All language subtitles for Bullet.Head.2017.BluRay.x264-PSYCHD.HI

[heavy breathing]

[thunder rumbles]

[rain patters]

[truck beeps]

[heavy breathing]

[animal snarls]

[footsteps]

[panting]

MAN 1:
Come here.

Yeah.

Good boy.

MAN 2:
Evening, sir.

[metal door
sliding closed]

[machinery rumbling]

[animal panting]

[crowd shouting]

MAN 1:
Watch me.

Watch him.

[crowd cheering
and shouting]

AUDIENCE MEMBER:
Just do it! Kill him!

MAN 1:
We're the competition.

PIT WORKER:
Good evening, sir.

[barking]

[dog growling]

Sit.

[dogs barking]

PIT BOSS:
Release your dogs!

[dogs snarling]

[police sirens
wail distantly]

MAN:
Eddie...huh? Hey.

[car horn blares]

[men shouting]
[loud crash]

STACY:
Eddie.

Yo.

Eddie.

WALKER:
I don't think
he's listening.

Eddie?

Why don't I hold
onto that for you.

Whole precinct's
out there.

But they're looking
for four guys in
a Cadillac.

We can split up
the money, just
go solo on foot.

You got
a 200-pound mag drill
in your back pocket

you been holding
and not telling
us about?

The car is hidden from
the street unless
they get close,

but we're sitting ducks
down here if they do.

[metal creaking]

WALKER:
Municipal storage facility.

Anyone with a car
owe you a favor?

Short notice,
short money?

Not in my Rolodex.

GAGE:
What the fuck's
a Rolodex?

Don't talk
for a while,
okay?

Watch yourself.
A lot further
to fall.

STACY:
Car troubles.

Yeah.

Wild card came
up a deuce.

Take us a day
to crack it.

I can make you
whole then.

Right.
Right.

GAGE:
What'd he say?

He said
we're all
over the news.

Told us
we're on our own
till nightfall at best,

and that he'd
need at least
50% hazard pay

to think about
sticking his
neck out.

He said, "Call back
an hour before
sundown."

He'll know if he
can send
a van,

if it's cooled
off by then.

Fucking sundown?

What?

You stupid
piece of shit.

No one told me
there was alarms.

Yeah, that wouldn't
have mattered

if you stuck
with the fucking safe

instead of making
a detour to the
pharmacy section

on your own initiative.

I saw an in,
I took it.

Look, I can--
I can flip dope.
That's good loot.

You fucked us!

No.
We should
have had pieces.

Pieces? This
was a soft in,
soft out.

This is
no guns needed.

STACY:
This is candy
from a baby.

You going
to shoot a cop?

I don't know
who I'm going
to shoot.

You watch that.

Look, we
got the safe
and we got out.

That's a fucking
score.

Oh, yeah.
Why don't
you tell

that to our
wheelman's wife?

I'm sure she'll be
very proud of us.

Maybe you give her
a couple hundred
from your cut

for the casket.

Yeah, I--
I didn't need
to bring you in.

To your low-rent
box store job?
Huh?

We'll be lucky if we pull
30K from this shit-show.

If you even give us
a chance to fucking
crack this safe.

Thanks for
the lead, ace.

Fuck you.

Fuck, you're stupider
than your fucking cousin.

STACY:
Morons.

What?

What the fuck?

He's sick.

Christ.

What the fuck
would you know?

Son, I've spilled
more dope

than you'll ever
live to shoot.

Look, I...

I just didn't have
my wake-up this
morning, all right?

So you figured
you'd nab one

while we were
on the clock?

Just let me
get well.

All right?

Come on, man.
It's...

WALKER:
Your show.

I should let you
fucking sweat it.

It's the small bottle.
It's yellow powder.

Yeah.
[drops bag]

They got a sink
in here?

WALKER:
Have we been here
longer than you have?

Yeah, whatever.

Stay away from
the street-side windows.

And don't go
the fuck outside.

Ah, f...

[panting]

WOMAN:
You said this was
going to be easy.

Come on.
Almost there.

[traffic ambience,
cars passing distantly]

STACY, OFF:
Sometimes I pretend
the sounds of cars passing by

are waves
on some little black sand
beach, far away from here.

GRACE, OFF:
You don't have to pretend.

[echoing]:
Let's fly away.

[helicopter flying overhead]

I fucked up.

Taking down
rinky-dink scores

with punks
that can't keep their
hands out of the cookie jar

long enough to finish
the main course?

I dropped the ball, Walker.
I'm sorry.

WALKER:
I've seen this.

Guys get shaken
up, you know,
partner dies,

their kid gets sick.

Maybe their wife
balls someone else,

and they start making
their own chaos.
Walker--

There are
only three kinds
of last score, Stacy.

The kind where
you serve life,

the kind where
you're served
a bullet,

and the kind--
The kind where
you walk away.

Man's got to know
what he is.

Yeah?

What are you?

You know,
I did this score
when my kid was little.

Christmas Eve,
I couldn't have
been, what, 25?

Pet shop job.

I knew this guy,
he was the manager.

Says there's going
to be 5 grand
in the safe.

I guess these places
do good on holidays.

You know,
what with the kittens

and bunnies,
and all that.

I'm counting on this score
to put something
under the tree

for my little girl, so I go,
you know, I crack
this safe.

WALKER, OFF:
It's a four-number,
mechanical combo.

Eyes and ears only.

I am so proud of myself.

I pull this thing open...

There's nothing.

Not a note.

Turns out this manager's
a fucking degenerate

like everybody else,

and he's already dropped
all the money
at the track.

[door closes]

Remember, my little girl

has been listening
for sleigh bells
all week,

so I go looking
for a bunny or
a cat to get her.

But all they got left
is puppies and fish.

Now, I know who'd
be walking
a puppy.

So I find this fish.

Tropical one.

Beautiful.

Bright yellow.

Different than the others.

Perfect.

I grab the whole tank.

Must've weighed 60 pounds,
cord hanging off the back.

And I'm about to take off.

And I stop and think,

"Am I really about
to walk out of a job

with one goddamned fish?"

So I go fishing.

Long shrimp-looking ones,

leopard-type guys,

big old black ones
with those big bubble eyes.

Just dropping them
in the tank
with Yellow.

I'm pretty happy
how this worked
out, you know?

I never
would've come up
with this on my own.

It would've been
a teddy bear,

or a doll if I was
really flush.

But this,
this is inspired.

So I slip in, I set up this
tank right under the tree,

because I just got to see
the look on my daughter's face

when she sees this.

But lugging
that aquarium
around is hard work.

I'm out as soon
as I hit the chair.

Then I wake up,
and there's this
screaming.

Nothing like that sound.

Sound of your own kid,
just screaming.

[girl screams]

All these fish are dead.

All bloated up
like some East
River dump job.

All except
that yellow tropical.

Turns out

that freshwater fish
don't make it
in the salt.

Me, I'm a freshwater fish.

I know I'm in
the right tank.

Maybe we should go check
on that kid before he,
you know,

takes a selfie
up on the roof.

Posts it
to Instagram.

Fuck.

Fuck you.

Testost-- Fuck.

[heavy breathing and snarling]

[footsteps]

[dog whining]

[chains rattle]

[doors creak]

[door closes]

Shame.

He's finished.

I'll handle it.

We'll be back
for the count.

[dog whines]

Come on.

[chains rattle]

[thunder crashes]

Up.

Stay.

[footsteps]

[water lapping]

[metallic click]

[electricity powering up]

[electricity crackles]

[man screams]

[dog snarls]
Fuck!

[striking blows]

[striking blows continuous]
[man grunts]

[metallic object clatters]

[sighs]

Fuck.

[low growling]

WALKER:
Walk away.

Nice and slow.

[grunting and snorting]

[barks]
Shit. Run!

WALKER: Go! Run!
Jesus! Fuck! Shit.

GAGE:
Holy fuck.

STACY: My fucking luck.
WALKER: Go!

GAGE:
It's coming!

WALKER:
Shut the fucking door.

[panting]

What the fuck
was that?

Beware of still water
or a silent dog.

You know, I bunked
with this gangbanger.

He used
to fight pits
in Chicago.

So, this guy,
he tells me,
the big organizations,

they hop
from place
to place,

and that someone
sticks around

to put the losers down
when the show is over.

There's a fire escape.

GAGE: Well, let's get
the fuck out of here.

GAGE:
Come back
for the money.

Ride knows
where we're at.

WALKER:
We got to be here
when he comes,

otherwise he takes
the safe,

he tells us it's
in an evidence
room downtown,

we don't see
a fucking dime.

All right,
we hole up here
till the van comes.

Bust out the window
and take the stairs.

Get the safe.
Oh, fuck.

STACY:
Get the fuck out of here.
GAGE:
Fuck, fuck, fuck.

What the hell
do you think
you're doing?

I'm fucking sick.

And?
And my dope's
in the other room.

Did you...?

Did we not
almost get eaten
by a giant fucking dog?

[coughs and retches]

Jesus, man.

Fuck you.
WALKER: Hey.

Calm down.
What the fuck's
the matter with you?

[grunts]

You broke
my fucking nose.

I should've
thrown you out
of the fucking car,

is what I
should have done.

Jesus Christ.
See, now I feel bad.

And he was going
for you.

Jesus.

WALKER:
Just try and get in between
a junkie and his stuff.

Fucking hell.
Walker.

[tinkling]

[loud crash]
Jesus.

HANDLER:
Said you had him
six months now?

BLUE:
Mm-hmm.

Been letting
my little niece
play with him.

HANDLER:
You making
a pet?

BLUE:
Could do it.

Big paws.

Mm-hmm.

Raise him right,
could be a wrecker.

If he's game.

You going
to roll him?

Only way
to know.

I'll start
to work.

[whimpers]

WALKER:
You think I'm
helping you carry

that kid down
that fire escape,

you're out
of your fucking mind.

STACY:
I can fucking
carry him.

Bet you wish we
had pieces now.

Listen, man,
I've done
plenty of dirt,

but I ain't shooting
no fucking dog.

[Walker laughs]

This shit's
funny to you?

Well, it's just
that I've always known
you to be a cat person.

Fuck you.

Back at you.

I'm not.

Not, what?

I'm not
a cat person.

You just switched?

I like cats.
I still like them.

I just--
I got a preference
for dogs now, that's all.

It's all right
to be a cat person.

I know it is.

I mean, they're smart,
they're independent,

you don't have
to pick up
their shit.

I just--You know,
I had a thing happen
on a job that,

you know,
made me re-think
the thing. That's all.

You had
another dog thing
happen on a job?

Long story.

Yeah, well, it's not like
we have a paucity
of time.

It's personal.

What kind of job?

I told you,
it's personal.

Listen, you know,

being a cat person
doesn't necessarily

make you
less of a man.

Will you stop?
You had to be there.

I mean,
it doesn't
make you,

like, a giant pussy.

Truffles.

It was a truffles job.

Truffles...truffles,
like chocolates?

No, like mushrooms.

The fuck-- You did
a mushroom job?

Not mushrooms.
Truffles.

[laughs]:
What the fuck?

Are you fucking
kidding me?

I'm serious.

I mean, figured
dope boys get, what,

18K for a key
of blow?

A kilo of White Alba's
will get you a hundred
fucking K.

Fuck.

How did you get
plugged in with
that?

I knew this crazy kid
from East Boston.

Used to work
in the kitchen
with me in the joint.

Pretty good chef
when he wasn't
robbing armored cars.

I finished my stint,
I get out,

this guy is in Gourmet
fucking magazine.

Ah, and he
needs truffles.

Yeah. Fifty cents
on the dollar.

But where the fuck
is the product?

It's in the ground.
You got to dig it up.

Except he tells me
about this auction

that they hold
once a year, right?

The fucking thing
is simulcast,

Florence,
London, Macau.

Sold.

STACY, OFF:
Now, these things
get brought

in the country chained
to some ex-Mossad's wrist.

High security.

But the guy that runs
the auction decides

he's going to cut costs.

Puts them in a regular
old storage unit

right here in town.

I case the place.

There's only one guard
on night shift.

Poor bastard humps mail
all day for the post office,

so he's out
like a light

soon as the guy
before him
takes off.

But I can't
for the life
of me figure out

what unit
these truffles are in.

I get this methed-out
Bulgarian hacker,

dresses like
Obi-Wan Kenobi,

to try and check
client records for me.

No dice, man.
Place is old-school.

Strictly paper files.

I pull a favor
with Mr. Clean
and borrow a truck.

I start digging
through this place's trash

for billing statements,
invoices, credit
card receipts,

anything I can find
to track these
things down.

But this place
shares an alley
with a Korean fish market,

and the only thing
I'm going to get out
of these Dumpsters

is fucking cholera.

I tell the chef
I'm throwing in
the towel.

I mean, this place
is 12 floors,
50 units each.

But he begs me
to stay on.

Tells me
he's going to pay me
70 cents on the dollar.

So I do
a little research,

find out
about this guy
in New Jersey.

Crazy South African
living in a shack

way out
in the Pine Barrens.

Got that disease
where he's got
no hair on his body.

He trains truffle dogs.

WALKER:
Truffle dogs?

Yeah, well,
they're better
than pigs

because pigs eat
the things.

Dogs will just dig
them up,

as long as you've got food
they like better on standby.

Makes sense.

STACY:
Turns out there's
only a handful

of real deal ace truffle dogs
in the whole fucking country,

and this guy
owns two.

Now, as you know,
at the time, I haven't
yet cultivated

an appreciation
for the canine species,

but I'm looking at this
little Jack Russell
and I'm thinking,

maybe I can make
this work.

Get one of those
carrying cases,

like what's-her-name
with the sex video?

Sneak him
right into the place
and sniff the shit out.

[barks]
Whoa.

This little bastard
must smell my cat
or something,

because he won't even
let me get near him.

That ain't going
to work.

So I have to take
the other one.

WALKER: Wait,
there's another one?

STACY: Yeah,
I already told you.

This guy's got
two of these things.

Keeps the second one
in a big-ass cage

he's got built out back,

because he says
it ain't housebroken yet.

He's got
a big-ass cage
for a Jack Russell?

No, man.

What is it,
a hound
or something?

Mm-mm.

Goddamn standard poodle.

Haircut and everything.

We cover nine floors,

and old boy
is doing his thing,

but he's not getting
any hits.

At this point
I'm getting
nervous, you know,

because the morning crew
is going to relieve

Sleeping Beauty
in half an hour,

and Pom-Poms
ain't seeing shit.

And just
when I'm starting
to think I got conned...

it's all there.

The goddamn
truffle mother lode.

Come on.

So I give Pom-Poms
his reward,

I start loading
these things
out into the hall.

And there's
Sleeping Beauty.

I don't know what must've
happened to this guy

at the post office that day,

but the way
he's looking at me,

I can just tell he's getting
ready to put me down.

I mean, I can do
a stretch just fine,

but the prospect
of getting killed

over a bunch
of mushrooms?

Truffles.

Whatever.
It's not sitting right.

So I start praying
to God.

And the damndest
thing happens.

I mean, if I'd
have pulled
two.45s,

this guy wouldn't
have thought twice

about peeling
my scalp back
right then and there.

But this mailman...

he sees a dog

and he's
in the wind.

[laughs]
Come on.
That's bullshit.

On my life, man.

Took old boy
straight to the groomers,

dropped $200 getting
his pom-pom fluffed.

Been a dog lover
ever since.

What the shit?

WALKER:
Fucking kid.

[flies buzzing]

[sighs]

[indistinct voices]

STACY:
Kid!

Kid!

Nothing.

STACY:
What is it?

OFFICER:
Dispatch, this is K-309.

Checking out the municipal
storage facility,

Conrad and Gardener.

DISPATCHER:
Copy unit K9.

Oh, fuck.

OFFICER:
Got a jimmied door here.

Possible signs
of forced entry.

Going to let Charlie
have a sniff around.

DISPATCHER:
Copy that.

I need
an additional unit
at Conrad and Berger.

OFFICER [over radio]:
Dispatch, this is car 210
responding.

I'm about eight blocks
from Connie, on Lerner.

I'll head over now.

DISPATCHER:
K-309,

car 210
is en route
to you now.

They fucked us.

The kid fucked us.

DISPATCHER:
Be advised,
we are looking

for a late '80s
gold-colored Cadillac.

Castillo suspects
are armed.

[huffing and panting]

[growls]

210 is checking
the perimeter now.

Other units,
please stand by.

Dispatch, we've got
possible activity in here.

Charlie's all fired up
over something.

[growling]

[barks]

Easy. Easy, easy, boy.

Easy, easy.
Good boy, Charlie.

Good boy. It's okay.
Who's a good boy?

You're a good boy.
You're good.

[laughs]:
Hey, good boy.

Good boy, Charlie.
Good boy.

Who's a little boy?
Good boy, Charlie.

You're a good boy,
Charlie.

210, we're all
clear in there.

Just Charlie
chasing his tail again.

Copy that.

[loud bang]

GAGE:
Let me in.

[knocking on door]

[knocking persists]

STACY:
What about the dog?

It's out here playing
Frisbee with me.

GAGE:
The thing was half dead
to begin with.

Let me the fuck in.

[objects crash]

Are you rearranging
the fucking furniture?

GAGE:
Look, there's
a van downstairs

in a loading dock.

GAGE:
I bet you my whole share
the key's sitting right there

in the dead guy's
fucking pocket.

Okay, let me
the fuck in.

You pull that shit again,
you're going to stay
out there.

Yeah, whatever.
[dog barks]

[growling]
WALKER: Fuck!

Shit. Fuck. Shit.

[groans]

Fuck!

Hey!

[grunts]

Oh, fuck.

[barking]
Oh, shit.

[growling]
Run, man.
Go.

[panting]

STACY:
Run!

Fuck. Shit.

[barking]

WALKER:
Kid? You hear me?
Look at me.

STACY:
You okay?

WALKER:
Broke a rib.
I'll live.

Help me with
the fucking kid.

STACY:
Ah, Christ.
Fucking shit.

WALKER:
Hang in there.

We'll find something
to make you
a tourniquet.

Okay?

[barks and growls]

Staunch the flow
and clean it up.

[panting]

Fuck!
WALKER: Fuck!

Come on!

WALKER:
Come on.
Jesus.

Shit.

[distant indistinct chatter]

[dog whines]

MAN 1:
Get the fuck out of here!

MAN 2:
I got-- I got a bag
of marbles around here...

[indistinct chatter]

[dogs barking]

[whines]

That's your prospect?

Uh-huh.
MAN: Ain't nothing
but a pup.

I've been working him.

Shit. What line
he from?

HANDLER:
Scatter-bred.

MAN:
All respect due,

I don't think
you want a tot
going 40 pounds uphill

on the Russian.

Do I look like
a yard boy to you?

No, sir.

Take the fucking dog
and put it in the corner.

Come on, boy.

[dog panting]

[growling]

[growls and barks]

[panting]

[barking]

You could call it
if it's ugly.

You can't.

[dog whining]
Shh.

[barking]

Release your dog.

[dogs growling and barking]

[bodies crashing,
flesh tearing]

[growling, flesh tearing]

[dog whimpers]

[body thuds]

Yeah.

No main cables.

Walker knows
a good doctor.

He came
up doing cuts
for Chuck Wepner,

so he's seen
a lot worse.

WALKER:
He'll get you
squared away,

as soon as we
get the fuck
out of here.

Sorry about...

Yeah, well...

sorry about your face.

Fucking Weeble
Wobble, man.

What the fuck's
a Weeble Wobble?

It's a toy.

Fucking Weeble Wobble,
you know?

Weeble Wobble?
Don't fall down?

Like-- Like a--
Like a Slinky.

Forget it.

Tournament brackets.

WALKER:
Looks like it.

WALKER:
Fucking hell.

What are these? Purses?

WALKER:
Note 25, 50,
100, two.

This is
chump change.

Look at this guy.

Was he
fighting pairs?

Tough motherfucker.

Jesus.

Nobody wins.

WALKER:
Jesus fuck, this
was last night.

Christ, how long
until sundown?

STACY:
Call our ride in 50,
then get out that fire escape.

Yeah, well,
what say you, kid?

Hmm?

Are you a cat person,
or are you more of
a dog person?

Dogs.

I used to love
them books
when I was little

where they got them
acting like people.

You know,
driving around
in cars,

and making deposits
at the bank,

and buying ice
cream cones
and all that.

Dad kept on
having to whup my ass
for trying to talk to them.

To dogs?

Yeah. I'd see them
tied up outside the store,

and I'd ask where
they parked their trucks.

[chuckles]
I always wanted one,

but Pops said
he could hardly
keep us fed.

So I had chickens
and stuff.

You a farm boy?

No, just-- Just country.

A few egg hens,
a busted-ass
old milk cow.

I found this one dog
by the side of the road
when I was 6.

It couldn't have been
more than a couple
years old.

He-- He must've got hit
by a car or something.

His leg was busted up
real bad.

He was a-- He was
a shepherd, I think.

[whimpers]

I knew
my pop wouldn't
let me keep him.

The dog catcher
would just put
him down.

So I hauled his poor ass
all the way back to this
old shack

we had out
behind our house.

And Dad was drinking
so much by then

I knew the toolshed's
the last place he'd be.

But this little dog
was crying so loud
from the pain

that first day,

I was sure he'd hear
no matter how loaded
he was.

I stayed in there
all night,

petting him
and begging
him to be quiet

till he finally
calmed down.

Started bringing
my lunches home
from school.

At first all he wanted
was that cheese
you peel off.

But a few days in
I had him grubbing
on meatballs,

and smiley face tater tots,
and chicken nuggets,

and all that,
like a regular schoolboy.

Had to clean the shit
off his fur every day,

because his leg was still
too fucked to stand up.

But I didn't mind.

Nobody'd ever been
that happy to see me
my whole life

as when I walked
in that room.

Tail wagging so hard
against the ground

he's kicking up dust
all over himself.

[door chime dings]

I'd hide food under my bed
to save up for
the weekends,

you know,
but it was June already.

Pretty soon
school was done.

I busted open
my piggy bank,

sold some baseball cards
I had from Christmas

and bought
him some food,

but I ran out
after a week.

Had to swear I wouldn't come
back to the only store in town

after I got caught
racking Alpo

to convince them
not to tell my pop.

Only one place
left to go for food.

I was having nightmares
just thinking about it.

But the look
on that dog's face
after a couple days,

it was like not eating
wasn't the worst
of it for him.

Like he thought
he was in trouble,
you know?

Like he thought
I was punishing
him for something,

and he couldn't figure out
what it was he did wrong.

Started to get this froth
around his lips.

Tail slowing down.

Two more days,
and it wasn't
hardly moving at all.

It got so I couldn't
stand it anymore.

Waited till late at night.

Never been so scared
in my whole life.

Took a big old
block of hamburg
from the fridge.

Buried the wrapper
with the chickens.

I can still see that dog's face
when he saw me come
in with it.

Swear to God
he's grinning at me
just like a little kid.

Tears running
down his nose,

because he's crying
he's so happy.

Next morning
I came back in
from my chores.

Chickens.

They must have dug it up.

I was praying
while I ran.

Like if I prayed
hard enough,

everything was going
to be okay.

My dad...

he was waiting for me.

Worst part of it was,

dog's got
that same look
he always did

when he saw me
come in.

Like he's smiling
at me.

Tail just wagging away
in the dust.

[dog yelps]

I was stupid.

[clears throat and sniffles]

Stupid kid.

I'm really tired.

[sobs softly]

STACY:
Yeah, well, what am I
supposed to do,

drag that
fucking safe
out of here on foot?

All right. Whatever.
Yeah. Yeah.

Thanks for
fucking nothing.

STACY:
Still too much heat.

Said maybe tomorrow.

Miss January.

Hmm.

Stole her
out of my neighbor's
mailbox last week.

[hinges creak]

Those purses
in the other room.

I know, missing
a couple zeroes.

STACY:
Somebody's coming
back for this.

It's a lot more
than we got
in that safe.

Not too much
to carry out.

I'll pack.

I'll get the kid.

[clears throat]

Fuck.

Might be your lucky day...

Kid.

Stupid kid.

History's a rock.

Can't swim
if you're holding it.

Whenever you're ready.

I'm going to meet you
out there.

Couple more jobs,
then I'm on a plane.

I won't wait.

Not even for you.

[door opens]

STACY, OFF:
I'll see you by the sea.

[door closes]

[Walker grunting]

Hey. Hey.

It's okay.
I'm all right.

I'm all right.

[groans]
Show me.

I'm all right. It's--
Fucking show
me, Walker.

Fuck. I'm okay.

Here, look.

You fucking
kidding me, man?

What?

I seen a guy
in the joint

take a boot party
from the screws,

he looked
just like that.

Went to sleep,
he never woke up.

Fuck that. I just need
to sit for a minute, man.

What the fuck
are you doing?
I'm calling
an ambulance.

Hey.

What the fuck, man?

Solo, you get
out of here easy.

Just go.

Van.

Downstairs.

You heard the kid.

I'll go down there,
take the key off
the dead guy,

I'll come back,
I'll scoop you.

Walk through that door,
that fucking dog's

going to eat
you alive.
What am I
going to do,

sit here and watch
you bleed out into
your own gut?

No. I want you to go down
the fucking fire escape,

and walk away.
Listen, man,

people don't recover
from what you got

without a fucking
doctor.
Get yourself
a ticket.

Shut up.
Get on
a fucking plane...

Shut the fuck up.
...and fly
to the fucking beach.

What makes
you think
I didn't try?

Man, when I walk
past a place,

I clock the traffic
three blocks around.

How far to the street,

how long to the nearest
precinct.

Whether the roof's
softer than the walls,

or if can cut in
through the joint
next door.

I see if the floors
can support
a strongbox,

whether I should
load in a drill,

or if there's
a pick-point
strong enough

so I can drop the unit
into a car downstairs.

Been the same way
since I was

popping spoilers
off of Supras,

doing housebreaks
through doggy doors.

I packed
my fucking
bags, man.

I even bought
one of those
stupid things

you put on your nose
to keep the sun off.

But all I could think about
when it was time
to go was...

how long
before I blew
it all to hell.

So I went ahead
and pulled the pin.

Because why
the fuck should I
postpone the inevitable?

She's gone, Walker.

Five years
fucking gone.

And she said
she wouldn't wait.

All the books
you read,

the great romances,
like runaway trains

that roll over anything
that gets in the way.

Didn't you ever think
they might not just
be a fantasy?

You know,
that you might
be getting in the way

of something
that was meant to be,

and you're just scared
so stupid

you're laying on the tracks
instead of getting onboard?

You know, but
every once
in a while

even a degenerate
gambler

can tell a guy
when it's time
to cash out.

She said...

said she was going to get
a puppy when it came time

to settle down.

Told me I could pick it out
if I was ready to join her.

You said
you couldn't leave,

she said
she wouldn't wait.

But the way
the you two of you
looked at each other...

I think you might
both be liars.

We're getting
the fuck out
of here.

Both of us.

If you say so.
It's your show.

[chain rattling]

[dog panting]

Up.

Sit.

[door closes]

Oh, fuck.

Oh, Christ.

Jesus.

Jesus.

[growls]

Easy.

Easy, boy.

Easy.

Easy.

[growling]

Easy.

[barks]
Shit.

[loud crash]

Fuck.

[breathing heavily]

You got to be
fucking kidding me.

[distant bark]

Oh, shit.

[sniffing]

[growls]

[barks]

[glass shatters]

Aah!

[barking]

[panting]

[footsteps]

[dog sniffing]

[sniffing continuous]

[footsteps galloping]

[loud crash]

[growling]

[loud crash]

Fuck.

[growling]

[groans softly]

[growling]

[dog whines]

[whimpering]

[dog whining continuous]

Fuck.

Easy, now.
Easy, boy.

Easy.
Good.

[loud crash]

We cool?

Walk?

Guess you really are
a dog person.

[laughs]

Let's get you up.
Come on.

Here, sit down.
Sit down.

Sit down,
all right?

[groans]

Day we're having,
that'll be the wrong
key.

[keys rattle]

STACY:
Come on, goddamn it.

All right.
What's behind
door number two?

[door rumbles open]

Cops?

Bird's gone.

You sure you don't want
to stick around?

Yeah.

Right, let's do it.

[grunts]

Oh, boy.

You know,
I'm thinking
maybe I'll retire.

Guy once told me

there are only three
types of last score.

I've been wrong.

Okay.

Come on.

That ain't our ride.

STACY:
Walker!

Walker.
Go!

Walker.

Fuck. Come on.
Come on.

Walker. Walker.

Fuck.

[gunshots]

Fuck!

[machine-gun fire]

[Stacy gasps]

Oh, fuck.

[inhales and exhales]

My mother
had a garden.

It wasn't much more
than a sandbox, really.

But it was hers.

Bluebells growing there.

Beautiful.

Our neighbor had a dog.

Spanish mastiff.

Big bastard.

Did whatever the hell
he pleased.

Kept on coming
into the yard

and digging up
those bluebells.

[sighs]

My mom would cry
each time.

She'd go out,
try to fix the mess,

put it all
back together,

start fresh.

But that dog would go
and do it all over.

I went to talk
to the owner.

I asked him
please to keep
his pet out of our yard.

He was a big guy,
even bigger than the dog.

And I was just a boy.

Well, this mastiff...

[laughs]

...he went
and did it again.

And again, and again,
and again, and again.

[grunts]

So you know what I did?

I shot him.

The neighbor, I mean.

You see,

a beast cannot
be expected

to understand
private property.

But a man,
even a stupid one,

knows the difference
between mine...

and yours.

Like that bag
you got under there.

And what I'm guessing
you got inside it.

Motherfucker.

[panting]

[screams]

Shit.

[panting]

Whoa!

[gunshots]

[gasps]

[groans]

[gunshot]

[groans]

[light bulb buzzes]

That mastiff
I was talking about...

I took him in.

Dogs been a hobby
of mine ever since.

I find them fascinating.

As many ways
as we are different,

just as many
we are the same.

But here's this thing
I noticed.

An old dog been doing
something a while,

it becomes
almost automatic.

Like when you are making
the same drive home
every day

for 20 years,
and the car
just drives you.

Let me put it simply.

You know how it goes
teaching an old dog
new tricks.

What they don't tell you
is why it never sticks.

You see,
an animal been acting
a certain way for a while,

it gets to be
all he knows.

And even if that behavior
isn't working,

even if they are eating
pieces of the carpet,

or chewing up your shoes
and shitting out the laces

until their guts are so tied up
in knots they are half dead,

you reach
a certain point...

Well, it ain't
unheard of for a bitch

to stop eating shoes,

but I ain't never seen it,
myself.

It's not that
complicated.

A dog that fights
is a fighting dog.

A man that steals
is a thief.

You want him to stop...

there's only
one thing to do.

[footsteps]

[whimpering]

[whines]

Well, look at you.

[whimpering]

Come here, boy.

[sniffing]

Come here.

Yeah.

Good boy.

Good boy.

Look at you.

Come here, boy.

MAN:
Come here.

That's it.

MAN:
That's it.
That's it.

[panting]

Fuck you.

[growls]

[screaming]

[gunshot]
No!

[gasping and panting]

Don't!
[gunshot]

[growling]

It's okay.

It's okay, now.

It's okay.

[whines]

You're a good boy.

You're a good boy.

Good boy.

You're a good boy.

[children shouting]

[seagulls squawking]

[Every Day Will Be Like a
Holiday by William Bell plays]

♪ Every day ♪

♪ Will be like a holiday ♪

♪ When my baby ♪

♪ When my baby comes home ♪

♪ Now she's been gone ♪

♪ For such a long time ♪

♪ Ever since she's been gone ♪

♪ She's been on my mind ♪

♪ I got a letter today ♪

♪ Just about noon ♪

♪ She said, "Don't worry
I'll be home soon" ♪

♪ And every day ♪

♪ Will be like a holiday ♪

♪ Oh, I know it will ♪

♪ When my baby ♪

♪ When my baby comes home ♪

♪ I'll never
Have to worry ♪

♪ About sitting
By the phone ♪

♪ When she gets here ♪

♪ I'll never be alone ♪

♪ She said she'd get here ♪

♪ Sometime today ♪

♪ I know when she gets here ♪

♪ She'll never go away ♪

♪ And every day ♪

♪ Oh, yeah ♪

♪ Will be like a holiday ♪

♪ Oh, yes, it will ♪

♪ When my baby ♪

♪ When my baby comes home ♪

♪ Oh, every day ♪

♪ Will be like a holiday ♪

♪ Oh, yes, it will ♪

♪ When my baby... ♪

[choral singing]

[dog panting heavily]