Drugstore Cowboy Page #3

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of the car and ran away.

We looked everywhere

but there wasn't time.

The heat was on us and

we had to get out of there.

We thought the little guy

got hit by a car or something.

But no.

The police had him.

Somehow they knew he was our dog.

They followed him all the way home.

He led them to us.

They put us in jail...

and they put little Panda to sleep.

For a brighter coat, whiter teeth

and a more even disposition,

there should only be one choice.

Rich gravy. No cereal. Gravy...

Nadine, do you have any idea

what you've done to us

by just mentioning dogs in our home?

- No. What'd I just do?

- You've no idea?

No, I don't, Bob. What'd I do?

You just put a 30-day hex

on us. That's what you did.

Our luck just flew out the window

for the next 30 days.

You got a calendar so we'll know when

this hex ends? What month is it, anyway?

Jesus, Bob.

You never told us anything

about not mentioning dogs.

The reason nobody

mentioned dogs, Rick,

is because just to have mentioned

a dog would have been a hex in itself.

Are there any other sacred things

we're not supposed to mention?

Yeah. As a matter of fact there are.

We might as well discuss 'em now, being

as we're shut down for the next 30 days.

Hats.

OK. Hats.

If I ever see a hat on a bed in this house,

man, like, you'll never see me again.

- I'm gone.

- That makes two of us.

- Why a hat?

- Because that's just the way it is, sweetie.

And there's mirrors. Never look

at the backside of a mirror.

It'll affect your future because

you're looking at yourself backwards.

No. You're looking at your inner self.

And you don't recognise it

because you've never seen it before.

Anyway, you can freeze into motion your

future, and that can be either good or bad.

In any case, we don't

want to take any chances.

But the most important thing

is the goddamn hat.

A goddamn hat on the bed

is the king of 'em all.

Hell, that's worth at least... what?

15 years' bad luck, or even death.

And I'd rather have death cos

I couldn't face no 15-year hex.

Relax, hon. Just go lay down awhile.

You been on the go for days now.

This 30-days thing ain't gonna kill us.

Don't let it get you down, Bob.

Sometimes bad luck can be good luck.

I mean, think of all the times we had

a flat tyre or engine trouble or something

and we made it to our score

late thinking it was bad luck.

Then we'd find out for

some reason it was good luck.

You know what I mean?

Hell, I can't figure it out.

I just know from years of experience

the things to look for and the signs and...

You know what it's like? It's like, who's

ever managing such things is saying

"Go out there and get it."

"It's there for the taking, kid."

"Everything's free this week. I'll

let you know when your time's up."

"You'll see the signs."

"Hell, all you gotta do

is look for the signs."

Sh*t. Sorry, baby.

Sorry about that, baby.

So what's going on?

Why don't we just go in, we plant

some stuff on them, we drag 'em on in?

It works all the time.

I'll tell you why not. I don't wanna get

Bob Hughes on no bullshit possession beef,

and that's all we'll get him on

unless we catch him cold,

on his way home from

a score. You know that.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

- Who is it, Bob?

- I don't know. I thought you knew.

- Hi.

- Did I wake you up?

- No, no, no.

- No.

- We were awake, weren't we, Rick?

- Well, I don't know what to think.

I saw this sinister-looking

man with a ladder

creeping around outside

my bedroom window.

I know that I wouldn't

be able to sleep a wink

if I thought there was some crazy sex

maniac running around loose out there.

Now, you just relax. We'll go down

there and check it out immediately.

- Thank you very much.

- We'll check it out as soon as we can.

- Good night.

- Good night.

- Good night.

- Good night.

- Night.

- Bye-bye.

What the hell is she doin' up

at two o'clock in the morning?

It's Gentry.

Yeah.

I bet he followed us when we moved.

Son of a b*tch.

Yeah.

Well, I guess we'll have to

teach him a little lesson, huh?

"The reason you can never get Bob

Hughes for possession of narcotics is

that he has an arrangement with the guy

that lives on the north side of him."

"They have a line between their houses."

"Bob signals the guy

when he wants the stuff."

"The neighbour puts it on the string.

Bob pulls over what he needs

and leaves the rest in the other house

where you can never find it."

- Bye, Daddy.

- Bye-bye.

- Excuse me. Got a sec?

- Yeah.

- You live here, right?

- Right.

I live next door. I know

it's none of my business...

What do you suppose he has in that sack?

You think it might be junk?

One thing I am positive of -

it's not his goddamn lunch.

About two o'clock this morning,

I look out my window and there he is.

A big, ugly son of a b*tch

wearing a long, dark raincoat,

and he's standing on top of this ladder

looking in your upstairs windows.

He's got one hand

underneath his raincoat.

From where I was standing,

I gotta say, it looked kinda sick.

- I'll shoot the son of a b*tch in the balls!

- Now hang on a second.

Did you see the way

they talked? All the gestures?

They got something goin' on.

They ain't just casual acquaintances.

Yeah, I can see that.

For a second there, it looked like

that big guy was gonna jump on Hughes

and stomp his guts out.

I would've liked to have seen that.

OK, I know what you guys are thinkin'.

"What's old Bob got me into this time?"

Well, let me tell you, this is gonna be

something. You guys are gonna love this.

- Dianne, where you goin'?

- I'm just gonna go get my cigarettes.

All right. Hurry up. You're not

gonna want to miss this one.

- Rick, where you goin'?

- I'm just gettin' a beer, Bob.

All right. Don't come crying

to me when you miss out.

OK. Sh! Here they come.

There's two of 'em.

Come here. Come over here. All right.

They're making their move.

One guy's climbing up the ladder.

I hope he gets pissed off at them, man.

OK. The neighbour's comin'

out of the house. Holy sh*t!

He's got a shotgun!

Well, I'll be a son of a b*tch.

Show time!

Whoa!

Holy sh*t!

Bob, I wanna talk to you

about what happened last night.

We told the investigating officer all

we knew. We have nothing further to add.

You little punk. Halamer and

Trousinski know you set them up,

and I can honestly say they are

anything but happy about it.

Now, Bob, I'm gonna make

a suggestion to you.

Why don't you take a nice long drive

somewhere far away from here?

Wait a minute, Gentry. I won

the goddamn war, not you.

Who are you to dictate the terms?

Why don't you find a small-town police

department where you can be sheriff

and all you gotta worry about is Saturday

night drunks and kids on Halloween?

So you think you won the war, huh?

Pick him up.

You're just a junkie that got

one of my officers shot.

And as soon as he gets ahold of you,

everybody'll forget you ever existed.

Let him go.

You little piece of sh*t.

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