i don't know.
i don't know.
i just don't think it was him.
i think it was you, ducks. caesar starts to walk away as the bartender, now holding a sawed-off shotgun, moves closer to ducks. the exotic dancer splits in a hurry through a curtain at the back of the stage.
a dead fuckin' idiot. as he walks out the door, the soldiers open fire on marty "ducks." caesar doesn't look back.
i like mine burnt.
not all of it. i'm still light about fifteen large. can we cut? this is ridiculous.