Lionel is at his cheap office reading a Matt Savage detective novel when the phone rings. A man who refuses to give his name says that he wants to hire the Lionel Whitney Agency, and has left $1,000 in his mail chute. The man insists the case is delicate and he'll reveal himself eventually, and then gives Lionel directions to meet him...Read the full recap
Lionel: "My senses were quivering like ten pounds of lime jello on a cracked porcelain plate."
Lionel: Stop treating me like I don't know what I'm doing. I know what I'm doing. This guy's in trouble. We sell a service, he's paying for that service. Okay, he's a little eccentric.
E.L.: Yeah, Jack the Ripper was a little eccentric, my friend.
E.L.: You see, what I'm talking about is a basic philosophical difference. A compendium of evidence seems to support the theory that guns have an inverse rather than direct relationship to life. And a corollary axiom suggests that when one observes a gun in the hands of an unfriendly, one should split to the trenches, hunker down, and be very, very, very quiet.
E.L.: All right. I'm chicken. But I'm a pragmatic chicken, and those are the best kind, you see. Because they never end up swimming with the potatoes and gravy.
Joe: I mean, I got this kind of thing about broads, you know? I mean, okay, I know I look like the back of a truck. But underneath, I got feelings, well. See, I've been watching what's going on in America, and I'm for this ERW thing.
Joe: Yeah, that's the one. I mean, I think broads oughta have their rights, you know? I mean, I wouldn't want one flying no aeroplane or nothing, but when it comes to, like, being clerks and stuff, hell's bells, lets get liberal.