Sam Bellows Is Dead

I have a hundred. One hundred and fifty points. Let's see you do better than that with three dots one hand. Go ahead. Go ahead. Toss them. Fifty. Thirty. On the line almost a bullseye but it's only seventy five. What's seventy five and it's like a parody. Twice your IQ.

Who said you could commit a police headquarters blanking? Get out of here. You probably was taught me in here yourself for a dozen times. What about it? Get out of here now. I'm warning you. One of these dots will go wild.

How many points does it count if I catch it between the team? What do you want, Blake? You, which shows how easy I am to satisfy. OK. One hand get lost. We're going with our game a little later.

I better be alone with this game. Talk to the guy that I'm on a hand. What do you want, Blakey? Come on, I'm busy. I've come down here to make you a very happy person, like that.

Well, leave now when you got what you came for. I gotta wait for my target. 30? On the lion fire day from its hand. Ever hear of a guy named Bellows? No. Ah, 50. Lucky shot. Sandbello's a cripple. I never heard of him.

Is that all you came down here for? 75. Ah, that's better. That's awful. I suppose you can do better than you? The answer is yes, no matter what you might be referring to. Give me the dot. Three is all you get. Then you get moving, you hear?

I think you better go down and see the sandbellos and spiking. Oh, you do. And that's nice of you. Why? Because he's dead. Bullseye, that's a hundred. So he's dead, so what? We probably died in natural causes.