Seven Psychopaths Page #2

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A simple, joyous life

was not what was left to him.

This went on for 11 f***ing years,

till finally the killer went mad.

And one winter night,

while recalling a Catholic tract he'd read,

which stated that

the only people guaranteed a place in Hell

were not murderers, were not rapists,

but were those who had died

by their own hand.

The killer accepted such an idea as beautiful,

for he knew that at least in Hell

the Quaker would not be there.

So he cut his own throat open,

and the last thing that the killer ever saw

was the old man take out

a cut-throat razor of his own,

put it to his throat,

and slice.

Where were you walking him, Sharice?

The La Brea Tar Pits.

Mr. Costello, please don't hurt me.

I promise, I didn't mean to lose Bonny.

I just turned around and he was gone.

If it was a genuine error, Sharice,

if it wasn't your fault and he just run off,

why did you run off,

have us piss away 12 hours

just to find your fat ass'?

You love your dog so much, Mr. Costello,

and you're such an angry-type person,

I didn't think you'd listen to

anything I had to say about losing Bonny.

You'd just think it was my fault

and drag me back here

and tie me up and kill me.

Well, yeah, that was a pretty good...

Yeah.

Yeah.

- You should get a new one, boss.

-I know, but I like the handle, the blue.

I'm sorry about this, Sharice.

What it is, I don't oil it.

Please, Mr. Costello, I always loved Bonny

like he was my own child.

One, I do not want that image in my head.

Two, you shouldn't take advantage

just because my gun got stuck by accident.

Because that's low.

There's been a bunch of dog disappearances

down by the La Brea Tar Pits, I heard.

This Norwegian chick I was banging,

she got her dog back.

Been missing a couple of days.

Gave the guy a big reward,

then she started to think

there was something fishy about it.

She asked around.

Same thing happened

to three people down there.

And, I'm sorry, Dennis,

when were you gonna mention this?

I'd have mentioned it straight off

if I hadn't been looking for fat-ass all night.

Dennis.

Could you go make some inquiries?

Get my f***ing dog back for me.

Sure, boss.

What about fatso?

She still lost my f***ing dog, man.

Just kidding, Sharice. You can go.

You think I'm gonna see Wendy again

when I go?

We'll both see her again, baby,

but not anytime too soon.

You ever worry we was wrong all those years,

and there ain't no Heaven

and there ain't no nothing?

Of course I worry, but God loves us.

I know He does.

He's just got a funny way

of showing it sometimes.

Sometimes I think

God's gone crazy sometimes.

Stuff He does, stuff He don't do.

Well, He's had a lot to contend with

in his time, too, you know.

Bastards killed His kid, too.

Don't say "bastards," honey.

It's just a word, Myra.

It's just a word, you know.

"Bastards."

You're gonna have

a nice time tonight, Billy. Relax.

He's your best friend, ain't he?

Kaya ain't so bad.

it ain't her fault she's a f***ing b*tch.

Must be hard coming all the way here

from Australia.

Or New Zealand.

Or wherever the f*** she came from.

Hey, I'm Billy. Billy Bickle.

What's your name? I didn't catch your name.

Hey. Come again?

Dimitri, I like that. Where you from?

Hey, happy birthday.

Hey, Bonny.

We'll get you back to your daddy

in a day or two.

Don't be sad.

That's good. You're not sad.

Oh, you're happy!

Paw.

Paw.

No paw. That's okay, too.

And the last thing that the killer ever saw

was the Quaker take out a cut-throat razor,

put it to his own throat, and slice.

What's up, Bickle'? Don't you get it?

- I get it.

-You don't look like you get it.

Maybe it ain't clear enough.

Maybe I should have

had you write it with me.

Maybe you just drink too much, Marty.

What did you just say?

You're a dog kidnapper, Billy.

I'm taking advice on drinking

from a dog kidnapper.

I ain't a dog kidnapper, Marty.

Stop it, Martin.

- Don't you f***ing start.

-Yeah, don't you f***ing start.

- Don't talk to her like that!

-You started it.

Shut up!

Kaya, that Quaker story,

I told Marty that story

in a bar two months ago.

A friend of mine told that to me.

So there might be copyright issues,

at the very least.

What are youse looking at?

I'm gonna go, okay?

Thanks for... it was a nice party.

You look nice.

What you doing, honey?

Ain't you getting undressed?

If I could massacre every person in this

godforsaken country...

...that helped tear apart mine, I would.

I must focus, however, on the

gruesome task I have in hand.

What are you talking, baby? Chinese?

Vietnamese. Vietnamese.

Vietnamese. Yeah, didn't we have

like a big war with you guys one time?

Yes.

It isn't over.

What am I doing at your place, Billy?

Kaya threw you out.

What did Kaya throw me out for?

You don't remember?

For calling her a f***ing b*tch

in front of all of her friends.

I'd never do that.

At least not to her face.

Well, call her up and see.

Well, call her up and see.

Hello?

Honey, listen, I can't exactly remember

what happened last night.

Do the words,

"My girlfriend's a f***ing b*tch,"

mean anything to you?

Poodles always look like they've been crying.

Maybe they've just got dumped

by their girlfriend

because they've got a drinking problem, too.

I don't have a drinking problem.

I just like drinking.

Of course you do, Marty.

One, you're a writer.

Two, you're from Ireland.

It's part of your heritage. You're f***ed!

F*** off now, Billy!

Seriously, just f*** off now!

I'm not in the f***ing mood!

You were f***ed from birth.

Spanish have got bullfighting.

The French got cheese.

And the Irish have got alcoholism.

And what have the Americans got?

Tolerance.

Shoot, you're reading LA Weekly, are you?

Shoot, you're reading LA Weekly, are you?

No, no, no.

No, no, no.

No, no, no.

Shoot, did I leave any water

in Bonny's bowl?

I'd better go home and do that,

and while I do,

there's something I put in the LA Weekly

that you should maybe read.

'Cause it's possible in the short term

that you might be slightly mad at me.

- What are you talking about?

-Page 163.

Calling all psychopaths!

Are you mental or deranged?

Maybe you've recently been hospitalized,

but are now okay.

Or maybe the world

just doesn't understand you.

Yeah, right!

Well, I'm writing a screenplay with my friend

called the Seven Psychopaths,

and if your story is crazy or quirky enough,

we might use it for our movie.

So please call Billy Bickle at 310-555-01...

F***ing a**hole dog-f***er.

Really? That's nice.

- No, no, thank you.

-Are you sure'?

- Please, really.

-Thank you.

All right, old man, get in the car.

Get in the car. Come on.

- What?

-"What?" Get in the car, man.

Don't make me repeat myself, dog f***er.

Where do you keep the dogs?

What dogs?

- To repeat, where do you keep the dogs?

-1228 Bayside.

Who are you?

- I'm Billy's friend.

-Well, just keep out of our way, Billy's friend.

AI, check the cages.

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