By Quinn and the boys
We open on a cubicle in the NYPD head office. A frustrated officer Kowalski sits at his desk, unable to focus as he sorts through stacks of paper work. He is interrupted and startled by a loud ring from a phone call from underneath his paperwork. He rifles through the unorganized stacks until he finds the still ringing phone, and picks it up.
Commissioner: Kowalski, get your ass in my office immediately.
Kowalski: But Sarge, I…
Commissioner: Don’t give me any lip, just get the hell down here. (hangs up)
Kowalski: Jesus Christ… (gets up from his desk and walks to Commissioner John Johnson’s office. When he returns, Officer Zacharski is waiting for him, leaning against his desk.)
Zacharski: So what’d the Sarg. say?
Kowalski: He said they don’t need a loose cannon on the squad tonight, or for the rest of the case…
Zacharski: You’re kidding…I know how much this case means to you…
Kowalski: And so does the Sarg., but that sonuvabitch apparently doesn’t give a rat’s ass…
Zacharski: Believe me, I know what you mean. You don’t know my true place in this case, but Kowalski, you gotta promise me one thing- promise me you’re gonna let Mendoza be. No need to bring up old ghosts…
Kowalski: Mendoza killed my old partner. Ill bury the demons that haunt me once I bury that Mendoza bastard. (Stares into space, clenching his fists) You son of a bitch Mendoza I’m gonna kill ya!
(Just then, the phone rings again. Both officers stare at the phone for a few rings before Kowalski presses the speakerphone button to answer it)
Mendoza: You’re old partner got what was coming to him.
Kowalski: How’d you get this numbah?!
Zacharski: Mendoza you leave him out of this god dammit!
Kowalski: (to Zacharski) What the hell are you talking about? How close were you to my old partner??
Zacharski: I’m his son, and I won’t let my fathah die in vain!
Kowalski: I didn’t know Frank had a boy, that son of a bitch had broads everywhere in the tri state area though.
Zacharski: My pa was a good cop and there ain’t no way I’m letting a dirty crook like Mendoza walk freely around the streets of my dad’s district.
Kowalski: Don’t worry Zacharski, with my experience and your wild card approach we’ll take this bastard Mendoza down.
Mendoza: You’ll never catch me alive, ya dirty coppahs!
(Mendoza hangs up and a dial tone is heard. From around the corner, Commissioner Johnson walks in after having been listening to the whole conversation. He lifts and slams down the phone to end the dial tone.)
Commissioner: You boys thinking of going after him on your own?!
Kowalski: Sarg., you gotta underst…
Commissioner: I’ll be damned if I let my two best cops walk right into a slaughterhouse. You’re off the case boys!
Kowalski: I was already off the case commissionah, you’ve known I’ve been doing rogue work for a while now. I’m gonna put that Mendoza bitch in the ground!
Zacharski: Commish, my old man is dead and you don’t seem to give a damn. We’re going after this schmuck whether you approve or not.
(Commissioner Johnson gets frustrated and storms off in a huff. A long silence hangs in the air before Kowalski breaks it by turning to Zacharski)
Kowalski: Zacharski, I have something to tell you- your dad was the best damn cop this city has ever seen. And now that I see how much you are like him, it would make me damn proud to put on the same badge as you and stand together as we protect this city.
(The phone rings again. Both men know it’s Mendoza and Kowalski presses the speaker phone button again quickly.)
Mendoza: So Frank Zacharski had a little rat kid. Oooh I’m quakin’ in my boots! Why don’t you washed up losers hang it up already!
Zacharski: Mendoza! I think you oughta know we ain’t playin’ by no rules anymore. Me and Kowalski got your girlfriend hostage, if you don’t show your dirty mug soon she’s gonna be toast.
Mendoza: Girlfriend?! I got girls all over this city. And one of em is the commissioner’s wife! (evil laugh)
Zacharski: Your treachery knows no bounds!
Kowalski: (whispering to Zacharski) This aint workin’ partnah. We gotta try somethin’ else…
Zacharski: We got your son too, Mendoza!
Kowalski: If you want to keep him alive you’ll turn yourself in you son of a bitch!
Mendoza: You took my son!
Zacharski: That’s right, we got Walt, you spineless bastard!
Kowalski: TURN YOURSELF IN YOU SON OF A FUCKIN’ BITCH!
Mendoza: WALT! WALLLLLLLLLT!
(A long silence permeates the room. A brief err of sadness is heard on Mendoza’s end. The officers realize they’ve struck a nerve.)
Kowalski: My god Zacharski, are we the animals now?
Zacharski: Sometimes you gotta do the wrong thing to get the right outcome. Maybe Johnson was right to take away our badges.
Kowalski: We’re too far in now, we need to get this bastard Mendoza.
Zacharski: Mendoza, we don’t want to hurt the boy…he’s a good kid. But it’s gonna get ugly real soon unless you confess to the murder of my father and turn yourself in to the commissionah.
Mendoza: I love my son, and you’re right, he’s a good kid, but if you think I’m walkin’ into the station on a silver platter, you’ve got another think comin’!
(From around the corner, the commissioner comes stomping in after eavesdropping again)
Commissioner: Guys I got the goddamned bureau breathing down my neck about this shit already, I don’t need another dead body on my streets.
Zacharski: Johnson, you don’t know the first thing about good police work no more. You’ve been off the streets too long.
Kowalski: Johnson you’ve been a slave to the system since you decided an office job was more important than keeping the streets clean. I have no respect for a pencil-pushing cop like you.
Zacharski: Maybe sitting in the office all day is how you got ED, commish.
(A soft chuckle is heard from the speakerphone)
Kowalski: You laughing at something Mendoza?
Mendoza: (still laughing) No wonder his wife is sleeping around.
Kowalski: You gonna take this Johnson? You gonna let this dirty crook say something like that to you?
Mendoza: Like you nim-wits said, he’s a pencil pusher. Paper jockey. Office bitch. Even if he had it, he aint got it no more. Not even his dick is hard anymore.
Commissioner: I can’t take this no more. I’ll kill every single one of you rat bastards!
Zacharski: Sounds like the old Johnson is finally back!
Kowalski: Come on Johnson let’s take this son of a bitch down!
Zacharski: If we could ever do it, it’s now. We got the dream team- the wily veteran, the old school hothead, and the young wild card. Mendoza is dead meat!
Commissioner: You think I don’t wanna be out there with youse guys?! Bah God, someone has to be responsible and do the paperwork!
(A call comes in from the other line, Commissioner John Johnson presses the speakerphone button, putting Mendoza on hold)
The Bureau: Boy’s I’m hearing word of a very unconventional approach to the Sanchez gang, specifically, its leader Mendoza. Listen here: Stop with this goddamn nonsense. Johnson, Kowalski, Zacharski, you’re all off the case; we’ve received intel that Mendoza was set up, he was framed for, yes, you know…MURDER… now stop chasing the guy and get back to your work at the office ASAP as possible. You can trust me, I’m from the Bureau and I’m definitely not working with Mendoza… Bye now.
(The call is ended and the Commissioner quickly hits the button to change the call)
Commissioner: Mendoza? Mendoza you son of a bitch are you still there?? This is Johnson! (lifts the phone, listens, hears nothing, and slams it back down) God dammit. I’m going to set their asses straight (puts on his coat and hat, preparing to go out into the rainy night)
Kowalski: How can we trust the Bureau? They’re more crooked than our own department.
Commissioner: (Opens the door, standing in the doorway, hand on the handle) Bah God, someone’s gotta be worth a damn down there at that god forsaken Bureau. (Slams the door and is heard starting his car and peeling out)
Zacharski: Kowalski I recognized that cadence anywhere, that aint the Bureau, that’s Mendoza’s long time pal Hernandez. ‘Sides Mendoza he’s the biggest scum bag this side of the Mississippi!
Kowalski: Hernandez has worked for the Bureau ever since they busted him for smugglin’ peanuts across the Mexican border. As part of their Cons-to-Cops program they gave him a job on the force after he vowed to help bring down Mendoza and his gang. But any cop with his wits about him knows he’s still in the business of empowering Mendoza. This kind of corruption goes all the way to the top…
Zacharski: You don’t think this climbs all the way to the president do ya?
Kowalski: Don’t be ridiculous! …but…maybe…
(Just then, Kowalski’s computer wakes from its screen saver and the Commissioner’s face appears on a live video stream)
Commissioner: Guys, I’m sending this message from inside the Bureau, I don’t have much time before they track my cell phone and find out where I’m located. The Bureau has been compromised. It’s up to you to finish the mission. I just wanted to let you boys know I…
(Video freezes and closes before the screen goes black and the computer starts to smoke)
Kowalski: Sweet Jesus Johnson…
Zacharski: We gotta get outta here before that computer machine explodes!
(Kowalski and Zacharski grab their coats and hats as they race out of the building and jump onto the pavement outside the police department just as the computer explodes from inside, shattering the windows, leaving small plumes of smoke pouring out of the newly broken windows. The fire alarm begins to go off as Kowalski and Zacharski pick their heads up from under a small layer of shattered glass. A black Mercedes Benz with black rims and tinted windows pulls up to the curb. The driver’s window rolls down, revealing Hernandez)
Hernandez: Well well well…you figured it out. Guess the commissionah was right when he said you boys were the best coppers in the field…nice detective work. But me and Mendoza have something planned…something big that will bring down every cop in this shitty city. No one can stop us now!
(The back window rolls down, revealing Mendoza.)
Mendoza: Don’t give too much away, Hernandez. But then again, it probably won’t mattah, considering the fact that you cops are such a damn comedy routine!
Kowalski: Mendoza, we still have your son. Hernandez we have guys out after your son too!
(Zacharski holds out his phone, showing Kowalski a text message from the Commissioner. It reads: “I cracked boys…I’m sorry”)
Zacharski: Now that you boys know our inside information, you got no chance of gettin your boys back. We’re gonna tell them who you really are, a buncha thieves, crooks, and moyderahs!
(A text tone is heard. It’s another text from Johnson. It reads: “If I don’t make it outta here, tell Barbara I never loved her.” Zacharski puts his phone away, shaking his head. But at the same time he puts his phone away, he uses the same hand to sneakily grab his gun, pulls it out, and aims it at the car)
Zacharski: Alright boys step outta the got damned vehicle with your hands to the freakin’ sky!
José Esteban LosForbes: I wouldn’t do that if I were you…
(Jose steps through a cloud of steam given off by a street exhaust pipe. He is dressed in a 3 piece, pin striped suit.
Kowalski: What the?!
Zacharski: Get out of here, Jose, we know whose team you’re on!
Jose: Oh yeah, whose is that?
Kowalski: Really, whose team is he on?
Zacharski: That’s Jose Esteban LosForbes, though his reputation has earned him a few otha names, too. He’s the most crooked lawyer I ever did meet- he’ll say anything he’s paid to.
Jose: That’s right ya bunch of cock sucking two-faced, white-collar criminals. It’s me Jose. If you want to stay out of trouble, you better be willing to spend double…and better call Jose. I know the Jewdicial system like the back of a dollar bill!
Hernandez: Yeah, and right now he’s working for us. Not that we need it! You got nothin’ on us, especially not the boy- I never loved that kid. That’s the thing about being an evil mastermind…you let go of all family ties…something you should have learned, Zacharski, after I MURDERED your DIRTY, GOOD-FOR-NOTHIN’ snitch of a fathah!
Mendoza: God dammit Hernandez would you get your shit togethah! You’re always flyin’ off the handle! Get us outta here!
Kowalski: Mendoza you son of a bitch I know you’ve been calling the shots for years now, don’t think his confession gets you off the hook!
Mendoza: Oh yeah? Well you seemed to be forgetting the fact that you still got nothin’ on us. Which is exactly why we thought we’d give you a hand!
(A severed human arm is tossed out the window, landing in front of the two officers, still warm and leaking blood.)
Hernandez: This is what happens when you cross the Sanchez brothers!
(The tires spin and screech as the window rolls up and the car peels out)
Zacharski: Jesus Christ in heaven!
Kowalski: The ring finger! It has the Commissioner’s wedding ring on it! Fuckin’ animals!
Zacharski: When will this madness end? The man is a racquetball player, how the hell is supposed to do that now?
(Kowalski’s cell phone rings, it’s Mendoza)
Mendoza: One more thing. Just so you know, we’ve got the Commissioner, armless.
(The Commissioner is put on the phone, blubbering)
Commissioner: I never wanted none of this. I joined the force back in my teens because I was an at-risk youth from the Bronx, not cause I wanted to do any good… (crying)
Mendoza: (taking back the phone) (to the Commissioner) Alright shut up goddammit! (Back to the phone) Now listen and listen good. We can still reattach his other arm- we’re keeping it on ice… but you’ve only got two hours to return our sons and drop this case before the second arm goes to the dogs!
Zacharski: There’s no way in hell you’re getting the boys back now. Chop off his pecker for all I care. You’re finished Mendoza, I swear on my father’s grave!
Mendoza: Funny you should say that, because we dropped Hernandez off at the cemetery. He wanted a few minutes to give your dad’s grave the Frank Underwood treatment! (cackles)
Zacharski: You just made a big mistake, we’ve been watching the grave like a hawk for weeks. We’ve got you now you dirty Hispanic sonuvabitch!
(Zacharski hangs up the phone, stands upright, and brushes himself off)
Zacharski: Get up Kowalski, we’re going on a little field trip to the county cemetery…
(The next scene opens at the cemetery, where several squad cars are surrounding Hernandez who is standing in front of Frank Zacharski’s grave, freshly urinated upon. A dozen cops, including Zacharski and Kowalski, are bent over the hoods of their cars, aiming their firearms at him.)
Hernandez: So you finally got me surrounded… well, YOU’LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!
(Hernandez whips out two pistols and begins firing them blindly at the cops on either side of him as he makes a run for a gap between two cop cars. Kowalski runs from behind him and tackles him to the ground, restraining Hernandez)
Zacharski: (Screams with victory) We got him, we got Hernandez!
Hernandez: How, how did you know to already be here?! He sold me out didn’t he! That piece of shit brothah of mine! I’ll haunt you, Mendoza! I never thought my own brothah…my own flesh and blood…would tell the damn pig boys I was comin’ here!
Kowalski: We didn’t hear anything from Mendoza, you jackass.
Hernandez: But…but…how else would you have known?!
(One of the squad cars’ passenger door opens. A large, dark, ominous figure steps out onto the dewy, early morning grass. The sun begins to rise above the horizon, revealing the face, and belly of the man.)
Woman in the crowd: Oh my god, it’s the Dirty Sanchez!
Miguel Enrique Sanchez: That’s right, it was me, your father.
Zacharski: He’s been a mole for the Bureau ever since his only two sons cut him out of the cartel back in ’89.
Miguel: You are no son of mine. No son of mine would defile another man’s grave. Especially not an accident of a son like you.
Hernandez: Wha…What do you mean?!
Miguel: You’re only here because I fucked that whore Dolores from up the street…stupid broad was always too drunk to take her birth control…
(From over a hill, across the cemetery, we see Mendoza standing just outside his car door, watching the whole thing. He turns to Jose)
Mendoza: Jose, you better start perfecting your trade, we’re going to need some seriously legal expertise to get my idiot baby brothah out of this one…
Jose: Yeah, well you better have some deep pockets, cause this is gonna be a challenge even for a scam artist like myself. Fortunately for you, a certain judge owes me a fayvah. But like I said, you better be the little Richie McRichardson you claim to be, cause ain’t nothin’ I do is fo’ free.
Miguel: You’re going down, and with god as my witness that villain of a brother is gonna join you, you dirty piece of shit.
(Hernandez is being cuffed and forced into the back of a cop car)
Hernandez: You picked the wrong team to play for, daddio. When shit hits the fan, you’re gonna wish you hadn’t done this…
Kowalski: Zacharski, now that we’ve got Hernandez behind bars, I’m gonna be going off the grid for the next few days. I’ve been putting some clues together and I think I’m starting to uncover something big. Now is the perfect time to investigate, but I can’t take you with me and risk your life on my suspicions. But if I’m right, this could bring down the whole damn family.
Miguel: Hey, watch it, they’re still my boys…even if I agree that it’s best that they’re behind bars…
Zacharski: Yeah well you just helped us sign their death warrants!
Miguel: You said the death penalty was off the fuckin’ table!
Kowalski: We may have to renegotiate.
(Kowalski climbs into his squad car and drives off. Miguel clenches his fists tightly as a single tear runs down his grimacing face)
Zacharski: (Screams as he looks around) If you’re out there Mendoza, your days are numbered! We got your mugshot…you wont be able to hide for long!
Mendoza: (From across the cemetery, in his car now, but with the window rolled down) NOTHIN’ A LITTLE PLASTIC SURGERY CANT FIX. GOOD LUCK, YOU DUMBASS DONUT-EATERS! (His car speeds onto the road and into the fog)
(The rest of the cops clean up the mess at the cemetery and clear out. The fog replaces their presence, and the last to leave is a kneeling Zacharski, staring hard at his father’s grave.)
(The scene opens in an empty warehouse. Miguel Sanchez is standing behind chest-high stacks of boxes. He is apparently being fellated. His moans are interrupted by Mendoza)
Mendoza: Hey! What the fuck are you doing? Don’t tell me you’re getting blowies from that Tranny again?
Miguel: (slurring) Aw, come on, son. Your mother been gone bout ten years now…let me alone.
Mendoza: But Daaad! I’m serious. (To the TRANsvestite) Hey slut, get on your feet and get the hell outta here.
TRANsvestite: But he aint even busted yet?
Mendoza: If you wait around any longer, you’re gonna get more than you paid for. GO!
(TRANsvestite gets up, grabs her purse and some cash sitting on top of it and runs out as fast as her heels will let her.)
Mendoza: Seriously, you are supposed to be guarding the base. This is the main post and we trust you to watch it now that you realize you can’t trust the cops either and came back to the dark side. Plus, even if the feds find you here, they still trust you. But you can’t be getting ham-sauced and you definitely can’t be calling your lady-boys for private visits. This is serious bidness. You get me? Hey? You get me?
(Miguel has started to fall asleep leaning against some crates, without finishing buttoning his pants)
Mendoza: Jesus Christ, why don’t you button up and lay down. I can watch over the warehouse while you sleep this off.
(He helps Miguel lay down for a nap, taking off his own jacket and bunching it up as a pillow. As he walks back around the first row of crates, he is stopped by the cold, metal feeling of a pistol being pressed against his temple.)
Kowalski: What a good son. If he didn’t have tranny slobber all over his Mexican cock, that little exchange might have been halfway cute. Now why don’t you get your hands where I can see ‘em and lay yourself down like your old man.
Mendoza: Alright, take it easy. It’s just us out here, but if one of my guys shows up, things could go very differently for you. So let’s just figure this thing out.
Kowalski: There ain’t gonna be no discussion you dirty dog. And you wanna know why?
Mendoza: (now lying on the ground with his hands behind his head, Kowalski standing over him, gun still aimed at his head) And why’s that? (sarcastically)
Kowalski: Because Zacharski and the boys are on their way over right now! You and your whole asshole family are gonna be grabbin’ your ankles in the big house by next week. That’ll give you scumbags some bonding time- hell, maybe the prison psychologist can finally help you cope with not having a mommy all your life.
Mendoza: You know what dickbag, as soon as I get off the ground you’re gonna be sorry.
Kowalski: Yeah well I don’t think that’s happening any time soon.
(Just then, Miguel stands up from behind the crates, sleepily rubbing his eyes)
Kowalski: Hey, hands up motherfucker! Get out around here where I can see you!
Miguel: Ermm, um, eermm…
Kowalski: I mean it you rat, don’t make me shoot!
Mendoza: He’s drunk, leave him alone!
Kowalski: I’m gonna count to three you two-timing snake!
Miguel: Erm, what…
Mendoza: Fuck you, knock it off Kowalski!
Miguel: What time is it…
Mendoza: Padre get down!
(Kowalski fires once and hits Miguel in the chest, he spins, and falls to the floor)
Mendoza: Holy Fuck…you cocksucker… (startled)
Kowalski: He knew the rules.
(Sirens are distantly heard outside)
Kowalski: (Staring toward a window on the side of the building from which the sound is coming) Sounds like the boys are almost here. Good for your dad, maybe if they get here quick enough he’ll be doing push ups underneath a man named Buster instead of pushing up daisies.
(Mendoza pulls a gun from his leg holster and aims it up at Kowalski)
Mendoza: A a good man is hard to find… but a hard man is good to find. Too bad you aren’t either!
Kowalski: (now with his gun out, in a stand-off) Yeah? What’s your plan bad boy? The rest of the boys in blue will be here soon, and while we couldn’t find any clues at your past cold-blooded moydah sites, they know I’m here and you don’t have time to cover it up.
Mendoza: (backing up to a crate, still aiming at Kowalski) What happens if when they show up, there ain’t a “here” no more!
Kowalski: What in the front-butt do you mean?
(with his free hand, Mendoza pulls off the side of a crate, revealing four kegs of beer)
Mendoza: I’d like to introduce you to the Sanchez family’s best- Tres equis!
Kowalski: I just don’t understand…
Mendoza: You see, as it turns out, getting beer over the Mexican border is a lot easier than transporting kegs of nitroglycerin. A few thousand fake beer stickers later and we have an “explosive” business.
Kowalski: You son of a bitch…
(Mendoza now moves his arm to point his gun at the kegs)
Mendoza: One shot in the wrong direction and this whole place goes ka-pow!
Kowalski: Take it easy, amigo…
Mendoza: Don’t fucking patronize me, bendejo!
Kowalski: (stepping forward) Just put the gun down, and we all walk outta here with our lives…
Mendoza: Step back cockbreath!
Kowalski: (Stopping) Okay, but I can’t let you blow this place to smithereens. There are good men outside, men with families. Think about what you’re doing…
Mendoza: Looks like there’s only one thing to do then (cocks his gun and points back at the kegs)
(Just then, a dark haired man in a black, celtic football club jacket and khakis flings open the door and runs in, screaming as if he were running through a hail of gunfire. Pretty soon, he was. Startled and nervous, Kowalski turns and fires several rounds at the man, missing twice but hitting him in the stomach once, unsure whose side he was on. The man keeps running full steam ahead, and before Kowalski fires another shot, he realizes the path of the man is headed straight toward Mendoza. So, Kowalski reaches over and knocks the gun from Mendoza’s hands just as he’s about to fire on the man too. The dark haired man leaps and tackles Mendoza to the ground, zip-tying his hands and ankles together. Meanwhile Kowalski checks on Miguel around the corner of the crates, but he has bled out. Kowalski comes back around the corner, keeping his gun at the ready)
Kowalski: And just who in blue blazes might you be?
(Just then, the warehouse garage door slides open and dozens of police and swat run in, led by Zacharski and a one-armed Commissioner Johnson)
Commissioner: Alright everybody but Kowalski get your god damn hands in the air. My name is Commissioner John Johnson and I’m here to kick some ass!
Kowalski: Commish, this fella right here just saved the day! He tackled Mendoza before he turned this place into one giant pipe bomb and saved all our lives!
Commissioner: Bah God, is this true?!
Strange man: It is, sir.
Zacharski: Is Mendoza the only one around here?
Swat team member: (from behind some crates) We got a body over here!
Kowalski: Other than a dead Miguel Sanchez, yes.
Commissioner: Well mister, we’re all smitten by your heroic actions, but what in the hell were you thinking?! By the sounds of it, if Mendoza had gotten a shot off you would have killed us all!
Mystery man: Well sir, this here’s my warehouse. Goofy mezkins been rentin’ it fo a while… I noticed all the beer, but I known somethin’ was funny a-cuz I never heard of that beer afore, and I knows my beer. Name’s James Nix, by the way.
Zacharski: But that still doesn’t explain the risk!
James Nix: Well ya see, it just so happens I got a few kegs a my own, for, personal use. But the wife don’t like me drankin so much, so I store mine in ‘ere. Just so happened he wadnt pointin his gun at splosives at all. He let’s that round go off, all that happens is you coppers got some Busch light to mop up.
Commissioner: Well, mister Nix, you just helped us take down one of the most despicable villains this country has ever seen. You’re a god damn hero.
James Nix: Just keepin my beer and my country safe.
Mendoza: If you stupid doughnut eaters think me and Hernandez cant break out and be out on the streets within the month, you’re all off your rockers!
Zacharski: Yeah, well if you ever do, you got the dream team waiting for youse guys.
Mendoza: Jose?! Do something?!
(Jose is standing outside the warehouse, but is on the phone and turns his back to Mendoza while holding up his index finger. Mendoza is shoved into the back of a squad car, as homicide cleans up the corpse of Miguel Sanchez)
Kowalski: But James, what about your stomach?? I shot you?!
James: (lifting up his shirt, revealing a bullet-proof vest) Snagged this’un from one a your buddies outside. Figured I might need it with all the commotion goin’ on.
Commissioner: Alright boys, let’s get outta here. I am starvin’ and my wife is making her famous meatballs. I’ll call the broad and let her know to make a few more plates. That means you too, James, you crazy bastard.
James: Thank ya, sir. But after all this I think I need a cold one.
Zacharski: Or two!
Kowalski: Or 69!
Commissioner: You know, they say there’s a ham sandwich in every beer. And I can always heat up meatballs when I get home. Let’s put our feet up for once.
(The four men loosen their ties, unbutton their top buttons, and each grab a crate for a seat. James goes to a shelf on the wall and gets a tap and some pint glasses as Kowalski pulls over one of the kegs.
James: Woah woah woah, wrong keg there buddy!
Kowalski: Jiminy Crickets, that coulda been bad!
Zacharski: Oh, Kowalski, I guess that’s one way of getting plastered!