Home the Horror Story (2000) - full transcript
Bob Parkinson, the conservative patriarch of a suburban family, thinks he's a nice guy. But when he has a brain operation, his latent prejudices turn into vivid experiences in his own home, turning his life into an increasingly horrifying nightmare eventually prompting a personal transformation ... or not.
[plop]
-Shit.
-Hi, Dad.
Oh.
Here you go.
[door handle jiggling]
FEMALE SPEAKER: What's this?
Who locked the door?
Not again.
Bob!
Bob!
Bob!
Bob, dear, you locked us out.
-What?
-This is the third
time this week, honey.
-I did no such thing, honey.
-Well, who did then?
-I don't know.
Someone.
Not me.
-Darling, you have got
to get started again
with your ginkgo biloba.
-I didn't do it, honey.
-Well, what do we do now?
I need to get ready.
Tommy is going to
be here any minute.
-Don't call him Tommy.
You know he doesn't like that.
-OK.
Thomas.
Whatever.
You know, the locksmith is going
to think we are going senile.
-Hello?
-Tommy!
Oh, my little Tommy.
BOB: Don't call him Tommy.
-Oh, it's OK, Dad.
-Son.
Good to see you.
-Good to see you.
-God, it's been so long.
-Hey.
Did you say hello
to your big brother?
-Hi.
-What kind of welcome is that?
Come here and give
me a hug, huh?
Oh!
-Guess what.
-What?
-Kurt and Linda are
here with the baby.
-How is the baby?
-Most adorable
thing you ever saw.
-She's grotesque.
-Grace.
Well, can I get
everyone a drink?
Yeah?
Good.
-So how are things
at the barracks?
-Kurt, Amy's the best thing
that's ever happened to me,
hands down.
-Not a little too
rough for you, son?
-Ain't rough enough.
I'm ready to lick ass.
-Pardon me.
-I'm ready to kick ass, Dad.
-Son, I'm proud of you.
-I hear how popular you are
among the San Diego chicks.
-Oh, that's all rumor
and exaggeration.
So how's the old
congressman been?
-Not so bad.
Yesterday I got half of
Orange City into a frenzy.
My compassionate
Nazism speech seems
to have struck a chord here.
-Compassionate what?
-Don't look at me
like that, Bob.
I'm a populist at heart.
I'm just waiting for the
right mop to come along.
-And what kind of
mop would that be?
-Financially potent,
well traveled.
-That eliminates about
93% of all Americans.
-Damn right.
Do we want to end up like
those peasants in Cuba,
wiping their asses with lettuce?
-You know, Kurt, you
should be running
the NRA or the CIA or MGM.
-Thanks.
GRACE: Ahh!
Bob!
-Here we go.
GRACE: Dear god.
-What happened?
-Oh, my ring, my ring, my ring--
-What ring?
-Jackie O's ring-- the one
we bought at the auction.
-What happened?
-It disappeared.
-How?
-Somebody stole it?
-Who?
-How should I know?
-Mom, I thought you
said it was a fake.
-Yes, but it's Jackie O's
fake, and we paid a ff--
bloody fortune for it.
-Well, now, let's
just look around.
Maybe it fell down or something.
-No.
It was in the box, I know it.
I saw it there.
Yes, this morning.
-Dad.
I think I know who did it.
-How could you?
How could you, after
all we've done for you?
-I told you.
I am not the proper target
of your unfounded accusation.
-I suppose that ring
just miraculously
appeared in your purse.
-My mind is incapable of
such abhorrent comportment.
-Do you realize,
Dorothy, that you
committed not one
but two mortal sins.
-Mr. Parkinson, I am not
guilty of the crime you're
implying I perpetrated,
may the Lord be my witness.
-Now, don't take the Lord's
name in vain, Dorothy.
You lied, you stole, you
betrayed our trust in you.
-No wonder.
She was always listening to NPR.
-Dad.
-Yes?
-It's Easter Sunday.
-So?
-Don't you think you could
show a little compassion?
-You think this woman
deserves compassion?
-Well, didn't Jesus
forgive Mary Magdalene?
-Don't you Mary
Madeleine me, young man.
-Look, all I'm saying
is that I think
Dorothy's been
punished enough, and I
think she's sorry
for what she's done.
-You don't seem
to realize that I
am far above your
petty, bourgeois, inane,
and insipid thought processes.
-I have just about had it
with your Yoruba mumbo-jumbo.
-Dorothy, I'm sorry, but
I feel that I have a duty.
I have a moral and civil duty
to turn you over to the law.
And as far as the
Lord is concerned,
you're just going to have to
deal with him in due time.
-Bob, you're being far too kind.
As Orange City's
chief of police,
I'm placing you under arrest.
-Cocksucker!
-Yeah, this is Chief Tester.
I need six squad cars, two
fire trucks, three helicopters,
a Big Mac and fries,
at 666 North Moron.
No, I've already
apprehended the perpetrator.
Just get here.
-You got enough
backup there, Kurt?
-I know what I'm
doing, young man.
I want to make a
statement with this.
Oh, shoot.
-What?
-I forgot to tell them
to super size the fries.
-So Satan smirks [inaudible]
all of them and goes,
got you, suckers.
[chuckling]
-So what were you saying?
-You treat these people
well, and what do they do?
They steal you blind.
-I mean, I know they've been
victims for hundreds of years,
but is that our fault, hm?
-The question is where have
all the real Americans gone?
-Oh honey, I don't
think there is
such a thing as a real American.
We're all a little mixed up
one way or another, right?
-Not me.
I can trace my ancestry
all the way back to Moses.
I mean the Mayflower.
-Isn't that the
ship that came over
from England full of
convicts and rejects?
-Could you pass
the pepper, dear?
-Oh, wow.
This is beautiful.
What is this?
-It's pumpkin soup.
It's my own recipe.
-So how are things down
at the precinct, Kurt?
-You know, it's getting a
little too small for me there.
-Like I told you, you should
be running this country.
-Yeah, well, personally
I think that I
would do a lot better job than
that liberal retard in the Oval
Orifice.
-I hear that he's--
-A fruit.
-This is not for
little girls, dear.
-A homo.
-Sh.
-Alice.
-Well, you have to admit, they
make wonderful ice skaters.
-Please don't spoil my appetite.
-Oh.
All right.
Good.
BOB: Pardon my
Ebonics, dear, but what
the fuck did you
put in the soup?
-I saw Dorothy putting some
weird powder in the salt
container before she left.
-Rat poison!
-Oh, god.
[coughing and gagging]
-For I want you to
consider that hell is not
only the abyss into which
we may fall at any moment
when the Lord decides
it is our time
to go but a sempiternal reality.
And Satan, a relentlessly
persistent presence
in every single moment
of our daily lives--
[chuckling]
--forget, my devoted
friends, that hell
can be the workplace,
the playground, even
our very own home.
-Father, I haven't been
performing my marital duties
recently.
-Are you ready to
procreate again?
-No, no, no.
-Well, then, you shouldn't
be doing it anyway.
-Except my wife has--
well, you know, needs.
-I think you should advise
your wife to confess.
It is she who is sinful.
-Except have certain thoughts
about-- about other people.
-Are you are acting
upon these thoughts?
-In a certain way.
-In what way?
-I, uh-- I touch myself.
-You masturbate?
-Yes.
-How many times?
-Oh, four or five times a day.
-What are these thoughts?
-I have a dream.
It's a reoccurring dream.
-Yes.
-There's always a woman.
And, uh, two men.
-What are they doing?
-It's just too filthy.
I mean, it's just too
filthy to talk about.
-Now, now, now, it's all right.
I'm here to help
you through this.
What exactly do you think about?
-Well, the woman's, you know--
-Yes.
-And the men's
buttocks thrusting.
-Yes.
-Their bulging, throbbing--
-Organs?
-Yes.
-Dad, if Dorothy died today,
and she hadn't confessed,
would she go straight to hell?
-Absolutely.
Stealing is one of
the seven deadly sins.
-Then all Mexicans go to hell?
-Why do you say that?
-Because they come here
stealing people's jobs.
-(CHUCKLING) Honey,
you are a genius.
-The reverend said that
hell could be anywhere.
-Well, I'm glad you were
paying attention, dear.
-Even our homes.
-Yes.
-And that the devil
could be anyone.
-Well, sort of.
-So Rosie could be the devil.
-Alice, how can you say that?
Rosie is a little angel.
-I think she's execrable.
-She is not.
She's adorable.
-She makes that face
when she's pooping.
-Stop it.
You're just jealous.
-Look!
[screaming]
-Bob?
Bob?
Bob?
Bob?
Can you hear me?
Oh, you're back, honey.
You're back.
BOB: Back from where?
-Wherever it is that you were.
-From the depths of
your subconscious.
BOB: How long was I gone?
-Three months.
BOB: What?
-Yes, it'll be three
months on Monday.
Three horrible, horrible months.
-Don't let it upset you.
Everything is
going to be OK-K-K.
BOB: What happened?
-We were in an accident, dear.
A terrible accident.
BOB: Alice.
-Oh, she's fine, honey.
She's fine.
-Oh, my head!
-They had to operate.
-Did I lose any--
-Grey matter?
-Well, a teensy
little bit, honey.
-Nothing that a little advanced
pharmacology cannot fix.
You will take these
pills with breakfast,
and you will take
these with dinner.
-What are they for?
-These are to wake up.
These are to go to sleep.
These will give you
very vivid dreams.
And you might feel a
little confused at times.
-Confused about what?
-What is real and what is not.
-Oh.
-Nothing to worry about.
-Uh-- what about nightmares?
-If you have nightmares,
and you will,
you will take the
turquoise ones.
But they might give you
little hallucinations.
-Hallucinations?
-You know, you lost
the part of the brain
that contains reality principal.
So the ether is very fragile.
Any stimulus can trigger
the subconscious to erupt.
Impulses that were kept
in control before may be,
so to speak, unleashed.
Basic, primitive instincts
could turn into projections.
Anger, prejudices, secret
fears, repressed desires,
could turn into graphic,
palpable experiences.
[knocking]
-Yes?
MALE SPEAKER: Your
5 o'clock is here.
-I'll be there in a second.
-But how will I
know what's what?
-Oh, you'll get the hang of it.
Sorry.
My next patient is here.
[baby crying]
LINDA: Shut up, you
little blood-sucker.
-Linda, here?
[baby crying]
-Linda?
-Hi.
-What are you doing here, honey?
-Cleaning the little
fucker's ass, as usual.
-Linda.
What kind of language is that?
-It's the only kind
of talk you can
use when you are surrounded
by heaps of caca.
-Linda.
Linda, I hardly recognize you.
-I can hardly
recognize you, Dad.
You looked fucked up.
-I was in an accident, honey.
I've been in the hospital.
I-- I had this--
-You had an operation.
Well, I just hope that you
have enough brain cells left
to calm down your
out-of-control wife?
-What's she talking
about, honey?
-Ugh!
Shut up.
-Come on.
We're gonna go have a chat.
She's just a little
stressed out.
Things have changed
somewhat around here.
You see, dear, she--
she hasn't been the same
since she left Kurt.
-What?
She left Kurt?
-Mm.
-But why?
-I don't know.
Something about martial duties.
BOB: What do you mean?
-Well, apparently he wasn't
getting her satisfied.
-That's a reason to
leave your husband?
-It was for her.
-Well, I can't believe
what I'm hearing.
-Well, apparently girls today
are not what they used to be.
-Well, she's got to
get back to Kurt.
-She won't.
Believe me.
I've tried.
-That's-- that's--
-Look, we're going to
just leave her alone.
She will come back
to her senses.
-You see, that's what we got
from the '60s-- women expecting
orgasms.
-Well, I must say, dear, I see
nothing wrong with wanting one.
-Have you turned into
a feminist, dear?
-No.
Just an ordinary,
garden variety female.
-Things have
changed around here.
REVEREND (ON TV): He who
dies in mortal sin is
subject to the eternal
sufferings of damnation.
My beloved flock, let us
meditate on these holy words.
For it is only the
soul that is cleansed
that can be welcomed
into the fold.
-What's going on?
-Hi, Dad.
-Who was that?
-My boyfriend.
-You can't have a boyfriend.
-Well, I do.
-But you're married.
-Dad, I think even
the pope would
agree that our marriage
should be annulled.
I mean, the guy hasn't fucked
me since our wedding night.
-Linda, what kind
of talk is that?
-Well, how do you want
me to say it, Dad?
That the great Kurt Tester
is unable to get his pathetic
two and a half inches up?
-Linda, you will
not leave this house
until you get a
grip on yourself.
-Oh, just try and stop me, Dad.
-Linda!
LINDA: Let me out!
[knocking]
Let me the fuck out!
-Mom, Dad, Linda's gone.
-What?
-She's gone.
-But I locked the door.
-She jumped out the window.
-Where's the baby?
-She left the stupid
thing with us.
-Oh, Jesus.
[phone ringing]
-Rosie belongs here.
She doesn't deserve her mother.
-Well, we shouldn't
deserve Rosie.
-Hello?
Commander Pappard?
Oh.
Oh yes, Commander.
How are you, sir?
Serious?
How serious?
Well, of course.
I'll be there right away.
-What's going on?
-It seems that Tom has got in a
little trouble at the barracks.
-What kind of trouble?
-Sometimes I think this
is just a bad dream.
-You wish.
-Can I get you a drink?
-Well, it's a little
early, isn't it?
-Depends on what
time you get up.
Mr. Parkinson, this-- this
isn't going to be easy.
Let me preface this by
saying that your son has been
a-- a model of
discipline, courage,
and patriotic devotion.
-Well, if we could just--
get right to the point,
I'm a little anxious as it is.
-Well, he has the highest
IQ of anybody on this base,
bordering on genius.
Or maybe it is genius.
I mean, one can never
measure these things.
-Damn right.
-He's also kind, courteous--
-Uh-huh.
-Clean.
-Uh-huh.
-Honest, aggressive, organized.
Well, two words, he's one hell
of a god damn good sailor.
-So, what's the problem?
-Well, no problem.
No problem whatsoever
until last week,
last Sunday night, actually.
Officer Krupke was
walking along the beach,
and he-- he-- he heard groaning.
-Groaning?
-Groaning, yes.
Behind some rocks.
He went to investigate.
-Uh-huh, yes.
-And he saw-- uh, your son--
-Uh-huh.
-Doing it.
-What?
-It.
-It?
What?
-Do I have to spell it out
for you in black and white?
-Well, no.
I mean, yes.
I mean--
-He was doing it
with Ronnie White.
-Ronnie White.
-Our best black recruit.
-What are you trying to say?
-Well, I'm saying that our
two best sailors are queer.
-Well, I don't believe it.
-Why is that?
-Well, because I know my son,
and I have seen his screwing
girls in the back
of our Infiniti.
-Maybe he's just
a little bisexual.
-Well, that's impossible.
-But they admitted to it.
-Well, there's been a
mistake, that's all.
-Mr. Parkinson, it's not
the end of the world.
Your son, with his
conduct record,
he's going to get-- well, at
least a general discharge.
After all, he didn't
ask, we didn't tell.
Until this.
If you want my
opinion, your son is
going through a
period in his life,
raging hormones, excessive
sexuality, this unrelenting,
this constant erection.
You remember those, baby?
And he's got to
get it out somehow.
And there are no women here,
so he just sort of pops.
Well, you gonna
watch the Super Bowl?
-Uh, when did you start?
-When I was 12.
-12?
Did you-- enjoy it?
-Oh, yeah.
-A lot?
-Mm-hmm.
-You like it?
Would you do it again?
-Sure.
-Uh-huh.
And-- and--
-Yeah?
-This black guy.
-Ronnie.
-You like him?
-Uh-huh.
-A lot?
-Oh, yeah.
-Uh-- just one more thing.
-Hm?
-Did you do it to him?
-It depends on what
you're talking about.
-Are you-- are you a
catcher or a pitcher?
-Totally versatile, Daddy.
-I am your father.
This is disgusting.
-Dad, relax, OK?
Just relax.
What are you doing?
What are you doing?
-Get out.
-What are you doing?
-Out.
That's it.
-You sure you want
me to get out?
-That's it.
I cannot handle this.
Out.
Out.
Don't come back home.
-Dad, I love you.
-This happened in
your own backyard.
But are you sure that
it's my daughter?
-I know the tattoo
on that left buttock.
-How do you know that?
-Bob, I'm married to her.
-Good point.
Why didn't you try
to stop her, hm?
-Bob, it-- it pains
me to tell you this,
but I've lost all respect
for your daughter.
And I don't want her back.
-Well, you know, Kurt, I could
almost sympathize with you.
But after all, she
is my daughter.
-And that's why I devised
a plan, a very precise,
thought out, ingenious
plan, if I do say so myself.
A plan to get her back and
to get ASS in the process.
-Get what?
-Ass.
A-S-S. Allen Supremacist States.
-Pardon me?
-Oy vey, in two words,
the Plebeian hoards
want to take over this country.
-Who are these people?
-These people are more dangerous
than the Commies ever were.
They are here already-- already.
They are amongst us.
-But who are these people?
-You name it.
Minorities of all
colors and persuasions
that want to see the
missionary position white race
weakened, diminished,
and disintegrated.
-Rebellion of the masses.
-Yes.
They are organized
under a banner,
and they are here to destroy us.
And they will if we
don't fight back.
And they've recruited
Linda into their ranks.
-Linda's in the ASS.
GRACE: Bob!
Bob!
Bob!
-What did the doctors say?
-Some virus she
caught at school.
-From the Hispanic teacher.
-Did the doctors says that?
-Well, who else could
she get it from.
-(POSSESSED) [glossolalia].
-What did I tell you?
-[glossolalia].
-She's speaking in tongues.
-This is worse than I thought.
The Koreans are involved.
-Honey, it's Dada.
[roaring]
-We just want to
keep a close eye
on her just in case something
unusual happens again.
We've given her very
strong antibiotics.
There's a 60% chance
they might work.
-And if they don't?
-We may have to pump.
BOTH: Pump?
-Her stomach.
But I'm almost certain
the present treatment
will be effective.
Just go home, have a good sleep.
We'll call you first
thing in the morning.
[baby crying]
-Will you please do something?
-I have tried everything--
super-pacifier,
intravenous Xanax,
Prozac bottles.
She just won't [inaudible].
-She wants her mother.
That's why.
-I don't even blame
Linda for running away.
-Will you get her out of here?
-Oh, out of where?
-The room, the house, the world!
-You know, I can't just--
-Yes, come on, dear.
Come on, honey.
We're leaving.
We're leaving right now.
[crying]
Shut the fuck up!
[crashing]
-Bob, what did you do?
-She'll be quiet for
the rest of the night.
-Bob?
Bob?
I'm sorry to be the
one to tell you this,
but they called me
from the hospital.
-Alice?
-She's disappeared.
-Disappeared?
-What's going on?
-Your daughter,
she's been abducted.
-Oh no.
-Don't worry.
I have some clues
as to who did it.
BOTH: Who?
-Um, what's the name
of that maid you fired?
-Dorothy Parker?
-Who else would want
to harm you that way?
-Oh my god.
-Well, I've been
investigating this since 3
o'clock this morning
when they called me.
I've learned that
Dorothy Parker's
a distant relative
of Ernest Hemingway.
-Who is Ernest Hemingway?
-That black doctor
that asked you
to put your daughter
in his care.
-Oh my god.
-Furthermore, I've learned
that Dorothy's sister, Gertrude
Stein, is the nurse they
put in charge of Alice.
-Oh my god.
It all makes sense.
-So what are we going to do?
-We apprehend them.
We make them talk by
any means necessary.
-But how can we prove?
-As Orange City's
chief of police,
I don't need much proof.
Besides, Dorothy's
already in jail.
As for Hemingway and Stein,
trust me, I have my methods.
-Why is she so relaxed?
-She's had her Liz
Taylor formula.
-What's in it?
-A little Xanax, a little
Prozac, a little Tylenol
and lots of Absolutely.
-Seems to be working.
-Didn't stop her from
defecating, though.
-Good evening.
This is Virginia Woolf
with the Orange News,
and this is what's happening.
A meteor shower has
fallen over Manhattan,
killing over 157,000 people.
Inside sources say
that Barracuda Pictures
have acquired the film rights.
The yet untitled project will be
directed by 13-year-old enfant
terrible Sergei
I-- I-- Ivenstein.
Industry analysts
project a budget
in excess of $300
million for what
is expected to be next summer's
most anticipated B-O-ox office
hit.
[humming]
-I'm getting closer.
-To what?
-A breakthrough.
Unfortunately Dr.
Hemingway passed out
when he was about to confess.
-You let him do that?
-We tried everything-- Chinese
torture, Korean torture,
Filipino torture,
nothing would work.
Nothing.
-And the others?
-You could rip the
skins off their bones,
but they wouldn't talk.
I gotta hand it to them.
They got a strong sense
of tribal loyalty.
-How do you know it was them?
-Who else would it be?
There's lots of other
weirdos out there.
-Well, it can't be the Jews.
It's not like anybody's asking
for money, which tells me
we've got the right
people in the joint.
BOB: Do you have any proof?
-We're getting it.
I've got my best men on it.
BOB: And Linda, what about her?
-Linda.
Right.
[latin music]
-You want to play
with my maracas?
Mamasita!
Muchcha Linda!
Ay, Mamasita!
-The wise man will hear
and will increase learning.
And a man of understanding
shall attain unto the-- Grace.
-(MOANING) Yes, dear?
-What are you doing?
-Giving you a subtle hint.
-I don't get it.
-That video got me so excited.
-How can you be excited when
our little girl is gone?
-One thing's got nothing
to do with the other.
-But she's in danger.
-Don't change the subject.
-This is not the moment, Grace.
-It hasn't been the moment
for five years, dear.
-Well, you haven't been able to
conceive for five years, dear.
-God damn it, I have had it
with your Catholic bullshit.
Sex is not just for procreation.
Sex is a normal, healthy,
irresistible impulse.
-You should go to confession.
-Fuck confession.
I want to get laid.
-How can you talk like that?
-Because I'm a woman, and
I'm tired of my vibrator.
-You have a vibrator?
-I do.
And a shiny black pepper
grinder that Tommy gave me
for my birthday.
-You've been cheating on me
with a black pepper grinder?
-I am tired of letting
opportunities pass me by.
I'm tired of my mid-life
crisis and yours.
I want to live the
youth I never had.
I want to be wanted for
my ass, not my mind.
I want to go out with a swarthy,
brooding, mysterious stranger.
-I don't believe this.
-Father?
I am tormented by the
thought of whether my son is
a pitcher or a catcher.
-Why?
-Well, a catcher is someone
who, you know, gets it.
And a pitcher is still
considered a man, at least
in South America.
-What does it matter?
Queer is queer.
-I just don't want to feel that
it has anything to do with me.
-You shouldn't feel
guilty about it.
It's genetic.
-Exactly.
I got his genes.
He's got mine.
-Is there anything
about you that's
pointing in that direction?
-Well, I saw a porno.
-Yes?
-My daughter was in it.
-Really?
-She was getting it on
with a mariachi band.
-Aha.
-And the worst thing, the
really frightening thing
is that, uh, it turned me on.
-What turned you on exactly?
-Everything-- the breasts,
the moans, the groans.
-The throbbing organs?
-Yes, yes.
I mean, the whole
thing worked me up.
-Well, that is
sort of indicative.
-Indicative of what?
-Certain, you know, deviation.
-No, don't say that.
-Don't worry about it.
A recent report
revealed that 99.7%
of all people over the age of
eight have same sex fantasies.
At least once a week.
-Is that so?
-Tell me about it.
-That makes me feel
so much better.
For a while there, I really
thought that I was turning--
-Into a fruit?
-Yes.
-What about your wife?
Any action on that cunt?
Uh, front?
-Well, she's still
expecting satisfaction.
She seems to be getting
it somewhere else.
-Mm, so she's been
cheating on you?
-I find that I have to be
jealous of a black pepper
grinder.
-A black pepper grinder?
-Yes, and it gets worse.
My son-- now, I may
have been hallucinating,
but the last time
that I saw him,
I got the distinct impression
that he was coming on to me.
-What?
-It troubles me.
And yet--
-So you don't think that
fruits have their rights too?
-They taste better as smoothies.
-Fuck yeah.
Nothing feels better than
the sound of a fag's bones
crushing.
-Bitch!
-I think we got
ourselves a fag here.
-Security!
[rattling]
[latin music]
-Grace, do you have to parade
around half naked at this hour?
-Well, it's hot, honey.
Hot and steamy.
-Grace, please.
[doorbell]
-Any news?
-Not much, but I brought
your mail for you.
Let me open this.
It could be explosive.
It's OK.
Yeah.
[gasping]
-Oh!
-You'll be getting Alice
back in little pieces.
Unless--
-What?
-You give us yo money, yo
home, and you Infiniti.
-My Infiniti?
-And yo home.
-Why us?
Why us?
-You got one of their people
a little upset, remember?
-It can't be Dorothy.
She's still in jail.
-Grace, you don't understand.
Every one of them is in on it.
Every last one of them
is her accomplice.
-Well, what are you
going to do about it?
-This could be the
perfect opportunity
to put Compassionate
Nazism into practice.
-How would that work?
-Bob, you'll lure all
manner of societal
rejects with a pseudo-neoliberal
welfare program.
You round them all
up, you send them off
to work to one of our many
wasted nuclear plants.
And when you get them inside,
you zap them with radiation.
This way you kill two
birds with one stone--
kill all of our
undesirables, and you
put our wasted nuclear
resources back to good use.
-Where does the
compassion come in?
-You put them out
of their misery.
And ours.
-But that won't bring
my daughter back.
We have to do
something immediately.
Let's negotiate with ASS.
Let's make a counter-offer.
-Bob.
-Tommy.
-Hi, Mom.
-I thought I told you
never to come home.
-Dad, the only reason
I'm here is to help you
guys look for Alice.
-I'm sorry.
I cannot allow that.
-Why not?
-I haven't told you
this, but our son
isn't quite what he looks like.
-What do you mean?
-Why don't you tell her, dear?
-Dad, I'm your son.
I'm the same person
I was three days ago.
I love you, and you know it.
-Sorry, I cannot let this man
be a part of our rescue team.
-Why not?
-I can afford to have
my men rubbing shoulders
with someone like him.
-What are you talking about?
-Hello?
The whole world knows
your son is a fag.
-My Tommy?
-So what does that change, huh?
I could perform like
the best of them.
-Not in my camp you won't.
I'm not going to let my
men have any distractions.
-That's assuming your
men can be distracted.
-I don't want to
talk about this.
-You're going to have
to make a choice.
It's either him or me.
-Mom?
Dad?
-Tommy--
-I get it.
-Don't call him Tommy.
-Thomas!
[snapping]
[music playing]
-I'll miss him.
I'll miss him very much.
-I didn't realize
how much I loved him.
-I always did.
I loved him with all my heart.
Now there doesn't seem
to be any reason to live.
God damn it, I just
want to curl up and die.
But I have wonderful,
wonderful memories.
Moments that can
never be repeated.
-Memories?
-I'll never forget the day he
told me he had a crush on me.
He just turned 15.
On you.
-He had a crush on you?
-Oh.
It was before I lost
my hair, you know.
-Are you trying to tell me
that you initiated my son in--
-No, no, no.
I didn't initiate him.
Tommy had been around
since he was 12.
And as his confessor, I'd heard
about his cousins for years.
-I don't believe
what I am hearing.
-We were madly in
love with each other.
We had three unbelievable years.
Then he got restless.
You know how kids
are at that age.
They can't commit.
He wanted to broaden
his horizons.
It broke my heart at first.
But there wasn't anything
I could do about that.
I-- I know that
love is letting go.
At least I remained
his confessor.
I feel I know every
corner of his heart,
every inch of his
beautiful body and soul.
-Is he a catcher or a pitcher?
-I-- a pitcher.
And a catcher.
He was just a wonderful,
well-rounded human being.
-You disgusting piece of filth.
You deserve to die!
-Why?
Because I loved your son?
[struggling]
-Jesus preaches love!
[choking]
-What was that?
BOB: I sent the creep
where he belongs.
-What have you done?
Oh!
[breathing]
-Don't do that.
God knows where
his mouth has been.
-Ouch!
Ouch!
Ouch!
-Row, row, row your boat
gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily,
merrily, life is but a dream.
[moaning]
[chuckling]
[sighing]
-Oh.
-She don't walk no
more, but she can crawl.
If you wants what's
left, give us yo home.
-Maybe we should just, you
know, give them what they want.
-And end up like one of
them, begging in the streets?
-Is that worse than
losing our daughter?
-Think about it, Grace-- I
mean, no bubble bath, no down
pillows, no frozen margaritas.
No shower.
Not even a place to have
a decent bowel movement.
-But if we don't
give them the house--
-I have some leads.
I just need your cooperation.
-Just tell me what to do.
[latin music]
-You want some soap?
-Freeze.
Nobody move.
-Bienvenidos, hermanos.
Mi casa es su casa.
-What the fuck are
you doing here?
-Linda, we've come
to take you home.
-I am not going
back to that dump.
-And what about Rosie?
-I thought you love Rosie.
-Well, we-- we do love Rosie.
But--
-She just shits and screams
a little too much, huh?
-That's not the point.
The point is that you-- you
have abandoned your daughter.
-Well, I'm going to pick
her up when she's older.
I'm just letting you
do the shitty part.
-You are a heartless
and unnatural mother.
-Yes, but I'm with Jesus.
By the way, meet my boyfriend.
-Hi.
I'm (SPANISH) Jesus.
-But you're married to Kurt.
-That pathetic limp thing?
-Watch your tongue, lady.
-The marriage isn't valid.
It was never consummated.
-Oh, yeah?
So where did Rosie
come from, huh?
-Ask Dad.
She's my sister.
She's my mother.
She's my sister.
She's my mother.
-Are you saying that you--
-She's going crazy.
She-- she's losing her mind.
-Oh, look who's talking.
-Young lady, we need
you to come with us.
-Oh, you're kidding.
You're kidding me.
-We have some
questions to ask you.
-About what?
-About your sister, Alice.
-What about her?
-She's disappeared.
-Well, good riddance.
-Is that what these
people have taught
you, to be an uncaring monster?
-I'm not a monster, Dad.
I'm just having a little fun.
Jesus.
-What?
-Nothing.
-We have reason to
believe that you
know something about
her kidnapping.
-Well, why-- why
would I know anything?
-We'll get to that later.
Come with us.
-Uh, no.
I'm not going anywhere.
-Don't force me
to apprehend you.
-Hey, man.
Leave her alone.
She has done nothing to you.
-Speak to me in English.
-Get the fuck out of here.
Is that English enough?
-All right, Linda.
You're coming with us.
-I'm not moving.
-Trust me.
-No, I'm not moving.
-Come on, dear.
Come on.
-Stop it.
No.
-Come on.
-I'm not going anywhere.
-Trust me.
Come on.
-Get out of here.
This is my temple, and you
have no right to be here.
-Hey, Jesus.
-What?
[gunshot]
-Jesus?
-Don't worry.
I'll be back in three days.
-Good evening.
This is Virginia Woolf
with the Orange News,
and here's what's happening.
A fight broke out just an hour
ago at the home of Jesus Loco
Lopest, resulting
in the deaths of 32
people of various
ethnic persuasions.
The small massacre is
believed to be drug related.
I give it to James Joyce.
-Thank you, Virginia.
As you can see, the bodies
are literally still fresh.
There's much confusion about
what actually transpired.
But we have chief of
police and congressman
to be Kurt Tester
here to help clarify.
-Can you make my nose
a little smaller?
-Chief.
-Yeah?
At 9:45 this evening,
Jesus Lopest,
head of the local Lopest gang,
gunned down James Greene,
a member of the Zulu Con Carne
gang over an unpaid crack deal.
Um, one thing led to
another, as things normally
do in cases like these.
And by the time we arrived,
there were over 30 dead bodies.
We also learned that
members of the ASS
have abducted Linda Parkinson,
the only white person found
at Mr. Lopest's house at
the time of the killings.
-Now, isn't this the
same group that's
linked to the abduction
of Alice Parkinson?
-It is indeed.
-Is this a coincidence?
-No, not at all.
The Parkinsons have
been the target
of ruthless acts perpetrated
by the terrorists.
-Who are they exactly?
-I'd rather not
say at this time.
-Thank you, Chief.
I'm James Joyce.
Good night.
-[inaudible].
-Shit, let's wake
the motherfuckers up.
-Hola!
We got a present for you!
-No, don't cry.
I brought you another
piece of Alice!
[screaming]
-On your knees, sucker.
On your knees.
Open your mouth.
Open your mouth.
Wider.
Wider.
Wider.
Nah, you don't deserve it.
-You could have been a little
more discreet, my dear.
-Well, my mother always
said, if you can't avoid it,
just relax and enjoy it.
-It's probably the reason you
turned out the way you did.
-What way is that?
-A pleasure-seeking hedonist.
-That's the trouble
with you, dear.
That's the problem right there.
You simply don't know how to
enjoy the finer things in life.
-Finer?
-Mm.
Alice?
-Describe them to
me as best you can.
-One of them sounded Korean.
Another like he came
from Guadalajara.
The big one sounded black.
-Typical.
This has ASS
written all over it.
-But they were so
cruel, these people.
Why?
-Hatred and resentment
of the white race.
Let's go, boys.
We have work to do.
-One thing didn't
quite fit, though.
-What?
-Those men were white.
-What do you mean white?
-I know they were.
-Well, how could you tell?
I mean, they were all wearing
masks, gloves, and body suits.
-There was definitely something
about them that was white.
-What?
-A very telling
part of the anatomy.
-What are you talking about?
Do I have to spell it
out in black and white?
-Oh.
It was dark.
I-- I mean, how could you tell?
-Oh, it's a question of texture.
And size.
No, it's-- you can't
possibly tell--
-Like, the big one.
The one that was
supposed to be black,
he definitely did not
cut it as a black man.
-What do you mean, dear?
-Well, it just didn't unfurl
the way it was supposed to.
It just didn't feel right.
-How do you know?
-I've read my Freud, dear.
-This stuff about black
men being bigger and better
is just a total bunch of crap.
-Whatever.
I'm just saying this
because, oh, something
didn't make sense.
And we don't want to put the
blame on the wrong people.
-The men that raped
you were all ethnic.
-You can say whatever you like.
Those pricks were white.
-Oh, I can't
believe-- you know, I
thought that she was one of us.
-You're not the one who had to
put up with incompetent men.
-Oh!
-Furthermore, I don't believe
that thing that popped up
in Bob's eggs belongs to Alice.
I know my daughter.
-You're in denial.
-I know Alice is still alive.
I know it.
I know it.
-This is very serious.
Much more serious
than you think.
Now, I advise you not
to leave this house.
I offer you the protection
of my men and my very own.
I recommend that we
barricade this house,
and I will provide you
with weapons, ammunition,
and the means to sustain
yourself for a few weeks.
-A few weeks?
-We have to be prepared
for the worst, Bob.
This is not going to
be a walk in the dark.
-In the dark?
-Park.
-But what do they want?
-The house.
The god damn house.
-No, we can't do that.
-Why not?
-Because-- I don't know.
That where would we go?
-Well, a little street life
would do you good, Mama.
-Bob, it's Linda.
She says they're
making her talk.
Honey, I don't--
-Where are you?
-I can't tell you
that, you moron.
I'm with the guys that got me.
-What did they look like?
-Well, they're wearing
masks, and they've
got really bad accents.
Tell them I'll do anything
they want me to do.
-Well, you better get a
condom and some lube, Dad.
They really want to screw you.
-Me?
Why me?
-I don't know.
Why don't you ask them
when they get there?
-They're coming here?
Oh!
-They're on their
way as we speak.
-Oh my god.
Oh my god.
Oh my god.
Oh my god.
-Hello, this is Virginia
Woolf with the Orange News,
and this is what's
happening now.
New acts of vandalism have
forced Chief of Police Tester
to declare Orange City
in a state of emergency.
By 5:45 this evening,
supermarkets in Orange City
had run out of water,
toilet paper, Q-tips,
and chocolate chip cookies.
[groaning]
-Not since the LA
Riots has there
been such a collective
adrenalin rush
in the population of
Southern California.
The way I see it, a
good emergency kit
is not complete without a
toothbrush, your Bay-Rans,
a strong lubricant, and
whatever else you feel
is necessary to get
you through the ordeal.
-Yes, yes, yes.
Yes.
Yes, there we go.
Yes.
Yes, yes.
Come on.
-Right.
-We don't have time for that.
[speeded speech]
--shame and let them
cover themselves
with their own confusion,
as with a mantle.
I will greatly praise
the Lord with my mouth.
Yea, I will praise him
among the multitude.
-How can you be reading
at a time like this?
-Sorry.
I can't put this down.
-Why?
-Well, it's got everything.
Patricide, infanticide,
adultery, pedophilia,
crap-ophilia.
Listen to this-- Sodomorrah,
13:69-- and Samuel
lay beside his wife and
with his tongue provided her
with unmeasurable pleasures
and assuming multitudinous
configurations brought her
to behold the blissfully
ecstatic beatitudes
of revelation.
-What did I do to deserve this?
Hello?
Hello?
Is anybody there?
You omnipresent pain
in the ass, where's
your eternal kindness,
your infinite compassion?
Why you doing this to me?
I'm a nice guy.
I'm a very nice guy.
[moaning]
-I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I won't scream at you again
if you just stop this.
I promise, I'll hug my kids.
I'll be nice to Dorothy.
I won't feel latently superior
to members of minorities.
I'll even fuck my wife.
[moaning]
-God!
-Jesus!
-What the hell?
-Yes?
You ain't seen nothing yet.
-Grace.
Grace.
Grace.
How'd this all happen, Grace?
-Very simple, my friend.
Remember that accident
on Easter Sunday?
-Yes.
-That's when the bearded one up
there told me I could get you.
-And this is--
-Uh-huh.
-And you are--
-Who else?
-Where's my family?
-Oh, they're all around.
Perfect little family.
And Alice, adorable
little Alice--
-Alice!
-Come on, Bob.
Don't be so fucking sensitive.
Listen.
This could be the best thing
that ever happened to you.
I'll show you around.
-Go on, Bob.
You wouldn't believe how
many people I've met here.
This place is packed
with celebrities.
-I guarantee you'll have
more fun here than you ever
imagined.
The sexiest people come here.
Maybe you won't have
to jerk off anymore.
-Go.
ALICE: Daddy?
Daddy, wake up, Daddy.
LINDA: Here you go.
Hi, Dad.
-Mommy told me to tell you that
the guests are about to arrive.
-Honey, I am so
happy to see you.
Oh!
Oh my-- my big girl.
Oh, you look fabulous.
And precious.
Oh, Jesus.
Love the tan.
-Mr. Parkinson, Mrs.
Aditto is looking for you.
-Dorothy!
It's Dorothy.
Oh, Dorothy.
Oh-- [kiss].
Oh, Dorothy.
Oh!
You're gonna cook a good
meal for us, Dorothy.
I know it.
-It's wonderful to be with
you here on Easter Sunday.
And I would just
like to make a toast
to my beautiful, wonderful wife
Linda without whom I would not
be here today.
L'chaim!
-L'chaim!
-Where is Linda?
-Last time I saw her,
she was talking to Jesus.
-Mm, Tom!
-Hello.
Dad.
Everyone, this is Ronnie.
-I've heard so much about you.
-So have I.
-Shalom.
-Ronnie.
Good to see you.
So, would you like a drink?
A little champagne?
-I'll get the glasses.
-More glasses.
More [inaudible].
Please take off your cap.
[chuckling]
-The turtle says to the
rabbit, what took you so long?
Oh, you like that one, do you?
It's better than the last one.
Wait, wait, here's another one.
The rabbit, the turtle, and
the snail all go to heaven.
You like this one, right?
The turtle says to the rabbit.
What took you so long?
-That's it.
I'm quitting.
I'm getting out of
this wretched place.
-What, why?
-Why?
Because I can't stand
your bland jokes anymore.
And I can't take your
constant banal chattering
and your relentlessly
trivial gibberish.
I need some intellectual
stimulation.
-Well, that's something I
could use a bit more of myself.
Intellectual stimulation.
-Well, have a nice, boring life.
-What-- what was that about?
Father, you know
this joke, right,
with the turtle and the snail?
I mean, it's a very--
-Shut up, Kurt.
Your jokes aren't funny.
They just aren't funny at all.
-Bob, dear, would you
pass the pepper grinder?
-Allow me.
-Thank you.
-Shit.
-Hi, Dad.
Oh.
Here you go.
[door handle jiggling]
FEMALE SPEAKER: What's this?
Who locked the door?
Not again.
Bob!
Bob!
Bob!
Bob, dear, you locked us out.
-What?
-This is the third
time this week, honey.
-I did no such thing, honey.
-Well, who did then?
-I don't know.
Someone.
Not me.
-Darling, you have got
to get started again
with your ginkgo biloba.
-I didn't do it, honey.
-Well, what do we do now?
I need to get ready.
Tommy is going to
be here any minute.
-Don't call him Tommy.
You know he doesn't like that.
-OK.
Thomas.
Whatever.
You know, the locksmith is going
to think we are going senile.
-Hello?
-Tommy!
Oh, my little Tommy.
BOB: Don't call him Tommy.
-Oh, it's OK, Dad.
-Son.
Good to see you.
-Good to see you.
-God, it's been so long.
-Hey.
Did you say hello
to your big brother?
-Hi.
-What kind of welcome is that?
Come here and give
me a hug, huh?
Oh!
-Guess what.
-What?
-Kurt and Linda are
here with the baby.
-How is the baby?
-Most adorable
thing you ever saw.
-She's grotesque.
-Grace.
Well, can I get
everyone a drink?
Yeah?
Good.
-So how are things
at the barracks?
-Kurt, Amy's the best thing
that's ever happened to me,
hands down.
-Not a little too
rough for you, son?
-Ain't rough enough.
I'm ready to lick ass.
-Pardon me.
-I'm ready to kick ass, Dad.
-Son, I'm proud of you.
-I hear how popular you are
among the San Diego chicks.
-Oh, that's all rumor
and exaggeration.
So how's the old
congressman been?
-Not so bad.
Yesterday I got half of
Orange City into a frenzy.
My compassionate
Nazism speech seems
to have struck a chord here.
-Compassionate what?
-Don't look at me
like that, Bob.
I'm a populist at heart.
I'm just waiting for the
right mop to come along.
-And what kind of
mop would that be?
-Financially potent,
well traveled.
-That eliminates about
93% of all Americans.
-Damn right.
Do we want to end up like
those peasants in Cuba,
wiping their asses with lettuce?
-You know, Kurt, you
should be running
the NRA or the CIA or MGM.
-Thanks.
GRACE: Ahh!
Bob!
-Here we go.
GRACE: Dear god.
-What happened?
-Oh, my ring, my ring, my ring--
-What ring?
-Jackie O's ring-- the one
we bought at the auction.
-What happened?
-It disappeared.
-How?
-Somebody stole it?
-Who?
-How should I know?
-Mom, I thought you
said it was a fake.
-Yes, but it's Jackie O's
fake, and we paid a ff--
bloody fortune for it.
-Well, now, let's
just look around.
Maybe it fell down or something.
-No.
It was in the box, I know it.
I saw it there.
Yes, this morning.
-Dad.
I think I know who did it.
-How could you?
How could you, after
all we've done for you?
-I told you.
I am not the proper target
of your unfounded accusation.
-I suppose that ring
just miraculously
appeared in your purse.
-My mind is incapable of
such abhorrent comportment.
-Do you realize,
Dorothy, that you
committed not one
but two mortal sins.
-Mr. Parkinson, I am not
guilty of the crime you're
implying I perpetrated,
may the Lord be my witness.
-Now, don't take the Lord's
name in vain, Dorothy.
You lied, you stole, you
betrayed our trust in you.
-No wonder.
She was always listening to NPR.
-Dad.
-Yes?
-It's Easter Sunday.
-So?
-Don't you think you could
show a little compassion?
-You think this woman
deserves compassion?
-Well, didn't Jesus
forgive Mary Magdalene?
-Don't you Mary
Madeleine me, young man.
-Look, all I'm saying
is that I think
Dorothy's been
punished enough, and I
think she's sorry
for what she's done.
-You don't seem
to realize that I
am far above your
petty, bourgeois, inane,
and insipid thought processes.
-I have just about had it
with your Yoruba mumbo-jumbo.
-Dorothy, I'm sorry, but
I feel that I have a duty.
I have a moral and civil duty
to turn you over to the law.
And as far as the
Lord is concerned,
you're just going to have to
deal with him in due time.
-Bob, you're being far too kind.
As Orange City's
chief of police,
I'm placing you under arrest.
-Cocksucker!
-Yeah, this is Chief Tester.
I need six squad cars, two
fire trucks, three helicopters,
a Big Mac and fries,
at 666 North Moron.
No, I've already
apprehended the perpetrator.
Just get here.
-You got enough
backup there, Kurt?
-I know what I'm
doing, young man.
I want to make a
statement with this.
Oh, shoot.
-What?
-I forgot to tell them
to super size the fries.
-So Satan smirks [inaudible]
all of them and goes,
got you, suckers.
[chuckling]
-So what were you saying?
-You treat these people
well, and what do they do?
They steal you blind.
-I mean, I know they've been
victims for hundreds of years,
but is that our fault, hm?
-The question is where have
all the real Americans gone?
-Oh honey, I don't
think there is
such a thing as a real American.
We're all a little mixed up
one way or another, right?
-Not me.
I can trace my ancestry
all the way back to Moses.
I mean the Mayflower.
-Isn't that the
ship that came over
from England full of
convicts and rejects?
-Could you pass
the pepper, dear?
-Oh, wow.
This is beautiful.
What is this?
-It's pumpkin soup.
It's my own recipe.
-So how are things down
at the precinct, Kurt?
-You know, it's getting a
little too small for me there.
-Like I told you, you should
be running this country.
-Yeah, well, personally
I think that I
would do a lot better job than
that liberal retard in the Oval
Orifice.
-I hear that he's--
-A fruit.
-This is not for
little girls, dear.
-A homo.
-Sh.
-Alice.
-Well, you have to admit, they
make wonderful ice skaters.
-Please don't spoil my appetite.
-Oh.
All right.
Good.
BOB: Pardon my
Ebonics, dear, but what
the fuck did you
put in the soup?
-I saw Dorothy putting some
weird powder in the salt
container before she left.
-Rat poison!
-Oh, god.
[coughing and gagging]
-For I want you to
consider that hell is not
only the abyss into which
we may fall at any moment
when the Lord decides
it is our time
to go but a sempiternal reality.
And Satan, a relentlessly
persistent presence
in every single moment
of our daily lives--
[chuckling]
--forget, my devoted
friends, that hell
can be the workplace,
the playground, even
our very own home.
-Father, I haven't been
performing my marital duties
recently.
-Are you ready to
procreate again?
-No, no, no.
-Well, then, you shouldn't
be doing it anyway.
-Except my wife has--
well, you know, needs.
-I think you should advise
your wife to confess.
It is she who is sinful.
-Except have certain thoughts
about-- about other people.
-Are you are acting
upon these thoughts?
-In a certain way.
-In what way?
-I, uh-- I touch myself.
-You masturbate?
-Yes.
-How many times?
-Oh, four or five times a day.
-What are these thoughts?
-I have a dream.
It's a reoccurring dream.
-Yes.
-There's always a woman.
And, uh, two men.
-What are they doing?
-It's just too filthy.
I mean, it's just too
filthy to talk about.
-Now, now, now, it's all right.
I'm here to help
you through this.
What exactly do you think about?
-Well, the woman's, you know--
-Yes.
-And the men's
buttocks thrusting.
-Yes.
-Their bulging, throbbing--
-Organs?
-Yes.
-Dad, if Dorothy died today,
and she hadn't confessed,
would she go straight to hell?
-Absolutely.
Stealing is one of
the seven deadly sins.
-Then all Mexicans go to hell?
-Why do you say that?
-Because they come here
stealing people's jobs.
-(CHUCKLING) Honey,
you are a genius.
-The reverend said that
hell could be anywhere.
-Well, I'm glad you were
paying attention, dear.
-Even our homes.
-Yes.
-And that the devil
could be anyone.
-Well, sort of.
-So Rosie could be the devil.
-Alice, how can you say that?
Rosie is a little angel.
-I think she's execrable.
-She is not.
She's adorable.
-She makes that face
when she's pooping.
-Stop it.
You're just jealous.
-Look!
[screaming]
-Bob?
Bob?
Bob?
Bob?
Can you hear me?
Oh, you're back, honey.
You're back.
BOB: Back from where?
-Wherever it is that you were.
-From the depths of
your subconscious.
BOB: How long was I gone?
-Three months.
BOB: What?
-Yes, it'll be three
months on Monday.
Three horrible, horrible months.
-Don't let it upset you.
Everything is
going to be OK-K-K.
BOB: What happened?
-We were in an accident, dear.
A terrible accident.
BOB: Alice.
-Oh, she's fine, honey.
She's fine.
-Oh, my head!
-They had to operate.
-Did I lose any--
-Grey matter?
-Well, a teensy
little bit, honey.
-Nothing that a little advanced
pharmacology cannot fix.
You will take these
pills with breakfast,
and you will take
these with dinner.
-What are they for?
-These are to wake up.
These are to go to sleep.
These will give you
very vivid dreams.
And you might feel a
little confused at times.
-Confused about what?
-What is real and what is not.
-Oh.
-Nothing to worry about.
-Uh-- what about nightmares?
-If you have nightmares,
and you will,
you will take the
turquoise ones.
But they might give you
little hallucinations.
-Hallucinations?
-You know, you lost
the part of the brain
that contains reality principal.
So the ether is very fragile.
Any stimulus can trigger
the subconscious to erupt.
Impulses that were kept
in control before may be,
so to speak, unleashed.
Basic, primitive instincts
could turn into projections.
Anger, prejudices, secret
fears, repressed desires,
could turn into graphic,
palpable experiences.
[knocking]
-Yes?
MALE SPEAKER: Your
5 o'clock is here.
-I'll be there in a second.
-But how will I
know what's what?
-Oh, you'll get the hang of it.
Sorry.
My next patient is here.
[baby crying]
LINDA: Shut up, you
little blood-sucker.
-Linda, here?
[baby crying]
-Linda?
-Hi.
-What are you doing here, honey?
-Cleaning the little
fucker's ass, as usual.
-Linda.
What kind of language is that?
-It's the only kind
of talk you can
use when you are surrounded
by heaps of caca.
-Linda.
Linda, I hardly recognize you.
-I can hardly
recognize you, Dad.
You looked fucked up.
-I was in an accident, honey.
I've been in the hospital.
I-- I had this--
-You had an operation.
Well, I just hope that you
have enough brain cells left
to calm down your
out-of-control wife?
-What's she talking
about, honey?
-Ugh!
Shut up.
-Come on.
We're gonna go have a chat.
She's just a little
stressed out.
Things have changed
somewhat around here.
You see, dear, she--
she hasn't been the same
since she left Kurt.
-What?
She left Kurt?
-Mm.
-But why?
-I don't know.
Something about martial duties.
BOB: What do you mean?
-Well, apparently he wasn't
getting her satisfied.
-That's a reason to
leave your husband?
-It was for her.
-Well, I can't believe
what I'm hearing.
-Well, apparently girls today
are not what they used to be.
-Well, she's got to
get back to Kurt.
-She won't.
Believe me.
I've tried.
-That's-- that's--
-Look, we're going to
just leave her alone.
She will come back
to her senses.
-You see, that's what we got
from the '60s-- women expecting
orgasms.
-Well, I must say, dear, I see
nothing wrong with wanting one.
-Have you turned into
a feminist, dear?
-No.
Just an ordinary,
garden variety female.
-Things have
changed around here.
REVEREND (ON TV): He who
dies in mortal sin is
subject to the eternal
sufferings of damnation.
My beloved flock, let us
meditate on these holy words.
For it is only the
soul that is cleansed
that can be welcomed
into the fold.
-What's going on?
-Hi, Dad.
-Who was that?
-My boyfriend.
-You can't have a boyfriend.
-Well, I do.
-But you're married.
-Dad, I think even
the pope would
agree that our marriage
should be annulled.
I mean, the guy hasn't fucked
me since our wedding night.
-Linda, what kind
of talk is that?
-Well, how do you want
me to say it, Dad?
That the great Kurt Tester
is unable to get his pathetic
two and a half inches up?
-Linda, you will
not leave this house
until you get a
grip on yourself.
-Oh, just try and stop me, Dad.
-Linda!
LINDA: Let me out!
[knocking]
Let me the fuck out!
-Mom, Dad, Linda's gone.
-What?
-She's gone.
-But I locked the door.
-She jumped out the window.
-Where's the baby?
-She left the stupid
thing with us.
-Oh, Jesus.
[phone ringing]
-Rosie belongs here.
She doesn't deserve her mother.
-Well, we shouldn't
deserve Rosie.
-Hello?
Commander Pappard?
Oh.
Oh yes, Commander.
How are you, sir?
Serious?
How serious?
Well, of course.
I'll be there right away.
-What's going on?
-It seems that Tom has got in a
little trouble at the barracks.
-What kind of trouble?
-Sometimes I think this
is just a bad dream.
-You wish.
-Can I get you a drink?
-Well, it's a little
early, isn't it?
-Depends on what
time you get up.
Mr. Parkinson, this-- this
isn't going to be easy.
Let me preface this by
saying that your son has been
a-- a model of
discipline, courage,
and patriotic devotion.
-Well, if we could just--
get right to the point,
I'm a little anxious as it is.
-Well, he has the highest
IQ of anybody on this base,
bordering on genius.
Or maybe it is genius.
I mean, one can never
measure these things.
-Damn right.
-He's also kind, courteous--
-Uh-huh.
-Clean.
-Uh-huh.
-Honest, aggressive, organized.
Well, two words, he's one hell
of a god damn good sailor.
-So, what's the problem?
-Well, no problem.
No problem whatsoever
until last week,
last Sunday night, actually.
Officer Krupke was
walking along the beach,
and he-- he-- he heard groaning.
-Groaning?
-Groaning, yes.
Behind some rocks.
He went to investigate.
-Uh-huh, yes.
-And he saw-- uh, your son--
-Uh-huh.
-Doing it.
-What?
-It.
-It?
What?
-Do I have to spell it out
for you in black and white?
-Well, no.
I mean, yes.
I mean--
-He was doing it
with Ronnie White.
-Ronnie White.
-Our best black recruit.
-What are you trying to say?
-Well, I'm saying that our
two best sailors are queer.
-Well, I don't believe it.
-Why is that?
-Well, because I know my son,
and I have seen his screwing
girls in the back
of our Infiniti.
-Maybe he's just
a little bisexual.
-Well, that's impossible.
-But they admitted to it.
-Well, there's been a
mistake, that's all.
-Mr. Parkinson, it's not
the end of the world.
Your son, with his
conduct record,
he's going to get-- well, at
least a general discharge.
After all, he didn't
ask, we didn't tell.
Until this.
If you want my
opinion, your son is
going through a
period in his life,
raging hormones, excessive
sexuality, this unrelenting,
this constant erection.
You remember those, baby?
And he's got to
get it out somehow.
And there are no women here,
so he just sort of pops.
Well, you gonna
watch the Super Bowl?
-Uh, when did you start?
-When I was 12.
-12?
Did you-- enjoy it?
-Oh, yeah.
-A lot?
-Mm-hmm.
-You like it?
Would you do it again?
-Sure.
-Uh-huh.
And-- and--
-Yeah?
-This black guy.
-Ronnie.
-You like him?
-Uh-huh.
-A lot?
-Oh, yeah.
-Uh-- just one more thing.
-Hm?
-Did you do it to him?
-It depends on what
you're talking about.
-Are you-- are you a
catcher or a pitcher?
-Totally versatile, Daddy.
-I am your father.
This is disgusting.
-Dad, relax, OK?
Just relax.
What are you doing?
What are you doing?
-Get out.
-What are you doing?
-Out.
That's it.
-You sure you want
me to get out?
-That's it.
I cannot handle this.
Out.
Out.
Don't come back home.
-Dad, I love you.
-This happened in
your own backyard.
But are you sure that
it's my daughter?
-I know the tattoo
on that left buttock.
-How do you know that?
-Bob, I'm married to her.
-Good point.
Why didn't you try
to stop her, hm?
-Bob, it-- it pains
me to tell you this,
but I've lost all respect
for your daughter.
And I don't want her back.
-Well, you know, Kurt, I could
almost sympathize with you.
But after all, she
is my daughter.
-And that's why I devised
a plan, a very precise,
thought out, ingenious
plan, if I do say so myself.
A plan to get her back and
to get ASS in the process.
-Get what?
-Ass.
A-S-S. Allen Supremacist States.
-Pardon me?
-Oy vey, in two words,
the Plebeian hoards
want to take over this country.
-Who are these people?
-These people are more dangerous
than the Commies ever were.
They are here already-- already.
They are amongst us.
-But who are these people?
-You name it.
Minorities of all
colors and persuasions
that want to see the
missionary position white race
weakened, diminished,
and disintegrated.
-Rebellion of the masses.
-Yes.
They are organized
under a banner,
and they are here to destroy us.
And they will if we
don't fight back.
And they've recruited
Linda into their ranks.
-Linda's in the ASS.
GRACE: Bob!
Bob!
Bob!
-What did the doctors say?
-Some virus she
caught at school.
-From the Hispanic teacher.
-Did the doctors says that?
-Well, who else could
she get it from.
-(POSSESSED) [glossolalia].
-What did I tell you?
-[glossolalia].
-She's speaking in tongues.
-This is worse than I thought.
The Koreans are involved.
-Honey, it's Dada.
[roaring]
-We just want to
keep a close eye
on her just in case something
unusual happens again.
We've given her very
strong antibiotics.
There's a 60% chance
they might work.
-And if they don't?
-We may have to pump.
BOTH: Pump?
-Her stomach.
But I'm almost certain
the present treatment
will be effective.
Just go home, have a good sleep.
We'll call you first
thing in the morning.
[baby crying]
-Will you please do something?
-I have tried everything--
super-pacifier,
intravenous Xanax,
Prozac bottles.
She just won't [inaudible].
-She wants her mother.
That's why.
-I don't even blame
Linda for running away.
-Will you get her out of here?
-Oh, out of where?
-The room, the house, the world!
-You know, I can't just--
-Yes, come on, dear.
Come on, honey.
We're leaving.
We're leaving right now.
[crying]
Shut the fuck up!
[crashing]
-Bob, what did you do?
-She'll be quiet for
the rest of the night.
-Bob?
Bob?
I'm sorry to be the
one to tell you this,
but they called me
from the hospital.
-Alice?
-She's disappeared.
-Disappeared?
-What's going on?
-Your daughter,
she's been abducted.
-Oh no.
-Don't worry.
I have some clues
as to who did it.
BOTH: Who?
-Um, what's the name
of that maid you fired?
-Dorothy Parker?
-Who else would want
to harm you that way?
-Oh my god.
-Well, I've been
investigating this since 3
o'clock this morning
when they called me.
I've learned that
Dorothy Parker's
a distant relative
of Ernest Hemingway.
-Who is Ernest Hemingway?
-That black doctor
that asked you
to put your daughter
in his care.
-Oh my god.
-Furthermore, I've learned
that Dorothy's sister, Gertrude
Stein, is the nurse they
put in charge of Alice.
-Oh my god.
It all makes sense.
-So what are we going to do?
-We apprehend them.
We make them talk by
any means necessary.
-But how can we prove?
-As Orange City's
chief of police,
I don't need much proof.
Besides, Dorothy's
already in jail.
As for Hemingway and Stein,
trust me, I have my methods.
-Why is she so relaxed?
-She's had her Liz
Taylor formula.
-What's in it?
-A little Xanax, a little
Prozac, a little Tylenol
and lots of Absolutely.
-Seems to be working.
-Didn't stop her from
defecating, though.
-Good evening.
This is Virginia Woolf
with the Orange News,
and this is what's happening.
A meteor shower has
fallen over Manhattan,
killing over 157,000 people.
Inside sources say
that Barracuda Pictures
have acquired the film rights.
The yet untitled project will be
directed by 13-year-old enfant
terrible Sergei
I-- I-- Ivenstein.
Industry analysts
project a budget
in excess of $300
million for what
is expected to be next summer's
most anticipated B-O-ox office
hit.
[humming]
-I'm getting closer.
-To what?
-A breakthrough.
Unfortunately Dr.
Hemingway passed out
when he was about to confess.
-You let him do that?
-We tried everything-- Chinese
torture, Korean torture,
Filipino torture,
nothing would work.
Nothing.
-And the others?
-You could rip the
skins off their bones,
but they wouldn't talk.
I gotta hand it to them.
They got a strong sense
of tribal loyalty.
-How do you know it was them?
-Who else would it be?
There's lots of other
weirdos out there.
-Well, it can't be the Jews.
It's not like anybody's asking
for money, which tells me
we've got the right
people in the joint.
BOB: Do you have any proof?
-We're getting it.
I've got my best men on it.
BOB: And Linda, what about her?
-Linda.
Right.
[latin music]
-You want to play
with my maracas?
Mamasita!
Muchcha Linda!
Ay, Mamasita!
-The wise man will hear
and will increase learning.
And a man of understanding
shall attain unto the-- Grace.
-(MOANING) Yes, dear?
-What are you doing?
-Giving you a subtle hint.
-I don't get it.
-That video got me so excited.
-How can you be excited when
our little girl is gone?
-One thing's got nothing
to do with the other.
-But she's in danger.
-Don't change the subject.
-This is not the moment, Grace.
-It hasn't been the moment
for five years, dear.
-Well, you haven't been able to
conceive for five years, dear.
-God damn it, I have had it
with your Catholic bullshit.
Sex is not just for procreation.
Sex is a normal, healthy,
irresistible impulse.
-You should go to confession.
-Fuck confession.
I want to get laid.
-How can you talk like that?
-Because I'm a woman, and
I'm tired of my vibrator.
-You have a vibrator?
-I do.
And a shiny black pepper
grinder that Tommy gave me
for my birthday.
-You've been cheating on me
with a black pepper grinder?
-I am tired of letting
opportunities pass me by.
I'm tired of my mid-life
crisis and yours.
I want to live the
youth I never had.
I want to be wanted for
my ass, not my mind.
I want to go out with a swarthy,
brooding, mysterious stranger.
-I don't believe this.
-Father?
I am tormented by the
thought of whether my son is
a pitcher or a catcher.
-Why?
-Well, a catcher is someone
who, you know, gets it.
And a pitcher is still
considered a man, at least
in South America.
-What does it matter?
Queer is queer.
-I just don't want to feel that
it has anything to do with me.
-You shouldn't feel
guilty about it.
It's genetic.
-Exactly.
I got his genes.
He's got mine.
-Is there anything
about you that's
pointing in that direction?
-Well, I saw a porno.
-Yes?
-My daughter was in it.
-Really?
-She was getting it on
with a mariachi band.
-Aha.
-And the worst thing, the
really frightening thing
is that, uh, it turned me on.
-What turned you on exactly?
-Everything-- the breasts,
the moans, the groans.
-The throbbing organs?
-Yes, yes.
I mean, the whole
thing worked me up.
-Well, that is
sort of indicative.
-Indicative of what?
-Certain, you know, deviation.
-No, don't say that.
-Don't worry about it.
A recent report
revealed that 99.7%
of all people over the age of
eight have same sex fantasies.
At least once a week.
-Is that so?
-Tell me about it.
-That makes me feel
so much better.
For a while there, I really
thought that I was turning--
-Into a fruit?
-Yes.
-What about your wife?
Any action on that cunt?
Uh, front?
-Well, she's still
expecting satisfaction.
She seems to be getting
it somewhere else.
-Mm, so she's been
cheating on you?
-I find that I have to be
jealous of a black pepper
grinder.
-A black pepper grinder?
-Yes, and it gets worse.
My son-- now, I may
have been hallucinating,
but the last time
that I saw him,
I got the distinct impression
that he was coming on to me.
-What?
-It troubles me.
And yet--
-So you don't think that
fruits have their rights too?
-They taste better as smoothies.
-Fuck yeah.
Nothing feels better than
the sound of a fag's bones
crushing.
-Bitch!
-I think we got
ourselves a fag here.
-Security!
[rattling]
[latin music]
-Grace, do you have to parade
around half naked at this hour?
-Well, it's hot, honey.
Hot and steamy.
-Grace, please.
[doorbell]
-Any news?
-Not much, but I brought
your mail for you.
Let me open this.
It could be explosive.
It's OK.
Yeah.
[gasping]
-Oh!
-You'll be getting Alice
back in little pieces.
Unless--
-What?
-You give us yo money, yo
home, and you Infiniti.
-My Infiniti?
-And yo home.
-Why us?
Why us?
-You got one of their people
a little upset, remember?
-It can't be Dorothy.
She's still in jail.
-Grace, you don't understand.
Every one of them is in on it.
Every last one of them
is her accomplice.
-Well, what are you
going to do about it?
-This could be the
perfect opportunity
to put Compassionate
Nazism into practice.
-How would that work?
-Bob, you'll lure all
manner of societal
rejects with a pseudo-neoliberal
welfare program.
You round them all
up, you send them off
to work to one of our many
wasted nuclear plants.
And when you get them inside,
you zap them with radiation.
This way you kill two
birds with one stone--
kill all of our
undesirables, and you
put our wasted nuclear
resources back to good use.
-Where does the
compassion come in?
-You put them out
of their misery.
And ours.
-But that won't bring
my daughter back.
We have to do
something immediately.
Let's negotiate with ASS.
Let's make a counter-offer.
-Bob.
-Tommy.
-Hi, Mom.
-I thought I told you
never to come home.
-Dad, the only reason
I'm here is to help you
guys look for Alice.
-I'm sorry.
I cannot allow that.
-Why not?
-I haven't told you
this, but our son
isn't quite what he looks like.
-What do you mean?
-Why don't you tell her, dear?
-Dad, I'm your son.
I'm the same person
I was three days ago.
I love you, and you know it.
-Sorry, I cannot let this man
be a part of our rescue team.
-Why not?
-I can afford to have
my men rubbing shoulders
with someone like him.
-What are you talking about?
-Hello?
The whole world knows
your son is a fag.
-My Tommy?
-So what does that change, huh?
I could perform like
the best of them.
-Not in my camp you won't.
I'm not going to let my
men have any distractions.
-That's assuming your
men can be distracted.
-I don't want to
talk about this.
-You're going to have
to make a choice.
It's either him or me.
-Mom?
Dad?
-Tommy--
-I get it.
-Don't call him Tommy.
-Thomas!
[snapping]
[music playing]
-I'll miss him.
I'll miss him very much.
-I didn't realize
how much I loved him.
-I always did.
I loved him with all my heart.
Now there doesn't seem
to be any reason to live.
God damn it, I just
want to curl up and die.
But I have wonderful,
wonderful memories.
Moments that can
never be repeated.
-Memories?
-I'll never forget the day he
told me he had a crush on me.
He just turned 15.
On you.
-He had a crush on you?
-Oh.
It was before I lost
my hair, you know.
-Are you trying to tell me
that you initiated my son in--
-No, no, no.
I didn't initiate him.
Tommy had been around
since he was 12.
And as his confessor, I'd heard
about his cousins for years.
-I don't believe
what I am hearing.
-We were madly in
love with each other.
We had three unbelievable years.
Then he got restless.
You know how kids
are at that age.
They can't commit.
He wanted to broaden
his horizons.
It broke my heart at first.
But there wasn't anything
I could do about that.
I-- I know that
love is letting go.
At least I remained
his confessor.
I feel I know every
corner of his heart,
every inch of his
beautiful body and soul.
-Is he a catcher or a pitcher?
-I-- a pitcher.
And a catcher.
He was just a wonderful,
well-rounded human being.
-You disgusting piece of filth.
You deserve to die!
-Why?
Because I loved your son?
[struggling]
-Jesus preaches love!
[choking]
-What was that?
BOB: I sent the creep
where he belongs.
-What have you done?
Oh!
[breathing]
-Don't do that.
God knows where
his mouth has been.
-Ouch!
Ouch!
Ouch!
-Row, row, row your boat
gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily,
merrily, life is but a dream.
[moaning]
[chuckling]
[sighing]
-Oh.
-She don't walk no
more, but she can crawl.
If you wants what's
left, give us yo home.
-Maybe we should just, you
know, give them what they want.
-And end up like one of
them, begging in the streets?
-Is that worse than
losing our daughter?
-Think about it, Grace-- I
mean, no bubble bath, no down
pillows, no frozen margaritas.
No shower.
Not even a place to have
a decent bowel movement.
-But if we don't
give them the house--
-I have some leads.
I just need your cooperation.
-Just tell me what to do.
[latin music]
-You want some soap?
-Freeze.
Nobody move.
-Bienvenidos, hermanos.
Mi casa es su casa.
-What the fuck are
you doing here?
-Linda, we've come
to take you home.
-I am not going
back to that dump.
-And what about Rosie?
-I thought you love Rosie.
-Well, we-- we do love Rosie.
But--
-She just shits and screams
a little too much, huh?
-That's not the point.
The point is that you-- you
have abandoned your daughter.
-Well, I'm going to pick
her up when she's older.
I'm just letting you
do the shitty part.
-You are a heartless
and unnatural mother.
-Yes, but I'm with Jesus.
By the way, meet my boyfriend.
-Hi.
I'm (SPANISH) Jesus.
-But you're married to Kurt.
-That pathetic limp thing?
-Watch your tongue, lady.
-The marriage isn't valid.
It was never consummated.
-Oh, yeah?
So where did Rosie
come from, huh?
-Ask Dad.
She's my sister.
She's my mother.
She's my sister.
She's my mother.
-Are you saying that you--
-She's going crazy.
She-- she's losing her mind.
-Oh, look who's talking.
-Young lady, we need
you to come with us.
-Oh, you're kidding.
You're kidding me.
-We have some
questions to ask you.
-About what?
-About your sister, Alice.
-What about her?
-She's disappeared.
-Well, good riddance.
-Is that what these
people have taught
you, to be an uncaring monster?
-I'm not a monster, Dad.
I'm just having a little fun.
Jesus.
-What?
-Nothing.
-We have reason to
believe that you
know something about
her kidnapping.
-Well, why-- why
would I know anything?
-We'll get to that later.
Come with us.
-Uh, no.
I'm not going anywhere.
-Don't force me
to apprehend you.
-Hey, man.
Leave her alone.
She has done nothing to you.
-Speak to me in English.
-Get the fuck out of here.
Is that English enough?
-All right, Linda.
You're coming with us.
-I'm not moving.
-Trust me.
-No, I'm not moving.
-Come on, dear.
Come on.
-Stop it.
No.
-Come on.
-I'm not going anywhere.
-Trust me.
Come on.
-Get out of here.
This is my temple, and you
have no right to be here.
-Hey, Jesus.
-What?
[gunshot]
-Jesus?
-Don't worry.
I'll be back in three days.
-Good evening.
This is Virginia Woolf
with the Orange News,
and here's what's happening.
A fight broke out just an hour
ago at the home of Jesus Loco
Lopest, resulting
in the deaths of 32
people of various
ethnic persuasions.
The small massacre is
believed to be drug related.
I give it to James Joyce.
-Thank you, Virginia.
As you can see, the bodies
are literally still fresh.
There's much confusion about
what actually transpired.
But we have chief of
police and congressman
to be Kurt Tester
here to help clarify.
-Can you make my nose
a little smaller?
-Chief.
-Yeah?
At 9:45 this evening,
Jesus Lopest,
head of the local Lopest gang,
gunned down James Greene,
a member of the Zulu Con Carne
gang over an unpaid crack deal.
Um, one thing led to
another, as things normally
do in cases like these.
And by the time we arrived,
there were over 30 dead bodies.
We also learned that
members of the ASS
have abducted Linda Parkinson,
the only white person found
at Mr. Lopest's house at
the time of the killings.
-Now, isn't this the
same group that's
linked to the abduction
of Alice Parkinson?
-It is indeed.
-Is this a coincidence?
-No, not at all.
The Parkinsons have
been the target
of ruthless acts perpetrated
by the terrorists.
-Who are they exactly?
-I'd rather not
say at this time.
-Thank you, Chief.
I'm James Joyce.
Good night.
-[inaudible].
-Shit, let's wake
the motherfuckers up.
-Hola!
We got a present for you!
-No, don't cry.
I brought you another
piece of Alice!
[screaming]
-On your knees, sucker.
On your knees.
Open your mouth.
Open your mouth.
Wider.
Wider.
Wider.
Nah, you don't deserve it.
-You could have been a little
more discreet, my dear.
-Well, my mother always
said, if you can't avoid it,
just relax and enjoy it.
-It's probably the reason you
turned out the way you did.
-What way is that?
-A pleasure-seeking hedonist.
-That's the trouble
with you, dear.
That's the problem right there.
You simply don't know how to
enjoy the finer things in life.
-Finer?
-Mm.
Alice?
-Describe them to
me as best you can.
-One of them sounded Korean.
Another like he came
from Guadalajara.
The big one sounded black.
-Typical.
This has ASS
written all over it.
-But they were so
cruel, these people.
Why?
-Hatred and resentment
of the white race.
Let's go, boys.
We have work to do.
-One thing didn't
quite fit, though.
-What?
-Those men were white.
-What do you mean white?
-I know they were.
-Well, how could you tell?
I mean, they were all wearing
masks, gloves, and body suits.
-There was definitely something
about them that was white.
-What?
-A very telling
part of the anatomy.
-What are you talking about?
Do I have to spell it
out in black and white?
-Oh.
It was dark.
I-- I mean, how could you tell?
-Oh, it's a question of texture.
And size.
No, it's-- you can't
possibly tell--
-Like, the big one.
The one that was
supposed to be black,
he definitely did not
cut it as a black man.
-What do you mean, dear?
-Well, it just didn't unfurl
the way it was supposed to.
It just didn't feel right.
-How do you know?
-I've read my Freud, dear.
-This stuff about black
men being bigger and better
is just a total bunch of crap.
-Whatever.
I'm just saying this
because, oh, something
didn't make sense.
And we don't want to put the
blame on the wrong people.
-The men that raped
you were all ethnic.
-You can say whatever you like.
Those pricks were white.
-Oh, I can't
believe-- you know, I
thought that she was one of us.
-You're not the one who had to
put up with incompetent men.
-Oh!
-Furthermore, I don't believe
that thing that popped up
in Bob's eggs belongs to Alice.
I know my daughter.
-You're in denial.
-I know Alice is still alive.
I know it.
I know it.
-This is very serious.
Much more serious
than you think.
Now, I advise you not
to leave this house.
I offer you the protection
of my men and my very own.
I recommend that we
barricade this house,
and I will provide you
with weapons, ammunition,
and the means to sustain
yourself for a few weeks.
-A few weeks?
-We have to be prepared
for the worst, Bob.
This is not going to
be a walk in the dark.
-In the dark?
-Park.
-But what do they want?
-The house.
The god damn house.
-No, we can't do that.
-Why not?
-Because-- I don't know.
That where would we go?
-Well, a little street life
would do you good, Mama.
-Bob, it's Linda.
She says they're
making her talk.
Honey, I don't--
-Where are you?
-I can't tell you
that, you moron.
I'm with the guys that got me.
-What did they look like?
-Well, they're wearing
masks, and they've
got really bad accents.
Tell them I'll do anything
they want me to do.
-Well, you better get a
condom and some lube, Dad.
They really want to screw you.
-Me?
Why me?
-I don't know.
Why don't you ask them
when they get there?
-They're coming here?
Oh!
-They're on their
way as we speak.
-Oh my god.
Oh my god.
Oh my god.
Oh my god.
-Hello, this is Virginia
Woolf with the Orange News,
and this is what's
happening now.
New acts of vandalism have
forced Chief of Police Tester
to declare Orange City
in a state of emergency.
By 5:45 this evening,
supermarkets in Orange City
had run out of water,
toilet paper, Q-tips,
and chocolate chip cookies.
[groaning]
-Not since the LA
Riots has there
been such a collective
adrenalin rush
in the population of
Southern California.
The way I see it, a
good emergency kit
is not complete without a
toothbrush, your Bay-Rans,
a strong lubricant, and
whatever else you feel
is necessary to get
you through the ordeal.
-Yes, yes, yes.
Yes.
Yes, there we go.
Yes.
Yes, yes.
Come on.
-Right.
-We don't have time for that.
[speeded speech]
--shame and let them
cover themselves
with their own confusion,
as with a mantle.
I will greatly praise
the Lord with my mouth.
Yea, I will praise him
among the multitude.
-How can you be reading
at a time like this?
-Sorry.
I can't put this down.
-Why?
-Well, it's got everything.
Patricide, infanticide,
adultery, pedophilia,
crap-ophilia.
Listen to this-- Sodomorrah,
13:69-- and Samuel
lay beside his wife and
with his tongue provided her
with unmeasurable pleasures
and assuming multitudinous
configurations brought her
to behold the blissfully
ecstatic beatitudes
of revelation.
-What did I do to deserve this?
Hello?
Hello?
Is anybody there?
You omnipresent pain
in the ass, where's
your eternal kindness,
your infinite compassion?
Why you doing this to me?
I'm a nice guy.
I'm a very nice guy.
[moaning]
-I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I won't scream at you again
if you just stop this.
I promise, I'll hug my kids.
I'll be nice to Dorothy.
I won't feel latently superior
to members of minorities.
I'll even fuck my wife.
[moaning]
-God!
-Jesus!
-What the hell?
-Yes?
You ain't seen nothing yet.
-Grace.
Grace.
Grace.
How'd this all happen, Grace?
-Very simple, my friend.
Remember that accident
on Easter Sunday?
-Yes.
-That's when the bearded one up
there told me I could get you.
-And this is--
-Uh-huh.
-And you are--
-Who else?
-Where's my family?
-Oh, they're all around.
Perfect little family.
And Alice, adorable
little Alice--
-Alice!
-Come on, Bob.
Don't be so fucking sensitive.
Listen.
This could be the best thing
that ever happened to you.
I'll show you around.
-Go on, Bob.
You wouldn't believe how
many people I've met here.
This place is packed
with celebrities.
-I guarantee you'll have
more fun here than you ever
imagined.
The sexiest people come here.
Maybe you won't have
to jerk off anymore.
-Go.
ALICE: Daddy?
Daddy, wake up, Daddy.
LINDA: Here you go.
Hi, Dad.
-Mommy told me to tell you that
the guests are about to arrive.
-Honey, I am so
happy to see you.
Oh!
Oh my-- my big girl.
Oh, you look fabulous.
And precious.
Oh, Jesus.
Love the tan.
-Mr. Parkinson, Mrs.
Aditto is looking for you.
-Dorothy!
It's Dorothy.
Oh, Dorothy.
Oh-- [kiss].
Oh, Dorothy.
Oh!
You're gonna cook a good
meal for us, Dorothy.
I know it.
-It's wonderful to be with
you here on Easter Sunday.
And I would just
like to make a toast
to my beautiful, wonderful wife
Linda without whom I would not
be here today.
L'chaim!
-L'chaim!
-Where is Linda?
-Last time I saw her,
she was talking to Jesus.
-Mm, Tom!
-Hello.
Dad.
Everyone, this is Ronnie.
-I've heard so much about you.
-So have I.
-Shalom.
-Ronnie.
Good to see you.
So, would you like a drink?
A little champagne?
-I'll get the glasses.
-More glasses.
More [inaudible].
Please take off your cap.
[chuckling]
-The turtle says to the
rabbit, what took you so long?
Oh, you like that one, do you?
It's better than the last one.
Wait, wait, here's another one.
The rabbit, the turtle, and
the snail all go to heaven.
You like this one, right?
The turtle says to the rabbit.
What took you so long?
-That's it.
I'm quitting.
I'm getting out of
this wretched place.
-What, why?
-Why?
Because I can't stand
your bland jokes anymore.
And I can't take your
constant banal chattering
and your relentlessly
trivial gibberish.
I need some intellectual
stimulation.
-Well, that's something I
could use a bit more of myself.
Intellectual stimulation.
-Well, have a nice, boring life.
-What-- what was that about?
Father, you know
this joke, right,
with the turtle and the snail?
I mean, it's a very--
-Shut up, Kurt.
Your jokes aren't funny.
They just aren't funny at all.
-Bob, dear, would you
pass the pepper grinder?
-Allow me.
-Thank you.