Striptease Page #7

-Doesn't look good.

Can't get a break.

Shad's a loser.

Shad's a loser.

All right, Miss Angela.

Six!

She always gets six.

Down, Bowser. Be patient.

Don't tease me!

I'm not teasing.

You just sit back. . .

. . .relax, have yourself

another drink.

Because tonight is the night.

It sure is.

Who are you?

I want my daughter.

What? Chico!

How'd you get onboard?

My little 'un. I want her.

Your "little 'un,"

whoever she is, is not here.

Chico!

What's this?

Damn!

Look. . . .

Well, there's a sight

to raise the dead.

Who's that old freak?

Hold on a second.

I know who that is.

Is that the--?

Is that that guy

from Price ls Right ?

Oh, damn!

You got my daughter. . .

. . .and now you try

and kill me with a ax!

I don't have your daughter!

You're confused.

And it's "an" axe.

I'm stoned. . .

. . .but I ain't confused.

You stole my little 'un!

Before we make love,

I wish to shave you.

I don't need a shave.

Evening, partygoers.

Where's Erin?

I don't hear you.

Bullshit.

Tiffany!

Is Mommy okay?

She's fine, honey.

We're gonna pick her up now.

We'll play card games,

have some fun!

She won't like this.

She told me--

I don't care what she told you!

How could you let her go alone?

-I thought you were in jail.

-I made my bail.

-This son of a b*tch your--?

-Hang on.

Here's your nickel.

Nice dance.

Would you please

just get out of here?

Are you that guy

from Price ls Right ?

I'm Congressman David Dilbeck.

Congressman?

-Yeah.

-No sh*t?

Well, I steal wheelchairs. . .

. . .so we got a lot in common.

I'm getting tired. I think

I just killed a lying weasel.

You did what?

Beat him with this here club.

Well then, get out!

And leave us alone!

I'm about to mount this here beauty.

Maybe not.

You're talking about my wife.

It's time for us

to take a little drive.

Malcolm.

Malcolm!

-Move it, move it!

-Yes, ma'am. Yes, ma'am.

-Get on--

-Keep quiet!

-Pick a good one. Take it!

-Hurry it up!

Sh*t, look at this.

Help me, you a**holes.

Help!

Stop! Stop!

I voted against gun control.

Weapons could end up in the wrong hands.

Will you please shut up?

What?

-It doesn't start.

-Come on, man.

We are in trouble.

Oh, no!

That fracture looks bad.

We ought to drop him off

at the doctor.

-We're not dropping anybody anywhere.

-My sister Rita done up my arm.

Oh, really?

I'm a great believer in family.

Do you have a pen and paper?

It didn't feel the way I thought,

killing a man.

-Killing a man?

-It felt terrible.

-I want you to write something.

-What?

I want you to give me

custody of Angela.

No way.

You're going to jail

for what you did. . .

. . .and I will not have that child

placed in a foster home.

So please. A simple note.

"l, Darrell Grant. . . "

I love that little 'un.

I know you do.

" . . .give full custody. . . "

-You do?

-Yes, I do.

Let's do this for her.

Let's not put her at risk anymore.

" . . .to my wife, Erin Grant. "

Okay.

Good boy.

You know, you write quite poorly.

Are you a high-school graduate?

Sh*t!

Everybody just stay put, all right?

This girl is nuts.

My prostate doctor said. . .

. . .that I have to urinate

whenever possible.

Then go relieve yourself over there.

Pierre, just stay with him.

Now wake up.

Come on. Here.

You gotta sign this.

Sign your name,

that's all you gotta do. . .

. . .before you get arrested.

Now come on.

Sign your name.

There you go.

"Darrell Grant. "

Good boy. Good.

That's right.

I'm back!

No more teasing.

Oh, finally!

What?

Finally you take me like a man.

Like a congressman.

I knew you cared for me.

Malcolm didn't know

what he was talking about.

-Now take me.

-Here?

I've got a special spot

picked out for us.

Get that music box for me,

will you, honey?

-Sorry, boss. It all happened--

-Shut up, you nitwit!

Don't explain. We got a goddamn

stripper about to bring us all down.

How do I look?

Not bad.

-What happened to him?

-I hit him with a rock.

Who's the man?

You're the man.

You are the man and oh, so strong.

-Well, here we are.

-Here?

You ever make it

on a pile of sugar before?

No, but I'm willing to try.

Well, you're in for a treat.

You're in for a treat too, darlin' .

Now you just let me

put some music on. . .

. . .while you take off

those pretty little pants.

You'd better put on

some blast goggles.

Because you're in

for an overwhelming sight.

Sh*t! Radio for help!

What do I tell them?

Congressman Dilbeck abducted a woman.

They'll shut off their radios

and go help him.

So we're it.

A cop and a bouncer.

Plus two strippers and a kid.

We're in great shape.

And two.

How come here?

How come not that yacht?

I'm kind of private.

I don't like people watching.

Me neither.

I don't like anything kinky.

I know you don't.

You're a real man.

I knew it when poor Jerry

was killed and Shad's lawyer.

I said, "Davey's the real thing.

An M-A-N man. "

A man blackmails you. . .

. . .you got to deal with it!

You got to be hard and firm.

And you can dance!

-Marry me.

-What?

Marry me. Just say it.

-You are married.

-I know.

But I'd leave my wife in a heartbeat.

She wouldn't care.

She doesn't like me anyhow.

Well, this is very sudden,

and I have a lot to think about.

-I'll make you proud of me.

-I know you would.

It's like when Jerry said,

"l'm gonna shake down Dilbeck. "

And I said, "Are you crazy?

Blackmail a real man like that?"

I said to Malcolm,

"Just do what you have to do. . .

. . .to Jerry, that fat lawyer.

Just do it! "

-Just do it.

-Just do it! And he did.

-Didn't he?

-He sure did.

You idiot!

-Sh*t.

-Hi, Malcolm! How you doing?

I'd like to introduce you

to my fiance.

This is Miss Erin Grant.

Sorry, Davey.

You both gotta go.

Willie's orders.

You are sick.

Murder-suicide, Miss Grant.

Suicide?

Hell of a story, isn't it?

A congressman and a stripper.

Excuse me.

What did you call me?

A stripper.

Dancer, a**hole.

George Bush!

That's not George Bush.

That doesn't look anything

like George Bush.

Drop them.

You got till three.

One.

What are you, nuts?

Yeah, psycho.

Delusions of invincibility combined

with a strong homicidal urge.

I have a kick-your-ass fetish.

Two.

Boss?

Three!

Goddamn it!

Good evening, everyone.

Postman, postman

Do your duty

Send this letter

To an American beauty

You're now under arrest.

For a variety of charges.

I need some coffee.

Why don't we start with homicide?

You're not arresting anyone.

Black.

No sugar.

I said, no sugar.

You know you have

a serious dandruff problem.

Ladies!

Mama! Mama!

Baby!

-You okay, Mama?

-I'm fine, baby.

See how you could get tendinitis?

Come on, guys.

Congressman, you called

a news conference?

Holy sh*t!

Thank you.

There comes a time in

every public figure's career. . .

. . .when he has to think

about his future.

You are making

a tragic mistake here.

jerry, that fat lawyer.

just do it! And he did.

You idiot!

Do you have any idea

how nuts this was?

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