#Shakedown-isms

I say it here, it comes out there.

Worth playing for? 

All too easy.

Amazing, every word you just said, was wrong.

What more than that?

It’s the only way to be sure.

That’s not entirely accurate.

I’m gonna have to go ahead and sorta disagree with you there.

Who are you? 

Will you marry me? How much money do you have?

Are you sure you want to hear this?

I think we lost the element of surprise.

You don’t have to answer the question.

Goddammit, that’s not all!

You’re goddamn right I did!

You can kiss all of that goodbye.

What are you talking about, man!

Are you out of your fucking mind?

Let’s get the obvious stuff out of the way.

Well, it’s tough to get any more obvious than that. 

It is interesting reading your reactions.

You want answers?

But you didn’t.

History has certainly shown, that the most intuitive criminal investigator can be wrong, from time to time.

A quick word, before the adventure begins…

Who’s gonna do it?  You? You lieutenant Whineberg?

Are we clear?

Are we clear!

They are not gods.

Are you seeing this?

And that makes you an employee.  Cheers!

I’ll answer the question!

Is there an agenda that you’re not telling us about?

Bullshit!

One does not simply…

Ladies and gentlemen, my esteemed colleague…has just brought some new evidence to my attention.

Getting shot doesn’t look like this.

Am I dead?  Far from it.

Which brings us at last to the moment of truth.

Bingo.

It is a pickle.  No doubt about it.

I have been living in a prison of fear.

You’ve changed things!

But how do you know?

Very poor choice of words.

What was it?

What was it!

Of each particular thing ask: what is it in itself?

Wow!

It’s all about what you didn’t get.

I feel you.  I feel you dog.

You’re certain you had to open this door?

As I read the list I knew I had none of them.

Do you accept this great honor that I’ve offered you?

Not a great plan.

But people, we cannot sum up a man’s life with a bunch of numbers on a computer screen.

Is it?  Are you?

I guess I feel kinda different.

Shut the fuck up!

Welcome to the real world.

Far from it.

Fate, it would seem, is not without a sense of irony.

Nothing further, your honor.

We just lost the initiative.

You think I want to escape from this?

There is no escape from this!

I AM AN FBI AGENT!

If you head back in that direction, you’ll find a whole lotta nuthin’ all the way to Canada.

“I’m a former federal agent…”

“I’m an expert in analyzing people’s behavior.” “Who cares!”

[Blinking monkey]

FBI, whatever, special agent, he is a piece of work.

Excuse me, I’m a former special agent.

Maybe there’s a little bit of instability there…?

[Jeff Probst disbelief]

A Phillip [not to be confused with a “fillip”, a “fill-up” or even a “pick-up”] is when an extraordinary claim turns out to be laughable.

Back off monkey boy!

I am emotionally compromised.

Same, same – but different. 

So what I told you was true, from a certain point of view.

Do you realise what you’ve done?

You’ll have to excuse my friend; he’s a little slow.

 You’re going to have to play my little game.

That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.

There are few who can.

They are one – the ring, and the dark lord.

That’s how it feels!

Who are you?

Why am I here?

You haven’t answered my question.

What the fuck is with you?

Then why was it me who was the only one who lost everything?

Then something woke you. Was it a dream?

KOOKOO!

Dormamu, I’ve come to bargain.

I’m not as strong as you.

Causality; we are forever slaves to it. Our only hope, our only peace is to understand it. To understand the why.

Why is what separates us from them, you from me. 

Why is the only real source of power; without it, you’re powerless.

And this is how you come to me; without why. without power

Can you speak up? It’s hard to hear you with that pity-dick in your mouth.

Sadism.

Counterstrike humiliation.

Counterstrike role play.

Counterstrike role play II.

Humiliation.

Well that’s a very entertaining story. Unfortunately, real detectives have to worry about that little thing called ‘evidence’. 

Roger Podacter didn’t commit suicide, he was murdered.

Is this all real?

Shut-up, come, get him out of here!

You wanna play hard ball? I’m game!

Dry heaving.