Jungle 2 Jungle1997

[Michael is in the open outcry floor of the Stock exchange]

Trader 1:
Ten and a half!

Trader 2:
Nine fifty!

Trader 3:
Twenty-five! I'll take it!

Michael:
How's July?

Trader 4:
July how? July's at 95 and a quarter. Ninety-four and a half bid.

Michael:
Hey, bonehead, moron!

Trader 4:
Moron? Moron this. At 95. At 95.

Michael:
Keep your pencil to yourself! 94 and 3 quarter bid for 300.

Trader 4:
Sold, 300!

Michael:
Buy 300, yes!

Richard:
300, you idiot?! Get out of my way. 300 lots of coffee futures? You call that a hunch?

Michael:
No, Richard. I call that an opportunity.

Richard:
300 lots in this market is not an opportunity. It's a death wish.

Michael:
Oh, ye of little faith.

Richard:
Oh, no, no. Me of big mortgage.

Michael:
Hi, Maddy. What've you got?

Maddy:
Flight 109 leaving J.F.K., 1:00 p.m., arriving Caracas at 6:22 p.m.

Michael:
All right, all right.

Maddy:
Aw, come on. You're not still leaving, after what you did in there?

Michael:
I'm getting married to Charlotte. I need the divorce from Patricia.

Maddy:
Toiletries, shirts, socks..

Richard:
I don't believe this. You're gonna leave me with 5,100 tons of coffee?

Michael:
Richard, I put up with you because you're the best analyst on the Street.

Richard:
You give me that same patronizing little speech... every time you play one of your stupid hunches.

Michael:
Yeah? And what happens?

Richard:
I'm hospitalized, and the blood pressure medication is adjusted.

Maddy:
Uplink. You'll overnight in Caracas, then fly to Canaima the next morning.

Michael:
Thanks. [Gets in taxi]

Richard:
See ya in two days. Unbelievable.