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: He said... he said it wasn't such a good day to die. Nelson Wright
: Thank you.
: I don't know. Not thinking about the past or the future. I don't know it's difficult to explain, maybe impossible. David Labraccio
: Yeah, dying is quite that way.
: You should have told us, Nelson. Nelson Wright
: You wouldn't have done it. David Labraccio
: At least we would've had a choice!
: [screaming at a religious stained-glass portrait
] I'm sorry... we *trespassed* on your... *fucking* territory. God! I'm *sorry*!
: Hey! Hey, Fellatio! Got a match? Well, I do! Your face and my ass! Your breath made of buffalo farts! David Labraccio
: Do I know you? Young Winnie
: You don't know jack-shit! Butt-wipe! Needle-dick! Cock-bite! Jack-off! Limp-wrist! Corn-hole! Banana-breath! Shit-bird! Bird-turd! Turd-face! Kiss-ass! Brown-nose! Macho wimp! Limp dick! Fart-face! Tire merchant! What's the matter? Gonna cry? Come on, Crybaby Davie! Cry! Cry! Cry! Shit-face! Rat-turd! Ass-licking son of a bitch!
: I haven't been that ugly little girl in years. David Labraccio
: You were never ugly.
: [In the car
] Billy Mahoney died seventeen years ago. Whether or not he is, Nelson feels responsible. David Labraccio
: Oh shit! Where did he go? Randy Steckle
: He took off mumbling something about making amends. Joe Hurley
: How the hell do you make amends with someone who's already dead? David Labraccio
: I don't know.
[pauses and then looks at Joe
] David Labraccio
: You don't think he would try to flatline without us, do you? Joe Hurley
: It would be suicide. David Labraccio