Bartender: What’s your poison?
Lassiter: Humanity.
Bartender: Bad day in the universe, huh?
Lassiter: Eh. They all sort of run together. Unless a corpse resurfaces and a body [?] liquidates some nut-loving rodentia.
Marlowe Viccellio (Kristy Swanson): I hope you weren’t saving this stool for someone else.
Lassiter: Do I know you? Or do you think I’m someone else?
Marlowe: So what’s your story, Carlton?
Lassiter: How do you know my name?
Marlowe: I asked you first.
Lassiter: Are you a prostitute?
Marlowe: Is that the vibe I’m giving off?
Marlowe: So you gonna tell me about yourself or not?
Lassiter: Yep. {he throws back his drink} Well you already know my name. I come here to unwind because my job can be… intense. I often pretend I’m Clint Eastwood.
Marlowe: Even in Blood Work?
Lassiter: Mostly Heartbreak Ridge.
Marlowe: Please continue.
Lassiter: I’m somewhat recently divorced, I believe there’s little to no room for interpretation when it comes to the United States Constitution, and I have an unusually high threshold for pain.
Lassiter: How did you know my name?
Marlowe: Why don’t you hold that thought while I go freshen up. We’re gonna need more whiskey.
Woman: Hey! You blind, Flat Stanley?
Shawn: Listen, Jules. Just don’t beat yourself up. You can’t possibly be expected to control whether or not Gus and I surreptitiously follow you after you get a call during breakfast.
Juliet: But I specifically told you not to follow.
Shawn to Gus: She said farrow.
Juliet: Farrow is not a word. I said follow. {to Gus} He knows I said follow.
Gus: I wasn’t there, but farrow is most definitely a word. It means to birth a calf or a litter of pigs.
Juliet: Okay, fine. Why would I ask Shawn not to birth a calf or a litter of pigs?
Gus: I don’t know.
Lassiter: What did you find out about the girl I met last night?
Buzz: I might need a little bit more to go on, sir.
Lassiter: What do you mean? What more do you need? I told you: she’s blonde and pale and perfect and beautiful and perfect. So get me a name and get me an address. And get me some aspirin.
Lassiter: Please tell me why they’re at my crime scene.
Shawn: Lassie, it’s not her fault. She told me not to follow her and I thought she told me not to be pregnant with swine.
Shawn: That dude’s awfully pale.
Gus: Abnormally pale. Especially since he’s only been dead for—
Shawn: Check the neck. Check the wrist.
Shawn: Gus. No blood. Puncture wounds.
Gus: Abnormally pale. What? Do it! Do it! Or better yet, let me do it. I’ll do it!
Shawn: Settle down. You’re not gonna do it. I wish I had a bigger audience.
Shawn: What we’re up against here is no mere mortal. I’m afraid this very well may be the work— {dramatic pause} —of a vampire.
Gus: Sookie is mine!
Juliet ignoring them: What are you thinking, partner?
Lassiter: Actually I’m going to have to go with Spencer on this one.
Shawn: You know, you weren’t nearly this pumped when we thought we were chasing a werewolf.
Gus: I’m not trying to get devoured by a hairy famished beast, Shawn. But I will whip me some lithe, wispy vampire ass.
Shawn: Necrobutcher!
Woody: Ryan Phillipe.
Shawn: We’re trying out pet names. {to Gus} Yours is Baloney.
Gus: Woody, in your professional opinion, is it possible that this person was the victim of a vampire attack?
Juliet: Don’t dignify that with a response.
Woody: I wasn’t planning on it.
Shawn: Is it possible?
Woody: Most likely, yes.
Juliet: Woody!
Woody: It’s a given, really.
Shawn: Look around. You’re the fish out of water here.
Juliet: Because they’re all pretending to be dead, Shawn.
Shawn: Or perhaps it is us who pretend to be alive.
Gus: Charlatan!
Bartender: Look who’s talking. Count Chocula over here. Please.
Gus: Charlatan? You must be out of your damn mind!
Shawn: What did I tell you? No one remembers Blacula except for us and Quentin Tarantino.
Lassiter: You don’t live alone.
Marlowe: No, it’s me and three guys.
Lassiter: Have you ever dated, thought about dating or had any casual relations with these free-loading parasites?
Marlowe: No. Is this an interrogation?
Lassiter: Believe me, I wish it weren’t, but… Where’s the necklace?
Marlowe: I don’t understand.
Lassiter: “For all eternity.” The necklace.
Juliet: Carlton, what exactly is going on here?
Lassiter: I suppose I do owe you an explanation, partner. I owe you two nothing and you look like a couple of asshats in those ridiculous costumes.
Shawn: I’m dangerous. In a sexy way.
Marlowe: More like a gay way.
Gus: Well I’m straight-up iconic.
Marlowe: I wouldn’t call Count Chocula an icon.
Juliet: Marlowe, we’re going to need to talk to each of your roommates and find out which one made that call.
Marlowe: Ah, yeah, I understand. It’s Eddie, Jake and Lucien.
All: Where’s Lucien?
Juliet: Wow. You guys are actually devolving. Get back over here. Now!
Shawn: Hold up. Will King Putt honor an expired two-for-one Groupon: yes or no?
Gus: Shawn! This is serious. Listen, on the third hole I usually putt up the right side, bank through the rubber bumpers, but I still keep getting nailed by the swinging mammaries.
Lucien: Those aren’t mammaries. They’re the bells on the end of a jester’s cap.
Gus and Shawn: Really?
Lucien: Yes. It’s putt-putt. For kids.
Shawn: Edward has entered the building.
Juliet: What? Where?
Shawn: It’s a classic shifting technique. It was incognito man-to-animal maneuver.
Gus: If that’s correct, it looks like we may be dealing with an Elder or even worse—a diablerie.
Shawn: No!
Gus: Yes!
Juliet: God, I used to be a detective, now I’m a babysitter!
Shawn: That makes you Elizabeth Shue. Gus is Keith Coogan.
Gus: You’re Coogan!
Shawn: You’re Coogan!
Gus: Your momma’s Coogan.
Shawn: Did I just see what my brain is telling my eyes I just saw?
Gus: Is that a cape?
Gus: What we’re looking at is someone capable of vamp speed. Or present-space quantum leap.
Shawn: Blacula gives a shout-out to Bakula.
Henry: That’s a feline.
Gus: That will drink you like a juice box.
Shawn: Come on, Lassie! Let the Right Ones In, buddy!
Gus: Unless you’re already undead!
Shawn: In which case, would you kindly impale yourself with a wooden stake!
Lassiter: Spencer! Guster, go away!
Juliet: Carlton, open the door!
Lassiter: O’Hara?
Henry: Give us some sort of signal you’re okay. A cough or a thump of some kind!
Lassiter: Henry?
Buzz: Should I call for the battering ram?
Lassiter: McNab!
Shawn: Come on, let’s hug it out.
Lassiter: I would rather learn to play the harp.
Shawn: Okay.
Juliet: Is he responsive at all?
Shawn: No. Nothing. We even held a plate of bean and cheese nachos in front of his face.
Henry: How much blood was it exactly, Shawn?
Shawn: Just a little stream! It’s not like it was the end of Carrie. Or the beginning of Carrie.
Shawn: Alright, listen up buddy. This hurts me way more than it hurts you. {Shawn winds up and Gus punches him. Hard.}
Henry: Welcome back, Guster.
Gus: I’m hungry like a mug.
Shawn: You’re hungry like a what?
Shawn: O negative!
Ron: You what?
Doctor: How did you know his blood type?
Shawn: It’s a special gift that I bust out on rare occasions. And almost all the time.
Shawn: I need a diversion. Slip a disk or pee yourself. {Gus gets up and feigns back pain} Doctor, my friend has peed himself.
Shawn: Hey, Lassie. I just wanted to say, you know, that the sea is vast. And filled with many strange creatures. And corals. Mostly divorced corals. Probably with a bunch of kids. And they’re just looking for any old crustacean with a steady income, so—
Lassiter: Sorry, Spencer. No time for your empty, bone-headed musings. I’m late for an appointment.
Marlowe: I wasn’t sure you’d come.
Lassiter: I’m a man of my word.
Marlowe: I’m so sorry. I wish I’d—
Lassiter: You did what you thought you had to do.
Lassiter: Can I ask you something?
Marlowe: Anything.
Lassiter: Where would you rate Pink Cadillac in the Eastwood canon?
Marlowe: Not very high, I’m afraid. I mean I suppose it’s a good companion piece to City Heat, but he’s much funnier with the orangutan.
Lassiter: My Dear Marlowe,
I will wait for you these six to eighteen months. See You Next Wednesday.