Original subtitles

Oh! Love it!

"Trouble"! One of the greatest Elvis songs of all time.

How was the sound?

Hell yeah. Felt great.

But since that song's about beating the shit out of somebody,

which is great in its own way,

maybe we try something more...

Christmassy?

Yeah. I'm having kinda second thoughts about the whole Christmas angle.

I hear you. Great. Good thought.

So, let's try one with Tiny Tim and the Elvis Elves.

Thoughts?

Ladies.

Oh, for fuck's sake, Scatter.

I guess "Wait in the limo" is a little too open-ended, huh?

What the hell?

You said we'd get to hang out with Elvis.

Now, you realize that vest has pockets, right?

Hello?

Oh hey, baby. Did I call too late?

Only for one of us, and she's sound asleep.

Well, give her a kiss for me, will you?

You sound tired, baby. You doing okay?

I don't know, 'Cilla.

Feels like the world out there is going insane, and I'm stuck here

doing a shitty Christmas show the Colonel locked me into.

Aw, I'm sure the show will be great.

Yeah. You mean the one with the Elvis Elves?

Come on. "Elvis Elves"?

Trust me, it's actually worse than it sounds.

No way.

Hello? 'Cilla?

Hey, ace, what happened to the phone?

Sorry, just trying to speed things up.

Speed what up?

My job. Killing you.

Oh, and for whatever reason,

they wanted you to hear this while you, you know, die.

Did he just say, "Killing me"?

Goulet?

Well, this fucking day just keeps getting better and better.

Damn it, Scatter! You shot me!

I swear to God, I should have never gotten out of bed this morning.

Oh what, huh?

I'm not allowed to have a bad day?

Aw, shit!

Look here, pal. I've had a shit day, so I'm gonna go ahead and kick your ass.

Hyah!

Huh? What in the hell?

Holy shit. Is that Elvis?

♪ For the next three weeks I went hunting them nights ♪

♪ Just looking for a place to play... ♪

♪ But nobody wanted to hire a guitar man ♪

♪ I run out of money and luck So I bought me a ride ♪

♪ Down to Macon, Georgia... ♪

♪ Started picking out Some of them all-night bars ♪

♪ Hoping I could make myself a dollar Making music on my guitar ♪

♪ I got the same old story At them all-night piers ♪

♪ You know there ain't no room around here For a guitar man ♪

Sorry about that.

Oh my God, Elvis. That was amazing.

What was all that?

Oh that? Yeah.

You know, that... That was a rehearsal.

It's what I'm doing for my new TV show.

Jesus, is that guy okay?

Oh yeah, that's just fake blood, everybody.

And that there is fake, uh...

Well, whatever that is. And...

What's the new show called?

Rise and shine, asshole.

Oh, where am I?

Oh, you are fucking dead. I'll fucking...

Jesus Christ.

You gotta be dumber than a mud fence to be talking right now.

That's my friend, Bobby Ray.

You might want to listen to him.

Which house rule am I thinking about right now?

Definitely not the one about personal space.

You promised none of your vigilante nonsense in this house, remember?

Won't even know we're here, Miss Bertie.

Hey, when I get out of this, I'm gonna fucking...

More or less.

Mm.

That was Bertie, my rock.

Runs everything around here, known me since I was in diapers.

And speaking of diapers, you see my chimp, Scatter, over there with the hand cannon?

That is a problem for you, friend.

You see, I decided a while ago,

I wasn't gonna just sit around while this country's torn apart

by all the chaos, the dirtbag hippies, the drugs, the crime.

No, no, no, not on my watch.

But Scatter here?

Hell, he just does it because he gets off to it.

Not where I was going with that.

You know, here's an idea.

Maybe try not being disgusting all the time,

including in the hot tub that you clogged with your damn monkey spunk.

That filter looked like a war crime!

Look at me. Here and now is where you tell me who sent you to kill me.

Fuck you, singer boy.

They're not paying me to talk.

They? Well, who the hell's "they"?

Now you listen to me, scumbag. I promise you Scatter's going to pull that trigger...

Oh fuck!

"If"!

Goddamn it, Scatter. I was gonna say, "If" he didn't talk!

Not sticking up for the chimp here, boss, but it was a little confusing.

So...

is this me not knowing you're here?

Just a little hiccup, Miss Bertie.

Just a little hiccup. Everything's fine.

Though technically the living room has seen better days.

You know, there are ways

to turn you into a quarter-sleeve cardigan.

You need to clean this up, now.

Because that sweater thing sounded real specific.

Yeah. Like I know where the mop is.

Pull!

I swear this crime-fighting crap's gonna get you killed one day.

Yeah, but this one wasn't my fault.

The guy with the exploded head started the whole damn thing.

Just like that, huh?

All I know is somebody wants me dead.

Pull!

You know, my money's on them Bolivians.

Negatory.

All those guys are not really around anymore.

What is that? A to-go bag?

Put that shit back.

Hey! What about that mob guy you ran into in Miami

when you were doing that Sinatra show?

Definitely not him.

There's that biker gang from last month.

Not after that explosion, there isn't.

Or maybe just another jealous husband

sick of his wife flooding her basement every time you're on the TV... Ow!

Doesn't really narrow it down, does it?

Besides, though, this felt different. This guy... This guy was a pro.

You even hear yourself?

I promised your mama I was gonna look after you,

but if she was alive today, she'd...

Say, "Thank you, Elvis, for trying to make the world a better place."

"You're such a good boy, Elvis. How about a snack?"

Oh, and then Mom would probably cover her ears,

because this is going to get real loud.

Wait, wait, wait! Check it out, E.

Got bored and souped up a pair of your sunglasses for you.

Yeah.

Watch this.

Hang on.

What happened to all the Christmas stuff? There was a bunch of tinsel and shit.

I'm taking this thing over.

It's not gonna be a Christmas special anymore.

Well, what then?

Glad you asked, buddy.

Because if I can dream, this show's gonna make a statement.

- A statement? - Damn straight.

Just full-tilt rock and roll, boys,

how we used to do it before all the movies and all the bullshit.

Now, that, my chiseled friend, is what I'm talking about.

Just you and the boys cranking it out.

Already got Scotty and DJ on a plane.

- Blowing the fucking doors off. - Always.

If we deck this place out with, like, a shit-ton of balloons...

- What? - ...multicolored streamers,

and... Ooh! Bunting.

Absolutely not. Go get the car.

Excuse me.

Well, well, well. Lady One, Lady Two, Lady Three.

Yes, ma'am, yes, ma'am, and yes, ma'am. Now, how'd you get in here?

Any chance we can get a picture?

Well, sure thing, you bet. Come here now.

Okay, last one, I swear.

Sure, anything for the fans.

Which you, apparently, are not.

Okay, piggy, let's see those teeth.

- Say... - Wait. I think I know this one.

Cheese, dipshits!

Hyah!

Now that's what I'm talking about.

That was fucking weird, huh?

- What the hell was all that? - Just doing my job.

- Sorry? - Don't be. Later, gator!

Uh, okay.

I have a few notes.

You mind telling me what the hell's going on?

Okay, this is gonna sound a little/extremely weird, but

you're on a kill list.

I know. Sucks, am I right?

Hey, what's up, boss man?

Think I might be on a kill list.

Hmm. Well, that sucks.

Scatter, you got her?

Oh, you sure this is a good idea, E?

When someone says, "Kill list," I've got a few follow-up questions.

No. I mean, trusting the chimp to track some woman's... lady parts scents.

Scatter's got it.

Does he? Because last time we tried this,

we ended up at Gloria Steinem's crawfish boil.

You boys stay with the car,

which means not buying coked-up hookers, he said really clearly this time.

If I'm not back in five, come and get me.

Mr. Presley?

You got room for one more?

Of course, sir. Let me just check.

At ease, ace. Wasn't really asking.

Now, there she is. Never got your name.

No. And there's a reason for that.

I want some answers.

No, I think what you really want is the scallops mimosa. Oh!

- Sorry? - Oh God, you won't be. Trust me.

First time I tried some, so good I literally shit my pants.

You know, hearing that out loud, they may have been undercooked...

- Skip to the kill list. - Oh, that.

- Yeah, somebody wants you dead. - Who?

The name Charlie Manson mean anything to you?

Ooh. Oh, you are bad!

Oh no. Don't you fucking do it, Jughead!

Hey there, daddy-o. Borrow a light?

Ooh! Yes, ma'am. You can borrow whatever the hell you want:

a light, my car keys, my spleen.

We'll borrow you too, while we're at it, Jack.

Don't just stand there, pick him up!

Am I talking to myself here?

That wasn't rhetorical. I'm really asking. I've got six voices in my head right now.

Absolute psychopath...

...who, small side note, technically just kidnapped your friend.

- What? - The one not wearing a diaper. Bobby Ray.

Oh, the fucking waiter just tell you that?

"Oh, did the fucking waiter..." Yeah. We've got eyes everywhere. Creepy, right?

You're not kidding. Where'd they take him?

- Can't tell you that. - You're coming with me.

And cancel dinner with a not-too-clingy radiologist

with size 13 shoes and a beach house?

I don't think so.

Try again.

Mm. Careful.

You don't look like an honorary Shelby County deputy to me.

You mind telling me why Dean Martin has a .38 aimed at my head?

That feels like a you problem.

Well, speaking of "you problems,"

if this Manson guy really did take Bobby Ray...

...then you're about to see why we don't let Scatter drive. Ever.

Let's take a ride.

Hey!

It's called Spahn Ranch.

It used to be a movie set for old westerns.

Huh. Looks like nobody's home.

No? Well, "nobody" sure has a lot of horses.

Good point.

No shit. Trust me. This is home base for Manson and his people.

So, now can we cool it with whatever the fuck this is?

Oh. Don't mind if I do.

You're my new favorite.

Only one way to find out.

You can get out now.

Hey, what do you think you're do...

Uh, what am I doing? My job, which is keeping you unmurdered.

And more importantly, getting high with a monkey.

Either way, can we hurry this up?

So boring. You know your friend's already dead...

Hey, let me tell you something.

Bobby Ray grew up in the backwoods,

where the only things to do were making moonshine and catching rabies.

Uh-huh.

And what is your insanely grim point here?

Bobby Ray is a survivor.

Stay here.

Done.

Goddamn it, Bobby Ray.

Sweet mother of God.

Hey! Hey, they may be coming back soon.

So let's get you out of here.

What? No, I mean to fuck me again.

Seriously, E, these batshit-crazy free-love chicks are on fire.

Uh, is that blood?

Okay, yeah, the sex got a little dark. Not proud of it, but I'd do it again.

What in the hell is that?

Whoa, whoa, easy with the gun, man.

What's with all the hostility?

You assholes kidnapped my friend.

Kidnapped?

Who are you, the charred remains of my last lawyer?

No, we just borrowed your friend to get you here.

Now, relax, grab a seat.

We're all friendly here.

- Join us. - Come join us, man.

- Right. - Hey, E?

Maybe let's get the hell out of here.

So, you gonna introduce us to your fun new friends?

- Just fucking drive, Bobby Ray. - Yep!

Step on it. Maybe I can still make dinner with Dr. Timmy and his insanely big...

What?

Nice nap?

What the hell is this?

Oh, this?

This is the gallows they used filming Linda and Abilene,

an underappreciated psychosexual western.

And these folks here?

These are my people, man!

Thank you, yes!

So are they here to just fuck around in the dirt or to watch you try and kill me?

Kill you? Oh no, brother. What the hell are you talking about?

- The kill list. - Ugh.

I told Bloodlust Charlie not to call it that.

But then Angry Charlie told me, "Shut the fuck up!"

- No, you shut up. - You shut up!

- Be quiet. - Whose voice is that?

Everyone be quiet.

Shh.

Nothing completely insane about any of that.

Can I go now?

Sure.

Well, assuming you want to join the family.

Family? What fucking family?

We're all brothers and sisters here, man.

We're a family. Seriously.

Jerry over there does the dishes.

Martha's in charge of snacks.

Frank gets the drugs.

Betty over there, well, she gets drugs too.

Actually, pretty much everybody else gets drugs.

Don't forget to get drugs, everybody!

Now, I know what you're thinking.

You're worried you might not fit in.

Losing sleep over it.

You just got to give it time, man.

After we force-feed you LSD for three straight months,

I promise you, you're gonna feel the love.

And by that, I mean we fuck each other constantly, am I right?

Yeah, bravo. Afraid I'm not your guy.

Of course you are. Don't you get it?

Pretend I don't.

You and me, we're the same.

We're both electric personalities, making music that'll change the world.

- Music? - With the help of you

and everybody else on this list, I'm going all the way to the top.

What the hell are you...

Sweet mother of God.

Does that answer your question?

- Not the way I think you wanted. - So what do you say?

Yes. Say yes.

I'd say, if I wanted to hang out with a bunch of shitbag hippies,

I'd return Dennis Hopper's phone calls.

- E! - Oh, goddamn it.

You know, I'm not so much angry as I am disappointed.

I blame myself, really.

The king piggy goes down, man.

Charlie! Charlie! Charlie!

Hey.

You owe me a new badge, dickhead.

Oh God. Oh Daddy, is anything broken?

Get him.

Okay, some of those seem awfully big to keep in your pants.

Huh. Well, that's new.

They're not going down!

They're like hippie zombies!

Even better.

They're so high, they can't feel a thing.

It's beautiful, man!

Blah, blah, blah! God, it's nonstop with that guy.

No! Let go!

Shit.

Hey, jackass. This...

This is why I didn't want to come here.

No!

Fucking animals!

Look what you did to my beautiful family.

Now you have to pay.

- Huh. Okay. - A grenade?

Ah!

Planet of the Apes. God, he loves that movie.

Aw, fuck.

You killed my sister/daughter-wife!

You fucking ass...

Say, I've been meaning to ask you. Nice outfit. What kind of leather's that?

- Italian. I'm not an animal. - Where do you get something like that?

With your waistline? You don't.

You sure we can't give you a ride?

Nope, nope. Got some cleaning up to do. Don't worry, we got people.

"We" being...?

- Good luck with the show. - Hey, speaking of... Bobby Ray!

- Yo! - Score our new friend here some tickets.

Oh. Thanks, but no, thanks.

Not a big rock and roll fan, huh?

Sure, sure, let's go with that.

Definitely my favorite.

♪ ...of a better land ♪

♪ Where all my brothers Walk hand in hand ♪

♪ Tell me why, oh why ♪

♪ Oh why can't my dream come true? ♪

♪ Oh why? ♪

♪ There must be peace and understanding ♪

♪ Sometime ♪

♪ Strong winds of promise ♪

♪ That will blow away ♪

♪ All the doubt and fear ♪

♪ If I can dream ♪

♪ Of a warmer sun... ♪

So,

you think he's ready?

You tell me, boss. How'd he do on your little fake limo assassin test?

Yeah, um, been meaning to talk to you about that.

- What? - Were you and Doug... close?

I don't know, we were kinda dating, mostly over-the-pants stuff, why?

Mm. Mm-hmm.

Well, because I gave Doug the limo assignment, and it didn't go...

Gosh, what's the word?

Uh, perfectly.

Oh. He's a big boy. He'll be fine.

Well... ...maybe I'm underselling this a bit.

The monkey shot him in the face and blew his head off.

Seriously?

Yes. I'm making my serious face.

Meh. He was kind of a dick anyway.

♪ Oh, let it come true right now ♪

♪ Oh yeah ♪

♪ Oh yeah ♪

Thank you, and good night.