Hoffa Page #7

What?

You're gonna can a lot of people,

make sure you do it the first day.

That way, the ones that are left

don't feel insecure, you see.

What they feel is grateful.

You do it all piecemeal,

they're gonna turn against you.

Right, Jimmy.

- You listen to this good.

- Yes, sir.

Jimmy!

Let's shake some hands, Jo.

Whoa! Here I go.

- Here.

- Where is he?

I called him the club, the office, everybody.

Where the f*** is he?

F***in' cocksucker.

- The money I made him. The guys.

- I know, J.R.

The f***in' money I made that man.

Call him the Gold Club.

I called him the club.

They don't know where he is.

Call him that number in the back.

Equipment shed.

The card game.

Call him. He's coming or not.

I don't wanna be sittin' here

till the f***in' sun goes down.

- I understand.

- I don't wanna, Bobby.

- Right.

- Not in the mood for no f***in' bullshit.

Getting old.

Everybody... gets old...

till they die.

That look familiar?

Long time.

You've been with me a long time, Bobby.

What the f*** else am I gonna do?

- Where you going?

- To call him equipment shed.

Stay in the car!

I said, stay in the goddamn car!

Hands on the wheel, eyes straight ahead.

- If you'll just...

- Are you listening to me?

- You're doing 90,50-mile zone.

- I'm in a hurry.

That's a hell of a hurry. You got something

peculiar making you go that fast?

- I do.

- Let me see your registration and license.

Slowly. OK? Slowly.

- Wanna tell me what it is?

- I work for James R. Hoffa.

What the hell are you saying?

- OK. Go right ahead.

- Thank you.

I said nobody gets in.

F***'s the matter with you?

Someone waves a name in your face?

- Who the f*** are you?

- Who the f*** I am is not important.

I am here with a message

for somebody who's in there.

A message from James R. Hoffa.

I was instructed to...

I said nobody in. Nobody in.

I said I don't care.

I don't care who you work for.

Screw this bullshit.

Throw this f***in' dago out of here.

This is my f***in' club here, OK?

- I told you, nobody gets in.

- I'm sorry.

- I don't care who the f***in' guy works for.

- You're gonna f***in' care!

- Down the stairs. Down the stairs.

- Are you insane? Get this guy off of me.

We're going in the back.

We're gonna look for a fella.

I was told he was here.

Six feet, black hair, fella from Detroit.

- All I got is a message for him.

- You're dead.

You're gonna be in Sheepshead Bay

tonight, you guinea bastard.

You know who my friends are?

You are f***in' dead.

Open the door.

You know what this cocksucker did?

F***in' goombah comes in here,

puts a gun to my head...

Give me your piece.

Give me your piece. Cut him down.

Cut this f***er down. Cut him down.

I'm sorry to intrude.

I came here. I was sent by someone.

I didn't wanna mention names.

I was instructed to give a note to you.

- I'm very sorry you were put through this.

- Well, sorry is... Thank you.

Sorry ain't enough.

This is my club here.

- Guy comes in, puts a gun to my head...

- Hey, I'm not talking to you.

Now, this man is like a brother to me,

and this man should be treated with

the same respect with which you treat me.

D'Ally...

Did he say he was here

for my friend in Detroit?

- He said that, yeah.

- Having said that, you told him what?

- To get out? That this is your club?

- D'Ally, I have...

I didn't know why it is that you'd wanna...

Thank you for making the trip.

I'm sure if there's anything you need here

in New York, Mr. Stein will be happy to...

D'Ally, on my knees, on my knees,

I knew this man was a friend of yours...

I'm sure if there's anything you need here

in New York, Mr. Stein would be happy...

Happy? I'd be honored.

Honored? I'd be delighted.

Whatever I can do for the gentleman.

Anything.

- Champagne, Solly.

- Champagne.

James R.? Nothing to it. The note

is delivered, the note is understood,

the message is thank you,

and I am in receipt of a package for you.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow night.

You want me to...

You can spare me that long?

Uh-huh.

Nothing separates me from you,

you know that, boss.

Thank you, boss.

I'm gonna see you Wednesday, then.

Thank you, boss. Right.

- Hi, Jackie.

- Bobby.

You wanna know what's in there?

A heart of pure f***in' gold.

I don't care. Give me wops.

You wanna talk about loyalty?

You wanna talk about honor?

Give me this dago right here, huh?

- Petey, get me a cup of coffee, will ya?

- Yeah.

- Hey, fits in there nice.

- James, R., you want the guy to continue?

- Yeah, all right. Go ahead. Bobby?

- Oh.

This is my dream. Thank you, Petey.

Wanna know what my dream is?

Huh? Fitz?

It's a dream of community for workingmen...

It's a dream of broken-down truckers

to drink beer, fart,

and lie about the waitresses they f***ed.

- That's right!

- A truck stop with a patio.

You wanna make retired truckers

feel at home?

Put a condom machine

in the wall of their living room.

That's a good idea!

Hey, Jerry, get me a price on that.

Don't strain yourself, Bobby.

Thank you. Give me that briefcase.

Put this in the safe, for fun.

Subpoenas from the McClellan Committee.

Loan policy.

- The loans are legit.

- All the Las Vegas loans.

- Record test fleet.

- Test fleet is legit.

- Kennedy and the committee.

- It's a f***in' vendetta.

These two little creeps

are riding into office...

- We have a subpoena.

- Forget about the subpoena.

The one thing you cannot do

is square off with the White House.

Square off with the White House?

Then they don't square off with me.

You follow me?

Don't tell me who I can square off with.

Don't use words with me.

Any man fucks with me...

- They have a subpoena.

- I say f*** the subpoena. F*** you, too.

Guy needed his brother elected f***in'

President of the United States to get a job.

You're a joke. You'd have been

a bond salesman somewheres.

You're the brother-in-law

they make jokes about.

I don't know what you're trying to prove,

but you're proving it.

I'm proving what?

You got nothing on me. You got a TV show.

The Justice Department

has plenty on you, Mr. Hoffa.

You don't impress me

and your office don't impress me,

and your family don't impress me.

Bunch of rumrunners.

And I don't need $300 million

and my brother elected President

to whop your f***in' ass,

you slimy little prick. I beat your ass,

that trumped-up charge down south.

I'll beat you again. There is

no organized crime in the Teamsters...

I am gonna see you in jail, Mr. Hoffa.

- For what? What'd I f***in' do?

- Your loans...

The pension fund

has the best record in the country on loans.

Bullshit!

- Best record in the country!

- Bullshit!

For the workingman. You ever heard of

work? You know what work is?

I want this man in jail, and I'm not

gonna stop until I see you behind bars.

Who in the f*** are you?

Who the f*** are you?

F*** you and f*** your threats

and f*** your brother!

- What did you say?

- You heard me!

What the f*** did you say?

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