Wall Street

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INT. GORDON GEKKO'S OFFICE (BUD'S POV) - DAY

Furnishings in hypermodern gray and black lacquer, Modern Art ranging from black field paintings by Ad Reinhardt to the smashed dishes of Julian Schnabel. Nautilus equipment, hi-tech gadgets are in evidence, including a splendid Howard Miller World Time Clock, and a world map...

Three of Gekko's people, young MBA's dressed for success, are scattered about the room, on phones, calculators, coming in and out.

GORDON GEKKO aka Gekko the Great as the media calls him, dressed in a custom English suit, paces on the phone with the restlessness of a caged tiger, a 50-foot extension cord attached to his blinking 130 line silver-plated telephone. On his ears is a headset.

GEKKO (on phone) ... what the hell is going on? I just saw 200,000 shares move, are we part of it, we better be, pal, or I'm gonna eat your lunch for you... get on 1. (switches lines) Sorry, love it at forty. It's an insult at fifty. Their analysts don't know preferred stock from livestock... (a beat, mischievous smile) wait for it to head south, then we'll raise the sperm count on the deal... right. Get back to me.... (to Alex, an aide listening an the other line) This is the kid that's called me 59 days in a row. Wants to be a player (to Bud) There oughta be a picture of you in

the dictionary under persistence. (back to phone) Look, Jerry, I'm looking for negative control, no more than 30 to 35%, just enouqh to block anybody else's merger plans and find out from the inside if the books are cooked. If it looks as good as on paper, we're in the kill zone. We lock and load pal...get on 3.

Gekko's dark intent eyes fixing briefly on Bud who stands waiting in the corner. He motions him to sit.

GEKKO (new line) Yeah, Billy, who's your buyer?... No, not interested. (eyes an Quotron, to Ollie, a trader) Ollie, start calling a the institutions, start with Marx at

Janson Mutual, then Reardon. Get me that California retirement money, baby! And we're on our way!

GEKKO (back on line with Billy, listening) ... check the arbs for MacDonald's. Yeah, I'm having a Mac attack. 20,000 shares. For about 30 minutes. Lunch? Are you joking -- lunch is for wimps. Get back to me... (to Alex) 4.

Bud's eyes on the framed "tombstones" from the Wall Street Journal commemorating Gekko's successful deals; they hang like scalps from the walls. Gekko's eyes drifting to Bud, a friendly easy smile for a flick of an instant, he has genuine charm in his manner and though ultrafast verbally,

projects calm and confidence at the center. A man who obviously loves what he does, to some small degree is flashing his stuff for the outsider.

GEKKO (line 4) Look Harold, they're vulnerable, alright, but we don't want 'em to think they're under accumulation. Go slow. Call Geneva and the Bahamas for me, will ya? We feint towards it but we wait...

GEKKO (grimaces) If I ever need surgery, get me the heart of an arb like Yurovich, it's never been used...Happy Holideals Harold...

Hangs up, eyes to Bud. His headset comes off.

BUD (nervous) How do you do Mr. Gekko. I'm Bud Fox.

GEKKO So you say. Nice to meet you; hope you're intelligent. Like these, how'd you get these? (indicating cigars)

BUD (tries a smile, awkward) ...got a connection at the airport.

Gekko notes the answer, wrapping the cuff of a state-of-theart, automatic blood pressure monitor around his arm and starts pumping it up. His aides continue on the phones.

GEKKO So what s on your mind kimosabe?

Why am I listening to you? Got to monitor my blood pressure, so whatever you do, don't upset me.

BUD Oh no, no...

GEKKO (demonstrating it) Within 45 seconds, a microprocessor computes your systolic and diastolic pressure. Has an LCD readout, and it's cost effective -less than one visit to the doctor.

BUD I just want to let you know Mr. Gekko I read all about you at NYU Business, and I think you're an incredible genius and I've always dreamed of...
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