Thursday, January 6, 2011

If You Gotta Go...

...you might as well go out in style.

Frank: A good cop - needlessly cut down by some cowardly hoodlums.
Ed: That's no way for a man to die.
Frank: No... you're right, Ed. A parachute not opening... that's a way to die. Getting caught in the gears of a combine... having your nuts bit off by a Laplander, that's the way I wanna go!
Wilma Nordberg: [cries] Oh... Frank. This is terrible!
Ed: Don't you worry, Wilma. Your husband is going to be alright. Don't you worry about anything. Just think positive. Never let a doubt enter your mind.
Frank: He's right, Wilma. But I wouldn't wait until the last minute to fill out those organ donor cards.
[Wilma cries again]
Ed: What I'm trying to say is that, Wilma, as soon as Nordberg is better, he's welcome back at Police Squad.
Frank: ...Unless he's a drooling vegetable. But I think that's only common sense.
[Wilma cries again]

R.I.P.: Land of the Free

We're fucked.

Right now, it's just Miami/Dade County, but I'm sure this gay clone invention's services can be enlisted for a modest rental fee. Don't fret, some of your data will eventually be funneled through here and that's not good either.