Cat's Eye Page #3

No, I gave those babies up.

Ding-ding, the smoking lamp is lit.

Dickie.

Shove it up your ass, Hal.

What? Lit?

Sh*t!

Cindy!

Cindy!

Cindy?

Hello, Mr. Morrison.

It seems we have

some business to attend to.

Will 5:
00 be all right?

It was just a slip, Mr. Donatti.

It was just a little slip. I mean, really.

I swear it won't happen again.

It's funny, it didn't even taste good.

-I'll count on you for 5:00, shall I?

-Look, Mr. Donatti--

Donatti!

Son of a b*tch! Where's my wife, you turd?

Hello, Mr. Morrison.

He got smart with his fists.

Unfortunately he's got dumb fists.

Where's Cindy?

Junk, you idiot!

Oh, fiddly sticks!

Here, kitty, kitty.

Here, kitty, kitty.

Forget the cat, you hemorrhoid!

Get the gun!

Get up, Mr. Morrison.

Let's not have any more of this foolishness.

I understand your agitation.

It will not be held against you.

-At least not by me.

-Please, Mr. Donatti.

You be a good boy, Mr. Morrison,

and don't provoke Junk again.

I will make this as brief as possible.

Your wife will not be hurt, this time.

Watch him, Junk.

Remember, it's just like

getting a shot at the doctor's office.

Would you stop it? You're killing her!

Take it easy, Mr. Morrison. She'll be fine.

I think you got some explaining to do.

Don't you?

Ain't you going to turn the sound up?

There's no reason to.

When you've been in the business as

long as I have, you get to know every line.

In 30 seconds she'll either squeeze him

hard enough to give him a hernia...

...or she'll slap him in the face

and walk out.

-$10 says that she slaps him.

-You're on.

Oh, darn.

No, no.

That's eight pounds in six months.

I don't think that's so bad.

An ounce of prevention

is worth a pound of cure.

73 percent of our clients get a weight

problem when they quit smoking.

I want you to get dressed,

and you and I will have a talk.

Junk, you think eight pounds

is bad in six months?

I think it's great.

So remember...

...some of these diet pills are illegal,

so use them sparingly.

I'm setting your maximum weight

at 165 pounds.

If I go over, you'll send a guy

to my house with a flamethrower?

I'll send a guy to your house

and cut off your wife's little finger.

-You kill me.

-Have a good day, Dick.

Cut off my wife's little finger.

Sorry to keep you waiting.

I think a toast is in order,

a toast is in order.

No throwing the glasses in the fireplace,

we don't want to wake the kids.

The ladies are entitled

to break their glasses.

To Quitters Incorporated.

To Quitters Incorporated.

To Quitters Incorporated.

To Quitters Incorporated.

Go on, scat! Go on.

Come on, Darcy, it's Gobbler time.

You just sit right there.

Gobblers is all that Darcy eats

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