All language subtitles for Sht.and.Champagne.2021.1080p.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H.264-EVO

Provided by explosiveskull
https://twitter.com/kaboomskull

Girl, you're on in five.
Ooh, yeah!

Thank you.

All right,
let's hear it for Debbie!

Debbie! Oh!
All right, ladies and gentlemen,

put your hands together
for tonight's star attraction.

Miss Champagne White!

Oh, work it out, Miss Thing.

Somebody better
get the extinguisher girl,

because you were
on fire tonight.

Thanks, Serge.

Sometimes I think
you're my biggest fan.

Well, I think Rod's got

the market cornered
in that department.

He's got a monopoly
on my heart,

and his assistant manager
discount at Mall-Wart

ain't half bad, either.

Speaking of Rod, he called
for you while you were on stage.

- Really? What he say?
- I'll hold.

What?
Give me the phone, you jerk!

Hi, Rod,
what's with the halftime call?

You want to talk to me
about something?

- Yeah.
- Something really big?

God, Serge, I think
he's gonna pop the question!

Atta girl! Reel him in, hook,
line and sinker.

It's not like that.
We're in love.

Shove off shit-head,
before I call security!

Sorry, darling. Where were we?

What's with all
the attitude Champagne?

Sorry Al, I thought you wanted
them dead beats

with a hollow leg
and a wedding ring

banging my door down for
some private dancing lessons.

The mouth of a sinner
in the body of a Saint.

And you got the whole world
chasing its tail.

Yeah, and I'd like
to keep it that way.

So, if you don't mind, beat it!

Sorry darling. Where were we?

I guess you won't want
your paycheck, huh Champagne?

Hey! Fork it over.
Mama needs a new pair of shoes.

You are one tough bitch,
Champagne,

and for some stupid reason,
I'm crazy about you.

But for some crazy reason,

I'm stupid enough to be the kind
of bitch to keep working here.

I don't know what
it is you guys,

but when I see the music
and hear the lights,

it's like something inside me
begins to swell.

Pounding deeper and deeper,

until finally it explodes
and well...

Well what?

Well, you know the drill.

Ten bucks and a two
drink minimum,

these animals get
a show of a lifetime.

Hell you guys, I love what I do,
but sometimes I get the feeling

these blockheads wouldn't know
if the Mona Lisa walked up

and slapped them
in their face with her dick.

Don't be so hard on yourself.

Girl, when you dance,
nobody can see straight.

Oh, Serge.

If only you weren't so gay,

and if only Rod
wasn't packing 10 inches.

I mean, who knows
what could happen?

Why don't you ask him?
He's still on hold.

Oh, sorry, Rod.
Where were... oh!

He says it's ten and a half.

What the...?

Sounds like trouble.

Oh, my God!

What the hell is that smell?

I don't speak Spanish,
but if you ask me,

it smells like somebody
cut the cheese.

God damn it!
It happened again.

I thought that first wacko
was just a fluke,

but now
it's a regular deja-poo.

You mean he...

That's right, he shit himself
right out in public.

Right in front of everybody.

What could possibly
possess a person

to poop their pants
in a public place!

I don't know.

But that better
not be long distance.

Sorry, Rod.

What is it
that you wanted to ask me?

Champagne. It's too big.

I know. I already
told them ten and a half.

Champagne, baby, you got to
meet me after work, okay?

Damn, it sounds like all hell's
breaking loose over there.

Nah, the only thing loose
around here is some guy's stool.

Baby, you got to be careful.

Tell me about it,
third time this week.

All these BM's are a lot of BS.

I still got to do another number

in this
velvet-flocked-out house.

Champagne, baby,
you don't understand.

Maybe you should try
a jazz routine.

Huh?

There's already
plenty of scat.

Rod. Rod, look out!

Rod!

Oh, God. Oh, my God.
Rod! Help! Somebody help!

Champagne, it's no use baby.

I'll scream louder. Help!

- No, don't.
- Okay.

- Champagne?
- Uh-huh.

You remember that big thing
I wanted to talk to you about?

Uh-huh.

- Will you...
- I do!

- Will you listen to me?
- Wait, what?

Mall-Wart. Evil plot.

Sex. Drugs.

Dixie Stampede.

Rod, this is no time
for riddles.

- You don't understand.
- A limerick, then?

- No
- Haiku?

I was employee of the month.

That's not a haiku.

Champagne!

I'm sorry, darling,
I'm so bad at this.

- Champagne?
- Uh-huh.

Trust no one.

Why, Rod? Why? Rod?

Oh, God, please don't die.
Oh, God, no, no.

Well, well, well.

Look, who's all alone now,

without her prince charming
to come say the day.

Now, tell us what the dead guy
said to you

and maybe we won't waste your
sweet ass after the gang bang.

- Yeah.
- You just killed my fiancé!

And if you think
I'm just gonna roll over

and spread my meat curtains
so you midget dick morons

can play hide
the Vienna sausage,

well, you got another thing
coming or my name

ain't Champagne Horowitz
Jones Dickerson White.

Oh, don't!

So I've been married
a couple of times!

It's none of
your fucking business.

- Oh, Iyaa!
- Bam!

Oh, shit!

- Yeah, yeah!
- Oh, no!

Help! Help! Help!

No! Help me!

Thank God you stopped!

Don't get too excited,
I'm a cop, not a customer.

These two guys,
they were all over me.

One came up the front,
the other came up the rear.

Save your sick fantasies
for daytime television.

No, you don't understand.

Well, actually, I'd be lying
if I told you

that a speeding ticket
turned afternoon delight

in the back seat of a '57 Chevy
had never crossed my mind.

But this ain't the afternoon,
and you're driving a Ford!

You have the right
to remain silent.

Wait, you think I'm a hooker?

Anything you say can be used
against you in a court of law.

- I was being attacked!
- Move it!

Legal name?

Champagne White.

Full legal name?

What are you driving at?

You reek of divorce.

Yeah, well you reek
of cheap whiskey and Vaseline,

but I'm not sticking
to no report.

Here's a news flash,

lose the attitude
or I'm throwing you in solitary.

Now, what's
your full legal name?

Champagne Horowitz Jones
Dickerson White.

So, I've been married
a couple of times.

It's none of your
fucking business.

- Spell it.
- You got to be kidding me.

Spell it!

C-H-A-M-P-A-G-N-E
H-O-R-O-W-I-T-Z

J-O-N-E-S D-I C-K-E-R-S-O-N
W-H-I-T-E.

Look, you and me
are gonna get along

like noise and a hangover
if you don't start cooperating.

I'm doing the best I can.

Thank you.

Oh, God.

Listen, Champagne,
if that is your real name,

I didn't want to pick you up,

but I got the citizens for
morality breathing down my neck.

I can't just turn
a blind eye anymore.

Then why don't you try
turning your good one?

Look, here's my trouble.

You're totally gorgeous

with a dynamite body
and brains to boot.

But what I can't understand
is what a hot,

steamy, plain, and vanilla
pudding like you

was doing turning tricks
on the freeway overpass.

- That's simple, Detective...
- Hammer.

That's simple,
Detective Hammer.

I wasn't. I'm not a prostitute.
I'm a professional dancer.

Cool it.

Knock it off. Sit down!

I was simply coming home
from the supermarket,

and these two mysterious men,
well, they... they shot Rod,

and they came after me.

All right. I'll bite.

Why would two mysterious men
jump your boyfriend?

- Fiancé.
- Fiancé.

They wanted to...

Champagne...

trust no-one.

They wanted to get
their hands on these.

Your tits?

What's so hard to believe
about that?

- No offense...
- Then write it down!

Damn it, Champagne.
I want to believe you!

Move it, buddy. You've crapped
your last pair of shorts.

Please man.
I need another bump.

You need a baby
wipe you sick fuck.

Oh, talk about the shit
hitting the fan.

Zip it! Your potty
mouth punchlines really stink.

So does your station,
but don't look at me,

I didn't pinch the loaf.

- Excuse me?
- Laying a cable, man. You know.

Dropping a deuce,
busting a grumpy.

If a woman spoke to me
like that, I'd sue her.

I don't mean to
poo-poo your ideas,

but that would be
my number two choice.

You're out of line!

Defecation is
no laughing matter.

Booty bumps are reaching
epidemic proportions.

I've got kids, 12 years old,
hooked on them

and there's no way to stop it.

Booty bumps? Sounds like
a dance move, if you ask me.

Yeah, and these poor saps
are dancing

with the devil straight to hell.

I don't follow.

White lightning, crystal,
crick, crack, smack,

Chrissy,
Tina, Britney, Judy, Eliza.

The poor bastards are blowing
pharmaceutical grade speed

right up their butts.

And they get off on that?

Oh, it's real fun, at first.

A regular roller-coaster
joy ride.

The only trouble is,
you can never get off.

Before they know
what's hit them,

they've shit themselves,
and the world comes crashing in.

It's enough humiliation to drive
a freaking Catholic nun insane.

Talk about your dirty habits.

Sorry, the rim
shot guy's off duty.

Tough crowd.

Nice trick, you got me
running my mouth

instead of running you in.

Now, where were we?

Hammer. Yeah, she's here. What?
Already? Damn it.

It looks like you're free to go.
Some guy just posted your bail.

- Good old Serge.
- He your pimp?

Listen, Mac.
I think your record's

got a scratch, cause you
keep singing the same damn tune.

One of your boyfriends then?

Well, Detective Hammer,

if I didn't know better, I'd say
you were flirting with me.

So, call me Jack.

I'd love to, but frankly
I've always hated that name.

You don't miss a trick
do you, Champagne?

Not on your life.
Here it is plain and simple.

I don't call a man
by his first name

unless I've slept with him,
in the biblical sense.

And since I don't
particularly get off,

being cuffed
in the back of a squad car

and dragged down to the station
in the middle of the night,

I think we'd better stick
with Hammer. Don't you?

Now we're done with this little
cat and mouse charade.

I think it's time for my exit,
stage right.

If you have any more questions,
feel free to call...

My lawyer.

Ciao, Detective Hammer.

Right on, sister.

Champagne!

Brandy!

Thank God you're all right,
I've been worried sick.

The police, jail, prostitution.

What gives?

Look, it's been a long night
and it's late.

- I don't want to talk about it.
- Okay.

It all started when this guy
messed himself in the club.

And the next thing
I knew Serge showed...

Brandy? Brandy?

Brandy!

What?

As I was saying,

the next thing I knew, Serge
showed up and bailed me out.

So did Rod say anything
before he,

you know...

- Before he what?
- Well, you know...

What?

Well, you know.

Oh, that.

Nah, just some mumbo jumbo
about Mall-Wart and evil plot.

Poor guy wasn't making
any sense at all.

Listen, Champagne, I know
I'm only your adopted

half step-sister,

but I'm also your roommate
and your best friend.

I'm gonna cancel my bookings
for the next couple of weeks

and I'll do whatever it takes
to help you fight this bum rap.

Look, Brandy,

you're the highest
paid calf model in the world.

I'm not gonna let a little thing
like my life

get in the way
of your modeling career.

I took care of dad when mom died

and I took care of mom
when dad died

and I took care of you too.

I think I can handle a bump
in the road now and then.

Champagne!

Rod's dead body is hardly
a little bump in the road.

Please stop saying his name!

- No!
- Oh, God, no, no.

- Champagne?
- Yes, Brandy?

Will you brush my hair?
Like the old days?

Have a seat Rapunzel.

So, what are you gonna do now?

I don't know. Move on.
I guess.

Today is a new day. First day
of the rest of my life.

At least I still have
you and Sergio

and my dancing career.

- Champagne?
- Yes, Brandy?

- Thanks for looking out for me.
- Sure thing, kiddo.

I know something else
we could do for old time's sake.

Are you thinking
what I'm thinking?

Pillow fight!

It wasn't our fault,
Miss Dixie.

Yeah. This broad showed up.

She came out of nowhere
with groceries.

We tried to take her down.

You've got to believe us,
Miss Dixie.

Of course Miss Dixie believes
you...

you unbelievable
fuck-ups!

So typical.

You send some men
out to do a man's job,

and the other man's woman
stops the men the woman sent

to do the man's job
in the first place!

- Yeah.
- Yep.

- Yep. I totally agree.
- Shut up!

You two hack jobs
are supposed to be the muscle.

Johnny The Guns
and Tony The Tiger.

Two of the most notorious hoods
this side of Tucson,

and you can't handle
a shop clerk

and his crying ass
of a girlfriend!

You don't understand.

Yeah, that chick
had the moves.

I'll show you the moves.

But it's just some
lousy stripper.

Just some lousy stripper?

You damn fools.

If Rod spilled the beans,
then that pasty faced

pole licker may know everything
about our Mall-Wart brand

discount escort service.

- Tsk.
- Ooh.

If that information falls
into the wrong hands,

then this gravy train
is going down faster

than the goddamn Titanic.

Now, what are we gonna do about
that meddling saltine cracker?

Her name is Champagne White.

She lives with her adopted
half stepsister

at that apartment complex,
Crystal Towers,

down by Fisherman's Wharf.

Yeah, and her adopted half
stepsister is Brandy White.

You know, the super calf model.

And maybe we can
rough her up a bit.

That might get Champagne
to come clean.

Oh, that sounds
rather titillating.

Tell Miss Dixie
what you gonna do to her.

Give her the old one, two.

Uh, ah. Yeah? Then what?

How about a half Nelson?

Or maybe a full Nelson.

Triple Nelson.

Oh, God. Oh, yeah. Oh, God.

What are you two buffoons
standing around here for?

Send that bitch's sister
to the hospital.

- How bad?
- Yeah, how bad?

Make the pretty model bleed.

Nice calves.

Hey!

My colleague here
just paid you a compliment.

Well, thanks.

What do you say you and I
have a little talk, huh?

Well, I'm busy
with my exercises right now.

- Maybe some other time.
- Maybe some this time.

Ow, you're hurting me.

Damn, a real firecracker,

just like her adopted
half stepsister.

Wait. You're the two goons
that killed Rod.

- Where's Champagne, hot legs?
- Oh, I don't know.

I swear.

No. Oh, no.

My calves. Why? Why?
Ow, ow.

Oh uh!

Brandy, are you up yet?

Mountain-grown aroma.

Damn, that's good coffee.

Brandy, there you are.
You want some coffee, hon?

Champagne.

Brandy. Oh, God. Brandy.

Somebody call an ambulance.

Champagne.

Shh, don't speak.
What happened?

Well, these two hoods showed
up while I was exercising,

and they started asking
questions about you, Champagne.

I told them that I didn't know
what they were talking about.

They just started shooting.

Oh, God, honey,
this is all my fault.

- Hold on. I'm going to get help.
- No.

It won't do any good.

Oh, Brandy,
you're talking crazy talk.

Wake up and smell the coffee,
Champagne.

I just did.

No one's gonna hire a model
with ground beef for legs.

That's nonsense,
and you know it.

Look at me. Look at me.
Look at me!

Everything's gonna be okay,
I promise.

That's easy for you to say.

Your calves aren't
full of shrapnel.

The bullets must
have hit an artery.

What are we gonna do?
I got it.

I'll fashion some sort of
makeshift tourniquet.

Champagne, don't.

Living a life without perfect
calves isn't a life at all.

I'll be in prison,

a prison haunted
by the painful memories

of what could have been.

Help me escape
this life of agony.

Champagne, please,
just let me die.

- Thank you, Champagne.
- I love you, Brandy.

Oh, no. Oh, no.

Oh, no!

Oh, God, no.

Oh, God, no. God, no.

So, she was
some kind of relative?

I already told you. She was
my adopted half stepsister.

And you say you just opened
the door

and she went down on you.

How many times
do I have to say it?

As many as it takes?

Yes, yes, yes.

- Had she been acting depressed?
- No.

On any medication?

Look, Detective,
if you've got something to say,

say it to my face.

Listen, milk breath.

It appears that your adopted
half stepsister, Brandy,

may have committed suicide.

Are you out of your
freaking mind?

Don't get hysterical!

You got some nerve waltzing
around here in your cheap suits

and your JC Penney shoes,
with the audacity

to tell me that my adopted
half stepsister shot herself

repeatedly in the calves
in order to take her own life.

A regular textbook case.

You're the dumbest cop
I ever met.

Yeah? Well, we're all good
at something, sister.

Did it ever occur to you
it could be the same two thugs

that jumped me last night?

- Still waters run deep.
- Get out of my house.

We're not done
with the investigation.

You were done the moment
you walked through this door.

Try this on for size.

A couple of good-time girls
get in over their heads.

The fun and games turned ugly.

And like the saying goes,

"The dish
ran away with the spoon."

That was Brandy's
favorite nursery rhyme.

Oh, God.

Fresh.

Hammer. Yeah? Where?
I'm on it. Look, Champagne.

I just received
an all-points bulletin.

Five more public poopings.
I've got to act fast.

Wait, wait. That's it?

First my fiancé, and now
my adopted half stepsister

are both brutally murdered,

and you're not gonna do
a damn thing about it?

Listen, I don't mean to burst
your bubble, Champagne,

but without any hard evidence,

my hands are tied.

Give me a call
if you uncover any new clues,

or if someone else you know
is brutally murdered.

Ooh, you're looking so good.

Ooh, I see you.
I see you right there, Sergio.

Hey, Sergio.

Come in.

Champagne, baby,
what's going down?

You sound all talking funny.

Look, Serge, I don't want to
beat around the bush,

but Brandy's, well, dead.

- You got any coffee?
- I hope instant's okay.

Serge, what happened
to your pants?

Nothing. I don't know
what you're talking about.

That's a lot of crap,
and you know it.

- Now, what's in your pants?
- Nothing, nothing. I swear. No.

- Oh, God. You shit yourself.
- It was an accident

You're doing booty bumps,
aren't you?

- No!
- God. Serge.

Look at me. Look at me.
Look at me!

You're higher than a hippie in
a helicopter, and you know it.

They told me
it would feel good.

And it did. It felt real good.
But now I can't stop.

I need more. I need more.

I need more, Champagne.
My ass is hungry.

I'd do anything
for another bump, Champagne.

I'll lick your pussy!

First they took Rod,
then Brandy,

and now you.

I don't know what psycho, sick,
wacko freak job is behind this,

but as God as my witness,
if I have to lie,

steal, cheat, or kill,
I'll make them pay.

Or my name ain't

Champagne Horowitz
Jones Dickerson White.

So I've been married
a couple of times.

It's none of your
fucking business.

Shaboom Boom Room.

Hi, Al. It's Champagne.
Look, I need the night off.

No way, Champagne.
Who's gonna cover your number?

Get Debbie.
She needs the work.

Debbie? Are you crazy?

Putting that meat grinder on
in your place

is like putting
a bull in a china shop.

Somebody's liable
to lose an eye.

I'm right here.

Well, get someone,
because I ain't coming in.

I'm warning you, Champagne.

You better be on that stage
at 9:00 PM sharp.

Fine.

It's gonna look more like a
murder scene than a strip club.

What's that supposed to mean?

I've got the curse,
you old coot. I'm on the rag.

- So don't wear white.
- Piss off.

Come on.
I'm just yanking your string.

Take a night off, kid.
You deserve it.

Thanks, Al.

Oh, oh, and by the way,

what's the word
on the gangster types?

The pushers.
Where do they go to unwind?

Don Ramon's Mexican
restaurant, south of Market.

Why you asking?

Just curious, that's all.

Well, you know what they say,
Champagne.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Not if the cat swallows
the canary first.

Well, just be careful not to
swallow more than you can chew.

Don't worry, Alzy.
This pussy's got teeth.

Shh, it's me, Champagne.

Hola, and welcome to Don Ramon's
Mexican style restaurant,

bar, lounge, and donut shop.

I am your server,
Juanita Bonita...

Hi.

- Carmen Carmacita...
- Okay.

Rodriguez Gonzalez Lopez
Gina Rivera.

What you like?

I'll have the beef enchilada
plate with extra hot sauce.

Oh, yeah.

A strawberry daiquiri
and a bear claw.

Yeah. And I'll have the
chicken fajitas, chips, salsa,

one cream filled,
a Miller High Life.

You know,
the champagne of beers.

Move it, Chiquita!

Accuse me?

You heard him,
tortilla breath. Pronto, Andale!

So, what if that Champagne
don't play ball, huh?

Yeah, we'll put the screws
to her real good.

And what if she still don't?

Then we'll take her for
a long walk down a short pier.

And still don't?

We'll fashion her
a pair of cement shoes.

- Still don't.
- Look, Johnny...

Ay, ay, ay, papi.

Don't you think you're being
too hard on the?

I mean, whoever she is.

Hey, beat it, Rosarita.

Don't you got
some hash to sling?

Yeah, but by the sound of it,
it's already been slung.

God damn it.
Can you believe that?

The lounge singer just up
and quit just like that.

Who are you?

- I new here.
- Damn it.

If they keep hiring more girls,

I'm never gonna be able
to afford that new toaster oven.

Listen, cousin, I better get
that new toaster oven,

or you might find yourself

having a nasty little accident
with a deep fryer.

Who am I kidding?

We're not gonna get
out of here alive

if we don't give
those goons a show.

- Hey, hon, can you sing?
- No.

You're hired.

Hey, buddy.

You got something
I can dance to?

- You got it, Mama.
- Right on.

You were dynamite out there.

I'm glad you dug it.

Yeah. I could really dig into
something else,

if you catch my drift.

I hear it's mating season
for the bearded clam.

Ooh, now we're talking.

But first I need
a booty bump real bad.

What do you say
you smear my rear, big guy.

Bend over, you back door Betty

and get ready
for the ride of your life.

- Hey, slow down.
- Too late, cream cheeks.

I'm gonna get you speeding
so fast

you'll be burning rubber down
the Hershey highway.

The only highway is my way,
you jive turkey.

You got answers and I want them.

Okay, okay.

- Who's the boss man?
- There ain't one.

Listen, punk.
I only got so much self-control.

No, no. It ain't a dude.
It's a chick.

I want the name, the name.

Dixie Stampede.

What does she have to
with Rod and Brandy?

Nothing.
They just got in the way.

You bastard.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
I just followed orders.

What's the scam?

She gets you
hooked on the drugs

and then you go to work for her.

She runs a stable of the
cheapest hookers in the country.

What about the ass candy?
Where's the lab set up?

The lab is downtown
in an abandoned warehouse

behind the deserted
shipping dock

across from the demolition site
and near the wrecking yard.

I know the place.

Thanks for the info.

Now, beat it before I wise up
and change my mind.

The only thing changing

around here
is your life expectancy.

There you are.
They want an encore, okay?

what happened to him?

He wanted an encore
and a toaster oven.

Tony.

- Yes, Miss Dixie.
- What the hell is going on?

She takes down Johnny the Gun,
one of my top men,

and think she's gonna walk.

But every dog has its day, and
that bitch needs to be fixed.

You want me to put her
to sleep permanently?

There's nothing Dixie wants

more than to swat
that frigging little fly girl.

But, unfortunately,
you can't seem to do that.

She's a chick, Tony, a chick.

I know, boss, but she's tough.

And so am I.

I have spent a lifetime
undercutting the competition,

shafting employees,
and building a monopoly.

I'm not about to let some
"dancer" get in the way

of my fast track
to corporate domination.

I want the drugs in the streets
and the hos in the sheets.

I want it done fast.
I want it done cheap.

What's our motherfucking motto?

Mall-Wart, always low prices.

Always.

What about that broad,
Champagne?

Champagne. Champagne.

That's all I'm hearing
these days. And I don't like it.

Next time I hear
that hoochie mama's name,

it had better be
in the history books.

Comprende, Tony?

Should I make it look
like an accident.

I don't care, when you do it,
or how you do it.

Just find her and do it.
Do you hear me?

I want that Champagne on ice...

Shh. It's me Champagne.

Hold it. Who are you?

Who am I? Who am I?

Yes, who are you?
Your name, out with it.

My name.

My name, my name, my name...
my name is Diana.

Diana Prince, -ton.

Well, Diana, Diana Princeton,
this is a private facility.

What are you doing here?

I'm a world renowned
nuclear physicist's

assistant's assistant.

- And?
- And Dixie Stampede sent me.

Oh, why didn't you say so
in the first place.

I don't know.

Welcome to our laboratory,
Ms. Princeton.

My name is Dr. Pete Reedish.
Don't laugh.

Okay.

This is the central
nervous system

for the creation of the uppers
that go into booty bumps,

anal absorption,
shall we say.

Science, after all,
is the name of the game.

I most definitely concur.

Now, tell me, why did Dixie
send you to see me?

Because she thought

you might want
some nuclear physicism.

Where did you say
you were from?

- Hasenpfeffer Incorporated.
- Hasenpfeffer Incorporated.

Yeah, yeah. The schlemiel,
schlimazel department.

That's funny. I used to work
at Hasenpfeffer Incorporated.

- Shit.
- I never heard your name once.

That's funny.
I heard it quite often.

Well, that's funny because
I have a pistol in my pocket.

Well, that's funny.

I thought you were
just happy to see me.

Mae West you're not,
Miss Whoever You Think You Are.

The jig is up.

So it really was a pistol
in your pocket.

Yes. And maybe I was
a little happy to see you.

Not that happy.

You can't blame
a girl for trying.

You're not actually

a nuclear physicist's
assistant's assistant, are you?

Guilty.

You're that Champagne broad

that whacked Johnny the Gun
at Don Ramon's Mexican Style

Restaurant, Bar, Lounge,
and Donut Shop, aren't you?

Yeah.

I am that Champagne broad

who whacked Johnny the Gun
at Don Ramon's Mexican Style

Style Restaurant Bar, Lounge,
and Donut Shop,

aren't you, am't I?

He had it coming.

And now, so do you. Tony.

What is it now?

Look who I found
snooping around.

Hey, what did she find out?

Just a few aspects
of the drug trade.

I didn't say a word
about Mall-Wart.

Mall-Wart?

Smooth move Ex-Lax,
now you got to kill her.

Don't do
anything rash, Reedish.

I'm sorry, but you
give me no choice.

Good going Champagne,

you're 10 seconds away
from a gunpowder facial.

I got it. I knew
those ventriloquist lessons

would come in handy
one of these days.

Shoot her.

Hold it right there.
This is the police.

We have you surrounded.

- Who said that?
- I said freeze.

- You're under arrest.
- Where is that coming from?

Where everything comes,
her mouth.

- And she swallows.
- Hey!

And she takes it up the butt.

- Did you hear that?
- Oh, yeah, up the butt.

Just like you two flamers.

- Where'd she go?
- Hell if I know.

But if we don't find her,

Dixie's gonna bust our balls
after she crushes our nuts.

Hey, there she is!

There's something funny
about that mannequin.

Aside from its dubious size,
man hands,

and a slight appearance
of an Adam's apple,

it looks pretty basic to me.

Yeah.

Yeah, you're probably right.

Look you go that way.
I'm gonna go over there.

Phew.

Cool your jets, Princess.

Damn it, Hammer, you scared
the bejesus out of me.

I didn't know you had
any Jesus in you.

Talk to Father O'Malley.

We got a call about a break-in
at the bridal hut.

I didn't think
I'd find you here.

Just doing
some late night shopping.

We found Johnny's body.

Good, you can add him
to the collection.

You can't go around acting like
the goddamn judge and the jury.

I don't see no one else
coming to my rescue.

- We're working on it.
- So am I.

You can't take law
into your own hands.

Look, Hammer,
there's only been three things

I've ever been
good at in this lifetime.

Dancing and fighting
are two of them.

Oh, yeah. What's the third?

If you have to ask, you're not
the man I thought you were.

Stand back Champagne.
I think she's got the rump rage.

- Hammer, no.
- I can't take any more chances.

I'm gonna have to put her down.

Hammer, wait, don't.

I know her. She's my friend.

Debbie. Debbie, baby.

Baby, it's me, baby.
Champagne.

Champagne.

Yeah. Champagne, baby.

Nobody, nobody
is gonna hurt you. Okay?

Okay.

Champagne.

What is it
you really want Champagne?

Justice.

For who, your boyfriend

or your adopted
half step-sister?

It could be your boyfriend

or you're adopted
half step-sister.

I want justice for all of them.

Sounds to me like
you want revenge.

You have no idea.

- Try me.
- It's too hard.

Come home with me tonight.

I'd love to, Jack.

Get on.

Champagne?

Champagne.

Dear Jack, last night
was glorious.

Sorry I couldn't hang around
to play house,

but I've got a war to fight.

No matter what happens, remember
I never meant to hurt you.

Love, Champagne.

PS, I borrowed
10 bucks for a cab.

Damn it.

That was my last 10 bucks.

Shh. It's me, Champagne.

Oh, hello. I'm sorry,
I didn't mean to startle you.

You must be the new employee.
What's your name?

Cham... pa, pa, pa, Pam.

Pam Greer, Fawcett, Majors,

oh, Newton-John, Jett,
Joan Fonda, Dunaway,

von Furstenberg. Oy.

So nice to meet you.

Cham, pa, pa, Pam Greer-a,
Fawcett, Majors, oh, Newton,

Jett, John, Joan, Fonda,
Dunaway von Furstenberg, oy.

Such an interesting name.
Sounds Eastern European to me.

I have a second cousin
from Yemen.

Anyway, welcome
to the Mall-Wart family.

My name is Janis.

Janis.
I'm the supervising manager.

So if you have
any problems whatsoever,

please don't hesitate
to come to me,

and I will do everything
I can to keep you

from speaking to the media.

Anyway, why don't
I let you get settled in

and I'll go check in with HR
on your legal documentation?

Okay?
Thanks, bye-bye.

Debbie?

Debbie, you'll
never believe what happened.

Welcome to Mall-Wart,
always low prices, always.

- Debbie.
- I hate overtime pay.

- Debbie.
- I love Mall-Wart.

- I hate lunch breaks.
- Debbie.

I love Mall-Wart.
I love Mall-Wart.

Hey, you, Snow White.

Look... Oh, my God, Serge.

Do I know you?

Yes, Serge,
because it's me, Champagne.

You look kind of familiar.

Serge.

Oh, Champagne, baby.
Girl, what's going on?

Don't blow my cover.

You sure ain't covering much.

Simmer down helium heels.

Last time I saw you,

you were crashing harder
than a princess in a tunnel.

Well, I never.

Too soon?

Anyways, girl,
what had happened

was after I hit rock bottom,

I was out on the streets trying
to get a fix any way I could.

But then I found Mall-Wart
and I was saved.

Oh, yes, thank you Black Jesus,
thank you.

Anyways, girl, so it turns out
that the off gassing

from the plastic products

sort of works
as a sort of

methadone
for my booty pump habit.

Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah,
that's that good, Good.

Yeah, well you see,
as long as I work at Mall-Wart,

I feel and act
like a normal person.

And girl, guess what? I'm up
for employee of the month.

Oh, my God.
Oh, my God, Serge, that's it.

Rod was employee of the month.

That's how they enlist you
as a half priced hooker.

Girl, your weave is too tight.

Uh-uh,
you ain't ruining this for me.

I'm telling Janis
who you really are.

Watch it you
little fudge packer.

What did you call me?

- A butt pirate.
- A what?

A booty bandit.
A rump ranger.

- A turd burglar.
- A brownie.

Listen to me
you little fruit fly,

At least I'm not some
middle-aged fag hag

with fake titties
and bogus conspiracy theories

wiggling her fat ass
up and down the aisle

of some
discount department store

looking for some
cut-rate revenge.

Come here.

- I missed you.
- I missed you too, baby.

- Thanks.
- You look so good.

Sergio. There you are.
Just the person I wanted to see.

Listen, it was very close
and it was very tight,

but the votes are all in,
and you have been chosen

as employee of the month.

Sergio, you must be so happy.

I know I would be if I were you,

a young boy emasculated by his
desire to lay with another man,

desperately trying to claw
his way out of the closet

and prove himself
in a bigoted society.

Finally recognized
by his mentor,

a compassionate
and beautiful woman

who saw a glimmer of hope in
the eyes of a misfit homosexual.

God bless America,

land of the free.

There will be cake
and punch served

in the employees lounge, okay?

Buh-bye.

Champagne, I'm scared.

Just play along.

I'll think of something.

What? You mean you want me

to let them sell my ass to
the first John that comes along?

Like that's a stretch.

I'm sure there've been
plenty of mornings

you've woken up next
to a complete stranger

who's hair and teeth weren't
his own and his crotch smelled

of baby powder and baloney.

Oh, hell, we all have.

But this time
you're doing it for money.

Sure, it's illegal.
Sure, it's sleazy.

This whole stinking world's
a cesspool waiting to overflow.

But you're gonna grin
and bear it

because that's what
I'm telling you to do, see.

I'm gonna stop them.
I swear I will.

I just need some more time

and you're gonna buy it
with your body.

I want to put an all points
bulletin out from one

Champagne Horowitz
Jones Dickerson White.

So she's been married
a couple of times.

It's none of your
fucking business.

I don't want her harmed,
you got that?

We need to bring her in
for her own safety.

I got a feeling she's about
to walk right into the middle

of a hornet's nest
filled with killer bees.

Of course, Horton.

I'll send someone
over immediately.

Tony, it's time.
Bring in the next whore.

Oh, this one's named Sergio.

Welcome to my stable, Sergio.

Turn around.
Nice butt... tight, firm.

Even on sale,
we could get a good price

for a cum dumpster like that.

Now let's see a smile.

Mm-mm.

I said, smile.

And that's more like it.

I just got off the phone
with Horton Mills.

It seems the head of Citizens
for Morality

is into anonymous gum jobs.

Knock his teeth out
and send him over.

You got it, Miss Dixie.

Please, not my teeth.
I just had them veneered.

Move it, dick bait.

But what about my cake
and punch?

Oh, you'll get your punch.

What?

They sent me
up from maintenance

to unclog your chimney.

Fine, but make it quick.

I'm real busy.

Yes, ma'am. Yes, ma'am.

Hello?
Well, hello, Mr. President.

You want a young lady right now?

Well, I'm afraid all of our
girls are tied up at the moment.

No, no, I'm sure I could
scrape up something for you.

What kind of lady
did you have in mind?

Classy? Sexy?

Refined?

I've got just the girl.
I'll send her right over.

Hey, you.

You talking to me?

Yeah, I'm talking to you.

Look, I'm gonna need you

to perform some
extracurricular activities.

Now, what I'm gonna ask you

to do isn't exactly
in the employee handbook.

- Is it illegal?
- In most states.

Ma'am, are you asking me
to prostitute myself?

I'm not asking you,
grease monkey, I'm telling.

Now, the only trouble
is the client,

and this is a really big client,
mind you, wants a woman,

but, unfortunately, we don't
have any available

at the moment.

So I'm gonna need for you to
dress in drag for the evening.

Can you handle it?

Well, I never cross-dressed
before.

The panties cling a bit,

and your toes most definitely
will hang over your shoes,

but you'll get used to it.

The real problem
is gonna be your size.

With such a large masculine man,

your body must be surging
with testosterone.

You know, never really thought
I was all that manly.

Oh, you are.

Getting you to pass for a woman
is not gonna be easy,

and finding a dress
in your size,

is gonna be even harder.

We'll have to see what we can
find in the plus size section,

possibly
the maternity department.

Hell, I've got a slip cover
from my couch at home.

I'm sure
you can find something.

- It's a sectional.
- Got it.

Seats eight.

You know what?
I'll get my own outfit.

Attaboy.

The dick's been dropped.

Hey, what's with
the new janitor outfit,

some kind of kinky new fetish?

- You can say that.
- Yeah.

Hey, there's something
real fishy about you.

Yeah?
Well, I got a real fishy face.

Come on, Tony.

You've seen one maintenance man,
you've seen them all.

I'll buy the maintenance part,
but not the man.

Ouch!

You mean she's not a man?

Okay, you know what?
Go to hell.

Oh, my God No, no.

It's that broad that's been
given us so much trouble.

Well, Miss Champagne,
we meet at last.

You're not gonna
get away with this.

Oh, but I already have.

Take Champagne to the penthouse.

And...

have Dr. Reedish fill her
sweet, brown Rose full of smack.

Oh, God, no. Please, no.

And when she's good
and strung out,

you can slice that hair pie.

No. No.

Or...

Drill for oil in that skanky
prune danish.

Once you're done with her,
you can sell her

into white slavery
on the black market.

- I hate you.
- I know, darling,

Get her out of here.

No. No. No, please. No.

That's what I call
a case of blue balls.

You bitch.

Make it black and blue balls.

Please, please don't shove
that crap up my poop chute.

This dope should shut you up.

Yeah, well, this chair
should shut you up.

No.

- Shaboom Boom Room.
- Al, it's me, Champagne.

Where the hell are you?

You're due on stage
in 45 minutes.

Look, Al, I'm gonna be late.

- Here we go again.
- Al, you got to listen to me.

Randy and Rod have been killed,
Sergio has been brainwashed,

and I've been kidnapped by the
secret president of Mall-Wart,

who's trying
to take over the world.

Yeah. I'm sick of your
cockamamie stories.

Now, I want your fat ass
down here at the club,

and I want to see those
lily-white bazooms up on stage

at 9:00 PM sharp,
or you are fired.

You got it? You're never gonna
work in this town again.

But, Al, you got to...
Al? Al? Al? Al?

- It's for you.
- Huh?

This is for Rod and Brandy.
Sayonara, shithead!

It's curtains...
For you, Miss Champagne.

You may be blind to all
the lives you ruined,

but now you're just blind.

Take this ,
you scum bag drug pusher.

You pushed Dixie too far.

Lady champagne in my ass,
I'm gonna pound every bubble

out of you till you're flat
as cheap table wine.

Go ahead. Make my day.

Hold it.

I'm packing enough
explosives to blow

these 'ginas straight to China.

You're insane.

On the contrary,

in order to secure Mall-Wart
as the strongest worldwide

economic
consumer-based super first,

we needed to come up
with a phrase like that.

Then I needed
to conquer the world.

And through cum
and caca, we will.

But if you blow us up,

you'll die too,
and so will your empire.

Wrong again, missy.

Mall-Wart has recently merged
with McDonald's,

Coca Cola,
Philip Morris, and Sizzler.

An army of crack whores
is being assembled as we speak.

They may not be
the most attractive people,

but at these prices,
our customers can't resist.

So you see, even if I die,
my legacy will prevail,

for in essence, they are all me

in every happy meal,

Coke classic or Virginia Slim
deluxe ultra-light 100.

Work as my number one dealer,
and I'll spare your life.

Come to the dark side,
Champagne.

We can rule the world,
the galaxy, together.

Well, no.

You'll have to kill me first.

And, you know,
I don't even care.

There isn't a single person
in this rotten town

who gives a rat's ass
whether I live a die.

Except one.

- Jack.
- It's Hammer time.

- Jack, what are you doing here?
- I love you, Champagne.

Why couldn't you
have just let me go?

You're not just the catch
of the day,

you're the quest of a lifetime.

Hell, Champagne,
you're my goddamn Moby Dick.

Oh, Jack.

Piss off, pig,
I'm taking you down too.

You got nothing
to worry about.

We got the goods
on her entire organization,

from the booty bumps
to the discount escort service.

- How did you know?
- We've known all along.

You set me up.

I had to, we needed someone
to infiltrate the network.

So you used me.

Maybe I did, but then
I fell in love with you.

I never bargained for that.

And I thought I was gonna add
Hammer to my list of last names.

You still can.

Get out of here.

I don't want to see
your face again.

I'm sorry, what?

I said, get out of here,

I don't want to see
your face again.

I'm sorry, I have no idea
what you're saying.

I said, get out of here, I never
want to see your face again.

I'm afraid I can't
do that, Champ.

Jack, look out.

Welcome to oblivion,
you righteous motherfuckers.

Champagne? Oh, Champagne.

Champagne. Champagne.

Yeah.

So that's it?
You're just gonna walk out?

Look, Hammer,

you got your bust,
and a little trim on the side.

Let's not pretend
it was anything more.

All I know is I've got five
minutes before the lights go up

on a stage that I know better
than the back of my hand,

where an audience sits
in the darkness, worshiping me.

No questions asked.

There's a star

on a dressing room door

with my name on it.

It may be tarnished,
but it's mine.

Do you hear me?
Mine.

And I'm not gonna blow that,
like I blew you.

I'll never forget you...

What we had.

Do yourself a favor, try.

The days of wine and roses

are gone... forever.

Yeah, but I'll always have

the memories
of shit and Champagne.

The Shaboom Boom Room

proudly presents,

the one, the only,

Champagne White.

Champagne!

Provided by explosiveskull
https://twitter.com/kaboomskull