you should have told me your boss was corleone, tom, i had to check you out. i thought you were just some third rate hustler johnny was running in to bluff me. florence, thirteenth century. decorated the garden of a king.
i'm going to show you something beautiful.
you like horses? i like horses, i love 'em. beautiful, expensive racehorses.
khartoum. kartoum. you are looking at six hundred thousand dollars on four hoofs. i bet even russian czars never paid that kind of dough for a single horse. but i'm not going to race him i'm going to put him out to stud.
okay, but just tell him this is one favor i can't give. but he should try me again on anything else.
you smooth son of a bitch, let me lay it on the line for you, and your boss. johnny fontane never gets that movie. i don't care how many dago, guinea, wop greaseball goombahs come out of the woodwork!
okay my kraut-mick friend, johnny will never get that part because i hate that pinko punk and i'm going to run him out of the movies. and i'll tell you why. he ruined one of woltz brothers' most valuable proteges. for five years i had this girl under training; singing lessons! acting lessons! dancing lessons! we spent hundreds of thousands of dollars--i was going to make her a star. i'll be even more frank, just to show you that i'm not a hard-hearted man, that it wasn't all dollars and cents. that girl was beautiful and young and innocent and she was the greatest piece of ass i've ever ad and i've had them all over the world. then johnny comes along with that olive oil voice and guinea charm and she runs off. she threw it all away to make me look ridiculous. a man in