Bloodletting (1997) - full transcript

[Tempe bumper music]

[Dramatic music]

[Crime scene noise]

Uh, excuse me?

[Camera flash pops]

Um, sorry officer...
uh, can you tell me
what happened in there?

Oh, man, y'know... I ain't at
liberty to say... 'cause this is
a police investigation.

Oh, come on...
just a hint?

Well, without
gettin' too graphic...

Some psycho busted
into yonder house...

and chopped up the
whole Millhouse family



like they was a
stack of cordwood.

Uh... cordwood?

Cordwood... you know, like
it was covered with

blood and brains, and
chunks of intestine...

Oh. Thank you.

When are we gonna
get to see some bodies?

Jesus Christ, what
a bunch of losers...

I don't know...

It's a lot smaller turnout
than the last one.

Hiya, Detective Orville...

This is Sergeant
Slade from Metro.

From here on in, he'll
be taking over the case.

Sergeant Slade! Oh man...
everybody's heard about you...

- Yeah?
- So how you making
out on the front lines here?



I mean... you having
any problems?

Aw, heck, no, you know...
out here people, they still
have respect for a badge.

What about forensics?
What time do you expect them?

I called dispatch and they
said about an hour...

so looks like we're looking
at about 40 minutes.

Well, you just point their asses

in the general direction of
that house. We'll be inside.

10-4, Chief. I'll stay here
and handle crowd control.

You fellas want I should get
a couple of ambulances to
help with the victims?

No rush, no rush.

So, what's the deal, Orville?

Millhouse family...
father, mother,
teen aged daughter.

About 9:45, someone calls
the local pizza parlor.

About 10:15, the pizza kid
arrives... the door's wide open.

Kid comes in, see's
what's left of 'em...

Loses everything that's in
his stomach... and dials 911.

You were the first to
arrive on the scene?

Naw, Barney Fife over
there arrived about
30 minutes before me.

- Oh, great.
- No, he didn't
touch anything.

And what makes
you so sure this is
Butch Harlow's handiwork?

People around here think that
"gang-bang" is wife-swapping
on a Friday night.

Hasn't been a murder out
here since my dad was
on the force years ago.

Yeah, it's one thing saying
this is murder in the sticks

and another saying Butch Harlow
did it, got it? He's Public
Fruitcase Number One.

You so much as think he did
this. the Feds"ll be up faster
than you can say Dick Tracy.

Take a look... we"ll
take it from there.

Christ, turn on a light!

This place gives me the creeps.

Clowns, huh?

His last four set of victims
were dressed as clowns.

Read somewhere the Feds
think he's going through
some kind of Gacy period.

And the rest of Harlow's M.O.?

Well... there's the knives.
He's big on knives.

There's blood all over the
place, the kitchen, the bath...

This guy really likes
to drag things out.

Anything else?

Yeah, the kicker for me...

was that Harlow always
leaves a message behind.

So after I saw this...
All I had to do was
start snoopin' around...

To come up with this.

- Shit.
- Yeah.

[Main title music]

You ready to go, baby?

Let's do it.

[Doorbell rings]

Hello... are you Mister...

Walt Lipsky?

- That's me.
- Hi, I'm Serena Stalin

regional salesperson
for Avalon Cosmetics

I think we set up an appointment
today with your wife...

Ooh, uh... as much as I'd
love to finally settle down,

I'm afraid I'm not married.
I think there's been
some kind of mistake.

Oh...
[Sighs]
I can't believe this.

You see, this is my
first day on the job.

I get up this morning,
my car breaks down.

Then, on the way over here,
I almost get pulled over
for speeding, and now this.

I really have to apologize...

The home office tells me their
computer never makes a mistake.

Bunch of liars. I should
have stuck to modeling!

- Yes, you should have.
- I don't know whether to take
that as a compliment or not...

Oh, it's definitely
a compliment.

Oh, well thank you,
Mister Lipsky.
What a nice thing to say.

- Call me Walt.
- Walt.

I sure wish there was some
way I could help you out.

Well, we do sell a wide
variety of men's cosmetics...

- Oh, do you now?
- We certainly do.

Well, um...

You got any Belasco cologne?

'Cause I'm a Belasco cologne
wearing kind of guy, you know.

Well, you'll have to let me
check my magic makeup box...

I'll tell you what... why don't
you come on in and we'll
see what we can see.

And um... if you got
some Belasco, you got
yourself your first sale.

Okay.

I really appreciate this, Walt.

I just did not want to come out
of my first day looking like
an idiot, you know?

Hey, don't worry
about it. Um...

By the way, can I get you some
coffee or something? I mean...
I make some tasty coffee.

Oh, no thanks.

Remember... I'm driving!

Serena Stalin.
That's an interesting name.

- I like it.
- So do I.

Hmm. Now would
you look at that.

No Belasco cologne
in there at all.

[Tense music]

Trick lock.
Installed it myself.

Magnetic, just like the ones
they use in psycho wards.

It's a lot of fun when
my dates go bad.

Oh, if you're thinking
about breaking any
of these windows...

Don't bother.
They're Plexiglas
and they don't break.

I'm what your average
psychiatrist would call
"anal-retentive."

I... I have mace.

Well if I were you, I'd be
gettin' it on out, then...
before I reach you

and do something you probably
won't be digging a whole lot.

I know who you are.
Who you really are.

Enlighten me.

For one thing, your
name isn't Walt Lipsky.

It's Butch Harlow.
And you've killed 14 people
in the last 2 years.

In fact, at one point, you
even had plastic surgery to
alter your identity...

but the FBI was never
able to track you down.

And what makes you think
I'm this Butch Harlow
guy, Nancy Drew?

Did you find the bodies I
buried in my basement?

You used to bury the bodies in
a graveyard near your house

usually in freshly dug graves
and right over the people
supposed to be buried there.

- You've done your homework.
- Yes, I have.

Well, you hit the fucking
jackpot. Ta-da! I'm Butch,
you found me!

Now I guess the
$25,000 question is...

you think I'm this
horrible serial killer...

so why the hell would a smart
gal like yourself come to
the serial killer's lair

by herself... and
expose my secret identity.

Now to me... that doesn't
sound very constructive.

You won't kill me.

I hope you're not placing
cash bets on that, sweetness.

- The neighbors saw me pull in.
- Kids are in school,
parents are at work.

I know these neighbors'
schedules better than they do.

Trust me, nobody
saw you come in here.

I have a letter. And I left it
with a reliable friend.

- I'll bet.
- I do.

And it tells everything I
know, which is a lot.

I don't keep in touch
with her every day

from now until the end of time,

it gets sent to the law
enforcement agency
of her choice.

Fuck!

This is just fucking great!
Are you happy about this?

You know, I kill people
for a living, I'm pretty

goddamn unstable to begin with!

You really think I need my
head fucked with some more?
'Cause I sure don't.

So what are you gonna do?
Play Wonder Woman &
turn me over to the Feds?

- No.
- Then what the fuck
do you want, money?

In case the gold-plated mailbox
out front didn't tip you off

- I don't got any.
- I don't want your money.

The whole reason I tracked
you down was because,

two years ago, I watched you
rape and kill my best friend.

You didn't know I was there,
or you would have
killed me, too.

It took her two hours to die.

You stabbed her
fourteen times in the chest.

All I can say is, sorry.

So what do you want, revenge?

Go for it, babe.

I want...

I want to learn how to kill.

Excuse me?

Maybe I'm a little fucked
up here, maybe I... didn't
hear you just right.

What did you just say?

I want to be a serial
killer, just like you.

This is a fucking joke, right?

No joke.

Well, you know what you do...

You take a really sharp knife,

and you find some poor
bastard that you wanna like...

kill and stuff... and you
sort of fucking stab
them with it!

End of fucking list.
Did you get that all down,
or should I recap?

- I'm being serious.
- Yeah, you're being serious.

So why the hell would you
come to the guy who

whacked your best friend and
ask him how to kill somebody?

I mean, I thought I had
fucking problems...

Because, not-so coincidentally,

I had my first orgasm
that same night.

Well... I am pretty good at
making a first impression...

And... because you've
never been caught.

No matter how close
the police got to you...
they never found you.

Yeah, well...
you found me.

I'm a lot smarter
than the police.

Maybe. But one of the
main reasons I never got
caught was because

I didn't have to drag around
some Lizzie Borden wannabe
and show her ropes.

I don't need a partner, okay?

I'm strictly a solo act,
if you can dig that.

Let me get down to business.

I want you to show me
how to kill people.

How you kill people.

You do that for me, and I burn
the little letter my friend has.

You don't do that, and, well...

I'll be sure to send
you some tampons

when they put you
in general population.

They say the first time
you're anally raped, you...

bleed a lot, and... I am sure
a pretty little boy like you's
gonna need them.

You know, um...

I liked you a lot more
when you were talking
about your first orgasm.

First things first.

Teach me.

[Ominous music]

I don't smoke.
Never did.

I don't trust anybody
who doesn't smoke.

Well, that's really
not my problem.

And I'm damn sure
I don't trust you.

Wise man. So talk.
Tell me what you know.

You're going to have
to be a little more
specific, I mean...

It's been a while since I've
had to teach a class.

Okay... why do you kill people?

You don't know? I thought you
were the one talking about
your first orgasm earlier.

Remember, the part of the
conversation I actually liked?

I meant, why do you
kill people, smart-ass.

Why do I do it?

Think about it.

You kill somebody, you
cross this line, y'know?

I mean, it is the line,
you know. The ultimate
thing you could do.

I mean, hell, the only thing
you could do to surpass that
would be... kill yourself...

and that's not very
constructive now, is it?

It's like when you
kill somebody,

it makes you that
much more powerful

'cause you took

that fucking life.

You made the grand-daddy
motherfucker of all decisions.

What... you think you're evil?

Sure.
[Chuckles]

But... it's like the Bible,
Stephen King, and

any given episode of "The Mighty
Morphin Power Rangers" shows us,

evil people have incredible sex.

We'll see... won't we?

First off, never...

never kill anyone you know,

or anybody in your
own neighborhood.

That's always dipshit
mistake number one.

And don't write about it.

Might as well write
"My Confession For The Police"
at the top of the page...

even if you destroy it
afterwards, some asshole
always ends up finding it

half-burned in the
goddamn fireplace after
they raid your house...

guns are a bitch.

They're loud, they're big to
carry around, hard to keep
from getting traced

easy to ID through ballistics,
and motherfucking
impossible to get rid of.

If you wanna kill lots
of people with a gun,

you might as well save
that last bullet for yourself.

'cause you're gonna need
it when you get caught.

Well, what if I used gloves
and shot somebody?

Honey, with the way forensic
science is these days,

you could accidentally let out
a fart when you killed somebody

and the cops
would know about it.

Trust me... don't use a gun
unless you wanna get caught.

So I stab somebody, then.

No, you don't just
"stab somebody"...

not if you're
trying to kill 'em.

First of all... have you ever
stabbed another person before?

No...

Well, it's not like
stabbing a pillow.

The human body has
about eight jillion
fucking bones in it

and if you don't know
what you're doing,

you're just gonna end up
bouncing off a rib cage
or something.

I mean, hell...
makes a hell of a mess...

but it doesn't quite get the job
done, if you know what I mean.

I used to make that mistake
a lot when I got started.

Well what did you do, I mean...

were they still alive
after you stabbed them?

If they were still screaming

and believe me, most of
them were still screaming...

I'd bash their head in
with a rock or something.

I mean... you gotta cut down on
the noise factor real quick.

You ever think you let someone
live and not know it?

Maybe.

But I got enough fucking
problems, you know what I mean?

[Dramatic music continues]

[Lighter flares]

How do you choose your victims?
I mean...

you obviously don't have
something against just

women, or African-Americans,
or homosexuals.

You kill everybody.
Why?

What do you think
this is about, politics?

Well, I keep hearing all these
things about how serial killers
are looking for revenge...

usually against a parent
or a relative or something.

I think I read that
in Cosmo once.

Are you looking for revenge?

No.

It's just something
I do, you know.

Get my kicks on Route Sixty-Six.

Are you scared?

Scared?
Why would I be scared?

'Cause you're looking
for the deeper meaning.

Whenever anyone goes out
looking for the deeper meaning,

it means they're trying
to justify something that,

you just can't justify.

Like killing somebody.

Every pissant shrink with a
diploma and a
fucking lobotomy drill

has his own little theory about
why some guy wakes up
one morning, and...

decides to whack his wife and
two-point-five kids into
prime fucking cutlets.

He was beaten by his
dad when he was a kid.

He was raped by his
dad when he was a kid.

He was raped by the goddamn
Good Humor man when he was
a kid. Blah-fucking-blah.

They say it's genetic, they say
it's a chemical imbalance.

You... you wanna
know what it really is?

Fucking primal instinct.

It's more than that.

You wanna know my opinion?

And what's that?

Stop reading...
fucking "Cosmo".

You still wanna come with me?

That's why I'm here.

Well then I gotta
tell you more thing...

and it is the most important.

And what's that?

Don't stop in the middle.

You pull a blade on somebody
you don't even fucking know

and make like you're
gonna off them

don't you dare
fucking chicken out.

Chicken out?
I mean, think about it...

why would I be here if
I was going to chicken out?

Oh yeah... on paper,
you're ready to go get
nuts on somebody.

But when it's go time,
it's a whole different story.

Look, all I'm saying is,
you've got the knife out,

the piece of meat
has seen your face.

You kill...

Or I'll kill.

You wanted to know
why I never got caught...

it's because I don't leave
shit laying around.

And if you put my
ass in a sling...

I'll drop you like a
rabid fucking weasel.

Did you forget my little letter?

You fuck up on me...
and I will forget
your little letter.

That's just a natural fact.

I'm ready to go.

Actually, I'm thinking
about, uh...
calling up this chick

a friend of mine keeps
trying to set me up with.

- You have friends?
- Fuck off.

Anyhow, her name's
Bobbie Jo something.

Some hillbilly name
or some shit.

She doesn't have any friends
or relatives or anything.
I checked.

I guess she spends all her
free time getting tanked
in singles' bars,

trying to pick up guys.
She's a real lush.

So you call her up and invite
her over for a nightcap?

Something like that.

I thought you said not
to kill anybody you know?

Hey... I never said
I knew the bitch!

Girlfriend, I am
ready for some action!

[Knocks on door]

"Let's give 'em
something to talk about,

a little mystery
to figure out..."

[Laughing]

Whatever you do, wake up
all my neighbors, okay?

Sorry!

Are you Walt...

Lipshitz?
[Laughs]

That's, uh... Lipsky...
Walt Lipsky.

And I'm... guessing you
must be Bobbie Jo, right?

Right you are, baby-doll!

Are you ready for our date?

Actually, I was wondering
how you'd feel about a...

little company?

Company?

Hi.
I'm company.

I just figured we'd
throw her in...

you know, for good measure.

Oh!

A threesome!

Far fucking out!

No, seriously...

I saw this on "Springer"
the other day!

Too loud.

Are you guys for real?

You... you really
wanna do this?

Hey, if it feels
good, I say do it.

What about you?

You really want to do this?

Of course I do.

[Sinister music]

Oh, we're going down
in the basement?

Yeah, it's my
entertainment room.

Hey, I got a Ping-Pong
table down there!
You love Ping-Pong!

Ping-Pong, huh...

Whoops, you okay there?

You gotta watch that
gravity thing, it's a bitch.

What the hell kind
of movies are these?

"Traces Of Death"?

"Guinea Pig"?

"Cocksucking Toddlers"?

Research.

Don't you guys have like...

I don't know, "Untamed Heart"?

Okay, this shit's getting
a little obnoxious.

Good.

[Heavy metal music]

You wanna not grab Peggy Sue
here until I get a hold of her?

- It's Bobbie Jo!
- I don't give a country
fuck what her name is!

Hold your goddamn horses
or you're gonna screw
this whole thing up!

- Stay the hell away from me!!!
- Come here.

- No!!!
- Oh, for Chrissake!

Well, you gonna do
something or not?

This ain't the
goddamn rodeo, y'know!

[Stabs in stomach]

What did you just do?

I'm trying to kill her, so I
stabbed her in the stomach!

Yeah, you stabbed
her in the stomach!

What the fuck do you
think this is... a
"Friday the 13th" movie?

You don't stab somebody
in the fucking stomach!

Well I didn't want to hit her in
the ribs or something like that!

What, did you think you were
gonna kill her by cutting off
her food supply?

Fuck you!
This was my first time
killing somebody, okay?

- Pick up the knife!
- Go to hell!

Would you just pick up
the goddamn knife?

My arms are starting to
get just a little tired here...

- Give it here. Look...

you don't wanna stab somebody in
the stomach because it takes
them too damn long to die!

You don't want to do
that artsy torture shit

until you've killed a couple
of people and you're a
little more comfortable!

Now watch...
You wanna go...

right up against the ribcage...

up to the heart!

Put your hand on the knife!

[Stabs deeper]

Oh, shit.

I think we missed the heart.
We must've just popped
a lung or something.

You gotta be real careful
with the angle or you'll
fuck it up big time.

Fuck...

Would... you... shut...
fucking... UP... already?!?

Christ!

Congratulations...

you just entered the
wonderful world of homicide.

How do you feel?

It's more blood than I thought.

Yeah.

Do you want to know
how much I like blood?

How much?

[Seductive music]

Lay back.

Now, come on, we both
know where this is going...

why don't you just, uh...
pop out them melons, huh?

Hmmm, not yet...

another time...

[Music continues]

You scared yet?

I don't get scared.

You should be...

I could have cut your
fucking head off if I wanted to.

You're a bitch.

I mean... you're a worse
head case than I ever was.

Oh, yeah, baby.
You got it.

You wanna kill me
right now, don't you?

I wanna kill everybody.
I'm wacky, I'm nuts.

Well, I guess you could...

I just helped you kill
somebody, right?

I mean, I don't have anything
to hold over your head anymore.

You could drop me
without batting an eyelash.

I guess I'm just a
hopeless romantic.

Aw...

[Rock music plays]

What's with the chainsaw?

Well, after work,
you get to learn how to
clean up your fucking mess

after you've repainted your
room with somebody's
fucking vital fluids.

Needless to say, you will
be doing your share
of the cleaning.

You really made a
fucking mess last night.

I mean, sure, thanks for
the sex and all, but...

I could've banged a finger-
painting gorilla in here

and made less of
a fucking mess...

I still don't understand
about the chainsaw.

[Starts chainsaw]

Well, it does make it easier
to mail off the pieces,
now doesn't it?

God, how much
of this bitch is left?

She's really starting
to get heavy.

Well...

the upper torso...

Thinking we're gonna
send that care of

General Delivery in
Intercourse, Pennsylvania.

Intercourse, Pennsylvania?

Yeah, it's a real place.

I saw it on a T-shirt once.

I think you've got...

the head and most
of the pelvis...

And nobody's going
to figure this out?

Well... not until she starts
to stink, anyway.

Hey, um... you got any
more stamps left?

[Dramatic music]

Hey, you alright?

You know, uh...

now that I bought you a
cheeseburger, I own your soul.

I'll tell you what, um...

Why don't I come on over and
get down on all fours and you
can take a shit on me, too.

Look, my mind's on
something else, okay?

Would you stop taking
it so damn personally?

Look, honeybunch, you
hold my ass for ransom

and tell me, "Butch,
I wanna kill people".

So we kill somebody.
I mean, what the hell, I'm easy.
You got your wish.

So what the fuck do
you want from me now?

Do you wanna rob a
bank or something?

I'm fine.
I got what I wanted.

Yeah, you got
what you wanted.
That's just great.

I'm very happy for you.

You are taking this personally.

You know, that's a
load of shit, alright?
It's like you said...

you got what you wanted,
so why don't we just...

say our good-byes
and be done with it.

Oh, so that's it?

We kill somebody and just

go our separate ways?

Let's go on with our lives
like we met at a party.

Party's over, fuck
you very much?

What the fuck else
do you want?
A serial killer diploma?

This is it, Serena.
You kill somebody,

you spend a shitload of
time mopping up the blood,

you sweat out getting picked up
by the cops for about 10 years,

and if you are lucky...
you move on.

It doesn't get any
better than this.

This isn't about killing
people anymore, Butch.
This is about us.

Oh, Jesus Christ...
I got a newsflash for you
kiddo, there ain't no "us".

You pulled that "letter with
a friend" bullshit on me
and I did what I had to do.

Bullshit.

If that were true, you
would've killed me last night

instead of sleeping with me

and spent all day
mailing off two bodies.

I don't have that
kind of stamp money.

Look, two years ago, something
passed from you to me

I've been trying to find out
what the hell it is ever since.

You can call it karma...

you can call it whatever
you want, I don't care.

So look, here's the deal.

If you want to behave like
every other stupid asshole

who's walked into my life
and tells me whatever
he thinks I want to hear

just so he can
get down my pants?
Well that's fine...

I'll turn around and walk
out of here right now.
I've got no problem with that.

Whoa, whoa, wait a second...
what are we talking about here?

Look, let's just drop
this, okay? I'm...

No, no no no...
let's discuss this.

- You got a thing
for me, don't you?
- What?!?

You like me, you
think that it's over,

and now, you're upset about it.

Hey, that's perfectly
understandable.
Don't worry about it.

You ego maniacal prick!
We roll around on
a bloody bed...

- Yeah.
- Chop up some dead
bar hag with a chainsaw...

- Oh yeah.
- And you think somehow you
hit my fucking love button?

- That's right.
- I mean, I've got
my hang-ups...

but I still go for the candy,
the flowers, and the
Hallmark cards, you know?

And I suppose what happened
between us last night didn't
mean a goddamn thing, right?

Besides the fact that
I was a little horny?

Oh, come the fuck off it!
You got as much
out of it as I did!

Well, it was all right,
but let's not get
carried away here...

Um... what about the, uh,
thing I did with my tongue?

- I've had better.
- What?

Oh, Jesus Christ...
is that all you care about?

How you rate in the sack?

Well... well no, I mean...

I care about all that
other stuff, too, it's just...

it's just right now,
you're telling me I
was just "all right".

What the hell does
that mean, "just all right"?

I mean, did you feel I had room
for improvement or what?

You're as bad as Rupert!

Who's Rupert?

Uh...

lemme... let me rephrase that.

Who the fuck is Rupert?!

He's my boyfriend.

Your, uh...

your "boyfriend" as in the guy
who took you to the senior prom
when you were sixteen,

or your boyfriend as in, it's
time you and I had a
serious fucking talk?

I was going to
tell you about him...

Jesus Christ, don't start doing
me any fucking favors!

It's not like you think.

How could it not
be like I think?

Are you two living together?

Yeah.

Separate beds?

No...

Do you love him?

Look... no more bullshit.

I just need to know.

Do you love this guy?

I hate him, okay?!

I met him six months ago
and he seemed like
the right kind of guy.

So I said to myself,

"What the hell, girl?"

What the hell.

He wants me to move
in with him, so I did.

It was the easiest
thing to do...

so fucking easy!

The minute I was
in, that was it.

The talking, the nice clothes...

the "What do you
think, honey?"

It all just...

And now, I just
fucking hate him.

Does he beat you?

Please!

[Laughs]

You feel a little better now?

Aw, Christ...

Well... you know what I
think we should do?

If this involves your tongue,

I think I'm gonna
take a raincheck.

No. What I think we
should do is, we should...

go over to this guy Rupert's
house and pick your stuff.

- You can move in with me.
- No, just forget it.

I don't want to ever
see that asshole again.

Hey...
I said "us".

I'll be there.

This guy gets into bar
fights for a living, Butch!

What are you gonna do? Go
over there and try and go
ten rounds with him?

Who said anything
about fighting?

Well, well, well.

Look who's back in town.
My girl.

Just let me in, Rupert.

You didn't say the magic word.

Why don't you take it easy.
She just wants to
get her stuff, okay.

Who the fuck are you
supposed to be, Eightball?

Nobody special.

May I?

Why the hell not.

How about a hug, sexy?

Are you sober?

[Sighs]
This ain't off to a good start.

Look... I don't want to fight.

You don't wanna fight.
Is that why you brought
Slim here with you, huh?

You're gone for two
fucking days, sweetheart.

There's nobody here to cook,
nobody's doing the dishes,

nobody's cleaning
the fucking house...

This place is starting
to look like shit!

- So hire a maid.
- Excuse me... cunt?!?

- Stay out of this, Woody.
- Why don't you show
the lady some respect?

Like I said, stay out of this.
Or I'll cream the fucking
wall with your face.

Look... I've got some
clothes in the back room.

Why don't you get those
for me... while I finish
talking to Rupert?

What is this shit?

- I'm moving out.
- The hell you are!

Look, this has been
coming for a long time now.

You know it, and I know it.

We can either do
this like adults,

or you can make it
bad for the both of us.

Goddamn, honey-pie...
you got yourself a brand-
new dick stickin' in you

and all of a sudden,
you're the bitch of the ball!

Excuse the fuck outta
me!!! I ain't cuttin' it
anymore for you?!

Let's not forget who's the
one who took you in, princess!!!

You "took me in" so I could
be your goddamn nursemaid!

No! I took you in so you and me
could have a life together!

This is our life
together, Rupert!

This shithole!
Me coming
home from work

and watching you drink up
your unemployment check!

Me spending twenty-
four hours a day

watching you rot
like a fucking corpse.

I mean, look at you! You
don't even know why you
want me anymore!

You drank up whatever
sex drive you had left!

So why am I here?
A trophy?

Someone to bitch about
poor little Rupert's life to?

Okay, sugar... you
get one last chance.

You get the hell off your high
horse and you get in the kitchen

like you're gonna make
me some dinner.

I'll forget about Woody.

I might even just bust
his friggin' nose, let
him off with that.

- No.
- Well hat's too bad,
you psychotic whore,

because you see,
the alternative is,

you're gonna have to get
used to sleeping on your
stomach for a while.

- A real long while.
- Just take your best
shot, honey-pie.

Did you tell your new fag
boyfriend what a fucking
fruit loop you are?

How fucked-up your brain is
because of what happened
to you and your mom...

- Shut up, Rupert!!!
- Must've slipped
your mind, huh?

Well, I tell you what... after
I whip the living shit out of

you and Woody over there,
we'll all just sit around and
have a little chat about it.

- I only told him one thing.
- What's that?

Where your daddy's
old shotgun is.

[Shotgun cocks]

Hi. Howya doin'?

You ain't gonna
do shit with that.

Wait... what about that
"guns are a bitch"
speech you gave me?

Not a problem, seeing as how
this one's registered in
good old Rupert's name.

Uh... look, I ain't in the mood
for no fucking games here...

Why don't you, uh...
go ahead and pull up
a seat there, Rupert.

Please.

[Tense music]

You guys really didn't
think I was gonna
hit anybody... did ya?

Rule number one:

Shut the fuck up
or I will kill you.

You got a chance to talk,

you went on and on about
some stupid shit,

so now your right to speak
is being taken away from you.

If you understand
rule number one

please nod yes.

Great. By the way, you probably
don't wanna go overboard
on that nodding shit

Rupe, old buddy, because...
I got a pretty tight squeeze
on this trigger, and uh...

you might end up giving yourself
a twelve-gauge root canal,
you know what I mean?

Okay... here's what we're
going to do there, Coolio.

We are gonna play
This Little Piggy.

Are you familiar with that game?
Nod yes if you know.

You've never heard
of This Little Piggy?

No shit. I thought everybody
knew This Little Piggy.

Oh, c'mon, Rupert,
you know this one!

"This little piggy went
to the market..."

"And this little piggy
stayed home..."

Right, right, and then
there's a little piggy that
eats beef, and...

and piggy that does
the "wee-wee-wee" shit.

Sometimes you play it
with toes, but tonight...

tonight we're
playing with fingers.

And because you're gonna be
the one that's gonna be
playing the game...

I'm gonna go ahead and
take this shotgun here...
outta your face.

Now, I did change some
of the rules to the game.

From this point on...
You are gonna do
exactly what I say...

no more, no less.

You decide to do
anything else, well then...

Hats are gonna become very,
very unimportant to you,
very fucking quick.

- Understood?
- Can we talk...

Woah, Woah, Woah...
now wait a second here.

Maybe my memory's
a bit fuzzy, but...

I don't seem to remember
giving you permission to talk.

Pull that shit again and
your question's gonna be...

"Can I please get a sponge
to wipe my brains
off the wall?" Got it?

Found it!

Okay, Rupert...
see, here's the deal.

I'm gonna wiggle each of
your fingers, one at a time.

Each time I wiggle a finger...

you tell me what that
particular little piggy does.

Get it right and we move
on to the next little piggy.

Get it wrong and...

we operate.

And you move your arm...
I pull this trigger, and it's
Game Over, Player One.

Okay then...
let's do it!

- Serena?
- "This little piggy..."

Come on, Rupert, what's
that little piggy do?
It ain't a trick question.

This little piggy, uh...
goes to the, um, market...?

Very good, Rupert!

Yeah, I think he's
gettin' the hang of this!

- "And this little piggy..."
- You aren't mad,
are you, honey?

Oh, man, Rupert!

You had a rhythm going
there and you lost it!

Now, don't move...

[Screams]
Jesus, my finger!!!

Be a man, Rupert! You're coming
real fucking close to breaking
the rules of our little game!

- "This little piggy..."
- I can't... it
hurts... it hurts...

Oh man, Rupert, you are really
battin' a thousand here, buddy!

Hold still, you stupid asshole!

No!

[Chops off finger]

[Rupert screams]

Jesus Christ honey,
don't you think you...

went a little overboard there?

Well, he wouldn't stop moving!

Well what the hell are
we gonna do now?

We ran out of piggies!

Then we're just gonna
have to find something
else to chop off...

[Shotgun blast]

[Romantic music]

[Oven door closes]

Wow, he cooks, too...
I'm impressed.

[Chuckles]
I just dumped a box
of Rice-A-Roni in...

a pot here, and uh...
tossed it in the oven.

Tricks 'em every time.

I just figured I should... do
something special for you...

you know, celebrate.

Celebrate what?

Common interests.

Here's to common interests.

[Glasses clink]

Skoal.

What?

Oh, nothing.
It's just that...

It's just that you look really
great tonight, that's all.

Well, thank you!

You know you didn't
have to say that.

I wanted to.

For that matter, you didn't
have to take me in, either.

I mean, I don't think us
living together was covered
in our so-called deal.

I just liked the idea of having
sex every night, that's all.

You know, us living
together is not always
gonna be wine and roses.

I mean, just look at
Rupert and I, for example.

You and Rupert had
fucking problems, okay?

I mean, yeah, I'm a serial
killer, granted, but...

even I wasn't that
big a piece of shit.

If I ever start acting like him,
you have full permission to
blow my head off, too.

Well, for instance...

who gets control of the TV
if we both wanna watch
something different?

I dunno, who cleans the toilet?

- Who does the cooking?
- What about a joint
banking account?

What about... when it's
that time of month

and I just want to be left
alone for a few days.

Ooh, um... you're not
one of those chicks

that goes all nutzoid when she
gets her period, are you?

What do you think?

Shit.

No seriously, Butch,
these are questions

we never asked ourselves
before I moved in here.

We just...
sorta did it.

Can't we just...

take it one day at a time and
see what happens. I mean...

You have to admit... this isn't
exactly your standard Harlequin
romance we got going here.

[Chuckles] Amen.

You do look great, though.

You know, if I
didn't know better...

I'd say you had a thing for me.

Fuck you.

Fuck you, too.

Hmm...

By the way...
I was just thinking
about something.

- Uh-oh.
- No no no no,
hear me out.

I'm thinking, shit, this is our
first night of living together

we should do something special.

We are doing something special.

I'm sampling some
of your fine cuisine.

Actually, I was...
leaning a little more
towards us maybe...

going out and getting
ourselves in a little trouble.

Where do you want to
go, it's your pick.
Any ideas?

Um... maybe.

Well?

Oh... no, you're
just gonna laugh.

It's your night.
I promise I am
not gonna laugh.

No, it's really silly,
you're gonna laugh.

Jesus Christ, the suspense
is killing me! Come on!

Okay... well, when I
was a little girl, I went
to Catholic school.

And you were
molested by a priest.

No, actually...

I was gonna say I
had a thing for priests.

Uh-huh...

Nuns, too.

So what you're getting at is...

instead of us going out and
picking up your average

everyday, run-of-the-mill
murder victim,

you think we should
go and bump off a priest?

Not exactly...

The answer's
"Mount Kilaminjaro".

It's "Mount Everest", dear.

[Baby crying]

Aren't you gonna do something
about the baby or what, June?

He's teething, Ward.

Well, I changed him last time.

Well, I had him...

[Baby cooing]

Hey, while you're up, do you
think you could get me a beer?

[Knocks on door]

A little late for visitors,
don't ya think?

Probably those damn
Jehovah's Witnesses.

I told 'em to come
back at another time.

I'll go get it...
dear.

[Knocks on door]

Who is it?

Look, I'm sorry to bother you,
I need to use your phone.

Well... there's a pay phone
right down the street...

Just tell 'em you don't want
a goddamn subscription
to The Watchtower!

My girlfriend and I were just
in a bad car accident...

she's... she's bleeding
and she's unconscious...

Uh, well... did you try
that CPR on her?

Look, please just let me
in and use the phone.

I think my girlfriend's dying...

Ward... there's a man out there
who says he was in an accident
and his girlfriend's dying...

he wants to use our phone.

Eh... ah, what the hell.

Just don't let him get any blood
or anything on the furniture.

Oh, my God!
It's a priest!

Hey, uh...

you ain't no
Jehovah's Witnesses...

You broke my nose, bitch!

What'd you call me?

[Repeated skull cracking]

Uh... Serena!

[More skull cracking]

Serena!

What?!?

You may wanna...

lighten up on that phone
shit for a little while, um...

I'd say Mr. Personality's
just about fucking dead.

[Chuckles]

[Grunts]

[Baby cries]

[Shotgun blast, baby explodes]

What the fuck was that?!?

I'm sorry...

Sometimes I get a little edgy?

That was a goddamn
baby, Butch!!!

I never done that before...

I never...

never killed a baby...

Seriously?

Yeah.

First one.

Wow.

[Loud techno music plays]

What the fuck are you doing?

I said, "What the fuck
are you doing?!?"

[Turns off music]

[Sighs] I'm entertaining myself.

Yeah well... you happen to be
destroying my little moment
of happy silence here.

You have had "happy silence"
for three days now.

It's time to snap
the fuck out of it.

Well I guess the
honeymoon is over...

You know, for a serial killer,
you sure are a drag sometimes.

I just think we need to pace
ourselves, that's all.

I mean, if we go out every
single night and kill some guy,
we're gonna get caught.

We're not gonna get caught.

We've got a good
thing going here.

- This is getting dangerous.
- What's getting dangerous?

You like this way too damn much.

Uh, well that is why I'm here!

Listen...

When I kill somebody,
I treat it like jerking off.

- Oh, brother...
- No, just hear me out, okay?

I treat it that way because
it's something I like to do...

it's something I need
to do every so often to...

release whatever it
is I need to release.

But I know when not to do it.

But you...

you just like it.

You don't care about
anything else.

Not the facts, not the cops,

not the right kind of
victims, just the blood.

And that's just about the point
when you're gonna fuck up
and get us both busted.

I think you're
underestimating me.

Yeah... okay.

Actually... you know want
to know what I think it is?

I think you're afraid.

Why, because you're a woman?

No... because I'm getting
better at this than you are.
You're getting tired.

You've killed a bunch of people,
and it just doesn't matter
that much to you anymore.

And I come along, and
it's everything to me.

You gonna turn this into
a pissing contest now?

You're getting burned out...
am I right?

I am not getting burned out.

I just don't feel it necessary
to go out every single fucking
night and kill somebody, okay?

[Chuckles]
I mean Christ, what kind of a
fucking nutjob are you, anyway?

What did you call me?!?

Oh, for Chrissake!

You just called
me a nutjob, right?

I hate to break it to
you kiddo, but uh...

neither one of us are exactly
playing with a full deck here.

No, asshole...
you just called me a nutjob!

That's what Rupert
used to call me!

I was waiting for this.

You wanna let go of
my arm, Butch?

- Is this gonna get ugly?
- Let... go.

If you're thinking of hitting me

I'd get that thought right
out of your pretty
little red head.

If you know anything at
all about me baby

you know my days of backing
down from people are over.

So let me go.

Why don't you just...
calm down.

No! Look at you!

Lying around,
talking a bunch of shit!

And that's all it
is too, is shit!

Your little videos, and
your newspaper clippings!

It's just a big crock of shit!

You wanna know what you are?

You're a fucking poseur!

- A what?
- That's right, a poseur!

You think if you got a knife
and some snuff films

and you start talking like
you just fell out of a
Quentin Tarantino movie

that somehow you'll just
magically become
the next Ted Bundy!

Well, I got some bad
news for you, sunshine!

I think you got a
ways to go yet.

You know, all the sudden
I'm starting to identify
with good ol' Rupert.

Wrong thing to say.

Look, um...

Why don't you come to bed?

You must be joking.

Where the hell do
you think you're going?

Some place where
the fun never ends.

Don't wait up.

Well... fuck her!

Bitch can go out...

I'm gonna go rent a movie...

Poseur. Shit.

[Hillbilly music plays]

So.

So...

You look like, uh...
someone who's got
a lot on their mind.

Yeah, something like that.

Let me guess.
It's the old man, right?

A little.

See, I knew it!

- You just had that look.
- And what kind
of look is that?

The kind where I've got
"sucker" written on my
forehead in big shiny letters?

No, you just don't seem
like the type of girl

who'd be sitting here
drinking herself silly for
absolutely no reason.

What can I say.
It happens.

Well... you could bend
a sympathetic ear.

Look, you seem like
a really nice guy...

but I gotta warn you right now

if you're looking to find
yourself a one-night soulmate,

you're definitely barking
up the wrong tree.

Whoa! Hey look, I don't
know what happened
to you tonight, but

all I know is I'm just a guy
out drinking a beer, and...

I look over and I see you,
and I say to myself...
"Self, what the hell."

"Why don't we just go over there
and see what's bothering her."

But obviously, I made a mistake.

I'm sorry...

Look, I'm sorry.

It's just a reflex action.

- Okay. We should start over.
- We should.

- Hi, I'm Chris.
- Hi, Serena.

Good, now see...
that was much better.

So uh... what is bothering you?

Oh... let's not talk
about that, okay?

You know, they say
sometimes it's uh...

it's pretty good to tell
your problems to a complete
stranger you meet in a bar.

[Chuckles]

Oh, really. Is that
what they say?

You know, I always
thought "they" say
"don't talk to strangers."

Well, maybe "they're"
full of shit and we shouldn't
listen to "them" anymore.

That's always been my policy.

So uh... why don't you let me
buy you another drink

and you can tell me
what's bothering you
on this fine evening.

What do you got there,
Seagram's Seven,
or... or Zima?

Jack Daniel's, straight,
no chaser.

Shit! Oh, I should have known...
you're Irish, right?

Yep! That's how I got the red
hair and the enlarged liver.

Uh-oh. Yeah, I've heard
stories about Irish people.

- Such as?
- Well, you know...

Irish people are
supposedly full of shit, right?

Oh no, no, no.
You're mixing that up
with people with brown eyes.

- People with brown
eyes are full of shit.
- Ah...

Well, what about us
people with blue eyes?

Blue eyes... eh, they're
half a quart low.

Fuck her!

Sorry about that...

You guys are closing already?

I thought this place
was supposed to be
open 'til midnight?

Yeah, well...
I decided to close
early tonight.

You see, I got this
Peter Murphy tape today...

and I need an unbiased
opinion on whether or not
I got ripped off.

An... unbiased opinion?

Yeah, like, I'll put it in,
you'll listen to it,
tell me if you dig on it.

And, you know, I mean,
it'll only take a second.

Okay.

Who's Peter Murphy?

A-ha-ha! Cool...

Virgin ears!

Howdy.

Hold on... almost got it...

[Alternative music plays]

This is uh...
Peter Murphy?

No...

That was just a line I used to
get you to stick around.

Ah. Great.

I'm Patti.
I'm a lesbian.

You don't say.
I'm Butch.

I'm straight.

With a name like Butch.

I'm Lori...
Not Patti's girlfriend...

I dunno why
everyone thinks that.

I mean, I date guys and stuff.

They call me Boog.

Boog, huh.
Hey, well that's cool.

I really appreciate you...

thinking of me for this
little get-together
you're planning, but...

- if you'll excuse me...
- No, wait a minute...

Alright, I am very selective
on who I close
my store down early for.

And I saw you walking
around here, man...

and when I saw you
and I thought, y'know...

there's someone I
can really talk to.

What about, uh...
Lori and Booger here?

Boog.

Boog.

Fuck them, man.

I got Lori over there yapping
about giving her boyfriend a
handjob at the drive-in, and...

Boog here going on and on
about how all the girls
think he's creepy.

Blah-blah-blah.

Y'know, but I look at you...

and I see someone I could
really have a conversation with.

Alright look...
now listen...

you can walk out of here,
you know, if you want,
you can go home

pretend like this
all never happened.

Or you can hang out and talk.

What makes you think I'm
this... swell conversationalist?

I think you and
I are a lot alike.

Well, aside for our
mutual taste for pussy,

I really don't see how you
can make that kind of

snap judgment on somebody
after just meeting them.

Well, I can tell.

I'm very observant.

You know...
they say coke makes
you hyper observant.

[Sniffs coke]

- Want some?
- No thanks.

I try not to do any drug that
costs more than my car, okay?

No, hey, man, it's cool, I mean,
there's no fucking pressure.

But if you want, our friend
Boog here has a dime bag of
some very skunky shit.

Now, if I get all fucked up,
how am I gonna be able to
maintain a decent conversation?

- Does that mean you're in?
- What the hell.

Excellent!

I'll roll you one hell of
a blunt later, if you want.

Alright, now that we've got all
that settled, let's move this
party to my place in the back.

- Your place?
- Yeah!

That's where the Ouija board is.

[Music continues playing]

Hey uh... I thought you said you
lived with your boyfriend.

I did. It seems he's
gone for the evening.

Wow... that's a shame.

Not really. Say...

I've got a really good idea.

Let's not talk about him, okay?

Well, if he shows up,
is it gonna be a problem
that I'm still here?

Like I said, he's gone
for the evening.

That is, unless you plan
on being here
after this evening?

Hey! I'm just here for
the conversation.

Um... do you
have any spirits?

- Spirits?
- You know, Crown Royal,
that kind of stuff.

I thought I'd make
us a couple drinks.

- Well, you could
always try the kitchen.
- Oh, okay...

- Hmmm.
- Well, there you go.

Not a lot of variety, sorry.

Ah heck, I can make do.

You sound awfully
sure of yourself.

Well, while I was in college,
I did a stint as a bartender.

Hence, my ability to listen.

Bartender! Wow.

Hey, uh... do you have
any ginger ale?

Um... you could
always check the fridge...

Great, thanks.

I make this great concoction
with Crown Royal.

Knocks you on your ass and
you can't even taste it.

Well that's a mighty bold
statement, especially
considering my Irish heritage.

Trust me, this drink would
knock Superman on his ass.

Now, you just go
in the living room.

The is a closely guarded family
secret, if you know what I mean.

Oh, okay.
You got it.

Yeah, perfect.

So, what'd you go
to college for?

Um...
I'm a chemist.

I, uh... I got snapped right
out of Cal Tech.

I'm doing some research right
now for a cosmetic company.

You know, coming up with
better kind of lipstick,
y'know, that kinda stuff.

Well that sounds like it
could be pretty interesting.

Well, actually I was hoping
I'd come up with
the cure for cancer.

But, I'm in cosmetics
for the money.

Well, what about you?

- Serena?
- Oh...

Um, I'm, you know,
a clerk or something...

- What?

- Paralegal.

I work for one of those
law firms. They're big,
I get 'em confused a lot.

Oh, okay...
Voila.

Oh, uh...
Actually, this one is yours.

See, I put a little lemon
juice in it, and... actually,
I'm very allergic to that.

No shit?

Yeah, actually it's pretty
wild, you should see it, uh...

I get the shakes, you know,
vomiting, diarrhea,
the whole enchilada.

Well, that sounds like a way
to screw up a perfectly
good evening.

You're not kiddin'.

Why are you being so nice to me?

I don't know, I... I
guess it's the
relationship thing.

You know, the stuff you
were telling me
about your boyfriend...

- I could just relate with that.
- Because...?

Well, it's... it's
sorta complicated.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry.

Is it bad?

Look, uh... I'll tell
you what, uh...

Why don't we slam a couple
more of these, et a good
buzz going, and then...

maybe I'll feel like
talking about it.

And this is gonna knock
me on my ass, huh?

I guarantee it.

You gotta ask it a question.

Okay... um...

Will I ever have a girlfriend?

- No.
- Boog!

You gotta ask a
serious question.

Like... "Ouija board, Ouija
board, will The Smiths ever
get back together?"

For Chrissake, Lori!

Nice place.

It's kind of what I kind
of pictured Stevie Nicks'
pad would always look like.

Stevie Nicks.

I think I fucked her once.

She was nice.

So... this is what you do.

Get fucked up and
play with candles.

Hey... don't forget
the Ouija board!

I don't know... it just seems
like a major waste of
quality time to me.

Well, that all depends
on your definition
of "quality time".

Well correct me if I'm
wrong, but I could have swore
I heard something about

picking apart each
other's psyches.

I don't know... I-I...

just wanted to
get laid, that's all.

Well, Boog...
my funkified little friend...

my suggestion is either

double up on the whacking
off or turn faggot
super-quick, 'cause...

it ain't happening here.

I tried being queer
for a while... but...

guys don't like me, either.

Alright... well, let's...

talk about something, like...

- How about death?
- Yay, that's a good one!

Yeah, how 'bout it,
Mister Butch...

What would a clean-cut guy
like you know about death?

Ah... I know more
than you think I do.

Really? Well, shit then... share
with the group, Cochise.

Yeah, let's just talk
about, like...

Um... if you died, what
would happen, like...

Alright, let's not...
talk about that, alright?

I'm interested in a more
serious chat at the moment.

Okay.

Boog?
Anything to add?

What? Oh... um...

I-I was just gonna say...

um, that when I was a kid,

uh... none of the girls
liked me, but, um...

all I wanted to do
was to just get married...

Great, look... I got an idea.

How about the way you would die?

If you could choose it?

I think it would actually
pretty cool if I died from
AIDS or something.

- What?
- Say what?!?

Well... that means I would've
had sex with someone before
I died, you know?

Yeah, okay, Boog...

you are definitely the last
Little Caeser's delivery
guy I ever pick up.

So anyway, nobody tells me
that when gunpowder sweats,
it sweats nitroglycerin.

So the next time the
A-train goes by... ka-blam!

The whole west side of my
house loses its paint job!

[Laughs]
Jesus... what did
your dad do?

He paddled my butt, and he
took my Junior Chemistry Set
away, that's what he did.

[Laughing]

- Did you want a refill?
- Huh?

- Did you want a refill?
- Oh, no thanks.

Actually, I'm kind
of disappointed.

Your drink didn't live
up to its hype.

Well uh... these things
take time to kick in.

Okay...

Actually, you do seem
a little bit out of it...

Who, me...?

Yeah, um...
how you feel, Serena?

[Sinister music]

[Breathing heavy]

Something's wrong...

Yeah, I know.

That little extra-special
something I slipped in
your drinky-poo

is probably just
starting to kick in.

Some guys, they gotta beat
up the women to get 'em
to do what they want.

Not me. I do it this way
and it doesn't spoil the mood.

What...

What did you do to me?

Remember how I told you,
uh, I was a chemist?

In my spare time, I like to come
up my own little concoctions.

This one's sort of a sodium
amitol-LSD mix I came up with.

You... fuck!

Yeah.

That's just how my
ex-wife used to say it.

And you're just like her.

I mean, I... I loved her.

But all she cared
about was the money.

No sex, no romantic weekends...

just how much she could
charge on the old Visa.

I can remember when she'd be
laying next to me in bed with...

this little cute little
nightie on me.

And I couldn't touch her...

and I didn't know how
to make her let me...

you know, touch her.
She...

aw, hell, enough of my yakkin'.

Stop this...

She... she had red hair,
just like you did.

Except, I think you're just
a little prettier than she is.

I mean, that's why I came over
to you back at the bar, I...

I figured I could...
I could get you home and...

and make it so that I
could touch you, you know.

[Sobbing]

Oh... okay?

Mommy...

Okay?

S-S-Serena...?

[Panting]

I think I'm all better now...

Good.

I hope I was wrong
about you, Serena.

You know, I hope
that you and I...

can still be friends...

[Loud crunch]

Ow, shit...!

You bitch!

Ow...

Jesus Christ...

[Spits]

How was that for
a little touch, asshole?!?

Your turn.

- You first.
- Me first?

Okay...

well if I had to pick a way...

it would be the same way

that Chloe Webb dies at
the end of "Sid and Nancy."

As much as I
hate to admit it, I...

think I liked Boog's better.

I mean, at least one
was more realistic.

Yeah.

No, think about it.
I mean...

Nancy Spungen is
obsessed with Sid Vicious.

Right, so hey get together,
they get hooked on heroin...

they're both
doomed anyway, right?

So at the end,
after all that shit...

He stabs her in the
stomach with a knife.

And what does she do?
Does she hate him for it?

Does she freak out
and call the cops?

- No.
- No, she hops
into bed with him.

Exactly. Man, it appeals to my
cynical side... I mean...

I think that's what
love is really like.

I think you got
fucking problems.

Well, that very well may be.
But right now, it's your turn.

Well... here's the
problem, folks.

Unlike all of you...
I won't die.

Alright, and uh, what
makes you immortal?

Are you some kind of
vampire or something?

It's all a matter of choices.

All of you choose to be victims.

- I don't.
- And what about you?

I mean, what makes you so
all-fucking-superior to me?

I'll tell you what... if you
got a minute, I'll show you.

[Heavy metal music]

"It's the Love Boat...

la-la-la-la-la-la..."

C'mon, Chris,
you know the words!

"Set a course for..."
[Crushes skull]

adventure..."

Something about a new romance?

Something along those lines!

Teach him to fuck
with us redheads, huh?!?

This... is a
number two pencil...

[Stabbing noise]
Ta-da!

[Gasping]

Omigod!

He looks so funny!

Shut up, you stupid bitch!

Oh, fuck!

Hang on, boys and girls, 'cause
this part gets even better...

Heeeelp!!!

Oh, no no, you don't
wanna do that, little girl!

Who you calling?

Man, I'm so fucked-up, I can't
even dial the fucking phone...

Just like Chloe Webb at the
end of "Sid and Nancy," right?

Yeah.
Just like that.

[Knife stab]

[Heavy metal music fades out]

You fucking bitch!

You got blood on my pubes!

Oh well...

guess I'm free-ballin'
it tonight, huh?

[Transitional music]

[Door opens]

Oh, Jesus Christ, Butch!

You would not believe
the night I just had!

Um... yeah...

It was insane!

Look, um... is this that
PMS thing we were
talking about before?

Because, uh... I thought
that shit was a joke...

Look, no more fights, okay?

At least not until
I recover from this one.

Sure, uh... you got it.

So, uh... what's
with all this shit?

Well, I sorta had
someone over last night.

I see.
Is he still here?

Well... most of him is.

Um... I'm gonna go out on a
limb here and assume that...

all this blood and shit
didn't come from a nasty
shaving accident.

Oh, I'm sorry... I didn't
have a chance to clean up.

- I mean, I'm still coming
down off the acid...
- What?

Well here, see for yourself.

Oh.

So... how was your
evening, honey?

[Sinister music]

What?

Uh, we have a slight problem.

Okay hold on a second,
I just stepped out
of the shower...

Boy, did I need that...

- Got a question for you.
- Shoot.

I was... moving that
Chris guy's body out of
the living room, and...

I just sort of happened to
notice that he's missing
a chunk out of him.

- Uh-huh...
- You wouldn't...

happen to know where his, um...

reproductive organs
went to, would you?

- What?
- You know, his cock,
his balls, his piss-pump.

I've looked all over the
living room, I can't find them.

Uh...
Uh-hmm...

[Spits]

I'm not sure...

Oh, shit... I think you're
gonna have to fix the
garbage disposal.

I think I busted it last night.

You threw his critters in
my garbage disposal?

What the hell kind
of bright idea is that?

Well, I'm sorry. I was all
freaked out on acid

and the last thing I wanted
to look at was this guy's

ripped-off penis laying
around the living room floor.

I mean shit, I think at
one point it was
even talking to me.

What, did it say, "Hi, I'm
Charlie the Fuckstick and
I'm so happy to be here!"?

It was a joke!!!

Jesus Christ, I don't
know what she's all
pissed off about...

I'm the one that's gotta clean
the fucking garbage disposal!

Strange days, huh?

[Chuckles]
The strangest.

I wonder what the hell we're
gonna do for an encore?

Buy Uzis and go
apeshit in a Kmart?

Seriously!

I try not to think
that far in advance.

Let's find somebody tomorrow.

Are you serious?
We're really pushing the
fucking limit here.

Oh, come on, Butch!
One more?

We'll go someplace real secluded
instead of here at the house.

You wouldn't even have
to dispose of the body.

I don't know...

We didn't get to do
the last one together.

If this is gonna be a
sacred thing, we gotta
do it together, right?

Just this one more...

we can lay low for awhile.

I promise, I won't
bug you again.

Alright, alright. One more.

Thanks, honey.

I don't see anybody.

I pass this guy every day
on my way to work.

He'd jog during a nuclear
holocaust, trust me. He's silly.

Is that him?

Hi, there!

Hi...

So, you having fun out
here all by yourself?

Having a blast.

So tell me, I was
just asking my husband...

why an attractive
gentleman like yourself

would be jogging all
alone on a day like this.

[Chuckles] What are you,
the Jogging Police?

That's right.
The Jogging Police.

So you wanna pull over or what?

Uh... I'm kind of
busy right now...

why the heck
should I "pull over"?

Well, fruity-ass... the
sooner you get those bun
huggers of yours in the car

the sooner I can fuck
you like I hate you.

[Laughs]

Yeah, right, so your husband can
beat the shit out me after?

Oh, he doesn't fight.

He likes to watch.

Uh, what did you say
your name was again?

[Transition sweep]

[Door slams]

So, what is this place?

I used to come here
when I was a little girl.

It's paradise... if you've
got the right attitude.

Yeah?

- What's he gonna do?
- Watch, mostly.

Mostly? Man, I ain't doin'
nothin' if he starts
playing with himself.

Don't worry, he won't do
anything in front of you.

- I might.
- He won't.

[Sinister music]

Well, tough guy...

here we are.

I have a joint.

Well, half a joint; I smoked
the other half this morning.

I don't know if it's gonna be
enough for all three of us.

You're jogging and
carrying a joint on you?

What the hell kind of
health program is that

The Peter Fonda Workout?

[Laughs] Oh man...
This is fucked up.

Does anyone besides me
here find this fucked up?

Why don't you light
up that joint, huh?

Okay, what the hell...

[Pulls knife out]

Knew I had you in
there somewhere...

[Serena screams]

Get the fuck up, asshole!

You're not fucking dead yet!!

Come on!

[Throws knife]

[Hitchhiker cries in pain]

Are you out of your fucking
mind, you crazy bitch?

[Music crescendos]

[Throws crowbar]

You know, I think it's time we
re-evaluated this relationship.

[Punch]

[Dramatic music]

[Kick]

[Pulls knife out]

You still feelin' froggy, huh?
You still feeling 7-Up?

Because we can dance
all day if you want to.

[Knife slashes]

[Knife stab]

[Knife cuts flesh]

[Guts splat]

Figures! I yell at you for

stabbing somebody in the
stomach and then I go
and fucking do it.

That's fucked up.

Help!

[Sets off car alarm]

Oh, shit...

[Car alarm continues]

Oh for Christ's sakes, get up!

[Stabs hand]

[Serena screams]

Asshole!

[Pulls hand off blade]

[Fast-paced music]

[Slashes Butch]

[Butch moans in pain]

[Butch starts laughing]

Now, what are you gonna do?

[Crowbar impact]

[Coughs blood]

[Music faster]

Hey!
[Crowbar impact]

What's this crawling
away shit, huh?
[Kicks Serena]

I mean, you really think
you're gonna get away
from me, do ya?

I mean, I'm no doctor...

but I'd say you're pretty
fucked up right now.

Don't you think?

[Cocks gun]

- Enough.
- Huh?

[Gunshot]

Fuck!

[Three gunshots]

[Butch moans]

[Serena drops gun[

[Serena panting]

How you doin'
over there, pumpkin?

[Slow music begins]

Stick a fork in me, I'm done...

You don't even remember, do you?

What?

That wasn't my
so-called "friend"

you killed two years ago.

[Unzips shirt]

It was my mother.

Me and my mother.

Y'know, the funny thing is...

I didn't even know it was you

until you went on to
kill all the other people

and the police
couldn't find you.

And when nobody could help me...

when nobody could make
things the way they were
before that night...

I decided it was time...

to come look for you myself.

Why the big
production number, huh?

Why didn't you just...
shoot me when we first met?

Oh, no.

I had to show you.

Show you what
I learned from you.

How to kill.

How to like it.

How to like it
enough to kill you...

[Drops crowbar]

Oh fuck it, I'm hurtin'...

[Butch laughs]

What's so funny?

I'm not Butch Harlow.

What?

I really am Walt Lipsky.

It's just that...

it's just that you came
to the house and

you were attractive

you thought I was this
Butch Harlow character,
so I played along.

You committed murder for me...?

Why would you do that?

I just thought it would be
neat to kill a couple
people, that's all.

[Butch & Serena laugh in pain]

Oh, Jesus!

Oh God and baby Jesus!

You never killed anybody
before you met me?

Well, I might have hit a
dog with my car once...

[Both laugh]

Oh, God, am I a bad influence...

Uh-huh, yeah...

[Flies buzzing]

I love you...

I love you, too.

[Flies buzzing]

[Country music plays]