Plump Fiction Page #2

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Yeah, and kill an entire family.

Huh'?

You can't leave a f***in' poisonous

doughnut laying on the counter.

Somebody's gonna eat it.

Not if you tell them it's poisonous.

WOMAN:
I said, would you shut...

Give me that f***in' doughnut.

...that goddamn dog up?!

We spray once.

Oh, man.

And that's it.

But then they gonna come right back.

Uh-huh, then we'll come back.

That's how we make a living.

No, that's how Monticello makes

a f***in' living.

I don't get paid enough

for this bullshit.

Say, you know what they call

an eclair in New Zealand'?

So, what's her name again?

Mimi.

They say she's plump.

Yeah.

Used to be an exotic dancer.

Monticello likes his women party-size.

Oh, yeah? Not me.

I don't like fat chicks.

Yeah, right.

I don't.

Yeah, OK.

Serious, man.

Yeah, whatever.

Fat, me, no can do.

Uh-huh. Yeah, right.

I'm tellin' you.

Let me tell you something -

200 years ago,

you would've been singing

a different tune, my friend.

Is that so'?

Yes.

A man's prowess was measured

by the size of his wife.

The bigger, the better, OK'?

Fat women were revered.

200 years ago, that little mermaid

at Euro Disney

would've looked more like

Free Willy.

(LIFT DOOR PINGS)

I hear this Mimi is a real handful.

Remember that kung-fu dude

with the black belt and the nunchaks,

Tony Krakatoa?

Used to call him

Polly Want a Cracker?

Little guy,

always smelled like cheese?

Mm-hm. Nacho.

Right.

Mm-hm.

Well, word around the X-ray room

is that those same nunchaks he had,

he's wearing on the inside.

Sets off every metal detector

there is on the LAX

just by driving by the place.

All on account of

a certain plump ex-stripper.

She used to strip?

Mm-hm.

Well, uh... what did he do?

Make fun of her?

Helped her wax her moustache.

She has a moustache?

Not anymore.

Supposedly, the b*tch wanted to

get rid of some unsightly facial hair,

convinced Tony Krakatoa

to help her out.

Now he's wearing two wooden sticks

inside his monkey motherfucking ass.

Shittin' sawdust.

What's her name again?

Mimi. Why are you so worried

about the b*tch's name?

Monticello asked me to show her

a good time while he's down in Tijuana.

Show her a good time"?

No, not like that.

Oh.

Show her a good time.

(BLOWS WHISTLE)

Not like that either.

Just take her out for some coffee,

keep her from getting bored.

MAN:
Whoo-hoo!

Three's my lucky number, baby.

WOMAN:
Nicky.

(NICKY GRUNTS)

(BED SPRINGS CREAK)

(NICKY LAUGHS)

(SQUELCH)

Sounds like we caught somebody

with their pants down.

WOMAN:
Who is it'?

Exterminator.

Did you call the...

Come on, you two honeymooners.

Open up. You're standing in the path

of the workin' man.

(OMINOUS CHORD)

Holy sh*t.

JULIUS:
Stay cool, Jimmy.

We could hear you. You don't need

to be braying like a mule.

You just caught me and Nicky here

in the middle of some

real important business.

Ain't that right, baby?

That's right, baby.

Real important business.

So I guess you'll just have to

come back some other time.

Alrighty. Let's go.

Wait a second, Kato.

So you are... you're asking us

to reschedule?

She ain't askin' you nothin',

spray boy.

I'm telling you.

Now pick up your f***ing bug cans

and get out!

(GUNFIRE)

(SCREAMS)

Mommy!

(SCREAMS)

Holy sh*t!

Holy sh*t, no!

Holy sh*t is when

some pissed-off waitress

spills coffee on your lap because

you're acting like a sonofabitch, OK'?

Watchin' two inbred, gun-toting psychos

try to fill you with lead

because you're trying to rectify

an ant problem?!

That's not holy sh*t, my friend.

That's not even holy f***in' sh*t.

You know what that is?

That is a miracle.

A miracle?

That's right, I said a miracle.

We could've been killed up there,

motherf***er.

But you know what, Jimmy'?

I've had it.

That's right, I've had it.

No more bug-hunting door-to-door

candygram bullshit for me.

And you can tell Monticello

that sh*t too.

From now on, he can exterminate

his own f***ing roaches.

Come on, Julius.

Exterminating's all you know.

What are you gonna do, walk the earth'?

Hey, man, I said, F*** that sh*t."

I'm going to find my own way.

Maybe I'll start my own

exterminating business or something.

(MEN WHOOP)

And I'll exterminate anybody

who get in my f***ing way.

Ooh!

Man!

Get your dim-witted ass

out of the goddamn way.

(CROWD CHEERS)

(BELL CLANGS)

(GAS PS)

I had that nightmare again, Vallory.

Me too, Nicky.

The one where Bonnie Franklin

had her own TV show again.

Oh! No, the other one.

Where we're forced to watch

that unwatchable movie

about our truly fantastic lives.

'Natural Blonde Killers'?

Damn that Gulliver Stone

for making that convoluted film.

Do I look like a blonde to you, baby?

No, you don't, sweetness.

You're just a guy in a bad bald cap

and my hair's a black and stringy

white-trash mix.

We were well on our way to becoming

the most infamous homicidical maniacs

this country's ever seen.

And now look at us,

wallowing in obscurity

as a couple of ridiculous

tag team wrestlers.

Well, we're gonna change

all that tonight, sweetness.

The Nicky and Vallory of old

are about to weave

their most intoxicating spell

over all of America.

Once we doublecross Monticello

and, um... win this match,

we'll have enough money to stage the

most violent and memorable comeback

in serial-killing history.

And then we...

BOTH:
Get Gulliver Stone!

Oh, no, you don't.

None of that 'took too much acid',

'who shot JFK',

'let's do mushrooms

with Jim Morrison' sh*t with us!

Not this time! God!

You wanna make a film about us'?

Then you gotta do like we do.

Just point...

...and shoot.

You got that'?

Well, alright.

Oh... l love you, Nicky.

I love you, Vallory.

(SQUELCHY KISSING)

Hey, yo! Break it up. Break it up.

Well, well, well.

Tweedledum and Tweedledumber.

You two finished

slobbering all over each other?

Now, listen up. It's showtime.

No more funny stuff.

You go down inside of 1O minutes

or I'll have the two of you

roasted over an open fire

like two f***ing chestnuts

faster than you can say Nat King Cole.

Capisce?

You get it?

Then say it.

Huh? Huh?

Repeat what I just said.

BOTH:
Oh.

You stay on Nat King Cole's nuts...

You two f***ing chestnuts...

...until we're in the third round.

..are gonna f***in' be roasting.

Alright, alright! Forget it.

Just go down

in the first 1O minutes.

That was quite a charm

on Montello's bracelet.

Are you thinkin'

what I'm thinkin', sweetness?

About Pamela Anderson

on that surfboard nude?

No, Nicky!

I'm thinking that we snatch

that briefcase on our way out of here

and then we could add

a little insult to, um...

...injury.

I love the way you think, baby.

Let's do it.

Now do you think I'm sexy, huh?

SONG:
Woman,

take me in your arms...

You had ants, Kandy.

You had fleas in every f***ing room

in your house.

Remember, you called me up, crying,

saying, Montello, please!

Please take the vermin away."

And my boys came and you couldn't pay

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