The unlucky gangster comes downstairs, not very urbanely, carrying a black case that might look a bit like a machine-gun case. His family are conversing noisily at the breakfast table. He passes them and greets them, but they don’t take too much notice of him. He bids them farewell and walks to the front door, where the camera is positioned, then he suddenly looks into the camera and confides:

“Boy, so lemme tell you what happened last night… I caught my, uh, how-do-you-do in the trouser press. But hey, let’s hope things go a little better today.”