Flutter Page #6

Synopsis: Chancer John lives for playing the odds - and he's always willing to take a calculated risk. But when he meets the mysterious and beautiful female bookie Stan, he discovers there's much more to gambling than just greyhounds and horses. Lured by her huge payoffs, John finds himself sucked into a surreal and dangerous world ruled by money, power and control. The question is how far will John go for the ultimate last big win?
 
IMDB:
5.2
TV-MA
Year:
2011
86 min
45 Views


A bet's a bet, John.

Come on, Stan. Have a heart. We're

talking about my marriage here.

Which is up sh*t creek 'cause you

sent a f***ing picture to Helen.

And why would you do that?

- Actually, that wasn't me. That was Bruno.

- Yeah, but why?

Why do you think?

- It was a bet.

- Exactly.

And a bet's a bet.

You agreed to it.

I agreed to it.

You knew the risk

you were taking, John,

and you have to follow a bet

through to the end.

Adrian knew that.

What do you mean,

Adrian knew?

Oh, my God.

You did kill Adrian.

No. Electricity killed Adrian.

Greed killed Adrian.

I just gave him

good odds.

Wagner was right.

"Wagner was right. "

Oh. Look at the time. I

think you're gonna enjoy this.

Is that Wagner?

What the f*** is going on?

You're just in time

for the first race.

Which one do you like?

This is sick.

What are you doing?

Come on, John. I'll give you

a free bet on this one.

Can't believe

you're doing this.

I quite like trap five.

Seems eager.

Stan.

Go!

Yeah!

Whoo!

Told you. Trap five. This is disgusting.

Oh, lighten up, John.

It's just a little flutter.

Come on, Stan. Give me back my

wedding ring. Please. I'm begging you.

Now, I'm not

an unreasonable person.

Maybe I could offer you

a solution.

Go on. Anything.

Oi. Just let me do

this one more bet,

and you can have

anything you want.

Unfortunately,

you have nothing to bet with.

You can have anything you want

as a stake, Stan. Just name it.

Anything?

Anything.

Okay.

What about you?

What do you mean, what about me? You.

You put yourself up as

a stake. I don't get it.

Your soul.

What?

Your soul.

That's the stake for the bet.

What are you talking about, my

soul? You can't bet on a soul.

That's the stake.

Take it or leave it, John.

All right. What the f***. I don't

even believe in the soul anyway.

So come on then.

What's the bet?

Think you'll like

this one.

Bruno?

Oh, what the f***

are you doing?

Stop!

Freddie's not looking so good,

is he, John?

I said what the f***

are you doing with him?

One last bet.

That's what you wanted.

So here it is,

double or quits.

What's he doing here?

Isn't it obvious?

He's the bet.

- Wh-What are you doing? -

Relax. There's nothing in there.

- What are you doing?

- Nothing but air.

So what's the bet?

Simple, really.

Chances are Freddie's

not gonna get any better.

So I'm betting you can't do

the decent thing...

send him on his way.

What, kill him?

Such a brutal way

of putting it.

All you have to do

is push the plunger down...

and the oxygen bubbles

in his bloodstream...

will send him off

quickly and peacefully.

Really, you'll be

doing him a favor.

F*** off!

I'm not gonna kill Freddie.

Then you lose the bet

and I take your soul.

Take my soul? What's that

even supposed to mean, Stan?

If you lose, you'll be beholden to Stan

for the rest of your mortal span and beyond.

You're hers.

You can't be serious.

Do you think I want

to be here, with her?

You think I enjoy

any of this?

F***ing hell.

You wanted a bet, John.

So what are you gonna do, huh?

- I'm not gonna kill Freddie.

- Then you're mine.

No, I'm not yours.

Then kill Freddie.

No. You're insane.

I'm not doing it.

Bet's a bet, John.

I could make it

so you win every time.

I'm not killing him. What

else do you have left, huh?

Helen's gone.

I'll win her back.

You've lost her...

and your unborn son.

- I can't kill him.

- I could give you more money than you've ever dreamt of.

- No.

- You could start again. You could find a new wife.

- No, I'm not listening to you.

- All you have to do is the merciful thing, really.

No.

Then you're mine.

Stop saying that!

You've lost everything. You

have nothing left here, John.

Why are you

doing this to us?

You do it

to yourselves.

This is

your last chance, John.

Kill Freddie, and you could

have anything you want.

Don't do it,

and you're mine.

It's time

to make a decision.

Time's up.

Kill him.

You're mine now, John.

Get the f*** away

from my dad!

You come near him,

and I'll kill you.

I doubt it.

But it's okay.

I've got what I wanted.

You lost, John.

Come on, boys.

I'm s...

I'm so sorry.

See you around, John.

For the first two weeks,

I turned up at 10:00 AM,

until someone pointed out

work started at 9:00.

I had no idea.

I thought everywhere opened

the same time as the bookies.

Do I like the job?

No. I hate it.

Hi. My name's Rob.

I'm a compulsive gambler.

And I joined Gamblers Anonymous, tried

to make sense of everything that happened.

And sometimes they won,

sometimes they lost.

Mainly they lost.

For a while,

I was on Freddie's sofa.

He got better pretty quick.

The old bugger even started

getting out of the house.

Then, thank God,

I graduated to our own sofa.

And then finally

she let me back into bed.

Stan never turned up again.

And we never went

near the track, just in case.

Don't know if I believe in the

soul and whether I've lost it.

But I do know life

will never be normal again...

and I know Helen

still doesn't really trust me.

But hopefully,

one day soon,

when the baby comes,

our luck will change.

Just don't ask me to bet on it.

Boys, I told you the market

couldn't keep going on like that,

but you didn't listen.

So, double or quits,

like we agreed.

Two of these have parachutes.

One of them

has Bruno's lunch.

Really can't beat those odds.

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Stephen Leslie

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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