All language subtitles for Southland.Tales.2006.Cannes.Cut.1080p.BluRay.x265.HEVC.EAC3-SARTRE_[eng]

This is the way the world ends.

This is the way the world ends.

This is the way the world ends.

No, not in there.

We're not masters at the camera yet.

Yep.

The camera, yeah.

- Is there tea in there?
- Yes, there is.

Oh, OK. Hi.

You came to the right place.

You're still the barbecue king?

I'm the head cook
and chief bottle washer, yep.

- Cartwheel, cartwheel.
- Fine!

Whoo-hoo!

Oh, I didn't know it had water in it.

After the nuclear attacks in Texas,

things got real complicated.

These are the sordid tales
of what happened next.

How it all came crashing down.

The war machine was running out of gas

and there was no alternative.

Alternative fuel, that is.

Until one day

when a mysterious German corporation
arrived in the Southland

with a kick-ass new formula.

A cure for our sickness.

They built this great big machine
out in the ocean

that would generate a hydroelectric
energy field called Fluid Karma,

a wireless network of electric power
that would run machines by remote.

Machines that would never
have to be refueled.

Treer Products is proud to present

the wizard Baron Von Westphalen
and his executive staff.

Have you built the world's
first perpetual motion machine?

The ocean
is a perpetual motion machine.

Fluid Karma is a simulation

of the principles
you see working right here.

As long as the waves continue to crash,
Fluid Karma will exist.

The whole world
wanted access to Fluid Karma,

and the Pentagon... well,
they were the highest bidder.

We are working with the US military
to overhaul their entire fleet.

The tidal generator
would create an energy field

that reached all the way
to the Arizona border.

They've synthesized a narcotic.

The narcotic is injected into the neck.

These are human receivers.

They're conducting experiments
on soldiers.

This is a known fact
and no one will release the information.

He held a great deal
of resentment for Hideo Takehashi,

who controlled the patent
for the hybrid gasoline engine.

Baron had negotiated the sale
of Fluid Karma on his own terms.

Takehashi was willing
to relinquish one of his fingers

in exchange for the license.

You bastard!

You said finger, not entire hand.

Clearly, your attorneys
didn't read the whole contract.

It stipulates a six-inch margin of error
in the cutting radius.

Contract said finger only.

Serpentine.

Have Mr. Takehashi's hand
bronzed and mounted

on a cheap wooden plaque.

"The Revelation of Jesus Christ,
which God gave unto him,

"to shew unto his servants things
which must shortly come to pass,

"and he sent and signified it by his angel
unto his servant John.

"Who bare record of the word of God,
and of the testimony of Jesus Christ,

"and of all things that he saw.

"Blessed is he that readeth, and they
that hear the words of this prophecy,

"and keep those things which are written
therein, for the time is at hand."

My name is Pilot Abilene

and I'm a veteran of the war in Iraq.

Grid 90401.

Santa Monica Municipal Pier.

Planet Telex, Sniper Station 1.

Mariasol restaurant. Pacific Park.

SurfView Cafė. Fire Arcade.

Bubba Gump Shrimp Company.

Rusty's Surf Ranch.

They say that the road not taken
concludes with a stairway to heaven.

The gates would not open
for three more days

and an actor named Boxer Santaros
was searching for the key.

He had returned
from his pilgrimage to the Nevada desert

with a case of amnesia.

Someone had gotten under his skin.

Her name was Krysta Kapowski,

and together
they had written a screenplay

that foretold the tale
of our destruction.

You almost wrecked my car.

Well?

Get in.

Stigmata.

We'll hear that fine new platter
by Nat King Cole,

"I'd Rather Have the Blues"

Later that day,

Krysta had a lunch meeting
with adult film director Cyndi Pinziki.

Well, in my first six movies
I was just Krysta, you know,

but then in order
to differentiate myself

from the 76 other Krystas
in the business,

I added the Now.

Wow.

Well, it's all about now, 2008,

not next week, not tomorrow.

If you wanna fuck me,
you can fuck me now.

Wow.

So is that the name
of your TV show, "Now"?

It's a topical discussion
chat reality show.

A pop album, jewelry, clothing
and perfume line, the energy drink.

This is a very ambitious business plan.

Thank you.

How much of your own money
are you putting into this?

All of it.

And why would you wanna
take a risk like that, Krysta?

Can you keep a secret?

Of course.

I'm fucking a very large
and important man.

Wow.

The search for Boxer Santaros

reached up into the highest levels
of national security.

Led by none other
than his mother-in-law,

Nana Mae Frost,

wife of Republican Senator Bobby Frost.

A former prom queen
and deputy director of the NSA.

Nana Mae Frost, please acknowledge.

Identification confirmed.
Welcome aboard, Ms. Frost.

Thank you.

Yeah, Nana makes me wear
these fucking things.

Do I look like a nerd?

No.

- What do you think, Brandt?
- No. Very handsome, sir.

- Very becoming.
- Thank you.

- Welcome to Treer Plaza...
- Yes.

...Tower One.

We know that Boxer
crossed the border into California

five days ago.

There hasn't been a single fingerprint
found in the system since then.

We know someone must be hiding him.

What the hell was he doing in Nevada?

We think he was kidnapped at a charity
scavenger hunt down at the beach.

Somebody stole one of the prototype
SUVs from a warehouse in San Pedro.

Tracking devices tell us
that they crossed the border,

way out past Lake Mead.

Get over to the computer,
I can show you some of the stuff.

All right.

He's being brainwashed.

That Baron is not to be trusted.

What have we got there?

I'm sending you
the surveillance footage right now.

This footage was taken by his abductor,

someone with ties
to the neo-Marxist movement.

Is that Boxer?

Yes.

Is this the last time anybody saw him?

Mm-hmm, yes. Except for these.

- What's that? Smoke?
- Mm-hmm.

Somehow the vehicle caught on fire.
There was somebody in there, too.

- What?
- Mmm.

Baron has retrieved
the charred remains of the body.

- Have they identified the body yet?
- Not that I know of.

Grid 90291.

Across town in Venice Beach

the enemy engaged
in battle plans of their own.

Digits 4 Democracy was a neo-Marxist
fringe group that operated off grid.

They were the disciples
of German philosopher Karl Marx

and the last remaining vestiges
of the Democratic party.

Here we go, just in time.

This is Fortunio Balducci,
his new best friend.

Drug dealer, pimp, co-producer
on some new mystery project.

He's been crashing with Fortunio
in Manhattan Beach all week.

They hooked up
on some drug binge out in Vegas.

What if he sees the camera?

He won't! It's very well hidden.

Our little Krysta has promised me
a marriage killer.

Maybe even an election killer.

Oh, speak of the devil.

Here's Mr. 20-million-a-picture himself.

Boxer hasn't talked to his wife
in a week.

She's on the campaign trail.

Nobody knows where he's been,
much to the Senator's dismay

and his bitch wife, Nana Mae.

People in Washington
are already whispering.

Looks like the nervous breakdown
of the century.

Too bad it's an election year.

Nothing that an eight ball, a porn star
and a tattoo parlor can't handle.

Less than a block away,
two rogue neo-Marxists,

Zora Carmichaels and Walter Mung,
held a secret rendezvous

inside of an ice-cream truck.

You know, there'd be
a lot less violence in the world

if everyone just got
a little more cardio.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Hey, is that a bazooka?

That is a heat-seeking ground-to-air
rocket launcher from Syria.

You can't afford that.

What exactly do you want?

I need some 9mm blanks.

What else do you need
along with the blanks?

That's all. Just the blanks.

Fuck you.
Go to Walmart if you need blanks.

I've got a 500-dollar minimum here.

500-dollar minimum?
You didn't say that over the phone, Mung.

My reputation precedes me, Zola.

- It's Zora.
- Whatever.

Here is your UPU 9 and the blanks.

What the fuck is this?

What, you won't take a personal check?

No, I won't take a fucking check.

Get the fuck out of my ice-cream truck,
you Cro-Magnon bitch!

Say it again, mate. Say it again! Huh?

What was that, huh?

What was that? I can't hear you!

I can't hear you! What was that?
Say it again, you fuck!

Cock fucker.

Quantum teleportation.

Explain the transport
mechanism, that's all I'm asking.

Fluid Karma works via the principle
of quantum entanglement.

Um... particles thus entangled
will behave identically

regardless of the distance between them

or the forces that work above them.

With Kaboom Never Scrub,
all I have to do now is flush.

...so even finer thin hair
looks fuller.

The time is now.

I'm Krysta, Krysta Now,

and we are here live in Malibu
with my guests today,

Shoshana Cox, Sheena Gee
and Deena Storm.

Join us for an in-depth discussion

of the penetrating issues
facing society today.

Issues like abortion, terrorism, crime,

poverty, social reform,
quantum teleportation,

teen horniness, and war.

Now we all made decisions
in our youth to start doing porn,

I think it's time
that we turn the mirror on ourselves.

As we all know,
the ego reflection does not lie.

And once you get
on the Bang Bus, you never get off.

Totally.

You know what,
the Bang Bus should be banned.

It's totally unethical.
Even within the parameters of porn.

Do you like to get slapped
to the ground and fucked?

Too violent.

Violence and porn should not mix.
It gives porn a bad name.

You know what, I like to get fucked,
I like to get fucked hard.

- Yeah.
- Cheers.

OK? But you have
to draw the line somewhere.

I mean, violence is a big problem
in our society today,

and I will not support it.

That is the primary reason
why I won't do anal.

I didn't know that about you.

It makes me wanna give up anal.

- Mm-hmm.
- Anyone who knows anything of history

knows that great social changes
are impossible without feminine upheaval.

Our first issue today is terrorism.

Go ahead and make fun
of my prophecies all you want, Fortunio.

But deep down inside,
everyone wishes they were a porn star.

Really?

We're a bisexual nation
living in denial.

All because of a bunch of nerds.

A bunch of nerds who got off a boat
in the 15th century

and decided that sex
was something to be ashamed of.

All the pilgrims did was ruin
the American Indian orgy of freedom.

Asshole.

Have you been lying to me?

You have to trust me.

I'm here to protect you.

From who?

From the people out there
who wanna destroy you.

Boxer Santaros was caught
in the eye of the hurricane.

They called him Ronald Taverner,

and he was their pawn

in a dangerous game
of political extortion.

Ronald, they're just blanks,
sweetheart.

There's a delay in my reflection.

What'd you tell him?

That he hit his head in the desert
and he has amnesia.

Well, these things,
these things better look real.

Ronald?

Bing said they're gonna look real.

When Ronald fires,
he's gonna hit the squibs.

You just drugged and kidnapped
an UPU 2 officer.

OK, that's against the law, sweetheart.

Now, I need you to come out here
and do this thing.

You need to become a racist cop.

Come on, honey. Let's dry our tears
and face our fears.

Promise me you won't get hurt.

We promise.

The neo-Marxists had taken a hostage,

a hostage they would use to expose
the sins committed by USIDent.

He was to impersonate his twin brother,

but his heart was filled with despair.

What's the password?

Jericho Kane.

Officer Roland Taverner.

Of course you are. How you doing, man?

When did you get back from the desert?

Uh...

Don't exactly remember.

That's OK. That's OK, you're OK.

Come on, let's go upstairs.
Right over here.

This is an epic Los Angeles crime saga.

And you're researching your role?

You play a cop?
You wanna do ride along?

Yes, exactly.

But I'm also directing the film.
It takes place in the near future.

Right.

Scientists are saying the future
is going to be far more futuristic

- than they originally predicted.
- Mmm.

The basic concept is this:

I play an LAPD cop
who isn't who he seems.

He's a paranoid schizophrenic
who has a supernatural gift.

He sees things.

And he senses a change in the city.

Crime suddenly skyrockets
for no apparent reason.

The world is coming to an end.

And he's the only one
who can see the truth.

What's the truth?

My character, he realizes
that the apocalyptic crime rate

is because of global deceleration.

The rotation of the Earth
is slowing down

at a rate of point zero,
zero, zero, zero, zero, zero,

zero six miles per hour each day,

disrupting the chemical equilibrium
in the human brain,

causing very irrational
criminal behavior.

Mmm... sounds neat.

How does he stop
the global deceleration?

Oh, he can't stop it.

There is no stopping
what can't be stopped.

Only God... can stop it.

But "The New York Times" said,
"God is dead."

So in the end, I die

in a very tragic downtown shootout,

while whispering my theory
to Dr. Muriel Fox,

the oceanography disaster specialist.

Astrophysicist!

The oceanography disaster specialist...
sweetheart.

My character, his name...

...is Jericho Kane.

You're gonna have to wear
a bulletproof vest.

Roland, let me ask you
what goes through your head

when you sit behind the wheel,

cruising the streets,
digesting humanity?

Is it a process of elimination?

Each car that passes,

the person inside,
are they a mere suspect?

Or are we all innocents,
our chariots mere chess pieces

waiting to be thrown from the gridlock
and into the arms of the wolves?

Well, I'd say,
we act like concerned citizens.

We look at all the people,
all the cars.

We look for any unusual
or erratic behavior,

speed changes or lane changes
that seem unsafe.

Yeah. But don't you think
emotions come into play?

Judgment calls affected by whatever
mood you're in on that particular day.

Emotional responses
based on your past events.

Well, there is one thing.

I knew it.

I knew it. Tell me, be honest.

To be honest, we're just
looking out for the niggers.

Grid 90245. Vista del Mar.

- The niggers?
- Yeah.

They're everywhere.

- You're joking.
- No, I'm not joking.

I'm just fucking with you, man.

That's a funny joke.

Yes! He said "nigger".

Yeah, but I don't think
he said it with authority.

You know, I didn't believe him
as a racist cop.

Fascist maybe, but not racist.

So I'm fucking her last night.

Right before I come,
I puke all over her tits.

It happens.

No, I'm telling you.

Nobody, and I mean nobody,
rocks the cock like Krysta Now.

Nobody.

- Nobody.
- I got it.

Fucking nobody.

OK, listen to me.
Ask him about his wife.

So what does your wife think
about your new girlfriend?

- My wife?
- Yeah.

Is she cool with the fact that you have
a porn star girlfriend on the side?

- I'm not married.
- You're not?

No, I'm not.

I could've sworn that you were married
to the daughter of a Texas senator.

Senator Bobby Frost.

Yeah, well, I'm not.

I don't know what you're talking about
and I don't know who he is.

Furthermore,
I don't wanna talk about this.

Why are you asking me questions?
I just wanna talk about my movie.

OK. Let's talk about your film.

What's it really about?

Grid 90094. Playa del Rey.

It all hinges
on a top secret experiment.

A young couple comes home
from the hospital with their newborn baby.

A week goes by and the baby
still hasn't produced a bowel movement.

Maybe the baby's just constipated.

No, no, no.
This is a very special baby.

This baby processes energy differently.

Every time it farts,
it creates a small earthquake.

The prophecy of Jericho Kane

says that there will be one final
thermo-nuclear baby fart

which will then trigger the apocalypse.

I haven't had a bowel movement
in six days.

I haven't taken a piss either.

The Book of Revelations
tells the tale of two witnesses

who appear in Jerusalem to speak out
against the sins of mankind.

They are eventually killed
by those tormented by their prophecies.

The dude hasn't taken a shit in a week.

When has it ever been in the Bible
that you have to have a bowel movement?

- It's not written anywhere.
- It's not written in the Bible,

but some things is written,
like, in mother nature.

All of the animals shit.
Cows shit, llamas shit.

Did they like it? Did they want to?

If they had a voice would they...
would they rather not?

I think they feel better
after they take a shit.

I think they do like it.
My answer is yes.

My answer is no.

OK. We're never gonna agree on this.
We gotta stop arguing.

We have a lot of footage
we gotta shoot.

We gotta get out of here.
Where's Kenny?

Oh, look who decided to show up.

Dude, you are late.

You two don't understand.
I mean, the shit is literally hitting the fan.

Whatever, dude.

- Are we still routing out of USIDent?
- Yeah, of course, we never stopped.

Uh... Ken?

If he wakes up, give him an injection.
They're right there.

Kenny Chan, are you out there?

Yes, I'm in the compound right now.

The neo-Marxists
had recruited young Kenny Chan

to work as a mole inside of USIDent.

Hey, Starla. Can I get my coat back?

I appreciate it.

But it had been
his great misfortune to trust his colleague,

Starla Von Luft.

Senator Bobby Frost
arrived in the Southland,

as the campaign for the White House
finds itself in a race

to secure California.

Senator Frost plans to tour
the alternative fuel project

at Santa Monica Pier,

hoping to combat the intense criticism
from environmental groups

that he does not support
the alternative fuel movement.

Oh, Christ almighty.

Lookie here.

"Teen horniness is not a crime."
I never said it was.

Sir, I'm afraid it gets even worse.

Well, how the hell
can it get any worse?

We just received this image of Boxer

from an unidentified source
calling themselves Deep Throat 2.

They're transmitting from a scrambler.
We can't trace it.

Oh, my God.

Well, how about that?
Talk of the devil.

We got an incoming call
from Deep Throat 2.

Who are you? And what do you want?

This is Deep Throat 2.
The bitch is back.

And she's got Boxer Santaros on tape
in compromising positions.

Yeah. And how much
do you want for the tape?

One million dollars cash.

And a yes vote endorsement
by the Senator on Proposition 69.

Ms. Deep Throat,
this is Senator Bobby Frost.

I just saw your little movie.
I think it stinks.

Furthermore, we do not negotiate
with terrorists.

And if you think you're gonna get
any money out of us,

you got miles to go before you sleep,

and miles to go before you sleep.

Bitch.

All right. No need to panic.

We've always got phase two.

Wait. What is phase two?

You didn't tell me
there was a phase two.

Krysta, no offense to you
and your little career makeover plan,

but we are trying to impact
the outcome of an election.

Proposition 69.

To Krysta that number had one meaning,
and one meaning only.

To everyone else it was a proposition
on the ballot to restrict the powers

of the oppressive institution
known as USIDent.

The government had decided

that it could not properly
conduct a war on terror

unless cyberspace
was placed under federal regulation.

Welcome to USIDent.

USIDent was the brainchild
of the Republican party...

All information sanitized.

...a merger of all
law enforcement under federal control.

A colossal think tank formed
under the protection of the Patriot Act.

Two roads diverged in a wood and I...
I took the one less traveled by,

and that has made all the difference.

You know, Bobby and I are so proud
that we can unveil

the first USIDent facility
here in the Southland.

UPU 5.

Here at last.

Here to last.

I served as a Congressman,

I am now a US Senator
from the great state of Texas

and as I stand at this time before you

I am well on my way to becoming
Vice President of these United States.

We just have to remember
if we believe it, then they'll believe it.

Right. I'm over, baby,
and I know what I want.

Phase two was now in motion.

Dion and Dream were going to stage
their own demise,

a desperate attempt
to trigger a coup d'ėtat.

You know, I kinda feel like the opposite
of love isn't hate, it's ambivalence.

Yeah, and they're in a relationship

where they love and they hate each other
at the same time.

Exactly. Hit me again, baby.

Mmm...

You know, I still don't see
why facial prosthetics are necessary.

That wasn't part of the plan.

I've told you a million times, genius.

Dion and I are cultural icons.

We cannot afford to get recognized
by the camera.

Oh, that's right. See, I didn't realize
that your spoken word poetry

had captured the cultural Zeitgeist
of the nation, Dream.

Yeah, well, at least I'm not
a second-rate comedian, Zora.

Just because it's loud
doesn't mean it's funny.

You know, you might wanna watch
what you say, bitch.

Because sometimes a dream
can become a nightmare

on the turn of a dime.

Will you two just chill the fuck out?

Go get those squib detonators ready.

They're gonna be here
in, like, an hour.

Hey, Bing.

These off-road rollerblades
were a great idea.

Thanks, Zora.

Because I'm psychic, what do you care?

I don't wanna argue, sweetheart,
but this is an unusual deal.

I've had this recurring dream.

Tell me about it.

I wake up in this dungeon

and the walls are made of sand.

As I slowly make my way
through this... this maze,

approaching a light source
at the end...

...guess who's standing there
waiting for me?

Who?

You.

Do you ever feel
like there is a thousand people

locked inside of you?

Sometimes.

But it's your memory
that keeps them glued together,

keeps all those people from...

...fighting one another.

Right.

Maybe, in the end, that's all we have.

The memory gospel.

Would you excuse me for a second?

Yes.

Meet Dr. Inga Von Westphalen.

Charmed, I'm sure.

He is a fine specimen.

A divine specimen.

Whatever happens next
is through no fault of your own.

We have read your screenplay.

"The Power".

Give it to me.

How did you get a copy
of my screenplay?

Don't look so scared, Mr. Santaros.

The future... is just
like you imagined.

"This is the way the world ends.

"Not with a whimper."

"But with a bang."

Grid 90401.

Los Angeles international Airport.

Passenger Terminal 4. Public restroom.

Ew! You're doing bathroom detail?

LAX.

Dude, I'm worried about Starla.

She's been on bathroom detail
for 24 straight hours.

It's too much for one woman.

Starla had downloaded
a copy of Boxer's screenplay

from Krysta's website.

Her romantic obsession
led to a spiritual transformation.

She assumed the role of Dr. Muriel Fox,

and only she could help him
solve the eternal mystery.

Always the nerds.

And the Supreme Court
are a bunch of assholes that...

Who the fuck elected them, anyway?
Right?

I mean, they're a bunch
of supreme shitheads, right?

Oh, don't tell me what to do
with my body, you fuckstick. Right?

Only me and my director.

OK, OK, OK. I have a question
for the Supreme Court.

OK.

What happens when a woman
has sex on a flight

from London to Los Angeles

then takes the morning-after pill
while flying across the time zone?

I don't know.

Then it becomes
the morning-before pill.

You are a genius.

- Holy shit! That is brilliant.
- Hello! Can't answer to that.

- Yeah.
- Would it still work?

If we get there,

that's, like, one of our first issues
we are opening up with.

There is a fucking firewall
that someone is penetrating

and, you know, right now this place
is probably fucking wired.

Grid 90245.

No. No, I told you. I told you
I tried the goddamn password.

- You know what?
- ls there a camera around you?

Yes, I saw a camera.

- So you did hear me 13 minutes ago...
- Yes.

- ...about the firewall?
- Yes.

Get me a password that will work.

May you live in interesting times,
Kenny Chan.

- Kenny, get out of there.
- No. No.

But you can't be calling me
five times a day with this.

I'm at work!

Yeah, well...

Yeah, you know, cat throw-up
doesn't come out.

So what the hell else
you want me to do?

Fire at will.

Shit!

Come on!

Where is he?

I don't know!

Take him down.

He doesn't know who he is.

Promise me you'll find him.

- I promise.
- OK. Good.

There's a window right up there.
You've gotta go.

Nana Mae had stumbled
upon a hidden treasure.

A plastic bag
filled with severed thumbs,

rogue fingerprints
that the neo-Marxists would use

to manufacture electronic votes
in the November elections.

We have retrieved
more than a thousand thumbs.

A thousand illegal votes.

Take the thumbs and get out of there.

You've got five minutes to clean house.

We've confiscated
the schematics of USIDent headquarters.

There's a mole or multiple moles
inside USIDent.

We've been breached.

Fuck!

Grid 90291.

Dispatch
to Officer Taverner, do you copy?

Go ahead.

We have a possible domestic disturbance

at 14000 Nowita Place, do you copy?

Copy that.

Are we getting called in to some shit?

Looks like it.

Transform.

Breathe.

Dream.

- Did you fuck him?
- Yeah, I fucked him!

I fucked him real good.

- Did you like it?
- I fucking loved it.

You bitch!

I fucked your brother last night, too.

- I'll fuck him in front of you, too.
- You're a fucking slut.

- Don't point your finger at me!
- Bitch, I'll fucking kill you!

You kill me, I'll get the fucking cops
down here so fast.

How? How? How? You're gonna be dead.

I know people.

- They're so good at improv.
- Shh!

I fucking hate you!

- I fucking hate you!
- Don't marry a ho.

I wish we'd never got married!

You can't make one a housewife.
You can't! Fuck!

I don't wanna be a fucking housewife!
I like to suck dick!

That's what I like to do.

Grid 90291. Oakland Avenue.

Oh, look. A fellow officer of the law.

Howdy.

Hermosa Beach.

Little bit out of your jurisdiction.
Don't you think?

Well, there is no jurisdiction.
We're all UPU 2 now.

We have possible domestic disturbance

at 14000 Nowita Place, do you copy?

Boxer Santaros?

Good evening, Officer.
I'm researching my movie.

Fuck, you don't call me that!

I call you what you are.
I'll call you what I see.

- You're a fucking bitch!
- Fuck you!

Sounds like you could use
a little back-up.

I think I can handle this.

No.

I think you could use a little back-up.

You fucking bitch!

Fuck you.
Don't call me a fucking bitch.

That's what I called you
and I'll fucking kill you.

His fucking dick was 200 inches long.

- You can't get your dick hard.
- What?

- You can't fucking lay me.
- Right behind you, Officer.

- I can't get my dick hard?
- I've never seen so much fog.

- I get my dick hard.
- Tidal generator.

Fucking asshole!

You fucking slut!
That's what you are, a fucking slut.

You can't get your fucking dick hard.

You want me to go fuck your brother
on our wedding night.

I'll fucking knock
the shit out of you, bitch.

- You'll have to tie me up...
- I'll fucking kill you!

Fuck you! Don't fucking say that to me!

You're a fucking dick.
I can't even believe I married you!

What the fuck is wrong with you people?

Is that Ronald?

Check this out, pig!

Fascist dogma applied.
Revolution by surprise.

My vagina will not be denied a vote
in your subjective election.

That's an original poem. By Dream.

Oh, shit!

Dream over.

Flow my tears.

Now that was loud. And that was funny.

They weren't armed.

This is my deal now.

Now get the fuck outta here, Santaros.

You're not really here.

Who am I?

None of your business.

Now get the fuck outta here.

It was an inspired idea.

A staged double-murder,

committed by a racist cop,

captured on tape by a movie star
with political ties.

Go!

But no one could've anticipated
the untimely arrival

of Officer Bart Bookman.

Holy shit!

Fuck!

Hello.

Is this Jericho Kane?

Yes.

This is Dr. Muriel Fox.

I've uncovered the secret documents
about the tidal generator.

Your hypothesis was correct.

A corruption in the tidal drag
has caused a rift

in the space-time continuum.

Where is the breach?

Out in the desert. Near Lake Mead.

There's more, but...

...I cannot tell you here.

They're listening.

Call this number.

310-691-6496.

Shots fired.

Two down.

Fuck.

The 2008 Treer Saltair.

Coming soon.

Thank you.

It is a great honor
and a privilege to be here.

Thank you, Vaughn Smallhouse.

Did I just see
two cars pork each other?

- Indeed.
- That was disgusting.

Sir, I wouldn't worry.
That's the European version.

- You won't see it.
- Oh.

The tides have turned.

No longer must we burn
the spirits of the dead.

No longer must we treat
our precious ozone layer

like the bastard step-child
of the cosmos.

No longer can even
the most jaded neocon fat cat

deny the majesty...

...of our Mother Ocean.

Hello.

This is Jericho Kane.

What?

- This is Jericho Kane.
- Boxer?

Who... who's this?

Where... where are you?

I'm in Venice. Somewhere in Venice.

Boxer, Boxer. Go to the Baja Cantina.

It's at the mouth of the Venice Canal
on Washington Boulevard.

- Baja Cantina. It's a restaurant.
- Baja Cantina?

You stay right there.
I'm gonna send a car to get you.

- Where is he?
- He's in Venice.

Baja Cantina, mouth of the Venice Canal,
right on Washington Boulevard.

- Venice Beach, yeah.
- All right, so we got him.

The death of Dion and Dream

sent shockwaves
through the Venice underground.

The revolution was brewing.

Fuck.

It's an urgent problem
regarding Boxer Santaros.

What do you mean he's unavailable?
Unavailable my ass.

You tell Vaughn Smallhouse

he'd better not fuck
with Deep Throat 2.

How the fuck am I supposed
to blackmail some movie star

if I can't get his fucking
representation on the phone?

These Hollywood managers,
they think their shit don't smell.

Let me tell you something, Teri,
when the shit hits the fan,

it all smells the same.

Fuck, yeah, it does.

I don't know what it is you've done,

but you have to promise me
that he won't get hurt.

He's not the person you think he is.

The world is merely an object
to be manipulated by him.

Your Baron is drunk with power.

The tidal generator
is driving everyone mad

and this madness,
this religion of chaos

will not abate
until the end of all things.

Until the end of all things.

Yes.

Find her.
And bring her to me, right now.

Mr. Santaros.

Nice, yeah. You got the head
of the neo-Marxist underground,

and his bitch girlfriend.

Code name Dream.

Real name Veronica Mung.

Dion and Dream are dead.

They're not. They were just squibs.

Those weren't squibs.

Yes, they were.

We doubled up on the squibs, Roland.
Two each.

I thought my name was Ronald.

That's what I said, I said Ronald.
What? What's wrong with you?

I think you've been lying to me, Zora.

Yeah.

I think you've been lying to me
all along.

OK, now you're just
being paranoid, Ronald.

Listen, guys, er... I think I'm gonna
rollerblade on home now,

because I don't really
wanna be involved in this.

Anymore.

At all.

OK, Bing.

Go ahead.

Good luck.

You can keep the rollerblades, Zora.
Just consider them a gift.

You take care now.

Grid 91291...

Venice City Beach. Market Street.

Speedway.

Fall the fuck out!

For it will never be night again.

And they will not need
lamplight or sunlight.

Because the Lord God
will be shining on them.

They will reign forever and ever.

'Two Venice Beach residents
were found dead earlier today

in what appears to be a domestic dispute
that ended in tragedy.

Veronica Mung,
a celebrated performance artist,

who used the stage name Dream,

was allegedly shot by her husband

and fellow performance artist,
Dion Element.

Authorities believe that Element
then turned the gun on himself...

Smart.

The couple, well known as the John
and Yoko of the Venice underground,

had ties to the growing
neo-Marxist movement.

How safe is your car?

Which vehicles are the favorite targets
of renegade terrorist car bombs?

Excuse me, sir.

Do you have a cell phone I could use?

There are concerns
over the rise of the red tide.

What some beach-goers
think is dirty, rusty water

is actually a natural occurrence
of mass plankton...

Local call?

Local call.

The phenomenon began two weeks ago
as the Treer Tidal Generator

- began a series of system tests...
- Thanks.

...off the coast of Santa Monica.

Federal health officials say the red tide
is not dangerous to beach-goers.

But they recommend
a shower after swimming.

Interstate travel visas
are frozen, as the government issues

a Code Red terror alert
for the holiday weekend.

43 American troops
killed in Syria yesterday...

Come on, come on.

Officer Roland Taverner.

Planet Telex was the remote
operations facility for the tidal generator.

General Teena MacArthur
was the system test administrator.

Falcon reporting as ordered, ma'am.

- Station 7, Hermosa Beach.
- Yes, ma'am.

Still grappling with nightmares?

No, ma'am. They subsided, thank you.

Quite well.

USIDent leads the way, ma'am.

No disrespect intended, but I'm going
to opt out of saluting so much.

I find it's compromising
the integrity of my rotator cuff.

Yes, ma'am.

Planet Telex to Simon Theory,
do you copy?

General Simon Theory.

The bones from his severed legs
are decomposing somewhere in Kuwait.

Good morning, Teena.
What's today's forecast?

We're looking at 11 minutes of rain
just before midnight.

We got a lot of heat lightning too.

Well, yeah, that's
what Planet Telex is saying,

but has anyone thought to check in
with God on the subject?

Or maybe Zeus while we're at it?

How about the Easter Bunny

or any of those other antiquated
concepts of the eternal?

What's the game, dungeon master?

What's the game, what's the game,
what's the game?

This morning, Teena,
we're gonna play a little game

I like to call
"Serpentine Dream Theory".

So it begins.

Simon was in charge
of a top secret experiment

conducted by none other
than Baron Von Westphalen.

Here at home the Southland
continues to sizzle with record-breaking

triple-digit temperatures
in the valleys and the deserts.

Palmdale residents endured
temperatures as high as 124 degrees.

Revelations 12 and 13
tell the tale of a pregnant woman,

a dragon and two beasts.

Boxer Santaros has arrived.

They are the puppets of the Antichrist.

What? You've got amnesia?

You're my wife.

Oh, God, I can't...

I am just so glad you're alive.

Did you get the tape?

When do I get paid?

Soon enough, baby.

That shit better not get out.

Oh, it won't.

We're gonna get paid a lot of money.

To destroy it.

You wanna fuck?

Or watch a movie?

Let's watch a fucking movie.

Officer Bookman could not
understand why Zora did not love him.

He wanted to die.

Teena, Teena, Teena, good news.

The succubus has been apprehended
by a USIDent beholder.

They're taking her to the Vaughn
Smallhouse mansion as we speak.

We think it was a neo-Marxist group
that abducted you.

Cockroaches.

- Careful what you say, Senator.
- Bullshit.

Krysta Now has arrived.

Now.

Oh, I can't wait to meet her.

"Cockchuggers 2".

"Cockchuggin" ?

Who the fuck makes this shit, huh?

She made those a long time ago.

Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

So now she's moved on
to bigger and better things

like, er... fucking my husband?

Hey, hey.
She just cut her own pop album.

"Teen horniness is not a crime.

"Keep an open heart and an open mind."

She's developing her own reality show,

clothing line, jewelry, perfume

and not to mention an energy drink,
which I tried.

And her drink tastes
really, really good.

- Can I see the "Cockchuggers"?
- No!

No, can you not see
that she has completely set you up?

I mean, is there... is there, like,
video footage of the two of you together?

Yeah.

There is.

Lots of it.

OK. OK, so we have to give the bitch
whatever she wants.

She wants a million dollars
and a yes vote on Proposition 69.

- Are you Deep Throat 2?
- I'm not in that movie.

Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, we have
to give her whatever she wants

to get that DVD back.
It's just case closed.

This is extortion, sweetiekins.

A million dollars is a lot of money.

And we don't negotiate with terrorists.

"Cockchugging 2"!

If this gets out, the election is over.

It's an election year, Bob.
Everyone pays.

They're right, Bob. We should pay.

Deep Throat 2 can be silenced.

You just take it out
of his bank account.

Thank God I didn't sign a pre-nup.

And you know what?

Maybe now is the time to let you know
that I am pregnant with your child.

- Pregnant? She's pregnant?
- Yeah, you're gonna be a granddaddy.

Miss Krysta, did somebody
put you up to this?

Yeah.

He did.

He paid me to bring Boxer back
from the desert safe and in one piece.

- Baron, Baron?
- No. No.

- Is this true?
- Preposterous!

- I'll take you down, you little shit!
- No, listen to me. Would you stop it?

Hey, we're on the same team here.

Baron would not sabotage the campaign.

Who you're gonna trust, Bob?

A Nobel prize-winning scientist,
or a two-bit porn star?

I don't know, Dad.

Hm, I wouldn't trust him.
Because you know

he's been secretly funding
the neo-Marxist movement.

What? How dare you?

Those clowns know less about Karl Marx
than that Chihuahua.

No! You have been secretly
sabotaging this campaign

from the inside out.

You should be very careful
about pointing fingers, Madeline.

Because I happen to know
that you are pregnant with Brandt's baby!

And I have the blood tests to prove it.

- The car is waiting, mein Schatz.
- Not now, Mother.

Senator, we have to deal
with Deep Throat 2.

Brandt. You're mine.

I love you, Jericho Kane.

Hello.

- Jericho?
- Yeah.

Go to the base
of the Santa Monica Pier.

Through the looking glass,
you'll find what you are looking for.

We saw the shadows
of the morning light.

Shadows of the evening sun.

Until light and shadows were one.

Go!

Before it is too late.

Is this General Teena MacArthur?

What's the game, dungeon master?

This is the wizard
Baron Von Westphalen.

Remove the palatin body from Utopia 3.

Transfer is complete.
You've got your money.

Vaughn. Time.

The DVD exchange
will take place at the Sidewalk Cafė

in Venice Beach.

Now you've done it.
You just negotiated with a terrorist.

The floodgates are open.

Hold on, sweetheart.
This is a unique situation.

Madeline is involved in this, sweetheart.

Don't you sweetheart me,
you cockchugger!

Cockchugger?

Do you ever hear that expression,
"cockchugger"?

I'm hearing it all the time now.

Well, it's a colloquialism that I think

has become popular
amongst the young people.

OK.

Fuck yeah! Freedom! Whoo-hoo!

Yeah, yeah, yeah! Whoo-hoo!

- You fucking rock my world!
- Yeah!

General Simon Theory
had recruited a new soldier,

and it was my job to train him.

This guy, he ain't no joke.

So don't waste his fucking time,
you hear me?

Martin Kefauver has arrived.

Is it kind?

Fuck yeah, dawg. The shit is dope.

No shit, I know dope when I see it.

Tell me something.

- Are you a fucking dope?
- No, no.

- Huh?
- I'm cool.

I-I'm cool.

It's, er... it's medicinal.

Yo, dawg, I've seen all your movies.

You're great.

I know I'm great.
Tell me something I don't know.

My dad is your plastic surgeon.

Barry Kefauver's kid.

Yeah. Yeah!

Shit, man! How the hell are ya?

Hey, tell your dad I said hey.

I mean, tell him I'm gonna
give him a call.

- Oh, yeah, yeah.
- Yeah.

Fallujah.

Shit got fucked up. Anyways, hey.

Let's get down to business.

What is it?

Straight up Fluid Karma.

Me and my boys have been smuggling
this shit out of Utopia.

Look, green, you dream.

Blue, in an hour you feel new.

And you can forget about
Mellow Yellow and Agent Orange,

because, hey...
I'm giving you blood red.

Do you bleed?

I said, do you bleed?

Yeah, yeah, dawg.

Well, then you take the blood train.

You talk to God

without even...
without even seeing Him.

You hear His voice
and you see His disciples.

They appear like angels
under a sea of black umbrellas.

Angels can see through time.

Thanks, dawg.

Yo, my name is Pilot Abilene...

...and I used to be a star.

For billions of years,
the daily cycles of the ocean tides

have influenced patterns of hunting,
breeding and feeding behavior,

among the developing life forms
of our planet.

The city is filled
with excitement and anticipation

as the hangar doors are scheduled
to open at any moment,

giving Southland residents
their first glimpse

at the Treer MegaZeppelin.

The Jenny Von Westphalen
is 900 feet long,

and is lifted by turbine engines
that are activated by an energy field

that they call Fluid Karma.

Hi, Krysta.

Zora.

Come on in.

Penetrating.

It's just a suggestion.

So what do you want?

We're filming my reality webcast
before the party.

- Mmm.
- Can I score some drugs?

Sure you can, kitten.

Pandora's box
had been left exposed to prying eyes.

How did you get this?

Hey, over here.

What's with the get-up?

I've got the tape of me and Boxer
in my bag.

And what are you gonna do with it?

I'm thinking of going public with it.

I mean, fuck it, this could impact
the entire election.

There's a website
that everyone's talking about.

Someone's routing
outside of the USIDent

and the government cannot figure out
how to shut it out.

- What's it called?
- www.usideath.org.

How do I get this to the webmaster?

Oh, it's the neo-Marxists.

They've put drop boxes
all over the city.

Oh, you know what, I think
there's one in the Poop Deck.

OK, get Sheena and Deena.

We'll meet them at Hermosa
with the cameras. Let's do this.

Give me the gun.

I need your help.

I need you to help me find my brother.

OK.

Put on your seatbelt.

Well, Deep Throat 2, I presume?

It's the only copy?

I don't work in distribution.

Yes, that's the only copy.

No, please, I'd like to ask you
a few questions.

Go ahead, ask away.

How do you sleep at night?

Very well, thank you very much.

That is until I hear screams
from next door

because USIDent is raiding
my neighbor's house,

based on false information

provided by that Orwellian nightmare
your friend endorsed.

You ever lose someone close to you,
a loved one in a terrorist attack?

Because I have.

This may come as a shock
to you, Mr. Smallhouse,

but I lost two people in Abilene,

two of my four ex-husbands
on a fishing trip,

which they took every year
to bitch about me.

What do you do
with all that free money?

I'm gonna distribute
my documentary film.

Help some women in the Middle East
get some more civil liberties.

Do you know what those two words mean?

Civil liberties?

You ought to write them down.

Yeah, well, you know what?
You're gonna go down, Cyndi Pinziki.

That's right, I know your real name.

You know, I wasn't going to do this,
but I feel very generous today.

I'm gonna leave you
with a little present.

Mmm... wow.

I am, er... flattered. What is it?

- A taser gun to the balls.
- What?

You should know
that there's another tape out there.

A far more incriminating tape
featuring your pal Boxer Santaros,

and a double-murder.

And it's gonna cost you
a lot more than a million dollars

to get your hands on that one.

That is if you're lucky enough
to get back in the game before it's too late.

Now you tell the Senator
it's just too bad

he didn't reverse his position
on Prop 69

because when all is said and done,

nobody rocks the cock
like Cyndi Pinziki.

Eat shit, you fucker.

Whoa, yeah!

That little bitch, she stole it.

What?

Your friend Krysta, she stole the tape
for her stupid reality show.

She's gonna go primetime with it.

She probably thinks it's the footage
of her and... What?

Go eat a dick, Pinziki, eat a dick.

What? She just told me to eat a dick.

She's going completely fucking off.

Here at last, here to last.

Nana Mae Frost can kiss my white ass.

Welcome to the Southland, bitches.

You're all my bitches now.

I felt a premonition.

Danger was on the horizon.

Through the looking glass
you will find what you are searching for.

Yes, you will.

Shit, Boxer Santaros. Wha...?

Jericho Kane.

The information that I've uncovered
could get me killed,

but it was a risk
I was willing to take.

The fate of the world
depends on you, Jericho.

Yes.

You must board the MegaZeppelin.

The secret you are looking for is hidden
in the Baron's private chamber.

What is the secret?

There's a dead body
they've retrieved from the desert.

They found the body in your car.

Did I kill someone out there?

I don't know.

They're listening.

They're watching.

If you should succeed,
remember me, my love.

Remember my name.

I will.

I...

I want to suck your dick.

If you don't let me suck your dick,
I'm gonna kill myself.

Calm down, calm down. Calm down.

I don't wanna live in a world
where I can't have you.

Hold on. Wait, wait. Wait, wait, wait.

Target locked.

Take your pants off right now
or I'm gonna pull the trigger.

Take them off.

OK.

Jericho Kane... is gonna make
your wish come true,

and turn you into a new woman.

We can rent a room at Shutters.
It's my favorite place.

Target neutralized.

All right, we are trailing Zora Carmichaels
and Bart Bookman.

They are driving a silver pickup truck

looking to rendezvous
with Krysta Kapowski, aka Krysta Now,

blonde, 5' 4", 110 pounds.

Apparently, there is a tape
in her possession.

That is the target.

Grid 90294.

Planet Telex, Sniper Station 7.

The Strand. Beach Drive.

Pier Promenade. Beach House...

There's her car. Bitch.

All right, now it's on. Let's go.

God, this is so revolutionary, Krysta.
We have a Steadicam.

I know, but when I said Steadicam,
I didn't mean a My-First-Steadicam.

I want a real one, like a real movie.

I mean, TV show, but it's like a movie.

You know, these kind of new technologies
are totally changing culture now.

Yeah, especially now
that everything is digital.

That sausage makes me hungry.

Right down there, to the right,

behind the toilet, feed the hole.

Yeah, this is good.

Yeah. It's good. It's hot.

Sir! Sir, those people
are trying to kill me.

Whoa!

- Get the fuck out of my way.
- Do you know who we are?

- What's your hurry, bitch?
- Oh, don't you...

Anybody else wanna take a swing at me?

Krysta, it's the wrong tape,
you stupid whore.

Fascist pigs.

Oh, my God.

Why did I buy this car?

- Hello.
- Fortunio.

- Hey, hey.
- It's Boxer.

I'm at 26th Street, on The Strand, OK?

OK, bye.

Fortunio was
on the Baron's payroll all along.

His orders were to deliver the specimen
to Treer Plaza before sundown.

There's no turning back now.

You're a good friend.

Cyndi had obtained a ticket

to the launch
of the Jenny Von Westphalen.

Unfortunately, she did not have
a plus-one.

Darkness fell upon the city.

Neo-Marxist cells began to converge
upon downtown

in anticipation of the final battle.

The armor has the twin
inside the ice-cream truck.

Let me tell you something.

That ice-cream truck
is under a strong enchantment.

I'm getting the footage
from the Poop Deck as we speak.

OK.

So why do you wanna kill yourself?

I got drafted, dawg.

Gotta go to Iraq, maybe Syria.

Can't take that shit.

I'd rather put a bullet
in my head quick and painless.

Fallujah.

You were in Iraq?

Yo, how'd you get out, dawg?

That's none of your business.

Just try and cross the border
into Mexico.

That's where my brother and I
are headed.

Yo, I don't have a visa, dawg.

It doesn't matter if you're with us.

You said something
while you were asleep.

"We saw the shadows
of the morning light,

"the shadows of the evening sun...

"...until the shadows
and the light were one."

What does that mean?

Three days.

The final three days.

It all ends tonight.

What does this mean?

There is a path...
to end all suffering.

You should take it.

It's gonna be a hot time
in the city tonight.

That's right.

Job well done, Miss Now.

Is he gonna be OK?

Well, as they say, only time will tell.

Welcome to Club Jenny
on the Treer MegaZeppelin.

Please place your thumb on the scanner
for security purposes.

Farewell, one and only beloved.

I cannot write anymore,
or my head will be all in a whirl.

Adieu. Adieu, my sweetheart. Jenny.

Thank you.

Mr. Boxer Santaros has arrived.

Excellent.

You must board the MegaZeppelin.

The secret you are looking for
is hidden in the Baron's private chamber.

Pilot Abilene.

Pilot Abilene?

Do you bleed?

My face haunted his dreams.

It was an accident.

They called it friendly fire.

And Private Taverner
could not forgive himself.

- Yo, dawg, where are we headed?
- Somewhere downtown.

We have to go downtown.

He's in an ice-cream truck.

I can feel it.

Well, well, well, if it isn't the queen bitch
of Venice Beach.

Hey, Smallhouse.

How are the rocky mountain
oysters hanging?

Heard you had them cooked, medium well.

You know you're on my turf now, Pizniki.

- Pinziki.
- Yeah, whatever.

Your ass is mine.

Ooh, stop! You're getting me hot.

Loser.

Smut peddler.

I am an international
documentary filmmaker.

You're a sad, pathetic, sick woman

and in the end degenerates like you
get what they deserve.

A painful death or incarceration.

You tell your friend Nana Mae
the clock is ticking.

Tell her the queen has become a dragon

and will be vanquished by the sword
of our fair prince, Karl Marx.

OK, you know what?
When the MegaZeppelin redocks

we'll see what USIDent
has to say about that.

But in the meantime, enjoy the party.

How does it end?

A handshake.

I had a dream last night that you died.

Mr. Santaros.

Your presence is requested
in the Marx suite.

Alone.

I'm not going to die.

Have you discovered the primer, Simon?

I'm not interested
in the ice cream truck.

I am interested in the primer.

- Huh?
- Have you found it?

On page 106 of "The Power",

Jericho Kane discovers a hidden weapon,

a gift from a mysterious stranger.

Welcome, Boxer Santaros.

Very soon now
shall I be with you again,

bringing the reward
to be given to every man

according to what he deserves.

Mr. Santaros.
Welcome to the Marx suite.

And Simon says,
"Lower your side arm, please."

Are you just deaf or willfully stupid?

I told you to lower
that fucking side arm.

And there you go.

Well, come on in.

They're trying to rig the election.

California is too close to call.

All right, sweetheart.
Whatever you say.

- Why isn't she here?
- She won't leave her post.

It is time for a surgical strike.

I can smell you from down the hall.

Not now, Dennis.

The neo-Marxists have infiltrated USIDent.
She has to leave there immediately.

It's OK, she has everything
under control.

We need to get her out of there.

The project was called
Serpentine Dream Theory.

The tidal generator within Utopia 3,

has achieved simulated
perpetual motion.

The impact of this achievement

has slowed the acceleration
of the planet to such a degree

that certain environmental anomalies
have started to surface.

One of these anomalies,
discovered earlier this year,

was a rift in the 4th dimension.

A rift in the fabric of space-time.
Half a kilometer wide.

Located on the outskirts of Lake Mead.

Yes, Mr. Santaros.

Just like you imagined
in your screenplay.

And what did we do once we discovered
a rift in the 4th dimension?

We launched monkeys into it.

Only a human subject
could survive that jaunt.

The soul of a monkey can't survive
the dimensional threshold.

So we learned.

At which point, the Baron decided
that the first human subject

to travel through the rift
would be a movie star.

Why me?

Your celebrity and your political ties
proved an irresistible combination.

As the satellite photos show,

at approximately 10:51 am,

and this is 69 minutes
before you passed through the rift,

a duplicate Boxer Santaros appeared.

You traveled 69 minutes
back in time, sir.

At which point, your future-self,

and your past-self
confronted one another.

So, I'm my future-self.

And I'm the dude
who traveled through the rift.

And this is all that's left
of your past-self.

This body. This artifact.

This dual existence
of a single human soul

could unlock the secret of creation,
the secret of humankind.

I don't understand.

I've never considered
committing suicide.

I'm a pimp.

And pimps don't commit suicide.

We don't know what would happen
if two identical human souls

and the vessels that they traveled in,

were to come into immediate
close contact with one another.

Your quick decisive decision
to commit suicide

was a sign to us
that humankind cannot go on

with two identical human souls
walking the face of the Earth.

Humankind owes you a great debt...

...for your sacrifice.

Amnesia has been linked
to the post-traumatic stress disorder

in soldiers who returned from Iraq.

For Ronald, all the memories
from the experiment came flooding back.

Yo, dawg.
I'm gonna empty out my account.

Take everything I got.

Neat.

Welcome to the Rove Credit Union.

Please have your USIDent card ready
in order to make your transaction.

Welcome, Martin Kefauver. Welcome.

Martin... Welcome, welcome, welcome.

Yo, dawg, it says...
it says "transaction denied", dawg.

Yo. What do I do?

We're going to take the ATM machine
with us to Mexico.

- Are we...?
- Yeah.

The basic majority of the population
is neurologically impaired,

er... aka functionally retarded.

Seamus, can I have
a Full Throttle, please?

If things fall apart,
the center cannot hold.

Into the abyss we go.

We've got a perimeter breach
at Caltrans Building. I repeat...

'To be honest, we're just
looking out for the niggers.

This is my deal now, Santaros.

Recommend open fire into the crowd.

Die, you fucking pig!

Apparently
we've lost contact with Sky Cam.

As you could see,
just before we lost the picture,

a lot of people downtown,
a lot of activity.

All kinds of problems.
Please stay indoors.

Stay inside,
and Carlos, we're getting information

that it was the neo-Marxist group
that started the rioting.

You know.

You know exactly
what happened out in the desert.

Who did the Baron hire to kidnap me?

And who drove me through the time rift?

You haven't figured that out yet?

What is his name?

Officer Roland Taverner.

Officer Roland Taverner. How are you?

Is he still alive?

In more ways than one.

You made sure Taverner
went through the time rift with me.

Then you hit the SUV
self-destruct trigger by remote,

which means I didn't kill myself.

You're a pimp.

Pimps don't commit suicide.

You got that right.

Roland Taverner and his twin brother,

they're the same person, aren't they?

Two identical souls
walking the face of the Earth,

co-existing in the same
dominion of chaos.

What will happen if they shake hands?

The 4th dimension
will collapse upon itself.

You stupid bitch.

Fuck!

Ice-cream truck.

The ocean is in control.

Teri?

Yeah!

I mean, yeah!

The time is now!

Teri. You've gone too far.

And I live in the tower of fire.

And this is the tower of fire.

We have to evacuate.

Yo, should we get out of the car, dawg?

There he is. Let's go.

I think they're already inside.

- Argh!
- No.

Roland! Argh!

Yo, yo, dawg. You all right?

Well done, soldier.

Take the target.

You can't miss.

There is not much time left.

What on God's name
are you talking about?

There are those who have
crossed into deaths other kingdom

for that one final meeting
in the twilight kingdom.

It had to be this way.

I know.

He's going to die.

There's nothing we can do about it.

Is this some kind of an orgy
or something?

What the hell is he doing?

Evacuate the atrium.
Move to the rear of the MegaZeppelin.

No. Everybody.

Go back to your seats.

Or I kill myself.
And I swear to God... I'll do it.

Now, Mr. Santaros, put down the gun.

You've killed yourself once already,
there's no need to be redundant.

Please evacuate.

We have to let go.

- I can't.
- You have to let me go.

But the truck will fall,
and we'll both die.

Let me go
or I'll pull this fucking trigger.

- No, you won't.
- I swear to God I'll do it.

- No, you won't.
- I swear to God I'll do it.

Put down the gun.

This is all in my head.

I could pull the trigger now
and wake up.

This whole nightmare will be over.

Don't you remember, Ronald?

Do you remember Fallujah?

I remember everything.

Get your hands off of me!

Our mission is to destroy Capitalism.

Dethrone God.

Officer Roland Taverner.

That's who you want.

He is the one who can dethrone God.

Mother?

But he wasn't supposed
to go through the rift.

The car was supposed to be
on auto-pilot.

Serpentine?

This is way the world ends.

Not with a whimper...

...but with a bang.

And a handshake.

Whoa, what the hell is that?

It's an ice-cream truck.

I knew that son of a bitch was crazy
the first time I saw him.

Get me out of here.

It wasn't our fault.

It wasn't our fault.

Friendly fire.

I forgive you.

Friendly fire.

- I forgive you.
- Friendly fire.

- Friendly fire.
- I forgive you.

- Friendly fire.
- I forgive you.

I forgive you.

I forgive you.

And God wiped away the tears
from His eyes,

so the new Messiah could see out
to the new Jerusalem.

His name was Officer Roland Taverner,
of Hermosa Beach, California.

My best friend.

He is a pimp.

And pimps don't commit suicide.