Blank Check Page #2

Let's call it 1:
00.

Come on. Walk me out.|Show a little respect.

Whoa.

I know how you feel.

- Hi.|- Hi. Can you see okay?

Oh, yeah.|Oh, yeah, sure.

I would like to open|an account, please.

Eleven dollars.

Do you have any other money|you'd like to deposit, Mr Waters?

Oh, uh, I could,

but it's sort of hard to save|around my house; that's why I'm here.

I'm afraid we have|a minimum balance. It's $200.

Two hundred dollars?

That could take|a million years.

Well, whenever you're ready,|please come back and see me.

My name's Shay Stanley.

- Ask for me.|- Okay, I'll do that.

- Thanks.|- Bye-bye.

- I-I'll see you next time.|- I hope it's not in a million years.

B-Bye-bye.

[Biderman]|Excuse me. Carl, Carl!

Here. You can use these cheques.|They're temporary.

- Thank you, Edward.|- Like our relationship.

- Sucker!|- Give me that!

- [Laughing]|- Give it to me!

Butch, give it to me!

- Preston, come on!|- Butch!

- Give it back! Whoa!|- If you can catch me!

Come on, Butch!

[Control Panel Dings, Engine Revs]

[Preston Screams]

- [Screaming]|- [Tyres Screeching]

Perfect.

What the hell do you|think you're doing?

L... l...

- Huh?|- [Butch] I saw the whole thing.

- I can be a witness|if the price is decent.|- Get outta here.

He's perfectly all right,|aren't you? Aren't you?

- Yes.|- Good. Get that thing out|from underneath my car.

What about my bike?

- Kid, was I the one that parked there...|- Oh, my word!

- Are you all right?|- He's fine. It was just|a little accident. He's okay.

- I think this guy's been drinking vodka.|- I have not been drink...

[Laughs] I don't drink at all.|Seriously, seriously.

Kid, talk to me.|How much you want for the bike?

- A thousand bucks.|- I'm not talking to you!

Bye, kid.|Go on. Walk away.

What do you want, kid?|Name a figure, we'll discuss it.

Give this to your dad. He'll know|what to do with it. I gotta go.

[Tyres Screeching]

[Tyre Squeaking]

Oh, man.

I thought we understood about|taking care of our valuables.

Valuable?|It was a piece of junk.

If that's how you feel|about a gift from your parents,

I don't see giving you|a new one for your birthday.

I don't want a new bike.|I want my own room.

I'm warning you. You're on thin ice|as it is about the bike.

You know what I want?

What I want|is my own house.

My rules, my money.

Listen, young man,|until further notice, you're grounded.

What'd I do wrong?

[Sighs]|Fred.

Hmm.

It's a blank cheque.

"[Computer Start-Up Tone]

Preston Waters.

Two hundred.

Hmm.

A thousand.

Hmm.

One million dollars.

Cash.

Whoa!

One million dollars.

[Electronic Zooming]

Hey, sonny.

Cashin' a big one today?

Uh, sort of.

Yoo-hoo.|Over here, young man.

- Well?|- I-I-I'd like to...

cash this cheque, please.

Oh, a comedian.|[Laughing]

- N-No, ma'am.|- Okay, then we better take it|to Mr Biderman. Come on!

- [Ticking]|- [Door Opening]

Excuse me, Mr Biderman.|We have a little problem here.

What is it, Mrs Udowitz?

- Someone thinks this is|some kind of game.|- What?

Let me see that.

I see.

Is there much of a line|out there, Mrs Udowitz?

- Yes, we're swamped.|- Then what are you doing here?

Please.

[Door Closes]

- Juice?|- No, thanks, I'm not thirsty.

Not thirsty.

Mr Quigley give you|this cheque?

He did.

He did.

How did you|run into Mr Quigley?

I didn't.|He ran into me.

Aha.

[Snickering]

[Laughing]|Brilliant. Brilliant!

- [Groans]|- I suppose you want big bills.

Actually, regular size|would be okay.

Regular.|Hmm.

That's cute.

Put your backpack|on the table.

Hey, hey.

I assume you know|what to do with this.

- Uh-huh. Yeah.|- Uh-huh.

Next!

Look here, sweetheart.|Mmm, you're lookin' kind of good there.

You got your pearls|and everything on.

Hate for something|to have to happen to 'em.

Look here,|my name is Juice...

and I got something right here,|and I wondered...

if you'd be so kind enough|as to cash it for me.

What do you want?|A million bucks?

Well, as a matter of fact,|I do.

[Sighs]|Go see Biderman.

Mm-mm.|Oh, my goodness gracious.

Here we go.|Here we go.

You tell Mr Quigley that|he hasn't lost his touch.

- Uh-huh.|- All right. You can go now.

Hey, kid!

- Stay away from the racetrack.|- Yes, sir.

Good one, man.|Looking good.

Mmm. Oh!|Excuse me, sweetie.

[Gasps]

- What's wrong with you, little boy?|- [Preston] I'm sorry.

Don't be messin' up a view|as good as all that.

- I-I'm sorry.|- What you doin'|out of school anyway, huh?

You know you oughta|be in school.

Go on and get up outta here|before I start to get upset.

Hurry up.

How, uh...|How may I help you, sir?

I'm big Juice, man.|Quigley sent me.

Everything is fine.

- Not to worry.|- Uh-huh.

Yeah!

- The Eagle has landed.|- Hmm?

The horse is in the barn.

The chicken...|is in the pot.

Look here, man, I don't know nothin'|about no eagles landin' and all of that.

I don't know nothin'|about no horse runnin' through the barn.

And I certainly don't know nothin'|about no... chickens bein' in the pot.

You understand?

But if you do me a favour...

as to be so kind as to cash|this cheque right there,

- I could be on my way.|- Wait.

- Quigley sent you?|- That's right.

- What about the kid?|- What kid? Man...

The kid! The kid|with the backpack!

Look here, man.|I'm tired of tellin' you this.

But if you don't give me|the money for that cheque,

I guarantee there's a bullet|with your name on it in this chamber.

[Moaning]|The kid with the backpack.

The kid with the backpack!|The backpack!

The backpack!|Sh*t! Oh, my god!

[Quigley]|150 grand, cash.

- It's my last offer, guys.|- [Woman] You're our Realtor.

You tell us. This offer is so|much less than our asking price.

Well, Mrs Appleton,|it really is a buyer's market.

Do you mind if we take a minute|to think about it?

Listen, I got all the time|in the world, sweetheart.

Too bad I can't say|the same for you two.

Applesauce, what's|with the long face, my man?

I bought your pad. You've got some cash.|It's a beautiful thing.

Su casa is soon to be mi casa.|You know what I'm saying?

- Groovin' thing, man.|- Yeah, well...

[Dial Tone]

- " [Start-Up Tone]|- [Sighs]

[Phone Ringing]

- Hello.|- [Computer] Good afternoon.

...your house.|- [Computer Beeps]

I'd like to make|a cash offer on your house.

Someone else|wants to make an offer.

What?|On this dump?

- Uh, hello, sir. Can you hear me?|- Who is this yo-yo?

[Typing]

- [Computer] One-sixty.|- What kind of hustle is this?

And what's with|your voice, pal?

Sore throat-itis.|[Computer Coughs]

Yeah. I'll tell you what. One-seventy|right now, cash, and I walk away.

- You take it or leave it right now.|- Ask the box.

One-eighty,|plus closing costs.

- One-eighty,|- [Preston] Top that, sucker.

Plus closing costs.

- One-ninety, darlin'. Top that.|- Preston, honey?

I have a few errands to run.|I'll be back by 2:00.

Okay. Bye, Mom.

- [Computer] Two hundred.|- Two-ten.

- Just to be safe, make that 3:00.|- [Laughs]

- Three hundred?|- Ma, you're killin' me on this deal.

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