Shoot 'Em Up

Synopsis: Late at night, in an unnamed U.S. city, a solitary man sits at a bus stop. A pregnant woman runs by, pursued by a man with a gun. With reluctance, the man at the bus stop rescues her and assists with the baby's delivery, while additional pursuers fire at them, including the gang's particularly nasty leader, an intuitive man named Hertz. Our hero, known only as Smith, determines to save the child and find out why Hertz wants the baby dead. At a local bordello, he tries to employ a lactating hooker to watch the child, but things quickly escalate, and this makeshift family is soon on the run. Heavy metal music calms the baby. Why? A laboratory, gun factory, and presidential campaign all figure in Smith's quest for the child's safe deliverance.
Genre: Action, Comedy, Crime
Director(s): Michael Davis
Production: New Line Cinema
  3 nominations.
 
IMDB:
6.7
Metacritic:
49
Rotten Tomatoes:
67%
R
Year:
2007
86 min
$12,800,000
Website
989 Views


You're dead, b*tch!

What the hell you lookin' at?

F***in' hell.

looks like you are

sh*t outta luck, beautiful.

Now I'm gonna give you

your C-section.

You son of a bi...

Eat your vegetables.

She's in here!

Come on!

Where is she?

There she is!

- Get out of here!

- Over there!

Kill her on sight!

Who the f*** is that?

Where the hell is the girl?

Get him!

Jesus!

Oh, God! F***!

Come on, push. Push!

My hand!

- Do you know what I hate?

- No.

I hate these 40-year-old jack-holes

wearing ponytails.

- That ponytail doesn't make you look hip...

- Come on.

...young, or cool.

OK, it's comin'. Come on.

Give me one big push.

What the f***?

I'm bleedin'. I'm bleedin' out.

Quit squirming,

you're ruining my shot.

What a piece of crap.

We're outta here.

Sorry about

the messy delivery, Mom.

We need quiet.

Give Junior something to drink.

Bravo, Mr. Hero. Bravo.

Why you tryin' to kill this woman?

Something funny?

Oh, I was just remembering

a limerick.

Well, 'There once was a woman

who was quite begat...

'She had three babies

named Nat, Pat and Tat...

'She said it was fun

at the breeding...

'But found it was hell

in the feeding...

'When she saw there was

no tit for Tat. '

You have caused me

no end of trouble.

But now I shall return the favor.

Tit for tat, right?

Now, see, that's the latest thing.

The gun will only fire

when it recognizes...

the thumbprint of the owner.

It makes firearms safer

and it cuts down the crime too.

Get him!

Who are you?

lady, what's your name?

Nice knockers.

God damn it!

F*** you, ya f***in' f***ers.

Tit for tat, Mr. Hero.

Tit for tat.

Get him in there. Come on.

I was goin' back for her, boss.

No, I got it.

Hey, I'm not the head honcho

who sits on his hands...

warming them

with his own exhaust...

while everybody else

does the work.

Every second counts, right?

Now, how the heck

did this happen, huh?

Everything was goin' smooth

at the safe house...

...when the woman draws a gun.

I mean, who expects a pregnant

lady to pull a piece on ya, eh?

And who was this man

who was with her?

I don't know.

After the woman escaped,

we tracked her here.

This guy, he was hangin' around...

at the bus stop.

I mean, so we decided

that we'd deal with him later...

but we go after the woman...

he gets in on the action. You know?

He took a gun,

he started shootin' at us,

and that's...

that's when y...

- Oh. OK.

... you arrived.

Take it easy. Sit down.

All right.

Oh, you all right?

OK.

Are you tryin' to tell me...

that some bum

came to her rescue?

Well, well, well,

this is a fine mess, huh?

I won't make

this mistake again.

Well, I got a piece of lead

in my butt as a reminder.

OK.

I can appreciate that.

My ass!

And let that be a reminder

never to fail me again.

Damn.

Don't make me kill you

to get the baby.

Back off.

Sweetie, this deal is almost done.

look, I've already booked

my flight home.

OK?

OK.

I love you too.

Yeah. Bye-bye.

You know why a gun

is better than a wife?

Don't know.

Well, you can put

a silencer on a gun.

Sir, we spotted the target...

at Third and Jefferson heading

toward the park.

Turn us around.

Come on! Dad!

- Come on.

- All right.

Who's Daddy's little girl?

Don't worry, kid.

Someone good'll find you.

Oh, my God, look at this.

Someone left a baby.

Oops.

F*** me sideways.

Welcome back, Mr. Smith.

Where's Quintana?

Wait, Smith, Mistress Donna's

with a customer.

Wait, you can't go up there.

Oh, yeah, baby.

- Smith?

- You like that, huh?

Besides, I thought Mistress Mary

was more your type.

You can't go up there.

Sorry, pal, the bar's closed.

Wait your turn, Smith.

There's plenty to go around.

Not for me, thanks.

I'm lactose intolerant.

Just tell me

what you want, Smith.

Kinky.

I want you to take care of this

baby for a while.

Five grand.

That should keep you off your

back for a couple of weeks.

Are you clean?

You know

I'm a good Girl Scout.

So you'll do it.

Vaffanculo.

Screw yourself, Smith.

For all I know,

you snatched the kid.

I don't want to be an accessory

for kidnapping.

I didn't steal the kid, trust me.

Trust you?

I don't even know your real name.

Who are you really, Smith?

I'm a British nanny...

and I'm dangerous.

Just keep the baby for one day

and you can keep the whole roll.

Forget it, Dad.

Fine.

Ciao.

Breast milk.

let's go.

This lady's baby needs to be fed.

Find me every wet nurse,

lactating hooker...

and mammary on tap

in the city.

I already told you, Smith,

you're not welcome...

in the land of milk and honey.

I need a little cream for

my coffee and some answers.

I'm sorry.

Scram, fellas.

Give me a moment alone

here with, uh...

Caffe la Mamma.

Relax. Relax.

Mia piccola troietta.

There was a man here

with a baby not too long ago.

Yes. A real jerk.

He wanted me

to take care of the kid.

And what is this man's name?

Smith.

Mr. Smith.

How the hell

do I know his real name?

He saw me a couple of times...

when I was pulling straight tricks.

He always used

the same name... Smith.

I don't believe you.

I think you know

more about this man.

He was a lousy tipper.

It gets hotter the more times it's fired.

If I had anything on him,

I'd tell you.

And it gets a lot more

painful the closer I get.

What's up, Doc?

Oh, you're a 'wascally wabbit. '

But you're not 'wascally' enough.

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote

Michael Davis

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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