All language subtitles for The Salton Sea 2002 PAL-R2

25.000 English
DVD Subrip PAL � 27.10.2019

The Salton Sea (2002)

My name is Tom Van Allen...

...or Danny Parker.

I honestly don't know anymore.

You can decide.

Yeah, maybe you can help me, friend.

As you can see, I don't have
a hell of a lot of time left.

You can decide who I am.

Avenging angel...

...Judas Iscariot...

...loving husband...

...prodigal son...

...Prince of Denmark?

All of these? None of these?

You decide.

Trumpet player...

...speed freak.

Speed.

That's as good a place
to start as any.

But first, a little background
on the mad world of the tweaker.

Methedrine was first distilled
by a Japanese scientist before WWII.

Hand it to the Japanese,
they knew a good thing when they saw it.

This guy is so tweaked, he thinks
he can survive this without a scratch.

Maybe not.

Some say that 2 percent of the Japanese
had a meth problem after WWII.

Factory workers, soldiers, pilots.

Maybe that's why it took two bombs
to get them to surrender.

A nuclear blast is just a minor
nuisance to a determined tweaker.

In the '50s,
the housewives got a hold of it.

Dexedrine, Benzedrine, Methedrine.

Now, that's a classic speed freak
for you.

Skinny and cleaning house.

I'll bet her poor husband
never knew what hit him in the sack.

It was rumored that one of our
presidents dabbled with energy shots.

Imagine that,
a slammer in the White House.

If it's true, I bet Khrushchev
never got a word in edgewise.

By the late '60s, the government
cracked down and sent it underground.

Bikers controlled the market
for a while.

Now anyone with a basic chemistry kit and
the right ingredients can cook it at home.

Ever see a long-haired, tattooed freak
buying all the cold medicine...

...he can lay his hands on
at 3:00 in the morning?

Take it from me,
he doesn't have a cold.

He's a cook.

Look in his kitchen, you'll find
a grocery list of unsavory ingredients.

Drain cleaner, hydrochloric acid,
match heads for red phosphorus...

...ether, and of course,
the cold medicine.

That's for the Ephedrine,
soon to become Methedrine.

This guy is a regular Julia Child.

Problem is, even Julia screws up
the bouillabaisse from time to time.

-It's not right.
-You think?

Something's off.

We can do better.

This dude in my CMA meeting...

...he fucked my sister.

-Funny!
-That's fucked.

He's like a quantum physicist.
He's telling me about uncertainty.

You never know
what a molecule is doing.

When you look at it, it changes,
it reacts. Like people.

You wouldn't know what I was doing
unless you were looking at me.

You're so locked in,
I could choke you!

So here's the deal, man.
We do an experiment on...

Look away. Look that way.

So that's where I found myself.

No, I should choose my words
more wisely.

This is the world I sought out.

The land
of the perpetual night party.

Day swallowing night
and night swallowing day.

The crank compressing time
like some divine piston...

...on its awesome downstroke.

We've been at this for three days.

Or is it four?

Tweakers, lokers, slammers,
coming and going...

...swearing eternal allegiance
and undying love for one another...

...only to wake up after the binge and
realize you wouldn't cross the street...

...to piss on them
if their head was on fire.

Three days.

Or is it four?

I know what you're thinking,
but don't give up on me just yet.

Just wait till I've told
my whole story.

And keep your eyes open.

Nothing is as it seems.

-We're out of gak!
-What time is it?

-It's like 12:00.
-Midnight?

-You okay?
-Yeah.

I would not be into this without you.

How do we get this gig, anyway?

-I don't know. Got a dealer in mind?
-I do know a guy. Bobby.

-Who's Bobby?
-Bobby's got some good stuff.

Jimmy the Finn,
let's go score some gak.

Bobby?

They're coming.

What?

The spiders, man.

But I'm ready for you this time!

Ready for you!

You thought you could fuck
with Bobby!

You thought
you could fuck with Bobby!

With Bobby
you thought you could fuck!

Got that ass, boy! Yeah!

-Who the fuck are you?
-It's me, man. It's Jimmy.

-What can I do for you?
-Couple of eight balls ought to do us.

Six. Six.

-I can't breathe!
-You know what? Don't mind her.

Don't mind her, man!

Shut the hell up, goddamn it!

You know what?
I got no vocational skills.

-What the fuck do you want from me?
-Hey, man, take it easy.

What the fuck do you want from me?

-I got no vocational skills!
-Take it easy!

-What?
-Lay off the girl!

What?

What?

Did you bring the plastic men?

Did you bring the plastic men?

Did you bring the plastic men?

No, man.

That's just your good crank
talking there, brother.

Fucking come on, Bobby! Come on!

Bobby? Bobby?

That rhymes with...

That rhymes with...

Hobby.

Hobby.

-Hobby.
-Hobby.

-I like that.
-Funny.

Bobby, hobby.
Couple of eight balls, huh?

Six.

I like that. Six.

Excuse me.

I don't mean to impose,
but I am the Ocean.

Thanks.

What? He's just juiced.
He wouldn't do nothing.

-It was like our own private soire�.
-So far in, we were out!

How do you know
you're doing the right thing?

I don't know,
like people around you are happy.

They say thank you and stuff.

Just go with the flow.

Come on, brother, power chord!

For the people that don't do drugs
or just do them occasionally...

...it's something that becomes
your life and you belong.

You finally hit bottom
and you know who you are...

...because you can't go any lower.

When you find...

...a friendship...

...that you wouldn't have found
anywhere else.

Still and all...

...there's a kind of intimacy
with those that can go the distance.

Sometimes you see the world
so clearly...

...and you know just what to do...

...and just when to do it.

Just what you should have done
and when you should have done it.

L.A. Sheriff's Department.
How may I direct your call?

C.I. Number: DJ6T5KF55.

-Who's your contact?
-Morgan and Garcetti.

-Hey.
-Yo. Got a hot one.

You go, my little tweaker friend.

I don't wanna have this conversation
in the middle of Crankville.

This the guy?

It speaks, yeah.

-Bobby, hobby, lobby.
-What?

Bobby Ocean.

Cut to the chase. What's he holding?

He's a tweaker.
Definitely gets high on his own supply.

-He's bugging.
-What the fuck is he holding?

Definitely a dealer.

-I am the Ocean.
-Couple of pounds, maybe more.

Mossberg pump on the floor.

Cheap-ass MAC-12, fully loaded,
safety off. And some knives.

-Any company?
-Yeah, there's a Mrs. Ocean.

She probably won't give you trouble,
but, who knows, could be a black belt.

She was occupied at the time.

Nice job, dog. Let's take him down.

All right.

-And there was a kid.
-A kid?

-You sure?
-Yeah, I'm pretty sure.

Goddamn, dog.
You are one observant tweaker.

Thank you. Learned from the best.

And he likes to use a spear gun, too.
So, do be careful.

-I'm touched.
-Fuck you, I'm worried about the kid.

If you cared so much,
why didn't you do something?

Want me to do your paperwork, too?

Know why you didn't do anything?

Because you're a cock-sucking,
lowlife tweaker, that's why. Shithead!

I never noticed your eyes were hazel.

This dude will do anything to touch me.

Take him to the Chippendales
or something.

Oh, my God. Bobby!

Why are you leaving me? Bobby? Why?

You need some help?

To think I was living next to
Miss Congeniality and didn't even know it.

Hey.

You left some Chinese-looking shit
out here.

Thank you.

Sorry I was rude.
I'm just new around here.

Yeah. It's a dangerous neighborhood.

I live across the hall.
My name is Danny Parker.

Colette Vaughn. Thank you.

Danny. Okay.

My name is Tom Van Allen.

I'm a trumpet player.

My name is Tom Van Allen.

I play the trumpet.

My name is Tom Van Allen.
I'm a trumpet player.

That hurts my heart.

What a beautiful composition.

And the performance?

Tom Van Allen
is nothing short of dazzling...

...in his interpretation
of Miles Davis' haunting, moody piece.

-Thank you.
-And he has a hot ass...

...with hardly any hair on it.

-Again, I thank you.
-No, I was talking about Miles.

Don't!

What do you think of when you play?

I just think about what life
would be like without you.

Let's spend the night here.

-There are no motels here.
-No, no!

Right here on the beach.

Come on, let's do it.

I got us lost.

We should get going.

Okay, we'll stay.

We'll stay.

You gotta trust the system.

I gave you this Bobby thing.
I've done a lot of busts for you.

Put your cigarette out.

We're in church.
Put your cigarette out.

It's disrespectful, you're smoking
in front of the Virgin Mary.

Whatever.

So, I work hard. I hate what I do
but I'm good at it, you know?

-I'm industrious.
-Yes, you are.

So why does Garcetti hate me?

Come on, man.
You can't take Garcetti seriously.

He hates everyone.

He doesn't even like dolphins.

You know that?
I'm not kidding you. He does.

Seriously, the man hates dolphins.

Have you ever heard of anyone
who doesn't like a dolphin?

Garcetti is a dolphin-hater.

-Hey, bro.
-What's up?

How are you doing?

You tell him yet?

No, I was getting to it.

What?

Danny, it pains me to have to tell you,
but remember Domingo?

The wetback you helped us put away
for trafficking months back?

It turns out that he's connected
to the Mexicali boys.

Now his homeys
are making a lot of noise...

...about hanging a Colombian necktie
on the rat.

You know what that is?

They cut a hole in your throat.
Pull your tongue out through it.

-Fuck you!
-Interesting, isn't it?

You have to take a hike.
Disappear. Protect yourself.

You're not gonna protect me?

No, listen!
I do bust after bust for you guys.

For a solid year.
You're nothing without me.

Over and over, and you'd cut me loose?

Your felony has been dropped
to a misdemeanor.

Your snitch card is full.
I'll clear it with the D.A.

And you, my friend, are going
to get lost before Domingo finds you.

Now go. Get lost.

I only deal in high-end weapons.

All guaranteed stolen. All traceable
only to the original owners.

Glock, semiautomatic, 9mm.

Tenifer matte finish, polymer grip,
fixed sights, 4.5-inch barrel, 22 ounces...

...double-action and a 10-round magazine.

I could hook you up with this gun
for $350, well below market value.

Maybe you're looking for something
with a chrome finish.

Something to impress the ladies.

A Llama Mini Max .38 Super Auto,
semiautomatic.

Fresh satin chrome, black rubber grip,
three-dot fixed sights...

...3.5-inch barrel, skeletonized handle,
with extended slide release.

Eight-capacity magazine, single-action.

Sir, I won't lie. This gun is not the bomb.
It will do the job. But it ain't all that.

That's why you can walk out of here
with this gun for the low price of $150.

Looking for power? This gun has got
mad power, kick and reputation.

That's right.
The Smith .357 Magnum revolver.

Rubber combat-style grips. Fixed rear,
ramp front sights, 2-inch barrel.

Weighs in at a feather-light 21 ounces.
Eight-shot capacity, double-action.

If it's impact you're looking for,
the Magnum will satisfy all your needs.

These are my guns. All sales are final.
All prices are negotiable.

Fuck! Where do you find these people?

The Del Amo Fashion Mall.

Mostly.

Mostly.

What are you gonna do tonight?

What am I gonna do? What are
we gonna do? What do you wanna do?

Why do you need a gun, anyway?

It's a dangerous world.

Open the door!

-I'm not fucking dressed!
-Yo!

-Use your fucking key!
-You mad-dogging me, bitch?

No. I was just admiring your boots.

Did you purchase them locally?

Come on! I ain't got all fucking day!

Okay, nice talking to you.

-Yeah, fuck you.
-Just a minute!

Let's go! Come on!

How many fucking times I got to knock
on this door, you fucking bitch?

-Did you go through my shit?
-I didn't.

How did you know it was there?
Fucking bitch! What were you doing?

What the fuck were you doing?
Where's my shit?

I put it there? What were you doing?

-Get off me!
-What the fuck are you doing?

-Come here!
-Get the fuck out of here.

-What the fuck?
-Get off me!

Bubba.

Ride them, cowboy.

It's a classy truck.

You like that?

You consider my proposition?

Get in, hoss. We'll talk it over.

Jimmy, listen to me.
I am in dire need of some cash.

You see that?
That is what I am talking about.

What?

You're smooth.
You use words like "dire" and shit.

You got language skills, son.

-Jimmy.
-"I'm in dire need of some cash."

Listen.

I want to do a big score
with Pooh-Bear.

And you know one of his dealers.

That guy you were talking to, Big Bill.

-You can get a hold of him.
-Yeah.

Hook me up with him. Tell him
I wanna make a deal with Pooh-Bear.

Listen to me.

Really listen to me, your friend.

This guy is... Okay.

You are a circle of something
that is totally pure and full of light...

...and that is totally smooth
and totally wonderful.

And he can't even understand himself.
No one can understand it.

It's just something
that has overtaken him.

It's not even him.
There's something that is on him.

There's no him in there.
He has this whole thing with his nose...

But he's got the gak.

Yeah.

-So, you in?
-Yeah!

Finn's in! What's the plan?

I got a connection
who wants to buy a quarter's worth.

No, man. A quarter is not anything...
That's nothing.

A quarter of a million.

Fuck!

Fuck!

What's in it for us?

A 10 percent finder's fee.

What is that? That's like...

$25,000.
You get $5,000 just for the ride.

Come on, man! Roll with the cougar!

Finn.

Might as well put a sign on back of the car
begging the cops to pull you over.

You mean, to throw them off?

Yeah, that's what I mean.

-Where the hell does this guy live?
-Palmdale.

Why do they call him Pooh-Bear?
Did you tell me that?

On account of his nose.

-You're going to have to explain that one.
-He doesn't have one.

I'm sure it's me.
I'm not making the connection.

You know the way Winnie the Pooh always
has his nose caught in the honey jar?

Pooh-Bear did so much gak
they had to cut his nose off.

Now he just has a plastic one.
They say he hasn't slept in over a year.

-Bullshit.
-I've never seen him sleep. Seriously.

Have you ever seen
Queen Elizabeth sleep?

No. What, is she a tweaker?

Yes, that's my point.

Get ready, gentlemen!

-Zapruder?
-Ready.

And rolling.

Oswald!

Ready!

-Grassy Knoll?
-Ready.

-And the undeniable Third Shooter?
-Good to go.

Okay, gentlemen, here we go.

Jesus, look,
here comes the President now!

That's the President of the United States,
ladies and gentlemen.

Here he comes, waving to the crowd.

Look at the First Lady.

She's looking radiant as ever.
Lovely.

As they turn the corner
into Dealey Plaza.

Here we go, gentlemen. Get ready.

Get ready!

Steady.

Steady!

Fire! Fire!

That's shooting.

Got a feeling there's a proposition
looming here, Danny-boy!

I got a guy, reliable,
wants to buy a quarter's worth.

Crank, huh?

-No, glass. The good stuff.
-Glass.

Can you handle that?
Can we talk price?

Make me an offer. Have some of this.
Have a taste of this.

-No, I'm good.
-It's delicious. Have a taste.

I'm telling you, it's good.

Have a taste. Come on.

-Fantastic.
-Secret recipe.

How about $14,000 a kilo?

I only deal in U.S. pounds.
None of that faggot, metric crap.

That's around 40 pounds for...

...$6,000 a pound.

Okay.

We got a deal.

Anything for a dear friend.

Forty pounds at $6,000 a pound.

If you say so.

I don't mean to be rude, but I don't
think you're taking me seriously.

I think it's you
who's not taking me serious.

I'm just here to do a deal.

I welcomed you here with open arms.
I did.

You're sitting here like some slick,
used-car salesman, trying to lowball me.

I'm not trying to lowball you.

I'll tell you about the last guy
who tried to jam me up.

-I'm not trying to jam you up.
-I love this goddamn story.

This dude shorted me $11. Thought
I wouldn't count it before I went home.

He was wrong.

You know what I did?

I put his head in a vise.

He's screaming and hollering.
You should have heard it.

I cut this guy's skull open
with a hacksaw.

I was staring at this boy's brain.

I was thinking,
he doesn't need this thing.

Anyone stupid enough
to try to jam me up...

...must not have much use
for his brain.

So I took it.

I did. I keep it in the freezer.

Every once in a while,
I cut off a slice...

...and mix it up with my dinner.

Or my breakfast.

$10,000 a pound.

Thanks for your hospitality.

Hang on. $9,000, take it or leave it.

I'll leave it.
$8,000 is as high as I can go.

All right. $8,000 is good.
$8,000 sounds good, Danny-boy.

$8,000 is where I was going. Eight's
my lucky number. Looks like we've a deal.

You know, you got a lot of nerve.

You got a lot of nerve.
Pooh-Bear likes that in a young man.

Hey, hang on a second!

Wanna stay for lunch?

I got your ass! I'm a dog!
Look at this.

I'm a fucking dog!

Shit!

-Can I ask you a question?
-Sure.

What does J.F.K. stand for?

John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

And he was
the President of the United States?

And he was killed?

They assassinated him.

Hey, Danny.

Thanks for not laughing at me.

All right. Here's the deal. Listen up.

My wife's pimp knows a guy
at Cedars-Sinai medical lab.

He'll be making a very special delivery
a week from this Friday.

Is it drugs?

Better than drugs. It's Bob Hope's
stool specimen. We're gonna boost it.

Why in the world
would you want to do that?

So we can sell it.

-To who?
-eBay.

I don't know, a collector.
It's Bob Hope.

He's a fucking national treasure.

I mean, exactly. So here's the deal.
This here is the lab.

What is that?

-The lab.
-I mean, what kind of fucking drink is that?

-A Cuba Libre.
-What is that? Like rum and Coke?

-Don't worry about it. It's irrelevant.
-I gotta be clear on the details.

-Can I taste this?
-No, you can't.

Put the lab down and shut the fuck up.
Come on. Goddamn it, guys, focus.

Danny, if I am going to let you in on this,
the least you can do is pay...

It gets frustrating. Focus.
Here we go. This here is the courier.

This dude makes the delivery
on the nose every Friday at 4:00 p.m.

The Alpha Team will be in the elevator.
That's Danny and Creeper.

We'll all have night-vision goggles,
police scanner and two-way radios.

It'll be bad ass!
Number Two Team will be by the stairwell.

-That's me and Jimmy.
-Wait a second!

-What about me?
-No chicks.

-What?
-No chicks.

No chicks?

-Do you have a driver's license?
-Yeah.

-Does anybody else here have one?
-No.

So you can be the getaway chick.
Or you can be my fluffer.

The Alpha Team will follow the courier
out from the elevator.

Kujo moving.

Number Two Team will cut the courier off
before he even gets to the lab.

Facing superior numbers
and an array of high-tech weapons...

...the courier will have no choice
but to comply with our demands.

-Get off it!
-Let go of the sample!

You Outbreak looking motherfucker!
Come on, drop it, fucker! Get up!

Here's the beautiful part: the getaway.

Both teams will rappel
down the center of the staircase.

Change clothes. Walk out the front door
like nothing fucking happened.

I'm okay!

Oh, fuck.

Nice.

-Danny, you in?
-I have to pass on this one.

You'll what?

He'll pass! Jimmy, you in?

No. I'm good.

Are you in or you out?

What are you doing out here?

Quincy... Oh, fuck.

My boyfriend kicked me out.
Whatever.

-You okay?
-Yeah, thank you. Good night.

Okay, good night.

-I'd invite you in, you know.
-No.

Why don't you leave this guy?

Not that easy.

Yes, it is.

What's this?

You were married, huh?

Was she everything to you?

Yeah.

That's nice.

You have anyone like that?

Yeah, I've got a kid.

She's staying with my grandma
while I get another job.

Well, look for another job.

So where does Quincy fit in?

I had a few medical bills.

You'll have a lot more
unless you get rid of this guy.

Yeah, well, I will.

One way or another, I will.

Bubba, we're good. Pooh-Bear is in.
And you got the $250,000, right?

So, let's do it.

Nope.

What nope?

I wanna do a small buy first.

$10,000. Cash on the barrelhead.
We'll see how it goes.

No! You said the whole whack now.
This guy is ready. I told him you were.

He'll think I'm a liar.
It's gotta be now. What's the difference?

I don't know him.
And I don't really know you, partner.

-That's downright insulting.
-You'll have to live with that.

My money, my risk, my rules.

You're in a very tenuous position
on the food chain, hoss.

He won't like this.
I'll take it...

Do you believe this weasel-face prick,
trying to pull this off without us?

Motherfucker.

-Fuck!
-Hey, dog.

-What the fuck are you doing here?
-Hey. Jesus!

You fucking scared me!
I thought I was in trouble for a second.

Quit lying to me.

Did you really think you were slick enough
to pull this off by yourself?

-I don't know.
-Did you?

I didn't want to do anything without...
You told me to get lost.

I was just trying to do a good score
so I could get lost.

Am I supposed to sit around
till Domingo kills me? Come on.

Parker, who's on the other end?

Pooh-Bear is his name. His nickname.
I don't know his name.

He's a cook and a dealer in Palmdale.

I'll just do whatever you want.
I'll call the dude, tell him it's over.

Wrong, pal.

You're gonna roll over on these guys.

-What are you talking about?
-You don't have a choice.

We can go fed on your ass right now.
Ongoing criminal conspiracy.

Intent to buy and distribute
$250,000 worth of crank.

-What's the mandatory on that?
-Ten years minimum.

Yes.

And believe me, word will go out
that you rolled over and snitched.

And that's not good in prison, dog.
That's not good at all.

Holland Dale Monty, a.k.a. Pooh-Bear.

Served five years manslaughter for beating
a pimp to death with an electric wheelchair.

-That sounds right.
-Here's the scoop.

Looks like Pooh-Bear scores dope
by ripping off other slingers.

You can see how lucky you are.

What's to stop him from doing me
as soon as I get in the room?

-We're coordinating with Palmdale P.D.
-That makes me feel real good.

Shut up. Don't worry about it.
Just do what we tell you.

Do everything by the book.
Pooh-Bear goes down, nobody gets hurt.

What about the other thing?

-The menacing silver car.
-Did you check the license plate?

-Brace yourself.
-The Domingo boys, right?

-It's worse than that. It's much worse.
-Don't fuck with me! What is it?

It's a teacher.

The car is registered
to a Mrs. Nancy Plummer.

She's 57 years old!

She's been a third grade schoolteacher
for the last 33 years!

Dog, have you been tweaking
with the higher education?

You're getting paranoid.
You better lay off the gak.

Cliff said he saw you downtown
a few weeks ago.

That's how we tracked you down.

He said you looked so bad
he barely recognized you.

Billy's a narcotics officer now,
you know.

We want to help you.

I know that everybody deals with grief
in their own way.

I know how hard it is to find closure.

For myself, I feel
I have finally found it in my heart...

...to forgive those people
that killed my daughter.

I gave my grief to Jesus Christ
and it helps.

I'm really happy that you found
some peace. That's good.

I want you to leave me alone.
Do you understand?

Listen.

Nancy has been coming downtown.
I've seen her and it's dangerous.

Just make her stay away, okay?

Turn around.

My guy changed the deal.
I want to talk to Pooh-Bear.

-I'll tell him for you.
-See? That's his.

Don't say a fucking word.

-Pooh-Bear, what's up?
-He's blue.

We're coming down
from a 10-day ride, man.

Pull your pants down.

-You heard him.
-Pull your motherfucking pants down!

-What the fuck you talking about?
-Little Bill.

Put your fucking hands up.
Put your fucking hands up. Come on!

I told you he's a good-looking
young man. Holy shit!

You know...

...sometimes a man will do...

...almost anything...

...to get what he wants.

I've done some things.

Introduce him to Captain Steubing.

Hey, now, listen.

We don't have a deal? Fine.
I'll just go.

What do you want me to say?

Captain Steubing,
he hasn't eaten in over a week.

That and the rabies
don't make for a happy badger.

Now, he thinks
that you might work for the police.

That's crazy!
I don't work for the police!

Don't impress me.
I'm not the one making the accusations.

Address Captain Steubing.

-Go ahead.
-Captain, this is crazy.

I don't know what you heard,
who you heard it from...

...but I am not a cop.
I don't know if you've checked me out.

I don't think he believes you.

Drop your package in the cage.

There's an idea. Maybe
put your pee-pee in the hole there.

I'm not gonna do that. Listen.

Come on. Come on, boy.

Goddamn it!

You better start talking
because he's going to get you!

All right! Okay, okay.

If you're gonna say something,
you gotta say it now!

Jesus! Jesus! Okay!

It's Little Bill!
He was talking shit about you.

He was saying he's cutting you out.
That's why you guys had trouble lately.

I saw him. He took the money
I brought you. $10,000.

He talked about how you'd lost it.
He's carrying it.

-Shut the fuck up. He's lying.
-Why would I lie? He's got your money!

People say a lot of things when
they're sporting badger food for a pecker.

Right!

Then again, people do a lot of things
when they're around a lot of money.

-It ain't a bad idea to check it out.
-Come on, Pooh!

-We're just checking.
-What kind of shit is this?

-How do we know if we don't check?
-This is bullshit, man!

-What the fuck is this, homes?
-Little Bill?

It's not what you think, Pooh.
Tell them, man! It's not...

What the fuck was that?

What was that?

This was supposed to be a test, right?

$10,000 worth of good glass
and then $250,000...

-Oh God!
-Fuck.

-You got to take it easy.
-Can I have a glass of water?

I'll get you some water.

Oh God! Pooh, please!

Oh God!

Dear Mother of God, Bill!
Please, Bill!

Thank you. That shit wasn't right.

Can you shut him up over there, please?
Shut up!

I've got my sample. Here.

-I sense a little apprehension.
-No, no. I just...

You're making me nervous.

You're not gonna back out
on this thing, are you?

Please don't do that.

That would sincerely hurt my feelings.

Danny.

Danny, are you there?

Oh, Jesus.

If I could just stand here
for a moment, I'll be fine.

Sure.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Look at us. What a pair.

Can I try that again?

I can't.

Shit.

You should go.

What's going on?

There's someone else.

Yes.

It's okay.

But I still owe you
for a cup of coffee, whenever...

No, wait.

Don't go.

I want to talk.

I'm tired of lying.

What you want to do is
you want to go back the way you came.

Make a left at the bottom.
It'll take you right back to the highway.

That's it?

Do you mind if I use your bathroom?

Sure. Go past the TV, turn right.
It's the first door on your left.

-Do you mind?
-Make it fast.

Let's go.

I could have done something.

They would have killed you, too.

I could have fought.

I could have died.

I'm dying now.

You're not dying. You're right here.

Listen.

I want to do something good.

I want to help you with Quincy.

You can't help me with Quincy.

Yes, there's something I can do.
Come on.

Here, take this.

I can't take that.

No, it's not what you think.

This is my pager number.

Take this bag and hide it
where you know he can't find it.

When you know he'll be there
for a while, page me, then leave.

Why?

Some guys will take care of him.
You won't see him anymore.

-I don't want to do this.
-It's okay. They're cops.

I work with them. I messed up.
You can fix this.

Do it for your daughter.

Yo, man, I ain't got nothing!
Get these cuffs off me!

-Bubba.
-Yes?

-You got the money?
-Yes.

Okay.

Make sure you come alone because
Pooh-Bear doesn't like surprises.

I ain't an idiot, asshole.

See you tonight.

A man of few words.

What's up? You nervous?

You two clowns watching my back?

Make sure you hit the floor when
we come in. It could get ugly there.

We don't want to accidentally shoot you.

-How did it go?
-You tell me.

You ready to go meet the team?

Well, get in, Hoss.

For those of you who don't know,
this is Tom Van Allen, a.k.a. Danny Parker.

Around a year ago,
Mr. Van Allen's wife was murdered...

...in a meth lab out near the Salton Sea.

No one was ever apprehended
for the crime.

Local authorities have always assumed
it was an intrusion by rival drug dealers.

Until Tom took it upon himself to conduct
a one-man, undercover operation...

...at great risk
to his own personal safety.

-He's a civilian?
-Yes, he's a civilian.

How the hell did you pull this off?

You said you saw
one of the perpetrators...

No. I was in the bathroom.

In the house? What about the house?

In the house.

Did you see hair color?

They had masks on. I didn't see...

Forensics found this red hair
on your wife's body.

That's how it started.

We'd stopped for gas
at the Salton Sea.

I had seen a man with red hair.

It was the ring
that drew my attention.

I knew the ring.

-What is it?
-Nothing.

-Why didn't you tell him?
-I wanted to find him myself.

-I wanted to kill him.
-What about the ring?

It was a college ring.

Central Valley.
Where my father once taught music.

I tracked him
to the L.A. Sheriff's Department.

I would have killed him right there,
but I had to be positive.

Even if Morgan was involved,
I had to be sure about Garcetti.

So I became Danny Parker.

Oh, shit!

Son of a bitch!

What the fuck?

I dropped myself
right in their laps.

Morgan.

I was a perfect rat.

I did whatever they wanted,
gave up whoever they asked for.

But I knew I had to go further.

I had to get closer.

I needed a big buyer.
It had to be a perfect setup.

One that I knew they would hit
even if they didn't include me.

-But it never happened.
-That's when he called me.

We had a C.I. call Morgan and Garcetti
with an anonymous tip about it.

Do you believe this weasel-face prick,
trying to pull this off without us?

Motherfucker.

I dumped a dummy file
into the system.

We got the 411 on your boy. Appears
to be a major trafficker in Texas.

Jumped bail
on a murder charge last April.

Murder? Beautiful.

Pumped 57 slugs
into a police informant.

They took the bait
and we were off to the races.

This is bullshit.
This guy's a fucking rat.

How do you know
you're not jamming two good cops?

All you really have is one red hair.
It's still your only evidence.

Not anymore. We tapped their phones
and computers at the sheriff's office.

Morgan and Garcetti
have not filed one report on this deal.

They haven't coordinated with Palmdale
P.D. They're keeping it off the books.

It looks like we got the right guys.

We'll find out for sure tonight.

They called me a fucking rat.
They don't believe me.

Get Pooh-Bear to meet at the Tropic Motel.
Everything will work out fine.

Oh, come on now.
You are doing the right thing.

I don't see you have any choice.

You wouldn't have stood a chance
with those boys.

I need you to do your part.
And I give you my word I'll do mine.

I'm counting on you.

Catch.

It's $10,000.

What I want you to do is worth more,
but it's all I could get.

You only owe me $5,000. That's not till
after we close the deal tonight.

I don't want you to come with me.
I want you to do me a solid, instead.

-Okay.
-Let me tell you what it is first.

It doesn't matter. I'll do it.
And you don't have to pay me.

-Why?
-Like, you're my best friend.

I'd do anything for you.

-Wait.
-Listen.

Are you ready? Come on, be ready.

-Listen.
-Check that out.

-What is that?
-It's you.

Check it out.

I didn't have a picture so
I described you. Good job, right?

You like it?

-It rocks.
-Seriously?

-I know it's a little weird. It's not?
-You're insane.

My God, I will be so fucking A-plus
after tonight. Seriously.

We'll lay out a mile of crank.

You start at that end
and I start at this end.

Jimmy.

-Quit that shit.
-What?

I quit, Jimmy.

I came over here to tell you
I'm going straight and to say goodbye.

What?

Will you sit down?

Look, I'm not a dealer, okay?

Hey, just chill.
Seriously, it's okay, Danny.

I'm not Danny!

I'm sorry. I'm not Danny, okay?
Are you listening?

I'm not Danny Parker.

I became Danny Parker. He's a rat.

I'm not a dealer.

Everything I've ever said to you
is a lie.

I'm a rat.

But I became a rat for a good reason.

-What's the reason?
-I can't tell you.

Why not?

Why not? Because you don't trust me.

-No, Jimmy, no.
-You don't trust me.

Everything, like, everything that
you said is a lie. Right?

And you're not who you say you are.

What the fuck is that?
You don't like me!

No, that's not it.

That's not it.
That's not what I'm saying at all.

You're my friend, okay?

You're my only friend.
I wasn't lying about that.

But all of what I've done
is for this plan, okay?

It didn't work.
I'm just trying to make it right.

I really need your help.

But I understand.

What do you want me to do?

I'm on my last smoke. I gotta
pull over and get some more.

A pack of GCPs.

$2.75.

This is the Red Team.
We're in position.

All right, people, heads up.

-How are you doing, Joe?
-Copy. I have a visual.

Okay, it's all yours.
Keep it safe, please.

-It's about a half-hour till kickoff.
-Pooh-Bear needs a little landscaping.

Any word from Pooh-Bear?

You okay, Hoss?

What in the hell?

Danny told me
to tell you he was sorry...

...and that he was gonna take care
of things himself.

Goddamn it.

Our boy's a 97.

Where is Bubba?

Maybe he's not coming.

Shit.

Danny, what the fuck are you doing?

Where's the money?

Tell me he's got the money.

Yes, our friendly
is definitely handling the cash.

Ready?

Let's do it.

I can't get little piglets
out of my mind.

I think of one in particular
with cutout-crotch panties.

What's happening?

-He's clean.
-It's high card, boy.

We're gonna do a deal?

High card wins, gentlemen.

On three, boys.

-Three. I got a queen of diamonds.
-Shit.

Suicide king of hearts.

-You're the man.
-Yes, I am.

-Need to take a piss.
-All right.

-What are you playing?
-Hole in the head.

Don't you want to play for real money?

-Fucking asshole!
-Skipper, goddamn it! Calm down.

-Get yourself a beer, boy!
-You stupid motherfucker.

He's a little upset there.

Here we go. Look at this.

Look at this here. Good job, Danny.

That's a lot of money there.
Jesus. It's enough to make you weep.

Bill!

Bill, you ought to come in here
and see this!

Bill! It's a hell of a lot of money!

That's just really beautiful.

Hot damn!

Damn it! Shit!

Hell!

When are you gonna go away?

That's okay.
That's how it's gonna be.

That's how I'm going. I'm going.
I could be...

I could be a cowboy
if I only had half a chance.

I'm just on a goddamn rocking horse,
that's all!

That's all right, that's all right.

That's okay.
I know, I'm just a little boy.

That's all.

That's okay.

I'm fine!

Just a little boy on a rocking horse.
Ain't no big thing.

No big thing at all.

I'm gonna be all right.

Jesus.

That's all.

That's all you get, cowboy.

Goddamn!

All clear!

Did we all end at the same time?

It's okay.

It's okay.

Fuck.

Danny.

-My name is Tom.
-God!

-Tom Van Allen.
-Jesus!

Jesus! Okay, okay.

Whatever you say. Whatever you say.

What are you doing? Come on.
Look at me and talk to me.

You're lost. The Salton Sea.

You're in a bathroom.
You're shot in the shoulder.

Your wife is about to be murdered
in the other room by two thieves...

...with ski masks on.

Jesus.

Do you crawl out and die with her?
Do you stay? What do you do?

I don't know.

-Answer the question.
-Oh, God!

-Answer the question.
-I don't know!

-What do you do?
-Jesus.

Do you die?

Or do you fight?

I couldn't have known.

God. I don't know what you want me
to say. I just couldn't have known.

Tell me.

I would...

Please don't do this.

-I'm sorry.
-She was so precious.

-You shouldn't have killed her.
-I'm sorry.

-You shouldn't have done that.
-I didn't know.

You shouldn't have done that.
What do you do?

Does that answer your question?

I fight.

I fight. And I die like a man.

You. You've lived your life like a punk.

You're a coward.

And now you're going to die like one, huh?

Smith .357.

Rubber combat-style grips.

Fixed rear, ramp front sights,
2-inch barrel.

Weighs in at a feather-light 21 ounces.
Eight-round capacity.

Or did I say nine?

Which one is it, mister?
Eight or nine?

It's a pretty big fucking difference,
if you ask me.

It doesn't matter.

-What?
-It doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter. It's too late.

Eight.

My name is Tom Van Allen.

I'm a trumpet player.

No. Your name is Danny Parker.
You're a motherfucking rat.

No!

-What's happening?
-I'll tell you what's happening.

The fucking cops came.
They didn't find shit.

Their fucking rat gave them
the wrong information.

Fuck with the Mexicali boys,
that's what you get.

Domingo figured you were the one
that ratted on him. Guess what?

I brought a fucking rat of my own.

You set me up?

Man, that fucking bitch played you
like a squeezebox, Romeo.

-They've got my daughter.
-She had no fucking choice, man.

She took a good beating for you.
I've seen men crack after half of that.

-I'm so sorry.
-One tough bitch you got there, huh?

-It's okay.
-I'm so sorry.

It's okay. It's okay.

Let's go.

-I'm so sorry. I'm sorry.
-Now!

Let him burn, bitch.

So who am I?

Who am I after all is said
and done?

Tom Van Allen or Danny Parker?

Avenging angel
or plain old Judas?

I don't know.

You decide.

I'm too tired.

You decide.

Oh, shit, what is this?

Am I dead?

Linoleum?

This must be hell.

Oh, no, what a clich�.

I've had some time to think about it
and it's pretty simple after all.

I think it's like the man said,
"Man is the measure of all things. "

I should know. I ran the gamut.

Tom Van Allen got his revenge.
Good for Tom.

And Danny Parker? He got gut-shot
for being a lowlife rat.

That sucks for him.

As far as I'm concerned,
they're both dead.

So who is this guy?

Tell you the truth,
I still don't know.

But I like his chances.

I really like his chances.

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