(# heavy rock)
(gunshot)
(horn)
(horn, tyres screech¡ng)
(horn)
(eng¡ne backf¡res)
(eng¡ne t¡cks over)
(crunch)
(car door closes)
(zapper, eng¡ne stops, doors lock)
(doors groan)
Namaste! Aaj ka mausam achcha ha¡.
What the hell was that?
Hello, hello. How are you? N¡ce weather we are hav¡ng today.
N¡ce weather?
You th¡nk we're hav¡ng... n¡ce weather?
I guess you d¡drt lose the only one that meant anyth¡ng ¡n your l¡fe.
I guess you don't feel burned out by the human m¡sery and despa¡r...
...perpetrated by the verm¡n that infest every pore of th¡s decay¡ng c¡ty...
...forc¡ng you to guzzle cheap w¡ne and cheaper wh¡sky...
...to dull the pa¡n that shatters your heart and rips at your soul...
...and keeps your days forever grey.
(s¡ghs) What flavour Icy you got today?
- K¡w¡-cherry. - K¡w¡-cherry.
Yuck.
Oh, baby.
(wh¡rr¡ng)
Namaste.
- Excuse me. - Yes, s¡r?
- Do you have any of these ¡n taupe? - No taupe. Beef jerky.
And you call th¡s a conven¡ence store?
(mutter¡ng)
Open up the cash reg¡ster or I'll splatter your bra¡ns!
- Take ¡t easy... - Excuse me.
(rack shotguns)
You scuzzballs m¡nd ¡f I jo¡n ¡n?
(f¡res gun)
(h¡-tech wh¡ne)
(bullets r¡cochet)
Yeh kyaa kar rahe ha¡n?
(shouts)
(glass t¡nkles)
(slurps)
(glass t¡nkles)
(thuds)
(cocks p¡stol) I know what you're th¡nk¡ng, punk.
You're th¡nk¡ng, "D¡d he f¡re 173 t¡mes...
...or 174?"
Well? Do you feel lucky, punk?
(m¡crowave bell)
Aur tu has rahaa ha¡! Yeh sab rakh do!
- You guys gotta get that th¡ng f¡xed. - Kahaan jaa rahe ho? Yeh sab rakh do!
I know, I know. Don't thank me. I'm just a cop, do¡r h¡s job.
- Idhar aao wapas! - A¡se mat jaao!
(# smooth funk)
(tyres screech)
(r¡ng¡ng tone)
You've reached the desk of Sergeant Wes Luger.
P/ease /eave a message after the beep.
- Yeah, Wes? It's me, B¡lly. - Hey! / said after the beep!
- Excuse me(!) - (beep)
- L¡sten, ¡t's 9.36... - (bell)
Oh. 9.37.
Look, ¡t's just gett¡ng too dangerous to wa¡t here. I gotta get out.
Meet me at the Squealer's Hotel ¡n about 45 m¡nutes. I have a contact there.
(cr¡ckets ch¡rp)
(coughs)
(doorbell)
- Who is it? - (cod-Austrian) Uwwwilderness Girls!
- Wilderness Girls! - Little late to be sellir cookies.
Troop Leader says we are not meeting our quota.
(sighs)
- I'll take a couple of boxes. - That won't be necessary, Miss York.
I gotta be honest. You look better in the wig.
My hairstyle is the least of your worries.
Wilderness Girls, eh? So that's how you're moving the drugs.
Brilliant, Miss York. Now...
...uwwhere is the meecrofilm?
- Ze meecrofilm. - I don't know anything about it.
Don't play coy wiz me. This is too important.
And zis is the plot.
Important enough so that anyone in earshot should listen to every detaiI?
- That important. - You're talking about the microfilm...
...which holds the recipe for turning cocaine into innocent-looking cookies?
- Yes. - I don't know anything about it.
In a little while, Miss York...
...you will be begging for mercy.
No, no. I'll beg now.
Save yourself unnecessary pain. Tell me!
- McCracken. - Thank you, Miss York.
(muffled gunshot, bullet casing clinks)
Is that Dan McCracken or Mike McCracken?
(gasps) Mike.
- (groans) - (bullet casing clinks)
Is he on Alpine or Oak?
Alpine.
- (groans) - (bullet casing clinks)
Hey! Psst!
Park on Third. You'll never find a spot on Alpine.
Thank you. You have been most co-operative.
- Don't mention it. - (muffled gunshot)
(bullet casing clinks)
And you. Remember.
You saw nothing.
(coin clinks)
- (tyres squeal) - Ow!
One raspberry push-up and one limeade.
(conversation and shouting)
- (police radio crackles) - What you got, Irv?
Oh... it beats me, Sarge.
Dandruff, seborrhoea, maybe just dry, itchy scalp.
Have you tried this? I use it.
Head & Shoulders? But Sarge, you don't have dandruff!
(chuckles) I know.
- (# stee/ band) - Are you ready to limbo? Whoo!
- What'll it be? Matt finish or glossy? - Matt.
Good choice.
- It'll be ready in about a week. - (cop laughs) One more time!
What are we looking at here, Doc?
The worst-dressed stiff I've ever seen.
We pounded a beat together for five years. Show some respect.
I'm sorry, Wes.
I see so much of this senseless mayhem that I get a little insensitive.
OK. This loser has taken the chickenshit way out and punched her own ticket.
Suicide, huh?
She must've caught herself by surprise.
Found these on the floor near her.
Wilderness Girl cookies.
- Would you give me a hand there, Doc? - Sure. (strains)
(strains)
(thump, gristly crunching)
Thanks.
You knew her, Sarge?
Yeah. I knew her. She was my partner.
I'm sorry, Sarge.
Hey. Hey, Sarge?
- It's tingling! - Good, Irv. That means it's working.
(# /onesome b/ues guitar)
(gull cries)
Here's to gettir through another lousy day.
Claire...
Oh, Claire.
I miss you so much.
I'm tryir, Claire.
God knows, I'm tryir.
But it's too damn hard without you.
- (tears plop) - I'll get the bastards that took you.
- Well, Herb, back to the salt mines. - Yeah. Mind if I drive this time?
- Lady, if you didrt resist so much... - Do not put me on hold again!
This is supposed to be an express line! This guy's got 14 counts!
No, he had fuller lips. Pouting lips. Wide eyes.
Yes! That's him.
- Hey, Dooley! Give it a break, man. - What's going on?
Dooley's bet us he can escape in 15 minutes.
- How long's he been at it? - Three days.
You better step on it.
(bellows) What the hell is everyone doir? What's the big idea!
You think crime's takir a holiday?! Think again! What the hell you want?!
- I want the York case. - There is no York case! It was suicide!
- (bellows) Coffee? - No, thanks.
Cappuccino? Espresso?
Scotty! Can you get this machine to work?
I've given her all she's got, Captain. If I push her any harder, she'll blow!
Give me my plate!
I don't think York was a suicide. She was onto something.
On something is more like it! Those cookies were laced with cocaine!
No wonder I couldn't eat just one.
York left me a message. She'd uncovered drug runners. That's what got her killed.
- You don't think it was bullets? - Give me the case.
You're days from retirement. Let it go.
Let it go?! York was a partner. A friend. I owe her!
I owe it to every cop who's ever walked a beat and laid his life on the line!
Wait a minute! I'm the captain here! I do all the yelling!
- If it's that important, take the case! - Thank you!
- Thank you, Captain. - Don't be so fast to thank me!
You gonna be naked on this one! It's on the line! You blow it, you're goir down!
You gonna be hung out to dry! Drop the ball and you'll be twistir in the wind!
Embarrass this department, and your pants will be dancing with figs!
- Is that clear?! - Everything but the pants-fig thing.
Narco's sending one of their burned-out psychos to look into the cookies!
- I'm teamir him with you! - Captain, you know I work alone.
You get the case, you get Jack Colt!
Cigarette!
- Cigarette! Hit the floor! - Cancer stick!
- Hey! Back off! - Easy.
That's Luger's new partner!
You can't seriously be thinking of using this man.
He's dangerous! A menace!
A loose cannon. A walking time bomb.
Most of all, he is gun-happy.
(cocks pistol) Where do you get off sayir that?
I give up.
There's someone you better talk to if this case involves cookies.
- Not him. - Yeah. Him!
(# sombre synthesizer)
You know the rules. Do not touch the glass.
Do not hand him any sharp instruments, power tools, sewing items or condiments.
Stay to the left when you walk down the hall. He's in the last cell.
The right! I meant stay to the right!
(cries out)
(grunting)
(puffs and grunts)
- Yah! - (toy squeaks)
(metal door slams)
(muffled) Untie my fetters.
What?
(muffled) Untie my fetters.
- (Colt) Oompah-pah? - (muffled) Untie my fetters!
Is it a code? An... obscure foreign language?
Aaaaah!
Ouch.
So this is Mr "Screw with your brain, eat your spleen...
...wear your flesh as a hairnet" Leacher, huh? Look who's Mr Scaredy-Pants now.
Waaah!
Identification, please.
Closer.
Please. Sit.
(sighs) Dr Leacher, we need to ask you...
There's someone out there again, isrt there?
- A bad boy with pastries. - Yes!
(sniffs)
Hai Karate. You wear that sometimes, don't you?
(sniffing) But not today. Today, it's... mentholated Deep Heat rub.
You order chef's salad with dressing on the side.
You have a wife with perky breasts...
...a nine-year-old son and a sixteen-year-old daughter.
- Who told you that? - I saw their picture in your wallet.
We came here to talk about cookies.
Quid pro quo, Mr Colt.
What's that mean?
It means I'm pretentious.
Tell me about the worst meal you've ever eaten, Mr Colt. Quick!
Uh... it was a fish sandwich at, um...
Don't tell him anything! Now, can you help us?
You hold the key, Mr Colt.
Look into yourself for an answer to the cookie concern.
Look to a man with whom you were involved.
(gulls cry)
No, no. Not him. It was in Vietnam.
(wind moans)
(gulls cry)
No, no. You disappoint me, Mr Colt.
It was Mortars. General Mortars.
- Wait a minute! I never... - I didrt mean that kind of involvement.
- Oh. - You were under his command.
Mortars was my patient.
- I taught him to express his anger. - You taught him well.
Quite. After our last session, he started the Vietnamese war.
Seek him out. And... when you find him...
...please...
...I would love to eat his cookies...
...with some fava beans and a nice chilled Fresca.
(slurps)
I just gotta ask. What does human flesh taste like?
Chicken.
Are we gonna see Mortars?
Follow the lead of a mind-twisting, jumpsuit-wearing sociopath?
Forget it. I've only got 48 hours.
Wrong, Sarge. 47 hours, 29 minutes.
- I'm looking for my ex-partner's killer. - Come on, Spud! This way!
She was meeting some stoolie at the Squealer's Hotel.
- I'm innocent! - I don't need a hotshot cowboy...
- They're gonna fry me! - Not validated.
- What? - Va... li... da... ted.
What I don't need is a hotshot cowboy from Narco gettir in my way. You got it?
Listen, pal, you're not the only one who lost a partner. I...
- You got anything smaller? - Keep it.
- Anything larger? - Yeah.
Claire and I rode together for seven years.
York and I were in Academy together. Then we partnered for five years.
Before that, we dodged the draft together.
Before that, we played high-school football together.
Before that, we were in grade school together.
And before that, we breast-fed together.
What happened to your partner?
I don't know. I came home and she was gone.
You were living together?
Hell, she'd sleep at my feet and lick my toes.
Though sometimes she'd just lick herself for hours.
Huh. I don't think it's such a good idea to get that involved with your partner.
Hey, you try not getting involved...
...with a partner who saves your life, then nuzzles your crotch.
Billy and I didrt have that kind of relationship.
She left the force about five years ago. We didrt see each other much after...
...but when we did, she was excited to see me.
When Claire was excited, she'd pee on my leg.
- What do you think happened to her? - Maybe she just took off.
I didrt pay enough attention to her. I realised when she shit in my shoes.
But my gut tells me we were getting too close to someone.
I had a feeling we were being followed.
You may be right. I think we're being followed now.
Don't look! Just play it cool.
So, uh... did you catch that Stallone retrospective?
No! Sounds fascinating, though.
I'm gonna try and lose 'em.
(tyres squeal)
- Nice driving. - Thanks.
# (jazz) You rea//y got me goir
# You got me so / don't know what /'m doir- yeah!
# You Really got me now
# You got me so I can't sleep at night
- # Oh, yeah, you've really got me now - (women) # Yeah
# You got me so I don't know what I'm doing
# Oh, yeah, you really got me now
- # You got me so I can't sleep at night - # Yeah, you really got me
# You really got me Huh!
# You really got me Ptoo!
(mimics brush on snare drum)
- # Don't ever set me free... - (crash, glass breaks)
What the hell?
(# mi/itary drums ro//)
General.
(camp) How's your health, Mike?
Fine.
(water bubbles, TV announcer chatters)
- Sea-Monkeys? - Pirana.
Their lives exude a beautiful simplicity:
...savage, ruthless, existing only to devour and destroy...
...to taste blood, to rend flesh.
Sounds like me, right? (chuckles)
(bubbling and gurgling)
(chuckles evilly)
In its own environment, the pirana is a killer. In mine, just a helpless fish.
There's a lesson to be learned from that, don't you think?
Mike...
- (hair dryer whirs) - ...I have a concern you might alleviate.
(turns dryer off) Certain information was shared with an individual...
...who might have jeopardised the cookie operation. While they were eliminated...
...we have yet to recover a very important item.
Where is the microfilm, Mike?
I don't know. I gave it to York. I thought she was one of your men.
- Act in haste, repent in leisure. - But he who hesitates is lost.
- Never judge a book by its cover. - What you see is what you get.
- Loose lips sink ships. - Life is very short...
...and there's no time for fussing and fighting, my friend.
Sorry, Mike, no good.
You've been careless. Sloppy.
We just can't have that.
Where's the microfilm, Mike?
(snivels) Please... I don't have it...
(pistol shots, women scream, automatic weapons fire)
(tyres screech)
Does this have anything to do with the Billy York killing?
Nah. Domestic dispute.
OK, I'm gonna try and talk 'em out.
Hold your fire untiI I give the order!
Anata wa kira desu! Watashi wa Sergeant Luger desu!
Can I have one that's made in America? You up there!
I order you to throw your hands down and come out with your weapons up!
- (gunshot) - Who fired that shot?
- Sergeant. That was me. - Give it to me.
- Well, you see, I was just... - Glve me the gun!
When you learn to follow orders, you can have it back.
Oh, so we think that's funny, do we, Officer... Davis(?)
Well, maybe we'd a// like to know what's so funny!
Maybe Officer Davis can make us a// laugh.
Nice to see all those smiling faces out there!
Say, what do you call 2,000 lawyers at the bottom of the sea?
- A good start! (guffaws) - (drum ro// and cymba/)
Why'd the guy name his penis?
He didrt want a stranger making most of his decisions!
Thanks a lot. You've been great.
Make sure he doesn't get any doughnuts.
You could've gone lighter on the guys.
That's how it starts. You lighten up, next thing you know...
...all the rules are out the window.
- Tight-ass. - You say something?
Uh-uh.
Pencil-neck.
Butthead.
(man coughs)
What is it with you guys?
I run a respectable place! What are you arrestir me for?
I got friends downtown. I don't know what you're talkir about!
- We haven't said anything yet. - I got nothir to say!
Park the tongue, buddy! I'm Sergeant Colt. This is Sergeant Luger.
Did you know a woman named Billy York?
You got a picture?
Here we go.
- That her? - No, that's her picture.
Nope, don't know her.
Well, maybe this will refresh your memory.
She's a little out of focus.
(woman screams, gunshot)
(shriek)
(bullets ricochet, screeching)
(woman shrieks)
Is this the Billy York informant shoot-out?
I don't know, I just got here. Wait a second.
Hey, Larry! Larry!
Is this the Billy York informant shoot-out?
- Nah. Check out the third floor. - Thanks.
Beat it.
This is an FBI case.
All right, bring him on out.
Is he the York informant?
Get your shit together, will ya? That's Becker, 403.
Hey, you!
Not so fast.
That's better!
No! I'll handle this.
All right, Becker, open up! Police!
(machine-gun fire)
(firing stops)
Now that we've tried it your way, let's try mine.
- Who is it? - Rrrrroom service!
Whadda-whadda what? I don't know nothir! I airt sayir nothir!
Nothing! The word is nothing, not nothir. It has an "ing" on the end.
OK. Nothing. No... thing.
Nothiiiiiiiiiiing!
- OK? You happy(?) - That's better.
- That's not what you told York. - I don't know no York. Where's my food?
We ate it. And please, no double negatives.
Sorry(!) I don't know any York.
You don't know any York? These matches say you're lying.
Oh! Oh, York.
She was supposed to meet you the night she died. Why?
- It's where I live. - Yeah, but why you?
The other guy couldn't come up with the deposit.
- What do you know about microfilm? - It's small, and, uh... brittle...
- ...and it's used in a lot of Bond films. - (buzzer)
All right! I did money laundering for your standard ex-military psycho types.
- Give me a name. - Arert your parents supposed to do it?
- Who are you working with? - I can't say!
- There's been three attempts on my life! - Come with us, and there won't be more.
All right, but you gotta understand, this thing is bigger than Watergate!
It's bigger than Oprah! There's nothing you can do cos they're too powerful!
And they're too... je ne sais quoi.
We can protect you.
(glass tinkles)
La commedia... è fini...
Guess that's the last time he'll trust a cop.
- (# Puccini: Nessun Dorma) - Give it to me straight. Is this it?
Level with me. How bad is it?
It's not bad. You'll be fine. You'll be back on your feet in no time.
- Your ticket. - Don't bury me, I'll only be a minute.
OK, you two. Just a little closer together. OK, big smile.
(photographer) Beautiful.
They bought it right away. Those two tried to make a getaway.
- They gave me a new partner, too. - (barks and yelps)
This is Sport.
- She likes you. - I've done worse.
- What are we looking at here? - Mixed breed.
Rottweiler and Chihuahua. I guess they used a lubricant.
- I'm talking about the case. - Oh.
Seeing Sport, I think I could love again.
(both growl)
- What do you have, Irv? - Oh, I'm not sure, Sarge.
It's a nagging, itching, burning sensation.
What the hell do you expect? Your foot's on fire.
- (splosh) - What you got, Sarge?
Well... nothing solid.
- You got any theories? - E equals mc squared.
Anything of your own?
No. I'll tell you, Sarge, something just doesn't add up.
- What? - (Colt) Get her off me!
My wife and I haven't had sex for two years. I have a six-month-old daughter.
(chuckles) Irv, Irv, you're getting too suspicious.
This job will do that to you.
You're right, Sarge. Thanks.
- (photographer) OK, smile. - How's this?
All right. Stay just as you are.
- Goodness! - Hey, buddy, want to give me a hand?
I don't know, this may /ook like a suicide...
...but my gut tells me there's something else going on.
- (water bubbles, man screams) - Hey, uh...
...werert there five stiffs? Damn! McCrackers missing!
- Hey! Anyone seen McCrackers body? - (Colt) Thanks, Lefty.
I need a little help here! He didrt just get up and walk away!
- What? - I got something important to show you.
So... what's the big news?
See this? This ring was given out to a CIA front in 'Nam run by General Mortars.
When the VC tried financing the war with cocaine, they burned it.
Twelve years later, Mortars and his men went into the drug business.
- Ticket? - I could never prove it.
Are you saying you took evidence from the scene of a criminal investigation?
- Do you want to crack this case? - Not by making up the rules as I go!
Sometimes, pal, those are the only rules that work!
- Good thing we use valet parking. - Taxi!
Guess we're making somebody nervous.
It's gonna take more than a couple of car bombs to stop us.
Not a hell of a lot more.
Don't worry about all this bomb stuff. It happens to me all the time.
I'm not. I'm trying to figure out what to tell my wife about her car.
(growls)
Understand, gentlemen, if you wish to do business with us...
- ...you must take the entire shipment. - Test the merchandise.
Half the payment now, half tomorrow...
...half on delivery. The price is not negotiable.
- The merchandise is satisfactory, yes? - (hissing)
Good. Then we can do business.
Use the Vista card. You get frequent flyer miles.
The shipment will be prepared and boxed Friday evening, for shipping Saturday.
I need a signature and daytime pheune number.
It's a pleasure doing business with you.
Not so fast.
- The carbons? - Smart man.
I like doing business with smart men.
They know never to screw with me.
There's something between you and this General Mortars.
He was my CO in 'Nam.
The CIA listed him as MIA, but the VA ID'd his MO...
- ...and we put out an APB. - Oh, I see.
- May I help you? - It can't be! Not Mary O'Brien...
...the buck-toothed, freckle-faced, pigtailed girl I knew in fifth grade?
No, I'm not. May I help you?
I'm Sergeant Luger. Sergeant Colt. These are our wallets.
- (man) Ow! - May we speak to whomever's in charge?
Follow me.
(metallic clink, man groans)
Miss Demeanor will be right with you. Help yourself to some cookies.
Let me do the talking. I've eaten their cookies.
You're the boss.
Detectives Colt and Loser?
- Lu-ger. - Oh, sorry. Loogie.
Hm... Why don't you make yourselves at home?
No, I meant why don't you sit down and tell me what you want?
- Can I get you something to drink? - Uh... just water.
No, thanks.
We are investigating a felony, Miss Demeanor.
Oh, it sounds violent... I hate violence!
(savage cries)
(stabbing speeds up)
- Anyone for snow cones? - Thanks!
During the course of investigating two homicides...
...we found boxes of Wilderness Girl cookies. They were laced with cocaine.
Oh, my! That's horrible!
But you can't suspect the Wilderness Girls of somehow being responsible?
I can. I'd like you to come downtown and answer a few questions.
OK.
- This is downtown. - Headquarters.
- You can have your attorney present. - Why would I need my attorney?
(kissing)
(steam hisses)
- May I change before I go? - Sure.
- You should always wear your hair down. - For you, I always will.
Look, lady, you may think you can divert our attention. But you're wrong.
We see through your tricks. Now move it.
Do you run the Wilderness Girls?
Yes.
- Is your money raised selling cookies? - Yes.
- Do you know General Mortars? - Well, I drive a Buick.
No, that's General Mortars. Mor... tars.
(rustling, all suck in breath)
- No. - And that's one down, nine to go.
Hi, how you doir? Don't mind me. Just keep doir what you're doir.
We're a team. Hey, honey! Nice outfit. Points out all the tourist attractions!
- Didrt you die? - I thought this was a sequel.
Miss Demeanor, this would not be a good time to lie.
- When is(?) - I don't know the meaning of the word.
- Who was the last man to bat over 400? - Ted Williams.
- What did Cher see in Sonny? - Did Oswald act alone?
- Need help shaving your legs? - Show a little respect!
- So, how many men have you slept with? - (men inale sharply)
(excited murmuring)
(men groan disgustedly)
- Five. Maybe six. - Not a lot for this day and age.
It's been a slow week.
- Do you know Bill York? - Who cares? Do you sleep in the nude?
- Only when I'm naked. - How do you feel about the...
- ...designated-hitter rule? - I hate it.
It undermines the purity of the game.
I like pure things.
(sizzling)
(Miss Demeanor exhales)
They give me pleasure.
Here we go. God...
(excited whispering)
Yes!
- (men wolf-whistle and gasp) - Oh, yes!
- Oh... oh... - Aoow!
We've detained Miss Demeanor long enough. Um...
You can go now. Sorry to have troubled you.
No trouble. But I'll need transportation home. Anybody want to give me a ride?
- (men) Pick me! Pick me! - (cocks gun) Back off!
(# synth rock)
If I were you, I wouldn't leave town.
Oh, I won't. I live here.
- Sorry if it was a little rough on you. - You're just doing your job.
And I'm just a gal like any other gal. I want a home, a family...
...an occasional spanking.
I used a rolled-up newspaper to spank Claire once.
Thanks for bringing me back. It was nice meeting you.
Nice meeting you, too.
- I hope it was a successful performance. - Yeah.
Good. I think we may have stumbled on the whereabouts of the microfilm.
Mr Jigsaw, use your powers of persuasion...
...and see if York left our police friends a little memento.
(clicks heels)
They're not onto you. No more innocent people have to suffer.
You're letting compassion intrude.
It's an unbecoming trait.
(cocks pistol) Drop your gun, Mr Ceu/t.
(door slams)
Who the hell are you?
I am your worst nightmare.
No, waking up without my penis is my worst nightmare.
OK. All right.
So I'm not your worst nightmare, but I'm right up there!
- Now. Where is the meecrofilm? - What's going on here?
- Drop your gun, Mr Luger! - I don't have one.
- You are not carrying a uwwweapon? - I don't believe in them.
Pick up the gun!
Drop the gun, Mr Luger!
- Don't do it! - Drop the gun...
- ...or I shoot your partner. - He's gonna shoot me anyway.
If you drop it, we're both dead. Do it, Wes. Shoot him.
Come on, shoot him! Shoot him, shoot him, shoot him!
(York) Shoot him, shoot him, shoot him! Do it, Wes!
(echoing) Shoot him, Wes! Shoot him! Shoot him, shoot him, shoot him!
(both) Drop the gun!
Get the car!
(# heavy rock)
Freeze!
- (tyres squeal) - (gunshots)
(horn toots, tyres screech)
- Damn! - (tyres squeal)
(car kangaroos)
(thud)
(pants) So you let him get away, huh?
He's gone, Colt. Why not come home with me?
A family environment can offer so much more than your hate-filled existence.
Maybe some other time.
Sergeant Colt. This is Sergeant Luger. We're commandeering your vehicles.
- We're commandeering kids' bikes?! - Yeah.
That's disgusting.
(sighs) I'm getting too old for this bike-confiscating shit.
Don't worry, kids. We'll take good care of your bikes.
(both) Oooaargh!
I can't imagine where Doris is. She always checks out my new partners.
Daddy, this is Mom's "bowling with the Teamsters" night.
Oh! Yeah, right. (chuckles)
So, Ben... Dad help you with your homework?
Nah. I don't want to repeat fifth grade again.
(# su/try guitar and sax)
So, Debbie... how do you like school?
How do you think I like it? It sucks!
Here's Doris now. Hon, I want you to meet my new partner, Jack Colt.
- We've been working together today. - Charmed, I'm sure.
Um... this is Ted Polansky. Ted's a produce manager.
Assistant produce manager.
Mr Brubaker's the manager.
Ted's been very helpful with my produce selections...
...and I thought I should extend him a special courtesy.
(whines)
- I should be going. - Oh, no. Stay for coffee. Coffee, Ted?
- Ted's from a dysfunctional family. - Oh. So no coffee.
He should spend time with us.
I was thinking of taking him to Mother's for the weekend.
- (dog whines) - (Luger) Uh... dear?
I know you're just blocking out the memory...
...but come on. Your mom's been dead for over six months.
Uh-oh. Did I forget to give you that message?
- (shrieks) - (whispers) I'll pass on coffee.
(crickets chirp, waves crash)
(thumping)
(cocks pistol)
(hinges creak)
Did I come at a bad time?
You should be more careful. I could have blasted off your eye shadow.
So, what's with all the candles?
I couldn't find the light switch. You have an interesting place.
It's much bigger than it looks from the outside.
I chose light colours to make it look bigger.
- So what are you doing here? - Waiting for you.
- I mean, what brought you here? - A taxi.
- Yeah, but why? - My car's in the shop.
I mean, why the hell did you come here?
- The police station made me nervous. - You better go.
You're not even gonna ask me why I tracked you down?
OK, why did you track me down?
I wasrt totally honest with you and Detective Loogie.
- No-one ever is. - I can't live with it any more!
I know who's responsible for those cookies.
It's a man I fell for.
A man who used me and betrayed me.
- General Mortars. - Why are you telling me all this?
(sighs) You don't understand.
He's using the Wilderness Girls of America to sell cocaine!
He can ship them anywhere! Everyone trusts a Wilderness Girl cookie!
Oh, my.
I feel as though an incredible weight has been...
...lifted off my chest.
- Can you feel it? - As a matter of fact, I can.
- Isn't it wonderfu/? - Yes.
- And there's more. - More?
Yes. Tomorrow at midnight, a drug deal at the Wilderness Girl cookie factory.
You and Loogie must stop it. But not untiI after.
After what?
- Relax, Colt. - (steam hisses)
I'll talk you through it. Squeeze me.
Squeeze me like I was an S&W 747 double-action Magnum...
...with a chrome eight-inch barrel begging for a few squirts of gun oiI.
- Is this a come-on? - Shh.
Blow in my ear like you'd blow away the discharge from your barrel...
...after you've spent your full load.
(hollow poot)
- Ouch! - What?
- Painful cuticle. - You think that's painful? Razor burn.
Retaining water.
Nickel-beer night. Dodger Stadium.
- And these? Vietnam? - Parochial school.
Grenade.
- Riot at a Love Connection taping. - That's nothing.
Plate in my head.
Elective surgery. I was a fool.
- (buttons clatter) - Try this.
- Low-budget organ transplant. - (hamster squeaks)
Colt. Enough foreplay.
We were made for each other.
(# su/try b/ues)
(tearfully) That was magic, Colt.
(sniffs)
I guess you're crying cos you know it's wrong to get mixed up with a guy like me.
A guy who lives on the edge and plays by his own rules.
A guy who can only spell heartache for a woman like you.
No. I'm crying because now that we've had these moments...
...and I'm so friendly with the villain...
...I know I'm gonna die!
Well, some things are won'th dying for.
Colt! Where are you going?
Nowhere.
I'm just taking one of those unmotivated "butt in the moonbeam" walks.
(helicopter)
- Do you hear something? - (thrumming)
Nah!
(bullets whine)
(bullets ricochet)
What the hell are you doir?
Uh... is this 1014 Pacific Coast Highway?
- Huh? - 1014 Pacific Coast Highway!
No! This is 814 Pacific Coast Highway!
1014's two blocks up that way!
Sorry! My mistake!
Yeah! No problem(!)
No problem(!)
Colt, look!
It's Mortars, I know it.
(Colt) I'm gettir the hell outta here.
- Ouch! That's mine! - Gimme that!
(helicopter draws closer)
(# schma/tzy synth pop)
- Take care, babe. - Colt?
Next time, instead of just smoking in bed, could we actually make love?
- Yeah, maybe. - Colt, please.
I want you. I'm burning for you. I'm on fire.
- And I'm late. - It'll only take a minute.
Who told you that?
(kiss squeakily)
- (rip) - P/ease. Don't you find me desirable?
Sure. But I got a partner to warn.
(# Popeye whistles his theme song)
(laughs) Agh-ag-ag-ag-gah...
Hey! Whoa! What are you doir? Hey! Get your hands off me!
(hoarse) Luger!
(cocks pistol)
(ticking)
Are you crazy? Not that one!
- What the hell are you doing here? - I'm saving your life.
Look, it's always the green one.
- Yeah, but that one's orange. - Who asked you, anyway?
Hey, hey, Colt... did you see Hot Shots?
(clears throat) Not that I'm drawir any parallels here...
...but don't you think it's kinda weird that you're doing this...
- ...and in Hot Shots... - All right, Becker, that's it.
- This one's got your name on it. - Oh, no, no!
Aaaaaargh!
(ticking)
(ticking continues)
(frenzied ticking)
Oops.
(tyres screech, engine backfires)
(birds twitter)
(cocks pistol)
(man) Urrrhurgh... eeh!
Luger! Where are you?
- Luger? - In here.
- What's wrong? - Nothing. Taking a shit.
- (toilet flushes) - Sorry.
Bust at a cookie factory?
I don't know. Can you trust her?
- Yeah. - How do you know? You kissed her?
- Well, sort of. - French?
Give her a hickey?
Shaved her back? Handled her hooters?
- Parked the pink Cadillac? - Nope.
- What can you know about her? - I know we wear the same size pumps.
Are you one of those macho guys who hates women?
If I tell you something, do you promise it'll just stay between us?
Your secret's safe with me. Whatever you tell me won't leave this car. I promise.
My mother never breast-fed me.
She'd... tease me with it and then give me the bott/e.
Went on for years.
Lufthansa announces the departure... (static)
(Co/t) / deve/oped a /ove-hate thing with breasts and a distrust of a// women.
I just don't understand 'em.
He//, / breast-fed ti/// was 16, and / still don't understand women.
(all guffaw)
While we're sharing so openly here...
...I appreciate what you did today, coming to warn me like that.
Most people I know wouldn't have done that.
That's the advantage of working with strangers.
You're tellir me that a guy dressed like a Wilderness Girl with a German accent...
- Austrian? - Austrian, yeah.
... Austrian accent...
...killed York, tried to kill you too...
...and tonight, there's a drug deal at the cookie factory?
- Do I have that straight? - It sounds crazy, but...
It is crazy! Consider this investigation closed!
It was nice almost working with you(!)
You can't quit now. We've come too far.
You heard him. We're off the case.
You're more hung up on going by the book than solving this case.
(echoing school bell)
(engine rumbles, truck horn blasts)
(tyres squea/, crunch)
Oh, no!
By failing to follow the safety guard's manual, look what I've done!
I'm to blame. I didrt go by the rules.
It's all my fault.
From this day forward...
...(echoes) I will a/ways go by the book.
You were a crossing guard? You guys were all geeks!
And what's your problem? You got some kind of death wish?
/f he on/y knew. /t was C/aire who /ived /ife on the edge.
It's hard for you to understand. You got a family. All I got is revenge.
I'm gonna naiI Mortars for those killings.
You're headed in the right direction...
...but you're doing all the wrong things to get there.
Oh, really, Mr Perfect(?) Well, aren't we forgetting something?
I thought I was getting through to you. Sometimes you can't play by the rules.
Well, I'm goir after Mortars, alone and by myself.
- (thump) - (automatic weapons fire)
What Russian novel, embracing more than 500 characters...
- ...is set in the Napoleonic Wars? - War and Peace!
(cocks pistol)
- (metal rattles) - Das war nur der Wind.
Der Mortars ist schwer sauer.
Es ist zu spät für Plotpunkte.
Keine Sorge.
Nur ein Affe würde hierherkommen.
Ja, vielleicht.
- Yaaah! - (glass shatters)
(machinery clatters)
(cocks pistol) I have been uwwwaiting for this moment, Mr Colt.
Hooaaaw!
- Yaah! - (grunts)
- Waah! - Aaaaaargh!
(cocks pistol)
This has gone far enough! First you use my affection...
...then you use me to sell drugs through the Wilderness Girls!
- What kind of a man are you? - A user.
I knew that when you made me parade in a leather demi-cup underwire bra...
- ...matching panties and garter belt. - Is that the bra with the metal studs?
That's the red one! I mean the black set with gold-thread piping.
- Always loved that one. - I hate it.
But most of all, I hate that you made me lure Colt here.
- The man I've come to love. - "The man..."? Don't be foolish.
(cocks pistol) All right, General, playtime's over.
- Colt! - Destiny. I was moved by what you said.
I meant it, Colt. I love you.
No, not that! I meant the black leather outfit.
Oh.
General, your cookie's crumbled.
Perhaps you should see this first.
(rattling)
- Claire! - (whines)
Let her go, General.
Yeah. Let her go and keep me.
- No! - Oh... OK.
Keep her and let me go. Keep everybody but me!
- Why should I listen to any of you? - Because you want this.
Oh... I underestimated you, son.
(cocks pistol) Thank you. I'll take that.
All right, Mr Colt. The game is up.
- Put your weapon down. - Put down yours, General!
You won't shoot me, angel buns. You haven't got the...
- (gunshot) - ...guts!
- Haaah! Yaah! - Aaaaaargh!
Heeeya-ah... Hooowah!
- Waah! - (grunts)
(guttural chuckling)
Hai! Huu! Nya! Huh! Nya! Nya! Nya!
Yah! Yaaah! Yah! Yah!
- Yah! - Hold it!
- OK. - (groans)
Colt, look out! (screams)
Colt, I'm cold.
I'm so cold...
Thanks.
(hawks and retches)
Kiss me...
(coughs and retches)
(hawks and coughs)
May not be a good idea. I, uh... I got a touch of the flu.
Please, Colt.
(coughs, burps)
(burps)
Get Mortars for me, Colt.
(# tough rock)
Give it up, Mortars! You're only makir things worse!
It's over! The jig is up! The Rubicon is crossed!
(cocks pistol) Getting sloppy, son.
Well, it was still sound advice.
- (cocks pistol) Drop the gun, General. - Luger! You came.
(whispers) That's personal. But what's important is I'm here.
Shoot him, partner. Shoot him, shoot him, shoot him!
(laughs) You can't shoot me. You're a cop. You have to play it by the book.
Go ahead, Sergeant. Shoot me.
Sometimes, General...
...you make the rules up as you go.
(groans) Just kidding.
(machine-gun fire)
Nothir like a good smoke after you've blown someone away. D'you mind?
- Yeah. - You're right. They're dangerous.
- Looks like you missed the fireworks! - Wrong! We're just in time!
(explosions, rockets whistle)
- So you're a couple of superheroes, huh? - We got the bad guys, Cap'.
Yeah, and you almost got yourself killed!
Wish I had more men like you.
Look. Would you reconsider that retirement?
(sighs)
Only if Colt's my partner.
- I think it can be arranged. - Thanks, Cap'.
(together) Sequel.
(together) I'm driving.
- Who's driving? - I'm driving.
- /'m driving!
OK.
Y'know, I feel like I'm forgetting something back there.
- Destiny! Claire! - That's it.
We're here, Colt.
Destiny, Claire... you're all right!
Me too, in case you have the sensitivity to care(!)
I know you're uncomfortable with me...
...but don't worry, I grow on you. Kinda like a rash.
# Let me go. Bee/zebub
# Has a devi/ put aside for me-e-e For me-e-e
- # For meeeee... - (barks)
- (# rock guitar) - (yelps and growls)
# So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye
# So you think you can /ove me and /eave me to die
# Oh... #
(# Freddie Mercury: Love Ki//s)
# Love don't give no compensation
# Love don't pay no bi//s
# Love don't give no indication
# Love just won't stand sti//
# Love ki//s
# Dri//s you through your heart
# Love ki//s
# Scars you from the start
# (rushing echo) Love ki//s
# Love ki//s
# Love don't take no reservations
# Love is no square dea/
# Hey, /ove don't give no justification
# /t strikes /ike co/d stee/
# Love ki//s
# Dri//s you through your heart
# Love ki//s
# Scars you from the start
# /t's just a /iving pastime
# Burning your /ife/ine
# Gives you a hard time, won't /et you go
# Cos /ove (/ove) /ove (/ove)
# Love won't /eave you a/one Yeah
# Hey, /ove can p/ay with your emotions
# Open invitation to your heart
# Hey, /ove ki//s
# P/ay with your emotions An open invitation to your heart
# Hey, /ove ki//s
# (echoes) Love ki//s
# Love, /ove, /ove, /ove
# Love ki//s Hey!
# Dri//s you through your heart
# Love ki//s
# Scars you from the start
# /t's just a /iving pastime
# Ruining your heart/ine
# Wort /et you go
# Love ki//s
# Dri//s you through your heart
# Love ki//s
# Tears you right apart
# /t won't /et go
# /t won't /et go, oh
# Love ki//s
# (soprano) Ooh, ooh
# Ooh-ooh, ooh
# Ooh-ooh, ooh... #
(# heavy rock)
Subtitles by Kidrah