Killing Hasselhoff Page #5

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and by the way the Fat Albert call-backs

are down the street.

- Fat Albert?

- Hey, d*ckhead!

What about me? Am I normal?

More or less, midget John Stamos.

- F*** you, man.

- Let me go.

- OK!

- Hey! Hey!

Hey, hey, hey!

Get the buoy!

Ladies and gentlemen,

the Hoff will take a ten-minute break.

- He'll be back to sign your autographs.

- But don't worry.

There's a huge after party at my house.

Excuse me.

Could we wrap up this beating, please?

- I have other things to do today.

- No!

Yeah, that worked out well.

Obviously I suck at murdering.

And now my life is about

to get a whole lot more complicated.

You Nick?

So Redix, huh?

What's that?

First name, last name, nickname?

One word. Redix. Like Madonna.

Cher. Jewel.

Redix.

Chocolate cake. OK.

So, Redix, are you up to speed

on what Wasserstein needs you to do?

Oh, yeah, baby.

It's a shame, though.

I'm a fan of David Hasselhoff.

- Yeah.

- He a beautiful man.

Tall. Wonderful hair. Sexy motherf***er.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean.

Got, like, that Tom Selleck thing going

on. You know what I'm saying?

Except without the Selleck 'stache.

Could you imagine Hasselhoff

with a Selleck 'stache?

Damn. I'm getting hard

just thinking about that.

- What, are you gay?

- Yeah, you got a problem with that?

No! I just... I mean, I would never...

I mean, look at...

Yeah, I get it.

You're f***ing with me. That's good.

You almost got me.

Didn't your mom ever tell you

not to judge a book by its cover?

- Yeah, but...

- But? But? But nothing.

Let's get one thing straight.

I'm a gigantic rage-filled

mocha-skinned badass

and I kill people for a living.

So, yeah, my cover's hard as f***.

But inside it's a gay-ass book, baby.

Who's a motherf***er gotta blow

to get some milk around here?

- Here, take my milk.

- I ain't drinking your milk!

- Why not?

- That's gross.

- You took my cake.

- Cake's one thing. Milk's another.

A man needs his own cup of milk.

You put d*cks in your mouth

and you won't drink my milk?

You pour some milk inside a dick,

I'll drink that sh*t.

But I ain't drinking it

out of your nasty-ass cup.

- You people confuse the hell outta me.

- Black people?

- No! Gay people.

- OK. OK.

I'm fine with that. That's confusing

to some people. I get it.

After having the sh*t kicked out

of me by those Hoff-loving carnies,

it was time for plan B.

Hey, man. You Korean?

- Nah, Chinese, dude.

- Close enough.

Gena Lee Nolin. You still look hot.

- Twenty years and you still look hot.

- Thank you.

- You look the same as on Baywatch.

- Thank you!

You got my money, funny boy?

Winslow! Holy mother of God,

you scared the sh*t out of me.

Grapefruit juice.

I haven't slept in days, player.

You know what's up.

Life in the service industry.

You know what I'm sayin', player?

Gotta take care

of Mr Jack Hoff over there.

Jack Hoff!

Cos he's a jack-off.

Do you know how many orgies this guy

ruined with his weird sound effects?

I mean, God. The old favourite?

- Oh, please.

- Oh, God.

Mr Hasselhoff, I know you don't indulge.

No, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Everybody, listen up!

A toast! They say in life

there are no second acts.

And what do I say to them?

F*** Hoff!

I mean, sometimes there's five acts

and the finale!

And then an encore!

To the encore!

Robot needs juice.

Do you ever stop?

Is there anyone at this party I like?

- Me?

- How about a three-way?

Rick Fox.

The most attractive man in the NBA.

David Hasselhoff.

The most attractive man in Hollywood.

- Hoff and the Fox!

- Yeah!

Fox and the Hoff!

Well, see you around.

- Let's do this again sometime.

- OK.

Caitlyn Jenner.

You haven't changed a bit!

Come here, you old motherf***er.

I need everybody's attention!

No, no, no, no!

- All right...

- Save him! Weren't you a lifeguard?

No. No, I just played one on TV.

Better save him, David.

It's a huge liability.

Sh*t!

Why is he running in slow motion?

OK. All right. OK.

All right.

One, two, three, four, five. Breathe.

He's not breathing. I need some help.

Little man, come here, help me.

OK, when I say breathe, you breathe.

One, two, three, four, five. Breathe.

One, two, three, four, five.

Breathe, little man.

One, two, three, four, five.

Come on, Michael, come on.

Yeah.

Oh, no.

He's choking. Hang on, I got you,

I got you, I got you.

All right, little man, you OK?

Barry! Where the hell have you been?

I just saved two people's lives.

You were in there getting a hand job.

You are fired for the next five minutes

until I calm down.

I think The Black Keys got their name

from this toy keyboard, which is odd.

You never hear about the white keys.

They'd be a bigger group.

They must have come here at some point.

- Focus.

- Foc... I'm in the focus group.

- No, no, no. What's going on?

- I'm focusing.

Now. Now. What's going on?

Yesterday we had soup, but it was off.

They said it was seafood chowder.

It was just off. Tonight it's Scrabble

night. I'm the only one playing.

Chris is gonna kill Hasselhoff.

Line up your slippers.

- Go back. Go back.

- Line up your slippers?

Chris is gonna...

Chris is gonna kill Hasselhoff.

I gotta go find Hoff's house.

No, he's gonna kill Hassel...

I tried to stop him!

But I may have given him

some murder ideas.

Sebastian, they weren't meant for you.

They were not meant for you.

They were meant for you, but we changed.

We're a mended bridge.

Do you like The Black Keys?

Barry!

Hi, David.

Hey, you really gotta read this script.

It's about the guy

that founded Toys For Tits.

Tots. Toys For Tots.

Toys For Tits. That's a better title.

Now that's a script I'd read.

OK, so nothing I tried

was Working to off the Hoff.

This guy just won't die. So I had

to resort to more drastic measures.

Excuse me, little girl.

Do you know of any Glocks in the area?

Hi, hi, hi. Excuse me.

Hi. Hi.

What's up, bro? Can I help you, man?

Yeah, I would... I'd...

- I don't know how to phrase this.

- Phrase what, amigo?

- Spit it out, bro.

- A gun.

- I... I need a gun. A gun.

- You're asking me for a gun?

So you assume because I'm Latino

and I'm walking down the street

that I just know

where you can get a gun, bro?

OK, when you put it that way,

I understand...

You're in my heart, bro.

I like to think in this day and age,

with the colour of my skin,

it doesn't dictate whether

I know where you can buy a gun.

No, it's not about the colour...

What else do you want? Drugs?

An empanada recipe? Let me guess.

Directions to George Lopez's house?!

Please don't stab me in the neck.

I'm a bleeder.

Got you!

Homie, I'm just messing with you, bro.

I was workshopping my Latino accent.

Check it, check it, check it, check it.

I'm an actor.

Yeah, Big-Time Rush. You ever see that?

No, no.

No? F*** it. Look...

I am now selling guns as my day job.

- Oh, how wonderful!

- Yeah.

- I love it when actors get work.

- Yeah, man. Do you have 300 bucks?

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