Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

With everything else going on, it doesn't make sense.
She owns a grocery store a block away from the Belfast clubhouse.
Some kind of corporate interest's coming to buy up the block.
A little stupid.
You, Bobby and Chibs.
She told me Abel's in Belfast.
Let's go.
- All right. You got a PO number? - No, I got nothing.
May I speak with you, please?
But this matter involves the other half of my life.
That hurt? Ah.
What are you doing?
- It's got nothing to do with you. - My club.
Well, then somebody's full of shit.
Juan Carlos, may I assume the stimulants are in your backpack bag?
All right, if you don't get it tomorrow, let me know. Bye.
What happened to Rupert's?
I don't know who the friend is, brother...
What was he wearing?
Right. Uh, they leave a number?
You already know too much.
Trinity, it's me.
Hey, Juice.
All right.
How did you get my address?
The U.S. attorney has refused to honor the deal.
I'll hand deliver Jimmy O'Phelan...
Quite the secret queen lately.
Sorry, baby.
Yeah.
I didn't tell them anything.
We'll get Gemma to reach out.