All language subtitles for Reservoir.Dogs.1992.2160p.UHD.BluRay.x265.10bit.HDR.TrueHD.5.1-RARBG

Downloaded from RARBG

Let me tell you
what "like a virgin“ is about.

It's all about a girl
who digs a guy with a big dick.

The entire song,
it's a metaphor for big dicks.

No, it ain't. It's about a girl
who's very vulnerable.

She's been fucked over a few times

and then she meets a guy
who's very sensitive.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Time out, green bay.

Tell that fucking bullshit
to the tourists.

Toby? Who the fuck is Toby?

"Like a virgin" is not
about some sensitive girl

who meets a nice fella.

That's what "true blue" is about.
Granted, no argument about that.

Which one is "true blue"?

You ain't heard "true blue"?
It was a big-ass hit from Madonna.

I don't even follow
that tops of the pop shit

and even I've heard of "true blue."

Asshole, I didn't say I ain't heard of it.
What I asked is how's it go.

Excuse me for not being
the world's biggest Madonna fan.

Personally, I can do without her.

I used to like her early stuff,
"borderline."

But when she got off with that
"papa don't preach" phase, I tuned out.

You guys are making me
lose my train of thought here.

I was saying something. What was it?

Oh, Toby's that little Chinese girl.

- What was her last name?
- What's that?

It's an old address book I found in a coat
I haven't worn in a coon's age.

What was that name?

What the fuck was I talking about?

You said “true blue“ was about a guy, uh...

A sensitive girl who meets a nice guy,

but "like a virgin"
was a metaphor for big dicks.

Okay. Let me tell you
what "like a virgin“ is about.

It's all about this cooze
who's a regular fuck machine.

I'm talking morning,
day, night, afternoon.

Dick, dick, dick, dick, dick,
dick, dick, dick, dick.

- How many dicks is that?
- A lot.

Then one day, she meets
this John Holmes motherfucker,

and it's like, whoa, baby.

This cat is like Charles Bronson
in the great escape.

He's digging tunnels.

She's getting serious dick action

and she's feeling something
she ain't felt since forever.

Pain. Pain.

Chu? Toby chu?

It hurts. It hurts her.
It shouldn't hurt her.

Her pussy should be bubble yum by now,
but when this cat fucks her, it hurts.

It hurts just like it did the first time.

You see, the pain
is reminding a fuck machine

what it was once like to be a virgin.

Hence, "like a virgin."

Wong.

Give me that fucking thing.

What the hell do you think you're doing?
Give me my book back.

I'm sick of fucking hearing it, Joe.
I'll give it back to you when we leave.

What do you mean when we leave?
Give me it back now.

For the past 15 minutes now,
you've been droning on about names.

"Toby".

Toby? Toby?

Toby wong.

Toby wong? Toby wong.

Toby chung? Fucking Charlie chan."

I've got Madonna's big dick
coming out of my left ear

and Toby the jap i-don't-know—what
coming out of my right.

Give me that book.

Are you gonna put it away?

I'm gonna do whatever the fuck
I want with it.

Well, then I'm afraid
I'm gonna have to keep it.

Hey, Joe, want me to shoot this guy?

Shit.

You shoot me in a dream,
you better wake up and apologize.

Have you guys been listening

to k-Billy's super sounds
of the '70s weekend?

Oh, yeah, man. That's fucking great.

Can you believe the songs
they've been playing?

You know what I heard the other day?
"Heartbeat, it's a love beat"

by little Tony defranco
and the defranco family.

I haven't heard that song
since I was in the fifth fuckin' grade.

When I was coming down here,

"the night the lights
went out in georgia“ came on.

I... I ain't heard that song
since it was big.

When it was big, I must have heard it
a million trillion fucking times.

This is the first time I ever realized

that the girl singing the song
is the one who shot Andy.

You didn't know Vicki Lawrence
was the one who shot Andy?

I thought it was the cheating wife
shot Andy.

Yeah, but they say that
at the end of the song.

I know, motherfucker. I just heard it.
That's what I'm talking about.

I must have zoned out
during that part before.

All right. I'll take care of the check.

You guys can get the tip.

Should be about a buck apiece.

And you, when I come back, I want my book.

Sorry. It's my book now.

Hey, I changed my mind.

Shoot this piece of shit, will you?

All right. Everybody cough up
some green for the little lady.

Come on. Throw in a buck.

Uh-uh. I don't tip.

You don't tip?

No, I don't believe in it.

You don't believe in tipping.

You know what these chicks make?
They make shit.

Don't give me that. She don't
make enough money, she can quit.

I don't even know a fucking Jew
who'd have the balls to say that.

Let me just get this straight.
You don't ever tip, huh?

I don't tip because
society says I have to.

I mean, I'll tip if somebody
really deserves a tip.

If they really put forth the effort,
I'll give them something extra.

But this tipping automatically,
uh, it's for the birds.

As far as I'm concerned,
they're just doing their job.

- Hey, this girl was nice.
- She was okay.

- She wasn't anything special.
- What's special?

Take you in the back and suck your dick?

I'd go over 12% for that.

Hey, look. I ordered coffee, right?

We've been here a long fucking time.
She's only filled my cup three times.

When I order coffee,
I want it filled six times.

Six times?
Well, what if she's too fucking busy?

Words "too fucking busy"
shouldn't be in a waitress's vocabulary.

Excuse me, Mr. Pink,

but the last fucking thing you need
is another cup of coffee.

Jesus Christ, these ladies
aren't starving to death.

They make minimum wage.

I used to work minimum wage,
and when I did,

I wasn't lucky enough to have a job
that society deemed tip-worthy.

You don't care
they're counting on your tips to live?

You know what this is?

It's the world's smallest violin
playing just for the waitresses.

You don't have any idea
what you're talking about.

These people bust their ass.

This is a hard job.

So is working at McDonald's,

but you don't feel the need
to tip them, do you?

Why not? They're serving you food.

Society says, "don't tip these guys
over here, but tip these guys over here."

That's bullshit.

Waitressing is the number one occupation

for female noncollege graduates
in this country.

It's the one job basically
any woman can get and make a living on.

The reason is because of their tips.

Fuck all that.

Jesus Christ!

I'm very sorry the government
taxes their tips. That's fucked up.

But that ain't my fault.

It would appear that waitresses
are one of the many groups

the government fucks in the ass
on a regular basis.

I mean, show me a piece of paper

that says the government
shouldn't do that, I'll sign it.

Put it to a vote, I'll vote for it.
But what I won't do is play ball.

And this noncollege bullshit,
I got two words for that...

Learn to fucking type.

'Cause if you're expecting me
to help out with the rent,

you're in for a big fucking surprise.

He's convinced me. Give me my dollar back.

Hey!

Leave the dollars there.

All right, ramblers, let's get ramblin'.

Wait a minute. Who didn't throw in?

- Mr. Pink.
- Mr. Pink?

- Why not?
- He don't tip.

He don't tip?

What do you mean you don't tip?

- He don't believe in it.
- Shut up.

What do you mean you don't believe in it?

Come on, you.
Cough up a buck, you cheap bastard.

I paid for your goddamn breakfast.

All right, since you paid
for the breakfast, I'll put in,

but normally I would never do this.

Never mind what you normally would do.

Just cough in your goddamn buck
like everybody else.

Thank you.

That was the partridge family's

"doesn't somebody want to be wanted?"

Followed by Edison lighthouse's
"love grows"

As k—billy's super sounds
of the '703 weekend

just keeps on truckin'.

J” yeah j'

j” lookin' back on the track j“

j” for a little greenback j'

j” got to find just the kind j”

j” or I'm losin' my mind j”

j” out of sight in the night j”

j” out of sight in the day j”

j” lookin' back on the track j”

j” gonna do it my way j”

j” out of sight in the night j”

j” out of sight in the day j”

j” lookin' back on the track j”

j” gonna do it my way j”

j” lookin' back j'

J”ahhj”

j” lookin' for some happiness j'

j” but there is only loneliness to find j'

j” jump to the left j'

j” turn to the right j”

j” lookin' upstairs j'

j” lookin' behind j”

j” yeah j”

J” lookin' for some happiness j'

j” but there is only loneliness to find j'

j” jump to the left j'

j” turn to the right j”

- J” lookin' upstairs j”
-Oh, god!

-J” lookin' behind j” -oh, shit!

I'm gonna die!

I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die!

Just hold on, buddy boy!

I'm gonna die!

Hey!

I'm 3 o rry|

- I can't believe she killed me, man.
- Give me your hand.

Who would've fucking thought that?

Hey! Just cancel that shit right now!

You're hurt. You're hurt real fucking bad,
but you ain't dying!

I'm gonna die! I'm gonna...

- Oh, shit.
- Oh!

All this blood is scaring
the shit out of me, Larry!

- I'm gonna die! I know it!
- Oh!

Excuse me. I didn't realize
you had a degree in medicine.

Uh, a-are you a doctor?

Are you a doctor?

Answer me, please. Are you a doctor?

Huh?

- No, I'm not. I'm not.
- Okay.

So you admit you don't know
what you're talking about.

So if you're through giving me
your amateur opinion,

just lie back and listen to the news.

I'm taking you back to the rendezvous.

Joe's gonna get you a doctor.

The doctor's gonna fix you up,
and you're gonna be okay.

Now say it! You're gonna be okay.

Say it!

You're gonna be okay!

Say the goddamn words.
You're gonna be okay.

Oh, god!

Say the goddamn fucking words!

Say it!

I'm okay, Larry.

Correct!

Correct.

I'm okay.

Look where we are.

- Look where we are.
- Larry...

You gotta save me, man!

You gotta save me!

We're in the warehouse.

Who's a tough guy?

Who's a tough guy?

- Come on. Who's a tough guy?
- I'm a tough guy, Larry!

You're a tough guy.

You're a fucking tough guy.

Okay. Okay.

We're in the warehouse.

Look where we are. We made it.

We made it. We fucking made it.

We have fucking made it.

We're in the warehouse. Look where we are.

'Look where we are.

Just hold on, buddy boy. Hold on.

- Hold on. Hold on.
- Oh...

Shit!

Stop banging your head.

You're gonna bang
a fucking hole in the floor.

Yeah, you don't want to hurt
the fucking floor, do you?

I can't do anything for you,
but when Joe gets here,

which should be any time now,
he's gonna help you out.

He's gonna take care of you. Okay?

We're just gonna sit here,
we're gonna wait for Joe.

Who are we waiting for?

Joe.

Yeah, that's right.

Larry, I'm so fucking scared, man.

Would you please hold me?

Yeah, sure.

You go ahead and be scared.

You've been brave enough for one day.

I just want you to relax now, okay?

You're not gonna fucking die.
You're gonna be fine.

When Joe gets here,
he'll make you 100% again.

I'm hurt. I'm hurt bad, Larry.

It's not good. No.

Hey, Larry...

Bless your heart
for what you're trying to do.

I was panicking for a minute back there,

but I got my senses back now.

Situation is I'm shot in the belly.

Without medical attention, I'm gonna die.

Uh, I can't take you to a hospital.

Fuck jail, man!

You don't have to take me in.
Just drive me up to the front, man.

Just drop me on the sidewalk.
I'll take care of myself.

I won't tell them anything, man.
I won't tell them anything.

I swear to fucking god, man.

Just look in my eyes, Larry.
Look in my eyes.

I won't tell them anything.

You'll be safe, man.

You're not gonna fucking die, kid.
All right?

Listen to me. You're gonna be fine.

Along with the kneecap,

the gut is the most painful area
a guy can get shot in.

No shit.

But it takes a long time to die from it.

I'm talking days.

You're gonna wish you were dead,

but it takes days to die from your wound.

Time is on your side.

Was that a fucking setup or what?

Fucking right!

Shit! Orange got tagged?

Gutshot.

Fuck! Where's, uh, brown?

Dead.

Oh! How did he die?

How the fuck do you think?

The cops shot him.

This is bad. This is so fucking bad.

Is it bad?

As opposed to good?

Man, this is fucked up.

This is so fucked up.

Somebody fucked us up big time, man.

You really think we were set up?

Do you even doubt it, man?

I don't think we got set up,
I know we got set up.

Seriously, where did
all those cops come from, huh?

One minute, they're not there,
the next minute, they're there?

I didn't hear any sirens.

The alarm went off, okay.
When an alarm goes off,

you got an average
of four minutes response time.

Unless a patrol car is cruising
that street at that particular moment,

you got four minutes
before they can realistically respond.

In one minute,
there were 17 blue boys out there,

all loaded for bear, all knowing
exactly what the fuck they were doing.

They were all just there.

Remember that second wave
that showed up in the cars?

Those were the ones
responding to the alarm.

Those first motherfuckers,
I'm telling you, they were waiting for us.

Haven't you fucking thought about this?

I haven't had a chance to think.

First, I was just trying to
get the fuck out of there.

And after we got away,
I've just been dealing with him.

Let's start fucking thinking about it.
'Cause that's all I'm thinking about.

I wasn't even gonna come here.
I was gonna just drive off.

Because whoever set us up
knows about this place.

There could have been cops here
waiting for us.

There could be cops
coming here right now!

Let's go in the other room. Hey! In there.

Don't leave me!

I'm gonna die.

I'm just gonna be in that room.
Just over the other side.

I'll be right there, okay?

I'll be right there looking at you.

I'm right here looking at you, okay?

Lie down. Right in here. Right over there.

Larry.

I'm gonna fucking die.

Larry!

What the fuck am I doing here, man?

You know, I felt funny
about this job right off.

As soon as I felt it, I should have said,
"no, thank you," and walked,

but I didn't fucking listen.

It's like every time I got caught
buying weed, same thing.

I didn't trust the guy, felt funny
about him, but I wanted to believe him.

Because if he's not lying, and it really
is Thai stick, then it's great, right?

But no, it's never Thai stick.

I always said if I felt that way about
a job, I'd fucking walk and I didn't!

I didn't 'cause of the fucking money!

What's done is done. I need you cool.

Are you cool?

All right, I'm cool.

Splash some water on your face.

Take a breather.

Relax. Have a cigarette.

- I quit.
- All right.

Why, you got one?

Yeah.

Here you go. Have a chesterfield.

Thanks.

- Okay. Let's go through what happened.
- Okay.

We're in the place.
Everything's going fine.

- Then the alarm gets tripped.
- Right.

I turn around
and all these cops are outside.

You're right, because bam,
I blink my eyes, and they're there.

Everybody starts going apeshit.

Then Mr. Blonde
starts to shoot all the em...

That's not correct.

- What's wrong with it?
- Okay.

The cops did not show up
after the alarm went off.

The cops didn't show up until after
Mr. Blonde started shooting everybody.

As soon as I heard the alarm,
I saw the cops.

No, I'm telling you,
it wasn't that soon, okay?

They didn't let their presence be known
until after Mr. Blonde became a madman.

I'm not saying they weren't there.
I'm saying they were there.

But they didn't make their move

until after Mr. Blonde
started shooting everybody.

That's how I know we were set up.

Come on, Mr. White,
you... you could see that.

Look, look! Enough of this Mr. White shit.

Wait, wait, wait!
Don't tell me your fucking name!

I don't want to know it.

Jesus Christ, I ain't gonna tell you mine.

You're right. This is bad.

How did you get out?

I shot my way out.

Everybody started shooting,
so I blasted my way out of there.

Move it! Get out of the way!

Get the fuck out of the way!

Get the fuck out of the way!

- Move it!
- Get out of the way!

Jesus Christ!
What the fuck is your problem, man?

You fucking asshole!

Fuckeh -

Move!

Get down, Ernie!

Jesus!

Get out of the car!
Get the fuck out of the car!

Move it! Move out of the way!

I tagged a couple of cops.

- Did you kill anybody?
- A few cops.

No real people?

Just cops.

Man, could you believe Mr. Blonde?

That was the most insane fucking thing
I have ever seen.

Why the fuck would Joe
hire a guy like that?

I don't want to kill anybody.

If I gotta get out that door
and you're standing in my way,

one way or the other,
you're getting out of my way.

That's the way I look at it.

The choice between doing ten years
and taking out some stupid motherfucker...

Ain't no choice at all.

But I ain't no madman, either.

What the fuck was Joe thinking?

Can't work with a guy like that.

We're awful goddamn lucky he didn't tag us
when he shot the place up.

I came this close
to taking his ass out myself.

I mean, everybody panics. Everybody.

Things get tense.
It's human nature, you panic.

I don't care what your name is.
You can't help it.

Fuck, man, you panic on the inside.
In your head, you know?

You give yourself a couple of seconds.

You get a... you get a hold
of the situation. You deal with it.

What you don't do is start shooting up
the place and start killing people.

No. What you're supposed to do
is act like a fucking professional.

A psychopath ain't a professional.

Can't work with a psychopath.

You don't know what those sick assholes
are gonna do next.

I mean, Jesus Christ, how old
do you think that black girl was, 20?

- Maybe 21?
- If that.

Hey, look, did you see
what happened to anybody else?

Me and orange jumped in the car,
brown floored it.

After that, I don't know what went down.

Well, at that point,
it was every man for himself.

As far as Mr. Blonde and Mr. Blue
are concerned, I ain't got the foggiest.

'Cause once I got out,
I never looked back.

- What do you think?
- What do I think?

I mean, you know, the cops
either caught 'em or killed 'em.

No chance they punched through?
You found a hole.

Yeah, and that was a fucking miracle.

But even if they did get away,
then where the fuck are they?

You don't think it's possible one of them
got a hold of the diamonds and...

No. No way.

How can you be so sure?

I got the diamonds.

That's my boy.

- Where?
- I stashed 'em.

Look, if you want to come with me,

let's go get 'em right now,
right this second, man.

'Cause I think staying here, man,
we should have our fucking heads examined.

That was the plan. We meet here.

Then where the fuck is everybody?

I say the plan becomes null and void once
we find out we got a rat in the house.

We ain't got the slightest fucking idea
what happened to Mr. Blonde and Mr. Blue.

They could both be dead
or maybe they're arrested.

The cops could have 'em right now
at the station house, sweatin' 'em down.

They don't know our names, but they
could be singin' about this place.

I swear to god,
I think I'm fucking jinxed.

What?

Two jobs back, it was a four-man job.

We discovered one of the team
was an undercover cop.

No shit.

Thank god we discovered it in time.

Had to forget the whole thing,
just walk the fuck away from it.

So who's the rat this time?

Mr. Blue?

Mr. Brown?

Joe?

Listen, Joe set this whole thing up.
Maybe he set it up to set it up.

I don't buy it.

Me and Joe go back a long time.

I can tell you definitely, Joe don't know
a fucking thing about this bullshit.

Hey, look, I've known Joe
since I was a kid, okay?

And me saying he definitely
had nothing to do with it is ridiculous.

I can say I definitely didn't do it
'cause I know what I did or I didn't do,

but I cannot definitely say that
about anybody else

'cause I don't definitely know.

For all I know, you're the rat.

For all I know, you're the fucking rat!

All right! Now you're using
your fucking head!

For all we know, he's the rat.

Hey, that kid in there is dying
from a fucking bullet I saw him take,

so don't you be calling him a rat!

Look, I'm right, okay?

Somebody's a fucking rat.

Where's the commode in this dungeon?
I gotta take a squirt.

Go down the hall, make a left,
go up the stairs, and make a right.

By the way, how's Alabama?

Alabama? Hmm.

I haven't seen 'bama
in over a year and a half.

I thought you two were a team.

We were for a little while.

Did about four jobs together,
then decided to call it quits.

Why?

Mmm, you push that
woman-man thing too long

and it gets to you after a while.

What's she doing now?

She hooked up with frank mcgarr.
They've done a couple jobs together.

Hell of a woman. Good little thief.

So explain the telegram.

Five-man job,

busting in and busting out
of a diamond wholesaler's.

Can you move the ice afterwards?
I don't know nobody that can move ice.

No problem. We got guys waiting for it.

What happened to Marcellus spivey?
Didn't he always move your ice?

He's doing 20 years in susanville.

Twenty years? Holy god. What for?

Badluck.

I guess you could say that again.

What's the exposure like?

Two minutes tops,
but it's a tough two minutes.

Daylight during business hours,
dealing with the crowd.

But you'll have the guys
to deal with the crowd.

How many employees?

I'd say around 20. Security pretty lax.

They most usuallyjust deal in boxes.

You know, uncut stones
from the diamond syndicate.

But on this particular day,

they're getting a shipment
of polished stones from Israel.

They're like a way station, you know?

They're to get picked up the next day
and sent to Vermont.

No, they're not.

What's the cut, papa?

Juicy, junior.

Real juicy.

Hey, look, man, you do what you want.
I'm out of here, man.

I'm gonna check into a motel
for a few days.

You know, I'll lay low,
and I'll call Joe...

Oh, shit. Did he fucking die on us?

Huh? Is he dead or what?

He ain't dead.

What is it?

Scared the fucking shit out of me, man.
I thought he was dead for sure.

Without medical attention,
he will die for sure.

What are we gonna do, man?
We can't take him to a hospital.

Without medical attention,
that man might not live through the night.

The bullet in his belly is my fault.

While that might not mean Jack shit
to you, it means a hell of a lot to me.

First things first. Staying here is goofy.
We gotta book up.

What do you suggest we do, go to a hotel?

We got a guy shot in the belly.
He can't walk.

He bleeds like a stuck pig.

When he's awake, he screams in pain.

You got an idea, spit it out.

Joe could help.

We get in touch with Joe.

Joe could get him to a doctor.

Joe could get a doctor to come to see him.

Assuming we can trust Joe,
how are we gonna get in touch with him?

Huh? He's supposed to be here,
but he ain't,

which is making me very nervous
about being here.

Even if he is on the up-and-up,

I don't think he's gonna be
too happy with us, okay?

He planned a robbery,
and he's got a bloodbath on his hands now.

He's got dead cops,
dead robbers, dead civilians.

Jesus Christ, I... I tend to doubt
he's gonna have sympathy for our plight.

If I was him, I'd try and put as much
distance between me and this mess

as humanly possible.

Before you got here, Mr. Orange
was asking me to take him to a doctor,

to a hospital.

I don't like the idea
of turning him over to the cops,

but if we don't, he's gonna die.

He begged me to do it.

Well, all right, then I guess
we take him to a hospital.

If that's what he said, let's do it.

Since he don't know nothing about us,
I say it's his decision.

Well, he knows a little about me.

What?

Wait, wait.
You didn't tell him your name, did you?

I told him my first name
and where I was from.

Why?

I told him where I was from
a few days ago.

It was just a natural conversation.

What was telling him your name
when you weren't supposed to?

He asked.

We had just gotten away from the cops.
He just got shot.

It was my fault he got shot.

He's a fucking bloody mess.

He's screaming.

I swear to god, I thought
he was gonna die right then and there.

I'm trying to comfort him,

telling him not to worry,
everything is gonna be okay,

I'm gonna take care of him.

And he asked me what my name was.

I mean, the man was dying in my arms.

What the fuck was I supposed to do?

Tell him, "I'm sorry.
I can't give out that fucking information!

It's against the rules!

I don't trust you enough!"

Well, maybe I should've, but I couldn't.

- I don't...
- Fuck you, and fuck Joe!

Yeah, I'm sure it was a very beautiful
scene between you.

- Don't fucking patronize me!
- I got one question for you.

Do they have a sheet on you,
where you're from?

- Yeah!
- Well, that's that then, man.

Jesus Christ, I was worried about
mug shot possibilities as it was.

Now he knows a, your name,
b, what you look like,

c, where you're from,
and d, what your specialty is.

They're not gonna have to show him
a lot of pictures for him to pick you out.

I mean, that's it, right?

You didn't tell him anything else
that could narrow down the selection?

If I have to tell you again to back off,
me and you are gonna go round and round.

We ain't taking him to a hospital.

If we don't, he's gonna die.

And I'm very sad about that
but some fellas are lucky and some ain't.

What the fuck
are you touching me for, man?

You wanna fuck with me!
I'll show you who you're fucking with!

You want to shoot me, you piece of shit?
Go ahead. Take a shot.

Fuck you, white.

I didn't create this situation.
I'm dealing with it.

You're acting like
a first-year fucking thief.

I'm acting like a professional!

If they get him, they can get you.

They get you, they get closer to me,
and that can't happen!

You're looking at me like it's my fault?

I didn't tell him my name.
I didn't tell him where I was from.

Shit, 15 minutes ago
you almost told me your name.

Your buddy got us stuck
in a situation you created.

So if you want to throw bad looks
somewhere, throw 'em at a mirror!

You kids shouldn't play so rough.

Somebody's gonna start crying.

Mr. Blonde.

Shit. Fucking kicking me.

What happened to you?

I figured you were dead.

Hey! You okay?

Did you see what happened to blue?

We didn't know what happened
to you and blue.

That's what we were wondering about.
Come on, man.

Look, brown is dead,
orange got it in the belly.

Enough! Enough!

You better start talking, asshole,

'cause we got shit we need to talk about.

We're already freaked out.

We need you acting freaky
like we need a fucking bag on our hip.

Okay. Let's talk.

We think we got a rat in the house.

I guarantee we got a rat in the house.

What makes you say that?

Is that supposed to be funny?

Look, we think this place ain't safe.

This place just ain't secure anymore.
We're leaving. You should go with us.

Nobody's going anywhere.

Piss on this fucking turd!

We're out of here.

Don't take another step, Mr. White.

Fuck you, maniac!

It's your fucking fault
we're in this trouble.

What's this guy's problem?

What's my problem?

Yeah, I got a fucking problem.

I got a big fucking problem

with any trigger-happy madman
almost gets me shot!

What the fuck you talking about?

That fucking shooting spree!

In the store, remember?

Oh, fuck 'em. They set off the alarm.

They deserve what they got.

You almost killed me!

Asshole!

If I'd known what kind of guy you were,
I never would've agreed to work with you.

Are you gonna bark all day, little doggy,

or are you gonna bite?

What was that?

I'm sorry. I didn't catch it.

Would you repeat it?

Are you gonna bark all day, little doggy,

or are you gonna bite?

Oh, Christ. Look, you two assholes,
calm the fuck down.

Hey, come on!
What, are we on a playground here, huh?

Am I the only professional?

You're acting like a bunch
of fucking niggers, man.

You ever worked with niggers, huh?

Just like you two, always saying
they're gonna kill each other.

You said yourself
you thought about taking him out.

- You fucking said that?
- Yeah, I did, okay? I did.

But that was then. Right now, this guy
is the only one I completely trust.

He's too fucking homicidal
to be working with the cops.

- You're taking his side?
- No! Fuck sides, man!

What we need is a little solidarity.

Somebody's sticking
a red-hot poker up our asses.

I want to know whose name's on the handle.

Fuck.

Look, I know I'm no piece of shit,

and I'm pretty sure you're okay.

And I'm fucking positive
you're on the level.

Let's try and figure out
who the bad guy is, all right?

Wow.

That was really exciting.

I bet you're a big Lee Marvin fan,
aren't you?

Me, too. I love that guy.

My heart's beating so fast,
I'm about to have a heart attack here.

Yeah?

I got something outside that, uh,
I'd like to show you guys, so follow me.

Follow you? Where?

To my car.

What, did you forget your French fries
to go with the soda?

- I had them already.
- Yeah?

I got something I think
you might want to see, though.

- What?
- It's a big surprise.

I'm sure you'll like it. Come on.

We still gotta get out of here, you know.

No. We're gonna stick around,
we're gonna wait.

- What for, the cops?
- No. Nice guy Eddie.

- Nice guy Eddie?
- Yeah.

What makes you think he isn't on a plane
right now halfway to Costa Rica?

Because I spoke to him on the phone
and he said he's on the way down here.

You talked to nice guy Eddie?

Why the fuck didn't you say that
in the first place?

'Cause you never asked me.

Hardy-fucking-har. What'd he say?

He said stay put.

So in the meantime...

I'll show you guys something.

Jesus Christ.

Maybe our boy in blue here
can answer some of these questions

about this rat business
you've been talking about.

You're a piece of work, my friend.

Ain't a bad idea.
Let's get him the fuck out of here.

Hey, sid, will you relax?

I know you a long time.

I'm not worried.
I know you'll pay me back.

Don't tell me what I already know.
Don't embarrass me.

So you had a few bad months.

You do what everybody else does.

I don't care if it's jp Morgan
or Irving the tailor.

You ride it out.

- Vic vega's outside.
- Hold on.

- Who?
- Vic vega.

Oh, tell him to come in.

- I gotta go. A friend of mine's outside.
- Come on in.

Keep your chin up. I'll be talking to you.

Don't worry.

Hey, welcome home, Vic.

Joe.

How does freedom feel, huh?

It's a change.

Ain't that the sad truth?

Sit down. Take your coat off.
Make yourself at home.

- Want a little drink?
- Yeah.

How about a little, uh, rémy Martin?

Sure.

Who's your parole officer?

Seymour scagnetti.

How is he?

He's a fucking asshole.

Won't even let me leave the halfway house.

You know, it never ceases to amaze me.

A fucking jungle bunny goes out there,

slits some old woman's throat
for 25 cents,

he gets Doris day for a parole officer.

Good fella like you winds up
with a ball-busting prick.

I want you to know I appreciate

all the packages
you sent me on the inside.

What the hell was I supposed to do,
forget about you?

I just want you to know
that it meant a lot to me.

Hey, it was the least I could do.

I wish to hell I could have done
a lot more.

Thanks a lot, Joe.

Ah, Vic.

Toothpick Vic.

So tell me your story, kid.
What are your plans?

You son of a bitch.

I see you sitting there,
but I don't believe it.

- How you doing, toothpick?
- Hey, Eddie.

Ahh!

All right!

Listen, I'm sorry.
I should've picked you up myself.

I was... my fucking... I mean, it's been...
This week's been crazy.

I've had my head up my ass the whole time.

It's funny you should say that

'cause that's what me and your daddy
were just talking about.

That I should have picked you up?

No, that you had your head up your ass.

I walk in the door, he's like,
"Vic, I'm so glad somebody's finally here

who knows what's going on.

My son Eddie is a fuck-up.

He's ruining the business.

I mean, I love the guy,

but he's flushing everything
down the toilet."

That's what you said, right, Joe?
Tell him yourself.

Eddie, I hate for you
to hear it like this,

but, you know, Vic come in
and asked me how business was.

You don't lie to a guy
who's just done four years in the slammer.

Very true.

All right! Enough of this shit!
Break it up!

Come on! This ain't a playground!

You guys want to roll around on the floor,
you do it in Eddie's office, not mine.

- Daddy, did you see that?
- What?

Guy got me on the ground,
he tried to fuck me.

You wish.

You sick bastard, Vic.

You tried to fuck me
in my father's office.

Look, Vic, whatever you want to do
in the privacy of your own home, go to it,

but don't try to fuck me.

I mean, I... I don't think of you that way.

I like you a lot, buddy,
but I don't think of you that way.

Listen, if I was a butt cowboy,
I wouldn't even throw you to the posse.

No, you wouldn't.
You'd keep me for yourself.

You know, four years
fucking punks up the ass,

you'd appreciate a piece of prime rib
when you see it.

I might break you in, nice guy,
but I'd make you my dog's bitch.

Ain't that a sad sight, daddy?

A man walks into prison a white man,
walks out talking like a fuckin' nigger.

You know what?
I think it's all that black semen

been pumped up your ass so far,

now it's backed into your fucking brain,
it's coming out your mouth.

Eddie, you keep talking like a bitch,
I'm gonna slap you like a bitch.

All right, enough of this shit!
I'm sick of it!

Now, both of you sit down.

Now, Eddie, when you came in here,
we were talking some serious business.

Now, Vic here's got a parole problem.

Who's your po?

Seymour scagnetti.

Scagnetti. Fuck.

- I hear he's a motherfucker.
- Oh, he's a fucker.

Won't even let me leave the halfway house
unless I get some shittyjob.

You're coming back to work for us, right?

Well, I want to.

First, I gotta prove to, uh, asshead

that I can get a regular,
you know, job-job-type job,

before I can move out on my own.

I can't come back to work for you guys

if I gotta worry about, uh,
making some silly-ass ten o'clock curfew

every fucking night.

All right, we can work this out,
can't we, Eddie?

This ain't all that bad.

We can get you a lot of legitimate jobs.

I'll get you down into long beach
as a dock worker.

I don't want to lift
no fucking crates, Eddie.

Vic, you ain't gonna lift shit.

You don't even work there.

But as far as the records
are concerned, you do.

I'll call Matthews the foreman
and tell him he's got a new guy.

Boom, you're on the rotation.

You get a time card.
It's clocked in and out for you every day.

At the end of the week,
you get a nice paycheck.

Dock workers do very well.

So you can move into a halfway decent
place without the scagnetti fuck going,

"hey, where the fuck's
the money coming from?"

And if he decides to make
a surprise visit,

that's the day we sent you to tustin,
pick up a load of shit and bring it back.

If he comes back again,
"hey, sorry, Seymour. You just missed him.

We had to send him to the taft airstrip
five fucking hours away.

We had a load of shit we had to have him
pick up there and bring back here."

Part of your job, Vic, is going
different places. That's the beauty of it.

We got places all over the place.

See, Vic? Did I tell you not to worry?

Here Vic was worried.

I'll take you down to long beach tomorrow.

We'll get you fixed up with Matthews,
I'll tell him what's what.

You know, I really appreciate
what you guys are doing,

but I'd like to know when I can come back,

you know, do some real work.

Well, it's hard to say.

It's kind of a strange time now.

Things are kind of...

They're a little fucked up
is what they are.

We're just getting ready
for a big meeting right now in Vegas.

Look, just let Eddie for now
set you up at long beach,

get you a job, give you some cash,

and get this scagnetti fuck off your back.

Then we'll talk to you, all right?

Huh?

Dad...

Igotanidea.

Now, just... just hear me out.

I know you don't like
using the boys on these jobs,

but Vic here, he's only been
nothing but good luck for us.

The guy's a fucking rabbit's foot,
for crying out loud.

I'd like to have him in.

You know he can handle himself,
and you damn sure know you can trust him.

Vic, how would you feel
about pulling a job

with about five other guys?

I'd feel great about it.

K—billy's
super sounds of the '703 continues.

And if you're the 12th caller,

you'll win two tickets
to the monster truck extravaganza

being held tonight
at the Carson fairgrounds,

featuring big daddy Don bodine's truck,
the behemoth.

The 12th caller wins on the station
where the '703 survived.

J” I gotcha! J'

j” uh-huh, huh j”

j” you thought
I didn't see you now, didn't you? J”

hey, dove, we got a major situation here.

I know you know that.

I gotta talk to daddy
and find out what he wants done.

J” give it here, come on! J'

j” hey! J” -

J” good god, hey! J”

All I know is what Vic told me, man.

He said the place
turned into a fucking bullet festival.

He took a cop hostage
just to get the fuck out of there.

Get up! Get up!

J” you promised me the day
that you quit your boyfriend j'

do I sound like I'm fucking joking?

He's fucking driving around
with a cop in his trunk!

J” you promised me
it would be just us two j”

I don't know who did what!

I... I don't know who's got the loot.
I don't know if anybody's got the loot.

I don't know who's dead.
I don't know who's alive.

I don't know who's caught.
I don't know who's not.

J” you never should've promised to me
give it here j”

j” don't hold back now, give it here j”

j” don't say nothin', just give it here j'

j” come on, give it here
uh, give it here j”

j” give it here, give it here j'

j” give it to me now j”

j” hey! I gotcha! J”

I will know. I'm practically there now.

But what do I tell these guys about daddy?

All right.
You're sure that's what he said?

Okay, that's what I'll tell 'em.

Huh? Fuck you!
You like being a fucking hero, huh?

You like being a fucking hero, huh?

You like being a fucking hero? Fuck!

Ow, fuck!

You're gonna suffer for nothing, pal.

You hear me?
'Cause you're gonna fucking talk.

- You're gonna fucking talk.
- I don't fucking know anything!

You fucking know. You know.
Look at me. You fucking know.

What in the Sam hill's going on here?

- You're asking what's going on?
- Hey, nice guy, we got a cop.

Where the fuck is Joe?

Holy shit. Orange is dead.

No, he's not dead, but he will be
if we don't get him taken care of.

We were set up.
The cops were there waiting for us.

What? Nobody fucking set anybody up.

- The cops were there waiting for us, man.
- Bullshit.

Hey, fuck you, man!
You weren't there, we were!

I'm telling you the cops
had that store staked out.

Okay, Mr. Fucking detective,
you're so fucking smart.

Huh? Who did it?

What the hell do you think
we've been asking each other?

What did you come up with, huh?

You think I did it?
You think I fucking set you up?

I don't know, but somebody did.

Nobody did.

You fucking assholes
turned a jewelry store into...

Don't you call me an asshole!

You fucking idiot.

Turned a fucking jewelry store
into a wild west show,

and you wonder why
the fucking cops show up!

Where's Joseph?

I don't know. I ain't talked to him.
I talked to dove.

He said daddy's coming down here
and he's fucking pissed!

He's pissed? I told you he'd be pissed.

What did Joe say?

I told you I ain't talked to him!

All I know is he's pissed.

What are you gonna do about him?

Jesus Christ, give me
a fucking chance to breathe.

I got a few questions of my own.

You ain't dying. He is.

All right, Mr. Fucking compassion,
I will call somebody!

Who?

A fucking snake charmer. Who do you think?

I'll call a doctor!
He'll fix him right up.

Now, what happened to brown and blue?

Brown's dead.
We don't know what happened to blue.

Brown's dead? Are you sure?

I'm sure. I was there.

He took one in the head.

Nobody's got a clue
what happened to Mr. Blue?

Either he's alive, or he's dead,

or the cops got him, or they don't.

I take it this is the bastard
you told me about?

Why you beating on him?

Maybe he can tell us
who the fuck set us up.

If you fucking
beat this prick long enough,

he'll tell you he started
the goddamn Chicago fire.

Now, that don't necessarily
make it fucking so!

Come on, man, think!

All right! First things fucking last.

Who's got the stones?

Please, somebody at least tell me
one little fucking favor just for my sake.

I got a bag. I got a bag, okay?

I stashed it till I could be sure
this place wasn't a police station.

Good for you. Now, let's go get it.

First, we gotta get rid
of those cars outside.

Looks like Sam's hot car lot out there.

Okay. Blondie, stay here
and babysit them two.

White and pink, take a car each.

I'll follow you. You ditch 'em.
We'll pick up the stones.

While I'm following you, I'll arrange
some sort of a doctor for our friend.

We can't leave these guys here with him.

- Why not?
- 'Cause he's a fucking psycho.

And if you think Joe's pissed off,

that ain't nothing compared
to how pissed off I am at him

for putting me in the same room
as that bastard!

You see what I've been
putting up with, Eddie?

I fucking walked in here,
I told these guys about staying put,

Mr. White whips out his gun,
he's sticking it in my face,

calling me a motherfucker,
saying he's gonna blow me away,

and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

He's the reason the joint
turned into a shooting spree.

What are you, a fucking silent partner?
Tell him!

He went crazy in the store,
but he seems all right now.

This is what he was doing.

Bam! Bam!

Bam! Bam!

Yeah, barn, bam, barn, bam, barn.

I told them not to touch
the fucking alarm, they did!

If they hadn't done
what I told them not to do,

they'd still be alive.

My fucking hero.

Thanks.

That's your excuse for going
on a kill-crazy rampage?

I don't like alarms, Mr. White.

What does it matter
who stays with the cop?

We ain't letting him go,
not after he's seen everybody.

I haven't been looking at you guys.

Shut the fuck up, man!

You guys should never have taken him
out of the trunk in the first place.

We've been trying to find out
what he knew about the setup.

There is no fucking setup!

Now, here's the news!

Blondie, you stay here,
take care of these two.

White and pink, you come with me,

'cause if Joe gets here
and he sees all these cars parked outside,

I swear, he's gonna be just as mad at me
as he is at you.

Fine, let's go.

Alone at last.

Guess what.

I think I'm parked in a red zone.

Now, where were we?

I told you I don't know anything
about any fucking setup.

Mm-hmm.

I've been on the force
for only eight months.

They don't tell me anything.

Nobody tells me shit.
You can torture me all you want.

Torture you. That's a good...
That's a good idea.

I like that one. Yeah.

- Sounds fun.
- Even your boss said there wasn't a setup.

My what?

Your boss.

Excuse me, pal.

One thing I want to make clear to you.

I don't have a boss.

Nobody tells me what to do.

You understand?

You hear what I said, you son of a bitch?

All right, all right, all right.
You don't have a boss. All right.

Get that fucking shit off.

Look, kid, I'm not gonna
bullshit you, okay?

I don't really give a good fuck
what you know or don't know.

But I'm gonna torture you anyway...

Regardless.

Not to get information.

It's amusing to me to torture a cop.

You can say anything you want
'cause I've heard it all before.

All you can do is pray for a quick death...

Which...

You ain't gonna get.

Oh, god.

You ever listen to k-Billy's
super sounds of the '70s?

It's my personal favorite.

Joe egan
and Gerry Rafferty were a duo

known as stealers wheel

when they recorded this dylanesque,
pop-bubblegum favorite

from April of 1974.

That reached up to number five,

as k—billy's super sounds of the '703
continues.

J” well, I don't know
why / came here tonight j”

j” I got the feeling
that somethin' ain't right j”

j” I'm so scared
in case I fall off my chair j”

j” and I'm wonderin'
how I'll get down the stairs j'

J” clowns to the left of me j”

j” jokers to the right j'

j” here I am
stuck in the middle with you j'

j” yes, I'm stuck in the middle
with you j” -

J” and I'm wonderin'
what it is / should do j”

j” it's so hard to keep this smile
from my face j”

Hold still.

Hold still, you fuck!

J” clowns to the left of me j”

j” jokers to the right j'

j” here I am
stuck in the middle with you j'

j” well, you started off with nothin' j”

j” and you're proud
that you're a self-made man j”

J” and your friends
they all come crawlin' j”

j” slap you on the back
and say please j'

was that as good for you as it was for me?

- Hey, what's going on?
- J” please j”

you hear that?

-J” tryin' to make some sense of it all j'
-don't go anywhere. I'll be right back.

J” but I can see it
makes no sense at all j”

j” is it cool
to go to sleep on the floor? J'

j” 'cause I don't think
that I can take any more j'

j” clowns to the left of me j”

j” jokers to the right j'

j” here I am, stuck in the middle... j”

J” please j'

j” please j'

J” well, I don't know
why / came here tonight j”

j” I got the feeling
that somethin' ain't right j”

j” I'm so scared
in case I fall off my chair j”

j” and I'm wonderin'
how I'll get down the stairs j'

j” clowns to the left of me j”

J” jokers to the right j'

j” here I am
stuck in the middle with you j'

j” yes, I'm stuck in the middle with you j”

j” stuck in the middle with you j'

J” here I am
stuck in the middle with you j'

aah! Aah! Don't!

Stop! Stop!

- Stop. Don't.
- What? What's the matter?

Don't do this!

- Please! Don't!
- That... that burn a little bit?

Just stop! Stop!

Please. Stop. Just stop.

Stop... just talk to me.

Please, don't. Please, don't...
Don't burn me, please!

Ah! Ah!

I'm begging you. I... I don't know anything
about any of you fucking guys!

I'm not gonna say anything.

Don't! Don't! Don't! Please don't!

- You all through? You all through?
- Don't! Stop!

Please, look, I got a little kid
at home now, please.

- You all done?
- Don't!

- Have some fire, scarecrow.
- Don't! Don't! Wait, don't!

Fuck!

Hey.

Ah, shit.

Hey, you.

What's your name?

Marvin.

Marvin what?

Marvin Nash.

Listen to me, Marvin. I'm a...

Listen to me, Marvin Nash. I'm a cop.

Yeah, I know.

You do?

Yeah, your name's Freddy something.

Newandyke.

Freddy newandyke.

Frankie ferchetti, he introduced us
about five months ago.

Shit, I don't remember that at all.

I do.

Fuck.

Freddy.

Freddy.

Freddy.

How do I look?

What?

What?

I don't know what to tell you, Marvin.

That fuck.

Ah, that sick fuck!

That fucking bastard!

Marvin, I need you to hold on.

There's cops waiting to move in
a block away.

What the fuck are they waiting for?

This fucking guy slashes my face,

and he cuts my fucking ear off!

I'm fucking deformed!

Fuck you!

Fuck you! I'm fucking dying here!

I'm fucking dying!

They're not to make a move
till Joe cabot shows up.

I was sent in to get him.

All right?

Now you heard 'em.
They said he's on his way.

Don't pussy out on me now, Marvin.

We're just gonna sit here and bleed

till Joe cabot sticks his fucking head
through that door.

Say hello to a motherfucker who's inside.

Cabot's doing a job, and take a big,
fat guess who he wants on the team.

This better not be
some kind of freddyjoke, man.

This ain't no joke.

I'm in there. I'm up his ass.

Nice guy Eddie tells me
Joe wants to meet me.

He says I should just hang in my apartment
and wait for a phone call.

After waiting three goddamn days
by the fucking phone,

he calls me last night
and says Joe's ready,

he'll pick me up in 15 minutes.

Who all picked you up?

Nice guy. We get to a bar.

- What bar?
- Smokey Pete's in gardena.

- Mm-hmm.
- We get there,

and I meet Joe and a guy named Mr. White.

It's a phony name. My name's Mr. Orange.

Mr. Orange?

Mr. Orange.

Okay, Mr. Orange...

Have you ever seen
this motherfucker before?

Who? Mr. White?

Yes, Mr. Orange, Mr. White.

No, he ain't familiar.

He, uh, ain't one
of cabot's soldiers either.

He's gotta be from out of town.

- Joe knows him real good.
- How can you tell?

The way they talk to each other.
You can tell they're real buddies.

- The two of you talk?
- Who, me and Joe?

Mr. White.

- A little.
- About what?

- Brewers.
- Milwaukee brewers.

Yeah. Apparently,
they won the night before.

- He made a killing off 'em.
- This is sweet, man.

If this crook's a brewers fan,
his ass has gotta be from Wisconsin.

- Bing!
- And I'll bet you everything

from a diddle-eyed Joe
to a damned-if-i-know

that in Milwaukee they got a sheet
on this Mr. White motherfucker's ass.

So what I want you to do

is to go through the mugs
of all the guys from oi' Milwaukee

with a history of armed robbery,

put a name to the face.

Nice work there.

Thank you, my man.

How was long beach Mike's referral?

Perfecto. He's backing me up
a long fucking way.

I told 'em it was long beach Mike
I did the poker game with.

When nice guy called him to check it out,
he said it was a-ok.

He said I was a good thief.

I didn't rattle.
I was ready to make a move.

Do right by him. He's a good guy.
I wouldn't be inside if it wasn't for him.

No, no, no, no, no.

Long beach Mike is not
your fucking amigo, man.

Long beach Mike is a fucking scumbag.

He's selling out his amigos.

That's what kind of a nice guy
he fucking is, all right?

I'll take care of his fucking ass, man,

but you get that lowlife scumbag
out of mind

and you take care of business,
you hear me?

Gone.

You use the commode story?

What's the commode story?

It's a scene, man. Memorize it.

A what?

Look, man, an undercover cop's
gotta be Marlon Brando, right?

To do this job,
you gotta be a great actor.

You gotta be naturalistic.
You gotta be naturalistic as hell.

Because if you ain't a great actor,
you're a bad actor,

and bad acting is bullshit in this job.

Yeah. What is this?

That's an amusing anecdote
about a drug deal.

What?

Something funny that happened to you
while you were doing a fucking job, man.

Damn.

I gotta memorize all this?

That's over four fucking pages
of this shit!

Just think about it
like it's a-— a joke, all right?

You memorize what's important,
the rest you make your own, all right?

- You can tell a joke, can't you?
- No.

Pretend you're Don rickles
or some-fucking-body and tell a joke.

Now, the things
you gotta remember are the details.

It's the details that sell your story.

This particular story takes place
in a men's room.

So you gotta know all the details
about the men's room.

You gotta know if they got paper towels
or a blower to dry your hands with.

You gotta know if the stalls
ain't got no doors or not, man.

You gotta know if they got liquid soap

or that pink granulated powdered shit
they used to use in high school, remember?

You gotta know if they got
hot water or not, if it stinks,

if some nasty, lowlife,
scum-ridden motherfucker, man,

sprayed diarrhea
all over one of the bowls.

You gotta know every detail
there is to know about this commode.

What you gotta do
is take all them details, man,

and make them your own.

While you're doing that,

you gotta remember
that this story is about you,

and how you perceived the events
that went down.

The only way to do that, my brother...

Keep saying it,

and saying it and saying it
and saying it and saying it.

This was during
the Los Angeles marijuana drought in 1986.

I still had a connection,
which was insane,

'cause you couldn't get
any weed any-fucking-where.

Anyway...

I had a connection with this hippie chick
up in Santa Cruz

and all my friends knew it.

They'd give me a call and they'd say,
"hey, Freddy..."

They'd say, "hey, dude, you getting some?

Can you get some for me too?"
Like, they knew I still smoked,

so they asked me to buy some for them
when I was buying for me.

But it got to be...

Got to be, got to be...

Got to be...

Every time I bought some weed,

I was buying for four or five
different fucking people.

Finally, I said, "fuck this shit.

I'm making this bitch rich."

She didn't have to do Jack shit.
She never even had to meet these people.

I was doing all the work.

But then that got to be a pain in the ass.

People called me on the phone
all the fucking time.

I couldn't even rent a fucking tape
without six phone calls interrupting me.

"Hey, when's the next time
you're getting some?"

"Motherfucker! I'm trying
to watch the lost boys.

When I get some, I'll let you know."

Then these rinky-dink potheads come by...

They're my friends and everything,
but still, you know?

I got all my shit laid out in $60 bags.

They don't want $60 worth.
They want $10 worth.

Breaking it up is a major
fucking pain in the ass.

I don't even know
what $10 worth looks like.

This is a very weird situation.

I don't know if you remember back in '86
there was a major fucking drought.

Nobody had anything.

People were living on resin, smoking
the wood in their pipes for months.

This chick had a bunch,
and she's begging me to sell it.

So I told her, I wasn't
gonna be Joe the pot man anymore,

but I would take a little bit and sell it
to my close, close, close friends.

She agreed to that, said we'd keep
the same arrangement as before...

10% free pot for me
as long as I helped her out that weekend.

She had a brick of weed she was selling,
she didn't wanna go to the buy alone.

Her brother usually goes with her,
but he's in county unexpectedly.

- What for?
- His traffic ticket's got a warrant.

They stopped him for something,
found warrants on him, took him to county.

Now, she doesn't wanna walk around alone
with all that weed.

I don't want to do this.
I have a very bad feeling about it.

She keeps asking me,
keeps asking me, keeps asking me.

Finally, I said okay.
'Cause I'm sick of hearing it.

Now we're picking the guy up
at the train station...

You go to the train station to pick up
the buyer with the weed on you?

The guy needed it right away.
Don't ask me why.

Anyway, we get to the train station
and we're waiting for the guy.

Now, I'm carrying the weed around
in one of those little carry-on bags.

I gotta take a piss.

So I tell the connection
I'll be right back,

I'm going to the boys' room.

So I walk in the men's room,
and who's standing there?

Four Los Angeles county sheriffs
and a German Shepherd.

They're waiting for you?

No, it's just a bunch of cops
hanging out in the men's room, talking.

When I walked through the door,

they all stopped what they were
talking about and looked at me.

That's hard, man.
That's a fucking hard situation.

German Shepherd starts barking.

He's barking at me.

I mean, it's obvious. He's barking at me.

Every nerve ending, all my senses,

blood in my veins,
everything I have is screaming,

"take off, man! Just bail!
Just get the fuck out of there!"

Panic hits me like a bucket of water.

First, there's the shock of it.
Bam, right in the face.

I'm just standing there,
drenched in panic,

and all these sheriffs are looking at me,
and they know, man.

They can smell it,
sure as that fucking dog can.

They can smell it on me.

Shut up!

So... so anyway...

I got my gun drawn, right?

And I got it pointed right at this guy,

and I tell him, "freeze!
Don't fucking move!“

and this little idiot's
looking right at me,

nodding his head yeah,
and he's saying, "I know. I know. I know."

But meanwhile, his right hand
is creeping towards the glove box.

And I scream at him, I go,

"asshole! I'm gonna
fucking blow you away right now!

Put your hands on the dash!"

And he's still looking at me,

nodding his head, you know...
"I know, buddy. I know. I know."

And meanwhile, you know,
his hand is still going for the glove box.

And I said, "buddy,
I'm gonna shoot you in the face

if you don't put your hands
on the fucking dash!"

And then this guy's girlfriend,
this real sexy oriental bitch, you know,

she starts screaming at him,
"Chuck! Chuck! What are you doing?

Listen to the officer!
Put your hands on the dash!"

So, you know, then like nothing,
the guy snaps out of it

and casually puts his hands on the dash.

What was he going for?

His fucking registration.

You're kidding!

No, man! Stupid fucking citizen

doesn't know how close he came
to getting blown away.

That close, man.

Bonehead running around
the neighborhood. Police brutality.

You knew
how to handle that situation.

Just shit your pants and dive in and swim.

Tell me more about cabot.

I don't know.

He's... he's a cool guy, you know.

He's funny. He's a funny guy.

You remember the fantastic four?

Oh, yeah, with that, uh, invisible bitch
and, uh, “flame on" and shit.

The thing.

Motherfucker looks just like the thing.

- Yeah.
- Hey.

Showtime.

Grab your jacket.

I'm parked outside.

I'll be right down.

He'll be right down.

J” my sunshine j”

j” the part he always liked the best j”

j” when she'd tease him with a kiss j'

j” and she said, "you make me happy" j”

j” be a fool for love j”

j” what he wouldn't do for love j”

j” he's a fool, a fool for love j”

j” born a fool
you got to follow the rule j”

j” always a fool... j”

Don't pussy out on me now.

They don't know.

They don't know shit.

You're not gonna get hurt.

You're fucking baretta.

They believe every fucking word
'cause you're super cool.

There goes our boy.

I swear, the guy
has to have rocks in his head

the size of Gibraltar to work undercover.

- You want one of these?
- Yeah. Give me the bear claw.

J” ooga-chaka, ooga-ooga j”

j” ooga-chaka, ooga-ooga j”

j” ooga-chaka, ooga-ooga j”

j” ooga-chaka, ooga-ooga j”

j” I can't stop this feeling j”

-j” ooga-ooga j”
-j” deep inside of me j”

hey, I know what I'm talking about, okay?

Black women ain't the same as white women.

There's a slight difference.

Very funny. You know what I mean.

What a white bitch will put up with,

a black bitch wouldn't put up with
for a minute, man.

They got a line and if you cross it,
they fuck you up.

I gotta go along with pink on that one.
I've seen it happen.

Okay, Mr. Expert,
if this is such a truism,

why is it that every nigger I know
treats his woman like a piece of shit?

I'll make you a bet
that those same damn niggers

who were showin' their ass in public,

when their bitches get them home, man,
they chill the fuck out.

- Not these guys.
- Oh, yeah, those guys, too.

Tell you guys a story.

One of daddy's clubs,

there's a black cocktail waitress
named elois.

- Elois?
- Yeah, elois.

E and Lois.

We called her lady e.

Where was she from, Compton?

She's from ladera heights.

Well, ladera heights,
that's the black Beverly Hills.

Well, it's not the black Beverly Hills.

It's the black palos verdes.

Anyway, lady e...

I mean, she was a man-eater-upper.
UN-fucking-believable.

Every guy that ever,
ever laid his eyes on her

had to Jack off to her at least once.

You know who she looked like?
She looked like christie love.

Remember that TV show get christie love!,
about the black female cop?

She always used to say,

"You're under arrest, sugar."

What's the name of the chick
who played christie love?

- Pam grier.
- No, it wasn't Pam grier.

Pam grier was the other one.

Pam grier did the film.

Christie love was like a Pam grier TV show
without Pam grier.

- So who was christie love?
- How the fuck should I know?

Great, now I'm totally fucking tortured.

Whoever it was, it doesn't matter.
She looked exactly like elois.

Anne Francis.

No, that was honey west.

- Anne Francis is white.
- Shut up.

All right,
I'm trying to tell a story here.

She looked exactly like elois.

Anyway, I come into the club one night.

There's Carlos, he's the bartender.
He's a wetback. He's a friend of mine.

And I says to him,
"Carlos, where's lady e tonight?"

And he... now, apparently, lady e
was married to a real piece of dog shit.

I mean, a real fucking animal.

- He used to do things to her.
- Do things... do things.

Like what? What would he do?
He beat her up or something?

I don't know what he did.
He just did things, all right?

So, anyway, one night,
she plays it real cool.

She waits for this bag of shit
to get drunk.

He falls asleep on the fucking couch.

She sneaks up on him,
she puts some wacko glue on his dick,

- and glues his dick to his belly.
- Ohh!

- No.
- Jesus Christ.

I'm serious, man.
I'm serious. I'm dead serious.

They had to call the paramedics
to cut the prick loose, literally.

Do some crazy things with it.

Was he all pissed off?

How would you feel
if every time you had to take a piss,

you had to do a fucking handstand?

You guys like to tell jokes and giggle
and kid around, huh?

Giggling like a bunch of young broads
in the schoolyard.

Well, let me tell a joke.

Five guys sitting in a bullpen,
San Quentin,

wondering how the fuck they got there.

"What did we do wrong?
What should have we done?

What didn't we do?
It's your fault, my fault, his fault."

All that bullshit.

Finally, someone comes up with the idea.

"Wait a minute.

While we were planning this caper,

all we did was sit around
and tell fucking jokes."

Got the message?

Fellas, I don't mean to holler at you.

When this caper's over, and I'm sure
it's gonna be a successful one,

hell, we'll go down the Hawaiian islands,
I'll roar and laugh with all of you.

You'll find me a different character
down there.

Right now, it's a matter of business.

With the exception of Eddie and myself,
whom you already know,

we're gonna be using aliases on this job.

Under no circumstances
do I want any one of you

to relate to each other
by your Christian names,

and I don't want any talk
about yourself personally.

That includes where you been,
your wife's name,

where you might have done time,

or a bank maybe you robbed
in St. Petersburg.

All I want you guys to talk about,
if you have to,

is what you're gonna do.

That should do it.

Here are your names.

Mr. Brown,

Mr. White,

Mr. Blonde,

Mr. Blue, Mr. Orange,

and Mr. Pink.

Why am I Mr. Pink?

Because you're a faggot, all right?

Why can't we pick our own colors?

No way. No way.
Tried it once. It doesn't work.

You get four guys all fighting over
who's gonna be Mr. Black.

They don't know each other,
so nobody wants to back down.

No way. I pick. You're Mr. Pink.

Be thankful you're not Mr. Yellow.

Yeah, but Mr. Brown,
that's a little too close to Mr. Shit.

Mr. Pink sounds like Mr. Pussy.

How about if I'm Mr. Purple?

That sounds good to me.
I'll be Mr. Purple.

You're not Mr. Purple.

Some guy on some otherjob is Mr. Purple.

You're Mr. Pink!

Who cares what your name is?

Yeah, that's easy for you to say.

You're Mr. White.
You have a cool-sounding name.

All right, look, if it's no big deal
to be Mr. Pink, you wanna trade?

Hey, nobody's trading with anybody.

This ain't a goddamn fucking
city council meeting, you know.

Now listen up, Mr. Pink.

There's two ways you can go on this job:

My way or the highway.

Now, what's it gonna be, Mr. Pink?

Jesus Christ, Joe.
Fucking forget about it.

It's beneath me, you know.
I'm Mr. Pink. Let's move on.

I'll move on when I feel like it.

All you guys got the goddamn message?

I'm so goddamn mad hollering at you guys,
I can hardly talk.

Let's go to work.

Let's go over it. Where are you?

I stand outside
and guard the door.

I don't let anybody go in or go out.

- Mr. Brown?
- Mr. Brown waits in the car.

He's parked across the street
till I give him the signal.

Then he pulls up in front of the store.

Mr. Blonde and Mr. Blue?

Crowd control.
They handle customers and employees.

That girl's ass?

It's sitting right here on my dick.

Myself and Mr. Pink?

Uh, you two take the manager in the back
and make him give you the diamonds.

We're there for those stones, period.

Since no display cases
are being fucked with,

no alarms should go off.

We're out of there in two minutes,
not one second longer.

What happens if the manager
won't give you the diamonds?

When you're dealing
with a store like this,

they're insured up the ass.

They're not supposed
to give you any resistance, whatsoever.

If you get a customer or an employee
who thinks he's Charles Bronson,

take the butt of your gun
and smash their nose in.

Drops him right to the floor.

Everyone jumps, he falls down screaming.

Blood squirts out of his nose,
freaks everybody out.

Nobody says fucking shit after that.

You might get some bitch talk shit to you.

Give her a look like you're gonna
smash her in the face next.

Watch her shut the fuck up.

Now, if it's a manager,
that's a different story.

The managers know better
than to fuck around.

So, if you get one
that's giving you static,

he probably thinks he's a real cowboy,

so you gotta break
that son of a bitch in two.

If you want to know something
and he won't tell you,

cut off one of his fingers,
the little one.

Then tell him his thumb's next.

After that, he'll tell you
if he wears ladies' underwear.

I'm hungry. Let's get a taco.

Come on!

Hey... I don't believe this.

Fuck!

Fuck!

Jesus. I got blinded, man.
I'm fucking blind.

You're not blind. You just got blood
in your eyes, all right?

Aah!

Is he dead?

Did he die or not?

Let's go.

Hold it! Hold it! Right there!

Get out of the fucking car!

I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Larry.

I... I can't believe she killed me!

Who would've fucking thought that?

Hey!
Just cancel that shit right now!

You're hurt! You're hurt real fucking bad,
but you ain't dying!

Oh! All this blood
is scaring the shit out of me, Larry!

I... I'm gonna die! I know it!

- What the fuck happened?
- He slashed the cop's face.

Cut off his ear
and was gonna burn him alive.

What? I didn't hear you.

I said...

Blonde went crazy.

He slashed the cop's face, cutoff his ear
and was gonna burn him alive.

This cop?

No.

He went crazy? Something like that?

Worse or better?

Eddie, he was pulling a burn, man.

He was gonna kill the cop and me.

When you guys walked through the door,

he was gonna blow you to hell
and make off with the diamonds.

What'd I tell you? That sick piece of shit
was a stone-cold psycho.

You could've asked the cop,
if you didn't just kill him.

He talked about what he was gonna do
when he was slicing him up.

I don't buy it. It doesn't make sense.

Makes perfect fucking sense to me.

You weren't there during the job, Eddie.
You didn't see how he acted. We did.

He's right about the ear. It's hacked off.

All right, let me just say this out loud,

'cause I want to get this straight
in my head.

You're saying that Mr. Blonde
was gonna kill you,

and then when we got back,
he was gonna kill us,

take the satchel of diamonds and scram.

I'm right about that, right?
That's correct? That's your story?

I swear on my mother's eternal soul,
it's what happened.

The man you just killed
just got released from prison.

He got caught at a company warehouse
full of hot items.

He could have fucking walked.

All he had to do was say my dad's name,
but he kept his fucking mouth shut.

And he did his fucking time,
and he did it like a man.

He did four years for us.

So, Mr. Orange,

you're telling me
this very good friend of mine,

who did four years for my father,

who, in four years, never made a deal,

no matter what they dangled
in front of him,

you're telling me that now
that this man is free

and we're making good
on our commitment to him,

he's just gonna decide,

out of the fucking blue, to rip us off?

Why don't you tell me
what really happened?

What the hell for?

It'd just be more bullshit.

This man set us up.

Dad, I'm sorry, but I don't know
what the hell's happening.

It's all right, Eddie. I do.

What the fuck are you talking about?

That lump of shit's working with the LAPD.

Joe, I don't have
the slightest fucking idea

what you're talking about.

Joe, Joe, I don't know
what you think you know, but you're wrong.

Like hell I am.

Joe, trust me on this.
You've made a mistake.

He's a good kid.

I understand. You're hot.
You're super-fucking pissed.

We're all real emotional.

But you're barking up the wrong tree.

- I know this man. He wouldn't do that.
- You don't know Jack shit!

I do!

The cocksucker tipped off the cops
and had Mr. Brown and Mr. Blue killed.

- Mr. Blue is dead?
- Dead as Dillinger.

How do you know all this?

He's the only one I wasn't 100% on.

I should have my fucking head examined,
going ahead when I wasn't 100%.

That's your proof?

You don't need proof
when you have instinct.

I ignored it before, but no more.

Have you lost your fucking mind?

Joe, you're making a terrible mistake.
I'm not gonna let you make it.

Come on, guys. Nobody wants this.

We're supposed to be
fucking professionals.

Larry, look,
it's been quite a long time,

a lot ofjobs.

There's no need for this, man.

Let's just put our guns down,

and let's settle this
with a fucking conversation.

Joe, if you kill that man, you die next.

Repeat.
If you kill that man, you die next.

Larry, we have been friends,

and you respect my dad and I respect you,

but I will put fucking bullets
right through your heart.

You put that fucking gun down. Now.

Goddamn you, Joe. Don't make me do this.

Larry, stop pointing
that fucking gun at my dad!

I'm sorry, kid.

Looks like we're gonna...

Do... do a little time.

I'm a cop.

Larry...

I'm sorry.

I'm 3... so sorry.

I'm a cop.

Sorry. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, Larry!

I'm... sorry.

Larry, I'm sorry.

Freeze!
Drop the fucking gun, buddy!

- Now!
- Put the gun down!

- Don't do it!
- Drop the gun, man!

- Don't do it!
- Drop the gun! Drop the fucking gun!

We're gonna
fucking blow you away!

[Gunshofl

J” brother bought a coconut
he bought it for a dime j”

j” his sister had another one
she paid it for the lime j'

j” she put the lime in the coconut
she drank 'em both up j'

j” she put the lime in the coconut
she drank 'em both up j'

j” she put the lime in the coconut
she drank 'em both up j'

j” she put the lime in the coconut j”

j” she called the doctor, woke him up j”

j” and said, "doctor
ain't there nothin' I can take?" J”

j” I said, "doctor
to relieve this bellyache?" J”

j” I said, "doctor
ain't there nothin' I can take?" J”

j” I said, "doctor
to relieve this bellyache?" J”

j” now let me get this straight j”

j” you put the lime in the coconut
you drank 'em both up j'

j” put the lime in the coconut
you drank 'em both up j'

j” you put the lime in the coconut
you drank 'em both up j'

j” you put the lime in the coconut j”

j” you called the doctor, woke him up j”

j” said, "doctor
ain't there nothin' I can take?" J”

j” I said, "doctor
to relieve this bellyache?" J”

-j” I said, "doctor" j”
-j” doctor j”

j” "ain't there nothin' I can take?" J”

j” I said, "doctor
to relieve this bellyache?" J”

j” you put the lime in the coconut
you drink 'em both together j”

j” put the lime in the coconut
then you'll feel better j”

j” put the lime in the coconut
drink 'em both up j”

j” put the lime in the coconut
and call me in the morning j”

j” whoo-hoo j”

j” ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh j'

j” ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh j”

j” ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh j”

j” ooh-ooh-ooh j”

j” brother bought a coconut
he bought it for a dime j”

j” his sister had another one
she paid it for the lime j'

j” she put the lime in the coconut
she drank 'em both up j'

j” put the lime in the coconut j”

j” she called her doctor, woke him up j”

j” she said, "doctor
ain't there nothin' I can take?" J”

j” I said, "doctor
to relieve this bellyache?" J”

j” I said, "doctor
ain't there nothin' I can take?" J”

j” I said, "doctor” j'

j” now let me get this straight j”

j” you put the lime in the coconut
you drink 'em both up j'

j” put the lime in the coconut
you drink 'em both up j'

j” put a lime in the coconut
you drink 'em both up j'

j” put the lime in the coconut
you're such a silly woman j”

j” put a lime in the coconut
and drink 'em both together j”

j” put the lime in the coconut
then you'll feel better j”

j” put the lime in the coconut
drink 'em both down j”

j” put the lime in the coconut
and call me in the morning j”

j” whoo-hoo j”

j” ain't there nothing you can take? J”

j” I said, "whoo-hoo-ooh
to relieve your bellyache?" J”

j” you said, "whoo-hoo-ooh
ain't there nothing I can take?" J”

j” I said, "whoo-hoo-ooh
to relieve your bellyache?" J”

j” you said, "yeah
ain't there nothing I can take?" J”

j” I said, "waa-ahh
to relieve this bellyache?" J”

j” I said, "doctor
ain't there nothin' I can take?" J”

j” I said, "doctor
ain't there nothing I can take?" J”

j” I said, "doctor
ain't there nothing I can take?" J”

j” I said, "doctor”
you're such a silly woman j”

j” put the lime in the coconut
and drink 'em both together j”

j” put the lime in the coconut
then you'll feel better j”

j” put the lime in the coconut
drink 'em both up j”

j” put the lime in the coconut
and call me in the morning j”

j” yes, you call me in the morning j”

j” you call me in the morning
I'll tell you what to do j'

j” if you call me in the morning
I'll tell you what to do j'

j” if you call me in the morning
I'll tell you what to do j'

j” if you call me in the morning
I'll tell you what to do j'