Chris Rea: The Road to Hell & Back

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Aloha, foolish mortals.

You have come upon

the Gates of Hell.

Prepare to meet your fiery

fate in an orderly fashion.

Three lines, please.

Boo.

Come inside The Gates

where we have

no used condoms to step on.

What about you, guy texting?

Why don't you text

the rest of your boy band

to come down to Hell?

Anyone? Any takers?

That was pathetic.

You don't know the first thing

about carnival barking.

Time for school, son.

Hear ye, hear ye:

Repent now, foolish mortal,

for ye enter now the gates of Hell!

That is how that's done.

Enthusiasm, bro. And always

throw the horns. Always!

Yeah, man, 'cause there's

nothing depressing

about old metal heads

still throwing up horns.

Listen here, skinny jeans

f*** nose,

this place can't survive

forever without customers.

No customers, no money.

No money, no park.

No park, no park.

"No park, no park!"

What are you,

a valet at P.F. Chang?

You do know that you

just repeated yourself, right?

Or did you get pummeled

with so many leather d*ldos

at a Judas Priest concert

that you have no idea

what you're saying right now?

Listen, it would be an honor

to be f***ed by Judas Priest.

You don't know sh*t

about dick or rock or roll.

Get that lubtard

to fix this sh*t.

I'll tell him.

You can also tell him

that he looks like

a prime candidate

for Type-2 diabetes.

So funny, Cleb.

You know, I hear you

talking about my friend,

but it looks like the words

are coming out of a dog sh*t snowman.

Hey, man...

Do you have a time machine

so I can go back in time

and punch your mom in the stomach

so you don't grow up to be you?

B*tch head.

Augie, the ride's broken again.

I'll punch your dick

off with my mouth, bro.

Okay, red is the relay

and white is the ground.

Hey, what is going on up there?

Um, I'm sorry,

I just shorted out part of my body.

It's very dark in here.

Zonar, mistress of the Macabre,

is in need of power!

Just let me get a flashlight

and then I'll, uh...

Okay, so I'll just

need to check the, uh...

Hello?

Madame Zonar?

Tell me, do you believe in destiny?

Why, should I?

Do you believe that your heart

will stop because of all the fat

that is collected around it from

the junk food and garbage you eat?

I can only imagine

that your veins are

filled with grease

and tacos and Cheetos.

Do you believe in this destiny?

Well, I mean, I...

Mr. Fat, Fat, Fattykins.

Okay, I just need

to find your breakers.

It's true that I smother

my sadness with carbs.

It's my... private shame.

Sh*t!

I sense that you are good

with your hands.

Than... thanks.

Please, sit down.

You are talented, young one.

But you spend too much time

f***ing your hand.

What?! How did you...

Yes, and your hand

doesn't enjoy it.

It's not consensual.

No, that's not true at all!

So, basically, you're raping

your own hand. - No...

And that is why nobody loves you.

- You're way off.

- Nobody will ever love you.

Augie, what are you doing?

Please, sit down.

Madame Zonar,

dreamer of desires,

senses a need within you.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I work here.

Can you not talk like that?

You're an adult on Planet Earth.

Well, maybe if you

put a circuit breaker

on my crystal ball,

I could do my job here.

Yeah, we gotta

get this whole place

in shape or we're all

gonna be out of jobs, okay?

You could use some

shaping-up yourself.

I know I may be old and wrinkly,

but my power can provide.

- Really?

- So can my vagina.

Not my breasts so much.

They've been used and abused.

You know what?

I take one look

at you and my dick

hops out of my pants,

goes and gets a gun

and blows the head of its own dick off.

That is not the first time

I have been told that by a man.

Bro, I saw the way

you were looking at her.

Wait, what?

Thinkin' about throwing Madame

BONar a part of your baby dick?

Remy, that's f***ed up, dude.

No way!

Come on, Aug,

you need the experience.

And she rubs balls for a living.

I mean, they're crystal,

so at least she'll be careful,

but she's, like,

a thousand years old.

I mean, she must be like

a sandpaper factory down there.

Dude, don't knock sandpaper.

My cat licked my penis

when I was in 6th grade

and I still think about it.

Not again.

I gotta put this horse down.

Dude, this place is in trouble.

The Gates of Hell's

our main attraction

and it's falling to sh*t.

Yeah, I know.

Well, you're the handyman,

Augie, so fix it.

No, no, I would, but Cleb told me

there's no money to fix it.

Ouch! Hey!

Sorry. - Ouch!

Did you ask Curt for the money?

No, no, no 'cause he's...

- The assistant manager.

- Cleb's the manager.

His name is Cleb. I mean,

imagine his parents.

Yeah, it does feel like they gave up

just as soon as they started

choosing baby names.

? Hot f*** action to the max

? that's what I like F*** action...

Clockin' out.

Wait, wait, wait, wait,

you're seriously leaving early?

That's right.

Got a hot date tonight.

with Madame Zonar.

Oh, you mean the fortune-teller.

I'm pretty sure

I saw her on deck today

slipping around in

what appeared to be

her own vomit as she was trying

to poo off the side of her boats.

That's my lady.

Well, not to be a dick,

my friend,

just pointing out the obvious here,

you don't really have

any skill sets. -Yep.

And then, you know,

you smoke a tremendous

- amount of weed,

- Right.

And you spend all your time talking

to alcoholic, mentally-ill

fortune-tellers.

That's me.

All while the rides are in

dangerously bad condition.

Whoa, I told Remy

to tell Augie to fix 'em.

That buck has been passed.

Well, yeah, right,

but still, I mean,

one of us has to

maintain a safe park,

you know, so our customers

don't die on the rides.

Well, I guess we gotta

figure out who's

gonna do that, you or me?

Well, since you're

the manager...

420!

See you tomorrow.

Awesome, all right,

thank you so much

for all the stuff you do, Cleb,

whatever that is, bud.

Uh...

Jab, jab, jab, jab.

- You're goin' down!

- Boom, boom!

Watch out now.

Ah, sh*t.

So, dude, after break,

we need you to order

some parts for The Gates.

Not this time.

The park is done.

- What?

- What?

The park is done?

Bullshit.

We just a letter from the bank.

The place is bankrupt.

Bankrupt?

How could you let this happen?

Me?! This place is

a dinosaur, man.

Other parks have

roller-coasters

that rearrange your organs.

We got a squirt gun balloon race

and a needle-exchange

program.

Curt, remember the three of us

were gonna bro-out here forever?

I don't know what to tell ya.

Maybe I'll go to college.

Oh, really, bro? Awesome, man.

Yeah, just go to college, dude.

Come on.

What, are you gonna major in roofies

with a minor in

let's-get-the f***-out-of-here?

I'm sorry you don't have

a fallback plan, Remy.

Maybe you should go ask

that fortune-teller

Madame Zonar

for some career advice.

Let's go see if the bearded lady

will give you a beej.

I'll go get the chloroform.

Curt, steal that clown's knife.

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