Ronald E. Giles

Monty Brewster: Gentlemen, do you think I'm a lowlife?

Tailor: Oh no, Mr. Brewster. Not with these clothes.

Rupert Horn: [speaking to Monty in his recorded will] Brewster? Greetings from the grave! Don't look so surprised. Did you know your great-grandfather was a honky? My old man married twice. One wife, white, produced me. One wife, black, produced your grandmother. Checkered family you might say. I've outlived them all Brewster, except you. They tell me you're my only living relative and I have to say, I'm disappointed. Look at you! what have you made of yourself? A failed baseball pitcher. I believe in being honest, Brewster. No bullshit. I'm stuck with you. But... we're gonna have some fun...

[starts laughing only to be overtaken by terrible coughing for a moment before calming down]

Rupert Horn: Let me tell ya a little story, Brewster. When I was seven years old, my daddy caught me smoking a cigar. Locked me in a broom closet for two days and two nights with nothing more than a box of cigars and a book of matches. No food, Brewster. No water, just those god damn cigars. Wouldn't let me out till I finished every last one of them. Taught me one HELL of a lesson! I'm gonna do to you what my daddy did to me. I'm gonna teach you to HATE spending money. I'm gonna make you so sick of spending money that the mere sight of it will make you wanna throw up!

[pause]

Rupert Horn: So, here's my proposition: you have thirty days in which to spend thirty million bucks. If you can do it, you get three hundred million!

Monty Brewster: [more to himself] There's gotta be a catch.

Rupert Horn: Of course there's a catch! You have to spend the thirty million, but after thirty days you're not allowed to own any assets. No houses, no cars, no jewelry. Nothing but the clothes on your back! Now, you can hire anybody you want, but you have to get value for their services. You can donate five percent to charity and you can gamble another five percent away, but you can't give this money away, and that includes buying the Hope Diamond for some bimbo as a birthday present.

[pauses for a beat]

Rupert Horn: oh, I know what you're thinking, you'll buy yourself a dozen Picassos and use them for firewood, right?

Monty Brewster: [nods his head somewhat, still stunned]

Rupert Horn: Wrong! You must not destroy what is inherently valuable, that's instant disqualification. Oh, I almost forgot. You're not allowed to tell anybody WHY you have to spend this money.

Monty Brewster: But why can't I tell my friends?

Rupert Horn: Because I don't want anybody helping out! Nobody helped me out in that closet with those cigars! I never had any friends. So, Brewster what do you think? You got the balls for it?

[pause]

Rupert Horn: I doubt it. That's why I put a special wimp clause in my will. You can have a million dollars right now and forget the whole thing. Or you can go for the big one, Brewster. The three hundred million. But if you fail, you don't get didley!