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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
Whatever I got comes straight.
Let me shorten this conversation for you: It's never gonna happen.
Stop! Move away from the cookiejar.
No contraband.
Nadine would have them in a jar by the side of the bed...
Bernard, you're upsetting my partner, man. What are you doing?
God damn, you're a pussy-crazed motherfucker.
But it has to be the same for everyone: no work, no pay.
They bring the plague, for Christ's sake.
-Diapers? -Disposables, yeah.
You said this case needed a drug connect for a wiretap, right?
Another disappeared can just hit the chassis.
Or this kitchen here has been rigged the same way for 25 years.
Check that can through straight up. You got it?
-Pud, how we doing? -Slow as a white man in slippers.
Go back to Rawls.
Come on, Jimmy. Lighten up.
You want me to clear those bodies?
White DAC truck coming at you pulling a red can.
are connected to the ones running the drugs...
You like fake tits? I can't decide.
C-1-5-7-7-2-6-8.
Enter it on the computer, like any other.
He needs a chaser.
I'd like a stiff one for myself and one for my counselor.
Fucking shit!
Christ, I wish we had a tap on the port office phone.
You'll be registered as Fuzzy Dunlop, a street name.
It came, but it's nothing.
-How many you ordered? -That'd be three.
-So you're gonna send my picture-- -And your social security number.
-What the hell are you wearing? -No one mentioned all the perks.
Said it was either my job or him.
Spiros will know what to do.
Something to do with city police.
I better call the Lieutenant, let him know we gotta set up on this.
Tickle the wire like that.