Bishop73

Mike Donnelly: [On the phone] Every guy's got his dream, am I right? Between you, me, and the wall here, I had a doozy of one myself last night. Get this. A corn-fed harvest mouse, a hooker, a nun, a Flemish peasant woman, whips, chains, whistles, yo-yos, a circus midget, my grandmother riding by on a bicycle giving me the finger, and a duck. Now, I don't know. Are you crying? Oh, my lord. I am sorry, honey. Please don't cry, could you get your daddy on the phone?

Bishop73

Mike Donnelly: How ya doing, buddy? Transporting a prisoner. 12th precinct up in Buckley Town. My sergeant didn't give me any overtime, so I'm trying to do it lickety-split.
Motorcycle Cop: Tell me, officer, do you have any idea how fast you were going?
Mike: Well. I got a 426 hemi in her, 3/4 cams, nitro boosters. I can get her up to as good as 155. Never do though of course, unless I'm chasing a cute chick in a Ferrari. Hahahahaha. I guess I was going about 65, tops.
Motorcycle Cop: Seven! Seven miles an hour! And normally when I stop people they pull onto the shoulder.

Bishop73

Steve Dodds: Are you or are you not the black angel of death?
Mike Donnelly: Without question.
Steve: Don't agree with me. It just pisses me off more.

Bishop73

Steve Dodds: [After hitting Drake with his car] Oh! Oh! Buddy, are you ok?
Drake Sabitch: I'm not that far from dragging you out of the car and beating you to dust.
Steve: You should work up to that. Kinda leaves you nowhere to go.
Drake: I can go to your mamma's and start a small fire in her panties. Now, are you ready to get out of the car?

Bishop73