hey.
not bad.
okay.
where do we go?
what shit is this. i just do it. i don't prepare it.
this is un-fucking professional.
fuck you, mr. whatever-your-name is. this is a lifestyle i embrace.
five thousand.
i got half.
yeah.
the forever kind.
i believe in mocking the afflicted. good for 'em. makes 'em stronger.
ever take a look at the women who work in pet stores? wow.
good luck.
jesus, are you gay enough or what.
very attractive. good idea. now i really want to fuck you.
 you can always tell the ones who'll do anal.
kinda makes you wonder why more people don't put a bullet through their fuckin' skulls, doesn't it.
looks like they just airbrushed the dick out of his mouth.
why don't they have tv shows about people whose daily lives you'd be interested in watching. y'know. like skinny little weakling. or big fat guy. sick old man. family of losers. wouldn't that be good?
two blacks and a mexican in a car. who's driving?
the l.a.p.d.
oh yeah, keep doing that. that's really healthy.
can't you do something about your ass?
other people's lives scare the shit out of me.
"homeless" people. fuck them. remember when they were just bums? everyone with an axe to grind. like to grind in their face. pretty soon there'll be shit-in- your-pants rights groups. stupidity activists.
wonder what it's like being a dumb guy in a dumb suit trying to cross the street.
life sure is a minefield.
look at that one. she's really been used.
i'd love to be famous so i could snub ordinary people. imagine, you're famous, you're sitting in a restaurant, some fool comes up to you, wants you to sign your name on his napkin, his wife is there, it would be something these poor saps would cherish the rest of their lives, talk about to their cretin friends. bam! you tell 'em to fuck off! god, i'd love that.
avery said she was tight with his daughter.
so what.
and i said so what. you think she's any happier?
any happier than any other asshole in life.
hi, kids.
sits on the floor. holds his hurt face. thompson walks over and picks up stacy's gun. one of the other blacks relieves a reluctant uncle john of his.
straight rotation, no shit, call your shot.
let him break - he likes to break.
i wouldn't talk.
i saw your mother on the strip last night. she went up to three guys, said she'd like 'em to stick one in each, know what i mean?
yeah.
hangs up. goes back to uncle john. picks up his cue again.
there's more than a measly few grand in this.
something's on.
i happen to know more about mr. whatever- his-name-is than he thinks i know about him and his operation.
you bet.
like he'd never hire me for real. not week-to-week. i don't have the credentials. he thinks i'm just a sociopath, someone he can turn to when he needs "plausible denial."
"he ain't wrong." listen, i know this asshole who did just go to work for him. full-time. and this dickhead's parents just told me he took a road trip up the coast. that's the type of individual gets hired, someone who'll shoot his mouth off to his family while on the job.
i don't know who that english guy is. some kind of -- -- courier or something. maybe a seller. maybe a buyer. but mr. avery wanted him, those jigs wanted him -- and i betcha there's a briefcase somewhere.
drugs? cash? both if we're lucky.
while they're all fucking each other over .  couple of parties like us could move right in.
stares up at him, choking on his last few breaths.