Adrian Monk: Was there anything else in the box? Natalie, when did it arrive? The postmark says Pacific Heights. Do you know anybody in pacific heights?
Natalie: No.
Adrian Monk: They misspelled your name. T-e-a-g-e-r. Who spells your name like that?
Natalie: The devil.
Adrian Monk: Excuse me?
Natalie: The head's been cut off. That's what it means. I'm- I'm gonna be decapitated.
Adrian Monk: No, it doesn't mean anything. I mean, it could've broken off in shipping, right? Oh, no, you're right.
It has been cut with some kind of scalpel.
Natalie: What's gonna happen to Julie?
Adrian Monk: Hey, look at me. Natalie, look at me. All right, this is me talking. Nothing is going to happen. I don't know what's going on here, but it isn't hoodoo, and it isn't voodoo. Someone is just trying to scare you. Voodoo isn't real, okay? It's a fairy tale.
Natalie: You've been asking me all week, how can I believe in this stuff? When Mitch first started his tour, I lived in South Carolina. We had a little apartment off base. There was this woman who lived down the hall, Ms. Ayida. She claimed to be a voodoo priestess. She said that Mitch was in danger. She told me to warn him. I didn't say anything. I didn't warn him. I guess I didn't take it seriously. The next day he was shot down.
Adrian Monk: And you blame yourself?
Natalie: It's not a fairy tale, Mr. Monk.

Lieutenant Disher: Hey, good morning. How'd you sleep?
Natalie: I didn't. Do you know anything about ceiling fans?
Lieutenant Disher: Like what?
Natalie: Do they ever come off? There's one in my bedroom. I swear it was whispering my name all night.
Lieutenant Disher: Try the couch.
Natalie: Yeah, it doesn't matter. I'm never sleeping again. Where's Mr. Monk?
Lieutenant Disher: He's down at the station with the captain. We've got 40 guys on the case, Nat.
Natalie: What are you looking for?
Lieutenant Disher: A knife.
Natalie: I threw them out. The blender, too, and the hedge clippers.

Captain Stottlemeyer: I told the mayor not to go public. Now we got 50 copycats out there. Half the town is getting voodoo dolls in the mail, and all of them want a squad car in their driveway.
Adrian Monk: But these are the four, the only four that count. The same wrapping paper, the same handwriting, it's strange. He doesn't write the address on the box. He uses these labels.
Captain Stottlemeyer: What does that tell us?
Adrian Monk: I don't know. I don't know.
Captain Stottlemeyer: It's the damnedest thing, right?
Adrian Monk: What about the victims? Any connection?
Captain Stottlemeyer: No, no. The FBI's been running their names all day. There's no connection. Oh, and here's some more bad news. Our number-one suspect, our only suspect, is not gonna fly.
Adrian Monk: The guy who was selling the dolls.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Reverend Jorgensen. He's got an alibi for all three victims.
Adrian Monk: And now Natalie.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Now Natalie. How's she doing?
Adrian Monk: She's scared to death. I just talked to Randy. She hasn't gotten off the couch all day. Now he says she's wearing one of those plastic dog funnels around her neck.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Well, that can't be good.

Adrian Monk: We have got to do something. She's going to completely unravel. It would take me forever to replace her. [off Stottlemeyer's look] But of course, that's not the most important thing. This isn't about me.

Adrian Monk: Natalie, this is Hadley Jorgensen.
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: Reverend Jorgensen. Hello, Natalie, Captain Stottlemeyer told me you had a problem. He thought I could help.
Natalie: Help, how?
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: Sister, you have been cursed. And without getting too technical, I'm here to un-curse you. And Mr. Monkis going to help.
Adrian Monk: I am?
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: I've taken the liberty of making a replica of the dolls, working from photos. Does this look about right?

Natalie: No, Mr. Monk. Please let him finish.
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: Yes, it's almost ready.
Natalie: What- What is it?
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: It's my own original recipe. Mr. Monk, if you would be so kind as to reattach its head. Here's some adhesive. Some witchgrass, some coltsfoot. Mandrake root. Smidgen more. All I need now is the doll.
Adrian Monk: One second.
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: It doesn't have to be perfect.
Adrian Monk: Almost done.
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: It's symbolic, really.
Adrian Monk: There we go.
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: The forces of darkness are gathering.
Adrian Monk: Hold on.
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: It doesn't have to be perfect!
Adrian Monk: Wait a second.
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: It doesn't have to be perfect.
Adrian Monk: Almost done.
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: Doesn't-
Adrian Monk: Wait one sec-
Natalie: Mr. Monk, please, just let him finish!
Adrian Monk: Hold on.
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: She's suffering, Mr. Monk! It doesn't have to be- Okay, that's close enough.

Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: The potion is ready. Potion's ready. Cleanse this body. Release its soul. Expel its darkness. Make her whole. [Natalie sips the potion] What did you do?
Natalie: What?
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: Did you drink that?
Natalie: Yeah, you said-
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: You're supposed to rub it on your neck! What, are you mental?
Adrian Monk: What do we do? What do we do?
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: What? 911. 911. 911. 911!
Adrian Monk: Is that another chant?
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: No, call 911!

Adrian Monk: Angeline, right?
Angeline Dilworth: Mr. Monk, small world.
Adrian Monk: I didn't know you were a paramedic.
Angeline Dilworth: Oh, I didn't mention that?
Adrian Monk: No you didn't.
Male Paramedic: What was in it specifically?
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: Nothing that unusual. Some alkanet root, some deer tongue, root bark, motherwart, graveyard dirt.
Male Paramedic: What wasn't in it? Let's just write all this down.
Adrian Monk: I'll go with you.
Angeline Dilworth: Sorry, there's- There's no room.
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: You can ride with me, if you don't mind the mess.

Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: You were there. You were a witness. I said the potion was ready. I never said to drink it. That's not voodoo. That's voo-don't.
Adrian Monk: What is all this stuff? It's gonna get us killed!
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: They're my good-luck charms!
Adrian Monk: It's a small world.
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: Excuse me?
Adrian Monk: The paramedic, I met her before. She was Robert Boyd's niece. Wait, wait, and before that! Victim number two! She was the paramedic on the golf course.
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: Oh, there's got to be a good explanation. I know Angeline, and she's a good person.
Adrian Monk: Whoa, whoa, whoa. You know her?
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: I mean, I've seen her around. She's a customer.
Adrian Monk: She's a customer? Has she ever bought any of those dolls?
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: Sure five, maybe six.
Adrian Monk: That's it. That's it. She's the guy.
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: Who's the guy?
Adrian Monk: The paramedic! Angeline, she's the connection. Her uncle was loaded. He was the real target. The other dolls were just distractions. It was so simple. It was brilliant! All she need were some packages that had been postmarked. So she mailed a few empty boxes to herself, then she waited. She need the right accident, the right victim. Martha Murphy was perfect. She lived alone. Angeline borrowed her key, snuck into her house, and left the box and customized doll in plain sight. Two days later, she did the same thing with Mr.
Farris. The third victim was the real target. Killing her uncle was easy. Angeline's a paramedic. She knew exactly what drugs to use, something untraceable, something that would look like a heart attack. She put some good-luck charms around his house to make him look superstitious, and the stage was set.
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: Thanks a lot, detective. I'll probably never sell another voodoo doll.

Adrian Monk: Do you have a cell phone?
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: No, I never use them. I prefer to communicate over the astral plane.
Adrian Monk: Hadley!
Reverend Hadley Jorgensen: Fine.