You have no idea what I had to go through to clip this thing, John.
Yeah. I get it. You actually think you brought me something good.
That thing did it!
Keep your voice down, did what? We have a suicide, Detective, end of story.
I am telling you that robot killed him!
And I'm telling you that's impossible, and if it is possible it sure as hell better be in somebody else's precinct!
John! Give me five minutes with him.
What are you, nuts? I just got off the phone with the D.A.; he said nobody goes into that room until Robertson and his attorneys get here.
What -- no, this is my suspect!
It's a can opener, for Christ's sake.
John, don't do this to me, I am asking you for five minutes. What if I'm right?
Well, then I guess we're going to miss the good old days.
What good old days?
When people were killed by other people. [beat] Five minutes.
