Original subtitles

(marching music)

(men singing in German language)

(marching music continues)

(men singing in German language)

(truck rattling)

(truck running)

(marching music continues)

(truck revving)

(gears grinding)

(marching music continues)

(men singing in German language)

(phone ringing)

- Martin Bormann, Super Service.

- [Caller] Clint, please.

- Oh, good morning, SuperAngel.

How are you? - Cut the bullshit,

| wanna talk to Clint.

Is he busy?

- No, no, no, no, no. He's not too busy.

ll call him for you. Hang on.

- [SuperAngel] Don't take all day.

- You're down about a quart. What do you use?

- What do you got?

- l'd recommend 10-40.

- Sounds like a good number.

- Clint, phone. ll take over for you.

(stripper music)

- [Clint] Clint.

- Honey, we're out of cat food.

- Well, go to the store and get some.

- Well, l'm not dressed.

Besides, l'm lonely, Clint.

Why don't you come home?

Clint? (door closing)

Clint? - Oh, no way baby.

There's just Martin and I.

- Oh, he can handle it.

- | Know you find it difficult to understand,

but l'm paid to do a job here.

Besides, we're starting to get busy.

- [SuperAngel] See, l'm just not important to you.

- Got any paper towels, good-lookin'?

- Who's that?

- Hang on, l've gotta get something for a customer.

- Clint!

Clint, hey, who in the hell was that?

- [Clint] Here, catch.

- [SuperAngel] Clint? Clint?

You answer me.

- À customer needed some towels, Angel.

- Who in the fuck was that?

- Just a chick.

- You son of a bitch.

- À fat ass and no tits.

- Bullshit.

- You make her look like a boy.

- Oh! (laughing)

Well, that's better.

That's much better.

Come on home, stud, to our big bed.

SuperAngel's got a big need.

- Hey! Would you spare me a little of your time?

- Gotta hang up on you, Angel.

Martin can't hack it by himself. Bye.

- Goddamn you!

(slamming phone)

(phone ringing) (stripper music)

- Martin Bormann Super Service.

- Who the hell is this?

- SuperLorna.

- Get off the line, bitch.

| wanna talk to Cliff Ramsey.

Goddamn it, you're the one he's been balling!

- Can't wait to strap on your groovy old man.

(SuperAngel screaming)

- Where's the men's room?

- Right over there.

(stripper music)

(phone ringing)

- Can | take it out in trade?

- Credit cards or cash.

- Martin Bormann Super Service.

- Listen to me good, fatso.

You get your kraut ass out on that pump island

and tell my old man to get home now,

or | am going to burn down this fuckin' lean-to.

(hanging up phone)

(upbeat band music)

- No exceptions?

(horn honking)

(marching band music)

(tires squealing)

- Win some, lose some.

(car starting)

- | bring you an ultimatum from the Fuhrer.

Either you get your ass home machen schnell,

or you Won't have a house to come home to.

- That no-good bitch!

(dramatic orchestral music)

(truck starting)

(truck revving)

(phone ringing)

(soft music)

(truck rattling)

(dramatic orchestral music)

(door closing)

(dog barking)

(bright orchestral music)

- Okay, Angel, now what's with this shit

embarrassing me again in front of my boss?

Your phony threats, burn down the house?

Goddamn it. Goddamn it, Angel!

What the hell's the matter with you?

Where else could you spend so much time on your back

outside of a wWhorehouse?

Call me away from my job one more time and it's your ass.

| mean it, your ass!

Back to that pornographer of yours

who used to take all your shitty abuse.

Angel, the spoiled bitch crap is finished.

You hear me? l've had it.

(bright band music)

Gotta play the man-killer.

Groovy guys, muscles her specialty.

Burn ‘em at both ends. Suck ‘em inside out.

Always dealing from a position of strength.

Blowing my hard-earned bread.

You've played out your bullshit game with me.

Angel number one, screw everybody else.

Give her what she wants, when she wants it, how she wants it.

Money, a shitpile of it, just lay it on Angel.

Forget where it came from, right?

Just lay it on Angel.

Lie, spin, give it away.

Rip off any jerk who says no to her.

Life's just one big gas for you, isn't it?

Well l'm gonna blow this chicken-shit scene.

l'm gonna blow.…

(zipper unzipping)

(soft music)

(SuperAngel panting and cooing)

(sexy music)

- Was it good? - Yeah.

- | mean that chick you screwed in your lousy truck.

(tense music)

- There's no other chick.

- Admit to it, you bastard.

Your fag boss always covering up for you.

That's why you couldn't get it off with me.

- l'm sick of your demands, your accusations.

Your ass isn't worth your ass, Angel.

- You!

- Angel. - Goddamn you!

- [Clint] Stop it.

- Don't you knock my ass, you dickface.

| give you my body, the most beautiful bod you've ever had,

and you don't even appreciate it!

- [Clint] Come on.

- [SuperAngel] What have you had? You have faggot friends

and a rotten mother whore.

(SuperAngel screaming)

- AU right, that's enough, Angel.

Shut your ugly mouth. Say one more thing about my mother

and l'U bust your goddamn jaw.

(tense music)

SuperAngel, you've ripped me off for the last time.

Go bang the King's regiment, | don't give a damn anymore.

(tense music)

(slamming door)

- Son of a bitch.

(truck starting)

(windshield shattering)

Screw you, you goddamn shit!

That's what | think of your threats.

- Angel, you bitch.

Wait, ‘til | get your ass.

- You goddamn-- - Angel.

(ax smashing)

Hey, that's my truck.

- [SuperAngel] (indistinct) my lovers, my young stud.

- Angel.

(confused shouting)

- You're fucking trash, you're trash.

(smashing glass)

- [Clint] What's the matter with you?

- [SuperAngel] You son of a bitch.

- [Clint] Stop it now, that's my truck.

You crazy bitch.

- [SuperAngel] | wanted a Cadillac. Even a Lincoln.

Clint, you bastard.

(confused shouting)

(indistinct) You cheap asshole!

(confused shouting)

- [Clint] Give me that! - [SuperAngel] Let go of it.

(confused shouting)

Let go of it.

- [Clint] You dirty goddamn bitch, let go!

- [SuperAngel] You dirty bastard!

Let go of me, you prick!

- [Clint] lUUget your ass.

(confused shouting)

Come here.

(high-tension music)

- [SuperAngel] Let go of me, you're hurting me.

Let go!

- That's right, officer, 1825 La Mesa.

(confused shouting)

- [Clint] Come on.

- [SuperAngel] Let go of me.

- He's trying to kill her. You gotta hurry,.

(SuperAngel screaming)

- [SuperAngel] Let me go! (screaming)

(Clint muffled) Ow, you bitch. You bit me. Come here.

Let go of me, Clint.

(SuperAngel screaming)

Let me go. (screaming)

(siren blaring)

- Officer.

Officer, that guy's trying to kill his wife.

That guy's trying to kill his wife, officer.

- You hear me? Come on.

- Help!

(slappin i g Cli - Ow! 70

- Ml'have the police come in here and... (screaming)

- [Dispatch] Community to Rescue 4. 1012 Las Palmas.

- Is she hurt bad, officer?

- Well, well call you if we need you.

Now, you get your old, funky ass outta here.

- | was only trying to help. - | said get outta here.

(siren blaring)

(water splashing)

You better learn how to control

that temper a little bit, hoss.

Goddamn, you're gonna wind up

killing somebody one of these days.

Your old lady's on her way over to emergency hospital.

What's gonna happen to you, of course,

depends on what she has to say,

And you better hope it's something good,

or else you in trouble.

Know what | mean?

Shit, l've seen you someplace before.

You work for that old Heinie Martin Bormann, don't you?

Well, l'U be damned.

Well, let's see here what we gotta do about you.

We're gonna give you a break.

You go on back to work.

Let your old lady calm down a little bit.

Let her cool off.

ll be in touch with you.

Hey, hoss…

Don't you go gettin no rabbit in your blood

and trying to run on me now,

‘cause if you do, l'm gonna have to hurt you.

Now, go on and get the fuck outta here.

Go on.

(somber music)

- [Intercom Voice] Supervisor of Ward B-11.

- Checking for lumps, Dr. Scholl?

- Nothing broken, young lady.

Just stay in bed a couple of days

and drink a lot of hot chicken soup.

Helluva pair of tits.

Best l've seen in a long time.

- [Intercom Voice] Dr. Slovish, please call your office.

- Hi, lm patrolman Harry Sledge.

- | want that no good son of a bitch thrown in the slammer.

He has beaten me up for the last time.

- [Intercom Voice] Stat call for IC room seven.

- | don't mean to dispute your word, Mrs. Ramsey,

but from looks your old man,

l'd say it's the other way around.

Like he tangled with a wildcat.

- It's not Mrs. Ramsey.

l'm Angel.

Angel Turner.

- [Intercom Voice] Dr. Siegel,

please return to the administration office.

- Thanks for taking the asshole out.

- That wasn't no big thing.

Always happy to help a young lady in distress,

especially such a fine-looking lady.

- Maybe | can return the favor.

(upbeat band music)

- Why don't you take a couple of hours off?

Go home, get cleaned up.

The rush is over.

- Thanks, Martin, | think l'U do that.

(door closing)

(tense orchestral music)

(knocking on door)

(tense music)

- Get out of here, you philander, you woman-beater.

(slamming door)

(comedic music)

Prick!

(tense music)

(slamming ax)

(dramatic orchestral music)

(truck starting)

(dramatic orchestral music)

| have a feeling my old man won't be back.

Not today anyway.

Can | make you a drink, Harry?

- No thanks, l'i just enjoy my cigar.

- Oh, | like a good cigar,

but | take it outta my mouth on occasion. (chuckling)

Do you wanna dance?

- No, | never could hack it.

(upbeat band music)

- [SuperAngel] Do you mind if | do?

- Why, hell no.

(upbeat jazz music)

(upbeat jazz music continues)

(cash register ringing)

(acoustic guitar music)

- Who worked you over, Clint?

- Just pour, Haïji.

Just pour, nothing else.

- You nice men always let the good stuff get away. (laughing)

- [SuperAngel] You don't dance and you don't drink.

You gotta be big in bed.

- You try me, you find out.

(upbeat band music)

- Give me a few minutes, Harry.

| always like to take a hot bath first.

(upbeat band music)

(ominous orchestral music)

(acoustic guitar music)

- Don't drink so much, good-looking. It slows you down.

- Nobody tells me when to stop drinking.

(acoustic guitar music)

- | get off in two hours.

(acoustic guitar music)

- | reckon.….

| reckon Angels tits are bigger than yours.

(dark music stinger)

- Come on, Harry. l'm ready.

- fm not.

(light music)

- | got just what the doctor ordered.

- | don't cotton to that.

- Harry, | never left a good man down yet.

- Knock that queer shit off.

Now, we're gonna do it my way or not at all.

- But you have so much to offer.

All you need is a little help.

- Goddamn it, | told you it's not workin' for me.

(light band music)

- Not working for you? What the hell's wrong?

What the hell is wrong with you?

(light music)

Not ready, with my beautiful body?

You got a lot of nerve, buster, telling me you're not ready.

All those muscles, except the one that really counts.

- Get outta my bed, you phony.

(SuperAngel slapping)

(playful music)

Maybe you didn't hear me right, pig.

Get your ass outta my bed!

(light music)

(upbeat jazz music)

(upbeat jazz music continues)

(door closing)

- Oh, well, that's the way it goes, baby.

Some day you're up, some day you're down.

l'UU drop by tomorrow.

(slapping Angel's butt)

(drink splashing)

- Tomorrow?

Tomorrow, my ass.

How do you know you can even get it up tomorrow,

you limp faggot?

Tomorrow, shit!

Besides, my old man will be coming tomorrow.

Or tonight, if | can find him.

That beautiful young stud | threw outta here for you?

Oh Jesus, what a joke!

Beat it, you jack-off,

before | call the cops. (laughing)

That's a funny one, isn't it?

Me callin' the pigs on a pig.

(Harry slugging Angel)

(funky music)

- That's what you get for bein' sassy.

You about the sorriest, foul-mouthed bitch

lever met in my life.

You threatened me, didn't you? Huh?

leave when l'm damn good and ready.

Matter of fact, | think l'U just stick around,

have myself a little drink.

(upbeat jazz music)

(radio switching stations)

(phone crashing)

(country music)

- [SuperAngel] You bastard.

- Telephone's outta order. - Bastard.

You hit me. You hit my beautiful body.

lm gonna kill you.

(Harry laughing)

(country music)

(vase smashing)

(vase smashing)

- | guess that little smack in the belly

didn't do anything for you.

Now l'm gonna have to teach you a serious lesson.

(lamp crashing)

Al right! Come on, hit me!

Matter of fact, l'm gonna get you

for all the guys you shit on.

Come on, hit me, hurt me!

Oh yeah, come on!

Where's that little man of yours?

Huh? What'd you call him, matches?

Come on, if you're gonna hurt me, you might as well hurt me!

Hit me, you bitch!

Come on, cunt!

You better simmer down a little bit,

‘cause my patience is running thin.

(country music)

(Harry slapping Angel)

- Now get your ass in the bedroom

and see what's coming up next.

(door closing)

(lock clicking)

(Harry laughing)

(lamp crashing)

(picture falling)

(SuperAngel gasping)

(window smashing)

Angel?

SuperAngel?

Come on, honey, open the door.

Get out, get out, get out!

Get out of my house, you freak!

- [ain't gonna hurt you.

- Besides, l'm ready now.

- call the cops, | will.

| swear l'U call the cops.

- Got my shit together.

- Get out, get out, get out.

Get out of my house, l'Il call the cops.

| will, you freak. l'il call the cops.

- You got all the police you ever gonna need.

Now, you better open this goddamn door,

or l'm gonna bust it down.

| said open this fucking door!

(banging door)

(Harry grunting)

(SuperAngel laughing)

- What's the matter, super- faggot Harry? (laughing)

Al your other muscles gone limp, too? (laughing)

Well, it doesn't matter.

| can always depend on horny old Rufus next door

to call the cops on you.

You ought to know, pig.

Super-stud pig.

(drawer opening)

That won't work either, Harry.

l tried it once myself.

Of course, you probably couldn't do it

even if it could be done.

l'm glad my old man doesn't have your problems.

Of course, you know what they say about young, skinny boys.

They're all cock.

Boy, isn't that the truth?

Not like you.

Is that why you carry your big night stick, Harry? Hmm?

It's probably the closest you can come, huh? (laughing)

Maybe you were good once, huh?

Maybe you're just getting old

and shriveled up, kind of wrinkled.

l called you a faggot, but you don't even rate that.

At least fags have someone to do it with.

Old shriveled-up Harry. (laughing)

Old prune-prick Harry. (laughing)

- Well, you gonna rue the day you was born, woman,

when I get my hands on you.

(upbeat jazz music)

l'm gonna have to hurt you, now.

You ever been cut by a knife, huh?

(upbeat jazz music)

Yeah, | am gonna cut you like a fucking hog.

You sorry bitch!

Cunt!

Fucking bitch!

(Harry grunting)

l'm gonna cut your ass off!

You fucking pig!

(upbeat jazz music)

(Harry yelling)

lUfucking kill your ass! (indistinct)

Shit.

(upbeat jazz music)

(wood groaning)

(Harry gasping)

(door crashing)

(SuperAngel screaming)

(Harry yelling)

(SuperAngel screaming)

(SuperAngel screaming)

(water splashing)

(SuperAngel screaming)

(dramatic music)

- [Radio DJ] And that concludes your Kermit Cain

all music, all pleasure show from FM channel 98.

Now in keeping with KPZK's recognized responsibility

to the community at large,

we bring you live from the United Nations General Assembly,

Sir Bagot Hype of Great Britain speaking in rebuttal

to the Union of South Africa's (indistinct).

Bagot Hype has been speaking uninterruptedly this past.

- Lousy Lay, huh?

- [Bagot] Like precepts of equality, justice

and freedom spread with the speed

of Wwildfire across the West Indies.

The firestorm of a new moral conception,

uprisings in revolution spread

to all parts of the hemisphere.

- You're quite a turn-on yourself.

- [Bagot] Feeding on itself, unquenchable…

(SuperAngel screaming)

(cacophonous music)

(radio exploding)

(electric buzzing)

(electric buzzing)

(circuits exploding)

(dog barking)

(car starting)

- Fire! Fire! (dramatic orchestral music)

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Clint, hey, come on.

Arschloch. Arschloch.

Why did you do it? Why?

- Do what?

- Don't gimme that scheisse,

you know what l'm talking about.

- Stop the Gestapo shit, Martin, Jesus!

- AU right.

A little beating.… But to burn her?

- Burn who?

- Angel. She's dead.

(somber music)

- What?

- Angel's dead? Who did it?

- Oh, bullshit.

- le been here for hours.

l've been here for hours!

Look, | can prove it.

- | hope so.

- Here, Haji..…

Here, Hajill tell you | was here tonight.

Ain't that right, baby?

- You lie, boy.

(dark music)

He came in just a few minutes ago, just before you got here.

- You lying bitch!

(dramatic music)

Damn it, Martin, she's lying!

- You prick!

- She's lying, goddamn it, Martin.

- AU right, now the truth.

- Will you let-- Let go, let go, let go.

Martin, that broad's lying.

She's hot at my ass for not balling her tonight.

Believe what you want.

(mysterious music)

- Well, somebody killed her,

and you're the most likely pigeon.

You‘ve gotta get outta town tonight.

Here's $103.

That's all that | had in the till.

l'lUsend you more just as soon as | hear from you.

Now, schnell, you can get a ride here easy.

Good luck.

(tense music)

Auf wiedersehen.

- [Clint] Thanks, Martin.

(marching music)

(men singing in German language)

- [Driver] Where you heading?

- Going west. - Get in.

Going as far as San Quentin, just past the state line.

(door closing)

(car revving)

Well, here's where I turn off.

- [Clint] | appreciate it.

- [Driver] Don't mention it.

(slow, funky music)

- Stop, Cal, pick him up.

(tires squealing)

(funky jazz music continues)

- Where you heading, man?

- Going west.

- Jump in.

Our good deed for the day.

- [Clint] Yeah, sure appreciate it.

- [Kyle] l'm Cal McKinney.

This is my woman, man, SuperCherry.

- im Clint Ramsey.

- Hi there.

Like | was saying, how does my beautiful bod look today?

- Dynamite, baby. Dynamite.

- lm one up on you cocksmiths.

| came in the shower this morning.

Yeah, | came without even touching myself.

Just the hot water beating on my body.

- Can you beat that, Clint? (laughing)

- | dig masturbation.

| mean, besides five fingers,

l've discovered some really groovy ways, like,

like underneath my left breast,

it rolls over my rib when I! thump it

and then |...

| just rub it really, really

gently... Like this.

Here, feel.

- Yeah.

- And she's just getting started, man.

Can, can you handle it, Mr. Ramsey?

(funky jazz music)

- |, l'appreciate the hospitality, the ride, | mean,

but, Miss, uh--

- Cherry,

SuperCherry.

- Miss SuperCherry,

could you move over a little bit?

- Hey, pilgrim, rejecting my baby like that, huh?

- Oh, he doesn't mean it like that.

Probably he'd like me to get, get even closer.

You know, | can get it on like this, too,

and it seems to do something for the dude.

- Okay, all right. Hold it right there.

Will you pull over? | gotta cut out.

(upbeat jazz music)

Okay?

Uh, thanks for the ride, okay?

- You gonna let that stove act so dumb.

- You know me better than that, babe.

(car running)

(door closing)

Hey,

Clint brother.

That's no way to talk to SuperCherry.

- No offense intended.

- You're not showing the proper respect for a lady.

(dark music)

- Now, l' Let that pass.

Just get in your car and leave me alone.

- Yeah.

Yeah, l'U leave you alone.

(high-tension music)

l'UU Kill you.

(both grunting and yelling)

- [SuperCherry] l' kill you.

(dissonant music)

(Clint groaning)

Cal.

(somber music)

And half of it's mine.

- Uh-huh.

(soft music)

(snake rattling)

(snake striking)

(Cal screaming)

- Cal!

- | got bit.

Jesus!

- Cal!

- Snake and pain.

Oh, damn it.

Suck it out.

Suck it! Suck it!

(SuperCherry squealing)

(SuperCherry spitting)

- Oh, you don't even give good head.

Damn you.

You (indistinct) bitch.

Get me to a doctor. Hurry.

- [SuperCherry] Get in, hurry.

| can't get you in.

- [Cal] ! ought to let that snake bite you right on the ass.

(Cal groaning)

(SuperCherry muffled)

(tires spinning)

(tires squealing)

(upbeat jazz music)

(car running)

(door closing)

- You all right, boy?

- Yeah. Great, just great.

Yeah, | guess l'm okay.

(tense music)

Son of a bitch.

(sad music)

- Come on.

Rides are damn scarce along this county road.

(soft music)

(door closing)

(car starting)

(uptempo music)

You must have run into a real rough customer,

judging from the working over you got.

- There were two of them.

- My farm's about 90 miles ahead.

Just at the edge of the desert.

Nothing to speak of in between.

l've been to Brawley picking up supplies.

Where are you headed?

- West.

- Why don't you lean back and relax?

The rest will do you good.

(uptempo orchestral music)

(uptempo orchestral music)

(chickens clucking)

(door closing)

(door closing)

My wife's Austrian, one of them mail order brides.

Let's go inside and meet Soul.

| give her that name myself.

Her Austrian name was too hard to pronounce,

and besides, fits her to aT.

(oompah music)

Sit down, boy.

Make yourself at home.

| guess Soul's doing her chores.

(Soul humming)

Yeah, | see her coming now.

Yes, sir.

Nothing like a woman around the house to keep a body happy.

(waltz music)

Soul,

this here is a young man

that misfortune befell, name of Clint Ramsey.

Two vicious highwaymen waylaid him.

Robbed him and left him to perish in the cruel desert.

(Soul speaking in German language)

- Soul, you must speak English in front of our young guest.

Now, see to his wounds, wife.

- Ja. Ja.

- You and your husband have a very nice farm here.

- Yeah, it is nice here,

but sometimes very einsam .… lonely.

- Your husband's a very kind man.

| don't Know what | would've done if he hadn't come along.

- You are very handsome.

(rooster crowing)

And you have a young, stark body.

You make a woman very tickly.

- Well, wife, haven't you got our young man patched up yet?

(light music)

Quite a woman, eh, Mr. Ramsey?

And wait ‘til you taste her cooking.

Boy, them European women really know how

to take care of a man.

(sexual moaning)

(Soul gasping)

(Soul gasping)

(toilet flushing)

(knocking on door)

- What are you doing here?

- Guten abend.

- Yeah.

- What are you doing in here? (uptempo orchestral music)

Your husband.

- | like you like my husband. He needs his rest.

- Get the fuck out of here.

(muffled speaking)

(comedic music)

Get the hell out of here.

(brassy music)

(door closing)

(bluegrass music)

(Soul gasping)

(Clint pounding)

(bluegrass music)

(Soul gasping)

(chicken clucking)

- Oh, Lute, | can't take it. You've been so damn nice to me.

- That was our deal.

You take it, and let's be done with it.

- Well, l'Ube leaving soon.

- Well, l'Usee you before you go.

Oh, before you get cleaned up,

would you go in the barn

and pitch some hay down out of the loft?

- Sure.

- | gotta dig some post holes.

(Soul milking)

(cow mooiïng)

(Soul milking)

- Oh, good morning. Milking the cow, are you?

- Ja, ja.

- Lute told me to pitch some hay?

(light music)

- Ja, ja.

(Soul milking)

(breezy music)

(breezy music)

(digger running)

- Oh, not this again.

(Soul speaking in German language)

Your husband's gonna come--

Your husband... Don't do that.

Let go.

Will you let go of my cock?

- Shh.

(speaking in German language)

- He's gonna come up here.

| can't breathe.

You're smothering me.

(both breathing heavily)

(both mumbling)

Get the hell outta here.

Come on, your husband.

Your husband.

(driller running)

(Soul speaking in German language)

Soul, will you let--

(Soul speaking in German language)

Goddamn it, will you let--

(Soul speaking in German language)

- Get the fuck out of here, will you?

He's gonna come up.

| can't breathe. You're smothering me.

(Soul speaking in German language)

(Soul panting)

(Soul speaking in German language)

(driller running)

(oompah music)

Your husband's gonna come up here.

(Soul speaking in German language)

- Ja, ja.

Ja, ja.

Ja!

- Shit.

(Soul breathing heavily)

- Would you, would you?

- [Lute] Clint?

Clint, could you give me a hand a minute?

- [Clint] Stop that, will you?

(muffled speaking)

(dark music)

(uptempo music)

- [s this how | rate?

lhaul your ungrateful ass to comfort and safety,

see to your wounds, feed you, provide a roof, a clean bed,

blessed you with money?

And you repay me by fucking my Austrian wife.

By God,

you'll not live to fuck another man's wife.

- l'd try to explain but... You'd never believe me.

Thanks for everything.

(dramatic music)

- Son of a bitch.

Make a cuckold out of me, will you?

l'U deal with you later.

(tense music)

- My jacket! My jacket!

(tense music)

(tense music continues)

(dramatic music)

- Run, you coward!

Desecrator of connubial bliss!

Pawn of treachery!

(dark orchestral music)

(uptempo marching band music)

(door creaking)

(band music continues)

(tense music)

(tense music)

Now, you get your kraut ass over to the house

and rustle me up some supper.

- Jahowl, mein Herr!

(Lute screaming)

- [Soul] Oh, my God!

(Lute screaming)

- [Clint] Sure appreciate it.

- [Driver] Don't mention it. (door closing)

(traffic passing)

(uptempo band music)

- Well, what can | do for you, young man?

- l'd like a single.

(uptempo band music)

You were about to speak your needs, young man.

- Yes, sir, | need a single.

- Al right, that'll be $10, in advance.

And checkout time is 10 o'clock.

- Okay, l'Utake it.

(uptempo band music)

- | don't know what these kids are up to these days.

My daughter Eula.

She can't talk nor hear.

She's been that way ever since she was born.

After her mother died-- Eula was only five at the time--

had the job of raising her myself.

That's a big job nowadays.

Lots of temptation around.

She's just a child.

But l'il tell you something, son.

Anyone that would harm a hair on her pretty head,

just one hair,

would answer to this.

| didn't raise her just to have some young skallywag

come along and take advantage of her handicap.

- | don't blame you, sir.

Well, here's your $10.

Thanks.

(uptempo band music)

(uptempo band music continues)

(uptempo band music continues)

(engine starting)

(tires squealing)

(upbeat funk music)

(pumping accelerator)

(Battle Hymn of the Republic")

(knocking on door)

No way.

(‘Battle Hymn of the Republic” continues)

Okay.

Well, it smells like it's flooded.

You gotta hold the throttle all the way to the floor.

(buggy attempting to start)

(buggy starting, roaring)

(buggy running)

Oh, no.

(rock music)

(bluegrass music)

(buggy racing)

Hey, that looks like your old man.

That is your old man, sure as hell.

Well, come on.

Come on!

- There they are over yonder,

up on that mesa.

(buggy racing)

- That dirty son of a bitch.

(buggy running)

(buggy starting)

- Come on.

Never mind it. Give me that, come on.

Hey, come on, will ya? Come on.

(buggy running)

Come on, get in, get in.

(buggy running)

- Come on, Sheriff.

You dirty little hippie swine,

messing around with my daughter,

my beautiful young daughter.

(buggy running)

Come on, Sheriff, come on.

Let's get him. Let's get him.

Come on, come on. Get in.

(upbeat bluegrass music)

(buggy racing)

(bluegrass music continues)

(bluegrass music continues)

(buggies racing)

(engine revving)

(door closing)

- Oh, that son of a bitch!

(bluegrass music continues)

Al right, Sheriff. Get out and gimme a push, will you?

Let me see if we can get this thing out here.

(buggy racing)

(bluegrass music continues)

- Stop! Stop! Stop in the name of the law!

Goddamn it, stop!

(buggy racing)

- Al right, Sheriff, come on.

Get the lard out of your ass and push.

(engine revving)

Get in.

Will you close the goddamn door?

Let's go!

(bluegrass music continues)

(tires squealing)

(bluegrass music continues)

- Hey! Hey, buddy, | need help.

llUgive you 10--

l'lUgive you 20 bucks if you take me to the next town.

Pull over!

| gotta get outta town.

That chick's father's after my ass.

- Sure, buddy. Hop in.

(soft, sensual music)

- Ah-ha, a fatal mistake.

He won't outrun me in that truck.

- [Clint] Okay, let's haul ass.

(buggy racing)

- What are you doing now?

Mesquite County's out of my jurisdiction.

- What do you mean?

That blackerd's a criminal, a rapist.

(upbeat band music)

- Are you gonna turn this crate around

or Will | have to?

(buggy revving)

(dramatic orchestral music)

Luther, l'm citing you

for violating Arizona motor vehicle code,

sections 708-5,

drag racing on a highway;

693-2, reckless driving.…

- [Luther] Why, you fat son of a bitch!

- [Sheriff] And section 723-6,

directing abusive language at a peace officer.

- Keep it up.

Keep it up, goddamn it.

Keep it up. (panting)

- You sure you wouldn't like to come up to my fishing lodge

and spend a couple of days fishing?

My wife and | would love to have you.

- No, | gotta keep moving.

But | sure appreciate the ride.

- Forget it.

Good luck.

- | could sure use some.

Thanks.

(romantic orchestral music)

(woman moaning)

(dramatic orchestral music)

(mountain exploding)

(sensual orchestral music)

(mountain exploding)

(horn beeping)

- Oh, l'm sorry. Coffee's on me.

- Haven't got all day, lady.

- [be right back.

l'UUonly be a minute.

- [Voice On Radio] This is Jerome.

Fred J. Hawker, over out and clear.

Time for a real DX skip this time.

Come in, you all out there in Radioland.

This is Candy Cane, back to Roller Ball.

You're booming in here, 5-10.

My 10-10 is over here in Teton County.

Coming back to you using a home brew antenna.

Standing by for a little rag chew.

- [Bruce] Candy Cane, this is Bruce, back to you.

Not only great (indistinct),

but still good for little rag chew.

lm using a reworked collar craft to rig

With an overdrive on the final.

(van starting)

- Well, l see there are no broken bones.

l'm sorry about that.

- |f lever recruit a woman's football team,

| Know where to start.

- Thanks a lot.

Did you want anything?

- Cheeseburger with everything?

(horn honking) Oh, damn it.

- Let me help you.

- Fine.

- | used to be in the business. Business...

(romantic orchestral music)

(car starting)

(romantic orchestral music continues)

(horn honking)

- | can get it.

(uptempo orchestral music)

(horn honking)

- Hello. - Wanna take some gas.

- [Attendant] Would you like ethyl or regular?

- You give good head? - Oh! (driver laughing)

(engine revving)

- You're about a quart low, Stanley.

You forgot your raincoat.

(comedic music)

(soft music)

Hey, wait a minute.

You did me a favor. (panting)

You don't owe me for lunch. (panting)

Not from around here, are you? (laughing)

And neiïther am I.

My old man bought it in Nam.

He left me the business.

l've been running it a couple years.

had an old guy pumping gas for me.

He had a booze problem.

He split a couple weeks ago.

lhadn't been able to find anybody to help me.

So, what's with you?

You just passing through?

- Yeah, passing through.

- Oh, my name's SuperVixen, like the sign says.

My friends call me Vix. What's yours?

- Clint, Vix.

(Vix laughing)

- Well, Clint, | need help.

If you could only work for a week,

l'd pay you a hundred and a half

and meals and a roof over your head.

There's a little cabin out back.

You could be comfortable there.

(light orchestral music)

(Light orchestral music continues)

Clint?

Clint, where are you?

(Vix squealing)

(Light orchestral music continues)

(water flowing)

(Light orchestral music continues)

(tense music)

(water flowing)

(Vix laughing)

(Vix panting)

- KFA 166. How about it, Clint?

Hey you in the Vixen Mobile, your base is looking for you.

- Yeah, unit one to base, over.

- It's getting heavy, honey.

Can you come to your home 20?

- Yeah, Jim Ryan's out of trouble.

Catch you later.

Unit one clear.

- Hello, ethyl or regular? - Regular.

(horn beeping)

(horn beeping)

(door closing)

- Let me handle it.

- Hello. Good to see you.

Oh, | forgot the hamburger.

(bluegrass music)

- [Clint] Check under the hood?

- AU right.

- Water's okay, and the oil's right there.

l'd recommend 10-40.

- AU right.

(bluegrass music)

(horn honking)

- [Harry] Hey, hoss, ain't | seen you someplace before?

(tense music)

- No, | don't think so.

(ominous music)

- You ever do a hitch in the service?

- (chuckling) Nah, not me.

| went back to school instead.

- Know this guy in ‘Nam looked just like you.

How about Kansas City, ever hit that town?

- Nah, not me.

- Well, it must have been somebody else.

- Oh, fishermen, are ya?

You looking for some action?

- Yeah, maybe.

Hey, where's the growler?

- The what?

- The shithouse.

- Oh, it's around back.

(light music)

(door closing)

Don't mind if | join you, do you?

- No, not if you ain't no goddamn queer.

- Oh no, that's where I live.

It's over there.

- Oh.

Say, fishing's pretty good around here, huh?

- [Clint] If you got time you ought to try your luck.

- [Harry] Why don't you take off

and show me a couple of holes?

- [Clint] Well, l'd like to, but | gotta work.

- [Harry] Come on, well get a six pack and have a ball.

(bluegrass music)

Just you two run the place?

- [Clint] Yeah.

- She ain't got you by the balls, has she?

- Just a minute.

- [Radio Voice] Breaker, break.

This is Boll Weevil saying hello

to all you lovely people working the SSBs.

l'm ready to chew the rag With anyone but Bruce.

- And what can | do for you, handsome?

- l'd like to take the day off tomorrow, boss.

| just got a good offer...

To go fishing.

- Well, what about the generators in Blythe?

- | could pick ‘em up day after tomorrow.

- | was just teasing. Of course you can, hot stuff.

- [make it up to you, beautiful.

- Well, lUbe waiting for that.

- Hey, hold that a second before you hang up.

- Oh, waït a second.

- | can take you and your ol lady to dinner tonight

to show you my appreciation.

- Hey, | just got an invite for dinner.

You want to go tonight?

- We can't go to dinner, honey.

The cafe's not gonna run by itself.

But drinks and dancing later sound great.

(burger sizzling)

Oh, there go the profits, | gotta go.

- Can't make dinner,

but how about a couple of drinks at the Sultan's Den?

- [Harry] Fine. Any good motels around?

- There's a nice place about eight miles south of here.

- AU right.

- l'm Clint, Clint Ramsey.

- Harry, Harry Sledge.

- See you later.

- AU right.

(car starting)

- [Vix] Come on, let's dance.

(upbeat jazz music)

(tires squealing)

(tires squealing)

(dark bluegrass music)

(gravel spraying)

(dark bluegrass music continues)

(tense instrumental music)

(car running)

(tense instrumental music continues)

(stripper music)

(door closing)

(change ringing)

- Hi, operator. Could you give me the number

to SuperVixen's Oasis, please, ma'am?

(operator speaking in foreign language)

- Would you repeat it, please?

- [Operator] 255-

7689.

- Thank you very much. Bye now.

(upbeat jazz music)

- Oh, Harry looks kind of lonely.

Why don't you ask him to dance?

(upbeat jazz music)

- | get weird vibes from him.

He's creepy.

- [Clint] Man-hater. (Vix laughing)

- | don't hate you.

- Y'all want another drink?

- Yeah, whiskey sour for Vix,

and l'i stay with the same.

- Okay.

You know, | don't usually drink,

but l'm having such a good time tonight

| think l'm gonna have myself another one for the road.

Lemme have a double bourbon.

(bluegrass music)

- Mr. Sledge, would you like to dance with me?

- L'ain't had an offer like that since the senior prom.

You know something? Still can't dance.

Occasional cigar's about my only vice.

- | Like an occasional cigar, too,

but | take it outta my mouth once in a while.

- (laughing) That's pretty good, huh, Harry?

- Well, Clint boy, here's to a lucky day tomorrow.

- Lucky day tomorrow.

(bluegrass music)

Hey, Vix, like ol’ Harry said,

let's make it an early evening.

- Honey, don't bring up that creep's name

at a time like this.

(sexy jazz music)

Let's forget the preliminaries. (laughing)

Hello.

(sexy jazz music)

(Vix panting)

(sexy jazz music continues)

(Harry laughing)

(alarm clock ringing)

You'd better get up, honey.

Catch some more fish.

(truck starting)

(bluegrass music)

(truck sliding in gravel)

(door closing)

(knocking on door)

- Rise and shine, Harry. Those big ones won't wait.

Hey, come on.

(door creaking)

- Oh shit, man.

Hey, | ain't gonna be able to make it.

l'm sicker than a dog.

- Can | get you anything, an Alka-seltzer?

- No, no.

l'm just gonna have stay in the rack all day

to get to feeling better.

You might as well go on to Blythe

and pick up your generators.

How about tomorrow? Can you get off?

- Well, 1...

Yeah.

Harry, you take care now, okay?

- Take it easy.

(tense music)

(truck starting)

(door closing)

(bluegrass music)

(knocking on door)

Hey, wake up!

Hey, | had a rough night last night,

| ain't feeling too well.

l'lUbe staying another day so | appreciate you

telling that damn nigger maid not to bother me.

l'UU be in the rack.

l'lUsee you later.

(ominous orchestral music)

(change jingling)

(phone ringing)

- Hello? - Hi, Vix. How you doing?

Morning.

- Yeah?

- It's ol Harry here.

- Oh.

- (indistinct)

- Oh, what's wrong? Is something wrong?

- Listen, we got that old truck

stuck out there on the river road.

- Oh.

- Out there where it's parked.

Hey, listen, Clint wants you bring a four wheeler

out there and pull us out.

- [Vix] Where are you calling from?

- Yeah, l'm at the overpass out here on interstate 10.

- AU right, l'UUbe right there.

(instrumental music)

(truck starting)

- [Harry] Hi, Vix.

- [Vix] You guys should have taken

the four wheeler to the river, not the pickup.

Now, Clint knows better than that.

(dramatic orchestral music)

A right, Harry.

Now, what have you done with Clint?

- On his way to Blythe to pick up some generators.

- What do you mean on his way to Blythe?

- Turn the radio on. - | Knew you were weird, Harry,

but | had no idea it was this bad.

Now, | want to know what you've done with Clint.

- You don't take orders very well, do you?

Breaker broke, how about it?

How about that Big Small Bill one time,

you got a copy on us?

Hey, how about it, Clint? You got a copy?

| got old Vixen right here.

- | wanna talk to Clint.

(crosstalk) What the fuck's going on?

- Boy, you hear that?

- You creep.

- What is this, some kind of joke?

- lm gonna tell you something, l'Il tell you once.

You better listen good.

Or else somebody else will.

Hey. (laughing)

You're on your own private channel, ain't you?

lm on Highway 95, that old fishin' road,

about eight miles south of Cholla Junction.

The sign spells it out loud and clear.

- Hey, | didn't copy that.

- Come on.

You bring a fucking gun or anybody with you,

Vixen's gonna wind up like your Angel.

Remember her, Angel?

You left Angel.

(confused shouting)

- You're that cop, huh? - Give me the mic.

That burned her?

- Yeah. She had a loud mouth, too.

Just like this bitch.

She had a loud mouth, | had to stuff a radio init.

- You bastard, you burned Angel.

Now you got Vix.

- And we're gonna be 10-7 out,

until you get your ass down here.

- Harry, don't you hurt her.

Harry! Damn you, don't you--

Harry.

Come in.

Harry.

Harry.

(ominous orchestral music)

Harry.

Harry.

Come in.

Harry.

Come in, damnit.

(ominous orchestral music)

(truck starting)

(truck running)

(high-tension music)

(high-tension music continues)

Harry!

Harry, come in, damnit!

Son of a bitch!

(dramatic orchestral music)

(dramatic orchestral music continues)

Vix!

Vix, answer me!

(horn honking)

Vix!

Answer me!

(door closing)

- Clint, please go back! Go back

and get some help. - Jesus.

- Please, get some get help.

Go get help.

- Vix.

- No, no, no, Harry don't, please don't. (screaming)

(bomb exploding)

- Christ.

- Hey, Ramsey!

You take orders better than her.

How do you like her now?

You're in my war now, hoss.

(dynamite exploding)

You're lucky, hero.

You're lucky.

| got a whole shitpot full of tricks

coming up for you.

(dynamite exploding)

(dramatic orchestral music)

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Come on. - | can't.

| can't, | can't go any further.

- Come on.

(tense music)

Off my damn sack!

- [Will

(high-tension music)

No!

No!

(Harry whistling)

} Where the water is so sweet D

D Running from the line D

D Where the green in the hollers can rest your Weary mind D

D Where a man should grow old carvin' cedarwood D

D And at the Scottsville Express just struck him home D

(Harry whistling)

(Vix gasping)

(dramatic music)

(Vix coughing)

(uptempo marching music)

- Harry?

What are you doing to me?

You let me loose!

Let me loose!

(uptempo marching music)

(Vix screaming)

(dynamite exploding)

(uptempo marching music)

(dynamite exploding)

(dynamite exploding)

(dynamite exploding)

(marching band music)

- You're like a pretty good rabbit, hoss.

Here's what l'm gonna do.

You make it back up that hill where Vixen is,

llUgive you your walking papers.

Okay?

Now, let me see what kind of timber you're made of, boy.

Goddamn it.

(dramatic orchestral music)

(Vix gasping)

- You bastard.

What have you done to Clint?

- [Harry] l'm just putting something together

for your memory book.

(dramatic orchestral music)

Ain't no end to a professional man's bag of tricks.

- [Vix] l've got to get to this nut somehow

or Clint's finished.

(fuse burning)

What am | gonna do?

(marching band music)

(dynamite exploding)

- You bet your money on the wrong hoss, baby.

- [Vix] So that's it.

The creep digs me.

| know.

l'U try flattery.

(dynamite exploding)

It's the only thing left.

- [Harry] He ain't gonna finish last,

‘cause he ain't gonna finish it all.

You can't make a thoroughbred out of a jackass.

(marching band music)

(dynamite exploding)

- Clint's a nice boy.

But you're a man.

- [Harry] You bet your sweet ass, | am.

(dynamite exploding)

- | bet you're really hung, Harry.

- Yep, why you messing around With that asshole?

(dynamite exploding)

- l've always been a muscle freak.

- Yeah, | got a great build.

- Well, tell me about it.

- Built like a brick shithouse.

Biceps, triceps, deltoids, lats and pectorals.

(dynamite exploding)

Yeah, | got it all together.

- Dont forget the muscle of love! (laughing)

(dynamite exploding)

- Work out every day, a man's gotta keep in shape.

- | Know a better way.

(upbeat band music)

(dynamite exploding)

- Hot damn, the boy run like a moonshiner toward the still.

Ain't gonna do him no good though.

- [Vix] Damn it! Even that didn't work.

- Goddamn, no more dynamite.

- [Vix] Oh, my poor Clint.

How long can he escape that deadly wrist bazooka?

- Except maybe this.

- [Vix] And whatever other weapons of war that sack contains.

(megaphone beeping)

- Freeze, scumbag.

That stopped him.

- [Vix] What's that?

À Whip.

Well, | can take anything for my baby.

Anything to keep that creep occupied long enough

for Clint to jump him from behind.

- What you need is a long fuse and a big bang.

(marching band music)

Warm milk catches the old barn cat.

Wild grapes will catch you a possum,

and this will bring him running.

- Oh, God!

No, Harry! No, not that, please.

- Al you gotta remember is Keep your head down

so you won't get it blowed off.

- No! (screaming)

- |t's been fun.

- Clint! (screaming)

- This will be the biggest and last bang you'll ever have.

- Oh, God, no!

(fuse burning)

Harry, help, don't leave me.

(marching band music)

(Vix screaming)

Harry, come back here!

- Vix!

Vix.

- Oh, Clint, stop.

(gun firing)

(Vix screaming)

- Bet that smarted.

(Vix screaming)

- [Clint] Harry!

(fuse burning)

(Vix screaming)

Harry, damn it, put out the fuse!

- Hoss, you're definitely in the need

of some pre-marital counseling.

(gun firing)

(Vix screaming)

Why buy a cow when you get free milk?

- You son of a bitch.

(Vix screaming)

(gun firing)

- Al this horseshit won't mean

a goddamn thing to her six months from now.

(fuse burning)

- [Clint] Shit.

(Vix screaming)

llUget it. Gotta get it.

(gun firing)

(bullet ricocheting)

- Now, listen, don't be so anxious.

Shell squeeze you like a lemon.

Use you up like a box of Kleenex.

(gun firing)

You got your head between your legs.

Keep coming, you and Vix gonna Wind up in a dead heat.

(gun firing)

- Harry, stop it, you bastard.

Clint, stay down.

He wants to kill you. Just stay down.

Honey, please.

(gun firing)

(Vix screaming)

(high-tension music)

(gun firing)

(Vix screaming)

Bastard!

(Vix screaming)

Oh, stay down, Clint.

(high-tension music)

(Clint grunting)

(Vix screaming)

(bluegrass music)

Clint, are you all right?

Oh, he's coming!

- You sorry, pussy-whipped son of a bitch.

Look at you!

- [Vix] You no-good shit!

- Relax!

- Haven't you done enough already?

- Harry!

- Get out of here.

- Shut up!

(Vix screaming)

- Oh, Clint.

- Nobody, nobody fucks up my race!

From now on, l'm gonna personally ride

this son of a bitch home myself!

(ominous music)

This is who you're damn hot for?

Have at it!

- [Vix] Leave us alone, Harry.

- ll'even open the dress for you.

(Vix screaming)

(fabric ripping)

- Oh, God.

Please don't.

(dire orchestral music)

Don't!

(dire orchestral music)

Just leave us alone, Harry.

Wake up!

Wake up, please!

(fuse burning)

Please wake up!

(fuse burning)

Please wake up. Please, Clint.

(Vix whimpering)

(Vix babbling)

(Vix babbling)

- God damn.

Polack dynamite.

Ain't never gonna use that stuff again.

- Harry, whatever you try fails.

However you hurt us, Harry, you won't succeed.

You are evil.

We're love, love, love, love, love!

(fuse burning)

(dynamite exploding)

Leapin' lizards!

(dramatic orchestral music)

That's all, folks.

(sexual moaning)

(Vix laughing)

(Vix laughing)

- lm coming, coming. (screaming)

(bluegrass music)

D In the sweet by and by D

} We shall meet on that beautiful shore D

D In the sweet by and by D

} We shall meet on that beautiful shore D

(orchestral finale)