right?
Now, what I need you to do,you get me information on the
people who were with you last night.
Your crew. Get me social security
numbers, get me full names...
Get you? Give you?
Who the fuck do you work for?
- All right, all
right. Frank, Frank...
What? What?
All right I'm sorry.
If you could please,
what I need are S.S.
numbers, D.O.B's,
just all the pedigree information so
I can run it on my end
and we can ID the prick.
If you can just get me that
information, what I can do is:
I can just run... we're gonna
handle it, I can handle it.
Colly, Colly, calm down or
you'll shoot in your pants.
I'll get you the records or whatnot.
But listen to me, son?
Don't dissapoint me on this,
or some other guy will
be putting their fat cock
up little Miss Freud's ass.
How are you, Francis?
- My mother called me Francis.
- I know she did.
And your father
called you the Tumor.
And what did your
father call you, Charlie?
Oh yeah. I forgot. He wasn't around.
You have a boss who
has a laryngectomy?
No, no, that was a
guy who works for me.
You're lying to me.
Not exactly.
What did you do with the real
microprocessors, Frank?
Microprocessors? Oh yeah.
I heard the story.
You arrested some Chinese
government guys at the border
carrying some light
sockets or something.
I can't wait to wipe that fuckin'
smirk right off from your face.
Would you rather wipe my ass for me?
...but there are certain
parts of my job,
that I'm not gonna be
able to talk to you about
and I cannot allow you to jeopardise
ongoing investigation or your life.
No, really there are things, you
don't even wanna know about.
- Ok then just say that.
- All right, I will.
- That's the movers.
- Yeah, you still wanna stay?
Yes. Yeah?
C'mon, I'm coming!
It's the worst timing.
I'm gonna get you.
If you coulda, you woulda.
But I guess you like to
go at your own pace.
'Scuse me. Got a date
with some angels.
You take off in an armored car at
the mall, what the fuck you do?
- You pay guineas in Providence?
- Fuckin' now I do.
What the fuck you do?
What, I gotta pay Costello, and wait
for him to trade me to the FBI?
'Cause that's what he does.
FBI? What the fuck you
talkin' about FBI?
Oh my God, is that French out there?
What the fuck did you
just say about the FBI, huh?
Forget what I said,
I'm fuckin' high.
Whatever maybe going on
in that very fuckin' poor
very limited brain of yours,
I am not gonna hurt you,
all right? Just tell me what
you just fuckin' said.
Forget it, I'm high.
I'm fuckin' high.
I must be high, I would never
say what you thought I said.
- Owww! Fuck! - Now! What the fuck
did you just say?
Why do you think he
never gets busted?
Costello is a
protected FBI informant.
He'll trade you out!
I thought I was supposed
to go into shock!
I'm not in shock. It
fuckin' hurts! It fuckin' hurts!
Hey, it's me.
- There's some ice water.
- Thanks.
That's my son, Patrick.
Goes to Notre Dame.
My wife's asleep, but she left some
supper out. Want something to eat?
- No, thanks.
- Yeah, c'mon, you have some supper,
we'll talk in the kitchen.
Come on.
Want some coke?
Here it is.
Don't move 'til you're numb.
C'mon inside.
Boss wants your real name.
Your social and license number,
your bank account numbers.
I don't have a bank account.
- I'm a cash user myself.
- What's he doing? Seing up I.R.A.'s.
Just fill the fucking paper in.
Your real name and
all your account numbers.
- Then we'll wait here.
- You shittin' me?
No, I ain't.
Put the forms is there.
I don't know if this is how you spell
citizens. But... fuck it, you know?
No, no, no, give me that.
What, are you fuckin'
retarded or something?
That ain't fuckin' right.
Are you kidding me? Lookit
this! Look! Citizens. Look.
Billy you have to stay here.
Yeah? I'm not sitting here
without getting a tetanus shot.
- Where the fuck you goin'?
- I'm not stayin' all right?
You can tell him I said