Captain Stottlemeyer: You're retiring? How old are you?
Gordo: 46.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Did you win the lottery?
Gordo: No, I've been investing. Real estate. What have you been doing with your savings?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Uh, eating. You know, I need to talk to my accountant.
Natalie: What, you have an accountant?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Nope. Gonna have to get an accountant, then I'm gonna talk to him.

Shirt Salesman: How are you today? Do you see anything you like?
Adrian Monk: Is Dennis here? He usually takes care of me.
Shirt Salesman: Oh, no, I'm afraid Dennis quit.
Adrian Monk: He quit?
Shirt Salesman: Yeah, apparently he had one regular customer that was driving him crazy.
Natalie: Now, we're gonna be up all night wondering who that was.

Shirt Salesman: Okay, here you go. Inspected by number 8. Is there really a difference?
Adrian Monk: Are you kidding? Look at this. Look, she's an artist. Oh, I've been admiring her work for years. You know, every shirt, every stitch, every button is perfect. There's a tear. There's a tear.
Natalie: Where, where, where?
Adrian Monk: There's a tear, right there. Ah, look at this, the sleeve is all wrong. It's completely crooked.
Natalie: Well, maybe she had a bad day.
Adrian Monk: No, that's not possible. I know inspector number 8. She never lets anything get past her.
Natalie: Mr. Monk, are you okay?
Adrian Monk: Something's wrong.
Natalie: What?
Adrian Monk: Something is very wrong with inspector number 8. Dennis? Dennis?

Natalie: Yes, we're looking for another shirt just like this.
Shirt Salesman: You want the same shirt?
Adrian Monk: Identical, yeah. Same collar, same pattern, 16-inch neck, 33-inch sleeve.
Shirt Salesman: Okay, but you already have one of those, so, maybe it's time to try a little variety, because... [Natalie clears her throat] Or maybe not. Okay. Yeah, there you go. 16-inch collar, 33-inch sleeve.
Adrian Monk: No, this one's inspected by number 6. I'm not a big fan of number 6. Do you have any that are inspected by number 8?
Shirt Salesman: You're kidding, right? [off Monk's look] You're not kidding. Okay. The customer's always right. At least until today.

Adrian Monk: It's not funny.
Natalie: Sorry.
Adrian Monk: Inspector number 8 is very important to me because no matter how bad things go, I knew I could always count on her.
Natalie: Mr. Monk, you understand you're talking about someone you have never even met. Who works in a factory somewhere who inspects shirts.
Adrian Monk: She's my soulmate.
Natalie: You don't even know if it's a man or a woman.
Adrian Monk: I love her. I think she's in trouble.
Natalie: Okay, maybe she's retired. Maybe there's a new number 8.
Adrian Monk: It's not possible. She would never retire. She loves her work. Look at this shirt. Now, inspector number 5, I can see him retiring, because he stopped caring years ago.

Natasia Zorelle: Um, I guess we can talk while I change. Meet me over there? Only one of you.
Lieutenant Disher: Okay. Guess the only fair way is alphabetically.
Adrian Monk: Oh. Adrian.
Lieutenant Disher: No, last names. So, A is no. B, no. C, no. D, Disher, that's...
Captain Stottlemeyer: Monk, you go. It's your case.
Lieutenant Disher: Disher comes before Monk. It's the first last name.

Adrian Monk: Excuse me. Number 8? I'm Adrian Monk. This is my friend Natalie Teeger.
Maria Ortiz: Adrian Monk? The same?
Adrian Monk: Oh, you saved it. That's the only fan letter I ever wrote.
Maria Ortiz: I am Maria Ortiz.
Adrian Monk: Maria. It's an honor and a pleasure. It's so nice when you can put a face with the little tag in the pocket. Uh oh, are you approving this? This has a little stain there. [Maria sobs] I knew it. I knew it. You are upset about something.
Natalie: Maria, Mr. Monk has been really worried about you.
Maria Ortiz: It's not me. It's my son Pablo.
Natalie: Oh, I remember this case. The model, Clea Vance.
Maria Ortiz: The papers are wrong. Everyone is wrong. Pablo is a good boy. He's innocent.
Adrian Monk: Oh, I know it's hard. You might feel better if you focused on your work. You know, and started inspecting these shirts again. Here's the thing, Maria. I've only got 5 shirts left.

Natalie: They all look so unhappy. How can you be that attractive and be so sad?
Lieutenant Disher: Well, maybe it's because we're never really sure if people like us for ourselves.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Were those prescription?
Gordo: Probably not.
Captain Stottlemeyer: We'll check with her doctor. Make a note.
Lieutenant Disher: I'll remember.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Where's your notebook?
Lieutenant Disher: I didn't bring it. It's an Italian suit. It was ruining the lines. Don't worry. I got it.

Julian Hodge: What's going on?
Adrian Monk: She's taking Julie home.
Julian Hodge: Why on earth would she do that?
Adrian Monk: Because I told her that you killed Clea Vance a year ago. And I'm betting that you killed Natasia Zorel last night. Who else would have straightened the clothes on Clea Vance's body?
Julian Hodge: Oh, and why would I do something like that?
Adrian Monk: I would have.
Julian Hodge: Is that it? Straightened out the clothes? [laughs] I mean, that's not evidence.
Adrian Monk: That's a hunch. That's all it is so far.
Julian Hodge: You trust your instincts, don't you?
Adrian Monk: Oh, yes.
Julian Hodge: And would it be the same infallible instincts that you used when picked out that jacket? Or when you did those buttons right up to the top on your shirt. What about the evidence, Mr. Monk? What about... Well, you've heard of DNA, right? I mean, does that ring a bell here?
Adrian Monk: DNA, yes.
Julian Hodge: The fibers, the hair, and the blood, they all belong to that boy, Pablo Ortiz, who's in jail. It couldn't have been me. Just not possible.
Adrian Monk: You're right. It's not possible. But you did it.