The Wolf of Wall Street
Quotes Page 1 2
USER REVIEWS THE NOVEL
[first lines; we see a conservative TV commercial for Stratton Oakmont, Inc. showing a lion walking through one of the floor of the company]
Commercial Voice Over: The world of investing can be a jungle. Bulls, bears, danger at every turn. That’s why we at Stratton Oakmont pride our self on being the best. Trained professionals to guide you through the financial wilderness. Stratton Oakmont. Stability, integrity, pride.
[immediately following the commercial we see what’s really going on in Stratton Oakmont where the brokers, looking drunk, are all gathered playing a game]
Stock Brokers: One, two, three!
[a dwarf is thrown onto a massive dartboard with a dollar sign for a bulls-eye and everyone cheers]
Jordan Belfort: Twenty-five grand to the first cocksucker to nail a bullseye!
[he throws the money onto the floor and everyone cheers]
Jordan Belfort: Come on! Let’s go!
[Jordan and another broker pick up another dwarf by his pants and collar and countdown to throw him]
Stock Brokers: One, two, three!
[the dwarf is thrown and goes hurtling towards the board and the camera freezes on him as Jordan introduces himself]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] My name is Jordan Belfort. Not him, me. That’s right. I’m a former member of the middle class raised by two accountants in a tiny apartment in Bayside, Queens. The year I turned twenty-six as the head of my own brokerage firm, I made forty-nine million dollars. Which really pissed me off because it was three shy of a million a week.
[we see a photo of young Jordan with his dad, then we see a red Ferrari being driven on the highway]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] No, no, no, no. My Ferrari was white, like Don Johnson’s in Miami Vice, not red.
[the Ferrari’s color turns to white, inside it Jordan drives as he’s getting a blow job from a blond]
[next we see a large house]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] See that humongous estate down there? That’s my house.
[in the bedroom a woman lies in the bed wearing her underwear looking seductive]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] My wife, Naomi. The Duchess of Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, a former model and Miller Lite girl. Yeah, she was the one with my cock in her mouth in the Ferrari. So put your dick back in your pants. In addition to Naomi and my two perfect kids, I own a mansion, private jet, six cars, three horses, two vacation homes and a hundred and seventy foot yacht.
[we see Jordan blowing cocaine into a hooker’s butt]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] I also gamble like a degenerate, I drink like a fish, I fuck hookers maybe five-six times a week. I have three different Federal agencies looking to indict me. Oh, yeah. And I love drugs.
[suddenly Jordan looks up as if he’s heard something, but there’s no one there]
Jordan Belfort: Okay.
[he slaps the hookers ass]
Hooker: Oh, yeah.
Jordan Belfort: One more.
[he slaps her ass again]
Hooker: Oh, you like it?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Later that night…
[a drunk and high looking Jordan flies a helicopter when the helicopter starts going down]
Helicopter Pilot: Pull up! Pull up! We’re gonna crash! For Christ sake!
Jordan Belfort: Come on!
[Jordan manages to pull the helicopter up at the last minute looking extremely drunk]
Jordan Belfort: Just relax!
[as Jordan tries to pull the helicopter up, he loses control and the helicopter slams to the ground]
Jordan Belfort: Oh, fuck.
[looking at the pilot]
Jordan Belfort: You okay?
Helicopter Pilot: Yeah, I’m alright.
Jordan Belfort: Alright, good.
Helicopter Pilot: Good job.
Jordan Belfort: Good.
Helicopter Pilot: You got in there safe, alright?
Jordan Belfort: Until next time, brother.
Helicopter Pilot: Until next time.
[Jordan flops out of the helicopter]
[we see Jordan in his house walking out of his room drinking a glass of orange juice, as he walks down the stairs he talks into the camera]
Jordan Belfort: Yep, on a daily basis I consume enough drugs to sedate Manhattan, Long Island, and Queens. For a month.
[his housekeeper holds the front door open for him]
Housekeeper: Okay, Mr. Jordan.
[Jordan walks out the front door and continues talking to the camera]
Jordan Belfort: I take Quaaludes, ten to fifteen times a day, for my “back pain”. Adderall to stay focused.
[he throws his glass of orange juice aside as he walks towards his car]
Jordan Belfort: Xanax to take the edge off pot to mellow me out, cocaine to wake me back up again, and morphine, well, because it’s awesome.
[to his chauffeur, who’s holding the car door open for him]
Jordan Belfort: Morning, Nathan.
[he gets in the car and his chauffeur drives him to work]
[he talks into the camera as he walks into his office building]
Jordan Belfort: But of all the drugs under God’s blue heaven, there is one that is my absolute favorite.
[in his office Jordan uses a credit card to cut a line of coke on his desk]
Jordan Belfort: See, enough of this shit’ll make you invincible. Able to conquer the world and eviscerate you enemies.
[he snorts up a line of coke with a $100 bill, then points to the cocaine]
Jordan Belfort: And I’m not talking about this. I’m talking about this.
[he unrolls the $100 bill and snaps it, he then crumples it up and tosses into a wastebasket]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] See money doesn’t just buy you a better life, better food, better cars, better pussy, it also makes you a better person. You can give generously to the church or the political party of your choice. You can save the fucking spotted owl with money.
[Jordan walks out onto the office floor where the rest of the brokers are, they all cheer him as he walks through them and takes front stage to stand in front of a microphone]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] I always wanted to be rich. So let me go back. I’m twenty-two years old, newly married, and already a money crazed little shit. So what do I do? I go to the one place on earth that befit my high-minded ambitions..
[flashback to a younger Jordan arriving on the bus to Wall Street, he kisses his wife, Teresa Petrillo, goodbye before stepping off the bus]
[Jordan meets one of the brokers he’ll be working for on his first day at the job]
Jerry Fogel: You are lower than fucking pond scum. You got a problem with that?
[looks at Jordan’s name badge]
Jerry Fogel: Jordan?
Jordan Belfort: No, no problem at all.
Jerry Fogel: Good, because that is it what you are, pond scum
[he turns and takes Jordan to his desk]
Jerry Fogel: Your job is ‘connector’, which means that you will be dialing the phone over five hundred times a day trying to connect me with wealthy business owners. And until you pass your Series 7, that is all you’re gonna be fucking doing.
[pointing to a chair by one of the desks]
Jerry Fogel: Sit. Sit!
[Jordan quickly sits down]
Jerry Fogel: Right, just so you know, last year I made over three hundred thousand dollars. The other guy you’ll be working for, he made over a million.
[Fogel takes his seat at his desk]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] A million dollars? I could only imagine what a douchebag that guy must be.
[suddenly a man grabs Jordan’s shoulders from behind]
Mark Hanna: Jordan Belfort?
Jordan Belfort: Ye…yes, sir.
Mark Hanna: Mark Hanna.
[he shakes hands with Jordan]
Jordan Belfort: Pleasure to meet you.
Mark Hanna: And you as well. I see you’ve already met the village asshole.
[Fogel slams down a stack of cards on Jordan’s desk]
Jerry Fogel: Smile and dial. And don’t pick up your fucking head until one.
[to Jordan]
Mark Hanna: Hey, fuck him. I’m the senior broker here, he’s just a worthless piker.
Jerry Fogel: Why don’t you blow me, Hanna?
[Hanna blows him a mocking kiss]
Mark Hanna: Now did you really pitch a stock in your job interview?
Jordan Belfort: I had to do something to stand out, right, sir?
Mark Hanna: I fucking love that.
[he smiles, pats Jordon on the chest and starts to walk away]
Mark Hanna: Lunch, today.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, alright.
[Hanna looks at the giant clock on the office wall and shouts to the other brokers]
Mark Hanna: Oh, we don’t start dialing at 9:30, because our clients are already answering the phone. Three, two, one! Let’s fuck!
[the bell rings to signal the opening of the stock market and everyone starts dialing]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] You wanna know what money sounds like? Go to a trading floor on Wall street. Fuck this shit that, cunt, cock, asshole. I couldn’t believe how these guys talk to each other. I was hooked in seconds. It was like mainlining adrenaline.
[one of the brokers shouts to another]
Broker #1: Yeah, fuck face! Look at where the stock’s at today, huh?
[Jordan watches the brokers in fascination when suddenly Fogel notices he isn’t dialing, he kicks Jordan’s chair]
Jerry Fogel: Pick up the cock sucking phone!
Jordan Belfort: Sir, yes, sir.
[Hanna who’s talking into his phone notices this and throws his stress ball at Fogel]
Jerry Fogel: You are such a fucking dougchebag, Hanna.
[Hanna gives him the finger]
[Hanna is talking on the phone]
Mark Hanna: We don’t give two shits about how technology works, because all we care about is getting fucking rich!
[he points to Jordan, who smiles as he’s talking on the phone]
Mark Hanna: Solid two thousand.
[Hanna slams down his phone in victory and yells]
Mark Hanna: Done! Time to paint the tape! Wooh! A two thousand Microsoft goin’ in the hole!
[he places a ticket into a cylinder and goes over to Jordan]
Mark Hanna: Come on!
[Jordan ends his call and goes over to Hanna]
Mark Hanna: It’s alive, it’s alive. Hold on to that, it’s hot.
[he gives the cylinder to Jordan, he opens the hole in the wall where the pneumatic tube is]
Mark Hanna: In, in.
[Jordan places the cylinder into the tube]
Mark Hanna: Shut that motherfucker. Shut it! Shut it!
[Jordan shuts the door]
Mark Hanna: Sold!
[later whilst at lunch with Hanna, Jordan watches Hanna as he does a rhythmic chant while pounding his chest, Jordan looks around him awkwardly as Hanna continues to pound his chest until he finishes]
Mark Hanna: Yeah.
[Hanna then hums to himself as he takes out a vial and snorts some cocaine, he offers some to Jordan]
Mark Hanna: Tootski?
Jordan Belfort: Oh, no. No, thank you though.
[the waiter comes over to their table]
Hector: Mr. Hanna, what can I bring for you on this glorious afternoon?
Mark Hanna: Well, Hector here’s the game plan. You’re gonna bring us two Absolut martinis, you know how I like ’em, straight up.
[he gives Hector some money]
Mark Hanna: And then precisely in seven and one half minutes after that you’re gonna bring us two more. And then two more after that every five minutes until one of us passes the fuck out.
[Jordan laughs]
Hector: Excellent strategy, sir.
Jordan Belfort: Oh, I’m…I’m good with water for now though. Thank you.
[to Hector]
Mark Hanna: It’s his first day on Wall Street, give him time.
[Hector chuckles and gives them the menus]
Mark Hanna: Thank you.
Hector: Mm-hmm.
Jordan Belfort: Thank you.
[Hector walks off]
Jordan Belfort: Mr. Hanna, you’re able to…to do drugs during the day and still function, still do your job?
Mark Hanna: Well, how the fuck else would you do this job? Cocaine and hookers, my friends.
Jordan Belfort: Right.
[Jordan laughs awkwardly]
Jordan Belfort: I gotta say, I’m incredibly excited to be a part of your firm. I mean…the clients you have are absolutely…
Mark Hanna: Fuck the clients. Your only responsibility is to put meat on the table. You got a girlfriend?
Jordan Belfort: I’m…I’m married. I have a wife, her name is Teresa. She cuts hair.
Mark Hanna: Congratulations.
Jordan Belfort: Thank you.
Mark Hanna: Think about Teresa. Name of the game, move the money from your clients pocket into your pocket.
Jordan Belfort: Right. But if you can make the clients money at the same time, it’s advantageous to everyone, correct?
Mark Hanna: No. Number one rule of Wall Street. Nobody, I don’t care if you’re Warren Buffet or if you’re Jimmy Buffet, nobody knows if a stock is gonna go up, down, sideways or in fucking circles, least of all stock brokers, right?
Jordan Belfort: Mm-hmm.
Mark Hanna: It’s all a fugazi. Do you know what fugazi is?
Jordan Belfort: Fugazi, it’s a fake…
Mark Hanna: Yeah, fugazi, fogazi. It’s a wazi, it’s a woozi. It’s…fairy dust. It doesn’t exist, it’s never landed, it is no matter, it’s not on the elemental charge. It’s not fucking real.
Jordan Belfort: Right.
Mark Hanna: Alright?
Jordan Belfort: Right.
Mark Hanna: Stay with me.
Jordan Belfort: Mm-hmm.
Mark Hanna: We don’t create shit, we don’t build anything.
Jordan Belfort: No.
Mark Hanna: So if you got a client who brought stock at eight, and it now sits at sixteen, and he’s all fucking happy, he wants to cash it and liquidate and take his fucking money and run home. You don’t let him do that.
Jordan Belfort: Okay.
Mark Hanna: Cause that would make it real.
Jordan Belfort: Right.
Mark Hanna: No, what do you do? You get another brilliant idea, a special idea. Another situation, another stock to reinvest his earnings and then some. And he will, every single time.
Jordan Belfort: Mm-hmm.
Mark Hanna: Cause they’re fucking addicted. And then you just keep doing this, again, and again, and again. Meanwhile, he thinks he’s getting shit rich, which he is, on paper. But you and me, the brokers?
Jordan Belfort: Right.
Mark Hanna: We’re taking home cold hard cash via commission, motherfucker.
Jordan Belfort: Right! That’s incredible, sir. I’m…I can’t tell you how excited I am.
Mark Hanna: You should be.
Mark Hanna: There’s two keys to success in the broker business. First of all, you gotta stay relaxed.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah.
Mark Hanna: You jerk off?
Jordan Belfort: Do I…do I jerk off? Yeah. Yeah, I jerk off, yeah.
Mark Hanna: How many times a week?
Jordan Belfort: Like, uh…three…three, three, four…three or four times, maybe five.
Mark Hanna: You gotta pump those numbers up. Those are rookie numbers in this racket. I, myself, I jerk off at least twice a day.
Jordan Belfort: Wow.
Mark Hanna: Once in the morning, right after I work out, and then once right after lunch.
Jordan Belfort: Really?
Mark Hanna: Mm-hmm. Why? I want to. That’s not why I do it. I do it because I fucking need to.
Jordan Belfort: Mm-hmm.
Mark Hanna: Think about it, you’re dealing with numbers all day long. Decimal points, high frequencies, bang, bang, bang. Eh-eh-eh-eh. Fucking digits kick, kick, kick, all very acidic above the shoulders mustard shit.
Jordan Belfort: Mm-hmm.
Mark Hanna: Right?
Jordan Belfort: Mm-hmm.
Mark Hanna: The con can wig some people out.
Jordan Belfort: Mm-hmm.
Mark Hanna: Right? So you gotta feed the geese to keep the blood flowing. And keep the rhythm below the belt.
Jordan Belfort: Done.
Mark Hanna: This is not a tip, this is a prescription. Trust me. If you don’t, you will fall out of balance. Glitch your differential and the tip fuck over. Or worse yet, I’ve seen this happen, implode.
Jordan Belfort: No, I don’t wanna implode, sir.
Mark Hanna: No. No, you don’t.
Jordan Belfort: I’m in it for the long run, you know?
Mark Hanna: Yeah. Implosions are ugly.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah.
Mark Hanna: Pop off to the bathroom, work one out anytime you can. And when you get really good at it, you’ll be fucking stroking it and you’ll be thinking about money.
Mark Hanna: Second key to success.
[he holds up his small vial of cocaine]
Mark Hanna: In this racket is this little baby right here, it’s called cocaine.
Jordan Belfort: Right.
Mark Hanna: It will keep you sharp between the ears. It’ll also help your fingers dial faster. And guess what? That’s good for me.
[to the waiter that’s just come up to their table shaking his martini]
Mark Hanna: Yes, sir.
[to Jordan]
Mark Hanna: Revolutions, you follow?
Jordan Belfort: Revolutions.
Mark Hanna: Keep the client on the ferris wheel, and it goes, the park is open twenty-four, seven, three, six, five. Every decade, every Goddamn century. That’s it.
[they clink their glasses together to toast]
Mark Hanna: Name of the game.
[Jordan drinks from his glass of water as Hanna drinks his martini]
Mark Hanna: Halkidiki? Mmm.
Jordan Belfort: Thank you.
[Jordan takes an olive from the bowl of olives, then Hanna starts doing his rhythmic chant and pounding his chest, Jordan watches him awkwardly]
Mark Hanna: Come on.
[Jordan joins in and starts doing the same rhythmic chant and pounding his chest]
Mark Hanna: With a common denominator.
[they continue doing the rhythmic chant and pounding of their chests, Hanna stops to drink his martini]
Mark Hanna: Keep it up for me.
[Jordan continues the chanting and pounding of his chest, then Hanna starts to sing as Jordan does the chanting]
Mark Hanna: The CEO. How the money comes in. The parade comes to town. Going down Broadway. It’s a one way street, whichever way I go.
[we see Jordan in a strip club]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] For the next six months I got to know the ins and outs of Wall Street. Earning shit money as I geared up to take my series 7.
[we then see Jordan walking into his office building]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Then I was a licensed broker at last, ready to make my fortune. My first day as a future Master of the Universe.
[we see Jordan entering the elevator]
[October 19, 1987; Jordan is talking on the phone looking stressed, the whole office is up in chaos as all the brokers are on their phones]
Jordan Belfort: I have X on an eighty-six and a quarter from six month ago! Today it is turning thirty-six and a half! Mr. B…!
[Jordan slams down his phone and pounds his fist on his desk in frustration]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] They called it “Black Monday”. No shit, by 4 PM the market had dropped five hundred and eight points. The biggest plummet since the crash of ’29.
[he hears Hanna talking on the phone]
Mark Hanna: I know your family, you know mine! No, I don’t know, from some fucking country in Europe took a shit. Let them do what they want to fucking do. Our market’s solid.
[we see some of the brokers as they are talking on their phones]
Broker #1: This is not something that you wanna sell!
Jerry Fogel: You know what happened? A fucking Tsunami.
Broker #1: I think you’re making a big mistake.
Jerry Fogel: Well, yes, I will talk to your wife. If you want me to.
Mark Hanna: Do not answer the phone. A lot of people are gonna be calling you, trying to get your dirty laundry.
Broker #2: We don’t know what’s going on here.
Mark Hanna: I know, I know.
[suddenly the closing market bell rings and the whole office goes silent, the brokers look at each other in stunned silence]
Mark Hanna: Holy…fucking shit.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Unbelievable. My first shitty day as a broker. Within a month, L.F. Rothschild, an institution since 1899, closed its doors. Wall Street had swallowed me up and shit me right back out again.
[in their apartment, Jordan is sat with Teresa at the kitchen table, Jordan is looking at the newspaper]
Teresa Petrillo: We could pawn my engagement ring, if we needed to.
Jordan Belfort: Babe…
Teresa Petrillo: Cause I don’t mind. If we needed to, I’m saying. It’s…
Jordan Belfort: Will you listen to me.
Teresa Petrillo: Okay.
Jordan Belfort: You’re not pawning anything, okay?
Teresa Petrillo: Okay.
Jordan Belfort: What do I always tell you, huh?
Teresa Petrillo: You’re going to be a millionaire.
Jordan Belfort: That’s right, okay? So let me look, I’ll find something.
[looking at the newspaper]
Jordan Belfort: How about this?
Teresa Petrillo: What?
Jordan Belfort: “Nobody Beats the Wiz”, an electronic store. Stock boy. What do you think?
Teresa Petrillo: You’re not gonna work at that place.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, but you know, you start off…
Teresa Petrillo: Jordan, you’re gonna be miserable at that place if you go there.
Jordan Belfort: It’s sales, you work your way up…
Teresa Petrillo: Jordan.
Jordan Belfort: You’d be a general manager.
Teresa Petrillo: You’re not gonna be a stock boy.
Jordan Belfort: Why not?
Teresa Petrillo: Cause you’re a stock broker.
Jordan Belfort: Do you understand that nobody’s hiring stock brokers right now? You understand that? Okay?
[she scans the newspaper and finds an ad]
Teresa Petrillo: Ah, this place is.
Jordan Belfort: What?
Teresa Petrillo: What’s that say?
[Jordan reads the ad]
Jordan Belfort: Stock brokers.
[Teresa laughs]
Jordan Belfort: Long Island. Stock brokers in Long Island.
Teresa Petrillo: Yeah.
[Jordan turns up to the Investor Center looking professional dressed in his suit, as he enters the building he sees everyone is dressed casually and the place looks shabby]
Jordan Belfort: Hey, uh…I’m-I’m looking for an Investor’s Center?
[one of the brokers looks up]
Dwayne: What’s that, you wanna invest?
Jordan Belfort: No, Investor’s Center. I’m looking for Investor Center?
Dwayne: Yeah, yeah, that’s us. Hi. This is it. This is it.
Jordan Belfort: Oh.
Dwayne: I’m Dwayne.
[Dwayne extends his hand]
Jordan Belfort: You’re Dwayne?
Dwayne: Yeah.
[Jordan shakes his hand]
Jordan Belfort: Alright, Dwayne. We spoke on the phone. I’m Jordan Belfort. I’m a broker from Rothschild from New York.
Dwayne: Yes. Yeah, have a seat. How are you?
Jordan Belfort: You remember, we had a conversation…
Dwayne: We spoke on phone the other day, right?
Jordan Belfort: Two hours ago.
Dwayne: Right, yeah.
[Jordan looks around at the other brokers, who are all dressed casually and look the opposite of what Jordan had seen in New York]
Jordan Belfort: So, uh…where are…where are your quotrons?
Dwayne: Quotrons?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, your computers.
Dwayne: No, no, no. We don’t even need computers here. We just trade right off the pink sheets here.
[he shows him one of the pink sheets]
Jordan Belfort: Pink sheets?
Dwayne: Yeah, they’re penny stocks. You know, companies that can’t get listed on NASDAQ, they don’t have enough capital, their shares trade here.
Jordan Belfort: Penny stocks?
Dwayne: Yeah. This on, uh…Aerotyne, is a really interesting…Aerotyne.
[looking at the pink sheet in Dwayne’s hand]
Jordan Belfort: Aerotyne, yeah.
Dwayne: Aero…Aerotyne.
Jordan Belfort: Aerotyne, huh? Yeah.
Dwayne: Very hot stock right now.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah?
[Jordan takes the pink sheet from Dwayne and looks at it]
Dwayne: You know they’re just a couple of brothers that are making radar detectors out of their garage. They’re at Dubuque. Maybe its microwaves, I’m not sure. But if you call the company’s mainline, their mom, Dorothy, answers and she is so sweet.
Jordan Belfort: A company?
Dwayne: I actually don’t know what else to… I don’t know anything else about them other than that.
[he laughs]
Jordan Belfort: Six cents a share? Oh, come on. Who buys this crap?
Dwayne: Well, I mean, honestly mostly schmucks. Postmen, there’s always postmen. Uh…plumbers. Um…they see our ads in the back of Hustler and Popular Mechanics, and our ads actually say they can get rich quick.
[he laughs]
Jordan Belfort: Hustler?
Dwayne: Yeah. You know the girly magazine?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, yeah. Nudie mag.
Dwayne: A lot.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah.
Dwayne: We’re helping them finance, uh…houses, we’re helping them buy their wife a diamond ring, a boat maybe.
Jordan Belfort: Is this…is this, uh…is this stuff regulated or are you guys…? What are you doing here?
Dwayne: Uh…sort of.
Jordan Belfort: Sort of?
[reading from the pink sheet]
Jordan Belfort: Jesus Christ, the spread on these is huge.
Dwayne: Yeah, and that’s the point. That’s… What’s your name again?
Jordan Belfort: My…Jordan Belfort.
Dwayne: Jordan, what do you get on that blue chip stock?
Jordan Belfort: I make one percent. Well, I did make one percent.
Dwayne: Pink sheets it’s fifty.
Jordan Belfort: It’s fifty percent? Fifty percent commission?
Dwayne: Yeah.
Jordan Belfort: For what?
Dwayne: It’s our mark up for our services.
Jordan Belfort: So, if I…if I…if I sell a stock at ten thousand dollars, my commission is five thousand bucks?
Dwayne: If you sell ten thousand dollars worth of this stock, I will personally give you a blow job for free.
[Jordan laughs]
Dwayne: And I hope it happens.
[they both laugh]
[later, sat at a desk Jordan calls a potential investor about Aerotyne]
Jordan Belfort: Hello, John. How are you doing today? You mailed in my company a post card a few week back, requesting information on penny stocks that had huge upside potential with very little down side risks. Does that ring a bell?
John: Oh, yeah. I may have sent something.
Jordan Belfort: Okay, great. Well, the reason for the call today, John, is something just came across my desk, John. It is perhaps the best thing I’ve seen in the last six month. If you have sixty seconds I’d like to share the idea with you, you got a minute?
John: Actually, I’m really very busy…
Jordan Belfort: The name of the company, Aerotyne International, it is a cutting edge high tech firm out of the Midwest.
[we see a photo of the company, which is a shed at the back of a house]
Jordan Belfort: Awaiting imminent patent approval on the next generation of radar detectors that have both huge military and civilian applications.
[everybody in the office stops what they’re doing to listen to Jordan]
Jordan Belfort: Now, right now, John, the stock trades over the counter at ten cents a share. And by the way, John, our analyst indicate it could go a heck of a lot higher than that. Your profit, on a mere six thousand dollar investment would be upwards of sixty thousand dollars.
John: Jesus! That’s my mortgage, man.
Jordan Belfort: Exactly. You could pay off your mortgage.
John: This stock will pay off my house.
Jordan Belfort: John, one thing I can promise you, even in this market, is that I never ask my clients to judge me on my winners. I ask them to judge me on my losers, because I have so few. And in the case of Aerotyne, based on every technical factor out there, John, we are looking at a grand slam home run.
John: Okay, let’s do it. I’ll do four grand.
Jordan Belfort: Four thousand? That’d be forty thousand shares, John. Let me lock in that trade right now and get back to you with my secretary with an exact confirmation. Sound good, John?
John: Yeah, it sounds good.
Jordan Belfort: Great. Hey, John, thank you for your vote of confidence, and welcome to the Investor Center.
John: Yeah, thanks a lot, man. Thanks.
Jordan Belfort: Bye-bye.
[Jordan puts down the phone and everyone in the office stares at him in silence]
Toby Welch: How’d you fucking do that?
[they start clapping Jordan]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Just like that I made two grand. The other guys looked at me like I just discovered fire.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] I was selling garbage to garbage men, and making cash hand over fist.
[talking on the phone to another investor]
Jordan Belfort: The only problem you’re gonna have is that you didn’t buy more.
[Jordan slams down the phone]
Jordan Belfort: Boom shock!
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] So I was selling them shit.
[waving his buy ticket to the other men in the office]
Jordan Belfort: Way to go!
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] The way I looked at it, their money was better off in my pocket. I knew how to spend it better.
[we see Jordan’s new Jaguar parked outside a diner]
Donnie Azoff: Excuse me. It’s that your car in the lot?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah.
Donnie Azoff: That’s a nice ride.
Jordan Belfort: Thanks, man.
Donnie Azoff: Donnie Azoff.
[inside the diner Donnie extends his hand to Jordan]
Jordan Belfort: Hey, Jordan Belfort. Nice to meet you.
Donnie Azoff: How are you doing?
[they shake hands]
Jordan Belfort: Yeah.
Donnie Azoff: You know, actually, I see that car around. I see it around a lot.
Jordan Belfort: Oh, yeah. Where?
Donnie Azoff: Yeah, I think we live in the same building.
Jordan Belfort: No shit?
Donnie Azoff: Yeah, yeah. twelfth floor?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah. What floor are you on?
Donnie Azoff: Fourth floor. Yeah, I have two little kids.
Jordan Belfort: Right.
Donnie Azoff: Ugly wife.
[they both laugh]
Donnie Azoff: What you do, bro?
Jordan Belfort: What…what do you mean what do I do?
Donnie Azoff: For work, what do you do?
Jordan Belfort: I’m a stock broker.
Donnie Azoff: A stock broker?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah.
Donnie Azoff: Children’s furniture.
Jordan Belfort: Oh, good for you.
Donnie Azoff: It’s alright. You make a lot of money?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, I do alright for myself.
Donnie Azoff: I’m trying to put it together. You got your fucking nice car.
Jordan Belfort: Mm-hmm.
Donnie Azoff: We live in the same building. I’m just…I’m not understand… How much money do you make?
Jordan Belfort: I don’t know, seventy thousand last month.
[Donnie laughs]
Donnie Azoff: Get the fuck…! Get the fuck out of here.
Jordan Belfort: No, I’m serious.
Yeah, no, I’m serious too. Seriously, how much money do you make?
Jordan Belfort: Um…I told you, seventy thousand. Well, technically, seventy-two thousand last month. Something like that.
Donnie Azoff: You make seventy-two grand in a month?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah.
[Donnie looks at Jordan still not believing him]
Donnie Azoff: I tell you what. You show me a pay stub for seventy-two thousand dollars and I’ll quit my job right now and I work for you.
[Jordan gets his pay stub out of his briefcase and shows it to him; we then see Donnie outside the diner making a call to his boss, Jordan is sat beside him listening]
Donnie Azoff: Hey, Paulie. What’s up? No, yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine. Hey, listen, I quit.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] And he did quit his job. Which I thought was a little weird. I mean, I just met this fucking guy.
Donnie Azoff: Don’t tell fucking Susan, it’s not her business.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] There were other things about him too, like his phosphorescent white teeth.
[Jordan looks at Donnie as he continues his conversation on the phone]
Donnie Azoff: Your wife? I gotta fucking deal with you wife?
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] The fact that he wore horn rims with clear lenses just to look more Waspy. Then there were these rumors.
[Jordan and Donnie are sat in a bar having a drink]
Jordan Belfort: I heard some stupid shit. I don’t know, I don’t know. Look, I didn’t even wanna bring it up. It’s just…stupid.
Donnie Azoff: Is it to do with me?
Jordan Belfort: You know, people say shit. I don’t even know, I didn’t even listen to them half the time.
Donnie Azoff: What do they say?
Jordan Belfort: This stuff…shit about you and your cousin or something like that. I don’t even listen to it. It doesn’t even…
Donnie Azoff: No, it’s not like that. No, it’s not like that.
Jordan Belfort: No, I mean like, you married your cousin or some stupid shit. No?
Donnie Azoff: Yeah, my wife, yeah. My wife is my cousin or whatever, but it’s not like what you think, whatever. You know?
Jordan Belfort: Is she like, uh…your first cousin or is she…?
Donnie Azoff: Yeah, no. She…her…her father is the…is the brother of my mom.
Jordan Belfort: Mm-hmm.
Donnie Azoff: It’s not like, what…you know? Look, we grew up together, and she grew up hot, you know? She fucking grew up hot and all my friends were trying to fuck her, you know? And I…I was like I’m not gonna let someone, you know, one of these assholes fuck my cousin. So, you know, I use the cousin thing as like…like an in with her.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, yeah.
Donnie Azoff: I’m not gonna let someone else fuck my cousin, you know? If anyone’s gonna fuck my cousin it’s…it’s gonna be me, out of respect, you know?
Jordan Belfort: No, I get it. Yeah, yeah. I mean, you’re not afraid of like, the whole kid thing, right? Like the whole…
Donnie Azoff: What having kids with her?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah.
Donnie Azoff: No, we have two kids.
Jordan Belfort: And they’re…I mean, I don’t mean…I don’t wanna get personal, but are they, like, okay?
Donnie Azoff: No, they’re not retarded or anything like that.
Jordan Belfort: But there’s a big chance, right?
Donnie Azoff: Yeah, no.
Jordan Belfort: The whole…
Donnie Azoff: Yeah, there’s like a sixty percent, you know, sixty to sixty-five percent chance the kids gonna be fucking retarded or whatever.
Jordan Belfort: That would scare the shit out of me, buddy.
Donnie Azoff: Look, man, a lot can happen to having a kid, or whatever, takes risk whether you’re fucking cousins or not.
Jordan Belfort: What…what if you, I mean, what if something like that happened?
Donnie Azoff: I basically, you know, if the kid was retarded, I would…I would, you know, drive it up to the country and just like, you know, open the door and say, “You’re free now”, you know, like, run free. You know?
[Jordan looks at him for a moment before they both start laughing]
Donnie Azoff: I’m completely fucking with you, bro.
Jordan Belfort: That’s horrible. You’re not gonna do that?
Donnie Azoff: No. You looked like you fucking… No. We would take it to like an institution or somewhere that’s handled to like, you know, raise the kid or whatever.
Jordan Belfort: You know what? If you’re happy, God bless you, buddy.
Donnie Azoff: No, I’m not fucking happy. No one who’s married is fucking happy.
[they both laugh]
Jordan Belfort: Well, I’m sorry to hear that, buddy.
Donnie Azoff: Listen, I’m really, you know, I’m really appreciative of this fucking job. I’m really enjoying it.
Jordan Belfort: I’m really happy with what you’re doing.
Donnie Azoff: Actually, I, uh…I got you a present.
Jordan Belfort: You got me a present?
Donnie Azoff: I got you something, yeah.
Jordan Belfort: That’s fucking sweet.
Donnie Azoff: Yeah, it’s in back the back though.
Jordan Belfort: What you mean it’s…?
Donnie Azoff: You gotta go out back.
Jordan Belfort: Like it’s wrapped up or something?
Donnie Azoff: It’s wrapped up, yeah.
Jordan Belfort: I don’t get it.
Donnie Azoff: Neither do I, let’s fucking go. Come on.
[at the back of the bar Donnie smokes some crack]
Donnie Azoff: Your turn.
Jordan Belfort: I’m not fucking doing this! Are you out of your fucking mind?
Donnie Azoff: It’s good fucking shit, bro.
[Jordan hears something, looks around and gets up to leave]
Jordan Belfort: No!
Donnie Azoff: No one is fucking here, bro! Get the fuck back.
[he pulls Jordan back to sit next to him]
Donnie Azoff: Just fucking smoke crack with me, bro.
Jordan Belfort: I’m not fucking doing it.
Donnie Azoff: Fucking smoke crack. Smoke some fucking crack with me, bro.
Jordan Belfort: One hit. One hit, that’s it.
Donnie Azoff: Smoke.
[Jordan takes the crack from Donnie]
Donnie Azoff: Smoke. Smoke.
[Jordan lights it up and to takes a hit and instantly loves it]
Jordan Belfort: Wow! Wow!
[they both laugh]
Jordan Belfort: Let’s go, Don. We gotta get out of here, buddy. We gotta get out of here, let’s go fucking run! Let’s run like we’re fucking lions and tigers and bears! Let’s go! Let’s fucking run!
[Donnie gets up and starts running off]
Jordan Belfort: Let’s fucking run! Go!
[Jordan steps outside and starts running, following Donnie]
Jordan Belfort: Go! Go! Go! Go!
[Jordan and Donnie pull up outside an auto body shop, we then hear Jordan calling the shop and leaving a message]
Voice Message: You’ve reached Frank Best’s Auto Body. We’re closed right now, so please leave us a message.
Jordan Belfort: Hello, my name is Jordan Belfort. Uh, my partner and I are very interested in renting out your garage.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Donnie and I were going out on our own and the first thing we needed was brokers, guys with sales experience. So I recruited some of my home town boys. Sea Otter, who sold meat and weed. Chester, who sold tires and weed. And Robbie, who sold anything he could get his hands on, mostly weed.
[we see Jordan’s friends sat in a diner eating]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] This is Brad, and Brad’s the guy I really wanted, but he didn’t go along with us. He was already making so much money selling Quaaludes, he’d become the Quaalude King of Bayside.
[we see Brad selling Quaalude to some teenage boys from his back yard, he points to one of the boy’s crotch with his baseball bat]
Brad: You get any pussy with that thing or what?
Zip: Yeah, man. Of course, man.
Brad: Bring some of them chicks around here sometime, huh? Let ’em watch. Let ’em watch. Know what I mean?
[he flexes his arm muscle]
Brad: Hey, Zip? You tell your sister I was asking about her. Would you bring me a pair of her panties next time you come through.
Zip: Yeah, man, she said she didn’t want to talk to you anymore, man.
Brad: Get the fuck out of here.
[pauses for a moment then shouts]
Brad: Hey, Ma, we got chicken or what? Ma!
[back at the diner we see Jordan is sat with his friends]
Jordan Belfort: You listening? It’s easier than you think. Every person you’re on the phone with, they wanna get rich and they wanna get rich quickly. They all want something for nothing.
Sea Otter: There was this one time that I was selling a pot to this Amish dude. You know those guys, he got like the bear with like no mustache or some bullshit.
Robbie Feinberg: Yeah, yeah.
Sea Otter: Well he says that he only wants to make furniture.
Robbie Feinberg: I don’t understand.
Chester Ming: What’s that got to do with anything?
Jordan Belfort: What the fuck are you talking about?
Sea Otter: I’m not putting words in your mouth or nothing, but you just said that everybody wants to get rich.
Robbie Feinberg: Holy fuck, you did just say that.
Chester Ming: Yeah, you did just say that.
Jordan Belfort: What are you…what the fuck are you talking about?
Sea Otter: Yeah, like Buddhists. They don’t give a shit about money, they’re wrapped in sheets. They’re not buying shit.
Jordan Belfort: I’m not…I’m not talking about Buddhists or Amish, I’m talking about normal people. Working class, everyday people. Everyone wants to get rich. Am I crazy?
Chester Ming: There is no such thing as Amish Buddhist, I’m pretty fucking sure.
Jordan Belfort: No, I didn’t…
Robbie Feinberg: Yeah, there could be. There could be.
[to the passing waitress]
Brad: Could I get some ketchup, please.
Jordan Belfort: I didn’t say Amish Buddhist. Am I fuck…do you guys not wanna make money?
Robbie Feinberg: I wanna make some fucking money.
Sea Otter: No! I wanna make money.
Jordan Belfort: Do you guys wanna fucking make money?
Chester Ming: I wanna make some fucking money, okay? I could sell anything. Shit, I could sell lubes to a convent full of nuns and get ’em so horny they’d be fucking each other.
Jordan Belfort: That’s the attitude, you can sell anything? Sell me this fucking pen, right here. You can sell anything? Sell that, go ahead.
[he takes a pen from his jacket and offers it to Chester]
Jordan Belfort: Sell me that pen.
Chester Ming: Can I finish eating first? I haven’t eaten tonight.
Jordan Belfort: Brad, show ’em how it’s done.
[he offers the pen to Brad]
Jordan Belfort: Sell me that pen? Watch. Go on.
[Brad takes the pen from Jordan]
Brad: You want me to sell this fucking pen?
Jordan Belfort: That’s my boy right there.
Brad: This pen.
Jordan Belfort: Fucking sell anything.
Brad: I want you to do me a favor, write your name on that napkin for me.
Jordan Belfort: I don’t have a pen.
Brad: Exactly. Supplying and demand, my friend.
[he drops the pen in front of Jordan]
Jordan Belfort: See what I’m saying. He’s creating urgency by getting them to want to buy the stock. He gets them to think it’s something that they need. You know what I mean?
Sea Otter: That’s the thing. All nuns are lesbians.
Jordan Belfort: What the fuck are you talking about?!
Chester Ming: What are you talking about, Otter?
Robbie Feinberg: Yeah, I think that’s true. I think that’s right.
Sea Otter: Yeah, think about it. They can’t get dudes so they gotta start…
[suddenly Brad throws the empty bottle of ketchup to the floor in anger]
Brad: Four fucking times! Give me four times.
[finally the waitress comes to their table with the full bottle of ketchup]
[we see Jordan’s friends working for him now at the auto body shop]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Look, I knew these guys weren’t like Harvard MBA’s. Robbie Feinberg “The Pinhead” took five years to finish high school. Alden Kupferberg “The Sea Otter” didn’t even graduate. Chester Ming “The Depraved Chinaman” thought Jujitsu was in Israel. The smartest of the bunch was Nicky Koskoff, he actually went to law school. I called him “Rugrat” because of his piece of shit hair piece. Still, give them to me young, hungry and stupid, and in no time I’ll make ’em rich.
[Jordon gives Teresa a diamond bracelet]
Teresa Petrillo: Oh, my God. Jordan that…
Jordan Belfort: You like it, baby?
Teresa Petrillo: That’s…yeah, it’s beautiful.
Jordan Belfort: They’re not the biggest stones in the world, but I promise they’re really high quality.
Teresa Petrillo: No, it’s beautiful. They’re so beautiful.
Jordan Belfort: Oh, boy.
Teresa Petrillo: What?
Jordan Belfort: I know that look. What is it? Go ahead.
Teresa Petrillo: I don’t know. It’s, you know…these stocks, at these companies, they’re…they’re like crappy companies.
Jordan Belfort: Well, yeah.
Teresa Petrillo: Okay.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, they’re terrible.
[they both smile]
Jordan Belfort: Don’t worry about it. I told you, what I’m doing is completely legal.
Teresa Petrillo: Yeah, I know. But they’re…they’re like not gonna make any more money though, right?
Jordan Belfort: Well sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. You know how it goes.
Teresa Petrillo: Yeah, wouldn’t you feel better if you sold that stuff to rich people who can like afford to lose all that money?
Jordan Belfort: Of course. But rich people don’t buy penny stocks, they just don’t.
Teresa Petrillo: Why not?
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Because they’re too smart, that’s why not.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] I mean, what person with a collage education would trust this bunch of jerk-offs.
[we see Jordan’s friends making calls in the auto body shop that’s set up as their office]
Donnie Azoff: Hang up the phone and tell him you’ll call him back!
Nicky Koskoff: I got five fucking grand on the phone right now!
Donnie Azoff: Hey!
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] But what if they didn’t sound like a bunch of jerk-offs? What if I could teach them how to sell to the people with money? Real money. So I decided to reinvent the company.
[Jordan reveals their new company sign “Stratton Oakmont, Inc.” to his brokers]
Jordan Belfort: Gentleman, welcome to Stratton Oakmont. You schnooks will now be targeting the wealthiest one percent of Americans. I’m talking about whales here. Moby fucking Dicks. And with this script, which is now your new harpoon.
[he holds up the script]
Jordan Belfort: I’m gonna teach each and everyone of you to be Captain fucking Ahab. Get it? Huh?
Robbie Feinberg: Captain who?
Jordan Belfort: Captain Ahab, from the fucking…
Donnie Azoff: The book, you motherfucker.
Jordan Belfort: The book, you motherfucker! From the book!
Nicky Koskoff: Turn your fucking brain on!
Robbie Feinberg: Fuck you!
Jordan Belfort: Listen to me. We’re a new company with a new name. A company that our clients can believe in. A company that our clients can trust. A firm whose roots are so deeply embedded to Wall Street that our very founders sailed over on the Mayflower and chiseled the name Stratton Oakmont right into Plymouth fucking rock! You got it?
[his broker friends laugh]
Jordan Belfort: What we’re gonna do is this. First we pitch ’em Disney, AT&T, IBM, blue chips stocks exclusively. Companies these people know. Once we’ve suckered them in, we unload the dog shit, the pink sheets, the penny stocks, where we make the money. Fifty percent commission, baby. Now the key to making money in a situation like this is to position yourself now before the settlement. Because by the time you read about it in the Wall Street Journal, it’s already too late. Then you wait, you wait, and whoever speaks first loses.
[Jordan is on a call to a potential client to demonstrate to his brokers, who are all listening in]
Client: Sorry, uh…I-I appreciate the call. I really have to give this some thought and, uh…talk to my wife about it. Um…can I call you back?
back to Jordan training his brokers
Jordan Belfort: They don’t know, right? They gotta think about it, they gotta talk to their fucking wives, the fucking tooth fairy. The point is, it doesn’t matter what the fuck they say. The only real objection that they have is that they don’t trust you guys. And why should they trust you, I mean, looked at you. You’re bunch of fucking sleazy salesman, right?
[his broker friends laugh]
Jordan Belfort: So, what do you say?
[we see Jordan’s broker friends learning sell to potential clients on the phone using Jordan’s script]
Sea Otter: You mean, you’re telling me that if I put you in Union Carbide at seven and took you out at thirty-two…
Robbie Feinberg: Texas Instruments at eleven and took you out at forty-seven…
Jordan Belfort: You are still at sixteen, took you out at forty-one…
Chester Ming: You wouldn’t be saying to me right now, Chester, pick me up a few thousand shares of Disney on the spot, right now. Come on.
Jordan Belfort: I mean, honestly, Kevin, honestly, seriously?
Client: I…I don’t know you. You…you cold called me, you’re a total stranger.
Chester Ming: I’m in complete agreement with you. You don’t know me, I don’t know you.
Sea Otter: So let me take a moment to reintroduce myself to you. My name is Alden Kupferberg.
Robbie Feinberg: Robbie Feinberg.
Chester Ming: Chester Ming.
Sea Otter: I’m senior vice-president in Stratton Oakmont…
Chester Ming: And I plan being one of the…
Robbie Feinberg: Top brokers at my firm next year.
Sea Otter: And I’m not gonna get there by being wrong, Stanley.
[back to Jordan with his call to the potential client]
Client: I didn’t want to say that, you sound like, uh…you sound like a pretty sincere guy.
[Jordan’s friends laugh as they listen in, then it’s back to his friends following the script as they talk to clients on the phone]
Sea Otter: It’s not gonna make you rich and it’s not gonna make you poor. But what this trade will do is serve as a….
Jordan Belfort: ….benchmark for future business, Kevin.
Chester Ming: Do you feel comfortable with me now, Scot?
[back to Jordan talking to the potential client with his broker friends listening in behind him]
Jordan Belfort: And then you’ll know for sure that you finally found a broker on Wall Street that you can trust, and who can consistently make you money. Sound fair enough?
Jordan silently gives the client on the phone two fingers and mouths the words “Fuck you”
Client: Uh…yeah. You’re…I gotta say, I’m pretty impressed. What do you…? I don’t know, what do you think?
[as Jordan replies to the client he makes fun of the client by making sexual gestures which makes his friends laugh silently behind him]
Jordan Belfort: Kevin, you give me one shot here on a blue chips stock like Kodak. And believe me, Kevin, the only problem you’re gonna have, is that you didn’t buy more. Sound fair enough?
Client: Shit, well. Uh…my wife might divorce me, but yeah, let’s do it. Oh, yeah.
[Jordan makes another sexual gesture which makes his friends laugh]
Jordan Belfort: Excellent choice, Kevin. How much do you wanna go for this time?
Client: Let’s do five…five thousand dollars to start.
Jordan Belfort: Let’s try eight thousand dollars, Kevin.
Client: Alright, let’s do ten.
Jordan Belfort: Ten!
Client: Do you wanna do that?
Jordan Belfort: Excellent choice. Kevin, let me lock-in that trade right now and get back to you in a few minutes with an exact confirmation, Kevin. And welcome to Stratton Oakmont.
[Jordan gives the client two fingers again]
Client: Thanks, man. I’m gonna have a beer, alright. This was fun.
[Jordan’s friends are all laughing behind him]
Jordan Belfort: Take it easy, Kev.
Client: Hey, uh…thanks Jordan. Thanks a lot…
[Jordan cuts off the call]
Jordan Belfort: Fuck that motherfucker!
[they all laugh]
Jordan Belfort: What a fucking idiot!
[we see Stratton Oakmont move from the garage to respectful looking offices now full of brokers; talking to a potential clients on the phone]
Donnie Azoff: The one thing I know about in this world is airlines, and Kushan Airlines is the future of airlines. Get in now while it’s…
[both are following Jordan’s script]
Nicky Koskoff: My name is Nicky Koskoff
Chester Ming: Chester Ming…
Nicky and Chester: …and I’m a Senior Vice President with Stratton Oakmont.
Nicky Koskoff: Julie, I’m so, so, so sorry for your loss. When did he pass?
Sea Otter: Just say I’m wrong, right? And the stock goes down…
Kimmie Belzer: …in the words of my grandfather, God rest his soul, is a shit ton of money. And that’s not necessa…
Donnie Azoff: It’s like gettin’ in on fucking sunlight before there was fucking sunlight, do you understand?
[to Otter]
Client #1: Can we do eight thousand shares?
[to Robbie]
Client #2: Okay, twenty-five thousand…
[we see Robbie and Otter both silently celebrating; to his client]
Robbie Feinberg: That was a very intelligent decision, I’m gonna transfer you to my fields associate.
[calling out to his associate]
Robbie Feinberg: Rhonda! Rhonda!
Kimmie Belzer: I’m gonna put you through to Andrea.
Robbie Feinberg: Has anybody fucking seen Rhonda?
[the closing market bell rings and the whole office cheers]
[after the market bell rings Jordan addresses his brokers standing at front speaking into the microphone]
Jordan Belfort: Everybody have a good week?
[the brokers all cheer]
Jordan Belfort: End of the month, twenty-eight-point-seven million in gross commissions, all from pink sheet stock, boys!
[the brokers cheer and applaud]
Jordan Belfort: And to celebrate with our weekly act of debauchery, I have offered our lovely sales assistant, Danielle Harrison here, ten thousand dollars to shave her fucking head! Yeah!
[everyone cheers, we see one broker grab hold of Danielle’s hair]
Jordan Belfort: Do you want this? Do you want this?! Let’s get the party started! Let the scalping begin!
[Danielle’s hair is shaved off using clippers]
Jordan Belfort: Scalp! Scalp! Scalp! Scalp! Scalp! Scalp! Scalp! Scalp! Scalp!
[everybody cheers and chants as Danielle’s hair is shaved off]
Jordan Belfort: FYI, boys, Danielle’s promised to use this ten thousand dollars for breast implants. She’s already got C cups, but now she wants fucking double D! Is this a great fucking company or what? Is this the greatest company in the world?
[Danielle’s hair is continued to be shaved off as the whole office cheers on]
Jordan Belfort: Blow the roof off this motherfucker!
[the whole office explodes with applause and cheers then the marching band enters the office wearing only hats and underwear, then champagne is brought in for everyone]
Jordan Belfort: Strippers in please!
[strippers enter the office as everybody celebrates]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Word about us spread throughout Wall Street, even to places I didn’t wanted it to.
[we see the FBI, specifically Agent Patrick Denham gathering information about Jordan and his group of broker friends]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] It wasn’t long before Forbes Magazine, the flagship of Wall Street called to do a profile on me.
[we see Jordan being interviewed by a Forbes reporter]
Aliyah Farran: Let me ask you, how do you see the future for Stratton Oakmont?
Jordan Belfort: One word; diversification.
Aliyah Farran: Sounds good. Thank you so much. I have more than enough, I appreciate your time.
Jordan Belfort: Fantastic.
[they shake hands]
Aliyah Farran: Can we get a quick picture?
[Jordan poses for the picture shaking hands with the reporter and we see a photo appear with the headline “The Wolf of Wall Street”]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] A total fucking hatchet job.
[in their apartment Jordan shows the article to Teresa]
Jordan Belfort: This conniving little twat! Look at this. “The Wolf of Wall Street,” they call me. Look!
Teresa Petrillo: Your hair looks good.
Jordan Belfort: My hair looks good.
Teresa Petrillo: Yeah.
[reading from the article]
Jordan Belfort: Jordan Belfort, sounding like a kind of twisted Robin Hood, who takes from the rich and gives to himself and his merry little band of brokers. Read that, read it.
[he places the article in front of Teresa]
Teresa Petrillo: Listen, there is no such thing as bad publicity, sweetheart.
Jordan Belfort: Read the article, babe. Read it.
Teresa Petrillo: Jordan, you look great. You’re in a huge magazine.
Jordan Belfort: Big fucking deal! I look good…
[later as Jordan goes to work he’s met by a crowd of young men who all want him to look at their resume]
Jordan Belfort: What’s all this?
Janet: It’s the Forbes article, they all want to work for you now.
[one of the men jumps forward to approach Jordan]
Janet: Hey! What did I say?
Jordan Belfort: Guys. Guys, give me a minute.
[shouting at the group of men]
Janet: Hey! You want a job, you talk to me!
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Forbes made me a superstar. Everyday, dozens of money-crazed kids beat a path to my door. If we hired ’em, they dropped straight out of college overnight and spent whatever allowance they had on a new suit from our Stratton tailor.
[Jordan walks around the office watching his brokers getting measured up for suits]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] I mean we were literally putting clothes on these kids backs, and here comes this jerk off sniffing around.
[we see Patrick Denham sat in his office reading the Forbes article on Jordan]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] But you know, every time someone rises up in this world there’s always gonna be some asshole trying to drag him down. Within months we doubled in size, moved to even bigger offices. It was a mad house. A greed fest, with equal parts cocaine, testosterone and body fluids.
[we see the debauched action of the brokers in the office, two brokers snort cocaine in a toilet stall, then we see another two brokers have sex perched on the bathroom sink]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] It got so bad, I had to declare the office a fuck free zone between the hours of nine and seven. But I’m telling you, even that didn’t help.
[a group of brokers cheer as they watch another broker getting a blowjob in a glass elevator]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Actually the madness started on our very first day, when one of our brokers Ben Jenner, Christened the elevator by getting a blowjob from a sales assistant. Her name was Pam and to her credit, she did have this amazing technique with this wild, twist and jerk motion. About a month later, Donnie and I decided to double team on a Saturday afternoon while our wives were out shopping for Christmas dresses.
[we see as Pam gives Jordan a blowjob, Donnie is having sex with her from behind]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Eventually Ben married her, which was pretty amazing considering she blew every single guy in the office.
[we see wedding photos of Ben and Pam]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Then he got depressed and killed himself three years later.
[we see a photo of Ben’s arm sticking out of the bathtub filled with blood where he’d killed himself]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Anyway, I hired my Dad, Max to maintain order as The Enforcer. Stratton’s very own Gestapo. We called him Mad Max because of his hair trigger temper, which could be set off by something as innocuous as a ringing telephone.
[we see Jordan’s dad sat watching “The Equalizer” on TV with his wife when the phone rings]
Max Belfort: Who the fuck has the Goddamn gall to call this house on a Tuesday night? Goddamn it!
[reluctantly Max gets up to answer the phone]
Leah Belfort: You’re gonna missed it!
Max Belfort: Oh, please, tell me something I don’t know! I wait all week for The fucking Equalizer and they have to fucking…!
[he picks up the phone and answers in a very polite voice]
Max Belfort: Hello?
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] But as soon as he picked up the phone…
Max Belfort: Jean? How are you, Jean?
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] He’d effect this weird British accent.
Max Belfort: Righto, Jean. That’d be great. Cheerio.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] It was absolutely bizarre.
[as soon as Max ends the call he starts yelling in his normal American accent]
Max Belfort: Fucking halfwit!
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] He’d hang up and then he’s Mad Max all over again.
Leah Belfort: You missed it!
Max Belfort: Damn it!
[Max goes back to his seat]
Max Belfort: Right, tell me what happened? What happened?
Leah Belfort: Well, he discovered it was the mother’s sister.
Max Belfort: Who’s he? Who? Tell me who he is?
Leah Belfort: The main guy! You know who the main guy…
Max Belfort: The main guy…
Leah Belfort: It was his mother’s sister, she showed up dead.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Of course, Mad Max didn’t have to know everything we were doing at Stratton.
[Jordan holds up a headshot of a Dwarf]
Jordan Belfort: And then there’s a big target and we…they get launched at the target, they stick.
Nicky Koskoff: There’s a bullseye and the bullseye is a dollar sign. Whoever gets closer to the dollar sign gets the most points.
Jordan Belfort: I’m gonna throw the shit out of this little fucking thing.
Robbie Feinberg: Yeah, you should fucking toss him.
Jordan Belfort: So, if he gets hurt, what happens? Cause we’re gonna go fucking nuts.
Robbie Feinberg: I don’t think he’s gonna get hurt, they’re like…they got like super human strength. I think he’s gonna be fine.
Donnie Azoff: You can’t look him, uh…right in the eyes either.
Jordan Belfort: You can’t look him at in the eye?
Donnie Azoff: No.
Nicky Koskoff: That’s a fact, I saw it on PBS.
Donnie Azoff: They get confused and their wires get crossed. You gotta look like, at the chin, like it looks like I’m looking at you, but I’m looking at your chin.
Nicky Koskoff: Yeah. I feel like you addressing me right now, but you’re not, are you?
Donnie Azoff: They’re like the Mona Lisa. The…they find eye contact, like where ever you’re standing in the room, and then they lock it, you know.
Jordan Belfort: Okay. Okay. No, but there is a limit to what we could do with them. I mean, we’re allowed to throw shit at ’em.
Nicky Koskoff: Yes.
Jordan Belfort: We’re allowed to throw food, bananas…
Nicky Koskoff: Any food. Crackers.
Jordan Belfort: But, for example, what I wouldn’t do is maybe like tell him to pull his cock out, and like to get some of the girls to, you know? Fondle them and shit like that. I mean, that would be…that’s unacceptable.
Robbie Feinberg: I mean, let’s keep that in our back pocket. But this guy is more about throwin’…throwin’ at the dartboard?
Nicky Koskoff: Correct. Yes, yes, yes.
Nicky Koskoff: The thing is, this is their gift, okay? They’re built to be thrown like a long dart. They’re top heavy like a long dart, so they’re built for accuracy.
Robbie Feinberg: Oh, my God. This is…can we bowl with this guy?
Nicky Koskoff: That’s his fucking brother, Robbie. He brother’s the bowling ball.
Robbie Feinberg: The…the brother, you put a skateboard on him, you strap him to a skateboard, you toss him down on alley at some pins.
Jordan Belfort: No, shit. That’s interesting.
Robbie Feinberg: Swear to fucking God. Can we get that guy?
Jordan Belfort: Can we get him? Can we get him too?
Nicky Koskoff: We can get…we’ll get that guy too. But it says here, this guy will show his cock. Yeah, instead of growing up.
Jordan Belfort: He will?
Nicky Koskoff: Yeah. They are very ornery, by the way, so you gotta be very careful with these little guys. Safety first.
Jordan Belfort: Safety is first, alright? I want somebody with a fucking tranquilizer gun, ready to knock this fucker out.
Nicky Koskoff: Yes.
Robbie Feinberg: Do we wanna get like a…
Jordan Belfort: Mace tasers gun.
Robbie Feinberg: Like a pellet gun maybe? Just like to ding him.
Jordan Belfort: No, pellet gun is gonna hurt him. I just want him out, knocked out cold.
Robbie Feinberg: Yeah, okay.
Nicky Koskoff: I say we stick with the loophole, right? Okay? If we don’t considered him a human, we just consider it an act, I think we’re in the clear, like The Flying Wallendas? You know, a lot of those guys died, but they never sued anybody.
Donnie Azoff: The important thing you guys gotta keep in mind is…is that these things gossip, they get together and they gossip.
Jordan Belfort: It’s a good point.
Donnie Azoff: And the last thing that we need is them getting together and saying “Oh, listen, they made fun of us.” Like, it’s gonna make Stratton look bad. That to me…
Jordan Belfort: That’s…that’s why I love you. You think of shit like that.
Donnie Azoff: Well, that is…
Jordan Belfort: They come in, we treat it just like one of us, okay?
Nicky Koskoff: That’s…that’s…
[Jordan starts chanting]
Jordan Belfort: One of us, gooble, gobble, one of us.
[the others join in the chanting]
Jordan, Donnie, Nicky, Robbie: We accept them they’re one of us! Gooble, gobble, one of us! We accept them they’re one of us. Gooble, gobble, one of us!
[Janet opens the door to the meeting room and yells]
Janet: Jordan!
[they stop chanting and Jordan turns to her]
Janet: Your Dad’s coming. Something about the American Express bill?
Jordan Belfort: Hey, can…can you get him out of here? I’m not…
Janet: Yeah, lick my twat.
[Janet closes the door and walks off]
Jordan Belfort: No, I’m serious! Get…
[noticing his father coming towards the meeting]
Jordan Belfort: Fuck! Okay, guys, act like we’re working on stuff.
Nicky Koskoff: You got any fucking stock forms?
[Jordan sees Max stomping towards them and they all straighten up]
Jordan Belfort: Okay, he’s coming, he’s coming. Make some shit up.
[as Max opens the door they pretend to be holding a serious meeting]
Nicky Koskoff: So I think we’ll be short visor…
Four hundred and thirty thousand dollars in one month, Jordy?! Huh? Four hundred and fucking thirty thousand fucking dollars in one fucking month!
Jordan Belfort: Good morning. They’re business expenses, relax!
Max Belfort: Business expenses?
Jordan Belfort: Yes.
Max Belfort: Jordy, look what you got here!
Jordan Belfort: What?
[he holds out the piece of paper]
Max Belfort: Look at this! Twenty-six thousand dollars for one fucking dinner!
Jordan Belfort: Okay. No. No, no. This could be explained. Dad, we had a client, we had Visa…
Nicky Koskoff: Visa client.
Jordan Belfort: The Visa client.
Nicky Koskoff: Right, the Porter House from Argentina.
Jordan Belfort: The expensive champagne and the wine.
[to Max]
Jordan Belfort: We had to buy champagne and…
[to Donnie]
Jordan Belfort: And you ordered all the fucking sides. Tell him about the sides you ordered.
Donnie Azoff: I ordered sides, sir.
Max Belfort: Sides?
Donnie Azoff: Yeah.
Max Belfort: Sides? Twenty-six thousand dollars worth of sides?! What are these sides? Do they cure cancer?
Donnie Azoff: The sides did cure cancer, that’s the problem. They were…that’s why they were expensive.
[Jordan laughs]
Jordan Belfort: Shut the fuck up!
Donnie Azoff: I’m serious…I know.
Jordan Belfort: Stop!
Max Belfort: An EJ Entertainment. What the fuck is EJ Entertainment?
[Donnie, Nicky and Robbie burst out laughing]
Jordan Belfort: Well, that’s, uh…
Donnie Azoff: Yeah, Jordan, what’s EJ entertainment?
Jordan Belfort: How do I describe this?
Donnie Azoff: Jord, what is that?
Max Belfort: It’s a fucking prostitution ring, Jordy!
Jordan Belfort: I know.
Max Belfort: That’s what it is!
Jordan Belfort: That’s…that’s…that is what it is.
Max Belfort: Isn’t that the perfect description for it?
Jordan Belfort: That is what it is, but none of these were charged to me. This is all of them and I have nothing to do with it.
Donnie Azoff: Oh, that was all of us?
Jordan Belfort: It wasn’t me though. Fucking explain this shit to him! These are all of your fucking charges, right here!
Donnie Azoff: You guys, the IRS, they allow for T and A, it’s fine.
Max Belfort: T and E. T and E.
Donnie Azoff: Yeah, I said T and E.
Max Belfort: No, no. You said T and A.
Donnie Azoff: No, I didn’t.
Max Belfort: Yeah, you did. You did.
Donnie Azoff: When did I say that?
Max Belfort: You said T and A. It’s T and E, alright?
Donnie Azoff: I know you’re upset about the dinner and that make sense because we did spend too much money, but I said T and E.
Max Belfort: Don’t tell me what you said, I heard what you said! I…
Jordan Belfort: Dad, he said T and A.
Max Belfort: He did. He said T and A.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, absolutely, no question. I heard it.
Donnie Azoff: Look, I’m trying too…
Max Belfort: I’m getting this close.
Jordan Belfort: I’m fucking sweating.
Max Belfort: I’m getting this close.
Jordan Belfort: Dad, relax!
Max Belfort: I’m getting this close!
Donnie Azoff: That’s what I’m saying! I want you to open up more, Max?
Jordan Belfort: He’s gonna fucking kill you.
Donnie Azoff: Why do you hold it in?
Max Belfort: What do you…
Donnie Azoff: Max. Max, why do you hold it in?
Max Belfort: That’s it. That’s it! Get the fuck out!
[as Max goes to grab Jordan the others stop him]
Donnie Azoff: No, no, no, no! Hold on!
Jordan Belfort: Get out asshole!
[as Jordan, Robbie and Nicky go to take Donnie out of the office, Max looks at the bill again]
Max Belfort: What kind of hooker takes credit cards?
Donnie Azoff: A rich one!
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] At Stratton, there were three kinds of hookers; the blue chips, top of the line, model material. They cost between three and five hundred and you had to wear a condom unless you gave them a hefty tip, which of course I always did. Then came the NASDAQs, who are pretty, not great. They cost between two and three hundred bucks. Finally, there were the pink sheets skanks. They cost about a hundred or less, and if you didn’t wear a condom, you’d have to get a penicillin shot the next day and pray your dick didn’t fall off. Not that we didn’t fuck them too. Believe me, we did.
[back in Jordan’s office, as he goes to sit he winces in pain]
Jordan Belfort: Ow! It’s that slipped disc thing again.
Max Belfort: I know what it is, you know too much, uh…
[he pumps his fist indicating Jordan’s having too much sex]
Max Belfort: …with EJ Entertainment.
[Jordan laughs]
Jordan Belfort: Pops.
Max Belfort: How are things at home?
Jordan Belfort: Well, not the best. She just doesn’t…you know what I’m saying? It’s like this smell, there’s a smell, there’s attraction thing and after a while it just kind of fades away a little bit.
Max Belfort: Yeah, well it’s supposed to fade away.
Jordan Belfort: Supposed to?
Max Belfort: That’s marriage, you know?
Jordan Belfort: That’s, uh…
Max Belfort: Your mother and I, we’ve been married a long long time.
Jordan Belfort: I know.
Max Belfort: What do you think? We’re, we’re, we’re jumpin’ into bed every two minutes? It doesn’t work that way.
Jordan Belfort: I don’t want…I love her to death. I wanna stay married, Dad, but, uh…
[whispering]
Jordan Belfort: It’s crazy out there. Some of these girls, you should see them. Oh, my God. They’re fucking…the things they’re doing now, Pops. I mean…I mean, it’s on a whole other level.
Max Belfort: Really?
Jordan Belfort: And they’re all shaved too.
Max Belfort: Get outta here!
Jordan Belfort: They’re all shaving now.
Max Belfort: Are you kidding me? No bush?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah. Bald…bald as a China doll.
Max Belfort: No bush?
Jordan Belfort: No bush.
Max Belfort: Oh, my God.
Jordan Belfort: I know. All of a sudden like, one week, nobody had anything down there anymore.
Max Belfort: It’s a new world.
Jordan Belfort: They’re bald…they’re bald from their eyebrows down.
Max Belfort: Wow.
Jordan Belfort: Nothing, not a stitch. It’s like lasers. Like lasers.
Max Belfort: Wow. A new world. See? I was born too, uh…too early.
Jordan Belfort: I’ve never been a fan of the bush to be honest.
Max Belfort: Really?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah.
Max Belfort: I don’t mind it.
Jordan Belfort: But, Dad, I don’t want you stressin’ out about any of this.
Max Belfort: How can I not get stressed out? Look at the knuckle heads you got working for you.
Jordan Belfort: I know they’re knuckle heads, but I need them to want to live like me, you get it? To live like me.
Max Belfort: Jordy, you know, one of these days, the chickens are gonna come home to roost.
Jordan Belfort: You’re looking at me like I’m crazy.
Max Belfort: Crazy? This is obscene.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] It was obscene, in the normal world. I mean, who the fuck wanted to live there?
[at his beach house Jordon has thrown a massive party, he’s standing on a balcony above the pool making an announcement to the crowd below]
Jordan Belfort: We got planes up here, that’s gonna take this company into the fucking stratosphere!
[the crowd cheers]
[later inside the house, Jordan is in the pool room with his friends, Jordan is throwing billiard balls into filled glasses of drinks]
Jordan Belfort: Fuck Merrill Lynch, fuck them! Why should they be taking all of our fucking money all the fucking time? That’s way we become the underwriters.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] It was our next big move, finding companies to take public, IPO’s. It was the only way these Wall Street pricks would ever stop thinking of us as some “shit kick a bucket shot.”
Robbie Feinberg: We’ve got Arncliffe International…
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] See, we were a little different. We like to get as fucked up as possible during our business pow-wows in order to stimulate our free flowing ideas.
[Jordan pops a Quaalude into his mouth to get high]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Which is why we were popping these ludes like they were M&M’s.
[we see Donnie sat on the couch behind Jordan, half asleep when he suddenly wakes and mumbles]
Donnie Azoff: Steve Madden…
[he raises his hand which knocks the glass off from top of the couch, breaking it, interrupting Jordan as he speaks to the others]
Jordan Belfort: We own the fucking company…
[Jordan looks back as he hears the glass breaking but quickly turns to the others to carry on]
Jordan Belfort: We own the company…
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Don’t know what a lude is? I’ll tell you. Uh, wait! Wait, wait, wait, wait. Looks like those ludes are working their magic on Donnie, right now.
[Donnie rises from the couch and slowly goes over to Jordan in slow motion]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] The Quaalude, or lude, as it is commonly referred to, was first synthesized in 1951 by an Indian doctor, that’s dots, not feathers, as a sedative and was prescribed to stressed out housewives with sleep disorders. But pretty soon someone figured out that if you resisted the urge to sleep for just fifteen minutes, you got a pretty kick-ass high from it. Didn’t take long for people to start abusing ludes of course. And in 1982 the U.S. Government Schedule one’d them, along with the rest of the world. Which meant there was only a finite amount of these things left. No shit, you can’t even buy ’em anymore. You people are all shit out of luck.
[back to the pool room with Jordon and his friends; to Donnie, who is completely high]
Jordan Belfort: What is it?
[very slowly]
Donnie Azoff: Steve Madden.
[Jordon and his friends laugh at Donnie, Jordon makes fun of him]
Jordan Belfort: Steve Madden.
Donnie Azoff: Steve.
Jordan Belfort: Steve.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Do you remember those ads? Those giant headed girls with the bug eyes, wearing those big clunky shoes?
[Donnie tries to explain something to Jordan while he’s high]
Donnie Azoff: My friend from school, Steve Madden.
[Jordan mocks him]
Jordan Belfort: His friend from school, Steve Madden.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Steve Madden was the name in women’s shoes at the moment and all of Wall Street was begging to take his company public.
[Jordan rubs Donnie shoulders]
Jordan Belfort: Go ahead, go ahead. What is it?
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Except, guess who grew up with them?
Donnie Azoff: Women’s shoes!
Jordan Belfort: Women’s shoes.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] My very own Vice President.
Donnie Azoff: Women’s shoes!
[Donnie smacks his shoe, that he’d taken off earlier, onto the pool table, Jordan and his friends all laugh at him]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Diamond Donnie Azoff.
Donnie Azoff: Madden…Steve.
Jordan Belfort: Steve. Steve.
Sea Otter: Hey, JB, JB, JB, JB, JB. You better come check this fucking chic out.
[Otter takes him to the edge of the balcony]
Sea Otter: Look at this. Look, look.
[they all peer down the balcony and notice Naomi for the first time]
Sea Otter: I would fuck that girl if she was my sister.
Robbie Feinberg: I would let that girl give me fucking aids.
Jordan Belfort: You wanna see the wolf handle this, huh?
[Jordan goes down to talk to Naomi as the others cheer him on, Donnie, who’ still high, peers at Naomi from the balcony]
Donnie Azoff: She’s hot.
[down at the party, Jordan calls to the woman that came in with Naomi]
Jordan Belfort: Cristy.
[Cristy takes Jordan to Naomi]
Cristy: Jordan, this is my friend, Naomi.
Naomi Lapaglia: Hi.
[they shake hands]
Jordan Belfort: Naomi.
Naomi Lapaglia: Nice to meet you.
Jordan Belfort: Naomi, nice to meet you.
Naomi Lapaglia: Nice to meet you. You’ve got an awesome place here. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house this big before.
Jordan Belfort: Oh, really?
Naomi Lapaglia: Yeah.
Jordan Belfort: There’s a beautiful beach out there, I could take you there.
[Naomi’s date interrupts them]
Blair Hollingsworth: Blair Hollingsworth.
Jordan Belfort: Hi, Blair. Nice to meet you.
[Jordan shakes hands with him]
Jordan Belfort: Your name’s Blair, right?
Blair Hollingsworth: Yeah.
[to Naomi]
Jordan Belfort: You like to jet-ski?
Naomi Lapaglia: I’ve never done it before.
Jordan Belfort: You never jet-skied in your life?
Naomi Lapaglia: No, I’ve never on jet-skied.
Jordan Belfort: You’ve never been on a jet-ski?
Naomi Lapaglia: No, I haven’t.
Blair Hollingsworth: How many times you gonna ask her? She’s never been on a jet-ski.
Jordan Belfort: I don’t know, I might ask her a couple more times.
Naomi Lapaglia: Okay.
[Naomi laughs]
[Donnie’s wife, Hildy, interrupts Jordan as he flirts with Naomi]
Hildy Azoff: Hi, I’m Hildy. Nice to meet you.
Naomi Lapaglia: Hi.
Hildy Azoff: Jordan, Teresa needs your help.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, I’ll be out in couple of minutes. Just tell her I’ll be out in a couple of minutes.
Hildy Azoff: Why don’t you tell your wife that?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, I might do that, but I’m having a conversation here.
Hildy Azoff: What am I, your secretary?
Jordan Belfort: No, you’re not my secretary. Let me just finish my conversation.
[to Naomi]
Blair Hollingsworth: You know what? I think we should…I think we should get going.
Jordan Belfort: Wait, wait. Where are you guys going?
Blair Hollingsworth: We gotta go, we got two other parties we’re supposed to get to.
Jordan Belfort: No, no, no.
Naomi Lapaglia: We can stay for a drink.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, stay for a drink.
[to Naomi]
Jordan Belfort: You like champagne?
Blair Hollingsworth: No, we got two other parties we’re supposed to get to, so.
Naomi Lapaglia: Well, we can stay for a drink.
Jordan Belfort: Why don’t you let her stay for a little bit?
Blair Hollingsworth: We got two other parties to get to.
Jordan Belfort: Let her stay for a little bit, what’s the big deal?
[as Jordan, Naomi and Blair are talking we see Donnie standing a little behind them, with his cock in his hand, jerking off to Naomi]
Donnie Azoff: She’s perfect.
[to Naomi]
Jordan Belfort: You like champagne?
Naomi Lapaglia: I do.
Jordan Belfort: Let me…
[suddenly Hildy notices Donnie jerking off]
Hildy Azoff: Donnie, what the fuck are you doing?! You piece of shit!
[she starts hitting him and Donnie falls to the floor, everyone starts laughing, Blair takes Naomi’s hand and the go to leave]
Jordan Belfort: You’re gonna have to excuse my friend. He gets…
[pushing Donnie as he gets up]
Hildy Azoff: Get the fuck out of here!
[referring to Naomi]
Donnie Azoff: Jordan, you gotta fuck her, she’s so fucking hot!
[Hildy pushes him out of the room]
Nicky Koskoff: Let him fucking finish, Hildy, that’s fucking rude.
[Naomi glances back at Jordan before she leaves the party]
[Jordan has taken Naomi out for dinner]
Jordan Belfort: So Bay Ridge. That’s near Staten Island, right?
Naomi Lapaglia: Brooklyn, across the Verrazano Bridge.
Jordan Belfort: Staten Island, the fever territory.
Naomi Lapaglia: That’s right. Guinea gulch. We call the Verrazano Bridge, the Guinea Gangplank.
Jordan Belfort: Right. So I presume you’re Italian?
Naomi Lapaglia: On my Dad’s side. I’m also Dutch, German, English. I’m a mutt.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, you’re a mutt.
Naomi Lapaglia: Yeah, I still have family over there though, in London. My Aunt Emma, she’s the best. Very British, you know? She’s a classy lady.
Jordan Belfort: That explains it then.
Naomi Lapaglia: Explains what?
Jordan Belfort: Explains you. I mean, you’re Duchess, right? You’re the Duchess of Bay Ridge.
[Jordan smiles]
[Naomi flags a nearby waiter]
Naomi Lapaglia: Excuse me. Could I get a straw, please? Thank you.
[there’s a moment’s pause as the waiter gives her the straw]
Naomi Lapaglia: So, I was, um…a little surprised you asked Cristy for my number.
Jordan Belfort: Why is that?
Naomi Lapaglia: Aren’t you married?
Jordan Belfort: Well, yeah, but what? Married people can’t have friends?
Naomi Lapaglia: We’re gonna be friends?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah. You don’t wanna be my friend?
[she puts the straw into her wine glass and smiles at Jordan]
Naomi Lapaglia: We’re not gonna be friends.
[as Jordan drives them in his Ferrari towards Naomi’s apartment]
Naomi Lapaglia: And at night I work on my designs. I have an entire line of lingerie, you know, camisoles, bustiers, panties.
[Jordan glances down at her legs as she’s sat next to him]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] She designs women’s panties too? Oh, my God!
[he pulls up outsider her apartment and they sit in awkward silence for a moment]
Come on, Jordan, think of a way to get up to her apartment.
Naomi Lapaglia: You wanna come up for some tea or somethin’?
Jordan Belfort: Tea? Yeah. Like hot tea?
Naomi Lapaglia: Yeah.
Jordan Belfort: Oh, yeah. It sounds nice, yeah.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Tea? Fuck, yeah, I wanted to come up for tea.
[Naomi leads the way to her apartment]
Jordan Belfort: Like Darjeeling, rose hips, or something nice like that?
Naomi Lapaglia: Sure.
[as they enter her apartment, Naomi’s picks up her small dog]
Naomi Lapaglia: This is Rocky.
[Rocky barks as she shows him to Jordan]
Naomi Lapaglia: Who’s this? Oh, who’s this? Say hi, Rocky.
Jordan Belfort: Hi, sweetheart.
[as Jordan extends his finger to touch Rocky, the Rocky yaps at him]
Jordan Belfort: Okay.
Naomi Lapaglia: Well, um…why don’t you light a fire or something and I’ll be right out.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah. Fire here?
Naomi Lapaglia: Sure.
[Naomi walks towards her room and Jordan walks over to the fireplace and notices the painting on the wall]
Jordan Belfort: I like your painting here. It’s, uh…
[Naomi enters her room and closes the sliding doors]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] God, help me. How do I fuck this girl?
[as Jordan tries to light a fire he drops something]
Naomi Lapaglia: You alright?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, yeah. Just trying to light this fire here.
[suddenly his pager beeps, he gets it out from his pocket and checks the message which reads “Call home – Teresa”]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] That’s it, that’s it. You’re leaving, don’t get involved, go home to your wife.
[just then Naomi steps out of her room completely naked except for her stockings and high heels]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] As you can probably guess, well I fucked her Goddamn brains out!
[we see Jordan’s legs as he pounds Naomi on her bed]
Jordan Belfort: Oh, Jesus Lord!
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] For eleven seconds.
[Jordan rolls off Naomi]
Naomi Lapaglia: Did you just cum?
Jordan Belfort: Oh, yeah, I just came. Did you? Did you cum?
Naomi Lapaglia: No.
Jordan Belfort: No? Okay. I’m still hard, so just give me a sec, I’ll…
Naomi Lapaglia: Sure.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah.
[as he tries to keep himself hard]
Jordan Belfort: Come on, baby. Come on, come on.
[Rocky, who’s sat at on the floor by the bed starts barking]
Jordan Belfort: Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah.
[Naomi starts kissing him and Jordan rolls on top of her again, as he starts to have sex with her he suddenly stops as he feels Rocky touching his leg]
Jordan Belfort: Oh, God!
Naomi Lapaglia: Fuck off, Rocky! Bad dog!
Jordan Belfort: Don’t you have biscuits or something like that?
Naomi Lapaglia: It’s okay.
Jordan Belfort: Come on.
Naomi Lapaglia: Just keep going.
Jordan Belfort: Rocky, go play. Go play, Rocky. Go, go, go…
[Jordan resumes having sex with Naomi and Rocky begins barking again]
[Naomi is on the phone to Jordan flirting as they continue their affair]
Naomi Lapaglia: You’re crazy.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] I couldn’t get enough, I mean her pussy was like heroin to me. And it wasn’t just about the sex either, Naomi and I got along. I mean we…we had similar interests and shit.
[we see Jordan playfully doing coke from Naomi’s breasts at the back of his limo, as the limo comes to a stop outside his apartment Teresa opens the door and catches them in the act]
Teresa Petrillo: You! Get out of the fucking car!
[she drags Jordan out of the limo]
Jordan Belfort: Okay, okay, okay. Jesus Christ!
Teresa Petrillo: You son of a bitch! Fuck!
[she slams the limo door shut and the limo takes off with Naomi still in the back]
Jordan Belfort: Just relax, sweetheart. Relax.
[Teresa starts hitting him]
Teresa Petrillo: Son of a fucking bitch! Jesus!
Jordan Belfort: Okay, okay, okay! Okay, babe, stop now! Please!
Teresa Petrillo: Bitch!
Jordan Belfort: Sweetheart, what are you doing? I thought you were…
Teresa Petrillo: With that whore from that party?!
[she slaps him hard in the face]
Jordan Belfort: Jesus Christ!
[she slaps him again]
Teresa Petrillo: What the fuck is wrong with you?!
Jordan Belfort: I thought you were at the fucking beach!
Teresa Petrillo: Who the fuck are you?!
Jordan Belfort: I didn’t know you were here!
Teresa Petrillo: That’s where you’ve fucking been?!
Jordan Belfort: Sweetheart…
Teresa Petrillo: With that fucking whore from the party?!
Jordan Belfort: What are you doing here? I thought you were the beech house!
[Teresa bursts into tears]
Teresa Petrillo: How could you do this to me?
Jordan Belfort: Sweetie, come on.
Teresa Petrillo: Who the fuck are you, Jordan?!
Jordan Belfort: Listen to me…
Teresa Petrillo: You’re like a completely different fucking person!
Jordan Belfort: I…I made a mistake. I don’t know what to tell you, babe. I…I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
Teresa Petrillo: Is that who…is that what you want?
[Jordan doesn’t reply]
Teresa Petrillo: Do you love her?
[again Jordan doesn’t reply]
Teresa Petrillo: Answer me.
[he doesn’t reply but from the look on his face it’s obvious that he does, Teresa burst into tears again]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] I felt horrible. Three days later I filed for a divorce and moved Naomi into the apartment.
[after Naomi moves into Jordan’s apartment, we see them having dinner and being served by a butler]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Say what you will, but the Duchess did have style. She brought in an decorator, Feng Shui’d the whole place, she even hired a gay butler. This guy was smart, sophisticated, professional, I mean, really, really great.
[Nicholas the butler hands them hot towels to wipe their hands with, Jordan sniffs the towel]
Jordan Belfort: Is that Jasmine?
Nicholas the Butler: Yes, Sir. I try to stump you this evening. Very good. Very good. Great nose.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Except for that one time.
[we see Naomi comes home one night to find that Nicholas is holding a gay orgy in the apartment]
Naomi Lapaglia: Oh, my God!
Nicholas the Butler: Oh, hey. Is it Wednesday already?
[looking awkwardly around the room]
Nicholas the Butler: Uh…what the fuck? That is fucked up!
[later Jordan tries to calm down a shaken Naomi]
Naomi Lapaglia: He must have thought we were still at the Hamptons this weekend, you know?
Jordan Belfort: Where were they doing it, sweetheart? In the bedroom?
Naomi Lapaglia: They were everywhere! There were two guys over there on the table, there were more over here. There were four right here.
[Jordan suddenly jumps off the couch]
Jordan Belfort: Oh, God! Are you fucking serious? Right there? Why didn’t you tell me, sweetie? God!
Naomi Lapaglia: Baby, there’s worse. After they left they checked the apartment.
Jordan Belfort: Right, what? What is it, babe? What?
[Naomi just cries]
[the next day we see Jordan talking to Nicholas with Donnie, Chester and Toby also in the room]
Jordan Belfort: Where’s my money?
Nicholas the Butler: I don’t know where your money is.
Jordan Belfort: Where’s my fucking money? Where is it?
Nicholas the Butler: I don’t know where your money is, Mr. Belfort, I didn’t do anything.
Jordan Belfort: You don’t know where my money is?
Donnie Azoff: He’s lying, Jordan. He’s lying through his fucking teeth.
Jordan Belfort: Let’s start from the beginning. Let’s start from the beginning, right? You invited some friends over, right?
Nicholas the Butler: Yes.
Jordan Belfort: One thing led to another, things got out of hand. We understand that, we do…we do blow all the time. We’re fucking degenerates ourselves, look at us, right? But money was stolen from my apartment, right from my sock drawer. Alright?
Nicholas the Butler: Like I said, I don’t know where your money is.
Jordan Belfort: Just start from the beginning, who came over?
Nicholas the Butler: It was just a normal day, I knew you were coming home the next day, so everything would be fine, it would be cleaned up.
Jordan Belfort: Mm-hmm.
Nicholas the Butler: I got a little high at breakfast.
Jordan Belfort: Right.
Nicholas the Butler: So I got a little happy, I had some eggs, I had a little bit if ice cream. And then I said, who do I know that likes ice cream? My friend Rudy, so I called Rudy…
Jordan Belfort: Who’s Rudy?
Donnie Azoff: Who’s Rudy?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, who’s Rudy? Who’s Rudy?
[to Donnie]
Nicholas the Butler: You know who Rudy is, come on.
Jordan Belfort: He knows who Rudy is?
Donnie Azoff: I know…I don’t know fuck…
Nicholas the Butler: You know…
Donnie Azoff: Who the fuck is Rudy? I don’t know anyone named Rudy.
Nicholas the Butler: You know, last month, The Lollipop Club. You know who Rudy was, dancing…
[to Donnie]
Jordan Belfort: You know…you know Rudy?
Donnie Azoff: I don’t…I…I don’t know about fucking know anyone…
[to Nicholas]
Donnie Azoff: What do you mean?
Nicholas the Butler: Rudy.
[referring to Donnie]
Jordan Belfort: So he went to The Lollipop Club?
Nicholas the Butler: Oh, he was at The Lollipop Club for sure. On the stage grinding with everybody.
Jordan Belfort: Why were you at The Lollipop Club?
Donnie Azoff: I don’t know. I got fucked up, I like to dance, I don’t…I don’t know! Maybe I met him, maybe I didn’t. I meet a lot of fucking people.
[to Nicholas]
Jordan Belfort: Just listen to me. Listen to me. Just listen to me.
Nicholas the Butler: What are you saying?
Jordan Belfort: Twenty thousand dollars was stolen from my fucking sock drawer! All my girlfriend’s jewelry now gone. Where the fuck is it?
Donnie Azoff: Rudy? I don’t know who the fuck is Rudy. What the fuck?!
Jordan Belfort: Did your fucking little faggot friend Rudy take my shit, did he? Answer me!
Nicholas the Butler: Okay, now I get it. Now I get why I’m… This is a gay thing.
Jordan Belfort: Oh!
Nicholas the Butler: I see all of you.
Donnie Azoff: You think this is because you’re a fag?
Nicholas the Butler: This is…
Donnie Azoff: My cousin’s a fucking faggot and I go on vacation with him and his boyfriend! I love fags.
Jordan Belfort: You like being in charge, right? I will not be stolen from, you get that?
Donnie Azoff: I fucking like gay people, I don’t like you!
Nicholas the Butler: You don’t like gay people, you’d take it up the ass.
[to Jordan]
Donnie Azoff: You should hire a fucking Mexican like I have in my fucking house.
[at that moment Chester walks over to Nicholas]
Nicholas the Butler: What? What can I…?
[suddenly Chester punches Nicholas in the face]
Nicholas the Butler: Holy shit!
[Chester punches him again]
Nicholas the Butler: Fuck!
[Chester punches him again breaking his nose, his blood spurts onto Donnie, who quickly runs out onto the balcony to vomit]
[Chester and Toby hold Nicholas by his legs over the balcony]
Chester Ming: Talk, you fuck, talk!
Toby Welch: I’m gonna drop you, you fucking!
Chester Ming: Where is it?
[Nicholas screams]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Chester and Toby, they went all Yakuza on Nicholas. You know, they got crazy.
[we see Jordan talking to the cops in his apartment]
Jordan Belfort: I really appreciate your help.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] I had to call the cops just to keep them from killing the poor guy. I gave them each a thousand bucks and told them what Nicholas had done.
[we see the cops dragging Nicholas away and hitting him with their sticks]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Then they kicked his ass. It’s not like I cared about the fifty grand anyway. I was making that much almost everyday through one rat hole or another.
[Brad meets Jordan and Donnie on a golf course carrying a bag full of money]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Now a rat hole, is a friend, like Brad here, who held stock in his name for me.
[Donnie extends his hand to Brad but he ignores it]
Brad: Who are you supposed to be? Jack Nichol-Jew?
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] I drive the price up, then he’d sell and kick most of the profits back to…you guessed it, me! All cash, none of it’s on the books. A big no no of course in the eyes of the law. Enter our new securities attorney, Manny Riskin. Seven hundred bucks an hour to be the voice of doom.
[Jordan, Max and Manny leave the office kitchen]
Manny Riskin: Listen to me, you pissed up the SEC’s leg, you’ll end up with your tits in the ringer.
Jordan Belfort: Will you not worry about it, I have the SEC under control.
[as they walk onto the office floor they notice two brokers doing break-dancing]
Max Belfort: What the fuck are these imbeciles doing?
[walking over to the two brokers break-dancing]
Max Belfort: Hey! Hey! What are you doing? Hey! We got the SEC in here!
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] The Securities in Exchange Commission sent two lawyers down to review our files. So I set them up in our conference room and I had it bugged and the air conditioning turned up so high that it felt like Antarctica there.
[we see to SEC’s sat in the conference room wearing their coats trying to warm up; to the broker carrying in some files for them to review]
SEC Attorney #1: Is it always this cold in here?
Broker: I don’t know.
[the broker leaves the room]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Then, while they were looking for a smoking gun in that room, I was gonna fire off a bazooka in here, offering up our latest IPO.
[Jordan walks through the office talking into the camera]
Jordan Belfort: An IPO is an initial public offering, it’s a first time a stock is offered for sale to the general population. Now as the firm taking the company public, we set the initial sales price and sold those shares right back to our friends. Yet…look…
[Jordan chuckles]
Jordan Belfort: I know you’re not following what I’m saying anyway, right? That’s…that’s okay, that doesn’t matter. The real question is this, was all this legal? Absolutely fucking not. But we were making more money than we knew what to do with.
[Jordan is in a room at his bank unloading his safety deposit box full of cash into a bag]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] And what do you do when you’re making more money than you knew what to do with?
[Jordan presents Naomi with a yellow diamond ring]
Naomi Lapaglia: Oh, my God.
Jordan Belfort: Will you marry me?
Naomi Lapaglia: Oh, my God.
Jordan Belfort: Is that a yes?
Naomi Lapaglia: Are you sure?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, I’m sure. Yeah, I’m sure. Are you sure?
Naomi Lapaglia: Yeah.
[he puts the ring on her finger, Naomi smiles and kisses him]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] I held my bachelor party at the Mirage in Las Vegas. They flight there alone was a bacchanal, one last blow out for the Gods before I settled down for good. A hundred Strattonites, fifty hookers plus fifty more waiting once we landed. Oh, and the drugs. I mean, I tell you, our plane was like a pharmacy with wings.
[we see the party on the plane with all the brokers, including Jordan, having sex with the hookers and taking drugs, later that night in their hotel suit, everyone is passed out drunk when Jordan rises from bed naked and walks over to the window]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] All told, the weekend cost me two million bucks, including the cost of refurbishing the entire twenty-eighth floor.
[at their wedding, after saying their vows Jordan kisses Naomi and the guests clap]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Ah, but the wedding was something out of a fairy tale. With Naomi, my Duchess, me her handsome Duke in The Bahamas Ocean Club our castle.
[at the wedding reception, Jordan and Naomi dance]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Of course after the bachelor party, me, the Duke needed a few penicillin shots so he could safely consummate the marriage.
[a videographer interviews the wedding guests]
Barry Kleinman: Hey, Barry Kleinman, filming the wedding. A few words, huh? For your son.
Max Belfort: Jordan, remember what I told you. It involves your penis and her vagina, you know…you know what can do, Jordy.
[as Naomi notices her English Aunt]
Naomi Lapaglia: Oh, my God! Aunt Emma?
[she rushes over to her aunt]
Naomi Lapaglia: I can’t believe you came!
[she hugs and kisses her aunt]
Naomi Lapaglia: Jordan! Jordan!
[Jordan, who is busy dancing on the dance floor, stops to look over to Naomi]
Naomi Lapaglia: Look who came, it’s Aunt Emma!
[Jordan walks over to them]
Jordan Belfort: Aunt Emma!
Aunt Emma: Oh, Jordan, how are you?
Jordan Belfort: Hey, how are you doing?
[Jordan takes her hands and kisses them]
Jordan Belfort: Pleasure. Pleasure to finally meet you in person.
[wiping the white powder from the edge of Jordan’s nostril]
Aunt Emma: Into the donuts, I see.
Jordan Belfort: Oh, I, uh…I was.
[she kisses his cheeks]
Aunt Emma: I lived through the 60’s, my dear. Enjoy the day.
[she smiles at him and stands next to Naomi; to Jordan]
Naomi Lapaglia: It was a surprise, I didn’t even know.
[Jordan leads a blindfolded Naomi towards the yacht he’s bought her]
Jordan Belfort: Just one more step.
Naomi Lapaglia: Where are we going?
Jordan Belfort: Keep your eyes closed. One, two, three!
[he takes the blindfolds off and she sees the massive yacht for the first time]
Naomi Lapaglia: What is this?
Jordan Belfort: It’s your wedding present.
Naomi Lapaglia: What?
Jordan Belfort: It’s your wedding present, sweetheart.
[we see the yacht has Naomi’s name written on the side of it]
Naomi Lapaglia: What? Are you serious?
Jordan Belfort: I’m serious.
Naomi Lapaglia: A fucking yacht?!
[as we get shown the inside of the yacht]
Commercial Voice: For millionaires, whose ships have come in, this pricey pleasure boat offer the most fun afloat. It’s no coincidence that it’s one hundred fifty feet of green hull is the color of cash. Anchors away!
[back to Naomi’s excited reaction at Jordy buying the yacht for her]
Naomi Lapaglia: Oh, my God, baby!
[she jumps into his arms and kisses him]
Jordan Belfort: Do you like it?
Naomi Lapaglia: You’re crazy.
Jordan Belfort: Do you like it?
Naomi Lapaglia: Yes!
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] For three weeks we sailed the Naomi through the Caribbean, eventually taking our home to Long Island where we bought a house. Seven acres on the Gold Coast of Long Island, the most expensive real estate in the world.
[we see various shots of the massive house and estate]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] With maids, cooks, landscapers, you name it. We even had two guards who worked in shifts, both named Rocco.
[18 months later – we see Jordan lying asleep in his bed]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] It was heaven on earth.
[suddenly a glass of water is thrown onto Jordan’s face jolting him awake]
Naomi Lapaglia: Wake up, you piece of shit!
Jordan Belfort: Ow!
Naomi Lapaglia: Who’s Venice? Huh?
Jordan Belfort: Who? Who?
Naomi Lapaglia: Who?
[trying to clear the water out of his ear]
Jordan Belfort: Who? Who?
Naomi Lapaglia: Who? What are you, a fucking owl? Who is she?
Jordan Belfort: I don’t know what the…
Naomi Lapaglia: Some hooker you were fucking last night?
Jordan Belfort: What the fuck are you talking about? No! No way, baby, no!
Naomi Lapaglia: You were calling her name in your sleep!
Jordan Belfort: Are you out of your fucking mind? I don’t…I don’t even know who Venice is! What the fuck does that even mean? Venice! That is the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard in my fucking life!
[we see Jordan in hotel room lying on the ground naked with his hands tied and a lit candle in his ass, he calls out to the hooker, Venice]
Jordan Belfort: Venice? Venice, baby, where are you? Venice? Venice! Where did you go?
[Venice sits beside him and pulls out the candle from his ass making him groan]
Jordan Belfort: Aah! Owie! Owie! Aah! Oh, baby. Oh, you can play rough, huh?
[Venice sits on his back and pours the hot wax from the candle onto his back making him yell out in pain]
Jordan Belfort: Oh, Jesus Christ!
Venice: Relax.
Jordan Belfort: Ow! Owie! Owie!
[as she continues to pour the hot wax onto his back]
Jordan Belfort: I like it! I like it! Ow! Wolfie, wolfie, wolfie, wolfie! Wolfie!
Venice: Wolfie?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, it’s my safe word, baby. It’s my safe word.
Venice: I don’t give a fuck about your safe word!
Jordan Belfort: Oh, come on! You told me you had a safe word!
Venice: Shut the fuck up!
[he screams as she pours more hot wax onto his back]
Venice: Shut up, you little bitch!
Jordan Belfort: Ah! You’re a fucking dirty little birdy! Owie!
[back to the scene with Naomi and Jordan arguing over him calling out the name Venice in his sleep, Naomi holds another glass of water in her hand]
Jordan Belfort: That’s right. That’s right, I forgot. I forgot, babe. Donnie and I were investing in a condominium complex in Venice. That’s why…that’s why all this confusion!
Naomi Lapaglia: Oh, you were investing in Italy?
Jordan Belfort: Not Italy. California, babe.
Naomi Lapaglia: Oh, California?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah!
Naomi Lapaglia: You’re lying piece of shit!
[she turns to leave]
Jordan Belfort: Duchess, baby.
Naomi Lapaglia: Don’t you fucking Duchess me!
Jordan Belfort: Okay! Okay! Okay! Okay, baby, I’m sorry.
Naomi Lapaglia: Don’t you Duchess me!
Jordan Belfort: Baby, I’m sorry. Could we talk…
Naomi Lapaglia: Do you really think that I don’t know what you’re up to?
Jordan Belfort: What?
Naomi Lapaglia: You’re a father now, Jordan.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah.
Naomi Lapaglia: You’re a father now.
Jordan Belfort: I know. Yes!
Naomi Lapaglia: And you’re still acting like an infant!
[she throws the glass of water into his face again and walks away]
Jordan Belfort: Fuuck! Goddamn it! Baby, you know, you, you got real anger issues! You got psychological problems!
Naomi Lapaglia: Who was the one who flew in here at three in the morning on their stupid helicopter and woke up Skylar? That was you.
Jordan Belfort: Oh, Skylar! Oh, fucking bullshit!
Naomi Lapaglia: You forgot that! It doesn’t even matter to you.
[we see Jordan crash landing the helicopter onto his estate, then as he stumbles out of the bushes and walks toward the house he falls into the pool making the security alarm go off]
Naomi Lapaglia: Does it even matter to you that I just had that driving range sodded with Bermuda grass, Jordan? And now you fucking wrecked it!
Jordan Belfort: Oh, my God! Bermuda grass.
Naomi Lapaglia: No, you didn’t research the whole thing and deal with the fucking golf course people!
Jordan Belfort: Oh, my God! You had the deal with the golf course people too! What a Greek tragedy, honey! Oh, my God! You probably had to pay them in cash, with their hands. What a fucking burden! And actually do some work besides swiping my fucking credit card all day, huh? Cause I can’t keep track of your professions, honey! Cause last month you were a wine connoisseur, now you’re an aspiring landscape architect, let me get that right?
[Naomi rushes into the room carrying another glass of water]
Jordan Belfort: No!
Naomi Lapaglia: Fuck you!
Jordan Belfort: No. Don’t you fucking dare throw that fucking water at me. Don’t you fucking dare. Alright, honey? Now if we could just…if we could talk this out, alright? Just use our words, you know, to communicate. Okay? Come on, sweetheart, talk to me. Talk to me.
Naomi Lapaglia: Stop flexing your muscle, Jordan, you look like a fucking imbecile.
Jordan Belfort: Babe, come on, you should feel…you should feel happy you got a husband who’s in such great shape like this, huh? Come here. Come on, give me a kiss. You look so beautiful right now, come on.
[he moves closer to her]
Naomi Lapaglia: Kiss you?
Jordan Belfort: You look so beautiful, baby.
Naomi Lapaglia: Kiss you?
Jordan Belfort: Yeah, give me one…
[suddenly she throws the glass of water onto his face, turns and walks out]
Jordan Belfort: Fuck you!
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Ah, yes. My morning ritual. First I’d get up and fight with Naomi about whatever it is I did the night before. Next was a steam so I could sweat out the drugs still in my system. Then I’d assess the damage, drown out my eyeball, take my back pills to get the day started, then seek to make up with Naomi.
[Jordan enters Skylar’s room where Naomi is sat on the floor holding Skylar]
Naomi Lapaglia: Good morning, Daddy. Where’s my kiss?
[Jordan takes Skylar from Naomi]
Jordan Belfort: Hey, sweetheart.
[he kisses Skylar]
Jordan Belfort: Does Daddy get a kiss from both of you little girls? Huh?
Naomi Lapaglia: Oh, no. No, Daddy doesn’t even get to touch Mommy, for a very, very, very long time.
Jordan Belfort: Daddy is really sorry about what he said in the other room, he didn’t mean any of it.
[Naomi holds up her hand]
Naomi Lapaglia: Daddy shouldn’t waste his time. And from now on, it’s gonna be nothin’ but short, short skirts around the house. And you know something else, Daddy? Mommy is just so sick and tired of wearing panties.
Jordan Belfort: Yeah?
Naomi Lapaglia: Yeah. In fact, she’s decided to throw them all away.
[Naomi parts her thighs, Jordan drops to his hands and knees and watches her transfixed]
Naomi Lapaglia: So take a good look, Daddy. You’re gonna be seeing an awful lot of this around the house.
Jordan Belfort: Oh, baby. Yeah, Mommy.
[he starts crawling towards her]
Jordan Belfort: Yeah…
[as he goes to touch her suddenly Naomi stops him by placing her foot on his head]
Naomi Lapaglia: But no touching.
Jordan Belfort: Oh, gosh. Ow.
[still keeping her thighs apart, taunting Jordan as he watches her]
Naomi Lapaglia: What’s wrong, Daddy?
Jordan Belfort: Mm, baby.
[Jordan drops his head to the ground and pretends to weep]
Jordan Belfort: God. God.
[in the security office, Jordan’s bodyguards are watching Naomi and Jordan via the security camera]
Rocco #1: Look at this shit.
[they watch Naomi and Jordan]
Jordan Belfort: Okay, Mommy likes to play games with Daddy.
[Jordan looks over to the teddy bear across the room]
Jordan Belfort: Mommy, have you ever noticed anything odd about Mr…Mr. Fuzzybear over there? His eyes seem to be a little bit odd, don’t they? Yeah, there’s something little bit different about his eyes.
[we see that one of the teddy’s eyes is a small security camera]
Jordan Belfort: Hah. Yes, I think it’s true! Say hi, Mommy!
[Naomi quickly closes her legs as Jordan waves to the camera]
Jordan Belfort: Say hi to Rocco and Rocco! Say hi. Hi, fellas. See that, huh?
[Naomi hits Jordan as he laughs and quickly gets up and leaves the room]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Of all the fucking days, she chooses today to give me blue balls. I mean today was the biggest day in Stratton’s history and I needed to be thinking straight.
[as Jordan enters the office Donnie goes over to him]
Donnie Azoff: Hey, Jordan! Welcome
Jordan Belfort: Steve here yet?
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] This was the day that we launched the Steve Madden IPO.
Donnie Azoff: Troops are all here, everyone’s all rallied, excited…
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Everything had to run tight, it had to be perfect.
[pointing to a broker cleaning a goldfish bowl on his desk]
Jordan Belfort: What the fuck is that kid doing? What’s he doing? The biggest IPO in this firm’s history, what the fuck is he doing?
Janet: Is he…is he wearing a bowtie?
[Donnie goes over to the broker]
Donnie Azoff: Hi, how are you doing?
Stratton Broker in a Bowtie: Good.
Donnie Azoff: What, are you cleaning the fish bowl?
Stratton Broker in a Bowtie: I just, I had a minute and I…
Donnie Azoff: You had a minute, and today you needed to clean the fish bowl? today?
Stratton Broker in a Bowtie: I finished my paperwork, and I was…so I just had a couple of minutes.
Donnie Azoff: Okay, nice to meet you.
[Donnie shakes the broker’s hand and turns to walk away]
[Jordan and Janet smile as they watch Donnie who turns back to the broker with the bowtie and yells]
Donnie Azoff: On new issue day?! On cocksucking, motherfucking new issue day?!
[Donnie throws his cigarette at the broker and grabs hold of him]
Donnie Azoff: This is what you do?!
[Donnie picks up the fish bowl]
Donnie Azoff: Hey, everybody, listen up!
[he stands on a desk]
Donnie Azoff: This is what happens when you fuck with your pets on new issue day!
[Donnie takes the small fish out of the bowl, puts the fish into his mouth and swallows it whole, Jordan and the other brokers applaud him]
[Donnie steps down and goes over to the broker]
Donnie Azoff: Take your little bowtie…
[he smacks the broker in the face]
Donnie Azoff: Get your shit, and get the fuck out of my office. You understand?
Jordan Belfort: Get the fuck out!
[the broker nods his head, Donnie turns and starts walking away]
Donnie Azoff: Everybody on point! We are here to make money! Everybody on point!
[the other brokers starts throwing balled up paper at the broker with the bowtie]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] A real wolf pit, which is exactly how I liked it.
[Donnie enters Jordan’s office with Steve Madden]
Donnie Azoff: Jordan, look what I caught in the lobby. I caught a genius.
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] Enter Steve Madden. Red hot ladies footwear impresario, and thanks to Donnie, we were taking his company public. Stratton Oakmont was crawling out of the primordial ooze, pond scum no more.
[to Steve as they walk him over to the bullpen]
Donnie Azoff: That’s why they gotta see your face.
Jordan Belfort: You get ’em fired up so they push the shit out of this stack, okay?
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] And not only that, Donnie and I secretly owned eighty-five percent of Steve Madden’s shoes, which legally speaking was a big no, no. But we’d get filthy fucking rich if our troops got behind it. Our job was to get ’em worked up, but not too worked up.
[Donnie and Jordan take Steve to the front of the office and give him a microphone]
Steve Madden: Hello. If, uh…for those of you who don’t know me, uh…my name’s Steve Madden.
Chester Ming: Yeah, we know who you are.
Broker: Your name is on the box.
[the other brokers laugh, Steve looks at Jordan]
Jordan Belfort: Get the shoes, show ’em the shoes. Show ’em the shoes.
Steve Madden: Okay. Yeah.
[Steve takes one of the shoes out of a box and holds it up]
Steve Madden: Anyway, you know, just…this shoe. It’s pretty cool. This is the Mary Lou, which is really the shoe who put me on the map. Without it, I wouldn’t be here.
Female Broker: It’s a fat girl shoe.
Steve Madden: Believe it or not. Believe it or not, though, the Mary Lou is actually the same as the Mary Jane but it’s black Leather.
[the brokers start throwing stuff at Steve and booing him]
[as the brokers are booing and throwing things at Steve, Jordan intervenes]
Jordan Belfort: Hey, hey, hey! Woh, woh, woh, woh! Woh. Woh. Cut back! Come on, will you, will you!
[the brokers cheer and applaud, Jordan takes the microphone from Steve]
Jordan Belfort: Alright! Let’s give it up for Steve Madden and his awesome Mary Lou.
[to Steve who holds up the shoe]
Jordan Belfort: Hold that up. Hold that up. Hold that up proud. Give him a round of applause.
[to Steve as the brokers cheer and clap]
Jordan Belfort: Get out of here.
[to the brokers]
Jordan Belfort: You guys got that out of your systems, huh?
[Steve joins Donnie and Max]
Jordan Belfort: You having good afternoon or what? I wanna take a moment to tell you why Steve here is so absolutely off the fucking wall. It’s because this man is a creative genius. This…this ability, this…this gift that Steve has, it goes beyond just spotting the hottest shoe trends. Steve’s power is that he creates trends, you understand? Artists like Steve come along once every decade. I’m talking Giorgio Armani, Gianni Versace, Coco Chanel, Yves Saint Laurent. Steve, come up here for a second.
[Steven joins him and Jordan puts his arm around him]
Jordan Belfort: I don’t think you all realize that Steve Madden is the hottest person in the women’s shoe industry with orders going through the roof in every department store in North America right now. We have him here in our office! We should thank our fucking lucky stars this man is here. We should be on our hands in knees right now, getting ready to suck this guy off!
[Jordan gets on his knees and pretends to give a blow job to Steve using his microphone]
Jordan Belfort: Huh? Like this! Okay?
[the brokers laugh]
Jordan Belfort: I wanna suck you off, Steve!
[Jordan stands and the brokers clap]
Jordan Belfort: Everyone’s gonna suck you off.
[putting his arm around Steve and pulls him in]
Jordan Belfort: This is our golden ticket into the fucking chocolate factory right here!
[the brokers cheer and applaud]
Jordan Belfort: And I wanna meet Willy fucking Wonka, okay? I wanna be with the fucking Oompa Loompa’s, like this!
[he starts stomping his feet and the brokers cheer and clap him; to Steve]
Jordan Belfort: Get off this fucking stage. Get out of here.
[Steve joins Donnie and Max on the side]
Jordan Belfort: Alright, I want you all to focus for a second. See those little black boxes? They’re called telephones, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret about these telephones. They’re not gonna dial themselves, okay? Without you, they’re just worthless hunks of plastic, like a loaded M16 without a trained Marine to pull the trigger. And in the case of the telephone, it’s up to each and every one of you, my highly trained Strattonites, my killers! My killers, who will not take no for an answer. My fucking warriors, who will not hang up the phone until their client either buys or fucking dies!
[the whole office goes crazy, cheering Jordan]
Jordan Belfort: Let me tell you something. There is no nobility in poverty. I’ve been a rich man, and I’ve been a poor man, and I choose rich every fucking time! Cause at least as a rich man, when I have to face my problems, I show up in the back of the limo wearing a two thousand dollar suite and a forty thousand dollar gold fucking watch!
[he dangles his watch and throws it into the crowd of brokers and one of the brokers catches it]
Jordan Belfort: Right boys, hit him! Hit him!
Broker: Get the fuck off of me!
Jordan Belfort: Now if anyone here thinks I’m superficial or materialistic, go get a job in fucking McDonalds, cause that’s where you fucking belong! But before you depart this room full of winners, I want you to take a good look at the person next you, go on.
[the brokers look at each other]
Jordan Belfort: Cause sometime in the not so distant future, you’re gonna be pullin’ up to a red light and you beat up old fucking Pinto, and that person’s gonna be pulling up right alongside you in their brand new Porsche, with their beautiful wife by their side, who’s got big voluptuous tits.
[the brokers laugh]
Jordan Belfort: And who are you gonna be sitting next to? Some disgusting wildebeest with three days of razor stubble in a sleeveless moo-moo, crammed in next to you with a carload full of groceries from the fucking Price Club! That’s who you’re gonna be sitting next to!
[the brokers laugh again]
Jordan Belfort: So you listen to me and you listen well. Are you behind on your credit card bills? Good, pick up the phone and start dialing! Is your landlord ready to evict you? Good! Pick up the phone and start dialing! Does your girlfriend think you’re fucking worthless loser? Good! Pick up the phone and start dialing! I want you to deal with your problems by becoming rich!
[the brokers applaud him]
Jordan Belfort: All you have to do today is pick up that phone and speak the words that I have taught you. And I will make you richer than the most powerful CEO in the United States of fucking America.
[the brokers go crazy cheering him]
Jordan Belfort: I want you to go out there and I want you to ram Steve Madden’s stock down your clients throats, till they fucking choke on it. Till they choke on it and they buy a hundred thousand shares, that’s what I want you to do!
[the brokers cheer again]
Jordan Belfort: You’ll be ferocious! You’ll be relentless! You’ll be telephone fucking terrorists! Now let’s knock this motherfucker out of the park!
[the brokers start going crazy as they start dialing their phones]
Jordan Belfort: [voice over] At one p.m., we opened the stock for sale at four dollar and fifty cents a share. By one-o-three, it was over eighteen dollars. Even the big Wall Street firms were buying.
[we see FBI Agent Patrick Denham arriving at work and continuing his investigation of Stratton, Jordan and the other brokers, we then see Jordan sat at his desk talking directly to the camera]
Jordan Belfort: Of the two million shares offered for sale, a million belonged to me held in phony accounts by my ratholes. Now, once the price hit the high teens…
[he stops and laughs]
Jordan Belfort: You know what? Who gives a shit? As always, the point is this.
[we see Donnie in Jordan’s office holding a champagne bottle and two glasses]
Donnie Azoff: Twenty-two million dollars in three fucking hours! Can you believe this, kid?
[Jordan hugs Donnie]
Jordan Belfort: I could love your tits!
[Jordan kisses Donnie on the cheek, just then Janet enters the office and interrupts them]
Janet: Jordan! Barry Kleinman’s on the phone from Future Video?
Jordan Belfort: Who?
Janet: I don’t know, he shot at your wedding. He says it’s urgent.
Jordan Belfort: Urgent? Who the fuck is Barry Kleinman?
[teasing Janet]
Donnie Azoff: Oh, my God! You wanna marry me? You’re in love with me?
Janet: Yeah, go fuck your cousin.
[Janet turns to leave the office and Donnie follows her]
[Jordan takes the call from Barry Kleinman]
Jordan Belfort: Barry, what’s up?
Barry Kleinman: Listen, uh…I got this subpoena.
Jordan Belfort: Subpoena? What the fuck are you talking about?
Barry Kleinman: Yeah, the FBI, they want a copy of your wedding video.
Jordan Belfort: Fucking FBI? Are you fucking kidding me?
Total Quotes: 293
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