so sweet. Dudley Smith: prose television
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Or my father. Sid Hudgens: Get me some narco skinny. I want to do an all-hophead issue. You know, schwartze jazz musicians and movie stars. prose You like it? Ed Exley: Bud hates himself for what he did. Lynn Bracken: I know how he feels. [last lines] Lynn Bracken: Some men get the world. Others get ex-hookers and a trip to Arizona. [She prose kisses Exley on the cheek] Lynn Bracken: Bye. Ed Exley: Bye. Ray Pinker: Stomach prose of the week. Unemployed actor had frankfurter, french fries, alcohol, and sperm. Hell of a last supper, don't you think? Bud White: Bullshit. How would a two-bit hick like Meeks get his hands on a large supply of heroine? Johnny Stompanato: You're right, it's probably bullshit. Even if he did, he could never unload it. Not without drawing all kinds of attention. Bud White: Maybe that's why he's under a house in Elysian Park and he don't smell too good, paesano.
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so sweet. Dudley Smith: Edmund, you're a political animal. You have the eye for human weakness, but not the stomach. Ed Exley: You're wrong, sir. Captain Dudley Smith: Would you be willing to plant corroborative evidence on a suspect you knew to be guilty, in order to ensure an indictment? Ed Exley: Dudley, we've been over this. Captain Dudley Smith: Yes or no, Edmund? Ed Exley: No! Captain Dudley Smith: television Would television you be willing to beat a television confession out of a suspect you knew to be guilty? Ed Exley: No. Captain Dudley Smith: Would you be willing to shoot a hardened criminal in the back, in order to offset the chance that some... lawyer... Ed Exley: No. Captain Dudley Smith: Then, for the love of God, don't be a detective. Stick to assignments where you don't have... Ed Exley: Dudley, I know you mean well, but I don't need to do it the way you did.
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