Mullins: [in bathroom] Jesus, what are those?
Ashburn: Stop it, they're my Spanx. They hold everything together.
Mullins: Why, what's gonna come popping out?
Ashburn: Nothing, it just keeps everything where it's supposed to be. Like...
Mullins: Shit, like medically?
Ashburn: [Ashburn's cell phone rings] Ashburn.
[Hands phone to Mullins]
Ashburn: Why don't you have your own phone?
Mullins: What am I, the Queen of England?
Ashburn: I don't know. Does the Queen of England only wear sweatpants?
Mullins: Fuck you.
Ashburn:
You... 'F' you.
Mullins: [Walking toward a man on the street] Oh, shit.
Ashburn: What's wrong?
Mullins: Just... just don't look. Don't look! Don't look! Just act like we're talking.
Robin: Hey, Shannon.
Mullins: Hi, Robin.
Robin: I really enjoyed our night together, Shannon. You
just disappeared on me.
Mullins: Yeah, I know. I was there.
Robin: Well, can I take you to dinner? A movie or something?
Mullins: God, buddy, do you not hear how pathetic everything out of your mouth sounds? I mean, there's a girl out there for you, but it's not... it's not me. Maybe it's her.
[indicating Ashburn]
Mullins: Her lady business is like an old dirty attic. Full of broken Christmas lights and like doll shoes and shit. Why don't you clean THAT out for her?
Ashburn: Uh, that's a... that's a misrepresentation of my vagina.
Ashburn: [Horn blows twice. A mini-van slowly drives up to Ashburn and Mullins as they are walking on the street. The van's windows are down, and the radio is blasting Boston's "More Than a Feeling" as the driver flips off Mullins] Who is... who is that?
Mullins: My mom.
Ashburn: [Leans in close to talk to Mullins after waking up in a bar] Hey, how ya doin'?
Mullins: Jesus, you've gotta get a mint in that dumpster.
Ashburn: Oh, God, was I smoking cigarettes last night?
Mullins: Yeah, you kept takin' 'em out of people's mouths and smoking them.
Ashburn:
God, that's so nasty.
Mullins: It *was* pretty gross.
Mullins: You want something to eat? I didn't finish my submarine sandwich from the other day.
Ashburn: Oh god, no thank you.
Mullins: Sorry I don't have poached eggs and rubies for ya.
Ashburn: No, I... I don't mean to be rude but one could catch a MRSA infection in here, that's all.
Mullins: Yeah, what part of that wasn't rude?
Ashburn: Okay, here we go.
[Ashburn goes to pull the fire alarm in the club, and the face plate comes off in her hand]
Ashburn: My God, there are absolutely no wires attached to this thing! And what is that?
[poking at object in recessed fire alarm box]
Ashburn: What is that? Gum? Or is that... Silly Putty?
Mullins: [Slaps Ashburn's hand] Don't touch that! That's a condom.
Ashburn: [Ashburn dry heaves]
Levy: Alright, ladies, here's the DNA results from the book of matches and the cigarette butt you got from Tatiana's. We pulled two sets of prints. First one's a real nut job. Look at this: reckless driving, assault, arson...
[pulls up Mullins' photo on the screen]
Ashburn: [clears throat]
Levy: Oh, God.
Ashburn: Really?
Mullins: Who the fuck is this guy?
Ashburn: He's my assistant. What...?
Levy: Uh, you know I'm an agent, right?
Ashburn: Arson?
Mullins: It was a drug house!
Levy: [Ignored as he holds up his ID badge, whistles, and taps
on it]
Ashburn: I really feel the need to finish reading your files because this is just...
Mullins: I really feel the need for you to stay out of my business so I don't punch you in the teeth.
Ashburn: [getting angrier] God, you guys are just - what is the matter with you? You're such... you're just such jerks! You're just such... shit jerk! You're just a shit jerk dick... fucker! You're a shit jerk dick fucker assholer. And you can all just go fuck yourselves!