Hoodlum Page #8

- Hewlett, I own you.

You do as I tell you.

Now put aside your differences

for the time being.

We got a job to do.

Shake hands.

Shake hands.

Nice, very nice, truce, f***ing beautiful.

- Jesus Christ.

- Hey, Hewlett, why don't you take some

of this stuff home with you?

Me and Foley, we didn't even

finish the pastrami sandwiches.

- No, Dutch, that ain't necessary.

- It's just going to go

in the garbage, otherwise.

You got one of them grandkids to feed.

- It ain't necessary.

- Don't be proud.

Wrap up the scraps and take 'em home.

- Thank you, Dutch.

- It ain't nothin'.

- Come on, now.

- Here, here, here, take this.

- Can't you see we trying to play a game?

- A bill game.

- What I see,

you want to know what I see?

I done see more people

die in the last six months

than I have in my whole life.

Now, you leave me alone and let me go

play my song for Miss Mary.

- I understand you're

upset by Pigfoot dying--

- Mary!

That's her name.

And you don't give a

good goddamn about her,

no way, you couldn't even

come to the goddamn funeral.

- I paid my respects--

- All them funky-ass flowers

don't mean a goddamn thing,

it don't mean sh*t.

You should've brought

your black ass over there.

- Me walking in a church

and you carrying on

ain't going to bring Mary back, is it?

- Let me ask you something.

How many of the general's

foot soldiers got to die

before you see that they playing you

just like I'm playing

that raggedy-ass piano?

Dutch got n*ggers working for him.

We kill them, and it all work out

so we all just killin' each other.

- Any n*gger fool enough

to work for the Dutchman

deserve to die.

- How you sound?

You think innocent people deserve to die?

Tyrone?

My Mary?

You there like you ain't

got nothing to say to me.

Let's see what Mr. Speaker got to say.

He always got a word for you.

- Illy!

- Come on, give it to

me, give it to me, huh?

- Take it easy, now.

- It's all right, set him loose.

- I wish I never gave you

that motherfucking gun.

Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have cussed.

- You need to go home,

you're drunk on that Cancun.

- Yeah, you drunk on yourself.

- Illinois, don't let me raise up

and come over there and

put my hands on you.

- That's how you talk to me, now?

Huh?

You talking to me--

- I done told you,

take your drunk ass home!

- All right, then.

I'm going to do what you say.

No, Illinois, good soldier,

always do what General Bumpy say.

Let me put this on your

mind, you smoke this over.

When you're going down your

list of accomplishments,

Harlem used to be

still and silent at night.

You can thank yourself

for the way it is now.

I'm through, cousin.

You can fight this war by

your goddamned self, now.

I'm through.

I'm like Jack the Bear's brother,

can't go no further.

See?

Good, now you got two guns.

- I'm going to hold

onto this for you, bear.

- Come on.

Tell me a joke.

Come on, Illy, tell Whispers a joke.

- We the joke, Whispers.

You don't hear Dutch laughing?

- Hey, Tiny,

hey, Tiny, let's have a talk.

Come on over.

- Officer Foley!

I'm just f***ing with you.

- I don't think you should do that.

- You're right, you the law.

I've been looking for you.

- Well, you see how

lucky you are, here I am.

- I've got some good news for you.

You, too.

Just want you to know that, from now on,

you won't have no more trouble

out of Illinois Gordon.

That's right, I wash

my hands, I'm through.

I'm out.

- Tiny, you have trouble learning, son?

- No, sir.

- Well, they should'a

taught you a long time ago

that once you're in, you can't get out.

They should've.

- Get your ass on.

Get your ass in.

- You're making it awfully

hard on yourself, son.

So I'll ask you again:

where did you hide the policy slips?

Would you like to have a go?

- That's you.

- It is me, isn't it?

That it is.

- I see why Bumpy don't go to church, Bub.

- What?

- Kill

or be killed, or be killed.

- Jesus Christ, Foley.

He ain't going to talk.

Let him go.

- Oh, yes, he is.

He's gonna talk.

Sure you don't want to have a go?

- I'm gone.

- Suit yourself.

Now.

We both know you're gonna talk, don't we?

Because I will ram this

corkscrew up your nostrils

until I pop your eyeballs out.

You know I'll do it, don't you?

- Okay, okay.

Okay, okay!

- You have something to

tell me, then, right?

All right, what is it?

What, what, I can't hear you.

- My cousin

is going to f*** you up

real bad for all this,

Officer Foley.

- The dividing line could conceivably be

135th Street, running east to west,

and Lenox Avenue, running north to south.

Mr. Schultz would take one territory,

and Mr. Johnson, the other.

- I can't accept any proposal

that allows Mr. Schultz

to continue to operate freely in Harlem.

As I said before, I have

no quarrel with any of you,

gentlemen, but if Mr. Schultz

insists on coming uptown,

I have no choice but to make

my presence felt downtown.

- Well, you realize that

such a course of action

will bring about your demise?

- Dutch been trying to

bring about my demise

for quite some time.

- I'm not Dutch.

- Yeah, you Lucky.

- You got nuts the size of watermelons.

- Dutch.

Enough with the compliments.

- Perhaps you gentlemen

need some more time

to consider my proposal.

- We ain't gotta consider a f***ing thing.

Your days are numbered, if

you'll pardon the expression.

You're pretty smart for a n*gger.

- Yeah, so are you.

- Well, that's good, that's good.

Insult the man who holds your

destiny between his fingers.

- So you've got some slips.

I beat the wrap, hands down.

- Oh, like the glorious

Madame Queen of policy?

My judge is sending your

black ass to f***ing jail.

Jesus Christ.

- Your move.

- Bump?

- Yeah.

- Illinois was the only one besides you

who knew where them slips was hidden at.

- That don't make him a stool pigeon, Cal.

- Bumpy.

- Yeah?

- We found him.

- That old brick press over there

said he saw a cop string him up.

That cop had captain's bars.

- Oh, God, I love you, girl, oh yes.

Aye, you are so good.

- Thank you.

- Hey, what you put it away for?

Come on.

You can't, what are you doing?

You can't stop--

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, let

me just put my pants on--

- Hey, Bub.

You touch Illinois?

- No.

- I said, did you put

your hands on my family?

- I said, f*** no.

- You didn't do nothing

to stop it, though.

- If there's blood on my hands,

there's blood on yours, too.

You ain't no better than me.

- How you sleep at night, old man?

- How the f*** do you know I sleep at all?

- You owe me.

- You ain't no better than me!

You ain't no better than me.

- Sit down.

- Your man said you had a proposal.

- The Dutchman wins,

everybody in Harlem loses,

including you and me.

- Go on.

- Smoke this over.

When I went in the joint,

you ran the fiercest gang in Harlem.

I come out, you working for the Dutchman.

But everything that's been going on

for the last year and a

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