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can call me Mr. Hill.
I hope I didn't interrupt
anything too romantic for you, -
- but that whore could go all day long.
Besides, I was getting tired
sitting down in the cab of my truck.
She lost me on the freeway.
Let me give you a little
friendly piece of advice.
I know you're retired. You got
this family thing going here.
But you really ought to have
your name and number unlisted.
Information girl
give me your address.
Your fucking address, man.
That don't sound too smart.
- What are you looking for?
- Tequila.
- To your right.
- Mm.
The good stuff.
Fancy.
You got any limes?
No? Just as well.
Oh! Yeah! Damn!
It always tastes like old feet to me.
That shit'll fuck you up,
though. Mm.
You ever hear how it's made?
A bunch of Mexicans... sitting
around this big wooden vat -
- chewing on agave, right?
They do this days and days
spitting into this giant vat.
Then when it's full, -
- then they leave that there
to ferment.
When it's ready, -
- they scoop off the top layer.
That's mescal.
Nasty, huh?
No wonder that shit tastes so bad.
Well, I ain't going to shit you, pal.
When I leave here today, -
- you're going be dead
as Cinderella over there.
Regardless of what you tell me, -
- I'm gonna fuck you up.
Ready to get started?
I know you threw out the smack.
And you probably don't know
where the money is, neither.
That's cool.
The truth is...
I ain't got nothing better to do...
- while I wait here
for my old friend, Nick.
Just so you know, I ain't
going to let you bleed to death.
No, sir.
'Cause when I cut you...
- I'm going to cauterize you.
I consider myself an artist.
Matter of fact, -
- I picked up this little girl
at this club one time, -
- and I cut on her for 16 hours.
That's a personal best.
But I keep hopin'.
You know, in a way, -
- it's really Nick that's
to blame for all this.
If he hadn't tried
to double-cross me and Dallas, -
- I wouldn't be here.
All right. Now, let's see.
I think I'm going to start
at the feet and work my way up!
What the hell?
Open the door. Police!
Open the fucking door, Will!
There's no Will here! Go away!
Stupid son of a bitches.
They got the wrong house.
Go away!
Everybody on the ground!
Don't go nowhere.
Where's the money, motherfucker?
Where's the money?
I mean, there's no money in here!
Shut up, bitch!
There's a .45 in the fridge -
- and you grab a fucking frying pan.
I must have some
really bad karma.
Stupid cops.
They busted up the wrong house.
They went in,
blew everyone away!
The wrong house!
They got the Wong house.
They got the "Wong" house.
Shit, man. Lighten up.
Where the hell was I?
Yeah. I think I was, uh...
This piece of shit
was going to cut you up.
Now you fucking do it.
Do it!
Fuck!
Dallas was right.
Hello.
- Hey, Case.
- Nick!
Man, it's good
to hear from you!
Goddamn.
I just wanted to tell you -
- how much I enjoyed your visit.
- I know you're pissed.
Pissed? Oh, no, I'm not pissed.
If you hadn't brought your friends along -
- what would I have done
with my day, man?
I'd a missed out on being beaten and
raped, abused, tied up, generally fucked up.
- Casey...
- Not to mention what you done for my house.
What would you call it?
Early-Gothic horror.
I don't have time for this shit.
I'm dead.
Unless I make this next plane,
you can write me off.
- There's still a chance for you.
- Where's the money, Nick?
That's why I'm calling you.
I stole it from the cops, -
- and they ain't real happy about it.
They're going to be coming after you.
They already hit
the house next door.
It's only a matter of time.
- What about the fucks you stole the shit from?
- Oh, they're dead.
Unfortunately, the niggers
who they work for ain't.
They're going to find you too,
sooner or later.
Come on, man.
Where's the money?
I hid it.
I want you to get out
of town for a while.
Take a vacation...
A second
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