Retroactive Page #4

try and act|like a normal human being.

Well, goddamn.

What the hell is happening?|Goddamn it, Rayanne!

I don't know who|your lady friend here is...

My lady?

but I know what you're doing,|and there is no way...

that I'm gonna let you or anybody else|take away what's rightfully mine!

What the hell you talking about?

Listen to me.|He's gonna kill you.

- Goddamn right!|- I will kill you.

You won't kill me.

- Shut up!|- Shut up!

Go ahead and shoot me, you stupid b*tch!|If you're gonna shoot, shoot!

I'm truly amazed.

Well, I'll be damned.

That's the first time you ever listened|to me. Look what you did to my vehicle!

What the hell...

Gimme that!

Help!

Help me!

Oh, sh*t!

She's got a gun!|She's gonna kill me!

- She's a crazy psycho b*tch!|- What's going on?

She's got a gun!|She killed my wife!

I'll take care of you later,|taco head.

Lady, I didn't do nothing!|I swear, lady! Please!

Wait!

- We've gotta get that piece of sh*t.|- Get in!

We're not gonna catch him.|He's too far ahead of us.

Not for long. Your pickup's gonna be|giving him a little trouble.

- No way. I just had it serviced.|- Check the tires lately?

- Sh*t. How did you know?|- Woman's intuition.

See if you can find|some more ammo for this thing.

Sh*t.

Where the hell are the police?|Brian, you bastard.

- Who's Brian?|- Never mind.

Frank's in that building somewhere,|and he's got the gun from your truck.

- You can count on it.|- How did you know I had a gun?

This is Texas, isn't it?

Yeah.

Be careful.

- Don't you move!|- Hey, lady. Whatever you want, take it.

You got that right.|I'm looking for your buddy, Frank.

- Who?|- Frank! I got something for him.

I'm right here, sweetheart.

- Come and get me.|- Come on out, Frank.

It's over!

It's not over till that big,|ugly fat woman sings that little song.

Sam, I think I found|your missing daughter here.

Sh*t.

Suppose these are real...

I can explain.

- Sh*t.|- I got it covered, Officer!

All right. Everybody, drop your guns.

Both of you! Put the guns down now.

I can't do that, Officer.|That man is trying to kill me.

This is his accomplice.

- Sam?|- I don't know what she's talking about.

He's gonna kill you.|Don't trust him.

This is bullshit, Officer.|I picked up this woman hitchhiking.

She killed my wife Rayanne.|She's gonna kill Sam and me. Arrest her.

He's a thief and a killer!

He's carrying contraband.|Make him open his shirt.

- Check him.|- Okay.

First, just everybody put your guns|down. We can work this out.

Come on, now.

We can work this out, but I am not|putting this down before you disarm him.

You hear, sir? She'll lower her weapon|if you'll lower yours.

Who the hell are you?

Okay, that's fair enough.

Hell, you're a professional|law enforcement officer.

If I can't trust you,|I can't trust nobody, can I?

It's a shame, Officer.

Real sad to see a woman|just snap like that.

Especially such a pretty one, huh?

Sir, I've got her covered.

Now if you'd just lower your gun|and open up your shirt.

What?

You heard me. Put the gun down|and open up your shirt.

Keep an eye on him, Officer.

All right.

Okay, easy, easy. All right.|There ain't nothing here.

Hell, all I got down here|is a big old beer belly...

and a couple of bullets for you!

She was right,|and you were wrong!

You bastard.|You killed her.

Yeah, well, Rayanne always did|like it south of the border.

Sh*t.

Go ahead.

I said go ahead.|Get it.

Oh, God.

Found a peanut

Found a peanut just now

- What do we do now?|- Hell, you take her on foot.

- I'll mow her down with that.|- Sounds reasonable.

But what do we do|with all those bodies?

Hell. We'll say a prayer, take their|watches and wallets, and burn them!

That's gonna stink.

Just now I cracked

- Stop!|- This doesn't look good.

- Stop!|- Don't stop.

I don't want to hit her.

Let me in, please.

- Drive.|- Where to?

Just go. Go away from here.|Come on.

Sh*t!

- Turn it around!|- That's a police car.

You don't understand.|The officer's been shot.

This guy is trying to kill me.

There's not time to turn around.

You are breaking the law!|You are on the wrong side of the road!

Bumper car!

Sh*t. Goddamn.

Yeah, whoo!

Go!

I'm going as fast as I can.

Get your heads down!

I love a good Chevrolet!

Damn!

He's on this side.

Look out!

Hang on!

Oh, God!

- Mom, Dad!|- No!

Stay in here, kiddo.|I'll be right back.

Gotcha, baby!

Where do you think|you're running off to, girl?

I thought I'd get myself a beer|right about now, Frank. Want one?

Well, baby...

where's that kid?

What kid?

Goddamn it!

Don't be difficult|at this particular junction, honey.

He's hiding, sweetheart.

Wouldn't you be if there was|a damn maniac on the loose?

Hold it.

Brian, don't you think|you're a little late?

- You know him?|- Frank.

Well, it's an itsy-bitsy world|after all.

The two of you|in on this together?

I've never seen her before|in my life.

All right, then.|We're going to Juarez...

in that mother right there,|and you get moving.

- I'm going to Mexico.|- Wait.

Listen. If you did all this,|you'll never make it to the border.

- They'll send you right back.|- Why?

They're tight with us now.|The Mexicans.

- Why?|- Well...

- Free trade.|- Free trade, my ass!

- Just have to kill you both right now.|- Wait. Hold on.

There's another way.

Is that right?

- Yes.|- Yeah?

Tell me.

Remember that little experiment|that I was working on?

What, that sci-fi bullshit?

I got it to work.

Yeah? Well, is it gonna get me|to Mexico any quicker?

No. But you can go back|and change all this.

You can get away clean.

Is that right? Bullshit!

I did it once already,|with her.

You bastard.

Is that right?

Yes, it's true, Frank.|That's how I know all about you.

You know all about me, do you?

- Yeah.|- Well, what's my favorite color, then?

What's my middle name?

What did I have for breakfast|this morning? Huh?

What universities did I attend?|This is a bunch of bullshit.

You don't know anything about me.|Just get in the goddamn car now.

You always stop here, Frank...

meet with Sam, get a package of money|and some sort of beer.

It's always some foreign beer,|because it reminds you of your dad...

who took off to Australia|when you were ten.

And I can't imagine|that you got past fourth grade.

Not even Rayanne|knew about the money.

Hell.

That's how come you knew|the end of my joke.

Damn.

Hell, Brian.

Beam me on up.

Let's check this little experiment|of yours out.

But first...

Get up! Come on.

This is quite a little family|we got here.

Four little peas in a pod|in the tunnel of love.

- So why didn't you call the cops, huh?|- I did call them.

They thought I was crazy.|They kept laughing at me and hanging up.

All right, Mr. and Mrs. Conversational.|Knock it off.

Try anything funny, I'll blow|the little bastard's brains out.

Now!

Run!

- Come on!|- Get off him!

Come here, you little brat!

Get your mitts off!

Damn!

Come on.

Oh, God.

Open sesame!

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