Inside the Bank Job Page #2

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Imagine if half the villains in

in London knew about this, he said.

And I thought, I know half

the villains in London.

I grew up with some of them.

Look, me and my mates have been

involved in the odd bit of

skullduggery (criminal acts).

Can you see us tooled up,

taking on a bank like

the (Jesse) James gang?

This isn't about waving a

waterpistol at a cashier's head.

This is about getting into the basement

where the deposit boxes are.

Hidden, secret wealth.

Money and jewels, they're safe to steal,

- 'cause people won't report it.

- Oh, no no no.

You can't talk about this here.

It's a once-in-a-lifetime

opportunity, Terry.

We can't pass it up.

I didn't expect this

from you tonight, Martine.

What did you expect?

I'll have to think about it.

You better get off to your stag party.

Thanks for the drink.

Eddie tells me his brother invited you

to the wedding.

- Are you going?

- I'll see you there.

Can I get a Campari and Soda, no ice?

- Yes, sir.

Thank you.

Well, Tim sweety,

what do you think?

- Is he offering?

- Maybe.

Cheers, gorgeous.

- So you're coming in?

- I don't know, it's late.

Do you need to run home

like a good little boy?

I guess I've got time.

- What exactly do you do?

- Bit of this, bit of that.

How did you and Hakim meet?

I met Hakim in Los Angeles

last spring.

He was rasing money for a black

Montessori school

and writing his life's story.

And what an extraordinary

life it has been.

The book is called "From the Dead Level,

Malcolm X and Me."

I've read the manuscript.

Hakim is a poet.

The voice of the black soul.

A friend is throwing a thing next week

to celebrate the launch of

Brother Hakim's book,

and you are all invited.

Hakim, tell us more about your book.

It's about being born black

in America.

Can any of you imagine what it is like

to be born a black man in this world?

Can any of you white women

imagine what it would be like

to bring a black baby into this world?

Good evening, sir.

What, you freakhead? Why are we

even having this conversation?

We're not--

Here's your beer.

We are not bankrobbers.

Maybe that's why we

could get away with it.

It's a bit daunting, isn't it?

You know what scares me more?

Living and dying with

nothing to show for it.

You know how old Mozart was

when he composed his first minuet?

- No.

- Five. Five! A f***ing minuet!

And how would you know that fact, Terry?

Because it's tattooed on

that stripper's arse, Kevin.

What the f***'s it matter how I know?

It's a fact and you're

missing the point, Kev.

What I'm trying to say is,

we stop f***ing about and stop...

picking the sh*t from

under our fingernails.

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