[eerie music bumper]
[4th Floor Pictures bumper]
[creepy organ music]
[rockabilly music]
Warning,
what you're about to witness is not for the faint of heart.
If you have any moral fiber in your being,
just an ounce of decency, you'll get up and leave.
You'll never think about this movie again.
We should also note that the producer of this film
is not responsible for your well being
if you decide to view the film in its entirety.
It is also in your best interest to
seek out therapy immediately after viewing.
We take no responsibility whatsoever,
but if you live on the wild side
and want to take the risk,
then we say good luck to you.
This movie is complete trash
and so will you be by deciding to take this ride.
You've been warned.
[rockabilly music continues]
The High.
Goes by so many names.
Blow, Coke, Crack,
Snow, Smoke and Smack,
Jazz Cabbage, The Devil's Lettuce,
Animal Trank, Horse...
I always liked that one...
Dabs, Tabs, Uppers,
Downers, and more recently, Molly.
And I tried them all,
more than once I might add,
and I liked them, every last one of them.
From hallucinogenics with a splash of air duster
to barbiturates
with a paint thinner chaser.
Fuck, I'd even sniff magic markers
if a nearby kid left them where I could get to them.
I shit you not,
one time my neighbor found me passed out in his shed,
cuddling with his gas can.
At times, I am genuinely shocked that I'm still alive.
Look, I could stand here and tell you about my
life's problems until I'm blue in the face,
it ain't gonna change anything.
I'm not going to get the years back
I spent putting my body through hell.
So aside from all that, and the fact that I'm clean again,
what I need,
what I really need right now,
is a ride home.
♪ One, two, three, four... ♪
♪ Country song playing ♪
The bar.
It's one of the last safe places for guys like me.
Basically,
it's home for those of us who are
less than zero.
Well, holy shit.
As I see it with my very own eyes, it's George.
- How the hell are you doing? - I'm good. I'm good.
I haven't seen you in a few months.
Where the hell have you been?
Rehab.
Rehab?
Now you're sitting here at my bar.
Rehab for drugs, not alcohol.
Oh, well that makes a world of difference.
- See? - If that's the case.
Here.
This one's on me.
Thank you.
Did you know that dribbling even
the tiniest little amount of alcohol onto a scorpion,
it's gonna make it instantly lose its shit
and start trying to sting itself to death.
Basically, that's
what I'm doing, just...
gradually, gradually.
Oh, this place.
So many memories.
Y'know, I even lost my virginity out back.
Yeah.
Kelly Myers...
really thought I was special
up until I find out that the boys
had a bit of a nickname for her.
They used to call her...
"Kelly Kelly, Cum Belly."
[sighs]
And what did I get from my troubles?
What was my love memento?
A rash.
A...
rash.
The worst part was
having to tell my mom to make a doctor's appoint for me.
And of course she goes running to my dad,
who proceeds to beat my ass and
accuse me of stealing money to
plow some of our finest local sex workers.
You really do never forget your first time.
So... what do you plan to do now that you're out?
Job recruiter with a social worker.
First thing tomorrow morning.
- Shit. - Gotta keep busy,
idle hands are the devil's workshop.
Well, you're lucky. Most people around here are laid off or
- still trying to find something. - Yeah.
Hell, I'm still trying to get my disability.
Disability for what?
That, uh... what do they call it? The, uh...
most dramatic... dress order?
Traumatic. Post traumatic.
Post traumatic... stress disorder.
That's it, that's it.
You ever seen half the shit I seen in the sandbox,
You'd need disability too.
Brothers getting blown up by IEDs,
towel heads, camels getting blown to pieces.
Did some of it myself.
If that isn't a disability,
I don't know what is.
Well, I'd call that a compelling argument for social security.
Yeah. The job market.
It's tough now. Um...
Especially because I don't have any skills.
I can't write, I can barely read.
I haven't had a job since 1995.
Good luck.
Don't be wasting your money on
sticking those drugs up your ass, alright?
I would never stick drugs up my ass.
Okay, I stuck drugs up my ass one time
and that's how I ended up in rehab.
I don't think I needed to go personally.
I think it was bullshit.
Now, the second, third, and fourth times,
yeah, I needed to go.
I had gotten way too comfortable in a dark place.
And let me tell all you trust fund junkies with your
faces pressed up against the coffee table something real,
rehab sucks!
And I'm not even talking about the part where you have
to face your demons and you have to apologize and forgive.
No, I mean, the fucking dick bags you have to live with.
Oh my God. Basically just sociopaths who
plea bargain their way out of prison.
Then they get to tell their sad stories about how they were
molested by Uncle "Fuck Me in the Ass."
And that gave them the impetus to hit a college campus
and start hacking up sorority girls with a hatchet.
It's a touching tale,
but it's old news.
In a few months they're gonna be back out on the streets,
hacking up more college girls or whatever else is cluttering up
the court system's calendars.
Big picture: Most of these rehab lifers,
they're never gonna quit.
They're just gonna keep banging junk until
one day...
they decide to draw a warm bath and slit their wrists, or...
see what the barrel of a 12 gauge tastes like,
if you know what I mean. [gunshot]
Bottom line. It doesn't matter who you are
when you're locked in a padded room, sweating like a pig at 4AM
and the only thing you can think about
is banging junk into your arm.
Rehab ain't no picnic.
So the first time I went to rehab,
I really felt like I was being railroaded into going.
I knew I didn't wanna be there and I didn't think I needed to.
Let me show you how it all went down.
[plucky string music]
[distant voices]
- That's what I'm here for. - Yes, yes.
♪ Intervention... ♪
♪ Intervention... Intervention... ♪
What is this?
Did somebody die of syphilis?
This is supposed to be a Sci-Fi Convention.
George.
Hi, George. John Marla.
- Hi. - Won't you come in and join us?
Come on.
Okay.
Please take a seat.
Now George,
everyone's here today for you. Okay?
They're here because they care and love you very much.
Unlike my ex-wife who never really cared
to love me at all.
She loved several other men, especially Hector,
the lawn boy.
Anyway...
each of them have written you a letter
and they'd like to read it to you.
I don't personally know you, so I didn't write you a letter.
Had I had a little time to get to know you,
I may have wrote you a letter.
Maybe when this is done I'll write you a letter,
but in the meantime,
what I'd like to have right now is for each of you
to read your letters to George.
Now, who would like to go first?
So... this isn't the Sci-Fi Convention?
[sighs]
I'll go first.
Very good, Lisa, please...
read the wonderful letter you wrote to George.
I can really feel the positive energy in this room right now,
unlike the positive energy my ex-wife ever gave me.
I hope her new husband's dick falls off!
I'm sorry, Lisa, please.
Dear George,
I'm writing this letter to you
to let you know how distant
you have been in the past few weeks.
We've only been together for a month!
Poor George.
George, please don't interrupt. I need to hear the rest of this.
Plus, you're bringing a lot of negative energy
into the room right now.
I don't want to have to put you in a timeout.
I feel that your drug usage
has been pushing our love apart.
Lisa, the night we met,
we did cocaine together off of a bathroom sink in a bar.
George, please, don't interrupt again
or I'm gonna have to ask you to leave.
I miss the old George that I fell in love with.
The George that
would hold me in his arms
and make love to me for hours.
And now when we make love
you can't even get it up.
That happened once.
One time.
- George. - What is this?
Is this just shit on George day?
Madonna Santa,
George, you're doing the dirty dance?
Okay, let's all stop here for a moment.
This isn't about bashing George, but an intervention.
Now George,
your friends and family are all here because
they're concerned about your drug usage
and how it's affecting your life,
and their lives.
Now I know drugs might make you feel
pretty good at first, right?
They might make you look like the
cool cat at a party.
But at the end of the day George,
drugs are just bad.
You just say no, George.
It's kind of like when your wife brings up that she wants to
try new things in the bedroom and
suggests bringing in two to three black men to spice it up.
You just say...
"No, George!"
I don't have a drug problem.
I've done a little bit of this and a little bit of that,
but it's not like I'm going around doing home invasions
so I can get my fix for the day.
A good drug user knows how
to act and fool the people around him.
Now we all know this isn't an act
and you're only fooling yourself, mister.
So please,
let's sit here and listen to the rest of the stories.
I'm sure we wanna hear more stories about George, right?
Or...
I could tell you how I'm not permitted to buy a gun.
'Cause if I were permitted to buy a gun,
I'd probably take it over to my ex wife's house
and show the bitch how it works.
Oh, this should be good.
Okay, now who would like to go next?
How about you, Jared?
You look like the hitman I tried
to hire to cut the brake lines on my ex wife's car.
I didn't write a fucking letter.
It's okay. Look, don't worry. Just...
tell George how you feel.
I don't give a fuck what he does.
I mean, look at him. He's an asshole.
He's always been an asshole, and he always will be an asshole.
Oh, I can absolutely feel the brotherly love in this room.
Oh, fuck you, George!
Seriously, mom must have been getting fucked in the ass
when she got pregnant with you.
Because you're such a piece of shit.
Oh, I'm supposed to be like you?
Look at you.
Mr. All-Star, my great older brother!
You're goddamn right, you selfish prick!
I could've fuckin' been All-Star
if it wasn't for dealing with your retarded ass!
This is all I get!
- Oh Fuck you! - Fuck you.
I've been babysitting your ass trying to
teach you how to be a fuckin' man!
[laughs]
A man.
You're supposed to be a man?
This guy drinks a case of beer a night,
slaps his wife around,
and then they decide to just
pump out two or three kids a year.
And far be it for me to be judgmental, Jared,
but I'm pretty sure one of those kids isn't yours.
That's it, you son of a bitch.
What? They look Hispanic.
My kid ain't no fucking beaner!
Why don't you just do us all a fucking favor
and fucking kill yourself, you fucking loser!
Can really feel the brotherly love in this room.
Should we continue? I mean...
- Seems to be taking it well. - Yes.
Georgie needs to hear this.
By all means.
Oh, cut me a break, Ma.
We all know that Jared was your favorite.
Watch your mouth, George.
You want me to tell your father how you're behaving here today?
Holy fuck, Ma!
Dad died eight years ago. Can you just move on?
Mrs. Stryber...
why don't you read your letter about what a mess George is?
Okay. Sure.
Dear Georgie,
I'm here today to ask you
to go and get some help
for all of the aspirin you take.
Oh, you're a good boy, Georgie.
You've always been a good boy.
Yeah,
you could have tried harder in school with your grades.
You could have tried a little harder
when you started to play baseball.
Your father and I hope that your friends,
like Willie here,
would have rubbed off on you and straightened you out.
Your father always wished you would have
been more like your friend Willie.
He used to say,
"I wish my son was Willie...
and not George."
Willie?
You want me to be more like Willie?
Willie's the one that introduced
me to drugs in the first place.
I would never do anything like that, Ms. Stryber.
No, no, no, George, no.
Don't be pointing the finger at me for your issues.
Oh, no. Especially that finger.
That's the finger you stuck inside
that little midget at bingo night.
Bingo night, George!
Who in the fuck brings a midget to bingo night?
Everybody knows you bring midgets to Tiny Taco Tuesday.
[chuckles]
No George, all of this...
is on you.
All on me?
All on me!
Willie, we used to grow that shit in your parents' backyard
and tell them it was a science experiment.
I hope everybody here knows.
Knows what George is doing here, right?
I mean, it's obviously clear
that he's making up lies.
You know to cover up his...
"drug usage."
George... stop the denial already.
You know what?
I think this is the perfect time
for you to admit to all these fine people in your life
that you are really...
a KKK member.
[record scratch]
No, this ain't gonna work.
Hey guys, I think you gave me the wrong size.
Who the fuck are we supposed to hate again?
[record scratch]
- It'll be okay. - Is this fun for you?
Are you having fun with this?
'Cause you look like you're having fun with this.
Oh, I am I'm enjoying the hell out of this.
You know what?
You should tell them about your superpower abilities
that you claim to have.
You know, where you go out at night and fight crime
with your finger blasting abilities.
[laughs]
Fuck you, Willie.
The only reason we let you hang around us
to begin with was because
had big old titties.
George.
Stop with the hate already.
Come on.
That's enough with that, you know...
you know what you need?
I know what you need.
You need to get back to loving yourself again.
And I don't mean that kind of love where you jerk off
every morning to pictures of chicks from the
Buba Buba tribe that you found
in some old travel magazine
that your mom has laying around.
I know you got those magazines,
but you know, they make new magazines of those.
I mean the titties still hang down below their knees and shit,
but the pictures, man, they're way glossier.
So...
you need to grab yourself a tissue,
and get off that bumpy road of drugs.
Those weren't scratch and sniff pages?
Well, this has been fun and everything,
but I think this is my cue to leave, so...
George, wait.
What?
Don't get raped in rehab.
For fuck's sake...
Willie, bar later?
Oh, you bet, buddy. Hey, could you save me
a urinal beer if you find one?
Urinal beer: Noun, singular.
A bottled beverage that a bar patron
brings into the men's room
and ultimately leaves there
due to being too drunk to remember it.
Thus rendering it fair game for whoever wants to scoop it up.
On one hand, it's probably warm,
and if it's open,
there really could be anything in it,
depending on what night of the week it is.
On the other, it's free.
So keep an eye out the next time you're
in the men's room at your favorite bar,
you might just find yourself a urinal beer.
Well... [sighs]
My other trips to rehab were
a lot less dramatic.
My mom still thinks I'm the drug kingpin of the city.
Lisa...
she went off and married some fuck bag with deep pockets
and they had twins.
I was kind of hoping that they would
come out all conjoined in a
TV documentary kind of way.
I know that's bad karma, but...
I'm kind of at the bottom of the barrel
when it comes to karma right now.
Anyway, Jared is my asshole brother.
You know, I did a lot of
thinking when I was on the inside about
the meaning of life, why we're here.
Everyone's always telling me about
what a role God played in their lives and...
what is God?
Is God a he, a she,
personally I just hope that God isn't some big, drunk
alien cruising around the cosmos in his big mothers hip.
So what did I learn after all this? Well...
it's hard to see the light if you keep your eyes closed.
I don't know what that means.
It was carved into one of the walls in the padded rooms.
[light, up-tempo music]
[knocks on door]
Come on in.
I'm Mr. Stevens.
I'm George. Nice to meet you sir.
- Nice to meet you. - Yeah.
I'll keep this short, George,
'cause I have a dozen things to do today.
Yes sir.
I get all the druggies...
after they get rebirthed
and I have very little high hopes
that you're gonna be around long.
Yes, sir.
I've heard of your issues
and you wanna get back on your feet.
- That's a good thing! - Yes. Yes sir.
But I personally
don't like dopers, druggies,
hippie fuckers
or anything else that fucks me off.
Do you understand what I'm talking about, George?
Yes, sir. I completely understand sir.
Personally speaking, I've fallen off the wagon
so many times it's not worth it to get back on.
I... was terrible at the Oregon Trail.
That's real good, George.
The things you should know about me
is I can become angry or violent at any given time.
I have what they call a short fuse.
It doesn't matter where I'm at
or what I'm doing.
I can have a little explosion
at any time.
It happens a lot when I'm on the road.
They call that road rage.
Well, I guess it's a good thing
you run a job recruitment center then.
What, are you being a smart ass?
No sir. No, I'm just agreeing with you on the rage.
My wife has told me I need to talk to someone
because my violence might be connected to my childhood.
- Do you believe that, George? - No, sir.
I don't believe that at all.
You seem very well adjusted to me, sir.
So what if my old man used to punch holes in the wall
and throw shit just because things didn't go his way?
He was still a good role model to me.
No, sir. I completely understand, sir.
You seem very well adjusted
and your father sounds like he was a great man.
And he raised a wonderful son.
Oh, George...
I know your daddy ran out on you and your brother
- when you were young boys. - No, sir.
He actually passed away.
Uh, that black lung thing.
- Was he a coal miner? - No...
he was a smoker.
Well, the bottom line is,
he still ran out on you and your brother.
Just because you die,
it doesn't stop you from being a father to your children.
That's just being a pussy in my opinion.
Yes, sir. I understand.
From a distance, but I understand.
What I'm trying to say, George,
do not look at me as your job placement director,
but as someone you can depend on.
I'll try my best to be the father you never had.
Well, thank you Mr. Stevens.
I really don't know what to say.
Don't say anything.
It's the same speech I give to all the
drug heads that come in here looking for a job.
I will set you up with an interview.
You will attend the interview and you'll take a position.
Do we understand each other?
Yes. Thank you, Mr. Stevens.
Or...
do I call you daddy?
Mr. Stevens is what you call me,
and my wife wrote that stupid ass speech.
So don't take that to heart.
Right.
Thanks again.
Goddamn hippies.
[light jazzy music]
George. It's nice to meet you.
Nice to meet you too, sir.
So we have a few positions to fill here.
Can you tell me a little bit about yourself?
Well...
Uh, I did just get out of rehab.
I had a little bit of an addiction to nose candy.
I do get afraid of full moons...
They make me feel a little squirrely and
I am deathly afraid of phallic shaped objects.
Okay, um...
George, so what motivates you?
What really gets your blood pumping?
What are some things
that you can tell me about yourself that way?
Tits.
Tits are my number one motivator.
I've gotta make money because you have to pay strippers
and hookers and...
women of the night.
So if you could put a nice juggy calendar on the wall,
that would be a great motivator for me.
Please stop looking at my breasts.
My apologies. Sorry.
[exhales]
So, uh George,
where do you see yourself in the next five to 10 years?
Leading a Mexican cartel.
That sounds like it would be good.
Uh... traveling with the circus.
Maybe sparking up a romance with the bearded lady.
I'm sorry, what?
My God, George...
we do still have a few positions available.
Can you push a broom?
How far exactly am I pushing this broom?
George, how do you feel about cleaning?
Picking out the garbage,
picking up, just janitorial stuff.
I have had some bad experiences with...
chloroform.
So George...
can you tell me what would make you
the best candidate for a position here?
Well, I showed up.
That should count for something.
Do you want swig? No?
Are we even allowed to drink on this job?
Yeow! [sighs]
I'm sorry, what were you saying?
George, I got a question for you.
If you were an animal, what type of animal would you be?
A girl's bicycle seat.
George, that's not even an animal.
A capuchin monkey with only three legs.
An albino zebra with two penises.
The spider from Charlotte's Web.
I don't think you know what you're talking about.
How do you define success, George?
Surviving the abortion.
Yeah,
janitor at high school
found me in the toilet tank one night
after the homecoming dance.
Been on my own ever since.
George, talk to me about your leadership skills.
Do you have any leadership skills...
any skills?
I used to be the leader of our neighborhood PTO...
and our neighborhood KKK.
George, you got a lot of things on this resume,
but what is your greatest accomplishment?
What are you most proud of?
I would have to say...
becoming a father...
to those three Amish children.
I mean...
it's okay.
I had a brother that was dropped on his head as a child, so...
just keep going, George. You're doing fine.
I'd have to say that my earliest memory is
getting repeatedly poked in the forehead with a clothes hanger.
Make of that what you will.
I hope this is checked "no,"...
but George, do you have any questions for me?
Is there any chance I could get paid in gold coins?
Preferably housed in a wooden chest?
Yeah.
I'm gonna tell you one more time:
Eyes up here.
Uh... yeah, we...
[exhales]
Yeah, we'll be in touch, alright?
George...
can you just lead yourself
out of this interview so we all can leave?
No, George... I will not go out with you.
Thank you very much.
Thank you for taking the time to speak to me.
I got the job, didn't I?
Yeah, that's what I thought.
Monday?
Noon?
[record scratch]
Do I know George and Willie?
Unfortunately, yes.
Some of the things might be terrible.
They used to come in my place all the time
and never pay.
Got to the point that they'd wear costumes
and thinking I couldn't figure it out.
One time I was having a midget
wrestling thing going on, an event.
Caught 'em both in the back. They got a hold of a midget
trying to hump it.
All I can see is little legs kicking.
Kick 'em out.
They fall on the front sidewalk
and they say they're gonna sue me.
They'll settle out of court
for a lifetime of free beer.
I settle out of court with my baseball bat.
I hope George and Willie get syphilis and fucking die.
Those little corkscrew things are the germs of syphillis.
[bluesy music]
Did you know the stomach has to produce a new layer of mucus
every two weeks,
otherwise it'll digest itself.
My stomach,
it probably has to produce a new layer of mucus
every 15 minutes
on account of all the drinking I do.
But that's all good with me,
because someday...
I plan on donating my stomach to science.
And this is George.
Well, you probably already met the guy,
but I'm betting he left a few things out.
You see, I highly believe George is a bit retarded.
Now, I don't say this to be an asshole
or to use it as some kind of slur. No, he's my best friend.
I love the guy
and I truly believe his mom might have dropped
him on his head when he was just a little baby.
Or maybe she let him suck on those titties way too long.
Man, she had some nice fucking tits,
they were probably full of whiskey or
some kind of antidepressant or some shit.
I wouldn't have mind sucking on those
titties myself a few times.
Hey, that gives me an idea.
Whiskey tits!
Who the fuck are you talking to?
Hey, do you got the number to the patent office?
George, where did you get that?
It was a urinal beer. It's a freebie.
It's not even open.
Well, you still need to pay for it.
But it's a soldier who went down for the cause.
Trust no one when you're in the bush, George,
especially Filipino women in downtown Detroit.
Plus,
I know you're black Harry Houdini ways.
Okay, well then what would you charge me for this beer?
You're gonna pay him for a beer you found?
Yeah. That should solve this problem.
- It's three bucks. - Three bucks, fuck me! Alright,
take it outta that.
Hey, do you have a can opener or a bottle opener?
Anything? No. Okay.
And this is where we call home,
The bar. Well, at least any bar to let us stay.
We're just a...
couple of lonely barflies.
There's nothing in this wallet, George!
This online dating thing is bullshit!
There's only two hot singles in our area,
and one of them's your mom.
Well, the other one on there is your mom, so...
Willie, why are we doing this to ourselves?
We're torturing ourselves in the middle of nowhere.
Why are we wasting our lives?
Pack and move?
I hate the beach.
Well...
George here,
even though he is a bit mentally challenged,
he's right.
I mean, we stay here and live
the worst American dream ever.
It should be on a T-shirt.
"Welcome to Shitvale."
Worst problem here
is the women.
I mean, there's more sausages than pies if you follow me.
Plus the other side is...
I have dating issues.
I mean...
I'm just not one to grow roots in the same spot.
Well, I guess I kind of am.
What I'm trying to say is,
I'm not one to keep my root in the same hole.
Follow me on this.
You see, over the years, I've come to understand one thing.
That one thing is...
I completely don't understand women.
I use all the great pickup lines...
and never get any ass!
I mean, it's gone down to it at times where
I've just pulled out my cock
and said, "Look at it."
And you know what?
Still nothing.
Now I've come to understand that we only need them for one thing,
and that one thing?
It only takes a few minutes... at best.
Now don't get me wrong.
I've tried dating.
Hell, I've even had several relationships,
but they never work for me.
There's the nagging
and the bitching
and more nagging and more bitching
until I just wanna take a hammer to their fucking head.
If you know what I mean,
and I'm sure you do.
You know what? Here's an example.
I'm gonna say something really nice.
Watch how she reacts.
Hello, sweetheart,
how are you?
Hey, did you miss me and my love missile today?
Where the fuck have you been?
I've been fucking calling you...
- I ran out of banana pudding. - 20 Goddamn times
and you haven't even picked up the goddamn phone.
- I don't. - I swear to fucking God.
Have you been out with some other fucking slut?
- Slut? I've never seen. - If you're fucking...
some other strange
or your fucking your friend George in the fucking ass.
By the way, where the fuck is my money?
You fucking know that kid is yours.
Fucking grow a pair of balls,
dude, and own up to
your fucking mistake.
You piece of shit
and get a real job while
you're fucking at it.
- Fucking piece of shit. - As you can see...
I can do it out the love.
And aggravation.
you fucking piece of shit.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. - Fuck you.
By the way, you know your ass smells like shit?
Why don't you ever take a fucking shower?
Holy fucking God. You smell like a goddamn animal.
Otherwise, you're fucking
a dead animal. So which is it?
You fucking piece of shit.
Get the fuck out of my way.
Piece of goddamn...
- fucking shit. - As you can see...
I can't deal with that shit. And I personally believe
most men can't either.
Right now, you're probably saying to yourself,
Willie, why don't you just go get yourself a hooker?
Or... maybe one of those "special massages"
at one of those oriental places.
Believe me,
I thought of that. And you know what?
Hookers? They cost money.
Lots of money. And I don't have any,
Ah, not for me.
Plus, you don't know where that dirty piece of ass has been.
Some fat lady with stretch pants on?
Fuck that!
If I'm paying her anything,
it's to keep her goddamn clothes on.
Oh, definitely not for me.
Huh, I don't wanna get gangrene on my dick.
As for those oriental massage places?
Didn't we blow up most of those in the war?
Maybe a few of them made it.
Anyway, If you want tits and ass
and wanna dry hump until that
zipper rips your cock skin off?
Well, there's one place to go.
[no dialogue, rock music continues]
[rock music ends]
Now this is where we come to when we got that itch in
the old nut sack, if you know what I mean.
Besides, dating in small town shithole America?
Well, it sucks.
There is really nothing to pick from here.
I mean, I'm about a half a step away
from actually just ordering one of those mail order brides.
The only issue is the shipping.
- That's a lot of stamps. - Come on Willie.
- There's boobies to be seen. - Oh.
Oh. Well George, did you bring your protection?
Yeah.
Oh yes. I have my lucky condom.
- The one from high school. - Whoa whoa, your lucky condom.
Yes. The one from high school.
When you're done with it...
You put your thumbs down inside. Roll it.
Why are you looking at me like that? It's not funny.
You're telling me you reuse the same condom?
Yes, Willie. It's like putting back on a wet bathing suit.
Don't you have your lucky condom?
No. No, I don't.
Why not?
Besides, condoms are for people who care.
Let's get in there.
[disco music]
I would snort my mother's ashes off of that one's tits.
- Your mom's still alive. - I said what I said.
Ooooh...
I found my future mistake.
[disco music continues]
Mommy?
Finally, a girl I can take home to mom!
- Hey. - Hey, you look familiar.
Oh no, I have a twin on stage.
That's why I look familiar to you.
Ah, yeah.
Would you like a lap dance?
I want to take you away from all of this.
Hey, I got an idea.
Let's get married.
Have babies? And then we'll...
get a house with a white picket fence and a little doggy.
Oh and a 401K plan.
'Cause we're adults!
And health insurance, Sunday dinners.
And then we'll go on those vacations
where we can stroll on the beach together.
Yeah, let's live that dream.
Until I can't take it
and I go on a killing spree starting with you,
and then I'm gonna get that
hairy Yeti bitch that tried to give me syphilis
and then finally...
end up at some remote mall
where the cops gun me down.
OK yeah, let's just start with a lap dance.
Ah, very good.
Hey, I love you by the way.
- Do you wanna see them? - Yes. Yes I would.
Tip please.
Oh yeah, of course. One second..
See what I got here...
Really?
Got a couple of scratch offs here.
One of those has gotta be a winner.
Uh... beer chip. That's for a bottle.
Probably domestic. Let's see here.
We got an Indian wooden nickel that should work at any casino.
[light harp music]
Hey. Say...
do you do any of those...
midget shows or,
you know, one of those donkey shows?
What? No.
Wait.
[faint growling noise]
Did you hear that?
Hear what?
That... that sound right there.
I've heard this before.
I don't hear anything.
It sounds
like a gremlin on crack
and it's coming
from there.
What are you talking about?
It's a crotch goblin
and it's living right in there.
Right in there!
Listen to me and listen to me carefully.
You need a vagina exorcism
and you need it done immediately.
It's a good thing I'm a specialist.
We shall save your soul...
and that vagina.
This is... a missing children's poster.
I don't know why I have it. This isn't you, is it?
Kind of looks like you, do you have daddy issues?
Anyways, sorry. Last but not least here.
Looks like we got a treasure map.
I never went and looked for it.
I'm not allowed to use metal detectors.
You know, the plate in my head.
[disco music continues]
No, you don't understand.
You need a cock goblin exorcism
and my cock power will send that demon straight back to hell!
[record scratch]
You both got syphillis!
I don't think that was completely necessary.
[Willie grunts]
I could have got that crotch goblin for ya!
We'd like to take a moment right now to thank
good old Uncle Harvey
for providing the producer of this fine film
with those exquisite boobies,
tatas, knockers, whatever you like to call them,
those beautiful globes of visual stimulation.
Thanks Uncle Harvey.
You're one of the good ones,
but we do so much better here on Rufie Night.
Me tunin' all over the fucking place.
Let's get back to the bar.
Here's a little advice from your Uncle Willie.
Date the stripper... but never knock up the stripper.
That's sound advice.
Where the hell have you been?
To go and address the issues with society
and the lack of vagina in this area.
Did you see her?
- Who? - Her!
[uptempo pop music]
- Oh... - Willie, back off.
I saw her first. She's my future wife.
No way. She's my future first divorce.
By the end of the night, she's gonna have
my initials tattooed on her inner thigh.
Yeah. In my jizz.
- Are we doing this? - You know it.
May the best line win.
Hi.
Let's play "fuck, marry, kill"...
Me, Hitler, or me again?
All those answers are pretty obvious.
You could be a Nazi for all I know.
How about a game of 20 questions?
- You go first. - Okay, fine.
Easy one.
What is your favorite food?
Italian food.
- My turn. - Okay.
Have you ever had ass sex?
No, I have not.
Alright, fine.
Tell me one of your secret fantasies.
Ass sex.
Me again.
My friend over there would really like your phone number.
That way he knows where to reach me in the morning.
Hey, I'm no weatherman...
but you can expect more than a few inches from me tonight.
Oh...
All right. Short and sweet. Let's go halves on a baby.
No.
So do you come here often or...
do you wait until you get home?
[gags]
I am gonna masturbate later and I'd
really like a name to go with the face.
My God!
God it is.
Here's the thing, I'm gonna have sex with you tonight.
You may as well be there.
In your dreams.
Hey, it's better than nothing.
Hell, one time I saved a Filipino girl
by jumping on top of her.
Ugh! I'm in a relationship.
I got a math test tomorrow.
What does that have to do with anything?
I thought we were talking about things we were gonna cheat on.
- Is your name Emerson? - No.
That's strange, because Emerson nice titties.
Oh...
All right, all right, all right.
I will bet you $500 that you will not sleep with me.
Do you even have $500?
No. No I do not.
Uh huh. Bye.
You must be an American school...
because I'd really like to shoot some kids inside of you.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
Man, Pastor Brown said that shit would work.
Ah, wait. He goes from a different age group... shit.
Hey lady. How about just some cock?
Usual stuff's not working, Willie.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
- Duct tape? - What? No.
- Yes. - No!
She's lost that loving feeling, George.
- No she hasn't. - Yes.
Yes she has.
I hate when they do that.
A 5, 6, 7, 8...
♪ If I promise to be quick ♪
♪ oh darling won't you suck my dick? ♪
♪ I'll close my eyes. ♪
♪ Curl my toes ♪
♪ probably get some on your clothes. ♪
♪ Oh, darling won't you suck my dick. ♪
♪ And when you slam those tits together, ♪
♪ I could tit-fuck you forever. ♪
♪ 'Cause I'm one horny bastard. ♪
Goddammit, George, you never let me do my part!
Have you ever had your assholes licked
by a skinny skank with no gag reflex and
some serious daddy issues?
No.
God no.
Secret fantasy number two.
And you two never will.
That's why I'm a lesbian.
Uh... lesbo?
Why in the fuck would you let us waste our time on you?
You...
You she devil!
Lesbo.
Yes, George.
One of those... those
those flying monkeys, the old wise men used
to come down and tell us about.
Why, God?
Why God must you...
do this to us!
It's like running through hell with gasoline underwear on.
[tape rewind sound]
Oh, and I hope you both get syphilis.
[door closes. [George chuckles]
Lesbo.
She might think she's a lesbo now,
but before you know it,
she's gonna be back playing for the team that
swings with the biggest bats.
And then she'll end up married.
She'll have a loving husband
living in her lovely leafy London loft.
Yeah. The lesbian thing?
It's just a phase.
All it's gonna take is one more trip on that dick, and...
she's going to be married to that pogo stick.
Fucking A!
Here are some fun facts about lesbians you might not know.
One, all lesbians are good with power tools.
Two,
most lesbians don't scissor as much as you think they would.
And three,
lesbians don't usually squirt.
And I think that's just sad.
[in unison] Amen.
[light comedic music]
It is not even doing drugs that's the problem.
It's gathering the supplies. I mean, do you really think
you can just go down to your local supermarket
and pick up everything you need to cook for that night?
It's not that easy.
I mean, you can get killed for just even
buying the cooking supplies. So...
doing drugs is not really a job.
It's more of an adventure.
Otis, it's George.
Yeah?
Oh. Otis, it's George. Don't you remember?
- George? - Yeah.
George.
George how are you?
- I'm good. How are you? - Good.
Hey, are you here to buy some cookies?
"Cookies" is slang for pretty much any drug you want.
Yeah. I'm here to purchase some cookies.
Come on in.
Wipe your feet.
[wipes feet]
Really?
Look, Cecil. Look who's here. It's George.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don't sit on Cecil.
Jesus. I'm sorry, Cecil.
Cecil... shut the fuck up!
God. Damnit. Cecil!
No, Cecil. It was the horse
who had syphilis.
So what brings you around? I haven't seen you in a while.
- Rehab. - Oh yeah?
Did you see anybody in there I would know?
Yeah. Probably everybody there.
Cool.
I should probably visit sometime.
Ah... okay. Anyway, Otis,
you wouldn't happen to have any of the dream left, would you?
California Dream.
♪ Dreaming of California. California Dream. ♪
Otis!
Hmm?
The dream?
Oh yeah. It's back here. Follow me.
It's not here.
I had a whole bag of California. It was right in here.
Are you sure you didn't just put it somewhere else?
No, no. Right here I had it.
You know they're always trying to rip me off, George.
Just calm down. It's gotta be here somewhere.
Calm down? It had a big fucking X on it.
You don't see it, do you?
No Otis, I don't see it.
It was Cecil. Had to be.
Cecil? How could it be Cecil? He's imaginary.
He doesn't exist.
He's not real. Persona non grata.
Are you calling me a liar?
How could it possibly be Cecil?
He's imaginary. He doesn't exist.
The doctors have told you time and time again.
The stoners just want more.
He probably just snuck in here when I wasn't looking.
Or maybe you did it.
Have you lost your goddamn mind?
I have been with you since the second
I walked through that door.
Then it must have been Cecil.
I'm not fucking around, George.
I'm gonna go ask him.
Jesus, Otis.
Did you fucking rip me off?
Did you rip me off?
Oh Jesus Otis.
It couldn't have been Cecil. Okay?
Just put the gun down please.
Yes you did.
Stand up, empty your pockets.
Turn around, drop your pants.
Spread,
tuck it back.
All the fucking way back!
Otis how many times
do we have to tell you? Cecil's not real.
Put the gun down.
You're gonna put holes in the couch.
I'm so sorry, Cecil. It was a joke.
I was just kidding around.
Otis, who's gonna rip you off? Nobody would ever think
to rip you off.
I'll tell you what, I'll go make you some waffles
and then we'll go do a home invasion.
How does that sound?
Y'know, plans from back long ago
when they wanted to get rid of their undesirables,
they torched their homes.
I'd be willing to bet that throughout the years,
a lot of people have tried to reduce this house to ash.
But that's the kinda shit a junkie's gotta go through.
If they want to get their fix.
You can't just walk next door and
ask your neighbor anymore.
So the next time you're at the local watering hole and
you see two people ripping lines off of the bathroom sink
spare a thought for them because it probably wasn't easy.
They probably spent their last dime to get that fix.
Besides, if you can't trust your friends,
who can you trust?
Off to the bar!
[Irish music plays]
Did you know that on average, 12 newborns are
given to the wrong parents daily.
I keep thinking that maybe I'm one of those 12
and my real parents are gonna one day come and find me.
It's been over 40 years and I'm still waiting.
Life is just one big cruel joke, isn't it?
Go away., you fairy fuck.
There's no fairies out here. It's just Willie.
Bloody hey, there's no fairies.
Just fucking gay Willies!
Anyway, did a bird happen to shite on you out there?
No, not that I'm aware of.
It's too bad.
It's good luck. It's Irish tradition.
Ah, I had a fat chick one time
get excited that I was gonna bang her and she shit herself.
Does that count?
No, it has to be a bird, by the way...
Who's the black cunt you brought with you?
Black cunt?
My shadow?
No, he's not gonna stir any shit now, is he?
I don't know. Hey, just don't let your
fat white teenage daughter
out right now at the moment, if you know what I mean.
Hey, I do know what you mean.
Why don't ya throw yourself some
fucking food stamps down the alleyway and come on in.
So let me ask you a question.
Have you ever jerked off or played with yourself
to a picture of your mom when she's a wee lass?
No. Just George's mom.
Ah, George's mom. I remember that. Had a pussy...
It smelled like warm piss...
- And potato salad. - It did.
Ay! Anyway. Anyway, so have you ever
wrestled another man and gotten a hard cock,
maybe a boner of sorts?
Well, there was this one time I was having a dream.
- I was like a Viking. - Aye.
Lots of raping and pillaging in those days.
- Pillaging. - But I kind of got
confused in the moment.
- I understand that. - Body on body action and
I didn't know what was going on.
It's kind of like there was
guys dressed in dresses like you wear.
Ay! You got a problem with my kilt?
I didn't say I have a problem with it.
I'm just saying...
when you're wearing a dress, it was distracting.
You should see what's under these kilts.
And I kind of got a little bit of a chub, chub.
I don't blame you there.
But yellow man... Yellow's really not my...
Is that a dead hooker?
Aye, I don't know that.
Oh, maybe. She hasn't moved in a few hours.
Why, would you like to stick your fucking
nut butter in her love muffin?
Or maybe a guy like you would like
to rub his nose in the wrinkles of her fucking stinks there?
I could warm her up in the oven for you,
but it'll fucking cost you.
Nah, I'm good on the oven bag, Tucker.
Hey, I'm just here for a bag of the good stuff.
Aye, the good stuff.
Well, why don't you try your luck there, you short fuck.
How about we go for the bottle of the whiskey?
Are you in for a competition?
- I suppose so. - Aye.
You fucking cunt.
How's that golden shower? Killing you about your bitch?
Oh yeah.
Name the bet, potato-head.
All right, if I win Willie, you pay double
for the bag of the good stuff.
Plus you have to bury my dead hooker.
I knew she was a hooker.
That'll be the second time I have to bury her.
Fine.
But if I win, I get a bag of the good stuff for free.
And I get pictures of your mom.
But when she was younger and less fat,
she had those nice fucking tits.
And you don't have that?
Christ, I thought you did.
That's fine. But if you're fucking
head hits the table I win.
Deal. But if your ball's hit the ground, I win.
What the Irishman doesn't know
is that over the years, I subjected myself to
excessive amounts of alcohol,
which has led to the development of
chronic diseases and other
serious problems,
including high blood pressure, heart disease,
strokes, liver disease,
and digestive problems.
Basically,
I'm already dead.
Let's go.
Aye.
But with fucking Willie here, doesn't know?
I've got no liver.
I'm fucking Irish
and Scottish.
It's a fucking pararuckery of like what they would call Irish
stupid Paris.
That, and I was born with an Irish titty in the mouth.
Christ, you can't stop a fucking Irish car bomb.
So let the fucking games begin. Fucking cunt.
[light melodic music]
I win, you lose, you fuckin' potato head
fuckin' Irishman mother fucker.
That means I get a free round with the dead hooker.
I don't even think I'm going to bother even burying her.
Fuck yeah!
We are the greatest Bigfoot hunters
in the state of Pennsylvania.
Well, at least that's what my wife says.
She's an expert in everything.
She thinks she knows everything. Anyway...
Some of the things might look terrible.
We finally track the beast to an open field.
My wife says she's mated with Bigfoot
on several occasions and says his
penis is pink like a dog's red rocket.
Your wife needs therapy
and medication for the lack of attention she got as a child.
My wife is very well known in the Bigfoot community.
She's asked to speak at many events
due to her in depth knowledge of the great Bigfoot.
Your wife needs to wear a helmet.
Seriously. Anyway,
we've tracked the beast to an open field.
Got a spotlight on him. Trying to take some perfect,
non-blurry photos.
Just about to when these two assholes, George and Willie,
- ran into the shot. - Completely nude.
No clothes on. Unlike my wife,
who I wish would keep her clothes on and stop talking.
Then George and Willie got the bright idea.
They were going to do the helicopter with their man meats.
It scared the Bigfoot off.
He ran off, pink pecker, flopping in the wind.
So we never got our photos, nor did we become rich,
famous, or get our own Bigfoot TV show.
We can only hope that
George and Willie both get syphilis and die.
Syphillis?
Leonardo da Vinci was the one who invented multitasking.
He could draw with one hand and
write with the other at the same time.
Hence, mul... ti-tasking.
Now, if only I could apply that method whilst masturbating.
George!
Lisa!
Oh my God, how are you?
I'm good, I'm good. How are you?
You know, living.
How is the family?
How are the kids?
The kids are good. Growing bigger and bigger every day.
I'm glad to see they haven't sucked you dry.
Oh, shut up, George.
Come on, sit down. Have a drink with me.
I really shouldn't, George.
Come on, just one.
It'll piss him off and that's going to make my day.
Come on. I won't take no for an answer.
One. Quick one.
Lisa felt like that favorite pair of shoes you have.
They always seemed to fit perfectly.
It was great to see her after a fucked up day.
This was a game her and I used to play when we came to the bar.
Basically, we drank until our brains went numb and
tried to come up with the most fucked up statements.
She usually came up with the best ones, but
I just loved debating with her.
Just sitting here and looking into those eyes
brought back some great memories.
It actually made my heart warm and made me feel fuzzy inside.
Or that warm and fuzzy feeling could be
that I just pissed myself. It's hard to say.
The only things I can think of that are truly
discriminatory are things like the
United Negro College Fund. I mean, you try having something
called the United Honky College Fund.
See how that works out.
24 hour news
and reality TV?
All fake.
Pro wrestling?
Real as fuck.
Okay, that's it.
I am officially tapping out and that means you win.
God, I love you.
George, I got the old man's Jeep...
You... you wanna...
go find a back road at that sweet spot?
Yeah, yeah I do.
Wait, wait, wait. Does this mean we're fucking?
- If you hurry up and let's go. - Okay.
Let's get out of here.
[film projector running]
[uptempo polka music]
Did you know that a pig can orgasm for up to 30 minutes?
No shit.
That's really all I've got for ya.
But hey,
I got to hook up with an old ex.
Still got it.
So I guess the only thing left to do is
chase that sweet California dream.
Okay, keep it cool.
You're holding... not one word.
George, is that you?
Oh, hey Suzie. How are you doing?
I'm okay, you know.
Hey, do you got a dollar?
Unfortunately not. I'm broke as a joke. I'm looking for a job.
Yeah, me too.
I just lost mine. I can't make it there on time.
Hey, you holding?
Sorry, I just got out of rehab, but I'm clean as a whistle.
Rehab? I should go.
I'm kind of homeless right now.
- Homeless? - Yeah, I lost my job.
My kid's taken away.
But hey, uh...
you got anything? I'm really itching, y'know?
No, I'm sorry. Uh...
I have found the light and I'm once again straight.
Well, do you want to fuck me? Get your dick sucked?
Ass licked? Anything?
I just need a few bucks.
I'd be lying if I didn't say
I was curious about what the going rate is.
Whatever you got, man.
10 bucks? 20 bucks? Whatever you got.
Inflation.
Yeah, times are tough.
Well, if you find anything, will you let me know?
I'm living down under the railroad bridge.
- Yeah, I can do that. - Great.
- Hey, Suzie. - Yeah, George?
Take care. Take care of yourself.
Yeah, just trying to survive this shithole.
It's sad.
She was the homecoming queen.
She was top five in our graduating class.
She was Ms. Popular.
But...
once you get that devil in your veins,
it's pretty much game over.
I mean, she's got a dozen kids and
at least a dozen abortions on top of that.
Years later,
we would find her at the end of her rope
underneath that very same bridge.
There's always so many questions and
never any answers.
So,
with that said, I think it's time for me
to have my own out of body experience.
[somber music]
- Did you score? - I did, I did.
I almost had to shoot some people,
but I did score. What about you?
- Did you score? - I did score.
But I almost had to bury a dead hooker.
Shall we?
To the almighty drunk gods! Yeah!
[slow-paced music]
[music continues]
Whew! That was wild.
Crocodiles and alligators are surprisingly fast on land.
Although they're rapid,
they aren't very agile.
So if you ever find yourself being chased by one,
just run in a zigzag line to lose it.
You can also use this
on fat girls who are drunk and
want to rape you late at night.
Remember, zigzag.
I found Jesus!
Oh, that's great, George.
So you're like, born again?
Hey, you should go pray to some rattlesnakes.
They'll help you find Jesus.
No, what I mean is, I found Jesus.
So you went to Jerusalem and dug him up.
It's going to piss off some people, George.
- Just saying. - No, what I mean is,
I found Jesus,
tied him up, and put him in the basement.
How much of that shit did you take?
A lot. I'm probably still tripping.
Well, there you have it, George.
You're still tripping. No worries.
You'll calm down and everything will be fine.
Are you sure? Because I don't think so.
I looked outside. I saw him hitchhiking.
So I went outside and tasered him.
You tasered our Lord and Savior?
I think I did.
I thought that if I walked out there and tasered him,
I would get three wishes.
Like a genie.
Yeah, something like that.
Can you do me a favor and just go down there and
give him a look see? I'm really freaking out.
Shit, yeah.
I want some wishes, too.
I'm going to wish for a big pizza,
some chalupas, all the banana cream pudding I can eat,
and a few hookers for both of us
that don't charge.
Fuck yeah! Let's do this, George!
After I finish this first.
And then we're going to get right on it.
Well, I decided to keep him here.
You know, for safekeeping.
What is that, George?
I pray to God it's nothing.
Well, I want my wishes.
Whoa, man. Those lights are bright.
Where'd you go last night?
We were tripping balls and then
shit got weird with the duct tape.
Oh my God!
You... you kidnapped Jesus Christ!
Shit! I didn't mean to!
- Jesus! - I was fucked up, Willie!
Jesus Christ, it's really you!
You dudes got any beer or weed?
Whichever comes first.
- Well get him a beer, George. - Okay
You take care of this tape you got me in?
Yeah, will do.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
You can't undo the tape yet, Willie.
He's just going to go to the cops. No offense.
Then we've got to kill him.
No, we can't kill him either.
He'll just come back in three days.
Wait. I know what we can do.
Beer. Somebody beer me.
Peasants.
Now before I untape you, Big J,
can we get some information off of you?
Oh, you want to know the secrets of the universe?
No, actually. We were just hoping you'd drink the beer
and forget this ever happened.
Shut up, George. Yeah.
Tell us what the winning lottery numbers
are going to be for the week.
Man, my dad won't even tell me the winning lottery numbers.
But I can tell you a few things that will blow your mind,
but I don't drink alone.
What do you say, George?
Yeah, fine.
Yeah!
[rock music plays]
Now, my sons, listen to my wisdom
and escape with me into the liquid of the gods.
[rock song continues]
Fuck, you guys are a good time.
Hey, we should get some hookers up in here, Big J.
What do you think of that, huh?
I got a better idea.
Woo!
I got this shit from Escobar himself.
It's killer shit.
I totally agree, J.
This is hands down the best shit I've ever had.
I'm going to end up back in rehab for this,
but I'm okay with that.
Oh, yeah.
Fuck, this is a good time.
You guys know what we need to do?
Get free hookers.
Nah, road trip.
Let's get fucked up and see where the road takes us.
Oh, we are so fucking screwed.
Come on, let's go, George.
Besides,
I don't think we've got anything better to do around here.
Come on.
All right, I guess. If Jesus says it's okay,
- Jesus... Christ. - Road trip.
Yeah, that's the Holy Spirit.
This is great.
I love getting fucked up and blacking out for days
and not knowing where I've been.
Yeah, that's a pretty common theme with us.
Jesus, what should we do first?
We need to get some road money.
Why don't you guys go hot wire that car?
I'll be right back.
Do you know how to hot wire a car?
[gunshots]
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Willie, think of something quick.
Yeah, this shit is crazy.
I don't know if this is really happening
or if I'm just fucked up.
Well...
I mean, he is Jesus.
Hey...
we need to get some more coke off him
before we decide anything.
Ooh, that did not go smoothly.
Bit of a mess in there.
Hey, I thought I told you guys to hot wire that car.
Yeah, we don't know how to do that.
Say, J, why don't you just
go in the house and get their keys?
Keys, hmmm.
That's a good idea.
Yeah, that would work a lot better for us.
Either of you guys need a blender?
I saw one of those top of the line, as seen on TV
blenders in there.
No? No?
Alright, you're missing out.
Fuck, Willie, think of something.
What are we going to do?
I can't even feel my face.
It's...
not even there.
Well, I think we should probably make a break for it.
I'm thinking he'd find us.
I could be wrong.
But he's probably like a higher power radar detector.
Boop, boop.
[gunshots]
Ooh, glad I went back in there. There was one still kicking.
Squirrely bastard.
Got the keys right here.
Jesus, we can't go with you.
Stupid. Damn it, Jesus. Stupid.
I always do this when I meet new people.
Nah, it's all good.
Look, you're a great guy, J.
It's just George and I,
we need some time to let the relationship grow.
Father, damn it.
You guys are missing a golden opportunity here.
What can I say? We're very lazy people.
But hey, could you leave us a
little bit of that Papo Escobar
sugar before you go?
Oh, so I give you drugs and you guys are my friends,
but I want you to go on a road trip with me
and suddenly you're not down.
I'm only good enough when you need me,
just like when you pray.
No, it's not like that.
We're just scared to death at the moment.
Too much at once?
Yeah, you really came on too hard.
Oh, all right.
You guys are cool dudes. Are we still homies?
Shit, yeah.
Like a nail and hammer.
Well, considering the mess I made,
I better get going. But tell you what,
let's get together in December for my birthday.
It'll be the bomb.
Game plan.
Hey, and don't forget to bring your drugs.
It's not a party without them.
December it is.
Awesome. Just awesome.
All right. Well, if you guys change your minds...
[thunderclap]
- Fuuuck! - Oh my God!
That's not good!
Should we...
We grab his drugs? Yes!
No, I mean should we run?
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, we should get out of here.
Hey, you didn't see us here, and for the record,
we're not Jewish.
Hey, I'm Kurt, and this is Neighborhood Watch.
And turn out to be terrible.
Do you know George and Willie, I take it?
Oh, I know those two.
You were telling me...
after they leave the bar, what do they do?
Shit.
Shit in my yard.
Okay, I got No Trespassing signs up.
I got No Pooping signs up.
The guys must be illiterate or dumb as shit,
because that's what they're doing.
Every night after the bar, they choose my...
yard.
It's the only one on the street with a yard.
I don't know if they're feral or what,
but they just pick my yard to do their business.
The one night I come home, the one of them,
I don't know which one,
he's sitting here, squatting,
asked me for a newspaper while he's going.
I'm in my flashlight, looking,
and there he is. And he asks me for a newspaper.
I know what's been said,
but I don't hope George and Willie die of syphilis.
I hope they die of Crohn's disease.
This is Neighborhood Watch. I'm here watching
for crime. I'm not here to watch
them take a shit.
I've got some sort of sore down there.
Oh, well, don't worry about it. It's probably just a
pimple or something.
The same thing happened to me, and it cleared up all by itself.
[light orchestral music]
Still no job? I'm done with you.
What?
I'm fired?
You need a job to be fired from!
Mr. Stevens, I assure you.
Shut up.
Shut up your crack smoking face.
Mr. Stevens, I've been going to every interview
you've set up for me.
Oh, you have?
But you haven't been hired from one of them.
Not one of them!
A monkey can do these jobs. Why can't you be a monkey?
I don't know?
Maybe I'm more like a sloth.
Shut up, George. Just shut up.
Let's talk about the hooker you were with
behind the building on your last interview.
I thought it was part of the interview process!
Woo! Did you eat paint chips as a kid?
I ate something bad that day.
Out, out of my office. Out now!
Mr. Stevens, please... can't you find me a job?
Even if it's only just a few hours
a month.
Out, you're free to go fuck every hooker you want.
Now get out.
You need a hooker!
Get out crack head,
and take your herpes with you.
I hope you die of syphilis!
[light, fun music]
Most lipstick contains fish scales.
Did you know that?
It's been a long time since I've had
fish scales all over my body.
Of course, there was that one lady of the night who offered
her services in exchange for a cheeseburger.
We all love our bad habits.
[sighs]
Well...
I just got my soul crushed, so...
might as well get my heart crushed too.
George. What are you
doing here?
I just needed to see you again.
George.
Don't show up here again.
Stop showing up at my house.
I'm done. Do you hear me? Don't do it again.
Go to the bar. Not here.
Why? Is your husband home?
No, but the neighbors are, and they like to to talk.
So get outta here.
I just got fired from my job.
You know, the job placement center.
That doesn't surprise me... now, goodbye.
Wait, what about the other night?
The other night?
Nothing happened, George, do you hear me?
Nothing happened.
I just need somebody to talk to, Lisa.
Go to the bar, George... you got a lot of friends there.
You know, for a moment I thought...
You thought what? That I would leave my husband
and my kids and go run off with you
on some drug-fueled adventure?
Hmm. I'm sorry. I don't think so.
It was a mistake.
Yeah.
Yeah, I understand.
Hey...
do you think you and I would...
still be together if I wasn't such a fuck up?
I don't know George. Things change.
Yeah.
Love doesn't always come with diamonds.
Yeah, George.
Love comes with accountability.
Well...
I guess there really is no point in living in the past.
No, George...
I guess not.
Take care.
You take care too.
[sad guitar music]
[tape rewind noise]
Lisa wasn't always a cold, heartless, gold digger.
Sometimes she wore a sweater.
I know I'm the one who her heart
cries out for, but she'd rather repress it.
She'd rather live a life
that's completely...
what's the word, bereft of honesty.
Still...
I can't say I wouldn't kick myself to the curb
for some financial stability, and...
most women hate playing relationship Russian roulette.
No, no, no. You know what?
Fuck him, fuck his money and fuck
her for lying to everybody, especially herself.
I hope she gets crushed under that 500 pound fucking
fat welder husband of hers.
And has to scratch and eat her way to safety.
All in all, only one concept to be mastered.
Shit runs downhill.
[music intensifies]
Mom should have swallowed you.
Get up, you piece of shit.
Why? What for? So you can just
stand there and tell me what a loser I am.
Fuck you, George. Are you on the dope again?
No. Now leave me alone.
I fucking warned you about what I would do.
If I found you were on the dope again!
I've heard this story before. Just walk out and
leave me alone. Jared.
You think I wanna be down here?
No. The old lady told me I should.
Why? So you could visit me? Is it Christmas already?
No, because mom passed away this morning!
What?
Yeah,
she died in her sleep.
Just get your head outta your ass.
[sad guitar music]
Fuck, I hate you!
[sad melodic song]
This was something I wasn't prepared for.
A mountain of shit had been dropped on me.
I could feel it coming and...
there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I felt horrible inside knowing that I hadn't seen my mother
since I got out of rehab.
I didn't even make an attempt to go see her.
The last time I saw her
was at home and I was packing to leave for rehab.
She packed some extra junk food in my suitcase and
she told me to get well
and now she's gone
and I never had a chance to say goodbye to her.
I couldn't even pull myself to go to the funeral.
So...
I did what I do best.
I got wasted.
[sad music continues]
After a three day drug binge,
I thought I would wake up with the worst headache ever.
Actually, I wasn't sure if I'd wake up at all.
But I did wake up, and I woke up with peace of mind.
Was it from waking up on a park bench? I'm not sure.
I do know that the sun and the fresh air was something
I hadn't felt in years, but then it hit me.
There was a reason I was waking up here.
I am not a religious person, but...
for some reason, everything made sense for once.
I can't really explain it.
It's like a light bulb was turned on for the first time in
my brain and I knew what I had to do.
What I realized in that moment
is that everything can change if we
have a sense of motivation to make the change.
You see,
we can do anything we want in this world.
We can either be pissed off and angry at the world
while the parade passes us by, or...
we can take part in it and show the world what we're made of.
We can all be motivated.
The question is, what motivates us?
For some of us it's money,
power, or drugs,
but what I've come to learn is that a gun
pointed at someone's balls is one hell of a motivation tool.
I know there are times in our lives when we forget about
the path that we chose and wander down unfamiliar paths.
But for some reason,
all those roads just lead back in the same direction,
so why bother with the detour?
And the next day,
each of those souls that you motivated
will wake up with a new look on their face.
And others will find a reason to stay on
that righteous path,
because once again, it has meaning.
They'll find a new direction to walk and
stop with self destructive habits.
And I'll feel better knowing that I can say,
fuck you for firing me, fuck you for not being a friend,
and fuck you for not loving me anymore.
But saying "fuck you" doesn't change anything,
it's just a waste of breath.
What I did was more than just words.
It was an action that will act like a never ending wave,
and for once I can look back and say I did something
good with myself.
I changed things for the better,
or at least I tried.
[soft guitar music fades]
[soft upbeat music]
I scared some people today.
Oh yeah?
Felt good.
Did you dress up scary?
No, with a gun.
Just look at us, George.
Cursed from birth, it seems.
I mean, can you honestly think
of a single moment in your life
where either one of us was on top?
I always picked last
in this game of life.
I never brought any trophies home.
We've never been winners at anything, George.
It's as if the...
the universe or something
singled us out as a couple punching bags, y'know?
I mean, I was thinking the other day,
every good memory we have,
did you know we were either high or drunk?
And couldn't we really trust that those were even good times?
I've got nothing to show for my life, George.
Nothing.
Look, Willie...
we've been friends for a long time, right?
Sometimes all you need is each other.
I mean, yeah, this town sucks, right?
But we have each other.
I mean, that's what friends do, right? They...
they keep each other afloat.
It is a joy...
to be hidden...
but a disaster not to be found.
I read that on a T-shirt once,
but I couldn't stop thinking about it
for days.
It was like it was on a loop in my head,
it haunted me...
Y'know, we've stayed
hidden here, George,
and though it's been real fun
being left alone from the
the shit of the outside world,
no one's ever gonna find out who we are,
and I think...
what bothers me...
the most...
is I don't think...
I don't think I ever will either.
[soft contemplative music]
[door kicked in]
I knew it, you fucking cocksucker!
I just couldn't do it, Jared.
You couldn't pull yourself away from your fucking dope,
not to even see your mother be buried.
I don't remember her that way.
You're just a pile of shit!
I told you I'd put a bullet in your fucking brain
if I found out you were on the dope again.
Oh, Jared, what are you gonna do?
Are you really gonna shoot your brother?
I don't have a fucking brother.
Just a goddamn problem for 15 years.
Just a fucking mess that won't be cleaned up.
Jared,
I found my peace.
So if you're gonna shoot, shoot.
[gunshot]
Jared? Jared?
Otis, you fucking shot him! You fucking shot him!
Come on, Jared.
He was pointing a gun at you, George.
And he broke my door.
Okay, Willie?
Willie, I need help. Get over here!
Willie?
That was my favorite door.
[gunshots]
[gun drops on floor]
Willie?
Come on, Willie. Come on!
Okay, here we go. Come on, Willie. Whatever you do,
don't go towards the light! Please.
I gotta get you out of here. Come on.
No, that's not gonna work.
No, that's really not gonna work.
Okay, come on. We gotta go.
Oh, Jesus, you're heavier than you look.
Come on, Willie.
[unintelligle grunting]
All right, buddy, we're almost there.
We're almost there, just a little bit more!
Okay, this is good.
Oh... don't go towards the light!
Stay with me, Willie. God damn it.
Okay Willie, here we go.
Are you ready?
All right.
Come on, buddy.
Just stay with me.
All right, Willie. Ready?
Yeah, come on.
What else do I need?
I got it.
Okay. Light... no!
I'm coming!
Okay...
If this doesn't work...
I don't know what will.
[light airy music]
And I'm still waiting on that ride home.
Even though I know it's never coming.
My family's dead, and...
I'm gonna have to learn to live with that.
My best friend, dead.
Taken by the drug gods way too soon.
So...
what did I learn from this trip being on the outside? Well...
I learned that no matter what I do,
I'll never be able to change this
fucked up, mean, crazy world that's just full of shit,
shit, and more shit.
Maybe one day I'll be able to look back and
say that I changed things for the better.
That something I did mattered.
Who knows?
I mean, if you're watching this, then I have to
have made some sort of progress, right?
And...
I guess even if you want to wipe your ass with this movie,
at least I can say, I was glad to be of service.
Yeah.
I'm glad to be of service.
[upbeat guitar strumming]
[record scratch, rewind noise]
[Willie breathes heavily]
Oh, shit! George!
I just saw a light at the end of a long tunnel!
Fuck, though.
It was too goddamn far to walk. Never mind.
Whew! Oh, man. There's gotta be something, huh?
Oh, pudding!
I knew I had a couple of these left.
I love bad pudding.
Mmmmm.
Shit. It's not banana cream.
But it is tapioca.
I consider that a win.
There's toast.
George's always thinking about me.
Fuck. It's not done.
I'll plug this thing in.
[electricty buzzes]
[uptempo guitar music]
[uptempo rock music]
[uptempo music ends]
[cow moos]