Adrian Monk: Hello. Your liquor license is expired. It's probably all right. My name is Adrian Monk. I'm meeting someone.
Derek Bronson: Mr. Monk? Thank you for coming. Sit down. I know your work. I'm a big fan.
Adrian Monk: There's, uh, more light over there.
Derek Bronson: I prefer the dark. You obviously got my note.
Adrian Monk: And the money. $500 to meet you alone, ten minutes. It's very generous.
Derek Bronson: There's more where that came from. I have a job to offer you, Mr. Monk. It will take you one night. Not even one night. Two hours. I'm willing to pay you $20,000 for your trouble. My name is Derek Bronson.
Adrian Monk: Bronson? Bronson Technologies. I thought he...
Derek Bronson: You... You thought I was dead. Most days, I wish I was. I was ballooning solo up the coast. I'd done it a thousand times. That day, seven years ago, the trade wind shifted. Everybody assumed I was lost at sea. Actually, I landed on a small island west of Guam.
Adrian Monk: And you stayed there for seven years?
Derek Bronson: I could've come back years ago. But I got sick. Would you like to hear about the job?
Adrian Monk: Yes, of course. But first, I have a couple of questions. Sick is a funny word. Could mean anything from a mild headache to...
Derek Bronson: When I say sick, I mean sick. Mr. Monk, I am a leper.