Pete Martell: She's dead! Wrapped in plastic! Pete Martell: She's dead! Wrapped in plastic. Benjamin Horne: If you'll permit me, Sven, to repeat what you told me this morning after your run: "My air sacks have never felt so good." FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: Diane, 11:30 a.m., February Twenty-fourth. Entering the town of Twin Peaks, five miles south of the Canadian border, twelve miles west of the state line. I've never seen so many trees in my life. As W. C. Fields would say, I'd rather be here than Philadelphia. Fifty-four degrees on a slightly overcast day. Weatherman said rain. If you could get paid that kind of money for being wrong sixty percent of the time, it'd beat working. Mileage is seventy-nine thousand three hundred forty-five, gauge is on reserve, riding on fumes here, I've got to tank up when I get into town. Remind me to tell you how much that is. Lunch was, uh, six dollars and thirty-one cents at the Lamplighter Inn, that's on Highway Two near Lewis Fork. That was a tuna fish sandwich on whole wheat, slice of cherry pie, and a cup of coffee. Damn good food. Diane, if you ever get up this way that cherry pie is worth a stop. Okay. Looks like I'll be meeting up with the, ah, Sheriff Harry S. Truman. Shouldn't be too hard to remember that. He'll be at the Calhoun Memorial Hospital. I guess we're going to go up to intensive care and take a look at that girl that crawled down the railroad tracks off the mountain. When I finish there I'll be checking into a motel. I'm sure the sheriff will be able to recommend a clean place, reasonably priced. That's what I need, a clean place, reasonably priced. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: Oh Diane, I almost forgot. Got to find out what kind of trees these are. They're really something. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: Sheriff, what kind of fantastic trees have you got growing around here? Big, majestic. Sheriff Harry S. Truman: Douglas firs. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: [Marveling] Douglas firs... Sven Jorgenson: Excuse me, is there something wrong, young pretty girl? Audrey Horne: They found my friend Laura... lying facedown on a rocky beach... completely naked. She'd been murdered. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: Who's the babe? Sheriff Harry S. Truman: That is one of the most beautiful women in the state, Mrs. Packard. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: Packard Sawmill? Sheriff Harry S. Truman: Yep. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: Where's Mr. Packard? Sheriff Harry S. Truman: Died in a boating accident last year. Andrew Packard practically built this town. Brought her over from Hong Kong six years ago. Left her everything, which didn't exactly please his sister. That's her right there. The original deep freeze. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: Who's the glad-handing dandy? Sheriff Harry S. Truman: Benjamin Horne, local big wig, he owns half the town. He's not after her, he's after her land. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper:
Who's the lady with the log?
Sheriff Harry S. Truman: We call her the log lady. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: I will remind you that these crimes occurred at night. Dr. Will Hayward: [He sees Bobby Briggs pretending to surf on the hood of his car with a beer in hand] You're not drinking and driving, are you? Mike 'Snake' Nelson: Well we're, uh, all pretty broken up about what happened today, sir. Besides, Bobby is doing most of the driving. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: You know why I'm whittling? Sheriff Harry S. Truman: Okay, I'll, I'll bite again. Why are you whittling? FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: Because that's what you do in a town where a yellow light still means slow down, not speed up. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: Sheriff, that reminds me. Can you recommend to me a good, inexpensive hotel or motel? Now it doesn't have to be fancy and I mean that. Sheriff Harry S. Truman: I can get you a good rate up at the Great Northern. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: Because you know, I think I'm going to be here for some time, and these motels, they'll promise you a good rate and when you get there it's a whole different story. Now all I need is a bed, a bathroom, a telephone, and sometimes a television in the unlikely event that one day I'll get a chance to knock off early. Sheriff Harry S. Truman: I can get you a good rate up at the Great Northern. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: Sold. Well, tomorrow comes early. Bobby Briggs: [to James Hurley] When you least expect it... [He and Mike Nelson bark and howl] FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: [He sees the Log Lady seated nearby, cradling her log and drinking coffee] Log Lady. Sheriff Harry S. Truman: Right. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: [He waves to her] Hi. [She looks away] FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper: Can I ask her about her log? Sheriff Harry S. Truman: Many have. Cooper: Harry, I'm going to let you in on a little secret: every day, once a day, give yourself a present. Don't plan it; don't wait for it; just let it happen. It could be a new shirt in a men's store, a catnap in your office chair, or two cups of good, hot, black, coffee. Harry Truman: Do you think they spotted us? Cooper: Give me a donut. Cooper: Gentlemen. When two separate evens occur simultaneously pertaining to the same object in inquiry we must always pay strict attention. Deputy Andy Brennan: