Pocketful of Miracles

Your guest? Ever occur to you that I could
also be your prisoner? Ever think of that?

Yeah, I gave it a quick think.
Maybe you'd better give a long think
to a guy by the name of Stiff Arm Sam.

He once thought he could hold me too.
Stiff Arm? The guy
that walks around like this?

Yeah, with the blowtorch in the armpits.
That's right.
That's my idea, the blowtorch.

It must've hurt.
It's against the law to carry firearms
in New York, Darcey. Right, Joy Boy?

That's right. Here in New York
you gotta have a permit.

- Nothin', boss.
- Yeah. It's beginnin' to figure.

They tell me you've been operatin'
ten years in this town without a pinch.

Yeah. Luck, Mr Darcey. Pure luck.
I heard about the luck bit.
The thing with the lucky apples.

The wise guys figure
that's two strikes against you.

- Oh?
- Yeah.

They say you gotta buy them lucky apples
off of some little old lady, right?

And if something happens to her...
Could be like Samson
gettin' his first haircut.

Look, Darcey. I got news for you.
You see these apples?

I buy 'em by the crate
at the nearest grocery store.

The wise guys want to believe
these apples bring me luck,

it's two strikes against them.
You know about psychology, huh?
Yeah, I know about... whatever you call it.
It's like your dark glasses. You put those
on, the boys sweat from here to Omaha.

Me? I use apples.
All right. Shall we quit clowning?
I like the way this kid operates, yeah.
Smart boy. Smart dresser, too.
- You like that?
- Oh, yeah. It's rich.

- He likes it.
- Mind if I try that on?