All language subtitles for Eating Cars (2021)

Exterior, beach, day.

Max looks upon the overwhelming idea

that this is the Pacific Ocean.

All right, my flock,
let's continue to focus

that energy on picturing
yourself invisible.

Picture this moment right now,

but picture yourself not in it.

Good.

Now, I want you to focus
on a particular part

of your body, maybe your hand,

and picture that part of your body,

maybe your hand, becoming invisible.

Good.

Now open that energy to your entire body.

And we're gonna do that for a while.

Interior,
night, Max's car, stopped.

Max opens her eyes and eats
a candy bar in the dark.

Holy schnikes, I thought
I'd never stop peeing.

At this point, I think it'd be healthier

for you to go back to smoking.

I am gonna really miss
these nights with you, DeeDee.

Why, are you going somewhere?

No, just.

Okay, all right, let's get this over with.

Could you turn off your
damn high beams, asshole?

You can do this one on
your own, if you want.

I'll stay here with the
stuff until you signal.

You sure?

I don't really feel like making chitchat

with a buncha dope heads.

Okay, but if anything goes down.

You just flash the signal,
and I will be out there

full steam eddy with a gun up their ass.

Fuck.

How was it?

Good.

Will you come back next week?

I'm afraid not.

I'm heading east today.

Where east?

I'm from Baltimore.

Delaware.

All the way then?

Yeah, my mom is sick,
like deathbed sick.

So I'm gonna go take care of her.

I'm sorry to hear about your mother,

but I'm glad she has a
daughter as kind and caring

as you are to take care of her.

I'm not even her favorite.

That's the real kick in the nuts.

Oh hold on.

Do you want, um,

do you want one?

Does it look like I want one?

Are you more in the Christmas spirit?

I don't think so.

No worries.

Namaste.

Exterior, Everett's backyard
in the Hollywood Hills.

Everett stops tending his
vegetables at the sight

of the white brick on his table.

For you. And Robbie.

Now what is that?

Should I even ask where you got this?

You know what it is,
and no you shouldn't.

All right, well, I'll
put it somewhere safe.

You want a beer?

They're inside. Help yourself.

No, I quit.

Quit?

Oh, those are worse than anything.

Can you clean these off for me?

I hate beets.

They really taste like dirt.

So what's your plan for
when you get back home?

Watch my mom die.

Now don't be morbid.

I could say take care of her, but,

look, when I get down to
it, I'm gonna watch her die.

And I'm gonna make sure that she dies

as comfortably as possible.

However the fuck I'm supposed
to do that. I have no clue.

Honestly, I'm guessing it's a lot of

soup and pillow fluffing.

You gotta do it, though.

Do I, Ev?

Do I really?

What does it say about
me when my first instinct

is to run the fuck away to
a cabin in the mountains

and not show my face until I
know that she's good and gone,

so that I don't have to deal with it?

I think everyone has
those split-second thoughts,

but you'd never actually do it.

Why not?

I've been known to be a
selfish asshole before.

Just ask Megan, if you can find her.

Still no luck?

No.

Well, she's bound to
show up sooner or later.

I mean, how long have
you two known each other?

And how many end-of-the-world, knockdown,

dragout fights have you had?

Too long and too many.

See, you're perfect for each other.

She's never been gone this long, though.

I don't know, I really
screwed up this time.

It couldn't have been that bad.

It wasn't my finest hour.

It wasn't hers either, but still.

She changed her number.

She's never done that before.

She basically vanished.

Does your mom have a garden?

Mm, she got a little backyard,

about the size of what you got here.

Well when you get back
and you get settled,

you should start one if there's room.

It'll keep you calm.

Keeps me calm.

Keeps me from thinking
about my surroundings,

where my next gig's coming from,

how the last one almost destroyed me.

This is just you and your two hands

digging holes and planting life.

My last job, it almost killed me.

I was working 80-hour weeks,
working through my lunch,

and all I could think
about was buying a farm

in the middle of nowhere
and becoming a farmer.

As he talks, we see it.

Acres of land sprawled out
behind a beautiful red barn

and a giant white house
with a wraparound porch.

Even a goddamn dog laying at the feet

of an unknown farmer rocking
in his rocking chair.

You know, I think at my age,
my priorities have changed.

Maybe raising chickens
and planting veggies

is what I'm supposed to be doing.

And then we see rows and rows

of planted tomatoes.

The unknown farmer inspects his crops.

You know, Meg and I used to
get this cabin up in Carmel

whenever the two of us
both had a free weekend.

Amongst the majestic and
towering trees, a secluded cabin.

No other people in sight,
just how it should be.

It was really small.
It was just one room.

And the bed was up this small ladder

under a slanted roof,
so you couldn't sit up.

And if you rolled too far to the left,

you'd fall 10 feet to the floor.

And the bathtub was out on the porch.

And the road, it was this
long, winding, gravelly road

that you could only travel by foot.

And then we see gravel road.

Max and Megan, wagons filled
with groceries and suitcases.

But the owners had left
these small, kiddie red wagons

down at the bottom of the hill

so that we could haul
our stuff up with them.

And then we see Max and Megan.

They make love in the outdoor
tub, with only the lights

from inside the cabin illuminating them.

Above them, nothing but trees and stars.

The cabin and the solitude
along with Megan, it just,

it always made me kinda
second guess that maybe

I just picked the wrong
fucking career choice.

But it's too late now.

I don't know how to do anything else.

And when you think about
it, the one thing that I did

devote myself to doing,
I failed at that too, so

what does that tell you about
how big of an idiot I am?

All right, these good enough?

Good enough.

All right.

I don't know.

I don't think I have it
in me anymore, you know.

You stay out here long enough,
you start to just become

that sad, pathetic old bag, you know,

just chasing a fucking pipe dream.

And, the longer that I
stay out here, the sadder

and more pathetic I become,

and that might be worse than anything.

I know you're moving back
east, but you can still write.

There's no rule saying
you gotta be out here.

Why can't I let it go, though?

I mean, you're talking about giving it up

and going to live on a damn farm.

And you're successful.

Oh, data wrangling is not successful.

Oh really? I deliver
drugs and do CC work.

See, you work in TV?

Get the fuck outta here.

And famous people need their drugs.

Oh, God, the last thing
those cats wanna hear

from their delivery
chick when they're buying

large quantities of delivered drugs

is my pitch for the
Streets of Fire reboot.

Well maybe you're doing it
wrong, because I'd totally be

into a Streets of Fire reboot
while chipping my nuts off.

Maybe I am doing it wrong.

Okay, I should get outta here.

I gotta finish packing up my stuff.

You will always have
friends and a place to stay

out here, you know that.

I know.

Anytime, middle of the
night, you call us up

and we'll have clean sheets
ready in the guestroom.

Thank you.

Hey, say goodbye to Robbie for me.

I really wanted to catch her,

but I'm just behind schedule as it is.

I'll walk you out.

Thank you.

Interior, Max's car, driving, day.

Her phone is ringing.

Hits speaker on phone,
doesn't say anything.

Uh, Max?

Yeah.

It's DeeDee, what's going on, man?

What you mean, girl?

What you mean what you mean, girl?

You tore off with the
goods and left me with two

supremely creepy and
pissed off dope smokers.

Do you not realize who these people are

and what they're capable of?

DeeDee, it's been really
fun making deliveries with you

and everything, but I just had to split.

I am sorry that it was
on your watch and all,

but good luck with the
little script and everything.

Thanks, it just made the blacklist.

I gotta go, DeeDee.

Max, you know they kill people.

And my dad told me I should

bring these out to you.

He said to me to tell
you that you'd like them

so much that you'd like
to clean your plates.

Umm.

Interior, Max's apartment, day.

Max loads up her car.

Yeah, I'm packing up now, Mom.

Not too much, um.

I sold slash gave away most of it, so.

No, no, I got plenty.

No, no, besides, you don't
have any money anyway.

Hey, is your nurse there?

Okay, how long has she been there?

Okay, all right, you all right then, did?

I said, are you good then, Mom?

Mom, hey.

Mom, can you turn down.

Can you turn down the v-

No, no, I don't wanna know what's on.

I just want you to turn
down the volume on it.

Yes, yes, I know, I know.

The commercials are always louder.

Yeah, they do that for the old people, so.

No, but it's true, Mom.

Can you turn it down?

That's better.

Okay, well, I'm sorry to tell you, Mom,

but you're fucking old.

Don't act like you're a
prude all of a sudden.

Yeah, yeah, Regina's coming.

Yeah, we buried the hatchet and made up.

Yes, it had been a while since we talked,

but you know, we did it for you.

Yeah, I think we realized
that all of our issues

were pretty petty, compared to the actual

serious shit like your health and.

Hey, don't start crying, you big baby.

Okay, hey, listen, just
need to stay strong

for a few more days, and
then we're all gonna be

together like you wanted, and we-

Hey, Mom, I'm gonna let you go, okay?

Yeah, go get your rest.

I need to just get a few more things done

before I can head out.

I think I can hit the road by tonight,

tomorrow morning at the latest.

But I'm gonna try to get the fuck outta-

Sorry, get outta Dodge by sundown,

but I gotta stop by the
office and finish off

a few more things, get that
final paycheck and then.

Yes, and then pick up Regina, of course.

Okay.

Yeah, hey, just promise me you won't talk

to her for too long.

Yeah, you really need your rest

and you're gonna be
seeing us soon enough, so.

Okay, all right, yeah, I'll
call you from the road.

And, hey, I'll be seeing you
and knocking on your door

in just a few days' time.

Yeah, four at the most.

All right, love you too, Mom, bye.

Interior, Max's car, driving.

Day, Max drives.

She grabs a candy bar from her bag,

unwraps it and takes a big old bite.

What up, Austin?

Didn't think you were
gonna make it in today.

Yeah, traffic, and all that shit.

You know how it is.

Yeah, I do know how it is,

which is why I leave early enough

to make it to work on time.

Make sense?

Yeah, yeah, no, it sure does.

And I just, I can't seem to get going

before a certain hour, I have no idea why.

I go to bed at like nine.

Really? Because it smells
like you've been up all night.

It just must be my
natural musk, I guess.

Well you're natural musk
smells like deep-fried butthole.

Clean yourself up tomorrow
before you come in,

like an adult.

Yes, yes, will do, Boss.

You gonna have that
file ready for me today?

Yeah, I got like another hour.

Good, I need to deliver by EOD.

You're gonna have it by lunchtime.

Good.

Ooh.

Through the window, Max
sees Nadine cross the street

toward the less than five-star motel.

Nadine goes to the
second floor of the motel,

fishes out keys from her
giant bag and enters her room.

That's fucking tasty.

I haven't had one of
these since grade school.

Oh, was this?

Come on, don't be like that.

Just get another one from the fridge.

No one will know.

It's fun not doing what
you're supposed to be doing.

Am I right?

My mom again.

God, her voicemails are
always so rambly pambly.

God, being sick hasn't
zapped her of her ability

to ramble about the
fucking most random things.

Like, okay, she called because she can't

seem to get a hold of Regina, oops.

But now she's on a tirade about some

turkey fest in the Ozarks.

Okay, and how they drop
the turkeys from the plane

and how that is such a waste of resources

and the turkeys don't
deserve such treatment.

Think of the turkeys,
yes, she just said that.

Oh, man, I guess this is what she

and my sis talk about for hours.

Pfft.

You enjoy that lunch, man.

Hey, what's up?

Oh, hey.

Hey, I finished that file and I sent it

off like 10 minutes ago.

I don't need
to go over it, do I?

Your work solid when
it comes to this show?

Rock solid, pal.

Yeah, you can just send it
right off to the client.

All right, good.

Give me a few minutes, and
I'll get you something else.

Yeah, you know what, you
take your time, buddy boy.

I'm just gonna step outside and, you know,

get some fresh air, all that nonsense.

What the hell are you
doing eating my lunch, Tony?

Come in.

It's gonna have to be a quickie.

I was due back at work
like 10 minutes ago.

So what's it gonna be?

Foot fetish, horsey ride.

Nadine, stop smoking that weed.

Max, what the hell?

Oh my God, I have always wondered

what you do on your long breaks.

Don't worry, I won't say nothing.

Thanks.

Do you want some?

Mm, no. No, I quit.

Do you have any candy?

No, I don't think so.

That's all right.

So, this is where the magic happens.

Some might say.

I would say. I am pretty magical.

Okay, well, fill me in on all this

magic the gathering shit going on here.

Well, every
day at this time I have

a slot on a website where I perform.

Perform, huh?

Yeah, perform.

I mean, sometimes it's
just some straight-up

missionary position sex, but
other times, I'm dominated.

Sometimes I dominate, and
sometimes I just ride him

around the room like a horsey with a GoPro

strapped to my boobs.

Do you have that video?

Wouldn't you like to know?

That's why I asked.

No.

Okay, I'll look it up later.

Oh, you know what?

There might be a candy bar in there.

But you might not wanna eat it.

Think I just found it.

Yep, that's it.

I don't wanna know where this has been.

Or do I?

You don't.

Okay.

You know, my whole
life I've been told that

to be a truly creative person,
I need to have experience.

Whatever the fuck that means.

Exactly, so I sit around
waiting for that phone call

from Hollywoodland that everybody wants.

That's exactly what I'm getting
in the meantime, experience.

I mean, and a girl's gotta pay her rent.

Preach, sister.

I mean, in the grand scheme of things,

am I really doing anything that terrible?

I'm not a murderer, I'm not
a racist, I don't do drugs.

Hard drugs.

And everybody I deal with are fine,

upstanding, consenting adults.

And some of us
are just horsing around.

Really?

Sorry.

Okay, well, you convinced me.

When can I book some time?

You just did.

This conversation's
costing you a pretty penny.

Oh shit.

Okay.

Well, I have to get something out of this.

Do you know anyone who might
be interested in buying

like a large quantity of
drugs for sorta super cheap?

Mm.

Oh, did you try Guy?

He loves buying large quantity of drugs,

especially for super sorta cheap.

Oh, I don't think he's here today,

but I can get his number for you.

Dammit, no no, no no no, it's all right.

We've hung out a couple
times outside work.

Yeah, he and Meg were old college chums.

Is Meg your girl?

Was.

Yeah?

Yeah.

What's he want?

Okay, send him up in like two.

Thanks.

I thought you had to get back.

They won't notice.

Okay, well, thank you
for the talk and everything.

No problem. Max?

Yeah?

No, jerk.

Oh fuck, I'm sorry.

Okay.

Um.

That's all I got.

Good enough.

That is my motto. Good enough.

Okay.

Exterior, motel, Max
dodges traffic and dials.

Hey, this is Guy, leave me a message.

Or not, I don't give a beep!

Hey, Guy, it's Max.

Listen, I've got something that I was told

you'd be interested in.

Give me a call super quick.

I really need to unload it fast, okay.

Yeah, we'll talk about it when we meet up.

Do you want
me to take these plates or?

Yeah?

Hey, it's Max.

You got any time?

When?

Right now, or
as close to right now

as you can get.

I just had a cancellation.

I'm just down here banging
away at Fish Tales.

Heading to you right now.

Okay, see you in a few.

Interior, arcade, day.

Lights, buzzers, silver balls, tilts.

Multi balls, hands on flippers.

Quarters falling in the change machine.

This is my last session.

I'm heading back east, tonight hopefully.

Is it your mom?
Is she that bad off?

I'm taking my sister to see her too.

Oh, watch the gutter.

Ah, yep, thank you.

Well that's, I mean
that's really good, Max.

We've talked a lot about
her in the last sessions

about how you've got a lot of anxiety

about finally meeting her.

Thinking that she might
hurt you in some way.

Yeah.

And so they were just that?

Thoughts in your head?

Stories running rampant in your mind.

Yeah, except that she
showed up at my front door

and tried to shoot me in the face,

but other than that, watch the gutter.

What'd you say?

I said watch the gutter because of that.

Max, you're being serious right now?

Max?

I mean, luckily, I've been
like super paranoid lately,

so when she showed up, you know,

I'd gotten a gun and I was ready for her.

I don't know what to...

So then I shot her in the face.

It's okay, I mean, I feel pretty good.

Really, considering.

Max, you have to tell the police.

Unless, you're not serious?

They'll figure it out.

I mean, the police are
really smart people, right?

So, besides, it's not exactly
like I'm trying to hide it.

She's in my trunk for Chrissakes.

I just need a little bit of time to tie up

a few loose ends, and hopefully I can just

avoid them until then, you know.

It shouldn't be that hard.

I mean, that fucking
Eileen Warnos in training

has no job and no friends,
and the only person

that she ever talked to was Mom.

Max, one more time.

Last chance, you are messing with me?

Max, you're playing a sick
joke on me, right, Max?

Tell me that you're
playing a sick joke on me.

What the hell, Max?

What?

What do you want me to
do? Okay, it's done.

I can't unshoot her in the face.

You're not human.

Watch the multiple ramp.

Got it.

Okay, Max, one last time, just tell me

that you're playing a joke on me.

No.

Max, you're not serious, Max.

Max?

What's up?

You are messing with me.

No.

Okay, Max, I have to report this.

Why?

This is not exactly a
legit session, is it?

Max.

What?

She was a fucking bully, okay.

Really, a piece of shit,
nobody's gonna miss her.

That is not the point.

Well it should be.

Fuck.

All right.

All right, all right, you wanna talk?

Let's talk.

Let's talk about how
sometimes I think that my life

would be a whole lot easier
if I had a fucking disability.

Just a little one.

Nothing like too major, but, you know.

Maybe a little bit of the old Down's.

Or maybe if my dad had punched me

one too many times in the head

and scrambled my brains just a little bit

too much, you know.

Just enough to like me
a little off, a touch.

Just so that I could
still appreciate things.

Why would you want that?

I would be innocent to everything.

Everybody would be my friends.

You don't think that
people with disabilities

have a hard time?

No, I have no doubt that every day

is an enormous struggle for them.

But, they have a group
of people who are there

to support them at all times.

If I need to call in someone
for help, I'm considered weak,

needy, if anybody even bothers to answer.

But if I'm a little bit slow,

just a little bit
scrambled eggs in the head,

then I get a lot of compassion
and understanding and

bless her heart and
God love her, you know.

And I can go on disability and play RPGs

all day at the local comic shop.

Or, or I could just, I could
get a job bagging groceries

and be perfectly content with that.

You don't believe that.

You're trying to be hateful,
but it doesn't suit you.

I wish that were true,

but I've had this realization.

Yeah?

And I'm not a very nice person.

Not human. You just said.

If you could look into
my brain, you would run

the other way so goddam fast
it would turn your hair white.

We all have those thoughts, Max.

But the fact that you're
not acting on them, right?

The fact that you feel remorse about them,

even a little bit, shows
that you're not as bad

of a person, or horrible of a
person as you think you are.

I don't know.

I mean, my thoughts get pretty dark.

Plus I just murdered my sister.

Tell me about that.

You still
think I'm making it up.

Tell me what happened.

Okay, so I was taking a
break from boxing up my stuff.

And like weeks before I'd
had this strange feeling

like someone was watching
me, right, like following me.

And I hadn't spoken to her in years,

but my mom had been talking to her.

And she mentioned she'd
just moved out here,

and that gave me this really uneasy,

queasy feeling, like a sense of dread.

Like any day she was just
gonna show up at my door,

and I, I don't know what.

Why would you think that?

Because, she is a fucking cunt.

Bullied me my whole life, beat me up,

tortured me, told people
that she was an only child.

I mean, my God, I couldn't
imagine any scenario

where there was gonna be hugs

and goodwill exchanged, you know.

So, I said, fuck me.

And I took a couple of deep breaths,

and I slowly grabbed the doorknob,

and when I yanked open the door,

well, you see where this is going.

Dammit.

Okay, tell me, did anyone
hear the shots? Did anyone...

Hold on, hold on.

Hey, Max, I'm definitely interested in

what you think I'd be interested in.

Come to my house, posthaste, my lady.

Text me when you're on your way.

Peace.

I'm sorry, you were saying?

Did anyone hear the shots,

or did anyone see anything?

Not that I know of.

Why?

You still think I'm making it up.

I don't.

I have her body right outside

in the trunk, if you wanna see it.

No, I'm good.

Ooh.

Max, I think we're done.

For the day.

Okay.

Okay, well, it's been, um.

Have a good trip home, Max.

Yep.

And don't kill anyone on
your way out, psychopath.

Hey, if anybody's on
Haunted House, I got next.

Hey, I'm outside your
apartment. Where are you at?

Oh, hey, I'm actually not there.

I'm at the Batcade, hitting some balls.

Okay.

Off your mom's chin.

Hey, get back here, you daffy bitch.

Who the fuck are you
calling a daffy bitch,

you daffy bastard?

Oh, hey.

Ah!

Whoa.

Whoa.

Can I sample?

You're buying. You can
do whatever you want.

Ah, ah ah, I'm not buying yet.

Oh horseshit, come on, you'll buy it.

I'll bet you Greek.

I'll take that.

Okay.

You see?

I can see, for miles.

I want this.

It's yours.

Great.

Now, where did you get this stuff?

Don't you normally deliver it?

Not anymore.

So, this is somebody else's drugs then?

I mean.

Look, I don't care. I'm still buying.

I just, you know, wanna
know if I need to bury it

in a deep, dark hole
somewhere or something.

Uh, yeah, yeah, I would say so.

It's such a large quantity.

I'd say the darker and the
deeper the hole is probably best.

Yeah, right.

Man, I do love me some shady dealings.

All right.

Well let's deal some shadiness then, okay,

because you owe me Greek and my tummy's

growling like an angry alley cat.

Why does it feel like I'm more worried

about these drugs than you are?

I don't know.

Hummus trumps safety.

Okay, I'm gonna go get some money

and we'll go get our tzatziki on.

Heads up.

Okay.

What, you're not gonna count it?

No, even if you shorted
me, what am I gonna do?

Take the drugs to Delaware?

You might need to. You're
moving to Delaware and all.

How dare you?

Okay, look.

Come on, let's go.
Daddy is getting hangry.

Yo.

You're not gonna stash this?

No, we're gonna be gone
for like a few minutes.

Okay, well, like draw
a blind or something.

Oh, now who's worried.

They always forget the pop.

Exterior, suburbs, day.

Guy and Max walk down the street.

Guy tells a very elaborate
and animated story.

Max listens, but we don't hear.

Instead, we hear-

- Have you seen Meg lately?

No, last time I saw her
was Crab's birthday party.

You know, I've known Meg for a long time.

That girl can hold a grudge,
but this seems a bit much.

Yeah, but you didn't
see the whole thing.

I mean, it started at the
party and then it continued

into the car and the apartment.

Yeah, I don't think
you actually ever told me

what happened afterwards.

Well, you saw the beginning.

Flashback, interior
Crabtree's kitchen, night.

Max pours a shot for Megan.

She downs it without hesitation.

This is our first time witnessing

Megan living and breathing.

And she's a fucking firecracker.

Pour me another.

What kind of mischief are
you mischief makers making?

Oh, just a little bit of drunk mischief.

Man, we found this bottle of hooch.

Expensive.

It's nice hooch.

And Crabtree was trying to
fucking hide it from us.

So we're gonna drink it all.

I can get behind that.

A toast.

To, uh.

To go fucking ourselves, I guess so.

Hey, you keep
an eye out for Crabs.

Oh, do we know where he's at?

He's in the backyard sweating Tara.

He's been on that shit since college.

Don't tell Steph.

No doubt.

I've been on that shit since high school.

Okay, good luck.

She's hot as shit, and word
is that she doesn't have

any interest in sexual encounters.

Well, I don't care.

Ask Meg how many times I've tried

and how many times I've listened.

Her tits are such a waste.

What are you...

Because she's
got really nice titties.

You said so yourself.

Yeah, I can say that
because she is my friend.

Oh my God.

Okay, all right, can we forget her?

Let's just finish this
up, we're almost done.

Go to hell.

What?

Meg?

Baby?

Interior, Steph's bedroom.

Max finds Megan digging
through Steph's drawers.

Megan pulls out some lacy underwear.

Steph even has
nicer underwear than me.

Nice.

She throws the underwear at her.

Max catches them.

These would look good on you.

Shut up.

Max holds them up to Megan.

No, I'm serious.

Hey, come here.

Oh my God, just give me a break.

Meg slams the drawer shut.

So is this still
about the titty remark?

Just because you
and I talk about Tara's tits

doesn't mean you can go
talk to Guy about them.

Meg sits on the bed.

Max stays near the dresser.

Look, we've both
had a lot to drink, okay.

We're just saying things.

Things?

You mean things that
we're actually thinking

but we don't say until
we're nice and lubricated,

those kind of things?

Wow, we really shouldn't
hit the bottle so hard.

You know, we used to have
a nice time together.

Now all we do is fight.

Fight, oh, is this a fight?

Yeah, always.

I thought I was just
calling you out on your shit.

Yeah, that's all you do anymore

is call me out on my shit.

Can we please just go?

Sure.

I don't like these people anyway.

Megan's had enough, storms out.

Max pockets the underwear
and takes a breather.

From offscreen we hear

a girl fight.

Max races out of the room to discover.

You fucking bitch.

Get the fuck off me.

You love it when I do this.

Hm?

I'm not even touching you.

I hate that song.

You hate every song.

That's because all
new music sucks anymore.

Are you sure it's the music's fault?

Are you saying that I suck?

No, Meg, I'm not saying that you suck.

Okay, never mind, never mind.

Awesome.

Later, Max and Megan's apartment.

You call me Tara,
and I'll call you Crabtree.

What?

You know you want to.

No.

Call me Tara.
I'll call you Crabtree.

Megan, stop, it's not funny.

No?

I think it's downright hilarious.

Yeah, run away, run away like a pussy

like you always fucking do.

Oh, oh, you wanna see a pussy?

Hell, yeah.

Max.

You're fucking insane!

Max, come on.

I'm sorry.

Come on, open up.

Max.

Come on. I won't do it again.

Hi, Officers, can I help you?

Are you Megan Sayles?

Yeah, why?

We got a call from this residence

about a possible domestic violence.

Is there anyone else in the apartment?

Yes.

Max, what is this?

Ma'am, can you turn around,

put your hands behind your back?

What, are you serious?

Mm.

Next stop Willoughby.

That was the last time I ever saw her.

I mean, I went to bail
her out and she was gone.

I will never forget that look.

Mm, good stuff, man.

Oh, sorry.

No, this,

it's good stuff, that sucks, yeah.

Did you try calling
around, Crabtree or Tara?

Well, not Tara.

Nobody's heard from her.

Or at least that's what
they're telling me.

Yeah, I keep like stopping
by our old haunts,

hoping maybe she'll show up, you know.

Like every couple weeks, I'll
go to her old dance class.

Right.

She used to
take tap at this studio

over on Magnolia, and I'm
thinking maybe I'll run into her.

Mm-hm.

Sad as shit, man.

Hey, are you gonna finish that?

Thank you.

Could I get a box for this?

Box.

Thank you.

Exterior. Guy's neighborhood.

Guy carries a to-go box.

Max craves a fucking candy
bar and would kill two

of you assholes to have one.

So, you heading straight for the border?

I think I might check in on Meg's

dance class one last time.

Mm.

Well, good luck with that, I guess.

And, oh, thanks for the drugs.

Enjoy.

Hey, come on.

Let me get one last
whiff, you smelly bastard.

Okay.

Yeah, that's good.

That's really good.

Oh, I'm going to eat the
living pita out of you

once we get in there.

Mm.

Uh, who the fuck are you guys?

The reckoning.

Oh, please.

What's in the container?

It's yours.

Everything is ours.

Okay, come on guys, look.

If I knew this was your boss' stash,

I woulda told Max to just go away.

Come on, you gotta believe
me for Christ sakes.

To hell with that chick.
I barely even know her.

I hardly like her.

Look, she's going to some
dance studio on Magnolia,

to look for her ex, Meg.

Megan.

Shut it or I cut it.

He said kill them all.

Oh, God, please no, please!

Fatality.

I used to dance.

Sorry, what was that?

I used to dance.

What was that again?

Jesus, I said I used to dance.

I'm too old now.

I'm Bernice.

I bet you could cut a mean rug.

Oh, don't be daft.

I'm hold as hell, but I
still enjoy watching others.

See that girl there?

She your niece or something?

She's attractive, isn't she?

Yeah.

I enjoy watching them dance,

especially the young, pretty ones.

I bet you would have
blown her away in the looks

department when you were her age.

Stop messing with me, girl.

Do you know Esther Williams?

Not personally, no.

But yeah, she did the
water-dancing pictures, right.

She dropped acid.

Get outta here.

Cary Grant turned her on to it.

Wild, did you ever do acid, Bernice?

Yes, but that's not
where I'm going with this.

Where are you going then, girl?

Shut your mouth and
I'll tell you.

Well I first saw Esther
Williams in Bathing Beauty.

And when I saw her dive
into that beautiful,

crystal-clear blue water, and
all those gorgeous dancers

in rows and rows all around
in perfect harmony, I.

Oh my, I started saving my
money right then and there.

By the time Thrill of a
Romance had come out, well,

I was on a Greyhound heading through Texas

on my way to Hollywoodland.

How was it when you got out here?

Well, after I got settled
in with a couple other girls

in an apartment near Hollywood and Vine,

I went on a lot of auditions.

And went out on a lotta dates.

But I don't know, somehow
I could just not get

my tap-dancing, water-balleting
foot in the door, so

I started waitressing to make ends meet.

And I've been making ends meet
now for just about 50 years

at the same greasy spoon.

I'm old enough to retire,

but what the hell else would
I do except die faster?

Look at her.

She's been dancing there for a while.

So much heart.

So much hope.

Not disenchanted by the
whole business of life yet.

Eventually she'll get it, and she'll stop.

And she'll stop coming.

And some other young
person will take her place.

And over and over and over,
until I eventually drop dead.

Hopefully right on this spot.

I gotta use the ladies' room.

Number one or number two?

A lady never tells.

Well I aint no lady, Bernice.

Bye, Bernice.

Oh, bye, honey.

Aw.

Thanks for the company and
for the sweet sweet treat.

My pleasure, Bernice.

Would you like another?

Okay.

Bernice, do you see
those ladies over there?

Why, yes dear, I see them all.

Max, I want you to focus
on becoming invisible.

Good.

Now open up that energy
to your entire body.

Good.

Good.

This was fun.

See you soon, Bernice.

Bye, dear.

Max, what are you doing?

Meg, what are you doing here?

What are you doing here?

Looking for you. I was
just at your dance class.

No you weren't. I just got done.

No, that doesn't make any sense.

I was just...

Tapmatics?

This one. Dance, Dance, Baby.

I go to the one across the street.

And you've never been to this one?

No, it's too expensive.

Been going there since we were together.

Huh.

Those gals with you?

Sorta. Meg, I need to talk to you.

So talk. Here's just
as good a place as any.

Hm-mm, mm-mm.

Could you give me a ride
and we can talk later?

Please, Meg.

Don't call me that.

Megan, okay, I promise you I will be

outta your life forever.

Okay, fine, let's just go.

Thank you, Meg, Megan.

Hey, Meg.

Megan.

Megan.

Hey, Steve, what's up?

Really?

Okay, uh.

Yeah I mean, it's just more
than 10 days straight, so.

Yeah, okay, yeah, I'm the
new girl so I get screwed

when it comes to shifts and
hours and shit like that.

Uh-huh.

Just means I have to get drunk as fast

as humanly possible, starting now.

All right, peace, bye.

Work?

Where you working these days?

Can you do me a favor and get in my bag

up there, in the top, there's a mini.

Sure.

Oh my God, Jesus Christ, dude.

Um, I'm working on it.

Okay, work harder.

Oh, got it.

Oh, should I, you want me to open it?

Holy fuck.

Here.

I would have offered you
some, but I don't like you.

It's okay.

I'm good. I actually
don't drink anymore, so.

Good for you.

Megan, I...

What are you doing?

I'm sorry. Habit.

Put it back, I like that song.

I thought you hated all new music.

Happy?

Not even remotely.

Super, later in Pasadena,
interior, apartment.

Living room.

Closeup of pictures on a
wall of unknown happy couple

as they pose in front of
well nose, well-know, tour.

God dammit.

As they pose in front of
well-known tourist attractions.

Grand Canyon, Stonehenge, Disneyland,

world's largest chair.

Wider, Max studies the pictures,

scopes out the fully decorated

and clearly lived-in apartment.

From upstairs the shower stops running.

Looking to steal?

Looking for something sweet.

Probably not gonna find it.

These people hike for fun.

Besides, it looks like you
could lay off the sweets.

Ha ha.

I don't trust you with glassware, so.

I don't drink, so.

Shame.

So how long you been living here?

House sitting.

Just since last week.

Until then, crashing on couches.

So who's place is this then?

One of my managers at my
sweet new job at Whole Foods.

Her husband's a grip, so
she took some time off

to go hang with him in
Hotlanta while he's filming.

And I told her about my current situation,

so she took pity on me and here I am.

Whole Foods, huh?

Well, it's not delivering drugs,

but it pays the bills, as they say.

What about you?

Are you still living at our, at the,

the old place?

Yeah.

Or well I was, but, um,

Mom's sick.

She's like dying, so I'm gonna go

take care of her and then just stay there.

I'm done with here.

Never were a team player, were you?

Well, you know, the team
kinda sucked, didn't it?

Was it the team?

What you saying?

Maybe you didn't suck, you know,

but maybe you weren't that great, either.

Now you tell me.

I'm not a monster.

I couldn't tell you that
when we were together,

because it woulda broken your
heart, but now I don't care.

Oh.

To the fucking monsters then.

Ah, so you do think I'm a monster?

Not you, no, I mean us.

The human race, we're all just disgusting,

cannibalistic, bottom-feeding monsters.

What?

What, it's in our DNA, okay.

So calling someone a monster
is not really an insult.

It's just, you know, like the truth.

Okay, like you're only human, you know.

Same thing as, you're a monster.

Why thank you.

The Blob should be insulted

at the idea of being
called a fucking monster.

The Blob is the Blob.

Okay, it does what it
does. It's called the Blob.

It is a fucking blob and
it fucking eats everything.

Simple.

Mm-hm.

Why be angry with it when it eats you?

That's its nature.

It's not lying to your face one second

and then turning around and stabbing you

in the back the next second.

You know, it's like, it wants
to eat you and you know it.

And it knows it, so don't
be surprised when it does.

That's what makes us worse.

We think that we're better
than something like the Blob,

or Freddy, or Jason.

Or like the Thing.

Well, okay, the Thing,
the Thing's behavior

is actually closer to our behavior,

but that's because it mimics us, right.

So like the Thing's
actually just an asshole

because it's imitating humans.

That and eating worlds.

Yeah, but you know that already.

Me, if I eat your world,

I'm gonna take you out for drinks

and say really nice things to you.

And roofie you, rape you
and then eat your world.

You're bonkers.

Yeah, but the point is that
I'm just embracing what it is

that we've been placed on
this Earth to do, right?

Like be a race of giant fucking assholes

and just screw each other over and over

and get screwed over and
over on a daily basis.

And I can't keep up.

So I'm dropping out.

I'm gonna go home to my
mom, take care of her.

Get a job there, like
something with the least amount

of responsibility and pressure.

And fucking use of brain power.

Spend my days watching movies and

reading and listening to music.

And I'll take smoking up
and drinking again all day,

until I have a heart
attack in like five years.

And not giving a shit about
this world or anyone in it.

Except your mom.

No.

You know what I meant.

I don't really give a
shit about her, either.

But she'll be dead soon
enough, so it's like,

what's a couple of weeks
of taking care of her?

It was her last wish to see
my sister and me together,

so it's like literally
the least I could do.

You mean, you guys made up or?

No.

No.

No.

I shot her in the face.

She's in the trunk of my car.

It's true.

Sure.

It's true.

I went to her fucking monster-in-training

one-bedroom apartment
and knocked on the door,

and when she opened it, I
fucking shot her in the face.

What?

It was like putting down
a lame animal, okay.

She wasn't helping anyone.

She wasn't bettering society.

She was just like taking up space,

you know, both mentally and physically, so

two problems with one bullet.

Well two, okay.

I shot her in the pussy too,
just for the hell of it.

I need a cigarette.

Exterior, night.

Rooftop balcony.

Strung lights give off a warm Cali,

living the good life vibe.

But there's anything but that

as Megan fires up a cigarette.

Megan?

You all right?

Megan?

Can you get out now?

That night,

you never gave me a chance
to apologize to you.

I mean, it probably wouldn't
have made it better, but

after how long we've been together,

you at least owe me that courtesy.

I don't owe you anything, Max.

Well I'm not
leaving until you do, so.

Oh no?

All right, how about if
I call the cops then?

Maybe I still have a gun then.

Threats?

Fuck your threats, fuck
your gun and fuck you.

That night,

you told the cops I hit you, right?

No, no, mm-mm.

You don't get to do that.

Okay, you asked the question,
all right, so let's go.

Let's do this. Let's hash it out.

I'm waiting.

Yeah, yeah, I fucking told
the cops that you hit me.

But I dropped the charges
as soon as you were gone.

That was awfully nice of you.

I still had to stay in
the drunk tank overnight,

which did give me a lot of time to think.

And I've never felt
more alone, or betrayed,

in my entire life.

Sitting in that smelly metal
box, bawling my eyes out,

snot running in my mouth,
blubbering to myself

about how much you hurt me.

Pathetic, right?

I know that I hurt you, Meg,

but you were out of control, okay,

and I'd had too much to drink.

I wasn't even thinking straight.

Cut that shit.

That shouldn't matter.

So, after about three
hours and losing most

of my bodily fluids, I calmed myself down,

and I realized that you would
never truly have my back.

Ever.

And I would never feel
completely comfortable with you.

I'd always be just a little bit guarded.

And I shouldn't have
that in a relationship.

I should be able to do
and say whatever I want

and know that you would have my back.

Even if I'm wrong, you
should have my fucking back.

Within reason.

No, no, I, I should be able to fucking,

to fucking walk down
the street in blackface

and quoting Mein Kampf, and you
should have my fucking back.

You know, I don't think
it's that crazy for someone

who you truly believe is your soulmate.

Now who's talking crazy?

All right, so how about this?

I don't think it's too much to ask

for your girlfriend of over 10 years

to not call the cops on you for something

that you didn't even fucking do.

Looking back now, I wish
I woulda knocked you out.

Least it woulda been worth it then.

And we're back at the infamous night.

Max walks away from Megan,
who's hot on her heels,

swinging them panties around.

Yeah, run away like you
always do, like a fucking pussy!

Oh, you wanna see a fucking pussy?

Hell yeah, think fast.

Oh my, Max, are you okay?

Stop, you're fucking insane.

Max.

Max, come on.

I'm sorry.

Max, come on, please.

Open the door.

Over your fucking pride.

Meg.

Oh my God.

Meg doesn't exist.

Okay?

Megan works at Whole Foods.

Meg was a struggling actress

living with a crappy writer

who delivered drugs and
bellyached all damn day.

Megan works her shifts,

comes home and drinks alone

with the comfort of the
knowledge that when she dies

she will have led a pitiful
and unassuming existence.

But as long as she has her
vodka and her prescription card,

she won't make a fuss no more.

No, don't.

Did you forget something?

Who the hell are you?

Max.

She just left.

You probably walked right past her.

You guys aren't too bright, are you?

What the hell?

I don't know where she is.

I don't know anything.

Interior, rest stop bathroom.

Welcome to colorful Colorado.

It's looking to be another hot fucking day

because the sun is a jerk.

Max pisses, forever.

Oh yeah.

Exterior, rest stop.

Max just walked into a Samurai movie.

Nice sword.

Regina.

Hey, Reggie, your mom's on the phone.

What does she want?

I just sent a check for the month.

Hi, Mom.

How are you doing? Everything okay?

Did you get the check I sent?

No, I haven't heard
from her, not in years.

You know that.

Why, did she call you?

That is terrible.

How are you holding up?

Don't be so hard on yourself.

In some ways, maybe, this is best for her.

Yeah, it is, it is a terrible way to go,

but at least maybe now she'll,

she'll have some sort of peace.

Yeah, you want me to take
care of the arrangements?

Yeah, of course, you want her buried

in the family plot back home, right?

Yeah, I'll get on that. I'll
take care of everything.

Just let me figure out what I need to do,

and I'll get back to you, okay?

Yeah, I'm fine.

Yeah, I.

Look, just be strong.

I will take care of everything,
and I'll see you soon.

Yeah, I love you too, bye.

Is everything okay?

Ugh.

She called to tell me
that my sister's body

was found in a rest stop bathroom

stabbed to death by a Samurai sword.

And the heads of her ex-girlfriend

and best friend were there too.

Jesus, Reg.

Are, are you okay?

Yeah, I'm fine. I am.

I think. I'm fine.

Oh, I haven't seen or spoken to Max

since we had a falling-out over a script.

Eating Cars?

Yeah.

She said she wrote more of it than I did,

and she wanted a cowriting credit

and for her name to be
above mine, and I said, no,

because in actuality she
hadn't written a single word.

I said I'd give her a story
credit or nothing, you know.

She said she wanted
cowriting, and then I told her

to go to hell and I haven't
heard from her since.

And when was that?

Uh, right before I sold it.

You know, I tried to find her.

I called her, she didn't answer,

she changed her phone number.

And I haven't heard anything since.

And your mother too?

Yeah.

She said, as far as she was concerned,

we were both out to get her,

and that we were both dead in her mind.

Yeah, Mom hasn't heard
from her since either.

That is so sad.

I.

I came to terms with not
having a sibling long ago.

I know, I know, but still.

What time is our lunch
meeting with Doug and Silva?

1:30. Eating Cars, the sequel.

Should be interesting.

Any ideas?

Maybe.

But, I need to get a shower.

Join me.