[Mayor and Chief play tennis while talking about Glen's death]Mayor: Got to take stone grapes to walk in a bar broad daylight... [grunts] ...shoot my city's most beloved bartender.Chief: Yeah. He was practically one of our own, damn it. I'm tellin' you, man, my men are pissed! I won't be able to keep them on a leash much longer.Mayor: This reek of the O'briens to you?Chief: No question about it.Mayor: Well, that filthy, potato-peelin' family of narrowbacks is gonna cost me the next election!Chief: Those sons of bitches still smell of the pee.Mayor: Nice. Damn, that's a small ball, huh? That thing don't bounce! Yeah, I don't want to play this one no more.
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