The Perfect Gamble

Hey, Charlie!

Time to go home, Ace.

Already? This is really sudden.

I like the place.

Really shit.

...you do that.

Maybe I'll hit you up next weekend.

I got a good feeling about Green Bay.

Love to help you out, Joey.

But I'm out of the game.

Come on.

You gotta be shitting me, right?

No shit. I'm goin' clean.

Well, that's a fuckin' shame, if there ever was one.

Guess this is goodbye.

It is.

You take care of yourself, Charlie.

Good luck out there, eh.

I don't believe in luck.

I only believe in odds.

Yeah. I don't give a fuck what time he says!

Gimme--gimme 30,000 on the...

I was a bookie. Not only a good one.

I was the best in town. It was a sixth sense.

I could tell if a quarterback was comin' down with a cold,

just by looking at him in a press conference.

I could tell how injured a guy was after a hit,

just by the way he walked off the field.

And on any given Sunday, I knew the odds of one group

of meatheads clobberin' another group of meatheads.

And if I liked you, I'd give you those odds.

But if I didn't, I'd give you the exact opposite.

Charlie, give 'em 50,000 on the Ravens for Jimmy.

A'right, I got it, plus four. Don't worry about it.

I got you, I got you, I got you.

The only other guy I knew who was as good as me,

if not better, was Felix.

My partner and best friend.

Yo, I wanna put 30,000 on the

His parents moved here from Georgia,

without two pennies to rub together.

And he grew up knowin' what hard work was.

And he didn't want any part of it.

While we were takin' bets from high school kids

to state attorneys, we were also placing 'em.

- Fuck me! God fuckin' damnit! - Big ones.

Oh, my God, I can't fuckin' believe it!

There's nothin' like the anticipation.

That build-up, then boom!

Put your fucking hands in the air!

Then it was over.

They got us on a total Greek salad of charges.

From illegal gambling to drug possession,

unpaid parking tickets.

It was a mess.

But you know what they say: When one cell door closes,

another one opens.

Sports weren't our only bread and butter.

Me and Felix knew everything about gambling.

There was a bet to be made, we were right there to take it.

The thing about gambling is, you might win sometimes.

But if you stay at the table long enough...

Ohh!

...you'll always lose.

What's the word on the street, Charlie.

Are you battin' with that fat fuck meanie

from the fuckin' West Side?

Are you givin' him my fucking money? Are you, Charlie?

I was tryin' to win it back for you.

And when you see that little fuckin' prick Felix,

you tell him I want my fuckin' money.

I want my fuckin' money!

You understand me?

I want my fuckin' money!

What the fuck are they playin'? Crazy Eights?

I don't know what the fuck they're doin',

but I got 50 on fuckin' Jamal.

Felix got out a year before me.

-I'm gonna miss you. -Me too, buddy.

When I got out, I couldn't even play

the lottery without someone breathin' down my neck.

But Felix never forgot about me.

Let's go.

Yo, Regina.

Charlie fucking Cons! You're out.

Yeah, it's about fuckin' time, right?

About fucking time!

You look good, Regina.

Thanks.

To time.

Here's to not wastin' any more of it.

Yo, Felix, uh, wrote me a letter.

He said he dropped off a package here for me.

Yeah. Holy shit, yeah.

He dropped it off months ago.

I completely forgot. A moment.

Bingo.

Bingo.

Good to see you, Charlie.

Good to see you, Regina.

- Yeah? - Yeah?

That's how you answer the phone, you piece of shit?

Don't have caller ID over there?

I knew it was you, you fucking hard-on!

Great to hear your voice, buddy.

-So, you got my package, right? -Yeah, I got it.

I'm in fuckin' Georgia. The Homeland.

Charlie, listen. Get your fuckin' passport

and get your ass down here. A-S-A-P.

They don't know nothing about fuckin' football here.

Yeah, I'm comin'.

But I gotta ask,

what the fuck are we gonna do in Georgia?

Make fuckin' money, baby!

I was on the next plane out.

In a year, Felix had turned a shitstained

Georgian basement into Atlantic City.

Well, maybe Reno.

But with my help, he wanted to turn it into Vegas.

-What do you think? -How'd you do all this?

What do you mean, how'd I fuckin' do it?

I made a few phone calls, I killed a few people.

Seriously?

No, not seriously, fuckin' idiot!

I used the money.

What money?

The fuckin' money!

-The fan? -Yeah, the fuckin' fan!

Every weekend, we'd put away a few bucks

into somethin' we called "the fan fund."

The idea being, if the shit hit the fan,

we'd be covered.

We didn't trust banks,

so I took it to a place that was a hundred times safer.

My mom's.

We're doin' great. Business every fuckin' day.

That's why I brought you here.

-Come. Come, come, come. -What?

I'm taking care of a lot of people,

but it's fuckin' cool, right?

Our own fuckin' casino. And we don't have to deal

with the fuckin' bullshit from back home.

Well, bullshit'll come. Trust me.

Yeah, but it's our own fuckin' casino!

But this--

it's an underground, illegal casino.

Obviously! We've never done anything

that's fuckin' legal in our life.

That's true.

Charlie, don't worry about it.

I got it all fuckin' covered.

Yeah, it's pretty great.

We'll have to get permits or somethin'.

Pay off the chief of police.

No, we're not paying anybody off.

Are you fuckin' nuts? I'm taking care of a few people.

Let me handle all that shit, all right? Listen.

Let's go inside and make some fuckin' money, huh?

Let's make some fuckin' money!

I love you, buddy.

-Love you, buddy. -Go.

What Felix managed to put together in a year

was nothin' short of unbelievable.

He was friends with everybody.

Whatever they wanted, drinks, girls.

Felix made everyone feel like they were VIPs.

This is Charlie, my new partner!

And my focus was always on the tables.

It's all fun and games on the outside,

but there's a lot of money on these tables.

We have to keep everyone smiling while we take it.

And make sure they keep comin' back for more.

When we were runnin' the sport books,

the philosophy was, "You win some, you lose more."

No matter if someone hit it big one week,

they'd always end up losin' a lot more the next.

That old Kenny Rogers song was no joke.

You really had to know when to hold 'em

and know when to fuckin' fold 'em.

If someone's on a winning streak,

it's customary to switch out the dealer.

In order to keep the winning streak in check

and kill it altogether.

You take a card from the shoe, and you burn it.

Changes the whole deck.

Some games made it feel like the odds are in your favor.

If your number hadn't come up yet,

it's sure to come up eventually, right?

Wrong. It's called the "house advantage."

Keep 'em playin' long enough, the house always wins.

Let me see your passport.

Some guys asked for markers,

a house loan to keep 'em playin'

and give 'em a chance to win their money back.

Good for another 20.

I appreciate it. I really do.

Don't fuck this up.

But the markers didn't come without a price.

Listen, I'm gonna take your car.

You owe us money.