All language subtitles for Billions - 6x01 - Cannonade.WEB.en

Previously on Billions.

Axe swallowed it.

He actually closed on that money.

Where does that leave us?

It leaves you head down,
eyes forward doing good work,

earning returns for the firm.

Pull him out of there!

I'll give you two
billion walk away money

for Axe Holding, the bank,
and the asset management arm.

I hope when this all calms down

and you really look at it and me,

that you won't even want to leave.

But the thing of it is we can't,
even if we want to, right?

Anyone who wants to get wealthy,

rich in your language, can stay,

and we can discuss your place
in the new organization.

- I'm out.
- Yeah. This place...

I'm out of here too.

Run.

If I see you here again,
it'll be to my benefit...

but I hope I don't.

This company,
formerly known as Axe Capital,

belongs to me now.

Now, you're my problem.

And you know what I do to problems.

- I get rid of them.
- No.

I got rid of the guy in the chair.

Now how we know this to be true?

'Cause I'm the one sitting in it.

Not for fucking long.

Follow me.

Yeah!

Hold fire!

That cannon has fired its last salvo!

_

You'll be so centered
in the office today.

You're in the zone, huh?

That's the idea.

Focus.

Detachment from all else.

That Buddhist shit.

If I can only put everything...

right here.

Right at the tip of my consciousness.

Then you are gonna make
hella good ice cream.

Then I'm...

maybe can work myself out of my...

Don't think.

- Just do.
- Ah.

There's that Buddhist shit again.

Good? Need a break?

When I ask for a break,

you'll know the body
snatchers have taken me over.

Good, now use your head.

Sex. He's having sex.

Could he just be having sex?

It's him we're talking about.
It's probably sex.

That would look... different, I think.

But I'm not a doctor.

And as a non-doctor,
you're diagnosing heart attack.

Well, I can't diagnose.
The not-doctor thing.

Suggesting. Declaring.

Somewhere in that spectrum.

Because this...

is what a heart attack looks like.

These readouts look as alike
as the Van Arsdale twins.

When you pull out those
'70s basketball metaphors,

it does force me to listen.

I reserve them for maximum impact.

Yes.

So, then, we have to make the call.

I'll admit, it's the right thing to do.

If you can save a life, you save a life.

- That's the kind of thing I...
- Yes.

And I know you mean it. But...

even at the cost of
exposing what we're doing.

I'm going to leave
that question lingering

so you can hear it and answer yourself.

Damn.

Once you said heart attack,
you knew we'd intervene.

But now our cover's gonna be blown.

Maybe in the all the hubbub,
they won't notice.

Make the call.

What the fuck are you guys doing here?

Are you strippers?

Because great, but...
not until I finish my...

We're not strippers, sir.
You're having a heart attack,

- we're here to...
- I'm doing a Peloton class.

With Tunde.

So I don't have a heart attack
keeping up with my girlfriend.

She's young.

I liked you better when
you were strippers.

We were never strippers.

Sir, how's your jaw?

Now that you mention it,
a little like Ali after Norton.

And... uh,

if I'm being honest, the breathing's

a little... tight. Huh.

Mr. Wagner, I implore you,
take this aspirin

and let us get you down to an ambulance

before it's too late.

Huh?

It's alive!

Wags!

That is something to see right there.

Rumors of my demise...

I mean to say,
it is fucking great to be back!

So glad to see you.

So, so glad.

I was worried.

Yeah, I got that
from the 40 texts a day.

But like I said,
it's a small heart attack.

Mild as Babybel cheese.

Stents are in.
I'm not going out like Mr. Big.

How'd you know it wasn't just
indigestion or something?

I always wonder if I'd know.

You were weaned on olive
oil and rustic red wine.

Better chance of you being
knocked off in a barber's chair

than from the ticker exploding.
But no, I didn't know.

So what made you call the ambulance?

Come to think of it, I didn't.

This is a listening tour.

I listen. You talk.

- Then I give someone else a chance to talk.
- _

But first, take this.

All of you are gonna get one.

The Nimbus. A buddy's startup.

You're holding that ring
out there like it's Frodo's.

In its own way,
it has the same kind of potential

for life extension and
to improve our community.

This'll track your sleep,
your resting heart rate,

your BEWAT and ICHS and other vitals

in the name of well-being
and productivity

so that you can measure you.

We've found the mind/body connection

a key difference maker.

Use this for a month,
check in on yourself,

see if you don't agree.

When you say, "use this,"
is that like, uh,

"if you choose to use this,"
or "you have to use this?"

I'm not here to give you orders today.

It's just...
I don't think I want to wear it.

I will become obsessed with
not disappointing myself.

I will end up working out even more.

Eating even less.
Actually, that sounds great...

- Gimme that, please.
- Good.

Look, I know this place used
to operate in the red zone.

I don't do red zone.

So talk to me.

Ain't ratting or being ratted on.

I'm not really interested in being

the Big Pussy of this place.

Never ends well for the Big Pussy.

Dollar Bill never said
nothing like that about you.

No one's getting capped because
of something someone said.

As Ness said to the Chi-Town cops,

"What you've done before
today is not my concern.

But now we must be pure."

I'm getting my arms around this place,

so this is your chance
to shape that bundle

that's gonna be in those arms.
So, let's begin.

Everyone knew to be here for this.

I'm here. With bells on.

Set my alarm and everything.

Taylor comes and goes as they wish.

Wherever they are in the world,

they produce results.

Kind of like how Dwayne "The Rock"

can show up late to a film shoot

because his movies always do,
like, a billion dollars.

Guys like Winston

need to spitshine their shoes

and stand at attention to get noticed.

I like your loyalty.

And agree, Winston showing out like this

is what the Navy SEALs
would call "butt snorkeling."

But when I announce
an all-hands, I need...

I know what you need.

Or what you claim to need.
Bracing honesty.

But when people say that,
what they really want is

someone to tousle their hair
and tell them, "good boy."

I have neither the hair
nor the need for approval.

Besides, I'm asking about what was,

what should be, not what is.

Not your judgment of me.

You are the very thing I am judging.

My judgment of you crowds all
other discernment I might have.

I'm gonna work hard
to shift that judgment.

That's on me now.

I don't think that can happen.

Just tell me what you
need to succeed here.

A boss I can trust and work with.

I'm not Axe.

You're sitting in the same office.

You own what was once his.

For different reasons.
I need faster returns

and greater liquidity than
private equity provides.

To that end, I want to make
you Chief Investment Officer.

How's that for trust?

Yeah, that means you trust me

and want to use me to win
over the investors' trust.

But I won't take that position.

Last time I was CIO,
all my moves were wiped off the board.

Like I said, I'm different.

And I'm willing to put
the time and effort in

to prove that to you...

to everyone here.

You bought me up.

You're kind of forcing me to stay here.

Doesn't feel different.

Hello, neighbor.

- Good day, sir.
- Good day to you.

Boy, this is...

some magnificent spread.

Something that's been
in the family for...

Well, it was in the family years ago.

And now, once again.

My great-great-great
-great-grandfather

- built those stone fences...
- Ah.

...and hid behind them,

firing his musket at the Redcoats.

Hmm.

Yeah.

You'd think a place this grand,

it would suck up the sound.

But it's a funny thing
about gunpowder and sky,

one offers little
resistance to the other.

That's the thing about a cannon,

nothing much offers it resistance.

That's why I have such
regard for their power.

Well, that's why I'm here.

The artillery.

For one thing, uh, we share a stream,

that I irrigate my fields with,

and when it comes to
black powder residue

and leaching metals...

- I'm downstream of you.
- Mm-hmm.

- So you are.
- Hmm-hmm.

Then there's the noise.

It's really jarring and unsettling.

And I'm not a dairy outfit,

but I do have a milk cow,
and she's sensitive.

She won't give milk with all
the bombs bursting in air.

Well, I'm sorry to hear your
Guernsey's teats are swoll...

- She's a Holstein.
- That's...

A smart man once said,

"Nothing external affects how you feel.

You control how you feel."

So I say this,

"When you hear the sound of the cannon,

why don't you hear what I do?"

The sound of liberty,

of triumph.

Of America!

You can make yourself
process it that way.

Hmm.

Seems like an awful lot of work.

Work...

is how I made the fortune

that's allowed me to
possess this place anew.

Work is what men like me...

and, I assume, you, are made of.

Sure. No, I'm familiar with
the bromides of the self-made.

The work-is-the-tonic types.

Perhaps you could do me the courtesy

of just limiting the
number of times a week.

It's strictly limited.

Morning and nightfall.

- I'm a constitutional scholar...
- Ah.

Not as a vocation, like you,

but as an avocation.

And the amendments to
that vaunted document...

Oh, I'm ahead of you.

Yes, I know which amendment
you're so keen on.

Well, thanks for the visit.

Mind Mr. Frost's words
about good fences.

Ah, the neighbors worked together

in Robert Frost's "Mending Wall."

The point is wholly...

Whatever.

I didn't come looking for a war.

Well I, on the other hand,
have always regretted

I didn't get a chance to fight in mine.

Former culture wasn't a problem for me.

New one won't be either.
I'm not like these weak-knees.

You're not talking about me, are you?

I hope you don't think
my knees are weak, they're...

Well, he's not fucking
talking about me, dude.

Let's start with this.

There's no shame in being sensitive.

You need to be.

One of the secrets to
being a great investor

is recognizing the impulses
that might lead you

to make decisions based on emotion.

If you're not training
yourself to recognize those,

your subconscious will
just be directed by them.

Thank you!

Now you won't have to go the bathroom
when you want to cry, Tuk.

Once! One time and...

What was encouraged was more of a

"Stick your emotions
where your conscience is,

"and then tie
'em off like a gangrenous leg

"until they wither and die.

Then chop 'em off forever."

What effect do you think that had?

Greased the way to profit.

Take the friction out.
For guys like me and Bonnie.

And led to some pretty
close calls with the SEC,

the U.S. Attorney's Office, the...

Never convicted! We were...

I mean, Axe was, sort of, in absentia.

We're going on a different
kind of exploration here.

Because I believe it'll
lead you to be better,

not worse, at your jobs.

We used to work for a killer,

now we've got a guy who
wants to know how we "feel."

Why is he asking for our guidance?

Why doesn't he know what to do?

Point me at a hill,

tell me to take the hill.

That's what I want in a general.

I must admit,
Axe's ruthlessness was almost...

reassuring.

This might not be salvageable.

Maybe we just take the
joint down to the rivets.

- Start over.
- Nah.

We can turn it around.

Can't we?

Turn it around?

Can you?

Well, if anyone can guide me there,
it's you.

You're the magic sauce, aren't you?

Special sauce. Magic touch.

I don't get nervous.
You make me nervous.

Like you can see through me.

That's a good technique.
But you're not nervous.

And you said "magic sauce" on purpose

to give me the power
in the conversation.

What do you want with me?

I wanted to see if you were
that good. You are.

That's very much up
for debate right now.

Not with me.

I look at my results,

and I don't see a lot of
checkmarks in the win column.

My guy lost this whole place.

Guy hits 700 home runs,

but gets caught bringing
a corked bat to plate,

you can't blame yourself
without also taking credit

for the 700 dingers.

The one matters more than the other.

On that, we agree.
You'll find no pine tar, no cork,

no dented garbage cans,

no signs stolen here.

Okay, Mr. October.

But I'm not settling either,

for my current level of performance.

And here's one you
probably didn't guess.

I've never been coached.

Not since I was an athlete, I mean.

No therapy, no executive coaching,

no shrink, no life guru.

But with you...

Nah, there is no "with me."

If I can somehow still
do what I used to,

I can't do it with
someone unless I have,

or can manufacture, objectivity.

You weren't objective with Axe.

Yeah, not so hype about his name

coming out of your mouth.
There's no need for that.

And how I felt about him
has nothing to do with

how I feel about you. I...

well, I didn't resent or hate him.

Hate? Ouch. Hate feels extreme.

How else should your
prisoners think of you?

You're not a prisoner.

You signed an employment contract.

So did a certain musical
genius you share a name with.

Didn't stop him from writing
"slave" on his face.

Technically, once he did that,

he was The Artist
Formerly Known as Prince.

And, look,
I bargained for your services,

but I would never keep you
here against your will.

So I can leave and work at another fund?

Oh, we're not there yet. You leaving?

We're still getting to know each other.

Investors are clamoring for a meeting.

- Which ones?
- All of 'em.

I'm holding them at bay,
but you've got to give them

the new manifesto by the end of the week

or they're going to peel off. En masse.

Should we sound him out about it?

I just don't see the point.

So you've said,
but the institutional knowledge...

So you've said.
But isn't he someone who's

stuck around too long, like...

Hit me with a ref.

Like Jan-Michael Vincent in Hangfire.

I'll have to trust you.

Believe me, it wasn't pretty.

Even if I wanted to get rid of him,

- the buyout makes it...
- Popping a zit

is painful for a moment.
But then, you're blemish-free.

Yeah. If it cost me 80
million bucks to pop a zit.

You sound a little
sorry we made the call.

- So we make him want to quit?
- He has to.

Or has to get fired for cause
for us to get out of the deal.

He'll get the idea
without us doing anything,

as soon as he sees he has
no influence here anymore,

no portfolio, no life.

Why do you want to give me
this only to take it back

after you fire me at the end of the day

or week or whenever it
is in your calendar for?

There's no date for that
in the calendar right now.

Your institutional knowledge...

If you shitcan me before
you hear everyone out,

you think there'll be a revolt.

- We aren't rushing anything.
- Uh-huh.

When do we charge this puppy?

Self-charging.

You wear it 24/7.

To bed. When you work out.

They put drones on our fingers, people,

to watch our every move.

Grip 'em and rip 'em!

It's always the fucking nice guys.

Is there GPS on this thing too?

I like the ring, but not how he did it.

Invasion of goddamned
privacy is what it is.

Spying on us?

We can't have invaded your privacy.

You invited us in.

Each of you gave permission
when you launched the app

- and clicked agree.
- Everyone always just clicks agree.

- You tricked us!
- Not everyone, Tuk.

I put mine on my dog's
collar the night we got 'em.

I paid a marathoner
friend of mine to wear it.

- Forty-four BPM, baby!
- You should've told us.

Those tech geeks only
care about themselves.

Not even.

It's each for his own from here on out.

Shouldn't you get in the middle of this?

It's good for them to let it out.

- Hello?
- Come on in.

Mr. Mayor, I'm...

I know who you are.

Word went around when you
bought your land for your...

sabbatical.

Not a sabbatical.

Just... still the AG.

Just working from the farm for a while.

The air out here, you know?

The clarity.

What matters becomes clear.

What are you working on there,
a buck tail?

Moose May.

Blackfly season's brutal around here.

Least I can do is land
some trout thanks to 'em.

Mr. Mayor,

how is it a resident can
fire off military-grade,

albeit antique, weaponry?

Ah, you're talking
about Melville Revere,

a prominent and beloved resident.

Well, having commemorative
cannonry isn't a violation

of the National Firearms Act.

It is if it's operational.

Well, he also has
a state firearms license.

He's a wealthy man with lots of lawyers

and "friends in high places,"
as they say.

And he has a special waiver
from the ATF to use them.

Imagine a private citizen with all that.

Mr. Rhoades, you should know,

Stony Gorge is a quiet hamlet.

It'd be a hell of a lot quieter
without all that ordnance.

We mind our own business here.

Town has learned to live with it.

I suggest you do too.

Allow me to stand a
round of John Barleycorn

for my new friends and neighbors.

- Hear, hear.
- Thanks.

Hmm-hmm.

Great.

Is it just me,

or does it feel like
we're living in a war zone

around here at dawn and dusk?

Ah. I guess he's, uh,

one of your own,

so you hold him close.

What he is, is a stuck-up prick.

Well, I know this:

If anyone else was
firing field artillery,

he'd be locked up.

So how's he getting a free pass?

Fire department needed a
new ladder truck last year.

Guess who bought it?

Police department needs new gear,
he ponies up.

- Same with the Little League.
- And with the Boy Scouts.

No one will line up against him.

It's too dangerous.

- And could cost too much.
- Hmm-hmm.

So he's buying indulgences.

Yeah, but he pays in cash.

I'd really love Chuck to
have a look at my opening.

I'll take a look at it.

My judge, he worked for Chuck. Can he...

I know him from Southern.
I'll touch base.

I'm handling all matters, Chuck.

_

Okay. Now I need to do
some real listening.

To you. Bottom-line it.

Biggest issue.

You have investors who are wary.

You're a long-hold player in a
high-vol game all of a sudden.

They'll get more and more restless

as you find your footing in
this hedge fund landscape.

In order to keep the investors,

we need to win the employees.

Right. Which, I think, is in motion

to the extent that we
know how to reach them.

But neither of us yet have
rhythm with this bunch.

Not our kind of folks,
on the face of it.

- But in this game...
- They are the best.

Which is what the investors count on.

But the way they've always done it

puts us at risk going forward.

As discussed,
we won't allow that stuff to happen.

Correct.

And I've tasked the back
office with yanking out

the odd remaining bad tooth
to turn over to the SEC

so the new company can start fresh

and with trust.

Because the place as-is,

the Commission's not gonna like it.

Speaking of bad teeth.

We need a full compliance report.

Can do.

But once I hand it over,

you're in it, responsible.

That's how it has to be.

What's this?

This is a little filing system
that I've just implemented

to separate out our trades

based on how far over the
line of securities law

each transaction was.

You know we need a little red meat

to throw the SEC,

something so they know we're committed

to being a clean operation.

Then this is your meat locker.

All that...

is dirty?

Got those books you asked for.

Also a bunch of stuff from the
office for you to look over.

You handle it.
Better for your development that way.

Uh-huh.

- I think I'm developed.
- Hmm.

The line troops would
love to hear from you.

- Whenever your sabbatical...
- Nope, not a sabbatical.

This clean air gets a person thinking.

- That's what I'm doing.
- Okay.

I will handle the work
stuff while you think.

- How long do you imagine...
- Until

I figure out how to
actually get something done

from that chair behind my desk.

You've known me a long time,

and you know I don't shy from battle.

But pointless battle?

It's not my jam.

Neither is losing, being thwarted,

or spitting into the wind.

So, I'll be back

when I see a road to victory.
And likely not sooner.

- I'll get to it.
- No. Later.

First you can stay and
have some hunter's stew.

Nah, not in my diet.

Have a seat, Ms. Sacker.

You can pick around the meat...

and I could use the company.

Email just hit from Melville Revere.

I know the name.

Investor we inherited from Axe Cap.

Oh.

Mr. Revere's cannonballs
and gunpowder got wet?

The shed where he stores
his ammo was flooded

by a stream he shares with a neighbor,

so he couldn't fire off
his morning blast.

Not a phrase I use often, but...
white people problems.

Truly. And why does he
think our little depository

can help with this particular problem?

His neighbor is Chuck Rhoades.

Revere thinks Rhoades flooded him.

And he knows Wendy works here.

He thought the ex-wife would step in?

Talk sense into Chuck?

He thought that since
we manage his money,

there might be incentive
in that direction, yes.

Did Wendy feel so incentivized?

You know how in, like,
old Andy Capp cartoons

when the character curses?

She let out a stream of
pound signs and asterisks?

And alphasands.

What we now call the "at" sign.

The verbal equivalent.

- Nice.
- Here's the not-nice.

We have to help Revere
deal with Chuck Rhoades.

- You do.
- I'd rather not.

No, of course not.

But we need the story going around that

we are satisfying our investors.

Going the extra mile or two.

Now is the opportunity for us

to get positive word of mouth flowing.

I'd do it, but...

you'll do it better.

Alphasand.

Look at you,
out here in the fenland and fields.

So, you've become
a modern day Cincinnatus,

leaving matters of the
state for the plow.

I merely needed a break.

A recharge.

I imagine you feel there's
unfinished business with me.

But I'm unlike the man
who came before me.

I will never give you a legal opening

because I do not break the law.

Billionaires break the laws of decency,

even while obeying the letter.

By definition,
having that much is criminal.

A point much open to debate.

But I can be your ally.

I know I owe you a debt.
I'm aware of that.

But you should be aware that I am good,

very good, at settling scores.

And what have you come to ask,

in order to deepen that debt?

- Melville Revere.
- Oof.

Disagreeable sort.

Entitled in a way I've long tolerated,

but no longer can.

All the same, I'd appreciate it

if you left him alone,
spared him further harassment.

He's a Michael Prince Capital investor,

and as such,
I'd hate to see him in court

on the other end of one of your actions.

Wouldn't look good for you or me.

Why not good for me, Michael?

I mean, you'd be coming
after a place that manages

your father's money.

Good chunk of it, anyway.

He left it in after Axelrod took off.

But, sure, worse for me.

Because when it comes
to Michael Prince Capital,

I need it to be...

I need to be

reputationally pristine.

I find myself unwilling to help you.

And when it comes
to your client, Revere...

you hold his money,

you hold the whole bag.

It's not Cincinnatus you're
fashioning yourself after,

I get that now.

It's more Manius Curius Dentatus.

"I see no glory in having money myself,

but in commanding those that do."

I'm less interested in speaking Latin

than in speaking the truth.

Safe travels.

You outta breath?

Walking and talking.

Walking...

and talking.

Rolling calls.

What do you want, Sonny?

Who are you talking to?

You, Sonny.

Why, I'm talking to you.

Well, that's right.

Only you're listening.

And what you need to hear is

take your money out of
Michael Prince Capital.

Oh, that fella is sharp.

Of mind and body.

And I'm riding along

expecting some sweet returns.

But thanks for checking in.

It really is ideal habitat.

But I don't see any evidence
of actual habitation.

Mm-hmm. Ah, ah. Look. Look it.

Now look.

Those are shell fragments
from his cannonballs.

Could this have something to do with it?

It could, but who knows?

There just aren't any bog
turtles in this area...

Hey, hey.

Hey, hold it right there, all right?

- This is private property.
- For sure.

I'm the neighbor.
My property's right over there.

Sir, I'm well familiar
with the property line,

and you're over it.

Kindly return to your own land,

or the authorities will be called,

and Mr. Revere will press charges.

Copy. Roger that.

Gotcha. Sure thing.

Will do and a pleasure talking to you.

So tell me about the projects
near and dear to your heart

that could use a little
funding thrown behind them.

Just back from what I call,

"El Commish," the SEC,

and thanks to my magie...

Glad you sent me with him.

It wasn't that easy.

They slapped us with a
six-month probationary period

due to red-flagged ongoing
business from before,

especially with ongoing
investors still aboard.

They want to send a message.

But like I was saying,

thanks to my magie, there were no fines

or sanctions,
merely a brief interlude...

Unacceptable.

If we want the Street,
the financial press,

and the investors to stay with us,

we need to be clean. Beyond reproach.

Hey, one thing I've learned:

no one, especially investors,

gives crap number one about any of this.

They just want to know their
returns are Street-leading.

They might say they care about ethics,

but as long as the SEC
lets us keep the lights on

and we keep the numbers up,

in terms that you would understand,

it's like Tarkanian in Vegas.

Did you tell him to use that line?

No. He must be doing some
reading on the outside.

But his point still stands.

Investors just want wins.

If you won't do the full-fat,
full-protein version,

gimme at least some leaned-down
coaching on a specific.

Business. Not personal.

I am getting paid.

And that is the job for which.

So... yeah.

I need to get to the right
decision and approach.

Here's the fact pattern.

Michael Prince Capital is
not off to a banner start.

Morale ain't great here at the moment.

And the culture...

the legacy culture is even worse.

Now codified by a regulatory black eye.

And the clients.

How do I keep 'em rolling with me

when I can't even spin
to the group of people

showing up here each day?

What if you tack with
the prevailing winds?

And don't try to stay big or get bigger.

At first.

Shrink capital under management?
Is that what you're...

You have a move that
bold in your arsenal?

I don't know. It's not
the house number in this racket.

Sure isn't.

But what if we weren't
attached to the way

it's always been done?

Or to the results.

Or to the feeling we get from

having the most.

What if we detach from all that?

And instead think about...

the process,
the holistic form of the place.

What would be the final
goal of something like that?

When things reach their
ideal Platonic form,

they tend to function well.

And the endpoint reveals itself.

If you don't like the legacy,

change out everything from that legacy.

I'm still just trying to figure out

the right investment approach
given the parameters

of the world right now.

And our need to color inside the lines.

Maybe for the first time in
the history of this place.

If you have investment problems,

talk to your best
investment professional.

I believe I tried.
Believe they didn't seem

interested in talking to me.

What if it were their beliefs
you needed to change?

About who you are,
about the lengths you're willing to go.

And what if you were able to show them

what happens when someone
doesn't do it your way?

That's advanced.

I finally figured out how
you can be of utility to me.

Ah, my life's dream, fulfilled.

You are sassier than Claudia
Conway on Mother's Day.

Okay.

We haven't done the dance yet.

I guess this is us about to do it.

I'm your object lesson to them, huh?

Shitcan my ass, they get
scared and get 'er done for you.

This was never gonna work.

But I'm not going to pay you in full.

Axe may have set a booby
trap with your deal...

Oh, he did.

He rigged a real Bouncing Betty.

$80 million dollars after
the sale upon my firing.

So if you are here
with a pink slip, I accept.

But nothing if you quit
or get fired for cause.

Which is why I'm clocking in and out

like I'm on the factory floor at GM.

And I would even pass
a piss test right now.

Sure, I get it,
you're not gonna give us cause.

But, by the same token,
I'm not going to do you

the favor of firing you to
the tune of 80 million bucks.

Why not? You can afford it.

But not how I do business. So.

Let's haggle.

Eighty cents on the dollar.
I walk for 64.

Ten cents on the dollar.

Eight million?

I wipe my ass with eight million.

Nine if I've had an açai bowl.

- Seventy.
- Twenty.

You're only succeeding at
strengthening my resolve.

I see that.

Look, I give you forty million.

We're free, but it sucks
a little for both of us.

The definition of a real compromise.

So, agreed?

Oh, damn,

this isn't really about the money.

You need this job.

The place to go,

the sense of purpose.

Maybe it's the ticker scare,

but I'm thinking money
isn't the main thing.

Or maybe it's that I'm
greedier than I thought,

and want all of it. But I

don't think I'm gonna settle.

Nope.

I'm gonna hold out for the full pop.

And, yes, you could put me
out to pasture and pay me,

but here's what you don't know...

Get Scooter in here.

Tell me what you've
learned about the team.

Victor Mateo comes off
streetwise but went to Yale.

Low double-digit returns
average over his career.

Ben Kim, Stanford grad.

Solid fundamental approach.

Risk averse, but improving.

Tuk Lal, close immigrant family,
overachiever.

Bonnie Barella,

a bit uncommitted,
has gone firm to firm...

You done?

Because you could get that
weak shit from LinkedIn.

The things you don't know are,

Victor acts like he's a
capo in the 6th Mob family

but translates French
literature in his spare time

and he has taken a personal vow

never to have a down
year for his clients

because that's how he
proves to his dead father

he's the better man.

Ben Kim got a perfect score on his SATs,

but he feels like he's the
dumb one in his family.

His mother's alive,
but she already haunts him.

That nice guy thing is
cloaking a giant ambition

that needs to be unleashed.

Tuk Lal. He tried to date

the prettiest girl in his high school,

but she fucking crushed him.

Told him he was a loser.

He's desperately afraid she's right,

and won't stop until he's rich as Gatsby

to prove her wrong.

And Bonnie, she is tribal.

She hates outsiders

and considers basically
everyone an outsider.

But once you're in,

you'll see that under that
pistachio shell exterior,

she's got a giant heart,

and she'll protect you
like a mama badger.

Oh, and she's terrified
of ending up alone,

which can be marshaled
into making her into an earner

of the first fucking order.

Damn.

Okay.

Okay. We get the point.

You know what moves the squad,

what makes them rattle and hum.

That's right.

And also... Yes.

I need this place.

Like Gere needed OCS in Gent.

But you fuckers need me too.

Maybe.

But trust is the problem.

Oh, over time,

I'm sure you'll earn my trust.

They keep saying that.

You said you wanted to see us.

Yes, my old friends...

Listen, you motherfuckers,

it's being said I've
outlived my utility,

that I'm a right-hand man

in search of a man to be that hand to.

But I am not done.

I've still got some fight left,

some money to make,
and a next act to play.

Maybe you're all still upset

that things aren't like they were.

Bwah-fucking-hah. Get over it.

We've got a new general.
And while I too have been burned

by the rug pull and the spying,

well, that worked out for me, I guess.

You'd better get in fucking step

and start acting like the mercenary army

of professional moneymakers that you are

and get set to kill for him,

or else this place is going to turn into

Parris Fucking Island.

- What's that...
- Look it up!

Just having a team-building exercise.

Ready to start rowing in the
same fucking direction, sir.

Excited about it!

We're gonna need everyone downstairs.

I thought Sam Kinison died.

Wags 2.0 requires the next update.

'Bout fucking time someone showed

some clankers around here.

I'd like to welcome all of you,

our investors who have
placed such trust in our firm

over the years.

Even before it was this specific firm.

One of the things I brought
to our organization

is a moral barometer.

I understand that these employees

give many of you comfort.

They've managed your money well.

They've grown it.

They've protected you
against downside exposure.

But things must develop

and evolve and change,

and I can no longer
allow this place to be

peopled with compromised individuals.

Do I fire them all?

Start clean?

Even as I have made a
promise to lift them up

and train them in my
way of doing things?

Or is there another way
to rebuild, retool?

Another attachment to cast off?

I would love if there
were a different way

instead of firing us.

Why don't you shut the hell up.

- No.
- None of that, Victor.

Enough firepower is
pointed in his direction.

In all of your direction.

And if I fired all of you,

but kept the incentive
structure the same,

the next batch of analysts
and portfolio managers

would end up in the exact same place.

It's the root cause that has to shift.

Uh, in what way, Prince?

Let's look at the prevailing winds.

The prevailing feeling in
the country about wealth.

I think it's largely right.

Too much is concentrated

in the hands of too few.

But let's not blame those who manage

that wealth for them.

Let's instead look to those
who profit the most.

As one of them,
I understand the temptation

more than almost anyone can.

And it's true.

Many of the wealthiest have
misused their resources.

Many have cut corners.

We will not.

In fact, we won't take their money.

I'm not firing them, my employees.

I'm firing you, my investors.

Which is why I've called you all in.

We have checks drawn and
wire confirmations on hand

for your redemptions.

Thank you for your business,
and should you reach

our new standards
for ethics in business,

perhaps we'll meet again.

Mr. Rhoades.

This is no mark against your character.

But I can't keep you either.

You're giving me the bum's rush?

I think it's best for
your familial harmony

and our morale right here.
Thank you for your belief.

If this is some leftover
rancor against my son,

know this,

my little Willow will grow up

with revenge on her mind.

Like Beatrix Kiddo?

If that's some young girl

squaring family accounts and some such,

then fuck yes.

Melville, thank you for your business.

Hold on a second,
I'm in a wholly different...

Different but the same.

The controversy you're in the middle of,
it's too hot,

and you're on the wrong side of it.

But it's also your company.

We don't want a security contractor

who sells pepper spray and
rubber bullets around here.

We don't want to make you richer.

Well, I give not a shit.

There are 100s of companies
who will beg for my money!

- They will. No doubt.
- He-he.

But I am hereby creating
The Prince List,

which involves shedding
all the dirty capital

currently invested.

From now on,

clients will have to
qualify to invest with us.

The SEC has blessed this approach

and given us a clean bill of health.

We're flipping the paradigm.

Instead of proving our
worth to the investors,

our investors will have
to prove their worth.

As a pension fund. As a company.

As a union.

As a family.

As human beings.

We'll take a hit at first, to be sure.

But we'll be able to
hold our heads up high.

So we flake off what, like,
a third for appearances?

I'm not an appearances guy.

No.

We flake off every investor but one.

This one.

We like the New York Firefighters.

We'd like to keep investing for you.

Well, it's our pleasure to stay.

I'll let the rest of you head on out.

He's never leaned into
corner-cutting or dirty edge.

He's resisted it, in fact.

So he will ride with us,

and we will rewrite the
way this industry works.

And I'll need all of
you to help me do it.

And we'll do it together.

Oh, and so you know,
if you continue wearing your rings,

the data will be available only to you.

It may feel like we just cut
our capital by two-thirds,

but, remember,

the one thing billionaires hate

is being left out.

Excluded.

So sit back

and watch how badly people
want to get on the Prince List.

Ballsy fucking move!

That's a goddamned badass, right there.

You hope the billies will want in.

Damned straight.

That cannon has fired its last salvo!

Now I have asked you all here to join me

in taking our town back!

Yeah!

You've caught me on the wrong day

for this brand of bullshit.

Excuse me, let me explain.

Mr. Revere,
I'm from the State Department

of Environmental Conservation.

Endangered bog turtles
have been discovered

nesting in your marshland.

It's wonderful news.

But it certainly won't allow for
any more of this cannon fire.

This is a Temporary Restraining Order,

ceasing their fire.

You don't think I got where I am

by just accepting other people's visions

for how I live my life, do you?

- Sir, I don't care...
- The answer to that

is a stiff-necked Yankee "fuck no."

Nat, what the hell is going on?

Are you really going to let this...

interloper come in here

and mess with a local?

I'm fabric of the community.

None of them has ever complained.

Well, Melville, that's the thing,

the whole town has signed a petition.

They want it to stop.

I want it to stop.

Well, I'll have my day in court,

and we'll see if this
bullshit holds up...

Take your best shot, sir.

But the courts are very supportive

of threatened species...

You're going to be a
threatened goddamned species

if you don't get off my property.

Now that right there

is a species unto itself:

the entitled billionaire.

He and those like him are
why I find myself farming

and not prosecuting.

Because while I might
be able to tangle with

and prevail against a billionaire

as a private citizen

with common sense

in the name of nature

and the will of these fine people

by my side...

...I certainly can't
as the Attorney General

of the State of New York

with the pathetic laws at my disposal.

Oh, and you all be sure to drop by

and try my sweet corn when it comes in.

Hook 'em up, get 'em out of here.

That's right! Ha ha!

You wanted your war, you got it.

Ah, what do you say to one
last for old time's sake?

Fire in the hole.

- synced and corrected by sot26 -
www.addic7ed.com