i thought i got all you guinea hoods locked up. who the hell are you and what are you doing here?
you punk-hood. who the hell are you to tell me my business. i pulled them off. i don't care how many dago gangsters kill each other. i wouldn't lift a finger to keep your old man from getting knocked off. now get the hell out of here; get off this street you punk, and stay away from this hospital.
phil, lock this punk up.
goddam it, i said lock him up. put the cuffs on him.
he's a good kid. he's all right. turn around, up on your knees, facing me.
i'm sorry about the other night mike. i'm getting too old for my job, too grouchy. can't stand the aggravation. you know how it is. he's clean.
is the italian food good here?
sure, you two go right ahead; i'll concentrate on my veal and my spaghetti.
i frisked him; i've frisked thousands of young punks; he's clean.