The Great & The Small

1

- You sure this ain't my baby?

He thinks I'm dad,

I see now, look.

This f***er's mine,

he has my eyes.

- His name is Mickey

and you know that.

You didn't want yours, can't

be f***ing your plan up.

That's a quote, and

them eyes ain't yours.

- People lie.

You know that, right, like,

how do I know you didn't,

tell me you gave

him away and lied,

like and then you kept him.

- 'Cause, I don't know.

He'd be like two

or three years old.

Wanna put my baby in the

room and come f*** me?

- I ain't touching that baby.

Do I look like a dad to you?

- You don't even

look like a man.

Take my baby to the other room.

And come f*** me.

- Hell dude.

He can't even talk.

He can't eat, he can't feed

himself, he can't wash himself.

That baby can't even

give himself his shower.

Right?

He don't know nothing.

So come on.

I ain't touching that

other dude's baby.

- You f***ed it up.

- What, no.

No, no.

- These rich fuckas.

They always, always go on

vacation during their move.

They don't wanna lift a finger,

they don't want to move as

much as a spoon by 'emselves,

so, presentation is

key, simple and classic.

Rent your car in a one-off site.

Stilettos.

Couple of buttons

undone on the shirt.

It's very important she

has to turn the hubby on,

but she's also got to appear

non-threatening to the wife.

It's a very delicate balance.

Now that she's kissed some

ass, and given the husband

a good eye f***ing, we

get down to business.

Proper walk through the house,

special notes and attention

to all the antiques,

the artwork,

the high dollar

items, what have ya.

And this becomes our

list, so if they say,

oh be careful with this,

that means we are takin' it.

Do you know any other

gig where the mark points

out to you what to take?

I don't think so.

Trust established,

fake referrals,

and our sweet little sales

rep gets in her Mercedes,

and drives off back down

rich white people boulevard.

But leave no loose ends.

Nothing.

Culpable deniability

I like to call it.

Burn it all, move on.

After the car's returned,

the phony contract

with the personal information

plus the inventory list

is mailed to a p.O box,

and the girl disappears.

Different girl every time.

So, when the marker's

left we schedule the move.

Right, now, I am a business man.

This is a business transaction.

You've been vouched

for and I know

that you do what you're told.

But, the last thing we need

is for your ass

to end up in jail,

so you stay out of trouble,

I'll stay out of trouble.

That's what life's all about,

right, stayin' out of trouble.

Agree to the gig.

We'll both sign this

probation completion form.

There you go.

Big head's gonna see

that you've fulfilled

your obligation to

this great state.

There's the bonus, 'cause,

cut of the take comes

to you, the other cut

comes to yours truly,

and let's just say,

it's gonna be enough

to start that troubled

life of yours all over.

- You can take this contract

and shove it up

your ass, Richie.

Then you can take this pen

and shove it up your urethra.

I'll finish my

hours and move on.

Scott.

Scott.

Oy!

The f*** are you doing?

You were supposed to report

to the office half hour ago.

What the f***?

Jury at work young man.

You fail to show up I

will call your counselor.

You do your work

and we'll be good.

Thing is, we don't have

much work around here,

but you guys are

cheap labor, so,

if there's no work,

you're gonna move sh*t

from one place to another.

No forklift, no

machinery, just sweat,

and you put yourself in

this particular predicament,

so don't come crying to me.

You do not talk to

these people, ever.

This is a series of

interconnected buildings.

This is where they make things.

There are pants,

one shirt, one

pair of size 10's.

I used some new stuff on you.

It's sophisticated

humor young man.

I'm sorry if it

went over your head.

Oh those lazy fucks.

Your work course is

incomplete, f***ing typical.

Sit down.

Go on.

Now it says here name,

the a**hole just puts Scott.

- Yeah, it's my last name.

Don't gimme sh*t

about it either.

What?

- Have I done something to you?

No.

Then don't give me attitude.

Think you dumb little sh*t.

I think I've been fairly

f***in' fluffy with you

if you ask my honest assessment.

Alright, full name.

- It's Nicholas Scott, n-i-c-h...

- Yes, I can spell, Nicholas.

- Good for you.

- Well here's a

f***ing first Nicholas.

Your address reads as follows,

go east six blocks of the

abandoned warehouse with

the sign that says Eastwick,

go north across the street.

You can't make this sh*t up.

It's the little house

with tons of steps

up the steep hill and

post gripped rusty door.

- Couldn't remember the address.

- Right, obviously.

Let me be clear.

We have rules.

It's what you might call

a zero tolerance policy,

meaning zero tardies,

zero problems.

You're on probation.

This isn't a summer caddy

job at some country club.

- Roger.

- Then do your little

drawings in there,

and not on the f***ing walls.

You can thank me later.

Now f*** off, you

silly little sh*t.

- God you're so loud.

- That's it.

- You like it, you're so loud.

- Come with me okay?

Come with me.

Okay?

Come with me, okay.

Say it, say it.

- Yeah.

- Say it.

- Yes.

- Say what, yes what?

- I'm gonna come with you,

yeah.

- Oh yeah, you're so loud.

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