enough,
and I wanna thank you, Dr. Block.
Son of a bitch.
So, Pop.
What do you think?
Well, Son Number One,
what I think is so goddamn ghoulish
I hesitate to speak it out loud.
Well, give it a shot.
Well, what we have here
is a case of vehicular homicide.
That ol' boy in there
murdered them pretty little gals.
I mean, he used a car, not a hatchet,
but they're dead just the same.
Well, what are you gonna do?
Not a goddamn thing.
D.A. says there ain't no crime here.
Every one of them gals was swimming
in alcohol and floatin' on weed,
and old Hooper in there
came out clean as a whistle.
Now, you actually think that he
premeditatively murdered them gals?
Well, I can't prove it.
But since thinkin' don't cost nothin',
I can think it, and I do.
Yeah, but Pop, he got
pretty banged up himself.
Well, hell yeah,
he got banged up, but goddamn...
I mean, them pretty little gals in there
look like a goddamn giant
chewed 'em up and spit 'em out.
Did any of 'em survive?
Shit.
Two tons of metal,
200 miles an hour,
flesh and bone
and plain old Newton...
they all princess died.
Why?
Well, I'd guesstimate
it's a sex thing.
The only way I can figure it.
High-velocity impact,
twisted metal, busted glass,
all four souls taken
exactly the same time.
Probably the only way that diabolical
degenerate can shoot his goo.
Yeah, I think the only thing
we can dream of getting that bastard on
is vehicular manslaughter
for the hitchhiker in the death box.
That was just plain old,
goddamn reckless endangerment.
But I got me a goddamn bartender
gonna testify that ol' Stuntman
Mike didn't drink a drop all night.
And his passenger
was left stranded by her date,
in the goddamn rain, no less,
and she asked him for the fucking ride.
Now, on paper, this is gonna look
like he was just trying to help her out.
I mean, that's the way
the jury's gonna see it.
So, what are you gonna do, Pop?
Tsk.
Well, I could take it
upon myself to work the case,
Search for evidence,
you know, prove my theory.
Alert authorities.
Dog that rotten son of a bitch...
wherever he goes, I go.
Or I could spend the same
goddamn amount of time and energy
following the NASCAR circuit.
Hmm. I've thought about it a lot.
I think I'd have a hell
of a lot happier life if I did the latter.
And just because I can't
punish Old Frankenstein
in there for what he's done,
I'm gonna tell you
like the Lord told John...
if he ever does it again,
I can make goddamn sure
he don't do it in Texas.
##
# You know you 're sliding down #
# Against your heart #
# Yeah. you got one #
# Just close your eyes #
# So you can see #
# So you can see #
# No. baby. I don 't care #
# What they say. it's so easy #
# No. baby. I don 't care #
# What they say. it's so easy #
# Yeah. it's comin ' on #
# It 's getting sweeter #
# And sweeter #
# If you 're gonna drown #
# Then do it the right way #
# The right way #
# I don 't care what they say. it's so easy #
# I don 't care what they say. it's so... #
Are you on the same floor as him?
No, he's on the fourth.
- And who's in whose room?
- He's in mine.
And so what happened then?
We made out for about ten minutes,
and then I sent him off to his room.
- So how's the Rock as a kisser?
- Mm, he's damn good.
He's got them mushy lips,
smooth fingertips.
Mm, I love them mushy lips.
He's a big guy, so he spins me around
so my back is up against him,
takes his big hand
and puts it on my throat,
tilts my head back and leans over me,
kisses me from behind.
Damn, that sounds sexy!
It was sexy.
But then that was it?
You sent him off? How'd he take it?
Wait a minute, what are we doing here?
If I'm gonna power through and pick up
Zoл at the airport, I need coffee.
Since you 're getting that, can you get
some more vodka and sugar-free Red Bull?