Bordello of Blood Page #4
- R
- Year:
- 1996
- 87 min
- 606 Views
Sorry to disturb you,
but I have something
you should see.
I thought you said
Mr. Guttman had finished
his investigation.
He has finished.
Mr. Guttman...
Mr. Guttman...
your job is done.
Now, if you don't leave,
I'll be forced
to have you removed.
Fine. Katherine, you should
really take a look at that.
Take care, you two.
Mr. Guttman.
Yes, Miss Verdoux?
Where did you find this?
I found that
at the McCutcheon
Mortuary,
which also happens to be
the McCutcheon Brothel,
where young men
gather to get stiff
amongst the stiffs.
Unfortunately,
most of them end up getting
ripped off or even worse.
Why am I telling you that for?
Like you care.
Are you sure about this?
Maybe we should
call the police.
"We"?
Oh, I'm back
on the team now.
Christ, you're so nervous.
I'm gonna try to be
as discreet as I can, all right?
As far as going to the police,
until we have something solid,
that's a mistake.
I'm staking out
the mortuary tonight.
You have to trust me, okay?
Hey! Hey!
Captain Moped, wait up!
Hey, hey,
what's happenin',
wild thing?
You're lookin' cool tonight.
You must know Mickey Rourke.
Mind if I ask you
a few questions?
Here's my card.
My name is Rafe Guttman.
I'm-I'm out of cards.
Oh. Here to try
your luck again?
I've got good news for you,
but I'm afraid there's only room for one.
This way, young man.
Sorry, kid.
Hey, wait a second!
You'll wait right here.
You got me?
So this is my pathway
to paradise, huh?
Oh, yes.
And the girls
are waiting for you.
Ah, the girls.
Let them eat a guy named Cake.
They also like crumpet too.
Guess where you've
just landed, lover?
Uh, Larry Flynt's id?
Vegetarian.
Another vegetarian.
I hate vegetarians.
Here, baby,
this Bud's for you.
Mm-hmm.
Yummy.
We have a little problem
upstairs, I'm afraid.
Mr. Jenkins...
I understand
you have a problem.
I can't take it anymore.
Well, have you been
wearing sun block?
You know the sun is very hard
on undead skin.
And you're not even
fully undead yet.
It's a process.
I don't care what it is.
It hurts.
Men.
Such big babies.
Yeah, I just love a man
who gives you head...
and lets you keep it.
Lucy, I'm home.
Tammy, I love
what you've done with it.
Maybe I would hang a picture
of dogs playing poker over there.
But that would be
my only quibble.
Take off your clothes, worm.
What's that?
Medieval foreplay?
Tamara, maybe
I'm a traditionalist,
but I've always thought
it should be ladies before worms.
So... you first.
You are not gonna
believe this,
but I almost
wore that tonight.
Wouldn't we have been
mortified?
Now it's your turn.
All right.
Leave your shirt on!
A little early to be repulsed,
isn't it?
I thought
it was a cross.
Let me take it off.
Be gentle.
I used to be a virgin... I think.
Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.
Take it easy.
Easy.
Pull back on the stick,
Amelia.
You know, the weave
isn't even paid for yet.
Now, what about this funky
little Barcalounger?
Break this down for me.
Well, first
I'd strap in one hand.
Yeah? Like this?
Yeah.
Then...
I presume,
the other hand goes there.
Right?
You comfy?
Uh-huh.
Mm-hmm.
I hate
but I gotta split, okay?
You have been
You bastard!
Huh. There's always
something going on.
Men. Always leaving
something behind.
I really am sorry.
Mmm.
I don't know
what happened.
One minute I thought I had him,
and the next...
I knew it.
It's one in a million.
Very rare, this blood type.
And I haven't tasted that
since... Ivan the Terrible.
That was
four centuries ago.
Hmm.
Mmm.
Oh, we gotta keep him alive.
Who the hell
are you?
The name's Lilith.
You left this behind.
It's not very nice to leave
a girl hanging like that.
I'll have to apologize
next time I see her.
I didn't mean her.
I meant me.
You know, I saw you
back at the house.
And when I did,
I knew you were special.
I'll bet you say that
to all the boys.
Yeah, but with you I mean it.
Listen, uh, Lilith,
I'm reasonably sure...
you're the type of woman
who's never heard
the expression "half-cocked,"
but that is exactly
what this gun is,
and I swear I'll use it.
You wouldn't shoot these,
now would you?
Go on. You can touch 'em.
I'll let you.
I'm not gonna tell you
those aren't the breasts of the century,
but I'm just not
diggin' the owner.
So why don't you put those away?
You're not my type.
So what is your type?
Don't tell me. Let me guess.
Two, four, six, eight!
You can watch me masturbate!
Getting warmer?
No?
Mmm, then how about
something... like this?
Ooh.
Ooh.
Can I tell you
something, Rafe?
Yeah.
When you were looking
at me before,
Mm-hmm.
I liked it.
I can't stop
thinking about you.
I can be just like her
if that's what you want.
I'd do anything for you, lover.
Rafe? Hello?
Oh, my God.
I'm sorry.
Katherine.
Forget it, Rafe.
I'm going to the cops.
How do I know
it's a whorehouse?
- I was there. How's that?
- Isn't that interesting.
As I recall, your private
investigator's license was
suspended almost a year ago.
Were you aware of that, ma'am?
- No... I wasn't.
- Well, thank you.
And could you possibly get just a little
of that f***in' stew inside your head?
Huh?
Could we shoot for that?
It's a license. It's paper.
It doesn't matter. Come on.
And the check for your
license renewal bounced.
For Christ's sake, man,
there are people dying!
Isn't that more important
than my secretarial skills?
I didn't even know her
when I went there!
I was there as an everyday,
horny citizen, all right?
- Did you give this man money?
- You're f***in' clueless.
Hmm. Well, seems to me...
throwin' in jail is you.
Listen to me,
sh*t-for-brains...
Excuse me.
Deputy, I don't know
what to believe
at this point.
I know that you have
but Mr. Guttman did find this
at the mortuary.
It's my brother's.
Hmm.
Try not to eat it, Mongo.
I apologize for gettin' you
out of bed at this hour.
That's okay, officer.
What exactly was it
the gentleman said
happened here?
Don't give me
that sh*t, Karloff.
What'd I tell you, kids?
Right there.
A coffin.
Uh-huh.
It's pretty suspicious
for a mortuary.
Noonan, you don't
wear irony very well.
Why don't you leave that
to the big boys?
Now watch what happens
when I pull this.
Watch this.
You stupid son of a b*tch!
What the hell do you think
you're doing?
What happens, Barney Fife,
is the conveyor belt goes
all the way through the fire,
empties out into a room
down in the basement.
My God, that coffin cost me
more than a thousand dollars.
Look at little Olivier!
You are so utterly
full of sh*t.
Uh-huh.
Careful you don't
burn yourself on it now.
I'm sorry
to have bothered you.
That's all right, officer.
Noonan, come on.
This is the entrance
to the whorehouse.
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