Don: Well, Dick, this is it. The tank.
Dick: Oh. Oh, look at them, their deep-set eyes darting with evil brilliance. What’d they do, Don?
Don: Well, that one’s a loiterer, and that guy was screaming at a fire hydrant.
Dick: You, fresh meat, what are you in for?
Inmate: Up yours!
Don: Don’t rile ’em up. They’re bad news.
Dick: Oh, this place is so creepy, Don. I knew jails had bars, but I didn’t know they were so confining.
Don: That’s kind of the idea.
Don: So, if he can’t pay his fine, he just – well, he’ll just sit there for a few days and think about what he’s done.
Dick: And that’ll teach him that jail is a dirty, horrible place, and he’ll never want to return?
Don: Exactly. In fact, this is the fifth time he’s learned that very lesson.
Dick: The fifth time? Why does he keep coming back?
Don: Ah, it’s just the way they are.
Dick: Then what’s the point of this place? It’s just a revolving door, a hopeless hotel whose residents check in and out between crimes. And you, Don, you’re nothing more than a bellhop with a badge.
Don: I am not.
Inmate: Hey, can I get a clean towel and a Wall Street Journal?
Don: Will you shut up in there! Now, listen here, Dick, this system is the only way we’ve got to teach these guys a lesson.
Dick: What about giving them a little guidance?
Don: Uh, we don’t do that here.
Dick: Well, maybe you should. Unlike you, I happen to have faith in the human race. I can take any one of these men, rehabilitate him, and make him a productive member of society.
Don: You’re mad, Solomon.
Dick: Am I? Come on, you, you’re coming home with me.
Don: What are you doing?
Dick: I’m going to pay his fine and make him whole again. As god is my witness, nothing will deter me from saving this man.
Don: Ok. His fine is $1,500.
Dick: Ooh. How much for the skinny one?
Don: Uh, 750.
Dick: And the short hair in the corner?
Don: Eddie? 100 bucks.
Dick: Wrap him up. I’ll take him.
– Bonnie Turner, Terry Turner: 3rd Rock from the Sun (1996-2001)