So, I'm dead...
and I think it's because|of this redhead.
Do you know who I am, Jake?
The Antichrist?
I'm just a guy|looking for some answers.
Hey, you know, pal,|ain't we all?
Things are probably gonna|end bad for you tonight, Jake.
Yeah, I'm starting|to get that feeling.
Is your life flashing|before your eyes?
Honestly?|Just the last three weeks.
It's not a bad place to start.
Calm down, okay? I'm sorry.
I lost my head in there,|I don't know what happened.
You fucking shot him,|that's what happened.
What other fucking choice do I have?|The motherfucker was gonna welch.
Did you not hear him?|Did you not see him?
I can't be here, man,|do you understand me?
- I can't fucking be here!|- Listen to me, all right?
It went to shit,|that happens sometimes.
- Oh, fuck, man!|- You're not listening, Lionel.
We can still get through this,|we still have some time,
but I need you|to use your fucking head,
and I need you to trust me.
Can you do that?
Let's go!
Come on, let's hustle it up.
Come on,|grab his feet, will you?
Lionel, he's dead, all right?|Maybe you didn't pull the trigger,
but you were standing right there|and you saw me do it.
Now grab his fucking legs.
Tick-tock.
Hey, you wanna help, then help.|If not, shut your piehole.
Your mess!
Do me a favor, please,|shut your fucking mouth.
My place.
Maybe now,|you'll shut the fuck up.
Please!
You think this kind of shit|hasn't happened here before?
Given, it's usually on Wednesday and|usually I tell the cops,
"No, officer, I didn't get|a good look at the shooters. "
Usually, anyway...
I swear to God,|I didn't see anything.
You let me go,|I won't say a word, I promise.
Don't get hysterical on us, sweetheart, all|right?
I can't fucking be here!
Then you know what, Lionel,|maybe you should go.
What about the money?
What about this situation|makes you think
I can answer that question,|right now?
Fuck! Fuck!
Freeze!
Freeze, you motherfucking|cocksucking scumbags!
All right, guys,|stop waving those things...
What took you so fucking long?|Jesus Christ!
It's like 100 degrees in here|and I'm lying in this shit forever.
What the fuck! You guys were late,|we had to go to a Mexican stand-off.
We had to go to gunplay.|Gentlemen, that isn't our racket.
We were busy fighting crime.
You're keeping the streets safe|from pedophiles and drug dealers?
Oh! Goddamn it.
I told you, you're using too much powder,|look at my fucking shirt.
I understand,|but you know something?
You don't get|the nice splatter effect.
Look at this splatter effect.
The ones with blood|come out of your cut.
- I can live with that.|- Hey, Jake,
when do I get|to play the inside?
Gordo plays the inside.|You are the shill, you know that.
Yeah, but come on, all I do|is cry and get insulted here.
What are you talking about?
You should get a fucking Academy Award|for the shill work you do.
Big Al, does anyone|do it better than you?
Come on, we've got|a good thing going here.
You want to jinx us|by changing things?
Yeah, you're right,|I don't want to jinx anything.
Of course I'm right.|Here you go, that's your cut.
- Thank you.|- Good work, paisan.
- What?|- It's a lot of cash.
He came up with it|awfully quick.
Did you see how quickly|he got out of here?
- He's not coming back, it's over.|- Okay, fine.
I've gotta pinch a loaf.|Did anybody mess up the hoop?
- It's clean.|- Gentlemen,
10%, your cut. Enjoy!
You guys got a lot of sack, man.|I'll give you that much.
It's confidence.|Just confidence.
It doesn't matter what the con is.
Insider trading,|a line we got at a bookie club,
insurance scam, whatever.
You've seen the money|and you want it. More of it.
So who cares if you have|to bend the rules a little bit?
As long as nobody gets hurt.
But then somebody does.
Tommy Suits always said,|"A confidence game
is like putting on a play,|where everyone knows their part.
The inside man, the roper,|the shills,
everyone, that is,|except for the mark. "
So now you're|an accomplice in a homicide.
Everything you thought|you were in control of,
just flew out the window,|or is dripping down your leg.
You should be running out the door,
desperate to forget|that this ever happened,
and ready to repent|your greedy ways.
What about the money?
Then there it is again, that itch.
There's a guy standing in front|of you with a smoking gun,
another guy on the floor|bleeding all over the place,
and all you can do|is think about the money.
You're a sick twisted fuck.
So we gotta make sure|we give you the blow off.
We have to make sure that you never|ever come looking for us again.
We have to get you off|of our backs, forever.
That's why|we give you the fix.
Fuck.
Fuck! Fuck!
Fuck!
LAPD's finest.
Half as smart|and twice as crooked
- as the guy they just chased away.|- Freeze! Motherfucking scumbags...
Sucking-fucking cocksuckers!
Grifters.
We all can't be|model citizens such as yourself.
- It's all about the money, isn't it?|- Ain't it always?
That's what makes us run.
- What's your name?|- Dutch.
- And despite what they say...|- I love that name.
- Me too.|- It can buy you love.
Check it out,|original leather seats,
soft top, and you're gonna|love this, suicide doors.
Nice!
It can say everything about you.
It can erase all those things|about you, you wish didn't exist.
It's Alphonse. I wanna settle up.
No, I haven't been ducking you.
I told you, I get it.
It can make you think|you're on top of the world.
And if you believe that money|can do all that for you,
you are the perfect mark.
Oops!
Wasn't it Jack Kerouac who said,
"If you own a rug,|you own too much. "
I don't necessarily like Kerouac,
and driving cross-country|isn't my idea of a good time,
but the guy's got a point.
...three messages.
Hey, it's Monica, Bill. I'm still|dizzy from the other night. Call me.
Hi Scott, Just thought I'd call you|and tell you I'm back.
You know the number,|it's Kate, by the way.
Bruce, it's Cheryl, if you don't want to see|me, just say so.
But this is the last time|I'm calling.
If you've got nothing,|you've got nothing to lose.
But when it comes to money, whether it's|finding it or losing it,
you just have to remember|how much of it is just luck.
Oops!
Just dumb fucking luck.
Mr. Dolby?
Mr. King would like a word with you.
- Now? Right now?|- We have a car waiting.
- Hello.|- You better get over to Al's now.
For what?
Hello?
Nothing.|Who the fuck?!
There's a couple hundred bucks on|his dresser. All of his shit's here.
This definitely wasn't|a random thing.
Is it ever a random thing?
Shit, Al.|What did you do?
- Let's just think about this...|- This fucking town, man.
Jesus Christ,|I had a bad feeling about LA.
Didn't I say that?|This damn fucking town!
Gordo, now is not|the time for that, all right?
I'm sorry,|I'm just a little...
Jesus Christ. Look at|what they did to him, Jake.
Right in the middle|of his egg foo yung.
Think they know about us?|What if they get to us too?
Don't start|freaking out, okay?
Let's get Al out of here first.|Miles, get a blanket or something.
No, we're going to|leave him right here.
What are you, high?
We're not leaving Al here.
Grab that end, now.|Grab it, Miles!
Miles, pick up the table|and put it back.
Gordo, let go of the fucking rug.|I said we're leaving him here.
Drop it.
Fuck you! How long have we|worked with this fucking guy?
I'm not going to just fucking|leave him here! All right?
Gordo,|get a fucking grip.
We're leaving him here.
Big Al used to send|money to his father,
a Vietnam vet slowly losing his mind in a VA|hospital in Cleveland.
- Al was like that.|- Now you coming?
That's why Al never|played the inside.
There he is.|So what do you hear?
Well, Lionel Dolby came down with a|sudden case of drowning last night.
They just pulled him out|of the Silverlake reservoir.
Now I know why he|was such a good rope.
I mean, cash, that much, and we never had|to put him on the send?
Turns out this fucking mope|is an accountant for the King.
The what? Who's that?
The cash we fleeced off him|was collection money.
Bookies, pushers,|you know, whatever.
He was supposed to take that|money and give it back to the King
earlier yesterday,|like he does every Thursday,
except this time that fucking stenad figured|he could make
a little something off of us and still get the|money back to King
before anybody says, "Boo. "
- Okay, what's a king?|- Currently?
A very large-type pole stuck|right up our asses, Miles.
- Mob?|- No.
No. Independent.
Winston King.
He likes to call|himself "The King. "
How'd they get to Al?
It's beautiful.
Last night Al calls some|bookie out in Redondo,
tells them he's got|the cash to settle up.
Because, apparently he's been ducking this|guy for like a month.
Classic fucking Al, right?
So the bookie asks where he's|got this money, all of a sudden.
Does Al tell this guy that he just cashed a|fucking bar mitzvah bond?
That he's been giving head|for 20 bucks a pop? No.
No.
The fucking idiot starts|going on and on about how
this job he just pulled,|how he fleeced Dolby...
how he fleeced...
- You pissed we didn't get credit?|- No, no, no.
That was the only semi-fucking|smart thing he said.
Except, anybody that's|ever met Big Al
knows the only thing he's comfortable|doing alone
is eating.
So this guy tells that guy,|that guy tells some other guy,
eventually it gets back to someone who|works for the King and...
Shazaam.
Any idea who|the shooter was?
Specifically?|I don't know.
But, I'm sure they're|looking for us, too.
All right, just an idea, let's divvy up the|cash and split.
Excuse me. Are you new?|Is that the thing? Is he new?
Miles, this guy holds a grudge better than|my ex-mother-in-law.
You remember that Moshe Macelli? That|Jew-Italian guy from Boston?
They used to call him Matzo Mazzarelli?|Remember that?
The guy with the face spaz?
It's called a facial twitch, Miles.
And the guy was not|born like that, you know.
Five years ago, Matzo was turf-fixing for|the King at Santa Anita,
and he skimmed two grand|before skipping town.
Five years later King|finally catches up to him,
keeps him chained in his fucking bathroom|for like five days.
Oh, God.
Now just say the word King,|and he spits up all over himself.
- Jesus!|- Pathetic.
Even words like Vi-king and|shrin-king, they set the guy off.
That's a five-year grudge|over $2000.
So we go talk to him.
Whoa, whoa, whoa,|You wanna give the money back?
- I didn't say that.|- Pittsburgh.
Madrone.
Pittsburgh is where|it's happening.
Bird flew into my|house last night, too.
Not a good sign, Gordo.
The Euclid was our place.
Gordo fleeced the deed off|some jack-off in a card game.
We used it every now and then for|a rag, but mostly it was our office.
Our power point.
What are you doing?
Where the hell's that going?
- We want insurance?|- Jesus Christ, Miles.
I'm just asking.
Just mail it.
Yeah, I'm looking|for the King, please.
Just tell him it's regarding|an accounting problem.
Yeah, he'll know.
Hollywood and Vine?|Okay.
- When?|- Two hours from now.
- But just me.|- Fuck that. We're going too.
Let's all just put our dicks back in our|pants for a second, okay?
Is this the best|thing to do, Jake?
How do you know the King|is going to let you walk, Jake?
'Cause I'm getting a ride.
Don't be dicking around|in there, okay?
And if he shoots you or stabs you or|causes you to bleed profusely,
call a cab, 'cause your ass|ain't getting back in here.
Thanks, guys.
We appreciate your punctuality.|Mr. King is expecting you.
Lupus!
You said to pat him down,|so I'm patting him down.
It only takes a|moment to be polite.
My apology, Mr. Vig.|If you wouldn't mind?
- So you the guy that got Big Al?|- Nope.
Mr. King farms out|that kind of work. Please.
After you.
Wait with the ladies.
Harlin.
Okay, now you see|that right there?
Find out who she is. Make a note.|I think it's channel 42 or 3.
- A little harder.|- The girls are here and the kid.
Also got the Seldin brothers|with a shipment.
- Bring them in.|- Which?
- Whatever.|- The brothers, the girl or the kid?
Oh that's good. Whoever. Come on. I'm|getting a massage, Harlin.
You got it, boss.
Jake, ladies.
Harlin, I think I bet that dog.
Go! Go! Go!
Hey.
Well, look it here.
- Hi, girls.|- Hi.
So, are you two together?
We're sisters.
I like sisters!
Jake, I can't quite see.|Why don't you move a little bit,
so that I can check them out|then you can check them out?
Thanks.
- Sisters, huh?|- Mm-hmm.
- And you're over 18?|- Yeah.
Harlin, let's see|what the sisters can do.
- Put them in the booth.|- Ladies.
Oh, by the way,|he had an escort.
LAPD.
That's a little overreacting,|I'm not gonna hurt you.
It's just a little insurance,|that's all.
Uh-huh.|So, they're on the take for you.
Shh. You must be pretty good if|you got cops driving you around.
Is that because|you look so innocent,
and you're kind of cute there|aren't you?
Yeah, it's something like that.
So what do you do, tiger?
You just con people|out of their money?
There is actually|some technique to it.
You mean, like... style.
Yeah, it helps,|don't you think?
No, style is at the end of my list,|I'll tell you why,
when I was a young man like you|just starting out,
my first big score,|this guy we robbed.
I think his name was...|Chinatown Schmidt!
It was nothing big,|my end was about $800.
The first thing I did, I go out|and get myself a suit, right?
Yeah, I looked good.|It was like white.
It was white.|It was white white.
White, white, white, white, white!
Oh, I looked good, man.
I walked down the street,|everybody was checking me out.
- Male and female.|- I'm sure they did.
Anyway, the first day I wore it out,
October, it was still hot out.
We were kicking back in Malibu|and Chinatown Schmidt, right?
He catches up with us, so two guys|roll by and boom, boom, boom, boom!
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
Six of us, scatter, man.|The dust settles.
Everybody's checking|their fingers and their toes.
And who is the one guy|that got hit, sailor?
You know why?
White suit!
I was the first thing they saw,|I was the first thing they aimed at.
I was the first thing they hit.
So what did I learn|that day, Jake?
Don't wear white|after Labor Day, maybe?
No. Sometimes, Jake,
style can get you killed.
Mr. King,|the girls are ready!
Oh great! Wait, sport,|you're gonna love this.
- You ever been here before?|- No, it's not really my thing.
Oh, you don't know that.|Tuesday we got Disco Night,
Wednesday is that|electronic music shit,
Thursdays are|Gay and Lesbian Night.
That is very tasteful, by the way.|Ow! Ow! Ow!
Lupus, I want you|to get me... Lupus!
Goddamn it, you're looking at them|or you're working for me?
I want you to get me an espresso,|please, and tell that bitch
to give me back my slippy dips.|Come on. Now!
Let me ask you something,|why one of my guys?
Why Lionel Dolby?
My six-year-old nephew could con|anything out of that dude. Why?
Look, if we knew Dolby|was connected to you,
we'd never have gone near him, so|I apologize for any inconvenience.
Honest mistake,|all right?
It's just something between two guys|that don't know each other yet.
So we're gonna make|an exchange of the money
and all will be forgiven.|Isn't that right?
- No. That I won't do.|- Won't?
You won't.|You won't.
I want you to look very hard at me,|motherfucker, and tell me why.
Let me rephrase that.|That I can't do.
Because A, I don't have the money,|and B, you killed one of my guys.
One of your guys.|That's four-spot, right?
- Yeah.|- Four.
One of your guys, huh?
I gotta take a pill,|or I'm all over the place.
- This is confidential, right?|- Yeah.
Mm! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!
Hey, stop it!|Stop that right now!
They can't hear me. Harlin,|get them outta there, Goddamn it.
Down! Down! Shit, man.
How do you like that?|They're sisters.
Let me ask you something.|I want a straight answer now.
You did not know|that Dolby was connected to me?
- You heard me before.|- But it's so important
that you don't stray from the truth|in this one little part.
I didn't know.
You're a good grifter, man.
It's hard to tell when you're lying.
But I'm getting there.|Come here, girls.
Now listen, it's the first time|I've ever put girls in the booth.
Usually, they work their way up.
You're gonna go work on your routine,|you know why?
Because you're saying|that you are sisters.
- Mm-mm, We are sisters.|- Shh.
- We're very close.|- Let me talk. Let me talk.
- You don't like what we're doing?|- Of course I like what you're doing
but I like it done|with artistry, with grace,
and that means,|if you're gonna eat each other,
you must find a way|to do it tastefully, okay?
These are people here,|they've got families, all right?
- Okay.|- You understand? Then go work!
- Go on. Go on!|- Ladies.
Tell me this,
how are you and I|gonna resolve our shit?
I get you what I owe you,
plus interest,|by going on the grift for you.
I like that. Okay, sit down.|Put your baby cakes down here,
that cute little|Irish muscle ass you got.
Look, I came here|to do a deal,
not play grab-ass with you,|you freak, all right?
- Humor.|- You heard my proposal
- Humor, Jake, junior,|buster, humor. Come on.
You wanna get out of here|I gotta open up the place.
Come on, sit down.|Business. Come on.
All right. Here's what I...
- you don't want to sit closer?|- No, I'm fine over here, thank you.
All right.
Can I see your hand?
You got a big hand. Let me see|your hand, I'm not gonna bite you.
Look at that hand, man.|You should have been a pianist,
or a guitarist,|look at the size of that.
Wow. See this?
That's your love line.|That's your money line.
And that's looking very very good.
And that's your life line,|going all the way down...
Uh-oh.
You see that little gap there.
It means that at one point|you could have a little trouble.
But it's up to you|to make it better.
I want you to talk to me|and I want you to make me happy.
And I don't want you to scare me.
You do not want to scare me, junior.
What's gonna happen, now?
I play a con.|You get a cut, I get a cut.
We get square.
And I give you the who|and you give me the how, right?
And you can|because you're so good, right?
I like to think so.
Okay, you're gonna do this|with Morgan Price.
- Morgan Price?|- Yes.
- Impossible.|- Why?
'Cause you can't get to him.|He's too big.
You got to me.
- Yeah, but we got to you because...|- What?
You were a fluke, a mistake.
That's a good answer.
- Why Morgan Price?|- 'Cause he's very important to me.
Lupus!
Don't fuck with me, junior,|okay? Lupus!
You know what?
You're gonna take|my friend Lupus with you, okay?
Absolutely not,|that's not the way I operate.
- Shh.|- I work with my guys.
You're gonna take Lupus with you.
That's the way I operate.
Look at me, now.|Tell me we're set.
- Yeah. We're set.|- Good.
We're done|with all this business now?
The rest of it|depends on you.
I think I'm done.
# Erotica #
# Romance #
# Erotica #
# Romance #
# My name is Dita #
# I'll be your mistress tonight #
# I'd like to put you|in a trance... #
Excuse me, miss? Miss!
I think you dropped something.
You know you're good,|but you're not that good.
I spotted that lift|from across the club.
Wait?|You don't recognize me?
- Tony, could you get my car?|- Sure!
You really don't remember me,|do you?
Should I?
Oh, right.
That's good.
So, you're interested|in a little work?
You couldn't afford me.
Not with $27
and a maxed-out Visa, John.
Or is it Tom or Bill?
Hard to tell|with so many IDs.
Yeah, well, the name's Jake.
And don't flatter yourself, sweetheart.
That's one thing|I never had to pay for,
and I don't consider it work.
Guess you got|the wrong girl then.
Do me a favor,|take a deep breath and count to 10.
I'm talking about a grift,|and it pays well.
Unless you think|you're gonna get rich
jerking off geriatrics|in that place.
I didn't know you cared.
Keep the wallet.
We're even.
Take a deep breath,
count to 10, and...
go fuck yourself!
Look, it pays well.
Six figures.
All you gotta do|is play a part,
do a little acting.
You think|you can handle that?
Why me?|You don't even know me.
'Cause what I've seen, I liked.
And I got|a good feeling about you.
Hasn't anyone ever|said that to you before?
No.
- Thanks, Tony.|- You bet!
But, I'll think about it.
All right, I think|it will be worth your while.
Make a wish.
11:11, make a wish.
That's twice!
- I can see why you liked her.|- Yeah, I liked her a lot.
And that was it, we had our crew.
Now all we needed was the con.
Bottoms. Oh...
- Oh well.|- Shit!
What's up, guys?
Who's the mope?
This is Lupus.
He works with the King and now|he's gonna be part of our crew.
I'm here to make sure|things go smoothly.
Anybody got a light?
And this is Lily.
She's the new shill|I was telling you about.
- Whoa.|- Whoa, whoa, whoa...
Hold the fucking phone,|what is this?
Are we playing a con, or are we doing a|rendition of "Our Town"?
Gordo, trust me.|We need the help on this one.
Our new mark?|Morgan Price.
Why?
Because, that's who the King|wants us to fleece.
And besides,|the price is perfect.
I'm not supposed to wait for you,|you're supposed to wait for me.
His old man|was a big time mob attorney.
Which makes him|a second generation crook.
When he dropped dead, Price|carried on the family tradition,
by opening a one-stop shopping center for|money laundering
and low interest corporate fraud.
Well, fuck him!
Almost $1 billion gets washed|through his shop every year,
so we know|he's got the money.
It's just a matter|of getting to it.
How much|are we going after?
$5 million.
- We can only hold the King at 150.|- I know.
That's why we don't go|after him directly.
First, we find a doable mark|in Price's bank,
a mid-level employee.
We meet him with papers,|inquiring about a corporate loan.
Our guy then fudges numbers|in the right places.
Moves our papers to the top|of the pile or to the bottom,
depending upon what we need.
Our loan is approved.
On the given day,
the money's wired into a corporate|account in an offshore bank.
That same day, I show up|in Belize with the proper ID,
and corporate papers|to make the withdrawal.
- Um-mm.|- What? What is it, Miles?
I'm just thinking|out loud here...
but $5 million|in a briefcase?
Good point.
It's bank policy not|to release this money in cash,
'cause it's under|a corporate account.
So we then cash the check|at another bank.
Any major airport's|gonna be too hard to control.
LAX is out.|So we use Ontario.
Mid-level hub|with direct international flights.
40 minutes outside LA.|This is the most important part,
you can't just walk|into the United States
with a suitcase full of cash,
without evoking the words|"cavity search. "
That's why we need someone|on the inside at Customs.
Then we disappear.
Now this might just be me,|but that is hands down
the dumbest fucking idea|I've ever heard.
People have tried this before, Jake.
It's never worked.
Teddy Fraiser and his crew|got nailed in Vancouver last year.
It's never worked before,
because, A,|they didn't flush the bank enough,
B, their corporate papers|were for shit,
and C, unlike us,
they did not have somebody|on the inside at Customs.
Yeah, or D,|it's a dumb fucking idea!
Hey!
What do you fucking suggest,|Miles? You wanna run?
We never had|a problem with that, before.
We never had|a fucking problem like this before.
Yes, we have, okay?
And we would have been|beautiful about it.
We would have had|a bucket of fried chicken,
delivered to the King with a nice
Kiss My Ass card attached to it,|and we would have moved on
until the next|local putz caught on.
We're getting|too old to run, Miles.
Yeah well, we're still|a little too young for San Quentin.
Look, I'm... I mean,|are you pissed off about Al?
Look at me.
Trust me, I'm pissed too.
But I'm not 25-to-life pissed.
Look, I'm getting clear of this.
All right?
So if you don't want to do it|for the fucking principle,
do it for the money.|Gordo?
Yeah, Jake, whatever.
There's no whatever with this one.
You're either with me|or against me.
No third position.
I'm in.
Aw, what a relief.
Oh, fuck.
I agreed with Miles,
it was hands down,|a dumb fucking idea.
But they bought in,|now I had to deliver...
- Yeah, it's Vig.|- And I needed help.
What are we gonna do|with this stuff? I mean, heroin.
- What do you do with heroin?|- You sell it.
- To who?|- Don't be a knucklehead.
How hard do you think it is|to sell one drug dealer's drugs
to another drug dealer?
If Vig is right,|we're looking at 100, 150.
You think it's a good idea?|We never done this shit before.
Well, what is he gonna do,|file a missing drug report?
Hey if it works out, we could turn the guy|over a few times.
I hope so, bro'. I took my daughter|to the orthodontist, yesterday.
150 bucks to tighten|those bitches up.
Took him five minutes.|Then he said it wasn't even covered.
It's cosmetic.|The plan doesn't cover cosmetic.
I had a cap put in here, right?
My fucking dentist tells me,|"You're not covered for that. "
Bullshit cosmetics!
I got a freaking tooth|split in half here, all right?
Write that shit in|as a cavity or something.
- Did he?|- Yeah, he did.
Fucking department|got the bullshit dental plan.
That's our man, right there.|Red bag, right?
- Is that the guy?|- Let's go.
Hands up!|Hey, hey, whoa, whoa, whoa.
- What the fuck you got?|- Get on the ground.
So, how did you get caught?
Tommy Suits used to say|that in any con,
sooner or later somebody's gonna|start asking the right questions.
Usually, it takes a little longer.
Am I the only one who feels like we|can't make a move,
with this guy on us?|I think we should ditch him.
No, we need him and dummy up.|Here he comes.
Ah, here he is. Hey, hey.
How's the hoop, superstar? Clean?
What the fuck is it with you|and bathrooms, huh? Tell me.
Hey, he can't use a restroom|unless he knows it's clean.
- What's the matter with that?|- Manly, all right, wise guy?
That's cute.
You know this is|a major metropolitan city, brother.
Public sanitation|does not run very high
on the City Hall agenda.
You know what you can get|off a toilet seat or a doorknob?
You wanna run down the list?
Hepatitis.|You ever hear of that?
Influenza.|The fucking flesh-eating disease.
- I'm eating.|- Yeah, we noticed.
Do you need a shovel|down there, dear?
Gordo, Gordo.|That's enough, all right?
We gotta get down|to business, here. Miles!
We're gonna need you to find us|a mark inside of Price's bank.
Somebody we can work with.|Gordo, we're gonna need papers.
Corporate insurance,|a letter of intent, the whole nine.
- All fugazze?|- No, no, no
Corporate papers|have got to be legit.
We're all gonna need new IDs.|You gotta make sure they're clean.
Go talk to Suits,|and he'll hook you up.
- What about Customs?|- Don't worry about Customs,
I'll take care of that.
We're gonna need|some start-up cash, first.
Lupus, you think the King|would be willing to bank us?
You already owe him.
Lupus,|we need a banker for this.
We can't do this job|without a banker.
- Gordo, do we need a banker?|- I think so, yes.
- I think we need a banker.|- I don't know, man
- You could try.|- He's not gonna listen to me.
I bet if you talk to him,|loosen him up,
- maybe he'll listen to you.|- All right! I'll try, okay?
Don't do us any favors,|all right?
Jesus, join the team!
So, you guys are good?|You know what you need to do?
- Yeah.|- All right!
Lupus, Lily, we'll go over|to see the King, now.
- All right!|- Ready to roll?
Let's do it.
I'm not finished.
She's not finished.
What's wrong with you?|Where's your manners?
Nice!|You know why?
Because it's real.|You're licking each other.
- Feels good?|- Feels so good.
All right, that's it...|what? What, what?
Jake is here,
He wants you to stake him|a couple hundred grand.
No, he's supposed to be getting me|money, not costing me money.
He says we need it.|And I gotta say, boss,
- this guy's pretty sharp, you know?|- Look at me, look at me.
- You're getting a crush on him?|- What are you talking about?
Don't let him get into your head, 'cause|he's a charmer.
You tell him to wait a minute|and then you bring him in.
He's right behind you.
Get outta here.|Get outta here.
You're starting|to scare me, sport. Harlin!
200K?|Isn't that more than you owe me?
You're just gonna have|to trust me on this, all right?
Oh, no.|You're a day late on trust.
I think that what he's trying|to say is that he'Il...
Oh, oh, oh, oh.
You brought her for a reason,|didn't you, booster?
Let's listen to her.
No, why don't you listen up?
Even though I'm running|the show for you,
I'm still running the show.
So we're gonna put an end to
the scooter- junior-skippy-sport-|tiger-booster bullshit.
The name is Jake.
What do you say you get|the ADD under control?
You look me in the eye|when I'm talking to you.
- What's your name, honey?|- Her name is Lily.
Booster, have I ever|referred to you as honey?
Have I, scooter?
It's a common mistake that Jake|is making when he says ADD.
What he really means is ADHD,
for Attention Deficit|Hyperactivity Disorder, see?
The important word is the H,
Hyperactivity.|I don't understand,
why do you let her do that|if you care about her?
It's poison, see?
Feel my heart.
Go ahead. I bet it beats|twice as fast as yours.
- Go on feel it.|- I'm fine, thanks.
Oh, come on. Will you feel my heart?|I'm not gonna bite you.
God, you feel good.
Like a trip-hammer, right?
See? Much faster...
than yours.
Why am I enjoying this
so much, Jake?
Because
I feel like she is
too.
I'm sorry,|I know that was tasteless, dear.
I was just trying|to make a point to Jake, okay?
What do you say you get|your ADD under control,
and we get to the fucking point?
Ooh, I think Jake is referring|to my medication,
which I thought was confidential.
Jacob, come on, come on.
You know why I take that stuff.
Because if I don't, I become hyper,
or primitive, right?|Or impulsive.
You never know when|I'm going to lose it.
Now listen to me, okay?
Hey!
I'm not a violent man.
I like to think|I am above that, right?
You took my money|and now you're asking for more.
And I'm gonna give you... I'm gonna|give you what you're asking for,
- which is, how much? Tell me again.|- 200.
200, how much is that altogether?
Including what you took|from me the first time?
350.
Oh, that's very good,|you're smart, aren't you?
You told me you were smart.|You're a smart, smart, smart guy!
So be smarter, huh?
Don't get hurt.|Don't scare me.
You've got a good, healthy,|long life ahead of you.
I like you,|now say, "We're set. "
- "We're set. "|- Say it like you like me too.
Come on, you can do it.
Say, "we're set"|like you like me.
We're set.
Okay, now I want you|to take your lovely,
lovely lady home.
Oh my God,|you're beautiful.
Let's go.
Don't you ever, ever
let anyone stand behind me,|without me knowing.
You hear me?|You understand me?
So the King|gave you the money.
Now, we just needed|to find our guy in Price's bank.
What you're looking for|in a mark
is someone whose weaknesses|you can exploit.
Michelle Strigo, loan officer.
Guy like me,|people like that,
I tell you what you're looking for|without even meeting you.
You fucking asshole!|What the fuck is wrong with you?
You cocksucker!
It's like a personal ad|you wear over your head.
- She's not gonna work.|- You sure?
Jay Housler,|VP of international finance.
No.
Leon Ashby,|VP of corporate loans.
What you're looking for in a mark|is someone who has nothing to lose.
No friends. No family. No life.
You're looking for a guy|who doesn't own a rug.
Oh yeah, he's perfect.
- You sure?|- Hey, I'm sure.
Ashby was the right mark.
Now I needed to see if Lily was|the right shill, so I tested her.
One watch engraved,|"To Carolyn,
Happy Graduation Counselor,|Love, Mom and Dad. "
- Good.|- One bracelet engraved,
"To Annie,|Happy 25th Anniversary, Love, Tom. "
- Perfect!|- I'll be right back, Mr. Lewis.
Okay, thank you.
Excuse me, I think you have|something on hold for me.
- Do you have a ticket?|- I lost it but the name is Hanson.
- Okay|- Thanks a lot.
- Mr. Lewis, right?|- Yes?
- Jake Hanson. I go to Law School|with your daughter Carolyn.
- We met a couple of times, before.|- Oh, of course, Jake!
- It's good to see you again.|- Good to see you too.
You remember... Lily!
This beautiful woman is my wife.
Lily, this is Carolyn's father.
- Oh, nice to meet you.|- Pleasure, I'm sure.
So, what brings you down|from Stanford?
Taking advantage of|the long weekend?
- Yeah, we're...|- It's our first anniversary!
Congratulations!|That's great.
Carolyn is down|for the weekend too.
- Really?|- Mm-mm, yeah.
Maybe you can|do me a favor then.
We split the cost on a couple|of books, last semester,
and I never got an opportunity|to pay her back,
- I'll just write you a check.|- There's nothing for Hanson.
If we had a ticket,|I could check the computer.
But yesterday, my wallet
and my wife's purse were stolen,|and the ticket was in my wallet.
Maybe, you could check again.
Jesus, where did this happen?
We're staying at the Peninsula,
I think it might have been|the housekeeping staff.
But Jake has a little more faith|in humanity than I do.
He hates me saying it,|but I think it's true.
You have to be so careful|these days.
You sure do.
Honey,|I'm just gonna go
and pick out a wallet.|It was nice to meet you.
- Nice to meet you.|- There you are Mr. Lewis.
- Good.|- I'm sorry, sir, still nothing.
- May I ask what it was?|- It's a shame, it was
a pair of...|a pair of diamond earrings.
Actually,|it's just like those.
- We have those in stock.|- Oh great.
- Let me write you a check|- Only with the proper ID.
Yeah, I understand that but|like I just explained to you,
my wallet was...
this is sort of a very special day for my|wife and I,
it being our first anniversary.
She thinks we're here to pick up|something for my mother,
but I wanted to surprise her|with something special.
So if you think you can|make an exception today,
- just this one time.|- I'm sorry.
Thank you.
Please, tell Carolyn I said hello|and pass the note for her.
- I sure will.|- It was good to see you again.
Good to see you.
Look, Jake,
why don't you|write me a check,
and let me put the earrings|on my credit card?
Is that all right with you?
If you'd be willing to do that,|that would be great.
Good. Please.
- Mr. Lewis, thanks again.|- You bet, Jake.
Happy Anniversary.
All right? Now that's how|you pull a con.
So smile like you just got a present|from the man of your dreams.
Thank you!
You're welcome, now let's give it|a strong finish, all right?
He's gone.
- Oh yeah.|- I gotta go get a haircut.
Hey, how you doing?
Hey guys,|good to see you, man.
What's up, boss?
- Right here.|- That's good.
- What are you having?|- I'm gonna go light,
I'm gonna get the chicken|and rib combo.
That's light?
Yeah,|I'm not getting the coleslaw.
So, what's good here?
- Who the fuck are you?|- Special Agent Gunther Butan.
- Special agent?|- I'm looking for Jake Vig.
- Who?|- Who? The invisible man.
The specter,|the spook, the ghost.
But then the other day,|like a gift,
a buddy of his,|a crew member,
Alphonse Moorely...
you know Alphonse Moorely.|He wakes up with a hole in his head.
Look, Special Agent...|what's your name?
- Butan!|- I got a pretty good sense of humor
- like most people.|- Really, you've a sense of humor?
- Yeah, I do. So if this is|some kind of a fucking joke,
- I'm not into this shit!|- A joke?!
A couple of years ago,|I'm working undercover on a case
that Jake Vig is involved with.|He's running some sort of scam
importing merchandise|for some guy in Tampa.
And I got close,|real close, and he knew it.
In order to let me know,|and to rub it in,
he sent me this tie. Since then,|I've been following him,
from Chicago to Denver|to Salt Lake City,
to Phoenix and I've been|wearing this tie ever since,
because it keeps me motivated.
That's a real nice tie. I don't know if it|says, "Special Agent. "
You know what it says?|It says,
"You can't catch me,|so fuck you. So fuck you. "
- And fuck you!|- Hey!
Temper's a sign of weakness.|Temper's a sign of weakness.
Hey man, can we get you|a glass of water?
I'm working at this|temper management issue.
My doc says|I should stay calm,
because I might do|or say something
- that I might regret later.|- Look, Special Agent...
- sell one drug dealer's drugs|to another drug dealer?
Hey, hey,|can you put that away?
- Wow!|- Hey, hey, hey...
Let's take a walk.|Let's go for a walk.
Now here is the deal...
You guys are gonna help me catch|Jake Vig. Whatever he's into next,
you guys are gonna be into.|And whatever you're into, I'm into.
This fucking gun|is killing my back.
In exchange, I'm gonna make sure you|guys are cleared
of any past associations with Vig
as part of a|cross-departmental investigation,
and that home movie I got,|I'll make sure
that it doesn't move its way|into Internal Affairs.
Who knows? This prick|has been on the wish list so long,
you two guys,|might even get a promotion.
What the fuck|are you getting out of all this?
Peace of mind.
I might even get a chance|to get rid of this fucking tie!
Why are you looking at me|that way, Lloyd?
Not everybody is on the take.
If you Feds are so hot|for this guy,
why don't you just let us go out?|We'll bring him in, that's it.
A fox isn't a fox until|he's caught in the henhouse.
- Oh nice. What is that, an analogy?|- A metaphor.
Actually, it's neither|but it is a good deal.
You guys go clean,|I get peace of mind,
and better yet, Lloyd's daughter|gets to keep her braces,
and have that winning smile,|just like her daddy.
One more thing,
you guys can't be running around|with heroin in your car.
Let me tell you|something about Butan.
He's just as crooked|as the next guy.
You'd think he'd have something|better to do with taxpayer dollars.
Well, cue the fucking violins.
Come on, man,|it's getting cold out here.
It was all in play.|Everything!
And with a little luck,|we're about to land the mark.
- Where the hell is she?|- I have no idea.
- She's 10 minutes late.|- Luck's a funny thing.
- Especially the bad.|- She's nice.
Black cats, breaking a mirror,
breathe on a match.
- It's about time.|- Believe it.
Believe it all. But if you really want to talk|about bad luck,
redheads.
You have got to be|fucking kidding me.
Shit.
Top three all time worst redheads:
Lizzie Borden, axe murderer;
Judas, betrayer;
Shirley Vig,
abandoner.
Nice to see you too.
Do you have any idea|what you've done?
Any idea?
What is with the hair?
What?|You told me to change it.
But the fucking|grand poohbah of all jinxes,
a bird in your house.
A bird enters your house,|it means death.
What about this then? What's with the scarf|with the birds?
I mean, do you know what that means?|Do you know what that means?
You have just put|a mother of a jinx on us.
- Gordo, can you believe this?|- Oy vey.
We're dead.|We're dead.
Did I miss something, guys?
Sweetheart, it's the red hair.|It's bad luck.
It's not like she's|a real redhead, Jake.
Look, it doesn't|matter, all right?
You can't fool bad luck,|you can't get by on a technicality.
You can't trick karma.
You just fucked us.
So much for that|good feeling, huh?
That's what I get for putting|a chick on the team, right?
Gordo.|Burn that.
Lupus! Think fast.|Lily, hold on a second, will you?
Excuse me.|Is this seat taken?
- No. Please.|- Thanks.
Oh, excuse me, I'm sorry|I'm late, but I'm not that late.
You didn't have to|give away my seat.
I didn't know|you were coming.
- I didn't know. Sorry.|- No problem.
Thanks for playing along.|I had to sit down for awhile.
- Tough day?|- Brutal day.
- What are you drinking?|- Maker's Mark, on the rocks.
- His rocks, mine straight up.|- You got it.
My name is Leon,|Leon Ashby.
Oh, God. I'm so sorry.|I'm overbearing and rude.
Lily.|Lily Finn.
- So what do you do?|- It's more like, what don't I do?
It's a long story.
Well, we're getting drinks.|What happened?
My partners and I are trying|to secure start-up capital
for a small tech company.
We tried the venture|capitalist route,
but since the bubble|burst on dot coms...
You're a few years off the mark.|A lot of bubbles were burst.
Yeah.
Optimists that we are,|we thought we'd try our luck
with a straight corporate loan.
- There you go.|- Thank you.
- Oh, no, no, I can get this.|- On me. For the seat.
Chin-chin.
So we've been meeting|with banks all day.
It's amazing how many|ways they can say no
without ever actually|saying the word.
Typically, a corporate loan|is a fairly simple matter.
But you do have to demonstrate|a capacity for gross fund recovery.
Let me guess,
your bubble didn't burst.
No, no, nothing like that.|I work in a bank.
Really?
I wish we'd met eight hours ago.
Good evening, gentlemen.
Oh, my partners are here.
We have dinner plans.
Oh, well, uh...
- thank you for the drink.|- Oh, you're welcome.
I was just going to ask|if you'd like to join us.
- Sure.|- Okay.
So she got one leg out from|under him, now we had to lean.
So then Miles, God bless him,|he walks right into
the fucking Creative Director's office and|he says,
"I'm sorry this|program is for shit. "
No, no. And then he throws|like a thousand pages of code
- all over the fucking guy's office!|- This is our boss, all right?
So he kicks Miles and I out of the office,|he's screaming and yelling,
"You're fired. Your whole|fucking team is fired. "
Now he's looking for Lily,|he's looking for Lupus,
- and of course he can't find Gordo.|- That's the best part.
He cannot find Gordo, okay?|So what happens?
- He finally finds...|- Whoa, whoa, whoa...
- you don't have to tell this part.|- He's in the bathroom.
So he kicks down|the stall room door,
and starts screaming|at the top of his lungs.
And there's Gordo,
his pants around the ankles,
"PC World" mag in hand,|and he's punching the cloud.
I'm sorry.
Spanking.|Frankly, I was spanking.
And it was a fucking|traumatizing event,
because I haven't been able to use a public|restroom since that day.
Me neither.
I swear to God.
Gordo's got some issues.|He's got some issues.
And let's not forget,
the great thing that did come from that day|was we said, "Enough!"
That's the day we started our|own business and said goodbye
- to shithead bosses. So...|- Hear, hear.
I really admire you guys|taking a chance like that.
Leon here works at a bank.|What bank did you say it was?
Price Trust.
No shit, really?
Talk about shithead bosses.|Now that's gotta be a trip.
- What's he like to work for?|- Oh, you know. He's okay.
- Really?|- Oh, come on!
Well, he's a...
he's just a fucking shithead.|What can I tell you?
So what do you do|over there at Price?
I'm the VP in charge|of corporate loans.
Wow.
We haven't met anyone|of your level before.
VP.
Wait, so that means|it's you and then the P.
Give that man a Nobel Prize.|Well done.
- Genius.|- Yes, that's right.
Here's where a little|research comes in handy.
Corporate banks give out|VP titles like calendars.
It's a small lie, but now|we're sure he's playing.
Then maybe you can help|explain to us what's so difficult
- about getting a corporate loan?|- Well, normally, nothing.
But a tech firm right now?
People are really scared.
People are scared|because they lack vision.
Present company|excluded, of course.
A bank does need to know|where its money's gonna come from.
That is true.
We know where|we're getting our money back from.
But therein lies our Catch-22.
I don't follow.
- Well...|- Jake, come on.
No, it's all right.
Leon here is one|of the good guys.
Right?
Now what I'm gonna tell you is in|complete confidence.
It does not leave|this fucking table.
- Sure.|- Fine.
You know how the dot commers|did what they did, right?
In what way?
How they made their money.
Essentially, they start|with an idea,
shop it around town,|raise a little capital,
and then sold it|to a bigger company,
like a Microsoft or an Oracle or|an Intel. You know, whatever.
That's half right there.
The beauty of it was, they sold it before the|thing was even real.
So you've got the bigger company already|set up to buy the thing.
They just want to|see that it works.
So these guys go out, get some start-up|capital, make it work,
and then sell for five or|six times the initial loan.
They're delicious.
- But you need a letter of intent.|- Exactly.
And that's our Catch-22.
We can't really go out|and talk about it,
because if it's public,|potentially we start a bidding war,
and that's considered a breach of|etiquette. Kills the deal.
However, we wait too long, and we're not|considered hot anymore.
And you have this letter of intent?
Yes we do.
We're applying the dot com model|to a different product.
Yeah.
But the dot coms failed.
- Yeah, but that's only...|- No, with all due respect.
It...
That's going to be|a really tough sell.
I mean, you guys have|a real battle on your hands.
- That's bullshit.|- Lupus.
Look, sorry, Mr. Ashby.
I didn't mean anything.|But I just don't think
you can argue with the|success of the business model.
It was really an|overextension of the model
to what turned out to be|a limited consumer demand
that caused the|dot com collapse.
Now, applied to a proper product,|with a solid consumer base,
the model still holds up.
He may be right.
Let me be straight|with you, all right?
We're this close to cutting somebody in on|the action,
if they'd be willing to help.
We just need to find|somebody with some balls.
- Shall we order another round?|- Yeah.
Lupus, nice save in there.|I'm very impressed.
Poor bastard never|knew what hit him.
Jesus Christ, I almost|felt sorry for the guy.
I gotta go work off|some of this adrenaline.
I have an in on a card game with some|Hollywood studio dipshits.
- Anybody want a piece?|- I'm going home.
- I'll go. Jake?|- No, I'm good.
- Are you sure?|- Yeah.
Oh, Lupus, you should come.|You're gonna love these guys.
Bunch of fucking knobs.
Hey, Lupus.
When this is all over,
you'll let us know who|the King put on Big Al, right?
You gonna have time?
I'll find the time.
You want to go, don't you?
For a couple hundred bucks?|Not interested.
You'd do it for free.
You're almost drooling.|You like the rush.
It's not about the rush.|It's just a job. It's what I do.
Your mother not breast-feed|you or something?
You asking me if I got|something to prove?
- Do you?|- Not in that repressed anger way.
I get the feeling you could've bullshitted|your way into anything.
- Why this?|- I'm good at it.
Lying, cheating, manipulating.
It all came very naturally to me.
No, it's more than that.
The thrill of it? I mean, didn't you find it|exciting tonight?
The way you were|working that guy Ashby...
flirting, giving him|your sweet little smile,
brushing up against him,|occasionally touching him,
I have a feeling you were|getting off on that tonight.
All I did was smile|and shake my ass.
Yeah, but you|did it very well.
Soon enough you'll|have more to do
and I have a feeling you'll|be good at that too.
How do you know?
Intuition.
- She had you tempting fate.|- My old man and his buddies
from work used to play the same lotto|numbers every week.
I mean the same|numbers for 16 years.
One day he gets pissed, decides he's going|to play his own number.
They then hit the Lucky Seven|for 3.5 million without him.
That's fate for you.
I guess he passed on|that unlucky asshole gene.
Turn around.
You should have trusted me, Jake.
Yeah, apparently so.
Everything looks in order.
You know, Leon, we're going|to have to move quickly here.
I know.|It won't go unnoticed.
What's this?
Let's call that a convincer.
We're going to need|to slow down a bit.
You're worried about recouping the loan,|we got the letter of intent.
No, it's... I understand that.
What I'm trying to...
what I mean to say is...
what I'm wondering about is...
is my cut.
And there it is.|Ashby gets the itch.
- 2%.|- Of five million.
We're gonna make it back|three or four times over.
By the time anyone catches on,|the loan's already been repaid.
You didn't do anything wrong|except speed things up.
All you need to do for your cut, is put|some paperwork through,
push a button tomorrow.
Yeah, but there were|other factors.
Yeah, factors that weren't|clear to me until now.
What do you got?
We got jack shit.
I'm not a confrontational|man by nature,
but you guys are gonna have|to start working with me.
We haven't heard from Vig.|We don't know if he wants
to cut us in on this shit he's|got going down with the King.
Maybe you two guys need to be|a little more pro-active, Lloyd.
You gotta make him think you're gonna|keep me off his back.
And for that he's|gonna cut you in
on whatever he's got going|with King. You got that?
Omar, you got it?
Flight's booked to Belize.
Almost home.
Got to get you home to pack.|Get ready for your trip tomorrow.
Can you picture me with|a drink with the umbrella in it?
Little sunscreen on the nose.
- Hey, Jake!|- Back off! Back off!
- Whoa, whoa!|- Take it easy! Jesus!
What, the tip not|work out for you guys?
Tip worked out fine, we're just|a little curious about the Fed.
Hey look, you don't pay|your fucking taxes...
Get the fuck back!|Back up!
Special Agent Gunther Butan.|That ring a bell?
Gunther? No, I think I would remember a|Gunther.
- Let me jog your memory a little.|- Jesus! Fuck!
Gunther Butan, you say?
I think I might know this guy.
Yeah, well he's in town and|he sure as shit remembers you.
What are we gonna|do about this Jake?
We can't afford having|a Fed onto us like this.
I wouldn't dream of that.
Fuck, man!
The way we look at it,|Jake, you have
a limited window of opportunity here|before he catches up to you.
But I got good news|for you, okay? You got us.
We're your white knights. We're gonna|keep him off your back.
And we get a piece of whatever you got|going down with the King.
And don't argue with me 'cause|I got a lot of pent-up aggression.
Say something stupid|if we got a deal, Jake.
Something stupid.
Don't leave town, brother.
- Funny.|- Oh fuck.
Have a nice day, Officers.
How did we do?
We did exactly like you said.
I have complete|faith in you, Lloyd.
Why's this guy|so hard up for you?
You're not exactly a threat|to national security.
We go way back.
A few years ago we were|working in Tampa for a local goon.
Turns out this mutt was|being watched by the Feds,
which now meant we were|being watched by the Feds...
one in particular...|Agent Gunther Butan.
We were just overseeing|some creative importing,
so he really didn't|have anything on us.
But I figured, maybe this|guy's good for a fix.
Our guys in the LAPD,|give them $20,
they'll look the other way|on a parking ticket.
Maybe you'll get yourself|a new tie with that.
But a Fed? You get a guy|like that as your fix...
It was probably a stupid idea.|There I was Armani and Rolex.
There he is,|JC Penny and Timex.
So I took a shot.
Now he had me on attempted|bribery of a Federal Agent.
So that's how Gunter Butan|and I became friends.
- Butan... shit.|- Here.
So what? We just|stay clear of him.
I don't think so.|I think we gotta walk.
Wait a minute. We can|handle this. Come on.
No. Not this time.
I say we walk.
Wait. Take it easy|for a second.
I'm not gonna take it easy.|'Cause you don't know this guy.
He's gonna be all over|us like white on rice.
There's no shaking him|and you know it.
So we change|the scam a little.
There is no more|fucking scam.
I got a sign|on my back now.
I can't leave town and then show up with a|suitcase full of money.
- It's over. The gig is up.|- Jake, Jake.
The skirt's got a point. All you have to do is|tweak it a bit.
It over. That's it. You gotta|know when to walk away.
And you guys are too careless with the|money. Gordo with the cars.
- You with the strippers.|- They call themselves dancers.
They call themselves dancers, huh? What|about Big Al?
Did that not fucking|register with you?
Remember seeing him sitting there with a|bullet hole in his head?
That doesn't mean anything?
You're being such a raving pussy.
I mean, pull yourself together,|for Christ's sake.
Who the fuck do you|think you're talking to?
Sweetheart, we fucked|once, okay?
That does not entitle you|a voice in this room.
And don't think I didn't know you weren't|working some angle, either.
Easy, Jake.|That's a lady.
Everyone's working|an angle, right?
There are three people|I trust in this world,
those two guys on|the couch and a dead guy.
You, I don't know you.|You're like a stray dog
that wandered into my house|one day looking for a belly rub.
So why don't you just go back to wherever it|is you came from?
You don't have anybody|looking for you.
Not the King,|not Butan, not Price.
So just cut loose of this.|It is over.
- What about...|- What about what?
What about the money?
There it is. That little|itch you need to scratch.
Always about the money.
What do you want?|You want an apology?
No.|I want my cut.
Take a deep breath,|count to 10,
and try and get it through|your thick skull, there is no cut.
You're an asshole.
So that's it, huh?
That's it.|We're closing up shop.
You guys know|what to do, right?
Jesus Christ, Jake, I can't|believe you're gonna just...
Miles.
So much for honor|among thieves.
You were going to cut loose your friends,|your girl...
What the fuck|are you talking about?
I was doing it for them.|I was trying to protect them.
Bullshit. You weren't doing it|for them. You were scared.
Come on, admit it. You lost your nerve and|you lost your confidence.
You weren't trying|to be noble.
You weren't trying to save anyone but your|goddamn self. Admit it.
You got no idea what|you're talking about.
- It's not true.|- It is fucking true.
They were right there for you!|She was right there for you.
Look at her.|I fucking said look at her!
She trusted you,|and you sold her out.
Now I want you to look at her,
and I want you to tell her.
Be a fucking man.|You be honest.
You tell her.
You tell her that you loved her,
but the fucking money|meant more to you.
Fucking grifters, man.
Gentleman's racket,|my fucking ass.
Just another low-life scammer looking out|for number one.
Get the fuck up!
Get the fuck up!
The King ain't gonna like this.
He had a real thing with|getting this Price guy.
If you ask me,|I think he's jealous.
- Of what? They're both crooks.|- They actually grew up
in the same neighborhood.|King talks about it all the time.
How come he's always|humping it out,
while Price gets to walk|around in three-piece suits,
hobnob with movie stars,|own a bank, that type of shit.
Next to Price, the King is still small time|and he's pissed off.
A point, Lupus.|Give us a point.
I don't give a shit if he thinks he's a pimple|on Price's ass.
He wouldn't piss on my face|if my teeth were on fire.
That's nice.|Interesting imagery.
Look at that.|The size of a cigar, right?
You know why I got that? The King asked|me for a four-shot one day.
That's four-shots of espressos.
Turns out we only have|enough coffee for a three-shot.
So I'm thinking, maybe|I'm doing him a favor.
And before he even|comes picks it up,
he's screaming at me like|I just hit on his mother!
I assume this is going to|lead to some kind of point.
This is what I get for bringing|him the wrong fucking cup of coffee,
imagine what he's|going to do to you.
I have to admit,|he did have a point.
There was no way the King|was going to let us slide.
Yeah, so we were back on.
After you cut her loose?
Which was apparently|my mistake.
How'd you know we'd|still go through with it?
I know you, Jake.
And I know how to|take care of myself.
Morgan Price, please.
Yeah, I'd be interested in that.
Why don't you give me an address
and I'll send over a car?
And you and I can discuss|the particulars of your proposal.
No.
I come to you and|I only deal with you.
It was a smart play.
She handed me to you|on a silver platter.
Silver platter? Motherfucker,|let me tell you a story.
That's an exciting story.|Travis,
anybody ever try|something like this before?
Not that I can recall.
And how much did you say you|wanted for this finder's fee?
10%.
I studied under a Nobel Laureate|of Economics at Cambridge
and I think even she'd|say 10 was high.
I don't give a fuck if you studied at Marice's|Academy of Wig Design.
You're lucky I'm even here.
- 10 is standard.|- Okay.
Travis, see if you can get him|to tell you how he did it.
Or almost did it.
Sounds like a good story.
Oh, I'll get it.
Come on,|what happened today?
Today?|Today started off great.
Ashby was going to call us|with the exact time of the transfer.
The King was waiting on us.
Just to be safe, Gordo was|boarding the plane instead of me.
I needed Manzano and Whitworth|to keep Butan off our backs.
So I had to stay in town|and cut them in on the deal.
So they waited for my call|while Miles and I waited for Ashby.
She should be landing|right about now.
That Customs guy is ready, right?
I feel lucky today, Miles.|Real lucky.
Found a penny,|heads up.
And I got rid of the redhead.
Yeah. We got rid|of the redhead.
Jake?
Customs?
They say a good chess player|can see up to 20 moves deep.
That means in some games you've|calculated every move in your head.
The game's over,|even before it's really started.
Like a game of chess,|same with a con.
You have to see that deep.
- Yeah?|- Ashby,
- It's Vig.|- Jake, yeah.
It's going through...
right... now.
Good.
And with the push of a button,|all the pieces were in play.
Gordo?|It's all good. Do it.
First and goal.
Hi there.
I'd like this cashed, please.
Mr. Ashby?
Mr. Thompson from international calling. He|has a 34-R
on a corporate|account in Belize.
That's probably just a new|account marker, I'II...
To ensure we weren't|going to welch,
Ashby's cut was transferred|into his own offshore account.
Tell you what.|I am going to lunch.
You tell him I'll|call him back later.
We called them|the Green Twinkies.
We got Twinkies.
Gordo, that's outstanding.|Good work.
Lupus,|we got the money.
I don't believe this.
Gordo's flying back|with it now.
So we'll head on over to the bar, meet up|with everybody there.
I sent Miles to the airport|to wait for Gordo to land.
Everything was going|as planned.
Gordo?
Gordo, do me a favor. Just use the|bathroom on the plane, all right?
Gordo?|Gordo!
Guy's walking around with|$5 million cash
and he's going to stop to use|a public bathroom at the airport?
Un-fucking-believable.
That guy's got|a serious problem.
You're telling me.
Here's where I got stupid, here's|where I got that big fucking itch.
What?|I got something on me?
I'm going to be straight|with you, Lupus.
I don't think we could've|gotten this far without you.
So I got a little|proposition for you.
A way for us to clear|the whole five million.
Now think about that,|five million split four ways.
You want in?
- What do I have to do?|- All right.
Yeah, it's Vig.
I'm gonna need an escort.|Not a ride, just an escort.
Ontario Airport.|Look for Gordo.
He's going to be carrying|a black Nike duffel bag.
- You guys take care of Butan?|- Don't worry. We got him covered.
All right, good.
That was him. There's a shipment coming|in this afternoon.
Ontario Airport.
We're going to give Mr. Jake Vig the|surprise of a lifetime.
- FBI Agent Rosen speaking.|- Artie. Butan.
Yeah. Ontario Airport this afternoon. Come|heavy.
All we need you to do is call|the King. Tell him it's all good.
Get the King off of our backs.
Yeah, boss, it's me, Lupus.
You were right.|He's trying to fuck you.
- What?|- Vig's trying to fuck you.
Police escorts are going|to pick up the money.
I knew it, I knew it... I should|have listened to my instinct.
Shit! How do we get|the money now?
You gonna have to|take it in the airport.
The guy he's got a black|Nike duffel bag on wheels.
He's got this thing|with bathrooms.
If he makes it through Customs he'll be|heading for the john.
That's good. We'll get him|with his pants down.
You'll take care of scooter|once we get the money.
Maybe Gordo's got it right.
Maybe we're all just looking|for a safe place to shit.
That's cute.
Very cute.
What about all that|bullshit at the bar?
About your three-shot,|four-shot espresso sob story?
Showing me your little boo-boo. What was|all that fucking shit?
That? I got that|at a barbecue, grilling halibut.
- You trust this Butan guy?|- I don't trust anybody.
I'm so sick of listening|to this douche bag's shit.
I swear to fucking God.
If my kid's teeth|weren't so fucked up,
I'd love to walk up to that dude and take|that gay hat of his
and shove it right up|his ass on principle.
You see how bad|this guy wants Vig?
It's like a sickness.
I say we collar him ourselves.|That way we got Vig,
we got leverage and we trade.
Vig for the tape.
This is Butan.|You guys awake?
Yeah, we're here.
Okay, stay sharp.
- Be right back.|- Is this it?
This it, Harlin?
Motherfucking no brains,|this one has.
So Lupus.|What do you do now?
You go back to fetching|coffee for the King?
Don't worry about me.|Stop trying to fuck with my head.
Okay, I got him.
He's heading towards|the east exit.
Do not under any|circumstances apprehend.
I want you to follow him|all the way down to Vig's.
- Roger that.|- We got that jerkoff. Let's go.
Keep your pants on.|He just went into the crapper.
Let's say Gordo doesn't|make it through Customs.
You're gonna be just|as fucked as we are.
- You think about that?|- Not for nothing, Jake,
but the guy who|whacked your buddy?
It was me.
The King usually farms out|for that kind of stuff,
but he was so pissed off at you he couldn't|wait for the regular guy.
The fucker didn't even put|down the kung pao chicken.
Oo-ooh, shit!
Come on.|Stand up.
- What?|- Stand the fuck up!
Jake, no offense,|but I've seen you fight.
You gotta be kidding me.
Okay, they pulled a switch.
Black man, brown suit. Big.
Hey, asshole.
Keep 'em up nice and high.
What the...
- Don't fucking move.|- Freeze!
- Freeze!|- Freeze!
Put your weapon down!
We're LAPD!
- Get down on your knees.|- We're fucking cops.
LAPD, man.|Look at this, come on.
- On the curb!|- Face forward! All the way down!
Hands on your head.
Hands outside where|we can see them.
Bring him out.|Nice and easy. Turn around.
Can I make a suggestion?
Take these cuffs home and use|them on your wife. You'll like it.
I like it tight, but not that tight.|How about you?
- Let's go.|- Oh.
Look what we got here.
Heroin. Two keys.
We're good.
He's good.|He's good.
- He who?|- You gotta like it.
Officers Manzano|and Whitworth,
Agent Artie Rosen,
Federal Bureau of Investigations.
How hard do you think it is to sell one|dealer's drugs to another?
Don't fucking say anything!
Yeah.
The King just got|pinched with the bag.
Okay.
What happened?
- He got caught.|- What?
Fucking King just|got us all pinched.
Oh shit! What do I do?|What the fuck...
Lupus, just|calm down. Lupus!
- I never thanked you for that.|- No problem.
Can we all stop being so fucking polite and|get to the point?
That's right,|where's the fucking money, Jake?
What do you get out of this?|A fucking finder's fee?
It's all about|the money, isn't it?
Fuck you.|You sold me out.
You sold me out huge.|You should have trusted me,
like I trusted you.|You fucked up. You fucked up huge.
All right, all right,|now you turn the fuck around.
The only way you're gonna live|is if you get me my fucking money!
Now where the fuck is it?
I'm gonna ask you one more time before|your brains hit the ground.
Where is my money?
Probably in the hands of|the Federal Government.
You know Jake, you...
you really fucking|disappoint me, Jake.
You just let Lily down|here again, too.
What was that you were saying|about playing the big con,
it's like putting on a big play, and everybody|knows their part?
I guess some people|forgot their fucking lines.
- Yeah, I guess so.|- You guess so?
So why don't you just take|a deep breath, Jake,
and I'm gonna count to 10.
One, two...
three, four, five...
- I do trust you, Lily.|- Six, seven...
Oh, shit! What the...
- Trust...|- Did you kill him?
Should be a four-letter word.
I don't know.
Don't do that shit while|I'm standing right here!
You get the fuck away from me.|Get the fuck out of here! Now!
So I'm dead.|But can I really blame Lily?
Should I just have trusted her?|Who knows?
Sooner or later, someone's gonna start|asking the right questions.
The Feds would want to know
why were they sent in to just|bust a couple of crooked cops.
Manzano and Whitworth|would ask
how the drugs got|into that duffel bag.
The King and Price would ask,|where their money really went.
And everyone would ask,|what agency was it that
Special Agent Gunther Butan|really worked for?
You need a ride?
Hey.
How'd it go?
Smooth.
The guys we have|in the LAPD,
give them $20 and they'll look the other way|on a parking ticket.
Maybe you'll get yourself|a new tie with that?
But a Fed, you get a guy|like that as your fix...
So what do you|got going next?
So that's how Gunther Butan|and I became friends.
Look at you. You're still|working that crazy tie routine.
I'm partial to it.
You take your cut?
Yeah, I'm good.
Well, where you off to next?
Wherever it is, don't stay|too long, you know?
- Stay loose.|- Always.
I'd keep the girl.
Sooner or later, all the right questions would|get answered.
- Because playing the big con...|- What's this?
Is like putting on a play.
A play where everyone knows|their part, except the mark.
Sometimes, Jake,|style can get you killed.
And like in a game of chess, you've played|every move in your head.
Yeah, boss.|It's me, Lupus.
You were right.|He's trying to fuck you.
You're a good grifter, man.|It's hard to tell when you're lying.
It's hard.
But what do I care?|I'm dead.
Nobody's gonna be|asking me.
I think you dropped|that, baby.
Miles, would you|be so kind?
Absolutely.
# The lights go out|and I can't be saved #
# Tides that I tried|to swim against #
# Have brought me down|upon my knees #
# Oh I beg, I beg|and plead, singing #
# Come out of things unsaid #
# Shoot an apple|off my head, and a #
# Trouble that can't be named #
# A tiger's waiting to be tamed, singing #
# You #
# Are #
# You #
# Are #
# Confusion never stops #
# Closing walls|and ticking clocks #
# Gonna come back|and take you home #
# I could not stop that|you now know, singing #
# Come out upon my seas #
# Cursed missed opportunities #
# Am I a part of the cure? #
# Or am I part of the disease?|Singing #
# You #
# Are #
# You #
# Are #
# You #
# Are #
# You #
# Are #
# You #
# Are #
# You #
# Are #
# And nothing else compares #
# Oh, nothing else compares #
# And nothing else compares #
# You #
# Are #
# You #
# Are #
# Home, home #
# Where I wanted to go #
# Home, home #
# Where I wanted to go #
# Home, home #
# Where I wanted to go #
# Home, home #
# Where I wanted to go. #