Bullet Head Page #6

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Good boy.

Who's a little boy?

Good boy, Charlie.

You're a good boy,

Charlie.

DISPATCHER:

210, we're all clear in there.

Just Charlie

chasing his tail again.

Copy that.

[loud bang]

GAGE:

Let me in.

[knocking on door]

[knocking persists]

STACY:

What about the dog?

It's out here playing Frisbee

with me.

The thing was half dead

to begin with.

Let me the f*** in.

[objects crash]

Are you rearranging

the f***ing furniture?

Look, there's a van downstairs

in a loading dock.

I bet you my whole share

the key's sitting right there

in the dead guy's

f***ing pocket.

Okay, let me the f*** in.

You pull that sh*t again,

you're going to stay out there.

Yeah, whatever.

[dog barks]

[growling]

WALKER:
F***!

Sh*t. F***. Sh*t.

[groans]

F***!

Hey!

[grunts]

Oh, f***.

[barking]

Oh, sh*t.

[growling]

Run, man. Go.

[panting]

Run!

F***. Sh*t.

[barking]

Kid? You hear me?

Look at me. You okay?

WALKER:

Broke a rib. I'll live.

Help me with the f***ing kid.

STACY:

Ah, Christ. F***ing sh*t.

WALKER:

Hang in there.

We're going to find something

to make you a tourniquet.

Okay?

[barks and growls]

Staunch the flow

and clean it up.

[panting]

F***!

WALKER:
F***!

Come on!

Come on. Jesus.

Sh*t.

[distant indistinct chatter]

[dog whines]

MAN 1:

Get the f*** out of here!

MAN 2:

I got-- I got a bag of marbles

around here...

[indistinct chatter]

[dogs barking]

[whines]

That's your prospect?

Uh-huh.

MAN:
Ain't nothing but a pup.

I've been working him.

MAN:

Sh*t. What line he from?

HANDLER:

Scatter-bred.

MAN:

All respect due,

I don't think you want a tot

going 40 pounds uphill

on the Russian.

Do I look like

a yard boy to you?

Take the f***ing dog

and put it in the corner.

Come on, boy.

[dog panting]

[growling]

[growls and barks]

[panting]

[barking]

You could call it

if it's ugly.

You can't.

[dog whining]

Shh.

[barking]

Release your dog.

[dogs growling and barking]

[bodies crashing,

flesh tearing]

[growling, flesh tearing]

[dog whimpers]

[body thuds]

Yeah.

No main cables.

Walker knows

a good doctor.

He came up doing cuts

for Chuck Wepner,

so he's seen a lot worse.

He'll get you squared away,

as soon as we get the f***

out of here.

Sorry about...

Yeah, well...

sorry about your face.

F***ing Weeble Wobble, man.

What the f***'s

a Weeble Wobble?

It's a toy.

F***ing Weeble Wobble,

you know?

Weeble Wobble?

Don't fall down?

Like-- Like a--

Like a Slinky.

Forget it.

Tournament brackets.

WALKER:

Looks like it.

F***ing hell.

What are these? Purses?

WALKER:

Note 25, 50, 100, two.

This is chump change.

Look at this guy.

Was he fighting pairs?

Tough motherf***er.

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