The Art of the Steal Page #9

- You did it, Dennis.

- One for the ages, eh?

Either write something

worth reading about,

or do something

worth writing about.

Don't spend it all

in one place.

[SPEAKS FRENCH]

[SAM] Seasoned crooks swear

there's only two days

you remember

about your stretch in prison:

The day you get in...

[DOOR BUZZING]

...and the day you get out.

And you'll

only remember your last

so long as you've got

something waiting for you.

- One wallet. One watch.

- As of the day you're released,

they can't inspect your mail.

Oh, and this arrived this

morning. Just cleared.

Who's it from?

Doesn't say.

I could never be certain,

but I had faith.

I had trust.

And if you've got no trust...

...then what do you got?

[ SOUL MUSIC]

Stop me, baby

Ooh

I'm feelin' awful, baby

Like I'm locked up

in a cage

Like a dog

who lost his collar

A show without a stage

I gotta move

Gotta pack my bags and go

Gotta move

Gotta pack my bags and go

I can't stay around here

And baby I'm sure you know

This love

This love...

- What painting?

- The Seurat.

Whoa. Whoa. What?

The Georges Seurat,

you ignorant f***.

The seminal post French

"Impressionalisht".

- The father of f***ing... F***!

- [ALL LAUGHING]

The seminal founder of

"Post-Impressionalism".

- The father of pointillism.

- [FRANCIE] Seminal French

- Post-Impressionist.

- Seminal French Post-Impressionist.

- [FRANCIE] And father of pointillism.

- And father of pointillism.

The seminal French

"Post-Impressionalist".

The founder of f***in', f***in'

and the f*** line-ups. [LAUGHS]

- [LAUGHS] - Arr, matey!

- The Georges Seurat, you ignorant f***.

The seminal father of

"Post-Impressionalism".

The founder of f***in'...

That guy!

The Seminal French

"Post-Impressionalist".

The father of pointillism.

That Georges Seurat,

you f***in' baboon.

[CREW APPLAUDS]

He's the seminal French

"Post-Impressionalist"!

My God, you're a downer.

What the f***,

what are you, Eeyore?

What are you, Morrissey?

What are you,

f***in' Willy Loman?

A f***in' boner killer.

[CRUNCH LAUGHS] A boner-killer?

Even for you, Francie,

I refuse to be a boner killer.

So, should I get the door?

[ALL LAUGHING]

I'll get the door.

I'll get it.

Hoo hoo!

- I'm in a play.

- Yeah?

- What's it called?

- Amish Cats.

- [MAN] What's it called?

- Punch My P*ssy.

Punch My P*ssy?

- Wait. What's it called?

- Cats.

The... The Cats?

The Cats. Cats or The Cats.

- All rightee. With the beard?

- Yeah.

I gotta move

Gotta pack my bags and go

Gotta move

Gotta pack my bags and go

I can't stay around here

Baby, I'm sure you know

This love

This love

This love ain't big enough

for the two of us

I'm off to see the country

And breathe the ocean air

I can't take your whining

But how, I just don't care

I gotta get moving

By road or in the street

This love is like

Hell's Kitchen

And I just can't

take the heat

This love

This love

This love ain't big enough

for the two of us

You used to be so sweet

Well, all the good

loving's gone

I tried to understand

But a man can only

take so much, girl

Hey, baby!

Come on

If you're looking

for me baby

I'll be roaming

in the streets

Be roaming

in the street, baby

Come on

It's f***in' slow, man.

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