Original subtitles

(dramatic music)

Downloaded from YTS.BZ

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(traffic whirring)

(sirens blare)

Okay, ready?

(customers chattering) (upbeat rock music)

We're long overdue for extinction.

10 miles directly under your ass,

there's a spiderweb of fault lines.

We're talking an 8.2 fucking earthquake.

That's a Cal Tech fact.

(chuckles) That's really interesting,

but are we gonna do this thing?

People can't take apocalypse, I can, know why?

Actualization, visualization.

I got the golden needle, no fear.

Are you trying to fake us out or what?

You're doing a good job.

(upbeat rock music)

Shall we get it on?

When I'm fucking ready!

I'm ready.

My boy here will

go with you to the head and trade off.

I'll wait here with little Mary Poppins.

No, uh-huh.

No, no, no, I think we'd rather do it right here.

We can't do it here.

Why not, I mean,

who's gonna see us, Flo the waitress?

Fuck it.

Okay, dammit, let's do it.

In the toilet, on the roof, I don't give a fuck.

Let's just do it.

- Come on, give it to me. - No.

- Give it, give it to me. - No!

(customers chattering) (upbeat rock music)

I could use a smoke myself.

The tension, you know.

Maybe they got a machine.

You have the cash?

I'll show you mine if you show me yours.

You gotta be crazy to get involved in something like this.

I know who your father is.

I don't know what the fuck you're talking about.

Wait a minute, where are you going?

Whoa, man, is this a party or what?

It's good, huh? Yeah.

It's good, not bad.

All right.

Wait, wait, wait, hey, man.

I wanna count it first.

Fuck!

(upbeat rock music)

(engine whirring)

(laughs) Follow your nose!

Wa-hoo!

All right, all right!

Ya-hoo! (hammer clicks)

Don't move!

Give me my fucking dope back, Nelson!

Alex!

(tires screech) (gun fires)

(glass shatters)

(horn blares)

(car crashes)

(alarm wailing)

(dramatic music)

(groans)

Let's go, let's go!

(gun firing)

You're a dead man, you fuck!

(gun firing)

Fuck!

[Bebe] The keys!

(keys jangle)

(engine whirring)

(sirens blaring)

(gate clattering)

(soft music)

Michael.

John.

I'm glad you could come on such short notice.

How long's it been, three years?

Four, actually.

Is that right?

You want a drink?

No, thanks.

You remember Shaggy, don't ya?

Yeah, how's it going Shaggy?

(pills rattle)

Antidepressant, you want one?

They'll blow the fog right out of your head.

No, thanks, I kinda quit the recreational drug thing.

[John] Good man.

I was sorry to hear about your wife.

How's the investigation going?

Well I'm not supposed to discuss the case.

Then again, there's nothing to discuss.

The cops haven't come up with a single lead.

So, how's the house painting racket?

Oh, it's great.

Actually, we've been doing

a lot of work in the valley since the earthquake.

I thought you were going out on your own.

Well, I haven't go that together yet.

You never could follow through, could ya?

Sit.

So what, uh,

you wanna give me a pep talk?

Is that why you asked me to come here?

Bebe showed up.

Where?

Somewhere down in Baja.

According to the return address.

What'd she say?

"Dear Dad, send me 10 grand.

"I'll explain later.

"Bebe."

(chuckles) Sounds to me like you need a detective.

I don't know a detective.

Well try the phone book.

Look, Michael, it's not as though

I haven't thought about this.

Bebe is stubborn.

I thought you could go down there

and talk some sense into her.

After all, she did love you.

Once.

When you find Bebe,

tell here I said, "Hello."

[John] Michael.

If I were you, I'd move fast.

Bebe has a way of disappearing, you know.

Even as a kid, she was a funny girl.

Listen, Michael,

Bebe's been on a downward spiral

ever since her mother was murdered.

You don't owe me anything.

I mean, come on, who are we kidding?

We were never very close.

I just thought that you'd wanna do it for her.

But you've suffered enough all ready.

(bright music)

(sighs)

[Spanish] - Declaration?

- Yeah.

(bright music)

(seagulls squawk)

(phone rings)

(pens scrapes)

(keys jangle) Enjoy your stay, Mr. Hart.

Thanks.

Could, um, could you spare a cigarette?

[Spanish] With.

Thank you.

- Mr. Hart. (lighter clicks)

- Oh, no thanks, I quit a couple months ago.

I just like to chew on 'em.

(lighter clacks)

(lobby chatter)

(soft music)

(seagulls squawk)

- Bebe!

Bebe, baby, can you get me another beer?

You're closer to the fridge.

(door thuds)

Baby, did you get the beer?

- We're all out.

- Fuck.

- Here.

I mean, how short do you want this?

- Short.

Short, like my patience.

- Yeah, next time you find someone

to forge our passports.

- Uh-huh, and they're gonna be ready tomorrow, right?

[Spanish] Tomorrow, tomorrow.

- Shut up and lean forward.

Alex, I really wish you'd get rid of these things.

- Whoa, whoa, these protect me.

See this thing, this scapular.

This priest gave it to me,

he said, "if you die with this on,

"you'll go straight to heaven."

See, that's what the Virgin Mary

promised Saint Simon Stock.

This guy right here.

- Alex. - Yeah?

You're such a moron.

What the fuck is your problem?

It's not like I'm asking you to pray with me or anything.

Even though maybe you should.

Oh, yeah, why should I?

I don't know, maybe you wanna go to heaven too.

I'm not so sure that they lead murderers into heaven.

Hey, that is for God to decide, okay?

Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that.

Not you.

I don't know, maybe we'll just ask your mom

to put in a good word with the man upstairs.

You know what I mean? (scissors clack)

You know, maybe she could pull, fuck.

Baby, I'm sorry, I'm just joking.

You need to skip the shave today, all right?

Baby, I'm kidding, I'm joking, it was a bad joke.

Your mother's a beautiful person.

I'm sorry, I fucked up,

- I was just joking. - You're such an asshole!

Dammit, I'm sorry!

I'm just uptight, I wanna get the fuck outta here

and get to Venezuela.

Hey, baby, what about the haircut?

Do it yourself.

(door thuds) Fuck.

(plane buzzing)

(gentle music)

Honey, it doesn't look like there's anything here.

That's why they call it a resort hotel.

You wanted to spend our honeymoon at a resort, right?

Yeah.

Hey, relax, let's get a picture.

- Yeah. - Great.

- Do you mind? - Yes, I do.

You fucking asshole.

- [Woman] Honey-- - [Man] Can you believe this guy?

- [Man] I got a mind-- - [Woman] Let it go, honey.

We're here to have fun, right?

(bright music)

It's hot.

(laughs)

I say, 'it's hot."

(laughs)

(Spanish) Hot. Oh, god.

Now that's a boil.

(laughs) Oh, God.

You oughta get somebody to pop that for ya, Poncho.

(laughs) Welcome to Mexico.

Ah, God.

(bright music)

[Spanish] Thank you.

[Spanish] Hi.

I understand that it's possible to get mail here.

[Spanish] I don't understand.

Uh, [Broken Spanish]: I understand that... to get mail.

To get cards?

- [Spanish] Yes. - Yes, okay, good.

Then I believe that this woman gets her mail here.

[Broken Spanish] This woman gets mail here?

I don't know nothing.

I don't know nothing.

Okay.

All right, well then just,

I'll have a Coke then.

Jarritos.

- Huh? - Jarritos.

Oh, yeah, that's fine.

(chickens cluck)

Fuck.

Ah, good afternoon.

[Burns] How are you?

Well, I'm fine, thank you.

Please sign in.

All right.

What is your preferred credit card, sir?

[Burns] For what?

For the incidentals.

There is nothing incidental about me.

All right, there you go.

How long will you be staying, Mr. Burns?

I don't know, what do you got a grape pickers convention

booked in here, Poncho?

[Manager] Excuse me, sir, sir--

You gotta a package for me?

Burns!

Here you are, Mr. Burns.

[Burns] Thank you.

Sir, we have some very excellent fishing here.

If you'd like me to, I could charter you a boat.

Are you trying to hustle me, Poncho?

Huh?

I like to make my own arrangements.

Can we get that straight between us?

[Spanish] Yes, sir.

Good.

(bright music)

Hi, darling, it's me.

No, I know we agreed,

but I was just up the top

of the Empire State Building

like when we were first married.

So, logically, I called you.

I know we agreed.

Hey, be reasonable, Susan.

Come on, we've been married 12 years.

You can't expect me to just disappear.

(magazine clacks)

(sighs)

Now listen, have you had the guy out

to look at the garage door?

No, no, I don't care

that I'm not gonna be living there.

I want you to get that garage door fixed.

You can't park out on the street.

At night, it's dangerous.

Come on.

Okay, okay, I know you need your fucking space.

You gotta find yourself.

I'll call you tomorrow.

Okay.

Fine, baby, fine.

But I'm warning ya, get the garage door fixed.

(bright music)

[Spanish] Don't be a jerk. Help. Help. I'm tired.

Hi, sorry, excuse me.

Can you just tell me if you recognize

- No, no, no, no. - the woman in that

- photograph? - No, no, no, no.

Maybe this is a better,

- No. - a better photo, sir?

No.

Okay.

Oh, man.

- (bell chimes) - (gentle music)

You wanted to see me?

Yeah, yeah.

There's a gringo in town, he's new, okay?

He's asking questions about me.

So I want you to find out who he is

and what he wants, okay?

I'm glad to help

because friends help friends, right?

Right, shh.

That's right, friends help friends

like I told you.

So if you do a good job on this one, Shorty,

then when you go up to El Norte, I'll help you.

- Okay. - All right,

so tomorrow... [Spanish] tomorrow, in the morning.

Same time, same place, here, okay?

You come back, you tell me what you know.

All right.

Okay, so go.

Go, go.

(bright music)

Hi, um, scotch rocks, please.

[Bartender-- Spanish] Very good.

I'll have another one too.

[Bartender-- Spanish] Another tequila.

A clean glass this time.

[Bartender-- Spanish] Certainly.

[Michael-- Spanish] Thanks.

So what brings you to this pisshole?

I'm a writer.

Ah.

Fiction?

Yeah.

Oh, I'm a voracious reader myself,

but I haven't found any contemporary shit

I give a damn about.

Except for maybe Carver.

I'm not familiar with his work.

"Will You Please Be Quiet, Please?"

That's the title, Raymond Carver.

Not the peanut guy.

You are a bit out of touch.

Yeah, so I've been told.

(sighs)

I'm gonna turn in.

Let me buy you a drink.

No, thanks, I think I got sunstroke or something.

What about these rooms, man?

It makes you wanna leave your brains on the ceiling.

(laughs) Yes.

Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya!

(laughs)

Uh, fuck me.

Good night.

Be well.

Okay.

Give me another one.

(dial pad beeps)

(phone rings)

John, it's Michael.

Yeah, I'm here but she's not.

I found the place where she told you

to send the money.

It's just some sort of bar.

The guy there wasn't very helpful.

Michael, you just got there.

You gotta be a little patient.

[Michael] I told you, you should have gotten a detective.

I'm worthless down here.

Bullshit.

You just have wait her out, Michael.

If she needs cash as bad as she says she does,

she'll show up.

Just, uh, just stay put.

Michael?

Yeah.

Try and get some rest.

(dial tone rings)

(sighs)

(phone slams)

Dammit.

(clock chimes)

(bar chatter) (drink pours)

It's starting to look like

we're on a collision course.

Like we're in some cheap Elmore Leonard crime novel,

where at the end we're gonna eventually trade personalities.

Right, well, I can safely assure you

that I wouldn't allow that to happen.

(laughs) Touche.

I'm in retail therapy, look at this.

57 for it, one size fits all. (laughs)

(door squeaks)

I know, I look crazy, buddy.

So how you feeling?

Excuse me?

Your sunstroke.

Oh, uh, great, fine.

[Spanish] A pack of cigarettes.

Oh, I wouldn't be drinking that, man.

They make it with tap water

and by tonight you're gonna have the shits.

Yeah, and if I don't drink it,

I won't be able to shit at all.

A paradox.

Precisely.

While you take care of your bowels,

I'm gonna get us a real drink.

(bar Chatter)

Tequila.

(bar chatter)

We can get back to our symposium.

Where were we?

Literature.

(chuckles) Do you know a writer,

a novelist in L.A. named Kate Raven?

Nope, never heard of her.

Well that kind of exhausts literature.

That leaves us sports and women.

Do you like women? (door creaks)

Do you mean am I gay?

No, no, no, no, man.

I mean, do you like women?

A lot of guys don't, you know.

What do you like about 'em?

You know, I never really thought

about that, actually.

I see, you never thought about it.

No.

You don't do a lot of thinking for a writer, do you?

Well, (chuckles)

Let me tell you what I like about 'em.

When I'm around 'em, they put me in touch with my

softer side.

(both laugh)

Yeah, I know.

You're full of shit.

That's, that's, that's the truth.

No, I mean you're full of shit, period.

Have I offended you in some way?

Not at all.

(both laugh)

- Salute. - Salute.

(grunts)

Where the fuck is this guy?

He said he'd be here.

Yeah, like an hour ago.

(chuckles)

What?

What are you being so smug about?

I was just, I was wondering how much of an advance

you gave him for the passport, that's all.

Don't be stupid, I didn't give him anything.

Well good because the dude's not coming.

Well you know, Alex,

if you hadn't shot that guy,

then we wouldn't need passports

and we wouldn't be here.

Will you shut the fuck up about that!

Shut the fuck up!

It was an accident, I told you!

I brought the gun for safety!

I wanted to scare him!

We went out back, I had him scared,

I had the fucking dope back and you fucked it up!

"Alex!"

If you hadn't of fucked up, we'd be fine!

We wouldn't be in the shithole!

I took care of shit!

I got us the van, I got us the trailer!

This is fucking man's job!

Everything you try, you fuck up!

I got it under control!

(sighs) Oh, fuck.

Fuck.

(gentle music)

So what do you wanna do now?

Let's go see if my dad sent the money.

Okay, we'll get the money and then I got a plan.

Get the money, good.

Let's see if he's got the money.

If we got the money then we're cool,

and we can take care of the passports.

I got it, I got a plan.

Under control.

(engine whirring)

In Peru, the Indian's make a drink called masato.

It's made out of yuca.

The women chew it up and then they spit in this vat.

And this mixture of the saliva, you know, ferments it.

- Oh. - That must be

a hell of a drink, man.

Like a drinking a spit bucket after a championship fight.

Yeah.

(gentle music)

(door creaks)

- Hi. - Hello.

Can you tell me if there's any mail for me?

Nothing.

Whoa, that's a big fucking surprise.

Shut up, Alex.

Hey, um, excuse me, sir.

Can I have a tequila, please?

[Spanish] A double. Please.

(coins jangle)

Well, I guess maybe Daddy was just too busy.

(pool balls clack)

Thank you.

All right, let's go.

(door creaks)

Hey, pretty girl.

Yeah.

I hate this fucking place!

Yeah, well maybe next time you'll think twice

before you go and blow some guy's head off.

You know, fuck that guy!

I would shoot him again right now

and that bald ass fuckin' Nelson.

Sure you would.

How the fuck are we supposed to get out of here

without money, without passports?

Look, Alex, maybe the guy just got his time's mixed up.

Maybe he's in jail, I don't know.

This country's a nightmare of disorganization!

You can't trust the criminals,

their cigarettes taste like shit!

Okay, Alex, okay,

- you're obviously gonna spend - Fuck!

All day blaming me for this,

so I'm just gonna walk back.

- Get in the fucking van. - Now there's a couple

on the rocks.

(car door thuds)

It sure seems that way, doesn't it?

Bebe, get in the, Bebe, get in the fucking van.

Bebe, get in the van now.

I'm not gonna tell you again.

No, you're not.

(door slams)

Bebe!

Fuck!

Bebe, Bebe, come on!

Come on, baby, come on.

Come on, sweetheart, come on.

Get in the van.

Come on, baby.

Bebe, please, baby?

Bebe, I'm sorry.

I know I can be a dick.

Bebe.

Bebe, baby, Bebe, Bebe.

Well fuck you too!

Have it your way, bitch, walk!

Fuck!

I think it's siesta time for me.

Yeah, I oughta go too.

I think I'll stay here and do

a little Malcolm Lowry "Under the Volcano."

Thanks for the drink.

You ain't no writer, you're a spider.

(gentle music)

What the hell are you doing here?

What do you think I'm doing here?

Are you looking for me or what?

Jesus, Bebe.

You look like some sort of fallen angel in all of this.

Who's that guy you were with?

I don't know, he's just some crazy tourist.

Relax.

Have a cigarette, Bebe.

I quit, you know.

Well hooray for you.

Why are you here, Michael?

Your father sent me.

Oh, you're a detective now?

No, he told me where you were.

What is he paying you?

No.

(chickens cluck)

Okay, well you found me, so see you around.

You could have at least said goodbye, you know.

Okay, well I'll say it now.

Goodbye, Michael.

Go home, huh.

It's dangerous here.

(bright music)

Now this is familiar.

(birds squawk)

- My friend. - Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Here you go, here, here.

- No, I don't want your money. - Come on.

Only to talk.

Aye-yai-yai.

Tell me something, Poncho.

What do we have to talk about?

I like to talk to Americanos.

I hope to go there soon.

(laughs) Oh, that's just what we need.

Allow me to buy you a drink.

Oh, now you said the magic word.

But let's go someplace different.

I wanna soak up the local color.

I know a little place not far from here.

Oh, good.

Lead the way, Poncho, lead the way.

(laughs)

(bright music)

Oh, God.

Alex, I have been with a bunch of messed up guys,

but your are definitely the worst.

Did you really just wanna talk to me?

[Spanish] Yes.

'Cause I gotta admit, when you first approached me,

I thought, I got a little nervous.

Well, I figured you were gonna rob me.

You look like a tough guy.

(laughs) I'm right, aren't I?

You know how to handle yourself.

When I have to.

You see that, I got a great shit detector, man.

You got kids?

Three kids, one son.

Jeez, I love kids.

You carry a gun?

No, but I know where to get one.

Well that's just as good, ain't it?

(laughs) I got one.

Let me ask you a question.

Do you by any chance know a guy

by the name of Alex?

Please, what have I done?

No, no, no, no.

Where does he live?

Where can I find him?

I don't know, he has never let me go there.

Come on, man.

We usually meet at the church,

just up the road there.

When will you see him next?

Tomorrow morning, 10 a.m.

Does he have a gun? - Yes, yes, he does.

Too bad.

You know something?

A real professional never talks.

And if he does, he lies.

You comprehende?

You have my word, I will not say that we have spoken.

Uh, no, no, you're a bit

of a bullshitter, Poncho. (gun fires)

(groans)

Mister, please, I'm sorry!

(guns fires)

Oh, yeah.

(gentle music)

(gun firing) (water splashing)

(ducks quack)

(gun fires)

(gun fires) (water splashes)

(bullets click)

(gun fires) (glass cracks)

(birds squawking)

You've gotten pretty good at disappearing, Bebe.

Not like that first time in Madrid.

You were still a little bit rusty then.

You even left me a note, that was sweet.

You probably wouldn't bother to do that now, huh?

Michael, I told you,

you're not safe here.

Well that's you, Bebe, you do danger so well.

You think so?

You seem a little hostile.

Well who's fault is that?

I don't know, Bebe, you left me, remember?

Yeah, but you could have at least gone after me.

Maybe sent me a postcard.

Oh, Bebe, please.

You're good at sending postcards,

aren't you, Michael?

You know, you're crazy, you know that?

Don't call me crazy!

You know I hate when you do that.

Okay, okay.

So why'd you send it, Michael?

You know all this already.

Do we have to go through it again?

- Yes. - Fine.

It was just before dawn, I couldn't sleep,

and I didn't wanna wake you so

I went to the cafe across the street from the hotel.

I had a cup of coffee.

And I thought I'd go reserve our box at the bullfights,

so I went there and on my way,

I see this old man and he's selling postcards.

And he's got a wooden leg,

so I bought a postcard 'cause I felt sorry for him.

That's touching,

but I don't think I asked you how you acquired it,

or maybe you didn't understand the question.

No, I understood the question, Bebe.

Why did you send it to her?

Her of all people!

Bebe, it was just a postcard.

Let's try and remember that, please.

Yeah, but you put a return address on it,

and who puts a return address on a fucking postcard?

You wanted to hear from her.

You missed her.

Why don't you just admit it?

You've never gotten over her. - Bebe, that's--

I don't wanna talk about it.

You had no right to come here, Michael.

Oh, I had no right?

I had no right?

We are still legally married, Bebe, you know.

(scoffs)

Oh, that's great, this is great.

Isn't it great how we can just pick up

right where we left off?

Mm.

Oh, Bebe, I'll be at the hotel through tomorrow

if you change your mind.

I won't.

You know. (hammer clicks)

(gentle music)

Michael.

If it makes you feel any better,

I'd still leave you a note.

(gentle music)

Bebe.

Bebe!

(bottle clinks)

Bebe!

Bebe, baby.

What you doin'?

A little target practice.

Give me that thing.

- Are you okay? - Yeah.

Hey, I'm sorry we fought.

Me too.

I just had the weirdest nightmare.

- Oh, really? - Mm.

Dreamt I had blood all over my hands,

and I couldn't, I was trying,

I couldn't wash it off and it was--

And what on earth could that mean?

Fuck if I know.

Susan, darling, it's me.

Pick up the phone if you're there.

Pick up the phone, I really need to talk to you.

It's been a very bad day.

Look, I've been thinking,

I know I've been drinking more than I should.

I really wanna work this out.

I really do.

I'm gonna call ya tomorrow, okay darling?

I love you. (machine beeps)

(gentle music)

Jesus.

What the fuck are you looking at?

(gun fires)

Shit.

(bright music)

(woman laughing)

- [Spanish] Hey, handsome. - Mr. Burns.

Mr. Burns!

I'm afraid we cannot allow such guests in our hotel.

You calling this girl a whore?

Wait, wait, wait.

Did I hear what I heard?

Are you making my arrangements for me again, Poncho, huh?

You don't wanna piss me off.

Sir, just allow me

to bring you the best champagne to your room,

for you and the lady.

That's good.

Get me something to munch on too, will ya?

[Spanish] Yes, sir.

Here, for you.

(knocking on door)

(whimsical music)

(sighs)

(laughs)

(door creaks)

Hey, where you been?

I thought you flushed yourself down the toilet.

(laughs)

Your strawberry tipped cones of hot desire.

(whimsical music)

Pop the bra, babe.

(laughs)

Ah, come here.

(smacking lips)

(snaps fingers)

(both moaning)

(woman groans) Oh, yes. (groans)

Bebe.

(both moan)

(both grunt)

(moans)

(grunts) Oh, baby!

(moans)

- Yes, yes! - [Spanish] Careful, bastard.

(both moan)

It's no Susan.

(moans)

Here's your half, what's your hurry?

Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

You climbed your way to an extra hundred bucks, here.

Come on.

Come on, I gotta make a phone call.

I need some privacy, okay?

Come on, beat it!

(gentle music)

No.

(coughs)

Look at that lamp.

Yeah, what about it?

Doesn't it remind you of the one

in the hotel in Madrid?

No, Bebe, this ain't Madrid.

No, I'd bet we'd still be there

if you hadn't sent that postcard.

Michael, you really messed up a good thing.

Forget it, I don't wanna talk about it.

Well I suppose now you're in

a much healthier relationship.

And what would you know about healthy?

Oh, I forgot, you quit smoking.

Who is he?

His name's Alex.

What else do you wanna know?

Well how do you know him?

He worked for my dad moving cash.

Oh, well that's good, he's got a job.

You know when Mom died, I tried to kill myself.

Dad had them pump my stomach,

and then he just left me there in the hospital.

Then Alex started coming around, seeing how I was doing.

Well he's a sensitive guy.

Yeah, you can make your jokes,

but you know he was the only person

who cared if I lived or if I died.

(gentle music)

He helped me to see a future.

And this is it, huh?

What's going on Bebe?

Alex and I tried to make some quick money in a drug deal

and it got all screwed up,

and Alex killed on of the guys.

- (sighs) Wow. - Uh-huh.

They're probably looking for us right now.

You just, you gotta walk away, Bebe.

You just gotta walk away.

Alex didn't, did he?

Ooh, licking the Virgin Mary. (chuckles)

So you're really not gonna ask me

what's going on at home?

All right then, how's Shaggy?

Shaggy's fine.

It's your father.

He's been doing a lot of medicating.

(scoffs) Yeah, he's just trying

to drown out his conscience.

That's all he's doing.

Well you didn't hate him enough

to write him and ask him for money, did you?

Well it's not his money, is it?

It belongs to some insurance company.

You mother's insurance?

Well, he said the investigation

isn't turning up anything new.

And it never will.

He's way too smart for that.

Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute.

What are you telling me, that your father

had something to do with your mother's murder?

Yes, Michael.

That's what I'm trying to tell you.

Explain that to me, please.

(sighs) Forget about it.

It doesn't matter.

Mom's still dead.

I gotta get back.

Alex was passed out drunk when I left

but even he sobers up now and then.

(gentle music)

I guess I know better than to try and change your mind

once it's made up.

I guess you know a few things about me.

I love you.

I know.

So what do you think?

Think about me sometimes, huh?

Write me a postcard.

(engine whirring)

I love you, goddammit, I do.

You're all I got left.

Now it's you and me.

(phone rings)

Speak.

[Michael] It's Michael.

Michael, Shaggy was just talking about you.

What have you got for us?

I found her.

And have you talked to her?

Yeah, we talked,

but she's not coming back.

She has this crazy idea that you tried to kill her mother.

Well it should be obvious to you by now

that Bebe is a confused individual.

[Michael] Did you?

Excuse me?

I said, "Did you?"

Are you accusing me of killing my wife?

No, I'm asking you.

Point blank.

Michael, don't be absurd.

[Michael] Then deny it.

Why should I?

You can or you won't?

I'm gonna hang up now, Michael.

Wait a,

(phone beeps) wait a minute,

wait a minute. (dial tone rings)

(ominous music)

Mike, Mike, hey!

Come here.

Come here.

Can I ask you somethin'?

I'm glad I ran into you, man.

Listen, a bartender told me

about a speakeasy in a farmhouse.

- Mm. - No, listen.

This old bag makes her own tequila.

They say it's crazy stuff.

The locals swear by it.

You wanna give it a whirl?

Come on, it's on me. (coins jangle)

(chuckles)

Come on.

- All right, all right. - Hey.

Hurry it up.

(bright music)

(door thuds)

[Alex] Where were you?

I went out to look for the guy with the passports.

You're a fucking liar.

The money's still in the drawer.

Where were you?

I was with someone, okay?

With someone?

You mean you fucked someone?

(sighs)

You did, didn't you?

Who was it?

Was it Shorty?

Shorty?

At least credit me with some taste.

Was it some gringo tourist you met in a bar?

Are you fucking crazy?

It's probably one of Nelson's guys!

It wasn't.

Who was it?

Who was it?

Alex, let me just make you some coffee, okay?

I don't want coffee!

I wanna know who it was!

I'm just gonna talk to you about this

when you can stand up.

Don't worry 'cause when I find this motherfucker,

I'm gonna kill him.

(door clacks)

(water trickling)

Okay, we got problems.

No big deal, problems.

(customers chattering)

Fuck me.

(both laugh)

- Come on, come on. - No.

No.

Don't be a pussy.

A twat.

(laughs) I knew that would get you, baby.

Yeah.

Yes.

I shouldn't be doing this.

- Salute. - Salute.

Oh, oh.

Yes, yes! (Michael coughs)

(both laugh)

Oh, Jesus.

(laughs)

Is my face as red as yours?

(both laugh)

This shit's strong.

I took mescaline once.

When I was a teenager, it felt just like this.

- Spooky.

I really screwed up with my wife.

- Yeah. - Oh, yeah.

How's that?

One night a couple of weeks ago we were in bed.

She says, "if I were die, will you remarry?"

And I'm half asleep and I say,

"Of course, if that was so."

And she says, "Well, would you sleep in this bed?"

And I say, "It's the only bed in the house,

"I guess I would."

She says, "Will you make love to her in this bed?"

And I say, "We'll be married, for Chrissake, won't we?"

"Will you go to sleep?"

And she's quiet for a while and I'm drifting off,

and she says, "Would you let her drive my Miata?"

And I said, like a fucking idiot,

"She doesn't drive stick shift."

(both laugh)

There is a parable here.

"You can be very weak or very strong,

"but they always nail you when you're in transition."

A very great man told me that once.

(sighs)

(gentle music)

I got, um, I got woman problems too.

Yeah, well, but you got your writing to fall back on.

Are you gonna spew?

(laughs)

(ominous music)

It ain't a beeper, buster.

(blows in bottle)

I wanna know something honestly.

Are you a writer?

Yeah.

I thought not.

(scoffs) What do you do?

I prefer not to talk about it.

(chicken clucks)

(sighs) (glasses clink)

Chicken feed.

Let's hit the road.

(ominous music)

Mm-hmm.

(chuckles)

(sighs)

(groans)

These goddamn mariachis are killing me.

You're very kind.

Very kind.

(groans)

(coughs)

(toilet flushes) Oh, man.

(keys jangle)

(gentle music)

Sloppy.

Really sloppy, Tom.

Ah, shit.

(bright music)

Michael, what are you doing here?

I'm taking you home.

You're crazy.

Nope, just a little hungover.

All right, I'll make you some coffee.

Bebe, you were right.

Huh?

Remember that crazy tourist guy that you saw me with?

Yeah.

He's got a gun.

Michael, are you fucking with me?

He's probably here to kill Alex

but maybe you too.

(bell rings)

(baby cries) Mm.

Oh, what a hangover, oi.

Forgive me Father for I have sinned.

(gentle music)

I was involved

in the killing of a woman.

Hmm.

Some time ago.

I never have told anyone about it.

Not a single soul and,

and the secret's killing me.

I'm sorry, God.

God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, forgive me.

Amen.

(bell chimes) (baby cries)

(grunts)

(ominous music)

- Oh, Jesus, go be with him.

(Alex gasps)

For Christ sake!

(gun firing) (group chattering)

Uh, sorry, babe.

(gun firing)

Missed.

(group chattering)

(dramatic music)

(whistle blows)

[Spanish] Stop. Don't Move.

(guns firing)

(sirens wailing)

(dramatic music)

(gun fires)

That's for the suit.

(whimsical music)

Cheap shit.

No, Michael, stop it.

No, I am not gonna leave you here to get killed.

I got drunk with this guy last night.

I saw his eyes, he's a killer, all right.

(sighs) I can't leave Alex like this.

You didn't have any trouble leaving me, did ya?

Yeah, well you brought it on yourself,

so just get over it already.

(bullets clink)

Wait a minute, what are you doing?

I'm gonna go find him.

All right, look, where's Alex now?

I don't know, he was so angry at me, he wouldn't say,

but I think he went to church.

He knows we were together last night.

Oh, that's great.

Well you know I've never been any good at lying.

(barrel clicks)

Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute, hold on.

Look, just promise me one thing,

that you'll just stay here.

I'll go find Alex, I'll warn him, all right?

You promise you'll find him?

I promise.

All right. Okay.

Listen, Michael, I want you to know something.

Just because of what happened last night,

doesn't mean a thing.

(gentle music)

(door thuds)

Hey Michael, take the gun.

Bebe, I don't want a gun.

Here, take it.

Just promise me one thing, all right?

You won't use it on Alex.

Here.

Oh, boy.

Alex.

Hey, why did you just say that?

What, don't shoot Alex?

Don't shoot Alex, yeah.

You want me to shoot him, don't you?

Oh, God. Subconsciously.

You're just as paranoid as he is.

I don't know.

Be careful, okay?

(engine whirring)

Pick up the phone.

Pick up the phone, Susan.

I'm still here.

You can't treat me like a piece of shit, you know.

You wanna treat me like a piece of shit?

Listen to me, if you don't pick up the phone,

I'm not calling you again, never, not ever!

Not ever!

Fuck you.

Fuck you.

(whimsical music)

[Man] So, it's a shitty honeymoon, okay.

Maybe it will be better next time.

[Woman] What is that supposed to mean?

You figure it out.

You're the one with the master's degree in psychology.

You are so cheap!

(chuckles) Oh, so now I'm cheap.

What other little terms of endearment do you have for me?

(gun whacks against head)

Fuck wad.

[Spanish] We're looking for a man who is staying here.

(suspenseful music)

[Spanish] Yesterday I saw someone but I'm not sure...

(dramatic music)

(crowd chatter)

(door creaks)

Alex, what happened?

What happened?

Surprised to see me, huh?

Please tell me what happened.

Someone tried to kill me. (cries)

What?

Oh, God.

Who was it, you're fucking boyfriend, huh?

Alex please calm down. - You fuck him

but you can't fuck me?

- Alex. - What am I your

fucking brother but I can't be your fucking lover?

- Alex, just please, - Huh?

- Please calm down. - Do you love him

or do you love me?

How can you love me?

I hate myself. (sobs)

You wanna see me dead?

Is that it, you wanna see me dead, huh?

- Alex. - You wanna--

- Alex. (fist whacks against face)

- You fuck with me? (hand whacks against face)

- You fuck with me? - Alex,

just look what you're doing!

You're just afraid!

That's all, you're just afraid!

(gasps) (glass shatters)

Get up!

Bebe, get up!

Come on, quit fucking around!

Bebe!

I'll get you to a...

Fuck, I'll get you to a...

Get up, Bebe, come on.

Get up.

Bebe!

(ominous music)

Where's Bebe?

Huh?

Hey, man, I don't know.

Bebe!

What time is it?

(gun firing)

Shit.

(bullets patter)

(barrel clicks)

(bullets clink)

Smokes.

Come on, get up! - No, Alex, I can't!

- Get up! - I can't, I can't!

[Alex] You can.

(suspenseful music)

(Bebe gasps)

What's wrong with her?

Get out of here, motherfucker.

This ain't your concern.

(gun fires)

Alex, stop shooting!

Get in there.

(gun firing)

(engine whirring)

(gun fires)

(engine whirring)

(dramatic music)

(Bebe sobs)

Shut up, Bebe, stop fucking pretending that you're hurt.

(gasps)

You'd do anything to survive, wouldn't you?

That's right.

Even sacrifice me.

This fucker is a glutton for punishment.

Alex, just please leave him out of this.

- Shut up! - Please!

(dramatic music)

(gun firing)

(glass cracks)

(tires screech) Damn it, yeah!

(ominous music)

(sobs)

What the fuck is wrong with you?

I can't see right.

I think you really hurt me.

Bebe, if you think we're going to a doctor,

you better fucking think again

'cause I'm not turning this fucking thing around.

(sobs)

Shit!

(tires screech)

Okay.

Okay.

(dramatic music)

(traffic whirring)

- [Spanish] What's up? - [Spanish] Nothin'.

(man groans)

Sorry, Poncho.

(engine whirring)

(tires screech)

(dramatic music)

I wanna see my mother!

I wanna see her!

Stop it, Bebe, you're freaking me out.

I wanna see her!

Stop it, stop it!

I wanna see her!

(gentle music) I fucked up, man.

I'm a dumb ass.

You were right.

Your father had your mother killed.

I was there.

I mean, your dad called me up,

and he said, "Alex, I got, I got a car."

I went to the lake.

You know the place, and I took this car

and I put in the lake,

but I didn't know what was in the car.

I swear, I didn't know what was in the car.

And that's before I knew you.

(sobs)

Fuck it.

I fucking feel...

God, God, this feels like a weight's been lifted.

Fuck me.

Bebe, just don't sit there,

you gotta say something, please.

Please, Bebe.

(screams) (fists thudding on body)

(dramatic music)

(tires screech)

Stop it!

(tires screech)

(van rumbles)

(suspenseful music)

(screams)

(both grunt)

(head whacks against head)

Pretty sloppy for a fucking pro, aren't you?

- I'm not the guy. - Oh, no?

My name's Michael Hart, I'm a friend of Bebe's.

I'm just here to take her home.

What did you say your name was?

Hart, Michael Hart.

That's funny, she never mentioned you.

Yeah, well actually, I'm her husband.

(dramatic music)

You're a fucking liar.

Ask her.

(fist whacks)

(gun firing)

Fuck!

Fuck.

I don't have time for this Mulberry Bush shit!

(whistling)

(dramatic music)

Oh, God.

I guess I'll have to catch you later, Michael.

(hammer clicks) Hey,

guess what?

Oh, fuck.

- Fuck. - You holding?

No.

Wrong place at the wrong time, mm-hmm?

Get outta here, Michael.

I'm a pro.

Stone sent me down here to take care of Alex.

Stone sent you? (scoffs)

I want you to fuck off, Michael.

I mean it.

(gasps)

Last chance.

Hit the road.

Next time.

(breathes heavily)

(sighs)

What am I doing?

(sighs)

(dramatic music)

(panting)

(wind whistling)

Bebe!

Bebe!

Bebe!

Michael?

Bebe!

Bebe!

Michael!

Where are you?

I'm over here!

- Again! - Over here!

Fuck you!

I'll fucking kill you when I catch you!

And you too, you bitch!

Fucking Judas.

(dramatic music)

(chuckles)

So, were you and Bebe really married once?

Years ago.

Guess it didn't work out.

You fucking prick! (gun fires)

(gun fires)

(both grunt) Fuck!

Nice try, Michael.

Maybe next time.

(gun fires) (screams)

Fuck!

Fuck, fuck!

(gasping)

(dramatic music)

Uh-uh, no.

The second time.

Who are you?

Your death.

Nah, strike that, it's too pretentious.

You see why I'm not a writer?

You get the drift.

You tell Nelson to fuck himself.

Nelson, who's Nelson?

He's the guy you're working for!

Well maybe I should bill Nelson too,

but he ain't the guy that hired me.

Hey man, you don't have to do this.

Will you be quiet, please.

Goddamn!

You got any last words?

Fuck you.

Now I'm going to God.

My scapular. Mm-hmm.

(gun fires) (screams)

Fuck.

Here you go.

Come on.

Hey, come on.

Fuck you.

Fuck you.

Suit yourself.

Boy.

Drop your gun.

You killed him.

He was a suicide, actually.

He blackmailed the wrong person.

My father, right?

(hammer clicks)

Now it's your turn.

Come on.

Don't do it, Bebe, don't do it.

(dramatic music)

You should listen to your boyfriend.

He's my husband.

Congratulations.

(somber music)

Oh, Alex.

(dial pad beeps)

(phone rings)

Yeah, it's me.

Yeah, I'm fine, fine.

Uh, a little complication is all.

I took a hit and I was forced

to drop a couple of Federales,

so we're gonna need a backdoor plan.

You think you can arrange that?

Good, yeah.

Shortly.

(somber music)

Faulkner?

Yeah.

The name's Duke.

So the fuck what?

I'll be your pilot this afternoon

to beautiful El Paso.

Uh.

Maybe I oughta treat you nicer then.

That's for you.

Let's go.

You spend much time there?

- El Paso? - Yeah.

- Some. - Well I was thinking,

maybe you could fix us up

with a couple of cowgirls tonight.

See, I've recently become single.

I'm on the prowl.

I'll see what I can do.

Hey, you got a match?

I don't smoke.

(bright music)

(dramatic music)

(bongo music)

[Spanish bullfighting music]