The Sopranos (1999–2007): Season 6, Episode 17 - Walk Like a Man - full transcript

What are you doing up so early?

I couldn't sleep.

You want breakfast?

- Yeah, all right.
- Anthony.

- What?
- I am making French toast.

I'm not hungry. Jesus,
how many times you gonna ask me?

You've heard the term comfort food.
Maybe it'll make you feel better.

This is hard for you to believe...

but food may not be
the answer to every problem.

Neither is acting
like a whiny little bitch.

- Tony.
- I'll eat at work, okay?

My shitty-ass pizza job.

If it's so horrible, take a day off.

My fiancée left me.

That job is all I have in my life.

It's better to have loved and lost, A.J.

- What?
- It is.

I feel bad for him, but what the fuck?
Why's he gotta take it out on us?

I'm looking for a miter saw.

I got the Makita,
carbide blade, laser guide.

- Lists for six, 200.
- Sold.

- Mike, you got that? The Makita.
- Yeah.

Cheese it. It's the off-duty cops.

You know my son-in-law Chris,
the movie producer?

- How you doing?
- Let me know about that ticket.

- It's squashed, forget it.
- Thanks.

How you doing?
How's my little girl?

- Good. You coming Sunday, right?
- Yeah. Two o'clock, she said.

Here, that's for you.

Tell your friend Paulie
to keep these power tools coming.

Madon,
flying off the shelves, huh?

You ain't seen this many cops lined up
since the centennial of Dunkin' Donuts.

They're all handymen.

They got side jobs so they can afford
those 18-foot bass boats.

Cataldo, that state trooper, he's putting
a drop ceiling in my basement.

- Thanks, sweetie.
- Sure.

Twelve K in there. I took my cut.
I'm seeing Al again next week.

- To business.
- You're gonna jinx me?

Toast with water?

It's club soda. What's your problem?

You got the problem, my friend.
You're a real fucking drip lately.

When I was using, I was a disgrace.
Now I'm sober, I'm a drip.

- The fuck you want from me?
- How's about being normal?

- That so fucking hard?
- Actually, yeah, Paulie...

for some of us it is.

Don't get cunty.
I'm breaking your balls.

What do you say we take a ride?
Little prime rib? On me.

Maybe next time.

You watching
your cholesterol now too?

Yeah, you're fucking hilarious.

Hey, Tony. What's the good word?

- Can't complain.
- Sure you could. Phil Leotardo.

My first assignment
out of the Academy was in Brooklyn.

Never cared for him.

He tried to set up this other rookie,
female, for rape and beating.

Listen, that subject we talked about...

if I was to know something
possibly terror-related...

and help you out,
could I bank the resulting goodwill?

Well, what happens is...

I would personally write you
what's called a 5K letter.

It's a document setting forth
your cooperation and service.

This letter would be placed
in your file...

and if you were ever
convicted of a crime...

it'd be presented to a judge...

when he or she would be
considering sentencing guidelines.

Well, there were a couple of guys,
I don't know, Arabs, Arabians maybe.

They used to hang around the Bing,
and somebody I knew...

may have did some business
with them.

At the port?

- You were saying.
- The point is, they used to be around...

all the time, these two, drinking and
trying to tit-fuck the girls, whatever.

And then suddenly, they disappeared,
and I mean completely.

And then a week or so ago,
I'm driving, and I see them...

with these other guys...

with the headgear and the beard
and the whole fundamental bit.

But there's nothing
illegal there, right?

What were they doing?

Walking.

But then they meet up
with this other group and...

- I don't know, it seemed...
- You got a name?

One was named Ahmad
or Jamal or...

Hold on, hold on.

- Hey, T.
- Yeah, I'm here with some people...

and the Arabs from the Bing,
what were their names?

- Some people?
- Exactly.

Oh, fuck, yeah,
Ahmed and Muhammed.

- What'd they do?
- Ahmed and Muhammed.

You know, actually,
I got a cell number.

I called him recently,
but he don't answer no more.

Ahmed al Najafi.

973-555-0146.

Ahmed al Najafi.

Tell me they're not gonna blow up
the chemical plant or some shit.

I don't know. I'll call you later.

- Cell phone.
- That's a real prize.

Thank you.

So finally I said:

"Okay, you know, as long as
you don't mind yesterday's pizza."

"No, no," he said, "it's cool."

So "great," I told him.
"Come back tomorrow."

You are so bad.

- Hey. Good.
- Hey, how you doing?

- They add your overtime?
- Yeah, thank you.

- Who's that?
- I don't know. Some guy.

- What, are you going out with him?
- He smiled, Anthony. He works here.

- You gotta stop.
- Or what?

Or I won't see you again.

Like meeting me for coffee
is such a big deal.

Honestly, I don't even think
it's a good idea anyway.

- How come?
- Because last time you started crying...

and had to leave the Starbucks.

I can't sleep at night
without you.

It'll get better, okay?

I love you so much.

I gotta go back to work.

Stop. You're embarrassing me.

You knock off early,
we go back to your place...

christen those new sheets
you were telling me about.

- Man with the plan, huh?
- The man with the erection.

Let me take this.

- Hey.
- It's me.

I need you to come home. It's A.J.

- What happened?
- I am worried, Tony.

I have never seen him like this.

I have to meet the realtor
to see a new property...

but I am afraid
to leave him alone.

- Afraid, why?
- Will you just come home, please?

Go away.

It's me.

What's the matter?

- What happened?
- You know what happened.

Blanca still.

All right, that's it. Enough's enough.

Look, I'm fucking depressed, okay?

You broke up.
How long you wanna cry about it?

She was my life.

You're 20 years old. You barely have
a life, and you're better off anyway.

She was cute, okay, but come on.
With another guy's kid to boot.

She was the best thing
that ever happened to me.

What you're going through,
what you're feeling right now...

it happens sometimes.

Everybody gets the blues.

There's a half a billion dollar
industry devoted to it.

- What, Prozac?
- No, the music business.

They write thousands
of songs about this shit.

"Tears on My Pillow,"
"Mona Lisa," right?

Listen, these fucking women...

they'll drive you nuts
with your emotions and whatnot.

And I know it feels like you're never
gonna love anybody again.

But trust me, there's millions
of girls out there...

that are dying to meet a guy like you.
I see them every day.

- Oh, right, I'm so special.
- You're damn right you are.

You're handsome and smart
and a hard worker...

and, let's be honest, white.
That's a huge plus nowadays.

Go out and get a blowjob.

- I don't want a blowjob.
- Keep your voice down.

- Why? Who's listening out there?
- Nobody.

Oh, fuck me!

You saw her again, didn't you?

I knew it.

I don't wanna talk about it.

I love you, Anthony.
It's killing me to see you like this.

What's the fucking point?

- Point of what?
- Just leave me alone.

Honestly, I was glad
when they broke up.

The culture divide. But now...

Everything turns to shit.

- Hi.
- Hi.

- Thank you so much for inviting us.
- Sure.

I'm so nervous cooking
for all these people.

Dad, do you remember
Tony's sister Barbara?

- Of course.
- Hi, nice to see you.

- Her husband, Tom, Stefan, Alyssa.
- Hi. This is for you.

- Oh, thank you.
- And the baby.

Come in. Come in.

- Oh, look at the baby.
- Very sweet.

- Can I play the Xbox?
- What happened to folding the napkins?

- How you holding up?
- I'm totally freaking.

I gotta take the ziti out.

Hit open.

- You okay, T? You having a good time?
- Yeah.

So it could be good.
Got a lot of money in this.

Oh, look at that wrist action.

All those years yanking it
finally starting to pay off.

- That non-alcoholic shit any good?
- It's all right.

Less filling, tastes like ass.

This is nice. About time
you invited everybody over.

It was Kelli's idea.
She's been wanting...

to get her teeth wet
with the entertaining.

- Good thing, else I'd never see you.
- What are you talking about?

- Steak's done.
- You think so?

It keeps cooking
even if it's off the flame...

the juices.

All right, so, what's up with you?
You've been like a ghost lately.

You're around one second,
next you're gone.

- I was by the Bing the other day.
- For like five minutes.

You of all people should understand
how hard it is...

for me to be around that place.

- I should? Why?
- Because you're in therapy.

You understand
the human condition, at least.

- Still doing that?
- Turn those ribs.

Truth is, between the booze
and the strippers over there...

half of them are fucking cokeheads,
it's hard, you know?

And Satriale's,
that fridge full of beer...

Know how tough it is to eat a sausage
and peppers without a cold one?

So then just quit.
You want a beer, too bad.

- Show some balls.
- I got balls.

I can't eat eggplant no more
because of my stomach.

Might put me into a relapse.

Now, believe me, I'd like to,
but I don't.

- It's not that simple.
- Well, make it simple.

It's a disease. I inherited it. You know
the problem with my mother.

I gotta be honest. This whole
disease concept, I think it's bullshit.

So you know more than
the leading scientists?

- I know a crutch when I see it.
- So my dad?

You obviously must have knew
he had a crutch.

- What the fuck are you talking about?
- Come on, Ton, huh?

Between the coke, the vodka,
whatever the fuck else...

he was squirting up his arm...

let's be honest
about the great Dickie Moltisanti.

My dad, your hero...

wasn't much more
than a fucking junkie.

- Hey, don't fucking move.
- Whoa, whoa, Al, whoa, whoa.

- Easy, easy.
- What the fuck is going on?

Paulie, remember? Germani. We met
at your granddaughter's christening.

The fuck are you doing?

- My uncle didn't call you?
- No.

- Who's your uncle?
- Paulie Gualtieri.

These are for his friend
down at the union.

What union?

He was supposed to call you.
You fucking believe this?

Al, this is a big fucking mix-up.
I thought Paulie called you.

- The guy's waiting.
- So you break in?

I got a silent alarm
goes right to my house.

He'll take care of you. Don't worry.

- Let me talk to my son-in-law.
- Chris?

Fine by me, but if I were you, I wouldn't
make a problem where there ain't one.

- Take over, okay, Felix?
- What'd you do?

- I'm leaving.
- Who?

I'm going home. I quit.

Why'd you do that?

- If Dale calls, just tell him I'm sorry.
- But you're the manager.

- Ton, hey.
- Hey.

- How you doing?
- This always helps.

God bless the NFL.

I'll tell you,
I owe a spot of it to my son.

I was against this kid
even going to college.

But once him and Carlo's kid
started taking action on campus...

far as I'm concerned,
he should stay till he gets a Ph.D.

Benefits of a higher education.

Yeah, don't get me wrong,
he's learning stuff too.

The shit this kid
knows about computers...

He set his mother up with a whole
Web site for her ceramics business.

- You must be very proud.
- Believe me, I thank God every day.

I gotta take a leak.

Okay.

Parisi the younger. I was just talking
to your dad about you.

Oh, yeah? What'd I do now?

To hear him tell it,
you're the golden boy.

- Hey, Ton.
- What the fuck's with you?

Root canal. They got me on oxycodone.
My whole fucking head is numb.

Well, that answers
a lot of questions.

What the fuck are you laughing at?

I'll see you inside, Ton.
I got something for you.

- So how's Rutgers?
- You see those envelopes?

Majoring in cash, minoring in ass.

Things change, huh?

When I was in college,
it wasn't much with the sports betting.

- Hey, how's A.J. doing?
- Good, good.

He's working.
Broke up with that girlfriend of his.

That Spanish chick? He took her
to my cousin Angela's wedding.

- She was smoking, that girl.
- Yeah, yeah, you know, whatever.

He didn't wanna get too serious.

Fuck, Jay, check it out.

Holy shit.

So Sil tells me you booked
a party here next week.

- Yeah, yeah, it's our frat.
- You should call A.J.

He's probably busy,
but I know he'd love to see you guys.

- Yeah, sure, absolutely.
- Yeah. Definitely, absolutely.

- Who is it?
- Me.

- How you doing, kid?
- What the fuck, Paulie?

I left you four messages.

My flight was delayed.
I just got home.

And I've been dealing with Al
for two days.

Just tell him to relax.

They busted into his store.
His acid reflux is acting up.

He woke up Kelli, got her all upset.

It's my fault
your father-in-law's a crybaby?

They told him I'd take care of him.

- What's his problem?
- I'm stupid now?

You know and I know
they were there to boost that shit.

It couldn't wait. I promised a load
to Lenny down the joint-fitters union.

What do I give a fuck?
It ain't my union.

Lower your voice. Neighbors.

Fuck your neighbors.
When you gonna pay?

When you suck the money
out of my ass.

Now get the fuck out.

Add three more MRis and you're looking
at a 10 percent increase across...

- Listen, I gotta talk to you.
- Now?

- It can't wait, T. This fucking Paulie.
- What happened?

He sent his idiot nephew and Jason
Molinaro to my father-in-law's store.

They boosted a pallet
of power saws.

- They did?
- Yeah.

Not exactly. Al caught them
while they were there.

So they did
or did not take the saws?

They did, under false pretense.

This is what you couldn't wait
to talk to me about?

- They broke into the guy's store, T.
- Yeah, I hear you. I get it.

But we're talking about an ongoing...

potentially multimillion-dollar
proposition here, Christopher.

It ain't the money, Ton.

Oh, really?
Well, I'm glad you feel that way.

A pallet of drills.
You believe this shit?

Go have a lime rickey or whatever the
fuck it is you're drinking these days...

- and we'll be done in a few minutes.
- Forget it, all right? I got other shit to do.

Come in.

I need to talk to you guys.

What's the matter? Finn?

What? No.

It's not about me. A.J.

- What about him?
- I know he's upset...

but he's been saying some things
that are really disturbing.

- Like what?
- Like nobody gives a shit about him.

What's the point of anything?
Stuff like that.

I told you about that girl, Hadley,
in my dorm sophomore year...

the one who threw herself off
the library balcony.

These are the exact
kind of things she was saying.

I don't mean to get you all upset,
it's just...

No, of course not.
I'm glad you said something.

- Good night.
- Good night, sweetie.

And get some sleep.

No arguing.

It's not your company office on here.

I'm just a guy
looking to punch you in the mouth.

Oh, you can take a punch.

I guess we knew that already,
didn't we?

You can actually land a punch too.

- You're pretty good, Huey.
- Nice.

Against a 36-year-old
out-of-shape lieutenant.

I came here today to tell you...

in all seriousness,
that I'm done.

I did what you said.

I gave it a lot of thought...

and I decided that once and for all,
it's over.

The truth is, this therapy is a jerk-off.

You know it, and I know it.

I actually don't know it,
but please continue.

- It's a jerk-off.
- Yes, you've said that.

Anyway, I was coming here to quit.

Had it all planned out.
But guess what.

My son is talking suicide.

- So now I'm trapped here forever.
- My God, what did he say?

His girlfriend, fiancée, whatever,
she broke up with him.

He's beyond devastated.

Would you like me to recommend
someone for him to talk to?

Carmela's getting a referral
from his own pediatrician.

After that incompetent
you sent Meadow to?

So I suppose now comes
the inherent fucking grilling...

- about how I feel about all this.
- Isn't that why you're here?

You know, friends of mine,
they got sons his age...

and they're happy, ambitious.

They fucking take life as it comes.

I know it seems that way, but do you
really know these other boys?

I know what I see,
my son curled up on the couch...

in a fetus position when
he should be out banging coeds.

- Have you talked to him?
- Till I'm blue in the face.

We both have, and now we're afraid
to talk to him...

because of what he might do.

Obviously, I'm prone to depression...

a certain bleak attitude
about the world...

but I know I can handle it.

Your kids though...

It's like when they're little,
and they get sick...

you'd give anything in the world
to trade places with them...

so they don't have to suffer.

- And then to think you're the cause of it.
- How are you the cause of it?

It's in his blood,
this miserable fucking existence.

My rotten, fucking, putrid genes
have infected my kid's soul.

That's my gift to my son.

I know this is difficult...

but I'm very glad
we're having this discussion.

Really? Really, because I gotta
be honest, I think it fucking sucks.

- What does?
- Therapy, this. I hate this fucking shit.

Seriously,
we're both adults here, right?

So after all is said and done...

after all the complaining and
the crying and all the fucking bullshit...

is this all there is?

Yes, welcome.

Hi, I'm Chris.
I'm an alcoholic and drug addict.

Hi, Chris.

I wanna go back to what Stan said,
how not being able to socialize...

is hard when you're a salesman.

In my case, it's the same thing.

It's actually taking food
out of my daughter's mouth.

My boss, you know,
for all his bullshit encouragement...

how he respects what I'm doing,
the reality is he resents my sobriety.

I had the same thing at Unicor.

They were
all on board for the intervention...

but skip one golf outing
and you're ostracized.

He's an enabler too, this guy,
the worst fucking kind.

Pours you a drink with one hand,
judges you with the other if you take it.

He wonders why I'm distant,
at least he says he does...

why I wanna branch out.
But I can promise you...

I'd have more money in my pocket,
plus more responsibility...

if I sat with him drinking...

watching that Scotch
drool out of his fat fucking mouth.

Embedded that dream
into our culture, right...

Hey.

Turn up the metabolic heat
with a Fahrenheit of...

- What are you watching?
- Nothing.

Oh, whoa, that's a good one.
John Wayne.

Two Jasons call you?
Invite you to a party tomorrow night?

- I don't know.
- Well, either they did or they didn't.

Yeah, I guess. Jason Gervasi called.

- What'd you tell him?
- I didn't call him back.

How come?

Because I don't wanna go.

Of course not. Beer, strippers...

fucking around
with guys your own age...

you hate all that shit.

- You gonna call him?
- I said I don't wanna go.

I know you don't wanna go.

You don't wanna work,
you don't wanna eat...

you don't wanna talk either.

So all that being the case,
you're gonna shower tomorrow night...

you're gonna shave, you're gonna
get dressed...

you're gonna go to that party.

And I'm not gonna debate you on this.

Fine.

Mr. Larkin, just how soon before
they'll attempt to blow this fire out?

They won't try to kill it
till they're ready to cap the well.

Your boss is your uncle?

Once removed.

That's gotta add to the source.

We used to be so tight.

And producing movies
is high-stress enough.

I have a happy marriage.

But there was a woman...

She worked with us
in a club we had.

Anyway, she became a problem
to deal with...

and I sided with him.

She was out of my life.

Okay, fine.
But he never appreciated it.

Give, give, give, it's all I ever do.

I think that's when the relationship
between me and him got poisoned.

Jeremy, you got all of them?

- Yeah.
- Let's go.

How's it going? Al here?

You just missed him. He went
to lunch. Can I help you fellas?

- We're here for the drills.
- What drills?

You know, in the back.

I know what you mean, but Al didn't
say nothing about picking anything up.

This fucking guy.
Get him on the phone.

- All right.
- What's your name?

- Me? I'm Mike.
- Paulie.

Nice to meet you.

- Voice mail.
- Here, give me that.

Yeah, Al, it's Paulie.
Listen, we're here with Mike.

We're gonna take the drills.
I'll call you later about that other order.

Let's go.

What's her name?

Blanca.

Had you and Blanca
been engaged long?

Only a couple of weeks.

She had a son too,
from when she used to be married.

What do you think went wrong?

Her husband was an asshole,
supposedly.

With your relationship?

I don't know. I mean,
I wish there was a reason...

but she says there isn't.

I think maybe it's because...

we have way more money
in my family than hers.

They're immigrants,
and that might have scared her.

Have you been
feeling suicidal, Anthony?

A little bit.

Have you ever tried to kill yourself?

No.

I mean, once, me and my friends
jumped off my garage roof...

but, you know,
that was just to fool around.

You sleeping a lot?

I'm tired, but I keep waking up.

Nightmares?

I just keep thinking about her.

I mean, it hurts, but I can't help it.

Does anything in life
give you pleasure lately?

I don't know.

Not really.

There's a medication called Lexapro.
It's an antidepressant.

I have friends who take that.

Well, I'm going to write you
a prescription.

I'm making mad fucking money, bro.

I gotta shut my phone off sometimes.
You should totally do it, man.

I'm not really good with betting
and percentages.

I got like a 450 on my math SAT.

Fuck that shit, bro.
I could hook you up in like 10 minutes.

Can I dance for you, baby?

I guess.

Yeah, dude. Yeah.

Yeah.

- Look at this pile of shit.
- Yeah, so get some toilet paper.

- What is that, comedy?
- Actually, yeah.

Come on, what are you gonna do?

Fuck it, I'm all in.

Fucking idiot. Toilet paper?

You fucking cunt.

- Oh, what the fuck?
- Oh, Chris.

You were my friend.

- No!
- No!

Oh, fuck!

Call an ambulance!

Tony, wake up.
I need to talk to you.

What?

You let our underage son
go to a party at a strip club?

What time is it?

Take it easy, will you?
What's the big deal?

He just got in three hours ago.

He is still drunk,
and he's not even drinking age.

Yet he could die in Iraq.

What does that
have to do with anything?

Jesus Christ, Carm,
he's gonna be 21 in two months.

He's an emotional wreck, Tony.

So seeing a pair of tits
is gonna send him over the edge?

Got him out of the house,
around people his own age.

At the fucking Bing?

Well, they're college kids.
It's what they do.

I know you'd rather see him
in his room drinking cocoa...

but this is the way back, believe me.
And the way back to college.

Fraternities, frat boys...

Hey.

I did a stupid thing, Ton.
I won't deny it.

Stupid? Just hung up with Paulie.
His nephew's got six broken vertebrae.

I know that, and I'm sorry.

But this is the second fucking time
Paulie flouted his authority to my face.

The shit with the tools,
he set up the deal with the Cubans...

but this is my father-in-law
we're talking about, Tony, my family.

This bullshit could have been handled
with a conversation.

I came to the Bing, remember?
I tried to talk to you about it.

And I told you to wait, and you left
to go God knows where.

I gotta be honest,
I can't help thinking...

that this goes directly to what
we talked about more than once.

If you were around more,
finger on the pulse...

problems like this
would be squashed in the womb.

Whether I'm around's
got nothing to do with it.

He needed the tools,
he could have left me a message.

We're supposed
to leave phone messages...

about interstate hijacking now?

How about faxes? E-mails?
Make it even easier for the cops.

This is a face-to-face business,
Christopher.

Yeah, I'll talk to Paulie.

Believe me, there's a few things
that he needs to hear.

You figure out how much he owes for
the tools and we're gonna deduct that...

against what you're gonna owe
for little Paulie's hospital bills.

- Yeah?
- He tore up my lawn, Ton.

Drove his fucking car
right up on the grass.

- Who did?
- Fucking Paulie, who else?

Forty grand in landscaping.
Terrorized my wife and daughter.

Destroyed the bushes, the grass,
and every fucking flower she planted.

- Just relax, okay?
- I am fucking relaxed.

I'm not gonna do nothing.

Because I love you,
because I'm committed to my work...

I ain't gonna do shit.

I'm gonna sit tight and hold my tongue,
and not cause no problems for you.

No, the bad one, '99.

Mets-Braves National League
Championship.

Oh, fucking shit.

My dad went apeshit, man. Threw
a fucking vase right through the TV.

Oh, Victor, what are you doing
at a Zeke party, bro? You settling up?

- Come on, it's Friday. Bills this Sunday.
- What are we, fucking Citibank?

- How long we gonna carry your ass?
- Buffalo's a lock.

Give me a dime at two and a half.

If not, my father's sending
my check this week.

Fuck that. If not, you see this guy
right here? Tony Soprano Jr.

Know what that means, right?

Monday, bro. One way or the other.

Come on, don't be a dick about it.

Is he still sleeping?

He's not home.

He stayed with his friends.

He sounded good.
They were playing cards.

It's been a week almost,
on the meds.

All I know is
it's a pleasure not to have him...

laying around here like a miserab'.

It's companies like Wal-Mart
we gotta thank.

They're always fighting
against tightening imports.

So our provolone, our perfume...

slides right under
the fucking door.

All those inspections
slow down Wal-Mart's operation.

And what about terrorism,
missiles and shit?

There he is, the missing link.

Hey.

- How you doing?
- Good.

I called Sal Vitro like you said.

He's coming by this week,
resod the lawn.

And I talked to Paulie, and
we worked out a payment schedule.

- He here?
- Yeah.

All right. Let me say hello.

Hey.

How you doing, kid?

- How's little Paulie?
- He's fucked up.

He got your flowers though.

Good.

- Listen, Paulie...
- Forget it, okay?

Shit happens. What are you gonna do?
There's no point in ruminating.

You're right.

I just wanted to say I'm sorry.

Me too.

Do this again, sweetie.
And get him a club soda.

You know what? Fuck it.

- Whatever he's having.
- You got it.

Good times.

- Oh, my, that's fucking rocket fuel.
- One more, one more, one more.

- Oh, yeah.
- Let's do it.

- What's going on, baby?
- Nuts.

When, now? Who else is there?

- Let's do it.
- One more. Zeke.

Zeke! Zeke! Zeke!

All right, yeah, no, definitely.
Like 20 minutes.

- Yeah.
- All right, bye.

Yo, Donna Amato, they're having
a party, guess who's over there.

- Victor.
- That welching little prick...

you fucking kidding me?

You wanna come?

Oh, I don't know.
I'm just gonna hang here.

Oh, come on. It'll be fun.

Eleven more credits
and I can transfer to Syracuse.

Their business program is awesome.

Hey, you made it.

- Vic, where are you going, buddy?
- I was just grabbing a beer. What's up?

- Listen, I'm getting your money, okay?
- Cool, great.

Let's take a ride
and talk about that, all right?

Come on, guys, stop.

- What's going on?
- Nothing, we're just fucking around.

No.

- Get in the fucking car.
- No.

Get in the fucking car!

Fucking deadbeat. You know what
happens when you don't fucking pay?

- Stop. Stop.
- What, are you gonna cry?

And what are we,
fucking assholes?

Come on, man, where's the shit?
Help us hold him down.

- Come on.
- Come on.

Get off me.

- No.
- Quit kicking, bitch!

Hey, you ever take chemistry?
Because Dr. Parisi and me...

- we're gonna do an experiment.
- We wanna see what happens...

when you mix sulfuric acid
with toe jam.

Fuck, no! No! No!

Don't! Don't do it! Fuck!

That hurt? You little bitch.

- What's the matter?
- No!

I mean, you have a kid,
and they look at you...

you look back,
and you're looking at yourself, really.

Or part of you
plus another person, that love.

I look at her eyes, man,
and she looks up, back at me...

How the fuck do I put myself
up for adoption?

- What?
- Nothing, go ahead.

- She ain't adopted, Paulie.
- I'm kidding. What were you saying?

My point... What the fuck? My...

It's babies. They're the future.

You realize by the time Caitlin's out
of college, it'll be like the year 2027?

She takes after you, she won't be
out of fourth grade by then.

Of course, by that time, she'll be
working here, so who gives a shit?

- Oh, what are you doing?
- Nothing.

Come on, come on.
We're just fucking around.

Okay. It's late. I gotta go.

- Hello?
- It's me.

- I'm fucking losing it, man.
- Chris, it's eleven-fucking-thirty.

Well, you're awake though, right?
I'm sorry. You sleeping?

I'm working. I'm on a deadline for
Law & Order.

How much did you drink?

- I don't know. A lot.
- I'm gonna make some coffee...

and then
we're gonna call your sponsor.

He's gone. Eddie,
he's away someplace. Philadelphia.

This fucking Paulie, man.

You think he's your friend,
this cocksucker, all these pricks...

What are you doing?

- You're drunk. I'm making coffee.
- I don't want fucking coffee.

It's an urban myth anyway.

- What are you writing?
- Law & Order.

I'll give you stories
make your fucking head curl.

The shit I seen.

- Fuck that, the shit I did personally.
- I don't wanna hear it.

What you need to do is sober up
and get to a meeting.

- That's your fucking answer?
- It is the answer. Work the program.

You know, you're a fucking robot.
Anybody ever tell you that?

You got any fucking emotion in there?

I don't know about you,
but my friends have abandoned me.

I've been totally fucking ostra-fied.

Because when we drink and we use,
we are not pleasant to be around.

My heart's fucking breaking
and you're blowing me off?

You know, my father
fucking abandoned me.

I thought he was shot.

You have any idea, if I wanted,
what I could do to these pricks?

One phone call and it's over.

The whole fucking castle
comes down like Humpty Dumpty.

Do you remember my girlfriend,
Adriana? My fiancée?

My friend Ralph Cifaretto?

- I know shit, my friend.
- Chris, come on.

Serious fucking things
that would have major implications...

- on a lot of fucking people...
- I shouldn't hear this shit.

I know, right, you said. You just wanna
write about it, leech off me.

I'm trying to help you, man.

That fucking program...

the government
has got money to burn.

Gravano was living large
down in Arizona, all on that federal tit.

- All right, let's get you home.
- I like the sun...

be closer to Hollywood anyway.

Give me your phone.
I'm calling your wife.

- What?
- I have told you repeatedly...

I do not wanna hear this shit.

- I let you be part of my movie.
- You let me?

- I'm pouring my heart out, man.
- And I'm very sorry.

- But we met in AA.
- Chris, you're in the Mafia.

Fine.

- Hey.
- Hey.

Early night, huh?

They're slouching up 57th Street, so
next time we're in the city, I wanna go.

What's this? Party time?

Rachael Ray was on Leno. We got
hungry. Sit down, I'll get some plates.

Where were you guys?

- Frat party.
- At a meeting.

- Did you go out tonight?
- I met a friend for coffee.

- That's probably why you're still awake.
- I guess so.

Miss Meadow had a mystery date
she refuses to discuss.

Oh, yeah?

What are you doing? Sit down.

I'm wired. I don't know.

So, what's the mystery?
That you had a date to begin with?

Bite me, okay?