أول 193 سطر.
Eternity.
Imagine a place where perfection is timeless,
where wisdom meets beauty...
romance meets revelation...
every time is like the first time...
...except you look even better.
What's your secret?
I'll never tell.
Neither will we.
Toscani's face cream.
Aging doesn't have to be torture.
Unh.
Herr Starr,
he wanted to put you in the sun to burn,
but I said no.
I said, "Let me take care of him.
'Cause this guy is special.
This guy..."
"...deserves a forever home."
Oh, hey.
You're gonna love Bensonhurst.
Freak! Go back to the circus!
God's gone.
What the...
Can I help you?
Oh, my.
A preacher.
Yeah. There's a kid upstairs.
- At the window. He seems pretty scared. - Mm.
Nothing more deliciously winsome than a fearful child.
Which is why he's booked through the week.
I was hoping you weren't gonna say something like that.
But then, you did.
We're over here. Come join us.
Dr. Lee to the infirmary.
Mm.
I know it's not Christian of me
but I hope they hang that preacher when they catch him.
Nah.
He's gone.
Luckily, you're fine.
A few contusions, scrapes, and bumps,
but no broken bones, no hemorrhaging.
Okay, good.
Never been a big hemorrhager.
So, back to work.
Got this co-worker can't find his ass
without me holding the flashlight.
Love the dedication.
We'll have you outta here in no time.
You said I was fine.
On the outside.
But before you go,
I'd like to run a psychological test
just to make sure
there aren't any deeper, unseen traumas
we may have missed.
That be okay?
Man, that sounds... oh, mm.
What time is it?
It's, uh, 20 after 5:00.
Oh, flip. My shift starts at 5:30.
- Gimme a rain check? - I'm sorry.
I can't release you without it.
Hey, doc?
You've touched my shoulder twice now,
and I'm fine.
I think you need to just relax
and lie back down.
Aah!
I said don't touch me!
Ow!
Bitch.
Nobody...
...touches me.
Aah!
Here you go, doc.
I got it now.
I've worked with guys like you before.
Screw-ups, meatheads.
The repeat clients.
Guys who couldn't get outta their own way.
You know, they piss and moan
about being "unlucky" or some shit,
but it ain't luck that keeps 'em comin' back.
It's guilt.
For some reason,
they think they deserve it.
So, here we are,
lost in thought,
plotting our next move,
scheming our bloody revenge.
He's sick, sadistic, cruel.
Even by Brooklyn standards.
We can only imagine the upbringing
that would produce such a rough-handed hooligan
as that man.
We won't be happy
until he's dying, gutted and gasping at our feet.
Right?
So, what's the plan?
What are we gonna do to get out of this one?
Nothing.
Right.
We lie in wait.
We wait,
poised patiently in the tall grass,
and then, when the time's right,
we pounce and slash and rip and feast!
I mean, I'm not gonna do anything.
All right?
Just let him take me.
Oh.
That's boring.
I like our other plan better.
- And for you? - Whiskey.
No whiskey.
- What? - This is a family establishment.
Chicken meat shakes is one thing,
but if you want whiskey on top of it,
you boys best keep movin' on.
Order up!
He sent me to Hell.
No?
No.
What do you have in mind that would suit him better?
Mm.
Someone comes along, kills your family,
ruins your life, sends you to Hell?
In my book,
an apology don't beat a bullet to the brain.
Well, we'll see what God's plan is for that.
...and that was the last time
she wore a bikini at breakfast, believe me!
Anyway...
You ever see "Hoosiers"?
The film about the white boys
that almost win the basketball tournament?
Remember what got you here.
Focus on the fundamentals
that we've gone over time and time again.
If you put your effort and concentration
into playing to your potential,
to be the best that you can be,
I don't care what the scoreboard says
at the end of the game,
in my book, we're gonna be winners!
Okay?!
Or not.
So, Bensonhurst.
Hmm.
Named after Egbert himself.
Great man, if you like bastards.
Cannoli City.
Mm.
The Jewel of 18th Avenue.
I can smell the Italians already...
and the Chinamen.
We're one lucky dog.
Bensonhurst sucks.
Then why are we going?
'Cause I got nowhere else to go.
Nowhere else I deserve to go.
I'm sensing backstory.
Sod off! How am I...
How am I supposed to get any place
with you lot acting...
You're all grown now, Proinsias.
No more messin' around.
The Brotherhood is countin' on you.
Send those British wankers home.
Oh, I will, sir. I will.
Good lad.
Go.
Make the Cassidys proud.
I'm gonna make all of Ireland proud.
You're gonna see that.
Grammy B.
Well, I'll be keepin' your Easter supper warm
for when you come home to me.
Only if Da don't fleece it first.
If he so much as lays a hand on it, I'll box his ears.
I know you will, Grammy B. I know.
That'll be Billy. He's come to collect me.
Hey, there, Billy!
Heya, Proinsias.
Hello, Mrs. Cassidy.
Right.
Well, you boys take care of each other.
Oh, we will.
Those lord muck Brits
are messin' with the wrong blokes.
Isn't that right, there, Billy?
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