The Con Is On Page #2

---

Looks like she's

having trouble at home.

Perhaps we should

pay her a visit.

No, no. Don't get

distracted, darling.

You leave Jackie out of it.

'Course.

[snorting, exhales]

[jazz music playing]

- How many have you had?

- Four. You need to catch up.

Four martinis, please.

I hope seeing Sidney

isn't the extent of your plan.

How the hell are we gonna

pay Irina back?

Any ideas, mate?

I can always get in

on some games.

Are you insane?

- What?

- My wife has a gambling problem.

The problem is

she's no bloody good.

And tell me one thing, my sweet.

Hmm?

Why does she hate you so much?

And it's not solely

because of the cash.

There's some other reason.

I want to know what it is.

- Oh, you do, do you?

- Yes, I do.

Let's say she had

a little crush on me.

[drink sloshes]

Do you mind? This happens

to be a private conversation.

And when was this?

Oh, years ago.

You didn't know me then.

I was in Monte Carlo

doing some charity work.

Charity work? In Monte?

Do you want to hear

this story or not?

Carry on.

[lounge music playing]

[Harry] I was raising funds on behalf

of a large charitable organization.

Irina was engaged

in a similar activity,

and we decided

to fundraise together.

We made a good team, and we

worked together tirelessly.

Day and night, actually,

raising money for the orphans.

[exhales]

[Harry] We persuaded people to

make some very generous donations.

But sadly, she was

rather difficult to work with.

After Monte Carlo, I didn't plan

on seeing her again, and I didn't.

Until Istanbul.

[tanbur music playing]

I had no idea she'd be there.

I was taken

completely by surprise.

[man] Well, you didn't

seem too upset to see her.

Not from where I was sitting.

[Harry] I had no clue

they were setting you up.

Oi!

[man]

I went to jail for three months.

Harry!

You utter tart.

She's not after you

solely for the cash.

She's pursuing you

with romantic intent.

I don't know. It's possible.

What's the difference, anyway?

- Well, I'll tell you, my sweet.

- Hmm.

It's called "taking one

for the team," remember?

- Well, it's your turn, now.

- Oh, no. It's not possible.

- And why not?

- I couldn't guarantee your safety.

She can't bear

that I married you.

She wants you dead.

Eh?

Mmm. That's why

we've got to pay her back

and stay

the f*** away from her.

Forty f***in' grand

ain't gonna get us far, is it?

- It's a start.

- It's a drop in the ocean.

Oh, yes. Of course.

- [man] What?

- [Harry laughs]

Yes. Yes, yes.

- What, what?

- Time to visit that b*tch you married.

You do realize I still owe her for bailing

me out of that jail you landed me in.

Not to mention the ten grand

I borrowed last time I saw her.

She won't remember that.

I mean, this time

it could be an emergency.

You could need a new kidney.

How much do those go for?

Maybe it's heart surgery

or a brain tumor.

[man] There she is. The whore of Basildon.

Jackie f***in' Harlow.

When I married her, she was

Tiffany Wheeler from Essex.

Actress/chatroom whore.

You were an idiot to marry her

in the first place.

I was off my tits.

It was the longest

three days of my life.

Eventually, she abandoned me in

some nightmare called Tenerife.

Darling, I'm going to

get my nails done.

- [Harry] Is that the husband?

- [man] F***in' weirdo film director.

- [Harry] Successful?

- [man] Very.

Hans?

There's dog poo everywhere,

and I don't want the gardener

to have to clean it up.

- Can you do it? One, two, three.

- [Harry chuckling]

Oh, dear, bless.

[Harry] We need to call her,

arrange a meeting. Lunch, dinner.

- Get us invited to the house.

- "Us"? Don't you mean me?

- She f***in' hates you.

- What? She's never even met me.

Fine, you call her.

[man] Well, the last

time I called her,

she threatened

to phone the police.

All right, all right.

Maybe it's better

if we bump into her casually.

- [engine revs]

- [thump]

- F***.

- [gasps]

F***.

White bubble. White bubble.

[exhales, voice cracks]

White bubble. White...

F*** it. F*** it.

F*** it.

F*** it! Why don't you watch where

you're f***in' going, you...

Hi, Jacks.

[laughing]

Peter! Peter!

Oh, my God, I've missed you.

Sorry about that.

Oh, don't worry about that.

That's just a scratch.

My God, what are the odds?

- I know, right?

- I mean it must be fate or destiny or...

Yeah,

something like that. Yeah.

Oh, yeah, sorry. Come by.

We had a wreck.

So what are you doing in LA?

Oh, you know, hiding out

from gangsters and that.

[chuckles]

- Are you alone?

- Oh, yes, quite alone. Yeah.

Where's that crook you married?

[Peter] You mean Harry?

Well, we're, you know...

She's left you again?

Well, thank God for that. Let's

hope it's for good this time.

Now listen, Peter.

You should come by

the house tomorrow.

You and I

really need to talk.

Oh. Yes. It's new.

- Do you like it?

- It's, um...

It's beautiful, Tiffany.

- Gabriel bought it for me.

- Oh.

Atonement for his sins.

He must've been very bad.

Yes. He was.

He was very, very bad.

Oh.

- It's just a ring.

- Didn't need it.

- Wouldn't miss it.

- Didn't even seem to like it.

How much do you think

it's worth?

A small fortune,

I should imagine.

Certainly enough

to pay off Irina.

You deserve this, darling.

- I do?

- Alimony.

Compensation

for being married to her.

- True.

- Yeah.

- True.

- It is.

Too bloody right.

Hello, there. I'm Sandy.

I'll be taking care of you guys

this evening. How are you doing?

Well, a few seconds ago, I was fine,

but now I'm feeling rather depressed.

That's awesome.

So our philosophy is this:

we're a farm-to-table

restaurant,

it's all small plates,

and we like to share.

Well, we don't.

So, two very dry vodka martinis

with a twist, please.

God, I love you. You're a

bloody genius, you are.

Here's to you,

my little thief.

Oi, Sandy. Sandy.

Where's our f***in' martinis?

[lighter opens, clicks]

Now, when you're in the house,

make an excuse to leave her.

Do a little reconnaissance.

Figure out where

the bedrooms are.

Find the exits,

that sort of thing.

Right. So, get in there, get the

ring, get the f*** out of here.

Pay Irina back and Bob's

your uncle, get it?

- Got it.

- Good.

Well, give us a kiss

for good luck.

You don't need luck. I have

complete confidence in you.

- Now, don't f*** it up.

- Right.

Looking for Jackie.

Oi!

[echoing]

Jackie!

Jackie. Oi!

[whistles]

Hey!

This is my safe room!

This is my safe room!

Out!

Out! Out, out!

F*** me, it's Gina.

Surprise surprise.

Look who's back.

Let me guess. Broke? No credit?

Bailiff's at the door?

Abandoned by your criminal wife

in some foreign jail?

Stop me when I'm getting warm.

Unstable?

Medication's not working?

Mine is. Now.

- Where's Jackie?

- You're looking for Jackie?

You're looking for Jackie? You're

following crumbs, crumpet?

Where's Jackie?

Where's Jackie?

Jackie?

Jackie!

Jackie!

Jackie!

She's downstairs.

All right.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes