Let Me Make You a Martyr

---

("Slippin' into

darkness" by war)

Slippin' into darkness

take my mind

beyond the dreams

I was slippin' into darkness

yeah

take my mind

beyond the dreams

where I talk to my brothers

oh-oh-oh-oohh

(doorbell rings)

June, wake the f*ck up.

What the f*ck is goin' on?

What don't you two gentlef*cks

tell me what it

is I can do for ya

at 7 A.M. on a f*ckin' Tuesday.

Listen, cut the shit.

You know why we're here.

See originally,

the plan was just

to take your friend.

The dead one over there with us.

Looks like you're gonna

have to take his place.

It's time to pay up.

Alright, here's

how it's gonna go.

Either one of you

raise those my way,

and you're both gonna

be a couple of f*ckin'

Jackson pollocks on

the wall behind you!

Look, you would'a shot

me if you were man enough

when I walked through

the f*ckin' door.

You killed your best friend.

Your boss is done.

Your income is gone.

And so is your white pony ride.

Let's face it,

you're a fiend, kid.

I know your family.

They're gonna drop you quicker

than you dropped

that little slut

you've been whorin'

around town with.

I'll have you know

that about two hours

ago I had my dick buried

so deep inside that slut's ass.

The one you're

referring to, I assume.

My girlfriend.

And as for this f*ck,

he did it to himself.

God knows why.

Let's just just get

this shit over with.

You know you're dead already.

But if this is

how it's gonna go,

then roll the curtains.

(Gun clicks)

You can't fight fate.

I'll tell ya, if

god's in this room,

he's one sick f*ck.

(Busting door open)

(Tense music)

Name, date of birth.

Nothin' to say for yourself?

That's alright.

No one leaves here

without full disclosure.

Take him to six.

(Door slams)

(Coughs)

(Door opens)

(Door closes)

Let's see.

Glass, glass.

Drew, is it?

Of course it is.

What is this, am

I being charged?

We'll get to that

when we get there.

Now, you are, in fact,

Mr. glass, I presume?

Yeah.

See, how hard was that?

And you are Mr. glass

of September, 1984.

Yeah.

Born to Veronica black.

Deceased, December

of 1985. Correct?

Father unknown.

Assumed and adopted by one

Lawrence Fitzgerald glass.

What is this about?

(Slashing)

We'll get to that, I promise.

Just answer

as I ask.

However trivial or

menial it may sound.

So?

[Charon] So.

Am I being charged?

Oh, well, let me explain to you

what it is exactly that I do.

I'm a glorified buffer of sorts.

A bag man in my previous life.

The reason I do what I do,

and the man in charge chose me,

is because I have the

impeccable ability to remain

non-partisan and unwavering,

while retaining

the relevant amount of empathy

it takes to sit

across this table.

Now, we're gonna

cover a lot of ground

in a short period of time.

So, we will start

small and simple

and follow all the

splinters as they surface.

So, I need you to tell

me how you got here.

What happened?

I'm not exactly sure.

(Gun cocks)

(Exhales)

Too much too soon, huh?

Okay, what about

the previous day?

Where did that begin?

A blow job?

A cup of coffee?

Suduko?

It doesn't have to be

significant or profound,

we're just tryin'

to find a beginning.

Nine times out of 10, these

things start with a car ride.

Or a woman.

[Drew] It started with both.

Proceed.

Tell me about the girl.

(Somber music)

(Airplane propeller roaring)

(Crickets chirp)

(Car door opens)

(Door slams)

What the hell is goin' on, man?

Why you takin' a f*ckin'

attitude with me?

Don't forget I took my night off

to drive the f*ck out

here to bum f*ck nowhere.

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