[Monk is STILL scrubbing his hands the morning after he first meets Derek Bronson]
No, I mean, is there any more soap in San Francisco?
Mr. Monk, you’ve been scrubbing your hand for nine hours! I’m surprised you have any skin left!
It’s not coming out. I can still feel it. I think it’s spreading. [Pulls out a can from under the sink]
What are you doing? Is that kerosene?! [Monk douses his hand and tosses a match to Natalie]
For the love of God, light me!
Okay, Mr. Monk, I’m not gonna light your hand on fire!
Fine. [Monk goes over to the stove, puts his left hand over his eyes, and screams as he tries to put his hand into a boiling pot. Natalie stops him]
You know what? You know what? Get away! You are overreacting, all right! All you did was shake a man’s hand!
You’re right. You know what? I’m glad it happened. The worst possible thing that could ever happen to me has happened. I shook hands with a leper, and I survived.
The worst moment of my life is behind me now. [Wipes his hand] I’m free. Wait. [Rotates a pot handle in his cabinet] Okay, now, I’m free.
Actually, Mr. Monk, it’s not completely over. Don’t be mad, but I talked to Mr. Bronson.
He called here this morning.
The leper! He called me? On what phone? On this phone?! [Points to the kitchen phone]
Yes. [Monk pulls a roll of paper towel, wraps the phone in it, and puts it in the trash] Mr. Monk, you can’t catch anything over the phone!
Oh, oh, oh, hang on. Now all of a sudden, you’re an expert on lepers?!
Okay, you know? Mr. Monk, he’s a nice man, all right? He’s in pain! He was crying his eyes out and…okay, listen to me. He upped his offer: he said he would pay you $25,000. All you have to do is meet him again!
Natalie, listen. Let me explain something to you: No!
That’s it? That’s your argument?
Okay, let’s go through it. A: whatever he’s asking us to do is probably illegal. "B" through "Z": the man is a leper!
You know what, I don’t know anything about leprosy, and neither do you. So, I called a doctor. He’s a specialist. He said we could come in, and talk with him. Let’s just see what he recommends, okay? I mean, it can’t hurt to listen, right? $25,000!
“Wife claims missing billionaire husband still alive. Probate hearing is set for tomorrow. Former homicide detective Adrian Monk is set to testify.” What the hell is Hansen’s Disease?
LDLt. Disher
I thought they lived in colonies, you know, like in Ben Hur.
And, uh, you met this guy face to face?
Yep. He’s a client, and he called us. He needed our help. Mr. Monk put aside all his fear and prejudice, and offered to do what he could, and I am very, very proud of him.
I shook his hand. I can still feel it!
He’s not at all contagious. We talked to a specialist. Randy, I think you might know him. Dr. Polanski?
Really? Because we thought we saw your picture hanging up in his office.
LDLt. Disher
Right. It was a case. I was undercover, posing as a kid, a teenager with bad acne. Captain, you remember that case?
You’re on your own, Randy.
Well, I’ll tell him you said hi. We’re going out tomorrow night.
[Monk realizes he was conned about a supposed leper]
[Giggles] Was he magically delicious?
[Natalie bursts in, having come back from her date with Dr. Polanski]
Okay, thanks, I'll talk to you later! Bye! [She immediately runs to the sink and turns on the faucet, drinking directly from the flexible tap] Hotter! I need it hotter!
It was great! Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart, I need you to do me something: I need you to go upstairs and fill the bathtub with Listerine! Go-go-go-go-go! [Soon, Monk and Natalie are speaking simultaneously]
I’ve gotta tell you something!
We’ve been duped! Are you ready for this?
I’ve been duped! Okay, you’re not gonna believe this!
...He’s a leper! Oh God! [Struggles to get a bottle of soap open]
[During the probate hearing]
NSNephew's Lawyer
Mr. Monk, is this the man you saw? [Shows Monk a photo of a younger Derek Bronson]
NSNephew's Lawyer
According to your testimony, you only saw him in a dimly lit bar and a parking garage. Hardly ideal conditions.
JLJudge Lawrence Barr
Well, Mr. Bronson’s nephews have been waiting a long time for this estate to be probated. I am reluctant to make a decision based on one man’s testimony.
MSMandy's Lawyer
Your Honor, Adrian Monk is not just anyone. His memory and powers of observation are legendary.
JLJudge Lawrence Barr
Well, there’s a lot at stake here. You say he has a great memory. Mr. Monk? Would you mind standing up and turning around? [Monk stands up and turns around] Could you describe my shirt?
JLJudge Lawrence Barr
"Which one?"
The shirt you're wearing, or the shirt that your stenographer is wearing? That's your shirt, too, isn't it? You cut yourself shaving - there's a little drop of blood on her collar.
JLJudge Lawrence Barr
What are you implying?
You were having a sex affair with her on that couch. The cushions are backwards and one of her earrings fell off. So, it’s right here. Under here. [He walks over to the couch, and picks up the earring in question with his tweezers] She must have torn her blouse. I can see it sticking out of her briefcase.
JLJudge Lawrence Barr
I’m ready with my decision. I will accept Mr. Monk’s word that he met with Derek Bronson. Therefore, Mrs. Bronson will retain control of the entire estate.
[Monk is in session with Dr. Kroger; he hands Dr. Kroger a handout]
“Police Announce Hiring Freeze”.
A hiring freeze, for the next four years! By then, I’ll be too old to be reinstated! So, that’s it: I’ll never be a cop again!
All right, Adrian. I am truly sorry. I know how much reinstatement means to you.
Only everything! It was my reason for living. That’s all. What do I do now?
I think you go back to what you’ve been doing. Consulting.
For how long? I haven’t had a new client in weeks! The department hasn’t renewed my contract!
You know, Adrian, I think this is an opportunity for you to make a decision. A very important decision. Now, you can let this news completely depress you.
Or, you can look at this like an opportunity. A chance for you to reassess your life. Start over. Do something completely different.
Yeah...'different' can be good.
[Unconvinced] Different. Good... [whispers to self] Different? Good? [Pause]
Adrian, it's not too late, you know Winston Churchill did not become prime minister until he was sixty!
What are you talking about? I'll never become prime minister!
I don't even live in England; even if I did I, I'd be such a long shot-
Adrian! It’s just an example.
[Monk and Natalie check out the crash scene]
Well this section of the guardrail is new. It must have happened right here. The car was heading west, went off the road here.
So you were right, she couldn’t have hit that rock.
[Sighs] It’s hard to tell without seeing the police report. Maybe…maybe the car flipped over! Maybe it spun around.
No, I think he did it! I think he killed his parents!
You really don’t like this guy, do you? What did he ever do to you?
No. [Becomes distracted by croaking] What is that noise?
Oh, frogs. They live in that pond over there. It’s mating season. They go crazy every year. [A frog hops out of the bushes]
I don't know; I've never been this close to one. [A frog hops on his shoe] Yes, the answer is yes. Put frogs on the list. Where's the list?
[Monk is looking around the Buchanans' garage]
MMechanic
[Spots Monk] Can I help you? What the hell are you doing?
MMechanic
Are you here for the job interview?
[Improvising] Yes. The interview. Exactly.
MMechanic
Follow me. He’s been waiting for you.
[Cuts to Monk in the living room. Paul Buchanan comes in with a shotgun]
Sorry for the delay. [Shows shotgun] This is in case the interview doesn't go well. Just joking; I was just doing a little hunting. [Sets his shotgun down and pours himself a drink] All right, so you're here from the agency. Where's your resume?
You lost your resume? Well that doesn't bode well, does it? What's your name?
Adrian? [Monk notices a copy of the book Moby-Dick by Herman Melville lying on a table]
Melville. Adrian Melville. [Paul notices the cleanliness of the room]
What's with this place? I had friends over last night; the place was a mess.
While I was waiting, I sort of tidied up.
I'm impressed. Very well done, Adrian Melville.
Did you do this? [Points to a finished jigsaw puzzle of a city skyline with a rainbow over it on another table]
Yes, sorry, I couldn't help myself.
What, in 20 minutes? I've been working on this puzzle for a month!
Sorry, I’ll mess it up again. I think I remember exactly how... [reaches forward, trying to restore the puzzle to the wya he found it]
No...! (5x) I’ve got a couple of stepsisters who think I never finish anything. Well, come on. Sit down. [They sit down in two adjacent chairs] Tell me, Melville. Who have you worked for? Anybody I know?
Mmm... I don’t think so. Leland Stottlemeyer of the San Francisco.... Stottlemeyers. Randy Disher. Dr. Charles Kroger....
Natalie? Really? She grew up right down the street. I went to school with her when she was still Natalie Davenport. She had a big crush on me. Wouldn’t leave me alone.
How does she look? Does she still have that tattoo? [Monk stands up, shocked]
Well, I guess you wouldn’t have seen it. Not where she put it. [Gets up] Look, I’m having a big luncheon on Sunday. A bunch of the old fossils from the family foundation. Do you think Natalie would show up? It’d make the afternoon a lot better.
I don’t think... [Paul gives him a "yes or no?" look] Maybe.
Well, Adrian Melville, I go with my gut. And my gut likes what it sees. If Natalie Teeger recommends you, that’s good enough for me. Congratulations. You’re my new butler.
Yeah. Come on. I’ll show you around. Your room’s upstairs. Grab that drink. [Monk grabs the tray off the table]
[Paul Buchanan finishes looking at the completed luncheon table that Monk has carefully organized and straightened out]
Well I don't have to remind you about how important these stupid luncheons are! The old bats are gunning for me. They want me to screw up, they expect me to screw up! And I intend- to dissapoint them. Mr. Melville.
[Standing in front of a covered canvas] Thank you. Mr. Pepperidge? [Mr. Pepperidge pulls the tarp off the canvas, revealing a color coded map of the house] I've divided the house into four zones.
SMSusie the Maid
Mr. Stilson normally has us start in the kitchen.
[Retracts his pointer] Mr. Stilson is no longer with us. So from now on we're going to be cleaning the house my way: the Monk way.
SMSusie the Maid
Who's Monk?
[Long pause] You see... I grew up in a monastery. And the monks, were very demanding. We were cleaning constantly, 18 hours a day. Mostly dusting. It was very dusty. Crypts, catacombs, it was holy dust. But still... you know... dust. And that is the Monk way.
Well you heard the man. We'll be doing it the Monk way.
[Paul leads Natalie away from the other hunters]
All right. Give me the page!
My father’s journal! You stole a page, give it to me! [Natalie hands Paul the signout sheet page she took from the garage. He tosses her a hunting vest] Put it on!
There’s gonna be an accident. I told you. It happens all the time.
[Monk runs into Paul's hunting buddies and grabs one of their shotguns]
Paul, you just…you can’t do this!
Oh, I can’t? Look up there. See that well? Two weeks ago, I shot my butler, and dropped his body in it! [Pumps the shotgun] You should’ve gone with me to the prom, Natty! [Monk shows up, weapon in hand]
Buchanan! Lower the weapon!
Just lower it! [Fires at the trees, killing a bird]
Well, you’re fired. That goes without saying. [Natalie uses the opportunity to grab the sheet and shotgun from Paul]
Mr. Monk, look, his father kept a journal. He came back before he died.
That makes sense. It all makes sense now.
[Monk and Natalie enter the studio]
Hello, there. Yeah. Who is this?
This is Natalie. She’s my assistant.
I think I need a little assistance.
I think I need some assistance!
Give a little twirl, Natalie.
[As a small sound effect plays on J.J.'s computer] "No, thank you." Okay, she’s feisty! She’s brassy, she’s sassy, she’s got gusto!
Sassy, brassy, but she won’t show her...
I like it! Doing the neck crank. You can’t see it, ladies and gentlemen. Yeah, I talked to this guy last night. He wants to talk to me about what happened to Jeanette.
Why don’t we talk about that after the show?
You don’t get it, sugarbumps: here is the show. My life is the show. Detective, why don’t you have a seat, please? Somebody give him some headphones, please.
[J.J. hands Monk a set of headphones]
[Snaps his fingers in Natalie's direction] Wipe. Wipe. Wipe. Wipe. Wipe.
[J.J. records and plays Monk's voice back. Monk wipes down his headset]
Okay, folks, you've got to see this. Uh, first of all, his shirt is buttoned up to his eyeballs, and he’s swabbing out his headphones with a baby wipe.
This is not a baby wipe. This is…this is an adult wipe.
You've gotta know the difference.
Hey, Adrian, let me ask you something. When you go to a crime scene, do you take a police car or a short yellow bus? [Max claps happily with approval]
Mr. Monk, you don’t have to answer that.
No, no, I’ll be happy to. I’ll be happy to answer that. Natalie drives me.
Oh, I bet she does. [J.J. plays a sexy woman’s sound. Natalie glares at them, mortified] She’s driving me, baby.
I want to change your tires.
[Monk puts a wipe over his microphone, causing static feedback in the jockeys' headsets]
MJMax, J.J. and Little Willie
Ow! Ow!
JJJ.J. and Little Willie
Ow! Oooh!
This guy’s great. He’s possessed.
[Raises fist] Yo, Adrian!
[The jockeys burst out laughing, until Max signals for them to stop]
Okay, we just lost a third of our audience. All righty, then! So, just for the record, you’re here because of my sister-in-law?
That’s right, Loony Linda, who thinks I murdered my wife. Isn’t that charming?
Adrian, I thought you’d like to know that the last guy who wore those headphones had head lice.
[Monk immediately throws off his headset and runs out of the studio]
Wipe! Wipe! Wipe! Wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe!
RMRadio men
Wipe! Wipe! Wipe! Wipe! Wipe! Wipe! Wipe!
[Monk grabs Natalie's purse as he leaves]
You should be ashamed of yourselves!
I agree, I should be. But I’m not! [She walks out of the booth]
Oh! And there, we’ve got the view. [Natalie turns around to cast a disgusted look at them before closing the door]
There she goes. She gave us a twirl.
I do too, at least I hope he is.
Max Hudson, the jerk on the radio?
According to her sister, his wife had recently started taking sleeping pills, 30 milligrams.
Which is the maximum dosage.
And it was Max's suggestion.
He called the doctor personally to get the prescription!
Here's what happened: Max is out of town, it's a perfect alibi. He knows his wife will be taking those pills, so she's out cold. [In the background, Randy is trying to contain his laughter]
[Glares at Randy] Is something funny?
He knows his wife won't be waking up, so he has one of his guys-
Randy? Do you wanna share it with the rest of the class?
Sorry. I heard you on the show. You really got zung!
[Offended] Oh my God, you listen to that creep?!
LDLt. Disher
I think he’s gray... ting. It’s grating.... [starts to stammer] Degrading. Degrading to women. I keep listening, hoping he’ll grow up, but he never does.
[Max Hudson comes home to find the police outside his house and Randy on the front driveway]
What, uh... what’s going on?
Well I could tell you, but Adrian Monk wants to tell you himself. He’s upstairs. After you. [Cuts to Max entering the bedroom, where Monk, Natalie, Linda Riggs, and Stottlemeyer are waiting for him]
Linda? Uh-huh. I don’t know the legal definition of harassment, but this is pretty close. [Stottlemeyer hands Max a paper]
Mr. Hudson, that’s a search warrant. You’ve been duly served.
Ah, sure, okay. Knock yourself out. You’re just embarrass yourselves, again.
It’s over, Max. We know how you did it. We know what you were doing every day at 2:00 PM.
That’s right, I was. I was house sitting. I was watering their plants.
Nah, you were training their dog.
We replayed the tape of the show you made the morning your wife died. That was the day you introduced your new catchphrase, “Jangle my tenders.”
LDLt. Disher
“Jiggle me timbers," sir.
LDLt. Disher
You never said it before that day or since. I’m a big fan. Well, I was. Unless you’re not guilty, in which case, we’re all really sorry about all this. Although, I’m pretty sure you’re guilty. But if you’re not, I’m sorry.
Well, it’s easy enough to prove. [Picks up a walkie-talkie and speaks into it] Let’s do it.
[Cuts to a police officer talking to the next door neighbor while carrying a portable radio. He presses play]
[On tape] ...Friday and, by the way, I saw it last night. Jiggle me timbers! [The dog takes off and darts through the dividing hedge]
[On tape] Hey Max, where did you get that? “Jiggle me timbers”…
