The Runaways (2010) - full transcript

What am I gonna do?

Oh, shit.

You have to get it now?

Why does everything
happen to you first?

Here, take these.

You took Ma's heels?

Like she's ever worn anything twice.

Besides, you should be
more worried about her finding out. . .

-. . .how old your skanky boyfriend is.
-Does your boyfriend have a car?

I'm sorry,
do you even have a boyfriend?

Maybe I don't want a boyfriend.



No way.

Nice.

You're officially a woman.
Let's fucking celebrate.

Derek, did Marie tell you
that she's not wearing any underwear?

Really?

I hope that runs in the family.

Are you just gonna hang around...

. ..or are you actually gonna
buy something this time?

Hey, honey, you're looking
in the wrong section.

The Women's section
is on the other side.

I want what he's wearing.

Oh, dude.

-Who am l?
-Elvis.

No, man.
I'm the fucking Glycerine Queen.



Suzi Quatro.

-l'm the fucking wild one.
-Yeah!

Mom's gonna kill you.

-lt really looks terrible.
-Good.

Crap.

Here, let me help you.

Fuck.

My brother says that guys
don't like girls that are tough.

He says guys like girls
that are soft and flirty.

Yeah, he would say that.
He's a pussy.

He does spend a lot of time
doing his bangs.

Next contestant,
from Mrs. Morgan's 1 0th grade class...

. ..Cherie Currie performing
"Lady Grinning Soul."

Nice pants!

Yeah!

-Sit down.
-Love you, Cherie!

You suck.

-l love it!
-Freak.

You go, Cherie!

We love you!

Stay up there, Cherie!

Sit down now, please.

-Cherie!
-She's going off.

Just keep working on those scales.

-l'll see you next week.
-Okay. See you.

Joan Larkin.

It's Jett. Joan Jett.

Come on in, Joan Jett.

All right. Here.

Okay. Well, let's get started.

-So what kind of amps you guys got?
-Amps?

Well, why don't we just keep it
unplugged for now, okay?

All right. A--

Well, l wanna play, like, Chuck Berry,
you know, "Johnny B. Goode"?

Why don't we just start
with a G chord?

A G chord to a C, to a D.
How's that?

G chord, like that.

On top of Old Smokey

All covered with snow

Now we're gonna go to a D.

I lost my poor sweetheart

To the G.

From courting too slow

-You see that? Did you see--?
-"Old Smokey"?

That one's goofy, man.

I mean, at least teach me "Smoke on
the Water." l know you know that one.

Girls don't play electric guitars.

On top of Old Smokey

-All covered with snow
-Covered with slow

I dumped my poor sweetheart

For screwing too slow

That's not funny, Miss Larkin.

I can teach you to play the guitar,
but you're gonna have to--

Excuse me, what are you doing?
Excuse me?

Excuse me, I don't think
you ought to do that right now.

Turn that off, please. Turn it off.

Hello?

Happy birthday, kitten.

Hey, Daddy. l saved you the best piece
of cake, the one with my name on it.

-Know why?
-Tell me.

Because guess who ruled
the school talent show.

-You?
-Yeah.

Well, me and David Bowie.
But when are you gonna get here?

The cake's gonna melt and Mom says
there's no room left in the freezer.

Well, l can't, kitten.
I got-- I gotta stay late tonight.

I'm sorry. I'll be by tomorrow, promise.
I only have a few minutes, though...

...so why don't you let me
say hi to the other kitten.

Marie's out with her friends.

What, you didn't wanna go?

-No.
-Okay. Well, give her a pet for me.

I love you, kitten.

Love you too, Daddy.

Yeah. So wacky though, right?

-No. I could do all right.
-Right there, that's right.

-You gonna go dance?
-l don't know.

-You like it strong, don't you?
-Yeah, I like it....

No, I can't.

-lt's too much.
-This is fine, okay?

All right. Let's keep it going all night.

Here is more
supersonic sounds of London.

Yeah!

That's Kim Fowley.

You see that guy over there?
That's--

He's a famous record producer.

This is Dick Johnson.
He'd like to produce you.

Well, tell Little Richard to heel,
all right?

No?

Just...

...stay.

So he got really in.

-Hey.
-Hey.

You need a cab or something?

No.

Yeah.

-He's--
-You're Kim Fowley?

I am the King Hysteria himself.

And let me guess,
you sing in a band...

...and it's the greatest band
in the world...

...and l am the luckiest dog fucker
in outer space...

...because I get to hear it first, right?

I'm Joan Jett.

I play--

I play guitar. Electric guitar.

Joan Jett, that's a cool name.
You guys got a demo?

No.

No, I don't--

No guys.
I wanna start an all-girl rock band.

Really?

Maybe I am the luckiest
dog fucker after all. Hey, Sandy.

Hold on, I'll be right back.

Sandy West is a drummer.

Joan Jett claims to be
some sort of guitar goddess.

Well, l didn't say that goddess thing.

No, no, it's cool, man. These guys are
talking about going to some party...

...on the south side. lt's supposed
to be bitchen. You wanna go?

No, I mean, I can't tonight.
But we should jam.

-Yeah.
-You play drums?

Yeah, let's play.

See what kind of noise you two make,
call me if you have something...

...that won't make me regret
giving you my number, okay?

Okay.

Cool, so we'll play.

Hey.

Okay, l get it. Yeah, that's enough.

Hey. Hey, hey, hey. Joan?

Hello?

Pick up the phone!

-Dog meat!
-Hi, sorry.

Hey, what the fuck
you girls been doing over there?

Well, we've been practicing, man,
like you said.

Oh, yeah?

Well, get back to it.

You bitches are gonna be bigger
than the fucking Beatles.

-Cool.
-Yeah.

All right.

Let's do it.

Ready? One, two, three.

-Hello, Mrs. West. ls Sandy home?
-Oh, God.

Tougher, tougher, tougher.

Come on.

I mean, come on,
this is really good music.

There's nothing like this on the radio.
There's nothing.

Elvis and Priscilla got divorced...

...the president is a prowler...

...and all these housewives
talk to their fucking plants.

Now, you dogs need to get dirty.
All those little fuck boys out there...

...are wearing dresses
and leaving their lipstick...

...on each other's cocks, okay?

Now, l wanna hear you
fuck girls growl!

Halt.

I know what we're missing.

-l know what we need.
-What are we missing?

Bitchen.

Hey, I like your pants.

Thanks.

Kim Fowley, record producer.
You've heard of me.

Have l?

I like your style.

A little Bowie, a little Bardot.
A look on your face that says:

"I could kick the shit
out of a truck driver."

Joanie.

This is Joan Jett.

And you are?

-Cherie.
-Cherie.

-Cherie what?
-Currie.

Cherie Currie.
Is that your real name?

Well, Cherie Currie, do you sing
or play a musical instrument?

Yeah. Yeah, l can sing.

I won a talent show
lip-synching to David Bowie.

-Why?
-"Why?"

Asked the maybe-great
Cherie Currie.

Read my lips.

We love your look.

We are choosing you
to be a part of rock 'n' roll history.

Do you wanna be in a band?

Are you kidding?

You know any Suzi Quatro?

-Yeah.
-Good.

Learn one of her songs,
don't care which.

Audition's Saturday.
Joan will tell you where.

How old are you?

Fifteen.

Jail-fucking-bait. Jack-fucking-pot.

So we practice in a trailer
in the Valley.

-lt'll probably happen there.
-Okay.

Come find me.

Crap.

-Oh, hold on.
-Tempo.

-Well, l don't know what--
-Cherie Currie. Cherie Currie.

-Welcome.
-Thanks.

You look great.

What song are you going to
sing for us today?

-"Fever."
-"Fever."

Peggy Lee song?

-Who's Peggy Lee?
-My mom likes Peggy Lee.

Kim, you should have told her.
We don't play that shit.

Suzi Quatro covered "Fever."

It's a slow song.
We don't play slow songs.

Well, can you do a different song?

Yeah-- lt's just the only one
that I learned for today.

Go.

Wait outside. Go.

Go.

Joan, come here. Bring your guitar.

We'll just have to do it for her,
I guess.

Cherie Currie.

-She's a wild child. She's a wild girl.
-Yeah.

She's a wild girl.

She's a....

She's a firecracker.

Give me something else.
Something else. Firecracker, rocket.

Rocket, bomb. Bomb.

Cherry bomb. Cherry bomb.

Cherry bomb.

Just-- Do it again. Do it.

She's a cherry bomb

-That's good.
-Yeah.

Cherry bomb. All right.

Hello, Daddy

Hello, Mom

I'm your cherry bomb

-That's nice.
-Right? Yeah.

Yeah.

Hey, "His Majestic Hysteric" whatever
is ready for you now.

All right? Yeah.

Hello, Daddy

Hello, Mom

I'm your cherry bomb

Hello, world

I'm your wild girl

I'm your cherry bomb

Okay, you do it. Let's go.

Hello, Daddy

Hello, Mom

I'm your cherry bomb

Hello, world

I'm your wild girl

I'm your cherry bomb

Hey, street boy
Want some style?

Your dead-end dreams
Don't make you smile

Hey, street boy
Want some style?

Your dead-end dreams
Don't make you smile

I'll give you something
To live for

Have you, grab you
Until you're sore

I can't say that.

What? Oh, okay. Goodbye.

Go sell Girl Scout Cookies.
Who's next?

Come on, just do it.

It's just a song.

I'll give you something
To live for

Have you, grab you
Till you're sore

No, dog shit.

Dog shit. Urine-soaked dog shit.
Okay, listen...

...rock 'n' roll is a blood sport.
It is a sport of men.

It is for the people in the dark.
The death cats.

The masturbators.

The outcasts who have no voice,
no way of saying:

"Hey, l hate the fucking world.

My father's a faggot.
Fuck you! Fuck authority!

I want an orgasm."

Now growl. Moan.

This isn't about women's lib, kiddies.
This is about women's libido.

I want to see the scratch marks
down their fucking backs.

All right, do it again. Again. Like....

Like your sister just fucked
your boyfriend in your parent's bed.

Like you want a fucking orgasm.

-Yeah.
-Yeah.

I'll give you something
To live for

Have you, grab you
Till you're sore

Hello, Daddy

Hello, Mom

I'm your cherry bomb

Hello, world

I'm your wild girl

I'm your cherry bomb

That's getting pretty good.

That's great. Yeah.

-What do you think, ladies?
-Yeah.

-Yeah.
-Yeah.

-l like it.
-Quite a presence.

Oh, now, don't get cocky.
We have a lot of work left to do.

Hey, foxy, come here!

-Check it out.
-What?

Donny Osmond.

Destroy that shit.

Come on.

Oh, shit.

I wanna go back.

My mom's gonna kill me.

Don't you guys
have any kind of curfew?

I don't.

My dad split. He was the strict one.

Yeah, mine too.

He didn't really leave,
he was kicked out and replaced.

Do you take the garbage out
now too?

Yeah, me and my sister.

Yeah, me too.

What is this?

It ain't baby shampoo.

I call it the dirty sink.

A little bit of everything
from my parent's liquor cabinet...

...but just a little so they can't tell
I'm dipping into their stash.

My dad would notice.
He likes his booze.

He an alcoholic?

No, he just likes it.
He says that's the difference.

He likes to drink,
he doesn't need to drink.

I like to drink.

A dirty sink is where we're gonna be
puking that up tomorrow.

Hey, salt and pepper.

Race you down the hill.

-Let's go.
-Come on.

Oh, my God.

What, you think because you're a big
rock star you can smoke in the house?

Shut up.
I never said l was a rock star.

Can those girls even play?

Yeah.
They actually wrote a song about me.

You know how many new bands
think they're gonna make it?

-Kim thinks we have a real shot.
-Kim Fowley?

That guy's a total creep.

Seriously. l heard he has a coat
made out of dog fur.

Excuse me
if l don't wanna wind up...

...working at the Pup 'n Fries
for the rest of my life.

It's Mom.

Crap!

-Come on.
-Places, everybody.

Places. Come quickly,
I have the most wonderful news.

What's all the commotion about?

Well, we're moving to lndonesia.

-What?
-What do you mean?

-What do you mean "we"?
-Well--

-You're leaving? You're leaving us?
-No, no. Nobody's leaving anybody.

We're a family.
We'll always be a family.

This is just something
that we have to do right now.

Why?

I'll be outside.

Wolfgang and l are getting married
and he lives in lndonesia.

You girls are welcome
to come along.

I've spoken to your father and he says
you're welcome to stay at Aunt Evie's.

Where are we gonna sleep
at Aunt Evie's?

He bought you a brand-new
sleeper sofa, top of the line.

It's really not that bad.

-Why can't we at least just stay here?
-Because you're 1 5 years old.

Just calm down.
This is a transition, not a tragedy.

-We're all gonna be fine.
-Stop saying "we."

There's no "we," there's a "you."
Hasn't been a "we"...

...since you kicked Dad out
for leaving water rings on the furniture.

Don't be so dramatic, Cherie.

Oh, coming from the actress.
"Places. Places, everyone."

No.

No. Pig stink, okay?
They're gonna eat you alive out there.

Rock 'n' roll music is tough music
played in tough venues.

Men don't wanna see women
anywhere...

...except in their kitchens
or on their knees...

...let alone on stage holding guitars,
okay?

Now, you better buckle up
and get ready for boot camp, babies...

...because you're gonna get trained
like the Viet-fucking-cong. Bring it in.

Okay, filthy pussies.
Today is hecklers drill.

These degenerates here
are not your fans.

They're not here to tell you
how pretty you look.

They don't want
yourfucking autograph.

They wanna hurt you.

They want you to retreat. You don't.

Now, move it, move it. l wanna see
you bitches do the death dance. Play!

Incoming!

Hey.

What are you gonna do about it,
huh?

-Yeah!
-Hey, watch it.

Oh, did that hurt?

Come on, Joanie.

Hey, man!

Hey! Rat piss.

Dog shit, razor blades.

Watch it.

Oh, man!

Man, l can barely hear you.
They're doing a gig right now.

Killing it. Listen.

You hear that?
That's the sound of hormones raging.

Cherie Currie.
Cherry bomb, sex kitten.

Brigitte Bardot in a trailer park.

Joan Jett, the rock 'n' roll heart,
street-tough brunette.

Sandy West, Miss California
with a joint in her mouth...

...and a chip on her shoulder.

Lita Ford, love child of Sophia Loren
and Ritchie Blackmore.

You do not wanna fuck with Lita.

Robin Robins, the brainy brainiac
who's rolling thunder on the bass.

It's incredible.
When do you need the press kits by?

Oh, no problem.

-l'll have it to you then.
-Hey.

Cops!

Oh, shit. The cops? Let's split.

-Hey.
-l gotta go.

Come on. Hey, Terri, wake up.
The cops are here.

-Shit, the cops. Let's go!
-Holy shit.

Come on. Fuck.

Hey. Fucking hecklers drill
really worked.

This girl threw a bottle at my face,
smashed it back at her.

You did the death dance in there. You
showed those punks how to cockfight.

Did you get the money
for the concert?

-No, you played for free.
-What?

Takes money
to make money in this business.

-Wanna play living rooms or stadiums?
-Stadiums.

I racked up their phone bill
booking your tour overseas.

-Overseas, really?
-Yeah. Easy.

You gotta pay your dues first here on
the road in a van, then come thejets.

-When?
-l don't go on the road.

I'll talk to your keepers. Scatter!

This.

-Can l take this?
-No.

It's my favorite.

When was the last time
you wore this?

Exactly.
I save it for special occasions.

It's not like you're playing
the Shrine Auditorium.

Forget it.

Bye, Grandma.

What's wrong?

Yourfather.
He didn't come home last night.

Oh, well...

...he's a big boy,
I'm sure he'll be okay.

I'll call when l get to a pay phone,
okay?

-l love you.
-Don't forget the little people.

You're taller.

-Hey.
-Hey.

-Scottie, I'm your roadie.
-Cherie.

Nice to meet you.

Thanks.

-Take care of my sister, okay?
-Yeah, you bet.

Dad?

-Dad!
-What's wrong?

Dad?

What happened?

Dad, are you okay?

Dad?

Is he dead?

He's passed out.

Let's go! We gotta hit the road!

Go. l got it.

Are you sure?

Thanks, Marie. l owe you.

Yeah. Call, okay?

Stop it.

Are we there yet?

How much longer?

What the fuck?

What, we're supposed to
share two beds?

I thought we were getting
another room?

Fucking Kim, man.

Hey, look, guys, ifyou need
an extra bed, I'm right down the hall.

I gotta make a call.

No. No!

No!

-Hey, Robin, come here.
-What?

It's great.
We each have our own room...

...and there's a pool with a waterfall
and a wet bar.

-l wish l was there.
-Yeah, me too.

-Next time for sure. l promise, okay?
-Okay.

Did everything go well after l left?

Grandma Oni keeps asking
if Dad's full of dope.

-He looks better.
-Okay.

Cherie, get in. What are you doing?

They're calling me,
so l'm gonna go practice.

-But l'll talk to you soon.
-Get offthe phone!

All right. Bye.

Open up, you filthy varmint.

This is compliments
ofyour non-alcoholic father.

How's he doing?

He's okay.

It's still not working.

Dicks aren't even hard.

-You rubbing?
-Yeah.

I think I'm doing it wrong.

Try using the showerhead.

Now, think about someone
you have a crush on.

It's still not working.

How about Farrah Fawcett?
You like her?

Yeah, who doesn't?

Wait, l think I feel something.

Oh, shit.

Check. Check. One.

What the fuck? Plug me back in.

Watch your mouth, kid, or we'll have
to turn you over to Child Services.

Fuck you, old man.

Hey, what's your fucking problem,
man?

What's your fucking problem, man?

Hey, hey, l wouldn't.

-lt's a lose-lose situation.
-How's that?

Well, ifyou win, you beat up a girl.
Ifyou lose, you get beat up by two.

Teenage ones.

All right, sound check is canceled.

Maybe ifyou ever headline
you'll get one.

Now, why don't you
go to your rooms...

...and do your fucking homework
or something?

Like we need a sound check.

Pretty soon you'll be
opening up for us.

Opening your legs, maybe.

-Dude, it really hurts. lt really hurts.
-Come on.

Oh, shit.

You guys, come on, open up.
I gotta take a piss. Please?

I really gotta piss, man. Come on.

It's too perfect.

Hey, these jerk-offs
have betterfood than we did.

Yeah.

You gotta pee, right?

Here.

Pee in this shit.

What are you doing, man?

-You can't pee on their guitar.
-l don't give a fuck.

No, I do, actually.
It'll probably add to their sound.

Oh, shit. There's someone in here.

-Where's your belt?
-Shit.

Come on, man. Just come on.

Thank you.

Whoa, you fucking filthy dog.

Hey, we're on in 10.

Hey, up or down?

Down, girl.

Next up on stage...

...from Los Angeles, California,
the Runaways.

Kim, we are fucking rocking it.
I mean, the crowd's been really great.

-I hear you're tearing things up.
-We're running out of money though.

We're fucking hungry.
Can you send us more?

It's a bad time. I'm with
an A & R scout, it could be big.

You just keep those dogs in line,
okay?

Things are happening, trust me.

Okay.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, you got it.

-just send us some more money--
-l can't come, Joan.

I get vertigo when I travel
and my gimpy leg acts up.

Maybe I can get a road manager.

Kim.

Yeah.

Put that back.

Are you fucking kidding me?

-Off!
-l like that song.

All right.
Now I'm gonna introduce Joan Jett...

...with "l Love Playing With Fire!"

Hey, kid. Wake up.

I've got some bad news.

Fucking Kim, man.

-He snaked us.
-What?

All his bullshit
about paying your dues...

...that's how you're gonna get
a record deal, blah-fucking-blah...

...he was right.

We fucking did it.

-What?
-That Frankenstein...

...crazy-looking motherfucker did it.

Mercury fucking Records.
Mercury fucking Records.

-We got signed?
-Yup.

We're going to Hollywood in an hour.
I'm gonna tell the rest ofthe girls.

Get your little ass ready.

I can't believe it. We got signed.

Hello? Hey. Got a bag?

We got signed!

Yeah.

Yeah, and you know,
I was gonna form a band of dwarves...

...but their hands were too small,
they couldn't hold their instruments.

These ladies
can hold their instruments.

And their liquor.

See, girls nowadays,
they don't have any role models.

This band's about self-empowerment.
Aphrodite, Cleopatra, Eurydice.

No more second-class status...

...sitting at boring concerts
with their asshole boyfriends.

The Runaways have the most chance
of any group l've seen...

...to do what The Beatles did...

...to tearthis world apart.

It means "thank you very much"
in Japanese.

I could do everyone's hair and makeup
on tour. What do you think?

Everyone does their own hair
and makeup, you know?

Yeah. Okay, well, l had another idea
about making bags for everybody.

Like silver clutches
with their names on them.

I'm not going, am I?

-l'm not going to Japan.
-l didn't say that.

I'm your sister, Cherie, you don't
have to say it. l can hear you.

It'sjust that no one really brings
their family, you know?

We don't have the cash,
and we don't need the distraction.

I wouldn't be a distraction,
I'd be a help.

-l know.
-You promised.

So, what then?
Am l supposed to stay here again?

Making tacos? Playing nurse?
Taking out the garbage?

I gotta go.

Not until you get this song down.

Now take it again from the chorus.
One, two, three.

Oh, you hideous souls...

...may we not grow old and horrid.

And dreadful.

What are you laughing at?

You think you can sing like that in
front of people? In front of a customer?

You bitches have got to start thinking
like men, okay?

No more snip snails
and puppy dog tails. Men wanna fuck.

Men want this, filthy pugs.

And we're gonna give it to them.
We're gonna put it right in theirface...

...and then take it back,
just to break their fucking hearts.

Oh, what, Cherie?

I'm sorry.

-Tell me, seriously, are you tired?
-Yeah.

Yeah?

-Are you bored?
-Yeah, actually I am.

Oh, yeah? Well, guess what,
you're not allowed to be tired.

You're not permitted to be bored.
You're an employee.

You are my property
and you will do as l say...

...or you can go fold tacos
with your better-looking sister.

Kim, we're a band.

I mean, we don't work for you.

Yeah. Okay, I'm losing my voice,
I'm taking a break.

Oh, little diva.
Well, l got a news flash.

This ain't the opera. They're not
coming to hear your chops, okay?

They're not coming to see little girls
banging on their little drums.

This is the music business, okay?
You wanna be an artist?

Saw offyour fucking ear
and send to your boyfriend.

You wanna be a rock star,
you listen to me.

Okay? Now...

...Cherie's lack of greatness...

...her lack of rock 'n' roll authority
is getting in the way of our product.

What is our product?

Lita, what's our product, huh?

Sex, violence, revolt.

Okay, now, l'm going to teach you
prima donnas...

...how to think with your cocks,
okay?

Get up here.

-Hello?
-Cherie, it's Kim.

I just wanted to call and let you know
I think you're doing a really good job.

And ifyou keep listening to me,
you're gonna be a big star.

-I'm trying my best, Kim.
-l know you are.

Listen, there's a photographer
coming by your house in 20 minutes...

...to take some pictures
for a Japanese magazine.

Twenty minutes?
Is everybody meeting here?

Solo shots. lt'sjust gonna be
you for now. He'll do the rest later.

-So be ready.
-Okay.

Bye, Cherie.

Shit.

Good. Good.

Hey, my arms are connected to me,
you know.

Good.

Good, good.

No, they're from the magazine.
They're here to take pictures of me.

Get back in the house.

Good morning.
This is your captain speaking.

-Hey, wake up. We're almost there.
-Welcome to Japan.

And ifyou're holding any drugs,
get rid ofthem now.

What?

Wait, wait, wait.

Please take your seats now.
We are preparing for landing.

Two, three.

I can't do any more.

Oh, shit.

-l think that means we're landing.
-What?

-We're not.
-No.

Cherie, Cherie, Cherie.

This way.

Cherie, Cherie, Cherie.

-Yeah.
-Oh, my God.

Did you see that?

-Japan's not so bad.
-No, man, really, it's great.

I mean, it's bigger than you said.
It's like-- lt's mania.

I didn't train you
to be a bunch offailure cocks, did I?

Of course it's going
according to plan.

-Yeah.
-Are you becoming one with Japan?

I guess so. I mean,
I learned how to use chopsticks.

That's my girl. l need you to keep it
togetherfor me overthere, Joanie.

I know, I am.

I am.

Okay.

What the hell are you wearing?

I'm thinking with my cock.

More like boner.

I think I'm gonna wear it.

Where? Strip club?

You're gonna get us
in a lot oftrouble.

I mean, like, arrested.

Sexy, no?

You're ready for the peep-show circuit.
All you need's a porn name.

Ladies.

A toast to the Runaways.

First televised show to over
one million Japanese homes.

-Yeah.
-Yeah, man.

-Cheers.
-Cheers.

All right.

Oh, actually, do you have any beer?

Excuse me?
Do you like Japanese food?

Yes, very much.

What is your favorite?

-That one.
-That one?

-Yeah.
-Oh, wasabi.

Yeah.

-Hey, you got the cover.
-What?

-Bigger than Godzilla, huh?
-What?

-Let me see that. Let me see that.
-We got the cover issue.

What? Amazing.

-Yeah, man.
-Cheers.

-Where'd you get this?
-Took forever.

-Yeah.
-Cheers.

We're gonna need another.

-Yeah?
-Hello?

Cherie, can you hear me?

-What?
-lt's me, Marie.

-Dad's sick.
-Who?

Dad. He's sick.
You gotta come home, okay?

-What?
-Turn down the music. lt's me, Marie.

Did you hear what l said?
You have to come home.

I don't have a home.

-Do you have a home?
-What?

What are you talking about?

Cherie, can you hear me?

Cherie?

Wow, it's so crazy.

-Let's eat. You guys hungry?
-Oh, my God.

-Sandy, look at that.
-What? Shit.

Crazy, man.

-What is this?
-What's your problem?

-What's yourfucking problem?
-That is cool.

It's not cool.
Did you know about this?

Kim sent them. Just showed up at my
house. What was l supposed to say?

Well, you could say, "No."

You could say,
"I'm the singer in a band."

Not Linda fucking Lovelace.

Look at this.

When did you do this?

It's exactly what Kim wants.
He's gonna be really happy.

But this is all they're ever
gonna say about us.

You think anybody's
gonna take us seriously?

Son of a bitch. lt'sjust publicity.
It helps everybody.

What were you thinking?
Publicize the music...

...not your crotch.

Don't worry about them.

You're the voice.

It's your face on the T-shirts.

You're the one they want.

How you feeling?

Like a peach.

Like a really bruised peach.

There's an all-girl rock band
in Korea now.

Yeah?

Yeah. The singer thinks she's you.

They're shit.

It's pretty cool, though.

Yeah.

Well, if it isn't Mary, mother of God.

What, no disciples?

No cameras?

Just me.

Nice bag.

So original. All the girls get one?

No.

Actually...

...there's one for me
and one for you.

Thanks.

So do l actually need to say
all the things l wanna say...

...or do we still have
the sister thing?

How's Dad?

Well, he hasn't asked about you today,
so that's a good thing.

He was worried?

What do you think?

He's been keeping a folder
of all your press clips.

Take it to him.

-l'm scared.
-He's been waiting for you.

Hi, kitten.

Hi, Dad.

We have money.

You're gonna be fine.

We're ready for you, Cherie.

Cherie?

I've had it with her shit, man.

What--? What's wrong?

It must be
a really interesting article.

What are you reading?

"Fowley says
handling Cherie's ego...

...is like having a dog
urinate in yourface.

The best thing that could happen
would be if Cherie hung herself...

...from a shower rod and put herself
in the tradition of Marilyn Monroe."

Shit, man.

That's great. That's fucking right.

-Lita.
-What? lt's true.

She's always the center
of every photo.

Always the biggest interview
in all the articles.

It's like we're the backup
for the Cherie Currie Band.

I didn't ask for that shit.

Who cares?

It'sjust a magazine article.
It doesn't mean shit.

Let's finish the song. Come on.

What's the matter?

No flash bulbs?

No one here to fall all over you
while you sing?

Stop. Cherie, bring the bottle.
Come on.

-Cherie?
-Hey, Cherie, listen.

I gotta take a piss. Would that be okay
with you? lf not, I could hold it.

You can piss yourfucking pants
for all I care.

-l'm gonna piss down your throat!
-Calm down!

-Calm down.
-Come on!

Why are you always defending her,
Joan?

Bravo, kiddies. Bravo.

What the fuck is this?

It's pretty nasty, Kim.

This?

This is what we call controversy.

This is what we call publicity.

It's what we call a juicy story!

Oh, and you're welcome.
By the way, thanks to me...

...this article is twice as long
and half of it is about you. Okay?

It's press, my budding young starlet,
not prestige.

Get used to it.

Get in that booth
and finish the song.

We've got this place on lockout. l'm
paying out the fucking nose. Let's go.

Let's go. Sing.

Sing.

Sing!

-No.
-No?

No.

-Cherie, we have to finish.
-Yeah, get in the booth, Cherie.

Shut the fuck up, Lita!

-You shut up.
-Shut the fuck up!

Come on. Cherie, come on.

-l'm not singing.
-Oh, Cherie.

Of course you're singing,
you're a singer.

That's what you do. You sing and you
strut around in your underwear, okay?

But most importantly,
you do what I tell you to do.

And right now l'm telling you
to get in the booth, so get in the booth.

No.

You get in that booth, Cherie.

No.

Get in the booth
before l lose my patience...

...and send you back
where l rescued you from.

Good. Send me back.

-l don't give a shit. l wanna go back.
-Careful.

-Get in the booth.
-No.

-Get in the booth!
-No!

I'm not gonna be
your little lap dog anymore.

You've been speaking for me
this whole time.

You get in the fucking booth.

I'm done.

You dog cunts will be lucky to get
a gig singing in the fucking shower.

You know what?

Good fucking job! No, really!
Really! Good fucking job!

Anarchy! Mayhem!

Rock 'n' roll, baby!

Come on, Joanie.

Fuck you! Fuck you!

Fuck you!

Rock 'n' roll.

Fuck me.

I think I just need a break...

...from the band, or something.

Ifyou haven't noticed,
we're in the middle of cutting a record.

I just gotta spend time
with my family.

Yourfamily?

Who?

No, really, your mom in lndonesia
or your drunk dad?

Are we not
yourfucked-up family now?

I can't do this anymore.

I need my life back, you know?

This is my life.

The Runaways.

The Runaways, they were a...

...conceptual rock project that failed.

Kim, do you have any regret
that the girls turned on you?

No.

I'm glad they turned on me.

It shows spirit.

If l'm training a wild dog...

...and it bites me in the hand...

...then l know I've trained it well.

My hand is made of iron.

That's all it took.

She's 16 years old
and she's already a creep.

Am l worried about them?
No, they'll be fine.

I mean, a yearfrom now, they'll all
be living in a trailer park in the Valley.

Fat, pregnant,
and happy as fleas on a dog.

But me...

...poor me...

...l'm on my way to becoming...

...rock 'n' roll legend.

Put your finger there.

Yeah, something like that.

Cool.

I wish I could play.
I'd be in a band with you.

Yeah, but you can't.

I heard Cherie's doing a movie.

Yeah?

You don't need her.

You should go solo, like Bowie.

Bowie'sjust Bowie.
He doesn't need any band.

It was my band.

I wrote the songs,
she just sang them.

Yeah, well,
people always remember the singer.

Get up.

Hey, come on. Get up.

Everyone out. Hey.

Come on, get up.

Everyone, get the fuck out!
Come on!

-Hey! Come on!
-What?

Fuck off.

All right, all right.

Yeah, fucking nice.

Stay. Stay right here.

Just keep playing.

I'll see you later.

I can't sell this to you.

I have my ID.

Calling manager to Counter 7.

Yes, what can l do?

I'm sorry,
but we won't be able to sell you that.

I'll have you fired...

...replaced...

...just like that.

I'm gonna have to ask you
to leave, please.

Right now.

You're nothing but dog shit, mister.

And you...

...you'rejust a filthy pussy.

Pup 'n Fries.

Hola, Pup 'n Fries. Can l help you?

Marie Currie, please.

Cherie?

What are you doing?

I need you to come and pick me up.

l can't, I'm at work.

I have to go.

Places, everyone!

Places! Places!

Places.

Hey, you.

You must obey...

...or you will bleed.
You know I need to get my way.

So now you listen up.

You are my pup.
I beat you up in every way.

And when I speak to you,
you answer true.

I'll make you black and blue.

We are not to blame
for seeing love is pain.

We're not ashamed...

...to say love is pain.

To say that love is pain.

And l'll do it again!

People have been asking about you
at Rodney's.

Sorry for calling you at work.

It's okay.

How's it going over there?

Oh, it's a dream.

Especially when people come in
thinking l'm you.

I actually signed an autograph
the other day.

This guy came in
and asked for one for his daughter...

...but l totally knew it was for him.

Mom called.

She said they're playing "Cherry
Bomb" on the radio in Indonesia.

She tells everyone
you're her daughter.

I'm sure she tells them
she's my mother.

It's been a year.
You should at least talk to her.

Yeah.

Okay, that was Joan Jett
and the Blackhearts...

...with "I Love Rock 'N Roll."

Now, Joan has surprised us...

...by dropping by the station today.

Hi, Joan.

How are you, Rodney?
It's good to see you.

I was a big fan
in the English disco days.

Oh, l remember
when you would come into the club...

...and you were only
about 15 years old.

Yeah.

We used to play a lot
ofthe Runaways' music then.

The Runaways was my baby.

We were so young back then too.

Growing up on the road together.

-Hello, chop chop.
-When did you know...

...that you wanted to be
a rock 'n' roll musician?

I think I always knew. I mean...

...if it wasn't for rock 'n' roll,
I'd probably be dead or in jail.

It really saved my life.

-You grow up real fast on the road.
-You do. Real fast.

Okay, well,
we're gonna take some calls now...

...because we have
a lot offans waiting.

Caller, you're on.

Hi, Joan. It's Cherie.

Cherie?

How you doing?

I'm not dead or in jail.

This is Cherie Currie,
former lead singer ofthe Runaways.

How exciting.

So, Cherie,
what have you been up to?

I'm kind oftrying to do
the acting thing.

Now, from what I understand,
it's been a while since you two spoke.

You guys must have
lots to talk about.

Or maybe not on the air.

I just wanted to say hi.

Yeah.

Call yourfriends on your own time.

Well, l gotta go, Joanie.

Yeah, me too. l gotta run, Cherie.

Okay.

Let's get back to the music.

This is another hit song from
the album, "Crimson and Clover."

You're listening
to Rodney on the Rocks.