Boone: The Bounty Hunter Page #2

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Come on, I wouldn't

rat on you, dad.

No, dumbass.

You never will.

Tess here has invited

the Cardoza brothers.

I guarantee you they will

take care of you.

Oh, come on, I don't

need babysitters.

No more parties, no more whores,

no more loose ends.

No more screw-ups.

Ryan Davenport,

trust fund kid charged with

the second degree murder

of candy Charley.

Cops found her body

on the side of route 101

with enough rohypnol

in her system

to knock out a rhinoceros.

And... get this.

They found a new designer drug

in her system, too.

I'm telling you guys,

we nab this weasel,

and he leads them to

the snoopy sauce.

It's huge.

Hey, uh, Boone,

this is a real case.

Yeah, this isn't

hog-tying Kardashians.

We're a TV show.

We were a TV show.

You didn't tell them?

This is our last episode.

Damn.

Not if we score massive

ratings by Booneing

a spoiled d-bag who buys

his way out of trouble.

Okay, his trial starts tomorrow.

How do you even

know he's gonna skip?

He already did, this morning.

He left the state?

Oh, yeah, he's a skipper.

Where-where'd

you get these?

A friend at the DEA.

Hmm.

So, you know where he went?

Grab your margaritas, senoritas.

We're going to Mexico.

We could be there by morning

and back by sunset.

Morning, like tomorrow morning?

No way.

We need intel on

this guy, this town.

We need gear.

Mexico is a stopover

for this creep.

We gotta strike fast.

Come on, man.

You know Mexico don't

like bounty hunters.

He's right.

They'll let Davenport go

and charge us with abduction.

We're just nicely

asking the murderer

if he'll take a ride

back to L.A. with us.

If we get busted,

which we won't,

we all know it's just

a matter of pesos

to get us out.

We don't have a budget anymore.

The bail was 10 mil.

That's a million dollar bounty.

We're not going...

End of discussion.

Yo, Boone!

Never was good at

following orders.

That's why you love me, right?

Yeah, you're right,

but I'm still not goin'.

What?

And you guys shouldn't, either.

Denny, you know this is crazy.

Boone says it's an easy score.

Kat.

Hey, since I'm out of a job,

I could use the million bucks,

and somebody needs

to watch their asses.

Let's grab the last

of our gear, Denny.

I might not be able to stop

them from following you,

but maybe I can stop you from

leading them into trouble.

Come on, man.

I thought you liked trouble.

I like my wife and my kids more.

Are they the type of kids

that like to eat?

Man, I'm trying to

save our jobs.

Maybe it's time to

find new jobs.

Doing what?

Watching the door

at some club on sunset?

No, man, we worked

too hard for too long.

You think we're gonna

find another gig

that pays this well

to crush bad guys?

Oh, is-is that

what we're doin'?

Yeah.

Look, you're the best soldier

I ever fought with.

But, Boone,

trust me on this one.

You're making a huge

mistake this time.

Talking about going to Mexico.

You don't know that place.

Think.

I am thinking.

I can take care of myself.

You're supposed to take care

of everyone else, too.

It's official.

We're completely off the grid.

What? Damn it.

How am I supposed to

tweet this epic selfie

to the Booneatics?

How will the twitverse survive?

You know, Kat,

I've been thinkin'.

Don't hurt yourself.

We need to relieve the

sexual tension between us.

When we get back

to L.A.,

I think you should

come over to my place.

We'll crack open some beers

and watch some pro wrestling.

Come over.

I'll-I'll show you

some moves.

We could do

some Pilates, some yoga,

you know, Wednesday night stuff.

A showmance could

help the ratings.

Yeah, that's what I'm saying.

I'd do it to save

everyone's jobs.

Fine.

If it'll help the show,

I'll just hook up with Denny.

Look, there are people

in this town.

Yeah, two.

Where is everybody?

What the hell?

Oh, what's this guy's story?

Hey, want some water?

Agua?

Yeah.

Uh, no.

No, take it, man.

You need it.

No.

And some lip balm.

Okay, but if you get thirsty

and change your mind,

it's right there.

Hey, what's the sign say?

It means lazy.

You're Boone the hunter.

See?

They do know me down here.

What's with him?

He broke the rules.

You're here to stop the bad men?

That's right, one of the worst.

What's your name, kid?

Miguel.

So, Miguel...

How would you like to be

a deputy bounty hunter?

Any new gringos come

to town yesterday?

No.

Calm down, chief.

I got a card for you, too.

You want senor Davenport.

The kid said this is the place.

Camera one online and recording.

Come on.

Let's be ready to rock.

Boone cam set.

Boone cam check.

Gross.

Okay, got Denny cam.

Denny cam check.

Blaaah.

Grosser.

Can you give me some levels?

Ryan Davenport,

the weatherman's predicting

hail in your future

because I'm about to come at ya

like a bag of quarters

in a strip club.

Perfect.

Kat cam is hot.

We've got the remotes.

Just remember we gotta

stay half a mile

from the Van so we can

record the feeds.

Incoming.

Yahtzee.

We got him.

How do we handle them?

Hmm.

Looks like these guys

found a buy one,

get one free sale

on polyester goon suits.

Denny can take 'em.

Hey, look...

He's ditching his bodyguards.

Now is our chance.

Wait, wait, hold up

a sec, Kittycat.

What?

Why?

Boone, let's go.

We can cut him off before

they catch up.

Davenport's still in the bar.

Kid went in wearing

lucchese boots

worth at least 11 thou.

The guy that came out

was in sneakers.

I guess being a fashion diva

has its perks.

Yep.

Let's go Boone this chump stain.

Boone voyage, Ryan Davenport.

Group Boone.

Let's Boone him.

All right, guys.

Let's Boone this kid.

Settle down on the

Boone-Boone phrases.

Boone... I'm

gonna Boone this kid

into next Tuesday.

Hmm.

You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?

Probably not as advanced.

You two set the cameras.

I'll probe her for information.

At least that

won't take too long.

Well, hello, muscles.

Is it hot in here,

or is it just you?

What can I do for you?

And remember,

I can do everything.

I'm lookin' for somebody.

Oh, perfect.

I'm a somebody.

What type of place

is this anyway?

The kind where you

don't ask questions.

Where is Ryan Davenport?

See, that's a question,

and here's the only answer

that matters in this town.

Don't mess with anyone

named Davenport.

Margarita, blended,

half sugar,

half salt on the rim.

Interesting place, homey.

What's going on?

Fiesta? Rodeo?

Chicas back there,

dudes with hats?

Hablo Ingles?

No? Okay.

Whoa.

What's up with your face?

My name is Boone

the bounty hunter.

I'm lookin' for a piece of trash

named Ryan Davenport.

You know where Ryan is, chief?

Thirsty, huh?

This round is on me.

Speak English?

Do you know where Ryan is?

I don't think so, brother.

You don't think so.

Yeah.

He doesn't think so.

Okay, then.

Ha-ha!

A-Boone-a-matata,

goober.

Ahh!

I had him!

Where's Ryan?

Upstairs.

Where's the stairs?

Over there.

Hello, Ryan, ladies.

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