You know, sometimes I wish I'd never heard the name,
James Whittaker Wright.
There I am, just minding me own business
running a little short con with stace.
All of a sudden, he shows up.
The old ring scam, eh?
Not now, mate, I'm busy.
Oh, come on, she's still roping in the mark.
You got time for a little action.
Or are ya too wet behind the ears
to try your hand against a real crossroader?
Shoot.
I want to bet you I can bite my own eye.
All right. I'll have a little bit of that.
I'll tell you why, I'll have a little bit of that. Because... can't be done.
I don't believe it.
What the hell are you doing?
The mark is all ready to go and you're sitting here drinking coffee.
Just having a chat with me new best mate.
What does the lady want to bet I can't bite my own eye?
Oh, you don't be ridiculous. You've obviously got a glass one.
This guy must think we're complete idiots.
Yeah, now.
James Whittaker Wright, III.
Adios, muchachos.
Adios... freak.
My friends call me j.w. 3.
And you know what?
You are the absolute spit of my own boy.
Oh, right, yeah. Listen, um,
if you put the bets on as well we, uh, we might be able to cut you in.
Oh, sure, I swear, I haven't seen my son for 30 years.
But if he's turned out anything like you, oh,
I'd be the happiest man in town, yes, sir.
- Yeah, good, thank you, yeah. - slim chance of that, though.
I was always out griftin' or slam dunked in the slammer.
Poor little bastard never had a chance.
Oh, yeah, if you could just...
But do you know what really hurt?
When his mom walked out, I never even had a chance
to-to say goodbye to the boy.
I... if I could just- if I could just say goodbye
to someone who looks a bit like my boy maybe I could,
- like, closure. - Fine... yeah, yeah.
Oh-oh, are you all right?
Just a touch of emphysema.
I like to be called pa.
Goodbye, son.
And good luck.
Goodbye, dad, uh, pa.
Excuse me.
Where are you going?
Gonna pay for your dad's chips here?
Well, well, well.
James Whittaker Wright, III.
Do you know this guy, albie?
No, but I know the name.
How?
James Whittaker Wright the first
was either the greatest financier of the victorian age,
or the biggest fraudster in history.
No one is quite sure.
What, he was that good?
Legend has it that he pulled off the most
outrageous cackle-bladder there's ever been.
Apparently, he faked his own death,
standing there just as you are now, in broad daylight,
surrounded by judge and jury and the officers of the court.
Whittaker Wright had been running a scam on
the stock exchange, but the bank double-crossed him.
Accused of fraud and stripped of his assets,
James Whittaker Wright was sentenced to 15 years hard labor at the old bailey.
Always a conspirant grifter, however,
he had one more trick up his sleeve.
As he was being sentenced, he apparently took poison,
collapsing dead in court.
But grifting legend states that this was the ultimate cackle-bladder.
He had put himself into a state of suspended animation,
and when the court physician could find
no pulse or breath, he was pronounced dead.
Well, that's great but, uh, who's the geezer with the moody eye?
Yeah, yeah, that's what I'd like to know.
Oh, I believe someone is disrespecting me.
That's a problem when you have my reputation.
You think j.w. 3 is like some gunslinger,
come into town to try his hand against the fastest con in the west?
No-no-no-no-no-no, he's not after our money.
He's sending me a big message, lit up with six foot neon lights.
Yeah, what's it say, "kiss my ass, suckers?"
No-no-no.
It says, go to go to Lee park, sir.
Doesn't look like much today, but 100 years ago
it was the glory of the victorian age.
Oh, blimey, I bet that didn't come cheap.
And the whole caboodle was built and paid for by
James Whittaker Wright.
He was a hustler.
Oh, no, no, let's say, a speculator.
He was a financial wizard,
who made a fortune selling big dreams.
He began his career peddling phony goldmines
to the hungry dreamers who flocked to the old west
in search of el dorado.
Whittaker Wright had a prodigious talent
for selling empty promises to those happy enough to believe them.
You know what?
I'm actually starting to like this guy.
Yeah, my great-grandpappy sure had style.
I see you got my message.
Well, any grifter would be intrigued to learn more about the legendary
J. Whittaker Wright.
You're talking about cons in the American west.
My grandpappy pretty much wrote the book.
So, why did he come to the u.k.?
Yeah, sounds like he was doing pretty good over there.
Oh, nickels and dimes. The big money was in the city.
My grandpappy reckoned that he could make a
bundle floating his W. Goldmine companies on the London stock exchange.
Whittaker Wright took the banks for millions.
Until banks like Cornfoot's conspired against him to bring about his downfall.
Sadly true.
So, I'm gonna avenge my grand pappy,
and commemorate his greatest con.
What do you say?
Partner?
I thought this was pistols at dawn at one reckless.*
I had to get your attention somehow.
Well, I only come as part of a team.
Oh, fine.
But if you've just trained up a bunch of short order flops,
we may have to find ourselves a real crew of hustlers.
How did you track us down?
I heard Albert was in town,
so I just checked into the second most expensive casino in London
and, uh, waited for you to mosey along.
Oh, right.
So where is the first most expensive casino then?
The London stock exchange, of course.
Albert, I'm not sure about j.w. 3.
It's one thing to turn over a crooked individual.
It's quite another to shake down a merchant bank.
The money scares you.
Of course it does.
We deal in thousands, Albert.
They deal millions.
What is the art of the con, Mickey?
I mean, to-to con an ordinary citizen?
No, that's too easy.
The true art of the con is to con another con.
And some of the biggest tricksters on the planet
are in those buildings.
They don't care if they cheat some widow out of her pension,
or a family man loses his savings.
It's all the same to them, you know.
A six figure bonus.
A company merger.
Don't you think that, uh, they deserve a taste of their own medicine?
But can we trust J.W. 3?
Of course not.
But we might learn something.
Michael, no one has run a con like this in over 100 years.
And the only thing we don't know is how
and when he intends to double-cross us.
But that's part of the attraction, right?
For a real grifter, it's the only attraction.
Okay, the biggest score ever.
We're one.
So how does this, uh, thing gonna work then?
We're going to launch a chad mining company,
which will issues shares to fund exploration for oil.
Our oil company will be just as phony as Whittaker Wright's Gold mines.
And just like him, we'll be floating our company
on the stock exchange.
We can't do that without a respected merchant bank.
So we're going after Cornfoot's, the bank that screwed my grandpappy.
Okay, so let's take a look at our marks.
Quenton Cornfoot, head of corporate finance.
He's their roper.
He romances the clients and brings in the business.
I've taken the liberty of preparing a mockup,
the kind of thing we might be able to do here.
Gentlemen, please, it's my treat.
Can I tempt you to a brandy or a cigar?
And this is Charles Cornfoot, head of trading.
He's the shakedown artist.
Because once you sign up with a merchant bank,
there is a fee for everything,
and they will make their money whatever happens.
All banks are greedy, but Charles Cornfoot has an
insatiable appetite for other people's money.
You know, share prices can do down as well as up.
Can I have a glass of your best brandy please?
Oh, and you better bring the cigar box back.
Whittaker Wright underestimated the bank's greed.
But we're going to use that greed to turn the tables on them.
Stacie, you will be our inside woman
working for the bank as an analyst and feeding information back to us.
And, Ash, you-you will be our oil expert who sets the rumors running.
And Albert and J.W. 3
will play the parts of the foolish investors who drive up the share price.
Finally, we need someone to front the company.
Ideally, we need a person who's completely obnoxious.
A brash, ignorant flash harry.
Yeah, a mouthy, full of himself, no nothing barrel boy
who will instantly #get up right the toffee noses
of every banker in the city.
Get in there!
Oy, ah, easy, tiger.
So you usually dress to the right?
No, mate, I, um, always right near labor.
So, swinging to the right it is then, sir.
Morning, gilbert manning, human resources.
We're expecting that new graduate intern today.
Oh, yes, yeah, I got the memo.
You want me to go straight up, yeah?
No... there's been a cock-up in office services,
so now they're redecorating, like, the entire floor.
We're gonna have to take him to the bank of England instead.
It's all right for some, isn't it?
Yeah, isn't it? Look, I'll be waiting over there.
Just send 'em across there.
Okay. Nice color on you.
Check it out, kids.
Look at that, beautiful.
Uh, Danny, Danny.
You're supposed to be the brash city type.
You know, try not to force it, all right?
Okay, so I've got to let him see me, you know, for who I am.
So, don't draw attention to your performance.
Relax and let them do some of the work.
Pink?
Hello, I'm part of Cornfoot's new graduate interns.
Oh, yes.
They're just waiting for you over there.
So, subtle performance, yeah? I can do subtle.
Yeah, we know you can.
A little less jordan, a little more classy like,
Charlotte Church.
You're incorrigible.
Hello... gilbert manning, deputy of personnel.
- And you are? - Melissa DeMonfort.
Welcome onboard, Melissa... please.
This is fione, a fellow fresher.
Hello.
Did you get your signing on bonus?
Oh, yes. Thanks.
I couldn't believe the size of it.
All right, as I was explaining to fione here,
there's been a slight hitch.
You don't want it back, do you?
No-no-no-no-no-no.
Some idiot has decided to refurbish your offices,
so I'm going to have to ask one of you to come back in a month's time.
You mean take paid leave?
Yes.
I don't mind, I really, really don't.
Okay.
Hang on.
I have to start work and she gets a month's holiday?
Well, I was here first.
Well, don't be ridiculous. What's that got to do with it?
All right, ladies, ladies, let's, uh,
toss a coin, shall we?
Melissa, you call.
Heads.
Heads it is.
So, Melissa, you get the chance to spend your signing on bonus.
We'll see you in a month's time, with a suntan.
Thanks... I'll send you a postcard.
You have a double first in maths,
and a phd in astrophysics.
A phd in astrophysics?
So you're good with figures?
I'm a calculator.
So, what's the square root of 74,088?
Uh,272.1911 and the cube is 42.
So where do you want me to start?
On the trading floor or in the back office?
You can start by making us a cup of tea.
And don't forget the biscuits.
That's very cheap.
Yeah, it's a special introductory offer, sir, yeah.
Everything's steam cleaned and we even scrape your boat.
Don't you need a dry dock for that?
Yeah, we got one, in our yard, just over the water there.
All right, have her back by tomorrow.
Right.
Okay, what's gonna happen?
Now you can't go to them.
They're a merchant bank.
They're not interested in clients who are interested them.
Important customers have to be seduced.
Right.
Well, they don't know me from Adam.
I fear not.
Which is why, you might need this to make a bit of a splash.
Remember our friend Whittaker Wright?
He knew that to float on the stock exchange,
it's not what you've got that counts,
it's what people think you've got.
Greed is the only vital ingredient in a mark,
and nothing is quite like Gold.
It helps if they think you're an idiot.
Do you do valet parking for your V.I.P. Clients?
1Naturally, sir, but...
hang on to that, son.
Parked outside on the yellow line.
Where's the director of corporate finance, sweetheart?
Down there on the right.
But excuse me, do you have an appointment...
What the?
Aw, stop feigning about, let's get down to work.
Where's this prospectus I've been promised?
Who the hell are you?
Chad mining company.
- Never heard of them. - Well, there's nothing in the diary.
I'm sorry, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave.
Oy mush, I've come along way for this meeting, sunshine,
so let's be having it.
You'd better call security.
Listen, ass wipe, if this is the way that charter
mutual treat their special customers,
then I'm gonna have to find another bloody bank, aren't I,
to float my company on the stock market.
We're not charter mutual.
We're Cornfoot's.
Well, where the hell is charter mutual then?
It's the next building along.
Are you telling me that I've walked
into the wrong bloody merchant bank?
It would seem so.
Well, okay.
I'm such a bloke.
Don't give it a second thought. It could've happened to anyone.
So you say charter mutual are going to float
your company on the stock market?
Yeah, giving it the full works, they tell me.
Have you talked to any other merchant banks
before putting your business with charter?
Uh, no, no... the point is, sir, I mean,
if Shannon Miller wants to get in bed with ya,
you're not gonna go down the local boozer
to see what else is in offer, do ya?
Well, madonna drinks in my local,
as does claudia schiffer and kate moss, not to mention kelly brook.
So it may be worth shopping around after all.
No, no, not interested.
Not interested at all.
Right.
Charter mutual, next building along, right?
Nice boat.
I really think you should hear what Cornfoot's have to offer...
what about over lunch?
Some other time maybe.
Charter mutual, they're up there waiting for me.
Let 'em wait, a good merchant bank
should always be willing to wait on a valued client.
I know we are.
Nice to have you on board.
Speaking of which, I'd like to leave me boat here
while I check into the hotel.
I'll tell the porter.
Good, good.
And while you're at it, get him to give it a bit
of a swabber with a cloth...
He'll get straight onto it.
And then get him to take it to his moorings in the surrey keys.
Of course.
See? They hate me already.
She's nice.
I hope she's working on my launch.
Oh, she's just one of the new graduate interns, sir...
just make it happen.
So what do you think, sweetheart?
Do you think I'm gonna make money,
or do you think I'm gonna make lots of money?
Well, looking at these proposals,
there are a number of aspects that worry me.
Details, I'm sure.
But nobody has ever found oil in northern chad,
or even suggested it's a remote possibility.
- Is that a problem? - That's for the market to decide.
That's what I thought.
Because you know what the collective is now for bankruptcy is, don't you?
It's a onech, as in a onech of bankers.
You stupid little girl.
Who the hell do you think you are?
Don't you ever open your mouth in front of a client
like that again, do you understand me?
Don't you care what we're offering the public?
Of course not, we just stack the shelves.
We don't set the prices.
So there isn't any kind of company you wouldn't float on the market?
No, that's not true.
Only last week we turned down a guy who wants
to launch a company selling toilet/bidets.
Even we thought that was a stinker.
Literally.
If there's one thing I really enjoy,
it is poaching clients from someone else.
So what I want you to do is draw up a prospectus
that makes this crock look like a pot of Gold at the end of the rainbow.
And see if you can rustle up an oil consultant
who's prepared to be flexible.
About his fee?
No... about the chances of finding oil in northern chad.
- Ash? - Yeah, I'm up here.
Stacie seems to be making good progress.
How's the oil consultancy?
Good... just getting me presentation together for Cornfoot.
What is the worst case scenario for the oil industry at the moment?
$100 a barrel by 2007.
All nine reserves exhausted 20 years later.
Well, I think you'll need to do much worse than that
if you're going to convince these bankers.
These figures make a pretty good reading, Mr. Bauer.
Yeah, yeah, it's tres bad.
$150 a barrel in two years time,
and all known reserves exhausted by 2020.
No wonder the oil companies want to keep this to themselves.
But anyone in the know, stands to make a killing.
So what do you hear about northern chad?
Nothing at the moment.
It is in the middle of the war zone.
But it cold be possible, I suppose.
You, uh, you want me to look into it, yeah?
Oh yeah, we'll put you on a retainer.
Whittaker Wright knew that the key to the stock exchange was propaganda,
so he let loose words that flew around the city.
Each rumor built the value of his stock
until his worthless holdings had become the most
precious commodity on the market.
So apparently there's oil in chad.
Yes, there are rumors all over the internet.
Your oil consultant is really doing the business.
Stacie is doing a good job, isn't she?
Yeah, apparently,
she just has to express an opinion to provoke a reaction.
Well, she's a very provocative young woman.
So, you and J.W. 3 ready to play the part of the foolish investors?
Are there any other kind?
No, but watch your back with J.W. 3.
Remember he's a grifter too.
Are you okay?
Do you think I should call a doctor?
No-no-no-no, I prefer to treat myself.
Hopefully, to at least a couple of million dollars.
That isn't good enough, we couriered you our offer last week.
Well, I'm sorry but Cornfoot's have no record of it.
Blimey, what kind of half-assed operation are you running here?
Could this be it but only just arrived.
$1 million.
Well, I'm afraid, gentlemen, you are too late.
The zinc holding subscription closed three days ago.
You moron.
I told you we should have delivered here, personally.
What are you, the mail boy now?
Listen, you don't give a guy in a motorcycle
helmet a million bucks unless he's got a-a shotgun in his hand.
I wish I had a shotgun in my hand.
What kind of investment opportunities are you looking for?
We like commodities.
You know, coffee, cotton, pork bellies...
oil?
Oil, sure... but the commodity
we like best is risk.
How much risk?
As much as we can get.
Then, gentlemen, I think I may be able to help you.
Hang on.
So the shares can't be traded until after the floatation, right?
Yeah, investors can only, uh, subscribe to the shares now.
They don't actually get their certificates until
after we're officially quoted on the stock market.
Right... and we're selling, then we're clear to go?
That's right.
So, what's this price here, and how come we ain't getting it?
Oh, that's a futures market.
That's, uh, trades in the future price of our shares.
I get it.
So the action ain't on the shares for sale,
but on the ones we're holding back.
That's certainly the way J. Whittaker Wright saw it.
Whittaker Wright always held on to at least half
of the shares in his companies,
only cashing them in when his rumors had run their course,
and the floatation day arrived.
By this stage, his stock was worth a fortune.
Whittaker Wright's success was soon to prove his downfall.
The banks didn't like to see anyone make more money
than them, and it wasn't long before they came after him.
Ahoy!
Oh, hey, mates.
Just come and have a bit of a beano then.
- What? - A beano, a royal...
come on, get rid of all this stuff.
What are you celebrating, what?
The latest Sidney wonder kid's first spectacular deal.
My treat, * all the way.
We're working, I'm afraid.
Hang on a minute, who's the bleeding client here?
You are.
That's right, you are, me am.
If I tell you I want a jolly go on a jolly up,
and you, you, and missy, jolly well better jolly on too.
Naturally, we would be delighted,
celebrate your good fortune.
And there's an old Cornfoot's bank tradition
that any evening out always begins
with a round or two of liar's poker.
- Are you familiar with the game? - No.
You guess the serial numbers on 50 quid notes.
Listen, don't worry about 50 quid notes,
because I've got pocketful of 'em.
Gentlemen never play for cash amongst themselves.
No, what do we play for then?
Buttons?
Forfeits, of course.
Just as we did at olly-olly big school.
Five six's.
Six sevens.
- Six nines. - Nine sixes.
Bullocks, Charles.
You don't think I can make nine sixes?
I don't... challenge.
None.
I've got three sixes.
Three of the same.
And I've got three sixes, which I believe makes nine in total.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
Why did you have to whip me so bleeding hard?
I wouldn't have hit you that hard if you'd lost.
Yeah, but thanks to the bank I was never going to, was I?
God, it's not about business, is it?
Any nutter who walks in there with any idea will make money whatever happens.
Yeah, just about.
Although some ideas are even too crazy for crooks like them.
Come off it, they're sewer rats.
Yeah, but even so.
This guy came in here last week
trying to launch a company selling toilets/bidets.
What?
Toilet and a bidet?
Yeah, Charles turned him down.
He said it reminded him of you, actually.
Yeah, apparently it's not squirting pointlessly.
Just a little shit.
Kojak, give me two more bottles of jubbly, all right?
And, uh, stick it on Cornfoot's tab.
All right, lads!
What a charmless *
Stick some mackerel to see some Johnny come lately
wander in and take a piss out of my investors.
Exactly, that's our job, isn't it?
He's quite ghastly.
And he's going to be even more ghastly once his company is fettered.
But there's nothing we can do about it, is there?
Says who?
Well, look at the price of his shares. He stands to make a fortune.
Not if we short the hell out of him?
Bingo.
But you can't do that.
You'd be selling shares you don't own.
That's illegal.
Who cares?
We sell hard enough, the price will collapse
and we'll buy them all back the next day for peanuts.
And no one will know we didn't have them in the first place.
All we need is for someone to start a new rumor.
Sounds like a job for our oil consultant.
He'll need to move fast if we're gonna trash
chad mining before floatation day.
You know these rumors you've been spreading?
Well, if there's any oil in northern chad,
I'm a Dutchman.
I'm the Dutchman.
Huh... yeah.
Anyway, it's time to put a stop to it.
Why would you want to do that?
It's always a turn on to see a pole dancer standing on her head, isn't it?
Makes everything sort of hang out a bit more, doesn't it?
Yes, for sure.
It's a bit like your rumors.
Why don't you see if you can't stand them on their heads too?
You are coming to me with a big ask.
A very big ask.
Yes, but a pole dancer normally gets triple her fee for it,
so why shouldn't you?
The banks began to plot his downfall.
He had taught them the power of rumors,
and now they decided to launch their own.
With the market already worried about the value of the stock,
the bank began to sell.
Nothing drives the value of a company down more
effectively than a bank selling its shares
hard and fast.
And that's just what Cornfoot's did.
They sold, and sold, and sold some more.
Sell, sell, sell, and sell some more.
So the more the price drops, the more money we make.
And, uh, how do we get the price to drop?
We sell, of course, the bank keeps selling.
But won't we eventually run out of buyers?
Not until it hits zero.
In the meantime, I've got a couple of scrawny-necked
American turkeys who are gonna peck at anything.
So make sure you keep your wits about you.
Or better still, about me.
Now that's the sort of dream the city should be offering the public.
Lying bastards.
You know, all of our anticipated profits have gone up in smoke
because we're being sold short by our own bastard bank.
Yeah, well, that's the stock market for you,
and they did the same thing to J.W. 3's grandfather.
So, what are we gonna do then?
Keep on buying, of course.
Just let me get this straight, all right?
We're buying our own company for more than we're selling it.
And what's more, we're buying it several times over,
all on tick, all with money that we don't even have.
Yep.
Well, this is nuts.
We've seen the rumors but we have an inside track of our own.
We still want to buy long if that's the technical term.
Well, I'm sure your bravery will be rewarded.
We just need to set a floor and a limit.
Oh, no floor, we'll chase the market all the way down.
And no limit, we'll take all the action we can get.
With his stock worthless, the bank began to aquisite
Whittaker Wright, taking everything he had grifted
so hard to own, and lining their own pockets.
They even had the shirt off his back.
Okay, let's stop there.
I didn't-I didn't really think you could sell it right down to zero.
Who can't?
Time for one last spin of the wheel, guys.
Keep selling.
Keep going.
We've done it!
We've actually bloody done it.
We've driven the price back to zero.
Here's to chad mining, the most worthless company
in the whole wide world.
Come on, cheer up.
Because not only do we own the whole of chad mining company,
but we own it several times over.
We bought all the shares?
That's right and at 9:00 A.M. tomorrow morning,
we'll pledge to buy them all over again.
100 times over, and maybe for 1,000 times more than they're worth.
But that-that, I mean, that must be mad.
Yes, it is... but there is a method in our madness.
One hour of trading left.
All right, guys, party's over. Stop buying.
This is almost as stacked as you are.
We're placed to sell million of shares tomorrow
at prices ranging from ten pounds each, to ten pence.
That's right, and now we're gonna cover
that position by buying them all back at a penny a go.
Now that's what you call a profit.
Hang on, nobody is selling at a penny a share.
We'll go long at 2p a share.
Or 3p, we can afford it.
Still no takers, and I've got it at 5p a share.
What's going on? That-that's crap's worthless.
Any holder should be happy to give 'em away.
Still drawing a blank.
Yeah, okay, that's great.
Well, that's it.
When the market opens tomorrow,
chad mining will be officially quoted on the stock exchange.
Maybe we should convene a shareholder's meeting.
Okay... so, gentlemen, does anyone feel like
selling a single share of the chad mining company to Cornfoot's tomorrow?
Not me.
Nor I.
And what about you?
It's your company, you still own half the shares.
So if we don't sell them our shares, they can't sell them back to us.
Well, isn't that a breach of contract?
Yes, a very serious one with very serious penalties.
If the bank can't sell the shares that it pledged to sell, they're stuffed.
And they'd have to pay out for every single day they can't sell those shares.
Well, that's brilliant. So it's like compound interest.
In fact, it's better than compound interest.
It's like, well, it's like having your wn bleeding bank.
The shares can't just vanish.
They must be out there somewhere.
Keep trading in the far east and in new York.
Someone must sell, eventually.
They better, or tomorrow we are completely and royally buggered.
Forget about the market.
Our charming zoink of a client is still holding 50%, isn't he?
So we can buy what we need from him.
All right, kid, here's a simple proposition there.
I'll give you ten to one
that you turn over a picture card before I do.
I'll even let you shuffle first.
Ten to one?
I'll shuffle.
Nine of diamonds.
- Four of spades. - Yeah, saw you peeking.
*
Hey, turn this one over here.
Just lost the bet, didn't I?
Break time.
Hello, charlie.
Listen, gents, I mean, I'd love to help you out.
Really, I would.
But, unfortunately, none of my shares are for sale.
You can name your own price.
Anything.
I know.
So who's Mr. Squirting * full of shit toilet/bidet now, then?
I'll see you tomorrow, all right.
When chad mining officially opens on the stock market.
See ya.
Well, all the talk here, on the trading floor
is about the chad mining floatation.
After a roller coaster week on the futures market,
it's anyone's guess what the opening price may be.
Well,? 15 pounds.
So why is the price still rising?
Come on, Eddie, keep up.
Cornfoot's are driving the price up themselves.
And watch how high it goes when they really start to panic.
It don't matter, all right,
what they offer for our shares, we ain't selling.
This is going to be some blow off.
The cackle-bladder is the ultimate move.
There is nothing quite as effective as faking your own death.
And if you want to make it really convincing,
you are going to need a phony physician.
Dr. John Graunt.
Good morning.
I'm doing the rounds, giving the department its annual checkup.
What... you can't possibly do that now.
It is in our diary.
And without it, I'm afraid I cannot authorize
your annual increase in pension provisions.
Under the circumstances, it may be the last one we ever get.
Oh, all right, but you'll need to do it very quickly.
Of course.
And just breath normally please.
The chad mining people have arrived.
We'll have to continue this later.
Fine.
I'll come back tomorrow.
No you won't, you wait there.
There, your settlement.
A million sterling.
Thank you.
We'll be back tomorrow for the same amount.
Unless the share price rises again.
Of course you do know our other partner, don't you?
Hello, charlie.
Remember me?
You're all in this together.
I'll go to the police, the financial regulator.
And say what?
That this bank's more crooked than we are?
Insider dealing.
Driving the market.
Selling your own client's short.
It sounds like a fast route to prison to me.
A 100 years ago, this bank destroyed my grandpappy.
And now, gentlemen, it's payback time.
Well, well, well.
They say revenge is a dish best served cold,
which sounds positively icy.
You're James Whittaker Wright's grandson?
Yep.
And with these options to buy, I can make your bank
pay and keep on paying as long as I like.
Hang on there, hang on.
There is such a thing as too much greed.
Perhaps we could offer you guys, a deal.
- Anything. - In case we need to.
You did say... anything.
Why aren't you flogging her too?
It'd be much more fun.
Because I'm a gentleman.
And just for that, we ain't gonna sell ya the shares.
You filthy crook.
I should beat the living...
Hey... hey, come on, hey.
- He's not breathing. - What?
I can't feel a pulse.
- Call the doctor. - Dial 999.
No, you stupid... the moron waiting in my office.
I'm afraid this gentleman is dead.
I'd better call the coroner's office.
You assaulted him.
It was an accident... l...
- I-- - Tell that to the police.
At the very least, I'd say you're looking at manslaughter.
Manslaughter?
Yeah.
That's ten years minimum.
I can't go to prison.
I didn't mean... I'm a banker,
not a murderer.
You got to help me.
Well, I suppose we could make this go away.
You could, how?
Of course we'd need the checks for another day's settlement.
Make sure you make them out for cash.
My colleague was an old man who had a heart condition.
Yes, terrible really.
I mean, the old guy just... he just collapsed
in his seat.
Well, what about the doctor?
We'll talk to him and tell him what happened.
As for you, I'd like you to go home and come back
tomorrow as if nothing had happened.
Except just lost two million sterling of the bank's money.
Well, share prices can go up as well as down.
Charles, we should go.
All right, you can get up now.
Come on, stop messing around.
Hey.
I can smell almonds.
What's that?
Cyanide.
What's going on here?
His heart's stopped.
He's having a laugh.
Come on, J., we ain't got all day.
No, he's still not breathing.
"Dear Albert, you had better sit down."
That's right.
I really took cyanide.
And the name's not Whittaker Wright.
It's Bill clegg.
I spent my life working for the jolly asbestos company,
until this rotten bank took us over.
They stripped out the assets,
trashed the pension fund, bankrupted the place.
And the fact that half the workers turned out
to have asbestosis didn't bother them neither.
So, when I was diagnosed as terminal,
I decided to become J.W. 3 and take my revenge.
I sent all the details to the regulator this morning.
So the settlements are worthless.
But there's still enough to send Charles to the pen for a long time,
and put his bank out of business.
Apparently, clegg really enjoyed working with us,
and he's sorry he can't reimburse us for our time and expenses.
He now suggests we exit via the back entrance
because the fraud squad are coming in the front any minute.
You bastard.
Oh, don't grieve for me too much.
I only had a few weeks left in me anyway.
So, instead of pretending to take cyanide, I took it.
So it's not a cackle-bladder.
It's a double bluff cackle-bladder.
Right, come on, everyone.
We wipe this place clean and get out of here.
Come on, let's go.
Come on, you're late, we need to get out of here.
Where's J.W. 3?
Back there, dead.
- What? - And he's not J.W. 3...
And he's not even American.
Come on.
You know this thing is gonna be all over the papers by tomorrow.
We're gonna have to split up for a few weeks
and make with some alibis. Albert, check into a hospital.
Danny, Stacie, if you... oh, no, wait a second.
Wait a second.
He said, penitentiary.
In the letter to Albert he said, "there's enough
"evidence to send Charles to the pen for a long time."
No real northerner would ever use that word.
No, they'd say behind bars or-or-or in prison or something.
But who would use the word "pen?"
Only an American.
An honest to God, salute the "star spangled banner",
genuine "yankee doodle dandy", son of uncle Sam.
We've been privileged to meet one of the greatest artists
of our chosen profession.
Yeah, look, would somebody please tell me what's going on?
Not a cackle-bladder.
Not a double bluff cackle-bladder.
But a double-double bluff cackle-bladder.
All the supplement checks are gone as well.
So much for being worthless.
Okay, okay, let's think, let's think.
Albert, you've just come around from suspended animation.
You've got two million plus of money orders in your back pocket,
you've just successfully blown off your fellow team of boosters,
what do you do next?
You're headed for the airport and get the first plane out of here.
Well, of course you can upgrade to first class, Mr. Wright.
But you will need to run to catch your flight.
It's already boarding.
Well, I'm a little old for that these days.
Can I ride on the caboose instead?
What do you want to bet I can't bite my own eye?
A month or more solid work and all we've got to show
for it is egg on our faces.
I think that's a small price to pay to witness a beautiful thing.
And I was wrong.
The true art of the con is not to con a fellow con.
But to con a fellow con who is expecting to be conned.
As you say, I tip my hat to the old snake.
We all received a valuable lesson that money can't buy.
And at my age, you're never too old to learn.
Yeah, very philosophical.
But philosophy won't pay the rent.
No, but I will.
How?
Remember that, uh, toilet/bidet idea?
Well, I liked the sound of it, so I bought a couple
of grand worth of shares in the company before it floated.
Great, so now we're looking at an even bigger loss.
No, not true.
Apparently, the Japanese can't get enough of it.
It's supposed to be the biggest thing in tokyo since they invented the futon.
What, so the share price just goes up?
Oh, yeah, I'vegot 25,000 already.
Then you really are Mr. Toilet/bidet.
Well, I'm not one to boast.
There are a lot of different stories about
what happened to James Whittaker Wright after his
adventures in the city.
I don't really know what the truth is.
But I'd like to think that somewhere along the way
he found his own little peace of grifting heaven.
Transcript: FRM Team - www.1000fr.com Synchro: Sixe - www.sub-way.fr