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: Don't you "Don't get riled, sugar" me! You ain't goin' back on the road no more, and you ain't playin' them ol' two-bit sleazy dives. You're livin' with me now, and you not gonna go slidin' around witcho ol' white hoodlum friends. Matt Murphy
: But babes, this is Jake and Elwood, the Blues Brothers. Mrs. Murphy
: The Blues Brothers? Shit! They still owe you money, fool. Jake
: Ma'am, would it make you feel any better if you knew that what we're asking Matt here to do is a holy thing? Elwood
: You see, we're on a mission from God. Mrs. Murphy
: Don't you blaspheme in here! Don't you blaspheme in here! This is my man, this is my restaurant, and you two are just gonna walk right out that door without your dry white toast, without your four fried chickens, and without Matt 'Guitar' Murphy!
: We got two honkies out there dressed like Hasidic diamond merchants. Matt Murphy
: Say what? Mrs. Murphy
: They look like they're from the CIA, or somethin'. Matt Murphy
: What they want to eat? Mrs. Murphy
: The tall one wants white bread, toasted, dry, with nothin' on it. Matt Murphy
: Elwood. Mrs. Murphy
: And the other one wants four whole fried chickens and a Coke. Matt Murphy
: And Jake. Shit, the Blues Brothers!