Baby Driver Page #5

Jesus Christ.

What, did you steal all this?

You said you wanted some gum.

F*** I'm supposed to do, pay for it?

Let's go.

Let's go.

Looks like

the farmers' market is open.

Farmers' market?

Yeah. Doc says

we got to go see the butcher.

Come on,

you're going in with us.

We might not be leaving in this.

And, uh, find

something funky on there.

Just in case we got

to rip this joint up.

Take this.

Act like you know how to use it.

Why would he need it?

Got to swagger in

like you got one,

so we don't all look

like a bunch of pussies.

Darling excluded.

What's with the earbuds?

Recording this or something?

It's just his music.

Yeah, he's loony.

He's just like his tunes.

What's he listening to?

How the f*** I know?

Let me check.

Tequila!

Which reminds me,

why'd the Mexican dude

throw his wife off the cliff?

Ah! Ruined it.

Didn't I ruin it?

We met before, right?

I don't know.

You still alive, right?

Uh-huh.

Then I guess we ain't never met.

Shut the f*** up!

I've got it.

I've got it.

Voila!

Welcome to la Charcuterie.

Tonight, gentlemen, madame,

we have only

the finest cuts of pork,

direct from

the local smokehouse.

You're all experienced

butchers yourself.

I assume you are aware that

the humble pig can be cooked

from nose to tail,

everything but the squeal.

I can offer you nine cuts

at the best prices

in all of Christendom.

So let's dive in

head-first.

From the jowl comes the godsent

Roman bacon that is Guanciale.

From the shoulder

of the hog comes

the Boston butt,

a tough but tasty cut.

The picnic shoulder

is a favorite

of those who enjoy

the smoking of pigs.

The center-cut loin,

the double-cut pork chops,

baby back ribs,

and the Serrano ham,

on the back leg, of course.

All delicious.

Delicious.

And, of course, we have a

fine selection of sausages.

Well, I'm hungry.

Fantastique.

And your choice is...

Well, I'm gonna go

with the picnic shoulder,

'cause, um, I just

love smoking pigs.

Done deal.

Dumb son of a b*tch.

Whoa! Oh, whoa,

whoa, whoa, whoa.

F***, bats!

You got my wife shot!

I don't like that!

Relax, buddy.

You handled it!

What the f***, you piece of sh*t?

You shot the gunsmiths.

Weren't they

f***ing doc's contacts?

They were doc's contacts!

Guess what, they was pigs.

Look at the box.

It says "APD."

I clocked that

tall strip of bacon

with that fake-ass Louis

Vuitton hat right off the bat.

He busted me in '98.

Now, I don't know about you

lovebirds f***ing without a condom,

but when somebody getting

ready to barbecue me,

I go full-metal

batshit on...

- Sh*t!

- Get him!

Baby, don't let him get away!

Get him! Get him!

Do something!

Get him!

Oh, sh*t!

Get us out of here, baby.

Let's move.

Come on, let's go. Move.

Bats, you are f***ing crazy.

When your folks name you bats,

you gonna end up crazy.

I don't doubt you're crazy,

but your real name

is not bats.

So says you.

You think my real

name's darling?

Yeah, or buddy?

No, they're nicknames.

Code names, monikers.

So, what's your

real name, darling?

Monica.

Hey, I thought we weren't

allowed to discuss names.

We're not.

Baby, what's your real name?

Huh?

Hey, stop, stop, stop up here.

Stop up here.

I said stop. I'm hungry.

No.

Stop the car!

No?

You're telling me no?

I don't want to go in there.

"I don't want to

go in there."

Well, hello, baby.

Bodies hit the floor back

there, you don't say sh*t.

Now all of a sudden,

you getting...

You getting riled up

about stopping at a diner?

I don't want to go in there.

It sucks.

Well, with that recommendation,

we gots to go in now.

Now, why y'all so mad? You

should be thanking ol' bats.

For being a walking

f***ing death wish?

Well, I treat all of my

jobs like it's my last.

Yeah, but what you do within

this group affects all of us.

Fine, cowboy. You're gonna get

your money tomorrow. Plus, uh...

I know you guys

got noses to feed.

What, yeah,

like you're Mr. clean.

I'm Mr. whatever

the f*** I wanna be.

Can I get you anything to drink?

Uh, yeah, I think it'll be,

uh, coke all around, right?

How... how you say it

in your language? Coca?

So let me get three

cokes and one Coca.

Four cokes?

Yeah.

Look, here's the deal.

You rob to support a drug habit.

I do drugs to

support a robbery habit.

That's clever.

That's my job, see.

It's you two who's on vacation.

So you doubt our credentials?

Wall street, right?

Doc tell you that?

Doc ain't tell me sh*t.

Just a educated guess

from an uneducated man.

Well, bats, I would be fascinated to

hear your thoughts on the matter.

Tell me if I'm way off, buddy.

You were a stockbroker. Maybe

a different wife, maybe kids.

You stack your paper,

but you say sh*t like,

"work hard, play harder," but

you play a little too hard.

You rack up debt, the type of debt

that'd make a white man blush.

Maybe you get into

a little trouble.

Maybe you get your hand caught

in the corporate cookie jar.

Maybe you leave and

run off to the desert.

Maybe with your

favorite lap dancer in tow.

Maybe you disappear into a world

consisting of three things,

money, sex, drugs and action.

Oh, sh*t, that's four.

Am I close?

This how I look at it.

You guys just think

this is a trip.

Either way,

if you are wall street,

you're a bigger f***ing crook

than I could ever be.

I'm gonna go right ahead

and speak for the two of us.

You think you know us?

You don't.

Mmm.

You think you're

the last word in crazy?

You're not.

And believe me when I tell you,

you don't want to

see my buddy mad.

You haven't seen

how relentless he is.

Because when he sees red,

you will see nothing but black.

You hear that, speedy? That's

some Oscar sh*t right there.

That was nice.

Did you rehearse that?

You see this sh*t, baby?

See, now this is a prime example

of a man who loves a woman.

You guys are

perfect for each other.

I mean that.

Well, what can I get you to eat?

Get these cats some happy meals,

and, uh, I'm gonna

take care of the bill,

uh, "Debora."

Yo, my friend here, he, uh...

he doesn't like this place,

but I think this place

kind of nice, you know?

So let me ask you something,

Debora.

What's his problem?

Uh, maybe your friend would like

to fill out a suggestion slip.

Tell us how to

improve our service.

Baby, you know that b*tch?

No.

Okay.

Let's bounce.

I got this.

What the f*** is your problem?

Hmm?

Okay.

Well, make sure you

tip the nice lady.

Bananas.

"Bananas" is a code word.

Whenever a deal is done

with one of my clients,

they call me on the phone and

they say the word "bananas,"

and then they hang up.

I did not hear

the word "bananas" tonight.

So you tell me who died.

Well, your contacts

was cops, doc.

I know. They were my cops.

Yeah, well, they fired first.

And I'm not gonna

take a bullet for you

or nobody else

in this motherf***er.

Is that true?

They fired first?

Yeah.

Baby?

Ask somebody on

the planet earth.

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