All language subtitles for Roadgames

(brakes squeaking)

- Ah, last motel in town again, hey Boswell?

Well it's not exactly the Ritz, but

it sure beats spending another night in the truck,

right mate?

Hey listen, get some nice clean sheets

and a hot shower, and after that we'll hop

into a restaurant, and get some nice chow.

A little pate foie gras, veal scallopini,

dry marsala, and if we're lucky

we might even get a Disco Dolly for dessert, right mate?

Oh and I won't forget the doggy bag.

Salacious vermin.

Base four to gypsy three niner seven.

Base four to gypsy three niner seven, do you copy?

- Oh God, shall we?

Base four to gypsy three niner seven.

Do you copy?

- Mayday, mayday, this is flight 77,

I seem to be in a great deal of trouble.

I'm going down, I need help, over.

Is that you, gypsy three niner seven?

- Negative, darling, this is Quid.

Patrick Anthony Quid, as in British Sterling, over.

Three niner seven, we have a priority

urgent from Perth.

Melbourne Meatworks, 5AM, over.

- Negative, base four, I haven't slept since Wednesday.

I'm hallucinating, over.

I thought you truck drivers took pills

for that sort of thing.

- Darling, just because I drive a truck

does not make me a truck driver, over.

Come on three nine seven, is that affirmative?

There's a strike in the west, they need meat.

- Sweetheart, there seems to be

a great deal of interference here,

but I love you, I've always loved you, over.

Why do we always have trouble with you.

Three nine seven?

All right. We'll go double time just this once.

- Affirmative, base four.

5AM meat works, double time.

Over and out.

Hey Boswell, isn't that that young fox

we saw hitchhiking on the other side of the weighbridge?

I told you we should have picked her up.

Now that clown's gonna get her.

(sirens wailing)

Hey, don't look at me. Pal.

Use Smith or Jones, what's the difference?

I mean, who cares nowadays?

Let's go.

Come on.

Oh God.

First he steals my girl. Then he takes my bed.

Okay, Bozzy.

It's you and me. Pal.

Now listen.

No snoring and no evil smells.

L hope she steals his wallet.

I'll bet she doesn't even wait to take her socks off.

(gentle acoustic guitar)

(clock ticking)

(guitar strings creaking)

(whining guitar music)

(clock ticking)

(soft guitar music)

(garbage cans crashing)

(man shouting)

(dog whining)

(razor buzzing)

(man shouting)

(sirens wailing)

(dog barking)

Boz!

(man shouting)

Hey boys.

I haul it in, you haul it out, right?

(Western music)

With full devote courage of sundry folk by adventure fall

in fellowship and pilgrims were they all.

Good morning. Pilgrims!

Morning!

Me thinketh it according to resound to tell you all...

Hello, been away on holiday, aye?

Lovely.

(child laughing)

To Warrnambool.

Fred Frugal and his wife. Frita.

Frita Frugal.

(woman talking)

Bet she's a real dragon.

You should have turned right at the last left,

and I told you. But you never listen.

Poor guy.

I bet he's an accountant.

Maybe a school teacher.

Nah, an accountant.

You better watch it kids. Not careful, you'll stay in

that position for life.

Now there's a man with balls.

(dog whimpers)

Benny balls.

(slow Western music)

(whistling)

Ha, Bozzy, there's something in the autumn air that

sets the gypsy blood a stir.

(sneezing)

Sneezy rider.

Hors d'oeuvre?

(whistling)

Hey. Bozzy, there's another one.

Maybe oughta pick this one up and take her to Perth with me.

Dazzling her with my stylish rhetoric and witty innuendo.

Aye. What do you think?

No?

Maybe you're right, it's against regulations.

(soft music)

Alright, mate, that's nine Jap traps, six Yank tanks,

and three vws, which beats your Rolls Royce by ten points.

You wanna keep playin'?

Alright, I'll tell ya what. I'II give you an extra

two points for the trailer, okay?

Alright, alright, make it three.

I don't wanna argue with ya.

You know. That's the trouble with you Australians.

You take your games too seriously.

Ahoy, Captain Careful.

Bound to the sea in a ship born of your own patient hands.

Aye, matey?

(horn honking)

What's the matter, Boswell?

Something wrong?

(foreboding music)

Well, well, if it isn't our friend from the motel.

Hey, heave to, friend, pull over your port side.

(engine rumbling)

(glass shattering)

(horn honking)

(dog moaning)

What's the matter, buddy?

Something about that van you're not telling me?

(foreboding music)

Wonder why he doesn't pass?

Maybe he's after our meat, huh?

I wonder if he's still got that young fox with him.

Let's see if we can get a better look.

(engine rumbling)

Why does anybody get up at 5 o'clock in the morning

to watch the garbage collectors?

(radio crackling)

Occasion, really, but my apologies to

listeners.

(radio mumbling)

(harmonica hums)

(classical music)

The time is 1 o'clock, the weather is

clear and stable. My name is Warwick Boss...

(harmonic humming) ...this is the news. A council worker in the Brisbane suburb of Eagle Farm.

Was shocked today when he discovered

a human hand amongst debris in a storm water drain.

The identity of its owner is unknown,

but the hand will be packed in ice and sent to Sydney

for comparison with a human leg discovered

in a Townsville tannery last week.

Police are denying speculation of a Jack the Ripper type

murder at large, and claim the two grisly items

are probably unconnected and isolated.

The United Beef Workers Federation has blamed the

critical shortages of meat in retail outlets..

- Well, well. (Radio murmuring)

(harmonica humming)

..who is the principle antagonist in the strike,

which has left Perth without meat.

The spokesman for the federation has asked that anyone

knowing the whereabouts of Mr. Day who is believed

to be returning with his family from the Nirvana Caravan.

Park, Warrnambool...

- Sucker.

(harmonica humming)

(tires screeching)

(heavy tumbling)

- Hello there!

- Wait, miss, I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to pick up

hitchhikers.

- Oh, I'm not a hitchhiker, I'm not hitchhiking.

My idiot husband drove off and left me here.

We can catch 'em if ya hurry.

Why, isn't this cozy.

So high up.

Hope I don't get truck sick.

Oh, my name's Madeline Day.

- Pleased to meet you.

- But Floyd, that's my husband, the idiot, he calls me Sunny

as in Sunny Day.

- Sounds like a wild and crazy guy, your husband.

- Oh, that's nothing, we've got a daughter, Doris Day.

Like the movie star.

We can go now if you don't mind.

- Well, I can take ya as far as Yellowdine.

There's a roadhouse there, and you can phone the police.

(coughing)

- Your dog doesn't bite, does it?

- Oh. He's not a dog.

- It looks like a dog.

- He's a dingo.

- Dingo?

- Yeah.

Well, why would anybody wanna keep a dingo for?

- Well, I like him.

He doesn't eat too much, he's quiet.

- A dingo's a kind of dog, so what's the difference?

- A dog is a parasite hybrid.

I mean, he chases cars. He barks at shadows,

and he eats his own faeces.

But a dingo, dingo's clean, he's intelligent,

he's quiet.

Fact, he's physically incapable of barking.

That's why they call him the silent dog.

He's an aristocrat.

Like me.

- Are all truck drivers as stuck up as you?

- Madam. Just because I drive a truck does not make me

a truck driver.

- Oh, you and your tundra wolf sitting up here in your

ivory tower.

L bet you're not even married, are you?

- No.

(engine rumbling)

- Why aren't you going to pick her up?

- Lady, that hitch is getting to Perth faster than we are.

- That's no reason to call her a bitch. Is it?

Oh, hitch. Language.

- Hitch. As in hitchhiker.

- Well, a gentleman would have picked her up

with this maniac running 'round loose butchering girls.

- What maniac?

- The one on the radio, on the news.

- Yeah, go on.

- I don't know, it's just some maniac.

- Yeah? Well, what else did they say about him?

Did they say what kind of rig he drove?

- I didn't say he was driving a rig.

No. No. No, I mean...

- How did you know my husband was an accountant?

- Just a guess.

- How far away is this roadhouse?

- It's not far.

- Good.

(western music)

We have an accident here. We're clearing the road.

Would you please pull over?

- Where are we going?

- Shortcut.

(engine rumbling)

Wait a minute, I've got it, the hoochie coochie doll.

- It's mineral. Not animal.

Oh, I don't know, I've guessed about everything in the truck.

- You never said it had to be in the truck.

- Well, that's ridiculous.

It could be a thousand things outside the truck.

- You're the one who wanted to play games.

Give up?

- Yeah, guess so.

- It's ya boots.

- My boots?

- Leather is an animal product.

- Uh uh, my boots are imitation leather.

They're vinyl, a thermal plastic radical.

- La di da.

- Which makes them either mineral or vegetable,

but they're certainly not animal.

So, I win, right?

- But you gave up!

- Okay, okay, okay.

Hey, it's my turn.

- Okay.

- Animal.

- That fly there.

- Now, look, if you're not gonna play the game properly

I don't wanna play at all.

- Well, it's not the fly?

- Yes. It is the fly, but you're taking all the fun

out of it, you've gotta ask the questions,

you gotta narrow it down more logically.

- Okay, this time I've got a real good one.

- No. I've had enough.

- Oh, come on, it's really easy,

and it's not even animal product.

It's just plain, ordinary animal.

- Okay, but no tricks.

- I'll give you a clue.

It's bigger than a bread box.

- Me?

- No.

- Boswell?

- No.

- Well, it's gotta be you.

- Wrong.

- Lady, if there is an animal bigger than a breadbox

inside this truck. You better tell me about it.

- L never said it was inside the truck.

- The pigs?

- No.

Kangaroo?

- No.

An emu? No.

- Well, the Nullarbor nymph?

Lawrence ofA friggin' rabia, I don't know, this is crazy.

You give up?

Yeah, I guess so.

It's that man back there.

- I didn't see any man back there.

Course you didn't. You were too busy arguing

but there was a man back there standing beside a dark

green van and he was digging a hole.

(brakes screech)

- What the hell is he doing?

- I told you. Digging a hole.

What's wrong?

(foreboding music)

What's wrong?

(shushing noise)

(foreboding music)

(engine rumbling)

(tyres screeching)

- What the hell was he burying?

- Is this another game?

- Why does a man stop in the middle of nowhere,

and dig a hole?

- Maybe he had to, you know, go to the toilet.

- Lady, you don't understand.

This same guy picked up a hitchhiker last night,

and then about 4:30 this morning

he watched the garbage bags being collected

outside the motel,

and now he's burying more garbage.

Doesn't that seem a little weird to you. Lady?

- You truck drivers take drugs, don't you?

You've got the DDTs.

- Cast to the wind thy ghastly sin.

- Pardon?

- That's it.

The ghastly sin is dissipated.

Erased from existence,

and another thing a body wouldn't last half a day out here

with all the birds and the insects.

- I don't know what you're talking about.

- I'm talking about sex.

L am talking about sex.

Stolen from a young girl in the back of a van

or a seedy motel.

I'm talking about guilt.

Terrible guilt.

Awful guilt.

A guilt so terrible that it can only be obliterated

by spreading the evidence all over the countryside.

Jesus.

- L think I'd like to get out here.

- No, wait, wait a minute, now don't be silly.

Now. Listen. What exactly did they say about this guy

on the news?

- I don't know what you mean, I don't know anything.

- Hey, now come on, lady. - You're supposed to be

the authority on weirdos.

Now, come on. Help me out.

It was something about Jack the Ripper or...

- I don't know what you're talking about!

- I'm just talking about a hunch, that's all.

- I wanna get out!

- Wait, wait, wait, first, I've got a game.

- I don't wanna play.

- It's animal.

- No!

- It's bigger than a breadbox,

but it's small enough to fit in a plastic rubbish bag.

- That is a sick game.

A human being is not an animal!

I know what you're thinking and it wouldn't fit

in a rubbish bag!

- Oh, yes, it would if you cut off the damn head!

- Stop it!

(sobbing)

- Hey, lady!

Lady!

Lady, stop!

(terrifying orchestral music)

Now, lady. I am not gonna hurt you, I promise.

Listen. You stopped me on the road. Remember?

I'm just a truck driver.

I know I talk a lot and I'm given the flights of the

imagination, but there's no need to be afraid of me.

Lady, please, let's just go back to the truck, okay?

- We don't want trouble, we never wanted trouble.

- Yeah, but who does?

- Then they threatened my children.

Horrible phone calls late at night. They killed our dog.

When the police came. They said the strike

was Floyd's fault.

We've got our own problems, mister, we don't need

anybody else's.

I didn't see any man back there, understand?

- Yeah. I think I do.

No vans or lunch boxes or anything to do with police

and no more games.

- Right.

No more games.

Hello, hello, I'm trying to get in touch with the nearest

police station.

Right, right, hold on a second.

Hello. My name is Quid, and I'm calling from the roadhouse

at Yellowdine.

Sorry, Yellow 'dyne'.

Right, listen, I may have some information regarding

those murders that you're investigating.

Yeah, no, no, no, my name is Quid.

Quid!

Patrick Quid.

(twinkling music)

Q-U-I-D!

Quid!

As in pound note.

Right, I'm a truck driver.

A truckie, right!

Listen, I may have some...

Hello?

Sorry, sorry.

No, I was saying...

I'm trying to, but I think we got a bad connection here.

And listen, I'd rather not get into it over the phone

if you don't mind.

What does it matter what my name is?

I can't stick around, I can't involved.

I've got a load of meat that...

It has to do with this business on the news about...

What?

No, meat!

Pigs!

(thumping noise)

I'm carrying meat, mate!

M-E-A-T!

As in meat!

Right. Well, it has to do with a guy in a dark green van.

What?

(man muttering)

Well, I'm trying to, but listen if you just hold on,

and listen to me for a second...

Excuse me.

Have any of you fellas seen a guy in a dark green van?

(radio murmuring)

(coin jingling)

Thanks.

(loud rock music)

I'm sorry.

No, I was talking about a guy in a green...

Green. (Loud rock music)

Green, hold on, hold on, just a second.

Hey. Man, would you kill that music, please?

Hello?

What?

No, it's Quid!

Q as in quartermaster, U as in utopia, I as in ice cream.

I-C-E-C-R-E...

Oh, Jesus.

I cannot stick around, I have gotta get my porkers to Perth!

No, no, it's Q-U-I-D!

D as in death to young girls, you cretin!

(phone clanging)

Excuse me.

(twinkling music)

- That your dingo?

- Yeah.

- There's a bounty on 'em in this district.

- Well, he's just a pet, and anyway, we're travellin'

on through.

- Neither here nor there to the locals. Sport.

They shoot 'em on sight.

The law.

You wouldn't wanna break the law, would ya. Mate?

- Boswell!

Boz!

- Madeline Day. But Floyd. - That's my husband. The idiot,

he calls me Sunny as in Sunny Day.

(Madeline muttering)

(dog whines)

- Boswell. What happened?

(engine rumbling)

Son of a bitch!

(engine rumbling)

(car rumbling)

(horn honking)

(boat ringing)

What the hell?

(boat ringing)

(horn honking)

What the hell's gotten into him?

(bell ringing)

(horn honking)

(crashing noise)

Okay, buddy, if that's the way you want it.

(grinding noise)

(crashing)

(metal scraping)

(tyres screeching)

(boat ringing)

(loud crashing)

(thunking noise)

(tyres screech)

Well, what do you know about that?

What do you say. Boswell?

Third time lucky?

Aren't you kinda young to be hitchhiking out here

by yourself?

- Aren't you kinda old to be picking me up?

- It's not a pick up, it's just a lift.

I don't usually pick up hitchhikers.

- What makes me the exception?

- L don't know.

I guess I kinda felt sorry for ya.

- L didn't know there were any chivalrous truck drivers.

Oh, what happened to your dingo?

- You didn't, by any chance, happen to see a guy

in a green van?

- Yeah, why?

I wonder why he didn't pick me up.

- You sound a little disappointed that he didn't.

And how old are you anyway, hitch?

- Old enough. How old are you?

- Old enough to be your father.

- My father's 67.

- Oh.

- You know, maybe he makes love to 'em first.

- Hitch, does your 67 year old father know you accept rides

from truck drivers?

My name isn't hitch.

- Does your mother know you're gone?

- She's dead.

My father lives with a whore.

- So, you ran away?

- No, I walked away.

- Well. Hitch, don't you think it might be a good idea

to call him and let him know that you're alright?

- Ah, maybe that's how he gets his rocks off.

- Your father?

- No, your Mr. Smith or Jones.

You know, the Boston Strangler was on a sex trip.

God, maybe he makes love to 'em afterwards.

- Oh, c'mon.

- Well, why do you think he does it?

- L don't know, I mean I really don't know that he does.

I don't want us to get carried away about this.

- Are you kidding?

It's the most fun I've had all afternoon.

Okay, I've got a game.

Good, scrabble.

No, let's call it the Smith or Jones game.

Sounds interesting.

Alright. Now let's assume that there is a method

to his madness.

That everything he does is for a logical purpose, right?

Okay.

- Okay, now he's just killed a girl.

- Did he make love to her first?

- L don't know, what's the difference?

- It makes a lot of difference.

I think in order to play the game properly,

we have to know what he thinks of women.

- It's my game!

- Okay. Sherlock.

- It's the method we're interested in.

Now, he just killed this girl.

Now, how does he destroy the evidence?

- Cuts it up.

- Yeah. But why?

- So, the pieces won't be found.

- Yeah, but pieces don't prove anything.

I mean, you can put an arm or a leg out with the garbage

and it proves nothing, right?

- That's ridiculous.

- Yeah, but it's the law.

I mean, you can lose an arm or a leg without necessarily

being dead, right?

- Yeah, but...

- But if you lose your torso, you're definitely dead.

- You lose your torso, I think you've had it.

- But one torso is pretty much like another that...

- Oh, foul!

You lose a turn.

I don't think it's so important what he does.

It's why. I mean, what does he think of women?

- You're kidding?

- No. I mean, wouldn't you like to know what he's thinking?

You know, get inside his head.

- I'd like to get inside his friggin' lunchbox.

L'II tell you what he thinks of women. He despises them.

He thinks they're pigs.

- But why?

You know what I think?

I think you have much more fun sitting up here with your

stereo and your air conditioning and your dingo.

L don't think you wanna know.

You always done this?

- No. I've not always done this.

When I was your age. I was first mate on a gun boat

in the Persian Golf.

- John bloody Wayne.

- Well. The time I was 30. - I was transporting guns

across the Sudan border by camel.

- By camel.

Now you're pushing piggies to Perth.

- Hitch, don't you think you should let somebody

know you're alright?

Nah, why?

- Your father might have the cops out lookin' for ya.

- Nah, he wouldn't do that.

- Oh yeah?

(siren wailing)

- Would you step down, please?

(radio murmuring)

What you carrying?

- Pigs.

- You in the habit of picking up hitchhikers?

- No.

- You pick up a hitchhiker last night?

- What?

- The manager of the Melbourne Car Motel

claims you checked in with a young lady

fitting the description of a missing person.

- Me?

- Your name is on the register.

- What?

Well, look. Anybody could've copied my name off the truck.

- Why would anyone want to do that?

- Now, wait a minute.

What happened to that girl anyway?

- What makes you think something happened to her?

- Well, look, I don't want to get hung for something

I didn't do.

- Meat is hung, men are hanged.

- What's happening?

What? Did you tell 'em about the lunchbox yet?

- Oh. Sure.

- And where were you a week ago last Saturday?

- Port Hedland, I was carrying some mining equipment.

- And the Saturday before that?

- Melbourne, yeah, I was laid up overnight in Melbourne.

Why?

- The logbook confirms he was where he said he was, serg.

- Logbooks can be cheated.

Book of lies they're called, aren't they, Mr. Quid?

- Has this got something to do with the thing that happened

on the radio?

Because if it does. I suggest that you

catch up with the guy in the green van because...

- According to this logbook, you should have had a

12 hour stop over two days ago.

You don't have much respect for the law, do ya, mate?

Well. If that young lady you shacked up with last night

has come to any harm, we'II know exactly who to talk to.

Won't we?

- It wasn't me.

Now, if you don't believe me you can talk to the manager

of the motel.

- How long you had that dingo?

- Four or five years, why?

(engine rumbling)

- What's the matter? - Didn't they believe you?

- Believe me?

I'm lucky they didn't shoot Boswell.

- Did you tell them about our little friend?

- Who?

What? The guy in the van.

The guy... I beg your pardon?

- Oh, I get it.

You know what this means, don't you?

We're just gonna have to get him ourselves.

- Oh. Sure.

Elementary. My dear Watson.

Except our friend in the van could be all the way

to Perth or Timbuktu for all we know.

- I don't get you, first. You tell everybody this story,

and now you don't want to do a damn thing about it.

- No, not today.

- Why not today?

- Look, Hitch.

I'm not trying to lay a trip on you. But we gotta pull

over for the night.

- Why?

- Regulations.

Nothing beside remains.

'Round the decay of that colossal wreck.

Boundless and bare.

Alone and level sands stretch far away.

So, you like my place?

- Needs work.

- Well, I only keep it to impress the ladies.

- Yeah, I bet you they're real impressed, too.

First stop on the Pat Quid guided tour.

- Hitch, you can leave any time.

- What? Are you gonna call me a cab?

By the way, name is Pamela, not Hitch.

- Pamela what?

- That's all you need to know.

- I don't get it. - What's the mystery?

Are you on the lam or something?

- What if I was?

Would you turn me in?

- Me? No.

Well, I'm not.

- So, what have you got to hide?

The fact that your somebody's daughter?

- Most girls are usually somebody's daughter.

- But you're not just somebody's, right?

- You're quick.

- Well, I mean you're not what I would call the

typical hitchhiker.

L mean it's kind of obvious that that look is not early.

Salvation Army.

So, come on.

Who's your dad?

Come on!

L promise I won't hold it against ya.

- He's in the diplomatic service, let's call it.

- And you didn't like the service?

- Life was incredibly diplomatic in Canberra.

- Now, you're lookin' for a little adventure?

- I'd go to Disneyland for a little adventure.

What I'm looking for is a little excitement.

What is this place, anyway?

- Oh, it's old telegraph station.

It used to be a town of about 700 people who lived here.

What happened to 'em?

- They were devoured

by the dreaded Oryctolagus Cuniculus.

- Sounds erotic.

- Listen, listen very carefully, you can hear him out there.

Munching.

Is he animal, mineral, or vegetable?

Or is it man?

Advancing like an army of plastic dentures

devouring his fellow man?

- And woman!

- And woman.

- Thank you.

What is it? Kermit?

(laughing)

Cunaclum?

- Cuniculus.

- What is it, anyway?

- A rabbit.

A bunny rabbit, no, I'm serious.

In the 1800s, it was a plague of rabbits here.

And they ate all the vegetation,

and the sand dunes began to advance.

It's why everybody left.

I guess it's why I like it here.

Rabbits?

You're weird.

- Where ya goin'?

- Use your imagination.

- Hitch.

Pamela.

Watch out for the bunnies, huh?

(harmonica humming)

(thunder rumbling)

(soft guitar music)

(lightning crackles)

(foreboding music)

(soft orchestral music)

- Hello?

Hello! Hi!

What are you doing?

- Just keepin' the passengers cold, can you shut the door?

You'll let the cold out.

Goodbye, young porkers!

Goodbye and keep cold!

Grade 50 above, more than 50 below.

How ya doin'?

- Okay.

- Robert Frost.

- How'd ya sleep?

- Not bad.

L can sleep on a fence post.

How 'bout you?

(Pamela grunts)

Sleep not, dream not.

This bright day. Will not cannot last for aye.

- Emily Bronte.

- Right.

- Read much of her stuff?

- Yeah, I have.

- In school?

- No, I didn't go to school.

Self-educated more or less.

What's that old expression?

Education is hanging around long enough...

- Why do you always do that?

- Do what?

- Talk in poems.

- Do I?

- Poems are old and dusty.

You're not old and dusty.

How old are you?

- Too old.

- I don't think so.

- What's that?

- Pig in a poke, you better start shakin'.

Today's pig is tomorrow's bacon.

- TS Elliott?

- Hi, Daddy, it's me!

No, I'm fine.

Doesn't matter where I am, I'm fine!

Hello. Nancy.

What do you mean, get raped?

He's actually a very nice guy.

Yes, he is a truck driver...

Look. I didn't call you...

I didn't call to get yelled at.

L just wanted to let you know I'm fine.

(alarm ringing)

No, I'm not coming back, not now.

Look, I'll call ya later, alright?

(alarm ringing)

(man shouting)

- What he say?

- He was very diplomatic.

Then my step hooker got on the line,

wants to know if I've been laying truck drivers.

See what I'm up against?

- Yeah, well, at least they know you're alive.

Jesus, let's get out of here, that noise is driving

me crazy!

- I gotta use the ladies room!

- Okay, make it snappy!

(alarm ringing)

- Quid!

(alarm ringing)

- Here.

Excuse me.

(Quid muttering)

(alarm ringing)

(Pamela gasps)

Wait here.

(alarm ringing)

(man shouting)

Kinda caught you with your pants down, didn't we?

You slimy son of a bitch!

You know, butchering young girls is one thing,

but when you hurt my animal

you made a big mistake, pal.

What's the matter? Cat got your tongue. You miserable stink?

(man muttering)

Word of advice, shithead, you try anything funny,

and this dog is gonna have your eggs for breakfast.

(clock ticking)

(Pamela gasps)

You know, there's no way out.

Except down the S bend or through me, cowboy.

I'm talkin' to you. Mr. Smith or friggin' Jones,

or whatever your name is!

(dog wheezing)

(sneezing)

Oh, I'm sorry, mate.

L thought it was somebody else.

I apologise, really, l...

Hitch!

(startling orchestral music)

Go to the truck. Boswell!

(screaming)

(engine rumbling)

Shit.

Boswell!

Look out. Mate. Look out!

- Watch out for the dingo, he's vicious!

- That's right!

He'll go straight for your crotch if you're not careful!

Hey. Hey!

If you read about this in the papers tomorrow morning,

you'll know what it's all about!

(exciting orchestral music)

You gonna go straight for his crotch. Buddy?

That's funny, he's slowin' down.

Maybe he's outta gas.

Maybe this is some new kinda game.

She doesn't look too kidnapped to me.

Does she to you. Buddy?

What the hell is she doin'? Psychoanalysin' him?

Hey, you don't think she'd be stupid enough to try

and blackmail him, do ya?

Well. I don't know, Bozzy.

Maybe we been barkin' up the wrong tree.

(horn honks)

(foreboding orchestral music)

I told ya, man. I told ya the first time we picked her up,

she is trouble.

I knew we shouldn't have done it.

I hope she steals...

Well, at least she didn't get my wallet.

Now, she's all yours. Mr. Smith or friggin' Jones.

Whatever your game is.

I mean, let's face it, what have we got on him anyway,

Boz. Huh?

What do we know about him?

I'll tell you what we know about him.

We know absolutely zilch, nada.

I mean, is it against the law to dig a friggin' hole

in the desert?

Is it a crime to have a lunchbox and thump dingoes?

Or put out rubbish bags out 5 o'clock in the morning?

What does that prove?

So, what if he is a murderer and he's going around

systematically butchering every female in sight,

and makin' 'em into tacos, who gives a shit?

If the cops don't care about it, I tell ya, I don't.

L mean why is it my responsibility to take care of

road waves?

We are truckers, Boswell, and from now on we're gonna

truck and I don't wanna hear another word about it!

(radio murmuring)

This is the news in brief.

The United Meatworks Federation still sees no end in sight

to the marathon strike, which has left most of West

Australia without fresh supplies of meat.

The spokesperson for the union denied allegations

that union strong arm tactics have been used against

the United Meatworks accountant. Mr. Floyd Day.

Although, it is alleged that Mr. Day and his family

have fled interstate.

Police in Melbourne and Perth are seeking the assistance

of motorists in connection with the disappearance

of 20 year old heiress, Pamela Rushworth,

daughter of US diplomatic adviser, Warren Rushworth.

According to Mr. Rushworth, his daughter is traveling west

with a truck driver described in his mid 40's.

Police have fears that the truck driver, whose name

has not yet been released, may be the same man

wanted in connection with the disappearance of a missing

Melbourne girl.

Authorities are denying any positive connection

between the two missing girls, and the series of macabre

attacks on young female hitchhikers in Queensland

and New South Whales.

Although. They remind the public that hitchhiking is

extremely dangerous and of course, illegal.

Allegations by a senior medical officer in Sydney today

that drivers who operate vehicles under the influence

of drugs...

(radio murmuring)

(engine rumbling)

- Maniac.

He cuts 'em up like a Sunday roast. And the cops are out

lookin' for me.

They got nothing on me.

Nothing.

I'm not worried.

I can prove it.

Well, autopsy, handwriting expert,

dispatcher.

I was on the road that night.

Hitch.

What was her name?

Pamela, I think it was Pamela.

(Quid thinking) Jesus. I hope they didn't see... No.

Cops couldn't have seen her.

What am I going to do with this truck?

(truck rumbling)

(foreboding orchestral music)

Hitch?

(dog whimpers)

(woman moaning)

(dog whimpering)

(dog whining)

Coward.

(woman moaning)

Oh, Harry!

- Harry?

(woman moaning)

Harry and Hitch.

Hitch and Harry.

Didn't even bother to park the van.

(glass shattering)

(clock ticking)

Boswell!

(whistles)

(truck rumbling)

I honestly thought she was worth something.

Falls on her back, legs up.

Ready to give a good whack to the first Tom, Dick.

Or friggin' Harry that comes along.

Oh, they're all the same.

They do it like animals.

No offense, pal.

Forget it, buddy. She isn't worth a second glance.

(foreboding orchestral music)

Boy, I'll tell ya, I may have to start taking dope.

I gotta do something do get rid of these hallucinations.

(startling orchestral music)

Maybe he does make love to 'em first.

One thing for sure, I need some sleep.

(soft thumping)

(foreboding orchestral music)

(dog whining)

(thumping)

What's the matter. Buddy? You hear that?

(thumping)

(dog howls)

Oh, great, that's just what I need for the freakin' meat

just to thaw out.

(dog whines)

What's the matter, buddy?

You know something I don't?

Just hold on, stay here.

(door creaks)

350 pigs.

Four on this side, four on this side.

(Quid muttering)

20 on this side.

(Quid muttering)

(car rumbling)

352, 350. What's the difference?

We just miscounted. That's all.

350 divided by eight...

- And I forgot to latch the doors this morning

when I was talkin' to Hitch.

You know what probably happened?

Sam just threw a couple of extras in by mistake.

Sam doesn't make mistakes.

- Maybe he was a little pale, I don't know.

He's always taking care of his friends at Perth.

Happens all the time.

That's 35 times two.

- And the meat at the front wasn't frozen because...

Why?

- Well, we were goin' so damn fast that the cold air

being heavier. Well, being more dense

just wasn't circulating, that's all.

Hot air.

Yeah, that's all.

(anxious orchestral music)

(exciting orchestral music)

Steep descent.

It's all down hill from here, Harry.

Come on, baby, we're gaining on 'em.

Come on.

He's slowin' down again.

(van rumbling)

He's run outta gas, I knew it.

Ah, shit.

Hey, Lester!

- Hey there, Quid!

- It looks like you got some heat tonight.

- Bloody cops.

- Who they lookin' for anyway?

- Ah. Always lookin' for some poor bastard.

Let's get you weighed.

- Right.

(radio murmuring)

- Hey, you are 75 kilos over!

- Really?

- 'Bout the weight of a hot TV set, eh?

(laughing)

How's the book of lies? All in order?

- Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah.

Listen, Lester, I've got a kind of priority, urgent

situation...

- Say no more, I won't hold you up.

Hey. What are you carrying?

- Meat!

- Seems a bit more like marijuana to me, eh.

Bloody animal, not mine. I wouldn't have one myself.

No, no, it's a new TRB thing, they train them to sniff out

marijuana.

- You got me, I confess.

- Crazy bastard, he wouldn't know pot from pot roast.

- Yeah.

Listen, Lester. I better get these piggies to market.

- I've got a fresh pot of coffee on, and you know.

- Oh, thanks, Lester, that's real nice of ya.

But I'll take a rain check, okay?

- Oh, right, right.

On your way!

(truck rumbles)

Hold it, Quid!

You got something wrapped around your axle!

- What is it?

- It's a bunch of wire and shit!

Probably why you're.

- Alright. Lester, just let it be. - It'll be alright! Thanks anyway!

- I got some wire cutters in the office!

It'II only take a second...

- No thanks, Les, I'll see ya later!

- But you're gonna bugger up your trailer

unless ya do something!

- Yeah, thanks for the hand!

(Lester shouting)

(foreboding orchestral music)

Sneaky bastard.

(horn honking)

(tyres screeching)

(siren wailing)

Christ, talk about the meat in a sandwich.

He wants us to follow him.

Okay.

What kinda game is this?

(man muttering)

(horn honks)

(siren wails)

(grinding noise)

(tyres screech)

(glass shattering)

(grinding noise)

- Get on your knees and see what's happening up there!

(glass shattering)

(horn honking)

(metal clanging)

(dog growling)

(tyres screeching)

(dramatic orchestral music)

(engine revving)

(tyres screech)

(Quid shouts)

(crashing noise)

I got you now, you bastard.

(Quid yelps)

(tumbling)

(Quid grunts)

(glass shattering)

(metal clanging)

(sirens wailing)

(coughing)

Hey, hey, wait a minute!

Hey, wait a minute! Hey!

Hey, wait a minute. You got the wrong guy!

I'm tellin' ya!

- Stand back, please, keep this area clear, stand back.

- He rammed me off the road, he did.

- That man, he tried to push me off a cliff.

- And he trapped me in a toilet.

(loud uproar)

- Wait a minute. - Will you, listen!

L promise you, it's that guy over there!

Don't let him get away!

(loud uproar)

It's that guy over there!

Jesus.

Hey. Look, if you don't believe me, check the van. Will ya?

Just check the van!

(dog barking)

- Is that your dog?

- It's not a dog, he's a...

He barks!

(dog barking)

It's that guy over there, I'm tellin' ya it's him!

It's him!

Hitch!

- I thought you said he was in the bathroom!

(crowd murmuring)

- Where do you think you're goin'?

- I thought you were dead!

- Well, thanks a lot!

You know how long I've been in this stupid sleeping bag?

- Well, I've had kind of a rough day myself. Thanks!

- Now. Just a minute, which one of these two characters

affected you?

- That one, you jerk!

Me and about 20 others!

- But where are they?

- Why don't you pick up a shovel and dig up.

Nullarbor Plain?

- You okay?

(siren wailing)

It's just when you pay $100 for a dingo,

you expect to get a dingo.

Jesus. $100,000 worth of damage.

- I just can't believe you actually thought I slept

with the guy.

- And where were you then?

- I told you, I don't know!

I had a sleeping bag over my head.

(Quid mumbles)

- Thank Christ they were able to salvage the meat.

- Now what?

- L don't know.

Think about headin' up north. See if I can get a job

up there.

- Okay.

- You know, something I forgot.

Forgot to tell the police.

That body that they never found.

L thought it was you hangin' in the back of the truck.

But, uh... (chuckling)

(suspenseful orchestral music)

(screaming)

(western music)