Yeah.! Yeah.! [Woman Continues Screaming]
A silly misunderstanding... Mm-hmm. Someone nailed yo'ass.!
Mm-hmm, yeah, I'm gon' nail yo' ass! I'm gon' nail yo' ass!
I'm gon'nail yo' ass!
Yep, I nailed his ass.
I thought he'd outgrown trains.
They never grow up, lady. They just get tubby.
How charming. An aphorist.
Oh, yeah, I've always had ample proportions.
But believe you me, it's all muscle. I'm as hard as a rock.
I'm not one of these cream puff, sit-behind-the-desk private dicks.
I'm an ass-nailer. So I see.
Gym four times a week... hour and a half, plus stretching,
LifeCycle, LifeStep, LifeCircuit.
Gus Petch don't pussyfoot around.
I must say, for someone in your line of work, you don't exhibit a great deal of tact.
You want tact, call a tactician. You want an ass nailed, you call Gus Petch.
Christ, you seem to be taking it pretty good.
I seen 'em come in here, weep and wail like Baptists at a funeral.
Like they hired me to prove their husbands weren't foolin' around.
Don't get me wrong, Mr., um... Petch.
Gus Petch.
Whilst I don't find this terribly amusing, I am delighted that you found this material.
This is going to be my passport to wealth,
independence and freedom.