Lake George

Hi. I can't come

to the phone right now.

Hey, it's, uh... it's me.

I just wanted to let you know that I'm back.

Hope everyone there is doing good, and...

please give my love to the kids.

You know, I'd love to see them.

Um...

Well, that's all.

Okay.

Jerry.

Well, you said when I got out,

you'd have a position waiting for me.

I'm out.

"Mandates"?

No, I didn't hear that.

Call you back in six months?

You folded.

Wh... what happened?

Uh. Is, uh, Mr. Shefland in, please?

Yes, uh, he and I discussed a sales position.

He passed away?

- Is Armen here? - Who are you?

My name's Don. He'll know what I want.

Wait here.

You get two views for the price of one.

Glendale and Los Angeles.

You live in Glendale?

- Pasadena. - Pasadena!

Don.

Hello, Armen.

Where the hell have you been?

Oh, you know.

You look good.

What the fuck happened to your arm?

What arm?

So... ...what's on your mind?

You know that too.

- You think I owe you money. - I do, Armen.

I didn't think you'd have the balls

to come here and ask for it.

You must be hitting the track again.

No, I'm not.

You are right though.

I do owe you.

But... you owe me too!

How do you figure?

Well...

...you fucked up so spectacularly

that it cost me a lot of money.

It's one thing for a job to go south, but...

Jesus, you really set a new standard.

- Look, it wasn't that simple. - It wasn't that hard.

And if I give you the money, what are you gonna do with it?

Well, I...

I don't think that's any of your business.

Well, I would like to know

how it's being put to use.

I work hard for my money.

I found a cabin up at Lake George.

- Where the fuck is Lake George? - The Sierra.

- What's the Sierra? - They're mountains, Armen.

Look, let's be honest, you really don't care. Okay?

It's a drop in the bucket for you.

Just pay me, and I'll be out of your hair.

That's not nice.

To say I don't care about you.

Come here.

This is what they call a million-dollar view.

Beautiful, isn't it?

Sure.

Two views for the price of one.

I got an idea.

Okay.

You repay me for your fuck-up,

and I pay you what I owe you. Then we're both happy.

Listen, Armen, I just...

I have a problem that needs to go away.

Her name is Phyllis.

I need her taken care of.

- Taken care of? - Yeah.

- Me? - Yes.

Oh, I don't do that type of thing.

I met her in rehab.

We were both into coke, big time.

I said if she was half as good in bed

as she was hittin' the rails, I'd have to have her.

She did not disappoint,

and I fell hard for her.

Great couple of years,

and then her real side started to show.

Wanted this and that until nothing was good enough.

Got her a car, a fancy place of her own.

And then, she wanted in on the business.

I brought her in because she's good with numbers,

but she keeps on asking for more and more.

Now she knows too much, and turns out...

...she's a dirty cunt.

I need to get rid of her.

Armen, you know me.

You know I don't do that type of thing.

That's why you're perfect.

Nobody would think for a second that you could do it.

Besides, everybody is capable of anything

- if they're desperate enough. - I'm not that desperate.

Nobody gives a shit about you, Don.

I could throw you over the balcony

and it wouldn't change the world one bit.

At least with the money I'm gonna pay you,

you'll have something.

- What about him? - Harout? He can't.

Too close to home.

Well, I'm sorry, Armen. I can't either.

Okay. Then get the fuck out of my house.

Armen, please.

You have a lot of balls...

- Armen! - ...to come to my house

and ask for money.

I always heard

you were a pretty good bullfighter, Herb.

How are you without a gun? Or a knife?

Armen wants to see you.

You mistook me for someone else.

You know I never take "No" for an answer.

You wanna walk out of this house alive...

then you are gonna do it.

- You understand? - I... I understand.

I just can't do it. You know that.

What I do know is that you really fucked me over.

You set me back at least five years.

I'd be living in a Beverly Hills mansion

with a Malibu beach house, if it wasn't for you.

- Armen, please don't do this. - So?

So?

- So? - I'll do it.

What? I can't hear you.

I'll fu... fucking do it.

I'm glad I didn't have to twist your arm.

You got a week, understand?

Yeah.

Good.

Harout will give you the details.

I don't have anything.

What do you mean?

I'm broke. I don't have... I don't have a car. Nothing.

Shit! You haven't changed.

It's about 5,000. That oughta hold you over.

Harout, take him to Nick and have him set him up.

Don't fuck it up this time, Don!

Come on!

Nick!

Hey, Pop. Where the fuck is Nick?

Nick?

Harout, how are you, my friend?

I'm good. I'm good.

- This is Don. - How are you, my friend?

- Don needs some wheels. - Oh.

I got the perfect car for you, Don.

A 1983 Mercedes 300-diesel wagon.

Million mileage and plus,

you can put a ton of bricks in the back of this car.

It's got the air suspension. Come on. I'll show you.

Huh?

What the fuck? This thing won't break down?

Ah, don't worry about the black smoke.

It will go away. Just put the pedal to the metal.

All right, we'll take it. Also, he needs a little friend.

No problem.

Step into my office.

What do you have in mind? Semi? Automatic?

- Uh, give him a .45. - Oh, great choice.

Simple. Reliable.

Like the car.

- He needs a cell phone. - Ah. Great choice.

iPhone? Galaxy? Pixel...

Oh, look at this one with the big numbers.

- Cellular One. - That one.

- And how about the zip ties? - On the house.

How about a knife?

Guarantee it comes in handy.

Mm. All right, we'll take it.

Great. Smart. Anything else?

I think that's it, that he's all set.

I'm gonna tell Armen to pay you.

Hey, he always takes care of me.

Thanks.

Good luck to you, my friend.

Come on.

If I was you, I would do it quick.

Hey. You fuck with us,

and I'll put your dick in a meat grinder, okay?

Remember, Phyllis is a piece of shit.

Don't listen to a word she says.

Armen?

I need you to come with me.

Stop! Don't!

No!

Are you gonna kill me?

Armen hired you to kill me, right?

What'd he tell you? I'm dirty, right?