Clockers Page #2

You got any chocolate Moos?

No, we don't have

no damn chocolate Moos.

This is a bar, son.

Moooo!

Yo, Ronnie!

Oh, sh*t.

What's up, man?

What you doin' here, man?

You know,

just slidin' through.

Yo, big bro. I was

just thinkin' about you, man.

Yeah?

Yeah.

I love you, too, Ronnie.

All right. Good.

The chick is in a hole cos she

shouldn't have freakin' shot...

Here. Try this.

It's sweet.

You know that's

Ahab's over there.

What?

You know that's

Ahab's over there.

The competition.

You know that clown that works in there?

The night manager, Darryl?

Darryl? No.

Darryl Adams.

Yo, the brother

is bad peoples.

How is Darryl Adams

bad people?

'Cause, yo, he beat up

this honey Charise, man.

She's only 16. She came

in askin' for a job.

This n*gger took her

to the back office,

talkin' about

"slob my Johnson."

And when she said no, he started

slappin' her up and sh*t.

Yo, the brother's foul.

A woman beater.

Yup.

A dope-dealin' woman beater.

Man, I don't know

about all that.

Who's sayin' all this?

Yo, man,

the sh*t is real.

Her moms is mad stressed

out about that sh*t.

She wants some

motherfuckin' payback.

She wants to

see that man dead.

What if it was you, your daughter?

Charise is her only child.

He just got to

be got, huh?

Well?

Yo, got ya, comin' at ya

Chrome to the dome...

Wasn't that

your favorite song?

Come on, man.

Vic, why you

f***in' with me, man?

I'm tryin' to kick

some serious sh*t here.

Should've known I couldn't

come to you about nothin'.

I know somebody.

Who?

My Man.

Who that?

Look, My Man.

A friend of a friend.

He'll do the job.

How much he talkin' about?

Nothin'.

So what's the deal?

I'm listenin'.

What you want me to do?

Nothin', man.

Just chill. All right?

My little mans,

my nephews, how they doin'?

I miss my kids, man.

Why don't you take your ass

home if you miss your kids?

There's the motherf***er.

What's up, Strike?

Yo, black, we closed.

I thought you

don't eat this sh*t

because it fucks with your stomach.

This is Ahab's, n*gger.

We ain't got no Di-Gel, no

Kaopectate, no P*ssy-Bismol!

Boom!

Gotcha!

Boom! Gotcha.

You still here,

motherf***er? What's up?

Mylanta! We need more Mylanta

out here for this girl!

Boom!

Probably

a f***in' triple-header.

Outdoors in the mud,

6O casings around,

and a big herd of Nubians stepping

all over everything, man.

Ahh! I don't like them

airplane bottles.

What the f*** happened?

Oh, that boy got shot up!

Who did?

God would know, I wasn't here, so I

really can't talk intelligently about it.

Yo, uh... I wouldn't want you

not to talk intelligently.

The body cold already.

Excuse me. Coming through.

Thank you.

Damn! Excuse me.

Hey, hey. Welcome

to the show that never ends.

Bartucci, what you got?

We got a black male,

dead man.

Darryl Adams, 22-years-old, the

night manager of this joint.

Plays like this.

Kid's standin'

by the door having

a conversation

with another male.

Pop, pop. Darryl goes down.

Shooter does a Carl Lewis.

Neighborhood says

there's four shots fired.

At this point,

that's all she wrote.

Robbery?

Nah. Way too fast.

Drugs? Was he a scumbag?

To tell you the truth,

I never seen this kid before.

Boys, Darryl Adams.

Darryl Adams, the boys.

Hi, Darryl.

Hello in there.

Live by the gun,

die by the gun.

The kid had brains.

Good thing he was

wearin' his gold, huh?

Bing, bing, bing!

Ricochet Rabbit.

I still think it

was the food here.

Hal, get in there,

tell me what you got.

There she blows.

Let's see.

No powder burns on the face.

These eyes have lied.

No stippling on the eyes.

Looking about 30,

35-years-old.

Doors one and two.

Okay, let's see.

Nothin' up the sleeve.

He might get better,

but he ain't never gettin' well.

And presto!

Slapped him five.

On the light hand side.

Hey, look at that.

Looks like some kind

of an Egyptian peace sign.

You're right there.

it says goodbye.

Moe. My main man. Gonna

need prints off that door.

F*** you, Rocco. That'll

really narrow it down.

We'll get half the yos in

Brooklyn off this door.

What, did you eat

an Ahab's Burger?

Yeah.

You owe me six more.

I love my job, too.

He's got more

prints than my ex-wife.

He wearing any?

Give me one second,

all right?

Must be his golf jacket.

It's got 18 holes.

Oh, Christ!

Come out, come out,

wherever you are

The monkey's on

the trolley car

Looks like they did come out.

Here's one. Two exits.

What's the grapevine say?

What they always say. "We keep

our ear to the grindstone."

Was he clockin'?

I don't know.

Hal, how ya doin'?

Hi, Lar.

Check the pockets.

Yeah.

Son of a b*tch!

That's Darryl Adams!

Who?

He used to work in Rodney's candy store.

I saw him all the time.

If he worked for Rodney,

he definitely was clockin'.

Hal, check

the pockets again.

Sure. Hold on.

Nothin'.

What's up, Darryl?

Clockin' like

a motherf***er, man.

You guys done yet?

Oh! Marvello the magician!

Catch a bullet

with his teeth.

What a catch!

What a smile.

Darryl, you've outdone Willie Mays.

You got my vote for MVP.

Another stain on

the sidewalk, huh?

Get a pail and a mop.

One, two, three.

All right. Show's over!

Officers, send 'em home!

See ya, Hal.

Take care.

Moe, don't make me come back

for those f***in' prints!

What you cursin' about?

I'm sorry.

Beep. beep!

Excuse me.

All right.

I won't do it again.

I'm outta here, man.

Got 50 bucks?

Nah, man.

All I find,

all I keep.

Don't be lookin' at me

in the eye, n*gger.

Your ass will be

on this mural, too.

I know that look.

You wonderin' howl

got that AIDS, ain't ya?

Nah, man.

You a lyin' motherf***er!

It wasn't from

f***in' with them punks.

I ain't no homosexual.

I ain't say all that,

all right?

F***in' with this sh*t.

I can't believe

I got this sh*t.

All this time in these

motherfuckin' streets!

And I'm

a smart motherf***er.

I know I should've

left that sh*t alone.

One time I was studyin'

to be an accountant.

Now this sh*t is

f***in' my body up.

I have a goddamn

death sentence.

That's why I don't

give a sh*t about nobody.

And I don't wanna

see your ass no more!

'Cause you ain't

got no business

out here f***in'

with this sh*t.

You'll end up like me.

Or worse.

My old man was a preacher.

And when I started

messin' with this sh*t,

he said,

"You gonna pay for that.

"You gonna pay

for that sh*t, boy."

He was right.

You can't cheat

this sh*t no more.

Get the f*** outta here!

Why you wanna be

always arguin' with me?

Listen to me. How many

pair of sneakers you got?

The pair I got on

makes six.

Yo, Rodney.

Wait a second.

Six, right?

Yeah.

How many pair

0' feet you got?

Two, like everybody else.

He don't see what

I'm talkin' about.

You don't see what I'm

talking about, do you?

What, man?

How you gonna make 10

and spend 10, n*gger?

Ten minus 1O

make what? Right?

Zero.

You wanna be

a zero n*gger?

I don't want me no

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