Brooklyn Rules Page #5

A makeup-

I'm already studying for the final.

This is bullshit.

You lose my exam, and it's my fault?

How do you think that you did?

Frankly, sir, it's not how I think I did.

I know I got an "A".

I ain't never studied so hard in my life.

Well, how about this?

Um...

If it doesn't turn up,

We'll let the final count for your entire grade.

All right, but do me a favor.

When you're grading the final, bear in mind

I got an "A" on your midterm.

Hm.

Hey!

- Hi.

- Hey.

- How you doin'?

- Good.

Michael.

We're in poli-sci together.

Right, sure.

I'm Ellen.

Yeah, I know.

So Foster lost my test.

Do you believe that?

Incredible, huh?

So you live in the city?

East side.

What about you?

Brooklyn for right now,

But I'm thinking of moving,

the village, maybe.

Cool.

I love it down there.

Hm.

Listen,

would you like to have a drink?

What, like, right now?

I was thinking this weekend, you know,

Saturday, maybe.

But now is good too.

Actually, my birthday is this weekend.

Oh, hey, happy birthday.

Thanks.

I'm having a party on Saturday.

You're welcome to come.

It's at addiction in tribeca.

Yeah, yeah, sure.

I go there all the time.

Great margaritas.

Right.

Excuse me.

So I'll see you on Saturday then?

Any time after 9:00 is good.

Yeah, great.

Happy thanksgiving.

Thanks. You too.

This is Bobby's house,

But for all intents and purposes,

It was mine too.

I never really knew my dad,

and my mom died when I was 17.

The Canzoneris were like family.

That's Bobby's mom,

hands-down the worst cook in Brooklyn.

Compared to her lasagna,

a bowl of sh*t would taste like Haagen-Dazs.

Aunt Louise:

The most depressing woman in the world.

She wouldn't be happy

sitting in the lap of Jesus.

Bobby's dad:

though he was born and raised

right here in Brooklyn,

this man has done more

to mangle the English language than ebonics.

It's march of the wooden soldiers.

Change it back.

Friggin' dog, get up!

- Teresa!

- What?

He's pissin' the carpet again.

He's incompetent!

It's incontinent, John.

Oh, who gives a sh*t?

Bless us, o lord,

for these five gifts

which we are about to receive

from thy boundaries,

through Christ, our lord.

Amen.

Those kids,

the ones in the stolen car...

Yeah, it's terrible.

Now they're dead.

Some thanksgiving for their families.

See what happens you don't wear a seat belt?

Ma, they were driving,

like, 100 miles an hour.

Irregardless.

I bet you wear your seat belt.

Well...

Who says I don't?

Die in a stolen car?

You'd probably go to hell.

This is delicious, Mrs. Canz.

It's great.

Where the hell is Carmine?

Maybe somebody let the air

out of his pompadour.

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