All language subtitles for Whore.1991.1080p.BluRay.H264.AAC-RARBG.mp4

- Hey.

Come here.

How you doing?

- Fine.

You a cop?

- No.

Why, are you?

- No.

You want a date?

- How much?

- How much you got to spend?

- It depends on what you do.

- I have sex.

I give head, half and half.

And I do domination.

- Uh, is that all?

- What do you mean is that all?

What the hell you want, a hand job?

- I wanna fuck you up the ass.

- You can stick it up your own, asshole.

- I would if I could, bitch.

- Bastard!

Fucking jerk off!

Jesus, you hear the mouth on that guy?

Could just imagine what it would
be like if he had me alone.

I mean, if he can't treat me like a lady

out here on the street,

he sure ain't gonna treat me like one

when he gets my pants down, now, is he?

Oh, God.

Ugh.

- What?

What are you looking at?

- Why don't you find a toilet, huh?

- Why don't you find a bed?

- I'm trying to,

but you ain't exactly attracting business,

you know what I mean?

- Want a date?

- Ugh.

- I wasn't gonna kiss you.

- Ugh, Jesus Christ.

- I know the rule.

- This place is a fucking dive!

I wish I hadn't come here.

- Spare some change for Ras?

- No!

- Don't vex me, sister.

Me got something for you.

- What?

- Come, come.

Me show.

Come.

Look.

- What are you doing?

What's the matter with you?

- For just one dollar, sister,

I'm walking on real broken glass.

- No, don't! Don't do it!

- You breaking me concentration.
- Here.

Here. Take it, take it!

I don't care.

Just have it.

Ah!

There's a guy on the
other side of the street.

He's probably into blood.

Jesus.

If there's two things I don't need

is a guy puking on one side of the street

and bleeding on the other.

Can you believe what
he was gonna do for a-

You know, this isn't my territory.

I'm sorta on the run.

I left the fucker yesterday.

I work downtown.

I've got my regulars there.

There's at the Just the Chicken takeout.

Yeah, us working gals call
it the "cluck and fuck."

There, the cars, they line up for me, man.

I'll go back there as
soon as it cools down.

Chicken's not bad there either.

Well, it's a little on
the greasy side, I guess,

but if you're hungry.

Let's face it.

Nobody's there for the chicken.

Come on, baby.

Come on.

Come on to mama.

That's it.

Got another sucker.

Hi, darling.

You a cop?

- Do I look like a cop?

- No.

You want a date?
- Right now, I'm just looking.

How much for more?

- 50 for starters.
- What's that include?

- Today we're offering
straight, head, or the combo.

Half and half.

Anything extra?
- Is extra.

- Right.

- How's the head tonight?
- House speciality.

- I'll try it for 40.

- 45.

Including tip.
- Get in.

You're pretty.

What's your name?

- Liz.

- Elizabeth.

- No, just Liz.

- So, Just Liz, you have a place?

- No.

We can go to yours.

Get a room, an alley.

Whatever you want.

- Well, the old lady's
not home, is she, Dad?

- Hey, forget it.

I don't do incest.

- I'm not his father.

- Relax.

He just looks old.

- Fuck you, man.

- But he's got a young cock.

Real small.

Like a French fry.

- He's bullshitting you.

I got a cock the size
of a Pershing missile.

- Just let me out, please?

- And he comes just as
fast, so don't worry.

- How would you know?

- I heard.

- From who?

- Who do you think?

- That last whore we picked up back there?

- I'll kill her.
- Hey, I said just let me out, please!

- I'm gonna find that little scumbag.

- Hey, you're scaring her, man.

- I'm not scared.

It's just that I don't do double.

- Oh, forget this one.

- Not for any price.

- What, you don't do white doubles?

Only single niggers?

- Come on, man.

Let her out.

You're wasting our fucking time.

- Yeah.

- Fuck, no. We're just starting
to have fun, aren't we?

I'll take the head now!

- Hey.

Hey, maybe you know her.

A little girl.

A Puerto Rican.

- Come on, suck it!

I said suck it!

- About 5'2".

Blue eye shadow.

- Man, I'm trying to get off here.

- I'm not stopping you.
I just want to talk to her.

- I don't want her talking

while she's giving me head.

Jesus.

- She's not giving you diddly, man.

- We're just-forget it, okay?

- Don't flatter yourself.

I wouldn't waste my come on you.

- Tricks.

They're so predicable, you know?

You get in the car and you're his.

And never get in a van.

I made that mistake once.

Just once.

It happened downtown
a couple of years ago.

It was before I had a
pimp to take care of me.

I guess my mind just wasn't
on my job that night.

- Excuse me, miss.

You're a prostitute, aren't you?

- No.

I'm a wet dream on legs.

- How, how much do you cost?

- What are you looking for?

- I don't know.

Something around $20.

- 20 bucks won't buy a porno tape.

Double it and I'll give you head.

I give great head.

- All right.

All right.

Get in.

- So you got a place or you want it here?

- Yeah!

Come on, man! Give her
a good fucking for me!

Fuck her up the ass!

Yeah!

Come on, man!

Do it for me, man!

Stick it down her fucking throat, man!

Whoo!

- There must have been five of 'em.

They started on me right away.

They were like animals.

Just grunting and laughing.

Grunting and cussing.

- Yeah, come on, man!
- Seem to go on forever.

I don't know how long.

When they had enough, they,
they just got rid of me.

- Later, bitch!

- My God.

Don't be afraid.

- Yeah, he offered me a ride
to the nearest hospital.

I really should've gone,

but the hospital would've called the cops

and I couldn't deal with the cops.

So I told him I had a
fight with my boyfriend

and maybe he could just take me home.

Then he told me he was a schoolteacher.

Great, with my luck, he'll molest me.

He gave me his handkerchief
to wipe away the blood.

The only thing he wanted

was to know if I needed anything.

I hated asking,

but I needed some money.

He gave me 20 bucks, his
name, and his address.

I guess he thought he'd
never see it again,

but I sent it back with a new handkerchief

and I wrote him this
little thank-you note.

"Just a line to let you
know that I'm okay."

But he never wrote back.

One look at my spelling
would scare anybody off.

Especially a schoolteacher, you know?

Looks a little flat.

Need a hand pumping it up?

- You are doing it

without a rubber thing?

I prefer it without a rubber thing.

- You prefer what without a rubber thing?

- Everything.

- What are you, man, like suicidal?

- Yes.

I am liking that, too.

- Well, I'm not into suicides

and I always use a rubber thing.

- I pay extra.

- You couldn't afford extra.

He wants it, but he doesn't
want to use a rubber.

Get a lot of men like that.

I mean, they'll pay extra.

Sometimes even double.

I mean, that is really stupid.

What if they took something
home to their wives?

Some of 'em never give up, do they?

Take Charlie for instance.

Man was as good as gold.

Charlie was a regular,
but he didn't want sex.

Well, not straight sex anyway.

All I had to do was hit him
with his cane and he'd come.

First time, I got a little carried away.

Bam.

Oops.

Then I found out just
how hard he liked it.

It's funny.

The first time I saw him
all stretched out on the bed

with his skinny little chicken legs

and his wrinkled little butt,

I mean, I practically peed my pants.

Just six swats.

That was all he needed.

Easy money.

I must have a talent for it.

I should open up a torture chamber.

I make him beg for mercy.

There was this one day, right,

his grandchildren were there.

He told them I was from
the welfare department.

That he had to show me around the house.

We left the kids watching
TV and we went upstairs.

We couldn't do it in the bedroom
'cause the lock was broke.

So we did it in the bathroom,

but I couldn't get a good swing.

It was just too narrow.

I broke a fucking light fixture.

He was so sweet.

He always gave me something.

I mean, you know, besides the money.

Usually something from the garden.

I know it's stupid to
get involved with tricks,

but he's, well, he's a client.

And sometimes, you've
gotta break the rules.

Last year, Charlie had a stroke.

- Give me your hands, Donatello.

- Okay, so he's in a rest home now.

Don't mean he has to rest.

Charlie's still my client.

I always bring him an avocado.

He thinks it's from his garden.

Hey, what he don't know won't hurt him.

But I think he probably knows.

- Sorry.

Mosquito.

- What do you want now,
a dollar for slapping me?

- No, no problem.

No problem, sister.

- Thanks, Mon,

but next time, I think I'll
just let him suck my blood.

- But it was free.

Free.
- Shit.

- Whoo!

- Bad move.

Even tricks need a little
bit of mystery, AIDS carrier.

She's a fucking strawberry.

Won't accept cash, only crack.

And you see, prostitutes like that,

they have no respect for themselves.

I mean, I would never pull out
one of my breasts in public.

I would never go outwith a bodysuit on.

I mean, just a bodysuit.

And I would never open
my legs on the street.

I mean, I would never
do none of that shit.

And I don't wear shorts, either.

Well, I wear shorts,

but I don't wear them up the
crack of my ass, you know?

And I only wear 'em during the day.

I mean, when I was younger,

I used to do shit like that, I guess.

I don't know.

Seems the older I get, the
more mature I get, I guess.

Goddamn-motherfucking-shit.

Give me a dry martini, please.

Very dry with a cherry.

Not an olive.

He doesn't really think
I'm gonna leave him.

Hey, I know what he thinks.

He thinks I'm still gonna work.

Like I said, I left my place yesterday,

I went and got this little motel room.

And see, what he thinks is

is that I've been
stacking my money, right?

And in a couple of days,

I'm gonna have this big
bankroll for him.

That's what he thinks, but I'm not.

No.

Not this time.

I've been spending my money.

Oh.

Look at my nails.

I used to have beautiful nails.

Now I can't leave them alone.

I'm like a dog with a bone.

See, pimps, you know,

they think that they got
this hold on you, you know?

Like you'll stick to them
like fucking crazy glue.

And it is kinda crazy, you know?

In some sort of sick, twisted way, they,

they make you believe that you love 'em.

I knew Blake about a year

and he never asked me out
or even laid a hand on me.

It wasn't that I wanted him to.

It was that I wondered why he hadn't.

So naturally, when he
sent me a classy dress

and showed up at my place in a tux

with pine freshener on his breath,

I wondered what the fuck was up.

Um, hey.

Do you think we could
sit at a different table?

I mean, I got this problem with kitchens.

I used to work at this
greasy spoon, you know,

and it was just crawling with roaches.

- Well, it's your night.

- I understand, ma'am.

Please, follow me.

- Oh, but I didn't mean

your kitchen was crawling
with roaches, too.

It's just that I get
this, what do you call it?

A phobia about it.

Yeah, that's it.

I felt kinda nervous. You know,
like you do when you're out

with your boss or something.

I didn't think I could be promoted

and I wondered if a whore could be fired.

But then he never would've
used breath freshener

and bought me that classy
new dress, would he?

So now you gonna tell
me what the occasion is?

- So what do you want to eat?

A steak.

I'm so hungry, I could eat a horse.

10 to one it is one, huh?

Steak "tarter."

Yeah, this is a nice place,

but you'd think they'd
know how to spell steak, huh?

S-T-E-K-

- This is a French restaurant.

- Then how come there's no
French fries on the menu, huh?

- They call 'em pommes frites.

- Oh.

Well, I'll have a helping of that

and a nice, juicy steak.

- Steak tartare is raw steak

minced with raw onions, eggs,

and Worcestershire sauce.

- Oh.

Really?

Well, why don't you make
a suggestion, then, huh?

- All right.

As a starter, how 'bout gravlax marinade?

- What's that?

- It's raw salmon and it's marinade-

- Raw?

Is everything in this restaurant raw?

I mean, can't they afford
a chef around here?

- Hey, raw food is really good for you.

Don't you know nothin'?

He wants you to choose.

What, you found something?

- What's so funny about crab julienne?

- You remember.

Your old whore Julienne.

She had crabs like you wouldn't believe.

You remember.

- Uh, yes, madam?

- I don't really know, sir.

- Hey, call him waiter.

You call me sir.

I'll order for both of us.

- Très bien, sir.

- We'll have the calamara la chinoise.

- And would sir care for some wine?

- Hey, can we get some champagne?

I haven't had champagne for a long time.

- Give me a bottle of "Low Da Vici."

Very cold.

- I presume sir means "Eau De Vichy."

- Yeah, that's what I said.

- So now you gonna tell
me what this is all about?

- Madam has a request?

I have an extensive repertoire.

- Uh, how 'bout "Don't It
Make My Brown Eyes Blue"?

- I'm afraid I'm not that familiar

with the contemporary classics.

- Of course not.

- How 'bout the march from act three

of Wagner's "Lohengrin"?

- I think you mean act two.

- I was wondering when we
were gonna get together,

but is this like a proposal or something?

- "Something," my ass.

Don't say you didn't
remember our anniversary.

I've been looking after you a year now.

A year this very day.

- C'est bon, sir?

- You may pour.

- To our anniversary.

- And the oldest profession.

- The what?

- Uh, prostitution

is commonly known as
the oldest profession.

- It sure makes me feel old.

I'll drink to that.

This tastes exactly like water.

- It's sparkling mineral water.

It's good for the liver.

You ought a lay off the booze.

It's got a lot of calories.

No, put it out.

- Hmm?
- We're in a non-smoking area.

Put it out.

- Well, why don't we move
to a smoking area, then?

- You wanna take care of yourself?

Smoking is bad for your health.

- So is fucking scabby tricks.

And what is this?

- It's calamari and lychees.

What's it look like?

- I don't know, but I've
seen one before, I think.

What is calamar?

- It's a kind of octopus,
you stupid moron.

It's fucking octopus.

- Ha! I should've known.

They got testicles, don't they?

Though I thought they had eight of 'em.

Looks like you've been short-changed.

Looks like a dick.

Tastes like a dick.

Look, all I want is just

an old-fashioned piece of apple pie

with loads of ice cream on it!
- Yeah, well, forget it!

- What, what you say?
- What, have you gone deaf?

I said forget it!

You're as fat as a fucking pig!

- I'm, I am?

I guess he was right.

I smoke too much, eat junk
food, and drink like a fish.

I mean, I gotta get some
satisfaction out of life

or it just ain't worth living.

Whoring ain't exactly the
job of the future, you know.

And working out, doing 50 sit-ups

when I could have been
sleeping wasn't my idea of fun.

Well, it had its moments, I guess.

Our first year together as pimp and whore

and Blake's idea of an anniversary gift.

- You're gonna see a
big change in yourself.

Psychologically.

Physically,

you're gonna be a lot more body conscious.

- Great.

Does that mean I'm gonna lose my stomach?

- You'll be
a lot more committed to self.

And to the one you love,

you'll have a special,
spiritual connection

because tattoos are forever.

- So are diamonds, but
they're a lot less painful.

That's the most pricks
I've had in 30 minutes.

For a while, he was right.

I felt kinda special.

Till one by one I found out

all of Blake's girls had one.

Hey, not always on the same body part.

I wasn't special.

I was just a piece of branded cattle.

One of the herd.

You see, what pimps do

is they build you up and
then they break you down.

It's kinda like being a hostage.

They just know how to make you need 'em.

They don't love you.

Pimps don't love nobody.

Give me another martini, please.

Air dry.

Getting as bad as Bill was.

Fuck it.

The minute I laid eyes on him,

I thought he was real cute.

It was back home at the local dive

where they had music and beer

and you could hang out and shoot pool.

Like I did with my friend Martha.

It was back in the days when I
was living the straight life.

I feel like I'm gonna die.

- Put your bet on him.

- Think I should?
- What's a buck?

- Yeah, you're right.

But don't you think it
will look kinda weird,

me going over there

and putting money down
right in front of him?

- No, he'll just think
you're some horny bar slut

that wants to fuck him.

- Stop.

What if I want to marry him?

- Then I think I better bet on him.

- 10, nine, eight,

seven, six, five,

four, three, two, one!

- Oh, fuck it.

He wasn't my type anyway.

I didn't like men much anyway.

- Thanks for believing in me.

This is for you.

- Congratulations.

- Oh, it was nothing.

- No, it was, really.

- You think so?

- Yeah.

Hey, you shouldn't put your
talents down, you know?

- It's an inherited talent.

My old man's a big drinker.

- Really?

So is mine.

- No kidding?

- Yeah, well, that's what
my mom told me anyway.

- You wanna dance or something?

- Okay.

- All right.

- Here, you can have this prize.

- Oh, gee, thanks.

- For a while, it was great.

We really loved each other.

The way when you're a little girl

and imagine how love would feel.

The way your mom always
told you love should be.

So I thought getting married

was the best thing that
ever happened to me.

I guess it was too good to last.

Well, that was one thing
my mom didn't tell me.

Oh, shit!

Well, I guess playing house

is sorta fun when you're seven years old.

But when you're seven months
pregnant, well, forget it.

I mean, when he starts
getting home later and later,

drunker and drunker

'cause of all the
overtime he's putting in,

when you know he's been fired
and he's been cheating on you.

Well, that'd be tough on any relationship.

Still, I couldn't stop loving the bastard.

So I kept on trying to please him.

Getting all dolled up for dinner

and setting the table pretty

and making his favourite salad.

All I really wanted was
a good night's sleep.

And you never knew how he was gonna react.

It was like living on the
edge of a fucking volcano.

Shut up.

Chrissy.

Shh.

Come on, baby.

We're gonna go see Grandma.

Let's get out of this dump.

- I want my daughter.

I'm not an alcoholic.

Give me Karen.

- Take it off, then.

- Give me my daughter, please.

- Yeah, this is what you want.

- No.
- This is what it's about,

huh, Bambi?
- I want my daughter.

- Finally,
I get it through my head.

Okay, I married a loser.

No great loss.

A lot of people do it.

So I leave Bill and I move in with my mom.

Then I get this dream
job at a sleazy diner.

One night it was late, I was
tired, and the tips were shit.

I just worked a double shift
when this guy walks in.

It was like he walked
into the wrong restaurant.

- What's on the menu tonight?

- Chef Pierre is gone and
we're closing in five minutes.

I can offer you a piece
of cantaloupe, though.

- How's your cantaloupe?

- Ripe.

Is that what you wanted?

- How 'bout a drink instead?

- Sorry, we don't serve-

- What do you say I take
you somewhere that does?

- What, me, you mean...?

I'm not much of a drinker.

In fact, I'm not a big drinker at all.

Sorry.

- Keep the change.

- Thanks.

- I'm a big tipper.

- I have to go home.

I got a-

- You have a what?

- A cat.

I have a cat I got to feed, but,

but I think I might have already fed him.

I would have gone out with him anyway.

It was more money than
I made in a whole week.

I thought, "Who cares?

What do I have to lose?"

I'll just lock up.

It'll only be a minute.

Doing it for money.

It's like losing your virginity.

The next time, it's a whole lot easier.

Jerking off these jerks under a table

in the only classy bar in town

was no fucking joyride, trust me.

But it sure beat the hell
out of waiting tables.

But at least I could pay
my mom for babysitting.

And I knew my little
boy was safe with her.

It was a real nice arrangement.

Till she went and died on me.

Sometimes I wish I was dead.

But I'm not brave enough to do it myself.

But I'm not afraid of dying.

I mean, even if there's nothing.

No heaven, I mean.

Even if heaven ain't like they say it is.

All saints and angels.

I mean,

even if it's just peace and quiet.

I could sure use some of that.

Hell couldn't be any worse
than this now, could it?

The big tease.

They love it and they
think you love it, too.

They wanna hear all about it.

"Talk to me," they'd say.

I know what they mean now,
but at first I didn't.

"What do you want me to
talk about," I'd say.

"What do you like doing?"

I don't know.

I like watching TV.

"No, not that.

What am I doing to you?"

"What you doing to me?"

"Yeah.

Tell me, tell me.

What am I doing to you?"

I was still young.

I didn't know what they wanted me to say.

Now when they ask,

I know what they want.

As soon as they get their dick
out and ask me if I like it.

I whisper to them,

"Oh, honey, it's a beautiful cock.

It's so big and hard."

"What do you want me to
do with it," they'd say.

I'd love to really tell 'em.

But instead, I say,

"Oh, my pussy's really hungry

for your big, hard cock.

Come on, give it to me.

Give it to me."

Yeah.

But then there are those

who want to do the talking themselves.

I mean, talk dirty.

Sometimes it feels like they just-

they just want to rip you open.

Hey, be a little gentle, huh?

- Shut your fucking trap.

- So I just shut up and
let 'em do their thing.

I close my eyes.

I don't want to see the
hate in their faces.

They must have terrible lives.

The men, I mean.

Something must have happened
to 'em to make 'em like that.

They weren't born that way, were they?

Maybe they're henpecked at home.

Or bossed around at work

so they feel humiliated.

They want to humiliate somebody back.

Makes 'em feel better.

More important.

It's nothing personal.

I know that.

They don't even want sex, you know.

It's more like,

like revenge.

Yeah.

That's it.

They only want revenge.

I feel sorry for their wives.

Most of the men who come
in here must be married.

And they come here

because we'll do the things

their wives and girlfriends won't do.

Head.

That's what most of 'em ask for.

I mean, I don't see why

a woman would have a problem

with sticking her man's cock in her mouth?

I mean, I guarantee you

if he ain't sticking it in her mouth,

he'll be sticking it in somebody else's.

Could be hers, could be mine.

We're substitutes.

I bet you

he's got his eyes shut

thinking of his wife right now.

Me?

I don't wanna see another
dick as long as I live.

Ugh.

I've lost count
of how many I've had.

Must be miles.

I used to love sex.

I used to love everything about it.

Now when I go to bed,

all I want to do is go to sleep.

And I bet you I've had more
sex in places like this

than I've ever had in a bed.

I should write a book about it.

"The Toilets I Have Known."

I met my best friend in one.

Well, she was.

I was working downtown.

Hanging around looking for tricks

when this girl comes along
acting like she's stoned

or drunk or something.

And then I see the blood
and I just look at her

and I say, "What the fuck?"

And she just says, "Blake."

And I see the bastard had cut her

right across the stomach.

And then I thought,

"If I don't do something fast,
she's gonna bleed to death."

So I go rushing her into the theatre

and I yell to the chick in
the box, "Get an ambulance."

I guess she must have just got the manager

'cause after a while,

this bitch comes busting in
and starts laying into us.

Calling us dirty, filthy sluts.

And I'm trying to stop the blood,

but it just won't fucking stop.

And the poor girl, she's
starting to go into shock

and the manager's yelling at us

about AIDS and trying to kick us out.

Without getting too close, of course.

But the blood just kept coming.

And then in comes Katie.

She sorta took control
right away, you know.

I mean, even got the manager to help out.

She told her to imagine
it was her daughter.

If it wasn't for Katie,

I don't think the girl
would've pulled through.

Katie wanted to know why
she didn't go to the cops.

I laughed.

I told her Blake pays the
cops to look the other way.

Anyway, he got her a few weeks later,

but this time, the knife
went straight through.

That was a terrible week.

I don't know what the hell I
would've done without Katie.

She looked after me like a sister would.

If I would've had one.

Sometimes I wonder why
my parents ever had me.

They must've been drunk.

I guess I was why Dad left home.

Katie was the only person

I ever knew that never wanted.

I wanted.

I needed.

There were nights I needed
so badly just to be held.

For my birthday,

Katie bought me a book.

Nobody ever gave me a book before.

It's called "Animal Farm"

and I'm telling you, it's just like life.

It's about animals, but it's not for kids.

It's the best book I ever read.

Well, it's the only book I ever read.

And on the inside cover she wrote,

"To Liz

with love and all beautiful things.

K."

Sometimes I used to open
it just to read that.

I just loved being with her.

She even turned me on

to serious music for a while.

She was so smart.

She could make almost
anything sound interesting.

Katie worked as a bartender.

She made good money, but what a waste.

I mean, she went to junior college.

I kept telling her she
should get a good job

like a teacher or something.

She'd make a great teacher.

God, I wish I had her brains.

And I told her that.

She said there's nothing
wrong with my brain,

only my education.

My education?

That can't be right

'cause I hardly finished school.

I mean, I haven't been
in school for so long

that I can't even remember anything.

That was the end of Katie and me.

Sharp as a razor.

And I'd use it, too.

Once I'd use it on myself.

But now I'd fight back.

That's Katie.

Huh.

Dignity.

Oh, it's you.

You suddenly takin' a liking to rubbers?

- I thought you might have
taken a disliking to them.

- Not on your life.

- But I'm exceedingly clean.

- I'm sure you are.

But look, it's no use sitting there

because I'm not gonna change my mind.

I don't care how much you pay me.

And I'm not gonna do any business

with you sitting here either,

so why don't you just fuck off?

And take your little horn with you.

- Why do you insist upon a rubber?

Crabs, clap, syphilis,
herpes, AIDS, chlamydia.

Is that enough for you
or do you want more?

I mean, with all that,

what could you possibly
have against a rubber, huh?

- It's not that I have
anything against them.

It's just that they are
usually too small for me.

- You gotta be kidding.

- No, I am not.

I have a very stout member.

- Well, that's the
best news I've heard all day.

I'm thrilled for you.

Congratulations.

- Thank you.

But the pleasure is yours.

- Oh, Jesus.

You guys still believe
that shit, don't you?

"In a recent nationwide survey,

eight out of 10 prostitutes
who expressed preference

said that their vagina's
preferred small members."

It sounds like it turns you
on, but it does nothing for me.

Comprende?

It's the cops.
I suggest you get the hell outta here.

You go down the street
and then you hang a left.

You go onto the freeway there

and it's right there on your right.

You can't miss it. The gas
station is open all night.

- Uh-huh.

Thank you.

You are most kind.

- You're welcome.

- Come here, sweetheart.

Now then, you have two choices, honey.

You can haul ass yourself

or we haul you off and take you in.

- Yes, sir.

Sorry, sir.

Really, sir. But...

I was just wondering,
were you gonna have me

jog alongside of you

or were you gonna cuff me
to your spoke?

Shit.

Cops.

Now there's a confused bunch for ya.

They don't know what they want,

so they're always giving you a choice.

Like this last time.

This vice cop,

he says to me, "Give me head
or you're going to jail."

So I give him head.

And then the fucker
busts me for jaywalking.

I didn't use the crosswalk
on the way to his dick.

Well, excuse me, Officer,

but if your dick had been long enough,

I wouldn't have had to
cross the fucking street.

I wish the Beach Boys had busted me.

I could use a night in jail.

Just for the rest, you know?

Hey.

- Missed you, baby.

So how much did we do tonight?

- It's, it's been slow, man.

- Oh, yeah?

So what have you done?

- Hey, I told you.

It's been slow.

- So you've probably done, what, four 30s.

You might have caught a 50 or two?

What is that?

Four 30s, we're talking 120.

- Just forget about it.

- Wait a minute.

What did I say?

- You said four 30s, but-

- Four 30s and two 50s.

Well, it's been slow, right?

- Yeah.

- So let's say you only did

one 50.

You might have gotten
bored and did a quick 20.

Hey, wait a minute.

What the fuck am I thinking?

I forgot about yesterday.

You took off yesterday.

So, uh, what have you been
doing since yesterday?

What are you doing around here?

Welfare work?

You've been with that bookworm again, hmm?

That dyke Katie.

- No, no, no.

- I told you once before,
reading is bad for your eyes.

Hey, man, I swear.

I haven't seen Katie.

I got this trick and he took
me down here to this motel

and it was an all-nighter.

I just slept in.

I couldn't help it, man.

- You should've made plenty, right?

- He robbed me!

- Bullshit!

- I told you, it's been slow.
- Me spare some change?

- Don't give me that slow
shit. You stink of booze.

- I'm telling you the truth.

- How 'bout a dollar, then, Mon?

- Get the fuck outta here!

Where is it?

Where's the rest of it?

- Here, Mon.

Take the dollar!

Leave the woman alone!

- Buzz off!

- Hey!

Take your foot off of him!

You're hurting him!

- Listen to the woman.
- Leave him alone!

I don't got any more.

I swear on my mother.

- Well, your mother's dead.

So you better swear on somebody else,

cause dust don't count in my book.

I'm gonna be back in an hour.

You better have done four by then.

I don't care what you
have to do to catch cock.

Lie in the street with your
fucking legs in the air.

Just do it.

Was that third finger left
hand or third finger right?

- Take your pick!

- I got it.

Who the fuck does she think she is?

You only need one like that.

One bad apple

and all the others rot.

And if she thinks that she can dump me

like I was one of her
fucking tricks, well,

she's got a big surprise coming.

- Protection.

He is my protection.

I mean, we can't even
carry a knife anymore.

You get caught, they bust you

on a concealed weapons charge.

You work on your back, you
gotta have a middleman.

Or you could end upon
your back in the morgue.

- I got somebody that will fix her up.

And he'll fix her for good.

They'll never recognise her.

Even if they do, who cares?

She's a whore.

Hey, it was a trick, wasn't it?

- I mean, there are a lot of
freaky tricks around, you know?

- Sometimes tricks, they,

they freak out.

What can you do?

- There's this one, right,

he was young, but he was small.

He was vicious, he starts
sticking it in me right away.

All of a sudden, he starts kissing me.

Man, I never kiss nobody.

You never do.

I mean, I'll suck their
cock, they can lick me,

they can fuck me, but no kissing.

And no fingers neither.

I mean, you should see their nails.

I mean, who knows where
their fingers have been?

No sucking my breasts neither.

So anyway, this guy, he
starts trying to kiss me.

So I said to him, "Hey,
man, I don't kiss."

He didn't seem to mind.

All of a sudden he says to me,

"Is it nice?"

I said to him, "Is what nice?"

He says, "This,"

and pushes it in even harder.

Now I know he wanted me
to talk dirty, right?

I was still pretty new to the game.

I didn't understand.

So I said, "It's all right, I guess."

"All right?

All right?" he says.

"Is that all?"

And then he pulls out.

So I asked him why he pulled out.

And he says,

"Because you're not enjoying it."

I said, "Hey, I don't have to enjoy it.

You paid for it.

You enjoy it."

And he goes,

"But I can't enjoy it

if I know you're only doing
it because I paid you."

Well, if you want
passion, that costs extra.

By then his time was up, so I
asked him if he was finished.

"Finished?" he says.

"I haven't even started yet.

Kiss me."

So he yanks my head and he
starts trying to kiss me.

And I'm trying to push him away

and then he starts shouting to me,

"You fucking cunts!

You're all the same!

You're dead, all of ya!

No feelings!"

And then he starts
trying to kiss me again.

Then he asks for his money back.

I said, "Sorry.

No deposit, no return."

Then I tried to get up and get out.

Suddenly, he grabs my bag with one

and my hair with the other

and he starts banging my
head against the floor.

I mean, I thought my fucking
brain was gonna explode.

I'm telling you, he must have slammed
my head about six times

before that damn door finally opened.

- You oughta be more
careful with who you date.

- That's when I realised,

you can't work without a pimp.

So I became one of Blake's girls.

Well, it seems to me

- like this pimp set you up, man.

- Yeah.

I thought of that, too.

And one day I put it to him point-blank.

- And point-blank he denied it.

- Practically knocked my
goddamn teeth down my throat.

- Me and my girls.

I look after 'em.

I'm out all hours
keeping an eye out on 'em

just to make sure they're safe.

I drive around just checking.

I know all the places that
they go with their dates.

Sometimes I follow 'em.

You see, we're like business partners.

They fuck

and I manage.

- Tell me something.

How much does he make off you?

What's his profit margin?

- What's that got to do with it?

- Have some herb.

- If I'm not paying for their rent,

I'm paying for their
goddamn fines.

I pay for their clothes,

their check-ups.

I pay for their rubbers.

Even at wholesale,
they're still expensive.

Or as I tell you,

they don't come cheap.

- So how much you say he takes?

- 100%.

- Mon, it's like you're
getting screwed twice.

- Hmm.

- Look, it's just like I
was managing a factory.

This, it just happens
to be a pussy factory.

- This is exactly why I'm
trying to get away from him.

- Even factories treat
their employees better.

At least they get benefits.

- Mm.

- But it's still a factory

with employees

and somebody like me running things.

I got what they call

"entrepreneurial flair."

I can see a need

and I fill a demand.

- The man is a slave driver.

- Holy shit.

Just look at that one.

Dumb kid.

She supposed to be selling sex.

It looks like she's waiting
for the goddamn bus.

Okay, so it's hot, your shoes hurt,

and she had an abortion last week.

Guess who picked up the tab on that one.

- Everybody starts off

by thinking they're
gonna make a lot of money

and get out of it in a couple of years.

But it never happens.

You just stay doing it.

I've seen some pretty kids

with faces like dogs
after only six months.

You know,

they say you can tell a
woman that's been doing this.

That it shows in her face.

I mean, look at mine.

Does it show?

In my eyes?

That's where it starts, they say.

In the eyes and then in the mouth.

All hard.

- They're wrong.

- Yeah.

They're full of shit.

- You better believe they're full of shit.

- Yeah, they're full of shit.
You know why?

Because it starts in here.

It's like a cancer

and then it just starts

eating away at you until
there's nothing left.

Just an empty shell.

- They're oversexed and
they're born like that.

Nature's rejects from the moment

that they came into this world.

All they have to offer is their bodies,

so they might as well get paid for it.

They're born with a price tag.

If somebody gave 'em a million bucks,

they'd be back on the streets in a week.

They can't help themselves.

There's nothing you can do about it.

It's like being born Black or White.

It's just the way they are.

- I must be some use to somebody.

I mean, there must be a reason for me.

Right?

- You know, years ago,
when I first got started,

before I got things
straightened out around here,

I was always getting busted

for pandering, pimping.

- Do you think what I do is wrong?

- I think what a pimp does is wrong.

- I think it's the law that's wrong.

- Katie called him a parasite.

- Parasite.

Parasite.

I like that word.

Parasite.

- Look, if it was illegal

to live off the earnings of others,

then the stock exchange
would be shut down tomorrow.

And all the employment agencies

would be charged with pimping.

I'm like an employment agency myself,

only I'm not legal.

And I don't want to be illegal.

- You know, you should be legal.

Then there wouldn't be a need for him.

- You make it legal and
I'll open an office.

Until then,

this is my office.

Some of our regulars, they phone me.

And they tell me what
they want and I deliver.

- Maybe I'm nothing
more than takeout food.

Easy, quick, and affordable.

- I'm sort of a dial-a-ride service.

And I'm real charitable, too.

I always make sure I give a little back.

I even make regular donations

to the policemen's pension fund.

- Do you think for some men,

even a few,

that I'm a cure for loneliness?

Maybe a short-term cure.

The more I think about it,

the more I'd really
like to change my life.

If only I could find a decent man.

Or even a man that just wanted a,

what you call it?

You know, they got a wife

and then they got a a mistress.

Yeah, that's it.

I'd really love that.

Where in the hell am I gonna find that?

- Hey, you wanna move in?

- Can you afford the down payment?

- Who knows?

Come here.

What sign are you?

- What sign am I?

- Quickly.

- I'm a stop sign.

- Ow!

You're a Scorpio.

You're a Scorpio, aren't you?

- Yeah, I'm a Scorpio.

Hey, how'd you know?
- Shit.

I need a Virgo.

Do you know where I can find one?

- I'll be a Virgo for 40.

- No, no.

I need a real one.

And my cards say I can only pay 10.

You have the most beautiful eyes.

I'll catch you in another lifetime.

Bye.

- What a weirdo.

I wonder what he was into.

Eh, I don't mind

something different once in a while, but...

I don't do nothing dirty.

You know? I mean...

I don't take golden showers

and I don't give golden showers.

But, well...

there was this one guy, right,

he used to like watching
me take a dump, okay?

I mean, he used a flashlight.

Trouble is, he always seemed to show up

after I'd already had one.

I haven't seen him around in a while.

Guess he found someone more regular.

Yeah, but I got this other trick,

he's an older guy, you know.

Real soft-spoken.

I swear, he could be a judge
or doctor or something.

And we have a regular date
every Thursday at three o'clock.

And he always pays me
with brand-new money.

Get the money first.

That's my motto.

But before I could get my pants down,

he's shaking his head.

So I offer him a tit job.

Strike two.

When I realised he
didn't want straight sex,

I thought, "Hello, another nut."

And I let him know I
didn't do nothing dirty.

I don't do anything dirty.

Then he just nods and points to my shoe.

For a minute, I thought he
was gonna fuck me with it.

I mean, you wouldn't believe

some of the things they've
tried to stick up me.

Then he gives me this piece of paper

and tells me not to read
it until he says so.

Finally, he gets his dick out, right?

What do you want me to do?

- Read me the note.

- About now, he's
starting to get a hard on.

"You naughty boy, Johnny.

You dirty little boy.

Mommy's very, very angry with you"?

- Louder.

- And before you know
it, he's beating his meat

and licking my shoe.

"You naughty boy, Johnny.

You dirty little boy.

Mommy's very, very angry with you.

You naughty boy, Johnny!

You dirty little boy!

Mommy's very, very angry with you!

You naughty boy, Johnny!

You dirty little boy!

Mommy's very, very, very,
very angry with you"!

- Keep it up.

- "You naughty boy, Johnny.

You dirty little boy, Johnny.

Mommy's very, very angry with you."

Different strokes for different folks.

Who can figure it?

But that's how Johnny came.

Yeah, I know my lines now,

but he's always quick.

That's what you want, quick.

I mean, some of 'em take forever.

The nervous ones, they
can be a real bitch.

Sometimes they never get a hard-on at all.

They're too embarrassed to
ask for their money back.

Hey, they wouldn't get it back anyway.

I mean, if you go to a
restaurant and you order a meal

and you suddenly lose your appetite,

it's not my fault, is it?

The best guys are the
ones in the lunch hour.

They're always in a rush.

Or the older guys.

They're good, too.

I mean, sometimes I'm
putting the rubber on

and then all of a sudden, oops.

It's all over.

"Oh, honey.

I needed that, "I'd say to them

and finish them off with my hand

and pretend to be real
disappointed and stuff.

You know, so they don't feel cheated.

But you know who the worst ones are?

The young ones.

I mean, they're always laying
these headtrips on you.

Like, "Usually I don't
have to pay for it."

I mean, I don't want to hear that.

I don't got time for that shit.

And then they start holding out on you

like they're doing you some
big favour or something.

Thanks, but no, thanks.

I mean, for them, I need
a metre like a taxi.

No, I like the ones that
just want to hurry up,

get it over with, and go home.

Yeah, I'm going home.

That's Chris.

Handsome, isn't he?

He's so smart.

He's six now.

Yeah, he's at that age where,

well, you know, he's grown up and

well, if he was living with me,

how would I explain it?

I mean, I work at night,

so you could say I got a night job.

But then when I go to jail

and I don't come home during the day,

I mean, how do I explain that?

Everybody says he's smart.

You should hear him read.

He knows all the animals.

I taught him that.

He loves animals.

He sent me this painting of his cat.

"This is Mandy," he wrote on the back.

"She sleeps in the washing machine."

He's with a nice couple.

They don't have any kids of their own.

He was sort of adopted.

After my mom died,

the courts said um...
I was an unfit mother.

Yeah, that's when I moved on.

Chris seems happy enough, though.

I wish he was with me, but...

I can see him whenever I want to.

But I have to call first, but...

uh... I don't go back there too much.

It kinda upsets me.

Last time I went back there, I
didn't tell him I was coming.

I stood outside his school

and waited for the class to end.

He was wearing the jeans I'd
sent him for his birthday.

They're probably still a
little too big for him,

but he'll grow into them.

His foster mother Rachel,

she was there waiting to take him home.

I could hardly stand to see him go,

but I don't think

I'll go back there again, you know.

No, not for a while anyway.

I don't want Chris growing up hating me.

I don't want him to be
ashamed of his mother.

I know he calls Rachel mom, but...

he knows who his real mother is.

What I wouldn't give
for a nice, cool shower.

No, Chris is better off where he is.

For now, I know that.

He looks just like his father.

We're still married.

Chances are we'd still be together

if he hadn't cheated on me.

I never cheated on him.

Hey, what I do isn't
exactly making love, is it?

Hate would be closer to the truth.

I mean, it isn't even sex

because sex has some feelings.

I mean, if you like somebody, that's sex.

Well, I don't like any of these shits.

No, there must be a
better word for what I do.

But I don't know what it is.

It's mechanical.

No feelings.

No.

I mean, maybe if you really
psyched yourself up for it,

you could feel something.

Who wants to go through all that?

I mean, when I was younger,

I used to make believe

somebody out here was loving me.

But then I got to the point
where I just hated tricks.

I hate 'em.

And they don't like us, neither.

I mean, really like us.

Oh, they want us, all right.

I didn't say that.

But like us?

No.

No way.

And you never know who you're with.

A total stranger or your own father.

You just don't know.

I mean, they're like Jekyll and Hyde.

You gotta watch 'em 'cause
they're always up to something.

- 20 bucks, sweetie.

20 bucks.

Okay?

- Yeah, try her.

She'll probably do it for
a food stamp, asshole.

- I'm ready.

You're cute.

- Poor old whore.

That could be me someday.

Nah.

I'd kill myself first.

- In your professional opinion

what do you think my chances are?

- I'd say your chances are 50/50.

And for 50, I'm willing
to take the gamble.

Let's go.

- Oh, there we go.

Oh, I want your big, hard cock inside.

Oh, yeah.

That's it.

There it is.

Oh, yeah, baby.

That feels good.

Oh, honey, I'm so hot for you.

Oh, yeah.

Give it to me.

Mm.

Oh, yeah.

Honey, go, go.

Oh, I really want it bad.

Oh, give it to me, honey.

Oh, yeah.

Go, baby, oops.

Oh, that's it, big boy.

Come on. Stick it in.

- Oh!

- There we go. It's okay, honey.

Hang on.

- Oh!

- There we go.

Don't worry about anything, honey.

Mommy's going to take care of you.

Mm.

Do it to me, honey. Do it, do it.

I know you can.

I know you can do it.

Oh, yeah, honey.

Mm.

Oh, baby.

Yeah, that's it.

That's it.

That's it.

Yeah, oh.

Do it.

I know you can.

Yeah.

Okay?

See you in church, honey.

Don't just sit there, put yourself away.

Hey, I know I'm good,
but this is ridiculous.

Come on, man.

Stop joking.

Hey.

Hey, it ain't funny, man.

Hey.

Hey!

Oh, God.

Oh, God!

Oh!

Breathe!

- What the fuck are you kissing him for?

- Oh fuck off.

- Don't fucking kiss him!

- Let go of me!

- What the fuck are you kissing him for?

Shit, what the fuck did you do to him?

- Nothing!
- The fucker's dead.

- We gotta do something!

We gotta call an ambulance!

Stop it, damn it!

- Where's his wallet?

- Leave him alone!

Don't!

You stop it!

You stop it!

No, God damn it!

No!

- Now it's your turn.

- He wasn't just a trick!

He had a life!

- It was disposable.

Just like you.

Now which finger was it?

Huh?

What was it you said?

- I said take your fucking pick!

- Oh, yeah?

You stupid fucking whore.

Oh, yeah?

Well, I pick both!

First I'll break this one

and then I'll break the other one.

- You can break them all!

Don't you fucking get it?

There's nothing left
for me to-

- You never gave a fuck about yourself,

but about your kid?

Huh?

What about him?

- You'll never find him!

You don't know where he lives!

- Oh, no?

I've always known!

- Bullshit!

- Yeah, I make it my business to know!

2627 Crowley Drive!

The blue house on the corner!

You know what I'm gonna do?

I'm gonna give him a few years

and then I'll turn him out on the street.

He'll make more money than you ever did!

- I'll kill you first!

- Bullshit!

You never did know when to quit, did you?

- Someone sure gonna be in
trouble with the police.

This guy's licence just expired.

Thanks for the popcorn!

- Yeah, thanks for the movie.