Better Call Saul (season 1)

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The following is a list of quotes from the first season Better Call Saul.

Uno [1.01][edit]

Saul/Jimmy: Oh, to be nineteen again! You with me, ladies and gentlemen? Do you remember nineteen? Let me tell you, the juices are flowing. The red corpuscles are corpuscling, the grass is green, and it's soft, and summer's gonna last forever. [Chuckles, inhales sharply] Now, do you remember? Yeah, you do. [Clears throat] But if you're being honest...I mean, well, really honest, you'll recall that you also had an underdeveloped nineteen-year-old brain. Me, personally, I were held accountable for some of the stupid decisions I made when I was nineteen... [chuckling] Oh, boy, wow. And I bet if we were in church right now, I'd get a big "amen!" Which brings us to these three...Now, these three knuckleheads. And I'm sorry, boys, but that's what you are. They did a dumb thing. We're not denying that. However, I would like you to remember two salient facts. Fact one: nobody got hurt, not a soul. Very important to keep that in mind. Fact two: Now, the prosecution keeps bandying this term "criminal trespass." Mr. Spinowzo, the property owner, admitted to us that he keeps most portions of his business open to the public both day and night. So, trespassing? That's a bit of a reach, don't you think, Dave? Here's what I know: These three young men, near honors students all, were feeling their oats one Saturday night, and they just went a little bananas. [Chuckles] I don't know. Call me crazy, but I don't think they deserve to have their bright futures ruined by a momentary, minute, never-to-be-repeated lapse of judgment. Ladies and gentlemen, you're bigger than that.

[Leaving the courthouse parking lot, Jimmy pulls up to the attendant's booth and hands his ticket to the attendant]
Mike: [clears throat] Three dollars.
Jimmy: Uh, I’m validated, see the stickers?
Mike: Well, I see five stickers. You’re one shy. It’s three dollars.
Jimmy: [sighs] They gave me– look. [sighs] I’m validated for the entire day, okay? Five stickers, six stickers – I don’t know from stickers, because I was in that court back there saving people’s lives, so... [Mike rolls his eyes]
Mike: Well, gee, that’s swell. And thank you for restoring my faith in the judicial system. Now you either pay the three dollars, or you go back inside and you get an additional sticker. [hands back Jimmy's parking ticket]
Jimmy: [mutters angrily] Son of a bitch. [scoffs] Fine. [takes parking ticket] You win. Hooray for you! [scoffs] [yells loudly at the driver behind him] Backing up! I have to back up! I need more stickers! Don’t have enough stickers! Thank you! Thank you, very nice!
[Jimmy backs up his car, then drives and parks it next to a fence and a yellow barrier. He gets out of the car and shuts the door.]
Jimmy: Employee of the Month over here! Yeaaah! [claps his hands] Hooray! Give him a medal! [to two police officers standing at a distance] Don’t do anything, fellas. Just relax, all right?

Jimmy: You have meddled with the primal forces of nature, Mr. Hamlin, and I won't have it!!
Howard: [pause] What can we do for you, Jimmy?

[Jimmy accidentally runs over a skateboarder on his way home. He panics and gets out of the car]
Lars: Oh God, oh God, oh God! Oh my God, Cal! Cal! Look at me! Are you okay?! Say something! [to Jimmy] What did you do?!
Jimmy: I...
Lars: What did you do to my brother?! Why don't you look where you're going?!
Jimmy: I was making a turn, he came outta nowhere!
Lars: You freakin' hit him, man! You ran him over! You ran over my brother, [holds up video camera] I got the whole thing on video!
Cal: Listen! It was an accident. It was an accident, he...he didn't mean to. [tries to get up and yells in pain]
Lars: Is it broken? [to Jimmy] You broke his leg! Why are you driving around and not lookin', driving around breaking people's legs!
Jimmy: Okay, okay!
Lars: Somebody call the cops!
Jimmy: Don't–don't call the police! Don't call the police!
Lars: [to two gardeners in Spanish] Policia! I'll call them myself. [starts dialing his phone]
Jimmy: Don't call the police!
Lars: Don't call the cops?
Jimmy: No!
Lars: How are you gonna fix this? What are you gonna do to make things right?
Jimmy: [long pause] I don't know, fellas. What can I do to make it right?
[The skateboarder twins look at each other briefly]
Cal: I don't know. [pause] Five hundred dollars.
Jimmy: Five hundred bucks? [another pause; Jimmy kicks Cal in the shin]
Cal: OW! What the hell, man?!
Jimmy: Listen, Starlight Express, I’m gonna give you a 9.6 for technique, 0.0 for choice of victim! I’m a lawyer! Furthermore, [points at his car] does this steaming pile of crap scream payday to you, huh?! The only way that entire car is worth $500 is if there’s a $300 hooker sitting in it! Now, let’s talk about what you owe me for the windshield.
[The skateboarders grab their skateboards and run away from Jimmy]
Jimmy: I'll take a check!

Jimmy: Let me tell you about a young guy. Actually, he's about your age. He lived a long way from here, in a town called Cicero, Illinois. And in Cicero, he was the man. I mean, when he strolled down the street, all the corner boys would give him the high five, all the finest babes would smile at him and hope that he would smile back. They called him Slippin' Jimmy, and everybody wanted to be his friend.
Skateboarders: "Slippin' Jimmy?" What the hell kind of name is that?
Jimmy: Well, I'll tell you now. Winters in Cicero are murder. You guys grown up out here in the golden west – you don't know, okay? I'm talking cold that'll freeze the snot right in your nose. I'm talking wind that'll cut through your jacket and carve you up like a Ginsu knife. In fact, most folks in Cicero were scared of winter. But not Jimmy. Jimmy waited around all summer. And when September finally rolled around, he'd feel that first cold wind come sweeping off Lake Michigan. He knew it was coming. Was it Christmas? Was it Kwanzaa? Better. It was slip-and-fall season. Soon as it was cold enough, he'd find a nice smooth patch of ice. State Street was good, Michigan Avenue was better. He'd pick a spot, wait for it to get busy, and he'd walk out on the ice and boom! He would diff it so hard, people would come running from five blocks away.
Skateboarders: Yeah, but did he collect?
Jimmy: Did he collect? Slippin' Jimmy had it dialed in. One good fall, he'd clear six, eight grand. That'd keep him in Old Milwaukee and Maui Wowie right through Labor Day.

[Jimmy is standing at a street corner with two skateboarders, planning a slip and fall scheme]
Jimmy: Betsy Kettleman’s her name. Every weekday between 2:25 and 2:50, she comes through here on her way to pick up her kids at Kit Carson Elementary. Now, you need a place where she’s gonna slow down, am I right?
Skateboarders: Yeah.
Jimmy: All right. Well. There you go. She slows down. She hangs a right. You come shooting out of there. You did what you did to me. You go ass over teakettle. You make it a blue-ribbon special. When she gets out of the car, you’re sufferin’ St. Sebastian, right? You’re the hammer, okay? You get in her face. You scare the bejesus out of her. Give me your phone. [Jimmy inputs his number]
Skateboarders: It’s kind of busy here. Don’t you think?
Jimmy: Well, witnesses are good. Witnesses are pressure. All right? Now, once you’ve got her good and rattled, then you call for an ambulance. But really, you’re calling for me. I'm number one on your speed dial, right next to your weed dealer. [Saul hands back the phone] You call me. I hotfoot it over here. I just "happen" to be driving by. I stop to see what the trouble is. And this is the most important part – you don’t know me. We’ve never met. You got it?
Skateboarders: Sure.
Jimmy: Okay. Now, I’m Mrs. K’s white knight. We go mano a mano. You light into me, okay? Get nasty. And no touching. Leave the hair alone. But otherwise, you know, open season. Yell. Stomp. Call me a douchebag. I’m gonna play it cool. Give me back some of the razzmatazz and once she’s seen the fireworks, you fold like a lawn chair – happy ending.
Skateboarders: When do we get our money?
Jimmy: After.
Skateboarders: After.
Jimmy: After. You get paid when I get paid. I’m the rising tide that raises all dinghies. Now, pop quiz – what’s the car?
Skateboarders: Mercury Sable wagon. Baby-poop brown.
Jimmy: Okay. Do you know me?
Skateboarders: No.
Jimmy: Damn straight. Go with God.

Mijo [1.02][edit]

[At the desert, Tuco interrogates Jimmy who is on his knees, pleading for his life.]
Tuco: You know what I smell. I smell lies. I smell pork. [Tuco places a wire cutter on Saul's finger]
Jimmy: No. That’s not necessary.
Tuco: Okay, we know you’re with the heat. The question is, who? Local? FBI?
Jimmy: No, no, no.
Tuco: DEA?
Jimmy: No, I’m a lawyer. Just reach in my pocket right now – right there!
[Tuco takes a matchbook out of Jimmy's pocket, looks at it and throws it away.]
Tuco: Truth.
Jimmy: That is the truth! I’m a lawyer! Guys, I passed the bar! Ask me anything! Not contract law, okay? I’m down at the court every day! People know me. I’m a known quantity – I am!
[Tuco applies more pressure on the wire cutter.]
Jimmy: I’m – I’m Special Agent Jeffrey Steele, FBI.
Tuco: FBI?
Jimmy: FBI. I’m undercover, okay? You got me. I’m the tip of the spear, and releasing me would be a smart move.

[Jimmy attempts to convince Tuco to spare the skateboarders.]
Jimmy: When I was at your abuelita’s place, you were gonna let them go. Way I see it, that’s because you’re tough, but you’re fair. You’re all about justice.
Tuco: That’s what I am saying – justice.
Jimmy: These – these two shit-for-brains? These two big-mouths? You – you already beat the living hell out of them. Do you think they’re ever gonna forget today? Never – 10 years from now, they’re still gonna be crapping their jockeys.
Tuco: It’s not enough.
Jimmy: Okay, okay. Then let’s talk proportionally. They’re guilty – oh, agreed. Now you have to decide what’s the right sentence?
Tuco: Like a judge.
Jimmy: Like a judge. Ever heard of the Code of Hammurabi – let the punishment fit the crime, eye for an eye?
Tuco: Eye for an eye. You want me to blind them.
Jimmy: No, no. All they did was trash-talk.
Tuco: So I cut their tongues out!
Jimmy: Wait. See, I’m advising that you make the punishment fit the crime.
Tuco: Punishment fit the crime. Columbian neckties – I cut their throats, and then I pull their lying tongues through the slits! Biznatch!!!
Jimmy: Or you – you could give them black eyes.
Tuco: Black eyes? [Laughs] That ain’t nothing.
No Doze: That one there, homes – he already got a black eye, fool.
Tuco: [turns to No Doze] Stop. Helping.
Jimmy: Or you could sprain their ankles.
Tuco: Sprain?
Jimmy: They’re – they’re skateboarders, right? That – that’s how they run their scam. They can’t skate. You – you hit them where they live.
Tuco: I ain’t spraining nothing, bitch. I’m gonna break their arms. And I’m gonna break their legs.
Jimmy: Arms? When – when did we get on to arms? Lets...
Tuco: I’m cutting their legs off.
Jimmy: But – we could go that way. But – we were talking about breaking. I think we’re heading the wrong direction.
Tuco: Okay. Break their legs.
Jimmy: How many legs?
Tuco: Two – they got two legs.
Jimmy: One leg – each.
Tuco: One leg – each?
Jimmy: They’re... One leg each, that’s a total of two legs. Uh, hey, look. They can’t skateboard for six months, and they are scared of you forever. You show everybody that you are the man, but that you’re fair, that you’re just.
[Tuco shakes Jimmy's hand and proceeds to break the skateboarders' legs.]

[Jimmy helps the skateboarders onto wheelchairs.]
Skateboarder: You– you are– you are the worst lawyer– the worst lawyer ever!
Jimmy: Hey, I just talked you down from a death sentence to six months' probation. I'm the best lawyer ever.

Jimmy: Welcome, welcome. My office is being painted. Please excuse the temporary, uh...[sees his client is Nacho]...quarters.
Nacho: Wow. Cozy. [Jimmy looks behind him] Just me. Heh, Tuco freaked you out, huh? It's cool. He doesn't know I'm here.
[Jimmy and Nacho sit down]
Jimmy: So uh... what can I do for you?
Nacho: I've been thinking about what you said, out there in the desert. Those people you were trying to scam, how much did they steal?
Jimmy: Um...north of a million and a half bucks, I think?
Nacho: So. They have a million and a half bucks somewhere... in what, cash?
Jimmy: I don't, uh- why are you asking me?
Nacho: I'm gonna rip them off.
Jimmy: ...Oh.
Nacho: I like ripping off thieves, 'cause they can't go to the cops; they have no recourse.
Jimmy: Mmm.
Nacho: You point me at where they have their cash, I'll pay you- uh, what do they call it?- a finder's fee. Call it 10%, 100 large.
Jimmy: ...Wha- why would you come to me for that?
Nacho: You already tried ripping them off, I'm gonna finish what you started.
Jimmy: I wasn't trying to rip them off, I-I just wanted their business.
Nacho: Okay? [chuckles]
Jimmy: I don't know where their money is.
Nacho: Smart guy like you can figure it out. Find out what I need to know, nobody gets hurt. We rip them off, easy money.
Jimmy: Hey, look- I'm a lawyer, not a criminal.
Nacho: [snickers] You are shitting me.
Jimmy: I crossed a line. I made a mistake. I'm not doing that again. Not ever.
Nacho: I got between you and Tuco. You think you'd be here now, I kept my mouth shut?
Jimmy: A-and I appreciate that! I owe you! And if you're ever in trouble- God forbid, legal trouble- I will be there 24/7 as a lawyer.
Nacho: ...What's your angle?
Jimmy: No angle, heh. A-and I'm not saying anything about this to anybody. As far as I'm concerned, you're a client, this is a consultation, and everything you just told me is privileged.
Nacho: You rat, you die.
Jimmy: ...And that too, yes.
[Nacho gets up and writes his number on a matchbook]
Nacho: For when you figure out you're in the game.
Jimmy: I'm not in the game, I-I promise.

Nacho [1.03][edit]

Jimmy: Hey, you asked for me, and I have come. I want to tell you this was a wise move – very smart, because I’m here to help – everyone – all parties, but mostly you. Uh, those two detectives – they just gave me an earful. And what they were telling me is – it’s problematic. I’m gonna pitch it back to you so I know we’re on the same page. A neighbor lady saw a suspicious van parked across the street from the Kettleman’s house two nights in a row. She wrote down the license plate. It was your license plate. Cops tracked your van and you, searched it, and found blood on the floor. So... here we are. Um... um... they’re calling the FBI in on this, [Saul sits down] which makes it federal. That’s a bad thing, Nacho. That’s – that’s very bad, but if you tell me where the family is, if – if you give them up now – full cooperation, deep remorse – I feel very good about knocking your sentence down to the minimum – 18 years. They take this good-behavior thing very seriously, so start here, right here. Tell me the family is okay. Tell me the kids are okay. [beat] You want to tell me your thoughts and weigh in? Does this sound like a plan that you can get behind?
Nacho: You miserable piece of shit. You set me up.
Jimmy: I what?
Nacho: You gave my score to another crew, and now you’re setting me up.
Jimmy: I – what the what? Did the cops beat you? ‘cause you’re talking like a person with head trauma.
Nacho: You think you’re funny?
Jimmy: What are you saying? Are you saying that you have nothing to do with this? That was your van outside the house. You weren’t there?
Nacho: Yeah I was there. I was casing the place, figuring out the best way in and out, what time they went to bed – all that. They were fine when I left. That’s it.
Jimmy: You have nothing to do with the Kettlemans?
Nacho: I was never in the house.
Jimmy: What about the blood in your van?
Nacho: They DNA my ride, all they’re gonna find is the blood of your skate-rat twins, plus whatever piss and shit you leaked out when you were in there. Nobody's been in the back of that van since.
Jimmy: I... I don’t understand.
Nacho: Here’s what I understand, councilor. I told my plan to one other person. One – you. Now here I am, under arrest. Go figure.
Jimmy: I don’t know anything about a setup or another crew.
Nacho: You know what? I don’t even care. The cops are out there right now, poking into my business, and if they find something on me or my partners, for real, it’s gonna be bad for you – really bad.
Jimmy: Bad? Bad as in?
Nacho: You get me out of here today... or you’re a dead man.

[Jimmy once again doesn't have enough money or validation stickers when he shows up at the booth]
Jimmy: Dammit, here! I'm in a real rush. I didn't have time to get the validation.
Mike: Fine, nine bucks. [hands back Jimmy's parking ticket]
Jimmy: [takes ticket from Mike and looks for cash] I...I don't have it. I have five! Please?
Mike: You know the drill, money or validation.
Jimmy: Look, this is an emergency, okay?! A serious, serious emergency! I have to get outta here! I promise, on the souls of my forefathers, I will get you the stickers when I come back! I will get you extra if you just let me go! [Mike ignores him; angrily] FINE! FINE! You’re gonna make me walk back and get the stickers?! I will walk back and get the stickers!
Mike: I’m not making you do anything. Those are the rules.
Jimmy: [still angry] Hey, whatever helps you sleep at night. [Jimmy sees Mike not paying attention, so he reaches over and presses the button in the booth which raises the cross arm. It goes up and Jimmy drives away fast] SCREW YOU, GEEZER!

Mike: You're light on stickers.
Jimmy: Come on!
Mike: Five dollars.
Jimmy: Are you serious?
Mike: You've got four, you need five.
Jimmy: There's four ninety-minute stickers there.
Mike: You've been here six hours and five minutes.
Jimmy: It takes ten minutes to walk down here!
Mike: Five dollars, or you get another sticker.
Jimmy: [takes parking ticket, backs up his car and gets out] This makes you feel real important, huh?! Not enough stickers, more stickers?!
[Later the next day, Jimmy runs low on stickers yet again and vents his anger at Mike]
Jimmy: You're like a troll under a bridge!
[Mike shuts the sliding glass window and ignores Jimmy]
Jimmy: "You must have the stickers, or you won't pass!" Troll alert here! Don't feed it!

Jimmy: I called the Kettlemans after I hung up with you, I gave them a warning call.
Kim: A warning call?
Jimmy: Yeah, I was worried that my guy Varga was going after their money. And he was. He was gonna rip them off. I deduced it from a conversation that we had. It was lawyer to client, so there was, you know, confidentiality issues. But I called the Kettlemans anonymously to warm them.
Kim: Anonymously? You didn’t – Oh, god, you didn’t – you didn’t do the sex-robot voice, did you?
Jimmy: I did, with the tube and whole thing, which probably scared the living shit out of them, and they took off, which, you know, file that under “unintended consequence,” but you – you believe me now?
Kim: Um...
Jimmy: Great. Now we have to find them. I mean – or, better yet, get the cops to let Varga go because right now my ass is on the highway to the danger zone.
Kim: Well, why are you in danger?
Jimmy: Nacho Varga – he didn’t kidnap the family. But he’s a bad guy. He’s a very bad guy. And if the cops keep pushing him, they’re gonna find something. And when that happens, Nacho blames me, and then his guys turn me into a meat piñata.
Kim: Jimmy, tell the police.
Jimmy: No, there’s n– there’s no way I’m gonna rat on this guy. I will never be safe. No, I have to convince the cops that I’m right, get them to stop looking at Nacho, and catch the Kettlemans on the run.
Kim: And if they never catch them?
Jimmy: The Kettlemans? Well, you have met these people, right? They’re – they’re not exactly masterminds, right? They will be caught if the cops are looking for them. So tell them to, would you? The FBI, too – I heard they’re getting in on this.
Kim: Why would the FBI listen to me?
Jimmy: Well, Hamlin – they’ll listen to him, right? APD, at least. You – you talk to Howard. You explain things to him. He has clout with these people. [Kim sighs] What? Is – is that a no or...
Kim: Hamlin will never agree to it. The Kettlemans are our clients. This would mean incriminating them.
Jimmy: Oh, you – you see? That’s why people hate lawyers.
Kim: It’s Hamlin’s call, and Hamlin will never agree. And even if it were up to me, you know I couldn’t. I’m sorry. I just...
Jimmy: I get it. [Saul turns and leaves]
Kim: Where are you going?
Jimmy: I’m gonna go talk to Nacho. I’ll try to make him see reason. To beg!

Jimmy: Hey, hold up. How come you let me off the hook back there?
Mike: I'm going back to work. Why don't you quit while you're ahead and go on your way?
Jimmy: No, I refuse to believe it's because you have something resembling a heart inside your body.
Mike: You're not gonna have a heart inside your body in about five seconds.
Jimmy: Okay, don't tell me. I already know why you did it.
Mike: Yeah? Why's that?
Jimmy: 'Cause you believe me. That family kidnapped themselves.
Mike: All right, I believe you.
Jimmy: I knew it! I knew it! Finally, someone believes me! Why do you believe me?
Mike: I heard the details, your story makes sense.
Jimmy: Of course it does! Devil's advocate—like the cops said, the Kettlemans' cars are still at their house, there's no record of them leaving, how'd they get out of the country?
Mike: They didn't. Odds are they didn't get out of the neighborhood.
Jimmy: Wait...come again?
Mike: Look, when I was still on the job back in Philly, we had this case...
Jimmy: Whoa, hold up, "on the job," as in you were a cop, "on the job"?
Mike: This bookie disappeared after the Super Bowl. Cowboys-Steelers? Took $6 million in bets, skipped town when things didn't go his way. Now, everybody thought he was on the beach in the Bahamas or dead in the Jersey Pine Barrens—wasn't the case. He was two doors down from where he lived, in a foreclosed house. Hid there for six months without anyone suspecting.
Jimmy: But...but why? Why not run?
Mike: That's what everyone expects. It's human nature to want to stay close to home. And if this Kettleman figured out how to do it, that's what he did. Nobody wants to leave home.

Hero [1.04][edit]

[Nacho has been released now that he's been cleared of involvement in the Kettlemans' camping trip]
Jimmy: Well... I believe I did more than what you asked of me, so, uh, that would make us square, yes? Great. You need a ride?
Nacho: Camping? You expect me to believe that shit?
Jimmy: Yeah, I know it. The things people do, huh?
Nacho: They decide to go camping right after I run my little offer by you?
Jimmy: Could be argued that all of life is one great coincidence.
Nacho: Somebody told those people to, um, go camping. Somebody warned them.
Jimmy: They’re very woodsy. And between you and me, they’re pretty rash when it comes to the decision-making. I mean, they're not really the plan-ahead types.
Nacho: Yeah, I'd cut the cute attitude right about now If I were you. You ratted on me. There will be consequences.
Jimmy: Hey, if somebody warned the Kettlemans, it was probably somebody who was worried about those kids.
Nacho: You know how much trouble you caused me?
Jimmy: You didn't need any help getting caught, okay? The neighbor ID'd you. You were sloppy. Any trouble you might have... that's on you. Not to mention the blood in your van. Here's a thought... Ajax, Formula 409! You have no idea the tap dance I had to give those cops to get you out of here. You gave them probable cause out the wazoo. Now, and whoever that somebody is who may have warned the Kettlemans got them out of there before you did anything even more stupid. You should be thanking this Good Samaritan. Because whoever he is, he did you a favor.

[Jimmy and Howard are appearing before a judge, due to Jimmy erecting a billboard that deliberately imitates HHM's logo and branding]
Jimmy: Your honor, I'm a humble solo practitioner, merely trying to ply my trade in an aggressive and evolving marketplace.
Howard Hamlin: As I've argued repeatedly, this is trademark infringement. Mr. McGill's new logo is an absolute copy of ours.
Jimmy: I think it falls firmly under fair use.
Howard: Fair use? You're clearly profiting, so fair use doesn't apply.
Jimmy: It - there are only so many fonts out there. Does Mr. Hamlin outright own them all?
Howard: No, but we've been using this particular font for 12 years now, and it, in concert with our tri-rectangle graphic and Hamlindigo Blue, constitutes a trademarked brand identifier.
Jimmy: Whoa, whoa. Back up. Hamlindigo Blue?
Howard: Yes. That is our trademarked name.
Jimmy: Holy crap. You seriously named a color "Hamlindigo"? That is... yikes.
Howard: "Yikes"? From the man dressed exactly like me. Your honor, I feel like I'm in the mirror routine with Groucho Marx, like we should be standing, waving our arms at each other.
Jimmy: Really? I don't see it.
Howard: In addition, the name McGill appears in both logos, which, I believe, Mr. McGill is hoping to further confuse potential clients.
Jimmy: So I can't advertise under my own name now? I'm to be penalized 'cause I happen to share a name with one of HHM's partners? You can't take my name from me.
Judge: The name is not the problem here, Mr. McGill.
Jimmy: Uh, Mr. Hamlin certainly seems to think so. I mean, he wants me to change my name 'cause he claims that – that – what – it's some kind of threat to his business? Your honor. This is restraint of trade, okay? Whatever happened to the free market, huh? No, Hamlin here wants you to tell...
Judge: Okay, okay, I've... Enough. Mr. McGill, I've heard enough. All right, yes, you are within your rights to advertise using your own name. However, in my estimation, the billboard clearly and intentionally duplicates elements of the Hamlin, Hamlin & McGill logo. You're actively copying their established brand for your own gain. I don't see any other reasonable explanation.
Jimmy: Your honor, I...
Judge: Jimmy, Jimmy. Wise up. The billboard must come down within 48 hours.

Alpine Shepherd Boy [1.05][edit]

Richard Sipes: Jim, I saw you on the TV, that billboard thing. And I had me a pair of insights. Insight the first: you ain't afraid to put yourself out there. And insight the second: you believe in the real America – freedom, self-sufficiency.
Jimmy: I do. I... I really do.
Richard Sipes: When I see a man like you driving that foreign shitbox of a car...
Jimmy: Well, see, actually, it's...
Richard Sipes:'s a sign a good man can't get ahead today. It's a damned travesty. That's what it is.
Jimmy: Well that may be, Ricky, but, uh... I refuse to consider myself a victim.
Richard Sipes: You know, we are once again at a point in our history where the fly-swatting hand of government is crushing the spirit of entrepreneurship. Taxes, OSHA requirements, the INS poking their big, fat nose into every mother-loving hire. It's damned oppressive.
Jimmy: It's tragic. It's un-American.
Richard Sipes: Jim, I think you are just the lawyer I need, 'cause I got me a case – major – I say, a major case. Are you ready to clear your calendar?
Jimmy: Ricky, I'm all ears.
Richard Sipes: I want to secede from the United States. Now, I got 1,100 acres of property here, self-sustaining with solar power and wells, a sovereign state immune to the business-killing regulations of the country in which it geographically lies. We are going to be America's Vatican City.
Jimmy: Ricky... I'm your man. Yeah, let's do this. Let's show 'em all. Yee-haw!
Richard Sipes: Yee-haw!
Jimmy: Yee-haw! [Ricky highfives Saul] Yes! We are doing this! Ah. Now, it's not gonna be easy, sir. I mean, the government is gonna fight us tooth and nail. We could end up in the Supreme Court – I'm talking thousands of man-hours – I mean, years of effort.
Richard Sipes: Are you ready for that?
Jimmy: Me? I say bring 'em on.
Richard Sipes: Let's talk turkey. What's your rate?
Jimmy: $450 an hour.
Richard Sipes: The hell with hourly. I want you on retainer. How about $1 million even – $500,000 up front and $500,000 when we're done?
Jimmy: A million? That seems... fair.
Richard Sipes: Would you like that in cash? [Ricky takes out stacks of bills from the safe.]
Jimmy: Uh. [Jimmy flips a stack of bills and sees Ricky's face on them.] Well...
Richard Sipes: Tax-free and backed by the full faith and credit of the sovereign Sandia Republic.
Jimmy: It's, uh...
Richard Sipes: Son... You are getting in on the ground floor.
[Cuts to Jimmy driving away from the house at full speed]

[Roland Jaycox shows Jimmy into his garage]
Jimmy: So, what do we got?
Roland Jaycox: Uh, I feel silly asking this. Yeah. But before I show you my invention, would you mind signing a non-disclosure agreement?
Jimmy: You got it. No problem. [Jimmy signs the agreement.]
Roland Jaycox: It's my idea of a lifetime. If Fisher-Price or Playskool ever got their hands on this...
Jimmy: No worries.
Roland Jaycox: You ready? [Roland lifts the tarp off an ordinary looking toilet]
Jimmy: I may have seen one of these before.
Roland Jaycox: Not like this. This one has this little unit I've added. This is my invention. Do you have children?
Jimmy: No.
Roland Jaycox: My wife and I have two boys, four and six. And let me tell you, toilet-training them? Nightmare, both times. They just didn't want to use the commode! So I wired a motion sensor to a voice chip and, well, no sense getting all technical. But it's all about positive reinforcement. Meet Tony the Toilet Buddy. And when you sit down to do your business, this is how he works. [Roland drops a wooden block in the toilet bowl]
Tony the Toilet Buddy: Oh, yeah! That's the way! [Roland drops another wooden block in the toilet bowl] Gosh, you're big! You're so big! My goodness! Look at you! [Another wooden block] Fill me up, Chandler! Put it in me!
Roland Jaycox: Chandler's my youngest. Loves it.
Jimmy: Huh. [Another wooden block]
Tony the Toilet Buddy: Give it to me, Chandler! I want it all! Mmm! Ahhh!
Roland Jaycox: Anyway, it goes on from there. You get the picture.
Jimmy: Yeah, I, uh...yeah.
Roland Jaycox: So, what do you think?
Jimmy: It's a little...sexual, maybe?
Roland Jaycox: Sexual? What-what does that...?
Jimmy: Suggestive, maybe-maybe that's a better word? Look, I'm not-I'm not saying this thing won't make you rich. I mean, some of your wealthier Pacific Rim nations, they'll love this, the crazy bastards.
Roland Jaycox: I created this for children...children, understand?
Jimmy: Well, hey, Viagra was originally invented to treat hypertension. Look how that turned out.
[Cuts to Jimmy leaving the house with an angry Roland chasing after him]
Roland Jaycox: You're completely disgusting, you know that?!
Jimmy: Hey, buddy, you're the one with the sex toilet.
Roland Jaycox: Get off my property!
Jimmy: Hey, you know what? I hope you do make a fortune, 'cause Chandler's gonna need it to help pay for his therapy!

[Late at night, Jimmy is leaving the parking lot when he stops at Mike's booth]
Jimmy: Heeeeey, there he is. The man in the booth, John Wilkes Booth, Booth Tarkington. Whatchu readin' there? The Complete Annotated Book of Rules for Parking Validation?
Mike: No, the rules for parking validation are actually pretty simple. Most people get it on the first try.
Jimmy: Well, you’ll be pleased to know I have the requisite stickers. [hands over parking ticket]
Mike: [deadpan] Well, be still my heart.
Jimmy: Aaand... you can have this, as well. [hands over business card] I’m doing elder law now. "Need a will? Call McGill." So, give me a call if you, uh — uh, if, uh, you happen to know any elders.
Mike: [slightly annoyed]' Good night. [presses button to lift the crossarm]
Jimmy: Couldn’t have a bad one if I tried. [He drives away]

Five-0 [1.06][edit]

Jimmy: How you doing? James McGill here to see my client. [beat] What?
Greg Sanders: You look like Matlock.
Jimmy: Uh, no, I look like a young Paul Newman dressed as Matlock.

Jimmy: So I'm here because you want me to assault a police officer.
Mike: I am asking you to take a few ounces of lukewarm coffee and spill it on him. I doubt that satisfies the definition of "assault," but, hey, you're the lawyer.

Jimmy: Look, don't let Mr. Ehrmantraut's dancing eyes and bubbly, bon vivant personality fool you. He's actually, believe it or not, somewhat taciturn. Shall I fan you gently, so you don't go into shock?

[Mike is confronting his daughter-in-law about going to the police over Matty]
Stacey: Look, I don't care; he was dirty, he was clean, I don't care. All I want is for whoever killed Matty to rot in a cell for the rest of their life, and then I want whatever's left of them just dumped in the trash. That's what I want. I don't care where it leads, what it uncovers. I mean, what difference would it make if he was... anything? I'd still love him, I'd still miss him, he'd still be gone!
Mike: Matt wasn't dirty.
Stacey: Well, so be straight with me. Right now! This is it, Mike! What was that phone call before he died? Don't bullshit me!
Mike: That was between me and my son.
Stacey: So, you're admitting it was you.
Mike: He wasn't dirty! Goddamn you, you get that through your head! My son wasn't dirty!

[Mike is talking to his late son Matty's wife]
Mike: You let some things slide and you look the other way. You bust a drug dealer that has more cash than you'll ever earn in a lifetime. Some of it doesn't make it back into evidence, so what? You took a taste. So did everyone else. That's how you knew you were safe. It's like killing Caesar. Everyone's guilty. Matt wasn't dirty. I was. Everyone was in that precinct. That's how it worked. You turn in your buddy, you're screwing yourself. You go along to get along.
Stacey Ehrmantraut: And you went along.
Mike: [Chuckles, clicks tongue] I did. Yeah. I did.
Stacey: Okay. But you said Matt didn't.
Mike: No. Not Matt. Fensky got to Hoffman early, kickbacks from some gang or another. Protection, basically. And Hoffman went to Matty and offered to cut him in. Only fair, right? They were partners. And Matt did what you would think: He agonized. And then he came to me, wanted to go to the I.A., do the right thing, shut 'em down.
Stacey: Oh, my God. And you let him? That's why he got killed 'cause he was gonna turn on those guys?
Mike: No. No. I told him...[Sighs] "You know what a cop fears most? More than getting shot, more than anything? Prison. Getting locked up with everybody you put away. You threaten a cop with that, you make him dangerous." And that's what I told him. I talked sense. No one was getting hurt. "But if you go to the I.A., if you even look like you're going...?" He had a wife, a kid, responsibilities. "Take the money. Do something good with it." [chuckles] Well, I tried. I tried. But he wouldn't listen. My boy was stubborn. My boy was strong. And he was gonna get himself killed. So I told him...I told him I did it, too, that I was like Hoffman, getting by, and that's what you heard that night: Me talking him down, him kicking and screaming until the fight went out of him. He put me up on a pedestal. And I had to show him that I was down in the gutter with the rest of them. Broke my boy. I broke my boy. He went to Hoffman, he took the money, but he hesitated. Even looking like you're doing the right thing to those two meant that he wasn't solid – that he couldn't be trusted. I got Matty to take the money. And they killed him two days later. He was the strongest person that I ever knew. He'd have never done it, not even to save himself. I was the only one, I was the only one that could get him to debase himself like that. And it was for nothing. I made him lesser. I made him like me. And the bastards killed him anyway.
Stacey: Hoffman and Fenske, if they killed Matty...who killed them? What happened?
Mike: You know what happened. The question is, can you live with it?

Bingo [1.07][edit]

Kim: I know this is the last thing you want to hear. I think your chances of getting a favorable ruling from a jury are very slim.
Craig: What does that mean?
Kim: We're not in a great position to win at trial.
Betsy: But we came to you people because we were told you win cases.
Kim: Winning doesn't always mean "getting a favorable verdict at trial". We try to achieve the best possible outcome for our clients, given each individual case. Frankly, we've worked very hard to stave off an arrest. After the misunderstanding about your, uh, "camping trip", the D.A. was concerned you might be a flight risk.
Betsy: [scoffs] A flight risk? We–we were practically in our own backyard!
Kim: That's exactly what we told the D.A. In any case, I think we've managed to come up with a deal that is very favorable under the circumstances.
Betsy: A deal? I hate that terminology. A deal is what they got O.J.
Craig: Well, Betsy, maybe we should, you know, hear it...
Betsy: I'm just saying, it's a terrible term. [to Kim] What kind of deal?
Kim: If the prosecution decides to file, which is definitely the direction this seems to be headed, and if they choose to stack charges, Craig, you're looking at thirty years in prison.
Craig: Thirty years?
Kim: That's the maximum, and given the nature of the charge and the current political environment, I'd say we should expect it. The public outcry in cases like these is a big factor. However, after much discussion with the D.A., who is also invested in keeping the press to a minimum, we have arrived at an arrangement, which would include sixteen months in a county facility.
Craig: Sixteen months.
Kim: Down from thirty years. And you most likely wouldn't serve all of it.
Betsy: But he would have to say he was guilty.
Kim: Admitting wrongdoing and making the county whole again goes a long way here. Hence the minimal sentence.
Betsy: Uh, "making the county whole again"?
Kim: It includes the stipulation that you return $1.6 million in misappropriated funds.
Craig: Give back the money?
Betsy: [puts her hand on Craig's arm] But there is no money.
Craig: There's no money.
Betsy: We told you, Craig is innocent.
Kim: I understand. However, I'd like to emphasize again that this deal is Craig's best chance of minimizing jail time.
Betsy: You're telling us there are drug dealers and murderers walking the streets, but instead of going after them, they want to put an innocent man in jail.
Craig: There's no other way?
Kim: I'm sorry. I think, under the circumstances, this is your best option.
Betsy: Murderers and rapists, and this is how they tr... [inhales deeply] Okay. There is no money. There never was. You have to take this to trial.
Kim: Look, you have a difficult, but nevertheless straightforward choice to make here. On one hand, you give up the money, plead-
Betsy: [interrupts] Ah! I just told you, there is no money.
Kim: ...Plead guilty. It's painful, I know. And go to jail for a year and a half. But your other choice? [beat] That is no choice at all. If you go to trial, you'll most likely lose, and Craig goes to prison for decades. Your children will grow up seeing their dad through bars on visiting day. I know what I'd do. I'd take the deal. Two years from now, you can be starting over. It's tough, I know. But you're tough people. And your family is worth it. [beat] Why don't I give you a few moments to discuss this? I know it's a big decision.
Betsy: We don't need to discuss it. You're fired.

[Jimmy finds that the Kettlemans have dumped Kim and want to hire him for their embezzlement case. He calls her from a restaurant bathroom]
Jimmy: Hey, funny story: I found something that belongs to you, again.
Kim: Yeah? What?
Jimmy: "Who?" Picture The 25th Hour, starring Ned and Maude Flanders.

Jimmy: [to the Kettlemans] We can we all three just parachute down from cloud cuckoo land?

Kim: I know we're never supposed to say our clients are guilty, but hey, not my client anymore. He's guilty as sin.
Jimmy: Yeah, but there has to be something. Some loophole or -
Kim: None that I could find.
Jimmy: There has to be a way.
Kim: Not without the money. It's the only chip those Kettlemans have, and they refuse to play it.

[Jimmy enters the Kettleman residence]
Jimmy: [looking around] Oh, I love what you've done with the place. Last time I was here, it was, uh... Well, not a contender for the cover of Good Housekeeping, that's for sure.
Betsy: [chuckling] Do you have news about our case?
Jimmy: I do, in fact. But before we get to the nitty-gritty, I think we should chat about your deal.
Betsy: Uh, we told you, there will be no deal.
Jimmy: You did, didn't you? However, circumstances have changed.
Betsy: What circumstances?
Jimmy: To answer that, um... might I suggest that you go and check on that money you insist you "didn't" take?
[Betsy laughs incredulously]
Jimmy: In the upstairs bathroom, under the sink?
Craig: Wait, how could you...?
[The truth dawns on Betsy first, and she leaps up and hurries up the stairs in a panic, cutting him off. Craig follows her up, while Jimmy waits patiently in the living room.]
Craig: Betsy?
[There is the sound of clattering and rummaging upstairs]
Betsy: No, no no no no no no!
Craig: It's okay, Betsy. It's gotta be... it's gotta be in there somewhere.
[Betsy comes out of the bathroom and addresses Jimmy from upstairs]
Betsy: What did you do with it?!
Jimmy: By "it", you mean...?
Betsy: [As she and Craig make their way downstairs] Where is it?!
Jimmy: Oh! You mean the money? Uh, let me see. It's uh... [checks his watch] on its way to the D.A.'s desk, right about now.
Betsy: What!? You...!? Oh, you thief!
Jimmy: It takes one to know one, doesn't it?
Craig: You took it? How did you take it?
Jimmy: A good magician never reveals his tricks. Now here's what we're gonna do—
Betsy: Oh, you don't tell us what to do. You stole from us. We... We will have you arrested!
Jimmy: Uh, I can see how upset you are, and even on a good day, you and logic are... [places two fingers together and separates them with a whistling sound] But think about what you just said. Criminals have no recourse. And you two? You're criminals. Big time.
Betsy: How dare you.
Jimmy: Luckily, you have a very talented lawyer, who has found a way to minimize the damage you've brought upon yourselves.
Betsy: Oh, you're fired!
Jimmy: Oh, I quit already. No, I'm talking about Kim Wexler. Now, you're gonna go back to her, you're gonna apologize for your hasty decision to terminate her services, and you're gonna fall on her mercy and take that deal.
Betsy: We'll tell about the bribe you took.
Jimmy: You could do that. You absolutely could, and I'd be in a mess of trouble, a real pickle...
[Betsy smiles smugly, thinking she's got him]
Jimmy: ...But so would you, Mrs. Kettleman. Because right now, only Mr. Kettleman is on the hook, for the whole embezzlement kerfluffle. But the bribe – we're back to calling it a bribe? Yeah, that implicates you as well.
Craig: It does not. It was all me.
Jimmy: No, it wasn't. I'll make sure everyone knows that. Look on the bright side, you know? They could work out some kind of inter-prison visitation program, the occasional conjugal. Maybe it won't be all bad. [to Betsy] You, you'll probably wind up running your own gang. [He looks up at both of them, becoming somewhat solemn] Thing you folks need to know about me? I got nothing to lose. Christ, you should see my office.

RICO [1.08][edit]

Jimmy: This is a demand letter informing Sandpiper Crossing of pending litigation for defrauding my clients through systematic overcharging. You're shredding in there! I'm not deaf! I can hear you! Stop right now! [shredding continues] This here this makes it official, right? If you don't stop shredding right now, that's destruction of evidence spoliation! That's what it's called, and it's a felony! So call your lawyers right now and tell them I said that! Me! James McGill Esquire!

[Jimmy gets a call from Rick Schweikart, a lawyer representing Sandpiper Crossing, as he looks for the shredded documents in a dumpster]
Rick Schweikart: Mr. McGill, Rich Schweikart of Schweikart and Cokely. We're the law firm representing Sandpiper Crossing assisted living. How are you this evening?
Jimmy: Quite well, thank you. How are you?
Rick: Doing fine. Doing fine. I'm sorry to call so late. Did I catch you at a bad time?
Jimmy: No, no. No, it's fine.
Rick: It's just that you're whispering.
Jimmy: I'm at the opera.
Rick: Oh? What opera?
Jimmy: Magic Flute.
Rick: Mozart! Lovely. Well, I'll try not to keep you. We received something from you today, and we're not quite sure what.
Jimmy: It's a demand letter.
Rick: Ah. Well, it was a little confusing 'cause it was written on...
Jimmy: Well, I had to write it quickly because your clients were in the process of destroying evidence!
Rick: Mr. McGill, if you're talking about "shredding documents", it's neither irregular nor illegal. Every business in America does it.
Jimmy: You say potato, I say spoliation.
Rick: Maybe you should walk me through what you're alleging here.
Jimmy: I believe it's all in the letter.
Rick: Uh, uh, I–I'm not saying it's not, but it's a bit hard to read. Next time, I'd use double-ply.

Jimmy: Let's not fixate on the medium, okay? Let's look at the message. Now, your clients are facing multiple counts of elder abuse, and fraud, and deceptive and unfair trade practices, and that's just the start, okay? I'm not a betting man, but I bet the farm I'll find more.
Rick: Mr. McGill, are you related to Charles McGill?
Jimmy: He's my brother.
Rick: Yeah? How's he doing these days?
Jimmy: I–I fail to see the relevance of this.
Rick: Well, frankly, the only reason that I made this phone call was out of respect for Charles, on the off chance that you might be related to him. My partner suggested that the best response would be to send a Rule 11 letter and have you sanctioned, but I didn't want to jump to that immediate length.
Jimmy: How about you stop trying to rattle my cage and just, you know, respond to the merits?
Rick: This is my response, Mr. McGill. You have no good-faith basis to threaten any litigation. This is a shakedown, and we both know it. Now, if you push this any further, my hands will be tied. Sorry for interrupting your evening. Enjoy The Magic Flute.
Jimmy: [after Schweikart has hung up] Blow my magic flute!

Chuck: You broke into a nursing home?
Jimmy: Assisted living.
Chuck: And you stole their garbage. My God.
Jimmy: No, it was in public. There was no lock, no nothing. I just lifted the lid, and there it was. There's no reasonable expectation of privacy in that situation, is there? You can't say it's private if a hobo can use it as a wigwam!

Jimmy: [to Rick Schweikart] Sedima establishes a pretty low threshold for RICO provisions to kick in. Interstate commerce is a bitch, huh? As soon as we establish a pattern to – what was your word – uh, "overbillings"? I prefer the classic term of "fraud." You're looking at treble damages. So your 100 grand? I think you know where you can stick it.

Pimento [1.09][edit]

Chuck: Confidence is good. Facts on your side, better. Know what you're walking into.

Sobchak: So, what you packing?
Mike: A pimento.
Sobchak: Sorry, what?
Mike: Pimento sandwich.
Sobchak: [laughs] That's funny. Pimento. No, I mean, what are you carrying? You know, the piece? What's the make?
Mike: Pimento is a cheese. They call it the caviar of the South.
Sobchak: You don't want to tell me what you're carrying, so be it. But you don't have to be a douche about it.
Mike: Just told you what I'm carrying.
Sobchak: So you're saying you don't have a gun? Is that what you're saying? How are you here without a gun? [to Man Mountain] You have a gun?
Man Mountain: Yeah.

Howard: It's easy money, Jimmy. No reason not to take it.
Jimmy: Go to hell, Howard! I'm not giving you my case. And I'm gonna tell every one of those clients what a lying miserable pig fucker you are. I will burn the whole thing to the ground before I give it to you!

Howard: The partners have made a decision and the why is not your concern.
Kim: I think it is my concern.
Howard: And why is that?
Kim: Because he's my friend. And the way I see it, you're not treating him fairly.
Howard: "The way you see it?"
Kim: I don't know what image you have of him, past or present, or whatever he did or said, but Jimmy is a good lawyer. And he works very hard.
Howard: Did your friend send you in here to say that?
Kim: No. I'm saying it because I believe it.
Howard: Well, duly noted. Want to know what I believe? I believe that you're way out of your depth in this matter. So the next time that you want to come in here and tell me what I'm doing wrong, you are welcome to keep it to yourself. Because I don't care.

Mike: The lesson is, if you're gonna be a criminal, do your homework.
Pryce: Wait. I'm not a bad guy.
Mike: I didn't say you were a bad guy. I said you're a criminal.
Pryce: What's the difference?
Mike: I've known good criminals and bad cops. Bad priests. Honorable thieves. You can be on one side of the law or the other. But if you make a deal with somebody, you keep your word. You can go home today with your money and never do this again. But you took something that wasn't yours. And you sold it for a profit. You're now a criminal. Good one, bad one? That's up to you.

Jimmy: I'm your brother. We're supposed to look out for each other. Why were you working against me, Chuck?
Chuck: You're not a real lawyer.
Jimmy: I'm what?
Chuck: You're not a real lawyer. University of American Samoa, for Christ's sake? An online course? What a joke. I worked my ass off to get where I am, and you take these shortcuts and you think suddenly you're my peer? You do what I do because you're funny and you can make people laugh? I committed my life to this! You don't slide into it like a cheap pair of slippers and reap all the rewards.
Jimmy: I thought you were proud of me.
Chuck: I was. When you straightened out and got a job in the mailroom, I was very proud.
Jimmy: So that's it then, right? Keep old Jimmy down in the mailroom. He's not good enough to be a lawyer.
Chuck: I know you. I know what you were, what you are. People don't change. You're Slippin' Jimmy. And Slippin' Jimmy I can handle just fine, but Slippin' Jimmy with a law degree is like a chimp with a machine gun. The law is sacred! If you abuse that power, people get hurt. This is not a game. You have to know on some level, I know you know I'm right. You know I'm right.

Marco [1.10][edit]

Jimmy: I mean, what is it with this place? It's–it's like living inside an easy-bake oven. I mean, look out that window. It's–it's like a soulless, radioactive Georgia O'Keefe hellscape out there, crawling with coral snakes and scorpions and– You ever see the movie The Hills Have Eyes? It's a documentary! God forbid your car breaks down. You have to walk ten steps. You got a melanoma the size of a pineapple where your head used to be. And so you ask, "Why?" Why? If if that's how I feel, why do I live here? Why?!
Senior: Excuse me. Are you gonna read that number?
Jimmy: Yeah. I'm gonna read your number. And it's another "B". It's another frigging "B". Boy, of course. Why not? Why not?! And the next number...
Jimmy: Uh, quick question, who here knows what a Chicago sunroof is? Anybody? You, sir? No? Okay. True story, uh, back home, uh, there was this guy named Chet. Now, Chet was a real asshole. He might have owed me some money. He might have slept with my wife before she became my ex-wife. The details don't matter. Suffice it to say, I was wronged. All right, so one summer evening, I was out having a few drinks. One or two, maybe three. You get the picture? And, uh, who do I see? Chet. He drove up, and he double-parked outside a Dairy Queen and went in to get some soft serve. Now, Chet drove – and this will give you an idea of exactly what kind of a douchebag this guy was – drove a white pearlescent BMW 7 Series with white leather interior. So, I saw that thing, and I had–I'd had a few, like I said. And, uh, I climbed up top, and I may have defecated, uh, through the sunroof. Not my finest hour, I'll grant you that. But that's what a Chicago sunroof is. Now you know. It's a real thing. I didn't make it up. I'm not the first person to do it. There's a name for it. Guy wanted some soft serve, I gave him some soft serve. I did not know that his children were in the backseat. There was a level of tint on the windows that I'll maintain to this day was not legal in an Illinois-licensed vehicle. But somehow, that's on me, I guess. Who leaves two Cub Scouts in a double-parked car with the engine running?! Come on! Now, Chet was connected, see? Like, uh, Cicero connected. So, usually, I'd be looking at malicious mischief, public intoxication, disorderly conduct, maybe. But he's got the D.A. saying indecent exposure, calling me a sex offender. What? One little Chicago sunroof, and suddenly I'm Charles Manson?! And that's where it all went off the rails. I've been paying for it ever since. That's why I'm here! I don't...You know what? [sniffs] Any of this stuff you want, come get it. Kitty-cat notebooks for everybody.

Marco: Jimmy, you know what?
Jimmy: Just s-save your breath, okay? You're gonna be fine.
Marco: This was the greatest week of my life.

Sabrina: Hey! You are not Kevin Costner!
Jimmy: I was last night.

Jimmy: Help me out here. Did I dream it, or did I have $1,600,000 on my desk in cash? When I close my eyes, I can still see it. It's burned into my retinas like I was staring into the sun. No one on God's green earth knew we had it. We could have split it 50/50. We could have gone home with $800,000 each, tax-free.
Mike: Your point being?
Jimmy: Why didn't we? What stopped us?
Mike: I remember you saying something about doing the right thing.
Jimmy: I don't even know what that means.
Mike: You want to know why I didn't take that money? Is that what you're asking?
Jimmy: Yeah, that's what I'm asking.
Mike: Me personally? I was hired to do a job. I did it. That's as far as it goes.
Jimmy: Yeah. Well, I know what stopped me. And you know what? It's never stopping me again.

External links[edit]

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