Studio 666 (2022) - full transcript

Legendary rock band Foo Fighters move into an Encino mansion steeped in grisly rock and roll history to record their much anticipated 10th album.

Why? We did everything!

Okay, so check it out.

are, like,

the best movies

in the last 30 years.

Did you see Kevin Costner?

He's a fucking merman!

Did you see the fucking things

behind his ears?

I mean,

that's where the gills were.

You know that, right?

He was, like, half fish.

is '80s.

Dune.

And also no Sting in...

It's a thong.

It's like a space thong.

Space thong?

You guys talking about Sting?

You know what Sting does?

Are you aware of this?

I don't know if you know this.

He delivers albums.

Where's my fucking record,

Grohl?

It's all up here.

- Oh, is it?

- Yeah, it's all up here.

And in there, and in there,

and in there, and in there.

Not so much here,

but I got it, man.

It's all in here.

I think, personally,

that doesn't amount

to a bucket of frozen shit.

I don't know where you get

a bucket of frozen shit,

but that's what it's about!

When you fucking tell me

you got a record,

all I got is a bucket

of frozen shit!

I'm up to my eyeballs

in debt...

and I gotta pay

some crazy piece-of-shit

motherfuckers

who I owe so much money to

and I just found out

they may be the ones

who fucking sliced up

that journalist in Turkey.

I just want to give you

the fucking album

that you want,

so you can pay off

those people

before they turn your nut sack

into a fucking coin purse.

- Relax.

- Oh.

- Did you just say "relax"?

- Yeah.

So here's the thing.

We were thinking...

it's our tenth album, okay?

We can't do the same old shit.

We gotta break

the fucking mold on this one.

Yeah, Shill, this record...

it's gotta fucking blow

your fucking dick

right into your fucking mouth.

Blow your own dick

into your mouth?

Yeah, right back up

into your mouth, man.

Right back up

into your mouth?

Like it's been there before?

What kind of goal is that?

I don't want that album!

Unless it makes me

a lot of money.

Lot of money?

Blow all the dicks you want.

Look, I can get you a studio,

anywhere you want in town

tomorrow.

We've used all those studios,

okay?

They all sound exactly

the fucking same.

Okay? Let's think

outside the box.

Let's go somewhere

we've never been.

Let's go to a cool place...

Like Zeppelin.

When Zeppelin

went to the castle...

and there was the devil

and the wizards

and the dragons and shit.

All right.

So, you want me to find you

some wizards and dragons?

Yes! That's what

we should be doing.

You want that? You want that?

Watch as I make this happen.

Holy shit. You fuckers are

not gonna believe it.

I got it. You gotta trust me

and let me do this.

Chilly Shills. What can

I do for you, sunshine?

Hey, Barb!

I'm here in my office

with the Foo Fighters!

And they're looking

for a place

to record a new album.

Are you thinking

what I'm thinking?

Oh.

I do know

what you're thinking,

and I have the perfect place.

Foo Fighters, oh, I thought

this time would never come.

Listen, I gotta jump.

But I'll shoot you the address

in the A.M.

This place is to die for.

Prozem high five, up top.

Jeremy is fucking smoking!

Hi, Dave Grohl.

I'm Barb Weems.

- How are you?

- Hi, Barb. How are you?

- I'm such a fan.

- Thank you.

I would love

to get a selfie later,

if that's okay with you.

- Okay.

- Hello, Foos! How are you?

It's so nice to meet you.

Barb Weems.

So this is the house,

and it is incredible.

I can't wait to show it

to you. Come on.

This place... Okay, I know

what you guys are thinking.

It needs a little

sprucey-goosey,

and I agree.

But here's the thing,

this place has some serious

rock and roll pedigree.

I mean, it rolls deep.

A huge music manager

owned this place

in the '70s and '80s

and threw some wild parties.

Come, come.

How sexy

is this stone-finished pool?

I can already see the girls

in their bikinis.

Ooh, it's gonna be fun.

Are you gonna invite me

to your parties?

Look at this

state-of-the-art kitchen.

Do we have any chefs

in the group?

I'm pretty handy on the grill.

- Oh.

- Yeah.

Right, guys?

Yeah, if you like

your meat charred and dry.

- Am I right?

- Mm.

Take a look at the other room.

Fuck you.

This is my favorite room

in the house.

These are original

Babette Fosters.

You know, they stopped

production

on those in the '80s.

I do love a good sconce.

But I don't know,

it definitely has

a weird energy.

You guys feel that?

You guys get

this overwhelming sense

of death and doom?

Or is that just me?

Yeah, like someone's gonna

jump through the window

and start stabbing us

in the eyes!

Okay, I'm gonna be

really straight

with you guys.

There was another band,

and they lived here

in the '90s.

They thought the sound

was incredible.

But they never finished

their album.

Creative differences.

I don't know.

Just doesn't really

seem like the right fit.

Whoa. You hear that?

That's fucking rad.

Whoa.

You hear that?

Okay, so if we put

the drums right here,

facing this way...

and then we could put

the guitar stuff right here.

And we could do keyboards,

like, over there.

We can put the mixing desk

in the bedroom up there.

Mm. You know.

We'll take it.

Oh, well, that is music

to my ears, baby.

I'll go draw up

that paperwork right now.

Yay, I knew you would love it.

Okay, you guys, check it out.

The sound of this house

is the sound of album 10.

No songs yet.

But we got the sound.

All right, you guys,

you know the drill.

All gear in the house.

Amps, living room.

Snare drum, shitty job,

living room.

Expensive shit, guitars,

by the amp line

in the living room.

Just fucking hate this shit.

It's like a quarter of an inch

that way. Just...

Just a little...

It's like a hair more.

Just like a tiny...

Now it's too far.

Gotta bring it back.

- Did you hear that?

- I did.

- Sweet, huh?

- Whatever, Dave.

Who cares

about a creepy death vibe...

drum sounds this good?

All right, here's the deal.

Shill's a dick,

- we know this, right?

- Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

But this is

our tenth record, okay?

It's gotta be good.

But we gotta make it fast.

We gotta eat, sleep,

and drink this motherfucker.

So I'm thinking...

we move in to record.

No, no, no. Hear me out.

Hear me out.

Two weeks, tops.

Maybe a month.

A month

in this fucking shithole?

And then we can go on

with our normal lives.

You tell my wife.

I'm not telling her.

I'll tell your wife

if you tell my wife.

I'll tell my own wife,

but someone's

gotta talk to my kids.

What am I gonna tell

my grandma?

Oh, I can call your grandma.

She loves me.

You remember

the Hanukkah party?

Come here, Grandma.

Sit down. Mm.

Come on, baby, just touch it.

Yeah!

Rami's not gonna know.

Mm!

bubbe!

Well, I guess that's settled.

I got master bedroom.

- Ooh, I get the guest house.

- I get guest bedroom.

No. No, no, no.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

Hello.

Hi. Excuse me.

Hey, hey, hey! Yo! Excuse me!

That's weird.

How we looking, man?

We all good?

Yeah, we're all good

on our end.

Just need some juice, and we can

start mic-ing up the room.

God damn it!

Dude, who wired this house,

a bunch of fucking

mental patients?

Fuck. Jesus Christ.

No, no, no! Don't touch him!

He's still hot!

- Oh, what the fuck?

- Holy shit!

Wow. He's totally fried.

He's fucking dead!

Oh.

Oh, man.

Krug! Krug!

Jägermeister! Krug!

Krug!

Guess we should pack up.

That was a short-lived

experiment.

You know, it's funny...

Hold on, guys.

One second. Check it out.

Krug was really

into this place.

You know,

the way the drums sounded.

Dave, seriously,

the guy just got turned

into a fucking bratwurst.

Exactly why

we should stay here

and make the record. Okay?

It'll give his life meaning.

You know?

We could dedicate it to Krug.

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

I guess we can do

a couple of drum tracks here

in his honor.

Exactly. That's what

I'm talking about right there.

We have to have some fun

with it, you know?

For Krug!

People think I look a lot

like Willie Nelson.

You know what, you guys?

I forgot to tell you.

Earlier today,

before Krug got zapped,

there was this weird dude

in the yard, creeping around.

What kind of dude?

Some weird guy

who was trimming the hedges

and stuff.

The killer gardener of Encino.

Wouldn't be surprised

in this house.

Oh, my God.

What the fuck! Shit!

Dude, you all right, David?

The meat...

it's Krug.

Ugh!

You know,

usually I have a clear idea

of what we're going to do...

but ever since we moved

into this house,

my mind is flooded...

where it's like,

sometimes it's like Prince

and then it's like Slayer.

Then it's like fucking

Lawrence Welk.

What is it?

You guys hear that?

Probably some raccoon,

'cause I heard them

eating the trash last night.

Probably that creeper dude!

He better not be filming this!

- Hey, neighbor!

- Argh!

God!

You should have seen

your face!

Or should I say "feces"?

I mean, you looked like

- you crapped your pants.

- Yep.

I'm Samantha.

I live right next door.

I just wanted

to introduce myself...

in case you boys

needed anything.

A cup of sugar.

Back-up singer.

I got another

confession to make

Were you born to resist

Or be abused?

Is someone getting the best

The best, the best

The best of you?

Oh. Thank you.

We'll let you know

about that one.

Okay. I'm around.

Let me apologize in advance

for all the rock

we're about to make.

Oh, I can't hear anything

over my Portuguese

singing bowls.

Ooh, those vibrations elevate

the frequency of the psyche.

Play your cards right,

maybe you will get

a sound bath later.

Okay, Rami-o.

Let's keep it moving.

Namaste.

Hey, is there some

sort of gardener dude

that takes care

of the property...

trimming hedges and stuff?

No, Dave. Nobody lives here.

This house has been empty

for years.

Okay, check it out.

I got a couple new riff ideas

I've been working on.

I'm gonna lay them on you.

Riff number one.

Sounds like this.

All My Life?

Shit.

Okay, no, no, no.

Hold on. I got one more.

Dude, wait, wait, wait.

That's a great fucking song.

Everlong,

and you wrote it

about 20 years ago.

What? The well's run dry.

I've written

all my songs already.

Ugh. All I have

are these random snippets

of fossilized MTV bullshit

in my head.

Dude, dude. Look here.

Have you ever

tried meditating?

Fuck meditating

in the ass, Rami!

All right, I'm gonna step out

for a minute, guys.

Why don't we give Dave

a little space here?

Something will come.

Ugh! Son of a fucking bitch!

I've been alone

with you inside my mind

In my dreams

I've kissed your lips

a thousand times

I sometimes see you pass

outside my door

Hello...

- Ahhh!

- Hello, Dave.

Lionel!

We all have writer's block,

you know?

Mm-hmm.

But that's my fucking song.

- That's my fucking song!

- Mm-hmm.

You understand

what I'm saying?

I like that song.

No, no, no. I love that song!

That's one

of my favorite songs.

- I love singing that song.

- Mm-hmm.

Love that song!

Get your own song!

Nerd.

Ugh. Taylor,

sleep in your own bed.

Taylor?

You...

are not...

the first!

Krug! Oh, my God,

I'm so sorry!

They are watching!

No, Krug!

What the fuck!

What the fuck!

Oh, my God!

Fuck this. I'm starving.

Yeah, I got, like,

three or four

chicken parms here?

Whoa. You're Dave Grohl! What?

Yeah, I get that all the time.

Uh, right. Yeah.

I heard about this.

You're, like, incognito,

right?

No, see, I'm not Dave Grohl.

Dave Grohl

can actually write music.

Don't. I'm seriously

a huge fan.

You're, like, my second

favorite band after Coldplay.

You know,

I asked for extra ranch.

Oh, yeah,

and I'll go run back,

get some for you.

Yeah, 'cause it'll only take

a few minutes.

You know, I'm in a band, yeah.

But, yeah, I'll run back

and get some ranch

and drop it off with my demo,

if that's cool.

I'll just use the marinara.

Hey, what's up?

and you've come here today

because you have

song-writing constipation.

So, when I have

song-writing constipation

and I want a violent,

greasy dose of the hits,

I turn to classic

riff structure,

like this. Check it out.

Part B.

Part C.

Am I the only one who cares

about the drought around here?

Oh, fuck.

Who kills a fucking raccoon?

Ugh.

He's real.

Dave...

Whoa.

"Dream Widow." No way.

This stuff's incredible.

Fuck, yeah.

It's the sound.

It's this fucking sound.

Yes! Fuck, yes!

Fuck!

It's fucking incredible!

No, no, no, no.

No, no, no, no. Don't stop.

There's gotta be more.

Fuck, there's gotta be more.

Please, God.

Please, please, please.

Fuck!

No. Shit! God damn it!

God, it was perfect!

Finish it and it begins.

Finish it. End it.

Finish it and it begins.

Fuck.

Finish it.

What are you doing?

There's a dead raccoon

in there.

Dick.

- Wow.

- Awesome, man.

Fuck. It's like you were

musically constipated

and now you just took

the biggest musical shit

on us.

- Fucking awesome!

- I know, right?

I'm still working on it.

It's like a hundred ideas

in my head

just fighting to get out.

Could be a double,

maybe a triple album.

- I don't know.

- Let's get to work.

Fuck you, Nate.

Don't tell me what to do,

asshole.

Told you it would come, man.

Yeah, you did, didn't you?

What key is this in?

L sharp.

You found a new musical note?

Hell motherfucking yes, I did.

Came to me last night.

Just dropped in my head.

Like, boom!

You're welcome, music.

So, the L sharp,

that's basically an E flat,

only like an octave up?

It's not an E, it's an L.

If you guys could just, like,

open up your hearts

and minds,

you know, maybe you'd be able

to hear it.

So, what happened to...

H, I, J, K?

G, H

I don't give a fuck!

It's L sharp, okay, you guys?

That's the root note

of the song.

Yes, yes,

you're getting warmer. Yes.

Pat, you're cold,

like North Pole, Antarctica.

Not even close.

I think I'm feeling something.

Oh, God. Who the fuck!

Hello?

Oh. Any hungry rock stars

in there?

Brought some num-nummy treats.

Oh, God, I detest that woman.

Ugh!

- Lemon bar?

- Go away!

Dude, lighten up. She's hot.

- Hello, beautiful. What's up?

- Hey.

Some fresh-baked lemon bars

for my favorite band.

It's my grandma's recipe,

but I added

my own little twist to it.

- Ooh, is that cocaine?

- Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm.

Not a good time right now

'cause we're working

on music, okay?

How you feeling?

Everything okay?

Never better.

I'll get rid of her.

Get her the fuck out of here!

Hey. Sorry,

he gets really intense

when we're recording.

I need to talk to you, alone.

Ooh, I'd like

to get you alone, too.

No, it's about this house.

There's something evil.

I should go.

Dave seems stressed.

Hey, how about

that sound bath later?

- What the fuck, cock-blocker!

- Fuck you, Rami!

Wait, wait, wait!

Hold on, hold on, hold on.

Uh...

Taylor, take it from the boom-

bah-boom-bah-boom-bah part.

There's like eight thousand

boom-bahs.

- Which one do you mean?

- You know which one.

You know we're coming in at,

like,

23 minutes and counting, right?

So what? So maybe we have

a song that has no end.

So, we're not close.

I mean,

to me it just feels like

there's something missing,

you know?

Uh, you know, guys,

let's just run through

what we've got.

I'm sure you'll get it.

Thanks, Chris.

You fucking asshole!

Go!

One, two, three, four.

- Nate!

- What?

I got an idea, okay?

Downstairs, now. Let's go.

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.

Peter.

Yo, what up, D?

I got an idea.

Come downstairs.

- Are those mine?

- Oh, yeah. I borrowed them.

- Have you seen Pat?

- No idea.

Hey, Pat!

In here.

What are you doing in here?

Well, this is

the most comfortable place

I could find.

And there's snacks.

Oh.

- Voila!

- You made this?

Yeah. It's like the only thing

that'll get this song

out of my head, you know?

- And that's the song?

- Exactly.

So, each one

of these little nails

is one of us.

The yarn represents

the vibrations of sound

that our music makes,

connecting all of us

in an unending form.

It's like the universe...

You know, there's

no beginnings, no end.

Great, Dave.

Can we pick this up

in the morning?

Well, I kind of had these

new ideas, and I was hoping...

maybe we could put them down

tonight so I don't forget them.

No, man, I gotta go to sleep.

I'm tired.

What did you just say?

Come on,

I don't even have a bedroom.

I never get any sleep.

Let's just do this tomorrow.

Before that. Small word.

Begins with an N,

ends with an O.

Nothing in between.

No. I said no.

No?

Did you just say no...

to Dave Grohl?

I'm a fucking rock star! Okay?

I get whatever I want,

whenever I want!

The best parking wherever I go

for eternity!

Them's the rules!

Come on, come on.

Talk to Jimmy Page

if you don't like it.

Dude, what the fuck?

I'll do it if you stop being

such a fucking dick!

Thank you.

Can we just do this, please?

- One, two, three...

- No, no, hey, hey!

Is there any way

you could count it like:

five, six, seven, eight!

Like a fucking dancer

counting in a dance?

That's fine. Cool.

Five, six, seven, eight!

Dude has gone

fucking crazy!

Like, ass-flapping,

dick-slapping,

crazy.

Listen. Come on, guys,

let's just buckle down,

give him what he wants,

and we can get the fuck

out of here.

- Yeah, but what does he want?

- Hey, guys!

Ixnay on the Aveday.

- What's up, guys?

- Hey.

- What's happening?

- What's up?

I just wanted to say...

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry

for being such a giant, red,

puckered orangutan's asshole

last night.

This album means

the world to me, okay?

And I think I just

let it take over,

and I treated you like shit...

and I'm really sorry.

Which one of you gave Dave

a hummer?

- Rami.

- Rami.

Listen, we're so close, okay?

If we could just finish

this song tonight,

we'll be out by Sunday.

Promise.

Stick with me. We can do this.

The song is

pretty epic, dude.

Right? I do think it should

have an ending, by the way.

- Thank God.

- Okay.

So I have this idea, right?

It starts with Nate.

The root, the foundation,

the bass.

Nate goes...

Chris, Rami,

you come in like warships,

banging off each other.

Then, Rami, you're all...

Pat, Taylor, you come in

like riders of the Apocalypse.

- Whack!

- Whoa!

Whack!

- Whack!

- Yeah!

Bam!

Like that!

You know what I'm saying?

We got this. Right?

- Yeah, we can do this.

- Pearl Jam high five.

Pearl Jam high five.

Break! We're still alive.

Come on, let's go!

You sure you want us

to leave?

I think we're all good.

All right. Well, if you track

anything this weekend,

just pop it onto a drive,

and we'll mix it on Monday.

Let's get out of here.

How's it going, bro?

How's it sounding?

It's good. I'm just

cleaning up some tracks.

Cool, man. I haven't seen you

eat anything all day.

Are you hungry?

How about

some grill action, dude?

No. I ordered

a shit-ton of steaks earlier.

The guy should be here

any minute.

Cool, man. I'll let you know

when he's here.

All right.

"Oh, Dave, I forgot you were

staying here!

"Oh, well,

here's your food and, uh...

"Yeah, I brought you that CD

I was talking about."

Oh, he's not gonna buy that.

Come on!

You are a worthy

and talented musician.

I'm a worthy

and talented musician!

"Hey, Dave. Brought you

a bunch of extra ranch

this time, man.

"Oh, this? It's my demo

that I told you about. Yeah."

Dave?

Hello? Dave?

Oh, hey,

sorry it took so long.

Yeah, I just wanted

to make sure

they got your order right.

It's all back here. I got...

Dave!

What the hell?

Hey, did that delivery guy

ever show up?

Yeah, I don't know.

Gonna take a look.

Looks like he just

dropped the bags and left.

You know, I think

I kind of freaked him out.

He wanted

to drop a demo on me.

- Mm.

- I wasn't really in the mood.

Mm.

What is it?

Think he's still out there?

You can never have

enough ranch.

Okay, so what's left?

So...

drum tracks tomorrow...

and then

we just gotta figure out

how to end this thing.

We're not actually making

a 38-minute-long song, right?

- No.

- Okay, cool.

It's gonna be

fucking longer than that.

- What?

- Huh?

- What?

- It's gonna be epic, man!

It's gonna be

like 2112 times 2112.

What?

Hey, buddy, why don't you

let me take the grill

tomorrow night?

It seems like you got a lot

on your mind.

Okay.

Just leave mine raw, dude.

It's so fucking juicy.

Hey, guys, it's Barb!

I'm just checking in

to see

how everything is going.

Oh, my God.

They are barbarians.

Oh, my goodness,

it's on the ceiling.

Okay, how do they even

do that?

Ugh.

Oh, my God.

What did you do?

- Hey, Barb.

- Pat!

I thought you were dead.

Wow. Uh...

How is everything going?

Is, uh, is Dave done

with his big concept album?

- He told you about that?

- Oh, yeah.

I guess he's been talking

to Shill.

They seemed pretty excited.

- Where is everyone?

- Upstairs, sleeping.

Oh.

I used to sleep here,

but not with all this crap

on it.

A lemon bar?

No, thank you.

I don't eat sugar or gluten.

Or any citrus fruits,

or dairy, or corn.

It's terrible for your gut.

Mm.

You know,

they actually look homemade.

Is there a baker in the band?

Mm-mm. Lady next door?

Samantha?

That woman is a train wreck.

I've known her for years.

- "Sacrifice"?

- What did you just say?

I did, uh... Me... Huh?

Um, I don't know. Nothing.

Hey, Barb.

What's up? You made it.

David, how goes it?

Is the album almost done?

Yeah, it's so good.

- Yeah, it's killer.

- Oh.

Yeah, we're actually

wrapping up tonight.

Oh, great.

So I should make arrangements

accordingly then.

I'm gonna go freshen up.

Hmm, interesting guy.

He's the best.

All right. Wait, wait, wait.

Stop, stop, stop.

Something's not right.

It's the ending.

You know,

there has to be more.

You know,

if we just stopped recording,

it would be over!

Yup. A tight

44 fucking minutes.

And then ending in a nice

slow fade '70s style.

'Cause, dude, I have blisters

on my fucking blisters.

My hands are killing me, dude.

Yeah, we've been looking

for this mythical

fucking ending all day.

You know what,

I'm fucking out of here.

Whoa!

Frigging dick sandwich!

Fuck you, Shifty!

What the fuck?

Forty-minute fucking song.

"Look at me. I'm Dave Grohl,

the big fucking genius.

"I don't have

any fucking rules.

"I write songs

with no fucking endings.

"Forty minutes long."

He can't even cook

a piece of meat

to save his life.

Hey, Shifty,

need a beer or anything?

Yeah, to shove up

Dave's fucking ass!

Fucking blisters, man.

I should start wearing

those stupid fucking gloves.

Fuck this, man.

I'm outta here.

Just hang out.

Chris just had

to blow off some steam.

We should get Dave

one of those magnet bracelets.

His energy's way off.

What the fuck is that?

Oh! See?

Fucking horrific, isn't it?

Who the fuck is that?

And where the fuck

is his head?

It's the delivery guy.

Look at all this ranch.

Holy shit!

Holy shit!

That's the guy that delivered

all the food earlier.

Don't touch that.

No, no, no. Ugh.

Dave, Dave, don't... Ugh!

"Bone Structure."

He wanted me to hear this.

How long has this guy

been here?

I'm picking up

some energy beacons.

He transitioned

around 28 hours ago.

Where the fuck

did you learn that?

Pasadena.

First, Krug gets

electrocuted, and now this?

Fuck this shit.

I'm calling the cops.

- No, no, no. No cops!

- Fuck this shit.

No fucking cops!

What the fuck!

Maybe Dave's right. We should

call Shill. I mean, look at...

If this gets out,

it's gonna be bad.

Listen, no cops, no Shill.

Okay, we cannot afford

that intrusion right now.

Guy looks like a fucking

salami sandwich up there.

- What the fuck?

- I understand.

This is bad. And this is sad.

But if we call the cops

right now...

they're gonna turn this place

into a crime scene

and you can kiss that awesome

drum sound goodbye forever.

- So, we just keep on going?

- Yes! One more day.

We finish this thing out,

okay, and then we can

call everybody.

We can call the FBI,

CSI, NCIS.

We'll call them all.

And then we'll give, uh...

Darren Sandelbaum,

from Bone Structure,

a proper burial.

Caskets, flowers,

the whole nine.

We can even tweet a link

to the Bone Structure

on our Insta-thing.

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

- You know what I mean?

This is what Darren

would have wanted.

And he might have wanted

- to keep his fucking head.

- Yeah.

He didn't want

to fuck up our record!

He loved this band.

He died for our band.

Let's do this, you guys. Okay?

Do it for Darren Sandelbaum.

You guys in?

You in?

- Well...

- Are you guys in?

Come on, let's get to work.

Oh, by the way, I'm gonna need

everybody's cell phones

and the keys to the van.

'Cause no one's going anywhere

until we finish this song.

Thank you.

Thank you. Thank you.

Thank you.

I don't have

a phone anymore.

Thank you.

It all comes back

to the L sharp. Got it?

Yeah, we got it.

Totally got it.

Let's just track the song

so we can go home.

I'm tired.

My kids think I'm dead.

And where's Shifty?

He should be here.

He was out by the grill.

He's gone.

Okay, let's just do this

one more time.

- Count us in.

- Five, six, seven, eight...

Actually, no.

You know what, this time...

odd numbers only

in this section.

One, three, five, seven.

Hit it.

Okay.

One, three, five, seven.

He's still eating.

Let's go.

He came out of here.

- I was back here eating chips.

- Big surprise.

Then I found this.

The neighbor lady that left

the lemon bars left this.

It's a code!

She's been trying to warn us!

You just want

to fucking bang her, Rami.

Yes, I want to bang her.

But I also want

to not get decapitated.

Let's go ask her.

She's always by the fence.

Let's go.

That's you?

I thought we had

an infestation

of yellow warblers.

That was the wood thrush,

genius.

Not here,

little thrush.

Come to the pool.

We don't have much time.

Guys! Hey!

Come here! Now!

How did you get over there

so fast?

Now!

I need you boys

to open your minds

for a moment...

and fucking listen.

This house, this is not just

a creepy rock and roll house.

We are standing on a nexus

that allows spiritual entities

to cross into our world.

Can it, drummer boy.

You ever hear of Dream Widow?

Of course.

They were supposed to be

the next Jane's Addiction.

Greg Null was

a fucking genius.

Yeah,

till he went batshit crazy

and killed

his whole fucking band.

Right here in this house.

Yeah, that's just

rock and roll folklore.

Mm-mm, I was there.

Greg Null and I were close.

Very close.

I was his number one groupie

and muse.

Now we're taking advice

from groupies?

Hey, watch the labels.

Groupies are people, too.

You gotta understand,

this was the roaring '90s.

No one gave a fuck about shit.

But Greg, he was a visionary,

an artist of the dark.

We were all into some

experimental life choices

back then.

The occult sex,

energy transfers,

and spectrophilia.

He possessed

this living book

made from human flesh.

The book was rumored to hold

the secret incantations...

of Aleister Crowley.

As time went on,

something truly sinister

took a hold of Greg.

He was obsessed with this song

from the book...

Lacrimis de Ebrius.

"The tears of God."

Every day he made his band

try to complete this song.

He believed that perfecting it

would open

an eternal portal...

and the spirit inside him

would become

a demonic passage...

into our world.

You guys were ghost fuckers?

Somehow, the good won out

in Greg

and he stopped it

the only way he could.

Greg killed himself

to stop the completion

of the song.

But now, the spirit

that possessed him

has found a new instrument.

Go! Go! Go! Go! Faster!

Go! Hurry!

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Oh, shit.

Fuck. Fucking dolls.

What the fuck!

God damn it!

I didn't spend

the last 20 years

teaching Pilates in Encino

so that thing

can have its way!

You moved next door

to this place on purpose?

Someone had

to guard the portal.

Yeah, well,

he's already been possessed.

What are we gonna do now?

Bring him down here.

Maybe I can just suck it out

the old fashioned way.

- Oh, hell, no. Bad idea.

- Oh, sorry. Old habits.

There's got to be

a better way.

Uh, we just call the cops.

Oh, my God,

that's such a good idea.

"Hi. Dave Grohl's

been possessed

"by the spirit of Greg Null.

"Now he's on

a murderous rampage."

Best idea I've heard since,

"Hey, let's move

into this house."

Okay.

What the fuck should we do?

Come on.

The book.

It uses blood to stay alive.

He uses, um, raccoons.

Ah, the basement.

He said something

about raccoons

when he came up

from the basement.

Okay. Find the book.

Turn to a passage

called Van Houten's Protocol.

That will close the portal

and send this fucking spirit

back to hell.

What about you?

You're going to be in danger

now that you've

told us all this.

Ugh.

You wanna stay back

and make sure I'm safe?

She's right. Nate, Pat,

you guys go find the book.

Taylor, go keep Dave occupied.

Drum tracks.

You haven't done

any drum tracks yet.

I ain't going anywhere near

that fucking psycho.

Fuck that.

No, just go up there

and fuck up the drums

so he can't finish the song.

Shouldn't be too hard for you.

Eat a bag of dicks, Smear.

Be careful,

this is far

from a simple possession.

That caretaker is

more than just Greg Null.

There is an evil spirit

inside him.

- Let's go.

- No, I said I'm not doing it!

I'm not going near

that motherfucking house!

Come on!

Let's go! Come on!

Fuck you,

motherfuckers!

Yes.

- He took the fucking SIM card!

- Quick.

I'll keep you so fucking safe

right now.

I bet you will.

I wanna take this off.

Take this off.

Can't get it off!

Wait, wait, wait.

Put some music on

so Dave doesn't hear us.

All right.

Okay, let's go.

Maybe I should wait up here,

to be a lookout?

No fucking way, dude. Come on.

My latest guilty pleasure.

Ooh. That is my shit! Mm!

Mm-hmm.

Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh.

This is my favorite part!

This is my favorite part!

Ooh, you're nasty.

I like that.

Jesus...

somebody lived down here.

Greg Null,

or whatever he is now.

Ugh. Fuck, dude. Look!

"The sacrifice

feeds the book."

Poor little guy.

Pat, find me something

to pry this open with.

Fuck!

Come on!

Hey, buddy.

How you doing, man?

The ending.

I can hear it.

All we need to do

is lay down the drums.

The drums?

Why don't you and Shifty

do some more guitars?

Shifty's done.

Warm up.

You're next.

- What's happening?

- Fucking hell!

With these

fucking demons!

There's, like,

real fucking demons, Nate!

Lacrimis de Ebrius.

Demonic incantations.

Ah. Here we go, exorcisms.

No, no, no, that's not it.

That's not it.

You're doing this

on purpose, man.

No, man. I'm just trying to

get this fucking ending right.

Okay, it's fucking simple.

It just goes...

I'm pretty sure that's

what I was doing, man.

Pretty sure it's not.

Dude, why don't we just wait

for Nate and Pat to get here?

Nate and Pat?

Fuck them!

What do they know

about fucking drums?

You and me, right?

We're drummers.

We speak the same language.

Let's finish

the fucking track.

Can't we just wait, dude?

Let's just finish

the fucking track

and get out of here!

It's not Dave.

You're not Dave.

What did you just say?

I didn't say anything, man.

Just play the fucking drums!

Yeah. That's it.

Yeah!

That's it!

There you go, man.

I finished the fucking song.

You did.

Thank you.

"The Van Houten Protocol

for Demonic Cleansing.

It's imperative to confirm

the possessing entity

is of demonic origin...

before employing

these techniques.

Look for these signs.

One, digestive system

shutdown."

No more oatmeal beer bongs

for Davey.

"Ability to levitate objects

or defy gravity."

Just play nice with

this L sharp bullshit, right?

Play E flat

and get through it.

It's an L! L!

"Incessant masturbation."

Dave!

What are you doing in there?

Sounds like

you're playing patty cake

with a soft chicken dumpling!

- Didn't he do that already?

- Does that disqualify him?

This demonic shit's

complicated.

"Insatiable hunger

for raw meat,

human flesh in particular."

Fuck, I think he ate Chris.

Fuck, he's definitely

possessed.

Okay. So, what do we do?

We go save his ass.

That's not good.

What's he doing?

Oh, my God.

I think we're too late!

That's Taylor! Look!

Read the book.

We gotta stop this!

Here we go. To begin

the Van Houten Protocol...

Quiet!

Fuck!

Fuck.

What the fuck!

Jesus! Jesus! Fuck!

Close the door!

All right,

all right, all right.

"The vessel must be purified

to release

the infecting spirit.

Copious amounts

of Holy Water..."

The pool!

"Under the designations

of these sacred passages,

I anoint this body of water

as a conduit of purity."

Oh.

That won't work.

You don't know

what you're doing.

Whoa, whoa.

Hurry up and read!

"Heavenly Father, Holy Spirit,

rebel son Jesus,

bestow your divine power

into this water

that we may wash Dave clean

from this foul demon!"

Something's happening!

Yes, your death

is being delayed.

The fucking demons!

Give me the fucking book,

or I'll rip it

out of your dead hands!

"Hear us, Lord,

come cleanse the soul

of this infernal beast

that hath taken Dave

and turned him

into a satanic vessel

from hell!"

Stop reading

that fucking book!

Fuck you! We want Dave back!

Dave? Dave's been gone

for decades.

He's a slave to music.

What about our band?

The band?

What about them?

Rami got what he wanted.

Taylor finished the song.

And Chris... Chris was right.

He does make

a killer barbecue.

"Demon of the Twelfth Realm,

defiler of souls...

sitting at the left hand

of Lucifer..."

You're weak! You're nothing!

I'll crush

your pathetic souls!

"I command you to be gone

from this human vessel!

Take leave

of this innocent body...

and return to your kingdom

of blasphemy and filth!"

Oh, Demon!

Let Dave fucking go!

Do you see him?

Where did he go?

- Where is he?

- I don't know.

Oh, my God!

You guys!

Oh, God.

Ugh, last thing I remember

is that fucking raccoon, man,

and then poof!

Dude, we got some bad news.

Oh, my God, the song.

We cannot

finish the song, okay?

Whatever's in that basement,

we can't let it out.

No, it's about the guys.

I think I swallowed

some pool water.

I fucking love you guys, man.

I fucking love you.

You totally saved my...

Oh, gross!

Is that Shifty?

God, that tastes like shit!

It's all right, buddy.

You're okay now.

Oh, God.

No.

No! No!

Now I'll kill you,

like the rest

of your pathetic little band.

Fuck you! Fuck you!

Fuck you!

Fuck you!

Killed us. Crushed our dreams.

You were weak.

The curse is lifted.

Now you will suffer.

Suffer. Suffer. Suffer.

The sacrifice feeds the book.

Thank you.

Okay.

Get me the fuck

out of here, man.

The fucking van.

Hey, we're gonna grab the van.

Stay here.

Okay.

Oh, fuck! We gave shitty Dave

the keys! Ugh.

Just get in.

What are you doing?

I'm gonna do it

the old-fashioned way.

Hit the gas

when the wire makes contact.

What?

You need to hit the gas

when I spark it!

What are you doing here?

See if there's

any others left.

Oh, my God.

Shill, thank God you're here.

This house is a fucking

shit show, man!

You have no idea

what we just went through.

The devil rules

all of rock and roll.

What? No, no, no. Listen.

This place

is a disaster, okay?

It's been a fucking nightmare

recording here!

Why did you send us

to this house?

Don't give me

your sob story, Dave.

I know exactly

what's going on.

- You do?

- Oh, yeah.

You know, rock and roll...

It hasn't been relevant

for a long time.

It needs an infusion.

Okay, I don't know

what kind of weird shit

you're into...

The devil will make

rock and roll relevant again.

The devil

will make it dangerous.

You finished the song,

didn't you, Dave?

Uh...

No, not yet. It's complicated.

We're close.

It's just the arrangement

and the composition is...

I've been waiting 20 years

to finish that song!

I just needed

the right vehicle.

Someone who could handle

all that evil.

I needed you.

First of all, Obi-Wan Kenobi,

nice fucking cape.

Second of all,

you're so fucking lame!

Who the fuck

do you think you are?

Sending us

to this fucking shithole

to make a record?

You're just a manager, okay?

You don't know the first

fucking thing about music!

You just wanna

make your money.

I made you!

Pat! Pat, there's something

back there, come on!

Oh, shit!

Pat, move, move, move!

What the fuck do you think

I'm doing? Hold on a minute!

Oh, motherf...!

Dude, the time is

fucking nigh! Start the car!

Nate, give me a fucking

minute! I almost got it!

Come on, move!

It's getting closer!

It's almost here, Pat.

Come on!

What the fuck are you

doing down there?

Dude! Pat, now, now, now!

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know,

I know, I know! Hold on!

Hi, guys.

Stop fighting me,

Dave.

Stop fighting me.

I'm trying to help you!

The real you!

Donke zonke allar beiga!

Beiga zonke!

Here it comes! Spark it!

Nate!

Oh, fuck! Pat! Fuck.

Pat! Sorry, Pat! I'm sorry!

Barb?

Help? I killed my band

because of your help!

Die, you cocksucker! Die!

You finished it.

You finished the song,

didn't you?

You finished it.

You finished it.

You did, didn't you?

Ah.

Look at the rage in your eyes.

You're not Dave Grohl.

It's time

for your solo career.

We're ready for you, brother.

That is a full house

out there.

You all good, Dave?

Never better.

Okay.