Oh, poor McMounty. [affects Canadian accent] Hey, so have you seen any, like, moose and stuff up there? Hey, where's your buddy Claude. Isn't that your friendly St. Bernard with a little barrel of whiskey under his chin?!
I've been up here playing Dudley Do-Right for two weeks, all right? It's September and there's snow on the ground, could you at least give me a little compassion here?
And what would that be for? Did you forget to take off your toque when you entered a room? You're going to get in trouble up there, hanging with the bluenecks, throwing back a two-four of pale ale.
Just because I was alone, manning the fort, handling Gibbs solo, while you've been strolling around South Beach dancing to the rhythm of the night, why would I feel the need to say anything negative?
Did I ever tell you about the first case that Jethro and I worked? Two sailors capsized a recreational skiff one summer's eve; panic ensued. When they were finally located, one sailor was dead and the other severely hypothermic.
No. Rather than watch his friend slowly expire, one sailor stabbed the other, claiming that it was more humane. He was convinced that his actions were justified.
In 1940 Winston Churchill sat in his bunker smoking one of those majestic cigars, waiting for news that the first German bombs were decimating London. "Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duty," he said over the radio, "and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth lasts for a thousand years, men will still say, 'This was their finest hour.'" The hour is upon us, Abby. All we can do is wait and see.
[speaking to three recruits while standing at his desk] Now, this is where the brain trust of the entire unit sits. Come on in. Come on in. Please, have a seat. You notice how I've angled my desk here to get a good vantage point of the entire team here. It's very important as an NCIS agent to stay aware.
Also, you are not to touch my computer, my lab equipment, my mp3 player, my Caf-Pow, my desk or Burt my farting hippo without my express written consent.
That's a really good idea! [moves across the lab and retrieves a set of bells from a drawer] I mean, I'm sorry about this. Darren worked out, but I've just had problems with people that have been assigned to my lab. [holds out the bells]
He was trying to kill me, he gave me no choice. That's why I am calling you, to warn you. These people cannot be trusted. It was like the amateur hour out there today.
Mason, you need to come in before you cross a line that you can't come back from.
MMason
I don't have a lot of time so let me be as clear as I can be. There is not a force on this planet that's going to stop me from finding my granddaughter. You have to work within the law. I am a bit more flexible. [Call disconnects]
[Michael Seelus, still wearing his necklace of bells, summons Gibbs to Abby's lab. As they step off the elevator, Seelus jingles, and Gibbs stops in annoyance.]
Oh, no. It's true. Think about it: first you had your little Miami vice, now Prince Albert in a can. Oh, they can't help it. You're just a walking Israeli love machine.
