Harlem Nights Craps

• Harlem Nights Craps Table Scene
• Harlem Nights Craps Scene Meme
• Harlem Nights Craps Table
• Harlem Nights Craps

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- I got Mr Raymond's cigarettes.

- Go on in the back.

Kid, give me my cigarettes.

Wait, wait, wait! Hold it.

What's this kid doing here?

Get out before I kick your little ass.

You ain't kicking shit.

Don't worryabout him.

He runs errands for me.

I don't care who he is or what he does.

Kids bring me bad luck.

The bet is fading. Stop talking and shoot

the dice. You're fucking up the game.

I ain't shooting shit. I told you kids

bring me bad luck. I can't stand them.

Now, get the f*ck out of here

before I kick your ass.

You ain't whupping shit. Shoot the dice,

you snaggle-toothed motherfucker.

All right, I'm going to shoot.

But I'd better not crap.

That's all I know, I'd better not crap.

Come on, 6. I've been waiting all night.

Harlem Nights Craps Table Scene

Baby needs shoes, new clothes.

- And you need some teeth.

- Shoot the goddamn dice, man!

I'm going to shoot the damn dice.

I'll send every one of you home broke.

Come on, 6, with your bad ass.

Come on!

Craps!

What are you doing with this kid in here?

Didn't I say they're bad luck?

What's that sign say? 'Ray's Place'.

That's me. This is my place.

I have in here whoever I want.

You lost. So pass the dice,

or buy them from this motherfucker.

- And I ain't selling.

- I ain't buying.

I'm going to shoot this again and

you're going to get this kid out of here.

What the f*ck is wrong with you?

Man, look, you shot, you lost.

We'd have paid you

if you won, but you lost.

Now, go home and brush that tooth.

You think that's funny?

I told you

I couldn't stand kids in the room.

- They're bad luck. You wouldn't listen.

- I'm listening.

Listen to this.

I want back all the money

I lost tonight plus what you took in.

Do you understand me,

you smooth-talking son of a bitch?

Tell that old frog-faced dude to go

out there and bring back the money.

Tell him, or I'll stick your ass,

and I'm going to stick him,

and I'll stick this littleYankee ass,

bad-luck motherfuckerstanding here.

Then you'll have to stick us

because I ain't giving you shit.

Wait! Before you do,

I just want to tell you one thing.

Tell me what, punk?

What the f*ck do you want to tell me?

What do you want to tell me?

- It slips my mind.

- Slips your mind?

Holy shit!

Goddamn. I guess

he does have bad luck with kids.

He was going to stab us, so I shot him.

Bennie, Slim, Moses, would you help

get this dead motherfucker out, please?

The game's over for tonight.

I'm taking this boy home to his mother.

My mama's dead.

- Well, your daddy.

- My father's dead, too.

- Did you kill them?

- No, they're just dead.

Give me that pistol.

Where do you stay?

- I don't live nowhere.

- You can stay with me for a while.

I wouldn't trust him in the house.

- He's all right. Give me five!

- I ain't giving you shit.

He's one hell of a motherfucker.

Come on.

- I'll clean up.

- Please.

So you shot him.

How about some ice cream?

CLUB SUGARRA Y:

- Ray, look. Tommy is coming.

- Where?

- Over there.

- Oh, shit!

- Mr Smalls, good evening.

- My man. How are you doing, brother?

- Thank you.

- Do you want me to kick his ass?

No, don't kick his ass.

Thank you, Roberto.

It looks like the competition

has stopped by to check us out.

That's Tommy Smalls.

He runs the Pitty Pat Club.

I know that's Smalls, but who's

that girl with him? She is beautiful.

Wait a minute.

Don't mess around with her.

That's the mistress of a famous

gangster namedBugsy Calhoune.

That's Calhoune's girl?

I heardabout her.

What would a woman that fine

want with a fat, nasty, greasy,

fat, stank, bloated,

cheesy-backed, twelve-sandwich-eating

- I got Mr Raymond's cigarettes.

- Go on in the back.

Kid, give me my cigarettes.

Wait, wait, wait! Hold it.

What's this kid doing here?

Get out before I kick your little ass.

You ain't kicking shit.

Don't worryabout him.

He runs errands for me.

I don't care who he is or what he does.

Kids bring me bad luck.

The bet is fading. Stop talking and shoot

the dice. You're fucking up the game.

I ain't shooting shit. I told you kids

bring me bad luck. I can't stand them.

Now, get the f*ck out of here

before I kick your ass.

You ain't whupping shit. Shoot the dice,

you snaggle-toothed motherfucker.

All right, I'm going to shoot.

But I'd better not crap.

That's all I know, I'd better not crap.

Come on, 6. I've been waiting all night.

Baby needs shoes, new clothes.

- And you need some teeth.

- Shoot the goddamn dice, man!

I'm going to shoot the damn dice.

I'll send every one of you home broke.

Come on, 6, with your bad ass.

Come on!

Craps!

What are you doing with this kid in here?

Didn't I say they're bad luck?

What's that sign say? 'Ray's Place'.

That's me. This is my place.

I have in here whoever I want.

You lost. So pass the dice,

or buy them from this motherfucker.

- And I ain't selling.

- I ain't buying.

I'm going to shoot this again and

you're going to get this kid out of here.

What the f*ck is wrong with you?

Man, look, you shot, you lost.

We'd have paid you

if you won, but you lost.

Now, go home and brush that tooth.

You think that's funny?

I told you

I couldn't stand kids in the room.

- They're bad luck. You wouldn't listen.

- I'm listening.

Listen to this.

I want back all the money

I lost tonight plus what you took in.

Do you understand me,

you smooth-talking son of a bitch?

Tell that old frog-faced dude to go

out there and bring back the money.

Tell him, or I'll stick your ass,

and I'm going to stick him,

and I'll stick this littleYankee ass,

bad-luck motherfuckerstanding here.

Then you'll have to stick us

because I ain't giving you shit.

Wait! Before you do,

I just want to tell you one thing.

Tell me what, punk?

What the f*ck do you want to tell me?

What do you want to tell me?

- It slips my mind.

- Slips your mind?

Holy shit!

Goddamn. I guess

he does have bad luck with kids.

He was going to stab us, so I shot him.

Bennie, Slim, Moses, would you help

get this dead motherfucker out, please?

The game's over for tonight.

I'm taking this boy home to his mother.

My mama's dead.

- Well, your daddy.

- My father's dead, too.

- Did you kill them?

- No, they're just dead.

Give me that pistol.

Where do you stay?

- I don't live nowhere.

- You can stay with me for a while.

I wouldn't trust him in the house.

- He's all right. Give me five!

- I ain't giving you shit.

He's one hell of a motherfucker.

Come on.

- I'll clean up.

- Please.

So you shot him.

How about some ice cream?

CLUB SUGARRA Y:

- Ray, look. Tommy is coming.

- Where?

- Over there.

- Oh, shit!

- Mr Smalls, good evening.

- My man. How are you doing, brother?

- Thank you.

- Do you want me to kick his ass?

No, don't kick his ass.

Thank you, Roberto.

It looks like the competition

has stopped by to check us out.

That's Tommy Smalls.

He runs the Pitty Pat Club.

I know that's Smalls, but who's

that girl with him? She is beautiful.

Wait a minute.

Don't mess around with her.

That's the mistress of a famous

Harlem Nights Craps Scene Meme

gangster namedBugsy Calhoune.

Harlem Nights Craps Table

That's Calhoune's girl?

I heardabout her.

What would a woman that fine

want with a fat, nasty, greasy,

Harlem Nights Craps

fat, stank, bloated,

cheesy-backed, twelve-sandwich-eating