Otis Page #5

Shh!

Here he comes.

F***.

- What the f***...?

Hello, Otis.

How did you get in here?

- Broth. What kind of a name is Broth?

- My kind of f***ing name. Who are you?

- I think you know who we are.

- We? Get the f*** out of my house, b*tch.

Hey.

Get him, Reed.

Come on, motherf***er.

Okay, do it.

- Kate...

Do it.

Christ!

Wait, wait. No.

- I just gotta scoot you back...

For f***ing out loud.

Just get back here, okay?

Just do the goddamn thing.

Hey! Wait, wait, wait.

Whoa. Dude.

Whew.

- Dude.

- Okay, there we go.

Oh...

You know, I'm a little worried because you

might like wires up your ass, Otis.

- I'm not...

- Shut up.

- I'm not Otis.

- You ever hear of Albert Fish?

You know, the Brooklyn Vampire?

He was a pedophile such as yourself.

He used to like to stick needles

in his own perineum.

He thought electrocution

was the ultimate thrill.

- Kate.

- What?

These serial-killing perverts,

they're all alike.

You know, they can't get a woody...

...unless they're doing something

that no sane person would do.

You getting a little blood

to the lower extremities, there, Otis?

Like a little red needle

on your freak meter?

- Honey.

- Are you gonna deny it?

You're gonna deny that you raped

my daughter, that you tortured her...

...that you killed and cut up five other girls

in your little playpen down there?

Yeah, that's right. We found it.

We found it, your little girl's bedroom,

your little sweet 16 party.

Reed?

A Cinderella story.

This guy, this unknown...

...comes out of nowhere

to lead the pack at Augusta.

He's got about 350 yards left.

He's gonna hit about a 5-iron,

don't you think?

He's got a beautiful backswing.

No.

Oh!

He got all of that one.

My God. Somebody's gonna hear us, Kate.

- I know. Do something about it.

- Like what?

I've already smashed him in the face

with a shovel. I've hotwired his rectum.

Rectum. Damn near killed him.

- He's in pain.

- You think?

You think it's anything like the pain

that he inflicted on your only daughter?

- He's crying out.

- I know he's crying out. Shut him up.

I'll do it. I'll burn out his vocal cords.

No, let your father handle this.

Come here, Will.

Kate...

Kate...

What if she's pregnant, Will?

What if right now

this genetic mutant's seed...

...is joining with Riley's beautiful,

young egg:
::

...and his spawn is growing

inside our daughter's belly?

I am the decider, Will, and I am telling you,

shut this serial-killing son of a b*tch up.

I will.

- I will.

No. No!

I'm gonna shut this son of a b*tch up.

It's okay, dear.

I'm Agent Ralph Hotchkiss.

I'm in charge of your investigation,

and I helped find you.

Now, we wanna catch this sicko

for everything that he's done.

So can you tell me anything

about where you were?

I can't remember.

You don't remember? Nothing?

You don't remember anything?

You were just there being raped

by a madman over and over...

...and you remember nothing?

I mean, was it a?

Was it a blue house, was it a pink house?

Nothing. Right.

What about what he looked like, Riley?

Can you help me in that area?

A description of?

I know, what about a name?

Can you give me a name?

So you don't want to know where he is,

just his name?

- I thought you didn't know where he is.

- Right.

Right, I can't tell...

Riley...

What is his name?

Otis.

His name is Otis.

Otis.

That's a nice name.

What's the blender for?

Well, I thought your dad

could cut his fingers and toes off...

...and we could blend them

into a smoothie and make him drink it.

Thinking outside the box. Mom, I like it.

Giddyup.

- Will, wait.

- Yeah?

I don't know if you're gonna get

through the bone with those.

Here, why don't you try this?

Thank you, dear.

- Yeah.

- Christ. Hotchkiss.

- What?

- All right, quiet.

Put it on speaker.

- What?

- So we can all listen.

- Hello?

Mr. Lawson, where are you?

Where...? Where are we?

Where are we?

- We're out getting a cake for Riley.

- Mrs. Lawson, is that you?

Yep, it is, Agent Hotchkiss.

Yes, we're out getting Riley

her favorite cake.

- Red velvet.

- Cake.

Great, well, you might wanna get back here,

because she's awake and she's talking.

What's she talking about?

She gave us a description of the perp.

Guy is 6'4", 300 pounds...

...early 40s, f***ing huge.

Probably hasn't seen his johnson

since third grade.

His name is Otis. Otis. And get this:

She remembers him. He's the pizza guy

that delivered to your house.

- What?

- That's right. That's what I said.

If we figure out

which parlor he delivered for...

...we get his address,

we have the f***er in jail by midnight.

There's 37 pizza parlors

in the greater metropolitan area.

Do you remember which one

he delivered from?

This isn't the pizza guy.

Of course it is. It has to be.

No, it's not. I've seen that guy.

He's a freaking ape. This is not him.

Six-foot-four, 300 pounds.

This guy's a f***ing munchkin.

Yeah, a really mean munchkin.

Elmo. Elmo Broth.

This isn't his address.

- We got the wrong guy.

What? Oh, God.

Oh, my f***ing God,

what have we done?

This is not the pizza guy.

Kate. Fix him.

- What?

- Help him.

- You're a nurse, for chrissakes.

- Fix him?

Oh, I know, maybe I'll just get

some super-glue.

Maybe some duct tape. Fix him?

He was just about to drink

his own toes, Will.

- Just about to drink his own toes.

- Wait, wait, wait.

- He's not. He's not, is he?

- Oh, yeah.

F***, f***, f***. What did you do?

What did we do?

Yeah, we just gotta book it,

just get out of here.

Book it?

Book it? To where? To Pelican Bay?

To Sing Sing? Look at what we've done.

We've mutilated and killed

the wrong man...

...and there is evidence

every-f***ing-where.

- All right, get a grip, Will.

- Get a grip. On what?

The turgid phallus

of my 300-pound cellmate?

Cellmate? You said we'd get solitary.

Oh, you think this is funny,

Mr. Smart-Ass, Mr. Lord-of-the-Flies.

Well, Hotchkiss is gonna

figure out this address.

F*** Hotchkiss. He can't even

find his a**hole.

- I don't give a f*** about Hotchkiss.

- Then what?

- Otis.

F***ing A.

The freakazoid's out there,

and we're standing in his garage.

And we just killed his f***ing brother.

- Mama f***ing Lion.

- What?

- Well, I didn't wanna do this, Kate.

- That is so not helpful, Will.

- I can't believe you're gonna go there.

- F***ing bloodlust.

What is wrong with you guys?

You didn't maybe think to check his wallet

before we f***ing filleted him?

Oh, this is my fault.

Now you're gonna blame me for this.

Guys.

Otis.

Get a mop.

Jesus.

Will, will you turn the goddamn lights off?

Someone's gonna see us.

Jesus. Take the key

out of the f***ing ignition.

All right.

What are you doing?

I didn't say turn the engine off.

You have to turn the engine off

to get the keys out.

Just start getting the goddamn bags

out of the back.

Will you two f***ing help me?

Pull.

Get it out, Reed. Come on.

Get it in the Dumpster.

Can't you do anything? That's not helping.

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