[Craig's father catches him with a handgun]
Mr. Jones: What's that for?
Craig: Protection.
Mr. Jones: Protection from who?
Craig: Me and Smoke... I've got to walk Smokey down to his house.
Mr. Jones: Aw, man... your mother and I never would've moved to this neighborhood if we'd known you need a gun to walk down the damn street.
Craig: You know how it is 'round here.
Mr. Jones: Oh, no, son. That's not the way it is. You kids have been nothin' but punks. Sissified. So quick to pick up a gun. Too scared to take an ass-whipping. [Raises his fists] This is what makes you a man. When I was growing up, this was all the protection we needed. You win some, you lose some. But you live, you live to fight another day! Now you think you're a man with a gun in your hands, don't you?
Craig: I'm a man without it.
Mr. Jones: Put the gun down.
[Craig complies]
Mr. Jones: C'mon, put up your dukes.
[Craig raises his fists]
Mr. Jones: Now you're a man. Your uncle picked up a gun, too. He found out the hard way. Twenty-two years old. You've got a choice. This is all you need, alright?
Craig and Smokey [after seeing Big Worm's crew's van]: Oh shit!
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