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: Good news, Mr. McKenna! Pops
: All right, boys! Bring on the whore! Mitch
: No, it's not a whore - we're gonna get you the fifty thousand dollars for your heart transplant! Pops
: Well, that's good too.
: I'm in whore heaven!
: Back then we didn't have these fancy birth control methods. Like pulling out.
: Let me take you to Vegas, baby! You know what they say, it ain't over till the fat lady checks into a cheap hotel with Pops.
: You didn't tell him, did you? Mitch
: Oh, no, no. Pops
: Thanks. Mitch
: But look, I still want to, and I, I can't promise you that I won't.
[Pops reaches forward. Mitch remembers when Pops grabbed his groin in a blackmail maneuvre earlier and lunges for the floor with a yell
: I'm just getting my photo album! What are you so jumpy about? Mitch
: I don't know. Maybe it's your, your lifelong pattern of random assault.