In New York City, you gotta work.
All these other people, see ‘em?
They’re all working,
So am I.
I take on all the work
—And I never, ever, ever say no.
But now, fuck, I got an eye twitch.
Shit’s beeping out Morse code.
I can’t decipher that.
Is my eye twitch is trying to tell me something?
How am I supposed to know?
Don’t understand Morse code.
Now I guess I gotta learn it,
Could be something real important—
An ancient Mayan blessing
Or a map to buried treasure, I dunno.
If you see me on the F train,
And you know Morse code,
Help a brother out, okay?
I’ll give you a cut of all my treasure,
In New York, finder’s fee’s like what?
Fine, maybe ten.
But you gotta know Morse code.