Drugstore Cowboy Page #6

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Where's my f***in' money, you b*tch?

Punk. Where the f***'s my money?

Come on. This is the third

time I had to ask you.

What are you gonna say? Say something.

You want me to beat you more?

Hey, David. What do you

think you're doin', man?

Huh? What do you think you're doin'?

This kid's cryin', man.

So? It's business. What do you care?

Why don't you go away and mind

your own business? What do you care?

Cos it bugs me.

- Take a walk.

- Hey, man. Come on.

Goddamn!

- David, why don't you grow up, man?

- I am grown-up.

A**hole!

Why didn't you do something, man?

What's up with you, man? I thought you...

Man, I'm not buying you no lunch.

You know, Tom, you told me

a lot of the old-time stories

about how you used to stick your arm

in between the bars of the cell

and a guard would come by and

he'd fire you up a shot of morphine.

They never did that for me.

They don't do that for anyone any more.

Narcotics have been systematically

scapegoated and demonised.

The idea that anyone can use drugs

and escape a horrible fate

is anathema to these idiots.

I predict in the near future

right-wingers will use drug hysteria

as a pretext

to set up an international

police apparatus.

I'm an old man and I may not live to see

a final solution of the drug problem.

You know what, Tom? You might

have missed your calling.

You should have been a philosopher.

Well, Bob, in another life,

perhaps. In another life.

Who is it?

Who is it?

Hey.

Jesus. What kind of a dump is this?

And where is the female?

You might as well trot her out.

You don't ever change, do you, Dianne?

Goddamn right I don't. Why should I?

I was just commenting

on how good you look.

- Yeah? I'll bet.

- Hey, how about a cup of tea?

- Yeah.

- Yeah?

So, how's that methadone

thing workin' out?

So-so.

- I got a job. Did I tell you that?

- No sh*t! Where are you working?

Oh,

just a machine shop over on Western.

Yeah? What do you do there?

I, uh... I drill holes.

- Drill holes?

- Yeah.

I drill... I drill these holes

that, uh, bolts fit into.

Yeah? How do you like it?

I'll tell you the truth. It's kind of

a drag, but it pays the rent.

Then you're really serious.

You're gonna go on with this thing.

Yeah.

Dianne, why don't you take

your coat off and stay awhile?

I can't. I got people

waiting for me out in the car.

I just came to see how you was doing.

Here.

That's from Rick and the rest of us.

We kind of thought you might

need a taste once in a while.

What happened? What made you

turn around that day?

Was it me? Did I do something wrong?

No, babe. It wasn't you.

It was Nadine's death and the hex

she threw on us with that hat.

Then I panicked when I looked out to the

parking lot and I saw all those cop cars.

I knew I was dead. So I started coppin'

deuces. I prayed like I'd never prayed.

I said "God, Son, Devil, whoever you are

up there, please have pity on me."

"Please let me get this poor girl's body

out of this hotel room and into the ground

so I don't have to spend

my life in prison."

"And, God, if you'll do that for me, I'll

show you my appreciation by goin' home,

gettin' on the methadone programme,

gettin' a job and livin' a virtuous life."

We got out,

and I promised, so here I am.

Are you gonna stick with it for ever?

Well...

You know, Dianne, for all the boredom the

straight life brings, it's not that bad.

I mean, even this crummy

little room ain't so bad.

I mean, I actually wake up some mornings

and I feel like something good's

gonna happen today. You know?

I'm a regular guy. I got my regular job.

I got my regular room.

And now I got you.

You're crazy, Bob.

You're really crazy.

Dianne, why don't you go downstairs

and tell your friends that you're

gonna spend the night, come back,

and bed down with me for a little while?

I'd like to, Bob.

But I got another old man now.

I'm... I'm Rick's old lady now.

Ain't that a gas? I work for Rick.

There we were, teaching that brat

to steal, and now I'm on his crew.

Things sure can get

screwed around, can't they?

Yeah.

And, Bob, you know me.

I might have been a lot of things,

but I never was a tramp.

Bob, I gotta go.

Hey, Dianne?

It's really good to see you.

I mean, you look really good.

I wish I could win you back.

- Who is it?

- Tom, it's Bob. Open the door.

- Hey, what's this?

- It's a gift.

I won't be needing it. I got

my new programme down so...

- A gift. Wow.

- Knock yourself out.

- Mmmm...

- I don't know what's in there.

Let's just see what's in there.

God bless you, my son.

May you go to heaven.

Now...

Oh, yeah. This...

This is for squares. Never touch the stuff.

But this...

A hundred sixteenths of Dilaudid.

This should earn you an indulgence.

Where's it at, Bob?

- What do you want?

- We want your dope.

You think if I had dope

I'd be sittin' in this flea trap?

I'm on a methadone programme. You

come around for dope? That's a laugh.

Shut up. I ain't f***ing, man.

You want it the hard way and we're just

the guys who are gonna give it to you.

Is that you, David?

You listen to me, you little punk.

I'm goin' straight, man.

I ain't f***in' bullshitting you.

I'm goin' straight.

You oughta try it sometime.

It's good for the soul.

F***in' liar!

Where is it, Bob? We know

this is all a scam you're playing.

Where is it? Where the f*** is it?

Nothing is more life-affirming than

getting the sh*t kicked out of you.

I knew it in my heart.

You can buck the system,

but you can't buck the dark forces

that lie hidden beneath the surface.

The ones some people

call superstitions.

Howling banshees.

Black cats.

Hats on beds.

Dogs and the evil eye.

So I relaxed and gave in to the notion

that, for the very first time in my life,

I knew exactly what was

going to happen next.

F***. Now I'm gonna

kill the son of a b*tch.

I bet ya the next bastard we capture

will tell us where it's at. So he's tough.

They ain't all tough.

I say kill him.

Did you hear me, Bob?

Come on. Let's go.

Is he gonna make it?

Let me get him for a second.

Bob. Can you hear me?

Bob, who did this to you?

Was it Trousinski?

Bob, tell me. Who shot you?

The hat.

The hat? Bob, did you say "The Hat"?

Tell Dianne...

to look out for the hat. Tell her.

- OK, Bob.

- OK?

- So The Hat shot you. Right, Bob?

- No.

The TV baby shot me.

The TV Baby shot you

but The Hat was with him.

Who's The Hat? You gotta

tell me so I can tell Dianne.

Never mind.

I'll tell her myself.

We gotta get him outta here.

It's this f***ing life.

You never know what's

gonna happen next.

That's why Nadine spiked

herself with the easy way out.

That's why Dianne

keeps on goin' like she does.

See, most people don't know how they're

gonna feel from one minute to the next.

But a dope fiend has

a pretty good idea.

All you gotta do is look at

the labels on the little bottles.

You gotta know how

to read the signs.

That's what the hat on the bed was,

which is why I'm not scared.

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