Arsenal

1

Someone once asked me

why I stick up for Mikey.

They clearly don't

have a brother.

It could be

any other game, honestly.

You'll beat me on any game?

' - Yeah.

- ' Really, now?

I don't think you

understand I own the arcade.

No, you don't, but I do.

- I own every game.

- Let's prove it.

I'll beat you on every game.

Here, take it.

- All right.

- Take all these quarters.

- You think you're gonna win?

- Yeah.

Hey, can I get some quarters, Mikey?

No, get your own money.

Aw, don't cry.

Little b*tch.

Hey, guys,

what can I get for you?

- I'll take the baseball cards.

- Okay.

Thanks.

Come on.

I'm hungry, Mikey-

Come on.

Here, go play some video games.

Do you want some or not'?

Take it!

Why are you still standing

there like a f***ing retard?!

Go to the arcade!

Go!

In the beauty of

The lily

Christ was born

Across the sea

With a glory...

Open your f***ing mouth.

Open it.

Open it.

Open your mouth.

That's it.

Bite down on the pipe.

Glory, glory hallelujah

Glory, glory, hallelujah

His truth is marching on

Glory, glory, hallelujah

His truth

Is

Marching

Sneaking around?

No, I'm sorry.

I was looking for you.

You found something else,

didn't ya?

What'd you see?

Nothing.

- I didn't see anything.

- Come on Mikey, what did you see?

Something that's beautiful?

Nothing.

- I swear.

- That's good, kid.

That's how you stay quiet.

He didn't stay quiet, Mikey.

Didn't stay quiet.

Catch it, JP!

Come on, come on, you can do it.

Yes, JP!

Good job, JP!

Working for Eddie

is my thing, okay.

Stay away from the arcade.

Look, Eddie's been giving me

more and more work though so

I figure I ain't got no more time to mow

Miss Cindy's lawn no more.

Go ahead.

It's yours if you want it.

But you gotta put gas in it.

You gotta mow it every week and...

sweep all the grass

off the driveway but,

if you do all that,

it's your job.

It's your money.

I don't know what to tell you.

If you can't handle it,

I'll find someone who can.

I know you can do it,

come on, get out there.

Apply yourself, huh.

- JP.

- Yeah?

- We need to talk.

- Sure.

Alright, Rob, talk to me.

Everything going good?

Well, we're behind

on the office building job,

'cause some of the guys

have been texting on site.

Well, tell them to stop texting.

They're here to construct, not text.

I mean, Rob,

you're my partner right?

- Yeah.

- Alright, then act like a boss.

- Implement a no texting policy.

- You got it.

- Hey, you coming back later?

- Maybe.

You're late!

Please. I am prompt,

present, and prepared

to beat your ass my friend.

Bring it.

- Right over the plate.

- Let's get into it.

Come on.

Ball outside.

We want a pitcher,

not a belly itcher.

We want a pitcher,

not a belly itcher.

Come on.

Oh, yeah!

Whoo! Slamma, jamma,

ding-dong, baby!

Slamma, jamma, ding-dong,

whoo-whoo!

- Come on. Oh yeah.

- Yeah!

You go get it!

You know, Mikey,

I have a job for you if you want it.

It's just sitting

there waiting for you.

Okay?

Don't worry about me.

I'm just trying to help out.

I know you've been having a hard time

since you got back so...

Alright, see ya tomorrow.

- Okay?

- Yeah. Alright.

I've got an excess of glocks

right now, Mikey.

Can't do a thing with this.

That's not all I got.

What in the f*** is this?

- That's a flashbang.

- Flash what?

Flashbang, stun grenade.

It's what SWAT uses.

That's James Bond

sh*t right there.

Alright, so what

do you want for it?

A couple hundred bucks?

The city pays like 6,000

bucks for one of those.

Ain't gonna find them

anywhere on the street.

Yeah, but I don't have anybody

coming in here asking to buy'em.

Because they don't think

you have one, a**hole.

Mikey, I got guys coming

in here wanting protection

from sheet holders,

or carjackers, or an ex.

What in the f*** are they

gonna do with a... stun grenade?

Tell you what, man.

For you.

Six hundred bucks.

High as I can go.

Six hundred.

Why don't you take that 600

and go buy yourself

a gold dildo,

and stick up your ass.

Get the f*** outta here, Mikey.

Next time bring me

something I can sell.

Come on, baby,

what's the matter?

- Hey, Sal, you ready for today?

- Hey. Naw, I'm gonna skip today.

- Aw, that's too bad.

- I f***ed up my wrist.

- Hey, Sal.

- Hey, baby.

Listen, I need to talk

to you about Mikey.

Yeah, sure, what's up?

I was gonna confront him myself,

but you know he goes deaf

every time I speak.

- Yeah, no, I know.

- Right.

He bought a package.

- What?

- Not just to snort.

- H... how do you know?

- Come on.

F***.

It's always something.

Man, I don't even know where

he got the money to buy the sh*t.

I'm not worried about

him getting busted.

Okay?

I'm not gonna bust him.

But he's gonna get

himself killed.

- Alright, I'll talk to him, yeah.

- Alright?

- Thanks.

- Alright.

JP!

- Yes, yes!

- Excuse me.

You made it. Come here!

I didn't think you were gonna make it.

Of course, man,

I wouldn't miss it.

- Where's Lizzie?

- Uh, she's parking the car.

This kids going to get a hit. Watch,

watch, watch, watch, watch, watch, watch.

Let's see it man...

Me on second, you on the base.

- Gasps' third, me gasps' fourth.

- Hell yeah, what would Lizzie do?

She'd be our manager.

Would you manage us?

Why don't you and your little gay friend

sit down. Your team f***ing sucks.

Why don't you shut up,

Mr. Clean?

- Mikey, leave it.

- What are you a Jacksonville fan?

- Mikey

- You guys always lose.

I mean you've been

losing year after year.

Your like an evolution of losing.

They've actually accepted

being f***ing losers,

that's why he doesn't shoot himself

in the f***ing head.

- Look at him.

- Man, f*** you.

- No, f*** you, man.

- Hey, Mikey, Mikey.

Sit down, sit down.

Look man, y'all even got

tickets to be sitting here?

- Why don't y'all get outta here?

- What are you security now?

- I could be.

- Relax.

Hey, why don't you teach

your b*tch how to cheer for a real team.

Hey, hey, come on that's my wife.

Don't start with her.

Man, f*** you.

I'm cool.

Stop! I'll shoot.

- Where is it'?

- Where's what?

You know why we're here.

The coke. Where is it'?

Oh, the coke.

The coke, it's in the fridge.

Make another joke

about the coke being in the fridge.

Come on.

Alright.

Give me some crayons.

I can draw you a map.

The coke's in the f***ing crisper.

I got it, let's go.

P*ssy.

That stupid mother f***er.

Your brother's always

getting into trouble.

You know he can't control himself,

and he always has your attention.

Babe...

somebody else

has already got my attention.

- Babe, your clothes.

- I don't care.

I recognized your car, sh*t tard.

I was on your softball team

four f***ing years ago.

Remember? Remember?

- Where is it, where is it?

- F***, f***.

Where the f*** is it?

- I don't have it, man.

- Bull sh*t.

See if this jogs your goddamn memory.

- You don't understand.

- What don't I understand, huh?

Well, help me understand.

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