The clip meeting with rip reed from Smokin' Aces (2006) with Jason Bateman
How you doing? Pete. Hello. Rip Reed. Come in. Good. Good.
Great. Come on. What's that in there...
Hello? Great. Come on in. Sorry about that.
Hey, Hollis. Rip Reed. Hello, Hollis. Come on in.
So, Jack, he tells me you guys a couple of ex-cops?
Yeah, we worked vice, like, 6 years. Is that right?
Four. Four years.
About six years. Vice.
Four, six, five. They didn't teach you how to count, I guess, huh?
But I bet you guys got a bunch of stories, right? I don't.
I grew up soft with the private schools and little blazers, you know, and...
Everyone talked things out, you know?
No one ever threw any blows. Still to this day, never punched in the face.
Imagine that? I'm pretty much a pantywaist.
I don't say this to be self-deprecating. I just, you know,
don't have much of an opinion of myself. I'd much rather be like you guys.
You know, bar fighters and big, swinging dicks, taking care of shit.
You know, sadly, this is it. You know, it's disgusting. Thanks, God!
Dog-pile of piss-poor physique on top of a small cock and hereditary alcoholism.
I appreciate it!
I'm babbling. I do that drunk. Please forgive.
Let's get to the business at hand.
This wanted felon here, Buddy Israel, little Rick Springfield, I guess.
And his bail-bond bobbing around up there out at the lake.
Rip, hand to God, you got nothing to worry about with this.
Yeah? Okay? I've assembled a team now.
We're gonna go in, we're gonna get this guy,
and everyone is gonna leave the theater grinning.
No problem. Will not be a problem. No problem.
Great, that's good. You're feeling it, you're feeling it. Come on.
Outstanding! Get it up there!
Come on. Come on, man. And bones it.
Huh? Right there, and then padlock it and then you put the chain on it.
That's a new one I'm working on.
Really getting the hairy eyeball off that guy. No, no. No, no.
He's all right? He's all right. Tell him.
This is good, though, what you're telling me. All right? I need to hear this stuff.
Helps allay my fears. I pass that peace of mind along to my partners.
All right. Look up. Hey, man. That's not yours.
Put the fucking rabbit down.
Appreciate it. Get your dick-beaters off it.
Couple of things. The hangers-on, his posse, you know,
they're all strapped or packing heat, whatever the phrase is.