Green Room Page #4

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Gentlemen, I hope

you appreciate the situation.

Things have gone south,

no doubt.

But you know if you don't

hand over that gun,

it won't end well.

You see...

For all I know, i--

i come to my place of business

and there is

an out of town band

locked in a room

with an unregistered firearm.

-Oh, come on!

-Darcy:
And somebody's hurt

inside there

and maybe there's

a hostage, too!

So what do I do?

Am I within my rights

to intervene?

Should I kick down the door

and start shooting?

Darcy:
Or...

Can we just remove

the guns from the equation?

These are my questions.

You've got

30 seconds to answer.

-Okay, hold on. Hold on.

Great. Anyone got

any smart ideas?

-Justin, get on the floor.

Get on the f***in' floor

right now. Go.

All right. Sam,

come around here.

Slowly, I want you

to take the gun from me.

-Sam:
Okay.

-Reece:
You got it?

-Sam:
Got it.

-Okay. Nice and easy.

Play nice,

and I'll be nice.

-Sam:

Please.

Don't do anything.

-This is f***in' retarded.

-Pat:
No one's saying it isn't,

but we either hand over the gun

or we open fire with it.

-I vote for that.

-You don't have a vote, okay?

--I mean we're taking

chances either way, so--

-tiger:

So we're f***in' dead, guys.

-At least this way,

we find out

if all we're doing now

is buying time.

-For them.

-Reece:
Amen.

At this point,

I'm just f***ing curious.

-Okay...

We'll give you the gun.

But we're gonna

keep the ammo.

-Darcy:

Fine. Safer for everyone.

-All right, let's move

this f***ing couch.

-Sam:

Okay.

-All right, keep still.

-Okay, stand back!

-Darcy:

You've got it.

-Here we go.

-Darcy:

May I approach?

-Pat:

No!

No. I'm gonna throw it.

-Careful. It was a gift.

-They're killing us!

-Keep the gun!

- Get the f*** off of me!

--Okay, okay!

Okay, okay, okay, okay!

-F*** you!

Tiger:
Oh, my god!

Keep it up! Pull it up!

-Oh f***.

-Yo, help me

move the couch.

-Reece:

Help me move it!

-Pat:

Oh, sh*t!

--This will be over

soon, gentlemen.

-I'll f***in' crush you.

-Reece:

Get the box cutter!

Get the f***ing box cutter

out of his hand!

-Tell me when he's out!

-Okay!

Tiger:
Pat! Pat!

Look at me,

look at me, look at me.

Shush! Shush!

Shush!

-He's out. He's out!

- Oh, f***.

-Put pressure on it!

Put pressure!

-I know, I know, I know.

Just breathe.

Breathe. Breathe.

-Sam:

He's not out!

He's not out!

-You got this?

-How long does it take...

Until we know... for sure?

What the...

-Oh, Jesus.

Oh, Jesus.

-Darcy:

Any and all firearms,

Clark will handle it

from here on.

He give you an e.T.A.?

-You said no calls.

-Right. Good.

Phones too.

-What happened in there?

-Darcy:

Set Neal up for tomorrow

new drywall, pour a floor.

Tell him we had a leak.

Door with a frame, too.

-What happened?

-Uh, a bit of

a maelstrom tonight.

Visiting band hurt

one of ours.

-Daniel:

Who?

-Emily.

-Darcy:

Maybe big Justin, too.

-What the f***

are we doing then?

Let's get in there.

-We're not coming apart

is what we are doing.

We're saving questions

until this pig f*** is

transferred off-site.

--Darcy.

-Okay. Last chance

if anyone needs to take a leak.

-I lost the gun.

-You held on longer

than I would have.

Hey.

I'm going.

There's no air shaft,

there's no sewer system...

No nothing.

-Tiger:

There it is.

-Sam:

What time is it?

-It's not daylight.

-It's something.

-Out the way.

-Tiger:

Oh, f***.

-Look for a door.

-Pat:

Just let me know.

Hey...

I'm sorry

about your friend.

Reece:
Sh*t!

-Okay, move.

-Tiger:

F***!

-Sam:

Is there a lock?

-Other side, maybe.

We're burning time.

-Wait, but...

Look! There's--

there's ventilation!

-Reece:

Six inch ducts.

Good luck.

-Sam:

Shouldn't we look around more?

-Reece:

We just did!

Go. Go, go. Push.

-Amber:

Heroin.

It's not about her or us.

-It's a-- it's

a big ass bunker.

-Tiger:
Give me your hand.

-Reece:
Big ass dead end.

-Tiger:

Give it to me.

Hold it up, up, up.

--All right.

Look away, look away.

-Maybe we can use this

to our advantage.

-Reece:

We're done.

I'm done.

Okay? You can

close the door behind me

if you want to strategize.

-We're not ready!

-What do you think

they're doing out there?

-That's just it.

We don't know.

-We f***ing know

they mean us harm!

- Sam:
It's just that

if have guns,

okay, why haven't

they mowed us down already?

-We can't just go missing.

They need us found.

-All right.

Grab some sh*t

and get ready to run.

-Then we die.

- Yeah, but the longer we wait,

the surer that is.

Tiger, you ready?

-Tiger:
Yeah, almost, man.

-Pat:

We can't take it so seriously.

We gotta...

Treat this like paintball.

-What?

-Rick silva...

Helped organize the paintball

for skate-o's bachelor party.

And we were short a few players

to book the whole field,

so they paired us up

with these ex-marines.

And the first few rounds,

these guys just...

Tore us to shreds.

I mean, zero casualties

on their side.

And I just cowered

behind these trees

till I got shot.

Covered in paint. But Rick--

-Reece:

Tiger, you done?

-Okay.

Pat, you're done, too.

-I'm sorry, man.

We gotta go.

-That's okay.

-Was that a pep talk?

-Tiger:
Ready?

-Reece:

Now we won't all live, but...

I don't know.

Maybe we won't all die.

-Here.

-No, I'm just gonna run.

-Tiger:

I got it.

-All right, f*** it.

Simon and Garfunkel.

Desert island band.

Prince.

-I, uh...

-I'm still the misfits.

-Reece:
True school, man.

-Are we going?

-Sam:

Yeah.

-Madonna and... slayer.

-Here we go.

-Watch it!

-What the f***?

-They're letting us out.

-Reece:

How many exits are there?

-Uh, the main, the back,

maybe the kitchen.

I always--

-what about windows?

-See for yourselves.

-Sam:

F***.

-Quiet.

-Oh, sh*t.

-Should we hide?

-Uh, whatever you want, man.

-Sam:

We-- we should split up.

-Totally.

-Sam:

What the f***?

-Tiger!

- Tiger!

-Oh, sh*t, oh, sh*t.

Sh*t.

Oh, sh*t!

-Save it.

-Oh, sh*t.

-Fass! Fass!

Voran! Fass!

Fass!

-Hey.

-They're everywhere!

Where's Reece?

-Pat:

It's us.

Come on. Move.

Sam, look.

-Fleisch wolf.

-It's a song.

It means "meat grinder."

-Clark:

Up! Up!

So ist's brav.

So ist's brav.

-You're retiring him?

-Clark:

He's worked up.

-Send in another.

Send two.

Finish it.

-Kill that feedback first.

And if I send in two fight dogs,

what do you think they'll do?

-Send me in there.

I'll finish up.

Just give me the rules.

-All right.

Blades only.

Sloppy is fine.

Try not to hit the bone.

-Okay.

-Darcy:

Take Jonathan.

-Brute squad.

-Keep him caged

until we tag out.

-He breathing?

-A little bit, yeah.

-Let him bleed.

Later is better

for time of death.

Keys?

-No.

-They're coming.

-I can't do this.

-Pat:

Get back!

-Sam:

No!

-Where's Emily?

-What the f***

are you doing?

Hey!

-Which one did it?

-Werm did it.

-Daniel:
Bullshit.

Which one?

-What did they tell you?

What? You want to know?

You want him to know?

-Know what?

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