INT. GAMBLING DEN, MOMBASA - DAY
Crowded, bustling, smoke-filled. a westerner (40’s), shabby suit, is squeezed in at a dice game. This is EAMES. He FIDDLES with his last two chips.
COBB (O.S.): Rub them against each other all you like, they’re not going to breed.
Eames looks up to see Cobb.
EAMES: You never know.
Eames tosses down his last chips. The dice are rolled...
COBB: Drink?
Eames loses.
EAMES: You’re buying.
Cobb follows Eames. Eames mysteriously produces two stacks of chips and puts them down in front of the cashier. Cobb pulls one off the top, squints at the embossed name.
COBB: You’re spelling hasn’t improved.
Eames GRABS the chip. Hands it to the cashier.
EAMES: Piss off.
Crowded, bustling, smoke-filled. a westerner (40’s), shabby suit, is squeezed in at a dice game. This is EAMES. He FIDDLES with his last two chips.
COBB (O.S.): Rub them against each other all you like, they’re not going to breed.
Eames looks up to see Cobb.
EAMES: You never know.
Eames tosses down his last chips. The dice are rolled...
COBB: Drink?
Eames loses.
EAMES: You’re buying.
Cobb follows Eames. Eames mysteriously produces two stacks of chips and puts them down in front of the cashier. Cobb pulls one off the top, squints at the embossed name.
COBB: You’re spelling hasn’t improved.
Eames GRABS the chip. Hands it to the cashier.
EAMES: Piss off.
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