The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 Page #2

Waco, Texas?

Tulsa? Nope.

-Pardon me.

-Austin?

He's Dallas' favorite caterer.

I think he's kind of cute.

The Last Round-up Rolling Grill chef,

Drayton Sawyer!

Drayton!

Drayton! Drayton! Drayton! Drayton!

Way to go, Drayton!

It's the second year in a row.

This year, Drayton,

you've got to tell the secret

of that fabulously tasty chili!

No secret. It's the meat.

Don't skimp on the meat.

I got a real good eye for prime meat.

Runs in the family.

Oops! Oops!

It's one of those hard-shell peppercorns.

I gotta say, I love this town.

This town loves prime meat!

So there's the big story.

Texas clobbers Oklahoma in chili.

This is Stretch, your fearless reporter,

live from Dallas.

Now, be sure to watch

your drinking and driving

on this wild and woolly

Texas-OU Weekend.

This is Stretch, on K-OKLA...

Cut-Rite.

No, C.L., I ain't seen Fletcher.

Well, last Friday.

Well, hell, he's on the road, then.

Well, don't believe me, then. Fine.

C.L.

No.

I'll be with you in just a minute, sir.

Now, you're getting

as mean as a sting bat, C.L...

No, hell, don't call back.

No, don't you call back.

I got a business here,

and Fletcher ain't none of my business.

Damn!

What can I do you for?

Well, don't you wanna test them?

There's gas in them.

Get them suckers a time or two.

Oh, my kid banana.

Damn, what is he doing?

Now, this is very hard to believe.

I'd like you to play that tape, missy.

Come all the way up here to Burkburnett.

No sh*t!

Yeah.

Oh, you wanna hear it now.

I wanna hear it on the radio.

On your show.

Uh-uh.

I don't think it'd be legal to do that.

FCC regulations, those things.

Well, you just figure out how to do it

and do it.

You bend the rules. I don't know.

-Why?

-Because the killers are here.

Kill sites have been clustered all over

Northeast Texas the last two years.

The laws, they shy away

from piecing it together as murder.

They call it accidents, disappearances.

You got that last slaughter on tape.

You play it on the radio.

Maybe then, the laws will stop trying

to shut me up and start helping me.

Besides, it'll give you

something real to do.

You said you were gonna do this alone.

I need your help, missy.

Well,

you can call me Stretch, Mr. Enright.

Well, now, you can call me Lefty.

It's mighty nice doing business with you.

-Thanks.

-All right.

You have a nice day, now.

You, too.

Number one again!

Drayton did it again. Number one.

Number one!

The Sawyers are number one!

Number one.

So here's a special request

we're doing this afternoon and tonight.

You steady listeners know

we're playing this every hour.

This is for Lefty.

Hog f***er! Son of a b*tch!

Last Round-up Rolling Grill.

We're still number one.

I told you, boys, and I told you.

Don't call on this phone.

Now, damn it, get off.

What? What's on the radio?

Now, don't bullshit me. I can't...

I won't... All right, what station?

This ain't no joke, boy?

Then I'm tuning it in.

Hog f***er! Son of a b*tch!

You two nap-haired idiots.

You've done it again!

You coon shits! You fudge-packers!

You'll be the death of me yet!

Missed us, a**holes.

K-OKLA.

Come on, Lefty. Where are you?

This concludes the broadcast day

for K-OKLA in Burkburnett, Texas,

Red River Rock 'n' Roll.

In New York, it's 1:00 a.m.,

still fun city.

In LA, 10:
00 at night, party time.

But deep in the heart of Texas,

it's 12:
00 midnight.

Ain't nothing going on.

It's another cussing caller.

Your little ass is gonna be

in big trouble over that tape, girl.

Nope.

Sure got a lot of complaints, darling.

L.G., it was a request, right?

It's listed in the logs as a request.

People complain

about the request every night, right?

Uh-huh.

Wanna go for coffee at Big State?

Nope.

I guess you're waiting on this guy, Lefty?

L.G.

Night, L.G.

Good night.

God damn it!

Sh*t!

K-OKLA, this is Stretch.

Hello?

Hello?

Hello?

Hello, Lefty?

L.G?

Lefty?

Lefty?

I wanna buy some radio-ad time.

Are you f***ing crazy? We are closed!

Off the air till tomorrow.

You'll have to just come back.

No, but... But, yeah, but...

Whoa...

So this is radio land, huh?

The infinite turnover?

The waves through

the ether fuzz roll on forever.

Can't close that.

Hi, I know what you're thinking.

"This is weird. Hope I can handle it."

You know,

you're my fave.

Me and Bubba, my little brother,

we listen to you every night.

Music is my life.

You know, you're my fave,

but I get too embarrassed

to phone in my request.

It's too disembodied, you know?

But

Now that we're here in flesh and blood,

I could maybe make a request,

and it'd still count, huh?

Sure.

Well, what about

Iron Butterfly?

You know, like In-A-Vida-Da-Gadda, Baby?

Oh, it's heavy! You know,

I've never been to a radio station before.

Do you think you could do me a tour, huh?

Tour?

Tour. Sure, sure.

But seriously quick,

and it ends at the exit sign.

Oh, boy! Okay, yeah, sure!

Okay, your tour. Here's your tour.

Here's your tour. Here's a lamp.

Yeah, lamp.

Here's a typewriter.

-Rubber man.

-Rubber man. I like him.

Armadillo. Here's Mr. Shark.

Oh, Mr. Shark!

-Here's some flowers.

-Flowers.

-Rolodex.

-Rolodex.

Here's a lamp.

And there's the exit sign. Tour's over.

"E-X-I-T.

"Exit."

-Good night.

-Oh! Good night!

Good night!

Good night.

Good night!

Good night.

Hey, what about my request?

You know,

that Lefty-request record

that you honked out today?

I love that!

Let's see.

What was it, anyway?

The Rambo III soundtrack?

Gonna play it again?

Sure would like it.

Hey, maybe I could get a copy,

and you could autograph it.

To a far-out fan!

-What's in here?

-Record vault.

Oh, where you keep the golden oldies?

And maybe...

Maybe the new music's in...

Not me, you dumbass!

Get the girl! Get the girl!

Ow, ow, ow!

He dented my plate! My brain is burning!

Nam flashback! Nam flashback!

Leatherface, you b*tch, I'll...

Look what you did

to my Sonny Bono wig-do.

Oh, God damn, I can't believe it!

You gonna have to buy me

a new plate cover!

You gonna have to buy me

a new plate cover, Leatherface.

He's gonna send me back

to the VA Hospital

with this dent in my plate.

Well, at least he didn't mess me up.

Dog will hunt.

Get that b*tch, Leatherface.

Get that b*tch!

Dog will hunt.

Go away!

Sh*t. Humble Pie!

Hurry up, Leatherface. Hurry up.

Get that b*tch!

Go away!

Music is my life!

They live on fear. They live on fear.

They live on fear.

They live on fear. They live on fear.

They live on fear.

Stretch, darling,

you know the door's unlocked?

Hey!

What the sh*t?

Hey! Lick my plate, you dog dick!

What the f*** you think

you're doing in here,

you crazy-looking little son of a b*tch?

Get out of here!

Time for incoming mail!

Ho Chi Minh!

A-one and a-two and a-three!

Go, you little b*tch!

Go away! Leave me alone!

No, no, no, no! God, no, please don't!

Incoming mail!

No, no, no!

No, no, no, please, God, no!

No, no, no, please, God! Please, God, no!

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