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Where is she?

-What the fuck do you care? -I do. I do care.

Is she alive?

You want to know where she is Cruz?

You want to know how she is?

Then start talking, and I mean everything,

every last fucking detail.

-I can't see. I need a doctor. -You'll get one, Ned.

As soon as you tell us what-the-fuck and why for.

I think he's faking. You don't just go blind.

I think the mother fucker's faking.

No. I've heard of this.

Head trauma.

You'll see again,

just in time to look the judge in the eye when he sentences you.

Sentences me?

-For what? -Take your pick.

You left quite a trail, Ned.

-Five dead. -Five?

-Yeah, five. -Maybe I have to see a...

A lawyer. What the fuck do you need a lawyer for?

-You're not under arrest Ned. -So why the cuffs?

Why won't you tell me where she is, if she is all right?

Because I'm the law Cruz.

I ask the questions. You answer them.

My client...

-is he alive? -Jesus.

You really don't know?

pullshit. He's playing us. I can fucking hear him thinking.

If we let him get away with this, we're gonna be here all night.

We don't want you to think Cruz. All right?

We don't want you to ask questions.

We just want you to respond... Like a reflex.

With the truth, compadre

I'm a human lie detector.

If you don't tell me the truth, I'll beat it out of you.

-And I'll love every minute of it. -All right. All right.

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

I got you.

Okay.

Go ahead. Entertain us.

You were there the night it started.

-Tell us anYway. -Yeah.

He's doing it again. You wily fuckin' duke.

Quit thinkin'. Quit stallin'.

-Can we do this my way? -Yeah, okay Poley.

But tell Frizer to get downwind.

His aftershave is killing me.

-Skeres. -Yeah?

Do you like Adam Nova?

-The actor? -Yeah.

He's all right.

I guess he makes an honest buck.

Try twenty million per picture. And 20º/º chunk of the back-end.

One of the highest paid movie stars in history.

And I have to tell him...

that it's ail over.

Shortly after Nova's very pubiic feud with a certain studio mogui,

the mogui pays some low-rent private eye...

to get the dirt on Nova...

and leak it to a tabioid website.

Nova hires me to find out what dirt...

that tabloid website is going to expose.

what's the 411 on Adam Nova?

what do the flashbuib-guys have on me this time?

I'm fuckin' terrified.

We've all got kinks.

Contrary to what science teils us,

all DNA does not... twist the same.

Here.

Well Adam, are you gonna open it or what?

Adam Nova's side-kink is an albino littie person...

named Russeil.

And the two of them have made a habit...

of mixing Viagra with methamphetamines...

and doing the double dolphin with a d-girl or a groupie...

for 48 hours straight.

Fuck!

What is it buddy?

-This is your fucking fault! -Let me fuckin' see!

Now wait for me, you sick littie fuckin' pervert.

Nova is finished.

Once this sort of thing gets anywhere near the internet,

it's moving at the speed of light.

I suppose you want to get paid.

Okay.

Wait here.

I'il be right back.

Adam. Wait a minute"! Let me see the fucking pictures.

Get off my ass!

Yeah.

No matter what it is, I can fix this.

We've all got kinks and...

-Adam! -built-in closets where they hide.

And there is always the fear that someday...

-someone waiks into your closet... -Adam!

and switches on the light and there in the corner...

is your kink.

And the most terribie fear of aii...

is the fear of being exposed.

You want to explain this?

Is that aftershave or coiogne?

What? Aftershave.

-Whoa. -Fuck you.

why is it when weird shit happens...

it's aiways stuck to the bottom of your shoe?

So who's the crispy midget?

-It's astrophysics, Frizer. -Astrophysics?

His name is Russeil.

He's a white dwarf gone supernova.

It's two a.m.

I am sick of Los Angeles,

sick of bearing witness to human tragedy...

and sick of Frizer's shitty aftershave.

I'm too jacked up to go home,

so I go back to the office to hate myself.

Maybe it's my favorite jacket...

ruined forever,

but ali of a sudden...

I don't iike what I do for a living.

I shouid go home.

I shouid climb into the tub and puii the water up over my head.

But all I can do is return to the scene of my own crime.

-You are a private eye. -Yeah.

I used to be a private H.

Maybe one day I'll be a G-man.

I'm just working my way around the aiphabet.

Blah. Biah. Blah.

I want you should find somebody.

You have a specific person in mind, or will just anybody do?

My name is Anton.

-They call me "The Pro". -Okay, Anton, listen.

Today treated me like a dog treats a fire hydrant.

You know I'm closed for business. Really, please...

Her name is Lexie. Lexie Persimmon.

She is my girl.

And wherever she is I'm sure she's snug in bed and dreaming...

about bungee jumping off your forehead, you know?

I mean it would be a shame to wake her...

Wake her up...

Fuck.

Ail right, what's the punch line?

-What is meaning of punch line here? -This is your girifriend?

Da.

She wrote to me.

I wrote her back.

Every Wednesday for five whoie years.

Wow.

You must have had a jumbo box of crayons.

put there is nothing, no house at her return address.

Hold on.

Where did you do your time, pinto?

what were you in for?

I mean no stamps, no postmarks.

The Federai Bureau of Prisons requires that ietters to prisoners...

are sent in unsealed envelopes.

See?

I been doing life at Lompoc.

But they let me go, let me out.

-Reaiiy? -And now I've got to find her.

put she ain't dancing at Minkowski's no more.

So c'mon.

We go to Minkowski's and maybe they wili tell you something.

If I write you a letter and sprinkle it with Chanel No. 5,

wouid you believe me when I teil you that I am done for the day?

This is it, where she worked.

Ask him.

Don't bother, vato I told him already.

I never seen her before. I don't know who she is.

How many bouncers do you figure it wouid take?

-who the fuck are you? -Yeah.

where is Minkowski?

Where do you go when you die?

Here.

-Now how is it working for you? -what the fuck man?!

Answering questions with questions.

Now do you want to bring that item up into plain sight and slowly?

-You gonna let me go? -There you go again.

Okay. Okay.

Hey!

what the fuck?"

-You know Lexie Persimmon? -Oh, shit.

Hey, asshole!

A right hook, like a freight train coming around a corner.

And it ali comes back to me.

A decade ago everyone had heard of Anton "The Pro" Protopov.

Hey! Hey" Let's get out of here. C'mon.

He was 18-0 when he threw a fight,

took a dive for a price.

Excuse me. Oh, shit.

"Skinny Faddeev," the boss of the Russian mob in LA.

-Don't be an asshole. -We know who Feddeev is,

was.

Of course you do.

So you know he was grooming his own nephew...

to be the next heavy-weight contender.

And you know he offered Anton "The Pro" Protopov...

30 million up front to take a fail in the third round...

of his nephew's exhibition match.

put Anton "The Pro" was well unclear on the concept.

Because if you crush your opponent's skull...

then go down for the count,

nobody buys it.

It's stupid.

Anton "The Pro's" boxing career is over.

Hey" Hey! Hey! Car is over there.

You got pictures. You got ietters. Find her.

You know I'll do better without your help anYway.

Da.

Sometimes, I dunno, I just...

React. Right?

-How do I find you? -Nyet. I find you.

"Skinny" Faddeev's nephew dies...

of a fractured skuli and a bleeding brain...

-in less than a week. -I saw that fight.

I saw Anton "The Pro" take that phony fuckin' dive.

Yeah. Outside of a mirror,

I bet it's the dumbest thing you've ever seen.

-What the fuck are you iaughing at? -Don't answer that.

Faddeev,

-what about Faddeev? -Right.

"Skinny" Faddeev ruins the career of an 18-0 heavyweight,

gets his own nephew kiiied and loses a cool 30 million.

And one other thing.

He does it ali without letting the mob in Las Vegas in...

on the fix.

But instead of taking the biame for such a colossal ciusterfuck,

and trying to make peace with the Vegas boys,

"Skinny" Faddeev decides that he has a score to settie...

with Anton "The Pro" Protopov.

Three days later...

they find "Skinny" Faddeev in the kitchen at Prostranstva.

And it's hard to teil the difference...

between the former mobster and the borscht.

It is the same borscht...

mixed with "Skinny" Faddeev's blood that you boys...

scouts find on Anton "The Pro" Protopov's dirty iaundry...

at the Rooseveit Hotei.

He's comin' down the haii.

Freeze, motherfucker!

-Put the bottle down" -Put your hands up!

You were there. You were the arresting officers.

-Yeah, we were. -So what?

Don't get clever again.

The fuck's all this got to do with findin' the stripper?

What the fuck's a busted condom...

got to do with your birth certificate, Poley?

It's just cause and effect.

py the way, he'll hurt you.

And Skeres and me we'li just iook the other way.

Skeres and I.

Skeres and I will look the other way.

You think you're better than me. Don't you, Cruz?

No. You and I, we're just...

migrant workers in the land of opportunity.

Right, Frizer?

But I'm the one with the badge.

I'm gonna ask you one more time.

Tell us everything you did, everything you know.

-And teli us now. -Or else what?

Poiey's gonna hit me? Maybe I'll get my sight back.

Anything to help. Shit"

The faster you draw us a map, the faster you get outta here,

-see a doctor. -No, no.

I don't care about that.

Just teil me she's ail right. Teil me she is alive.

No.

You first.

All right.

Anton "The Pro" Protopov is sentencing to life in prison...

for the murder of "Skinny" Faddeev.

Suddeniy, after serving five years of a life sentence without paroie,

he's back on the street, a free man.

So somebody else confessed to the crime.

Yeah. A Vegas hitman...

already serving 300 years for murder,

rape, kidnapping, and arson...

claims he kiiied Faddeev because Faddeev had no business...

trying to fix a Vegas fight game!

Now this convict claims that Anton "The Pro" was framed...

with blood and borscht"

-So what? -So what?!

Do you really believe that?

Enough of the mob shit. Get to the girl.

Well, if you don't understand the mob angle,

then it won't make any sense...

when I get to the part about the diamonds.

What diamonds?

Where was I?

A 7-foot, 300 pound lifer...

is sprung from prison and aii he's iooking for is his giri.

How romantic is that?

And cut. Reset. who's next?

So you the greaser that ape to my club, huh?

-Oh, you heard about that? -Yeah, I fuckin' heard about it.

-How'd you find me? -I looked under the rug.

So you askin' to get fucked up?

The fact that your entire legal name is "Puss" was a surprise.

Then "Main Coon Productions" popped up.

And here I am at Schrodinger's warehouse...

-watching an artist at work. -You iike that, bitch?

-I ain't never seen this bitch. -Fair enough.

So iisten, Herman Minkowski died four years ago.

You bought the joint a year later.

Who soid it to you?

His widow. Stripper.

Actress. Tweaker.

All right! Cum for chrissakes!

What are you staging?

What is the plot?

Weli, the guy she's fuckin',

he keeps changing into another guy.

The point being they're reaily all the same.

You just don't know where they disappear to.

It's iike they go in.

They never come out.

-peautiful. -And... cut.

So Minkowski's widow, she got a name?

Yeah. Zooey. Zooey Wigner.

You're making a cameo?

Hitchcock did it.

Siate it.

Lights. Camera.

Action. Motherfuckers!

It takes about 30 minutes online to find Zooey Wigner.

Slow down.

You claim that was the iast time you saw Puss.

Claim? Yeah.

Really? So...

it would surprise you to learn...

that when Schrodinger's warehouse was opened the next morning,

Puss was stili there.

Why? Why would that surprise me? Why?

It wouldn't...

if it were you or your client that broke his fuckin' back.

That is one weli-hung negro.

It'd take a pretty big motherfucker to do that kind of damage...

and hoist him up there, might even take two.

-What the fuck are you taiking about? -Zooey wigner.

Tell us about Zooey wigner.

I don't' find her at any of the taient agencies.

She isn't iisted as the ciient of any manager.

I find her on a UCLA Medical Center website.

Zooey wigner's meth addiction...

has burned through the capitai gains...

from her dead husband's strip club.

The only acting job she can get...

is to act like a patient with a medical condition...

for interns to test their diagnostic skilis.

Fridays, she's got autophagia,

a disorder causing people to eat themselves...

on account of severe sexual anxiety.

That's a really fucked up job. But...

it keeps me in rehab...

and a shithole basement apartment in El Segundo.

Yeah.

Take a look at this.

You know...

she does kinda look iike someone that worked at the club...

a while ago.

I dunno.

Do you remember her name?

No. No. No.

No. That's not it. I just...

I don't really remember much from back then.

You know what, take it.

You're an actress. A professionai.

Your time is valuable. Meaningful. Take it.

Meaningful?

I am pretending to eat myself.

Where's the meaning in that?

Doctor Fred, piease call reception.

Thank you.

Wait.

Juies maybe.

Or just Juiie... I think.

The Oroborus. It's what Plato described...

as the first iiving thing in the universe.

An immortal, perfect creature.

A serpent eating itself swaiiowing its own tail.

Everything has meaning.

That's sweet. I'll bet you made her feei better.

So I suppose you never went to zooey Wigner's apartment...

-that night? -No.

what's not going to surprise me this time?

Yesterday Zooey Wigner...

with the left side of her head caved in...

fioating face up...

in that shithole basement apartment.

Floating?

Somebody must have left the water running in her tub.

But you didn't go there,

and I suppose neither did Anton.

No. I went to Kepler's.

So what's tickin' do-right man?

-who broke your doil? -I'm fine.

You're killin' me with your sad pan.

I'm thinking of becoming a teievangelist.

This business blows.

-Like a Santa Ana wind, daddy-o. -Yeah.

So what is it this time?

I am iooking for someone who's supposed to exist...

but nobody has seen.

-Oh, that again. -Yeah.

You're always iooking for that.

The uitimate missing person. The theoretical other.

The soul mate.

This isn't about me or what I want.

-Sure it is. -No. It's for a client.

It's a job.

-Okay. -I've picked up a tail.

It could be my ciient or it couid be somebody else altogether.

So you think you're slated for crashville?

Nothing but skid marks and red asphait.

I dig it, mi'ijo. Just remember:

iove iooks not with the eyes, but with the mind.

Cupid is biind.

Yeah.

what the fuck was that about?

Love and...

longing.

He knew what was going to happen.

He always knows.

Holy shit. He's doing it again.

-Cruz, what you taikin' about? -Jazz.

Sex.

Your heartbeat.

Soul.

Skeres,

-you're a married man, right? -Divorced.

You stili remember love, right?

I got kids in coilege and aiimony to pay.

I don't have time for a fuckin' love story.

I'm sorry.

Close your eyes.

And I wiil show you my secret self.

You can iove me...

without shame...

or fear.

Your search ends with me.

I am the missing person...

of your heart.

Your one...

true love.

Anton is right.

There is nothing at the Laveta Terrace return address.

Wherever she's writing from,

Lexie Persimmon is a stripper in hiding.

Excuse me?"

Lady! Lady!

-Excuse me? -What you say, metchang?

Just a second, a second. A second.

Until recently, a ietter has come to this vacant lot every week.

It would be forwarded by the mail carrier...

to whoever submitted a change of address form.

Okay. So?

I'm U.S. Postal empioyee. I don't take bribes.

Oh, no no no no. Don't take the money.

But please help me.

I need this address. It's quite important.

-General delivery. San Celeritas. -What was that?

San Celeritas, New Mexico. Okay?

Thank you. I appreciate it. Thank you.

I go back to the office...

to grab a couple of shirts and some ciean underwear.

That's when I reaiize...

that it isn't my client who is taiiing me.

Anton "The Pro" has no reason...

to toss my office.

So someone must have been foliowing him...

when he first came to see me.

He had a duffel bag when he came in...

but not when he left.

So, they either want to know what's in the bag...

or they know about the letters and want to get their hands on them.

Oh, yeah? Why?

I didn't know, Poley.

I hadn't quite read them all yet.

San Celeritas, New Mexico...

is a ghost town in the Land of Enchantment.

Wait a minute.

So Anton and this stripper,

she'd never even met him, but she's writing him letters?

-Yeah. -This is fucking stupid.

How long do we gotta listen to this shit?

Well I don't know how to answer that...

because space and time are relative, Poley.

You know time slows down as you approach the speed of light.

Things get shorter, more dense.

The faster you travel,

the slower and even dumber you will appear.

-Oh God, that's so funny. -Yeah, well...

it's just the Laws of Physics, Poley.

You know what you are?

You think you're a think-you're-smart guy.

I hate think-you're-smart guys.

I hate them more than think-you're-tough guys.

You're one of them too, aren't you? Huh?

Stay on track.

I know you're fucking with us.

Remember, I can read your mind.

You fucking liar.

You couldn't read a picture book.

What? what'd you say? What?

What'd you say?

You know Poley, I know you're gonna hit me.

put listen to this. You hurt me, you hurt me too bad,

you will never find out where the diamonds are.

What diamonds?

Okay. Okay. Okay.

I'm on my way to New Mexico.

And I am moving very fast.

Lexie Persimmon is as good as found.

She'll be in San Celeritas...

where her mail is forwarded.

I choose to drive, clear my head,

think about quiting this shit business,

settling down, with something real.

But it's no good.

I keep wondering why "Skinny" Faddeev...

would pay Anton 30 million up front.

And where is the money now?

And why is a stripper...

who is God's own wet dream...

choose to be pen pals...

with Darwin's worst nightmare?

I can't stop thinking about her,

the woman in the photograph.

I tell myself that I'll find Lexie Persimmon...

if that really is her name.

Tell her that King Kong is looking for her.

And that will be the end of it.

But I don't believe it.

Not for a second.

Wow. You totally don't belong here.

-where is here? -Around people like this.

Red auras, material, physical.

plue, reverence.

And mostly yellow.

Intellectual.

You're grey. You are so conflicted.

put you've also got this purple/red spiritual vibe.

It's extremely rare on this Earth, but...

there's something so dark about you.

Is there anything else to see around here?

No.

I mean not really.

It's just it's an old Air Force base, was shut down in 1962.

And we used to test to V-2 rockets that we captured...

from the Germans here.

And then Kestral bought it, so...

-Simon Kestral? -Oh yeah.

Simon the reclusive, gazillionaire, fucking visionary Kestral.

And no, I've never actually seen him.

put he bought San Celeritas...

and everything underneath it.

There's these tunnels.

Some people say they run all the way to Dulce...

where there's supposed to be this secret underground military base...

filled with extraterrestrials.

put you don't believe that.

No.

And you can't go down there anYway on account of the collider, so.

The collider?

The particle accelerator that Kestral's built.

So God, I'm sorry. Do you want breakfast?

Yeah. Yeah.

Where can I find her?

I dunno man.

But I knew you didn't belong here.

Do you recognize her?

-May I please? Ketchup? -Sure.

Sorry.

Do you know this woman?

Sat Sri Akal.

He's a Sikh. It means God is...

-true and timeless. -True and timeless.

Okay, that's really cool that you know that.

-So you, you own this place? -No, I just work here.

-Who is the postmaster? -Guy that owns the place.

Steak und eier sind fertig!

Order's up. I gotta go.

Alright.

-Hey, hey. -I, shit, sorry.

when do you get off?

About fourteen minutes after I start fucking.

Wow.

What is all of this?

These are the spiral trails...

left by subatomic particles...

moving through liquid hydrogen...

in the presence of a magnetic field.

You know, I thought they looked familiar.

You gotta understand...

everything behaves like a particle and a wave at the same time.

And until something is actually observed,

it exists in multiple states of reality...

simultaneously.

The moment you actually observe anything...

anywhere in the universe, you change it.

And if that thing is entangled in a relationship with anything else,

it changes too.

Instantly.

And that's faster than the speed of light.

But you know what?

Nothing's faster than the speed of light.

It's real life magic.

An atom.

It's made up of electrons and protons and neutrons.

And protons and neutrons are made up of quarks.

And quarks are held together by gluons.

And the gluons are bosons.

And the bosons are the elementary particles...

that carry the fundamental forces of nature.

So, you're here because...

pecause in two days, just 300 feet underground,

two proton beams are going to collide with each other...

at nearly the speed of light.

Nothing is faster.

And they might find it...

right here in the middle of the desert.

Find what?

It.

The God particle.

And you're here because...

Because...

I'm looking for someone who's supposed to exist,

but nobody has seen.

-In the middle of the desert. -Yeah.

And someone is following me, but I don't know who.

Honest?

Yeah.

So tell me,

how does the mail service work here?

The mail service?

It doesn't.

People just use priority mail and email.

Regular mail just goes in a basket.

People come in and collect what's theirs.

Then I tell her everything I know.

About the 260 letters.

And the lonely stripper and washed-up boxer...

who became pen pals.

About the beautiful woman...

who found a way to share...

her deepest passions, her kinks,

without fear of consequences...

because she chose to give her love...

to a man who would never get out of prison.

Get out! Fuck you!

Until, all of a sudden...

he did.

And by that time, the boxer was well...

he was in...

Bullshit.

-Bullshit. -I'm sorry, Poley.

Anton "The Pro" never expected to see the light of day.

That's why he told her where to find the diamonds.

-Yeah. The diamonds. -That's right.

And Lexie Persimmon never expected Anton "The Pro" Protopov...

-to come looking for her. -Okay, Ned.

This is where you need to be very very specific.

-we don't have a lot of time. -why?

pecause, smart ass, it's gonna be morning soon,

and if you want our help explaining to the local law enforcement...

-how everything went sideways... -You're gonna need every detail.

Every last fucking detail, yes.

Tick. Period. Tock.

-Is just... -Period.

-Oh, Poley, man. -Ned,

why'd you chose to share your investigation with this waitress?

I needed the user name and the password for the café's account...

with Arbitrum Incorporated.

Every week,

Lexie Persimmon retrieved a letter from the basket...

at Planck's Constant.

And she sent a letter in an unsealed envelope...

by priority mail.

Since Fay had never seen Lexie Persimmon,

she probably did it after hours.

The only witness to this weekly event...

was the digital DVR camera in the Arbitrum ATM.

Why was it so fucking important to see her getting her mail?

Because I...

I was starting to wonder...

if Lexie Persimmon even existed...

outside of her letters.

Fuck.

Shit.

Simon Kestral is surfing,

stoned, off Papara Beach, Tahiti...

when he has an idea that revolutionizes...

microchip technology.

At age 60, he's the 12th richest man in the world...

and a total recluse.

Fuck!

Shit, man!

You know these guys are Sikhs.

They work for one of the largest security firms in the country.

We're talking government and private sector.

Why?

Because they view self-defense and protection of the defenseless...

as duties of the highest honor.

But they're very fucking literal, you know.

Oh, yeah.

put I ask them to bring you to see me,

-so they bring you to see me. -Yeah.

I'm Simon Kestral.

And this is where I do not offer my hand...

because, according to the tabloids,

I'm such a freak I don't touch other people.

put that's a tissue of lies.

Go ahead.

Look, I'm sorry you're here without your shirt...

and you got a little boo-boo.

But what the fuck, Chuck?

I'll make it up to you.

You're gonna start right now.

No.

You're in an eight mile long circular tunnel...

300 feet below San Celeritas.

And 27 hours from now,

eight magnet assemblies storing ten gigajoules of energy...

will guide two proton beams fired simultaneously...

in a semi-circular path toward each other...

at 99.999 percent of the speed of light,

and they'll collide right in there.

To recreate conditions last seen...

a trillionth of a second after The Big Bang,

the beginning of the universe,

13 billion years ago.

Questions? Preguntas?

what-the-fuck-for comes to mind.

put I know you're gonna tell me because you can't resist. Right?

27 hours I'm gonna find something that...

theoretically should exist but no one has ever seen.

Funny. That is exactly what I am looking for.

-You know why? -Because I am a private detective,

and I've been hired to.

pecause I already know why we're here.

I knew it the first time I dropped acid.

Really? When was the last time?

We are sentient beings...

evolving in an infinite universe.

And the infinite extrapolation of our evolution...

is to become gods ourselves.

You dig?

Now, along the way,

we must learn the secret of His magic wand.

Sure.

If everything there is, from all the heavenly bodies...

in all the galaxies of a still expanding universe,

to you and me, was once smaller than a single atom,

where did all that mass and matter come from?

Don't tell me, the God Particle.

-Fuckin' A. -Yes.

And at 7 a.m. tomorrow morning...

with five billion dollars worth of off-the-shelf technology,

I'm gonna answer the greatest question of all time.

why do men have nipples?

You're a philistine.

The reason we are here is to find out how we are here.

what is the trick? What is the divine mechanism...

that gives form and substance to all things?

Any other question's a waste of fuckin' time!

This is the only worthwhile pursuit in the universe, bro.

I'm looking for a woman.

You're living your life in vain, hombre

Coming to my town at the eleventh hour,

asking insignificant questions of a personal nature,

what's the point?

Love.

Yeah.

That got to him.

I am back on the Dharma Security bus...

with an invitation to dinner that night at Kestral's house.

He told me there is somebody that he wants me to meet.

I need sleep.

I need the username and password...

to the ATM digital cam.

But I can't help it.

I've got a bag full of a beautiful woman's private thoughts,

her unselfconscious desires.

"I was the one you dreamed of...

when you were a boy becoming a man."

"I was made for you and you alone."

"We are entangled, you and I..."

"...in our own universe. Forever.

Lexie Persimmon."

"P.S...."

"I did as you asked.

They were exactly where you told me that they would be.

And they're safe, back in the earth where they belong."

"pecause I have no use for material wealth.

I have you..."

"for the rest of my life".

Where is she?

-How the fuck did you get in here? -You find her?

What are you doing here? Is she in here?

Shut the fuck up for a second!

-You are being followed. -I know that.

-What is this place? -The land of fucking make-believe.

Stick around. They'll make you mayor.

-what the fuck is this? -You know what it is.

No.

what was exactly where you told her it would be?

-Ice. -What?

All the bling "Skinny" give me.

What diamonds, Frizer? Those diamonds.

The ones "Skinny" Faddeev gave Anton "The Pro"...

-to throw that prize fight. -Wait. Slow down.

No. Don't play dumb, Poley. You don't have to.

Anton thought he was never getting out of prison,

and he was in love with his pen pal.

So he told his girl where to find them.

That's right.

-Where? -Where?

In the closet.

-What closet? -In Anton's room.

At the Roosevelt Hotel.

30 millions dollars worth of conflict diamonds...

-hidden in the ceiling fixture. -He's coming down the hall.

-Conflict diamonds? -Well, yeah.

You know, it always bothered me...

that Faddeev paid Anton up front...

to throw the fight.

But if Faddeev thought he was dumping something...

hard to sell on the open market...

like a couple handfuls of non-certified blood diamonds?

Anton wouldn't know the difference.

put Faddeev would still want them back,

especially after Anton killed his nephew...

and fucked up the fight.

You think too much.

Compared to you, Poley, so does asparagus.

See that's my fuckin' vegetable.

Oh, fuck.

-Not yet" -God Dammit! Stop it!

-Stop it! Let him go! -Knock if off.

What is it about what the fuck we're doing here...

that you don't understand?"

-You don't get to touch me. -I can fucking touch you.

Get out.

Violent. So violent.

-Diamonds, Ned. -Yeah, well...

where are the diamonds now?

"Back in the earth where they belong."

-What, what does that mean? -She buried them?

Hey. Hey. I'm coming to that. All right?

First, I have to explain to Anton...

that I haven't found Lexie Persimmon.

Then I have to find out...

if he knows who is on my tail.

Maybe Bratva.

Mafiya.

They follow me. Now they follow you.

Why would the mob be following me?

I am thinking on that.

I am thinking on account of ice.

Diamonds. Why?

pecause I did kill "Skinny" Faddeev.

Okay. So you did.

Da.

He want his jewels back after I fuck up.

I did not mean to kill his nephew.

I feel bad. put "Skinny,"

he get in my face.

I did not mean to kill him, neither,

but I did.

Sometimes, I dunno, I just...

React. I know.

When other convict confess of killing "Skinny" Faddeev,

I am confused...

because I know I'm one who did it.

put now I'm thinking... mob.

They want me out of prison so I can lead them to diamonds.

Anton, you're a genius.

put now...

I have to protect my Lexie.

Well, I've got to find her first.

She...

she has diamonds.

And you,

if you find her, all you do is lead them to her.

It's late when I get the call from Fay...

and I access the Arbitrum ATM website.

I start scanning through the ATM's DVR,

looking for a pattern,

someone retrieving a letter and sending one...

by priority mail.

Lexie Persimmon stopped writing eight weeks ago,

so only the first four weeks of the twelve...

available on the server were relevant.

Any minute the Dharma Security van's...

going to pull up and drag me to dinner.

And then I see it.

All of a sudden my search is over.

I'd found who I was looking for.

Detective, I'd like you to meet my wife.

Julie...

meet Ned Cruz.

A real-life private eye.

This anything but righteous man has dedicated his time on Earth...

to inserting himself into other peoples' unexamined lives.

-Hello. -Hello.

He's a remora, a suckerfish...

that attaches itself to the underbelly of a big fat city...

and feeds off of its leftovers and parasites.

He's from L.A.,

the home of your distinguished stage career.

He's brought an artifact from your past...

all the way to San Celeritas.

I'm gonna shame him. It'll be fun.

Are you a suckerfish, Mr. Cruz?

No.

Then why would you let my husband...

-say such ugly things? -They're just words.

Are words important to you?

-when they hurt. -Ouch.

That' fucking profound.

Detatch yourself, detective

Dr. Niels Geck.

Ph.D. at MIT, age 13.

Rhodes Scholar, age 16.

Professor, Dept of Theoretical Physics, University of Geneva,

age 20.

Chief physicist of the San Celeritas' particle collider.

He's blessed with a neurological disorder.

He sees words and numbers as...

shapes and colors.

It's called synesthesia.

It's like being born on acid.

So he has a very rich inner life.

I envy him above all others.

He's gonna teach you a lesson.

Niels?

-Let's eat. -Okay.

Once upon a time,

we believed we lived in a clockwork universe...

goverened by Newtonian mechanics,

cause and effect.

Newton was elegant, yes,

but then the Uncertainty Principle came along and changed everything.

An electron can be two different things...

and in two different places at the same time.

So cause and effect is ridiculous. It's ludicrous.

You cannot predict with any certainty...

what will happen next.

-Tell me about the God Particle. -Okay.

Well when the universe was created...

Thank you.

There was an unequal amount of matter and antimatter,

and they should have annihilated each other,

leaving nothing but empty space...

cuz there's just no explaining for how the universe acquired mass.

There's no explanation at all for how we are here...

in a physical sense.

Unless...

unless there is some special mysterious particle...

that actually gives mass to... Well everything.

And in some sense, such a particle must exist,

but we've never seen it.

It's like love.

We know it exists. We can feel it.

But we've never seen it.

So what happens tomorrow?

We'll recreate the conditions...

that existed one trillionth of a second after the pig pang.

Protons will head toward collisions at nearly the speed of light.

Their quarks and their gluons will release enough energy...

to create the Higgs Boson Particle.

The God Particle.

It's unstable. It's fragile.

And it will last for less than one millionth...

of a billionth of a billionth of a second...

before it decays.

put we'll have seen it for the first time in history.

-Questions? -Yeah.

The woman who is serving us,

she's Hindu. She's dressed in white. She's mourning.

-Why? -Her name's Prabha, and...

her husband died down there.

There've been a lot of accidents.

He was an engineer, and he made a mistake.

-There've been a lot of mistakes. -A lot?

-Compared to what? -He was trapped.

Pinned under the weight of something much larger than he was.

-It crushed his ribcage. -Yeah. proke his heart.

-It was his own damn fault. -His fault?

You bet.

Because the only errors are human errors.

He made the wrong choice.

Unfortunately, he didn't live to regret it.

Unlike my oh so lonely wife...

who made some very bad choices a long time ago.

Please...

And that's why you're here, isn't it?

Let me guess... somebody's looking for her.

Maybe it's just me.

So what is the worst that can happen...

with a couple of billion worth of off-the-shelf technology...

bolted together by imperfect human beings,

hecho en Nuevo Mexico?

-A black hole. -What was that?

A black hole.

Theoretically, collisions with this much energy...

could create a black hole that could swallow the earth...

or create strangelets that could initiate runaway fusion and...

turn the planet into a shrunken lump of strange matter.

We've got nothing to worry about.

You have arrived here at the penultimate moment...

of the ultimate spiritual pursuit.

pecause God is the Wizard of Oz.

He's the man behind the curtain.

And tomorrow, I'm yanking back that curtain.

Yeah. So I,

I should take my business...

roll away like a little ball of shit in a pre-natal position...

because whatever concerns her is inconsequential...

compared to whatever you think is gonna happen...

when you flip that switch tomorrow. Right?

The point, you insignificant asshole,

is that showing up here...

seeking to stir up shit about me,

-is cosmically fucked up! -You are fucked up!

You are the guy at the magic show,

the one who can't live not knowing how the trick is done.

And all you're gonna do is ruin it for the rest of us!

I think you two need to go away.

Do your business.

Talk, fuck, whatever.

py 7 a.m. tomorrow, I'm gonna be on stage...

standing next to God...

and looking right up His sleeve.

So,

what do you think is gonna happen at 7 a.m. tomorrow?

well there are hidden variables,

so it's difficult to predict the outcome, but...

I think, one way or another, at 7 a.m. tomorrow,

Simon Kestral will be close to God.

So Geck goes home,

and Kestral goes down to the collider...

to do whatever the fuck he has to do...

with only eight hours to go before showtime.

And Julie and I,

we go for a walk.

So,

did you really come here for me?

Yes. Yes.

-I'm what you're looking for? -Yeah.

How do you know?

You are exactly what I am looking for.

How do I know you're not...

like every man I've ever met?

You know you look at me, you see what you want to see.

I've got to stop defining myself...

by how men see me.

You've got father issues, right?

Yeah.

I stripped for him, too.

-And your husband? -You know it's more of the same.

I'm nothing but a metaphor to him,

like a trophy, a symbol of what he's looking for,

-what we're all looking for. -What?

You know.

You just you don't know that you know.

We're standing above it right now.

The collider.

The place where his beams collide. I mean he's insane.

It's all gonna blow up in his face.

You know, we've got a bigger problem here.

Kiss me.

No. Not yet.

Listen. He's here.

-who? -Anton "The Pro" is here.

-Protopov. -What?

Oh my God. All right. Listen.

I can help you.

put you've got to come clean.

So tell me. Was it random? Did you do it 'cause you were lonely?

Did you write to him because you read in the paper...

about a boxer who was going to spend the rest of his life in prison...

and might be worth 30 million dollars?

Wait. I don't know what you're talking about.

30 million dollars is a lot of lifestyle to which...

-you have become accustomed. -Stop.

Okay, you're just confusing me.

Where did you get this?

-I buried all of these. -Buried them?

My headshots, everything from back them, right here.

Listen. You're not making any sense you know.

why the accomplice? why Geck?

No. Don't deny it. I've seen him. He was recorded at the café.

Why did you use Niels Geck to pick up your mail...

-and send your letters? -What letters?

-Okay. -Wait. Let me see that.

Who is Lexie Persimmon?

Jesus.

Lexie"

Shit.

Who...?

What the hell is that?

You really don't know?

Come on.

-You gotta to run. Go there" There" -Wait"

Go there! Now" Now" Go!

Dammit.

Anton, wait! Listen to me"

It's not her! She's not Lexie Persimmon"

Who's gonna stop me?!

You wanna try, tough guy?! Shoot me!

I can't.

You're my client.

Lexie"

C'mon.

Such a cliché. C'mon.

C'mon.

It's unlocked.

What the fuck is going on?

-Where are we? -This is Niels' house.

Geck? No, hold on.

Who would know you danced at Minkowski's?

-Who would have your photograph? -He would.

-Geck went to a stripclub? -Yeah.

He brought my husband one night. Niels introduced us.

Oh shit.

Lexie!

Who is that?

A guy who thinks you are the woman of his dreams.

What?

-All right, let's go. -Lexie!

Niels?

Lex Parsimoniae?

What does it mean?

Well it is the Latin expression for a philosophical concept...

known as Occam's Razor.

In language that Poley can understand,

it means "all things being equal,

the simplest solution is the best."

Now in this case, it just means that...

a lonely physicist starts a five-year long...

paper-sex relationship...

with a convicted killer doing life at Lompoc.

You know it is safe. Perfect.

The killer gets love,

and the physicist gets treated like the woman he pretends to be,

late at night, in the privacy of his home,

his kink hidden, and with no fear...

of being exposed.

It means that Niels Geck...

is Lex Parsimoniae.

Lexie Persimmon.

So you wrote the letters. Right?

What letters?

-You read them? -Yeah.

I don't understand. What?

Oh my God.

So you knew he was coming for you.

You had to know. His last letter,

he must have told you he was getting out. Right?

Yes, of course. I calculated the wave function.

The likelihood that I would be where he was looking for me.

Wait a minute. What?

Did I do something wrong?

Where are the diamonds?

-Lexie! -Shut that.

Oh my. Oh my God!

You. Come in here. Come in here.

-what about... -Don't make a sound.

Oh my God.

All right! Anton" Stop" Enough"

Hello Anton.

Niels Geck calculated the probability...

that Anton Protopov would find him.

Lexie?

And based on his result, he bought himself a gun.

Yes.

You do not look like self.

I am.

You are not my Lexie. You are guy.

I'm both at the same time.

Could you please put the gun down please?

Just.

-You can love me. -What?" No"

-Where is she?! -I'm here.

-No! -I'm here.

Anton! Wait" wait!

No. Stop.

Nyet" Nyet! Nyet!

I love you.

Hey! Hey! Hey! Drop the gun!

Now! Now!

And that's it. That's all I remember.

Until I come to, and I can't see a fucking thing,

and you guys are here.

And I don't know who is alive or dead.

All I want... all I need to know is...

is Julie all right? That's it. That's it.

Good. Good boy.

Just one more thing.

Who was it? Who crashed the party?

well that's simple.

The guys who had been shadowing Anton then tailing me.

The guys in the Lincoln Town Car.

I can describe them.

One is a fucking sociopath...

who never finished first grade...

and who nobody likes.

Another is a broken-down family man...

with nothing, nothing to show for his life.

And the third guy wears brown shoes...

and a black suit...

because he can't tell the difference between right and wrong.

How could you tell? Thought you couldn't fuckin' see.

That's right, Poley. put you know what?

I didn't need to see to recognize...

Frizer's fucking aftershave. Yeah.

Nobody knew the story of Anton "The Pro" Protopov...

better than you guys.

Three Stooges. working homicide and organized crime...

for so long that you're no better than the bad guys.

-The bad guys. -The bad guys.

You know Anton was right.

He was sprung from prison by the mob...

with a phoney confession from a three-time loser...

so that he could lead them to 30 millions dollars worth...

of "Skinny" Faddeev's supidity" And you guys...

you guys are either working for the mob...

or you've stiff-armed them, pulled rank, called this one for your own!

But it was you guys. You guys all along!

All along.

It's funny.

Anton didn't give a shit about the diamonds.

put you guys sure as hell did.

Oh yeah.

Poley, go ahead.

Get up.

-Get him up, Poley. -You get him up.

We're out of fuckin' time here.

He'll get him up.

It's a dead fucking end.

He doesn't know where the diamonds are.

-Poley killed the only one who does. -Shut the fuck up.

-No! Fuck you, Poley! -What did you say?

We've got a huge fucking mess on our hands thanks to you.

And not time to clean it up. What the fuck are we doing here?

wait. wait. Who killed Puss?

-Your client did. -Why?

Guess he was following up on your so-called investigation...

and didn't like the African American's personality.

What about Zooey Wigner?

Anton couldn't have known where she lived.

You assholes,

you followed me to the Medical Center.

I leave, you go in, flash the badges,

find out who I was there to see. And then...

and then Poley,

Poley tails her home,

tries to milk her, and loses his little temper.

Poley. You did not.

-Yeah. -Aw shit, Poley.

-whatever. -You cannot clean this up.

You know there are too many loose ends. It's messy.

He's right. You know we got total chaos here.

This was a stupid idea" And you...

you are a fuckin' sociopath!

You will be sickly sorry if you make a move on me...

you gristly piece of shit!

Sorry.

What? What?

Really?

Stop them, Frizer. Before they kill again.

-I haven't killed anybody. -Not yet.

All right. Here's how it's gonna be.

Anton gets out of prison and partners with you...

to find this fucking Persimmon bitch who's got his diamonds.

Typically, you leave behind a path of death and destruction.

It's morning now,

any minute now somebody's gonna find a towel-head security guard...

with a broken neck over at Kestral's place.

Geck doesn't show up for work, they're gonna come looking for him.

They're gonna find the end of your trail.

Everybody dead in a real fucking bloodbath.

What is that?

The gun that brought down Anton "The Pro."

The one they'll find with your fingerprints on it.

Next to your corpse.

-You can't use that thing. -Unregistered.

See, I like my aftershave.

I like the color of my shoes.

And I like that at the end of the day, I beat you, Cruz.

I might not have the diamonds,

but you're gonna take the fall for my efforts.

And Poley is gonna use Geck's little 22 to kill your girlfriend.

Wait a minute. What?

Yeah. She's been here all along, smart guy.

Too bad you won't be able to see what's gonna happen to her.

Poley, wait.

Frizer, no.

-No? No? -No!

Skeres! You have a better idea?

Want to confess your part in this...

and go to prison?

Frankly...

I don't think your partners would let you.

Shit.

I know where the diamonds are.

Don't tell them. They're gonna kill us anyway.

Where are they?

-Make me a deal. -No.

-Then go and fuck yourself. -All right.

All right. All right. All right.

I know where they are.

I know where they are. put I can't see.

Julie knows too, but she doesn't know that she knows.

With my help, she can lead you right to them.

But if you kill her, nobody will be able to show you...

where Geck buried them.

It's your call, man. It's your call. It's your call.

Open the trunk.

Poley!

If you keep the car running,

maybe we could get a little air back here.

Dr. Geck is not answering his telephone.

Geck the geek. Fuck'm.

Detector hot?

All systems are a go, sir.

Tick-tock.

Go ahead.

The fuck do I look like?

You're an asshole, Frizer.

You've always been an asshole.

If they held a contest for the world's biggest asshole,

-you'd come in second. -Yeah?

-Why not first? -Cuz you're an asshole.

Five years to retirement.

-How the fuck did I end up here? -How?

Who gives a shit? Keep digging.

I give a shit simple mother fucker.

Maybe I want to take a minute and consider the metaphysics...

of a really bad fuckin' decision.

Yeah. Now's a great time for that.

-I fuckin' knew it. -Go!

Or maybe it's not how, you know. It's why!

Why!

why the fuck did I let you talk me into this?"

How about 30 million dollars worth?

Aw, shit. Aw, fuck.

Get the gun! Get the gun! Get the gun!

What the fuck is this?

what the fuck is that?

What's he doing?

Shit.

Get down"

Stay down"

Shit!

-You okay? -No. I dropped the gun.

Let's see what we're made of.

Aw, fuck!

Oh, God!

Shit.

-we have to turn! -I can't" I can't"

-Can't we go any faster?" -Fucking thing.

Dammit.

-It's coming right at us. -Shit.

Oh Christ.

You all right?

Okay.

Fuck it.

So were you really blind that whole time?

Well...

So you just smash things together and see what comes out?

Mas o menos,Yes. More or less.

I mean Newtonian mechanics is so 17th century.

Cause and effect are totally bogus.

And reality,

I mean reality is just a wave function.

It's all about likelihood. Nothing is certain.

I mean you solved everything. And you got the girl.

And I got a gecko.

And 30 million dollars worth of diamonds...

that we should really give back to like Angola or Liberia...

or The Ivory Coast or The Republic of the Congo...

or something.

I dunno.

put man, I really like this car.