I don't like it a damn bit.
If you had the brain of a titmouse. You wouldn't be doing it.
But. Ma. I love him. And he loves me.
Hell! You try paying the rent and buying groceries on love.
But we can live with his folks. Mama. Until he gets a job.
And spend your whole damn life on relief!
Shit! Fire! One more time. Mama.
(engine starts)
- Haul ass. Mama. Or we're gonna be late. - Stop using that kind of language.
I try to teach you manners. Look at you.
Sitting with your underpants showing and holding a damn doll.
Dumb enough to marry Charlie Johnson
with a stiff on and not ten cents in his pockets.
I'll marry a rich man. Mama. He'll die and I'll get his money.
Keep your legs together. Billy Jean. And shut up. I'll tell you when to get married.
(church bells)
- Uncle Barney. Won't you get caught? - Nah.
I'll run that over to Waco and make about 400 bucks.
Well. I've got something for the little bride.
Course. You gonna be getting something else a little later on tonight!
It's more than you'll be getting. Barney.
Mama...
Here.
I'll hold it for you. Honey.
- Hi. Charlie. - Hi. Polly.
Oh. God. I hate to see it happen. Barney.
You should've come to me after old Ben died. Wilma.
Come on up here and meet the father and mother of the lucky bride.
Hello. Hello. Preacher.
- Today's the day. - Yep. Tonight's the night.
You need somebody to help you with the chores.
Come on now. Wilma. Honey. Everything's gonna be all right.
Get your hand off my tit. Barney.
Uncle Barney.
Was you trying to feel up my mama?
Billy Jean. I'm surprised at a little girl like you asking.
I'm not that little.
Polly. She's getting married and she ain't even done it yet - like me.
# Love divine. All love excelling
# Joy of heav'n to earth come down
# Fix in us thy humble dwelling
# All thy faithful mercies crown
# Jesus. Thou art all compassion
# Pure. Unbounded love thou art
# Visit us with thy salvation
# Enter every trembling heart
Now let us bow our heads in gratitude for the blessings He has spread amongst us.
(mouths)
Amen.
Now. Who giveth away the groom?
And who giveth away the bride?
Dearly beloved.
We are gathered here today
to join this man and this woman
in holy wedlock.
Now. If there be anybody who has just cause
why these two should not lawfully be joined together.
- (thunder) - Let him step forth now
- or forever keep their peace. - I step forth!
- Will the bride and groom join hands... - Goddammit!
I can show just cause why this should not be going on.
- Woman! What are you doing? - Dearly beloved...
Nobody ought to spend their whole damn lives being so poor
there's nothing but dirty dishes and dirty kids and no hope to do nothing but starve!
Will you shut up? You ain't getting married. Your daughter is.
Take your goddamn hands off me. Fred Johnson. You jackass.
I don't give my goddamn consent. And that's final!
That's goddamn blasphemy in the eyes of the Lord!
You wanted to get married. What's your mama yelling about?
- Let go of my sister! - Don't you go shoving my boy!
A woman like you needs a beating.
- Lay a finger on me. I'll shove it up your... - It's sacrilege in the house of the Lord!
This ain't no pigpen! This is the house of the Lord!
So. Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman...
in holy wedlock!
Stop profaning in the house of the Lord!
Wilma. The Lord don't take kindly to beating up his menfolk!
Go get yourself a drink. Son. You need it.
- Where are we going. Mama? - Anywhere but East Texas!
(preacher) Back into church!
Will you get the hell back into church?! I ain't even passed the collection plate!
Get your damned hands off me. You old bag!
- (screaming) - (car horn)
We'll make a few drops and then we'll hit the big time. The bright lights - Waco.
Spend some of that dishonest money I got burning a hole in my pants.
That ain't all you got burning in your pants.
(honking)
(drunkenly) Wilma. You're the best-looking bootlegger I've ever... (laughs)
I've ever seen!
- Barney ain't coming through here. - The hell he ain't.
Them damn tips you get ain't worth diddly shit.
The hell they ain't.
- We'll be here till hell freezes over. - Like hell we will.
(distant rumble)
- You hear something? - Hell. Yeah.
(tires screeching)
He's riding low. Let's go.
- (Barney) Whoo! - Oops.
Goddamn. Old Barney's got a snootful.
- Ma. What's that? - (Barney) Oh. God! The feds!
- What? - Goddamn law!
- What'll we do now? - Stop 'em.
Hot damn!
- Pull over! - Like hell I will!
Goddammit. Lady! Pull over!
Stop chasing us. You damn fools! We're going on a picnic!
- Pull over. Lady. Or I'll shoot! - No! Please don't! Please don't!
- Pull over. Lady! - Can't stop! No brakes!
Block her off. She's a damn liar.
- Ohh! - Oh. No!
(Barney) Yeah.
- Don't stop now. Mama. - He's... he's dying!
God rest his soul.
You sure had balls. Barney.
Wait.
No use burying a good ruby ring.
God rest your soul.
(sobbing)
Amen.
(sobbing)
Somebody got to make the deliveries. Miss Wilma.
Can't make no money sitting around here.
You got the names and addresses?
Sure do.
How do I look?
Like a boy.
You dead sure you wanna do this. Miss Wilma?
Damn right. There's money in it. Ain't there?
Yeah. And miseries too.
Poor Mr. Barney.
- Come on. Let's get going. Girls. - Mama. Can I have my dress cleaned?
I don't want nothing to happen to it.
Sure you can. Baby. Come on.
Suppose Uncle Barney's customers ask who we are.
We'll say Barney's sick. And meanwhile he needs the money. So we gotta collect.
In business. You gotta think big or you gotta think fast.
"Diamond Jim" Brady said that. And. By God. We're gonna start doing it.
You girls wait here. This is a sporting house and I don't want you to see it.
- Mama. What's a sporting house? - Never you mind.
It's for screwing. Same as you was gonna do getting married.
(dog barking)
Wilma McClatchie. Delivering for Barney.
Just dropping off a little something for the party.
Why. Thank you. Miss McClatchie. Let's see what you got there.
- This here's Barney's finest. - Do you know what this is?
Work of the devil. Satan's own brew.
We fought to bring in Prohibition
and. By God. Here it comes in again sneaking in the back door!
Get off me. You old battle-ax.
Hey. Lady. That's the wrong house. This is for us.
I'll have the sheriff on you!
The road to damnation is paved with them whiskey bottles!
Must be hell on tires.
(ragtime music playing)
Come on in!
Quit fooling around. Barney! Come on in! We don't have that much time!
- Where's Barney? - Uh... He had to go to Waco on business.
Well. Here's the money.
Sorry I couldn't help you. We could send Wesley. The colored man. Over.
(grunts)
Um... Uncle Barney told me to come and for you to give me the money.
Do what?!
- For this. - Well. My pa ain't home.
Darn. Mama's gonna be mad if I don't collect.
Wait. I got some money.
But you gotta let me sample the merchandise first.
Well... OK.
Come on in.
One more stop. Then we'll go get Polly.
I've seen horses do it lots of times.
They was real big.
I ain't that big.
Say. Why don't you slip off your shirt and loosen your suspenders?
Make yourself at home.
I will if you will.
I was gonna get married. Mama wouldn't let me.
- Oh! - What the hell?
H-Hello. Pa.
(buzzing)
Jelly roll's my favorite.
This little lady was found with an underage boy and bootleg whiskey.
That's a federal offense and a state offense.
Course. I can only help you with the... state part.
I've tried to raise my little girl right.
I've tried to live a normal life. God knows. Billy Jean'll tell you.
But the truth is. My poor little girl had nothing to do with bootleg whiskey.
Except being drunk. Disorderly and selling the stuff.
Well. You see. She's retarded.
You wouldn't believe it to look at her - the face of an angel. The body of a woman.
- (buzzing) - But... out in here.
Lady. I find that hard to believe.
So. When you say that she was selling whiskey.
I can understand anybody making that kind of a mistake.
And she bit one of my officers too. That's 120 days right there.
Billy Jean. I told you we never should've left her in that car alone.
(buzzing)
All right. You can go now. Get the hell out of my office.
Come on. Polly. Billy Jean. Help your sister fix her clothes.
- What are we gonna do now. Mama? - Get the hell out of here.
Got to get to California and make a whole new life.
We made all that money before you had to pay that jackass.
Couldn't we go get another load of whiskey?
No.
There's better ways. And I'm gonna find 'em.
We're not gonna starve.
Ain't you afraid. Mama?
No. Baby. I ain't.
Nothing is gonna hurt us.
Not while I got this.
- Mama... - Mm-hm?
Will we be getting us an orange grove when we get to California?
Sure. Baby. That. Or a little business of our own right near the ocean.
Could I get some pretty dresses. Mama?
Sure. Baby.
(firecrackers explode)
(klaxon)
(band plays military march)
You gals wanna make $5 apiece today dancing for the smoker?
Come on around this afternoon. Y'all can make some money on the side. Too.
You mean. Me and Polly can make $5 for dancing?
You certainly cannot.
I've heard stories about those veterans. Most of 'em got a dose of the Old Joe.
What's that. Mama?
Disease of the privates.
- Mama. Can we watch the parade? - Watch the car till I get through at the cafe.
(firecrackers exploding)
Pick up. Beef stew special.
All right. I'm coming.
Not even enough for gas.
OK. Sister. Where's my hamburger steak and onions?
Ask Hoover. He started this mess. I didn't.
Hmm. Heavy spender.
You're lucky to get it. Sister. A lot of people aren't even working for tips.
All right. Gals. Strut your stuff.
What do you want us to do?
Why. Just your regular routine. Honey. And the job's yours.
- Go on. Sam. - (piano intro)
(# "Yellow~ Rose of Texas" honky-tonk style)
Whoo-whee! Look at the knockers on that little blonde.
What are you doing - playing with yourself?
You're hired. Gals.
Take a few bucks from the kitty. Buy something you can strip out of easier.
Take your time. Roll your stockings down real slow in front of that chairman's table.
Let me tell you. My friends and fellow Americans.
The threat of socialism is like a snake in the parlor - there's no room for it.
The only "ism" under the red. White and blue is Americanism.
Free enterprise. In God we trust.
And let's stop the New Deal before it gives the country away to them foreigners.
- (man) Bring on the dancing girls! - OK. Here they are. Boys.
Miss America. Miss Texas and Miss Sweetwater!
Come on. Boys. Give the girls a welcome.
(cheering and w~histling)
(# pianist plays "Yellow~ Rose of Texas")
(cheering)
(cheering and w~histling)
(w~hooping)
(barks like a dog)
(row~dy cheering and w~histling)
(w~histling)
Hey. Laddie. Take it off!
You're a disgrace - all of you!
Drinking and gambling! Kidnapping my innocent daughters and corrupting them!
- Come on. Girls! - Now. Just a minute. Ma'am.
- They walked in here of their own free will. - The hell they did.
Now. It's just all good. Clean fun. Ma'am.
Then you're gonna pay for your fun.
By God. A mother's still got some rights in this country.
Hey! You can't do that.
The hell I can't.
I'm defending my little girls' honor.
Don't you shoot my mama!
Aarghh!
Come on. Baby.
(# "Yellow~ Rose of Texas" playing jauntily on piano)
Damn the both of you.
Sneaking off. Doing a thing like that.
- Come on! We got some money! - Worrying me half to death looking for you.
I thought I was gonna be in my birthday suit!
We're rich. Mama! We're rich!
- Sounds like the same woman to me. - Sure does.
- Wilma McClatchie. - That's her.
She'll be sad when I get through with her.
Look at the license plate. '31 Chrysler. 44J 109.
Put that on the telegraph. See that every officer in the state gets a description.
Dodds.
Sheriff.
Whoo-whee!
This is the most fun I ever had. Mama!
We ain't ever gonna be poor again. I swear to God.
- (girls gasp) - A nice. Cute little dress...
- Billy Jean... - (squeals)
You get in that car.
Polly. Take that.
(man) Welcome. Brothers and sisters. To the Lord's holy mission to California...
- Can you fix it. Billy Jean? - I don't know. It threw a rod or something.
Hey. Look at that. Mama.
In the holy light of God's word: Give.
- How much money we got left? - Not enough for another car.
Uncle Barney left us with a lemon. What are we gonna do?
Can we go with them. Mama?
Get the bags.
I think it's time we got converted.
(group) #... Christian soldiers
# Marching as to war
# With the cross of Jesus
# Going on before
# Christ. The royal master...
Welcome. Sister. Welcome to God's holy California crusade.
(man preaches)
- If you're on the bread line. Give thanks. - (all) Hallelujah.
If you're on the soup line. Give thanks. Praise God. Hallelujah.
If the bank forecloses on your little home. Give thanks. Praise God. Hallelujah.
The Lord. He moves in mysterious ways.
Bless you. Sister.
Be you redeemed. Be redeemed.
And do you pledge all your worldly goods to God's holy California crusade?
Praise God. I do.
(grunts)
(group) Amen!
Oh. Praise God. Sister.
God love you.
Praise God. Sweet Jesus.
(w~hispers) Hurry. For Christ's sake.
Hallelujah.
This is my prodigal daughter. Returned to me by the grace of God.
- Fallen into evil ways... - (murmurs of sympathy)
...giving in to the sins of lust. Breaking her poor mother's heart.
- Amen! - (all) Amen!
"For the Lord is our shepherd. We shall not want.
"He maketh us to lie down in green pastures.
"He leadeth us beside the still waters.
"He restoreth our soul."
- Heal. Heal! - I believe.
- I believe! - Heal! Heal. Sweet Jesus!
Jesus. Heal this sinner.
O Jesus. Descend on him.
We're looking for a woman. About 35. two daughters.
Dodds. Leave that man alone.
Preacher. Have you seen her? Where are you going? I wanna talk to you.
- God bless you. Son. - Preacher. I wanna talk to you.
Hey. I got some money for you. Preacher!
She's here. Dammit! I know it! Hey. Preacher!
(engine struggles to start)
Bless you. Sister. Let the spirit and the feeling rise within you.
Hey. Dodds. D'you see her in there? Dammit. D'you see her?
I'd like to discuss baptizing you later. Sister.
# Holy. Holy. Holy
# Lord God Almighty
# Early in the morning
- Come on. Girls. - # Our song shall rise to thee
# Holy. Holy. Holy
# Merciful and mighty
# God in three persons...
Well. Praise God.
Sister. Why aren't you at the baptism? I don't understand.
Reverend. I've had all the dunking I need.
In the back.
Stop! Please!
Oh. No!
Good afternoon. Ma'am. How long will you be staying?
(classy accent) Uh... A few days. I'm combining pleasure with business.
Mrs. Wilma. Uh... Farrington. Fort Worth. Texas.
Thank you.
(classy accent) I would like two club sandwiches. One chocolate milk shake
- and one Coke. - Ice!
- With lots of ice. - Yes. Ma'am.
And. Boy! Would you bring us some more towels for my sister?
- (classy accent) Very good! - (laughs) Oh. Boy! I love hotels!
- No beds to make and no dishes to do. - Amen!
- Do you think the law's still looking for us? - Don't you worry about that.
We're going to California and start us a new life.
Then Polly'd better go on a diet and get ready to marry one of them rich men.
- (giggling) - Stop it. Billy! Please!
(Billy Jean squeals and laughs)
Dammit! It's me and Charlie's anniversary! We would've been married a week.
There's got to be a way somehow.
- Now stop it. Leave your sister alone. - You're always sticking up for her.
Now stop it. The both of you. Or I'll give you both a good swat.
Ah!
There it is - the down payment on our California beach house!
Mama. Aren't they gonna know what you're doing?
We need it more than they do. Honey.
Mama...
Uh. Good morning. Young man. I'd like to cash a check.
Why. Certainly. Ma'am. Do you have an account with us?
I am Mrs. Wilma Farrington of the Fort Worth Farringtons.
10s and 20s will be fine.
Hello. Everybody. Fred Diller is here.
- Hey. Wait a minute! - Back up!
Hurry it up. Charles.
(alarm)
Get the money!
(screaming)
Wait a minute - that's my money. Dammit!
Hey. Follow her! She's got the money!
(klaxon)
What the hell are you doing in my car?
And what the hell are you doing robbing my bank. Lady?
It's like John D. Rockefeller said:
You gotta grasp the dynamics of money and keep the currency on the move.
- What? - There's hundreds and thousands in here.
Looks like you and me are partners. Lady.
No. We ain't. Put the money away.
We'll give him one fourth later.
- (gun clicks) - Wait a minute.
This lady. Wilma... Farrington.
All of a sudden she swings her purse and like to knock my brains out.
I was shooting at one of the robbers when she come at me.
Her daughter helping her. Clawing and yelling.
Hey. Is that the woman?
Why. Yeah. But she was... fixed up better.
- That's Wilma McClatchie. Come on. - Hey. You want this?
Now we got her!
- Makes her an accessory to homicide now. - Yep.
- Sure like to throw one into that little one. - Maybe you will.
- Maybe I will. - Let's go.
Is that it. Mama?
(screams)
- Uh... I don't think so. - (Billy Jean laughs)
(both groan)
Well. You're all right at disguising cars. What else can you do?
Me and Clyde Barrow done a bank in Oklahoma.
Try anything in my line of work. I think you'll be satisfied.
Didn't look like much. What I seen today.
Maybe you ain't seen everything.
- I'll bet. - What did you mean by that. Mama?
Never mind. Little girl. Your pretty mama'll understand.
OK. Let's hear why you think I oughta let you go along with Polly. Billy Jean and me.
We're doing all right. We don't need you.
I'm gonna be honest with you. Wilma. And lay it on the line.
Like it or not. You're in the bank-robbing business. And you can't back out now.
Who says I want to?
Well. You got guts. Honey.
But sooner or later. Somebody's gonna find out a gang of women are taking 'em.
And you're gonna be in a lot of trouble.
Looked to me like you was the one in trouble today.
Maybe. But I done it and I seen it done with the best of 'em.
And you'd be a damn fool if you turn me down. Wilma.
I'll think about taking you on.
Might find a use for you.
Look. Ain't these pretty?
I found a whole bunch of stuff upstairs. We could really fix this place up.
Don't bother. We ain't staying long.
(cock crow~s)
Hey. Maybe Mama'd get me a sewing machine.
Did you go in and tell 'em breakfast is on the table?
Yeah. They didn't answer.
Damn! Are they gonna do it all night and all day?
- Jealous? - I am not.
- You are so. - I am not!
(cock crow~s)
I just might go to Hollywood and be in the movies or something.
Look at this picture of Harlow.
Hi. Honey.
- Sleep good? - (chuckles suggestively)
What's the matter with her?
I wish my titties wasn't so damn little.
Boy. This stuff is really sticky.
Diller'd better pay attention now. Mama ain't the only one that's pretty here.
You shouldn't say that. Billy Jean. He's Mama's boyfriend.
Would you get the cold cream from the bedroom?
(door)
- (grow~ls) - (Polly gasps and w~himpers)
(Billy Jean) What's the matter. Polly?
(Polly sobs)
Aw! You all right?
Shit.
Son of a bitch! My money!
(gunshot)
Shit. Wilma. You don't give a guy a chance.
He was taking my money. Wasn't he?
It's private property. I got a right to defend it.
- Don't I? - Yeah. But... Shit.
Come on. Billy Jean. Get yourself dressed.
Look...
(track announcer) Good afternoon. Ladies and gentlemen.
The runners are now~ out for the first race.
In the first race. If you turn to your programs...
- Wait here. I'm gonna do some betting. - Hey. Pick me a winner. Honey.
(horse w~hinnies)
Oh! I beg your pardon. Allow me.
Why. Thank you.
It's seldom I have the pleasure of seeing such a lovely lady as you.
And I commit a social blunder.
Oh. It wasn't your fault. I guess I was hurrying to get my bet down.
Allow me to introduce myself. William J. Baxter. Louisville. Kentucky.
Wilma McClatchie. Uh. Fort Worth.
It would be an honor if you'd allow me to escort you to the betting window.
Why. Thank you.
Who's that?
It would give me a great deal of pleasure if you'd allow me to place a bet for you.
Why. I couldn't let you do that. Mr. Baxter.
You've already been kind enough to give me your selections.
There's one slight problem. However. I need to cash a check.
- You want to cash a check? - Mmm.
Louisville Baxters. My funds are at our local bank.
Suppose I just... make my own bets.
A hundred to win on Good Times. And a hundred to place on Daisy Girl?
- Sounds fine. - (starting bugle)
Mama sure knows how to pick 'em.
Jealous?
Hell. No.
(starter's pistol)
Come on! Let's go. Let's go!
You gonna let us in on what you're figuring?
I ain't figuring... I ain't figuring nothing.
Just figuring how Mama got herself another boyfriend.
- You can have me and Polly. - He can not!
(commentator) It's Daisy Girl in front. Make Sure's in second.
And here comes Good Times on the outside.
Daisy Girl and Good Times nose and nose.
- And it's Good Times. Daisy Girl second... - (crow~d roars)
(w~hooping) I won! I won! I won!
Good Times - couldn't be a better name for a horse.
And you picked him. Baxter. That's over $600.
- Yeah. - I wanna give you $100.
No. Mrs. McClatchie. I couldn't accept that.
Don't fool an old-timer. Baxter. You're broke. Aren't you?
Well. I do have a... temporary embarrassment of funds. Mrs. McClatchie.
I knew it.
Come on. Let's cash in. And the name's Wilma.
- (Baxter) Coming through. - (Wilma) Excuse me.
This here's Mr. Baxter.
These are my daughters. Polly and Billy Jean.
That's Diller.
Mama. Can I have some money to bet?
Honey. Aren't you gonna shake hands with Mr. Baxter and say hello?
He's kindly consented to have dinner with us this evening.
- Uh. Iook. Wilma... - Could I have some money to bet too?
Why. Sure. Honey. Might as well go enjoy yourself.
We just might be getting it back.
- Mama! - Oh. Sure. Honey.
(starter's pistol)
- Come on. Big Mama! - Wilma!
- Which one is Big Mama? - What?
(commentator) Big Mama gets through to the front.
And it's Big Mama in front.
- We picked him again! I love a winner! - You're the one. Wilma.
- Son of a bitch. - Don't worry about him.
(racing commentary continues)
Sit tight. We'll be right back.
(distinctive knocking)
(racing commentary on radio)
All right.
Aw. Shit. Wilma!
(Diller groans w~ith pain)
(racing commentary continues)
- Hurry it up. - Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.
Fred Diller.
Mr. Diller.
(w~omen gasp)
Y'all have trouble cashing a check?
Oh. Shit. Mama!
- Jesus Christ. - Take it easy.
(moaning)
Wilma...
(Baxter) Oh. Wilma... Goddamn!
Come here. I wanna talk to you. Come here.
Goddamn... Kentucky fruitcake.
Who needs... Who needs him anyhow?
- What difference should it make to you? - It don't.
- It shouldn't make any difference to you. - Goddamn...
Kentucky fruitcake... son of a bitch.
Well...
- Oh... Hey. - Mmm... What?
(Billy Jean giggles)
(yells w~ith mock anger)
(screams)
(Wilma clears her throat)
- "Fred Diller. About 5 feet 8 inches..." - Six feet!
"...is believed to have worked with 'Pretty Boy' Floyd.
"Diller is now apparently masterminding his own series of bold strikes...
- (Polly squeals) - "Bold strikes"!
"...in New Mexico and Arizona."
Huh! "Masterminding."
(giggling)
I'm proud of my girls.
It's the one thing in my life I'm most proud of.
They're very charming young ladies.
What's wrong with her?
She's lonely.
- Who? - Polly. Stupid!
She's your sister.
(Billy Jean giggles)
(w~hispers)
(giggling)
Well. Well. Well. Well...
(girls laugh)
(Billy Jean squeals)
Why can't we be right up there with Ford. Rockefeller. Capone. And the rest of 'em?
Wilma. If you'd stake me to $5.000.
I could walk right into Louisville and clear the way for us - no questions asked.
If we could just go off by ourselves. We could rob banks just as good. Couldn't we?
I don't need anybody. Me and Ettinger done all right by ourselves.
Yeah. But he got shot.
We could double our money in three months. All it takes is that first capital.
- Here. Mama. - Thank you. Honey.
I'll get some more. Mama.
Baxter. You got more moneymaking schemes than a damn politician.
And I went to school with the governor. (chuckles)
I could pave the way. We could go into business.
We ain't buying land in Kentucky and we ain't buying no phony stock.
Put 'em back there. Billy Jean.
I'd rather have a little house. Wouldn't you?
Don't matter to me as long as it ain't me mopping the floor.
No. I mean if you was married - really married. With children and everything.
- It'd be nicer in a little house. - I don't trust that peckerhead.
Hey. You! Get the hell out of my orange grove or I'll...
You crazy son of a bitch! You'll hurt somebody!
I love California!
There it is - Atlas Oil. Biggest refinery in the state.
I don't like it. Wilma.
The secret of my success is I never pull the same job twice.
I'm against hitting another bank.
For Christ's sake. Wilma! Why don't we do something we know?
She's right. Diller. You may not be aware...
Shit. Baxter. You don't know your ass from a hole in the ground. So just shut up!
Diller...
After this oil-company job. I'm thinking of taking a trip.
And you'd better not come along.
If that's the way you feel about it. Wilma. Better see about your goddamn oil job.
What's wrong. Polly? Is it something I said?
- No. - Then what's wrong?
Billy Jean. I don't think Diller is coming back.
Don't worry. Diller is coming back.
Billy Jean. Do you love him? I mean. Really?
- I don't know. What do you mean. "really"? - I'm gonna have a baby.
Damn you. Polly!
I mean. I share Diller with you. And you get knocked up!
I'm sorry. Billy Jean. I really am. But I want a baby.
- Mama's gonna kill you. - I know.
I don't know what Diller's gonna say.
- When are you gonna tell him? - I don't know.
I'm scared about tomorrow. Are you scared?
Nah.
Mama planned it. Everything will be OK. OK?
Are you OK?
(klaxon)
Where the hell is he?
I could use some coffee.
It's 12:30. Lunch is late again.
How long does it take to boil mud?
Mama's Lunches. Sandwiches. Doughnuts. Fresh coffee.
- Compliments of Mama's Lunches. - Why. Thank you. Little lady.
OK. Boys. You're gonna take a long lunch today.
Turn around. Mister. And never trust a girl giving her doughnuts away for free.
Hot damn. Wilma.
Oh!
Hurry! There's a holdup! There's a holdup!
(Polly squeals)
Hey. Wait! Hey. Wait! Wait for me!
- God! - (Polly sobs hysterically)
- My God! - Here. Honey.
All right.
God! It's all my fault.
All my fault.
It's all right. Baby. It's all right. It's OK.
It's all my fault.
Mama. Polly's gonna have a baby.
(mouthing)
(Polly continues sobbing)
You bastard.
I just wanted you. Wilma.
Not now. Baxter. OK? Not now.
Honey. Couldn't you call me Bill?
Hmm?
"Baxter" sounds like I'm a stranger or something.
I'm gonna make it good for you. Wilma. I promise. You know I love you.
Hot damn.
No. Not now.
- Ha! - Whoo-hoo!
Right!
Whoo-hoo!
Come on.
Ready...
Uh...
I'm trying to make a shot. Wilma.
You made a shot all right. When you got my little girl pregnant.
- You gonna start on that again? - Yeah. I'm gonna start on that again.
- D'you want me to marry both of 'em? - I don't want my baby's child illegitimate.
- Then I'll marry her. Dammit! - I don't want him to!
What kind of a husband would he be. Sleeping with my sister?
- Look. You two started it! - All right. Stop it!
We're all a family. The only problem is. We want Polly's baby born with a proper name.
Then have her marry pie-face there!
You shouldn't have done that. Wilma.
You shouldn't have done that.
(snoring)
Sorry about what I did last night.
Aw. It's OK. We were both steamed up.
We can't let personal stuff get in the way of business.
No. We damn sure can't do that.
This time we're gonna step out in society. That's where my girls belong.
Right up there with the rich folks.
I gotta hand it to you. Wilma. This is the best idea since. Uh...
Come on. Diller.
Imagine that - my babies right up there with all the high society.
- Are you with the musicians. Sir? - Yeah. I'm the fender.
Oh. Yes. All my family is in oil.
Part in Texas and part in Oklahoma.
What a lovely thing! How you must adore it.
- Here's your drink. - Ah. I could drink this stuff all day long.
It must be a lot of work. Keeping up a place like this.
It is indeed. The biggest problem are the servants.
All they want to do is try and steal things from you.
It's terrible what some people will do.
I'll bet you know just about everybody and everything.
Well. Young lady. One thing for sure -
that man won't be in the White House for long.
Raising taxes. Making it hard on the better-class people.
Tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk.
One shot. If you can. Thank you.
- Here. Gentlemen. Are you in? - (men murmuring)
Am I dealing?
- Everybody in? - Yeah.
(Diller w~histles a tune)
I'll try. Miss Kingston.
The only problem is that the trust fund won't release more than a million.
A million?! What about all the rest of it? Grandpa Henry willed that to me!
I'm sorry. That's just the way it was set up.
Damn!
It's OK out back.
- Hi! - Hi!
- Hello! - Oh. Hello.
You must have known Miss Kingston a long time.
Mmm. Yes. I've been the family lawyer for about ten years.
An only child. You know.
So I wanted to ask Walter to a dock party my daddy's giving.
- We're going to cruise to Catalina. - Oh. Really?
(Miss Kingston) Doctor! How are you?
One. And I'll bid...
The party's over. Folks.
All right. Just empty your pockets and take off your jewels and we'll stay friends.
And I'm a woman who likes lots of friends.
OK. Come on. Come on. Hurry. Let's go.
Come on!
- Take 'em off. - Come on. Move it!
Thank you. Thank you.
I beg your pardon. I beg your pardon. I beg your pardon. Sir.
Thank you.
(dog barks)
Son of a bitch.
Why don't we just stick these bastards up. Huh?
We're going for a million bucks hard cash. And we're set for life.
A million bucks?
Oh. Good serve. Jane!
Oh! Good shot. Jane!
- Good game. Jane. - Fudge!
(muffled screams)
Hey!
How do we know she's really rich?
Don't worry. Her old man stole half the land in California.
Ignoramus! Didn't anybody ever tell you? Money isn't everything.
Only people like you. With a guaranteed income.
You'll never get away with this. My father's a lot smarter than you think.
God. That's cheap perfume you're wearing. You shouldn't use so much.
Ow!
(door opens)
Feed her. Then gag her.
Here's some food. Honey.
Would you please untie my hands? I can't eat if my hands are tied.
What are you doing?!
I just never. Uh... felt the titties of a millionaire before.
You haven't heard anything. Mr. Kingston? Not a word?
No. I expected a ransom note from the kidnappers. A phone call or something.
This'll have a terrible effect on Kingston Industries.
- What do you mean? - It just encourages the unions.
- Everyone's after more money nowadays. - Oh. My poor little Jane!
She was such a model child. The dearest thing a mother could have.
This is her picture.
(sighs melodramatically)
The kidnap of heiress Jane Kingston has set off manhunts in three states.
Federal agent William Bonney...
(Wilma) Polly. Billy Jean. We gotta make that phone call.
...Wilma McClatchie of East Texas.
Fingerprints found at a previous robbery have also linked Fred Diller to the gang.
- Wilma. Can I talk to you for a minute? - Sure. Go ahead.
- It's not gonna work. - What do you mean? I got my plan.
Did you hear the radio? The police in three states are looking for that girl.
Fingerprints were found - Diller's. There's no chance we'll get away with it.
- Why not? - Because they got his record.
They know who you are. It's all on the radio!
- Then what do you think we oughta do? - Split up.
You and me. Diller and the girls. It's our only chance.
Aw. Listen. Wilma. This isn't my style - this kidnapping. Guns.
I-I-I'm used to other things. Better things. And I can teach them to you.
Honey. I love you.
- And with you behind me... - Baxter.
You're a cowardly. No-good son of a bitch.
Wilma!
Don't you do nothing till I get back.
Wilma?
(engine starts)
If you ever want to see her again in one piece. You'll bring the million like I said.
Y-Yes. Yes.
Tomorrow morning?
And you'll let her go in 24 hours if I bring the money?
That's right. She'll be out in the desert.
Now. If you try any funny stuff and go to the cops.
Somebody'd better order a first-class cemetery plot for you and the little girl.
'Cause you'll need it. (dial tone)
It's all set. He's got the money. He's gonna bring it tomorrow.
Look what I'm making for the baby. Mama.
Think he'll tell the cops?
I told him we'd shoot Little Miss Precious if any one of 'em comes within a mile of us.
- Are we going back now. Mama? - No. Got some double-checking to do.
Make sure they don't pull any fast ones on us.
(Jane) I've got to go to the bathroom! Please? One of you?
Go ahead. Colonel.
Go ahead yourself.
(Diller scoffs)
Think you're smart? I'll flatten that nose on your face.
(Jane) I have to go to the bathroom!
You're the stupid kidnapper. I don't want any more to do with it.
You're in this right along with me. Mister.
If you try to back out now. I'm gonna put a.45 in your ass.
You hear me?
- You would. Wouldn't you? - You bet your ass I would.
And you better move.
God... damn... it!
I'm gonna fight you. Diller.
I'm gonna show you. Come on!
I was Louisville College boxing champ. Boy.
You illiterate. Uneducated bastard!
Come on! Come on and fight! Come on!
I won the light heavyweight. Come on!
- Move. - Come on!
- Thank you. - That's all right. Honey.
I'm sorry to bother you.
That's OK. You gotta do it like anybody else.
- Mm. That's nice perfume you're wearing. - Uh. Thank you.
Um... Would you do something for me?
- Yeah. What? - Would you give me a bath?
Would you let me take a bath? I haven't had a chance to get clean yet and...
well. You could soap my body.
You... uh... You want me to...
- You sure you want me to do that? - Please.
Agh! Ooh!
(Jane gasps)
(Jane screams)
You dumb son of a bitch!
- I oughta shoot you. - Yeah. Shoot him!
No! My baby! Please! Mama. I love him!
- Where the hell was Baxter? - He's gone. Ran out.
You can shoot me if you want to.
(sighs)
(car approaches)
(Bonney) Grab him. Dodds.
You're under arrest. Hold it right there. Don't move.
We're like a family. We've always been a family.
Play the ace.
They'll have the money for us tomorrow. Then we gotta get the hell outta here.
But. Mama. I like it here. Where will we go?
Paris. France - one of those places. You'll like it. Honey.
- I'm tired. How about you girls? - (yaw~ns) Uh-huh.
What about you?
Oh. I'll just stay down here and watch awhile.
Suit yourself.
(cock crow~s)
Polly. Where's Mama?
Mama!
Um...
He's here with the money.
Hello?
Hello!
I-I'm here!
Hold it right there. Mister.
- You got the money? - Oh. Oh... oh. Y-yes.
It's right here. See? It's all there.
- Are you sure nobody followed you here? - Oh. No. Ma'am. Gosh. No.
I wouldn't do a thing like that. No. No.
- Leave it there and get. - (police siren)
It's the cops!
Oh. My God!
Spread out and surround 'em!
Get the car.
(Jane screams)
(shooting stops)
Look at them sons of bitches.
Ain't that something.
You bastard. You fruitcake bastard.
(Jane screams)
(screams)
Aaarghhh!
(klaxon)
(car drives off)
- Damn. - You OK?
What happened?
- They ran out. - Where'd she go?
- Come on. Bonney. - Where'd she go?
- Out there. - You let her get away?
- Did you let her get away? - No!
You let her get away! Goddamn! You let her get away! (w~himpers)
We made it. Mama! We made it!
Yeah. Baby. We made it good.
Whoo-whee! We're gonna have everything we ever wanted!
We ain't ever gonna be poor again.
Whoo! (squeals)
- (girls giggling) - (Wilma gasps)
Mama?
Mama!
(hysterically) Mama!
Mama!
Mama! (sobs)