Premium Rush Page #5

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Look at you.

You have got to be kidding me!

Come here! Come here!

Hey, what happened to you here?

You use that goddamn brake again?

Yeah, I took that sh*t off.

Thank you, Jesus.

Hey!

Them! Them!

This way, this way.

Sh*t!

What are you doing?

Looking for the thing.

Here it is.

Roll this up. Really tight, really tight.

Okay. Sh*t.

I mean, holy sh*t, right?

I know.

Is it good?

Yeah.

Come on, guys.

Come on!

Hey!

No, you don't.

Sh*t.

Wilee!

Sh*t.

Wilee? Aren't you afraid

you're gonna get killed?

You believe in luck.

When your number's up, your number's up.

Aren't you afraid you're gonna get killed?

I mean, the way you ride.

Wile e! VVi/ee!

Aren't you afraid you're gonna get killed?

Yeah, but if it comes,

that's just gonna come outta nowhere.

Am I afraid? Sure, but that's part of it,

you know? There's no feeling like that.

When your number's up, your number's up.

- You could say that.

- So you're a Buddhist, then.

Yo, give it up for Sleigh Bells!

That's what's up, that's what's up!

Sleigh Bells, yo!

You believe in luck.

You know it's the Taoists

that believed in luck.

The Buddha rejected all that.

He insisted on cause and effect.

What kind of bike messenger are you?

The kind with a Masters

in Bullshit and Obfuscation.

You still haven't answered

my original question.

Aren't you afraid of dying?

I mean, the way you ride.

You wanna know what scares me

is what happened to my friends

who just got out of law school.

That is collective insanity.

Compared to that, going down Broadway

at 50 with no brakes is fine.

Sounds good.

It also sounds like bullshit.

The bike wants to go fast.

It's steadier that way.

I've never been hurt going all-out.

It's just the hesitation that'll kill you.

So you're one of those guys. No brakes.

No, I hate brakes.

Brakes are death.

Now it's time to announce the winner

of the Fifth Annual New York

Bike Messenger Association Alleycat Race.

Grand prize is $100 and Felipe's bike.

You like that?

To the winner for the third consecutive year,

the original bumper surfer,

the Coyote Man, Wilee!

Wilee! That's my boy, right there!

All right, baby!

Well, come on. Come and get it.

Get up here.

Give it up, give it up!

Yeah!

You back?

Where's my bike?

Yeah, you're back.

- Where's my bike, seriously?

- Relax. Relax.

I can't leave without the bike.

- I'm going with him.

- No.

- What the hell are you doing?

- You stay here.

Hey, I need some help over here.

This woman is unruly.

- What?

- Calm down.

- I didn't even do anything.

- You got to relax.

Fine. Okay.

Is this my bag? Thank you, I appreciate that.

Hopefully there's nothing missing.

This crazy man...

I don't care what happened!

Because you tackled me!

- I didn't mean to tackle you.

- Just FYI, there's a lawsuit happening.

I'm not saying I'm gonna do it or whatnot,

but there is one coming. Thank you.

All right, come on. Get your stuff.

Hey, chief, I need to talk to you.

- Hey, what's up?

- I need to talk to you.

- Did he come to?

- Yeah. He's awake. A little messed up.

He's got a couple of bruised ribs,

but he'll be all right.

- Listen, I gotta ask you a favour.

- Yeah, shoot.

I have got to talk to this guy right away.

V?

The bike.

His partner got away.

I gotta find him before he gets too far.

Is there any way I could ride

and ask him a couple of questions?

- What, right now?

- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

If I could just sit with him

on the way to the hospital?

- That's very unusual.

- Yeah?

- Yeah.

- Well, NYPD needs a favour. Okay?

Okay, chum?

- All right, come and ride with us.

- All right. Thanks.

Drive.

Hey, buddy? Hey, buddy? Hey...

They're not your buddies.

You're one of these bike a**holes.

You know how much time they waste

scraping you shitheads off the street?

This whole city hates you.

Hey, man. You headed to the impound?

Yeah. Why?

Good. Take this thing. I'll meet you there.

When this a**hole comes for his bike,

he's mine.

Time to quit clicking around, son.

You got involved

with some people with real problems.

Real deadlines. Life and death sh*t.

What is this to you?

What, the slope that gave you the ticket,

she gave you some sad story?

Eighteen cousins in Fujian

that wanna come to Chinatown,

dish out Mongolian beef with snow peas?

Well, life's hard. Turns out they can't come.

It's for her kid, man.

Do I bother her with my problems?

Where's the ticket?

Yeah, I hear you got some cracked ribs,

that's gotta sting.

We better be careful.

Don't want you bouncing around

too much in here. Might poke a lung.

I'm sorry. Is that uncomfortable?

Douche bag.

I don't really care much

for that term "douche bag."

People throw it around like crazy these days,

like it's suddenly okay.

You know what else people say now?

"Suck it."

I was watching TV the other night, 8:30,

middle of prime time.

Kids could be watching. Guy says, "Suck it."

Everybody's laughing.

How is that appropriate?

I'm gonna ask you some questions.

And you're gonna give me

one-word answers,

yes or no.

Even a bagboy should be able to handle that.

First question.

Do you know where the ticket is?

Hello!

You better give me an answer

or I'm gonna snap your ribs like toothpicks.

Do you know where the ticket is?

Will you give it to me?

Good boy.

Just get me my bike.

Are you negotiating?

Yeah. Yeah, and you're outta time.

You might have these a**holes in the bag,

but you can't lean on me like this

when we get to the hospital.

That's my offer! Get me my bike!

I'll get you the ticket.

How do we make that happen?

Manny. Bring me Manny.

How ya doing, George?

Charlie, pull up to the side!

Put it back there?

Yeah, I'm pushing it through.

Sh*t.

Get out. Come on.

Here they come.

I'm gonna kick your ass

till Thursday if he doesn't have it.

It's in his bag.

Why do you think I was chasing him?

Can I get my bike now, please?

Hey. Hey, fellas.

What's up?

- Take this kid inside to get his bike.

- All right.

- But bring him back.

- Will do.

Hello, sir! Rough day, huh?

Yeah. Yeah.

Have to ask your permission

to search your bag.

You're not in any trouble at all.

I have reason to believe somebody

may have put something in there

without your knowledge.

Okay...

- Hey, did you just bring a bike in?

- End of the row.

Okay...

Hey, you see somebody

hanging on the back of my truck?

No, I just got here. Like who?

Like some batshit crazy messenger chick.

I think she was holding on the whole time

I was on the West Side Highway.

Damn.

Something I've been looking for

all damn day.

- I've had a bit of a rough day myself.

- What are you doing?

Got it.

Nice!

Are there any more compartments?

For what?

Over here.

I love you for more than one reason.

God damn it!

Have a nice day.

Yeah, just leave it right there!

I'll take care of it, not a problem!

Sh*t.

I'm gonna shred the living sh*t

outta that thing.

Wait.

I'll see you outside.

Hey! Where is the little sh*t?

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