The Adventures of Ford Fairlane Page #2

When are you gonna let me work with you?

Why are you always f***in' with me?

Excuse me! You say the f-word again,

I'll bang you right the f*** out.

Do you understand me?

Now get the f*** outta here.

(muffled banging)

I've got something serious to discuss.

Yeah, what is it? Premature ejaculation? Ha!

You know, Ford,

sometimes you can be a real dick.

"Dick", "f***"... What kinda kid are you?

(muffled) Fairlane...

My office was at the Crossroads of the World.

The rent was high,

but it was worth it for those chicks.

Those big, fat chicks.

They say all the time,

you know I love your stuff

But no matter what,

they just can't get enough

- Hey, my man Slam.

- Yo. What's happenin'? Cool coat.

Why don'tyou take it across the street to the

7-Eleven? I'm poppin' a f***in' brain vessel.

If your big gulp-head producer clients

would dare to show a little brains,...

..they would sign my ass up on

that tour and I'd be touring the world.

1990 would be a most glorious year,

you know what I'm sayin'?

Hey, look. I'm only bullshittin'. You know

I dig the new stuff. It's f***in' phenomenal.

Some people are claustrophobic,

Fairlane. I'm allergic too.

So don't make it out like

I'm some kind of weirdo.

- You can't prove sh*t.

- Shut up.

Good morning.

She said, as the clock struck five.

Josie was hungry, so I sent The Pussycats

for food. They've been waiting.

They're only a double-platinum band.

They have nothing better to do, right?

Silence, Jazz. That tip paid off.

This is Sam the Sleazebag.

Sam the Sleazebag, Jazz.

- My assistant.

- Hey, Ford. A little late, huh?

I love you all.

That's him. That's the bastard

who flashed us at the Amphitheatre.

- You b*tches have no proof.

- Shut up.

I think I could identify it.

It looked like a dick, only smaller.

All right, Sam. We're gonna letyou go, OK?

- We just gotta keep the evidence.

- (all) What?

(bell rings)

Now... you pay.

- It's called citizen's castration.

- Argh!

Next time, it'll be for real.

- Argh! Argh!

- (crash)

You stupid Sal's-Pizza-

garlic-breath-smelling motherf***er.

Today is the last day of the rest of your life.

Take this, Ford,

as payment for a job well done.

It's solid gold. It'll make sure

you're not late for other clients.

- No, money's fine, really.

- Bye, Ford.

- You're our hero.

- You're the greatest.

(mimicking) "Bye, Ford."

Let me cheer you up, Ford.

I've got the INXS payment.

There you go. G'day!

- They say it's worth three grand.

- (koala chatters)

F***in' Australians. I hate that country.

Continent, whatever the hell it is.

Don't we do nuclear testing there?

What is that? Some kind of giant mouse?

Down. Down and eat.

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