Snowed in. Can you believe him?
Right. His daughter's First Communion,
and he gets stuck at an airport.
That's for his own protection.
I'll see you later. Okay?
-I hate flying.
-I know you do. Be safe.
Oh, sweetheart.
Honey.
Your father is so proud of you.
I'm going upstairs.
God damn it, Joe.
The number you have dialed
has been changed.
The new number is unpublished
at the subscriber's request.
Hey, Left, get us checked in over there,
will you?
-Stick around. I'm going to get a paper.
-All right.
Jesus, Joe. That's Hollman, US Attorney,
coming at us.
The guy on the right.
Christ, Joe, what are we going to do?
Why don't you just shut the fuck up?
I'll take care of it.
Anything goes wrong down there,
you have their people call your people
in New York, understand?
I don't want to come down here
and iron anything out.
-You got your plane tickets?
-Joe Pistone.
Remember me? Southern District...
What kind of fucking shit...
-What are you doing?
-Grabbed my cock.
What the fuck!
Shut up. He's working.
Keep your mouth shut.
Fucking degenerate bastard.
What a sick fuck. Grabbed my cock.
I want that club up and running.
I don't care how long it takes.
Here comes a fucking cop.
Get the hell out of here.
Have a safe trip.
You have the tickets and everything?
Listen to me.
Get on the phone.
Get me on the next flight back. Understand?
Don't call me Joe again.
I'll cut your fucking throat, understand?
You piece of shit.
-Daddy?
-Hi, baby.
-Who made you?
-God made me.
-Why did God make you?
-God made me to show his goodness
to make me happy with him in heaven.
-Where is God?
-God is everywhere.
Sweet dreams, angel.
I want a divorce.
He comes home at all hours of the night
without announcing when, why, or where
he's been for the last three months.
And you know what he does?
He rearranges the cabinets.
He remakes the bed.
He vacuums the entire house.
Do you know another man that vacuums?
It's abnormal.
-It's abnormal behavior.
-Well, you know,
changing the phone number and
not telling your husband is pretty normal.
-I don't exist, you don't exist.
-So now I know how it feels.
No, now I know how you feel.
I'll tell you something. It felt good.
Now I do know how it feels
to be so in control.
Now I know how it feels to be strong.
-You love control, don't you?
-Oh, my God.
Please, Joe, just listen.
Otherwise you just play out
the old pathology.
Maggie, you were saying Joe leaves.
Yes, he leaves.
He leaves me with the house
and the kids and the bills,
but not a husband.
I want my husband.
What do you think you're running from?
-I ain't running from nothing.
-"l ain't running from nothing."
You hear yourself?
The man I married was a college man.
Being the distancer
forces Maggie into the role of the pursuer.
This gives you a feeling of power.
Simultaneously, you resent Maggie
-for fulfilling her intimacy needs...
-I'm an undercover agent for the FBl, Doctor.
You and your Mafia faggots
can go screw each other.
I'm not gonna do it anymore.
I really hope that you can help her out
because obviously she's very sick.
You can see that.
Obviously, I'm the sick one.
-You.
-Now,
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday
are Joe's intimacy days.
Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday
are Maggie's.
Now, on your day,
you make an intimacy request.
"Rub my back," or
"l have a problem with the kids.
Could you help me out?"
You sit around in
your safe little fucking house
with your safe little fucking station wagon,
and your safe little friends.
You dream up the next $100 head fuck.
-"Will you rub my back?"
-You're an animal, do you know that?
-Just get in the fucking car.
-Do you know that?
You know what my intimacy request is
for that guy?
It's very intimate.
He can take the bill he's gonna send me
and shove it up his ass.
You want to know why we went to him?
I was hoping he could come up with
one good reason for me not to leave you
because I