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Where is he, then? |
Listen, get the fuck out of here before you get hurt. Who the fuck do you think you are, waltzing in here, asking questions? |
How much. |
Five thousand. |
Hey. |
I got half. |
Makin' trouble for someone? |
Yeah. |
Which kind? |
The forever kind. |
Ever take a look at the women who work in pet stores? Wow. |
Good luck. |
Jesus, are you gay enough or what. |
Very attractive. Good idea. Now I <u>really</u> want to fuck you. |
... you can always tell the ones who'll do anal. |
Kinda makes you wonder why more people don't put a bullet through their fuckin' skulls, doesn't it. |
Looks like they just airbrushed the dick out of his mouth. |
Why don't they have TV shows about people whose daily lives you'd be interested in watching. Y'know. Like SKINNY LITTLE WEAKLING. Or BIG FAT GUY. SICK OLD MAN. FAMILY OF LOSERS. Wouldn't that be good? |
Two blacks and a Mexican in a car. Who's driving? |
I don't know. |
The L.A.P.D. |
Maybe she doesn't even know the English guy. |
Avery said she was tight with his daughter. |
That don't mean nothin'. |
She's nice lookin'. |
So what. |
I dunno. I just said she's nice lookin'. |
And I said so what. You think she's any happier? |
What d'you mean, any happier? |
Any happier than any other asshole in life. |
Straight rotation, no shit, call your shot. |
Lemme break. |
We coulda used the other twoandahalf grand. |
There's more than a measly few grand in this. |
There is? |
Something's on. |
What? |
I happen to know more about Mr. Whatever hisnameis than he thinks I know about him and his operation. |
You do? |
You bet. |
Like what. |
Like he'd never hire me for real. Not weektoweek. I don't have the credentials. He thinks I'm just a sociopath, someone he can turn to when he needs "plausible denial." |
Well, we blew it, didn't we? He ain't wrong. |
"He ain't wrong." Listen, I know this asshole who <u>did</u> just go to work for him. Fulltime. And this dickhead's parents just told me he took a road trip up the coast. <u>That's</u> the type of individual gets hired, someone who'll shoot his mouth off to his family while on the job. |
I don't get it. |
I don't know who that English guy is. Some kind of courier or something. Maybe a seller. Maybe a buyer. But Mr. <u>Avery</u> wanted him, those jigs wanted him and I betcha there's a briefcase somewhere. |
What's in it? |
Drugs? Cash? Both if we're lucky. |
How we gonna get that lucky? |
While they're all fucking each other over ... couple of parties like us could move right in. |
Yeah, that's right. |
I can never decide what I like better. Leaving home, or coming back. |
I would have preferred staying home, me. |
You're a reluctant traveller, then. |
You'll be looking forward to getting back, then. |
Yeah. Another little matter needs attending to soon as I return. |
No rest for the wicked. |
Been away a lot. |
Where else? |
Out on a oil rig. In the North Sea. Nine years. |
Nine years? Is that legal? |
Well, time off for good behavior, you know. I shouldn't have even been there it was these other blokes who shoulda gone in my place. I got lumbered with the job they were responsible for. I don't mind pulling me own cart, but not someone else's, know what I mean. |
But you stuck it out, anyway, all that time. |
I had to, didn't I. Nothing else for it. Then just when I'd finished my nine years my contract wallop, I had to bugger off to the States. |
Sounds like you need a rest. |
Could do, yeah. |
But first I gotta give these lads a talking to, these geezers what sent me up the river, in a manner of speaking. |
The ones whose burden you took upon your own shoulders. |
Yeah. |
Don't you work with Ian? |
Ian? |
I could swear I met you with Ian at the EMI offices in London. |
Sorry. Wasn't me. |
You sure? |
Unless I'm not who I think I am. |
That's too bad. Ian's got a good thing going over there. |
Yeah? |
Turned that place completely around. 180 degrees. |
No kidding. |
What I like about Ian, he believes in a chain of command, but not a chain of respect, you understand what I'm saying? |
Right. Chain of respect. That's good, that. |
Yeah. I really admire the guy. Well. Good to meet you. |
Yeah. Cheers, mate. |
Valentine had himself a party, I hear. |
My client has already given a statement regarding yesterday's events. |
A <u>statement</u>? I wouldn't mind getting a statement. You see, <u>my</u> client the United States Government would love to get a statement about a few of the deals going down with your client. |
Deals? My client is involved in any number of deals at any given moment. You'd have to be more specific. |
Your client have a deal in Long Beach? How about downtown? There's some folks there oh, wait, they're all dead. Any of this ring a bell? |
My client is an entrepreneur. I am his lawyer, not his business manager. |
So you wouldn't have any idea how your client continues to make so much fucking money. |
He's always been very forwardthinking. He invested wisely. |
Where is he now? |
He had urgent business in the north. |
There's one thing I don't understand. The thing I don't understand ... is every motherfucking thing you're saying. |
Look, mush, you're the guv'nor here, I can see that, I'm on your manor now, right. So there's no need to get out of your pram. I'm Johnnycomelately to all this. Whatever the bollocks between you and this slag Valentine, it's got nothing to do with me. I don't wanna know. |
Well, I'll tell you. I believe this Valentine screwed me out of a fair sum of money. |
I can well believe it. I'm sure he has done, son. He's about as straight as a dog's hind leg. |
But I can't be sure. I don't even know who he is. He's too insulated. Too many layers around him. |
Your guess is as good as mine, mate. I'm here on another matter entirely. |
Yeah, I guess you are. |
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