Casino (film)

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Casino is an Academy Award-nominated 1995 crime drama film. Sam "Ace" Rothstein is called by the mob to oversee the day-to-day operations at the Tangiers Casino in Las Vegas. Nicky Santoro, an enforcer, is sent by the mob to make sure their money is skimmed off the top, and that the casino and the other mobsters are kept in line. Casino follows Sam "Ace" Rothstein (De Niro), a Jewish American gambling expert handicapper who is asked by the Chicago Outfit to oversee the day-to-day casino and hotel operations at the Tangiers Casino in Las Vegas. There, Ace interacts with his old friend from Chicago, Nicholas "Nicky" Santoro (Pesci), a "made man" who gives Ace street and casino protection and launders money. In Las Vegas, Ace meets a attractive and well dressed woman named Ginger McKenna, who is street wise, and a chip hustler. Ace's relationship with Ginger McKenna proceeds quickly from dating, to having a child with her. Soon Ace and Ginger get married. In some ways, Ace's relationship with Ginger has (Stone) issues early on. Ginger has continued her friendship with Lester Diamond (Woods), who tries to get Ginger to give him $25,000 of Ace's money. When Ace learns of this, he has Diamond beaten up, and tells Diamond to leave Ginger alone.

Directed by Martin Scorsese. Written by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorsese.
No One Stays At The Top Forever (taglines)

Sam "Ace" Rothstein[edit]

  • When you love someone, you've gotta trust them. There's no other way. You've got to give them the key to everything that's yours. Otherwise, what's the point? And for a while, I believed that's the kind of love I had.
  • Before I ever ran a casino or got myself blown up, Ace Rothstein was one hell of a handicapper - I can tell you that. I was so good that whenever I bet, I could change the odds for every bookmaker in the country. I'm serious; I had it down so cold that I was given paradise on earth. I was given one of the biggest casinos in Las Vegas to run - the Tangiers - by the only kind of guys that can actually get you that kind of money: $62,700,000.
  • [About Nicky] No matter how big a guy might be, Nicky would take him on. You beat Nicky with fists, he comes back with a bat. You beat him with a knife, he comes back with a gun. And you beat him with a gun, you better kill him, because he’ll keep comin’ back and back until one of you is dead.
  • In the casino, the cardinal rule is to keep them playing and keep them coming back. The longer they play, the more they lose. In the end, we get it all.
  • We all have a past! You have a past, I have a past, and my past is no worse than yours, but you guys think you have the right to pass judgment on me!
  • Meeting in the middle of the desert always made me nervous. It's a scary place. I knew about the holes in the desert, of course, and everywhere I looked, there could have been a hole.
  • [to Ginger, about her and Lester planning to run away with Amy] Yeah, but I've been told that before, "We're workin' it out." You think that you're home... after what you just put me through with Amy, is a favor to me? So, counting the watch, let's say another four thousand for expenses over the weekend... of which you must have had a good time. I know he did. That's for sure. I know that... fuckin' piece of shit had a good fuckin' time. On my money. You might as well have fucked him, which you probably did anyway. (Ginger glares at him) You're lookin' at me a certain way. You - you're teary-eyed, huh? You're upset. You're a good actress, you know that? Good fuckin' actress. You can fuckin' get that pity out of people. I'm not a john, you understand? You always thought I was, but I'm not. And I'm not a sucker. That fuckin' pimp cocksucker. He's lucky I didn't kill him last time. Lucky he's fuckin' livin'. And if you would've stayed with Amy... and you would've ran away... you would've been fuckin' dead. Both of you. Dead. Dead.
  • After all the threats and all the bullshit, it turned out Ginger didn't tell 'em anything. But by then, the Feds didn't need her, anyway. They had all the pieces they needed. And everybody began to tumble, one after the other... just like dominoes. Between Piscano complaining on a wire. Between Nicky, Ginger, me and my license... paradise... we managed to really fuck it all up.
  • [Ginger is in a fleabag motel grasping for life] After Ginger took off, she wasn't much help to anybody. She found some pimps, lowlifes, druggies and bikers in L.A.. And in a few months, they went through all the money and all the jewels. (Ginger expires, falling to the floor) After they found her body, I hired a private doctor to do another autopsy. He said they gave her a hot dose. In the end, all she had left was $3,600 in mint-condition coins.
  • No matter what the feds or the papers might've said about my car-bombing, it was amateur night - and you could tell. Whoever it was, they put the dynamite under the passenger side. But what they didn't know - what nobody outside the factory knew - was that that model car was made with a metal plate under the driver's seat. It's the only thing that saved my life. The bombing was never authorized, but I suspect I know who lit the fuse - and so did the powers that be.
  • The word was out. The bosses had enough of Nicky. They had enough. How much were they gonna take? So they made an example of him and his brother; they buried them while they were still breathing. They had other ideas for me.
  • The town will never be the same. After the Tangiers, the big corporations took it all over. Today, it looks like Disneyland. And while the kids play cardboard pirates, Mommy and Daddy drop the house payments and Junior's college money on the poker slots. In the old days, dealers knew your name, what you drank, what you played. Today, it's like checkin' into an airport. And if you order room service, you're lucky if you get it by Thursday. Today, it's all gone. You get a whale show up with four million in a suitcase, and some twenty-five-year-old hotel school kid is gonna want his social security number. (Tangiers and the other classic casinos are shown being detonated and demolished, then being replaced with newer, gaudier attractions such as the Luxor pyramid) After the Teamsters got knocked out of the box, the corporations tore down practically every one of the old casinos. And where did the money come from to rebuild the pyramids? Junk bonds. But in the end, I wound up right back where I started. I could still pick winners, and I could still make money for all kinds of people back home. And why mess up a good thing? And that's that.

Nicky Santoro[edit]

  • [About the bosses] These old greaseballs may not look it, but believe me, these are the men who secretly control Las Vegas - because they managed the Teamsters Union. The Teamsters Union was who you had to go to in order to borrow money to build a casino. And no one got approved for a loan from the Teamster's pension fund unless these guys in the room knew they were going to get their little suitcases.
  • They had so much fuckin' money in there, you could build a house outta stacks of $100 bills. And the best part was, that upstairs, the board of directors didn't know what the fuck was goin' on. I mean, to them, everything looked on the up-and-up, right? Wrong! The guys inside the counting room, were all slipped in there to skim the joint dry. They'd do short counts, they'd lose fill slips, they'd even take cash right outta the drop boxes. And it was up to this guy, right here, standin' in front of about 2 million dollars, to skim the cash off the top, wit'out anybody gettin' wise, the IRS, or anybody. Now, notice how, in the count room, nobody ever seems to see anything. Somebody's always lookin' the other way. Now look at these guys, they look busy, right? They're countin' money. Who'd want to bother them? I mean, God forbid they should make a mistake and forget to steal. Meanwhile, you're in, and you're out. Past the jag-off guard, who gets an extra C note a week, just to watch the door. I mean, it's routine. Business as usual. In. Out. Hello. Goodbye. And that's all there is to it. Just another fat fuck, walkin' out of the casino with a suitcase. Now that suitcase was goin' straight to one place: right to Kansas City, which was as close to Las Vegas as the Midwest bosses could go, without gettin' themselves arrested. That suitcase was all the bosses ever wanted, and they wanted it every month.
  • [about Anthony Dogs' interrogation] To be truthful with you, I had to admire this fucking guy. He was one of the toughest Irishmen I ever met. This son-of-a-bitch was tough. For two days and two fucking nights, we beat the shit out of this guy. I mean, we even stuck ice picks in his balls. But he never talked. In the end, I had to put his fucking head in a vise.
  • Listen to me, Anthony. I got your head in a fucking vise. I'll squash your fuckin' head like a grapefruit if you don't give me a name. Don't make me have to do this, please. Don't make me be a bad guy; come on.
  • "Charlie M"? "Charlie M"?! You make me pop your fucking eye out of your head to protect that piece of shit?! "Charlie M"?! You dumb motherfucker!
  • I think that you've gotten the wrong impression about me. I think, in all fairness, I should explain to you exactly what it is that I do. For instance, tomorrow morning, I'll get up nice and early, take a walk down over to the bank, walk in and see and uh, if you don't have my money for me, I'll crack your fucking head wide open in front of everybody in the bank. And just about the time that I'm comin' out of jail, hopefully, you'll be comin' out of your coma. And guess what? I'll split your fucking head open again. 'Cause I'm fuckin' stupid. I don't give a fuck about jail. That's my business. That's what I do. And we know what you do, don't we, Charlie? You fuck people out of money and get away with it! (as Charlie the Banker tries to defend himself) Hey, you fat Irish prick. You put my fucking money to sleep. You go get my money or I'll put your fucking brain to sleep!
  • You know I'm tryin' to put somethin' really big together out here. You know what I'm talkin' about, huh? You know! If you're actin' like this now, how can I depend on you?
  • You know, I don't wanna bring this up, but you've been treating a lot of people with a lot of disrespect, even your own wife.
  • [Watching the FBI plane overhead while golfing] What the fuck is this? Where's this fuckin' guy gonna land, in the fairway? They're fucking agents, Frankie, look at this! $100 for whoever hits the plane.
  • [Chewing out Sam in the Nevada desert] You said I'm bringin' heat on you?! I gotta listen to people because of YOUR fuckin' shit?! You're orderin' me out?! You better get your own fuckin' army, pal!
  • [Chewing out Sam in the Nevada desert] Get this through your head, you Jew motherfucker, you! You only exist out here because of ME! That's the ONLY reason! Without me, you, personally - every fuckin' wiseguy skell around will take a piece of your fuckin' Jew ass! THEN where you gonna go?! You're fuckin' warned! Don't ever go over my fuckin' head again! You motherfucker, you!
  • I used to send Marino back home with a piece of what I made. Not a big piece, but what did they know? They were 1,500 miles away - and I don't know anyone who can see that far.
  • [After Andy Stone is murdered by two men as he is walking to his car] As much as they liked him, he wasn't one of us; he wasn't Italian. As far as they knew, he could've talked. Otherwise, Stoney might still be alive. The first one to skip was John Nance. He found a nice warm secluded place in Costa Rica. He thought nobody would find him there. But then his kid got nabbed by the Feds for drugs. And so, naturally, the bosses were afraid he'd come out of hiding just to save his kid and give 'em all up. So... [The same two men come behind a bleeding John Nance and shoot him in the head] But anyway, they… you know, they all had to follow. Everybody went down. Before you knew it, anybody who knew anything wound up gettin' whacked.
  • It took months for everything to calm down. But finally, my guys got out on bail and the bosses wanted me to send my brother Dominick out to Vegas. Always the dollars. Always the fuckin' dollars. I mean it was still way too hot for me to even go near Vegas. So I set up a meeting with the guys way out in the sticks. I didn't want my brother to get fucked around. I mean what's right is right; they don't give a fuck about–URGGHH!! [as Frankie hits him from behind with a baseball bat]

Paige Novodor[edit]

  • Good evening, everyone. I'm Paige Novodor. What should've been a routine licensing hearing turned into bedlam yesterday when the flamboyant Tangiers Casino executive, Sam "Ace" Rothstein, accused the state's top gaming officials of corruption and hypocrisy. In a wild and unprecedented outburst that followed his gaming license denial, Rothstein followed several stunned commissioners into the hallway, where he continued his harangue until his own lawyers and friends urged him to leave. Long suspected of running the Tangiers without a gaming license, yesterday's hearing was to determine whether someone with Rothstein's checkered personal history was qualified to officially hold a top gaming post.


Sam "Ace" Rothstein: [as narrator] Before I ever ran a casino or got myself blown up, Ace Rothstein was a helluva handicapper, I can tell you that. I was so good that when I bet, I can change the odds for every bookmaker in the country. I'm serious. I had it down so cold that I was given paradise on earth. I was given one of the biggest casinos in Las Vegas to run: the Tangiers, by the only kind of guys that can get you that kind of money. Sixty-two million seven hundred thousand dollars. I don't know all the details.
Nicky Santoro: [as narrator] Matter of fact, nobody knew all the details. But it should have been perfect. I mean he had me, Nicky Santoro, his best friend, watching his ass. And he had Ginger, the woman he loved, on his arm. But in the end, we fucked it all up. It should have been so sweet, too. But it turned out to be the last time that street guys like us were ever given anything that fuckin' valuable again.

Nicky Santoro: [as narrator] Keeping Remo happy with money was the strongest insurance policy.
[Sam hands Remo his gambling winnings]
Remo Gaggi: Son-of-a-bitch. How the hell did you get Oklahoma-Michigan? Nobody ever had Oklahoma-Mi... How the hell'd you do it?
Sam Rothstein: Well, that's why they get paid so well.
Remo Gaggi: You see? (chuckles) Never tells me nothin'! Ace, what do we got on for next week?
Sam Rothstein: Well, it's a little too early. I'd say Thursday would be good. I'll know by then. Is that all right?
Remo Gaggi: Thanks a lot, Ace.
Sam departs but Remo motions Nicky to be spoken to in private
Remo Gaggi: Hey, Nick. Vien acca. T'aggia parla. Nicky... See that guy? Keep a good eye on him. He's makin' a lot of money for us. And he's gonna continue makin' a lot of money for us, so keep a good eye on him. Not like your fuckin' friends out there, that... without brains. Okay?
Nicky Santoro: All right.
Remo Gammi: Uh-huh. Mi raccomando.
Nicky Santoro: [reaching down to touch Gaggi's money, joking with him] Want me to take this for you?
Nicky Santoro: [as narrator] Now, on top of everything else, I gotta make sure nobody fucks around with the Golden Jew.

Sam Rothstein {as narrator}: In Vegas, I had to keep a few juiced-in local cowboys working. They were close to the, you know, good old boys.
Sam Rothstein: Pay him six hundred a week, tell him to walk around and look smart.
Sam Rothstein {as narrator}: I mean, without us, these guys, they'd still be shovelin' mule shit.
Sam Rothstein: What is this mess? Ward, you have to keep a cleaner station. If you need Mr. Clean, just page him, all right?
Don Ward: It won't happen again, Sam.
Sam Rothstein: "Mr. Rothstein."
Don Ward: Mr. Rothstein. It won't happen again, Mr. Rothstein!
Sam and Billy depart slot machine area
Sam Rothstein: Is this guy just another dumb fuckin' white man, or what? What's his story?
Billy Sherbert: You need this guy.
Sam Rothstein: I can't get rid of him?
Billy Sherbert: He's juiced in. He's the County Commissioner's cousin.
Sam Rothstein: I wouldn't give the bum a mop job.

[A local cowboy with connections to the mob has been gambling in Sam's casino, ignoring the casino's rule against guests putting their feet up on the table.]
Sam Rothstein: I don't give a shit who he's connected to. Tell him to take his fucking feet off the table. What does he think this is, a goddamn sawdust joint?
Billy Sherbert: Sir, would you mind taking your feet off the table and put your shoes on, please?
Cowboy: (sighs) Yeah, I would mind. I'm having a bad night.
[Billy returns to Sam, who is watching from across the room.]
Billy Sherbert: Fucking asshole won't budge.
Sam Rothstein: Call security. [Billy leaves to call casino security; Sam approaches the cowboy himself.] How are you?
Cowboy: Good. How are you?
Sam Rothstein: Good. You want to do me a favor? You want to take your feet off the table and put your shoes back on?
Cowboy: Fuck you. [Sam just looks stunned].
Sam Rothstein: [Pauses, then turns to the arriving security guards] I want you to exit this guy off the premises and I want you to exit him off his feet and use his head to open the fuckin door.
Security Guard: Sir, you're going to have to leave. You mind accompanying us outside?
Cowboy: Bullshit, I ain't going anywhere with you.
Security Guard: Bullshit, you're outta here, cowboy! [The senior guard pulls the cowboy's sock-feet off the table]
[Four security guards grab the cowboy and carry him outside, ramming his head into the door to open it as Sam instructed.]
Cowboy: Fuck you! Fuck you!
Security Guard: Yeah?
Cowboy: Do you know who you're fucking with?! Huh?!! Do you?!
Security Guard: Now, move along.
Cowboy: [to Sam Rothstein] You fuckin' faggot! Do you know who you're fucking with?! [to security guards] Leave me alone!
Security Guard: Here we go.
Cowboy: You've gotta be kidding me!
Sam Rothstein {as narrator}: Sure enough, an hour later, I get a call.
Nicky Santoro: Ace, what happened over there? I mean, did you know that guy you threw out was with me?
Sam Rothstein: No, I didn't know that. But you know what he did?
Nicky Santoro: No.
Sam Rothstein: He insulted Billy. And then I walked over to him politely, and he tells me to go fuck myself.
Nicky Santoro: What?!
Sam Rothstein: Then he called me a faggot. So what do you think I do? I threw that cocksucker out.
Nicky Santoro: What? Ho-- [puts down phone and addresses cowboy] Hey, come here. You called my friend a faggot? You tell him to go fuck himself?
Cowboy: Nicky, I did--
Nicky Santoro: Is that what you did?
Cowboy: I did-- I didn't--
Nicky Santoro: Tell him to go fuck himself? [hits cowboy on the head with the phone] You fucking hick! Fuckin', you big fuckin' hick, you. Come here. Come here. Get him up. Come here.
Frank Marino: Get up, Get up.
Nicky Santoro: Come here. Come here. You go over there right now and you apologize. You better hope he lets you back in. If you ever get out of line over there again, I'll smash your fuckin' head so hard, you won't be able to get that cowboy hat on. You hear me? Fucking hick. [resumes phone conversation] Sammy, listen. This guy obviously doesn't know who he was talking to. You understand? He doesn't know that... we're dear friends. I mean, he's already very sorry. But... if you could do me a favor and let him back in, I swear to you he'll never get out of line again. I promise you that.
Sam Rothstein: If he does it again, he's out for good. I don't care what it is, Nick, I'm gonna ha-- I'll never let him in the place again.
Nicky Santoro: I'm sorry about this. Really. All right, Ace?
Sam Rothstein: Okay.
Nicky Santoro: Thanks, pal. [hangs up the phone and turns to cowboy] You took your boots off? You put your feet on the table... You shit-kicking, stinky, horse-manure-smelling motherfucker you! You fuck me up over there, I'll stick you in a hole in the fuckin' desert! You understand? [slaps cowboy in the face] Go over there and apologize. Go! Get the fuck out of--!
Cowboy: Nicky, I'm sorry!

Sam Rothstein {as narrator}: Well, it wasn't long before what I was afraid was going to happen, happened. Nicky managed to get himself banned from every casino in Las Vegas. And from that moment on I couldn't be seen with him in Vegas or anywhere near it.
Nicky Santoro: What the fuck is that supposed to mean? [reads letter] " ...detrimental to gaming. And he will be ejected from any casino in Las Vegas... and the casinos can be fined as much as $100,000 every time he shows up." [He waves the document] Do you believe this shit?
Sam Rothstein: (Smoking a cigarette) Yeah, I believe it. You got banned.
Nicky Santoro: [reads letter again] "Because of unsavory reputation..." [He angrily wads the document and tosses it across the table] Motherfucker. Unsavory fuckin'... Is there any way around this?
Sam Rothstein: No, there's no way.
Nicky Santoro: Let's say, for instance, I want to go in a restaurant that happens to be inside a casino, to get one of those sandwiches I like?
Sam Rothstein: Forget it. You cannot so much as set foot in the parking lot. That is how serious this is.
Nicky Santoro: In other words, I'm fucked.
Sam Rothstein: In so many words, yes.
Sam Rothstein {as narrator}: It just didn't sink into his head about the Black Book and what it meant. Not being able to go into a casino is just one thing, but being in this book etched your name into the brains of every cop and FBI agent in the state. I mean, you're listed in there with Al Capone. But Nicky didn't care.
Nicky Santoro: I gotta do somethin'. I gotta do somethin'. They ain't gettin' rid of me. They're not gettin' rid of me. I'm staying here. Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em.

Commissioner Webb: Thanks for seeing a humble public servant, Mr. Rothstein. You run a nice business here. House is doing very well for itself. Uh, I come here personally to kind of smooth over a fracas about a certain matter. See, uh, maybe you didn't know it, but, uh, Don Ward is a very well-liked man in this town. He's got lots of friends here. Now, his family and their money go back many, many years. Now, friends vote... family and money votes. That's important to me... and you. And if you'll think about our little problem along them lines... and you forgive me for sayin' it, maybe he did not deserve to be fired.
Sam Rothstein: I'm sorry, but he knew about our gettin' hit on three big machines in a row and he did nothing about it. That means either he was in on it or, forgive me for saying this, he was too dumb to see what was going on. Either way, I cannot have a man like that workin' here.
Commissioner Webb: Before we point the dirty end of the stick at 'ol Don, uh, we better be sure we can prove them charges.
Sam Rothstein: Believe me, if I could prove it, he would be under arrest.
Commissioner Webb: Are, uh - [Clears throat] - are we certain that you want the Gamin' Control Board eyeballin' your record and your gangster pals like Nicky Santoro?
Sam Rothstein: I think you're way out of line talkin' to me like that. What you're sayin' is libelous, and you're in no position to challenge my expertise. I went way out of my way to be very helpful and courteous to that kid. He's weak, he's incompetent. He jeopardizes the whole place. There's not much more I can do for him.
Commissioner Webb: [Chuckles] You have got me there. Old Don is about as useless as tits on a boar! But, he is my brother-in-law, and I would look on it as a personal favor if you'd think some more on hirin' him back.
Sam Rothstein: I can't do that. And I appreciate the fact that he's your brother-in-law, and I do want to help you and I like to do favors, and I know who you are, but I cannot do that.
Commissioner Webb: Well, could there be any position... further down the trough?
Sam Rothstein: I'm sorry, I can't do anything. He's too incompetent. And the bottom line is, he cannot be trusted. (Phone rings, Ace responds and hangs up a few seconds later) Um... you know, that's it. I'm sorry.
Commissioner Webb: Mr Rothstein. You people never will understand the way it works out here. You're all just our guests. But you act like you're at home. Let me tell you somethin', partner... you ain't home. But that's where we're gonna send you if it harelips the Governor. Thank you for your time.

Nicky Santoro {as narrator}: No matter what the problems were outside the count room, it was all worth it. The cash kept rollin' in. And the suitcases kept comin' and goin'. And let me tell ya, the fuckin' bottom line here is... cash. The only problem was that, after a while, the bosses noticed that the suitcases were gettin' a little light. [Count room employee pockets a wad of cash].
[Kansas City. Bosses are enraged at news]
Vincent Borelli: Aspetta, Wait a minute. You mean to tell me that the money we're robbing is bein' robbed? That somebody's robbing from us? We go through all this fuckin' trouble, and somebody's robbin' us?
Remo Gaggi: Eh?
John Nance: Like I said, you know, i-it's part of the business. I-it's considered leakage.
Vincent Borelli: Leakage, my balls. I want the guy who's robbin' us.
Nicky Santoro {as narrator}: Even John Nance, that's the guy who ran the skim, he knew there wasn't much you could do about it. You gotta know that a guy who helps you steal, even if you take care of him real well, I mean, he's gonna steal a little bit extra for himself. Makes sense, don't it? Right? Well, you go try and make these hard-headed old greaseballs understand that.
Vincent Borelli: What's the point of skimming if we're being skimmed? Defeats the whole purpose of what we're doin' out there.
Remo Gaggi: Eh?
John Nance: You know, they take this money because they're my guys. So you gotta give 'em some leeway.
Nicky Santoro {as narrator}: But the bosses never believed in leeway, so listen to what they do: they put Artie Piscano, the underboss of KC, in charge of making sure nobody skimmed the skim.
Vincent Borelli: What the hell have you been doin' out there?
Artie Piscano: I was out there with my cumare (mistress)
Vincent Borelli: Your cumma? What were you doing with your cumare?
Artie Piscano: What else? I gave her a schaff!
Nicky Santoro { as narrator}: The only trouble was, Piscano was a disaster. This guy could fuck up a cup of coffee.
Vincent Borelli: Artie, what the hell have you been doing out there, Artie?
Artie Piscano: I'm out there more than I'm here.
Nicky Santoro {as narrator}: And little did anybody know where this would all lead. If they did, they would have been better off making fucking novenas (Catholic prayers).
Vincent Borelli: You gotta go back there and talk to that guy.
Artie Piscano: Come on, go back there? I never got paid my expenses for the last trip.
Vincent Borelli: What expenses?
Artie Piscano: Well, I'm going all over, laying money out of my own pocket, and I never get anything back. What the hell's goin' on?
Vincent Borelli: You gotta go back out there.
Artie Piscano: Well, then, from now on, I'm gonna start keeping records.
[Vincent waves a cautionary hand]
Vincent Borelli: Artie, no records, Artie. What are you going to do with records? Pay taxes?
Artie Piscano: Well, I keep layin' out my own fuckin' dough for these trips and nothin' ever comes back. I mean, what the hell's goin' on? What are we doin' over here?
Vincent Borelli: You're goin' out to Las Vegas, you're havin' a good time at my expense. What the fuck? I mean, after all, you're the one having a good time, not me.
Sam Rothstein {as narrator}: No matter how many novenas you could make, nothing was gonna stop what came up next at the casino.
Phil Green: I can't believe you're doing this.
Anna Scott: We made a deal. You came to me, remember?
Sam Rothstein {as narrator}: It turned out Phil Green, Mr. Integrity, had a partner nobody knew about, and when she showed up and started demanding some money from the Tangiers...
Anna Scott: Why are you doing this to me?!
Phil Green: Because you're wrong.
Anna Scott: I'm not wrong.
Phil Green: Yes, you are.
Anna Scott: No, I am not wrong!
Sam Rothstein {as narrator}: Green tried to stonewall her.
Anna Scott: I will see to it that you do not get away with this!
Sam Rothstein {as narrator}: So she sued him in court.

Anna Scott has just a won a lawsuit against Phil Green, president of the Tangiers casino.
Anna Scott: I believe he was absolutely fair and I'm delighted with his decision.
John Nance: [talks to his boss, Remo Gaggi, on the phone about the situation] We got a problem. It didn't go too well. Green has to open the books; he has to show how he got the financing. And hey, that's...that's not good.
Nicky Santoro {as narrator}: She was doing pretty good with her lawsuit. But before she could start counting her money, the boys back home decided to settle the case out of court instead. So they sent me.
Nicky Santoro invades the kitchen in Anna Scott's home and shoots her in the head three times. She dies, blood runs from her mouth as he levels her head so it doesn't run on him.

Sam has made an enemy in County Commissioner Pat Webb for firing his brother-in-law from the Tangiers. An inopportune moment occurs when Sam is made to admit he is responsible for the day-to-day operations of the Tangiers, which is publicized by the media. Webb is holding up a newspaper headline.
Commissioner Webb: Hm. Have you read this? Hm? It's 'bout Mr Rothstein. It says: "The Midwest bookmaker with mob ties says that he is the real boss of the new hundred-million-dollar Tangiers Casino empire." You believe that?
Ronny Duprey, Gaming Agent #1: Did he really say that?
Commissioner Webb: Why, of course, he really said that. It's right here. Has that man even filed for his license yet?
Gaming Agent #2: I don't know. We'll have to check the files.
Commissioner Webb: Well, without gettin' your shorts in a knot, would you do that? And kinda check closely, 'cause we may have to kick a kike's ass out of town. Thank you.

Remo Gaggi: What the hell's he gonna do now?
Andy Stone {sighing}: I don't know.
Remo Gammi: What's he doin'? He knows all those guys he yelled at are friends of ours. What's the matter with him, making all this mess?
Andy Stone: Maybe he could run things with another job title. Wouldn't be the best, but, uh, what are we gonna do?
Remo Gaggi: However he runs things, it's gotta be quiet. Let him hide upstairs in the office. Say he's the janitor, I don't give a shit. But, please, whatever job he takes, make sure it's something quiet.
Cut to a TV show
Woman announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, the Tangiers Hotel proudly presents the all-new Sam Rothstein show, Aces High.

Ace: First of all, what they did was totally unconstitutional. We're already on the list to be heard before the Supreme Court of the United States later this year.
Andy Stone: These guys back home don't give a fuck about the Supreme Court and any of this bullshit! They want things to quiet down. They want you to walk away from -
Ace: Walk away? Andy, you can't be serious. How can I walk away? Don't you see what's goin' on here? Don't you see what's at stake?
Andy Stone: The old man said, 'Maybe your friend should give in.' And when the old man says 'maybe', that's like a papal bull. Not only should you quit, you should run!
Ace: Know what my problem is? Every time they mention my name in the papers, these cocksuckers, they mention Nicky too. How the fuck does that help? I mean, the heat he brought down is murder! We had a police department who was cooperative. He's pissed them off so much now that nobody can make a move anymore. I mean, what do you do about that?
Andy Stone: What do you propose?
Ace: I don't know, he doesn't listen to me. Maybe he should... get lost for a while. Take a vacation. Would that be so bad?
Andy Stone: They ain't sending Nicky nowhere.
Ace: All right, look, if he took a break, it would just give everybody some time to maneuver. That's all I'm saying. It's all that I'm saying.
Andy Stone: I would forget about the maneuver. I would just get out.
Ace: I can't do that.

Remo Gaggi: Frankie, the little guy, he wouldn't be fuckin' the Jew's wife, would he? Because if he is, then it's a problem.
Scene freeze-frames
Frank Marino {as narrator}: What could I say? I knew that if I gave the wrong answer, Nicky, Ginger, Ace, all of them could've wound up getting killed. Because there's one thing about these old-timers: they don't like anyone fucking the other guys' wives. It's bad for business. So I lied. Even though I knew that by lying to Gaggi, I could wind up getting killed, too.
Scene resumes
Frank Marino: No. No, I didn't see anything like that.
Remo Gaggi: Are you sure?
Frank Marino: I'm positive. Remo, things are very fucked up down there.
Remo Gaggi: I know; that's why I'm asking. You see, my main concern is Nicky.

Ace Rothstein {as narrator}: But one thing I could just never understand was how she could have everything under control but her old pimp Lester Diamond.
[Ginger comes in, taps Lester on the leg with $25,000--offering him the money]
Lester Diamond: Look, Gin, you know I got other people in this. I got partners. But I want you to understand that I am lookin' out for you in this thing. Okay? You're going to get yours back... and you're gonna get it back first. Okay?
Ginger: All right.
Lester Diamond: Okay?
Ginger: Yeah.
Lester Diamond: Where are you goin'? Where are you? You're in that place. Where are you?
Ginger: I'm here.
Lester Diamond: No, you're not. Where are you? Where are you?
Ginger: I'm always here for you.
Lester Diamond: You are.
Ginger: I am.
[He hastily kisses GINGER and slips out the door.]
Ace Rothstein {as narrator}: The Ginger I knew wouldn't even look at this creep. He was a moocher, a card cheat, a country-club golf hustler. A scumbag... chasing dentists for a few bucks.

Paige Novodor {as newscaster}: Good evening, everyone. I'm Paige Novodor. What should've been a routine licensing hearing turned into bedlam yesterday when the flamboyant Tangiers Casino executive, Sam "Ace" Rothstein, accused the state's top gaming officials of corruption and hypocrisy.
Ace Rothstein: What are you running for, Bob? What are you running for? Don't you remember? You promised me a fair hearing when you were getting comped at my hotel, and you were asking me for copies of your bills so you could put 'em on your expense account!
Paige Novodor {as newscaster}: In a wild and unprecedented outburst that followed his gaming license denial, Rothstein followed several stunned commissioners into the hallway, where he continued his harangue until his own lawyers and friends urged him to leave.
Ace Rothstein: Politics! Politicians! We all have a past. You have a past, I have a past, and my past is no worse than yours, but you guys think you have the right to pass judgement on me!
Paige Novodor {as newscaster}: Long suspected of running the Tangiers without a gaming license, yesterday's hearing was to determine whether someone with Rothstein's checkered past history was qualified to officially hold a top gaming post.
Ace Rothstein: Lousy hypocrites!

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