Note - *Name:* indicates parts from Nick's dreams/hallucinations, or whatever they are...

Stonetree: That gives you an idea of the problem.
Schanke: Raging hormones?

Stonetree: What do you think I should do, Schanke?
Schanke: Uh, perhaps bring in the night shift...pronto?

*Natalie:* I know this is a big step for you, but don't you think you might be overdoing it a tad?
*Nick:* You've got no idea what it's like to have lived almost 800 years and never tasted a french fry. Pass me the ketchup, will ya!
*Natalie:* Okay.
*Nick:* Thanks. Brace yourself. I'm about to join the ranks of humanity.

*Janette:* Drink up, Nicolas.

*LaCroix:* You know it's what you really want.

Schanke: Knight, Knight! Hey Nick. Rise and shine. Stonetree's sweating blood. Duty calls. I know you're much too cool to come out and play in the daytime.

Schanke (answering machine): You're needed down at the station now, toro...
Nick: Go away.
Schanke: ...pronto. So stop doing whatever the hell it is you do in that high-tech dungeon of doom of yours, and get your butt down here. Hasta la bye-bye.

Nick: What time is it? What day is it? What century is it?

Nick: Here's to my health.

Radio DJ: Stay tuned. Next is BTO on...
Schanke: YES! Finally some rock and roll!
DJ:...your easy listening station.
Stonetree:Rock and roll.

Schanke: Question. Would you ever consider Bachman Turner Overdrive easy listening?
Nick: Can we get out of here, please?
Schanke: Nice outfit. Don't you think you're over-reacting a little to this ozone thing?
Nick: Not really. Drive.

Schanke: Have you been to a barbecue or something?
Nick: Would you just drive?
Schanke: Seriously... BTO, easy listening. I think not.

Schanke: How do you like that, huh? The ultimate back stage pass. You know, I would have given my left butt-cheek to have one of these in '66 when the Beatles kicked off their tour in Chicago at the Universal Amphitheater. Now that--that was a concert. I dreamed of being up there with them. John, Paul, George and Schanke.

Schanke: Is that the life, or what? Work two hours and earn ten-zillion bucks. And the whole world worships you. We, on the other hand, work our butts off 40 hours a week for zippo dollars, and we're treated like astro-turf. She's got it made all right.... What do you think it's like up there?
Nick: Lonely.

Schanke: I will bet you my entire album library of Schanke's greatest hits that I'm right!
Nick: She's not a killer.
Stonetree: You're collection of 8-tracks is safe.

Stonetree: It's an arraignment for murder, not a damned photo-opportunity!

Schanke: You know what I think? I think it's tuck-in time at the pillow ranch. 'Night, gentlemen.

Schanke: On second thought, maybe I'll take the long way round.
Nick: Rebecca's fans still camped out?
Schanke: Yeah. Word's out big time. By sunup it's gonna be Woodstock out there.
Nick: Woodstock....
Schanke: Yeah, Woodstock. You were there? Yeah right. In macrame diapers and Janis Joplin sang you a lullaby. You're full of it, Knight! (Schanke leaves)
Nick: Actually, I was with the Grateful Dead.

*LaCroix:*Come on, Nicholas. It's time to rock. You can't escape your fans. Your show's been sold out for weeks in twenty-three cities.

Nick: You ought to be careful or you'll tarnish your image.
Rebecca: I couldn't tarnish, bend, fold, spindle, or mutilate my image if my life depended on it.
Nick: Does your life depend on it?

*LaCroix (as Nick's jailer):* Congratulations. You're going to be released. But only if you want to be released, that is. Remember it's a bad, bad world out there...full of pain and suffering, rejection and discrimination, persecution, prostitution, and loss. Well, Nicholas?
*Nick:* I'm sure.
*LaCroix:* Laughing. Oh, I'm so sorry, Nicholas. It was all a joke. There is no release. Laughing as he leaves Nick locked in the cell.

Nick: I'm with the band.
Security: Okay, go ahead.

Nick: Just keep her covered up.
Natalie: Nick, I don't know how long I can sit on this.
Nick: Buy me some time. Go slow on the autopsy. Come on, find something unusual and tell them you need another day to test. We believe in long shots, don't we?

Rebecca: Why would anybody want to be me?

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