Dragnet

Pep: You know, uh. Friday, we're allowed to go 55... On some occasions, even faster. Joe: I'm well aware of the federally mandated speed limit, Streebeck. But did it ever occur to you that, by going 8 miles an hour slower, we might save some gasoline and ease the burden on the poor taxpayers out there who pay our salaries? Pep: Friday, a little extra gas isn't going to put the city in hock; besides, this looks bad! Come on, live a little - it's the vertical pedal on the right.

Dragnet (1987 film), CC BY-SA 4.0

Sylvia: [opens her top] Do these look like the breasts of a 43-year-old woman? Joe: No, ma'am. They're quite impressive... bordering on spectacular.

Dragnet (1987 film), CC BY-SA 4.0

Joe: Ma'am, what is the approximate dry weight of the average Madagascan fruit tree bat? Pep: You mean you don't know?

Dragnet (1987 film), CC BY-SA 4.0

Joe: Ah, sure. But just like every other foaming, rabid psycho in this city with a foolproof plan. You've forgotten you're facing single finest fighting force ever assembled. Reverend Whirley: The Israelis? Joe: Try the decent, hard-working men and women of Los Angeles!

Dragnet (1987 film), CC BY-SA 4.0

Pep: You know the kinds of things that can fall into an industrial sausage press? Not excluding rodent hairs and... bug excrement? Joe: I hate you, Streebeck.

Dragnet (1987 film), CC BY-SA 4.0

Pep: Are you crazy? Silvia Wiss wanted you! Joe: Now let me tell you something, Streebeck. There are two things that clearly differentiate the human species from animals. One, we use cutlery. Two, we're capable of controlling our sexual urges. Now, you might be an exception, but don't drag me down in your private Hell. Pep: You've got a lot of repressed feelings. Don't you, Friday? Must be what keeps your hair up.

Dragnet (1987 film), CC BY-SA 4.0