Ray: Just try to put yourself in my place. It's just 'cause you were having so much fun.
Debra: Look, Ray, I told you, let's just drop it. I don't want to discuss this with you anymore.
Ray: How about me, senorita? Will you talk to me?
Debra: No, I don't want to talk to Senor Navel either.
Ray: Oh, that wasn't Senor Navel.
Debra: Well, for the next few days you're gonna be talking to that guy by yourself.

Debra: Damn, he canceled.
Ray: Really? Why did he wait until the last minute like that?
Debra: Some emergency. You know, a rescue thing. Some kid got stuck in a well.
Ray: Stuck in a well.
Debra: Yeah. Who gets stuck in wells anymore? I mean, are there wells in Queens?
Ray: Yeah, see that's the thing. People don't think they're there and then they fall in them.
Debra: He said the kid's gonna be okay but they need a tall guy.
Ray: Yeah. Well, you know, going out with a cop, I mean, that's the life. He's already got a dance partner: danger.
Debra: What kinds of parents are those? You know, they probably had a safety latch on their sock drawer, but that big hole in their backyard, "Oh, gee, we had no idea." I mean, come on, here's an idea for you, childproof your damn well, you stupid morons.

Marie: No, no. Bullets won't stop him. Flame his head.
Debra: Marie!
Marie: Oh, Debra, I need to borrow some vanilla.
Debra: I think I have some in this spice drawer.
Marie: Would you get it for me? They're about to waste these mutants.