All language subtitles for Sin.City.2005.1080p.Unrated.ReCut.Extended.BluRay.DDP.5.1.x264-BiTOR.eng

Just one hour to go.
My last day on the job.

Early retirement. Not my idea.

Doctor's orders. Heart condition.

"Angina", he calls it.

I'm polishing my badge,
getting myself used to the idea

of saying goodbye to it.
It, and 30-odd years

of protecting and serving and tears

and blood and terror
and triumph it represents.

I'm thinking about Eileen's slow smile.

About the thick, fat steaks
she picked up at the butcher's today.

And I'm thinking about
the one loose end I haven't tied up.

A young girl who's out there somewhere,

helpless in the hands
of a drooling lunatic.

Damn it, Hartigan, I won't let you do
this. You're gonna get yourself killed.

You're gonna get us both killed.
I won't let you. I'm warnin' you.

Let go of my coat, Bob.

You're draggin' me down with you.

I'm your partner. They can kill me, too.
I ain't puttin' up with that.

I'm gettin' on the horn,
calling for backup.

Sure, Bob. We'll just wait.
Sit on our hands while that Roark brat

gets his sick thrills with victim
number four. Victim number four!

Nancy Callahan, age 11. And she'll
be raped and slashed to ribbons.

And that backup that we're waitin' on
will just so happen to show up

just late enough for Roark
to get back to his US Senator daddy.

Take a deep breath, Hartigan.

Settle down and think straight.

You're pushin' 60
and you got a bum ticker.

You ain't savin' anyone.

You got a great attitude, Bob.

Real credit to the force, you are.

Eileen's at home waitin' for you.
Think about Eileen.

Heck, Bob...

maybe you are right.

I'm glad to hear you're
finally talkin' sense.

Hell of a way to end a partnership.

Hell of a way to start my retirement.

Nancy Callahan, age 11.

For all I know, she's dead already.

You've been a very good girl, Nancy.

You've been very quiet.

Don't be scared.

We're gonna be
taking you home soon.

But first, we're going
to introduce you to somebody.

He's a very nice man.

Halfway to the warehouse where
Weevil said they took her, and it hits.

Wicked spot of indigestion.

At least that's what I pray it is.

Light-hearted
and momentary digression.

The briefest indulge-ment
in automotive pleasure.

For cheap thrills.
Such short-lived durability, Mr Shlubb.

You would risk engender-ating ill will
on the part of our employers.

Burt Shlubb and Douglas Klump:

two any-dirty-job-there-is thugs
with delusions of eloquence.

This Jaguar you so pin-headedly covet,

remanded to our custody,
though it may be,

remains the property
of the son of Senator Roark.

Gotta keep this quiet.
Take 'em down fast.

A dent, the merest scratch thereupon,

and before-mentioned consequences
which I made mention

shall surely be athwart us.

Catch your breath.
Give your heart time to slow down.

But it won't slow down.

Get over it.

She needs you.

We're all done here, Benny.

Let's give them some time together.
Give them some privacy.

Be with you in a minute, Lenny.

I'm making sure
they get along really well.

What kind of beast couldn't get along
with a precious little girl like this?

You must be awfully scared now.

But you've got nothing to be scared of.

All we're gonna do
is have a nice little talk.

That's all. Just a nice talk.
Just you and me.

Don't you cry now.

Doctor said it'd be like this.

Just take the pill he gave you.

No need to play it quiet.

Not anymore.

Breathe steady, old man.
Prove you're not completely useless.

What the hell?
Go out with a bang.

He likes to hear 'em scream.

I've seen his victims
and their twisted little faces,

all wide-mouthed and bug-eyed, frozen
in their last horrible moment of living.

No screams. Either I'm just in time,
or I'm way too late.

It's nothing. Barely a flesh wound.
On your feet, old man.

Roark. Give it up.

Let the girl go.

You can't do a goddamn thing to me.

You know who I am.

You know who my father is!

You can't touch me,
you piece-of-shit cop.

Look at you. You can't even lift
that cannon you're carrying.

Sure, I can.

Cover your eyes, Nancy.
I don't want you watching this.

I mean it, baby.
Cover your eyes right now.

I take his weapons away.

Both of them.

Hell of a way to end a partnership.

For God's sakes,
don't make it any worse.

- Don't make me kill you.
- Doin' fine, Bob.

Never better.

I'm ready to kick your ass.

Keep him talking. Buy time.

Just a few more minutes.
Till the backup gets here.

Sit down and stay down.
I'll kill you if I have to.

Keep his mind off the girl,
skinny little Nancy.

Can't kill her
once backup gets here.

Run home, Nancy.
Run for your life.

Hey. Don't listen to him.
He's a crazy man.

- What a tough man you are.
- You stay right where you're at.

You shoot your partner in the back...

then you try to scare a little girl.
Maybe I'll pull my spare rod,

plug you a couple of times,
show you how it's done.

We could've worked something out.
Sit down or I'll blast you in half.

- You're so slow, you'll never stop me.
- Sit down!

You'll never be able to stop me.

I finally sit down,
Just like you told me to.

The sirens are close now.

She'll be safe.

Things go dark.
I don't mind much.

Getting sleepy. It's OK.

She'll be safe.

An old man dies,

a little girl lives.

Fair trade.

Just tell me it isn't true, John.

What they're saying
about you and that child.

It can't be true.

If you ever want to see me again...

say something now.

We're looking at
your basic mountain of DNA evidence.

The testimony of your own partner,

corroboration by six eyewitnesses,
and that's just so far

and there's your own silence.

I'll do what I can, but let us
just say you are good and screwed.

Come on, Hartigan,
what's holding you back?

What's shuttin' you up?

This whole thing stinks to high heaven.

I'm not the only one
on the force who smells it.

Sure, I'll rinse your bedpan
and wipe your butt.

That's my job.

But don't expect any friendly
chitchat out of me, mister.

I heard what you done to that girl.

I hope they throw away the key.

Evenin', officer.

I don't have to introduce myself, do I?

You read the papers.

This being an election year,
you've seen plenty of my picture.

You know who I am and what I can do.

And I'm doin' you, Hartigan.

Cold and hard, I'm doing you.

You blew my son's ear off.

You blew his arm off. You even
blew his nuts and his pecker off.

He's in a coma right now. They say
he may never come out of it. My boy.

He could've been the first Roark
to become the president

but you went and turned him into
a brain-damaged, dickless freak.

Pullin' that trigger
make you feel powerful?

Power don't come
from a badge or a gun.

Power comes from lying.

Lying big, and gettin' the whole
damn world to play along with you.

Once you got everybody agreeing

with what they know in their hearts
ain't true, you've got 'em by the balls.

There's what,
maybe 500 people in this hospital?

I could pump you full of bullets right
now, and I wouldn't even be arrested.

Everyone would lie for me,
everyone who counts.

Otherwise, their lies,
everything that runs Sin City,

it all comes tumbling down
like a pack of cards.

But I want you firm
and fit and healthy.

I'm even putting up cash of my own
to get you more surgery.

Fix that heart condition of yours.

You're gonna keep on living a long time.
I'm gonna make sure of that.

You're gonna be convicted of raping
that little brat, and shooting my boy.

You're gonna spend
the rest of your life in prison,

disgraced, destroyed...

alone.

Your wife?

You tell her the truth and she's dead.

You tell anybody the truth
and they're dead.

They won't let me testify.

I told the cops that you saved my life
and they just acted like I was crazy.

They talked my parents
into keeping me away.

They said that you'd done things
that you didn't do.

I told them you saved me
from that Roark creep,

but they won't even check me out
to see that I'm still a virgin.

I'm still a virgin, still alive,
thanks to you.

They got it all backwards.

Sometimes, the truth
doesn't matter like it ought.

But you'll always remember things right.

That's gonna mean a lot to me.

But stay away, Nancy.
They'll kill you if you don't stay away.

Don't visit me.

Don't write me.

Don't even say my name.

Maybe you won't let me visit,
but I'll still write to you, Hartigan.

I'll sign my letters "Cordelia".

That's the name of a really cool
detective in books I read.

I'll write you every week...
for forever.

Sure, kid.

Now, run on home.

It's not safe for you here.

Bye, Nancy.

I love you.

John Hartigan.

Mr Law and Order.

Mr By the Book.

Mr High and Mighty.

I gotta give you credit, being a
straight arrow for so damn many years

without it catching up with you.

It's catching up with you now,
friend of mine.

It's catching up with you but good.

Maybe I oughta look at him.
He doesn't look good.

He's hale and hearty, Tammy.

See?

He's the picture of health.

That Tammy, there,
she's fine, isn't she?

I rented her out of Old Town.

I wanted to show you what you won't
be getting any of, not in prison.

You hear me, Hartigan?

If you stop being stupid,
start playing along with us,

you might just get some of Tammy.

You see that? She flinched.

You make her sick.

She heard about you
and that little girl.

This is nothing but a price I promised
myself I'd pay, and I'm paying it.

You don't save a little girl's life,

then turn around
and throw her to the dogs.

Not in my book, you don't.

They want a confession.
They won't get it.

There was a letter from Nancy waiting
when they put me in solitary.

She calls herself "Cordelia",
just like she promised.

She makes no mention of anything
that would give her away.

At first, I figure
she'll send another note or two

before her young mind
moves on to better things.

But every Thursday,
another one arrives.

What a sweet kid.

I do my best to keep my hand
from shaking when I reach for it.

She's the only friend I've got,
the daughter I never had.

My sweet Cordelia.

Skinny little Nancy Callahan.

Eight years pass.

Then comes a Thursday
when I bound from my cot,

excited as a kid at Christmas,

only to find myself staring
at the damn floor of my damn cell,

looking for a letter from Nancy
that isn't there.

Then another Thursday with no letter.

Is she all right?

Did something happen to her?

Nothing.

Two months now.
Not a word from Nancy.

Did they find her?
Did they get to her?

Of course! Stupid old man.

Do your math.
Nancy's 19 years old.

How long did you expect her
to keep writing?

She was a saint to keep it up
as long as she did.

She's forgotten you, old man.

You're alone.

You're all alone.

This guy smells awful, like bad food.

Like a corpse left in a garbage dumpster
in the middle of summer.

He stinks so bad, I want to throw up.

Practically knocked my head off,
the bastard.

When I come to, I see it.

The same kind of envelope
Nancy always uses,

but there's no letter inside of it.

There's something soft,
something that ought to be alive,

a hunk of meat and bone
that ought to be the index finger

of the right hand of a 19-year-old girl.

How the hell did they find her?

She was so careful.

She never gave away
where she lives or where she works.

I've got to get out.
I've got to help her.

Nothing else matters.
Not my life and not my pride, either.

It's only one final
surrender they want.

You got me, Roark. You beat me.

I'll get it, Claire.

It's gotta be Marv.

He never sleeps and he's always
getting himself in deep.

Yeah.

What?

Hartigan, my God, it is you.
Yes, yes.

No, I'll get right on it,
right this second.

I'll be there by ten, I promise.

Lucille, she wouldn't give up
on me back before the trial.

She almost slugged me when I stopped her
from hiring a new attorney.

When I refused to plead innocent
she did slug me.

When she hears what I'm gonna do
she'll probably slug me again.

Hartigan.

Damn.

It's like they were waiting for my call.

They're ready to deal. They're
practically begging for a deal.

They're scared of something.

One of them promised me
you'd be out on parole

if you confessed and expressed regret
and all that other dumb crap

that, of course, we won't go for.

No, we're getting you out for time
served, no strings attached.

Then, we're gonna turn right around
and sue those sorry sons of bitches

for false prosecution.

You're gonna be exonerated.

You're gonna be a very rich man.

This isn't like you think it is.

Like hell it isn't. Doesn't take a
genius to figure out who framed you.

- But even Senator Roark...
- You hung up the phone too soon.

- We'll use the law, the press...
- Going to a lot of trouble for nothing.

He will never know what hit him.

I'm gonna confess.

Excuse me.

John Hartigan, crawling on his belly
in front of a parole board,

confessing to raping a little girl
and blubbering for mercy?

No, doesn't work.

I'm going in there and I'm telling them
I'm a twisted, wretched child molester.

I'm agreeing to anything
they want from me.

All right, you son of a bitch.

Let's get this over with.

I say everything they want to hear,
just the way they want to hear it.

I tell them I'm a twisted,
wretched child molester.

I agree to everything
they want from me.

I love you, Nancy.

It's a lot of miles into town, Hartigan.

- You care for a ride?
- Long as you stay in front of me.

Prison's made you paranoid.
Talk about water under the bridge.

Christ.

Eight years.

Yeah. Eight years.

Well, if it's any consolation to you...

you made me hate myself.

- Any word from Eileen?
- Yeah.

She got remarried four years ago.

She had two kids. I'm sorry, John.

Don't be. I'm glad.

Eileen always wanted kids.

She'll make a good mother.

Like you said, Bob,
water under the bridge.

Bob and I get on
with our fond farewells to each other,

then I go looking for the only
human being who means a damn to me:

Nancy.

How could they have found out it was
you writing all those letters to me?

How did they find out who you are?

And what have they done to you, baby?

Not a sound.

No sign of life.

Has Roark gone to all this trouble
Just to torture a broken old man,

like a kid poking at a fly
when he's already torn his wings off?

What has he done to Nancy?

It's like all she does
is read and study and write.

No diary, no phone numbers
or addresses written down anywhere.

Closest thing to a clue is a pack
of matches from a lousy saloon.

It's a long shot, but maybe
she's got some friends there.

A dead end.
Nancy wouldn't have anything to do

with a pack of drunks
and losers like this.

But if there's anything to be found,
the faintest lead to wherever Nancy is

or who kidnapped and mutilated her,
this is the place.

Excuse me, miss. Wondering if you
could help me. I'm looking for somebody.

Cold night like this, everybody's
looking for somebody, stranger.

It's not like that.
Her name is Nancy.

Eyes to the stage, pilgrim.

She's just warming up.

Skinny little Nancy Callahan.

She grew up.

She filled out.

Nancy Callahan, 19 years old.

And here I was,
expecting a skinny little bookworm,

maybe a bit too shy for her own good.

How little she told me about herself
in all her letters for all those years.

How the hell did they find her?

Then it hits me.

They were bluffing.

I've led them straight to her.

She hasn't spotted you yet.

Turn around and walk out the door.

Lead the creep outside.

Get that Beretta away
from him somehow, and kill him.

I'm just a horny ex-con
watching an exotic dancer.

Just a few seconds and she'll be safe.

No, Nancy. Don't notice me.

Don't recognise me.

There's no time to explain.

I've made a terrible mistake,
put you in terrible danger.

We need to get out of here
right this second.

Whatever you say, Hartigan.
Let me throw some clothes on.

And here I'd figured you'd forgotten
all about me. Me and my dumb letters.

Kept me going.

Kept me from killing myself.

Hurry up, will you?

- Maybe I should drive.
- Not a chance.

Nobody but me
can keep this heap running.

Besides, from the sound of things,
you might have to shoot somebody.

- I don't have a gun.
- Under the seat.

It's loaded and it works.

Yeah, this'll do.

Taken it to the range a couple of times.
Kicks like a mule.

Hartigan, there's so much
I've wanted to say to you.

You've never been
far from my thoughts.

I've lain awake nights,
thinking of you.

What are you talking about?

Keep driving, Nancy. Keep driving
and keep the car on the road!

She's counting on you, old man.

- What are you doing?
- Prove you're still worth a damn.

Try to keep it on the road, Nancy!

He's a decent shot.

He's got skill,
but he's in too much of a hurry.

Throwing away bullets
like they were candy.

He doesn't know how to take his time.

Aim careful
and look the devil in the eye.

Stop the car, Nancy.
Gotta confirm the kill.

- What?
- Stop the car, now!

Right. Stop the car, confirm the Kill.

Sorry. I got a little rattled.

It's OK. You did great.
Sit tight. I'll be right back.

No! Let me stay close.

Nothing can happen to me
when I'm with you.

Please? Let me stay close.

The stink. I almost gag.
His blood smells worse than he does.

- Jesus.
- And it's all over the place.

But the creep himself, he's gone.

We're out of time.

The sirens.
I used to welcome the sound.

There's nothing to do now
but find a place for the night,

get Nancy calmed down, and figure out
what on Earth I'm going to do next.

The stink... somehow it stays
with us all the way to the motel.

Nancy, I went to your apartment.

Your window was thrown wide open.
The rooms looked almost empty.

That's why I was sure
you'd been kidnapped.

My window? Robbed again?
That's the third time this year!

I swore if I ever saw you again,
I'd show you I grew up strong.

But there I was, just like before,
scared and helpless.

- I'm such an asshole.
- You should sit down.

You'll feel a little bit better
if you sit down.

I've never been all that good
with people.

When it comes to reassuring
a traumatised 19-year-old,

I'm as expert as a palsy victim
doing brain surgery with a pipe wrench.

It's always been you, Hartigan.

All these years.

It's just nerves
making you say that, Nancy.

You're just exhausted.
You need to sleep.

- Sleep with me.
- Stop it, Nancy!

Eight years.

Why do you think
I kept writing you those letters?

It wasn't just gratitude.

I tried to fall in love with boys.

Even thought I did once or twice.

But I was already in love... with you.

No.

There's wrong and there's wrong
and then there's this.

For God's sakes, you're just a kid!

I love you.

I love you, too.

With all my heart.

Cold shower. It helps.

No, Nancy.

Recognise my voice, Hartigan?

Recognise my voice,
you piece of shit cop?

I look different,
but I bet you can recognise my voice.

Sure. I recognise your voice, Junior.

Everything's gone straight to hell.

I've been suckered into betraying
the only friend I've got,

put her in the hands of a rapist
I thought I'd put down for good.

Suckered by a spoiled brat
son of a senator.

It's all gone to hell.

Klump, it's me.

I got a dead man needs to be fetched.

I want you to set me up for a party.

I've already got the girl,
you dumb shit!

Hey, it better be perfect
or I'm calling my dad!

My tools better be clean and sharp.

It better be ready!
It better be perfect!

I get to do whatever I want,
however I want, whenever I want it!

My dad... I'd love him
if I didn't hate him.

He spent a fortune
hiring every expert on the planet

to grow back that equipment
you blew off between my legs,

just so the old fart can hold out
some kind of hope of having a grandkid.

Although, as you can see,
there were some side effects.

I'm not complaining. Since you've been
gone, I'm having the time of my life.

And now you've led me back
to your darling Cordelia.

We wondered who wrote those letters.
She left not a clue.

Clever girl.
And so pretty, so pretty.

A little old for my taste,
but I can forgive that just this once.

Nancy, don't scream.

Whatever he does to you,
don't scream.

She'll scream. I'm gonna take
all night doing dear old Nancy.

And you're gonna die knowing
that it's all your fault.

They've all screamed, Hartigan.

Dozens of them, maybe a hundred.

Eight years' worth.
Every one of them has screamed.

If there weren't
so many people hereabout,

I would show you how
I'm gonna make dear old Nancy scream.

It's gonna be one hell of a show!

This is it. No way to fight it now.

No hope left.

No chance.

This is it. This is the end.

No.

Give it a shot, old man.
Keep your neck tight. Move.

The window, maybe there's an alarm.
The window.

Keep your neck tight, goddamn it!
Stay conscious!

Stay conscious.

No alarm.

The glass! Cut the rope.

You can do it. You can do it.

It is inclement upon me

to comment with marked displeasure
on your rash impulsiveness

in selecting such an eye-catching
and impractical car

to heist, Mr Shlubb.

Protest though you might, Mr Klump,

you must none-the-less admit
to the sheer phallic majesty

of said Ferrari's performance.

An engine of cyclopean power throbs

beneath this steel stallion's hood.

Irrelevant to said mission
is the following query,

which I now put forth to you:

Wherein this most streamlined

and trunkless of transports,

boner-inspiring though it may be,

wherein are we to reposit
our recently deceased cargo?

A worthy concern.

Neatly elucidated.

I can only express puzzlement
that borders on alarm.

Tell me where Roark takes the girls
or I'll cut your damn head off!

In plain English, creep!

The answer you seek
is rural, even agrarian.

The farm!

That's all I need to hear.
Every cop on the force

knows about the Roark family's farm
and to stay away from it.

Shlubb and Klump
were packing an arsenal.

Once things get loud,
I'll have use for the cannons.

But at first,
I'll have to play it quiet.

Quiet and nasty.

Nancy's car, six miles from the farm.

"Nobody but me can keep
this heap running," she told me.

Good girl. The car stalled out
on that yellow bastard

and you didn't tell him
how to start it up again.

You kept your mouth shut.
I'll bet Junior was furious.

I'll bet he slapped you around
something fierce.

But you stayed strong.
You bought a few extra minutes.

There's still a chance, Nancy.

Don't scream.

I ditch the car a mile or so
from the farm

and make my way through the woods.

I'm not halfway there when it hits.

My heart. Can't be my heart.

I was cured.

Bad cough. Blood in it.

Doesn't matter now.

I don't have to stay alive
that much longer, anyway.

Rotten way to kill a man,
but it's quiet.

Hate yourself later.

You're only making this worse
for yourself, you stupid cow!

Do you think I'm tired? Is that it?
Do you think I'm getting tired?

You're the one who's gonna crack!

You'll crack!

You'll cry and beg!

You'll scream!

Oh, yeah, you'll scream,
you big, fat, ugly cow!

You'll scream!

You're thinking the whip
was the worst I could do?

That was foreplay.

Hartigan was right about you.

You can't get it up unless I scream.

You're pathetic!

You're pathetic.

It's not wise at all
to make fun of me like that.

It brings out the worst in me.

Stupid old man!

In too much of a hurry.

Damn! It can't be!

Charging in like Galahad,
just like I told myself I wouldn't!

Stupid old man!

- You tagged him good!
- No chances. Perforate the fool.

Good advice.

Give it up, Junior.

- It's over. Let her go.
- You're dreaming, Hartigan!

I get to see your eyes while I fillet

the woman of your dreams
right in front of you!

Look at you!
You're about to keel over!

You can't even lift that cannon!

Sure, I can.

You gave me a scare there
for a second, old man.

Nancy, I'm sorry.

I'm taking no chances with you.

First I soften you up,
and then it's show-time.

Here it comes.

- It's gonna hurt.
- You're right about that.

Sucker.

I take away his weapon.

Both of them.

Eight long years, son of a bitch!

After a while, all I'm doing is pounding
wet chunks of bone into the floorboards,

so I stop.

So long, Junior.

Been a pleasure.

I didn't scream, Hartigan, not once.

- I didn't scream.
- I know it, baby.

You grew up strong.

By the time I get her to the car,
Nancy stops shaking.

Her skin is warm again.
She's herself again.

Thanks for remembering my coat.

And for all the little things.

Like saving my life, twice.

- You better get rolling.
- You're not coming along?

No. I have friends on their way,
to collect evidence.

I'm gonna blow
this whole sick mess wide open.

I'm gonna clear my name.

I'm gonna put Senator Roark
behind bars where he belongs.

I can't lose you, not again.

You'll never lose me, Nancy.

Nancy Callahan, the love of my life.

Shame to lie to her.
I hope she forgives me for it.

Get Senator Roark behind bars? Sure.

Maybe after I've pulled off that
miracle, I'll go and punch out God.

There isn't a prosecutor in the state
who'll go after Senator Roark.

I killed his only son.

The bloodline is cut.

Roark's lost his goddamn legacy.

He'll use all his power
to get revenge on me.

He'll go after me through Nancy.
He'll find her again.

There'll be no end to it.

She'll never be safe.

Not as long as I'm alive.

There's only one way to beat him.

An old man dies,

a young woman lives.

Fair trade.

I love you, Nancy.

She shivers in the wind
like the last leaf on a dying tree.

I let her hear my footsteps.

She only goes stiff for a moment.

Care for a smoke?

Sure. I'll take one.

Are you as bored by that crowd as I am?

I didn't come here for the party.
I came here for you.

I've watched you for days.

You're everything a man could ever want.

It's not just your face,

your figure or your voice.

It's your eyes.

All the things I see in your eyes.

What is it you see in my eyes?

I see a crazy calm.

You're sick of running.

You're ready to face
what you have to face.

But you don't want to face it alone.

No.

I don't want to face it alone.

The wind rises electric.

She's soft and warm
and almost weightless.

Her perfume a sweet promise
that brings tears to my eyes.

I tell her that
everything will be all right.

That I'll save her from whatever she's
scared of and take her far, far away.

I tell her I love her.

The silencer
makes a whisper of the gunshot.

I hold her close until she's gone.

I'll never know
what she was running from.

I'll cash her cheque in the morning.

Yes.

Oh, Mom, don't go on like that.

It's not the city. I could've gotten
in a traffic accident anywhere.

Yeah, just a fracture.
The doctor said it's a clean break.

It should be right as rain in no time.

Turn the right corner in Sin City

and you can find... anything.

Becky.

Care for a smoke?

Love you too, Mom.

Anything.

The night is hot as hell.

It's a lousy room
in a lousy part of a lousy town.

I'm staring at a goddess.

She's telling me she wants me.

I'm not gonna waste one more second
wondering how I've gotten so lucky.

I want you.

She smells like angels ought to smell.

The perfect woman.

The goddess.

I need you.

Goldie.

She says her name is Goldie.

Three hours later and my head
is feeling several sizes too big.

And that cold thing
happens to my stomach.

And I realise Goldie's dead.
Not a mark on her.

You'd have to check her pulse
or notice those perfect breasts of hers

aren't moving like
if she was breathing.

She was murdered
and I was right here when it happened.

Lying next to her,
stone drunk, just like she was.

Damn it, Goldie. Who were you
and who wanted you dead?

Who were you
besides an angel of mercy,

giving a two-time loser like me
the night of his life?

It sure as hell wasn't my looks.

So why the sleazy saloon?

Why the kindness, Goldie?

The cops, they're telling me too much,
showing up before anybody

but me and the killer could
know there's been a murder.

Somebody paid good money
for this frame.

No reason at all to play it quiet.

No reason to play it any way but my way.

Whoever killed you
is gonna pay, Goldie.

Open up, police!

I'll be right out.

I don't know why you died, Goldie.

I don't know why and I don't know how
I never even met you before tonight,

but you were a friend and more
when I needed one.

And when I find out who did it,

it won't be quick and quiet
like it was with you.

It'll be loud and nasty,
my kind of Kill.

And when his eyes go dead,
the hell I send him to

will seem like heaven
after what I've done to him.

I love you, Goldie.

Claire?

Now, don't worry, Lucille.
I was just grazed.

- You got any beers around this place?
- No way I'm giving you any alcohol.

Besides, it's not what
you came here for anyway, is it?

No.

Go ahead.
You're worse without 'em.

Thanks. You're the best.

Lucille's my parole officer.

She's a dyke, but God knows why.

With that body of hers
she could have any man she wants.

The pills come from a girlfriend
who's a shrink.

She tried to analyse me once
but she got too scared.

Haven't seen you like this in a while.

- Got in a fight with some cops.
- Didn't happen to kill any of them?

Not that I know. But they know they've
been in a fight, that's for damn sure.

How do you suppose
I'm gonna square this with the board?

There ain't no squaring it. Not this
time. This isn't some barroom brawl.

Or some creep with a gas can
trying to torch someone.

Hey, hey. This is big.

- Settle down, Marv. Take another pill.
- There ain't no settlin' down!

This is blood for blood,
and by the gallons.

This is the old days and the bad days,
the all-or-nothing days.

They're back.
There's no choices left.

And I'm ready for war.

Prison was hell for you.
It's gonna be life this time.

Hell's waking up every goddamn day
and not even knowing why you're here.

But I'm out now.

It took somebody who was kind to me
getting killed to do it.

But I'm out.
I know exactly what I gotta do.

Now, for Gladys. Sweet Gladys.

But I'll have to sneak past Mom,

and her ears have gotten a whole
lot better since she went blind.

Mom still hasn't changed
a thing in this room.

Every week she dusts it all off
so it looks like it was only yesterday

that I moved out.

Every time I come visit,
she has me sleep in here,

and the old smells make me cry
like they do right now.

I knew Gladys would be safe here.

I call her Gladys after
one of the sisters from school.

She's almost lived up the name.

For a while we just get
the feel of each other back.

Good as ever.

I tell her about Goldie
and what we have to do.

Marvin?

Is that you, baby?

Yes, Mom. I'm sorry I woke you up.

I couldn't sleep for the worry.
There were men here looking for you.

They weren't police.

It was about my job.
I got a new job.

- It's night work.
- What did you do to your face?

L... cut myself shaving.

You're getting confused again,
aren't you?

Mom, I feel better
than I have in years.

So you were scared,
weren't you, Goldie?

Somebody wanted you dead,
and you knew it.

So you hit the saloons, the bad places,

looking for the biggest,
meanest lug around and finding me.

I'm gonna find
that son of a bitch that killed you,

and I'm gonna give him the hard goodbye.

Walk down
the right back alley in Sin City...

- Leave your hands off Nancy.
- And you could find anything.

That coat looks like Baghdad.

So does your face. Take off!

He's new here, Marv.
He didn't know.

Kadie's is my kind of joint.

Nancy's just getting started with her
gig, but the crowd's breathing hard.

Plenty of nights
I've drooled over Nancy,

shoulder to shoulder
with all the other losers like me.

But that's not
what I'm lookin' for tonight.

I'm looking
for something small and hairy.

Take it easy, Weevil.
I'm here to do you a favour.

It's money in your pocket.

Spread the word. Tell him I've been
hitting the joints drunk off my butt,

shooting my mouth off,
crying over some hot babe named Goldie.

What'll it be, Marv?

A shot and a brew, Shellie,
and keep 'em comin'.

Sure, honey.
You take it slow, now.

Most people think Marv is crazy.

He just had the rotten luck
of being born in the wrong century.

He'd be right at home
on some ancient battlefield,

swinging an axe into somebody's face.

Or in a Roman arena taking
a sword to other gladiators like him.

They'd have tossed him girls
like Nancy back then.

Show's over, dickwad. Drink up.

That's one fine-looking coat
you're wearing there.

Your killin' days are over, you
over-the-hill, do-gooder son of a bitch.

I love hit men. No matter what
you do to them, you don't feel bad.

- Take it off.
- What?

A fine coat,
you're bleeding all over it.

All right, it's all yours.
Oh, God!

It wasn't you losers who killed Goldie.

The guy who did that,
he knew what he was doing.

So tell me, man. Who sent you?

I don't hear you giving me any names.

So I guess when I shot you in the belly
I aimed a little too high.

You keep holding out on me like this,
and I'm gonna have to get really nasty.

It was Telly...
Telly Stern passed me the order.

He runs the tables over
to the Triple Ace Club.

Thanks again.

Then the damnedest thing happens.

For a second, I smell the angel smell
that belonged to my Goldie.

Just need my medicine, is all.

Bastard.

You're gonna pay
for what you did to me.

Feel like talking, Louie?

How many got paid off
for the frame, Louie?

How many for the kill?

It was Connelly.
He set me up.

He'll never talk.

I don't know about you,
but I'm havin' a ball.

Connelly talks. They all talk.

And what have been
your sins, my son?

Well, Padre,
I don't want to keep you up all night,

so I'll just fill you in
on the latest batch.

These here hands of mine,
they got blood all over 'em.

You're speaking figuratively.

When I need to find something out,
I just go out and look for somebody

that knows more than me,
and I go and I ask them.

Sometimes, I ask pretty hard.

By way of a "for instance",
I killed three men tonight.

Tortured 'em first.

You might say I been
working my way up the food chain.

First two were minnows,
small-time messengers.

But it was Connelly, the money man,
who fingered you, Padre.

Dear Lord, man,
this is a house of God.

Just give me a damn name.

- Roark.
- You really are pushing your luck,

feeding me garbage like that.

It can't be that big.

There's a farm
at North Cross and Lennox.

It's all there.
Find out for yourself.

And while you're at it,

ask yourself if that corpse of a slut
is worth dying for.

Worth dying for.

Worth killing for.

Worth going to hell for.

Amen.

His keys say the padre drove a Mercedes,

or at least that's what they're
passing off as a Mercedes these days.

Modern cars:
they all look like electric shavers.

Goldie.

Goldie!

It couldn't be Goldie.

It's my own fault, and nobody else's,
that I got confused.

I've been having so much fun
I forgot to take my medicine.

That wasn't Goldie back there.

Goldie's dead,

and that's the whole reason that
I've been doing what I've been doing.

When you got a condition,
it's bad to forget your medicine.

The cold thing,

it creeps into my gut and tells me
one more time it won't let go.

This is a bad place, this farm.

People have died here...

the wrong way.

I don't want to fight, pooch.

I got no gripe with you.

Easy, boy.

No way I was gonna use
my gun on you, buddy.

It's whoever owns you
I'm curious about,

because there's blood on your breath,
and I think I know what kind.

So I sniff around to see what's buried.

Here we go.

It's impossible.
Nobody can sneak up on me.

I go blind.
Not a sound. Nobody's that quiet.

Except the one who snuck
into that hotel room two nights ago.

It was you, you bastard.
You killed her.

You killed Goldie.

It was...

I blew it, Goldie.

I found your killer,
but he was better than me.

Too quiet, too quick.

A killer born.

Why didn't he finish the job?

He keeps the heads.
He eats the rest.

- Lucille?
- It's not just that wolf of his.

The wolf just gets scraps.

Bones.

It's him.

He... eats... people.

- He cooks them like they were steaks.
- Let's get you warm.

Just like they were steaks.

Now he's got both of us.

It's all right.
Take a nice, slow breath.

Just look at the heads on the wall.

The heads on the wall.

The heads on the wall.

Son of a bitch!
He kept smiling that damned smile.

He made me watch him
suck the meat off my fingers.

- He made me watch!
- Oh, Jesus.

He made me watch!

Christ, I could use a cigarette.

Dames. Sometimes all they
gotta do is let it out.

And a few buckets later,
there's no way you'd know.

You've brought us
some big trouble this time, Marv.

Whoever's behind this whole thing has
his connections right in the department.

Any leads?

One guy I talked to told me
it was Roark running the show.

Whoever it is, he knew I was checking
out that hooker almost before I did.

- What hooker?
- The one you've been obsessing over.

The dead one.

Goldie.

I didn't know she was a hooker.

Doesn't make any difference
about anything.

- But I didn't know that.
- She was high-class stuff.

Must have shown you quite a time.

Quiet. There's a car coming.

Kevin!

All I've got is a face... and a name.

I'll see you later, Kevin.

Let's go.

They're done checking the house.

They're coming this way.

Bastards. I'll show them.

You're not gonna get
either of us killed, Marv.

No, don't shoot! Please.

Listen to me.
I'm his parole officer.

He's unconscious and unarmed,

so there's no need to kill him.

Captain, the target,
there's no sign of him.

Here's a sign!

That there is one
damn fine coat you're wearing.

I keep coming back to that cop
I just killed and what he told me.

I was pretty steamed about
what he'd done to Lucille,

so I took my time
with that son of a bitch.

It wasn't till I showed him all those
pieces of himself that he said it.

Just a name:
Patrick Henry Roark, man of the cloth.

Could've become president,
but he chose to serve God.

Along the way, he happened to become
the most powerful man in the state.

He's brought down mayors and governors
like they were nothing.

He even made his rotten brother
a US senator without breaking a sweat.

And here he's gonna get killed
in the name of a dead hooker.

I'm getting used to the idea. More
and more, I'm liking the sound of it.

Then it hits me like a kick in the nuts.

What if I'm wrong?

I've got a condition.

I get confused sometimes.

And with Lucille dead,
I can't get my medicine.

What if I've imagined all of this?

What if I've turned into what they've
always said I was gonna turn into?

A maniac.

A psycho Killer.

Can't kill a man
without knowing for sure you ought to.

I've gotta know for sure.

The merchandise is on display
by the time I make my way to Old Town.

For an hour or so,
I ask around about Goldie.

I don't get any answers,
but I know I'm bound to.

Lucille said Goldie was a hooker,

and if she was, she has roots here:

Friends, maybe even family.

You can't be Goldie.
Goldie's dead.

Goldie. Yeah, sure, right.

I haven't eaten anything
or taken my medicine for days now.

No wonder I'm seeing things.

Bastard!

He's crazy.

Hit him again, Wendy. Harder.

Wait a minute.
Why did she call you Wendy?

Because that's my name, you ape.

Goldie was my sister.
My twin sister.

I guess she was the nice one.

Goldie and the other six,
where are they?

What did you do to them?

You crazy goddamn broad.

Just take a look at this mug.

Would any of you dames let me get
close enough to you to kill you?

None of you would, but Goldie.

And she only did because
she thought I could protect her.

And I'll bet those cops didn't do a damn
thing about those other girls, did they?

But as soon as they had me for a fall
guy, they showed up, guns blazing.

But they didn't get me, and I've been
killing my way to the truth ever since.

So, go ahead, doll.

Shoot me now,
or get the hell out of my way.

Nuts.

OK, I'm glad we got
all that sorted out.

- What the hell?
- I tied those knots!

- That's my specialty!
- You sat there and took it,

when you could've taken my gun away
any time you wanted to.

Well, sure. I thought I might be able
to talk some sense into you.

And I probably would have had
to paste you one,

and I don't hurt girls.

I need a pair of handcuffs.

What style do you want?
I got a collection.

Just give him the ones
you got with you, Gail.

It was a farm boy named Kevin
who killed Goldie,

but it was Cardinal Roark
who was behind it, and I don't know why.

I know that sounds crazy.

No, it doesn't.
Goldie worked the clergy.

Just like that, a whopper of
a puzzle piece falls smack in my lap.

I'm too dumb to put
the whole picture together yet,

but she fires up two cigarettes
and hands me one,

and I taste her lipstick on it.

And suddenly, my heart's pounding
so loud I can't hear anything else.

I want to reach over and touch her
and taste Goldie's sweat one more time.

But she isn't Goldie.

Yeah, yeah. This'll do.

I'm gonna be needing a dozen two-foot
lengths of this rubber tubing...

and a spool of razor wire...

and a pair of those special gloves
that'll let me handle the wire.

Beefing up
the old home security, huh?

You bet your ass.

She was my sister,
so I'm in this one to the end.

Why are you willing to go up against
Roark for someone you barely knew?

She was nice to me, gave me
something I didn't even know existed.

I wasn't never even able to buy a woman.

You know, the way I look.

I take my mind off her
and I crawl back inside myself.

It's almost killing time,
and I'd better get sharp.

I check the list:
rubber tubing, gas, saw,

gloves, cuffs, razor wire, hatchet,

Gladys and my mitts.

- We're close enough. Pull over.
- Yes, Marv.

Keep the engine runnin'.

If I'm not back in 20 minutes, you get
the hell outta here and don't look back.

Kill him for me, Marv.

Kill him good.

I won't let you down, Goldie.

Heading downstairs to the kitchen.

Getting himself a midnight snack,
and I can guess what kind.

Come on, you son of a bitch.

Damn, he's slick.

Is that the best you can do, creep?

That's right.
Get personal, get close. I can take it.

I got you, you little bastard.
Let's see you hop around now.

I try to slow my heart down
and breathe the fire out of my lungs.

My muscles make me
a thousand promises of pain to come.

Let me do it, Marv.
She was my sister. Let me finish him.

You wasn't supposed
to come down here, Wendy.

Oh, but I want to...

I'm sorry, kid, but I haven't
even started with this creep,

and I don't want you watching the rest.
It'll give you nightmares.

God, I gotta tell you,
I'm good and bushed.

And it's not that fight of ours
that did me in, either.

It's all that sawing and tying.

It's not as easy as it looks.

Could have been a real mess around here

if I didn't have that tubing
for tourniquets.

I gotta admit,
there was a spurt or two,

to get the scent in the air, to get
that friend of yours to come running.

Well, what do you know?

Look who's here.

Here he comes.

That's a good dog.

He doesn't scream,
not even when the mutt's had its fill

and Kevin's guts
are lying all over the place.

Somehow the bastard is still alive,
still staring at me.

Not even when I grab the saw
and finish the job.

He never screams.

I put in a call to Kadie's
and ask Nancy to get her clothes on

and meet me at her place.
She says, "Yes," like always.

Hey, Nancy, you got any beers?

Sure, Marv. Who's the babe?

There isn't much of anything
Nancy wouldn't do for me.

Not since a year back
when a frat boy roughed her up

and I straightened him out but good.

It really gets my goat
when guys rough up dames.

What do you want me to do with her?

Well, your best bet is
drive her all the way up to Sacred Oaks.

What about you?
Are you leaving town?

Hell, no. I like it here.

I hot-wire a parked cab
and stay under the speed limit

So as not to get any attention.

My head starts to clear.
Things start to make sense.

I owe you, Goldie.

I owe you one and I'm gonna pay up.

So, if going after Roark
means dying, win or lose,

hell, I'll die laughing if I know
I've done this one thing right.

Quiet as a grave out here.
No sign of target.

All right, keep a lookout.

- Kevin?
- What's left of him, anyways.

The dog ate the rest.

Oh, my God. You monster.

You demon.

Don't scream or I'll plug you.

He had the voice of an angel,

yet he spoke only to me.

And he's dead now
because of one stupid whore.

It's not a real good idea
for you to talk about Goldie

that way while I'm around.

When he came to me...

he was a tormented boy.

Tormented by guilt.

I tried to counsel him.

But the eating,
it filled him with white light.

Tearful, he swore to me
that he felt the touch of God Almighty.

What the hell do you know?

I know it's pretty
damn weird to eat people.

He didn't just eat their bodies,

he ate their souls.

And I joined in.

They were all whores.

Nobody cared for them.
Nobody missed them.

And then your... Goldie
almost ruined everything.

She stayed in public places.

And then with you.

You were so convenient.

You'd broke a man's jaw that very night.

Who would believe a thug like you?

Kevin killed her.

I ordered the police in for you,
but you wouldn't be caught.

You wouldn't stop.

And now he's dead and you're here to...

eliminate me.

Will that give you satisfaction, my son?

Killing a helpless old fart?

The killing, no.

No satisfaction.

Everything up until
the killing will be a gas.

Kevin...

we're going home.

You can scream now if you want to.

It's beautiful, Goldie.
It's just like I promised, only better.

And when his eyes go dead,
the hell I sent him to

must seem like heaven
after what I've done to him.

- Freeze!
- Oh, my God!

Jerks.

They should've shot me in the head,
and enough times to make sure.

It's so stupid.

Everybody knows what's coming,
but they go through the motions anyway.

What a waste of time.

Months fall off the calendar
while I breathe and eat through tubes.

Night after night, I wait for somebody
to come and finish me off.

After a while, I realise
it's not gonna be so easy as that.

I'm on my feet for ten minutes

before the cops kick them out
from under me.

They don't ask me any questions.

They just keep knocking the crap out of
me and waving a confession in my face.

And I keep spitting blood all over it

and laughing at how many fresh copies
they come up with.

Then along comes this worm
assistant district attorney

who turns the recorder off and says
if I don't sign their confession,

they'll kill my mom.

I break his arm in three places
and I sign it.

From then on, it's the circus
everybody wants it to be.

They nail me for the works,
not just the people I did kill,

but even Lucille and the girls
that Roark and Kevin ate,

and even Goldie.

The judge is all fire and brimstone
when she hands down the sentence.

Midnight and my death
are only a few hours away,

when I get my first surprise
in 18 months.

My only visitor.

I'm ready for anything but that scent.

I got 'em for you good,
didn't I, Goldie?

Oh, I'm sorry, Wendy.

L... I got confused again.

Just seeing you like this.

You can call me Goldie.

She smells like angels ought to smell.

The perfect woman.

The goddess.

Goldie.

She says her name is Goldie.

They fix me a pretty decent steak
for my last meal.

They even throw in a brew. It's the
first I've had since back at Nancy's.

Then they shave my head and fix me
with a rubber diaper and get to it.

And it's about damned time,
if you ask me.

"Though I walk through
the valley of the shadow..."

Would you get a move on?
I haven't got all night.

You heard the man. Hit it.

Is that the best you can do,
you pansies?

He's gone.

Forget it, man. You can bang
on that door all night if you want to.

There is no way in hell
I'm letting you in.

I can't believe
you're doing this to me, Shellie.

Everything we've shared...
It has to mean something to you.

It meant plenty. Plenty of lost pay
on account of how nobody wants

to flirt with a waitress whose face
is all swollen up with bruises.

I know you're angry, baby. I forgive you
for that without you asking me to.

There's a difference between getting
honked off at a guy who's not so bad,

and finding out that you've been
sweet-talked by a total jerk loser

who skips out on a wife
he doesn't even tell you about

every time he gets drunk,
which is way too often!

Especially the kind of total jerk loser

who has to beat up on a girl
to make himself feel like a man.

That hurt, Shellie.

It's one thing for you
to play hard to get,

but don't go trying to cut my nuts off.

I am impossible to get.

Do yourself a favour, Jackie Boy,
and get help,

like... a shrink.

Get help and get lost.

Just open the door.

Go ahead and open the door, Shellie.
I'll take care of this.

Just open the door and you'll see
how wrong you've been about me.

Oblige him, Shellie.
I'm ready for him.

No! If he knew
that you were here with me,

- you don't know how bad this could get!
- This clown's got a big, mean drunk on.

He's got four friends
out there in the hall,

breathing hard
and just as drunk as he is.

Hey, I could swear I heard somebody
in there with you just now.

Somebody! Jackie Boy, it's
a regular African love fest in here!

- I'm no racist.
- I mean, I got me all five starters,

half the bench of the Basin City Blues
keeping me company.

You feel like taking them on?

You are teasing me, baby.

Some of my best friends...

But you're really pushing my buttons.

And the whole time
you've been doing me like this,

I've been too polite to point out
that any time I want to,

I could kick this
damn door to splinters.

OK, baby, you know what I can do.

- You know what I can do. One, two...
- All right, then!

All right. All right, all right!

Troops, make yourself at home.

You brought your whole pack with you?

None of these bozos got lives,
they gotta hang out with you?

You're gonna love this, baby.

Call up some of your friends
who work the saloon.

With you and the bunch of us,
we're gonna hit every joint in town,

- and it's gonna be great.
- I ain't calling up nobody.

That's a man's shirt, and I'm
sure as hell it ain't one of mine.

You got somebody's
love stink all over you.

You've been with another man
and you've been with him tonight.

- Who is he?
- He's Superman.

He flew out the window just
as soon as he heard you were coming,

‘cause you scared him so bad.

You think I have no feelings at all.

If you're gonna slug me,

just go ahead and get it over with,
you sick bastard.

There you go, lying about me again,

right in front of my friends.

I have never hit a woman in my life.

That's showing her, man.

You goddamn bastard.
You goddamn coward.

- Baby, we're here to have a good time.
- Yeah.

I gotta take a leak.

Wish you'd dropped by earlier,
Jackie Boy.

Then you could've met my boyfriend.

Could've seen
what a real man looks like.

There you go, after my nuts again.

But I forgive you.

I'm a generous guy.

He is generous.
But that temper of his...

You never should have
picked on him like you did.

My temper you don't
have to worry about.

Shut up and keep your hands to yourself
or I'll cut your little pecker off.

I've been told.

You don't wanna be hitting the streets
dressed like that.

It's a jungle out there. You got
a couple phone calls you ought to make.

Hey, baby,
I don't hear you making those calls.

Answer me!

Oh, I don't need this grief.

Hi. I'm Shellie's new boyfriend
and I'm out of my mind.

You ever so much as talk to Shellie
again, you even think her name,

and I'll cut you in ways
that'll make you useless to a woman.

You're making a big mistake, man.
A big mistake.

Yeah? You already made
a big mistake yourself.

You didn't flush.

Troops, get outta here.

No questions, damn it.
No questions. Now!

Dwight, what in the devil did you do?

I just gave him a taste
of his own medicine.

I don't think he'll
be bothering you again.

- How's your jaw?
- I've been slapped around worse.

Dwight, he was from a while back,

before you showed up again
with that new face of yours.

And it was only
‘cause I felt sorry for him.

And it was only once.

I've done some dumb things.

Seeing how
I'm one of those dumb things,

I can't give you
too hard a time about that.

But this guy, he's a menace.

He might kill somebody
if I don't stop him.

- I'll call you later.
- No, don't go!

Shellie shouts something
I can't quite make out

over the racket
of a passing police ‘copter.

- Stop!
- It sounds like "stop",

but I can't be sure.
It's a chance I shouldn't be taking,

but I can't go home
and forget about it,

and let Jackie Boy and his pals
find their fun.

They're a pack of predators and they're
out for blood tonight: a woman's blood.

Damn it, Dwight. Damn it.

You fool.

You damned fool.

I cut my Caddy across the park

to pick up Jackie Boy heading
like a bat outta hell up the hill.

I'm speeding. That's a good way
to get yourself noticed.

If you're a murderer with a new face
who's one fingerprint check away

from the fast track
to the gas chamber like I am,

the last thing you want
is to get noticed.

I don't have nearly enough cash on me
to bribe this cop, and even if I did,

there's the outside chance
he's one of the honest ones.

Do I try to talk my way out of this, or
do I take this cop down and risk it all?

Then Jackie Boy saves me
a great, big, steaming pile of trouble.

Watch it, Jack!

Cops! They're right on our ass!

Not for long.
Not where we're headed.

My gut tightens up.

Jackie Boy's leading us
straight to Old Town.

The cop shuts off his siren.

He knows he's not the law,
not in Old Town.

The ladies are the law here,
beautiful and merciless.

If you've got cash
and play by the rules,

they'll make all your dreams come true.
But if you cross 'em,

you're a corpse.

- Squad car's long gone.
- I called it. Was I right?

You're always right, Jack. None of us
ever doubted you for a second.

But I heard things about these girls.

Things they'd done to guys
who got out of line.

Who's out of line?

Hey, baby. Hey, baby.

Hop in, sugar.
We'll get you there.

Sweetheart, I work the day shift
and it's been a long day.

Besides, I don't do group jobs.

Get in the car, baby.
We'll just talk. It'll be nice.

I don't do talk jobs, either.

Baby doll,
I've had me one hell of a bad day.

I've been beat up
every time I turn around.

But the day I get
turned down by a hooker

when I got good,
hard-earned cash to pay her with,

well,

there's only so much a man can take.

Go try the Alamo over on Dillon Street.

That's the Alamo, not the Amigo.

The Amigo's a fag joint.

Are you having a good time
humiliating me like this

for no damn reason at all?

That's far enough, Dwight.
We've been on top of these peckerwoods

since they showed up
with that cop behind them.

Everything's under control.

Enjoy the show.

There's no use arguing with her.

The ladies are their own enforcers.

How's the barmaid?
You know, the one that never shuts up?

Not right now, Gail.

Wound up a little tight, aren't we?

That's your whole problem, Dwight.
You worry too much.

That, and your lousy taste in women.
These days, anyway.

Damn it, Gail. Not right now.

Those clowns down the way,
they some of the barmaid's boyfriends?

One of them thinks he is.

He's outta control.

I followed them here to make sure
he didn't hurt any of the girls.

Us helpless little girls.

All kinds of death is about to hit
less than 20 yards ahead of us,

and still it's hard
to take my eyes off her.

Us girls are safe
as we can be, Lancelot.

Those boys in that Chrysler
are one mistake away

from seeing what Miho can do.

And she's been aching
for some practice.

She guides my glance upwards
to the pixie perched on the roof's edge.

- Deadly little Miho.
- You're running out of alley, cowboy.

Turn around. Save yourself
and your buddies a ton of grief.

You're a sassy little thing.

You ain't hardly in any kind
of position to be making threats.

The trap is set,
locked and ready to spring.

So what? They're scum.
They deserve what's coming.

So why this rotten feeling in my gut
that something is awfully wrong?

They haven't killed anybody
I know about.

It got pretty bad at Shellie's place,
but they didn't kill anybody.

And they won't.

Why this rotten feeling?

Something Shellie said.
I can't place it.

OK, OK, OK. I sounded off
a little more than I should have.

- I'm a little on edge.
- Over the edge.

It's not a woman you need.
It's a good night's sleep.

You couldn't handle a woman,
the state you're in.

She's saying you ain't got
what it takes, Jack.

You wanna see it?

You wanna see what I got?

I've seen all shapes, all sizes.

You seen this one?

Get in the car.

Oh, sugar, you just gone and done
the dumbest thing in your whole life.

Oh, God, no!

This is crazy!

Out of nowhere, for no reason at all!

Go ahead.

Go ahead. Go ahead.

- He's got the drop on her.
- He's got squat.

He's dead.
He's just too damn dumb to know it.

I got you right where I want you.

This is a career-ending wound, whore.

- And there's gonna be hell to pay.
- Watch your step, Jackie Boy.

This isn't funny.

Don't anyone laugh.
I got friends you can't imagine.

Every one of you is gonna burn.

Hang it up.
She's just playing with you.

- You're only making it worse.
- You shut the hell up.

Don't pull the trigger.
She blocked the barrel. It'll backfire.

I told you to shut up.

I can't see.

What's happening?

I can't see.

I can't hear anything.

For God's sake, Miho, finish him.

Yeah. Make it quick, will you?

She doesn't quite chop his head off.

She makes a Pez dispenser out of him.

Then it's straight to business:

Stretching corpses out on the floor
and going through their pockets,

divvying up cash when they find it. I'm
fishing around in Jackie Boy's pants.

His wallet is packed.

Mastercard, Discover,
Platinum American Express,

and nearly 300 bucks worth of twenties

that I'm not too proud
to stuff into my own pockets.

Then I find an atom bomb.

Jackie Boy,

you son of a bitch.

There was a helicopter
that kicked up such a racket,

I couldn't quite
make out what she said.

I thought Shellie said "stop".

She said "cop".

Detective Lieutenant Jack Rafferty.

Iron Jack, the papers call him.

A goddamn hero cop.

It's held for years, the shaky truce.
The cops get a slice of the profits

and free entertainment
when they throw a party.

The girls administer
their own brand of justice.

They get to defend their own turf.
If a cop blunders into the neighbourhood

and he's not shopping for what the girls
are selling, they send him packing,

but they send him back alive.

That's the rules.

That's the truce.

The cops stay out.

That keeps the girls free
to keep the pimps and the mob out.

Old Town will be left wide open.

It'll be war.

The streets will run red with blood.

Women's blood.

The cops! The mob! Things are gonna
go back to the way they used to be!

The hell they will! We got guns.

We'll fight the cops and the mob

and anybody else
who tries to move in on us.

- We'll go to war.
- Don't be stupid.

You wouldn't stand a chance.
Get me a car.

Make sure it's a hardtop
with a decent engine.

I'll hide the bodies.

Did you forget that cop car
that trailed them here?

The cops know Rafferty came here.

They'll check the river,
they'll check the sewer.

They'll find him
and come gunning for us.

I'll haul the bodies to the pits.
The cops won't check.

Get that out of my face
or I'll smack ya.

Who do you think you are,
giving orders?

- You got what you wanted out of us.
- Shut up, Gail.

You got what you wanted out of me!

And you were gone,
off playing with that barmaid.

Gone until you brought
this unholy mess on us.

Miho moves to my back.

One word from Gail
and she'll cut me in half.

They'll be watching the roads.
They'll catch you.

It'll be the bad old days
all over again.

The pimps, the beatings,
the drugs, the rapes!

They won't be watching the roads. Not
yet, they won't! Get me a damn hardtop!

If I don't make it,
you can have your war.

Get that gun out of my face now!

Bastard!

I forgot how quick you are.

My warrior woman.

She almost yanks my head clean off,

shoving my mouth into hers
so hard it hurts.

An explosion that blasts away
the dull, grey years

between the now and that one fiery night
when she was mine.

A hardtop with a decent engine.

And make sure it's got a big trunk.

I'll always love you, baby.

Always... and never.

Where'd you find that heap?

Just look at that trunk.
We'll never fit 'em all in.

Gail? Unless there's something else
you want me to do,

you think maybe I could go home?

All this blood and stuff's got me
feeling like maybe I'm gonna hurl.

Sure, Becky, go home.

But don't you talk to anybody,
not even your mom.

They'll never fit in that trunk.

Not like this, they won't. Miho.

Dry your hair as soon as you get home!

You'll catch cold if you don't.

Hey, Becky. Gail said no calls.

I just want to hear my mom's voice.
I won't tell her nothing.

Please, don't say nothing to Gail.

Hey, Mom?

Dizzy dames. What were they thinking,

sticking me with a beat-up bucket
of bolts like this?

We were barely able to get
the trunk closed as it was,

we packed it so tight.

There wasn't anything we could do
but pile Jackie Boy in right next to me,

out where anybody
who cares to look will see him.

Go ahead, take one of his cigarettes.

It'll help.

It's got you smoking there, bud.

You shut the hell up, Jackie Boy.

You're dead.

I'm just imagining this,
so shut the hell up.

Well, it tells you something
about your state of mind, don't it?

It's got you hearing things.
It's got your nerves shot.

It's got you smoking.

You know it's true.

Nobody ever really quits.

A smoker's a smoker
when the chips are down.

- And your chips are down.
- I'm fine. You shut the hell up.

Will you look at that?

Those hookers let you down.

What are you gonna do
when you run outta gas, call AAA?

You sucker for the babes, you.

You ain't even
gonna make it to the pits.

You shut the hell up. I'll make it.

Not unless you keep
your eyes on the road, sugar pie.

Watch it!

This is great.

Just like being in a buddy movie.

Shut up!

Boy, you're screwed,
you're out, you're finished.

Stick a fork in it.

You're swirling around
the bottom of the bowl,

nose-diving down the pipe.

It's over.

You're flushed.

This time, I can't bring myself
to tell him to shut up.

Sure, he's an asshole.

Sure, he's dead.

Sure, I'm just imagining
that he's talking.

None of that stops the bastard
from being absolutely right.

I don't have a chance in hell
of outrunning this cop.

Not in this heap.

Pull over!

The only question left
is whether I'm gonna kill him or not.

Tough call.

For all I know,
he's an honest cop, regular guy,

a working stiff with a mortgage,
a wife and a pile of kids.

My hand moves all on its own,

sliding one of my guns to my lap
and thumbing back the hammer.

- I don't know what to do.
- Better stop. You're making him mad.

Whatever you say.

Your friend here...
party a little too hard tonight?

I'm the designated driver.

Well, you're driving
with a busted tail light.

I'll let you off with a warning.

What next?

The tank goes dry
a quarter mile from the pits.

I shove the T-Bird the rest of the way.

A few minutes' more work
and it'll all be over.

Jackie Boy
will go into the damn tar pits,

I'll catch a train out of Sacred Oaks,
go home and call it a...

No more questions, Dallas.
Do what I say.

Clear the streets.
We're on lockdown.

We're not selling any tail in Old Town.

Not tonight.

Don't struggle.
You'll only hurt yourself.

Your cause is lost.

We know everything.

Soon the corpse of Detective Rafferty
will be in our possession,

and the truce between your prostitutes
and the police will be shattered.

There'll be arrests.
There'll be deaths.

My employer will seize
what remains of this neighbourhood.

You will all be slaves.
Nothing can stop this.

But it is within your power
to save many lives

by facilitating
the process of transition,

by negotiating the terms
of the surrender of Old Town.

Son of a bitch! I know you.

I have suffered your kind before,
the dregs of Sin City.

I serve a new master now,

and soon you and all your wretched kind
will serve him as well.

Now, get dressed and shed a tear
for Dwight McCarthy if you must,

because, by now, he is surely dead.

You don't know him.

My man will find a way.

He always finds a way.

I can't fathom
these Americans always whining

and going on about
how they got it so bad.

This is a fine, grand country.

Guiding light
of the modern world, it is.

Low taxes, land of opportunity.

Where else would one bullet buy us
the fortune that we're getting for this?

Beats the hell
out of blowing up airports and churches

without shite to show for it.

- You find something, Murphy?
- Looks to be a poor, dead cop's badge.

It's all bent up.

What's this stuck in it?

Bloody hell. It's the bullet.

You son of a bitch! Bastard!

They weren't cops, these four.

They were mercenaries.

If they were hired
by who I think they were,

the bad times
haven't even started yet.

And everything seemed
to be going so well.

Remember, we don't have to deliver
every last inch of the man, Brian.

You got a good point there, Ronnie.
Lend me your knife.

Should I take a nap
while I'm doing all this waiting?

I'm at the bone, all right?

There we go.

Have you ever seen anything so pretty
in your whole life?

We'll be back for the three of you,
and if anyone happens by,

use your imagination, OK?

Silence, now.

No air to breathe.

Only the horrid, oily tar taste
creeping up my nostrils.

Let it in. Let it fill your lungs.

They were counting on you
and you blew it.

Skinny, steely fingers at my wrist.

Miho, you're an angel.

You're a saint.

You're Mother Teresa.

You're Elvis.

You're God.

If you'd shown up ten minutes earlier,
we'd still have Jackie Boy's head.

Dwight, they got Gail!

It's a cinch.
You got yourselves a spy in Old Town.

A stoolie who sold you out to the mob.

We gotta find out who it is
and rescue Gail.

First, we gotta get
Jackie Boy's head

before it gets to wherever it's going
and this situation blows wide open.

Miho, I hope to hell you left
one of 'em alive enough to talk.

I let him know I'm not fooling around.

We talk.

Stay smart. Stay cool.

It's time to prove to your friends
that you're worth a damn.

Sometimes, that means dying.

Sometimes, it means killing
a whole lot of people.

There they are.
What do we do?

We stop 'em, Dallas.

Jackie Boy's head is so close to me

I could almost reach out
and grab it right then and there.

Get the head! Get the head!

I got it! I got it!

Suck on this, you stupid slag!

I can't tell if Miho is alive or dead,

but I'm on my feet and every ounce
of me wants to get some killing done.

You want the head now, sweetheart?
So come down and get it!

Brave lad.

I could've put a bullet
straight down your ear just now,

if I hadn't got me revolver
all wet and useless.

You got the drop on me, love.
I'm as helpless as a baby.

I got to come clean
with you, sweetheart.

It was an outright lie I was giving ya
about me revolver being wet.

You see, I'm not
too fond of shootin'.

It's my preference to blow things up.

Once you blast the roof off a pub

and seen all the parts
flying off people,

a little bang bang's
never gonna match the sight of that.

Here's me, with all these fine grenades
and such a sweet beauty of a remote.

But it's me knife
I'll be doing you with.

You killed me mates.

Someone shoulda told ya: never give
an Irishman good cause for revenge.

Deadly little Miho.

You won't feel a thing
unless she wants you to.

She twists the blade.

He feels it.

I tell Miho what we're gonna do
and how we're gonna do it.

I grab poor Dallas's car phone and make
the most important call of my life.

First, we gotta rescue Galil,
then comes the Kill.

The big, fat Kill.

Do we just gotta stand here
and watch this?

What, are you kidding me, man?

I could watch old Manute do his thing
all night and not get tired of it.

I mean, the man's an artist.

Only an artist should be allowed
to touch such a beautiful subject.

Your skin is perfect.

Your nerves, responsive.

Beautiful.

Just give them what they want, Gail.

- Becky?
- It's over, Gail.

There's no fighting them.
Dwight's dead.

They got what's left
of that cop we killed.

Mob's gonna turn it over to the chief,
cops'll mow us down.

We gotta cut a deal.

You little bitch! You sold us out!

I didn't have no choice!
They was gonna hurt my mom.

You gotta cut a deal with these people.
It's selfish, you holding out like this.

You'll get a lot of girls killed
for no good reason.

It wasn't your mom!

We could have protected her
and you know it.

It was the money,
you stupid little bitch!

Sure, there's money. Sure, you
could've moved my mom into Old Town

and let her know
that her daughter's a goddamn whore.

Breaks your heart, doesn't it?

They offered me what you couldn't
never offer me: a way out.

I had to watch out for my own neck.

Your neck.

Your precious, scrawny, little neck!

You're crazy! You could have
ripped my throat out, you crazy whore!

Schutz, fetch my blades.

- Stuka, kill this one.
- No, I was promised!

Stupid little bitch!
You deserve worse!

I knew there was a reason
I got out of bed this morning.

Hey.

Hey.

Nobody. I don't see nobody.

Will you look at that?
It's right through me. Guys, look.

There's something wrapped around it.

- Some kind of note.
- Give it to me.

It's poked right through me.
Guys, look.

- Starting to really hurt.
- Out back. Everyone. Bring the women.

Do you think somebody
should call me a doctor or something?

McCarthy, you fool.

Hey.

Guys?

Dozens of them, armed to the teeth.

I'm outnumbered, outgunned.

But the alley is crooked,
dark and very narrow.

They can't surround me.

Sometimes, you can beat the odds with
the careful choice of where to fight.

You can have Old Town, I don't care.

Just give me the woman.

Shut up.

Dwight, don't do this.

- Wait a minute. Something's not right.
- Shut up, or I'll plug you!

Of course, Mr McCarthy.
A fair trade. She's all yours.

Now, if you'll explain to me why we
shouldn't blow both of you to pieces...

Dwight, what have you done?

Exactly what I had to.

Every step of the way.

No! It isn't right!
There wasn't no tape over his mouth!

How come there's tape over his mouth?

Where to fight counts for a lot.

Cute trick, McCarthy,
but it will do you no good.

But there's nothing like having
your friends show up with lots of guns.

No! McCarthy, you shit!

The girls all know the score.

No escape,

no surrender, no mercy.

We gotta kill every last
rat bastard one of 'em.

Every last one.

Not for revenge,
not because they deserve it,

not because it'll make
the world a better place.

We need a heap of bloody bodies

so when mob boss Wallenquist looks over
his charts of profits and losses,

he'll see what it cost him
to mess with the girls of Old Town.

They run out back.

Right on schedule.

Deadly, little Miho.

She gets her practice in.

The Valkyrie at my side
is shouting and laughing

with the pure, hateful,
bloodthirsty joy of the slaughter,

and so am I.

The fire, baby.
It'll burn us both.

There's no place in this world
for our kind of fire,

my warrior woman, my Valkyrie.

You'll always be mine.

Always... and never.