i've got a question for you mike, and i want you to promise to be completely honest.
do you think i'm too fat?
seriously?
thanks, man. vic gives mike a jive hand shake and the two do a little hug. over mike's shoulder, vic sees the woman who's come into the office.
darla, sweetheart. ready for number eight? darla drops her top and heads for the bathroom.
is he in there? mike nods, leading vic through a door, into
so, you think you can just walk into my town and move in on my territory? the man takes a quick look down at his own crotch, fearing the worst. he shakes his head, pleading through his gag.
someone's been recruiting new talent.
why the hell would someone from hawaii come to cleveland?
that's true. vic regains his train of thought.
what is this? "f" with vic month? if any more amateurs start moving in on my territory, i'm going to get really mad. vic opens the drawer and pulls out a gun. he cocks it menacingly.
i don't know.
you're right, mikey. mike takes the gun from vic and puts it away.
you hungry?
grab some lunch?
are you sure those are the guys from the pretty kitty?
give me that address. i'm gonna teach these assholes a little lesson about the adult film business. he takes the piece of paper and storms out the door.
oh, yeah. thanks mike. vic puts his slippers on. they do the jive hand shake and hug thing again. 77 int. vic's car, parked - day 77 vic checks the address of the house against the print out.
goddamn amateurs. think they can screw with vic ramalot.
you greitzer?
ronald j. greitzer?
oh, i get it. brilliant. you're not even a fuckin' kid. mike pulls the gun out and puts it to greitzer's head. greitzer drops his glass of soda, raises his hands, and starts shaking, terrified.
what am i doing? i'm retiring you from the porno business. permanently. understand?
no more sweet young pussy, no more hot school-girl fantasies, no more goddamn pornos "for virgins by virgins." you got me? greitzer's eyes dart over to the side, and for the first time, vic steps into the house and sees: little girls. it's greitzer's little daughter's birthday party. six-year- old girls and their stunned parents all stare at vic. greitzer's wife comes over, screaming and crying.
uh.
thanks, dave.
did you say "after school special"? mike grabs the paper, drops the guy, and he and vic rush out of the store. after they're gone:
not so fast, ladies. it's vic and mike, and mike points his gun at deacon's head.
which one of you is balls mclongcock? matt and deacon give up fred.
good name.
too bad you're not going to be able to use it any more.
the competition. and who the hell are you, coming into my town, paying girls double what i'm paying them? this stupid after school special shit is cutting into my business. so now i'm putting you out of business.
relax. we're not going to kill you. the guys let out a collective sigh of relief. thank god. a beat. then mike pulls out the hedge clippers.
start with him.
okay. do the leader kid.
come on, kid. take it like a man. vic pulls down deacon's pants. mike brings the blades together in a menacing practice chop.
what did you say?
how many? fifty? a hundred?
what?
okay, so what's your cut?
and what's that? matt puts his arm around around vic's shoulder.
okay. we've got a deal, but you gotta give me all your master tapes. and kid. if you ever need a job, give me a call.
ramalot. vic ramalot.
thanks. the guys savor the moment, then simultaneously realize the clock's still ticking.  they run!