Sorry I'm late, man.
I saw my karate instructor
on the way here,
and I had to chat with him
for a little while
to be polite;
that's why-
- Hey, I don't need to know
about your life, asshole.
You got the cash?
- Sorry.
Of course I got the cash.
- Put it on the ground.
- Okay.
- Okay, now give it to me.
- You can count it again if you like.
It's all in there.
- I just counted it by looking at it.
I know it's okay.
- Okay, cool.
- There you go.
- What-what is this?
I-I don't understand.
- Everything's inside.
It's easier to carry.
More discreet.
- Oh, yeah?
But how do I
get the stuff out?
- Are you dumb or what?
You take a knife.
You split the rat open.
You take your weed out.
You smoke it.
Can you manage that?
Or do you need an instruction manual?
- Nah, I'm okay.
That works.
- Oh, that's good.
You're smart.
Now get the hell out of here.
- All right.
- And I don't give a fuck
about your karate instructor, okay?
Move!
- Okay, sorry.
- Excuse me.
Police.
Did you drive a car here today, ma'am?
- Yeah, why?
I just-I just bought it.
Um...
What seems to be the problem?
- License and registration, please.
- Okay.
Everything is quite in order.
- Ms. Kieffer, Julia.
That is your name, correct?
- Yes.
Are you gonna tell me what's wrong
or not?
- I'm gonna need you to
come down and see me later today
so we can discuss this ASAP.
It's pretty delicate.
- Okay.
Um...
I'm sorry. I don't understand.
Why can't you just tell me
what's wrong?
Why are you being so mysterious?
- I am not being mysterious.
This is standard procedure, ma'am.
I'm not gonna go ahead and tell you
what the problem is
here in the parking lot like this.
That's not how we do things.
You know what?
I'm gonna need your
contact information right now
so we can talk about this.
Write your number down here clearly.
A cell phone number would be preferable.
- Whatever.
- What on earth are you up to?
- It's okay. I'm done here.
- Oh-oh, good. Great, great.
'Cause I've just been waiting for you
like a freakin' idiot for, like,
a half an hour.
- Did you bring me my coffee?
- Yeah. Yeah.
There you are, your coffee!
- Ah...
- Come on. Hurry up.
- See you later.
- What, do you want a picture
of my dick?
- Excuse me?
- I'm asking you if you want
a picture of my dick.
- No, I don't want a picture
of your dick.
- Are you sure?
- I wasn't looking at your dick.
I was just staring...
at that thing...
um, over there.
- What are you doing here?
Why are you waiting?
- I just stopped
to listen to some music.
- What's your name?
- My name
is David Dolores Frank.
- Your parents know
you're a street hooker,
David Dolores Frank?
- No, 'cause
I'm not a street hooker.
Prostitution is wrong.
Okay, drop it.
Do whatever you want.
I don't give a fuck.
What are you listening to?
- Something cool.
- Let me hear it.
Get down here.
- Ugh.
My stomach
is fucking killing me, man.
- Please, I don't want to hear about
your digestive problem.
I don't want to know.
- Hello.
I'm the one who called you.
- Hi. It's Gary, isn't it?
- Yeah.
- No, I'd rather not shake your hand,
if you don't mind.
- Well, here we are.
There he is.
- Okay. Nice atmosphere.
I like it.
- How long has he been there?
- About an hour.
Went out to buy some cigarettes,
and we went out for a bit of a stroll,
and when we came back,
he was there.
- Did you know him?
- Yeah, he was my neighbor
for ten years.
Name is Gary, just like me.
- How do you think he got in?
- Well, he had an extra set
of my keys,
you know, just in case.
Can't imagine why he had to come
into my living room
to kill himself, though.
I-I don't understand.
- Maybe he just didn't want
to dirty his own place up.
- It could be just as simple as that.
You're right.
- Actually, if I were you,
I'd wash this whole mess up
right now.
Once the blood has dried,
it'll be hell to get clean.
- Well, don't you have
to take out the body first?
- Gary, can I use your bathroom?
- Oh, yeah. Uh, it's just in there.
- Hey, hurry up.
I don't want to spend
the whole morning here.
- Don't you have to take any notes
or even, you know, photographs?
- No.
Why?
- Well, for the investigation.
- Relax.
There's not going to be
any investigation.
I know this stuff!
Uh, okay.
? Eh, eh, eh, eh ?
I mean...
I've heard this a thousand times!
Where is this shit from?
I'll bet it's German.
- I don't know.
It's just fucking cool.
I just like it 'cause it's cool.
I don't care where it's from.
- Oh, yeah!
This stinks of Germany!
- Yes?
- Mrs. Julia Kieffer?
- Speaking.
- Officer De Luca here.
We met on the parking lot.
- What do you want?
- So, uh...
You're not gonna ask me
any more questions?
- Yes.
I have one last question.
How long has this mozzarella
been there?
- I don't know.
A week, maybe.
- Hmm.
I'd say it's been
more like three weeks.
Your refrigerator is depressing.
- Well, at least I feel reassured.
I was really scared
that you would suspect me
of murder.
I mean, the body is in my house.
It could look that way.
I could have killed him
and put the gun in his hand.
- You know what? I couldn't care less.
It's your life.
It's your neighbor who's dead,
not mine.
Right?
- The flush is broken.
- Well, that was boring.
Gary and Gary.
Lame.
- Look what I found in his bathroom.
- You stole a magazine
from that poor guy?
- Yeah.
- You're such a dickhead.
- He had loads of 'em.
It's an old fag rag.
It's kind of good.
- You won't shake his hand,
but you've got no problem
touching the magazine
that he jacks off to?
- Fuck!
- What?
- Oh, my God.
This is so huge.
You're not gonna believe this.
- What? Show me.
Jesus fucking Christ.
- Yeah.
- What are you doing in this
shit hole, man?
It's gross.
Last time I ate here,
I had the shits for two days.
- Look, I don't care.
Do you have my weed?
Yeah.
There you go.
And I gave you an extra half
because I like you.
- Why the fuck hasn't that stupid kid
stopped staring at me since I got here?
- Which kid?
That one?
- Yeah, it's bugging me.
- Hey, little twerp.
Stop staring at my friend
while he's eating, okay?
It bothers him.
- Yeah, don't look at me,
even when I'm not eating.
Don't ever look at me.
Hey, do you mind
if I pay you, uh, next time?
I'm having some money issues.
- How long have these
money issues been going on?
I mean, you already owe me
520 bucks, Sunshine.
What are you up to?
- Yeah, look, I'm being screwed
by this home shopping thing.
I ordered
this bodybuilding machine,
like, ultrasophisticated,
and they screwed up,
and they charged me ten times for it.
- You, bodybuilding?
- Well, I haven't-
I haven't
received the machine yet, so...
- Yeah, but it means you intend to
start.
- Well, yeah.
Why not?
I just can't picture you bodybuilding,
that's all.
Hey.
I'm just thinking...
Do you want
to pay your debt off to me
by carrying out a little favor?
Nice and easy.
- Well, have to see.
What is it?
- Well, I mean, you know,
I don't want to talk about it here.
Let's take a walk.
- Oh, my God.
Who is that guy?
- Nobody.
Just some guy.
- What happened?
Did you run him over?
- No, I shot him by mistake.
- This is not how we're gonna
fit in with the neighbors.
Why did you do that?
- Shut up, Mommy.
Everything is fine.
No one saw anything.
Fate wanted this, not me.
Can you help me lift this fucker?
- I got this.
All right.
I didn't like the guy anyway.
- I'll dump him in the river.
Oh, no!
I thought you were dead!
- Yeah, me too.
- Fuck!
- Wh...wh...
What was the music you were listening to
when you were driving?
I liked it a lot.
- Ugh, that's disgusting.
- So listen.
You take him,
you get rid of him neatly,
and I simply forget
about the money you owe me.
It's as easy as that.
- I've never killed anyone before.
I don't know if I can.
It's kind of scary, Duke.
I'm not-
ugh, I'm not feeling it.
- What are you afraid of?
There's nothing to do.
The guy is 75% dead already.
You dig a big hole,
and you throw him in.
You bury him.
Boom, job is done.
- But that's horrible.
- It's horrible for him.
It's not horrible for you.
Hey, come on.
I'm just trying to help you out with
your money problems.
You don't have to do it.
Think about all the equipment
you could buy
to bulk up with.
- What kind of deranged
meeting place is this?
- Don't worry, the police office
is right there.
I just came outside to have a little
fresh air.
Sometimes I take meetings
out here
'cause it's a little depressing inside.
- All right, so...
- I'm sorry.
Show me your breasts.
I want to see your breasts.
- I'm sorry. What?
- This was all a ploy
to get you into my trap.
But don't worry.
I don't have to use this thing,
you know.
All you got to do is take off that top
and show me one breast,
two breast, both breasts.
Wow, I'm sorry.
I just-
I don't know how to react.
- Stop changing the subject and
show me those breasts.
- You can't be serious.
I mean, you just can't be.
This is a joke, right?
Yeah, have a laugh.
But in the meantime,
this is a real fucking gun.
- What is your problem?
Do you have, like,
issues talking to girls?
Is this, like, your pickup line?
- Stop wasting my fucking time
with your twisted questions.
What must be done will be done.
And what must be done today is,
you take off that top
and show me those breasts,
'cause this is a real fucking gun.
What must be done will be done.
And this might not be making
perfect sense,
but it makes sense
up in my fucking brain.
So do me a favor, drop it.
Let me see the breasts.
- What are you gonna do
if I don't comply?
- I'm gonna put
a fucking bullet in your head.
You're gonna fall down.
There's gonna be blood everywhere.
I'm gonna walk over with my dirty shoe,
and I'm gonna lift up your shirt,
and then I'll see your breasts.
- Okay.
- It's win-win for me, girl.
- Yeah, I see that.
- What are you doing?
Julia, that's a bad idea.
- I feel really sorry for you, man.
- Get some help, seriously.
- You fucking bitch!
Wait!
Show me your breasts!
Ah!
Show me your breasts!
- It's not that
I don't trust you, Bob.
It's just that I love counting these
babies.
I could count this all day,
every day.
- I know.
Take your time counting.
- What are you up to these days?
You been working?
- I just signed with a big studio
to direct a really big movie.
I'm doing okay.
- Cool.
Bravo, man.
That'll be great for my business.
I mean, that is, you could
hook me up with movie stars
loaded with cash.
- It's a numerical movie.
There are no stars.
- A numerical movie.
- Mm-hmm.
- Wow.
I have no idea what that means,
but it sounds awesome and amazing.
- Yeah?
- Linda!
How's my little kitty?
- Good. Are you on your way?
- No, actually,
that's why I'm calling.
You need to tell Donaldson
that I can't won't be
in the office this afternoon.
- Why?
- Well, it's personal.
It's a family matter.
I can't talk about it
on the phone.
- Is it serious?
- Well, yeah, it's serious.
It's serious enough where
I can't come into the office.
- But Donaldson is waiting for you.
- Okay, yeah,
tell Donaldson that, uh,
I have to take care of this guy
who is definitely getting cancer.
- Oh.
- Well, that's what
the doctor said.
The doctor said, "Maybe cancer."
- Hey!
Turn some music on, please.
- Uh, Linda, I have to go.
That is the family member
who may have cancer
who is calling me.
Okay, bye.
Hey, what is the matter with you,
yelling like that?
- The music.
It did me some good...
in your partner's car.
It helped me to think of something else.
Without the music,
it's very difficult.
The pain comes back.
And I really don't feel that well.
Then just put a little music on for me.
That's all I'm asking for.
- Okay, I'll put some music on.
No problem.
Is that better?
Do you like that music?
Hey, is that the kind of music
you like?
Sir?
Hey.
Hey, sir.
Sir.
- What?
- Hey, I've have
an errand to run right now,
so I'll be gone for a while,
no more than five minutes.
Is that okay?
- I have to tell my wife.
She must be worried.
- Okay, we'll talk about that
when I get back,
because now I have an errand
to run.
Now, would you like to listen
to some music
in the meantime or not?
- Oh, yes, please.
- Okay, did you like the music
that I was listening to?
Or would you like something else?
- I don't know.
I can't remember.
- Okay, I'm gonna hurry up.
Don't move.
I am taking this shovel.
Okay, fine.
I'm taking a...
A key chain too, okay?
Hey!
What are you doing with my car?
Get away!
- Nothing.
I was just wondering
why the music was so loud.
That's all.
- So the radio's on.
I don't see what the big deal is.
- Well, normally people
turn their radios off
when they park their cars.
It's kind of strange to leave it on,
don't you think?
- No, I don't.
And normally people walk on their feet.
Don't you think it's a little bit
strange
that you need this thing to
wheel you around?
- Hey, go fuck yourself!
- No, really, you should
just call me whenever you want.
No matter what time it is,
wherever you are, Bob,
I will be there for you.
You're my top-priority client.
You can count on me.
- That's really nice.
- Seriously.
- Okay.
- So do we kiss now
to say good-bye or what?
- Why do you want to kiss me?
- Well, isn't that the way it's done
in the movie world?
- No.
- Everyone kisses everyone?
- No.
- Oh, I thought it was.
- No.
- Maybe it's
a regular cinema thing,
not for numerical movies.
- See ya, Duke.
Thanks, buddy.
Peace out.
- Hey, whatever you like.
Take care, Bob!
- Hey, I'm home.
- Hey, honey.
What are you doing home
so early?
- Well, I just decided
to pop in-
I was in the neighborhood-
and give you a kiss.
- Mwah!
- How's my little bunny?
- We're watching a great movie.
- Oh, really?
- You really smell like marijuana.
- I do?
Oh, uh, well, uh,
we seized a big shipment
this morning,
so I've been handling
big bags of weed all day.
- I know you're an office cop,
Daddy.
Forget it.
Can we just keep watching
our movie?
- Okay.
Sorry. I'll leave you alone.
Oh, this looks great.
- What are you doing with
a shovel, darling?
- Oh, this? I'm just-
It's nothing. I'll, uh...
I'll tell you later,
but it's not a big deal.
So, uh, yeah,
keep watching your movie.
I'll stop bothering you guys,
all right?
Hey! Sir?
Dont leave me here
without music!
Please!
- Holy fucking shit.
- Hey, baby, did you manage
to take care
of my parking tickets like I asked?
- Well, I haven't, uh-
I haven't tried,
to be honest with you.
- Well, that's not very nice.
'Cause when I asked you,
you said you would take care
of them.
I was counting on you.
I really was.
- Well, I have thought about it,
and I think you deserve those tickets,
Michael.
- Screw you!
Don't call me Michael.
- Hang on.
How fucking hard is it
to park in the right place?
I think you do it on purpose!
Why are you parking
in the wrong fucking place
all the time?
- You are such an asshole.
- Oh, my God.
I love this song.
You know it?
- I don't give a fuck
about your song, okay?
Don't ever call me again.
I'm out of here.
- That is up to me, buddy.
I will call you
if I fucking feel like calling you!
Yeah?
- Duke, where are you?
I need to see you immediately.
- Sunshine.
What do you want?
Don't tell me
you smoked it all already.
- No.
No, not at all.
But I have changed my mind.
- What are you talking about?
Changed your mind about what?
- I just found a bag of cash
buried in my backyard.
There's enough money in here
to buy weed for the next year,
maybe even two years.
Come on, man.
You expect me to believe
your bullshit?
Why don't you just say
you didn't have the balls
to finish the guy?
- No, no, no. I'm serious.
Im not kidding.
$13,000 in some old, crappy bag.
I think it was the life savings
of the guy who lived here before me.
- Wow.
Fuck!
- I know.
So I can pay you back
what I owe you,
and I no longer
have to kill this guy.
All I have to do is give him
back to you.
- Yeah, okay.
Where is the guy right now?
- Still in my car.
- All right, all right.
Bring him over.
I'm at the Flamingo Hotel, room 20.
I'm on my way.
- Fuck.
God damn it.
Fuck!
- Excuse me.
Do you mind if we sit with you?
- Are you talking to me?
- Yeah.
- Can we sit with you, please?
- Not unless you change
those haircuts.
- Well, I don't think
you're in the best position
to be talking about haircuts,
mister.
- Yeah, so can we sit or not?
- No.
I don't want to smell the stench
of that cheap cologne you got on.
- Cheap?
We're both wearing Ralph Lauren,
so...
- Yeah, well,
I never heard of the shit.
- Well,
it's 60 bucks a bottle,
so maybe you should have.
Come on.
Let's go sit over there.
- Yeah.
- Enjoy your meal.
- How are you today?
- I just woke up
20 minutes ago, barely.
So I'm a little out of it.
- Take a look at this.
That should wake you up.
- This is for fags.
Why do you have it?
- Open it. I'm telling you.
- Oh, no.
You like?
- Fuck...
Yuck. No.
- Ugh! God.
Get that away from me
before I throw up.
- I'm gonna photocopy it
and post it all over the place
for everyone to enjoy.
- You know that idiot
just found a bag of cash
digging a hole in his backyard?
- Are you kidding?
- No.
That dickhead found $13,000.
- Fuck me.
- Can you imagine?
I mean, you could get
your nose done for a third time
with that money.
- Fuck, yeah.
- You see?
You see?
Only losers
have that kind of luck.
If I dig a hole in my backyard,
the best I can hope for is a potato.
But that fucking moron
finds $13,000.
Only losers have that kind of luck.
- True.
- Hello?
- Hello.
Is this Mr. Vincent Rough?
- Who's asking?
- My name is Jack..
I just saw your ad
in the April issue of
Synthesizers magazine.
- Yeah.
- Is the drum machine still for
sale?
- Well, it depends.
What kind of music do you do?
- Well, its hard to describe.
Let's say I'm especially influenced
by '60s music,
but I like to mix it up
with more modern stuff.
- Okay, I get it.
You know what?
Go fuck yourself.
You don't deserve my drum machine.
- Who was that?
Some kind of dickhead.
- How much longer
you gonna make me wait, man?
Come on.
Play me that song.
- So what you have to know
is that this is not
the final mix, right?
I'm still working on the structure,
but it will give you a good idea
of what it is.
- Don't piss around
with your technical crap.
Just play it.
- You're the first to hear this.
- Okay. Okay.
Okay, okay. You can stop.
I get it.
- Okay.
So, again, I'm still working on it,
but what do you say?
- You want me to be honest?
- Totally, of course.
I mean, it's just the two of us.
- That song is shit in a can.
- What?
- I thought it was just awful.
- I disagree.
This song is a huge hit.
- A hit?
No way, Rough. Trust me.
I know this business.
That song sucks.
Not even a tampon ad
would want to use that song.
- You have ads for tampons
that are very good.
- I think you should just throw
that song in the trash
and start again from scratch.
I mean,
that's my friendly advice.
- Okay, Duke,
I appreciate your honesty,
but I'm still gonna wait
for a second opinion, okay?
- You want a second opinion?
- Yeah.
But from someone else.
Not a second opinion from you.
- I understand. Don't move.
- Where you going?
- I'll be right back.
Hey!
Wake up!
I need you for five minutes.
Come on. Get up.
Come on.
- Whoa.
- There you go.
- What is this?
What's happening?
- Just a guy from my neighborhood.
I'll explain later.
But he can tell you whether your song
is worth anything or not.
- Give it up.
Look at your guy.
He's a wreck.
What's the point?
- Do you want a second opinion
or not?
Okay...
Okay.
- Hello?
What?
Hold on!
No.
Who?
Bob?
Bob!
No, no.
I didn't forget.
I'm just around the corner.
Two minutes.
- Sir? Sir?
Hey. Hey!
What are you doing?
- I have to run!
Client emergency!
- No way.
You can't just leave that guy
at my place!
- Don't worry!
I'll be back to get him later.
He's easy. He won't move.
I won't be long!
- Shit!
- What's the matter, baby?
Why you screaming?
- That was nothing.
I was talking to a colleague.
- You have a minute?
We could fuck-- a quickie.
- Not now.
I'm working on something.
- That shitty song
you've been listening to
for the last four days?
Is that what you're doing?
You don't know anything
about music.
That's a huge hit.
Ah!
Sir.
Sir!
Wake up. Wake up.
What do you want?
- Your brown cock, stupid.
- I told you I'm busy.
What's the matter with you?
Go home!
- I'm bored at home.
My man is in there
with his moronic friends
watching the hockey on TV.
It's boring!
- Yeah, all right. Hockey sucks.
- Can't you get away from
your gay music for five minutes
and give me one?
Come on.
Let me in. Open up.
We-we can't do it here.
It's too dirty.
- Stop your bullshit.
Open up.
- What about my car?
- Anywhere.
In the trash room if you want.
- Sunshine speaking.
- Hi, sexy.
- Who is this?
- Guess.
- Mommy, is that you?
- You have a 14-year-old girl,
Sunshine, don't you?
- She's 13.
Who the fuck is this?
- Does your daughter know
that once upon a time
you did gay porn?
How much would you be willing
to cough up
so that she doesn't see her father
in a magazine
getting sodomized by convicts?
- Do you really think
you're gonna make it in music?
- Yeah. Why not?
- I don't know. You're a cop.
- So?
- It sucks.
Nobody wants to listen
to some cop's music, do they?
- Of course they do.
Hey, the game's over, honey.
- Hi.
Hey, darling.
Uh, was it good?
- Ah, it was not too bad.
Jimmy fell asleep.
He is so drunk.
- As usual.
Do you want me
to make you some coffee?
- Actually, we're out of beer.
- Okay. I'll go get you some.
Do you know Rough, our neighbor?
The cop?
- Oh!
Hi! Yeah!
Yeah, we bump into each other
sometimes.
How are you?
- Hi.
- You know, we hear you working
on your music.
The walls are so thin.
- I know. I'm sorry.
I'm gonna try to work with
headphones now.
- No, no, no, no. I don't mind.
I think it's quite good.
It's Ruth who can't stand it.
She said it's the worst music
she's ever heard.
Oh! That's it!
Yeah!
I think it's quite good.
You know, the groove is good.
Yeah. I don't know.
There may be just
a little something missing.
I don't know.
Oh, here's my favorite part.
- This is good.
This is good!
- Hi, Duke.
- God!
What the fuck are you doing here?
Jesus Christ!
Are you stupid?
You scared the life out of me!
- I wanted the element of surprise.
I need to talk to you.
- You couldn't do it like anyone else,
on the phone?
It would be easier, wouldn't it?
- No, because over the phone,
you can't threaten someone
with a knife.
You aren't seriously threatening me
with a kitchen knife, are you?
- Yeah, I could slit your throat
right open with this.
So don't fuck up.
- Oh, I see.
It's a joke, huh?
You joking piece of shit.
You want to steal my weed?
Is that it?
- No, I want to know
who you gave the information to!
Ugh!
- Give me that!
What information, for fuck's sake?
What are you talking about?
- About the money I found.
Who did you mention it to?
- I don't know.
I talked about it to everyone.
What's the problem?
- Really?
- Well, yeah.
Was I not supposed to?
- Oh, shit!
- What?
- Nothing, okay? Just-thanks a lot.
Next time, could you please
keep your mouth shut?
- Well, excuse me.
I must have missed something.
I don't understand
what your fucking problem is.
- It doesn't matter!
Okay, bye!
- Honey.
I'm dropping Kevin off at school
in your car,
and then I'm coming right back,
okay?
- What are you doing in your mink?
Are you crazy?
- I was just a little cold, that's all.
Can I take your car or what?
- Oh, yeah. I don't care.
- Okay.
- You really look like
a high-class hooker in that.
- Kevin, let's go!
We're taking BilI's car.
Come on.
Get in.
- You sure
you got a rendezvous here?
- Yes, I'm sure.
Now stop talking.
You're stressing me out.
Do you want to blow everything?
- They're 16 minutes late.
They got to be amateurs.
- I don't care, okay? Just stick to the
plan.
A bullet in the head, and that's the end
of it.
Stay on the line, though.
It makes me feel less lonely.
It comforts me.
- Am I stressing you out, or am I
comforting you?
That's not quite the same.
- There's a car coming.
This is it. Stop talking.
- Okay, Kevin.
This is super easy,
and just super fun, okay?
You're gonna get out of the car,
and you're gonna walk over
to the bag
that that man
just put on the ground,
and then you're gonna put
the gay magazine on the ground,
and then you take the bag,
and you bring it back
to the car to Mommy, okay?
- Okay.
- Oh.
Don't shoot, Screw.
It's a kid.
Really young.
Abandon the plan.
- Man, that's the worst exchange
I've ever seen.
A kid? A magazine?
What the fuck?
I was expecting
some dangerous guys here.
- Me too.
I didn't know
it was gonna be a kid.
- You're such a jerk.
You know,
I should have known.
Don't ask me again, Sunshine,
okay?
You're on your own with your shit.
- I'm sorry.
Okay, look-
- Ciao.
- I'm sorry.
- Come on.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Okay.
I'm going to be honest
with you guys.
I love your style.
I think this marketing idea
is fantastic.
The-the black, one-eyed,
slightly monstrous cop
and the dying, apathetic guy.
That's spot-on.
That could be great for videos
and the press.
Now, that really works.
I love the idea of the funny costumes.
Very out there. I like that.
- What funny costumes?
What are you talking about?
- Let me finish.
- Okay, sorry. Go ahead.
- Marketing is 95% of the job.
You know, it's fantastic
that you're ready
to take it to that level.
It's pretty rare, even.
Your visual approach has huge potential.
I'm not denying that.
That-that could be really huge,
but to get there,
you're missing an important detail.
- Oh.
Uh, what's that?
- The remaining 5% : talent.
I'm sorry.
Your song is a huge pile of shit.
It won't go anywhere.
- No.
It's not shit.
I think you're wrong.
- Uh, I think I know my job.
I've been in the business
for 30 years.
I have rarely heard anything
that bad.
I mean, guys, you got
to get back into the studio.
Seriously. This song is bad.
Believe me.
- You can't trash the song
with your radical judgments.
I've been working like crazy
on this for two months.
- What does that mean?
Did you know Michael Jackson
recorded Thriller
in ten minutes?
- Oh, really?
I don't think so.
- Uh, I-I do think so.
I know the engineer
who worked on the recording.
I can get him on the phone
right now.
He'll confirm it. Ten minutes flat.
It's not the amount of time you spend
on it that matters.
It's talent.
All right, yeah, sure,
it's nice to have funny costumes
and spend two months on a song,
but without talent...
what's the point, guys?
- What costumes?
We're not wearing funny costumes.
I'm really a cop. That's my job.
This guy's really dying.
It's not an ad campaign.
We're not trying to be cool
or whatever.
We are for real.
- Okay. Mm-hmm.
Well, that's even worse
than I thought.
You've just lost the stylish 95% .
Shit, that-that-
Okay, that brings you down
to nothing.
What a waste of time.
Why didn't you warn me
earlier?
Come on.
Guys, wake up.
Nobody wants to buy music
from some one-eyed cop
and an apathetic piece of trash.
- Produce my song.
It's no worse than any other.
I know it's not the biggest hit
of the year,
but it is a good song.
Produce it.
Please.
You can keep the rights
to the song.
I don't care.
I'm not doing this for the money.
- You know what?
Get the fuck out of my office,
you and your dumb friend.
Get the fuck out of here!
I've had enough of you.
Okay?
- I think...
I left the hose on
in my garden.
I've got to get home.
If I don't,
it'll be such a waste.
- It'll be such a waste.
Loves the saxophone--
You're gone and I--
- Hey, asshole! Open up!
Rough!
Open up!
- His door's always unlocked.
- Rough!
Are you there, buddy?
What the fuck are you doing
all dressed in your bathtub?
- I wanted to kill myself.
- What?
- Okay, then what?
- Then he took me-
he duct-taped-
he used-he-then he put
gray duct tape on me
and took me to someplace-
his house-
and it was disgusting.
- And where is this house, exactly?
- I have no idea.
On a street?
- On a street.
Okay.
Anything else?
- And then he takes off
all of his clothes,
undresses
down to his underwear,
starts playing some horrible music
very loud.
I have no idea
why he was in his underwear.
It was probably
the most disturbing moment
of my entire life.
- Can you feel it?
Can you hear it now?
This is what I call music!
Can you feel the beat?
This is real music,
David Dolores Frank!
- I really can't stay, sir.
I have homework to do.
- Forget your damn homework!
Listen to this, for fuck's sake!
This is more important!
Can you feel it?
You have to listen with your gut!
This is where music happens.
Do you understand what I'm saying?
In your guts!
In your organs!
Africa!
You understand?
- Yes.
- Good!
That's lesson number one.
You have any questions?
Hey!
David Dolores Frank!
Come back here!
Oh!
I'm not done with you!
- Mm-hmm.
- Why aren't you using
a typewriter?
ln movies, they use typewriters.
You're writing it with a pen,
and you're not using a typewriter.
Why aren't you using a typewriter?
- We're not in a movie,
David Dolores Frank,
and we don't have typewriters
here at the police station.
That's bullshit.
- Okay, it's not a movie.
- Now I'm gonna show you
a photo,
and I want you to tell me
if you recognize the man
you're talking about.
Here.
- I'd prefer if you referred to him
as my "aggressor,"
not "the man."
- Your aggressor, if you prefer.
- Yeah, it's important,
Because he's not a normal person.
- Take a look at the photo
and tell me if you see your aggressor
there.
- Okay.
- I need to show you something.
- What?
- Come.
- Now?
- Yes.
Come on.
- Okay.
- You are not going to believe this.
- Oh...my...God.
How much is in here?
- $13,000.
Isn't that crazy?
- Oh, shit.
Where did you get this?
- That's my business.
- Fuck!
- Crazy, isn't it?
- Give me some.
- No!
Are you stupid or what?
Give it back!
- Do you know how much
fucking money
you have in here, bitch?
Give me some!
- Are you crazy?
That's my money!
Stop it!
- You're acting
like a real fucking bitch here!
Give me some!
- No!
- Ohh!
Ugh!
- Screw you!
- That's the one. That's him.
I recognize him. That is the man.
- Out.
- W-why?
Why?
- Get out.
- Us?
- What?
- Get the fuck out!
- Wait, whoa, whoa.
- Get out!
- Ow!
- Aah!
Motherfucking bitch!
Ooh!
- Yes?
- Hey, it's Duke.
- Hi.
- So, youre alive.
- Yes, I'm alive.
I'm fine.
- You sound strange.
Why are you breathing
like that?
- That's nothing.
I'm just cold. Nothing.
- So are you finished
with your bullshit now or what?
- Yeah.
I tell you, I'm fine.
- Good..
If I ever see you
in such a homo
state of weakness again,
I will kill you myself.
Do you understand?
- Do that.
That works for me.
- Be a man, Rough!
Fag.
What the fuck are you doing?
Why don't you raise the shutter
instead of crawling out
like a fucking lizard?
- It's broken.
It won't open anymore.
I need to get it fixed.
God.
You Chinese people.
You make me laugh.
You're really good salespeople,
but for everything else,
you really are big dweebs.
Get the fucking thing fixed!
This is ridiculous!
- I'll take care of it.
Geez. Here.
- How many do we have this time?
- There's been a little problem.
It's not the usual.
- What do you mean?
Look, I can't catch the rats anymore.
I-I think they figured out
how my trap works.
It's over.
I didn't catch
a single one this week.
- Wait a minute.
You want me to sell the dope
in this?
You can't be fucking serious.
- Why not?
It-it's kind of the same.
It's the same size.
You can put it in your pocket
like a rat.
It's the same.
- It's disgusting to touch!
It stinks!
Are you sick?
Are you trying to kill my business?
Fucking fish?
- I can't help it, Duke.
I'm telling you,
I can't catch the rats anymore.
They're too smart.
- Shit!
Fucking...piece of...shit!
Fuck.
- Daddy?
What is this?
- Oh, no.
Oh, no!
No.
- Hey, there.
How are you?
- I'm great.
I'm not the guy who's dead,
so I can't complain.
What do you want?
- You think I could get a hit
off that joint?
Cemeteries stress me out,
and I think a little toke would help.
- Yeah, you know,
this is not actually smoking
just for the hell of it.
I'm testing a new weed,
so I have to smoke the whole joint
to test the quality, you know?
- I understand.
- Sorry.
- Not a problem.
Is that your joint that
smells like fish?
- No.
No one has told me anything.
What happened, exactly?
- He stabbed himself in the throat
with some garden tool.
- Oh, fuck, no.
- Disgusting.
- That's tough, though.
- Yeah.
- Shh!
- Hey, leave us alone.
- Yeah, why don't you go suck
each other's balls
and leave us alone?
- No, we don't do that.
You should show some respect.
This is a funeral,
God damn it.
- Okay, everybody.
Listen up.
I'm sorry.
My wife's right in the middle
of giving birth,
so I'm not gonna be able
to hang around forever here.
Um...
I have a prepared speech.
Don't know where the hell it is now.
Um, anyway, uh...
I'm not really very good
at this kind of bullshit,
but what I can say is,
Simon William Shine,
also known as Sunshine,
took his own life into his hands.
And as I speak to you now,
his tormented soul
is most certainly on its way to hell,
since, as we all know,
anyone who goes against
God's will
ends up in hell.
So, Sunshine...
I salute you.
You will forever remain
in our hearts,
and I wish you a good journey.
- Excuse me, Captain.
I don't want to offend you,
but you were just saluting
the sky,
and hell is under our feet,
underground.
- Yeah, I know that.
It just seems more natural
to salute the soul of the departed
towards the sky
rather than toward the ground.
Don't you agree?
It's more poetic.
- I don't think so.
It looks weird.
- Oh, it's even weirder
to salute the ground.
Look.
Huh?
"Hi!
Have a nice trip down to hell,
buddy!"
Huh?
Right?
- Okay, I take it back.
You're right.
Sorry.
- Well, if you want my opinion,
Captain,
I think we have the wrong idea
about hell,
just exactly like
we have the wrong idea
about paradise.
- What do you mean by that,
Duke?
- I mean, I'm a Christian,
but I've learned to not believe
those things we're told
in those old books.
You have to read between
the lines and decipher,
because, in reality,
hell is here.
This world
that we walk around in,
that we live in every day,
is hell.
We have invisible flames
around us.
You can't see them,
but we all have invisible flames
around us.
We get burned every day, but we
just don't realize it.
I mean, we are just
miserable slaves to nature.
- Duke, I don't think anyone
wants to hear
what you're saying right now.
Wouldn't you rather just say a little
word about Sunshine?
- Yeah, well,
I was getting to it, Andy.
I mean, I think...
I think that Sunshine left hell
for a better place.
I think that we are the dead,
and he is alive.
I mean, I know it sounds weird,
kind of, said like that,
but I do believe that.
And we should not cry
for Sunshine, my brothers.
We should cry for ourselves,
because we are in hell.
Wow.
Wait a minute.
That is a wild ride I was on.
I am so stoned right now.
Shit.
- Thanks.
You dick!
- I wanted to tell you
that what you said about hell...
that was beautiful.
I loved listening to you.
- Well,
I'm glad you liked it, ma'am.
I just made it up.
Uh, who-who are you again?
- I'm Sunshine's wife.
- Ah.
Oh, yeah.
Okay, I see.
- And I think you're completely right.
We really do live in hell.
I love this theory.
It-it allows you to consider
death differently.
It's a very powerful idea.
- Hmm.
And I think you
should write a book...
- I've forgotten what you just said.
- I said I-I think
you should write a book
on your theory.
It's a very interesting subject,
and you seem to master it.
- Yeah, see,
I don't know how to explain this.
Your words go in my ears,
but then they don't make it
to the processor.
- Do you want me to repeat it again?
No.
Hey, wow. Hang on.
Who-who smells like bad fish?
Is that you?
- Oh, no.
No, it's not.
I think it's you.
- Wow, what a gross, horrible stench.
No. No, no.
No, it's not me.
Hey, who's that?
Who's that little bitch over there?
Maybe it's her.
- That is my daughter.
Watch your language.
- Well, I think it's her.
- You're the one who stinks,
you dickhead.
Come on, Mom.
Let's go.
Don't talk to that guy.
- Yeah, fuck off!
Psh. Write a book.
Write a book about what?
Hey.
Hey!
Write a book about what?
Write a book about what?
Write a book about what?
- Well, like I told you,
this could be a big hit.
I think.
- I like it.
- Yeah.
Yeah, this has got a great groove.
How do you do that?
Oh, this is a killer.
- Well, it's about the feeling.
It's all about the feeling.
- You have some good feeling.
It's supercool.
I love it.
- Thank you.
That makes me happy.
- Oh, it just makes me
want to be in a dance club.
Only guys, though, no girls.
Yeah, just guys
dancing everywhere.
Really?
- Yeah.
Definitely no chicks.
This is a song just for guys.
- Totally, totally. Just dudes.
- Okay.
Okay.
Wow.