going into
the gym business.
That doesn't mean you boys
aren't welcome back here.
Hell, we'll put you all
on a program.
Help you take care of
those love handles...
of yours there, Walter Jr.
Hey, now, quit it!
And that's it, huh?
Jabo, have you thought about
building a skinny high-rise?
Or maybe a little fat, short,
squatty one around my place.
Look, two months from now,
you're gonna get tired...
of playing
with all these toys.
You're gonna crawl to us
to bail your ass out.
Maybe.
But for now,
I like it down here.
Let me set something straight.
From now on...
you do your business
on the other side of town.
You listen to me, hear?
What's he doing?
Posing.
You think that's funny?
That's funny.
No, that's funny.
- Dear nephew...
- You'll see.
You may not have become
the Blake we anticipated...
but you are definitely
Craig Blake...
an identity that no one
will dare challenge.
Musclemen amok in the town
your forebears built.
A formidable achievement.
Fondly, Uncle Albert.
Well, it's a sold house,
William.
Dear Uncle Albert...
"Do it unsparingly,"
you once said...
and so I have.
I asked William
if he would like to stay on...
with the new owners...
but he feels
that way of life...
is as much behind him
as it is for me.
He's opened a thrift shop
downtown...
using the more salable
objects from the house...
with which
to build his trade.
Found us a spot
down by the river.
- William!
- Yes, sir?
We offered him
a guest membership at the spa...
but he contends
that massage, rays...
weight training,
and the like...
would send him
to an early grave.
I think in some
very special way...
William's approval
means more to me...
than anyone else's
in the family.
Give us a hug here.
Come on down the spa
sometime, William.
It seems strange to be leaving
the house I was born in.
But I think we both know
I left a long time ago.
I simply neglected
to move out.
Squirrels abound where Mary Tate
and I will be living...
so come spy on them.
And us.
Your most loving nephew,
Craig.