Adrian Monk: Excuse me? Do you mind if we traded seats?
Juror #10: Why?
Adrian Monk: I'd rather be number 10, my favorite number. It's kind of important to me.
Cobb: Look, the guy is trying to change seats. You know what, pal? Nobody's trading anything with you. Now sit down, okay? I mean it. Sit, okay?

Foreman: Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.
Teacher: Wow, that was easy. Guess I'll be home for dinner.
Housewife Juror: Wait a minute. That was only 11. Who didn't vote?
Adrian Monk: Smudge.

Adrian Monk: Excuse me. Would you mind trying these on?
Sports Fan Juror: What for?
Adrian Monk: You're about the same height of the victim, and I just want to try something. It'll just take a minute.
Cobb: What do you got? A fashion show, huh? I can't believe this guy.
Adrian Monk: We know these are the pants the victim was wearing when he was attacked. Could you step up, please? Of course, you can see where the knife went through the fabric. Well, something doesn't add up. I notice Mr. Palmer likes to wear his pants low. In the courtroom, we could almost see his bottom part. Rear posterior, side...
Pat: His butt?
Adrian Monk: Thank you. Look at the wound. He was actually stabbed in the upper thigh. It doesn't match up.
Patel: He's right, look at that.
Adrian Monk: At least, not when he's standing. Could you have a seat, please?
Sneezer: Son of a bitch. He was sitting down.
Pierced Girl: What does that prove?
Adrian Monk: Mr. Palmer said he was standing up when he was stabbed.
Sneezer: He was lying.
Adrian Monk: I think he pulled into that rest stop, saw Robert Perry who was sleeping, stabbed himself, pocketed the money, and then blamed everything on Perry.

Postal Worker: What about the DNA evidence? You can't just ignore that. They found the victim's blood on Perry's knife?
Adrian Monk: How do we know it was Robert Perry's knife? He denied ever seeing it.
Cobb: Of course he denied it. What the hell do you expect?
Adrian Monk: Well, his prints weren't on it.
Cobb: Well, then, he wiped them off, huh? Look, it was in his knapsack! What the hell kind of a detective are you?
Adrian Monk: I'm the kind of detective who wonders why someone would take the time to wipe down the handle, but not the blade.

Adrian Monk: Also, the timeline is all wrong. Robert Perry was picked up an hour after the assault. Less than two miles from there.
Postal Worker: So what?
Adrian Monk: He wasn't running away. If I had just stabbed somebody... Somebody moved that tarp.
Foreman: Excuse me?
Adrian Monk: There is a dumpster down there with a tarp in it. Yesterday, the tarp was rolled up and draped over the side.
Pat: What does it have to do with us or this case?
Pierced Girl: Or anything?
Adrian Monk: I'm sorry, you're right. You're right. Okay, what's next? The money. Okay, the money. What happened to the money?
Sports Fan Juror: Maybe he buried it.
Adrian Monk: Lime. Somebody poured lime all over that tarp. I think there's a body down there.
Sweet Old Lady: Oh, we're never getting out of here.

Adrian Monk: Hello, I'm number 11.
Bailiff: Yeah, I remember.
Adrian Monk: I know this sounds crazy, but there's a dumpster downstairs. I saw a police dog sniffing around. I think there's a body under that blue tarp.
Bailiff: Judge Rienzo said I should keep an eye on you. He said to report you if you cause any delay or disruption. Is that what you're doing?
Adrian Monk: No. No, no, no.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Tell me again. I've been called away from the most important case of my career because...
Natalie: Because Mr. Monk said he saw a body.
Captain Stottlemeyer: From up there. From the third floor. While he was deliberating on another case.
Lieutenant Disher: Captain! We got a body.

Natalie: Mr. Monk, it's a woman! She's about 60 years old!
Adrian Monk: Who is she?
Lieutenant Disher: No ID.
Natalie: No ID!
Adrian Monk: No idea?
Natalie: No ID.
Adrian Monk: No idea.
Natalie: No ID!
Adrian Monk: No idea?
Natalie: No I - D!
Adrian Monk: No idea.
Natalie: No... [tries to pose like the letters with Disher] I D.
Adrian Monk: No idea?
Lieutenant Disher: No ID!
Natalie: No ID!
Adrian Monk: No idea? Check her identification.

Adrian Monk: Are those orthopedic shoes?
Lieutenant Disher: What?
Adrian Monk: Those shoes, orthopedic shoes.
Lieutenant Disher: Yeah, I think so.
Adrian Monk: I remember I saw her in the waiting room! I think she's a juror!
Lieutenant Disher: What?
Adrian Monk: A juror!
Lieutenant Disher: What?
Adrian Monk: A juror!

Cobb: What are you doing?
Adrian Monk: You were smoking.
Cobb: I'm allowed to smoke. Read the sign.
Adrian Monk: It's keeping me awake. You're gonna start a fire.
Cobb: Then there's no problem. You're awake, right? If there is a fire, you'll see it and put it out, right?
Hey, right?
Adrian Monk: Right. Right.
Cobb: [groans] Don't be such an ass in the jury room. Good night.
Adrian Monk: Good night.