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You Red Welby?

Yes, ma'am.
How may I help you?

Are you in charge
of renting

the three billboards out
on Drinkwater Road?

I didn't know we had
any billboards on...

Where is Drinkwater Road?

Past Sizemore turn-off.

Nobody uses it since the
freeway got put in.

You're right.

We got three billboards
out there.

Nobody's put nothing
up there since 1986.

That was Huggies.

How much to rent all three
of them out for the year?

A year?

On a road
that no one goes down

unless they got lost
or they're retards...

For a year?

Quick, ain't you, Welby?

Well,

since what I say
goes these days

down at the Ebbing
Advertising Desk...

I'm gonna strike you
a real good deal.

What's your name?

What's the law on what you can
and cannot say on a billboard?

Nothing defamatory,

and you can't say "fuck",
"piss" or "cunt". That right?

Uh...

Or...

Anus.

Well, I think
I'll be all right then.

Here's 5,000
for the first month.

I assume that'll cover it.

And here's what
they are to say.

Why don't you
write up a contract

betwixt us
while you're at it.

Make sure nobody rents them
billboards out from under me.

I guess you're
Angela Hayes's mother.

That's right.
I'm Angela Hayes's mother.

Name's Mildred.

How long before
you get them put up?

Shall we say by...

Easter Sunday?

That would be perfect.

♪ As I was walking
down the streets of Laredo ♪

♪ As I walked down
to Laredo one day ♪

♪ I spied a young cowboy
all wrapped in white linen ♪

♪ All wrapped in white linen
and cold as the clay ♪

Hey, what the hell
is this?

Que?

"How come,
Chief Willoughby" what?

- What?
- Yeah.

Huh?

"How come" what?

- What, what?
- What?

Listen,
you fucking beaner,

I'd better start getting
some straight answers.

Put that down.

What the hell is this?

Hey, you.
What the fuck is this?

What the fuck
is what?

This! This.

Advertising, I guess.

Advertising what?

Something obscure?

I'll say. Yeah.

Don't I know your face
from some place?

I don't know, do you?

Yeah. Yeah, I do.

I could arrest you
right now...

For what?

For emptying your bucket.

That's being bad against
the environment laws.

Well, before you do that,
Officer Dixon,

how about
you have a look

at that first billboard
over there?

And then we can have
ourself a conversation

about the motherfucking
environment.

How about that?

Fuck me.

Don't, William.

Dixon, you goddamn asshole.

I'm in the middle
of my goddamn Easter dinner.

Sorry, kids.

I know, Chief,

and I'm sorry for calling
you at home and all, but...

I think we got kind of a problem.

No, no. Go back.

Sorry I'm late, Denise.

Did you put up
those billboards yet?

They're up.

Go, girl. You go
fuck those cops up.

What the fuck do you think
you're doing, Welby?

You didn't think there would
be legal ramifications?

What's the legal
ramifications, Cedric?

Do you want
me to explain?

Little punk like you.
And don't call me Cedric!

Ain't contravening no laws
on any fucking thing.

I checked.

And where did you check
all this out?

In a...

A book.

Which book, genius?

Book called Suck My Ass,
It's None Of Your Business.

Fuck.

How long has this person,
or persons,

rented these
billboards out for?

Oh, the year.

How long has she
actually paid for?

The year.

So it's a "she", is it?

I ain't at liberty
to divulge

that kind of information,
Chief.

Mildred Hayes, perhaps?

Ain't at liberty
to divulge

that kind of information,
Chief.

Do you really wanna fuck

with the Ebbing
Police Department, Red?

Do you?

I guess.

He said what?
To your face?

No crime has been
committed here.

Defamation of character
ain't a crime?

Not if she's simply
asking a question.

What are you, an idiot?

Don't call me
an idiot, Dixon!

I didn't
call you an idiot,

I asked if you was an idiot.
That was a question.

He got you there, Cedric.

That's it.

Don't fly off the handle.

Why in the hell
you keep that man on?

He's a good man at heart.

He tortured a guy
in custody, Bill.

There was no real evidence
to support that.

Take them down.

Take that shit down.

What shit?

Hey, boy. Think I wouldn't
take you out right here

on Main Street, Red?

Thought you only took out
black dudes, Dixon.

No! No! Stop it.

You ever fucking touch me,
motherfucker...

You drunk?

- Are you drunk right now?
- Get up.

Nobody ever goes
down that road anyways.

Unless they got lost.
Or they're retards.

Don't be nervous,
is the main thing.

It will go just fine.

Don't look into the
camera, obviously.

Let's hold
for this car.

In three, two, one.

So, Mildred Hayes, why did
you put up these billboards?

My daughter, Angela,

was abducted,
raped and murdered

seven months ago

along this selfsame
stretch of road.

What you watching,
Momma? Stupid news?

Seems to me
the local police department

is too busy
torturing black folks

to be bothered doing anything
about solving actual crime.

I thought these billboards

might concentrate
their minds some.

Fuck.

I don't know
what the police are doing.

I do know that my...

...daughter's burnt body
is lying six feet underground.

They're eating
Krispy Kremes

and busting eight-year-olds

for skating
around parking lots.

And Chief Willoughby,

why single him out?

He's the head of them.

Buck's gotta stop somewhere.

And the buck
stops at Willoughby?

Yeah.
Dead right it does.

You all right
there, fella?

Looks like we got a war
on our hands.

Can we talk?

I'd do anything
to catch the guy

who did it,
Mrs. Hayes.

But when the DNA
don't match

no one who's ever
been arrested,

and when the DNA don't match
any other crime nationwide,

and when there wasn't
a single eyewitness

from the time
she'd left your house

to the time we found her,

right now there ain't
too much more we can do.

Could pull blood from every
man and boy in this town

over the age of eight.

There's civil rights laws
prevents that, Mrs. Hayes.

What if he was just
passing through town?

Every man
in the country, then.

What if he was just passing
through the country?

If it was me,
I'd start up a database.

Every male baby what's
born, stick them on it,

and as soon as he done
something wrong,

cross-reference it,

make 100% certain
it was a correct match,

then kill him.

Yeah, well, there's
definitely civil rights laws

prevents that.

I'm doing everything I can
to track him down.

I don't think those
billboards is very fair.

The time it took you
to get out here

whining like a bitch,
Willoughby,

some other poor girl's
probably

being butchered
right now.

But I'm glad you got
your priorities straight,

I'll say that for you.

There's something else,
Mildred.

I got cancer.

I'm dying.

I know it.

Huh?

I know it. Most everybody
in town knows it.

And you still put up
those billboards?

Well, they wouldn't be
as effective

after you croak.
Right?

Well, looky looky.

If it ain't
the instigator

of this whole goddamn affair
in the first place.

I didn't
instigate shit, Dixon.

Playing pool
against the town midget.

He's right, Red,

you are playing pool
against the town midget.

He's a cop,
he's observant.

I always disliked you,

ever since you was
a snotty little child.

You still look like
a snotty little child.

That's unfortunate. I always
thought you was great.

Even your name, Red Welby.
Even your name I disliked.

Well, okay.

Like you was some kind of
goddamn communist

and proud of it.

No, it's because
I got red hair.

You know what they do
to faggots

down in Cuba, Welby?

Wow, that's left field.

No, what do they do to
faggots down in Cuba, Dixon?

They kill them.

Which, it might surprise you
to learn, I'm against.

I'm not sure if they do
kill faggots

down in Cuba, Dixon.

I know Cuba's human rights
record's pretty deplorable

when it comes to
homosexuality,

but killing them?

Are you sure you ain't
thinking of Wyoming?

Always gotta be
the smart-ass, Jesus.

He's quite good,
isn't he?

Hey, Willoughby's a good man.
Hey, look at me. Look at me.

I'm talking nice
to you now, aren't I?

I'm talking nice to you.

He's a good man.

Shouldn't have this be the
only thing he thinks about,

last months left to him.

Last months what?

Oh...

You didn't know?

Yeah, pancreatic.

I'm up next. You old
ladies quit yakking.

Rude.

Hey, Mildred.

I saw you on TV
the other day.

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah, you looked good.

I mean, you know,
you came across really good

in the things
that you were saying.

I didn't think you
came across real good.

I thought you came across
as a stupid-ass.

Ain't it about time
you got home

to your momma, Dixon?

No, it ain't time
I go home to my momma.

I told her I was gonna be out
till 12:00, actually.

Jesus.

That's me versus you,
Mildred. Uh-huh.

Hey, Robbie.
I think that midget

wants to get in my pants.

Father Montgomery.

Mildred. I'm sorry to be
calling on you so late,

but, uh...

I must say, Robbie has
been the consummate host.

Despite his having had,
as he was just telling me

somewhat of a tricky day
at school.

Just some of the guys
on the team giving me crap.

Crap about what?

About the billboards,
Mildred.

Which is what I've come to
have a word with you about.

Oh. Proceed.

I know how hard it's
been for you, Mildred,

this past year.
We all do.

And if there is ever
anything that you need,

we will be there for you.

Always.

But the town also knows

what kind of a man
William Willoughby is.

And the town is dead set

against these billboards
of yours.

Took a poll,
did you, Father?

If you hadn't stopped
coming to church,

you'd have a little bit
more understanding

of the depth
of people's feelings.

More than a dozen people
came to me on Sunday.

So, yes, I took a poll.

Everybody is with you
about Angela.

Nobody is with you
about this.

You know what I was
thinking about today?

I was thinking
about those street gangs

they have
down in Los Angeles,

those Crips
and those Bloods.

And I was thinking about
that bunch of new laws

they came up with

in the 1980s,
I think it was,

to combat those street gangs,
those Crips and those Bloods.

And, if I remember rightly,

the gist of what those
new laws were saying was,

if you join
one of these gangs,

and you're running
with them,

and down the block one night,
unbeknownst to you,

one of your fellow Crips,
or your fellow Bloods,

shoot up a place,
or stab a guy...

Well then, even though

you may not know
nothing about it

and you were just standing
on a street corner

minding your own business,

what these new laws said
was you're still culpable.

You're still culpable
by the very act of having

joined those Crips
and those Bloods

in the first place.

Which got me thinking,
Father,

that whole
type of situation

is kinda like you
church boys, ain't it?

You got your colors,
you got your clubhouse.

You're, for want
of a better word, a gang.

And if you were upstairs

smoking a pipe
and reading your Bible

while one of your fellow
gang members

is downstairs fucking
an altar boy, well...

Father, just like those Crips,
and just like those Bloods,

you're culpable.

Because you joined
the gang, man.

I don't care
if you never did shit,

you never saw shit,
you never heard shit,

you join the gang,
you're culpable.

And when a person is culpable
to altar-boy-fucking,

or any kinda boy-fucking,

because I know you guys didn't
really narrow that down,

then you kinda forfeit the
right to come into my house

and say anything about me

or my life, or my daughter,
or my billboards.

So why don't you just finish
up your tea there, Father,

and get the fuck
outta my kitchen.

But thanks for coming up
anyway, Father.

How you been
feeling, Bill?

Ah, like I got cancer
in a major organ.

Well, I just want you to know
we're all on your side

about this
Mildred Hayes thing.

If I have to hear that
one more fucking time...

I'm done with this shit.
I can't waste my life waiting.

Stop reading
fucking comic books

and get me the file
on the Hayes case.

Angela Hayes case
or the Mildred Hayes case?

There is no
Mildred Hayes case.

We've had
two official complaints

about those billboards,
so, actually...

From who?

There's a lady
with a funny eye

and a fat dentist.

Get me the file
on the Angela Hayes case.

"Lady with
a funny fucking eye"?

Jesus Christ.

Late night?

No.

Lay off that Welby guy,
will you?

Or you'll do what?

Kick your momma's
fucking teeth in.

No, you won't.

Who told you I was laying on him anyway?
The midget?

What the fuck
are you talking about?

And I'm trying
to fucking concentrate.

Fucking midgets!

What you looking for
anyway?

There's nothing
to look for.

I don't know what it is.

It feels like
it's kinda waggling.

Well, if it's waggling,
it's gonna have to come out.

Ain't you gonna
take a look at it first?

It's gonna have to come out.

Can I get a little
Novocaine there, doc?

Give it a couple
of minutes.

There's a lot
of good friends

of Bill Willoughby
in this town.

No! Ow! Stop! No!

God damn it!

Then why don't you tell
those good friends

of Bill Willoughby

to tell him to go do his
fucking job, fat boy.

Hey, Mildred.

You didn't happen
to pay a visit

to the dentist today,
did you?

- No.
- Huh?

I said "no".

So it wasn't you
who drilled a little hole

in one of big fat Geoffrey's
big fat thumbnails, no?

- Of course not.
- Huh?

I said "of course not".

You drilled a hole
in the dentist?

Denise, no, I didn't.

I thought it was
kinda funny myself,

but he wants
to press charges,

so we're gonna have to
bring you in, I'm afraid.

So how's it all going

in the nigger-torturing
business, Dixon?

It's persons-of-color-torturing
business, these days.

If you wanna know,
I didn't torture nobody.

What's the matter
with you,

saying that
goddamn stuff on TV?

My momma watches
that station.

She doesn't know
about the torturing?

No. She's against
that kinda thing.

Who's against what?

My momma is against
persons-of-color-torturing.

She said
"nigger-torturing".

I said, "You can't say
'nigger-torturing' no more.

"You gotta say
persons-of-color-torturing."

Isn't that right, Chief?

Ain't that right?

I think I'll be able to
take care of Mrs. Hayes

on my own
from here on, Jason.

Sure, Chief.
I'll be right outside.

Don't give me that look.

If you got rid of every cop
with vaguely racist leanings,

you'd have three cops left,

and all of them are gonna
hate the fags.

So what are you gonna do,
you know?

I wanna know something,
Mildred.

Why did you drill a hole

through poor fat
Geoffrey's thumbnail?

That did not happen.

His hand slipped.

He drilled a hole
through his own self.

Did he say I did it?

I guess it's his word

against mine, then, huh?

Kinda like in all those
rape cases you hear about.

Except, this time,
the chick ain't losing.

It ain't really about winning
or losing, though,

is it, Mildred?

You think I care about
who wins or loses

between the two of youse?

You think
I care about dentists?

I don't care about
dentists.

Nobody cares
about dentists.

What I do care about,
or what I'm

interested in

is tying you up
in court so long

that your hours
at the gift shop

be so shot to shit

that you ain't gonna
have a penny

to pay for another
month's billboards.

That's what
I'm interested in.

I got some dough
put away.

But what I heard was
you had to sell off

your ex-husband's
tractor-trailer

to even pay for this month's
billboards, that right?

How is old Charlie,
by the way?

He still shacked up with
that pretty little intern

works down at the zoo?

Still shacked up with some
chick smells of shit.

I don't know if the zoo's
got anything to do with it.

Although I'd hope so.

How old is she?
Nineteen?

That must smart.

Keep trying.
Keep trying.

What's Charlie think about
these billboards of yours,

an ex-cop like Charlie?

Ex-cop, ex-wife-beater.

Same difference,
I guess, right?

His word against yours,
though, right?

Charlie don't know
about them, does he?

It's none of his business.

He's kinda paying
for them, though.

I'm paying for them!

This month you are.

How about when...

I didn't mean to...

I know.

It was an accident.

I know, baby.

It's blood.

I'm gonna go
get somebody.

Hey!

Just let her go.

Come on, Chief.

Just let her go!

Easy, easy, easy.

Hey...

Do birds get cancer?

Huh?

Birds. Do they get cancer?

I don't know. Dogs do.

Yeah, well, I wasn't talking
about dogs, was I?

Great, the good old "Raped
While Dying" ride home.

If there was two seconds
in a day

when I wasn't thinking
about how she died...

"Think about it some more,
why don't you?"

As much as
a person might have

tried to avoid the details
of what happened

because he didn't think
it would do any good,

and he couldn't
bear it,

it's also good to be informed
in 20-foot-high font

the precise details
of her last moments.

That it wasn't enough
that she was raped

and it wasn't enough
that she died, no.

"Raped While Dying."

Thank you, Mom.

I gave you
the police reports.

I didn't read them.

I'm depressed enough
as it fucking is.

Mom?

Yeah?

You ain't going out
again tonight, are you?

Denise and I are gonna
grab a couple of beers.

Denise gonna be
driving you?

Why don't you just
ask to borrow the car?

- Can I borrow the car?
- No.

Bitch!

I will give you money
for a taxi

if you ask nice
and don't call me a bitch.

Why make me ask if you
weren't gonna let me?

It was funny.

And because you've been
smoking pot all day.

- You are such a hypocrite.
- Hypocrite?

- Yeah.
- How?

Drove drunk
when we were kids.

What are you
talking about?

Daddy told me.

When did you see him?

Don't change the subject.

Did you drive drunk with us
in the car when we were kids?

Once, maybe.

Okay, once?

When he was in the middle
of beating the shit out of me.

Which we've only
got your word about!

Angela, for Christ sakes.

Why are you
never on my side?

I'm always on your side when
you're not being a cunt!

Hey!

There will be no more
"cunts" in this house.

Are you moving out?

It was a gag.

Are you gonna let me
borrow the car or what?

Why don't you
just walk, Angela?

You know what?
I will walk.

And you know what else?
I hope I get raped on the way!

I hope you do too!

Gonna need to keep you
in a few days, Bill.

You shouldn't be
coughing up blood.

Yeah, I kinda
guessed that, Doc.

I'll swing by
in the morning.

Anne.

I guess I'll go
get your coat, huh?

Well, you know
I ain't staying.

You know
I ain't arguing.

Oops.

You old cunt.

I'm not old, Robbie.

That's Dad.

Hey, Dad.
How's it going?

Where's the crazy lady?

Kid has got Rice fucking
Krispies in his fucking hair.

What's going on?

What's going on with these
fucking billboards?

Kinda self-explanatory.

Why don't you
explain it to me?

Guess it ain't
self-explanatory, then.

I wanted certain
people's minds

kept on certain
people's jobs, is all.

Hadn't heard from them
in seven goddamn months.

I've heard an awful lot
from them

since I put them
billboards up.

You think this has
focused their minds? Mmm?

It's focused their minds
on how exactly

are they gonna
fuck you up.

The more you keep a case
in the public eye,

the better your chances
are of getting it solved.

It's in
all the guidebooks.

How much
these billboards cost?

About the same
as a tractor-trailer.

What the fuck
are you laughing at?

Nothing.

Laughed at by a guy

with fucking cereal
in his hair.

How's Penelope?

Huh? She's all right.

Why don't you
invite her in?

Save leaving her
sitting out there.

- She here?
- She's out in the car.

That explains it.

That explains what?

I know
I smelt something.

Let her go!

Oh! Um, I kinda need
to use the bathroom,

but if it's inconvenient...

Actually, it is
inconvenient, isn't it?

I can hold it.
It's all right.

It's the first door
down the hall.

Sure? I feel like
I'm intruding.

Just go pee.

Oh.

Look, you said
what you came to say.

So why don't you go
get zoo girl

and get the hell out of
my house, all right?

Um, actually, zoo-wise,
they were letting people go

at the zoo,
unfortunately,

and it was a case of
"last in, first out". So...

Unfortunately the zoo
had to let me go.

But they were looking
for people

down at the horse rides
for the disableds.

So I'm working
down there now,

looking after
the disableds' horses.

Don't say a word.

I wasn't gonna say a word.

You don't think I don't wish
it had never happened?

You don't think I don't wish
she was still here?

I know you do.

I know you do.

Billboards ain't gonna
bring her back, Mildred.

Neither is fucking
19-year-olds, Charlie.

Yeah?

But I know that.

Just go.

Yeah, all right.

I'm such a shitty dad

and you're such a great mom.
All right.

So how come a week
before she died

she's asking if she can move
in with me at my place?

Couldn't stand you bitching

and fighting
with each other no more.

I don't believe you.

I said, "Stay,
your mom loves you."

Now I wish I hadn't.
She'd still fucking be here.

I don't believe you!

Don't believe me.

Ask Froot Loop boy.

Is that true?

I don't know, Mom.

Yeah, you do.

What's the matter?

Nothing.

Oh, come on,
not Donald Sutherland again.

What is this, frickin'
Donald Sutherland season?

I like him.
I like his hair.

Hair?

This is the one
where his little girl dies.

Always a plus in a movie.

Talking of dead kids,

what's happening
with the billboard lady?

Oh, that kooz
won't listen to reason.

She's tough as an old boot.

Oh...

Why don't you just
fuck her over

through her friends then?

Huh?

You know, why don't you
fuck her friends over?

Bring her around
that way.

She got any friends
you can fuck over?

Rat bastards.

Hey, fuckhead!

What?

Don't say "what", Dixon,

when she comes in
calling you a fuckhead.

- And don't you...
- Shut up!

You, get over here.

No! You, get over here.

All right.

What? Dixon!

You do not allow a member
of the public

to call you a fuckhead
in the station house!

I'm taking care of it
in my own way.

Now get out of my ass.

Mrs. Hayes, have a seat.
What can I do for you today?

Where's Denise Watson?

In the clanger.

- On what charge?
- Possession.

Of what?

Two marijuana cigarettes.

Big ones.

When is the bail hearing?

I asked the judge
not to give her bail

on account of her previous
marijuana violations,

and the judge said "sure."

You fucking prick!

You do not call an officer
of the law a fucking prick

in his own station house,
Mrs. Hayes.

Or anywhere, actually.

What's with the new
attitude, Dixon?

Your momma
been coaching you?

No.

My momma

doesn't do that.

Take them down,
you hear me?

You did good, Dixon.

Yeah, I know I did.

Almost got that.

The rules here are twofold.

No kid can leave
this goddamn blanket

at any goddamn time.

And every single one

of these dolls
and these teddy bears

has got to be hooked up.

Now, your momma and I,

although it won't
look like it,

we'll be watching
every goddamn move you make.

So the most important thing
while we are watching you

is that you do not
leave this blanket.

Next most important thing,
you do not at any stage

allow the fishing rods

to stick into you
or your sister's eyeballs,

as this would be
counter-productive

to the entire operation.

What would it be?

Counter-productive
to the entire operation.

Then, troops,

start fishing.

We are not.

We are.

Yes.

Hey, baby.

Yeah,
still no arrests.

How come, I wonder?

Because there ain't no God,
the whole world's empty,

and it doesn't matter
what we do to each other?

I hope not.

How come
you came up here

outta nowhere
looking so pretty?

You ain't trying
to make me believe

in reincarnation
or something, are you?

Because you're pretty,
but you ain't her.

She got killed,

and now she's dead forever.

I do thank you
for coming though.

If I had some food
I'd give it to you.

All I got is some Doritos.

They might kill you,
they're kind of pointy.

Then where would we be?

Yeah, so I, uh,
just happened to be looking

over our contract that we
drew up back that time.

What I realized was I...

I realized that although
payment is to be made

on the first day
of each month,

the first payment you paid
was actually a deposit.

Wasn't it?
It's like we said.

So, actually,
in point of fact,

you're actually behind
in your payments now,

by, yeah, a month.

Yeah, that's, uh...

It's what the contract says,
looking over it and all.

The lawyer says so too.

When you need
this next payment by, Red?

Well, now, really.

Or by... Uh...

Friday?

Wow.

When you can't
trust the lawyers

and the advertising men,

what the hell's America
coming to, huh?

Who got to you, Red?

Willoughby?

Nobody got to me.

My fat fucking ass.

He's dying, Mildred.

We're all fucking dying!

Hi, Pamela.
We're a little bit busy

at the moment,
if that's okay.

I know you were
real anxious

about talking to Mrs. Hayes
this morning...

Anxious? No.

No need to be, because
you won't believe it!

A little Mexican delivery boy
just dropped in with this.

What the hell is this?

I know!

It's $5,000! And guess
what the note says?

It says to pay for the rental
on Mrs. Hayes's billboards.

Can you believe it?
That's why I butted in.

Who's it from?

Doesn't say.

- Well, where's the delivery boy?
- He went.

Did you see what company
he was from?

No.

What kind of uniform
did he have on?

Well, he just looked
like one of those

fat little Mexican boys.

On a bicycle.

Did I do
something wrong?

No, Pam,
you did good.

Yeah, Pamela,
you did real good.

Did I? Oh, great.

Ain't life crazy?

What's the note say, Red?

Says, "This here money
is to go towards the fund

"for Mildred Hayes's
billboards,

"because she ain't
the only one 'round here

"who hates the pigs.
Signed, a friend."

I guess you can't be too picky
about who your friends are

these days, huh?

Uh-huh, um...

I guess I'll be needing
a receipt off you there, Red,

you know, saying the price
of next month

is paid in full and all.

Oh, sure, Mildred, sure.

Like now.

Oh, sure.

Is Mommy drunk, Daddy?

No. She's just got a
little migraine, is all.

Little Chardonnay
migraine.

Now, no more chit-chat
outta you two, okay?

Can we stay home from school
again tomorrow, Daddy?

We'll see what your mommy
says in the morning, darling.

Aw!

Eyes closed

and go to sleep, okay?

You don't smell like puke,
which is good.

Aquafresh.
Trick I learned.

Women, huh?

But it's still your turn
to clean the horseshit

outta the stable,
you know.

Those fucking horses.

They're your fucking horses.

I'm gonna have those
fucking horses shot!

I'll do it,
you lazy bitch.

Thank you, Poppa.

That was a real nice day.

That was a real nice fuck.

You got a real nice cock,
Mr. Willoughby.

Is that from a play?

"You got a real nice cock,
Mr. Willoughby."

I think I heard that
in a Shakespeare one time.

You dummy.

It's Oscar Wilde.

Ah.

Oscar Wilde.

My darling Anne,

there's a longer letter
in the dresser drawer

I've been writing
for the last week or so.

That one covers us
and my memories of us

and how much
I've always loved you.

This one just covers tonight,
and more importantly, today.

Tonight I've gone out
to the horses to end it.

I cannot say sorry
for the act itself,

although I know
that for a short time

you will be angry at me
or even hate me for it.

Please don't.

This is not a case of,
"I came in this world alone

"and I'm going
out of it alone,"

or anything dumb like that.

I did not come
in this world alone,

my mom was there.

And I am not
going out of it alone,

because you are there,

drunk on the couch,
making Oscar Wilde cock jokes.

No, this is a case,
in some senses, of bravery.

Not the bravery
of facing a bullet down.

The next few months of pain

would be far harder
than that small flash.

No, it's the bravery
of weighing up

the next few months
of still being with you,

still waking up with you,
of playing with the kids

against the next few months
of seeing in your eyes

how much my pain
is killing you,

how my weakened body,
as it ebbs away,

and you tend to it,

are your final and lasting
memories of me.

I won't have that.

Your final memories of me
will be us at the riverside

and that dumb fishing game,
which I think they cheated at,

and me inside of you
and you on top of me

and barely a fleeting thought
of the darkness yet to come.

That was the best, Anne.

A whole day
of not thinking about it.

Dwell on this day, baby,

because it was the best day
of my life.

Kiss the girls for me,

and know that
I've always loved you,

and maybe I'll see you again
if there's another place.

And if there ain't, well,
it's been heaven knowing you.

Your boy,

Bill.

What the hell's
going on around here?

What?

Can you stand now?

Yeah, I can stand.

I'd better
get out there,

say something to them.

You ain't gonna
faint again, are you?

I know
that the best thing,

the only thing to honor
that man's memory right now

is to go to work.

Is to be a good cop.

To walk in his shoes

and do what he did
every day of his life.

Help people.

What the hell's going on?

Where are you going, boy?

You fucking pig!
What the fuck are you?

Shut up.

See, Red, I got issues
with white folks too.

Fuck you looking at?

Reports,
sadly, have come in overnight,

that Chief William Willoughby
of Ebbing, Missouri

took his own life
early this morning

in the grounds of his home.

This report just in
from Gabriella Forrester.

Tragedy
came calling today

upon this quiet family home
outside Ebbing, Missouri,

belonging to
Chief Willoughby,

his wife, Anne,
their two young daughters,

Polly and Jane.

What appears to be a
self-inflicted gunshot wound

brought life to an end
for Chief Willoughby,

a man highly-respected
in Ebbing

for his diligence
and service to the community.

What led him to take his life

in the early hours
of this morning,

it is too early to speculate.

There were rumors of illness.

Could it simply have been
the pressures of the job?

Or could it have something
to do with a story

we ran here
just two weeks ago

of these billboards,

and the woman
who put them there,

Mildred Hayes?

Don't. Don't!

Hi, there.

You know
who threw that can?

What can?

How about you, sweetheart?
You know who threw that can?

Uh, no, I didn't see.

Thank you, Mom.

And what can I do
for you today, sir?

What's your name?

Name's on my tag, man.
You hard of reading?

Hard of reading?
No, no.

That's good,
"hard of reading".

Kinda like
"hard of hearing",

but it's actually
"hard of reading".

Like a play on words
or something, huh?

What do you want?

I've been sent
to take over

from Chief Willoughby

in light of last night's
unfortunate event.

You have got to be
fucking kidding me!

Do you have any documentation
to prove that, sir?

You really wanna see
my documentation, fucker?

Yeah, see his documentation!
Make him show it to you.

None of you cracker motherfuckers
got no work to do?

Ain't that racist?

What happened to your hand,
Officer Dixon?

Oh, I just kinda

banged it up
a little bit

while I was throwing some guy
out a fucking window.

You know, the usual.

Yeah?

They never taught me
that one at the academy.

Which fucking academy
you go to?

How are things coming along
on that Angela Hayes case?

How's things coming along

on the mind your own
fucking business case?

How are things
coming along

on the hand me your gun
and your badge?

Huh?

Hand me your gun
and your badge.

Shit.

It's in here somewhere.

Hey, listen,
I can't find my badge.

No, seriously.
Maybe I lost it.

Dropped it when I was
doing that window guy.

Just get the fuck out of
my station house, man.

What's going on?

I think I just got fired.

Fired or suspended,
I'm not sure which.

Fired.

Anything I can help you with,
just give me a holler.

Give Mildred Hayes

a holler.

Okay.

You know me?

Only from the TV
and the radio.

How much these here

"Welcome to Missouri"
rabbits go for?

Seven bucks.
It's writ right on them.

Guess he ain't
seven bucks now.

What did you
come in here for?

What did I
come in here for?

Maybe I'm a good friend of
Willoughby's, how about that?

Are you?

Or, you know...

Maybe I was a friend of
your daughter or something.

How about that?

Were you?

Or, um...

You know,
maybe I was the one

who fucked her
while she was dying.

How about that?

Were you?

No.

I would have liked to.

I saw her picture
in the paper there.

Saved by the bell, huh?

You owe me seven fucking
dollars for the rabbit.

Guess you'll have to
get it off me

next time
I'm passing through.

Guess I will.

You don't know how
glad I am to see you.

What?

That guy was
trying to scare me.

I wouldn't have said
you scare easy.

I ain't the worst.

What can I do
for you, ma'am?

My husband
left this for you

before he shot himself
in the head last night.

I'm sorry,
Mrs. Willoughby...

Are you?

Are you really?

- Sure, I am.
- Surely this is the perfect ending for you, isn't it?

Proof those billboards
of yours were successful,

a dead policeman?

It's quantifiable now.

Are you blaming
this on me?

No.

I'm not blaming
this on you.

I just came
to give you the letter.

Now my little girls
are out in the car,

so I'd better not
stay and chat.

I'm not quite sure
what we're gonna do

for the rest of the day.

It's hard to know
what to do

the day your husband
kills himself.

It's hard to know
what to do.

Dear Mildred,

Dead Man Willoughby here.

Firstly, I wanted
to apologize for dying

without catching
your daughter's killer.

It's a source
of great pain to me,

and it would
break my heart to think

you thought I didn't care.
I did.

There are just some cases

where you never
catch a break,

then five years
down the line

some guy hears
some other guy

bragging about it
in a bar room or a jail cell

and the whole thing
is wrapped up

through sheer stupidity.

I hope that might be true
for Angela, I really do.

Second, I gotta admit,
Mildred,

the billboards were
a great fucking idea.

They were like a chess move.

And although they had
absolutely nothing

to do with my dying,

I'm sure that
everyone in town

will assume that they did,

which is why, for
Willoughby's counter-move,

I decided to pay
the next month's rent on them.

I thought it would be funny,
you having to defend them

another whole month

after they've stuck me
in the ground.

The joke is on you,
Mildred, ha ha,

and I hope
they do not kill you.

So good luck with all that,

and good luck
with everything else too.

I hope and I pray
that you get him.

Well, you want me to go
down and talk to them?

No, I don't want you to
go down and talk to them.

Somebody sending
their goddamn mother

down to talk
to the goddamn police?

To say what?

To say to give you
your job back.

Get rid
of that black guy.

Ain't gonna listen
to some guy's mother

asking them to get rid
of some black guy.

Things have moved on
in the South.

Well, it shouldn't have!

Will they give you some money
for being laid off and all?

I don't know what the
compensation scheme is

for when you throw a guy
out of a window, Ma.

Guess I should have
looked into that beforehand.

Let me Google that.

A couple of grand, maybe?

You been there three years.

Not counting the five years
at the academy.

Six,

if you count the year
you were held back.

Where are you going?

None of your business.

Off to see your fancy woman?

I don't got a fancy woman.

Yeah. I know.

Hey, you wanna
watch yourself.

Or, or you'll do what?

I'll blow your goddamn
head off, that's what.

Oh,
did you hear the news?

What news?

That Dixon guy
threw that Welby guy

out of his window
this morning.

You're shitting me.

Is he okay?

Mmm-mmm.

- You're shitting me!
- Whoa!

Holy shit!
Holy shit!

Holy shit!

Fuck!

Get the other one
from the house.

Shouldn't I call
the fire department?

Fuck them.
They probably started it.

Don't do anything stupid!

Scumbags!

Fucking, fucking scumbags!

Shit!

All right!

Are you kidding me?

What the hell
are you doing?

Okay. Good. Come on.

Leave it! Ma, please!

It's too late!

- Robbie...
- Leave it! Please!

Robbie!

How are those hands?

Give us a minute here.
Thank you.

Can I ask you
a couple of questions?

You can ask me all the
questions you want,

you take me down
and arrest me.

I'm not gonna arrest you,
Mrs. Hayes.

I got nothing
to arrest you for.

Not yet you ain't.

We ain't all the enemy,
you know.

I'll crucify
the motherfuckers.

What are
you gonna do, Mildred?

You gonna crucify them?

Yeah, I'm gonna crucify them.

Who you gonna crucify?

The motherfuckers?

Yeah, I'm gonna

crucify the motherfuckers.

Ooh, then those motherfuckers

better watch out, all right?

Fucking A.

What's this shit?

And as sad as the spectacle

of these burned out
billboards might be,

in light of the death
of Chief Willoughby,

this reporter for one

wonders if this
finally puts an end

to the strange saga
of the three billboards...

This doesn't put an end
to shit, you fucking retard,

this is just
the fucking start!

Why don't you
put that on your

Good Morning Missouri fucking
Wake Up broadcast, bitch!

I see on the TV there
were a bunch of fires

lit outside of town
last night.

Bunch of fires, huh?

Out at those billboards.

Back when I was a cop
I would have been

interested in
who set those fires,

because, technically,
that's arson,

but as I'm no longer
employed by those people,

I don't really
give a goddamn.

I'll get it.

Dixon residence.

Hey, Dixon, it's Cedric.

Oh, hey, Sarge.
You got any news?

- News about what?
- I don't know.

About my job and stuff?

No. No. What?

No.

Anne Willoughby
just dropped in a letter

that Bill wrote you
before he died.

What's it say?

I haven't read it,
it's not my letter.

Oh, well, listen,
I'll come right down.

Um, I'll be there
in like 15 minutes.

Well... Uh...

Not such a great idea,
things as they stand, Jason.

You still got your keys

to the station house,
though, right?

Yeah.

Why don't you
come and pick it up

after everyone's gone home?

I can leave it
on your desk for you.

Oh, okay.

Actually, yeah, then

when you're done, you can

just leave the keys,

you know, save us
picking them up later.

All right.

Jason, Willoughby here.

I'm dead now,
sorry about that.

There's something
I wanted to say to you

that I never really said
when I was alive.

I think you've got the makings

of being
a really good cop, Jason.

And you know why?

Because deep down
you're a decent man.

I know you don't think
I think that,

but I do, dipshit.

I do think
you're too angry, though.

And I know it's all
since your dad died,

and you had to go
look after your mom.

But as long as you hold on
to so much hate,

then I don't think
you're ever gonna become

what I know
you wanna become.

A detective.

Because you know what you
need to become a detective?

And I know you're gonna wince
when I say this...

But what you need to become
a detective is love.

Fuck 'em.

Because through love
comes calm,

and through calm
comes thought.

And you need thought to detect
stuff sometimes, Jason.

It's kinda all you need.

You don't even need a gun.

And you definitely
don't need hate.

Hate never solved nothing.

But calm did.
And thought did.

Try it. Try it
just for a change.

No one will think
you're gay.

And if they do,
arrest them for homophobia.

Won't they be surprised.

Good luck to you, Jason,
you're a decent man.

And yeah, you've had
a run of bad luck,

but things are gonna change for you.
I can feel it.

Calm.

Calm.

Calm.

What did you see?

When we turned the corner
from Spring,

the fire was
already raging, and

about two seconds later
the cop fella,

he just jumps
out of the window.

Wait... The two of you turned
the corner from Spring?

Where were you
before this?

Round my place.

You two boyfriend
and girlfriend?

Early stages, you know.

Is that right?

We had a couple of dates.

You wanna go out to
dinner with me next week?

Yeah, I'll go out
to dinner with you.

But I ain't gonna
fuck you.

Well, I... I ain't gonna
fuck you neither.

I guess.

Burn victim. He's
pretty heavily sedated.

Hey, man.
You doing okay?

Jeez, you got burned up
pretty bad, huh?

You'll be okay though.

You want a glass
of orange juice?

I got a straw somewhere.

Hey, hey...

Don't cry.

You'll be okay.

I'm sorry, Welby.

You know me?

I'm sorry.

You're sorry for what?

Throwing you
out the window.

Sorry.

I don't care!

Stop fucking crying,
God damn it!

The salt will just
fuck up your wounds.

I thought it was
good for wounds.

What am I,
a fucking doctor?

Who is it?

Oh, you don't
know me really.

Well, what do you want?

I come about the billboards.

What about them?

They got burned up.

I know that.

I'm one of the guys who put
them up in the first place.

Jerome.

What can I do
for you, Jerome?

When you put up a bunch
of posters like that...

Just in case any of them get
screwed up or torn, they...

Give you a set of
duplicates, you know?

No, I didn't know that.

Ladder's pretty steady
as it is there, James.

That's okay.
I like holding ladders.

Takes me out of myself.

- Need a hand?
- Hey.

- When did you get out?
- An hour ago.

Judge threw it out.

Said the arrest report
weren't filled out right.

Mmm.

Say, you...

You didn't burn down the
police station, did you?

No, she was with me
the whole night.

- Why would you...
- It's a long story.

Hey.

Hey.

Still wanna put up
the Willoughby one,

him being dead and all?

Why not?
He paid for it.

True.

Look at this
fucking asshole.

- First round is on you?
- Yeah.

Well, here we are.

Here we are.

I like cheesy things.

I'm gonna look
for cheesy things.

All right.

Who's that?

My ex-husband.

And his
19-year-old girlfriend.

You wanna leave?

No, no. Deal's a deal.

It was fucking wild.

I think I was certifiably
fucking insane

for a while back then.

When was this?

About nine,
ten months ago.

Were you on your own?

I had a couple
of buddies with me.

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.

They fuck her too?

I think they got their
kicks just watching, you know.

Oh, yeah?

Yeah.

Was she hot?

Once the gasoline
kicked in she was hot.

Swear, I wanted
to fuck her even more

right then and there.

I don't know if I could
get that out of my mind.

I ain't going down
for that shit,

last fucking day
down there.

He been there
the whole time?

Who?

Burnt face Jake. Keeps
fucking walking up and down.

I don't know.
I don't think so.

- Another round?
- Yeah.

Eight bucks.

Maestro.

Can I help you
with something?

Excuse me?

Looking over here
all fucking night.

Unless you've got
something to say,

why don't you take
your burnt fucking face

and get the fuck
out of here?

What are you doing?

Wait, wait, wait...

Just trust me, okay?
Do you like magic?

Just trust me.

Just do the fucking
trick, man.

Okay.

What the fuck!

Hey.

Hey!

- That's enough!
- What's it to you, fucker?

Guy is a cop, man.
He's a cop.

Oh, yeah?

He ain't wearing
no badge.

I lost my badge.

Can't remember
where I lost it.

You started this.
I didn't do shit to you!

I know I started it.

I scratched you up
like a bitch.

That's exactly
fucking right.

I'm gonna go use
the little boy's room.

You got something
to say to me?

If I'd known, we could
have double dated.

Doesn't shit girl
have a curfew weeknights?

No.

I was gonna take her
to the circus later,

but there's no need now.

Does he juggle?

I'm having dinner
because he did me a favor.

You don't
have to explain

why you're having dinner
with a midget.

I'm not explaining
myself to you.

You kind of are.

I didn't come here
to break your balls.

You can date as many
midgets as you want.

I came to say
I was sorry, actually.

Sorry for what?

Sorry about what happened
to your billboards and all.

It's all water under
the bridge, I guess.

Good.

I'm glad.
I was pretty drunk,

but it still
don't excuse it.

All this anger, man.

Penelope said to me
the other day...

"It just begets
greater anger."

You know? It's true.

Penelope
said "begets"?

Yeah.

"It begets
greater anger."

Well...

You take care of this
little lady, okay, sport?

Big lady
compared to you, right?

- You all right?
- I think I wanna go home now.

Don't give me
any shit, James.

We'll do it another night,
all right?

Why would I want to?

You've been embarrassed
ever since we arrived.

For Christ sake.
I didn't force you

to come on this date.
You forced me.

Forced you?

I asked you on a date.

Wow. You know...

I know I'm
not that much of a catch.

I know I'm a dwarf
who sells used cars

and has a drinking problem.

But who the hell
are you, man?

You're that
billboard lady who

never smiles,

never has a good word
to say about anybody,

and who,
in the evening times,

sets fucking fire
to police stations!

And I'm the one
who's not a catch?

Hey!

You know, I didn't have to
come and hold your ladder.

Now, don't make a scene.

Did you really tell him
"Anger begets greater anger"?

Oh! Yes! I did.

I didn't make it up
myself though.

I can't claim that.

No, I read it
on a bookmark.

Which was in a book
I was reading.

About polio.

Polo. No. Which is the
one with the horses?

Polio or polo?

- Polo.
- Polo.

Be nice to her,
Charlie.

You got that?

Jason!

- Jason.
- Don't look at me.

What have they
done to you?

Leave me, Momma.

No. No!

Open up this door!

Please, Jason.

I love you. Please.

You're my baby boy.
Open this door.

Please.

Jason, please.

Please.

Please open the door.

Open up!

Jason!

I'm all right, Momma.
It's all gonna be all right.

I don't wanna get your
hopes up, all right,

but there is a guy,
and I think

he might be the guy.
I got his DNA.

Got a lot of it,
actually.

They're making the checks
as we speak.

He's in jail?

No, but he ain't
gonna be hard to find.

Why do you think
he's the guy?

I heard him
talking about

something he did
to a girl last year.

I couldn't hear
all of it, but...

It sounded a lot like
what happened to Angela.

And then he beat
the crap out of me.

But because of that,

I got a bunch of his DNA.

So, I wanted to

let you know sooner
rather than later.

I didn't want you
to give up hope.

I've been trying
not to.

Well...
All you can do is try.

As my momma says,

it's not so much
about hope as about...

Well, I didn't used to be

very good at English
at school.

So it was more
"All you can do is try

"to not be so crap
at English."

Because you need English,
really, if you wanna be a cop.

If you wanna be
anything, really.

Unless you live in Mexico
or something.

Who wants that?

Hey, Dixon?

Thank you.

You did good, Jason.

You did real good.

But he wasn't the guy.

What?

There was no match
to the DNA.

No matches to any other
crimes of this nature.

To any crimes at all,
in fact.

And his record is clean.

Maybe he was
just bragging.

He wasn't just bragging.

Well, that's as may be.

But at the time
of Angela's death,

he wasn't even
in the country.

Where was he?

I've seen his records of entry
and exit to the States,

and spoken to his CO.

He wasn't in the country,
Dixon. He ain't our guy.

No, he

might not be our guy,

but he still done
something shitty.

I know he did.

Not in Missouri
he didn't.

Where was he?

That's
classified information.

Oh, come on, man.

If the guy
has a commanding officer,

and if the guy
got back to the country

nine months ago,

and if the country
where he was is classified,

which country
do you think he was in?

Hey, you know...

I'll give you a clue.

It was sandy.

That doesn't really
narrow it down.

All you need
to know is that

he didn't do nothing
to Angela Hayes.

So, we're gonna
keep looking.

All right?

I found my badge
after all.

Hello?

It's Dixon.

Tell me.

He weren't the guy.

Mildred?

Are you sure?

He... He weren't even in
the country when it happened.

So, whatever he did,
he didn't do it round here.

I'm sorry I got
your hopes up.

That's all right.
That's all right.

At least I had
a day of hoping,

and that's more
than I've had for a while.

I gotta go.

There was, uh...

There was one thing
I was thinking.

What's that?

I know he ain't
your rapist.

He is a rapist, though.
I'm sure of that.

What are you
saying to me?

Got his license plate.

I know where he lives.

Where's he live?

He lives in Idaho.

That's funny.

I'm driving to Idaho
in the morning.

Want some company?

Sure.

- Hey, Dixon?
- Yeah?

I need to tell you
something.

It was me that burned down
the police station.

Why, who the hell else
would it have been?

Dixon?

Yeah?

Are you sure
about this?

About killing this guy?

Not really. You?

Not really.

I guess we can decide
along the way.

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