Serving Sara Page #3

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Can I help you?

Hello.

Man, slow down!

Whoa!

I can't believe|you messed this up.

I did not mess it up.

I told you he'd mess it up.

It's a goddamn cakewalk, Joe.

Look, I chased her all through

Midtown Manhattan for two hours.

I froze my dick off.

Boo-hyphen-hoo.

Huh!

Has anybody informed you,|this job is not easy.

I'm going to find her.

It's not going to be a problem.

Well, it already is|a problem.

I'm giving the file|to Tony.

What?

Come on. Give me the papers.

You know what?|I don't know

what the hell I was thinking,|giving you this job

in the first place.

Look, you are making|a mistake, Ray.

I know exactly|where she is.

Good. Tell it to Tony.

Thanks, Boss.

She's up Ray's ass.

You should know your way around.

Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm...

Mm-hmm...

Hey, Joe.

Hey, Lenny.

Santa, you're supposed to give|the gifts, not take them.

Yeah, I got a present for you.

Milty, I need a favor.

Yeah.

And I need a swollen prostate.

I need the file on 4-9-8-3.

That's a small Uzi

and two vials of crack.

- Milt... Milt.|- Got it.

Look, can you get me|the addresses

on these speed-dial|phone numbers, please?

Uh, I don't know|if you noticed here

but the "In" is winning|by a landslide.

Okay.

Maybe this will help.

Oh, no.

I think my eyes are going,|because I only see 20 bucks.

How about now?

Oh, there we go.

Come back at 7:
00.

That's the best you can do?

Oh, now my hearing's off.

I'll see you at 7:00.

Miami Marriott.

Uh, yes, I'd like to make|a reservation, please.

Under the name... Sara Moore

for a check-in|early tomorrow morning.

Okay.

Thank you.

Now, let's see how we did today.

Oh, yeah.

Nice nose...

Better than yesterday.

Yeah.

I'm the idiot.

Nice place.

It's good.

Miami Marriott.

Uh, Sara Moore, please.

One moment, please.

Uh, sir, I'm sorry

but Ms. Moore won't be checking|in until tomorrow morning.

Tomorrow morning?

Oh, thank you.

Thank you very much.

I gotcha.

May I help you?

You got gas.

Excuse me?

You got leakage.

Excuse me?

Not you, lady.

Your house.

But we have electric.

Yeah, I know. That's why|it's kind of a pickle.

Can I sniff around?

Actually, no.

Thanks.

Not sniffing any gas,|but I do detect

the smell of coffee.

You know, I think

you should just leave.

Yeah, why don't you run|in the kitchen and grab me

a cup of coffee|all right, cupcake?

Nice place you got here.|It's real rustic.

Amanda?

Hey, are you okay?|What's going on?

I heard all that shouting|down there.

Oh, no!

Sara Moore

you are hereby served|for divorce.

Divorce?! What?!

Smile.

No, hang on. Wait-wait a minute.

You must have|the wrong person.

Um, you must be looking

for a different|Sara Moore.

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