Capers

---

-Who's that?

- You want-

you want to knock that off?

- Sorry, sir.

You new?

- Yeah, matter of fact I am.

Special assignment,

anti-terrorism division.

- He's a little small to be

a guard dog, isn't he?

- You know what kind

of animal that is?

- Wiener dog?

- This is a dachshund,

badger hound.

This animal is trained to sniff

out chemical and nuclear agents.

- He can smell nuclear agents?

- He frickin' loves

nuclear agents.

Now, security officer...

Fadagucci,

if you don't mind,

we got some work to do.

- Yes, sir.

- Be a good boy.

Take a seat, there you go.

What?

What the--

[electronic beeping]

[dog wheezing]

Harry.

Harry, you got to shut up.

- Monitor, room 438.

- 438.

- Yeah, who's the guy

with the wiener dog,

fondling the cashmere?

- Captain.

Captain.

- 438, tell that cop

that sweater

ain't gonna fit that dog.

[sirens blaring]

- This neighborhood

has gone to sh*t.

I remember when this was

a beautiful neighborhood.

Everybody looked like

everybody else,

and everybody knew their place.

Now we got moolies dancing

on every corner.

And if it ain't the moolies,

it's the Sputniks

fresh off the boat.

It all started

when the city went bust.

There were

small-timers everywhere

stealing anything they could

get their hands on.

One day they get caught,

the next day they're out

and right back at it.

All of a sudden,

we're surrounded

by goddamn amateurs.

- These are genuine cashmere.

They're worth a fortune.

- What am I supposed to do

with a bunch of sweaters,

wipe my ass?

- Okay, think about this:

guy walks in your shop

to pick up his gun.

He stops.

"Hey, that's a nice sweater.

Is that cashmere?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact,

it is," you say.

"Why don't I make you

a package deal,

a gun and a sweater."

Now he's warm and protected.

You're happy.

He's happy.

- I'm tired of you ratty losers

coming in here.

First it was your

dumbshit partner,

now I got to listen

to the prodigal retard.

- Look, Connie,

I'm really desperate.

I got to get Harry

out of New York.

- What's wrong with him?

- 9/11.

The toxins filled up his lungs.

He can't even breathe

right anymore.

[dog wheezing]

- How about this?

You give me the sweaters,

I give you the .38.

You take the .38 home,

put the dog out of its misery.

Then you do us all a favor

and shoot yourself in the face.

- Screw you, Connie.

- Look at that goddamn loser.

When your grandfather

ran this neighborhood,

the crooks were ltalian,

and they were organized.

Now I barely

recognize the place.

Never should've let anybody else

on the block.

That's what started the decline.

Next thing you know,

we're surrounded

by goddamn moolies.

- Never spit more

than twenties

I'ma climb on the pound

Spittin' about Bentleys

I walk around town

- And I'm focused, man

Provoke this man

And get ran over

in your own promotions van

- I'm bockin' hard top

Blades through my hamstrings

And if E's a devil

Let me do that damn thing

- lf you want cash

Then shake it fast

and watch yourself

Like you in the mirror

and you 'bout to wash yourself

- I'm checkmate 3G solid

You've lost your rook

Streets keep callin'

but can't get through

I'm off the hook

And every noon I wake up

to six phillies

and three dimes

Never early

If I ain't high by 4:20

I'm 7:
30

- I got a hummer in a hummer

Was the best I made

Benz over and Mercedes

now an Escalade

With these hoopty

all around me, man

I can't lock it up

In the club

Only 50 cent in my pocket

- Yo ho

see me and stop

When I walk around the block

'Cause my watch

gives new meaning

to the phrase

rock around the clock

Watch us

bang this heat out

Coincidentally my heat

rang the street out

I face some penalties

for the brains I leak out

I own three dimes

of green trees

Y'all felines fighting

But never seen cheese

like three blind mice

- Where's the ride, b*tch?

Where's the ride, nigga?

- We sold it.

- Why you gonna borrow money

from me for a ride

and then sell

the goddamn thing?

- Yeah, I don't know.

- Well, if you sold the ride,

where's the goddamn money?

[gunshots]

[jazzy piano riff]

- Five, six, seven, eight.

[funky hip-hop beat]

- Got my money now?

- No.

- Guess I'm gonna have to

shoot you, then.

- Hold on, baby.

What's that?

- Oh, she's my-my cousin,

my third cousin.

- What's she doing

under the sink?

- I don't know.

She likes it.

- We're babysitting.

- Where are her parents?

- They went away.

- Like three years ago.

- I might just have to take her

for payment.

- Okay.

- Okay.

- Peckerwood, you don't

understand what I'm saying.

I'ma take this little b*tch

and sell her ass

if you don't give me my money.

- That's cool.

[together]

"That's cool"?

- You could, like,

totally sell her

on the black market.

- What'd you say?

- Um, I mean, well,

the dark market.

Or the gray market

where they deal

in illegal goods, you know.

- Then we'd be even, right?

- You want to tell me

what we're gonna do

with a cabbage patch kid?

- We're gonna see

what we can get for her.

- Are you out of your mind?

- We're overextended, baby.

- What does that mean?

- Ask your accountant.

- Outflows are exceeding inflows

by a substantial amount.

- Goddamn street done dried up

since 9/11.

- Streets haven't dried up.

You just haven't been able

to collect

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