I'd like to reiterate that this should be a sticky.
But, for some reason, this is all I could think of while reading today's offerings:
crawdaddio: You want answers?
Ziemas: I think I'm entitled to them.
crawdaddio: You want answers?
Ziemas: I want the truth!
crawdaddio: You can't handle the truth! Son, we live in a world that has bicycles. And those bicycles have to be guarded by locks. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Mr. Laforge? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Fahgettaboudit and you curse the wheel lock. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that Kryptonite, while tragic, saves bikes. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves American bikes...You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at work, you want me on that lock patrol. You need me on that lock patrol.
We use words like bolt cutter, pry bar, grinder...we use these words as the backbone to a life spent defending something. You use 'em as a punchline.
I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very security I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it! I'd rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a U-Lock and stand opposed. Either way, I don't give a defeated combo lock what you think you're entitled to!
Ziemas: Did you criticize On Guard locks?
crawdaddio: (quietly) I did the job you sent me to do.
Ziemas: Did you order the On Guard locks?
crawdaddio: You're goll-darn-right I did!!