Luck (2011–2012): Season 1, Episode 1 - Episode #1.1 - full transcript

Released from prison after three years, "Ace" Bernstein plots revenge against the colleagues who betrayed him. With his trusted aide/chauffeur Gus Demitriou acting as a front for his race horse investment, Ace seeks to reverse the sagging fortunes of a famous racetrack. Meanwhile, four dissolute gamblers at the race track - Jerry, Marcus, Renzo and Lonnie - pool their meager resources to make a Pick Six bet that could be worth millions. A key to their fortunes is a long-shot horse trained by Turo Escalante, a self-made success story with loads of talent and few scruples, whoʼs also training Gus/Ace's colt. Walter Smith, another more grizzled trainer, sees classic potential in an untested thoroughbred with impressive bloodlines.

LUCK
Episode 1

Okay.

How you doing, Ace?

We should get me a tape recorder.

- Meaning what?
- Meaning we should get a recorder.

I got a pencil, Ace. You want me
to write something down for you?

- You think you're funny? You're not.
- No, I got a pencil right here.

I got an old ad from Sears that I can
write on the back of the envelope.

Go ahead.

Your trees. How are your trees
in the backyard there?

Good. Thanks for asking.



This morning I was thinking it's
time to take the wraps off the figs.

All right, let me see
your horse owner's license.

I'm surprised the camera guy didn't ask
me who I thought I was kidding.

No ifs, ands, or buts,
you're that horse's owner.

Yes, I got it. I understand.
Understood.

You think you're the first
front in history?

That's frosted. They said
the chocolate-covereds weren't fresh.

- How'd it go?
- Big horse got down.

He slept for the night, Mr. Walter.
Even licked his tub clean.

You gonna bet
that pick six this afternoon?

I don't know. Maybe.

They say the jackpot
will top three million.

Maybe the last quarter the girl should
loosen up and let him stretch out.

Let the big man show his stuff today.



- Did I tell you that's frosted?
- You did.

Get some sleep.

Yeah, you know what I got. Yeah.
There you go.

What do you think?
Feel like stretching out?

Good morning !
Hey, Bruiser.

- About like last time?
- About like last time.

But maybe you let him stretch out
a little in the lane.

Great.
'Cause he's been pulling my arms off.

He wants to run.

All right, take him on down.

- His gut-sounds are a little slow.
- So see what's what.

- Don't you wish this was you?
- Loquita. A mental case.

Miguel, ven.

- You don't need no stick.
- Yes, sir, Mr. Escalante.

I got to stay here.

Jog him once the wrong way around
to loosen him up for his race.

I was telling Joey before, sir, I'm
so psyched getting to ride for you.

- We'll run big with this horse today.
- What?

Is this morning today
or this afternoon?

- What?
- Pinhead, is today this morning so far?

I guess, sir. Yes so.
Then jog him once the wrong way around

and shut up on what you don't know
before I call Porky Pig on you.

Yes, sir, Mr. Escalante.

Can't believe
you got that one to a race.

I can't believe
where you put your hands.

No displacement,
no obstruction or entrapments.

- Pretty sure it's just a gas colic.
- Leche I can give him?

Yeah, give him some milk of mag.
Once he's alert, just get him walking.

You met the limo driver yet?
The one that broke the bank in Vegas?

And buys this horse for two million? You
think they really landed on the moon.

- What, monkey business?
- For three years, he's a limo driver.

Who he work for before that
these three years is in jail?

- Michael Vick?
- Chester Bernstein. Ace Bernstein.

Gorilla business.

Long trip from Ireland, the quarantine.
He's entitled to a touch of colic, Turo.

Would you look back on him
this afternoon?

- Have you ever been to Ireland?
- No.

You have a heavy brogue.

For $2 million you got
some plain head on you.

You're just hobby-horsing him.

Why are you giving me a jockey
who's running his lips on my business?

- You're kidding, Turo.
- I don't kid, you son of a bitch.

He's chirping how he's gonna run him big
when I said that horse had no chance.

A trainer like you throws us a bone,
gives a kid a chance to ride for you,

and then he's gonna run
his mouth on you?

Just tell him shut the fuck up.
And loose lips sink boats.

I'm gonna take him to the woodshed,
believe me.

I'm tapped.

- You're what?
- I'm tapped out. I'm tapioca.

Yesterday you left
the grounds a $390 winner.

But then I hit the commerce casino
for a little poker fun after dark.

Three days' worth of pick six carryovers
worth several million dollars

and you hand your
bankroll to the ricers?

- Here's my picks.
- Fuck your picks, you degenerate prick.

- Where is your money?
- Don't wind yourself up.

- Your face is going different colors.
- Fuck my face.

Oh, you're running him around.

Oh, good.
Now here comes the brain surgeon.

Got my disability.
255 simoleons.

Meaning against the social security check
he'll get, he took out a payday advance,

which is the mumbo jumbo those joints
use to get around the usury laws.

That napkin is Jerry's whole
contribution. Sick degenerate.

Guess I still know
a peach when I see one.

You single the fourth.

I had the fourth a semi-spread.

A triple-bug apprentice.
Hasn't won 10 races in his life.

He's gonna single a horse that's
hasn't run in two years.

Yeah, but Escalante is the trainer.

- Hey, Joey. I met Mr. Escalante.
- Oh, yeah? How'd that go?

Good. You know, he's foreign.
He's a little hard to understand.

- You did some job.
- I did?

Pissing him off with your chirping
about how good this horse will run.

I was just saying something
to say something.

And that's what
"How's the weather?" is for.

With a great trainer I wanted
to have something to say.

Suppose he's making a bet. You think he
wants some big mouth riding his horse?

- He betting, Mr. Escalante?
- I don't know.

I don't want to represent you.
You're a bug. You ride everything hard.

And you don't chirp about
what ain't your business.

He could be on go, Joey.
Moves like shine on Saturday night.

Did I just say
to keep your mind right?

11 and two.
He pulled up at 23 and change.

Mr. Walter, listen.
This guy has got nine more gears.

Ronnie, wherever it is you're flopped,
find your coat, find your keys,

find your car, get to the gym.

Because if I didn't just see a derby
horse work, then I'm a Chinese dentist.

Plus the mount is open for you, Ronnie.
An exercise girl was up.

Call me back. Remember me?
Your fucking agent. You drunken prick.

Anyone seeking admission,
please clear the grounds

before the gates open at 10:30 unless
you're a credentialed track employee.

Anyone morbidly fat?
Anyone order a heart attack?

Yeah, well, I wouldn't hold my breath.
Oh, I forgot. You can't.

When's the last time you saw
your prick without a mirror?

- Got the pick six in your crosshairs?
- Yeah, I hold a few opinions.

Yeah, I'll be right there.

How about you? You gonna step up?

There may be more development
at the coffee shop.

- What kind of development?
- I'd as soon not say.

- A development of what type?
- No. So if it doesn't happen.

You're a moron.

Hey, do not reach out to that
3%-a-week-charging bloodsucker.

Welcome home, Mr. Bernstein.

If you've been partying up in my place,
Maurice, they better all be out.

If I missed one, send him down the
fire escape. We've been preparing it.

- How about this guy?
- The man with the golden arm.

I leave town,
he hits a slot for five million.

I only do this for fun now.

- I graduated, Mr. Bernstein.
- Good for you, kid. So did I.

- There he is.
- Why do you sound so surprised?

I'm not, because I never
guaranteed you'd be here.

You gonna sit at the counter,
you mind if I get by?

That's Lonnie, Marcus.
You met him once before.

And you're Jerry. We've met also,
but I don't expect you to remember.

Let's sit here together here.

You know what I still call you
when I ask them how you're doing?

- Asshole?
- The brains housing department.

- Is it handicapped accessible?
-I met you in Hollywood Park with Renzo.

You gave me a triple, which I had
to leave before I played it.

- Does this story end sad?
- No, no, no. I played it on T.V.G.

- 117 bucks it paid.
- Usual, usual, usual.

I'll have my usual.

And I'd always say to him
that he'll verify 100%...

- Hey, what do you want to eat?
- Eggs over easy, bacon burnt.

How's the brains housing department?
Always asking.

And he'd say some genius way you
guys picked out some horse to bet.

And the horse still lost.

- Home fries?
- Nah. I'm watching my figure.

No, what would I always say to you?

Let me once make half a score,
I'll bankroll that genius gimp.

Define... I'm afraid to ask.
Define "half a score."

Off two women insurance agents
paying me to fuck them senseless.

You ready, Ace?

- How'd you leave it with Escalante?
- I'd call him from a few minutes out.

- Your attitude, business, 100%.
- I admit I'm halfway nervous.

Letters and notes people
wrote you wishing you well.

- A whole box?
- Well, three years.

- I wrote or called all of them back.
- You're friendly with Escalante.

But you got all the friends you need.
Spare me the hat dance.

Just train my horse.

I'll illustrate this degenerate's mind,
why his vote's for singling the fourth.

- Jerry, he's saying.
- Off form it's completely open.

He should probably use every horse,
but he ain't handicapping the horses.

- He's handicapping Escalante.
- Jerry's thinking, Marcus feels.

Escalante enters a horse
away two years, all slow workouts,

and he gives the mount to a nobody
triple-bug apprentice.

If the horse jumps up,
who does that make the hero?

Escalante, Jerry's thinking.

We bet four deep in the fifth,
and we're five deep in the sixth.

But you single Escalante. You bet
only Escalante's horse and we win.

We just knocked out three-quarters
of everybody else's bets.

We're perfectly protected
in the three races subsequent.

If we make it to the last, the eighth
race in which we bet every horse,

we're into a $2 million jackpot.

Is the gist of his thinking.

- Brains housing.
- So where is Jerry?

He feels bad because
he tapped out in poker.

Probably got that fat fuck's fangs
in his neck.

Kagle!

- Would you loan you $1,000?
- I'm not asking for 1,000.

Well, one policy fits all.
And from now on it's $1,000 minimum.

- Why one policy? You're your own boss.
- Do I look self-employed in uniform?

As a Shylock you're self-employed.
Does one pant size fit all?

- Yeah, yeah, good. Insult my weight.
- Hat size, I said.

It's 1,000 minimum.
Three points a week on the balance.

And I ain't chasing you anymore
for vig on a lousy $300.

- Let me take the fucking 1,000 then.
- You do not qualify.

Fuck you, then,
and the Goodyear blimp.

Mark my pick six.

Thank you.

- Hi. How are you?
- Fine.

- You here to see Mr. DiRossi?
- Yeah.

Oh, there he is.
We're back to full strength.

Come into my office.

- So how you doing, Ace?
- Great.

- You're doing real well.
- Yeah, the club is still strong.

Last year we opened
Atlantic City and Miami.

But the jewel in the crown is a club
in Macau. It is a real draw, Ace.

Leon.

- Chicas. Bon temps roullez.
- Go get 'em, jock.

- How you doing, Mr. Escalante?
- Listen to me.

You keep him covered up
so he don't go.

When you ask him, you take
him wide to don't get a stop.

Yes, sir. I hope this is the first
of a lot of races I ride for you.

- Get on the horse, jock.
- Get on the horse.

Give me a pound.

He gonna finish for you. Get him wide,
don't get him fucking stopped.

Now, this is why the country
is in the shitter.

Stand-up guys go away while the mugs
steer us straight for the falls.

Far as the Greek, I appreciate
the trouble people went to.

He beat a slot. God bless him.

I wanted him kosher when he bought the
horse, showing income, paying taxes.

They needed the exercise, those
people you put through some hoops.

Who we hope that horse gives
pleasure to is you, Ace.

Yeah, but I got to keep
my distance from the track.

No, understood.

Till I feel out my supervised release,
if there's any give on the leash.

- Your idea for the venue...
- The race track? You're interested?

Supposedly close to belly-up.
But you knew that.

- Oh, it's patience and a bankroll.
- Brains and balls is what I'd say.

They're tapped in Sacramento.
The local tax base has shrunk in half.

If ever there was a time for
a casino to get through...

Right on the grounds, you're saying.

Of course there's hundreds and
hundreds of beautiful acres

with how many tens of millions
of people 30 minutes or less?

- But I can't get in the middle of that.
- No one would want you to.

I sometimes wonder
if I'm still an asset.

- Asset?
- Yeah.

Ace, you're the architect.
But you take your time.

You got a right to find your own stride.

Short of temper.
I don't hold my thoughts as well.

I had the Greek
get me this tape recorder.

- What's the matter?
- Nothing. No.

- It's a memory aid.
- It's like a good work-around.

After I do three years you suspect me? I
take a fall protecting how many people?

- I have a recorder. You got qualms?
- Absolutely not.

- You want to fucking toss me?
- Ace, basta.

Are you watching old movies? Don't
basta me, you fucking Guinea prick.

Three years!
Getting forgetful in everything else.

- Everyone appreciates what you did.
- I tore the buttons off my shirt.

- Everyone knows who you are.
- I make a fool out of myself first day.

A: You didn't.
B: You're with a friend.

Run Mr. Bernstein over to the Beverly
Hilton, Jimmy. Pull around back for him.

Thank you.

As far as that other topic, whenever
you feel like you want to talk about it,

I'll fly people in.

We'll see. My blood pressure
is sky-high right now.

Absolutely. Go, relax. Then you let
me know when you're ready.

You know, the Greek owning that horse,

I can think of worse opportunities for
an inside view of what's going on daily.

I shrunk.
I got to get new shirts.

Scratched. Screw that.

- You all right, kid?
- I'm good.

- Wait, wait, wait!
- Spring it.

Calmate, pinhead.

- How's he running, Jerry?
- Fourth or fifth.

- Yeah, but how's he running?
- Would you please shut the fuck up?

Come on, number fucking five!

Fucking stupid baby pinhead.
You got him trapped on the rail.

- Scootch over! Let me out.
- Do I look like your fucking daddy?

Watch it, man.

- Come on, baby. Come on.
- Where is he?

Go inside. Go inside!

- Come on!
- Go!

Oh, God.

- Oh, my God! He won!
- Did he win? Did he win?

That cajun can pump.

Holy cow, that horse run very good.

What an exciting finish for
the number five horse, Mon Gateau.

Whoever is the patron
saint of long shots,

executives all over the track are
now busy lighting candles to.

Multimillion-dollar
pick six payoff

distracts schmuck gamblers
from track's insolvency.

Check out Escalante. Serving it up
to the gringo owners and trainers cold.

- Hey, Mr. Escalante, we did good.
- I told you to take him wide.

- Mr. Escalante, what do you say?
- What a surprise.

I am on some roll.

Did you tell him that story of how
this dough I put up came about?

You already told him.

- You want to hear it again?
- No, some other time.

- Hey, Kagle's got the ticket.
- They called my prick the emperor.

- What the fuck?
- I said Kagle might have our same pick.

I want to gouge your eyes out.

I was going for juice,
he tells me I don't qualify.

- I'd like to watch you hit by a bus.
- He offers 50 for my figures.

I figured take the 50,
bet Escalante straight.

I wanted to pull my weight
in the syndicate.

Yeah, and if we win,
his ticket cuts the win in half.

- Do you know Kagle bought the ticket?
- No.

Do you know he did and you're a
weak-willed degenerate afraid to admit?

No, I don't know if he bought
the ticket, Dr. Phil.

Six horse won.
We won the fifth.

Yeah, yeah.
It's a big hurdle we just crossed.

- Who is this?
- We had an appointment.

- It's Mr. Demitriou. I'm at gate A.
- Okay. I come and pick you up, senor.

Ronnie, I'm about to put
our hand in on that horse.

Walter Smith,
barn 19 if you're on your way.

I hope you ain't picking up the phone
because you're not there, you prick.

The kid won, last race.

Want to go racing in a couple of weeks?

You don't know how special you are,
do you?

How you can run, who your daddy was.

How they killed him.

2,000 miles ain't gonna make
any difference.

Why didn't I do this?
Why didn't I do that?

Why didn't I hear it going on?

So, is there a more crucial
time the horse should shit?

He better, or sometimes even
they bite into their stomachs.

But your horse ain't walking
uncomfortable or looking behind himself.

- So all of that is good stuff?
- That's all good.

I wish that he would take a shit,
but I think he's okay.

- When do we race him?
- Not now. He tells us when he's ready.

- This horse won the fourth race.
- No kidding.

- 12-1. What a surprise.
- I wish I'd have known.

That makes you and me both.
Believe me.

- Give him a carrot, El Ganador.
- Nah, I don't want to fuck him up.

How you going to fuck him up?
That's what they eat.

- That's his name? El Ganador?
- El Ganador means winner in Spanish.

His name is Mon Gateau.

- Acting like you don't know.
- I never did it before. I swear to God.

- I'm gonna call you El Natural.
- Spare me the hat dance.

- I'll call you El Bullshitter.
- Like many other people.

We come out from the woods.
You can tell whoever would care.

Go! Yeah, seven!
Come on, get into him.

- Four's in front right now.
- Come on. Go !

Come on, seven.

Come on, seven.
Come on, get into him. Go! Go!

We're gonna win the pick six.

Anyone want to stay
low profile with the I.R.S.?

Any tax delinquencies, warrants,
garnishments, liens, judgments?

Anything they'll claim?
I'll steer you to a beard,

he'll claim the take on any
tax liability for a small fee.

You didn't bet?

What I don't understand
is that you had all of Jerry's picks.

You could have bought a whole ticket
by yourself. And you didn't bet?

Who's gonna spend 864$
for a single to win in the fourth?

Especially on that
spic Escalante's horse?

So here we are with every horse in the
last, so we cannot lose the pick six.

And it's just a matter of how big
the win is in the final race,

and you, as the saying goes,
with the "Morning Courier Express."

- He always has to humiliate me.
- No one's trying to humiliate you.

Yeah, well, tell that to
whoever put me in this body.

- Someone called Ronald McDonald.
- There's our possible payoffs, right?

- Look at that.
- $48,860 is the lowest, right?

There's nothing wrong
with $48,400 and change.

I'd prefer it to 2.7 million.
It's less of an adjustment.

You won't get
to ride the old man's horse.

Well, I'm gonna ask him anyway.

Once he tells me no,
I'll stop trying to make weight.

- You been with her before?
- No, sir. Away you go.

You crabby behind some, huh, Cher?
Let's loosen up that caboose.

- What's her name?
- It's tattered flag.

- First time on her?
- Yep.

Tie yourself on, bug.
He's gonna pop it.

- What's happening?
- Shut up.

Jesus Christ, Ronnie.

You stink of reefer and booze.
I've been calling you all fucking day.

- Where's the bug?
- Blue and silver. Way back.

23 and one. Too fast. Something
should be coming from out of it.

I don't get it. We bet every horse.
Who do we want?

The long shot's the biggest score.

Did you get us on that old man's horse?

The horse was sired by Delphi.
And with you in your present mode,

I held off from raising our hand because
I didn't think it was being responsible.

- Who's gonna ride him?
- Some exercise girl was up.

Look how they run for this kid.

The horse has got run with the kid,
we won on with Escalante.

Eight's our longest, right, Jerry?

Bug's got run.

Leon!

- Come on!
- One time, mama.

Outside's the upside, bug.

Oh, my God.

Easy does it, Cher. Easy.

Two's our co-longest, right, Jerry?

Two's the whole pot.

Chalk's on the outside.
She's drifting out.

- Two's drifting out?
- Chalk's drifting out.

Let's go, number two.
Chalk's drifting out.

What's happening?

Is the two drifting out
or the chalk now?

- Jesus Christ.
- Jesus Christ, come on.

Will someone please
tell me what's happening?

- We win. It's over. We won.
- We won.

Champion of the world! Heavyweight
champ! Everyone, kiss my ass.

2.68 million and some,
plus 33% of the withholding,

plus 15 consolation.

Humor me.

No, no,
I don't want to get it all crinkled.

Oh, beautiful for spacious skies

For amber waves of grain.

Okay, here he is.

Hello. Yes, sir.
The tellers have all been alerted.

They'll contact us as soon
as we find the winner.

Shame on us if we don't
make the 6:00 news.

Yes, sir. Absolutely.

Good for you, mama.
You good right here for now.

- You all right?
- Hurry up, doc.

Look here, girl.
Look at Leon, Cher.

Easy, girl. Easy, girl.

Easy. Good girl.

Come on, Cher.
We're good. We're good.

Look right here for me.

Come on, Cher.
Come on. That's it. Come on.

Good girl.

She was moving good, Ronnie.
I wouldn't have been asking her.

She was moving great.
I was watching.

Did you ever have that?
The light go out of their eyes?

You never get used to it.

That's why they make Jim Beam.

- Go on and get changed, kid.
- Okay, Joey.

- Where do you get off, Ronnie?
- About what?

- Telling that kid to go get drunk.
- I didn't say get drunk.

You should be pulling yourself up,
not dragging him down to where you are.

- I guess misery loves company, huh?
- You got no clue. You ain't been there.

Did you let the girl loosen
her hands, Mr. Walter?

Yeah.

He's a good one.

Okay, let's roll it.

It's a beautiful day at the track, and
some lucky patron is walking around

with the winning ticket for this
$2,687,000 winning pick six jackpot,

which is the largest jackpot
we've had here in quite some time.

I'll send my brother the maximum money
order for his commissary privileges.

I'm gonna send my aunt $1,000
that we lived with in Youngstown.

- Check it out.
- Do we admit we're the winners?

We come forward when we're good
and ready and we cash on our own time.

We're eager for the winner to come
forward so we can give him his money.

Tomorrow, when we get
this I.R.S. shit figured out.

We should stay in a motel.

Four rooms with four connecting
interior doors we need.

So it's kind of like
a four-room party suite

where everyone can constantly
keep an eye on each other.

Fuckers didn't do nothing.

We were in the back room putting
things together from the ground up...

Learning from those
that came before...

them that had a lot
of blood on their hands.

Ace, you want anything
from the kitchen?

Check the thermostat.
67°. 67 is perfect.

In there too hot, too cold.

- So how did it go?
- Good. The horse moved his bowels.

Took that as a positive.
When he landed, he was all bound up.

- But generally, how'd he look?
- All of his legs reached the ground.

- Escalante was satisfied?
- Yeah, he was grinning.

Those screws at Victorville,
they could buy Cadillacs what I paid

to let his race tapes
through the mail room.

That horse is all heart. He gets
by you, forget about going by him.

Roosters and birds. And goats. You'd
take yourself for being on a farm there.

- No, I know.
- I'm saying beside the horses.

- Oh, beside them?
- Yeah.

I saw a goat out there had
nuts the size of pumpkins.

- I hope to Christ he was bowlegged.
- He was bowlegged.

- How the hell did you know that?
- How else would he walk around?

- Escalante?
- Desi Arnaz?

Some fucking trainer.

I followed him 25 years, watching him
climb up the ladder from nothing.

In that regard, he reminds me of you.

- 7:45 and I'm falling asleep here.
- You had a full day.

As far as them that did what they...
they did to me...

- Are they moving the way you want?
- Yes, they'll move on that race track.

- You don't often peg that shit wrong.
- I think I played it okay.

- You're the new favorite, Greek.
- That's good, Ace.

All's I'm nervous is you relying on me
when I'm working out past my depth.

You don't know your own depth.

Probably I should get a girlfriend,
see if they reach out.

- One we trust or one we don't?
-I don't trust anyone, not even myself.

You I give a pass.

Subtitling
..........

LUCK

End episode 1