Pocketful of Miracles

in Mama's wedding dress
by the preacher who married them.

Maybe I should go out and get my violin.
It's sappy, I know. But let me be sappy.
I'm sick of being Queenie Martin.

Reverend Morgan's still down there.
He's 81 years old and he's still
conducting Sunday services.

Dude, when I located him on the phone,
he cried. Can you imagine?

I cried too. It was the wettest
long-distance call...

Are you crying? I've never seen you cry.
When I'm happy -
when I'm really happy - I'm a Niagara.

OK, Elizabeth. To us.
To the wedding in your mother's wedding
dress... by the 81-year-old preacher.

- Oh, Dude, Niagara's coming!
- Watch it. This stuff burns holes, baby.

- I'm sorry.
- That's all right.

Oh, Queenie...
Dude, Annie's here. Let's go.
- Annie?
- I'll be right out!

What do you need an apple for?
What more luck do we need?

You just gave me a wedding present -
the place in Maryland.

I'm gonna give you one.
An all-year house on a silver platter.

- The whole city of New York.
- I don't want New York.

I want a little town in Maryland
where I can play the wife-and-mother bit.

You can shake this.
You didn't want it in the first place.

- But I'm a man who needs a little action.
- Action?

Prohibition's over.
Hey, Dude, the man is waitin'.
- All right, all right.
- What man? Who are you seeing tonight?

I'm making a meet with our future,
sweetheart. Mr Big himself.

- Not Darcey?
- You're right. Darcey.

Dude, no. You're not going to Chicago?
No. The mountain is coming to the Dude.
I'm not going to Chicago.

Darcey in New York?
The police said they'd never let him in.

They didn't let him in. I did.