Larceny, Inc.

Synopsis: Three bumbling crooks buy a store so that they can rob the bank next door. When they soon discover the money they can make as legitimate businessmen, they abandon their plan. Trouble is, one of their cohorts, who's escaped from jail, won't let them.
Genre: Comedy, Crime
Director(s): Lloyd Bacon
Production: Warner Bros.
 
IMDB:
7.4
APPROVED
Year:
1942
95 min
166 Views


Strike two.

Nice going, Jug,

you got him on the hook.

MAN:
Look at that old skylark.

Come on with that old pep.

Come here, you.

I gave you the signal.

Now I want you to throw a fast one.

Let me throw my sinkeroo, will you?

Oh, madness, my boy, madness.

This character's a pushover for a fast one

on the inside.

- But I just threw that one.

- Nothing succeeds like success.

We won two pennants in a row.

We're gonna win another one

if you do as I tell you.

I always do what you tell me...

...but this time I got an inner feeling.

UMPIRE:
Batter up.

It's all right, we're deliberating.

- I've always steered you right, haven't I?

- Yeah.

- Look where we are.

- We're on the threshold of big things.

All right, you guys...

...give you just one minute to resume play

or you forfeit the game.

Seeing as you won't let me

throw my sinkeroo...

...how about a curve fast on the outside?

- We haven't got time for a public forum.

- Lf the curve makes you happy, throw it.

- Oh, now you're talking.

I hope you gentlemen have decided

what to throw to me.

What's the difference?

You couldn't hit a medicine ball...

...in a revolving door.

All right, Jug, old boy, bend it in.

Hey, where do you think you're going?

After the ball.

[MEN LAUGHING]

It slipped.

- You...

- My finger slipped.

- We're sure gonna miss you, Pressure.

- Can't you stick around for Elmira?

Much as I like baseball,

this place gives me claustrophobia.

Come on, Rusty, you're on deck.

Pressure, listen to me. For the last time,

my finger slipped. Will you...?

Hello.

Oh, hello, Leo.

- Been thinking over what I told you?

- Yeah, not for me.

- Crashing banks ain't my line.

- You're a sucker...

lx-nay, opper-cay, opper-cay,

opper-cay.

Where you gonna find 100 G's

all in one lump?

Oh, on any bank corner in New York.

Providing you wanna wind up back here

in a striped suit.

No, it's too tough, Leo.

- This bank is made out of cheesecake.

- Yeah.

The whole layout.

We could carve through

with a butter knife.

Sounds great to me.

I'm telling you because

I'm figuring on paroling out of here soon.

I could use a smart guy like you.

No, no soap, Leo.

I got my future all mapped out.

It's an office with my name on the door.

"J. Chalmers Maxwell, Private."

Okay, chump,

but see that you keep it private.

I wouldn't want this job kicked around.

Keep in touch with me

after you make that gate, Smitty.

We got plans.

- Pressure in on them?

- No.

- The lamebrain's going straight.

- Straight?

Must be stir-crazy.

- Pressure. What have we got to lose?

- Yeah?

If we go and get caught,

we're back in time for Elmira.

- You're flannel-brained.

- I still think he's got something hot.

Yeah, he's got something hot, all right.

Yeah. A comfortable chair

upholstered with wire.

He's safe.

Attaboy, Rusty.

Boy, the bases are loaded.

Batter up.

Come on, flannel-brain,

you're at bat.

- Who me?

MAN 1:
Slam it out, Jug.

MAN 2:
Wild batter.

MAN 3:
What are you doing?

Wait a minute, wait a minute, Jug.

Don't you try murdering anything.

Now, the bases are loaded.

All we need is one run to win.

- What's wrong with a homer?

- Nothing, except you ain't DiMaggio.

The situation calls for strategy.

- Batter up.

- Coming, Spud.

Go out there

and get yourself hit by a pitch ball.

Now, wait a minute, that ball's hard.

Take your base

and the winning run is forced in.

- It's still hard.

- Jug, it isn't often...

...that the team has called on you

for sacrifice.

Don't you want to leave

with plaudits of your fellows inmates?

- Sure.

- Don't you want a few memories...

...of your last varsity game?

- Sure, I do.

- Get in there and fight.

- All right, but it's still gonna hurt.

UMPIRE:

Batter up.

Okay, okay, okay.

Take your base.

What's the idea, pitcher?

What did you hit him for?

Why don't you throw him out?

We don't hit a batter like that.

All right, come on up.

Come on, let's take him off the field.

You men have discharged

your debt to the state...

...and are going back into the world

free men.

The sweetest words I heard

in two years.

I urgently recommend that you go out

and meet society...

...as honest, God-fearing citizens.

Well, you have my hand on that,

warden.

There's only one thing.

I'm prepared to meet society...

...but is society prepared to meet me?

- How do you mean?

- Well...

Not that I'm complaining, mind you...

...but in a world where a man is judged

by his appearance...

...this is hardly the garment

to embark on a new life.

You should've thought of that before

selling stock in a mythical company.

Before you got yourself mixed up in slot

machines, pinballs, other dubious rackets.

Oh, burned bridges, warden.

My past is behind me.

Right now, I'm ready to work my fingers

to the bone just for rent and groceries.

I want my little girl to have things.

To be able to hold her chin up

when she sees her daddy.

I want to look the world

in the face again.

I understand, Pressure.

I'm sorry, warden.

But, you know, what I'm trying to say is:

Maybe you have some old, abandoned

garment I could wear.

You know, something to make me

presentable.

Well, I like, for instance,

this pinstripe you have on.

We're about the same size.

It isn't for me, warden.

It's for that little girl back home.

I'm thinking of her face

when she sees me.

A man just released from prison...

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Everett Freeman

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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