wearing the same shit
from three years ago.
Jake ain't lying, though.
We had a band powerful enough
to turn goat piss into gasoline.
We'll never get that fat sound again
without more horns.
We'll never get Mr Fabulous.
- Where is he?
- Forget it.
Mr Fabulous is the top maitre d'
at the Chez Paul.
He's pullin' down
six bills a week.
- Matt Murphy got married.
- Where is Matt ''Guitar'' Murphy?
He opened a restaurant with his old lady
on Maxwell Street...
and he took Blue Lou with him.
You'll never get Matt and Mr Fabulous
out of them high-paying gigs.
Oh, yeah?
Well, me and the Lord...
we got an understanding.
We're on a mission from God.
Mainly French cuisine.
No, sir. Mayor Daley no longer
dines here. He's dead, sir.
Private dining rooms
are available.
Oh, no. It was supposed to be
five years.
Didn't you get five years?
No, sir, not you.
And your name, sir?
Rizzolo, for eight at 11:30.
thank you.
Mr Fabulous,
how marvelous it is to see you.
- You're looking younger than ever.
- Wait. You guys can't come in here.
Nonsense, my dear fellow.
My brother and I
have come to dine...
to celebrate my early release
from the service of the state.
Wait. Let's talk outside.
- Let's have a cup of coffee outside.
- Why, heavens, no.
We seek a full meal and all
the compliments of the house.
Come, Elwood.
Let us adjourn ourselves
to the nearest table...
and overlook this establishment's
board offare.
Good evening. Chez Paul.
Wait! Hey!
Sir, do you mind calling back
in about five minutes, please?
We'll have a table
in a few moments.
Excuse me.
Give us a bottle
of your finest champagne...
five shrimp cocktails
and some bread for my brother.
We have a Dom Perignon '71
at $120.
That'll be fine, pal.
Seriously, the food here is really
expensive. The soup is fucking $10!
Let's go outside.
I'll buy you a cup of coffee.
We're putting the band
back together.
- Forget it. No way.
- We're on a mission from God.
Hold it. Hold it.
What's this?
Waiter? Sir?
Please, waiter?
Yes, sir? How are your salads?
The salads are fine.
It's just that we'd like
to move to another table...
away from those two gentlemen.
Why? Have they been
disturbing you?
No. It's just that--
Well, frankly,
they're offensive-smelling.
I mean, they smell bad.
Excuse me. I'll see if I can locate
another table for you.
thank you.
Wrong glass, sir.
How much for the little girl?
- The women? How much for the women?
- What?
I want to buy your women.
Your little girl. Your daughters.
Sell them to me.
- Sell me your children.
- Maitre d'!
Cut it out. The owners are gonna
ask me to call the cops.
- You wouldn't do that to me, would you?
- He just got outta Joliet.
He's on parole. You can't
call the cops on him, man.
- We're putting the band back together.
- I said no.
Absolutely not!
How much for your wife?
We're putting the band back together.
We need you, man. We need your horn.
I really can't.
We got everybody except
Matt ''Guitar'' Murphy and Blue Lou.
- We're getting them next.
- No way.
If you say no, Elwood and I
will come here for breakfast...
lunch and dinner
every day of the week.
Okay. I'll play.
You got me.
Sir?
White men!
White women!
The swastika is calling you!
The sacred and ancient symbol
of your race...
since the beginning of time.
The Jew is using the black...
as muscle against you.
And you are left there, helpless.
-Fuck you!
-What are you gonna do about it, withy?
-Just sit there?
- Go back where you came from!
Of course not!
- Son of a bitch!
- You are going to join...
with us...
the members of...
the American Socialist
White People's Party:
an organization of decent...
law-abiding white folk...
just like you.
Go to hell, bastards!
Go to hell!
I pledge allegiance to Adolf Hitler...
the immortal leader of our race.
To the order for which he stands.
One great cause.
Sacred and invincible.
Hey, what's going on?
Those