The King of Staten Island2020

[Raymond knocks on Margie's front door and she answers]

Raymond:
Hello, my name is Raymond Bishop. This is my son, Harold. Say hello, Harold.

Harold:
I’m sorry.

Margie:
What’s going on?!

Raymond:
It seems your son was down in the woods giving out free tattoos and my son was one of his victims!

Margie:
I don’t understand! How do you know it was my son?! How did you get this address?!

Raymond:
I have my ways. Believe me, I have my ways.

Margie:
You a cop?!

Raymond:
No I’m a fireman. I work for a living. [Grabs Harold's right arm and holds it up] Look at this! You believe this?! See that there?! See that line?! I don’t know if you burn these off or what but we’re taking care of this and you’re paying for it, you understand me?!

Margie:
Scott! [To Raymond] I’m so sorry. There’s an aesthetic laser at the hospital where I work and it can completely remove it! I get a discount! I’m gonna pay for the whole thing! I don’t know what I’m saying! I feel terrible!

Raymond:
You should feel terrible! Look at that!

Scott:
What’s up? Oh f***!

Raymond:
There he is! Get your ass over here!

Scott:
Hey, he said he was eighteen!

Raymond:
He looks like he’s four you f***ing moron!

Scott:
He consented!

Harold:
He’s lying!

Scott:
Harold, come on!

Raymond:
Of course he’s lying! You can’t have consent! He’s nine years old!

Harold:
Dad, let’s go! You’re embarrassing me!

Raymond:
We’re not going anywhere! He’s just a little kid! What the f*** is wrong with you?!

Scott:
He was roaming around in the woods, he wanted a tattoo! Where were you?!

Raymond:
I was at f***ing work!

Scott:
F*** you!

Raymond:
If I was you I would shut your f***ing mouth because I can call the cops right now and have your ass thrown in jail!

Scott:
For what?!

Raymond:
For sticking needles in a kid’s arm, you f***ing dope! Did you even raise him? Did you even raise him?!

Margie:
There’s no reason to call the cops! I can handle this and I can also handle disciplining him!

Raymond:
Well clearly you can’t or you wouldn’t have a middle-aged son still living at home, tattooing minors against their will.

Harold:
I asked him to do it.

Scott:
That’s right. That’s my man.

Raymond:
Go wait in the car, Harold. And don’t raise your voice at me either.

Scott:
Later Harold.

Raymond:
Don’t say goodbye to my kid.

[Harold crosses the street to the car]

Raymond:
Look both ways! Look both ways!

Harold:
I am!

Raymond:
Watch your mouth!

Margie:
[To Scott] Go to your room!

Scott:
For your information I am not middle-aged. I am a twenty-four year old man and I am going to my room because I f***ing want to! [Scott leaves]

Raymond:
What kind of animal are you raising in this house? I’m bringing you the bill, I don’t care what it costs. I mean what the f*** is going on around here?

Margie:
Just give me a day to arrange the laser!

Raymond:
You know something?! Is his father home?! Where’s his dad?! I don’t want to f***ing yell at you!

Margie:
He’s deceased.

Raymond:
Well I’m sorry for your loss. I’m sure if he was still around he would agree with the fact that you should still pay for it.