Harlem Nights Page #2

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I want to speak to him.

Gentlemen, enjoy the game.

- How's it going?

- Real good.

I'm getting complaints.

That's them suckers losing their money.

I'm Bennie 'Snake Eyes' Wilson.

I can call the dice before they roll.

Done it for 40 years.

I know, Snake Eyes,

but put on your glasses.

- I don't need no glasses.

- I know. Just do me a favour.

- Yes, there you go. You look good.

- I don't feel no different.

Well, let's try it.

- Enjoy the game, gentlemen.

- F*** you all, man.

It doesn't make sense, Bugs.

What's that, Tony?

What doesn't make sense?

Business isn't great, but the crowd

is the same the last two weeks,

yet we're not clearing

what we used to.

It makes sense.

Smalls is skimming off the top.

- He doesn't have the balls.

- Don't underestimate Tommy.

He's got huge balls,

big f***ing huge balls.

But he's stupid.

All told, he beat me

for five grand last month. Check.

Smalls wouldn't do that.

I hand-picked him myself.

You made a mistake with him.

A big mistake.

You hand-picked him?

I guess that makes you

kind of responsible.

- Tell me about Sugar Ray's.

- I figure he's pulling in 10, 15 a week.

- Does he run it alone?

- His son's with him. His name's Quick.

Checkmate.

Is that right?

I think we should have Mr Cantone

pay Mr Sugar Ray a visit.

Kind of feel him out.

We have to get rid of his establishment.

It's hurting my business.

- It's done. I'll call Cantone right now.

- Wait a minute.

About Tommy Smalls. You brought him

to me, so the money I lost is your fault.

Come here.

Put your hand on the edge.

Nobody steals from me.

The next time you bring somebody

crooked in, I'm going to f***ing kill you.

- Understand?

- Yes.

Let Joey take a look at it.

- Joey, is it broke?

- Yes, it's broke pretty good.

- How's your right hand? OK?

- It's OK.

Good. I want you to take care

of Smalls as soon as possible.

Take care of your bad hand first,

then take your good hand

and cut Tommy's throat

from here...

...to here.

700 at the bar,

1,300 at the crap tables.

- What did we do on the door?

- About 300.

- Vera hasn't brought the girl's money.

- Go tell Vera to bring her ass in here.

What is wrong with her, Sugar?

- What's with Tommy Smalls?

- I don't know. I put Romeo on him.

Nothing much, he had a few drinks,

dropped 200 at the crap table,

made a phone call and left.

- Don't worry.

- I'm not worried, just a little concerned.

Calhoune's number-one boy

drops by to snoop a little bit.

That makes me uncomfortable.

You guys keep your eyes out, OK?

Vera, you know we tally up at 4 o'clock.

What is your problem?

Kiss my ass. I have to watch

my girls until the last trick is gone.

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