Tommy DeVito: Hey Frank, let's chop him up. Frankie Carbone: All right. Tommy DeVito: Where you going? Where you going, you dizzy motherfucker, you? Frankie Carbone: To chop him up. Tommy DeVito: At Charlie's, not here!: Come on, what are you doing? Let's get the fuck outta here. I oughta let him fucking drive. What are you waiting for? Frankie Carbone: The car's cold. Tommy DeVito: Get the fuck outta here! What fucking warm enough? Get outta here!
Morrie is dead in the front seat. Frankie doesn't know weather he's coming or going. Tommy gives orders from the back seat.