There's something wrong with the axle.
Oh, my God, it's the cop we set on fire.
Try and look normal.
Make a right! Make a right!
- What right? There is no right. - Any right!
There he is. Paul, come in.
Sorry. There were unexpected developments.
I had to go home and start the day again.
Tell me about it. Some days are two sizes too small.
Well, I'm afraid some of us had to leave.
But, Mr. Zimburger you know.
And this is Mr. Green of First National Maritime Bank.
You want some coffee?
I think we should move right along, Hal.
- I gotta go. - Sure.
Sit down, Paul.
As you may know, Mr. Kemp,
the island is owned by the U.S. government.
Part of it presently used as a target range by the Navy.
We know from internal sources...
Is that what you're calling me?
That the government is preparing to relinquish the lease,
and this place wakes up as 32 square miles
of magnificent and untouched real estate.
Knock your eyes out.
No prettier beaches in the Caribbean.
Orientated around one hell of a beautiful marina.
Thought it was one hotel.
We start with one hotel.
It's a foot in the door.
Once we're up and running, we're servants of a market.
- Like here? - Like here.
You look worried, Mr. Kemp.
He's not worried.
Paul and I shared a tricky little night.
Right, Paul?
Neither of us got much sleep.
I gotta go, guys.
Well, we'll leave you gentlemen to it.
Has Mr. Kemp signed the papers?
Doing that right now.
What am I actually signing?
Just a confidentiality agreement, affirmation of trust.
Just so we're all sitting in the same Jacuzzi.
In case a turd floats up, if you know what I mean.
Come on, Paul, let's go over here.
Here you go.
It's just a technicality, Paul.
Means you promise not to talk to anybody about the project.
How's the head?
Unpleasant.
Gotta thank you again for putting up the bail.
It's held on my cognizance.
And I think it more than likely to slip various minds.
This place is a sea of money, Paul.
Unbelievable money.
Practically every major corporation hides its cash offshore.
No, thanks.
And that is good news for us,
because we are the shore.
Not one dollar that wings its way into Puerto Rico
pays a cent in tax.
- Nothing? - Not penny one.
That includes chemical companies,
oil companies, mining companies.
There's $12 billion worth of copper
in mountains less than 20 miles from here.
A dozen billion dollars.
And there's people like me
who know how to get it out.
So, putting it into context,
I don't envisage the breaking of bones to get at a thousand bucks.
Because you weren't here,
I agreed to an itinerary with Zimburger on your behalf.
You'll be traveling down in the morning. Hope that's okay.
What do you need, Paul?
Well, just in the context of this Zimburger thing,
do you think there's a possibility of an advance?
I don't like to ask, but Letterman's pretty erratic
with the paycheck, you know.
Need to get a hold of a car.
You don't have a car?
Nothing too reliable.
Plus, sooner or later, I'm gonna have to find a decent place to live.
Well, we can help you with that.
When you get back, we'll sort you out something with a view.
Carol, what do we have in the garage?
No, no, no, no, no, no, not that.
Yeah, that's fine. Okay, thank you.
Got you a car. She'll give you the keys on the way out.
Feels like 500?
Yeah. Thanks.
Paul...
How's your afternoon?
A half-written horoscope.
Do me a favor, will you? Drive out to the beach and pick up Chenault.
I need her downstairs by 6:00.
All right.
So, this one?
Or...
This one?
What are these for, a party?
It's for carnival.
Didn't he say anything to you about it?
- No. - You've got to come.
We're all going down on the boat.
He didn't invite me.
Well, it isn't his carnival.
This one.
I like the other one.
Yes.
Love this car.
Did he give it to you?
I wish.
Fast.
You want a little bet?
A bet about what?
That you scream before I do.
That I scream before you do, in relation to what?
Well, how fast does it go?
I don't know.
That's the bet.
I already crashed one car today.
It's okay. I'll just go sit in the foyer and wait for him.
What do I get if I win?
I'll let you know if you do.
Come on, I'll take you back.
Christ, where'd they get this?
I don't remember. I've been slightly avoiding Letterman.
You have me to thank for your freedom.
Thanks.
I got a feeling of total anxiety
trying to put my anxieties together in a single, coherent lump.
I'm fucked without a car.
I got us a car.
It's the Chevy downstairs.
It belongs to Mr. Sanderson.
So what?
I gotta go type this up.
I don't know what's going on.
He's freaking out and we're down 12 pages.
You better frigging do it!
I see your filthy animal face in here again,
I'll have you locked up!
What part of the building are you creeping towards, Sala?
- Darkroom. - Cops are looking for you.
- Looking for me? - Looking for you.
And it ain't just your mug in the paper!
What a day.
What a week.
I tell you, I'm out of here.
One way to friggin' Mexico.
Listen, I got a trip tomorrow. Sanderson's island.
- No, no, no. - Oh, dear.
It's green money, and I'm thinking of cutting across for the carnival.
You know they got that carnival in Saint Thomas.
I know.
Why don't you come with me?
Give the cops a few days to forget.
Yeah. Fun.
Our guys. 12-inch Naval, 14 miles out.
Nobody lives here?
No one who's staying.
Lazar!
Mr. Zimburger.
This is Mr. Lazar, our much put-upon site architect.
- How do you do. - Hello.
Mr. Monk, I think you know.
I assist Mr. Green, First Maritime Bank.
This is Mr. Kemp from The New York Times.
What did you say your name was?
- Bob Sala. - Yeah, Sala.
From American Travel Writers Association.
Mr. Kemp is preparing our brochure.
"Wish you were here."
Beer in the cooler, gentlemen.
I have everything next door.
This and this are the main hotels.
22 floors.
Guardians of the bay, so to speak.
Why the different colors?
Blue is for public dissemination, red is for the investors.
Yeah. Hill villas, ocean condos.
Marina.
Parking for 2,000 cars.
There's no roads.
Damn it, Lazar, you forgot the roads!
We're building them. We're building them.
Let's have some lunch.
10,000 waiters, maids, bellhops, janitors, clerks.
Plus, whores for the fat man.
Hard to believe they'd do it.
I was talking to that architect kind of guy.
He's going to Saint Thomas, if you want a ride.
When?
How do I know when?
When he's finished here.
You know what Oscar Wilde said?
"They know the price of everything,
"the value of nothing."
Two rums.
I thought you'd given up.
Finally beat my willpower.
Come on, let's go here.
Hey, mi amigo!
Hey, Rosie's a singer.
Paul!
Where's Hal?
- Boat. - Boat?
Help me find my girlfriend.
Hey! How are you?
Watch your step.
- Thank you. - All right.
- There we go. - Thank you.
Hi.
Look at you.
Good. Grab some champagne.
Hey, Captain.
- Hey. - Hey.
Did you take Sala to the island?
You shouldn't have done that, Paul.
It's why we have a confidentiality agreement.
He isn't interested.
He's got a mouth like an AP wire.
I just don't know what he was doing there.
And I sure as shit don't know what he's doing here.
Not going glum on us, are you?
Just thoughts.
What's the book?
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.
It was written in 1797 by a junkie called Coleridge.
He wrote that when he was 25 years old.
I've been dragging a typewriter around with me for 10.
I've written nothing.
You've written some books.
Nah.
They had no voice.
I don't know how to write like me.
I resent that.
No, I really have to say he's all right.
I have to admit.
Fair is fair. Fair is fair.
Thank you for the afternoon.
Maybe we'll see you in town.
Where you going?
Her friend's playing in a band.
We're gonna go check it out.
We want to come.
I'll rephrase that.
We don't want to come.
Yes, we do. Us girls want to dance.
You're dancing tomorrow.
What's the point of going to carnival if everything is preplanned?
I want to dance, and if you're not going to take me,
- I'm gonna go with them. - She's got you trumped, Hal.
Sit down. You're drunk.
So what? So is everyone else.
Come on.
Come on, let's do it. it might be amusing.
Oh, cuidado. Careful.
Here we go.
Yeah.
We're done. We're spent.
- You're gonna go? - Yes, we're gonna leave.
You're done?
I can't dance no more. Really.
Hold on. You know what? I'll be out. Let me just get Chenault.
You want rum or beer?
Both.
Dos rum, dos cervezas.
- Whoa, whoa. - We're gonna go.
- Hey. - We're gonna go.
- What? - Natalie's leaving,
- so let's go. - Hey, hey.
- Come on, come on. - No, no, no, no.
Chenault, come here. We're leaving.
- Chenault. - Stop it!
Chenault!
Chenault, come here! Chenault!
Get your hands off me, you motherfucker!
You want to fuck with me?
You know who I am?
You motherfucker!
You know who I am?
- You're a dead man! - Go! Go!
Get your hands off me.
- You're a dead man! - Go!
Forget it.
- We'll call you a cab. - Fuck off!
I gotta get the girl.
She's having a good time. We closed.
You deaf?
I said we closed.
No way, Paul.
No way.
I looked everywhere.
I went to the gendarme.
And?
We went up there.
Nothing. Nobody there.
But an old woman with a mop.
She was more help than the cops were.
"What can I do if your girlfriend likes someone else?" he said.
He's right about that, Paul.
She's not your girlfriend.
Maybe she went back to the boat.
Did you try the boat?
No.
I don't think he'd let her back on.
Is she with you?
Why don't you mind your own goddamn business?
I want the keys.
The Chevy.
You blew it, Kemp.
It's all rust.
I've seen better tires hanging over the side of a tug.
You want it or not?
Yeah, we want it.
Everyone turns up for their Friday check, right?
No check, no Letterman.
So I go around to see that unforgivably ugly wife of his.
She tells me he's gone to Miami.
For what?
You don't know, I don't know.
But the scabs are back.
Since Merell went, the paper took a turn for the worse.
Is there anything in the spinner?
We need a fresh sack.
Well, maybe I can interest you gentlemen in something else.
Like what, death?
Like the most powerful drug in the history of narcotics.
I'm not at liberty to discuss or disclose.
All I can tell you is this stuff is so powerful,
they give it to Communists.
Who does?
The FBI.
Why would the FBI get Communists high?
That I can't help you with.
You take it like eye drops.
In the eye?
So I understand.
It makes the eye see things.
You see a different reality.
What do you want for it?
I'll throw it in with the bike if you do me a favor.
What's the favor?
I want you to come to the bathroom with me.
He's your man.
- $50, right? - Yeah.
He wants me to look at his dick.
I flatly refused.
What does he want you to look at it for?
Says there's something wrong with it.
It's a gentleman's matter.
I'm not looking at it!
All right, give me the drugs back.
No! Wait.
I'll look at it.
I'll view it in the mirror.
Is it clap?
A standing ovation.
You see anything?
No.
Neither do I.
We'll give it another five minutes.
Trouble making ends meet?
- Then, you need the Lending Man. - Right.
Call the Lending Man now.
How long since we took it?
I don't know.
A while.
Bullshit, isn't it?
Is it bullshit?
Jesus.
Your tongue is like an accusatory giblet.
For Christ's sake, keep it out.
What are you talking about?
Your tongue belongs to Satan!
Are you out of your mind?
Keep it out!
If it goes back into your mouth, it'll kill you.
We've got to get it into the sink!
You're giving me fear.
Stop it! I've got fear!
Fuck you. So do I.
You're high, you fool.
Drink some rum.
I thought I was losing grip in there.
What did we take?
I don't know.
We need to get some more.
That explains it.
Doesn't it?
Explains what?
The world.
And us.
I wonder what it is you might think about our different worlds.
He looked at me kind of sideways and said,
"Human beings are the only creatures on Earth
"that claim a God.
"And the only living thing that behaves like it hasn't got one.
"Does the world belong to no one but you?"
And when he said it, I was taken aback.
Not because of who was doing the talking,
because I finally understood the connection
between children scavenging for food
and shiny brass plates on the front doors of banks.
Gotta go.
Come in.
We gotta go.
Give me a minute.
I'll be waiting for you downstairs.
How nice of you to drop in.
I was covering the carnival.
That's not what I heard.
I heard you were in the moonlight for Sanderson.
I was what?
Moonlighting for Sanderson.
Where's Segurra?
Mr. Segurra's no longer with us.
I got a story for you.
Yeah, you may have noticed that I'm somewhat busy.
This is real important, involving Mr. Segurra and Mr. Hal Sanderson.
I'm gonna tell you how important it isn't.
I got 21 jobs on the line and a newspaper going under.
Print this, and you'll sell it.
A planning scam.
Literally despoliation of a paradise.
A thousand people will be swept into the sea like garbage.
You are weird, Kemp.
It's not what it's doing to them, it's what it's doing to you.
It's called journalism.
Make me laugh.
I asked you to tidy up the booze,
you couldn't even sweep out a room.
Why do you think you're working here?
'Cause you're everything that's wrong with a journalist.
And you're everything that's wrong with this insult of a newspaper.
Unanimously agreed.
Why don't you shut it, Moburg?
You are a waste of human sperm.
Die a prolonged and relentlessly agonizing death!
Enjoy her.
Made you some tea.
You should try and sleep.
I stole your bed.
It's okay.
I'm going to write.
I'm so sorry.
Don't be sorry.
You did me the best favor I ever had.
There is no dream, Chenault.
Just a piss puddle of greed,
spreading throughout the world.
I want to make a promise to you, the reader.
And I don't know if I can fulfill it tomorrow
or even the day after that.
But I put the bastards of this world on notice.
That I do not have their best interests at heart.
I will try and speak for my reader.
That is my promise.
And it will be a voice made of ink and rage.
Sit down. I made you coffee.
Thanks.
One for you and one for me.
Oh, man, I would rather not start the day with this.
- What is it? - Lt's a writ.
Means we're going to court.
It means they can arrest us, should they so desire,
any damn minute they please.
We need to speak to a lawyer.
We don't even have a phone.
I know an old guy, Spanish Advocate.
Kind of owes me one.
You should get dressed. We'll go down there.
Water ran out. I'm covered in soap.
Fuck it. See what I can do.
What's it for?
It's Hal.
He put up a bond for us on this thing, and now he's pulled it.
Here.
You know he's a crook, Paul.
And we get the writs.
What is it?
It's Hitler.
It's over.
What is?
They shut us down.
He just stood there and lied to us.
He hasn't got the morality of a clapped out cash register.
I hate to tell you this, guys, but it was to avoid severance.
We all know what it was for, Charlie.
- What are we gonna do? - Nothing.
There's nothing we can do, except report him to the labor board,
which is the same thing as doing nothing.
I disagree.
We gotta strike back
and nail this bastard to his own front door.
And how, pray, do we do that?
By printing the paper.
We got tons of stuff on Letterman.
Every happy maggot with his hand in the till.
It may be the last-ever issue, but we go out in a blaze of rage.
What are you talking about? It costs $2,200 a shot.
We bring in the scabs.
They're picketing for money.
You're through the looking glass.
We haven't even got enough money for drinks.
It's not worth the fight. This has been coming down the pike for a long time.
You got to know it's over when it's over.
This lousy little Caribbean rag is nothing but a wrapping for fish heads.
Plus, it's a lockout.
Fuck the locks.
I say we just walk in.
Anybody with me?
Bob?
You know I'm with you.
We didn't pay the bill.
Where's Chenault?
She's gone to New York.
She left me $100.
I don't believe it.
She didn't have any money.
You should use it to go with her.
Red-eye for 50 bucks.
No.
I'm not going anywhere.
By some means or another, I'm gonna put the paper out.
Print the bastard, then we're gone.
Face the reality, Paul.
There's no job, no money, no girl,
and a warrant out for our arrest.
There's no contest.
Donovan's right, it ain't worth the fight.
I'm not Donovan!
And I'm not like the others.
I'm telling you right now, next time some greasy moron
starts bullshitting me, I'm going after him.
All the way up to the president of the United States.
I just want to win one once.
One sheet.
You ain't gonna get far on $100.
Some of the scabs will do it for nothing.
We're gonna need 20 guys, plus vans.
No, no, all you need is two grand.
We're out of rum.
It's as if God, in a fit of disgust,
has decided to wipe us all out.
Yea, the cock crows thrice.
What about El Monstruo?
Bet the $100 on El Monstruo.
How do you know he lives here?
I saw him come out.
You better let me do this on my own.
If he gets it, we should bring it to Papa Nebo.
Who's that?
My witch doctor.
She's a hermaphrodite.
Stop here! Stop here!
By day, she drives a garbage truck.
By night, she becomes Papa Nebo,
the hermaphroditic oracle of the dead.
When permission is granted from Papa Samedi,
the keeper of the cemetery,
she'll visit,
and she'll dig up a corpse.
Certain organs of the disgrounded stiffs
are indispensable for use in ouangas.
This is horseshit, isn't it?
She cured my prick.
She wants to know what you want.
We want her to empower this fowl.
We want it blessed
and anything that tries to fight it, dead.
Bring forth the fowl.
She says that no fowl on Earth
could challenge this cockerel and survive.
Great.
How's she off for curses?
Pretty good.
Let's have a curse on Sanderson. Make his dick fall off.
And that fucker at the bank, Green.
Mr. Green.
Jesus!
Curse active!
Okay, come on.
One down, two to go.
Okay. I'm gonna call Moburg.
Okay.
Come on. Come on.
He isn't there.
He has to be.
He isn't there.
- Where have you been? - Sorry.
I never heard the phone.
How's it going?
Winning, man. We're winning.
Is everyone there? Is everyone there?
Yeah, everyone's here.
What about the vans?
What about the vans, Moburg?
Yeah, yeah. Yeah, vans.
You hear that?
We're on our way.
What the hell is going on?
He said he had the men.
"All claims against the former owners will be..."
"Signed on behalf of First Maritime Bank, Miami."
Sanderson's pal, Mr. Green.
Sorry, Paul.
I didn't know how to say.
They took all the machines out.
Not everything, but just the parts that matter.
I'll let you in.
All I wanted was a front page.
Probably for the best.
Probably would've never pulled it off.
How much did you guys win?
Just under six grand.
Oh, yeah, well, you...
At least you can pay off the bond now.
Screw the bond.
We're out of here.
It's over with.
There's a midnight Pan Am.
I'm not risking the airport.
No.
I figure this island owes us a boat.
And I'm fuckin' taking one of Sanderson's.
You smell it?
It's the smell of bastards.
It's also the smell of truth.
I smell ink.
I got to take the hen back.
Find yourself a trade wind.