Autopsy Turvy

Chief Vick: Dr. Strode, does the name Bob White mean anything to you?
Woody: Is he a children’s clown?
Chief Vick: No.
Woody: Adults-only clown?
Chief Vick: No, he’s not a clown of any sort. You performed an autopsy on him two nights ago. He was hit by a bus.
Woody: Oh! Of course, I’m sorry. I often confuse clowns and bus victims.

Woody: I don’t make mistakes.
Lassiter: Says the guy who left his keys in an old lady’s spleen last month.
Woody: Oh please, Detective. Like you’ve never lost your keys?

Gus: Why do I have to be the victim?
Shawn: Because to cast you as the killer wouldn’t be very PC.
Gus: Since when are you PC, Shawn?

Whip Chatterly (French Stewart): Gentlemen. Might I ask why this man in straight-cut denim is lying in the street while you are making bus sounds in the moonlight?
Shawn: If you must know we are pantomime artists from New Guinea. Developing a new routine.

Whip: So we have a drunken man run over by a large vehicle after he was already dead. This reminds me of a case from 1973 that I read about.
Gus: Wow. That sounds cool. {to Shawn} Dude, we already hung out with enough crazy white people this year.

Whip: … Turns out he was killed with cyanide by a dwarf before he ever even got on that tractor. They never caught that little fellow.
Shawn: Are you saying the dwarf is still at large?

Shawn: We know the drill, Whip. We’ve seen The First 48.
Whip: So have I. Every episode.

Whip: Gentlemen, allow me to be your secret weapon. What have you got to lose? I will also cover the cost of snacks.
Shawn: What kind of snacks? Keeping in mind that fruit and dried fruit are not snacks.
Whip: Food for thought.

Woody: I mean let’s face it, a mortician is nothing more than a glorified make-up artist.
Grace Larsen (Glenne Headly): Well a make-up artist who knew to start with the abdominal cavity.
Woody: You looked better with long hair.
Grace: You look like a great big Gerber baby.

Vick: Woody, I’m trying to help you here. Because if this case turns into an unsolved murder—and it’s looking more likely by the minute that it will be—you may be out of a job.

Gus: I can’t believe you called Whip.
Shawn: Well believe it, Gus. Because here he is. His vast knowledge of murder and true crime may just come in handy.
Gus: Until he kills us.

Whip: This is invigorating. I feel tingly. It might just be my shampoo though.

Miss Ivana: Look at my brain.
Shawn: I’d rather not.
Miss Ivana: Do it.
Shawn: Okay.
Miss Ivana: What do you see?
Shawn: You are… putting up a wall. You don’t want me to see your naked innermost thoughts.
Miss Ivana: True. I have trust issues. My therapist tells me this. Your turn.
Shawn: Have at it. I’m an open book.
Miss Ivana: You’re thinking whether Ted Knight and Jim J. Bullock had anything to talk about on the set of Too Close for Comfort.
Shawn: Holy crap, she’s the real deal.

Shawn: This is an outrage! Shame your face! Poor Bob!
Gus: Who is now very very sad. You wanna know why? Mostly because he’s dead!
Miss Ivana: Say what?
Whip: Murdered!
Miss Ivana: Nuh uh!
Shawn: I hope you’re satisfied.
Miss Ivana: My god, you guys. Seriously? This is all my fault. I’m gonna go to hell in a hand basket.
Shawn: Uh… what happened to your accent?
Miss Ivana: People are more comfortable when I use it?
Gus: No. No no no no. We are leaving!
Whip: To find a girl named Penny!

Lassiter: Let’s pay her a visit and make this little piggy squeal.
Juliet: Or we could just ask her some questions.
Lassiter: we could. But it’s never as much fun.

Shawn: I gotta tell you, Lassie, investigating this neighborhood has been pretty bizarre. Underbelly. You know, like After Hours.
Gus: Without the comforting presence of Griffin Dunne.

Shawn: Please tell me that you let him down easy. I’m sensing he was very vulnerable.
Penny: I threatened to call the cops.
Gus: But you’re the bologna girl.
Penny: Yeah, but I’m also a single girl in the city.
Juliet: Who invites an entire audience of strangers into her apartment.

Gus: You thinking what I’m thinking?
Shawn: You want more plum cake?
Gus: I do. But no.

Shawn: Damn you, Whip Chatterly. You ensnared us in a web of turtle-necked lies. And now because of you, we don’t have any snacks.
Woody: You just can’t tell what a person is capable of until you’ve seen them naked. I’m almost positive that’s how the saying goes.

Gus: Creepiest butt dial ever.

Shawn: You’re gonna drink a dead man’s Yoo Hoo?
Gus: You had to put that image in my head, didn’t you? The man may be dead but that Yoo Hoo is very much alive, Shawn.

Woody: You know, you may not realize this, Grace. But you’re insane.

Woody: I can’t thank you enough for believing in me.
Vick: I didn’t. I believed in your colleague who turned out to be a homicidal maniac.
Shawn: None of us is perfect, Chief.