HCHotel clerk
Room 203. Very nice room, very nice. It's got air conditioning. You can smell the ocean.
There's a view?
HCHotel clerk
No, there's a smell. At low tide.
All S1
S1 E15Unfinished Business
OHOscar Hunt
Look, I'm just gonna cut to the chase here, gorgeous: Am I getting laid here, or what?
Uh, "what".
OHOscar Hunt
Cool. Thanks for the beer.
HZHoward Zimmerman
Let me ask you something. Do you know about science?
Do I know about...?
HZHoward Zimmerman
About science. Well, science has this thing - it's been proven - they call it "quantum"... something. It talks about how we're all just particles... we're floating out there... we're moving through space. Nobody knows where we are. And then every once in awhile... "BANG!" We collide. And suddenly for maybe a minute, we're real. And then we float off again. As if we don't even exist. I used to think it meant something. These collisions, the people we found.
And now?
HZHoward Zimmerman
Don't let the door hit you on the way out.
VVivian Lord
[about Thaddeus] He was right. I am a bad person. But he wasn't that good, either.
Buck, if I wanted an opinion from an asshole, I'd ask my own. Got it?
WLWinnie Lopez
We've been tryin', me and Jerry, for months now. Like those old roadrunner cartoons with the wolf and the sheepdog, how you punch a clock to go to work. It's mostly missionary, if I'm being honest. We used to spice it up, but now it's about the shortest distance between two points. He'd pop faster from the back, if I'm being honest, but I think it's important to look each other in the eyes when it comes to making babies.
In the favelas of Brazil, there are six-year-olds with Glocks. They roam in packs, stealing whatever they can find. Mexican lowlifes stream into this country like wolves, eyeing our women and children. In the Congo, a family of six live on ten cents a day. You turn on the TV, what do you see? Boat people. Mass migration. You're living in the age of the refugee, my friend.
Look, if you won't take back your money, well, I can't make ya!
You see it, don't you? Millions of people bought houses they couldn't afford, and now they're living on the streets. Eighty-five percent of the world's wealth is controlled by one percent of the population. What do you think is going to happen when those people wake up and realize you've got all their money?
Hey, I just charge for parkin'!
You think they're going to ask questions when they come with their pitchforks and their torches? You live in a mansion. You drive a $90,000 car.
It's a lease, through the company!
Look at me. Look at me. This a $200 suit. I'm wearing a second-hand tie. I fly coach. Not because I can't afford first - because I'm smart. So look at you, and look at me, and tell me who's the richer?
Well, I-I feel like this a trick question.
There's an accounting coming, Mr. Stussy. And you know I'm right. Mongol hordes descending, and what are you doing to insulate yourself and your family? You think you're rich? You've no idea what rich means. Rich is a fleet of private planes filled with decoys to mask your scent. It's a bunker in Wyoming and another in Gstaad. So that's action item one: the accumulation of wealth. And I mean wealth, not money.
What's action item number two?
To use that wealth to become invisible.
You have made me the happiest woman ever. Now let's make a sex tape.
[A shocked Sy Feltz discovers that V.M. Varga has taken over his office]
What the goddamn hell--!
[holding up a framed photo of Sy's wife] You have a fat wife.
Excuse me?
Which part of what I just said is giving you trouble?
This is my office!
A fat woman is inherently untrustworthy as she is a sensualist; she sees no real difference between a pastrami sandwich and a dick in the mouth.
[Varga sees the "World's Greatest Dad" mug on Sy's desk, then stands up and unzips his pants]
What are you doing?
[in a low shot obscured by the mug, Varga takes his genitals out, then proceeds to place them in the cup, twisting it around occasionally, as a shocked Sy looks on]
Do you know what a chicken is?
What?
A chicken. Do you know what a chicken is? A chicken is an egg's way of making another egg.
[after a few moments, Varga takes his genitals out of the cup, puts the cup back on the desk, and zips his pants back up]
You see, it's all a matter of perspective. The chicken sees it one way, the egg another. So let's start again: this is not your office, just as your wife would not be your wife if I came to her in the night with a platter of cold cuts.
[after a moment, Varga looks at Yuri, and nods]
YGYuri Gurka
[patting Sy on the back and leading him to a chair] Oh, sit down, my friend. You have shock. All is well.
I'm not--I just--I need a minute to--
YGYuri Gurka
No problem, no problem.
Have a drink, you'll feel better.
[the sound of water being poured is heard; Yuri then presents Sy with water poured into the same cup Varga had placed his genitals in]
[shocked] Are you out of your mind?!
[Yuri looks at Meemo, who looks around to see if anyone is watching]
YGYuri Gurka
Nice drink. Refreshing.
...are you threatening me?
[Meemo produces a gun, and chambers a round, as Yuri holds the cup to a struggling Sy's mouth, forcing him to take a sip, which he immediately recoils from]
YGYuri Gurka
No, no no no. The whole thing.
[Yuri forces Sy to drink the whole cup, who nearly vomits as he does so]
We're in trouble here. Enemies are at the gates - inside the gates! Fornicating with our cookware!
I'm sorry. Who are you?
YYuri
[says something in Russian]
What?
MMeemo
He said, "Pretty girls should only open their mouths when they see a dick."
Well, just so I'm clear, which one of you is the dick?
The First World War was started by a sandwich. On June 28th, 1914, Gavrilo Princip, one of seven conspirators, failed to blow up the Archduke of Austria with a hand grenade. Demoralized, Gavrilo stopped for lunch at Schiller's delicatessen on Franz Joseph Street in Sarajevo. But as he was eating, the Archduke's driver, lost, pulled up outside the restaurant and stopped. Fate had delivered Gavrilo's target to him, and he would not miss twice.
You're talking about doubling the size of the company in six months!
Three months.
It's a lot of debt! Just to line our pockets? Shouldn't we... I'm just sayin'... the more cautious approach. Why not?
Because the shallow end of the pool is where the turds float. Emmit?
No one ever got anywhere stayin' home, Sy.
And what does that mean?
It means we're either doin' this, or we're not doin' this. Whether you step off the board with one foot or two, you still end up in the water.
Okay. But what about the IRS? You said yourself, he's sittin' in a conference room, right now, goin' over the books!
Some books. Not the books.
What the heck does that mean?
Let's just say, for testimonial purposes, it's better that you don't know.
You think the IRS won't - this is what they do! Tax cheats!
Middle managers and movie stars. People who park their money in a Denver Wells Fargo under their mother-in-law's maiden name. But I assure you, the IRS could not unravel an intricate web of shell companies and loan-outs with secret accounts in Monaco, Luxembourg, and the Cook Islands if you gave them the account numbers.
What?
I'm beginning to think that finance is more of a hobby with you.
You win. I'm done. Whatever you want, just tell me. [Ray gapes at him in shock.] I co-signed the mortgage, you think I don't have a key?
Came for my money.
The dalmatian at the bank. You poured her in the trash, the dog. I got her for Grace when she was seven.
Laverne.
She didn't live that long. Car got her, but we'd grown attached.
I was looking for my stamp.
You know, I was thinking about it on the way over. I can't think of a single person doesn't like me, except you.
That's what they say to your face.
No, Ray! I'm a fair man! I treat people honestly, help 'em when they're down!
Them you help!
When did I not help you, kid? Everything you asked! Co-signing the mortgage, repairs for the car!
I'm not less than you. Some child that needs–
Ray, come on. We've done this already. Been doing it for twenty years. Enough. [Pause. Emmit stands up, picking up a picture frame by his feet. He walks over to Ray and shows it to him, revealing the stamp inside. Ray takes it and looks at it.] It's finished, okay? Words said in anger, crimes committed, we've both done things. It's a certain madness, I think. Brotherhood. Buttons you push in me, that I push in you, grudges...but I don't want that anymore. So...I'm giving you the stamp.
[pause] Well, you're not giving it to me.
No, I am.
You can't give me what was mine from the start!
[sighs] Okay.
No, that's...take it. [He holds out the frame.]
It's yours.
I said take it!
I don't want it.
Take the damn stamp! [He pushes the frame into Emmit's chest.]
[shoves him back] Stop!
Take it! [He shoves him again.]
Stop!
[He pushes back, and the frame slams into Ray's face and shatters, dropping to the floor. Ray, dazed, finds a piece of glass in his neck and puts his fingers around it.]
Don't. Don't! [Ray pulls it out, he groans as blood sprays from his neck.] Jesus!
Emmit. E–emmit.
Ray...
[Emmit watches in horror as Ray drops to his knees, lays down, and bleeds to death.]
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