All language subtitles for Ballers (2015) - S03E06 - I Hate New York (1080p BluRay x265 Kappa)

♪ Kane is in the building, nigga... ♪

♪ Now tell me how you love it,
you know you at the top ♪

♪ When only heaven's
right above it, we on ♪

♪ 'Cause we on ♪

♪ Who else is really trying
to fuck with Hollywood Cole? ♪

♪ I'm with Marley G, bro ♪

♪ Flying Hollygrove chicks
to my Hollywood shows ♪

♪ And I wanna tell you something
that you probably should know ♪

♪ This that "Slumdog
Millionaire" Bollywood flow ♪

♪ And, uh ♪

♪ My real friends
never hearing from me ♪

♪ Fake friends write the wrong
answers on the mirror for me ♪

♪ That's why I pick and
choose, I don't get shit confused ♪

♪ Don't like my women single,
I like my chicks in twos ♪

♪ And these days all the
girls is down to roll ♪

♪ I hit the strip club and all
them bitches find the pole ♪

♪ Plus, I been sippin', so this
shit is moving kinda slow ♪

♪ Just tell my girl to tell her
friend that it's time to go ♪

Sync & corrections by Mr. C
www.addic7ed.com - BluRay Sync by kOoL tHuG

- Hey.
- Hey, good morning, Bret.

- Comrades!
- Mr. Anderson.

- You know what? Call me Bret.
- Seriously?

Yeah, I mean, what the fuck?

I think we're there. Come here.

- Oh.
- Mwah. I love this guy.

- Wow.
- I feel the same way, Bret.

Hey, now that Hastings
came through with the...

with the land and the $100 million,

I really think it's our
turn to step it up.

- We gotta do this.
- All we gotta do is get half

of what this monstrosity is gonna cost

and the bank will cover the rest, Bret.

Well, my rich foreign friends

are opening their
checkbooks as we speak,

so pack your bags, gentlemen.

We are going on a little road trip.

- Hey!
- Where we headed, Bret?

First up, Saudi Arabia,

then China, then Germany,
and then the UK.

These guys are so enamored
with American sports,

they can't wait to claim
their little piece.

How about we just call them?

We're... we're not
texting Mommy and Daddy

for beer money like
goddamn college students.

Come on, if we don't have the money
by next week's owners' meeting,

then Bossman can't swing
the votes our way.

Plus, we can't leave ASM
abandoned that long.

I'm thinking with its significant stake
in the global real estate market

that Anderson Financial would
find a proposal like this

- extremely intriguing.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

We are not going to fucking New York.

Come on, they already know

what we're capable of
accomplishing, Bret.

No, no, no.

Yes, and betting on the mother ship
is far greater than going global.

Don't do that. Don't do that.
It's four hours away.

No go! You guys might not know this,

but I'm not exactly
on the greatest terms

with the board at the current moment.

- Your name is on the building.
- Doesn't mean diddly dick.

I'm basically just an
employee like you two humps.

You're an employee
with a gigantic yacht

and an amazing mansion in Palm Beach.

Come on.

Yeah, you can do this.
You're the man, Bret.

It's the best play we got.

I believe in you.

We. We believe in you, Bret.

Stop calling me Bret.

- That the quad?
- Yeah. No dairy, just like you asked.

Got one for myself. The stuff
makes my nerves all jangly.

Maybe it's something else.

Can we not beat around the bush

and just talk about what
happened the other night?

Your wife's a great cook.

Thank her for the to-go plate.

Look, we all thrive on
competition in this business.

And the urge to win is exactly
how we all got to where we are.

But if you and Coach Berg
can't get on the same page,

well, all we got is a
house built on sand.

The same page?

We're not even in the same book or the
same fucking library, for that matter.

Okay, so then let's write
a new book together.

Good idea. I got the perfect title...

"Finding a New Head Coach."

You're gonna let Berg go?

No, I think since you two
have gotten so close,

you're the man to do it.

No, you ain't gonna pull
that shit on me again.

This is the head coach, not
some offensive lineman.

Better the news comes from a friend.

Maybe you and Julie can
whip him up a Last Supper.

Be sure and bring me some leftovers.

Amen.

Damn, T, you got enough food?

Fuck you, Jason. I'm eating for two.

- Well, me and this nigga.
- What's the deal with my new contract?

Well, the Pats, they're digging
in on a one-year deal.

- Cheap motherfuckers.
- Hey, it's just a starting point.

You know I'm gonna get them to two.

I never missed an assignment
or was late for a meeting,

and I caught 104 passes last year.

On 138 targets. Rick's
the good-hands man.

- It's not personal.
- Well, I just want my money.

I practically played for free
the last two seasons, J.

You asked for a ring, you got one.

You want some more money, we're
gonna grind it out with Belichick.

Let me get on it, you
enjoy your quinoa, okay?

- I'll call you later.
- Please do.

What's wrong with you, man?

You're gonna put somebody
eye out with a grapefruit.

Get the fuck outta here.
Somebody should kick him out.

- What are you doing?
- That wasn't me! It was that guy!

What are you doing?

Hannah!

Hannah, my love,

can I get another drink, and
make it a real double this time?

- Yes, of course.
- Thank you.

We land in, like, 10 minutes.

Yeah, like that's ever
stopped me before.

Oh, the pilot says we're being rerouted.

Wait, wait, what? Hold on, what?

What's that? What?

Can you make it a triple
if we're crashing?

Anderson Financial moved your
meeting to the Hamptons.

Yeah, whoa, whoa. Why, why, why?

The CEO didn't return to the city as
planned, so we land in 20 minutes.

- Cool.
- I'll get you that drink.

Probably having a death cult meeting.

It's okay. It's just a
change in location.

Now we gotta listen to that prick brag

about his fancy fucking beach house.

It's gonna work out in
our favor, all right?

Casual setting, it's good for business.

That's right, we do our best
work outside of the office.

I closed Josh Norman at The Body Shop.

Yes, and then the Hamptons
is where Roc Nation

closed that huge Kevin Durant
deal for the Warriors.

That's right, good karma.

What are you, a fucking Buddhist now?

Bret, do you wanna go over the
P&Ls one more time before we land?

I know what the damn...
I know the pitch, okay?

I'd just rather do it at
a One Direction concert.

I wish you'd stay sitting
in one direction.

I'm trying.

And now because of your
brisket, I gotta go fire Berg.

I didn't know it was gonna
turn into a steel cage match.

You had everybody at the table
holding hands, saying grace.

Coach Berg only prays for victory.

I was trying to bring God to the table.

Yeah, to break bread
with the antichrist.

You don't want my help,
then stop asking.

Why you calling me at work anyway?

I just thought you should know.

You want somebody to
blame for your mess,

go find a big-ass mirror.

You...!

- Julie Greane.
- Hey!

- You're early, Ricky.
- I am, I am indeed.

Eager to hear all is
well upstairs, you know.

- please call 271...
- Hey.

- You remember TTD.
- Unfortunately, I do.

- Ms. Dr. Greane.
- Hey. Just go in there.

- After you.
- All right.

Doc, I'm concerned.

He's had dizziness, headaches,

light sensitivity, some
serious-ass memory problems.

I remember telling you
to stay the fuck home.

And he's been irritable as fuck, too.

You need to see a neurologist.

Now, it would be unethical
for me to examine your head.

But I do have a friend that works in
the south wing that can talk to you.

She specializes in brain injuries.

All right, I trust you.

And if you trust her, let's go with it.

All right, here's her card.

Nobody can know about this,
not even Chuck, okay?

I won't say a word, and Dr.
Robbins is very discreet.

Thank you.

You're welcome. I'll
tell her you're coming.

- Bring it in, Doc.
- No.

Damn, I'm seeing Charles
in a whole new light.

If we get bogged down in
private equity bullshit,

I'm just gonna break out
some locker room stories.

Yeah, maybe spare them the one about

how you took a shit in
Chad Pennington's cleats.

- What do you say?
- He deserved it.

You okay, boss?

Yeah, fine. Yeah, I'm fine.

Shit, man, I'd live here.

Yeah, it's a nice
one, but you know what?

Who gives a shit how nice it is?

We're gonna go in there and kill it.
Come on.

Hey, guys, there's something
I haven't quite told you...

- There's my big bro.
- Hey, hey, hey, hey, there he is.

How'd you like the new jet?

Well, the gold-plated seat
belt buckles, very nice touch.

My colleagues... Joe, Spencer.

My brother Julian.

Wow. Hey, we've heard
so much about you.

- Yeah, he goes on and on and on.
- I bet he does, I bet he does.

- Come on, let's go inside.
- On and on.

Yeah, come grab a drink.

- Welcome.
- Thank you.

Anderson Financial's core business

has always been real estate development.

This project goes far beyond

any state-of-the-art retractable-roof
stadium ever constructed.

970,000 square feet of retail space...

All right, so let me get this straight.

So, our dalliance into sports with ASM

has somehow turned into
building an NFL stadium?

That dalliance has proved
well worth the company's while.

It's astounding that you're
even involved in sports.

I mean, this guy was always the last
one to be picked when we were kids.

You were a superstar, though,
when it came to eating paste.

Maybe that's why you started
balding in the 9th grade, huh?

That's funny. What the
fuck are you laughing at?

- I wasn't.
- If you're gonna pitch me a sports complex,

I wanna hear from the sports guy.

How about it, Spencer?

Well, it's really not my place.

- Mr. Anderson's the boss.
- No, I'm the boss, applesauce.

Not him.

- Mmm.
- All right, very good.

Lay it on me, come on.

Explain to me why we should risk

a portion of the family fortune
to pay for this thing.

All right.

- I'd love to.
- Me, too.

Go, go!

Back up!

I'm watching you, Holland.

- Mine, mine!
- Look, why is he...?

- Mine!
- 96% of the time...

96% of the time, your
head is in your ass!

Sprint to the spot, get
set, and look the ball in.

What the fuck is wrong with your brain?!

- Hey, Coach.
- Charles.

You got a sec?

Oh, no, don't tell me old Ziegfart's

still getting on you
for the other night.

Yeah, I'm still catching
my fair share for that,

but that's not why I'm here.

He sent me down here to let you go.

- You're firing me, Charles?
- No, Siefert's firing you.

- I'm just telling you.
- That chickenshit.

Yeah, it's all kinds of wrong.

Oh, is it all kinds of wrong, Charles?

- You ain't the one getting fired.
- No, but, I mean...

But you ain't the one getting fired.

I'm getting fired. I should've cut him.

The other night when I had him
on your dining room table,

I had my eyes on your
wife's brisket knife.

I swear to God, I saw it... I
saw it in my mind, Charles.

I could see it... I was
gonna pick up the knife,

I was gonna stick it right
in his fucking face.

I couldn't quite get to it, though.

You had me, so I popped him instead.

It's probably better that
you didn't stab him.

Fuck it. Fuck it. It's all good.

It's all good, Charles.

I'll have another job in a week.

This son of a bitch, when they fire him,

ain't no team in the NFL
is gonna touch him.

And I'll tell you something else,

all these players that are
killing it out here...

Sutton, all of them...
those are your picks.

- Everybody knows it.
- Thanks, Coach. That's nice of you to say.

Fuck nice, Charles. I don't do nice.
I hate nice.

- Fuck nice. Say it.
- Fuck nice.

You're so fucking nice, Charles.

And you were right about Kisan,

and he was a moron for
not to signing him.

Yeah! Hey, good luck, Berg.

- Fuck you, Charles.
- Okay.

- I got it!
- No!

No!

Watch the ball. What about him?

Uh, he didn't... he didn't
say anything about Csonka.

Didn't say anything about Csonka, huh?
Fuck you!

The ball doesn't care about you!

What's going on?

Siefert sent me down here to let him go.

- Aw, man!
- Your heads are in your ass!

They're in there! Get 'em out!

- God!
- I think he made the right call.

See you, Coach!

You know, the last time I was
in New York for business,

I sacked Eli three times.

Knocked his dick in the dirt.

You know, the transition's
been kind of abrupt,

you know, going from
lining up on Sundays

to high-level finance with
these aces over here.

Yeah, no, I know who you are, Spencer.
I pay your salary.

So save the anecdotes for your
Hall of Fame speech, you know?

- Okay.
- All right.

Well, we've got $100 million

and a promise to deliver
land from Wayne Hastings.

- Oh, the casino guy?
- Yeah, the casino guy.

Yeah, Wayne understands that the NFL

is the most profitable
sports league on earth,

and there are only so many opportunities
that come along like this.

I mean, you're talking about an enormous
real estate play with an A-list tenant.

The Raiders had a great season.

It's a shame Derek Carr
went down when he did.

Yeah, he was a great QB.

Let me tell you something about
this stadium we're talking about.

It's just not gonna be Raiders
games and Super Bowls.

Think about it... so, year-round
we got college football,

we'll have UFC, Final Four,

soccer, concerts... we're
gonna have everything.

It's a big swing.

Plan to divest yourself of your clients?

Never, no.

That's the ground we
built the company on.

You can't possibly hope to
handle the day-to-day at ASM

while managing a billion-dollar
real estate venture.

I've been handling the clients while
Spencer runs point on this project.

- Yeah, moving along pretty smoothly.
- Joe's been crushing it.

I read that one of your highest
earners was suspended for pot.

Yeah, Vernon Littelfield.

The kid made an honest mistake.

Still, got him four games.

Read it on Twitter before
you guys got here.

Well, it's no wonder you
guys are thinking bigger.

I mean, the client side
must be getting tedious.

Oh, my God, what the fuck?!

Jesus Christ, what is this,

a business presentation
or a goddamn inquisition?

You know what? Can
somebody please bring Bret

a tub of paste to help
him calm his nerves?

You see that? That's why I
didn't wanna come to New York.

Whip it up. He likes to make a mustache.

Put a crown on your head, call
yourself king of the idiots.

Tend to your guns.

Fucking piece of shit.
You know what you are?

It's so bad, I can't even say it.

Bret, come on. God damn it, Julian!

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

You're the fucking CEO
of a major company

and you're letting this sibling bullshit

get in the way of a
massively lucrative deal?

You got me up here fucking
trying to tap dance for you.

Ah, now we're finally
getting to the root

of what you actually do
for this company, see?

- You're a dancer.
- Oh, don't do that.

Ah, you're funny. Let me tell you
something, motherfucker, I ain't no dancer.

But I'm the guy who
takes care of his guys,

which is a lot more
than I can say for you.

So go fuck yourself, fuck-face.

- Fuck you.
- Ooh, the double.

His fingers smell.

Well, bravo. Bravo, Spencer!

Feel free to knock over something
expensive on your way out.

I was kidding!

That was me! It was a picture
of you and Dad, you fuck-face.

Type the numbers in the
order they appear.

- Let's go, I'm ready.
- All right.

One more and we'll move on.

- One more.
- You got this. You got it.

Pssh.

Seven, four,

three, four,

nine, six, one.

Man, I can't do that shit,

and I ain't never even played football.

I see what you're saying. I'm
gonna be quiet, Doc. I'm sorry.

Let's test your verbal fluency.

Okay? This is oral word association.

I'd like you to say as many words as
you can that begin with the letter C.

They can't be proper nouns

and they can't be names
of people or places.

Go.

Car.

Carry.

- Cake. Cave.
- Mm-hmm.

Carrot.

Carrying.

Try not to reuse a word
with a different ending.

- You got it, you got it.
- Church.

- Chapel.
- Those ain't the same either.

- Mm-hmm.
- Good job.

She ain't say no curse words.

I mean, it's right there for the taking.

- Cunt.
- Okay, that'll do.

Good job.

Based on the neurocognitive
and physical exams...

I can see that you're suffering

from post-concussion syndrome, Ricky.

- What?
- Though, I haven't figured out

what your friend's problem is.

I just smoke a lot of dope.

Your brain needs to rest and heal.

You should avoid football,

stay away from all strenuous activities

and stressful situations
for at least a month.

Four weeks?

And it might be longer.

I mean, there's no real way to tell.

Eating brain-healthy foods can
help the healing process.

Things like blueberries and avocados.

Wait, you're saying my brain is jacked

and the answer is guacamole?

I'm just recommending possible
ways to speed your recovery.

We got it, Doc.

I'll make sure he's rested.

I'll be good by the beginning
of this season, though, right?

Don't assume that.

It could take some more time.

What do you mean
the plane is grounded?

- Mechanical issue.
- No, no, we gotta go back.

We gotta go back to Miami.

We can't fly without
a fuel control unit.

You know anything about FCUs?

I know I gotta FCU the fuck outta here.

I'm afraid I can't help you right now.

- I'm sorry.
- There's nothing wrong with the plane.

I know that.

It's fuck-face.

My brother, he's fucking us.

Yeah, 'cause he's a fucking
asshole, that's why.

I gotta tell you, I'm still surprised

you didn't tell us he was the CEO.

Defense mechanism, my
subconscious speaking.

Because of all the
emotional abuse you took.

No, because he's a dick.

Let's say it together one time...

- I...
- I...

- fucking hate New York!
- fucking hate New York.

I fucking hate New York!

I don't hate New York.

Well, you're gonna love
this message from Virginia.

She can't get us out
till tomorrow morning.

- Oh, sweet.
- Let's go to my favorite joint.

- Happy hour.
- Okay!

Now you're talking.

Motive!

Look at her ass right there, bro.

I'll set up
the press conference.

All right, can I change my number to 26?
Today's date.

That's how much it means
to me to be a Dolphin.

- Actually, it's the 25th.
- Oh, shit, 25. Even better, right?

- I'll hit up the equipment manager.
- Appreciate it.

Hey, great to have you onboard.

- Be an exciting season.
- Indeed, man. Thank y'all.

- Whoo-hoo!
- Man, whosever calling the plays

is gonna have a fucking field day.

You look good, Chuck.

Yeah, baby!

When'd you change your mind?

I thought you had concerns.

He brings his boys, he brings his boys.

Wh...?

Well, uh, in that case,

he won't let us down.

He won't let me down

'cause he's your responsibility now.

He rushes for 1,000 yards, stays
out of trouble, I'm a genius.

He gets pulled over with
a gun under his seat,

you fucked up for raising the idea.

Win-win for me, lose-lose for you.

You made a great decision signing him.

We'll see.

We'll see.

I'm taking the Pats' offer.

Well, they haven't
responded to our counter yet.

Take the first damn offer!

Money isn't everything, J.

Look, I can get more out of him.

It's just gonna take a
little bit more time.

- No drops! Nigga, what you doing?
- Man, you threw it...

How much time do any of us
really have, though, J?

You actually want me to answer that?

What I want you to do is lock
down that deal, all right?

You know, it's a pretty big turn.

Once we accept, there's no going back.

Don't want to. Close that
shit in the morning.

All right, consider it done.

Bring it. Ooh, there it is!

- Don't... don't throw those.
- All right.

Looking like me.

Vern, Vern, Vern, Vern,

listen to me, please.

You should be thanking
the good Lord in heaven

- that you only got four games.
- Shit.

Don't worry about that.

You're gonna make up for your salary hit

with your asset allocation,

which is outperforming

competing stock and bond
indices, by the way,

and mutual funds and hedge funds.

You're welcome.

The VR company is standing beside you.

- We're all good.
- Let me talk to him.

Yeah, we'll talk when we get home, okay?

Listen, hang on, Spencer
wants to talk to you.

- He hung up.
- You fucking hung up.

I... he hung up first!

Wow, Joe is turning into Spencer 2.0.

- Yeah, a lot smaller.
- A lot sexier.

Your driver told
me I'd find you guys here.

You know, Bret and I used to sneak
in here when we were teenagers

back when we used to like each other.

You know what? Take your own note...

- Yes?
- and skip the nostalgia.

Come on, come on.

I didn't ground the jet to be a dick.

I mean, I did get a laugh out of it.

- Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.
- But, really, I just, you know,

wanted to take some time
just for my own research.

And I found that NFL franchise values

have gone up at a ridiculous
rate of 20% per year...

No shit?

and that's worth more than
2.3 billion on average.

Right, and the Raiders in Vegas
would be near the top of that list.

As would the value of the stadium,

which is what we've been
trying to tell you.

Thing is, uh, no one at this bar

is available or capable
enough to run this venture.

I mean, this maniac over here,

he can't go three minutes before he
tells somebody to go fuck themselves.

Well, that "go fuck yourself"
was specifically for you.

Yeah, usually, he's way more subdued.

I don't believe you.

So I'm paying for this thing,

but I will take control.

Okay? We're gonna hire somebody

to oversee the real estate development,

somebody with expertise.

And I will act as CEO 'cause
that's my area of expertise,

and we will all make some money.

That's
a very generous offer.

I know.

Now go toddle off and
whisper amongst yourselves

while I order myself a gin gimlet.

Get Suzie here a gin gimlet.

He even drinks like a tool.

Yeah.

All right, this is everything we wanted.

It's not what we wanted.

- Not what we want.
- It's what everybody wants...

to not do shit and get rich.

That's the American fucking dream.

I started ASM to avoid
that sense of entitlement.

I want to build something
with my own two hands,

with our own two hands,
four hands, six hands.

And I didn't work my ass off just
so I can hand it off to Julian.

Plus, I don't trust that
motherfucker to speak on our behalf.

A moment of
clarity, guys, please.

He wants to give us a
lot of fucking money.

It's not about the money, Joe.

Oh, tell Vern that. Tell Ricky that.

- How much are we in the hole for?
- Millions of dollars.

- Millions of dollars, right.
- I don't give a fuck.

We don't wanna do business with him.

I'd rather blow up this
whole fucking deal

than ever kiss that motherfucker's ring.

Fuck this cock...

Hello.

Are we gonna fuck or what?

Actually, we're gonna
pass, little brother.

So you can keep your money.
Or should I say Dad's money?

I doubled Father's money.

And do me a favor, will
you stop saying "Father"

like you're some British fucking orphan?

You came for money, I'm
agreeing to give it to you.

Are you so dense that you
can't see when you've won?

Oh, I know when I've
won, when we've won.

- I... I've done it before.
- Yeah, on the math team.

Fucking asshole.

Okay.

Way to waste a great opportunity.

See you at Thanksgiving, bro.

Shove some stuffing up your ass.

Have a drink.

Late night at the office?

- I gotta make some moves.
- At 11:15?

- Baby, come to bed.
- No. No, I'm done with Siefert.

I've had it with him.

I'm better than that guy and this job.

I'm telling Jason to
put me on the market.

You're gonna quit the job
you fought so hard to keep?

You told me to start
thinking on my own, right?

Well, I thought. Now it's time to do.

Doing exactly what I told you to do

isn't exactly thinking on your own.

Yeah, I ain't
gonna let that wreck nothing.

Nope, not me.

I'm done. Done being tested.

I'm taking my services
somewhere they're appreciated

and that don't include fetching
coffee and kale chips.

He made you get him kale chips?

Yeah, I mean, they were in the
break room, but still, you know.

So, that's it, huh, just like that?

Yeah, unless you got something
else you wanna add.

Do you wanna hold hands, baby?
Say another prayer?

Good luck on your job hunt.

I was gonna fuck you tonight, too.

Huh?

- To?
- Siblings.

- To siblings.
- Cheer up!

Siblings.

Cheers!

Ah.

You look like a sex offender right now.

This place used to be so much cooler...

- Oh, gee.
- when it was a dive bar.

These Hamptons pricks,
they ruin everything.

That guy. One last round, all right,
before we go up to the hotel.

- No, no, Bret, this is the last round.
- No, no, no, this one.

Jesus.

- Mmm!
- Ah!

Oh, God.

Fuck, man!

I wish you'd told Julian to
fuck off after he flew us home.

You know, we could've
cleared out the bar cart,

probably would've fallen in love
with that flight attendant,

had kids.

Hey, what's up with the
spooky fucking look?

- Maybe I'm up to something.
- Yeah.

Bret, you gonna put a contract
down on your little brother?

That's not a bad idea, but, no.

Instead... instead, I am going
to sell everything I own,

including my stake in
Anderson Financial,

and I'm going to cash
out on my family trust,

and I'm gonna go all in
on this fucking deal.

- Yeah. Yeah!
- I am.

You're gonna buy the stadium
in Vegas with your own money.

You heard Julian. It's a great deal.

He might be a stupid fucking prick,

but he's a smart stupid fucking prick.

- Where are you gonna get the cash?
- The bank.

I'll put up all my assets as
collateral and I'll borrow the rest.

- Fuck it.
- Let's think about this for a second.

If this deal goes sideways,
then you get fucked completely.

So let's put this idea on ice
and let's just focus on ASM.

- Come on.
- Oh, I am focused on ASM.

I'm focused on selling it.

You're gonna sell the company?

Hey, I need every nickel I can get

if I'm gonna snatch victory
from the jaws of defeat, baby.

No, baby, you can't fucking do that.

You asked me to deliver the
last piece of this puzzle.

Well, here it is, signed,
sealed, and delivered.

But that doesn't mean sell the company.

Fuck it. I got a good idea.

Why don't we buy these
entitled trust-fund fucks

a round just out of spite?

- That's a terrible fucking idea.
- Oh, my God.

- This is a bad idea.
- All right, hey, everybody!

- Bret!
- How about a round of drinks on us,

Anderson Sports Management?

- Yeah!
- And Spencer Strasmore!

Hey!

- I fucking hate New York.
- So do I.