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. Once in the house, Dave Grohl finds himself grappling with supernatural forces that threaten both the completion of the album and the lives of the band.

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!
J├Ągermeister! 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.