Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Jack, Jack. You're a sick son of a bitch.

♪ Well, ya play that tarantella ♪

If I'm crazy or lyin', you don't lose nothin'.

But I'm gonna just say no.

I've had it with you and your fuckin' stupid radio shows.

Man, I'm here with my girlfriend.

♪ Stazybo horn and a Slingerland ride ♪

All right. Shit.

- Bob, it tastes like a tire. - Yeah. I know, is very good.

"Robertino, vieni qua. Robertino, come on."

My lawyer told me that when I was gonna skip bond.

But just hear me out, see my little gift...

♪ It's raining so hard ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah ♪♪

♪Just make sure she's all in calico and the color of a doll ♪

Yes, taste it. Taste, Zack, taste. Eh?

And where do you go now?

She said she didn't know.

♪ I guess I'll just go crazy tonight ♪

My last walk out was like, "Hey, L.C., how you doin', man?"

Man, haven't we been here before?

♪ And just let me fall out of the window ♪

or do you say in English, "I looka out the window"?

This prison's not here. These bunks aren't here.

Well, we're gonna have to keep going.

- Zack. - And, uh, take care.

I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream.

You said you liked it there, remember?

- Hook him up. - Oh, hook him up.

It's like music I never heard before.

Isolina, and my father, Gigi, and my sisters Bruna, Albertina, e Anna.

I have catched the rabbit... dinner. For dinner.

He was a very cynical man.

♪ Edna Million in a drop-dead suit ♪

But do you have some cigarette?

You are not the only innocent asshole in here.

We gotta do it.

Oh, I see. Just in between owners.

Look, man, don't matter to me.

Then I might think about it.

I take one ball - a number eight. Very good ball. Black ball.

- So, Bob - - Yes?

And she's waiting there for you, Jack.

- Robert Frost. - Right.

That's all they really want, you know.

Well, Bob should come in handy there. He speaks good restaurant English.

Cigarettes won't help with hiccups. Not in this country.

the Tigris-Euphrates River Valley...

- I'll be back in a couple of hours. - Man, come on.

Then we're gonna have Jack Romano for dinner.

Guard! Guard! Guard! Guard! Guard! Guard! Guard!

The name of my mother. With rosmarino -

I'm Jack. Get it straight.

But I know about you, Jack.

- No, that I might believe. - Oh, Jack, be serious, man.

Yes. I have read only your poets in Italian.

I guess it's over between us, Laurette.