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This is it.
Hey, Chili. Get the coat.
Just don't piss the guy off, okay?
Then we're gonna have to call Momo
and straighten the whole thing out.
And Momo'll be pissed off for wasting
his time. We don't need that, eh?
Don't worry. I'm not saying
any more than I have to, if that.
Yeah, yeah.
Just a minute.
What!
Are you fucking nuts?
My nose!
My nose!
Holy shit!
Somebody call 9-fucking-1-1 !
Somebody call 9-fucking-1-1 !
What do you want me to do?
Go to war over a fucking coat?
You're lucky
the guy didn't kill you.
The coat was a Christmas present,
for chrissakes.
Listen to me, Jimmy.
You gotta do something about this guy.
He's running amok.
He's got no fucking respect
for none of us.
He's got no respect for you.
I don't got to do shit.
Chili Palmer don't work for me.
He works for Momo
up in Brooklyn.
As long as Momo's around,
nothing happens to Chili Palmer.
Do you understand?
Over here.
We're here, Momo.
I hope you checked this place out good,
'cause I'm going in there alone...
and I don't want
no fucking surprises.
I checked everything, Momo.
Who is it?
It's Momo.
Get in here.
Surprise!
So you're trying to say
you're never going to sleep again?
No, I said I'm never going to bed.
There's a difference.
This article says
that most people die in their beds.
As long as I stay
out of bed, I'm safe.
What? That's the dumbest thing I ever
heard of. Where you gonna sleep?
In my recliner.
You know, the tan one in the TV room?
Or I'll go to a coffee shop,
slide into a booth, pull my hat down.
How many people you know
died in a coffee shop?
You cut straight hair in here
or just fags?
Hey, Bones. That's quite a scar
you got on your head.
Why don't you have these guys fit you
with a rug, cover it up for you?
You two geezers
take your game to the park.
This man is the man. You understand
what I'm saying, motherfucker?
He's Mr. Bones,
and you speak to Mr. Bones from now on.
You can do better
than him, can't you?
Not these days.
Not unless you speak Spanish.
You got a miss.
Leo Devoe. He's six weeks over.
He's dead.
How do you know?
Did he tell you?
Yeah, he told me
that he was dead.
Personally?
Yeah, he personally told me
he got killed...
in that getaway jet crash
that happened a month ago.
Maybe he took out flight insurance.
Check with his wife.
You check it out.
It's your book now.
He owns some dry cleaning store
over on Federal Highway.
Let me explain something to you.
Momo is dead.
Which means everything he had now
belongs to Jimmy Capp, including you.
Which also means that when I speak,
I speak for Jimmy.
E.g., from now on, you start showing me
the proper fucking respect.
E.g. means ''for example.''
I think you want to say ''i.e.''
-Bullshit. It's short for ''ergo.''
-Ask your man.
To the best of my knowledge,
e.g. means ''for example.''
E.g., i.e., fuck you!
The point is: When I say, ''Jump...''
you say, ''Okay!''
Okay?
-Yeah. Okay.
-All right.
You owe me the dry cleaner's 15 G's
plus the juice...
which is another...
2,700.
Get it from his wife or out of
your own pocket. I don't give a fuck.
But you never hand me a book
with a miss.
We'll see you, Ray.
Go see the dry cleaner's wife.
You got three days.
I told you not to piss him off.
Don't say another fucking word.
All right?
I hate the dry cleaning business.
I hate being inside all day
around all those machines.
Must be hot.
You have no idea how hot it is.
You know, Fay, I was wondering...
did Leo have life insurance?
I don't know of any.
I trust you, Chili.
I think you're a decent type of man.
Even if you are a crook.
Thank you. Thank you, Fay.
I wish he really was dead.
He's a son of a bitch.
That's him, all right.
Called himself ''Larry De Mille.''
Hit on every showgirl in town.
Tell them he was the ''Martinizing King''
of Miami. What a moron!
He's in L.A.
Put him on a plane.
He spanked one of my cocktail girls.
Leo spanked her?
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