Gene Hunt: You think you know everything, don't you?
Sam Tyler: I know the stench of rotten apples.
Gene Hunt: Yeah? And I know your slag is lying through her teeth and do you wanna know why?
Sam Tyler: Yeah, why?
Gene Hunt: Steven Warren is a bum bandit. Do you understand? A poof! A fairy! A queer! A queen! Fudge packer! Uphill Gardener! Fruit picking sodomite!
Sam Tyler: He's gay?
Gene Hunt: As a bloody Christmas Tree! Mind you, he is a little touchy on the subject, being a twisted Catholic with an elderly mother and all, so I wouldn't go mentioning it to him... You challenged his authority so he stitched you up like a kipper. Pretty girl appealed to your vanity as the only decent sheriff in Dodge City. Slipped you a Mickey, tied you up and bounced on your ding-a-ling.
Sam Tyler: Why?
Gene Hunt: I suspect the answer will lie in the post. Photos, you idiot.

Chris Skelton: What's a vol-au-vent?
Ray Carling: It's puff pastry shell filled with a savoury meat mixture.
Chris Skelton: So its a pie then.

Annie Cartwright: Are you okay?
Sam Tyler: [sigh] Yeah, I'm just tired.
Annie Cartwright: Me too. I've haven't slept for 24 hours. [She puts her hand on Sam's shoulder]
[Flashback to yesterday, Annie is sorting through paperwork, when she looks at an advert in the newspaper for a Roxy Music concert - 22nd May at 8pm. She looks up to Sam Tyler's jacket hanging.]
Annie Cartwright: Stupid.
[Cut to present day]
Sam Tyler: It's not stupid.
Annie Cartwright: Pardon me?
Sam Tyler: Forget it.

Andrea Kemble: He your boss? What would I get for smacking him one?
Sam Tyler: A round of applause from half our station.

Annie Cartwright: Boss, there's a viscous yellow liquid in his ear....
Gene Hunt: No, that's the drip from my fried egg butty, love. Well done Miss Marple, that's why we need women detectives...

Chris Skelton: Boss? Bloody hell, you look like something out of the Addams Family.
Sam Tyler: Up all night.
Chris Skelton: Oh aye. What was her name?
Sam Tyler: Migraine.
Chris Skelton: German bird?

Gene Hunt: Why have you got an ant's nest up your arse over a bit of skirt!?
Sam Tyler: Because I loved her!
Gene Hunt: You great... soft... sissy... girlie... nancy... French... bender... Man United supporting POOF!!
Layla Dylan: Leave him alone!
Gene Hunt: Did I ask you? Did I ask you anything other than WHERE THE BLOODY HELL IS RAVI!

Annie Cartwright: Boss, he's got a pulse. He's alive! [Gene pours tea over the victim who moans in pain]
Gene Hunt: He is alive, isn't he?
Sam Tyler: You see, that's why you need women detectives!
Gene Hunt: You said he was dead!
Ray Carling: Well he weren't moving!
Gene Hunt: Chris doesn't move; it don't mean he's dead! Go on, Dr Kildare, get an ambulance!

Chris Skelton: Someone needs to take a look at you boss, you're as white as a ginger bird's arse!

Chris: Dickie's famous for getting caught in Alicante.
Ray: Flagrante, Chris, in flagrante

Annie Cartwright: We were hoping you could be a voice of reason...
Sam Tyler: [Feverishly intense] I came out of a musical box.
Annie Cartwright:... a stabilizing influence...

Chris Skelton: Woman in her twenties, dead.
Gene Hunt: Well I didn't think she was sunbathing, did I?!

Chris Skelton: I'd hate to end up in prison.
Sam Tyler: Not very likely, is it Chris?
Chris: What if I was wrongly accused of killing my wife like David Janssen in The Fugitive?
Sam: You mean Harrison Ford.
Chris: No I don't.

Chris Skelton: Bingo! I got one. Martin Ellis, lorry driver. Waiting for a fabrics pick-up at 2:30 this morning. Spotted a thickset man running of the loom hall.
Sam Tyler: Good, can I see it?
[Chris shows Sam a black and white picture with a head looking like a butternut squash with ears]
Sam Tyler: Chris, have you ever seen anybody that looks like that?
Chris Skelton: It's the best we could do.
Sam Tyler: It's a doddle, then. We're looking for someone with hamster's cheeks, a nose like Audrey Hepburn and a two-foot forehead.

Chris Skelton: I wonder what killed him?.
Gene Hunt: That would be the bloody enormous hole in his chest where the bullet went in!