- Hey, back to the bar, Tony.
Stop harassing the newbies.
- What, I'm cleaning
enough panties.
- You're on tonight,
Tina, get ready.
- I don't know, blue Jean.
- Last chance, sweetie.
- Hey, we gonna see some
titty balls tonight?
- If you're lucky.
- You don't know how sick I feel
every single day I see you
working in my fucking kitchen.
- Play nice, farmer John.
You need anything?
- A new kitchen staff.
Your worthless and weak.
- Just won't
give up, will you, Tony?
- This just came
in boss, for you.
- No card?
- Jean.
- Secret admirer.
- Blue, help me.
- You're such a
fucking child, Frankie.
- Right, says the
girl wearing a diaper.
- Well, it makes more
money than your face does.
- Nice flowers.
- Mm-hmm.
How ya feelin', red?
- Oh, wow, those are gorgeous.
Who they from?
- No idea, you can have 'em.
Junior.
- Sorry, ladies.
Chromagnum's here.
- Let him fester for a bit.
- Your office.
- Shall I bring junior out
of retirement for this one?
- Can you fix it?
- Again?
What are you cutting through?
Adamantium?
Probably just needs some oil.
- So, you guys
got any big plans.
- Yeah, probably gonna open up
my own chainsaw repair business.
- Ha, ha.
You gonna get back
into fightin'?
- Nah, those days are behind me.
Time to settle down.
- Uh-huh.
Think you're ready for
the big leagues, huh?
- Let's hear it for nasty Nanda.
She's got the longest
tongue in town,
and she makes the
best bitchin' rummies.
- What's this for?
- To clean yourself up.
- Wasting your time.
- Why?
- What I hear,
she's more than your Nazi
tit regime can handle.
- What do you mean?
What do you mean?
Somebody order some pizza?
- Nice try, pervert.
- Thanks, sweetie.
- Uh, I have to talk to you.
- No, not now, Tony.
- Ew.
- What the fuck are you doing?
- I can't help it.
Baby loves this stuff.
Pizza?
- No thanks.
- Is newbie aware
of all the rules?
- There's really only
one rule to follow.
We have a strict
touch and go policy.
As in, they touch you, they go.
So, tell Tony or Remy and
they'll take care of it.
Or do yourself a favor and
invest in boxing lessons.
- Just ask Remy.
He's an awesome trainer.
- Or, you could
be lazy and stupid
and spend the
money on a Beretta.
- You're packing heat?
- You went through my stuff?
- Why do you need
the gun anyway?
You can kick the shit out of
anyone with your baby bottle.
- Keep it off the floor, Elaine.
See something you like?
- Got some nice, youngin's
there, Ms. Murdock.
- It's Douglas.
- Well, I thought.
- You thought wrong.
What are you doing here?
- Oh, just came to
dot a few I's, cross a few t's.
- My chair.
- My chair soon.
- Not 'til closing.
- No matter.
Won't be much of
anything soon enough.
- What the hell's
that supposed to mean?
- Enjoy your last
night, Ms. Douglas.
Hey, you wouldn't wanna throw
in the motorbike of yours?
Part of the deal?
I'll make it worth your while.
- No deal.
- How does a small town stripper
come in possession of a
state issued motorbike.
- Santa clause.
- Santa clause.
Yeah, right.
- Jackal.
- Watch it.
- It was an accident, compadre.
- So was he.
Jesus.
- Yes?
- Get the fuck out of my way.
- I prefer Jesus!
- What'd he want?
- Mark his territory.
- I assume you told
him where he could go.
What is it?
- Something he said.
I think he's just gonna
tear this whole place down.
- What do you care?
You'll be gone before they
clean the first cum
stain off the wall.
- Remy, be nice.
- Just puttin' it
in perspective.
- Hey.
Don't let that fuckin' bean bag
destroy all the great
memories of this place.
Still no word from Logan?
- Nope.
- He'll be here.
He's got a knack for showin'
up when you least expect it.
Look, why don't you go
outside, get some air.
It'll do you good.
- What with the
animal hall of fame?
- Oh, that's our menu board.
- You serve bear?
- It's delicious.
Our head chef hunts it himself.
- Mario won't eat
anything that hairy,
except for maybe his wife.
- So, what can I get you guys?
- A round of the
spirit ale, please.
- Ooh, can I have
a salad, please.
- Ooh, a salad.
Don't forget to order
a set of cajones
to replace the pair
you are missing.
- Can you turn up
the heat, please?
- Yeah, I'll see what I can do.
- Tequila, pronto!
- Strike one.
- Travis, get off the bike, man.
- Relax.
- Uh, hey, blue Jean.
I was just showing my
buddy here your bike.
He didn't believe me that
you owned a pig chopper.
- That's one sweet ride.
How the hell did you
get your hands on this?
- Police auction.
- I call bullshit.
- I call happy hour.
- How much you want for it?
- It's not for sale.
If you want, I have a nice
little scooter I could show you.
- Well, hey, everything's
got a price, don't it?
Even you.
- Jesus Christ, Travis.
- Strike two.
No, you're right.
Just let me ask you, how
much is your dick worth?
- Excuse me?
- Well, everything
has a price, don't it?
And, since you don't
use yours very often,
I'm wondering how much
it's worth to you.
- Alright, let's go.
- Whoa, chill the
fuck out, Travis.
Do you wanna leave here
with your balls tonight?
- Mike, put it back
where you found it, okay?
- Sure thing, blue Jean.
Sorry about that, I thought
he'd be a bit more appreciative.
- Hey.
No harm done, right?
BJ.
- Strike three, you're out.
- Nobody calls her BJ, dipshit.
- Everything okay?
- You're right, a little
fresh air did help.
- What did you do?
- You fucking cunt.
- That's no way
to talk to a lady.
- Thanks, buddy.
- Would you like me to
take out the garbage?
- Be my guest.
- Such my dick.
- Let's get this party started.
- Remember, we
have pitchers of spirit ale
for half price tonight.
- What's the deal with
Remy and blue Jean?
Are they a couple.
- Nah.
He's had blue balls
since the day they met.
Alright, gentlemen,
you've waited a while
for this special lady.
It's that time,
the only woman who can
make diapers look sexy,
it's baby!
- Here.
Drink this.
- Hey.
Thanks for your help.
- My pleasure.
Nice shoes.
- Yeah, they're
full of surprises.
How's that hand?
- Yeah, I think that
bastard beat me.
- You want ice?
- I'm okay, thanks.
- He's okay.
- Cute hat.
- Yeah, that's his lucky hat.
He won't enter the
mines without it.
- Please excuse me.
I have to use the bathroom.
- So, you guys working
over at Pisha ranch mine?
- Yeah.
- Well, how come I haven't
seen you here before?
- Hector runs a tight ship.
- Yeah, but not tonight.
Tonight we're celebratin'.
- What are we celebrating?
- It's the cowboy's birthday.
- Oh.
We'll have to plan somethin'
a little extra special
for him tonight.
Aja, aren't you
going up tonight?
- They're slammed.
They just got a shitload of
orders for the house special.
- What's the house special?
- Muffin turf.
20 bucks for a steak
and a flash of pussy.
- Ooh!
- No one orders the
salad, sweetheart.
- His wife put him on a diet.
If his stomach gets any bigger,
she won't be able
to find his dick.
- Alright, you boys
behave yourselves.
- There's something
wrong with the beer.
Can we get a round
of Tequila instead?
- Mm-hmm.
- Get ready
for what baby has to offer.
And what a beautiful
specimen she is, folks.
And, luckily, baby can do
her own breast-feeding.
Keep it going for
our beautiful baby.
We know that's the
cradle you'd like to rob.
- Muffin turf?
Really, guys?
- Don't look at me.
- Tony, you're watching Tina
when she goes up tonight.
Apparently her boyfriend's
a jealous douche,
god knows when he'll show up.
- Why can't Remy watch Tina?
- Remy's at the door,
is there a problem?
- Are her boobs safe?
- As long as they get to
the bag before the tag,
yeah, they're safe.
- What I mean is, do they
have any freaky shit goin' on?
You know, I can't
handle funky nipples.
- Yeah, Tony, it can't be
as bad as your funky penis.
- What's wrong with my penis?
- Somebody get
that girl another diaper.
- How am I supposed to top that?
- Easy.
Just take a big shit on stage.
- We're gonna take a quick break
so you lushes can
refill those cocktails,
but, don't go too far.
- Panuche?
- And the crowd goes wild.
- You really pissed yourself?
- I piss myself all the time.
It's no biggie.
- Newbie's up.
- Time to go.
- We've got a
virgin, let's not scare her off.
It's Tina.
- Hands.
- Hands, please.
- What, I didn't?
Ah.
- Oh, you disgusting
little pervert.
- Where the hell have you been?
- Nice of you to care.
- You know this is an
important night for me.
- Yeah, for me too.
- Why do you have to
make this so hard?
- You're the one
who's skipping town.
- Logan, we've
been through this.
- Yeah, and it always ends
up with you getting your way.
- Hey, sexy.
- Her, gorgeous.
- You get that brown belt yet?
- You had any doubt?
Frankie, me and Logan are just
in the middle of something.
- Well, don't be
hogging him all night.
- You're just like your dad,
gettin' the ladies
all hot and bothered.
- Yeah?
But he knew the keeper's worth.
That's my cue.
- Oh, what did he do?
- Long story.
- My office.
Evening, Carl.
Come buy our closing night?
- Blue, you know,
it's not gonna be
the same around here without ya.
- Oh, I'm sure you'll
find another place
to harass and annoy.
- The officer is here
lookin' for Logan.
- Is there a problem?
- Probably be best
if we chat with him.
- What's going on, Carl?
- Tell me, blue.
- He stole a car?
- Not just any car, a cruiser.
- Jesus Christ.
- I know Logan's had a hard
time of it, ever since Lucas.
Look, he's a good kid.
He's too smart for his own good.
College has really put his
head in the right place.
- Tina.
What are you doing here?
- Go home.
Go home!
Get off.
Get off me!
- Tony!
- I'm on it!
- Looks like you
got your hands full.
You got it covered?
- Closing night, could
it be any different?
- Come on.
Come on, come on.
- Okay, gentlemen,
most of you know her as
our little feisty Frankie,
but, tonight, she
goes by the name of
thundercunt!
- Come on.
- Stuey, stop it,
you're embarrassing me.
- I'm not the one
standing around
with her tits hanging
out for the world to see.
Tina!
- Oh my god!
- Fuck.
- I had him.
- You had who?
- I don't know.
He was so strong.
- Who?
- I don't know.
I don't know, he was black.
- Whoa, whoa,
whoa, he was black?
- No, no.
He was covered in black.
I don't know, he
was covered in oil.
Slimy, cold, ice cold.
He slipped out of my hands.
- We need to get Carl in here.
- Hold on.
- What?
- Just hold on, wait a second.
- What?
- I need to check something out.
- Wait, what?
- Guys, clean this up.
- What?
- And go get Carl pussy.
- Fuck!
- You're kidding me, right?
- What?
- I am surprised you
didn't drive here
in the stolen cruiser.
No.
If you think that just
because you and I...
What the hell was that?
- Thundercunt?
- What the fuck now?
- Bar fight.
- Motherfuckers.
- Hey, I won't pick up any puke
from those sons of a bitches
if they make a mess in there.
- Relax, farmer.
It's just temporary.
- Yeah?
Thankfully, so is
this fucking job.
- Look, go downstairs, get
something to clean this up with.
- Hey,
tell that beautiful boss of
ours I run out of turf here.
And somebody stole my
fucking carving knife.
- Where are your friends?
- What?
- Your friends, where are they?
- In the bathroom, why?
- Somebody attacked
one of my girls.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa,
none of my guys would do that.
- Who was covered in oil.
Pisha ranch mine, that's
a coal mine, right?
Right?
- Yeah.
- Petrleo.
Oil?
What's oil doing in a coal mine?
Seems pretty strange to me.
Then again, you're
not celebrating
someone's birthday
here tonight, are you?
- Start talking.
- My crew.
It was the end of our shift.
We were the last
ones down there.
- Santa Maria.
- We were going to
go back tomorrow,
excavate the site, start
to extract the oil.
But it isn't oil, is it?
- What the fuck is goin' on?
- It's not oil.
- Yeah, so?
What's that mean?
- I think it's something
toxic, I don't know.
- I don't follow.
- Well, remember what Tony said.
Oily and slimy to the touch.
- So, what are you sayin'?
Striking oil suddenly
makes you a violent killer?
- What the fuck?
- No!
- Okay, this is not good.
I think we should...
- It's too late!
- Something else I got
from dad, good aim.
- What the hell are
you doing with this?
- It's not mine.
This one is.
What the fuck, give it back.
Did you see what I just did.
- Hey, we all get
lucky once in a while.
- Lucky?
- Enough, both of you, put
the measuring tapes away.
We have to get
everyone out of here.
- Look, what the fucks
wrong with these guys?
There's black shit
all over them.
- I don't know, just
don't touch them.
Okay, hold on to
this sharpshooter.
- It's empty.
- Very good.
I'm going to get the others.
- I'm coming with you.
- No, stay here with the boys.
Look, I'll be right back.
Just make sure you get
everyone out of here safely.
- It's weird.
- Really, which part?
- I shot that guy.
- Wow.
He's quick, folks.
- No, I mean, I
already shot him,
like, three times in
blue Jean's office.
There's no way he
could have survived.
- Sharpshooter my ass.
Alright, everybody, listen up,
we need to get everybody
out of the bar now.
- I can't work under
these fucking conditions.
I think it sounded
crazy out there,
so I suggest you get out there,
do you fucking job
like you get paid to,
and see what the
hell is going on.
- Come on, everybody,
clear out, come on.
Come on, let's go.
- Should we call for
back off or something?
- Well, Logan's dead
girlfriend and Carl here
make up for the entire
backup in this town.
Next closest cop is an
hour and a half away.
Welcome to the boonies
population 5,000 and dropping.
- Oh my god, oh my god.
This can't be happening.
This cannot be happening.
- Frankie, hey, hey, hey.
Look at me, okay?
Look at me.
Remember what I
taught you, okay?
You're in control.
Always.
Hey, hey, hey.
Come here, come here.
Sit down.
Try to breathe, now.
Take a deep breath.
Keep doing that.
Hey, Blondie.
A little help here.
- Something's not right.
- He's dead, Logan.
- Are you sure?
- Satisfied?
Look, why don't you make
yourself useful, okay,
and move some of these
bodies out of the way.
You start with him.
- Yeah, I don't think so.
- Fuckin' dumbass.
- What the fuck is
going out there, blue?
- Put some clothes
on, we're leaving.
- What, why?
- Hey, blue.
- Hey, momma bear.
- What going on.
- I need you to get
ready, we're leaving.
- Why won't you let me sleep
through the last night?
- What the hell is going
on out there, blue?
Where's junior?
Um, hello, are you
listening to me?
- Elaine!
Go, go!
Just shoot!
- It's fucking jammed!
- Remove the safety!
- Is she dead?
- Let's go.
- Shit.
Come on, back up generator.
- Remy!
- Shit!
- Just can't stay out
of trouble, can you?
- I told you so, that crazy
motherfucker wasn't dead.
I don't get it.
These guys are bulletproof.
And their fucking
blood, it's black.
What are they?
What's up with you?
Jesus Christ!
- Remy!
- It's not as bad as it looks.
- No, dude, that looks
pretty fucking bad.
- Now, we can get you and
the girls out of here.
Where's baby?
- She didn't make it.
- What?
- Fuck.
- No.
- It was one of these miners.
- Where is he now?
- The dressing room.
I took care of him.
- Okay, so, that's
all four of 'em.
- Wait, where's Tony?
- Shit!
Kitchen.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Where you goin'?
- You're not going anywhere.
- Well, take the girls with you.
The farther away from
these things the better.
- Hey, what about me?
- I said take the girls.
- You're fucking hilarious.
- How's that knife feeling?
- Jean.
Find farmer John.
Tell him to bring in
the middle reliever.
- Now, help me
with this fucking knife.
- What?
- The baby.
- Now?
- Okay.
So far we're being attacked
by this group of infected...
- They're fucking psychopathic,
cocksucking killers.
That helped.
- Why won't these
guys stay down?
- What do you mean,
won't stay down?
I saw you bash that guy's
head in with your bat.
- Yeah, but, the others.
Wait a sec.
- Just pull it out,
fast, as fast as you can.
- Jesus, Remy, that's fucked.
- Kid.
Just get it done.
Count of three.
One.
Two.
Three.
Look, I understand.
Aw, motherfucker!
- You owe me one.
- What I owe you
is a bitch slap.
- Hey, if you want, I can
put the knife back in.
- Oh, what I want, is for
you to stop fucking up.
For Jean's sake.
- What the fuck are
you talking about?
- Stealing a car,
carrying a gun.
- Look, get the fuck off my ass.
And blue Jean's too.
- Oh, for fuck's sake.
- Stay close.
- Carla!
- Tony?
- Blue Jean!
- Hey, Tony.
Frankie!
- What?
- I think I have a
name for your baby.
- What?
- Winnie.
- Why
won't
you
fucking
die?
- The head!
- What?
- The head, shoot
'em in the head.
- Adios, motherfucker.
Fuck.
- Come on!
Head, dumbass.
- He was holding my hand!
- That was a bit
quick, you just met.
- Fuck off.
- Now, stay...
- Jesus Christ!
You cocksuckers gave
licorice a contraction.
Almost gave me one, too.
- Yeah, we're okay,
thanks for asking.
- What's that smell?
- Jesus, Frankie!
- Oh, man.
- He was infected too.
We had to stop him.
- The head, that's
how you stop 'em.
- Yeah, so, let's finish this.
- Wow.
Um.
What, exactly did farmer
John hunt with this?
- I don't wanna know.
- Cool.
- The hell am I supposed
to do with this?
- I'll take the lead.
Logan, you follow with licorice.
Frankie, cover him.
Gina, take the rear.
Plan is to get the
hell out of dodge
before any of these
fuckers get up.
If they do, aim for the head.
Don't touch 'em, don't
let 'em touch you.
Frankie, you know how
to use that thing?
- I think so.
- No!
- Well, there goes
our head theory.
Fuck!
Shit.
The fuck did they go?
Why won't these
guys fuckin' die?
- Holy shit.
I think I got it.
- What?
- These things, they're infected
by some sort of bad oil.
We can use that
to our advantage.
- Use what to our advantage?
- What do they say
about oil and water?
- They don't mix.
- Exactly.
- Yeah, but the human body is
made up of 60 to 70% water.
By mass alone,
each human cell consists of
somewhere between 65 to 90% h2o.
College.
Biology is my major.
- Yeah, I used to think
you went to class.
- So, how is more water
going to stop them?
It doesn't make sense.
Okay, it makes sense.
- Remy, grab a pot.
What the hell?
What time is it?
- Dead after midnight.
- Fuck!
- Shit.
- The fucking prick could
wait until we actually closed.
- They won't stay on for long.
- Guys, we need to
get out of here now.
- We need another water source.
- Beer.
It's over 95% water.
Every 12 ounce bottle
has 11.4 ounces of water.
Bartending school.
Alcohol is my major.
- Farmer John's secret stash.
- Thank you, farmer John.
- Those things out there,
these oily fuckers,
they're contagious.
We've seen it with Tony.
We can't let 'em leave.
We have to kill them.
You guys get that, right?
Logan.
It's not safe for
licorice out there.
If any of those
fuckers get by us,
you've got plenty
to hit 'em with.
Stay strong for Winnie.
- Blue Jean.
- Don't worry, its just
the seventh inning stretch.
Hold this 'til I get back, okay?
- Time to go.
- Remy.
Take care of my mom, okay?
- You got it kid.
Here.
I believe this belongs to you.
Sharpshooter.
- Wow.
Our little boy's all grown up.
It's hot.
If I wasn't about to burst,
I'd fuck you right now.
- I'll go in first, slow
the motherfucker down.
And then it's all you.
- You ready?
- Shit, no back
up lights in here.
Jean, open the door.
Fuck!
- Remy!
- Fuck!
Jesus
Christ!
Let's get the fuck out of here.
- She'll be back.
- I know.
- She wears it all the time.
- It's not me, I'm.
It's my dad, Lucas.
Blue Jean never told you?
- I just assumed blue
Jean got knocked up
and your dad took off.
- Blue Jean and
my dad met, like,
10 years after my mom died.
- Where's your dad?
- He's dead.
- Oh, Jesus, Logan,
I'm so sorry.
- It's the price
for being a cop.
- Was that your dad's?
- Actually, it's blue Jean's.
- What?
- That's how they
met, on the job.
- Blue Jean was a cop?
- Let's just say,
if it was a fight, I wouldn't
want to be the other guy.
- Let's go for beer only.
None of the hard
stuff is gonna...
- Remy, stay down!
No, don't do it,
there's too much blood.
- Did you like the flowers?
- Yeah, they're beautiful.
- Bullshit.
Fuck.
You're always such a guy,
and I love you for that.
But, can't you be a girl
just once in a while.
Bottom of the ninth, two outs.
Time to bring in
the closer, Jean.
Now, be a good girl, and
finish the fucking game.
About fucking time.
- Remy?
No.
This is for Remy,
you oily cocksucker.
- Sweet Jesus.
- You bastard!
You turned off the
power, the water.
- It's my bar now.
- Not yet.
- It's after midnight,
check the fine print.
- We're sitting on an
oil mine, aren't we?
- For a small town stripper,
you're fairly quick.
- Well, you're in
for a real treat,
because it's anything but oil.
It's much worse.
- Oh, on the contrary,
all the better.
Five carbon atoms per molecule.
100% linear paraffins.
No fluid catalytic
cracking required.
Sure, all that's Swahili to you,
but, in laymen's terms,
it means that I
am sitting on the
lightest grade of crude oil
the world has ever seen.
Black magic.
It is perfect.
And with no sign of peak
oil for years to come,
I'm sittin' on the jackpot.
- Does this look like
the jackpot to you?
- Unfortunate, but
necessary casualties.
We're still tryin'
to work it out.
- You knew.
- It's time.
- What?
- It's time, it's time.
- No, no, no, no, look.
Blue Jean's gonna be
back in just a second.
Okay, okay, okay, okay.
We need water.
We need water and blankets.
- There's no fucking
water, Logan.
- Right, right,
right, okay, okay.
- It's coming.
- Okay, okay, okay.
- Once in your god
damn life help me.
- Okay, okay.
What, what?
- Your hands are
fucking freezing.
- Sorry, sorry, sorry.
- Get back in there!
- The first extraction
didn't go so well.
There were some unusual
chemical compounds in the mix.
Let's call it a
work in progress.
- A work in progress?
Your black magic is
killing everyone.
You have to shut it down.
- Shut it down?
That is not an option.
My black magic is one of mother
earth's finest resources,
although it is a bit
of a two edged sword.
It's also her latest
biological weapon.
And she's unleashed
plenty over the years.
Influenza, Ebola, aids.
All in an attempt to get rid
of her worst viral infection.
Mankind.
And she has caused some
damage, to be sure.
But we do manage to
survive, don't we?
And that's really
what its all about,
survival of the fittest.
And even the likes of
you can understand that.
Right?
BJ?
- You have a little
something right here.
Another unfortunate casualty?
- Oh.
Don't call me BJ.
Suck oil.
Son of a bitch.
- It's a girl.
- A girl!
- No!
- Alright, fuckwad,
let's do this.
What the fuck are
you doing, Jean?
- BJ.
BJ.
BJ, BJ, BJ.
BJ, BJ, BJ.
BJ, BJ, BJ.
BJ, BJ, BJ.
- Don't.
- BJ, BJ, BJ.
- Call.
- BJ, BJ, BJ.
- Me.
- BJ, BJ, BJ, BJ!
- BJ!
Why don't you just fucking...
- Looks like I just struck oil.
Piss off.
- Carla?
- Remy?
Fuck!
You think your bike still works?
- She's seen worse.
- Good, because
we're gonna need it.
Know what else they say
doesn't mix with oil?
I've been meaning to ask you,
where'd you get the
name for the bar?
- We'll save that
story for a rainy day.
Hey, officers.
- Hey, blue.
We're out celebrating
this this fucker tonight.
- Oh yeah, what are
you celebrating?
- Carter here finally got laid.
- Looks like he's been
celebrating since last Tuesday.
- Oh, this is nothin' blue.
He'll be drinkin' for all
of us 'til next payday.
- He's untouchable.
He'll be the last
man standing tonight.
- You haven't seen
anything like this guy.
We've tried everything to
get this fucker to pass out.
- I bet I can make him pass out.
- I bet you a hundred
dollars you can't.
- I'll give you 'til midnight.
If you don't pass out by then,
I'll give you everything
I make tonight.
- You're on.
- But, if I win,
I get your bike.
- What, his patrol bike?
- You're on.
- Are you crazy?
Your patrol bike?
Think about this.
- I got it covered.
- You're insane.
Good luck, Carter.
- Tequila.
Ooh, it's gonna be
easier than I thought.
Alright, gentlemen,
the moment you've been
holding on to your balls for.
It's the lovely, the
luscious, the lusty, luminous,
blue Jean.
- Titty balls,
titty balls, titty balls,
titty balls, titty
balls, titty balls,
titty balls, titty
balls, titty balls,
titty balls, titty
balls, titty balls.
- Titty balls,
titty balls, titty balls,
titty balls, titty
balls, titty balls,
titty balls, titty
balls, titty balls,
titty balls, titty
balls, titty balls,
titty balls, titty
balls, titty balls.
- Carter, Carter, Carter.
- Would you look at that?
Carter's passed out.
- You should see
my knuckle ball.