Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Darryl, breathe.
I need your bike. Sergeant Riggs, call it in. I need a couple clips too.
-You don't recognize my face? No, sir.
Yeah.
I think maybe l slept with someone that I probably shouldn't have.
Hold on, Riggs! Hold on!
Ah, shit.
This could be a serious ethical breach here.
Do you mind, huh? Thanks.
-Damn it. Didn't know there was one...
Do any of you know a Mr. Travis?
You find the man that put the gun in my son's hand.
There's policemen at every exit, so it's no use trying to run.
-You'll be here two days. -That Leo's chart?
-All right. Listen. -Yeah.
-No. No, no, no. -Come on.
Anything but a gun. Here we are, busting our asses on the streets...
Right? Good. Why don't we start to act like it, huh?
-When you-- Yeah. -Hey, hey. Riggs, let's go.
-Your friends. -Yeah.
Call 91 1 .
Haven't seen him around in a while.
-He's a friend of mine, a policeman. -Yeah, we're both here to visit--
Hey, how you doing, son? Your mother know you're here?
-Oh, God. -Ah!
...because they took the automatics and left the junk behind.
When's somebody gonna cover me for a change?
Get out of here, before my partner kills you! Go that way, not that way!
What are you talking about?
chew on this onion
-Look at that. -lt's a knife.
-Riggs, you here? -Calm down.
-We're trying to work here. -Okay.
Installed them six months ago.
-l'm thinking we should cut the blue wire. -Wait!
Diaper rash makes you cranky, huh?
-License for jaywalking? -Yeah, jaywalking.
-Hey, can l borrow your glasses? -Yeah.
Happy Retirement Wayne!
...to get these weapons out of circulation and now they're headed right back out.
-We're in the middle of a case. -Yeah.
You can get us a cup of coffee.
-Bomb squad's on their way. -There's no bomb.
Nearly a cat-tastrophe, huh? Heh.
I hope you don't blame me.
l apologize to everybody. -Don't push him.
Well, we gotta work. Come on. Let's go.
I got no dispute. l just came over to open the door for you.
Riggs! Riggs!
I don't hear a "thank you."
-l don't care. -Yes, you do.
We're gonna stay in this termite-infested turkey for another 1 0 years.
-That's classified. -Classi--?
That great? Come on.
Hi, fellas. What's in all these boxes?
Like, uh....
No, you're not. Rog, don't do this to yourself, all right?
Who sent you? Trish?
Want one? Want one? You hungry? Huh?
Stay there. That shit works, Riggs. Riggs!
Hey word Riggs
-Which phone can I use? -Uh, sunroom. Sunroom.
But you and me, Smitty, we're gonna start over.
Oh!
We'd like you to come back.
Stop!
You got three days until you retire. This is not gonna do you any good.
MAC-1 0, 9 mm, semi-automatic...
Hey, how about treating your dad to breakfast today, okay?
Oprah should see this.
But I need valves
You purposefully withheld information concerning a case under my investigation.
Hello?
She's probably on the take too. What do you take me for?
Hey, Riggs! Hey, Riggs!
You have to sign the contract before the suckers change their mind.
-Hold still. -Yeah.
Tomorrow you have lunch with me, but I'm not paying.
Oh, yes, you do. We all have problems. You help me...
Hmm?
-That'd be too easy. -Yeah.
-Employee problems. You know how it is? -Yeah, right.
After all the shit we've been through, don't you get it?
I accessed Billy Phelps' phone records on my computer.
We should go to Evidence, pull every file on this guy.
You got anything l can put on my head?
We're looking for a friend of yours, Travis.
Shit.
Let's get out of here! Step on the gas.
The Phelps case has been transferred to Internal Affairs.
Hold it right there, pal. Step up here, please.
Well, it's obvious Murph was never a Boy Scout.
-No, you're not. Yes, l am.
Get back! Take cover!
I'm smoking to take my mind off my dog-biscuit problem.
-Where's the seats? -Yeah.
World of computers, Murph. World of computers.
...claiming the lives of our children be lifted by your grace...
Hey, Becker, how's it hanging?
-Permit? -You know what l'll do? Hold it.
Guess you can't teach an old dog new tricks.
Stop that shit. Cut it out.
Okay, anyway, look. Like the drapes? Maybe she'll leave the drapes.
Observe.
-l got a job, fuck-o. -Shut up. Who asked you?
-You ought to learn to trust your instincts. -Oh, God.
Understand what l'm saying?
Keep singing, baby. Just stay close.
-Hey, hey, hey. Old dog, my ass, huh? -Yeah?
You look like l feel.
This gentleman saw the device.
-Tell me. -Know what? This is ridiculous.
One got stuck in my lung. I was breathing blood bubbles. Disgusting.
-You don't wanna hear it. -No, no. I'm here. l'm here.
-Fresh ones, huh? -Oh, yeah. Shaving cuts.
I killed that boy.
Why don't you cut out this classified bullshit?
Twice he got away. Nobody gets away from me!
-Need some help? An old fella like you-- -l'll show you a fella my age.
What's wrong with you? I said go on three, not two.
-Don't touch anything. -l wasn't. l didn't--
-Stay behind me. -Come on, let's go.
Nothing to do.
Hit me again, huh? You think I'm afraid of you?