Written by Maggie the Cat
The Waterfront, after hours.
TIM BAYLISS: Just take it down, okay?
JOHN MUNCH: What is the problem, Tim?
TB: I don't like having it there while we do this.
JM: You're not making sense. It's just a picture. A
picture of _us_. Considering the fact that we're
getting a little more intimate here than business
partners usually do, I fail to see why that novelty
photo is bothering you--"
[BAM! The photo of them dressed as old-time police
hits the floor.]
MELDRICK LEWIS: Awright, it's down. Now shut _up_!
TB: Yes _sir_. Never thought you'd be so domineering,
ML: Yeah, well, Timmy--there's a lot you gonna find out
about--Jesus, John, that's my cock, not a fuckin'
JM: I'm sorry, Meldrick. I'm in a funny position and I
think I'm getting a crick in my neck. Maybe lockjaw.
Whose bright idea was it do it on the bar, anyway?
TB: Uh...that'd be me.
JM: You're cleaning up tomorrow, then.
ML: Y'all gonna talk all night or whut?
JM: He's pretty cranky, huh?
TB: Oh, I don't think it's crankiness, John. I think
Meldrick here just isn't getting
ML: Ooohhhhhh, yeah....
JM: Wow, looks that way, huh? Well, since you're
cleaning up, Tim, I might as well give you a hand....