Killing Hasselhoff Page #3

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and I really enjoy beating the sh*t

out of people who steal from me.

I just need a little breathing room.

Mr Kim, you should consider

your breathing room

is the fact that you are now

currently still breathing.

Now you gave me your word

that you would give me the 400K

on a date

that we both agreed upon, Mr Kim.

If one man cannot take another

man's word, all order is lost.

And still, Mr Kim, I'm rooting for you.

Nick, however, not so much.

You have 72 hours beginning now, Mr Kim.

OK. Thank you, sir.

You could have supported me just

a little bit more with the bread story.

You and your hyperbole.

Now it's a whole loaf?

I'm being hyperbolic?

Yes! It's a whole loaf that he's

stuffing into a pair of drawstring...

That's the whole point of the story.

It starts nice with a little scrap.

I mean, he's looking at me like,

then what, then what?

You said pantaloons.

You said pantaloons.

- That's exactly what he was wearing.

- Whatever. OK.

- That's what I had.

- Maybe you're right.

I had dungarees, he had pantaloons

and I watched him stuffing it.

It might have been a bun.

- Maybe you're right.

- Go f*** yourself.

Let's go down the list.

I'm accused of dealing drugs,

serving alcohol to a minor,

sexual assault on that minor,

so Ann kicked me out.

Plus, I owe 400 grand

to a goddamn psychopath

and my last-hope investor

lost his f***ing mind.

- Ah, Fish.

- Yeah, Fish. His brain melted.

A 5150. A 72-hour psychiatric hold.

This is some heavy sh*t.

- Why'd you go to Wasserstein?

- Because I'm desperate, Tommy.

I will help you with anything you need.

So you'll lend me the money?

I would love to give you the money

but I don't have the money, OK?

Work's not going great.

The last two shows failed.

Look, if Redneck Atheist works out,

then we're good,

but I gotta tell you

this thing's been real hard to cast.

No, no. No, no.

Thanks. It's my sh*t storm

so I'll take care of it.

I'll tell you what I can do.

I can talk to Ann. She trusts me.

I'll go over there and explain

that you don't touch kids any more.

Come on!

Sh*t!

Come on!

F***! F***! F*** you! F***!

Sh*t!

Oh, come on!

Fresh garbage, buddy.

David Hasselhoff? Yeah!

This will fetch so many Deutschmarks

on the market.

Even the hobo loves the Hoff.

Let me guess. German.

Why does everyone keep saying that?

It's so strange.

But enough about me.

What's wrong with you? You look so sad.

You're like a sad, sad man.

Speak to me, sad man, of your sadness.

I feel like the whole world

is taking a gigantic piss on my head.

I can relate to this so hard. Just this

morning a Schnauzer pissed on my face.

But it's OK. It's karma. You know why?

Because two days ago

I was urinating on his face. What?

When life shits on you,

you sh*t right back.

Yes. That actually makes

a lot of sense right now.

I know, right? It's why I fling faeces

at people I don't like.

Not you, though. You're very, very nice.

You're like a Mr Miyagi with a toupee

minus 20 years and 20 pounds.

You're, like, waxing on and off

all day long! I love you!

Also, can I give you a hand job

for a dollar?

- No?

- How about a beer?

- OK.

- You like to drink, probably?

Yes, I'm a raging alcoholic.

Sh*t!

Hey. The hand job's on me.

You eyeing me now? You want a go?

You judge me all you want!

It ain't my fault Mama's Family

was cancelled in 1986.

And like the Dark Knight said,

it is always darkest before the dawn.

I'm a good person

and I'm stronger than you know

and I will persevere with my dignity!

Annie? I'm not breaking in.

I really need to talk to you.

Sh*t's gone really bad.

I'm so sorry

about what happened the other night.

I said a lot of things that I regret.

Annie?

No, no, no. Chris, hey, hey.

Jesus Christ! Really, you chose

to come out of the shower right now?

- What are you doing here?

- What am I doing here? What...?

So you said you were gonna talk to Ann?

- I did talk...

- Huh, pal?

I did talk to her!

- Chris!

- Chris!

Where's Susan?

I don't know.

It's a sebaceous cyst.

It's not a big deal.

F***! F***!

When life shits on you...

you sh*t right back.

- Hi, Fish.

- Hey.

I don't know how to play this game.

- Is that moustache real?

- Of course it's real.

I'm sorry, you're...

You're looking good.

- Do you want a grilled cheese sandwich?

- No, I'm fine.

You sure?

I had the nurse make it. It's Colby.

I'm actually in the middle

of a very exciting experiment.

Every day I get a different sandwich

with the same cheese in it.

Which cheese is winning?

Well, it's the same cheese every time.

It's a Colby.

If you're not gonna eat that...

it's gonna go to waste.

Because I'm telling you now,

Sebastian will not touch it.

He's over there. Look.

Lifting weights. Look at him.

So muscly.

Don't stare at him.

That's what he wants you to do.

He likes it when you look.

God, I'm so sorry.

You really lost your mind.

I don't think I've lost it.

I think it's been misplaced.

- That's why I'm here.

- Yeah.

I'm looking for it.

Searching around, you know?

While we're on the subject

of losing minds,

I feel like I've misplaced mine.

- I heard that you molested some kids.

- No. No...

- What the f*** you doing that for?

- No.

I'm going off what I heard.

I just found out

that Ann is f***ing Tommy.

What the f***?!

- Ann is actually Tommy?

- No, no, no. No.

That makes sense!

You can see it. They're never

in the same room at the same time.

No, they are. They are. A lot.

They're in the same room a lot.

That makes no sense.

No, my best friend is f***ing Ann!

I am not! You know what?

You get out! Security!

G'day, mate.

Just another grilled cheese sandwich.

- Yep. Two eyes. One pointer.

- Not you. Tommy!

- Right.

- Yeah.

I see.

I'm not your best friend.

I meant to say...

Tommy's my second-best friend.

Good. OK. That's more like it.

In fact, that's classic

second-best-friend behaviour.

I feel for you.

My life is in shambles, man.

The only way I can deal with it is...

I have to kill Hasselhoff.

Yeah. It's the only way

to turn my life around.

To win the death pool money.

- He's had a pretty good life.

- Yes, yeah.

Exactly. I'm not a murderer. I don't

want to do this. I'm not like Dexter.

- F***, no. You're not Dexter.

- No.

- You kidding me?

- Yeah.

- He plans things out. He's meticulous.

- Thank you.

Just keep things on the down.

Before Sebastian and I became buddies

I actually wrote a list in my journal

of the many ways

I wanted to kill Sebastian.

Now, it's pretty much endless.

Well, it's three pages, but...

Check it out. Look.

Gun, OK?

Rope. Candlestick.

I was playing a board game at the time

when I came up with those ones.

Horse accident. Is he into horses?

- No.

- I don't think so.

A monkey attack.

Scarf caught on sidecar.

- You got a sidecar? No.

- No.

Mortal Kombat?

- That's a game.

- Yeah.

Bullfight.

Difficult.

Funny berries?

Just sort of get him to come over.

Hey, look at these funny berries

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