Anthony Infante: Listen, as far as that thing goes...the coffee with the chicory...

Johnny Sack: The fuck is that?

Anthony Infante: Oh shit. I suck at talkin' like this John, I'm sorry. Our friend with the stomach.

Johnny Sack: In town or near home?

Anthony Infante: Your neighbor. A.S.

Johnny Sack: Yeah, all right. Just say the thing I asked you to do. The coffee with the fuckin' chicory. Is he gonna get it for me?

Anthony Infante: Yes. Bad news is that he wants ten cups for himself. Not seven.

Johnny Sack: Alright. Done. Did you pick up the birthday cake for Gin with the marzipan flowers?

Anthony Infante: The stuff behind the pool?

Johnny Sack: No, an actual fuckin' cake. It's her birthday.