Steve Dubay looked dimly alarmed. Avarino, who could almost read this hairbag's pussy little mind, suspected he was thinking about his stepfather again. And although Avarino had no liking for Derry's small gay community — like every other cop on the force, he would enjoy seeing the Falcon shut up forever — he would have been delighted to drive Dubay home himself. He would, in fact, have been delighted to hold Dubay's arms while Dubay's stepfather beat the creep to oatmeal. Avarino did not like gays, but this did not mean he believed they should be tortured and murdered. Mellon had been savaged. When they brought him up from under the Canal bridge, his eyes had been open, bulging with terror. And this guy here had absolutely no idea of what he had helped do.
—It
Andy: You ever hear me use that word?
Sylvia: No... But I have seen you do this. [passes hand in front of face]
Andy: That's not the same, that, that's somethin' cops do so you don't have to mention race. "Hey, d'ya hear about the shooting at this barbershop?" "This barbershop?" "Yeah." [passes hand in front of face] Y'know, so it doesn't have to be said and nodody gets offended.
Sylvia: Andy, it's code for the word.
Andy: It's code so you don't have to say it!
[Beat]
Sylvia: Don't ever show that to our child.
Andy: ...Yeah, alright.
Sylvia: Don't teach him that. Don't teach him to think that way.
Andy: Yeah.
—NYPD Blue, "The Backboard Jungle"
