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You Red Welby?

Yes, ma'am. How may I help you?

Are you in charge of renting

the three billboards out on Drinkwater Road?

I didn't know we had any billboards on...

Where is Drinkwater Road?

Past Sizemore turn-off.

Nobody uses it since the freeway got put in.

You're right.

We got three billboards out there.

Nobody's put nothing up there since 1986.

That was Huggies.

How much to rent all three of them out for the year?

A year?

On a road that no one goes down

unless they got lost or they're retards...

For a year?

Quick, ain't you, Welby?

Well,

since what I say goes these days

down at the Ebbing Advertising Desk...

I'm gonna strike you a real good deal.

What's your name?

What's the law on what you can and cannot say on a billboard?

Nothing defamatory,

and you can't say "fuck", "piss" or "cunt". That right?

Uh...

Or...

Anus.

Well, I think I'll be all right then.

Here's 5,000 for the first month.

I assume that'll cover it.

And here's what they are to say.

Why don't you write up a contract

betwixt us while you're at it.

Make sure nobody rents them billboards out from under me.

I guess you're Angela Hayes's mother.

That's right. I'm Angela Hayes's mother.

Name's Mildred.

How long before you get them put up?

Shall we say by...

Easter Sunday?

That would be perfect.

♪ As I was walking down the streets of Laredo ♪

♪ As I walked down to Laredo one day ♪

♪ I spied a young cowboy all wrapped in white linen ♪

♪ All wrapped in white linen and cold as the clay ♪

Hey, what the hell is this?

Que?

"How come, Chief Willoughby" what?

- What? - Yeah.

Huh?

"How come" what?

- What, what? - What?

Listen, you fucking beaner,

I'd better start getting some straight answers.

Put that down.

What the hell is this?

Hey, you. What the fuck is this?

What the fuck is what?

This! This.

Advertising, I guess.

Advertising what?

Something obscure?

I'll say. Yeah.

Don't I know your face from some place?

I don't know, do you?

Yeah. Yeah, I do.

I could arrest you right now...

For what?

For emptying your bucket.

That's being bad against the environment laws.

Well, before you do that, Officer Dixon,

how about you have a look

at that first billboard over there?

And then we can have ourself a conversation

about the motherfucking environment.

How about that?

Fuck me.

Don't, William.

Dixon, you goddamn asshole.

I'm in the middle of my goddamn Easter dinner.

Sorry, kids.

I know, Chief,

and I'm sorry for calling you at home and all, but...

I think we got kind of a problem.

No, no. Go back.

Sorry I'm late, Denise.

Did you put up those billboards yet?

They're up.

Go, girl. You go fuck those cops up.

What the fuck do you think you're doing, Welby?

You didn't think there would be legal ramifications?

What's the legal ramifications, Cedric?

Do you want me to explain?

Little punk like you. And don't call me Cedric!

Ain't contravening no laws on any fucking thing.

I checked.

And where did you check all this out?

In a...

A book.

Which book, genius?

Book called Suck My Ass, It's None Of Your Business.

Fuck.

How long has this person, or persons,

rented these billboards out for?

Oh, the year.

How long has she actually paid for?

The year.

So it's a "she", is it?

I ain't at liberty to divulge

that kind of information, Chief.

Mildred Hayes, perhaps?

Ain't at liberty to divulge

that kind of information, Chief.

Do you really wanna fuck

with the Ebbing Police Department, Red?

Do you?

I guess.

He said what? To your face?

No crime has been committed here.

Defamation of character ain't a crime?

Not if she's simply asking a question.

What are you, an idiot?

Don't call me an idiot, Dixon!

I didn't call you an idiot,

I asked if you was an idiot. That was a question.

He got you there, Cedric.

That's it.

Don't fly off the handle.

Why in the hell you keep that man on?

He's a good man at heart.

He tortured a guy in custody, Bill.

There was no real evidence to support that.

Take them down.

Take that shit down.

What shit?

Hey, boy. Think I wouldn't take you out right here

on Main Street, Red?

Thought you only took out black dudes, Dixon.

No! No! Stop it.

You ever fucking touch me, motherfucker...

You drunk?

- Are you drunk right now? - Get up.

Nobody ever goes down that road anyways.

Unless they got lost. Or they're retards.

Don't be nervous, is the main thing.

It will go just fine.

Don't look into the camera, obviously.

Let's hold for this car.

In three, two, one.

So, Mildred Hayes, why did you put up these billboards?

My daughter, Angela,

was abducted, raped and murdered

seven months ago

along this selfsame stretch of road.

What you watching, Momma? Stupid news?

Seems to me the local police department

is too busy torturing black folks

to be bothered doing anything about solving actual crime.

I thought these billboards

might concentrate their minds some.

Fuck.

I don't know what the police are doing.

I do know that my...

...daughter's burnt body is lying six feet underground.

They're eating Krispy Kremes

and busting eight-year-olds

for skating around parking lots.

And Chief Willoughby,

why single him out?

He's the head of them.

Buck's gotta stop somewhere.

And the buck stops at Willoughby?

Yeah. Dead right it does.

You all right there, fella?

Looks like we got a war on our hands.

Can we talk?

I'd do anything to catch the guy

who did it, Mrs. Hayes.

But when the DNA don't match

no one who's ever been arrested,

and when the DNA don't match any other crime nationwide,

and when there wasn't a single eyewitness

from the time she'd left your house

to the time we found her,

right now there ain't too much more we can do.

Could pull blood from every man and boy in this town

over the age of eight.

There's civil rights laws prevents that, Mrs. Hayes.

What if he was just passing through town?

Every man in the country, then.

What if he was just passing through the country?

If it was me, I'd start up a database.

Every male baby what's born, stick them on it,

and as soon as he done something wrong,

cross-reference it,

make 100% certain it was a correct match,

then kill him.

Yeah, well, there's definitely civil rights laws

prevents that.

I'm doing everything I can to track him down.

I don't think those billboards is very fair.

The time it took you to get out here

whining like a bitch, Willoughby,

some other poor girl's probably

being butchered right now.

But I'm glad you got your priorities straight,

I'll say that for you.

There's something else, Mildred.

I got cancer.

I'm dying.

I know it.

Huh?

I know it. Most everybody in town knows it.

And you still put up those billboards?

Well, they wouldn't be as effective

after you croak. Right?

Well, looky looky.

If it ain't the instigator

of this whole goddamn affair in the first place.

I didn't instigate shit, Dixon.

Playing pool against the town midget.

He's right, Red,

you are playing pool against the town midget.

He's a cop, he's observant.

I always disliked you,

ever since you was a snotty little child.

You still look like a snotty little child.

That's unfortunate. I always thought you was great.

Even your name, Red Welby. Even your name I disliked.

Well, okay.

Like you was some kind of goddamn communist

and proud of it.

No, it's because I got red hair.

You know what they do to faggots

down in Cuba, Welby?

Wow, that's left field.

No, what do they do to faggots down in Cuba, Dixon?

They kill them.

Which, it might surprise you to learn, I'm against.

I'm not sure if they do kill faggots

down in Cuba, Dixon.

I know Cuba's human rights record's pretty deplorable

when it comes to homosexuality,

but killing them?

Are you sure you ain't thinking of Wyoming?

Always gotta be the smart-ass, Jesus.

He's quite good, isn't he?

Hey, Willoughby's a good man. Hey, look at me. Look at me.

I'm talking nice to you now, aren't I?

I'm talking nice to you.

He's a good man.

Shouldn't have this be the only thing he thinks about,

last months left to him.

Last months what?

Oh...

You didn't know?

Yeah, pancreatic.

I'm up next. You old ladies quit yakking.

Rude.

Hey, Mildred.

I saw you on TV the other day.

- Oh, yeah? - Yeah, you looked good.

I mean, you know, you came across really good

in the things that you were saying.

I didn't think you came across real good.

I thought you came across as a stupid-ass.

Ain't it about time you got home

to your momma, Dixon?

No, it ain't time I go home to my momma.

I told her I was gonna be out till 12:00, actually.

Jesus.

That's me versus you, Mildred. Uh-huh.

Hey, Robbie. I think that midget

wants to get in my pants.

Father Montgomery.

Mildred. I'm sorry to be calling on you so late,

but, uh...

I must say, Robbie has been the consummate host.

Despite his having had, as he was just telling me

somewhat of a tricky day at school.

Just some of the guys on the team giving me crap.

Crap about what?

About the billboards, Mildred.

Which is what I've come to have a word with you about.

Oh. Proceed.

I know how hard it's been for you, Mildred,

this past year. We all do.

And if there is ever anything that you need,

we will be there for you.

Always.

But the town also knows

what kind of a man William Willoughby is.

And the town is dead set

against these billboards of yours.

Took a poll, did you, Father?

If you hadn't stopped coming to church,

you'd have a little bit more understanding

of the depth of people's feelings.

More than a dozen people came to me on Sunday.

So, yes, I took a poll.

Everybody is with you about Angela.

Nobody is with you about this.

You know what I was thinking about today?

I was thinking about those street gangs

they have down in Los Angeles,

those Crips and those Bloods.

And I was thinking about that bunch of new laws

they came up with

in the 1980s, I think it was,

to combat those street gangs, those Crips and those Bloods.

And, if I remember rightly,

the gist of what those new laws were saying was,

if you join one of these gangs,

and you're running with them,

and down the block one night, unbeknownst to you,

one of your fellow Crips, or your fellow Bloods,

shoot up a place, or stab a guy...

Well then, even though

you may not know nothing about it

and you were just standing on a street corner

minding your own business,

what these new laws said was you're still culpable.

You're still culpable by the very act of having

joined those Crips and those Bloods

in the first place.

Which got me thinking, Father,

that whole type of situation

is kinda like you church boys, ain't it?

You got your colors, you got your clubhouse.

You're, for want of a better word, a gang.

And if you were upstairs

smoking a pipe and reading your Bible

while one of your fellow gang members

is downstairs fucking an altar boy, well...

Father, just like those Crips, and just like those Bloods,

you're culpable.

Because you joined the gang, man.

I don't care if you never did shit,

you never saw shit, you never heard shit,

you join the gang, you're culpable.

And when a person is culpable to altar-boy-fucking,

or any kinda boy-fucking,

because I know you guys didn't really narrow that down,

then you kinda forfeit the right to come into my house

and say anything about me

or my life, or my daughter, or my billboards.

So why don't you just finish up your tea there, Father,

and get the fuck outta my kitchen.

But thanks for coming up anyway, Father.

How you been feeling, Bill?

Ah, like I got cancer in a major organ.

Well, I just want you to know we're all on your side

about this Mildred Hayes thing.

If I have to hear that one more fucking time...

I'm done with this shit. I can't waste my life waiting.

Stop reading fucking comic books

and get me the file on the Hayes case.

Angela Hayes case or the Mildred Hayes case?

There is no Mildred Hayes case.

We've had two official complaints

about those billboards, so, actually...

From who?

There's a lady with a funny eye

and a fat dentist.

Get me the file on the Angela Hayes case.

"Lady with a funny fucking eye"?

Jesus Christ.

Late night?

No.

Lay off that Welby guy, will you?

Or you'll do what?

Kick your momma's fucking teeth in.

No, you won't.

Who told you I was laying on him anyway? The midget?

What the fuck are you talking about?

And I'm trying to fucking concentrate.

Fucking midgets!

What you looking for anyway?

There's nothing to look for.

I don't know what it is.

It feels like it's kinda waggling.

Well, if it's waggling, it's gonna have to come out.

Ain't you gonna take a look at it first?

It's gonna have to come out.

Can I get a little Novocaine there, doc?

Give it a couple of minutes.

There's a lot of good friends

of Bill Willoughby in this town.

No! Ow! Stop! No!

God damn it!

Then why don't you tell those good friends

of Bill Willoughby

to tell him to go do his fucking job, fat boy.

Hey, Mildred.

You didn't happen to pay a visit

to the dentist today, did you?

- No. - Huh?

I said "no".

So it wasn't you who drilled a little hole

in one of big fat Geoffrey's big fat thumbnails, no?

- Of course not. - Huh?

I said "of course not".

You drilled a hole in the dentist?

Denise, no, I didn't.

I thought it was kinda funny myself,

but he wants to press charges,

so we're gonna have to bring you in, I'm afraid.

So how's it all going

in the nigger-torturing business, Dixon?

It's persons-of-color-torturing business, these days.

If you wanna know, I didn't torture nobody.

What's the matter with you,

saying that goddamn stuff on TV?

My momma watches that station.

She doesn't know about the torturing?

No. She's against that kinda thing.

Who's against what?

My momma is against persons-of-color-torturing.

She said "nigger-torturing".

I said, "You can't say 'nigger-torturing' no more.

"You gotta say persons-of-color-torturing."

Isn't that right, Chief?

Ain't that right?

I think I'll be able to take care of Mrs. Hayes

on my own from here on, Jason.

Sure, Chief. I'll be right outside.

Don't give me that look.

If you got rid of every cop with vaguely racist leanings,

you'd have three cops left,

and all of them are gonna hate the fags.

So what are you gonna do, you know?

I wanna know something, Mildred.

Why did you drill a hole

through poor fat Geoffrey's thumbnail?

That did not happen.

His hand slipped.

He drilled a hole through his own self.

Did he say I did it?

I guess it's his word

against mine, then, huh?

Kinda like in all those rape cases you hear about.

Except, this time, the chick ain't losing.

It ain't really about winning or losing, though,

is it, Mildred?

You think I care about who wins or loses

between the two of youse?

You think I care about dentists?

I don't care about dentists.

Nobody cares about dentists.

What I do care about, or what I'm

interested in

is tying you up in court so long

that your hours at the gift shop

be so shot to shit

that you ain't gonna have a penny

to pay for another month's billboards.

That's what I'm interested in.

I got some dough put away.

But what I heard was you had to sell off

your ex-husband's tractor-trailer

to even pay for this month's billboards, that right?

How is old Charlie, by the way?

He still shacked up with that pretty little intern

works down at the zoo?

Still shacked up with some chick smells of shit.

I don't know if the zoo's got anything to do with it.

Although I'd hope so.

How old is she? Nineteen?

That must smart.

Keep trying. Keep trying.

What's Charlie think about these billboards of yours,

an ex-cop like Charlie?

Ex-cop, ex-wife-beater.

Same difference, I guess, right?

His word against yours, though, right?

Charlie don't know about them, does he?

It's none of his business.

He's kinda paying for them, though.

I'm paying for them!

This month you are.

How about when...

I didn't mean to...

I know.

It was an accident.

I know, baby.

It's blood.

I'm gonna go get somebody.

Hey!

Just let her go.

Come on, Chief.

Just let her go!

Easy, easy, easy.

Hey...

Do birds get cancer?

Huh?

Birds. Do they get cancer?

I don't know. Dogs do.

Yeah, well, I wasn't talking about dogs, was I?

Great, the good old "Raped While Dying" ride home.

If there was two seconds in a day

when I wasn't thinking about how she died...

"Think about it some more, why don't you?"

As much as a person might have

tried to avoid the details of what happened

because he didn't think it would do any good,

and he couldn't bear it,

it's also good to be informed in 20-foot-high font

the precise details of her last moments.

That it wasn't enough that she was raped

and it wasn't enough that she died, no.

"Raped While Dying."

Thank you, Mom.

I gave you the police reports.

I didn't read them.

I'm depressed enough as it fucking is.

Mom?

Yeah?

You ain't going out again tonight, are you?

Denise and I are gonna grab a couple of beers.

Denise gonna be driving you?

Why don't you just ask to borrow the car?

- Can I borrow the car? - No.

Bitch!

I will give you money for a taxi

if you ask nice and don't call me a bitch.

Why make me ask if you weren't gonna let me?

It was funny.

And because you've been smoking pot all day.

- You are such a hypocrite. - Hypocrite?

- Yeah. - How?

Drove drunk when we were kids.

What are you talking about?

Daddy told me.

When did you see him?

Don't change the subject.

Did you drive drunk with us in the car when we were kids?

Once, maybe.

Okay, once?

When he was in the middle of beating the shit out of me.

Which we've only got your word about!

Angela, for Christ sakes.

Why are you never on my side?

I'm always on your side when you're not being a cunt!

Hey!

There will be no more "cunts" in this house.

Are you moving out?

It was a gag.

Are you gonna let me borrow the car or what?

Why don't you just walk, Angela?

You know what? I will walk.

And you know what else? I hope I get raped on the way!

I hope you do too!

Gonna need to keep you in a few days, Bill.

You shouldn't be coughing up blood.

Yeah, I kinda guessed that, Doc.

I'll swing by in the morning.

Anne.

I guess I'll go get your coat, huh?

Well, you know I ain't staying.

You know I ain't arguing.

Oops.

You old cunt.

I'm not old, Robbie.

That's Dad.

Hey, Dad. How's it going?

Where's the crazy lady?

Kid has got Rice fucking Krispies in his fucking hair.

What's going on?

What's going on with these fucking billboards?

Kinda self-explanatory.

Why don't you explain it to me?

Guess it ain't self-explanatory, then.

I wanted certain people's minds

kept on certain people's jobs, is all.

Hadn't heard from them in seven goddamn months.

I've heard an awful lot from them

since I put them billboards up.

You think this has focused their minds? Mmm?

It's focused their minds on how exactly

are they gonna fuck you up.

The more you keep a case in the public eye,

the better your chances are of getting it solved.

It's in all the guidebooks.

How much these billboards cost?

About the same as a tractor-trailer.

What the fuck are you laughing at?

Nothing.

Laughed at by a guy

with fucking cereal in his hair.

How's Penelope?

Huh? She's all right.

Why don't you invite her in?

Save leaving her sitting out there.

- She here? - She's out in the car.

That explains it.

That explains what?

I know I smelt something.

Let her go!

Oh! Um, I kinda need to use the bathroom,

but if it's inconvenient...

Actually, it is inconvenient, isn't it?

I can hold it. It's all right.

It's the first door down the hall.

Sure? I feel like I'm intruding.

Just go pee.

Oh.

Look, you said what you came to say.

So why don't you go get zoo girl

and get the hell out of my house, all right?

Um, actually, zoo-wise, they were letting people go

at the zoo, unfortunately,

and it was a case of "last in, first out". So...

Unfortunately the zoo had to let me go.

But they were looking for people

down at the horse rides for the disableds.

So I'm working down there now,

looking after the disableds' horses.

Don't say a word.

I wasn't gonna say a word.

You don't think I don't wish it had never happened?

You don't think I don't wish she was still here?

I know you do.

I know you do.

Billboards ain't gonna bring her back, Mildred.

Neither is fucking 19-year-olds, Charlie.

Yeah?

But I know that.

Just go.

Yeah, all right.

I'm such a shitty dad

and you're such a great mom. All right.

So how come a week before she died

she's asking if she can move in with me at my place?

Couldn't stand you bitching

and fighting with each other no more.

I don't believe you.

I said, "Stay, your mom loves you."

Now I wish I hadn't. She'd still fucking be here.

I don't believe you!

Don't believe me.

Ask Froot Loop boy.

Is that true?

I don't know, Mom.

Yeah, you do.

What's the matter?

Nothing.

Oh, come on, not Donald Sutherland again.

What is this, frickin' Donald Sutherland season?

I like him. I like his hair.

Hair?

This is the one where his little girl dies.

Always a plus in a movie.

Talking of dead kids,

what's happening with the billboard lady?

Oh, that kooz won't listen to reason.

She's tough as an old boot.

Oh...

Why don't you just fuck her over

through her friends then?

Huh?

You know, why don't you fuck her friends over?

Bring her around that way.

She got any friends you can fuck over?

Rat bastards.

Hey, fuckhead!

What?

Don't say "what", Dixon,

when she comes in calling you a fuckhead.

- And don't you... - Shut up!

You, get over here.

No! You, get over here.

All right.

What? Dixon!

You do not allow a member of the public

to call you a fuckhead in the station house!

I'm taking care of it in my own way.

Now get out of my ass.

Mrs. Hayes, have a seat. What can I do for you today?

Where's Denise Watson?

In the clanger.

- On what charge? - Possession.

Of what?

Two marijuana cigarettes.

Big ones.

When is the bail hearing?

I asked the judge not to give her bail

on account of her previous marijuana violations,

and the judge said "sure."

You fucking prick!

You do not call an officer of the law a fucking prick

in his own station house, Mrs. Hayes.

Or anywhere, actually.

What's with the new attitude, Dixon?

Your momma been coaching you?

No.

My momma

doesn't do that.

Take them down, you hear me?

You did good, Dixon.

Yeah, I know I did.

Almost got that.

The rules here are twofold.

No kid can leave this goddamn blanket

at any goddamn time.

And every single one

of these dolls and these teddy bears

has got to be hooked up.

Now, your momma and I,

although it won't look like it,

we'll be watching every goddamn move you make.

So the most important thing while we are watching you

is that you do not leave this blanket.

Next most important thing, you do not at any stage

allow the fishing rods

to stick into you or your sister's eyeballs,

as this would be counter-productive

to the entire operation.

What would it be?

Counter-productive to the entire operation.

Then, troops,

start fishing.

We are not.

We are.

Yes.

Hey, baby.

Yeah, still no arrests.

How come, I wonder?

Because there ain't no God, the whole world's empty,

and it doesn't matter what we do to each other?

I hope not.

How come you came up here

outta nowhere looking so pretty?

You ain't trying to make me believe

in reincarnation or something, are you?

Because you're pretty, but you ain't her.

She got killed,

and now she's dead forever.

I do thank you for coming though.

If I had some food I'd give it to you.

All I got is some Doritos.

They might kill you, they're kind of pointy.

Then where would we be?

Yeah, so I, uh, just happened to be looking

over our contract that we drew up back that time.

What I realized was I...

I realized that although payment is to be made

on the first day of each month,

the first payment you paid was actually a deposit.

Wasn't it? It's like we said.

So, actually, in point of fact,

you're actually behind in your payments now,

by, yeah, a month.

Yeah, that's, uh...

It's what the contract says, looking over it and all.

The lawyer says so too.

When you need this next payment by, Red?

Well, now, really.

Or by... Uh...

Friday?

Wow.

When you can't trust the lawyers

and the advertising men,

what the hell's America coming to, huh?

Who got to you, Red?

Willoughby?

Nobody got to me.

My fat fucking ass.

He's dying, Mildred.

We're all fucking dying!

Hi, Pamela. We're a little bit busy

at the moment, if that's okay.

I know you were real anxious

about talking to Mrs. Hayes this morning...

Anxious? No.

No need to be, because you won't believe it!

A little Mexican delivery boy just dropped in with this.

What the hell is this?

I know!

It's $5,000! And guess what the note says?

It says to pay for the rental on Mrs. Hayes's billboards.

Can you believe it? That's why I butted in.

Who's it from?

Doesn't say.

- Well, where's the delivery boy? - He went.

Did you see what company he was from?

No.

What kind of uniform did he have on?

Well, he just looked like one of those

fat little Mexican boys.

On a bicycle.

Did I do something wrong?

No, Pam, you did good.

Yeah, Pamela, you did real good.

Did I? Oh, great.

Ain't life crazy?

What's the note say, Red?

Says, "This here money is to go towards the fund

"for Mildred Hayes's billboards,

"because she ain't the only one 'round here

"who hates the pigs. Signed, a friend."

I guess you can't be too picky about who your friends are

these days, huh?

Uh-huh, um...

I guess I'll be needing a receipt off you there, Red,

you know, saying the price of next month

is paid in full and all.

Oh, sure, Mildred, sure.

Like now.

Oh, sure.

Is Mommy drunk, Daddy?

No. She's just got a little migraine, is all.

Little Chardonnay migraine.

Now, no more chit-chat outta you two, okay?

Can we stay home from school again tomorrow, Daddy?

We'll see what your mommy says in the morning, darling.

Aw!

Eyes closed

and go to sleep, okay?

You don't smell like puke, which is good.

Aquafresh. Trick I learned.

Women, huh?

But it's still your turn to clean the horseshit

outta the stable, you know.

Those fucking horses.

They're your fucking horses.

I'm gonna have those fucking horses shot!

I'll do it, you lazy bitch.

Thank you, Poppa.

That was a real nice day.

That was a real nice fuck.

You got a real nice cock, Mr. Willoughby.

Is that from a play?

"You got a real nice cock, Mr. Willoughby."

I think I heard that in a Shakespeare one time.

You dummy.

It's Oscar Wilde.

Ah.

Oscar Wilde.

My darling Anne,

there's a longer letter in the dresser drawer

I've been writing for the last week or so.

That one covers us and my memories of us

and how much I've always loved you.

This one just covers tonight, and more importantly, today.

Tonight I've gone out to the horses to end it.

I cannot say sorry for the act itself,

although I know that for a short time

you will be angry at me or even hate me for it.

Please don't.

This is not a case of, "I came in this world alone

"and I'm going out of it alone,"

or anything dumb like that.

I did not come in this world alone,

my mom was there.

And I am not going out of it alone,

because you are there,

drunk on the couch, making Oscar Wilde cock jokes.

No, this is a case, in some senses, of bravery.

Not the bravery of facing a bullet down.

The next few months of pain

would be far harder than that small flash.

No, it's the bravery of weighing up

the next few months of still being with you,

still waking up with you, of playing with the kids

against the next few months of seeing in your eyes

how much my pain is killing you,

how my weakened body, as it ebbs away,

and you tend to it,

are your final and lasting memories of me.

I won't have that.

Your final memories of me will be us at the riverside

and that dumb fishing game, which I think they cheated at,

and me inside of you and you on top of me

and barely a fleeting thought of the darkness yet to come.

That was the best, Anne.

A whole day of not thinking about it.

Dwell on this day, baby,

because it was the best day of my life.

Kiss the girls for me,

and know that I've always loved you,

and maybe I'll see you again if there's another place.

And if there ain't, well, it's been heaven knowing you.

Your boy,

Bill.

What the hell's going on around here?

What?

Can you stand now?

Yeah, I can stand.

I'd better get out there,

say something to them.

You ain't gonna faint again, are you?

I know that the best thing,

the only thing to honor that man's memory right now

is to go to work.

Is to be a good cop.

To walk in his shoes

and do what he did every day of his life.

Help people.

What the hell's going on?

Where are you going, boy?

You fucking pig! What the fuck are you?

Shut up.

See, Red, I got issues with white folks too.

Fuck you looking at?

Reports, sadly, have come in overnight,

that Chief William Willoughby of Ebbing, Missouri

took his own life early this morning

in the grounds of his home.

This report just in from Gabriella Forrester.

Tragedy came calling today

upon this quiet family home outside Ebbing, Missouri,

belonging to Chief Willoughby,

his wife, Anne, their two young daughters,

Polly and Jane.

What appears to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound

brought life to an end for Chief Willoughby,

a man highly-respected in Ebbing

for his diligence and service to the community.

What led him to take his life

in the early hours of this morning,

it is too early to speculate.

There were rumors of illness.

Could it simply have been the pressures of the job?

Or could it have something to do with a story

we ran here just two weeks ago

of these billboards,

and the woman who put them there,

Mildred Hayes?

Don't. Don't!

Hi, there.

You know who threw that can?

What can?

How about you, sweetheart? You know who threw that can?

Uh, no, I didn't see.

Thank you, Mom.

And what can I do for you today, sir?

What's your name?

Name's on my tag, man. You hard of reading?

Hard of reading? No, no.

That's good, "hard of reading".

Kinda like "hard of hearing",

but it's actually "hard of reading".

Like a play on words or something, huh?

What do you want?

I've been sent to take over

from Chief Willoughby

in light of last night's unfortunate event.

You have got to be fucking kidding me!

Do you have any documentation to prove that, sir?

You really wanna see my documentation, fucker?

Yeah, see his documentation! Make him show it to you.

None of you cracker motherfuckers got no work to do?

Ain't that racist?

What happened to your hand, Officer Dixon?

Oh, I just kinda

banged it up a little bit

while I was throwing some guy out a fucking window.

You know, the usual.

Yeah?

They never taught me that one at the academy.

Which fucking academy you go to?

How are things coming along on that Angela Hayes case?

How's things coming along

on the mind your own fucking business case?

How are things coming along

on the hand me your gun and your badge?

Huh?

Hand me your gun and your badge.

Shit.

It's in here somewhere.

Hey, listen, I can't find my badge.

No, seriously. Maybe I lost it.

Dropped it when I was doing that window guy.

Just get the fuck out of my station house, man.

What's going on?

I think I just got fired.

Fired or suspended, I'm not sure which.

Fired.

Anything I can help you with, just give me a holler.

Give Mildred Hayes

a holler.

Okay.

You know me?

Only from the TV and the radio.

How much these here

"Welcome to Missouri" rabbits go for?

Seven bucks. It's writ right on them.

Guess he ain't seven bucks now.

What did you come in here for?

What did I come in here for?

Maybe I'm a good friend of Willoughby's, how about that?

Are you?

Or, you know...

Maybe I was a friend of your daughter or something.

How about that?

Were you?

Or, um...

You know, maybe I was the one

who fucked her while she was dying.

How about that?

Were you?

No.

I would have liked to.

I saw her picture in the paper there.

Saved by the bell, huh?

You owe me seven fucking dollars for the rabbit.

Guess you'll have to get it off me

next time I'm passing through.

Guess I will.

You don't know how glad I am to see you.

What?

That guy was trying to scare me.

I wouldn't have said you scare easy.

I ain't the worst.

What can I do for you, ma'am?

My husband left this for you

before he shot himself in the head last night.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Willoughby...

Are you?

Are you really?

- Sure, I am. - Surely this is the perfect ending for you, isn't it?

Proof those billboards of yours were successful,

a dead policeman?

It's quantifiable now.

Are you blaming this on me?

No.

I'm not blaming this on you.

I just came to give you the letter.

Now my little girls are out in the car,

so I'd better not stay and chat.

I'm not quite sure what we're gonna do

for the rest of the day.

It's hard to know what to do

the day your husband kills himself.

It's hard to know what to do.

Dear Mildred,

Dead Man Willoughby here.

Firstly, I wanted to apologize for dying

without catching your daughter's killer.

It's a source of great pain to me,

and it would break my heart to think

you thought I didn't care. I did.

There are just some cases

where you never catch a break,

then five years down the line

some guy hears some other guy

bragging about it in a bar room or a jail cell

and the whole thing is wrapped up

through sheer stupidity.

I hope that might be true for Angela, I really do.

Second, I gotta admit, Mildred,

the billboards were a great fucking idea.

They were like a chess move.

And although they had absolutely nothing

to do with my dying,

I'm sure that everyone in town

will assume that they did,

which is why, for Willoughby's counter-move,

I decided to pay the next month's rent on them.

I thought it would be funny, you having to defend them

another whole month

after they've stuck me in the ground.

The joke is on you, Mildred, ha ha,

and I hope they do not kill you.

So good luck with all that,

and good luck with everything else too.

I hope and I pray that you get him.

Well, you want me to go down and talk to them?

No, I don't want you to go down and talk to them.

Somebody sending their goddamn mother

down to talk to the goddamn police?

To say what?

To say to give you your job back.

Get rid of that black guy.

Ain't gonna listen to some guy's mother

asking them to get rid of some black guy.

Things have moved on in the South.

Well, it shouldn't have!

Will they give you some money for being laid off and all?

I don't know what the compensation scheme is

for when you throw a guy out of a window, Ma.

Guess I should have looked into that beforehand.

Let me Google that.

A couple of grand, maybe?

You been there three years.

Not counting the five years at the academy.

Six,

if you count the year you were held back.

Where are you going?

None of your business.

Off to see your fancy woman?

I don't got a fancy woman.

Yeah. I know.

Hey, you wanna watch yourself.

Or, or you'll do what?

I'll blow your goddamn head off, that's what.

Oh, did you hear the news?

What news?

That Dixon guy threw that Welby guy

out of his window this morning.

You're shitting me.

Is he okay?

Mmm-mmm.

- You're shitting me! - Whoa!

Holy shit! Holy shit!

Holy shit!

Fuck!

Get the other one from the house.

Shouldn't I call the fire department?

Fuck them. They probably started it.

Don't do anything stupid!

Scumbags!

Fucking, fucking scumbags!

Shit!

All right!

Are you kidding me?

What the hell are you doing?

Okay. Good. Come on.

Leave it! Ma, please!

It's too late!

- Robbie... - Leave it! Please!

Robbie!

How are those hands?

Give us a minute here. Thank you.

Can I ask you a couple of questions?

You can ask me all the questions you want,

you take me down and arrest me.

I'm not gonna arrest you, Mrs. Hayes.

I got nothing to arrest you for.

Not yet you ain't.

We ain't all the enemy, you know.

I'll crucify the motherfuckers.

What are you gonna do, Mildred?

You gonna crucify them?

Yeah, I'm gonna crucify them.

Who you gonna crucify?

The motherfuckers?

Yeah, I'm gonna

crucify the motherfuckers.

Ooh, then those motherfuckers

better watch out, all right?

Fucking A.

What's this shit?

And as sad as the spectacle

of these burned out billboards might be,

in light of the death of Chief Willoughby,

this reporter for one

wonders if this finally puts an end

to the strange saga of the three billboards...

This doesn't put an end to shit, you fucking retard,

this is just the fucking start!

Why don't you put that on your

Good Morning Missouri fucking Wake Up broadcast, bitch!

I see on the TV there were a bunch of fires

lit outside of town last night.

Bunch of fires, huh?

Out at those billboards.

Back when I was a cop I would have been

interested in who set those fires,

because, technically, that's arson,

but as I'm no longer employed by those people,

I don't really give a goddamn.

I'll get it.

Dixon residence.

Hey, Dixon, it's Cedric.

Oh, hey, Sarge. You got any news?

- News about what? - I don't know.

About my job and stuff?

No. No. What?

No.

Anne Willoughby just dropped in a letter

that Bill wrote you before he died.

What's it say?

I haven't read it, it's not my letter.

Oh, well, listen, I'll come right down.

Um, I'll be there in like 15 minutes.

Well... Uh...

Not such a great idea, things as they stand, Jason.

You still got your keys

to the station house, though, right?

Yeah.

Why don't you come and pick it up

after everyone's gone home?

I can leave it on your desk for you.

Oh, okay.

Actually, yeah, then

when you're done, you can

just leave the keys,

you know, save us picking them up later.

All right.

Jason, Willoughby here.

I'm dead now, sorry about that.

There's something I wanted to say to you

that I never really said when I was alive.

I think you've got the makings

of being a really good cop, Jason.

And you know why?

Because deep down you're a decent man.

I know you don't think I think that,

but I do, dipshit.

I do think you're too angry, though.

And I know it's all since your dad died,

and you had to go look after your mom.

But as long as you hold on to so much hate,

then I don't think you're ever gonna become

what I know you wanna become.

A detective.

Because you know what you need to become a detective?

And I know you're gonna wince when I say this...

But what you need to become a detective is love.

Fuck 'em.

Because through love comes calm,

and through calm comes thought.

And you need thought to detect stuff sometimes, Jason.

It's kinda all you need.

You don't even need a gun.

And you definitely don't need hate.

Hate never solved nothing.

But calm did. And thought did.

Try it. Try it just for a change.

No one will think you're gay.

And if they do, arrest them for homophobia.

Won't they be surprised.

Good luck to you, Jason, you're a decent man.

And yeah, you've had a run of bad luck,

but things are gonna change for you. I can feel it.

Calm.

Calm.

Calm.

What did you see?

When we turned the corner from Spring,

the fire was already raging, and

about two seconds later the cop fella,

he just jumps out of the window.

Wait... The two of you turned the corner from Spring?

Where were you before this?

Round my place.

You two boyfriend and girlfriend?

Early stages, you know.

Is that right?

We had a couple of dates.

You wanna go out to dinner with me next week?

Yeah, I'll go out to dinner with you.

But I ain't gonna fuck you.

Well, I... I ain't gonna fuck you neither.

I guess.

Burn victim. He's pretty heavily sedated.

Hey, man. You doing okay?

Jeez, you got burned up pretty bad, huh?

You'll be okay though.

You want a glass of orange juice?

I got a straw somewhere.

Hey, hey...

Don't cry.

You'll be okay.

I'm sorry, Welby.

You know me?

I'm sorry.

You're sorry for what?

Throwing you out the window.

Sorry.

I don't care!

Stop fucking crying, God damn it!

The salt will just fuck up your wounds.

I thought it was good for wounds.

What am I, a fucking doctor?

Who is it?

Oh, you don't know me really.

Well, what do you want?

I come about the billboards.

What about them?

They got burned up.

I know that.

I'm one of the guys who put them up in the first place.

Jerome.

What can I do for you, Jerome?

When you put up a bunch of posters like that...

Just in case any of them get screwed up or torn, they...

Give you a set of duplicates, you know?

No, I didn't know that.

Ladder's pretty steady as it is there, James.

That's okay. I like holding ladders.

Takes me out of myself.

- Need a hand? - Hey.

- When did you get out? - An hour ago.

Judge threw it out.

Said the arrest report weren't filled out right.

Mmm.

Say, you...

You didn't burn down the police station, did you?

No, she was with me the whole night.

- Why would you... - It's a long story.

Hey.

Hey.

Still wanna put up the Willoughby one,

him being dead and all?

Why not? He paid for it.

True.

Look at this fucking asshole.

- First round is on you? - Yeah.

Well, here we are.

Here we are.

I like cheesy things.

I'm gonna look for cheesy things.

All right.

Who's that?

My ex-husband.

And his 19-year-old girlfriend.

You wanna leave?

No, no. Deal's a deal.

It was fucking wild.

I think I was certifiably fucking insane

for a while back then.

When was this?

About nine, ten months ago.

Were you on your own?

I had a couple of buddies with me.

- Oh, yeah? - Yeah.

They fuck her too?

I think they got their kicks just watching, you know.

Oh, yeah?

Yeah.

Was she hot?

Once the gasoline kicked in she was hot.

Swear, I wanted to fuck her even more

right then and there.

I don't know if I could get that out of my mind.

I ain't going down for that shit,

last fucking day down there.

He been there the whole time?

Who?

Burnt face Jake. Keeps fucking walking up and down.

I don't know. I don't think so.

- Another round? - Yeah.

Eight bucks.

Maestro.

Can I help you with something?

Excuse me?

Looking over here all fucking night.

Unless you've got something to say,

why don't you take your burnt fucking face

and get the fuck out of here?

What are you doing?

Wait, wait, wait...

Just trust me, okay? Do you like magic?

Just trust me.

Just do the fucking trick, man.

Okay.

What the fuck!

Hey.

Hey!

- That's enough! - What's it to you, fucker?

Guy is a cop, man. He's a cop.

Oh, yeah?

He ain't wearing no badge.

I lost my badge.

Can't remember where I lost it.

You started this. I didn't do shit to you!

I know I started it.

I scratched you up like a bitch.

That's exactly fucking right.

I'm gonna go use the little boy's room.

You got something to say to me?

If I'd known, we could have double dated.

Doesn't shit girl have a curfew weeknights?

No.

I was gonna take her to the circus later,

but there's no need now.

Does he juggle?

I'm having dinner because he did me a favor.

You don't have to explain

why you're having dinner with a midget.

I'm not explaining myself to you.

You kind of are.

I didn't come here to break your balls.

You can date as many midgets as you want.

I came to say I was sorry, actually.

Sorry for what?

Sorry about what happened to your billboards and all.

It's all water under the bridge, I guess.

Good.

I'm glad. I was pretty drunk,

but it still don't excuse it.

All this anger, man.

Penelope said to me the other day...

"It just begets greater anger."

You know? It's true.

Penelope said "begets"?

Yeah.

"It begets greater anger."

Well...

You take care of this little lady, okay, sport?

Big lady compared to you, right?

- You all right? - I think I wanna go home now.

Don't give me any shit, James.

We'll do it another night, all right?

Why would I want to?

You've been embarrassed ever since we arrived.

For Christ sake. I didn't force you

to come on this date. You forced me.

Forced you?

I asked you on a date.

Wow. You know...

I know I'm not that much of a catch.

I know I'm a dwarf who sells used cars

and has a drinking problem.

But who the hell are you, man?

You're that billboard lady who

never smiles,

never has a good word to say about anybody,

and who, in the evening times,

sets fucking fire to police stations!

And I'm the one who's not a catch?

Hey!

You know, I didn't have to come and hold your ladder.

Now, don't make a scene.

Did you really tell him "Anger begets greater anger"?

Oh! Yes! I did.

I didn't make it up myself though.

I can't claim that.

No, I read it on a bookmark.

Which was in a book I was reading.

About polio.

Polo. No. Which is the one with the horses?

Polio or polo?

- Polo. - Polo.

Be nice to her, Charlie.

You got that?

Jason!

- Jason. - Don't look at me.

What have they done to you?

Leave me, Momma.

No. No!

Open up this door!

Please, Jason.

I love you. Please.

You're my baby boy. Open this door.

Please.

Jason, please.

Please.

Please open the door.

Open up!

Jason!

I'm all right, Momma. It's all gonna be all right.

I don't wanna get your hopes up, all right,

but there is a guy, and I think

he might be the guy. I got his DNA.

Got a lot of it, actually.

They're making the checks as we speak.

He's in jail?

No, but he ain't gonna be hard to find.

Why do you think he's the guy?

I heard him talking about

something he did to a girl last year.

I couldn't hear all of it, but...

It sounded a lot like what happened to Angela.

And then he beat the crap out of me.

But because of that,

I got a bunch of his DNA.

So, I wanted to

let you know sooner rather than later.

I didn't want you to give up hope.

I've been trying not to.

Well... All you can do is try.

As my momma says,

it's not so much about hope as about...

Well, I didn't used to be

very good at English at school.

So it was more "All you can do is try

"to not be so crap at English."

Because you need English, really, if you wanna be a cop.

If you wanna be anything, really.

Unless you live in Mexico or something.

Who wants that?

Hey, Dixon?

Thank you.

You did good, Jason.

You did real good.

But he wasn't the guy.

What?

There was no match to the DNA.

No matches to any other crimes of this nature.

To any crimes at all, in fact.

And his record is clean.

Maybe he was just bragging.

He wasn't just bragging.

Well, that's as may be.

But at the time of Angela's death,

he wasn't even in the country.

Where was he?

I've seen his records of entry and exit to the States,

and spoken to his CO.

He wasn't in the country, Dixon. He ain't our guy.

No, he

might not be our guy,

but he still done something shitty.

I know he did.

Not in Missouri he didn't.

Where was he?

That's classified information.

Oh, come on, man.

If the guy has a commanding officer,

and if the guy got back to the country

nine months ago,

and if the country where he was is classified,

which country do you think he was in?

Hey, you know...

I'll give you a clue.

It was sandy.

That doesn't really narrow it down.

All you need to know is that

he didn't do nothing to Angela Hayes.

So, we're gonna keep looking.

All right?

I found my badge after all.

Hello?

It's Dixon.

Tell me.

He weren't the guy.

Mildred?

Are you sure?

He... He weren't even in the country when it happened.

So, whatever he did, he didn't do it round here.

I'm sorry I got your hopes up.

That's all right. That's all right.

At least I had a day of hoping,

and that's more than I've had for a while.

I gotta go.

There was, uh...

There was one thing I was thinking.

What's that?

I know he ain't your rapist.

He is a rapist, though. I'm sure of that.

What are you saying to me?

Got his license plate.

I know where he lives.

Where's he live?

He lives in Idaho.

That's funny.

I'm driving to Idaho in the morning.

Want some company?

Sure.

- Hey, Dixon? - Yeah?

I need to tell you something.

It was me that burned down the police station.

Why, who the hell else would it have been?

Dixon?

Yeah?

Are you sure about this?

About killing this guy?

Not really. You?

Not really.

I guess we can decide along the way.

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