# Monk (season 5)

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Monk (2002–2009) is a television comedy drama created by Andy Breckman about Adrian Monk, a former detective, and now consultant, for the San Francisco Police Department who suffers from a number of psychological disorders, including obsessive-compulsive disorder and several phobias.

### Mr. Monk and the Actor

    Dr. Charles: Adrian, I just don't know what to say. I'm speechless, and I'm very very proud of you.
    Adrian: No big deal.
    Dr. Charles: No-no-no. I'm very, very proud of you. And it is a big deal.
    Adrian: It's just one weekend. I'll be gone for two nights.
    Dr. Charles: Two nights alone in a hotel?
    Adrian: I might even leave my room.
    Dr. Charles: Yes.
    Adrian: Would you like to come along? I'll treat.
    Dr. Charles: No. No, I mean it's your vacation.
    Adrian: My treat.
    Dr. Charles: But it's your breakthrough. And I think it's the first time since you lost Trudy that you're actually looking forward to something.
    Adrian: I am. I'm looking forward.
    Dr. Charles: You know, there is a term for this, Adrian. It's called affirmative reflex. And it's a very, very big step. Okay, it's 3:00. I'll see you next--
    Adrian: Okay, I'll see you on Wednesday.
    Dr. Charles: Whoa, wait-wait-wait. You know, I was thinking maybe we should eliminate Wednesday. And you can come on Monday and Friday.
    Adrian: Two days a week?
    Dr. Charles: Yeah, how would you feel about that?
    Adrian: I don't know what to say. That's only twice as much as a normal person. How many times has Harold Crenshaw come?
    Dr. Charles: Adrian, you know I can't talk about another patient.
    Adrian: I'll bet he comes three times a week. Loser.
    Dr. Charles: Adrian, it's not a contest. The important thing is that you're making real tangible progress. And I couldn't be happier. You know, you've been stuck at square one for a long time.
    Adrian: I hate square one.
    Dr. Charles: Well then let me be the first to say, welcome to square two.
    Adrian: How many squares are there?
    Dr. Charles: We'll just take it one step at a time.
    Adrian: What square is Harold on?
    Dr. Charles: Doesn't matter.
    Adrian: I understand. He's still on square one, isn't he? Blink twice if I'm right.
    Adrian: Tangible progress, can you believe it? That's what he said. Tangible progress. Those were his words.
    Harold: Good for you.
    Adrian: He said that I was on square two.
    Harold: That's a good place to be.
    Adrian: What square are you on?
    Harold: Oh, I don't know, Mr. Monk. I never really thought about it.
    Adrian: Well, I'd say... you were on square... four or five.
    Harold: That sounds about right. But you're catching up. Oh, I'm so proud of you. Are you proud of yourself?
    Adrian: Proud of myself? No, no. That's square-five talk.
    [After being threatened by Ruskin, dressed as Monk, the real Monk shows up]
    Jack Leverett: Oh my god. There's another one? What are you guys from some kind of cult?
    Dr. Kroger: And they canceled the movie [about you]?
    Monk: He said he wanted to play a character who wasn’t so dark and depressing. [Pause] He's in England playing Hamlet.
    [Stottlemeyer and Disher are watching the actors playing them in a movie adaptation of "Mr. Monk and the Astronaut"]
    Actor Playing Stottlemeyer: [Talking on prop cellphone] Uh, look, I know he's a bit eccentric, but Adrian Monk is the best damn investigator I've ever had so you tell the mayor if he goes I go. [Pauses] That's right. Lt. Disher! Lt. Disher, you got a minute? [A female Disher enters the room; the real Randy is embarrassed]
    Actress Playing Disher: [Enters] Yes, Captain.
    Actor Playing Stottlemeyer: Uh, what the hell do I say? I got it. The victim, the victim just received a check for fifty thousand dollars. Pretty weird time to kill yourself. What do you think?
    Actress Playing Disher: I'll tell you what I think. I think the department doesn't appreciate you enough.
    [Gets closer to the Stottlemeyer actor]
    Actor Playing Stottlemeyer: Randi, what are you doing?
    Actress Playing Disher: I'm doing what you taught me to do, Captain: following my instincts.
    [They start kissing; the real Stottlemeyer and Disher are mortified]
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: That never happened.
    Lt. Disher: Not even once.
    Dr. Charles: That must have been a traumatic experience for you Adrian. And they cancelled the movie?
    Adrian: He said he wanted to play a character who wasn't so dark and depressing. He's in England doing Hamlet.
    Dr. Charles: How about the little getaway you were planning? The weekend away?
    [Adrian shakes his head]
    Dr. Charles: All right, okay, maybe another time.
    Adrian: I guess I'm back to square one. [He groans] It's good to be home.
    Dr. Charles: Adrian, please don't be hard on yourself. I think we should go back to three days a week for just a little while. That would be Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
    Adrian: And Tuesday.
    Dr. Charles: Tuesday would be four days a week...
    [Adrian give Charles a beleaguered look]
    Dr. Charles: Okay, I could see that just until you're back on your feet...
    Adrian: And Thursday.
    Dr. Charles: Oh no, Thursday is five days a week, Adrian.
    [Adrian buries his head in his hands and moans]
    Dr. Charles: Okay, that way five days a week would be easier to remember...
    Adrian: And Saturday.
    Dr. Charles: Well, Saturday is the weekend and I don't like to see patients on the weekends.
    Adrian: Saturday!
    Dr. Charles: Adrian, I have a family and I like to keep the weekend free...
    Adrian: [Desperately] Saturday!
    Dr. Charles: Okay, we'll try that for a weekend or two. So that would be Monday, Tuesday...
    Adrian: And Sunday.

### Mr. Monk and the Garbage Strike

    Monk: Ugh, Natalie. What am I gonna do? The whole city reeks.
    Natalie: I'm starting to get used to it.
    Monk: You are? Really? Then you're gonna love Hell.
    Monk: Listen. Listen. It's a truck. That sounds like a garbage truck, right?
    Natalie: Mr. Monk, it's not a garbage truck.
    Monk: They've settled the strike. It's all over! T-turn on the news. Uh. False alarm. It's a...bus.
    Union boss: [On TV] All we want-- All we've ever wanted is a fair contract for ourselves and for our families. This union is willing to stay out for as long as it takes. Two weeks! Two months! We will never back down! We will never surrender! It's all his fault.
    Monk: [Mocking] Jimmy Cusack. Hate that guy. Wish he was dead.
    Natalie: Don't say that.
    Monk: I do. I wish he was dead.
    Natalie: What if something happened to him? You'd feel terrible.
    Monk: No, I wouldn't.
    Natalie: Yeah, you would.
    Monk: No. I wouldn't.
    Natalie: Yeah, you would.
    Natalie: Where's your garbage? [Coughs] Did you just mail your garbage to somebody? These are desperate times, Natalie. [Whispers] Desperate times.
    Natalie: What? [TV announces death of Jimmy] Are you happy?
    Monk: No.
    Natalie: Got your wish.
    Monk: Wha--? No. Y-you think I did this?
    Natalie: Yeah. I think you did. With your karma! You said you wanted the guy dead.
    Monk: I was joking. It's a figure of speech.
    Natalie: Well, Mr. Monk, you need to be careful what you wish for. Look. [Points to TV] Because of his death, the union has stopped all negotiations. Nobody's talking. The strike's gonna go on for years. Good job.
    Monk: Yes, sir, it just came to me last night in a vision. One, we evacuate the city, every man, woman, and child.
    Mayor Ray Nicholson: Evacuate?
    Monk: Two, we burn it down. We just burn it. Scorched earth.
    Mayor Ray Nicholson: Uhh....
    Monk: Then, just to be safe, we collect all the ashes and what do we do? We burn the ashes. Three, we bring everybody back and start over. Think of it, we rebuild San Francisco... from scratch. Start fresh, everything clean. Everything brand new. Gonna have that new city smell. Fresh off the lot, we can even straighten out Lombard Street while we’re at it.
    [Monk is driving a lone garbage truck through the city]
    Lt. Disher: He's like a vigilante. A garbage vigilante.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: You could say that. But don't.
    Monk: I got it all figured out. When this truck's full I'll drive it into the bay. Then come back, get another truck, and keep driving them into the bay. One bag at a time, one truck at a time. One bag at a time, one truck at a time.
    Monk: Do you have any more of these Odor-Eaters?
    Drugstore Manager: How many do you need?
    Monk: Oh, about...a trillion.
    [Monk is trying to have a session with Dr. Kroger, but garbage bags are being thrown into the courtyard]
    Monk: It keeps piling up. I always hated garbage. Even when I was a kid. We live 2.2 miles from the city dump. I used to lie in bed. Smelling it. Had nightmares all the time. About trash. Piling up outside, higher and higher...until we couldn't leave the house. [Chokes] We were buried alive. [A bag is tossed] And now it's coming true. [Dr. Kroger does not reply] Dr. Kroger? [After a pause]
    Dr. Charles Kroger: Adrian, have you been sending me your trash?
    Monk: [Laughs in disbelief] No.
    Dr. Charles Kroger: See...I've been getting boxes of trash, sent to me in the mail.
    Monk: Really?
    Dr. Charles Kroger: Yeah, really. Now, Adrian, don't try to deny it. It's all sorted by color and food groups. It’s your handwriting on the label. It’s upsetting my wife, it’s upsetting my children, and I want it to stop!

### Mr. Monk and the Big Game

    [Monk is trying to get Natalie to stand on his hands to look on top of a locker]
    Monk: [Locks his hands] Up you go.
    Natalie: What?
    Monk: Take a look, check it out. Up you go.
    Natalie: Up you go.
    Monk: Up you go!
    Natalie: Up you go!
    Monk: Up you go!
    Natalie: I'm just the assistant!
    Monk: I believe the word "assist" is a very large part of the word "assistant." Right, "assist", from the Latin meaning, "UP YOU GO!"
    [With difficulty, Monk hoists Natalie, who just barely peek over the top of the lockers]
    Natalie: Well, higher! [Straining, Monk does so] Oh my God!
    Monk: What is it?
    Natalie: Oh my God!
    Monk: Natalie, what is it?
    Natalie: There are footprints!
    Monk: Footprints... down you go.
    Natalie: Okay, down I go?
    Monk: Down you go.
    Natalie: Down we go.
    Principal Franklin: Oh yes, Mr. Monk. We met last year at the, uhh, career day. How have you been?
    Monk: The same.
    Principal Franklin: Well, I'm sorry to hear that.
    Natalie: So you've never won anything in your whole life?
    Monk: Once, at a birthday party, I won a game of musical chairs.
    Natalie: Well, that's something.
    Monk: But then I was disqualified. A mother said I went counter-clockwise, or something.
    Natalie: Well, at least you got invited to the party!
    Monk: It was my party, okay, it was my mother!
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: I can talk to her next week. How about Saturday? I'll take you guys out for pancakes.
    Natalie: Yeah, it's okay. That's not going to give her much time. It's all right. [Starts to head for the door, but then stops, and turns around] Oh, you know what? I forgot to mention! My cousin works for a PR firm for [[w:
San Francisco 49ers|the '49ers]].
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: No kidding!
    Natalie: Yeah! Joe Montana's gonna be in town on Thursday! He's shooting some commercial. You wanna meet him?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Joe Montana? Sure!
    Natalie: Okay, you're not too busy?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, no. No, I'm sure we can make that work.
    Natalie: Oh, great, because I lied! But it's nice to know you're available on Thursday! Julie will be here after school. Thanks! [Grins, and leaves the office].
    [Monk and Natalie are in the girl's bathroom]
    Natalie: You okay?
    Monk: Girl's bathroom.
    Natalie: What are you afraid of? [Pokes Monk] Cooties?
    Monk: Don't laugh. The jury's still out on cooties. If we could only get more federal funding...

### Mr. Monk Can't See a Thing

    [Monk walks into the garage carrying a container of smoke alarms]
    Monk: Hey, hey, Karl with a "K."
    Karl: Hey, Mr. Monk.
    Captain Stockton: Oh, hell, he's back.
    Monk: Hey, Chucky. You missed a spot. [Comes up to the table] Captain, can you believe it's been a year already?
    Captain Stockton: You know, Mr. Monk, I told you you can test those smoke alarms at home by yourself.
    Monk: Yes, I know but, I'd rather you guys did it. You're the experts, right?
    [The station's call alarm goes off. Everyone stops what they are doing and immediately runs for the ladder equipment. Someone hands Stockton a slip of paper]
    Captain Stockton: House fire, three alarm. Mr. Monk, I'm afraid you're going to have to wait.
    Monk: Captain, I was here first.
    Captain Stockton: Sir, there is a house burning down five blocks away! Don't you think that should take a priority right now?
    Monk: Uhhhh...
    Captain Stockton: Don't you?
    Monk: I don't know.
    First Fireman: Let's go! [The engine starts to drive away]
    Monk: OK, but I haven't got all day!
    [Monk is having his eyes checked after being attacked by Eddie Murdoch at the firehouse]
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: So, how’s it look, Doc?
    Dr. Jackman: Uh, okay. The liquid that hit him was a mixture of detergent and muriatic acid. Both of his corneas have been scarred, and there is nerve damage.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Which means what, exactly?
    Dr. Jackman: It’s hard to say. Sometimes the tissue grows back by itself, and sometimes it doesn’t.
    Natalie: [Stroking Monk's shoulder] Shh... it’s okay, Mr. Monk. [To Dr. Jackman] [[[w:Fear of the dark|He’s afraid of the dark]].
    Dr. Jackman: Well, he might have to get used to it, at least for a while. Excuse me. [She leaves and Randy steps forward]
    Lt. Disher: Monk?
    Monk: Huh?
    Lt. Disher: It’s Randy! I’m speaking to you. I’m standing right in front of you. [Randy waves his hand in front of Monk’s face and squats] Now I’m squatting. I’m about eye-level. I just want you to know that we’re gonna find the man who did this to you. I’m gonna work on this case 24/7. I don’t care how long it takes. Except for May 11th. Uh, my niece is getting confirmed, and there’s a reception the night before, so I’m probably gonna need... [Turns to Stottlemeyer] I’m probably gonna need that whole weekend off, actually…
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: [Sternly] Randy...
    Lt. Disher: So from the 11th to the 13th...
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Randy! I didn’t think this was possible, but you’re making this situation worse.
    [At Monk's apartment, Natalie is helping Monk put photos of Trudy back onto the fireplace mantle]
    Monk: Is it straight?
    Natalie: It’s perfect.
    Monk: I’ll never see her face again.
    Natalie: Mr. Monk, don’t say that!
    Monk: Am I crying?
    Natalie: No.
    Monk: Huh, it feels like I’m crying. It feels like I’m crying all the time. [Walks over to the couch and sits down] Natalie, my life is over. Forget about me. You have to move on. Get another job.
    Natalie: I am not going anywhere! Look at me! [Stops and regains control] Your life is not over! You could still do anything! There’ve been lots of blind people who have done great and amazing things.
    Monk: Like who?
    Natalie: Like Ray Charles! And, um, you know…
    Monk: Yeah?
    Natalie: You know…uh, I mean, come on. Uh, um, uh... Mr. Magoo.
    Monk: Who’s that?
    Natalie: Mr. Magoo? Oh, gosh, he was a great man. Um, an inventor.
    Monk: Really?
    Natalie: An entrepreneur, if you will. He did lots of amazing, amazing things.
    Monk: And he was blind?
    Natalie: I don’t wanna talk about Mr. Magoo anymore.
    Monk: Me neither.
    [Natalie leads Monk to the station and they meet Randy in the hallway]
    Natalie: What's so important, Randy?
    Lt. Disher: I think we've got him. We just picked up a guy in Rockaway; he was wearing the fireman's coat.
    Natalie: Who is he?
    Lt. Disher: A guy named Colbert, Jake Colbert. He's a drifter; he lives out by the beach. You think you can ID him?
    Monk: Oh, I don't know. Maybe you haven't heard: I am blind.
    Natalie: But you'll do the best you can, right? You can't give up just because you've been dealt a bad hand.
    Monk: Oh have I been dealt a bad hand? I wouldn't know, because I'm blind! [They meet Stottlemeyer outside the squad room door]
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Monk, hey. I like the cane. You look kinda dapper.
    Natalie: So you found the guy?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: We found a guy. He's the right height, does not have an alibi, and he was wearing the missing coat.
    Natalie: Did his shoes squeak?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Don't know. He was barefoot when we picked him up. But it doesn't matter because we don't need shoes when I've got an eyewitness.
    Monk: [Following Stottlemeyer into the squad room] So to speak.
    Dr. Jackman: I think I have some good news. The optic nerves appear to be healing, and your pupils are starting to dilate. I’m cautiously optimistic. [Monk moans a little bit] Is that how he takes good news?
    Natalie: Yeah, it is.
    Dr. Jackman: Look, if you could just stick around for a bit, I’d like to show these to my colleagues. Be right back.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Thank you, Doctor. We’ll be here.
    Natalie: Isn’t that great? She sounded so hopeful!
    Monk: Hope. I hate hope’s guts!
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Hey, what happened to all your confidence?
    Monk: I don’t know, Leland. Maybe I dropped it when I was screaming for help ten inches off the ground! I’m so pathetic! I’m half the man I was, which was three-quarters of a man, so now I’m…
    Lt. Disher: Five-sixteenths of a man.
    Monk: Thank you, Randy.
    Lt. Disher: Oh, no, wait. Three-eighths of a man.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Hey, would you quit whining? The bad guy [Murdoch]’s on a slab downstairs, we get to go home. In my book, that’s a good day.

### Mr. Monk, Private Eye

    [Natalie's desk phone rings]
    Natalie: Adrian Monk Investigations. What is the nature of your problem?
    Monk: I'm being kept in a room against my will.
    Natalie: You were kidnapped. Uh, do you know who did it?
    Monk: Yes. It's my personal assistant. Her name is Natalie... Teeger.
    [The camera reveals that Monk is talking on his desk phone]
    Natalie: You can't swim?
    Monk: To be honest, I don't know. I mean, I know how... all right, I took a correspondence course.
    Natalie: You learned to swim by mail?
    Monk: They sent me a little diploma! And, I've got this.
    [He gives her a little card from his wallet]
    Natalie: "Swimming Fundamentals: Don't panic; Breathe normally; Flutter kicks..."
    Monk: Can I have that back, please?
    Natalie: Why would you even take the course? You never go in the water.
    Monk: Hello, tsunamis?
    [Before jumping off a boat to escape Jay Bennett, Monk quickly consults his card]
    Monk: "Don't panic"—forget that—"Breathe normally, flutter kicks..." [jumps].
    [After Natalie hands out Monk's business card]
    Monk: You owe me 85 cents.
    Natalie: Fine. Take it out of my paycheck.
    Monk: Don't think I won't.
    Natalie: How'd you get so cheap? Really?!?
    Monk: I work for a living! All right? At least I used to. Now I just get bull kelp splashed on me!
    Monk: [About his new office] Natalie, you can't afford this.
    Natalie: Actually, you're paying for it.
    Monk: I can't afford this!
    Natalie: Oh yes you can. Remember last month when you got that bonus after solving the Kensington case?
    Monk: No.
    Natalie: That's because I used it for a down payment.
    Monk: Grown ups have a word for that. It's called "embezzlement".

### Mr. Monk and the Class Reunion

    Monk: Do you still have my invitation?
    Natalie: Oh, yes I do. [She pulls Monk's registration form out of her purse] "Adrian 'Captain Cool' Monk"? Who's Captain Cool?
    Monk: [Strikes a Macho pose] Me. That was my nickname.
    Natalie: You were Captain Cool? Why?
    Monk: Why do you think?
    Natalie: I don't know.
    Monk: Why do you think?
    Natalie: I don't know!
    Monk: Look, I didn’t write the invitation! Did I-
    Natalie: Okay! Okay! Well, uh, good luck, and I will see you here at seven o'clock. Okay? [She teasingly strikes a mirror image of Monk's pose] Captain. [She walks away]
    [Randy is at his desk. He notices something and rushes into Stottlemeyer's office]
    Lt. Disher: Captain? The lapel pin. I just remembered where I saw it.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: When?
    Lt. Disher: Just now at my desk.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: No I mean... tell me about the pin, Randy.
    Lt. Disher: Monk. He's been wearing the same pin all week for his 25th college reunion.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: I think you're right. Did the victim go to Berkeley?
    Lt. Disher: No, she worked there. She was a nurse at the university clinic for, like, twenty years.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: But she didn't graduate, so this isn't her pin.
    Lt. Disher: The killer.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: [With realization] It fell off the killer... which means the killer is at the reunion... with Monk?
    [Monk and Natalie are in the college cafeteria]
    Natalie: Well this looks delicious! So this is where you ate? I mean was this your "hangout"?
    Monk: I don't know. Natalie, I-I-I think I've seen enough of this. Let's just go.
    Natalie: No! I'm not gonna let you go! You've been looking so forward to this!
    Monk: I don't know what I was thinking. These people weren't my friends, okay? They don't even remember me! The truth is, I was invisible. It was Trudy they loved. I was always just "the guy with Trudy," just like you're "the girl with me". [Natalie stops]
    Natalie: Mr. Monk, why is your name on this spit-shield? [Cuts to a close-up of Monk's name on a small placard]
    Monk: Well, when I was here, there was nothing protecting the food.
    Natalie: So you donated all of these? That was so generous of you!
    Monk: Well actually, it was more of a lawsuit. Took up a lot of my spare time... [Dianne Brooks sees them and walks over]
    Dianne Brooks: Adrian! There you are. We've been looking for you! [Dianne notices Natalie and looks at her suspiciously]
    Natalie: Hi, I'm Natalie Teeger. [Natalie and Dianne shake hands]
    Dianne Brooks: Hi. Dianne Brooks.
    Natalie: I'm his assistant.
    Dianne Brooks: Oh! Oh, so you two aren’t... [She points between Monk and Natalie; Natalie smiles, amused]
    Natalie: No. [Laughs lightly]
    Monk: Oh, no. No, no, no, no. No. No. Not... not... no.
    Dianne Brooks: Ok. Where are you sitting?
    Monk: Uh, we're not...
    Dianne Brooks: Kyle and I are right over here. We saved you a seat. Fair warning - we brought a lot of pictures. [They start walking in that general direction]
    Natalie: See? You have a friend!
    Monk: Not really. She was Trudy's roommate, freshman year.
    Natalie: But she saved us a seat!
    Monk: Out of pity. These are what we call "pity seats".
    Natalie: Mr. Monk, come on! Let's have some fun! [Snaps her fingers] You said you were gonna show me your dorm room!
    Monk: Well, it's right here. This is it, old #303. Uh-oh! Tie on the doorknob! A tie is wrapped around the doorknob] My roommate and I did the same thing, it's a code.
    Natalie: Yeah, I think I might know about that.
    Monk: Yeah, it means, "Don't come in! I'm reorganizing my closet!" [Natalie stares at him incredulously]
    Natalie: Your closet?
    Monk: Yeah. My roommate in freshman year, Greg, he reorganized his closet, 4-5 times a week.
    Natalie: Uh-huh, and did his girlfriend ever come over to help?
    Monk: Oh yeah, all the time, they were real neat freaks. I used to tease them about it. "Neat freaks!" [Spots something in the student lounge] Oh my God. Oh... my... God! [Natalie moves aside] I... can’t... believe it! [They walk in] He’s still here. Hello, old friend. [Monk walks over to the refrigerator] Remember me? Oh, I knew we’d meet again. It is our destiny. [Puts his hand on the freezer door] Natalie, put your hand right there.
    [Natalie puts her right hand on the freezer door]
    Monk: You feel that? [Long beat]
    Natalie: No.
    Monk: He’s afraid. Step back. Step back. [Pulls his hand into his sleeve] I’m going in. [Monk opens the freezer door, and they find the freezer totally frosted over. Natalie turns away, disgusted]
    Lt. Disher: Why did he kill the nurse?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: He had no choice! Katherine Rutherford read that note twenty-five years ago. It would have been made public, she would have recognized it!
    Natalie: My God, Mr. Monk, he could be doing it right now! [Stottlemeyer and Disher reach the registration station]
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: The registration sheets are all gone!
    Monk: Oh!
    Lt. Disher: Monk, do you have a cell phone number?
    Monk: No.
    Lt. Disher: Do you know where they stayed?
    Monk: [Sighs, exasperated] Some hotel!
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: There are over 200 hotels in this city, Monk! It’ll take us over five hours to check them all!
    Monk: Hold on. Hold on! [Rolls his shoulders forward a couple of times]
    Lt. Disher: What’s he doing?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: I don’t know. What are you doing?
    Monk: The hotel where they’re staying. It was on their registration form.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah? So?
    Monk: When Dianne signed in... [flashback to Dianne filling her registration sheet out on Monk’s back] We were standing in line. She wrote... she wrote on my back. [Natalie smiles, realizing what Monk is doing]
    Lt. Disher: Can he do that?
    Natalie: It's how he met Trudy! It’s his superpower!
    Monk: Oh, there’s her name. Home address.
    Natalie Teeger: Okay, Mr. Monk, it was near the bottom.
    Monk: She has terrible penmanship. Why did it have to be cursive? [Makes what almost appear to be spasms as he tries to remember what Dianne wrote] She ordered the prime rib, medium rare.
    Natalie: Keep going. It’s just below that.
    Monk: Yeah, there’s an L, uh, L-E... Lexus! Is there a Lexus Hotel?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: No that’s the car they drove, Monk!
    Natalie: Keep going. [Monk finally reaches the section with the hotel name]
    Monk: There’s a “P”, “P”, No! “P”, “P”, “B”! “B”! “B”!
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: “B”?
    Monk: It’s a “B.” It’s a “B.” It’s a “B.” “L.”
    Natalie and Capt. Stottlemeyer: Bla…
    Monk: “A.”
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: The Bla…The Blaza…
    Lt. Disher: The Blaza! Plaza!
    Monk: B-L-A…The Bla…The Blab…
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: The Blakemore Hotel!
    Lt. Disher: It’s right up the street! [They take off]

### Mr. Monk Gets a New Shrink

    [After taking a bullet for Dr. Kroger]
    Harold Krenshaw: Monk... Monk... Come here, closer... Beat that!
    Monk: I'm Adrian Monk, here to see Dr. Sorenson.
    Receptionist: Fill this out.
    Monk: It says to list your phobias.
    Receptionist: That's right.
    Monk: There are only five spaces.
    Receptionist: You can use the back.
    Monk: I might need another sheet. [She hands him another sheet] I might need another sheet. [She hands him another sheet] I might need another sheet. [She hands him another sheet, and repeats this a few more times]
    Dr. Charles Kroger: Adrian, I cannot continue to practice anymore after today. The police think that one of my patients killed Teresa Mueller. I should have seen it coming. I didn't; I missed it. This is all my fault.
    Monk: This isn't happening. This can't be happening.
    Dr. Kroger: Adrian, I promise you I'll get you another doctor. I'll call you next week.
    Monk: Okay! So it's not true! You're not retiring! I mean, you can't because... He can't retire...
    Dr. Kroger: [To Natalie] This is step one in the grieving process: denial. [Monk comes back to Dr. Kroger]
    Monk: Damn you, Charles! Damn you to hell! I hate you. I hate you! You are dead to me.
    Natalie: That's not denial.
    Dr. Kroger: No, that's step two, that's anger.
    Monk: Okay. Okay, we're all adults here. We can work this out. I can hire you full time, all right? Put you on payroll.
    Dr. Kroger: This is step three, the bargaining. It usually doesn't go around this quickly.
    Monk: Why me? Why is it always me? Everybody's always leaving me.
    Natalie: Depression?
    Dr. Kroger: Yeah, step four.
    Monk: This can't go on. I mean, it's just too much. Okay, you're right. It's not the end of the world. I'll just have to find another doctor. I owe you so much. Thanks to you, I think I can get past this. Thanks, doc.
    Dr. Kroger: And finally, step five, acceptance.
    Natalie: Thank God that's over. [Monk walks over to another police officer]
    Monk: He can't retire! The man can't quit because he's not a quitter.
    Natalie: Wait, what's going on?
    Dr. Kroger: I don't know. It's like he's starting all over again, like he's in a loop. [Monk peeps through the window blinds]
    Monk: I HATE YOU FOR THIS, KROGER! YOU ARE DEAD TO ME! You understand me? DEAD!
    Dr. Kroger: I really should be heading home...

### Mr. Monk Goes to a Rock Concert

    Natalie: Captain!
    Monk: Captain, for the record, this was all her idea. I mean, I wouldn't be here if I couldn't drive or had anything else to do.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: OK, I give up. What is it? [Natalie produces a check]
    Natalie: It's a $34 dry cleaning bill to clean the shirt and jacket that Mr. Monk ruined when he ran through the poultry farm to recover the ransom money in the Jimmy Creskow kidnapping case. What are you gonna do about it?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Try to ignore it.
    Natalie: No-no-no-no! We've already submitted this twice! It is a work-related expense, and we are entitled to compensation!
    Monk: Not my idea.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Look, I couldn't agree with you more. I believe you guys are entitled to every dime you can get, but, there's nothing I can do about it. Lieutenant Disher is the Disbursement Coordinator.
    Natalie: Okay, where is he?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Uh, he's not here. He called in sick.
    Monk: Is he okay?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: You know, he didn't sound too good. He's got a bad fever and he's got a cough.
    Monk: With that phlegmy flu thing? [Natalie waves her hands frantically to get Stottlemeyer's attention]
    Natalie: Okay-okay! When Randy is not here, who is in charge of payout?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: That would be the Assistant Disbursement Coordinator.
    Natalie: And who is that?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer:' We don't have one. Is there anything else?
    Monk: Nah, that about covers it.
    [Stottlemeyer has received a phone call from his ex-wife]
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: [Laughs] My kid, my oldest, has skipped school, and Karen thinks he’s gone to a rock show.
    Monk: Oh, I used to do that! Play hooky. Go to rock shows. [Natalie looks at him skeptically]
    Natalie: You did?
    Monk: All the time.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Anyhow, I've gotta get up there and see if I can find him.
    Monk: Okay.
    Natalie: Oh, you need some help?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah, you know, I wouldn't mind. [Starts towards the door]
    Monk: I'll come with you.
    Natalie: Are you sure?
    Monk: Of course I'm sure!
    Natalie: I'm sorry! I just can't picture you at one of these!
    Monk: What are you talking about? I used to go all the time. Get a bus into the city and see the Stones.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: [Walking through the parking lot] Look at this mess! Oh for God's sakes, it's gonna take me all day to find him here! I'm gonna miss a whole day's work! An entire day! Gonna wring his little neck!
    Natalie: Captain, he's just a kid! Don't you just want to stay out here for a minute and calm down before you go inside?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: No!
    Monk: Whoa, whoa, hold on! What kind of rock show is this?
    Natalie: It's the biggest festival of the year!
    Monk: Festival?
    Natalie: [Laughs] Wait- wait- wait, Mr. Monk! You thought they were real rocks? Like a geology exhibit, like a museum?
    Monk: Maybe. Perfectly understandable mistake.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, not really.
    Monk: Okay, well, no harm done. So, I guess I’ll need a ride home.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Monk, I’m not going home without my kid.
    Monk: All right, look, I, I, I can’t... [A passerby bumps into Monk]
    Passerby: Move it!
    Monk: I can’t do it! I, I can’t go in there!
    Natalie: Mr. Monk, come on! The Captain needs you!
    Monk: But there's-- 10,000 of them, and not even one of me!
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Okay, look, I understand, Monk. Why don’t you just go wait by the car?
    Monk: Yeah, I’ll go wait by the car.
    Natalie: Okay, it’s gonna be a while!
    Monk: Yeah, I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me. Take your time. But, but hurry back. But take your time. Hurry back. [Trails off; leaving Natalie and Stottlemeyer confused]
    [Noticing Randy in the crowd, Stottlemeyer calls him from a few feet away]
    Lt. Disher: [Feigning illness] Hello?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Hey, Randy. How ya doing, buddy? I-I was worried about you.
    Lt. Disher: Captain?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yep?
    Lt. Disher: [Fake coughs] What time is it? [Long pause]
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Oh, I'm sorry! Did I wake you up? [Pause] Hey, what's that music I hear?
    Lt. Disher: Oh, [Fake coughs] it's my stereo. It's broken! I can't turn it down!
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: It's LOUD!
    Lt. Disher: Listen, Captain, thanks for calling!
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Sure.
    Lt. Disher: I'm gonna get up now; make myself some soup.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Soup? Yeah soup is good; fluids are good. Drink plenty of fluids.
    Lt. Disher: Fluids. Okay, thanks for calling, Captain.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Take care. [Randy hangs up, turns to a woman next to him and says]
    Lt. Disher: My boss! [Stottlemeyer puts his hand on Randy's shoulder, and Randy spins around] Whoa. Captain.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Lieutenant.
    Lt. Disher: Did you, uh, did you call in sick, too?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: No, Randy. I'm looking for Jared.
    Lt. Disher: Well, here's what happened with me: I was on my way to a doctor, and uh... I got nothing. Let's go find Jared. [Takes one last sip of his beer before putting it down and walking away with Stottlemeyer]
    [Jared has caught the incriminating ball on top of the scaffolding for one of the speakers]
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Good job, son. Give me the ball.
    [Kedder climbs the adjoining ladder]
    Kris Kedder: No, don’t. Don’t you do it! He’s a cop. What’s your name?
    Jared Stottlemeyer: Jared.
    Kris Kedder: Jared.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Jared, this is very important! Give me the ball!
    Kris Kedder: Hey, man, you do everything the cops tell you? You know, I don’t. I like your shirt.
    Jared Stottlemeyer: Thanks, man.
    Kris Kedder: You play?
    Jared Stottlemeyer: Yeah!
    Kris Kedder: Me and you, we should jam sometime.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Jared! Listen to me! If he deflates that ball, we don’t have a case!
    Kris Kedder: Dude, he’s trying to set me up because of what I am, what I represent.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: That’s nonsense, Jared! [Becoming desperate] You might not like me, but you know me!
    Kris Kedder: Hey. You don’t trust cops, do ya?
    [Long pause]
    Jared Stottlemeyer: I trust this one. [Throws it to Leland]
    Kris Kedder: Don’t, don’t, don’t do it! [Randy handcuffs him]
    Lt. Disher: Let's go.
    Kris Kedder: Punk!

### Mr. Monk Meets His Dad

    Holding Cell Inmate: What are you doing?
    Jack Monk: I'm speed-reading.
    Holding Cell Inmate: What's your rush?
    Jack Monk: I'm old.
    Holding Cell Cop: Jack Monk, your son is here.
    [Jack stands up and sees Stottlemeyer]
    Jack Monk: I'm looking at you, but I see your mother.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Uh, no sir, I'm Captain Stottlemeyer. This is Adrian.
    Jack Monk: [Covering] That man looks just like your mother!
    Jack Monk: What I want? Two things. A: forgive me. Forgive your father. I was negligent and I was selfish, and I'm very sorry. And B is: get me the hell outta Dodge. But if you can only do one, I'll take B. I gotta be in Phoenix in the morning.
    Monk: He never loved me! He doesn't love anyone except maybe Jack, Jr.!
    Natalie: Jack, Jr.?
    Monk: His other son! He gave him a bike! I never got a bike!
    Natalie: [Aside] There's another brother!
    Stottlemeyer & Disher: Whoa...
    [Jack and Adrian's truck is careening down the hill, out of control]
    Jack Monk: I gotta say something: I'm sorry! I'm sorry I wasn't there for you and Ambrose! I'm so sorry! Oh, I'm a bad father! That's all that matters!
    Monk: You're not a bad father! Look at Jack, Jr.!
    Jack Monk: He's a putz!
    Monk: What?
    Jack Monk: Actually, he's not even a putz! He dreams one day of becoming a putz! He lives downstairs in my basement, he smokes pot all day long, he steals money from my wallet!
    Monk: He's not a doctor?
    Jack Monk: No, I made it all up! I lied! I wanted to have a son I could be proud of! I didn't know I had one in San Francisco.

### Mr. Monk and the Leper

    [Julie is taking some french fries out of the oven]
    Monk: No! Your mom said no junk food. I'm supposed to be babysitting you.
    Julie Teeger: Mom said I was supposed to be watching you!
    Monk: You are mistaken.
    Julie Teeger: Are you getting paid?
    Monk: Of course I am.
    Julie Teeger: How much?
    Monk: I think that is between me and your mother. Are you?
    Julie Teeger: $8.50 an hour.
    Monk: An hour? [Pause] I guess you're the boss.
    [Monk is STILL scrubbing his hands the morning after he first meets Derek Bronson]
    Monk: Any more soap?
    Natalie: That’s it.
    Monk: No, I mean, is there any more soap in San Francisco?
    Natalie: Mr. Monk, you’ve been scrubbing your hand for nine hours! I’m surprised you have any skin left!
    Monk: It’s not coming out. I can still feel it. I think it’s spreading. [Pulls out a can from under the sink]
    Natalie: What are you doing? Is that kerosene?! [Monk douses his hand and tosses a match to Natalie]
    Monk: Light me!
    Natalie: What?
    Monk: For the love of God, light me!
    Natalie: Okay, Mr. Monk, I’m not gonna light your hand on fire!
    Monk: Fine. [Monk goes over to the stove, puts his left hand over his eyes, and screams as he tries to put his hand into a boiling pot. Natalie stops him]
    Natalie: You know what? You know what? Get away! You are overreacting, all right! All you did was shake a man’s hand!
    Monk: You’re right. You know what? I’m glad it happened. The worst possible thing that could ever happen to me has happened. I shook hands with a leper, and I survived.
    Natalie Teeger: Exactly!
    Monk: The worst moment of my life is behind me now. [Wipes his hand] I’m free. Wait. [Rotates a pot handle in his cabinet] Okay, now, I’m free.
    Natalie: Actually, Mr. Monk, it’s not completely over. Don’t be mad, but I talked to Mr. Bronson.
    Monk: You did what? What?!
    Natalie: He called here this morning.
    Monk: The leper! He called me? On what phone? On this phone?! [Points to the kitchen phone]
    Natalie: Yes. [Monk pulls a roll of paper towel, wraps the phone in it, and puts it in the trash] Mr. Monk, you can’t catch anything over the phone!
    Monk: Oh, oh, oh, hang on. Now all of a sudden, you’re an expert on lepers?!
    Natalie: Okay, you know? Mr. Monk, he’s a nice man, all right? He’s in pain! He was crying his eyes out and…okay, listen to me. He upped his offer: he said he would pay you $25,000. All you have to do is meet him again!
    Monk: Natalie, listen. Let me explain something to you: No!
    Natalie: That’s it? That’s your argument?
    Monk: Okay, let’s go through it. A: whatever he’s asking us to do is probably illegal. "B" through "Z": the man is a leper!
    Natalie: You know what, I don’t know anything about leprosy, and neither do you. So, I called a doctor. He’s a specialist. He said we could come in, and talk with him. Let’s just see what he recommends, okay? I mean, it can’t hurt to listen, right? $25,000!
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: “Wife claims missing billionaire husband still alive. Probate hearing is set for tomorrow. Former homicide detective Adrian Monk is set to testify.” What the hell is Hansen’s Disease?
    Monk: Leprosy. He’s a leper.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Oh my God!
    Lt. Disher: I thought they lived in colonies, you know, like in Ben Hur.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: And, uh, you met this guy face to face?
    Natalie: Yep. He’s a client, and he called us. He needed our help. Mr. Monk put aside all his fear and prejudice, and offered to do what he could, and I am very, very proud of him.
    Monk: I shook his hand. I can still feel it!
    Natalie: He’s not at all contagious. We talked to a specialist. Randy, I think you might know him. Dr. Polanski?
    Lt. Disher: No.
    Natalie Teeger: Aaron Polanski?
    Lt. Randy Disher: No, can’t say that I do.
    Natalie: Really? Because we thought we saw your picture hanging up in his office.
    Lt. Disher: Right. It was a case. I was undercover, posing as a kid, a teenager with bad acne. Captain, you remember that case?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: You’re on your own, Randy.
    Monk: It’s still tingling.
    Natalie: Well, I’ll tell him you said hi. We’re going out tomorrow night.
    Monk realizes he was conned about a supposed leper]
    Monk: Julie, I was duped.
    Julie Teeger: A leper-con.
    Monk: What?
    Julie Teeger: [Giggles] Was he magically delicious?
    [Natalie bursts in, having come back from her date with Dr. Polanski]
    Natalie: Okay, thanks, I'll talk to you later! Bye! [She immediately runs to the sink and turns on the faucet, drinking directly from the flexible tap] Hotter! I need it hotter!
    Julie Teeger: Mom, are you okay?
    Natalie: I'm fine! [Gargles]
    Julie Teeger: How was your date?
    Natalie: It was great! Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart, I need you to do me something: I need you to go upstairs and fill the bathtub with Listerine! Go-go-go-go-go! [Soon, Monk and Natalie are speaking simultaneously]
    Monk: Natalie, listen to this!
    Natalie: I’ve gotta tell you something!
    Monk: We’ve been duped! Are you ready for this?
    Natalie: I’ve been duped! Okay, you’re not gonna believe this!
    Monk: He’s not a leper!
    Natalie: ...He’s a leper! Oh God! [Struggles to get a bottle of soap open]
    [During the probate hearing]
    Nephew's Lawyer: Mr. Monk, is this the man you saw? [Shows Monk a photo of a younger Derek Bronson]
    Monk: I believe it is.
    Nephew's Lawyer: According to your testimony, you only saw him in a dimly lit bar and a parking garage. Hardly ideal conditions.
    Monk: It’s true.
    Judge Lawrence Barr: Well, Mr. Bronson’s nephews have been waiting a long time for this estate to be probated. I am reluctant to make a decision based on one man’s testimony.
    Mandy's Lawyer: Your Honor, Adrian Monk is not just anyone. His memory and powers of observation are legendary.
    Judge Lawrence Barr: Well, there’s a lot at stake here. You say he has a great memory. Mr. Monk? Would you mind standing up and turning around? [Monk stands up and turns around] Could you describe my shirt?
    Monk: Which one?
    Judge Lawrence Barr: "Which one?"
    Monk: The shirt you're wearing, or the shirt that your stenographer is wearing? That's your shirt, too, isn't it? You cut yourself shaving - there's a little drop of blood on her collar.
    Judge Lawrence Barr: What are you implying?
    Monk: You were having a sex affair with her on that couch. The cushions are backwards and one of her earrings fell off. So, it’s right here. Under here. [He walks over to the couch, and picks up the earring in question with his tweezers] She must have torn her blouse. I can see it sticking out of her briefcase.
    Judge Lawrence Barr: I’m ready with my decision. I will accept Mr. Monk’s word that he met with Derek Bronson. Therefore, Mrs. Bronson will retain control of the entire estate.

### Mr. Monk Makes a Friend

    Julie Teeger: [Referring to Monk's new friend, Hal Tucker] I like him.
    Natalie: Me, too. I wonder what he's up to.
    Natalie: Mr. Monk, I'm your friend.
    Monk: Because I PAY YOU!!
    Natalie: Not that much.

### Mr. Monk Is At Your Service

    [Monk is in session with Dr. Kroger; he hands Dr. Kroger a handout]
    Dr. Charles Kroger: “Police Announce Hiring Freeze”.
    Monk: A hiring freeze, for the next four years! By then, I’ll be too old to be reinstated! So, that’s it: I’ll never be a cop again!
    Dr. Charles Kroger: All right, Adrian. I am truly sorry. I know how much reinstatement means to you.
    Monk: Only everything! It was my reason for living. That’s all. What do I do now?
    Dr. Charles Kroger: I think you go back to what you’ve been doing. Consulting.
    Monk: For how long? I haven’t had a new client in weeks! The department hasn’t renewed my contract!
    Dr. Charles Kroger: You know, Adrian, I think this is an opportunity for you to make a decision. A very important decision. Now, you can let this news completely depress you.
    Monk: Okay. Thank you.
    Dr. Charles Kroger: Or, you can look at this like an opportunity. A chance for you to reassess your life. Start over. Do something completely different.
    Monk: Different?
    Dr. Charles Kroger: Yeah...'different' can be good.
    Monk: [Unconvinced] Different. Good... [whispers to self] Different? Good? [Pause]
    Dr. Charles Kroger: Adrian, it's not too late, you know Winston Churchill did not become prime minister until he was sixty!
    Monk: What are you talking about? I'll never become prime minister!
    Dr. Charles Kroger: No, no. I'm not saying--
    Monk: I don't even live in England; even if I did I, I'd be such a long shot-
    Dr. Charles Kroger: Adrian! It’s just an example.
    Monk: What do I do now?
    [Monk and Natalie check out the crash scene]
    Monk: Well this section of the guardrail is new. It must have happened right here. The car was heading west, went off the road here.
    Natalie: So you were right, she couldn’t have hit that rock.
    Monk: [Sighs] It’s hard to tell without seeing the police report. Maybe…maybe the car flipped over! Maybe it spun around.
    Natalie: No, I think he did it! I think he killed his parents!
    Monk: You really don’t like this guy, do you? What did he ever do to you?
    Natalie: You really want to know?
    Monk: No. [Becomes distracted by croaking] What is that noise?
    Natalie: Oh, frogs. They live in that pond over there. It’s mating season. They go crazy every year. [A frog hops out of the bushes]
    Monk: Frog... (10x)
    Natalie: Are you afraid of frogs?
    Monk: I don't know; I've never been this close to one. [A frog hops on his shoe] Yes, the answer is yes. Put frogs on the list. Where's the list?
    [Monk is looking around the Buchanans' garage]
    Mechanic: [Spots Monk] Can I help you? What the hell are you doing?
    Monk: Sorry. I...
    Mechanic: Are you here for the job interview?
    Monk: [Improvising] Yes. The interview. Exactly.
    Mechanic: Follow me. He’s been waiting for you.
    [Cuts to Monk in the living room. Paul Buchanan comes in with a shotgun]
    Paul Buchanan: Sorry for the delay. [Shows shotgun] This is in case the interview doesn't go well. Just joking; I was just doing a little hunting. [Sets his shotgun down and pours himself a drink] All right, so you're here from the agency. Where's your resume?
    Monk: I... lost it.
    Paul Buchanan: You lost your resume? Well that doesn't bode well, does it? What's your name?
    Monk: Adrian....
    Paul Buchanan: Adrian? [Monk notices a copy of the book Moby-Dick by Herman Melville lying on a table]
    Monk: Melville. Adrian Melville. [Paul notices the cleanliness of the room]
    Paul Buchanan: What's with this place? I had friends over last night; the place was a mess.
    Monk: While I was waiting, I sort of tidied up.
    Paul Buchanan: I'm impressed. Very well done, Adrian Melville.
    Monk: Thank you.
    Paul Buchanan: Did you do this? [Points to a finished jigsaw puzzle of a city skyline with a rainbow over it on another table]
    Monk: Yes, sorry, I couldn't help myself.
    Paul Buchanan: What, in 20 minutes? I've been working on this puzzle for a month!
    Monk: Sorry, I’ll mess it up again. I think I remember exactly how... [reaches forward, trying to restore the puzzle to the wya he found it]
    Paul Buchanan: No...! (5x) I’ve got a couple of stepsisters who think I never finish anything. Well, come on. Sit down. [They sit down in two adjacent chairs] Tell me, Melville. Who have you worked for? Anybody I know?
    Monk: Mmm... I don’t think so. Leland Stottlemeyer of the San Francisco.... Stottlemeyers. Randy Disher. Dr. Charles Kroger....
    Paul Buchanan: No, I don’t know them.
    Monk: And Natalie Teeger.
    Paul Buchanan: Natalie? Really? She grew up right down the street. I went to school with her when she was still Natalie Davenport. She had a big crush on me. Wouldn’t leave me alone.
    Monk: Is that right?
    Paul Buchanan: How does she look? Does she still have that tattoo? [Monk stands up, shocked]
    Monk: She has a tattoo?
    Paul Buchanan: Well, I guess you wouldn’t have seen it. Not where she put it. [Gets up] Look, I’m having a big luncheon on Sunday. A bunch of the old fossils from the family foundation. Do you think Natalie would show up? It’d make the afternoon a lot better.
    Monk: I don’t think... [Paul gives him a "yes or no?" look] Maybe.
    Paul Buchanan: Well, Adrian Melville, I go with my gut. And my gut likes what it sees. If Natalie Teeger recommends you, that’s good enough for me. Congratulations. You’re my new butler.
    Monk: I’m your butler?
    Paul Buchanan: Yeah. Come on. I’ll show you around. Your room’s upstairs. Grab that drink. [Monk grabs the tray off the table]
    [Paul Buchanan finishes looking at the completed luncheon table that Monk has carefully organized and straightened out]
    Paul Buchanan: Well I don't have to remind you about how important these stupid luncheons are! The old bats are gunning for me. They want me to screw up, they expect me to screw up! And I intend- to dissapoint them. Mr. Melville.
    Monk: [Standing in front of a covered canvas] Thank you. Mr. Pepperidge? [Mr. Pepperidge pulls the tarp off the canvas, revealing a color coded map of the house] I've divided the house into four zones.
    Susie the Maid: Mr. Stilson normally has us start in the kitchen.
    Monk: [Retracts his pointer] Mr. Stilson is no longer with us. So from now on we're going to be cleaning the house my way: the Monk way.
    Susie the Maid: Who's Monk?
    Monk: [Long pause] You see... I grew up in a monastery. And the monks, were very demanding. We were cleaning constantly, 18 hours a day. Mostly dusting. It was very dusty. Crypts, catacombs, it was holy dust. But still... you know... dust. And that is the Monk way.
    Paul Buchanan: Well you heard the man. We'll be doing it the Monk way.
    [Paul leads Natalie away from the other hunters]
    Paul Buchanan: All right. Give me the page!
    Natalie: What?
    Paul Buchanan: My father’s journal! You stole a page, give it to me! [Natalie hands Paul the signout sheet page she took from the garage. He tosses her a hunting vest] Put it on!
    Natalie: Why?
    Paul Buchanan: There’s gonna be an accident. I told you. It happens all the time.
    [Monk runs into Paul's hunting buddies and grabs one of their shotguns]
    Natalie: Paul, you just…you can’t do this!
    Paul Buchanan: Oh, I can’t? Look up there. See that well? Two weeks ago, I shot my butler, and dropped his body in it! [Pumps the shotgun] You should’ve gone with me to the prom, Natty! [Monk shows up, weapon in hand]
    Monk: Buchanan! Lower the weapon!
    Paul Buchanan: Melville?
    Monk: Just lower it! [Fires at the trees, killing a bird]
    Paul Buchanan: Well, you’re fired. That goes without saying. [Natalie uses the opportunity to grab the sheet and shotgun from Paul]
    Natalie: Mr. Monk, look, his father kept a journal. He came back before he died.
    Monk: That makes sense. It all makes sense now.

### Mr. Monk Is On the Air

    [Monk and Natalie enter the studio]
    Natalie: Hi.
    J.J.: Oh, hello.
    Max Hudson: Hello, there. Yeah. Who is this?
    Monk: This is Natalie. She’s my assistant.
    Max Hudson: Ooh, Natalie.
    Little Willie: I think I need a little assistance.
    Max Hudson: Me like...
    Little Willie: I think I need some assistance!
    Max Hudson: Give a little twirl, Natalie.
    Natalie: No, thank you.
    Max Hudson: [As a small sound effect plays on J.J.'s computer] "No, thank you." Okay, she’s feisty! She’s brassy, she’s sassy, she’s got gusto!
    Little Willie: Sassy, brassy, but she won’t show her...
    Max Hudson: I like it! Doing the neck crank. You can’t see it, ladies and gentlemen. Yeah, I talked to this guy last night. He wants to talk to me about what happened to Jeanette.
    Natalie: Why don’t we talk about that after the show?
    Max Hudson: You don’t get it, sugarbumps: here is the show. My life is the show. Detective, why don’t you have a seat, please? Somebody give him some headphones, please.
    [J.J. hands Monk a set of headphones]
    J.J.: Here you go, buddy.
    Monk: I’m okay. It’s okay.
    Natalie: Don’t do this!
    Little Willie: Come on.
    Natalie: Please be careful.
    J.J.: This is exciting!
    Monk: [Snaps his fingers in Natalie's direction] Wipe. Wipe. Wipe. Wipe. Wipe.
    [J.J. records and plays Monk's voice back. Monk wipes down his headset]
    Max Hudson: Okay, folks, you've got to see this. Uh, first of all, his shirt is buttoned up to his eyeballs, and he’s swabbing out his headphones with a baby wipe.
    Monk: This is not a baby wipe. This is…this is an adult wipe.
    Max Hudson: Oh, I’m corrected.
    J.J.: You've gotta know the difference.
    Little Willie: One of those, oh…
    Max Hudson: Sorry about that one.
    J.J.: Hey, Adrian, let me ask you something. When you go to a crime scene, do you take a police car or a short yellow bus? [Max claps happily with approval]
    Natalie: Mr. Monk, you don’t have to answer that.
    Monk: No, no, I’ll be happy to. I’ll be happy to answer that. Natalie drives me.
    Max Hudson: Oh, I bet she does. [J.J. plays a sexy woman’s sound. Natalie glares at them, mortified] She’s driving me, baby.
    Little Willie: Who’s driving Natalie?
    J.J.: Natalie.
    Max Hudson: I want to change your tires.
    J.J.: Natalie.
    Little Willie: I’ll volunteer for that.
    [Monk puts a wipe over his microphone, causing static feedback in the jockeys' headsets]
    Max, J.J. and Little Willie: Ow! Ow!
    Max Hudson: You’re hurting me!
    J.J. and Little Willie: Ow! Oooh!
    Max Hudson: This guy’s great. He’s possessed.
    J.J.: [Raises fist] Yo, Adrian!
    Monk: [Pause] Yo.
    [The jockeys burst out laughing, until Max signals for them to stop]
    J.J.: What is going on there?
    Max Hudson: Okay, we just lost a third of our audience. All righty, then! So, just for the record, you’re here because of my sister-in-law?
    Little Willie: Loony Linda!
    Max Hudson: That’s right, Loony Linda, who thinks I murdered my wife. Isn’t that charming?
    J.J.: Adrian, I thought you’d like to know that the last guy who wore those headphones had head lice.
    [Monk immediately throws off his headset and runs out of the studio]
    Monk: Wipe! Wipe! Wipe! Wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe!
    Radio men: Wipe! Wipe! Wipe! Wipe! Wipe! Wipe! Wipe!
    [Monk grabs Natalie's purse as he leaves]
    Natalie: You should be ashamed of yourselves!
    Max Hudson: I agree, I should be. But I’m not! [She walks out of the booth]
    J.J.: Oh! And there, we’ve got the view. [Natalie turns around to cast a disgusted look at them before closing the door]
    Max Hudson: There she goes. She gave us a twirl.
    Monk: I think he's the guy!
    Natalie: I do too, at least I hope he is.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Max Hudson, the jerk on the radio?
    Monk: According to her sister, his wife had recently started taking sleeping pills, 30 milligrams.
    Natalie: Which is the maximum dosage.
    Monk: And it was Max's suggestion.
    Natalie: He called the doctor personally to get the prescription!
    Monk: Here's what happened: Max is out of town, it's a perfect alibi. He knows his wife will be taking those pills, so she's out cold. [In the background, Randy is trying to contain his laughter]
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: [Glares at Randy] Is something funny?
    Lt. Disher: S-sorry.
    Monk: He knows his wife won't be waking up, so he has one of his guys-
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Randy? Do you wanna share it with the rest of the class?
    Lt. Randall Disher: Sorry. I heard you on the show. You really got zung!
    Natalie: [Offended] Oh my God, you listen to that creep?!
    Lt. Disher: I think he’s gray... ting. It’s grating.... [starts to stammer] Degrading. Degrading to women. I keep listening, hoping he’ll grow up, but he never does.
    [Max Hudson comes home to find the police outside his house and Randy on the front driveway]
    Max Hudson: What, uh... what’s going on?
    Lt. Randall Disher: Well I could tell you, but Adrian Monk wants to tell you himself. He’s upstairs. After you. [Cuts to Max entering the bedroom, where Monk, Natalie, Linda Riggs, and Stottlemeyer are waiting for him]
    Max Hudson: Linda? Uh-huh. I don’t know the legal definition of harassment, but this is pretty close. [Stottlemeyer hands Max a paper]
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Mr. Hudson, that’s a search warrant. You’ve been duly served.
    Max Hudson: Ah, sure, okay. Knock yourself out. You’re just embarrass yourselves, again.
    Monk: It’s over, Max. We know how you did it. We know what you were doing every day at 2:00 PM.
    Natalie: You were next door!
    Max Hudson: That’s right, I was. I was house sitting. I was watering their plants.
    Max Hudson: Nah, you were training their dog.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: We replayed the tape of the show you made the morning your wife died. That was the day you introduced your new catchphrase, “Jangle my tenders.”
    Lt. Disher: “Jiggle me timbers," sir.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Jiggle me timbers.
    Lt. Disher: You never said it before that day or since. I’m a big fan. Well, I was. Unless you’re not guilty, in which case, we’re all really sorry about all this. Although, I’m pretty sure you’re guilty. But if you’re not, I’m sorry.
    Max Hudson: This is insane.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Well, it’s easy enough to prove. [Picks up a walkie-talkie and speaks into it] Let’s do it.
    [Cuts to a police officer talking to the next door neighbor while carrying a portable radio. He presses play]
    Max Hudson: [On tape] ...Friday and, by the way, I saw it last night. Jiggle me timbers! [The dog takes off and darts through the dividing hedge]
    Little Willie: [On tape] Hey Max, where did you get that? “Jiggle me timbers”…

### Mr. Monk Visits a Farm

    [Monk is visibly uncomfortable as he watches Randy unloading hay bales off the truck for storage in the shed]
    Lt. Disher: You okay?
    Monk: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m fine. It’s just, you know, everything. The earth and the outdoors. All the animals. Animal byproducts.
    Lt. Disher: Well, you know, all the food you eat comes from farms just like this.
    Monk: Not anymore. Not as of the last 23 minutes.
    Lt. Disher: Well, I love it. I used to come up here every summer helping Uncle Harvey run the place. I still can’t believe it’s all mine. It’s all mine. It’s my farm. I own a farm. I’m the Farmer in the Dell. [Oates arrives]
    Farmhand Oates: I got that tractor running.
    Lt. Disher: Was it broken?
    Farmhand Oates: Since Tuesday.
    Lt. Disher: But it’s working now? Good. Good. Good man, Oates.
    Farmhand Oates: You feed the jerseys?
    Lt. Disher: Yes. Yes, I did.
    Farmhand Oates: Today?
    Lt. Disher: No, not today exactly.
    Farmhand Oates: They gotta be fed every day! Animals eat every day! I’ll do it. Jesus. [Starts to leave, but Randy stops him]
    [While Monk is examining the fenced off area of Belmont's farm, Belmont comes along carrying a shotgun]
    Jimmy Belmont:' Señor Monk.
    Monk: Si. [Belmont asks him something in Spanish] Si.
    Jimmy Belmont: Si?
    Monk: Si.
    Jimmy Belmont: I just asked if you got a squirrel in your pants. [Monk struggles to make a Spanish response] You don’t speak any Spanish, do you?
    Monk: Some. High school.
    Jimmy Belmont: You want to tell me what you’re doing back here?
    Monk: No.
    Jimmy Belmont: You know, there are no secrets in a town like this. I know all about you, Former Detective Adrian Monk. I heard you were dancing with Sheriff Butterfield last night. Badly. Heard you were asking about me. Well, here I am. Now, you want to ask me something, you go right ahead.
    Monk: Okay, what’s back there? Let me guess. Fields of reefer.
    Jimmy Belmont: Fields of reefer? What kind of cop were you?
    Monk: You know what I mean: Ditchweed. Boo. The old Ali Baba.
    Jimmy Belmont: What makes you think that I’d actually-
    Monk: Magic Dragon. Bambalachi. Yellow Submarine. Black Bart. Doctor Giggles. Kentucky Blue. You know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about Railroad Weed! That’s right. The Devil’s Parsley. Skunk, Splim, Splam, Mooster. Side Salad.
    Jimmy Belmont: Side Salad?
    Monk: You’ve been supplementing your income. What do you have? About four or five acres of marijuana back there? Harvey Disher found it, and he was threatening to turn you in. [Belmont cocks his shotgun] You killed him.
    Jimmy Belmont: Did I? How? See, Harvey Disher’s truck went off the road at 10:30pm. That’s a fact. Hit the electric fence. Everybody saw the lights go out. I was in the dance hall. Half a mile away. In front of fifty witnesses. Now, you think you got enough for a search warrant? [Monk doesn't respond] Yeah, I don’t, either. Not in this county. It’s time you were headed home, Former Detective Adrian Monk. Front gate’s that way. Go on ahead. Go on. Go. [Monk leaves]
    [Oates is outside on the porch, and looks up to see Monk handcuffing himself to the grain drill]
    Farmhand Oates: Mr. Monk?
    Monk: Oates? Oates! Thank, God! Where’s Randy?
    Farmhand Oates: He’s asleep. I can’t help but noticing that you’re handcuffing yourself to that grain drill.
    Monk: I inhaled some reefer.
    Farmhand Oates: I got you.
    Monk: It’s gonna kick in any minute.
    Farmhand Oates: Okay.
    Monk: Here’s the thing. I can’t tolerate any drugs or medications. It’s my metabolism. I don’t know what…I don’t know what’s gonna happen to me. I might go berserk! I might hurt somebody. Oates, dude... here. Here. [Monk throws the handcuff keys to Oates] Listen, whatever happens, don’t unlock me. NO MATTER WHAT I SAY! Even if I’m begging you! Oh, my God. Here it comes! Oh, God! I think it’s starting!
    Farmhand Oates: We’re talking about marijuana, right?
    Monk: UH-OH! [Stands up, and starts shaking, and jumping around] RIVERDANCE! Oh! Oh! I can feel it! I’m getting hungry!
    Farmhand Oates: Did you have dinner? Got some pecan pie in the fridge.
    Monk: IT'S THE MUNCHIES! Oates, whatever you do, don’t put anything near my mouth!
    Farmhand Oates: Can do! But I gotta say, you know, I’ve had some experience in this area, and I don’t think you’re stoned at all.
    Monk: No! Oh, no! I SEE LIGHTS FLICKERING!
    Farmhand Oates: Yeah. They’re fireflies. [The sprinklers start spraying water, and Monk gets drenched]
    Monk: What was that? What was that?!
    Farmhand Oates: It’s 8:00! Irrigation sprinklers. [Monk suddenly calms down]
    Monk: Do they come on every night all over the property?
    Farmhand Oates: Every night.
    Monk: Oates. I know how he did it. I know how Belmont killed Randy’s uncle. Get me out of this.
    Farmhand Oates: Okie doke. One minute you're hand-cuffing yourself to a piece of farm machinery, sobbing like a schoolgirl, the next minute you're putting all the pieces together like Sherlock Holmes. Which is the real Adrian Monk?
    Monk: Yeah, I like to think that a man is made up of many different–
    Farmhand Oates: I think it's the schoolgirl.
    Monk: Yeah, you're probably right.
    [Monk sneaks into Randy's bedroom and disguises his voice as the motivational CD Randy is listening to, after turning it off]
    Monk: [In a low voice] Randy. You were right. Belmont killed your uncle.
    Lt. Disher: Killed my uncle.
    Monk: Here’s what happened.
    [Cuts to the sun rising on the horizon. Randy walks to the kitchen, where Monk and Oates are waiting for him]
    Lt. Disher: Morning. Any coffee left?
    Farmhand Oates: Got a full pot. How’d you sleep?
    Lt. Disher: Well, fine, I guess. [Randy goes to the fridge, and smells the cream] Ew, it’s sour. What kind of farm is this? We don’t even have any fresh cream! [He walks out of the kitchen. He slaps his head. Monk glances at him to see if Randy has figured out everything that was fed to him in his sleep]
    Monk: Randy, what is it?
    Lt. Disher: Mosquito. So, fill me in, what happened on Belmont’s farm?
    Monk: Not much to tell. It was a dead end. How, how about you? Any new thoughts on the case?
    Lt. Disher: No. [Suddenly, Randy stops with a surprised look on his face]
    Monk: What? What is it?
    Lt. Disher: No. It’s nothing. Wait! Wait. Wait a minute. Oh, my God. Oh my God! [Walks over and takes a figurine pig off one of the shelves] Oh, my God. Monk, call the sheriff. I think I solved the case.
    [Randy gives the Monk-fed summation on how Belmont killed Harvey Disher]
    Lt. Disher: It was a perfect alibi, and that is how you did it, Mr. Belmont.
    Deputy Lenny Hatcher: Um, I’m not following.
    Monk: Randy, I don’t think you’re quite done. You mentioned that part about the... [imitates sprinklers running] Ch-... (10x) Sprinklers.
    Lt. Disher: Yes! I’m not done yet. The sprinklers! [In a black-and-white flashback, the sprinklers go on, and the salt licks that have propped up the rear wheels on Harvey's truck melt, and the truck rolls forward] At 8:00, the sprinklers kicked on and melted the blocks of salt. [The truck runs straight into the electric fence, causing several sparks from a short-circuit] Touchdown. [The lights in the dance hall flickers] When the lights flickered, you were half a mile in front of fifty witnesses. [Flashback ends] That’s the prettiest piece of homicide I’ve ever encountered. Where were you?
    Monk: I... I guess I just... I don’t know.
    Lt. Disher: I understand. You’re in a slump. Don’t worry. I’ve been there. Just give it time. You’ll be back.
    Deputy Lenny Hatcher: It would explain a lot.
    Sheriff Margie Butterfield: It would explain everything. Including the deer: They were licking the salt.
    Jimmy Belmont: Now that is a nice story. See that’s all it is. [Advances on Randy to the point of getting in his face] Where’s your proof? Physical proof. You don’t have any, do you?
    Monk: I think he’s right. [Randy suddenly has an epiphany]
    Lt. Disher: Sheriff, do you have an evidence bag? Monk, your pen. [He takes both and walks over to the driver's side door of the truck] This truck was never touched or moved, right? [He uses the pen to remove the keys from the ignition, and then breathes air onto it, revealing a fingerprint] Yes. That’s a fingerprint. See that? [To Belmont] If this is your fingerprint, it means that you were the last person to operate that vehicle. Is that proof enough?

### Mr. Monk and the Really, Really Dead Guy

    [Julie is seen teaching Monk about computers]
    Julie: Okay, Mr. Monk, this is called a mouse.
    Monk: I know that, I haven't been living in a cave.
    Julie: And this is a mouse pad...
    Monk: Wow! It is so rubbery!
    [Stottlemeyer mentions to Agent Thorpe that his equipment is severely outdated]
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: You're wrong about Adrian Monk.
    Agent Thorpe: Am I?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yep. I know he's a little strange, and he can be difficult. But I can tell you of at least twelve different cases where all of the evidence...
    Agent Thorpe: Captain Stottlemeyer, you're looking at a half a billion dollars worth of equipment. Are you trying to tell me your funny little friend is smarter than all of this?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: [Smiles without flinching] Yes, I am.
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: This is a complete waste of time, you know that.
    Agent Thorpe: Did you say something?
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Yeah. I said, "Monk is right, sir." I have never read one of these "psychological profiles" that meant squat, particularly if it was created by one of these gizmos.
    Agent Thorpe: These "gizmos," as you call them, are going to catch our killer. Mark my words.
    [When the "serial killer" makes a break for it, Stottlemeyer grabs FBI Agent Keao's custom-made PDA and throws it, catching the killer in the back and knocking him to the ground]
    Capt. Stottlemeyer: Hey! You were right, one of your gizmos caught the killer.
    [At the end, writing a letter to one of Julie's friends]
    Monk: Dear Kimberly, I am sorry that I inadvertently sent the S.W.A.T. team to Kayla's slumber party and made you cry. I am sorry about the nightmares, it will never happen again. Adrian Monk.
    Julie: Very good; this next one is for Allison.
    Monk: [Begins writing] Dear Allison...

### Mr. Monk Goes to the Hospital

    [A man is being pushed in on a stretcher, with bandages on his head]
    Monk: HEY! I WAS HERE FIRST!
    Receptionist: He has a head wound.
    Monk: I have a head wound!
    Receptionist: That is not a head wound, it's a nosebleed.
    Monk: I happen to believe this very well might be a head wound.