Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

You did not look particularly commissioner-like.

- We're on channel two. - All right.

- I know. - And Avon, he coming home, too.

Okay, Mary Tyler Moore, buck-naked.

- Homicide. - This is Freamon, Major Case.

- Hey, yo. - Huh?

Can you put him down, please?

Nicked jugular, shattered jaw.

All they live for is to get you off.

I mean, I can't believe this shit.

Who's Gus Triandos?

I just want to know who's your dawg.

I just wanted to wait and see what you wanted us to do about it.

That tonight's a good night.

- He win? - Who?

I'll tell you everything I know.

Buddy and my old man go way back.

Let me talk to some people.

Yo, we can go $31,000, $32,000 shots, man.

And you didn't go to the Mayor with it?

The shit's so John Blaze, you can step on it seven, eight times...

Man, you all some cold-ass motherfuckers, man.

And it grinds me, too.

What the fuck you talking...

Look at what that bullet did to his heart.

Yo, all due respect, but this right here...

- You want me to go up to Homicide? - No, I got it, I got it.

The wiretap has to surface in court.

Soap your bitch.

You know what? You got four bodies, all within two blocks of each other...

Well, what's done is done.

Looks like they broke him.

Your boy really jammed me, that little prick.

The Terrace is spreading out.

But I draw the line at going behind the Mayor for this guy.

That's his heart.

He doesn't want me talking to reporters right now.

You know what I'm saying?

We might have four more bodies tonight.

So, what you want us to do?

- Lf you're looking for dirt, there isn't any. - There's always fucking dirt.

Where do you guys get those hats with the bills over the ears like that?

I just want to make sure nobody did the suicide to him.

- Not that you heard it from me. - Of course not.

Who's my dawg? You my dawg?

Well, I'm just saying.