♪ 1, 2, 3, 4 ♪
♪ this is my home a year ago ♪
♪ looking for a place to call my own ♪
♪ got nobody in the world, let's go ♪
♪ baby, I can dance ♪
♪ say good-bye, gonna hit the road ♪
♪ ooh, ooh, we ♪
Holy Moly.
When you asked your place or mine,
I definitely made the right decision.
Holy Moly?
I'm on my best behavior.
I'm sorry to hear that.
Did you know that a U.S. Marshal
makes less than 50 grand a year annually?
You being a baseball pitcher, you're making...
More than that.
You really think you can impress me
with your fancy car, fancy house, fancy looks?
I don't know. Depends on what you mean by Holy Moly.
One second.
What you doing, calling for backup?
[Line rings]
Walter: Who is this and how did you get this number?
[Beep]
Walter, I am officially invoking paragraph "c"
of our friends with benefits pact,
to which either party must suspend said pact
upon initiation of sexual relations with a third party.
Paragraph "c."
Someone broke into my house.
Stay here.
What? No. I'm the guy.
Ripped By mstoll
Son of a bitch got my trophies.
[Glass shatters]
He's still here.
[Glass shatters]
U.S. Marshal. Stop or I'll shoot.
Why didn't you shoot him?
Hard to explain a bullet in the back
of a fleeing unarmed man.
Thanks, Mr. Haywood. Big fan.
Thanks, detectives.
Think they'll find the guy?
I wouldn't hold my breath.
Damn it.
Did you have something very valuable in there?
- No, it's just... - Sentimental?
Yeah, a world title ring, a bunch of trophies,
the ball from my first no hitter.
Yeah.
You wouldn't happen to know any private detectives, maybe?
If you really need something found,
I know the guy.
You don't sound 100% on that.
He's... a little strange.
"World championship ring, Dick Howser trophy,
one signed baseball, framed rookie baseball card,
one glove, one full team uniform,
cleats", yadda. "Gym bag, necklace."
Is this everything?
That I noticed, yeah.
You're not telling me something. He's not telling me something.
What's he talking about?
I warned you.
Look, if you could find my stuff,
I'd pay you whatever you ask.
Both: Leo takes care of that.
You know, back in the day,
I was quite the accomplished pitcher myself.
Little league.
They wrote a story about me in the paper.
Of course, I was no Frank Haywood,
but who is?
I am.
Have you seen his fastball?
I was hoping to, but we got interrupted by a robber.
So you insist that this list includes everything that was taken?
Yes.
You're lying.
When you said that you were hoping to see his fastball,
did you mean that in a suggestive manner?
Walter, you have to start checking your messages.
Why?
Did you invoke paragraph "c" to this guy?
Yeah.
What's paragraph "c"?
Don't worry about it. It's not important.
Will you help or not?
Hmm. Not.
He's keeping something from me.
[Sighs]
What's paragraph "c"?
Walter and I enjoy a highly evolved
friends with benefits arrangement.
If one of us becomes serious about another person,
then we invoke paragraph "c".
You freaked out?
About him or the fact that you're serious about me?
I'll go talk to him.
Did you say no because of paragraph "c"?
I said no because Frank is a lying liar face.
That's the technical term.
What are you talking about?
I got no time for people who can't even be honest
about what they're looking for.
I have projects of my own, you know.
How can you be so sure Frank's lying?
Item number 13.
"One red and blue gym bag with white zipper
containing socks, underwear, personal effects."
And number 14.
"Trophy".
Who describes a gym bag down to the zipper,
yet doesn't describe the Dick Howser trophy?
What's a Dick Howser trophy?
It's the Heisman trophy of baseball.
It's a very big deal.
Look, point is,
there's something much more important to him in that bag,
but he doesn't want to admit it.
It's got to be drugs.
Gold bullion for hookers.
[Gasps] Frank's probably a coked-up sex fiend
trying to start world war III.
I detect a faint note of sarcasm.
Just do it for me.
Personal favor.
I'll do it.
For you.
But Frank is lying, and when I found out what he's lying about,
you're not gonna be happy.
It's a no-brainer.
There's nothing more anti-American
than the designated hitter.
Al-Qaeda is more anti-American than anything.
This country was founding on a celebration
of our individual freedoms.
The designated hitter puts the team's collective success
over that of the individual.
You can't bat? Oh, don't worry,
we'll just have somebody else do that part of your job for you
so we can all win together.
There's another name for that, Leo, communism.
Is it true that Frankie Haywood was here?
He's hot. Where did he sit?
Green chair.
You can't get anymore anti-American
than actually trying to destroy America.
Look at me. I'm sitting where Frankie Haywood sat.
Al-Qaeda's doomed to failure. They're hiding in caves.
Designated hitters walk amongst us as heroes.
It's subversive.
Let's go get Haywood's stuff.
I'm coming with you guys.
Shotgun. Absolutely not.
I can help.
She may come in handy
if we need to steal something.
Do you hear what you're saying?
Do you promise to steal only from thieves?
Yes.
There you go.
No, it's too dangerous. You're staying here.
It's for your own protection.
So what, you just want me to hang out here
and work behind the bar?
You aren't allowed behind the bar.
What is that?
It's an honor jar. You got to be kidding me.
No, it's great. People get their own drinks,
put cash in the jar.
Pour and pay.
Ajar?
You trust a jar more than me?
It's for your own good.
Think of it as an opportunity
to prove that you're a team player.
Professional sports is the modern-day equivalent
to Roman circuses,
created to distract the populous
from more important matters.
All professional sports?
Yeah. Except for baseball, football,
tennis, soccer, NASCAR, and hockey.
So golf?
Golf is not a sport.
Neither is origami.
Be careful! That's worth $800.
It's authentic.
It's not authentic.
That's a page from Michael Jordan's workout journal
written in his own hand.
Do you know a pitcher named Frank Haywood?
Are you kidding me? He's 16 and 0 against the spread this season.
Guy's got one of the lowest fips in the league.
Fips?
Fielding independent pitching.
And don't get me started
on his stupidly high strand rate.
A bunch of his collectables got stolen last night.
I don't deal in stolen merchandise.
I'm a changed man, Walter.
You owe me 800 bucks!
Michael Jordan was right-handed.
Whoever wrote this is a lefty pretending to be right-handed.
Oh, look at this. That looks kind of overpriced and fishy.
Very. Tell the man what he needs to know
or he will rip up every fake that you have.
Look, look, look. I haven't heard anything
about any Haywood stuff on the market.
If this happened, it's not any of the regulars.
My guess, an interloper in the game.
Who?
I'm guessing. Try the help. No, no, no.
The twins, ok? You didn't hear it from me.
Who are the twins?
Smash and grab guys.
Very disruptive, psychos.
You didn't hear it from me.
Where can we find them?
We didn't hear it from you.
Huh. So these guys are super criminals, right?
I mean, this is not a good use of my finder power.
I'm gonna need a crowbar and a hammer to open up this crate.
[Gunshot]
Are you the twins?
Yeah. Bitch, don't move a muscle.
At least we know we came to the right place.
You're the twins?
That's right. What do you want?
You don't look anything alike.
Really, Walter, that's what you want to discuss right now?
What do you want?
You stole some property from a friend of ours.
We're here to get it back.
What we steal we keep.
If you don't like it, you can die.
I'm sorry, I just don't see any resemblance at all.
Just because we're twins doesn't mean we're related, idiot.
We both are twins, just not with each other.
All right, well, where's your brothers?
You mean my sister.
You know what, just stab me.
I can't talk about this anymore.
Tyson, get him.
Get him, Tyson.
Gah! Aah!
Leo! Leo!
Leo! Ow!
Very efficiently done. Thank you.
Seemed easier than finding a hammer.
This is the big score? Plushy ducks?
We got sent after the wrong guys.
It kind of takes the fun out of all the punching.
You guys are dead.
You know what, you threaten too much.
You ever hear the boy who cried wolf?
Ow!
I'm sorry.
What's wrong?
Walter was right.
Is this about paragraph "c"?
I don't care about that.
Last season I fell into a slump.
I got in my own head, my confidence was shot.
I could barely get a pitch across the plate.
It was bad.
They were gonna bump me down to the minors.
Slumps happen.
And you turned it around, right?
Yeah. But I had help.
From who?
God.
Maybe Jesus.
It could have been an angel or a Saint.
Maybe the virgin mother.
Wow. You are really religious.
I started wearing my Saint Christopher medal again,
the one I got in my confirmation,
going to church.
I got myself right with Jesus again.
And the slump went away.
Within 3 weeks.
3 weeks. Jesus took his time.
That Saint Christopher medal was stolen.
I need it.
Look, trust me,
Walter will find your medal.
I promise you.
Come here.
I realize what's been bugging me.
Walter! What in the hell?
Now, any good thief knows a common deadbolt
like the one on your back door
is the easiest lock to pick.
I can't believe you just broke into my house.
With a paperclip.
If I can waltz in here with a paperclip,
what kind of thief would use a crowbar?
A stupid one.
Walter is saying it was amateur hour.
Oh.
I'm saying that this robbery wasn't about stealing.
None of this makes sense to me.
What was in the bag? Steroids, maybe?
That would explain your sudden career resurgence.
- No. - Walter.
Jesus helped him get over his slump.
Think about it, roids are a federal offense.
Now this thief knows your secret.
My advice, do not lie to Congress.
It's worse than admitting
to using performance enhancing drugs.
Wait. Are you being blackmailed?
No. You believe him?
There are no steroids.
Then how do you explain your gigantic head?
You're fired. Get out of my house now.
Roid rage.
Frank, listen.
Once you hire Walter, you can't fire him.
Why not?
Think about it like inviting a vampire into your home.
Well, that would have been nice to know
before I hired him.
Walter's not the cops.
So if something illegal is going on,
you should just tell him.
Illegal? I think it's time
for the both of you to leave.
Frankie, come on, we can talk about this.
Talk about this?
I just told you something deeply personal
and you believe this guy?
Maybe you two maniacs were meant for each other.
You can see yourselves out.
What?
Walter jealous? No.
Oh, so you think it's a coincidence
that he busted up me and the perfect man?
Perfect?
Successful, smart, charming, funny,
modest, reflective,
and religious.
- That sounds perfect. - Religious I'm ok with.
I didn't say anything.
Religious is within acceptable.
Look, I know you think I belong with Walter.
Walter didn't bust you guys up on purpose.
He's naturally disruptive.
You think I'm too ambitious because I work late,
because I'm trying to get my law degree at night.
No, ambition is personal.
You're driven by a sense of duty.
Because you were given the gifts of beauty and intelligence,
you feel you owe it to your sex and to your culture
to rise as far as you can in the world.
And for that, you need an appropriate man beside you.
Appropriate does not describe Walter.
No argument here.
You know, when I think of the kind of man
I want to spend the rest of my life with,
it's Frank.
Then why aren't you with him?
And don't blame Walter.
I gotta go.
Where?
To help Walter find what was stolen
from the perfect man.
That's Frank's house over there.
You see his chimney sticking up?
Isabel said that the robber came through these bushes here.
What's in the bag?
The equivalent of what Frank said was stolen.
We're gonna pretend like a hot U.S. Marshal
is chasing us with a gun.
- That's your plan? - Our plan.
1, 2, 3, flee!
We couldn't just pretend to carry the bags?
Haven't you ever heard the saying
to really someone you got to run a mile
carrying a heavy bag full of their junk?
Throw the bag now!
This is not science.
I tell you over and over,
finding is an art.
There we go.
Walter, why would someone steal a bunch of stuff
and then dump it in a culvert?
Method of entry shows he's a rookie.
Realizes he's being chased, panics and hides his stuff.
Isabel came to ask me if you were jealous of Frank and her.
He's perfect for her. I can see that.
Plus, me and Isabel, not that kind of relationship.
You're pretty sure the bag is in that culvert?
It's exactly the right distance from the house
to stop and listen, realize he isn't being chased,
and then turn on a flashlight.
What better place than a culvert?
How about a tree?
Huh.
I definitely would have went with the culvert.
Still smells new.
Come on.
Focus.
All right.
Oh!
Come on, stop thinking so hard.
Talk to me, Frankie.
You're pitching like I play golf. What's wrong?
Everything.
You are aiming for the plate, right?
Aw, don't tell me the slump is back.
I'm sorry, I was just joking. I'm a moron.
Hey, you got to joke, right?
This got anything to do with the lady cop?
I think I messed that up, too.
Wow. Ouch.
Mind if I ask her out?
You could try.
But she's had a taste of the star pitcher,
she's not gonna want no second-rate backstop.
All right, that's my guy, making jokes.
Forget her, forget the slump.
There ain't no such thing, all right?
- All right, man. Thanks. - You're welcome.
Hey, Frankie.
Today's your lucky day.
You found my stuff?
I can't believe it. Mac.
Everything on the list in here.
World championship ring. Dick trophy.
Dick Howser trophy. A little respect.
What, you're not a baseball guy?
Football, right? Hoops?
You looking for this?
Yes. Thank you, man. Thank God.
Why aren't you happier? Why isn't he happier?
Jesus will help him beat the slump.
Whoa. That's offensive, man.
Walter didn't mean to be offensive.
- It's ok. - It's not ok.
Give the man his Saint Christopher's.
Here's the rough, Frankie.
You throw the ball, I find stuff.
You did great. I said I'd pay you and I will.
Water under the bridge.
Walter's saying that a pitcher knows
when the ball doesn't go where it's supposed to go,
he knows when he didn't find what he's looking for.
And you are not looking for this.
All right.
Here.
Now, why don't you get off the field? We've got work to do.
He's leaving, Mac. It's cool.
Come on.
Why you don't all the talking, huh?
You spying on Frank for the owner?
Maybe another team?
- What the hell are you talking about? - Well, then this doesn't concern you.
If it concerns Frankie, it concerns me.
If it concerns me, it concerns him.
You're on your own on this one.
Sometimes it concerns him. He's not always predictable.
Perfect.
[Organ playing]
[Crowd cheering]
You're done here. Hit the showers.
Come on, Walter.
I'm not done yet.
You're throwing junk.
Checking culverts instead of trees.
Getting into a beef with the non-twin twins.
Plus, Frank means something to Isabel.
She asked you for a personal favor
and yet you treat him like you treat a normal client.
What, like a lying sack of crap?
People lie for a lot of reasons.
Some of them good. Hit the showers.
I'm just in a slump.
You want to stay in the game?
Maybe you need this.
That's my little league hat.
I couldn't play without it. How did you know?
Baseball's a thinking man's game.
Except it's not.
It's a game of superstitions.
And every ball player has one.
[Organ plays]
Oh, he's awake. He's all right. You feel ok?
There's nothing illegal in that bag.
No evidence, nothing like that.
No, what you really wanted me to find
was your good luck.
Yes, my Saint Christopher medal.
No, that's religion.
What you want is luck.
So what am I really looking for?
Fear's the main source of superstition.
To conquer fear's the beginning of wisdom.
It's stupid.
Come on, what am I looking for?
It's socks.
Yeah, I'm sure it does, but I'd still like to know.
No, Walter, he said "socks", not sucks.
Last year my career was basically over.
I couldn't find the plate.
And, you know, it got in my head.
90% of the game is half mental.
Exactly.
Well, my great aunt Louise patched up my favorite pair of socks.
- Next day. - No hitter.
Then 16 wins in a row.
I never even washed them.
What does dirty have to do with luck?
I didn't want to risk it. Would you?
You know what's lucky? Clean.
Hey, Leo. Little off point here.
Who else knows about the socks?
Me and my aunt Louise, that's it.
Ok. I'll find your luck.
Thank you.
Your disgusting, dirty, smelly luck.
[Rock music playing]
Thank you. Come again.
Hey, little sugar. Where's Walter Sherman?
Who's Walter Sherman?
We heard he hangs out here
with a really big black dude.
Do I look like a really big black dude?
[Music stops, electricity crackles]
You should not have done that.
Where's your boss?
You think I'm playing here?
We won't ask again.
Where's your boss?
I don't know. Out finding something.
Finding what?
Something to do with Frankie Haywood.
The pitcher?
Yes.
And he's paying millions for it.
If I were you, I'd let me go.
Why?
Because I'll call you as soon as they find it.
How do we know we can trust you?
Because you'll kill me if I don't.
We'll be expecting your call.
You disappoint us...
And we will kill you.
Got it.
I had already wiped down the tables
and, you know, swept and everything
when they came in, waving around a knife and gun.
What did they look like?
One of them was black and the other one wasn't.
I know it sounds like you and Walter, but I'm not being a smartass.
The twins.
There's no way that they were related.
It's complicated. What happened next?
I told them that you were looking for something for Frankie Haywood
and that when you found it, I'd call them.
Here's the number.
I told them that so they wouldn't hurt me.
They cleaned out the honor jar, too.
I'm sorry about your jukebox.
I don't care about the money or the jukebox.
You love the jukebox.
What are you thinking about so hard?
I'm thinking that maybe Walter is right,
we have to keep you closer to us.
Is this gonna hurt?
Hey, you want to be on the team, this is being on the team.
You ready?
Leo: Ha ha ha!
Little league champ, huh?
Congrats, you hit my warm-up throw.
Is this some kind of initiation?
Willa, would you hold still?
We're supposed to fight a consistent target.
That does not sound good.
All right, all our thief cared about was the socks.
Everything else he just ditched in a tree.
Frank said nobody knew about the power of his socks.
Our thief is someone who wanted Frank's team to lose.
Like a rival team?
A rival team would have just stolen the socks.
Yeah, our thief stole a bunch of other stuff
to throw us off the scent.
Not just us, the cops, the press.
Somebody wants Frankie to lose,
but they want to be the only one who knows he's gonna lose.
So who are we looking for?
Oh. Professional gamblers.
I don't want no more trouble.
You told the twins where to find us.
They roughed up our girl.
They threatened to break my legs.
Like that would make any difference to your life.
[Laughs]
Walter. Gambling.
Right.
What's the line on Frank Haywood tomorrow?
I don't bet on professional sports.
Well, you seem pretty comfy throwing out obscure statistics on Frank.
You know his record against the spread.
Is there any significant betting against Frankie Haywood?
Either from one person
or a large amount of anonymous small bets?
I'm sorry, I'm just happy to be here
and got carried away.
Now that she mentions it,
the line moved like crazy a couple of days ago.
I heard some nutjob laid down a million bucks on Frank to lose.
That's a risky move.
Mental, you ask me. Frank Haywood's on fire.
- Who's the better? - I have no idea.
I swear.
No decent bookie is gonna go around blabbing the names
of their big fish to small-time idiots like him.
She's right.
Except for the idiot comment,
which is unwarranted.
How do we find our high roller?
Willa could use her underworld connections.
You mean her family?
Yeah.
Give me your cell phone. I'll call Timo.
This is what Timo gave you?
Yep.
Our high roller's name is Marty Nix.
He runs an illegal floating casino
out of failed restaurants.
Yeah, my Uncle Shad came up with the idea.
Smart.
No, not smart.
Not something to be proud of.
So what's the plan? I think I should go inside and get the socks.
What? Don't ask the question and then answer it.
It's manipulative.
No offense, but they can be pretty picky
about who they let into these places.
Oh, but they're gonna let in an underaged girl?
I don't want to boast, but I'm very pretty
and I can get in almost anywhere.
That is not boasting, that's confessing.
I'll go. I'm very nimble.
I'm very strong.
I melt in the crowd.
I intimidate the crowd.
This is about stealth, Leo.
It's about slipping in and slipping out with the goods.
How about crashing in and crashing out with the goods?
You know she's gone, right?
Girl's got us both beat on sneak and stealth.
Not something to be proud of, Walter.
You selling girl scout cookies or something?
I'm here to play.
Get out of here. You're not old enough.
That's why I came here instead of a real casino.
Stay away from the door.
Ahem.
Also, you know Uncle Shad?
Well, he's my real, actual Uncle.
Easy, boy.
I mean, if we can't accommodate a beautiful teenager
with a giant wad of cash,
what's the point of running an illegal gambling establishment?
Please.
Oh, bingo. Winning.
We have totally different definitions of that word.
Can I offer you a drink?
No, thanks. I prefer a clear head.
I see you can count cards?
I just hit when I feel pretty.
I'll count for you. It's plus 5
since I've been standing here.
You haven't been standing there for that long.
I'm going in after her.
Give the kid a chance.
She's my responsibility.
Yeah, Leo, and it's about time you started
taking that responsibility seriously.
I beg your pardon.
You keep trying to make Willa live by the rules.
Yes, that's being responsible.
Willa Monday is never going to be a rule-abiding human being.
Both nature and nurture conspired against that ever happening.
Well, hope deferred maketh my heart sick.
I'm not suggesting you give up hope.
I'm just saying it's about time you forget the rules
and teach her the difference between right and wrong.
Best way to do that is to just show her lots of right and wrong.
It worries me when you make sense.
Yeah, well, I got punched in the head today,
so you got to take that into account.
I won't allow Willa to get hurt for a pair of socks.
Well, they're not just a pair of socks.
They're a lucky pair of socks
worth millions of dollars.
[Crowd cheering]
So I guess you're a big sports fan.
Not at all.
The kind of money these degenerates want
to bet on "American idol."
I let them.
As long as you get your cut.
Exactly.
I'm the kind of gambler who only bets
when I know I'm gonna win.
So what do they play in that room? I want in.
Sure about that, babycakes?
That's my private area.
Doing private things. In private.
Well, I'll be older and richer in a few hours.
Maybe we can revisit then.
In the meantime,
you should probably fire that dealer over there
who keeps dealing aces off the bottom
of his deck to his buddy.
It's got to be hurting your bottom line.
Baby's on fire.
Get him out of there. Take him out back.
[Cell phone rings]
Willa needs a distraction.
I have an idea.
That is one big dish.
If Nix bets on sports as much as we think,
it'd be shame if his cable went out.
Watch this. Good luck.
You don't need luck.
You just need to center yourself,
become both the projectile and the target,
wait for the exact right moment,
and...
Maybe you forgot to become the projectile.
Hilarious.
[All shouting]
Man: What the hell?
Ladies and gentlemen, everyone please remain...
Ooh. Hey. Sorry, babycakes.
Everyone please remain calm...
I assure you...
[Cell phone rings]
Willa, are you ok?
Yeah, I got the socks. I'm coming out.
How profoundly disappointing.
Oh, crap.
Willa! Willa!
Maybe the smell of the socks knocked her out.
Eh, probably not.
[People screaming]
[Shouts]
Oh, nice follow through.
Leo!
Not me, man. Him.
I got to get me one of these.
Nice work.
Ten to one you drop your magic wand
before I pop Taylor Swift in the liver here.
Walter, are you watching the door?
Yeah. Doesn't really matter, though,
'cause everybody else is dead.
Are you familiar with Sun Tzu?
Yeah, "Art of War" guy.
I'm asking the well-dressed gentleman with the gun.
Which is pointed at me.
Sun Tzu said, "Build your opponent a golden bridge
to retreat across."
You want me to retreat?
Yes. You can simply walk away.
I don't think so.
I'm the son of a bitch with the gun.
Which is pointed at me.
Sun Tzu also said, "If you are far from your enemy,
make him believe you are near".
[Grunts]
Uhh!
All right. We got a game to catch. Come on.
Where do you think you're going?
Really?
I didn't call them, I swear.
They must have followed us.
Hand it over.
Or die.
Hand it over. Or die.
You don't even know what we have.
We know it's worth a lot money to Nix.
Yeah. You take it from him, we take it from you,
and sell it back to him.
That's a good piece of business.
Yeah. Right?
You killed my jukebox.
I loved that jukebox.
I don't care. Just hand it over. All of it.
Yeah, whatever it is.
It's socks.
You think we're gonna believe
you knocked over an underground casino
for a pair of socks?
Hey, you know what, don't judge us.
It's nix who thinks they're worth a fortune.
[Gunshots]
Ohh!
Wow.
That is why I do not like guns.
Gross. Are we gonna get blamed for this?
No, all the witnesses will agree
that a black man and a white man attacked the casino.
Let's get out of here.
What about the socks?
Leave them. They're not worth anything.
Did we leave the socks because the pitcher is sleeping with Isabel?
Walter wouldn't do that. Right?
Right.
We left them because they were the wrong socks.
They didn't reek of 16 games worth of stinky pitcher feet.
We wanted stinky socks?
Also, they were worn symmetrically in the toes,
not asymmetrically the way a pitcher's socks should be.
Do you know what any of that means?
Yes. It means someone besides great Aunt Louise
knew about Frank's lucky socks.
Someone still has the real pair.
Someone who wears out his socks in the toes.
[Crowd cheering]
OK, I'm here. What do you want?
Nice new socks you're wearing.
What is this?
There's a unique bond
between a catcher and his pitcher.
You're in sync.
You know everything about each other.
That's how you knew to steal Frank's lucky socks
even though he never told anyone about them.
Catcher who can't read his pitcher never lasts.
You've been together since the minors.
I didn't steal nothing. Ok?
Frank and me come up together. He's my best friend.
That makes you the worst kind of Judas.
Well, not the worst kind, Leo.
He did go through the trouble to sell Nix a fake pair of socks.
That way you could give Frank back his lucky socks
right after today's game.
Nobody gets hurt, ok?
Bunch of scumbag gamblers.
We lose one game.
Speaking of scumbag gamblers,
how much you owe Nix?
100 grand.
Told Nix about the socks.
We lose the game, he wipes my debt.
Otherwise, the usual.
Where are the socks?
I tell you, Nix is gonna have my kneecaps busted.
In my locker.
Let's go get them.
Fine. I'll... I'll take the kneecap.
It's better than breaking Frankie's heart anyway.
Nix is dead.
You're off the hook.
Walter, you found the socks as promised,
but who says Frank needs to know where you found them?
What are you saying?
He'll feel a lot luckier if he knows
his friend didn't betray him.
Yeah, it works for me.
Go get the socks, we'll give them to Frank.
I owe you two. Seriously, you ever need anything,
I'm your guy.
I just can't think of anything.
I like those box seats. Make him bring some box seats.
Box seats, O'Malley?
[Organ playing]
Hey.
Did you find Frank's lucky socks?
- Yes, I did. - Nice.
Where?
Be better if you didn't know.
Why?
Are you protecting me from Frank?
'Cause if you know something awful about him, you have to tell me.
I'm not trying to protect you from Frank.
I'm trying to protect Frank.
Frank needs protecting?
Don't give me cop face.
Friends don't give friends cop face.
So somebody that Frank cares about stole the socks?
It's got to be his best friend, the catcher, right?
Notice my p-p-p-poker face.
Why don't you return the socks to Frank?
Because you are the client.
I thought this was a personal favor to you.
You're feeling bad about driving a wedge between us.
You're giving me the chance to make up with him.
Walter, you're being sweet.
You're the client.
Leo's gonna be expecting you to pay up.
Thank you.
You're welcome.
This is so gonna get me in good with the perfect man.
If I can't help you find a perfect man, who can?
Relax. I'll put it all back.
I just borrowed it for a stake in Blackjack.
Borrowing without asking is a theft.
And keeping winnings from an illegal casino is racketeering.
Tell me one thing I did that was wrong.
[Chuckles]
What's funny?
You rushed into that casino
while we were busy arguing.
It turned out ok.
The ends don't justify the means.
Pretty sure they do.
Yeah. If my math is good,
I'd say you're holding back
at least a grand in casino winnings.
[Coins jingle]
There's what I held back.
50 cents? Where's the rest of it?
Jeez, trust much?
Buy yourself a song on the jukebox.
[Jazz music playing]
Is that the game ball?
Yep.
Frankie's got 17 wins in a row.
Historic.
Lucky socks?
Maybe. Maybe it's Isabel.
And you're good with that?
Well, he's a perfect man.
Of course I'm good with it.
[Engine starts]
Hey, Leo. Can we have a moment?
So Frank broke up with me.
What?
Our whole paragraph "c" thing
totally freaked him out.
I mean, Walter, this is a guy
whose entire career depended on a pair of socks.
Religion I can deal with.
God, faith, it's not my main thing,
but it's good.
I respect it.
But socks?
I mean, come on, his whole life falls apart
because he lost a pair of socks?
I cannot be with a guy like that.
I'm confused.
Didn't he just break up with you?
Yes. Over a completely rational arrangement
between two consenting adults.
Then why are you talking like you broke up with him?
Because that's the way it works, Walter.
When a woman gets dumped,
she finds reasons why she's glad.
Ok, I got it.
Well, I sort of see his point
about paragraph "c".
What?
No, I'm ok with it. You know that.
But a lot of people just don't like it
when other people are so rational about their sex lives.
What do you propose?
We could...
opt for a more conventional arrangement.
Huh.
I see your point.
Why don't you continue?
We see each other in a, um...
Monogamous manner
till we don't want to do that anymore.
How's that different from paragraph "c"?
Well, there'd be no paragraph "c".
Oh.
I know you are more comfortable
when the rules are etched out in stone,
but sometimes you just got to take your chances and wing it.
Messy.
Yes. But fun.
Like sloppy Joes.
Let's go hammer out the details over mojitos.
You know me very well.
Ripped By mstoll