there anything we can do to help?
- Is that your van?
- What the hell's wrong? No, sir.
- Yes, sir.
- It doesn't look familiar.
- What are you doing?
I can't believe it.
This is my first frisk.
- I hope you're enjoying this. Listen.
- What are you doing?
Romping through the desert,
all right.
But I don't see no naked women.
I should have my head overhauled
for listening to you.
My grandmother was right.
Cow shit for brains.
- Me?
- No, me!
- What are you doing?
- I'm gettin' bad.
Better get bad, 'cause if you ain't bad,
you're gonna get fucked.
You bad, they don't mess with ya.
Hey, home, get down!
You a little too bad.
- Do some of these. Right on.
- Yeah!
All right. Here we go.
That's right.
That's right, we bad.
We don't want no shit, either.
- That's right.
- Darn right.
We don't want no shit.
You understand?
We don't take too much shit.
They love us.
We don't take shit.
Damn right.
- That's right. Say "no shit."
- No shit.
That's right. No shit.
- Try it again.
- We don't take no shit.
- No shit.
- No shit for me.
- We ain't shittin'.
- You better believe it, baby.
What the hell's wrong with him?
Oh, shit.
Come on, man.
Carry me back to ol' Virginny. Lord!
Did you get it?
There it is...
Right on the end of your nose.
Sinsemilla!
- Give me a light.
- He wants a light.
Right on.
Man wants a light.
A light.
Why?
Oh, shit!
Short-ass son of a bitch, ain't ya?
I'm a short son of a bitch.
My father was a short
son of a bitch too.
My mother was shorter than him...
And my brother was real short
and we couldn't even see him.
He was a short son of a bitch.
- What's your charge?
- I'm innocent.
- Ain't we all?
- Bank robbery.
You can kiss the baby.
"Kiss the baby"?
What baby is that, sir?
Ask your lawyer.
- I'm Slowpoke.
- Hi, Slowpoke. This is Harry.
This state gives the longest sentences
in the country for everything...
especially for bank robbery,
but it's misleading.
So don't wet your pants,
'cause they also have...
the most liberal good time program
in the country.
If the bottom should drop out
from under you innocent bad-asses...
that's one bright spot
to look forward to.
- What is he talking about?
- Do you know what he said?
- The bottom falls...
- Should the bottom fall out?
"This filthy roach-ridden reality...
is inspiring..."
What did that second policeman say to
you when he grabbed you by the throat?
- Man, I don't fucking believe you.
- "Man, I don't fucking believe you-"
- Fabulous!
- You don't get it, do you?
You think this is
the Count of Monte Cristo?
We're in trouble. This is the real deal.
We're in deep shit.
You and I are innocent.
You know that, I know that,
and somewhere outside...
The two guys who really pulled
that bank job know it too.
But the cops don't know it!
Donahue! Monroe!
I am entitled
to a private interview.
Forget it.
- Hello, sir. Are you here for us?
- I believe so.
I'm Skip Donahue.
This is my buddy Harry Monroe.
I'm Len Garber,
your court-appointed lawyer.
- What a pleasure it is to see you.
- Do me a favor.
Call this number for me.
It's my girlfriend, Cindy Laurence.
- They won't let me make a phone call.
- This is very important to him.
- Of course I will.
- Tell her we're at our cousin's.
- There's been a huge misunderstanding.
- A huge misunderstanding.
I am more or less familiar
with the case.
You know that we're so innocent?
Isn't there some lightning stroke
you can use to cut through this garbage?
This isn't funny anymore.
Do they know I hate confinement?
All I can do is shower them
with motions...
and try to keep
the prosecution off-balance.
- I've already filed two.
- You've only filed two motions?
- How about a dozen on me?
- We're dealing with robbery and assault.
In this part of the country you might
as well have set fire to the Pentagon.
Will the defendants rise.
Considering all the facts and arguments
presented by both counsel...