The Deuce, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TV

Boulevard Employment

HBO original drama The Deuce drops its sixth episode tonight.

#Thedeuce has been renewed for a second season.

rottentomatoes: 93%

imdb: 8.3

metacritic: 86

***SPOILERS AHEAD***


[polldaddy poll=9852171]



The Deuce, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TVVinnie Martino, The Deuce, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TV, James FrancoVincent Martino

Brooklyn bartender Vinnie Martino is forced to actively seek alternative fiscal opportunities causing him to get involved in the burgeoning adult film industry.


Vinnie Martino, The Deuce, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TV, James Franco“That’s all right, hon.  You go on home.  All right.  Look, I’m sor– I already made the drop.  I would if I could.  I’m sorry.  Please, I’ve got two little kids.  P-please don’t shoot me.  Please, for my kids.  God… damn it.  Fuck.” — Vinnie Martino

“Where’s Andrea?  What for?  Out where?  Where’s your daughter?” — Vinnie Martino

“Oh, shit.  God damn it.  Kim, it’s Vinnie.  Yeah, listen, I can’t be there for the distributor this morning.  Just send Duk or the other guy, your cousin.  All right, listen to me, I got robbed tonight with a gun.  All right?  My head got banged up real good.  I’m still bleeding.  Kim, I nearly got fucking killed.  Why?  I’ll tell you why.  I gotta work both sides of the river seven fucking nights a week to make enough for me and my fucking family!  Kim!  God…” — Vinnie Martino

“I see the Walker Red.  Get rid of the crème de menthe already.  Nobody drinks that shit.  Fucking happy now, Kim?  He got my blood on his shoes, I know that much.” — Vinnie Martino

“What?  Monticello?  Okay, guys?  My name’s Vincent.  Yeah.  I think so.  Look.  Last I heard, yeah.  Vietnam.  Frankie– he enlisted, join the Marines because he owes everybody in New York fucking City.  Yeah, I heard he’s already a war hero.  They’re gonna make him a sergeant or colonel or whatever.” — Vinnie Martino

“Can I give them last call?  Oh, come on, boss.” — Vinnie Martino

“Hey, where the fuck’s Jersey?  Heya, Ronnie.  The fuck?  Been looking for you all over.  Fuck is this?  That’s a pretty shirt.  What’d you do, you fly down to Puerto Rico to get that?  Yeah, the Mets are at the Reds in Cincy, right?  What’s the line?  New York’s due.  Who’s pitching tomorrow?  Seaver?  Hmm.  What do you think?  All right, all right?  Give me 100 on the Metropolitans.  Yeah, I got drafted by the Dodgers.  Slotted me for single-A ball.  I never even drank the cup of coffee.  Fuck it.  Too many rules, right?  I really do like that shirt.  Yeah, my sister’s got one just like it!” — Vinnie Martino

“I’m holding up my end.  But we’re dying here.   Don’t look at me.  Bar pulls money.  Some, anyway.  If you didn’t make me run off the whores and the street people before 11:00 it’d make more.  They gotta drink, too.  Yeah.  Where’s the fucking families?  I think it’s that kimchi shit you’re serving, or the dog meat or cat or whatever.  All right, well, no one eats Korean food, Kim, probably not even in Korea if they can fucking help it.  Why don’t you get someone in here, cook up some steaks or Italian?  All right, easy.  Just keep calm, alright?  Hey, hey, hey, keep your head, all right?  Don’t get all excited, for fuck’s sake.  Just give me a chance to think.  I’m in this with you.” — Vinnie Martino

“Here, I got it.  I got it.  You’re perfect, doll.  So, I’ll see you later?  Yeah?  Here.  You take one, you’re wide awake.  You take two, you’re gonna wanna redecorate the house.  And it keeps you trim.  Come on.  So… tonight.  All right.  Here you go.  What do you guys want?  All day.  Yeah.  How much?  So, why come to me?  I don’t steal from Kim, and I don’t steal across the river.  I’m not a thief.  All right, look, I got a bar I need to tend.  I gotta think about this, so maybe we can talk when it’s quieter.  I got it.” — Vinnie Martino

“Here you go.  Okay, we’ll see you, Lynda.  I’m taking Andrea to Luger’s for a late dinner.  I’m gonna surprise her.  I told you a week ago.  I– I got plans.  I’m taking my wife to dinner.” — Vinnie Martino

“Where is she?  Gowanus, right?  Or at the other bar down in Bensonhurst?” — Vinnie Martino

“Come on, we’re going home.  All right?  You had enough.  What the fuck are you wearing?  It’s too tight.  You’re a real fucking piece of work, you know that?  Her name is Andrea.  She’s my wife.” — Vinnie Martino

“Hey.  Give me a month.  I’ll pay up front.” — Vinnie Martino

“Hey, don’t bust balls, all right?  I’m trying to save this joint.  You look great.” — Vinnie Martino

“Leotards.  Put the girls in leotards and heels.  Parade a couple of them down the sidewalk as it was getting dark.  Yeah.  Tonight?  200 in tips, easy.  Drinks on me tonight, guys.  Sorry I don’t have a stool open for you.” — Vinnie Martino

“Not at all. Had some shit go badly across the river.  My home life.  Yeah.  The fuck can you do?  I’d complain, but I know that’s not what you’re here for.  Yeah.  All right, listen.  About my brother– and his 32 five large.  Look, I’ll cover the original bets, all right?  A thousand a week for the next 20 weeks, but on my salary there’s no way I’m gonna catch up to the vig.  Let me start with the money on the bets, then I’ll lean on him to get it right with the rest as soon as he’s flush.  The fuck can I do?  Look, I keep this bar hot, maybe I’ll clear 1,00 a week, if I’m lucky.  You want more, it’s gonna take more time.  That’s fine with me.” — Vinnie Martino

“Where the fuck you been?  Fuck you doing in Queens?  You’re still betting?  Bullshit.  Let me see.  This is going to that unhappy dago sitting down on that barstool a couple hours ago looking for you.  Leaning on me for 30 large.  Maybe because you were in Queens.  NO, Frankie.  We don’t fuck him.  This is gonna buy your ignorant, degenerate ass a week or two.  Yeah?  Well, ma ruined you.  What?  Me?  Quit on Dominic.  Oh, yeah, moved out of the house on Andrea.  Yeah.  I got a room this side of the river.  I’m done, out for good.  Positive.  The marriage is dead.  Say what you feel.  Yeah.  Dead dead.  Hundred percent?  The fuck?  Yes.  Uh-huh.  Fuck you.” — Vinnie Martino

“For you, officer?  What are you guys playing?  What can I get you?  Gin Rickey?  Grasshopper?  How about you?  So, what’d you do?  Spit on the sidewalk?  Oh.  What are you studying?  You speak English pretty good already.  You gotta go to more school for that?  I know Sabu.  Saw his pictures when I was a kid.  ‘Jungle Book,’ like that.  I manage it.  Oh, that?  That’s a whatchamacallit.  Innovation I came up with tonight.  See, the better they look, the more tips they make.  And it brings in the suit-and-tie trade into the bar.  Objecto-who?  You gotta slow down, kid.  I’m just a guinea from Brooklyn.  I don’t know what they think.  All I know is they made more money tonight than any night in here in months.  You know, you could do what they do.  i’d put you behind the stick in a second.  right.  I wouldn’t want to make you feel like, you know, a thing.  No one’s ever called me smart before.  Not ever, but thank you.  I’ll get her a cab, Danny.  Hey, your money’s no good here, officer.  See you soon, Danny.  I think this is what you were looking for.  Now, next time, you don’t go down to Hell’s Kitchen and deal with scum, all right?  Don’t you gotta study?  All right.  You know, you should get back,.  It’s gonna be light soon.  Catch the dawn, you feel like a vampire.  Let me get rid of this for you.” — Vinnie Martino

“I can’t?  I’ m working seven nights a week.  I’m trying to hold down a couple jobs– that’s right.  I’m working.  Oh, shit.  You know what?  Fuck that shit, okay?  Every time I turn around, there’s some asshole dago thinks he owns the world ’cause he’s in some fucking crew.  And your dad’s a fucking asshole.  And both your brothers are upstate from that shit.  I’m more than that now.  I’m managing a joint in Manhattan.  I should thank you for kicking me out of the nest.  I’m at the center of things now.  I’m building something.  So what?  Francis Albert’s from Hoboken.  He owns New York.  Junior maybe.  Tell the kids… just tell them I had to go.  And I’ll see them again.” — Vinnie Martino

“Ladies.  This hour, it’s still the office trade.  Crowd changes later on.  Sorry to hear it.  First one’s on me, but you gotta be discreet.  I don’t mind your business, but Kim don’t like you bringing it in here.  Not this early in the night, at least.  You got it.  Here you go.  Thanks.” — Vinnie Martino

“Because to Dom, I’m always just the fucking help.  Kim, he don’t know what the fuck’s going on, so I’m in charge.  It’s like my own place.  Plus, a lot of shit going on across the river, Times Square, the actions, tourists, celebrities now and then.  Jerry Van Dyke came into the bar the other night, ordered a mai tai.  Yeah, Jerry Van Dyke.  ‘My Mother the Car?’  Dick Van Dyke?  I’m doing something at the Korean place to make me some real money.  I pulled 700 on my take last weekend.  Yeah, you’re doing fine where you are.  You just made foreman.  Well, try leaving our sister alone for a minute.  Yeah.  Not underwear.  Leotards.  Hey, Bobby, you would fuck me twice to fuck them once.  Fuck me, you just used ‘venial’ in a sentence?” — Vinnie Martino

“He doesn’t like you, El.  He likes how you present.  Just saying.  Hey.  Well, it’s cool in here.  Don’t get all worked up.  There’s a topless bar out by the airport.  Exactly.  You know him?  What the hell’s carting?  Well, he’s also a Shylock.  Guess again.  Yeah.  Well, pardon me while I go kiss some familiar Italian ass.  Why don’t they just give it to you in the morning so you can go to the bank?  How much payroll do you got on the site?  Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re good.  Give me a second.” — Vinnie Martino

“Hey.  Doing what I can for you.  Fuck me.  I don’t steal from Kim.  I told you.  I’m working on it.” — Vinnie Martino

“They’ll be lining up every Friday.  So as long as we have the cash on hand, we’re gonna do good.  Oh.  My twin brother Frankie.  Frankie’s all right.  He just got a little problem with the wagers is all.  Anyway, that’s the offer, Mr. Pipilo.  truth be told, we don’t have the cash to cover my brother’s debt right now, but we’re gonna get it and deliver beyond what we owe.  Well, Bobby’s the inside guy.  I’m the manager.  It’s what I do– this place, every place I ever worked.  I will make sure that every penny is accounted for, Mr. Pipilo.  It’s a point of pride with me.  You make that happen?  Understood.  Understood.  Okay, Mr. Pipilo.  Rudy.  Got a room at the Lionel.  I got my own bathroom.  I don’t need much.  Hey, Thunder.  Punch boards come into the bar all time, sometimes with their pimps.  But, hey, their money spends and, end of the day, they gotta drink, too, just like anyone.  I don’t know, Rudy.  I just go to work everyday, make my cut.  What, you got some interest down here or something?” — Vinnie Martino

“Get the make-work money for Rudy?  See ya.” — Vinnie Martino

“Brought  me out here to look at the hotel?  Yeah, I heard of this place.  It’s a fag joint, right?  You own this place?  Hey.  Co-Cola.  Mind if I ask you something?  What’s with this place?  Deader than Bobby Kennedy in here.  Well, queer bars in the Village have been going strong for years, no offense.  What do you mean?  Blackmail.  So, what are you still doing here?  What’s that?  What’s your name?  Vincent.  See you, Paul. You can’t raise the dead.  Me?  No.  I already manage a joint.  Why would you do that for me?  Yeah, there’s still a debt.  I mean. nobody’s gonna forgive that.” — Vinnie Martino


Frankie Martino, The Deuce, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TV, James FrancoFrankie Martino


“Boo!  Hey, Ellen!  How about a ginger ale?  Put a little Crown Royal in it, you know, for color.  Hey, baby brother.  Working stiff.  Queens.  Well, they still take my bets there.  Winning.  I’m up 4,000.  Bullshit?  Look at that.  What the fuck?  Who?  Tommy Longo?  He came to you?  Why the fuck did he come to you?  Fuck him.  You know, I always said you was no fun.  You just proved it.  Yeah.  Thanks, doll.  Mmm.  Well, well, well.  So, what’s new?  Really?  You sure?  I don’t wanna say nothing bad about your wife, have you two get back together and have you mad at me forever.  Dead?  Like, for real dad?  Hundred percent?  Never going back?  All right.  Well, Drea kept her looks, I’ll give her that.  And considering her brothers are upstate, her father’s a Shylock, rest of her family’s a pack of fucking scumbag assholes, she ain’t that bad.  But if she had as many pricks sticking out of her as she’s had stuck in her, she’d be a fucking porcupine.  Okay…” — Frankie Martino

“No, no, but you’re an excellent card player.  Well, no luck so far, but still excellent.  One of these days, you’re gonna have all my money. Hey, what the fuck?” — Frankie Martino

“Yeah.  Yeah, except it ain’t.  Just saying.  Jerry?  Jerry Van Dyke.  Shit, I was in Dj Fara’s.  Dick Van Dyke’s in front of me ordering a slice.  Yeah, sausage and onion.  The fuck you doing jerking off Jerry Van Dyke on the wrong fucking side of the river?  Bullshit?  Fucking true.  Sausage and onion.  Looked he was about ready to sign ‘Chim Chimney’ any fucking second.  Yeah.  Yeah, or maybe putting a condiment on it.  Dresses up the waitresses.  Hey– they’re wearing underwear, bending over, spilling on you.  Yeah.  Hey, you’re married with children and lawn furniture, fucko.  You got a mortgage.” — Frankie Martino

“Susie.  Crown Royal, if you please.  What’s good?  Whoa, what the fuck?  Tommy fucking’ Longo… what is this, ‘The Patty Duke Show?”  Christ.” — Frankie Martino


Darlene, The Deuce, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TV, Dominique FishbackDarlene

“Hey, darling.  Other guy looks worse, right?” — Darlene

“Not for you, daddy.  You know I got a regular tonight.” — Darlene

“The fuck?!  Get off me!” — Darlene

“I think it’s gonna swell.  It already swole up, right?  That was a little rough.  My wrist also hurts.  I got you going, huh?” — Darlene

“He didn’t mean it, Larry.  He just got excited.  He’s a regular.  Every two weeks, a hundred to play pretend.  You saw.  He gave me an extra 20 for it.  He didn’t mean it.  I’ll tell him, Larry.  I will.” — Darlene

“She loves him, right?  Does he know that she loves him?  Oh, jeez.  Nobody loved him until right now.  At the end.  There’s a book?  You sure you don’t want to do nothing tonight, Louis?  Nothing?  Nothing?  Not even a handjob?  Uh, listen, Louis… I’ve been up here so long watching a movie that…  I’m kind of worried that my man might get upset with me if I only come back to him with the usual price.  So, um… do you think you could advance me now so he’ll be cool with me and I’ll come past for free next week?  Oh, no, honey, I’m good.  I gotta race.” — Darlene

“Really?  Not regular.  Larry asked me to make a movie with a man.  But it was just for that man.  So he could look at it later.  He paid me extra.  How you know that?  No, no, that can’t be.  Well, I’m gonna see about that right now.” — Darlene

“Hey, Moon.  A movie of myself.  I heard you’re running it in the machine over there.  And I’m guessing you got copies people can buy, too.  Do that.  ‘Back Door Betty?’  How much you sell these for?  Where do they come from?  Who puts them out?  What are you, an owl?  Whose movie is it?  You don’t know?  Where do you get them from?  Buy one back from me.  10 bucks.  It’s the least you can do.  Girl, Ashley didn’t need Bernie Wolf.” — Darlene

“What?  Sorry.  Damn.  Larry, baby.  that movie you had me make with that john?  I went to Mooney’s.  Just saying, I don’t think nobody paid us except for that john.  Okay.  ‘Cause I don’t think–” — Darlene


Reggie Love, The Deuce, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TV, Tariq TrotterReggie Love

“Nah, man, that’s some bullshit.  Man, every move that man make, he already got it mapped out.  No, he ain’t being crazy.  He ain’t being crazy at all.  Nixon?  You can see right where the man coming from.  Shit makes perfect sense to me.  He president.  So he got to front some being the man, right?  So, like, on the one hand, he got his people over there in Paris talking peace.  That shit’s the carrot.  Now, the stick?  He got to make those slopes think he crazy enough to do all kind of shit– bomb the shit out of Vietnam, take over Cambodia, whatever the fuck.  The man want out of the war just like everybody else, but he can’t play it like that.  See, he got to make those motherfuckers think he do any God damn thing they can imagine, shit.  If I was him, I’d be flashing nuclear weapons and shit.  I’m not saying I would use that shit.  I’m saying I’d be like, ‘do not fuck with president Reggie Love because the nigga’s crazy and he will drop that motherfucker on you.’  I mean, it’s like this here.  I mean, C.C., you ever really want to have to cut a bitch?  Sometimes you want a bitch to think you might, but, pshh, shit.  Of course, I was in the shit for a year.  You know that, right?  Americal division.  They had me up in them central highlands.  Yeah, Nixon know what he doing in Vietnam, bro.  He know the game.  What do you suppose her problem is?  You could turn her ass out.  I ain’t met one yet couldn’t be broke.  You just lazy.  Shit don’t work for me.  Oh, I’d handle the shit out of that motherfucker, ride that bitch like Man o’ War.  But, um, the clientele?  I’m talking about them white boys.  She’s too intimidating for them.  Bitch got too much ass.  I think I’m gonna get me a Chinese ho.  I want my herd to be international.  I know a few Vietnam words.  That shit’s like a cousin to Chinese.  Solid.” — Reggie Love

“Here you go, baby.  Take a hit of this freeze and wake your ass up.  Don’t fall in love with it.  Okay, come on.  Give it here.” — Reggie Love


C.C., The Deuce, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TV, Gary Carr C.C.


“You think?  How you figure?  Right.  So you think he fronting.  For real?  Right on.  So, Nixon pimping?  Well, shit, yeah.  That makes good sense to me.  I ain’t even know, and I ain’t interested.  No, I’m looking for product, not a challenge.  No, bro, practical.  Damn.  You couldn’t handle that?  Shit, I ain’t even know there was such a thing.  You speak Chinese?  What you fucking around for, man?  Just get a couple of white bitches and a fine black bitch, and work ’em.  Ain’t no one man can handle but two or three bitches anyway.  And if you got ’em, you better speak their language.  Reggie, I’m gonna catch you later.” — C.C.

“Excuse me, baby.  This your first time in New York?  A little, yeah, but that’s cool.  Everyone came here from somewhere else.  Where you from?  Ah, you can’t be making those kinds of decisions until you get some food in your stomach.  Let me buy you breakfast.  I know a spot serves it all day.  It’s just breakfast, that’s all.  Keep me company.  C.C. don’t like to eat alone.  That’s right.  And you are?  Lori.  Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lori.  Let’s get going.  I want you to check out my short.  God damn right it’s a Cadillac.  Customized El-D, to be exact.  Yo, what it look like, little man?  Damn.  Well, gonna ride in one now.  Watch your head, baby.  Pretty, right?” — C.C.

“Oh, I’m in sales.  Look here, baby, I’m not being critical or nothing like that.  You a lovely young lady, but that outfit you’re wearing, it says ‘small-town girl,’ see what I’m saying?  Tell you what, I’m gonna let you pick out some new things from that rack so you can look, you know, more New York.  You’d like that, wouldn’t you?  Hmm.  Wow.  Ain’t no need for the rest of the sales pitch, is there?  Yeah.” — C.C.

“That’s a half-smoke, girl.  Guess they don’t have those up in the lakes, huh?  Onliest thing they got in Minnesota is hockey players and heifers. What it look like, Richie?  Everything is everything, man.  Yeah, Richie just go with the flow, you know.  Ain’t the aggressive type.  That’s why he only has one girl.  Not everybody gets to be successful, see what I’m saying?  But you gonna be.  You know… when I saw you come off that bus, I knew we was meant to be together.  You ain’t gotta worry about nothing.  Excuse me, baby.” — C.C.

“No, baby, this ain’t no thing.  She’s just someone that I met that I need to settle, that’s all.  She’s not gonna take your place.  You can believe that.  Look here, girl, you’re my bottom, you know this.  Yeah?  You know what?  when you come home from work tonight, I’m gonna give you a bath and then I’m gonna fuck you so good, you gonna remember why we together.  On the for-real side.  How that sound?  Just you and me, baby.” — C.C.

“Friday.  Mm-hmm.  Wow.  Officer.  You, too, Lon.  Everything is everything, man.  It’s a nice day.” — C.C.

“What’s happening, baby?  Have a good night?  All right?  What you got for me?  What you got?  What is this?  Oh, shit  It’s a Franklin.  Yeah, I guess so.  Thank you, baby.  Ashley, honey… you wanna get a look at this?  It’s a hundred-dollar bill.  I don’t think you’ve seen this kind in a while.  Look here, baby.  Gonna make you nostalgic.  Yeah, I know, I know.  I’m just fucking with you.  Come on, one more each, ladies.  Up and at ’em, up and at ’em.  Let’s go.  Before the sun catches us all.  Who you waiting on, Larry?” — C.C.

“No one likes to get wet, but we all gotta work, baby.  I know, baby, know.  Look here, uh… why don’t we go somewhere where we can talk about this, just the two of us, hmm?  Yeah?  Yeah, let’s go.” — C.C.

“Ashley, honey, what are you crying for?  Hey, shh.  Shit, now, everything all right.  We’re just talking.  We’re talking, that’s all. That’s all.  Shh.  How that feel?  Yeah?  Next time I’ll open your face.  You’ll never make another penny.  Could send you back to West Virginia and let your daddy ass-fuck you all over again.  I ain’t say you could speak!  When I say to get out there and retail, you do it.  You don’t like working in the rain?  I don’t give a fuck if you wet or cold or on fire.  You get me my goddamn money.  Vincent.” — C.C.

“Yeah?  Minnesota ain’t seen none of that?  Baby, put that shit away.  Jane Fonda ain’t got nothing on you.  I heard in that movie she ain’t got no pimp.  You know that’s bullshit, right?  It’s fine for pretend, but that won’t work on the streets.  Can I confide something in you?  I ain’t never verbalized this shit before to man nor beast, so… there ain’t no individual on earth as alone as a pimp.  You try to make a family with your bitches, right?  But after while, most of them, they just want you to fail.  It’s like a part of their nature.  So you wind up having to play all kinds of mind games to keep them all in line, but nobody’s fooling nobody.  They want your ass to fail.  The other pimps, it’s ‘brother this, brother that,’ but at the end of the day, all they want to do is shanghai your stable.  The pugs, they want your money and your scalp, and, God’s truth, Lori, I’m– I’m just sick and tired of the whole damn thing, you know?  The whole dog-eat-dog mentality, it… you know, I’ve shown, improved myself out there year in and year out, and right now, all  need is one good woman, and I’m gone.  Yeah.  I’m taking off.  Making a proper home, have some babies, kick back, see the world, that kind of shit.  You know what I’m saying?  You like that?  See, the thing is… I can’t do none of that until I make a proper pile.  Until then, I’m gonna be out there like a warrior for my scratch.  My chosen one will be an Amazon out there for my scratch.  See what I’m saying?” — C.C.

“Now tonight, the room, the hotel clerk, it’s all paid for.  You just concentrate on the thing at hand.  First thing after the money, you check his johnson.  That thing looks poxy, out he goes.  I’m saying you’re no good to me diseased, that’s all.  Oh, one thing.  Uh, don’t let him put himself inside you.  They’ll just keep slamming you with the side of their hands.  You do the putting in, all right?  Save some wear and tear on that thing.  You know, it’s like my mother used to say– without your health, nothing else matters.  You know, let me tell you something about your boy Darren or Clem or Eefus or who the fuck.  He’s a pimp like a crippled little-leaguer is a Hall of fucking Famer, all right?   I’m a pimp.  Your first and last real man pimp, okay?  I’m a fucking pimp!  Yeah?  Lori, check this out.  Come here.  Yeah.  Now, you got a big day tonight, so why don’t you get yourself cleaned up and get some beauty sleep, all right?  All right.  You, uh– you ever been to France?  No?  Yeah, me neither.” — C.C.


Lori, The Deuce, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TV, Emily MeadeLori

“Does it show?  Minnesota.  I need to find a place to stay.  C.C.  Lori.  Is that a Cadillac?  I never rode in a Cadillac before.  Why do you have all this stuff?  Shit, C.C.!  I’m from Minnesota, and I wouldn’t be caught dead in most of that shit.  Is this really New York fucking City, or did I fall off the greyhound in Cleveland?  Breakfast.” — Lori

“Mm-hmm.  Real good.  You can burn.  What was that sausage thing?  First time for me.  He’s different.” — Lori

“You got a light?  You’re, uh… C.C. said I should come rap to you all some.  Get myself up to speed.  Lori.  You?  I make a mistake in that?  Not this block.  I met some of the players at Leon’s.  This guy named Reggie Love and some dude in a brown suit.  Don’t we all.  Some, uh, hippie-looking cat.  Uh, Richie?  Who are you with?  What about you?  Who’s your man?  No man?  How’s that work?  Me, I need pimping.  Otherwise I tend to get lazy.” — Lori

“Mm-hmm.  Three-piece suit easy money.  Yeah, I’m tired, too.” — Lori

“You did some drastic shit there, I gotta say.  That thing you do, I don’t think it’s made it west of Pittsburgh yet.  Do you like this look?  I could wear my hair in a shag like that.  You know, I bet I could do what she does, too.  I mean, I act every night, don’t I?  I’m good at it.  You know you can.  I like that.  Yeah.” — Lori

“Do you really think you need to tell me about dick drip?  I’ve been doing this since I was 16.  That’s what Darren used to say to me.  Okay.  I hear you, daddy.” — Lori

“Can I get a match, girl?  Is that a no?” — Lori

“They look like they’re really fucking.  Shit.  I could ct in a real movie with a story and everything.” — Lori


Larry Brown, The Deuce, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TV, Gbenga AkinnagbeLarry Brown


“We’re playing the odds, girl.  This is important.  We about to have a new attitude around here, all right?  Got that, Loretta?  Steady on it.  We straight, right?  All right.  Now, Darlene, ain’t no laying back tonight, you hear me?  Larry Brown gonna buy you girls a nice dinner in return, all right?  Hear me, Loretta?  All right.” — Lori

“Now I’ma smell like p****, too.  Oh, here we go.  Well, here we go.  Hey, Chris, you wanna pick a number?  Five?  All right.  Let’s see if the fat one can get out by himself.  Nope, he gonna need help.  There he go.  Watch the car go up when he get out.  There he go.  Ha!  Yeah, we right as rain, man.  Yo, officer Alston, why don’t you come up here?  Yeah, have those city-issued kicks cleaned up.  Mm-mm, nope.  No, you couldn’t pay me enough to wear those okey-doke-ass kicks or be a cop.  Pshh, the army took Reggie Love.  Same.  Police just like the army.  There’s this dude back in my hometown, used to ride the special bus.  Soon as he turned 18, those military motherfuckers gave him a uniform and an M16.  They do take retards and shit.  You think you funny.  Don’t laugh, don’t laugh.  He ain’t funny, Sam.  He ain’t funny.  What you think?  Bullshit!  These here are imports.  See that?  Imported, all right?  Handmade in Italia.  You didn’t even know I– I speak Italian.  You didn’t know that.  They brought these from overseas.  Look at that.  Hey, let go of me, man.” — Lori

“You call this excited?  Shit, I’m gonna show him excited.  Extra 20?  Before you do him next time, you let him know he fucks you up like this again, he gonna have me raise up on him, you heard me?  Regular or no.  All right, baby.  Make that money.” — Lori

“Damn, boy!  What happened?  This is my joint for a late-night cocktail.  Now, shit.  Now you overrun with suits.  Say what?  That’s all?  You ain’t selling p****, just dancer clothes?  Don’t even think about it, bitch.  I’m a sporting man.  Ain’t no sport in this.  None at all.” — Lori

“You’re treating them like cattle.  Tell Loretta I’m gonna be down there.” — Lori

“You know what I’m talking about.  I’ve never seen such a tight series.  Hey, my man Richie, one question– you gonna throttle your bitch or you want me to do it for you?  Hey, mommy, how you doing?  Yeah, you good?  I can look at you, tell you good.  You know, it’s dangerous out here for a girl by yourself.  It’s like walking a dog through a minefield.  You look like you need an escort.  Yeah.  Rodney, Rodney.  Look, Rodney cool.  He cool.  No, but he ain’t got no sensitivity to him.  No intimacy.  He ain’t curious about the human condition.  I’m curious about that shit all the day.  Excuse me, miss motherfucking bitch.  Can’t you see I’m talking here?  Answer me.  Like I was saying, Rodney ain’t got no sensitivity to him.  Look, I don’t do the hard sell, all right?  When the time comes, and it will come… ..you know where to find me.  I hear you, stretch.  We good.  Apron-wearing motherfucker.  Yeah.  Fat Mooney?  He’s selling it?  All right.  I’m gonna look into it, make sure we ain’t get took advantage of.  I’m on it.  I said I’m on it.” — Lori


Abby, The Deuce, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TV, Margarita LevievaAbby

“Syllogisms.  Etymological fallacies.” — Abby

“That expression on your face when you came.  That look.  If people stopped for a minute and realized what they looked like during sex, they’d lose it.  I mean, if it wasn’t fun, it’d be ridiculous.  Fucking?  20, and that argument is begging the question.  Petitio principii.  Argumentum ad hominem.  Argumentum ad misericordiam.  An appeal to pity if I ever heard one.  Got the fallacies and the rhetoric down, don’t I?  Exam’s gonna be cake.” — Abby

“Studying or getting your heads up?  Have you guys even read this yet?  Seriously, you guys are done after the second slice.  Who can cop some speed?” — Abby

“No, 44th.  Bob said our main would be there.  Okay, come on.  Fuck you, Cecelia.  I know who he is.  He’s a nice guy, all right?  Let’s just get it done.  Guess I’m elected.  Thanks.  No, I’m fucked, same as you.  Hey, uh, can I just explain?  I=I’m a student, NYU.  I have a test in the morning.  I just needed something to stay awake so I could study.  That’s all.  If I can just call my father… it’s Abby, and I wasn’t suggesting you wouldn’t do your duty, officer…. fla-nah-ga.  They left the ‘n’ off the end there.  Aren’t you gonna cuff me?”
“NYU.  Can I make a phone call?  I don’t understand.  Thanks for the water.” — Abby

“I  needed to stay up for an exam tomorrow.  My exam is for econ, but I’m an English major.  I’m studying literature.  Mostly modern stuff.  Um, this semester I’m taking a class called Existentialism and the Absurd.  We read ‘The Stranger.’  You know Camus?  This your place, Vincent?  You asked them to dress like that?  Ever wonder what it’s like for them to be objectified?  It means treating a person as a thing.  Ever wonder what they think about that?  I know I could.  But would I?  You’re smarter than you let on.  Um, I think I’ll stay here, have one more.  Thanks for giving me a break.  Thanks, but I’m okay.  The speed wasn’t for me.  It was for my friends.  I know that econ shit inside out.  I think I’ll sit here with you for a little while.  If you don’t mind.” — Abby

“I’m staying.  I’m not going back home.  I’m not asking for his help.  I don’t know.  How does anyone live?  I’ll get a job.  I’m sorry, mom.” — Abby



Rodney, The Deuce, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TV, Method Man, Cliff SmithRodney


“I know you workin’.  Hey.  Don’t you want to be a part of something bigger, huh?  Between my expertise… and your good looks, shoot, thoroughbred like you, we would own this damn street.  Fine ain’t good enough for a woman like you.  Hey, I’ll make you a star.  Ali MacGraw gonna want your autograph.  As well you should.  Talk to thunderthighs.  She’ll tell you.  I ain’t been nothing but good to her.  I told you, scary world out here, baby.  Volatile.  A girl could get her arm broke or she could get cut.  This one girl I knew… thought she could handle it herself.  Got served a Drano cocktail.  No, never.  Just the opposite.  I’m threatening anyone that would ever threaten you, baby.  Say ‘money’ for me again.  Money, money, money… yes, ma’am.  Talk some other time.  Damn sure is.” — Rodney

“Everything I own smell like p****, baby.  Hey, sweetheart, come fuck with a pimp.  I’ll get your hair did, baby.  ‘Cannon,’ a Q.M. production.  We right as rain.  They didn’t take you.” — Rodney

“You ain’t got to show them shit.  Ain’t you read the constitution?  Fucked up.  Have a good night, officer.” — Rodney


Eileen Merrell, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TV, Maggie GyllenhaalCandy

Eileen Merrell


“Rodney, come on.  I’m doing fine.  Rodney, you’re not listening.  I take care of my own self.  Hey, you’re looking hungry.  You looking for a date?  30 and 10.  What?  Where you going?  Where you going, baby?  Shit, shit.  Rodney.  You fucking threatening me?  Rodney, sugar, nobody makes money off of my p**** but me.  I’m gonna keep what I earn.  I don’t need you.  I don’t need anybody else to hold my fucking money for me.  Now let me do my thing.  You’re busting on my groove, Rodney.  Money, money, money… hey, baby.  What do you think?  You looking for a date?  Yeah?  30 and 10?” — Eileen Merrell

“That’s you.  Hey, gentlemen.  It’s going to be 40.  What’s your name, honey?  We’re gonna party, Stuart.  Come on, baby.  Come on.  I don’t bite.  This will be nice.  No, none of that.  You can touch my tits.  Only if you want to.  Take a breath.  Mm.  That’s nice.  Touch my nipples.  Mm-hmm, feels good.  That’s nice, mmm.  Let’s see what we got here.  Oh, yeah, you’re ready.  Now, you gotta wear this.  No, no, Candy’s gonna fit it on you just to be sure.  Wow, you really were ready.  One ticket, one ride.  You want to go again?  It’s only 30 for the second go.  The room’s already paid.  Yeah?  Well, happy birthday to you.  Fair?  What do you do, Stuart?  What’s your daddy do?  And that’s his job, right?  Someone comes in, knows just the car he wants, doesn’t dick around, doesn’t need a long test drive, doesn’t argue about the color or whatever.  Does he give him the car for less?  Does he pay less than the guy who comes in, takes forever, gotta drive five or six cars, talk abut radio, the whitewalls, everything else, before he’s done and ready to buy?  No.  He doesn’t give the easy customer two cars for the price of one, right?  This is my job, Stuart.  A personal check?  No.  Ordinarily.  But for you, Stu… you know, I think I would.  Thank you.  Oh, local bank, right?” — Eileen Merrell

“Hey, baby, how you doing?  You like what you see?  Uh-huh?  You looking for a date tonight?  I’ll show you a little bit of fun, huh?  Hey.  You looking for a date, baby?  Hey, you playing my song, baby?  Hey, hey.  If you’re passing those out, we do.  This is what I need.  Here you go, baby.  What’s your name, girl?  Candy.  You got ‘new in town’ stamped on your forehead.  Fucking C.C. snapped you up quick.  It’s not like you haven’t been around the block before, right?  Larry Brown.  Stay away from Larry.  He raises up quick.  No man, just me.  You gotta work a little harder.  You gotta be a little more careful.  Sometimes a guy will burn you for some cash or a player will press you for a moment or two, but it works for me.” — Eileen Merrell

“Oh, it’s for the month.  Where is he?  All right, well don’t wake him up.  Hi, hey.  Oh, kiddo.  Oh!  Mm.  Let me see you.  You don’t look so sick to me.  How you feeling?  You think maybe you should’ve gone to school today?” — Eileen Merrell

“Hey.  Off duty, scout’s honor. Um… seltzer water with lime.  Mm-hmm.  Um, means don’t be flashing tits and ass, making trade in here.  It’s a compliment.” — Eileen Merrell

“30 and 10.  I’m not bargaining.  What’s sunlighting?  For the machines.  But you only get paid once.  No, every time some guy puts a coin in one of those machines, someone’s making money off what you did and you’re not making another dime.  She’s pissed.” — Eileen Merrell

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, no!  Ma, this piece is missing from this game.  I told you, it doesn’t work without all the parts.  No, I didn’t say that.  We still have that old game of yours.  That’s not a game for boys.  Hey, let’s play cars, okay?  You got a deck in your room?  Oh!  I’m doing the best I can.  You know, next time you go to the department store, buy him a game or something.  They got one called ‘operation.’ You get to pretend you’re a doctor.  It buzzes.  Kids really like it.  I appreciate everything.” — Eileen Merrell

“Thank you, baby.  Mmm.  I’m good, Larry.  I do?  Rodney’s been giving me this talk for a month now.  That I do.  75?  I can make that on the corner.  The hell you need to go all the way to the Bronx for?  75… yes.  I’ll make a fucking movie.” — Eileen Merrell

“Um, you know… the fact is, I think I might be doing something else really soon.  The movie business.  Making movies.  Just commercials to start.  I’m not sure.  Maybe the camera.  Or the lighting, I don’t know.  Whatever they teach you to start.  Gotta get interested in something, right?” — Eileen Merrell


Chris Alston, The Deuce, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TV, Lawrence Gilliard Jr.Patrol Officer Chris Alston


“Be cool, Lonnie.  We’re good.  Right, fellas?  Sam.  You think you could pass the psych exam, brother?  That’s the army, man.  Mm, those gators?  ‘Cause I saw the same pair in the window at Thom McAn’s.  Yeah, that’s what ‘import’ means, right, Sam?  It’s out of sight.” — Chris Alston

“Student?  Hmm.  NYU.  Trying to cop speed in Hell’s Kitchen.  You’re obviously not stupid.  But do you know how stupid that is?  I think you’ll be all right.  Duck salad.  No, thank you.” — Chris Alston

“Huh.  Officer Flanagan doesn’t want to bother with processing and fingerprinting.  He’s got other fish to fry.  Let me guess, you’re gonna stop and have a cocktail on the way, an aperitif, perhaps?  Yeah, give Abby here some counseling over a drink or two.  Mind yourself out there, hear?” — Chris Alston

“We should head out.  All right, who’s good?  Fine, you two just play nice.  We’ll pick you up on the rebound.  Ladies, ladies, ladies.  Everyone against the van.  Against the van now.  Keep moving, Bunny.  Listen up, I want to see property vouchers for central booking.  Anyone not collared in the last 48 hours, you know the drill.  Show and prove, ladies.  All right, let me see.  You’re good.  You’re good.  Sorry, in you go.  In you go.  And you should talk.  Let me see.  In you go.  All right, we’ll catch you later.  In you go.  Play nice, ladies.” — Chris Alston

“Look at you sloppy, gold-shield grubbing motherfuckers.  Make some room ladies.  We’re now the drunk wagon.” — Chris Alston

“Hold the door.  Number nine already comes with lobster sauce.  Are you saying you want extra?  $3.75.  Eggrolls.  And you?  Barb, look at the menu.  I’ll come back.” — Chris Alston

“All right, be that way.  Larry do that to you?  How about you just go home?  Shit.  Still, this your only move?” — Chris Alston


Loretta, The Deuce, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TV, Sepideh MoafiLoretta

“Yes, Larry.  Gonna be a big night.  We got you, daddy.” — Loretta

“How much she making?” — Loretta

“Uncle, already.  You want to save me from myself?  ‘Cause you can.  To the Bronx?  Oh, shit.  You know what?  I completely forgot to get an education.  You believe that?” — Loretta

“Listen, I need a solid.  It’s just that, um… I’m supposed to shoot a blue tomorrow up in the Bronx, but I have to be in court.  It’s $75.  for me.  I’m trying to get my ass off the street.  And if I totally hang this hang guy up, I’m ‘person non gratis.’  Come on.  When you were little, didn’t you always want to be in the movies?  For fuck’s sake, say yes.  Thank you, baby.” — Loretta


Andrea Martino, The Deuce, HBO, HBO Entertainment, Home Box Office, 20th Century FOX TV, Zoe KazanAndrea Martino

“It’s like a cherry.  That red one.  Mm-hmm.  You just missed it.  Just couldn’t close the deal.  I haven’t finished my drink.  I’m not naked or nothing.  All right.  I can’t bend.” — Andrea Martino

“It’s not like you can blame me.  Seven nights a week.  Seven nights a week– I’m supposed to be home with the kids every night, and where are you?  You could’ve done that thing with my father.  He’d have got you made, maybe.  Or at least you’d been in a crew, Vinnie, instead.  And you’re a barman.  You’re from Brooklyn.  You’re not Frank Sinatra.  You’re not even Tony Martin.  I’m still young, Vin.  And you don’t never come home to me.  And it ain’t like you ain’t out there fucking around on me when you can.  I know, okay?  I know.  I know about Marie DiParma.  I know about all of ’em.  You ain’t fooling nobody.  Vin, you got a home.  You got a family.  A color TV, and you’re living in some shitty Times Square hotel with whores and drunks?  Look, I’m sorry, okay?  I’m sorry for some of the shit I done.  I am.  You know we could be good if we tried.  Tell them what?” — Andrea Martino


https://twitter.com/iTunes/status/907000759690002432

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *