INT. MO PITKIN’S OFFICE - NIGHT

Barry (60), a hardened mobster, looms over Mo Pitkin (42), who sits at his desk. The desk is a mess of bills and invoices.

                            MO

            Barry, I’m not even paying my guys.

                            BARRY

            Mo, with the vig, you still owe me

            ten.

                            MO

            I’m almost there! I’m gonna pay

            you!

                            BARRY

            No, no, no... We had a very simple

            deal. Your place was falling apart,

            and I helped you make it nice

            again. Huh? Correct?

                           

                            MO

            Yes--.

                            BARRY

            No, don’t answer!

                            MO

            Look, John Lee jacked up my rent

            again--.

                            BARRY

            What the fuck do I care about your

            rent? The Chinaman ain’t gonna break

            your legs. Huh?

                            MO

            Alright Barry, look, I need the

            weekend. Sunday night.

                            BARRY

                     (deeply offended)

            Sunday night is fucking family night.

Mo groans.

                       

                            BARRY

            Alight, you want Sunday night? But then

            you’re going to be seeing two of my less

            forgiving guys. And they ain’t gonna take

            no five, I’ll tell you that.

Barry gives Mo a not-so-playful slap and walks out.