In Plain Sight · Season 1
[Shopping inside a large box discount store (like SAM's or Costco)]
You're going to work me with some sob story, try and hustle up a shinny new deal?
I don't do sob stories. You come up with more dough, great. If not, I'll get by.
[picks up an iPhone-like electronic device] In the mean time, here's a cost effective way of becoming completely self involved, oblivious to everyone and everything, a total pro at useless games and a genius at accessing the pointless.
[Leaving Brandi, who has been missing for several episodes now, a message on her cell phone]
Hey Brandi, this is the last message I'm leaving you. If you don't call me back in 24 hours, I'm telling the police you died, having your funeral, selling everything you own and if you ever show up again, I'm having you arrested for identity theft.
Give me a break, Marshall, honestly.
One break coming up. [pulls out a box of donuts and coffee]
The Donut Hut? What did you do?
Eat first.
Don't sugar-manage me.
You should have no problem remaining surly as you masticate. Lois Turner stopped by after your house call. She wants a divorce.
She's not married, and don't say masticate.
Hey!
Jesus! It's like being haunted. How in the hell did you find me?
ESP. All the ladies have it these days. A lot's changed since you went in, Frank. Now women have the power to read men's thoughts.
[chuckles] Always did. Everybody was always just too polite to talk about it.
[voiceover] We love what we love. For some people it's a first grade crush. For others it's a Big Wheel, the wrong guy, or the New York Mets. For some of us, it's something unreachable, something we've maybe never had before, and we know that even if we reach it, even if we pull it close and make it ours, it won't last. It can't. But we keep on, because it doesn't matter if it's a Big Wheel, wrong guy, or the New York Mets, it doesn't matter what we reach for, what matters is the reaching.
[voiceover] When I was seventeen it was a not so very good year. I married a guy named Mark who was twenty-two. The whole thing lasted thirty-six hours. Seventeen, twenty-two, thirty-six. It didn't add up. It's hard to believe there was a version of me capable of diving head first into the shallow end like that. These days a guy buying me a drink kicks off an internal debate long enough to put my thirty-six hour marriage, however redundantly, to shame. After which, he's moved on to someone else. Someone who is both presumably sane and thirsty.
FBI just snagged a big fish: Natalie Vickers, key player and co-conspirator in an interstate mortgage scam.
Oh, interstate mortgages. That gets me seriously hot. Say it again. Slower.
You going to be okay?
Yeah, fine. It's fine. Go!
You sure?
Yes! Marshall, whatever little stupid Nora Ephron you have playing in your head about me and Faber's snappy workplace love connection, you can.
It's less Nora Ephron and more Leni Riefenstahl.
Whatever. Hit the off switch.
Well, this is where normal people say goodbye, I'll call you, be careful.
You owe me nine dollars for lunch last week, so don't get shot and die.
[smiles] I'll do my best.
Okay, here's the thing, Natalie. Sooner or later this case falls apart because of you, and when it does all those Russians you turned on will be back on the street with nothing between you and them but a motel door and their urge to kick it in. And when they kill you it will have zero impact on my day. Sleep tight.
[voiceover] I think about my short, impulsive teenage marriage more than I care to admit. When I was with Raph it would run on a loop, mocking me in bed every now and then. At the moment right when the lights go out. A continual reminder that when it comes to what Pat Benatar aptly called a battlefield, I should probably be locked in a cage during off hours, for my own good and that of unsuspecting suitors bearing gifts.
[voiceover] "Father Figure" is a phrase as potent as "Mother Nature". Say that out loud and the image flow from having a catch on the side of the yard, the screen doors slamming behind the deadbeat dad. For every "father knows best", in Atticus Finch, there's a Great Santini bouncing a ball at the head of his teenage son. One thing for sure the father figure, in your face or out the door, would make his presence felt. Like it or not.
Everything matters. Everything you think, feel, but most of all every thing you do it all counts.
I find your almost girlish delight disturbing on many levels.
Come on! It's five days without your standard, whiney, moping witness crap. It's back to basics: hunt, bust, cuff, haul! Then there's the icing on the cake: him. [looks at Marshall's father, Deputy Marshal Seth Mann]
You've now crossed over to sadistic glee.
Are you nervous?
No!
You should be. I'm about to find out so many embarrassing hilarious new secrets, I'm going to have to alphabetize them.
I honestly fear for the state of your soul. [stands as his dad approaches]
Marshall.
Dad.
[sighs] Heaven.
So, you seeing anyone?
There are a few prospects.
[laughs]
Mary doesn't know about them because I try not to subject people I care about to what I euphemistically refer to as her winning abrasiveness.
Look, Seth, Marshall's social life is a contradiction in terms, unless you count putting a bookstore clerk in a headlock and telling her about Nietzschean themes in Wagnerian opera.
She was interested!
[pats his shoulder] Shhh. [to Seth] There's so much I want to know. Who was Marshall's first celebrity crush? How old was he when he went to his first Star Trek convention? And when did he start using a curling iron?
How old were you when you first wondered if you were adopted?
Four. I did the saliva strip test at eight. Sadly...[shakes head]
These quotes come from Wikiquote's In Plain Sight pages and are available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.
