- Det. William 'Bunk' Moreland: [both investigating a crime scene] Ah, fuck.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: Motherfucker.
- Det. William 'Bunk' Moreland: Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: What the fuck?
- Det. William 'Bunk' Moreland: Ah fuck.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: Fuck! No.
- Det. William 'Bunk' Moreland: Ah,fuck.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: Fuck it. how the fuck?
- Det. William 'Bunk' Moreland: Motherfuck. Aw, fuck. Aw fuck.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: Fuckity, fuck fuck, fuck fuck, fucker. Ah fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
- Det. William 'Bunk' Moreland: Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck. Motherfucker.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: Fuckin' A. Fuck.
- Det. William 'Bunk' Moreland: What's that?
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: Motherfucker.
- Det. William 'Bunk' Moreland: Fuck me.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: How long you been in the pawn shop unit?
- Det. Lester Freamon: Thirteen years and four months.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: Thirteen years?
- Det. Lester Freamon: And four months.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: I gotta ask you, what exactly does a police officer assigned to the pawn shop unit do?
- Det. Lester Freamon: You intake reports from registered pawn shops on all items valued over $50. Then you make an index card for that item. Then you file that index card. If someone wants to find out if something stolen has been pawned, we look to see if we have an index card. If we do, we do. If we don't, we don't.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: You did that for thirteen years?
- Det. Lester Freamon: And four months.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: Why'd you ask out of homicide?
- Det. Lester Freamon: Wasn't no "ask" about it.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: You got the boot?
- Det. Lester Freamon: Uh-huh.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: What'd you do to piss 'em off?
- Det. Lester Freamon: Police work.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: I think I need to buy you a drink.
- Det. Lester Freamon: Just one?
- Sgt. Jay Landsman: [Landsman knocks on Rawls' door] Major, sir?
- Maj. William A. Rawls: Yeah.
- Sgt. Jay Landsman: I been thinkin'. It's a clear violation of the general orders, I know, but...
- [Rawls motions for Landsman to sit]
- Sgt. Jay Landsman: Last night, I'm at home, I'm sittin' up buck naked. And I, I got one hand wrapped around a cold domestic beer, and the other wrapped around my magnificent flaccid four-and-one-half-inch wonder, and I am trying with all my might to remember what Leila Kaufman's nipples looked like when her bathing top slipped off at the Hillendale Pool swim party.
- Maj. William A. Rawls: [chuckling] Leila Kaufman?
- Sgt. Jay Landsman: Yes, sir. Uh, summer of '72. I got this saucy wench in my gunsights, so to speak, and, uh... I am dangerously close to engorged when, all of a fuckin' sudden, out of fuckin' nowhere, fuckin' Detective fuckin' Jimmy McNulty pops into my head.
- Maj. William A. Rawls: McNulty?
- Sgt. Jay Landsman: Obviously, I gotta open my eyes and admit to myself that my whole night is ruined, at which point I got nothin' to do but think about the problems of Jimmy McNulty, because clearly, this guy and his fuckin' problems are standing between me and all worldly pleasure.
- Maj. William A. Rawls: Clearly.
- Sgt. Jay Landsman: First of all... it's not Jimmy's fault.
- Maj. William A. Rawls: No?
- Sgt. Jay Landsman: No. Jimmy is an addict, sir.
- Maj. William A. Rawls: What's he addicted to?
- Sgt. Jay Landsman: Himself.
- [Rawls laughs]
- Sgt. Jay Landsman: No, it's not funny, sir. As a matter of fact, it's a fuckin' tragedy, is what it is. The guy, he has come to believe that he is always the smartest fuck in the room. And you know what? It's not his fault, because let's face it, he's not goin' to Johns Hopkins or joining Mensa, he's taking a fuckin' job with the Bawlmer Police Department. His first two years in Homicide, he's in Ulmansky's squad, partnered with Tony LaMartino. Christ, it must've been months, even, he WAS the smartest fuck in the fuckin' room!
- Maj. William A. Rawls: What's your point, Jay?
- Sgt. Jay Landsman: My point is... he can't help it. It makes him an asshole, I know, but... it's also what makes him good police. Last year, he gives me eight clearances. One of them was a decomp floater who was John Doe for three weeks.
- [Rawls doesn't say anything; Landsman starts to stand]
- Maj. William A. Rawls: Tell your boy to wrap up that bullshit detail in two weeks. He does that, he comes home. Clean slate.
- [Landsman smiles and leaves]
- Det. Lester Freamon: Caught this case in the Brooklyn Homes, summer of '87. 80-year-old woman. Stabbed up, nightgown in bed, forced window, rear entry. Worked it for a couple of weeks, got the names of two squirrels over in Curtis Bay. Squirrel number one gives it up and tries to put all the weight on squirrel number two.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: Back up the statements?
- Det. Lester Freamon: Print hit on the rear window for number two, and another one for number one on the medicine chest.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: So it's down, yeah?
- Det. Lester Freamon: Mmm. Even better is when squirrel number one drives us by the house where they fenced the old lady's shit. Clock/radio, TV, toaster oven.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: So what's the problem?
- Det. Lester Freamon: The problem was the fence. Turned out he was the son of one of the big editors over at the News America. This man is runnin' the afternoon newspaper, and his son is gettin' all fucked up and doin' the dirt and gettin' high down on Locust Point. The deputy, who I guess is in a favor-doin' mood, sends word down to the major, I'm supposed to make the case without the fence. Just the print hits and the statement. Play it like that.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: So he's doin this for what, have some newspaper guy in his pocket?
- Det. Lester Freamon: I guess so.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: [chuckles] Is this Burrell?
- Det. Lester Freamon: No, no, Mueller. Deputy Ops before Burrell.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: So what did you do?
- Det. Lester Freamon: What do you think I did? I charged him with receivin', then had his ass testify.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: Well, you coulda made the case without him. Just on the prints and the statement.
- Det. Lester Freamon: Probably. Yep.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: Why didn't you?
- Det. Lester Freamon: Why?
- [he gives McNulty a knowing look]
- Det. Lester Freamon: Why are you fuckin' up yourself chasin' Avon Barksdale?
- [McNulty smiles and takes a drink]
- Det. Lester Freamon: A week after the trial ends, the major comes to me and asks me where I wanna go. I told him, I don't care, I like to be outside, you know? Gimme a goddamn foot post, I'll still make my money, you know? Send my ass up to Edmondson Avenue, I don't give a shit.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: You went to a foot post?
- Det. Lester Freamon: No, major come back and asked me where I *don't* wanna go. And he asked like he wanna make sure I land okay. So I tell him, I don't want no fuckin' paper-shufflin'. No office shit. Send my black ass outside and let me police somewhere.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: [laughs] Pawn shop unit.
- Det. Lester Freamon: Mm-hmm. They got me good, huh?
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: So why'd they let you out of the box? Why now?
- Det. Lester Freamon: I guess they just forgot about me.
- Det. James 'Jimmy' McNulty: [laughs] Shit, Lester. You're back from the dead. You rolled away the stone. Bunk Moreland says you're natural police. One of the few.
- Det. Lester Freamon: [sighs] Yeah, I've had my moments. Detective... *when* they ask you where *you* wanna go - and they are gonna ask you where you wanna go - do yourself a favor. Keep your mouth shut.