All language subtitles for The.Sopranos.S06E09.The.Ride_e

How much blood will you shed
to stay alive, Michael?

Live or die,
make your choice.

Who the fuck
are you?

What the fuck you doing in there?

We're gonna
miss the previews.

What?

Tell me your earring went
in the fucking drain again.

I'm pregnant.

I know it's my fault. I know I shouldn't
have let you take off the rubber.

I thought we were okay. I was due for my
period. My cycle's like clockwork.

Stop.

- I'll call the clinic tomorrow.
- Stop talking.

Let's get married.

What?

We'll drive to A.C.,
make a day out of it.

Are you serious?

Christopher.
I love you.

- My baby.
- Yeah.

My ex, she couldn't have kids,
and I wanted 'em so bad.

The one who ran out on you?

You can bet she's having some other
asshole's kid, though.

That fucking tramp.

Elzear, patron saint
of zeppoles.

Could use a shot
of lacquer.

- Fix that halo, too.
- Shh!

Hello.

Mr. Gaultieri,
I'm Father Jose.

I'm Mr. Gaultieri.
Where's Father Felix?

Unfortunately he's ill.

He's having bypass surgery.
He asked me to fill in.

You know Mr. Russamano
from the Neighborhood Association.

Sure, Paulie, Chuck,
how you feeling?

He was an altar boy.

Ahh.

So the Feast
of St. Elzear.

Father Felix brought me
up to speed.

I'd like to hear your
ideas for this year.

Well, there ain't much
to talk about.

It's all done through
our nonprofit corporation.

We close the streets
for five days,

hire the food vendors,
rides, et cetera.

Day two, we start
the procession,

push the statue up
and down the block.

You say a couple
of prayers and that's that.

All's said and done,
you get your end.

About that, as I was
telling Mr. Russamano,

frankly $10,000
struck me as quite low.

It is what it is.

Look, I'm new here.
I certainly don't wanna rock the boat.

I realize there are
certain neighborhood traditions.

It's just that given the current costs,
we feel an increase

- is long overdue.
- What kind of increase?

We feel $50,000 would be
a more equitable donation.

- 50?
- Just this year,

we started a soup kitchen
for the homeless,

a reading program
for bilingual children.

There's less help than ever
from the federal government.

You think this feast
pays for itself?

Security, electric,
sanitation.

- Not to mention fuel costs.
- Yeah.

The way it seems
to break down is you spend $18

for a city permit
to close down the street,

charge fees
to the vendors

in the thousands
of dollars to lease out land

that you don't
even own.

Yeah? Well, it seems to me the church
has plenty in its coffers

for all those
pedophilia lawsuits.

The parish's deal was negotiated since
this was Johnny Soprano's feast.

These are different times,
Mr. Gaultieri.

Well, some things
don't change.

Couple of days, Joe Vella from the Honor
Guard will be by with the float.

Transfer the statue
from his niche,

pick up the hat
and other stuff.

You say things
don't change.

This feast was started
over 100 years ago

in a spirit of giving.

Italian immigrants,
the working poor

gave what little money
they had to honor St. Elzear.

He's the patron saint
from my grandparent's town...

Ariano di Puglia.

Many of those folks gave their gold
wedding bands, which were melted

- down to make the saint's hat.
- Yeah?

The Holy Society
of St. Elzear,

of which you are
recording secretary,

has for the past
100 years entrusted us

with the care
of that habiliment.

Frankly...

I don't feel safe
giving it over this year.

We use it every year.
It's part of the tradition.

I understand,
but I'm sorry.

Given the tenor of this conversation,
I sense there's a possible

criminal element
in this neighborhood

that could endanger
this precious piece of local history.

But for 50 grand,
you wouldn't have that sense.

It would demonstrate to me that you
take this feast as seriously

as the people
who began it.

Okay, Father,
nice meeting you.

Fuck the hat!

It's fucking bullshit.

I got a fax from Eddie Lind,
Allegheny Carting.

They wanna raise
the tipping fee again on solid waste.

Just the man
I wanted to see.

I gotta go down to Pennsylvania
and I'm gonna need backup.

I'm busy managing
the feast.

Vice president
in charge of calzones.

Where the fuck
you been anyway?

Is that what
I think it is?

You are now looking
at a newly married man.

- Ho-ho-holy shit!
- Kelli?

What the fuck
brought this on?

Visit from the stork
coming up.

You never heard
of pulling out?

Sweetheart, little
Cristal over here.

- You know what you're having?
- Boy, I hope.

I tell ya, T,
with the example you set,

plus the wisdom
I learned from AA,

it's an inspiration...
building blocks,

home, family.

Yeah, that's what
it's all about, kid.

Just water for me.

My son will be my strength.

Yeah.

I did?

What are you,
new in the office?

Talk to Dr. Cipolla.

I don't pay
for missed appointments.

- To the baby.
- To the baby.

- Salut.
- Salut.

Make a note to call
Freddie at DiSorbo's.

He wants to sponsor
the cannoli-eating contest,

I better see an envelope
by tomorrow.

Anyway, my guy
at the weigh station's on board.

- You know how to get back, right?
- I MapBlasted it.

All right, see you guys.

Look, Pittsburgh.

What the fuck?
We're supposed to be headed east.

Are we .7 miles
past Route 62 yet?

I gotta take a piss.

You seeing this?

Looks like bikers.

Wooden crates.

It's good wine.

- What the fuck?
- Who the fuck are you guys?

- That's who I am, you mangy cocksucker.
- Take it easy.

On the ground or I'll blow your greasy
fucking heads off.

- You guys cops?
- How's your incision, Lieutenant?

10-4.

You're fucking with
the Vipers here, asshole.

Ooh, really?

What's that,
your Girl Scout troop?

Shut up,
fucking douchebag.

Let's go.

- Get him!
- Ow!

I hit him!
I fucking hit him!

Fuck you!

Yee-ha!

That was fucking awesome.
Fucking old-school shit.

Opportunity knocked.

Knocked? Kicked
the fucking door in.

Oh, fuck!

You okay, T?

Fucking ankle,
I guess I sprained it.

You smell that?
It's fucking autumn.

It's like the first fall night when
you're a kid, and the air's all crisp,

and you start smelling
people's fireplaces.

Smells like Halloween.

Ha ha!

Oh...

Chateau Pichon-Longueville,
1986.

'86... ooh, baby.

Show me the money.

What's your corkage fee?

How about that prick's
face when he saw the gat?

The Grizzly Adams
motherfucker?

"Whoa, take it easy."

"We're with the Vipers."

How's that wine, good?

It really is,
I gotta say.

I tell ya, though,

when he pulled
that trigger,

I almost shit myself.

Yeah.

I miss it sometimes.
I'll be honest.

The wine.

You should toast
to your wedding, at least.

Your kid.

Discipline, that's all.

Set limits for myself.

On the other side,
they consider wine food.

Oh, yeah?

- Salut.
- Salut.

I'm gonna have to
sleep on my back.

- What are you doing?
- Nightcap.

There's a Swiss Army
in the console.

When you think of the shit
we've been through, huh?

Shit we've done.

Fucking
Three Musketeers.

We got a bond.

It's very special.

You saved my life
in a lot of ways.

You've been there for me,
too, you know?

Don't think
I don't know that.

There were times

it was hard
with me and you.

I didn't understand.

You were young.

Stubborn.

You always had
my back, though.

Like that day
when I came to the house.

I gotta talk to you.

What's wrong?

What's the matter?

You know I've always
been loyal to you, T.

What are you trying
to tell me, Christopher?

I can't even say it.

Oh, fuck.

Adriana.

What about her?

The feds.

Jesus-fucking-Christ.

How long?

- How fucking long?
- A year, I don't know.

When did you find out?

She just told me
last night.

What do they know, huh?

- What did she give 'em?
- I don't know.

Might take a lot.

Ralphie?

I don't know.

Oh, Tony, how could
you even think that?

Where is she?

- Where the fuck is she? Where is she?
- Please, Ton'.

Where is she?

She's home.

I can't.
I can't do it, Ton'.

No, please,
don't make me do it.

I can't do it.
I can't do it.

All right.

I can't.

- All right.
- I can't do it.

I'm gonna
take care of it.

All right.

Come on, come on.

Now listen to me.

You go upstairs.

You go out
the back door.

Don't talk to Carmela.

You go someplace,
have a cup of coffee.

You wait
till I call you.

Huh?

It's okay. We're gonna
take care of it.

Go ahead.

I love you, man.

I love you, too.

- I like it.
- Welcome.

- Joan Gillespie, Pagano Realty.
- Kelli Moltisanti.

We spoke on the phone.
My husband Christopher.

- How do you do?
- This is what I'm talking about.

"Stately Wayne Manor."

Four bedrooms, marble baths
with Kohler fixtures.

Sub-Zero in the
stainless steel kitchen.

We'll take it.

He's what we call
an impulse buyer.

Shouldn't we see
the inside first, sweetie?

If it has an inside,
we're buying it.

Where's the rest?
Five days rent in advance, I said.

What if it rains? Ohio State Fair gives
you a rebate for bad weather.

Yet another reason
I don't live in Ohio.

Easy on the sugar, hon'.
They tell me I'm sweet enough.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

Jesus Christ,
what did he do now?

It's an old polo injury.

- Huh?
- Let me talk to you a minute.

Couple of guys we know,

Lebanese or some shit,

they diverted a truck,

whole semi-trailer full
of Centrum Multivitamins.

That's a fucking score.

Yeah, the thing is
it's gotta be unloaded out of state,

'cause the troopers are on it.
You interested?

Could be distributed
in Long Island.

What's my end?

50-50, but it's
gotta be done now, tonight.

Tonight?

All right,
but in this case,

I'm thinking we spare John the stress
of having to hear about this.

The situation he's in,
he's got enough to deal with.

Get me Frankie Cosme
on the cell.

Yeah, somebody wants
to talk to you. Hold on.

Did you pray?

Said a "thank you"
for Daddy's recovery.

You had arthroscopic surgery,
you can't bend a knee?

Dad said he's gonna
meet us on the corner.

Isn't that Ade's mom?

- Oh my God. She looks terrible.
- Who?

Chris' ex, her mom.

She saw us.
I should say hello.

Liz, hi.

I saw you're on the committee.
That's so great.

Carmela Soprano.

- How's your daughter?
- Fine.

Well, mine is dead.

Oh my God, when?
What happened?

When? That piece
of shit, your nephew.

They broke up, Liz.
She ran off.

She doesn't call me
for almost two years.

My birthday,
Christmas.

You two always did have
a very difficult relationship.

The FBI came
to my home.

You'd be amazed
at the questions they asked me.

- Liz...
- They admitted

they think that he killed her.

Come on, Liz,
you're drunk.

Drunk?
It's called depression.

I haven't had a drink
in years.

There were times,
I was a kid,

my friend Ronnie, we'd play
on the floor of my kitchen...

linoleum, Matchbox cars
or whatever.

He'd go home, his fucking knees
would be filthy.

His elbows...
she never cleaned, my mother.

Fucking house
was a pigsty.

Ronnie's mother made
him stop coming over it was so dirty.

- That's fucked up.
- Embarrassing.

My kid,
it'll be different.

He'll be proud
of his house.

Wait till you see
this place.

So that thing,
Rusty Milio,

I heard that happened.

Good job.

It's a little less cash
than we talked about.

But there's a bonus
in there for you.

It's okay
if I fix?

Just take me
to my car.

Rock out
with your cock out.

Fireplace,
parquet floors,

bumper pool table
in the basement.

- Huh?
- The house I'm getting.

You'll come over.

Christmas,
Christmas Eve, maybe.

I'm gonna start
a tradition.

You know, you really gotta
get yourself some help with this shit.

I will.
I'm gonna.

Those fucking works,
though.

Whets my whistle, that spike.
Why is that?

I don't know.

You want some?

Me? Nah.

Okay, it's just,
you know, if you want.

Guess I could toot some.

I remember...

when I did
a lot of blow,

I used
to get diarrhea

just from the smell
of paper money...

in a store,
any fucking place,

on account of all
the baby laxative in the coke

when you actually
snort it.

I meant what I said,
though,

you need to get
your ass to rehab.

Fucking Narcotics
Anonymous or some shit.

How do you like
this car?

It's nice,
the leather.

See ya.

Here he comes.

God bless you,
St. Elzear.

Where's his gold hat?

Pray for my mother,
St. Elzear.

Hey, they forgot
his hat.

This is my nephew George,
just back from Iraq.

- Two tours he done.
- I'm proud of you, my friend.

What do you need?

I don't know.

There's prosciutto in there,
some leftover sesame noodles.

Tofu would make
your doctor happy.

How's the ankle?

It's better.

Cold packs helped.

Did you have
the riser fixed?

Yeah, yeah, Brian Spatafore
was over the Pork Store.

Had him tighten up
the banister, everything.

You all right?

I have been debating
all night whether

to even say anything
about this.

I ran into Liz La Cerva
at the feast.

- Yeah...
- She's got it in her head

that Christopher
killed Adriana.

What? That's insane.

I know.

Then again, he does have
a history of being free with his hands.

That makes him O.J?

She was probably drunk.

I really don't
think she was.

Let me school you
on domestic violence, okay?

First and foremost,
there's always a body.

And 99 out of 100...

and this comes straight
from my cop buddies...

it happens either
in the bedroom or in the kitchen.

He killed her,

believe me, with the forensics
they got nowadays,

the fibers,
we'd know about it.

The FBI came
to her house... Liz.

That's exactly my point.
If they really thought he did it,

how fast do you think
they'd haul his ass in?

Sour grapes, Carm.

He dumps her daughter, all of a sudden
he's Scott fucking Peterson.

- I thought Ade dumped him.
- You know what I mean.

She was a sweet girl, Ade,

but the two of them together
was a toxic relationship.

Yeah, they did have
a rough time of it.

And he's doing great...
Christopher.

He's a different person.

He's married.
He's got a kid on the way.

He's focused.

Let's not sabotage
his progress.

Hmm?

Have a dozen extra large
brought over to Satriale's.

- Hello.
- Paul, Dr. Cipolla.

I'm on my way out. I received
the results of your PSA test.

- And?
- Not to worry.

But the numbers
are a little higher than I prefer.

- What does that mean?
- Probably nothing.

Likelihood is prostatitis,
simple inflammation.

You have a history
of prostate cancer in your family?

- Father maybe?
- I don't know.

Well, I'd like to go ahead
and schedule you for a biopsy.

This is lame.
I wanna go on the Octopus.

Can you stop for one minute
breaking my balls?

When your father gets
back from the bathroom with Sophia,

- you can go on whatever.
- It's a kiddie ride.

Yeah, but she wants
to go on the ride with her big brother.

Here we go!
You ready, baby?

Go for a ride
with Mama?

This is too small.
I'll be all squished.

Yeah, so you go sit
in that one, and wave to her.

Oh, there's my girl.

There's my girl!

Yeah, are you ready to go
on the ride with Mama?

Are you ready? Get ready.

Yeah,
we're gonna go soon.

Oh, here we go!

All around the floor.

Wipe that puss
off your face.

- My baby!
- Oh my God, call an ambulance!

Excuse me!

It's okay. It's okay.

This is
a temperature gun.

217 degrees.

Look at that.

- Yeah.
- Paulie, it's me.

We had a problem down here.
The ride...

the Teacups
or whatever,

a bolt busted.
Thing jammed up.

- Some people got hurt.
- Where's the guy who owns it?

He's talking
to the cops.

Fine, fuck it.
What do you want from me?

It's pretty bad, Paulie.
Lady broke her wrist.

Some Puerto Rican kid
lost some teeth.

What am I,
a fucking dentist?

I don't know.
I thought you'd want to know.

Maybe come down
or something.

I gotta be up in the morning.
I got my fucking biopsy.

All right,
I'll take care of it.

Now's your last chance
to take advantage...

One second
you're sitting there

enjoying a ride
with your family,

the next your entire
world comes crashing down.

I close my eyes.
I can still hear the screams.

We should all be
thankful it's okay.

My baby could have
been killed, Tony.

God forbid.

You can bet the locals
will be parading in with their lawsuits.

El mucho pesos.

Just leave it alone,
Janice.

They are entitled
to damages.

Obviously,
there was negligence.

Good, so then they'll have excuses
why they can't go to work.

When I think what
could have happened

to my baby...

Oh, yes, you, Nica.

I'm talking
about you, angel.

Oh, God, I wanna
bite those cheeks.

Scumbag hillbilly,
I should have kicked his ass.

Yeah, and what
did you do? Nothing.

I was taking Sophia
to the bathroom.

Mmm, this wine,
Tony, you're right.

Delicious.

I was just thinking
it lost some of its...

I don't know... pop.

Manager.
You gotta move your car.

I said I'm coming.

You redneck fuck. My baby was
on that ride with my wife.

She woke up this morning,
she could barely move her neck.

I told the cops, mister. I'm sorry.
Insurance will pay your hospital bill.

- $25,000 cash.
- What?

New Jersey has stringent
liability laws.

I told the guy who hired me
I'd have to put on

a whole repair crew, work 'em all night.
He wouldn't spring for it.

Who, Paulie?
What are you talking about?

First off, he wouldn't
pay for my "A" fleet.

I leased that to the Sorghum Festival
down in Atlanta.

Okay, the results
of the steroid test are in.

The contestants, they're all clean.

I want a fair
contest here.

No biting each other.

Ready, set, mangia.

Man, we got some race
going on over here, ladies and gents.

Look at 'em go.

Hey, cocksucker!

You hire some fly-by-night
piece of shit and you don't tell nobody?

- Whoa, Bobby.
- What the fuck you talking about?

You know what I'm talking
about, you cheap fuck!

Bobby, come on!

Everybody wants to get rich,
but you don't scrimp on safety.

- Mind your business, Bobby.
- My baby girl was in that car!

- You owe me money, Paulie.
- I owe you shit.

- My wife's got nerve damage!
- Fuck her, too!

- Get the fuck off me!
- Easy, easy.

Calm down.
Keep moving.

Go ahead, it's over.
Crown the winner.

I was at the feast,
St. Elzear's.

The thing for us kids was
to blow powdered sugar

on each other
from the zeppoles.

Thousands of people
either praying or eating.

Anyway, my sister
was on this ride

with my niece
when it lurched forward

- pretty bad.
- God.

He wasn't there,
just Elzear.

But he was so busy
getting money pinned to his ass

that he got distracted
and a bolt snapped.

Were they hurt?

You look around, all these people
are lined up for this shit.

The kids, adults,
families.

Rides.

Yeah, they pay money
so they can almost puke.

They scream, they yell.

Why do you think that is?

They're bored.

Are you bored?

Am I bored?

I got shot in the pancreas
and I recovered.

No brain damage
from the septic shock,

like everybody
figured I'd have.

You know my feelings.
Every day is a gift.

It's just...

does it have to be
a pair of socks?

I'm joking.

I'm joking.

Well, what are
you gonna do?

It's the human
condition.

What is?

I don't know.

Yeah, this is Peter Gaultieri.

I'm calling for the result
of my biopsy again.

I'm sorry, sir.
They're still not in.

This is cancer
we're talking about.

I understand, sir.
You'll have to call back tomorrow.

Gimme an espresso...

and don't touch
the lemon rind with your fingers.

Hello, Paulie.

What are you
doing here?

The home. It's one
of our outings.

So you're still
over there, huh?

They've been very nice,

and your brother's
trying to work out an arrangement.

Is it true
what they're saying?

Who? About what?

The ride,
the one that broke.

You need to make
a novena, Paulie.

- Those poor children.
- What are you talking about?

You let St. Elzear
go without his hat.

Will you listen to this?
Fuck that voodoo, huh?

You cursed your mother,
a blessed nun.

She had it coming.
You both did.

I didn't bring
you up like that.

You're a fake.
That's how you brung me up.

Fuck the two of you.

Sir, your espresso.

So in keeping with this
longstanding tradition

of doing everything
ass-fucking-backwards,

we are gathered here tonight
for the bachelor party

of already-married man
Christopher Moltisanti.

And like I always say,

a man is not complete
till he's married.

Then he's finished.

Chrissy.

- Congratulations. T.
- Thanks.

Should we order?

- Yeah, what the fuck are the specials?
- Artie.

I gotta go, Ton'.
The kids.

- Have fun tonight, huh?
- All right.

- Specials, gentlemen.
- Pray tell, my good man.

I got lamb tonight, grilled, garlic,
little rosemary.

Rosemary,
I'll eat her.

Hey, T.

You're doing a heck
of a job there, Brownie.

Huh?

This thing with the ride,
the shit with Bobby,

you settle it
and you settle it now.

And not just 'cause
she's my sister, either.

- Ton', I...
- You put little kids in jeopardy

in the hands of some
fucking redneck?

Not to mention you leave Little Paulie
alone to deal with the cops.

I thought he had it
under control.

Let me ask you a question
about the feast.

Do we need
negative press?

With all the competition
out there

for the entertainment
dollar, DVDs,

the Internet?

You're right, Ton'.

What happened to
the regular ride guy,

the guy we used
last year?

For what he wanted to charge,
I'm getting killed here, Ton'.

When your dad
had St. Elzear's,

it was a cash cow,
and it was easy.

Nowadays, between
paying the church,

these Puerto Ricans now,

ha, my profit's
shrunk to nothing.

If it don't work
as a business, get rid of it.

Not for nothing, but a lot of that feast
goes in your pocket.

I got a lot
on my mind, T.

- I'm sorry.
- Like what?

I had a biopsy.

I might have
prostate cancer.

Well, it's a biopsy,
right?

Nine times out of 10,
these things come back clean.

- I don't know.
- What don't you know?

Don't work yourself
up into a state like you do, hmm?

I've been
having headaches.

I'm afraid maybe the thing
metastasized.

Jesus, will you
listen to yourself, huh?

With all your weird fucking shit about
your body and the germophobias.

- You don't know shit yet.
- It's true.

I'd rather face 10 guys
with shivs than something I can't see.

Exactly. You're too
susceptible to the psychics

and the dream messages
and dirty fucking toilet seats.

It's a biopsy.

Get a grip.

You're right, T.

You know, and negative
thinking can help bring this shit on.

Work something out
with Bobby, huh?

And Eddie Lind's coming down
from Pennsylvania with an envelope.

Meet him at the Bing.

You call him,
you set up a time.

There he is,
the bad lieutenant.

Hey.

I sold mine.

$300 for the five cases.

Oh, I had a heater
put in the Bloomfield wire room.

Guys were complaining.

Well, good.

Yeah, yeah,
that's good.

What's new with you?

Copacetic.

"We're with the Vipers."

- Fun night.
- Fuckin' A.

"Take it easy. Take it easy."

10-4.

You remember the look
on the other guy's face?

Oh, the fucking
Grizzly Adams douchebag.

Yeah.

Dr. Cipolla's service.

I need to talk
to the doctor.

- Is this an emergency?
- Of course.

Dr. Cipolla's out of town.
Dr. Paglieri's on call.

Do you wanna
be connected?

Nah.

Hey, buddy boy,
how you doing?

Any of the girls
working yet?

- Last day already. God, it goes fast.
- Yeah.

St. Anthony's
the week after next.

What's the matter, baby?

Can you believe this? After all this,
she wants to go back on that ride.

She cried
for three nights after.

The ride's closed, baby.

Hey, show everybody
how you can walk.

Come on,
they wanna see.

Okay, show 'em.

Show everybody
how you can walk.

Show 'em.

Baby, come here, baby.
Come on.

Have some candy.
Look, Cracker Jack.

Here you go.

Come on.

Whoo!

Whoa!

Where's our belly?

As you can tell
by this outfit, folks,

I've picked out something
with a little Norwegian flavor.

I'd like to play for you
the "Johnny Oslo Shadish."

It's a typical Norwegian
dance, and who could do it better

than Bobby and Cissy?

Paulie?
I don't wanna argue.

What are you watching?

The "Lawrence Welk"
program, channel 55.

You want some cookies?