Glengarry Glen Ross (5 page)

Roma:
You sold eight Mountain View?

Levene:
You bet your ass. Who wants to go to lunch? Who wants to go to lunch? I’m buying.
(Slaps contract down on WiUiamson’s desk.)
Eighty-two fucking grand. And twelve grand in commission. John.
(Pause.)
On fucking deadbeat magazine subscription leads.

Williamson:
Who?

Levene
(Pointing to contract): Read
it. Bruce and Harriett Nyborg.
(Looking around.)
What happened here?

Aaronow:
Fuck. I had them on River Glen.

Levene
looks around.

Levene:
What happened?

Williamson:
Somebody broke in.

Roma:
Eight units?

Levene:
That’s right.

Roma:
Shelly . . . !

Levene:
Hey, big fucking deal. Broke a bad streak . . .

Aaronow:
Shelly, the Machine, Levene.

Levene:
You . . .

Aaronow:
That’s great.

Levene:
Thank you, George.

Baylen
sticks his head out of the room; calls in, “Aaronow.”
Aaronow
goes into the side room.

Levene:
Williamson, get on the phone, call Mitch . . .

Roma:
They took the phones . . .

Levene:
They . . .

Baylen:
Aaronow .
. .

Roma:
They took the typewriters, they took the leads, they took the
cash,
they took the
contracts
. . .

Levene:
Wh . . . wh . . . Wha . . . ?

Aaronow:
We had a robbery.
(Goes into the inner room.)

Levene:
(Pause.)
When?

Roma:
Last night, this morning.
(Pause.)

Levene:
They took the leads?

Roma:
Mmm.

Moss
comes out of the interrogation.

Moss:
Fuckin’ asshole.

Roma:
What, they beat you with a rubber bat?

Moss:
Cop couldn’t find his dick two hands and a map. Anyone talks to this guy’s an
asshole
. . .

Roma:
You going to turn State’s?

Moss:
Fuck you, Ricky. I ain’t going out today. I’m going home. I’m going home because nothing’s
accomplished
here . . . . Anyone
talks
to this guy is . . .

Roma:
Guess what the Machine did?

Moss:
Fuck the Machine.

Roma:
Mountain View. Eight units.

Moss:
Fuckin’ cop’s got no right talk to me that way. I didn’t rob the place . . .

Roma:
You hear what I said?

Moss:
Yeah. He closed a deal.

Roma:
Eight units. Mountain View.

Moss
(To
Levene): You did that?

Levene:
Yeah.
(Pause.)

Moss:
Fuck you.

Roma:
Guess who?

Moss:
When . . .

Levene:
Just now.

Roma:
Guess who?

Moss:
You just this morning . . .

Roma:
Harriet and blah blah Nyborg.

Moss:
You did that?

Levene:
Eighty-two thousand dollars.
(Pause.)

Moss:
Those fuckin’
deadbeats
. . .

Levene:
My ass. I told ‘em.
(To
Roma:) Listen to this: I said . . .

Moss:
Hey, I don’t want to hear your fucking war stories . . .

Roma:
Fuck
you,
Dave . . .

Levene:
“You have to believe in
yourself
. . . you—”look—“alright . . . ?”

Moss
(To
Williamson): Give me some leads. I’m going out . . . I’m getting out of . . .

Levene:
“. . . you have to believe in
yourself
. . .”

Moss:
Na, fuck the leads, I’m going home.

Levene:
“Bruce, Harriet . . . Fuck
me,
believe in
yourself
. . . ”

Roma
: We haven’t got a lead . . .

Moss:
Why not?

Roma:
They took ‘em . . .

Moss:
Hey, they’re fuckin’ garbage any case . . . . This whole goddamn . . .

Levene:
“. . . You look around, you say, ‘This one has so-and-so, and I have nothing . . . ”’

Moss:
Shit.

Levene:
“‘
Why
? Why don’t I get the opportunities . . . ?’”

Moss:
And did they steal the contracts . . . ?

Roma:
Fuck
you
care . . . ?

Levene:
“I want to tell you something, Harriett . . . ”

Moss:
. . . the fuck is
that
supposed to mean . . . ?

Levene:
Will you shut up, I’m telling you this . . .

Aaronow
sticks his head out.

Aaronow:
Can we get some coffee . . . ?

Moss:
How ya doing?
(Pause.)

Aaronow:
Fine.

Moss:
Uh-huh.

Aaronow:
If anyone’s going, I could use some coffee.

Levene:
“You
do
get the . . .”
(To
Roma:) Huh? Huh?

Moss:
Fuck
is that supposed to mean?

Levene:
“You
do
get the opportunity. . . . You
get
them. As
I
do, as
anyone
does . . . ”

Moss:
Ricky? . . . That I don’t care they stole the contracts?
(Pause.)

Levene:
I got ‘em in the kitchen. I’m eating her crumb cake.

Moss:
What does that mean?

Roma:
It
means,
Dave, you haven’t closed a good one in a month, none of my business, you want to push me to answer you.
(Pause.)
And so you haven’t got a contract to get stolen or so forth.

Moss:
You have a mean streak in you, Ricky, you know that . . . ?

Levene:
Rick. Let me tell you. Wait, we’re in the . . .

Moss:
Shut the fuck up.
(Pause.)
Ricky. You have a mean streak in you. . . .
(To
Levene:) And what the fuck are
you
babbling about . . . ? (
To
Roma:)
Bring that shit up. Of my volume. You were on a bad one and I brought it up to
you
you’d harbor it.
(Pause.)
You’d harbor it a long long while. And you’d be right.

Roma:
Who said “Fuck the Machine"?

Moss:
“Fuck the Machine”? “Fuck the Machine”
? What is this.
Courtesy
class . . . ? You’re
fucked,
Rick—are you fucking
nuts
? You’re hot, so you think you’re the
ruler
of this place . . . ?! You want to . . .

Levene:
Dave . . .

Moss:
. . . Shut up. Decide who should be dealt with how? Is that the thing? I come into the fuckin’ office today, I get humiliated by some jagoff cop. I get accused of . . . I get this
shit
thrown in my face by you, you genuine shit, because you’re top name on the board . . .

Roma:
Is that what I did? Dave? I humiliated you? My
God
. . . I’m
sorry
. . .

Moss:
Sittin’ on top of the
world,
sittin’ on top of the
world,
everything’s fucking
peach
fuzz . . .

Roma:
Oh, and I don’t get a moment to spare for a bust-out
humanitarian
down on his luck lately. Fuck
you,
Dave, you know you got a big
mouth,
and
you
make a close the whole
place
stinks with your
farts
for a week. “How much you just ingested,” what a big
man
you are, “Hey, let me buy you a pack of gum. I’ll show you how to
chew
it.” Your
pal
closes, all that comes out of your mouth is
bile,
how fucked
up
you are . . .

Moss:
Who’s
my pal . . . ? And what are you, Ricky, huh, what are you, Bishop
Sheean
? Who the fuck are
you,
Mr. Slick . . . ? What are you, friend to the
workingman
? Big deal. Fuck
you,
you got the memory a fuckin’
fly.
I never liked you.

Roma:
What is this, your farewell speech?

Moss:
I’m going home.

Roma:
Your farewell to the troops?

Moss:
I’m not going home. I’m going to Wisconsin.

Roma:
Have a good trip.

Moss
(Simultaneously with “trip”):
And fuck
you.
Fuck the
lot
of you. Fuck you
all.

Moss
exits. Pause.

Roma
(To
Levene): You were saying?
(Pause.)
Come on. Come on, you got them in the kitchen, you got the stats spread out, you’re in your shirt-sleeves,
you can
smell
it. Huh? Snap out of it, you’re eating her
crumb
cake.
(Pause.)

Levene:
I’m eating her
crumb
cake . . .

Roma:
How was it . . . ?

Levene:
From the store.

Roma:
Fuck
her
. . .

Levene:
“What we have to do is
admit
to ourself that we see that opportunity . . . and
take
it.
(Pause.)
And that’s it.” And we
sit
there.
(Pause.)
I got the pen out . . .

Roma:
‘’Always be closing . . . ”

Levene:
That’s what I’m
saying.
The
old
ways. The
old
ways . . . convert the motherfucker . . .
sell
him . . .
sell
him . . .
make him sign the check. (Pause.)
The . . . Bruce, Harriett . . . the kitchen, blah: they got their money in
government
bonds. . . . I say
fuck
it, we’re going to go the whole route. I plat it out eight units. Eighty-two grand. I tell them. “This is now. This is that
thing
that you’ve been dreaming of, you’re going to find that suitcase on the train, the guy comes in the door, the bag that’s full of money. This is it,
Harriett
. . . ”

Roma
(Reflectively):
Harriett . . .

Levene:
Bruce
. . . “I don’t want to fuck
around
with you. I don’t want to go
round
this, and
pussy-foot
around the thing, you have to look back on this. I do, too. I came here to do good for you and me. For
both
of us. Why take an interim position?
The only arrangement I’ll accept
is full investment. Period. The whole eight units. I know that you’re saying ‘be safe,’ I know what you’re saying. I know if I left you to yourselves, you’d say ‘come back tomorrow,’ and when I walked out that door, you’d make a cup of
coffee
. . . you’d sit
down
. . . and you’d think ‘let’s be safe . . . ‘and not to disappoint me you’d go
one
unit or maybe two, because you’d become scared because you’d met possi
bil
ity. But this won’t do, and that’s not the subject. . . .” Listen to this, I actually said this. “That’s not the subject of our
evening
together.” Now I handed them the pen. I held it in my hand. I turned the contract, eight units eighty-two grand. “Now I want you to sign.”
(Pause.)
I sat there. Five minutes. Then, I sat there, Ricky,
twenty-two minutes
by the kitchen
clock. (Pause.)
Twenty-two minutes by the kitchen clock. Not a
word,
not a
motion.
What am I thinking? “My arm’s getting tired?”
No.
I
did
it. I
did
it. Like in the
old
days, Ricky. Like I was taught . . . Like, like, like I
used
to do . . . I did it.

Roma:
Like you taught me . . .

Levene:
Bullshit, you’re . . . No. That’s raw . . . well, if I
did,
then I’m
glad
I did. I,
well.
I locked on them. All on them, nothing on me. All my thoughts are on them. I’m holding the last thought that I spoke: “Now is the time.”
(Pause.)
They signed, Ricky. It was
great.
It was fucking great. It was like they wilted all at once. No
gesture
. . . nothing. Like together. They, I swear to God, they both kind of
imperceptibly slumped.
And he reaches and takes the pen and signs, he passes it to her, she signs. It was so fucking solemn. I just let it sit. I nod like this. I nod again. I grasp his hands. I shake his hands. I grasp
her
hands. I nod at her like this. “Bruce . . . Harriett . . .” I’m beaming at them. I’m nodding like this. I point back in the living room, back to the sideboard.
(Pause.) I didn’t fucking know there was a sideboard there!!
He goes back, he brings us a drink. Little shot glasses. A pattern in ‘em. And we toast. In silence.
(Pause.)