Retroactive Page #2

Can't say I didn't try.

Don't want you yapping|behind my back now.

Damn, it's good|to be in America!

Wake up, Sam.|The man is here.

- How'd it go?|- Goddamn went great.

He's always gotta come here|and get his beer.

You like that Australian beer?|He's always gotta get that.

Says it reminds him of his dad.

He took off for Australia|and left him when he was ten.

You know you don't|have to stay with him.

Sometimes I just wanna take a knife|and cut out his heart.

Honey, you don't wanna|do something like that.

I'm gonna give you the number|of a woman's shelter.

Call 'em any time.|They can help.

Yep.

Look what I got here.|This is the mother lode.

- What the hell...|- I don't know what these do...

but they sure pay for them.

I can't program my VCR.

You may wanna use|that phone over there.

Here.

Take care of yourself.

Don't you worry about me.|I'll be fine.

- There you go.|- Gimme that!

That's more cash|than I've ever seen.

Thanks for the ride.

Freeze!

Do either of you know where we could|find a place to camp around here?

- I'm sorry. I'm not from around here.|- Down the road about ten miles.

Ten miles? Great.|Thanks a lot.

I'm going to Mexico|with my Rayanne.

I hope it works out.|You watch the water down there.

I know that water's|supposed to be rough.

- Hey, Frank.|- Give you the shits, they say.

Frank, come here. Remember that guy|I told ya about?

He gave me these.

Bullshit.

It's bullshit, Sam.

- You show these to anybody else?|- No, Frank. That's your girl.

Bullshit!|You show these to somebody else?

- No, I didn't!|- That's bullshit!

Think I must've|dropped my wallet.

- F*** you.|- You show anyone else those pictures?

Goddamn it!

Don't worry about it, a**hole!

What the hell...

What are you doing?

Rayanne, pour me a beer|would you?

Would you stop, please?|I was getting out there.

There's a tow truck back there.|Maybe you didn't realize...

Will somebody please tell me|why is it...

that women can change their minds|whenever the mood strikes them?

We all have moments|where we rethink choices.

- It's natural.|- Natural.

Natural pain in the ass.

You want a beer?

- You sure you don't want a beer?|- Yes.

- You do want a beer.|- No.

That's what I mean!

Yes, no, yes, no, yes, no.

Do you or do you not|want a goddamned beer?

No, I don't want|one of your goddamned beers!

Why don't you shut the hell up|and leave me alone?

Drink it.

I'll leave you alone.

Where are we going?

You see, Karen, my wife Rayanne here,|she seems to think...

that I'm one of those bad to the bone,|unrepentant a**holes.

I think she brings it out in me.|What do you think?

It seems to me that you two|can work it out.

Is that what you think?|I think it's a little too late for that.

It's way too late.

I know now that|it'll never work out.

'Cause, you see...

I've had a sudden,|unforeseen realization...

that has left me saddened...

and terribly hurt.

What are you talking about?

It occurred to me back there that|I had seen that pickup truck before.

Maybe, Rayanne...

you might have|an understanding going on.

Come on!

This is Frank.

You can tell me the truth.

Tell me.

Lie! You're always|lying to me!

Sam...

was thoughtful enough to show me|some photographs of you.

I was shocked. I've never|seen you like that before.

I don't know what you mean.

Talking about the f***ing beaner|you've been f***ing!

That's what I'm talking about!

- He's gonna kill me!|- Look at me.

She's right.

I am gonna kill her.|Sh*t's what it is.

Talk to me.

Turn around|and talk about this.

We can work this out.|Come on.

You're a big guy.|You don't need a gun.

Put the gun down.

Open the door! Sh*t.

Here we go.

Sh*t!

Oh, my God!|Thank God!

- The door. Is it locked?|- It locks automatically.

You sure?|Is it bulletproof?

- I suppose so.|- We have to call the police.

This man, he just|shot his wife.

Relax. Nobody can|get through that door.

You don't understand.|The man is a killer and he's after me.

Relax. You're hurt. Let me|get something to clean that cut.

No, listen to me.|What is your name?

Brian.

Okay, Brian,|do you understand me?

You have to call the police now,|you got me?

I have a woman here|who's apparently been injured.

Hold on. Sh*t!

Undo.

Damn!

Oh, my God.

And there was this woman.

She's some kind of secretary|or something.

She sees my belt buckle,|and she says...

She goes like this.|She says, "Frank...

That's a good-looking belt buckle."

And I don't know.|This just popped into my head.

Don't ask me how.|I just said to her.

Guess what I say.

Somebody guess|what I said to her.

I don't know.|What'd you say?

I said, "lt'd look even better with|your forehead pressed against it."

That just popped into my head!

What's wrong? You don't wanna experience|my razor-sharp wit back there?

I'll just listen to some music.

- You like...|- I hate country music.

How can you hate country music?

I just do.

What's the name of that book?

- Psychotherapy.|- Is that right?

It provides a framework to work out|what you might do...

if you could go back|and change your life.

- Well...|- I know it sounds like bullshit to you.

You took the words|right out of my mouth.

It's not.|It's therapeutic role-playing.

You like that role-playing thing,|do ya?

Just like Tarzan and Jane.|Right, Frank?

You and I are connected.|You are reading my mind.

If you don't mind me saying, you're|driving too fast for your own good.

I bet it feels like 55.

Feels like it.

But it won't seem like it|to that cop back there.

What cop?

Sh*t! Why didn't you tell me?|Goddamn son of a b*tch!

I already got three goddamn tickets.|My insurance is gonna go sky-high.

Whoa! Stay right there, mister.

I did not ask you|to exit your vehicle.

Officer,|just stretching my legs.

I wanna see your license|and registration.

Yes, sir, but you gotta tell me|one thing first.

What in the hell|did I do wrong?

Doing 78 miles an hour|in a 55-mile zone...

- What are you doing?|- The gun. Where is it?

- What are you talking about?|- Frank's gun. Where is it?

He never goes anywhere|without that gun.

Sh*t.

Them two's my women.

Bigamy is against the law.

Officer, could you tell me|where the nearest gas station is?

Ma'am, would you please|return to your vehicle?

Get in the car.

- Ma'am.|- Listen to that officer...

and go back into that car.

You see, I had a problem|with my car...

He's got a gun, Officer!

Freeze!

Officer, I'm with the Chicago Police|Department. This is a wanted man.

That's bullshit!|I got a license to carry that gun.

Freeze!

Get off me, b*tch!|Rayanne, stop!

My baby!

God!

Sh*t! You b*tch!

What the hell you doing here?

Who the hell are you?|Look what you did to my wife!

Sh*t!

What the hell you want?

Don't move!

Bastard!

- What the hell...|- Drive on. Get the police.

Don't! She's a psycho killer!|She'll kill us all!

- Bullshit!|- She's crazy!

She just killed my wife.|She killed the trooper.

- Wife?|- He killed her.

She killed my wife! She kicked me!|She's trying to kill me!

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