malakas.
Do you believe that?
You can say that again!
(# Blues music plays)
(Adopts blues singer accent) Fats, man.
Let me tell you my story, man.
Last year, I was insane
for this crazy little 8th grade bitch.
- Crazy insane?
- Insane?
I was nuts for the woman, man.
You've gotta believe me.
I'm telling the truth.
I was nuts for the girl.
What did it to me
was these big titties she had.
For a 13-year-old, she wouldn't have to
worry about titties for the rest of her life!
- She was set and looking good.
- That's the truth, baby.
I called her every night for a month.
I'm talking devotion, man.
- Every damn night?
- Every night, Mitch.
(Man) On the telephone?
What's he talking about
"on the telephone"?
Explain it to him.
Goddamn, we know
there's a telephone.
But he hung up on her.
The chick with those big titties?
I hung up on the bitch.
Here's the capper.
Do you know what the bitch did?
- Lay it on.
- Listen to what she did to me.
She kneed you in the nuts
and called him "faggot".
- She did what?
- Bitch kneed your nuts?
Bitch kneed my nuts.
I'm not playing with you.
- In the family jewels?
- In the family jewels, man.
- Worst pain there is.
- Broke my heart in two.
- She broke more than your heart!
- Yeah, you're right there, baby.
You can forget that other one because
you've got this fine jewel by you.
Ain't that the truth, baby.
That's the clean truth.
There he goes!
- Party's over.
- (Gary) "Party's over", said the girl.
I'm going to get out of here.
I've got money for everybody.
I've got five bucks says
that boy won't make it.
I really shouldn't be driving.
Listen, I appreciate it.
I just don't feel like driving.
(Whines) OK, forget it. I'll drive.
Give me the keys. Give me the keys!
Is he going to be all right?
I don't know.
I warned him about that bourbon.
Hey, he don't even have a licence, Lisa.
I don't even have a learner's permit.
Let's scout another party, man.
What are you going to tell Chet
about me?
- Nothing.
- That's not very realistic, Wyatt.
I don't know. I'm just trying
to concentrate on the road.
You'd better concentrate harder.
You're about to run a red light.
Oh, shit!
(Gary) I hate that blues shit.
I never listens to it.
- I hate this car. I hate it!
- Are you OK?
My nuts are halfway up my ass
but other than that, I'm perfect!
You better think what you're going
to do about Chet. He's one serious idiot.
You're stewed, butt wad.
- Who me?
- Know what time it is?
- 2:00?
- Time to pay the fiddler.
I was counting on you
to be human about this.
Here's the bottom line, Wyatt.
I'm telling Mum and Dad everything.
I'm even considering
making up some shit.
All right, Chet. Name your price.
175 dollars and zero cents.
Cash, new bills. Crisp and clean
in my wallet by 7:00am.
- Thank you.
- Hey, what are big brothers for!
See you upstairs.
Out of the "Jungle Book".
The booze hounds return.
What a joke. Hi, girls.
Feeling kind of queasy?
How about a nice greasy pork sandwich
served in a dirty ashtray?
He pukes, you die.
- He's not laughing at you, Chet.
- Yes, I am.
Did he tell you about the woman
we made tonight?
He doesn't know
what he's talking about.
- No shit!
- No shit, Chet.
You two donkey dicks
couldn't get laid in a morgue.
- You are absolutely right.
- Get him out of here.
What?
(Retches)
Cold-blooded shit. He's an asshole.
Anybody with a haircut like that
is an asshole.
Psst! Lisa.
(Whispers) Where are you?
(Whispers) I'm right behind you.
Surprise.
I'm not going to hurt you.
Your lips feel like rigor mortis
has set in.
Try and relax a little bit.
I'm only kissing you.
I wasn't expecting you to kiss me.
I mean, I was just...
That was better.
- Want to try it again?
- If you don't mind.
Yes, please.
(Wyatt whimpers)
- You sure you're only 15?
- I'll be 16 in June.
You made me.
You control me.
What are you thinking about?
Women's gymnastics.
Well, I don't know.