how you doing, tony?

how you doing, tony?

ive been better.

how are the wrists?

fucked up.

i see youre still writing.

i see youre still eating.

all that happens to you and youre still a funny boy, huh?

i know you didnt call me boy.

thats right, you moolans get a little irritated with that word. sometimes i forget that you’re more than just a punk. you’re a black punk.

is there something i can help you with, soprano?

merely wanted to pay my respects and see if i could offer my assistance to the invalid.

you break my wrists, destroy my apartment, and steal my Tsar cds and now you come to the scene of the crime to “offer assistance?” i dont want your freaky assistance. i dont want to ever see you again. i paid you your money. and your interest. i gave you moxie’s cell phone number. i put up those pictures of ashley. with all due respect, i believe that ive lived up to my side of the deal.

as a matter of fact you did, tony pierce. you did.

so why are you here?

like i said, im here to offer assistance.

why do you keep saying that?

let me put it another way. i like your style. you took your punishment like a man, you paid your penance, you showed courage, and youre playing through the pain.


so we could use someone like you. and we think you’d appreciate the freedom and the benefits of the position.

we? oh, we. uh, no. no, thank you.

little stevie is going on tour with bruce for an extended period and there will be an opening at the bada bing.

mr. soprano, the offer is generous and i am flattered, but i am very happy with my present employer.

thats not what my people tell me.

your people are mistaken.

yes, it appears that they are.

good evening, mr. soprano.

yeah, see you around, super agent.

best website by a legal teenage girl: chelle

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