And the Oscar goes to . . .

Sheriff, you’ve got us tuned in all wrong. Ledbetter tried to cut us out of our money.

What’s T. C. got to do with all of this?

I thought you picked us up for knockin’ him around.

You kiddin’? You’re down in our books for prostitution and procuring.

For what?!

You know you’re a dirty fella. You’re downright unclean.

Prostitution? What have we got to do with prostitution?

Hymie Kelly? Where’d you get the name Kelly, Hymie?

From my father, Michael Kelly, and he got it from his father Timothy Kelly. And my mother’s name was Sadie Rabinowitz. Any more questions?

Don’t let ’im bug you Hymie. The picture’s pretty clear. They cover us with enough dirt then nobody can hear us yelling that the Sheriff here has a nice business goin’ with Ledbetter.

Shut your mouth, fella. I’m a duly elected official of this city and I take my job damn serious.

You stole our money pretty damn serious too.

Shut up!

Now if you’re itchin’ for a bruise, keep scratchin’.

Well you really fixed things up fine this time. Now tell me how are you going to get us out of this thing, friend Fane.

Cool it, Laurel, we’re in enough trouble.

You’re telling me? Do you know what they got me booked for?

We know.

If you post a hundred dollars bail a piece, I might be able to get you on the road again.

You took all our money!

There you go again, boy. Money? What money you referrin’ to? I don’t know nothin’ about no money.

We’ll have to sell your car.

My car? That’s all I’ve got.

This isn’t a game of potsie, Laurel. He’s gonna keep us here until we grow webbed feet.

All right. Sell my car.