Adrian Monk: Is this a private party?
Tony G.: Frankie, I thought you left town.
Lenny Barlowe: What are you wearing?
Adrian Monk: Chanel No. 5. What are you wearing?
Lenny Barlowe: What?
Adrian Monk: I figured out what was going on. I put two and two together. This is Greenblatt's kid, right? What's he into you for?
Jimmy Barlowe: 700 grand, but we got what we need. We're gonna finish it.
Adrian Monk: Let me do it. Give me the gun.
Lenny Barlowe: Why? What for?
Adrian Monk: I'm a professional, all right? Hey, I got a reputation. His old man keeled over ten minutes before I got there. I felt like a fool. It pissed me off. Let me do it, no charge. On the house, for my own peace of mind. I just want to put this kid ten feet under.
Jimmy Barlowe: You mean six feet under.
Adrian Monk: Whatever you want. I prefer ten. It's up to you. Give me the gun.

Lola: Does Natalie know you're here? Is she ancient history too? I was just getting ready for bed. You want to do my legs?
Adrian Monk: No more games, Lola. Who is Stanley Greenblatt? I need to know.
Lola: Fine. Frankie, you win. I'll tell you. But you need to come and sit with me.
Adrian Monk: [scoffs]
Lola: The room might be bugged. Closer. I don't know. [pins Monk down and kisses him] Who are you?
Adrian Monk: You know who I am. I'm Fr... Adrian. Depal-Monk.
Lola: What?
Adrian Monk: I'm Adrian.
Lola: Wait a second. No, no. I'm confused here. What's going on? Are you okay? You're acting like you're, like, hypnotized or something.

Delivery Guy: Excuse me. Miss? Where you want it?
Natalie: Talk to him.
Adrian Monk: Oh, finally.
Delivery Guy: Hey, sport, where am I going?
Adrian Monk: Well, it's a refrigerator. Let's try the kitchen.
Delivery Guy: Yeah, all right. I was just asking.

Delivery Guy: That's another step.
Adrian Monk: Where?
Delivery Guy: Right there.
Adrian Monk: What, that? What are you talking about?
Delivery Guy: Yeah, it's gonna cost you.
Adrian Monk: Cost me what?
Delivery Guy: Money, 40 bucks. It's in the contract.
Adrian Monk: What?
Delivery Guy: Page four. "Any change in elevation in said residence or place of business shall constitute a stairway. Additional delivery fees may apply."
Adrian Monk: That's ridiculous. It's not a step. It's a lip. It's not even a lip. It's a demi-lip.
Delivery Guy: It's a step. You want this refrigerator or not?
Adrian Monk: Yeah.
Delivery Guy: 40 bucks. For the step.
Adrian Monk: Excuse me.

Adrian Monk: Natalie, he wants 40 more dollars.
Natalie: What for?
Adrian Monk: The floor is uneven.
Natalie: Well, that's ridiculous. It's just a lip.
Adrian Monk: That's what I said, exactly, verbatim.
Natalie: Tell him no.
Adrian Monk: He's doing the stare-down.
Natalie: Then stare back. Mr. Monk, he's testing you. Just look him in the eye and say no.
Adrian Monk: I don't think I can. I've never won a stare-down in my life. I'm "O" for five.
Natalie: Mr. Monk, this is your house, isn't it? You can't let someone stare you down in your own house.
Adrian Monk: It's my house. You're absolutely right.
Delivery Guy: What's it gonna be?
Adrian Monk: Okay, $40.
Delivery Guy: Plus $120 for the delivery.
Adrian Monk: Ah, just a second.
Delivery Guy: Plus gratuity.
Adrian Monk: Okay, there you go. Thank you very much.

Agent Stone: I work for a division of the bureau called Team Alpha. It's our job to identify and track high-profile targets, dangerous individuals. For the last four months, we've been following a man named Frank DePalma. He's a contract killer, an assassin. He's probably the best in the world.
Captain Stottlemeyer: I've never heard of him.
Agent Stone: Well, he's worked very hard to make sure you haven't heard of him. He's linked to 17 murders. Ten here, five in New York and two in Asia. We've never been able to prove a thing. There's just no evidence at all.
Adrian Monk: I'm sorry.
Agent Stone: What does this have to do with me? Mr. DePalma arrived in Los Angeles yesterday morning, and at 4:35 pm, he stepped off a curb on Wilshire Boulevard and was hit by a bus. He was killed instantly.
Adrian Monk: I'm sorry. What does this have to do with me?
Agent Stone: Here's a picture of Frank DePalma.
Natalie: Oh, my God!
Captain Stottlemeyer: Jeez Louise, look at that.
Lieutenant Disher: Sweet.
Adrian Monk: I'm sorry. What does this have to do with me?

Agent Stone: Fortunately, we were there when the accident occurred. So we kept a lid on it. We kept the press out. The death certificate says "John Doe," so officially, it never happened.
Captain Stottlemeyer: I think I see where this is going.
Lieutenant Disher: Yeah, me too.
Captain Stottlemeyer: No, you don't.

Agent Stone: You were born and raised...
Adrian Monk: 829 Chambers Street. Allston, Massachusetts. Parents: Joseph and Helen. He was a professional gambler. Died when I was 14.
Agent Stone: Your first arrest?
Adrian Monk: October 22nd, 1997. Assault and battery. I did 2 1/2 years at Joliet, and my cellmate's name was Barry "The Maggot" Franklin.
Agent Stone: First contract kill?
Adrian Monk: November 13th, 1999, Key West. Real estate billionaire Donnie Hernandez. I blew up his yacht. Made it look like a fuel leak.
Agent Stone: Well, that was very impressive, Mr. Monk. Or should I say "Mr. DePalma"? All right, we better get you dressed. Your friends are meeting us downstairs.

Adrian Monk: I just forgot it.
Agent Stone: Forgot what?
Adrian Monk: Everything about the guy. It's a blank. Hold on. Okay, I got it back. Wait, it's gone again. Okay, it's back.
Agent Stone: Adrian, look, I've run dozens of agents undercover. The end of the day, it's all about attitude.
Adrian Monk: Attitude.
Agent Stone: You gotta sell it. You gotta believe that you're Frankie DePalma. Right, you walk through a door, you don't just walk through it. You stride. You swagger. You're at the table, you own the table. OK, you are the toughest son of a bitch in the room, and everybody knows it.
Adrian Monk: Like the refrigerator delivery man.
Agent Stone: Right. Okay, from this moment on, Adrian Monk, he doesn't exist. Right. You're Frankie DePalma. You're a killing machine. Yeah, that's it.

Adrian Monk: [over radio] There's a suitcase on the ottoman. I am opening the suitcase. The suitcase is open. Wait a minute. It's wider on the outside than it is on the inside. There must be a hidden. Hidden compartment. There's someone at the door. [knock on door] I am walking toward the door. Hello?
Lola: [o.s.] It's Lola.
Adrian Monk: Lola who?
Lola: That's not funny, Frankie. Open the door.
Adrian Monk: Okay.
Lola: How many Lolas do you know? How many other Lolas do you need to know? Wow, you look really nice Frankie.
Adrian Monk: Thank you.
Lola: At this point, most men would be commenting on how I look, but that's cool. You're not most men. You're definitely one of a kind.
Adrian Monk: Not quite.