L.A. Tool & Die (1979) - full transcript
[radio playing rock 'n' roll]
NEWS RADIO: ...to the Kitty
Hawk, which was deployed
to the Indian Ocean in
response to the crisis--
WOMAN ON RADIO: ...You
don't know what it is to love!
Is there any hope that you'll
come back to San Francisco?
MAN ON RADIO: My dear
Cordelia, the train's about to leave...
Now, I've got--
WOMAN: Just one more thing--
[radio scanning frequencies]
RADIO DJ: He's gonna be
doing that one live tomorrow night
and I guarantee you, as we broadcast
our holiday special right here--
RADIO PREACHER: Y'know, the Lord--
the Lord has his own ways of doin' things.
It's not up to us to question "why", y'know,
'bout the Lord, why he does things
this way 'n' why he does things that way.
Mind your own fuckin' business!
JIM: Howdy, Hank. Thought
I'd see you here today.
HANK: Don't let me stop you, Jim.
JIM: Nothing could.
This guy's real hot.
He's just about ready to pop.
MAN: Oh god! I'm gonna cum!
JIM: Ya facin' to say so long,
now that they shut down the yard?
HANK: Guess so!
JIM: Got some time?
HANK: Sure.
JIM: Good.
Why don't you take out that dick and
let everybody see what it looks like?
Heh...man...
I'm just about there already.
You wanna beat off?
Sure you do...
Why don't you jack that dick
off 'til you come onto my face?
Ah, yeah...
I just right like beatin'...
Workin' on this dick while you
guys beat those fuckers...
Yeah...
Oh yeah, I'm gettin' ready to shoot...
Yeah, I'm gettin' really close, man...
Yeah, I'm gettin' right there...
HARRY: [echoing] You're
doin' yourself a favor, Vic.
This is the best thing we ever bought into!
VIC: The fuck do I know about fag bars?
HARRY: You don't have to know nothin'!
All you do is go by a couple of
times a week, pick somethin' up.
VIC: What am I, a fuckin' errand boy?
HARRY: Look...maybe you'll learn somethin'!
VIC: Shit...
HARRY: Vic, it's only for a couple of
weeks 'til I can get somebody regular.
VIC: I don't know man.
HARRY: What did you think? It's catchin'?
As a favor to me, Vic.
VIC: Yeah. Okay. Sure.
HANK: Excuse me.
VIC: Watch it!
HANK: Take it easy,
man. Gotta get by, y'know.
VIC: Just watch it!
HANK: A bolter for ya, girl.
BARRY: Mhm, drivin' me crazy.
HANK: Fuck, man...
BARRY: Kept lookin' at you.
HANK: I know...
Wanna dance?
VIC: Jesus, they do that here, too? Jesus!
HANK: I think you're in
the wrong place, buddy.
VIC: You said it.
HANK: Howdy.
WYLIE: Hi.
HANK: What's happenin'?
WYLIE: Hey...I really
shouldn't have been in there.
HANK: Yeah?
WYLIE: Yeah.
I better be goin'.
HANK: You sure about that?
WYLIE: Y'know...
Y-You're okay...
In fact, I mean, you're really...
I just...
I...I don't think I'm into...sport fuckin'.
HANK: I gotcha.
Maybe another time.
WYLIE: I'm leavin' for L.A. in the mornin'.
I got a job waitin'. You know how it is.
HANK: Sure.
WYLIE: See ya.
HANK: You belong.
HANK: [echoing] That was the big one.
Sure was...
Sure as hell was...
Didn't even get his fuckin' name.
WYLIE: You're a fool...
You're a fool, Wylie!
VIC: Wow!
HANK: Nobody's gonna bite
ya, man. What are you afraid of?
VAC: You fuckin' faggot!
HANK: That's right. That
some kind of problem for you?
BARRY: Hey, Hank, do you wanna--
VIC: You guys make me wanna puke.
HANK: So, what's it gonnna be?
Are we gonna duke it out or what?
BARRY: Now, Hank...
VIC: Cocksucker!
HANK: You better believe it! If there's
anything I like better than sucking cock...
...it's kickin' ass!
[boxing bell]
VIC: You crazy fuck!
HANK: You blockhead!
VIC: You asshole!
HANK: You pork chop!
That jasper sure thought
he's a mean cuss, huh?
BARRY: You okay?
HANK: Sure, nothin' like a
punch-out to clear the head.
BARRY: You still thinkin'
about that guy Wiley?
HANK: Was that his name?
BARRY: Mm-hm!
HANK: First or last?
BARRY: Dunno. Just Wiley.
He was tellin' me about--
HANK: Did he tell you where he was goin'?
BARRY: Yeah. Said he was
goin' out west to a place called...
L.A...
L.A...
"L.A. Tool & Die"!
Hey, where are you goin'?
HANK: I'm gonna go find him.
[radio scanning]
RADIO PREACHER: Y'know, I think
Jesus has a sense of humor. I really do.
Sometimes I think the things that
he...well, take the Vietnam War!
Now there's a chuckle for
ya! Got rid of a lot of gooks, so.
Y'know, I don't mind sayin' by gettin'
rid of gooks because you know why?
Gooks don't believe in Jesus,
they don't, they believe in Buddha.
And y'know, anybody believe in
Buddha I don't have nothin' to do with 'em.
I figure, if you can't
believe in Jesus, fuck ya!
And fuck your mother and all her people!
[mortar fire]
WYLIE: Need a lift?
RAVEN: No, that's okay.
I don't have far to go.
WYLIE: It's pretty deserted out here...
RAVEN: Don't you worry about
me, honey, I can take care of myself.
Go on, I'm alright, honest!
WYLIE: Well...okay...
RAVEN: Hey, drive safely.
FRED: Hi, where ya goin'?
RAVEN: Not too far, can you help me out?
FRED: Sure thing, hop in!
My name is Fred, what's yours?
RAVEN: Raven.
FRED: I think that's
really unusual, isn't it?
RAVEN: Mm-hm.
Nice car.
FRED: Thanks. I just got it yesterday.
RAVEN: Too bad.
FRED: "Too bad"? I don't understand.
RAVEN: Well, you just got it yesterday
and you lost it today.
FRED: Oh, I don't believe this...
RAVEN: Believe it. Pull off over there.
Right here is fine. Stop.
FRED: Look, if it's money you want, I--
RAVEN: Get out.
Over there.
Right here.
FRED: Oh no, c'mon...
RAVEN: Put 'em on. First one...
Put your arms around the tree...
Okay, now the other.
Lock 'em.
[footsteps]
FRED: Hey!
Hey!
Over here!
Hello?
Help!
Hey, is anybody near me?
Hey, is somebody
there? I'm over here! Hello!
I...I can't see you!
Can you--
Oh shit, I'm gonna shoot it!
STRANGER: Raven wanted an extra 10 bucks.
FRED: How come?
STRANGER: She says it's
gettin' dangerous out here.
Some guy tried to pick her up.
FRED: So? Next time
we give her real bullets.
STRANGER: You wanna go back to the house?
FRED: Nah. Let's sit
by the fire for a while.
Sure is a nice night, huh?
WYLIE: [echoing] I'd better be goin'.
HANK: You sure about that?
WYLIE: I'm leavin' for L.A. in the mornin'.
HANK: Maybe another time.
HANK: Sorry 'bout that!
PETE: 's okay. - HANK: So long.
PETE: Thanks.
Mornin'! Fill 'er up?
WYLIE: Yeah. Uh, you got a men's room here?
PETE: Yeah, out back.
WYLIE: Thanks.
PETE: Take your time.
Nobody usin' it this time of day.
RADIO HOST: Alright! Let's hear it
for the guys at Yuma Air Force Base.
And now back to the serious news, people.
Events in the middle east, it says
here, continue to escalate to a crisis
situation not seen since the days
of our involvement in Southeast Asia.
[explosion]
Now, Earl Davis, coach,
Yuma High, 17 straight victories--
CARSON: Coach...I'm tellin' ya,
if you just give my kid a chance...
COACH: Mr. Carson, I'd like
to but Chris just isn't there yet.
CARSON: Coach...
COACH: My name's John, Mr. Carson.
CARSON: Earl.
COACH: Okay, Earl.
See the kid's scores.
He's on the right track.
But he needs another year at least.
CARSON: I haven't seen any scores.
You mean they're bad?
COACH: Look, there's
nothing to get uptight about.
C'mon, let's go over his record.
Sit down.
See? Chris is doing real good.
He's just about ready to move up.
Just give him some time. That's all.
CARSON: Yeah...
Yeah, I see what you mean.
COACH: You look like
you could use a drink, man.
CARSON: Probably could.
I guess I...
I let it get to me.
You know how it is.
Raisin' those boys by myself.
COACH: You divorced?
CARSON: Yeah.
COACH: That's tough.
CARSON: You tell me.
COACH: Lotta things you
gotta teach a young guy.
They gettin' horny yet?
CARSON: Whaddya mean?
COACH: You know what I mean. Kids that age.
Remember how it was? Getting real
stiff, wondering what to do about it.
CARSON: Yeah, I see
what you're talking about.
COACH: Do you?
CARSON: Sure.
Well, those were the days, weren't they?
Man, I used to come five, six times a day.
How about you?
COACH: Still do, sometimes.
CARSON: I spend all my
time thinking about pussy.
COACH: Wondering how
to get rid of all that cream?
CARSON: Yeah.
COACH: Looks like you're
throwing a hard-on, John.
CARSON: Looks like, Coa-- John.
COACH: That's okay.
You can call me coach.
CARSON: You sure nobody's around?
COACH: Nobody, Mr. Carson.
Come on. Cut loose.
[plane jets roaring]
That's it.
[crowd applauding]
That's it. How do you like that dick?
Nice juicy, hard fuckin' dick, huh?
More?
Yeah...You've done it before.
That's it, c'mon.
That's it. C'mon, man.
[persistent football spectator noise]
Nice, juicy dick.
[crowd noise intensifies]
Suck my dick.
Get your mouth on it.
Get your throat on there.
That's it!
You like sucking that dick
of your kid's coach, right?
Licking up that hot sweat, those juicy
balls, just eat that fucking dick, c'mon.
Get your mouth around it.
That's it.
[crowd cheering]
That's it, pull that dick all the
way down inside your mouth.
Feed on that shaft.
C'mon. Nice big fucking
dick for you to suck.
C'mon. Eat that, fucker.
Feel that dick up inside of you.
Just eat that dick. C'mon, baby.
That's it, get your mouth right down on it.
Feel those juicy balls
slapping against your chin.
C'mon, baby, just eat that fucker.
[unintelligible]
All the way.
I'll let you feel that fuckin' dick.
[unintelligible]
That's all my dick you've been lookin' at.
Take that, my friend.
Feel it up your ass.
[unintelligible]
Take that hot load...
That hot load on ya...
Let's see some hot cream
comin' out of that dick of yours...
Yeah, let's see it. Come on!
Let's see it. That's it!
[football crowd erupts in applause]
Bring Chris with you next time.
[both laughing]
Maybe you're right. Chris
could be ready for first rank.
CARSON: Just keep
your hands off him, fucker.
HANK: Water!
[distant explosions]
[gunfire and explosions]
JACK: Wiley...
WILEY: Take it easy, Jack.
You'll be okay.
JACK: Wiley...
WILEY: Jack, hold on, it's gonna be okay.
JACK: Wiley...It didn't work out...
Promise me you won't forget me...
WILEY: Jack!
JACK: Just let somebody
else in, someday...promise me...
WILEY: [sighs] It's a promise...
It's a promise, man.
RADIO PREACHER: Oh! I tell you one thing,
we got a new show comin' up on the...TV.
It's a good one, boy. It's
called "Bowling for Sinners".
That's what it is! We take sinners
and we stand 'em up down at
the line, y'know, down at a
bowlin' alley but instead of pins,
we make sinners stand up
in a line, and then we take big
rocks, and we roll 'em down
there and see how many we can kill!
HANK: Shit...
RADIO DJ: Here's a bulletin
from the California highway patrol.
90 mph winds along the coast.
All roads have been closed
between San Diego and Los Angeles.
Travellers are advised
to pull over to the side
of the road until the
early hours of the morning.
This is an emergency bulletin
from the California highway patrol.
Take care, people.
HANK: Boy howdy! Just
what the doctor ordered!
RADIO: Have you
started thinking about what
you're gonna do for your
holiday shopping this year?
Think about the crowds,
the parking, gas, in and out
of the car, going from
store to store for each family
member and friend, the decisions
and how much more Christmas
is gonna cost you this year!
And then think:
Great American Super Sale!
Jewelery! Leather bags! Jeans! Toys!
Do all your holiday shopping in one [...]
TANK: Can I help you?
WYLIE: Yeah, I'm lookin'
for the employment office.
TANK: You're in luck, they're hiring.
WYLIE: I know.
TANK: [unintelligible] See
where the guy's comin' out?
WYLIE: Yeah, thanks!
You okay?
GABE: [groans]
TANK: You need to stand up.
Does look like nothin's broken.
GABE: Oh shit, the car!
TANK: C'mon, let's get away from it.
Relax. You're okay.
GABE: It's my dad's
car. He's gonna kill me!
TANK: Look, I saw what
happened. Wasn't your fault, was it?
GABE: He's gonna go apeshit!
TANK: Listen, what's your name?
GABE: Gabe.
TANK: Gabe, I'm Tank.
Uh, do you want me to go with you?
GABE: I can't face him yet.
Anyway, he's gone 'til tomorrow.
TANK: But where are you gonna go?
GABE: I dunno.
TANK: C'mon, get up. You go home with me.
I'll get you a beer and we'll get
your shit together, then we'll see.
GABE: At least they gave me the job!
TANK: See, you got that, don't you?
HANK: That sure was
somethin' out there, wasn't it?
TANK: Lucky thing I got two bathrobes, eh?
GABE: You sure you
don't mind my staying over?
TANK: Hell no, I didn't have any plans.
Get on your feet.
GABE: I...
TANK: The couch fixes into a bed.
You don't wanna bunk with me, do you?
GABE: You don't have to go to any trouble.
TANK: Well, I'd let you
sleep in with me, but, uh...
I thrash around a lot and have
a hard-on most of the night.
You know how it is.
Matter of fact, I feel
like I'm gettin' one now.
GABE: I--
TANK: You don't have to say
nothin'. Your dick's saying it for you.
I think you and me are
gonna get along just fine!
WYLIE: ...that "sport fuckin'"
from when we first met?
HANK: Uh-huh?
WYLIE: Well. I've been
tryin' it out a little since then.
HANK: And?
WYLIE: Y-You've been real
good about not leanin' on me.
HANK: If it's gonna happen, it will.
WYLIE: I guess.
HANK: Hey, did I ever
tell you about my million?
WYLIE: What do you mean?
HANK: Oh sure, I got 'em!
HANK: I've been puttin' away everythin' I
ever earned on some land out in Porterville.
Sittin' in the Land Office for years.
Still never seen it.
Gonna go up this weekend
and take a look at it.
Finally paid it off the other day.
I'm gonna retire, man! Raise me
some oranges, live the good life.
I'm gettin' too old for this donkey work.
This independent contractor shit.
You wanna come up?
Take a look at it with me.
WYLIE: I dunno, I--
HANK: Hey, man, I'm
not askin' you to marry me.
Do you know how many
times a day you say no?
"No, no, no, no, no, no"...
Tomorrow's Saturday, right?
I'm gonna be at the Land Office
at noon to pick up that deed.
You wanna come?
Nah?
Well...
It's time to get back to work.
Eat these glasses up, bitch!
Thought you forgot, "sport fucker".
WYLIE: I thought there'd
be more room in the van.
That okay with you?
HANK: Sure!
RADIO: ...hope that the spirit of this holiday
season will be with you all year 'round.
Happy holidays from Household Sanaire. A--
HANK: Looks awful dry
for oranges...dont'cha think?
There's the marker! Turn off.
WYLIE: You sure this is it?
HANK: That's what it says...
There is the "one unit recreational shell".
Shit!
Goddamn, stupid, stupid fuck!
WYLIE: Take it easy, Hank.
HANK: Oranges!? This
land couldn't grow lint!
I don't have sense enough
to pour piss out of a boot!
I'll kill 'em!
Let's go...
WYLIE: Hank...
HANK: You don't understand!
I quit my fuckin' job!
WYLIE: Looks like they really got you.
The way this is written...
There's not much you can do about it.
You have water rights.
HANK: Shit, in this desert?
I bet the nearest water
mains is 50 miles away.
WYLIE: You got aerospace rights.
You got commercial rights.
HANK: And I'm supposed to
be up to my ass in oranges...
WYLIE: You can get your job back, Hank!
HANK: You think?
WYLIE: Are you kiddin'?
You're the best guy on the job.
You're reliable.
You know what you're doin'.
And you're easy...easy to...
HANK: Hey Wylie?
You sure got a glow on.
WYLIE: No, I...I'm serious.
You're easy to...easy to like.
HANK: Is that what it is, kid?
The old man's easy to "like"?
You fucker. I love you!
[distant explosion]
JACK: Wiley...
Don't forget me, man.
Just let somebody else
in, someday. Promise me!
Promise me!
WYLIE: It's a promise, man.
[hammering noise]
WYLIE: Hey, what are ya doin'?
HANK: I don't know! Maybe
I'll get my money back!
[faint rumbling]
[rumbling intensifies]
HANK: Holy shit!
What the fuck!?
WYLIE: Hank!
HANK: Didn't you say
somehtin' about water rights?
WYLIE: Yes! Yes!!!