The Human Centipede III (Final Sequence)

1

Well, what do you think?

Jesus Christ.

I f***in' told you these movies

would be sh*t

and they are pure sh*t,

literally, they stink.

I can tell you why you insisted to

show me this trash, you vain dumb-ass.

Shave off your stupid brush and you'll

look precisely like this retarded pervert.

Are we f***in' done?

I kinda like these movies.

Everyone's talking about them.

Bill doesn't like when things

are more insane than he is.

Watch it, tits!

Having the privilege to f***,

suck me dry

still doesn't give a woman...

the right to an opinion.

Sir, I'm sorry, it was just a joke...

Shut your p*ssy mouth

and go answer my f***in' mail.

Why do you look so damn pleased?

Well, sir, I think I've found

the solution to all our problems.

- What?

- Mr. Boss, we've got a code 6 in block 4.

Not again.

Dammit!

Sir, our prison relatively

has the highest personnel turnover,

violence rates, legal and medical costs

than any other institution

in the US correctional system.

Things will have to change fast

or Governor Hughes will replace us.

Over my dead body.

Get a load of Billy Boss.

What, you think you're

a f***ing lone ranger?

I'm no ke-mo f***ing sah-bee, b*tch!

Please, sir?

I think I have the solution.

Doors, for the boss.

Scheiss, Nazi.

I'm gonna rape you...

to f***ing death...

and it scares you.

I can see it...

you motherf***er.

What's his number?

Prisoner 297, sir.

Make a note.

I'll treat this walking

skin cancer later on.

Stop moving! Medic's coming.

- Which cocksucker did this?

- Hold his arm down, goddammit.

178, sir.

By the way, doc,

I need my physical check up.

- See you in an hour, at your office.

- Sir?

Did you hear me?

Yes, sir!

F*** you!

Look.

Death, rape will be your destiny!

What's the ape n*gger's

masturbation arm?

He's right handed, sir.

God!

Turn him around, belly down.

You want more?

Please, sir, no more.

Think of the medical expenses.

When your little monkey bones

are healed...

I'll come by for a follow up.

I'm gonna kill you, you wait!

You wanna rape me to death?

Death trap, death trap, death trap!

Come on, motherfuckers!

On your knees!

I want respect!

I deserve respect!

Respect!

Respect!

Respect!

Oh, God.

160 to 120.

Sweet bleeding Jesus.

- Listen, Bill, my plan...

- Shut the f*** up.

I need to relax for a few minutes!

How can you relax

with such problems at hand?

- I... I believe...

- I believe...

in bringing back

medieval torture methods.

Reverse hanging,

Spanish boots,

and the good old rack!

Statistics show that the system

as it is now just doesn't function.

Poisonous spiders...

for prisoners with arachnophobia.

Massive force feeding

with raw slaughterhouse waste of pork

for Muslims and Jews.

Beat them crippled

with their Torahs, Korans or Bibles.

More than $50 Billion a year

are spent on corrections.

Yet more than 4 in 10

offenders nationwide

return to prison within three years

of their release.

Eyes for eyes.

Teeth for teeth, times 100!

A prison should be a real deterrent

not a goddamn nursing home.

I agree! But medieval torture

ain't gonna be the answer.

Something else will.

That's why...

Mr. Boss...

I have a special delivery for you.

Don't bother me, tits. Goddammit!

I have to think!

Sorry, sir.

No, wait.

Give it to me.

Your rolling ass cheeks

tell me what it must be.

By the way I need my ball sack

emptied before lunch.

Holy sh*t.

What is that?

Tribe leaders in Africa

chew them for unbelievable strength.

Yeah, but what exactly is it?

- Dried clitorises.

- What?

Clit-o-ris-es!

What?

- We are comin'.

- What?

- We are comin' to your office, b*tch.

- Who's this?

Oh, you don't know who I am?

It's your death squad

coming to rape you to pieces,

you f***ing white trash!

Give me a guard

on the line this instant!

Somethin' wrong?

They are coming.

- Who's comin'?

- It's a code 8.

What's going on?

- F*** off!

- Hey!

This time...

it is real, jerk!

Really real!

Oh, no. Not again.

Yes, sir?

- What's goin' on?

- Sorry, Mr. Butler,

346 must have used his once a month

family phone call to call Mr. Boss.

Won't happen again.

False alarm!

Why didn't you let me in?

What's going on?

This goddamn heat is drivin' me insane.

Sir, Doctor Jones called

about your physical...

Whoever did this is...

f***ed!

Well, your heart is racing.

Have you been under a lot of stress?

Stress is for pussies.

I also hear a heart murmur.

Listen,

I'm not f***in' paying you

to give me bad news.

I would like to draw some blood

and do an EKG as well.

I demand some f***in' good news...

or your ass will be fired.

There's nothin' wrong with me, right?

You're in perfect health, sir.

Great.

I knew it.

Back to work!

F***! F***!

Billy Boss,

good that you joined the party!

Are there any regrets,

you little phone-action Tonto?

I would scalp you

if you had any f***in' hair.

F***...

F***er...

- What is this?

- Water, sir.

I said boiling water...

f*** face!

Yeah, get some teabags

with that too, Earl Grey.

Please, sir, just think

of the outrageous medical costs.

It's our jobs on the line here.

Sir, Governor Hughes

will be arriving in 20 minutes.

What? Today?

I thought that lobby whore

would come in on Thursday?

Sorry, it's in the agenda for today.

Sh*t!

Try to make him touch your ass

so we can sue his ass

for sexual harassment!

I will, sir.

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