[Craig's father catches him with a handgun]

What's that for?

Protection.

Protection from who?

Me and Smoke... I've got to walk Smokey down to his house.

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.

You know how it is 'round here.

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?

I'm a man without it.

Put the gun down.

[Craig complies]

C'mon, put up your dukes.

[Craig raises his fists]

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?

Oh shit!