Merry Christmas!
-What's your name, little boy? -Eric.
What do you want for Christmas, Eric? Hm?
A Johnny Lightning 500.
-You been good, little boy? -Yeah.
Good. You like Santa Claus? Huh?
Now, you like Santa Claus, right?
Let's sing a little song. "Jingle Bells. "
Get up.
Get up! And hold 'em up.
-Hold it! -Freeze!
Jimmy, watch it. He's got a knife.
-Hold it, you son of a bitch! -No, no!
That's enough. Don't kill him. That's enough!
-Get up! -Come on, give me a break!
-I ain't done nothin', man. -Break, your ass.
-Come on. -Get up!
Will you stop it? Stop it!
-Jimmy. -Let me bust him. I wanna bust him.
-I wanna bust him. -Let me talk to him. Let me talk to him!
-You got a friend here. You got a friend. -You gonna tell us who your man is?
When's the last time you picked your feet? Who's your connection, Willie?
-Answer him! -No, no, man!
Is it Joe the barber? That's who it is, isn't it?
Don't give us any shit. What's Joe's last name?
-I don't know, man! -Give him a chance. Just give him a chance.
All I know is he lives on 125th Street, man. Above the barber shop.
What side of the street does he live on? North or south?
-I don't know what you're talking about. -What side of the street does he live on?
-When's the last time you picked your feet? -What's he talkin' about?
I got a man in Poughkeepsie wants to talk to you. You ever been in Poughkeepsie?
-Hey, man, give me a break. -Come on, say it. Let me hear you say it.
Have you ever been to Poughkeepsie? You've been to Poughkeepsie? I wanna hear it!
-Yes, I've been to Poughkeepsie. -You sat on the edge of the bed.
You took off your shoes and picked your feet, didn't you?
-Now say it! -Yes.
All right. You put a shiv in my partner. You know what that means, goddamnit?
All winter I gotta listen to him gripe about his bowling scores.
I'm gonna bust your ass for those three bags, then I'm gonna nail you for picking your feet.
Merci.
Bonjour.
C'est merveilleux, ch閞i.
Tu me g鈚es. Je t'aime.
C'est pour toi, ch閞i.
Merci, ch閞ie.
Need a little help there?
-You dumb guinea. -How the hell did I know he had a knife?
-Never trust a nigger. -He could've been white.
-Never trust anyone. Goin' sick? -No.
-Are you goin' sick? -No!
-What d'you say we go to Chez for a drink? -Jimmy, I'm beat. I'm gonna go home.
All right, all right. One drink.
-Drink this. -Whip it out.
I make at least two junk connections at that far table over in the corner.
The guy in the striped shirt and tie combo,
I know him too.
I thought we came here to buy me a drink.
Who is that clown?
It's a policy guy from Queens.
-Dig the creep that's comin' to the table now. -It's Jewish Lucky.
He don't look the same without numbers across his chest.
That table is definitely wrong.
More!
More!
What about the last of the big-time spenders? Do you make him?
No. You?
He's spreadin' it around like the Russians are in Jersey.
Oh, yes.
What do you say we stick around and give him a tail?
Come on. Just for fun.
Give who a tail?
The greaser with the blonde.
What for? You wanna play hide the salami with his old lady?
Yeah.
Miss, can I ask you about those boots? They're...
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