The nephew is a softie by even office cubical worker standards, and wants to prove to his uncle he can be a ball breaker. The luck test, as they call it, is “I’m going to blindfold myself and fire a pistol indiscriminately, if you’re lucky enough not to die, you’re in.” Amazingly Jack is the only one not killed, and he’s inducted to the gang. After proving his smarts, Jack is taken into a secluded forest hours from civilization along with a few other hopefuls for the luck test. Taking a situating that will get you killed and flipping it so you get revenge AND your foot in the door with the most powerful crime syndicate in town is damn good. Instead of killing the guy, he sells the insignificant boss out to him. Boss wants him to do it- by killing the most powerful mobster in town.ĭespite the blunder, Jack is one smart man. Especially when he has a gun drawn on you and you’re hanging from a fucking I beam! He dies soon, leaving Jack the inheritor of repaying the debt. Look, there aren’t many rules in life I think apply constantly, but insulting a guy who’s probably killed more people then you’ve ever shook hands with is one I always go by. More specifically, he calls him a fag for smoking a cigar. So guess who comes knocking on their door wondering “WTF are you thinking stealing from me”? Jack and his pal are hung up and interrogated, and this is when the buddy decides to criticize the boss. See, the drug guy didn’t actually own what he gambled with, he was just moving it for his boss- his very easily angered boss. The bad news, they just fucked with the mob. The good news is they pocket the cash, sell the drugs, and end up with some seriously fat pockets. When his pockets run dry, he decides to keep gambling with an impressive amount of drugs, and by impressive, I mean HOW THE SHIT CAN THEY NOT TELL THEY’RE GETTING IN OVER THEIR HEADS? Seriously, this dude drops a goddamn pillowcase full on the table like it’s nothing and picks up the pistol like “hurr hurr Imma win dis”. He gets his friend to challenge a well dressed man to a game, and since it’s rigged, the duo knows all the money the guy drops onto the table will be theirs. The gig goes well, but Jack decides it’s time to bring in some extra cash flow. The one who doesn’t quit or get their leg blown into oblivion wins the pot. The rules are if you don’t land on the bullet, you have to throw in some extra paper to keep the game going. You do the whole “one in the cylinder spinspinspinspin fire” thing, but your knee is the target. He and his buddy run an interesting twist on Russian Roulette, and quite frankly live up to the mafia trademark “kneecappers”. The Film– Jack is a small time French crook who aspires to be a member of an established gang.
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