All language subtitles for bi no ngggg

'My name is Charlie Wood...

'I think I made a big mistake.'

Higher...

I can't, sweetheart.
Any higher, you're gonna hit the moon.

And get a bump?

That's right, smart girl,
and get a bump!

Oh, hey! Emily, look who it is.

- Hi, Isabella.
- Hi, Emilita.

- There we go... Hi, how are you?
- Hey, great.

OK, I've got her lunch,
an extra Thermos of apple juice,

her Elmo doll, Mr. Frizzles,
12 grapes in a bag...

I got it, Mr. Wood.

- Thanks. I'll see you at 5:00.
- OK.

All right, sweetheart. Come here.
High five...

First the Wyoming Widow,
now the Oregon Undertaker.

They just pulled a dead girl
out of the reservoir.

God! Suicide?

If she chopped off her own arms and
legs before strangling herself, maybe.

- Pen, I'm eating.
- They figure it's the Oregon Undertaker.

That's the fourth girl in six months.

Each one mutilated
and disemboweled...

- Pen! Pen!
- Oh, sorry baby.

Listen, Charlie. You don't
have to do this, you know.

Course I do. We can't go on
living on one income.

How many times have you
given Emily SpaghettiOs?

She likes SpaghettiOs.

Hey, baby. Trust me.
Once they buy your book...

Not a single publisher has called, Pen.
Not a single one.

'The term
"black hole" is of very recent origin.

'It was coined in 1969
by the American scientist John...'

We handle
nearly 200,000 calls a day -

the hotlines to some of the biggest
corporations in the country.

- Sentel Online. Melanie speaking...
- ...Melanie speaking. How can I help?

Again, my name is Melanie.
Have a great day.

Do you only hire women
named Melanie?

It's a trick of the trade. Callers like
to think they get the same service rep.

This here is the Melanie
and John section,

and you are over here
with the Jennifers and Stephens.

This is you.

What do you mean this is me?
I was told I had a supervisor position.

You gotta spend six months
in the trenches

before you can interview
for a supervisor.

But I have a Ph.D.

- Surely...
- Look. You want the job or not?

- Yeah.
- Great!

Gus here will help get you started.

- OK, Stephen.
- It's Charlie.

Sure it is!

In the File menu do you see
where it says Open?

Okey-dokey. Can you open
the Open menu?

Okey-dokey. Again, my name is
Stephen. Thank you for calling Sentel.

'I actually liked Gus
at first sight.'

- Welcome to hell, dickhead!
- 'Maybe not at first.'

- I'm sorry?
- Hell!

People hooked up to machines
like slaves.

And the smell...
It's pure underarm.

OK, so what do we do here?

Sentel Online, Stephen speaking.
How may I help you?

Okey-dokey, ma'am. Have you
checked to see if your PC is on?

No, I'm not a retard.
That's simply the protocol...

Sorry.

Okey-dokey. I'm gonna check that
with my supervisor real quick

and I'm gonna put you on hold.

You feel feisty, you whiney
little turkey-necked bitch?

Why don't you hop up on my dick
and see if that fires your monitor?

Hello, ma'am. Thanks for waiting.

I'm gonna transfer you over to our
technical service department.

Okey-dokey? Please hold...

In the kingdom of the blind,
the one-eyed dwarf is king!

That's my wife, Stephanie.
Ex-wife! Keep forgetting!

And that there is my little daughter,
Thais.

- That's a pretty name.
- Yeah, it's Greek. It means 'Beloved'.

Thais has this problem
with her eye pressure

and the doctor said if she doesn't get
a cornea transplant in a year

then she's gonna go blind.

Every year, 65,000 diabetics

develop Proliferative Retinopathy,

one of the leading precursors
to blindness.

She's not diabetic.

Ahem! So, are you gonna be able
to afford the surgery before she...

Yeah, I hope so. If everything,
you know, goes as expected.

- What do you mean?
- Huh?

I have a plan.

Oh, hells bells!

'You see,
Stephen, I'm 65 years old now

'and my husband is asking me to do it
donkey-style...'

OK, ma'am. I'm going to transfer you to
our technical department. Please hold...

- Good god...
- Are you expecting a call?

Sentel Online, this is Charlie, er...
Stephen. How can I help you?

'Yeah, my IP Address is stuck on 169.'

OK, Sir. Have you checked
to make sure your computer is on?

- 'Didn't you hear what I said?'
- Yes.

Oh, IP Address. IP Address...

Here we go. Your IP Address
should start with 81.

So... does it?

'I told you it was stuck on 169!
Do the cleaners answer the phones?'

- Sir...
- 'No, don't sir me, asshole!

'Just help me out
with my fucking problem!'

Please hold on while I check
with our technical department.

Yes, sir. Your wife is one
of 3.8 percent of American women

who engage in online chats with a
stranger, accompanied by masturbation.

'My wife died three months ago.

'But I'd like to discuss that
with your supervisor, Stephen.'

Hey! Charlie, wait. Wait!

- It's my fault.
- Don't worry about it. I'll be all right.

- Look, you know I said I had a plan?
- Yep.

Well, why don't you come in on it
with me?

You know, be like a partner
or something?

I sure as hell feel like I owe you one.

- It's not illegal, is it?
- What? No...

- Dickinson!
- Yeah. Right.

Look, meet me at the Monkey Wrench,
nine o'clock. OK? Yeah.

Choo-choo Charlie!

Hey, Max. Two bottles of your finest
mass-produced lager, if you please.

- So?
- Come here.

So, I stumbled across the database
at work.

The online history of each
and every member of Sentel Online.

Look, this is their record of everyone
in the state

that went online in the last three months
and logged on to an illegal porn site.

Now I figure there's gotta be
somebody in here

willing to fork over some coin
to keep things hush-hush.

- They all look the same
- And yet they're not.

- R-E-V Neville Smalls. What's R-E-V?
- Reverend.

Exactly! It's brilliant, don't you think?

- I don't think I'm criminal material...
- Wait, wait!

We're talking about a man of the cloth

who likes to watch teenagers
take off their clothes

and have god-knows-who
do god-knows-what to them!

Who's the real criminal here?

I tried to do things by the book, the
nine to five. You know where it got me?

My daughter is about to go blind,
Charlie. Blind!

- How much?
- 50 for me, 50 for you. Even hundred.

A hundred?

Thousand?

- Dollars?
- Not much to preserve one's reputation.

- What if somebody gets hurt?
- It's a non-violent enterprise.

No harm done whatsoever. Pretty
much all I need is for you to be my alibi.

- That's all?
- That's all.

OK...

Pick the blue one
and you go back to your old life.

But pick the red one
and you finally get to be a free man.

But, I must warn you, once you eat
the red one... there's no turning back.

Yes! I gotta tell you,
I was a little nervous about going solo.

OK. Rule number one -
preparation is king.

More than anything else,
we wanna rule out the element of...

- Surprise!
- Jeez!

Josie, how long were you sitting there?

Long enough to ask how you'd feel
about bringing in a third.

Oh...

'Here's the touching story
of how Gus met Josie.'

Er... miss.

- Yes, sir?
- I'm gonna get the cheque.

- Why?
- Does the chef have curly hair?

- No.
- I'm gonna get the cheque.

- You work at the call center, huh?
- Yeah, how can you tell?

- Well, half the town does.
- Right.

- You have that look the rest of them do.
- What look is that?

That how much longer till I drop dead
so I don't have to go to my stupid job!

- That look.
- Yeah, that would be the one.

- You from here?
- Nope. Oklahoma.

- Oh, Oklahoma. What's that like?
- Nowhere near as sexy as you.

- Ahem!
- I'll get that.

So, care to hear about
our desert special?

Wow! Jeez! You sure are a very
forthright and smart girl, ain't ya?

That's what they said last year when
they crowned me Miss Teen Oklahoma.

- What?
- What?

- Miss Teen Oklahoma? Last year?
- Yeah.

- How old are you?
- 18... more or less.

Is it more or is it less?

Well... less, I guess!

Shit!

- What the hell's matter with you?
- You're a child!

Do I look like a child? Huh?

OK... Ah! Is there anything else
you forgot to mention?

- Who are you?
- Charlie Wood, Gus's former co-worker.

Josie McBroom.
Gus and I were an item.

- Ha!
- What?

- I'm sorry to interrupt, but what...
- I want in.

All right, read my lips, OK -
no f... g way!

- You guys can't do the job without me?
- Why?

Because, dumb-dumb, I'm the only one
who can make the call.

If the preacher records you
on his answer machine

they'll try and match it up with
the voice records from the call center.

You guys would be screwed,
stuffed and mounted.

- Is that true?
- Kinda.

How'd you work that out?

I told you, I was Miss Teen Oklahoma.

- How much do you want?
- 20,000.

20,000? For making a phone call?

For making 'the' phone call.

'The average person makes
about 1,140 phone calls each year,

'none of which go anything like this.'

May I speak to the Reverend Smalls,
please?

Hi, Reverend. Are you familiar
with a website that goes by the name of

teen orgies dot com,
or young and hung dot com?

Someone who knows what the mouse
plays when the wife's away.

Listen, sicko. I have a list of all your
favorite sites, your credit card number,

dates and times of all your connections,
so you better cut the crap!

- What do I want?
- 100,000 dollars.

100,000 dollars.

- 200,000.
- What?

You heard me,
I want 200,000 dollars, cash.

Take it or leave it. But if I don't have
my money by tomorrow evening,

the next church newsletter
is gonna be a doozy!

And I'll be sending somebody.

Well, I think that somebody deserves
to made a full partner, don't you?

Wait! I took a chance and it worked.

Now we each get 70,000 dollars.

It's actually 66,666,
followed by an infinite number of sixes.

Thanks, Rain Man!

From now on, anybody pulls
any out-of-the-blue stunts, she's out!

If we're partners,
let's start acting like it.

This is the plan - I go get the money
at 9:00 p.m. tomorrow.

'At the same time,
Charlie enters the Monkey Wrench

'and pretends we ran
out of gas on the road to Mill Creek.'

He also says that I'm on my way
to the gas station,

the one that opens 24/7, don't forget.

10:00 p.m., after I stash the money
in a locker at the railway station,

I come back and tell everyone
about my walk in the dark.

If it comes up, Charlie was at the bar,
I was at the gas station.

The guy at the station
will say he never saw you.

- Sure. You why? Cos he's blind.
- Oh, pretty brill!

The following day we meet at noon,

we divvy up the money
and go our respective ways.

OK, now. Any questions?

Why don't we just divvy up
the money immediately?

Rule number two -
always let the dust settle after a job.

"Rule number two?" What, you've been
reading 'Blackmailing for Dummies'?

Any questions? Great.

Rule number three - no matter what
happens... always stick to the plan.

'The next day might have been
the longest one I'd ever known.

'For the first time
since I could remember

'I'd be able to bring security
and happiness to my family.'

'I couldn't tell you
if what I felt was fear or excitement.'

So, Mr. Supervisor, talk to me.
Do you have a secretary?

- Yep.
- Is she pretty?

Pretty?
Er... no, she's more nondescript.

What's her name?

- Sharon.
- Sharon?

- Sharon what?
- Er... Stone.

- Sharon Stone?
- I know!

- So, how was your day?
- Oh, phenomenal

And to top it off,
the FBI is sending in The Eye.

- The what?
- The who?

Bionic, supersonic Special Agent
Chester Hymes, FBI. AKA The Eye.

Which is just what I need
with the Undertaker case out of control -

no leads, no fingerprints, nothing.

Honestly, why some folks suddenly
have to turn into criminals is beyond me.

- What if I did?
- What if you did what?

If I became a criminal.

Like if I, er... stole some money,
or something.

I'd arrest you.

But let's say...
let's say I had to.

Like we had no other choice
and I had to steal something, er...

because I had to. What then?

I'd arrest you.

- Why?
- A good cop always gets her man!

No... I'm serious, Pen.

Why...

Why should Emily have to put up
with second-hand toys,

second-hand clothes,
a second-hand life?

Charlie, you have your book, you have
me and Emily. And that makes us rich.

Hi.

Oh, what a crazy night!

- My car ran out of gas...
- You gonna order?

Sure. Beer, please.

One of your finest, mass-produced...

My friend, Gus... You know Gus.

Gus Dickinson, works down
at the call center.

Reverend Smalls?

And that's where he is now -
walking down that road to the station.

Reverend Sma...

Smalls...

The old blind guy who runs the station
keeps it open 24/7.

Old blind guy is celebrating his 80th
birthday tonight, young fella.

Who the hell are you?

Er... I'm the guy that's here
to collect the money.

- Give me your gun.
- I don't have one.

You've come to get money from me
and you ain't packing?

Give my regards
to the big bearded guy.

You don't mean Santa Claus, do you?

Gus?

Gus?

Gus?

Gus?

Oh my...!

'If it's you, José, fuck
off! Everybody else, leave a message.'

Josie? Josie? Pick up.

Josie, are you there?
We have a real problem here. Pick up.

Gus?

Gus?

Gus? Gus, are you there?

Gus?

Gus?

- Oh!
- Oh my God!

- What happened?
- What are you doing here?

The station was closed.

Our alibi! So I came here.

- Whoa! Calm down
- What the hell happened?

The bastard pulled a gun on me.
He was gonna shoot me

and I grabbed the gun and it went off.
No biggy.

- No biggy?
- I conked him on the head with a vase.

He's gonna wake up any minute now.

Oh, Gus...

I think I made a big mistake.

- Did you call the cops?
- I put him in the septic tank.

- Who?
- The corpse.

- What corpse?
- The reverend's corpse.

The reverend wasn't a corpse
when I left him.

- There was blood. I saw blood...
- It was my blood.

He shot me through the leg.
Look, it went clean through the muscle.

Oh my god.

Why didn't you answer
when I called you?

I was in the bathroom
cleaning the wound.

I checked his pulse. I mean, well...

- Maybe I missed it. 17 percent...
- You missed it?

What? Can't we get him
out of the tank?

- How long's he been down there?
- 10 minutes, tops.

What?

I thought I said, no matter what,
stick to the fucking plan.

There wasn't anything
in the fucking plan

about the blind guy's birthday
and the reverend in a pool of blood!

All right, let's calm down.

- Don't you need a doctor?
- Yeah!

There's a slightly more
pressing matter!

- What are you doing?
- He's crying.

Jesus, Gus. He's crying
for what we've done, for our sin.

- Jesus. Hail Mary, full of grace...
- Bathtub.

Goddammit! Is that part of your plan?

After you kill someone
you take a nice hot bath?

I didn't kill anybody, first of all.
Second, I don't pray to leaky ceilings!

Well you know what,
I'm having a tough time here.

I just drowned a man of the cloth
in crap!

- Maybe I should turn myself in...
- No!

Nobody is turning anybody in

Now did you know the priest was alive
when you killed him?

- No.
- There you go then.

How could we have thought a reverend
would have 200,000 dollars in cash?

The average savings of an
American couple between 35 and 50

is 15,256 dollars.

Charlie, Charlie...

Shut up!

Wait!

No! Rule number four -
never return to the crime scene.

It's Josie's card, I left it by the phone.

Rule number five - if your partner
is an idiot, forget rule number four.

It's gone.

Got it.

Ow! What the fuck?

Ow!

Shouldn't we be going?

Aren't you just a little curious?

'Have a look right there.
This beauty, huh?

'How are you?'

'Look. This is for you, all right?'

- She's an actress, right?
- 'Shut up, all right?

'You like this, baby?
You like this? Right here?

'You like to feel that? Feel that. Yeah.

'Yeah. You know what this?
I am gonna carve your face up...

'Argh!'

'Shut up!'

If I didn't know better, you know
what I'd say this looks like?

A snuff film?

Holy moly!

- Who says Holy moly?
- Is it important right now?

This is why he was so keen to cop
a deal. He's part of a snuff film ring.

- We've gotta call the police.
- What are we gonna tell them?

- Look, if they find the body...
- They're not gonna find the body.

The septic tank was genius.
Look at it this way -

we may have saved lives tonight.

- You think he's the Oregon Undertaker?
- Who knows.

He sure as hell got what he deserved.

Charlie... Wait!

You mind if I come in?

What?

We found the reverend's body.

- It was an accident...
- This was no accident.

Someone shot him three times
in the head

and left him in his car
by the side of the road.

That's a hard pill to swallow.
Murder always is.

I'm sorry. Are you certain
that it's the Reverend Smalls?

- Oh yeah. We've got a positive ID.
- Then who's...

Who's what?

Who is... safe

in this godforsaken world...

- You family?
- Yeah... No!

Just a friend. A family friend.

- And your name is?
- Stephen.

Stephen Hawking.

Mind if I...

- You're watching a DVD, huh?
- Yeah... No!

I mean... did you know that DVD sales

have risen by 226 percent
over the last six months?

Well... no.

But I sure am 100 percent glad
to know that. Thanks for the factoid.

So, er... can I get you a drink?

A glass of H2O, if you please,
Mr. Hawking.

There's some blood on the floor.

- Mr. Hawking?
- Yeah. I, er...

I broke a vase and, er...

and accidentally cut my arm
on one of the shards.

- Look...
- Oh, doggy!

That hurts just looking at it.

- What are you doing?
- Getting a sample. Standard procedure.

'Deputy Garmen, Detective
Wood wants you at the station.'

Copy that.

Detective Wood, always breathing
down my neck.

Ain't had a good poke, if you ask me.

I'm not asking, but whatever.

Well, I'd better get a move on.

Mmm... What a beautiful night.

You could almost
touch those stars, huh?

Yep.

Although, even if you were traveling
the speed of light

it would take you 1,460 days
to reach the closest one.

Is that right?

Well you are just a walking
factoid factory, partner!

You have yourself
a good night.

You, too, officer.

Oh... would you mind if I took a gander
at that DVD you were watching?

Curiosity killed the cat, Officer.

In my line of work, the cat gets a raise
and a promotion.

My nine-year-old loves this one.

Especially this part
with this singing cow.

I've got to admit, Stephen...

I thought you were hiding something.

It kinda looks like
something got dragged here.

You wanna come with me?

I need you to lift this up for me,
Stephen.

- Officer, you don't want to smell...
- Open it.

So much for the raise
and the promotion, Officer!

There we go.

I knew Columbo here would come back
for the DVD. What do we do with him?

- Who is in the septic tank?
- How do I know.

Check the papers, see who's missing.

And then what, Gus?
We killed somebody!

- Oh, you killed somebody!
- Well, you kidnapped a cop!

- Oh, yes, I did! What do you propose?
- I'm turning myself in.

They'll say murdered
the real reverend.

- I had nothing to do with that!
- So? What do they care?

Makes it all nice and neat for them.
No messy loose ends.

I'd bet good money they'll be all, "Gosh!
We finally caught the Undertaker!"

You'll be spitting fire and crying sparks.

Enough, OK? Let's not
make this worse than it is.

Charlie, how could this be any worse?

You're not going anywhere.

You're gonna shoot me?

I've got a family too, Charlie.
I am not going to jail.

I am going to shoot you, Charlie!

- No, you're not.
- Yes, I am.

- No, you're not.
- Yes, I am!

Shit!

Ah! I knew you would...

I wouldn't do that.

Who the hell are you?

Considering that I live here, young man,
the question is, "Who the hell are you?"

It's not what you think, Mrs. Smalls.
We're not burglars.

Look... we have some terrible news.

Your husband, the reverend...

has passed on.

Considering I put three bullets
in his head

I should certainly hope so!

Mrs. Smalls, you have the right
to remain silent.

- Anything you say...
- Oh, please!

So you killed him?

I spent years turning a blind eye
to that pervert's, er...

shall we say filmmaking aspirations.

Max and I felt we deserved
a share of his benefits.

- Who's Max?
- A real man.

We're going from here to somewhere
where we'll never worry ever again.

- Er... Ahem!
- What?

I think he may already be there.

- What? He wouldn't leave without me.
- He didn't really have a choice.

- It was an accident.
- OK!

- Shut up...
- Why don't you both shut up!

All right, where's the money?

- Sorry, what money?
- Two million dollars doesn't just vanish!

- Two...
- Yeah, where is it?

Oh dear!

I guess I'll just have to count to three.
One...

- No, Mrs. Smalls!
- Tell her where it is.

- We don't know!
- Two...

Tell her!

We'll, I'll be!
I haven't heard Pink Floyd in years.

Well, pa, time to fire up
the old septic tank!

By the way, what happened exactly?

Sure. Charlie drowned the reverend,
who he thought was dead

even though he wasn't,
in the septic tank.

Turns out he wasn't the real reverend.

The real reverend was murdered
by his wife,

the woman whose head you split
with an axe - stellar timing!

She planned to run away with her lover,
Max, now deceased, thanks to Charlie,

and the two million dollars the reverend
raised from his side venture

in shooting and selling snuff films.
Okey-dokey?

- Groovy!
- Groovy?

Three people died tonight, Josie.

In this business, unfortunately,
death is an occupational hazard.

And by the way, way to go using
my name in front of the cop... Charlie!

Hey, look. I can help.

I'll testify that I heard Mrs. Smalls
confess to killing her husband.

As for Mrs. Smalls, she was
threatening the life of a police officer.

- What about the guy in the tank?
- You killed him by accident.

You wouldn't do much time.
Five years, tops.

Oh my God!

Well that doesn't suck!

I have to hand it to you.
That was a brilliant plan after all.

Can you believe it? We're rich.

You guys can keep my share.
I'm gonna turn myself in.

If I go to jail, I go to jail.

Don't be ridiculous! You earned this.

They'll just hunt us down like animals.

With this kind of money
you can disappear.

I have a wife and daughter,
I don't want to disappear.

Fine. Gus and I will leave the state

and we'll just drop you and the deputy
in the middle of nowhere.

- How's that sound?
- Let's get rid of the deputy.

- What?
- Good thinking!

Since he's the only one who can testify
that we're innocent of the murder.

OK, Miss Teen Oklahoma...

Help!

Help!

Yes!

- Hold his head.
- What are you doing?

Just helping him relax a little.

My friend here decided to surrender.

We'll drop you both somewhere
and say goodbye.

- You're making a big mistake.
- Let's get out of here.

Wait, wait!

- I gotta go pee.
- Oh...

- Please?
- OK.

Wait...

- The handcuffs.
- In your dreams!

There are certain requirements...

There. Enjoy!

I'm sorry...

I can't go if you're, er... watching.

Could you just close...

Stage fright!
It happens to the best of us.

One minute warning.

You dropped this.

- No, I can explain... Argh!
- Get up, partner!

- What the hell's the matter with you?
- It's a flight to Vegas.

8:00 a.m. We were supposed
to meet at noon to split the money.

- That asshole broke my nose!
- You better have an explanation.

All right, I lied about Thais needing
a cornea transplant. She's fine.

- I owe my wife 300,000 bucks.
- I'm sorry?

I owe my ex-wife 300,000 dollars
and because of her snake of a lawyer

there is a restraining order against me
until I pay up.

I have not seen or talked
to my daughter in two years.

- Why not say?
- Would you have helped?

- Of course not.
- Well, there you go, then!

- Oh my God!
- There goes our alibi.

Uh-uh! Freakin' fantastic!

Don't you see? None of us
has to run away or turn ourselves in.

What do you propose?
We roam the country

like Bonnie and Clyde... and Clyde?

No. First, we take the cop's car
and crash it into a tree up the road.

We put him and the reverend's wife
in her car

and push it over the cliff
at Grouse Point.

- They'd find the car in a couple of days.
- And what would the forensic figure?

That the deputy was driving under
the influence of alcohol, crashed,

flagged down another car
driven by Mrs. Smalls,

took control of the wheel
and drove them off a cliff.

And the wounds, they'd be more
than covered up by the crash.

So the reverend gets murdered
on the same night

that his wife gets driven off a cliff
by a drunken cop?

That doesn't sound very accidental.

You know, he has a point... for once.

OK, er... Then we plant Mrs. Smalls'
gun in the car with them.

They figure it was the weapon
that killed the reverend.

They think... maybe she had an affair
with the deputy,

maybe they decide to off the reverend
and then maybe they had an accident.

- That's a hell of a lot of maybes!
- Let's hear your bright idea, boss.

Ooh! Old broad sure liked her food!

Fancy body bags!

- You're eating a lollypop?
- I didn't have dinner. I need the sugar.

- Ow!
- Are you OK?

Yeah. Let's just get this done.

Can you go any slower?

We don't wanna attract attention,
now do we?

No, we don't wanna go back in time,
now do we?

It's only by going faster than light that
one could theoretically go back in time.

Yeah! Do me a favor -
shut the fuck up!

You have some serious stress-related
issues. You're not Canadian, are you?

Wh... What?

The 2003 statistical report on the health
of Canadians states that 62 percent...

What's wrong with you? You pull these
random facts and stats out of your ass,

and nobody really gives a shit!

- Guys!
- Jesus Christ, man!

Charlie, here's a nifty stat for you -

for a guy that knows everything,
to get a job in a call center

you have to be, bar none, the biggest
loser I have ever met in my life.

And I'm from Las Vegas!

You ever hear of a neurotransmitter
called acetylcholine?

What?

It's the chemical your brain uses
for memory... dummy.

- Is it?
- Yeah, that's exactly right.

See, the reason I lost my teaching job
is I have this disorder,

typified by a gradual, acute
neuro-degeneration

of the cerebral cortex.

Or if that's too "pulled out of my ass"
for you, I'm slowly losing my memory.

Are you making this up?

The doctors think that, in a year or two,
my mind will be a total blank.

So the only thing I can do
to slow things down

is to keep working my memory
as much as possible.

Do you remember
what's in the blue bag?

What blue bag?

Jeez, guy, I'm really sorry.
You know...

Hey, Gus, what's the Greek word
for bullshit?

- You sonofabitch!
- Stop it!

Damn it! What the...

- Are you fucking crazy?
- He lied to us again!

He doesn't have a daughter...

Is everyone OK in there?

We're fine.

Everything's fine.
So, thanks for coming over.

- I think we should call the police.
- What?

No, let's not bother them.
They've got a lot on their plate.

You're fine, your car's fine.

Yeah, but I'm pretty sure
that's standard procedure, isn't it?

I'll be honest with you - I don't give
a rat's ass for standard procedure.

Here, why don't you pack your fat ass
back in your car

and buy yourself as big a sandwich
as your heart desires.

Is that standard enough
procedure for you?

- Your trunk is open.
- What?

You all going on a trip somewhere?

Sure looks you're packed for a long one.
Is that your entire wardrobe in there?

No, it's a couple of dead bodies.

- That was a good one!
- I'm glad you liked it...

Oh, jeez!

Oh, it's time for old stingy!

What?

Oh, it's insulin.

Whatever!

Freak show!

- Ow!
- You sonofabitch!

Granted, I lied, but I have
a responsibility towards myself.

- When I got out of prison, I swore...
- What? What?

You were in prison? For what?

I kind of convinced some people
to invest in some businesses

that weren't actually,
technically in existence.

- Anything else you forgot, sociopath?
- Oh, come on!

- Aren't you overreacting a bit?
- Overreacting?

I happen to be a very good conman.

That's my talent. What do you want
me to do, waste it?

You don't go around using it
on your partners, jerk!

I bet Gus isn't even your real name.
What is it?

- No, really, I'd love to know.
- My mother, God rest her soul...

...named me after Augustus...

What the...

- Maybe she's jumped out the trunk.
- She didn't jump out of any trunk.

- She's fucking dead.
- Did you check her pulse?

- Er... no.
- Why didn't you check her pulse?

Because I assume that when you
have an axe lodged in your skull

your pulse tends to bottom out on you!

- Maybe you shouldn't assume so much.
- All right, just settle down, kids!

All that matters now is that we find her
before someone else does.

- Try to keep it on the road this time!
- Hey, fuck you! Fuck you both!

When people ain't punching me
in the eye, my driving is just perfect.

Argh!

Want me to check her pulse?

Shit!

- Charlie?
- Hi, honey!

- What are you doing here?
- What are you doing here?

Wh... We had an anonymous call
reporting a body in the road.

We just ran over it.

Hi, I'm Josie McBroom.

I thought you were having a drink
with your supervisor.

Technically, I'm Junior Supervisor
but they did place Charlie under me.

- Oh...
- And you must be...

- Penelope Wood.
- Penelope.

- Detective Penelope Wood.
- Of course!

Charlie has told me a lot about you...

Did he say he has a little girl
and that I brought her...

- Emily's here?
- ...because there's no one at home?

Now, what happened, exactly?

Well, we were driving into town

and all of a sudden - bang!

We ran over this body here. There
was nothing I could do to avoid her.

No one could have. I swear,
she just popped out of nowhere.

- And you are?
- Who, me? I'm Gus.

Gus Dickinson is my name.
A co-worker of Charlie's.

- Who are you calling?
- My deputy.

Aren't you gonna answer that?

Uh-uh! It's probably
just my ex-boyfriend.

Freakin' stalker, you know?

Deputy Garmen, Detective Wood here.
You need to report in immediately.

Detective Wood.

Where?

Shit!

- The Eye is at the station.
- The what?

All right, I want you all to follow me down
there. I'm gonna need your statements.

Can't that wait till tomorrow?
I'm sure it more productive

if we'd had a good night's sleep, right?

You might have mentioned
that your wife was a detective.

Shut up.

Gus, you might have mentioned
about not really owing alimony

to your imaginary wife and your
imaginary daughter not really going blind.

Touché!

Everyone, this is Special Agent
Chester Hymes.

Well, can you beat this?
My friends with the bodies in the trunk.

- What?
- It's an inside joke!

We ran into each other earlier.
How do you do?

- I'm ready.
- Charlie, can you look after Emmy.

You two follow us.

- We're screwed!
- Not if we keep out story straight.

We had a few beers at Gus's place,
that's the end of it. Got it?

Got it.

Gus...

- We're screwed!
- Oh, come on!

Do you think Agent Hippo
is gonna figure out more

than where to find a really great buffet?

These abrasions on her knees
and elbows

indicate a leap from a moving vehicle.

We can deduce that Mrs. Smalls'
would-be killer

presupposed her already dead when
she was transported by automobile.

Are you all right, Mr. Dickinson?

Er... yeah. This is the first dead body
for me, so...

- And I drunk beers at my place.
- Yeah.

Other than the axe wound,
which, judging from the angle of entry,

came from a much shorter person,
possibly a female,

nothing here indicates
any sort of fisticuffs ever took place.

I can safely say that Mrs. Smalls'
murderer can be found...

within this very room.

- What?
- Oh! Just a figure of speech!

What I mean to say is her body
will tell me who her killer is

after a more thorough examination.

However, I can hazard a name
right now.

Please do.

I'm sure it will come as no surprise
that her killer

is none other than...

...the Oregon Undertaker.

Well, we all could have figured
that out, Agent Hymes.

Indeed.

Everything's gonna be OK, sweetie.

Hey! So, er... I guess
I'll take Emily home.

Why don't you leave her here with me?

- Yah, but I can easily...
- Goodnight.

Wait! You're not
going anywhere, little lady!

Not without your coat.

- Would anyone care to say something?
- Just take me home.

No way! We've got a dead cop
to ditch first.

I don't care about the cop. I don't
even care about the money anymore.

I just wanna go home
and pretend this never happened.

Yeah, it hasn't exactly been
a run-of-the-mill night on the town.

All I wanted was to take care
of my family.

OK, Charlie, the sooner we dispose
of the deputy's body,

the sooner you can get started on your
pretend happily ever after.

Now how does that sound?

'You've reached Stu Garmen.
Speak after the beep...'

Shit!

Come on, sweetheart.
It's time to go home.

Oh, Charlie...

- You're sure he'll sink in there?
- Absolutely!

- You've done this before?
- Never.

Unrefined, unheated tar
has a viscosity grade of 250,000.

So what does that mean?
He won't sink?

He'll sink. It might take a week or so,
but he'll sink.

Well... we better get started then.

Hold it!

You followed us.

I figured it would be more expedient
than listening to bull pucky testimony.

I guess I was right, just like always.

- OK...
- Listen...

Agent Hymes, you let us go and there's
a million dollars with your name on it.

You're offering a Federal agent
a bribe?

- Yeah.
- Thanks, little lady.

Gus, come over here for a second,
would you?

Tell me I'm fat!

I was joking!

I wanna hear you tell the fat guy
how fat he is.

I was kidding, all right?

You might be a little on the heavy side

but it's nothing that a few centuries
jogging can't fix!

- Argh! Sonofabitch!
- I'm sorry, did that pinch?

All right, the official version is that
Gus here attacked me during an arrest.

- And I was defending myself...
- Stupid walrus... Argh!

The official version is that Gus tripped
and fell on his face during the arrest.

OK, there's two million dollars in a bag
in the car. It's all yours, just take it.

Wow! Can you beat that?
One million just became two million.

And people said this economy
would never bounce back!

Argh!

- Shoot him in the fucking eye!
- What? Shut up!

- Wait!
- Don't move!

- I know who you are.
- What?

I thought you looked familiar...
Fellas, your accomplice is Lucy Bloom,

AKA Lucy McJoseph,
AKA Josie McBroom.

- What are you talking about?
- You're the Wyoming Widow.

What?

Gentlemen, the Wyoming Widow's
MO is always the same.

She seduces an unsuspecting fellow,
she fornicates with him

and then she offers up
a little sip of whiskey.

The poor sucker never lives long enough
to realize that he also just drank

highly concentrated thallium.

You've been watching too many
soap operas, Agent Hymes!

You're not believing this crap, are you?

They say that she always keeps
her trusty flask on her person,

just in case the next bug
flies into her web.

Oh, come on! He's just making
this crap up to save his ass!

I could have sworn I felt one inside
of her coat pocket back at the station.

Empty your pockets, Josie.

Charlie...

Holy shit!

You planted this in my coat
back at the station, didn't you?

No, I didn't. I swear to God!

This isn't mine.

- He is lying. He is lying!
- Take a drink.

- Oh...
- Take a sip, Josie.

There.

Are you ha...

- Josie?
- Oh, my God!

Oh, God! Josie!
Come on, spit it out!

- You are so pathetic!
- That was not funny.

You dumb shits! I told you he was just
trying to mess with us! Fuck! Fuck!

Jesus!

I think that belongs to Uncle Sam.

Now hold on.
We're on the same side here, Chester.

I'm an agent too.

- When the hell did you take that off me?
- Back at the station.

Listen, here's the thing, Gus -

there's a friend of mine,
an agent, one of the best.

He's been protecting the innocent
a long time now.

And, well...

he's gotten fed up
with working his ass off

for ungrateful morons
who call him fatty.

A pat on the back if things go right,

or the stars and stripes on his coffin
if they don't.

It just doesn't cut it anymore.

I have two million here.

Believe when I say
no one will ever claim it.

Tell your friend there's a million for him
and a million for me.

What about two million for him
and nothing for you.

Oh, come on, Chetty!
We're partners here.

You insult me, Gus.
You're not even a real criminal.

You're just a small-time crook

who got shot twice in the chest
resisting arrest.

Listen, I have a daughter, Thais...

Thais. That's Greek for 'Beloved'.

- You shot me.
- That's the first true thing you've said.

What took you so long?

Mummy...

It's all right, sweetheart.
Go back to sleep.

Wait! You know I can't eat
this much sugar.

You shouldn't do this.

- Like you shouldn't have killed Gus.
- Keep eating.

Gus was a backstabber.

He told me he was gonna kill you
and make off with the money.

That's why I killed him. I saved your life.
I'm telling you the truth!

89.9 percent of all US Government
agents can beat a lie detector.

Please... this isn't right, Charlie.

You know this isn't right.

- Your wife is an officer of the law.
- Shut up! Shut the fuck up!

Oh, God.

I don't wanna die!

I don't wanna die...

Please... Oh...

- God, we really did it, huh?
- What?

We really turned into monsters.

Oh, Charlie...

Oh, come on.

I say it was worth it.

Let's get the body in the car.
It's heavy enough to sink.

Wait...

There's still one passenger missing.

You said you wanted to pretend
none of this ever happened...

One sip of this... and you can kiss
all your worries goodbye.

- The Wyoming Widow?
- Yeah.

But I saw you drink it.

Never far from my trusty flasks!

- Brilliant.
- Yeah!

After all, I was Miss Teen Wyoming.

Now, Obviously I can't let you go
and risk having you report me

and, fuck, two million does sound
a heck of a lot nicer than one million!

- You were right, Penny.
- What's that?

Penelope always said money
won't make you rich, I just...

I just didn't believe her.

You do seem like
a genuinely decent guy, Charlie.

- I'm real sorry I gotta do this.
- You don't have a choice, do you?

No, I don't. But you do.

You want me to shoot you
or you want to go for the whiskey?

What did Hymes say you used?

Concentrated thallium.
Much quicker than cyanide.

Any last words, Charlie?

Don't spend it all at one place.

What?

What? What?

What?

No! Oh!

What the fuck?

Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Fuck!

'Charlie, Penelope
and Emily can't come to the phone.

'Please leave us a message.'

'This is a message for Charlie
Wood. My name is Samuel Koenig,

'I'm Senior VP of Barstow Publishing
Self Help Division here in Seattle.

'Listen, I'm calling in regards
to this book you sent us,

"'Build A Better Brain
And Beat The Big Nothing."

'It seems to me like it's a no-brainer!

'Seriously, though,
we have an offer for you.

'We think you'll be happy with it.

'Please call me back
at your earliest convenience...'

- Hi.
- Hi. Where you headed?

- As far away from here as possible.
- That one we could do for you.

This must be my lucky day.

Er... let me just double-check
something.

- All set.
- All righty!

And... action.

Again.

Again.

And... again.

- Hi!
- Ah!

Thank you.

- Argh!
- I got him!

Whoa, whoa, whoa!