Original subtitles

Mirror, mirror on the wall...

who's the fearest of them all?

Looks like I just bought seven years bad luck.

Speaking of bad luck...

it's time for another nasty little terror tale...

from my crawly collection.

And this one's got a message, too.

It's a story about greed, death...

and a girl who learned that beauty...

is only sin deep.

- Want a date? - No, thanks.

Hi, Joe.

- Girl... - Hi, Raven.

You know something, honey?

If I had a dollar for every time you stood in the mirror admiring your face...

I could get off these streets and retire to the Bahamas.

This face is my meal ticket, honey.

I'm cold. Let's go get some coffee.

I don't know about you, but my shit's always hot.

Oh, God, here comes Mr. Trouble.

- Hey, baby, how's business? - Cat's meow.

All right.

How about you, sweet thing?

A pretty girl like you could use a manager. You hear where I'm at?

Yeah, don't do me any favors, honey.

Yeah, just talking business, sweet thing.

I'm gonna say this once.

You touch me again, I'll shoot your dick off.

You listen up, little girl. This is grownup time out here.

You wanna have an attitude, you might need some protection.

Pretty girl like you could get ugly real fast with an attitude.

You hear where I'm at, sweet thing?

Shit. Real smooth.

You keep that shit up, and you ain't gonna last another night out here.

What makes you think I want to last another night out here?

Well, girlfriend, where else you think you got the right to be?

If it isn't Mr. GQ.

I tell you, for the rich, every night's a party night.

Dream on, honey, 'cause ain't nobody invited you.

- What's she got that I ain't got? - Him.

- Not for long, she don't. - Right. I'm from Missouri. Show me.

You check this shit out.

Yeah. Okay, sweet thing. I knew that you'd come around.

Yeah, I'm sorry I was acting so mean.

Don't worry about it. How about a little sugar for pimp daddy here?

So you wanna talk a little business?

That's right. Strictly business.

- Hey! What's up, baby? - Give me your jewelry.

You've got to be crazy.

- Give me the fucking jewelry, man! - Yeah, okay.

Here. You know you're never gonna get away with this.

- And the watch. - No, baby, not the watch. Please.

What is this? Let's Make a Fucking Deal? Give it.

- Or don't you see where I'm at? - Yeah, I see where you're at.

Here, just be cool.

Like I said, strictly business.

You're freelance now, honey.

No shit.

Where'd you say you got this stuff?

An acquaintance had a little accident.

- Truck ran over his head. - Yeah?

You bastard. You stole it!

I didn't know you was a teen idol.

So how does this work?

I got two months or something to redeem my stuff?

You got four months. Plus 12% if I was gonna take it.

What's that supposed to mean?

It means that if this watch was any hotter, I'd have burned a hole in my hand.

I mean a guy needs asbestos gloves, some of the shit that people bring in here.

What are you talking about?

That's a $15,000 watch. Look at the diamonds.

It's hot, is what it is. You could fry a big old egg on the son of a bitch.

I don't want to buy your jewelry.

I ain't buying your jewelry or your bullshit story.

- Now, get out of here. - Fuck you.

No. Wait.

I thought you weren't interested.

I ain't interested in them things.

But I can see you got something that's worth a whole lot more.

Sorry, old man, I just retired from that business.

No. I'm not talking about that.

I'm talking about your beauty.

My beauty. Silly me, what was I thinking? God.

You wait.

$10,000. Cash.

Let me get this straight. For $10,000, you make a mold of my face?

Not your face. Your beauty.

Yeah, right.

And I got four months to redeem my beauty if want it back.

That's right.

You know something, old man, there are people who play with a full deck...

then there's you.

Now, you hold still now.

I hope you ain't claustrophobic.

Almost time, my love.

Pretty soon you'll be back with me.

You'll look just like you did before...

like the day we were married.

Welcome to the party.

Okay. Bye.

- Hello. - Hello yourself.

All this yours?

- Life's tough. - I get by.

I don't wanna tear you away from your guests.

I saw you and, let's just say, something more important came up.

Sounds like a cheap sexual innuendo to me.

Well, I'm sorry.

It's supposed to sound like an expensive one.

You don't think it's rude to leave your date to go make a pass at another woman?

Who's making a pass? We haven't even met yet.

True. I'm Sylvia Vane.

That's V-A-N-E, as in "weather."

I'm Ronnie Price, as in "everyone has theirs."

Don't look now, but I think Miss Clairol might be getting the wrong idea.

I was kinda hoping the wrong idea might become the right idea.

- What are you, a psycho? - Just playing hard to get.

Isn't it rude to slap the host and leave without saying goodbye?

Thank you very much, Mr. Price. You have a lovely apartment. Good night.

Wait.

I don't know the first thing about you.

- At least tell me why you came. - I haven't yet.

Look. We're both playing games. You know it and I know it.

Truth is, you do know the first thing about me.

You knew the second I walked in the room and through that door...

that I'm the girl of your dreams, right?

You wanna get out of here?

I thought you'd never ask.

- It's gorgeous. - Nope. Correction.

You are gorgeous. It's just real expensive jewelry.

Listen, I've been thinking. Remember what you said the night we met?

That "girl of my dreams" stuff?

Let me tell you a little secret.

You weren't lying, even a little bit.

Yeah, that's it.

Listen, I'll only be gone a couple of days.

Probably end up sitting on the company jet, signing papers.

If I'm real lucky, I'll get to watch some fat Texans get drunk.

Won't that be exciting?

- Sweetheart, are you okay? - I just dropped something.

What is this, the makeup counter at Macy's?

You're a knockout. What do you need all this junk for?

I don't know. I got an acne flare-up or something. I feel like I'm in high school.

When I get back from my trip, we can go to the prom. What do you say?

Sweetheart?

What, are you playing hard to get again?

Come on, zit face, give me a kiss goodbye.

Please, sit down.

It does not appear to be cancer. I think we can say that, first off.

And I think we can also safely eliminate any pituitary disorder...

specifically acromegalia, which, frankly, was my initial concern.

Your medical record doesn't indicate...

any history of reconstructive surgery. Is that true?

- What are you calling me, a liar? - No. Of course not.

It's just that silicon injections, implants...

that kind of procedure can sometimes result in the types of symptoms...

that you are displaying now. That's all.

You see, as I explained before, dermatology is my specialty...

and your problem could be glandular.

But there are a lot of specialists that I could recommend.

Look, all I want is a simple answer to a simple question.

What is happening to my face?

- You're under a great deal of stress. - You figured that out. Look at me!

Forty-eight hours ago, I could have had any man I wanted.

Now I can't even get arrested. I'm 21 years old.

What am I gonna look like tomorrow?

Miss Vane, if you'll just sit here for a moment, I will attempt...

to explain this to you.

Frankly...

your skin...

seems to be aging at an accelerating rate.

Now this does not mean that the situation is irreversible...

but it's very important for you to try to think back...

to any time, let's say within the last six months or so...

when you might have come in contact with a toxic material...

for example, contaminated water or gases...

radiation, anything out of the ordinary, which...

could have caused this. Miss Vane?

Get out of here. Don't do business with this man.

I want it back. Here's my ticket and $10,000 plus 12%.

You didn't look at this too careful, did you?

I told you the time limit was four months.

Four months from this date is the fourth. Today's the fifth.

- You son of a bitch. - I'm sorry.

- Okay. How much? - You missed the deadline, lady.

I know I missed the fucking deadline. If you want to mark it up, mark it up!

Just tell me how much.

$100,000.

Hey, Joe.

- How's tricks? - Hey, Mac.

Ma'am.

- Four bits you owe me. - Yeah.

Must be Alpo time.

Where's the fucking money?

What's going on?

- Who are you? - Ronnie.

How do you know my name?

Now just don't move, I'm calling the police.

- 911 Emergency. - Yeah, I'd like to report a burglary.

- Go ahead. - Yeah, the address is...

Are you there?

What's your location, sir? Sir, can you hear me?

- Who are you? - Don't you recognize me, lover?

I'm the girl of your dreams.

Shit.

That's the way she used to look.

She used to be so beautiful.

Now I need other women's beauty just to keep her that way.

Small price to pay, I think.

Look, I don't know what kind of crazy, voodoo shit you're into...

and I don't really care, but we had a deal, man.

Look.

All that's worth more than $100,000.

Now I want it back! Give it back to me. I want my beauty back.

Sure.

I could do that.

I could give you your beauty back...

if that's what you really want.

Hey, Joe?

Hey, Mac.

How's tricks?

- Did you read that story in the paper? - Yeah, I looked it over.

Classic. Dumb broad.

She stole every scrap of jewelry the guy bought for her.

Then she offs the guy, leaves the murder weapon on the floor.

Do you believe it?

- Were her fingerprints on the gun? - Not only that.

They're already on record from a soliciting rap last year.

We're not talking rocket scientist here.

The second she shows her face anywhere, it's a one-way trip to the electric chair.

Hell of a face, too.

With a face like that, who needs brains?

Why don't you watch where you're going, you old, ugly, trifling bitch?

Poor Sylvia, eh, kiddies?

Guess she heard the old saying, "If looks could kill..."

So she did.

Just goes to show you, if you want to sell yourself...

take a look in the mirror first.

See you next time, boys and ghouls.

English