Dick Tracy Page #4

- Come on, down further.|- Never settle

- For something less|- Oh! Push it higher and higher.

- Something's better than nothing, yes|- Run around, run around!

And nothing's better than

- More, more|- Push it up!

More, more, more, more|More, more, more

No! No! It's wrong! It's off! It's|wrong! It doesn't work! It's not good!

- Boss. Boss!|- What?

I'm sorry.|These girls are tired.

Yeah. We been doin' it all night.|It's 2:00 a.m.

"It's 2:
00 a.m."?

I'm about to turn this dump|into the birthplace|of a new era of entertainment...

you're telling me it's 2:00 a.m.?

- Play the piano!|- Hey! That was a silly thing to do.

- He's the best piano player in town.|- Shut up!

Come here.

Next time I take his fingers|and I turn 'em into pretzels.

I just might do the same thing|to your face.

See?|He's playin' better already.

Let's go.|From the toppy-top.

From the top.

Care for some water?|I'm thirsty.

- Where's Lips Manlis?|- Gimme that.

Where's Lips Manlis?

Okay, you heard him, Mrs Green.|That's his testimony.

- Okay, boys, get him outta here.|- His wh-- His what?

- Get him.|- Hey, hey. Come on with me, Mumbles.|- Impossible. Just impossible.

That's coercion, Tracy.|Even if you get anything, it's illegal.

Just tell the boys in the lab,|fingerprint those walnuts|by 8:00 in the morning 'cause

- You're what?|- It's the fifth time!|- Yep. Fifth time. That's right.

- It's a gamble|if you can't make it stick.|- Big gamble, Tracy.

Leavin' Big Boy on the street.|Now let's go get him.

No, indeedy

-That's just stocking--|-Hello, Big Boy. I brought your garbage.

- Tracy.|- We meet again, huh? Where's Lips?

This is a private club, copper.|You got a membership card?

- Do you?|- I own it.

- Since when?|- Today.

- I made a deal with Lips.|- Lips.

- Where is he?|- I don't know.

- Must've left town or somethin'.|- Well, that's a coincidence.

My new girl, Breathless Mahoney,|meet Dick Tracy...

servant of the people, like me.

- You like walnuts, don't you, Big Boy?|- I love 'em.

A lot of people like walnuts.|They're good for the liver.

Yeah, but they're bad for the brain.|You're sloppy, Big Boy.

You're under arrest.|Get him outta here, boys.

- We got a nice place for him to sleep|where they don't serve walnuts.|- We'll get ya in a half hour, Boss.

- I'm performing|the opening number, Boss.|- This ain't a break!

- Keep rehearsin'! Get my lawyer.|- See ya in a half hour, Boss.

Tell 'em it's Flatfoot.|He's at it again, and he's got no case.

-Hello?|-You're breaking and entering, you know.

- Sorry.|- Sit down.

Aren't you gonna arrest me?

If I were gonna arrest you,|I'd have done it by now.

Then what are you up to, honey?

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