Parlor Page #3

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Come on.

- Straight ahead, right?

- Yeah, right up here on the corner.

Jesse, you going the right way?

Right up here. Right around the corner.

We should really go back

to the hotel room.

I think we'll find them. We'll find them.

You have to trust me.

Hey, guys. Uh, don't pay

attention to these f***ers.

Just walk. Don't even look at them.

- Jesse, what the f*** are you doing?

- Jesse, what the f***?

Jesse!

You f***ed with the wrong crew,

motherf***er!

- You f***ed with the wrong crew! F***er!

- Jesse!

What the f***? Chill out!

- What the f*** was that?

- Dude, calm down. Chill!

- Relax. It's cool.

- It's cool?

"You f***ed with the wrong crew"?

Who are you?

Are you kidding me?

Those kids were planning something!

- How the f*** do you know?

- Stop!

They could have pulled a gun

and killed us!

You just risked our lives! You're no hero!

Whatever, I'm protecting us,

and I'm the f***ing villain?

- Unbelievable.

- Jesse!

- Un-f***ing-believable.

- Jesse!

What the...

I can't believe what just happened.

I wish Amy would have called you

and told you where she was going.

Jesse, are you sure this is the place?

Yeah. It says "parlor."

Hello? Anyone here?

- How can I help you?

- Uh, hi. We're looking for our friends.

Um, they came here last night

with a goth girl.

She was covered in tattoos and had heels.

Yes. You mean my apprentice, Uta.

- So you've seen them?

- Yes, I saw both of them. I, um...

I tattooed your friend...

- Amy?

- Yeah, Amy. That's her. Yeah.

Yeah, I finished her tattoo about 4:00 am,

and her and the guy left.

Did maybe your apprentice girl,

Uta, go with them somewhere?

She lives here, so I don't see how that's

possible, and we closed after they left.

Guys, can we leave this

shithole? They're not here.

Jesse, chill out.

Sorry, sir, he can be a bit of a hothead.

Hm. I'm sorry I can't be more help.

If you guys ever want a great tattoo,

you're welcome back

to this shithole any time.

I hope you find them.

Thanks. We appreciate it.

Let's go.

Oh. I just met your friends.

They really do seem concerned about you.

What did you do?

Don't hurt them. Please, don't hurt them.

I'll do anything, anything you want.

Oh, I know you will.

Don't worry.

They have no interest in me.

I sent them on their way.

Amy...

This tattoo will forever bond you to me.

Every time you look in the mirror,

you will see me.

You will see us.

I will be with you wherever you go.

You're crazy if you think

I'll be bonded to you forever.

You wanted a tattoo

that would make you

remember your trip, right?

I think you'll find this appropriate.

Oh, my God!

Ok, guys, I really think

we should call the police.

I agree. I don't trust that guy.

He looked criminal.

- Why, because he had tattoos?

- No, that's not the point.

Oh, come on, guys.

You think we should report them missing?

Yeah, you ladies are

blowing this out of proportion.

You know, I think that Brock just

hooked up with your "angelic" friend, Amy,

and they're just sleeping

off their hangovers somewhere.

You're so stupid, Jesse.

Amy wouldn't do that.

Whatever. How could they be missing?

It hasn't even been a day yet.

Seriously, stop it. What is your problem?

You're being a total dick.

That's my problem.

Guys, we're on vacation, ok?

There's no way I'm ruining it

looking for that a**hole.

What the f***, Jesse?

Come on, bro. You're out of line.

- You too, huh?

- Guys, guys, stop. He remembered Amy's name.

Ok, and why is that important?

- Did he remember Brock's?

- Ok, Sherlock.

- What are you getting at?

- Seriously, please. F*** off.

Kev, let me see Brock's profile again.

- What's wrong?

- I knew I'd seen that design before.

- What the f*** is wrong with you?

- Guys, look!

- Look!

- What? Where?

It was hanging in that

creepy tattoo parlor.

Oh, my God! That f***er's got

Brock's tattoo in his parlor.

Wait, wait, wait. Stop.

Wait, now.

What are you guys talking about?

You're f***ing nuts.

How can there be Brock's tattoo?

I'm sure that really generic

douchebag design is in front

of every f***ing tattoo shop ever.

I know that freak and his b*tch

have got something to do with this.

- We've got to go back and check it out.

- No f***ing way.

We're not going back there.

Let's just call the police.

Are you guys f***ing kidding me?

You're all nuts.

We're on vacation in Europe.

And it's beautiful out. And you

wanna go on a wild goose chase,

and back at that parlor with that

f***ing psycho-killer-looking dude.

Seriously? It hasn't

even been 24 hours yet.

The cops will laugh at us.

Back home, it's at least, 48 hours before

you can file a missing person's report?

Exactly, in the f***ing United States.

This is Lithuania.

Yeah, out here it's

probably two f***ing weeks.

- Oh, my God. I... Oh!

- Kev, look at me.

Amy'd do the same. You know it.

Ok. We'll go check it out.

You know what? F*** this.

You guys are nuts. I'm not going.

- Fine, stay here.

- Wow.

- F*** you, Jesse.

- You turned out to be a total f***ing idiot.

And you're just mediocre in bed.

I've had better.

- Ok! Come on, guys!

- Thank you...

Enough! Jesse,

we'll call you if we find them.

- You do likewise, all right?

- Just please f*** off.

- Yeah, right...

- All right! Come on.

Dick.

I'm sorry. Don't worry,

we'll find Amy and Brock.

Vodka, rocks, now.

- How's your day going?

- Good. And you?

- Yep. Now.

- Enjoy.

Yeah.

Can I take you to a table? Yeah?

See? I told you!

That... that tattoo

does look like his design.

- What the f***?

- You're here to see your friends?

- What did you say?

- Your boss said they left late last night.

Our friends are here!

Where are they and where's Amy?

We're having a party for them.

Would you like to join us?

No, we would not like to join you!

Where's Amy?

I don't know,

but maybe they are downstairs.

- What?

- Come on down.

- Seriously?

- All right, let's just go, come on!

Where the f*** are they?

How do you say it? Relax!

I'll get your friends.

We need to find Amy and Brock

and get the f*** out of here.

I don't know,

I think we should just call Jesse.

- F***! No service.

- Sh*t!

Come on, come on!

Got it!

Come on, Jesse. Come on,

pick up your f***ing phone.

F***!

Voicemail.

Hey, Jesse, where are you?

We're at that f***ing parlor.

Please call me back.

- He's not picking up.

- Well, call 911 or something!

- Kevin!

- What...

Steph, run!

What the f***?

Amy! Amy!

Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

- Run!

- No!

Kelly!

- Sh*t.

- Hey, it's Jesse, where are you?

We're at that f***ing parlor.

Please call me back.

F*** it.

- Would you like a dance?

- Yeah. F*** it, why not?

Kelly! Kelly, wake up! Wake up!

Kelly, please wake up!

Kelly, Kelly, you have

to try and get down.

These people are f***ing crazy.

Kevin! Oh, my God!

I don't know what the f***'s going on!

Why... why is Stephanie on that table?

Steph!

Steph! What are they gonna do to her?

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