Better Call Saul, Season 1

Jimmy:
Let me tell you about a young guy. Actually, he's about your age. He lived a long way from here, in a town called Cicero, Illinois. And in Cicero, he was the man. I mean, when he strolled down the street, all the corner boys would give him the high five, all the finest babes would smile at him and hope that he would smile back. They called him Slippin' Jimmy, and everybody wanted to be his friend.

Lars:
"Slippin' Jimmy?" What the hell kind of name is that?

Jimmy:
Well, I'll tell you now. Winters in Cicero are murder. You guys grown up out here in the golden west – you don't know, okay? I'm talking cold that'll freeze the snot right in your nose. I'm talking wind that'll cut through your jacket and carve you up like a Ginsu knife. In fact, most folks in Cicero were scared of winter. But not Jimmy. Jimmy waited around all summer. And when September finally rolled around, he'd feel that first cold wind come sweeping off Lake Michigan. He knew it was coming. Was it Christmas? Was it Kwanzaa? Better. It was slip-and-fall season. Soon as it was cold enough, he'd find a nice smooth patch of ice. State Street was good, Michigan Avenue was better. He'd pick a spot, wait for it to get busy, and he'd walk out on the ice and boom! He would diff it so hard, people would come running from five blocks away.

Cal:
Yeah, but did he collect?

Jimmy:
Did he collect? Slippin' Jimmy had it dialed in. One good fall, he'd clear six, eight grand. That'd keep him in Old Milwaukee and Maui Wowie right through Labor Day.