Will is driving through a poor, rundown neighbourhood. At a stop sign, he finds himself in front of a house that clearly seems to be inhabited by a drug dealer, given the coming and going of apparent strangers, not to mention the rap music -- the only thing drug dealers listen to since the early '80s. He writes down the address.

At work, he gives the address to Toni and tells her there's a crack house operating there and to check it out. She says she knows that house, and the DEA's been operating on it undercover for two years. Will: "Two years? What are they waiting for -- permission from God?" Toni: "Waiting to bag the whales." Will: "All they got now are the guppies." Come on -- they've watched a crack house for two years? Doesn't that strain credulity a little? He says the citizens in that neighbourhood shouldn't have to put up with a crack house for one more day. Toni says, "Preaching to the choir." Will says, "Get a warrant."