You know my method. It is founded upon the observation of trifles. Holmes and Watson are on a camping trip. In the middle of the night Holmes wakes up and gives Dr. Watson a nudge. ‘Watson’ he says, ‘look up in the sky and tell me what you see.’ ‘I see millions of stars, Holmes,’ says Watson. ‘And what do you conclude from that, Watson?’ Watson thinks for a moment. ‘Well,’ he says, ‘astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo. Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three. Meterologically, I suspect that we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. Theologically, I see that God is all-powerful, and we are small and insignificant. Uh, what does it tell you, Holmes?’ ‘Watson, you idiot! Someone has stolen our tent!’ I have always held, too, that pistol practice should be distinctly an open-air pastime; and when Holmes, in one of his queer humours, would sit in an armchair with his hair-trigger and a hundred Boxer cartridges and proceed to adorn the opposite wall with a patriotic V.R. done in bullet pocks, I felt strongly that neither the atmosphere nor the appearance of our room was improved by it. You see, but you do not observe. The distinction is clear. The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes. Come, Watson, come! The game is afoot. Not a word! Into your clothes and come! Elementary, my dear Watson. My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people don’t know.
Man walks down the street in a hat like that, you know he’s not afraid of anything. If anyone gets nosy, just …you know … shoot ’em. Shoot ’em? Politely, of course. Also? I can kill you with my brain. Next time you want to stab me in the back, have the guts to do it to my face. Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal! You’re welcome on my boat. God ain’t. Yes sir, Captain Tightpants!
Someone ever tries to kill you, you try to kill ’em right back! I swear by my pretty floral bonnet, I will end you. Also? I can kill you with my brain. Yes sir, Captain Tightpants!
Say goodbye to these, because it’s the last time! It’s a hug, Michael. I’m hugging you. I don’t criticize you! And if you’re worried about criticism, sometimes a diet is the best defense. Oh, you’re gonna be in a coma, all right.