Yes, I'm Cuno's pig. I agree.

I won't forsake the drink -- it makes me happy.

I haven't lost this satin shirt. (Smell your armpit.)

The gloaming. I *am* it.

Fuckady-fuck...

Yes. *Wow*. (Lean in.) I am now a herald of the Planetary Slaughterhouse. The Abattoir To Come.

I've lost almost everything, Cuno. My memory, my money, even my name... I *can't* lose my job too! Please, PLEASE help me...

Broken bird. Feathers. (Nod knowingly.) This is all part of the mind-fuck on the cock-carousel.

I want to have fuck with you.

I lost my memory, too, but I like it. It's like I get to create a whole new me, start again from scratch.

I didn't want to fight you. You're the tiny ape I loved.

Fucking die! (Throw the empty gun at her.)

Yes, yes... some shit gimps left behind. Were those gimps... (Suddenly raise your eyes.) ...left-handed?

I'd like to dedicate this song to my partner, Kim Kitsuragi.

They were on the roof. I did not... I did not catch them. Fucking butterfingers...

F... d... dfuck you!

(Turn to Mikael.) He means they all got shot in the head because they were bourgeois. Now, do you know what the bourgeoisie is?

Friends forever! (Eat your half of the sandwich.)

But Kim... the plasmic manifestations...

Hear that, Kim? I am a *huge* deal around here.

I am an alcohol-operated detective. If you want me to solve crimes or do whatever it is I'm here to do you need to insert alcohol into my mouth.

Kim, you son of a bitch...

The end is near anyway, I might as well see this through...

You talk a big talk, lieutenant! Let's see some moves!

I'm once again reminded of how Contact Mike rose from the slums of Saint-Batiste to the top of the boxing world, overcoming adversity and serious brain trauma. Nothing is coming -- nothing he wouldn't knock out in three rounds. The real fight is for the right attitude.

Okay, I know you're mad, but I actually just talked to the spirit of Revachol and she told me we need to work together...

I have no idea why she'd be scared. I'm just a normal cop with regular thoughts in his head.

Kim, did you know TipTop Tournée is actually an orgiastic ritual of capitalistic destruction? I had no idea!

(Look at your wrist.) It's apocalypse o' clock. Time to commence the Gloaming.

I cannot. I cannot live without this job... fuck you then! And fuck me! I'll go.