Highway

Ice tea, Jack?

Sure, Mrs. Miranda.

Sure is hot,

isn't it, Jack?

It sure is, Mrs. Miranda.

Please, call me Jilly.

Sure, Mrs. Miranda.

Um, Jilly.

I like that...

the way my name sounds...

coming off your lips.

Jack and Jilly.

Jack and Jilly

went up the hilly.

What are you doing?

Relax, Jack.

Mrs. Miranda,

where is Mr. Miranda?

Wait, Jack.

What?

What are you doing?

What?!

It was too quick.

It was

too f***ing quick.

What are you

talking about?

Quiver, quake,

tremble a little.

I didn't feel

any nervousness.

It was just like

the last time...

and the time before.

Just like last time

and the time before?

Jack and Jilly?

Jack and Jilly

went up the hilly?

How many times

are you going to use...

Jack and Jilly

went up the hilly?

I like Jack and Jilly

went up the hilly.

Yeah, I know you do.

Well, listen, pal...

this is my f***ing

fantasy.

When you get

your own pool...

you can orchestrate

your own fantasies.

Fine.

Two words for you,

little man.

Jackie F***ing Collins.

Bone up.

Jack and Jilly

went up the hilly...

to get a pail of water.

Give it to me!

What in f***'s sake

is going on here?

Burt!

I can explain.

You see what

I just did there?

I was beginning

to suspect things.

You see, Jack?

I see.

He raped me, Burt.

He raped me!

Jilly, Jilly...

shut up!

You want to do something

about that thing?

Burt! No, Burt!

Mr. Miranda...

The pool guy.

The pool guy.

You know what

upsets me most...

hand to god...

is that you are

a great pool guy, Jack.

When Salvatore

was our pool guy...

I could never open

my eyes underwater.

There was too much chlorine,

they burned for a week.

But with you,

my eyes are always open.

I can play that game.

You know, the one

where I toss a penny...

in the deep end...

and then go hunt for it.

With Salvatore...

I could never

play that game.

You weren't-

No, Burt!

This smells like sh*t.

It's because they're

grown in sh*t.

You look at them?

They're blue,

means they're good.

Pilot!

What's it going to be?

I only have

30 bucks.

Pilot!

Look, just forget it,

all right?

Go read a book.

Ladies and gentlemen,

I give you Jack Hayes...

the God of F***.

Bro, you're never going to

believe this sh*t!

I am so f***ing f***ed.

I just had a-

I already heard, dude.

You heard?

Yeah, Dylan

and Wheezer were by.

Yo, what did they say?

Whatever, dude,

they're voids.

The point is, Jack,

can you find someone...

a little more

dangerous to f***?

No.

But I tried, bro,

I really f***ing did.

How was it?

Oh, man, it was sick.

Give it to me.

Give it to me.

He shoves a .45

straight up my f***ing nose.

Grabbed this lamp-

Yeah, dude.

Did you nut?

Come on, Pilot.

No, of course not.

Because no girl

is worthy...

of the God of F***.

So what are you

going to do?

About what?

You've got to get

the hell out of Dodge.

What are you

talking about, man?

Burt Miranda.

Yeah?

Yeah, Burt Miranda!

Yeah, I know Burt Miranda,

I was just in his bed.

You've got to bolt, Jack!

What do you mean,

I've got to bolt?

Do you know how much

he paid for those tits?

No, how much did

he pay for those titties?

No sympathy, man.

I got no sympathy for you!

Come on.

I've been telling

you for months-

Jilly Miranda

is black death.

You don't listen.

You don't listen.

Yeah, sweet Connie.

Y'all remember sweet Connie?

Single, no kids...

full-blown football

scholarship to State.

It all changed

when that...

Delilah-eyed

sweet, sweet Connie...

moved to town.

Jerry, Rodney, Shaker,

Dale, Big Bill, Clark.

Dad, the name's Dad.

Little Bootie.

Nice work with Jilly.

What?

I said,

nice work with Jilly.

You heard, too?

Look, the thing

about owning a pecker...

is you've got to be

responsible with it.

Check it out, Bootie...

Clark's doling out

some fatherly advice.

He's drunk.

I'm not drunk.

Just a little happy.

Yo, Bootie.

I got to take off.

I know.

For a while.

Maybe a long while.

Yeah.

Late.

Late.

You know,

the inside of her thigh...

Texture like

I never came across again.

Hey, Mrs. Kelson.

Pilot ain't in.

He's at school.

He graduated two years ago,

Mrs. Kelson.

Whatever.

Where's your boy, Hayes?

Which boy

would that be?

Jack.

Everybody know

these fellas?

Work for Burt Miranda.

Used to call you

'Miranda's Pandas.'

What are we going to do?

Well, we're not

going to play...

the 'is it me?' game

again, all right?

Not again.

OK.

All right.

But is it me?

No.

What is it?

A war wound.

Really?

Maybe.

But you do think I'm hot.

Pilot!

Oh, sorry, Pi.

Pilot, I got

to talk to you.

Bye, Lucy.

Bye.

Pandas came

by Propane Lane.

Oh, let the games begin.

Look, he won't kill you,

all right?

That's for sure.

I mean, he's too rich...

he's paved

half the valley...

he's got major juice.

Every wiseguy

and high roller...

comes through Vegas knows

Burt Miranda.

So if he won't kill me,

what does he want?

You know, every hoodlum

has his thing.

Burt Miranda's is,

he has the Pandas...

break the feet

of his enemy.

Break my feet?

Break my feet?!

He ain't

breakin' my feet.

Broken feet are the worst,

like black death.

Totally gothic.

I mean, like,

you can't use crutches,

you can't sit

in a wheelchair...

because the weight

distribution...

making all the blood

flow to your ankles...

and making it worse.

You can't do sh*t.

I mean, you hobble.

No, no, you stumble.

You stumble about.

It's completely gothic.

He ain't

breakin' my feet.

He is if he bags you.

Well, he ain't

baggin' me.

Because

we're out of here.

'We?'

Yeah, we.

Oh, man,

I told you, Jack!

I've got a lot of things

going on here!

Pilot,

you're a lifeguard...

in a therapy pool,

for Christ's sake.

Look, I got to go

to Scawldy's and cash out...

I got to take Lucy

back to work...

I got to rent videos...

I got to pick up some

TV dinners for my mom-

You've been talking...

about leaving

the Veg for-for-

since you were two!

This is enough. No!

Come on!

I'm out of here!

Bro-

No! !

Bro, it'll be like...

Luke Duke,

and the other guy.

Really?

Yeah.

No!

God!

What am I

supposed to do?

You should

go to Seattle.

Seattle?

Definitely Seattle.

Why Seattle?

Does the phrase,

'What the f***...

'difference does it

make to your ass, Jack...

you ain't got no place else to

go,'

mean anything to you

right now?

All right, all right!

God, just tell me why.

Pop quiz.

Go.

Number of furious

kill boys...

that want to make

wine out of your feet?

Three.

Number of options

you've got?

Well, you know...

Number of options

you've got, Jack?

I've got an aunt

in South Dakota.

-Jack. -What?

Number of options

you've got?

Few.

Destination?

Seattle?

Perfect score.

Gold star, Jacky.

Higher,

bring it higher.

Get it all.

No f***ing around.

Come on, bro.

Keep it steady,

hold it steady.

What's up, ladies?

Boys! What up!

What's up, Jack?

Jack!

The God of F***, bro!

Bro, Jilly Miranda.

Oh, no. Hello?

Hello? Bad dick!

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