

Monk: B-B-B-B-B-B!

Roddy Lankman: "B" is correct, it's Jackson Brown. [Susan collapses on her podium] Susan, are you okay?

Susan: I-I just-it looked so much easier when I was watching at home!

Roddy Lankman: Yes it always looks easier at home. For $6,000- [Susan buzzes in]

Susan: C!

Roddy Lankman: No, C is not right. [Monk buzzes in]

Monk: A.

Roddy Lankman: 'A' is correct, "the wombat". And the last question for $6,000, what element- [Monk rings in]

Monk: D.

Roddy Lankman: D is correct. And that's the end of Round 2, a couple of really intelligent gentlemen here. Uh, that means Adrian Monk is the winner of Round 2! Val Birch, you're gonna have to sit this one out this time. [Tanya hands Roddy the first bonus round question] Adrian, you understand what happens in Round 2: you answer these five questions correctly, you not only win this game, but you win this great big pot of gold. [gestures to the table with the treasure chests] You know how we play our game, you have five questions. Let's see how you do. [reads from the first card] Adrian, who was the first president to win a Nobel Peace Prize? [SPOILER: the answer is Theodore Roosevelt]

Monk: Roddy, I understand I can phone a friend.

Roddy Lankman: [scoffs] You wanna phone a friend on the first question? Well, you're the boss. Tanya, let's bring him the phone. [Tanya grabs a treasure chest with the phone while Roddy addresses his viewers] For those of you just joining us for the first time, Adrian is going to call a friend to see if he can get some help on this very important bonus round question. [Tanya hands Monk the phone] All right, who would you like to call?

Monk: Well, Roddy, I would like to call him. [points to Val Birch]

Val Birch: Me? You want to call me? I don't think I'm at home! [laughs]

Roddy Lankman: Mr. Monk, what are you doing?

[up in the producer's booth, Kevin turns to Dwight]

Kevin Dorfman: Do you know what he's doing? Because I don't know what he's doing.

Monk: [onstage] I'm trying to prove that you are guilty of murder, Mr. Lankman, or at the very least, manslaughter. Lizzie Talvo, your personal assistant, discovered that you were cheating on the show. [Monk ignores the gasps of the horrified audience]

Roddy Lankman: Uh, can we go to a commercial break? [Dwight immediately turns to his associates]

Dwight Ellison: You do and you're fired.

Mr. Monk Takes His Medicine

[A biker, Dewey Albert, comes out of a store but finds a police officer and undercover cop waiting by his motorcycle]

Dewey Albert: Aw, man!

Officer Cooper: Hi Dewey. Did you miss me?

Dewey Albert: [to the undercover cop sitting on the bike] Come on, get off the bike. Arrest me, do whatever you want with me, just don't touch the bike!

Officer Cooper: You skipped out on your hearing yesterday; made our Captain very very angry.

Dewey Albert: Well you can tell Stottlemeyer he can kiss my ass.

Undercover Cop: You can tell him yourself; he'll be here any second.

Officer Cooper: Come on, you know the routine, put your hands on the car. [Dewey obeys and Cooper tries to handcuff him]

Dewey Albert: Have you guys got anything better to do?

[A car pulls up; the driver pulls a gun out of the glove compartment and aims it out the passenger's side window]

Dewey Albert: Get off my bike.

Undercover Cop: You know I think I'll take it for a ride.

Dewey Albert: Don't do that, hey. [he tries to move but Cooper restrains him. Stottlemeyer and Disher pull up in their own car]

Undercover Cop: What is this, a vintage Softtail? 80 incher? I've always wanted to ride one of these.

Lt. Disher: Hey Coop. This guy giving you any trouble? [A gunshot is heard and the driver's window on Stottlemeyer's unit shatters. The cops duck behind the patrol cars, shouting to each other as the gunman continues to fire at them and speeds away].

Sharona: I am your nurse! Why didn't you tell me?

Monk: Because I knew you'd bring me down! You're bringing the Monk down, man.

Monk: Hey, you know what they say: wherever the Monk is, it's Mardi Gras.

[Monk shows up at Marlene Highsmith's apartment, where Sharona is waiting]

Sharona: Is it you?

Monk: I think so. [touches a lamp]

Sharona: What happened to "the Monk"?

Monk: Trudy didn't like him.

[Monk and Sharona are speeding through the streets to stop Lester Highsmith]

Monk: A Stop sign is not a suggestion!!

Sharona: Yes it is!

[cuts to Lester and his accomplice loading money boxes into the back of their van. After finishing loading the money, Lester pulls a gun on the hostage guard]

Lester Highsmith: Sorry, Kelly, nothing personal. [Monk and Sharona come speeding into the industrial park. Lester and his partner look up as the car screeches to a stop]

Monk: Lester! Drop the gun!

Lester Highsmith: You? [starts to lower his gun, but stops] Is that a water pistol? [The barrel is dripping]

Monk: No. [pause] Maybe. [Lester starts to raise his gun again. Police cars begin to approach just behind Monk] It's... scalding! It's scalding hot water! Just drop it! [As an unmarked unit screeches to a stop, Stottlemeyer hangs out the door]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Lester, drop it!

Mr. Monk and the Red Herring

[Monk is interviewing candidates for his new assistant.]

Nurse #2: What would my hours be?

Monk: Nine A.M....

Nurse #2: Until...?

Monk: Until one...

Nurse #2: One P.M.?

Monk: Until one of us dies.

[Monk is investigating Natalie Teeger's house to figure what the two intruders who have broken into her house might have been after]

Monk: Is there money in the house?

Natalie: No.

Monk: What about the coffee can? Isn't that where you hide your money?

Natalie: How did you know that?

Monk: There's coffee grounds on the counter, indicating it's been opened recently. But you don't have a coffee maker.

Julie Teeger: [whispering] Wow, he's like Velma from Scooby-Doo!

[Monk, Stottlemeyer and Disher look at Natalie's fish]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: It's a goldfish.

Monk: Technically, it's a crimson marblefish.

Lt. Disher: Is it extinct?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: If it was extinct, we wouldn't be looking at it, would we?

[watching a somber parrot]

Natalie: What happened to him?

Monk: His wife died.

Pet Store Owner: That's right. We had a female in there with him, but she died about a year ago. How did you know that?

Natalie: Why not put another female in there with him?

Monk: Won't work. He'll never feel the same about anyone else.

Pet Store Owner: That's right. How did you know that? We put another female in there with him, but I'm afraid ol' Sergeant Pepper is going to grow old and die alone in this little cage. [pause]

Natalie: [to Monk] What was her name?

Monk: Trudy.

[Pursuing tour guide Lyle Peck through the museum, Natalie drags Monk through a walk-through exhibit of a woman's reproductive system.]

Natalie: Pretend you're in a funhouse.

Monk: Funhouse?! What's fun about fallopian tubes?!

[Later, up the tunnel]

Natalie: Okay, fetus ahead!

Monk: Ahhhh!

[They turn into the fallopian tubes.]

Monk: Ah, no! Oh, I c— I can't go up there, I— ah, I-I-I-I don't even know this woman!

Mr. Monk vs. the Cobra

[In John Ricca's apartment]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [to an officer] Get a list of tenants. Start knocking on doors. [Randy comes in, awestruck] Lieutenant, I thought you had the perimeter. [Randy starts pointing at various Sonny Chow movie posters in the living room]

Lt. Disher: Fist of the Cobra, 1975. I've got that same poster in my room. [points at another poster behind the TV] Oh look at this! It's from Ten Fingers of Doom. He broke his arm doing that stunt, but he still finished the scene, though. [squats in front of the TV and finds a VHS tape] Oh my God!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What?

Lt. Disher: He's got a bootleg copy of Enter the Cobra. Can I have it?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No you can't have it, Detective! This is a crime scene!

Lt. Disher: Let's watch it. [starts to put it into the VCR, but stops and reconsiders it] Okay. Sir, I have a theory on this: this guy John Ricca. He's published a book on Sonny Chow, right?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Right.

Lt. Disher: Well it was a real hatchet-job, I mean it made the Cobra look terrible.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: The Cobra?

Lt. Disher: Sonny Chow. Maybe we should be looking for a Sonny Chow fan. I mean they all hated the book, and most of them? Pretty nuts. I mean, I've seen the conventions all the time and they were real fanatics. [Monk and Natalie come in and step over the body to join Stottlemeyer and Disher]

Monk: Captain?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Monk, thank you for coming. Miss Teeger. I assume they filled you in downstairs.

Monk: More or less. How did he enter the building?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: He broke in through a door on the roof around 4:00 AM, but get this: when he left after the murder, he took the elevator down and ran out.

Monk: He didn't mind being seen?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No.

Natalie: Was he really killed with nunchucks?

Lt. Disher: Yeah, check this out. [walks in with an evidence bag containing the death nunchucks] Gold-plated. Look at those insignias. Sonny purchased ones like these in Ninja Fury.

Monk: The killer left these behind?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, they either belonged to the killer or to the victim. I mean, he was writing a book on all this crap. [An officer hands a VHS tape to Stottlemeyer]

Police Officer: Captain, here's the videotape you wanted.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Ah, thank you. [plugs it into the VCR] Elevator B, at... 4:07. Let's have a look. [He presses play. A grainy image of a ninja getting on the elevator is seen]

Natalie: You can't even see his face!

Lt. Disher: He looks like the Cobra. Sonny wore a uniform just like that in Kung-Fu Assassin.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Sonny Chow is dead. [walks back into the other room, where the medical examiner is standing over Ricca's body] Doctor, give me a good note.

Medical Examiner: He was clutching some hair. He must have grabbed it off the killer's head. That means we have a shot at some DNA.

Monk: How could he grab any hair? We just saw the tape. The intruder was wearing a hood.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well it could have fallen off during the fight.

Medical Examiner: Because we hit her. The victim wrote you a note. [Under Ricca's right hand is the word "OW," written in blood. Monk, Stottlemeyer and Disher all squat to examine it]

Lt. Disher: "OW"? Why would anybody write "OW"? Usually, that's something you'd say. [Monk moves Ricca's arm aside, revealing the whole word: "CHOW"] Oh my God. Chow's alive. Sir, the rumors are true: he's been hiding out overseas just waiting for a time to make a comeback.

[Stottlemeyer makes a late night visit to Monk's apartment. Monk, carrying a container of light bulbs, answers]

Monk: Captain.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Hey. Got a minute?

Monk: Sure. [Stottlemeyer comes in and Monk closes the door]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What are you doing?

Monk: Oh, nothing. I was just... polishing the light bulbs. What's going on?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Uhh, you remember that convention I went to in Atlanta about three years ago?

Monk: Uhhhh....

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, something happened there that I didn't tell you about: I landed, I hailed a cab, and, I recognized the cab driver. It was Harold Burnshaw.

Monk: Burnshaw?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Burnshaw. He used to be a Fed, he was a real player. He used to head the FBI's field office in Atlanta until the 1996 Olympic Games.

Monk: The Plaza bombing?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Exactly. They accused the wrong guy. Burnshaw booted it big-time on network television, instant career-killer. Now he's driving a cab. Monk, you should have seen his face. I'll never forget it.

Monk: What does this have to do with-

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Twenty years ago, Sonny Chow froze some of his own blood in the event that he needed surgery. So they've got bulletproof DNA for a comparison, and that's a prelim on the hair we found at the crime scene.

Monk: [reads from the file] It's a match.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: It's Sonny Chow's hair. No question about it. He's been dead for six years, and he's my primary suspect.

Monk: Yeah...

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Now if I go public with this, and I'm wrong, I'm gonna wind up at the airport, picking up cops who still have jobs! Can you help me with this? I mean, I've gotta know, I've gotta be certain. Is this guy alive or dead?

Natalie: [as Monk puts a small coin in a donation jar at the museum] It says five dollars.

Monk: Suggested donation. Considered their suggestion. Appreciate their suggestion. Decided to give less.

[Three police cars intercept Chris Downey's pickup truck as he drives out of the cemetery]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Turn off the motor! Throw your keys out the window! [Downey complies]

Lt. Disher: [advancing on Downey, his gun drawn] Show me your hands, Downey! Show me your hands! Get out of the car! Get out of the car! [Downey slowly opens his door just as Natalie runs up.]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Natalie, stay back! Stay back! [He forces Downey onto the hood of his truck] Where's Monk?! What did you do with him?

Chris Downey: Relax, Captain. He's still alive, for now.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Where is he? What did you do with him? We can save both of your lives.

Chris Downey: If you wanna find your friend, I want something too: I want a car to the airport. [produces a small bag from his uniform pocket] I'm already packed. I want a jet that can fly 2,000 miles without refuelling. When I'm in the air, I'll tell you, A) Where I'm going, and B) where you can dig up... [stammers] Di-Dig. Y-you can dig. [immediately has a heart attack and collapses to the ground]

Natalie: Oh my God, I think he's had a heart attack! [They start to perform CPR on him]

Lt. Disher: He's got no pulse.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Downey! Downey!

Natalie: Don't die on us!

[Monk has been buried alive.]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I want that backhoe ready and running! Keep it running! [to the search party] All right, listen up! We figure he's got about forty minutes of air if he's not panicking... figure on fifteen minutes. This is Monk, I want the best you've got! So we're gonna spread out and we're gonna work the grid, all right! We're looking for fresh dirt, tire tracks, footprints, anything! Let's go-go!

Lt. Disher: Captain! There's a problem; the cemetery's just expanded. They just tore down a restaurant over there. It's all dug up, like, an acre and a half. Monk could be anywhere.

Natalie: Captain, it's already been 20 minutes. Even if we find him, he'll be a basket case!

Mr. Monk Gets Cabin Fever

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [observing Kathy Willowby through binoculars] She's carrying two packages. Looks like ice.

Monk: Exactly! She's been buying ice all day. That makes 16 bags she's brought in so far.

Natalie: Maybe she's having a party.

Monk: No food! No beer, no chips, just ice!

Capt.Stottlemeyer: Maybe she's having an Adrian Monk party.

Monk: The only other thing that she bought today is a new radio. Plus, I am positive I heard a man screaming at 1:15 last night!

Capt.Stottlemeyer: That was me. You tied my foot to the bed.

Monk: I mean before that, and it was definitely coming from that cabin. [shushes them; faint country music can be heard from across the lake] You hear that? She said her husband didn't let her play country music in the house.

Natalie: Maybe he's not home.

Monk: Where did he go? There's his boat! They only have the one car.

Natalie: Maybe he went on a walk!

Monk: No, I have been watching the house all day. Captain, I have not seen him.

[Stottlemeyer goes inside while Monk and Natalie continue to observe Kathy. Stottlemeyer comes back out of the FBI cabin carrying the phone]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: It's ringing.

Natalie: But Agent Grooms said "no calls."

Capt.Stottlemeyer: Agent Grooms can kiss- [Kathy picks up the phone]

Kathy Willowby: Hello?

Capt.Stottlemeyer: Oh, hello. Mrs. Willowby.

Kathy Willowby: Yes?

Capt.Stottlemeyer: Uh, is Martin there? My name's Darrell Hendershot. I'm a friend of Martin's. We went to high school together. Uh, we're having a big high school reunion.

Kathy Willowby: Oh, I'm so sorry! He is on the lake fishing.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Oh, well, okay. I'll call back later!

Kathy Willowby: You do that.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Thank you very much. [hangs up] She says that he's on the lake fishing.

Monk: Captain, she killed him. [Natalie sets down the binoculars in disgust]

Natalie: You have got to be kidding. Can I take you anywhere?!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [about Kathy Willowby electrocuting her husband] Monk... are you sure? I mean, are you really sure? And don't give me any of that "95 percent" crap.

Monk: Captain, I am one hundred percent sure... that she probably killed him.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What does that mean?

[There is a lightning strike outside and a clap of thunder]

Monk: 95 percent.

[In the woods]

Monk: Are we lost? Tell me the truth, I can take it.

Natalie: We're... [Stottlemeyer mouths, "NO!"] ...not lost.

Monk: Oh, my God! WE'RE LOST!

[In the woods, Monk stumbles and grabs a tree to keep his balance.]

Monk: Ooh, I got nature, I got nature on my hand! [Natalie wipes off the dirt with a leaf] What are you doing? You can't clean nature with nature!

Kathy Willowby: [after the FBI and Capt. Stottlemeyer have killed the assassins] Is it over?

Deputy Paul Coby: Not for you. I'm gonna order a full autopsy on Martin's body; they'll know if it was lightning or electrocution. [He leads her house of the house while Monk, Natalie and Randy get up]

Lt. Disher: [to Monk and Natalie] So what the hell happened here?

Natalie: She electrocuted her husband!

Lt. Disher: Well, looks like we've all had a pretty full day: you guys solved a homicide, and I led those two hit men into our trap.

Mr. Monk Gets Stuck in Traffic

[Julie has to go to the bathroom.]

Monk: No, Julie, wait. Here. I'll give you ten dollars to hold it in.

Julie: Really?

Natalie: Mr. Monk, what are you doing? You can't pay a person not to pee!

Monk: Best money I ever spent.

Julie: Sure he can. It's called the free market. I learned about it in school. So, Mr. Monk... how much would you pay me not to throw up?

[about five miles later]

Julie: Here.

Monk: What's this?

Julie: I'm returning your money. I'm not gonna make it.

[Monk is getting onto the Korn tour bus so Julie can use the restroom.]

Monk: They spelled "Corn" wrong!

Monk: I like your music. It's very... musical. But I wish I could understand more of the words.

Monk: I play the clarinet. Played with Willie Nelson.

Monk: [to a Korn member] I like your socks.

Band Member: They're not socks. [He pulls up his pant leg and uncovers a very large tattoo, and Monk covers his eyes and Julie's eyes.].

Mr. Monk Goes to Vegas

[Monk and Natalie have arrived in Las Vegas]

Monk: They [the gamblers] look miserable.

Natalie: They are miserable. You might be the happiest person here.

[immediately, a woman at a slot machine behind them screams and jumps up and down in joy].

[Stottlemeyer has been awakened from a hangover by knocking at the door]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Where's my pants? Hey Randy, where's my pants?

Lt. Disher: [mumbling] You threw them out the window.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Why'd I do that?

Lt. Disher: One of the girls bet you a dollar you wouldn't.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [takes a dollar out of the waistband of his boxer shorts] Looks like she paid off. [more pounding at the door] Coming. COMING! Quit with the pounding! [looks through the peephole] Which one of you idiots invited Monk?!

[Monk is trying to help Stottlemeyer remember the events of his hangover]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I talked to someone.

Monk: Good! There you go. Who?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: It was a man. [beat] Or a woman.

Monk: Ah. Man or a woman. That narrows it down. So--so--so it wasn't a child.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Could have been.

[Monk watches as Stottlemeyer sings karaoke to get information from someone]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [singing "Ain't No Sunshine" by Bill Withers] Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, it's not warm when she's away. Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, she's always gone too long..."

[Natalie comes in and sees Stottlemeyer at the mic]

Monk: Don't ask.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [singing] ... anytime she goes away. Wonder this time where she's gone, wonder if she's gone to stay...

Wanda: Do the dance, you did a little dance.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [singing] Ain't no sunshine, when she's gone. So, gone too long, anytime she goes away...

Wanda: Turn around, I wanna see your tush.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [singing] I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know...

Wanda: Those are different pants. Where're the jeans? [Stottlemeyer stops singing]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Look, lady, a deal is a deal. I sang the song, now tell me what I said last night.

Wanda: All you said was, "They don't match."

Capt. Stottlemeyer: "They don't match"? What doesn't match?

Wanda: I don't know, you didn't say.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Wait, wait, wait. Is that it? Is that all you got?

Wanda: Leland, sing it again. I just love the way you sing.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [sighs] Thank you.

[He goes over to Monk and Natalie]

Monk: You were good.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Shut up.

[Monk refuses to look at the showgirls on stage]

Natalie: Mr. Monk, they're not naked.

Monk: They're naked-ish!

Natalie: Well, I can't argue with you there. They are naked-ish.

[Stottlemeyer has solved the case while drunk]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: So, that means if I'm drunk as a skunk, completely plastered, I'm as smart as you?

Monk: Smarter!

Mr. Monk and the Election

[Natalie refuses to drop out of the school board race after a sniper attack]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: And I'm assigning you a bodyguard. Lieutenant... [pins a "Vote Teeger" pin to Randy's lapel] ...thank you for volunteering!

Natalie: He's my bodyguard?!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: 24/7!

Natalie: I'm still not dropping out!

[Disher tests some lasagna Whitman brought in]

Lt. Disher: A little too much oregano, but it's not poisoned.

Jack Whitman: That's what every cook likes to hear.

[while Stottlemeyer and Monk question Harold Krenshaw, Stottlemeyer takes a bite of a coconut donut]

Harold Krenshaw: Now you have to eat a sugar one.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Don't want a sugar one.

Monk: Then you could take three more coconuts and two chocolate.

Harold Krenshaw: Or two coconuts and two glazed.

Monk: Or he could just eat all of them. That would be easier.

Harold Krenshaw: That's a good idea.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Or, I can do this. [He grabs the box, mashes it, then folds it in half, and pokes a hole in the middle] There. Now there's one donut. One big damn donut.

[Monk walks into Stottlemeyer's office]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [not looking up from his desk] Don't you ever get tired of being right?

Monk: I do feel tired. More fatigued, really. I don't know if it's from being right or-

Capt. Stottlemeyer: It was a rhetorical question, Monk. We might be on to something here. [hands Monk a file] Jack Whitman. He's been sent up twice, first time for mail fraud and receiving stolen property. Lately, he's been importing rugs.

[Monk looks up from the file]

Monk: Rugs?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah, rugs, from places like Chechnya, Uzbekistan. Sound familiar?

Monk: [realizing] The shell casing and the grenade.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: The Feds think that he's a major arms dealer. They raided his office six months ago. They came up empty-handed: no guns, no nothing, no paper trail. All they could get him on was tax evasion. He did five months. He just got out last Wednesday.

Monk: And two days later, he's on a roof taking shots at Natalie.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Then he joins her campaign, and then he tries to take you out?

Monk: What do you think he's after?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [stands up] I'm not gonna find out. Let's go get him.

Monk: I can't go. You're on your own. Natalie's waiting for me downstairs. I have to go vote.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, that's good. You're doing your civic duty.

Monk: There's that. Also, if I don't vote, Natalie will - you know.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I know.

[Monk, Natalie, and Randy have just escaped a grenade blast]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Disher told me that you put the grenade in the refrigerator.

Monk: Oh. Yeah.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: And then he said, you went back and opened it again. You just had to straighten something out, didn't you? [Monk shrugs] I'm going ask the mayor to give you a medal for what you did, and then I'm going to ask the mayor to take that medal back, because you just had to open that door.

Monk: It's a wash, isn't it?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: It's a wash.

Monk: Captain, that grenade... had Russian markings on it.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah I know, we found a piece of it. It was made in Chechnya. This guy must be very well connected. Whoever he is, you must be making him nervous.

Mr. Monk and the Kid

[Monk is babysitting Tommy.]

Teresa Crane: Now... before I go, do you have any questions for me?

Monk: Yes, yes, I have a couple of questions. What does he eat?

Teresa Crane: He... eats food. He eats whatever you eat, only smaller portions.

Monk: Oh. So he's like a person.

[Monk calls 9-1-1 while babysitting Tommy.]

911 Operator: You mean, you've never changed a diaper?

Monk: Hurry!

911 Operator: Okay, sir. On the side of the diaper there should be two Velcro straps.

Monk: Okay, I've got the straps.

911 Operator: Now rip 'em open!

[sound of Velcro ripping]

Monk: Oh! Oooohh! Oh, my God! Oh, the humanity!

[Monk and Natalie have brought Tommy along as they stake out the Carlyles]

Natalie: Oh, my God! What is this? Why is he wearing a helmet?

Monk: To protect his head.

Natalie: It must be so uncomfortable.

Monk: Oh, he'll get used to it. I used to wear one all the time.

Natalie: Your parents made you wear a helmet?

Monk: No.

Natalie: We just got your call. You found a body?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Not quite. There is a two year old boy named Tommy Graser-

Lt. Disher Uh, not two years. 22 months. Not quite two.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Whatever. Anyway, he was, um, separated from his mother-

Lt. Disher: No, uh, his guardian. She's not actually his mother. She, uh, runs a foster home. For the record.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: For the record, stand over there. [Randy walks a short distance away] Anyway, he was in the playground, and he disappeared for about ten minutes-

Lt. Disher: Uh 14 minutes. [Under Stottlemeyer's watchful glare, Randy takes a few steps back]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: When we found him, the little boy had a severed human finger.

Natalie: A finger?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: A pinkie. It was still bleeding, freshly severed, uh, probably about four hours ago.

Lt. Disher: Yeah about four hours ago.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I just said that, Randy!

Forensic Technician: It is a left pinkie, belonging to a male Caucasian, about 25 years old. So far, there's no match on the fingerprint. The digit was severed earlier today, we figure around 8:00 AM, with some kind of gardening instrument, like pruning shears.

Natalie: [disgusted] He cut up a whole body with pruning shears?

Lt. Disher: Nope, maybe they just cut off the fingers, that way when they dump the body later, there'll be no prints.

[Monk uses a set of tongs to grab the finger and holds it parallel to his left hand]

Monk: There's a callus.

Forensic Technician: That's true, we think he might have played guitar. [Monk holds the finger at an angle to approximate where a guitar-player would place it]

Monk: No, not guitar. It's at the wrong angle: he played the violin. [finds some sticky stuff on the finger] There's some residue. It's sticky.

Lt. Disher: Tree sap. Lumberjack. Missing nine-fingered lumberjack. [starts writing in his notepad]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Who plays the violin.

Lt. Disher: Should I put a list together?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Absolutely! Make sure you don't run out of paper.

Forensic Technician: It's not tree sap. We already ran it; the main component is abietic acid.

Monk: Abietic acid? It's violin rosin.

Natalie: I think that's pretty expensive rosin. It's for professionals.

Monk: So, professional - or at least, very serious - violinist, 25 years of age, who is missing.

Mr. Monk and the Other Detective

[Monk can't concentrate due to a fresh dog mess]

Natalie: Mr. Monk, are you okay? Everybody's waiting.

Monk: It's over there.

Natalie: What?

Monk: Dog... you know. Dog... doo.

Natalie: Did you step in it?

Monk: [looks at Natalie like she's crazy] If I stepped in it, I'd be in that ambulance right now, on my way to the emergency room, wouldn't I?! Praying for the sweet release that only death can bring!

Marty Eels: So Captain, am I on the case, or what?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Listen, I need to ask you a couple of questions.

Marty Eels: Sure.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Where were you yesterday morning at eight o'clock?

Marty Eels: You mean when the robbery was happening? Why? Because you can't keep up with me on a crime scene?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Where were you, Marty?

Marty Eels: [pouring them coffee] I was at the hospital. Saint Andrew's. They thought I had a concussion.

Lt. Disher: What happened?

Marty Eels: Well, it's kind of embarrassing. I got hit very hard by a client--hit me very hard. Yeah. I--I was supposed to follow his wife and take pictures. [hands them a file with photos of a terrified man and woman in bed]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Whoa! She was cheating on him.

Marty Eels: No, no. That's him. That's my client.

Natalie: [incredulously] You burst in and took a picture of a man in bed with his own wife?

Marty Eels: Yes I did. I made a mistake. I'm human! So the bottom line is that I was at the hospital when the jewelry thing was happening. You can call them.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: We will.

Marty Eels: Why is it so hard for you to believe that I'm this good?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Because, Marty, you were never this good before. In fact you sort of sucked.

[After Monk sees Marty's certificate]

Monk: Bay Area Center continuing education; is that a correspondence school?

Marty Eels: It's fully accredited...What school did you go to?

Monk: Berkeley.

Marty Eels: That's a good school....I believe they're fully accredited too.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [about Marty] Monk, sometimes when you're picking up clues, it seems like magic to me. Maybe he's doing something that--that you don't understand.

Monk: I think he's cheating! He's a cheater.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: This isn't the fourth grade, Monk.

Monk: He's cheating!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: How?

Monk: I don't know.

[Marty has found Harold Gumbal's body by using a tree branch and a dowsing rod]

Marty Eels: He was trying to tell us the name of the man who killed him. Look. [points using his tree branch] He's pointing to his watch.

Monk: No. He's not, Captain.

Marty Eels: Are there any perps who'd do a job like this by the name of--Casio?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Casio?

Marty Eels: Lefty? [thinks] Dial?

Lt. Disher: Eddie Dial? He just did seven years in Fulsom Prison for kidnapping and bank robbery; he just made parole.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, let's check him out.

Mr. Monk Goes Home Again

Mary Gilstrap: I have to have a Neptune bar every night or else I can't sleep. Funny, isn't it? I guess we all have our little quirks.

Monk: [nonchanantly] Yes, I suppose we do...

[Stottlemeyer and Disher talk to a cashier who saw the shooting]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [holding the police sketch of the suspect] You've never seen this guy before? In the store, hanging around the parking lot?

Young Cashier: I don't think so, but I see a lot of faces.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Sure.

Lt. Disher: It looks like Kiefer Sutherland.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [pausing] Yeah, I guess it does. [Disher scoots his chair over]

Lt. Disher: It wasn't Kiefer Sutherland, was it?

Young Cashier: No, sir.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [producing the killer's receipt] Here's a receipt. This is from your cash register. This is him, right?

Young Cashier: Mm-hmm.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Eight items at 89 cents.

Young Cashier: Yes, sir. Eight candy bars.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Eight candy bars?

Lt. Disher: It really looks like Kiefer Sutherland. You know, maybe we should - before we distribute it - write across the bottom "Not Kiefer Sutherland," just so that we don't disturb Mr. Sutherland.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [sarcastically] That's a really good idea.

Lt. Disher: You think so?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No.

[At Ambrose's house]

Natalie: [looking at an old photo album, specifically, a photo of Jack, Sr. with a turtle] Is that your father?

Ambrose Monk: Oh, that's him and Ambrose.

Natalie: He named the turtle after you?

Ambrose Monk: He named me after the turtle.

Mr. Monk Stays in Bed

[Natalie's cell phone rings while she is talking to Julio Alvarez's boss]

Monk: Natalie, it's me, Adrian Monk.

Natalie: Yes, Mr. Monk, we were just talking about you.

Monk: Natalie, you have to come back here.

Natalie: I can't right now, Mr. Monk, I'm at the pizzeria talking to the manager.

Monk: It's Ebola.

Natalie: Excuse me?

Monk: I think I have the Ebola virus.

Natalie: No, Mr. Monk, you do not have the Ebola virus.

Monk: I'm pretty sure I do, I have all the symptoms, I have the headache, the fever, the massive internal bleeding.

Natalie: You have massive internal bleeding?

Monk: Yes, I believe I do, that is my opinion.

[Monk is in bed and Natalie brings him some soup.]

Monk: I see letters!

Natalie: It's alphabet soup.

[While Monk's in bed Stottlemeyer visits him.]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [pointing to machine] What's this?

Monk: Humidifier.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [Pointing to other machine] And this?

Monk: De-humidifier.

[long pause]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, don't they cancel each other out?

Monk: Exactly.

Mr. Monk Goes to the Office

[Monk sees two police officers conversing at a crime scene.]

Monk: [to Natalie] They're talking about football. I have that one! Give me the cards.

Natalie: No, Mr. Monk, you don't need the cards.

Monk: Give me the cards.

[Natalie hands him the cards. Monk rummages through them.]

Monk: Let's see, weather, politics, movies, swear words...

Natalie: Swear words?

Monk: Here's football.

[He looks at the cards and approaches the officers.]

Monk: You guys are talking about the football game last night? The San Francisco 49ers lost 27 points to 21 points.

Police Officer #1: Yes, we know.

Monk: It was a hell of a fourth quarter, though. It was the turn-overs. They always comeback to haunt you.

Police Officer #2: Yeah, we were just saying Rattay can't handle the pressure. Why didn't they take him out?

[Monk thinks for a moment and goes back to the cards. He returns to the police officers.]

Monk: That's true about quarterback Tim Rattay. But don't forget, he won 4 out of the 5 last home games.

Police Officer #2: But they were in Houston, Monk.

[Long pause.]

Monk: You guys want to hear some swear words?

[Chilton is not happy with the office cubicle that Monk has been put in]

Chilton Handy: Mr. Kemp said I could have that cubicle.

Abby: What's the difference?

Chilton Handy: It's closer to the emergency exit. Statistically, it's a little safer.

Abby: Statistically, you're a little nuts! Why don't you double up on your medication and get back to work?

Mr. Monk Gets Drunk

[Monk tries to apologize once more to Sylvia Willis about the events of the previous year]

Sylvia Willis: We had a mystery weekend [last year], and we hired some actors who were going to act out a little murder.

Monk: I'm really, really sorry.

Sylvia Willis: It was supposed to be for three days, and everybody paid in advance for three days. And Adrian solved the case in, what was it, twelve minutes?

Monk: I knew that the general's daughter was lying about meeting Churchill because Churchill wasn't knighted until 1953, which meant that Reginald, the limping chauffeur who supplied her alibi, was also lying, so obviously they were lovers who were planning to kill the Sultan.

Sylvia Willis: Anyway, we had to refund everybody's money, but we learned our lesson: no more mysteries when Adrian Monk is in town.

Monk: Isn't this great? Just two guys in a revolving restaurant...

[Monk is trying to keep Al Nicoletto occupied, and due to a mixup, he has accidentally been given the full strength wine rather than the non-alcoholic wine]

Monk: You look like a moose. I think I'll call you... Mr. Look-Like-A-Moose.

[observing women standing in a barrel, crushing grapes]

Wine Expert: Wine stomping. It's a tradition that goes back thousands of years to the Greeks. We're one of the last wineries in California that at least makes some of their wines using this method.

Monk: Oh my God! People actually drink that?!

Natalie Teeger: Yeah, I think so.

Monk: Are they insane?! Ask her if they're insane!

Monk: I've been drinking that wine for fifteen years! It's foot wine! I can taste it!

Natalie: Oh, come on, you cannot taste it!

Monk: I... I... I... can. I can taste the feet now. And the toes. And what's between the toes.

Al Nicoletto: And the fungus. It really is barbaric.

Natalie: Okay, I didn't see any fungus! Look, I'm sure they have clean feet, there are probably rules about that stuff! [She trails off as the grape stompers walk past them, stepping barefoot across the muddy ground] Okay, I admit it, that's pretty disgusting.

Mr. Monk and Mrs. Monk

[Monk is in shock when faced with evidence that his wife Trudy faked her own death.]

Dr. Charles Kroger: Adrian, I'm not going to believe anything until I hear it from you. Is Trudy alive?

Monk: I don't know. But if it's true, then nothing is true. If this is true, nothing is true.

Monk: I got her back. For an hour and a half. I thought she might be alive. I had hope. Isn't hope the worst?

Lt. Disher: If we were both drowning, who would you save?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I don't know, both of you.

Lt. Disher: No. If you could only save one of us?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, I would probably save Monk because he can't swim and I happen to know you're an excellent swimmer.

Lt. Disher: Suppose I was holding an anchor? . . . Who would you save then?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, why don't you let go of the anchor?

Lt. Disher: It's a family heirloom.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I'm leaving. [walks out].

Mr. Monk Goes to a Wedding

[about the "police officer" at a bachelorette party]

Natalie: Mr. Monk, he's not a real cop. He's a stripper.

Monk: I don't think so.

Natalie: Didn't you see his badge? It says "Officer Feelgood."

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Monk, the guy's got dollar bills sticking out of his belt.

Monk: I thought he'd lost his wallet.

[after Randy offers to be Natalie's date to the wedding]

Natalie : Hey, is Greenberg still dating that parole officer?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, he married her.

Lt. Disher: I have my own tux and everything.

Natalie: Ooh, ooh, what about that B-and-E suspect you brought in last week? He was kinda cute.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Not cute enough to make bail.

[Monk and Stottlemeyer are looking through Adrian and Trudy's wedding album]

Monk: She was... wow.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Beautiful.

Monk: I remember during the service she was crying so hard, she couldn't even say the words "I do". Have you ever seen anybody cry so much?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: That was you, Monk. And no, I have not.

[Someone has nearly tried to kill Randy by running him down]

Natalie: How is he?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Broken arm, broken leg, probably a couple of broken ribs. Suitcase took most of the blow; it could've been much worse.

Natalie: Can he identify the driver?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: He can't identify me! I'll check back later. [to Monk] What have you got?

Monk: Condensation. The air conditioner was running, and the humidity is what, about 70%? So that car was idling right here for about 20 minutes.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: So what, he was waiting for him?

Monk: From the tire tracks, he must have peeled out at full speed.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: So he didn't even try to brake, or make the turn? [realizes what Monk's words mean] Son-of-a-bitch! [to Natalie] What happened?! He was only here for an hour! Did he piss somebody off?

Monk: [produces an evidence bag] And we found this, near the gas pedal. It's some kind of green mud.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I'll get this down to the lab right away.

Natalie: Captain, it's not your case.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Like hell it's not!

[Monk and Natalie notice Stottlemeyer using a camera to take pictures of the guests]

Natalie: Captain, what are you doing here?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Taking pictures. I overheard your mother say that the wedding photographer didn't show up, so I volunteered. I borrowed this from one of the crime tech guys.

Natalie: Why?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Because Randy says he thinks he can identify the driver.

Monk: Did he get a good look at him?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yep. Male Caucasian, medium build, red baseball cap, sunglasses. I figure I'd develop these tonight, and maybe we'll get lucky.

Natalie: You're undercover at my brother's wedding?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah. Look, I'm doing you a favor. It's either this or we take everybody upstairs one at a time. Smile. [Monk and Natalie smile as Stottlemeyer snaps a photo of them].

Mr. Monk and Little Monk

Sherry Judd: Adrian helped me out of a jam when we were young. Was that 30 years ago?

Monk: April 12, 1972.

Sherry Judd: You remember?

Monk: I only remember the date... and what everybody wore, and what everybody said, and what everybody did.

Mrs. Monk: Adrian!

Young Adrian Monk: Mom, everybody's watching.

Mrs. Monk: Here's your lunch. It's cut into ten little squares, just like we like. And here's your first aid kit, and your toiletries bag.

Young Adrian Monk: Mom...

Mrs. Monk: You'll thank me later. Don't share your lunch with anyone, and sit near the fire doors. I'll pick you up at 3:07, I'll be wearing an orange blouse.

Young Adrian Monk: Mom, I know what you look like. I love you, Mom.

[He opens his arms to hug her.]

Mrs. Monk: What are you doing?

Young Adrian: Right, sorry.

[He puts down one of his bags and gives her a brisk handshake.].

Natalie: What was he like? As a kid?

Sherry Judd: Pretty much the same. Careful, smart... sad.

Mrs. Ledsky: Here, take this one. I made it with exactly ten chocolate chips, like you like.

Monk: [bites the cookie] You're an excellent cook, Mrs. Ledsky.

Mrs. Ledsky: It's a gift... [hand to her stomach] And a curse.

[Monk and Sherry Judd look at a painting in an art gallery]

Sherry Judd: I love this one - look at their faces. I wonder what they're thinking.

Monk: She is planning to murder him.

Sherry Judd: What?

Monk: She's about to feed him Amanita mushrooms - you can tell by the little white spots. It's a deadly poison.

Sherry Judd: Well maybe she doesn't know?

Monk: She knows. He's been hitting her. She's swollen. See the bruises on her arms and her left eye? She knows what she's doing. [pause]

Sherry Judd: It must be hard, to be you - to see everything.

Monk: It's awful.

Mr. Monk and the Secret Santa

Julie: I've never seen the snow. Is it beautiful?

Monk: Oh, yes. It's beautiful. You know, no two snowflakes are alike... and it's still beautiful.

[Terry is putting up a "MERRY CHRISTMAS" banner, which is slightly askew]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Terry, hey! That's not straight. The left side is too low.

Detective Terry Chasen: It's good enough.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, it's not. Adrian Monk is coming.

Detective Terry Chasen: Ah, hell. Okay.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You looking forward to our little party, Alice?

Cpl. Alice Westergren: Uh, I guess so. How long do these things usually last?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Last year, Karen and I left at about 2:30 AM and Terry - Detective Chasen - was still standing on a table in his boxer shorts singing "Help Me, Rhonda" in Spanish.

Detective Terry Chasen: That's a lie! I don't speak Spanish!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Oh yes, you do!

Cpl. Alice Westergren: Oh, and this came for you. Someone dropped this off at the front desk. [hands Stottlemeyer the bottle of port]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [reads the card attached to the bottle] "Captain Leland Stottlemeyer." [opens it] "Captain Stottlemeyer, thank you for your business. Eastwood Auto Supply." [turns to Alice] You know what this is, Alice? This is a bribe. Somebody is trying to influence public policy, and I think it might work.

[the SFPD has come to arrest Frank Prager, who is hiding in a church]

Sister Heather: Captain Stottlemeyer, I'm Sister Heather.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Hi, sister. You know why I'm here, right?

Sister Heather: Yes. He's here; he's in the sanctuary. He's very frightened. You think he tried to murder you?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yes, ma'am, I do.

Sister Heather: You obviously have very strong feelings about this.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You're godda- Yes, I do.

Sister Heather: I just want to make sure that Brad isn't mistreated.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Brad's not his name.

Sister Heather: You're right, I don't know his real name, but I know the man. He's been working in our outreach program. He's been feeding the hungry and the homeless every night. When they're too tired to come here, he brings food to them.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Maybe he has a guilty conscience.

Sister Heather: Well, any conscience at all is a rare thing these days. What do you want, Captain?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I want justice.

Sister Heather: Well, he's afraid that you want something else. He's afraid you and the other policemen want...

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Revenge.

Sister Heather: My father once taught me an important lesson: "There is no revenge so complete as forgiveness."

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Your father?

Sister Heather: He's your father, too.

[Stottlemeyer takes Monk to the parking lot where Prager tried to kill him]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Four months ago, it was a Tuesday night, I came out of a bar, around 2:30. [flashback to Stottlemeyer leaving that bar] They took my keys, so I'm walking home. [flashback ends] There was-there was a big black van here, he was waiting behind it. [points to a space occupied by a vintage car] Must've been parked here all night. [In flashback, Prager steps out from behind the van] He steps out. I'm standing right about where you are now. I knew who it was right away: it was Frank Prager, and he wanted me dead. I could see it in his eyes. [Stottlemeyer, in flashback, sees Prager's cold vengeful glare. Suddenly Prager brings up a gun and fires five shots at Stottlemeyer, but Stottlemeyer ducks behind a car, but by the time he brings up his S&W gun, Prager has vanished] He aims a Glock 17 at my head, caps off five rounds. And then he just disappeared. Until last night.

Monk: And they just left the bullet holes?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well it's probably good for business at this place. It adds to the mystique.

Mr. Monk Goes to a Fashion Show

[Monk, Natalie, Stottlemeyer and Disher visit Hodge's fashion house to talk to him. Hodge advances on Natalie]

Julian Hodge: If you're gonna rob me, you should bring a gun.

Natalie Teeger: Pardon me?

Julian Hodge: The blouse. It's a knock-off of one of my designs.

Natalie: Oh. It is? I didn't know.

Julian Hodge: Of course. That's not the real crime. The real crime is how you look in it.

Natalie: [after Hodge leaves] He did it!

Monk: Natalie, he's not even a suspect!

Natalie: Damn!

[Monk and Natalie cut in line trying to get into Julian Hodge's fashion show while searching for Julie.]

Monk: I'm on the list.

Security guard: Name?

Monk: Puff Daddy, plus 1.

Monk: [during the show] Natalie! Don't eat the food back there. I just saw two of the models throwing up!

Howard "Gordo" Gordon: Is there any new evidence?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No. Monk met the killer's mother.

Lt. Disher: She's a shirt inspector.

Natalie: She swears he's innocent.

Howard "Gordo" Gordon: I know. That's the toughest part of the job, the mothers crying and pleading. That's one thing I'm not gonna miss!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Where are you going?

Howard "Gordo" Gordon: Didn't you hear? I'm retiring! There's a party for me on Friday if you wanna come.

Lt. Disher: Cool, absolutely! I'll be there.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You're retiring? How old are you?

Howard "Gordo" Gordon: 46.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [in disbelief] Did you win the lottery?

Howard "Gordo" Gordon: No, I've been investing. Real estate. [beat] What have you been doing with your savings?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Uhhhhhhhhhhh, eating. You know, I think I need to talk to my accountant.

Natalie: What, you have an accountant?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Nope. Gonna have to go find an accountant, then I'm gonna talk to him.

[Natasia Zorelle has been discovered dead in her apartment. Gordo is dusting a glass for fingerprints when Monk, Natalie, Stottlemeyer and Disher come in]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: How's it look, Gordo?

Howard "Gordo" Gordon: Oh, looks like suicide, smells like suicide. Primary's on suicide. She drained two of those bottles and around 30 sleeping pills.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Were those prescription?

Howard "Gordo" Gordon: Probably not.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [to Randy] We'll check with her doctor. Make a note.

Lt. Disher: I'll remember. [Randy is wearing an expensive suit, due to Hodge's comment about his attitude getting way over his head]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Where's your notebook?

Lt. Randall Disher: Oh, I didn't bring it. It's an Italian suit, it was ruining the lining. But don't worry. [points to his head] I'll remember it. [He gazes at a mirror and tries to readjust the lining. Natalie steps in front of him and blocks his view]

Natalie: Am I in your way?

Howard "Gordo" Gordon: [to Monk] She probably got depressed after you spoke to her. All those memories about the murder bubbling up.

Monk: You know, I don't think so. One set of fingerprints on the glass.

Howard "Gordo" Gordon: Well yeah, they're hers.

Monk: But look. She's wearing lipstick. There's no lipstick on the glass. Somebody wiped down the glass, and then put it back in her hand. [Stottlemeyer turns and addresses all of the other cops and CSI techs in the room]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: O-K! This is now a homicide investigation! Lock this joint down, nobody touches anything! [turning to Randy] Fabio, go and borrow a notebook, and borrow a pencil, and start talking to neighbors!

Natalie: Captain, what do you think it means?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: It means that your boss scared somebody.

Mr. Monk Bumps His Head

[Disher tells Natalie that Monk has been found in Wyoming, where a trucker dropped him off.]

Natalie: Are they sure it's really him?

Lt. Disher: The trucker gave him a five dollar bill, the guy kept smoothing it out.

Natalie: He's alive!

Monk: [surrounded by bees] Could you do me a favor? Could you kill me, please?

Mr. Monk and the Captain's Marriage

[Natalie is about to touch Devo, Gerald Vengal's pet]

Natalie: He's actually kinda cute. [leans forward to pet it]

Monk: Natalie, don't touch him! Later on, when we have time, I'll tell you a little story about the Black Plague.

Gerald Vengal: I'll never forget that face if I live to be 40.

[Stottlemeyer returns home after having punched a cop]

Karen Stottlemeyer: Did something happen?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Now that's a good question. What did you do? Did you turn the heat up? It's like a sauna in here.

Karen Stottlemeyer: It's supposed to be ninety-nine degrees exactly. It's called the Gittomer Method. It's very therapeutic.

[Stottlemeyer wants Monk to follow his wife]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Monk, I really need to know. I'd do it myself, but the chief says I need to go to this anger management class, which really pisses me off! I knocked out a tooth. One tooth. It's not like I killed the guy!

Monk: Who was that clown? I'd never seen him before.

[Monk and Natalie are following Karen]

Natalie: How long have they been married?

Monk: Forever. Karen and Leland? They've never had a thing in common. I remember... this one weekend he went hunting. She stayed home and organized a rally for stronger gun control.

Mr. Monk and the Big Reward

[Rufus pulls up to the MacMillan Museum in a van and hops out with some tulips]

Inspector St. Clare: Excuse me! Any suspects, yet?

Rufus: I wouldn't know. I'm just delivering flowers.

Inspector St. Clare: No you're not. You're a private detective, like me.

Rufus: [scoffs] Me, a detective? That's uh, very funny by the way! I can't wait to tell the guys-

Inspector St. Clare: Look, you're selling it to me! That satellite dish on your roof, the number on the side - "555" - obviously a fake. Now conclusion number 1: you're after the Alexander Diamond. Conclusion number 2: you haven't got a prayer. :[Dirk, a motorcycle rider, wheels in and parks his motorcycle in a handicap space]

Rufus: Excuse me! That's a handicap spot!

Dirk: It's okay. I'm psychotic. Is this where they stole the rock?

Inspector St. Clare: You judging me?

Dirk: Not anymore.

[Stottlemeyer reads the coroner's report to Monk and Natalie]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Here's the coroner's report. Victim's name: Danny Chasen, it's probably an alias. Victim was poisoned; somebody spiked his all-natural barley tea with ammonia.

Monk: Was he part of the heist?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Looks like it. They found some hair samples in that rolltop desk at the museum that matched the body.

Natalie: Where's the diamond?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Still missing in action. Wasn't on him or in the cabin.

Monk: We know he had a partner, somebody who works at the museum. It's probably still with him.

Natalie: So the reward is still good? I mean, nobody's claimed it?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah, as far as I know. The reward is still good.

Natalie: [holds up file] Ka-ching!

Monk: [to Stottlemeyer] Could you make her stop saying that?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: This is no longer a parlor game. A man is dead. This is a homicide investigation, which means nobody is to withhold any information from anybody.

Natalie: [noticing that Monk and Stottlemeyer are looking at her with accusing looks] What? Are you looking at me?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yes I am, Ms. Teeger.

[Randy is questioning security guard Warren Landis about where he was during the robbery]

Warren Landis: I want to help you guys. I really do, but they've questioned me three times.

Lt. Disher: It's not just you, Mr. Landis. We're talking to all the guards, cleaning staff, curators; anybody who was at the museum.

Warren Landis: Yeah, but I haven't been home yet!

Lt. Disher: And I appreciate that. We just need your official statement, and you're free to go. So for the record, where were you during the robbery?

Warren Landis: OK, for the tenth time, I was at my station on the main floor. I *never* left. I didn't even go to the bathroom.

Lt. Disher: And you didn't hear anything unusual?

Warren Landis: No, sir. I was three floors away.

Lt. Disher: Okay. [noticing Monk and Natalie] Excuse me for a second. Can I get you something to drink?

[Randy walks over to the cooler where Monk and Natalie are standing]

Lt. Disher: Monk, Nat.

Monk: What's going on?

Lt. Disher: What? You haven't heard? Robbery at the MacMillan Museum. It was big, big! The Alexander Diamond.

Natalie: Whoa!

Lt. Disher: I know whoa! Robbery division asked us to help out, so we're taking statements from everybody on site.

Monk: So you're not arresting him about the drugs?

Lt. Disher: Uh, no, what drugs?

Monk: His fingertips are stained. It looks like red phosphorus. You get that from making crystal meth. He's got to have a lab somewhere.

Lt. Disher: Okay, I'll look into it. [turns to Landis] Excuse me, Mr. Landis. [to Monk and Natalie] If the Captain needs me, I'll be in Interrogation Room B. [Randy leaves with Landis to head to the interrogation room].

[The day after Jennie Mandeville confesses to stealing a pen from a bank, she comes back and confesses to accidentally killing her roommate and dumping his body]

Lt. Disher: Jenny, what did you do with the body?

Jenny Mandeville: I flushed it down the toilet. [Realizing that this is another false "confession", Randy switches off the tape recorder]

Lt. Disher: Was Tony a goldfish?

Jenny Mandeville: A hamster.

Jenny Mandeville: [to Randy] So am I in trouble?

Lt. Disher: No, not this time, miss. But listen, if you feeling like finding someone to confess to, you should call a priest. [to an officer] Would you escort Miss Mandeville out? [Monk, Natalie and Stottlemeyer come out of the Captain's office. Disher turns to them]

Monk: Who is she?

Lt. Disher: Looney Tune of the Month. Her name's uh, Jennie Mandeville. She keeps on coming in here and confessing to stuff.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What was it this time?

Lt. Disher: Well, she comes in, same as yesterday. Says she accidentally killed her roommate. So I take her into the back room and I turn on the tape recorder - Turns out her roommate was a hamster.

Monk: [chuckles] She didn't look unstable.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: They never do.

Mr. Monk and the Astronaut

Natalie: [after convincing both Monk and Steve Wagner to speak at Julie's school] I'm gonna be class mom of the year!

Monk: I'm half-man, half-wuss. I'm a muss.

Mr. Monk Goes to the Dentist

[Randy is at Dr. Oliver Bloom's office]

Dr. Oliver Bloom: Well, Mr. Disher. I'm Oliver Bloom. Don't get up, I'm kidding. You're a Lieutenant, right?

Lt. Disher: Yeah.

Dr. Oliver Bloom: I can usually guess within one rank. I see a lot of cops who are on the medical plan.

Lt. Disher: Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.

Dr. Oliver Bloom: Oh don't worry. We're open late on Tuesdays and Thursdays in case of emergencies. Also to keep Terri here off the streets.

Terri: He worries about me.

Dr. Oliver Bloom: I do worry about you. You know what I worry about? I worry about this bad boy here, your number 3 molar.

[Randy is placed into anasthesia]

Dr. Oliver Bloom: Terri, I'm gonna need that angle director probe.

Terri: Angle director probe. [she hands it to Dr. Bloom] Doctor, I think he's coming awake again. [They put the mask back on Randy's mouth to knock him out again. Randy's vision fades to the next moment where he gains consciousness]

Dr. Oliver Bloom: Come on, come on. [An intruder bursts into the office and Dr. Bloom and Terri look up]

Denny Jardeen: Hey!

Dr. Oliver Bloom: What are you doing here?

Denny Jardeen: What did you do with Barry Bonds? I know he's here somewhere. I know he's here.

Dr. Oliver Bloom: I don't know what you're talking about.

Denny Jardeen: Barry Bonds!

Lt. Disher: Barry Bonds...

Terri: We don't know any 'Barry Bonds'!

Denny Jardeen: He's worth $13 million! What did you do to him?!

Dr. Oliver Bloom: We have a patient here. [With the intruder getting agitated, Dr. Bloom and Terri attack the intruder. We see a struggle ensue]

Lt. Disher: [fading back into unconsciousness] Hey, cut it out! [Terri grabs an object and brings it down several times on the intruder] I'm a police officer. [His vision fades] I'm a police officer.... [cuts to Terri and Dr. Bloom standing over Randy]

Terri: Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Welcome back.

Lt. Disher: [opens his eyes] Are you okay?

Terri: Am I okay? Of course I am. Why shouldn't I?

Lt. Disher: There was a man in here.

Dr. Oliver Bloom: She has men in here all the time.

Lt. Disher: You were fighting.

Dr. Oliver Bloom: Oh there was a fight all right, between me and this molar here! It didn't wanna come out! [jiggles a little container with Randy's tooth] Now there's going to be some sensitivity for a couple days, so I wrote you a prescription that should help with the pain. You need to take one every four hours.

[Randy tells Stottlemeyer about the murder he "witnessed"]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You saw it?

Lt. Disher: Sort of. I was sedated.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You were sedated? Randy, one time I was under anesthesia, I thought my mustache was a chipmunk!

Detective Patterson: I was the Green Lantern once. It was great. I didn't want to wake up.

[Determined not to go back to a dentist's office ever again, Monk is flossing in Stottlemeyer's office]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: What's he doing?

Natalie: Flossing. He's determined never to go back to a dentist ever again.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Monk, cut it out. I mean it; this is a floss-free zone.

Monk: Since when?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Since right now!

[Randy has quit the force]

Natalie: You miss him. I can tell.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Look, Natalie, it's not like we were going steady, okay? We worked together. He was just another cop.

Natalie: That is not true!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You're right. It's not true. He's not just another cop; he was the single most annoying human being to ever wear a badge! [Monk walks by, gargling noisily] Present company excepted.

Mr. Monk Gets Jury Duty

[Monk is yelling out a window to Natalie who is standing by a dumpster where a dead woman was found]

Monk: Who is she?

Natalie: No I.D.

Monk: No idea?

Natalie: [a little louder] No I.D.

Monk: No idea?

Natalie: [louder] No... [points to eye] I... [makes the shape of a "D"] D!

Monk: ...No idea?

Disher: No I.D.!

Monk: Why don't you check her identification?

Disher: NO I.D.!!

Natalie: [screams, exasperated] NO I.D.!!!

[long pause]

Monk: ...No idea?

[Escobar is being extradited and Stottlemeyer is taking emergency precautions at the courthouse]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Pay attention. I'm only gonna say this once. Escobar's hearing is tomorrow at 12:00 Noon. We lock this joint down tonight at midnight, every exit, every window. 1:00 AM: we sweep for bombs, head to toe. 6:00 AM: I want snipers on this roof and on the roof next door. We arrive at 11:30. 11:40: we meet Lapides at the elevator, we hand him off. From there, he's the bureau's.

Lt. Disher: Sir, could you repeat that, please?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah, what part?

Lt. Disher: Uhh, everything after "Pay attention, I'm only gonna say this once."

[Stottlemeyer groans in frustration].

[Stottlemeyer and Disher, celebrating the arrest of Escobar, crumple up balls of paper and toss them in the trash. FBI Special Agent Lapides comes in and catches one before it lands in the trash can]

Special Agent Lapides: Is this a bad time?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [taking a bite out of a bagel] It is now. [to Randy] Randy, you remember Special Agent Lapides? :[Lapides produces an envelope]

Special Agent Lapides: Actually I'm not alone. I'm with the attorney general. Wanna read it?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I don't need to read it. I'm not giving you Escobar. No way, no how.

Special Agent Lapides: Leland, this case is bigger than San Francisco. Escobar was supplying drugs to seven states.

Lt. Disher: Yeah, but we caught him here!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You're damn right we did, and we got him on a homicide, right here in the City of San Francisco. This case represents three years of my life.

Special Agent Lapides: Well you have the thanks of a grateful nation, Captain. But the federal indictment's already been filed. We're gonna try him first.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [to himself] Sons-of-bitches.

Special Agent Lapides: There's an extradition hearing on Thursday. Here's how it's gonna work: you babysit Escobar until then, you bring him to the courthouse, meet us in the lobby, you drop him off, you go home. [starts to leave; but then stops, and holds the envelope to his ear] "What's that, sir?" I'll tell him. [to Stottlemeyer] The attorney general says, "Don't screw it up".

Mr. Monk and the Actor

[After being threatened by Ruskin, dressed as Monk, the real Monk shows up]

Jack Leverett: What are you guys, some kind of cult?

Dr. Kroger: And they canceled the movie [about you]?

Monk: He said he wanted to play a character who wasn’t so dark and depressing. [pause] He's in England playing Hamlet.

[Stottlemeyer and Disher are watching the actors playing them in a movie adaptation of "Mr. Monk and the Astronaut"]

Actor Playing Stottlemeyer: [talking on prop cellphone] Uh look, I know he's a bit eccentric, but Adrian Monk is the best damn investigator I've ever had so you tell the mayor if he goes I go. [pauses] That's right. Lt. Disher! Lt. Disher, you got a minute? [A female Disher enters the room; the real Randy is embarrassed]

Actress Playing Disher: [enters] Yes, Captain.

Actor Playing Stottlemeyer: Uh, what the hell do I say? I got it. The victim, the victim just received a check for fifty thousand dollars. Pretty weird time to kill yourself. What do you think?

Actress Playing Disher: I'll tell you what I think. I think the department doesn't appreciate you enough.

[gets closer to the Stottlemeyer actor]

Actor Playing Stottlemeyer: Randy, what are you doing?

Actress Playing Disher: I'm doing what you taught me to do, Captain: following my instincts.

[They start kissing; the real Stottlemeyer and Disher are mortified]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: That never happened.

Lt. Disher: Not even once.

Mr. Monk and the Garbage Strike

Monk: Yes sir, it just came to me last night in a vision. One, we evacuate the city, every man, woman, and child.

Mayor Ray Nicholson: Evacuate?

Monk: Two, we burn it down. We just burn it. Scorched earth.

Mayor Ray Nicholson: Uhh....

Monk: Then just to be safe, we collect all the ashes and what do we do? We burn the ashes. Three, we bring everybody back and start over. Think of it, we rebuild San Francisco ...from scratch. Start fresh, everything clean. Everything brand new. Gonna have that new city smell. Fresh off the lot, we can even straighten out Lombard Street while we’re at it.

[Monk is driving a lone garbage truck through the city.]

Lt. Disher: He's like a vigilante. A garbage vigilante.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You could say that. But don't.

Monk: I got it all figured out. When this truck's full I'll drive it into the bay. Then come back, get another truck, and keep driving them into the bay. One bag at a time, one truck at a time. One bag at a time, one truck at a time.

Monk: Do you have any more of these Odor-Eaters?

Drugstore Manager: How many do you need?

Monk: Oh, about...a trillion.

[Monk is trying to have a session with Dr. Kroger, but garbage bags are being thrown into the courtyard]

Monk: It keeps piling up. I always hated garbage. Even when I was a kid. We live 2.2 miles from the city dump. I used to lie in bed. Smelling it. Had nightmares all the time. About trash. Piling up outside, higher and higher...until we couldn't leave the house. [chokes] We were buried alive. [A bag is tossed] And now it's coming true. [Dr. Kroger does not reply] Dr. Kroger? [after a pause]

Dr. Charles Kroger: Adrian, have you been sending me your trash?

Monk: [laughs in disbelief] No.

Dr. Charles Kroger: See...I've been getting boxes of trash, sent to me in the mail.

Monk: Really?

Dr. Charles Kroger: Yeah, really. Now, Adrian, don't try to deny it. It's all sorted by color and food groups. It’s your handwriting on the label. It’s upsetting my wife, it’s upsetting my children, and I want it to stop!

Mr. Monk and the Big Game

[Monk is trying to get Natalie to stand on his hands to look on top of a locker]

Monk: [Locks his hands] Up you go.

Natalie: What?

Monk: Take a look, check it out. Up you go.

Natalie: Up you go.

Monk: Up you go!

Natalie: Up you go!

Monk: Up you go!

Natalie: I'm just the assistant!

Monk: I believe the word "assist" is a very large part of the word "assistant." Right, "assist", from the Latin meaning, "UP YOU GO!"

[With difficulty, Monk hoists Natalie, who just barely peek over the top of the lockers]

Natalie: Well, higher! [Straining, Monk does so] Oh my God!

Monk: What is it?

Natalie: Oh my God!

Monk: Natalie, what is it?

Natalie: There are footprints!

Monk: Footprints... down you go.

Natalie: Okay, down I go?

Monk: Down you go.

Natalie: Down we go.

Principal Franklin: Oh yes, Mr. Monk. We met last year at the, uhh, career day. How have you been?

Monk: The same.

Principal Franklin: Well, I'm sorry to hear that.

Natalie: So you've never won anything in your whole life?

Monk: Once, at a birthday party, I won a game of musical chairs.

Natalie: Well, that's something.

Monk: But then I was disqualified. A mother said I went counter-clockwise, or something.

Natalie: Well, at least you got invited to the party!

Monk: It was my party, okay, it was my mother!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I can talk to her next week. How about Saturday? I'll take you guys out for pancakes.

Natalie: Yeah, it's okay. That's not going to give her much time. It's all right. [starts to head for the door, but then stops, and turns around] Oh, you know what? I forgot to mention! My cousin works for a PR firm for the '49ers.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No kidding!

Natalie: Yeah! Joe Montana's gonna be in town on Thursday! He's shooting some commercial. You wanna meet him?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Joe Montana? Sure!

Natalie: Okay, you're not too busy?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, no. No, I'm sure we can make that work.

Natalie: Oh, great, because I lied! But it's nice to know you're available on Thursday! Julie will be here after school. Thanks! [grins, and leaves the office].

[Monk and Natalie are in the girl's bathroom]

Natalie: You okay?

Monk: Girl's bathroom.

Natalie: What are you afraid of? [pokes Monk] Cooties?

Monk: Don't laugh. The jury's still out on cooties. If we could only get more federal funding...

Mr. Monk Can't See a Thing

[Monk walks into the garage carrying a container of smoke alarms]

Monk: Hey, hey, Karl with a "K."

Karl: Hey, Mr. Monk.

Captain Stockton: Oh, hell, he's back.

Monk: Hey Chucky, you missed a spot. [comes up to the table] Captain, can you believe it's been a year already?

Captain Stockton: You know, Mr. Monk, I told you you can test those smoke alarms at home by yourself.

Monk: Yes, I know but, I'd rather you guys did it. You're the experts, right? [The station's call alarm goes off. Everyone stops what they are doing and immediately runs for the ladder equipment. Someone hands Stockton a slip of paper]

Captain Stockton: House fire, three alarm. Mr. Monk, I'm afraid you're going to have to wait.

Monk: Captain, I was here first.

Captain Stockton: Sir, there is a house burning down five blocks away! Don't you think that should take a priority right now?

Monk: Uhhhh...

Captain Stockton: Don't you?

Monk: I don't know.

First Fireman: Let's go! [The engine starts to drive away]

Monk: OK, but I haven't got all day!

[Monk is having his eyes checked after being attacked by Eddie Murdoch at the firehouse]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: So, how’s it look, Doc?

Dr. Jackman: Uh, okay. The liquid that hit him was a mixture of detergent and muriatic acid. Both of his corneas have been scarred, and there is nerve damage.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Which means what, exactly?

Dr. Jackman: It’s hard to say. Sometimes the tissue grows back by itself, and sometimes it doesn’t.

Natalie: [stroking Monk's shoulder] Shhh…it’s okay, Mr. Monk. [to Dr. Jackman] He’s afraid of the dark.

Dr. Jackman: Well, he might have to get used to it, at least for a while. Excuse me. [She leaves and Randy steps forward]

Lt. Disher: Monk?

Monk: Huh?

Lt. Disher: It’s Randy! I’m speaking to you. I’m standing right in front of you. [Randy waves his hand in front of Monk’s face and squats] Now I’m squatting. I’m about eye-level. I just want you to know that we’re gonna find the man who did this to you. I’m gonna work on this case 24/7. I don’t care how long it takes. Except for May 11th. Uh, my niece is getting confirmed, and there’s a reception the night before, so I’m probably gonna need… [turns to Stottlemeyer] I’m probably gonna need that whole weekend off, actually…

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [sternly] Randy...

Lt. Disher: So from the 11th to the 13th…

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Randy! I didn’t think this was possible, but you’re making this situation worse.

[At Monk's apartment, Natalie is helping Monk put photos of Trudy back onto the fireplace mantle]

Monk: Is it straight?

Natalie: It’s perfect.

Monk: I’ll never see her face again.

Natalie: Mr. Monk, don’t say that!

Monk: Am I crying?

Natalie: No.

Monk: Huh, it feels like I’m crying. It feels like I’m crying all the time. [walks over to the couch and sits down] Natalie, my life is over. Forget about me. You have to move on. Get another job.

Natalie: I am not going anywhere! Look at me! [stops and regains control] Your life is not over! You could still do anything! There’ve been lots of blind people who have done great and amazing things.

Monk: Like who?

Natalie: Like Ray Charles! And, um, you know…

Monk: Yeah?

Natalie: You know…uh, I mean, come on. Uh, um, uh... Mr. Magoo.

Monk: Who’s that?

Natalie: Mr. Magoo? Oh, gosh, he was a great man. Um, an inventor.

Monk: Really?

Natalie: An entrepreneur, if you will. He did lots of amazing, amazing things.

Monk: And he was blind?

Natalie: I don’t wanna talk about Mr. Magoo anymore.

Monk: Me neither.

[Natalie leads Monk to the station and they meet Randy in the hallway]

Natalie: What's so important, Randy?

Lt. Disher: I think we've got him. We just picked up a guy in Rockaway; he was wearing the fireman's coat.

Natalie: Who is he?

Lt. Disher: A guy named Colbert, Jake Colbert. He's a drifter; he lives out by the beach. You think you can ID him?

Monk: Oh, I don't know. Maybe you haven't heard: I am blind.

Natalie: But you'll do the best you can, right? You can't give up just because you've been dealt a bad hand.

Monk: Oh have I been dealt a bad hand? I wouldn't know, because I'm blind! [They meet Stottlemeyer outside the squad room door]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Monk, hey. I like the cane. You look kinda dapper.

Natalie: So you found the guy?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: We found a guy. He's the right height, does not have an alibi, and he was wearing the missing coat.

Natalie: Did his shoes squeak?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Don't know. He was barefoot when we picked him up. But it doesn't matter because we don't need shoes when I've got an eyewitness.

Monk: [following Stottlemeyer into the squad room] So to speak.

Dr. Jackman: I think I have some good news. The optic nerves appear to be healing, and your pupils are starting to dilate. I’m cautiously optimistic. [Monk moans a little bit] Is that how he takes good news?

Natalie: Yeah, it is.

Dr. Jackman: Look, if you could just stick around for a bit, I’d like to show these to my colleagues. Be right back.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Thank you, Doctor. We’ll be here.

Natalie: Isn’t that great? She sounded so hopeful!

Monk: Hope. I hate hope’s guts!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Hey, what happened to all your confidence?

Monk: I don’t know, Leland. Maybe I dropped it when I was screaming for help ten inches off the ground! I’m so pathetic! I’m half the man I was, which was three-quarters of a man, so now I’m…

Lt. Disher: Five-sixteenths of a man.

Monk: Thank you, Randy.

Lt. Disher: Oh, no, wait. Three-eighths of a man.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Hey, would you quit whining? The bad guy [Murdoch]’s on a slab downstairs, we get to go home. In my book, that’s a good day.

Mr. Monk, Private Eye

[Natalie's desk phone rings]

Natalie: Adrian Monk Investigations. What is the nature of your problem?

Monk: I'm being kept in a room against my will.

Natalie: You were kidnapped. Uh, do you know who did it?

Monk: Yes. It's my personal assistant. Her name is Natalie... Teeger.

[the camera reveals that Monk is talking on his desk phone].

Natalie: You can't swim?

Monk: To be honest, I don't know. I mean, I know how... all right, I took a correspondence course.

Natalie: You learned to swim by mail?

Monk: They sent me a little diploma! And, I've got this.

[He gives her a little card from his wallet.]

Natalie: "Swimming Fundamentals: Don't panic; Breathe normally; Flutter kicks..."

Monk: Can I have that back, please?

Natalie: Why would you even take the course? You never go in the water.

Monk: Hello, tsunamis?

[Before jumping off a boat to escape Jay Bennett, Monk quickly consults his card.]

Monk: "Don't panic"—forget that—"Breathe normally, flutter kicks..." [jumps].

[After Natalie hands out Monk's business card]

Monk: You owe me 85 cents.

Natalie: Fine. Take it out of my paycheck.

Monk: Don't think I won't.

Natalie: How'd you get so cheap? Really?!?

Monk: I work for a living! All right? At least I used to. Now I just get bull kelp splashed on me!

Monk: [about his new office] Natalie, you can't afford this.

Natalie: Actually, you're paying for it.

Monk: I can't afford this!

Natalie: Oh yes you can. Remember last month when you got that bonus after solving the Kensington case?

Monk: No.

Natalie: That's because I used it for a down payment.

Monk: Grown ups have a word for that. It's called "embezzlement".

Mr. Monk and the Class Reunion

Monk: Do you still have my invitation?

Natalie: Oh, yes I do. [She pulls Monk's registration form out of her purse] "Adrian 'Captain Cool' Monk"? Who's Captain Cool?

Monk: [strikes a Macho pose] Me. That was my nickname.

Natalie: You were Captain Cool? Why?

Monk: Why do you think?

Natalie: I don't know.

Monk: Why do you think?

Natalie: I don't know!

Monk: Look, I didn’t write the invitation! Did I-

Natalie: Okay! Okay! Well, uh, good luck, and I will see you here at seven o'clock. Okay? [She teasingly strikes a mirror image of Monk's pose] Captain. [She walks away].

[Randy is at his desk. He notices something and rushes into Stottlemeyer's office]

Lt. Disher: Captain? The lapel pin. I just remembered where I saw it.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: When?

Lt. Disher: Just now at my desk.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No I mean... tell me about the pin, Randy.

Lt. Disher: Monk. He's been wearing the same pin all week for his 25th college reunion.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I think you're right. Did the victim go to Berkeley?

Lt. Disher: No, she worked there. She was a nurse at the university clinic for, like, twenty years.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: But she didn't graduate, so this isn't her pin.

Lt. Disher: The killer.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [with realization] It fell off the killer... which means the killer is at the reunion... with Monk?

[Monk and Natalie are in the college cafeteria]

Natalie: Well this looks delicious! So this is where you ate? I mean was this your "hangout"?

Monk: I don't know. Natalie, I-I-I think I've seen enough of this. Let's just go.

Natalie: No! I'm not gonna let you go! You've been looking so forward to this!

Monk: I don't know what I was thinking. These people weren't my friends, okay? They don't even remember me! The truth is, I was invisible. It was Trudy they loved. I was always just "the guy with Trudy," just like you're "the girl with me". [Natalie stops]

Natalie: Mr. Monk, why is your name on this spit-shield? [Cuts to a close-up of Monk's name on a small placard]

Monk: Well, when I was here, there was nothing protecting the food.

Natalie: So you donated all of these? That was so generous of you!

Monk: Well actually, it was more of a lawsuit. Took up a lot of my spare time... [Dianne Brooks sees them and walks over]

Dianne Brooks: Adrian! There you are. We've been looking for you! [Dianne notices Natalie and looks at her suspiciously]

Natalie: Hi, I'm Natalie Teeger. [Natalie and Dianne shake hands]

Dianne Brooks: Hi. Dianne Brooks.

Natalie: I'm his assistant.

Dianne Brooks: Oh! Oh, so you two aren’t… [She points between Monk and Natalie; Natalie smiles, amused]

Natalie: No. [laughs lightly]

Monk: Oh, no. No, no, no, no. No. No. Not…not…no.

Dianne Brooks: Ok. Where are you sitting?

Monk: Uh, we're not...

Dianne Brooks: Kyle and I are right over here. We saved you a seat. Fair warning - we brought a lot of pictures. [They start walking in that general direction]

Natalie: See? You have a friend!

Monk: Not really. She was Trudy's roommate, freshman year.

Natalie: But she saved us a seat!

Monk: Out of pity. These are what we call "pity seats".

Natalie: Mr. Monk, come on! Let's have some fun! [snaps her fingers] You said you were gonna show me your dorm room!

Monk: Well, it's right here. This is it, old #303. Uh-oh! Tie on the doorknob! [A tie is wrapped around the doorknob] My roommate and I did the same thing, it's a code.

Natalie: Yeah, I think I might know about that.

Monk: Yeah, it means, "Don't come in! I'm reorganizing my closet!" [Natalie stares at him incredulously]

Natalie: Your closet?

Monk: Yeah. My roommate in freshman year, Greg, he reorganized his closet, 4-5 times a week.

Natalie: Uh-huh, and did his girlfriend ever come over to help?

Monk: Oh yeah, all the time, they were real neat freaks. I used to tease them about it. "Neat freaks!" [spots something in the student lounge] Oh my God. Oh…my…God! [Natalie moves aside] I…can’t…believe it! [They walk in] He’s still here. Hello, old friend. [Monk walks over to the refrigerator] Remember me? Oh, I knew we’d meet again. It is our destiny. [puts his hand on the freezer door] Natalie, put your hand right there.

[Natalie puts her right hand on the freezer door]

Monk: You feel that? [long beat]

Natalie: No.

Monk: He’s afraid. Step back. Step back. [pulls his hand into his sleeve] I’m going in. [Monk opens the freezer door, and they find the freezer totally frosted over. Natalie turns away, disgusted].

Lt. Disher: Why did he kill the nurse?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: He had no choice! Katherine Rutherford read that note twenty-five years ago. It would have been made public, she would have recognized it!

Natalie: My God, Mr. Monk, he could be doing it right now! [Stottlemeyer and Disher reach the registration station]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: The registration sheets are all gone!

Monk: Oh!

Lt. Disher: Monk, do you have a cell phone number?

Monk: No.

Lt. Disher: Do you know where they stayed?

Monk: [sighs, exasperated] Some hotel!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: There are over 200 hotels in this city, Monk! It’ll take us over five hours to check them all!

Monk: Hold on. Hold on! [rolls his shoulders forward a couple of times]

Lt. Disher: What’s he doing?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: I don’t know. What are you doing?

Monk: The hotel where they’re staying. It was on their registration form.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah? So?

Monk: When Dianne signed in… [flashback to Dianne filling her registration sheet out on Monk’s back] We were standing in line. She wrote…she wrote on my back. [Natalie smiles, realizing what Monk is doing]

Lt. Disher: Can he do that?

Natalie: It's how he met Trudy! It’s his superpower!

Monk: Oh, there’s her name. Home address.

Natalie Teeger: Okay, Mr. Monk, it was near the bottom.

Monk: She has terrible penmanship. Why did it have to be cursive? [makes what almost appear to be spasms as he tries to remember what Dianne wrote] She ordered the prime rib, medium rare.

Natalie: Keep going. It’s just below that.

Monk: Yeah, there’s an L, uh, L-E... Lexus! Is there a Lexus Hotel?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No that’s the car they drove, Monk!

Natalie: Keep going. [Monk finally reaches the section with the hotel name]

Monk: There’s a “P”, “P”, No! “P”, “P”, “B”! “B”! “B”!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: “B”?

Monk: It’s a “B.” It’s a “B.” It’s a “B.” “L.”

Natalie and Capt. Stottlemeyer: Bla…

Monk: “A.”

Capt. Stottlemeyer: The Bla…The Blaza…

Lt. Disher: The Blaza! Plaza!

Monk: B-L-A…The Bla…The Blab…

Capt. Stottlemeyer: The Blakemore Hotel!

Lt. Disher: It’s right up the street! [They take off].

Mr. Monk Gets a New Shrink

[After taking a bullet for Dr. Kroger]

Harold Krenshaw: Monk... Monk... Come here, closer... Beat that!

Monk: I'm Adrian Monk, here to see Dr. Sorenson.

Receptionist: Fill this out.

Monk: It says to list your phobias.

Receptionist: That's right.

Monk: There are only five spaces.

Receptionist: You can use the back.

Monk: I might need another sheet. [she hands him another sheet] I might need another sheet. [she hands him another sheet] I might need another sheet. [she hands him another sheet, and repeats this a few more times].

Dr. Charles Kroger: Adrian, I cannot continue to practice anymore after today. The police think that one of my patients killed Teresa Mueller. I should have seen it coming. I didn't; I missed it. This is all my fault.

Monk: This isn't happening. This can't be happening.

Dr. Kroger: Adrian, I promise you I'll get you another doctor. I'll call you next week.

Monk: Okay! So it's not true! You're not retiring! I mean, you can't because... He can't retire...

Dr. Kroger: [to Natalie] This is step one in the grieving process: denial. [Monk comes back to Dr. Kroger]

Monk: Damn you, Charles! Damn you to hell! I hate you. I hate you! You are dead to me.

Natalie: That's not denial.

Dr. Kroger: No, that's step two, that's anger.

Monk: Okay. Okay, we're all adults here. We can work this out. I can hire you full time, all right? Put you on payroll.

Dr. Kroger: This is step three, the bargaining. It usually doesn't go around this quickly.

Monk: Why me? Why is it always me? Everybody's always leaving me.

Natalie: Depression?

Dr. Kroger: Yeah, step four.

Monk: This can't go on. I mean, it's just too much. Okay, you're right. It's not the end of the world. I'll just have to find another doctor. I owe you so much. Thanks to you, I think I can get past this. Thanks, doc.

Dr. Kroger: And finally, step five, acceptance.

Natalie: Thank God that's over. [Monk walks over to another police officer]

Monk: He can't retire! The man can't quit because he's not a quitter.

Natalie: Wait, what's going on?

Dr. Kroger: I don't know. It's like he's starting all over again, like he's in a loop. [Monk peeps through the window blinds]

Monk: I HATE YOU FOR THIS, KROGER! YOU ARE DEAD TO ME! You understand me? DEAD!

Dr. Kroger: I really should be heading home...

Mr. Monk Goes to a Rock Concert

Natalie: Captain!

Monk: Captain, for the record, this was all her idea. I mean, I wouldn't be here if I couldn't drive or had anything else to do.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: OK, I give up. What is it? [Natalie produces a check]

Natalie: It's a $34 dry cleaning bill to clean the shirt and jacket that Mr. Monk ruined when he ran through the poultry farm to recover the ransom money in the Jimmy Creskow kidnapping case. What are you gonna do about it?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Try to ignore it.

Natalie: No-no-no-no! We've already submitted this twice! It is a work-related expense, and we are entitled to compensation!

Monk: Not my idea.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Look, I couldn't agree with you more. I believe you guys are entitled to every dime you can get, but, there's nothing I can do about it. Lieutenant Disher is the Disbursement Coordinator.

Natalie: Okay, where is he?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Uh, he's not here. He called in sick.

Monk: Is he okay?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You know, he didn't sound too good. He's got a bad fever and he's got a cough.

Monk: With that phlegmy flu thing? [Natalie waves her hands frantically to get Stottlemeyer's attention]

Natalie: Okay-okay! When Randy is not here, who is in charge of payout?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: That would be the Assistant Disbursement Coordinator.

Natalie: And who is that?

Capt. Stottlemeyer:' We don't have one. Is there anything else?

Monk: Nah, that about covers it.

[Stottlemeyer has received a phone call from his ex-wife]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [laughs] My kid, my oldest, has skipped school, and Karen thinks he’s gone to a rock show.

Monk: Oh, I used to do that! Play hooky. Go to rock shows. [Natalie looks at him skeptically]

Natalie: You did?

Monk: All the time.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Anyhow, I've gotta get up there and see if I can find him.

Monk: Okay.

Natalie: Oh, you need some help?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah, you know, I wouldn't mind. [starts towards the door]

Monk: I'll come with you.

Natalie: Are you sure?

Monk: Of course I'm sure!

Natalie: I'm sorry! I just can't picture you at one of these!

Monk: What are you talking about? I used to go all the time. Get a bus into the city and see the Stones.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [walking through the parking lot] Look at this mess! Oh for God's sakes, it's gonna take me all day to find him here! I'm gonna miss a whole day's work! An entire day! Gonna wring his little neck!

Natalie: Captain, he's just a kid! Don't you just want to stay out here for a minute and calm down before you go inside?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No!

Monk: Whoa, whoa, hold on! What kind of rock show is this?

Natalie: It's the biggest festival of the year!

Monk: Festival?

Natalie: [laughs] Wait-wait-wait, Mr. Monk! You thought they were real rocks? Like a geology exhibit, like a museum?

Monk: Maybe. Perfectly understandable mistake.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, not really.

Monk: Okay, well, no harm done. So, I guess I’ll need a ride home.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Monk, I’m not going home without my kid.

Monk: All right, look, I, I, I can’t… [A passerby bumps into Monk]

Passerby: Move it!

Monk: I can’t do it! I, I can’t go in there!

Natalie: Mr. Monk, come on! The Captain needs you!

Monk: But there's-- 10,000 of them, and not even one of me!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Okay, look, I understand, Monk. Why don’t you just go wait by the car?

Monk: Yeah, I’ll go wait by the car.

Natalie: Okay, it’s gonna be a while!

Monk: Yeah, I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me. Take your time. But, but hurry back. But take your time. Hurry back. [trails off; leaving Natalie and Stottlemeyer confused].

[Noticing Randy in the crowd, Stottlemeyer calls him from a few feet away]

Lt. Disher: [feigning illness] Hello?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Hey, Randy. How ya doing, buddy? I-I was worried about you.

Lt. Disher: Captain?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yep?

Lt. Disher: [fake coughs] What time is it? [Long pause]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Oh, I'm sorry! Did I wake you up? [pause] Hey, what's that music I hear?

Lt. Disher: Oh, [fake coughs] it's my stereo. It's broken! I can't turn it down!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: It's LOUD!

Lt. Disher: Listen, Captain, thanks for calling!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Sure.

Lt. Disher: I'm gonna get up now; make myself some soup.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Soup? Yeah soup is good; fluids are good. Drink plenty of fluids.

Lt. Disher: Fluids. Okay, thanks for calling, Captain.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Take care. [Randy hangs up, turns to a woman next to him and says]

Lt. Disher: My boss! [Stottlemeyer puts his hand on Randy's shoulder, and Randy spins around] Whoa. Captain.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Lieutenant.

Lt. Disher: Did you, uh, did you call in sick, too?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, Randy. I'm looking for Jared.

Lt. Disher: Well, here's what happened with me: I was on my way to a doctor, and uh... I got nothing. Let's go find Jared. [takes one last sip of his beer before putting it down and walking away with Stottlemeyer].

[Jared has caught the incriminating ball on top of the scaffolding for one of the speakers]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Good job, son. Give me the ball.

[Kedder climbs the adjoining ladder]

Kris Kedder: No, don’t. Don’t you do it! He’s a cop. What’s your name?

Jared Stottlemeyer: Jared.

Kris Kedder: Jared.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Jared, this is very important! Give me the ball!

Kris Kedder: Hey, man, you do everything the cops tell you? You know, I don’t. I like your shirt.

Jared Stottlemeyer: Thanks, man.

Kris Kedder: You play?

Jared Stottlemeyer: Yeah!

Kris Kedder: Me and you, we should jam sometime.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Jared! Listen to me! If he deflates that ball, we don’t have a case!

Kris Kedder: Dude, he’s trying to set me up because of what I am, what I represent.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: That’s nonsense, Jared! [becoming desperate] You might not like me, but you know me!

Kris Kedder: Hey. You don’t trust cops, do ya?

[long pause]

Jared Stottlemeyer: I trust this one. [throws it to Leland]

Kris Kedder: Don’t, don’t, don’t do it! [Randy handcuffs him]

Lt. Disher: Let's go.

Kris Kedder: Punk!

Mr. Monk Meets His Dad

Holding Cell Inmate: What are you doing?

Jack Monk: I'm speed-reading.

Holding Cell Inmate: What's your rush?

Jack Monk: I'm old.

Holding Cell Cop: Jack Monk, your son is here.

[Jack stands up and sees Stottlemeyer]

Jack Monk: I'm looking at you, but I see your mother.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Uh, no sir, I'm Captain Stottlemeyer. This is Adrian.

Jack Monk: [covering] That man looks just like your mother!

Jack Monk: What I want? Two things. A: forgive me. Forgive your father. I was negligent and I was selfish, and I'm very sorry. And B is: get me the hell outta Dodge. But if you can only do one, I'll take B. I gotta be in Phoenix in the morning.

Monk: He never loved me! He doesn't love anyone except maybe Jack, Jr.!

Natalie: Jack, Jr.?

Monk: His other son! He gave him a bike! I never got a bike!

Natalie: [aside] There's another brother!

Stottlemeyer & Disher: Whoa...

[Jack and Adrian's truck is careening down the hill, out of control.]

Jack Monk: I gotta say something: I'm sorry! I'm sorry I wasn't there for you and Ambrose! I'm so sorry! Oh, I'm a bad father! That's all that matters!

Monk: You're not a bad father! Look at Jack, Jr.!

Jack Monk: He's a putz!

Monk: What?

Jack Monk: Actually, he's not even a putz! He dreams one day of becoming a putz! He lives downstairs in my basement, he smokes pot all day long, he steals money from my wallet!

Monk: He's not a doctor?

Jack Monk: No, I made it all up! I lied! I wanted to have a son I could be proud of! I didn't know I had one in San Francisco.

Mr. Monk and the Leper

[Julie is taking some french fries out of the oven]

Monk: No! Your mom said no junk food. I'm supposed to be babysitting you.

Julie Teeger: Mom said I was supposed to be watching you!

Monk: You are mistaken.

Julie Teeger: Are you getting paid?

Monk: Of course I am.

Julie Teeger: How much?

Monk: I think that is between me and your mother. Are you?

Julie Teeger: $8.50 an hour.

Monk: An hour? [pause] I guess you're the boss.

[Monk is STILL scrubbing his hands the morning after he first meets Derek Bronson]

Monk: Any more soap?

Natalie: That’s it.

Monk: No, I mean, is there any more soap in San Francisco?

Natalie: Mr. Monk, you’ve been scrubbing your hand for nine hours! I’m surprised you have any skin left!

Monk: It’s not coming out. I can still feel it. I think it’s spreading. [Pulls out a can from under the sink]

Natalie: What are you doing? Is that kerosene?! [Monk douses his hand and tosses a match to Natalie]

Monk: Light me!

Natalie: What?

Monk: For the love of God, light me!

Natalie: Okay, Mr. Monk, I’m not gonna light your hand on fire!

Monk: Fine. [Monk goes over to the stove, puts his left hand over his eyes, and screams as he tries to put his hand into a boiling pot. Natalie stops him]

Natalie: You know what? You know what? Get away! You are overreacting, all right! All you did was shake a man’s hand!

Monk: You’re right. You know what? I’m glad it happened. The worst possible thing that could ever happen to me has happened. I shook hands with a leper, and I survived.

Natalie Teeger: Exactly!

Monk: The worst moment of my life is behind me now. [wipes his hand] I’m free. Wait. [rotates a pot handle in his cabinet] Okay, now, I’m free.

Natalie: Actually, Mr. Monk, it’s not completely over. Don’t be mad, but I talked to Mr. Bronson.

Monk: You did what? What?!

Natalie: He called here this morning.

Monk: The leper! He called me? On what phone? On this phone?! [points to the kitchen phone]

Natalie: Yes. [Monk pulls a roll of paper towel, wraps the phone in it, and puts it in the trash] Mr. Monk, you can’t catch anything over the phone!

Monk: Oh, oh, oh, hang on. Now all of a sudden, you’re an expert on lepers?!

Natalie: Okay, you know? Mr. Monk, he’s a nice man, all right? He’s in pain! He was crying his eyes out and…okay, listen to me. He upped his offer: he said he would pay you $25,000. All you have to do is meet him again!

Monk: Natalie, listen. Let me explain something to you: No!

Natalie: That’s it? That’s your argument?

Monk: Okay, let’s go through it. A: whatever he’s asking us to do is probably illegal. "B" through "Z": the man is a leper!

Natalie: You know what, I don’t know anything about leprosy, and neither do you. So, I called a doctor. He’s a specialist. He said we could come in, and talk with him. Let’s just see what he recommends, okay? I mean, it can’t hurt to listen, right? $25,000!

Capt. Stottlemeyer: “Wife claims missing billionaire husband still alive. Probate hearing is set for tomorrow. Former homicide detective Adrian Monk is set to testify.” What the hell is Hansen’s Disease?

Monk: Leprosy. He’s a leper.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Oh my God!

Lt. Disher: I thought they lived in colonies, you know, like in Ben Hur.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: And, uh, you met this guy face to face?

Natalie: Yep. He’s a client, and he called us. He needed our help. Mr. Monk put aside all his fear and prejudice, and offered to do what he could, and I am very, very proud of him.

Monk: I shook his hand. I can still feel it!

Natalie: He’s not at all contagious. We talked to a specialist. Randy, I think you might know him. Dr. Polanski?

Lt. Disher: No.

Natalie Teeger: Aaron Polanski?

Lt. Randy Disher: No, can’t say that I do.

Natalie: Really? Because we thought we saw your picture hanging up in his office.

Lt. Disher: Right. It was a case. I was undercover, posing as a kid, a teenager with bad acne. Captain, you remember that case?

Capt. Stottlemeyer: You’re on your own, Randy.

Monk: It’s still tingling.

Natalie: Well, I’ll tell him you said hi. We’re going out tomorrow night.

[Monk realizes he was conned about a supposed leper]

Monk: Julie, I was duped.

Julie Teeger: A leper-con.

Monk: What?

Julie Teeger: [giggles] Was he magically delicious?

[Natalie bursts in, having come back from her date with Dr. Polanski]

Natalie: Okay, thanks, I'll talk to you later! Bye! [She immediately runs to the sink and turns on the faucet, drinking directly from the flexible tap] Hotter! I need it hotter!

Julie Teeger: Mom, are you okay?

Natalie: I'm fine! [gargles]

Julie Teeger: How was your date?

Natalie: It was great! Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart, I need you to do me something: I need you to go upstairs and fill the bathtub with Listerine! Go-go-go-go-go! [soon, Monk and Natalie are speaking simultaneously]

Monk: Natalie, listen to this!

Natalie: I’ve gotta tell you something!

Monk: We’ve been duped! Are you ready for this?

Natalie: I’ve been duped! Okay, you’re not gonna believe this!

Monk: He’s not a leper!

Natalie: ...He’s a leper! Oh God! [struggles to get a bottle of soap open].

[During the probate hearing]

Nephew's Lawyer: Mr. Monk, is this the man you saw? [shows Monk a photo of a younger Derek Bronson]

Monk: I believe it is.

Nephew's Lawyer: According to your testimony, you only saw him in a dimly lit bar and a parking garage. Hardly ideal conditions.

Monk: It’s true.

Judge Lawrence Barr: Well, Mr. Bronson’s nephews have been waiting a long time for this estate to be probated. I am reluctant to make a decision based on one man’s testimony.

Mandy's Lawyer: Your Honor, Adrian Monk is not just anyone. His memory and powers of observation are legendary.

Judge Lawrence Barr: Well, there’s a lot at stake here. You say he has a great memory. Mr. Monk? Would you mind standing up and turning around? [Monk stands up and turns around] Could you describe my shirt?

Monk: Which one?

Judge Lawrence Barr: "Which one?"

Monk: The shirt you're wearing, or the shirt that your stenographer is wearing? That's your shirt, too, isn't it? You cut yourself shaving - there's a little drop of blood on her collar.

Judge Lawrence Barr: What are you implying?

Monk: You were having a sex affair with her on that couch. The cushions are backwards and one of her earrings fell off. So, it’s right here. Under here. [He walks over to the couch, and picks up the earring in question with his tweezers] She must have torn her blouse. I can see it sticking out of her briefcase.

Judge Lawrence Barr: I’m ready with my decision. I will accept Mr. Monk’s word that he met with Derek Bronson. Therefore, Mrs. Bronson will retain control of the entire estate.

Mr. Monk Makes a Friend

Julie Teeger: [Referring to Monk's new friend, Hal Tucker] I like him.

Natalie: Me, too. I wonder what he's up to.

Natalie: Mr. Monk, I'm your friend.

Monk: Because I PAY YOU!!

Natalie: Not that much.

Mr. Monk Is At Your Service

[Monk is in session with Dr. Kroger; he hands Dr. Kroger a handout]

Dr. Charles Kroger: “Police Announce Hiring Freeze”.

Monk: A hiring freeze, for the next four years! By then, I’ll be too old to be reinstated! So, that’s it: I’ll never be a cop again!

Dr. Charles Kroger: All right, Adrian. I am truly sorry. I know how much reinstatement means to you.

Monk: Only everything! It was my reason for living. That’s all. What do I do now?

Dr. Charles Kroger: I think you go back to what you’ve been doing. Consulting.

Monk: For how long? I haven’t had a new client in weeks! The department hasn’t renewed my contract!

Dr. Charles Kroger: You know, Adrian, I think this is an opportunity for you to make a decision. A very important decision. Now, you can let this news completely depress you.

Monk: Okay. Thank you.

Dr. Charles Kroger: Or, you can look at this like an opportunity. A chance for you to reassess your life. Start over. Do something completely different.

Monk: Different?

Dr. Charles Kroger: Yeah...'different' can be good.

Monk: [unconvinced] Different. Good...(whispers to self) Different? Good?

[pause]

Dr. Charles Kroger: Adrian, it's not too late, you know Winston Churchill did not become prime minister until he was sixty!

Monk: What are you talking about? I'll never become prime minister!

Dr. Charles Kroger: No, no. I'm not saying--

Monk: I don't even live in England; even if I did I, I'd be such a long shot-

Dr. Charles Kroger: Adrian! It’s just an example.

Monk: What do I do now?

[Monk and Natalie check out the crash scene]

Monk: Well this section of the guardrail is new. It must have happened right here. The car was heading west, went off the road here.

Natalie: So you were right, she couldn’t have hit that rock.

Monk: [sighs] It’s hard to tell without seeing the police report. Maybe…maybe the car flipped over! Maybe it spun around.

Natalie: No, I think he did it! I think he killed his parents!

Monk: You really don’t like this guy, do you? What did he ever do to you?

Natalie: You really want to know?

Monk: No. [is distracted by croaking] What is that noise?

Natalie: Oh, frogs. They live in that pond over there. It’s mating season. They go crazy every year. [a frog hops out of the bushes]

Monk: Frog. Frog. Frog. Frog. Frog. Frog. Frog. Frog. Frog. Frog.

Natalie: Are you afraid of frogs?

Monk: I don't know; I've never been this close to one. [A frog hops on his shoe] Yes, the answer is yes. Put frogs on the list. Where's the list?

[Monk is looking around the Buchanans' garage]

Mechanic: [spots Monk] Can I help you? What the hell are you doing?

Monk: Sorry. I…

Mechanic: Are you here for the job interview?

Monk: [improvising] Yes. The interview. Exactly.

Mechanic: Follow me. He’s been waiting for you.

[Cuts to Monk in the living room. Paul Buchanan comes in with a shotgun]

Paul Buchanan: Sorry for the delay. [shows shotgun] This is in case the interview doesn't go well. Just joking; I was just doing a little hunting. [sets his shotgun down and pours himself a drink] All right, so you're here from the agency. Where's your resume?

Monk: I... lost it.

Paul Buchanan: You lost your resume? Well that doesn't bode well, does it? What's your name?

Monk: Adrian....

Paul Buchanan: Adrian? [Monk notices a copy of the book Moby-Dick by Herman Melville lying on a table]

Monk: Melville. Adrian Melville. [Paul notices the cleanliness of the room]

Paul Buchanan: What's with this place? I had friends over last night; the place was a mess.

Monk: While I was waiting, I sort of tidied up.

Paul Buchanan: I'm impressed. Very well done, Adrian Melville.

Monk: Thank you.

Paul Buchanan: Did you do this? [Points to a finished jigsaw puzzle of a city skyline with a rainbow over it on another table]

Monk: Yes, sorry, I couldn't help myself.

Paul Buchanan: What, in 20 minutes? I've been working on this puzzle for a month!

Monk: Sorry, I’ll mess it up again. I think I remember exactly how… [reaches forward, trying to restore the puzzle to the wya he found it]

Paul Buchanan: No, no, no, no, no! I’ve got a couple of stepsisters who think I never finish anything. Well, come on. Sit down. [they sit down in two adjacent chairs] Tell me, Melville. Who have you worked for? Anybody I know?

Monk: Mmm…I don’t think so. Leland Stottlemeyer of the San Francisco.... Stottlemeyers. Randy Disher. Dr. Charles Kroger....

Paul Buchanan: No, I don’t know them.

Monk: And Natalie Teeger.

Paul Buchanan: Natalie? Really? She grew up right down the street. I went to school with her when she was still Natalie Davenport. She had a big crush on me. Wouldn’t leave me alone.

Monk: Is that right?

Paul Buchanan: How does she look? Does she still have that tattoo? [Monk stands up, shocked]

Monk: She has a tattoo?

Paul Buchanan: Well, I guess you wouldn’t have seen it. Not where she put it. [gets up] Look, I’m having a big luncheon on Sunday. A bunch of the old fossils from the family foundation. Do you think Natalie would show up? It’d make the afternoon a lot better.

Monk: I don’t think… [Paul gives him a "yes or no?" look] Maybe.

Paul Buchanan: Well, Adrian Melville, I go with my gut. And my gut likes what it sees. If Natalie Teeger recommends you, that’s good enough for me. Congratulations. You’re my new butler.

Monk: I’m your butler?

Paul Buchanan: Yeah. Come on. I’ll show you around. Your room’s upstairs. Grab that drink. [Monk grabs the tray off the table].

[Paul Buchanan finishes looking at the completed luncheon table that Monk has carefully organized and straightened out]

Paul Buchanan: Well I don't have to remind you about how important these stupid luncheons are! The old bats are gunning for me. They want me to screw up, they expect me to screw up! And I intend- to dissapoint them. Mr. Melville.

Monk: [standing in front of a covered canvas] Thank you. Mr. Pepperidge? [Mr. Pepperidge pulls the tarp off the canvas, revealing a color coded map of the house] I've divided the house into four zones.

Susie the Maid: Mr. Stilson normally has us start in the kitchen.

Monk: [retracts his pointer] Mr. Stilson is no longer with us. So from now on we're going to be cleaning the house my way: the Monk way.

Susie the Maid: Who's Monk?

[long pause]

Monk: You see... I grew up in a monastery. And the monks, were very demanding. We were cleaning constantly, 18 hours a day. Mostly dusting. It was very dusty. Crypts, catacombs, it was holy dust. But still... you know... dust. And that is the Monk way.

Paul Buchanan: Well you heard the man. We'll be doing it the Monk way.

[Paul leads Natalie away from the other hunters]

Paul Buchanan: All right. Give me the page!

Natalie: What?

Paul Buchanan: My father’s journal! You stole a page, give it to me! [Natalie hands Paul the signout sheet page she took from the garage. He tosses her a hunting vest] Put it on!

Natalie: Why?

Paul Buchanan: There’s gonna be an accident. I told you. It happens all the time.

[Monk runs into Paul's hunting buddies and grabs one of their shotguns]

Natalie: Paul, you just…you can’t do this!

Paul Buchanan: Oh, I can’t? Look up there. See that well? Two weeks ago, I shot my butler, and dropped his body in it! [pumps the shotgun] You should’ve gone with me to the prom, Natty! [Monk shows up, weapon in hand]

Monk: Buchanan! Lower the weapon!

Paul Buchanan: Melville?

Monk: Just lower it! [fires at the trees, killing a bird]

Paul Buchanan: Well, you’re fired. That goes without saying. [Natalie uses the opportunity to grab the sheet and shotgun from Paul]

Natalie: Mr. Monk, look, his father kept a journal. He came back before he died.

Monk: That makes sense. It all makes sense now.

Mr. Monk Is On the Air

[Monk and Natalie enter the studio]

Natalie: Hi.

J.J.: Oh, hello.

Max Hudson: Hello, there. Yeah. Who is this?

Monk: This is Natalie. She’s my assistant.

Max Hudson: Ooh, Natalie.

Little Willie: I think I need a little assistance.

Max Hudson: Me like...

Little Willie: I think I need some assistance!

Max Hudson: Give a little twirl, Natalie.

Natalie: No, thank you.

Max Hudson: [as a small sound effect plays on J.J.'s computer] "No, thank you." Okay, she’s feisty! She’s brassy, she’s sassy, she’s got gusto!

Little Willie: Sassy, brassy, but she won’t show her…

Max Hudson: I like it! Doing the neck crank. You can’t see it, ladies and gentlemen. Yeah, I talked to this guy last night. He wants to talk to me about what happened to Jeanette.

Natalie: Why don’t we talk about that after the show?

Max Hudson: You don’t get it, sugarbumps: here is the show. My life is the show. Detective, why don’t you have a seat, please? Somebody give him some headphones, please.

[J.J. hands Monk a set of headphones]'

J.J.: Here you go, buddy.

Monk: I’m okay. It’s okay.

Natalie: Don’t do this!

Little Willie: Come on.

Natalie: Please be careful.

J.J.: This is exciting!

Monk: [snaps his fingers in Natalie's direction] Wipe. Wipe. Wipe. Wipe. Wipe.

[J.J. records and plays Monk's voice back. Monk wipes down his headset]

Max Hudson: Okay, folks, you've got to see this. Uh, first of all, his shirt is buttoned up to his eyeballs, and he’s swabbing out his headphones with a baby wipe.

Monk: This is not a baby wipe. This is…this is an adult wipe.

Max Hudson: Oh, I’m corrected.

J.J.: You've gotta know the difference.

Little Willie: One of those, oh…

Max Hudson: Sorry about that one.

J.J.: Hey, Adrian, let me ask you something. When you go to a crime scene, do you take a police car or a short yellow bus? :[Max claps happily with approval]

Natalie: Mr. Monk, you don’t have to answer that.

Monk: No, no, I’ll be happy to. I’ll be happy to answer that. Natalie drives me.

Max Hudson: Oh, I bet she does. [J.J. plays a sexy woman’s sound. Natalie glares at them, mortified] She’s driving me, baby.

Little Willie: Who’s driving Natalie?

J.J.: Natalie.

Max Hudson: I want to change your tires.

J.J.: Natalie.

Little Willie: I’ll volunteer for that.

[Monk puts a wipe over his microphone, causing static feedback in the jockeys' headsets]

Max, J.J. and Little Willie: Ow! Ow!

Max Hudson: You’re hurting me!

J.J. and Little Willie: Ow! Oooh!

Max Hudson: This guy’s great. He’s possessed.

J.J.:' [raises fist] Yo, Adrian!

[beat]

Monk: Yo.

[The jockeys burst out laughing, until Max signals for them to stop]

J.J.: What is going on there?

Max Hudson: Okay, we just lost a third of our audience. All righty, then! So, just for the record, you’re here because of my sister-in-law?

Little Willie: Loony Linda!

Max Hudson: That’s right, Loony Linda, who thinks I murdered my wife. Isn’t that charming?

J.J.: Adrian, I thought you’d like to know that the last guy who wore those headphones had head lice.

[Monk immediately throws off his headset and runs out of the studio]

Monk: Wipe! Wipe! Wipe! Wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe!

Radio men: Wipe! Wipe! Wipe! Wipe! Wipe! Wipe! Wipe!

[Monk grabs Natalie's purse as he leaves]

Natalie: You should be ashamed of yourselves!

Max Hudson: I agree, I should be. But I’m not! [She walks out of the booth]

J.J.: Oh! And there, we’ve got the view. [Natalie turns around to cast a disgusted look at them before closing the door]

Max Hudson: There she goes. She gave us a twirl.

Monk: I think he's the guy!

Natalie: I do too, at least I hope he is.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Max Hudson, the jerk on the radio?

Monk: According to her sister, his wife had recently started taking sleeping pills, 30 milligrams.

Natalie: Which is the maximum dosage.

Monk: And it was Max's suggestion.

Natalie: He called the doctor personally to get the prescription!

Monk: Here's what happened: Max is out of town, it's a perfect alibi. He knows his wife will be taking those pills, so she's out cold- [In the background, Randy is trying to contain his laughter]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [glares at Randy] Is something funny?

Lt. Disher: S-sorry.

Monk: He knows his wife won't be waking up, so he has one of his guys-

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Randy? Do you wanna share it with the rest of the class?

Lt. Randall Disher: Sorry. I heard you on the show. You really got zung!

Natalie: [offended] Oh my God, you listen to that creep?!

Lt. Disher: I think he’s great…ting. It’s grating.... [starts to stammer] Degrading. Degrading to women. I keep listening, hoping he’ll grow up, but he never does.

[Max Hudson comes home to find the police outside his house and Randy on the front driveway]

Max Hudson: What, uh…what’s going on?

Lt. Randall Disher: Well I could tell you, but Adrian Monk wants to tell you himself. He’s upstairs. After you. [Cuts to Max entering the bedroom, where Monk, Natalie, Linda Riggs, and Stottlemeyer are waiting for him]

Max Hudson: Linda? Uh-huh. I don’t know the legal definition of harassment, but this is pretty close. [Stottlemeyer hands Max a paper]

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Mr. Hudson, that’s a search warrant. You’ve been duly served.

Max Hudson: Ah, sure, okay. Knock yourself out. You’re just embarrass yourselves, again.

Monk: It’s over, Max. We know how you did it. We know what you were doing every day at 2:00 PM.

Natalie: You were next door!

Max Hudson: That’s right, I was. I was house sitting. I was watering their plants.

Max Hudson: Nah, you were training their dog.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: We replayed the tape of the show you made the morning your wife died. That was the day you introduced your new catchphrase, “Jangle my tenders.”

Lt. Disher: “Jiggle me timbers," sir.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Jiggle me timbers.

Lt. Disher: You never said it before that day or since. I’m a big fan. Well, I was. Unless you’re not guilty, in which case, we’re all really sorry about all this. Although, I’m pretty sure you’re guilty. But if you’re not, I’m sorry.

Max Hudson: This is insane.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, it’s easy enough to prove. [picks up a walkie-talkie and speaks into it] Let’s do it.

[Cuts to a police officer talking to the next door neighbor while carrying a portable radio. He presses play]

Max Hudson: [on tape] ...Friday and, by the way, I saw it last night. Jiggle me timbers! [The dog takes off and darts through the dividing hedge]

Little Willie: [on tape] Hey Max, where did you get that? “Jiggle me timbers”…

Mr. Monk Visits a Farm

[Monk is visibly uncomfortable as he watches Randy unloading hay bales off the truck for storage in the shed]

Lt. Disher: You okay?

Monk: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m fine. It’s just, you know, everything. The earth and the outdoors. All the animals. Animal byproducts.

Lt. Disher: Well, you know, all the food you eat comes from farms just like this.

Monk: Not anymore. Not as of the last 23 minutes.

Lt. Disher: Well, I love it. I used to come up here every summer helping Uncle Harvey run the place. I still can’t believe it’s all mine. It’s all mine. It’s my farm. I own a farm. I’m the Farmer in the Dell. [Oates arrives]

Farmhand Oates: I got that tractor running.

Lt. Disher: Was it broken?

Farmhand Oates: Since Tuesday.

Lt. Disher: But it’s working now? Good. Good. Good man, Oates.

Farmhand Oates: You feed the jerseys?

Lt. Disher: Yes. Yes, I did.

Farmhand Oates: Today?

Lt. Disher: No, not today exactly.

Farmhand Oates: They gotta be fed every day! Animals eat every day! I’ll do it. Jesus… [starts to leave, but Randy stops him].

[While Monk is examining the fenced off area of Belmont's farm, Belmont comes along carrying a shotgun]

Jimmy Belmont:' Señor Monk.

Monk: Si. [Belmont asks him something in Spanish] Si.

Jimmy Belmont: Si?

Monk: Si.

Jimmy Belmont: I just asked if you got a squirrel in your pants. [Monk struggles to make a Spanish response] You don’t speak any Spanish, do you?

Monk: Some. High school.

Jimmy Belmont: You want to tell me what you’re doing back here?

Monk: No.

Jimmy Belmont: You know, there are no secrets in a town like this. I know all about you, Former Detective Adrian Monk. I heard you were dancing with Sheriff Butterfield last night. Badly. Heard you were asking about me. Well, here I am. Now, you want to ask me something, you go right ahead.

Monk: Okay, what’s back there? Let me guess. Fields of reefer.

Jimmy Belmont: Fields of reefer? What kind of cop were you?

Monk: You know what I mean: Ditchweed. Boo. The old Ali Baba.

Jimmy Belmont: What makes you think that I’d actually-

Monk: Magic Dragon. Bambalachi. Yellow Submarine. Black Bart. Doctor Giggles. Kentucky Blue. You know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about Railroad Weed! That’s right. The Devil’s Parsley. Skunk, Splim, Splam, Mooster. Side Salad.

Jimmy Belmont: Side Salad?

Monk: You’ve been supplementing your income. What do you have? About four or five acres of marijuana back there? Harvey Disher found it, and he was threatening to turn you in. [Belmont cocks his shotgun] You killed him.

Jimmy Belmont: Did I? How? See, Harvey Disher’s truck went off the road at 10:30pm. That’s a fact. Hit the electric fence. Everybody saw the lights go out. I was in the dance hall. Half a mile away. In front of fifty witnesses. Now, you think you got enough for a search warrant? [Monk doesn't respond] Yeah, I don’t, either. Not in this county. It’s time you were headed home, Former Detective Adrian Monk. Front gate’s that way. Go on ahead. Go on. Go. [Monk leaves].

[Oates is outside on the porch, and looks up to see Monk handcuffing himself to the grain drill]

Farmhand Oates: Mr. Monk?

Monk: Oates? Oates! Thank, God! Where’s Randy?

Farmhand Oates: He’s asleep. I can’t help but noticing that you’re handcuffing yourself to that grain drill.

Monk: I inhaled some reefer.

Farmhand Oates: I got you.

Monk: It’s gonna kick in any minute.

Farmhand Oates: Okay.

Monk: Here’s the thing. I can’t tolerate any drugs or medications. It’s my metabolism. I don’t know what…I don’t know what’s gonna happen to me. I might go berserk! I might hurt somebody. Oates, dude…here. Here. [Monk throws the handcuff keys to Oates] Listen, whatever happens, don’t unlock me. NO MATTER WHAT I SAY! Even if I’m begging you! Oh, my God. Here it comes! Oh, God! I think it’s starting!

Farmhand Oates: We’re talking about marijuana, right?

Monk: UH-OH! [stands up, and starts shaking, and jumping around] RIVERDANCE! Oh! Oh! I can feel it! I’m getting hungry!

Farmhand Oates: Did you have dinner? Got some pecan pie in the fridge.

Monk: IT'S THE MUNCHIES! Oates, whatever you do, don’t put anything near my mouth!

Farmhand Oates: Can do! But I gotta say, you know, I’ve had some experience in this area, and I don’t think you’re stoned at all.

Monk: No! Oh, no! I SEE LIGHTS FLICKERING!

Farmhand Oates: Yeah. They’re fireflies. [The sprinklers start spraying water, and Monk gets drenched]

Monk: What was that? What was that?!

Farmhand Oates: It’s 8:00! Irrigation sprinklers. [Monk suddenly calms down]

Monk: Do they come on every night all over the property?

Farmhand Oates: Every night.

Monk: Oates. I know how he did it. I know how Belmont killed Randy’s uncle. Get me out of this.

Farmhand Oates: Okie doke. One minute you're hand-cuffing yourself to a piece of farm machinery, sobbing like a schoolgirl, the next minute you're putting all the pieces together like Sherlock Holmes. Which is the real Adrian Monk?

Monk: Yeah, I like to think that a man is made up of many different–

Farmhand Oates: I think it's the schoolgirl.

Monk: Yeah, you're probably right.

[Monk sneaks into Randy's bedroom and disguises his voice as the motivational CD Randy is listening to, after turning it off]

Monk: [in a low voice] Randy. You were right. Belmont killed your uncle.

Lt. Disher: Killed my uncle.

Monk: Here’s what happened.

[cuts to the sun rising on the horizon. Randy walks to the kitchen, where Monk and Oates are waiting for him]

Lt. Disher: Morning. Any coffee left?

Farmhand Oates: Got a full pot. How’d you sleep?

Lt. Disher: Well, fine, I guess. [Randy goes to the fridge, and smells the cream] Ew, it’s sour. What kind of farm is this? We don’t even have any fresh cream! [He walks out of the kitchen. He slaps his head. Monk glances at him to see if Randy has figured out everything that was fed to him in his sleep]

Monk: Randy, what is it?

Lt. Disher: Mosquito. So, fill me in, what happened on Belmont’s farm?

Monk: Not much to tell. It was a dead end. How, how about you? Any new thoughts on the case?

Lt. Disher: No. [Suddenly, Randy stops with a surprised look on his face]

Monk: What? What is it?

Lt. Disher: No. It’s nothing. Wait! Wait. Wait a minute. Oh, my God. Oh my God! [walks over and takes a figurine pig off one of the shelves] Oh, my God. Monk, call the sheriff. I think I solved the case.

[Randy gives the Monk-fed summation on how Belmont killed Harvey Disher]

Lt. Disher: It was a perfect alibi, and that is how you did it, Mr. Belmont.

Deputy Lenny Hatcher: Um, I’m not following.

Monk: Randy, I don’t think you’re quite done. You mentioned that part about the… [imitates sprinklers running] Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch. Sprinklers.

Lt. Disher: Yes! I’m not done yet. The sprinklers! [In a black-and-white flashback, the sprinklers go on, and the salt licks that have propped up the rear wheels on Harvey's truck melt, and the truck rolls forward] At 8:00, the sprinklers kicked on and melted the blocks of salt. [The truck runs straight into the electric fence, causing several sparks from a short-circuit] Touchdown. [The lights in the dance hall flicker] When the lights flickered, you were half a mile in front of fifty witnesses. [Flashback ends] That’s the prettiest piece of homicide I’ve ever encountered. Where were you?

Monk: I…I guess I just…I don’t know.

Lt. Disher: I understand. You’re in a slump. Don’t worry. I’ve been there. Just give it time. You’ll be back.

Deputy Lenny Hatcher: It would explain a lot.

Sheriff Margie Butterfield: It would explain everything. Including the deer: They were licking the salt.

Jimmy Belmont: Now that is a nice story. See that’s all it is. [advances on Randy to the point of getting in his face] Where’s your proof? Physical proof. You don’t have any, do you?

Monk: I think he’s right. [Randy suddenly has an epiphany]

Lt. Disher: Sheriff, do you have an evidence bag? Monk, your pen. [He takes both and walks over to the driver's side door of the truck] This truck was never touched or moved, right? [He uses the pen to remove the keys from the ignition, and then breathes air onto it, revealing a fingerprint] Yes. That’s a fingerprint. See that? [to Belmont] If this is your fingerprint, it means that you were the last person to operate that vehicle. Is that proof enough?