Original subtitles

Sorry I'm late, man.

I saw my karate instructor on the way here,

and I had to chat with him for a little while

to be polite; that's why�

- Hey, I don't need to know about your life, asshole.

You got the cash?

- Sorry.

Of course I got the cash.

- Put it on the ground.

- Okay.

- Okay, now give it to me.

- You can count it again if you like.

It's all in there.

- I just counted it by looking at it.

I know it's okay.

- Okay, cool.

- There you go.

- What�what is this?

I-I don't understand.

- Everything's inside.

It's easier to carry. More discreet.

- Oh, yeah?

But how do I get the stuff out?

- Are you dumb or what?

You take a knife.

You split the rat open.

You take your weed out.

You smoke it.

Can you manage that?

Or do you need an instruction manual?

- Nah, I'm okay.

That works.

- Oh, that's good.

You're smart.

Now get the hell out of here.

- All right.

- And I don't give a fuck

about your karate instructor, okay?

Move!

- Okay, sorry.

[thumping music]

? ?

? ?

- Excuse me. Police.

Did you drive a car here today, ma'am?

- Yeah, why?

[indistinct police radio transmission]

[tapping]

I just�I just bought it.

Um...

What seems to be the problem?

- License and registration, please.

- Okay.

Everything is quite in order.

- Ms. Kieffer, Julia.

That is your name, correct?

- Yes.

Are you gonna tell me what's wrong or not?

- I'm gonna need you to come down and see me later today

so we can discuss this ASAP.

It's pretty delicate.

- Okay.

Um...

I'm sorry. I don't understand.

Why can't you just tell me what's wrong?

Why are you being so mysterious?

- I am not being mysterious.

This is standard procedure, ma'am.

I'm not gonna go ahead and tell you what the problem is

here in the parking lot like this.

That's not how we do things.

You know what?

I'm gonna need your contact information right now

so we can talk about this.

Write your number down here clearly.

A cell phone number would be preferable.

- Whatever.

[sighs]

- What on earth are you up to?

- It's okay. I'm done here.

- Oh�oh, good. Great, great.

'Cause I've just been waiting for you

like a freakin' idiot for, like, a half an hour.

- Did you bring me my coffee?

- Yeah. Yeah.

There you are, your coffee!

- Ah...

- Come on. Hurry up.

- See you later.

[funky electronic music]

? ?

[urinating]

- What, do you want a picture of my dick?

- Excuse me?

- I'm asking you if you want a picture of my dick.

- No, I don't want a picture of your dick.

- Are you sure?

- I wasn't looking at your dick.

I was just staring...

at that thing...

um, over there.

- What are you doing here?

Why are you waiting?

- I just stopped to listen to some music.

- What's your name?

- My name is David Dolores Frank.

- Your parents know you're a street hooker,

David Dolores Frank?

- No, 'cause I'm not a street hooker.

Prostitution is wrong.

- [scoffs]

Okay, drop it.

Do whatever you want.

I don't give a fuck.

What are you listening to?

- Something cool.

- Let me hear it.

Get down here.

- Ugh.

My stomach is fucking killing me, man.

- Please, I don't want to hear about your digestive problem.

I don't want to know.

- Hello. I'm the one who called you.

- Hi. It's Gary, isn't it?

- Yeah.

- No, I'd rather not shake your hand,

if you don't mind.

- Well, here we are.

There he is.

- Okay. Nice atmosphere.

I like it.

- How long has he been there?

- About an hour.

Went out to buy some cigarettes,

and we went out for a bit of a stroll,

and when we came back,

he was there.

- Did you know him?

- Yeah, he was my neighbor for ten years.

Name is Gary, just like me.

- How do you think he got in?

- Well, he had an extra set of my keys,

you know, just in case.

Can't imagine why he had to come into my living room

to kill himself, though.

I-I don't understand.

- Maybe he just didn't want to dirty his own place up.

- It could be just as simple as that.

You're right.

- Actually, if I were you,

I'd wash this whole mess up right now.

Once the blood has dried, it'll be hell to get clean.

- Well, don't you have to take out the body first?

[stomach churns]

- Gary, can I use your bathroom?

- Oh, yeah. Uh, it's just in there.

- Hey, hurry up.

I don't want to spend the whole morning here.

- Don't you have to take any notes

or even, you know, photographs?

- No.

Why?

- Well, for the investigation.

- Relax.

There's not going to be any investigation.

[upbeat electronic music]

? ?

- [loudly] I know this stuff!

Uh, okay.

? Eh, eh, eh, eh ?

I mean...

I've heard this a thousand times!

Where is this shit from?

I'll bet it's German.

- I don't know.

It's just fucking cool.

I just like it 'cause it's cool.

I don't care where it's from.

- Oh, yeah!

This stinks of Germany!

- Yes?

- Mrs. Julia Kieffer?

- Speaking.

- Officer De Luca here.

We met on the parking lot.

- What do you want?

- [sniffs]

[sniffs]

- So, uh...

You're not gonna ask me any more questions?

- Yes.

I have one last question.

How long has this mozzarella been there?

- I don't know.

A week, maybe.

- Hmm.

I'd say it's been more like three weeks.

Your refrigerator is depressing.

- Well, at least I feel reassured.

I was really scared

that you would suspect me of murder.

I mean, the body is in my house.

It could look that way.

I could have killed him and put the gun in his hand.

- You know what? I couldn't care less.

It's your life.

It's your neighbor who's dead, not mine.

Right?

- The flush is broken.

- Well, that was boring.

Gary and Gary.

Lame.

- Look what I found in his bathroom.

- You stole a magazine from that poor guy?

- Yeah. - You're such a dickhead.

- He had loads of 'em.

It's an old fag rag.

It's kind of good.

- You won't shake his hand,

but you've got no problem

touching the magazine that he jacks off to?

- Fuck!

- What?

- Oh, my God.

This is so huge.

You're not gonna believe this.

- What? Show me.

[gasps]

Jesus fucking Christ.

- Yeah.

- [laughs]

[gasps]

[bell rings]

[indistinct police radio transmission]

- What are you doing in this shit hole, man?

It's gross.

Last time I ate here,

I had the shits for two days.

- Look, I don't care.

Do you have my weed?

- [scoffs] Yeah.

There you go.

And I gave you an extra half

because I like you.

- Why the fuck hasn't that stupid kid

stopped staring at me since I got here?

- Which kid?

That one?

- Yeah, it's bugging me.

- Hey, little twerp.

Stop staring at my friend

while he's eating, okay?

It bothers him.

- Yeah, don't look at me,

even when I'm not eating.

Don't ever look at me.

Hey, do you mind if I pay you, uh, next time?

I'm having some money issues.

- How long have these money issues been going on?

I mean, you already owe me 520 bucks, Sunshine.

What are you up to?

- Yeah, look, I'm being screwed by this home shopping thing.

I ordered this bodybuilding machine,

like, ultrasophisticated,

and they screwed up,

and they charged me ten times for it.

- You, bodybuilding?

- Well, I haven't�

I haven't received the machine yet, so...

- Yeah, but it means you intend to start.

- Well, yeah. Why not?

- [laughs]

I just can't picture you bodybuilding, that's all.

Hey.

I'm just thinking...

Do you want to pay your debt off to me

by carrying out a little favor?

Nice and easy.

- Well, have to see.

What is it?

- Well, I mean, you know,

I don't want to talk about it here.

Let's take a walk.

- Oh, my God.

Who is that guy?

- Nobody.

Just some guy.

- What happened?

Did you run him over?

- No, I shot him by mistake.

- This is not how we're gonna fit in with the neighbors.

Why did you do that?

- Shut up, Mommy.

Everything is fine.

No one saw anything.

Fate wanted this, not me.

[grunts]

Can you help me lift this fucker?

- I got this. All right.

[body thumps]

I didn't like the guy anyway.

- I'll dump him in the river.

[thumping electronic music]

? ?

Oh, no!

I thought you were dead!

- Yeah, me too.

- Fuck!

- Wh...wh...

What was the music you were listening to

when you were driving?

I liked it a lot.

- Ugh, that's disgusting.

- So listen.

You take him, you get rid of him neatly,

and I simply forget about the money you owe me.

It's as easy as that.

- I've never killed anyone before.

I don't know if I can.

It's kind of scary, Duke.

I'm not� ugh, I'm not feeling it.

- What are you afraid of?

There's nothing to do.

The guy is 75% dead already.

You dig a big hole, and you throw him in.

You bury him.

Boom, job is done.

- But that's horrible.

- It's horrible for him.

It's not horrible for you.

Hey, come on.

I'm just trying to help you out with your money problems.

You don't have to do it.

Think about all the equipment you could buy

to bulk up with.

[laughs]

[dramatic musical flourish]

- What kind of deranged meeting place is this?

- Don't worry, the police office is right there.

I just came outside to have a little fresh air.

Sometimes I take meetings out here

'cause it's a little depressing inside.

[spits]

- All right, so...

- I'm sorry.

Show me your breasts.

I want to see your breasts.

- I'm sorry. What?

- This was all a ploy to get you into my trap.

But don't worry.

I don't have to use this thing, you know.

All you got to do is take off that top

and show me one breast,

two breast, both breasts.

- [laughs]

Wow, I'm sorry.

I just� I don't know how to react.

- Stop changing the subject and show me those breasts.

- You can't be serious.

I mean, you just can't be.

This is a joke, right?

- [fake laugh]

Yeah, have a laugh.

But in the meantime, this is a real fucking gun.

- What is your problem?

Do you have, like, issues talking to girls?

Is this, like, your pickup line?

- Stop wasting my fucking time

with your twisted questions.

What must be done will be done.

And what must be done today is,

you take off that top and show me those breasts,

'cause this is a real fucking gun.

What must be done will be done.

And this might not be making perfect sense,

but it makes sense up in my fucking brain.

So do me a favor, drop it.

Let me see the breasts.

- What are you gonna do if I don't comply?

- I'm gonna put a fucking bullet in your head.

You're gonna fall down.

There's gonna be blood everywhere.

I'm gonna walk over with my dirty shoe,

and I'm gonna lift up your shirt,

and then I'll see your breasts.

- Okay.

- It's win-win for me, girl.

- Yeah, I see that.

- What are you doing?

Julia, that's a bad idea.

[yelling]

- I feel really sorry for you, man.

- [yells]

- Get some help, seriously.

- You fucking bitch!

Wait! Show me your breasts!

Ah!

Show me your breasts!

- It's not that I don't trust you, Bob.

It's just that I love counting these babies.

I could count this all day, every day.

- I know.

Take your time counting.

- What are you up to these days?

You been working?

- I just signed with a big studio

to direct a really big movie.

I'm doing okay.

- Cool.

Bravo, man.

That'll be great for my business.

I mean, that is, you could hook me up with movie stars

loaded with cash.

- It's a numerical movie.

[spits]

There are no stars.

- A numerical movie.

- Mm-hmm.

- Wow.

I have no idea what that means,

but it sounds awesome and amazing.

[cell phone beeping]

[line rings]

- Yeah?

- Linda!

How's my little kitty?

- Good. Are you on your way?

- No, actually, that's why I'm calling.

You need to tell Donaldson

that I can't won't be in the office this afternoon.

- Why?

- Well, it's personal.

It's a family matter.

I can't talk about it on the phone.

- Is it serious?

- Well, yeah, it's serious.

It's serious enough where I can't come into the office.

- But Donaldson is waiting for you.

- Okay, yeah, tell Donaldson that, uh,

I have to take care of this guy

who is definitely getting cancer.

- Oh.

- Well, that's what the doctor said.

The doctor said, "Maybe cancer."

- Hey!

Turn some music on, please.

- Uh, Linda, I have to go.

That is the family member who may have cancer

who is calling me.

Okay, bye.

Hey, what is the matter with you,

yelling like that?

- The music.

It did me some good...

in your partner's car.

It helped me to think of something else.

Without the music,

it's very difficult.

The pain comes back.

And I really don't feel that well.

Then just put a little music on for me.

That's all I'm asking for.

- Okay, I'll put some music on. No problem.

[funky upbeat music]

? ?

Is that better?

Do you like that music?

? ?

Hey, is that the kind of music you like?

? ?

[dramatic thumping music]

? ?

Sir?

Hey.

Hey, sir.

Sir. - What?

- Hey, I've have an errand to run right now,

so I'll be gone for a while,

no more than five minutes.

Is that okay?

- I have to tell my wife.

She must be worried.

- Okay, we'll talk about that when I get back,

because now I have an errand to run.

Now, would you like to listen to some music

in the meantime or not?

- Oh, yes, please.

- Okay, did you like the music that I was listening to?

Or would you like something else?

- I don't know.

I can't remember.

- Okay, I'm gonna hurry up.

Don't move.

[upbeat electronic music]

? ?

[gun clicks]

I am taking this shovel.

Okay, fine. I'm taking a...

A key chain too, okay?

[upbeat electronic music]

? ?

Hey! What are you doing with my car?

Get away!

- Nothing.

I was just wondering why the music was so loud.

That's all.

- So the radio's on.

I don't see what the big deal is.

- Well, normally people turn their radios off

when they park their cars.

It's kind of strange to leave it on,

don't you think?

- No, I don't.

And normally people walk on their feet.

Don't you think it's a little bit strange

that you need this thing to wheel you around?

- Hey, go fuck yourself!

- [laughs]

[music continues]

? ?

- No, really, you should just call me whenever you want.

No matter what time it is, wherever you are, Bob,

I will be there for you.

You're my top-priority client.

You can count on me.

- That's really nice.

- Seriously.

- Okay. [chuckles]

- So do we kiss now to say good-bye or what?

- Why do you want to kiss me?

- Well, isn't that the way it's done

in the movie world?

- No. - Everyone kisses everyone?

- No.

- Oh, I thought it was.

- No.

- Maybe it's a regular cinema thing,

not for numerical movies.

- See ya, Duke.

Thanks, buddy.

Peace out.

- Hey, whatever you like.

Take care, Bob!

- Hey, I'm home.

- Hey, honey.

What are you doing home so early?

- Well, I just decided to pop in�

I was in the neighborhood�

and give you a kiss.

- Mwah!

- How's my little bunny?

- We're watching a great movie.

- Oh, really?

- You really smell like marijuana.

- I do? [sniffs]

Oh, uh, well, uh,

we seized a big shipment this morning,

so I've been handling big bags of weed all day.

- I know you're an office cop, Daddy.

Forget it.

Can we just keep watching our movie?

- Okay.

Sorry. I'll leave you alone.

Oh, this looks great.

- What are you doing with a shovel, darling?

- Oh, this? I'm just�

It's nothing. I'll, uh...

I'll tell you later, but it's not a big deal.

So, uh, yeah, keep watching your movie.

I'll stop bothering you guys, all right?

[dramatic percussion]

? ?

- [muffled] Hey! Sir?

Don�t leave me here without music!

Please!

[dog barking in distance]

[dog continues barking]

[dog continues barking]

- Holy fucking shit.

[funky electronic music]

? ?

- Hey, baby, did you manage to take care

of my parking tickets like I asked?

- Well, I haven't, uh�

I haven't tried, to be honest with you.

- Well, that's not very nice.

'Cause when I asked you,

you said you would take care of them.

I was counting on you. I really was.

- Well, I have thought about it,

and I think you deserve those tickets, Michael.

- Screw you!

Don't call me Michael.

- Hang on.

How fucking hard is it to park in the right place?

I think you do it on purpose!

Why are you parking

in the wrong fucking place all the time?

- You are such an asshole.

- Oh, my God.

I love this song.

You know it?

- I don't give a fuck about your song, okay?

Don't ever call me again.

I'm out of here.

- That is up to me, buddy.

I will call you

if I fucking feel like calling you!

[cell phone rings]

Yeah?

- Duke, where are you?

I need to see you immediately.

- Sunshine.

What do you want?

Don't tell me you smoked it all already.

- [chuckling] No.

No, not at all.

But I have changed my mind.

- What are you talking about?

Changed your mind about what?

- I just found a bag of cash buried in my backyard.

There's enough money in here

to buy weed for the next year,

maybe even two years.

- [chuckling] Come on, man.

You expect me to believe your bullshit?

Why don't you just say

you didn't have the balls to finish the guy?

- No, no, no. I'm serious.

I�m not kidding.

$13,000 in some old, crappy bag.

I think it was the life savings

of the guy who lived here before me.

- Wow.

Fuck!

- I know.

So I can pay you back what I owe you,

and I no longer have to kill this guy.

All I have to do is give him back to you.

- Yeah, okay.

Where is the guy right now?

- Still in my car.

- All right, all right.

Bring him over.

I'm at the Flamingo Hotel, room 20.

- [chuckles] I'm on my way.

- Fuck.

God damn it.

Fuck!

[door slams]

- Excuse me.

Do you mind if we sit with you?

- Are you talking to me?

- Yeah. - Can we sit with you, please?

- Not unless you change those haircuts.

- Well, I don't think you're in the best position

to be talking about haircuts, mister.

[scoffs]

- Yeah, so can we sit or not?

- No.

I don't want to smell the stench

of that cheap cologne you got on.

- Cheap? [scoffs]

We're both wearing Ralph Lauren, so...

- Yeah, well, I never heard of the shit.

- Well, it's 60 bucks a bottle,

so maybe you should have.

Come on.

Let's go sit over there.

- Yeah.

- Enjoy your meal.

- How are you today?

- I just woke up 20 minutes ago, barely.

So I'm a little out of it.

- Take a look at this.

That should wake you up.

- This is for fags.

Why do you have it?

- Open it. I'm telling you.

- Oh, no.

- [laughs] You like?

- Fuck...

Yuck. No.

- [laughs]

- Ugh! God.

Get that away from me before I throw up.

- I'm gonna photocopy it and post it all over the place

for everyone to enjoy.

- You know that idiot just found a bag of cash

digging a hole in his backyard?

- Are you kidding?

- No.

That dickhead found $13,000.

- Fuck me.

- Can you imagine?

I mean, you could get your nose done for a third time

with that money.

- Fuck, yeah.

- You see?

You see?

Only losers have that kind of luck.

If I dig a hole in my backyard,

the best I can hope for is a potato.

But that fucking moron finds $13,000.

Only losers have that kind of luck.

- True.

[phone rings]

- Hello?

- Hello. Is this Mr. Vincent Rough?

[coughs]

- Who's asking?

- My name is Jack..

I just saw your ad

in the April issue of Synthesizers magazine.

- Yeah.

- Is the drum machine still for sale?

- Well, it depends. What kind of music do you do?

- Well, it�s hard to describe.

Let's say I'm especially influenced by '60s music,

but I like to mix it up with more modern stuff.

- Okay, I get it.

You know what?

Go fuck yourself.

You don't deserve my drum machine.

- Who was that?

- [sighs] Some kind of dickhead.

- How much longer you gonna make me wait, man?

Come on. Play me that song.

- So what you have to know

is that this is not the final mix, right?

I'm still working on the structure,

but it will give you a good idea of what it is.

- Don't piss around with your technical crap.

Just play it.

- You're the first to hear this.

[upbeat techno music plays]

? ?

[synthesized piano solo]

? ?

- Okay. Okay.

Okay, okay. You can stop.

I get it. - Okay.

So, again, I'm still working on it,

but what do you say?

- You want me to be honest?

- Totally, of course.

I mean, it's just the two of us.

- That song is shit in a can.

- What?

- I thought it was just awful.

- I disagree.

This song is a huge hit.

- A hit?

No way, Rough. Trust me.

I know this business.

That song sucks.

Not even a tampon ad would want to use that song.

- You have ads for tampons that are very good.

- I think you should just throw that song in the trash

and start again from scratch.

I mean, that's my friendly advice.

- Okay, Duke, I appreciate your honesty,

but I'm still gonna wait for a second opinion, okay?

- You want a second opinion?

- Yeah. But from someone else.

Not a second opinion from you.

- I understand. Don't move.

- Where you going?

- I'll be right back.

[upbeat techno music]

? ?

Hey!

Wake up!

I need you for five minutes.

Come on. Get up.

Come on.

? ?

[music stops]

- Whoa. - There you go.

- What is this? What's happening?

- Just a guy from my neighborhood.

I'll explain later.

But he can tell you whether your song

is worth anything or not.

- Give it up.

Look at your guy.

He's a wreck.

What's the point?

- Do you want a second opinion or not?

- [sighs]

Okay...

Okay.

[upbeat techno music]

? ?

[cell phone rings]

- Hello?

What?

Hold on!

? ?

No.

Who?

Bob?

Bob! No, no.

I didn't forget.

I'm just around the corner.

Two minutes.

? ?

[music stops]

- Sir? Sir?

Hey. Hey!

What are you doing?

- I have to run!

Client emergency!

- No way.

You can't just leave that guy at my place!

- Don't worry!

I'll be back to get him later.

He's easy. He won't move.

I won't be long!

[engine turns over]

- Shit!

- What's the matter, baby?

Why you screaming?

- That was nothing. I was talking to a colleague.

- You have a minute?

We could fuck-- a quickie.

- Not now.

I'm working on something.

- That shitty song you've been listening to

for the last four days?

Is that what you're doing?

- [scoffs]

You don't know anything about music.

That's a huge hit.

Ah!

Sir.

Sir!

Wake up. Wake up.

[pounding on door]

[sighs]

[sighs] What do you want?

- Your brown cock, stupid.

- I told you I'm busy.

What's the matter with you? Go home!

- I'm bored at home.

My man is in there with his moronic friends

watching the hockey on TV.

It's boring!

- Yeah, all right. Hockey sucks.

- Can't you get away from your gay music for five minutes

and give me one?

Come on. Let me in. Open up.

- [sighs] We�we can't do it here.

It's too dirty.

- Stop your bullshit. Open up.

- What about my car?

- Anywhere. In the trash room if you want.

[line rings]

[phone rings]

- Sunshine speaking.

- Hi, sexy.

- Who is this?

- Guess.

- Mommy, is that you?

- You have a 14-year-old girl, Sunshine, don't you?

- She's 13.

Who the fuck is this?

- Does your daughter know that once upon a time

you did gay porn?

How much would you be willing to cough up

so that she doesn't see her father in a magazine

getting sodomized by convicts?

[both panting]

- Do you really think you're gonna make it in music?

- Yeah. Why not?

- I don't know. You're a cop.

- So?

- It sucks.

Nobody wants to listen to some cop's music, do they?

- Of course they do.

- [slurred] Hey, the game's over, honey.

- Hi. Hey, darling.

Uh, was it good?

- Ah, it was not too bad.

Jimmy fell asleep.

He is so drunk.

- As usual.

Do you want me to make you some coffee?

- Actually, we're out of beer.

- Okay. I'll go get you some.

Do you know Rough, our neighbor?

The cop?

- Oh!

Hi! Yeah!

Yeah, we bump into each other sometimes.

How are you?

- Hi.

- You know, we hear you working on your music.

The walls are so thin.

- I know. I'm sorry.

I'm gonna try to work with headphones now.

- No, no, no, no. I don't mind.

I think it's quite good.

It's Ruth who can't stand it.

She said it's the worst music she's ever heard.

[upbeat techno music playing]

Oh! That's it!

Yeah!

I think it's quite good.

You know, the groove is good.

Yeah. I don't know.

There may be just a little something missing.

I don't know.

Oh, here's my favorite part.

[playing droning note repetitively]

? ?

- This is good.

This is good!

? ?

[woman shouting indistinctly]

[engine turns over]

- Hi, Duke.

- God!

What the fuck are you doing here?

Jesus Christ!

Are you stupid?

You scared the life out of me!

- I wanted the element of surprise.

I need to talk to you.

- You couldn't do it like anyone else,

on the phone?

It would be easier, wouldn't it?

- No, because over the phone,

you can't threaten someone with a knife.

- [scoffs and laughs]

You aren't seriously threatening me

with a kitchen knife, are you?

- Yeah, I could slit your throat right open with this.

So don't fuck up.

- Oh, I see.

It's a joke, huh?

You joking piece of shit.

You want to steal my weed? Is that it?

- No, I want to know who you gave the information to!

Ugh! - Give me that!

What information, for fuck's sake?

What are you talking about?

- About the money I found.

Who did you mention it to?

- I don't know.

I talked about it to everyone.

What's the problem?

- Really?

- Well, yeah. Was I not supposed to?

- Oh, shit!

- What?

- Nothing, okay? Just�thanks a lot.

Next time, could you please keep your mouth shut?

- Well, excuse me. I must have missed something.

I don't understand what your fucking problem is.

- It doesn't matter!

Okay, bye!

[thumping]

- Honey.

I'm dropping Kevin off at school in your car,

and then I'm coming right back, okay?

- What are you doing in your mink?

Are you crazy?

- I was just a little cold, that's all.

Can I take your car or what?

- Oh, yeah. I don't care.

- Okay.

- You really look like a high-class hooker in that.

- Kevin, let's go! We're taking BilI's car.

Come on.

Get in.

- [sighs]

- You sure you got a rendezvous here?

- Yes, I'm sure.

Now stop talking.

You're stressing me out.

Do you want to blow everything?

- They're 16 minutes late.

They got to be amateurs.

- I don't care, okay? Just stick to the plan.

A bullet in the head, and that's the end of it.

Stay on the line, though.

It makes me feel less lonely.

It comforts me.

- Am I stressing you out, or am I comforting you?

That's not quite the same.

- There's a car coming.

This is it. Stop talking.

- Okay, Kevin.

This is super easy, and just super fun, okay?

You're gonna get out of the car,

and you're gonna walk over to the bag

that that man just put on the ground,

and then you're gonna put the gay magazine on the ground,

and then you take the bag,

and you bring it back to the car to Mommy, okay?

- Okay.

- Oh.

Don't shoot, Screw. It's a kid.

Really young.

Abandon the plan.

- Man, that's the worst exchange I've ever seen.

A kid? A magazine?

What the fuck?

I was expecting some dangerous guys here.

- Me too.

I didn't know it was gonna be a kid.

- You're such a jerk.

You know, I should have known.

Don't ask me again, Sunshine, okay?

You're on your own with your shit.

- I'm sorry. Okay, look�

- Ciao.

- I'm sorry.

- Come on.

[upbeat techno music]

? ?

? ?

- [gasps]

Jesus fucking Christ.

? ?

[music stops]

- [sighs]

Okay.

I'm going to be honest with you guys.

I love your style.

I think this marketing idea is fantastic.

The�the black, one-eyed, slightly monstrous cop

and the dying, apathetic guy.

That's spot-on.

That could be great for videos and the press.

Now, that really works.

And... [laughs]

I love the idea of the funny costumes.

Very out there. I like that.

- What funny costumes?

What are you talking about?

- Let me finish.

- Okay, sorry. Go ahead.

[clears throat]

- Marketing is 95% of the job.

You know, it's fantastic that you're ready

to take it to that level.

It's pretty rare, even.

Your visual approach has huge potential.

I'm not denying that.

That�that could be really huge, but to get there,

you're missing an important detail.

- Oh.

Uh, what's that?

- The remaining 5% : talent.

I'm sorry.

Your song is a huge pile of shit.

It won't go anywhere.

- No.

It's not shit.

I think you're wrong.

- Uh, I think I know my job.

I've been in the business for 30 years.

I have rarely heard anything that bad.

I mean, guys, you got to get back into the studio.

Seriously. This song is bad.

Believe me.

- You can't trash the song

with your radical judgments.

I've been working like crazy on this for two months.

- What does that mean?

Did you know Michael Jackson recorded Thriller

in ten minutes?

- Oh, really?

I don't think so.

- Uh, I-I do think so.

I know the engineer who worked on the recording.

I can get him on the phone right now.

He'll confirm it. Ten minutes flat.

It's not the amount of time you spend on it that matters.

It's talent.

All right, yeah, sure,

it's nice to have funny costumes

and spend two months on a song,

but without talent...

what's the point, guys?

- What costumes?

We're not wearing funny costumes.

I'm really a cop. That's my job.

This guy's really dying.

It's not an ad campaign.

We're not trying to be cool or whatever.

We are for real.

[snaps fingers]

- Okay. Mm-hmm.

Well, that's even worse than I thought.

You've just lost the stylish 95% .

Shit, that�that�

Okay, that brings you down to nothing.

What a waste of time.

Why didn't you warn me earlier?

Come on. Guys, wake up.

Nobody wants to buy music from some one-eyed cop

and an apathetic piece of trash.

- Produce my song.

It's no worse than any other.

I know it's not the biggest hit of the year,

but it is a good song.

Produce it.

Please.

You can keep the rights to the song.

I don't care.

I'm not doing this for the money.

- You know what?

Get the fuck out of my office,

you and your dumb friend.

Get the fuck out of here!

I've had enough of you.

Okay?

- I think...

I left the hose on

in my garden.

I've got to get home.

If I don't,

it'll be such a waste.

- [sighs]

[sighs]

- It'll be such a waste.

- [sniffs]

[light instrumental music]

[upbeat music]

- [woman on radio] Loves the saxophone--

- ? You're gone and I-- ?

[upbeat instrumental music]

[lively techno music]

? ?

[pounds on door]

- Hey, asshole! Open up!

Rough!

Open up!

- His door's always unlocked.

- Rough!

Are you there, buddy?

What the fuck are you doing

all dressed in your bathtub?

- I wanted to kill myself.

- What?

- Okay, then what?

- Then he took me� he duct-taped�

he used�he�then he put gray duct tape on me

and took me to someplace�

his house�

and it was disgusting.

- And where is this house, exactly?

- I have no idea.

On a street?

- On a street. Okay.

Anything else?

- And then he takes off all of his clothes,

undresses down to his underwear,

starts playing some horrible music

very loud.

I have no idea why he was in his underwear.

It was probably the most disturbing moment

of my entire life.

[upbeat techno music]

? ?

- Can you feel it?

Can you hear it now?

This is what I call music!

Can you feel the beat?

This is real music, David Dolores Frank!

? ?

- I really can't stay, sir.

I have homework to do.

- Forget your damn homework!

Listen to this, for fuck's sake!

This is more important!

Can you feel it?

You have to listen with your gut!

This is where music happens.

Do you understand what I'm saying?

In your guts!

In your organs!

Africa!

You understand?

- Yes.

- Good!

[music stops]

That's lesson number one.

You have any questions?

Hey!

David Dolores Frank!

Come back here!

Oh!

I'm not done with you!

[gunshot]

- Mm-hmm.

- Why aren't you using a typewriter?

ln movies, they use typewriters.

You're writing it with a pen,

and you're not using a typewriter.

Why aren't you using a typewriter?

- We're not in a movie, David Dolores Frank,

and we don't have typewriters here at the police station.

That's bullshit.

- Okay, it's not a movie.

- Now I'm gonna show you a photo,

and I want you to tell me

if you recognize the man you're talking about.

Here.

- I'd prefer if you referred to him

as my "aggressor,"

not "the man."

- Your aggressor, if you prefer.

- Yeah, it's important,

Because he's not a normal person.

- Take a look at the photo

and tell me if you see your aggressor there.

- Okay.

- I need to show you something.

- What? - Come.

- Now? - Yes.

Come on. - Okay.

- You are not going to believe this.

- Oh...my...God.

How much is in here?

- $13,000. Isn't that crazy?

- Oh, shit.

Where did you get this?

- That's my business.

- Fuck! - Crazy, isn't it?

- Give me some.

- No! Are you stupid or what?

Give it back!

- Do you know how much fucking money

you have in here, bitch?

Give me some! - Are you crazy?

That's my money! Stop it!

- You're acting like a real fucking bitch here!

Give me some! - No!

[blow lands] - Ohh!

Ugh!

- Screw you!

- [groans]

- That's the one. That's him.

I recognize him. That is the man.

- Out.

- W-why?

Why?

[laughter]

- Get out. - Us?

- What? - Get the fuck out!

- Wait, whoa, whoa.

- Get out!

- Ow!

- Aah!

Motherfucking bitch!

Ooh!

[cell phone rings]

[line rings]

[ringing continues]

- Yes?

- Hey, it's Duke.

- Hi.

- So, you�re alive.

- Yes, I'm alive.

I'm fine. [sniffs]

- You sound strange.

Why are you breathing like that?

- That's nothing.

I'm just cold. Nothing.

- So are you finished with your bullshit now or what?

- Yeah.

I tell you, I'm fine.

[breathes heavily]

- Good..

If I ever see you

in such a homo state of weakness again,

I will kill you myself.

Do you understand?

- Do that.

That works for me.

- Be a man, Rough!

Fag.

What the fuck are you doing?

Why don't you raise the shutter

instead of crawling out like a fucking lizard?

- It's broken. It won't open anymore.

I need to get it fixed.

- [chuckling] God.

You Chinese people.

You make me laugh.

You're really good salespeople,

but for everything else,

you really are big dweebs.

Get the fucking thing fixed!

This is ridiculous!

- I'll take care of it.

Geez. Here.

- How many do we have this time?

- There's been a little problem.

It's not the usual.

- What do you mean?

- [sighs]

Look, I can't catch the rats anymore.

I-I think they figured out how my trap works.

It's over.

I didn't catch a single one this week.

- Wait a minute.

You want me to sell the dope in this?

You can't be fucking serious.

- Why not?

It�it's kind of the same.

It's the same size.

You can put it in your pocket like a rat.

It's the same.

- It's disgusting to touch!

It stinks!

Are you sick?

Are you trying to kill my business?

Fucking fish?

- I can't help it, Duke.

I'm telling you, I can't catch the rats anymore.

They're too smart.

[engine grinding]

- Shit!

[engine hissing]

[hissing]

Fucking...piece of...shit!

[sighs]

[solemn music]

? ?

? ?

? ?

[thud]

- [gasps]

[breathes heavily]

Fuck.

- Daddy?

What is this?

- Oh, no.

Oh, no!

No.

[grunts] - [screams]

- [gurgling]

[grunting]

[car approaching]

[muffled electronic music]

? ?

[tires screech]

[lighter clicks]

[taps on glass]

- Hey, there.

How are you?

- I'm great.

I'm not the guy who's dead,

so I can't complain.

What do you want?

- You think I could get a hit off that joint?

Cemeteries stress me out,

and I think a little toke would help.

- Yeah, you know, this is not actually smoking

just for the hell of it.

I'm testing a new weed,

so I have to smoke the whole joint

to test the quality, you know?

- I understand.

- Sorry.

- Not a problem.

[breathing deeply]

Is that your joint that smells like fish?

- No.

[dramatic music]

? ?

No one has told me anything.

What happened, exactly?

- He stabbed himself in the throat

with some garden tool.

- Oh, fuck, no.

- Disgusting.

- That's tough, though. - Yeah.

- Shh!

- Hey, leave us alone.

- Yeah, why don't you go suck each other's balls

and leave us alone?

- No, we don't do that.

You should show some respect.

This is a funeral, God damn it.

[casket thuds]

- Okay, everybody.

Listen up. I'm sorry.

My wife's right in the middle of giving birth,

so I'm not gonna be able to hang around forever here.

Um...

[clears throat]

I have a prepared speech.

Don't know where the hell it is now.

[chuckles]

Um, anyway, uh...

I'm not really very good at this kind of bullshit,

but what I can say is,

Simon William Shine, also known as Sunshine,

took his own life into his hands.

And as I speak to you now,

his tormented soul

is most certainly on its way to hell,

since, as we all know,

anyone who goes against God's will

ends up in hell.

So, Sunshine...

I salute you.

You will forever remain in our hearts,

and I wish you a good journey.

- Excuse me, Captain.

I don't want to offend you,

but you were just saluting the sky,

and hell is under our feet, underground.

- Yeah, I know that.

It just seems more natural

to salute the soul of the departed

towards the sky rather than toward the ground.

Don't you agree? It's more poetic.

- I don't think so.

[scoffs] It looks weird.

- Oh, it's even weirder to salute the ground.

Look. Huh?

"Hi!

Have a nice trip down to hell, buddy!"

Huh? Right?

- Okay, I take it back.

You're right. Sorry.

- Well, if you want my opinion, Captain,

I think we have the wrong idea about hell,

just exactly like we have the wrong idea

about paradise.

- What do you mean by that, Duke?

- I mean, I'm a Christian,

but I've learned to not believe

those things we're told

in those old books.

You have to read between the lines and decipher,

because, in reality,

hell is here.

This world that we walk around in,

that we live in every day,

is hell.

We have invisible flames around us.

You can't see them,

but we all have invisible flames around us.

We get burned every day, but we just don't realize it.

I mean, we are just miserable slaves to nature.

- Duke, I don't think anyone wants to hear

what you're saying right now.

Wouldn't you rather just say a little word about Sunshine?

[chuckles]

- Yeah, well, I was getting to it, Andy.

I mean, I think...

I think that Sunshine left hell for a better place.

I think that we are the dead, and he is alive.

I mean, I know it sounds weird, kind of, said like that,

but I do believe that.

And we should not cry for Sunshine, my brothers.

We should cry for ourselves,

because we are in hell.

[tense music]

? ?

[breathes heavily]

Wow.

[clears throat]

Wait a minute.

That is a wild ride I was on.

[breathes heavily]

I am so stoned right now.

Shit.

[indistinct chatter]

[cork pops]

- Thanks.

You dick!

- I wanted to tell you

that what you said about hell...

that was beautiful.

I loved listening to you.

- Well, I'm glad you liked it, ma'am.

I just made it up.

[chuckles]

Uh, who�who are you again?

- I'm Sunshine's wife.

- Ah.

[chuckles] Oh, yeah.

Okay, I see.

- And I think you're completely right.

We really do live in hell.

I love this theory.

It�it allows you to consider death differently.

It's a very powerful idea.

- Hmm.

- [echoing] And I think you should write a book...

- I've forgotten what you just said.

[chuckles]

- I said I-I think you should write a book

on your theory.

It's a very interesting subject,

and you seem to master it.

- Yeah, see,

I don't know how to explain this.

Your words go in my ears,

but then they don't make it to the processor.

- Do you want me to repeat it again?

- [sniffing] No.

Hey, wow. Hang on.

Who�who smells like bad fish? Is that you?

- Oh, no. No, it's not.

I think it's you.

- Wow, what a gross, horrible stench.

[sniffs] No. No, no.

[sniffs] No, it's not me.

Hey, who's that?

Who's that little bitch over there?

Maybe it's her.

- That is my daughter.

Watch your language.

- Well, I think it's her.

- You're the one who stinks, you dickhead.

Come on, Mom. Let's go.

Don't talk to that guy.

- Yeah, fuck off!

Psh. Write a book.

Write a book about what?

[dramatic music]

? ?

Hey.

Hey!

Write a book about what?

Write a book about what?

Write a book about what?

- Well, like I told you,

this could be a big hit.

I think.

[upbeat techno music]

? ?

- I like it.

- Yeah.

Yeah, this has got a great groove.

How do you do that?

Oh, this is a killer.

- Well, it's about the feeling.

It's all about the feeling.

- You have some good feeling.

It's supercool.

I love it.

- Thank you. That makes me happy.

- Oh, it just makes me want to be in a dance club.

Only guys, though, no girls.

Yeah, just guys dancing everywhere.

- [stammers] Really?

- Yeah.

Definitely no chicks.

This is a song just for guys.

- Totally, totally. Just dudes.

- Okay.

Okay.

- [exhales] Wow.

? ?