Monk (season 8)

season of television series

Seasons: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 | Main

Monk (2002–2009) is a television comedy drama created by Andy Breckman about Adrian Monk, a former detective, and now consultant, for the San Francisco Police Department who suffers from a number of psychological disorders, including obsessive-compulsive disorder and several phobias.

Mr. Monk's Favorite Show edit

Kim Kelly: It's $1000 per week.
Monk: Okay, but I can't pay it all at once.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [reading] "Her former costar, Steven Dorn, declared 'Christine Rapp is dead to me'."
Steven Dorn: That is a figure of speech.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: "'She's a loudmouth, a liar, and a tramp. Next time I run into her, I hope I'm driving a truck.'"
Monk: Did you say that? Why would you say that?
Steven Dorn: Because she's a loudmouth, a liar, and a tramp.

Mr. Monk and the Foreign Man edit

Samuel Waingaya: Can you reach into my pants?
[Long pause]
Monk: Yes...

Natalie: Are you trying to impress that girl?
Lt. Disher: What girl?
Natalie: The CSI tech. You think that's a quality she's looking for in a man? Do you think she's saying, "Why can't I meet an attractive 30-something nonsmoker who's oblivious to the stench of rotting flesh?"

[at a laundromat]
Monk: Okay, this is how we do our laundry in America. There are your whites.
Samuel Waingaya: My whites, excellent.
Monk: Your off-whites. Your off-off-whites. There are the primary colors, red, yellow, green, blue, and that’s indigo. Left socks, right socks. I’ve labeled them for you.
Samuel Waingaya: But in Nigeria, we just wash all of our socks together.
Monk: Well, I don’t like to judge people, but that’s wrong.
Samuel Waingaya: So you mean you separate everything? But how much is that going to cost?
Monk: $200.

Laundry Customer: Excuse me, are you using all the machines?
Samuel Waingaya: That's right.
Laundry Customer: But they're empty.
Samuel Waingaya That is the pre-wash cleansing cycle.
Laundry Customer: The pre-wash what?
Samuel Waingaya: The cleansing cycle. If you are going to live here, you should learn some of the customs. [to Monk] Did you see that, with the finger? What does that mean?
Monk: That means "We're number one" and we should hurry.

Mr. Monk and the UFO edit

[At the hotel the morning after Monk and Natalie see the UFO]
Oxygen Women: Hi, is this the lobby?
Natalie: It's right over there.
Oxygen Women: What's going on here, is there a loser convention in town?
Natalie: Oh, somebody saw a flying saucer.
Oxygen Women: A flying saucer?
Monk: I know.
Oxygen Women: The image I saw was a clearly Class IV Intergalactic Doomfreighter. Flying saucer? They're coming for the oxygen. [pulls an oxygen mask out of her trunk and puts it on] Have the negotiations started yet?
Natalie: Oh, we haven't heard! [to Monk] I'm going to call the repair shop to see if the car is ready.
Monk: Yeah, dial fast, dial like the wind!

Natalie: You just walked around rearranging spoons and plates and sweeping up crumbs. Couldn't you have at least tried?
Monk: I tried. I smiled. I smiled a lot.
Natalie: You were wincing!
Monk: That's my smile. That's how I smile.

Monk: [lost in the desert] You win, dirt! Congratulations, dirt! Well played!

[Monk has gone to the sheriff's office in Vintonville to report a UFO sighting]
Sheriff Fletcher: You saw a UFO?
Monk: No. No, I didn't say that.
Sheriff Fletcher: Oh. So, uh, was it an object?
Monk: Yes.
Sheriff Fletcher: Uh, could you identify it?
Monk: No, no.
Sheriff Fletcher: And it was flying.
Monk: Yes.
Sheriff Fletcher: You add that all up, Mr. Monk, you've got yourself a UFO.

[The Sheriff's been shot]
Sheriff Fletcher: One of us is going to have to go get help. The highway's about 15 miles that way.
Monk: All right, Natalie and I will go.
Natalie: Mr. Monk, we can't leave him, he's been shot.
Monk:' All right. Natalie and I will stay here.
Natalie: Mr. Monk, he can't walk.
Monk: Well, what do you suggest, Natalie? Do you have any ideas at all?
Natalie: Yeah, you get help, I stay here and take care of the sheriff.
Monk: Any ideas at all? Because if you do I'd really like to hear them.

Mr. Monk is Someone Else edit

Monk: This coffee is horrible. Tastes like BM.
Lt. Disher: It's iced tea.
Monk: Heat it up.
Lt. Disher: So, you want tea?
Monk: No, I want warm iced tea!

Monk: [looking at a photo of Frank DePalma] Oh my God! It's me!
Capt. Stottlemeyer: He's your twin!
Lt. Disher: That's your doppelgänger. They say everyone's got one.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Who says that?
Lt. Disher: People... and their doppelgängers.

[Monk is run through Frank DePalma's biography by Agent Stone]
Agent Stone: You were born and raised?
Monk: 829 Chambers Street, Allston, Massachusetts, 1953. Parents Joseph and Helen. He was professional gambler; died when I was 14. [Stone presses a button. The projector shows DePalma's mugshot]
Agent Stone: Your first arrest?
Monk: October 27, 1997, assault and battery. I did two and a half years at Joliet, and my cellmate's name was Barry "The Maggot" Franklin. [Stone changes the projector to an image of a man on his cell phone]
Agent Stone: Your first contract kill?
Monk: November 13, 1999, Key West - real estate billionaire Donnie Hernandez. I blew up his yacht; made it look like a fuel leak.

[Lola has learned that "DePalma" has a new girlfriend]
Lola: What was her name?
Monk: Natalie. Natalie Teegerb. [In the FBI van, everyone turns their eyes on Natalie]
Lola: Teegerb?
Monk: With a "B" on the end. It's Canadian. it's French Canadian.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: [in the van] Well I guess you have a date, "Miss Teegerb".

[Monk and Natalie enter Stottlemeyer's office]
Natalie: Captain, do you have a minute? Mr. Monk would like to say something.
Monk: [from outside] Sorry.
Natalie: Mr. Monk, you have to do it in person.
[Monk comes into the room]
Monk: I'm sorry.
Natalie: Show him the card. Go ahead, read it. [Monk pulls the card from his jacket]
Monk: "I was 'udderly' wrong." It's a cow. Udders. "I'm sorry if I upset you. Please give me another chance. I would hate for my careless gesture to spoil our fine romance." It's the only one they had.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Thank you, Monk. I realize how hard this must have been for you to have Natalie buy it for you.
Natalie: Okay, I bought it, but Mr. Monk paid for it. Or he will.

Mr. Monk Takes the Stand edit

D.A. Charles Friedken: Now, did everyone review the grand jury transcripts and the follow-up reports?
Natalie: Mr. Friedken, don't worry. They can do this in their sleep.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: In fact, on at least two occasions, Lieutenant Disher has.

[Monk squeals through clenched teeth when trying to describe Evan Gildea's nude sculpture]
Harrison Powell: Mr. Monk, are you okay?
Monk: I'm fine.
Judge Santa Croce: You were making a noise.
Monk: I don't think so.
Judge Santa Croce: Could you read that back, please?
Court Stenographer: "Witness: The defendant removed a sheet revealing a naked eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...".

Harrison Powell: Do you really want to go up against me again, Former Detective Monk?
Monk: Yes I do. I'll see you on the ball field.
Harrison Powell: The ball field?
Monk: I've seen your curveball. I can hit it now.
Harrison Powell: Oh, I'm really looking forward to this.
Monk: No, you're not.

Natalie: You're going to do great. You've seen his curveball.
Monk: I don't even know what that means. I can't believe I'm doing this again.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: I'm proud of you, man. You're getting back on the horse.
Lt. Disher: Yeah, Monk, okay, a couple of suggestions. Just a thought, maybe work on not crying--I mean, not quite so much in front of the jury.
Monk: Okay, that's a good note.
Natalie: Yeah, also, you can think "mayday" all you want, but it's probably a mistake to yell the word "mayday" from the witness stand.
Monk: Did I do that?
Natalie: Just a couple times.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: More than a couple of times.
Monk: I'd better write these down.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: There are no timeouts.
Natalie: Right.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: No do-overs.
Natalie: No heavy, heavy, sweating.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, no, no, no.

Mr. Monk and the Critic edit

Monk: [after leaving the immaculately clean men's room at the theatre, complete with attendant] I just went to the bathroom.
Natalie: [astonished] What, here? Wow! Congratulations, Mr. Monk, I'm proud of you. How was it?
Adrian Monk: It was magical.

[Stottlemeyer notices that Randy is not present in Callie Esterhaus's hotel room]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Where the hell is Randy?
Natalie: Oh, I sent him out to get a newspaper.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: [in disbelief] You? You, you sent Randy out? Well, who are you, the new police commissioner?
Natalie: The morning edition comes out at midnight! They're gonna review Julie's play!
Capt. Stottlemeyer: For the love of god, he's a police lieutenant, not a bellhop! Though maybe he is.

[Monk, Stottlemeyer and Disher are at Winberrie's, questioning a colleague of Callie Esterhaus]
Lt. Disher: We, uh, found a date book in her apartment. She referred to a man by initial - J. Does that mean anything? [He starts to write something down in his notebook]
Miranda: Maybe his name began with a J?
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Did you just write that down?
Lt. Disher: I put a question mark after it.
[A few feet away, Natalie is grousing about Hannigan's review of Julie's play]
Natalie: "A corny-cliche filled performance"?! How can he say that?! It's just not true! [Monk walks over]
Monk: I thought you threw that out!
Natalie: I bought another one!
Monk: Natalie, stop torturing yourself! You've become obsessed with this review!
Natalie: Look who's talking!
Monk: That's true. Okay, I get obsessed too, but I can handle it. I've had years of experience.
Natalie: How can he call her forgettable?! My daughter is not forgettable! [Monk tries to shush Natalie as Stottlemeyer, exasperated, comes over]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Excuse me! I'm sorry to interrupt you, but what homicide case are you working on? Because we're working on the Callie Esterhaus case. Maybe you remember that? Natalie, forget the review!
Natalie: He broke my little girl's heart! [snatches the newspaper from her]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Julie's a tough kid!
Natalie: He called her forgettable!
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well don't just stand here whining about it! Why don't you go yell at what's-his-face, the critic? His office is five blocks up the street! Go on. [Natalie takes off] Sorry about that. She's had a tough day.
Miranda: Did she know Callie too?
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Uh, yeah. She did. [Monk turns when he hears the newspaper vending machine open]
Monk: Natalie, what are you- [It's just another man purchasing a newspaper] Where did she go?

[Gilson has been brought into the hospital]
Monk: Can we talk to him?
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Maybe not for a while. He's in a coma. So how do you know this guy?
Monk: He's-He's my men's room attendant.
Natalie: It was John Hannigan.
Lt. Disher: Oh no-
Natalie: It had to be him. He worked at the theater.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Teeger, give it a rest! Are you going to blame every crime in California on this man? [Monk looks at Gilson's belongings]
Monk: Nicotine gum?
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah we already checked, he never smoked. It's probably a gift for somebody else.
[Monk looks at Gilson's wristwatch and its luminescent dial, and notices something]
Monk: Wait... don't hug me. You're gonna want to hug me, but don't hug me.
Natalie: Why?
Monk: You were right about Hannigan, he's the guy.
Natalie: [hugging Monk] Oh, I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!

[Natalie hands Monk a check to recruit him to investigate]
Monk: What's this?
Natalie: A check for $300. I'm hiring you, Mr. Monk. I need your help. I can't do it myself.
Monk: Oh, this check's no good.
Natalie: That's sweet of you to say, but...
Monk: No, I mean it's literally no good. You can't cover this.
Natalie: Sure I can. I just deposited my paycheck on Wednesday.
Monk: Right. But I happen to know that that check is going to bounce. So this check is pretty much worthless.
Natalie: You wrote me a bad check? How could you do that?
Monk: I might ask you the same question.
Natalie: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Your check was bad first!
Monk: Natalie, there's no right and wrong here. It's all tangled up. One check, another check. It's like the chicken and the egg.
Natalie: No, it's not! There... there's no egg here. There's no egg. This is all chicken!

Mr. Monk and the Voodoo Curse edit

[Monk, Stottlemeyer and Disher are trying to figure out what really happened to Martha Murphy]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Whaddaya think, act of God? [Monk nods] So how do you explain the doll?
Monk: I can't explain it, yet.
Lt. Disher: What, you want me to start rounding up witch doctors?
Capt. Stottlemeyer: That'd make a hell of a line up. [Monk, Stottlemeyer and Disher chuckle to themselves, but Natalie is not impressed]
Natalie: You know what? It's not funny! I used to laugh about it, too.
Monk About what?
Natalie: Voodoo. Black magic.
Monk: Wait, you don't actually believe in that stuff?
Natalie: Somebody predicted that that poor woman would get hit by a baseball three days before it happened! How would you explain it?
Monk: I don't know-
Lt. Disher: Oh, I've got it. Well she came by here every day. Right? So maybe the killer was waiting, behind that tree with a baseball gun.
Natalie: A baseball gun? There's no such thing!
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah, but there are pitching machines.
Natalie: All right, how would your baseball gun killer-
Lt. Disher: That's a good name for him actually.
Natalie: ...how would he know that a home run would be hit at exactly that moment? And what happened to the other baseball? [no response from Monk, Stottlemeyer and Disher] It's voodoo, it's real, and it kills people!
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Okay, how 'bout this? She had an insurance policy with a no-suicide clause. So she had to make it look like an accident. She came here, she waited for a home run to be hit. She grabs the ball... and cracks her own cranium. [mimics hitting his head with a ball]
Natalie: [incredulous] With a baseball? She fractured her cranium?
Capt. Stottlemeyer: [matter-of-factly] Yeah.
Natalie: Was she that strong?
Monk, Stottlemeyer and Disher: Yeah, she exercised.
Natalie: I think voodoo's looking better and better.
Monk: All right, let's be rational! We live in the real world. It is governed by science, physics, laws of nature. There is always, always a non-voodoo explanation for everything!
Natalie: Except voodoo. [Randy takes a call on his cell phone]
Monk: I don't understand! Did some gypsy put a curse on you when you were a child?
Natalie: I don't wanna talk about it!
Lt. Disher: [on his phone] We'll be right there. [hangs up]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Randy, what is it?
Lt. Disher: There's been another doll.

[Jorgenson does a cleansing ritual on Natalie]
Reverend Jorgensen: Mr. Monk, if you would be so kind as to reattach it's head. Here's some adhesive. [He hands the two materials to Monk as he adds ingredients] Some witchgrass. Some coltsfoot. [He adds Mandrake root] Ah. Mandrake root. Smidgen more. [Adds a little more] All I need now is the doll. [Monk continues trying to get the doll's head centered]
Monk: Okay, one second.
Reverend Jorgensen: It doesn't have to be perfect.
Monk: Almost done.
Reverend Jorgensen: It's symbolic, really.
Monk: There we go.
Reverend Jorgensen: The forces of darkness are gathering.
Monk: Hold on.
Reverend Jorgensen: It doesn't have to be perfect!
Monk: Wait a second.
Reverend Jorgensen: It doesn't have to be perfect.
Monk: One second, almost done.
Reverend Jorgensen: Doesn't...
Monk: Wait one second.
Natalie: Mr. Monk, please, just let him finish!
Monk: Hold on...
Reverend Jorgensen: She's suffering, Mr. Monk! It doesn't have to be... okay, that's close enough. [grabs the doll from Monk].

[Natalie accidentally drinks the potion]
Reverend Jorgensen: What did you do?!?
Natalie: What?
Reverend Jorgensen: Did you drink that?
Natalie: Yeah, you said it was ready.
Reverend Jorgensen: You're supposed to rub it on your neck. What, are you mental?
Monk: What do we do?
Reverend Jorgensen: What? 911. 911! 911!
Monk: Another chant?
Reverend Jorgensen: No! Call 911!

[Stottlemeyer notices that Monk is less superstitious about voodoo than Natalie is]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Wait, let me get my head around this: you are the level-headed, brave one now?
Lt. Disher: [looking out the window] She's shaking her head.
Monk: It's this voodoo stuff. She believes it.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, I can't really blame her. We've all got the heebie-jeebies. Say hello to Doll #3. [Monk looks at the doll]
Monk: Heart attack.
Lt. Disher: Victim #3, Robert Boyd, 64. Guy was a big fish, he owned Boyd Teletronics, you know, the cell phone company? [He points to Angeline a few feet away] According to his niece, Angeline Dilworth - that's her over there - she's been worried about him, especially this past week.
Monk: Why's that?
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Apparently he was obsessed with the voodoo killings. He was watching the news, following the case...
Lt. Disher: He's real superstitious.
Adrian Monk: So I see.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: So this morning, he goes to collect the mail, including this box-
Lt. Disher: Same as the others - it was postmarked three days ago, no return address. He opens the box, sees the doll, Bob's your uncle, his heart just stopped.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: "Bob's your uncle"? That doesn't sound right.

[The police station is swarming with activity. A detective drops a box on Stottlemeyer's desk as Stottlemeyer talks on the phone]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: No-no-no-no, no toche la muneca ["Do not touch the doll"], you understand me? Do not touch la muneca! Don't touch anything! [he listens] Look, we'll have an officer there in 20 minutes! [He hangs up and turns to Monk] I told the Mayor not to go public; now we've got fifty copycats out there, half the town is getting voodoo dolls in the mail and all of them want a squad car in their driveway!
Monk: Yeah but these are the four; the only four that count. [He walks over to a bulletin board containing photos (from left to right) of Natalie, Martha Murphy, Robert Boyd, and Ralph Farris, with each person's respective doll being placed underneath their head shot] The same wrapping paper, same handwriting. That's strange: he doesn't write the address on the boxes. He uses these labels. [He scans the address labels]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: It's the damndest thing, huh?
Monk: What about the victims? Is there any connection?
Capt. Stottlemeyer: No. No, the FBI's been running their names all day. There's no connection. Oh, and here's some more bad news: our primary suspect - our only suspect - is not gonna fly. [Takes a surveillance photo of Jorgensen off the board]
Monk: Hmmm, the guy who was selling all the dolls?
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Reverend Jorgensen. He's got an alibi for all three victims.
Monk: And now Natalie.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: And now Natalie. How's she doing?
Monk: Uh, scared to death. I just talked to Randy; she hasn't gotten off the couch all day. Now he says she's wearing one of those plastic dog funnels around her neck!
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well that can't be good.

Mr. Monk Goes to Group Therapy edit

Lt. Disher: Could be a serial killer. He's killing people according to their phobias. This guy was afraid of heights, so he pushed him off the roof.
Monk: Augie wasn't afraid of heights. He was afraid of spiders.
Lt. Disher: That's different. He's killing people using the opposite of their phobias. The Opposite Killer.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: So you're saying the opposite of a spider is a tall building?
Lt. Disher: What do you think the opposite of a spider?
Capt. Stottlemeyer: I have no idea, but it's not a tall building.
Lt. Disher: Hmm, tell that to the Opposite Killer.
Natalie: Are you crying?
Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, I have allergies.

Lt. Disher: It's him. The Opposite Killer. That's his M.O.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: There is no "Opposite Killer"! If there was, you would have been killed by a falling rocket scientist years ago!

Harold Krenshaw: We need your strength, Neven. Your guidance. You're the beacon. you're the light that will see us through our darkest hour.
Rhonda: So, Harold, how is it up there in Neven's butt? You lonely? Getting scared of the dark?

[Natalie finds an important letter from Monk's HMO]
Natalie: Uh-oh.
Monk: What is it?
Natalie: It's from your HMO.
Monk: Oh. Don't open that.
Natalie: It says "important."
Monk: All the more reason--just throw it out.
Natalie: Maybe it's good news.
Monk: Yeah, good news from my HMO. What do you think--I won a free colonscopy?

Monk: We have to find a phone and call the police.
Harold Krenshaw: There's not enough time. It takes the police four minutes and 20 seconds to get here. Don't ask.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Monk edit

Monk: Why did the captain want to see me again?
Natalie: I told you. It's a double homicide in Marin County.
Monk: You said triple homicide.
Natalie: I don't think so.
Monk: You said "triple". All right. What happened, did someone get better?

Natalie: I am not giving up, Mr. Monk. You are officially on notice. I am throwing you a party.
Monk: As a matter of fact, you are not.
Natalie: Oh, yes I am. We're going to have balloons and cake and dancing!
Monk: Oh, for the love of God, why?
Natalie: Because, Mr. Monk, it's your birthday, and whether you like it or not, you have friends who love you and want to celebrate your life. We're happy you were born.
Monk: You are so cruel.
[They see a small sheet on a stretcher covering what remains of Bradley Foster]
Natalie: Oh my God! Where's the rest of him? [Stottlemeyer and some other cops come up from beneath the compactor]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: That's all there is [of him].
Natalie: But he's all... squished!
Capt. Stottlemeyer: His name was Bradley Foster; he was the maintenance man. Apparently he fell into the trash compactor.
Lt. Disher: We've sent a guy to check the parking lot for his car.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: I'd look for a compact. [The other cops burst out laughing]
Natalie: That's not funny!
Uniformed Cop #2: Hey did you see what he was wearing? Those aren't briefs; they're more like boxers! [more laughter].

[The team is searching Bradley Foster's apartment]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Excuse me, but do I have to remind both of you that two nights ago the guy who lived here got torn apart in a trash compactor?
Natalie: I bet he was "surprised"!
Capt. Stottlemeyer: [to Monk] I know she's been trying to throw you a party, and, um, she's going to. Oh, she's gonna get you.
Natalie: I'm gonna get you.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: But this is a murder victim's place of residence. Do you honestly think she would do it here?
Monk: No. No, I don't. And that is precisely why I do. And because I do, I don't. So yes, I do.

[Monk, Natalie, Stottlemeyer, Disher, and T.K. are recreating the murder of Richard Meckler]
Lt. Disher: A blow dart, you know, a poison dart.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: What happened to the dart? It would have been sticking in his neck.
Lt. Disher: Not necessarily. There could have been a long elastic wire attached to the blowdart. [pause] They're called dartarangs.
Trudy "T.K." Jensen: How do you know they're called dartarangs?
Lt. Disher: Because they're probably called dartarangs. Or at least that's what they should be called.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: [whispers to T.K.] Just nod your head and say "Maybe".
Trudy "T.K." Jensen: Maybe.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Interesting, Randy. Interesting.

[Monk and Natalie are being followed by a Cadillac Escalade]
Monk: We're being followed.
Natalie: Oh my God. Oh my God. What do I do? [The car phone rings; Stottlemeyer's name appears on the display] It's the Captain. [They answer]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Are you guys okay?
Natalie: We're being followed.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Is it a black SUV?
Monk: Yes.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Nevada plates?
Monk: Yes.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: OK, stay calm. We just got word that someone put out a $20,000 contract on your life.
Monk: A contract?
Natalie: On both of us, or just him?

[Monk and Natalie are being chased at a construction site and have to hide.]
Natalie: [sees an empty trash dumpster] The dumpster. The dumpster.
Monk: Uh, I can't.
Natalie: [spots a port-a-john] The port-a-john.
Monk: Have we met?!
Natalie: Mr. Monk, you have to choose.
Monk: I choose death!

Mr. Monk and Sharona edit

[Sharona surprises Stottlemeyer]
Sharona: Excuse me, I'd like a lodge a complaint against one of your officers.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: [not looking up] What did he do?
Sharona: He hasn't written or called me in five years.
[Stottlemeyer looks up and sees Sharona standing in the doorway].

[Stottlemeyer warns Monk about how working with both Natalie and Sharona is dangerous]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: You're gonna have a breakdown. I love Natalie. And I love Sharona, too. They're both wonderful women. You got lucky twice. But together, they're like bourbon and vodka: I love them both, but I can't have them at the same meal because they don't mix. These women are so different, Monk. They're going to tear you apart like a piece of saltwater taffy.
Monk: I know, I've been a piece of taffy all day. Natalie's been acting like Mary, Queen of Scots. She wants more money. I mean, she won't lay down in the dirt when I ask her. I'm losing her.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: And it's only gonna get worse.

[Monk, Natalie and Sharona try to argue as to the best way up to Perry Walsh's ninth floor apartment. Natalie wants to take the stairs and Sharona wants to take the elevator]
Natalie: How about this? It's the ninth floor, right? [bangs on the elevator call button] Let's take the elevator up to four and then walk up five flights!
Monk: Yeah, that sounds fair.
Sharona: Or we take the elevator up to level five and walk up four flights!
Monk: Can't argue with that.
Sharona: You treat him like a child!
Natalie: He's not a child!
Sharona: I did not say he's a child! I said you're treating him like a child!
Natalie: Oh, I'm being supportive!
Sharona: No, you're not being supportive! You're enabling him- [Monk, pacing back and forth, interrupts]
Monk: Okay, here's what we're gonna do: we're going to take the elevator up to 18 and walk down nine flights. That way everybody's miserable. [cuts to Carolyn Walsh opening the door to find Monk, Natalie and Sharona sweating and almost out of breath].

Natalie: Well, he can't go too far. He can't sleep without his Trudy pillow.
Sharona: Or that special red toothbrush.
Natalie: Or his little flossing kit.
Sharona: Or the sound machine with that foghorn noise.
Natalie: Actually, that one broke. And they discontinued the model.
Sharona: Really? What did you do?
Natalie: I went out and bought an actual foghorn and made my own tape. [laughs] I'm not kidding! I have an actual foghorn sitting in my garage!

[As Monk, Natalie and Sharona travel across the golf course to find Perry Walsh, Sharona can't help but notice that Natalie always refers to Monk as "Mr. Monk"]
Sharona: Do you mind if she calls you Adrian?
Monk: Of course not. Why would I mind?
Natalie: Okay. Adrian.
Monk: Yeah, see I don't like it either.
Natalie: Me neither.

Mr. Monk and the Dog edit

[At Natalie's family reunion picnic.]
Anne Marie: Are you my uncle?
Monk: No, no. I'm your Aunt Natalie's boss.
Anne Marie: Really? Do you know her other boss? The crazy one?
Monk: ...Yes. [referring to himself] I've met him once or twice.

Capt. Stottlemeyer: [talking to a search party] Thank you all once again for coming. You know the situation. We're looking for a woman. Her name is Amanda Castle.
Lt. Disher: Although any dead body would be of interest to us.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Thank you, Randy.

[DeWitt has nearly tried to kill Shelby and Monk is telling Stottlemeyer about this]
Lt. Disher: Now he's afraid that she'll identify him.
Monk: How?
Lt. Disher: She could bark at him.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Randy, as far as I know, in the State of California, dogs are not allowed to testify in open court.
Lt. Disher: Maybe DeWitt's afraid they'll change the rule.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Change the rule against dogs testifying in court?
Lt. Disher: I don't know, one of those referendums. It is California.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: You want to know how tired I am? I'm so tired I don't even know if that makes sense.

Natalie: [examining a painting] Could be a lover?
Monk: How do you figure?
Natalie: Well, he's naked, and, uh... lower right corner?
Monk: Oh. Oh! Oh, I thought that was the signature.

Monk: [about Shelby] This dog is really, really smart. I've been teaching her tricks.
Lt. Disher: Like?
Monk: Oh, like not to lick me, not to drool, not to roll over, not to, you know, discharge anything.

Mr. Monk Goes Camping edit

Natalie: It's not too late to back out.
Monk: Oh no, I am doing this, I am playing the game.
Natalie: Well, at least try to have some fun.
Monk: Natalie, it's a game; it's not supposed to be fun.

Monk: I don't know how you do it.
Lt. Disher: What's that?
Monk: How you take it. People joke around, tease you, you never get mad or upset.
Lt. Disher: Mmm, it used to bother me when I was coming up in uniform. I heard people laughing, telling Randy Disher stories. And it hurt, you know? I almost quit.
Monk: What happened?
Lt. Disher: One night I got a call - a P-300 downtown. There was a bumper sticker on one of the cars, and it said, "Happiness is a choice." I mean, I know it sounds crazy, but it changed my life. I mean, I made a decision right there. I chose to be happy. I mean, I really believe that. I mean, you have the power. You can choose to be happy.
Monk: I guess I should read more bumper stickers.
Lt. Disher: [yawning] Everybody should. Okay, it's late. I'm gonna to go sack out.
Monk: Yeah, good night.
Lt. Disher: See you in the morning.
Monk: Wait a minute. P-300? Isn't that a fatality?
Lt. Disher: Yeah, it was pretty ugly. The driver hit a tractor-trailer head on. He and his wife were both DOA [Dead on arrival].
Monk: And this was the car that had the bumper sticker, "Happiness is a choice"?
Lt. Disher: Yeah, that's right. Well, actually, it was on fire when I got there, so it was hard to read.
Monk: And this didn't deter you or make you think twice?
Lt. Disher: [shrugs] It was an epiphany, Monk. You can't just choose where you get it. I mean it could come from a guru on a mountaintop, or it could be from a bumper sticker on a burning Subaru.

Lt. Disher: I'm taking four kids camping this weekend. It's going to be so much fun. Everybody's going to get a badge.
Monk: Almost everybody.
Lt. Disher: Hey, do you want to come? I could use the help.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Eh, no.
Lt. Disher: Do you have plans?
Capt. Stottlemeyer: No.
Lt. Disher: You're not feeling well?
Capt. Stottlemeyer: No.
Lt. Disher: Well, I hope you feel better.

Mr. Monk Is the Best Man edit

Lt. Disher: [practicing his song that he will sing at Leland and T.K.'s wedding] "Cupid was a gun for hire. Took aim at Leland Stottlemeyer. Who's love was wallowed in the mire. We love you, TK Stottlemeyer! Mr. and Mrs. Stottlemeyerrr..."
Natalie: Sounds a little bit like "Light My Fire".
Lt. Disher: What part?
Natalie: The words. And the music. Why don't you just play "The Wedding March"?

[Monk is holding Leland's bachelor party at his apartment]
Monk: Okay, does everybody have pizza?
First Cop: Uh, there's nothing on it. [The pizzas have been ordered "extra plain," with absolutely no cheese or sauce on them!]
Monk: I know! I ordered plain.
First Cop: Not even cheese?
Monk: I ordered extra plain. No fuss, no muss. And use your coasters. [puts an apple juice container on top of a coaster] All right, the large coasters go under the small coasters. And there's trash bags in the kitchen. Everyone gets one, I put your names at the top.
[In the hallway, another cop heads to the bathroom. He opens the bathroom door, only to discover that the bathroom space has been taken up by a port-a-potty]
Second Cop: Monk, there's a bathroom in the bathroom!
Monk: Where do you want me to put it, Mike? In the kitchen?

Monk: All right, I would like to say a few words about our friend, Leland Francis Stottlemeyer.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Thank you, thank you very much.
Monk: [reads from a notecard] And it goes like this: "A man walks into a bar with a duck on his head." There's more, there's more. "The bartender says, 'Say, aren't you Leland Stottlemeyer, whose first marriage was annulled after five days, and whose second wife, Karen, left him after 20 years? And then you dated Linda Fusco, who was later convicted of first-degree murder?'" Wait, wait. "And then Leland says, 'That's right.' And then the bartender says, 'Every relationship you've ever had has ended in disaster! And you wanna get married again? You're crazy! No wonder you have a duck on your head!'" And Leland says-
Capt. Stottlemeyer: And Leland says, "I need a drink!" [He gets much applause from the other cops].

Capt. Stottlemeyer: Stephanie! Do you have a minute?
Stephanie Briggs: Actually, Leland, I'm a little busy right now. Can it wait?
Capt. Stottlemeyer: No. It really can't.
Monk: You say you've known T.K. for twelve years?
Stephanie Briggs: Yeah.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Where were you before that? You never said.
Monk: Who were you before that? [Stottlemeyer starts to advance on Stephanie]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: You ever heard of a group called the Earth Avengers?
Stephanie Briggs: What are you talking about?
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Martin Kettering. Was he a friend of yours?
Stephanie Briggs: Leland, I know that you've been through a hard week, but-
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Here's what I know: I know that we're going back inside. We have a few things to talk about.
[Stephanie produces a Kahr K9 handgun from the tuxedo bag]
Stephanie Briggs: Okay not today, Leland.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: I'll bet you a week's pay that that's a .9 millimeter.
Monk: That's the gun you killed Martin Kettering with.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: What was it doing with my tuxedo?
Monk: That's what this whole thing has been about. You were in that group with Martin Kettering, and you've been a fugitive for 12 years.
Stephanie Briggs: Just shut up.
Monk: I already started. It's very hard for me to stop.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: It's true, you have to let him finish. Go ahead.

[As Stephanie Briggs is forcing Monk and Stottlemeyer into her car at gunpoint, T.K. comes running up to Stottlemeyer]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Just go home. We have nothing more to say, just go home.
Monk: He doesn't wanna talk to you any more. He hates your... guts.
Trudy "T.K." Jensen: All I wanted to say is, I love you. I'm not leaving you again. [Stephanie produces the gun and points it at T.K.]
Stephanie Briggs: In that case, you're coming with us. Get in the car, T.K! [T.K. gasps, shocked at what Stephanie has turned out to be]
Monk: Not in the front, though, 'cause I'm-
Capt. Stottlemeyer: [to T.K.] Don't worry. It's not loaded.
Stephanie Briggs: Oh, it's not, huh? [She fires a live round into the air, but fails to see the slide lock back]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: It's empty now. [produces the gun's magazine] Here's your clip. You had one in the chamber. You're under arrest; turn around. [He shoves her into the side of her car]
Stephanie Briggs: Ow! That hurt!
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Good. [He handcuffs her, and hands her off to Monk, who leads her away. Stottlemeyer turns to T.K.] Are you gonna marry me or not?
Trudy "T.K." Jensen: Absolutely.

Mr. Monk and the Badge edit

Monk: You polished the bullets.
Natalie: Yeah, you don't want to shoot anybody with a dirty bullet.
Monk: Yeah, they might get a infection. God, we're funny together.
Natalie: We are.

[Stottlemeyer is doing the roll call and morning announcements to the detectives]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Adrian Monk is back. Back where he belongs. [Monk stands up and reads from a notecard]
Monk: Seventy years ago, Thomas Wolf wrote, "You can't go home again..."
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Monk, you don't have to say anything.
Monk: Thank God. [sits down]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Okay, our first order of business is the Pick Axe Killer.
Lt. Disher: The Gold Rush Killer.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: It's not the Gold Rush Killer, Randy.
Lt. Disher: But they used pickaxes.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Randy, forget about the Gold Rush Killer! Okay?
Lt. Disher: Yes, sir.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: We're moving on. Now, I don't have to tell you how important this case is but we have caught a break. We have a witness - a woman who lived down the hall from victim #5 has given us a description of the killer.

Detective Jones: Now that, gentleman, is what you call a real woman.
Detective Louis Doyle: No doubt about it.
Monk: You can tell. No Adam's apple.

[Monk has captured Mikhail Almonov]
Sergeant Danny Weaver: Nice work, detective.
Monk: Former detective.
Sergeant Danny Weaver: Former former detective.
Monk: Former former former detective.

Lt. Disher: [about Monk, at Officer Russell DiMarco's wake] I don't see him.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: He's here somewhere. Separated the fruit salad.

Mr. Monk and the End, Part 1 edit

Trudy Monk: It won't be much longer...

Doctor: [to Monk] Someone is trying to kill you. And they may have succeeded.

Monk: Randy, I'm not pregnant. Just dying.

Dr. Matthew Shuler: Now, you're going to feel normal for a while and then there's gonna be some vomiting, followed by death.
Monk: [disbelief] Vomiting?
Dr. Matthew Shuler: Followed by death.
Monk: [still in shock] Vomiting?
Dr. Matthew Shuler: And then death.
Monk: Is there any chance death could come before the vomiting?

Judge Ethan Rickover: His name is Adrian Monk. He'll put two and two together eventually and this case, two and two equals me. It would get rather personal. He'd come after me, try to kill me. He'd probably succeed. Because... twelve years ago, I killed his wife.

Mr. Monk and the End, Part 2 edit

Trudy Monk: [on a farewell message] Hello Adrian. If you're watching this, it means I'm dead. I know we said we'd never have any secrets but... there's something I never told you. Something happened, something terrible... years ago, before we met. I know you've always idealized me, you think I'm some sort of saint. But sweetheart I am not perfect. I made a mistake, a big mistake. It was fifteen years ago. Before we met, I had an affair, with my law professor. He was married at the time, I swear I didn't know that. We... well, I was pregnant... I know you're disappointed. I didn't love him, I didn't... even really know him, but I loved being pregnant. It was a girl. She was born January 2nd, 1983... She died the same day. She lived for nine minutes. I never... saw her. I never even saw her. Anyway, the father, the professor, his name is Ethan Rickover and he's a judge now, he's just been nominated to the Court of Appeals which is why I'm making this tape because the woman who's been missing all week, Wendy Stroud, is the midwife who delivered my daughter. And Ethan called me, yesterday. And just, out of the blue, I mean, I haven't talked to him in over ten years and he- he wants to meet me tomorrow. And I don't know, maybe I'm just being paranoid, but... there was just something in his voice, it just... it scared me, you know? And Ethan has a- he has a dark side, I mean, I know it I've seen it. I know what he's capable of and... anyway. That's why I'm making this tape. And if I'm wrong, which I'm sure I am, and... nothing happens, then I'll just switch it out for that digital watch that you've been asking for. But if I'm right, and something happens, I wanted you to know everything. Cause you deserve to know everything. Adrian... you are more than the love of my life. You are my life. You are... my life.

Judge Ethan Rickover: You're going to kill a federal judge?
Monk: Tonight, I'm the judge.

Judge Ethan Rickover: [last words] You take care of her!

Natalie: [to Monk] Trudy sent you a gift. She sent you someone to love. It's what you've been missing.

Lt. Disher: [on the phone] All right, I'll call you later. [hangs up]
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Who was that?
Lt. Disher: That was the Deputy Commissioner.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: Deputy Commissioner Patrick Watson?
Lt. Disher: Yeah, that's right.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: You said, "I love you."
Lt. Disher: I do... love him. I think he's doing a great job. Why? Why? You don't think he's...
Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, I think he's doing a fine job. I don't tell him that I love him.
Lt. Disher: Well, maybe you should. It's just common courtesy.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: It's not common courtesy.
Lt. Disher: Well, I think you're doing a great job. I love you.
Capt. Stottlemeyer: All right, Randy, I'm sorry I asked. When you're ready to tell me what's really going on, don't.

[last lines of the series following up on the first episode of the series]
Natalie: What are you doing?
Monk: Just checking to make sure the stove is off.
Natalie: Good thinking. You wouldn't want to go all the way across town with your stove on.
Monk: I know. That actually happened to me a few years ago...