Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

His son-in-law will not give his daughter the consent...
We still have six more chapters left.
Those junkie fucks work for Tony.
Sure. I'm the only one who has to go to work.
What's your problem, Hil?
I saw this one.
Do you have a daughter, Mr. Soprano?
- My pleasure. - Have a seat.
Hi, Jack. Bye, Jack.
Jackie, you might be a candidate for clinical trials.
Say hello to Freddy, all right?
So get out of here.
Look, I know him since before I had hair on my pitzl. I made this place.
Yeah, right. Hunter needs it.
From what you're saying, it doesn't sound good.
Good.
The mystery of God, or whatever you want to call it...
Why they'd schedule SATs the same week...
It was just him and that fucking cancer.
Carm, you did not have to do this.
So, please, don't embarrass yourself any further. Just leave.
That's a brilliant idea.
You're mud. Godless clay!
Nothing much.
...or what you're talking about.
What kind of cancer?
Yeah.
Get the Fuck aata hea
Sure. Wow.
There's 37 definites. We got another 13 maybes...
He still has every last hair on his head.
He did?
...under that hotheaded son of yours?
Carmela, what I'm trying to say is, stop worrying about me.
This Christopher Moltisanti.
Shlomo is an arrogant, ignorant control freak.
- You ain't giving them shit. - Why not?
And the old tree all rotted out inside.
It's next to something vital.
Not in the car! Please! Not in the car!
But Jackie...
What do I know? I'm not a doctor.
You got money?
Yeah, I know, but I gotta go.
Let's call the cops. Those guys killed Hector.
Maybe he's willing to go to the world to come...
They're called Hasidim.
Damn!
What do you mean?
You can't let her go to Jefferson Avenue. They'll sell her Ajax.
Orginalet Madonna
It's okay. It's a private party.
I want to go to Berkeley so bad.
Bye.