Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Right up the fucking ass, Lieutenant.

I'm working my regular eight. I can handle it, you know?

Valchek gave him immunity, and he just put Valchek on his ass.

We're agreeing to take on the whole case, Lieutenant.

The game now is that we gotta sell more of this good shit than they do.

I ain't even seen shit like this since I don't know when.

-Standing by. -We got our man.

They're saying he shot two of the Greeks.

We're gonna go back and start typing that warrant tomorrow morning.

All right, cottage-cheese, chest-ass motherfucker.

When you use a cell phone and press "send," where does the call go to?

Except for fretting on you, I'm good.

where three or four cars stopped at the same time for more than five minutes.

I mean, shit, if you're gonna run, you might as well come out and say so.

And ends up in a computer at a wireless provider.

If that is the case, then I have to insist that you leave.

Good day to you, sir.

What if you knew where the call was made? I mean, exactly where it was made.

Motherfucking Eastside need to get their asses...

And one of the kids that works down the store on the avenue with him.

But that's not gonna mess you up, though, right?

My mom's puke-yellow Chevy.

Back off to what?

Didn't say what that might be?

Let me get this into the computer for the boys overseas.

See what leads that might generate.

The police have him now.

If it keeps going like this, I don't know what I'm gonna do.

Remember when he forged that Age of Majority card?

Let some bushwacking fiend back-shoot his ass.

It's for my people.

They sure do stir up the shit, them Greeks do.

-How's our package? -How's it look? Shit is good.

Good digs, people...

Maybe call my folks, like I did tonight.