Mikey: I wouldn't shoot a cop, Mo. Come on, you know me.
Bosco: Do I?
Mikey: Oh, you don't believe me? Okay, go to hell.
Bosco: I'm taking you in.
Mikey: Oh, great. Oh, that's how you're gonna help me?
Bosco: Listen to me. You're wanted. Do you understand that? You're wanted as a cop killer. Do you want Mom to have to go to your funeral? Do you want her to have to pick out the box you're gonna be buried in?