He shoots again, he wins again... L.F. MOVES THE MONEY in front of him.
Bill picks up the stack of moola...L.F. Stands behind her table, stick in her hand, eyes on her opponent.
In the midst of this silence, his beeper goes off. His eyes go to it. It reads; ELLE DRIVER.
He raises his eyes from the beeper to L.F., casually tosses the green on the felt and says;
BILL:
Shoot it all.
L.F.
Pretty lucky tonight, huh?
BILL:
Play a game of luck long enough you're bound to meet some lucky people.
L.F.
You know we've never been properly introduced, I'm L.F. O'Boyle.
BILL:
And I'm not interested.
L.F.
No, you're rude. Why so rude rude boy, I'm only trying to be friendly.
BILL:
I didn't come here to make friends.
I came here to shoot a little crap.
But then your boy over there hits me up for a two hundred dollar privilege to play fee -- L.F.
-- That's a membership fee, good for --
BILL:
-- You and nobody else. You sell at the bar a half can of warm piss, at twenty bucks a shot. How much did the six-pack cost you? 5.60, 5.65?
You're greedy O'Boyle. You're just too Goddamn greedy. You know what I like to do when I meet greedy people? Take every f***in thing they got. Leave em with nothing.
L.F.
So that's your game, you want to teach me a lesson?
BILL:
I wanna burn you down. When I'm through with you, you won't have a pot to piss, or a window to throw it out of. You'll thumb a ride out of L.A. wearing a barrel.