Original subtitles

- Last season on "Average Joe"...

- Last season on "Average Joe"...

- Your dad stole $10 million from the Russian mob.

- And a Lamborghini.

- Daddy, you remember Dimitri.

- Where's the money, Joe?

- [screams]

- Dad just killed my boyfriend!

- In self-defense. - And you believe that?

- Bring me who killed my boy.

- There's $10 million out there.

We're looking for it.

- The money's in the house.

both: The money's in the house.

[tense music]

- We're short 9 million, Joe.

- You're gonna find the rest of the money.

- Where's your mother? - They took her.

- Trade me for my wife right now.

- [chuckles]

- Come here, baby. - Jenn is pregnant, Joe.

- You stay on mission. You find the money.

- Let's get your father and finish this shit.

- [yelling]

- I found Teddy's hideout.

- Jesus Christ. How much heroin did you find?

- He must have taken the 10 million he stole

and turned it into heroin

and then turned that heroin into even more money

and just kept doing that shit over and over again.

[gunshots]

- Are you okay?

- Jenn and I are going away for a while.

She needs this. I need this.

Goodbye, Joe.

[knocking on door]

- Ange!

Oh, dear God, no.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- What the fuck is this, Lee?

What the fuck happened to Cathy?

- She was shot, Joe.

We must have missed one of the Russians

who was waiting for us back at the house.

I got that motherfucker.

But he got Cat.

- We gotta get us to a hospital.

I'ma call an ambulance.

- No, no, no, no, no, we can't go to the hospital.

- What the fuck are you talking about?

She's fucking dying.

- The police investigate every shooting.

You know that, Joe.

- Well, we gotta call Touch.

- I tried. He's not answering.

- We gotta do this here.

- Do what here?

Who's this Indian nigga?

- He's from Pakistan. - I'm from Delaware.

- Who's the Pakistanian Delaware nigga?

- He's Vikram. He's our neighbor.

He's a vet.

- Thank you for your service.

- What?

- He's a veterinarian, Joe, not a fucking veteran.

- I'm confused.

- And he's gonna save Cathy's life.

- No, no, Leon, she needs a hospital.

There's nothing I can do for her here.

- Yes, you can.

Please.

You are gonna save Cathy's life.

- All right, Leon, please.

Come on.

♪ ♪

Save her life, and it's yours.

- All right.

But this is really gonna hurt.

- [screaming]

[Albert King's "Born Under a Bad Sign"]

[upbeat blues music]

♪ ♪

- ♪ Born under a bad sign ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Been down since I began to crawl ♪

♪ ♪

♪ If it wasn't for bad luck ♪

♪ You know I wouldn't have no luck at all ♪

♪ ♪

- There you go.

- ♪ Hard luck and trouble been my only friend ♪

♪ I've been on my own ♪

♪ Ever since I was ten ♪

♪ Born under a bad sign ♪

- There you go, baby.

♪ ♪

- ♪ Been down since I began to crawl ♪

♪ ♪

♪ If it wasn't for bad luck ♪

♪ You know I wouldn't have no luck at all ♪

- It's okay.

- ♪ I can't read ♪

♪ I didn't know how to write

[pounding, moaning]

♪ My whole life has been one big fight ♪

♪ Born under a bad sign ♪

♪ ♪

♪ I been down since I began to crawl ♪

♪ ♪

- Here, drink this.

- ♪ I say, I wouldn't have no luck at all ♪

- You can't fucking catch me.

[laughs hysterically]

♪ ♪

- ♪ You know if it wasn't for bad luck ♪

♪ I wouldn't have no kind of luck ♪

♪ If it wasn't for real bad luck ♪

♪ I wouldn't have no luck at all ♪

♪ ♪

[phone ringing]

- Ange?

Ange?

What? No, no, not again.

[distant arguing]

[knocking on door]

- Hey, buddy.

- Hey.

- Great to see you again. - Yeah.

- It's been a while.

You look...

good, buddy.

- What's up? [clears throat]

What's up, Joe?

- What the fuck happened to you?

- That was-- - He fell.

He fell changing the batteries on the smoke detector.

He tore his Achilles. - Dumbass.

- It was beeping.

And fuck you.

- Cathy, how you feeling?

- Better. Thanks.

Joe, why are you staying in this motel

and not at your house?

- I cannot stay at that house if I don't have

Ange and Jenn with me.

I just can't.

So what's up with them?

[sirens wailing distantly]

- Let's sit down.

Yeah?

These were sent to Angela. We don't know from who.

- My baby.

- She's gonna be fine, Joe.

So is Ange.

I got them both in protective custody.

My buddy from the FBI is gonna be with them the whole time.

- Tell him about the photos.

- Yeah, so there's writing on these photos,

and it is definitely Russian.

- Motherfucker.

This motherfucker is still after us?

Fuck.

- Tried to pull prints off these photos,

but they were clean.

The writing on that one photo, the Russian writing,

it means "Philsky Photography."

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- Who is Eddie Philsky?

- So we took that name, Philsky Photography,

we ran it through our databases.

We got one hit.

It's an old photo studio that's been out of business

for, like, five years in Cape Town, South Africa.

- Africa? - Yeah.

- What the fuck is Russians doing in Africa?

- Diamonds, maybe.

Or maybe Nicolai has another brother or another son

or, I don't know, a pissed off daughter.

- What about these phone numbers?

- Dead ends.

First one belongs to an 87-year-old woman

in Shreveport, Louisiana.

We ran her name. Nothing came back.

No hits, totally clean.

Second one goes to an out-of-order payphone

at a truck stop in Birmingham, Alabama.

- So we got a South African photo studio

and two numbers that don't mean shit?

Why the fuck they send this shit to Ange for anyway?

- I don't know, buddy.

- Maybe the Russians are just trying to spook you.

- Mission motherfucking accomplished.

Shit.

- But why be so cryptic about it?

- What do you mean?

- I mean, if it is the Russians,

and they want their 10 million and the Lambo back,

why not just show up to your house and be like,

where's my money, motherfucker?

- I mean, may--maybe they did, and I was here.

- But still, why go through all this bullshit?

I mean, they could have grabbed Jenn

while they was taking these photos and said,

meet us wherever the fuck and bring the loot.

- I mean, I don't know, Cathy.

I don't--unless there's a map to wherever the fuck

on the back of one of these other photos

that we missed, huh? You wanna look?

No, no, no.

Look. No map to wherever the fuck--

- I was just trying to fucking help, Joe.

- I know.

I'm just--I'm just tired of this shit, man.

I'm just tired of it.

I'm sorry.

- It's cool.

- Maybe it's a fold-in.

Like, uh, like in "Mad" magazine

back when we were younger.

You folded two corners together, and...

it's not a fold-in.

- So what the fuck do we do now?

- Well, I think we wait for the FBI to coordinate with--

- Hold up. What did you just say?

- I don't know. What did I say? I don't know.

- You said that there was no map on any of these photos.

But what if there is?

What if these phone numbers ain't really phone numbers?

On one of my murder shows, there was this serial killer

who kept sending the police these random phone numbers.

But what they found out was,

they weren't phone numbers at all.

They were GPS coordinates to where

they would find his next victim.

He was sending them a fucking map.

Oh, shit.

Cape Town, South Africa.

- That's my woman!

You're a bad motherfucker, baby.

- Hmm.

- Why do these Russians want me in Cape Town so fucking bad?

It's weird.

[intriguing music]

I gotta go.

- Whoa, whoa.

To Africa?

No, bad idea, Joe, okay?

You have no idea what's gonna be waiting for you down there.

- It's not like I got a whole bunch of motherfucking

choices here, Touch, okay?

- What, are you gonna get on a fucking plane?

- Look, I am in this shitty-ass fucking hotel

because I have lost my daughter and my wife.

I can't go home 'cause there's nothing to fucking go home to.

I have to get my family together.

You understand that?

And the only way Jenn and Ange is ever

gonna really fucking feel safe is if I finish this shit

once and for all.

Russians keep dangling this shit over my fucking head

all the goddamn time.

I'm gonna go.

And if I gotta kill all them motherfuckers,

I'ma kill all of them.

- Well, you sure as shit ain't gonna do it alone.

'Cause I'll be right there with you, pal.

I'm in.

- Thanks, T. - Damn straight.

- Fuck it. I guess we all going.

- No, no, there's no reason to put everybody

at risk out there, all right?

Y'all just chill and let us go out there.

- Nah, Joe.

We're family.

We do this together, or we don't do it at all.

- That's right.

Besides, I got the coordinates right here.

- So we're gonna be there, whether you like it or not.

- Fuck it.

I guess we all going to Africa.

- Motherland, motherfuckers!

[upbeat music]

- ♪ Beats by Emzo ♪

♪ Yemi Alade ♪

♪ Sauti Sol ♪

♪ Whether you come here to breakdance ♪

♪ Abi you come here to shake hands, shake hands ♪

♪ You come here to make plans ♪

♪ Ever we'll be the richest motherland ♪

♪ Whether you come here to rock waist ♪

♪ Oh, abi na to find food ♪

♪ Everything dey, oh ♪

♪ Ever we'll be the richest motherland ♪

♪ Anywhere you go ♪

♪ London, USA ♪

♪ Nowhere be like Africa ♪

♪ Nowhere be like home ♪

♪ Anywhere you go

- We're in Africa.

- [chuckles]

- ♪ Nowhere be like home ♪

[singing in Swahili]

♪ ♪

- All right, so listen up.

We have no idea what's gonna be waiting for us out here.

So when we get to those GPS-- - Jesus, Touch!

Eyes on the fucking road.

- I'm not driving, fucko.

Ta-da.

- Sorry.

- A little jacked up, are we?

- I'm fine. Fucking turn around.

Fucking "Alice in Wonderland" cars.

- What?

- "Through the Looking Glass."

We talked about this.

- [singing in Swahili]

♪ Anywhere you go

♪ London, USA

♪ Nowhere be like Africa ♪

♪ Nowhere be like home ♪

♪ Anywhere you go

♪ New York, Chicago ♪

♪ Nowhere be like Africa ♪

♪ Nowhere be like ho-ho-home ♪

[singing in Swahili]

♪ ♪

♪ Sweet like palm wine, oh ♪

- Okay. - This it?

- Yeah, but there's nothing here.

- What do you wanna do here, buddy?

- Uh...

maybe--maybe we dig.

- Dig?

- Yeah, we're here already.

There's gotta be something here.

See if we find something.

- Yeah, sure.

Fucking--let's dig.

- You feel like something's buried?

- Maybe.

- I just got my shit done.

That's all y'all.

Vacation nails.

- When we've reached the bottom,

I think we'll know we've gone too far.

- Oh, shit. - What?

- We got company.

[tense music]

- Oh, shit. Okay, let's get behind the SUV.

Let's go.

♪ ♪

Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Stop right there!

Let me see your hands.

Show me your fucking hands.

- Got a message.

- Pull up your shirt and turn around.

Turn the fuck around!

- Message for Joe.

- Joe, stay where you are.

Walk slowly. Let me see your belt again.

All right, he's clean.

Walk right over here, right here.

Keep your fucking hands where I can see them.

- You.

You're Joe.

- How the fuck you know my name?

- I got a message for you.

[gunshot]

[all groaning]

- Down, down! Get down!

[gunshots]

Listen, listen, just stay down.

- You see anybody? - I didn't see shit.

I got an idea.

- What the fuck? - Touch, what the fuck?

- Touch!

Get back here.

♪ ♪

- Shit. Fuck!

- Jesus, Touch.

When did you become fucking MacGyver?

- MacGyver was a bitch.

This is straight-up "Rockford Files" shit right here.

Get this shit to the FBI.

- Why? Where the fuck you going?

- I ain't scared of these fucks.

- Are you fucking crazy?

Get back here.

[intense electronic music]

♪ ♪

- Come on, motherfuckers!

- What the fuck is wrong with him?

- Your friend is a fucking nut job.

♪ ♪

- Okay, we're being shot at.

Touch is on his white shit. We gotta go.

- Okay, okay.

We gotta get in the SUV and get the fuck out of here right now.

Touch, get in the fucking SUV!

- Get down.

♪ ♪

- Who the fuck was shooting at us back there?

- Fucking Russian assassin.

Maybe even assassins.

- The motherfucker with the message.

Who the fuck was he?

- I think I still have some of him in my mouth.

- Oh, fuck.

- He was probably just some kid that the Russians

paid to draw us out, you know?

Here's some money, say you got a message

from Joe, and then bang.

We all dead.

- Fuck.

So--so what the fuck do we do now huh?

- Well, I think we wait for my guy at the FBI

to see what he can get me back on that dead messenger.

- Yeah, but since we got brains and shit all over our faces

and we driving around in an SUV full of bullet holes,

maybe we get off the street.

- Yeah, you know what? Cathy's right.

We gotta get the fuck off of here.

- Should I help?

- I'm worried about AIDS, guys.

Not 'cause he's African.

Is that my tooth or his?

[ethereal music]

♪ ♪

- I love you.

- [sobbing] I love you.

♪ ♪

- Father, it is your son

once again asking you for guidance.

Deliver unto me your guiding hand,

your gentle ways...

Your divine wisdom.

It is not easy nor cheap nor quiet

to steal 700 kilos of my heroin.

Tell me where it is, and I will spare your family.

- I don't know where it is, I swear to you.

They made us all wear masks.

And only the two men in charge were allowed to speak.

- Their names?

- I don't know, I swear to you.

- Hmm.

- No, no, no, no!

- No! Don't you--

don't you fucking do it!

- No!

- Don't you fucking do it!

Don't you fucking do it.

Don't you do it.

- Mom!

- And I will sprinkle unto you pure water.

And you will at last be clean.

And I will give you a new heart,

a new spirit, and a new life.

- No!

No! No!

[ominous chanting]

♪ ♪

Please.

I don't know who stole your heroin or where it is.

I swear to God, I don't know!

- He swears to me?

Ha.

- [screams] Daddy!

- Let her go! - Daddy!

- Let her go!

- Dad, please tell them what they wanna know!

Tell them anything!

- A name, a name, a name.

I can give you a name.

Will--William--

Billy.

It's Billy, an American.

I overheard the two men in charge.

One of them said to call the American.

And the other one said Billy.

Billy G!

- Billy G. - That's all he said.

Please.

Please let her go.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

[chanting]

♪ ♪

- No! No!

No! Let her go!

- No! No! No!

No! No!

No! No!

[sobbing]

- I won't kill you.

I want you to remember this moment

for the rest of your fucking miserable life.

Find this Billy G and bring him to me.

- Of course, Sipho.

[organ music]

♪ ♪

- Perhaps we shouldn't have put him on the diving board.

- Yeah.

Next time.

- Oh, no, no, we're fine.

Well, it happens.

I appreciate that.

No, thank you.

Okay, take care.

All right, so I told the rental place the SUV was stolen.

When they find it all shot to shit,

we don't know nothing about it, yeah?

- Yeah. - Okay.

Hey, guys, we should get going.

- Hey, hey, let me ask you a question, all right?

You all right?

- Yeah.

A little pissed off we got shot at, but yeah.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, about that.

What are you doing walking out in the open

with motherfuckers shooting at us?

- I'm not scared anymore, Joe.

Those Russian assholes need to know that.

- Scared is one thing, Touch.

What you was doing was like some suicidal shit.

You cool?

- I'm fine.

- Yeah? - Yeah.

- You're not using again, are you?

- No, look, Joe, I'm not using again, all right?

- I'm sorry for asking.

I'm just--I know we back in the middle of this,

and it's my fault.

- Hey, this isn't your fault, okay?

This is the Russians' fault. You said it yourself.

Ange and Jenn will not be safe until we finish this shit.

So we're gonna finish it,

and we're gonna get your family back.

Cool?

- Yeah, cool.

- Okay.

- All right.

- We're not your fucking valets.

- Yeah, okay.

- So what'd the rental car place say?

- They just wanted to know if we were okay.

- Oh, please tell me you got the optional

liability insurance. - Yes, Lee, I got it.

- Because if you didn't, they can

charge for all kinds of shit.

Me and Cat, we rented a car once 'cause we were driving

through Pennsylvania Dutch country,

and we didn't get the optional liability insurance

like I said we should have.

We got sideswiped by an Amish guy in a horse and buggy.

Ended up costing us 600 bucks.

Those people may light their houses with fireflies,

but they are petty as shit.

- [sighs]

- Just saying.

It's 'cause you got the optional liability insurance.

[phone buzzing]

- Oh, shit.

Here we go.

Okay, we got a name on our ATV messenger, Ziri Coetzee.

Got an address too.

It's in Cape Town.

- Let's get a cab.

- [singing in language]

[upbeat music]

♪ ♪

- This it? - [speaking Afrikaans]

- I'll give you this back.

[indistinct chatter]

- This is it.

[knocking on door]

Hello?

[knocking]

[tense music]

♪ ♪

Psst, hey.

Hello?

Hello?

Anybody home?

[distant conversations]

Hello?

[slams door]

Anyone here?

I think it's clear.

- Okay.

Hey, everybody, look.

Look for anything that we can use, all right?

Phone number or address, cell phone, anything, okay?

All right.

[ominous humming]

♪ ♪

- Nail Man.

♪ ♪

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- Check it out.

I found a pay stub.

Billy G's Bar Americana.

- Okay, I guess we know where we're going next.

We're gonna need to get a cab, though.

- Or not.

Looks like ATV man had a car.

- Touch, we gotta go now.

♪ ♪

- Father, I call upon your divine power

to find what was taken.

Find what was lost.

Return unto me my bounty and, in so,

revealing once again the presence of your greatness.

You have found the men? - Yes.

- Billy G, an American.

I am sending men.

- Go with them.

Let me know where it leads you.

- As you wish, brother.

- Thank you, Father.

[upbeat electronic music playing]

♪ ♪

- Whatever information we find out in this joint,

we keep it to ourselves, okay?

- I got you.

♪ ♪

- Hi. What can I get for you?

- Uh, tequila. Double.

- Sir? - You guys have ginger ale?

- Yes, we do.

- Is it real ginger ale or that half Coke,

half Sprite shit that bars try to use to fool everybody?

- It's real ginger ale.

- All right, let me get one of those.

With a little bit of ice, please.

Not too much.

Like 2/3 of the glass or like a third of the glass.

Unless you have it in a can. 'Cause then if the can is cold,

I don't even need no ice.

I just down that, you know what I mean?

It's frosty inside--no cans?

- You know he gonna spit in your shit now, right?

- Is that like a tradition?

♪ ♪

- Hey.

How you doing? - I'm doing good, man.

I was hoping you could help me out.

I'm actually looking for a buddy of mine who works here.

I wanted to know if he might be here tonight.

- Oh, yeah, sure, I can help.

I'm Billy G. My place.

- No shit? Oh, it's a great place, man.

I'm Benjamin. Nice to meet you.

- Where you from, Benjamin?

- Pittsburgh, PA.

- Iron City Beer. - Damn straight.

- We used to carry that, but I was the only one

who was drinking it.

I'm from a small town outside of Macon, Georgia.

Go Dawgs.

- Yeah, go Dawgs.

- So you say you got a friend who works for me?

It's a small world.

What's your friend's name?

- Name's Ziri.

I was just in the neighborhood.

I wanted to see if he might be around.

- Yeah, sure, he's working tonight.

He's out back.

Come on, I'll take you.

- No kidding?

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- Just out here.

- Okay, great.

- Hey, Ziri, you got a visitor.

Ziri?

Yo!

Ziri, you better not be smoking back here.

Ziri?

Maybe he's changing the kegs. Let's go take a look.

♪ ♪

- No fucking way.

- Take it easy now.

We can talk about this, Touch.

[upbeat music playing]

♪ ♪

- ♪ It's like candy ♪

♪ I can feel it when you walk ♪

♪ Even when you talk

♪ It takes over me ♪

♪ You're so dandy ♪

♪ I wanna know ♪

♪ Can you feel it too? ♪

♪ Just like I do ♪

♪ ♪

♪ The stuff is starting now

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- What the fuck?

That's not Teddy's number.

- Please enter your six-digit identification code,

followed by the pound sign.

- What fucking identification code?

Identification code?

[touch tones beeping]

- I'm sorry.

That is incorrect.

Please try again.

[touch tones beeping]

Please try again. [touch tones beeping]

Please try again. [touch tones beeping]

Please try again. Please try again.

- Joe, we need you now.

- Wait a second, look.

- Listen, right now.

[upbeat music playing]

♪ ♪

- Well, this is fucking weird, right?

- Yeah.

- Spooky even.

- Who the fuck are you?

- Mm-hmm.

Oh, good. Everybody's here.

- What the fuck is this?

- My name is Billy.

Billy G, like the sign outside says.

Now, you all must be-- well, you're Touch.

We've already met.

Joe. That makes you Leon.

And you, he only ever referred to as the loudmouthed bitch.

- Bitch? - No.

- Nigga, I will Texas two-step

all over your motherfucking face.

It's only one bitch in here, and it's you.

- Hold on now.

That ain't me talking. That's Teddy talking.

- Teddy?

My father, Teddy?

- Yeah, Joe.

You see, about five years ago, your father saved my life.

- Bullshit.

Teddy don't save fucking lives. He ruin them.

- Not in my case.

See, me and your father, we ended up

on the same fishing boat.

I had a fucking heart attack.

Your father, total stranger to me,

did CPR on me for 57 minutes.

You have any idea how hard that is, 57 minutes?

Anyway, we became friends,

and we'd go fishing from time to time.

The last time I saw him, he asked me to do him a favor.

- What favor? - Oh, shit.

It was you who sent the photos to Jenn, wasn't it?

- I don't know the girl's name, but yeah, I sent the photos.

Teddy gave me those pictures.

Said if he reached out,

something terrible had happened.

He'd be dead by the morning.

He reached out.

I sent the photos.

- What about the tow truck ad in the bathroom?

- What ad?

- He got an ad for Pop's tow yard in the bathroom.

- You found that already?

Good.

- Do you have the code to the number in the ad?

- I called that number a hundred times.

I can't guess the code.

But I sent the photos, I put the ad up in the pisser,

and I sent Ziri out to make sure you guys got here okay.

- Ziri's is dead, you know?

- I--

I did not.

- Oh, I thought you knew.

- Who killed him?

- We're not sure.

It was a sniper.

Probably Russian.

- Why Russian? - Hmm.

A lot of shit you don't know about Teddy.

- Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Those pictures of Jenn--

that's my daughter-- were fairly recent.

When did Teddy give you those photos?

- About three weeks ago.

- Bullshit.

My father's been dead for almost four fucking

months now, motherfucker. Don't play.

I will fuck you up, dude.

- Joe, I don't know what to tell you.

Three weeks ago, your father,

standing right where you are now,

gave me those photos.

- So--so what you saying?

He--he faked his death in Pittsburgh?

You--you saying that he faked his fucking death?

- Well, why would he do that?

- I can think of 10 million reasons why.

- And a fucking Lambo.

- Motherfucker.

[somber music]

♪ ♪

[Soft Cell's "Tainted Love" playing]

♪ ♪

- ♪ Sometimes I feel I've got to run away ♪

♪ I've got to get away ♪

- Phone number is wrong.

- I'm aware of that.

- Please enter your six-digit identification code

followed by the pound sign.

- Hey, occupied.

Use the ladies'.

- ♪ Now I'll run from you ♪

♪ This tainted love you-- ♪

- Okay, it's a six-digit code, so it's gotta be a date, right?

- Yeah, I done put in birthdays, when my mom died,

when Pops opened up his shop.

Just ain't nothing happening, man.

- We gotta think like Teddy on this shit.

- Yeah.

Think like, how did we get here?

Like, what did Teddy have us doing in Pittsburgh?

He definitely wanted me to find the safety deposit box key

in the office safe, which led to the key

to the Lambo.

- The license plates on the Lambo led us to the deer head.

- Which led to the million.

- Which ultimately led us to Nicolai and Hit-bitch.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second.

When was it ever Teddy and Son Towing?

- Summer my mother died, I ended up working for him.

- You worked for Teddy?

Why would you ever do that?

- [sighs] This motherfucker wouldn't pay for--

He wouldn't buy my mom's-- - What?

- This motherfucker.

both: What?

- My mom died.

He wouldn't pay for her tombstone.

Said it was a waste of money.

Said she was already dead, so she wouldn't know about it.

Just disrespectful.

- Jesus.

- Yeah.

She deserved better than that.

- So you went to work for Teddy so you

could pay for the headstone?

- And the day that he cut that check,

which he thought was way too fucking much,

was the last day that I ever worked for that motherfucker.

- Hmm.

- Complaining about my money.

This motherfucker.

$2,150...

75 cents.

- No way.

- Identification confirmed.

To receive a text message, press star now.

- Insane. - Petty motherfucker.

[phone chimes]

[upbeat electronic music]

We out.

- [singing in language]

♪ ♪

- Follow them.

- ♪ The money on the plane to Cape Town ♪

♪ The money on the train to Durban ♪

♪ Ain't no hesitate, no wait, no ♪

♪ Hurry up, young paper chaser ♪

[singing in language]

♪ ♪

- All right.

Me and Touch are gonna go in.

Y'all chill at the car, all right?

- Why the fuck would we stay back here?

- 'Cause we don't know what's going on

in this house, all right?

Ain't no reason for all of us getting captured in here.

- Why the fuck did we get out the car, then?

- Look, start the car, turn it around,

and keep it running 'cause if we gotta run,

that's goddamn what we gonna do, run.

- Got you, Joe.

- [mockingly] I got you, Joe.

Really?

- What?

- Turn the fucking car around.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- Should we knock?

- You wanna knock on the door and tell

the whole world we're here?

- I don't fucking know.

I'm just saying.

- No knocking.

[glass breaks]

- Motherfucker, that was louder than a goddamn knock.

- Okay, but who the fuck knocks on the door

in the middle of the night and announces their arrival?

You might as well just ring the fucking doorbell.

- I don't know, it's not like I'm some cat burglar

that do this every weekend.

- Did you say cat burglar? What is this, 1978?

- Fuck you.

I watched a lot of "Streets of San Francisco" on the plane.

- Do you wanna stand out here arguing all night,

or you wanna go in the fucking house?

- Go in the fucking house, then, shit.

- I hope Teddy doesn't have a dog.

♪ ♪

- This is bullshit!

What if there's money in there?

What if it's heroin in there?

Think your boys is gonna share any of that with us?

- Shit. What?

- Are you fucking listening to me?

- No. Yes.

Look, I can't focus, all right?

I think I have jet lag or something.

I swallowed some brains, warm ginger ale.

I probably have prion disease.

- Oh, God, they could be finding millions right now

and I'm in this car with you and your non-focusing

jet lag walking dead-ass motherfucker!

- What did you say?

- Oh, my God! - I just--

I'm here, I'm here, I'm here.

- What are we looking for? - I don't know.

Anything Teddy might have wanted us to find.

That could be anything.

Hey, you think--

- What the fuck? - What?

- Seriously?

That's what you grabbed?

- Oh, God.

I didn't know it had a big dick on it.

- How could you not?

- Why would you have a big dick in your house like this?

- Why is it so close to your mouth?

- It's not close-- it's not close to my mouth.

It's big, so it's gonna be everywhere.

- Right up there by your chest. - It's not.

- That's a weird choice.

- Who has dicks in their house? - Shh!

- Ain't nothing wrong with liking dick.

- I understand.

- To each his own, you know?

Just not me.

- You go upstairs. I'm gonna go this way.

- Okay.

- Turn it around, for God's sakes.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- Fuck this.

- All's my life, I had to fight.

- What? - God.

I was dreaming I was in "The Color Purple,"

only it was the new one.

- And you most identified with Miss Sophia?

- I guess.

- I'm getting the fuck out of here.

- No, Joe told us to wait in the car.

- Well, you stay here in the car, then.

♪ ♪

Shit.

Fuck.

[gasps]

- [yells]

- [panting]

- You okay?

- Yeah.

Fuck.

- Jesus Christ, Cathy.

Take this.

What the fuck are you doing here?

- I came looking for you two fools.

Leon was getting worried.

- Fucking Leon.

- Who the fuck is this guy, and what does he want?

- I have no idea. Chances are he's not alone.

- Behind you!

Shit!

[gunshots]

♪ ♪

Did you hit him? - I'm not sure.

- It's clear. - Let's go.

- Go.

♪ ♪

- Joe?

You okay, man? You hurt?

- I'm okay.

I'm okay.

Thanks, Lee.

What did you do?

- Just call me the Nail Man.

- It still sound like mailman.

- Look at that.

- All right.

- What the fuck is that?

- I did not know it had a big dick on it, all right?

- How could you not?

Where's Cathy?

- Cathy's here? - Yeah.

- I have not seen her nowhere.

You look downstairs. I'll look up here.

- All right, I got you.

- All right.

[eerie music]

♪ ♪

- What the fuck?

Fuck you.

Teddy.

♪ ♪

- Oh, shit, it's Lee. - What?

- It's fucking Lee.

- It's me.

I knew it was her. I knew it was you.

- I knew it was you too.

♪ ♪

[rustling, thuds]

- Don't you even try it.

Who are you?

- Joe.

- Joe who?

Joe Mama.

- All right, Joe Mama.

Where's the girl?

- What girl?

- The girl.

- What girl?

I don't know what fucking girl you talking about.

- Then you can die.

- Go.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- Shit. You okay?

What?

What the fuck?

Shh. Shh.

- Oh, Joe, tell me you found another million--

- Shh!

♪ ♪

- Whoa, whoa. Hey, hey, take it easy.

- Stay away from me. Stay away from me!

- Hey, hey, hey, hey. - Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

- Calm down, all right? Relax.

- Get back! Get out. - Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.

Put the hammer down, lady. Easy.

- Get out.

Get out of my house!

Help! Someone help me!

- Hey, nobody's here to hurt you, all right?

Just chill. Just calm down.

- Help! - Chill!

- Hey, hey! - Chill.

What the fuck? Cathy?

- Uh-huh.

- Get in here and help me, sweetie.

- Get back.

♪ ♪

- Easy.

Nice and easy.

Whoa, whoa!

God damn it!

God, I just wanted you to talk to her.

- Well, you gotta be more specific with me, Joe.

- [sighs]

[eerie music]

♪ ♪

- [groans]

- Who are you?

- I want you to get out of my house right now!

- Who are you?

- You want me to punch her again?

- No, Cathy, no.

Just--just--just stay over there.

- Okay.

- That man said he was looking for a girl.

Was it you?

- Hey, you're gonna have to start

answering some questions here.

Why are there men here looking for you, hmm?

What did you do?

- Listen, girlie, you better start talking or--

- Or what?

- Or I don't know.

- We are not here to hurt you.

We're here to find out why we all are here.

- If you don't know why you're here,

then why don't you just get out?

- Maybe she's right, Joe.

We should leave.

- Joe?

Joe, like Teddy's Joe?

♪ ♪

- Yeah.

I'm Joe.

Teddy was my father.

- I'm Imani.

Teddy is my father.

Teddy's alive.

- Teddy's fucking alive?

♪ ♪

[tense music]

♪ ♪