POLICE DETECTIVE: Tell me again.
TERRY: If you'd stop picking your teeth you could hear what I had to say.
POLICE DETECTIVE: We gotta get the facts.
MARTY: What are you doing here? What happened?
TERRY: I told him not to call anybody, but they fished your card out of my pocket.
MARTY: You're wet.
TERRY: Really, Marty? God, you're so perceptive.
POLICE DETECTIVE: You know her?
MARTY: I work with her.
POLICE DETECTIVE: She nuts? We found her screaming, soaking wet, waiving down cars near Battery Park.
MARTY: What happened?
POLICE DETECTIVE: Fell in the river.
TERRY: I told you. I didn't fall in the river, I was thrown.
POLICE DETECTIVE: By your pimp, your john…
TERRY: What is it with you people? Every time you see a black woman it has to be a pimp or a john? What, you think there's a lot of work down on the pier for hookers? You think I'm giving blow jobs down there to goldfish?
POLICE DETECTIVE: Is she on some kind of medication?
MARTY: Not that I know of. (To Terry) You on some kind of medication?
TERRY: Marty! (To police detective) You know, you can talk directly to me asshole.
POLICE DETECTIVE: Watch your mouth.
TERRY: There is a dead man floating around in the river.
MARTY: I think it's time to go home now.
POLICE DETECTIVE: We sent a car down there, lady. Look who I'm calling "lady." We found nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
TERRY: Well, drag the river! There are killers running around the fucking city!
POLICE DETECTIVE: How would you like me to wash your mouth out with a wire brush?
TERRY: How'd you like if I kicked you in the nuts so hard they get lodged in your fucking nostrils?
MARTY: My, that's a vivid image, isn't it? Um, officer, I—look, here's my card. Uh, I'll be responsible for her, I promise you that. Come on.
POLICE DETECTIVE: You better get her to some doctor.
TERRY: There's nothing wrong with me you dumb mother fucker! I told you—
POLICE DETECTIVE: That's the word I don't like. Rosie…
MARTY: (Trying to gag Terry) No, no. Sir! Sir, sir! It's Tourette Syndrome.
POLICE DETECTIVE: Start with disturbing the peace.
MARTY: It's an illness. People can't stop swearing. They don't even know they're doing it. She has it bad. She usually spits. Really, this is sweet talk for her.
TERRY: Son of a bitch!
MARTY: It's Tourette Syndrome.
POLICE DETECTIVE: Look up Tourette Syndrome.
TERRY; …I ever met. What are you, some sort of fucking reject from Barney Miller?
— Jumpin' Jack Flash (1986), screenplay by David Franzoni, Charles Shyer, Nancy Meyers and Chris Thompson, story by David Franzoni
The Daily Dialogue theme for the week: Embarrassment. Today’s suggestion by Will King.
Trivia: According to Penny Marshall in her memoir ‘My Mother Was Nuts’, there were numerous different versions of the script. These include one written by Nancy Meyers & Charles Shyer for when Shelly Long was attached to star, and a version by David Mamet with was filled with profanity.
Dialogue On Dialogue: Commentary by Will: “Marty Phillips ends up caught between an overworked police detective and his co-worker Terry Dolittle who has narrowly escaped being killed. Terrified but unable to convince anybody about what happened to her, Terry becomes desperate and overwrought, and Marty manufactures the Tourette excuse to try to get Terry out of a difficult situation.”