Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

-He ain't fired, man. -No?

What's more, if the grain pier don't get fixed up soon...

Little Big Roy with his wooden leg.

I wake up every morning with an angry, blue-veined diamond-cutter.

But this thing we did on Barksdale, the wiretap and all...

Fuck me. I still cannot type.

You know, you should take me with you.

But all these paper cuts are starting to take their toll.

Well, well, well. If it isn't Barnacle Bill, the sailor.

County boys are putting her on our side of the bridge.

-How long that motherfucker been home? -A month.

-Ain't a problem, Chief. -The fuck it ain't.

-You stayed with him the whole time? -Every minute.

and the grain pier's been down for a year.

How about you come on the raids tomorrow?

But you've gotta give me the information on what we're taking.

And I'm told the money is on the way back to Baltimore.

Only Franoosh Sobotka would send all the way to Esslingen for stained glass.

So what brings you downstairs?

Fuck kind of game this nigger playing? You sure of our people?

Well, well, well, if it isn’t Barnacle Bill, the sailor.

Hey, Frank. Something's going on.

He took our money?

It's the guy himself walking up to you, saying:

I call him up, I tell him I wanna buy some drugs.

"Okay, I'll sell you the drugs. How much drugs do you want?"

Goddamn Checkers Local always acting like you're the king of everything and shit.

That still is no excuse.

You keep us guessing, don't you, Stan?

For your information...

-Who? -White boys.

Okay. Y'all have a good one.

So that's overtime, right?

See if you can get his ass out of that chair.

-Bring her in the boat? -Hell, no.