Lt. Frank Drebin:
You can't let old hurts die, can you? You walk out of my life, no explanation.
Jane Spencer:
Didn't you get the letters I sent you?
Lt. Frank Drebin:
Every one of them. Didn't open them. Tore them up. Threw them in the fire.
Jane Spencer:
Then you didn't get the check for 75,000 that your uncle left you in his will?
Lt. Frank Drebin:
[awkwardly changing the subject]
Why are you here?
Jane Spencer:
I remembered something about the crime. As I was looking out the window, I saw a red van parked across the street.
Lt. Frank Drebin:
Red van. Well, thank you. That'll be very helpful. So, you said your piece. You can go now, right?
Jane Spencer:
That's not my only reason for being here. Frank, I want us to be friends.
Lt. Frank Drebin:
Sure, friends. Bet if I dusted you for prints right now, there'd be your lover boy Quentin Hapsburg's.
Jane Spencer:
Oh, you...!
Lt. Frank Drebin:
[catching her hand as she moves to slap him]
Well, I see a certain kitten still knows how to scratch.
[he catches her other hand, too; a third hand inexplicable pops up from nowhere and slaps him]
Jane Spencer:
[he lets her go]
I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:33