CARTER: I thought you’d given all this up, Vinnie. You told me you’d stopped doing this.

VINNIE: What.

CARTER: All this business with women. Pretending.

VINNIE: It’s not a business!

CARTER: How many times have you gotten yourself into a jam like this over a woman?

VINNIE: Never. Not like this.

CARTER: Oh, this one’s different. I see.

VINNIE: Are you listening to me or scolding me!

CARTER: I’m telling you! This is exactly what I’ve been warning you about all these years. One little slip-up like this and the whole thing can come unraveled.

VINNIE: There’s no way they can connect you to me.

CARTER: When you apply for a State Racing License what is the main prerequisite? Fingerprints! Right? Fingerprints, Vinnie! You’ve got no concept of how things are hooked up these days. How international files are kept. Information stored. Microchips. Fibre optics. Floppy discs. It’s an art form now, Vinnie! An industry!

VINNIE (sudden explosion again): I AM TALKING ABOUT A WOMAN!!

Pause.

CARTER: All right. Calm down. Jesus. We’re just trying to have a conversation.

VINNIE: I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT MICROCHIPS AND INDUSTRIES!! I AM TALKING ABOUT A WOMAN!!

CARTER: If you’re going to scream, I’m going to leave.

VINNIE (calmer): You’re not listening to me, I don’t think.

CARTER: I am.

VINNIE: I don’t think so.

CARTER: I am. It’s just—

VINNIE: So, tell me what I’m saying then. Tell me back.

Pause.

CARTER: You wanna take a walk? Go out and have a drink somewhere? Get some air?

VINNIE: Tell me what I’m saying. I’d like to hear it. Back.

CARTER: Let’s have a drink.

VINNIE: You don’t drink. Remember?

CARTER (pause): I’ve taken it up again.

VINNIE: Oh? Things not so hot back home?

CARTER: What?

VINNIE: I said: (As though speaking to the deaf.) “THINGS—NOT—SO—HOT—BACK—AT—HOME?”

CARTER: Everything’s fine. I just have an occasional highball to take the edge off. Just to relax. That’s all.

VINNIE: Ah, the Occasional Highball!

CARTER: Whatever, Whiskey sour. Now and then.

VINNIE: No harm in that.

CARTER: None whatsoever.

VINNIE: Kids back in school are they?

CARTER: They start this week.

VINNIE: It’s that time of year. PUMPKIN TIME!

CARTER: Yeah.

VINNIE: Rosie’s happy?

CARTER: I’d just as soon not talk about Rosie, if you don’t mind.

VINNIE: She still got those amazing tits that kinda sit up like little puppy dogs and bark at you?

CARTER charges VINNIE, grabs him by the throat and throws him backwards onto the bed, then smashes him with the pillow. VINNIE smiles and lays there passively while CARTER stands over him. Long pause. CARTER backs off.