Original subtitles

Aw!

- Hey, what's going on? - What are you doing in my car?

Shit! Where are we going?

- How did you get in my car? - What?

You said I could sleep here.

- You said it was comfortable too. - No!

- You didn't say that? - No. Get out.

- This is crap. Come on! - Get out. I'm late.

Man: Stop pulling. You're hurting me.

You know what you could do? Eat it!

- You lied, man. - Yeah, yeah.

- That's great. - F you, pal.

F you, buddy!

Hey! Hey!

I'm looking for Cheerful Place.

- What are you looking for? - Cheerful Place.

Isn't it right there?

Jesus, no.

Christ Almighty.

Oh, fuck.

Don't worry, kids. Flappy's here!

Hurry up, we're gonna miss it.

I'm trying!

Man: Get the hell off of me!

There's no reason for all this. We can handle this ourselves.

Man: It was an accident.

It's a goddamn misunderstanding.

Jill, would you tell them we can handle this ourselves?

- (baby crying) - What the fuck are you looking at?

It's your call. You give me the say-so, he's gone.

Excuse me! Perhaps you didn't hear me.

Man: For Christ's sakes, Jill, open up your mouth!

- Could you take him away? - What?!

- Officer: Get up! - Just for a while, Travis.

- Just until you cool down. - You coerced her into saying that!

- Simmer down, shitbag! - Fine. Come on, you bitch!

- Stop! - Girl: Take him away already!

Officer: Come on.

Officer: Come on, get in there.

Get in there.

Mrs. Lee?

- I'm so sorry. - Oh, no. Don't be.

If you can wait, I'll get you your money.

- Is he giving you a hard time? - Jill: No.

- Not at all. - Call me if you need anything.

- The money... - No. Don't.

I understand. You won't be too old for a clown next year.

- Will I, Mommy? - No.

There it is, then. Same time next year, Mom?

- Sure. Thank you, Mr... - Flappy.

It's the illusion. It's for the kids.

I almost forgot.

They would have taken away my clown license

if I'd let this one slip by.

- You wouldn't rat on me, though? - No.

Here!

And eat an extra piece of cake for Flappy.

You need it more than I do.

- Twice in one day, loser! - Fuck you, bastard!

Free refill, please!

Aren't you supposed to be at a gig today?

Well, it was canceled at the zero hour.

No wonder you are so damned testy. What happened?

The abridged version goes something like this...

will you cut it out?!

Husband pounds wife. Wife screams.

Neighbors call cops. Cops come, bust him.

- The party's over. - Raw deal.

You got the cash, though?

She didn't pay you? Fuck that shit.

Time is money, spousal abuse or not.

I'd be in small claims court, if I were you.

- Humanitarian to the last. - Nevermind her.

I almost forgot the big news.

- My grandmother kicked me out. - I've heard this before.

She was pretty official about it this time.

Her lawyer sent me a letter saying she doesn't want me around anymore

because I don't pay bills or get up before 12:00.

- Nice. - She can bite me anyway.

I'll be flying solo soon. I got a job.

Where?

Tuott the Basehead hooked me up with Suds 'N' Stuff over the weekend.

Watch yourself on that corporate ladder.

Listen to this bull. Is that your limo outside?

Driving around in that little shitbox.

That shitbox totes your ass to and fro.

You walk around with empty pockets like some poor-ass church mouse.

You know you need the extra cash. Come work with me.

- You get your own jumpsuit. - No, thanks.

That's how it starts. Crappy job here, crappy job there,

next thing you know, you're 70 years old,

living on the dole wondering where your life went,

and your best friend comes cable-ready with a remote.

That's beneath even you.

- What's up your ass? - Nothing.

Shine bumpers if you want.

Nobody's stopping you. I'm sure you'll do well.

You're right. I should hinge my future on dancing around

like a mongoloid on a bad acid trip for a bunch of spoiled dick-heads.

- You think what I do is stupid? - All I'm saying

is your life expectations as far as clowning is concerned

are far-fetched, dare I say, totally unrealistic.

It's what I want to do. And I believe things will work out,

and one day I'll make a good living at it. Cliché, but humor me.

How long did it take to build Rome?

Your problem is, zero patience.

I can see how the rise and fall of Rome parallel your existence.

You're barely surviving.

The money you make... sporadic at best.

How much of your monthly take goes for that nursing home?

$200. But I only pay half, 'cause Uncle Sam picks up the rest.

- How much do you make? - It depends.

I usually bring in...

- maybe $500-$600. - So, in other words, four.

How do you pay rent, car insurance and eat

on 200 or 300 bucks a month?

Mosier knocks a couple of bucks off

if I mow the lawn or do some maintenance.

Plus, to be honest, I don't exactly pay insurance on that shitbox,

as you so fondly referred to it.

I'm in a quandary about the resting home deal.

Not for nothing, but your mom...

- she's a bitch. - Hey!

That's my mom!

My mother had a hard life.

Her mother died when she was three,

and her father expected her to take on the wifely duties...

- all of them. - I've heard this before.

Why should you atone for his shortcomings?

- Plus, you call her names all the time. - I know.

But she's still my mom. And there's a difference between

calling your mother a bitch and someone else saying it.

Sorry. She's such a bitch.

- (beep) - Recording: William, Sam Mosier.

I don't want to be a nut-biter,

but I'll need some money from you soon.

There's just not that much grass to mow.

- (beep) - Girl: Guess what,

Mr. Flappy-the-Jerk-Off? Your message sucks!

- Girl: Clowns suck too. - Girl #2: Tell him to eat shit.

- (beep) - Woman: Pick up the phone!

I know you're there!

I want to thank you for being so goddamn worthless!

They are asking me for the money you owe!

They want to know why the rent hasn't been paid

for this fucking cesspool you've thrown me in!

Try to understand this: Bring the money today!

- Now! - (beep)

Machine: You have no more messages.

Do you mind?

Rumor has it that backseat's comfortable.

- Get away! - (both laugh)

What is he, your boss?

- Are you his bitch? - No!

PA: Who's ready for bingo?

Are you ready for bingo?

The fun starts at 7:00 in the cafeteria.

Don't forget your markers.

Excuse me, ladies.

How rude.

- Get I get you anything else? - No, not unless

- you have a cure for my rheumatism. - I wish.

Will: Hi, Mom.

It's my nap time. Why don't you follow suit,

and make like that irritating little bitch?

What are you talking about? I just got here.

I'm talking about you being a source of embarrassment,

a colossal disappointment!

I wish I'd had the courage to take that trip down the back alley.

Come on. I paid up some of the bill,

so please, can we have a nice visit?

- Don't start with that. - I am going to start.

This room, if that's what you want to call it,

isn't provided by some divine entity.

I've had it up to here with that bitch of a secretary,

reminding me daily that you're too stupid

to remember that I have to pay to live here.

It's not that I don't remember...

Don't interrupt me. God damn it, don't you dare contradict me!

You show me the respect I deserve.

If your father were alive,

I'd have him slap you in your snotty little mouth.

- Here we go. - What did you say?!

- How dare you? Get over here... - Relax. I didn't mean it.

- Get your ass over here! - I won't let you hit me!

Forget it, I'll leave before that happens.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time, would it?

That's always the way it's been with you.

Couldn't stand on your own two feet to defend yourself,

if your worthless life depended on it.

Run away, William. It's your answer to everything.

You don't have to stay!

I know you don't want to come to see me.

Yes, I do.

I like to come and see you.

I just wish you'd relax a little and not get so short-tempered.

I get so lonely around here.

Nobody talks to me.

Nobody bothers with me at all.

They have their own little circles.

They don't want to know from anyone.

- They think they're better than me. - Come on, Mom.

You know that's not true.

So, suddenly, you're some kind of big man, huh?

Not so big that you can earn a decent living,

let alone take care of your own mother!

I am so happy that God showed grace enough to take your father away,

- The account is nearly paid up... - You know what you are?

- A whole lot of nothing! - I'm trying...

Trying won't get you through life!

Actions will get you through it.

I thought you'd have learned that by now.

- If your father... - Enough about him!

What do you have to canonize that son of a bitch?!

I know the way he was. I know what you went through!

I'm sick of listening to how fucking great he was!

I'm sorry.

- I shouldn't have said that. - Get out!

It was out of line. I apologize.

I said, get the hell out!

Oh God! Somebody...

get him out of here!

I can't stand to look at you. Get the fuck out!

Woman: Don't let him get away.

You and me, go round to round, Jersey style.

Take it on, you smelly bitch.

Hey, it's clowny!

- Give me a dollar! - Yeah, give him a dollar.

Those boys giving you some trouble, Willie?

- Nothing I can't handle. - Bunch of roughnecks.

- Did you get my message? - Yeah. I'm sorry.

I lost a couple of jobs this past week.

Will, I need your help. Somebody's stealing my utilities.

- Oh yeah? - Maybe you overheard something?

No, I haven't. But I'll let you know if I do.

I know your word, Will.

# I wish I was a fry cook #

# Hurray, hurray. #

"Parking attendants." No.

"Recreational Center counselor." No.

"Office manager." Pff! Hell no.

No.

No.

No.

And no.

"Let me watch you fuck my wife"?!

"Her, deliciously plump.

You, big and Black with huge set."

"You supply the bathroom brownies,

I sample them."

"Why settle for less when you can have three holes going?

Call Katlyn for an unforgettable bachelor party."

Sick, sick people.

Bachelor parties.

What's the occasion? This place is fucking posh.

What took you so long? Why is your hair wet?

Because I took a shower. Good thing I did.

- Check this out. - What's this?

An epiphany. The single greatest idea I've ever had.

What do you want?

- Hi... - Order something.

Oh. Could I have a burger... charbroiled...

with an order of fries and a coke?

- What are you looking at? - Nothing.

Can I get a coffee? Black.

I'm buying. Order something.

Nah.

What?

- What's wrong? - " You are invited.

Come to my poop party"?

You'll let people take a dump on you?

- What? - You're sick.

I thought I knew you, man.

No. That's where I got the idea from.

- Nobody's gonna crap in your face? - Of course not, you idiot.

I changed my mind. Give me the same as him, with two free refills.

- Waitress: Too late. - Quit screwing around and listen.

Picture this. It's the night before your wedding,

and your friends have gotten together to throw you a bachelor party.

You expect some booze and bawdy behavior,

and of course, the requisite buxom babe. Standard.

This guy will eat your boogers free, for nothing.

That's where I come in. The groom-to-be is expecting a bimbo

with tits from here till Tuesday and a gyrating lap dance.

Instead, it's a male clown with fishnets and garters and a bustier,

Did you eat crack for breakfast? What's the matter with you?

It's a joke. Get it?

Instead of the stripper, I show up to the party

and shock the shit out of the groom!

You're confident there's a calling for that?

No one will be ripping my door off the hinges at first,

but word of mouth advertising.

I could develop a cult following.

Admit, you've never heard anything like this before.

- You got me there. - Everyone except the groom-to-be

is in on the joke.

I show up 20 minutes before the real entertainment,

put on a show, then take off. It'll be funny!

Will you still use the name Flappy?

- 'Cause that will cause confusion. - What do you think?

What's your stage name? You need a moniker.

You can help me out with that.

I know. How about " Will, the naked and retarded clown"?

I won't be naked. Think of something else.

Call a spade a spade. What you're proposing is vulgar.

Vulgar.

It has sort of a nice ring to it.

- That might work, actually. - Work it.

37.

Well, here goes something.

Hello, boys!

Guess who!

Oh. I'm sorry.

- I must have the wrong place. - Not if you're ready to get down.

- Looks like you are. - Man #2: I got him!

You and my dad, you're going to do the dog.

Man #1: Frankie, back off! He don't need to know that just yet.

You don't come near him until I give the say so.

This is my goddamn party! I run the show.

Get your pajamas on.

Man #3: Whoa!

I didn't get to do anything!

You promised he'd be pretty.

- He's fucking ugly. - Close the lips, monkey balls!

- He's Daddy's treat! - Shut up, Frankie!

- You're trying to kiss up... - You're jealous, Gino,

because Daddy let me hit the clown. He likes me better!

- He doesn't like you better. - (voices overlap)

Where do you think you're going? This party ain't over.

There's a shitload of fun to be had before you call this a night.

Will: Help me.

Get that, Gino. This ain't no spectator sport.

- I can do that. - Well, do it.

Gino, show your brother a couple of steps over there.

That boy has two left feet.

Stop that kind of dancing.

- Why do you get to be the clown? - Because I'm older.

And I don't want any more lip from you.

- What is going on over there? - He won't let me be the clown.

I'm older. I'm pretending I'm the clown.

Frankie's Daddy's little boy. That's all.

Frankie, listen to your brother. He is the boss.

No!

Uh-oh.

What the fuck are you saying? Shut the fuck up!

- I'll beat your ass! - If you motherfuckers can't get along,

I am never bringing you with me ever again.

Is that what you want?

- No. - No.

You know it's sweet.

Do you want to miss out on your chance to...

Shut your mouths!

I want you to watch him. Can you do that?

- I can. - Dad, he's getting away.

- Will somebody stop him? - I could have stopped him.

Save some for us.

Dad: Where did you put my dust pipe?

- In the shitbag. - Oh, the shitbag.

I almost forgot about the shitbag.

Gino... get the camera.

I want to make a record of this.

If I'm not mistaken, Mr. Fuckface here is...

cherry.

Gino: Daddy, you want it on SP, LP or SLP?

I don't give a fat rat's ass, stupid bastard.

- Just turn it on. - It is on.

Shut the fuck up. I'm gonna start the show.

What's your name? I asked you a question, sweet ass.

Vulgar.

- Vulgar the Clown. - Suck my daddy, swine fuck!

Gino: Daddy! He's ruining everything!

Shut the fuck up, Gino! You fucking pussy!

Get your sphincter out of my frame, asshole!

Cut it out!

I mean, your real name, funny man!

Stop laughing. Set him back up, you cocks.

We'll just take that part out.

All right, asshole. Same question.

- What the fuck is your name? - William.

- Will: Why are you doing this? - Okay, William.

Willy. Willy Billy.

- What is it that you do? - I'm a party clown for kids.

No, you're not. You're a cocksucker!

You want me blowing it down your throat.

- No. - Liar. I know faggots like you.

Nothing like the feeling of some fucker's shaft down your throat, huh?

Could be some basehead. What do you care?

Probably suck down his infected manstuff,

smile and call it cherry pie.

You get off on that shit, don't you?

- No... - Yes, you do!

Come on, let me go.

I don't even know who you are.

- My daddy's name is Edwina. - Shut your hole, you moron!

You always do that.

I won't try to press charges.

You're goddamn right you won't.

He's afraid of Dad. Look at him.

He should be afraid of Dad. Dad's tough.

- Let me fuck his cock pouch. - Dad: Not yet.

- Now!! - Dad: Soon, though.

Soon you'll taste what's good.

But first, I want him to say the words.

Say, "I love to suck cock."

All right. All right.

I love to suck cock.

"My name is William, and I love to suck cock."

My name is William,

and I love to suck cock.

- Tonight's the night. - Please, stop.

What we have here is a failure to communicate.

- Some men you just can't reach. - Please, Edwina.

Turn that thing off!

What the fuck did you say to me?

- Uh... tonight's the night. - Before that.

- You said my name. - I'm sorry.

- I didn't know. - All right. Ass on the bed. Now!

If I have to tell you again,

the wind will be whistling Dixie through a hole in your face.

Me and you are going to bed. That's a fact!

I'm going to make hate to you! Get your ass up there!

What do you think? We're going to kiss?

Get him on his fucking stomach!

Quit holding me up, Gino. Come on.

Get away from me.

Will: No!

- Time for the dog, Pop. - Don't rush me.

- Daddy's going to cock him hard. - Damn right, I am!

And you boys will toss the salad!

- You never had it so good, did you? - He never did.

Rim job!

- Now, the shame. - (Will screams)

Frankie: Daddy's making his move!

Mother: (distorted) You know what you are, William?

A whole lot of nothing.

Do you know? Who got the shitbag?

You're holding it, Dad.

He was good.

You...

you fucking nobody!

(kno cking o n do o r)

Open up, Will.

When was last time you cleaned this place?

What are you doing?

Shit, what happened?

Who did this?

Did somebody rob you? One of those fucks outside?

You sit there, all right? You'll be fine.

- I'll call the cops. - No!

Don't call anyone.

- You couldn't, even if I let you. - Why?

Will, tell me what happened to you.

I'll tell you.

I'll tell you. Just...

don't say a word, 'cause once I tell you, that's it,

it's never mentioned again.

- I don't think... - I don't care about what you think

at this precise moment.

What I'm about to tell you...

is not to leave this room.

It can't and it won't.

I'll deal with it in my own way.

So, please, no questions or suggestions about what I should do.

As far as anyone else is concerned,

I was down by Gravely Point,

and got jumped by some guy with a limp and a.44

who pistol-whipped my ass and took my wallet.

All right?

What choice do I have?

This is what happened.

- Will: I must have the wrong place. - Dad: Not if you're ready to get down.

Dad: Now, the shame.

What happened after that, I don't remember so hot.

All I know is that I woke up this morning alive,

and I'm still trying to decide whether I should be thankful for that.

I don't believe this.

What did the doctor say?

You didn't go to the hospital?

- I just wanted to be home. - Somebody has to look at you.

No questions, no suggestions.

One of those scumbags could have given you a disease.

- You agreed! - I know what I said!

But we have to find these guys. They're sick!

- You could have AIDS! - You think I haven't thought of that?

You don't think that was my first thought?

Fucking A, right, it was! But you know what?

If one of them did have it, there's nothing I can do.

- Will... - Will you shut the fuck up?!

You're leaving them out there to do it to somebody else!

- Not my problem. - It is your problem!

Cops can track dogshit like these guys down.

- You can help. - How would that look?

- How would what look? - A man dressed as a perverted clown,

shows up to a party for three men and cries foul

- after being roughed up a bit? - A bit?!

- There's more to it than that. - Do you want to know why?

Because that's what a lawyer would do.

And I won't sit in front of a jury who thinks

I'm some degenerate defending my character.

- You're not honest with yourself. - Will you stop reacting,

and think about it?! They held me down and raped me!

Exactly! That's why you shouldn't let them walk!

- You should... - Syd, I don't want anyone to know!

That's why.

I don't want anyone to know.

I just don't want anyone to know.

- I don't want anyone to know! - All right. It's okay.

Syd: No one else, right?

- (Will sobs) - Nobody else.

Nobody else.

Will: Mrs. Affleck? This is Will Carlson,

the party clown. I know it's short notice,

I won't be able to make it.

I'm sorry, something came up.

No, I can't. I can't.

(with clown voice) Yes, this is really Flappy.

No, it really is.

L...

I'll be there, Benny.

See you soon.

- Whoa, hold up! - (sirens wailing)

- (crash) - Watch where you're going, fuckstick!

Sorry!

- Hurry up! - Will: What's going on?

Some dickhead got his walking papers.

That thing friggin' rules! Let's go!

- Will: Walking papers? - Divorce papers, dumbass!

Where do you think you're going?

I'll have that shitbox towed right out of here!

Officer: Don't you people have jobs? Let's go.

Move it back. Let's go.

Captain: I repeat, put the weapon down.

Let Ashley go, Travis.

I repeat, go fuck yourself!

She's in charge here, not me!

Travis: Not you, her! Jill started all this shit!

Ashley knows it too!

You hear that?! She knows!

You think you can sneak around on me and get a divorce?

I want what's rightfully mine! I want what's coming to me.

Captain: I know you don't want to hurt your daughter.

We both know that. This is about something else.

Just talk to me. Maybe we can figure something out.

- It'd be better... - I'll tell you what'd be better.

Send that bitch in here!

She comes in, Ashley comes out.

Get your damn hands off me! I have to go!

If your mother would listen, we wouldn't have to go through this.

You think I'm fucking with you?

You're talking about clearing this shit up,

you've got cops skulking around!

Don't jerk me off, Captain!

Captain: It doesn't have to be this way.

That's the way it's gotta be!

If I go out, I ain't going out alone!

I'll take a few of you fucks with me!

Captain: No one's been hurt. Walk away with a clean conscience.

- It'll be better for us both. - I'm better than you!

- Better than all of you! - Captain: Talk to me, Travis.

I need to know everything's okay in there.

We're going to arrange a meeting with your wife.

Nobody else, just her!

Captain: You know I can't promise that.

Travis: You think I'm some kind of asshole?!

You think I don't know I'm fucked? You're fucked too!

No matter what you think,

you're not walking away from this a winner. No way!

Captain: Is there anything you'd like?

Some sandwiches, coffee maybe?

- Something for Ashley? - Travis: No!

There's only one thing on my mind.

You have the power to grant me one request?

Captain: Within reason. What do you want?

Bitch's head on a stake.

A deranged father.

An innocent young girl.

It could have ended up yet another statistic

in the growing holocaust of violent domestic unrest

that plagues this country.

But a hometown hero got involved.

Or rather, a hometown clown.

A clown who's got something to smile about,

one eternally grateful little girl.

Let's please welcome Will Carlson,

better known as Flappy the Clown. Welcome to the show.

Will...

what I'd like you to do now

is to take us back.

Tell me what was going through your mind,

what the catalyst, one might say,

was that led you to confront this maniac?

I've given this some thought over the past few days.

To be totally honest,

I still don't know.

There was a little girl that you saved.

- A little eight-year-old girl. - Yeah.

Host: Then the fact that it was a child,

perhaps, that moved you in some way?

Call me old-fashioned, but I've always had a soft spot

for kids with guns pointed at their heads.

But seriously,

you could have easily have been killed.

I can't tell you how many times I've been told that,

- but here I am. - And here you are.

Let's take a few questions from the audience.

Yes, ma'am.

Hi, Flappy.

Hi.

I'm glad you killed that worthless piece of trash.

I didn't kill him.

- I didn't kill him. - You're no hero.

Now, is there a ceiling on how much crap

we, as Americans, have to tolerate from (bleep) like this?

Also, I was wondering

if you'd consider doing another kind of party?

Umm... I didn't quite catch the first part of that question.

And as for the latter... I didn't get that either.

I still do parties for kids!

Only humans can he heroes, right?

Tell that to Walt Flannigan's dog,

a gutsy pooch who pulled his screaming master

from a burning comic book store.

That story and other hometown heroes...

Don't.

Flappy.

- May I suggest a sandwich, sir? - You may suggest nothing.

Please... he's a fucking party clown. There's not too many of them.

Now find him and get back to me.

Jesus H. Christ, are you still out here from last week?

- Well, if it isn't Mr. Funny Pants. - It's not his fault.

There's been a horrible wind shear all morning.

Relax.

Where have you been? You're an hour late.

Somebody's got to secure our positions

at the top of the entertainment biz.

Damn.

You're not even fucking listening.

All right, Marty, what's on your mind?

Well, Gil, how would you like to be responsible for programming

one of the most popular kiddie shows of all time?

Well, Marty, I'd love it.

Kind of missed my window, though.

Sesame Street's been on for quite some time.

I'm talking about now, about a new show.

Gil?

I'm talking about Flappy.

- Who? - He said Flappy.

I know what he said. Stand over there, please.

You've got to tell me what you're talking about

- before I can give you an appraisal. - First off, it's not a what.

It's a who. And he's making a big splash, Orca-style.

It's the hero clown. The one who saved the little girl.

- The father and guns and everything. - Boring.

He's become a media darling.

It's already transcended the local networks.

This guy has been on two nationwide tabloid shows.

And he's scheduled for prime time tonight.

And what did you say his name is again?

Flappy.

How can you not love that?

Not loving it.

Fine.

It's all right. Just work on your...

let me tell you about this one time I brought this other kid's show

- to Gil's attention. - Hey! Hey!

We agreed never to bring that up again.

Not even in jest.

Nobody knew that big, fat purple bastard

would have such staying power.

Who is this Flappy guy?

People save kids every day of the week.

I heard some flea-footed dog saved his master.

- You want to give him a TV show too? - People love him.

If you're a parent and you haven't secured him

for your kids' party, forget it.

You're meat. They hate you.

This guy's gonna be big! I can feel it.

That prehistoric shitbag, dude, he's scrapnel.

This Flappy is prime fucking rib!

- Strike while the iron's hot! - All right. Listen.

We've got two months until our contracts are re-upped.

- If he's still as hot then... - Listen.

- # I love you, you love me... # - All right!

All right, you pushy bastard. Get this Flappy guy on board.

- Yes! - No... and I repeat...

no long-term deal, standard contract only.

I'm not marrying some wet-behind-the-ears rookie.

Gil?

Flappy's the word.

# Flappy's the word, is the word #

- # Have you heard... # - Marty, do you mind?

It's cool.

Flappy...

you had better have me golfing

with some players in Hawaii by year's end.

He will, sir. He will.

- The wedge! - Wise choice, sir.

(kno cking)

Look, I don't know who you're collecting for,

but they can save a cell for me down in debtors prison.

Oh. Mr. Carlson.

Hi. No, I'm Martan Ingram.

Jayram Television.

You know, out at the highlands.

- Oh. I'm sorry. Come in. - Thank you.

Come in.

You know how those bill collectors can be,

wanting payment on goods and services, the nerve.

They can be trying. Ummm...

let me cut right to the chase.

Have you ever done any television before?

A ton in the past few weeks.

Oh, the news, but I'm talking about before that.

Well, once I was eating at Ray's Ribtip Grill,

and this old dude smashed through the window

and killed this retarded kid, and they asked me for a comment

on the 11:00 news.

Well... l...

I meant, have you thought of hosting your own show?

Well, I was trying to set up something on cable access,

- but air time doesn't come cheap. - It can be pricey.

I was thinking that l... we, at Jayram...

we're extremely enthusiastic about you hosting your own show.

Yeah, right. Where's the camera?

Who are you, Allen Funt's evil twin?

- You're serious? - As a heart attack.

I always wanted to say that. You'd be syndicated,

which means that every kid, from Portland, Oregon

to Portland, Maine, would be watching your show,

or more specifically, you, the Flappy.

- I don't know what to think. - I brought a contract along,

and it's spelled out fairly clearly. I was hoping we could...

jeez...

I'm rushing you, aren't I?

God, I'm not even thinking this is sudden for you.

That's one way of putting it. Surreal might be another.

Why don't we do this like real people?

Do you want to have dinner tonight?

If you want, feel free to bring your agent along.

- That's fine with me. - I don't exactly have an agent.

Ooh.

Well... if we had to, we could wait.

No! I mean, no.

Why give those guys 10%?

It's just that my car is a bit on the fritz.

Not a problem. We'll send a car to pick you up.

- 7:00? - That would be great.

Ummm... why, though?

If you're partial to public transportation,

- by all means, take the bus. - No, no. Why the show?

Why me? I know I helped a little girl...

Helped her?

You saved her.

People remember things like that.

Have you ever heard of karma?

- Yeah. - Okay, then.

Hi, Mom.

Visiting hours are over. You have to leave.

The secretary said I could drop by.

I'm sorry I haven't been by in a few days. I've been busy.

- I saw you on the television. - You did?

That's what I'm here to talk about.

Of course, I was watching it in the community room.

I don't have a TV of my own, like everyone else here.

You will soon. I have some pretty good news.

- Sure. - No, I do.

Someone from one of the networks saw what I did.

It was a very stupid thing to do.

Some people think that.

It might not have been one of my smartest moves...

I don't know that you've ever made a smart move

in your whole miserable existence.

I'm sorry about what I said. When you talk about him...

I didn't mean it. I got a little mad.

Can we forget it happened and start fresh?

I don't have to stand for that.

I know. I said I'm sorry. I didn't come here to fight.

I came to tell you that I got a job.

On television!

Television?

They must have put you on as a maintenance man.

You have no skills.

What could you be qualified for?

I'm a clown, just like I've always wanted to be.

It finally worked out.

For a while, it looked bleak,

and I thought I might have to give it up, but I'm glad I didn't!

Still with the clown business?

You'll go nowhere with that.

I've tried to drum some sense into that skull of yours for years...

Mom, you're not listening.

I have my own show, my own regular TV show.

It will be called, Flappy's Fun House.

That's an absurd name.

They thought of the name. But it'll be pretty good.

It has some positive messages, and no violence.

The idea is that it teaches and entertains at the same time.

What parent in their right mind

would let their child watch such foolishness?

It won't last. Even I can see that.

You'll end up right back where you started.

Seems you were born to be a bumbling idiot.

What is so hard about being happy for me?

Why can't you say anything nice?

Why bother telling you?

I'd just as soon you didn't annoy me

with such asinine fairy tales.

- Television! - Want me to show you the contracts?

- What do you need? Written proof? - Maven on the move.

What you need to learn is what you do is nothing more than a hobby.

It's a job, not a hobby.

Yes, well, you've overstayed your welcome.

Go on, get out!

Bring some good news back with you next time,

not some bullshit about having a real job!

I'll believe you have a real job the day you can walk in,

and your hands aren't softer than a newborn's ass.

Out! I don't want to hear it. You make me ill.

Well, kids, you won't believe this,

but that's all the time we have for today.

Have no fear. We'll do it all again tomorrow,

with more fun and excitement on Flappy's Fun House!

Kids: Yeah!

Now, I want to thank you,

and you,

and you,

for helping me make this first show a big success.

I want you to do what Flappy did.

Stay in school and take care of yourself,

because you know what? You're the only you you've got.

And I'm not clowning around!

- Woman: Excuse me. - Marty: You are a natural.

- You realize that, don't you? - Hello, Flappy. Martan

Cinnamon, get the door. These kids, they just...

- they love you. - They do, don't they?

Absolutely. I'm no psychic friend,

but I'll bet that within a year, you'll be more popular

than "It's Scotty" and those powerful Rangers.

- Will: Really? - Yes.

Fuck.

It came, Mommy!

- Flappy sent the video! - So he did.

- Want me to open it for you? - "Want me to open it for you?"

Would you two shut up? I'm trying to watch a picture here.

- Shut up, you old fool. - Shut up, old fool.

Hey, I don't want her talking to me like that.

- Can I watch it now? - You certainly can.

What? I was watching something.

Woman: I noticed.

It's just that I don't care.

- What? I pay the damn rent! - Watch your English around her.

What does that say? Volume eight?

Have you been buying that crap and not telling me?

- What is it? - It's Flappy's Funhouse!

I can read. What's a Flappy?

I like and love Flappy.

- That tells me nothing... - Leave her alone.

Leave me alone. He's mad 'cause Flappy's better than him.

All right, that's it. I'm going out with my boys.

We're bowling tonight.

- League champs, I might add. - Oh, I care.

Do they have social lives?

I have never seen two grown men

who'd rather hang out with their father constantly

instead of going on dates, or at least attempting to meet women.

Oh yeah? Maybe that's what we're doing.

- Have you considered that? - Who in their right mind

would be interested in you?

I can't believe I was for that fleeting moment.

You know, that front door hasn't moved.

Look at this. A clown.

How unique.

No one has ever thought of putting a clown on TV before.

You people are so easily taken,

especially you.

Will's voice: My name's William,

and I love to suck cocks. I love...

to suck cock.

...for kids.

Gee, Ed, if I had known you were gonna develop

such an affinity for it,

I'd have signed you up for his fanclub.

- Mom! - What's the matter, jackass?!

He sure is one.

I was like, " 10 grand for a store opening?"

I felt like I was robbing the guy.

I half expected him to ask me for help trafficking

black market babies to Mexico.

Syd: I'd do it for 10 grand. Which way to the border?

I'm getting another call.

Don't forget we're having dinner with Phil at Raskin's tonight.

I'll give you a call around 8:00.

Talk to you then.

Hello?

Ed: Hello, fuckface!

- Who is this? - Ed: Say it isn't so.

You've forgotten me already.

And after we were so...

familiar.

- What the hell do you want? - It's all coming back to you now?

I thought it might. What do I want?

That's a good question.

Immortality? Legendary status?

Wait! I've got it! $50,000!

For what?! Count yourself fortunate your ass isn't in jail.

I should have called the cops on you, you sick fuck!

Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?

I'll show them the goddamn tape. I'll bury you!

What tape?

You put on a good performance that night.

You took off the clown garments...

did it all.

The show was good. Worth the money.

I didn't put on any show. You know it.

What does your tape show? What you did to me?

Go ahead, shoot yourself in the foot, by all means.

You're trying to call my bluff.

That's not all the tape shows, handsome.

It shows you getting down,

but it seems you like talking about what you do.

- I don't believe you. - That's fine.

It's just that my boy Gino,

if there's one thing he likes it's fooling around with that camera,

making little movies, editing...

I knew it. Give me my video.

Now listen. You'll want to work with me on this.

If I show that tape to a few people...

the right people or the wrong people, depending on how you look at it...

Flappy's in for a world of trouble, wouldn't you say?

What assurance do I have that this tape even exists?

- Once you get the money, then what? - You get the tape.

This is the only one?

How can I be certain another one won't mysteriously pop up?

- You can't be. - Then why would I agree?

Because you have no choice, Mr. Fuck-face!

Stop calling me that!

- When? - Tomorrow.

How about the corner phone at Snub and Cornwall?

- I suggest you be there and wait. - I want to know now.

I'd let you know right now, but I have my eye...

on the most delicious young gentleman.

Couldn't be more than seven. So supple at that age, so...

goodbye, fuck-face!

What?

When you told me what happened that night,

you didn't mention a video camera.

Think hard. Are you sure you don't remember?

I'm sure.

I could barely remember anything the next day,

let alone a year later.

What are the chances he would hold on to something like that?

I think he's bullshitting you.

That's the thing. I don't know.

I'd like to believe he is...

but I'm not sure.

I don't think he is.

What are you going to do?

I'll pay him the money. What do you think?

- Why? - Why?

Take a look around you. I worked hard to get where I am,

and I won't let some pissant take it away.

- $50,000 is a lot of money. - It's a gamble.

I just hope this is it after this.

Then we can threaten him with extortion after paying him.

That's insane! Why should we give him anything after what he did?!

- "We" aren't giving him anything. - Fine.

Then what you should do is use the money

to hire somebody to storm into his shitty house,

beat his ass, get the video and then we'd be done with him.

He's a crazy old fuck. How much of a threat can he be?

Ed: Are these yours?

You should never have cut school today, young man.

- See what happens when you're truant? - (laughter)

Dad, he don't look so good.

And you do?

- Right now, let's go! - Dad!

He smells like shit again.

- I do not! - Ed: Stop.

Gino, do you plan on fucking it sometime today?

Well, I was thinking,

since he doesn't look so great...

- what if I just finger-fuck it? - Oh God.

Dad, Gino's scared of the little man's tiny hole.

I wish you would, fecal freak!

Did you ever see that movie?

This little guy around his age...

he's walking to school and gets kidnapped.

Next thing you know,

some psychic sticks her nose where it doesn't belong.

In the end, the kid gets saved,

lives to see the light of another day.

Damned her clairvoyant ass anyway.

No fortuneteller will come busting through that door

to save your sweet little hide.

I'll tell you what will happen.

You will take my man-size cock

between your pretty little lips.

Then, it's time to give up the ghost.

I'm not sure you know what that means.

It's pain. It's darkness...

forever.

You're gonna die, you dainty little fuck!

This is how I kiss.

And I'm gonna kiss you all over.

If there was a way to be certain...

You should have done something at the time.

It's fucking ironic is what it is.

A year ago, we could have nailed his ass to the wall.

It's a little too late for "should haves" and "could haves."

What I have to worry about now is how to get the money to him

without any traces back to me.

This is unreal.

He's going to get away with it.

Clean it up.

- He means you too, genius. - Go on and clean.

Quit it, Frankie.

Hello?

Ed: I know you have it. You would never let me down.

- No. - Your mama didn't raise no fool.

Cut the shit! This ain't no tea party!

Feisty. Don't get wise with me, Mr. Fuckface!

You're fucking with the bull. You know where I'll stick those horns.

Here's the news. You'll be looking for a '64 Skylark.

Damn, that was a good year.

My Frankie had his first piece of dick in a car like that.

Anyway, pull up the back-seat and put the case in.

After that, tell that old bastard Barron

that's not quite what you wanted. Can he suggest something else?

When he does, that's where you'll find your end of the deal.

That yard has ears, boy. So don't try pulling any slick shit.

Money, then the tape.

Anything else would be a tragic fucking mistake.

Capice?

"Do not enter." That's what you read.

Back it up.

Barron: Skylark? I've got one. A '64.

I got to shoot straight shit with you. She's an ugly old whore.

- Ain't much to look at it. - Will: That's fine.

Joe-Joe, run to the pharmacy and get me some eye douche.

- You do it! - Chop! Chop!

Got to keep these monkeys dancing.

What's with the case? Are you a stockbroker?

No.

Holy shit! You're not in the syndicate, are you?

One of those La Costra Nostra?

You got a machine gun in there?

No, I sell pools.

- Where's the car? - You might as well be in the mob.

The prices you charge ain't nothing but a shakedown anyway.

I sell them, I don't own the company.

I heard that before.

Well...

here she is. What do you think?

Barron: Last one in the yard.

At least in this yard.

Yo, Pops, you got a problem with one of Tony's aftermarkets.

Tell him to hold his water. I'm with a customer.

He said, " Go to hell and get your wrinkled ass on the phone."

Kick the tires. Look it over, do something.

I'll be right back.

So what do you think? Want me to gift-wrap her?

I was hoping you could suggest something else.

Listen, Mr. Pool, I have hundreds of cars.

You have to tell me what you're looking for.

I'm not the Kreskin of the junkyard.

You are Mr. Barron, right?

I sure as shit ain't jolly Saint Nick.

Shit.

I'd hate to be that guy.

Shit!

Fuck!

Damn!

What I'm saying is he fucking ripped me off!

There still could be a tape.

Why wouldn't he at least give you a copy,

just to let you know he has one?

I think he's full of shit. It doesn't make sense.

The fact that you think this guy deals with anything on a rational level

speaks volumes of how stupid you can be!

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.

I know you're not used to me being the voice of reason,

but you have to do something.

You gave him a chance, you didn't get the tape.

You don't want to hear this,

- but you should go to the cops. - Let's get something straight.

Calling the cops is not an option.

Not until I decide it is.

He won't go away by himself. You haven't given him a reason.

I know.

I'll be right back.

- Will: Hey! - Ed: Shitting with the common man?

I thought they built a throne for your golden asshole?

- What do you want? - An autograph!

We got your money. We spent some already.

We were talking over dinner on how you were a sweet boy,

so beautiful before the consummation.

So here's what's what: We want an encore performance,

- where you get fucked hard. - Fuck this shit!

Easy. I wouldn't recommend declining the invite.

If I show that tape, you go back to being a party whore.

You don't show up, you get fucked in more ways than one.

I want to taste you again.

- Get your hands off me! - Oooh...

that's how I like it. I'll be in touch, Vulgar...

to let you know about the party. Make sure your tits hang out.

If you don't follow my rules,

people might see things that could get a corn-holer like yourself

into some pretty hot water.

I'm going to fuck you again!

Syd: Shit! What happened?

What happened?

He was waiting for me in the bathroom.

Shit!

- Syd: Did you call security? - They're gone.

Fuck.

What did he say?

He said...

he said he wants us to kill him.

Hey, man!

- Have you seen my shirt? - You're wearing a shirt.

Get back inside.

Good to see you. Haven't been down at the car wash in a while.

You know that tall jigger Lamont,

started working there about a month ago?

No. Can we go inside?

He's this big jerk-off claims I owe him 20 bucks.

"Fuck that shit," I said.

That's when... bam!... he hits me in the mouth!

Like I said, he's pretty tall,

so I'm going to stay away till he cools down.

Sounds like a good idea.

Yeah, Lamont, he's...

as tall as Jay James, but he's got the muscles of James, Sr.

He walks around like he owns the place,

slapping people in the mouth, taking people's jumpsuits.

I fucking hate it when that fuck's there.

Anybody around?

Don't mind the mess.

Hey, boy.

This is Larry.

I'm thinking of changing it to something else.

That name reminds me too much of Lamont.

- If only you were Lamont. - Tuott.

Sorry.

Can you give me a hand over here?

Can you believe I found this?

Right near the garbage just waiting for pick-up day.

Between you and me, I found it in some guy's garage.

I'm sure he would have thrown them out.

What an idiot.

These two don't have any bullets.

That's a BB gun.

Oh.

These two do have bullets.

And they come with these things that go on the end.

- Silencers? - Yeah.

They make the gunshots, uh...

My friend told me that.

He said it's good because they don't have serial numbers.

You need any skag?

No, I'm good.

(mo to r running)

Will: Do you feel like you're going to throw up?

I do.

Where did you get this car? Whose is it?

Would you calm down? You're making me nervous.

I bought it for cash. It's untraceable.

One of Tuott's associates helped me a little.

Will: I can't believe so much of our faith

is placed in an arch-junkie.

We wouldn't have gotten this far if it weren't for him.

Will: Thank God for Tuott.

I want to be certain of one thing.

Are you still 100% on this?

Yes. I told you that already.

I'm not going in there to have you pussy on me.

- We have to be in and out. - I know.

The longer we stay, the better chance we have of getting caught.

And if we get caught, we go to jail.

And what they did to you will seem like

a church social compared to what goes on in prison.

You've never even gotten a speeding ticket.

How would you know?

Did you ever see "Caged Heat"? It is the same thing,

except totally different, because you're with guys.

- Got some coffee change? - Sure don't.

Come on, just a quarter. It won't break your bank.

Bum: Fuck you, tightfist!

My legs feel like rubber.

Maybe they thought we called the cops.

- I doubt they're even in there. - They're in there.

- I'm scared. - So am I.

All right. Just walk in, do what you have to do...

in and out. Can't be any more dramatic than that.

- I'll be right behind you. - I sure hope so.

Hold on.

Is it him, Dad?

- Please God, let it be him. - Ed: Hold on.

Gentlemen, the hole has arrived.

- Frankie: Woo-hoo! - Calm down!

Don't go blowing your loads yet.

Boom-boom, in and out.

- Ed: Are you alone? - What do you think?

Get your candy ass in here, then!

You must think your shit smells like a spring rain.

Walk right by me like I wasn't a person.

Next time I ask you a question, answer me.

- Got it? - Yeah.

It's mine now, motherfucker!

What do we have here, huh?

Look at you and all your finery.

Isn't he easy on the eyes?

Not really, Pop.

Give me a hand, buttercup.

Let me lead you on a trip down on memory lane.

Do him like you did last time, Dad.

Frankie: Gino, last time, Daddy had him...

- I know, because I was there. - No, you weren't, liar!

You're such an idiot! You know what I'm going to do?

I'll take you to court for slander.

- You're a law-breaking freak. - Frankie: What are you talking about?

Shut up! You're scaring him!

Show us what you got hiding under there.

- Gino, are you getting this? - Yes. I'm not stupid.

A little more.

Shut that goddamn thing off!

I think somebody was fuzzy with the instructions.

What were you thinking when you got dressed?

You're here for me tonight.

Did that slip by you? Are you brain damaged?

Turn it on. Don't miss one second of this.

High and hard until we beat the shit out of him.

High and hard. No other way with a fuck like this.

Ed: You treat him...

- Gino: Don't shoot. - (gun clicks)

Gino: We're sorry.

Oh God.

Is that the game we're playing?

You try to kill my boys, my flesh and blood?

As it stands, you've got the hardest night of your life ahead of you.

I hope you watched the sun rise this morning,

- 'cause it was your last chance. - Suck it!

Want me to shoot him?

Let me fucking shoot him, Daddy!

How does it feel? You know what's coming?

Don't fool with that thing. Dad, tell him to put it down.

Shut up, chicken-shit!

Cut it out! Dad, he's gonna hurt somebody.

Ed: Frankie, listen to your brother and put the gun away!

Frankie?

Frankie?

Frankie! You'll be all right.

Just a couple of stitches you'll need.

Frankie.

Listen to your dad!

Why did you do that to my brother?

My brother! You fucking, fuckhead!

You fucking pervert!

(kno cking)

Bum: I got your man. I want some money!

Syd, get up!

I fucked up. We're going to get caught.

- What were we thinking? - Stop it. You didn't fuck up.

- Yes, I did! - You didn't! We won't get caught!

Get into the car and out of here, all right?

- Get out of here! - What about you?

I'll meet you back at the house. Go!

All right. You caught me.

Now what are you gonna do? Shoot me?

Go ahead, you piece of shit. Do it.

It doesn't matter anyway. You're finished, fuck-face!

Finished! You're a murderer now.

You killed my boys. You're going to prison. I have proof.

You don't have it in you anyway.

You're shaking. Even in this light I can see it.

You're scared. Just lie down and take it.

I know you haven't got the guts.

So do you.

Not like this.

By this fuck.

Goddamn you, fuck-face!

Fuck you!

Kids: Flappy! Flappy!

Get down!

Well, once again, injustice KO'd by Flappy,

of Flappy Funhouse fame and our Special Girl Friday, Bella.

- Let's have a big round of applause! - (kids cheer and applaud)

And let's have a bigger round of good-natured boos

for our purveyors of quite a bit of nastiness

around Flappy's Funhouse.

Our criminal clown brigade!

- Thanks, Bella. - Ow!

Now, that's all the time we have for today, kids.

Don't be like these guys. Stay in school,

and take care of yourselves. 'Cause you know what?

Kids: You're the only you you've got.

And I'm not clowning around.

# Kids, don't feel down, 'cause guess who's in town? #

# You know who's around? Flappy the clown #

# If you feel blue, he'll smile for you #

# He knows what to do, flappin' at you #

# When you're not sure if you'll see the light of day #

# He'll make you smile and play with you, he does it every day #

# Hey! Kids, don't feel down, 'cause guess who's in town? #

# You know who's around? Flappy the clown #

# Kids, don't feel down, 'cause guess who's in town? #

# You know who's around? Flappy the clown #

# If you feel blue he'll smile for you #

# He knows what to do, flappin' at you #

# When you're not sure if you'll see the light of day #

# He'll make you smile and play with you, he does it every day #

# Hey! #

# Kids, don't feel down, guess who's in town? #

# You know who's around? Flappy the clown #

# If you feel blue, he'll smile for you #

# He knows what to do, flappin' at you #

# So when you're not sure if you'll see the light of day #

# He'll make you smile and play with you, he does it every day #

# Hey! Kids, don't feel down, 'cause guess who's in town? #

# You know who's around? Flappy the clown #

# Hey! Kids don't feel down, 'cause guess who's in town? #

# You know who's around? Flappy the clown. #