You're not going to believe this, but... (The man pauses for dramatic effect.) ... police officers! Yes sir, solving crimes, locking up bad guys and... *AND* get this... and *not* getting their drink on at two o'clock.
Don't make this about Lieutenant Kitsuragi. He's a *great* cop -- and you almost got him killed. I don't even understand why you're *here* after he got shot.
God... (He sighs.) There are four wings, Harry: A, B, C, and D. We're in C. It's made of losers and clock-punchers. You and I *re-conceptualized* it as a task force. It was a mistake.
(‟Contact Mike is a reprise of the most inspiring basic sporting principle of open competition! A 5,000-1 rank outsider!”) Oh -- you don't say? (He arches an eyebrow.) Does he also *vault an impassible gulf of finance and privilege*?
I can believe that. Not the *detective* part, that's a tall order, but that he fucked with us. This is typical Harry behaviour. A sick joke. I told you, Jude.
Perfect, great, I don't give a shit! (He shakes his head.) Now leave us alone and do your thing... and I don't mean get drunk and piss yourself, right? You realize that, don't you?
What is this, a joke? We *will* dump you, Harry. We will leave you here -- you'll be just another bum on the coast. This is a *trial*. Stop fucking around.
God... (He sighs.) There are four wings, Harry: A, B, C, and D. We're in C. It's made of losers and clock-punchers. You and I *re-conceptualized* it as a task force. It was a mistake.
