Jack Whitman: Who's hungry? I have homemade lasagna. A little fuel to keep us going. Mr. Monk, are you hungry? An army marches on its stomach.
Adrian Monk: Oh, no. No, thank you.
Jack Whitman: Herr General, eat. Keep your strength up. You've got a big debate tomorrow.
Lieutenant Disher: Excuse me. I think I'd better try this. A little too much oregano, but it's not poison.
Jack Whitman: That's what every cook likes to hear. Ahem, listen, Natalie, do you want me to get this copier out of here? I could take it to the junkyard for you. I got a buddy with a truck.
Natalie: Thank you, Jack, but I got the repair guy comin' back tomorrow to check it out. Besides, it makes a hell of a buffet, right?