Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Go home. You're always starting fucking trouble.

December 11th, 1959.

I am your friend. I made a mistake. I'm sorry.

- I'm not... Ma! - What are you, 12?

Bad thing. Real bad thing…

- It was great seeing you. - Yeah, you too. You look good.

with the cannoli and the baba rum

Are you sucking dick?

I drank too much tonight, you know?

We're all wearing dog collars. You're wearing a dog collar.

It's a serious list.

Soothes your mind makes you happy again

If you remember, Reggie has had problems with Billy Martin all year.

I treated you like a son.

Wait. The garage could be cool.

- Is that Ritchie? - Yeah.

You danced so great tonight, baby.

I said hello, hello, hello from the gutters of the city

Can you give me and Ruby a lift to the subway?

Yeah, if I can.

I'd love to catch him here in Bed-Stuy.

Only if I can have you as my cellmate.

Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello

You know him that well?

Good enough to eat?

Let's go fuck him up!

- Good morning, Ma. - Hi, sweetheart.

Take it up your... Come on.

Nice outfit. Is it off the dead?

We do what we want. You're too old to be here.

What's the matter with you? Ritchie does that, you don't tell us?

- What are you talking about? - I'm sorry.

Just around the neighborhood.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

- Baby, I can't. - I'll take you anywhere.

If something doesn't change, I don't know what'll happen.

- I'm feeling a little guilty now. - Now?

What the fuck are you talking about?

What do you think it means?

- Sorry. No can do. - What have you got, then?

It's our job to protect our neighborhood. To defend it.

I'll be right back.

Get the fuck out of the car!

Exactly. Hello, my name is Cassandra Buchanan.

The Post said the killer's a woman-hater.

Forget that. Come and stay with me.

You fucking piece of shit.

Don't fuck up with us.

Go for a drink and then get the hell out.

took place in Brooklyn, Harlem and the South Bronx.

I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?

I'm just asking.

This ain't the Sherry-Netherland.

Listen to the stomping feet

Just give us a blessing.

Dionna, I gotta talk to you.

- You're calling me an idiot? - You're a fucking idiot.

Let me get your door, okay? I wanna do this right.

What the fuck are you doing?

Police now have in custody

that it's a white man who kills all of those white people.

WINS time at the tone, 3:00.

Vinny, I heard you saw the killer.

We have a list.

I'm getting fat.

Bobby the fairy tells me you're a nude dancer at a fag club.

We're doing the best we can. Hold on, ma'am.

I'm about to blow my load!

the killer taunted police by saying he would be back tonight

Yankees three, A's two. Top of the ninth.

- No. - You're gonna have it now.

He lives alone. His wife left him a year ago.

I can't wait to hear what music they're gonna play.

Listen. We got four names on the list.

- Just go. - Just like that?

And then what? We sit around and play cards?

- Dionna, your cousin's stuck-up. - Yeah, really.

Ritchie, I wanna talk to you. Take it easy on the rebound.

He was all shook up, but he's a lot better now.

And he does look determined.

when they are washed away by the sweeper trucks.

That's the message from God. Cut that shit out.

What happened? I'm sorry. Tell me how you like it. I'll do it different.

Today is july 20th, 1951.

Don't you dare Baby me. I'm gonna wait here.

Baby, come on. Let's go.

What, are you loaded these days?

I feel like an outsider.

It doesn't make him the Son of Sam 'cause of that. Come on.

It happened again last night. More terror and bloodshed.

I'm here, John Jeffries, in the predominantly black neighborhood

- Give us a blessing, will ya? - What?

And I'm running away now

Fuck you, Wicked King Wicker, Bye week, lousy wine drinking Ox

Just one show. Relax.

- Don't hurt him. - Get up!

- You live in Manhattan now? - As of last night.

Police, let me haunt you with these words.

Let's go. Come on, come on, come on.

I'm telling you. I think the guy saw my license plate.

How do you follow this clown around?

Look at that hair. What the fuck is that?

Just fuckin' mind your business.

Daddy, let's go home.

- You don't do that shit with your wife. - Why not?

- If you wanna go, I'll go. - No. I'll stay.

I didn't see anybody. Remember that.

That's why he didn't make the gig. Idiot got the dates mixed up.

All right. But he's not working. Ritchie, take $20.