Agenda: Payback Page #4

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that someday

your lying and your cheating

would catch up with you.

You paying him?

I don't understand.

Are you paying him

for time with me?

You paying him money?

Please tell me you're not buying

into this f***ing craziness.

- What craziness is that?

- Oh, come on.

Lot of bad sh*t going on in his

life he f***ing blames me for.

It has f*** all to do with me.

I can't see how he connects

the f***in' dots.

Just wanna do right by him.

Just like you did right by me?

[groans]

- God!

- You used to like that.

Or I thought you did anyway.

You know I like it, baby.

I love that sh*t.

Nobody could ever

fake a dick that hard,

but you know we were always

a temporary thing.

You know that.

I did?

What the f*** you telling me?

Come on.

We're two consenting adults,

and you're f***ing married.

You were never gonna

leave Zach.

Christ.

I guess I just got...

mixed signals.

STEVE:
Yeah.

Yeah.

Memory Lane.

While I'm tied to

this chair, huh?

Memory Lane.

[screams]

You f***ing c*nt!

[groans]

F***ing c*nt!

Because when you said that

we were leaving for Mauritius,

I actually thought

that you meant us!

[Sonia shouts]

[vomits]

You're f***ing insane! God!

No. Insane was thinking

that you actually loved me.

- [stab]

- [groaning]

You know I love you, baby.

Bullshit!

I went to the airport

with ticket in hand

and packed f***ing bags

when your husband sent

some visitors to greet me,

and they beat me

into a f***ing coma,

you f***ing imbecile,

and it took me months

to regain my memory.

God!

[groaning]

Do you still have the money

I gave you?

237 grand,

every f***ing nickel.

That's enough for us

to start a life together.

I don't need

your f***ing money anymore.

I got my own f***ing money.

I always loved you.

Come here, baby, come here.

Let me whisper

something in your ear.

Closer.

We can still do this, sweetie.

We can still have some sand

between our toes and blue ocean.

You like that?

We can do that,

we can do that.

You just, uh...

You just gotta get me

outta here.

That sound like

something you like?

Does that sound like

something you want?

You want that?

Is that what you f***ing want?

- Wh-Why?

- Why?

Let's go with the two

f***ing holes in my legs.

But really, baby,

it's because I've been

serving you platters of cock

that you don't deserve to be

in the same f***ing bed with.

You see, I like you, Sonia,

and you f***ing disgust me

at the same time.

Blame it on my hemorrhaging

Madonna-whore complex.

[mumbles]

Okay, Petey,

where you at, f*ggot?

Oh! Goddamn it!

That's Garvey!

[groans]

[groans]

Oh, buddy,

buddy, buddy, buddy.

Hey there.

You don't look too good,

do you?

Ah, you f***ing c*nt.

Don't go anywhere, huh?

Gonna take out the trash

before this b*tch starts

to stink the place up.

No, no, no,

don't even think about it.

I got this.

You sit tight, all right?

It's the least I could do.

[grunts]

F***ing heavy b*tch.

[grunts]

Come on!

[grunts]

You know,

I'll be honest, Sonia,

and I do think we're at

the point in our relationship

where we can be truthful with

each other, don't you agree?

Good.

Glad we're on the same page.

'Cause the truth is, honey, I...

I was never even gonna meet you

to begin with.

Christ, I didn't even

buy the f***ing ticket.

Which is weird, you know,

'cause I...

actually like you, sweetie.

You know, therapist says

I always destroy

the things I love.

You know,

f***ing therapist says,

I always do damage

to the ones

'cause I'm afraid

of getting hurt,

which would make

perfect sense

if I ever met somebody

that wasn't afraid to get hurt.

F***ing c*nt therapist,

you know?

So I guess I just,

I just...

I just wanna know

if you forgive me for this?

Fair enough. Good talk.

[grunting]

[shouts]

F***!

Where the f***

do you think you're going?

[gunshot]

Oh, sh*t!

[Peter groans]

I think you and me

need to go inside.

Now.

[groans]

Right there.

Sit down before you fall down.

You must be loving this.

Oh, yeah, it's how I love

to spend every weekend.

Now tell me this.

You got anything decent

to drink in this sh*t hole?

Cabinet.

There should be

a bottle of bourbon.

Oh, yeah!

There's my Peter!

Some cheap f***ing garbage,

right?

Why don't you...

Why don't you pour that?

My grip's a little weak

right now.

Right there.

Why don't you shoot me

and get it over with?

Oh, for f***'s sake.

If I wanted you dead,

I wouldn't have shot you

in the goddamn leg.

Pour it.

What's wrong, Peter?

What, are you too good

to have a drink

with your old buddy Steve?

I don't drink.

What if I insist?

There you go now.

You're getting into

the spirit of things, huh?

Salud.

F*** you.

I told you I don't drink.

Ah, yeah.

Well, you see, that's not

what you said downstairs.

See, what you said downstairs,

you said that I drove you

back to the bottle.

That's what you said.

Yeah, but a lot's

happened since then.

- I've changed.

- Oh!

There you go, Saint Peter.

I mean, f***.

Saint Peter I knew, I mean,

he'd never kidnap somebody,

invite people over

to torture 'em.

That would never happen.

Oh, we're not friends.

Semantics.

Tell me this.

What the f***

happened in your life

that brought you here

to this table,

with me holding the cord

over your fate?

What the f*** happened to you?

Estelle.

Ah, yeah.

Daddy's little girl, huh?

Tell me, what'd she do?

She do something naughty?

She get out late?

What'd she do?

[groans]

[laughing]

Me and Joan

were fighting all the time.

Mostly about my drinking.

And she worked all day.

I drank.

Estelle was at the mall

with her friends,

and Joan asked me

to go pick her up.

I knew I shouldn't have

stopped for a drink, but...

I never even saw the stop.

[tires screeching]

She went through the windshield

like a rag doll.

And I held her in my arms.

And I told her everything

was gonna be all right.

But I was lying.

There was too much blood.

I knew everything

wasn't gonna be all right.

She died before the paramedics

even got there.

Why, I'm...

sorry for your loss, Peter,

but f*** you!

And what, that's all...

That's all my fault, huh?

It's my fault you invested

in the film business, huh?

Which requires balls,

you f***ing p*ssy!

It's my fault you bought

into the bullshit?

It's my fault

you didn't listen to me?

It's my fault you believe

in Santa Claus? F*** you!

You're gonna need those.

Sooner or later, I'm gonna need

to use both of my hands.

Forgive me, but I just don't

trust you to cooperate.

[chuckles]

I know. It's my own f***ing

insecurity, right?

Zip tie your ankles.

I hope you don't me

using your minutes.

[ringing]

[ringing continues]

- Rose, baby.

- Oh, f***, baby.

Baby, I was worried to death.

Are you okay? Talk to me.

Yeah, I know

it sounded scary.

No, yeah, misunderstanding.

Listen, I need you

to do me a favor. Can ya?

I need you

to come and pick me up.

Take this down.

Got a pen?

Of course I can, baby.

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