Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I ain't seen some of these faces in so long, thought they were dead.
I'm out.
two bouts of endocarditis...
-What'd he look like? -Who?
Look, they're bringing in Roberts.
Does he think I can just pull it out of my ass?
God knows what else he's got that we don't know of.
Them two is freaks.
does anybody have 24 hours...
I'll remember.
Fair? What the fuck is fair?
Ma'am, please, don't be afraid.
Shit is tight, man.
-Drug court? -Shake it off in treatment...
but I ain't never put my gun on nobody who wasn't in the game.
and you got to do something with that other case...
I was in Southwestern before I came to Homicide.
Come on, kid.
Madame fucking LaRue?
I know one thing, when you all run up on him, you all best be more...
You gonna at least give me a fair chance, right?
No, Lindsey. Martin Lindsey.
For the rest, I'd pretty much need B of I photos.
and a stamp collection that my granddad left me.
-What stopped him? -Daniels.
-1 2-14. -What's up?
You got it.
Your professional demeanor and your overall competence...
-What? -What?
Come here.
Kima? He keeps this up, she'll cut his ass.
Prayed for his killer with the knife still in him.
Okay.
They're offering weight, Dee.
These are the guys that saved your ass, right here.
What's up?
-Move, motherfucker. -White man walking!
I bet you've heard that song 500 times, but you never knew, right?
I said, "Waylon, you're doing good."
Four hash marks in a row, one for each G-pack...
Must've said something to him, because he turned around before he got shot.
-He all the way down. -Is down to scraps on the last package.
No, man, nothing but these pagers and them pay boxes over there, that's it.
Boy Wonder, why don't you suck my bat-dick?
Fuck you, fat man.
All right?
Shit, I'd wire that weak-ass thing back on itself...
Who you talking?
If you're here...
Last year, your clearance rate was 40%. This year, it's less than that.
I don't joke when it comes to Madame LaRue.
-The judge will be in shortly. -Can I take the file?
the Franklin Terrace.
-1 2-08. -12-08.
Another 10 years of this nonsense, and I see you wearing the robes...