Chuck Rhoades: Excuse me, sir.
Chuck Rhoades: You didn’t clean up after your dog.
Man: Yeah, I forgot the bag today.
Chuck Rhoades: Oh, I don’t think so because, you know, it’s not just the statutory law, it’s the law of civility, man. And I’ve seen you before. You come out of that building, your dog craps, and you just leave it where it falls.
Man: Why don’t you mind your business?
Chuck Rhoades: This is my business.
Man: Oh, you’re that guy.
Chuck Rhoades: I am that guy.
Man: All right, well, do you have an extra bag?
Chuck Rhoades: No, no. See, I used mine.
Man: Well, I’ll get it next time.
Chuck Rhoades: No, I think you need to get it this time.
Man: Why don’t you let it slide?
Chuck Rhoades: “Let it slide.” That sounds simple, easy. Sure, let it slide. That’s just some dog shit. But those are three devious little words. You know, if if I let your dog shit slide, then I have to be okay with this whole plaza filling up with it, which it would before we know it. Oh, then it would be on our pant legs and our shoes, and we would track it into our homes, and then our homes would smell like shit, too. It’d be easy to let it slide. You know, why don’t we, uh, why don’t we let petty larceny slide, too? Some kid steals five bucks from a newsstand? Who cares? Well, maybe next time he decides to steal your TV or break into your brownstone and steal your fucking wife. But what difference does it make? Because by then, we’re all living in shit anyway.