For all of those suddenly acquired Friends of Eddie Coyle -- the surprise success of last year -- these are further annals of low crime featuring that ""infuckingcredible"" idiom and the very genuine humor which are just as awful-ly amusing, perhaps more so, although the story per se is not much of a caper, perhaps less so. This is about Digger Doherty who has a barroom (and a prison record) and his activities around South Boston and his still more disastrous experience on a packaged weekend to the gambling tables of Vegas which leave him eighteen K (grand) in the hole; and his brother Paul, a priest, who attempts to buy himself off for three thousand from further involvement in Digger's difficulties; and the loan shark to whom he is scheduled to report -- weekly; and. . . .not to mention his wife Aggie and four children. The scenes in Vegas and with big brother Paul who is no longer willing to put up any indulgences, plenary or otherwise, are the best. Punkdom verite, and you'll be smiling out loud.