Lethal Weapon

Surprise! Surprise!

Happy birthday.

Make a wish!

I wish...

- I'm not gon' tell you. - Oh, come on.

Blow 'em out! Yay!

Oh, honey, happy birthday.

Gimme sugar.

Give me some sugar, girl.

One more candle and the smoke alarm would've gone off.

Big 5-0.

You know what? Your beard's getting gray.

Kind of makes you look old.

But that's all right, though. 'Cause I still love ya.

Bye, Pa.

Send the postcard to: Contestants, Family Feud,

that's in Hollywood, California.

That's nine, double 0, two, eight. Thank you.

Government standards would allow me

to call this a Grade-A chicken, but my standards wouldn't.

It's skinny, it has scrapes and hairs.

The fact is, my graders reject 30% of the chickens

government graders accept as Grade-A.

That's why it pays to insist on a chicken with my name on it.

If you're not completely satisfied,

write me, and I'll give you your money back.

Who do you... What do they know about chickens?

- Two answers remain. Jan? - Cook.

- Cook! Say cook! - Cook, cook, cook.

Well. Cook.

Sal, big lead. If not, they're even game.

Cook!

- Morning. Hi, Mrs. Murtaugh. - Hi.

- Morning, troops. - Where's Rianne?

- She's upstairs. - Okay.

- Good morning. - Good morning.

- Aha! - Hey, that's my bacon.

Well, it's mine now.

Hey, don't you close doors around here?

Baby, what's this on my tie?

That is an ugly spot.

Thanks. Sharp as a tack.

I'm thinking of going on Jeopardy.

All right. Just don't take any questions about cooking.

Don't step in the egg!

Where's my thinking? I should have checked the floor for egg!

Honey.

Do you know a man named, uh, Michael Hunsaker?

Michael Hunsaker?

Jesus! Michael Hunsaker.

- What did he want? - Your office called.

He's been trying to reach you for three days now.

I haven't talked to him in...

...twelve years!

Huh. Well, no, wait a minute.

That would make me...

Fifty!

So that means that you're...

We're not gonna discuss that.

- Forget the eggs. - Okay.

- Roger? - Yeah, baby?

How come I never heard of Michael Hunsaker?

Uh, I just never talked about him, huh.

- Hmm. - Vietnam buddy?

Uh, yeah.

Hey, eat your own cake. Vietnam buddy.

- Daddy? - Yeah, baby?

Nick and the kids left without me.

He left without you?

Come on, I never get enough of my baby.

Daddy, this is my New Year's Eve dress. Don't you like it? Isn't it cool?

- It's beautiful. - Thanks.

Have a good birthday.

Goddamn heartbreaker.

Hey. A lot of people think this is the Super Bowl.

I know they're wrong. You know they're wrong. Ready when you are.

Asking you how much would you expect to pay for something like this?

Well, you'd be wrong... ...offer you a Super Bowl offer.

A Super Bowl value on selected items. But wait, there's more.

How much would you expect to pay for something like this?

I'll buy you a new one.

Perfect. Happy fiftieth, Rog.

All units, 14-N-35, shooting in progress.

Venice Beach, Washington and Navy. Three down.

RA en route...

4-King-3-2, en route to the sniper call.

Everybody down!

Get down!

Look who's here.

Get outta here!

What do you got here?

- Sniper, sir. - Yeah, but what's he doing?

Shooting kids. One officer's down.

The guy's a nightmare, sir.

They're still inside and we can't get to him.

You got SWAT team coming in?

- No ETA. - Yeah?

Well, I'll see you around.

Let me through! Let me through!

- Paramedics! - What about the other children?

Nine years old.

Nine?

- How good a shot is this guy? - What do you mean?

I mean does he shoot at random? Does he shoot specific kids, um...

- He missed one. - He shot at random.

- You make the weapon? - Automatic and loud.

Hostages or anything like that up there?

- Not that we know of. - Okay.

- Hey. - Where you going?

Riggs!

Get the hell back here.

Riggs!

Get down! You're in the line of fire. Get down.

What are you, crazy?

Get outta here!

Hello?

Mr. Sniper, sir.

Get away!

I'm still here, asshole.

Or do you only do kids?

Shut up!

Hold, hold!

Clear the area!

You're one psycho son of a bitch, but you're good.

We got a 10-41, we have a drunk,

white female, approximately 5 feet tall,

350 pounds, at Three Clubs Bar, Vine and Melrose. Drunk...

Happy birthday, Rog!

Unit 27 responding, 10-31, family fight in...

- Lay off me. - ...you've got a spot on your tie.

What do we got here?

Oh, we got a, uh, hooker.

No, it's Dixie. Would you please tell these bozos to lay off, please?

Hey, hey, you bozos, lay off.

Had a jumper here last night. Dixie was walking by, saw the whole thing.

You got a statement from her, send her home.

Oh, thanks. I'm beat. You know how it is.

Yeah, sure.

All dressed up and no one to blow.

You're hilarious! I can't believe you damn cops!

Uh, the jumper's name is Amanda Hunsaker.

Age 22, prostitute.

Let's see: One arrest, no convictions. Born in Tennessee.

- Parents... - Wh-What was the name?

- Hunsaker. - Yeah, yeah. The parents.

Oh, parents.

- Michael and Claire. - Claire.

You know 'em?

Right. Find out who bought it, who's... who's paying the bills.

That'll take some looking into.

So look!

Yeah.

- Hello, honey. - Hi, honey.

Yeah. Give me the number for Michael Hunsaker.

- The man we talked about? - What?

- Your Vietnam buddy? - Yeah, yeah.

- You just mentioned him this morning. - What's wrong?

- His daughter just dove out a window. - Oh, my God. That's terrible.

- Yeah. - 136-1...

I got it.

Hey.

Good, huh? Tasty? Smooth?

Yeah, that's good.

- You better fucking believe it. - Here's your beer, pal.

Thanks. Okay, so let's do it. How much?

How much for how much?

For all of it.

- You want it all? - Yeah.

- He wants it all. - He wants it all, beautiful.

All right! Congratulations.

Maybe a nice six-footer to put it under?

You want a tree?

Yeah.

I'll tell you what.

I'll give you the best tree I got on the lot for nothing.

Hey, thanks.

But the shit's gonna cost you, um...

- A hundred. - What, that much?

Hey, you said you liked it, that's a fair price.

Yeah, yeah. Hell, you only live once.

Get this together here.

Twenty, 40, 50, 70...

- Hey, what the fuck? - Hey, man!

- Eighty-five, 90... - Hey!

Come on, shut up, man, I'm losing count.

Ninety-three, 94, 95, 96...

Forget it, you dumb shit. One hundred thousand!

One hundred thousand dollars!

Did you hear what he said?

A hundred thousand? I...

I'm sorry, I can't afford that. Not on my salary.

But look, I'll tell you what. I got a better idea. Here.

Now, let me say I, uh,

I take the whole stash off your hands for free...

- and you assholes can go to jail. - Oh, hey, whoa.

What do you say about that?

Now, I could read you guys your rights,

but nah, you guys already know what your rights are, don't ya?

This badge ain't real.

And you ain't real.