— Sao Feng is dead. He fell to the Flying Dutchman.
— He made you captain? They're just giving the bloody title away now.
— Look at them all.
— There's not been a gathering like this in our lifetime.
— And I owe them all money.
— That was the doorbell. Couldn't you hear it?
— It's in the fridge. It kept ringing.
— Oh, that's not a fault, Sherlock!
— As a matter of fact, I'd... like you to be the boy's godfather.
— I... am honored.
— I... am lying.
Come on man. I know Sam, ok? Better than anyone. He's got more of a conscience than i do. I mean the guy feels guilty searching the internet for porn.
— Now, serviettes... Swan or Sydney Opera House?
— Where did you learn that?
— Many skills are required in the field of criminal investigation.
— Fibbing, Sherlock.
— I once broke an alibi by demonstrating the exact severity of a fold...
— I'm not John, I can tell when you're fibbing.
— OK, I learn it on YouTube.
— I have a diabolical master plan.
— What is it?
— If I told you, it wouldn't be very diabolical, would it?
— May I have the salt?
— What do we say?
— Now.