I have a feeling that you're way off on this.

You have the wrong feeling.

You're not doing very much to prove me wrong!

What more do you need?

Well, it's going to take a lot more than fancy talk to keep me up all night crawling around these bushes.

I watched him for fifteen years, sitting in a room staring at a wall, not seeing the wall, looking past the wall, looking at this night, inhumanly patient, waiting for some secret, silent alarm to trigger him off. Death has come to your little town, Sheriff. You can either ignore it or you can help me to stop it.

More fancy talk.