Kolchak: The Night Stalker

Kolchak: (opening monologue) There are sections of Chicago the guidebooks don't refer to. You can't blame them, really. The guidebooks' function is to sell the glamour and excitement of our Windy City, and whichever way you dress it up, old age is neither glamorous, nor exciting. Roosevelt Heights used to be a plush neighborhood, but the plush neighbors moved uptown, leaving the old people. And old people don't move easily; they become set in their surroundings. Their friends live next door, they've been going to the same store for twenty-five years, and probably most important of all, they can't afford to relocate even if they wanted to. The battle of fixed income versus galloping inflation never ends. But even inflation took a backseat here in Roosevelt Heights, as a far greater fear overtook the residents, a terror which effectively dwarfed everything else.

Kolchak: The rakshasa have magical powers. They seduce the victim to death by taking on the image of someone the victim trusts. Vincenzo: And poor Harry Starman…he trusted you? Obviously he never hadda depend on you to come up with a cogent story – something that'll turn a profit!

Lane Merriott: Well, the rakshasa is a disciple of Ravana. Ravana, whose teeth were so horrible they stopped the sun and the moon in their course. Kolchak: You know, I had a date with a girl in college just like that once. Lane Merriott: Mr. Kolchak! I value my time. If it's your intention merely to be a music hall wag, please state so.

Kolchak: I'm trying to find out something about a creature named a raka…rakashusi…rakalaki…rakasomething. I didn't hear it too well. Lane Merriott: There are a plethora of Indian words beginning with those syllables. Kolchak: Well, this "rak" takes pleasure in eating human flesh. Lane Merriott: (nervously, as other customers look around) You're talking about the rakshasa!

(about the old restaurant owner) Waiter: It's crazy. But he's like that. Lemme tell you something. I saw him talking to one of these old neighborhood guys, right? You know what he asks? He asks, does the old guy ever see any of his friends or relatives, hanging around…at night? The old guy tells him all his friends and relatives are dead. So you know what the boss says? The boss says it doesn't make any difference if they're dead or not…does he see them? Now that's crazy, right?

Carl: We all have rats, sir. You should see the one I work for.