You haven't looked at the new courses. I'm like a kid in a candy store.
Candy lost its appeal now that I work at the store.
Becoming a teacher here gave me diabetes.
I was just saying that. Are you always thirsty, fatigued...
and have blurry vision and your cuts heal slower?
- Those are actual diabetes symptoms. - That's what the doctor said.
So is he treating it?
- I asked him the same thing. - What did he say?
"Make an appointment through his office during business hours.
This is his home. His children sleep here." You know doctors.
Oh, my gosh, you guys.
There's a class called Basic Grifting.
Should we all learn how to be grifters together?
- Wait, what do grifters do again? - I got this.
- I'll tell you for 5 bucks. - No.
- You better sign me up. - I've wanted to learn grifting...
since I saw The Grifters featuring John Cusack, Anjelica Huston...
and almost no grifting. - Don't take a grifting class.
You're gonna get grifted. More so than by that oceanography class.
Only none of you will get a goldfish.
- Then you'll come back to me. - Why you?
Let's face it, I'm the closest thing that Greendale has to an experienced grifter.
Oh, this is one of those things where Jeff gets jealous of something dumb.
Jeff's jealous of a grifter. Ha-ha-ha.
Because he wishes he was still a grifter.
That's something I can mock, and I live in an RV.
My table folds down from the wall.
I say we take the grifting class together...
have a great time and rub it in Jeff's face.
Who's in and can you cover me? I'll pay you back.
- I'll get it from your parents. - I'll pay you back.
- And I'll pay back your parents. - Which will be never.
I'll get a high-five from your parents.
Each student should bring a briefcase. I don't have a briefcase.
We're gonna grift with briefcases? Basic, my ass. That's advanced.
- I have a few extra briefcases. - Shocker.
We each need a regulation grifting briefcase.
- It's a grift. - What's a regulation briefcase?
I don't know, but they're provided for only $150.
You're being grifted.
Shut up, Jeff. You're such a negative person.
What do you contribute to this group besides negativity?
Guys, watch this.
- Can I borrow $150? - No.
See? Now, who's gonna come with me and show this guy what's up?
- I'll pay you back. - I'll get it from your parents.
Tell them I spit on their wealth, and thank you.
Ripped By mstoll
Good morning.
My name is Professor Roger DeSalvo, for the time being.
For I use many a pseudonym.
Such as Jeff Goulash, Phillip Switch or Baz Ravish.
For I am a grifter and this is Grifting 101.
Now, which one of you thinks I did that on purpose?
Exactly, you think you've seen me fail.
You think you've spotted a weakness.
Let me tell you something. With the flick of a wrist...
I could show you a fool one minute...
or longer.
I see you've got your briefcases. Excellent. Hold them aloft.
Pass them to each other.
Now pass them back.
Do it at speed.
Quicker. Pass them like hell.
Pass them like your sister's dying.
And continue that for about 40 minutes.
Wait. Forty minutes?
- What's your name, my love? - Annie Edison.
Sounds like a real name, not the name of a grifter...
and therefore, not a teacher.
- Ahem. - What?
My name is Slick Pockets Tucker.
- No, it's not. - Correct. What will the next lesson be?
The next lesson will be passing two briefcases.
You need to master the art of passing one...
then you can purchase another briefcase.
- What? - You talk too much. Keep passing.
It's a very funny book.
Oh, no. Grifters.
I better watch my french fries, unless...
Counterfeit? Where'd you learn to do that?
- We didn't learn anything. The class is... - A rip-off?
What's another word for that?
- All he did was make us pass briefcases. - He kept trying to sell us stuff.
Briefcase-swapping talcum for grifter's palm. Oil for silent switcheroos.
Something called extra believable socks.
Those are actually half off. I kind of feel like I grifted him.
So, in a sense, what happened is you took a class about grifting...
and?
Jeff, you really need us to say it?
- You were... - Whoa. Yeah.
I need you to say it. Let me just get settled.
Ah.
Okay, go.
- You were right. - Oh, aah.
Oh, yeah.
Well, you live and you learn, guys.
Well, you live, anyway.
- So now will you please help us? - Help you?
- We want revenge. - We wanna grift him back.
Grift a grifter? That's as dumb as taking his class.
- Cut your losses. - Jeff...
I begged you not to go down this path, and you made fun of me.
- You pointed at my face and laughed. - We're sorry.
My feelings are fine.
I'm just very lazy, and you gave me an excuse to do nothing.
- I'm not just gonna throw that away. - He's even lazier than you.
Doesn't your species consider that a challenge?
Shouldn't you be having some reverse pissing contest...
to determine who's laziest?
Wait, is that where you suck it back up in your?
Sorry. I've only ever done it the other way.
You mean peeing?
No, I mean in the back.
He hasn't done anything to me.
In fact, he sounds like a pretty good guy. I bet we'd get along.
Good show. Good show.
What show?
I haven't seen that show. All right, all the best.
And you are?
Well, I was the guy with a full bottle of Scotch...
and a high tolerance for foreigners. - Ha-ha-ha.
How robust. I imagine that you're Jeff Winger.
Turns out we're going to be office buddies.
Hello there, sir. My name is Roger DeSalvo.
Or is it? You see, I happen to be in the...
Grifting 101. Yes, I've heard about you.
That would be your desk. If you need a mnemonic device...
it's the one without someone's stuff all over it.
Well played. Very well played.
I gotta say...
I admire your style.
Grifting people by selling them grifting lessons? It's genius.
- But I call... - I never said my class was a grift.
Don't worry about me. I'm one of you. Was, anyway.
Do tell.
Well, I worked in one of the top law firms in the city as a lawyer.
But guess what. I'm not a lawyer.
Heh. No, I think you're talking about lying.
- Grifting happens to be an art form. - The art of lying.
Let's not get high-handed. Grifting is lying.
Okay, so like a string is a sweater. Like paint is the Sistine Chapel.
Sure, grifting includes lying, but only a liar would call grifting lying.
And only a delusional hobo would glorify stealing.
Did you say something that wasn't true?
- Maybe we should phone the museum. - I was on your side. You're an ass.
Well, you're a craftless, artless thug.
And I'm God's paintbrush. No, I am God.
Which pretty much makes me better than you.
You know what?
Let's agree to disagree.
It's not important.
Oh, okay, so you can lie. Yeah? You liar.
Yeah.
I wanna speak to you, you son of a bitch.
What?
I love you.
Oh.
I do too.
Good.
Why are you guys still doing that?
Well, it was homework. And we're getting better, right?
Or the friction has melted the handle to fit into our palms.
There's nothing to get better at. The class is a grift.
The next person that says "grift" is gonna grift.
My God, now it's replacing other words.
All right, I'm in.
Let's grift the son of a bitch.
Why are you cheering? He could be saying anything.
Grift, grift, grift.
Good work. I can't remember your name.
Likewise, no idea what your name is. Great job.
All right. I'd say you're pretty close to swapping with briefcases...
Ioaded with actual fake money, such as this.
This isn't real money. It's just cut-up newspaper, but it weighs the same.
Costs $5 apiece.
You'll be using 10.
- Telegram for Elroy Patashnik. - I'm Patashnik.
Telegram, sir.
Oh, my God. My Aunt Baba died on vacation while in Africa.
She left me a million dollars.
The African government wants to seize the funds.
Class dismissed.
Not you.
Are you out of your mind?
- What? - The African Telegram.
The Jim Belushi of grifts.
Are you trying to grift me?
- I'll cut you in for 14 grand. - Get out.
Out.
One more thing.
- Nice try twice. - Twice?
The fake grift within the grift.
The double bean, if you like. I'm gonna mention a name...
and however you react, I'll know the truth.
Jeff Winger.
- That's the one. What...? Who? - Who? Jeff Winger?
That's the one.
Out you go. Say hi to him.
By the way, Jeff Winger.
Nice try thrice.
Hey. How was grifting class?
Did you teach advanced grifting techniques...
only you could understand? The Brown Betty?
The Texas Well Baby? The Reverse Jim Gaffigan?
Well, I wouldn't teach the African Telegram...
since I'm not a hack, and also since the Internet.
Okay, you caught me. Game over.
- Let's end this competition. - Cheers to that.
Uh... Sir? You... That guy left his lottery ticket on the table.
That was the telegram man.
- No, it wasn't. I mean, what telegram? - Exactly.
What telegram? Because the Internet.
You know, that place you obviously went to, to type in the word "grifting."
I'm gonna grift you. I'm gonna grift your ass.
Or is that the grift?
None of it's a grift. It's all nonsense.
Okay, how many times have I told you people...
the faculty lounge is not a bar?
All right, pack it up, people. Come on.
You don't have to go teach a class, but you can't stay here.
Look. Truce. Okay?
Promise no more grifting and promise, if this is worth a million, we'll split it.
You're an idiot.
- Or maybe I'm a genius. - I can answer that.
- You're an idiot. - Can an idiot walk backwards like this...
and not hit anything? - Maybe.
Or maybe not.
What?
What are you doing here?
This guy is a grifter.
Professor of grifting.
He charges $400, you get two briefcases...
and your ex-boyfriend becomes an obsessive...
I didn't know you and Winger were lovers. If he wanted my respect...
he should've opened with that. - Are you trying to be disarming?
- Are you grifting me out of my arms? - I did nothing.
He called himself a grifter. I corrected him.
Yeah, because the truth is so important to the both of you.
So, what's it gonna cost to make you go away?
- Ahem. - Well?
He took the bait.
- Yes. - Yes.
I thought we didn't want him to take the bait.
We're saying the same thing. He didn't take the bait we didn't want taken.
- The African Telegram. - Yeah, which was offered as fake bait...
and taken as such, I.e., not taken.
- Because that made him feel in control. - And by avoiding all visible bait...
he placed himself on the hook of assuming we're planning to grift him.
- I like it. - Yeah.
But we are. So he knows the truth.
Isn't that the one thing you're not supposed to know...
when you're being grifted?
Hmm. He can know a plan all he wants.
But the plan he knows won't be our plan.
- Okay. - Okay.
Because our plan is impossible to know?
Because...
Oh, my God.
Jeff is making this up as we go.
Shh! Just knock it off. What do you want from me?
- We wanted you to help us do a grift. - I'm working on it.
- Improvisationally? - They had a plan in The Sting.
If anyone wants to watch it, it knocks out half a day.
Look, do you guys remember when we hugged...
and jumped up and down in the cafeteria?
Obviously.
Having been together virtually nonstop ever since...
at what point do you think I slipped off...
and planned an entire grift then withheld it from you?
At any of the several dozen points when a normal person would say:
"By the way, I have no plan."
In The Sting, they withhold stuff from each other.
Or from the audience, for effect. Also, 20 percent of the movie is hand-drawn.
- Why don't you marry The Sting? - If we have half-Sting children...
when they ask how to grift, I'll tell them to watch their mother. Not you.
You are unbelievable.
- Bad stinger. - Shut up, okay?
You guys, you're... You're always picking on me, all right?
You've really been hammering me lately. All I had was the idea that...
Look, I... I need this.
I need to be better than this guy.
Let me think.
- Abed. - Yeah.
- Did you bring your laptop? - Right here.
What do you wanna do with it?
Watch The Sting.
It's over.
What happened?
Who got shot? Ahem.
What's going on? Was Sting even in it?
- That was terrible. - You slept the whole time.
The dialogue seeped in my dreams.
- My whole brain is long and quiet. - So how did they grift him?
Well, they basically made a fake building and hired a thousand people...
to cooperate in perfect secrecy.
Hmm.
- Should we just do that? - We could watch another grifter movie.
- More activity in Matchstick Men. - Like what?
- At one point, they build a fake hospital. - So much construction.
Oh, God. It's so late.
- You're gonna bail on me, aren't you? - I think we have to, Jeff.
We've tried everything we can.
Maybe over the weekend, I can make a fake building.
But all the briefcases and the swapping and The Sting? I'm not cut out for it.
I think real grifts only happen in movies.
- Even then, they barely make sense. - Look, I'm old. The Sting is terrible.
Grifting is stupid. The writing's on the wall.
- So that's it. - There's no shame in this, Jeff.
Oh, I don't know about that.
Well, this is a scene to behold.
Huddled in the closet, watching The Sting like gypsies.
Roger.
We surrender.
You were right.
I'm no grifter.
No, I was wrong.
If you remember, I called you a thug.
Thugs fight.
You're more...
No, I can't think of a metaphor pathetic enough to suit you, Jeff Winger.
I'm reminded of something Oscar Wilde once said...
when he compared sheep to wolves.
Screw it.
Britta.
You hit me. With a woman's hand.
You Midwestern floozy.
I lived in New York.
Aah!
Yeah, right, he's grifting us.
Ugh. Grift blood. Someone taste it.
I'm sure it's karo syrup and food dye.
I mean, I would, but my diabetes.
- 19, 20, 21.
Are you counting the amount of money or the number of stacks?
Um...
- I have to start over. - I'll do it. Move.
But I want to go on record as being disgusted by this transaction.
Got it. Disgusted.
I'm sorry, love, but would you rather we took this to court?
No, no, no. We appreciate you keeping this between us.
I wanna remind you...
we offer a lot of classes and many of them are cash-only.
Me, take a class here? Talk about a rip-off.
Ha-ha. Oof.
Talk about a ribbing. Ha-ha.
What the hell am I doing?
You know, so far, Frankie's disgusted and that's it.
Seems like a waste of a record.
- I'm so sorry, guys. This is all my fault. - Don't be.
I'm the one who got into a pissing match.
- With a jerk. - You're a jerk.
- You're a jerk.
You're all jerks.
And this whole school can suck a big one.
And you can put that in your record.
I'm sorry, guys. I'm bound by my station.
Speaking on that topic. Britta.
This is all your fault and you're expelled.
- No, dean... - Let... Let me handle this.
Pelton, you can't do that.
Britta's the heart of this group. She started it.
As a... As a fake biology group...
so that she could have sex with Troy.
- No, no, no. - That's exactly it.
Okay. Don't let me handle it.
- No. - You can't expel Britta.
She's been here six years. Three more and she'll have her two-year degree.
Britta keeps me grounded in reality.
You can't expel her with four week-isodes left in a seaso-mester.
- It's starting. - It's okay, guys. It's okay.
All right. Fifty thousand.
And I'll just put this in here. Mm, mm.
- Give it to me. - Yep.
Don't help me anyone. Oh.
- Turn me around. - Ugh.
Come on, you guys.
I'll see you later.
Hey.
The plan was to meet later.
So, what's it gonna cost to make you go away?
There's a way we could end this very quickly and make a bit of money.
I don't like it. But keep talking.
Yes, that was the plan. And your plan was probably to never show up.
Clever girl. Don't trust anyone.
Hang on. Did you have to hit me for real?
Have to? No.
Mm. Now that you're expelled...
you might consider a career in grifting.
- You're quite good at it. - I don't know.
How does one go through life like that?
Well...
follow me and I'll show you. - Oh, shut up.
I only agreed to any of this to get you away from Greendale...
and out of Jeff's hair.
He's an idiot, but I hate watching him spin out trying to beat you.
- Oh, you sentimental fool. - No.
Later. At the motel.
The motel. Hmm.
I am the king.
No.
What the hell?
Oh, shut up.
The only reason I agreed to any of this...
was to get you away from Greendale and out of Jeff's hair.
What the...?
You two. Come back here.
Briefcases.
Coming right through.
Identical briefcases.
What? Why more briefcases?
This is pointless.
I already know she's got my briefcase.
Briefcase parade.
Who the hell are you?
You get back here.
You get back here with my money.
Get back here.
- Oh, Roger. - They stole my money.
- What? - What?
Those briefcases contain my money. They stole $50,000 from me.
Fifty grand, huh?
- You know what he's talking about? - Don't think so.
These are our briefcases.
We're in his class. He sells these supplies, 150 bucks.
- Really, a hun...? Okay. - We are still rolling.
We got pretty good at it too. Check it out. Ow.
- Ow. Sorry. I got it. - Sorry. Okay.
Roger, why were you walking around with $50,000?
- Are you mental? - Hey. Whoa, pal.
That usage may fly in the UK, not in the States.
I have a mentally challenged cousin.
- Sister. - Pics.
- I wanna see pics. - Me too.
You know very well that this school paid me $50,000 in cash...
for these injuries.
You seem to be in pretty good shape now.
Oh, my God. Look at the two of you.
Yeah, he's the reason I became a cop.
You know, a lot of bullies out there.
There are a million witnesses to this.
- Hey, everyone. - Hey, guys.
Hanging out in the cafeteria?
Hi, professor... Oh, what happened to your face?
This is ridiculous.
Oh, she's beautiful. You could be twins.
So the statement I'm hearing here is you're a grifting professor.
- Yeah. - Teaching these people how to grift...
but you're saying they grifted you?
No, you id... I'm not saying that.
They didn't grift me. What they do is not grifting.
They wouldn't even understand the word.
I think we need to take what Roger's saying more seriously.
Because it sounds like he was either the victim of crass, artless thuggery.
- Correct. - In which case...
there really is $50,000 floating around...
that he was given for clearly fake injuries...
and that he, therefore, now owes the school.
- What? - Or Professor DeSalvo was targeted...
by a group of people he vastly underestimated.
In which case, the money was given and then taken back...
and nobody owes anybody anything.
All he would have to do is admit.
I was grifted.
- Yeah! - Grift, grift, grift.
Grift, grift, grift.
Why are you even here? Who called you?
Nobody. I take macramé after work.
They know that.
Sorry you got grifted.
Let me know if you wanna press charges...
and if you can think of what those would be.
Professor DeSalvo, under the circumstances...
I'm sure you agree it doesn't make sense for you to keep teaching here.
Yeah, I mean, we kind of know everything there is to know.
You should refund all of their money.
And we should all go get some hot dogs!
Hot dogs!
Hot dogs, hot dogs, hot dogs.
Hot dogs...
Wait. We were all in on it the whole time?
You weren't.
- Because I can't be trusted. - Aah!
Hot dogs, hot dogs, hot dogs.
- Telegram for Mr. Winger. - Ridley.
- I returned the telegram man outfit. - Thank you so much.
I know how crazy this week's been. You really didn't have to do this.
Are you kidding? I owe you.
- Whatever you need, say the word. - All right.
I could use your help moving a mattress this weekend.
Okay, cool.
- Is that okay? - Let me know.
My name is Ryan Ridley.
Three years ago my life was saved by a stranger at my gym.
I felt like I owed him my life.
Apparently, he agreed.
Now he has me do things.
And I keep hoping and praying that one day I'll do enough...
for him to call us even.
Until then, I'm just a guy from his gym.
Ripped By mstoll