The Hangover Part III Page #2

- I'm trying!

Oh, sh*t!

What the hell are you?

What is happening?

- Stu!

- We are in an elevator!

What the f*** is going on?

Please, this is huge mistake!

- You got the wrong guys!

- No, I got the right f***ing guys

Get him up. Pick him up,

put him over here.

Hey, you're black Doug!

It's Black Doug!

Shut the f*** up with that!

Shut the f*** up!

Oh my, God! It is!

Alan, tell me right now, why is

Black Doug kidnapping us?

I said don't call me that

sh*t no more!

- It ain't Alan's fault.

- Thank you, Black Doug.

- Ooh, Mother f***...! I will...F***er!

- Doug!

- Okay, Okay.

- Just Doug, okay?

- Why are you doing this?

- Because...

I told him to.

I'm Marshall.

And whether you know it or not,

we all have something in common,

and it all started four years ago,

when this moron...

...sold the wrong drugs to

this dumb f***.

You have no idea the chain of events

that were set in motion that night.

In the parking lot of a

f***ing liquor store.

- What up, n*gger?

- Excuse me?

Chill out, I'm not a cop.

Just in town for the night.

Me and my boys looking

to get our freak on.

You sold Alan roofies.

Oh, sh*t. I must have

mixed up the bags.

My fault, Alan. Damn! Marshall gonna

be pissed off with me on that one.

Damn! Marshall gonna be pissed

off with me on that one.

MarshallYou're

Marshall?

You brought us out here

because of that?

You're not here

because of that.

You're here because some China

man I never heard of

strolls into my town and takes one

of my guys off the street!

- Mr. Chow?

- Yes.

Yes! Yes, Mr. Leslie-f***ing-Chow.

You introduced a virus

into my life.

Oh God, what did he do?

He f***ed me in the ass.

Oh, he does that from

time to time.

Not literally.

Jesus!

A few weeks after your bullshit.

I get word this sheik is coming

in from Abu Dhabi.

He was looking to make some

less than legal investments.

He brought his two wives and 42

million dollars in gold bars.

- It was a lay up.

- Get down! Get down!

We took it all.

Two vans, each with 21 million in

gold.

My guys split up.

One of them made it back.

One of them didn't.

Is there a problem, officer?

Not anymore, motherf***er.

Leslie Chow stole 21 million dollars

from me. On a Tuesday.

Oh, God.

I looked everywhere for him.

But he's gone, no one

can find him.

Until the little cockroach got

him self pinched in Bangkok.

So I pay him a visit.

I offer him a truce.

I won't touch a hair on his head,

I just want him to tell

me where my gold is.

He refuses to talk.

Not only he does refuse

to talk to me,

he has no communication with

anyone form the outside.

except you.

Hey, it's unfair!

Alan, you been talking to Chow?

They've been writing letters!

Hey, those are private!

"Dear Leslie, OMG,

the McRib is back!"

"Why was it ever gone?"

Exactly!

"Dear Alan, I threw urine on

prison guard today."

"Blamed it on cell mate.

Wish you were here."

Yeah, I wish I could

have seen that.

Letter after letter of

total nonsense,

except for one common thread.

You guys!

The Wolfpack.

Jesus Christ, Alan!

Five weeks ago, Chow escaped from

maximum security detention.

Oh, f***.

He stored aboard a shipping freighter

bound for the West Coast.

- Where is he?

- I don't know.

Alan, if you know where he is,

you tell this man right now.

Phil, I...I don't know. I swear,

I haven't talked to him in months.

We Gotta do it the hard way.

- What the f***!

- Hey, HeyDon't!

- Let's go!

- No! What the f***?!

Woh! Woh! Woh!

What are you doing?

Doug is my insurance,

he stays with me.

You don't give me Chow,

I blow his brains out.

You go the the cops,

I blow his brains out.

But that's insane! We don't even know

where the f*** he is!

No one does.

But I figured the Wolfpack has the

best chance of finding him.

You have three days!

Get to work.

Can't you take Stu instead?

F*** you, Alan!

Sh*t.

Sh*t!

- Alan?

- Yeah, Phil.

I need you to roll over here

and chew off these hand ties.

Okay.

- Getting a little too much steam.

- Get off me.

Alright. Let me just

shimmy down.

- Would you just...?

- Hold still! Hold still!

Help! Help!

Holy sh*t.

What are we gonna do, Stu?

We're gonna go

to the police.

Oh, no, we're f***ing not.

Did you hear that guy?

He will kill Doug,

period.

Chow is a cancer, he has been a cancer

since the first day we met him.

So we're gonna hand him over to this guy

Marshall and then it's done.

- Hey, Phil!

- Alan, not now!

But I need you, Stu.

I can't do this alone.

Do what aloneWe have no

idea where he even is!

- Phil?

- What, Alan?

Well, I was just gonna

say, I got this strange

email the other day, I wasn't

sure what it meant.

But now I think it might

be from Chow.

"Fatty, it feels good to be out.

I'm close by. Tell no one,

I'll be in touch.

Chow."

This says Chow. How did you not

know this was from Chow?

At the time, I thought it was

Chow like 'goodbye'.

You know Like "Ciao, Arrivederci,

Sbarro, Papa Johns."

I'm writing him back.

Woh. Wait, wait.

Just hold on!

I'm gonna tell him that you're happy he's

out and that you'd love to see him.

Ooh, I would love to see him.

- Do you even know what's going on?

- Yes, I do.

Phil's doing all the

work, I'm his assistant and...

...you're standing there

looking like an idiot.

I'm gonna arrange a meeting.

We're gonna take him out.

"Take him out?" Who says that?

How do we take someone out?

We use drugs. Prescription drugs.

You know the kind a

dentist has access to.

Good luck finding a dentist who will

write fake prescriptions.

Oh, I know one. His name

is Stuart Price.

Now, let's go find a

f***ing pharmacy.

Wooh, you just got

schooled, son.

- Are you coming or not?

- I don't like this plan.

Okay, then. Ciao!

I got a pretty dumb sense

of humor, bro.

Everything okay?

Well, it's just a strange request.

This drug, in this amount,

and a pack of syringes,

it's just a little weird.

Yeah. It's just...it's kind of

an emergency, so...

See, that right there, and you're acting

all figgity, plus you look like sh*t.

In our buisness, these are

all red flags.

I need to call a priscriping doctor

and make sure everything's okay.

Aha. Well, you're in luck because

I actually am a priscriping doctor.

Oh, boy. Another red flag

It says here you're a dentist.

Yeah, Doctor of Dental Science.

This is f***ed up.

Hey, Dad?

I think we got a live one.

- How did we do?

- We did good.

I got Demerol, a pack of syringes and

almost lost my dental license.

- What about the Chow, anything?

- Nothing.

Oh, look at this. He emailed me

like twenty minutes ago.

Alan, we've been sit...

Give me the phone, please.

What does it say?

Oh, wow. He wants to meet

Alan tonight at eight.

Just come alone.

Come alone where?

- A bus stop. In Tijuana.

- Tijuana is the bomb!

- Oh, f***!

- No, that's perfect.

It's like a three hours

drive form here.

Yeah, Stu. Try reading a map.

Yeah, Alan. Try reading,

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