Swingers Page #5

The dealer has a two showing. Mike has been dealt a five and

a six- eleven.

TRENT:

(hushed tones)

Double down.

MIKE:

(even husheder)

What?!?

TRENT:

Double down, baby. You gotta double down

on an eleven.

MIKE:

I know, but...

TRENT:

You gotta do it.

MIKE:

...but that's two hundred dollars.

This is blood money...

TRENT:

If we don't look like we know what we're

doing, then we may as well...

Everyone's waiting for them.

MIKE:

I know.

The dealer, the pit boss, and all the players look on as Mike

drops ANOTHER BLACK CHIP in the circle with a barely audible,

yet deafening, thud.

MIKE:

(with all the nonchalance he

can muster)

Double down.

A bead of sweat.

The sharp snap of a dealt card.

It's a seven. Eighteen.

Disappointment twists their faces.

Finally the dealer flips over his card.

It's a king! Twelve. Here comes the bust...

Flick - four. Sixteen! Here comes the bust...

Flick - five. Twenty one. Groans all around, except for the

swingers who watch their chips slide away in silence.

Mike breaks the spell with a plucky smile from the pit of his

stomach.

MIKE:

(to the pit boss)

Sure could use some dinner about now.

SMASH CUT TO:

Trent and Mike are wedged between the BLUEHAIR and the BIKER

At the FIVE DOLLAR TABLE. They share a pile of red chips.

TRENT:

I'm telling you, baby, you always double

down on an eleven.

MIKE:

Yeah? Well obviously not always!

TRENT:

Always, baby.

MIKE:

I'm just saying, not in this particular

case.

TRENT:

Always.

MIKE:

But I lost! How can you say always?!?

In the meantime, the Bluehair has been dealt an eleven.

This captures the swinger's attention.

BLUEHAIR:

Hit.

Four. Fifteen all together.

BLUEHAIR:

Oh... I don't know... Hit.

Two. Seventeen. Dealer has a seven showing.

BLUEHAIR:

What the hell- hit.

Four! Twenty one.

DEALER:

(with a warm smile)

Twenty one.

Polite applause from around the table which the Bluehair

humbly waves off. Mike looks at Trent. Daggers. Trent

shrugs.

A different PIT BOSS approaches.

PIT BOSS:

Would you care for some breakfast, ma'am?

BLUEHAIR:

Well...? No, I shouldn't. Maybe later.

Thank you, though.

MIKE:

(to Trent, under his breath)

I'm gonna fuckinkillyou.

CUT TO:

14 INT. TREASURE ISLAND CASINO - CASHIER'S WINDOW - NIGHT 14

Mike is presented a stack of twenties by the CASHIER, who

counts them out. Trent looks on.

CASHIER:

...eighty... one hundred... one hundred

and twenty dollars. We hope to see you

back on the high seas soon.

(polite smile)

Mike throws her a disgusted look, then turns to go. Trent

struggles to cheer him up.

TRENT:

What's that? One twenty? You're up

twenty bucks, baby.

Mike throws him a disgusted glare.

TRENT:

... Well, you know, not counting the

first table.

MIKE:

Thanks for clarifying that.

TRENT:

Hey, man, I'm down too, you know.

MIKE:

Yea, how much?

TRENT:

I don't know, what? Thirty, Forty maybe.

MIKE:

Don't give me that sh*t. You know

exactly how much you lost. What'd you

drop?

TRENT:

Twenty... but I was down at least fifty.

I'm sorry, I got hot at the crap table.

MIKE:

You won. There's nothing to be sorry

about. You're a winner. I'm the f***in

loser. I should be sorry.

TRENT:

Baby, don't talk like that, baby.

MIKE:

Let's just leave.

TRENT:

Baby, you're money. You're the big

winner.

MIKE:

Let's go.

TRENT:

(condescending)

Who's the big winner?

Mike looks away, shaking his head in disgust.

TRENT:

(lifting Mike's reluctant hand

from the wrist like a boxing

champ)

Mikey's the big winner.

MIKE:

(shaking his head to hide a

smirk)

What an a**hole.

TRENT:

Okay, Tee's the a**hole, but Mikey's the

big winner.

The same WAITRESS from before approaches the swingers as they

are about to leave.

WAITRESS:

There you two are. I walked around for

an hour with that stupid martini on my

tray.

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