Original subtitles

(dramatic music)

Teacher: Okay, we've got a four-word sentence here for you.

What is it? Vanessa.

Vanessa, come on.

Vanessa: The-- the-- um-- ca-- ca--

Teacher: Meow.

Vanessa: Cat.

Teacher: Perfect, you've got it.

Now let's continue to the third word.

Vanessa: Dr-- drin--

Teacher: Think. K followed by S.

Thinks.

Vanessa: (trying to pronounce) Drinks, drinks.

Teacher: You've got it. That's it exactly.

You did it.

Perfect, perfect girl.

Vanessa: The cat drinks milk.

Chopper: All right.

Teacher: That's right very good.

Great. Great Vanessa.

Vanessa! Chopper!

Are we rewarded now?

(up-tempo music)

Ramona: Hey mister, I got my own place.

Man: M-mm. (negative)

Ramona: It's right over there in the hotel.

Man: M-mm. (negative)

Ramona: You can turn right here and just get in.

It's cooler. Then can I get in the car with you?

Man: M-mm. (negative)

Ramona: Please sir. I'll go wherever you want to go.

I'll go where ever you want to go.

Man: Move it, now. No, thank you.

Ramona: Come on sir. Sir!

Well screw you too. Fucking nigger.

Vanessa: Mom, what are you doing?

Ramona: What are you doing home so early?

Vanessa: It's not so early, Mom.

Chopper: How are you doing Ms. Lutz?

Vanessa: Don't even talk to her Chopper.

Chopper: Vanessa, I'm out of here.

Vanessa: Okay.

Ramona: Will you give your mom my regards for me?

Chopper: Will do Ms. Lutz.

Vanessa: You said you weren't going to do this no more, Mom.

Ramona: Listen, I've had enough crap from your father all day.

I'm really stressed out here.

Vanessa: Larry is not my dad.

Ramona: Listen if you're going to smartass me you can just

go on home right now.

Get out of my face right now.

Go on! Get out!

Vanessa: Fine.

Fine!

Ramona: You don't know nothing about nothing.

You don't know a goddamn thing about nothing.

(train horn)

Vanessa: Larry, just let me through.

Larry: What's the magic word?

Vanessa: Fuck you, you piece of shit.

Larry: Fuck you?

How was school?

Vanessa: Like you really fucking care.

Asshole.

Larry: Hey! Me and your momma, we spent the whole day

in line securing rent vouchers, and we can both use a little

consideration?!

Vanessa: Don't it bother you your own wife screwing

off all them strange guys for money?

Larry: I make her use mouthwash after.

Vanessa: Oh you like that minty fresh taste, huh?

Larry: You know something Vanessa Lutz?

I'm getting ready to take a seriously big shit right on top

of that pointy little head of yours.

Don't be a smartass.

Ramona: Hey motherfucker.

You want some company?

Man: Yeah.

Ramona: Let me get in.

(cartoons on TV)

TV: We interrupt this program to go live to L.A. County

Sheriff's Headquarters where a press conference is now

in progress regarding the grisly find yesterday morning along

San Diego freeway in Torrance.

Garnett: The two females have been identified as

19-year-old Tempest Mueller

of Downey and 16-year-old Corky Poindexter of Bellflower.

Both females have extensive arrest records for prostitution

and we are now considering them as victims of the individual

that we call the I-5 killer.

I'll take a few questions.

Vanessa: I happen to be watching that Larry.

Larry: Forget it.

Vanessa: You know you just don't want me hearing about

that killer out there.

Well, what if he drove up right this second and snatched

up Mom, huh?

What would you have to say then, smart guy?

Larry: (laughing) First of all, your momma would kick his ass.

And second of all, that killer is all the way up in L.A., okay?

(cartoons on TV)

Vanessa: Larry, get your goddamn hands off my anatomy.

I swear to fucking God.

Larry: What?

What are you going to do?

Vanessa: I'll tell mom.

Larry: Oh yeah, like she's really going to believe you.

Vanessa: You know I'm really not up for your shit today Larry.

In fact, I'm mad as hell at you right now.

Larry: Awe, come here.

Vanessa: Goddammit Larry!

Get your fucking hands off me.

You shithead.

Larry: Ow!

Vanessa: Fucker!

Larry: Ah! Ah! You hit hard.

Ow! Ow!

Ow!

Vanessa: You just behave.

Larry: Fuck, you hit hard.

Ramona: You know I can't help you if you don't tell me what it is

you want.

Man: Well, maybe we better just forget the whole thing.

Ramona: No.

I bet you like having your wiener sucked.

Hmm? Don't you?

Man dark car: Yeah, I guess so.

Ramona: How come that doesn't surprise me?

Man: What would a thing like that cost?

Ramona: $30.

Man: Sheriff's Department. You're under arrest.

Ramona: Let go!

Ramona: Come on guys. I didn't do anything.

I did nothing wrong.

Detective: Take it easy.

Ramona: Come on.

Detective: Where do you think you're going?

Ramona: Ow! Ow!

You're hurting me.

you're hurting my arm.

You're hurting me.

You're hurting my arm.

Ow!

Female cop: What's your name, miss?

Ramona: Ramona Lutz.

Bully.

Detective: Are you staying at this motel?

Ramona: Yeah.

I never saw that before in my life,

and that's the God's truth, sir.

Female cop: You telling me this brown residue isn't narcotics?

Ramona: It doesn't belong to me.

Cop: What is that? Speed?

You look like a speedy kind of gal.

Ramona: Oh, come on officer, please.

Listen to me, please.

My little girl's home with me now, and she just got out

of Children's Services. I can't afford to be busted again

because they'll take her away from me.

They'll just take my baby.

Female cop: You know this pipe constitutes probable cause?

We're going to have to take a look inside your motel room.

Ramona: You can't do that. My husband's asleep.

Cop #2: Your husband know you're out here soliciting?

Ramona: Oh, give us a fucking break.

Female cop: Your husband own a firearm, Ramona?

Ramona: My Larry is on parole.

He hasn't had a firearm for a long time.

Female cop: We're going to be real unhappy if you're not

telling us the truth Ramona.

Ramona: I am telling you the truth.

Female cop: Okay, come on. Let's go.

Ramona: You guys are making me wish I was dead.

You fucking--

(screaming)

Female cop: You're going to cut that out right now

or you're going to be hogtied.

Ramona: Just listen to me.

Cop #1: Shut your mouth now.

Not another word.

(moaning)

Female cop: Sheriff's Department Larry.

We need to talk to you a minute.

Larry: Hey, hey what the fuck?

Oh shit.

Female cop: Who's the girl Larry?

Ramona: Don't take my baby away.

Female cop: You diddling the daughter Larry?

Ramona: What kind of question is that?

Female cop: Get her out of here!

Larry: Hey, hey, hey.

Come on now.

She ain't my real daughter, and besides nothing's going on.

Right?

Ow! Ow!

Female cop: Just who is this man to you?

Vanessa: He's my stepfather.

Female cop: Take him into the other room, and I'll talk

to the juvenile alone.

Larry: Ow! I got a pin in my shoulder, and if you don't cuff

me in front I swear to God I'm going to sue the fucking

police department until there's no fucking tomorrow.

You son of a bitch! Ow!

Female cop: What's your name, miss?

Vanessa: Vanessa Lutz.

Female cop: Well kid, I sure don't envy your situation here.

Vanessa: My parents is just going through a hard time is all,

with the finances and everything.

Female cop: I see they got enough money left over to buy drugs.

Vanessa: I wouldn't be comfortable talking about

that sort of thing, ma'am.

Female cop: I'm going to ask you a question, okay?

Don't get upset either. It's important.

Vanessa: Okay.

Female cop: Is there some sort of sexual activity going on

between your stepfather and yourself?

Larry: (laughing) Elevator up!

Ramona: (laughing) What are you laughing at?

Larry: We are so fucked.

Ramona: Don't take my baby away.

Oh, please!

Cop: If you love her so much how come you don't clean up

around here once in a while?

Ramona: I do clean up, sir.

Larry: (laughing)

It just happens that I'm under a great deal of stress.

My sister happened to die three months ago in Washington,

and I'm trying to get of methadone.

Cop #2: You're on methadone?

Ramona: Will you please give me a cigarette?

Female cop: I told you to keep quiet.

Vanessa: Please give her a cigarette. Please.

Ramona: Are you mad at me? Honey?

Vanessa: I'm not mad, Mom.

Ramona: Please, don't be mad.

Come over here, give me a big hug.

Come on.

I ain't going to see you for a long time, baby.

Come on.

Ah, baby.

I am so sorry, pooh bear.

I'm so sorry.

You still love me?

Vanessa: I love you Momma.

Ramona: I love you more.

(crying)

Vanessa: Here.

Ramona: I love you.

Larry: (laughing)

Ramona: Ow! Okay, just tell this piece of shit to get

his knee out of my neck.

Larry: (laughing) Bye Ramona!

I love you, honey.

Ramona: I love you.

Ow! Ow! Ow!

Female cop: Watch her head.

Get her out of here.

Larry: Bye, Ramona!

Female cop: Children's Services are on their way.

Vanessa: Oh, that's just great.

Female cop: No offense kid, but anything's an improvement

over this.

What do you think we ought to do with you?

Just leave you here?

Vanessa: I could stay with you for a couple of weeks.

Female cop: Are you kidding?

Vanessa: No, I'm serious.

I mean I can do all sorts of chores

while you was out messing people up.

Female cop: We're not allowed to do things like that.

Vanessa: You're lying.

Female cop: No, I'm not.

Vanessa: Yeah, you are.

If you don't want to, all you had to do

was just say it straight out.

Female cop: I don't want to.

Vanessa: Okay, then.

Hey, Mrs. Sheets.

I guess you heard the news.

Mrs. Sheets: Hello Vanessa.

I heard you mother might be away for a while.

Vanessa: Yeah, it's her third arrest this year.

She's looking at six months mandatory.

Female cop: We're holding her stepfather on multiple parole

violations.

Mrs. Sheets: Oh, I am so sorry about all this, Vanessa.

I can take over here now, officer.

Female cop: Good luck, kid.

Vanessa: Yeah, right. Come on over and ruin

my life again real soon.

Mrs. Sheets: You don't have to be so hard on the officer.

Vanessa: She just took my whole family off to jail,

okay?

Gosh, I hate pigs so much, Mrs. Sheets.

Mrs. Sheets: Come on, now.

Let's go gather up some of your things.

Vanessa: You're putting me in foster care again, aren't you?

Mrs. Sheets: I'm willing to consider any alternative you'd

like to suggest, but I don't know.

Vanessa: My Grandma would be an alternative.

Mrs. Sheets: This is the first I've heard of any grandma.

Vanessa: Yeah, on my father's side.

My real father.

See.

She'd take me in, most likely.

Mrs. Sheets: You don't sound too sure.

Vanessa: Actually, she don't know about me yet.

Mrs. Sheets: That's not going to do us much good for tonight.

Why haven't you been in touch with her before now?

Vanessa: Because before I was born there was this bad blood

between her and my mom, and there must have been some harsh

words spoke because my mom was supposed

to have thrown this chemical

in her face that burned her skin a little bit.

Mrs. Sheets: Lovely.

Vanessa: I tried to get her on the phone once,

but she ain't listed. If I could just get up

to that Stockton place, I know I'd find her.

Mrs. Sheets: Just like that, huh?

Vanessa: Yeah.

Mrs. Sheets: Vanessa, Vanessa.

Oh, my God.

Vanessa: I know what I need.

Mrs. Sheets, could you come in here and fold up my blanket?

Mrs. Sheets: This one?

Vanessa: Yeah, that one.

Mrs. Sheets: What in the world do you want with this old thing.

Vanessa: Oh, you know, my momma gave it to me.

Mrs. Sheets: What are you doing?

Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!

Vanessa: Shit! Sorry let me get you turned around.

Mrs. Sheets: Vanessa, this is not funny.

Vanessa!

Vanessa: I'm not laughing Mrs. Sheets.

I promise.

If you yell loud enough, Mr. Wong will come set you free.

He's the day manager. And I'll leave the keys on top of the TV.

Mrs. Sheets: Vanessa, don't do this!

You come back here!

Vanessa!

(mariachi music)

(rock music)

Vanessa: Where the fuck are you, Chopper?

Chopper: Who wants some of this shit?

Get the fuck out of here.

(horn)

Vanessa: Chopper!

Chopper, we're fucked. We're totally fucked.

Just after you left, the pigs came and pinched

mom and Larry both. And my parole officer showed up

like a motherfucking plague to take me to foster care again.

Just like last time.

Chopper: So, how did you get here?

Vanessa: I cuffed her ankle to the bed.

Chopper: That wasn't very smart, Vanessa.

Vanessa: I know. I know. I know.

I'm going up north. Unless you never want to see me again,

you better get in this car right now and come with me.

Chopper: I got to be in court next week for sentencing.

If I don't show I'll get a year at Camp Gonzales for sure.

Vanessa: I guess I'm on my own.

Chopper: Where up north are you going?

Vanessa: My grandma is up in Stockton.

Chopper: You got any money?

Vanessa: No.

Chopper: Sell that when you get where you're going.

It's from Spain.

Vanessa: I love you so much, Chopper.

Chopper: I love you too, baby.

Vanessa: (moaning)

Chopper: (moaning)

Vanessa: Here, take this.

I gotta go.

(rock music)

Bye Chopper, my beloved boyfriend.

Man: Hey, pinche mayate!

(gunshots)

Chopper: (groaning)

(dramatic music)

Vanessa: Fucking car!

(indistinct) --my ass.

Goddammit.

Fuck.

Bob: You having some kind of trouble?

Vanessa: Yeah, the fucking cocksucker won't

even fucking turn over.

(sigh)

Excuse my bad language, sir.

Bob: It's all right. Mind if I take a look at it?

Vanessa: Yeah, go for it.

Bob: Why don't you get behind the wheel there

and step on the gas for me.

Bob: Try it.

Again.

Well, I hate to be the one to break the news to you,

but this car has had it.

Vanessa: I knew it was only a matter of time.

Bob: Where you headed?

Vanessa: My grandma is up in Stockton.

Bob: Well, I'm going as far as L.A.

You're more than welcome to ride with me if you like.

Vanessa: Really, mister?

Bob: Sure. Why don't you grab your stuff and let's go.

Vanessa: Thanks!

Bob: I guess we ought to call a tow truck, huh?

Vanessa: Nah, Cal Trans will take care of it.

I know my mom used to work part time for them.

So, what do I call you?

Bob: I'm sorry. My name is Bob Wolverton.

Vanessa: Hi, I'm Vanessa Lutz.

Bob: Nice to meet you, Vanessa.

Why don't you put on your safety belt and we'll get going.

Great.

Vanessa: What's this all about?

Bob: It's a psychological manual I use at my work.

I'm a counselor at a school for boys with emotional trouble.

Vanessa: Just boys, huh? No girls at all?

Bob: I'm afraid so.

So, how does your family feel about

this trip of yours up to Stockton?

Vanessa: I don't got no family just at the moment.

Bob: Vanessa, everybody's got family.

Vanessa: Shows how much you know.

Bob: You want to talk about it?

Vanessa: Not really.

Bob: I'm sorry.

It's an unfortunate habit of mine,

sticking my nose in where it doesn't really belong.

Vanessa: That's a bad habit.

Bob: Well, don't rub it in okay?

It's just my work.

I see a kid who looks like they're in trouble

and I start asking all kinds of questions.

I guess it's just become second nature.

Vanessa: It's that obvious?

Bob: What is?

Vanessa: Me being in trouble.

Bob: Look, the offer's still open if you want it.

You know, I've always found it amazing how, how much easier

it is to really share something with a perfect stranger.

Stuff that you couldn't even talk to with

your best friend or your family.

Vanessa: Yeah, I noticed that.

That's real funny, isn't it?

Bob: Yeah, it is.

Most of the kids I work with, I don't even have

to press them to talk about themselves.

I just let them know I'm there and that they can talk about

themselves if they want to.

Vanessa: Well, I guess my biggest problem

right now is... my mamma is in jail.

Bob: Vanessa, that sounds like a pretty bad situation.

Vanessa: Yeah, that's why I'm going to see my grandma.

Bob: You mind me asking why your mother's in jail?

Vanessa: It's pretty embarrassing.

Bob: Vanessa, why would you be embarrassed

about another person's act?

Vanessa: I don't know. It's just--

I don't feel comfortable talking about stuff like that.

I think it makes me look like a low-type person.

Bob: I can understand that.

You know, most of the boys I work with,

even the most troubled ones,

all they really need is just someone to listen to them.

Vanessa: Yeah, but you probably get so sick of hearing

them sad stories day in and day out.

Bob: I don't.

I really love my work.

I really do.

I couldn't imagine myself doing anything else.

Not ever.

Vanessa: I guess I wouldn't mind talking to someone.

Just wouldn't know where to begin.

Bob: Why don't you begin with your mother.

I mean, if you want to.

Vanessa: My mamma's a whore. (crying)

Thanks, mister.

I mean, Bob.

Bob: There.

Vanessa: I can't believe I'm telling you all this stuff.

My mamma's in jail.

It looks like my stepfather's next parole officer

ain't even been born yet.

Bob: Vanessa, you really don't have anyone, do you?

That's terrible.

Oh, that's just terrible.

Vanessa: My real dad was this merchant Marine out in Texas,

but he got stabbed to death on one of them container ships

by this man from Pakistan, before I was born.

You want to see his picture?

I got it right here.

Bob: Absolutely.

That's my daddy.

Bob: He looks very interesting.

Vanessa: You think?

Bob: Absolutely.

Vanessa: I think so, too.

Bob: Vanessa, your grandmother is going to be very proud when

she finds out what a wonderful granddaughter she's got.

But I have to be honest with you.

I think given your present situation,

maybe foster care would be the way you should go right now.

Vanessa: Oh Bob. You don't know.

You know, sometimes them places are okay. But most of the time,

them people are just in it for the check that the state sends

for your upkeep.

Bob: I take it you've had some bad experiences?

Vanessa: The last one I was in, there was this old man there

that everyone called Grandpa and he had this disease called

"Wiesenheimer's"-- I think it was--

where your brain cells run out into your pee.

Bob: Yes, it's a form of senility.

Waitress: Here's your check sir.

Bob: Thank you.

Vanessa: Thanks, Bob.

That's the best fucking dinner I've had all month.

Bob: Wouldn't mind stretching my legs for a little while

before I got behind the wheel.

Do you mind?

Vanessa: (burps) No, sure.

I got all the time in the world.

Bob: Great.

Vanessa: So, them foster parents, the Morales,

I mean you would have

thought a check from the state would've been enough, but no.

They figured on me helping out with Grandpa, too.

Bob: You mean, you actually had to provide care for this man?

Vanessa: Get crucial.

This guy was pissing his sheets nearly every night.

Just being near him made me want to puke my guts out.

Bob: So, what happened when you refused?

Vanessa: They just started treating me

like I was the biggest bitch who'd ever been born.

And this one night, just a couple of weeks after

I'd been placed there, I woke up to see Grandpa

standing over me with his cane in one hand

and his you know what in the other.

Bob: My God! What happened?

Vanessa: I told him to get the hell out.

Bob: I take it he didn't.

Vanessa: Nah, that's when he tried to slip in

in under the covers with me.

I just went crazy on him.

Bob: What do you mean, you went crazy?

Vanessa: I was pissed off because I couldn't see my mom

and just having this perv standing over me

wagging his thing in my face was just like the last straw.

Bob: So what did you do?

Vanessa: Well, got up on my knees and just

slapped his dentures half out of his face.

Then I dropped down on his chest and just started wailing on him,

beating him up so hard.

Swearing so loud.

Bob: My God.

Vanessa: Yeah. So then, the lights went on and Mr. Morales

showed up in his pajamas.

Bob: Well, thank God he was there.

Vanessa: Yeah, right.

He hit me so hard I had to have my jaw wired shut

for nearly three months. Broke my nose too.

That's how come it's so big.

Bob: Vanessa, your nose is not big.

Vanessa: It's pretty damn big.

Bob: Was this man ever punished?

Vanessa: Are you kidding?

A pillar of society like Mr. Morales? Nah.

But my mom got out of rehab a couple of days later,

so I didn't have to go back or nothing.

Bob: You were telling me a while ago your step-dad was on parole.

Vanessa: Oh, yeah.

Larry's been in lots of pens.

Like this one federal place up in Illinois, Marion.

It's mostly for drug shit.

Manufacturing methamphetamines, stolen property.

Nothing real, real bad.

Bob: Vanessa, please don't be offended by my next question.

But, um, did your stepfather molest you?

Vanessa: Oh, my God.

You know, this lady police woman just asked me that very same

question just a few hours ago.

Bob: And how did that make you feel?

Vanessa: Like I got daddy's fuck hole tattooed on my forehead.

Bob: Maybe this is an issue you should explore?

Vanessa: I never even told my fiancé about this stuff.

Bob: Vanessa, if you keep something like this bottled up inside,

it could wreck your whole life.

Vanessa: Now you're scaring me.

Bob: It's not my intention.

I just think you have a very good opportunity now to get through

some of the trauma and anguish you've been suffering from

for such a long time.

Vanessa: I do got trauma, huh?

Bob: Let's not kid ourselves, Vanessa.

Vanessa: I've been so anguished,

I can't even remember being happy.

Bob: Vanessa, you have to look this pain in the eye.

Otherwise, it could rule over every aspect of your life.

Now, I think I can help you,

but you're going to have to trust me.

You're going to have to let me in.

My God you're cold.

Vanessa: Just thinking about my fucked up life is all.

Bob: Let's go.

Vanessa: (crying) I'm sorry.

Here I'm blubbering like a big old baby, and you're just trying

to help me.

Bob: Vanessa, Vanessa, just take your time.

Take your time.

Vanessa: I was 11 when Larry first hit on me.

Bob: Where was your mother?

Vanessa: Some stupid halfway house.

Bob: How did the abuse begin?

Vanessa: With my mamma gone, I had all these extra chores

I had to do, like the laundry, the groceries and things like that.

Bob: So, in effect you became the woman of the house.

Vanessa: Yeah.

Yeah. I was so proud of myself.

And then this one night, we was watching TV after dinner,

like we always do, and that's when Larry told me

one of mamma's chores had always been to massage his you know what.

Bob: Did Larry expose himself to you?

Vanessa: All through the show.

Bob: Did Larry have an erection?

Vanessa: That's putting it mildly.

Bob: Did he ask you to perform oral sex for him?

Vanessa: At first, I mean, he just had me hold on to his you know what

during whatever happened to be on TV.

He didn't get around to the other thing you just mentioned

for a while.

I guess he figured if he went all slow I wouldn't freak out

and get him in trouble.

But back then I didn't know that stuff we was doing was criminal.

Bob: Vanessa, victims often blame themselves.

It's a common occurrence.

Make no mistake about it.

You are the victim.

Vanessa: Really, Bob?

Bob: Absolutely.

Vanessa: I was such a baby back then I didn't even know

why men wanted all that stuff done to them in the first place.

Bob: Vanessa, my God, you were a child.

You must have been so confused.

Vanessa: And when he did that thing that you mentioned

for the first time, I swear to Christ I thought he was going

to the bathroom in my mouth.

Bob: Vanessa, do I have your absolute trust?

Vanessa: I guess I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone

in my whole life, Bob. And I really mean that.

Bob: Thank you.

The reason why I'm asking is this very powerful new

psychological technique that I'd like to try on you.

I think it could really help you.

What do you think? Would you like to give it a try?

Vanessa: Yeah. Sure.

Bob: Okay. It consists of a battery of questions that are designed

to trigger certain elements of your subconscious.

I've got to warn you, Vanessa.

This technique... it can be uncomfortable.

Vanessa: Go for it, Bob.

I mean, if you think it's going to help me.

Bob: Okay, okay.

Let's get started. Are you ready?

Vanessa: Mm-hmm.

Bob: A few moments ago, you were telling me that

you felt like Larry had gone to the bathroom in your mouth.

Those were your exact words.

Do you remember?

Now at that exact moment when Larry ejaculated in your mouth,

did you feel as though somehow you were being transformed

into some kind of a human urinal?

Vanessa: What kind of fucking questions are these, Bob?

Bob: Vanessa, you have to answer with the first thing that comes

into your mind.

It's very important.

Vanessa: I knew I was flesh and blood.

Bob: I understand that, but you have to tell me

exactly how you felt.

You have to learn how to express your feelings out loud.

Vanessa: I felt just like you said.

Bob: Say it out loud Vanessa.

Vanessa: I felt like I had been transformed into a human urinal.

(crying)

Bob: That's very good, Vanessa.

Very good.

Now tell me this, and this is absolutely crucial.

Are you ready?

Vanessa: Mm-hmm.

Bob: Vanessa, did Larry try to fuck you?

Vanessa: Oh God. He tried... later on.

Bob: Vanessa. Did you like it when Larry fucked you?

Vanessa: You piece of shit.

Bob: Vanessa, I told you this can get very uncomfortable.

Vanessa: Pull over right now.

Bob: We're not finished, yet.

Vanessa: Oh yes, we are.

We are definitely finished. Now you pull on over.

Bob: You can suffer irreparable damage if you break it off like this.

Vanessa: I don't give a goddamn.

Bob: Jesus Christ. Son of a bitch.

Jesus Christ.

Vanessa: Where's the door handle?

Bob: You looking for this?

(slap)

Vanessa: (screams)

Bob: You just settle down.

Vanessa: I'm going to kill you.

Bob: I'm going to slit your throat right now.

Is that what you want me to fucking do?

Vanessa: Okay, okay. I'm stopping, okay?

Bob: Now you get down there on the floor and you get my

fucking car keys and you put them in the ignition.

Vanessa: You wouldn't like it if someone was doing that to you.

Bob: Well, you're probably right, Vanessa.

I doubt I would like it if someone was doing this to me.

Vanessa: Well, then stop it.

Bob: I will stop it if you promise to behave.

Vanessa: I promise I'll behave.

Are you that guy on the news?

Bob: I'm sorry?

Vanessa: You the guy that's been killing all them girls

on the freeway, Bob?

Bob: (laughing)

Vanessa: Why you killing all them girls, Bob?

Bob: Because I've absolutely reached my

fucking limit with people like you, Vanessa.

Vanessa: What kind of people am I supposed to be?

Bob: Alcoholics, drug addicts, fathers who fuck their daughters,

the drug addicted motherfucking whores with their bastards

fucking offspring.

Vanessa: Hey, I ain't no trick baby.

Bob: Vanessa, I call them garbage people, and I assure you

you are one of them.

Vanessa: I am not.

Bob: Look at you.

You're already a master at the manipulation of men.

Vanessa: I didn't run nothing on you.

Bob: It's so intrinsic to your fucking nature

you are not even aware of it when you do it.

Stupid bitch.

(dramatic music)

Vanessa: So what, you think it's okay to do all sorts

of bad stuff to me now?

Bob: Well, that's an open-ended discussion, Vanessa,

dealing with deep philosophical ramifications.

Something you could hardly grasp.

In fact, take it from me, a professional, Vanessa,

you're an absolute fucking moron.

Vanessa: Maybe I ain't smart like you, and maybe I haven't

finished school, but at least I ain't a fucking hypocrite.

Bob: (laughing) Vanessa, please indulge me.

Tell me why I am a hypocrite.

Vanessa: You act like you's all on some sort of mission,

but all you want to do is just get off in a sex type way.

Are you going to do sex to me now?

Bob: I promise you if we get really, really intimate

you're going to be way past being offended.

Vanessa: What? Are you going to fuck me when I'm dead?

Bob: (laughing)

Vanessa: Mister, I'm a person.

I'm a human being.

Bob: Yeah, like that drug addict fucking whore of a mother

of yours?

Vanessa: Well, I sure wouldn't want to meet your mom, Bob.

(punch)

(whimpering)

What? You can talk about my mom, but I can't talk about yours?

Bob: We are not here to talk about me, Vanessa.

We are here to talk about you.

So, get your fucking pants down.

Vanessa: Please, just let me go Bob.

Bob: Goddammit! (punch)

Get your fucking pants down, you fucking cunt.

Vanessa: What'd you call me?

Bob: I said get your fucking pants down, now.

Vanessa: Okay! Okay!

Look, I got these boots and I got all them laces and stuff,

so you're going to have to give me a minute.

Bob: Hurry up.

(scream)

Bob: Oh, fuck!

Fucking bitch!

I'm going to fucking kill you, Vanessa.

Vanessa: You just settle down, Bob.

Bob: You just settle down right now.

Bob: Okay. Okay.

Vanessa: Drop that razor out the window.

If you try anything I'm going to shoot you so many times.

You know you should have just let me out of the car

when I asked you to, Bob.

You see where bad manners get you?

You see?

Bob: Listen Vanessa, look I just--

Vanessa: Look, I've heard all I'm going to hear out of you.

Bob: Ah, fuck.

Vanessa: So, there.

Bob: Ah, Jesus Christ!

Vanessa: And that's for tricking me into telling you all them things

I never even told my fiancé.

Bob: Ah, Jesus Christ, we're going to get into an accident!

Vanessa: That's for cutting off all my hair, you fucker.

Bob: Vanessa, look, you're upset.

Okay. You have every right to be.

Look, something dark and terrible came over me.

I don't know what, but I swear to you I wasn't going to hurt you.

You've got to believe that.

Vanessa: Oh, yeah right. I'm so sure.

Bob: I'm serious. I just wanted to scare you.

I don't even know why.

Look, it's obvious to me now I'm a profoundly sick man.

Vanessa: Yeah, well I won't argue with you there.

Anyone who'd do sex to a dead person is definitely sick.

Bob: Well, you see? You just admitted there.

I'm a sick man. You can't hit a--

Vanessa: Shut up! Shut up!

Bob: Okay, okay, okay.

Son of a bitch.

Vanessa, what are you thinking right now?

Vanessa: What? You want to hear more of my innermost

fucking secrets?

Bob: No.

Vanessa: Fucking asshole.

Bob: No, I was just wondering what you were planning on doing.

Vanessa: I'm going to turn you in to the fucking pigs.

That's what I'm going to do.

Bob: Well, you know what will happen then, don't you?

Vanessa: Yeah, you'll end up sucking gas at San Quentin.

Bob: Vanessa--

Vanessa: You just might.

Bob: Vanessa, people like me, we don't go to the gas chamber.

Vanessa: Then you'll go to the penitentiary where the mighty

Aryan brotherhood will make you wish you'd never been born.

Bob: Vanessa, the likelihood of someone like me

going to prison is absolutely nil.

Vanessa: Well, you think they're just going to let you walk?

Bob: It will be like that time Mr. Morales broke your jaw.

Vanessa: You think so, huh?

Bob: Absolutely.

They won't take me for a killer.

They'll let me go free.

They'll send you to some new foster home.

Probably make Mr. Morales' place look like some pleasant

dream to you.

Unless, of course, you want to play it

smart for the first time in your life.

Vanessa: How do I go about doing that, Bob?

Bob: I got some money on me. I got an ATM card.

We can go get some more, you go your way. I'll go mine.

I swear to God you'll never see or hear me again.

What do you say?

Vanessa: I say turn off on that exit up there.

Bob: Jesus Christ, Vanessa. We're in the middle of nowhere.

Vanessa: You want to get shot a whole bunch of times?

Now do like I tell you, dumb-ass.

Bob: Okay. Okay I'm turning.

Vanessa: You think this is a game?

Bob: What are we going to do, drive around for three

or four hours looking for a cop?

Vanessa: Keep flapping your gums. Who cares, if no one is listening.

Pull up on that dirt road over there.

Now Bob, I know there's a lot of sick guys out there that get

all hard thinking about messing women up.

I mean, hell, that's all you ever see on TV.

But when a guy goes and does that stuff for real,

like you was planning on doing to me tonight--

Bob: Vanessa, I was just trying to scare you.

Vanessa: You had your turn to talk.

Okay, I think it's only fair to let me get my two cents in.

Bob: You're absolutely right. I'm sorry.

Please, go on.

Vanessa: When a guy hurts someone who never hurt them,

it makes him a criminal first and a sick guy second.

Being sick has to take second place to being crooked.

And Bob, you're crooked.

Bob: (crying)

Vanessa: You proved that to me tonight.

Am I making any sense?

Bob: (crying) Yes, there's so much I want to tell you.

Vanessa: Bob--

Bob: Look, there's so much more to me than what you saw tonight.

Vanessa: Bob!

Bob!

Bob: Please. (crying)

Vanessa: Time for talk is over, now.

I'm going to ask you a question and it's real, real important,

okay?

Bob: What?

Vanessa: Do you accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior?

Bob: Oh, my God.

Vanessa, you're really scaring me.

Vanessa: Tell me now, Bob.

I need to know.

Do you believe Jesus Christ is your Lord and personal Savior?

Bob: Yes, I do. I swear.

Vanessa: Good. That's really good.

Bob: (crying)

(gunshot)

-Vanessa: (screaming) -Bob: (groaning)

Bob: Oh God. Not like this.

(screaming)

(gunshots)

(gunshot)

(vomiting)

Vanessa: Oh God. Dear God, that was so fucking bad,

but I was at a loss, so I left it up to you.

I love you with all my heart and I hope you don't hate me

more than you already do.

Please bless Mamma, Larry and Chopper.

Amen.

(country music)

I think I'll have the double Heman breakfast and

a large sized cherry cola. Okay?

What?

I must look a fright.

Got a washroom?

Nurse: Just one moment, please.

(crash)

Bob: Please.

Please, help me.

Call my wife, please.

(thud)

Vanessa: Hey officer, what's up?

Police officer: Let's go.

Come on.

Vanessa: Sir, I did nothing wrong.

I did nothing wrong!

Police officer: We've got a gun. We've got a gun.

Vanessa: Big wow.

God, you know half the goddamn world's got a gun,

and you're going to throw me in the back of this--

Cop: Enough!

Vanessa: Give me a goddamn break.

What, you're not even going to speak to me mister, oink man?

(snorts)

I bet you like--

Cop: Backing up.

Doctor: Mr. Wolverton.

Mr. Wolverton.

Mr. Wolverton has learned that he's going to have to undergo

a radical colectomy.

-Garnett: That's awful. -Mike: Yeah!

Bob: Oh, please no!

Doctor: There's a couple of detectives here from the

Sheriff's Department that need to speak with you.

Bob: (crying)

Garnett: Mr. Wolverton, Mr. Wolverton.

Mr. Wolverton, can you hear me?

I'm Garnett Wallace, from the Sheriff's Department.

I know you're in a lot of pain, but can you take a moment?

I want to show you a photograph.

Tell me if this is the person that shot you.

Is this the person that shot you?

Bob: (crying) Yes.

Garnett: Are you sure this is the person that shot you?

Okay, you'll be all right.

Bob: (crying)

Garnett: Mrs. Wolverton, your husband gave

a positive identification.

Mimi: What happens now?

Garnett: Well, you have to keep in mind this is a juvenile we're

talking about.

Mimi: What?

Are you telling me you're just going to let her go free?

Garnett: I didn't say we're going to let her go free.

She can be incarcerated up to the age of 25.

Mimi: For that?

Look at him. Ten years?

My husband is in there with God knows how many bullets

in his head, and in his back.

She deliberately shot him over and over and over again.

I want her held responsible.

Mike: Mrs. Wolverton, I assure you that

whoever did this isn't just going to walk away.

Mimi: What if he dies, huh?

If he dies, I think she should be put in the electric chair.

Mike: Gas.

Mimi: What?

Mike: They use gas in California.

Mimi: I think you know what I mean, detective.

I certainly hope that the people that are

responsible for prosecuting this case can muster

just a little bit more sensitivity to the rights

of the victims than you appear to have.

Mike: I didn't mean to sound uncaring.

Mimi: I want that little monster to pay for this.

For me, for my husband, for the next person out there that

she'll end up hurting or killing if God forbid she's allowed back

on the streets again.

Garnett: Vanessa Lutz.

My name is Garnett Wallace and this is my partner Mike Breer.

We're with the Sheriff's Department.

Vanessa: You're that guy on TV aren't you?

Garnett: Mm-hmm.

I'm investigating the I-5 murders.

Vanessa: Well y'all can all just take a big old fucking cruise

because I took full out care of that piece of shit.

Mike: Mr. Wolverton is in critical condition, but he isn't dead.

Vanessa: Oh yeah, right.

I shot him so many times.

Mike: Aren't you concerned about being tried

as an adult for murder?

Garnett: Vanessa, the reason we're here is to give you

an opportunity to change your story.

Vanessa: Well, that would make me a big fat liar, wouldn't it?

Mike: Look kid. Cooperate, because right now

we're the best friends you've got.

Vanessa: Yeah, I'm so sure.

Garnett: You don't believe we're your friends?

Vanessa: I believe you're out to ruin me.

Look, I never said I wouldn't talk.

I might not happen to say what y'all want to hear.

So, you want me to talk, that's fine.

But you've got to let me call my fiancé right afterwards.

Okay?

Garnett: You can.

Mike: Fine.

No problem.

Now talk.

Vanessa: What do you want to know?

Mike: Did Mr. Wolverton say he was the I-5 killer?

Vanessa: He didn't say he wasn't.

Mike: I haven't said that I'm the I-5 killer.

Vanessa: And you haven't said that you're going to slash

me dead with a razor and do sex to my dead body, neither.

Garnett: Mr. Wolverton said that to you?

Vanessa: Yeah.

Right after he cut off all my hair.

Then he called me one of them garbage people.

Then I asked him if he was that I-5 Killer and he just started

smiling all proud like.

Garnett: You have an opportunity now to clear your conscience.

Vanessa: I told the truth, and the truth is eternal.

Mike: Vanessa Lutz, you still haven't told us why you were

walking around with a loaded pistol in the first place.

Vanessa: I was going to sell it to finance my trip.

Mike: Oh, yet you ended up shooting some poor slob

who had the decency to give you a ride instead.

Vanessa: Yeah, except for the decency part.

Mike: When did you decide to rob him?

Was it before or after you shot him?

Vanessa: Look, that perv owed me for pain and suffering.

So, yeah I took his money.

Mike: Why didn't you just turn him in?

Vanessa: I wanted to, but he kept saying that

it would be his word against mine and that he'd

just get off and I would go to foster care again.

And aside from that, I just knew that if I let him go,

he would go out and kill some other girl.

And that would have been my fault.

And I couldn't have lived with that.

Never. No way.

Garnett: Why were you so convinced

we wouldn't believe you?

Vanessa: Because I've been in the system,

and once you've been in the system once,

ain't no one never going to believe you again.

It's just how it goes.

Garnett: Tell us about your past legal problems.

Vanessa: It's all in my file.

Garnett: I want to hear it from you.

Vanessa: Okay.

All right, when I was younger, I used to have this

problem with shoplifting.

And I got caught.

And the judge sent me to this group therapy session

for all these little girls who was supposed to be clepto.

Mike: How many times were you arrested for

shoplifting Vanessa?

Vanessa: Seven times.

Mike: What else?

Vanessa: Okay. Now this is going to sound bad,

but it's not as bad as it seems, okay?

But I learned later that I had this problem with anger,

but I don't have that problem no more.

Mike: Just answer the question.

Vanessa: Back in Texas, these cops said I lit this shed on fire.

Mike: What? You were arrested for arson?

Vanessa: Yeah, but nobody got hurt.

It was no big deal.

And the judge even said that I could get it

"explunged" from my record if I was to go to these

if I was to go to these group therapy sessions

with all them teenagers

who were supposed to be firebugs or something.

But, um, that judge got switched.

So, that's why it's still there.

Mike: How many times were you arrested for arson?

Vanessa: Three times.

Mike: Okay. What else?

Garnett: Come on Vanessa, tell us.

Vanessa: Soliciting.

Mike: Just doing what came natural, huh?

Garnett: Hey Mike.

Vanessa: What's that supposed to mean?

Garnett: Let's get back to the questions.

Vanessa: No, uh-uh.

What's that supposed to mean?

What, you think prostitution comes natural

like being a nigger?

Oh, wait you don't like being called a nigger?

Well, I don't like being called a natural born whore.

So there.

Garnett: Sit down.

Vanessa: No!

He's talking to me the way that fucking guy did.

Mike: Is that why you shot him?

Or was it because you wanted what was in his wallet?

Vanessa: I already told you why I shot him,

you shit-skinned motherfucker.

(slap)

(crash)

Mike: (groans)

Vanessa: Come on you fucking coon!

I'll kick your black ass all over this fucking station.

Shit head.

Garnett: You okay, Mike?

Why did you call him those names, Vanessa?

Vanessa: Because he didn't say he was sorry.

And I knew it would piss him off.

Now, how about that phone call?

Come on. Come on. I need another quarter.

Come on.

Hey Mrs. Wood. Is Chopper there?

(thud)

Holy shit.

Look who got beat with the ugly stick.

Is that you, Bob?

I can't believe such a teeny weeny little gun made such

a big mess of some one.

Lawyer: Are you out of your mind?

Vanessa: You are so ugly, Bob!

That's going to cramp your style with the babes, big time.

You know that, huh?

Especially little miss priss over there.

And hey I heard you have one of them big poop bags

that's like attached to your body.

And all your shit comes out and like lands in it.

You're just a big old shit bag, ain't you Bob?

You just think of me every time you empty

that motherfucking thing, motherfucker.

Police officer: Quiet. Stay there.

Vanessa: All right.

Judge: One more word young lady and you're going to be gagged.

The people versus Vanessa Julia Lutz.

Female lawyer: Your honor, due to the heinous nature

of this crime

and the defendant's obvious lack of remorse,

the state moves that Vanessa Julia Lutz be tried as an adult.

Male lawyer: Your honor, my client is an illiterate child.

One only has to look at her to see--

Judge: Oh, I've had my look, counselor.

And I've been listening, too.

And I'm going to direct the youth authority

to prepare a report

on the defendant's suitability to be tried as an adult.

(knock)

(blues music)

(buzzer)

Mrs. Collins: Hello there ladies.

Welcome to Bridgewater.

I'm Mrs. Collins.

And if you follow me, I'll show you to your beds.

(rap music)

Venus this is yours, number eight, and Vanessa, number 12.

Hello, Rhonda.

Rhonda: Hey Mrs. Collins.

Mrs. Collins: Say hello to Vanessa.

Vanessa, this is Rhonda.

Rhonda: How you doing?

Mrs. Collins: I was hoping you could show Vanessa around

the craft shop later.

Rhonda: I can't.

See, I'm on restriction.

Mrs. Collins: Rhonda, what did you do this time?

Rhonda: Mrs. Joiner said that I was touching Wanda Z.

all inappropriate.

Mrs. Collins: Rhonda, I swear.

Rhonda: So, who'd you kill?

Vanessa: What makes you think I killed somebody?

Rhonda: Because they got you wearing one of them

orange murder suits.

Only the shooters wear them things.

Vanessa: Actually, I left him for dead, but he pulled through.

Rhonda: Oh, I'm here for huffing paint.

Vanessa: They put you in here for that?

Rhonda: During the strip search...

they found a gram of tar in my cooch.

Do you like tar?

Vanessa: No, heroin is way to gnarly for me.

Rhonda: I don't get how a person could go through their

whole lives never being into girls.

I just-- I love girls.

Vanessa: You can keep them.

Rhonda: You don't know what you're missing.

Show-off alert.

Vanessa: How many?

Rhonda: Three, but you only got to worry about one.

Mesquita: Cracker bunny.

They caught you ditching school, or what?

Bitch. I'm fucking talking to you, man.

Vanessa: (screaming)

My name is Vanessa Julia Lutz.

(buzzer)

(girls screaming)

Mrs. Collins: 415 inmates only, module 1700.

Vanessa: Say my name before I break your goddamn head.

Bitch!

(girls yelling)

Rhonda: Stick it in her.

Stick it in her.

Guard: Break it up!

(yelling)

Mrs. Collins: This isn't going to hurt a bit sweetie,

and afterwards, you'll have a nice little nap.

Vanessa: (screaming)

Mrs. Collins: You can remove those pesky restraints now.

Vanessa: (grunting)

Grandma: Hi, honey.

Vanessa: Grandma?

Grandma: Here I am.

Vanessa: Grandma.

Grandma: Hi. Vanessa.

Vanessa: Grandma. (echoing)

Grandma: Vanessa.

Vanessa.

(footsteps)

(keys rattling)

Mrs. Collins: Vanessa Julia Lutz.

Inmate shows no remorse for her crimes.

Inmate is combative.

Refuses to accept responsibility for her actions.

Recommendations:

This inmate appears to be

a sophisticated criminal, and an extreme danger

to society, and should be required to pay the penalty

for her actions in a facility for adult criminals.

Diagnosis:

Antisocial personality disorder.

Prognosis:

Very poor.

Recommendations:

This individual is probably too far gone

to benefit from corrective behavior modification

of the kind offered in a setting for juveniles.

(dramatic music)

Hello, Vanessa.

Do you think you can join the rest of us now?

Vanessa: If nobody gives me no more problems.

(TV)

(boos)

Janice: Hi, this is Janice Miller, of Inside View.

We're here with Mr. Robert Wolverton and

his wife Mimi Wolverton, at their home in Orange County.

Would you describe some of the hardships you've had to endure

since this ordeal began?

Mimi: My husband has been permanently disfigured.

How can he ever work with children again?

His appearance... Well, it frightens them.

He's unable to have sexual relations.

Janice: You're saying your husband is no longer capable

of achieving an erection?

Mimi: That part of our lives is over now.

What makes me so angry is how that little monster ridiculed us

during her preliminary hearing.

And the media... How dare the media talk about

how horrible her life is. What about us?

That psychopath.

She's been locked up nine, ten times?

Why was she ever let back out on the streets again

in the first place?

Janice: If the teenager who allegedly shot

your husband were here,

what would you want to say to her?

Mimi: Was it worth the $300 she stole from my husband?

Janice: Are you bitter, Mr. Wolverton?

Bob: Well just, all the wonderful letters

that we received from across the country.

Vanessa: (mockingly) My dick may not function, but I haven't

lost my smile.

Bob: I'm not (indistinct).

Janice: I know there's a lot of people looking for some real life

heroes, and I think I've found a few.

Reporter: Their courage is a real inspiration.

And now stay tuned for an unusual story about a couple of

sweltering polar bears in Texas.

(laughing)

Vanessa: Holy shit.

Rhonda: It's okay.

Let me go get you some party punch.

Vanessa: No, I aint thirsty.

Rhonda: You're all wigged out, huh?

Vanessa: Just get all these bad nightmares once

I get out of isolation.

Rhonda: I'm so happy to get out I can't even sleep at all,

let alone have nightmares.

Vanessa: For me it's like I get all shrunk down.

Rhonda: I don't get what you mean.

Vanessa: It's like I get like a cat or a dog or something.

Until I'm just like they all are.

I get in the hole much longer I'm just going

to be like this hermit, shunning all human contact.

Scared like.

Rhonda: It's like that song says, Vanessa.

People need people.

Vanessa: I ain't so sure about that, Rhonda.

Rhonda: Well, what is it that you think that you need?

Vanessa: I'll tell you.

Back in the hole, I decided all I need to live is my will.

And a knife is good too.

So you don't feel so at the mercy of events.

Rhonda: You made this?

Vanessa: Yeah, my stepfather Larry showed me how.

Pretty cool, huh?

Rhonda: What are you going to do with it?

Vanessa: Get the hell out of here.

Rhonda: You might have to mess up some of the staff.

Vanessa: What, you really feel sorry for them people?

You think normal people just wake up one morning and decide

they're going to work in a prison?

They're perverts, every last one of them.

Any of them fuckos get in my way I'm going to make them wish

they hadn't.

Rhonda: Do you like that?

Vanessa: I'll make out with you, but no fucking.

Because I'm straight.

Guard: Okay, you two.

Male lawyer: Your honor, it's obvious my client is a child and

very unstable.

It says right here: Nearly illiterate, emotionally immature,

prone to impulsivity, unpredictable.

Female lawyer: Your honor, she is charged

with a gruesome crime.

Judge: Counselor, please.

Male lawyer: It goes on to say she should be tried as an adult.

Judge: And stand trial as an adult she will.

Female lawyer: Thank you, your honor.

Judge: Jury selection will commence on

June 8th at 10:00 am.

Vanessa: Are we leaving?

What are y'all looking at?

Fuck all y'all.

Fuck you, chipmunk face.

And your fucking skipper wife.

(bell)

Garnett: I see here that you and Vanessa were arrested

together twice in a period of two years.

Sharon: Yeah, we needed the money.

We thought we'd be all grown up turning tricks on Warren Avenue

right outside the Snack and Shop,

except we got pinched in like five minutes.

Bitch.

Mike: You two were engaged in acts of prostitution

in the sixth grade.

Sharon: I was only going to jack them off, is all.

Garnett: Did you ever see Vanessa act in an

overtly hostile way to an actual human being?

Sharon: You mean like blow somebody's brains

out all over the place?

Mike: Oh, you think that's funny?

Sharon: Yeah. (laughing)

Mike: What about her boyfriend who passed away?

Sharon: It was pretty exclusive.

Garnett: Okay, Sharon, that will be all for now.

Thank you very much.

Sharon: I know she's blowing it over him.

Mike: Well, what do you know?

She's a coal burner.

Garnett: What's a coal burner?

Mike: It means her boyfriend's black.

Garnett: Are you surprised?

Mike: Aren't you?

Garnett: You know Mike, every kid we've spoken to

about this Lutz girl seems to hold her in very high regard.

Mike: Well, Wallace, look at her friends outside.

They're the most fucked up bunch of kids I've ever seen in

my damn life.

Still, something just doesn't--

Garnett: What?

Mike: I've got to go back to the crime scene.

Garnett: It's two and a half hours away from here.

Mike: Wallace.

Garnett: Go, go, go.

Get it out of your system.

Mrs. Collins: Go on.

Diamonds on the back ladies.

Diamonds on the back.

Guard: Get me some jerky.

Stay in line.

Mrs. Collins: Don't forget to wash your hands now ladies.

Twin: Do you think that little guard's cute?

Twin: I guess, yeah sort of punky.

Vanessa: Better watch out because it's going

to get pretty crazy in here in a second.

Twin: You going to cut up that cute little guard?

Vanessa: If he gets in my way, I will.

Girl: Man, you stupid, if you think you can

get past both them two.

Vanessa: What the fuck do you care what happens to me?

Girl: I'm here on double murder. Okay?

In two years I'm going to be 18.

I'm going to be sent to Frontera for 20 fucking years,

so why the hell shouldn't we help each other, man?

Because two heads is a lot fucking better than one head.

(knocking)

Mrs. Collins: Hurry up in there ladies.

(knocking)

Come on now.

Vanessa: All right.

Vanessa: Don't fucking breathe.

Mrs. Collins: Vanessa.

Vanessa: I'm dead serious. What did I say?

Mesquita: Where did he go?

Mrs. Collins: He went to get a beef treat, Mesquita,

and he'll be right back.

You can't get by the both of us.

Vanessa: Shut up.

Mrs. Collins: Think about it.

Vanessa: Shut up (yelling).

Twin: My sister Brenda thinks you're cute.

Twin: I do not.

Twin: You do, too.

Guard: That's good. Where's Mrs. Collins?

(groans)

Vanessa: Yah!

Who told you you could fight?

Guard: You didn't have to kill me.

Vanessa: What?

Guard: You didn't have to kill me.

Vanessa: I didn't kill you, you dirty little pervert.

Give me your goddamn car keys before I cut your pecker off.

That won't feel very good, will it?

Twin: He sure is bloody.

Twin: Still think he's cute?

-Mesquita: (yelling) -Mrs. Collins: (groaning)

(yelling)

Vanessa: Mesquita, I'd really like to go now.

Mesquita: Good night, everybody.

Mesquita: My homeys are here, Vanessa.

Flacco: I missed you so much.

Mesquita: You smell the same.

Flacco: What happened?

Mesquita: I was playing catch up.

This is Vanessa.

(speaking Spanish)

And don't you worry. Everything's going to be all right.

Vanessa: All right.

Mesquita: You look pretty.

You will think I'm sound all feminist and shit.

It's like the one thing I learned in jail

is that girls got to help out other girls, you know?

Especially con girls, because--

You know what I mean?

Vanessa: I hear what you're saying.

Mesquita: Okay.

Vanessa: Need me to drop that off anywhere?

Flacco: Nah, the owner he won't mind.

Mesquita: You going to need this, girl.

Vanessa: Oh, Mesquita you've already done too much for me.

Mesquita: This ain't even $20.

This bum's a total gas hog.

Don't be stupid.

Vanessa: You know, what I really need is a gun.

Flacco: You going to give her my gun?

Mesquita: I'll get you another one,pendejo.

I'll get you a cellular too, and a beeper.

I get a hold of your ass.

Watch out for the pigs, Vanessa.

Vanessa: You know, I'm sorry for busting your nose that time.

I was just real upset that day.

Mesquita: I'm all trying to work it so I can get

you to cut put out for me later on.

I guess I went about it pretty dumb, huh?

Vanessa: Mesquita, I'd put out for you any day of the week.

Mesquita: I only do that in lockup.

Come here.

(doorbell)

Mike: Good morning Mrs. Wolverton.

Mimi: Well, have you found her?

Garnett: No, we haven't.

Mike: I really don't think you're in any danger.

Mimi: Oh, really?

Well, your life hasn't been ruined by

this little monster, has it?

Garnett: Is your husband here now, Mrs. Wolverton?

Mimi: No, he's at St. John's doing his physical therapy.

Now what the hell are you doing here?

Garnett: Mike, go over to the hospital

and escort Mr. Wolverton back here, please.

Mimi: Why?

Garnett: Mrs. Wolverton, I have a search warrant here.

Mimi: What?

Garnett: If you would just sign it anywhere, it would be fine.

Mimi: I'm not signing anything.

Garnett: Steve, make note that Mrs. Wolverton refused to sign

and honor the search warrant.

Mimi: I don't believe this.

Mike: So noted.

Garnett: Okay, take care of the downstairs

and make sure that you check out the garage,

the backyard and everything thoroughly.

Mimi: What's this all about?

Garnett: Mrs. Wolverton, certain evidence has come to light,

which we are duty bound to investigate.

Mimi: What sort of evidence?

Garnett: I would prefer to discuss it in the presence

of your husband, if you don't mind.

Mike: There's a storage shed out back.

I'm going to take a look.

You wouldn't happen to have the key, would you?

Mimi: Fuck you.

Mike: Didn't think so.

(papers falling)

Mike: Robert Wolverton. Correct. Age 32.

Yeah, forensics is on its way.

Tony found some remains, human, animal who knows.

Garnett: Mrs. Wolverton, were you aware your

husband had mental problems?

Mimi: Those were-- Those were--

Those were children?

Mike: Children? Yes.

Just like the Lutz girl we've been dying to see get

strapped down in the gas chamber.

Mimi: (whimpering)

Garnett: Will you ease up on her?'

Mike: Fuck her.

Mimi: (crying)

(door slams)

(gunshot)

Mike: Jesus Christ.

Bob: Shit.

(tires screeching)

Vanessa: Por favor.

Hey ladies, Donde esta los chicos?

Sexo.

Sexo.

Yeah,muy buena

Want to screw baby? Come on.

Fuck you, too.

Hey baby. Ooh, me so horny.

Yeah, what about now?

Fuck you, too.

Back again, huh?

Wanna fuck?

Man: How much?

Vanessa: Depends on what you're into.

Man: You suck cock?

Vanessa: Sure. I can do that.

Man: I just want to get sucked.

Vanessa: All right.

You just find us an alley and I'll take care of you

right where you're sitting.

Man with tie: I'll pay you $25.

Vanessa: I can live with that. Let's go.

Man: You're underage, aren't you?

Vanessa: What, is that a problem?

Man: No. Young people gotta live, too.

Vanessa: You sure got that right.

Now get them all down, okay?

Makes it a whole lot easier that way.

Give me all your money. All of it.

Man: Goddamn it.

Jesus. Okay. Hey, hey. I'm sorry, okay?

Okay?

Vanessa: I was aiming at your head, mister.

Man: Okay, I'm sorry.

Vanessa: Yeah. If you get this over quick we'll both be

a lot happier, okay?

Man: My money is in my briefcase in the back seat.

Vanessa: Don't move it.

Just lean over and open it up where it's laying.

And keep your pants where they are, mister dirty mouth.

Man: Okay, okay.

Okay.

Vanessa: Don't swing that motherfucking thing at me

or I swear to God you're dead.

You believe me?

Man: Why are you doing this?

Vanessa: Because I'm pissed off and the whole world owes me.

Give me your goddamn money.

Where's the rest of it?

Man: That's all I got.

Vanessa: You was just going to give me $5?

Man: Please, please, please, just take it. Okay?

Please.

Vanessa: Get out of the goddamn car right now,

you little pecker snot.

Right now!

No, uh-uh.

You get all them panties off before I get really pissed.

You think I'm kidding?

(gunshots)

Now get your ass in the trunk.

Man: Please, I'm claustrophobic.

Vanessa: Yeah. Well, I get claustrophobic

sucking strange dick. Get in there.

Man: Please, please.

I gotta pee.

Vanessa: Well, pee in there motherfucker.

I ain't kidding. Now.

Dumbass.

Flo: I'm sorry sir. This is a no smoking restaurant.

Bob: You really are a dear, Flo.

Flo: Would you care for a warm up?

Bob: No, thank you.

I'd like to order.

Flo: What would you like?

Bob: Chicken soup... with a fucking straw.

(dramatic music)

Man: Let me out. I'm dying in here.

Vanessa: Oh, you are? Well, do it now.

Garnett: Will you slow down for Christ's sake?

You're going to get us killed.

There. There's the exit.

Vanessa: Grandma.

Grandma.

Grandma.

Grandma.

(dramatic music)

(man yelling in trunk)

Vanessa: Grandma, it's me!

It's me Vanessa!

Hey, Grandma!

It's me Vanessa.

Hi, Grandma. Grandma, wake up.

It's time to wake up.

I'm your granddaughter.

I'm here to take care of you forever and ever and ever.

Why are you hiding?

Here, let me see.

Them some big ugly fucking teeth you got, Bob.

Bob: How do you like that, Vanessa?

You like how that fucking feels?

Vanessa: What did you do with my grandma?

Bob: You want to see your grandma?

Why don't you give Grandma a kiss?

Vanessa: You fucker!

You killed my grandma.

Bob: That's not all I did to Grandma.

Man: Naomi. Listen, I brought you an extension cord.

(gunshot)

(Vanessa grunting)

(gunshot)

Vanessa: Die, you piece of shit.

(gunshot)

(Bob grunting)

(gunshot)

Die, fucker.

(gunshot)

Garnett: Back inside.

(gunshot)

Vanessa: Die, you piece of shit.

Mike: Let's go.

(gunshots)

Vanessa!

Vanessa: Piece of shit!

Fucking perv.

Mike: Vanessa.

Vanessa: Piece of shit.

Mike: Vanessa!

Vanessa!

Vanessa: Die!

(groaning)

Come on!

Shit.

Get out of there.

Get out of there.

Garnett: Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Vanessa: Y'all got a cigarette?

(laughing)

(up-tempo music)