Neapolitans in Milan Page #3

---

And a blanket.

It was all set up, huh?

But you will remember me!

You will remember Mr. Parenti!

Rascals!

Rascals!

"Funeral Services"

Stop!

Oh, he's here. Don Salvatore,

a letter for you, from the Ministry.

Oh, the reply from the Ministry.

Very well!

Let's hope it's good news.

Quiet, quiet, guys. Do not worry.

Don Salvatore!

Is all right.

The Milanese was settled.

Good.

And we too have been settled!

You can free the Milanese.

Negative response.

Negative? - But you promised...

- And what can I do?

What... - I too must vacate,

you get it or not? Clear off!

Be careful!

Hey, be careful, we're here below!

Come on, tonight we go to sleep outdoors!

- Please!

I knew it was going to end like this, Dad!

Hurry up, for it's late!

Push it, I'll pull!

- But push how? It's too big!

Here, Donna Carmela.

But, you got strenght? You got health?

So push!

Oof! It doesn't go through!

Oh Mary, what a mess!

I can't take it anymore!

Don't worry, mom,

we'll pack the next load ourselves.

Look! There he is! The mayor, the patron!

Dear Don Salvatore, when there was "Him",

this wouldn't happen!

Come on! - But now he's gone!

Stand still with your hands!

All right! We will take the rematch!

Huh! You'll see the rematch with this,

with binoculars in reverse!

Let's go.

Buffoon! - Scrap of men.

- That's crazy! Stuff to tear your hair.

We'll do, we'll say...

The mayor! Buffoon again.

Hey, don't scream!

You want me to slap you all? - Who, me?

The head! The head! The head!

Come on, a bit more. - I'm really fed up!

- Pull a bit more, a bit more!

Laugh some more, you!

Boss, those in the Horn don't want

to get out! The anarchist, Piccirillo,

stirred them up. Says that

not even with the guns! - How many are?

Antonio Esposito with Irene the chorister.

Alberto Di Gennaro, Pasquale Capasso,

Tommaso Piccirillo and Emanuele Coppola.

Well, forget it, they'll give in.

Let's go on!

But, you'll take responsibility?

- Yeah, I'll take the responsibility!

Let's go on.

- Oh... well.

Come out! Come!

Outta my way!

I told you not to go near there!

Don't pay heed to that one!

Nice guy he is!

Where are you going, wretch?

Come back! Come on!

I want no trouble!

I've endured you for 20 years.

I'm an artist, I!

Huh, listen! Says she's an artist!

I wanna blast her brains!

- What're you doing? Wait!

Get off me! Get off me! Get off me!

Wicked woman!

Ungrateful! And to say that in August

I even took her to the cinema!

Forget about her!

Leave her alone!

Let her go! Let go those who want to!

Freedom!

Trotsky said that

everyone is his own master.

And the first one deserting,

I smash his head!

Hey, somebody!

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes