Green Room Page #5

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-Werm found out

that she was leaving...

But she didn't say

that it was with you.

"Meat grinder."

That song was their cue.

-You should go.

-Clark:

Here we go.

-This is taking too long.

Gabe?

You didn't want Daniel

on door duty.

Why?

-Nothing concrete, he and...

And Emily...

-Little lovebirds.

Recognize this?

-No, sir.

-Of course not.

You were still handing out

leaflets when these boys

made their bones.

It's from last easter.

Supposed to disappear

after the boot party.

-He just started talking.

Amber's alive

saying werm did it.

-Never mind that.

You...

Werm saved us all.

-Sam?

It's okay.

I mean,

it's not okay.

-You didn't know either?

-Pat:
He's with us.

-Not where.

-Pat:

We gotta split.

-This has a wider duct, I think.

-Pat:

We're not gonna

fit through there.

Sam:
Oh!

-Daniel, um, he can help.

-Why?

Who's he?

-A traitor. If they don't

already know, they know now.

I can get us out of here.

-Wow. A conspiracy.

-No, just a cluster-f***.

-There is still blades

and fangs for the visitors,

but we are getting

lean on time.

Now, if you have

to shoot, shoot once.

If more than once,

keep it a tight grouping

'cause you'll be digging

the slugs out yourself.

As for Daniel and Amber,

they can...

What did we forget?

-There's a river on two sides.

The quarry's on another.

We can parallel

the main road back,

go for help.

-Well, how do we get

past the door?

-I know something you don't.

-Sam:

Good. What?

-I know where we keep--

--too slow.

-Should we go?

Now?

-We have the gun.

I guess.

-Yes.

-Sam:

Yes!

-Give me two.

-Easy! Not her!

--Don't fire!

-Clark:

Fass! Fass!

Fass!

-Sam:

Go!

-Sam!

-Sam!

-We're never getting out.

-F***.

-You know, I'm lucky.

I guessed at least

they were gonna shoot me.

-Three'll do, gentlemen.

The fourth can disappear.

It's time to start

the clean-up.

I'm gonna need

a push broom.

This is supposed to

have happened already.

Time to sprint.

-All:
Yes, sir.

-Darcy:

Well done.

-Thank him.

-Nearly got away

from me. Us.

-Shouldn't we be panicking?

-I'm hungry.

-I can't die here with you.

-So don't.

You know, feel free just to...

Hey, I want the rest

of your pep talk.

-Oh, no.

It no longer applies.

-Oh, come on.

I'm curious.

It was paintballing...

You were cowering...

-Yeah, Rick silva.

We were getting slaughtered

by these legit Iraq vets.

-It totally applies.

-Full camo, thousand-dollar

automatic paintball guns.

They knew real war

and they played real war.

Tactics, hand signals, flanking.

Just wiped us all out.

So Rick gets fed up

and says, "f*** it."

Didn't care

about getting shot.

Didn't care about taking cover.

It was hopeless, man.

So the last match,

the whistle blows,

and he just

tears out there,

full jackass, in--

in sneakers and cut-offs

and he... wipes out

their whole team.

Doesn't stop.

Just keeps running

and laughing and shooting...

Until they're all dead.

-Pretend dead.

And we're up

against real guns.

-Yeah.

Either way,

we can't play real war.

-Let's pretend.

-For you.

We're just mopping up tonight.

You already earned these.

Maybe push Neal,

depending on the mess,

to start looking

for a new house band.

We've really gotta get

back to a routine.

-You think cowcatcher's

gonna talk?

-I'm more worried

about their habits.

Really have to stay away

from that n*gger dope.

There's a bad batch

doing the rounds.

-We're good to go.

We're set.

-Darcy:

This all hinges on nothing

having happened here.

Now, let's be clear.

-Clark:

This should keep him alive

for another hour.

I would consider it

a personal favor

if he dies with meat

in his teeth.

Come on. Come on.

-Bite command is "fass."

It's all you'll need.

-Disregard. Just shoot

who is left.

They don't have to

be accounted for.

Forensics is

no longer a concern.

We call this in late,

all is for naught.

-You guys got

any 12 Gauge?

-Not in the office.

Try the bar.

-How many shots you have left?

-Kyle:
Three.

-So you have one extra.

-No shells.

-Jonathan:

Behind the bar.

Better get started.

--Sh*t!

-Jonathan:

Easy! Easy!

Easy!

--No buckshot!

-Gabe:

What's happening?

-Dog freaked.

And turn this sh*t off!

-I tried! It's not coming

from our mixer.

-Go! We got this.

And don't tell Darcy.

Or Clark.

We going?

-Yeah.

Hey!

-Pat:

Down there, you dip-sh*t fashion

punk clown motherfuckers!

-Turn around!

-Pat:
Shazbot!

-What? What--

who is that?

-Odin himself.

-Give me the shotgun.

-No, I got the shotgun.

-Then you go down

this f***ing hole.

-Three shots?

-Yeah.

You hear me fire twice,

you come down no matter what.

-This is a trap.

-Yeah, no sh*t.

You wanna go tell Darcy?

He's gonna be pissed.

Watch my back.

F*** this.

Get Gabe, man!

We need two down here

and one up there.

Who's got the nine?

-I think Alan does,

but I'm not sure--

--oh, f***! Block it!

-Amber:

Pat!

He's got three shots left!

-B*tch.

Gabe!

-Pat:

Amber!

-Yeah?

-Uh...

Never mind!

-Amber:

Two shots left!

-Nice f***in' try!

Go f*** yourself!

-Sh*t. Sh*t.

Oh, sh*t!

-Amber:

Pat!

One shot left!

-F***.

-Zero.

-Oh, sh*t!

-Get off of me!

-Got him.

-Totally.

Flabbergasted that motherf***er.

-If I had any idea...

-Amber:

Anymore dogs?

-People?

-No. Not here.

They're... up the road.

I don't want to go to jail.

-Does anyone know

how to hotwire a car?

-No.

-I'd stay off

the road anyway.

-Are you gonna shoot me?

-Where's werm?

-We sent him home--

-stay quiet till we're out.

- It's the residents.

-What are they doing?

-Something you don't

want to see.

-We can call the cops

when we get to the orchard.

-Did you see them die?

-Two.

Not the third.

-I think I'm going.

-You can call the cops

when you get there.

If you disappear,

I'll find you.

-I will.

I promise.

-You should go, too.

Just hedge our bets.

-You got three rounds...

And I've seen

you pump a shotgun.

- Fair enough.

Do you believe him?

- Shh.

Nimm futter!

Nimm futter!

-Clark:

Nimm futter!

Nimm futter!

Nimm futter!

-Alan:
Jesus.

- Nimm futter!

-Alan:

That ought to be enough.

-Clark:

Lass es! Lass es!

Lass es!

-So ist's brav.

Aus. Aus.

Wipe it down!

-Do you think they'd

leave the engine on?

-Clark:

Yeah. It'll run

the Gauge down too.

Let's call this in.

Aus. Aus.

-You got the dog?

-I got the dog.

Tie him up.

-Give me your gun.

-I don't have one.

-I'll shoot you either way

if you don't hand me one.

Throw it.

-They're making it our fault.

-You were trespassing.

-Pat:

It looks fishy to me.

The cloth is

to make it seal.

I wouldn't do it like that.

-They got my gun.

-Shut up.

-Clark:
Listen--

-so we're doing that?

-Why else would

we walk up here?

-Pat:

I don't know.

And I was gonna...

Ruin the crime scene.

-Oh.

I thought we'd

leave a new one.

-This...

Is a nightmare.

-For us all.

-Tell me those stupid f***ing

words are his last.

-Do you have a phone?

It's funny.

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