The Do-Over Page #4

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I don't know what the big secret was.

It's just us.

What do you think?

You want a Corona?

I'd tell you to pull up a lounge chair,

but we don't got no more.

Maybe Dr. Ron'll

make you a little room.

Ooh. Oh, I would love to.

But actually, I'm running late

for my mani-pedi.

I gotta get all pretty for tonight.

Oh, you two should come with.

It's Rum Runner night at Club Oro.

- Lookin' sharp, by the way, big boy.

- Really?

You don't think this is too Magnum?

You could never go too Magnum.

Maybe lose the hat, though.

Ooh, hola, neighbors.

- Butch, Ronald, this is my co-pilot, Joan.

- Ah.

Dawn dragged me along to make sure she

doesn't do anything to embarrass herself.

Who's watching you, then?

- Oh, you're funny.

- Mmm-hmm.

Buenas noches. Welcome to

Rum Runner night here at Club Oro.

I'm Jorge, I'm gonna be your

shooter boy for the evening.

Jorge, nice to meet you.

Who's this crazy f*** over here?

Oh, he's, uh, shooter boy-in-training.

He's just watching, observing,

no need to worry.

How can I help you?

How about four Panty Droppers?

Oh, yeah!

Naughty, naughty, naughty!

- Whoo!

- Hey!

Jorge, I don't think it worked.

Maybe they're not wearing panties.

Guilty!

Wow!

- You boys can still bust a move, huh?

- Oh, yeah!

Not bad for a couple of old farts.

Please, I got you both beat.

How old are you?

I'll put it to you this way,

we're over the speed limit.

- No way! Y'all aren't 55.

- Mmm-mmm.

You're right, Joan.

This guy just had his 57th birthday.

Well, I've never been

afraid of doing over 55.

Easy, Dawn. You're gonna overheat.

We need to make a pit stop

in the little girls' room.

Don't flood your engines

in there, huh?

We got a long ride ahead of us.

Hey, wait, why are you telling 'em

that we're in our mid-'50s?

Whenever a chick asks me my age,

I always add ten years.

Why do you do that?

You tell them your real age,

they just shrug. No big deal.

Now, you're the fountain of f***ing youth.

No wonder that chick stalks you.

Where did you learn to talk like this?

You ever been in a threesome?

I'm not guaranteeing anything, but,

uh, let's try to get that done for you.

Are you shitting me?

You gotta stop staring at me.

Oh, sorry.

You're still staring at me, man.

That's poor three-way etiquette.

All right, Jorge.

Come on, rookie mistake.

Why don't you let the doctor

get a turn in the cockpit, huh?

Rotate for a minute.

Okay, I'm cool.

I'm gonna go take a dookie.

I'll be back in two. Got it?

I'll just... I'm gonna...

I'm gonna chill here.

Taking notes?

Good man.

Hey, Dr. Ron, you know what?

Let me hop in the saddle.

My f***in' arthritis

in my knees is killin' me.

- Oh, okay. That's fine.

- Yeah, okay.

This is not what

I had in mind when you said threesome!

It's not my fault Joan passed out.

But why shooter boy?

I don't know, you're the one

who loves staring at him.

Hey, Dawn.

- Can I ask you a question?

- Sure.

The, uh, mover guys...

did they happen to give you

any information about us?

No.

But I play tennis

with your real estate lady

and she told me something.

But she said not to repeat it to anyone.

Oh, well, we're all getting close

here tonight, come on.

Well, she said that the buyers, you guys,

seemed to be in an awful hurry.

Like, maybe you were

on the run or somethin'.

"On the run"?

You bad boys.

- Oh! Oh, that's wonderful.

- Uh-huh.

- Oh, thank you.

- Ah...

You're welcome.

Snake delivery!

This the right address?

Oh, sh*t.

Who ordered that?

All right, Charlie.

Enjoy the view.

Yo, what's up with the AC?

I'm f***in' sweating my balls off in here.

I'm sorry.

Oh! There's the sex machine.

Morning.

You must be hungry.

One or two sausages?

- One.

- Just the one. Okay.

Would it be better if there were two...

sweaty eggs underneath it?

Come on.

I gotta say, bud. You like it.

Right here, I'll just...

Can I get some food?

Last one...

Gotta be happy, though.

The tongue ring, Dawn dug it.

So did Jorge.

Can we not talk about last night again?

Ever?

All right.

Everything was in balance, though, man.

Dawn says that her husband

cheats on her all the time.

- Wait, she's married?

- Yeah, she's married.

Who do you think we're playing

golf with on Sunday?

Are you f***ing with me?

No, we're playing golf with the guy.

I just...

That face you just made

reminded me of last night with the dick,

when it came out, you were like...

By the way,

I think that snake was a cobra,

because it had a hood and a flat head.

It was so gross.

You let that happen.

I gotta sit down.

I'm dizzy.

You don't feel good.

What do you got, a hangover?

Yes, the king is f***ing hungover.

Wow.

Look at this.

You see that?

Butch has a picture with Dr. Fishman.

They knew each other.

Yeah, they got brought in together,

I assumed they were friends.

Well, who's the girl?

Is that Dakota?

No, Dakota's my dead guy's chick.

That's yours, buddy.

Your girlfriend or, uh...

look at the ring.

Your wife.

I'm married!

She's a babe.

Yeah, look at you

fallin' in love all over again.

Forgot about Jorge, did you?

Whoo!

F***.

Hey!

We got an underwater doorbell!

Butch Ryder knew how to live!

F*** yeah, man.

All right, you swim.

It's probably Dawn, ready for round two.

Is that what the bell means, round two?

What the f*** is this?

Cheese...

lettuce...

Ah... No! Mustard.

Not too much.

Ooh!

Hey! I'm gonna f***in' kill you, Fishman!

What? Well, who are you?

You know who the f*** I am!

And you know what you did!

No, I don't.

You tag-teamed my wife!

Yeah, she told me all about your...

your little snake delivery!

My snake delivery?

That wasn't me!

That was Jorge, the shooter boy!

- Get the f*** out of the pool. Get out!

- No, I can't.

- Get out of the f***ing pool!

- It's not a good idea.

You're not gonna come out?

I'll come in there and break

your f***ing skull.

No! No, listen.

Let's talk about this.

Let's have a beer together.

What the...

What the...

Ow!

And that's where the sh*t

really hit the fan.

I was about to die for real

and I was not ready for that.

Luckily, my friend Max was keeping

another secret from me...

Daddy's got you.

He was Action f***ing Jackson.

Aren't you a little f***ing tall

for gymnastics?

- Oh!

- Let's go. Run, Ron! Ron, run!

- Come on. Go. You're Ron.

- Yeah.

Yeah, our friend at the bank was correct.

Ryder and Fishman have

returned from the dead.

These two gentlemen have

taken over their identities.

Out of all the dead bodies in the world...

you pick the most wanted man in America?

Stop swiping!

How could you not have

researched these guys?

I researched them.

Dr. Ron's a very successful doctor

with an impeccable record,

who, unfortunately,

got two bullets to the head.

You said he died of natural causes!

You naturally die

if you get two bullets to the head!

Maybe I'm not good with words.

Who the hell are you, man?

And don't lie to me again!

Okay, stop freaking out.

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