(orchestration plays)
(animal screeches)
(animal screeches)
(animals screech)
(faint radio transmission)
(radio transmission continues)
(sighs)
(garbled radio transmission)
(radio transmission continues)
(yells)
(gurgles)
(gunfire)
(music plays)
Cease fire!
Cease fire! Heads up!
Man down! Cease fire!
(echoes):
Stupid motherfucker!
(gasps)
(coughs violently)
(panting)
(distant dogs barking)
(speaking Spanish)
(speaks Spanish)
S.
(goat bleats)
(distant siren wailing)
What's up, Sylvia?
Cute little outfit.
You look nice.
Mike's in
the bedroom.
Yeah?
(TV news playing)
Man, I said
you look nice.
I have a court
appearance, Jim.
Well, you just
give 'em hell.
Hey.
Spiffy duds, huh?
(door opens)
You look like
a gift-wrapped turd.
Now please leave me alone.
I have to concentrate.
I have two filings
and a deposition today.
Play nice, kids.
What up, dog?
- Nothing. Just got back.
- Cool. Cool.
How was Mexico, dog?
Oh, it was a dream, man.
- Loving my woman.
- Right.
That's it.
I'm out of here.
Those are copies
of your resum.
Pass them out like candy.
'Cause I can always
print up more.
And just call me
if anything happens, okay?
And no drinking.
Come on, baby, be cool.
Honey, I'm serious.
No drinking. Okay?
- I love you.
- I love you, too.
Good luck.
Your suit's fine, okay?
Dude, she called me
a gift-wrapped turd.
(laughing)
Don't be fucking
with her, dude.
She's pissed.
Why is she on
the warpath? Dog...
I didn't look for work
yesterday, dude.
Sold some of her CDs,
bought a couple of 40s
and a pack of GPCs.
Caught a buzz
and watched
my Chicago Vs. Lakers tapes.
(laughs):
That's on you, homie.
We didn't even
hang yesterday.
I was out of the country.
So? My old lady still
thinks it's your fault.
Huh? Huh? Hmm?
Come on, dude, let's get
the fuck out of here
and find my ass
some employment.
It's cool you driving me around?
Yeah, dude, it's cool.
It's no trouble.
(music plays)
JIM:
Here, asshole.
Breakfast.
Oh... ho, ho...
Dog.
No pisto for me, dude.
Today's a no-pounding day.
You heard the woman.
Good. More for me.
Fuck it.
Salud.
Salud.
Man, hope they put me in
the next class or I'm fucked.
I can't pay my rent.
Landlady's about to pull
a gauge on my ass.
What happened to all that money
you saved in the army, dude?
The tax-free shit?
Man, bro, this fucking
ride cleaned me out.
I guess we drank
up the rest.
(chuckles):
Dumb ass.
(laughing)
Cops better start
paying you, dude.
You spend enough
fucking time with them.
They better start kicking me
down some paychecks, man.
They got me hopping through
hoops, you know?
"Come in for a test."
"Come back in two weeks."
Another test, another two weeks.
Fuck.
Shit gets real,
you be hating life.
Party time will be over.
Dude, you don't know how much
I'm looking forward
to this shit.
You know, I'll be super recruit.
I was jumping
out of choppers
in the mountains,
taking down
hard motherfuckers,
you know?
I'll be laughing my way through
LAPD's reindeer games.
Shit, they're
gonna love me.
Yeah, yeah, you're gonna
fucking love them, dude.
Ah, fuck you.
I'm going to love my old lady.
I'm gonna marry homegirl.
Import her ass.
Oh, come on, man.
Dude, what happened
to all the honeys
we were gonna pimp
with your badge, dog?
You're fucking up the plan.
I've been thinking, you know?
Love's about sacrifice.
Only true measure of it.
What would you do for Sylvia?
Get a job.
- Mm...
- Nine to fucking five.
Yeah.
That's love.
Hey.
Good morning.
MIKE:
So when do you officially
hand your ass over to the Man?
"Mr. Jim Davis,
we regret to inform...
I had two beers, right?
Yeah.
Going fucking
blind or something.
Okay, this letter
says, quoting...
"no longer eligible
as a police officer candidate."
What the fuck does that mean?
Come on, dude.
"no longer eligible"? I mean,
what does that sound like?
They pulled the plug, dude.
No, no...
Why?
Oh, man, I'll bet you...
I'll bet you it's
'cause I'm white.
I bet it's 'cause
you're a dick.
No, no, no, Mike,
you don't understand.
I am fucked.
I got to get married.
Okay? INS won't let me
bring Marta across
unless I got employment.
I promised her.
This fucks up my plan.
This is fucking bullshit, okay?
This... these fucking
assholes...
These fucking assholes!
What the fuck
is their problem, man?!
This is fucking typical
cop hate game bullshit!
Yo, yo, fucking
chill, Magilla Gorilla.
I mean you're trippin', dude.
Hey, what the fuck
are you looking at, asshole?!
Fucking dick.
Yo, yo,
Jim, Jim...
I'm gonna fucking kick your
teeth down your puke hole!
You fucking want some?
Jim, Jim, dude.
Kick back, dude.
The fucking light is green.
Get the fuck in the car.
Man, fuck.
- You're going to catch
a case doing that shit, man.
What the fuck were you doing?
Fuck the LAPD, man.
What's up with Pasadena,
Pomona, Santa Ana and all that?
Oh, no, fuck the sticks.
L.A. City's the shit.
Hey, Sheriff's Department.
It's good enough for the INS
and still basically L.A., right?
Yeah, Sheriff's Department,
yeah.
They make you work
the jails the first two years
or something.
I could be cracking heads
up at the Honor Ranch.
I'll give 'em a call,
start testing.
Yeah.
That's right.
Yo, it's just
a minor setback, right?
Quit trippin', dude.
Shit.
Hey, you know what
I want to do?
What?
I want to get fucked up.
Me, too, man.
I got to find a job and placate
my baby, you know.
Sylvia's going
to kick your ass?
Come on, big man,
she'll be cool.
Come on.
(Korean pop music playing)
- Bye, Nicole.
- Bye.
Let me get a couple
of singles, too, please.
Sorry, you buy whole pack.
Be cool, dude.
If I buy a whole pack
I'm gonna want
to smoke it.
I just want a couple
of smokes with my beer.
City give me $1,500 ticket.
No more.
(speaking Korean)
(speaking Korean)
Asshole.
(speaking Korean)
(yelling)
(gunshots)
- Thank you, sir.
- Thank you, sir.
Oh, shit.
That fucking gangster, man.
Homeboy just ran
a six second four-forty.
Damn, the chino looked
fucking pissed, man.
You think we'll be able
to go back there?
I hate that shit.
Fuckin' chino lookin' at us
like we were gonna bust him?
Come on, dude.
We're wearin' suits, man.
We totally look like cops.
He said he got fined
for that shit.
He was just being cautious.
Well, we got pisto,
we got frajos.
Only one thing missin'.
Be-at-ches.
Oh, yeah, I mean
besides bitches, man.
Yesca?
Mm-hmm.
Bingo.
I need to feel
some reefer madness.
You sure you want
to score some bud, dude?
You haven't smoked out
since like forever, man.
I said I want
to get fucked up, man.
Fuck this purity bullshit.
Yeah... fuck purity.
Aw, man, look at this
zero-head, dog.
Stupid-ass cholo.
Look at that.
That dude's slangin', dog.
Want to get
a dime?
JIM:
No, I want it all.
Go for the stash, man.
Whoa, go, go, go.
Hey, hey, yo, yo.
That's my shit!
Fuck.
(laughing)
Outstanding.
Out-fucking-standing.
That shit was slick.
That motherfucker
just got schooled.
Bitch-ass cholo.
- Check this shit out, huh?
- Yeah.
Nice motherfucking haul.
You see that shit, huh?
Mm. It's not laced either.
Smell that shit.
Smell that motherfucking shit.
We just burned my car.
We go back there,
we're gonna get shot.
Yeah, no shit.
Man, bust that light.
Roll that shit up.
Yeah, yeah, Cool.
Yo, let's drop off
some resums first.
Then we'll smoke out, dude.
Some resums.
Yeah.
Ah, man, fresh air.
Look.
Oh! They're
dropped off, man.
You fucking asshole, man.
I got to get
a fucking job, man.
What's your problem, man?
What the fuck are
you doing, dickhead.
Yo, Mike, first day looking--
nobody ever gets a job
their first day looking.
Come on, don't
sweat it, man.
Hey, I can't
fuck around tomorrow.
I got to get a job for sure.
This is your job, man.
So act like a fucking
professional,
spark up the goods, 'cause we
got a lot of work to do.
It's harsh. It's good, though.
You okay?
How are those lungs, baby?
There it is.
That magic feeling.
Damn, look at that bitch.
Oh, damn.
Fuck, yeah.
She's fucking good.
I bet she got skills.
I want to get laid.
You just saw your woman.
Only hit her once, man.
We can't go nowhere alone.
They got me sleeping in the car.
Family's got that ass
under guard, huh?
Lock and key.
Fuck, I want to get laid.
Pay a visit
to my harem, huh?
Online, pornmeister.
Uh-uh, let's go
to Letty's pad, man.
How much you want to bet
I hit it.
- She won't, dog.
- How much you want to bet?
She won't give you shit, dog.
You big time
fucked her over.
Aw, man, I popped that poodahey.
I got that mind control, man.
How much you want to bet
I get back up in it?
You ain't got 20 bucks.
So, neither do you, man.
Come on, shake on that shit.
Come on.
What the fuck, let's go.
(knocking)
I got it.
What's up, Patty?
- Y tu hermana?
- She ain't here.
Y sabes que?
You're not welcome
in this house.
Sure, Patty.
I'd love to come in.
Thank you.
Are they here?
You're looking fine,
as fuck, chulas.
Don't... don't touch
me, please.
Hey, hey.
You got to get out of here.
Letty...
I just wanted
to see you again.
Hey, Patty, you want to grab
me a pisto or something?
I ain't grabbing you shit.
Oh, you still got
a mouth, huh?
Maybe one day you'll learn
how to keep it shut.
Laters. I'm going to my room.
You know you have to run
his ass out of here.
Baby.
Let's sit down.
No, no, no.
So, um...
You a cop yet?
I'm working on it.
Y tu?
Que andas haciendo?
Well, you know, I'm going
to L.A. Trade Tech.
It's good you're doing
positive shit.
What, after everything
I don't get a kiss?
It's because of everything
you can't get a kiss.
Oh, come on, come here.
Yeah.
Don't.
Jim, I got a boyfriend.
Who?
Flaco.
You're back with that
piece of shit after
what he did, Letty?
You're not fucking him, are you?
Please tell me no.
Yes. So... just go.
'Cause there's nothing
here for you, Jim.
See?
Okay?
I don't believe
this shit, Letty.
You're too good for that.
(car horn blaring)
You gotta go.
Go. Please!
Let me talk to them.
No, Jim, don't
be stupid. Please.
Okay? Largate. Just go.
I guess it's later days.
Largate. Just go!
Flaco, the pinchi guero's here!
Apuarte, Jim!
Hurry up!
- Fuck him up!
- I got him!
Fucking white boy!
What's up, faggot?!
We're going to fuck you up!
(all shouting)
Yo! pop the trunk
so I can handle this shit!
Fuck you, puto!
I'll bust you!
Leave him alone!
Pop the fucking trunk!
(grunting)
Jim!
(gunshot)
Oh, you fucked up!
Get your fucking knees
down on the curb now!
Get the fuck
over there, man!
Don't fucking move unless you
want your brains hanging out!
What's your problem, Flaco?
Motherfucker!
Fucking knees on the curb, man!
That's right!
Interlock your fingers
behind your heads, Flaco!
You deaf fuck!
Yo, Mike.
Yeah?
Do up their ride.
Freeze, bitch!
I'm going to take that big ass
of yours home,
hit it for a minute, you know?
Fuck off!
Now you got it.
Yo, relax, homie.
You break Letty's heart,
I'm coming for your mom.
Fuck!
Hey, haina.
Whoo!
Fuck off!
Oh, yeah?
What you got down here?
(whistles):
Oh...
Liking that.
Damn! Those are
badass kicks, dog.
Lucky you got little bitch feet,
else I'd be stomping around
in them motherfuckers.
- Fuck you, puto.
- Huh?
- Yeah. Fuck you.
- Yes?
You fucking stay still!
Bitches! If you didn't have
that fucking gun,
ese, it wouldn't
be about shit, homie.
Not fucking shit!
Hey, later, Patty!
I hope you're not
pregnant, but you know
you wanted me to blow in you.
Fuck you!
Bye, Letty!
Salud.
Salud.
Divvy up the bounty, dude.
I know you got some cash.
I know I got more than that.
Yeah. Here we go.
Shit.
That's my pussy
she's giving away there.
Homeboy uses extra large.
Man, that's it?
Next time,
jack someone with a job.
Well, fuck you.
What did you get, their lunch?
Check it out.
Holy shit.
You're kidding me.
Whoo! It's a fucking
Ruger P-94. Nine millimeter.
It's a good fucking gun.
Durable.
It's brand-new.
It's a BB gun.
Yeah. Cool.
Here you go, dog.
About time you got a cohete.
No. I don't want it.
Why the fuck not? I'll use it.
That's a good reason. Sell it.
How much you think
we can get for the gun?
Two bills, maybe three.
Costs six new.
We'll sell it
and split the greenery.
You sure?
It's cool, dude.
Good BB gun though.
Shoot some birds and shit.
Hey, put that shit away.
Looks real as hell.
Not a bad day's work.
Get down to business though.
I know you didn't get any.
So pay up, motherfucker.
Dick.
Hello. This is a message
for Michael Alonzo.
This is Bob Luell
at the Palm Glen Group.
We have reviewed your resum,
and would like
to make an appointment
for later in the week.
Please call me at your
earliest convenience.
Thank you.
Huh? That's good.
One more? This is fun.
Sounded a little gay,
but it was good.
No, no, no. no.
That's it, dude. That's it.
I get too many callbacks,
Sylvia's going
to get suspicious.
Oh, Sylvia's going
to be kissing your ass.
Not if she
recognizes your voice.
Oh, she won't. Here, sir.
No, no, no, no, no.
I'm cool.
- Come on.
- I'm cool.
I want to get home before the
little woman and sober up.
Come on, bro. One brew.
All right, but hey,
I got to look for a job
tomorrow for sure.
Okay? I can't
be getting fucked up
behind Sylvia's back
when I'm supposed
to be looking
for work, man.
Not cool.
Tomorrow, for sure.
I got to find a job, too.
(phone rings)
Hello.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir. That is correct.
Six years.
Honorably discharged.
Yes, sir.
I would love to.
Believe me, I would
welcome the opportunity.
Tomorrow
is not a problem.
Thank you, sir.
You have a good day, too.
Good-bye, sir.
That was the man, huh?
You're all "Sir,
sir, sir."
Yes! Fucking yes! Thank God!
That was the man!
That was the Federal man!
The Federal man!
Department of
Homeland Security
wants me to come in
tomorrow to start testing!
Oh, shit!
Fucking A, my brother!
That shit is righteous,
motherfucker!
It's on, homie!
Wow, man.
Tomorrow.
So what the fuck you
going to do now, dude?
I got to take a piss test.
If I'm cool,
I'm in the house.
Yeah! Oh!
Shit, dude,
do they piss test for weed?
Oh, shit!
You fucked up, man.
Oh, fuck.
I fucked up.
Oh, fuck. I fucked up.
Fuck! Oh...
You know, one dope
molecule, and I'm done.
And they will burn me
with every law enforcement
outfit in the country.
Shit!
Wait, wait, wait,
wait, dude.
Look at me. Look at me.
Look at me. Look at me.
Hey, there's a way out
of every fucking situation.
- Right? Relax, dude.
- Yeah, yeah.
Yeah. I'm going to do
what I got to do, you know?
It's cool. Fuck, yeah.
I'll pass that shit.
Hell, yeah. Yeah.
Of course
you will, dude!
Later, loco.
Don't fucking trip, dude.
All right.
(sighs):
Shit.
Eat.
(knocking on door)
Come in, dumb ass!
What's up, dog?
What up, dog...
Hey, Jim.
Want some coffee?
Sure.
Want some eggs?
There's extra.
Yes, ma'am. Please.
I, uh, heard
about the LAPD.
Sorry about that.
I thought they
guaranteed you a job.
Yea. Me, too.
Well, maybe it
wasn't meant to be.
You know, you being a cop.
Tell her what's up, dude.
Well, I applied
to all the Federal
law enforcement agencies.
You know, ATF, Border Patrol,
ICE, Homeland Security,
all of them.
And Homeland Security's
interested in me.
They want me to come in today
and start testing.
Wow. That's great.
How sure is this?
Well, I got a urinalysis today.
If I pass that, I'll be
a Special Agent candidate,
and then I could
be out of here next month.
You haven't been
smoking out, have you?
Nah. Chilled on that shit
a while back.
Good. Well, thanks for driving
Mike around yesterday.
- Yeah, sure.
- Yeah, bro.
Three callbacks.
Damn! Good!
We dropped off
enough resums. Whoo!
Got more.
- Yeah!
- Yeah!
Well, you have
to keep trying
until something happens.
Finding a job is a job, right?
Lunch money.
Thank you.
And good
luck today.
Thank you.
- Love you.
- I love you, too.
Good luck.
And, Jim, good luck
on your pee test.
I hope you studied.
I'm going to
cram for it.
Man, that's freaky.
She was in
a good mood.
Breakfast
and beer money?
Yeah, dude.
She heard the
messages last night.
She got me a sixer.
I slammed two last night.
Out-fuckin'-standing!
Now we know beer is just
a phone call away.
Yeah.
Yeah. We talked shit out
last night, though.
You know? Hey, all she wants
is for me to get a job.
I shouldn't be playing her
like that.
Dude, you had a good job,
with that, uh, with
that Web design shit.
Had, dude. Had.
All right? All that
shit's in India now.
Want a cold one?
No, later.
You got any vinegar?
Vinegar? What for?
(exhales):
Ah...
(groans):
Oh...
Damn, dude!
Ah...!
(blabbers)
- Man!
- That is fuckin' sick, man.
What'd you do that for?
- Shuts down the old kidneys.
- Ooh.
Come on, let's roll.
Grab me that bag, dude.
Little trick I learned
in the service.
Aw, that's sick, dude.
You're gonna stick
a turkey baster in your dick?
Quit looking, faggot.
You wish.
(quiet grunt)
(loud groaning)
(groans):
Oh, man.
(yells in pain)
Fuckin'...
shit, dude.
Oh, fuckin' shit...
- (pained grunting)
- Aw...
Aw, motherfucker!
(gasps, groans)
Whew!
Ah...
(inhales)
(groans)
That was...
unpleasant.
(quiet groan):
Man...
(clears throat softly)
Man, I want to get
this shit over with.
You know, my teeth are floating.
(Jim groans)
Oh...
You get those
in the military, dog?
I was a Ranger.
Your mom still suck
a mean dick, hmm?
Gotcha! Shouldn't ignore people.
Why don't you go
fuck yourself!
Hey!
Let's play nice,
boys.
I have everyone's "Consent to
Urinalysis" form signed
and dated, am I right?
ALL:
Yes, sir.
Good. I'm Agent Richards.
Jackets off.
I will now administer
the easiest test
Homeland Security
will ever give you,
the whizz quiz.
Roll up both sleeves
past the elbow.
Remove all gloves, rings,
watches, bracelets,
jewelry, Band-Aids
and bandages.
I want to see nothing
but bare hands and forearms.
Wiggle your fingers.
Let me see
both sides.
Beautifully done.
Again, gentlemen,
no talking.
Detweiler, is it?
You're with me.
(blows sharply)
(blows softly)
(blows loudly)
(whispers):
Fucker.
(door opens, closes)
RICHARDS:
Next!
Name?
Davis, Jim.
Ah, the Ranger.
Yes, sir.
- You serve?
- 101st.
- High speed.
- All right.
Think you can fill that, son?
I could fill
a goddamn trash can, sir.
(laughs): You're full of piss
and vinegar, aren't you, Jim?
Yes, sir.
##
Hey, unload that shit before
you clown with it, okay?
I don't want my head
blown off
just when I'm getting
it straight.
Pop! What's it like
to just straight-up
whack a motherfucker?
What's it like?
I mean, what the fuck, you know?
It's like nothing.
What's it supposed to be like?
You tell me.
You were busting heads
for the military.
I can't talk about
this shit, Mike.
But I will tell you one
thing-- you point and shoot,
pop, pop, move on, fuck 'em,
they shouldn't have been there,
you move the fuck on.
You do not stop
and think about it.
- It's not a big deal.
- So if it's nothing,
then what you getting
all mad for?
I'm not getting mad.
I just hate stupid
questions, Mike.
You think you killed
a lot of Commies?
- They weren't Commies, dumb ass.
- Then what were they?
You know what they were--
they were fuckin' Hajjis,
terrorists, the bad guys.
Did you like it?
(quietly): Oh, shit.
Did you dig it?
You bust a nut?
(popping sound)
Not fuckin' now, man.
Seriously.
You're killing my buzz, dude.
Aw, kick back, stress case.
Are we on a mission to
sell this piece or what?
Hell, yeah.
Let's sell this
fuckin' piece.
Got to get some scratch,
you know what I'm saying?
Pop! Pop! Pop!
(dog barking in distance)
(loud music playing over stereo)
# Don't lay your funky trip
on me... #
Yo, Darrel!
- Yo, yo, yo, Darrel!
- Wake the fuck up, Darrel!
- (loud music continues)
- (banging on door)
Darrel!
Come on, come on, come on,
wake up and fuckin'
shine!
(loud music continues)
Y'all need to knock
this shit off right now.
- (Mike chuckling)
- Hey, what's up, bro?
(both talking indistinctly)
Come on in, motherfuckers.
(mocking gibberish)
Yeah.
Get your little
ass up in here.
Shit!
# Brother, please! #
Oh, man...
y'all scared
the fuck out of me, man.
(chuckling)
You motherfuckers
got ties on.
I saw that city-lookin'
car pull up--
I thought y'all was
some rollers or shit.
(chuckles quietly)
I just got out of County.
- $9,600.
- No shit. When?
Yesterday.
MIKE: Damn. What'd
they put on you?
Some bullshit.
I saw some wrong-ass shit
up in there, dude.
I ain't ever going back
to that motherfucker.
It scared you straight, huh?
- Mm-hmm.
- Hey, you get booty-played?
(laughing)
Hell, no.
You over there tickling
your brown eye, dog?
They-they put some jelly
on there, serve some syrup?
- You toss the salad?
- Hey, you know, nigga,
I kept my ass to the wall
and my mouth shut.
Shoot.
I almost lost my job
over that shit.
Fuckin' around in there.
Oh, God...
- You a cop?
- Nope.
Rejected his ass.
Fuck you.
I'm getting
in the Feds' car.
(laughs):
Damn...!
That's what I'm talking about!
Ah, you hear that?
This motherfucker
gonna be a Fed.
Yeah.
You been wanting that shit, too.
It's my dream, dude.
So, you gonna do
that shit right,
or, you know, you gonna do
a little shit on the side?
I'm gonna get
my own thing going.
You know, I'll be flipping shit,
make a little money.
- You know?
- (laughing)
This motherfucker
gonna have shit wired.
Scary, huh?
(Jim clears throat)
Check this shit out.
Oh, hello!
(chuckles):
Oh-ho-ho-ho!
This is sweet!
We jacked some eses.
Got a BB gun, too.
- A BB gun?
- Yo.
Goddamn!
This is a nice little machine.
Three bills, it's yours.
I ain't got
three bills, dog.
My lawyer cleaned me out.
(sighs):
Man...
I ain't got no ways
or means, homie.
I need this shit, too.
Bring the heat
to these motherfuckers
trippin' around here.
We need ends, dog.
Who'll give us
three bills for it?
Hey, uh, I know a cat.
Hangs out at, uh... La Licha
on, uh, Santa Fe.
Yeah, I know that place.
He cool?
Oh, man, he's old school,
real cool.
Veterano named Eddie.
He there today?
Oh, that's just like
his living room, dog.
Mm.
Yeah. Yeah, I'll hook you up.
Don't worry about it.
Cool, cool.
Yo, uh...
Y'all need to
come up, dog.
Can you do me a favor?
Sure.
You mind calling my pad
and leaving a fake message
so my old lady thinks I'm
out there looking for a job?
Instead you out
getting fucked up.
(both laughing)
Can you hook me up,
or what, dog? Huh?
Yeah? All right.
Check this out.
Uh, just call, right?
(coughs)
And say you're from
that place right there
and that you want
to schedule an interview, dude.
Man, y'all some devious
motherfuckers, man.
(laughing)
(mumbles)
Hey, hey, make sure
she can't star-69 my shit.
Nah, she's...
Serious, man.
I ain't trying to break up
no shit on this.
All right, it's ringing.
Here you go.
- Be serious, dude.
- Hey, hey,
don't sound like a
fag, either, man.
That's how he be sounding.
(clears throat)
Uh, Mr. Alonzo,
I'm calling
from Sunhouse Properties,
uh, to schedule an interview.
Uh, please call me back
at 213-555-
Oh...
damn, dog!
That shit was
good, dude!
Damn, they should give you
a fuckin' Oscar for that shit.
That shit was cold, man.
- Playing your woman like that.
- Aw, come on, man.
I did three yesterday--
she bought him a six-pack.
- Yeah.
- (laughs)
What's one call get you,
a fuckin' 40
of St. Ides?
I'll be like this. Look.
- (all laughing)
- You know you would!
You know you would!
Bitch-ass motherfucker.
(laughter continues)
This is good
shit, right?
I told you it was
some good shit, dog.
Hey, we got to bounce.
Oh, no, no, no, no.
No, no, y'all just
got here, dog.
Can't happen.
- Come on.
- Yo, uh, tell that guy Eddie
that we're gonna cruise through
there a little later.
Okay?
- Aw, yeah.
- Later, man.
I wish I had the money.
That's a sweet-ass
piece, though.
That shit'll keep
the porch clean.
Motherfuckers like y'all
won't be banging on my shit.
Hey, Jim.
We should lose
the monkey suits, dude.
(music playing)
Quien es?
Hey, bring us,
dos pistos, por favor,
mi reina.
Damn.
(whistles appreciatively)
Hey, dog, I don't
think they like us here.
Fuck 'em.
I got my shit.
They make a move,
I'm blasting.
Which one of these fools
is Eddy?
Yeah. I don't know.
They're all paisas here.
Hey, why don't you ask
that homegirl right there?
Sientate, guapa.
Mm.
Habla Espanol?
Si.
Que bien.
Sabas donde esta
el Eddy?
Eddy, te hablan.
Que paso?
Do I know you?
My homeboy Darrell said
to talk to you.
Darrell?
Yeah.
I'm Jim, homie.
What's up, man? Mike, dog.
All right.
So what's up?
Need a cohete?
Maybe.
What kind?
Ruger P-94, brand-new.
Ruger, huh?
Yeah.
How many mags?
One high cap.
I'll throw in the hollow points.
Strictly Black Talons, homes.
Homies be wearing
vests these days,
know what
I'm saying?
Is it new?
Yeah, it's brand-new.
Where's it at?
I can get it.
How much?
Three bills.
I'll give you $250
if it's new.
If not, I'll give you $200.
Cool.
You got the feria, homie?
I can get it.
Orale.
Let's kick back,
have a couple pistos
before we handle business, eh?
Hey, guero, you like her?
I do need to get laid.
There it is right
there, brother.
Yo, give me that cohete.
(women screaming)
Mataste a un flor.
Oh, shit!
Open the fucking door!
(engine starts)
MIKE:
Holy shit, dude!
(laughing)
You think he's gonna
fuckin' die?!
Sure. Got his carotid.
Fucker was garden-hosing.
He'll bleed out.
Oh, shit, dude,
I've seen dudes get shot, man,
but I never seen
no motherfucking shit
like that before, man!
Fucked his shit up, you know?
Quick as shit, too.
That crack-crack!
Turned that vato into
a fountain of blood.
Why the fuck
did he do that, man?
That shit could have been
over anything, you know?
Money, drugs, bitches,
respect, whatever.
That homie, straight-up pimp.
You know, maybe he turned out
that dude's daughter.
Looney tunes and shit,
glass all stuck
in his fuckin' neck.
Did you see all that fuckin'
blood over there?!
Yeah, man, the human body's
got a gallon.
Damn!
I coulda boned Gracie.
She had that proper thickness.
Look at me, dog.
Look at me.
I'm fuckin' traumatized
and shit.
Yo, homie, that shit
don't fuckin' faze you at all?
Oh, man,
I seen way worse.
Trashcanistan.
My battle buddy, he got his legs
and arms blown off
by a booby-trapped motorcycle.
Medic saved his ass
and he lived.
He didn't want to, but he did.
I got to face my woman.
How in the fuck am I supposed
to play this shit off, huh?
Man, you'll do it, player.
(siren wails in distance)
Hey, baby girl,
you cooking?
Yeah. Where have you been?
Oh, Jim's pad.
You been drinking?
Oh, you know,
I had a few brews.
A few?
Yeah.
You look wasted.
(gasps)
Don't trip, girl.
I've been working
all day.
I've been looking
for work all day.
I wish I could hang out and
get wasted like the old days.
You know what?
When I'm working,
you can lounge.
I'll fix this place up,
get you nice clothes
and stuff...
Mike, Mike, Mike.
It doesn't have anything
to do with money.
Come here.
Sit down. I want
to talk to you.
Hey, it's not
about stuff.
It's about you and me
needing an equal partner.
Right.
Hey, I know that you
supported me through college
and I'm gonna always
- owe you for that.
- Right.
Now everything's flipped
and I feel like I'm doing
everything alone.
You know, sometimes
I feel like you're my kid.
I mean, you sneak
around like one.
Oh-ho!
Look... Wow, dude.
I'm sorry.
Be cool, baby girl,
I'm on a mission
to get my shit together.
I applied at this commercial
realty company in Studio City,
and this black guy,
he was the office manager
and he's fuckin' hella cool,
you know? We're talkin'
and all that shit.
You know? We're just kickin' it
and all that.
Did you, did you
check the messages?
Four messages.
DARRELL:
Mr. Alonzo, I'm calling
from Sunhouse Properties
to schedule an interview.
Honey, this is great!
Mm, mm...
Oh! Oh...
You better call him
first thing in the morning.
Yeah. Yeah, yeah.
MIKE:
Oh, damn, dog,
that shit was good, dude.
Damn, they should give you
a fuckin' Oscar for that shit.
(machine beeps)
You just stood there
and you fed me a line of
bullshit like it was nothing.
You should be
the lawyer.
How could you just do that?
How could you look me in the eye
and lie to me like that?
I'm sorry.
I'd rather you hit me.
I'm your clown.
I'm your fucking clown.
And you and Jim
are laughing at me?
No, it's not...
No, no, no, you are so utterly,
irrevocably busted!
Why don't you just go play
with your little butt buddy?
Go cook up more lies.
You know, I bet
you're doing lines again.
Dude, how could you say
that shit?
I'm not fuckin'
doing lines again.
Yeah, right, right.
I'm not fuckin'
doing lines again!
Right now your word
is less than shit.
Maybe you should go.
Just fuckin' go.
Just fuckin'... just go, right?
Fuck it.
I'll fuckin' go!
Please, go. Go!
Fuck it then!
I'll fuckin' go!
Then go, Mike!
I'm serious!
I'll fuckin' go
except I won't fuckin'
come back!
You want me to fuckin' go?!
Fuckin' go, Mike!
I'll fuckin' go then!
I'll fuckin' go!
Get the fuck outta here!
(phone rings)
Hello?
Speaking.
Of course, sir. Absolutely.
Thank you very much,
Agent Richards.
Thank you, sir.
Who was that?
That was the feds,
my friend.
I've been informed that I passed
my urinalysis
and they would like me
to go in this morning
to start formal testing.
Fuck yeah, dude.
I'll be there all day,
so take my ride,
get your ass a job.
Let's go.
Oh, shit!
Come on. Get your
parasitic ass in gear.
(groans)
I had some twisted-ass dreams
about that dude being killed.
I slept like a baby.
I heard screaming.
What kind of tests?
Psychological tests.
Geez, you're
a freakin' psycho, dude.
Don't answer that shit
honestly.
Hell no.
They use the Minnesota
Multiphasic Inventory.
It's like 600 questions,
cross-referenced
to detect deception.
They ask the same shit
six different ways.
It's lame.
You'll ace it.
Dude, I'm gonna pull it off.
All I needed was a shot.
Gotta play the system.
Like a piano.
You done
with that crap, son?
Yes, sir.
Let's grab some coffee
while these guys finish up.
Bring that with you.
(whispers):
I see dumb people.
We reviewed
your LAPD package.
Since they ran your background,
physical and psych,
we're going with
their paper.
- Navy sucks.
- Army swallows.
Took a little work to
pry your jacket loose
from their people.
They don't much like us poaching
from their applicant pool.
Move it, dirt bag.
Why'd they drop me?
Someone here make a call?
Nope.
They dropped you
on psych, Jim.
You blew
their profiles.
We're all a little
goofy here.
You'd rather be with us,
wouldn't you?
Absolutely, sir.
Good answer.
Have a seat.
Said you were bilingual
on your app.
They want to test your Spanish.
We can get that going
if you got time.
Yes. Sure.
Who's "they"?
Your fans upstairs.
Fans upstairs? Who?
This is some shit
above my pay grade,
but some very important people
have an eye on you, Jim.
RECEPTIONIST:
Westside Realty Management.
How may I direct your call?
(distant phone ringing)
Please hold.
Okay, Mike...
Alonzo?
Oh, shit. Joe?!
Damn...!
What's up, dog?
- Mikey, look at you.
- What are you doing here, dude?
Mikey, man, check you out.
What the fuck you doing here?
Fucking grew up. I work here.
- Get out of here.
- Yeah.
Dude, you got to come on up.
Yeah, I'll show you
the office.
Fuck, you're gonna trip, man,
I can see the ocean
and everything.
Check you out, fucking
ocean view and all that.
You're wearing a suit now.
- Got your hair cut.
- Hey, watch out, baby.
Yeah. Tag no more, huh?
No, man.
Dude, what's up with
your brother, Pedro?
Oh, man, he's in Iraq.
He's in a forward unit.
Get the fuck out of here. Yeah.
(muttering):
Fuckin' Mexicans.
Bye, sweetie.
Thank you, sir.
I need me some of this, man.
I've been taking piss all day.
Dude!
What?
You're not going to
- fucking believe this.
- What?
- I had an interview today.
- Yeah?
- Remember Crazy Joe?
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Dude stomped that guy's
face in at Taco Land
for grabbing his chick's ass.
Homeboy got his shit
together, man.
Went to UCLA.
Works at this office
up in Century City.
I got the hookup, dog.
- 12 an hour.
- Hoo-hoo!
- That's a lot of lettuce.
- That's right.
And in three months,
I get benefits.
Damn! Benefits?
- Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
- Shit!
Yeah!
It's not for sure yet,
though, dude.
I still got to
meet the owner, right.
But he says I'm straight.
It's all good, you know.
You're in.
Dude...
I'm in.
Oh, shit.
Yeah...
What happened?
They want my ass, man.
Going back tomorrow
for a polygraph test.
If I pass that, they'll
send me to Georgia next week.
Oh...! Damn!
It's like that?!
What's up, lawman?
Whoo-hoo!
How you gonna pass
a lie detector test,
- you lying motherfucker?
- Aw, easy, man.
After every question,
you just fucking squeeze
like you're taking
a dump, you know, man.
- It throws the machine off. Ooh!
- Oh, dog.
You're gonna shit your
pants like that, bro.
Fuck, I think I just did.
All right, Jim,
I'm going to ask you
some control questions
before we get
to the good stuff.
They can be answered
just "yes" or "no."
Just relax and
respond naturally.
(mouse clicks)
Are you ready?
Yes, sir.
You can just answer
"yes" or "no."
(mouse clicks)
"Is your name
Jim Luther Davis?"
Yes.
"Do you live in Los Angeles?"
Yes.
"Are you 26 years old?"
Yes.
"Are you married?"
No.
(mouse clicks)
"Are you wearing shoes?"
Yes.
"Have you ever smoked
marijuana?"
Yes.
"Aside from the occasion you
mentioned in your application?"
No.
Jim, knock it off.
What, sir?
Son, I've been doing
polygraph examinations
since you were swimming
in your daddy's balls.
So I know all the tricks.
You've either got a tack
in your shoe
or you're clinching
your butt.
I've got spikes
all over this thing.
If you do it again,
I'm going to void this test
and report that you
were uncooperative.
Do you understand?
Yes, sir.
Walk with me.
We've got a problem, Jim.
With what?
With your candor.
(knocking on door)
Come in.
He's here, sir.
Bring him in.
Jim, this is Mr. Hollenbeck,
our regional director.
Pleased to meet you, sir.
Have a seat.
Mr. Gillespie.
Pleased to meet you, sir.
Jim, uh...
you're an exemplary candidate
with valuable
operational experience.
You've cleared the psych
and physical hurdles.
Your credit's good,
you've kept your nose clean,
you've got the Spanish.
You clearance is still valid.
Everybody we talked to
for background
had only great things
to say about you.
And then you scored a
negative-five on the polygraph.
That's indicative
of deception.
We were wondering why
until we got the results
of urinalysis.
We detected THC metabolites
in the urine, Jim.
Levels were just below
the positive threshold,
but there was a presence.
Do you have a drug
problem, Mr. Davis?
I don't have a
drug problem, sir.
I made a very
stupid mistake.
Would you care to tell us
the circumstances
of your stupid mistake?
I was at a party...
and someone offered me a joint.
I was pretty angry
about not getting into
the LAPD, so I was feeling
rebellious and, uh...
...I inhaled.
Someone considering a career
in law enforcement
would be well advised
to exercise
a little more discipline.
Yes, sir.
I'm on the fence, Doug.
It's your call.
Mr. Davis, I'm in charge
of several programs.
Yes, sir?
Had a nice chat with your
old commanding officer.
(speaks Korean)
Good.
Recognize these guys?
Huh?
Yeah,
they're your buddies.
Your old Hajji buddies.
You should work in a deli
how you sliced these guys up.
RICHARDS:
Jesus Christ.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Did I ruin your lunch?
You went through
those sons of bitches
like butter.
I took my objective
and did what was necessary
to obtain information
vital to national security
that saved
American lives.
Whacked them all,
huh, Jim?
My C.O. told me not to leave
anything breathing.
- I do what I'm told.
- Relax, son.
You were getting paid
to fuck people up.
You know we're beefing up
our anti-narcotics programs
in Latin America.
Yes, sir.
I had heard some things
on the grapevine.
I want you on my team.
I need someone who
can get things done
on my task force
in Colombia.
Sir...
I listed Los Angeles and
San Diego on my dream sheet.
No slots in southern California?
No, Jim.
I got Colombia.
That's what
I have for you.
If it's not
what you want,
thank you for your time.
You can hit the door.
What exactly would I be doing?
Running and gunning
in the jungle?
Mr. Davis,
this is the deal.
You'll be riding shotgun
with the locals
as interpreter-advisor
on sharp end operations.
You'll be in some
very hot areas.
How hot?
We talking trigger time?
Sure, if you want.
Well, who exactly
would I be working for?
The U.S. government, Jim.
I want you in Glynco,
Georgia next week.
You make it through
in one piece,
you'll be working Colombia's
finest by the summer.
It's just that...
I'm supposed to get
married, sir.
Maybe now is not the time
to start a family.
We've been together a long time.
I'm serious about marrying her.
Foreign bride could jeopardize
your security clearance.
Jim, don't shack up
with some Mexican.
Colombian broads are
smoking hot and knee deep.
You get a per diem
and a driver.
You'll live like
a fucking king down there.
Yes, sir, I understand.
You take some time,
think about what
you want to do.
This is a serious
commitment.
I want the opportunity, sir.
I want on board.
Welcome aboard.
I'm taking a big
chance on you.
Thank you, sir.
This is the career
I've dreamed of.
These are your orders,
orientation material
and travel money.
Report to FLETC before the end
of working hours Wednesday.
Thank you, sir.
God.
Sorry, dog.
I got the job.
Oh, shit.
Yeah?
Me, too.
- When do you start?
- Monday.
When do you start?
Wednesday.
Big Jim, back on
the man's payroll.
Got the W-2
and the employee handbook
as proof of employment.
I will be back in the
arms of my woman tonight.
Good.
Hey, we got to celebrate
this shit.
Salud.
Oh, shit.
Fuzz.
They're on my ass, dog.
And my license is suspended.
Yeah, maybe he's
after someone else.
(siren honks)
Shit. Fucking shit, man.
He's pointing right at me.
And we got the open beers.
Fuck the beers, the guns.
Shoot the fucker.
Car's in my name. We're fucked.
(siren blaring)
Shit. Right when shit
was starting to go good, dude,
I'm going to jail.
Damn it, I'm going to jail.
I can dump these guys.
Rip the video
from their trunk.
Let's see them hands.
Let's see your hands
on the fucking dash!
Grab the sky or I'll blow
your fucking heads off.
Blink and die, scumbags.
Oh.
Look who it is, dude.
It's all right,
I know these guys.
You fucking asshole.
You're such a prick.
You scared the fuck out of me.
What's up, homie?
- What's up, fool?
- What's up, man.
I almost shot you, jerk.
That shit wasn't fucking
funny, Leo.
Yeah, it was hilarious.
You guys getting
fucked up?
Of course, dog, it's Friday.
Well, Boot,
you in the Academy yet?
Fuck no.
Fuck the LAPD.
It's local small-time bullshit.
I'm going with the feds.
How'd you get that hook-up, dog?
You know, me, got my
connects, you know.
Going to FLETC on Wednesday.
Hey, see you can
get me in there.
Yeah, I'll look into that.
How's Sylvia?
None of your concern,
ass wipe.
Say hi to her for me, no?
No.
This vato's all protective
of his female.
Check this out.
Nice, huh?
It's a nine?
Uh-huh.
Sorry, dog, I got
a lot of nines.
Come on, dude,
it's a bad-ass Ruger.
Talk to Toussaint.
He'll buy that shit.
Toussaint, he's...
he's in Florida.
He's back.
He called me today.
Page me tonight, bro.
We'll hit the clubs and
tear up some fine hinas.
Later.
Sure, dog.
I'm on the City's time.
You guys be cool.
Okay?
That fuck--
he put a scare in me.
Yeah, me, too.
He's a dick.
Want to party with him?
(hip-hop music playing)
See if this motherfucker's
home, dude.
Toussaint? Toussaint?!
Yo, Toussaint?
Yeah, come on, man.
Can't go far in that
little fucking place of yours.
Goddammit,
I'm coming.
Chill out.
(laughing)
Washing that dirty ass.
Damn it.
Group love. Group... Come on.
Group love, boys.
Welcome back, hometown.
Hey, I missed you
crazy fuckers, man.
Leo told us
you were back.
Thanks for calling
asshole.
You a cop?
Uh-uh. Going federal.
(whistles)
Man, craziest head I know
is going
to be a fed.
Yes, sir! Sir.
Still sponging off your woman?
Fuck you, dog. I got a job.
This motherfucker.
Look, dude.
This is bad.
It's yours for three
big ones, dog.
Fuck yeah, I want it.
What's up?
What's up?
Huh?
What the fuck you
say now, huh?
Hey. Huh?
Bam, bam, bam.
Motherfucker,
I'm strapped.
What the fuck
is up now, huh?
Whoo-ooh!
Whoa, whoa.
Your kneecap and shit.
Step up and get blasted.
Shit, man, what
the fuck is up now?
Hey, kick back, gunslinger.
It's loaded.
That shit goes through walls.
You pop the neighbor's
little kids.
(cocks gun, bullets clinking)
Uh-oh.
Ooh.
Fuck, dude.
Whoa, I'm straight, bro.
Yo, guys, we got
to party tonight, you know?
Go clubbin' or something.
I got a better idea.
What?
Here, sir.
Let's go to Mexico.
Mexico?!
- Yeah.
- I'm in.
(all talking)
Only fags like that...
Because you're a little faggot.
I don't get it,
too much fucking hills.
Right, right.
Dude, yo, dude, stay back boy,
stay back.
Motherfucker's got to ask
permission.
Fuck you, all right?
Let me tell
you something.
I am a grown motherfucking man,
all right?
I'm going to tell her
the good news,
make up, grab my shit
and we are out.
REPORTER:
Lines, lines, and more lines.
For many passengers
traveling through LAX,
the waiting has become
unbearable.
It's hit or miss,
you can't predict it...
Excuse me, you're not
made out of glass.
I'm made out of me.
You're drunk.
I'm celebrating, baby.
What, another wasted day?
Here.
...security since 9-11,
but that's true everywhere.
...and still a recent study shows
the wait at LAX
is the third longest
in the world...
This is a good company.
They make all
the new condos downtown.
How much?
$12 an hour.
Plus their MIS guy
is leaving in three months.
I'm going to update
my certifications
and take his job over.
Then I'll make bank.
Such an asshole.
What? Why?
This shit is real.
This is a great job,
the pay is outstanding
and it's a great opportunity
for me to do what I want to do.
I know.
It's so... it's so Mike,
you know.
You can't just go out
and get a shitty job.
You gotta... you gotta get a...
A dream job?
Yeah, a dream job.
Well, why shouldn't your
dream guy have a dream job?
...the ambitious plans
of many opponents
on the County Board
of Supervisors...
(chuckles)
Come here, I have a job for you.
# Da-da-da-da, doo-rup #
# Da-da-da-da.
doo-rup. #
What the fuck
is taking so long?
I knew this
shit would happen.
She hates my ass.
She's not going
to let him go.
Go knock.
Dude, go knock.
Bro, drag his fucking
ass out of there.
(chuckles)
Yo, Miguel.
Hey.
Mike, hurry up.
(door opening)
Hey.
Yo, what the fuck
are you doing?
Come on, dude.
Dog, I'm tearin'
it up, man.
I'm hittin' it, bro.
It's been a few days.
You guys just go ahead, man.
I'm gonna chill.
What?
I'm just gonna kick it here
with the woman.
You said you'd go, man.
Your woman's in your head.
That's wrong.
She's got your nuts, bro.
Dog, dog...
Sylvia's all happy 'cause I
got a job, all right, dude?
She wants us to
fuckin' chill together.
Man, that girl put
the zap on your head.
This is our last
chance to hang.
- You're like my brother.
- Yeah.
You're all I got.
You're gonna dog me like that?
I ain't no fucking do...
How are you, baby?
Hey, Sylvia, he's
going to Mexico.
No, he isn't, Jim.
Yes, he is.
I'm joining the feds. I'm gone,
I'm out of here next week.
The least
you can do
is let my best friend
see me off.
Baby, it's not safe.
All you're going
to do is drink.
Aw, fuck, man.
Mike, come on.
Come on, fuck, man!
Come on,
you promised.
You promised, man.
Yo... I promised,
Sylvia, okay?
Mike, you're not
going to Mexico.
What?
You're not going.
I'm not your fucking
puppet, Sylvia.
All right, you know what,
do what you want.
But I'm not going to be
here when you get back.
That's fucked up.
Why you got to lay
that bullshit on him?
Because I don't want him
going with you, Jim.
You're fucking nuts.
You're crazy
and you're dangerous,
and my biggest nightmare
is you with a fucking badge.
You're the last person
who should have one.
Yeah?
Yeah.
That's not bullshit,
it's the truth.
Fuck this!
Whoa, wait.
Whatever, man.
Fuckin' thanks, homie!
Yeah, laters.
Bye.
Yo, yo.
I'm going.
I gotta go.
Get the fuck out
of here, go!
Go!
Fuck this shit, man.
Good night, Sylvia.
Kiss my ass, Jim.
Oh, any time, sellout.
Oh, you going to be happy
once he's dead? Huh?
Hey, Toussaint.
I heard the battle, man.
Yo, your lady didn't
want you going, huh?
No, but I'm going.
- Hell, yeah.
- Shit.
- I'm a motherfucking man.
- That's right.
Shit. I walk
the Earth at will.
- Damn right.
- I do whatever the fuck I want.
You know, we're men, right?
- We're men, right?
- That's right.
That's what we do, right?
Amen. And don't worry--
home girl will be right there
waiting when you get back.
You're right. You're right.
She wouldn't play
that shit like that.
Shit, I got a fucking job
for real.
You did.
Plus you're my homie, dog.
You're my homie.
You're going to go fucking
do your thing
- and this is it.
- No, shit, dude.
Yo, we're all dogs.
I got you guys
back, man.
No doubt,
no doubt.
It's just going to be
fucking cool, yo.
I got a job,
you got a job.
Shit, I got some bud.
- We got some smokes.
- We got some
- motherfucking money.
- We are on a mission.
Let's get our heads together
so we can achieve our objective
in a timely manner.
Let's get deployed, people.
(all yelling)
(Native American war chant)
##
Wake up, wake up, wake up.
Rise and fucking shine.
Come on, ladies.
Chow time.
Chow's getting cold.
MIKE: Oh, what the fuck, Jim?
Chill, dude.
Dude, where are we?
Family, man.
Damn!
It's a shizzack...
Hey, hey, hey, hey.
It's a home, all right?
Respect, bro.
Straighten up, fellas.
My old lady, Marta.
Hola.
Mike.
Hola, mucho gusto.
Hola, Mike.
Toussaint.
Hola. Hola. Hola.
Hola. Marisa.
Buenos dias. Mi mama.
Mucho gusto. Marta's mom.
Buenos dias.
Vicki.
Vicki.
La prima, esa es mi prima.
Mucho gusto.
Mucho gusto. Mike. Vicki.
Toussaint.
Vicki.
Okay.
(chuckles)
Hey, grab yourselves a rock.
S, por favor, sientense.
(dog barks in distance)
MARTA:
Vicki?
Caf, quieren caf?
S, caf, por favor.
Vicki, andale.
Tranquila, baby.
(laughs)
Mama!
Yeah, w-what's
she saying, dude?
Oh, they... they
think you're cool.
Oh, sweet.
Aqu tienes. Gracias.
- Caliente.
- (whispers): Thank you.
Dude...
Marta's fine as fuck, bro.
Hey, hey, hey...
I'm just saying, dude.
You need to marry her, bro.
If you don't,
you're a fool.
Que dice?
Oh...
- Oh, that shit's good, man.
- (Spanish rock song plays)
No shit, you know they got that
good fucking weed from here.
That's what I want.
Some of that good shit.
You know where some fields
are or something, Jim?
Yeah, that's not... I want to
see, like, where they grow it.
You know, and then maybe
they'll let us go out
and, like, pick some.
You know, pick some of
that really good weed.
##
(sighs)
Shit.
(cawing)
MIKE:
Toussaint?
(chuckles)
This is nice.
This is beautiful, man.
Dog, you see this?
Here.
Mmm...
Beautiful...
Man!
Mmm!
When the hell'd you get
all the pistos, dog?
Mexico, man.
It's magic.
(chuckles)
(cawing)
TOUSSAINT:
He bleed?
JIM:
Like a stuffed pig.
(Toussaint sighs)
How'd Letty know you were
tearing up her sister?
That fuckin' bitch Patti, right?
- Ah...
- I took her to dinner.
Took her for a cruise
up to Malibu, you know?
Got up all in it.
Back of my ride...
Pounded that fish, man.
Good fuckin' fish.
I figured the crazy broad
pulled out some hairs and pubes
and stashed it in the seat,
you know?
Oh, dude, you got to watch that
shit, man.
Chicks get treacherous.
Yeah, no shit.
Sibling rivalry, Jim.
(chuckles):
Next day,
I'm driving around with Letty
all kick back and shit,
and she radars in
on this rat's nest, man.
Pulls out these long-ass hairs,
she's like "What are these?"
"Whose are these?"
(cackling)
She sees all the pubes mixed in,
man... fuckin' busted.
Busted!
(singsong voice): Busted!
Oh!
Dude, how'd she know
they were her sister's?
Oh, come on, dude.
Mexican chick voodoo,
right, Mike?
You know,
live and learn.
Yep, next time you'll be all up
in your ride
with the Super
Vac, dude.
Treachery!
Yep, treachery.
(dog barking in distance)
(horse snorts)
Um...
shouldn't we be
helping them?
You know how to hand wash?
- No.
- Then don't sweat it.
Yeah, we're men.
They know we don't do that shit.
That's right.
We're men.
(chuckling)
Oh, yeah!
(sighs)
This is paradise, huh?
Mm-hmm.
Yo, Mike?
Yeah?
They're sending me to Colombia.
Colombia.
Who, the man?
Yep.
They're tearing shit up down
there, they need my help.
Doing what?
Busting up drug labs
and drug lords
- and all that shit.
- You got it.
Gonna be an advisor, you know--
shoot him, him and him.
Then it's back to the barracks
for bitches and beer.
I'm set.
Why do you want to do
that shit, dude?
I mean...
what about Marta, you know?
I mean...
Ain't gonna happen.
They told me not to get married.
TOUSSAINT:
That's messed.
They really told you that?
Not straight up,
but I heard 'em.
Yo, if the feds won't let you
hook up with your old lady,
you need to tell them
to fuck off.
Yeah, I mean,
you love her,
she loves you, right?
Dude, you need to move
down here, marry Marta,
you know, get a good-ass job
working with fucking
tourists or something.
Fuck that.
Taking bucket baths
in cold-ass water?
You know, wading around
in ankle-deep mud?
Outhouses, man!
Fuckin' outhouses!
You told Marta yet?
You love this place.
It's in your eyes, man.
Dude, this is
what it's all about.
You got a woman that loves
you and a place to stay.
You'd be happy here,
and you know it.
Yeah, well,
shacking up with Marta,
squeezing out some puppies,
has its appeal, but...
this is my career.
I got one shot.
You're making
a mistake.
You should stay right
here with your lady.
What the fuck you gonna do
in Colombia?
Whack people,
program shit.
You ain't down, fuck you.
Bring in my gunships
and smoke your little jungle
hideaway. You know?
I mean, I'm a solider
of the apocalypse, man.
I'll be in a chopper,
door-gunning villagers
and shit. Fuck 'em.
Kill the chickens
and dogs, too, man.
(can clatters)
I don't give a fuck.
(light switch clicks)
##
(shuddering)
Shh, shh...
Yeah.
(Spanish-language pop song
plays)
(sighs)
(speaking indigenous language)
(chuckles)
(rousing Spanish-language song
plays)
(indistinct voices)
MIKE:
Doce aos.
- Doce aos.
- JIM: Doce aos...
Doce... we've been
together that long.
Es muy bonita.
Man, you're bring sand
to the beach, dumb ass.
- Cover that shit up.
- TOUSSAINT: Jim, dude!
Huh?
How you say, um, "You're
beautiful" in Spanish?
Huh? "Bonita."
Bonita.
##
Come on, you don't know
that shit, Toussaint?
Tu... bonita.
VICKI:
Gracias.
MIKE:
Hey, baby, see my new one?
- Right, did I get it?
- Huh?
Think I got it?
Yeah, she got the point.
Yo, Mike, that chick digs you.
What chick?
MIKE:
Oh, she's good, dog.
Yeah, name's Lila.
She's a freak.
She'll fuck you, dude.
(laughs)
She's a freak, huh?
How you know? You fuck her?
No, out of respect
for Marta.
Not that I don't want...
Hey, baby.
Ask her to dance.
I'm not cheating
on Sylvia, dude.
(song ends,
partygoers applaud)
There's a big gap between
dancing and fucking, man.
Go explore it.
No shit.
(lively dance music plays)
Whoo!
(man singing in Spanish)
(indistinct voices)
##
(indistinct voices)
##
No.
You're fucking nuts.
You fucked up, woman.
I'll do it.
(speaking Spanish)
It's easy.
(no noise)
Jim!
(distant dog barking)
(fairground music playing)
What's up, man, huh?
Where's Toussaint?
He's dancing.
- Yeah?
- Yeah.
- You gonna get back
to the party?
- Yeah.
Let's get back
to the party, man.
- Yeah.
- Hey, uh, go,
go tell Toussaint that
we're gonna get the
fuck out of here, man.
Just go into the party,
tell him we're gonna go.
We're leaving, huh?
Yeah, yeah, we're
gonna leave.
Let's go, yeah?
Yeah, let's go.
Go ahead, go get
Toussaint, man.
Go get him.
Hey, we're going.
Come on.
Fuck you, dude.
I'm having a
great time, bro.
Then walk back to L.A.,
motherfucker.
You're in the car or not.
He's fucking crazy, man.
What the fuck!
All right,
let's go, man.
Hey, yo, what the fuck
is your problem, psycho?!
Hey, hey, homeboy's
losing it, all right?
Shut the fuck up and just
get in the car, all right?
Fucking bullshit!
(engine starts)
TOUSSAINT:
Fucked up!
(crying)
(transmission revving,
tires squealing)
(tires squealing)
Dude, dude... dude, slow down.
(tires squealing)
Fuck, man.
Whoo, yeah, man.
Slow down,
you crazy motherfucker!
I want a cop to pull me over.
JIM:
Treachery.
Fucking treachery.
Jim, slow down!
Shut up!
Fuck, dude.
Only female I trust.
(transmission revs,
tire squeal)
Fuck you, God!
You ain't got the fucking balls
to take my ass.
Jim, don't say that shit, dude.
Jim!
(brakes screeching)
Dude, you are getting
out of control, okay?
You need psychiatric
help, man.
You're seriously
fucked up, dude.
All right, you need to sue
the military or something.
You used to be mellow.
Later, homie.
'Night, dog.
Laters.
Dude, I ain't hanging
around you anymore
until you get
some fucking help.
You can 12-step off, bitch.
You're dismissed.
He's right, dude.
Yeah.
Georgia will get me
squared away.
Hope so.
What was that shit
with Marta, dude?
I don't know why that happened.
But I'm cool.
I'm cool now.
Okay?
Yeah.
I'm cool.
Look, dude, she told me
she was pregnant.
I had a panic attack.
I pulled my gun.
Come on, dog,
I thought you loved her, dude.
I do.
God, fuck.
Come on, man, let's
go drop off that bud.
What bud?
There's 20 kilos in the trunk.
Say that again?
There's 20 kilos
in the trunk, man.
(laughing)
- Of weed?
- Yeah.
Get the fuck out of here, man.
I picked it up at the party.
I'm dropping it at Casper's.
Casper's?
(laughing):
I get three Gs.
We get three Gs.
You drove it across the border?
(laughing):
Yeah.
What if they would've caught us?
Couldn't happen, man.
My shit is on fire
right now, man.
My shit is wired
right now, man.
You risked my ass
without telling me?
That's not cool, man.
For three fucking Gs?
That's... that's a good rate
for transporting that.
Shit, if I'd
told you,
you would have gotten
all fucking hinkey at the
border, man, gotten us nabbed.
I wouldn't have been
in the fucking car, dude!
I would've been on
motherfucking Greyhound.
That's a serious breach
of the homie code, man,
not fuckin' telling me.
I'm sorry, man.
I'm sorry, you know.
I should've had...
I should've got you guys,
you know,
walk across the border.
I could've met
you somewhere.
But, you know, I got
bills, I got shit.
I gotta put my shit
in storage.
I gotta get gas
out to Georgia.
Oh, fuck your money woes, dog!
I am not catching
a fuckin' case for you.
Let me out of the fucking car
right now.
Fuck, man. Come on, man,
let's drop this shit off.
Let's get paid!
Let me out right here.
Mi-Mi-Mi-Mike! Listen, listen!
Let me out right here,
right now!
You will feel so much better
with a fistful of twenties.
Huh?
Dude, we're drunk,
and we got a trunk full of
fuckin' weed, dude, I am not...
Okay, fuckin', Mike,
don't bitch out on me!
Don't fucking bitch out on me!
I am still on probation,
dick head.
Let me out now!
Let me out right here
right fuckin' now, dude!
Let me get paid, will you?
Will you fuckin'
let me get paid?!
Oh, yo, get paid, man.
Fuckin' go for it,
all right?
Just let me get the fuck out.
I don't give a fuck, dude.
What the fuck
are you doing, man?
(yelling hysterically)
What the fuck
are you doing, Jim?
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
Fuck you!
Fuck, I'm sorry, dude,
I'm sorry, dude.
Okay? I'm sorry.
Why the fuck did you put
a gun to my head?
Huh?
You gonna shoot me?
No, man. I'm sorry.
I was trippin'.
I'd never...
I'd never put a fuckin' gun
to your head, dude
I know.
I know you wouldn't, man.
I'm sorry.
First your lady, now me, man.
What the fuck is up?
I'm not thinking.
I got too much shit going on.
(sniffling)
Oh, fuck, I'm just faded,
man, that's all.
I'm just fuckin'
fade right now, okay?
I'll cruise
you by your pad.
I'll drop you
off, man.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
Yeah. You're a fuck-up.
I'm going with you so you
don't fuck this shit up, too.
We'll go to Casper's...
get the money.
Yeah.
Then you can
drop me off home,
you can go to Georgia fed out
and be the fuckin' man.
Yeah, I'm gonna be
the fucking man.
I can drop you
off, you know.
Take you up the hill.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
No.
Keep on going.
MIKE:
Looks sketchy.
JIM:
I don't know.
Ho, what, you gonna
shoot their pigeons?
Yeah.
Just hurry up.
Yo, Casper!
Buenos noches, seor.
Tiene los cosatles?
Go pop the trunk, dude.
Con permiso.
(speaking indistinctly)
(dog barking in distance)
What's up, Casper?
What up, Jim?
What's crackin', man.
Is that you, Mike?
Whassup, homes?
Yo, Casper.
What up, dog?
Nothing, homey.
How you been?
Still with Sylvia?
Hope so.
Gonna find out tonight.
So whassup with
your brother, dog?
Fernie?
Got blasted by the hulas
awhile back, ese.
Damn.
Sorry to hear that, dog.
You play, you pay.
He knew what time it was.
Right.
Hey, we gotta bounce.
You got the money?
Yeah, just let me
check the shit, okay?
Yo, bring the feria, homey!
How's your old lady?
Eh... bitch finally
graduated, yo.
JIM:
Oh, fuck it!
CASPER: Yeah, now she can
support my ass, eh?
FLACO: I got all the feria
right here, dog.
It's all rolled
up and shit.
You know what I mean?
Ready to go, dog.
Check this out, homes.
Ah, hell, nah!
CASPER: Yo, hold up, dog.
Don't trip.
I know these fools.
They're with me, ese.
These are the fools
that jacked me, man!
Fuck these motherfuckers!
I'm shooting both of 'em!
At least give the homeboy
a pass right here, dog.
Yeah, yeah,
let him bounce.
I don't give a fuck.
I want this white boy
in a box, though.
Hey, you in the ride.
I ever see you again,
ese, you best be
getting your last supper,
'cause you're a dead man.
Hey, just get the fuck
outta here, Mike.
JIM:
Take off, homey.
I'll be cool.
What the fuck?
Don't trip, ese.
I'm cool.
Chill, dog! Chill, dog!
I got three kids...
(body thuds)
LIL' CHUCKY: Oh, no, please,
sir! Please!
- No, no, no, no, no!
- MIKE: Jim, no!
Please, please.
(dog barks in distance)
(raspy breathing)
(engine starts)
Why the fuck
did you do that?
(both shouting)
(tires screeching)
JIM:
Pull the door!
- (engine revving)
- Oh, my God, Jim!
I'm hit bad.
What have we done?
I can't move my arm...
and I can't feel my legs!
(whimpers)
I can't move shit.
I'm fucked up.
I'm fucked up.
I'm fucked up.
(gasping rapidly)
(Jim grunts)
MIKE:
Okay...
Don't trip...
Don't trip, dog.
County Hospital's
right there.
No! No! No!
County Hospital...
Don't you dare
take me there!
Don't you dare!
I'm not going
out like that.
No, we're going.
No, no...
No, no, no, no, no, no,
no, no, we're going.
No medical treatment.
No medical treatment.
But, but...
(gasping):
Mike, Mike...
You gotta kill me.
You gotta kill me.
You gotta kill me.
Why? Why?
I fucked up.
Everything's shitty.
No, no...
Mercy kill me.
Ah... ah, please,
mercy kill me.
Ah, oh, no, dude.
No, no, no, no, no, no,
no, no, no, no, no.
No, everything's
gonna be fine.
Jim, shh-shh, shh-shh,
shh-shh, shh-shh.
Everything's gonna
be fine.
Everything's gonna be fine.
Take a look at me,
you dumb fuck!
Everything's gonna be fine?!
Come on...
You take my piece...
and you put it
to my fuckin' head...
and you pull
the trigger.
You fuckin' step up...
No...
...and you do it.
No.
'Cause I can't.
(grunts)
(moans)
(sobbing):
Don't be a fuckin' pussy.
Oh, my God...
Don't think about it.
Huh?
Do it.
Please.
Just kill you and bail?
Yeah.
Just take off.
And don't look back...
or you'll...
or you'll turn into
a pillar of salt.
Hey... Hey...
you wanted to know what it was
like to kill someone.
What's up, huh?
No one's gonna know.
Hmm?
Just you...
and just me.
And God.
No fuckin' way.
- Huh?
- No fuckin' way.
You're crazy; I'm not
shootin' you, dog.
It's mercy, dog.
It's mercy.
I deserve that.
I'd do it for you.
I'd do it for you.
Yeah.
Take it.
Yeah, yeah.
JIM (gasping):
Yeah, yeah... yeah...
D-Don't, don't
think about it.
Don't think about it.
Yeah, yeah...
Ah, yeah.
Yeah.
Ah... ah...
You did this to yourself,
you stupid fuck!
You're always doing
stupid shit!
- I gotta fuckin' fix it!
- Okay, okay.
Is that what you
fuckin' want?!
- Yes.
- Huh?
You want me to fuckin'
fix your head,
- once and for all?!
- Come on, it's easy.
It's easy.
No! Bullshit!
Bullshit! Not for me!
I love you,
fuckin' shit bag.
I love you, too.
I'm gonna miss you, brother.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
- Everything's gonna be okay.
- Yeah.
Yeah.
I know.
(body thuds)
(bell clanging rapidly)
(engine rumbling)
(panting heavily)
(Sylvia grunts)
##
##
##
##
##
##
(rap music playing)
##
##
##
##
##
##
(music fades out)