Traders Page #2

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Just say,

"sorry for your loss."

- Good.

- Okay, yeah. Good.

L'll-l'll say that.

Sorry for you-

sorry for your loss. Sorry-

- men cause trouble.

That's a fact.

Maybe women are

complicated and emotional,

but proper

"f*** the world up" trouble,

that's all down to us.

But Vernon's brand of trouble...

Wow.

No one could have

seen that coming.

- ...per cent,

or the 99%?

What are you worth?

If you emptied

your back accounts...

- How was the funeral?

- Yeah, yeah,

really good, actually.

Alright, thank you.

- Are you going to tell me

anything about this

business idea of yours?

- Huh-um, well,

it's all a bit hush-hush

at the moment, mum.

- Vernon?

What are you doing here?

- Looking for you.

I've got a really exciting

business opportunity

to tell you about.

And I brought some beer.

- Two months earlier

if Vernon had called around

to my apartment,

i wouldn't have asked him in.

- C'mon in.

- But that day, well,

he had a business plan

and some beer.

I like beer,

and I needed a plan.

- Oh, what a cool place, Harry.

It must have cost a fortune.

- You don't know the half of it.

Here.

- I've been thinking about

what you said, Harry,

about Chuck difford,

the guy who doubled

his money in Vegas.

- I'm pretty sure that's

not a true story, Vernon.

- Thanks.

- Cheers.

- Cheers.

- What are you downloading?

- It's just some router software

that you're gonna need.

Now, don't worry, it's free.

I'm cashing in on econocide.

One person empties

their bank account

and sells any expensive

stuff they may have,

turns it all into cash, okay?

- Okay-

- another person does the same.

Everything you own

translated into cash

and put into a green sports bag.

- Why a green sports bag?

- It's just one of the rules.

I've been writing

the rules for days.

Anyway, they go to

somewhere remote,

dig a grave,

and fight to the death.

The winner buries the loser,

walks home with

two bags of cash,

double your money.

I've called it trading.

- Fight to the death?

- So this is your new business?

- Yep.

- Murder?

- It's not murder.

- It sounds a lot like murder.

- It's two consenting adults

entering into a business deal.

- Where one kills the other.

- Yeah, but like a duel.

- Jesus Christ!

- Do you remember

that German guy

who found someone online to

come to his house and eat him?

- Yeah.

- This isn't as mad as that.

- What would your life

be worth in hard cash?

- Don't tell me, Vernon,

you didn't put this

all on the website?

- Course not!

This is crypt layering,

deep web like what

pedophiles use.

- Alright.

Pitch is over.

- Double your money, Harry.

Think of Kevin.

Much better odds than

driving your car into a tree.

- Jesus, are those

your winnings?

- No-

no, this is my stake.

- Did you expect to

come here and, what,

we'd kill each other?

- No-

only one of us

would have to die.

- Get out.

- I'll find someone, Harry.

Trading is gonna be massive.

You can keep

the rest of those beers.

- Vernon was a guy

i used to call

for tech support at work.

Now he was suggesting

we kill each other for cash.

It was f***ing nuts.

But then again,

if he was serious,

someone was gonna get

that bag of money easily.

- If you emptied

your bank accounts

and sold everything you own,

how much would your life

be worth in hard cash?

Not enough to last

you a couple of months.

If you become a trader,

you're seven trades

away from a million.

Give me those.

Get a move on, pal.

You'll never get home

at this rate.

Where are you?

I don't have the new safe code.

So what do I do with the money?

Just leave it here

in the office?

I don't know why you have to

keep changing it all the time.

1142?

N'

outta here for the weekend.

See you Monday, d*ckheads.

- It was like a sign.

Like a greater power saying,

"here's four thousand eight

hundred and twenty-three quid

in condom and tampon sales.

Now what are you

gonna do with it?"

- Find someone on the website

with a similar sum to trade.

Arrange a meeting,

and you're all set.

You're seven trades

away from a million.

- Hello?

- It's Harry.

- Oh, hi, Harry.

- I might be interested.

- Oh, great.

- It has to be Saturday.

- But that's tomorrow.

- I know.

- Oh, okay.

No-no, yeah-yeah,

look um,

I'll pm you a location.

- Fine.

- Put the cash

into the green sports bag.

9.8% of all sports bags

are green,

so the bag will act

as an identifier

but one which will go unnoticed

by members of the public.

Arrange to meet in a

quiet pub during the day.

- What can I get you?

- Eh, a sparking

mineral water, please.

- And make sure you're happy

with the bona fides

of your fellow trader.

- Vernon had described

trading as a noble duel,

even though every trade

started in a stinking toilet.

- Where's your green bag?

- Oh, forget the bag.

I've got the money,

that's why we're here, isn't it?

- Did you write a suicide note?

- Is that really necessary?

- Yes.

There's less chance of people

coming looking for you

if they think you've

committed suicide.

Write one now.

Go on.

Good.

But, say that you

drown yourself.

We don't want people looking

for the loser, do we?

- Hey, what are you doing?

- Checking for guns.

There's no guns allowed.

They make too much noise.

- I don't have a gun, Vernon.

- Give me your phone.

- Why?

- Why?

GPS tracking, Harry, that's why.

And switch it off.

- Travel together

to an isolated location,

making sure to avoid any

unnecessary attention.

- Pick a number.

- Eight.

- Okay.

We cross the road and

double back to that bus stop,

the first bus that comes we go

for eight stops, then change.

- Vernon was really

proud of his rules.

Even though he was

planning to kill me,

he wanted to show me

how to trade properly.

So we took the 14

for eight stops,

then the 78 for five stops,

then the 65 for three stops,

until we were sure no

one was following us.

- Dig a hole 3 feet deep

by 6 feet long,

and commence trading.

- This is good, isn't it?

Here you go.

The ground is very hard here.

- This isn't really gonna work.

- Well, we could go

somewhere else,

somewhere easier to dig?

- Look, I do need the money,

but...

This is murder, Vernon.

- Harry, we can't go this far-

- I can do anything I want,

and I've decided i

don't want to do this.

- You're a coward.

- Maybe.

Ah!

F***ing hell, Vernon!

I told you I don't

want to do this.

- It's too late...

- You've agreed to trade.

Knives are allowed.

It's in the rules.

Ah!

- You little f***er.

I told you I've changed my mind.

- Ah...

It wasn't supposed

to go like this!

- Yeah, well, it did.

- Ah, my shoulder!

My shoulder!

No, no. No, no, no, no, no,

please don't kill me!

Don't kill me!

Take the money.

You win.

- There are decisions in life

you know you'll live to regret.

"Ah!

Ah!

- Not killing Vernon

would be one of those.

- Hi, I'm big John,

lead EMT on six tours,

tox haz qualified,

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