No, it makes sense. In some dark, gloomy, Russian type of way.

Jackie: It was either St. Anne's tartan plaid or a chastity belt.
Danny: I'm guessing by the age of her daughter it wasn't the chastity belt that she chose

I was getting ready to call in a missing persons on you. No worries. Victim's still dead.

Danny: We just took a statement from a 6'4" transsexual escort who thinks her Labradoodle was dognapped by her Shrink. How could I not be having fun right now? I'm telling you Jack, they can keep Central Park and Times Square. This is the New York that I love. The one you never see on a post card.
Jackie: Now there's an untapped market, tranihooker postcards.

Danny: What did you tell her, Mom? That all of us cops are stupid and you're such a genius?
Erin: Yeah, basically.

Father: The Lord handles surveillance here at St. Angelus.
Danny: Well, you've got me on that one, Father.

Hey Dad. The Batmobile just showed up.