tick-tock.
your mess.
my place.
oh please.  miles non-chalantly pulls a sawed off shot gun frown under the bar. miles you think this kinda shit hasn't happened here before? given it's usually on thursdays. and usually, i gotta tell the cops, "no, officer.  i didn't really get a good look at the shooters." usually anyway.
you sure we're clear?
you guys were late. we had to go to a mexican stand-off.
keeping the city streets safe for drug dealers and pedophiles everywhere. jake starts taking the money out of the briefcases. gordo strips out of the jacket and shirt, revealing a thin white vest. a wire runs from a battery pack on his belt, up the center of the vest, ending at a scorched, bloody, explosive squib. gordo drops the vest along with a plastic bag containing fake blood. a nasty bruise on his chest marks the spot where the squib was.
it's clean. gordo disappears dawn the back hallway.
twenty? my ass!
cops.  cut to:
you better get over to al's. now.
i was supposed to meet him for breakfast. he likes that new ihop they just opened, you know.  he likes to order that thing. the rutti-tutti-fresh and fruity thing they got.
sorry. i'm just.  look what they did to him. right in the middle of his egg- foo-young. big al stares up at them with those bulging, vacant eyes, his mouth hanging open. jake reaches down and grabs the remote control and turns the tv off.
who's that?
what's a king pin? gordo looks to jake, but can see that he's still processing the information.
so what? we hide, right?
you're pissed we didn't get credit?
we sure big al threw him to us?
just an idea, but let's just fucking split. we'll meet up anywhere. akron or austin or atlanta. anywhere.
we're going to give him the money back?
coffee. and a valium. jake turns his attention out the window. cut to:
fuck that. we're going too.
how do you know the king's going to let you walk?
you better hurry. the police will be here any second. i don't really understand my motivation with this. why am i washing glasses?
wait a second.  who's the mope?
so we gotta short con our way out of a hundred and fifty grand? that could only take like, a year.
what do we need another shill for?
is it just me or is there something really hot about a girl telling you to go fuck yourself? gordo gives jake a nod of approval and jake takes off after lily. cut to:
why?
i'm with jack lalane. that guy's untouchable.
this might just be me, but that is hands down, the dumbest fucking idea i've ever heard.
yeah, or d, it's a dumb fucking idea.
we never had a problem with that before.
what are you talking about? yes we have. and we would have been beautiful about it. we would've had a bucket of chicken delivered to the king with a nice kiss my ass card attached to it. then we woulda moved on `til the next local putz caught on.
yeah, well we're still a little young for albany state prison. are you pissed about al? i'm pissed too, but i' m not like "twenty-five to life" pissed.
am i the only one who feels like we can't make a move with this guy on us?
he doesn't like using a bathroom unless he knows it's clean.
is it all fugasi?
michelle strigo. loan officer. miles points out a woman crisply dressed in a suit, michelle strigo. they follow her down the street.
jay houlser. vp international finance. miles points out a jay housler, a young guy in suit. they follow him.  cut to:
alice tanner. finance director. miles points out alice tanner, a mousy looking woman in a bad skirt. she gets to the intersection and waits for the light to change, even as hordes of others jaywalk the way new yorkers do. freeze frame on alice-- a cgi sign appears: "single woman looking for opportunity. plays by the rules and willing to claw her way up to middle management."
grant ashby. vp of corporate loans. miles points out a grant ashby, a schlubish middle aged balding guy walking down the street. they follow. cut to:
you sure? jake watches ashby do the crossword puzzle alone.
where the hell is she? just then, a knock on the door. jake opens the door to reveal lily, dressed in an expensive business suit and sporting a sophisticated cut of new red hair
it's not like she's a real redhead, jake.
but the best part was that he couldn't find gordo! he was in the bathroom. so he finally goes in there, kicks in a stall door and starts yelling! and there's gordo, pants at the ankles, holding a pc world magazine! more laughs.
wow. we haven't met with anyone your level yet. vp? so that means there's you, then the p.
i gotta work off some of this adrenaline. i got a line on this pawn shop guy over in brooklyn. anybody want in?
what do we do? we change the scam?
escorts!
he should be landing in the caymens about now. the custom's guy is ready right? jake stares off into space, absentmindedly flipping a penny in his hand.
and we got rid of the red head. jake considers.
jake? customs? jake just nods and continues flipping the penny. jake
jake! i don't know what's going on! the king pin.  he's here and he just got pinched. i think with the twinkies! it looks like half the police department's down here! in the background, a whirlwind of activity-- red and blue flashing lights, half of the police department, federal agents in blue windbreakers.  the king and harlin slumped over the hood of the car, cuffed. cut to: