Filantropica Page #4

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-I was told to come here...

-I know, that drunkard from the station sent you.

Sir, I don't see how I can use you.

I'd like to show you a book.

It's a collection of short stories.

-Are you a writer?

-Beginner.

Ok, and what's the problem?

The problem is...

people don't buy them.

And I need to sell about 100 books.

-No way.

-So no...

No chance.

-Mr. Piedone is here.

-Tell him to wait a second.

So you need money.

Do you know what I do here?

Not really... I guess, since it's a foundation,

that you finance some cultural projects...

So much intuition moves me.

Come with me.

Sit on the couch.

Piedone, a new batch?

Five pieces, sir, all in great shape.

They're waiting outside.

-How much do you pay?

-20% for each text, like last time.

For this kind of money I shouldn't

even be talking to you.

What can I do,

I have a mother's soul?

Miruna! Get here and write!

Come on, you bums!

Let's see you in a parade!

One by one, or I'll break your bones!

And how they beat me up,

and how they tortured me, oh, Lord...

Give her something, she was in jail

during Ceausescu's era.

You must be nuts. She won't see a penny

and she'd get beaten up for anti-communism.

Dress her up in a wedding gown, and send her to churches

with a picture of her husband who "just passed away".

Write:
"My husband is coming right back."

"He went to the Lord

and told me to wait for him right here."

Come on, next!

-This guy is some kind of artist...

-Film director.

Give him a piece of cardboard that says:

"During Ceausescu's era I was a director

and I made movies".

"Today Sergiu is a senator,

and I'm unemployed and very ill".

Sir, you're the best!

Next!

Child with AIDS?

AIDS doesn't work in Romania,

here people die of a simple flu.

-Can he sing?

-Can you sing, kid?

He knows, or else

he'll get his ass whooped.

Ok, I'll make him an orphanage song

to sing in the subway.

You get the text when you come with the money.

Next!

-An invalid guy, retired.

-Like three quarters of the population.

Uniform, medals, crutches... You shave his head like a

ping-pong ball and give him a sign that says:

"My eye and my leg are at Stalingrad".

Pregnant in the 7th month. Give her a stroller

in which she has a doll.

Make sure it's a ragged doll. Text:

"I hope at least this next one lives".

-Live long, Mr. Pepe, you're an artist.

-I know...

-I'm leaving, I see someone else is waiting for you.

-Miruna, see the gentleman out.

I'm leaving in five minutes, call the driver.

Sir, you were talking about some cultural

projects, and I interrupted you.

I think I came to the wrong place,

please excuse me.

If I think about it,

maybe you came to the right place.

Can I give you a ride someplace?

There was no such job. I invented it.

-Being a beggar?

-Writing texts for beggars.

Of course, I don't write large texts, like you.

But my texts have an advantage: they sell!

Look at these poor suckers.

Free "professionals", if you will.

Nobody organizes them, they don't earn anything,

and they are useless for society.

Like yourself.

See that guy over there?

"Sad violinist who doesn't even sing anymore,

because he's so desperate".

Heartbreaking... Funny thing is... he never did sing.

He doesn't know how.

He couldn't even hold the violin straight.

I taught him that.

-Well, people give him money.

-how much can they give?

You wouldn't believe. In a few

hours he rounds up a small fortune.

Mr. Piedone, you met him.

He stops by two times a day to collect the money.

Even the Police gets its share.

This is what I call "organized begging".

-I think it's shameful.

-You think small.

It's not shameful to ask.

It's shameful not to receive.

Look at the Romanian Government. It's been begging

for years from Europe and the US, and nobody gives anything.

What can I say, that's what happens

when they use amateurs for the job!

Pay attention to this gentleman.

Excuse me... It's embarrassing, but...

could you please lend me 50.000 lei?

I have an emergency, and this ATM is broken,

and I have no choice, I need to take a cab.

See, you don't always need to be

in shambles in order to get money.

This is something the Government

hasn't understood yet.

Give me your phone number, so I can contact you...

But please, forget about it,

we're human beings after all...

-But please, I insist...

-No problem, have a nice day.

-How much money did you say you needed?

-2-3 million lei.

-Urgently?

-By Saturday.

Will you do something in order to get them?

You mean become a beggar with a credit card? No.

Not exactly. Without a credit card.

And what's even more interesting - in your place,

I'd think better about this...

...you wouldn't even have to ask.

Were you ever preoccupied with the mechanism of pity?

It's an exciting field.

What's the secret little engine that triggers

compassion in human beings?

I'll tell you:
it's always the story.

If the hand you hold out doesn't tell a story,

you won't get any money.

I have a few new ideas that I haven't

had a chance to experiment yet.

I was missing... an actor.

You have exactly the type of face I need,

and you have another quality: you're sad.

If you enter one of my schemes

and obey the rules...

I guarantee that by Saturday you'll get

even more than you need.

Think about it and give me a call.

"Call me honey, I'm alone and I want you...

I want us to be together,

to spend unforgettable moments...

Call, and all your fantasies will become reality.

Call Mr. Pavel Puiutz and I'll be yours".

Bucescu? Bring me your cell phone, please.

But why, teach, I wasn't talking.

I was! Bring it here!

How do you dial a number?

Yes. Speaking. Yes, what did you decide?

And that is the winning answer!

I'm happy to work with you.

Now listen carefully. Remember the young lady in my office?

Good evening. I'm Ovidiu Gorea.

Miruna Stan. Shall we?

-Hello.

-There! Straight ahead.

Don't rush! We'll have to keep

drinking those for a couple of hours.

Say something, make some conversation.

How many years are we supposed to be married?

-10.

-Ok.

That doesn't mean we have nothing

to say to teach other, does it?

I don't trust the waiter.

He's rude and he despises us.

-That's how he should be.

-Did you see how he greeted us?

Don't be stupid... Pepe talked to him.

He should be rude so that people side with us.

-Oh. What people?

-At this hour?

You'll see in an hour what people I'm talking about.

-Ah, I'm dying for a cigarette...

-Please.

No, thanks. Pepe says I can't smoke,

it doesn't fit my character.

-What the hell am I doing here?

-What?

I've thought about it. There are things you do,

and things you don't do.

I can't do this circus.

I thought I could, but I can't.

Please give my apologies to Mr. Pepe.

I'm sorry for...

...leave some money here, it can't be more than...

Before I forget, the wedding ring.

Well, surprise, Ovidiu and Miruna!

What a small world! Just a few tables!

You look great together.

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