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1

Hello.

They call me doom-head.

Now, I don't call myself

doom-head, mind you, but they do.

Who's they?

Well, some mysterious folks that pay me

a whole lot of scratch to do what I do.

And what I do,

unfortunately for you...

I do real well.

Now.

Let's get one thing

between us straight.

I ain't no f***ing clown.

Now Mr. P.T. Barnum may claim clowns are

the pegs on which this circus is hung...

But I isn't no f***ing clown.

Now you may think you see a grease-painted

performer sitting before you

who would usually elicit an

amused response from an audience,

but trust me.

You do not.

I'm not here to make you happy.

I'm not here to brighten

your dismal day

and I am certainly not here

to elicit an amused response.

I am here to end your

miserable f***ing life.

But first...

Mm.

First,

I'm gonna bless you

with a story.

See I don't think the last sound to

puncture your ear drums should be

the twang of your

body falling apart.

Snap! Oooh.

Crunch.

Interesting fact:

Did you know that a cockroach can

live up to 168 hours without a head?

I find this... fascinating.

But what really blows

my f***ing marbles

like a 50-cent skank,

I mean the real mind-f***er,

is that for several more hours

this same decapitated head

will keep on truckin' for Jesus.

If properly nourished,

of course.

You know, all in all,

you've had a pretty good run.

But, uh, deep down inside you must have

known it all had to end somewhere.

Might as well be here.

Might as well be now.

And it might as well be with me.

Where's my wife? What did you sick

bastards do to my beautiful wife?

She's the mother of

our two beautiful girls.

Rebecca, Josephine, they're beautiful,

they're just like her, please.

Oh.

I know where she is.

Two little clowns I know

took a fancy to her.

So I think she might be sticking

around for a bit, huh?

...though I walk through the valley of

the shadow of death I fear no evil...

Christ almighty, you Jesus freaks

are so f***ing sensitive, huh?

Sh*t.

You should be thanking me, man.

I'm sending you straight to the f***ing

pearly gates with a first-class ticket.

I should apologize in advance

for not sharpening this thing.

It might take

a couple of extra whacks.

Listen to me. Listen to me, please,

I'm begging you. I'm begging you.

You don't have...

You don't have to do this.

We can all walk away.

Bring Georgina to me.

And you let us walk away,

no one would know.

- F*** it.

- No, no.

You know what they say,

Kemosabe, in hell,

everybody loves popcorn.

Number f***ing two.

Hey Randy, man, I hope you know that

"e" stands for "empty." Not "eat."

I am hungry,

but that's not possible.

Check it.

Oh, suck my motherfucking balls!

No thanks.

How am I supposed to work with

this inferior goddamn equipment?

Is that what the ladies

are calling it now?

Trust me, my doo-Wally's

working fine.

Hey, look here boy,

if this monster break down

here in the ass of nowhere

you gon' get your lard ass out

there and you gon' push

with the bumper up your ass.

Venus, I think it might be time to bring

back the girl into a gorilla-lusion.

Oh, you all got a gorilla?

Yeah I got a f***ing gorilla,

he's in my pants,

I call him king dong.

Whoa, hey, whoa filly.

- I assume you're joking.

- I am not.

I mean, haven't we got enough to

worry about, without you

framing up a new show?

I mean, besides,

who's gonna hustle

this other sh*t?

You think I want to be

a f***ing mechanic?

Fixing these death traps

the rest of my life?

I mean, I got dreams.

And they do not include yanking

some kid's chewed up arm

out of the gears of a

tilt-a-whirl.

Baby, I got dreams too.

You go for it.

Get the f*** off me.

Hey, baby girl,

I mean, what do you think

about that talent back there?

I mean, the one with

the lop-sided high beams,

I mean, I don't know,

she's either drunk or retarded.

Seriously?

She's gonna twitch and itch

her ass all around the mid-way.

Uh-huh, just like

all the new babies do.

- But that's why I afraid.

- Hmm?

A new wave of crap's coming.

- Oh...

So what exactly is the name

of this show of yours?

Okay, dig this.

Professor Houldini's

mad gorilla monster show.

Ooh, I'd go see that show.

The name's got some grab, but

you're still minus one jungle girl.

Oh, I could be a jungle girl, I took a

acting class before I left high school.

Just shut the f*** up

for two seconds.

That's where Charly girl

comes in.

Charly hardly looks

like a wild woman of Borneo.

Besides, you know the chi is my

main hustle in the girly show.

Okay, we dump the whole Borneo

sh*t, okay? We work a new angle.

The yokels had burnt out

on that yarn ten years ago.

What's a yokel?

What's the word on this wacky weed this

fine sunny, sunny day, sweet jolly girl?

The Midwest says sweet jolly,

she got some sweet rasta sh*t.

- Boo-ya-ka, boo-ya-ka.

- Oh my sweet jolly,

pass your brothers a hit.

Ah, it isn't mine, baby.

Yeah, there boy.

I gotta keep my eyes

on the road.

This sh*t's the real deal.

Think you two can handle it?

I try, I try.

First hit's free.

After that you lay

out the green,

before jolly gets too mean.

Sh*t, warm it up for her.

Mm-hmm.

Levon, I gotta get in there.

- Levon!

- Go away!

Hey, it isn't the Levon show.

Go away!

Come on, man.

I just gotta get something out

of the... I gotta get...

Oh, god damn man, can't you

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