"The Unwhackables" (Skit in description)

"The Day After The Nick"

Al Capone's Personal Barber: "Please hold still today, sir."

Al: "You think I don't know that I gotta hold still for a shave? Who are you to talk to me that way?! Tommy?! Get my bat!"

Tommy: "Certainly, sir. Right away, sir."

Barber: [Shuddering] "Please, Mr. Capone...? I'm so, so sorry, sir."

Al: "The bat ain't for you. I need it for dinner tonight to whack a sloppy son of a bitch. It's supposed to be a surprise, so you better not say nothin'. You barbers got big mouths."

Barber: "Mum's the word, Mr. Capone."

Al: Mum?! You bein' cute with me?! You got a lotta nerve! Tommy?! Grab a second bat!"

Tommy: "They're not like bullets, Mr. Capone. They're reusable."

Al: "You think I'm stupid, or somethin'?! 3 bats!"

Tommy: [Worried] I don't understand, Mr. Capone."

Al: "You wouldn't, would you, you beefy brainless goon. [Turns to the barber: face slathered with foam.] Do YOU understand?"

[The barber shakes his head, trembling.]

Al: "Of course not. Let me give you guys a mob I.Q. test. Is that okay with you?"

[Tommy and the barber nod in unison, nervously, as Al turns to look at them, spitting some foam in the process that blew into his mouth from heavy nasal breathing.]

Al: "Toes... shins... knees... and so on and so forth... human resources... Capiche?"

Barber: "Sir, do you mean multiple men with bats striking one man at once?"

Al: "VERY GOOD! You're all right! Nah, I'm just kiddin' around. Grab some balls, Tommy. We're goin' to the stadium."

Tommy: "Shwew! Excellent, sir. I'll fetch some gloves, too."

Al: "No, no, no. Duct tape."

Tommy: "Sir?"

Al: "You, the barber here, and anyone else who crosses me today is gonna be in the outfield hopin' not to take one to the skull or the family jewels. Maybe you'll be dead... Maybe you'll never have kids. It's none o' my business."

Tommy: "None of your business, sir?"

Al: "That's right. I love baseball, but I'm no pro. Some of the top players in the nation are gonna be tryin' to whack you."

Tommy: "Forgive me, Mr. Capone, but how will you know whether or not they're trying to hit us with the balls?"

Al: "Oh, geez. That's true. I doubt any o' those guys are killers. I'll have to have 'em vetted, so this may take a while."

Barber: "Sir? Forgive me, but if any of them run to the authorities, you could spend the rest of your life in prison for conspiracy to commit murder."

Al: "Damn! That's true. Say... You guys are pretty sharp after all: real assets to the organization. I can't have either o' you whacked. That's all. Back to work."

Barber: "Are you ready to stay still now for the shave, Mr. Capone?"

Al: "That's it! You 'n' me are goin' to the tennis court after my shave and I'm gonna launch a bushel o' balls at you with one o' those... catapults, I think they're called. Sound good?"

Barber: "Yes, sir."

Al: "Liar. [Giggles] Yeah, yeah, yeah... I know you knew that there was no right answer. If you'd said 'maybe', we'd have been back to Plan A."

[The barber rolls his eyes as Al leans back and relaxes for the shave.]