Staten Island. Go figure.
Of course only the sentimental hang in the City, Westchester and Tri-State. I’m sure the family living in the gated compound at the bottom of the street are fine upstanding “General Contractors” and “Bonded” just the way their business cards say.
Lock our doors? Why bother?
I’m smart! Not like everybody says! Not Dumb! I’m smart! And I want respect!
Fredo, you’re nothing to me now. You’re not a brother, you’re not a friend. I don’t want to know you or what you do. I don’t want to see you at the hotels, I don’t want you near my house. When you see our mother, I want to know a day in advance, so I won’t be there. You understand?
…
I don’t want anything to happen to him while my Mother is alive.
Though.