Get Hard Page #9

- No!

- Motherfuckers!

- It's Nazi titties!

- And they're huge!

Get out!

Oh, sh*t!

- Whoa!

- B*tch, get your white ass off!

Goddamn it! Ugh!

Oh, go, go, go!

- You blew up my club, Jew Hair!

- Oh, sh*t!

Post-racial America, a**holes!

- F*** you, Nazis!

- Yeah!

I'm so glad to be back in Crenshaw

where it's safe.

My heart is just now finally settling.

Yeah. We're alive.

How about we make a toast

to escaping f***ing Nazis.

Yes. Heh.

You really are innocent, aren't you?

Yes.

- Absolutely.

- Okay, so James, if that's the case...

...then why aren't you trying to find

the guy that framed you?

We are.

Who are?

Now, Martin has a team of investigators

working around the clock.

He's keeping me up to date.

But the million-dollar question is:

- Who falsified my transaction records?

- All right, lay it on me.

All right. Now, this is very complicated

to follow.

I don't expect you to get it on the

first pass, so listen very carefully.

The one thing you need to understand

at the Wealthrop Fund...

...is that everything

flows through Martin.

- Okay?

- Okay.

Any sort of contact

with the clearing house, the traders...

...access to trading records

and client information...

...international accounts, institutions...

...and, of course, the doling out

of commissions all goes through Martin.

- So it's Martin.

- No.

Are you f***ing ki...?

It's common sense, James.

Look! All arrows point to Martin!

The only name on the board

is f***ing Martin!

Martin! Martin! Martin!

Come on! James, you need to focus.

You're going to prison

unless you can prove that Martin did it.

We'd need to get a hold

of the master records...

...which is a log of all transactions

made by anyone in the firm.

- Okay, how do we get it?

- Martin has the original copy...

...on the same computer that he had

when he started the company.

You got to be the dumbest genius I've...

Get up, James!

- All right.

- F*** the board! Let's go, James!

We're going to Martin's office.

Act natural, James.

You walking like you guilty.

- Hey, big guy, you catch the game?

- Yeah.

Hey, big guy, my name is Ken.

I work here.

It's in this cabinet.

We just have to figure out a way

to get the door open.

Watch out.

I got it.

Ugh. There it is. Same computer he had

when he started the company.

It's a good luck charm.

Good luck charm, my ass.

It has no connection to the outside world.

No emails, no internet, no trace.

There it is. The master records.

That's what we need.

This will clear my name.

Well, then let's not waste time. Get it.

Yes! I'm not going to prison.

More importantly,

I'm not gonna be anyone's b*tch.

Hey, you are living the dream, my friend.

- Darnell?

- Yeah?

Look, you saved my life.

- I don't know how I'll ever repay you.

- Oh, come on, man.

Just this once.

All right, break it up.

Leave the cart there and back away.

Move away, come on. Move, move.

I actually respect you for trying,

but enough is enough, James.

All right.

What are you doing?

James, what are you doing?

Don't mad-dog, James.

He's gonna shoot us.

What the f***?!

No. He's gonna kill us, man.

- Do you want some?!

- Oh, f***!

- Do you wanna step with me?!

- God!

You'd better... Don't...

Oh.

The gun! Grab the gun!

- Huh?

- Why don't you pick up the gun!

Uh...

- Grab it!

- Yeah. I got it, I got it!

I got it. Yeah, I got it.

You look a little nervous.

First time holding a gun?

Nope.

Motherf***er, freeze!

Before I pop yo ass!

"Pop"? Really?

I would listen to him.

This man's a dangerous felon.

Yeah, except when I ran his record,

it was the cleanest one I'd ever seen.

Not even a parking ticket.

- Yeah.

- What?

You didn't know? Yeah.

Stop dicking around and give me the gun.

Come on. Give me the gun.

I think you have the safety on.

Sh*t! Ow.

Ugh.

See? Safety's on.

Safety off.

Martin was right. You are

a lucky little sh*t.

Don't give me reason to find you again.

Either of you.

Don't you mad-dog me, James.

Listen, listen,

I got some explaining to do. James!

We can talk about this

after we go catch this guy.

You traitor!

- "Traitor"?

- Everything you taught me was a lie!

And now I'm f***ed

beyond all fucktitude!

My life's a**hole is f***ed!

You stop with your unorthodox style

of cussing!

You just remember:

Whatever happens to me in there,

it's your fault!

Oh, stop. That's bullshit, man.

Okay, I may have lied to you about going

to jail, but I did my job. I got you ready!

Ready for what?!

Maximum-bullshit prison?

I almost sucked a dick because of you!

I don't even give a sh*t.

It's my sign.

Now, the great thing about an IRA, if you need

the money for education or a first home...

...motherfuckers can make withdrawal

penalty-free.

I honestly don't get the difference

between Roth and the traditional IRAs.

F*** is wrong with you?

The sh*t is pretax.

No, it's okay.

A lot of people get confused by that.

This b*tch is gonna mess around,

get us audited.

- Say what you mean.

- You got five years' receipts, motherf***er?

And the strip club ain't no home office!

That's a red flag, nigga!

You big beanbag-build b*tch!

Stop it! You all friends! Right?

Now JoJo, you might be right.

A strip club isn't a home office.

You're asking to be audited, son.

But is being right more important

than friendship? Huh?

Take it from me.

I lost my black friend.

Don't lose yours.

Hug.

Hug, motherfuckers!

- I'm sorry.

- I'm sorry, man.

- I'll love you forever.

- Hey, bro, you know, it's just talk.

Say, cos, you ready to get

put on the hood?

I'm rolling.

Mayo, I need you to sink your mind

into this, cos.

Once you step through this threshold,

motherfuckers are ready to kill for you.

I mean a whole fraternity of motherfuckers

gonna have your back.

But there's only one way out of this.

That's when your casket

drops into the ground.

So from this day forward...

...you have eternal protection...

...until your eternal demise.

We dead-ass serious about what we do.

And if you go through that threshold

and you make it back...

...we gonna be dead-ass serious about you.

Time to smoke some fools.

Crenshaw Kings for life, motherf***er.

Hmm. Almost.

Let's roll.

Hey.

You come back safe.

I will, Shonda.

- We gotta go, Mayo.

- Bye, baby.

Let's roll, cos.

Hold up! Oh, sh*t! Wait, wait, wait!

Oh, wait, wait, wait!

Hey! It's Darnell! It's Darnell!

- It's Darnell!

- What the f*** are you doing here?

Sh*t, cousin!

Man, tell them to put their guns down!

Man, put them up.

God!

What is your problem, man?

What are you doing?

Man, give us a second.

I'm blooding in. Crenshaw Kings

are gonna protect me on the inside.

So you're gonna go and kill somebody, James?

Huh? Have you lost your f***ing mind?

I have to. I don't have a choice.

That is not true.

I came here to tell you

we can clear your name, James.

But you gotta trust me, man.

We gotta roll, Mayo.

"Mayo"?

- Who the f*** is Mayo?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes