The Gambler Page #3

he was sending me to a clerk.

Hey, fella.

Hey, come here, you!

Hey, buddy!

- Hey, it's me.

- So what?

So what your ass.

What are you tryin' to do?

Chase away the whole neighborhood?

- F*** 'em.

- I gotta use your phone.

- Go ahead.

- Do me a favor. Turn that lower.

Hey, listen. I tried

to call your office before.

Hello? This is Hips. What the f***

are you tryin' to pull?

Yeah? Well, I wouldn't count

on that if I was you.

You could get the marines

and the Arab guerrillas...

and 20 n*ggers with chains and

they could all be protectin' you...

and I'd still kick your f***in'

face in if I ain't paid tomorrow.

Yeah?

I'll come throw lye in your eyes.

I'll boil your lungs in oil.

You dirty, lowdown stool pigeon,

motherfuckin' degenerate dog!

Die!

What is that Italian?

What? It don't mean nothin'.

But anything that sounds Italian

scares the sh*t out of them.

That's pretty good.

No, it ain't. You don't got

to flatter me, Axel.

Anybody reads Shakespeare,

he ain't impressed by match tricks.

- To the contrary.

- "To the contrary"!

I love the way you talk. Nobody

uses expressions the way you do.

Would you like something to eat?

Little yogurt or something?

I didn't come to eat.

How much you got for me?

Nothing today.

Tomorrow.

You know what's standing between

your skull and a baseball bat?

My word.

I told my people you're legitimate,

so for now they ain't too crazy.

But that could change tonight.

What is this? You never gave me

this sh*t before, Hips.

You never been in this trouble.

Let me tell you somethin'.

It's bullshit when they say

that a man which owe 50,000...

is in the same doghouse

with a man which owe 15.

I have to finish getting dressed.

I'll get it for you, all right?

I hope you're not gettin' it by

bettin' with some other bookmaker.

I'll get it!

You let me worry about how!

I'll see youse.

Rebecca has a little present

for you.

Silver cuff links!

How lovely!

- My darling boy.

- Happy birthday, Gramp.

I see you're wearing

your favorite tie.

Well, I take my style

from the master.

Let there be silence.

Silence.

My grandson, the distinguished

professor of literature...

and future author

of immortal books...

has requested your attention.

We are living in an age...

that subverts the breeding

of men like A.R. Lowenthal.

Hear, hear.

In Lithuania,

when he was 13...

he stuck a knife in the back

of a Cossack pig...

who had knocked his mother

to the ground.

At 15, he prowled New York

as a bandit...

until he had the cash to feed

a family of five.

At 20, he opened

a furniture store.

Which he built into two,

then fifteen...

then fifty, then a hundred.

Until finally he had the largest

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