Hell Ride

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Safe-keep the treasure.

I know you'll keep your word baby.

Safe-keep the treasure for my boy.

Keep safe, the treasure. For my boy

F***ing

F***ing arrow.

F***ing arrow in the middle of the f***ing desert.

It's a nihilist dream come true.

It's a hell of a place to die.

It's a hell of a way to die.

It was goddamn perfect.

Shut up.

You want a swing of this whiskey before I pull that arrow?

It's my destiny to die right here with a f***ing

arrow sticking out of me.

With any luck The Gent and Comanche will die laughing.

Guess I'm gonna live another day.

chuckles

You got that right.

Ah hell.

F***er's gonna burn.

Come on! Hey! Hey!

Heeyyyy!

This might be the best dust I've ever seen.

Pistol, I've been up to my ass in dust plenty of times, but...

This kinda dust is like a supreme kind of dust.

It's like been sent from some other planet.

It's like, I just want to live in dust now for the rest of my life.

Shut the f*** up!

Where's Comanche?

He's over there taking a piss.

He doesn't wanna get any dust on his dick.

When we ride, move him up to my left.

You're name is Bix?

Forget Bix.

From now on, you're known as Comanche.

"Had they really nailed everyone responsible

for St. Louie's death?"

Thought Pistolero.

Sorry, my finger got stuck

Next time, share a little.

The Six-Six-Six'ers...

They're back.

Something is rotten in the State of Pistolero.

grunting Motherf***er!

So I say...

Cut off their heads, take 'em with us.

I say we just take a few pinkies and...

Call it a day.

How's about we take their stash, torch the trailer

and get the f*** out of here.

Why don't you put a smile on your face.

Let some sunshine in.

Life is good.

You're having a bad hair day, ask Comanche to take

a little off the top.

Thanks for that.

Danke schn, for the second-hand smoke.

You got right on the edge there.

Closer than a hair on a nad's ass

On the verge of the brink?

- Yeah.

Reading the situation exactly right...

Is how come I'm the Pres.

Hey Comanche, listen...

Pistolero...

Wanted me to pass on some important information to you.

There's a job opening at Super Cuts

About two and a half miles up the road

Those mutherfuckers had it coming.

Yeah.

Louie really was a f***ing saint.

- Yeah

I'm gonna keep cutting up any motherf***er

that had anything to do with him dying.

Trigger...

You named your bike after a horse?

Exactly...

How old is Trigger in...

Horse-bike years?

Uhh... She's younger than the women I saw you

in that bar in Reno last week.

I gotta tell you, she's less horsie-looking too.

Pistolero wants you on his left.

Speechless ey?

The left, huh?

I've never seen anybody move up so fast before.

And I'll do my best to remember that.

Anything you want to get off your chest.

Anything you want to talk about.

Just think of us as a...

Support group.

Well, golly gee.

Thanks!

Lets get the f*** out of this motherfucking hellhole!

Bob the Bum...

We...

Are...

Financially...

Solvent.

Bob the Bum. It's good to be financially solvent!

Hey, can we talk?

Can we talk? You wanna talk?

- Yeah, it's... kinda important.

Now?

- Yeah, it's... kinda like, real f***ing important.

Can't it wait a couple of hours, you bum?

Yeah, we'll talk in about a month and a half.

It was America's Bicentennial.

And for Johnny,

St. Louie, and Eddie Zero...

Rebellion was still in the air.

Sonny!

The three Victors had a little business

with the Deuce and Billy Wings.

It was the beginning of bad blood.

Wanna f***?

Trust me, after I give you the bad news

You ain't gonna wanna f***. Ever. Again.

F*** me good one more time,

before you never wanna f*** again.

I'm the Messenger of Misery, baby.

But f*** first

Then I'll deliver my miserable message.

Let's f*** right here.

We never f***ed right here before.

F*** me good, right here baby.

If you don't f*** me right now,

you are going straight to Hell.

Baby... I'm already in Hell.

Apparantely I made a reservation this morning.

Did you make a reservation for two?

It's a very strict dress code in Hell.

You know, you just can't waltz into Hell.

There's a doorman outside.

- Baby...

I was built for Hell.

I'm your devil babe

I'm your very own, personal hellcat.

Hellhole.

Baby, you're good.

Baby, you're bad!

Give me the info.

Can I ask you something first?

Go ahead.

Just what kind of f***ing President are ya?

Everybody wants you assassinated.

Maybe you don't belong in the Presidential Suite.

I'm better than the CIA,

Better than the Internet, better than the Enquire.

I'm better than all of them put together.

I've gathered more intelligence

than anyone you've ever met.

I'm better than deep throat.

Give me the f***ing info.

Okay...

The Six-Six-Six'ers are reforming

in the City of Angels.

The Deuce and Billy Wings are back

with a vengeance.

Always pay your debts to Billy Wings.

Late last night a message was sent to all

Hellraisers that said,

"The Deuce would like life a lot better"

"If he was living in Victors' territory."

Give me something new, yah?

This whole Deuce-business

Has something to do with 1976.

Something to do with that Cherokee Kisum woman.

That's all I wanted to hear.

Now we f***.

Get much out of Opium yet?

Yep.

Flowing red in there. Blood alley.

What do you got so far?

How much can you live with?

I can stomach anything. I got a stomach.

Speed and Machete, are tied to the Deuce.

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