Thursday (1998) - full transcript

Would you get the fuckin’ coffee
and let’s go.

This ain’t exactly Brazil.

I coulda pissed ya
a fuckin’ cup by now.

Hey! You’re out
of chocolate mac.

Sorry.
No chocolate macadamia.

You would please
have something else?

Fuckin' hazelnut...

That will be $1.08.

That sign says
"All Coffee 69 Cents."

I am very sorry,
but that is a 44-ounce cup,

and the largest
coffee cup is 20 ounces.



Therefore, I must charge you…

99 cents, plus tax...

The price of
a large fountain drink.

That’s bullshit. That sign says
"Coffee All Sizes,"

not "All Sizes
Up to 20 Ounces."

I am humbly sorry, but you
must pay 99 cents plus tax…

for that cup.

Just pay
the bitch the $1.08…

and let’s get the
fuck out of here.

All right.

This is bullshit. Just give me
my fuckin Snackie Cake.

I am sorry.
I cannot do that.

That is only available…

with the 20-ounce coffee.



That is not a 20-ounce coffee.

This bitch is gettin’
on my nerves, man. Forget it.

- Just give him the fuckin’ danish.
- That sign says…

"Free Snackie Cake."

I paid $1.08 for my coffee.
I want my free Snackie Cake.

I cannot do that.

Here. Take it.

That’s apple cinnamon.
I wanted cream cheese.

Fuck’s sake. Pay her
the money and let’s go.

Either of you got
something smaller than a Ben?

I’m sorry.

I cannot accept
any monies over a $20 bill.

- That’s it.
- I should not sell it to you, anyway…

As that cup is very hot
and might burn you.

You are very strange.

I’m going to call the police.

Fuck this.

Fuck me.

Give me a smock.

How you doin’ tonight?

Fine.

How about yourself?

I’m doin’ okay.

Need a cup of coffee, though.

Hmm… raspberry blend.

It’s on the house.

You sure?

Hey, man, here you are…

out chasing bad guys
at 4:00 in the morning…

while I’m sitting here
like a duck...

It’s the least I can do.

I appreciate it.

Smell something funny?

Yeah,
one of our coolers went down.

Spoiled a lot of shit.

Sorry.

Hey, man, if you can stand it…

it don’t bother me none.

You got to work in it.

Mind if I, uh…

ask you a question?

Go ahead, officer.

Tell me. who do you like better.
Picard or Kirk?

Oh, there’s no question about it.

Kirk.

You bet.

You got to respect a man
who can fuck a green bitch…

and destroy a whole civilization
all in 60 minutes.

Good night.

Thought we had a problem.

I almost forgot...
My free Snackie Cake.

- Hello?
- This is the operator.

I have a collect call from Nick.

- Who?
- From a "Nick." Will you accept charges?

Yeah, I’ll take it.

Go ahead, sir.

Nick?

Case?

Look, uh, I’m coming through
Houston tomorrow morning.

I was wondering
if I might come see you.

Oh, I don’t know, bro. Why?

Things have changed.

I’m getting married.

I was hoping I could stay
a couple days, you know?

Catch up?

Jesus.
Aww!

What do you want me to say?
"Sorry, bro, my wife’s…

"going to be a little tired
when she gets home tonight.

"Here’s 20 bucks.

There’s a La Quinta
up the highway."

I thought maybe you’d
want him to meet me.

If he’s such a good friend,

why haven’t I heard
about him before, hmm?

I told you.

I was kind of in
the wrong path when I was in L.A.

I chose to get
my shit together. He didn’t.

What time is it?
Oh, shit!

I’m going to miss my plane.
I got to go. Bye.

- What about breakfast?
- No. sorry. No time.

Okay...

Chris, don’t plan anything
tomorrow night. It’s opening night.

I planned dinner
with Allen tomorrow night.

Why didn’t you remind me?

Chris, I’ve been working
on this club for eight months.

He’s the C.E.O.
I have to be there.

Every critic in town will be there.
We can’t miss it.

We’ll work something out. Just don’t
forget your appointment with Dr. Jarvis.

Casey, you know
this adoption is...

Yeah, I know.

It’ll be fine.

You want me to take you?

No. I’ll drive.

I’m taking the Mustang.

I love you.

I love you, too. Bye.

7.35 the comfort of strangers

Turn around and put
your hands on the wall.

What?

Turn around… and put
your hands on that wall.

You’re kidding, right?

You’re not going to try
and fuck me are you?

You wish.

This isn’t exactly how
I envisioned our reunion going.

Oh, God… damn!

You had me going.

Goddamn, good to see you.

Come on.

Finally, I ended up in Texas.

That was about a year ago.

I had a little money,
got into mineral leases,

And I’ve been, uh…

working between
here and L.A. ever since.

Looks like we both escaped.

No shit.

Look at you.

You look like that wolf
that got taken in as a pet...

All dumb and domesticated.

You want a beer?

When’s the last time you had
a beer at 8:00 in the morning?

About three and a half years ago.

Well, let me get them.

No, I’ll get them.

Sit down, I’m closer.

That woman’s got you
trained, doesn’t she?

They’re not in there.

They’re in the fridge in the garage.

I’ll get them.

Two fridges.

Welcome to suburbia.

What the fuck?

What?

What the hell is this?

It’s Soy Moo.

Yeah, I can see that.

What’s it for?

That’s a milk substitute.

We’re very health conscious.

There’s no meat…

no dairy… nothing.

You’re kidding.

Nope.

Three happy years…

of veggie burgers and acidophilus.

Those are scrambled eggs.

Scrambled Tofutti.

Fuck, dude, Rod Serling’s…

going to step out
of that fridge any second.

Nick?

What?

Does that look like
a trash can to you?

Oh. sorry, bro.

Under the sink, man.

So you’re an architect, huh?

Yep.

- You’re good.
- Nah.

No, seriously,
you’re really fucking good.

Thanks.

She know?

Not… even… a clue.

Never.

I fly out tonight for "Paree."

Yeah, that’s right.

You’re fixing to tie
that knot yourself.

Who’s the lucky girl?

Aw, just some French chick.

Man, you sound head over heels.

Nervous, I guess.

Nothing wrong
with living in France.

No extradition.

What?

I’m just kidding.

Say. I’ve got some errands to run.

You mind if I borrow your car?

Help yourself.

Hell, I got a floor plan
that was due last Monday.

I’m not going anywhere.

Let’s throw your bags
into the guest, uh… bedroom here.

Fuck, bro.

It’s really good seeing you.

Ooh!

Beamer. Nice.

- insurance is in the glove box.
- Got it.

And the, uh,
spare is in the… trunk.

No problem.

Thanks.

Don’t mention it.

It’s a fucking station wagon!

8:40 paradise found

- Hey, what can I get you?
- Just coffee.

Hi.

Have a seat.

Thanks.

What can I do for you?

You, uh, look pretty tired.

Well, it’s 1:00 in the morning.
I can’t imagine why.

Well, you’re kind of a dick,
aren’t you?

I’m sorry.

I guess I just haven’t
acclimatized yet.

I was in L.A.

Los Angeles? Oh.

Took some time off.

You know, for six weeks
you come in here…

every night...
Alone, I might add...

And you sit here,
and you study for hours.

And every night I wait on you,
and you don’t even notice me.

How come?

It’s not that I...
I mean, I noticed.

I mean, you... You’re...

- Fuck, I’m just trying to get
through this. - So, here it is,

Friday night, and here you sit.

And I’m thinking either, one:

You know, you’re just a total geek.

Or, two: You don’t have any friends.

And you don’t
look like a geek, so, uh…

I was wondering
if you’d like to go…

uh, get some breakfast?

You don’t even know me.

Oh. uh… I’m Christine.

- You are?
- Casey.

Casey. Casey. Okay, good.

Wait.

What?

Tell me, why is it
so fucking difficult?

What?

This relationship.

Why is it so… difficult?

I’m busting my ass here…

to be the perfect husband for you,

and the harder I work,
the less you care.

I love you, and…

you care more about
your career than you care about me.

Casey, I do love you…

but you are boring
the shit out of me.

You are working so fucking hard
to be what you think I want…

instead of giving me what I need.

Quit trying so hard.
Why don't you just be yourself?

I don’t want
Fred MacMurray, Casey.

I want you.

You, the cocky,
determined guy, full of life.

- Full of...
- You wouldn’t like who I am.

I married you!

I love you.

I don’t want
to lose you, Christine.

Christine!

There is nothing in that case
but a pack of legal documents.

Maybe a box of condoms.

That’s it.

Yeah?

I just want to know one thing.

What kind
of fucking drugs are you on?

What?

I want to know what kind
of fucking drugs you were on…

to make you think you could
bring fucking smack into my house!

- That briefcase was locked, Case.
- Yeah? Sue me!

That wasn’t very trusting
of you to go through my shit.

This ain’t exactly me borrowing
your trading cards here, Beave.

You brought shit into my house!
Into my home!

Which I invited you
into as my fucking guest!

You know what they did
in ancient Rome…

when a visitor violated
somebody’s hospitality?

They cut off his dick and they
nailed it to the fucking gate!

See, this is why
I didn’t want to tell you.

I knew that you would have very
little enthusiasm for this deal.

I had a little business
to finish up in Houston,

and I wanted to tell you
adios face to face.

I want you to pedal your ass
back here, pick up your shit…

get the fuck out of my house.

No can do, buddy.

I appreciate your situation,
but I told you…

I got a little unfinished
business to take care of.

- So what?
- A little unfinished business.

If you’re not
back here in 15 minutes,

you’re going to have to pick up your
shit from the police evidence room.

And tell ’em what?

Your ex-partner
just happened to stop by…

with a basketful of goodies…

and you felt it was your moral
obligation to turn him in?

- I don’t think so.
- Look, you lame piece of shit.

I am having
a little bit of trouble…

coming up with reasons not to blow
the back of your fucking head off!

You’re not sounding like that happy
little suburbanite I saw this morning.

Don’t forget.

Never can tell who’s listening in.

Just watch my shit, Case.
I’ll be back in a couple of hours,

I’ll pick up
my bags and I’ll split.

"Watch your shit"?

You’re not
hearing me, Nick. Get...

Sorry, case. Time’s up.
Gotta go.

Nick.

Nick!

Nick!

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

11:55 ding-dong

Say, man,
you got the wrong house.

I didn’t order any pizza.

What?

I said you got the wrong house!
I didn’t order the pizza!

This ain’t your pizza, no?

No.

What kind is it?

Meat lover’s.

I’ll tell you what—
How much is it?

I’ll buy if off you.

No, man. No can do, no?
You ain’t ordered the pizza,

I can’t sell it to you.

What are you going
to do with it, take it back?

I’m offering to buy it from you.

Tell you what…

I’ll sell you this one if you
let me use your phone, yeah?

Deal.
Come on in.

You know what happens
if I pull this trigger?

- Do you?
- You repaint my ceiling.

Yeah, man.

You know why I’m here, yeah?

Collecting for D.A.R.E.?

Okay, you give me the shit,
and it’s over real quick like.

Yeah.

Yeah. Well, I hope you can swim.

- I put it down the disposal.
- You put it in the drain?

Every milligram.

Okay.

Why you forcing me
to pain you now?

Look, motherfucker,
I don’t have a clue…

what’s going on here,
and I really don’t care.

Check it out, professor.

Why would you do such a thing?

I’m not a drug dealer.
I don’t want that crap in my house.

This too much for me.

Yes, sir.

No, I’m here, man.

No, he don’t have it.

Him put it in the sink, yo.

I checked.
No. man. he straight-up done it.

Him say he don’t want it
in his house no more, yeah?

"No, I’m not a drug dealer."

You sure, yeah? But...

Yeah, man.
Yeah, man.

Got it.

Sorry, man.
But you got to go.

Him doubly pissed
now that you trashed it, yeah.

I have a little favor to ask.

Favor?

I think I could use a little ganj.

Yeah, man.

Die.

Hydroponic, man.

Yeah.

Oh, yeah.

Feel that.

You fond of music, man?

What?

You think I do this
’cause I like killing people, huh?

No-no.

Ga-ga music is my life, yeah.

I have aspirations, yeah.

That’s what I do on the radio.

I’m this close to a record deal.

Then…

No more of the killing.

12:32 later that day...

It’s time, man.
Dog day, yeah?

I’m just helping you on
to the next life, you know.

Yeah, man?

Marcia…

Can I call you back, yo?

I’m kinda into something.

Who?

In the office right now?

You want me to come down?

Over the phone.

No, man, the acoustics
would be lousy.

Yeah, yeah.
You’re the boss, yeah.

Hey, grab the blue tape
now, and put it the box.

- Come on!
- You gotta be kidding me.

No. no. no.
Turn it way up. way up.

Can you hear it?
Yeah, man.

♪ Follow me ♪

- ♪ Follow me ♪ - ♪ Every day
mortality stares me in the face-ah ♪

♪ Writing in reality’s
keepin’ me awake now ♪

♪ Puttin’ on
the new me to work it ♪

♪ It’s like letting go of things
no choice but to forget ♪

♪ Pack up my nine and
I strap it to my waist, now ♪

♪ Smoke on the reefer
to keep my head straight ♪

♪ Talk to Jah for the lyrics
now they’re coming from the crowd ♪

♪ A doper M.C.
I know will never be found ♪

- ♪ Follow me ♪ - ♪ Don’t know what
I’m watchin’ Don’t know what I see ♪

♪ See, I know that I’m from
got to follow me ♪

Sign him quick.
His value’s about to go up.

I just love duct tape, don’t you?

You’re probably one of them morons
who call it "duck" tape.

Here’s the situation, ganja boy:

You had no way of knowing…

That I was merely an innocent
bystander to all of this.

And you did share your stash.

I can appreciate this.

Not to mention the fact…

that I really
don’t want to kill you.

I don't even know what I'd
do with you once you were dead.

But I can’t just let you go.

So,

I have a dilemma.

What time is it?

Fuck.

Just a minute.

Hello.

Mr. Wells.

Dr. Jarvis, so good
to see you again.

Nice to see you, too.

Won’t you come in?

Sorry about that.

I-I couldn’t find
the key to the door.

- I didn’t hear it unlock.
- Oh, that’s right.

I didn’t find it.
Um, right this way.

So, Mr. Wells, you and your wife…

would like to adopt the baby.

- Yes, sir. that’s right.
- Okay.

Now, you understand the next step
in the adoption proceedings?

Um, yes. We are to be
individually evaluated.

Yes. that’s right.
That’s why I’m here.

Uh, your wife, of course,

has already completed
her evaluation.

She’s an extraordinary woman.

Absolutely extraordinary woman.

- Um, shall we begin?
- Sure. Yeah. One thing...

Weren't we already evaluated
at the previous screening?

No. that was just
the initial consultation.

This is the individual
competency test.

Do you have a problem
with that, Mr. Wells?

No… not really.

Good. Then we can get started.

And what are your
qualifications, Dr. Jarvis?

Are you an M.D., uh...

Are you nervous, Mr. Wells?

No.

Why?

Because what you’re doing
is this thing…

called conversational
transference.

Simply means
that you’re trying to evade…

answering my question
by answering me with questions.

It’s something that ’s
usually indulged in…

by individuals
who are trying to hide something.

You trying to hide
something from me, Mr. Wells?

- No.
- Good.

- Do you currently use drugs?
- No.

Not even Tylenol?

Some… sure.

- Any history of drug use?
- Uh…

A little, I guess.

About as much as anyone
who goes to college.

"Justification of drug use."

How about alcohol?

An occasional beer.

You ever been incarcerated
or institutionalized?

- No.
- Any history of mental illness?

- No. - You know, there’s
something about your application…

that’s very troubling to me.

There’s a gap of two,
two and a half years.

I mean...

- It occurs, like, five years ago.
- Yeah.

Can I get you,
uh, some iced tea?

- No. No, thank you.
- I’m a little dry.

- Do you mind?
- Oh, no. please, go. Go right ahead.

I asked because
your wife was very vague…

about what you might
have been doing…

and I was hoping
you might be able…

to shed a little bit
of light on it for me.

Uh, I was in L.A.

Yes. that’s just
what your wife said.

Could you be a little bit
more specific, though?

Oh, well…
I-I was doing some odd jobs…

and this and that, you know?

No, I don’t know.

Could you elaborate?

Well, I did work
as a mechanic for a while.

Oh, you mean like
for a body shop?

No. I mean like
in a performance shop.

- Perf...
- Well, exotics and, uh, rally cars.

Oh. Uh-huh.

You know, I’ve changed my mind.

I think I would
like some iced tea.

I’m sorry.
We’re all out of iced tea.

How about a beer?
Yeah...

- You don’t have anything else?
- No.

No. I don’t.

This is... This is just about
all that... all that I have.

Chris has been a little busy.

I’m-I’m sorry, Dr. Jarvis.

What-What were you saying?

Oh, I was just asking if you remember
the name of that performance shop.

Uh, Bubba’s.

"Bubba’s"?

Bubba’s… Big… Block… Shop.

Do you have
a number for Bubba’s?

No. No, they’re,
uh, out of business.

Could you excuse me…

for just a second?

My cat… must have got in...

Got into the garage…

and I’ll be… be right back.

See these?

Got any idea what
I can do with these?

- Mm-hmm.
- Somehow, I just don’t believe you.

Besides, that’d just
make a lot of noise.

Sorry about that, Dr. Jarvis.

- So, where were we?
- I was asking you about L.A.

Oh, yeah.

Wow, I apologize.

This never happens.

Can I help you?

"May I."

All right… may I help you?

- So, you’re Casey?
- That’s right.

I’m a friend of Nick’s.

I’ll bet you are.

May I come in?

- Nick’s not here right now.
- I’ll wait.

- I’m a little busy.
- Well, I’ll be real quiet.

Look, lady, I just told you.
I’m a little busy!

It’s quite all right. I would
enjoy speaking with your friend.

She's not my friend.
I don’t know who the fuck she is.

Uh, hi.
I am Dallas.

No. don’t bother introducing
yourself ’cause she’s not staying.

What is that?

That is my phone.

Aren’t you going to answer it?

Yeah. I’m going to answer it.

Where’s your cordless?

You doing a survey?

I had one.
I broke it.

- In anger?
- Yeah.

I mean, no.

Can you give me, uh,
just a second?

Don’t sit down.

- Hello. Nick.
- Case.

You get the fuck
back here right now.

No. I got myself
in a little trouble, Case.

You, my friend, are in a lot more
trouble than you fuckin’ know.

- Yalie, huh? I’m a Vassar gal myself.
- Oh, really?

- What was your major?
- Poly-scl and philosophy. You mind?

Casey’s got to be
real fucked up…

if you’re making a house call.

I’m beginning to think so, yes.

Some Jamaican showed up here,
and he tried to kill me.

And now one of your bimbos
is sitting in my living room!

- Bimbo?
- Some bitch named Dallas.

Tell me, you’re not
one of those, uh…

Freudian sub-intellectuals
who waste all their time…

fixating on penis envy?

Well, sex is a prime motivator.

I mean, indirectly,
I believe sex…

is behind most of our major
thought processes.

- You think so?
- Absolutely.

- Do you like pornos?
- Excuse me?

You know, pornos.
Fuck films.

Surely you’ve heard stories.

Yes. I’ve heard stories,

but I’ve never— never really
given them that much thought.

I love them,
especially fag flicks.

Their big cocks sliding in
and out of each other.

Fuck, that gets me so wet they have to
steam clean the seat after I leave.

In fact,

I’m getting wet
just talking about it.

- What aren’t you telling me, Nick?
- Nothing, Case.

- Just don’t give her my shit.
- Don’t worry. I don’t have it.

- You give it to the Jamaican?
- No.

- I flushed it down the sink.
- What?

I went on as a day player
on this porn film in L.A.

Just to see
what it was like, right?

So, I spent five hours with this guy
ramming his dick up my ass…

and these two women
licking my clit.

Not what you’d expect,
though. It’s just acting.

I mean, at first, it was great.

Then you have some prick director that
comes over and yells "cut" in your face…

and some queen makeup artist that
comes over every couple of minutes…

to touch up the makeup that’s
been slobbered off your tits.

So you don’t really
have a chance to enjoy it.

Finally, I just walked off the set.

Cool experience, though.

You got a hard-on, Jarv?

All right...

Time to go.

Your cow is calling you.

- I am so sorry, Dr. Jarvis.
- Oh, no. Please, take your time.

You get the fuck out of my house.

Did you say you were from L.A.?

- What?
- What?

Is that how you answer
the phone these days?

I’m sorry, honey.
I thought you were somebody else.

- Did you know Mr. Wells when he was
living in L.A.? - Well, not directly.

Course, I heard of his work.

His work?

Isn’t that why you’re here?

What do you need?
I mean, how’s your day going?

Tough. We’re at
an impasse on the fee, so…

That’s great, honey.

What?
Casey, are you okay?

How’s everything there?

Oh, it’s interesting.
You really wouldn’t believe it.

Have you seen Dr. Jarvis?

- Yes, and he’s here right now.
- Really?

- How’s it going?
- Huh...

- You want one?
- One what?

A Casey Wells story.

- Yes, I would.
- How about the last one?

- Fine.
- All right.

Nick and Casey…

Had this guy, Jimmy.
A small-time nothing,

a bird dog for some
of the mid-level players.

It’s cool, man.
You just took too big a lick.

- - That is
some rank fuckin’ shit, man.

And he set up
a meeting between them…

and this big nigger
named… uh, Lester James.

Of course, most people
knew him as "Ballpeen."

- Ballpeen’s casa at 7:00. - Where in
the fuck a nigger get a name like that?

- You seen little nigger’s arm, right?
- Oh, yeah.

- That’s why they call him Ballpeen.
- He broke Jimmy’s arm...

With a ten-pound
ball peen hammer.

Three years ago
Lester James, a.k.a. Ballpeen,

was a big, stud motherfucker.

Had a stable of bitches
he fucked on a regular basis,

but every couple weeks…
he went out to get some strange.

One night, Lester finds
himself in this titty bar,

and this knockout white girl named Raven
is just gyrating her little tits off.

Well, L ester wanted her
in the worst way.

Even more when she told him
to go fuck himself.

He sprinkles
a little fairy dust on her…

somehow gets
her to go back to his place.

That was all she wrote.
He abused this bitch.

He fucked her every way
you can think of and then some.

Finally, he gets ready
to go again, and he figures…

he’d really degrade this bitch
and make her blow him.

So, he pushes
her head down and, bam!

She bites that
motherfucker’s dick… clean off.

Fortunately, they found it
and sewed it back on.

But it never worked right again.

The problem is, a story like that
gets around, you know how it is.

So to combat this, anytime he
even heard anybody talk about it,

he’d use this
fuckin’ hammer on them.

"Ballpeen" kind of stuck.

- And Jimmy? - Over the years, this
kind of shit gets out of control.

So one day, Ballpeen
is late fora meeting,

and Jimmy made the mistake
of asking if he’d been jerking off.

Next thing you know,
Jimmy’s got a broken arm.

Goddamn.

Fast-forward to Ballpeen's.
Just another drug deal…

- in La-La Land.
- Motherfuckers team make it out here?

Want to get this over with.

Shit makes me nervous.

What the fuck
is up with this shit?

You must have
some pretty bad fuckin’ karma…

feel the need
for that kind of artillery.

Don’t worry, babe.
It’s cool.

Casey. Whoa, whoa.
Hey, man!

Fuck you! You in my
motherfuckin’ house!

Now, come on, big black man.

You know I wouldn’t bring no niggas
up in here unless they was cool.

Let that bad motherfucker in.

- How’s that arm, nigga?
- It’s all right.

- It’s still here.
- You a bad motherfucker?

I just don’t let people run their hands
all over me. It shows a lack of trust.

- May I sit down?
- Are you here to sit?

You tell me.

Sit down.

- Shit looks good.
- Your turn.

Why don’t you show us
the money now?

Why don’t you, uh. let me
choose the next kilo to test?

Help yourself.

Derrick.

Count ’em, Jimmy.

Some more, square?

Since we’re all good friends here,
I got a question for you.

Ask away.

It’s all here, Case.

I heard about
this big, bad motherfucker.

He’s got this habit
of hitting niggers with his hammer.

I’ve heard the reason
why he uses it…

and I can sympathize.

But, uh… there’s this one thing…

that I just... I can’t
get it out of my head.

- Go on.
- Well…

I heard about how most niggers got
these really big dicks, you know.

I mean…
just salami-sized cocks.

Well…

Now, I’ve had many
a different blow job…

by any number
of different bitches.

So, I know how much room
even my white-boy dick…

takes up
in a bitch’s mouth, right.

My question…

is how the hell
this little bitch…

got this big,
nigger dick in her mouth…

chomped it off all in one bite?

She could have gnawed
on it for a while,

but I don’t think there’s a
motherfucker in here let that happen.

- Yo, we got a problem here.
- So, the only thing l can think of…

is that this big, bad
ass-kickin’ nigger…

had this little, itty-bitty dick…

wouldn’t have
done him no good, anyway.

What do you think?

Am I close?

I said, we got
a motherfuckin’ problem here!

What you doing, man?
I’m fuckin’ dead.

- Fuckin’ dead.
- Why didn’t you use a silencer, Casey?

Get the fuckin’ money, Jimmy.

I’m fuckin’ dead.
I’m fuckin’ dead, man.

Why didn’t you use
a silencer, Casey?

You want to go door-to-door...
Tell everybody my fuckin’ name?

- Oh! I’m fuckin’, fuckin’ dead.
- Fuckin’ forgot ’em.

Good luck, man. I don’t know
what the fuck is wrong with you.

We got 45 seconds.
Let’s go.

You still here?

- What are you doing?
- I’m leaving.

I’ve heard quite
enough for one day.

What— What?
What did you tell him?

- I don't even know this bitch.
- Well, she certainly seems to know you.

Thank you very much.
It’s been a pleasure to meet you.

Could have made
a very bad mistake.

Dr. Jarvis.
Now, I... I...

- Doctor!
- We’ll be in touch, Mr. Wells.

No, now, there’s been some kind
of a mistake, Dr. Jarvis.

Dr. Jarvis!

- I’m fucked.
- Yes… you are.

14:40 friction

Well, Case, it’s just you and I.

What do you think?

My wife’s going to have my ass
when she finds out I let…

some dyke in a pink rubber dress
blow off her chances…

for Happy Meals
and diaper wipes.

It’s red, asshole.

- Where is it? - I’ll tell you,
if you answer one question.

Sure. Shoot.

Are you on the rag?

Because you look like
one of those women who are…

explosive under stressful
situations, and...

Being married, you should fucking know
how much women hate that question.

But being a typical male,

you ignore your better judgment…

and ask anyway, huh?

I should just do your wife
a favor and blow your head off.

It’s as if every mood swing
can be written off as…

"She’s just on the rag."

Like that explains something.

Women have mood shifts,
that is a fact of life.

And for your information,
I am a complete bitch,

whether I’m on the rag or not.

Hmm?

Now, let me answer
your question.

- Does that answer it? - I’d say
you’re right. You’re just a bitch.

Good.
Now…

answer my questions…

before you start losing appendages.

It’s gone.

- Gone?
- Yeah.

- What do you mean, it’s gone?
- I 86’ed it.

I sent it
swimming down the sink.

- Bye-bye.
- You’re one smooth motherfucker, Casey.

You can keep the smack,
and I’ll take the money,

- And we can call it even.
- Money? What fucking money?

It seems we’re going around
in circles here. Hmm.

I want the two mil, Casey.

- Let me—
- Let me explain something to you.

I am not a drug dealer.
It’s been four years…

since I’ve even seen any drugs.

I’m an architect.

I am a happy little Republican…

who spends
the majority of his time…

trying to figure out
how to pay the fucking bills…

and make his wife happy.

I got to tell you, Casey,
I’m not impressed.

After everything
I heard about you…

I thought you were
gonna be more like… me.

But you are a sheep
like all the rest.

There will come a time…

when even you
can’t handle it anymore.

You’ll pack it up
or you’ll put a bullet…

in that pretty
little head of yours.

Or someone else will.

You are a pussy, Casey.

Nick wouldn’t admit
it, but it’s true.

You just couldn’t
handle it, could you?

Nick ever tell you
about that last time?

Sure. Ballpeen’s apartment?

- Uh-huh.
- Did he tell you about the girl?

- What’s up?
- Why didn’t you use the silencer, Casey?

Get the fucking money.

- Why didn’t you use a silencer?
- You wanna go door to door…

and tell everybody
in the building my fuckin’ name?

- I forgot ’em, all right? - I don’t
know what the fuck is wrong with you.

Get the fuckin’ money, Jimmy,
and let’s get the fuck out.

We got 45 seconds.
Let’s go.

- What?
- Jesus.

She’s seven,
maybe eight months, pregnant, Nick.

Fuck me.

Come on, Casey, we got to go.

She’s dead, Casey.

Dead, just like we’re going to be…

if we don’t move our asses.

We got to go.
Snap out of it, man!

It’s clear. We got to jump. That bitch
was gonna kill you, man. Let it go.

- What about Jimmy? Is he—
- He’s meat loaf, bro.

This is it, Nick.

No more.

That was it.

Oh, that was a real
touching story, Case.

Remind me to submit it to Reader’s
Digest after you’re gone.

So it looks like we’re
going to have to wait for Nick.

What should we do
to kill some time?

I know.

- Let’s fuck.
- That’s happening.

Even if you weren’t the most
disgusting bitch I’d ever met,

I’d have to decline.
You see, I’m a married man.

You seem to be under the impression
that you have a choice here.

Ah, let’s see.

You’ll appreciate the irony here.

♪ When a boy loves a girl ♪

♪ He can’t be alone ♪

♪ She fills him with joy ♪

She wanted to watch.

♪ And the sound of her voice ♪

♪ Is beautiful music ♪

- ♪ A symphony plays when his angel
is near ♪ - Fuck you, bitch.

♪ I don’t know why ♪

- ♪ I can’t help myself ♪ - There’s no
fucking way you’ll ever get me inside you.

You want to bet?

♪ Slip me some tongue ♪

♪ An emergency came ♪

- ♪ Come on and get some honey make
me aware ♪ -

♪ You’re making me crazy ♪

♪ In the very best way ♪

♪ You’re making me dream ♪

Well, look at that.

Have you done this before?

♪ I don’t know why
I can’t help myself ♪

♪ I don’t know why
I can’t help myself ♪

Don’t worry.

I’m not going to kill
you till you come.

I’ll let you betray
your wife thoroughly.

Maybe if we get lucky,
I’ll get pregnant.

Oh...

That was one.

Don’t worry.
I’m multiorgasmic.

- Got it, honey?
- Yeah, hold on.

- Wait, wait, wait.
- Okay, it’s flashing.

Okay, here we go. Here we go!
Whoo! Okay, here we go! Whoo!

I love you.

I love you, too.

Number two.

Great self-control.

Goddamn, did you see the way
that bitch head explode? Shit!

Ordinarily, it would be a damn shame
to shoot a piece of ass like that.

You know what I mean? but in her
case, I’ll make an exception.

I always hated that bitch.
My name’s Billy Hill.

My friend’s call me "Hillbilly."
You can call me Mr. Hill.

I hope I didn’t interrupt
anything too romantic for you,

but that whore
could go all day long.

Besides, I was getting tired
sitting down in the cab of my truck.

She lost me on the freeway.

Let me give you
a little piece of friendly advice.

I know you’re retired. You got
this family thing going here.

But you really ought to have
your name and number unlisted.

Information girl
give me your address.

Your fucking address, man.
That don’t sound too smart.

- What are you looking for?
- Tequila.

- To your right.
- Mm.

The good stuff.

Fancy.

You got any limes?
No? Just as well.

Oh!
Yeah! Damn!

It always tastes like
old feet to me.

That shit’ll fuck you up,
though. Mm.

You ever hear how it’s made?

A bunch of Mexicans sitting
around this big wooden vat…

chewing on agave, right?

They do this days and days
spitting into this giant vat.

Then when it’s full,

then they leave that there
to ferment.

When it’s ready,

they scoop off the top layer.

That’s mescal.
Nasty, huh?

No wonder that shit
tastes so bad.

Well, I ain’t going
to shit you, pal.

When I leave here today,

you’re going to be dead
as Cinderella over there.

Regardless of what you tell me,

I’m gonna fuck you up.

Ready to get started?

I know you threw out the smack

And you probably don’t know
where the money is, neither.

That’s cool.

The truth is…

I ain’t got nothing
better to do…

while I wait here
for my old friend, Nick.

Just so you know, I ain’t
going to let you bleed to death.

No, sir.
’Cause when I cut you,

I’m going to cauterize you.

I consider myself an artist.
Matter of fact,

I picked up this little girl
at this dub one time,

and I cut on her for 16 hours.

That’s a personal best.
But I keep hopin’.

You know, in a way,

- it’s really Nick that’s to blame
for all this. -

If he hadn’t tried
to double-cross me and Dallas,

I wouldn’t be here.

All right. Now, let’s see.

I think I’m going to start
at the feet and work my way up!

What the hell?

Open the door. Police!
Open the fucking door. Will!

There’s no Will here! Go away!

Stupid son of a bitches.
They got the wrong house.

Go away!

- -
Everybody on the ground!

Don’t go nowhere.

Where’s the money, motherfucker?

Where’s the money?

I mean, there’s no money in here!

Shut up, bitch!

There’s a .45 in the fridge…

and you grab
a fucking frying pan.

I’m must have
some really bad karma.

Stupid cops.

They busted up the wrong house.

They went in,
blew everyone away!

The wrong house!

They got the Wong house.

They got the Wong house.

Shit, man. Lighten up.

Where the hell was I?

Yeah.
I think I was, uh...

This piece of shit
was going to cut you up.

Now you fucking do it.

Do it!

Fuck!

Dallas was right.

Hello.

- Hey, Case.
- Nick!

Man, it’s good to hear from you!

Goddamn.
I just wanted to tell you…

- how much I enjoyed your visit.
- I know you’re pissed.

Pissed? Oh, no, I’m not pissed. If you
hadn’t brought your friends along…

what would I have done
with my day, man?

I’d a missed out on being beaten and raped,
abused, tied up, generally fucked up.

- Casey— - Not to mention
what you done for my house.

What would you call it?
Early-Gothic horror.

I don’t have time for this shit.

I’m dead.

Unless I make this next plane,
you can write me off.

- There’s still a chance for you.
- Where’s the money, Nick?

That’s why I’m calling you.
I stole it from the cops,

and they ain’t
real happy about it.

They’re going
to be coming after you.

They already hit
the house next door.

It’s only a matter of time.

- What about the fucks you stole
the shit from? - Oh, they’re dead.

Unfortunately, the niggers
who they work for ain’t.

They’re going to find you too,
sooner or later.

Come on, man.
Where’s the money?

I hid it.

I want you to get out
of town for a while.

Take a vacation—
A second honeymoon. Something.

One day when you’re sitting
on a beach sipping a cold one,

spare tire around your waist,
think about me, bro.

- Where you going, Nick?
- Can’t tell you.

Your car’s at I.A.H.
in short-term parking.

There’s a flight leaving
for Paris tonight at 8:05.

If I were you, I would be on it.

- I got to go. - Hey, Nick, you
really getting married, man?

No, man.

Not my style.

Nick?

I love you, Case.

I’m sorry about the shit.

Maybe one day
I’ll make it up to you.

I got to go.

Adios.

Nick...

Nick?

Nick?

Oh, fuck.

Just a minute.

Oh, shit, that’s cold.

Mr. Wells.

Detective Kasarov.
May I come in?

Sure.

This is a nice place you got here.

I like the mailbox... cute.

My wife’s idea.

I’ll have to drive
my wife by sometime.

She’d... She’d love it.

- Feel better now?
- Tons.

Keep yours.
It’s a gesture.

- Mind if I get something to drink?
- No, no. Help yourself.

Casey, why don’t you
take a peek in that bag?

I got a little
something for you.

Soy milk.
I just love soy milk.

You know, one of my kids
is lactose-intolerant.

So I ended up getting
hooked on the shit.

Couldn’t get enough of it.

I don’t get too much anymore.
Mmm.

Ahh!

Well...

Why don’t we…

handle our business like
a couple of grown-ups.

I mean, Casey, you know
I didn’t pop over here…

for some social visit.

Your friend, Nicky,
stole a lot of money from us.

Killed a few officers
in the process.

Deaths we can overlook.

Okay?

But we want our money back.

Like I’ve been telling everybody
come through here...

I realize you don’t have it,
but you know where it is.

Somewhere in the deepest
recesses of your brain,

you know.

You can’t tell me after all the time
you spent with Nicky…

you don’t know
how his mind worked.

You just figure it out.

- I’m telling you— - I know how much
you’re doing to clean up your act.

And I venture to guess that...

That your good-looking wife
doesn’t even know about your past.

Right?

Tell you what, Casey,
I want to make you a deal.

You have that money
here tonight at 7:00,

And I’ll make this fuckin’
nightmare disappear.

- Where do you got the bodies?
- In the garage.

Let’s go.

What the fuck is this?

I didn’t know what to do with them.

Well, I’ll tell you
something, Casey

If I was you, I’d clean up
this mess, because your wife’s…

going to come home and
she’s not going to be very happy.

Any suggestions?

Well, I’ll tell you,
if, uh, I’m not mistaken…

I think today’s garbage day.

7:00.

Sharp.

And if I don’t find it?

Casey, I’d try real hard.

How do I know all of this
is going to disappear?

Don’t be late.

One day, when you’re
sitting on a beach sipping a cold one,

a spare tire around your waist,

think about me, bro.

You’re good, Nick.

You’re very, very good.

"Sorry I missed it. Nick."

Whew.

"Never forget who
you are, man. You do, you die.

Love, Nick."

17:30 dialing for dollars

Who the fuck’s this?

This is the motherfucker
who killed the ganja man.

I got your shit, motherfucker.

Yeah?
Then if you do,

you have one mil
at my casa at 7:00,

’cause I’m auctioning
the shit off.

My name is Casey Wells.

You can’t find me,
you don’t get to bid.

7:00.
Don’t be late.

Looks like it’s just
you and me, partner.

All right, Casey. Time’s up.

He’s in the kitchen!

Casey, what are you doing here?

Can I speak with you a minute?

I’m kind of in the middle
of something here, Casey.

Casey, you remember Allen?
Hey, Allen, excuse us.

God, of all the times
you decide to spaz out.

- Whose car?
- It was Nick’s. I’m borrowing it.

It’s not important.
Here's the deal.

I’m going to France.
My plane leaves in one hour.

I miss it.
I won’t be going anywhere.

What? Your little friend’s
gotten you in trouble, hasn’t he?

God.

What, are you just going
to go with or without me?

I got no choice.
Line in the sand, Chris.

For better or for worse.

That’s your decision.

I love you.

You’re asking me
to throw away my life.

This has got its own reward.
Now, I got to know.

You in or you out?

Time’s up. I got to go.

Casey, wait.

Last chance.

- I won’t lose you, Casey.
- Good choice, Chris.

Let’s see what’s behind
door number one.

Oh, my God.

How much?

Two million dollars.

- I guess we won’t be too miserable.
- Did you rob a bank?

No. I’ll tell you all about it…
everything.

We got to catch that plane!

Oh, my God...

Sorry, Allen, I have to miss
that dinner tomorrow night.

Looks like I’ll be out of town.

So, how was your day?

I closed the account.

I’m really happy for you.

Oh. I didn’t know you cared.

Sweetheart...

There are a lot of things
you don’t know about me.

♪ Run, mister, run ♪

♪ Somebody said ♪

♪ Somebody said ♪

♪ Stop at the green lights
and go at the red ♪

♪ I must admit
I’m a little uneasy ♪

♪ I tried to warn you ♪

♪ I tried to say ♪

♪ I tried to say ♪

♪ Here comes my lucky day ♪

♪ Here comes the rainbow ♪

♪ We’re riding high
on our own ♪

♪ Here comes my lucky day ♪

♪ Here comes the rainbow ♪

♪ We’re riding high
on our own ♪