From Dusk Till Dawn 2: Texas Blood Money

---

Christ, it's almost midnight.

Nothing like putting in some overtime

to save a miserable serial killer.

Alleged serial killer.

Right.

- Well...

maybe one of these days we'll actually

defend somebody who's really innocent.

- A man is innocent until proven guilty.

- Until proven guilty.

Look, you and I both know that son of

a b*tch killed 14 people in cold blood.

- I just hope there's nothing

to this karma thing.

- Oh, please.

- Ah, come on. What the hell?

And I don't want to hear

anything about any karma.

- What's going on?

- I'm gonna find out.

I'm gonna check out

the elevator shaft.

- Yeah, okay.

- Maybe there's a way out.

- Oh, Jesus.

- What's happening? Are they bats?

- Danny?

Oh, God! Oh, God! Somebody help me!

Please! Please! Somebody help me!

Please!

Oh, God! Please!

No! No! No! No!

Ah, come on. Just when it was

getting to the good part.

- Christ, not again.

Hey, take a little

breather, honey.

I lost my concentration.

Goddamn piece of crap.

Looks like the only thing

working around here is me.

- Sons of b*tches.

- That's what you get...

for stealing cable, Buck.

The first full solar eclipse to be seen

locally in over 35 years--

...while transporting

Luther Heggs...

from the Kern County Jail

to the Huntsville State Penitentiary.

Heggs, you may remember,

was convicted for armed robbery.

An unscheduled stop was made

at a gas station rest room.

When Heggs persuaded the deputy

to remove one of the cuffs

so he could use the toilet...

Heggs severely beat the deputy...

wrestled away the key

to the cuffs and fled the scene.

- Looks like Luther beat the dog sh*t...

- In a moment we'll be speaking...

- out of that boy.

- to legendary Texas Ranger Otis Lawson.

Officer Lawson, could we have the latest

developments concerning Luther Heggs?

Yes. Uh, we have

all available--

Hey, ain't that the old boy who put you

away in that Lubbock bank job?

Rotten bastard.

I'd like to say that...

I-I-I will personally

track down Luther Heggs...

and drag his ass

back to the penitentiary...

where the sorry

son of a b*tch belongs.

All right, a**hole.

Start talking.

- You got a warrant, Otis?

- Did I give you that?

Damn, Sheriff. I thought I--

Let's see, did you--

- There is it. ls that warrant

enough for you? Huh?

- Forget about the warrant, Otis.

- Okay.

- Thank you for cooperating.

Now, where is he?

Don't say, "Who?"

I ain't heard a peep from him.

Oh, sh*t. Goddamn.

Luther and me--

We ain't as tight as we once was.

Ever since l went straight.

I don't run in them circles.

Bullshit, Buck.

Goddamn it.

You're a criminal.

You always were, and you always will be.

- Just like your daddy.

- No, I swear to God, Otis.

- I'm selling them Swifty products.

- Shut up.

- Show her the picture.

- You seen this man?

- Yes, I have.

- When and where?

About an hour ago, on the TV.

Do you think we're just wasting

our time coming over here...

like we suck farts

out of a dead chicken?

- She don't know nothing about it.

- She might not, but you sure do.

'Cause you and Luther

are butt-buddies...

from way back.

And sooner or later,

he's gonna contact you...

and when he does,

we'll be waiting.

Don't forget that, slick.

Ma'am.

- Yeah?

- Well, hey, Mama.

- Sh*t.

Yeah, well, listen, Mama.

I'm gonna have to call you back

a little bit later, all right?

- All right. I love you too.

- Buck... your mama's dead.

- Yeah?

- You clear?

- It is now. Are you okay?

- Yeah. l've been better.

Listen up, man.

That Mexican bank deal is back on.

We gotta move

double fast, though.

- Are you sure the money's still there?

- Yeah, it's still there.

Five million in freshly-laundered...

gringo drug money.

Round up a crew and meet me

at that El Coyote Motel

across the border tomorrow night.

All right, Luther.

Sh*t. I gotta get out

of here, man.

I'll be in around 7:30,

run the whole thing down to everybody.

And now, ladies and gentlemen...

- the champion of champions...

Roddy Pugh!

All right! Yeah!

Hang on, cowboy,

I'm coming. Come here, bull! Come to me!

Come to me, baby!

Come here!

Watch out for that there bull!

Come on! Better run, better run!

There goes Widow Maker!

Howdy, C.W.

Did you see it?

Yep.

I reckon I've lost a step.

I reckon.

So how the hell

are things, C.W.?

Well, I fractured my ass bone...

Fay left me...

I'm three months behind

on my note...

and I had to hock

my horse and trailer.

Goddamn, man. lf your dog was dead,

we'd have us a country song.

Scooter got hit by a car

and killed last month.

Jesus, C.W., I'm sorry.

I was just joking, man.

Oh, hell, Buck. You know me and

good luck was always strangers.

So what's the pitch?

I'm guessing you didn't come here

to scout my clowning skills.

Nah, there's no clowning

involved here.

Luther's got a deal going.

Looks like a good one.

We need you to open the box.

- Is my end more than a hundred thou?

- Way more.

Jesus, it's Buck. Don't shoot,

you paranoid son of a b*tch.

Didn't you see the signs?

The only thing I gotta beware of

is your crazy ass. Got a beer?

- Jaws is looking pretty strong.

- Jaws is dead.

I lost him in a fight

a while back.

This is Jaws 2.

I got him on the juice.

You're pumping steroids into a pooch?

Damn, Jesus.

That's immoral.

Hey, it ain't the f***in' Olympics,

Buck. I mean, this is dog fighting.

He's got a big match coming up.

Hey, go, Jaws, go!

I got a deal

you might want to get in on.

Who's setting up the deal?

- Luther.

- Besides you and Luther...

who else is on the crew?

C.W. Niles and Ray Bob.

Ray Bob?

He's an idiot.

I don't work with idiots.

They get you killed.

Yeah, well, you don't

pick the crew, l do.

And I say he's in.

You don't like it, f*** you.

- What would my end be?

- Figure 600 grand, give or take.

- How's that Lincoln running?

- Like a burnt dead dog.

Good boy!

That's a good boy!

Go, Jaws! Go!

Yeah, that's a good boy.

Bucky!

What the hell!

What do you want to sneak up

on me like that for, huh, Bucky?

That's some tight-ass security

you got going here, Ray Bob.

I thought you was

the damn supervisor.

Oh, hell, Bucky.

There ain't nothing here

to guard anyway.

- So what's up?

- A job's what's up.

Set us up for a good long time.

Yeah?

I don't know, Bucky.

- I mean, Alma's got me

on such a short leash and all.

- Knock it off...

you p*ssy-whipped son of a b*tch.

I'm going out on the line

for you here.

You ain't exactly

everybody's first choice.

Really?

Wh-When-When's this

supposed to happen?

- We hit the road tomorrow.

Going to Mexico.

- What am I gonna tell Alma?

- I don't care what you tell her.

You just pack a bag, bring your .45

and be ready to roll at high noon.

Get some sleep.

- Twice a day.

- Si, senor.

Hey, Buck, C.W.

Nice ride, Jesus.

- Well, l had to

tell her something.

Ray Bob,

we don't need this sh*t.

Ready.

El Coyote?

What's that mean in American, Jesus?

The coyote.

- It ideal.

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