Trading Places Page #7

I will but you won't...

...Winthorpe.

- See if this one's empty.

- Hey, back off.

I'll rip out your eyes

and piss on your brain.

- Excuse me.

- You got it.

All right. On your feet. Up! Let's go.

Bunch of f***ing weirdos!

We're going to take a little walk.

Don't try anything funny

or the whore loses a kidney.

- No, I'm from Sweden.

- Beat it.

Hey, I'm King Kong,

the biggest, baddest guy in the jungle.

Get lost, you maggot.

Hey, who is that guy,

your father or something?

All right, hold it right here.

- Honestly, Beeks.

- This is as far as we go.

No more cockamamie cigar smoke.

No more Swedish meatballs there, tootsie.

And no more phoney Irish whisky.

No more goddamn jerky beef.

The party's over.

The party's over. Hey, come on.

What do you mean, "The party's over"?

It's not even ten o'clock, you dummy.

Hey, come on. Loosen up, man.

It's almost New Year's Eve.

Hey, look what happened to me!

Sometimes, they look so human,

it gives you the creeps.

Boy, that other one's

getting kinda horny, ain't he?

Think we ought to hit him up

with the tranquilliser gun?

It's New Year's. Let 'em have their fun.

That black one must be the female.

- Where is he?

- Beeks. Are you there, Beeks?

I'm over here.

That's far enough.

Did you get the report?

Let's see the money.

OK, toss it over.

Thank you, Beeks.

Wonderful news. Wonderful.

Beeks, Happy New Year.

My life savings. Try not to lose it.

Lose it? In a couple of hours, you're going

to be the richest butler that ever lived.

I worked real hard for this, Louis.

Hope you know what you're doing.

- Thank you, Ophelia.

- What are you doing?

10:
31...

That's us, Louis.

Coleman, would you please.

Thank you.

I could use a stiff drink.

Would you care to join me?

- Morning, Mr Duke.

- Wilson.

- Good morning, Mr Duke.

- Wilson.

Keep the change.

Think big, think positive.

Never show any sign of weakness.

Always go for the throat. Buy low, sell high.

Fear, that's the other guy's problem.

Nothing can prepare you for the unbridled

carnage you are about to witness.

The Super Bowl, the World Series.

Pressure? Here it's kill or be killed.

Make no friends and take no prisoners.

One minute you're up half a million,

the next, boom.

Your kids don't go to college

and you've lost your Bentley.

We've got to kill the motherf***er...

We've got to kill them.

We want you to buy as much OJ

as you can, the instant trading starts.

Don't worry if the price starts going up,

just keep buying.

They'll broadcast the crop report

in an hour, what if...

Let us worry about that, Wilson.

Yes, sir.

- How's the ulcer, Harry?

- Pretty good. How's the hypertension?

Hasn't bothered me in months.

Let's kick some ass.

This is it. The last

bastion of pure capitalism left on earth.

Here in New York they trade everything,

gold, silver, platinum,

heating oil, propane, cocoa and sugar

and, of course,

frozen, concentrated orange juice.

The people on the phones are taking

orders from brokers all over the world.

The runners hand those

orders to the traders in the pits.

They're trading cotton over there.

And that's the silver pit.

The Dukes' trader is going to be

buying like crazy right from the opening.

We wait until he drives the price up?

Right. I can't wait to see his face, when

they broadcast that genuine crop report.

OJ trading opens at 9:00.

- Let's go kick some butt.

- Let's go.

Hey, hey. The Dukes

are trying to corner the market.

- They know something.

- Let's get in on it.

200, taken.

- 130.

- 200, 200.

Louis.

Not yet, almost.

- 220 taken.

- 209.

- Yeah, yeah, got 'em.

- 139.

Now!

Sell, 200 April at 142.

That's not right.

How can the price be going down?

Something's wrong. Where's Wilson?

What are they doing here?

- They're selling, Mortimer.

- Why, that's ridiculous.

- Unless that crop report...

- God help us.

I told you we shouldn't have

committed everything, you a**hole.

We've got to get Wilson and tell him to sell.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the Secretary Of Agriculture.

Ladies and gentlemen, the

orange crop estimates for the next year.

After calculating the estimates from

various orange producing states,

We have concluded the following...

The cold winter has apparently

not effected the orange harvest.

...consumers can expect

orange juice prices to fall...

Wilson, for Christ's sake, sell.

Buy 'em.

Wilson, where are you going?

You idiot. Get back in there at once

and sell, sell.

- Five.

- Yeah, 200.

- 100.

- Yeah, that was 100.

Did you get that?

Happy New Year.

- Winthorpe.

- Valentine.

- How'd you make out today?

- How could you do this to us,

after everything we've done for you?

Oh, see I made Louis a bet here.

Louis bet me that we couldn't get rich

and put you in the poorhouse.

He didn't think we could do it. I won.

I lost.

- One dollar.

- Thank you, Louis.

- After you.

- Certainly.

Margin call, gentlemen.

- Why you can't expect...

- You know the rules.

All accounts to be settled at the

end of the day's trading, without exception.

You know perfectly well,

we don't have $394 million in cash.

I'm sorry, boys. Put the Duke brothers'

seats on the exchange up for sale at once.

Seize all assets of Duke & Duke

Commodity Brokers,

as well as all personal holdings

of Randolph and Mortimer Duke.

We're ruined!

This is an outrage,

I demand an investigation.

You can't sell our seats. A Duke has been

on this exchange since it was founded.

We founded this exchange. It's ours.

It belongs to us.

We'd better call your brother

an ambulance.

F*** him!

I want trading reopened, right now.

Get those brokers back in here.

Turn those machines back on.

Turn those machines back on.

You and your Nobel Prize, you idiot.

Where's Beeks? Where in hell is Beeks?

- Beeks!

- Yeah, I forgot all about that guy.

OK, one male gorilla.

Wait a minute.

There's two of them in that cage.

One gorilla, two gorillas. Big deal.

Whole bunch is getting sent back to Africa.

It's a big scientific experiment.

What do I know? Anyway, they're in love.

- Hey, Coleman.

- Yes.

What about lunch?

The lobster or the cracked crab?

- What do you think?

- Can't we have both?

Why not?

- Dimitri.

- Sir.

- Lobster and cracked crab for everyone.

- Extra prima good, Mr Coleman, sir.

Looking good, Billy Ray.

Feeling good, Louis.

English (en)

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