Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Do it. You're still here?

-Nothing on the docks. -No one we can buy weight with.

The shipbuilders' local goes belly-up, and that makes you some kind of martyr?

-Take us up. -Son of a bitch! God damn it!

-Excuse me. -Hey, pal.

That's fine. But now we're going to have to open the warehouse again.

Proposition Joe Stewart, and "White Mike" McArdle...

That's the Greek? That old guy? I seen him in here before.

Putting two and two together, and coming up with six, maybe.

The chairman, he thought you'd be right for it, is all.

-Surveillance? -That got us to the front door...

Meantime, I hear that our regular port cop, the one that found your girls...

When I get home at night, I just wanna watch a ball game or something.

I'd truck his ass, if it was me.

It's looking your kid in the eye that's the hard part.

That's right. Keep walking, bitch.

Just give me a minute.

Yeah. The way we just punked them, they got to.

If I'm no good for....

"Robert Johnson." You believe that?

-Not now, Gus. I'm good. -Whatever you say, Jimmy.

And don't give me that he's-got-that-fire- in-the-belly garbage, either.

-Took it while you was resting. -Y'all too late.

Them things got lice.

I need to do a case.

10-4. Come home.

where we tracked the suspect container.

Go on, go home.

-Boy needed to get schooled. -What are you, some kind of badass now?

I need McNulty on this detail.

Get back to your office.

to some backwards-ass, no-count, out-in-the-districts...

Truck him with your best punch and then just walk the fuck away.

Sync'd by Mothman

Thanks, Lieutenant.

Would we be police if we could?

We're rolling out there. I can't hand this shit off fast enough.

She says it's on the computer when my account comes on:

Thanks for the beer.

Frappuccino? What the fuck is that?