Will: You know, a few hours ago, my biggest problem was judging a stuffing contest. Now look at me. Stuck in a jail cell with some angry 400-pound man whose life you wrecked. You clipped him, didn't you? I'm sorry, Uncle Phil. [groans] It's the worst Thanksgiving I ever had.
Philip: And thank you so much for sharing it with me.
Will: Look at us. All hungry. I'm about to dig in to this cream-of-bug sandwich. And our family sitting around the dining-room table, big gorgeous roasted turkey, four different kinds of stuffing. Candied yams, and macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes.
Philip: And little tiny onions swimming in a sea of cream sauce. Hendricks!
Lieutenant Hendricks: Listen, Banks, if it's a sandwich you're after, they're all gone.
Philip: In the first place, it's not "Banks", it's "Your Honor." Now you get your butt over to that telephone and you pull the district attorney from whatever meal he may be eating and you tell him that you have Judge Philip Banks in jail under a bogus charge. And you might wanna mention the fact that we have been denied due process. A phone call, access to legal representation and every other conceivable right guaranteed to us by the constitution. And don't forget to mention that no statements have been taken, no witnesses interviewed, and none of the most fundamental procedures that the newest rookie on a beat would know, have been followed. My nephew and I are completely innocent, and if you don't take care of this matter, it will be you having your picture taken with numbers across your chest.