All language subtitles for Once.Upon.a.Time.in.Hollywood.2019.PROPER.1080p.BluRay.x265-RARBG

This man is worth $500,

and this man's
going to collect.

He's Jake Cahill,

and he lives by...

Bounty Law.

You don't ever bring them in
alive, do you, Jake?

Not when there's three of them
and one of me.

What are you looking at,
bounty killer?

I'm looking
at an ugly owl-hoot

about to get his jaw busted.

Amateurs try
and take men in alive.

Amateurs usually
don't make it.

Whether you're dead or alive,

you're just a dollar sign
to Jake Cahill on Bounty Law.

Thursdays at 8:30,
only on NBC.

Hello, everybody.

This is Allen Kincade

on the set
of the exciting hit NBC

and Screen Gems television
series Bounty Law.

Now, if you think
you're seeing double,

don't adjust
your television sets

because, well,
in a way, you are.

To my right
is Bounty Law series lead

and Jake Cahill himself,
Rick Dalton.

And to my left is Rick's
stunt double, Cliff Booth.

Welcome and thanks for
taking the time

- to visit with us.
- It's our pleasure, Allen.

So, Rick,
explain to the audience

exactly what it is
a stunt double does.

Well...

actors are required to do
a lot of dangerous stuff.

Say Jake Cahill
gets shot off his horse.

Now, can I fall off
a horse?

Yes, I can,
and, yes, I have.

But say I fall off wrong
and I sprain my wrist

or I... or I
twist my ankle.

Now, that can put
an undue burden on production

because now maybe
I can't work for a week.

So Cliff here is meant to help
carry the load.

Is that how you'd describe
your job, Cliff?

What, carrying his load?
Yeah, that's about right.

Join me next week on the set
of The Dick Van Dyke Show,

where I'll be talking
to comical cutups,

Morey Amsterdam
and Rose Marie.

Till then, this is Allen Kincade
signing off from Hollywood.

Hi. I missed you.

The black one.
And the flowers.

Flowers, Ava, flowers.

And there's the small one.

Can I see your tickets?

Oh, good boy.

Gina, Gina, Gina.

The face
in the misty light.

- Hello, Mr. Schwarz.
- Hello, Gina.

I, uh... I have a meeting
with a very handsome cowboy man.

He's waiting
for you in the bar.

Ah.

Well...

since I just finished
watching

a Rick Dalton
fucking film festival,

I think I know who you are.
Put it there.

Well, it's my pleasure,
Mr. Schwartz.

And thank you
for taking an interest.

Schwarz, not Schwartz.

Ah. G-goddamn it to hell.
I'm-I'm sorry about that.

- It's my pleasure, Mr. Schwarz.
- Call me Marvin.

Marvin, call me Rick.

- Rick?
- Yeah.

- Oh, is that your son?
- My son?

No, that's my stunt double,
Cliff Booth. Yeah.

- Good to meet you.
- We've worked together

since the last two seasons
of Bounty Law.

- Yeah?
- My car's in the shop,

so he gave me a ride.

That's a big fucking lie.

Rick got his driver's license
taken away

for too many
drunk-driving tickets.

Cliff drives him
everywhere now.

Oh, fuck.

Well, sounds
like a good friend.

- I try.
- Mm.

I wanna send you greetings
from my wife,

Mary Alice Schwarz.

Oh, well, that's nice.

Thanks a lot.

We had a Rick Dalton
double feature

in our screening room
last night.

Oh, well, that's both
flattering and-and embarrassing.

What'd you see?

Thirty-five mm prints
of Tanner

and The Fourteen Fists
of McCluskey.

I hope the, uh,
Rick Dalton double feature

wasn't too painful for you
and the... And the missus.

Oh, no. "Painful." Stop.
What are you saying?

Mary Alice loves Westerns.

Our whole courtship,
we watched Westerns.

- Here you go.
- Thanks.

And we thoroughly
enjoyed Tanner.

Oh, that's nice.

It's really good.
And anyway, she goes to bed.

I open up a box of Havanas.

I light up, I pour myself
a cognac and I watch...

The Fourteen Fists
of McCluskey.

What a picture.

- What a picture.
- Good picture, yeah.

That is so much fun.

All the shooting.

I love that stuff.
You know, the killing.

A lot of killing.
Lot of killing, yeah.

Now, gentlemen,
the plan is, we reverse our forces

und drive the Allies
back into the sea!

Genius.

Panzer divisions come in,

and we drive them here
to the ocean.

They'll be up against
the wall.

- They will have nowhere to go.
- Yes.

This is the spot...

Hermann!

Open the curtains.

Anybody order
fried sauerkraut?

Burn, you Nazi bastards!
Ha-ha-ha!

That's you operating
the flamethrower, isn't it?

Oh, you bet your sweet ass
it was. Yeah.

- It was you?
- Yeah. And let me tell you,

that-that's one shit-fuck
crazy weapon

y-y-you do not wanna be
on the wrong side of.

Boy, oh, boy.

You know, I practiced
with that dragon, uh,

three hours a day
for two weeks.

Not just because
I wanted to look good

in the picture,
but because I was...

I was shit-scared
of the thing, to be honest.

Mike fucking Lewis!

Crisping them Nazis
to hell!

Oh, shit, that's...

All right,
that's too hot.

Anything we can do
about that heat?

- Rick, it's a flamethrower.
- Yeah.

So I came to the office
early today,

and I watched two episodes
of Bounty Law on 16 mm.

Jody Janice,

wanted for cattle rustling
in the state of Wyoming,

$425 dead or alive.

And you brought him here
to collect.

I don't even know
where here is.

It was just
the closest place.

Caught up with him about
five miles outside of town.

So, bounty killer,

the name of this town
is Janicetown.

And that boy you killed...

was Jody Janice.

He was the baby boy
of Major Nathin Maxwell Janice.

Hmm.

Who's
Major Nathin Maxwell Janice?

Well, I'll be sure
and introduce you

when he gets here.

Bounty Law.

Starring Rick Dalton.

Then a couple of the
jokers over in archival sent over

a kinescope of a little treat
featuring you.

So, uh, you've been doing
guest shots

on episodic TV shows
the last couple of years?

Yeah. Yeah. I'm doing a pilot
f-for CBS right now.

It's called... It's called
Lancer. I play the heavy.

Did a, ahem,
Ron Ely Tarzan.

I did a Land of the Giants.
Green Hornet.

I did that show, uh...

Bingo Martin with that kid
Scott Brown. Yeah.

And I got a F.B.I.
that-that airs this Sunday.

You, um... You always play
the bad guy on these shows?

- Y-yeah. Mm-hm.
- Yeah.

So, and they have a fight scene
at the end of them?

Well, not... Not...

Not Land of the Giants
or F.B.I.,

- but the rest, yeah. Yeah.
- And you lose in the fight?

Yeah. Yeah, of course.
I'm... I'm the heavy.

Oh, that's an old trick
pulled by the networks.

Now, you take Bingo Martin,
for example.

- Mm-hm.
- Right?

So you got a new guy
like Scott Brown.

You wanna build up
his bona fides, right?

So you hire a guy
from a canceled show

- to play the heavy.
- Hmm.

Then at the end of the show,
when they fight,

it's hero besting heavy.

But what the audience sees

is Bingo Martin
whipping Jake Cahill's ass.

- Uh-huh.
- You see?

Then next week,
it's Ron Ely.

And next week,
it's Bob Conrad,

wearing his tight pants,
kicking your ass.

Yeah.

Now, in another couple of years,
playing punching bag

to every swinging dick
new to the network,

that's gonna have
a psychological effect

on how the audience
perceives you.

Right.

So, Rick,

who's gonna kick the shit
out of you next week?

Mannix?
The Man from U.N.C.L.E.?

The Girl from U.N.C.L.E.?

How about
Batman and Robin?

Ping. Pow.

Choom. Zoom.

Down goes you.

Down goes your career
as a leading man.

Or do you go to Rome
and star in Westerns

and win fucking fights?

Ticket, señor?

All right,
what's the matter, partner?

Well...

it's official, old buddy.
I'm a has-been.

What are you talking about?
What did that guy tell you?

He told me the goddamn truth,
is what he told me.

- Oh. Whoa.
- Oh, shit.

- Hey.
- I'm sorry about that.

Sorry about that.

Here. Put these on.

Don't cry
in front of the Mexicans.

- Son of a bitch.
- What's got you so upset, man?

Well, if coming face-to-face
with the failure

that is your career
ain't worth crying about,

then I don't know
what the fuck is.

Right. That guy in there
turn you down?

No. He wants to help me
get into Italian movies.

Then what's the problem?

I gotta do
Italian goddamn movies!

- That's the fucking problem!
- Come on.

Fucking bullshit! It doesn't
matter whether I cry in public.

Nobody remembers
who the fuck I am anyway, huh?

...at the Hall of Justice here.

The defense will try
to prove the killing of Kennedy

- was the product of a sick mind.
- Fuck!

- Thank you. Hey, let's go.
- Take me home, Cliff.

Come on, take me home.

...as early as next Wednesday.

More than 1000 Communists dead
are reported

in new, large-scale fighting
in South Vietnam.

U.S. losses
are said to be...

That's swell, man.

Fucking hippie
motherfuckers.

...and bases with
rockets and mortar fire.

As President Nixon
was flying to Europe,

he received details
of that fighting by radio.

Hot dog buns!

Five years of ascent.
Pfft.

Ten years of-of-of
treading water.

And now a race
to the bottom. Heh.

Look, I never had much
of a career to speak of,

so I can't say I really know
how you feel.

What are you talking about?
You're my stunt double.

Come on, now. Shit.

Rick, I'm your driver, man.
I'm-I'm your gofer.

I'm not complaining, man.
I like driving you around.

I like doing shit
around the house

and house-sitting
in the Hollywood Hills

when you're gone.

But I haven't been
a full-time stuntman

for a while now,

and from where I'm standing,

going to Rome to star
in movies does not sound

like the fate worse than death
that you seem to think it is.

Come on, now. You ever seen
an-an Italian Western, huh?

They're awful.
It's a fucking farce.

Yeah, how many you seen?
One? Two?

I've seen enough, all right?
Nobody likes Spaghetti Westerns.

Oh, hell, man,
stay in L.A.

Give it what fer
next pilot season.

Nah, nah. I'm... I'm...

I'm too insecure now
to score come pilot season.

Screen Gems ain't gonna have
nothing good to say about me.

- You know that.
- Shit. You made Bounty Law.

Nobody's gonna forgive me
for that last season.

- No matter what I do...
- Ah...

...I'm always gonna be
the horse's ass

that got Bounty Law canceled

because I wanted some fucking
rinky-dink movie career.

- Tom. My friend.
- I met him?

No, you haven't met him.

You won't meet him
because I don't think

- you'd like him.
- Why?

Well...

- Don't even joke.
- A joke? But they're scared.

Holy shit. Heh.

That was Polanski.

That was Roman Polanski.

He's lived there
for a month now.

First time I seen him.
Ha-ha-ha.

Holy shit. Goddamn it.

What do I always say?

Most important thing
in this town is,

when you're making money,
you buy a house in town.

You don't rent.
Eddie O'Brien taught me that.

Hollywood real estate
means you live here.

You're not just visiting,
not just passing through.

You fucking live here.

Here I am flat
on my ass,

and who I got living
next door to me?

The director of Rosemary's
fucking Baby, that's who.

Polanski, the hottest director
in town right now,

probably the world.

He's my next-door neighbor.

I mean, shit. I mean,
who knows what could happen?

I could... I could be
one pool party away

f-from starring
in a new Polanski movie.

So you're feeling better
now?

Aw, yeah, yeah.
Sorry about all that.

Give me my glasses back.

Oh, come get them, fucker.
Come...

All right, all right,
Audie Murphy, relax.

- There you go.
- You need me for anything else?

Nah, nah, nah. I got a lot
of lines to learn for tomorrow.

- Shit. All right.
- All right.

I'm gonna get my carcass
on home.

- All right.
- All right, 7:15 a.m.

- Seven-fifteen.
- Out the door.

- Out the door.
- In the car.

All right,
see you then.

Hello, coming in. Hello.

Hello, darling. Hello.

Mm. Mm.

Come here.

Hello, sweetheart.

Mm. How was your day?
Hmm?

Wait till you see
what I got for you.

Wait until you see
what I got for you.

Look what I got for you.

Gonna blow your mind, man.

Come here. Come here.

Ta, ta, ta. Oh!

Was that a whine?

What did I tell you
about whining?

You whine, you don't eat.

I will throw this shit
in the trash.

I don't wanna, but I will.

You understand?

All right.

I waited at
the bar till closing time,

but he never came back.

Okay, Peggy, what happened?

I don't know.
Everything was fine.

We had dinner at my house.

And afterwards, you know,

- while I was doing the dishes,
- Tsk, tsk.

he and Tobey played.

And then, at the club,
Gabe was doing great.

Then, wham, a sudden change.

You know how musicians are.
They're temperamental cats.

- Who knows what got into him?
- Yeah.

Rick Dalton rehearsal
tape starting in five, four,

three, two, one.

Pepe, get your behind
behind that bar! I got a guest.

Johnny says...

Spanish, Spanish, Spanish.

How's the beans?

I've had worse.

Johnny says... Spanish.

A toast.

To my wife
and all my sweethearts.

May they never meet.

Señor Madrid,
care to join me at my table

where I entertain my guests?

I would be
delighted, Monsieur Dakota.

Take the bottle with you.

And Pepe comes over.

Hey, where's that chili pepper
daughter of yours

with the fiddle?

She's asleep.

Well, wake her the heck up,
get her down here

with her fiddle and her bow,
and entertain my guests.

Sí, señor,
but please don't hurt her this time,

I beg you.

I ain't gonna hurt her.

Just want her
to play the fiddle.

Fetch her and tell her
I'll give her

a fat $5 gold piece,

she play her little chili pepper
heart out.

So, Johnny, what else
you heard about me?

I heard you're
pushing Lancer pretty hard,

but Lancer has money.

At some point, he's gonna hire
some guns and push back.

- Oops, sorry.
- It's okay.

I'll open the door for you.

You look good.

I think Steve's
gonna be there too.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, look. They're here.

Welcome to the Playboy
Mansion, Mr. Polanski.

Hey, how are you doing,
baby?

Hey! Heh. How are you?

Oh, Cass!

Yeah!

Yeah, baby!

Yeah! Whoo! Whoo!

Oh, yeah.

I'm gonna tell you a story.

She was engaged to him.

Then she flew
to the UK...

to make a film
with him,

and broke off her engagement
with him and married him.

Then they moved
to Los Angeles,

and the three of them

have been inseparable.

Really?

What's up?

Jay loves Sharon,
that's what's up.

- Mm.
- And he knows...

as sure as God made
little green apples...

that one of these days,
that Polish prick's

gonna fuck things up,

and when he does,
Jay's gonna be there.

Well, one thing's
for sure.

Yeah?

What's that?

Sharon absolutely has a type.

Cute, short, talented guys

who look
like 12-year-old boys.

Yeah.

I never stood a chance.

Argh. Fuck you,
Dr. Sapirstein.

Oh, here we are.

Tell transpo!
Gonna need to move all that out!

Just a sec. Hold on, guys.

Go ahead.

You can talk to him.
Just talk to him.

- Get that set in place.
- Hey.

Ahem. I think the wind blew
down my TV antenna last night,

so while I piss-fart
around with wardrobe,

you mind going home
and fixing it?

I can. You talk to
the stunt gaffer about me today?

That way I'll know
if I'm working this week or not.

Yeah. Ahem.
I've been meaning to tell you.

The guy who gaffs this,
he's best friends with Randy,

the gaffer
from The Green Hornet...

...so there ain't no point.

If you don't need me,
I'll pick you up at wrap.

I don't need you. Not today.

Go home, fix my antenna,
do whatever. See you at wrap.

Hey!

You're Rick fucking Dalton.
Don't you forget it.

Hey, hey.

Hey, buddy,
I'm Rick Dalton.

You know
where I'm supposed to go?

They're waiting for you
in the makeup trailer.

Where's the makeup trailer?

Straight back the way you came,
hard right.

Oh, my God.

Rick Dalton.

Sam Wanamaker.

Hey, Sam.

Sorry about the wet hand.

Oh, don't worry.
I'm used to it with Yul.

I want you to know,
I'm the one who cast you.

And I couldn't be more
delighted you're doing this.

Oh, well, thank you, Sam.

I... I appreciate it.
It's a good part.

Yeah, it is. Have you met
Jim Stacy, the series lead?

Uh, not yet, no. No.

Well, you guys are going
to be dynamite together.

Mm. Mm.

Well, it sounds exciting.

- Yeah, lightning in a bottle.
- Mm.

Now, you met Sonya,
makeup and hair?

Hi.

And this is Rebekka,
who does costumes.

Hello.

- Hi.
- Howdy.

I want a whole
new look for Caleb.

I don't want this
Western costumed

the way they costumed
The Big Valley

and Bonanza
for the last decade.

I want a zeitgeist flair
to the costumes.

I mean,
nothing anachronistic,

but where does 1869
and 1969 meet?

Especially when it comes
to you, Caleb.

Mm. Mm.

First off,
I want to give him a mustache.

A big, droopy,
Zapata-like mustache.

Now, about his jacket.

I want to give him
a hippie jacket.

Something he could wear
into the London Fog tonight

and look like the hippest guy
in the room.

Far out.
We got a Custer jacket.

Fringes all down the arm.

It's tan now,
but I dye it dark brown,

he could hit the Strip in it
tonight.

That's my girl. Heh.

- Now, Rick, about your hair.
- What about my hair?

I want to go
with a different hairstyle.

Huh. What?

Something
more hippie-ish.

You want me
to look like a hippie?

Well, think less hippie,
more...

Hells Angel!

- Right. Say, Sam...
- Get me the...

Sam. Sam, uh...

if you got me covered up
in all this...

this junk, uh,

how's the audience
gonna know it's me?

I hope they don't.

Mm.

I don't want them to see
Jake Cahill.

I want them to see Caleb.

I hired you
to be an actor, Rick.

Not a TV cowboy.
You're better than that.

I've been meaning to tell
you, the guy who gaffs this,

he's best friends
with Randy,

the gaffer
from The Green Hornet,

so there really
ain't no point.

Hey, Randy.

Cliff.

So you're still with Rick,
huh?

Still here.

He in there?

Yeah. Just knock.

Look, just put him
in the wardrobe, all right?

What's it gonna hurt?

Then if you need him,
you got him.

But then I gotta have
a conversation

with that
wardrobe assistant,

- and, man, she's a fucking bitch.
- I just don't... Please, I...

Look, Randy, I'm asking you
to help me out, man.

If the answer's no,
the answer's no,

not no with excuses.

Hey, man.

This ain't a fucking
Andy McLaglen picture, you know?

I can't afford to hire a bunch
of guys to smoke cigarettes

and sit around talking
to each other all day

on the chance
that I might use them.

I got a four-man team here,
Rick.

If I need more than that,
I gotta get it approved.

And, you know,
I gotta look after my dudes.

Hey, and if your dudes
were a better match for me,

I'd say, "Okay, you got me,"

but-but that's not the case,
and you know it.

- He's a great match for me.
- Yeah, no...

Hey, you could do
anything you want to him.

Throw him off a building, right?
Light him on fire.

Hit him with
a fucking Lincoln, right?

Get creative.
Do whatever you want.

He's just happy
for the opportunity.

- Rick.
- Yeah?

I don't dig him.

And I don't dig the vibe
he brings on a set.

What, is there some old beef
between the two of you?

- Oh, come on, man.
- What? What?

The dude killed
his fucking wife.

Come on, man. You don't believe
that old shit, do you?

Yes, Rick, I do.

And I work with my wife,
and she believes it.

She doesn't want
his creepy ass around.

You know, this is probably

the shittiest weather ever.

The shittiest weather
on the shittiest boat

with the shittiest person.

Natalie, my sister, said,
"He's a loser. He's a loser."

They all said it,
"He's a fucking loser,"

and I didn't believe them.

So I guess
I'm the fucking idiot.

And now you're not
gonna talk to me?

What, you don't feel
like fighting?

Well, I feel like
fucking fighting

because I've been up here
by myself

for four hours on this
fucking shithole of a boat.

Yeah.

H-he's a goddamn
war hero. Fuck.

Yeah, appreciate it.

Okay, you fucking horse's ass.
Let's get you over to wardrobe.

Now, I'll put you
in wardrobe,

but you don't stunt,
I don't pay you.

Appreciate the opportunity,
Randy. I won't let you down.

You know my wife Janet,
don't you?

Yeah.

Steer clear of her.

Now, I admire
Cassius Clay, I do.

What I admire is,
in his sport,

there's an element
of true combat.

When Cassius Clay meets
Sonny Liston in the ring,

that's not two athletes
posturing.

That's combat.

Two men trying to kill
each other right now.

If you don't beat him...

he kills you.

That's beyond athletics.

That's beyond
Wide World of Sports, you know?

That's two warriors
engaged in combat.

That's what I admire.

In martial arts tournaments,

they won't let you fight
like that.

It's very frustrating.

You stand in front of a guy,

and you just wanna let him
have it. Ha!

But you can't.

So you gotta do this
playacting, patty-cake version.

Cassius Clay. Sonny Liston.
Joe Louis.

The colored boxer,

not that white
kickboxing asshole.

They do what
they need to do to win.

They unleash
as much punishment

as they have to
to defeat the other guy.

But in martial arts
tournaments,

I do to win what
they do to win.

I unleash all my power.

I kill people.

If you fought Cassius
Clay, who would win?

Well,
that would never happen.

But if you did,
what do you think would happen?

I'd make him a cripple.

Hey, you. What's your name?

- Me?
- Yeah, you.

My name's Cliff.

I'm Rick Dalton's
stunt double.

- Stuntman?
- Yeah.

You know,
you're kind of pretty for a stuntman.

That's what they tell me.

So did I say something
funny, stuntman?

- Yeah, you kind of did.
- What's so funny?

Look, man,
I don't want any trouble.

I'm just here
to do a job.

But you're laughing at
what I'm saying.

But I'm not saying
anything funny.

So, what do you think
is so funny?

What I think is...

you're a little man
with a big mouth and a big chip,

and I think you
should be embarrassed

to suggest you'd be
anything more than a stain

on the seat
of Cassius Clay's trunks.

Brother, you're the one
with the big mouth.

And I would really
enjoy closing it,

especially in front
of all my friends.

But my hands are registered
as lethal weapons.

That means,
we get into a fight,

I accidentally kill you,
I go to jail.

Anybody accidentally
kills anybody

in a fight,
they go to jail.

It's called
manslaughter.

And I think all that
"lethal weapon" horseshit

is just an excuse
so you dancers

never have to get
in a real fight.

Okay.

How about
a friendly contest?

No punching in the face.

Two out of three.

Who puts who
on the ground first?

Nobody tries to hurt nobody,
just who ends up on their butt?

That's a great idea, Kato.

You know, Bruce,
that guy's kind of famous.

That guy?

For what?

Killed his wife
and got away with it.

That guy?

That guy.

Not bad, Kato.

Try that again.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

What the fuck
is going on here?

Hey, jackass,
this is our series lead.

What the fuck
are you thinking?

You're right, Janet.
I'm sorry about that.

Don't fucking "Janet" me,
you prick.

Hey.
What's up, babe?

What's up, Randy,
is that your loser asshole,

wife-killing buddy boy here was
beating the shit out of Bruce.

What?

- Hey, Randy.
- Cliff.

What the fuck, man?

Let me just say, nobody beat
the shit out of Bruce.

It was a friendly contest.
He barely touched me.

I think that dent in the car
says something different.

Oh, my God!

What the fuck
did you do to my car?!

What the fuck
did you do to her car?

I threw this
little prick into it,

but I did not know
it was her car.

Get the wardrobe off,
get your shit, and get fucked!

- Janet!
- What?

I will handle this.

Then fucking handle it,
Randy.

Cliff...

get the wardrobe off,
get your shit,

and get off the lot.

Fair enough.

Aw. What's the matter?

Are you afraid I'll tell
Jim Morrison you were dancing

to Paul Revere
and the Raiders?

Are they not
cool enough for you?

Who's this
shaggy asshole?

Hello? Can I help you?

Oh, yeah. Hey, man.
I'm looking for Terry.

I'm a friend of Terry's
and Dennis Wilson's.

Well, Terry and Candy
don't live here anymore.

This is the Polanski
residence now.

Really? He moved?

Dang.

Uh, you know...?
You know where?

I'm not sure,
but the owner of the property,

Paul, might.
He's in the guest house.

Who is it, Jay?

It's okay, honey.
It's a friend of Terry's.

Yeah, just take
the back path.

Thank you kindly.

Ma'am.

- All right, that's an hour!
- Hey, Rick.

I know they just
broke for lunch,

but you need to wait at least
an hour before you can eat.

- Give that glue a chance to dry.
- Oh, no worries, honey.

I got my book. Say, say,
where's the bad-guy saloon?

You just go straight
through the Western town,

take a right and a left,
and you see it right there.

Thanks, honey.

Can we move to number two?

How is his bounce?

Can I get a bounce there?

Just grab the crescent
wrench, come right back.

Just make it a quick one.

- Tim!
- Looks great. Right there.

Hello.

Hello.

Hello.

Would...

Would it bother you
if I sat

next to you
and read my book too?

I don't know.

Would you bother me?

I'll try not to.

Sit.

Ah.

Sorry. Sorry about that.
Ahem.

You don't eat lunch?

I've got a scene
after lunch.

Yeah?

Eating lunch before I do
a scene makes me sluggish.

I believe it's the job
of an actor...

And I say "actor,"
not "actress,"

because the word "actress"
is nonsensical.

It's the actor's job
to avoid

impediments
to their performance.

It's the actor's job to strive
for 100 percent effectiveness.

Naturally, we never succeed,
but it's the pursuit...

that's meaningful.

- Who are you?
- You can call me Marabella.

Mar... Marabella what?

Marabella Lancer.

No, no, come on, come on.
What's your real name?

When we're on set,
I'd prefer to only

be referred to
by my character's name.

It helps me invest
in the reality of the story.

I've tried it both ways,
and I'm always just

a tiny bit better
when I don't break character.

And if I can be
a tiny bit better, I want to be.

You're the bad guy.
Caleb DeCoteau.

I thought it was
pronounced Caleb "Dakota."

I'm pretty sure
it's "DeCoteau."

- DeCoteau.
- Mm.

DeCoteau. DeCoteau.

Hmm.

What are you reading?

It's a biography
on Walt Disney.

It's fascinating.

He's a genius, you know.

I mean, a once-in-every-50
- or-100-years kind of genius.

What are you, 12?

I'm 8.

What are you reading?

Just a Western.

What does that mean?
Is it good?

- Pretty good.
- What's the story?

I haven't finished
it yet.

I didn't ask
for the whole story.

What's the idea
of the story?

Well... ahem,

it's about this guy
who's a bronco buster.

It's the story
of his life.

Guy's name
is Tom Breezy,

but everyone always
calls him Easy Breezy.

Now, when Easy Breezy
was in his 20s

and-and-and young and
good-looking, he could...

He could break any horse
that you could throw at him.

Back then,
he just had a way.

Now he's into
his, uh, late 30s

and he takes a bad fall,
and it messes up his hip.

He's not... He's not...
He's not crippled

or anything like that, but...

But he's got
spine problems

he never had before,
and he spends, uh...

more of his days in pain
than he ever did before.

Jeepers, this sounds
like a good novel.

Yeah, it's not bad.

Where are you in it?

Mm. About midway.

What's happening
to Easy Breezy now?

Uh, he's, um...
He...

He's not the best
anymore.

In fact,
far from it. And...

he's coming to terms with what
it's like to be slightly more...

use...

Slightly more useless
each day.

I-it's okay, Caleb.

It's okay.

It sounds like
a really sad book.

Poor Easy Breezy.

I'm practically crying,
and I haven't even read it.

About 15 years,
you'll be living it.

What?

Nothing, pumpkin puss.
I'm just...

I'm just teasing you.

You know something? You...

You might be right
about this book.

I think it hits harder
than I gave it credit for.

I don't like names
like "pumpkin puss,"

but since you're upset,

we'll talk about that
some other time.

I'm only going as far
as Westwood Village.

Hey, beggars
can't be choosers.

- Come on in.
- Thanks.

- Thank you so much.
- My pleasure.

- Good luck on your adventure.
- Thank you.

- Have a good time in Big Sur.
- Thank you so much.

- Take care.
- You too.

- Oh, hey.
- Hello.

How can I help you,
young lady?

Oh.

I'm here to pick up
a first edition

of Thomas Hardy's Tess
of the d'Urbervilles I ordered.

It's under Polanski.

Yeah, you're talking books
there, kid.

Oh, I know.
Isn't it wonderful?

- Yeah. Oh, man.
- I just read it.

- I'm getting it as a gift for my husband.
- Mm.

- Rick Dalton?
- You bet.

Jim Stacy. This is my show.
Welcome aboard.

We're real glad
to have a pro like you

playing the heavy
on the pilot.

And I gotta tell you,
I came damn close

to being in The Fourteen
Fists of McCluskey.

- No kidding.
- Yeah.

Let me tell you, I...

I just got my part-part
by sheer luck.

Up until two weeks
before shooting,

Fabian was in the part.

Then-then he breaks his shoulder
doing a Virginian.

That's how I got it, so...

Ah.

Hey, Rick, I gotta ask you
something I heard about.

Was it true
you almost got

the McQueen part
in The Great Escape?

- Hilts, isn't it?
- Captain Hilts, actually.

- Seventeen escape attempts.
- Eighteen.

Never had an audition.
Never had a meeting.

Never met John Sturges.

So, no, I don't think
you could say I...

I almost got the part, but...

- Tunnel man, engineer.
- Flier.

I suppose what's called in
the American Army,

a hotshot pilot.

But the story goes,
for a brief moment,

McQueen almost passed
on the movie,

and during that
brief moment,

I, apparently,
was on a list of four.

You have other plans?

I haven't seen Berlin yet

from the ground
or from the air,

and I plan on doing both
before the war's over.

You and who?

- Me and... Me and three Georges.
- Which three Georges?

Peppard, Maharis and Chakiris.

- Oh, man.
- Yeah.

That's gotta hurt.

Yeah, well,
I didn't get it,

McQueen did it,

and, frankly,
I never had a chance.

Ten days isolation,
Hilts.

Captain Hilts.

Twenty days.

Right.

Oh, you'll still be here
when I get out?

Cooler.

- One, please.
- Seventy-five cents.

What if I'm in the movie?

What do you mean?

I mean, I'm in the movie.

I'm Sharon Tate.

- You're in this?
- Mm-hm.

I play Miss Carlson, the klutz.

That's me.

But that's the girl
from Valley of the Dolls.

Well, that's me, the girl
from Valley of the Dolls.

Really?

Really.

Hey, Rubin!
Come out here.

This is the girl
from Valley of the Dolls.

- Patty Duke?
- No, the other one.

- The girl from Peyton Place?
- No, the other one.

The one who ends up
doing dirty movies.

- Oh.
- She's in this movie.

- Oh.
- Sharon Tate.

Well, welcome
to the Bruin, Miss Tate.

Thank you for coming
to our theater.

Would you like to come in
and see the show?

Could I?

By all means.

Thank you.

Hey, can I get
a picture?

Oh, sure.

Okay.

You know, why don't you
stand over by the poster

so people will know
who you are.

Okay. Could you?

Would you like
some refreshments?

- Oh, I'm fine. Thank you.
- Enjoy the show.

Can I ask
you a personal question?

- I wish you would.
- How did a nice boy

like you get involved
with a group like the Heads?

I turned to them
after I was rejected

by the Daughters
of the American Revolution.

Very pleasant hotel here.

- Mr. Helm?
- Yes?

Oh!

I'm Freya.

Welcome to Denmark,
Mr. Helm.

These are for you. Street maps,
places of interest.

This is for you too.

- What year was that?
- 1949.

That's a very good year.

I'm here to
help any way I can.

Very nice of you.

Is there anything

you'd like me to do?

- Yes, a couple things.
- Yes, sir.

Would you mind getting off
my camera case, please?

- Oh, I'm sorry.
- Oh, that's all right.

- I'm so sorry.
- That's okay.

I'm sorry about...

Welcome to Denmark.

This is some kind of hotel
you've got here.

Half a bottle
is better than none.

Morning, partner.

Probably come
by to see you later.

That's far enough,
jughead.

Name's not jughead.

What you doing
around here, boy?

I'm thirsty. That's a saloon,
ain't it?

Oh, yeah,
that's a saloon.

- Only you can't come in.
- Mr. Gilbert.

Don't let me stop you
from earning your money.

I know how bored
and restless you get

when you run out of tamales.

But, Mr. Gilbert,
if I was you,

I'd find out that
jughead's name.

Allow me to introduce
the two of you.

This here is Bob Gilbert.

The Businessman?

That's right.

Business Bob Gilbert.
And who might he be, Caleb?

Well,
that's a fella by the name of Madrid.

Johnny Madrid.

Who's Johnny Madrid?

He ain't from round here.

No, really.

Who is he, Caleb?

Oh, you're about
to find out...

Businessman.

Ready when you are,
Gilbert.

Johnny Madrid.

How long has it been?

Since that time in
Juárez, about three years ago.

Well, come on in
and have a drink.

Hell, in that case...

buy you a drink, Caleb?

Sure, Johnny.

How about some mezcal?

Like that time in Juárez.

A lot of people
died that day.

Yes, they did.

But we had a good time.

Didn't we?

Yeah, we did.

After you, DeCoteau.

Pepe! Get your behind
behind that bar.

I have a guest.

How's the beans?

I've had worse.

One dollar.

To my wife
and all my sweethearts.

May they never meet.

Señor Madrid, you care
to join me at my table

where I entertain
my guests?

I'd be
delighted, Monsieur DeCoteau.

Take the bottle
with you.

So, Johnny, ahem...

what brings you
to Arroyo del Oro?

Oh, you know me,
Caleb.

Money.

And who's paying
around here?

I hope you.

Huh.

And what have you
heard about me?

I heard about
the Lancer Ranch.

All the cattle
you've appropriated.

A lot of land,
a lot of cows,

a lot of money,
no law to speak of,

and nothing
but an old man

and some Mexican ranch hands
to shoo you off.

Say, where's that
chili pepper

daughter of yours
with the fiddle?

She's asleep.

Wake her the heck up,
get her down here

with her fiddle and her bow,
and entertain my guest.

But, please, don't hurt her
this time.

I ain't gonna hurt her.

I just want her
to play the fiddle.

Line? "Go... Go fetch her
and tell her" what?

"Go fetch her and tell her

I'll give her a fat
$5 gold piece..."

Right. Go fetch her
and tell her

I'll give her
a fat-fat $5 gold piece,

she play her little
chili pepper heart out, right?

- Right.
- Got it.

I ain't gonna hurt her.

I just want her
to play the fiddle.

Now, go fetch her
and tell her

I'll give her
a fat $5 gold piece,

she play her little
chili pepper heart out.

Go on.

So, Johnny,

what else you heard?

Hmm.

I heard you're pushing
Lancer pretty hard,

but Lancer's got money.

At some point,

he's gonna hire some guns

and push back.

- Line. Line. Line, line, line.
- "Maybe he already has."

Maybe... Goddamn it!

I fucked this
whole thing up, Sam.

Keep going!

- I fucked this up.
- Fight through it.

Can we just go back?
Please, can we just cut?

Just say the fucking line!

No, really, Sam, please.

- "Maybe he already has."
- All right!

- "Maybe he already has!"
- All right, goddamn it!

All right, all right!

Woo!

You're a goddamn outlaw,
Rick. Come on, now.

Woo!

I got it. I got it.

Go back a bit, would you?

No, he's right. Back to one.

- Okay, now, use all that, baby.
- I'm gonna use it.

- Oh, I'm gonna use it.
- Put it all inside.

I'm gonna use it.

And...

action.

I heard you're pushing
Lancer pretty hard,

but Lancer's got money.

At some point,

he's gonna hire
some guns and push back.

Maybe he already has.

Maybe.

Maybe
I don't like Lancer.

Maybe I don't like
his boots.

Maybe I don't like the way

he uses those boots
to step on people.

What the fuck was that?!

Jesus Christ!

Fuck!

Piece of shit.

Fucking damn it, Rick,
I swear to God.

Forgot your fucking lines,
embarrassed yourself

like that in front of all
those goddamn people!

You were drinking all night,
fucking drinking again,

eight goddamn fucking
whiskey sours.

Fucking bullshit.

You're a fucking
miserable drunk.

Not fucking remembering
your fucking lines.

I practiced them,
and now I don't look

like I goddamn practiced them!

You're sitting there
like a fucking baboon!

Fuck! Eight fucking
whiskey sours.

I couldn't stop at fucking
three or four. I have eight!

Why?! You're
a fucking alcoholic.

You fucking drink
too much, huh?

Every fucking night.
Every fucking night.

That's it,
that's fucking it!

That's fucking it.

You stop drinking right now,
all right?

Make a promise to yourself.

You're gonna stop
fucking drinking.

Oh, fuck it.

Damn it!

You show that
little fucking girl.

You're gonna show
that goddamn Jim Stacy.

You're gonna show them
on that goddamn fucking set

who the fuck
Rick Dalton is, all right?

Let me tell you something.

You don't get
these lines right,

I'm gonna blow
your fucking brains out tonight.

All right?
Your brains are gonna

be splattered
all over your goddamn pool.

I mean it, motherfucker.

Get your shit together.

- Better? Okay.
- It's great.

Hey!

Hi.

Huh.

Woo!

Shit.

Fuck you, you fucking pig!

Oh, no.

Hello, hot stuff.

Looks like third time's
the charm.

Mm. How were those pickles?

Real good.

They were
the fancy kind.

- Mmm.
- Mmm.

Give me a lift?

Where are you going?

I'm going to Chatsworth.

Chatsworth?

You hitch up and down
Burbank Boulevard all day

till someone says they'll
drive you to Chatsworth?

Tourists love to drive me.

I'm their favorite part
of their L.A. vacation.

They'll be telling stories
about the Hollywood hippie girl

that they gave a ride
to the movie ranch

for the rest of their lives.

Wait, Spahn Movie Ranch?

- Yeah.
- That's where you're going?

Spahn Movie Ranch?

Uh-huh.

Why you going there?

I live there.

- Alone?
- No.

Me and my friends.

So you and a bunch
of friends like you

all live
at Spahn Movie Ranch?

Yeah.

Well, hop in.
I'll take you there.

Great!

Go down here and get on
the Hollywood Freeway.

I know where it is.

Are you some old cowboy guy
that used to make movies there?

Whoa!

What?

I'm just surprised
how accurate

that description
of me really is.

Some old cowboy guy that used
to shoot movies at Spahn Ranch.

So you used to make Westerns
at the ranch

back in the old-timey days?

Well, if by
"the old-timey days,"

you mean television
eight years ago, yeah.

Are you an actor?

No, I'm a stuntman.

You're a stuntman.

That's way better.

Why is that way better?

- Actors are phony.
- Oh.

They just say lines
that other people write

and pretend to murder people
on their stupid TV shows.

Meanwhile, real people are being
murdered every day in Vietnam.

Want me to suck your cock
while driving?

How old are you?

What?

How old are you?

Wow, man.

That's the first time
anybody asked that

in a long time.

What's the answer?

Okay. We gonna play
kiddie games?

Eighteen. Feel better?

You got some ID,
you know,

like a driver's license
or something?

- Are you joking?
- No, I'm not.

I need to see something official
that verifies that you're 18,

which you don't have
because you're not.

Talk about a bring-down bummer,
dude.

That's you.

Yeah.

Obviously,
I'm not too young to fuck you.

But obviously,
you are too old to fuck me.

What I'm too old to do
is go to jail for poontang.

Prison's been trying to get me
all my life.

It ain't got me yet.
The day it does,

it won't be because of you.

No offense.

You all right?

She's just
fine, ain't you, shorty?

I'm fine, Scott.

They haven't hurt you?

Camera's ready, Mr. Dalton.

I'll be right out.

The war.

I rode with
the British cavalry in Indi...

Stand by, guys.
We're going in five.

Lancer's boys are here!

The old man here?

Nada.

But the son is.

Ah. Heh, heh.

The one from Boston.

I don't know.

You from Boston?

Yes.

It's the Boston one!

Keep the others outside.

Let the brother come in.

You heard him, Boston.

Come on in, Boston.

See, honey?

I told you they'd come
to parlay.

You all right,
honey?

Oh, she's just fine.

Ain't you, shorty?

I'm fine, Scott.

They haven't hurt you?

Not yet, I ain't.

But that can all change...

like that.

Say...

where'd you get that limp?

- From the war.
- Mm.

Which side?

I rode with the British cavalry
in India.

Mm.

What'd they call that outfit?

Bengal Lancers.

Now, now, now,
that is funny.

- That is funny.
- That's not so funny.

Don't you get it?

"Bengal Lancer"?

Hm?

Oh, yeah.

I get it now.

- That is kind of funny.
- It is.

You do know kidnapping
is a hanging offense.

So is blowing the heads
off little girls.

But they can only hang me
once, right?

So...

you come down here for a...

For a Boston social?

- Or we gonna talk price?
- How much?

I'd say $50,000 would buy me

a whole lot of chicken mole
in Mexico.

That's a lot of money.

Well, she's a lot
of little girl.

Or don't you agree?

I agree.

So, what's next?

Well, I'll send one of my boys
out to your ranch

to fill you in
on all the details, but, uh...

the one detail I'm gonna fill
you in on right now is this:

I don't want
no beaner bronco buster

handing me that $50,000.

I want the old man himself.

Murdoch Lancer
puts $50,000 in my lap...

or I heave this little pitcher
down a well!

You got that, Boston?

Huh?

Yeah.

All right, messenger boy.

Deliver my message.

Give me evil, sexy Hamlet.

Settle into it.

Enjoy it.

And cut!

Oh, boy.

I didn't hurt you there,
Marabella,

- with that throw, did I?
- No, no, no. I'm good.

I got pads on.

And I throw myself on the floor

just for fun,
even when I'm not getting paid.

The gate's clean.

Rick, Rick, Rick.

Put her there.

- That was it.
- Really?

That was absolutely fantastic.

- Oh, thank you.
- I loved it.

Your idea about
throwing the little girl

on the ground
just worked like a charm.

I figured you said Shakespeare,
so... Yeah.

That's right. That was...

That's what I mean
by "scare me."

- Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.
- Evil Hamlet scares people.

- All right.
- Oh, and by the way...

- "Beaner bronco buster"?
- Yeah.

Where the hell
did that come from?

- I don't know. Improv.
- That was wonderful.

It was just... That was
a triple alliterative improv.

You don't hear those
too often.

- Okay? We're good.
- All right. We don't...?

- Don't need to go again?
- We're done.

- That was fantastic.
- All right.

Okay, moving on.
We're in the bordello.

Next setup!

That was the best acting
I've ever seen in my whole life.

Thank you.

Heh.

Rick fucking Dalton.

That's a car.

That's a strange car.

Snake, go see
who's outside.

So who is it?

I ain't for sure yet.

It's a bitchen yellow
Coupe de Ville.

Keep an eye on him.

Come on.

Where the hell
is everybody?

Hey, where's Gypsy?

She's down
by the chop shop.

- Hey!
- Hello!

Gypsy! I want you
to come meet my new friend.

Some old-looking
dude in a Hawaiian shirt

who just gave Pussycat
a ride home.

He just gave her a lift?

Nope. She's bringing him

down the ranch
to meet everybody.

Stay by the door.
Tell me if he starts coming this way.

- Welcome to our community.
- Thanks for having me.

Thank you for giving
our precious Pussy a ride home.

Think nothing of it.

We love Pussy.

Yes, we do.

Hey, where is everybody?
Where's the children?

Everybody left
for Santa Barbara.

Really?

Charlie's gone?
Everybody left?

Well, not "everybody" everybody,
but mostly everybody.

Drag.

I really wanted Cliff
to meet Charlie.

I think Charlie's
really gonna dig you.

- Angel, hold up.
- Well, maybe next time.

Yeah, you got to come back.

- Yeah?
- Yeah, sure.

So how's it all
comparing to your glory days?

Well, things have changed.

Not a bad mount, Connie.

I used to ride horses
every day back in Tennessee.

- Is that right?
- Every day?

Well, every week.

All right.

Ain't she just darling?

So, uh, my name is Lulu.

This is Tex.

We're gonna be leading you
on a great trail ride

through the beautiful
Santa Susana canyons.

Now, Curt, I hear you're already
an experienced rider.

- Yes.
- Yeah, so are you, Connie?

- Yes, I am.
- Hey, Tex? Come here.

So, uh, if you're both
experienced riders,

I guess we'll just make
this ride about having fun.

You ready to have some fun?

So Pussycat brought back
some guy with her.

Gypsy wants you
to go give him a look-see.

Yeah. Sure thing.

Oh, and here's someone
you absolutely have to meet.

One of our most favorite sons.

Tex, come on over here
and say hi to Cliff.

- Howdy, Cliff.
- Tex.

- What part of Texas you from?
- Oh, a place you never heard of.

Copeville.

Ah. Ever been to Houston?

Course I have.

Yeah, I spent two weeks once
on a Houston chain gang.

In August, no less.

That doesn't sound like
a whole lot of fun.

It's the last cop's jaw I ever
broke, I can tell you that.

Man...

Charlie's gonna dig you.

The Hawaiian guy
seems to be okay.

Everybody's talking
all friendly.

- Enjoy your day!
- Thank you.

Tex checked him out,
and now he's riding away.

If he comes this
way, let me know.

Hey, does George Spahn
still own this ranch?

Yeah, George
still owns it.

- Does he still live here?
- Yeah.

Does he still live
right there?

Yeah.

Is he here now?

I guess so.

So George gave you all
permission to be here?

Course he did.

And y'all take care of him?

Oh, we take care
of George.

We love George.

Well,
is there anything wrong

with me saying hello
to an old friend?

You can't see him
right now.

Why can't I see him
right now?

Because
he's napping.

This is his nap time.

Well, I think I'll just
go see for myself.

You never know.

He might have just woke up.

The old Hawaiian
guy's coming this way.

Okay, y'all, beat it.

I'll handle this guy.

Fine.

You the mama bear?

- Can I help you?
- I hope so.

I'm an old friend of George's.
Thought I'd stop and say hello.

That's very nice of you,

but you picked
the wrong time.

George is taking a nap
right now.

Oh, that is unfortunate.

Yes, it is.

- What's your name?
- Cliff Booth.

How do you know George?

I used to shoot Westerns
here at the ranch.

When was the last time
you saw George?

Oh, I'd say about...

eight years ago.

Oh. I'm sorry.

I didn't realize the two of you
were so close.

When he wakes up,

I'll let him know you came by.

I'd really like to say
a quick hello now

while I'm here.

Came a long ways.

Don't know when I'll get back
this way again.

Oh, I understand, but I'm
afraid that's impossible.

Impossible?

Why is that impossible?

Me and George like
to watch TV on Sunday night...

F.B.I. and Bonanza.
...but George finds it hard

to keep awake,
so I make him nap

so I don't get gypped out
of my TV time.

Ah.

Well, look, Red,
I'm coming in there.

With my own two eyes, I'm gonna
get a good look at George.

And this...

ain't stopping me.

Okay.

Suit yourself.

He back there?

Door at the end
of the hallway.

You might have to
shake him awake.

I fucked his brains out
this morning.

He may be tired.

Oh, Mr. Eight Years Ago?

George is blind,

so you'll probably
have to tell him who you are.

George, you awake?

George?

George?

George?

- George!
- Jesus.

- Hi, George.
- Wait a minute.

- What's going on?
- Everything's all right.

- I'm sorry to disturb you.
- Uh... Who are you?

It's Cliff Booth.

Just stopped in to say hello
and see how you're doing.

John Wilkes Booth?

No, Cliff Booth.

Who's that?

I used to shoot
Bounty Law here, George.

I was Rick Dalton's
stunt double.

- Who?
- Rick Dalton.

The Dalton Brothers?

No, Rick Dalton.

Who's that?

He was the star
of Bounty Law.

And who are you?

I was Rick's stunt double.

Rick who?

It don't matter, George.

We were colleagues
from the past, and I just wanted

to make sure
you're doing okay.

- I'm not doing okay.
- What's the matter?

Can't see shit.

Would you call that
"the matter"?

The man can't see shit,
okay?

I know. I'm sorry about that.
I was told.

Squeaky
sent me to bed.

Would that be
the little redhead out front?

What the fuck
is the matter with you?

First you wake me up,

and now you're pretending
that I didn't tell you

I was fucking blind!

How am I gonna know
what the hell color the head

of the girl is that's with me
all the time?

Oh, fair enough, George.

- No. Jesus Christ.
- Come on, George. All right.

Everyone
don't need a stuntman.

I don't know who you are...

but you touched me today.

You came to visit me.

Now I got to go back to sleep.

I got to watch
F.B.I. tonight.

I watch it with Squeaky.

She gets all pissed off
if I fall asleep.

What happens when she
gets pissed off, George?

Nothing.

I just don't like
to disappoint her.

So you gave all these hippies
permission to be here?

Just who the fuck are you?

I'm Cliff Booth.

I'm a stuntman.

We used to work together,
George.

And I just want
to make sure you're okay.

And that all these hippies
aren't taking advantage of you.

- Squeaky?
- Yeah.

She loves me.

So suck on that.

You take care, George.

Goddamn it.

You embarrassed me.

Yeah, sorry about that.

How'd your little talk
with George go?

Are we kidnapping him?

Not the word I'd use.

Now you've talked to him, you
believe everything's all right?

Not exactly.

This was a mistake.
You should leave.

Way ahead of you.

George isn't blind!

You're the blind one!

You do that?

You know, that's not my car.

That's my boss's car.

And if something were to happen
to my boss's car,

well, I'd get in trouble.

Fix it.

Fuck you.

- Leave him alone!
- He's a flower!

He's a flower, man.

He's just a flower.
He doesn't know better.

Ladies.

Come one step closer
and I will knock his teeth out.

Fix it.

Can I at least get a rag
to wipe my face first?

Nope.

Tire first.

- Sundance.
- Yeah.

Get on a horse, go get Tex
and get his ass down here.

Okay.

I love you.

Tex! Tex!

That Hawaiian guy's
back at the ranch

kicking Clem's face in.

Ah, son of a...

I'll take over for Tex.

Right this way.

Hyah! Hyah!

Clem, you all right?

How do?

What a day.
Shit, I almost lost my shit.

You, uh...

You want to come in
and watch my F.B.I.?

Why, I just figured we would.
I got a six-pack in the back.

Thought we'd order a pizza.

All right.

All right.

Eighteen miles to Pendleton,
Willard.

Any kind of luck,
we'll be unloaded

and back at El Toro
before my kids go to bed.

Hey, bought me
an acid-dipped cigarette today.

Oh, yeah?

You want to buy
a cigarette dipped in acid?

Yeah.

If I'm gonna trip,
I want to trip here, man.

Walk in the woods.
Not in my home.

Just gonna stash it here.

- Don't smoke it by mistake.
- Yeah.

You want to smoke some,
smoke some. Just save me some.

Nah, I don't need
to trip out on no acid.

My booze don't need no buddy.

Whoa! Oh!

Here I come. Here I come.

Mm.

What's the trouble, corporal?

There's a truck tailing us,
sir.

It might be a farmer
in a hurry to get someplace.

Oh, fine.

Well,
take it as fast as you can.

Yes, sir.

That PCH?

Yeah, yeah. Malibu.

Puerco Canyon or some shit.
I don't know.

Uh-oh. Here comes trouble.

Boom! Ha, ha!

Oh, man. Right in the face.

That was a smooth leap.

Thank you.

Dead number two.

I like that shot.

That guy's a fucking prick.

Um, that's Bobby Hogan.
Good guy.

All right, get ready
for my big F.B.I. moment.

- They're all dead, babe.
- Good.

"Michael Murtaugh."

- The F.B.I.
- Michael Murtaugh.

Buongiorno, Sergio.

Turn on Channel 7.

ABC.

F.B.I.

I'm watching your Nebraska Jim
as we speak.

...Philip
Abbott, William Reynolds.

With guest stars
James Farentino,

Rick Dalton...

Like the chewing gum?

- Norman Fell.
- Strong.

Tonight's episode:

"All the Streets Are Silent."

Except when Rick Dalton's
got a fucking shotgun,

- I'll tell you that.
- You're goddamn right.

...new Ford Cortina.

Well, that looks delicious.

- Thank you.
- Enjoy, sir.

Mm-mm-mm-mm... Mmm.

After that Musso
& Frank's lunch meeting,

Marvin did provide Rick
job opportunities

in the Italian film industry.

Rick Dalton,
Marvin Schwarz here. Hold on.

Hennessy X.O on the rocks.

Yes, Mr. Schwarz.

Two words.

Nebraska Jim, Sergio Corbucci.

N-Nebraska what?

Sergio who?

Sergio Corbucci.

A-and who's that?

The second-best director

of Spaghetti Westerns
in the whole wide world.

He's doing a new Western.
It's called Nebraska Jim.

And because of me,
he's considering you.

Well, Rick got Nebraska Jim.

And Rick made a rather
compelling Nebraska Jim,

existing quite nicely
within Sergio Corbucci's

rogues gallery of antiheroes.

In Rome,
Rick loved the paparazzi

and the fuss
they made over him

and his Nebraska Jim
costar Daphna Ben-Cobo.

All right there, paparazzos.
All right. Take it easy.

He loved the food
so much that during his stay,

Rick gained
almost 15 pounds.

But he didn't love the
Italians' way of making movies.

In fact,
he thought the post-synced,

"every actor
speaks their own language,"

Tower of Babel shooting style

of European movies
was ridiculous.

While in Rome,
Marvin plugged Rick

into three other
Italian productions.

His second Western was

Kill Me Quick, Ringo,
Said the Gringo,

also starring Joseph Cotten

and directed
by Calvin Jackson Padget,

pseudonym for Giorgio Ferroni.

His third was
an Italian/Spanish coproduction

that paired him
with Telly Savalas,

titled Red Blood, Red Skin,

directed by
Joaquín Romero Marchent

and based
on the Floyd Raye Wilson novel,

The Only Good Indian
Is a Dead Indian.

And his fourth,
a Spaghetti secret agent,

James Bond rip-off-type flick
called Operazione Dyn-O-Mite!,

directed by Antonio Margheriti.

Ultimately
making Rick's six-month

Italian sojourn
fairly profitable,

although his swank
Roman apartment

ate up a big chunk
of his earnings.

So as Rick returns to Hollywood
via Pan Am,

he has four new movies
under his belt,

some money in his pocket,

and his brand-spanking-new
Italian wife,

starlet Francesca Cappucci.

Hurtling through the air

towards a new life
and uncertain future,

Rick was really not sure
about what lay ahead for him.

Way back in coach,

working on his
bottomless Bloody Mary,

Cliff Booth returned
to Los Angeles as well.

He kept Rick company

during his entire
six-month stay in Italy.

However,
as the two men return home,

they've come
to an understanding.

Well, here it goes now.

With the, uh...

With the new wife, I, uh...

I just I can't afford you
anymore, Cliff.

You know? I can barely afford
my own house anymore.

So I think the plan
is to sell the house

and buy-buy a condo in-in-in
Toluca Lake, bank the money.

You know, live off it.
That type of thing.

Hopefully,
I score come next pilot season.

That's a good plan.

Yeah. You know,

by then, I'll know
if I have a career or not,

if I'm a solid Los Angeles
citizen like Eddie O'Brien says,

or if I'm one step closer
to going back to Missouri.

So when this whole
European journey is over,

I think we've, uh...

We've reached
the end of the trail, Cliff.

So these last
four Italian flicks,

after nine years together,

would be Rick and Cliff's
final rodeo.

Cliff doesn't have a clue
what he's gonna do.

The only thing the two men
know of for sure:

Tonight,
Rick and Cliff will have

a good old-fashioned drunk.

Both men know, once the plane
touches down in El Segundo,

it'll be the end of an era
for both of them.

And when you come to the end
of the line with a buddy

who is more than a brother
and a little less than a wife,

getting blind drunk together

is really the only way
to say farewell.

Here it is, honey.

- You like it?
- - I love it.

Where do you want it?

Hello?

Hey, it's Joanna and the baby.

Hi! Come on up.

Hi!

Oh, honey. How are you?

- Oh, my gosh, you're about to pop!
- I know!

- I know.
- Oh!

- And this is the nursery.
- Oh, my God, Sharon.

- It's perfect.
- Do you love it?

Little shoes!

I know.

I'm about to burst.

- I think you're gonna be a wonderful mother.
- Thank you.

Mm!

- Thanks, Gillian.
- Bye!

Bye, Brandy!

Sharon had two friends

move into
the Cielo Drive residence

while Roman was in London
preparing his next movie:

Voytek Frykowski, an old friend
of Roman's from Poland,

and his girlfriend,
social worker Abigail Folger,

heiress to the vast
Folger coffee empire.

That night,
Sharon, her two houseguests

and, naturally, Jay...

all went to the West Hollywood

Mexican restaurant landmark
El Coyote,

on Beverly, for dinner.

What's going on
at the dirty movie place?

Oh, they're having
a premiere.

Dirty movies have premieres?

Yeah. They're fun.

- This place is always so busy.
- I know.

It's crazy in here.

And right here for you.

- Gentlemen.
- Oh. Thanks.

While closer to
8:30, Rick and Cliff went

to the Valley
Mexican restaurant landmark

Casa Vega on Ventura.

Hello. Welcome.

You're welcome, sir.

Well, well, well,
if it ain't the cobra himself.

- Hey, Doug. What's happening?
- How you doing?

- It's good to see you.
- How's the wife?

I'm just kidding.
I'm just kidding.

Brandy stayed
behind at Rick's house,

guarding the beautiful
Italian woman asleep in her bed

and waiting for Cliff
and Rick to come home...

while jet-lagged
Francesca slept.

But you just get paid
for the day

- that you cut his hair?
- No, no, no.

I get paid $1000 a day.

I get paid $1000
the day I arrive.

- I get paid $1000...
- At El Coyote,

margaritas and good times
were had by all, except Sharon.

Sharon was experiencing

a touch of
pregnancy-induced melancholy.

Not only that,
it was later reported

that it was the hottest night
of the year,

and it made her feel
especially pregnant

in all the worst ways.

I don't want to party anymore.
I am tired.

Because he got it done.

No, it's not... It's not
because he just got it done.

He had just as much time

as all the rest
of the goddamn directors.

What he did with that time...
That's what counted.

At Casa Vega,
Rick and Cliff drank so much that,

when they left,
they left the Cadillac there

and took a cab home.

The greatest action director,

underrated guy of all time.

Around 10,
Sharon and her friends

left El Coyote
and arrived back at her house.

You've had,
like, 19 margaritas.

The four of them
hung out a little longer,

with Abigail even playing
the piano for them...

...until she
returned to her room,

smoked a joint
and read a book.

That was around 11.

At more or less the same time,

Voytek laid on the couch
watching American television

and thought about
how much better it was

than Polish television,
as he smoked a big joint.

Somewhere around 11:10,

Sharon changed
into her comfy house attire.

Feel better?

That is drastically better.

It was after 11:45 by the time

the yellow cab
dropped Rick and Cliff

in front of the house.

Thank you. Right here.

All right. Grazie, amigo.

- How much do I owe you?
- Three dollars.

Brandy was
glad to see them return.

- Thank you, brother.
- Thanks.

More margaritas.

Around midnight,

a completely drunk
Rick Dalton started making

a blender of frozen margaritas.

All right.

- We're walking.
- At the same time,

Cliff was attaching a leash

to an excited
Brandy's dog collar.

I know.

I remember you.

A cigarette dipped in acid.

- What's that do?
- You smoke it. It gets you high.

- How much?
- Fifty cents.

Fifty cents.

Hippie girl, 50 cents.

Tonight the night?

Why not?

And away we go.

Our Polish friend said it was
the hottest day of the year.

Despite the
fact that he said it,

actually, it might be true.

Goddamn.

Fucking private road.

Damn property taxes
up the butt.

Goddamn.

Bunch of goddamn
fucking hippies.

What the fuck?

Hey, you!

Yeah, asshole,
I'm talking to you!

What the hell
do you think you're doing

bringing that noisy hunk of shit
around here at midnight?

This is a private road,
all right?

Who are you?
And who are you here to see?

Nobody, sir. We just got lost
and a little turned around.

Ah, horseshit.

You fucking hippies
came up here

to smoke dope
on a dark road, huh?

Next time you want to try that,
fix your fucking muffler.

Look, we're really sorry
we disturbed you.

Look, chief,
you don't belong here.

Now, take this
mechanical asshole

and get it
off my fucking street!

Hey!

Dennis Hopper!
Move this fucking piece of shit!

All right. Just give me a moment
to turn it around.

Drive it backwards, numbnuts,

but fucking drive it,
and drive it now!

Okay. Okay. Stop yelling.

Hold your horses. We're leaving.

The hell are you looking at,
you little ginger-haired fucker?

Hey, you come around here again,
I'm gonna call the fucking cops!

Dirty fucking hippies.

There in his
fancy fucking house,

thinking he's handled it.

But he's seen us.
He's awake. He's alert.

They're all awake. They're
listening to fucking records.

Everybody's fucking awake!

Look!

- What did Charlie say?
- He said:

"Go to Terry's old house
and kill everybody in there."

And you heard him yourself.
He said, "Make it witchy."

Now, he either said that,

or I'm a liar.

Now, are any one of you
calling me a liar?

Hm?

How about you?

Are you calling me a liar?

No, of course not.

Good.

Hold it.

- Was that Rick Dalton?
- Who?

The guy from Bounty Law.

- Who, Jake Cahill?
- Yeah.

That guy in the robe
was Jake Cahill.

Wait a minute.
That was fucking Jake Cahill

that just yelled at me?

He was older,
but, yeah, I think so.

So who's this Rick guy?

Jesus Christ, Sadie,
get it together.

Rick Dalton played Jake Cahill
on a cowboy show

in the '50s called
Bounty Law.

Fuck you, Katie.

Sorry I don't know
the name

of every fascist on TV
in the '50s.

I can't believe that asshole
in the robe was Jake Cahill.

When I was a kid,
I had a Bounty Law lunch box.

That was my favorite
of all my lunch boxes.

Dig this!

When we've been having
our trip sessions,

I've been expanding
on this one idea in my head.

All right, dig it.

We all grew up watching TV,
you know what I mean?

And if you grew up watching TV,

that means you grew up
watching murder.

Mm-hm.

Every show on TV

that wasn't I Love Lucy
was about murder.

So my idea is...

we kill the people
who taught us to kill.

I mean,
where the fuck are we, man?

We are in fucking Hollywood,
man.

The people
an entire generation grew up

watching kill people
live here.

And they live
in pig-shit fucking luxury.

I say fuck them.

I say we cut their cocks off
and make them eat it.

That's a great idea, Sadie.

You two ready
to kill some piggies?

Wait a minute. Oh, shit.

Sorry, I forgot my knife
in the car.

Can I go...?
Can I go back and get it?

- Yeah, sure.
- Okay.

- Go on. Wait a minute.
- What?

I locked the car.
You'll need keys to get in.

Oh.

Right. Thank you.

- Okay. I'll be right back.
- Okay.

- Just hurry up.
- Yeah, just a little minute.

Oh, that fucking bitch!

Shh! Calm down.

There's a fucking house
right there.

What do we do now?

We do what we came to do.

And when we're done,
we split up and hitch home.

Any more questions?

Hm?

Okay, pig killers,
let's kill some piggies.

All right.

Oh, someone's hungry.

All right.

It's feeding time.

Brandy, couch.

And don't you mo...

Oh, man.

Uh...

The train
has left the station.

Bad idea.

Whoa.

You go around there,
see if there's a back entrance.

All right? Go.

Hey.

I am doing the best I can
under the circumstances.

Now, I do not want
to get into it tonight.

Uh... can I help you?

Shit.

How many other people
are here?

Oh, just the one sleeping
in the back there.

Go get him and bring him
into the living room.

What if he says no?

Don't take no for an answer.

You're the one with the knife.
Get him in here!

Hey.

You are real, right?

I'm as real as a doughnut,
motherfucker.

What the fuck?

Go to the living room.

What is going on, huh?

- Go!
- - Okay. Si, si.

Who the fuck's that?

I don't know.

Francesca.

Oh. Uh...

What...?

Oh, I know you.

I know all three of you.

Yeah. Spahn Ranch.

Spahn Ranch. Yeah. Hoo!

I don't know your name,
but I remember that hair.

And you, I remember
your white little face.

And you were on a horsie.

Yeah.

Uh... You are...?

I'm the devil,

and I'm here to do
the devil's business.

Nah, it was dumber than that.
Something like... Rex.

- God, shoot him, Tex!
- Tex.

Fuck!

Son of a bitch!

Hey, you.

How dare you come into my house,
motherfucker!

Wow, man.

What the fuck?

Jesus Christ.

Holy shit.

Francesca! Francesca, honey!

10,000 block, Cielo Drive.

Around what time was it
when you confronted the intruder?

It was about midnight.

- Around midnight?
- Yeah.

How do you know
it was midnight?

Well, I was, uh...
I was in the kitchen.

You know, I was
making margaritas, and, uh...

I heard the sound
of a noisy muffler.

I looked up at the clock.

It said... The kitchen clock
said midnight.

Twelve o'clock exactly?

I mean,
it could have been 12:05.

- Something like that.
- And you didn't see them again

until the woman attacked you
in the pool.

No, no.

So,
what did these perpetrators do?

Perpetrators?
They were hippie assholes.

Two of them burst through
the front door there,

and the guy hippie
said he was the devil.

And he said, "I'm here to...

do some devil shit."

Or...
That's not verbatim, but...

- "Some devil shit"?
- Yeah, "devil shit."

And away we go.

Hey. Wait a minute.
Wait a minute.

What hospital you going to,
Cliff?

I'll meet you there, huh?

You don't want to meet me
in no hospital.

Why don't you go take care
of your lady.

Hey, she just took
five fucking sleeping pills.

She'll be asleep
till Columbus Day.

These guys will probably
have to come out here again

- just to wake her ass up.
- Hey, I'm not gonna die.

I may get a limp,
but I ain't gonna die.

- It's not my time yet, man.
- All right.

So no use waiting
in some waiting room.

Why don't you go lie naked
with that fine creature.

Come visit me tomorrow.

Bring bagels.

You want to do something for me,
check on Brandy.

She may be a little shook up
after that.

- She may want to sleep with you.
- Are you kidding me?

She's sleeping
with Francesca right now.

You might never get her back.
Ha, ha.

- We got to go.
- All right, then, Cliff.

I'll see you tomorrow, then.

Hey. Hey.

You're a good friend, Cliff.

I try.

Hello?

Hey.

I'm Jay Sebring.

I'm a friend of the Polanskis.

You're Rick Dalton,
right?

Yeah. Yeah. I'm Rick Dalton.

- Live next door.
- Oh, I know.

I tease Sharon that she lives
next door to Jake Cahill.

If she ever wants to put
a bounty on Roman,

she just has to go next door,
right?

No shit.

What the fuck happened?

Oh, th-these fucking
hippie weirdos,

they-they-they
broke into my house.

What do you mean, like,
trying to rob you?

We don't know what the fuck
they wanted.

Were they robbing me?
I don't know.

Were they freaking out
on some bummer trip?

Who knows? But they tried
to kill my wife and my buddy.

- Jesus Christ. Are you serious?
- Yeah, I'm fucking serious.

Now, my buddy and his dog
killed two of them, and then...

Well, shit.
I-I torched the last one.

- "Torched"?
- Yeah.

I burnt her ass to a crisp.

- How'd you do that?
- Well, believe it or not, I...

I got a flamethrower
in my toolshed.

Oh, from The Fourteen Fists
of McCluskey.

Yeah!

Yeah. Yeah.

That's... That's the one.

Yeah, it still works too.
Thank God.

Is everybody okay?

Well, the fucking hippies
aren't,

that's for goddamn sure.

Yeah. But I'm fine.

You know, my wife's fine.

We're just a little shook up,
is all.

- Oh, my God, that's terrifying.
- Yeah.

Jay,
honey, is everything all right?

Everything's okay now, honey.

But some hippies
broke into the house next door.

Oh, my God.

Oh, that's terrifying.

Is everybody okay?

I'm talking to your next-door
neighbor about it right now.

Rick Dalton?

Yeah, that's me. Heh.

Oh. Well, hello, neighbor.

Is everybody okay?

Yes, Sharon,
everybody's fine.

Are you okay?

Well, yes, I am.
Thank you for asking that.

Rick,
would you like to come up to the house

for a drink
and meet my other friends?

Yeah, sure.
Thank you.

Oh, hooray! Great.
I'll buzz you up.

Come on.

- Hey, nice to meet you, huh?
- Yeah.

- Jay Sebring.
- Hey, pleasure.

- Yeah.
- Pleasure, Jay.

Pleasure's all mine.

Sounds like you had
a hell of a night.

Hi. This is Rick Dalton,

better known as bounty hunter
Jake Cahill,

speaking on behalf
of Red Apple cigarettes.

Now, I smoke Red Apples.
Been smoking them for years.

But since the Red Apple
tobacco company's

been around since 1862,

you'll see Jake Cahill
smoke Red Apple too.

Now, back in Jake's day,
Red Apple came in a pouch,

and he had to roll his own.

But today, Red Apple
comes factory-rolled.

For the best drag
with the best tobacco flavor,

with less burn on your throat

than any other
non-filtered cigarette.

Mm!

Now, that's the way
a cigarette should taste.

Hm.

Better drag, more flavor,

less throat burn.

That's the Red Apple way.

So look for this life-size
standee of me, Jake Cahill,

wherever fine Red Apple tobacco
products are sold.

Take a bite
and feel all right.

Take a bite of
a Red Apple.

Tell them Jake sent you.

And cut.

This cigarette tastes like
fucking shit.

And, by the way,
who chose this photo?

I have a double chin.
All right?

Nobody notices that crap?