BARTLET: C.J. Cregg was getting threats so we put an agent on her. He’s a good guy. He was on my detail for a while, and he was in Rosslyn. He walked in the middle of an armed robbery, and was shot and killed after detaining one of the suspects.
RITCHIE: Oh. Crime. Boy, I don’t know.
BARTLET: We should have a great debate, Rob. We owe it to everyone. When I was running as a governor, I didn’t know anything. I made them start Bartlet college in my dining room. Two hours every morning on foreign affairs and the military. You can do that.
RITCHIE: How many different ways you think you’re gonna find to call me dumb?
BARTLET: I wasn’t, Rob. But you’ve turned being un-engaged into a Zen-like thing, and you shouldn’t enjoy it so much is all, and if it appears at times as if I don’t like you, that’s the reason why.
RITCHIE: You’re what my friends call a superior sumbitch. You’re an academic elitist and a snob. You’re, uh, Hollywood, you’re weak, you’re liberal, and you can’t be trusted. And if it appears from time to time as if I don’t like you, well, those are just a few of the many reasons why.
[Music begins to play inside the theatre]
BARTLET: They’re playing my song.
[Bartlet stands and heads to the stairs, but he turns to Ritchie before reaching them.]
BARTLET: In the future, if you’re wondering, “Crime. Boy, I don’t know” is when I decided to kick your ass.

The West Wing, 3x22 Posse Comitatus