Ballad of a Small Player

Fuck.

My name is Doyle.

Lord Doyle.

I'm a high roller on a slippery slope.

A gambler with a pair of lucky gloves.

Washed up on the shores of Macau.

The gambling capital of the universe.

City of miracles

in a land saved from the sea.

But I no longer believe in miracles.

And in a few days, my life as I know it will be over.

Bollocks.

Reception center.

Not playing house tonight, Lord Doyle?

Not tonight, Kai. No, I practically bled this place dry.

If I win any more money from the Royale, they'll be paying you in arrears.

Order me a car, would you?

My sincere apologies, Lord Doyle,

but I'm told the hotel limousines are all tied up tonight.

All of them?

Shall I call you a taxi?

Never mind. It's a pleasant evening.

I think I'll walk.

Do you mind?

All I need is one big win, Kai, and they'll be throwing limousines at me.

Try the Rainbow Casino, sir.

You might get credit there.

Lord Doyle!

Oh. Mounts up, doesn't it?

A prompt settlement would be best for everyone, Lord Doyle.

Of course. Of course.

I shall call my banker in London

and have him wire you the outstanding amount immediately.

- Lord Doyle! - It is a Saturday.

Banks are closed in the UK. Sunday tomorrow, bank holiday Monday.

My account manager will be back at work first thing Tuesday morning.

Tuesday afternoon, our time. Will that suit?

The full balance of HK$352,000.64

must be paid by noon on Tuesday, Lord Doyle,

or I'll be forced to notify the police.

Noon on Tuesday.

You have three days.

In Macau, I am a gwai lo,

a foreign ghost...

cloaked in invisibility.

Here, I barely exist.

Here, I can be whoever I want to be.

Punto banco baccarat is the fastest card game on the planet.

Millions can be won or lost in a single bet.

And with a mere .9 advantage to the casino,

the prince of card games can change your life in an instant.

The rules are simple.

Two cards are dealt face down to the player with the highest wager.

Highest hand wins.

Cards two to nine score face value.

Tens and picture cards score nothing.

Highest score is nine.

Nine wins!

Player takes all.

Welcome to the Rainbow. May I interest you in a glass of champagne, sir?

I don't want any cheap champagne.

- Just give me Cristal. - Okay.

You speak good Chinese.

I smoke Chinese cigarettes too. The kind that kill.

My name is Dao Ming.

Really? Lord Doyle.

An honor to meet you, Lord Doyle.

Have you played baccarat before?

Once or twice. Mostly in Monte Carlo.

Who's the old biddy?

- That's Grandma. - Grandma?

We don't speak her name. She's a killer.

Her husband fools around while she spends his money.

- It's a good arrangement for us. - Killer, is she?

They say she sees spirits.

Well, let's hope they don't tell her what's on the cards.

Nine wins.

Death by guillotine. That's why I love it.

Nothing like it in the universe.

- The gwai lo is screwing up badly. - He has the look of bad luck.

My Cantonese is rusty. What did she say?

Grandma welcomes you.

I can burst his balls with one hand.

Surely a lord has deep pockets.

Only millionaires play in gloves.

You'll need billions to beat Grandma. Billions of dollars and no sense.

- Her luck will run out. - Not if the spirit world is with her.

Spirit world, my arse.

The only thing on Grandma's side is her husband's wallet. Twenty thousand.

- Thirty. - Thirty-five.

Fifty.

- Hey. Do you want credit? - Credit?

Twenty thousand US at 15% plus commission.

Fifty thousand at ten.

Twenty-five at 12.

Done.

What the fuck? You gonna lend him money?

Just look at his dick face. His luck has run out.

- What did she say? - She says you're a bad gambler.

Well, then, all the more reason to open me that line of credit.

Fuck credit! You're a loan shark.

- This transaction will fucking kill you! - Let me worry about that.

- Is there a problem? - No.

Your bar bill. Settle up first, and we'll take care of your credit line.

Of... course.

He's gonna make an escape.

Actually, why don't you order another bottle of bubbly,

and I'll come back from the men's room and skin her alive?

Wait here?

Of course.

Thank you.

Don't fucking do it.

The bastard won't come back.

You stupid cunt.

He's a lost soul.

Oh fuck.

Today marks the first day

of the Festival of the Hungry Ghosts.

Residents from all over the city bring offerings to be burned for the dead,

honoring and appeasing restless spirits.

Thank you.

Why did you lend him the money?

- Dao Ming. - I am sorry.

- My husband died because of you! - Hey! Hey, hey!

Hey, hey, hey! Whoa, whoa!

- I want my husband back! - Dao Ming!

- You killed my husband! - Dao Ming!

Taxi! Taxi!

Dao Ming!

Where are you going?

You owe me 300 US for the champagne.

I don't have it on me. Sorry.

Thank you.

Wait!

I'd like to make it up to you.

How about...

How about dinner and a dance?

You know, we could come to some arrangement.

I hate gamblers.

I'm standing at a statistical crossroads.

It's possible I keep on losing,

but probability says I have to start winning.

Probability won't save you.

Well, isn't that what life is? The statistical improbability.

Life is a mysterious gift.

Look, I... I played my way into this mess.

With the right backing, I can play my way out.

Look, look, look.

I've had a run of bad luck.

I've tried all the usual creditors, but...

word gets around.

I find myself in a bit of a bind.

Thank you.

Was he a client of yours?

You know, the... fellow who jumped?

It's not your fault.

If a man wants to chuck himself off a building, that's his prerogative.

A permanent solution to a temporary problem, I say.

I thought you were very distinguished

when I first saw you in the casino with your yellow gloves.

I've never seen anyone wear gloves in a casino before.

Savile Row's finest.

They're my good luck gloves.

But you have bad luck.

I have a proposition.

- I propose a mutually beneficial... - I'm not interested.

- Just hear me out, at least. - No.

- I'll give you half of... - You hear me! No more credit.

Not to you or anyone else. I've given up!

On what?

Life?

Trust me, I've been close to throwing in the towel myself.

More than once.

My guess is,

he owed money, which means you owe money.

It's none of my business, but whatever predicament you're in,

there are better ways out of it than killing yourself.

By lending money to another addict?

Don't sound so high and mighty.

If you're a broker at a high-end casino, you make straight commission. You're not.

You make your money from dodgy lines of credit and illegal side bets.

If you want me to leave, I'll leave. You can top yourself.

But please don't pretend you're superior to me.

I may be a gwai lo, but I still have a soul.

As far as I can see, it's no more lost than yours.

I should have refused him credit.

I should have told him no, but I didn't.

What was his name?

I've known so many.

You're all the same.

I'm not.

What makes you any different, apart from being a lord?

My lucky gloves.

Savile Row's finest?

Yes.

It's the Festival of the Hungry Ghost.

In a week, it will be Ghost Day.

That's when people burn offerings to the dead.

I have to leave here.

So should you.