Boiler Room

I read this article

a while back...

that said Microsoft employs more

millionaire secretaries...

than any other company

in the world.

They took stock options

over Christmas bonuses.

It was a good move.

I remember there was this photograph

of one of the groundskeepers...

next to his Ferrari.

Blew my mind.

You see sh*t like that,

and it just plants seeds...

makes you think it's possible,

even easy.

And then you turn on the TV,

and there's just more of it.

The $87 million dollar

lottery winner.

That kid actor that just made

20 million on his last movie.

That Internet stock that

shot through the roof.

You could've made millions on it

if you'd just got in early.

And that's exactly

what I wanted to do... get in.

I didn't want to be an innovator. I just

wanted to make the quick, easy buck.

I just wanted in.

Notorious B.I.G.

Said it best...

"Either you're slinging crack rock,

or you got a wicked jump shot. "

Nobody wants to work

for it anymore.

There's no honor in taking

that after-school job at Mickey D's.

Honor's in the dollar, kid.

So I went the white-boy way

of slinging crack rock.

I became a stockbroker.

- Get off!

- Two hundred!

Put your money back down!

Yo! Put your money back down!

So I got in at this firm,

J. T. Marlin...

owned by

this guy Michael Brantley...

a salesman among salesmen.

Mr. Brantley!

- Mr. Brantley! Welcome! How are you?

- How you gonna handle these guys?

- They're great.

- You think you can handle this or what?

- I think so. We can handle it.

- You can handle it?

A double scotch on the rocks.

Holy sh*t, yo.

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo!

That's the jockey from Venezuela.

He's a sicko. He weighs like 48 pounds.

Whatever. Give me three-to-one

on that skinny little n*gger.

Richie, Richie.

Do me a favor, will you?

Just for, like, ten minutes.

Just give it a rest.

Yo, homes, I need some "chocaine."

I need some motherfuckin' nose candy.

I need some cizzi up my nizzi...

'cause I need to get high

like a motherf***er.

Know what I'm sayin'?

So give me some of that nose candy.

Bring that table over here.

Everybody quiet down for a second.

All right. Hold on.

Thanks. I wanted to let you know those

pikers at the N.A.S.D. Are off our ass.

- F***in' retard.

- F*** you. I'm on vacation.

Bear Stearns can call the S.E.C.

They can't find any dirt on us.

J.T. Marlin, once again,

has unlimited trading authorization.

I told you guys.

You can't keep a good man down!

We're superstars now.

J.P. Morgan just faxed over

their congratulations...

and said,

"Welcome to the club."

This also means those teams

headed by Todd and Richie...

who were good enough

to give up their rep numbers...

They can stop cold calling

and start trading again.

Welcome back!

And just to show you

how appreciative I am...

there's a little something extra.

Tell me about it, baby, tell me!

I want you guys

to go up to suite 418.

I handpicked them myself.

We're players now, boys!

Let's celebrate. Salute!

Don't touch the cards.

Don't touch the cards.

- Fourteen.

- Hit me.

Come on, Mike. I told you you

gotta hit the table. Sixteen.

Hit me.

And bust.

Sorry about that.

F***! Can't

win a f***in' hand tonight!

Hey, Steve?

Come here for a second.

You thirsty?

I don't care.

Go take my car and get Mike a Coke

and a falafel. You hungry?

Yeah. Yeah.

Sure. Why not?

- And dealer busts.

- Yeah!

What the f*** are

you so happy about?

Whoa, take it easy.

Roller coaster.

Ups and downs. You know that.

All right. Place your bets.

I was living in Kew Gardens Hills,

running my biz...

giving the Queens College kids

something to do between classes.

- See you guys.

- F*** you.

- Okay. I'll see you tomorrow.

- I was doing well.

It's strange to think how

that knock changed everything.

Everything.

Hey, don't get me wrong here.

No, no. I got it.

I don't believe in fate.

I believe in odds.

- He's not gonna let you in.

- Why not?

'Cause he doesn't know who you are.

He'll think you're a cop.

So what? I got a bankroll

that'll choke a hippo. Let's just see.

- Who are you?

- What's up?

- It's my boy, Greg. Oh, sh*t!

- What are you doin'? Come in.

What's goin' on? Come here, crazy.

What are you doin'?

How're you doin'?

Come in. Come in.

Oh, sh*t. Wait.

Is that your new ride?

- Him.

- Nice.

- Hi. Seth.

- Hey. Greg.

Nice to meet you.

- We thought we were done for the night.

- Too late to get a couple hands in?

No, no, no. 24-7.

Hey, Steve, could you get us

a couple of sandwiches?

- All right. Give me 400.

- Wait. What about the betting?

- What were you thinking?

- Five hundred, max?

We don't usually

service that level of action...

but I hate

to turn away a new customer.

We might not have enough cash

to settle you at the end of the night.

That's okay.

You can just pay me tomorrow.

All right.

How much you want?

- Five dimes.

- Jeff.

You had to do it, didn't you?

You make me look

like I'm at the kiddie table.

- If the shoe fits, kid. Come on.

- F***in' rich man.

- What denomination?

- What denomination?

How about three Puerto Ricans,

two Chinks and a Guinea?

I don't care. Mix it up.

Whatever you want.

What about a Swahili? Jesus.

I don't know what that is either.

You're starting to upset me.

You got your own chips, huh,

with your name on them?

This is no joke.

We used to use the

Bicycle poker chips...

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