The Ringer Page #2

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- I don't want anything. I want to help you.

- I don't have any pot.

I don't want pot! I've got good news for you.

- You have money problems, right?

- Right.

Well, so do I. But it's all going to be over.

- Wanna know how?

- How?

We are gonna fix the Special Olympics.

Special Olympics.

We're gonna rig it. You and me.

You wanna fix the Special Olympics?

- Know what? I'm gonna get you a coffee.

- I'm not that drunk.

There's this kid - Jimmy. Wins all the time,

no one can beat him, right? Wrong. You can.

- What are you talking about?

- You were state champion at track in school.

- Division D champion.

- Whatever. You were a great athlete.

You were the best in drama class every year.

I was so proud of you. I kept a scrapbook.

- No, you didn't.

- In my heart I did.

You were a great actor, the best. You could

imitate anybody. Your Diana Ross - a riot.

We thought you'd end up

in Hollywood banging starlets.

That dream didn't work out too good.

Sit. Listen to your uncle. The preliminaries

are being held here in three days.

All you have to do is act like one of them,

not exactly a major stretch for you.

We get you in, you get into the nationals,

I bet 100 on you, we clean up,

your friend gets his fingers back.

Who's gonna take that bet? Vegas?

I know someone who will.

- No, I can't.

- Come on.

A normal guy against a bunch of feebs? You'll

look like Carl freakin' Lewis out there.

I am not fixing the Special Olympics.

It's wrong.

- Hello.

- I'll tell you what's wrong.

Your friend won't have health benefits,

that's what's wrong.

- Look, I wanna help, but...

- But what?

The guy's wife is dead. Think a guy

with no fingers will find another woman?

Even worse - when he comes home,

he won't be able to jerk off properly

because you robbed him of his dignity.

Look, get it through your head.

I am not fixing the Special Olympics!

Hi, guys.

- Hi.

- Hello.

- How are you feeling?

- Not too bad, Mr Stevie.

Were you able to straighten out

the insurance glitch?

Yeah, it's coming along really good.

It's OK if we don't get insurance.

Stavi don't need all his fingers.

No. You need 'em, Stavi.

No, no, it's OK. I look on my bright side.

With not so many fingers, when I'm

gardening, I don't crush the flowers.

I can pick them easy.

God always have a plan.

Look, I promise you,

I'm going to get your fingers back for you.

You're a good man, Mr Stevie.

Stavi Three? Not a hugger.

Children, give Mr Stevie a Stavi goodbye.

Bye, Stavi.

Poor Stavi. He trusted you, believed in you.

He literally gave you his hand in friendship.

Did you know that man's dream

was to play the flamenco guitar?

I'll rig the Special Olympics.

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