Did they quit because you
called them hacks and lame?
You backslid into being a dick.
Fine.
Yes.
Big time.
You know what?
Those other two were sweet,
but you're more talented.
I need you.
Damn right you do.
'Cause I'm the Yngwie
Malmsteen of coding,
total control of the instrument
Sad.
Look, I need you
to model something for me.
If we give the algo an extra
20 billion to play with
can it reliably generate returns
in excess of eight percent?
If so, how soon? How reliably?
And can any other funds do the same?
Wait, this isn't some T test.
This is something
you'd pitch an investor.
Problem is:
Bridgewater would have 50 PhDs
writing software on this.
Molly Hatchet had three guitarists.
Rising Force had one.
Are you going to tell me
you can't play this solo?
Of course not.
I'm sure we'll go faster
without the dead weight
- Whoops
- You're working alone now,
act however you want.
Take me to the fucking Regency.
Thanks.
Excuse me one second.
- Hey, Axe.
How are you, man?
- Hey.
I don't think we knew you were coming.
Just give us a second,
and we're gonna have your table.
- Nah.
No need, JT.
- Okay.
Enjoy.
Thanks.
- Hey, Axe.
- Hey, Lizzie.
Ah, fuck, Axe.
Can't you skip a year?
I could.
But what fucking fun
would that be?
I'm Martin Carlisle.
Who you are is a witness
to this year's edition
of Fuck Ups Fucking Up.
Today, at Axe Cap, it's comp day.
And so, as always,
I'm reminded of the best day of my life.
The day that this man,
Bill McGann of McGann Commodities,
told me I didn't have
enough Blarney in me.
What he meant was:
I didn't kiss enough ass.
I meant you didn't have a soul.
And so, by means of instruction,
he wasn't gonna bonus me right.
He shorted me by 50,000.
Hey, I can leave you two to
Stay.
I'm leaving.
So, here I am, as I am every year,
to thank you.
And to buy you breakfast.
Just think.
If I'd stayed,
you maybe could have owned this hotel.
Least I can do is get your check.
Right before I engage
in the very same rumble
that left you knifed and
bleeding in the schoolyard.
You're about the same
age I was back then.
You've had a good run, kid.
But you can't stay clear of
the switchblades forever.
You're not a Greaser anymore, Axe,
you're a Soc now
Do you want to lean down or bulk up?
Because either way, suck my dick.
Is this how one runs a service business?
Whatever I'm doing,
it seems to be working.
Because I invested in one.
And now I got five.
Ah.
Some guys just stumble into money.
Like Leonard Cohen
into the Chelsea Hotel.
Mm.
You're looking good, sweetheart.
Thanks.
Do you have any idea what it takes
to make the pivot I did?
This is my lifeblood now.
I built it to where there are guys
who would help me take it public
if I wasn't a fucking felon.
In your estimation, that's my fault?
You went after Axe.
On the way you went
after Dollar Bill Stearn.
You didn't get any of them
except for me.
Because I surrendered.
Thank you.
That was convenient.
And it shows a remarkable sense
of personal responsibility.
Oh, I'd be glad to speak of that
to judges and clerks
and probation officers to get
your record sanded clean.
And in return you want
I do want.
Help me investigate a money trail.
Don't you have all your boys
with windbreakers to do that for you?
This is of a more personal nature.
Very few are as expert as you
at disguising and veiling
and hiding money.
I'm a man of many talents.
And it's in your field,
fitness.
Let me call you back.
Shit.
This is chilling.
Does he always do this at comp?
To a degree.
This is special.
What's the mood down there?
They've got that lean and hungry look.
Like to leave 'em that way.
Let the hunger set in.
Starvation, in small doses,
triggers an increase in energy,
clarity, aggression
Right up until it kills you.
You gotta feed 'em something.
Why? I make the decisions,
do all the heavy-lifting,
actually earn the money.
Mortimer Duke said it best:
No getting around the old minimum wage.
Actually, that was said
to Mortimer Duke,
but that's a helluva pull.
The thing is: most years,
I'm paying with other people's money.
Now it's my own money.
That reminds me of a prayer
I said every night as a kid:
"And now I lay me down to sleep,
"I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
"and if I die before I wake,
"I pray that all my
toys should break.
"
So my fucking brother and
sister can't play with 'em.
Why don't you just delay comp decisions
until after the raise?
Outside money will be back on board,
you'll feel better
about the whole thing.
Three things in life you can't postpone
without dire consequences:
calling a doctor when gutshot,
finding a toilet when
traveling in India,
and paying your people.
The last two being
more or less the same.
Listen.
Don't think
the raise isn't the thing;
it's the only thing.
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