88 Page #3

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tomorrow is going to be f***ing awesome.

You calling me Gwenny is what

don't make no sense, old man.

Let her go.

Name's Flamingo.

Give me Room 88.

Flamingo. Flamingo.

Who are you,

Mr. Cyrus Brenwin?

She owes me everything!

What the f***

do you want with me?

"88 Wilmont Lane. "

I guess we'll just

have to find out.

We need some guns and intel.

As newly appointed leader, I

will totally take care of it.

Who did you say this was?

- Lemmy.

You are going to love her.

Conrad, Richard.

How are you doing, fellas?

Ready?

Heya, Lemmy!

- Hey, Ty.

Get your sweet ass in here.

Ain't she pretty?

She likes you.

I have got something

I'm just dying to show you.

This here tortoise.

It took me 34 tries

to get him just right.

But look at his smile.

I mean, look at his grin.

Tortoises are just so cute. They're

stupid, but they live forever.

Well,

I'm just about leisured out.

Ty, what can I

do for you, baby?

Well...

Gotta restock.

Conrad, Richard?

Totally untraceable,

as per usual.

Nice.

Lemmy, while I'm here,

have you, by chance, been keeping up

your business relationships with Cyrus?

You're kidding me, right, Ty?

I mean,

he's completely lost it.

Little birdy told me

that he severed ties

with Vinny the other day,

killing one of his boys in the process

and sewing the other boy's lips shut.

You know where we

can find Cyrus now?

I haven't

the slightest clue, honey.

I mean,

he's been hanging real low

ever since some crazies opened

up on him at the bowling alley

the other night.

You wouldn't happen to know anything

about that now, would you, Ty?

No, of course not.

I didn't think so.

Well, enough about that.

It's boring.

Shall we?

I have got this new toy

I'm just dying to show you.

Check this out.

Oh! It was blessed by a Tibetan

monk that I sell grenades to.

Ain't she sexy?

Police! Don't move!

Everybody down on the floor.

Oh, sh*t.

Oh, me, oh my.

Drop your weapon.

Well, that ain't fun.

Fire!

Fire!

Drop your weapon.

Shoot!

Shoot! Shoot!

God damn it.

Don't move!

Get her!

On my signal,

we make a run for it.

We've got an

officer down. Need backup now.

Don't worry.

This shield's been blessed

by the Pope, yeah?

Yeah.

Don't worry.

It's just a flesh wound.

I'll walk it off.

Get out of here, sexies.

12-10, we have two suspects.

Standing by.

All right.

Look at me. Look at me.

We gotta go, Flamingo, okay?

Lemmy just got

shot in the throat.

- On the count of three.

- No!

One,

two, three! Go!

Go! Come on!

Sheriff,

they're coming your way.

Ready your weapons.

Hang on tight, girly.

Don't move!

Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!

Go! Go! Go! Go!

Fire!

Come on!

- Stop right there!

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