Stone Cold Page #4

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Name and address.

Shouldn't be hard to find, even for you.

What did he do?

Crossed our territory with a

couple of keys of Bolivian flake.

You carrying? You got a gun?

What for?

So he'll hold still, man.

You're a hell of a dancer, man.

- Thanks, amigo.

- You've got some great moves.

You should be one of

those Solid Gold dancers.

- A performance like that, I'd take a bow.

- Yeah?

You know what? Don't f*** with me, okay?

No, seriously, take a bow.

Excuse me. Trash going out.

I know my rights! What do you want?

What are you doing?

Let me go! F***. What are you doing?

Police? You Federals!

What the... Let me go.

I've tattooed tits.

I've tattooed a flabby ass.

I ain't never tattooed

no corpse's ear before.

My grandfather used to take a chicken,

cut its head off, put it on the

ground and watch it run around.

I see you again, I'll introduce

you to him. Don't come back.

What comes around goes around,

you f***ing pinche gringo!

Look what the cat dragged in.

Here's your ear.

How did it go, man?

Let's just say I saved the

guy a fortune in Q-tips.

These are for you,

my lovely. Smell that.

They're not exactly to die for.

The day's not over yet, man.

Tool and Nancy have got some

collecting to do downtown. Oversee it.

- That's my gig.

- It's his now.

He's not even a member.

- Are you ready?

- Do I have a choice?

There are no golden calves here, man.

- Biloxi Police.

- Hi, baby.

What can I do for you today?

I'm sending you a picture

of a guy named John Stone.

I want you to run an NCIC on him.

- I need it yesterday, all right?

- All right. I'll get back to you.

All right.

Bullshit.

- Why you take so much?

- Don't start no sh*t.

- Come on, Tool.

- Don't f*** with me.

See you later. Bye.

What was that behind my back?

My poor brother in Vietnam.

- What was that?

- Nothing.

- You got family here or something?

- You wouldn't understand.

- Why should I explain it to you?

- What?

- You want me to give you some money?

- You know what? They work real hard.

- Take it. Get out of here.

- Thanks.

Goddamn bikers collecting in my territory.

There's that little son of a b*tch.

Oh, sh*t!

Stupid lady tried to hold back a couple

of hundred. Brother's would eat her...

Hey!

Come on, let's go.

F*** you!

Can you believe this f***ing guy?

You picked up the

wrong passenger, buddy.

Come on, what are you waiting for?

Freeze.

I'm not gonna tell you biker

pricks again. This is my territory.

Tell Chains to keep his

castles out of my sandbox.

Get in the car.

We're out of here.

- You like to tell me who the hell that was?

- His name's Domicci.

He got the money and

Chains is gonna kill me.

- How much was there?

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