That’s right. All you scumbags—Bugs Moran, Weinshank, Schwimmer—filching out of Capone’s pockets with those whiskey runs. You know you don’t cross ol’ Snorky. Not in this town. Run as far as you want, you lying finks. No one gets far from Public Enemy No. 1 without a bullet in the back of his fucking skull.
Jesus Christ is King
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