...has perpetrated his last root canal, I'm afraid.
Inherent Vice
16.8s
Man, like, I'm sorry. Denis, what is it this time? That's my steering wheel? - I don't know how to drive. - Aw, man, I thought you said you... Hey. Smile Maintenance Chick. How lovely. Miss Fenway may appear a little psychotic today. Groovy.
Inherent Vice
19.6s
Huh? Uh... Cop friendly, everything cool with your ride? Brake lights, license plate, so forth? A-okay. Mind if I tag along with you guys? Contingencies of the road and so forth? That's a good idea. Maybe we should do more of that, tsk, tsk, for the road? Yes. Yeah. You want some? Excuse me. Come on.
Inherent Vice
24.6s
Interesting fellow, I hear. Sheriff's people ran into him at the Venice home... ...of the dealer that sold Harlingen the smack that killed him. Or didn't kill him. Wait, so, what was Puck doing at Coy's dealer's place? The interesting thing about this overdose... ...is that Leonard James Loosemeat a.k.a. El Drano... ...was known for this 3 percent product... ...yet the report says what killed him was pure China White Number Four.
Inherent Vice
14.1s
You didn't happen to get the, uh, SID to test those neck punctures for gold or nothing? I shouldn't think there'd be much trace. Gold is all but chemically inactive, as you might have learned in chemistry class... ...if you hadn't been ditching all the time to score dope, Sportello.
Inherent Vice
23.9s
Every contact leaves traces. It would sure be ironic, is all I'm saying... ...if Blatnoyd was bit to death by a golden fang... ...or, like, even better, like, two golden fangs? I don't see why any of this would be material. Because it's the Golden Fang. - It's the decedent's tax shelter. So, what? - No, man, it's not a tax shelter. It's something, Bigfoot, man, much more, more vast.
Inherent Vice
6.2s
Okay? Because Blatnoyd was a partner in a tax dodge... ...that calls itself The Golden Fang Enterprises.