Duration: 2m36s

Hey, hey, wait. Hey, hey, guys. Look, look. You can't be here, man. - Y-You got to go. - Why? It's private property, that's why. It's an abandoned orphanage. Why can't we be here? Who gives a shit, man? What are you doing here? You fucking protecting the ghosts of dead orphans? Look, fat Kanye, shut your damn mouth. I'll be back in five minutes for you assholes. If you're still here, I'm calling the cops, period. You better get the cops, man, 'cause you're a fake cop. - You need the real ones. - Motherfuckers. - Fuck all of y'all. - I feel bad. We-we were a little too mean. - Yeah. - He's nice. Yeah, he's a really good guy. See, that guy... that is what is wrong with Staten Island. We don't get any cool people from any of the other boroughs. No one comes here. We're stuck with the fucking pricks that live here. You're talking about us. Right in front of us. Yeah, kinda. I mean, no one comes here. There's no flow of people. That guy's, like, 200. We've known him since we were six. Why can't we be cool like Brooklyn? There's no reason we shouldn't be cool like Brooklyn. We got amazing views. It's close to the city. It's cheap. Nice people. It makes no sense. We're, like, the only place that New Jersey looks down on. You could see the garbage dump from space. This place is never gonna change. No, it happened to the Meatpacking District, the Village. Brooklyn used to be a fucking shithole. We are next. I'm gonna take my civil service test. I'm gonna work in the city, in city planning. You watch, this place is gonna be like fucking Williamsburg - in ten years. - No, all right? No. Nobody wants that. Why do you want to work in the city and do city planning? That sounds so boring. I feel like Brooklyn is better. I dated a guy that lived in Brooklyn. He was a mixologist. He made ice cubes out of milk. - He was so classy. - Shut up! I love Staten Island. It's amazing. And people are gonna see it soon, trust me. Well, if you love it so much, why don't you let me tattoo it on you? No, I'm not gonna let you tattoo me again. Fine. Well, I need somebody to tattoo. I'm, I-I'm running out of... Come on, Rich. What about you, man? - Don't even look at me, dude. - Why? Your work is mad inconsistent. Obama ain't right. I got the eyes wrong, okay? He's not right. All right, man, this has hurt me, all right? I don't have any black friends anymore. I can't go to a barber shop no more. You got Obama wrong. Ain't nothing worse than that. What about you, Igor? You want a dragon or something? Oh, I love your tattoos. My brother? It's a spitting image. - Yeah. It's one of the best. - It's my favorite. No, no, no, no. This is my favorite. Oh, you killed that. - Yeah, I really worked hard on the eyes. - Just... He's so cute. I love his butthole. It reminds me that I have a belly button. - So, I'm good. - Yeah, I got to go. Watching you beg to give tattoos is too sad. And that's freaking me out. We're almost done. Almost.