hiya, doc. sorry about the window. ben waves him around to the side door. cut to:
i love lox and bagels. i dated a jewish woman once. actually, she might have been the love of my life, but my mother broke it up.
she was always hockin' me a chinick about the madels. a wonderful woman, my mother, but she fuckin' hates the hebes.
makin' new friends. how's it going, doc? i brought some clothes for mr. vitti.
you got it. thanks, mrs. s. so long, everybody. ess gesunterhait.
so. long time no see. you look good, doc.
it would appear not.
new trial. the evidence in my first trail was, you know, tainted. turns out two of the witnesses against me changed their minds -- and the third one, he died after a short illness.
gunshot wound to the head.
yeah, but it is short. vitti, now dressed, comes out of the house and crosses to the car.
i probably shouldn't be listening to this.
sorry.
he's like a racehorse in that area.
yeah, i bet he gets a lot of pussy. laura chokes on her drink.
you said 'fuckin'.'
hey, pal -- got a light? the guy stops, pulls out a zippo and lights it for jelly.
i'm trying to cut down. the gunman recognizes jelly and desperately reaches for the gun in his pocket, but jelly hauls off and whacks the guy across the back of the head with a sap. as he slumps into jelly's arms, vitti steps out of a doorway and jelly drags the gunman into the garage. cut to:
he's screamin' too loud. hold on a second. jelly swings the guy against the building, hitting his head and dazing him momentarily.
go ahead.
you said drop him.
that's not what i heard.
okay, you got me there. cut to:
you really gonna do this?
you got it. cut to:
i got a guy in the transit authority. he owes me. just let me know when.
i'm an extra.
a supernumerary. an 'atmosphere.' it ain't bad. you just stand around all day waitin' for them to shoot and they pay you eighty bucks.
today? about eight hundred maybe.
another grand. one of the producers really likes the ponies.
plus eighty --
hey, dr. sobel?
it's mo-mo.
yeah, i think he's in his camper.
paul, not that i'm questioning, but what do we want with eddie devol? guy's a fuckin' scumbag.
hey, doc. what are you doin' here?
i think she likes you, doc. give her a couple of bucks. ben reluctantly digs in his pocket and holds out a bill to the stripper.
here. see if this'll fit under your shirt.
this ain't bloomingdale's. nobody knew you were comin'. you're lucky you're alive, doc. he glances at eddie devol.
watch it. it may be crazy but it ain't stupid. if you want to stay alive, just keep your mouth shut, do everything i tell you and try not to pee in your pants. can you handle an m-16? he holds up an automatic rifle.
no, i mean twirl it like a fuckin' baton. how about an a.k.?
kalashnikov, mac-10, uzi -- stop me if i hit one you like.
yeah, that's a good one. that gun brings back a lot of fond memories. use it in good health. ben puts the gun into the waistband of his dungarees, but it slips through and drops into his pants.
actually, gold is measured in troy ounces. 14.6 ounces to the pound. that would be.  $18,396,000.
give or take. he hears a loud crash and all eyes turn to the gates.
oh, boy. this is bad.
maybe we oughta should go. vitti, ben and jelly run to the bus, but eddie pulls a gun and stops them. al and bobby cover jelly and the rest of the crew. vitti backs away slowly.
'hold my hand we're halfway there -- '