Postal Page #6

Oh.

I thought we had a flat,

but we just ran over some girl.

Whew! Thank god.

Got a body on maple.

WOMAN:
Tag 22,

please repeat your location.

Maple, like the syrup.

Oh, this is

f***ing fantastic.

Oh, my God,

these kids are heavy!

Okay.

All right.

Gary -- wait.

Just wait.

Wait.

Oh, yeah.

Okay.

Roll it, Gary.

Make me a star.

MAN:

[ crying ] Oh, my god.

This is Gayle Ravenson

reporting live

from Little Germany theme park,

on what will forevermore

be known as the place

where the laughter died.

Celebrity icon Verne Troyer

is currently missing

or presumed dead.

The coward responsible

for this massacre

has been described as

a rodent-like man with red hair

and wearing

a "peace" T-shirt.

Back to you, Bob.

Oh, that's right.

You're dead.

These kids

are starting to smell.

I can't believe

I took this f***ing job.

F***ing bullshit.

God damn it.

This helps.

Definitely helps.

We need to get him

inside immediately,

along with the merchandise!

- Yes.

Jesus titty-f***,

they're already here.

WOMAN:

Now what do we do?

That was the safest place

in all of Paradise.

You guys don't have

like a bomb shelter

or a basement or something,

you know,

that the Taliban couldn't

have found themselves, right?

No, we don't.

We do.

- What?

We do.

There's

a massive underground shelter

beneath the main compound.

It's perfect.

TROYER:
You know

what would be perfect?

My foot up your ass.

Who the f***

are you people?

What the f***

did you bring him for?

You'll see, Uncle Dave.

Do you think we can sneak him

past the Taliban

without them finding out?

And where the f*** are

you gonna hide my Krotchy dolls?

In plain sight.

Somebody grab

the little guy.

Come on, little guy.

What the f***'s going on?

WOMAN:
Come on.

WOMAN #2:
Okay.

Shut up.

WOMAN #3:
Come on.

Citizens of this great nation --

town...

be on the lookout for this

psychopathic, deranged killer,

also known as...

Postal Dude.

...Postal Dude.

That's the best

we could come up -- Postal Dude.

He's wanted in conjunction

with the kidnapping,

the shooting

at the welfare office...

the assassination

of candidate Wells...

and killing a Chinese woman.

He killed

a poor, innocent Chinese lady.

So, if you see him...

You ever just have

one of those days?

Mm, no.

Hey! Hey!

The Postal Dude!

MAN:
Get him!

Hey, come on!

[ indistinct shouting ]

Uh, I don't think that's him.

See how his hair flows,

though?

This guy

looks more like Jesus.

[ whistling ]

[ gasps ]

Sh*t. Sh*t.

Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t.

Let's go!

Thank you!

Get him!

Come on!

Hey, which way did he go?

This way!

[ indistinct shouting ]

Why did you help him?

Want to clean

the windows again?

Yeah, f***.

[ gun c*cks ]

[ bell dings ]

Hold it!

[ gasps ]

Up against the wall now!

Ow!

Huh?

Look like I bagged me

the Postal Dude.

Ugh!

[ groans ]

God damn!

You son of a b*tch!

I think

you busted my nose!

Ohh, f***!

You f***ing a**hole!

I'm gonna f*** you up!

Ugh!

Sorry.

I think he went

that way!

[ breathing heavily ]

No wonder cops are crabby.

This weighs a f***ing ton.

Handcuffs -- those are cool.

What is that?

Is that like a flashlight?

[ chuckles ]

Pepper spray.

Pepper spray is neat.

PAUL:
Officer!

Paul Lipscombe, neighborhood

watchdog group, Chapter 232.

Good job, citizen.

Did you see the Postal Dude?

Yes, uh, yes.

He went down

thataway.

Right.

Citizens united,

let's get this f***er!

Get him!

Hey, hey.

Nice outfit.

Like you couldn't be

more of an ass already.

You look like a penguin.

So, I dropped the junk off.

Yeah.

Now, where is

that underground shelter place?

Shh.

Go through the bedroom.

Yeah, the -- okay.

Zzzhhh!

All right, all right,

I'm going in.

All right.

All right, I'm going in.

Stay.

Have you heard

from Osama?

MAN:
No.

Heard from the truck?

No.

Have you seen the dog?

- No!

Do you know anything?

- I don't know.

You are stupid!

Mohammed, I'm sorry.

Stupid...

[ speaks indistinctly ]

WOMAN:
...Why the World Trade

Center victims deserved to die,

after the break.

Discouraged

by the inability to stem the...

[ meows ]

...prevents the continent

from having any further contact

with the rest of the planet.

According to leading experts,

video games are the number-one

cause of violence --

POSTAL DUDE:
Psst!

Puss, puss, puss.

Here, you stupid cat.

[ cat meows ]

[ purring ]

[ cat meows ]

Meow!

Hmm?

[ meows ]

Aah!

[ cat yowls ]

Good kitty.

Psst, psst.

Come on. Come on.

Gah.

Stay low.

I already am.

Go.

Go, go, go.

Let's go. Come on.

Up, up, up, up, up, up.

Get him.

Get him. Get him.

Shh, shh, shh,

shh, shh, shh, shh, shh.

Line up, my sexies.

That includes you, too,

Mr. Troyer.

Jenny, would you mind

opening it?

My pleasure.

Jenny, you, too, huh?

Am I the only f***ing person

who didn't know there was a bomb

shelter underneath my bedroom?

It's not a bomb shelter,

Uncle Dave.

[ door creaking ]

TROYER:
I can't believe

this f***ing sh*t.

It's a god shelter.

Richie,

what the f*** is this?

This is amazing.

This is a shithole.

What is

all this for?

Dave's bible,

Chapter 11, Psalm 23 --

"and in the end,

the fire and the plagues

"will come

at the behest of the Lord,

"and the sores and the boils,

"and the intestinal ulcers

and testicular tumors

shall befall

all of humanity"...

except for those who hide

like rabbits below the ground.

Hey, this is pretty sweet.

You ever, uh, fire --

Don't touch anything!

Aah!

We will need every bullet

for the end of all things.

[ sighs ]

That's great, Richie.

But right now we've got

a problem, all right?

My house is full of a bunch

of f***ing religious fanatics

who think they're gonna be the

chosen people at the end of the world.

As opposed to --

shut the f*** up.

Why don't you

shut the f*** up?

You don't think I'll come over there?

I'll come over there.

I'll stick this finger

up your ass.

Yeah, you

and what f***ing ladder?

I'll get you.

- I'll f***ing --

Take this.

God damn.

Richie, the point is...

We don't need to be worried

about the end right now, okay?

We just need

to take those guns,

go upstairs,

kill some motherfuckers,

get my merchandise back,

sell it so we can pay off

the IRS, all right?

Not gonna sell the merchandise,

Uncle Dave.

What?!

I am sorry to inform you,

but that was never part

of the plan.

[ chuckles ]

So, what is the plan?

To end the world,

of course.

You guys have issues, man.

Did you know about this?

No, I didn't f***ing know about this.

- But he works for you.

Apparently not.

Dah!

I can hear you.

[ sighs ]

Richie...

Richie...

[ cries ]

Now it is time

for the rest of you

to know the full extent

of our plan.

This is why we need

the Krotchy dolls.

KROTCHY:
What happens up my ass

stays up my ass.

The Avian Bird Flu --

the plague for which

the western devil has no cure.

If these dolls

are to be distributed

throughout the United States,

there will be

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