R.S.V.P. (2002) Movie Script
Aah!
No!
No!
Metro needs 2 units on flamingo.
Copy that.
Agents inside the tape,
stand by for a search out.
Well, a perfect
crime scene, or so it seemed,
until Vegas Metro and their esteemed
detectives contaminated the structure
with their misguided diligence.
The quick brown fox
was nowhere to be found.
Now, when the f.B.I.
Finally made an appearance,
the fox was long gone,
without a trace
of admissible evidence.
Drinks before the party, man?
Sure.
2 down, with 11 more to go.
The quick brown fox
went on to terrorize
the southwest
for the next 3 years.
When asked why he did it...
The fox replied...
I take your point, Nick,
but clearly
it's the consistency
has to be admired more.
It's not about body count,
man, it's about how long
you can continue
without losing your edge.
Or your mind.
Precisely.
In short, there's vastly more
skill involved in serial killing.
You know what?
You're doin' it again.
You're pigeonholing
all mass murderers
into this homogenous group of
spur-of-the-moment thrill killers.
I'm saying that if, and only if,
one wanted to pull off
a mass murder,
the chances of gettin'
away with it
would be far less than that
of your average serial killer.
Well, thus, you know,
it's by far a much more
difficult and impressive feat
to kill a group of people
without "a," getting
killed yourself,
or "b," getting caught,
tried, and most certainly fried.
And that, my friend, is the crown
Jewel of macabre accomplishment.
But you're forgetting
the golden rule.
Murder is qualitative,
not quantitative.
I mean, it's the style that's
remembered, man, not the body count.
So, this guy was on the
loose for 8 years, huh?
8 years. They caught him
at a fucking traffic stop.
That's the problem
with these guys.
They don't have any planning.
I mean, to... to...
To do this thing,
you need to have a plan.
You need to be... to be...
Hey! Whoa!
Whoa, woman.
Fancy meeting you here.
What's up, baby?
Hey, Nicky.
Yo, man, so what time's
this gig kickin' off tonight?
8:00, 8:30.
How you doin', Nicky?
I'm doin' just fine.
Come on, darlin'.
Excuse me, guys. Hey, manners.
I guess tonight's the last
they're gonna see
of each other, huh?
He's flying out
tomorrow afternoon.
So, you two cool
nowadays? You and, uh...
What's not to be cool about?
You cool, though?
Fine. All right.
So, what's on the agenda
for our last night
of collegiate bliss?
Nick and I are supposed
to grab some cocktails
with Evans, our, uh,
psych professor.
You wanna go?
Hmm. No. You... you
fellas go do your fella thing.
Just give me a call later.
If not, I guess I'll just
meet you at the party.
All right.
Ooh, look-it.
Check... check...
Check... check out his eyes.
Oh, what up?
He's a little killer,
you can just tell.
Hey, jackass!
You smack my baby again,
you'll never see another sunrise.
Success.
Glad to see we didn't
die of thirst, gentlemen.
Don't you understand
that's the beauty of it?
That's the art.
The art of all art. Yes, indeedy.
In medium of flesh and bone.
I was just thinking
that if one was to go
through with the whole
killing thing,
at least have the common decency
to kill the right
goddamn people.
If you're gonna step up
to the plate
and start taking
some people out,
I mean, at least put some
effort into choosing your victims.
Prostitutes and homeless?
Where is the challenge in that?
I dig it, man.
You know, I think
I'd start with, like, uh,
like, airline executives or, uh,
fucking, uh, cigarette
manufacturers
or, like, uh, like,
meter maids, man.
Traffic cops.
Lawyers.
Fuckin' tax men.
Poli-fuckin'-ticians, man.
Used car dealers.
Cab drivers.
Dentists. Stock brokers.
Fuckin' lawyers. Wait,
did somebody say lawyers?
Yeah, I believe so.
Fuckers. I'm killin' 'em again.
Forty-niners fans.
Umpires. Talk show hosts.
Black Jack dealers. Boy bands.
Women sports announcers, man.
Americans. Just wipe out
the whole country.
How about mimes?
Fuckin' mimes!
Th-there's so much
to choose from.
I mean, how does one decide
where the axe is gonna fall?
That is the question, isn't it?
I'm headin' out, man.
Wait, wait, wait. You're
forgettin' something.
It's not mine, pal.
Let's go, man.
There you go.
Once again, man,
the art of murder.
What else is he supposed
to talk about?
The guy's still a freak.
Without a doubt.
But you've gotta admit, he's
one goddamn entertaining freak.
The other day, he was telling
me about one of his favorite films,
by Hitchcock, called
rope. Have you seen it?
Yeah, it's the... the
one-take film.
Anyways, it was
originally this play
loosely based on the
Leopold and loeb murders
about these couple
of queers that end up
killing their buddy just
for the thrill of it.
Make things more complicated,
after they waste him,
they stuff his body
in this huge chest, and they
throw a party. Party of all parties.
They put this thing dead-smack
in the center of the room.
They even invite
the guy's parents.
I mean, Christ, these
guys waste this guy,
put him in a fuckin' chest,
and then they serve hors
d'oeuvres over his cold, dead body.
It's masterful.
Precisely.
Well, shit, man, what
time's my party start?
I'd say as far as you and I
are concerned, it already has.
Tonight's the night.
Wouldn't have it any other way.
What the fuck is that?
What it be! What
it be! What it be!
Let me get some bitches.
Let me in this place.
Come on.
Come on.
What up? What up? What up?
You tell me, bud.
You're a half hour
early, my man.
Ah, I was in the neighborhood.
Besides, I figured
I'd stake out some territory.
Any good talent coming tonight?
Just the usual suspects.
Cricket, Leigh, Jordan.
Shit. If Jimmy don't show,
jordo's fair game.
My sentiments exactly.
Hmm. Nice selection
of cocktails.
Funky mood lighting.
Thought-provoking tunes.
Do I have your seal of approval?
All depends what you
can match up with this.
Sha-dink!
The big green buds.
You know, I think
I just might have
something to meet your needs.
Hey, beauty chest, man.
Yeah. I'm kinda partial
to it myself.
Listen, I'll be right back.
Don't touch anything.
Crush the weed, crush
the weed, crush the weed
Unh!
7:30.
7-fucking-30.
Oh!
Wabbit season.
Ay, carumba.
Weapon of choice.
Not bad.
Not bad at all.
You pack it.
Damn man.
Plastic surgery must be treating
your uncle Atticus good.
When's he getting back?
Never.
Any bitches out there?
Nick's pleasure palace
of pain and worship.
What's the secret
pass code, please?
Wow. I didn't realize.
Do I need an appointment
or can you take me as a walk-in?
I could take her as a walk-in.
Watch that ass, pal.
No, no!
Knock-a-Noh.
Evening, gentlemen.
No.
How do?
Loverly, thank you.
Beverage?
Lead the way.
I will, and be careful tonight.
Uncle Atticus
is remodeling yet again.
Not a problem.
It's amazing.
These pieces
are all museum quality.
He's got from
Jakarta, India, Tibet.
You name it, he's got it.
Open the door, clunk!
Whiskey d.
Honored friends.
Come on.
Your guests of dishonor
have arrived.
Open the door!
Oh, I take it Terry has arrived.
Yeah.
What the deal? What
the deal? What the deal?
Whiskey dick is officially
in the house.
Hey, you got any
food up in there?
Open the door. You're smashing my face.
Fuck that.
Open the door.
Yo, what the fuck?
Give us some
xena, skeletor shit.
What's on the agenda first?
Girlfriend, you
really should eat more.
You look a little pale.Welcome.
Hey, this is so nice...
Hey! Hey! Easy!
Easy! Easy!
Let me take that
away from you, baby.
It look like a man
could be hurt up in here.
Terry, what's up?
What's up?
T. Boogie.
Glad you made it.
What's up, baby?
Hey, skyles.
My man,
Nick-a-ricka. What's up, baby?
Rockin' good.
Brought your gee-tars, huh?
Oh, yeah.
Gonna do some jammin'?
I think we can
probably work that in.
Check these out.
Is there any predators
in here, man?
I was wantin' a piranha,
but I didn't see none.
You ever seen sea urchins fuck?
No. Yeah.
I'd like to, though.
It's a sight to behold, man.
I got a couple at home
and a freshwater barracuda, too.
You see... did you ever sp...
What? Did you ever spank to it?
Spank to my barracuda?
Jesus, Nicky, your uncle Atticus
is a crazy, hardius
fuckin' freak.
What's that baby?
The place is phat?
Yeah. He certainly
was eccentric.
I tell ya, I am so glad
that you guys could make it.
Ah, guys, girl.
Girl, guys.
Oh, well, thank you.
Thank you
for the refresher course.
She... she's got the breasts.
Just make yourself at home.
Listen, I got...
I got cocktails to the left,
bong hits to the right,
whips and chains in the back,
and on the roof,
well, I'll tell you
about that later.
B-Bong hits.
Where's the bong hits?
Over here.
Bong hits. Yeah.
Kid here yet?
No, not yet.
He sh... he should be
here soon, though.
Well, what's keeping him up?
Skyles.
So, did you and Nicky ever, uh,
wa-haa! You're so fucking bad!
Come on.
It's not like I'm
your fucking priest.
Not even one drunk, sloppy fuck
in the back of that '72 blazer?
Oh, my god. No.
You know, we just didn't
have that connection.
I dig it.
Nick can be a pretty
fuckin' strange cat at times.
Yes.
Just remember, bro,
it's all about perspective.
You see, uncle Atticus
always told me,
it's not about chopping
people up,
it's about holding the power
of life and death
over your fellow man.
So far as your
grad school query goes,
let's just say I felt
the institution
had very little left to offer.
Left to offer?
You were 20 credits away
from the end of
6 years of torture.
6, 7, kind of lose track
after a while.
But, you got, what,
a buck-60 I.Q.,
you speak 4 languages fluently,
and, still, you're the
only motherfucker I know
that does not want a degree.
Are you trying to analyze me,
professor plum?
I mean, we are in the study.
No, man.
It's just obvious.
Between all the weed,
the booze, and the pills
you've consumed
over the years, dude,
I'm surprised
you're still walking the earth.
Surprise nothing, man.
I'm a goddamn genuine,
modern-day alchemist.
Is that right?
My body's a fine-tuned machine
running on caffeine, nicotine,
t.h.c., I.S.D.,
and chef boyardee.
Ain't nothin'
gonna break me down, fool.
That's right.
Remember that one time
you scarfed down 2 hits of acid
and decided to run the New
York City marathon the next day?
Shit. When was this?
Days of my youth when I was
freelancing for rolling stone.
Uh-huh. Dr. Larry over
here, uh, snuck on the course
and crossed
in just under 4 hours.
Bullshit.
Uh-uh. Tell him what
you did when you finished.
Went to the nearest pub
and grabbed me a heine.
Oh, thank you.
Man, I haven't heard from Jimmy
all afternoon, that little shit.
Oh, he stiffed me
at dinner, too.
All I got was a page that
said he couldn't make it.
Maybe he's tying up
all his loose ends, you know?
Change of address,
getting the gas shut off,
breaking the news
to his favorite hooker.
Mm-hmm.
You know, that sort of thing.
Nice, Terry.
Oh, fuck!
Oh, shit. You probably
put that in the back.
Yeah. If I'm spillin' shit now,
wait till I really
start drinking, huh?
Piss off.
Ha! And
don't even say it.
Look. Here, light me up.
I've known you since we were,
oh, what, man, this high?
Yup.
And as far as I can remember,
you never stuck around
for the final act, man.
Sports, academics, women. Huh?
I mean, face it.
When it gets close to the
end, Nick always bounces.
You know what?
That may be true,
but, in my defense,
I would just like to say
that life is about the
journey, not the reward.
Touche. I feel you.
But let's get
one thing straight.
Your over educated,
under-motivated,
scrawny, little toothpick ass
shows up at my site,
I'll be damned
if I giving it a job.
Under-motivated? Um-hmm.
Huh? Did you know
that it only takes
this much pressure
to cut human skin?
Uncle Atticus says
it's a perfect match.
Damn it, Nicky!
Uncool. Fucking uncool.
Shit!
What are you doing
in here, cricket?
I was looking for a
place to hang this,
but there aren't
any fucking hangers.
We have a gig tomorrow.
I don't want this
to get messed up.
Well, maybe you should've
asked me first, huh?
You know what, Nicky?
It's not like I'm
gonna steal nothing, ok?
You know what?
You're right.
I'm really sorry.
It's just... you know, my
uncle is just really stiff.
You know, he's
just really stiff.
It's all good.
Take care of this.
Nice ring.Ah.
All right.
Rockin' good.
Since we're all here,
I'm gonna jam out
this little ditty I've
been working on
about cricket's mother.
No.
No.
That stuff is bullshit.
All right.
Son of a bitch, man!
Oh!
That's the end
of this instrument.
Yeah. Rhythm tonight,
you know, rhythm...
Rhythm, drums, cello, harp.
Bring it on, man.
Hey, let me, uh,
let me toss that for you.
Take it. Toss it.
Love it. Live it.
Yo. Terry. Terry, get the door.
No, no. Wait!
Wait! Wait!
It may be Jimmy.
Let's hide.
Man, what's the point?
He already knows we're here.
Well, no.
If we hide and then
jump him, that'll be cool.
So, what's the call?
Do we surprise him or jump him?
Both!
Both! Yeah!
All right.
Hey, somebody get the lights.
Get against the wall!
Surprise, bitch!
Baby!
Nobody move.
Nobody gets hurt, scum bite.
Spread 'em!
Spread 'em!
Any needles, razorblades, drugs?
Psst. Terry.
Wingtips, Jim?
I know you're a businessman
and all, but wingtips?
Terry!
Oh, hey, Mr. Franklin.
What's up?
Expecting trouble
tonight, sport?
You know security's tight
these days,
republican white house and all.
Come on in.
Know what I'm talking 'bout?
Hey, let me get
your coat for you.
I'll hold this.
Glad you made it.
Everyone, this is Jim's aunt
and uncle, Mary and Walter.
Hey, loser.
What's up?
You're looking a little
suspicious yourself.
I might have to search you.
You know what I'm saying?
Nice try.
What are you doing?
What are you doing?
She's like 13.
What are you doing?
And?
Jim isn't here yet, is he?
No, but he should
pop up any minute.
He's probably at a strip club.
That's what I said.
Jordan.
Hi.
It's so good to see you.
Oh, it's so good
to see you, too, Mary.
You look fantastic.
Thanks.
All right, if I'm gonna wait, I
don't wanna do it empty-handed.
And what is your pleasure, sir?
Lead the way, son.
Oh, I have some
friends I want you to meet.
Hello there. Garrett.
This is Mary. Nice to meet you.
Jimmy's aunt. I am going to...
I didn't think you
were going to come.
I'm here, aren't I?
You sure are.
Glass of wine? All right.
That... is for your aunt.
Oh, Jesus.
It's not for you.
Yeah, right.
I don't know.
It's cool.
He'll be back in 6 months
when the training is over,
and I guess we'll just
see what happens.
What if they offer him a
full-time position after that?
Well, um...
I suppose we'll
just deal with that
when and if the time comes.
Are you referring to the company
offering him a
full-time position,
or someone else?
Oh, easy, girl.
What?
I mean, I'm just
exploring the obvious.
He is a man, after all.
I mean...
4 months of hand jobs,
and that full-time position
might be missionary
in the back of some Mary
Kay girl's pink Cadillac.
You know, he's not
gonna be alone
the whole time, Leigh.
Exactly my point.
Anyway, Mary...
We're gonna alternate
visits every other month
and, uh, I'm reasonably sure
that he can live
without me for that long.
So, uh...
Which one of the boys
do you claim,
if any?
Jim.
Cricket!
Jordan and I are gonna
alternate visits every month
because we know Leigh's
concerned about him.
Mmm.
Oh, he'd be flattered.
Now, a Martini's a nice drink
if you're some little
effete British spy
traipsing through
an alpine village.
But we are where?
We are in the united
states of america,
and we need an American drink.
You're talking about
a Manhattan.
Ah, bingo!
Yeah, but doesn't that
also have vermouth in it?
Sweet vermouth.
From Italy.
None of that French shit.
You wait for the frost
to form on your cup...
You strain it.
And you pour.
Dump it all.
Ah.
And then you add...
The most American of
American garnishes.
The cherry.
Mmm. Nothing wrong with
a little cherry.
Details, gentlemen.
Please.
Don't forget the details.
Separates the aficionados
from the masses.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Hold on there, champ.
We need a toast.
Ain't you civilized?
To Jim... In eternal bliss.
Here, here. And to his friends,
as fine a bunch of
guys as you'll ever find.
Salud.
Salud!
Smooth.
It's a rare time in
your lives, fellas.
Appreciate it.
The older you get,
the fewer tight
relationships you have.
It's inevitable.
Friends get married,
friends move away...
Hell...
Some of them even die.
Enjoy it while you got it.
Drink up.
Mmm.
Oh, come on, just one quick one.
Mary.
Please! Well, maybe just
a quick one.
Excellent! Ok.
Can you do me, too?
Sure.
Uh...
You know what?
Um...
Y'all wouldn't by any
chance have any of them, uh...
Special cigarettes, would you?
How special are
you talking about?
Anything, long as
it's not Mexican.
That Mexican dirt weed
just gives me a headache.
Damn, Leigh!
You didn't tell me
your aunt burned.
That is so fucking cool!
Yeah.
It's real cool until she raids
your stash one morning.
I wanna get high
I heard that.
So high
no habla espaol.
Let's see...
Mmm.
I wanna get high
so high
I wanna get high
So high
me and my pothead aunt.
Pardon me, gentlemen.
I'm gonna go check
on the women folks.
I believe I'll join you.
Hey, back up, bitch.
Oh, yeah, that's hydro.
Thanks for the drink, Walt.
My pleasure.
Share and share alike, girls.
That's what I always say.
Hey, baby, come here.
Groovy.
Double-fisted.
The ganja man.
Excuse me, shorty.
Damn. Ladies just gettin'
faded up in here, huh?
My nephew really values
your friendship, Nick.
Thanks, Walt.
Means a lot to me.
I sure am gonna miss him.
No, go on.
Go on, go on.
Smoke 'em if you got 'em.
I'll be in the area all day.
Oh, I got 'em.
No. Honey, I... I definitely
do not tell the future.
For if I did,
that would be denying free will,
and I, for one,
believe that we control
our own personal destinies.
The images act as catalysts
that evoke, or rather,
unlock the doors
to... to each of your psyches...
Allowing brief glimpses
on the potential,
hidden, or even repressed...
Selves within.
And...
Oh!
Oh!
My man, the fool!
The horny diablo.
Wild, wild, wild ride
for this young man.
Up and down, feast and famine.
But the cards definitely
favor you making a go.
Mmm, that's right.
I'm always one step
ahead of the reaper.
The reaper!
Let's see what you got, boy!
Steppin' in. Let's see.
Ok.
New man on deck.
Hey, I bet you
he gets the fool, too.
That would be some funny shit.
Ok.
What you gonna get?
What you gonna get?
Ah. Oh! Ooh.
Whoa!
The horny diablo!
Terry, Wah... Wah... Wah!
No, no, no, no, no.
Like I said!
You have to look
at all the symbols.
It's never about just one card.
I have always had a
feeling about you, Nick.
Fame.
It's fame?
And lots of it.
Really? Well, that is, if
he can ever finish anything.
Fame and fortune
are definitely what I see.
Is there anything else?
I think I see a bong hit.
I see another bag of
buds and some booze.
Does anyone know
what time it is?
It's about, uh, 9:30.
Jim was supposed to be here
over, like, a...
An hour ago, wasn't he?
Maybe, Jordan, he just
picked up that stripper.
What if he got in a wreck?
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
You're getting way
ahead of yourself.
Now, this boy's
running just a little late.
Anyways, what about
his... his new cell, you know?
Honey, that is a good idea.
May I use the phone?
Kids. I hope they
don't break anything.
Seems like everyone's all
wired together these days.
Miracles of technology.
I just never can keep up.
Give me a rotary and I'm happy.
I just hope
everything's all right.
Where'd he get the cell phone?
A graduation present.
I forgot he even had it.
That's the most
analog motherfucker
Mmm.
Oh.
Where is that number?
Oh!
I'm sorry, Mary.
Can't be too careful
with that lot out there.
Oh!
Oh.
Oh.
Hey.
Yo, damn, son.
Excuse me would be nice.
No. Voicemail, email...
Shit.
10 to one he doesn't answer.
Ah, sucker's bet.
What you putting on, boy?
You know, when the
mood hits ya, it hits ya.
Ah. There you are.
Let's groove.
Get your groove
thing goin', boy!
Yeah, come on.
Yeah, here we go.
Mmm.
Do you hear that?
Hmm.
I think I hear the beginnings
of a good song.
No, no, it's like a...
Like a buzzing or a
ringing or something.
I don't know, I don't hear it.
I hear madness, though.
Yeah!so you come off the streets
I don't hear it
anymore. Oh, well.
Feel the heat
Hello, you've reached Jim,
and I'm currently
tied up right now,
unable to get to my phone.
Please leave your...
To the rockingest
rock steady beat
of madness
one step beyond
This is
here we go, here we go
one step beyond
Whoo hoo!
One step beyond
One step beyond
soul to soul
nation to nation
madness is a mutual
appreciation
one step beyond
Whoo!
What's the word, Ms. Franklin?
Voicemail.
What did I tell you?
I bet you he's currently
lying horizontally somewhere,
if you know what I mean.
I wouldn't exactly
say horizontally.
Terry, my friend...
If you would get our coats.
Nick...
You have to go so soon?
Well, it's well
past our bedtime.
Yes, and communing
with the spirits
takes a toll on Mary...
Not to mention the hooch.
Watch it, old timer.
Whoa!
Don't go falling down
on us just yet, Walter.
You sweet thing.
Thank you for having us.
And, uh, your uncle has
a wonderful place here.
Please give him
our best regards.
I will.
By the way, Nick,
how is the dear doctor?
We haven't seen him
in quite a while.
You know, he hasn't been
feeling very social lately.
Tell the truth, he rarely
leaves the house these days.
Really? Where is he right now?
Finally.
The boy has a classic
sense of timing.
Surprise!
Who the fuck is that?
Damn, hal, what did
you do, run up the steps?
Rough evening, huh?
You look like one man
who could use a drink.
You have no idea.
Mr. and Mrs. Franklin,
everyone, this is hal Evans,
one of Jim's and my old
criminal psych professors.
Don't let the poor schlep's
appearance fool you, though.
He actually is fairly harmless.
Go in, have a good time.
Skyles. Evans.
Don't worry, baby.
We'll have lunch with him
tomorrow before the flight.
Hmm?
Walter...
Hey, Walt...
What came after slim...
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Where's the fire?
My aunt left her magic plastic.
Well, Leigh, it's nearly 10:00.
I reckon she's not doing
any more readings.
I know. She just...
Freaks out when she
doesn't have them.
She thinks it's bad
luck or something.
Ah.
They're probably down
in the garage by now.
Yeah.
Besides, you know,
I was thinking that,
well...
I'd rather that you
stuck around.
Stuck around, huh?
The thought crossed my mind.
Mine, too.
Good.
Come on, let's meet Evans.
The guy's a fuckin' trip.
Only one guess, and you
will be judged on style.
And now what does
the winner get?
If it's you, one night with me.
Anyone else, a shot of Tequila.
And a complimentary
pair of these!
I believe they're a small "c".
Uh, what exactly is
the object of this game?
Where's Jim?
He's not here yet.
No, stupid, that's
the object of the game.
We're trying to figure out
where the kid is right now.
Instead of here?
Well, just wherever
you might think he is.
I mean, we're gonna Chuck
names into a hat,
pick from it,
and when the kid shows up,
we see who nails it.
What if there's, like,
2 winners, you know?
Let's say, uh...
He's at the titty bar
and the whorehouse?
No!
Shit! Oh, come on!
Come on, man, it's
a legitimate question.
What the fuck.
All right, house rules, then.
All draws will be
settled by a duel
to the death at 10 paces.
Vote away.
I don't know,
I think I got it.
Go easy.
I'm gonna win.
Man and beast...
Blood and sand...
Cheered on by tousands...
Within a sacred circle.
Now... that's what
bullfighting's all about.
That's what I'm talkin' about.
To us and.
Don't give me any of this
romantic Hemingway crap.
It's fuckin' barbaric
and cruel, man.
End of story.
That's because you fail to
see the beauty within, man.
Within what?
Within the dance...
The dance with death.
Come on, that's what
the audience pays to see.
That's what they come
to vicariously feel.
They want to be that matador...
Who not only faces the
possibility of his own demise,
but also is one who is about
to impose a mortal sentence
upon the beast
at any given moment
with one fatal
plunge of his foil.
So the object is
to just kill the thing
like a modern-day
gladiator match.
Yeah, if you consider
6 against one fair.
These guys...
Ride into the arena
on their horses.
Crowd's going crazy.
Everybody's happy.
And then they, uh...
Then they...
Then they stab the bull
in the neck,
and then they jab these
spear things into its back.
Bandillero.
What the fuck are you,
Irish or Spanish?
Suck my fucking cock.
Whatever. The fact is
that then and only then,
after they've run the thing
ragged and bleeding
do they let the, uh, the brave
seor back into the arena
to come in and finish him off.
No, man, no, no, no.
Well, yes, all right?
But no. I mean, the
whole point of the festival
is that the matador first
has to put on a show.
Anyone can just slaughter
the goddamn things.
The greatest roars of
pleasure you'll ever hear
echoing from the arena
are those during the
setup, man, not the climax...
For brave seor's
true goal and duty
is to come as close to
fucking death as possible
without ever once...
Flinching.
So does the, uh,
matador ever get caught?
Ah, all the time.
No, every great matador
can count on getting gored
at least once in his career.
So then why do they do it?
The money.
Those cats must make
beaucoup dinero.
Not to mention
the finest seoritas
with the nice breasteses.
Again, that is a part of it,
but when you get right down to
it, they do it because it's addictive.
I mean, it's really knowing
that you have enough
skill and control
that you can dance
and flaunt and manipulate
these poor bastards
any way you want...
All for the amusement
of the crowd.
Most importantly, yourself.
This guy's
talking out of his ass.
It's all about the bitches.
You know what, professor?
What?
If I wanted to hear this crap,
I would've enrolled
in your nifty little class
over there at the university.
You know what,
enough about death. I don't give a shit
about this, man.
I came to drink some beers...
Let's make some noise,
baby, come on.
Yo, skyles.
Let it go, man. Come on.
All right, where's the guitars?
Pardon. Bust 'em out.
Where you going?
To the ladies' room.
Is that ok?
That's fine.
Would you get me a
beer while you're up?
What, no more cocktails?
It's about that time.
Evening.
Your idea with the lights?
Could say they make certain
activities more interesting.
Like...
Oh, I don't know.
Oh...
Wait a minute, wait a
minute, wait a minute.
What?
Look, look, look.
Oh.
Like I said, it makes
certain activities...
No, no, keep looking.
This is all about you.
Even with your ex-girlfriend
about 20 feet away?
Are you wondering if I'm getting
some sort of perverse
thrill from all of this?
Indeed.
No more than you're getting.
Fucking around with your
big brother's best friend.
Best friend who used
to fuck his girlfriend.
Until he stole her away.
So now, all you are left
with is little sister.
Sounds good to me.
That feels good.
Feels good, too.
Takin' candy from a baby.
Whew.
What are you doing,
dying in there?
Fuck!
Come on.
They say women take a long time.
Oh, whew.
Sorry. Terry was just in here
and we are...
Strongly suggesting everyone
to find alternative means.
What?
Well, we're currently
experiencing a plumbing problem.
Trust me, it is for
your own safety.
Oh, boy.
Um, hey, Nick,
I just wanted to thank you...
For having this party
for Jimmy and all.
It's very big of you.
That's me. Mr. Big.
Anyway, it just makes
the move apart
a little easier.
So thank you.
So, where'd you say
that bathroom was again?
Uh, down the hall to the left.
Ok.
Oh, um... Have you seen Leigh?
No, I think she took off.
Took off? What did you
and Mr. Big do to her?
Nothing.
Mm-hmm. Don't tell me
she spurned your charms?
Nothing of the sort.
But kind of you to still notice.
What is with that family?
They don't show up.
They don't say good-bye.
What a little bitch.
Oh, well, fuck him.
Bravo! Yeah, yeah, yeah!
That song never
ceases to kill me.
Oh, very impressive.
Very impressive.
Thank you very much.
You guys are all, like,
in a band, is that it?
Yeah, man.
Our name's whiskey dick.
At the moment of truth,
they always fail to perform.
Don't go projecting your
sexual inadequacies onto us.
It's just a name.
Yeah, but a name that you
hope one day will become famous.
Am I right?
Well, I'd venture to guess
that that's pretty much the
goal of any band, mister.
Whoa, take it easy. Jesus.
I wasn't trying to impugn
the level of your talent.
So get to the
fucking point, then.
Impugn?
The point is, if all you
want to be is famous,
there's a much easier
way to obtain it.
Which is?
Any guesses? Nick.
Murder.
All right. What's
the correlation here
between this freak and death?
"A", I readily concede
that I am a freak, right?
And "b"...
Death is just this particular
freak's hobby and occupation.
You're sick, dude.
I'm just observing the
facts, and the facts are,
if you wanna be famous,
it's a hell of a lot easier
by committing a great murder
than it is writing a great song.
Ok, you're just playing
around now, right?
'Cause that's stupid.
You'd rather kill a
motherfucker than sing a song?
No, no, no, hear me out.
You all might be
the greatest rock and
roll band since the doors.
Actually, I prefer
social d, myself.
Right?
Well, whatever, you
know. The bottom line is...
In your business...
Success is a good part talent
and also a good part luck.
I'll give you that. True, that.
Now, murder...
On the other hand...
One depends solely on oneself.
And then your fate is
what you make of it.
Now, I could be famous by
sunrise, if I really wanted to be.
Oh, really?
And how's that?
I'd kill everyone in this room.
How about
we all kill you instead,
then we could all be famous.
Think of all the great
murderers in history.
Better yet, think of the fact
that they're all household names.
Richard Ramirez, Ted Bundy...
Kenneth Bianchi,
Jack the ripper.
Charlie man son.
That crazy cannibal
up in Minnesota.
Is there any other
kind of cannibal?
Yeah. I kind of feel like
crazy and cannibal
go hand in hand,
up in this motherfucker.
Jeffrey dahmer's the
cannibal you speak of.
John Wayne gacy. The killer clown.
Danny rolling. The gainesville ripper.
Henry Lee Lucas. The sultan of sadism.
Aileen wournos. The black widow of
American interstates.
The son of Sam. Davy berkowitz.
Talkin' to dogs and shit.
Richard speck.
Born to raise hell.
Can't forget the juice. That fucker's
still on the loose.
The zodiac killer. Never even caught.
Green river killer
I don't think they
caught him either.
The night stalker. Hillside strangler.
Boston strangler. Bedroom basher...
Toledo clubber, gay slayer,
co-ed killer, happy face,
trail side, 22
alphabet, freeway,
killer killer killer killer!
Fuck it!
Beast of bastille,
vampire of Sacramento,
the lust killer of Atlanta,
the torso butcher of Cleveland,
and last but not least,
the axe man of New Orleans.
Any more?
Leopold and loeb.
Brilliant.
Heavy shit, man.
Funny, but heavy.
Fuck, I gotta take a piss.
What you're talking
about isn't fame.
It's called infamy.
It's one and
the same to me, pal.
Yeah? Huh.
Well, to the rest of us, uh,
civilized human beings here,
the 2 terms ain't even close.
Furthermore,
I think I've had, uh...
Just about enough of
your pseudo, psycho,
intellectual bullshit
for one evening.
There's a hell of
a lot more to life
than death, asshole.
Take it easy, pal.
You know, there's no
need to get hostile.
That wasn't hostile.
Oh, shit!
Kick his ass!
Oh, what?
All right, that's enough, baby.
Ding, ding, ding, ding.
That's... oh!
Stop, you guys!
This is fucking stupid!
My god, this is a fucking party!
Whoo!
That's him,
heavyweight champion!
Ahem.
Oh, thanks.
Yo, man, what...
Fuck, what's goin' on, man?
Dude, where were you?
What the fuck did I miss? Where you been, man?
T, did you hear that shit?
I was in the shitter, man. He was hot.
I need a whiskey,
I need a beer.
What's goin' on?
What the fuck happened?
Look at this shit.
Like all great matadors, hal...
Inevitably, you get gored.
What'd I miss? I'm going to beat
the shit out
of that fucking bastard
until he got
a cheap shot in here.
Who? Who... who? Fucking Evans, man.
Maybe these will
change your luck.
He was talking shit.
You know, about death and all.
Dude, come on.
Do you need stitches? No. We're not going
to touch it because we got
a gig tomorrow night, man.
I'm going to fucking
hit the stage, dude.
I'm going to have
this fucking cut, man.
The bitches are going to
be like aah! Skyles! Skyles!
Fitting.
This fucker does not let up,
man, about this murder shit.
He went flying over
the side of the couch.
Feel like I've been
fighting that mother...
That's all right, baby.
What's going on, guys,
is this your corner
crew or what?
And I'm sorry about Evans.
I mean, the dude
pisses people off.
Yeah. He's a real great
guy to have around.
Quite a dick.
Love him.
I love him.
Yeah, well, you know what,
you just got to get to know him.
Oh, yeah.
Th-that's on my agenda.
You ready, son?
Actually, I think
I'm going to stick around
for a bit and wait for Jimmy
to make that big appearance.
How are you getting home?
Yeah, man, I'm not
coming to pick up
your crazy ass in the morning.
That's cool, because,
uh, Jordan lives out my way.
I'll just, you know...
Yeah, boy. Hitch a little ride.
Get home
safe, all right? Yup, later.
All right, I'm going
to take you home, now.
Hey, Nicky, make sure he doesn't
do anything else stupid tonight.
Yes, man, and make sure
he gets some rest.
We have a gig tomorrow.
Know what I'm saying?
No worries. I promise, he's
going to sleep like a rock.
Good.
Come on, let's go down.
My man, it's been...
Nick!
Don't think you're going
to make that gig tomorrow.
All in a day's work.
Bob vila, eat your heart out.
Ha ha ha.
Ha ha! I knew it!
I knew it.
Little devil, trying to pull
something off like this,
without even calling me.
I mean, your music came, like,
pouring through my windows.
Nicky, I almost puked.
So, tell me,
what's the occasion?
Funeral.
You're fucking with me, right?
It's just going to be
a little private affair.
That's why I didn't call you.
Oh, well you don't have room in
that big ol' penthouse for little ol' me?
You know, I wasn't expecting
to have to deal
with any more guests.
Well... But what the hell?
Right? I mean, we're neighbors.
Ha! I'm sure that I can
squeeze you into my plans.
That's very gracious
of you, Nicky, really.
Very gracious.
So, what is this,
a little late-night
remodeling or what?
No. I was just, uh, always
curious if these things really worked.
And what was the verdict?
Surprisingly, quite well.
Uh-huh!
Hey, everyone, this is Callie
my neighbor from downstairs.
Hi. I'm the one whose head
you've been stomping
on all evening.
Oh, how rude of us.
Let me make it up to you,
with say, cocktail,
bong hit, open-faced
cheese sandwich.
Actually, all 3
sound fairly tempting.
Let me give you a quick
breakdown of what's going on.
Hey, hey, hey, where you...
Where you going?
I'm just not in the
party mood anymore.
What're you talking
about, Jordan? It's early.
I mean, don't you want
to be here with open arms
when your man arrives
and give him a big old hug?
Come on, Nicky. Everything's
been cool up until now.
Don't ruin it.
Listen, I am just pointing out
the possibilities.
Rich kid like him,
parents are loaded,
fortune 500 future.
You know what? Jim's
money has nothing to do
with why we're together.
You're just bitter.
Yeah, well, let's see, huh?
Girlfriend breaks up
with boyfriend
and shacks up with
boyfriend's best friend,
who just happens to be the
fattest cat on the West Side.
So, if that makes me bitter,
well, then, yeah, you got me.
You know what, Nick? I'm tired,
I'm worried, and
now, I'm really irritated.
So I'm not even going
to get into this
with you right now.
You and I are not together
because you couldn't commit
to anything. Not to school,
not to a career,
and definitely not
to a fucking
relationship with me.
Ah, you know, maybe if
there was a little more fucking,
it would've been... Bye.
Easier.
Hmm.
Guest of honor, huh?
Nicky said it was a funeral.
You know, Nicky's got
a pretty wild imagination.
Hey, Jordan... Jordan,
seriously...
Come on. Wait, all right?
Listen, I'm really sorry. It
wasn't right of me to say that.
I guess I'm just
pissed off at Jim, myself.
I know... I know
that you're worried.
And my attempt at a party
is, well, pretty much a bust.
But it is still a party.
I mean, shit,
it's not even midnight yet.
Any minute, Jim is going to
come waltzing through these doors.
Yeah. Blitzed out of his mind.
Almost definitely
blitzed out of his mind,
but he is going to come
waltzing through these doors.
And then, the real party's
going to start hopping.
So, what do you say? Hmm? How
about we give the punk one more ring?
I don't know. I...
Come on.
All right. Fine.
How about a smile?
No. A smile!
Perfect.
There you go.
Let's go in and call him, huh?
One, 2, 3, hit
Here we go. Check out
the treasure trove! Who wants...
Yo, t, how about
some dart wars, man?
Hell, no. We're going
to check out...
No, no. I got it.
I got it.
I swear, if he doesn't
answer, I'm calling his parents.
Well, you got a machine?
Machine?
Like an answering machine,
you know.
Maybe uh, maybe left
a message for you.
Shit. I didn't even
think about that.
Yo! You crazy, snake-assed
motherfucker, where are you?
Did you get him? I repeat...
Where the fuck are you?
Did you get him?
Yeah. You bet. Hold on.
Bull's eye, almost.
Fuck that game.
We're going to play
some naked twixter, man. Oh, yeah?
This place is fucking
kickin', man.
Hal and skyles went
round and round. No shit.
Yeah, no, I figured it would
happen, too, yeah.
Nick, let me talk to him. Wait.
Fucking classic, man.
Fucking classic.
Nick, give me the damn phone.
Hey, no. Jimmy, uh,
the old ball and chain. She wants
to chew your goddamn ears off.
Who wants in? Come on. Come on.
So, just get your ass
down here, pronto, all right?
I'm going to put her on.
There you go. Christ.
Jimmy, where the
hell have you been?
We've waited for you all night.
Jimmy? Hello?
Hello...
Nick, what's wrong
with the phone?
What?
The phone.
It's dead.
You know, just toss it here.
Maybe you hit the wrong button.
Hello...
Hello?
Well, doctor, I concur.
This here phone
is officially non-functional.
11:57 in the P.M.
Is there another phone
I can use somewhere?
Nope. Just the one portable.
Uncle Atticus is a firm
believer in minimalism.
Do any of you losers
have a cell phone?
Nope.
Sorry. Not on me.
No cell phone here, baby.
Nah. That shit'll
give you brain cancer.
That's the least of
your problems, bro.
Figures.
So, um, what did he say?
Where is that asshole, anyway?
He's down at the tunnel.
He's cavorting with the freaks
and the ghouls. Oh, right.
I'd make him scrub his cock
before he went to bed tonight.
Oh, that's, like, a little too much
information for all of us, there.
It's true, man.
Skyles, remember when you
brought that dirty girl from down there?
She gave you the clap and shit.
Nick, so what else did he say?
Jordan, you're killing me.
What he said was he's
going to be here soon.
So, what we're going to do,
is kick these shoes off,
relax and play
a fast, friendly, fun,
fabulous game of twixter.
That's right. Ok.
Right hand on left thigh.
Oh, please.Sorry.
All right now,
here we go.
Terry, what you got to do now,
is you gotta take your right foot
and put it on the yellow dot.
And Callie, what you gotta do
is take your left hand
and put it on the blue dot.
Terry, behave yourself.
Come on, now.
And, Jordan, once again,
you got to put your right hand
on the green dot.
Yeah. Right hand, baby,
on the green dot.
And Nick... Nick, you gotta put
your right hand on the green dot.
And Terry... Terry, rude.
You gotta fuckin',
uh, let's see...
You gotta put your right
hand on the blue dot.
And Callie, what you got to do
is put your left hand
on the green dot.
Callie, you gotta take your left
hand and put it on the green dot.
Terry, put your left nut
on the red dot.
Callie, take off your shirt
and put it on the blue dot.
Put your head... put your head...
Oh!
Yo, hal, why don't
you take your head
and shove it up
your ass now, man?
I'm out of here. I
gotta... I gotta use the can.
All right
Hey, hey. No!
Skyles, no. You can't
use that, man.
Hey, hey, skyles,
you can't use that.
Come on! Relax, dude,
I'm just taking a piss,
all right?
No, no! But, you can't use that!
Skyles!
Aah!
Somebody's cutting off
the circulation of my leg.
Whoa.
That motherfucker
threw you off your game, chief.
What you're going
to have to do now
is go back out there
and get in the action.
I got a finger in my ass!
Ah! Ole!
I'm going to lay
down, man. I'm going to puke.
Ole!
Ole? What does
that mean? Ow!
Ole!
Ow! Ok.
Enough!
No mas, no mas.
Let's catch a smoke on the roof.
Ok. Um, Nick, if Jim calls,
will you please come get me?
Oh, yeah. Sure thing.
Absolutely.
Terry, cold and wet?
Your mother.
Beverage, fool.
You want something?
Do you have any wine?
Ah, but of course, madame.
Make mine a mug.
Coming right up.
Hell, let's go
check out the study.
It's awesome.
Do do do da da da
Check this shit out, man.
The study! Sha-dimp!
Nick, uh, Nick hates it
when I'm in here, man,
because uncle Atticus
will whoop his little ass.
Look at this smooth
motherfucker.
Do do do dup
Depends on what you can
match up with this. Sha-dink.
Ahh.
I think it's time
I get some air.
I said bong head.
Drinks are served.
Merlot?
Oh. Thank you, darling.
Cheers.
Yeah, whoa-ho-ho.
To Jim.
Yeah. To Jim.
Jimmy. Oh, hold on.
Callie, you... you
want to join us?
Oh, no. I mean, I barely
even know the guy.
For all I know, he could
be like a total asshole.
He probably is. I mean, he fucking
missed, like, most of his party.
You know?
You know, she's got a point.
I guess she does.
Uh, people like him, you know.
They think they're so smart
because they've been
in college for what?
Like 10 years or
something? And they think
that makes them all high
and mighty, fucking superior.
I-I don't know.
I think it was equal parts.
He had it coming
and you were overreacting.
Nope. He was pissing
me off on purpose.
Ok.
I mean, some of those
guys... fucking grad students and shit...
Man, no offense or nothing,
but they are, like, the most
ignorant and annoying people
on the face of the earth.
They're like fucking
talking monkeys.
All they do
is regurgitate the last
thing they heard or read.
And then they take
that as gospel,
without ever applying
the lessons in real life first
to see if the... the
authors, or, hell,
even their goddamn
professors were full of shit or not.
Just because a guy's got
a few letters after his name,
doesn't mean everything
he says is right.
Most of it could be total crap.
Now, man, by nature,
is a morbid beast, right?
Stuck between his own
natural, genetic instincts to kill,
and his own modern dictums
to be civil.
Whoo. Bitter.
I mean, let's face it, man.
You know, in this day and
age, money is our meat. Right?
We don't go out and kill to survive
and breed, right? We make money
to survive and breed.
The only problem is what to do with
all those old instinctual urges for blood
that got us this far.
Excuse me.
I mean, shit, I read
some of those guys
they're always
bullshitting about.
Nietzsche and... and
that Russian dude.
And some of it made sense,
but a lot of it is
kind of like the Bible.
You know, it could be a
positive outlook on society,
or a negative. It's all
in the interpretation.
The guy at the end of that
crime and punishment book...
Did you read that?
Yeah... yeah.
He turns himself in
at the end. Why?
Because he felt bad,
and that's...
That's the whole
fucking point here.
In theory, this whole
Superman, better-than-you idea
is all good and
well, but in reality,
man's innate morals
about what's right and wrong
dictate that... that to
follow such a teaching
is not the path to
becoming a superior human,
but rather one that's,
uh, subhuman, you know?
I'm sorry. I didn't mean
to go on a rant there.
Actually, I think that's one
of the most intelligent things
I've heard all night.
All right.
I'll buy that.
You know, 6 months is
a, uh, a mighty long time.
Mm. Ha ha.
Aw... I should get back down.
No worries.
Cool.
Fuck.
No worries.
I like that.
She'll be back.
See, the key to a proper
hanging is the proper drop.
And should, if done correctly,
instantly snap the spinal cord.
And if done incorrectly?
Well, 2 possibilities.
One, if the drop is too short,
the person dies a slow,
painful death by asphyxiation.
Aah!
And the other?
Instant decapitation.
Impossible, man. Clean off?
It's all about tensile
strength, my friend.
Whiskey dick.
Shit.
What?
What did you do to skyles?
What the hell are
you talking about?
He just stormed out
of here all pissed off.
Well, I didn't do anything.
Really? Well, you were
the last one to see him.
What happened? What?
He tried to kiss me
and I said no.
Uh-huh. End of story.
But who led him on?
I can't believe this.
We're not having
this conversation.
And where is Jim, anyway?
This is ridiculous.
It's not even worth
sticking around anymore.
You want to leave?
Fine! Fucking leave.
I just thought that since I
went through all the trouble
of convincing my uncle
to give up his amazing pad
for your lousy boyfriend's
freaking going-away party,
that the least you could do
was pretend to try
and have a goddamn
zippity-do good time.
You know what? That's
it. I'm fucking out of here.
By all means.
Let me get your coat.
Hal, do me a favor.
Just Chuck that for me.
You know what?
Don't fucking bother.
No, no, no. House rules. I'm
going to walk you out. Let's go.
And Callie, sweetheart,
drink your wine.
I think he's lost his mind.
You know what? I'll just
be so fucking happy
to get rid of you, believe me.
This is so big of you,
Nick. Yeah, yeah.
I think I have
some party favors,
and it's about time for them.
Is this yours?
Yes. It's mine. Great.
Some buds. It's good shit, girl.
No. I think you're better off.
You and Jim deserve
each other. You know that?
Are you kidding me?
I'm on fire, man.
All I needed was just a little
more of your time. That's it.
Are you s... I don't think
you should have some, Terry.
It's the fucking kind bud,
you know what I'm saying?
I don't think... really,
you've had enough.
Oh, fuck!
Oh, shit! Nicky!
Nicky! Guys!
Not the bong. Fuck.
We have a problem!
Terry... My god.
Fuck. Fuck!
What happened?
Come here, pal.
Grab him with me.
Careful! Wake up, man, wake up!
Come on. Come on, wake up.
No, no, not this one.
The other one.
Why, why?
He has to puke.
He bloody needs a toilet
that's going to work.
Callie, what else did he take?
Uh, just booze and weed.
I-i... maybe there was coke.
I have no fucking idea.
Come on, Terry, come on, Terry.
Watch his head.
Out of the way.
Out of the way.
Come on, kid.
Come on, Terry.
Come on!
Don't you nod out on me
now, man. Come on, let's go!
Give me a sign.
Give me a sign.
I just... I think I need... I'm sorry,
I-I need water or something. I...
Come on, pal. Come on!
You know what? Let's just
get you out of here, huh?
You're only going
to make things worse.
Ok.
Besides, I need to use
your phone, anyway.
You know what?
Um, I think that I'm...
I'm just going
to go home because...
Now she wants a drink.
You know, um,
because, um, I really
don't want to be here
when the paramedics arrive.
My dad gets, you know, really...
You know, you really
fucked things up tonight.
I mean, arriving
unannounced was one thing,
but then to not have the
goddamn common courtesy to drink
the goddamn drink that
you goddamn asked me for.
Um, I-I wasn't thirsty, man.
Well, then you shouldn't
have asked for it,
now, should you have?
I'll get you another
bottle, all right?
Oh, Callie, Callie, Callie,
it's not about the wine.
It's about the plan. And
let me tell you, sister,
you really, really
fucked up the plan.
My dad's got
a whole cabinet full.
But it's ok. It's ok, right?
Because I am a...
A professional!
Right?
Yeah.
It's good stuff he's got.
I said I'm a professional,
right?
Yes. Yes, you're a professional.
And what's the key to
being a good professional?
Um... I don't...
I don't know.
Improvisation.
Being able to think
on your feet.
Getting a basketful of lemons,
and making lemonade.
Gotta get your carbs.
Ya da da vivere
Come on!
Come on!
Ciao Bella! Bellisimo!
Wake up!
Wake the fuck up!
Nick, call an ambulance!
Vivere
Nicky, where are you?
Nick! Nick!
Call 911! Nick!
Nick, what're you doing?
Get in here!
Ya da da vivere
Nick, answer me!
Nicky!
Hey, Nick, where are you?
Call somebody!
Nicky, answer me!
That's improvisation.
Nick! Nick!
You really should've
had that wine.
Come on. Come on.
Give me a sign. Jesus.
Come on, wake up, kid.
Uhh!
What the...
ah do do do do
where the fuck were you? I was
screaming my ass off back there.
I ran down to use
Callie's phone.
And did you call 911?
They're on their way.
Right. Just like Jim,
huh? Be here any minute?
Where are you going
with all this?
Uh, let me see. My... my
boyfriend is missing,
Terry is back there in the
bathroom fucking dying,
and everyone else is
suddenly disappearing.
Oh, oh, and to top it all off,
I found a little problem
with your phone, here, Nick.
There are no fucking batteries.
My... my clever girl.
What the hell have
you done, Nicky?
Where's Jim?
That other girl...
Callie... where is she?
All this because the lousy phone
doesn't have any lousy batteries?
No. All of this because
you were on a conversation
on that lousy fucking phone
without any lousy
fucking batteries, Nick!
You're just putting on
a show, Nick.
Kid's toast.
Well, you can't say Nancy
Reagan never warned him.
I interrupt something?
Man, it's gotten
awful quiet in here.
Not at all.
Just Jordan is pointing out
the fact that the lousy phone
doesn't have
any lousy batteries.
You don't say.
Oh, I do.
I don't know what the
fuck is going on here.
But I-I think I'm just...
I'm just going
to go, ok? Just...
Hey, hey, hey, come on.
I was just fooling
around, really.
Come on. You know
me. This is ridiculous.
I'm ever the buffoon.
I was just horsing around.
Let's just give Jim one
more call before you go.
Just out of my way, ok?
But you've been dying
to talk to him all night.
We need to get Terry
some help, Nicky.
Help for what?
He's dead!
Isn't that right, hal?
Uh, you could stick
a fork in him.
What our priority is now is Jim.
I mean, this is his party,
after all.
So, what we're going to do
is give him one last ring.
Ah. Here we go.
Fuck.
You fucker.
God... fucker.
I fucking knew it, man.
It was so... it was
a shot in the dark,
but, damn, I'm good.
You fucking knew the whole time,
and you didn't say anything,
you fucking freak?
You know, I mean, the
date fit. May 21, right?
It wasn't until Johnny rotten
threw me into the
damn thing that I knew.
Almost busted my shoulder.
Fucking box didn't
even budge, right?
Way too heavy.
Unless, of course...
Something be
weighing it down, huh?
Bravo!
Bravo.
To the Victor goes the spoils.
Ah, not so fast, my friend.
Why don't you
double-check that hat?
You're sick.
You both are fucking sick!
Well, I'll be damned, man.
Dancing with the wire
out in the open, huh?
Hiding in plain sight. Isn't that
what you always taught us, hal?
Never let me down, Nick.
I believe that, uh,
makes it a draw.
Duel to the death at 10 paces?
That would be nice. The only
problem is that I only have one gun.
Hey.
How long after
I left the bar, huh?
How long does it take one man
to finish off a bottle of Tequila?
To friends. To you. To... hey.
Don't ever forget me.
Down the hatch.
All right, man. Ok.
Mmm!
Whoo!
Get some more. Hurry!
Yeah.
Hey, bartender, let's
get some more whiskey!
No, no, no, no.
My treat.
Hey, buddy, come on down.
Give me another
seltzer and water.
So, who's getting the
ass-end of the hog, here?
Just get me the fucking drinks.
Coming at you, bud.
Oh, jeez!
Let the party begin, jimbo!
Ahh.
Beers it is.
Thank you.
I used to crawl in this
thing as a kid, man.
See if I still fit in here.
Bet you a dollar
you can't fit in there.
A dollar? Man.
Whew.
I want to get in. I want
to see what it looks like.
Hold your horses, there, jimbo.
It's your night, and it's
going to be a long one.
Come on. Let me
in, man! Let me in!
Trippy, right?
You're not going
to saw me in half,
are you?
I think maybe we
should bring some girls
down in here later. What
do you think about that?
Yeah. You could bring,
uh, you could bring Jordan.
Hey, uh, the lid's
stuck or something, man.
I'll be right back!
Nick, where'd you go?
What're you doing?
Nick!
Nick!
God damn, Nick!
Man, let me out of here!
It's all part of the fun, bud.
Holy shit. What the...
Nick, what're you doing?
God damn, I'm going
to kick your fucking ass
if you don't open
this door right now, man.
What's that?
Look, you little pussy,
open the fucking door right now!
Ahh.
Open the fucking door!
What're you doing?
Nick! God damn it!
Shit!
Nick!
Nick!
God damn you, man!
Fuck you!
Hello?
Fuck you, man.
Fuck! No.
God damn it! Let me
out, man! Fuck! Please!
God damn it!
God damn it! Fuck!
Fuck!
Fucker, let me the fuck out!
Fuck!
Nick...
Nick! Nick! Nick!
You know, I probably
should've taken that phone out
to begin with.
But then again, I
needed the style points.
So, all of this
is because of me?
Don't flatter yourself,
sweetheart, huh?
You think I went through all
the trouble of killing 10 people
just because I still
got a hard-on
for her scrawny ass? You killed everyone?
Of course, everyone!
Even Mary and Walt.
These people were
your fucking friends, Nick.
We were all your friends, Nicky.
They were human beings.
They had fucking families.
People who loved them. People
who are going to fucking miss them.
Why? Why, Nicky?
Because my... my daddy
didn't love me.
Ah, jiminy Christmas.
What is wrong with you people?
Because daddy didn't love me?
'Cause mom left me
on the tit too long?
Ol' pastor Pete, he touched
my pecker when I was 8?
Blah, blah, blah, blah.
Why? Why? Why? Why did the quick
brown fox jump over that lazy dog, huh?
You people with all your whys,
you think you think you can
make sense of every
sick thing that goes on
in this world with one
or 2 little whys,
so somehow you can
sleep better at night.
Why does evil Nicky do
the crazy things he does?
Maybe it's the TV.
Or the satanic vampire cults
or the goddamn Internet.
Well, let me tell you,
sweetheart,
that's just a little...
Too goddamn convenient
for this psychopath.
Because he could.
What the fuck is that
supposed to mean?
The quick brown fox
jumped over the lazy dog
because he could.
He was better than them.
Better? The best!
Oh, I don't play guitar,
or write for rolling stone,
or dunk a basketball,
or throw a decent left hook,
but I definitely,
and I mean definitely,
showed tonight
there is one thing
that I can do better
than anyone else.
That's why I'm the best,
because I got the brains
and the balls.
Granted, I see the beauty
in your work here, Nick.
You know, 10 people dead
without anyone saying a word.
I mean, it's downright
impressive.
I imagine I'm gonna be
teaching it real soon.
So don't get me wrong,
pal, when I say
that you're one
crazy motherfucker,
and they're gonna fry your ass.
Not part of the plan.
But you are.
You see, you got the whys
coming out the ying-Yang, professor.
You're the outsider.
You're the one who's
devoted his entire life
to the morbid pursuit
of the art of murder.
Go on. Left jacket pocket.
Left jacket pocket.
And you, partner? Huh?
I'm just gonna be the hero
who took you down
and escaped alive.
No! No, no, no!
Why don't you join
the party, Jordan, huh?
Why don't you come
join the party?
You know, f-for a big brain,
Nicky, you're awfully fuckin' stupid.
I'm smart enough to beat you.
Beat?
Ha! Shit, boy, did you ever stop
for fucking one goddamn minute
and take a good arm's-length
look at the fuckin' situation, huh?
You're nothing
but a shill, my friend.
A little experiment that
I've privately undertaken
that I readily admit's
gone a wee bit wrong.
Right? Question.
How much bullshit
do I have to fill
an over-intelligent yet fucking
emotionally retarded kid's head with
before he steps,
or in this case leaps,
with both feet out of the
kitchen sink over the edge?
Evidently, not fucking much.
Just whisper fucking
sweet nothings
of murder and mayhem
into his ear,
and 3 semesters later, he's got his
best friend stuffed into a box, man.
Jesus, kid, wake the fuck up!
You're not in control here!
I am! Always have been!
In case you haven't
noticed, Mr. Milgrim,
I'm the one with the gun.
Yeah? So fuckin' shoot.
Fuck.
Hey, what's that
old sayin', huh?
Bring a gun to a knife fight?
Run! Jordan, get
the fuck out of here!
Nowhere to go, guys!
Fuck.
Let me in. Right.
Just get us in the mood!
Well, who else do you
think I'm talking to?
Look, lady, right now,
right here and right now,
let's get something
straight, ok?
In case you haven't noticed,
that crazy fuck out there has a gun,
and I... we don't!
Hey, just look around
for a weapon wi...
Look around for a real weapon.
Hey, would anyone
like a bong hit?
Come on, all the kids
are doin' it!
Wake up, Leigh!
Hal, you haven't started
without me, have you?
Huh? Hal!
Have you started
without me? Hal?
Shit. Hal?
God. Aah!
Hal? Hal?
Put that in your dissertation.
Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!
Here, kitty, kitty,
kitty, kitty!
God.
Aah!
Oh, shit!
No!
Ah, that's right, Jordan
mcneil, come on down!
You're the next contestant on the
world's most popular game show,
flee for your life!
Ohh! Shit!
Somebody get the number
on that truck.
Come on, Jordan!
You're not helping me any.
It's too easy, Jordan.
It's too easy.
Fuck!
Oh,
god. You can do this.
This is not part of the plan.
Women!
Open up! Open up!
Help! Help! No!
Jordan, Somebody help me!
Somebody help me!
Nice.
Please, anyone!
Help!
Help! Help!
You're starting to become
a real pain in the ass.
My, my.
Very clever, Jordan.
Very clever girl.
In for 2?
Jordan!
You're killing me, Jordan.
Don't you want me
to finish anything?
Fuck!
They'll fucking catch you.
That is all part of the fun.
Being up against the
best and brightest
the f.B.I. Has to offer.
I mean, shoot.
They might even have
to get Johnny d.,
the mind hunter himself,
out of retirement.
Relax.
This shouldn't hurt.
Well, maybe just a little.
Fuck you.
It's my lucky day.
One shot left.
Aah!
Fuck Nietzsche.
Goddamn genuine,
modern-day alchemist, baby.
Ain't nothing
gonna break me down.
Know what I'm saying?
Did you see that shit
I did, man?
Did you see that?
I fuckin' kung-fu'd
his ass and shit.
I never did like him
anyway, man.
He used to stare
at my ass and shit.
You know what I'm sayin'?
I kicked that fucker's ass!
You did good, too,
though, you know?
Thank you.
Thank you very much.
I give you props.
That was real sexy,
what you were doing.
This is some good weed,
too, right?
Hell of a party, huh?
Yeah. Ain't that the truth.
I kicked some ass. You
know what I'm sayin'?
You didn't do so bad yourself.
Thank you.
Again.
Speaking of asses, though,
you know, I wanted to tell you,
you have a really sweet ass.
Guess we have to find
some new friends now, huh?
Are you kidding me?
I'm never dating again.
Does that mean casual
sex is out of the question?
Yeah. Right.
Come on.
I had to ask.
Hey, baby, what ya
doin' tonight
sugar?
I hope you call
when it's all right
well, I got this
certain case of blues
and if I see
your smiling face
I know it will diffuse
hey, baby,
how's about a cruise?
We can go
any place you choose
well, I've heard
Mulholland's fine,
we'll take the view
and drink some wine
so, hey
what you doin' tonight?
What you doin', baby?
lions gate entertainment
Knock-a-no!
No!
No!
Metro needs 2 units on flamingo.
Copy that.
Agents inside the tape,
stand by for a search out.
Well, a perfect
crime scene, or so it seemed,
until Vegas Metro and their esteemed
detectives contaminated the structure
with their misguided diligence.
The quick brown fox
was nowhere to be found.
Now, when the f.B.I.
Finally made an appearance,
the fox was long gone,
without a trace
of admissible evidence.
Drinks before the party, man?
Sure.
2 down, with 11 more to go.
The quick brown fox
went on to terrorize
the southwest
for the next 3 years.
When asked why he did it...
The fox replied...
I take your point, Nick,
but clearly
it's the consistency
has to be admired more.
It's not about body count,
man, it's about how long
you can continue
without losing your edge.
Or your mind.
Precisely.
In short, there's vastly more
skill involved in serial killing.
You know what?
You're doin' it again.
You're pigeonholing
all mass murderers
into this homogenous group of
spur-of-the-moment thrill killers.
I'm saying that if, and only if,
one wanted to pull off
a mass murder,
the chances of gettin'
away with it
would be far less than that
of your average serial killer.
Well, thus, you know,
it's by far a much more
difficult and impressive feat
to kill a group of people
without "a," getting
killed yourself,
or "b," getting caught,
tried, and most certainly fried.
And that, my friend, is the crown
Jewel of macabre accomplishment.
But you're forgetting
the golden rule.
Murder is qualitative,
not quantitative.
I mean, it's the style that's
remembered, man, not the body count.
So, this guy was on the
loose for 8 years, huh?
8 years. They caught him
at a fucking traffic stop.
That's the problem
with these guys.
They don't have any planning.
I mean, to... to...
To do this thing,
you need to have a plan.
You need to be... to be...
Hey! Whoa!
Whoa, woman.
Fancy meeting you here.
What's up, baby?
Hey, Nicky.
Yo, man, so what time's
this gig kickin' off tonight?
8:00, 8:30.
How you doin', Nicky?
I'm doin' just fine.
Come on, darlin'.
Excuse me, guys. Hey, manners.
I guess tonight's the last
they're gonna see
of each other, huh?
He's flying out
tomorrow afternoon.
So, you two cool
nowadays? You and, uh...
What's not to be cool about?
You cool, though?
Fine. All right.
So, what's on the agenda
for our last night
of collegiate bliss?
Nick and I are supposed
to grab some cocktails
with Evans, our, uh,
psych professor.
You wanna go?
Hmm. No. You... you
fellas go do your fella thing.
Just give me a call later.
If not, I guess I'll just
meet you at the party.
All right.
Ooh, look-it.
Check... check...
Check... check out his eyes.
Oh, what up?
He's a little killer,
you can just tell.
Hey, jackass!
You smack my baby again,
you'll never see another sunrise.
Success.
Glad to see we didn't
die of thirst, gentlemen.
Don't you understand
that's the beauty of it?
That's the art.
The art of all art. Yes, indeedy.
In medium of flesh and bone.
I was just thinking
that if one was to go
through with the whole
killing thing,
at least have the common decency
to kill the right
goddamn people.
If you're gonna step up
to the plate
and start taking
some people out,
I mean, at least put some
effort into choosing your victims.
Prostitutes and homeless?
Where is the challenge in that?
I dig it, man.
You know, I think
I'd start with, like, uh,
like, airline executives or, uh,
fucking, uh, cigarette
manufacturers
or, like, uh, like,
meter maids, man.
Traffic cops.
Lawyers.
Fuckin' tax men.
Poli-fuckin'-ticians, man.
Used car dealers.
Cab drivers.
Dentists. Stock brokers.
Fuckin' lawyers. Wait,
did somebody say lawyers?
Yeah, I believe so.
Fuckers. I'm killin' 'em again.
Forty-niners fans.
Umpires. Talk show hosts.
Black Jack dealers. Boy bands.
Women sports announcers, man.
Americans. Just wipe out
the whole country.
How about mimes?
Fuckin' mimes!
Th-there's so much
to choose from.
I mean, how does one decide
where the axe is gonna fall?
That is the question, isn't it?
I'm headin' out, man.
Wait, wait, wait. You're
forgettin' something.
It's not mine, pal.
Let's go, man.
There you go.
Once again, man,
the art of murder.
What else is he supposed
to talk about?
The guy's still a freak.
Without a doubt.
But you've gotta admit, he's
one goddamn entertaining freak.
The other day, he was telling
me about one of his favorite films,
by Hitchcock, called
rope. Have you seen it?
Yeah, it's the... the
one-take film.
Anyways, it was
originally this play
loosely based on the
Leopold and loeb murders
about these couple
of queers that end up
killing their buddy just
for the thrill of it.
Make things more complicated,
after they waste him,
they stuff his body
in this huge chest, and they
throw a party. Party of all parties.
They put this thing dead-smack
in the center of the room.
They even invite
the guy's parents.
I mean, Christ, these
guys waste this guy,
put him in a fuckin' chest,
and then they serve hors
d'oeuvres over his cold, dead body.
It's masterful.
Precisely.
Well, shit, man, what
time's my party start?
I'd say as far as you and I
are concerned, it already has.
Tonight's the night.
Wouldn't have it any other way.
What the fuck is that?
What it be! What
it be! What it be!
Let me get some bitches.
Let me in this place.
Come on.
Come on.
What up? What up? What up?
You tell me, bud.
You're a half hour
early, my man.
Ah, I was in the neighborhood.
Besides, I figured
I'd stake out some territory.
Any good talent coming tonight?
Just the usual suspects.
Cricket, Leigh, Jordan.
Shit. If Jimmy don't show,
jordo's fair game.
My sentiments exactly.
Hmm. Nice selection
of cocktails.
Funky mood lighting.
Thought-provoking tunes.
Do I have your seal of approval?
All depends what you
can match up with this.
Sha-dink!
The big green buds.
You know, I think
I just might have
something to meet your needs.
Hey, beauty chest, man.
Yeah. I'm kinda partial
to it myself.
Listen, I'll be right back.
Don't touch anything.
Crush the weed, crush
the weed, crush the weed
Unh!
7:30.
7-fucking-30.
Oh!
Wabbit season.
Ay, carumba.
Weapon of choice.
Not bad.
Not bad at all.
You pack it.
Damn man.
Plastic surgery must be treating
your uncle Atticus good.
When's he getting back?
Never.
Any bitches out there?
Nick's pleasure palace
of pain and worship.
What's the secret
pass code, please?
Wow. I didn't realize.
Do I need an appointment
or can you take me as a walk-in?
I could take her as a walk-in.
Watch that ass, pal.
No, no!
Knock-a-Noh.
Evening, gentlemen.
No.
How do?
Loverly, thank you.
Beverage?
Lead the way.
I will, and be careful tonight.
Uncle Atticus
is remodeling yet again.
Not a problem.
It's amazing.
These pieces
are all museum quality.
He's got from
Jakarta, India, Tibet.
You name it, he's got it.
Open the door, clunk!
Whiskey d.
Honored friends.
Come on.
Your guests of dishonor
have arrived.
Open the door!
Oh, I take it Terry has arrived.
Yeah.
What the deal? What
the deal? What the deal?
Whiskey dick is officially
in the house.
Hey, you got any
food up in there?
Open the door. You're smashing my face.
Fuck that.
Open the door.
Yo, what the fuck?
Give us some
xena, skeletor shit.
What's on the agenda first?
Girlfriend, you
really should eat more.
You look a little pale.Welcome.
Hey, this is so nice...
Hey! Hey! Easy!
Easy! Easy!
Let me take that
away from you, baby.
It look like a man
could be hurt up in here.
Terry, what's up?
What's up?
T. Boogie.
Glad you made it.
What's up, baby?
Hey, skyles.
My man,
Nick-a-ricka. What's up, baby?
Rockin' good.
Brought your gee-tars, huh?
Oh, yeah.
Gonna do some jammin'?
I think we can
probably work that in.
Check these out.
Is there any predators
in here, man?
I was wantin' a piranha,
but I didn't see none.
You ever seen sea urchins fuck?
No. Yeah.
I'd like to, though.
It's a sight to behold, man.
I got a couple at home
and a freshwater barracuda, too.
You see... did you ever sp...
What? Did you ever spank to it?
Spank to my barracuda?
Jesus, Nicky, your uncle Atticus
is a crazy, hardius
fuckin' freak.
What's that baby?
The place is phat?
Yeah. He certainly
was eccentric.
I tell ya, I am so glad
that you guys could make it.
Ah, guys, girl.
Girl, guys.
Oh, well, thank you.
Thank you
for the refresher course.
She... she's got the breasts.
Just make yourself at home.
Listen, I got...
I got cocktails to the left,
bong hits to the right,
whips and chains in the back,
and on the roof,
well, I'll tell you
about that later.
B-Bong hits.
Where's the bong hits?
Over here.
Bong hits. Yeah.
Kid here yet?
No, not yet.
He sh... he should be
here soon, though.
Well, what's keeping him up?
Skyles.
So, did you and Nicky ever, uh,
wa-haa! You're so fucking bad!
Come on.
It's not like I'm
your fucking priest.
Not even one drunk, sloppy fuck
in the back of that '72 blazer?
Oh, my god. No.
You know, we just didn't
have that connection.
I dig it.
Nick can be a pretty
fuckin' strange cat at times.
Yes.
Just remember, bro,
it's all about perspective.
You see, uncle Atticus
always told me,
it's not about chopping
people up,
it's about holding the power
of life and death
over your fellow man.
So far as your
grad school query goes,
let's just say I felt
the institution
had very little left to offer.
Left to offer?
You were 20 credits away
from the end of
6 years of torture.
6, 7, kind of lose track
after a while.
But, you got, what,
a buck-60 I.Q.,
you speak 4 languages fluently,
and, still, you're the
only motherfucker I know
that does not want a degree.
Are you trying to analyze me,
professor plum?
I mean, we are in the study.
No, man.
It's just obvious.
Between all the weed,
the booze, and the pills
you've consumed
over the years, dude,
I'm surprised
you're still walking the earth.
Surprise nothing, man.
I'm a goddamn genuine,
modern-day alchemist.
Is that right?
My body's a fine-tuned machine
running on caffeine, nicotine,
t.h.c., I.S.D.,
and chef boyardee.
Ain't nothin'
gonna break me down, fool.
That's right.
Remember that one time
you scarfed down 2 hits of acid
and decided to run the New
York City marathon the next day?
Shit. When was this?
Days of my youth when I was
freelancing for rolling stone.
Uh-huh. Dr. Larry over
here, uh, snuck on the course
and crossed
in just under 4 hours.
Bullshit.
Uh-uh. Tell him what
you did when you finished.
Went to the nearest pub
and grabbed me a heine.
Oh, thank you.
Man, I haven't heard from Jimmy
all afternoon, that little shit.
Oh, he stiffed me
at dinner, too.
All I got was a page that
said he couldn't make it.
Maybe he's tying up
all his loose ends, you know?
Change of address,
getting the gas shut off,
breaking the news
to his favorite hooker.
Mm-hmm.
You know, that sort of thing.
Nice, Terry.
Oh, fuck!
Oh, shit. You probably
put that in the back.
Yeah. If I'm spillin' shit now,
wait till I really
start drinking, huh?
Piss off.
Ha! And
don't even say it.
Look. Here, light me up.
I've known you since we were,
oh, what, man, this high?
Yup.
And as far as I can remember,
you never stuck around
for the final act, man.
Sports, academics, women. Huh?
I mean, face it.
When it gets close to the
end, Nick always bounces.
You know what?
That may be true,
but, in my defense,
I would just like to say
that life is about the
journey, not the reward.
Touche. I feel you.
But let's get
one thing straight.
Your over educated,
under-motivated,
scrawny, little toothpick ass
shows up at my site,
I'll be damned
if I giving it a job.
Under-motivated? Um-hmm.
Huh? Did you know
that it only takes
this much pressure
to cut human skin?
Uncle Atticus says
it's a perfect match.
Damn it, Nicky!
Uncool. Fucking uncool.
Shit!
What are you doing
in here, cricket?
I was looking for a
place to hang this,
but there aren't
any fucking hangers.
We have a gig tomorrow.
I don't want this
to get messed up.
Well, maybe you should've
asked me first, huh?
You know what, Nicky?
It's not like I'm
gonna steal nothing, ok?
You know what?
You're right.
I'm really sorry.
It's just... you know, my
uncle is just really stiff.
You know, he's
just really stiff.
It's all good.
Take care of this.
Nice ring.Ah.
All right.
Rockin' good.
Since we're all here,
I'm gonna jam out
this little ditty I've
been working on
about cricket's mother.
No.
No.
That stuff is bullshit.
All right.
Son of a bitch, man!
Oh!
That's the end
of this instrument.
Yeah. Rhythm tonight,
you know, rhythm...
Rhythm, drums, cello, harp.
Bring it on, man.
Hey, let me, uh,
let me toss that for you.
Take it. Toss it.
Love it. Live it.
Yo. Terry. Terry, get the door.
No, no. Wait!
Wait! Wait!
It may be Jimmy.
Let's hide.
Man, what's the point?
He already knows we're here.
Well, no.
If we hide and then
jump him, that'll be cool.
So, what's the call?
Do we surprise him or jump him?
Both!
Both! Yeah!
All right.
Hey, somebody get the lights.
Get against the wall!
Surprise, bitch!
Baby!
Nobody move.
Nobody gets hurt, scum bite.
Spread 'em!
Spread 'em!
Any needles, razorblades, drugs?
Psst. Terry.
Wingtips, Jim?
I know you're a businessman
and all, but wingtips?
Terry!
Oh, hey, Mr. Franklin.
What's up?
Expecting trouble
tonight, sport?
You know security's tight
these days,
republican white house and all.
Come on in.
Know what I'm talking 'bout?
Hey, let me get
your coat for you.
I'll hold this.
Glad you made it.
Everyone, this is Jim's aunt
and uncle, Mary and Walter.
Hey, loser.
What's up?
You're looking a little
suspicious yourself.
I might have to search you.
You know what I'm saying?
Nice try.
What are you doing?
What are you doing?
She's like 13.
What are you doing?
And?
Jim isn't here yet, is he?
No, but he should
pop up any minute.
He's probably at a strip club.
That's what I said.
Jordan.
Hi.
It's so good to see you.
Oh, it's so good
to see you, too, Mary.
You look fantastic.
Thanks.
All right, if I'm gonna wait, I
don't wanna do it empty-handed.
And what is your pleasure, sir?
Lead the way, son.
Oh, I have some
friends I want you to meet.
Hello there. Garrett.
This is Mary. Nice to meet you.
Jimmy's aunt. I am going to...
I didn't think you
were going to come.
I'm here, aren't I?
You sure are.
Glass of wine? All right.
That... is for your aunt.
Oh, Jesus.
It's not for you.
Yeah, right.
I don't know.
It's cool.
He'll be back in 6 months
when the training is over,
and I guess we'll just
see what happens.
What if they offer him a
full-time position after that?
Well, um...
I suppose we'll
just deal with that
when and if the time comes.
Are you referring to the company
offering him a
full-time position,
or someone else?
Oh, easy, girl.
What?
I mean, I'm just
exploring the obvious.
He is a man, after all.
I mean...
4 months of hand jobs,
and that full-time position
might be missionary
in the back of some Mary
Kay girl's pink Cadillac.
You know, he's not
gonna be alone
the whole time, Leigh.
Exactly my point.
Anyway, Mary...
We're gonna alternate
visits every other month
and, uh, I'm reasonably sure
that he can live
without me for that long.
So, uh...
Which one of the boys
do you claim,
if any?
Jim.
Cricket!
Jordan and I are gonna
alternate visits every month
because we know Leigh's
concerned about him.
Mmm.
Oh, he'd be flattered.
Now, a Martini's a nice drink
if you're some little
effete British spy
traipsing through
an alpine village.
But we are where?
We are in the united
states of america,
and we need an American drink.
You're talking about
a Manhattan.
Ah, bingo!
Yeah, but doesn't that
also have vermouth in it?
Sweet vermouth.
From Italy.
None of that French shit.
You wait for the frost
to form on your cup...
You strain it.
And you pour.
Dump it all.
Ah.
And then you add...
The most American of
American garnishes.
The cherry.
Mmm. Nothing wrong with
a little cherry.
Details, gentlemen.
Please.
Don't forget the details.
Separates the aficionados
from the masses.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Hold on there, champ.
We need a toast.
Ain't you civilized?
To Jim... In eternal bliss.
Here, here. And to his friends,
as fine a bunch of
guys as you'll ever find.
Salud.
Salud!
Smooth.
It's a rare time in
your lives, fellas.
Appreciate it.
The older you get,
the fewer tight
relationships you have.
It's inevitable.
Friends get married,
friends move away...
Hell...
Some of them even die.
Enjoy it while you got it.
Drink up.
Mmm.
Oh, come on, just one quick one.
Mary.
Please! Well, maybe just
a quick one.
Excellent! Ok.
Can you do me, too?
Sure.
Uh...
You know what?
Um...
Y'all wouldn't by any
chance have any of them, uh...
Special cigarettes, would you?
How special are
you talking about?
Anything, long as
it's not Mexican.
That Mexican dirt weed
just gives me a headache.
Damn, Leigh!
You didn't tell me
your aunt burned.
That is so fucking cool!
Yeah.
It's real cool until she raids
your stash one morning.
I wanna get high
I heard that.
So high
no habla espaol.
Let's see...
Mmm.
I wanna get high
so high
I wanna get high
So high
me and my pothead aunt.
Pardon me, gentlemen.
I'm gonna go check
on the women folks.
I believe I'll join you.
Hey, back up, bitch.
Oh, yeah, that's hydro.
Thanks for the drink, Walt.
My pleasure.
Share and share alike, girls.
That's what I always say.
Hey, baby, come here.
Groovy.
Double-fisted.
The ganja man.
Excuse me, shorty.
Damn. Ladies just gettin'
faded up in here, huh?
My nephew really values
your friendship, Nick.
Thanks, Walt.
Means a lot to me.
I sure am gonna miss him.
No, go on.
Go on, go on.
Smoke 'em if you got 'em.
I'll be in the area all day.
Oh, I got 'em.
No. Honey, I... I definitely
do not tell the future.
For if I did,
that would be denying free will,
and I, for one,
believe that we control
our own personal destinies.
The images act as catalysts
that evoke, or rather,
unlock the doors
to... to each of your psyches...
Allowing brief glimpses
on the potential,
hidden, or even repressed...
Selves within.
And...
Oh!
Oh!
My man, the fool!
The horny diablo.
Wild, wild, wild ride
for this young man.
Up and down, feast and famine.
But the cards definitely
favor you making a go.
Mmm, that's right.
I'm always one step
ahead of the reaper.
The reaper!
Let's see what you got, boy!
Steppin' in. Let's see.
Ok.
New man on deck.
Hey, I bet you
he gets the fool, too.
That would be some funny shit.
Ok.
What you gonna get?
What you gonna get?
Ah. Oh! Ooh.
Whoa!
The horny diablo!
Terry, Wah... Wah... Wah!
No, no, no, no, no.
Like I said!
You have to look
at all the symbols.
It's never about just one card.
I have always had a
feeling about you, Nick.
Fame.
It's fame?
And lots of it.
Really? Well, that is, if
he can ever finish anything.
Fame and fortune
are definitely what I see.
Is there anything else?
I think I see a bong hit.
I see another bag of
buds and some booze.
Does anyone know
what time it is?
It's about, uh, 9:30.
Jim was supposed to be here
over, like, a...
An hour ago, wasn't he?
Maybe, Jordan, he just
picked up that stripper.
What if he got in a wreck?
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
You're getting way
ahead of yourself.
Now, this boy's
running just a little late.
Anyways, what about
his... his new cell, you know?
Honey, that is a good idea.
May I use the phone?
Kids. I hope they
don't break anything.
Seems like everyone's all
wired together these days.
Miracles of technology.
I just never can keep up.
Give me a rotary and I'm happy.
I just hope
everything's all right.
Where'd he get the cell phone?
A graduation present.
I forgot he even had it.
That's the most
analog motherfucker
Mmm.
Oh.
Where is that number?
Oh!
I'm sorry, Mary.
Can't be too careful
with that lot out there.
Oh!
Oh.
Oh.
Hey.
Yo, damn, son.
Excuse me would be nice.
No. Voicemail, email...
Shit.
10 to one he doesn't answer.
Ah, sucker's bet.
What you putting on, boy?
You know, when the
mood hits ya, it hits ya.
Ah. There you are.
Let's groove.
Get your groove
thing goin', boy!
Yeah, come on.
Yeah, here we go.
Mmm.
Do you hear that?
Hmm.
I think I hear the beginnings
of a good song.
No, no, it's like a...
Like a buzzing or a
ringing or something.
I don't know, I don't hear it.
I hear madness, though.
Yeah!so you come off the streets
I don't hear it
anymore. Oh, well.
Feel the heat
Hello, you've reached Jim,
and I'm currently
tied up right now,
unable to get to my phone.
Please leave your...
To the rockingest
rock steady beat
of madness
one step beyond
This is
here we go, here we go
one step beyond
Whoo hoo!
One step beyond
One step beyond
soul to soul
nation to nation
madness is a mutual
appreciation
one step beyond
Whoo!
What's the word, Ms. Franklin?
Voicemail.
What did I tell you?
I bet you he's currently
lying horizontally somewhere,
if you know what I mean.
I wouldn't exactly
say horizontally.
Terry, my friend...
If you would get our coats.
Nick...
You have to go so soon?
Well, it's well
past our bedtime.
Yes, and communing
with the spirits
takes a toll on Mary...
Not to mention the hooch.
Watch it, old timer.
Whoa!
Don't go falling down
on us just yet, Walter.
You sweet thing.
Thank you for having us.
And, uh, your uncle has
a wonderful place here.
Please give him
our best regards.
I will.
By the way, Nick,
how is the dear doctor?
We haven't seen him
in quite a while.
You know, he hasn't been
feeling very social lately.
Tell the truth, he rarely
leaves the house these days.
Really? Where is he right now?
Finally.
The boy has a classic
sense of timing.
Surprise!
Who the fuck is that?
Damn, hal, what did
you do, run up the steps?
Rough evening, huh?
You look like one man
who could use a drink.
You have no idea.
Mr. and Mrs. Franklin,
everyone, this is hal Evans,
one of Jim's and my old
criminal psych professors.
Don't let the poor schlep's
appearance fool you, though.
He actually is fairly harmless.
Go in, have a good time.
Skyles. Evans.
Don't worry, baby.
We'll have lunch with him
tomorrow before the flight.
Hmm?
Walter...
Hey, Walt...
What came after slim...
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Where's the fire?
My aunt left her magic plastic.
Well, Leigh, it's nearly 10:00.
I reckon she's not doing
any more readings.
I know. She just...
Freaks out when she
doesn't have them.
She thinks it's bad
luck or something.
Ah.
They're probably down
in the garage by now.
Yeah.
Besides, you know,
I was thinking that,
well...
I'd rather that you
stuck around.
Stuck around, huh?
The thought crossed my mind.
Mine, too.
Good.
Come on, let's meet Evans.
The guy's a fuckin' trip.
Only one guess, and you
will be judged on style.
And now what does
the winner get?
If it's you, one night with me.
Anyone else, a shot of Tequila.
And a complimentary
pair of these!
I believe they're a small "c".
Uh, what exactly is
the object of this game?
Where's Jim?
He's not here yet.
No, stupid, that's
the object of the game.
We're trying to figure out
where the kid is right now.
Instead of here?
Well, just wherever
you might think he is.
I mean, we're gonna Chuck
names into a hat,
pick from it,
and when the kid shows up,
we see who nails it.
What if there's, like,
2 winners, you know?
Let's say, uh...
He's at the titty bar
and the whorehouse?
No!
Shit! Oh, come on!
Come on, man, it's
a legitimate question.
What the fuck.
All right, house rules, then.
All draws will be
settled by a duel
to the death at 10 paces.
Vote away.
I don't know,
I think I got it.
Go easy.
I'm gonna win.
Man and beast...
Blood and sand...
Cheered on by tousands...
Within a sacred circle.
Now... that's what
bullfighting's all about.
That's what I'm talkin' about.
To us and.
Don't give me any of this
romantic Hemingway crap.
It's fuckin' barbaric
and cruel, man.
End of story.
That's because you fail to
see the beauty within, man.
Within what?
Within the dance...
The dance with death.
Come on, that's what
the audience pays to see.
That's what they come
to vicariously feel.
They want to be that matador...
Who not only faces the
possibility of his own demise,
but also is one who is about
to impose a mortal sentence
upon the beast
at any given moment
with one fatal
plunge of his foil.
So the object is
to just kill the thing
like a modern-day
gladiator match.
Yeah, if you consider
6 against one fair.
These guys...
Ride into the arena
on their horses.
Crowd's going crazy.
Everybody's happy.
And then they, uh...
Then they...
Then they stab the bull
in the neck,
and then they jab these
spear things into its back.
Bandillero.
What the fuck are you,
Irish or Spanish?
Suck my fucking cock.
Whatever. The fact is
that then and only then,
after they've run the thing
ragged and bleeding
do they let the, uh, the brave
seor back into the arena
to come in and finish him off.
No, man, no, no, no.
Well, yes, all right?
But no. I mean, the
whole point of the festival
is that the matador first
has to put on a show.
Anyone can just slaughter
the goddamn things.
The greatest roars of
pleasure you'll ever hear
echoing from the arena
are those during the
setup, man, not the climax...
For brave seor's
true goal and duty
is to come as close to
fucking death as possible
without ever once...
Flinching.
So does the, uh,
matador ever get caught?
Ah, all the time.
No, every great matador
can count on getting gored
at least once in his career.
So then why do they do it?
The money.
Those cats must make
beaucoup dinero.
Not to mention
the finest seoritas
with the nice breasteses.
Again, that is a part of it,
but when you get right down to
it, they do it because it's addictive.
I mean, it's really knowing
that you have enough
skill and control
that you can dance
and flaunt and manipulate
these poor bastards
any way you want...
All for the amusement
of the crowd.
Most importantly, yourself.
This guy's
talking out of his ass.
It's all about the bitches.
You know what, professor?
What?
If I wanted to hear this crap,
I would've enrolled
in your nifty little class
over there at the university.
You know what,
enough about death. I don't give a shit
about this, man.
I came to drink some beers...
Let's make some noise,
baby, come on.
Yo, skyles.
Let it go, man. Come on.
All right, where's the guitars?
Pardon. Bust 'em out.
Where you going?
To the ladies' room.
Is that ok?
That's fine.
Would you get me a
beer while you're up?
What, no more cocktails?
It's about that time.
Evening.
Your idea with the lights?
Could say they make certain
activities more interesting.
Like...
Oh, I don't know.
Oh...
Wait a minute, wait a
minute, wait a minute.
What?
Look, look, look.
Oh.
Like I said, it makes
certain activities...
No, no, keep looking.
This is all about you.
Even with your ex-girlfriend
about 20 feet away?
Are you wondering if I'm getting
some sort of perverse
thrill from all of this?
Indeed.
No more than you're getting.
Fucking around with your
big brother's best friend.
Best friend who used
to fuck his girlfriend.
Until he stole her away.
So now, all you are left
with is little sister.
Sounds good to me.
That feels good.
Feels good, too.
Takin' candy from a baby.
Whew.
What are you doing,
dying in there?
Fuck!
Come on.
They say women take a long time.
Oh, whew.
Sorry. Terry was just in here
and we are...
Strongly suggesting everyone
to find alternative means.
What?
Well, we're currently
experiencing a plumbing problem.
Trust me, it is for
your own safety.
Oh, boy.
Um, hey, Nick,
I just wanted to thank you...
For having this party
for Jimmy and all.
It's very big of you.
That's me. Mr. Big.
Anyway, it just makes
the move apart
a little easier.
So thank you.
So, where'd you say
that bathroom was again?
Uh, down the hall to the left.
Ok.
Oh, um... Have you seen Leigh?
No, I think she took off.
Took off? What did you
and Mr. Big do to her?
Nothing.
Mm-hmm. Don't tell me
she spurned your charms?
Nothing of the sort.
But kind of you to still notice.
What is with that family?
They don't show up.
They don't say good-bye.
What a little bitch.
Oh, well, fuck him.
Bravo! Yeah, yeah, yeah!
That song never
ceases to kill me.
Oh, very impressive.
Very impressive.
Thank you very much.
You guys are all, like,
in a band, is that it?
Yeah, man.
Our name's whiskey dick.
At the moment of truth,
they always fail to perform.
Don't go projecting your
sexual inadequacies onto us.
It's just a name.
Yeah, but a name that you
hope one day will become famous.
Am I right?
Well, I'd venture to guess
that that's pretty much the
goal of any band, mister.
Whoa, take it easy. Jesus.
I wasn't trying to impugn
the level of your talent.
So get to the
fucking point, then.
Impugn?
The point is, if all you
want to be is famous,
there's a much easier
way to obtain it.
Which is?
Any guesses? Nick.
Murder.
All right. What's
the correlation here
between this freak and death?
"A", I readily concede
that I am a freak, right?
And "b"...
Death is just this particular
freak's hobby and occupation.
You're sick, dude.
I'm just observing the
facts, and the facts are,
if you wanna be famous,
it's a hell of a lot easier
by committing a great murder
than it is writing a great song.
Ok, you're just playing
around now, right?
'Cause that's stupid.
You'd rather kill a
motherfucker than sing a song?
No, no, no, hear me out.
You all might be
the greatest rock and
roll band since the doors.
Actually, I prefer
social d, myself.
Right?
Well, whatever, you
know. The bottom line is...
In your business...
Success is a good part talent
and also a good part luck.
I'll give you that. True, that.
Now, murder...
On the other hand...
One depends solely on oneself.
And then your fate is
what you make of it.
Now, I could be famous by
sunrise, if I really wanted to be.
Oh, really?
And how's that?
I'd kill everyone in this room.
How about
we all kill you instead,
then we could all be famous.
Think of all the great
murderers in history.
Better yet, think of the fact
that they're all household names.
Richard Ramirez, Ted Bundy...
Kenneth Bianchi,
Jack the ripper.
Charlie man son.
That crazy cannibal
up in Minnesota.
Is there any other
kind of cannibal?
Yeah. I kind of feel like
crazy and cannibal
go hand in hand,
up in this motherfucker.
Jeffrey dahmer's the
cannibal you speak of.
John Wayne gacy. The killer clown.
Danny rolling. The gainesville ripper.
Henry Lee Lucas. The sultan of sadism.
Aileen wournos. The black widow of
American interstates.
The son of Sam. Davy berkowitz.
Talkin' to dogs and shit.
Richard speck.
Born to raise hell.
Can't forget the juice. That fucker's
still on the loose.
The zodiac killer. Never even caught.
Green river killer
I don't think they
caught him either.
The night stalker. Hillside strangler.
Boston strangler. Bedroom basher...
Toledo clubber, gay slayer,
co-ed killer, happy face,
trail side, 22
alphabet, freeway,
killer killer killer killer!
Fuck it!
Beast of bastille,
vampire of Sacramento,
the lust killer of Atlanta,
the torso butcher of Cleveland,
and last but not least,
the axe man of New Orleans.
Any more?
Leopold and loeb.
Brilliant.
Heavy shit, man.
Funny, but heavy.
Fuck, I gotta take a piss.
What you're talking
about isn't fame.
It's called infamy.
It's one and
the same to me, pal.
Yeah? Huh.
Well, to the rest of us, uh,
civilized human beings here,
the 2 terms ain't even close.
Furthermore,
I think I've had, uh...
Just about enough of
your pseudo, psycho,
intellectual bullshit
for one evening.
There's a hell of
a lot more to life
than death, asshole.
Take it easy, pal.
You know, there's no
need to get hostile.
That wasn't hostile.
Oh, shit!
Kick his ass!
Oh, what?
All right, that's enough, baby.
Ding, ding, ding, ding.
That's... oh!
Stop, you guys!
This is fucking stupid!
My god, this is a fucking party!
Whoo!
That's him,
heavyweight champion!
Ahem.
Oh, thanks.
Yo, man, what...
Fuck, what's goin' on, man?
Dude, where were you?
What the fuck did I miss? Where you been, man?
T, did you hear that shit?
I was in the shitter, man. He was hot.
I need a whiskey,
I need a beer.
What's goin' on?
What the fuck happened?
Look at this shit.
Like all great matadors, hal...
Inevitably, you get gored.
What'd I miss? I'm going to beat
the shit out
of that fucking bastard
until he got
a cheap shot in here.
Who? Who... who? Fucking Evans, man.
Maybe these will
change your luck.
He was talking shit.
You know, about death and all.
Dude, come on.
Do you need stitches? No. We're not going
to touch it because we got
a gig tomorrow night, man.
I'm going to fucking
hit the stage, dude.
I'm going to have
this fucking cut, man.
The bitches are going to
be like aah! Skyles! Skyles!
Fitting.
This fucker does not let up,
man, about this murder shit.
He went flying over
the side of the couch.
Feel like I've been
fighting that mother...
That's all right, baby.
What's going on, guys,
is this your corner
crew or what?
And I'm sorry about Evans.
I mean, the dude
pisses people off.
Yeah. He's a real great
guy to have around.
Quite a dick.
Love him.
I love him.
Yeah, well, you know what,
you just got to get to know him.
Oh, yeah.
Th-that's on my agenda.
You ready, son?
Actually, I think
I'm going to stick around
for a bit and wait for Jimmy
to make that big appearance.
How are you getting home?
Yeah, man, I'm not
coming to pick up
your crazy ass in the morning.
That's cool, because,
uh, Jordan lives out my way.
I'll just, you know...
Yeah, boy. Hitch a little ride.
Get home
safe, all right? Yup, later.
All right, I'm going
to take you home, now.
Hey, Nicky, make sure he doesn't
do anything else stupid tonight.
Yes, man, and make sure
he gets some rest.
We have a gig tomorrow.
Know what I'm saying?
No worries. I promise, he's
going to sleep like a rock.
Good.
Come on, let's go down.
My man, it's been...
Nick!
Don't think you're going
to make that gig tomorrow.
All in a day's work.
Bob vila, eat your heart out.
Ha ha ha.
Ha ha! I knew it!
I knew it.
Little devil, trying to pull
something off like this,
without even calling me.
I mean, your music came, like,
pouring through my windows.
Nicky, I almost puked.
So, tell me,
what's the occasion?
Funeral.
You're fucking with me, right?
It's just going to be
a little private affair.
That's why I didn't call you.
Oh, well you don't have room in
that big ol' penthouse for little ol' me?
You know, I wasn't expecting
to have to deal
with any more guests.
Well... But what the hell?
Right? I mean, we're neighbors.
Ha! I'm sure that I can
squeeze you into my plans.
That's very gracious
of you, Nicky, really.
Very gracious.
So, what is this,
a little late-night
remodeling or what?
No. I was just, uh, always
curious if these things really worked.
And what was the verdict?
Surprisingly, quite well.
Uh-huh!
Hey, everyone, this is Callie
my neighbor from downstairs.
Hi. I'm the one whose head
you've been stomping
on all evening.
Oh, how rude of us.
Let me make it up to you,
with say, cocktail,
bong hit, open-faced
cheese sandwich.
Actually, all 3
sound fairly tempting.
Let me give you a quick
breakdown of what's going on.
Hey, hey, hey, where you...
Where you going?
I'm just not in the
party mood anymore.
What're you talking
about, Jordan? It's early.
I mean, don't you want
to be here with open arms
when your man arrives
and give him a big old hug?
Come on, Nicky. Everything's
been cool up until now.
Don't ruin it.
Listen, I am just pointing out
the possibilities.
Rich kid like him,
parents are loaded,
fortune 500 future.
You know what? Jim's
money has nothing to do
with why we're together.
You're just bitter.
Yeah, well, let's see, huh?
Girlfriend breaks up
with boyfriend
and shacks up with
boyfriend's best friend,
who just happens to be the
fattest cat on the West Side.
So, if that makes me bitter,
well, then, yeah, you got me.
You know what, Nick? I'm tired,
I'm worried, and
now, I'm really irritated.
So I'm not even going
to get into this
with you right now.
You and I are not together
because you couldn't commit
to anything. Not to school,
not to a career,
and definitely not
to a fucking
relationship with me.
Ah, you know, maybe if
there was a little more fucking,
it would've been... Bye.
Easier.
Hmm.
Guest of honor, huh?
Nicky said it was a funeral.
You know, Nicky's got
a pretty wild imagination.
Hey, Jordan... Jordan,
seriously...
Come on. Wait, all right?
Listen, I'm really sorry. It
wasn't right of me to say that.
I guess I'm just
pissed off at Jim, myself.
I know... I know
that you're worried.
And my attempt at a party
is, well, pretty much a bust.
But it is still a party.
I mean, shit,
it's not even midnight yet.
Any minute, Jim is going to
come waltzing through these doors.
Yeah. Blitzed out of his mind.
Almost definitely
blitzed out of his mind,
but he is going to come
waltzing through these doors.
And then, the real party's
going to start hopping.
So, what do you say? Hmm? How
about we give the punk one more ring?
I don't know. I...
Come on.
All right. Fine.
How about a smile?
No. A smile!
Perfect.
There you go.
Let's go in and call him, huh?
One, 2, 3, hit
Here we go. Check out
the treasure trove! Who wants...
Yo, t, how about
some dart wars, man?
Hell, no. We're going
to check out...
No, no. I got it.
I got it.
I swear, if he doesn't
answer, I'm calling his parents.
Well, you got a machine?
Machine?
Like an answering machine,
you know.
Maybe uh, maybe left
a message for you.
Shit. I didn't even
think about that.
Yo! You crazy, snake-assed
motherfucker, where are you?
Did you get him? I repeat...
Where the fuck are you?
Did you get him?
Yeah. You bet. Hold on.
Bull's eye, almost.
Fuck that game.
We're going to play
some naked twixter, man. Oh, yeah?
This place is fucking
kickin', man.
Hal and skyles went
round and round. No shit.
Yeah, no, I figured it would
happen, too, yeah.
Nick, let me talk to him. Wait.
Fucking classic, man.
Fucking classic.
Nick, give me the damn phone.
Hey, no. Jimmy, uh,
the old ball and chain. She wants
to chew your goddamn ears off.
Who wants in? Come on. Come on.
So, just get your ass
down here, pronto, all right?
I'm going to put her on.
There you go. Christ.
Jimmy, where the
hell have you been?
We've waited for you all night.
Jimmy? Hello?
Hello...
Nick, what's wrong
with the phone?
What?
The phone.
It's dead.
You know, just toss it here.
Maybe you hit the wrong button.
Hello...
Hello?
Well, doctor, I concur.
This here phone
is officially non-functional.
11:57 in the P.M.
Is there another phone
I can use somewhere?
Nope. Just the one portable.
Uncle Atticus is a firm
believer in minimalism.
Do any of you losers
have a cell phone?
Nope.
Sorry. Not on me.
No cell phone here, baby.
Nah. That shit'll
give you brain cancer.
That's the least of
your problems, bro.
Figures.
So, um, what did he say?
Where is that asshole, anyway?
He's down at the tunnel.
He's cavorting with the freaks
and the ghouls. Oh, right.
I'd make him scrub his cock
before he went to bed tonight.
Oh, that's, like, a little too much
information for all of us, there.
It's true, man.
Skyles, remember when you
brought that dirty girl from down there?
She gave you the clap and shit.
Nick, so what else did he say?
Jordan, you're killing me.
What he said was he's
going to be here soon.
So, what we're going to do,
is kick these shoes off,
relax and play
a fast, friendly, fun,
fabulous game of twixter.
That's right. Ok.
Right hand on left thigh.
Oh, please.Sorry.
All right now,
here we go.
Terry, what you got to do now,
is you gotta take your right foot
and put it on the yellow dot.
And Callie, what you gotta do
is take your left hand
and put it on the blue dot.
Terry, behave yourself.
Come on, now.
And, Jordan, once again,
you got to put your right hand
on the green dot.
Yeah. Right hand, baby,
on the green dot.
And Nick... Nick, you gotta put
your right hand on the green dot.
And Terry... Terry, rude.
You gotta fuckin',
uh, let's see...
You gotta put your right
hand on the blue dot.
And Callie, what you got to do
is put your left hand
on the green dot.
Callie, you gotta take your left
hand and put it on the green dot.
Terry, put your left nut
on the red dot.
Callie, take off your shirt
and put it on the blue dot.
Put your head... put your head...
Oh!
Yo, hal, why don't
you take your head
and shove it up
your ass now, man?
I'm out of here. I
gotta... I gotta use the can.
All right
Hey, hey. No!
Skyles, no. You can't
use that, man.
Hey, hey, skyles,
you can't use that.
Come on! Relax, dude,
I'm just taking a piss,
all right?
No, no! But, you can't use that!
Skyles!
Aah!
Somebody's cutting off
the circulation of my leg.
Whoa.
That motherfucker
threw you off your game, chief.
What you're going
to have to do now
is go back out there
and get in the action.
I got a finger in my ass!
Ah! Ole!
I'm going to lay
down, man. I'm going to puke.
Ole!
Ole? What does
that mean? Ow!
Ole!
Ow! Ok.
Enough!
No mas, no mas.
Let's catch a smoke on the roof.
Ok. Um, Nick, if Jim calls,
will you please come get me?
Oh, yeah. Sure thing.
Absolutely.
Terry, cold and wet?
Your mother.
Beverage, fool.
You want something?
Do you have any wine?
Ah, but of course, madame.
Make mine a mug.
Coming right up.
Hell, let's go
check out the study.
It's awesome.
Do do do da da da
Check this shit out, man.
The study! Sha-dimp!
Nick, uh, Nick hates it
when I'm in here, man,
because uncle Atticus
will whoop his little ass.
Look at this smooth
motherfucker.
Do do do dup
Depends on what you can
match up with this. Sha-dink.
Ahh.
I think it's time
I get some air.
I said bong head.
Drinks are served.
Merlot?
Oh. Thank you, darling.
Cheers.
Yeah, whoa-ho-ho.
To Jim.
Yeah. To Jim.
Jimmy. Oh, hold on.
Callie, you... you
want to join us?
Oh, no. I mean, I barely
even know the guy.
For all I know, he could
be like a total asshole.
He probably is. I mean, he fucking
missed, like, most of his party.
You know?
You know, she's got a point.
I guess she does.
Uh, people like him, you know.
They think they're so smart
because they've been
in college for what?
Like 10 years or
something? And they think
that makes them all high
and mighty, fucking superior.
I-I don't know.
I think it was equal parts.
He had it coming
and you were overreacting.
Nope. He was pissing
me off on purpose.
Ok.
I mean, some of those
guys... fucking grad students and shit...
Man, no offense or nothing,
but they are, like, the most
ignorant and annoying people
on the face of the earth.
They're like fucking
talking monkeys.
All they do
is regurgitate the last
thing they heard or read.
And then they take
that as gospel,
without ever applying
the lessons in real life first
to see if the... the
authors, or, hell,
even their goddamn
professors were full of shit or not.
Just because a guy's got
a few letters after his name,
doesn't mean everything
he says is right.
Most of it could be total crap.
Now, man, by nature,
is a morbid beast, right?
Stuck between his own
natural, genetic instincts to kill,
and his own modern dictums
to be civil.
Whoo. Bitter.
I mean, let's face it, man.
You know, in this day and
age, money is our meat. Right?
We don't go out and kill to survive
and breed, right? We make money
to survive and breed.
The only problem is what to do with
all those old instinctual urges for blood
that got us this far.
Excuse me.
I mean, shit, I read
some of those guys
they're always
bullshitting about.
Nietzsche and... and
that Russian dude.
And some of it made sense,
but a lot of it is
kind of like the Bible.
You know, it could be a
positive outlook on society,
or a negative. It's all
in the interpretation.
The guy at the end of that
crime and punishment book...
Did you read that?
Yeah... yeah.
He turns himself in
at the end. Why?
Because he felt bad,
and that's...
That's the whole
fucking point here.
In theory, this whole
Superman, better-than-you idea
is all good and
well, but in reality,
man's innate morals
about what's right and wrong
dictate that... that to
follow such a teaching
is not the path to
becoming a superior human,
but rather one that's,
uh, subhuman, you know?
I'm sorry. I didn't mean
to go on a rant there.
Actually, I think that's one
of the most intelligent things
I've heard all night.
All right.
I'll buy that.
You know, 6 months is
a, uh, a mighty long time.
Mm. Ha ha.
Aw... I should get back down.
No worries.
Cool.
Fuck.
No worries.
I like that.
She'll be back.
See, the key to a proper
hanging is the proper drop.
And should, if done correctly,
instantly snap the spinal cord.
And if done incorrectly?
Well, 2 possibilities.
One, if the drop is too short,
the person dies a slow,
painful death by asphyxiation.
Aah!
And the other?
Instant decapitation.
Impossible, man. Clean off?
It's all about tensile
strength, my friend.
Whiskey dick.
Shit.
What?
What did you do to skyles?
What the hell are
you talking about?
He just stormed out
of here all pissed off.
Well, I didn't do anything.
Really? Well, you were
the last one to see him.
What happened? What?
He tried to kiss me
and I said no.
Uh-huh. End of story.
But who led him on?
I can't believe this.
We're not having
this conversation.
And where is Jim, anyway?
This is ridiculous.
It's not even worth
sticking around anymore.
You want to leave?
Fine! Fucking leave.
I just thought that since I
went through all the trouble
of convincing my uncle
to give up his amazing pad
for your lousy boyfriend's
freaking going-away party,
that the least you could do
was pretend to try
and have a goddamn
zippity-do good time.
You know what? That's
it. I'm fucking out of here.
By all means.
Let me get your coat.
Hal, do me a favor.
Just Chuck that for me.
You know what?
Don't fucking bother.
No, no, no. House rules. I'm
going to walk you out. Let's go.
And Callie, sweetheart,
drink your wine.
I think he's lost his mind.
You know what? I'll just
be so fucking happy
to get rid of you, believe me.
This is so big of you,
Nick. Yeah, yeah.
I think I have
some party favors,
and it's about time for them.
Is this yours?
Yes. It's mine. Great.
Some buds. It's good shit, girl.
No. I think you're better off.
You and Jim deserve
each other. You know that?
Are you kidding me?
I'm on fire, man.
All I needed was just a little
more of your time. That's it.
Are you s... I don't think
you should have some, Terry.
It's the fucking kind bud,
you know what I'm saying?
I don't think... really,
you've had enough.
Oh, fuck!
Oh, shit! Nicky!
Nicky! Guys!
Not the bong. Fuck.
We have a problem!
Terry... My god.
Fuck. Fuck!
What happened?
Come here, pal.
Grab him with me.
Careful! Wake up, man, wake up!
Come on. Come on, wake up.
No, no, not this one.
The other one.
Why, why?
He has to puke.
He bloody needs a toilet
that's going to work.
Callie, what else did he take?
Uh, just booze and weed.
I-i... maybe there was coke.
I have no fucking idea.
Come on, Terry, come on, Terry.
Watch his head.
Out of the way.
Out of the way.
Come on, kid.
Come on, Terry.
Come on!
Don't you nod out on me
now, man. Come on, let's go!
Give me a sign.
Give me a sign.
I just... I think I need... I'm sorry,
I-I need water or something. I...
Come on, pal. Come on!
You know what? Let's just
get you out of here, huh?
You're only going
to make things worse.
Ok.
Besides, I need to use
your phone, anyway.
You know what?
Um, I think that I'm...
I'm just going
to go home because...
Now she wants a drink.
You know, um,
because, um, I really
don't want to be here
when the paramedics arrive.
My dad gets, you know, really...
You know, you really
fucked things up tonight.
I mean, arriving
unannounced was one thing,
but then to not have the
goddamn common courtesy to drink
the goddamn drink that
you goddamn asked me for.
Um, I-I wasn't thirsty, man.
Well, then you shouldn't
have asked for it,
now, should you have?
I'll get you another
bottle, all right?
Oh, Callie, Callie, Callie,
it's not about the wine.
It's about the plan. And
let me tell you, sister,
you really, really
fucked up the plan.
My dad's got
a whole cabinet full.
But it's ok. It's ok, right?
Because I am a...
A professional!
Right?
Yeah.
It's good stuff he's got.
I said I'm a professional,
right?
Yes. Yes, you're a professional.
And what's the key to
being a good professional?
Um... I don't...
I don't know.
Improvisation.
Being able to think
on your feet.
Getting a basketful of lemons,
and making lemonade.
Gotta get your carbs.
Ya da da vivere
Come on!
Come on!
Ciao Bella! Bellisimo!
Wake up!
Wake the fuck up!
Nick, call an ambulance!
Vivere
Nicky, where are you?
Nick! Nick!
Call 911! Nick!
Nick, what're you doing?
Get in here!
Ya da da vivere
Nick, answer me!
Nicky!
Hey, Nick, where are you?
Call somebody!
Nicky, answer me!
That's improvisation.
Nick! Nick!
You really should've
had that wine.
Come on. Come on.
Give me a sign. Jesus.
Come on, wake up, kid.
Uhh!
What the...
ah do do do do
where the fuck were you? I was
screaming my ass off back there.
I ran down to use
Callie's phone.
And did you call 911?
They're on their way.
Right. Just like Jim,
huh? Be here any minute?
Where are you going
with all this?
Uh, let me see. My... my
boyfriend is missing,
Terry is back there in the
bathroom fucking dying,
and everyone else is
suddenly disappearing.
Oh, oh, and to top it all off,
I found a little problem
with your phone, here, Nick.
There are no fucking batteries.
My... my clever girl.
What the hell have
you done, Nicky?
Where's Jim?
That other girl...
Callie... where is she?
All this because the lousy phone
doesn't have any lousy batteries?
No. All of this because
you were on a conversation
on that lousy fucking phone
without any lousy
fucking batteries, Nick!
You're just putting on
a show, Nick.
Kid's toast.
Well, you can't say Nancy
Reagan never warned him.
I interrupt something?
Man, it's gotten
awful quiet in here.
Not at all.
Just Jordan is pointing out
the fact that the lousy phone
doesn't have
any lousy batteries.
You don't say.
Oh, I do.
I don't know what the
fuck is going on here.
But I-I think I'm just...
I'm just going
to go, ok? Just...
Hey, hey, hey, come on.
I was just fooling
around, really.
Come on. You know
me. This is ridiculous.
I'm ever the buffoon.
I was just horsing around.
Let's just give Jim one
more call before you go.
Just out of my way, ok?
But you've been dying
to talk to him all night.
We need to get Terry
some help, Nicky.
Help for what?
He's dead!
Isn't that right, hal?
Uh, you could stick
a fork in him.
What our priority is now is Jim.
I mean, this is his party,
after all.
So, what we're going to do
is give him one last ring.
Ah. Here we go.
Fuck.
You fucker.
God... fucker.
I fucking knew it, man.
It was so... it was
a shot in the dark,
but, damn, I'm good.
You fucking knew the whole time,
and you didn't say anything,
you fucking freak?
You know, I mean, the
date fit. May 21, right?
It wasn't until Johnny rotten
threw me into the
damn thing that I knew.
Almost busted my shoulder.
Fucking box didn't
even budge, right?
Way too heavy.
Unless, of course...
Something be
weighing it down, huh?
Bravo!
Bravo.
To the Victor goes the spoils.
Ah, not so fast, my friend.
Why don't you
double-check that hat?
You're sick.
You both are fucking sick!
Well, I'll be damned, man.
Dancing with the wire
out in the open, huh?
Hiding in plain sight. Isn't that
what you always taught us, hal?
Never let me down, Nick.
I believe that, uh,
makes it a draw.
Duel to the death at 10 paces?
That would be nice. The only
problem is that I only have one gun.
Hey.
How long after
I left the bar, huh?
How long does it take one man
to finish off a bottle of Tequila?
To friends. To you. To... hey.
Don't ever forget me.
Down the hatch.
All right, man. Ok.
Mmm!
Whoo!
Get some more. Hurry!
Yeah.
Hey, bartender, let's
get some more whiskey!
No, no, no, no.
My treat.
Hey, buddy, come on down.
Give me another
seltzer and water.
So, who's getting the
ass-end of the hog, here?
Just get me the fucking drinks.
Coming at you, bud.
Oh, jeez!
Let the party begin, jimbo!
Ahh.
Beers it is.
Thank you.
I used to crawl in this
thing as a kid, man.
See if I still fit in here.
Bet you a dollar
you can't fit in there.
A dollar? Man.
Whew.
I want to get in. I want
to see what it looks like.
Hold your horses, there, jimbo.
It's your night, and it's
going to be a long one.
Come on. Let me
in, man! Let me in!
Trippy, right?
You're not going
to saw me in half,
are you?
I think maybe we
should bring some girls
down in here later. What
do you think about that?
Yeah. You could bring,
uh, you could bring Jordan.
Hey, uh, the lid's
stuck or something, man.
I'll be right back!
Nick, where'd you go?
What're you doing?
Nick!
Nick!
God damn, Nick!
Man, let me out of here!
It's all part of the fun, bud.
Holy shit. What the...
Nick, what're you doing?
God damn, I'm going
to kick your fucking ass
if you don't open
this door right now, man.
What's that?
Look, you little pussy,
open the fucking door right now!
Ahh.
Open the fucking door!
What're you doing?
Nick! God damn it!
Shit!
Nick!
Nick!
God damn you, man!
Fuck you!
Hello?
Fuck you, man.
Fuck! No.
God damn it! Let me
out, man! Fuck! Please!
God damn it!
God damn it! Fuck!
Fuck!
Fucker, let me the fuck out!
Fuck!
Nick...
Nick! Nick! Nick!
You know, I probably
should've taken that phone out
to begin with.
But then again, I
needed the style points.
So, all of this
is because of me?
Don't flatter yourself,
sweetheart, huh?
You think I went through all
the trouble of killing 10 people
just because I still
got a hard-on
for her scrawny ass? You killed everyone?
Of course, everyone!
Even Mary and Walt.
These people were
your fucking friends, Nick.
We were all your friends, Nicky.
They were human beings.
They had fucking families.
People who loved them. People
who are going to fucking miss them.
Why? Why, Nicky?
Because my... my daddy
didn't love me.
Ah, jiminy Christmas.
What is wrong with you people?
Because daddy didn't love me?
'Cause mom left me
on the tit too long?
Ol' pastor Pete, he touched
my pecker when I was 8?
Blah, blah, blah, blah.
Why? Why? Why? Why did the quick
brown fox jump over that lazy dog, huh?
You people with all your whys,
you think you think you can
make sense of every
sick thing that goes on
in this world with one
or 2 little whys,
so somehow you can
sleep better at night.
Why does evil Nicky do
the crazy things he does?
Maybe it's the TV.
Or the satanic vampire cults
or the goddamn Internet.
Well, let me tell you,
sweetheart,
that's just a little...
Too goddamn convenient
for this psychopath.
Because he could.
What the fuck is that
supposed to mean?
The quick brown fox
jumped over the lazy dog
because he could.
He was better than them.
Better? The best!
Oh, I don't play guitar,
or write for rolling stone,
or dunk a basketball,
or throw a decent left hook,
but I definitely,
and I mean definitely,
showed tonight
there is one thing
that I can do better
than anyone else.
That's why I'm the best,
because I got the brains
and the balls.
Granted, I see the beauty
in your work here, Nick.
You know, 10 people dead
without anyone saying a word.
I mean, it's downright
impressive.
I imagine I'm gonna be
teaching it real soon.
So don't get me wrong,
pal, when I say
that you're one
crazy motherfucker,
and they're gonna fry your ass.
Not part of the plan.
But you are.
You see, you got the whys
coming out the ying-Yang, professor.
You're the outsider.
You're the one who's
devoted his entire life
to the morbid pursuit
of the art of murder.
Go on. Left jacket pocket.
Left jacket pocket.
And you, partner? Huh?
I'm just gonna be the hero
who took you down
and escaped alive.
No! No, no, no!
Why don't you join
the party, Jordan, huh?
Why don't you come
join the party?
You know, f-for a big brain,
Nicky, you're awfully fuckin' stupid.
I'm smart enough to beat you.
Beat?
Ha! Shit, boy, did you ever stop
for fucking one goddamn minute
and take a good arm's-length
look at the fuckin' situation, huh?
You're nothing
but a shill, my friend.
A little experiment that
I've privately undertaken
that I readily admit's
gone a wee bit wrong.
Right? Question.
How much bullshit
do I have to fill
an over-intelligent yet fucking
emotionally retarded kid's head with
before he steps,
or in this case leaps,
with both feet out of the
kitchen sink over the edge?
Evidently, not fucking much.
Just whisper fucking
sweet nothings
of murder and mayhem
into his ear,
and 3 semesters later, he's got his
best friend stuffed into a box, man.
Jesus, kid, wake the fuck up!
You're not in control here!
I am! Always have been!
In case you haven't
noticed, Mr. Milgrim,
I'm the one with the gun.
Yeah? So fuckin' shoot.
Fuck.
Hey, what's that
old sayin', huh?
Bring a gun to a knife fight?
Run! Jordan, get
the fuck out of here!
Nowhere to go, guys!
Fuck.
Let me in. Right.
Just get us in the mood!
Well, who else do you
think I'm talking to?
Look, lady, right now,
right here and right now,
let's get something
straight, ok?
In case you haven't noticed,
that crazy fuck out there has a gun,
and I... we don't!
Hey, just look around
for a weapon wi...
Look around for a real weapon.
Hey, would anyone
like a bong hit?
Come on, all the kids
are doin' it!
Wake up, Leigh!
Hal, you haven't started
without me, have you?
Huh? Hal!
Have you started
without me? Hal?
Shit. Hal?
God. Aah!
Hal? Hal?
Put that in your dissertation.
Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!
Here, kitty, kitty,
kitty, kitty!
God.
Aah!
Oh, shit!
No!
Ah, that's right, Jordan
mcneil, come on down!
You're the next contestant on the
world's most popular game show,
flee for your life!
Ohh! Shit!
Somebody get the number
on that truck.
Come on, Jordan!
You're not helping me any.
It's too easy, Jordan.
It's too easy.
Fuck!
Oh,
god. You can do this.
This is not part of the plan.
Women!
Open up! Open up!
Help! Help! No!
Jordan, Somebody help me!
Somebody help me!
Nice.
Please, anyone!
Help!
Help! Help!
You're starting to become
a real pain in the ass.
My, my.
Very clever, Jordan.
Very clever girl.
In for 2?
Jordan!
You're killing me, Jordan.
Don't you want me
to finish anything?
Fuck!
They'll fucking catch you.
That is all part of the fun.
Being up against the
best and brightest
the f.B.I. Has to offer.
I mean, shoot.
They might even have
to get Johnny d.,
the mind hunter himself,
out of retirement.
Relax.
This shouldn't hurt.
Well, maybe just a little.
Fuck you.
It's my lucky day.
One shot left.
Aah!
Fuck Nietzsche.
Goddamn genuine,
modern-day alchemist, baby.
Ain't nothing
gonna break me down.
Know what I'm saying?
Did you see that shit
I did, man?
Did you see that?
I fuckin' kung-fu'd
his ass and shit.
I never did like him
anyway, man.
He used to stare
at my ass and shit.
You know what I'm sayin'?
I kicked that fucker's ass!
You did good, too,
though, you know?
Thank you.
Thank you very much.
I give you props.
That was real sexy,
what you were doing.
This is some good weed,
too, right?
Hell of a party, huh?
Yeah. Ain't that the truth.
I kicked some ass. You
know what I'm sayin'?
You didn't do so bad yourself.
Thank you.
Again.
Speaking of asses, though,
you know, I wanted to tell you,
you have a really sweet ass.
Guess we have to find
some new friends now, huh?
Are you kidding me?
I'm never dating again.
Does that mean casual
sex is out of the question?
Yeah. Right.
Come on.
I had to ask.
Hey, baby, what ya
doin' tonight
sugar?
I hope you call
when it's all right
well, I got this
certain case of blues
and if I see
your smiling face
I know it will diffuse
hey, baby,
how's about a cruise?
We can go
any place you choose
well, I've heard
Mulholland's fine,
we'll take the view
and drink some wine
so, hey
what you doin' tonight?
What you doin', baby?
lions gate entertainment
Knock-a-no!