it's a '62 lincoln convertible. like the one kennedy was shot in.
see that. i was going to take you and your mom for a spin after breakfast. but now i guess it'll just be her and me. you have your smart mouth to thank for that.
the what?
sold it to a sailor on the alameda naval air base. a man should never own a car for more than three months, estelle. that way he always gets the thrill of owning a new automobile! jerry smiles with cretin pride. nick looks to his mother and disturbingly enough, she seems turned on by his car-owner savvy.
nick, you little shit, get down here! jerry hollers from the kitchen where estelle gapes out the window. nick calmly joins them from upstairs.
you tell them when i was coming back?
i think i'll go get the lincoln washed.
just tell him he bought the car with my standard guarantee. thirty days or thirty feet. whichever comes first. i'm in the right. and on cue comes the ring of the doorbell and the simultaneous pounding of angry navy fists on the back door. they peer out the window and find the fleet on the front steps.
get rid of them! and then the front door gets kicked open and a mob of sailors pour in. jerry flees. a handheld cam chase as he heads for the back and is cut off by the sailors coming in. jerry bolts up the stairs.
that's my life savings! one of the sailors pokes jerry in the gut hard and he whimpers.
please. please don't hurt me. it's all i got, guys. i swear. take the lincoln!
wow, those guys are even dumber than i thought. they actually think i'm stupid enough to let them muscle me into paying.
i'm not some tattle-tale like your son. nick rolls his eyes.
can't. it's in the code.
code of the streets, babe. code of the streets.
let's blow!
c'mon estelle. it's real cute on the inside.
i say the kid does the dishes and we retire to the master bedroom. jerry pushes out and disappears into the back. nick watches him with loathing. estelle smiles apologetically.
turn off the damn light!
you wanna beat your meat, go outside!
she's got a nice rack.
what's your cash price?
thousand, huh? that must be with a guarantee.
i don't know. those rusty propane tanks are a fire hazard. the roof probably needs work. i couldn't go above eight hundred. the geezer ponders the bad news. estelle shakes her head and goes inside the rv to inspect.
nine hundred. sheeni lets out a squeal of delight. they all turn their attention to where she has discovered a box full of squirming
okay. back to civilization! he fires up the lincoln and they kick up dust. albert slobbers all over nick. nick sets him down and watches sheeni in the side-mirror, waving in the road.
you see that, babe. they caved.
boy, everything's complete. there's even water in the windshield washer.
looks like they brought it in piece by piece and then reassembled it.
or a navy, babe. or a navy.
can someone do something about the mutt? the family dines over take-out fried chicken. jerry kicks albert and the puppy goes tumbling across the floor.
ok, babe, i guess when i come back from my next haul i'll just have to take it apart piece by piece.
hey, nick. want to learn how a car is put together?
see, estelle, i told you the kid was queer-eeaaaahhhhh! jerry lurches backward in the chair and lands on the floor, revealing that albert's teeth have a firm grasp on jerry's sack. the dog shakes the scrotum in his jaws.
damn it! the dog! he tries to swipe albert with his beer bottle, but the dog retreats into the house, leaving jerry rolling around on the floor. joanie and nick exchange a smile. the phone rings. estelle gets up to answer it.