Yes!
Believe it or not, anyone can be famous,
and you don't really need God-given ability to do it,
but that doesn't mean you go out there
and shoot up a crowded movie theater.
That's just wrong, but if you're motivated,
you can get yourself on a reality TV show,
or jump cars on a motorcycle
or... or marry a movie star
or simply find a wife
willing to have 20 kids.
As for myself, my best shot at the limelight
is to buddy up to the President.
I just need the attention of the media first.
So you jumped the Camp David fence
to be on the 11:00 news?
Yeah, it's pretty inventive, huh?
Hey, where's all the TV cameras?
- TV cameras? - And reporters.
I thought I'd be doing a bunch of interviews by now.
- I gotta get out of here. - There's no interviews,
Mr. Marcus.
There's no reporters or cameras either.
It's just us.
Just us?
Why don't you have a seat?
I don't get it.
This is supposed to be big news.
People... people jump the White House fence all the time.
I don't think Camp David has the same impact.
I understand the President
- wasn't even there at the time. - Really?
Mr. Marcus, can you identify the precise point
when your preoccupation to be famous
- initially manifested? - Excuse me?
When did you first try to become famous?
First time?
That's easy.
I have some really bad news for you, Thomas.
Your dog was hit by a car.
He died.
I'm so, so, sorry.
No, Rex? Not my Rex.
No, Rex. Please.
Did you teach him that voice?
He can...
- That's it? - Yeah, more than enough.
How do you expect a young boy to cry without proper motivation?
Blah, blah, blah, next!
Take a seat.
Tyler, welcome.
Tyler.
No, Rex.
Not my Rex.
No...
Rex, please!
You can stop. That was...
That was amazing. I actually felt something.
- Oh, my God. - You're fantastic, Tyler.
And that's how it's done.
Yeah, thank you.
Exit that way.
Always difficult when fantasy and reality intersect.
Yeah.
After I squashed my mom's dreams,
it was my dad's turn.
Get a little arc in there.
- Now, pay attention. - Okay.
Just keep going. Keep going.
On: Your dad give up after that?
Not yet.
He was determined to get my face
on a box of Wheaties.
If I was going to make a name for myself,
I was going to have to do it on my own.
Go! Go! Go! Go, go!
Winner!
You know, Mr. Marcus.
If someone has aspirations to be famous,
it's usually a prerequisite that the individual have
some sort of exceptional talent or skill.
- Wouldn't you agree? - Can I borrow your cell phone?
There must be a pic of me at Camp David going viral by now.
Based on your failed attempts,
don't you think it's time
you focused on more attainable goals?
This is not fair.
What about the couple that crashed the white house dinner?
They were all over the news,
and they weren't even charged with a crime,
so why am I here?
Mr. Marcus, only .001% of us will ever truly be famous.
With those odds, I think it's in your best interest
if you embraced a normal lifestyle
like 99.99% of the population.
Can I have a newspaper?
There's gotta be an article about me.
Listen. I went through your file.
You never finished college.
You drifted from job to job,
no significant other, no close friends.
I understand you don't even talk to your parents.
We're wasting time.
I need to strike while the iron is hot.
Maybe you don't understand this concept. All right?
Can I please get the number of the publicist
that I left in my coat pocket?
- Can you do that for me? - Mr. Marcus,
if you don't overcome this unrealistic obsession, a well-adjusted...
What do you want from me? Huh?
What do you want? You want me to say that I'll be an average nobody?
- Is that what you want? - Just calm down...
An average nobody with an average life
doing average things?
Well, it's not an option!
I cannot be part of the 99.99%.
I have to be famous! Don't you understand?
- That's what I'm meant to be. - Mr. Marcus, you need to calm yourself down.
So if it's not gonna happen, why don't we just end it?
Why don't we just end it, okay?
You don't even know what the fuck I'm going through.
- Let it out for me. - I don't know why, but I still gotta try.
Why don't I just end it?
- Guards! - You wanna see me end it?
- Guards! - I'll do it.
I'll do it.
Get your hands off me!
You can't...
Stop pushing around.
Everybody stop pushing me around.
You're doing it wrong.
Excuse me?
I said, "you're doing it wrong."
You need a sharp vertical cut
instead of a puncture motion.
Hey, look... what are you doing?
I'm helping you.
Jeez, you could show a little gratitude.
- Gratitude? - Uh, yeah.
Your way was going to be quite messy,
not to mention pretty painful.
You don't want to go out like that, do you?
How do you know?
I've had a lot of practice.
Three failed attempts, to be exact.
What are you guys doing?
I'm Hannah Renner, by the way.
Uh, Bob.
You're a palindrome?
Talk about Karma.
My name's actu...
Actually Robert.
Looks like we got a little suicide watch, huh?
Let me guess. You fucked a goat at a petting zoo.
No?
Maybe you took a piss in a bathroom sink
at a 5-star restaurant?
Oh.
You're one of those conventional types.
Yeah, you probably looked in the mirror
and decided that chugging a whole bottle of sleeping pills
was the best option, right?
I... I just wanna be famous.
Famous?
Well, you're in good company,
real good company.
Shake hands... ha ha ha...
With popular TV personality and world renowned psychologist,
Dr. Phil.
You have OCD?
PTSD?
OCPD?
- ADHD? - That's enough!
He'll give you a headache with all of his issues.
What's... what's your problem?
Who, me?
Well, they say that I got anger management issues,
but I don't see it.
Then again, there was this one time
where I told this doctor that I would shank his face
and eat his brains while he was still alive.
He has IED, intermittent explosive disorder.
- I do not. - Do, too.
- I do not! - Do, too, Larry.
- Stay the fuck away from me! - Phil!
Control yourself.
These fuckers are always trying to mess with my head.
You know?
Patient uses food and anger
to cope with his avoidance
if his insecurity issues.
You think I'm like everyone else around here.
Barks at the moon.
Well, I'm not, you high-and-mighty asshole.
Besides, you're the one wearing the anti-suicide smock, not me.
Listen, kid.
I'm gonna make this easy.
You're average.
You're like vanilla in an ice cream shop.
The only chances you have of becoming famous
is running through a field during the Super Bowl,
running to the 50-yard line,
and putting gasoline all over yourself
and lighting your fucking ass on fire.
In the news, world renowned urologist
Ahmed Abin Habidl
recently relocated from the middle east
to a research facility in upstate New York
to work on a urological innovation
known as the bladder project.
- He'll be in this facility for the next... - There he goes again.
Who's he?
He's the craziest dude in the institution.
He's got this whole euro-flash thing.
He thinks he's Jason Bourne or Ethan Hunt.
Doesn't talk to anybody. Just mumbles about conspiracies
and Bin Laden and some cockamamie bullshit.
Bin Laden?
Isn't he already dead?
Exactly.
I know where he is.
You know where who is?
Bin Laden.
Bin Laden?
Hey, numb nuts,
Bin Laden bought it years ago.
Not really, old chap.
That's why they sent me here.
Who the fuck are they?
I believe he's having a recurrent schizophrenic delusional thing
- whereby he thinks... - You shut the hell up!
I said, "who are they?"
- The CIA. - CIA? You?
Oh, you're really off the reservation.
No wonder you're involuntary.
Oh, my dear pussy, I'm only involuntary
because they set me up.
Who the fuck are you calling pussy?
- Fucking call me pussy? - I wouldn't do that.
Get off of me. Get off me.
- Let's go. - Get your fucking hands off me!
Let's go!
Get off me! Come on, fucker. Come on!
Let's go. Let's go.
He's very excitable.
Mister?
Uh... mister?
Smith.
Uh, Smith.
Do you really know where Bin Laden is?
I most certainly do, Felix.
And if you can get me out of here,
I'll make sure you end up having tea
on the telly with Barbara Walters.
Something you want to tell us?
Have it your way.
Time for a new batch of delusions.
You are aware that hypnotic drugs
have proven rather ineffectual
in conventional interrogation.
I suggest the use of pliers
for the extraction of molars and fingernails.
In due time, Mr. Smith.
In due time.
Ready to talk about jackpot now?
No?
Still time to change your mind.
You'll have to do better than that, my good man.
Last chance.
Get on with it.
How's that feel, Mr. Smith?
Shocking. Positively shocking.
Shall I continue?
Please! But don't stop now, old boy.
My sinuses have almost cleared.
Had enough?
I can't do this anymore.
Tell your supervisor I'm done.
It's not in my job description.
Untie him.
- He in yet? - He's just finishing up.
You can go in.
So, how did it go?
Not good, I'm afraid.
God damn it.
I knew that shrink psychoanalytical mumbo - jumbo wouldn’t work.
Smith's the best, sir.
Oh, second best.
Of course, sir. My apologies.
I promise you this.
Once Smith talks
or we find jackpot ourselves,
Smith's done.
No two ways about it. He's done.
Uh... Mr. Smith?
Do you remember our Bin Laden conversation?
Jackpot.
Excuse me?
Intelligence circles commonly refer
to the target as jackpot.
Oh, okay.
Uh, jackpot.
Do you really know where he...
What are you doing?
Preparation is half the victory.
I don't mean to be pushy,
but...
Come on.
Jackpot's dead.
Just because our leaders say it's so
doesn't make it so.
But how do you... How do you know?
I'm the only one privy to the doctor.
Doctor? What doctor?
If you had a serious ailment,
and the only one that could assist you lived far away,
would you move?
Yeah, sure.
Congratulations, old boy.
You know more than my old colleague did.
A man of means must make his health a priority.
Smith.
Medication time.
Get me out of here, Felix. You won't regret it.
Hey.
You scared me.
Whatcha doing?
Looking for a way out.
Why? You just got here.
I don't belong here.
Finally got the opportunity to do something really important
and be somebody.
Why are you so hyped to be somebody?
You wouldn't understand.
If I were famous,
like really famous...
People would seek me out.
I'd have value.
People would finally notice me.
If being famous were so great,
then how come almost every celebrity
has tried suicide?
Where'd you hear that? Why would a celebrity
try to kill themselves? They've already made it.
Trust me. Almost everybody in Hollywood
has thought about suicide at one point or another.
You know what's worse than being bullied or hated?
Being anally raped by Santa Claus.
No, being ignored.
Out there, I can actually become something.
It's a total waste of my time being in here.
- There's no benefit. - Are you serious?
Uh, this place is awesome.
You get three square meals a day.
You get unlimited time
to watch TV and color.
You get to kick back
with cool people who share the same problems as you.
They give you these cool, comfy clothes to wear.
Plus, most importantly,
you get the undivided attention of medical professionals
whose sole purpose is to make you feel good.
Now, what is wrong with that?
Hey, you wanna escape with me?
Dude, did anything I say just sink in?
Oh, I'm sorry.
I don't mean to be rude, but I gotta get going.
What?
You got a little...
R0 like you to join our escape
so we can capture Bin Laden.
What?
I need a guy
with strength and size
in case things get physical.
I've already recruited Dr. Phil.
There's an escape planning session
in my room in one hour.
Okay?
You actually took Smith seriously?
You're so gullible, Marcus.
Smith isn't a secret agent,
and he doesn't know anything about Bin Laden.
- How do you know? - Dude, you're so caught up
on being on the cover of "time" magazine
that you can't see straight.
Believing in Smith is like believing I'm a ballet dancer.
All right, fine. If you don't want fame and freedom,
then that's your loss. I guess there's so much to look forward to being...
Stuck in this place.
That ice cream's for everybody.
Selfish.
It's my ice cream.
It's my fucking ice cream.
My fucking ice cream.
After some detailed planning,
this is what we've come up with.
Okay? All right? And this is the way
- it's gonna work... - Hey, am I late?
I thought you weren't interested.
I'm not.
But the fact that I get a chance to see you wackazoids
create a clusterfuck, I wouldn't miss that.
Okay.
- Let's get started. - Okay.
Smith?
Yes.
Gentlemen...
To unlock our rooms after lights out,
we'll need the good doctor here
to lure the attendant to his room
so he may lift his keys.
How do you suggest I do that?
Perhaps a mock seizure
or threaten to kill yourself.
Just threaten?
Hey, Einstein,
every nook and cranny of this place
has security cameras.
And there are guards everywhere.
You won't be able to leave this floor,
let alone the fricking dorm.
Well, we can avoid the cameras
by...
It's okay.
You know what? Don't... don't worry.
We have a plan. We just... We just have to hurry.
It's good to see you taking such an interest
in something, Bob.
Thanks, Phil.
This is not gonna work.
Not with that attitude.
Now, that felt good.
That's the way it is, huh?
Just because of some little white lie.
Have it your way.
But remember...
I'm in charge now.
So you better start flapping your gums about jackpot.
Because if you don't,
I'm gonna make sure
you shit bricks in hell.
Shh.
Why aren't you wearing any pants, Phil?
So that my genitals might breathe as I slumber.
Hey, open up my fucking door.
Oh, that's a relief.
I thought he was uncircumcised.
We can use the air ducts to get past the cameras.
That's your plan?
Oh, shit.
Someone's gonna have a tight fit in here.
Hey.
Guys...
Smith's not in his room.
What?
Shit!
You guys okay?
We gotta find Smith.
We can't escape without him.
Well, he's probably in the observation room.
I'll show you the way.
Oh, jee... God.
Why do they treat him this way?
Good question.
In spite of Smith's constant hallucinatory state,
I have yet to see him once fling poo since he's been here.
Fling poo?
Well, the technical term is scatolia.
It's the creative art of throwing and smearing one's feces
as a form of protest.
That's nasty.
Pure hatred in solitary confinement
is enough to break even the hardest patient.
We're all just one bad day away from eating each other's feces.
That's my theory, anyway.
Well, my Willy's chilly.
I'm off to get some pants, gentlemen.
Smith. Smith!
Smith!
You okay?
Ah, Felix. Aren't you rather late
for a turn-down service?
Seems I'm having a slight malfunction
with the rotating blade on my wristwatch
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...
Come on. Come on. Come on.
You're a good friend, Felix.
A good friend indeed.
Who the hell chose the pecking order?
What's the problem now, Larry?
Besides having Dr. Phil's vertical smile in my face,
I'm just dandy.
I'm terribly sorry.
My claustrophobia's producing excess wind
- in my tunnel. - Somebody shoot me.
Here comes another one.
Shh.
Slow it down.
Oh, shit.
- Wait, wait, wait. - What? What?
There might be an alarm.
Beautiful. Now what do we do?
Go, go, go.
Oh, Jesus.
- Fuck you, Montgomery! - Shh, shh.
Stop!
Oh, come on.
How did you guys get out of your dorms?
Well, we... we...
We got a little turned around and...
You all better get back inside before somebody gets hurt.
There's no need for physical violence.
Just put the kettle on, Felix.
You're right, old chap.
Somebody did get hurt.
It's that way.
- Which way? - Over there.
Other way. That way. Let's go.
Sorry.
Smith!
There!
Smith, where do we go next?
Smith. Smith!
Dude, you're pumping a dry well with this guy.
Smith, we're counting on you.
So pull yourself together
and tell us where we're going.
142 Kensington Way.
That-a boy.
What's the zip code?
They got out.
Good.
Follow them.
An AMC gremlin?
Where are we going next?
I can't divulge information at present.
You can't... what do you mean, you can't divulge?
We're in the fucking blind here.
We'll need weapons.
Weapons.
That's it?
For now.
We're on a mission to hunt
one of the most wanted men in the world,
and that's all you tell us?
Well, patient exhibits paranoid personality disorder,
characterized by pervasive distrust of others.
We're all on board, Smith.
Let's... let's get it done.
Well, definitely not for hoplophobics.
What's a... what's a hoplophobic?
One who has an irrational fear of firearms.
Thompson, my good man.
I'll need you to equip me
with a Subfusil Sterling L2A1
for this mission.
Subfusil Sterling.
Ain't nobody be askin' about that gun
unless they're British Army
or some sort of English double...
agent.
We'll need four 9mm Heckler & Koch
MP5 submachine guns,
each equipped with a Pelican M6 Light Front Sight Mount
and a thousand rounds of 9mm Parabellum ammo.
Also an M79, 44mm grenade launcher
with Sub-caliber inserts and 12 Gauge ammo.
And, finally, four steel monolithic body armor plates
along with four night optics thermal imaging binocular goggles.
And some camouflage...
The smock's really uncomfortable.
And more food. We need more food, for Christ sake.
You fellas from the circus or something?
Can we get some help, please?
What you intend on doing with all this weaponry?
We're going to kill...
Osama Bin Laden.
You can't just blurt it out like that, you asshole.
He's gonna think we're crazy.
Well?
Uh, I can sell you most of what you want now,
but you're gonna have to pass a background check.
B... background check?
Yeah.
And, looking at you fellas...
It'll be a much needed background check.
All right?
Let's get it over with.
Any of you fellas ever been dishonorably discharged from the military
or renounce your U.S. citizenship?
Ever been convicted of a crime
punishable by more than one year in prison?
More than one year?
Ever been convicted of any drug crimes?
Does that include using?
Ever been declared legally incompetent
or mentally incapacitated?
Well, that was fun. Let's get the fuck out of here.
Wait.
We need weapons.
Sorry, I can't help you fellas.
- You need more targets? - Yeah.
Whoa now. Whoa.
Can you help us now?
Move real slow.
Real slow.
You fellas don't wanna wind up in a whole heap of trouble now, do you?
No, no, we just... we don't need
a background check. That's all.
That... that should cover everything.
All right.
Fellas, I found the grenade launcher.
Oh...
Looks like a bad case of erectile dysfunction.
They won't get far.
That was not smart. That was not smart at all.
What the fuck were you doing back there?
Smith said we needed guns to capture Bin Laden.
Capture Bin Laden? You're still thinking about Bin Laden?
I'm worried about getting through the day.
Oh, why are you worried?
Dude, are you high?
We just broke out of an institution
and committed armed robbery in the same day.
You don't think anybody was gonna raise a brow?
It's not like we're hardened lifers escaping from prison.
Guys, look, I paid for the stuff at the gun store.
- We're fine. - You're delusional.
At least I have an excuse why I'm at Montgomery, but you...
You're genuinely crazy.
Yeah, there's no gray area with you.
You are certified the real deal.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit!
Looks like it's time for a sporting game of leapfrog.
Don't wave at the cop!
Oh, shit. Oh, shit, he's getting closer.
Well, look at that.
He's gaining on us!
Oh, God!
We got a cop... lots...
This guy's on our ass like Liberace.
Smith, do something secret-agent like to shake this guy.
Very good, pussy.
Time to test out Thompson's modifications
on our defense mechanisms.
Nothing.
That usually does the trick.
Do something!
Well, this switch activates
the ejector passenger seat for all passengers.
- So should we give it a go? - No!
What are we doing?
Don't get your knickers in a twist, Felix.
- Let's go. - Go where?
Doodletown, New York.
- Doodletown? - That's correct, pussy.
- Doodletown. - Oh, yeah, that's a relief.
I thought we were gonna fight armed soldiers deep in the heart of Pakistan.
Thank goodness the most wanted man in the world
is hiding behind the counter of some Doodletown convenience mart
making slushies and week-old hotdogs.
Let's go.
Time to commandeer a new mode of transportation.
- Need to inspect the guns. - You don't need to inspect the guns.
Let me inspect my gun. I need to inspect the guns.
I'm the one who should be holding the guns.
I'm the most well adjusted out of all of us.
Let me see the gun so I can make sure that it fires well.
Did you have to bring the grenade launcher with you?
It's a little hard to keep inconspicuous...
We needed the grenade launcher, okay?
Do you even know where Doodletown is?
Well, I don't know where Doodletown...
Mr. Flintstone, can I have your autograph?
Uh...
I, uh, look, kid. I think you got me confused with someone else, all right?
Don't think so.
You look just like the guy on my vitamin bottle.
Get lost, kid.
Uh, patient lashes out at child.
Indicates borderline tendencies for pedophobia.
I'm not a pedophile, you asshole!
I said pedophobia. It means "innate fear of children."
Oh, okay, but watch out with those erroneous labels.
Montgomery has a big file on me already.
Well, you do have HSP,
and that means "highly sensitive person."
Don't you tell...
How appropriate.
A bunch of mental patients in a short bus.
Won't be hard to spot.
We got 'em.
Gentlemen, we'll need a suitable place for training.
Training for what?
For the guns?
You can't tango without a few lessons.
I got something. Put 381 Macy into your GPS.
Yeah, work on that. Work on that one.
And then try a hook. Try a hook shot.
I want you to try it right handed and then left handed.
There you go. There you go.
Nice. Nice. Good. Good work.
Well, there he is.
Making any progress getting your name in lights?
What did you, uh...
- Join the army or something? - It's funny you ask.
I'm actually right in the middle of something really important.
It's gonna make me a household name.
Oh, great. What is it?
Well, I can't say,
but, believe me, it's huge.
Oh, well, that's... That's wonderful.
Anyway, I was wondering if me and a few friends of mine
could use the shooting range for some target practice.
- Oh... - Oh.
Your father took that down
a long time ago.
- You did? - Justin,
go over the song on page nine,
and after that, we are going to rehearse your lines.
Uh, reverse layup.
Why don't you do the reverse layup?
Try a few more of those, okay?
Who's he?
That's little Justin from... remember? The boy from down the street.
I thought he moved away years ago.
He was on "the young and the restless" last month,
and now we are preparing for a Disney audition.
We? He's not even a relative.
He's the neighborhood boy. We all raised him.
I mean-.
Don't you know the expression "It takes a village"?
What are you guys doing?
What do you mean?
I've been busting my butt for years
trying to make you proud of me,
and instead of supporting me,
it looks like you've started
some sort of future-famous training school
for wayward strangers.
They are not wayward strangers.
They are family.
You guys gave up on me, didn't you?
- Oh... - No.
We... we just realized you weren't cut out for stardom.
So once you labeled me...
A failure,
you just went out and found a couple of replacements.
No, we didn't want to put any more pressure on you.
Pressure? Oh, all right. So the first time you see me after all these years,
and say, "are you having any progress getting your name in lights",
that's not putting any pressure on me.
What your father meant to say was...
Time to go, Felix.
Oh, don't leave like this, Bob. Bernie, say something.
Hi, Mr. Marcus. Thanks for the sneakers. I really love them.
- Oh, good fit? - Oh, fit like a glove.
They actually gave me, like, five inches on my vertical.
- Wanna see? - Sure.
Really nice.
I gotta go.
That's good.
I guess Thomas Wolfe was right, huh?
We can never go home again.
I guess.
Buck up, Marcus.
You can't let no dipshit stand in your way.
You want it, go get it.
This is great. This is great.
I told you that Smith didn't know what the hell he was doing.
Time for a little hike, mates.
Smile.
Smith. Hey.
Smith, so how's our chances looking?
Felix, we're as good as being dealt a straight flush
in five-card poker.
Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?
- Agoraphobia. - Agoraphobia?
Agoraphobia, you asshole.
I have a fear of wide open spaces.
How are you going to walk with us
if you have a fear of wide open spaces?
There's nothing around us for miles.
Exactly.
Wow. You got a lot of problems.
Anger issues, eating disorder, and now you...
That's why I'm at Montgomery, you dickwad!
Uh... look, we got a problem.
He's got a fear of wide open spaces.
Agoraphobia?
No. No, no. No, no, no, Phil.
Phil, hey, hey, hey...
Hey.
Relax.
What?
N...
You still thinking about wide open spaces, my dear pussy?
Hey.
Wait! Smith, wait.
Stop walking.
You can't just go off by yourself.
We have a rendezvous in precisely two hours.
I can't wait for pussy.
So what ever happened to your credo "leave no man behind"?
Step aside. I've not time for rank amateurs.
Stop wasting time.
- Now, move your bloody arse. - "Bloody arse"?
Let me ask you a question. I'm curious.
Are you even American?
I am red, white, and blue all the way through, Felix.
I've dedicated my entire live
to this one defining moment.
Right here, right now.
Time to avenge 9/11.
Screw this!
Screw this.
Hey, where do you think you're going?
Larry! What is going on around here?
Now it's every man for himself?
I cannot handle another failure.
Failure?
What the hell do you know about failure?
Unlike you mental defectives,
I was normal.
I used to be a wall street broker.
I had a beautiful wife,
kids,
a house in the suburbs,
and just out of the blue,
I get laid off.
So, Larry, losing a job is not the end of the world.
No! It's your wife suddenly bailing out on you
because you can't give her the life that she's used Tc anymore.
It is her falsely accusing you of assault
because she trips over your foot on the way out.
It's the cops leading you out of your house
in handcuffs.
And your kids are frantic, crying,
"daddy. Daddy, daddy!"
- I didn't... - Take it from me, Marcus.
There comes a point in everyone's life
where you have got to take a hard look
and see the reality around you...
And take matters into your own hands.
W... whoa, Lare, Lare.
After all, if you wanna do something right,
you gotta do it yourself.
No! No, lare!
No, Larry.
Larry, give me the gun.
Pass me the gun. Get a hold of yourself.
Give me the gun. I'm gonna kill you.
Give it to me! Give it to me!
No!
It's okay.
Gentlemen, a car will be traveling down that road for a house call.
Our objective is to stop the car,
apprehend the doctor and the nurse,
and terminate all others.
Terminate? You mean... You mean really kill?
Let's build a little roadblock.
Oh, this is sharp. Someone could get hurt.
Someone's coming.
Places.
Keep an eye on the doctor.
That's unfortunate.
What's wrong?
Didn't I tell you to keep an eye on the doctor?
We did. What, did you want us to stop him, too?
Put this on.
What for?
You're going to be his nurse.
Me?
You want to be famous,
don't you?
Besides, I'm the wrong gender and skin tone.
What, oh... excuse me, terrorist.
Well, what about me?
I have you covered.
Put this on.
"Human hair."
I'll take care of your complexion.
You'll need to hide this
on your person.
Hide it? Hide it where? I don't have any pockets.
Your bum makes a cozy place.
- You want me to put that thing Ln... - Uh-huh.
It's really big.
How do you suppose I...
Keep in mind, Felix,
one fart gets us all killed.
I'll take an exterior position.
Pussy, you stay here and stop the doctor
should you need to.
Stop? Stop how?
By any means necessary.
Whatever you do,
keep it quiet.
I... I fell asleep.
- Move. - What's this for?
Uh, okay.
Smith!
Go!
You just shot that guy.
Payback's a bitch, isn't it?
Nice shot, Felix.
We got him.
Fucking a, we got him!
We got him?
Dude, we got him.
I'm famous.
I'm finally famous.
You poor sack of shit,
you're famous.
We're all famous.
Yes!
Okay.
So...
What do we do now?
We killed him.
It's over.
I know, dipshit. What do we do now?
What do you mean, what do we do?
How do we get him out of here?
D... do we call the newspaper?
The FBI?
Do we have the number for the FBI?
Looks like a good time to tidy up a bit.
Let's go.
Shit.
Wait, where...
wait, where you going? We can't just leave him up there.
Have you even thought of an exit strategy?
Uh...
You don't have an exit strategy?
Smith, can I use your phone?
Ah.
Smith,
the phone works better
when it's out of your pocket.
I know, pussy.
Unfortunately,
my phone needs a charge.
We just killed the most wanted man on the earth.
And now we can't share it with anybody
because we don't have any battery power?
Uh, I... I guess
we could wrap him up in some sheets
and then carry him outside
and... and maybe try and get a taxi.
You're an asshole.
You think that we can just waltz out of here
with that fucker and hail a taxi?
You don't deserve to be famous!
- Larry! - You can stop now!
What?
Who are you?
Well done, Smith.
You done your country proud.
Well, the hunters have become the hunted.
Burn these words through your brain.
Shut the fuck u...
Sorry, Bob.
You're back.
W... where have you been?
Well, we... we got out.
I know. Wha... what happened?
Nothing.
But, you know what, I don't think I want to be a household name anymore.
Well, that's progress.
A good friend of mine...
He once said,
"there comes a time where you have to take a good, hard look"
at the reality around you,
and everyone's always telling me that I'm average,
but I think I'm okay with it.
So do you want to be famous?
Nobody's ever asked me that before.
I am.
I just think I want to be happy.
Marcus.
Group therapy.
Patient is contemplating eating his feelings.
What's up, bro?
Hey.
Well, boys,
how does it feel to be back in your natural habitat?
Hey, I know you.
You're... you're agent mustang,
the President's right-hand man.
Guys, do you know who this is? This is the... this is the man
who singlehandedly took down Osama...
Shit.
Looks like a light bulb just went off.
Well, I believe Mr. Marcus' recent epiphany
is deeply rooted in overcoming his family psychological...
You must be the illustrious Dr. Phil, I presume.
Why... why, yes,
my reputation seems to precede me.
If I may...
Please allow me to offer you
a small token of my gratitude.
For your advanced intellect
and unique insight.
Why, I'd be honored.
Whoa, whoa, whoa...
Oh, come on.
You can't fight pure genius.
I knew that when Smith got out,
he would lead you right to jackpot.
It was as easy as taking candy from a baby.
You won't get away with this shit.
Oh, but I already have.
When you boys took Bin Laden down,
the legacy of our President
remained intact.
And as for yours truly,
well...
I get to remain unbelievably famous.
But the fact is
that we killed Bin Laden,
and nothing's ever going to change that.
Oh, true.
But it really doesn't matter, does it?
You see, what your deranged friend over there never understood
is that I'm the guy in charge.
You know what that means?
It means you're a fucking prick.
No.
It means that you all better get
real comfortable in here
because I'm gonna make sure you spend
the rest of your worthless lives
drugged up in this asylum.
You can't do this! We...
My, my...
Such pent-up anger.
Guess I'll have to prescribe a little electroshock therapy
for you and your friends.
As for Smith...
I'm gonna work up a special cocktail
to bring him down
permanently.
What goes around comes around.
Oh, keep thinking that, Mr. Marcus.
Keep thinking.
Who knows?
Maybe your boys'll get lucky again,
and Smith'll help you find
Elvis.
Elv... the... the King?
I know where he is.
You know where who is?
Elvis Presley.