Plump Fiction Page #6

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That's it. You're cool.

You're gonna be just fine.

Stupid cow

just shot me in the stomach.

I am not cool.

I'm gonna f***ing die.

You're not gonna die.

Holy sh*t! Just slipped

on my own intestine.

You gotta get me to a hospital!

I'm taking you

to the rendezvous point.

No!

Yes!

That's the plan.

I'm losing life. I'm gonna die.

I'm gonna f***ing die!

Arggh!

And now I just lost a lens. Great.

As if bleeding to death wasn't enough,

now I lose a f***ing contact lens!

I'm not gonna see the light -

the tunnel, the light.

I'm gonna go right past the light

and go straight to hell!

Enough! You're not gonna die, OK'?

You're bleeding now,

but everything is gonna be fine.

Now, come on.

Ow.

Great. You just broke a nail.

God!

SONG:
Here we come

Walking down the street

We get the funniest looks from

Everyone we meet

Hey, hey, we're the Monkees

And people say we monkey around

But we're too busy singing

to put anybody down...

Who's the best nun?

You're the toughest, yeah?

I'm the toughest.

You're the toughest.

Ah!

Watch where you're f***ing going,

you stupid prick.

Sorry, sisters.

I'm tired. I believe

I will stop running.

Everything3 gonna be... fine.

Great! Now the f***ing cops

are after us.

What do you mean? What happened?

What happened?

That fat chick with the... with

the Magnum and the Cleopatra hairdo

started taking pot shots at us!

What?

Blew that f***in' penguin right out of my

hands. I think she got a piece of my ear.

What happened to the car?

F*** the car!

What about these outfits, huh?

I got powder burns on my wimple

and you've both got blood all over yours.

Relax.

I swiped these f***ing habits from

the dressing-room at my kid's school.

They're doing a f***ing benefit

tonight at 8:
00.

And you can't do a production

of 'The Sound of Music'

without f***in' habits.

Where's Frankie's car?

F*** Frankie!

F*** this whole f***in' stupid plan.

Sh*t! F***! Somebody ratted us out.

Did you see who that was?

That fat chick with the gun.

Yeah.

Yeah, that was Montello's wife.

Montello's f***in' gun-totin'

nun-shootin' wife.

You said you had this covered.

How'd she find out about this, huh?

I don't know. I don't know!

One of us is not a stripper.

One of us is a lyin' b*tch

who was f***in' Monticello,

and now she's f***in' all of us.

Who are you calling a b*tch,

you f***in' whore'?!

You couldn't table-dance

your way out of a paper bag!

Little f***ing MOTH E R FUCKE R!

Hey, Sister Batril, relax.

She said I...

I know what she said.

And I said relax.

Put the gun away.

I said put the gun away!

I could win a f***in' Nobel prize

for table dancing.

Everybody's gotta keep their head.

Now, what happened to Sister Sister

and Sister Sledge?

I don't know!

I didn't stick around to find out.

F***ing bullshit!

We didn't even get

the f***ing money.

We'll get the f***ing money!

Kandy?

I feel dizzy.

You told her your name?

I can't believe you told her

your f***in' name.

She's bleeding to death.

What the f*** was I supposed to do?

What happened to the plan, huh?

No names, no worries!

I had to improvise, OK'?

Yeah, well, your plan sucks.

This whole nun thing was f***ed

to begin with.

I don't wanna be Sister Batril.

I'll be Batril.

Great.

No! There's no switching names.

You're Sister Batril

or you're out of here!

Hey, Liz Taylor!

You mind?

This is a private meeting.

Oh, sorry, sisters.

F***in' penguins.

Maybe she knew all along!

Well, somebody had to tip her off.

I think it was Sister Sledge.

(SIRENS WAIL)

Speak of the devil.

Who called the cops?

We don't know.

We think somebody's

trying to f*** us up.

Yeah? Well, they're

doing a good job!

Arggh!

Sorry.

I think I smell a rat.

Sure you don't mean a bat,

Sister Bat-ril?

Why don't you close those

scrawny little legs, give us all a break?

You're the one that tipped off

Monticello, you f***in' b*tch.

I got a tip for you,

you scrawny piece of trash.

You best back off Iced Mocha

'fore she tears you a whole new hole

to shake at your customers.

Oh, yeah?!

(BOTH SCREAM AND YELL)

And you can say your name,

you a**hole! You f***ed up!

I've had enough!

Sister Sledge is cool.

I picked her myself.

She hates Monticello

more than any of us.

How do we know

it's not you, Batril?

You're the one who's running around

pointing all the fingers.

What the f*** you talkin' about?

(SCOFFS) I supplied

the f***ing costumes!

Oh, yeah?

Well, I've never seen you strip.

I ain't even seen her pastie.

Yeah, and them

mosquito bites of yours

certainly ain't the tits

of an exotic dancer.

Show us your tits!

Yeah, b*tch!

Yeah!

Where'd you get this one,

Sister Mary?

I didn't. She came to me.

Don't you f***in' f*** with me!

It's been you who's been

f***ing with us all this time.

Drop the gun, Bah.

Make her drop it first!

Sledge, this ain't the way.

Back off, Kandy. Don't pull

that mother superior crap with me.

Put it down, Sledge!

It's Batril! I know it is.

You stay the f*** out of this,

Sister Ruth.

Go ahead, you bloody b*tch,

let me finish ya!

(ALL YELL AND ARGUE)

(GUNSHOTS)

(ALL SCREAM)

Would you shut up?

We're trying to shoot

a f***in' movie in here!

If the f***ing script

would ever get here!

MAN:
Do you want that cappuccino?

Enough with the f***in' cappuccino!

(BELL RINGS)

ANNOUNCER:
And in the world

of Federation Tag Team Wrestling,

a fatal upset last night

as Nicky and Vallory Cox

defeated and inadvertently killed the

famed tag team wrestling champions

the brothers McMullen.

The pair escaped

and are currently being sought

to answer to three separate charges

of criminal manslaughter.

In other news...

Whoo-hoo!

Three's my lucky number, baby.

Old Monticello

never knew what hit him.

Oh. Oh, that's it, baby.

(POP SONG PLAYS)

Oh, yeah.

Bring that booty over here, baby.

Ow!

Ooh, watch your nipples.

Don't f***ing help me or nothing.

So, what are you saying?

A man can't pull melted wax off a b*tch's

face without it meaning something?

What I'm saying is Mimi's moustache

is between Mimi and Monticello.

Mm-hm -

now, let's just suppose

you and this Mimi go out

to a fancy restaurant.

The b*tch orders eggs Florentine.

Got it.

She gets a piece of spinach

caught on her upper lip.

You mean to tell me

you wouldn't help her?

Spinach and pubic hair

ain't the same thing.

Man, what you talking,

pubic hair, man?

This ain't no f***ing pubic hair,

motherf***er.

Pulling a piece of wax

off a person's face ain't sh*t.

I used to shave my mother's back

before they sent her off to the asylum.

Really? Hey, you ever shave

a guy's back?

Does prison count?

Outside of prison.

F*** you.

Huh, have you?

F*** you!

Our star is on the rise, Nicky.

We are surrounded by angels

that are converging

on this moment in, um, time

to help us realise our destiny.

You're just poetry in motion, baby.

I think that I shall never see

a poem as lovely as...

...Nicky.

(GIGGLES)

Um, baby, er...

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