tunnel rat posted on April 19, 2010 10:34

               Rudy goes on a series of initial meetings like Narvin said.

               * Rudy sits across from the HEAVILY PIERCED DEVELOPER at an
               interactive media company.  A Che Guevera poster is in BG,
               and the cube farm has the bare bones, dotcom trappings.  Rudy
               notices the disco ball hanging from the ceiling.

                         Does that disco ball work?

                                   PIERCED DEVELOPER
                         Probably, this was a nightclub.

               Pierced Developer thumbs his cell phone furiously and pays
               scant attention to Rudy.

               * Rudy sits in the plain office of a boring payroll
               outsourcing company.  Corpulent I.T. MANAGER looks over his
               resume and picks his nose without any regard for Rudy.

                         Find what you're looking for?

               Manager gives Rudy a sly smile and crumbles up his resume.

               * Rudy enters the seedy office park space of an adult web
               site company.  A twenty-something pervert METH HEAD walks him
               around the place, where slimy dropouts work on porn content. 
               Every single computer screen has a different porn scene and
               the workers can't help but stare at the action.

                         You guys ever get bored of watching
                         fake tits bounce around?

                                   METH HEAD
                         Dude, are you fucking serious?

               * Rudy arrives at a company compound that is surrounded by
               barbed wire in the worst part of East LA.  He's met by a
               SCARED MANAGER at the front desk.

                                   SCARED MANAGER
                         The position was already filled.

Posted in:   Tags:
tunnel rat posted on April 18, 2010 13:50

               Rudy stands in front of the same mirror, now in a short
               sleeved starched oxford and a cheap tie.  Too-long dark
               slacks cover his shiny Marine Corps-issue dress shoes.  He
               buckles his tan canvas Marine Corps-issue belt and aligns the
               buckle perfectly over the seam of his waist.


               Rudy enters the magnificent office lobby, resume in hand.  He
               signs in and quickly notices the striking Asian receptionist,
               CARINA (22).

                         Wow, so I could end up with a job
                         and a date all in one day?

               Carina bats her eyelashes at the smiling Rudy.  The
               attraction is obviously mutual.  She checks his name on the
               sign in sheet.

                         Who said anything about a job...Mr.
                         Please have a seat.

               TIME PASSES

               Rudy sits and waits with the other CANDIDATES, gazing at
               Carina skillfully working the phones.  She gestures to him.

                         Mr. Ashley will see you now.

               He follows her, limping slightly...

               And they enter the next room.  It's massive, with large desks
               surrounded by AGENTS and RECRUITS.  Large white boards with
               job requirements cover the walls.  Huge windows reveal the
               view from the 10th floor suite that overlooks John Wayne
               Airport - prime real-estate.

               Everybody is either on the phone or in a face-to-face
               interview, like a speed-dating event.

               Rudy fights his nerves and pulls even with Carina.

                         You are...

                         Carina.  It's nice to meet you, Mr.

                         Not even my dad was a "Mr. Torrent"
                         so let's go with Rudy for now, and
                         over dinner.  Is that a deal?

               He puts out his hand, but she doesn't shake it.  His hand is
               grabbed by a large African American one instead.

               NARVIN ASHLEY (51), founder and president of the agency,
               grips Rudy's hand firmly and furrows his shaven brow.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         Damn glad to meet you, Rudy.


               Rudy sits across from the big man as Narvin scans his resume. 
               Narvin grabs a red Sharpie and Rudy notices the insignia of
               1st Recon Battalion etched on the cup.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         Some serious chickenshit here.  A
                         little college, stint in the Army.

               Offended, Rudy quickly corrects Narvin.

                         No better friend...

               Narvin finishes the familiar Marine Corps saying.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         No worse enemy.

               Narvin lightens up.  He was just testing Rudy.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         And man ain't that the poor whore's
                         truth?!  What unit?

                         Three-One.  India Company.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         No shit!  I was at Telega with
                         First Recon.  Went to Kuwait. 
                         What's your MOS?


                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         Why the fuck's a grunt answering an
                         ad for a web developer?

                         I'm not answering an ad.  I got
                         your name and number from some
                         pogue at Camp Pendleton.

               Narvin smiles.  He likes Rudy instantly.

                         I was a computer science major at
                         NYU.  But after 9/11, I had to do

               Narvin flips to page two of the resume.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         Did ya' get some action or did ya'
                         get kicked out?

                         Medical discharge.  Bullet
                         destroyed my kneecap.

               Narvin pauses a moment.  He now has great respect for Rudy.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         So if I could help you get your
                         dream job, what would it be?

                         Building websites.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         With this suck-ass resume?  Not
                         gonna happen.  You got no
                         experience, no degree, and ohhh
                         baby..."United States Marine Corps -
                         Infantry"...that fucks you hard. 
                         In the ass.

                         But I can code anything.  Dot-Net,
                         PHP, even some Java.

               Narvin delays.  He can either end the interview, or he can
               help Rudy out.  He decides to help.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         We gotta beef this up before I can
                         send you to the dawgs.

                         Beef up?

               Narvin writes all over the resume with the red Sharpie.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         Scratch this military shit.  These
                         dotcoms are filled with liberal
                         pussies who got brainwashed in
                         college to blame America, white
                         males, and above all, the military. 
                         They don't respect you.

               Rudy smiles, excited that Narvin is willing to help.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         And you now have a Bachelors of
                         Science degree, completed in 2002. 
                         Comp Sci major.

                         But I'm 50 credits short.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         It's called a "BS" degree, son.
                             (beat, LAUGHING)
                         Or you can take your unemployed
                         white ass to Circuit City and run
                         with the Nerd Herd.

               Narvin LAUGHS very hard and loud, cracking himself up.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         Oh shit, just imagine driving
                         around in a goofy little eco
                         mobile, fixing PCs!
                         That'll get you tons of titties.

               Rudy also LAUGHS, imagining that pathetic scene.

                         Those changes sound good.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         You better bring your A game to
                         this shitstorm called the I.T.
                         business.  There's good money if
                         you can handle it.

                         Exactly how much money?

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         Glad you can talk money.  So many
                         broke-dick mother fuckers can't.
                         Guy like you could be making six
                         figures after one good stint.  Work
                         hard for two years...could be 150K.

                         I'm in.
                         So how'd you get into this?

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         After the Gulf War, I started cold
                         called companies and programmers
                         from my bedroom, playing matchmaker
                         for chicken feed.
                         Back then it was all client-server,
                         none of this web shit.  Then Y2K
                         and the dotcom boom hit and I was
                         America's next fucking millionaire. 
                         Bought up all my competitors.
                         Now we got another bubble...real
                         estate.  And lot of those sub-prime
                         NINJA mortgages are based right
                         here in the OC!


                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         No income, no job or assets.  When
                         anyone can walk into Old Century,
                         or QuestAmerica, or right there...

               He points out the window to a hi-rise with the logo
               WideCountry clearly visible on the 20th floor.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         At WideCountry, and get a fat
                         mortgage.  That's a lot of
                         paperwork and computers and
                         programmers, my jarhead brother.

               He struts around the office, rolling up his shirt sleeves to
               reveal an Eagle, Globe, and Anchor tattoo on a bulging
               forearm.  He lifts - a lot.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         I got folks in all those shops,
                         except for WideCountry.  And lucky
                         fat-fucking-ducky-you they have a
                         hot rec for some web work.

                         Is it SQL-Server or Oracle on the

               Narvin moves quickly and puts his armpit in Rudy's face.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         How would I know...do I smell like
                         a fucking geek?!

                         No, sir.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         I'll send you on six interviews to
                         get your dick wet.  Interview seven
                         will be with WideCountry.
                         Then we both make money when you
                         get hired.  Sound like a plan,
                         Devil Dog?

                         Yes, sir.

               Narvin puts his arm around Rudy's shoulder.

                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         Us grunts gotta stick together. 
                         I'll unfuck your resume by COB
                         today.  Memorize it, you copy?


                                   NARVIN ASHLEY
                         And grow that high and tight or
                         you'll freak out those civilians.
                         Now get the fuck out of my CP.

               Rudy turns on his heel and exits, smiling.

Posted in:   Tags:
tunnel rat posted on April 18, 2010 00:06

               Rudy reaches the exit and puts down his seabag.  He knows he
               shouldn't have blown up on Marine Clerk, but he couldn't help
               it.  He closes his eyes, trying to control his emotions, then
               he pulls out a pill bottle and swallows a few painkillers.

                                   LAZLO (O.S.)
                         Need a ride?

               Rudy turns to the voice and sees his dad standing against a
               shiny new Yellow Cab.  Lazlo moves to Rudy and they enjoy a
               long hug.  Rudy's spirits soar.

                         Holy shit, dad, what are you doing

                         I'm sick of driving in the snow!

                         You moved to California?!

                         Yeah, and I already got this shiny
                         cab at my new job.

               Lazlo throws Rudy's seabag in the trunk, then notices Rudy's
               limp as Rudy gets in the front seat.

                         We're gonna do this together.

               They share another long, warm moment.  Their bond is strong. 
               Lazlo drives away from the Camp Pendleton gate.

               EXT. LAZLO'S APARTMENT, CA – DAY 

               Lazlo drives up to a modest single story apartment building
               in a dicey Santa Ana neighborhood.  He takes Rudy's seabag
               out of the cab as DISPATCHER squawks rudely.

                                   DISPATCHER (ON CAB RADIO)
                         Lazlo!  Lazlo!  You have fare at
                         John Wayne.  You go there?

               Lazlo cusses in Hungarian and gives Rudy the house key.

                         There's beer in the fridge.  I'll
                         bring McDonalds after my shift.

               Rudy picks up his seabag, then hugs his dad.


               Rudy enters the dumpy apartment.  On the wall is Lazlo's
               shrine with the deflated blue plaid air mattress and a framed
               photo of Maria.

               Rudy steps to the photo, very close, and studies his mother's
               face.  He looks into a nearby mirror at his own face.  There
               is a striking resemblance, especially in the eyes.  We hold
               on his eyes for a long beat...

               As his intensity turns to welled-up emotion, then a tear.

Posted in:   Tags:
tunnel rat posted on April 17, 2010 12:57

               A sign on the wall reads: 1st MARINE DIVISION OUTPROCESSING

               The office is a flurry of activity and CLACKING keyboards.

               In his dress uniform with three rows of ribbons on the left
               chest, Rudy walks with a noticeable limp and sits down in
               front of a young MARINE CLERK.

               There's an awkward moment as Marine Clerk notices Rudy's
               limp.  He quickly flips through Rudy's service record book,

                                   MARINE CLERK
                         Purple Heart, Combat Action Ribbon,
                         even a Bronze Star.  You saw a lot
                         of action in 40 months.

               Rudy tries to hide his bitterness, but he can't.

                         A lot more than you.
                         Let's finish this.

               Marine Clerk moves quickly and stamps one page, then another,
               and signals for Rudy to sign at the bottom.

                                   MARINE CLERK
                         Good luck, Marine.

               Rudy gets right in Marine Clerk's face.

                         So there's no system to help me get
                         a job after I limp outta here
                         without my kneecap?!

               Intimidated Marine Clerk thinks fast and writes on an index

                                   MARINE CLERK
                         The Corps isn't a job placement
                         agency...but this guy is.

               Marine Clerk hands Rudy the index card.  Rudy reads it.

                         Narvin Ashley?  Who's he?

                                   MARINE CLERK
                         Ex-recon Marine who runs a big
                         staffing agency for programmers in
                         Orange County.
                         And check with the VA when you get
                         settled.  They might have more.

               Rudy looks at the index card again and starts out, then
               softens toward Marine Clerk.

                         Look, I know this wasn't anyone's
                         fault.  I'm still getting used to

               Rudy exits.

Posted in:   Tags:
tunnel rat posted on April 15, 2010 22:41

               TITLE CARD READS: FALLUJAH, IRAQ 2004

               Now a Marine grunt, Rudy sits with his daring squad leader,
               KEVIN FLANAGAN (25) in the corner of a bombed-out, roofless
               building.  Flanagan uses his filthy fingers to excavate a
               pork patty from an MRE.

                         Five days and a wake-up, Devil Dog.

                         We're outta this clusterfuck, man. 
                         You goin' back to Boston?

                         Southie all the way.  Within ten
                         minutes I'll be gettin' some pussy,
                         and within ten days I'll be in the
                         Fire department.
                         What about you?

                         Gonna finish my Comp Sci degree at
                         some state school in California. 
                         Time to start fresh, even if my old
                         man will never leave New York. 
                         It's where he feels comfortable.
                         If I learned anything in the Corps,
                         you gotta get outta your comfort

                         Not if you're comfortably in the
                         muff zone.

               They both LAUGH at that.

                         Is that all you ever talk about?

                         Since we got here and I stopped
                         getting any, hell yeah.

                         Copy that, Devil dog.
                         I can feel it, bro, California is
                         where it's all gonna happen for me.
                         I thought you were gonna get on the
                         programming tip, too.  You said you
                         take some coding classes, right?

                         Yeah, but all that proved was
                         gettin' a sore ass staring a
                         computer screen isn't my thing.
                         Besides, after twenty five years in
                         the fire department, man, I'll be
                         set for life with that pension.

                         Sounds like a plan, my man.  We
                         gotta hook up after this shit.

                         Hell, yeah, the fuckin' bitches are
                         hot in Cali.  I'll come out first
                         vacation I get.

               Rudy LAUGHS again.

                         Vacation, shit man, that sounds
                         good.  Booze and babes...and all
                         these fucking ungrateful Hajis in
                         the super rear view.

               Flanagan LAUGHS.

                         Super rear view of some babes is
                         right!  Just five more days...

               But SUDDENLY A HUGE EXPLOSION RIPS through the tenement!

               When the clouds of dust clear, we find Rudy and Flanagan. 
               They're alive but their M-16s and gear are strewn across the
               concrete, out of reach.

               Marines SCREAM in panic and disarray in BG.

                                   MARINE #1
                         We've taken a direct mortar

                                   MARINE #2
                         MY ARM!  MY ARM!  MY ARM!

               An Iraqi insurgent leans out the doorway, BURSTING SHELLS
               from his AK!  Rounds HIT WILDLY all around Rudy and Flanagan.

                                   MARINE #3
                         UHHH!  UUUHHHHHH!

               Rudy realizes he is unarmed.  He looks around and spots a
               BARETTA 9 MM on the cement 20' across the room.  He starts to
               get up, but falls back down very awkwardly, in extreme pain!


               Rudy lands face first and looks down to notice his left
               kneecap is blown apart.  It's a terrible injury...

               But he doesn't have time to consider it right now.  In
               desperation, he crawls to reach the BARETTA 9 MM.  He quietly
               makes it five feet...

               Then ten feet, summoning all of his resilience.  Rudy looks
               around, waiting for the Iraqi insurgent to emerge...

               But he doesn't.

               Rudy continues, only five feet away now.  He makes an extreme
               final push and reaches the gun...

               Just in time...

               As the Iraqi insurgent spins around the corner and nears
               Flanagan, FIRING...

               But Rudy fires two perfect rounds into the Iraqi's torso!  He
               drops in his tracks.

               Rudy crawls over to the Iraqi, who is still moving, writhing
               in agony and the throws of death.  They look each other in
               the eyes...

               And Rudy FINISHES the teenager with a final bullet in his

               In BG, a focused and unharmed Flanagan reaches for his first
               aid kit as Rudy looks down at his destroyed knee and goes
               into shock.

                         You're gonna be alright, Rudy. 

                         I'm hurt, man.  My knee's fucked.

                         I got you, man, I got you.

               Rudy focuses and pulls Flanagan close, very worried.

                         Tell my dad I owe him everything.

                         No way, Rudy, you're gonna make
                         it...then you can tell him.

               Rudy goes deeper into shock and passes out.


               Flanagan carries Rudy out of the smoking tenement.  Rudy's
               left leg is covered in blood.

                         CORPSMAN UP!  WE NEED A MEDIVAC!

Posted in:   Tags:
tunnel rat posted on April 14, 2010 23:10

               Lazlo double-parks his checker cab in front P.S. 153 and
               dashes into the school.


               Smoking Lazlo drives hastily with Rudy, now 6, in the front
               seat.  A faded black-and-white snapshot of Maria is taped to
               the cracked glove compartment.

               CONSERVATIVE RADIO HOST (50s) plays in BG.

                                   CONSERVATIVE RADIO HOST (OVER RADIO)
                         So what we have is the failure of
                         liberal America to recognize what
                         they owe real America - nothing
                         less than their very way of life.

                                   RUDY (IN HUNGARIAN, SUBTITLED)
                         Can we stop at McDonalds?

                         Excuse me?  I didn't understand.

                                   RUDY (IN BROKEN ENGLISH)
                         We stop...McDonalds?

                         Oh, now I understand.  You mean,
                         can we stop at McDonalds?  Repeat.

                         Can we stop at McDonalds?

               Lazlo smiles, very proud.  He's usually upbeat.

                         Good.  One more fare, then we eat.


               Two well-heeled CREATIVE TYPES (late 20s) in tie-die t-shirts
               stumble out of a peep-show.  Already very high in the middle
               of the day, they hail Lazlo.

               INT. LAZLO'S CAB – SAME

               The wasted passengers tumble into the cab as Conservative
               Radio Host rants in BG.

                                   CONSERVATIVE RADIO HOST (OVER RADIO)
                         If one more limousine liberal tells
                         me shut up about the damage illegal
                         immigration does to my country, I'm
                         gonna vomit on their tie-dies and
                         call the IRS about their illegal

                                   WASTED GUY #1
                         Turn off the radio.  I don't want
                         to hear that fat, fascist pig!

               Lazlo glares through the plastic partition.

                         My cab, my radio.  And watch your

               Wasted Guy #2 LAUGHS and snorts what's left in his coke vial.

                                   WASTED GUY #2
                         Ha, watch my language?!
                         Where you from, Russia?!

               Lazlo takes major offense at this common mistake.

                         My son and I were born in Hungary,
                         and we came here for a better life.
                         Last thing I expected was so many
                         people wasting theirs on drugs and
                         childish behavior.

               Wasted Guy #1 SLAMS the partition, frightening Rudy.

                                   WASTED GUY #1
                         Fuck you fucking foreigner!  Go
                         back to where you came from.

               Lazlo SLAMS his breaks, SMASHING their faces into the
               partition.  He looks at the meter then back to them, ENRAGED!

                         America is a FREE COUNTRY, not that
                         you had anything to do with it!
                         Pay me five fifty...then GET OUT!

               After a beat, the two jerks quickly ditch out of the cab!

               EXT. COLUMBUS AND 51ST - SAME

               Lazlo JAMS the cab in park and BURSTS OUT in hot pursuit of
               his money, leaving a scared Rudy alone in the cab.  Lazlo
               tries to stay on their trail, but he's met by a flood of
               HONKING all around him.

               He quickly gives up.


               Lazlo pulls the cab to a run-down tenement in Hell's Kitchen.

                         Go upstairs and make some toast
                         with honey.  I'll be back soon.

                         Why didn't you chase them, daddy?

               Lazlo LAUGHS and tries to calm his young son.

                         Pick your battles, son.

               Rudy LAUGHS, then Lazlo pulls him closer and gets serious.

                         And always remember what we
                         sacrificed to live the American


               Rudy enters the tiny flat.  The blue plaid air mattress hangs
               on the wall above the couch which is made up like a bed.  A
               cockroach scurries up the wall and darts under the air
               mattress.  Some American dream.

               Rudy opens the refrigerator and sees a loaf of white bread,
               liverwurst, and two cases of Lazlo's favorite beer - Busch. 
               He opens the pantry, takes out a can of Cheese Whiz, then
               puts the nozzle in his mouth and inhales the contents.

               Moments later, he zones out in front of the rabbit-eared TV.

                                                          MATCH CUT TO:

               INT. LAZLO'S WALKUP – 14 YEARS LATER

               Now 20 years old, Rudy sits in the same exact spot, cramming
               for a calculus exam.  Cans of Jolt cola and an ashtray full
               of cigarettes litter the area.  A stack of computer science
               books are next to an aging computer.

               Rudy punches some numbers into a calculator then slams the
               huge textbook shut and grabs the remote for their tiny TV. 
               He's not sure he's seeing things right, so he adjusts the
               aluminum foil-wrapped rabbit ears for the breaking news.


               Rudy is devastated.  He makes an instant decision.

Posted in:   Tags:
tunnel rat posted on April 14, 2010 10:38

               An Italian flag flies above long lines of exhausted men,
               women, and children of all ages.

               Amidst 200 others, somber Lazlo carries a filthy Rudy.  Their
               few belongings are draped over Lazlo, including the now-flat
               blue plaid air mattress.


               Lazlo awakens sleeping Rudy as they circle Manhattan.  Lazlo
               points out the Twin Towers, then the Statue of Liberty.  They
               share a smile and try to move forward after their tragedy.

Posted in:   Tags:
tunnel rat posted on April 13, 2010 09:35

               Exhausted Lazlo swims and swims, pushing the air mattress, as
               Maria holds sleeping Rudy.  Her spirits sag, but suddenly she
               gets her first glimpse of the shoreline and freedom!

                                   MARIA (IN HUNGARIAN, SUBTITLED)
                         There it is, Lazlo...KEEP SWIMMING!

               Re-energized, Lazlo HUFFS and PUFFS harder, encouraged...

               When his face is fully framed in the FAINT SPOTLIGHT from the
               Yugoslavian guard tower.

               SIRENS ERUPT!  Then GUNFIRE!

               BULLETS PIERCE THE WATER all around our family, and in a
               flash, the AIR MATTRESS IS HIT!

                                   LAZLO (IN HUNGARIAN, SUBTITLED)
                         Stay down, Maria!

               They quickly start to sink.  Rudy wakes up, and in a panic,
               he FALLS over the edge of the mattress!


               Maria grabs him by the ankle and pulls him back to safety. 
               But just a moment later, a BULLET SLICES INTO HER ABDOMEN!

               Unaware, Lazlo pushes the sinking mattress, further and
               further out.  His effort is Herculean, and the shooting
               finally subsides.

                                   LAZLO (IN HUNGARIAN, SUBTITLED)
                         They can't reach us now!

               Lazlo waits for her response, but there's only silence.

                                   LAZLO (IN HUNGARIAN, SUBTITLED)

               Mortally wounded Maria holds Rudy close, but she quickly
               loses her strength and collapses onto her back - DEAD!


               Rudy climbs onto his mother, very scared and confused.

                         Mamma.  MAMMA?!

               His American flag falls in the water, floating away, as we...

               FADE TO BLACK

Posted in:   Tags:
tunnel rat posted on April 11, 2010 20:55


               TITLE CARD READS: YUGOSLAVIA, 1985

               Moonlight illuminates a young boy's shivering hand holding a
               small American flag.  Brave but scared RUDY TORRENT (4), sits
               on a blue plaid air mattress...

               While his father, LAZLO (35), clenches his jaw as if their
               lives depend on him - and they do.  Waist deep in sea water,
               he reads a cheap plastic compass.  His wife MARIA (28)
               balances on the air mattress and feeds Rudy a sleeping pill
               and a gulp of brandy.  She whispers to Lazlo, very concerned.

                                   MARIA (IN HUNGARIAN, SUBTITLED)
                         What about the guards?

               Lazlo shoots a worried look, high above the rocky shore to...

               A GUARD TOWER.  The light is on, but the guards are absent.

               Lazlo musters his most convincing smile and whispers back.

                                   LAZLO (IN HUNGARIAN, SUBTITLED)
                         It's Saturday.  They're all drunk.
                             (beat, staying positive)
                         So I push, you hold Rudy, and soon
                         we'll be at the Statue of Liberty!

               Maria forces a smile as Lazlo tests the mattress' firmness. 
               It's ready to go.  He looks across the body of water and the
               horizon appears unreachable.  Lazlo gathers his courage, and
               pushes off into the unknown.

Posted in:   Tags:
tunnel rat posted on April 11, 2010 20:53

In the vein of WALL STREET comes the adult drama TUNNEL RAT, a tale of easy money, greed, and today’s American way of life.


After being badly injured as a Marine in the Iraq War, first generation American Rudy Torrent returns home and lands his high-paying dream job as a computer programmer for the largest sub-prime mortgage company.


After bonding with dynamic company owner Sammy Pessian, Rudy quickly moves up the ranks to a crucial management position.  With only six months on the job, he’s living the American dream with a large salary, a new Mercedes, a beautiful girlfriend, and two homes – one for himself, and one for his perpetually broke, cab-driving father.


But when Rudy uncovers an illegal immigrant hiring scam that’s part of the pending 2008 global financial crisis, he knows he has to do the right thing (even if it means risking everything he has!).  Will Rudy be able to provide the crucial information to stop the scam before he’s silenced forever?

Posted in:   Tags:

- Vineet Nayar, CEO, HCL Technologies

Recent Posts

Slumdog Comment Generator

Not Sure How To Respond?
Use the Slumdog Comment Generator!


«  October 2019  »
View posts in large calendar

Month List

The thoughts expressed on this blog may or may not be the author's own and are protected by the 1st Amendment. Any attempt to reveal his identity by contacting a slumdog hack at Google, or a corrupt Desi sys-admin at his ISP will be dealt with promptly and severely. Civil and criminal penalties may apply if one is found to have used private information in an attempt to get the author fired at the Hindu-only I.T. ghetto he currently works at. In addition, any Desi who attempts to burn the author's house down because they are enraged over his writing will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. This isn't India.

© Copyright 2019 Life of an I.T. Grunt

View My Stats