Straight From The Scientist's Mouth
Page 2
Grissom : Sara, body of your own. Dumpster
out near Henderson.
Sara : Oh, I'll dress down.
Sara: Ah, the Mile High Club. That means
two passengers may have had no idea what was going on inside that cabin.
Grissom: You know, high altitudes increases the entire
sexual experience. It increases the euphoria.
Sara: It's good, I don't know if it's that good ...Cite
your source.
Grissom: Hand me a swab, please.
Sara: You're avoiding the question. Enhances sexual
experience, increases euphoria. Cite your source.
Grissom : A magazine.
Sara: What magazine?
Grissom: Applied Psychodynamics in Forensic Science.
Sara: Never heard of it.
Grissom: I'll get you a subscription. Now cite your
source.
Sara: Oh, now you want to go down that route.
Grissom: Yeah.
Sara: Nah, never mind.
Grissom: You started it.
Sara: [Long pause] Delta Airlines, Flight 1109. Boston
to Miami, March '93. Ken Fuller. Hazel eyes, Organic Chem Lab TA, BMOC. Overrated
in every aspect ... Could we get back to work please?
Grissom: Yeah ... [deadpan] I think that due to your
first hand knowledge and experience in airplane bathrooms, you should do the
swab.
Sara: You know how you say we're the
victim's last voice? [Grissom barely nods] I thought it was our job to speak
for Kaye Shelton.
Grissom: You don't crunch evidence to fit a theory.
Sara: What if you hear the victim's screams? In the
car, at the store.
Grissom: You have empathy for her Sara. You want someone
to pay for what was done to her, that's normal.
Sara: [nods/long pause] You wanna sleep with me?
Grissom: [confused pause/removes glasses] Did you just
say what I think you said?
Sara: That way, when I wake up in a cold sweat under
the blanket, hearing Kaye's screams, you can tell me it's nothing. It's just
empathy.
Warrick: What are you going to do?
Sara: We're going to go blow up some bombs.
Warrick: Oh I definitely got the wrong end of this investigation
[leaves].
Grissom: Alas, poor Warrick.
Grissom: [licks rock] Bones are porous, this isn't,
its a rock.
Catherine: I hope you your Hepatits B shot! Did you?
Catherine: Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
Grissom: How amazing the universe is. Everything made
from the same carbon, stars to trees, trucks to human bones.
Catherine: Uh, no, I was thinking that we have about
100 bone fragments. We could ID this body by the end of shift.
Catherine: I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say
they're hiding something.
Grissom: Then we get to play hide-and-seek.
Grisson: [To Catherine, about severed leg] So Watson, the game's afoot.
Grissom: It took five people to kill him. It would only have taken one person to ask him if he was okay.
Grissom: Repeat after me. Silk, silk, silk.
Nick: Silk, silk, silk.
Grissom: What do cows drink?
Nick: Milk.
Grissom: Cows drink water. They produce milk.
Grissom: I need you to roll up your sleeve and give
me a pint of your blood?
Holly Gribbs: What for?
Grissom: It's customary for all new hires.
Holly Gribbs: Why?
Grissom: So many reasons....
Warrick: Where'd you get the blood?
Grissom: The new girl. Want to donate?
Warrick: Hell, no!
[Sara finds Grissom pacing furiously]
Grissom: Ninety-five.
Sara: I'm sorry?
Grissom: Normally my pulse is seventy, when it gets
up to ninety-five, I realize just how mad I am.
Sara: You're too hard on yourself.
Grissom: No, I'm not mad at ME, I have ten people
working in there, and that guy knows where the body is, and I CAN'T FIND
IT!
Sara: So what's your pulse at now?
Grissom: You bring in a specialist without consulting
me?
Catherine: What? And you don't bring one in, possibly
compromising the case because you two had a relationship?
Grissom: Relationship? I hardly know that woman.
Catherine: Oh, so I guess that dopey look in your
eye whenever she's around is just you.
[Grissom and Catherine enter a restaurant to investigate
the death of one of its chefs]
Hostess: Hi, last name?
Grissom: We don't have reservation. We're here...
Hostess: [taking back the phone] Party of four? Three
weeks from Thursday? Let me see...
Catherine: Excuse me but you don't understand...
Hostess: [holding up the phone] No, I'm sorry you
don't understand. Your walk-in's in a very busy night. We're short a chef.
Catherine: We know. He's dead.
Grissom: Not only dead. Dismembered. We're with the
crime lab.
Hostess: [putting down the phone] I'll get the owner.
Sara: Do you want to have dinner with me?
Grissom: No.
Sara: Come on, let's go to dinner... see what happens.
Grissom: I... don't know what to do about this.
Sara: I do. And when you finally figure it out, you
might be too late
[Grissom lights up a pickle in the lab]
Grissom: You know this is how I cooked my hot dogs
in college.
[Grissom to Dr. Robbins, who's holding a severed
head]
Grissom: I'd heard you'd got some head.
Grissom: Catherine, there's a volcano on the table.
[Looking at bottles] Aluminum powder, polivinil
butadiene, ammonium perchlorate.
Catherine: The three ingredients to make lava flow.
In fifth grade I built one of these as my science fair project. It was awesome.
Fisrt place should've been mine. They ended up giving it to this kid with
some lame red ant colony.
Grissom: *Smirks*
Catherine: That was you!
Grissom: Yeah, only my ants were black Argentinians.
Catherine: Aha.
Grissom: I learned at a very early age that the bugs
always win.
Catherine: Right.
Grissom: *smirk*
Gil Grissom: We look at each case objectively, regardless of sex, creed, color, or bubblegum flavor.
Grissom: Mister Willoughby, may I ask if I can fingerpring
your spigot?
Willoughby: No one's ever asked me that before.
Grissom: Four years ago when I decided to close the
case, did you agree with my decision?
Nick: Well, you were following protocol.
Grissom: And now?
Nick: Now I'd fight you on it, yeah.
Grissom: Why?
Nick: Rita Westonson was a dependable, predicable
girl. We never answered the question why she just woke up one morning and
walked away from the rest of her life.
Grissom: It happens. And that's what the evidence
was telling us.
Nick: That's what the physical evidence was
telling us. We should've dug deeper. You can't just ignore the human element,
Grissom.
Grissom: I agree, Nick. But when you start
to have feelings for the people involved, you risk your objectivity.
Nick: So what? You know, I'm always getting
criticized for empathizing with the victims and their families, but that's
who I am, that's how I do my job. As far the promotion goes, it's all good,
man. I can live without it. I'm not you.
[Grissom pauses, staring at Nick who uncomfortably returns the look]
Grissom: [sitting down at computer]
Good. We certainly don't need another me around here. [Looks sideways at
Nick]
Nick: [Leaves]
Grissom: [Smirks as he begins writing a recommendation
for Nick's promotion].
[Brass and Grissom are sitting in an interrogration
room with a suspect who's leaving]
Grissom: [sadly and softly, looking between the table
and the doctor] It's sad isn't it, Doc? Guys like us. Couple of middle-aged
men who've allowed their work to consume their lives. The only time we ever
touch other people is when we're wearing our latex gloves. We wake up one
day and realize that for fifty years we haven't really lived at all. But
then, all of a sudden...we get a second chance. Somebody young and beautiful
shows up, somebody...we can care about. She offers us a new life with her.
But we have a big decision to make, right? Because we have to risk everything
we've worked for in order to have her. I couldn't do it. But you did. You
risked it all. And she showed you a wonderful life, didn't she? But then
she took it away and gave it to somebody else, and you were lost. So you
took her life. You killed 'em both. And now you have nothing.
Doctor: [standing the doorway]
I'm still here.
Grissom: Are you?
Doctor: [Leaves].
Grissom: [sitting alone in the room,
hangs his head and sighs as Sara looks in through the glass].
Grissom: Every now and then we have to break the rules. Start with the conclusion and work your way backwards.
Grissom: There is no room for subjectivity in this job.
Grissom: We meet people everyday on the worst day of their lives.
Grissom: [To Warrick] What do you weigh?
Warrick: Uh, that's between me and my trainer.
Grissom: Do I have to get a scale?
Warrick: A buck 95, give or take a doughnut.
[Grissom turns to Sara]
Sara: Don't even ask, I'm not telling you.
Grissom: Warrick, would you lie down on the floor.
Warrick: I don't get paid enough to play dead.
Grissom: Please?
[Warrick gets on the floor]
Catherine: [after Grissom pulls the 4x4 to the road
side during her training run] 20 C.S.I.s, 200 runners...
Grissom: Dont't blame me. Blame him
[Shines his flashlight onto a corpse by the side of
the road]
Grissom: [holding a large, purple dildo from the dishwasher] Well, cleanliness is next to godliness.
Grissom: Did you hear the one about the cop and the
money who go into a bar?
Catherine: I'm not in the mood.
Grissom: Neither was the monkey.
Grissom: Hi, beetle!
Grissom: [to a room full of corpses that frightened Holly Gribbs] You assholes!
Murderer: Hey, Grissom! This guy sent me away to
prison...shoeprints! Next time I'm going barefoot.
Grissom: Even better...footprints.
Grissom: So let's see. You surf, you scuba dive.
You're into latex, you like fashion models and Marilyn Manson. And you also
have a coin collection.
Greg: Weird, huh?
Grissom: Well, I race cockroaches.
Grissom: My bugs are my babies, my children.
Grissom: You're very good. You could work for me.
Lady Heather: You want to be my boss?
Grissom: [Nick walks into Grissom's office triggering a singing fish] That's my "Big Mouth Billy Bass." He's better than a watch dog.
Brass: Hey, look what I found: a knife
with blood on it.
Grissom: Hey, look what I found: a dead guy.
Father Powell: You don't believe?
Gil Grissom: In religion. I believe in God, in science,
in Sunday supper. I don't believe in rules that tell me how I should live.
Father Powell: Even if they're handed down by God?
Gil Grissom: How many crusades were fought in the
name of God? How many people died because of someone's religion?
Father Powell: Fanaticism, not religion.
Gil Grissom: Semantics. They're still dead.
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