Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

He's my fucking cousin.

Don't start with the witness protection again.

Oh, how'd he do over there with your dad?

Can I talk to you?

Why are you crying? He's gonna be fine.

Careful of the ear, my son.

He just called.

The fuck are you doing?

You could start writing again.

...but I can't stand the pain.

To have a knot in your stomach every time the phone rings.

He's buckled down, he's gotten much more serious as a person.

Your friend at the phone company. Have him call me.

I'm gonna fucking kill myself.

- She can't even sleep. - Ma.

Baby, I hate seeing you like this.

Stupid spics. They were supposed to stamp them themselves.

Fine. Who's your lawyer?

Anything else I can do for you?

You motherfucker.

- Bing. - Yeah, it's me.

Walter? Hey, you looking for me?

- He's got interest in screenwriting. - I'll put in a call to Sam Goldwyn.

Ton, you got a call.

And the reason you didn't just leave the garbage in the dumpster?

So how's life at the old folks' home?

It's bad enough how I betrayed him already.

Smart as a fucking whip.

- Christopher hates him. - Confirmed by wiretaps.

This is long-term parking only.

I choose not to, then.

Like you were saying, theoretically, though, if we do reconcile...

I love you, baby.

I want your cousin on a fucking spit.

- You didn't even sleep. - This is a lot to process, I gotta think.

Fuck em Charles Fuck all of them

...and take my dad in as a partner.