don't let the cat out.
nah.
i thought you were still buying quarters off simon. least what simon pretends are quarters.
at that level you're supposed to pinch. it's the economics of it.
you leaving?
be good.
i take it this is not a social call.
a favor? wow. i didn't know we were such good friends, ronna. because if we were, you would know i give head before i give favors. i don't even give my best friends head, so the chance of your getting a favor right now are pretty fucking slim. you might try just telling me what you want to buy.
you come here out of the blue asking for twenty hits. just so happens twenty is the magic number where intent to sell becomes trafficking.
how would you fuck me? would you strap it on?
what's the occasion?
friends of yours. you're not going to go and try to sell this on me, are you?
you're not dealing.
this is the real thing. pharmaceutical grade, not that crunchy herbal rave shit. don't let anyone double dose or you'll be frying eggs off `em in the emergency room. one hit per headbanger.
twenty at fifteen is 300.
you already did strap it on.
inflation's a bitch.
see, that would be doing you a favor, and you know how i feel about favors.
i already got a fucking swatch. i need something i know you'll come back for.
speak!. just licking my dick, whazzup with you?. yeah. the crazy horse, you'll have to look it up. i don't know what i'm up to. where's this party at?
it's called "mary xmas." mary like a chick. like her name is mary, not like you marry her. you fucking moron. i dunno, some warehouse shit. is this gonna be cool?
my friend claire here says it's going to be a kick-ass-fucking-time. what, you know her? it's your buddy simon. he's in vegas.
she knows. hell, i dunno.  maybe. yeah, well save a load for me big boy. whatever.
what do you want for christmas, claire?
do you want to get laid?
no, you don't wanna get laid or no, you do, but you don't want to get laid with me?
either way you're fucked. where are they, claire?
they'll be here. huh.
are you a virgin?
c'mon, claire. answer the question. answer the question, claire.
look at me. i want to show you something.
i'm kidding!
i'm not kidding. where the fuck are they, claire?
speak!
that's no problem. these things happen, i understand that.
i'm keeping fifty. call it interest.
hey ronna.
i just gave you a favor.
races past. ronna kneels down to mannie, who's hunched over his knees sweating and shaking.
how's it going, ronna? how are sales?
i'm not going to ask you to.
not really.
i'm the last fucking person you should be expecting a favor from.
so now you're an entrepreneur.
stands where he is, gun still in hand, dumbfounded.
hey.
no. it's fine.
it's evil.
okay. location mostly. bottom right corner, just waiting there to suck. it's the last thing you read, and it spoils everything you read before it.
i hate it, yet i'm uncontrollably drawn to it. are you going to.
what?
me.
professional curiousity. what are you on?
how did you get out?
simon's apartment is around the back -- * the gate's always open. now, you're going to take sunset to hyperion. * as he's talking, we move to reveal vic jr. by the door, holding * the gun on them, and claire, sitting on the couch beside gaines. * gaines * at hillhurst, you have to keep right -- * you want sunset boulevard, not sunset * drive. * claire * * why don't you just drive him there? maybe * you could help pull the trigger. * gaines gives her a look. victor takes the map and folds it. * he hands gaines back his credit card.
be good!