War Dogs Page #2

Yeah, everyone was totally bummed out.

But I ran into my friend from growing up.

The guy I told you about. Efraim Diveroli?

The one you got arrested with?

Yeah. I mean, we did

some other stuff too, but...

Anyway, he just moved back to Miami.

That's great, right?

Yeah. I'm supposed

to swing by his office tomorrow.

We're gonna grab lunch.

- Okay.

- Are you hungry?

- Hmm?

- I'm so hungry.

- We don't have much here.

- Oh.

- I mean, we have pizza.

- Really?

- And nachos.

- We have nachos?

And ice cream.

Wait, what? We never have ice cream.

You're f***ing with me, aren't you?

That is so mean.

That was so easy.

Hello?

Hello, Mr. Borstein.

This is David Packouz.

You told me to call today at 11:00.

I have those bed sheets with me,

and I would love for you to take a look.

Uh, sir, if you give me the chance

I am confident that your residents

will appreciate the difference.

It's an expense we can't justify,

and we're just not interested.

Uh-huh.

Okay, well, thank you for your time.

Yeah, this is contract specialist

Lindsey Michaels

from Army Command, Picatinny.

That's right.

Yeah, I sent out a solicitation

for some 249s for Basra

and we seem to have

misplaced your paperwork.

Great. So if you can go ahead

and just re-email me those numbers.

Actually, you know what?

On second thought,

we're about to make

a decision on those RFPs.

Why don't you go ahead

and just give me your bid

while I got you here on the phone?

Uh-huh.

And does that include mags?

Great. Yes, sir.

You keep supplying the guns,

we'll keep killing the bad guys.

God bless you.

What a f***ing tool. What's up, bro?

Yo, what's up, man?

What was that all about?

Oh, that was me

impersonating an army officer.

Really? What for?

To find out what my competitor's

bidding on a contract.

It's f***ing genius.

I thought that you said you sold,

like, seized weapons

to gun nuts on the Internet.

Not anymore.

Now I only sell to one gun nut.

Oh, yeah? Which one?

The U.S. Military, motherf***er.

Wanna do a bong hit?

Pretty sick, huh?

So what, you sell these things

to the Pentagon?

I sell all kinds of sh*t to the Pentagon.

Guns, bullets, body armor.

Last week, I shipped 400 gas masks

to American Special Forces in Iraq.

No sh*t.

How long you been doing this for?

Two, three months.

And you make good money?

Oh! F***, man.

Put it this way.

I did over 200K in the past eight weeks.

And I'm only telling you that

because you're my boy.

I'm not bragging.

Holy sh*t.

Yeah. Check this out.

Fed Biz Opps stands for

Federal Business Opportunities.

Think eBay, but for war.

- They buy tanks on here?

- Bro, they buy everything on here.

It was crazy.

The government had a public website

containing every military contract

currently up for bidding.

But I skip the big ticket items,

and look for the small-ball sh*t

that giant defense contractors ignore.

Everybody's fighting over the same pie.

But they're ignoring the crumbs.

I live on crumbs, like a rat.

And when you're dealing with the Pentagon,

crumbs are worth millions.

These listings

seemed to go on forever.

And according to Efraim, they did.

Thanks, man.

So, I don't get it.

If there's an entire defense industry,

why would the Pentagon

want to buy anything from you?

They don't want to, they have to.

Remember Little League?

How, at the end of the season,

they'd give out that big MVP trophy

and that one kid would always win it?

Yeah, Evan Talbot.

Right. But then, one year,

somebody's mom complained?

Then they had to give everybody

a little trophy so they wouldn't feel bad?

Even that fat retarded kid,

Robbie Friedman, got one.

That's kind of like what's happening here.

I'm still confused, man.

The Pentagon f***ed up

when they were rebuilding the Iraqi Army.

They gave all these no-bid contracts

to Cheney's boys, and they got caught.

So Bush started this initiative

to level the playing field

and now every Pentagon purchase,

every gun, every grenade,

every bullet, gets offered to

small businesses for bidding.

And sure, the big dogs

still get the big trophies.

But the Pentagon's

got to give little trophies

to all the Robbie Friedmans of the world.

So, basically, you're a fat retarded kid.

Bro, I'm the fattest and most retarded.

In a speech today,

President Bush said that

contrary to reports

he has no plans to attack Iran.

The President said, "That's ridiculous.

"We didn't even have plans

when we attacked Iraq."

David.

Yeah?

Remember a few weeks ago, in the car

on the way home from my mom's house?

Yes. Yes, I do.

Well, this happened.

How the f***

are you going to feed a baby?

Have you even thought about this?

What are you going to do?

Jerk men off the rest of your life?

Yeah, that's the plan.

I'm gonna feed my kid by jerking men off.

Sorry.

Okay, good. Well, at least

you thought it through.

It's not funny.

Dude, I am so f***ed.

I think you should come work for me.

What are you talking about?

Seriously, I need the help.

David, look at me.

Bush opened the floodgates in Iraq.

It's a f***ing gold rush.

That's really nice of you, Efraim.

F*** nice! Who cares about nice?

I've been looking to bring

somebody on for a while now.

The problem is, I don't trust anyone.

But you're my boy.

I mean, no offense,

but I'm against this war.

Me and Iz are going to rallies

and signing petitions.

Yeah, dude, I'm against the war too.

I f***ing hate Bush.

But this isn't about being pro-war.

The war is happening.

This is about being pro-money.

The more Efraim talked,

the more it made sense.

Besides, compared to my other prospects,

this was the chance of a lifetime.

My only issue was, what would I tell Iz?

I think it's a great idea.

So I lied.

You know I've always

believed in this business.

I told her that Efraim

had great contacts in the government.

And instead of selling bed sheets

to penny-pinching retirement homes

we'd now be selling sheets

to the free-spending,

overfunded U.S. Military.

It's genius.

I had to lie. Iz hated the war.

She had two cousins serving in Iraq.

She also hated the mountain of bed sheets

that were taking up half our apartment.

I spent the next six weeks

in a crash course on arms dealing.

The Herstal 556 light machine gun.

Belgian, but made under license

in lots of places.

When it came to this sh*t,

Efraim knew everything.

Makes, models, weights, where it was made.

Remember, there's been an arms embargo

against China since Tiananmen Square.

And if there was

an angle to be played,

he knew about that too.

You have to read between

the lines with this stuff.

All the money is made between the lines.

I'd spend my entire day

scouring the government's website,

searching for overlooked contracts

that we could squeeze our way into.

Hey, I think I got something.

Hey, Georgia, I gotta call you back.

And then,

in the middle of the night

we'd be back in the office,

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote