Wise Guys

Even when you do talk me into things,
I still don't go anywhere.

I suppose this incredible package deal
to Barbados is out.

Hey, guys, here comes
the Crystal Street bookends.

Galapagos Islands.
- It's locked.
- Harry, what happened to your face?

What, this here? This happens
to be a tropical tan.

I thought it was hepatitis.
- You guys really went to Puerto Rico, huh?
- Jamaica.

We don't go to Puerto Rico no more.
It's passé.

Hey, Moe, you went too?
You look a little pale.

Yeah, well, I'm not the sun-worshiper
that Harry is.

I saw a lot of indoor activity,
if you know what I mean.

Oh, yeah? Doing what? Watching TV?
Marco, here's your lasagna pan.
It's been at the house since Christmas.

- Thanks. What can I get you guys?
- Give me an egg cream, Marco, will you?

Yeah? How about you, coz?
What will it be? A coco loco?

Don't start. What, Wanda called Aunt Mary?
Give me a cioccolata calda.

Sure. And wipe that shit off your face
before Mr. Castelo comes down.

What, it looks that bad? Shoot.
Cost me 6 bucks.

- Do you know today's my birthday?
- No kidding. Happy birthday.

Marco, let me have a cannoli
while you're there.

You didn't get me anything, did you?
All right. Moe...
...the egg cream's on me.
Happy birthday, all right?

That's nice and hot. Very good.
Here comes another birthday present
for you: Frankie the Fixer.

- Oh, man, not him.
- Look at him. He's oozing this way.

Fat and miserable.
- Frank, how's it hanging?
- Give me a Balboa. Give me a beer.

Frankie, you're looking good.
We were just saying,
we don't see enough of you.

- You're what I'm looking for, dickface.
- Frankie, the name's Dickstein.