John Steele: I'm interrupting this interview for the purpose of making further inquiries.
Det. Sr. Const. Wayne Prior: It's about a fucking stolen fucking car, you fucking fuckwit!
John Steele: You want your name in the newspapers? How 'bout, "Police Release Serial Killer," with your name all over it.
Det. Insp. Jackson: I'm aware that you were counseled prior about his behavior in the interview room, and I *will* stand up for you. But don't threaten me.
John Steele: Aw, fuck you. I'm not gonna take this holier-than-thou shit from you. I've gone from Lord Mayor to shit-Carter in about two hours.
[as his boss walks away]
John Steele: Watch out Flemming doesn't come and cut your throat.
Eddie Rodney Fleming: I got him to pull over, and I beat the shit out of him. And he was pathetic. He was complaining, and winching, crying. And why did you beat the shit out of him? What happened? Nothing. I buried him in the sand. Yeah, see, he was one of those people that I saw. It just goes to show you how the mind works, doesn't it?
John Steele: I don't know, Mr. Fleming, how does the mind work?