All language subtitles for Airheads (1994)_track3_[eng]

(DJ) Oh, yeah! That was for all you pinheads too
hip to take off your jackets in the 95° heat.

When the weather gets like this
it brings all you nutbags out...

...and since I am a trouble magnet, I have
one thing to say to you bozos: back off.

Here's the Sons of Thunder from their album
Scrambled Eggs and Wobbly Legs.

This is Ian the Shark on the station with
more hair, more flair, yet so debonair: KPPX.

Rebel Radio-oh-oh-oh-oh!

Hey! Hey! You've gotta check in here!

Get Security on the second floor.
We've got a bogey in elevator one.

It's that guy in the
delivery uniform again.

OK, be wild. Be as wild as you wanna.

If you feel like wetting yourself, go with it,
OK? Anarchy's good. They like anarchy, OK?

- But what are we supposed to say?
- What? Don't say anything.

Jeez, do you wanna blow this? You know
how much these stupid hats set me back?

- Hi.
- Oh, no. Hey, excuse me?

Mike, it's him. The wacko's back.

Yeah, I'm up here in A&R right now.

I'm not goin' anywhere.

Oh, hey, dude.

- Hey, hi. Are you an executive here?
- Yeah.

How you doin'?
My name's Chazz. Chazz Darby.

I'm in this band and we've got this incredibly
sweet demo. I think you should hear it.

I can't take that tape from you.
It's called unsolicited material.

Hey, but this is the real thing, man. This is
rock 'n' roll. None of that gimmicky stuff.

I would love to hear it,
but if it's unsolicited, I can't touch it.

We've been trying to get solicited...

Well, then maybe a gimmick would help.
The cream always rises, OK?

Super-duper. Thanks.

All right, dude. Thanks a lot. Whoa!

You again!
You just can't learn, can you, scumbag?

Take care now.

Here's your tape.

Hey. How was your day?

Oh, Gary is a tremendous asshole.

He had this whole stack of invoices
and he made me arrange them by date.

- He's such a tweaker.
- It sucks.

- Did you mail the rent?
- You, uh... you didn't leave me a stamp.

Well, maybe you could have
gone and bought one.

Ow!

Chazz! What the hell
happened to my make-up?

It fell in the toilet.

Shit! Babe, come on.

- I told you not to leave it on the tank.
- You ruined my make-up, butt!

What's this attitude, Kayla?
Know what I've been through today?

I guess you woke up
when the sun was warm...

...and rode your Harley up and down Melrose
impressing all the 15-year-old girls, right?

I was down at Palatine Records.
That's where I was.

Really? What happened?

I had a meeting with
a big record executive and, uh...

What did he say? Why didn't you tell me?

Well, we talked about solicitation...

...and the guy said he'd snap us up
in a second if it weren't for the lawyers.

- Did he like the tape?
- I was about to give it to him...

...then a security guard showed up
and ruined everything.

(sighs)

- Come on.
- Please.

Hey, it's true. I'm making
really good contacts. I am.

When they hear this song they'll go apeshit.
It's just gonna take time. What's the big deal?

The "big deal" is that I'm doing the bullshit
work and you're living the rock 'n' roll life.

- I wanna live the life, too.
- I'm doing this for us.

Come on, babe. You know that
once I make it you got a free ride.

I'm gonna treat you like gold.

Chazz, it's been months.

Maybe you should get a job.

This is my job. I am trying managers, record
executives, club owners. That's hard work.

You get to sit in a nice office all day
smoking and drinking coffee.

- Oh!
- This is bullshit!

- Oh, my snout.
- You bastard!

I hate you. You are nobody
and you are never gonna be anybody.

You're treating me like I'm a goober
after I wrote this song for you?

You wrote that song before you even met me.

- So?
- So you get out!

Get out now! Get lost!

- OK, OK, OK, OK. Kayla!
- Go!

- Keep going!
- Kayla!

You poser!

I always knew you were a loser!

Everyone warned me!

I hate your music! I always have!

She booted you out again, huh?

What a bitch.

I mean, that that happened.

Hey, she's gonna be jealous
in six months from now...

...when we're on the cover
of Rip magazine lookin' cool.

- Shut up.
- I'm just sayin'.

- Rex.
- What?

I told you to stock the end caps
and mop the employee lounge.

- Too late. I'm outta here.
- I'll tell Covington.

Oh, be quiet.

Hey, Chazz, what's up?

- He's movin' in with us for a while.
- Great! We can rock out after breakfast.

Things are gonna happen to us no matter
what that chimp from Palatine Records says.

You see, that's just it. You think
everything's gonna happen to you.

You gotta make it happen.

How many practices have you missed
cos you're cleaning up some stiff's pool?

Get in the truck, dingus.

I'll be right there.

Man, Chazz is right. All we gotta do
is make our own action, you know?

That's the way it is, little bro.
D'you think Tommy Lee waited for the bus?

Man, he hustled. That's how come
he gets to pork Heather Locklear.

Yeah, well, we got the look, man.
We're gonna be huge.

Yeah, we're almost there.

Chazz says once we get a contract, chicks
with breast implants pick out your clothes.

Cover your mouth.
You're shooting phlegm all over my ass.

Say "gesundheit". I say it for you, man.

Honey, I'm home.

- Hey, Pip, check this out.
- Oh! Oh!

The Incredible Crash Dummies. Whoo!

You must have five-fingered
most of the store by now.

Oh, man. Most of these guns
are discontinued anyway.

Like this Uzi water pistol.
They got rid of it cos it looked too real.

- Yo!
- (baby voice) Mama.

Wow. Now you got yourself
a whole arsenal here.

(electronic siren)

What are you doing?

Pepper sauce. Active ingredient: capsicum.

You blast this in somebody's face
and they're all like "Oh! Oh!"

Some Hollywood Boulevard trash
comes shimmying up the rain pipe...

- Hey!
- Whoa!

(cheering)

Listen up, you lowlifes, what the hell
are we doin' here on a Thursday night?

That's right.

Rock 'n' roll!

OK, we're here to party tonight...

...with our little buddies...

...the Sons of Thunder.

Sons of Thunder? Didn't we blow them off
the stage at Chez Bang six months ago?

So why don't all you little idiots
press your faces up against the speakers...

...and blow your brains out!

Look at this crap. What do we give away
first, hats or hair-care products?

Girls, you wanna get us
a couple of drinks, please?

Ooh, serious bumper.

You wanna punch it up, Ian?
You're as spunky as a corpse.

The Sons of Thunder,
for Christ's sake? Pablum.

- How can you even tell these bands apart?
- I read the trades.

First of all I'd like to say thanks to Ian
and Rebel Radio for playing our single...

...and basically getting us signed.

Is this on?

♪ Don't hate me

Look at them stupid pantaloons.

- That's what we gotta do.
- Looks like they got a load in them pants.

No, they played this song on the radio, and
they got an album. That's what we gotta do.

♪ Your lips are full, your head is empty

♪ This faded Valentine is what you sent me

All we've got to do is get 'em
to play the tape and we're golden.

- This is never gonna work.
- Pip, what is your problem?

Remember that guy Doper Greg?
Remember that guy, man?

He used to blow bong hits in his iguana's
face and make the thing watch cartoons.

- So what? Will you shut up?
- Just get to the point. What?

He won a radio giveaway and when he went
to the station they wouldn't let him in.

It was like this total security building. They
slid his ticket through a slot with salad tongs.

So just because that anus couldn't get in
means that we can't?

If anybody gives us any static,
I shove this in their face.

Agh!

But remember that fat kid
on Hard Copy with a toy gun?

The cop zapped him with a Taser
till he went bald.

Then he sued for a million bucks
when his pubes didn't grow.

He's still got no hair on his balls, man.

(Rex) Go to the back.

(computer game bleeping)

- It's locked.
- Pip, give me your bank card.

- Come on, let's go. I'll get this door open.
- Let's go, let's go, let's go.

Piece of cake. Watch this.

- What's your secret code?
- Huh? What for?

That's how these things work.

- I can't tell you my code.
- Will you tell him the code? And hurry up.

You punch it in, OK?

Please don't look.

- Hey! The thing took my card!
- Oh, shit.

All right. Stand back.

What are you doing, MacGyver?

Open it up. I'm gonna short-circuit it.

- Nah.
- We almost got in. That's too bad. Let's go.

- Hey, Pip, you quitting on us?
- The door's locked.

You flake! You don't care about this band.
You run around all day in your fudgies.

- Not true.
- It is too!

- I always gotta tell you to put pants on.
- He's making this up!

Will you both shut up, please?!
OK. You're brothers, all right?

We haven't lucked out yet. Stay here, Pip.

Agh! You got a big mouth, man!

Hey, Pip.

(screams)

Oh, my God.

Pip. Pip.

Oh, my... Here.

Are you all right? Cos I'm really sorry.
I just came out for a cigarette.

- It's all right. Don't worry about it.
- I'm really sorry. I just came out and bonk!

- Hi.
- Hi.

Suzzi, caller 50 needs some tickets.

Shit. I gotta go. Bye.

Yeah! Sweetness.

Come on.

There we go.

(Ian talking on radio)

You wanna make a change, right? Get serious
about your look at Hair Bomb on Melrose.

- What, Doug?
- Um, here, see. It's all there.

Coloring, razor cuts, popcorn, perms and
weaves. It brings out the rock star in you.

- Well, this is beautiful.
- Well, I try to be a team player.

I may need you to come in tomorrow.

I'm cutting loose some dead weight.
There'll be a lot going on.

Oh, boy.

- What's the problem?
- Well, I've been having a little bit of, uh...

- ...itching on my... It could be hemorrhoids.
- I don't wanna hear that.

I know. It's just that I made
an appointment with my proctologist...

...to get some type of cream or something.

So you're gonna leave me high and dry?
That's a nice team attitude.

Well, I suppose I could
come in for most of Saturday.

- And Sunday.
- Well, yeah, yeah.

Now, when are you planning
on breaking this to everyone?

I thought I'd wait for
exactly the right moment.

I mean, these things require
a certain measure of delicacy.

(♪ Rock intro)

♪ Are you ready

♪ To rumble?

(man) Sunday! Swamp motorcycle racing
at its best.

The USSCA brings you the ultimate
in swamp-race action.

60,000 cubic feet of
muddy slop poured into...

Hey.

We're a band.

Of course. The Partridge Family.
Which one of you is Laurie?

- Get out.
- We came to talk to you about a demo tape.

We were wondering if you could set us up
like you did with the Sons of Thunder.

How did you morons get in?
They've got electronic locks on the doors.

We had to break in.

- This place is sealed up like a dolphin's butt.
- Watertight!

Let me get this straight.

Um...

You guys are an unsigned band...

...and you broke into the radio station
to get your demo played on the air?

- That's about the skinny of it.
- And what sound...

...are you megastars of the future hip to?

What is your musical vibe?

- Well...
- That's a good question.

- We could play anything.
- Not that slap-bass noise. I hate that.

- It's more like a power slop.
- But we don't limit ourselves to labels.

(Chazz) There's always someone who wants to
lump you together with the other buttholes.

This is one of the things
we're struggling against.

- I'm telling you, it is tough.
- This guy knows.

I got booted out of Palatine Records, my
girlfriend kicks me out of the apartment...

Well, I'm sorry.
I'm just trying to conjure up...

...the kind of woman
who would go out with you.

She's not like what you'd think.
She's actually really cool...

...and, well, I guess what it all comes down to
is that we really care about each other and...

...I screwed up. She's been
there for me from the beginning.

I think I let her down,
but I still want us to be tight.

Uh-oh, I think we're busted.

- What did I do now?
- Get these guys out. Are we still on air?

Milo, I get six minutes of talk an hour.
What do you care how I spend them?

Get these morons off the air.
I'm warning you.

- Ease up. Somebody gave you a break once.
- Even though you're a goon.

I say we make this an open forum.
Let's hear the man out.

Go ahead, Conan. Explain to Milo
why we should play your tape.

I'm not pulling pud here.
My entire life force is on this tape...

...and I don't know what else to say.
Come on, man, can you give us a shot?

- How can you say no to that?
- You're on thin ice. You're not untouchable.

- You think you are, but you're not.
- Get out. Without me you have no ratings.

We'll see about that.
Let's go. Out! All you losers.

- Get your hands off me, Jackson.
- You wanna try gettin' physical with me?

Listen, you shaved ape, I could have you
picking up garbage for the rest of the decade.

You wanna get smart with me? Try it.

I will not be pushed around
by Hollywood Boulevard trash like you.

I'm trash?

You think you're better than me? Huh?

- Oops.
- He's got a gun! He's got a gun!

Hey, stop squirming, pussy!

I'll fill your face so full of lead,
you'll be shitting bullets for a week!

- Come on, Rex.
- Shut up.

- Ian, you wanna talk to these fellas?
- What do you suggest?

- Say something. They like you.
- Shut up, dick-smoke!

Chazz, come on.

All right. You would've been cool, but then
this penis had to step in and get heavy.

All we wanna do is to
be heard, and then go.

Believe me, I understand.
Just cool it, huh?

Why don't you cut your losses?
You're in over your head.

Shut your face! Just shut your stupid face!
I know exactly what I'm doing.

That's the problem with you guys. You think
cos you have a big job you know something.

- Wrong! You got Hagar slacks, a pony-nub.
- Bet it ain't even real.

- Ow!
- (Ian) Hey, hey, hey. Just cool it, huh?

Hey, guys, we're all rock 'n' rollers here.

You look like half a butt-puppet that...

Do you know what it's like to be
on the bill, play for 15 minutes...

...and the only people there
are the other bands?

Don't talk to me about rock 'n' roll!
I'm out there in the clubs living it!

I am rock 'n' roll!

It's guys like you and Jimmie Wing
that ruin everything...

- ...for everyone.
- Jimmie, they're talking about you on KPPX.

Come here.

Then you realize there's a million
of these Jimmie Wing bone-smugglers.

These guys are running the industry...

...and they don't know
a damn thing about rock 'n' roll!

OK.

Hello. Police.

I'll tell you what, Mr. Program-Director
Man, you put our goddamn tape on the air.

It's gonna get some airplay or
my man's gonna gank you here and now!

- Shit, yeah.
- Well, let's not go ganking anyone.

- Um, if we play the tape, will you go?
- That's all we need, d-cheese.

Play the thing, Milo. Do what he says.

Play it! What are you waiting for?

- Sorry about all this. Enjoy.
- I can't wait.

We can't play this tape.
We're only set up for CDs and cassettes.

We should've brought a cassette.

A cassette makes my background vocal
sound like someone's stepping on my nuts.

- God. Mr. Perfectionist.
- Quit necking. All we got was a quarter-inch.

There's gotta be a reel-to-reel.
Find it. It's a radio station.

Yeah. That's it there.

Milo, didn't I tell you
to knock when you come in?

Just keep quiet and get that
reel-to-reel deck down to the booth.

Telling me to shut up now? A brother can't
talk without the white man slap him down.

Just do it, Marcus!

Damn.

White man with a gun. Same shit been
happenin' to my people for 425-odd years.

Hey, you like working here, man?

We're down, man. Hendrix was God.

You wanna take a step back?
You're standing on my dick, man!

Yeah, I seen that. Anthrax and Public
Enemy, that was outta control, man.

Together, you know. You catch that one, G?

Don't call me G.

- What do you want me to call you?
- Hey, come on.

All right, that's it.

I can't wait for you to put that gun down,
cos when you do we're gonna throw down.

That's right. We're gonna get serious.
Mano a swine.

Hey, look, just shut
your pie hole and keep working.

Pie hole? That supposed
to be some Cracker slang?

(Rex) Come on, let's go.

Agh!

Ooh! Ooh!

You can't smoke here, babe.

Yeah? What am I doin' now?

You should put it out.
The smoke could damage the equipment.

- Are you ready?
- Almost.

OK, give us a real nice intro.

And don't say anything about us
having a gun to your head.

- OK, who are you guys?
- My name's Pip.

- The band. The band name.
- Sorry about that.

- He doesn't wear a helmet, does he?
- It's right there on the box. Read it.

"The Lone Rangers." That's original.

- How can you pluralize "The Lone Ranger"?
- What's wrong with that?

Well, there's three of you.
You're not exactly lone.

Shouldn't you be The Three Rangers?

I've no idea what you're saying right now.

- You lost me.
- Forget it, Ian. Just play the thing!

Yeah, forget it. Come on, just play it.

Listen up, guppies, Ian the Shark is back
and have I got a surprise for you.

I've got goose bumps, frankly.

For the first time ever,
I'm willing to bet...

...here's that hit single
by The Lone Rangers.

(♪ Rock drumbeat)

(music speeds up)

- Turn it off! Come on, man.
- What did you do? What you doing?

- Tonto must have loaded the tape in wrong.
- Hey, your machine dilapitatled it, man.

Hey!

Oh, what?! Hey! Oh!

- Hey, that's my jacket!
- Put it out!

Please!

- Oh, man. The demo's wasted.
- What are we gonna do now?

Run!

It's the inbreeding.

Go! Go! Go!

- Man.
- How'd they know we were here?

I don't know. I don't know.
OK. Look, maybe they're just on patrol.

All right, we didn't do nothing, right?

- What?
- You go.

You guys suck.

Everything's all right. It's cool.

Let me in! Let me in!

I don't wanna go to jail. I'm fragile.

Go!

Argh!

Shit! We're surrounded.

Why don't we give ourselves up?
We could say we were joking around.

They'll cart us off
before you can say "Rudolph Redpecker".

- Well, you didn't have to break out the gun.
- They wouldn't play the tape.

- You didn't have to do that!
- Shut up.

- You shut up!
- Both of you shut up!

If we go outside, we get roped.
We stay and figure it out.

Excuse me?

- Oh, jeez.
- More people. OK.

We round everyone up, put 'em in the station
and nobody leaves until we figure this out.

What was she on the Clydesdale scale?

Yeah, that's where you gotta figure how many
Clydesdales it'd take to tear her off your face.

Later. Let's go.

I knew from looking at him
that he was a bomb about to go off.

A big fat media bomb!

They're gonna be all over the news now.

Time magazine, Larry King Live.

If the song's in English,
it's a gold record.

Come on, come on, let's go.

Hi again.

Hi.

Hey, hey, you guys think
you're gonna waste anybody?

Cos if you are, pop Milo first.
That guy's a bozo de luxe.

Uh-huh? Go.

(clattering)

Perhaps it won't be long
until this thing blows over.

Argh!

Argh!

All right, everybody on
the floor right now.

Do you mind if I sit in a chair?
I don't wanna get all cruddy.

- Uh, yeah.
- Thank you.

If she doesn't sit on the floor,
I don't know why I have to.

You heard the man.
Hit the deck or I smoke you.

Sit down on the floor now! Everybody else
gets to sit in a chair except for you.

Are we... are we still on the air?

- Have you made contact?
- No. One guy came out, but he went back in.

Have Dispatch give us their number.
Let's call them.

- You getting this, Wilson?
- Establish contact, ensure it's no false alarm.

I know the procedure.

- Could I get something to eat, man?
- You hungry, buddy?

Hey, Chazz. Chazz.

What?

- Why is everyone staring at me?
- That guy says he's hungry.

Who gives a shit?!
I'm trying to think here, OK?

(rings)

KPPX, where the action never stops.

Oh, hi.

Well, there's three psychotic musicians
with guns. How would you feel?

I have no idea.

The leader? Hold on.

It's the police.

They wanna talk to you.

He doesn't wanna talk.

What am I supposed to do, beg him?
What are you doing to get us out of here?

OK, fine.

He wants you to go out and talk to him.

Bag that. What for?

He wants to know your demands
for releasing the hostages.

- Oh, my God!
- Demands? What's he mean by "hostages"?

I've got a reality check for you, curly.
What you're doing is a felony, maybe worse.

- What are your demands?
- Nothing. I just don't wanna go outside.

OK. Come here, come here.

- What do we need?
- A hockey stick up the backside of his head.

I'm warning you. Don't bring Chazz down!

Thank you, Rex.

All right. Now, what do we want?

Uh, Chazz?

I like your hair.

- What's that?
- My name's Suzzi, with two z's.

- Oh, hi.
- Hi.

So you, like, answer the phones
and all that stuff?

Mm-hm. Yeah, for, like, six hours a day.

Oh, what a drag, huh?

I understand you're trying to make a
statement, but this is getting out of hand.

Hey, come on, you know where
I'm coming from. Be a sport, will ya?

All right, but can we move this along?
Now, why did you come here?

I came here for a lousy three minutes
and 31 seconds of airplay. That's it.

Fine. Now there's cops outside with guns,
and you're holding people hostage, right?

- Uh, yeah.
- On top of that, your tape is destroyed.

So, there's only one thing that you can do.

Get the other copy of the demo.

Yeah!

Rex!

(rock music)

Bastard!

(Chazz and Kayla) You called on the phone,
but we're not at home.

(Chazz) Leave a message for Chazz. We'll
call you back soon, so don't have a spaz!

(answering machine beeps)

Come on, come on.
Stay back now! Back there!

Hold it! Hold it!

I want you to control this crowd.

If they give you any trouble,
cuff 'em and throw 'em in the squad car.

Technically I can't do that, Sergeant.
The Civilian Review...

I know what the Civilian Review Committee
says, but they're not doing crowd control.

Listen, when you're in the line of fire you
do what's necessary to get the job done.

You don't break the law but occasionally you
bend it. When that time comes, improvise.

Yes, sir.

Cover me.

(crowd whistles and cheers)

Get your hands up over your head.
Get down on the pavement! Get down!

- What the f...
- Sergeant.

What?

You men, back off. Get back,
goddammit! Put those guns down!

It's OK. You can get up when...
Goddammit, get back!

What the hell is this?
You invited me to come out!

You surprised us. I'm Sergeant O'Malley.
I'm here to work with you.

- What's your name?
- My rhythm section's watching me!

Nobody's gonna hurt you. Everybody OK?

- They're all fine. My name's Chazz.
- Great. It's good to meet you, Chazz.

Tell me what I can do
to get you to end this.

- You gotta find my tape.
- Sure. OK. What kind of tape is it?

It's a demo tape. We wanna
play it on the air.

You wanna play this tape on the radio,
then you'll come out?

Right. The machine inside ate the original.
My girlfriend's got the only other copy.

- Give me her number. I'll call her.
- I already tried that. She's off for the night.

- You're gonna have to find her.
- Where is she?

I don't know. Try the Strip somewhere.
Maybe The Whisky.

She's...

She's totally pissed at me, but...

Is that her? She's a... real looker.

Yeah.

Why don't black people like me?

- Excuse me?
- It's just that I listen to a lot of rap music...

...and I know how angry black people are.

And I feel bad for all you guys
gotta put up with.

Well, that's very nice of you.

How about when you go into a store
and all the clerks start starin' at you...

...like you're gonna rob the place and
you're like "I just wanna buy something"?

That's never happened.
Does that happen to you?

Ah, no, but I'm just saying
that would be bad if it did.

Look at Chazz doing his thing.

Listen, Chazz...

...this is gonna take some time, OK?

You have to send out one of the hostages just
as a sign of good faith. That's my rules.

All right, fine. You have
your orders, Chief. Now get cracking.

- (screams)
- (cheering)

It's more like power slop but with an edge.

OK. The cops are going to get Kayla.

I cut a deal with them.
We've gotta send one person out.

Please.

I'll go.

- A hostage, doof.
- Sorry.

But not me, man. It's just too cool.

Why don't we let Yvonne go, man?
She's very nice.

Wait a minute. I don't see why you
automatically have to choose a woman.

Well, it's kind of sexist, don't you think?

I mean, we could draw straws.

- We could...
- OK.

Yvonne, go. You'll be home
in time for The Simpsons.

(Marcus) Stay strong, sister.

(Pip) Congratulations.

Hey, butterball, I think you're exceeding
the maximum weight limit for that belt.

(O'Malley) Wilson, get over here!

I'm sending out a sweep of Sunset Strip for the
girlfriend. I want you there to supervise.

Whoa.

Oh, God. Oh, God.

Oh, God. Oh, God.

(motor starts)

Argh!

- Whoa, look, we got fans.
- I didn't know that many people knew us.

- (cheering)
- Hey, hold this. Thanks.

Hey!

- I'm gonna miss Yvonne.
- Let me tell you something.

Don't chitchat with them.
They're not buddies. They're hostages.

I was trying to be nice.

I know, but then every time you tell
somebody to get on the floor...

...they're gonna be like "Even me, Pip?
I thought we had something going."

You gotta scare these people.
Practice. Just try it.

I just feel a little goofy trying
to be a badass with a water pistol.

They don't know that. They think it's real.
Now show me what you got. Come on.

OK. Get over there, please. Thank you.

What are you, a crack baby?
Give me that. I'll show you.

All right.

Hey, you! You shut your mouth,
you bastard...

...or I'll stab your eyeballs out
and piss all over your brain!

It's gonna be a slaughterhouse, with bodies
flying through the air like dolls on fire!

Oh, my God.

- OK?
- OK, all right. Thank you.

- All right, against the wall.
- Come on, tough, tough!

- Seriously, move it.
- I'm not scared, Pip. Come on.

- I'm gonna stab your heads off.
- With what? With what?

- With my dick!
- Yeah!

Yeah! Blood's gonna come
out of your head...

...and there's nothing you can do
about it cos I'm a madman!

- That's good.
- It kinda hurt my throat.

Come on, come on, move, move.

Shit! Here comes the cavalry.

So she boots me out of my own house
and now I'm at the motor lodge.

12 years of marriage and devotion
down the tubes.

- Hello, O'Malley.
- They called you too soon. It's solved itself.

Good, cos I'm taking over the interior
perimeter. You and your boys can fall back.

Like hell you are. Didn't you hear?
We don't have a situation.

Well, what do you call
an office full of hostages?

Mace, I'm in the middle of negotiations...

...and until I decide there are no options,
you don't use force.

Well, OK, O'Malley.

It's your show.

- (woman) Hello?
- Hello.

- May I help you, sir?
- Hello.

Please could you put me through to someone
on the scene. I don't have much time.

Oh, Christ.

Looks like you got your hands full,
Mr. Hostage Negotiator.

Let's go.

I want those media people back.
Come on! Move it! Get it back!

- Dispatch has another call from inside.
- Swell.

Listen, you sick sack of swill,
if you hurt one single...

- I don't have much time.
- What? Who is this?

Doug Beech. I work at the radio station.

- Speak up, Beech. Are they molesting you?
- No, I'm hiding in the air-cooling system.

They don't know that I'm here.

I want you to do something
but I can't let you put yourself at risk.

- What?
- You got any kind of training?

- I was in the merchant marines.
- Yeah, I copy that.

- Get them away from the van.
- I was an accountant.

Nah, you won't be held accountable.

Listen, I want you to be my man inside.

This is what I want you to do, Beech. I
want you to check in with me periodically.

I want you to talk to me directly
and me only. I have a number for you.

Check it out. Come on in.

- I'm gonna clip us some Cs, dude.
- Sweet.

We've got these guys by the short curlies.
We could demand free stuff from the cops.

What am I talking about? There's
probably cool stuff here. Play track two.

As long as we're here
let's hear decent jams.

(♪ "I'm the One" by 4 Non Blondes)

Oh, yeah! This is the real Rebel Radio.

The voice of the resistance:
this is Chazz speaking. Yo!

Shit, man, you guys oughta to have fun.

You can't cuss on the air.

Hey, look at all the stuff we found.
There's $5,000 worth of backstage passes.

- You guys scored.
- Can I bogart one of these?

You've gotta see this. We've got CDs,
we've got T-shirts, we've got...

Oh, what have we here?

Those sound like concert tickets to me.
What do you say we take a few calls?

- You're on the air.
- (feedback)

Ooh, let's turn down your radio, asshole.

I'm sorry. I wanna talk
to the guy with the gun.

I just said you're on the air,
numbnuts. So talk already.

I want some tickets to that show with
Penelope Lovestocking and Crimson Shroud.

Oh, man, you actually listen
to that Seattle bullshit?

- Shroud rips, dude.
- All right, bro, no problem.

You gotta come down because
we've got free tickets to give away...

...but we are completely surrounded by
cops. We need some feedback here. Go.

- You're on the air.
- Whoa, am I on the air?

- Come on, Butt-head, give me the phone.
- Am I speaking English, dipshit?

- Come on, Butt-head! No way.
- Shut up, Beavis.

- So what do you guys want?
- You guys are, like, The Lone Rangers, right?

- Yeah.
- We saw you at The Wheel Well last month.

- You suck.
- Come down here and say that, you punks!

- Yeah, you can kiss my ass.
- Why don't you make the chicks get naked?

(Ian) Usual crop of retards.

Hey, guys, you're on TV.

A band of failed musicians lashing out
at the society that won't listen to them.

Their target, the only capitalist edifice
their MTV-soaked minds recognize:

- a rock 'n' roll radio station.
- Oh, man. This is complete bullshit.

...and I quote: "White urban males
are the least likely to elicit tears...

...from a city already beleaguered
by people with real problems."

- The mayor is on holiday...
- I'd like to croak that bitch.

(klaxon)

Mace, we have contact with the man inside.

- Beech, is that you?
- They've got six hostages.

- It's three weirdos with Uzis.
- Outstanding, Beech.

You just keep your eyes open
and your tail down.

Have you got any personnel at home
you want me to call, like a wife?

No, no, I don't even have a home.
I've got a condo.

Listen, I guess I've just tried
to wait to meet the right woman.

I guess I should have waited longer myself.
Let me tell you about the shrew I married.

I used to come home tired every night,
sometimes five or six in the morning.

I dropped my underwear
on the floor one time...

...had a teeny-weeny little skid mark in it.
You'd have thought I started World War Nine.

- There you go.
- Thank you.

You've really great arms.
You should show them off.

(Ian) How does he do that?

Pip? He gets his hands
on more bumper than a body shop.

With that "I seem so stupid
I must be cute" routine?

That's the quiet cool.
Chicks, man, they just flock on it.

Man, you got hot CDs here and I never hear
them. Why don't you ever play these guys?

That's Milo's call. Why don't we play 'em?

If they're so hot, how come
they're not tearing up the charts, babe?

Cos you never play 'em, babe. You suck.

- What do you think, Ian?
- To tell you the truth, I stick to the classics.

Rock 'n' roll's been all downhill
since Lennon died.

My whole life, people have been cramming
this classic-rock crap down my throat.

Think I give a shit about the Beatles?

No offense, but today's music
doesn't have a whole lot to say.

Is that right? So you're gonna tell me
that "Purple Haze" says something?

Hey, Ian, man, wait till
you hear our stuff. We kick ass.

Swell. Yeah, I can't wait
to hear your brilliant song.

Beats the shit out of the fruity music
you listen to, tough guy.

He's got himself a whole crate of
Kenny G CDs and you're talking trash?

A crate of CDs?

He's got a stockpile of easy-listening
shit-shingles in his office.

You don't even listen to music. What
are you doing with a whole crate of CDs?

Those are free promos.
I use 'em as stocking stuffers.

It's the middle of July!

Aloha out there in radio land.
This is Oedipus Rex on WKPP-Rex...

...comin' at ya,
smooth-talking DJ terrorist.

These guys rule.
You're gonna hear some new shit.

(heavy metal music)

There's a box of that crap right there.

Yeah, dude.

Blonde, wearing something tight and black.

Great. Grand. Wonderful.

(♪ "Feed the Gods")

Come on, fellas. Let's
put a sock in it, OK?

What the hell are these?

They're shorts, Ian.
You know, pants with little legs?

And this?

Hey, I don't have
to explain myself to you, man.

- Come here.
- What? I'm right here.

Speak to me. What's goin' down?

OK, um...

We're changing formats.

Sunday at midnight
the station goes soft rock.

- Rebel Radio's goin' soft?
- We're changing our name to The Rain.

You know, "Relax to the mellow
sounds of The Rain on KPPX."

That, and we're being forced to re-staff.

- You pud!
- All those blow jobs for nothing.

You're firing me, you little
snake-in-the-grass bastard?

Where do you get the balls to fire me?

This was handed down from above, Ian!
I fought this kicking and screaming!

You've just begun to kick and scream,
you sniveling putz. I'll kill you!

- Agh!
- A fight!

- Yeah!
- Ooh! Ow, my spine!

You're Kayla!

I need to talk to you about Chazz Darby.

If Chazz needs any bail money,
you can just tell him to forget it.

Look, there's a situation down at Rebel
Radio. I'm gonna need to take you in.

Look, Chazz says you've got a tape.

Please!

Hey, check out Barney Fife.

Don't you think you're
out of your league, chunk-style?

Look, I don't wanna have
to bring you boys in on a 148.

That's obstruction.

Now what are you gonna do about that?

Ow!

Improvise.

So she says to me "He was only
cleaning the pool filter, Sniggles."

And I'm thinking to myself "It's 7 PM, he's
in dungarees and his equipment is bone-dry."

Pool filter, my ass!

Thing is, she could have left me for a
plastic surgeon, but a lousy pool cleaner?!

(Chazz) Kayla, if you're listening,
I really need that demo tape.

You gotta get it to the station.

Dammit.

Shoo, dog. Oh, shoo!

Ugh.

Now stay.

Uh, 67 copies of Moby-Dick.

- The movie or the book?
- They made a book out of that?

- Yeah, I think so.
- Yeah, get the book.

- What are you guys doing?
- We're taking the cops up on those demands.

- We've got a killer list.
- Yeah. We ask for airplay and whatever else...

...then we demand a bunch of weird stuff
so we can plead insanity later.

- Where did this come from?
- Pip's idea.

Way to go, Pip.

You guys are crazy, man.

You're all whoo-hoo and shit.

- So, what else we got so far?
- Number one: airplay, underlined twice.

Number two:
a helmet filled with cottage cheese.

Number three: a Zon walnut bass
with a graphite neck.

- Thank you.
- Hey! What about me?

- Go for broke. It's on the LAPD.
- Oh.

- I want a PRS Guitar with the dragon inlay.
- (Pip) Nice.

I'm coming, you bastard.

Number 13: naked pictures of Bea Arthur.

- Excuse me?
- The chick from The Golden Girls.

Look, I know who she is. I'm just a street
cop. How am I supposed to find all this stuff?

A giant baby bottle? Give me a break.

You better figure it out,
or it's curtains for everyone.

Oh yeah, and we want a record contract, so
let's get some record executive here pronto.

- What?
- Why'd you ask for a record contract?

- That's what we want.
- You don't demand one from the cops.

It's gotta come unsolicited.

- What's unsolicited?
- Forget it. Just forget it.

What did I do? I'm just yankin' the guy.

It's one thing to goof around but we do have
a serious agenda here. Are you with that?

- Yeah, I'm with that.
- Good.

Moody.

(♪ "Rocks" by Primal Scream)

Pip?

What are you thinking about?

Swimming pools.

- Swimming pools, huh?
- Yeah. I wish I was in one right now.

The water's all clear and cool,
and you spin around in there like an egg.

Do you have a girlfriend?

Mm-mm.

No?

It's kind of weird us
meeting like this, huh?

I don't know.

- We got that background check in.
- Yeah, let me see this.

"Chazz Darby, born Jerkwater, Iowa.
Real name: Chester Ogilvie."

DMV says his occupation
is master of ceremonies.

- Arrests?
- Just two tickets for helmet violation.

Just another small-town punk
comin' out west to be a star.

- Anything else?
- Yeah. The local PD just faxed us his picture.

Chester.

I'm giving you the same rate
as everybody else.

I know it's steep, but think
how many people will listen.

This is primo advertising.

Yo, scumbag,
are you selling ads on our airtime?

Hold on a second, Brad.

D'you mind? I've got a station to run here.

Yeah, I'm back. If the cops kill him before
the spot runs, you'll get a complete refund.

Oh! Uh, Brad.

You just hung up on an important man.

Agh!

(moaning and giggling)

Oh.

Help.

D'you find anything in that van? Drugs?

Nah, just some toys and
a bunch of pool-cleaning gear.

Pool-cleaning gear?
Give me that damn phone.

What? A gun!

Affirmative. These cowboys
are more dangerous than I thought.

Work your way up the vent ducts to the
roof. Two of my men will meet you there.

- Yeah, but a gun?
- Mace out.

Can I ask you something?
What's with you guys and these tattoos?

Check it out. I got this barbed wire here.

A gecko. And this one is so cool.

It's, uh... the Grim Reaper. See?

I'm gonna get some more cash and probably
color it in or put some chaps on it.

You know, I can understand "Mom"
or "I Heart Wanda", but why the Reaper?

Well, it's like death is stalking me...

...and it's telling me I better get
off my ass and get this band rolling.

This is for real. I gotta cut a record.

I figure I'm screwed up enough that I could
write a song that'll live on for ever...

...and then after that it don't matter.

You know?

OK, kiddies, listen up because this is
Ian the Shark's final night at KPPX.

Special unscheduled announcement:
effective Monday, this station goes...

...easy listening.

- (booing)
- We're having a big farewell party tonight...

...so come on down!

As part of our final hurrah
we have a special segment:

"Getting To Know Your Armed Assailant."

Now we have Chazz Darby here.

Now, Chazz, you say
all you wanna do is be heard.

Well, you've got the whole world listening.
What have you got to say?

Well, I guess all we have to say
is that we wanna be heard.

Yeah, well, we've kind of
established that. What else?

Um...

Hey, man, you can't
be putting me on the spot.

You want him to make a speech?
Who does he look like, Sting?

OK, you've sold out the Forum, you're
standing in front of 20,000 screaming fans.

- What are you gonna say to 'em?
- I'm gonna say...

...rock 'n' roll!

(cheering)

Warp speed, Mr. Sulu!

Yeah.

That's it? You'll scream "Rock 'n' roll"?
You're gonna go to jail for that?

There's a saying, Milo:
"If it's too loud, you're too old."

(heavy metal music)

- Where are you goin'?
- You mind if I take a pee, man?

Good luck.

Don't forget to shake.

Milo.

What are you doing, you little buttnut?

(Marcus) Milo, Milo, Milo.

Milo!

- Open the door, Milo.
- Quiet.

I said open the door, Milo.

(screams)

- What was that?
- I don't know.

- Don't yell at me, Milo.
- You're screwing on a $1,400 leather couch!

You're so rude! You don't just
burst in here without knocking.

- If there is one stain on that couch...
- You'll what?

Fire me? Well, guess what? I quit!

Oh, don't. I don't want you to lose your
job over this. Milo, this was my bust.

- A screamfest... Oh, Pip.
- Get your filthy shoes off my furniture!

- Suzzi, you can leave right now.
- No, I can't, because I'm a hostage...

...and Pip is my...

Pip is my man with a gun.

- And he says I get to stay. Right, Pip?
- Sorry, dude.

Pip, put the monster away.

Oh, now what?

- All right, everybody back to the booth.
- Argh!

Oh, please, no. Don't do this. I can't
take it, man. My aunt was buried alive!

- Give it a rest.
- Not in the closet!

- What are they doing?
- Messin' with our heads.

- (knocking)
- (man) Chazz! Chazz. Guys.

- Hey, Chazz, let me in.
- Keep an eye on him, Pip.

Chazz. Hey, guys. Chazz, let me in.

- Who are you?
- Chris Moore, Capitol Records. Let me in.

- I told you, man. Things are going our way.
- Take a few steps back from the door!

And toss me some ID.

- OK, here.
- How'd you find us?

The cops told me you're looking for a record
contract. We've gotta take advantage of this.

- Yeah, what's that?
- Will you look? This is hot.

- You're the hottest thing since Marky Mark.
- Marky Mark! That guy sucks.

OK, forget him.
There's magic here. Let's talk contracts.

I promise you, someday we're gonna be
backstage at the Forum laughing about this.

All right, what side did you take
in the big David Lee Roth-Van Halen split?

- What?
- What a question.

- What side did you take? Halen or Roth?
- Van Halen.

- He's a cop.
- Later, bacon.

Strictly a judgment call. They sold a lot of
records after David left. One more question.

Right, right, right. Who'd win
in a wrestling match, Lemmy or God?

- Lemmy.
- Ah!

- God.
- Wrong. Trick question. Lemmy is God.

- Oh, come on.
- Get the hell out of here!

Get out of here! Get out of here!

What the hell is this, O'Malley?
Now you bring in a cop to try to kill me?

Is that it? I'm not going nowhere, pal!

- You put the power back on.
- You're stirring the crowd up.

I got free concert tickets here!

For me and you and you...

What the hell is going on? Get those
people outta here! Get 'em outta here!

I love a parade!

Hey, man, check out all that poony! We could
parley this into a hummer! They love us!

Yeah, they love us.

- You put the power back on!
- No, I won't, Chazz. I'm drawin' the line there!

- Yo, is everyone havin' a good time tonight?
- (crowd) Yeah!

- Wanna see the cops shut this party down?
- (booing)

So they got the cards. We got the numbers!

Rodney King! Rodney King!

(crowd chants) Rodney King. Rodney King.

Holy shit!

Rodney King?
What's that supposed to mean?

He's that guy.

Rodney King!

All right, dammit!
Turn the goddamn power back on!

Chazz! Chazz!

Kayla! I tried to call you.
I'm sorry, it was my fault.

No, I was being a bitch.

Why don't you give it up, Chester?
You can talk it over later.

- Stay out of this and get your hands off her!
- Why did he call you that?

- Uh...
- There's a lot Chester didn't tell you about.

- What's he talking about, Chazz?
- It's, uh... He's, uh...

Ah, shi... You, man...
Kayla, there's something I gotta tell you.

What?

Um...

- I was a geek in school.
- (surprised murmurs)

I had really short hair.

I played Dungeons and Dragons.

- I had a bug collection. I ate my boogers.
- (crowd) Ugh!

My name's not Chazz.

It's Chester.

And I understand if
you don't love me any more.

I play D&D, too!

I was editor of the school magazine.

(crowd) Yeah!

- I used to wear corduroy pants.
- (murmurs of approval)

I used to masturbate... constantly.

- We're with you, Chazz.
- I want your body!

Hey, Chazz! Chazz!

(crowd chants "Chazz")

Whoo!

(booing)

OK, this is my girlfriend Kayla.
She brought the tape.

- About time.
- What's happening?

We're going on the air, Pip.
We're going live!

Oh, whoa. What happened to this?

It fell off the nightstand.

What did you do to my tape?
Can we even play this?

Maybe if I clean it up
and re-spool it. Christ!

- I came all the way down here just to bring it!
- And you took real good care of it, Yoko!

OK, everybody, shut up!

Chazz, I have been with you...
almost as long as these two assholes!

I think it's about time
they treated me with a little respect!

This thing smells like piss, man.

Kayla, I don't have time for this noise. Did
you come to bitch at Rex or to help us out?

Cos you're being a complete...

I can't believe this, after
all I've done for you!

And then you chew me out
in front of your friends!

- You're acting like a spaz!
- Well, what about you?

You go and pull this moron stunt.

If you would just think for one second
instead of trying to be little glory boy.

- Is that so, huh?
- Yeah, that's so, Chester.

You're outta here.

- What?
- Get outta here! Get lost, all right?

I got a million things to think about,
I don't need you, too.

I'm a part of this. You wrote
that song for me. That's my song!

I wrote that song before I even met you.

You'd better go about your business.

Go about your business.

- Nobody look at me!
- (all scream)

- My Christ! What are you doing?
- You don't even care.

You don't even care what happens to me!

What have I got? My guitar, my bike and
my woman. That's all I got in the world.

And you keep kicking me out!
It's making me insane!

I figure if I get a record contract, I can
make it up to you. I'm doing this for you!

I suppose now you're gonna say you love me.

Come on! I'm holding a gun to a guy's head
just so the whole world can hear your song.

Is that love or what?

Tell me.

- What do you want from me?
- Tell me.

All right.

- I love you.
- Oh, my God.

What else can I say?

Oh, God!

Oh! Dammit!

Well, that fried out most of the board.

- Great.
- Shit!

Goddamn.

(cheering and shouting)

Hey, guys, bring in the stuff.

Yeah!

I can't believe
they actually found all this crap.

I don't know. Maybe we didn't
make the demands weird enough, huh?

Man, these are my people.

Hey, hey, we're partyin' in here. Whoo!
We got all kinds of beer.

Am I rockin' or what?

Shit.

(stutters)

Die, dog!

It's a plastic gun!

Oh, my eyes!

It's a plastic gun!

A plastic gun?!

Did you hear that?
It's a plastic gun. We're moving in.

Everybody get back to the booth!

Hold it!

Don't anybody move!

Now back up against the wall
and put your hands above your heads.

(screaming)

- It's a real gun!
- (officer) Fall back behind the barriers.

God help us all!

It's all right, Chazz.
Stay calm. We're pulling back.

(crowd chants) Body count! Body count!

Everybody get back to the booth!
Get back! Hurry up!

- Move it, move it, move it.
- Cockroach.

Argh!

(rings)

- Hello.
- Yes, hello. Put the pig on!

- Chazz, is everybody OK?
- What the hell was that bullshit?

- I'm gonna grease somebody in here, I swear!
- Chazz, don't do anything crazy.

- What was all that firing?
- You tell me. You've got guys in the ceiling!

Calm down. We don't have anybody
trying to break in. I wouldn't do that.

OK, if this bullshit happens again,
I'm gonna start blasting!

You have my word.
How long before you play your tape?

Uh, how long?

Uh, we're workin' on it.
I don't know, pretty soon.

I'll have a record executive
for you here soon.

Now, you know my rules. How about sending
out another hostage just as a sign...

- That guy in the ceiling, what was that?
- He says he doesn't know.

- Man, back there, that was huge. Thanks.
- Rock 'n' roll.

Whoo. OK, who's got a Tic Tac?

(honking)

(Jimmie) Hello there, boys.

Hi, Chazz. Jimmie Wing. Remember me?

I wanted to get in touch with you,
but you didn't leave me your phone number.

Yeah. Well, I figured you'd come around.

This is the chimp from Palatine?
I told you, man. We scored.

- Hi there. Jimmie Wing.
- Hi. How are you?

Bea Arthur. Outstanding.

Can you believe it? A record exec came
all the way down here to meet you guys.

- You have to be careful.
- Jimmie!

Entertainment executives
make their living screwing people.

- Got a proposition for you.
- Oh, shit.

I know you think I'm a dick... cheese... burger,
or whatever, but you need a negotiator.

I will offer my services for 10%
of the pretax gross. That's standard.

Shine on that, Chazz. It ain't worth it.

Think about it.
These things can be very tricky.

He's right. My ex-boyfriend Parker was
a model, and one time they stole his shoes.

- He hasn't even heard the demo yet.
- Well, if he likes it, I'd like to help.

What do you think, Ian?

No, he's right. But make that 5%, Milo,
you scum-sucking weasel.

OK, done.

- Untie me.
- You're doing so good, babe.

(knocking)

Now what?

Hey, Rex. Rex, it's me. Rex!

- That surfer guy wants to come back inside.
- What? Will you tell that guy to piss off?

Guys! Guys!

- Hey, no dice, man. Get outta here.
- Oh, come on, Rex.

- I won't try anything.
- You shouldn't have escaped then.

Come on, bro. I was havin' a blast!

Come on, Rex. Rex!

I wanna get a drum set
that goes underwater...

...so in the middle of our show they can
dunk me in a tank and I can do my solo.

Cool!

I'm gonna get a leather jumpsuit
with the crotch cut out.

Rex, can you set up the sound system
so Jimmie Wing can hear the tape?

- I'm just... I gotta...
- Yeah, go ahead.

Hey, Rex, man. We're gonna go to jail, huh?

Small price to pay to be a legend.
Remember when Ozzy pissed on the Alamo...

...and was banned
from San Antonio for a decade?

Did his time, went back, rocked the place.

Section G, the force majeure, where it says
"riots, disturbance, war, acts of God", etc.

- What about it?
- Amend that to exclude this hostage crisis.

That can be construed as
an act of public enemy.

- Done.
- Where's the tape deck?

Oh, why? We need that, too?

- Let me see your arm.
- Why?

- Ow!
- Get it, retard.

(♪ "Unsatisfied" by The Replacements)

- The board's fried. I can't fix it.
- Oh!

- No, Ian. Come on, man, you gotta help me.
- There's nothing more that I can do.

- This is it, babe.
- All set, Chazz.

- Here we go, my man.
- This is so exciting!

- Oh, my God. Here it is.
- (Rex) All right.

- Record contract?
- Uh-huh.

We got a record contract!

Everything's square. Just autograph it on
the last page and you got yourself a deal.

Hah! We got a contract!

(Rex) We got a contract!

We made it, babe. We made it.

- Stop!
- Hey, man, what are you doing?

Hey, bro, we got signed.

- Are you crapping me?
- Didn't you play the song for him?

No. We didn't hook this thing up yet.

- So you two haven't heard the demo?
- I heard it on the radio earlier.

You heard it for about five seconds
and then it got ate.

Well, Chazz, my man...

...it's not just the music, it's the way
you talk about it. You have such passion.

- Whoa, whoa. What am I hearing?
- What's wrong, man?

No deal. No.

What are you talking about?

No deal! Yesterday he kicks me
out of Palatine Records...

...and today he has a record contract for me to
sign. He hasn't even heard my tape. No deal!

- But this is what you wanted!
- Wanna know what I think of your contract?

Allow me to demonstrate.

He wipes his ass with his record contract.

- I love this guy.
- But we still have a deal, right?

I wanna be a rock star someday
but on my own terms.

Well, I got some news for you, big guy.
You already are a star.

You can't buy this kind of media exposure.

We are sitting on a gold mine here.

I am offering a long-term contract to get your
music out to millions, plus a whole lot more.

Like what "a whole lot more"?

Ever since you signed this contract you've
been under the umbrella of Palatine Records.

We have an army of attorneys
looking out for all our investments.

Chazz...

...rock stars don't go to jail. Christ.

Vince Neil only got 30 days
and he killed somebody.

Hey, buddy, you swear you can get us off?

I swear, if you guys play ball.
That's what I'm here for.

Chazz, let's just play the tape on air.
They'll throw deals at us.

- Can't do that, man. Console's busted.
- (Rex sighs)

It's this or nothing.

OK. Super-duper.

We're making records.

- What about the song? How we gonna play...
- Ah.

I'm already ahead of you.

Officer O'Malley. Jimmie Wing.

What are you doing sending me in
with these animals? They're out of control.

Yes. Yes.

They have some more demands.

(helicopter approaching)

We're gonna soon witness the culmination
of this extraordinary rock 'n' roll drama:

a live performance by The Lone Rangers.

Wait a minute. That can't be right.
You can't pluralize "Lone Ranger".

Get the guy who did the
Guns N' Roses video.

- Try for John Landis.
- Landis is huge.

This is great.

This is a major media event. We have lights,
crowds... We are gonna bury Lollapalooza!

- I said no!
- Look at the boots they gave me. Excuse me.

- How is this? I feel kinda goofy.
- You look like an idiot.

Remember, this only works if you still
have the hostages. OK, Kayla? Guns up.

Hey, what about me?

(cheering)

Oh, yeah!

(woman in crowd) I love you, Chazz!

(Chazz whoops)

This is a soggy dream come true!

This is rockin'. Yeah!

- All right!
- Whoo!

Let's give it to 'em.

Oh, yeah.

Hey, man.

- What?! It's not turned on.
- They ain't givin' us no juice.

The amps are props. We'll play your tape
through the PA system and you pantomime.

- What, are you yankin' me?
- If you don't do it this way...

...we won't be able to sync it up in post.
OK, Rex, lift up the gun so they can see it.

- I ain't lip-syncing, man.
- It's a video. People always lip-sync.

- Oh, come on, this is bullshit.
- That's all we are to you, some freak show?

For all you care our album
could be Pip farting on a snare drum.

- Guys!
- I ain't fartin' on no snare drum.

If you guys don't do it,
we don't have a deal.

Me, and the lawyers from Palatine Records,
we walk. Now do you get that?

All right. Come here.

Come here. We can't do that.
Don't make us be lame.

OK. Roll tape.

Listen, dirthead,
shut your mouth and do what you're told.

(drumbeat)

What are you doing? We're filming.

Play, you little maggot.

Jimmie, get out of there.
You're ruining my shot.

Listen, I own you! I own you!

Oh, yeah! You can't see nothin'
from back there, you filthy scumbags!

Come on down!

Come on! Let's go!

Holy shit!

- Back it up!
- Just get outta the way. Let 'em go.

It's total anarchy!

- Whoo!
- Check it out, man. They dig our song.

All right! Rock 'n' roll!

♪ What's Johnny doin' out
on a Tuesday night?

♪ Johnny can't read, Johnny can't write

♪ Kids just don't understand

♪ Johnny don't care about the world

♪ As long as he can do his girl

♪ And prove that he's a man

♪ Degenerated

♪ Degenerated

♪ And our minds are

♪ Vegetated

♪ Degenerated

- ♪ Degenerated...
- Rex!

What are you doin', man?

♪ Degenerated

♪ Degenerated

We start touring in six months.

Well, three months
if they behave themselves.

♪ Degenerate, degenerate

♪ Degenerate, degenerate

Ow!