You're at church. And I'm home drunk.

I am already there as well. Don't see you.

I'm already there.

Stop buying alcohol and save up to get your self a pair of new balls transplanted. Your current balls are no good.

There will be no neighbors to save me in Inwood, I know nobody there. No more excuses.

Meet me at Inwood. 215th Street, 1 Train, first wagon.

You'd do nothing but pray that your shithead neighbors help.

Which they probably would.

I'd wash you.

Interesting conundrum you presented.

You don't have the guts to do that. You destroyed them with all that alcohol you have consumed throughout your life.