VANish Page #2

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They want five million dollars.

Now, you see I couldn't

tell them that there's not

a snowball's chance in hell

that you would pay that much

for a daughter

that you disowned,

but I think they're too stupid to

comprehend that metaphor.

Call them when you see

this video on this number.

There's three of them, Dad,

and they're f***ing amateurs.

Go ahead, Shane.

OK, she just said that she

hadn't talked to her father

in four years.

I mean, what makes you

think he's going to pay?

He's too high profile a man to

face an embarrassment like this.

He'll pay.

How do you know

so much about me?

My name, my address, my dad.

We're friends on Facebook.

Are you f***ing kidding me?

Not at all.

Let me just go ahead

and pull us up real quick.

Status update.

"I'm bored as hell."

"I'm going to be trapped

in my house all day long

"studying for my

psychology final.

"Come through the

backdoor, Bobby,

LOL."

LOL?

Yeah, laugh out loud, you know,

staring at what a

piece of sh*t you are.

Oh, well, that's very well easy

for a rich b*tch like you

to criticize, isn't it now?

Oh, give me a break.

That was my mom's house.

I f***ing live in a dorm

and I work at Applebee's.

I like Applebee's.

Hey, man, can you take

a right, right here?

OK.

So, I may have

added you as a friend,

but that doesn't

explain the address.

There's GPS data embedded

in any photo you take

from your cell phone.

I extracted that data from

the pictures you uploaded.

Sh*t.

Kind of makes you think twice

about bragging about

girls' night out, huh?

Uh...

Go ahead. Pull in that

driveway right there.

Are you f***ing oblivious?

Jasmine?

What the...

What are you doing?

Stop.

Come on.

You don't have to do this.

I called you three

f***ing hours ago

to come get your sh*t.

Don't... well...

You know what?

- I had something important to do...

- Where have you been?

Do you not think that that

I have something to do

- with my f***ing day, huh? Huh?

- Oh, come on, Jasmine.

- Oh, Shane is here? Hi, Shane, how are you?

- Please, Shane, don't

- How lovely of you to join us.

- bother her.

Is that loser Max in there, too?

You couldn't even

f***ing text me

to f***ing let me know

what you were doing...

What?

- I have an idea...

- Come on.

Why don't you and your dumbass

friends move in together

so you can play circle jerk

while you play

Call of Duty all f***ing day.

Don't mind her.

She doesn't mean it.

She's just out of

her mind right now.

Let go of my f***ing hand, Jack.

What are you doing?

I'm just... Oh, just...

I'm trying to watch that

crazy b*tch out there,

that's... that's it, OK?

- Uh-huh, is that what you're doing?

- That's it.

I know what you're

trying to do, all right?

Do not f*** with me.

Hey, hey, what are

you doing to her?

I'm telling Jack.

You mind your f***ing business.

And you, who was

that guy back there

at that f***ing house, huh?

The guy that swung

for the fences?

Is that your boyfriend?

Is that your f*** buddy?

I mean, he really looked

all heroic over there, you know?

And I was thinking

I'm willing to bet

that your naked body

was the last thing

that went through his mind.

I mean, well,

other than that baseball bat.

You're going to pay.

No, I'm going to collect.

You are going to pay.

Uppity b*tches like you

who look down on me

my whole f***ing life.

You're the one

that's going to pay.

Oh.

What happened?

Your crazy friend

was talking sh*t.

He was scaring the poor girl.

Your job is to watch her,

not to harass her,

not to talk to her,

not to touch her.

Understood?

Yeah, yeah, I got that, OK?

But I'm sitting here

and you're doing this

Days of Our Lives scene

out in the f***ing neighborhood.

She tried to move to the door.

Take the tape off her wrist.

What?

Dude, why?

She's going to try some sh*t.

She won't.

Ow.

All yours.

All right, I got supplies.

Max, want a beer?

Oh, nice.

Road pops.

I would have asked

for 10 million.

What?

The ransom.

I mean, you didn't

have to kidnap me.

You could have just asked.

You and me could

have split it 50/50.

Without all this

unnecessary bullshit.

Yeah, right.

Give me that f***ing beer.

Here you go, man.

You look so familiar to me.

Max played a car mechanic

in one of the Smile car

insurance commercials?

Oh, sh*t.

Wait, I think I saw that.

What, you were... you were the

guy who was singing that jingle,

right?

How did that

work out for you, pal?

Not like I'd hoped.

- Jesus!

- You jerk!

I almost hit

a kid in a stroller.

You had unprotected sex!

Big f***ing deal!

Stupid mothers

and their kids, man,

so entitled.

Can someone please

turn on the radio?

Yeah, well, we don't jam to

Shakira in this car.

Oh, give me a

f***ing break, man.

I listen to The Doors,

Jimi Hendrix,

The f***ing Stones.

Those are good bands.

The girl's got some... some...

Got some good taste in music.

All right. Everybody,

everybody keep quiet.

This is it.

- Hello?

- Hello.

Who is this?

I'm the last person you want

to send a threatening video to.

I'm going to assume

this is Carlos,

Carlos Rodriguez.

I'm going to assume

this is the f***ing idiot

who doesn't know what

he's got himself into.

This will go a lot easier

if you assume

I'm the smartest

motherf***er alive

because if you don't,

things will turn out very

bad for you very quickly.

Let me talk to my daughter.

Talk to your dad.

Hola Papa?

It's been a long time, hija.

Are they treating you OK?

Give me that.

Hey, reunion is over.

You dare interrupt us when

I haven't spoken to her...

Listen here, you can make up

lost years when we get paid.

Ah, the five million dollars

you requested.

That's a lot of dinero.

You'll have to give me

some time.

No, you have until

tomorrow afternoon.

Outside Barstow.

Take the 35, exit 15.

Take the freeway east,

2 miles on a dirt road.

You come alone, you put

the money in briefcases,

low denominations.

Uh.

Now, wait a goddamn minute.

No, no.

You wait a minute.

This is the last time

we will speak.

If you do anything that

we didn't just discuss

or you don't show...

Then what?

I'll f***ing bury her

out there, a**hole!

Welcome to LA.

F***.

It only opens from the outside.

Yeah. You can't blame

a girl for trying.

Yeah, I guess not.

God, my mom used to say

that she could get from

downtown to Santa Monica

in like 15 minutes flat

back in the '70s.

Do you just see your mom

on the weekends?

You should know,

Mr. Facebook.

She's gone.

Dead?

No, just gone.

I like to think that

she met someone special

and is on a beach

in Mexico somewhere

sipping on margaritas,

living the good life.

I take it your mother and

father didn't get along?

Yeah, that's an understatement.

I mean, my mom was way too

much of a free spirit for him.

He tried to control her.

He tried to control me

and that's why

we don't talk anymore.

I don't know why the f***

I'm telling you guys this.

I mean, you're all way

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