Nothing to Lose Page #4

What? Oh, come on, man.

This sh*t is the sh*t.

- This is the sh*t.

It's supposed to make you sad.

- It's grim.

Oh, man, come on.

This is the sh*t.

This sh*t is the sh*t.

This is the hellifed love music.

- I'm in bad shape over here.

- Ah, man, you know, maybe I can...

tune you in to a nice A.M. Station

and get you some Donny Osmond.

- Charlie, what's this? Slow down.

- Get the f*** out of here.

Pull over and

turn the headlights off.

Yo, man, you could've

gotten me a piece of licorice.

- It's sour.

- So.

Still could've gotten me a piece.

- I didn't think of it.

- Oh, you didn't think of it.

Just selfsh, man.

Guess that's the world.

- You know? You just... You just selfsh.

- Here.

Damn.

I swear, white people must got

totally different taste buds, man.

That's a very

racist thing to say.

Oh, yeah? Good.

What the f...

- Oh, sh*t!

- Whoa, they're rammin' us.

Thanks for the late-breakin' news.

Step on the gas, Nick!

I hate new cars.

Whoa!

Look at his face, man.

Look, man!

Our turf, baby.

They don't look like cops.

Defnitely not cops.

Get out of the car.

- There you go.

- All right, motherfuckers,

back the f*** off!

Oh, sh*t. It's cool.

Oh, yeah, I'm cool.

We cool.

I was just f***in'

with y'all, man.

Hey, what's up?

Y'all-Y'all live around here?

Bring your ass

around the front of the car.

Come on, baby. Come on, baby.

There you go. There you go.

- All right. Okay. Oh, sh*t.

- Uh-huh. Watch your feet.

- Uh-huh.

Come on, rubber legs. Let's go.

Watch where you're walkin'.

Watch... Watch your feet.

There you go, baby.

Perhaps you two haven't heard

that my partner and I here...

own the rights to all violent crime

on this particular stretch of highway.

And we don't take kindly to any

unauthorized criminal activities.

You don't understand.

We were...

- Oh, sh*t.

- That's my car.

- Can I have your attention, please?

- Yeah.

I bet you used to sell more Girl Scout

cookies than any other member

of the whole troop, didn't ya?

What were you calling yourself back

then? Yolanda, you little b*tch?

Cynthia? Susan? What was it?

I can't remember.

- Hey, guys, I will be gentle.

Don't even worry about it.

- Huh?

Now... Now, don't even worry.

Uh-huh.

I have these.

Oh, now that's not

gonna be enough.

Where'd you put your booty?

Now I've done it. I fnally found

someone I like less than you.

Sh*t. That's

a fancy case, friend.

You know, when a sweet-mouthed girl

like you has a fancy case like this...

a man gets to thinkin'

where's the wallet?

That's it.

We're dead, man.

I'm gonna need

that wallet, Alice.

Where's that big, fat wallet?

Give it to me.

Give me your f***in' wallet,

you little b*tch.

- You know what?

- Nick, Nick, what you doin'?

I'm sure you're

a really scary guy.

I'm sure that, normally, people just

quiver at the very sound of your voice.

But, you see, I, I can't

see that right now.

L-l-I just see a weak,

desperate little man...

that probably grew up

torturing little animals.

Some puny, little uncoordinated...

can't-make-the-football-team-

so-I'll-pick-on-third-graders-

and-steal-their-lunch-money...

punk, jerk-off bully...

that one day wakes up

and realizes he's nothing.

Just a sad, pathetic, useless,

illiterate piece of inbred sh*t.

I just want you to know,

I totally disagree.

- Time to die.

- That just makes you my best friend.

All right,

drop the f***in' gun.

Drop the f***in' gun!

Give me this, motherf***er.

Now back the f*** up before

I kick you in your b*tch-ass chin.

Back the f*** up!

I said, back the f*** up!

Didn't I say, back the f*** up?

Everybody, back the f*** up.

Oh!

Sh*t.

- You shot me.

- I'm sorry, Nick.

- Put down the gun.

- Shut up.

- You shot me.

- I said, I'm sorry, man.

L-l-I didn't mean it.

The gun just went off.

You know, I have that

same trouble in bed.

Well, rarely. Every once

in a great while.

- Put down that gun, you idiot.

- Would you shut up? I'm shot here.

You shut the f*** up.

Who the hell do you think you are?

- You shut the f*** up!

You shut the f*** up!

- Huh? Look at yourself, you candy-ass...

- Man, you shut the f*** up.

- You shut the f*** up.

- Shut up!

- Put down the gun!

- Hey, hey, hey!

- Put that f***ing gun down

before you take a f***ing toe hit.

- You shut the f*** up!

- I don't give a sh*t!

- Shut the f*** up!

- Candy-ass motherf***er!

- Shut the f*** up, man!

- Shut the f*** up!

- Hey, hey, hey!

Hey! Everybody,

shut the f*** up!

Now, everybody,

shut the f*** up!

Especially you.

Shut the f*** up.

You like Girl Scout cookies?

Come here. Come here.

You want cookie?

Here's a cookie.

Now back the f*** up like I done

told you two dumb-ass mother...

Back up, back up.

Get in the car, Nick!

Look at you now.

That's good.

Bye, cowboys!

Nick, why the hell you start up

with that guy, man?

- You shot me.

- I'm sorry.

- You shot me.

- I'm sorry.

You don't say you're sorry

when you shoot someone.

You say you're sorry when

you step on someone's toe...

or you accidentally

break their glasses...

or you, you fart

while they're eating.

You... You don't say you're sorry

when you shoot someone!

Sh*t.

Oh, my God. It's going numb.

It's going numb. It's going numb.

What?

Sh*t.

Oh, my God!

Nick, that's the most

hideous thing I ever seen.

Hey, yo, man, you know,

maybe if you wrap your arm in ice...

they can reattach it.

That's funny, man.

- That's a baby gash.

- Shut up.

- But it's a baby gash.

- It could've been a lot worse.

It could've been a lot worse!

- It could've been,

but it wasn't. I'm gonna...

- What are you thinking, shooting?

Look, just calm down,

all right?

You're gonna upset your wound.

Yeah. Do you folks

want a lift somewhere?

- Where you from?

- London.

- Me too!

- Really?

- Yeah!

- That's terrifc.

Hop in me car. Let's go then.

Come on. Jump in. Let's go.

- Oh, this is great.

- Hey, would you scoot over a smidgen?

Sorry about that.

Cheers, mate.

- Nick Beam.

- Where we headed?

L.A.

City of Angels.

So where you plan

on stayin' tonight?

- I'll just sleep in the car.

- Yeah, right.

You can stay at my place,

brother.

Thanks.

Well, just for the night.

What? Did you think

I was asking you to move in?

- No, I was just sayin'...

- Please, Mr Beam.

- Stay with me forever.

- Just shut up.

- Mr Beam.

- Shut up.

- Mr Beam, Mr Beam, Mr Beam.

- You know how to shut up?

- Mr Beam.

- Is it in your vocabulary?

- Stay with me forever, Mr Beam.

- Is it possible? Do you ever shut up?

Will you stay with me

forever, Mr Beam?

Look here.

When you meet my wife...

she don't know nothin'

about my sideline gig.

- You mean she doesn't know

you're a thief?

- Hey, I'm not a thief, okay?

I just dabble

in future used goods.

- Well, what does she think

you do all day?

- Look for work, man.

Maybe if you did look for work,

you wouldn't have to steal.

Don't judge me.

You stepped on my shoe.

See, I don't usually

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