House Arrest
What the fuck? Stop! What are you doing?!
What are you doing? You clog me up!
Mister! What--? Where do you suppose you're going?
Stop, stop! l demand you stop!
l demand you come back here this instant!
This instant, you motherfucker! You motherfucker!
Motherfucker! Motherfucker!
Yeah. Zanone Brothers.
-_ello. Thís ís Síraj. -This fucking series, huh?
Your dríver.
He comes here, he dumps the garbage all over the place!
-Oh, he did, huh? -What he dídt
-How about those Knicks? -Come get ítt
-Get what, sir? -The goddamn, goddamn garbage!
-We thought you wanted it back! -What?
-The raghead from the deli.
Hellot Where are you?
You called yesterday to complain. Our policy's written on our trucks.
''Double your garbage back if you're not satisfied. ''
l complain because...
...you didn't make full pickups on 1 2th, 1 6th, 20th.
And then l get charged double for it!
Right. We had to come out twice.
You charge me double for píckups you míssed?
My dispatcher asked you, if you're not satisfied:
''Did you want your garbage back?''
Of course l don't want garbage back!
Then you're satisfied.
You are speaking shit to me.
We'll try to send the truck out tomorrow.
What are we talking, eight to ten?
For God's sake, Alan, l can plead him out at three to five.
All right. Talk to Mike Gendler. See what he says.
What's all this?
Looked thirsty last time l saw you.
Oh, yeah. You know what? l knew l left this someplace.
-New? -You know, keeping busy.
-Carmela, the kids? -Good.
You know, school shit.
-You bet that game last night? -Yeah.
What do you think l need this for?
What do l owe you, counselor?
Pay me when l actually do something.
l hope that fucking day never comes.
lt almost did, very recently.
The Neil Mink lecture series.
lsn't it fair to say we stared into the abyss?
A very close call, that brush with the murder beef.
l told you. l was home alone.
You and Macaulay Culkin.
Except then neither one of you would've been alone.
Champagne's nice. But you want to give me a real gift?
lnsulate yourself from these shenanigans like l told you.
l do. l am. What the fuck you want from me?
Use one of the businesses we have you in for something...
.. .besides showing income on a tax return.
Spend time at Garden State Rendering.
You know what boiling fat smells like?
You have an office at Barone Sanitation.
Get your ass out of that strip club and go there.
All right, l hear you.
The feds are a business, Anthony.
Millions of tax dollars invested in watching your ass.
Sooner or later, just like you...
...they're gonna want a return on that investment.
Mother of fucking mercy!
You take a sledgehammer to my balls?
That's just the incision where l inserted the stent.
-You'll feel a little tenderness. -Okay, almost there. Easy.
-Just use the bedpan next time. -l'm no cat. l don't shit in a box.
-You have to watch your heart. -My heart's fine.
When l get out of here, we're going to a discotheque. You and me.
Discotheque.
What's so funny?
Mr. Soprano, l'm Michael McLuhan from the U.S. Marshal's Service.
Here to reattach your electronic bracelet.
They give you the important jobs.
Excuse me.
-Your name's really McLuhan? -Right.
So that makes you Marshal McLuhan.
That's right.
What's the fucking joke?
You may feel some pressure in your chest.
lt'll go away as the blood flow to the heart increases.
Just stay in bed, plenty of fluids. We'll get you home tomorrow.
Lucky-fucking-me.
Sandwich or something?
Did you hear me with my balls? Who could fucking eat?
New York's only classíc rock statíon, Q1 O_.
What are you looking at?
Nothing. Just looking out the window.
Getting my eyebrows done.
Remember:
One mouth, two ears. Listen to each other.
l'll see you next week.
So...
...what's up?
l don't know. l'm--
l'm bored or something.
l don't want to come here no more.
Wow.
Not the first time we've heard you say that.
No offense, but this is feeling like a waste of time.
-l'm sure for the both of us. -l don't feel that way.
The other day l'm watching this movie with Brad Pitt and that blond...
.. .Gwyneth Paltrow.
Slídíng Doors_
Fuck no! Seyen.
lt's a good movie. l never seen it before.
But halfway through it l'm thinking...
...''This is bullshit.
A waste of my fucking time.
Why do l give a shit who the killer is?
What difference will that information make in my life?''
Very true.
So l shut it off.
Good for you.
What did you do instead?
Went out in the yard. Burned ants with a magnifying glass.
A little sense of humor here?
You still in mourning over the coming of managed care?
-Go on. -What's the point?
You go to Italy, you lift some weights, you watch a movie.
lt's all a series of distractions till you die.
l hear depression talking.
Yeah, well, l'm not up on my dosage.
Medication. What do l got to show for it?
Who knows where you'd be without the medication?
Anyway, some people take pleasure in the simple doing of things.
Yeah, well, the things l take pleasure in, l can't do.
Currently trying to change my business profile, if you know what l mean.
Oh, so it's all about your legal problems.
l'm gonna get the car.
Don't disappear. Meet me out front.
Corrado?
l thought that was you.
Catherine.
Romano.
Catherine.
You have to stay in the chair till you leave the building.
-Hospital rules. -So call a cop.
A little procedure. They should worry about the sick.
lt's all about the insurance. You remember my Chuckie?
Little Chuckie. You drove the bike for the butcher's.
l gotta call Karen, Ma.
He's a cop now, like his father.
-A detective. -He was a good egg, your Lou.
He was a real straight shooter. He had a lot of class.
Hodgkin's, no?
lt's been almost 1 5 years.
That long?
The week the shuttle exploded.
The pension helps. The grandchildren.
You look good, Corrado. You healthy?
A little heart trouble. Nothing much.
You broke your ankle?
Bunions.
You still in Belleville?
Same house. Watsessing Avenue.
l'm right on Ampere Parkway. Near our beloved alma mater.
Maybe we could have coffee? Catch up.
There's an IHOP by the dry cleaners.
The doctor says l'm not supposed to leave the house. Too much stress.
Sir?
The chair.
l don't show up for eight years, you turn my office into a storeroom?
l'll get this shit cleaned right out.
Connie! Connie!
This is Mr. Soprano.
Tony. How you doing?
Connie DeSapio.
What happened to Diane?
A little self-indulgent with the office supplies.
He's been out in the field, but he's gonna spend some time with us at HQ.
So let's get Ralphie and Danny here and move these boxes and books out.
-What should l do with them? -l don't know. Make room.
l'll put them by the copy machine.
Nice rack.
Born-again Christian.
Oh, yeah?
Listen, while l have you here. We may have a problem. Richie Aprile.
Yeah, l heard. He tipped a truck at a deli in Nutley.
Fucking guy. But that's not it.
One of Zanone's drivers, the illustrated man?
Richie's got him running an operation selling blow along the routes.
The Department of Sanitation l can handle.. .
...but if the DEA gets involved, we're gonna lose our 9-O-1 .
-Son of a fucking bitch. -l don't like to break your balls.
That piece of shit's gonna be my brother-in-law.
Nice, huh?
The RICO Act, Elliot.
We sat there and we talked about the fucking RICO Act.
You treat different patients, your base of knowledge expands.
Two years ago, l thought RICO was a relative of his.
Cards-on-the-table time. How's the drinking?
l don't know.
Worse, l guess.
Are you an alcoholic?
l am drinking in between sessions.
-That's very serious. -Just on the days that l see him.
l can't take it.
Finally. Thank you.
Are you taking steps to seriously end it?
He wanted to end it.
Last time he wanted to stop coming, but l talked him out of it.
Why?
lf l was at Sloan and he had a pituitary tumor...
...would l stop him from coming?
Elliot, it's like that thing with watching a train wreck.
l'm afraid and repulsed by what he might tell me.
But somehow l can't stop myself from wanting to hear it.
Okay.
All set.
lt'll ramp up to eight pounds per cubic inch.
Keep your airway open when you're sleeping.
l don't snore. Don't be embarrassed.
Obstructive sleep apnea is serious.
Every time you wake up fighting for breath...
.. .it puts tremendous strain on your heart.
Dr. Schreck is right in prescribing this for you.
-lt makes me look like a sick man. -You're not sick.
But testing shows REM-wise you have 40 arousals per hour.
More, since l met you.
Such a thing to say.
''Arousals'' mean a change in your stages of sleep.
You are such a flirt.
l'll stop by tomorrow, see how you did.
Be counting the beats.
-Who's that? -Judge Crater. How should l know?
-The one ordered the house arrest? -Answer the door. It's an expression.
l'm gonna go wash my hands.
Hello, l'm Catherine. A friend of Corrado's.
Fuck me.
Catherine, what a surprise.
l would've called. You're unlisted. l brought manicotti.
How's your foot?
lt's better. Thanks.
Heart?
Better.
ls this a bad time for a visit?
Actually, the nurse just got here. We're about to have my examination.
Oh, well, maybe Friday then.
l volunteer at the bingo since Louis passed.
Well, enjoy the manicotti.
Thank you, l will.
You're awful.
She went to school with my older brother.
Oh, right. l'll see you tomorrow.
Why'd you send her away? l thought you were bored.
Talking to that dreadnought would help?
She seems all right.
What the hell do we have in common?
Bunion. You know how l feel about feet.
Look at this. You believe this one with the cleavage?
Finger food's better than last year.
Not the landfill. The problem's the limit.
We're at two grand a day...
...but with the DOS breaking our balls l gotta fuck with the ins and outs.
Oh, yeah? What's that?
Paperwork, you know?
List the gross tonnage. l gotta file it in triplicate every day.
Right.
How you doing?
-ls that your wife, Dickie? -Yeah. Come on, l'll introduce you.
l'm getting engaged myself.
Hey, some place, huh? That landscaping is gorgeous.
Janice, you're completely transformed. What can l say?
-''You look good, Janice. '' -Yeah, you look pretty good, Janice.
-You are a giant asshole, you know? -Come on.
Richie, you got a minute?
Jesus Christ, let me get a drink.
No, we'll grab a waiter. Come on.
-See you. -Excuse me, ladies.
-Have you met Helen Barone? -Hi. Jan Soprano.
-Nice to meet you, Jan. -Nice to meet you.
Got any blow?
-What? -Blow. You know, coke.
lt's not on you? l gotta go to the deli in Nutley?
You don't sell that shit along those routes.
l'm with Junior.
l don't give a shit if you're working with Wal-Mart.
l'm earning. We're saving for a house.
You got enough picking up garbage.
Not if you, the fucking association, and Barone won't let me expand.
Are you fucking stonato or what?
After five years, the cops are leaving garbage alone.
A drug bust on one of those routes?
The FBl, DEA, all those fucking pricks will breathe down our necks again.
lt's a little coke. What is the big deal?
You and my uncle, you deal drugs, it's your business.
You do it on association routes, it's my business.
lt stops today. You got it?
Don't give me no fucking Manson lamps. Just fucking stop.
Also, don't tip a truck on a problem customer.
You know, l fucking hate the way you make me fucking ride you.
Now get the fuck out of here!
Municipalities went private. We bid on a landfill in West Virginia.
l started reading the EPA's new guidelines on curbside recycling.
Listen, l'm telling you. Just listen to me, guys.
l got it right through the transfer station.
lt scaled out at nearly 3000 tons!
Three thousand tons!
Talking about a yard waste ban in half the states on the Eastern seaboard.
Oh, my God. Tony. Call an ambulance!
-Oh, my God, what's wrong? -Flip him over.
Watch his head.
Pills, the analysis. You pay her a fortune. What's she doing for you?
-Leave me alone. -lf it was a man, you'd wring his neck.
l got a fucking rash now. Leave me alone.
Putting a wing on her house.
Mr. Soprano.
-l have your results. -Yeah?
lt's preliminary, but as far as l can tell--
Nothing physical, right?
l passed out. If it's nothing physical then what the fuck is wrong?
l would think you'd be relieved.
l'll be relieved when l figure out what's wrong.
l wish it was something physical so l could rip it the fuck out!
Sorry, it's just very frustrating. l know you're only trying to help.
Losing some weight wouldn't hurt.
Shit.
Did you get the ladyfingers?
No, they were out. l got crumbcake. The Entenmann's.
Disposal again? Leave it, l told you. l gotta get the flange.
When, Saint Swithen's Day?
Who was at the door before?
-That lady from the other day. -Catherine?
The one with the manicotti. l said you were sleeping.
Why didn't you wake me?
Roberta Sanfillipo didn't call back, did she?
l gotta be honest.
When l ran into her at Fountains of Wayne that time...
...she was very cold.
What was she buying?
A fountain. Kid pissing.
Must have bought a house.
Great ass.
Jesus. Talked too much, but what a piece she was.
And game as they come.
Listen, l'm gonna go. Gotta take my kid to karate.
8ut in _ngela's _shes you laughed with them at least.
Every paycheck squandered on alcohol.
-You know the Irish and their liquor. -''The weakness,'' he calls it.
How he could make such heartache funny is beyond me.
-My God, with that father. -We don't know what poverty is.
Didn't the mother come off nicer?
lt's all in the writing.
He makes certain choices about how he's going to portray people.
Like the nuns in that convent.
-Hello. -Yeah, T. It's me.
Hey.
Listen, that container came in from the other side.
-lt's supposed to go to that guy. -Great. It's about fucking time.
lt's better than she said.
l mean, it's un-fucking-believable. It's all original World War Il shit.
-You're fuckíng kíddíng me. -l know nothing! Nothing!
Ton, l am lookíng at the fuckíng _ístory Channel heret
You gotta come down here. You're gonna love this stuff.
No.
We got Eisenhower's dinnerware from Allied headquarters in London.
We got a couple of Herman Goering's personal pearl-handled Lugers.
And get this, we got the jeep that Patton drove around in Sicily.
We have ways of dealing with you, Mr. Soprano!
Put that down, ít's expensíve.
-No, l better listen to the lawyer. -Are you sure?
Yeah. You guys go ahead without me.
-All ríght, l'll talk to you later. -All right.
How about a mystery?
The mystery is that Rosalie _ea_ The Ya-Ya Sísterhood.
What? l liked it.
What about John Irving? Something like Cí_er _o_se R_les?
Yeah, but not so sad.
So how's that English class going?
Comparative literature, whatever?
Comp lit was last semester.
l told you l'm taking Lacan. Deconstructive theory.
Oh, deconstructivist. Excuse me.
lncredible. They could care less.
This is delicious.
And your grandfather a contractor.
Deconstructivism.
My droll mom.
Excuse me, could you move your cigarette?
-Pardon me? -lt's blowing into my son's face.
-Thank you. -We're allowed to smoke.
Unfortunately an area where New Jersey is woefully behind.
But could you move it?
-lt's no big deal. -lt's no big deal to move it either.
l don't think so.
l'm sorry?
-l'm not gonna move it. -Why not?
-Because you're very rude. -l said ''excuse me'' quite clearly.
Your tone.
-lt's a health hazard. Move it. -No.
l'm a physician. Do you know what you're doing to the rest of us?
My son has taken the trouble in his own life to live in a smoke-free dorm.
-My salutations. -Mom.
This isn't a smoke-free restaurant.
Look, this is silly. Could you just move the fucking thing?
-Not when you talk like that. -Just move the cigarette, please.
-No. -No?
No.
-Mom! -Well?!
You bitch!
-She must be drunk. -Excuse me, what did you say?
Ma'am? Come on, l saw what happened. Let's just-- Shall we?
-You call the police. -l don't think that's warranted.
Please call the police. l'm not the one with the lethal weapon here!
l'd like you to leave.
Come on, Jason.
l'm out of here.
-Hello. -ln here.
-Uncle Jun? -ln here. The kitchen!
Where you been? l been calling you all afternoon.
My fucking hand is stuck down the drain...
...and l can't reach the fucking phone!
Good thing l'm nice. l could start tickling you.
Jesus Christ. How long you been standing there?
Six hours! Now get the fucking detergent and lubricate my wrist!
Motherfucking son of a bitch!
l thought you were Bobby.
-Why didn't you just call a plumber? -With what, my fucking toes?!
All right, relax. Relax! Let it go limp.
Limp! You're flexing! Let it go limp.
Limp. That's it.
You're flexing. Limp. That's it, simmer down.
Simmer down.
Easy.
-Oh, Jesus-fucking-Christ. -There.
Oh, this fucking house. l'm dying here!
Come on, just take it easy, okay?
You're coming to the engagement party, right? You'll get permission?
l'll make some coffee.
l don't give a shit!
lt's light.
You got your nephew to thank for that.
What do you mean?
l ran into him the other day at...
...the garbage man's ball, or whatever the fuck it is.
Says we can't sell coke on the route.
-What? -That's what he said.
l guess nobody should eat but him.
You should've seen him in the golf outfit.
He looked like Wallace Beery.
Where does he get the effrontery?
He's the boss. Whether he has grand mals or not.
-And this shit is okay with you? -l know that you love him, Junior.
l don't want to say anything disparaging.
They're bureaucrats. They nit, they pick.
lt's passive-aggressive.
They hate their lives, themselves. l know, they're not out in the field.
What can l do? It's mandatory!
Okay, hold on.
Get me the paperwork on the separation requirements for New Jersey.
Where is it?
l don't know, l put them with the recycling files.
Can l get you something? Coffee?
No. No, l'm all right.
l'll be going home soon.
l embarrassed my son.
How's he supposed to know where this type of behavior is coming from?
Think it's time you considered a 1 2-step program?
l'm not an alcoholic, Elliot.
Besides, l have you. This.
Therapy isn't a substitute. You know that.
l won't drink with my son anymore.
We're bargaining now?
l'll go to a meeting.
l'm also prescribing Luvox.
Luvox?
-lt's for OCD. -Among other things.
l've had success treating other compulsions.
-Compulsions, Elliot? Come on. -Your patient, Jennifer.
Your inability to bring the therapy to a conclusion.
Elliot, l honestly believe that he's not ready.
Refer him to another doctor.
-Do you really think l'm-- -Obsessed?
Luvox.
Jesus Christ.
That coke provides a nice income stream.
-Have any idea the bills l got? -Keep it away from the garbage route.
Lawyers, doctors, prescriptions.. .
...a double sawbuck for a pillow so l can sit comfortably.
Why don't you sit on that pile of cash you got?
My finances are nobody's damn business.
That garbage is my business.
l don't want you and that shitbird fucking it up!
Your business?
Why don't you get that through that bald dome of yours?
Why does everything have to be so difficult?
You know, back in the '50s we worked together.
Even rival families settled their differences amicably.
l remember Albert Anastasia lying all amicable on the barbershop floor.
There were exceptions. l'm just saying.
-l'm sorry. Should l come back? -lt's all right.
We're done here.
So bad night last night, huh?
Let's see if we can't get you a better fit on this mask.
That little cupcake. She never came back.
-The one with the mask. -Tracy?
Sent her a bottle of Shalimar.
Oh, she never mentioned it.
You should be happy at least.
The stint was a complete success.
Let's not tempt fate by taxing the heart.
How many MiGs you shoot down last week?
Where's that fucking manicotti?
lt's gone.
Half a fucking tray in there!
l was hungry.
Son of a bitch!
lt's not my fault you got your hand caught. Why you gotta be so nasty?
Dírectory Assístance. What lístíng?
Belleville. l need a number for a Catherine Romano.
Thank you. For what cíty?
Cocksucker. Belleville!
Please hold for an operator.
Any allergies? Shellfish, perhaps?
l eat shrimp all the time.
-MSG? -No.
-Any change in medication? -No.
A new laundry detergent, something like that?
l don't know. l don't think so.
-Have you been under any undue stress? -That the only word you people know?
Sometimes pressure can cause contact dermatitis.
ls that what that is? See, l knew that was bad.
lt means rash.
-lt's bleeding, for chrissake! -You've been scratching it.
You said you work at a sanitation transfer station.
Dollars to doughnuts, you're exposed to an irritant in the air there.
l sit in an office.
l'll write you a scrip for a cortisone cream.
Dr. Cusamano tells me you've been seeing a psychotherapist.
So?
l suggest you talk about stress management with him.
To tell you the truth, l was surprised to hear from you.
l was sorry we missed our visit.
l had a feeling you weren't interested.
Oh, no.
l stopped by the other day, but l guess you were out.
lt was odd. l thought l heard you hollering.
Funny how life works. The different paths.
All leading to the cemetery.
Can l ask you something, Corrado?
Was my Lou ever, you know, on the take?
No, of course not.
Why would you ask such a thing?
Sometimes, you know, l'd find money.
Hundreds of dollars. Cash. In his pockets at night.
Probably won it at the racetrack.
-You think so? -Sure, why not?
Somebody has to win.
Well, the kitchen needs some work.
You know, a little marble, maybe some new fixtures.
lt's nice.
-Think they'll come down on the price? -l don't know.
lt's your sister. Would it kill you to take interest?
-l'm here, ain't l? -Oh, l'm sorry we're late.
The paper says Fox Hill Lane, she takes me to Stag Trail Road.
Not bad, huh, Carm? Oh, wow!
lf we have kids, Ma's house isn't big enough.
_ _ _ _ And like Tony says, It's not our house anyway.
See this bedroom. You could make a den out of the closet.
Talked to my uncle the other day.
Yeah.
l heard.
So we're clear on this drug shit, right, Richie?
The reason l'm asking, q850,OOO is a big nut.
l don't know if your job at the fish market will cover it.
Tell me about it.
These walls?
Skim coat. Not that plain Sheetrock shit.
Not only that, they put in the lawn this year. It's new.
When did you put your lawn in?
This is a great school district.
Are you all right?
-l gotta go. -What's wrong?
Nothing. Just--
l feel hot.
You're all clammy. Let's get you home.
No, no. You stay with them and help them and--
l'll see you later.
Oh, you poor bastard.
Hey, Tony, you got a minute?
Yeah, sure. What's up?
What are you doing?
Organizing a basketball pool for the people in the office.
-Sounds great. Should be fun. -Yeah.
Listen, l got a call from a friend of mine in Nutley. Guy's a cop.
They got Richie's driver on video.
He sold three ounces of coke at an arcade down there.
lt's all right. l talked to Richie.
This was last night.
Guess we'll have to torch a truck or something.
Oh, you don't want to hear that.
And l sure as shit didn't say it.
-Dick, l'm working on the office pool. -Oh, sure. l'll leave you alone.
Hello.
Corrado?
Why the fuck you calling?
Now listen, l am the only person in this family who doesn't curse.
So just do me the favor.
l want to see how you're feeling. Is that so horrible?
l'm fine.
lt's not easy being abandoned, is it?
Look to yourself.
l had a stroke, Corrado. Did you hear?
Of course l heard. l don't live in Oshkosh.
And l heard you're keeping company with that Catherine Romano.
Fuck. Never you mind about that.
Ah, she's so sweet.
l remember my Johnny told me...
...she let him feel her up behind the Sons of Italy hall.
Listen, Livia, what you don't know could fill a book.
ls everything all right?
My brother's wife.
Oh, Livia. How is she? l heard she wasn't well.
She never was well. Let's face it.
That woman's life is very sad.
lf she fell into a sewer pipe...
...she'd come up holding a gold watch in each hand.
This was my father's.
Actually it's his uncle's.
lt's sweet, but there's nothing like homemade wine.
-The vinegar eggplant. -From four years ago. Take some home.
Oh, l can't handle the acidity.
l could make us some lunch.
Why bother? There's a Friendly's on Bloomfield Avenue.
l can't.
Don't you enjoy going out?
-lt's not that l don't enjoy it. -Well, what is it then? Your heart?
No, it's certain legal difficulties.
The truth is l can't go out. l'm under house arrest.
Oh, my God.
-Does it hurt? -lt beeps.
lt sends a signal if l leave the house.
You can't go anywhere?
The choices we make, huh?
Occasionally, l get special permission.
Banking, the doctor's, certain family obligations.
For the most part, though....
l understand if you don't want to stay.
l enjoy you, Corrado. l always did.
You stay, l'll bring food in.
Trying to keep a low profile. What's the fucking point?
l'm still a miserable prick and l'm still passing out.
Thing on the History Channel on the American Revolution.
We're the only country in the world...
...where the pursuit of happiness is guaranteed in writing.
Do you believe that?
Bunch of fucking spoiled brats.
-Where's my happiness then? -lt's the pursuit that's guaranteed.
Always a fucking loophole, right?
Well, you seem very mellow today.
Let's talk about you.
You seem like you're on drugs and l'm bored to death.
l'm ready for the George Sanders long walk here!
Do you know why a shark keeps moving?
They gotta move or they'll die. They can't breathe or something.
There's a psychological condition known as alexithymia.
Common in certain personalities.
The individual craves almost ceaseless action.
Which enables them to avoid acknowledging.. .
...the abhorrent things they do.
Abhorrent?
What ''certain personalities''?
Antisocial personalities.
My future brother-in-law.
Ran over a guy. No reason.
Guy's paralyzed. Has to piss into a cathode tube.
What happens.. .
...when these antisocial personalities...
.. .aren't distracted from the horrible shit they do?
They have time to think about their behavior.
How what they do affects other people.
About feelings of emptiness and self-loathing.. .
.. .haunting them since childhood.
And they crash.
Corrado.
Fucking thing.
Shh, with that talk.
Look.
-What did you throw? l didn't see. -l threw?
Ho! Our long lost leader. Somebody must owe him money.
-Hey, Tony. How you doing? -Good.
-How's the clay pigeon been? -Getting there.
Knock Cardozo law school, his lawyer says the gun charge won't stick.
-Congratulations. -We were just talking about.. .
...you know, down the docks.
Driving off some Japanese technology.
-Hesh knows a guy. -Oh, yeah?
So, what else is going on?
Nothing.
So l'm having good luck with Swiss Basics Moisturizing Formula.
Maybe l'll try it.
Got it!
Goodbye.
What the fuck?
Holy shit. Look at that.
lt's that dipshit Carmine again.
Sil, tell him no speeding in the neighborhood.
l'm on it. Come on.
-What an asshole. -Carmine!
What the fuck's wrong with you?
How many times do we gotta tell you? Do not speed in this neighborhood!
Come on, you hurt?
You should be crippled, you fucking asshole!
Don't do that again! You understand me?
Tony.
-Agent Harris. -How you doing?
-How are you? -Good to see you.
l was in the neighborhood. My new partner, Joe Marquez.
-How you doing? -No openings at the post office?
How about those Nets?
-What a series. -Yeah.
-lt's that guy, Williams. -Yeah, he's good.
That fourth quarter was amazing.
-How'd the Knicks do? -lt was close. Really close.
-Look at this asshole. -Your friend?
He drives too fast. He's always fucking hitting shit.
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