Capone Page #3

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Everything north of 12th Street,

there, belongs to me.

No ifs, ands or buts.

- That's right, isn't it?

- That's right.

Well, them dago pals of yours...

...been pushing that cat piss

they call whiskey into my joints.

So I'm telling you, here and now,

it's gotta stop.

And if you don't stop them,

I, by God, will.

- I'll talk to them.

- Do you hear that, lads?

He'll talk to them. F*** talking to them.

I'm telling you to tell them.

Tell them I catch one more

greaseball son of a b*tch...

...north of 12th Street,

he'll end up in a pine box.

- Johnny, how long you gonna take this?

- Al...

I want you to hear something,

bigmouth.

If it wasn't for Johnny, you'd still

be knocking over poor boxes.

You don't make the rules.

Johnny Torrio makes the rules.

He owns this f***ing town.

That includes you.

Come on, lads.

You're dead, Capone.

I'll crap on your grave, Polack.

That was a big mistake, Al.

- Who the hell is this?

- Pete. Get your ass out of bed.

- Oh, yeah, Deanie.

- Hit the Gennas.

- Tonight?

- I'll call Frank and Moran.

O'Leary's.

Frank Gusenberg?

You got a phone call.

It's about time we hit those dagos.

Can anybody beat the big lady?

- Beats me.

- Hey, Moran. Telephone.

My condolences

on the loss of your brother.

Johnny, I'd like you to meet

a couple of boys here.

Frank Nitti, Jack McGurn.

My personal bodyguards.

You're gonna need

a couple yourself, Johnny.

- Antonio.

- I ask for this sit-down...

...at the request of the Genna brothers

and their families.

In one black night, they suffered

the murder of a beloved brother...

...the horror of a wife and child

blown from their beds.

Had whiskey worth $30,000

taken from them by force.

All of this on the orders of your

business partner, Dion O'Banion.

I spoke to O'Banion

a couple of days ago.

He complained that the Gennas

were muscling in on his joints.

It was an unfortunate mistake

by men new to the territory.

When Angelo heard about it...

...he sent an emissary to O'Banion

to settle the matter.

You wanna know what

Mr. O'Banion said to Maxie?

He said, "Tell them Sicilianos

to go to hell."

I say kill Mr. O'Banion.

Angelo...

...you know, personally, I'd like nothing

better than go to O'Banion's funeral.

You know what that would cause?

A shooting war.

- A lot of people aren't gonna like that.

- What people, Johnny?

All those guys care about is booze,

broads, money to play the ponies.

If we let them get away with this, they'll

come down on us like a ton of coal.

- Charlie.

- AI makes a lot of sense, Johnny.

- Jake.

- I don't know, J.T.

Maybe if we try to set up

a meeting with O'Banion...

No. I'm telling you now.

Nobody's gonna talk to nobody.

You don't

wanna kill this puzzone...

...me and my brother, we'll do this.

Mr. Capone.

Senator, what brings you

up from Springfield?

I wanna personally thank J.T. for his

very liberal campaign contribution.

We take care of our friends, senator.

Where can Johnny reach you?

- I'll be at the Drake for a few days.

- Good.

Enjoy the evening.

- Take care of the senator.

- Sure thing, Mr. Capone.

Mr. Capone, this is Joe Pryor,

deputy sheriff.

Sure took your sweet time

getting here.

That desk is solid walnut.

It set me back 300.

- So get your f***ing feet off it.

- Now, just a goddamn minute...

Now, you wanted the boss?

I'm the boss.

What's on your mind?

Five grand.

You got three crap tables

going full blast.

A couple roulette wheels, a row of slots,

and you're selling booze at the bar.

You're breaking a lot

of laws around here.

Will those society swells

like spending the night in the clink?

Five grand will give them a pass, huh?

It was gonna be 3,

but you got my uniform dirty.

- Sam, get Hoffman on the phone.

- Oh, I forgot to tell you...

...the sheriff's on vacation.

Oh, so you thought you might make

a killing while he's out of town, huh?

Give you five grand? I wouldn't

piss up your ass if you was on fire.

Pay the lady and I don't mean maybe.

And here they come again.

Place your bets.

- Sixteen hundred bucks, goddamn it.

- Get your...

Let's go double up and beat the bank.

Your luck's mounting.

The little lady's coming out.

What's your bet? Coming out.

Hey, gangster. Mr. Capone.

Come on over here.

Good evening, Miss Crawford.

What can I do for you?

Blow on them. For luck.

Coming out.

Winner, seven.

Count the tips and pay the chips.

You're cashing in.

Mr. Capone, would you mind breaking

this gentleman's nose again?

You want a bodyguard, hire one.

All right. Nobody move.

Freeze.

Get your hands behind your back,

Capone. Come on, move.

I always wanted an excuse

to clobber a cop.

You dumb broad. Come on. Come on.

Come on.

Now, get in there. Get in there.

- What? In here?

- That's right. Get.

Oh, please, don't get up.

We're just passing through.

Go ahead, back to work.

- Where are we, anyway?

- We're in a whorehouse.

Well, well, well. Lookie what I found.

Get them out. Get them out.

Capone, do something.

B*tch. Come on in.

You can pick up the girl

on the way out.

No hard feelings, Mr. Capone.

It's just business, you understand.

Sure, we all got a living to make.

Now, you take care of yourself

and your family.

Men in your line of work

run into some...

...pretty tough customers.

Hello.

Yeah. Who wants to know?

Some dame named Crawford.

Says you know her.

Okay, what is it?

Do I play what?

- Brava. Brava.

- Thank you.

Okay, your shot.

All right. It's very easy. Just keep your

left arm straight. No, the left arm.

- Left arm straight.

- Pivot the shoulders.

- Okay. I got it, I got it.

- Keep your eye on the ball.

Hey.

Not bad.

It would seem people aren't

the only thing you can hit.

I played a lot of stickball.

- You know, this is good fun.

- Give you a little class.

Sh*t.

I gather one doesn't do

much putting in stickball.

Good evening, lad. You here for

the Mike Merlo flowers, of course.

That's right.

To the underworld's

most promising golfer.

Sixty-eight, not bad, huh?

For nine holes? Excellent.

Iris. How nice to see you.

Mrs. Atkins, Miss Detwiller,

Mr. Capone.

- How do you do, ladies?

- Oh, why, of course.

Your picture's been in all the papers.

- You're the famous...

- Gangster.

Well, since you said it.

I've never met anyone in your line

of business before.

It must be terribly exciting.

Forgive me...

...but do you actually carry a gun?

Darling, that's called "packing a rod."

Isn't that right, Mr. Capone?

Sure, I pack a rod all the time.

Here, let me show you.

Hey. Hey. Look out.

Get out of here.

I gotta go back through the doors.

Get a better edge on it.

Talking about humping

your girlfriends, Charlie.

Very funny.

What are you, a comedian?

- Your legs are very funny.

- Ain't got no class.

Hold it, Al.

Get back.

What is it, Frank?

Jesus Christ.

What tipped you off?

When we left the car here last night,

the mirror was straight.

Now, whoever left that bomb must've

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