Some people live for the danger. The adrenaline rush you get when you're backed up against the wall, fighting for your life. The way your heart pounds as bullets scream by, inches from your face. These people need to be put away and kept under heavy sedation. I'm Sock Dolager, Private Dick, and I hate danger. Three years ago, I decided that the police force was too dangerous so I settled into the more mellow world of lost children, adulterous husbands and furniture repossession. You don't get as much time to whittle a good pencil when you're chasing dope fiends. When people walk in to my office, see the sign on door, they think 'Here sits a man who can repair my television set.'

However, when I do change the sign, they'll think 'Here sits a man who can solve my problems. Here sits Sock Dolager.'

Sally: What are you reading?

That's Sally, my assistant, the luckiest girl I know. She won 63 million dollars on her 18th birthday with her first and only lottery ticket. Set for life, she indulged in every creature comfort known to man, and most of the ones known to women. She works for me to stave off boredom.

Sally: Is that a bounty hunting book? Does this mean you're finally gonna get a gun, or will you bring fugitives to justice with your can opener?

Sock: Don't mock my Swiss Army Knife. It's saved my life on numerous occasions.

Sally: You're incorrigible. Oh, I almost forgot, your two-o'clock is here.

Sock: I have a two-o'clock?

Sally: You do now. She's in the lobby. You want her?

Sock: Only professionally, send her in.

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