03x02 - Mail Order Prophet

[bunniefuu]

Hello, fellow speculators.

I've just made a k*lling in the stock market,

nothing to it.

I simply told my partner
we've been wiped out.

He's a very excitable fellow.

Actually I was joking.
We haven't been wiped out.

Actually we have made a tidy profit.

I wish he hadn't done it.

We have a very sensitive elevator man.

He doesn't like it
when he brings people up,

and then they don't ride down again.

It confuses him.

As for our story, it is called
"The Mail Order Prophet."

And it too is set in the background
of stocks and bonds.

And, so begins another day
at the old jute mill.

You'd think after years we could
be trusted to open our own mail.

That's the trouble
with this office,

there's no power of decision.

Ronald, there's only one power.

They throw the switch
and start the assembly line.

Why do we put up with it, George?

Why do we go on year after year
being treated like the robots?

Because we're not robots.
We're cogs.

Only small cogs
in a very large machine.

They feed raw material here,

and somewhere down the line
money pours out.

Of course,
I've never seen any of it,

but I do have it
on good authority.

Someday I'm going to walk out of here
and stall their blasted machinery.

My boy,
you are having delusions.

Nobody here is an essential part
of the machinery.

They'd slip in a new cog

and within an hour,
nobody would know you were gone.

It would shake 'em up
for an hour anyway.

And we'll all take a collection
for a headstone,

"Here lies Ronald Grimes."
You'd starve to death.

I'd get another job.

On another assembly line?

The only way to b*at the system,
my dear friend,

is to inherit a million dollars.

And I believe that the base metals
are a sound speculation,

provided you can liquidate
enough of the Peterson Estates.

Oh, good morning, sir.

There appears to be additional mail
for you this morning, Grimes.

Since it's marked personal,
I assumed it wasn't a business letter.

It hasn't been opened.

Oh, thank you, sir.

I can't understand why
it should have been sent here...

So that's how you're going to
b*at the system, huh?

Marry a rich widow?

It's not a woman.

Do we have a client
named J. Christiani?

No, of course not.

This is somebody's idea of a joke.
Read it.

"I, J. Christiani,
have been blessed with

"supernatural ability
to look into the future

"and forecast events to come.

"After great consideration
and for reasons of my own,

"I have selected you
to be the sole beneficiary of this power."

Congratulations, you lucky dog.
This is better than a million dollars.

It's a real crackpot.

Now, don't be so skeptical.

Now, this guy's the answer
to all your dreams.

"I can solemnly promise that if you
avail yourself of this opportunity,

"you will become rich
beyond your wildest imagination!"

Now, what more
can you ask for?

A look at his bank account
for one thing.

Now, look, he explains that.

"I am not permitted to use
this power for my own use."

Well, that's the way those things are, Ronald.
Everybody knows that.

I wonder
who the practical joker is.

This is no joke. Look, he lays it
right on the line.

His Honor Mayor Twiss will be
defeated in the election next week.

He's out of his mind,
whoever he is.

Hampton has no more chance
of being elected than I do.

Ronald, I'm disappointed in you.

Here is opportunity
pounding at your door

and you won't risk
a few miserable dollars.

You realize you can get
at least three to one odds.

Here, let me see that.

Of course. This is
some political gimmick.

Hampton has sent these out
by the thousands.

Well, here's one vote
he won't get.

George?

Yeah.

Did you ever hear of anyone
who could foretell the future?

Are you kidding?

Good evening, Mr. Grimes.
Nasty weather, haven't we?

May I help you?

Thanks, Tony.
Mr. Benedict here?

At your table, sir.

Oh, thank you.

You're late. I was starved,
so I went ahead and ordered pork stews.

The storm held me up.
I hate these winter rains.

Well, it's the same every year.

There's nothing
anybody can do about it.

Some people go to a better climate,
Florida or the Bahamas.

I'd like to go there someday.

That's a dream. Forget it.

You're trapped
just like the rest of us.

I'll order a little later.

Very good, sir.

George, I got another letter
from J. Christiani.

Who?
Christiani.

The fellow who says
he can foretell the future.

Oh, come on now, Ronald, you're not
going to start that nonsense again.

Well, he was right
about the election, wasn't he?

Hampton won. It was the biggest
political upset in years.

You are right. The letters he sent out
really turned the tide.

No, no, I was wrong
about that, George.

It wasn't a political scheme.

Christiani sent me a prediction
about the championship fight Friday night.

Well, I can call that one myself.
Booker by a knockout.

Well, I don't know much
about fights.

Booker's the champion?
Yes.

Well, Christiani says
the other fellow, Mathews, will win.

What?

Well, I guess the man's
entitled to his opinion.

He says I can get
very good odds.

I'm sure you can.
But don't do it, Ronald.

Look, I'll admit I don't know
anything about politics

but I do know about the fights.

Look, this fellow Mathews
is a fourth-rater.

That's why he got the bout.

Booker can name the round,
he'll knock him out.

Well, Christiani was right
about the elections, wasn't he?

That was luck,
pure and simple.

Oh, don't be an idiot, Ronald.

Nobody can predict the future,
it just isn't possible.

Look, you're an intelligent man.

Come on. Come on, champ.
Keep boxing around.

Sock him on that glass jaw!

That guy Mathews will never
come out of the seven.

Any takers?

Attaboy, champ.
You got it in the bag now.

Some brawl, huh?
But wait till the champ nails him.

Will that Mathews
hear the birdies sing?

But which one
is the champ?

Black trunks.

Oh, then the other fellow
in the white trunks is Willie Mathews.

That's the way
it works out.

Thank you.

How does a fellow
go about making a bet?

It's too late for that,
unless you want to take Mathews.

Now's the time, champ.

Hit him.

You got him.

Come on, Mathews.

Let him have it.

Hey!
three,

four, five...
Get up.

... six...
Get up.

... seven, eight, nine, ten.
Champ, that was just
a love tap.

A regular sleeping beauty.

Is it over?
Is that the end?

What do you think?

Lucky for you, you didn't get here
in time to lose your money.

But I wanted to bet
on Mathews.

Another one?

Yes.

What does that make?

Four or five.
I don't know.

You know, this is the craziest thing
I've ever heard of.

Ronald, when are you
going to get some sense?

Uh, what did you say?

All right, I know
it's none of my business.

It's just I hate to see a friend
being taken for a chump.

Am I a chump?

You've been betting
on these predictions, haven't you?

Well, yes, I have.

How much have you lost?

Only those first two times,
because I didn't bet.

George, this man has been right
for five straight predictions.

Now, doesn't that prove
he can foretell the future?

No, it only proves he's had a phenomenal
run of good luck and nothing more.

The law of averages
has to b*at him in the end.

I don't think it is luck.

I believe Christiani knows
what's going to happen.

You believe it because
you want to believe it.

You're the kind that has to believe
that there's a great day coming.

That lightning will strike,

or you're gonna find a pot of gold
at the end of the rainbow.

Well, Ronald, things just
don't work that way.

Look, fairy tales went out of style
centuries ago.

I'm making money.
It's a chance to escape.

Oh, no, no, there's no escape.

You were lucky so far.
How much have you won?

Almost $ .

Okay. That's good.
I'm really glad for you.

And you better quit
while you're still ahead.

No. No dessert, just coffee.
Thank you.

All right, sir.
For you, sir?

The same thing.
Thank you.

Another Christiani tip sheet?

George, I like to ask
your advice.

No, thank you.
I tried that once, remember?

I'd appreciate it
if you'd read this.

Look, I'll tell you how it is.

I wouldn't want to say
I told you so,

but if I read your letter I'm afraid
I wouldn't be able to resist.

Isn't that a new suit?

I made some money
on an investment.

Seersucker, no doubt.

No, it's wool.

That's strange.

'Cause for every seer
there's got to be a sucker.

I'm sorry, Ronald.
I couldn't resist that one.

Excuse me.

Okay, what's the trouble?

You remember saying
this was a racket,

there had to be something
in it for Christiani?

Oh, now comes the bite, huh?

Well, you can't say
you weren't warned.

How much is he asking?

He doesn't specify.

I'll read it to you.

"As I told you
in my first letter,

"I cannot use this power
for personal gain.

"You, however, are not prohibited
from sharing your good fortune.

"My address
is Post Office Box ."

Well, I must say I'm disappointed
in your mail order prophet.

I expected
a more subtle approach.

Well, I hope
you're not going to fall for this.

Well, it seems only fair.
Even prophets have to live.

And after all,
I have made $ , .

But, look, you haven't
subscribed to his service.

It's legally uncollectible.

That's not quite the point.
Let me read you the rest of it.

"As a token of my gratitude

"I will send you
a stock market prediction

"that will return
your investment ten-fold."

It's the old bait. He's got you
hot and eager now, sure.

Cut him in on the take
and you'll be rolling in money.

It's an old con game.

But suppose it isn't.

Suppose he does have
prophetic knowledge,

after all he's been right six times.

Now, you can't put that away as luck.

I know something
about the law of averages, too.

Yes, and you know something
about the stock market,

or you've wasted
the last years.

You'll be flat broke.

Well, that's the problem.
I am broke.

I mean,
I've spent all the money,

except $ , which I've got
to send to Christiani.

Ronald, I've got $
in my savings account.

And if ever
you're really up against it,

I'm always good for a touch.

But for a hair-brained scheme
like this, not one dime.

I wasn't trying
to borrow from you.

But if I could just lay my hands
on some real money,

just for a few days,
I'd clear enough to retire.

If you're considering
what I think you are,

you're not going to retire
to the Bahamas,

you're going to retire
to Sing Sing.

I don't know
what you're talking about.

I'm talking
about the company funds.

Oh, sure, you can borrow
a few thousand
over the weekend.

But when the Tuesday audit
comes around,

you'd better have
a good story,

because you sure aren't going to
have the money.

But I've always won before.

All right.

I'll admit I don't know
how he's always been right so far.

But I do know this,

that predicting the future
is a scientific impossibility!

And, Ronald, if you're gonna be sucker
enough to believe it,

well, I'll try to smuggle
a hacksaw into you.

Tony, grab my check.
Right, sir.

Mr. Benedict's coat, please.

Here is the Smithfield file.

Thank you.

I'll return it myself.

Mr. Fay, please.

Hello, this
is Ronald J. Grimes.

I'd like to get a quotation
on Athabaska Mines.

Thirty cents.

I'd like to order
, shares on margin.

Will negotiable bonds
be acceptable?

All right.

I'll bring them over myself
before closing.

Thank you.

"Gentlemen,

"when you receive this letter,

"you will already know
what I have done

"and no explanation
is really necessary.

"And yet, because I know
everyone will say

"poor old Grimes simply wasn't
the type to end it all.

"I'm writing this
so there will be no mystery.

"If you read this letter,

"you will know I lost."

So you really did it?

How deep did you go?

A hundred thousand shares
on margin.

$ , .

$ , ?

You poor stupid slob.

You've really sawed
yourself off.

It could go up, George.

Maybe they've made a new strike
or declared an extra dividend.

That would send it
up today.

It's happened before.

If it drops off
three cents a share,

tomorrow you'll have a shortage
you'll never make up.

Grimes! Your telephone is ringing.

All right, sir. Thank you...

Ronald.

The stock market closes
in minutes.

I know.

Well?

There's no hurry, George,
I'll wait until the last minute.

Mr. Fay, please?

Hello. This is Ronald Grimes.

What is the last quotation
on Athabaska Mines?

Yes.

All of it.

Yes.

Thank you.

I told my broker to sell.
Sell all of it.

At $ . a share.

Do you understand, George?

I bought , shares
at cents.

And now they are worth
$ . apiece.

Do you understand
what that means?

That's $ , .

I don't believe it.

I know you don't.
You never did believe it.

That's what's wrong with you, George.
You don't have any faith.

Fairy tales went out of style
centuries ago.

There's no pot at the end
of the rainbow.

That's what's wrong
with you, George.

You don't believe in anything.

I think I'm babbling.
I want to say this calmly.

When I put back the $ , ,

I'll have $ , left.

You tell them tomorrow
to get a new cog for the machine.

I'm not coming back.

You know, of course,
it's contrary to regulations

to give out any information
on post office boxes.

I understand that,

you see, but it's vitally important
that I contact this man.

Then I'd suggest you write to him
care of his box number.

I've done that
but the letters have come back.

He doesn't have a box
any longer.

I'm very sorry,
Mr. Benedict.

There's simply nothing
I can do for you.

Oh, look, you can check
for another address.

You don't have to tell me
where he is. Just forward it.

J. Christiani.

Yes, I guess
I can tell you where he is.

Oh, thank you.

We'll need detailed information
from you on your losses.

I don't understand.
I haven't lost anything.

Mr. Benedict,
I appreciate your reluctance

to admit
that you were fleeced.

But we'll require all the evidence
we can get for a conviction.

Whether you recover any of your money,
that's another question.

Look, I don't know
what you're talking about.

I'm just trying to locate
a man named J. Christiani.

He's in jail, Mr. Benedict,
for using the mails to defraud.

Do you mean it was just
a racket after all?

Now you didn't really believe
he could predict the future.

But he did predict
and they were right.

Of course, they were.
Half of them had to be right.

Oh, it's really very simple.

He sent out thousands of letters
to people offering to make them rich.

Half of them he advised to bet
on Mayor Twiss to be reelected.

The other half were told
that Hampton would be the winner.

Now, suppose he started
with , people.

He couldn't fail
to have , winners.

I see.

His second letter predicted
the outcome of the championship fight.

Using the same system.

He now has , people
who begin to believe in his power.

After another four letters he's reduced
the number to customers,

who are absolutely convinced
he's an authentic prophet.

And then he asked
for the contribution.

Right.

He offers to give them a tip
on the stock market that will make them rich.

How many people
would be able to resist?

None, of course.

Christiani has already demonstrated
he's infallible.

So he gets his donations,
ranging from $ to $ apiece,

a total of over $ , .

But the stock did go up.

It was quite possible.

He gave all persons
a different tip.

If even one of them turned out,

he could make one final appeal
for another donation.

After that, he leaves town
and starts up somewhere else.

It was really quite
an ingenious scheme,
Mr. Benedict.

I don't wonder a lot of people
were taken in by it.

You really shouldn't
be embarrassed.

Look, I wasn't taken in by it.
It was a friend.

A friend?

Yes, a friend,
a man in the office.

I tried to reason with him.

From the start I told him
it was a racket.

Any intelligent man knows
you can't predict the future.

You think he'd listen to me?
No, sir, not on your life.

He still believes
there's a Santa Claus.

This is a pretty hard lesson
for him.

Next time he may be
a little more practical.

No. No, I'm afraid he won't.

I don't think anybody
will ever convince him now.

This concludes
our entertainment.

So until next time when we shall
bring you another story.

Goodbye.