The Family Page #6

Yes, you're right. I'm sorry.

You know, this isn't the first time

I've seen you in the middle of the day,

praying on your own,

but never at mass.

Yes, well, I come as often as I can.

I was expecting a parishioner,

who can't make it apparently.

Would you like to take his place

for confession?

Me?

Oh, I confess it's been years

since I went to confession.

Well, then that's one thing at least

you should ask forgiveness for.

I imagine that you're bound by

some sort of confidentiality clause.

Nothing I say leaves the building.

We are bound

by something far more sacred

than a confidentiality clause.

The secrecy of the confessional box.

Have no fear.

Venez.

Warren! Your homework?

My homework?

The assignment I gave you for the

last edition of the school newspaper.

A short story in English

with wordplay and double-meanings.

Oh, yeah, that one.

Warren, it goes off

to the printers tonight,

- so don't tell me you haven't done it.

- No, of course I did it.

- Wonderful. Can I have it?

- Yeah, it's just in here.

Give me five minutes

to get you a hard copy.

Five minutes and not one second more.

More than enough.

Wordplay...

In English...

- Nice.

- You havin' a good time?

What's on at the opera right now?

You wouldn't like it, Don Luchese.

They're doing Boris Godunov.

It's a story written by a Russian. Russki.

Why wouldn't I like it?

If it's "Godunov" for you,

it's "good enough" for me.

"If it's good enough for you,

it's Godunov for me."

If she doesn't like that,

then too bad for her.

I got the Gazette.

Chri. Chri.

Gary!

Can you do five minutes' work a day?

- Just for me.

- Boss, I'm on my break.

Move your ass before I kick it!

Vincenze, I think I'm in love.

Oh. Who's the lucky girl?

They call her Miss April.

You should wait for summer.

That's why you ought to stay at it.

- Yeah.

- Hey, Morales.

I have a package for you, boss.

- How's your knee?

- Much better. Thank you.

Looks like a package from my nephew.

My coffee. You gotta taste this, Morales.

I would love to,

but I have a situation in Block C.

- I'll keep some for you.

- Thanks.

Specialty from home, huh?

No, a guy from Milan who spent

some time here introduced me to this.

Not as creamy as Irish coffee,

but less sickly.

- Salute.

- Salute.

- Well?

- Yeah, it's nice. Good.

- This is French, no?

- Let me see.

I've learned four

languages in my time here

and started Chinese lessons recently.

I butchered them for decades

in Chinatown,

never understanding

a damn word they said.

I thought I owed them

that much, at least.

Yes, it's French.

"If it's 'Godunov' for you, it's...

it's 'good enough' for me."

Go get Morales.

Please follow me.

Mr. Chambard will see you now.

Ah. Mr. Blake.

I don't want to seem rude,

but I don't have much time.

- I have a plane to catch.

- Oh, yeah?

- Oh, you're a biker?

- Yes, always have been.

What can I do for you?

I hope you are not here

about this brown water business too.

I'm afraid so.

If only we could put a stop

to this archaic way of thinking,

"chemicals equal pollution."

No, believe me,

you're preaching to the converted.

But you know, it's when I turn

my water on in my kitchen,

and it comes out brown,

I don't want brown water.

- I want my water crystal-clear...

- Buy bottled water then.

If there is one thing I don't like,

it's being interrupted.

So I'm going to ask you one more time,

and I advise you to pay close attention.

When I turn on my faucet,

and the water comes out brown,

I don't want my water brown,

I want it crystal-clear.

- So what can you do for me?

- The turbine...

- The turbine?

- Yes.

The pumps, stop it.

Where is this turbine?

Next tank... number five.

Good.

No. My children.

You open your big mouth about this,

you won't have no children no more.

What are you doing?

I'm just passing the time,

waiting on you.

- Where you been?

- I was just walking the dog.

Mm-hmm.

You read the manuscript?

It's my job, Fred. Don't get mad, I'm

supposed to be keeping an eye on you.

What am I to expect next time?

You come out of my toilet bowl?

No, not me,

but Di Cicco could any minute.

You amaze me, Fred. Really.

You're not as illiterate as you seem.

This is a bit rough around the edges,

but you got a style all your own.

I particularly enjoyed your account

of the peace negotiations

with the Esteban family

after your turf wars.

You made a "concession," that's

what's they call a euphemism, Freddy.

You practically kissed

his smelly Colombian ass that day.

Stan, I thought we had an agreement.

We wouldn't insult each other.

Keep your ass in this chair, you

wouldn't be feeling insulted right now.

On the other hand,

your account of me is a bit harsh.

"The FBI pitbull who's

been ruining my life

for the last six years."

"Eyes... colder than a rotten fish."

Uh, "He'd be capable

of hauling his own mother

into court for fudging on her taxes."

That is just awkward, hackneyed syntax.

Freddy, take it easy.

You escaped our surveillance

and that is enough for me to terminate

the Witness Protection Program right

now, and there's not a goddamn thing

all your cronies in Washington

could do about it.

If you plan another stunt like this,

I'm gonna put an electronic bracelet

on your ankle.

Stan, don't you think you're overreacting

a little too much?

What is all this grief about?

A couple of pages

written in a garage

in the middle of nowhere?

This gets out, you're dead.

Stan, we're all gonna die.

And I'll be honest with ya.

Dying for these words...

...is always nobler

than the death I'm destined for.

OK.

Give me the rest of it to read

when you're finished.

Deal?

You've got a real page-turner here.

I can't wait to see how it ends.

Uh... Belle. Uh... I'm sorry.

Today is a special day for me.

I know. Your exam's tomorrow.

Yes. My train is

at 7:
15 this evening, and...

We won't do any exercises tonight.

I didn't intend to.

I, uh... put together some exercises

for you to do, uh, at home.

They're equations.

And I have something

that I'd like you to solve.

What's more beautiful

than life itself...

...devours you inside...

...makes you laugh and cry all day...

...and makes you do anything...

...anytime...

...any place?

Belle...

And the answer is?

Mmm! F***!

- Gio.

- Aw, honey, I can't...

I'm sorry, but only a good old-fashioned

expression is worthy of your pasta.

It is so good that's the only way

you describe it:
"f***ing good."

It's the ultimate compliment.

I'd happily do without

your f***ing compliments.

Honey, it's so good,

it's better than New York.

No, your memory's

playing tricks on you, honey.

These tomatoes are from Spain.

There's no flavor whatsoever.

Yeah, Alzheimer's

coming to get you, Dad?

Yeah, OK. But, you know,

there's something you do

that's just amazing.

No, nostalgia compensates

for the lack of flavors

and stimulates the brain

to recreate all the missing pieces.

What is this with you guys? Huh?

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