Stakeout Page #3

- How'd you like me to piss on you? -|Sit down! - You see this? - Sit down!

- Think I broke my zipper.|- That's enough.

Now, this is not an invitation|to a prom, boys.

I don't give a sh*t|if you don't like the date.

Now, you gentlemen are going to watch this broad|until the fat lady sings or I say different.

And if you f*** this up,|I'm gonna take your nuts...

and tie 'em in a knot|and run 'em through my shredder.

- Captain?|- Yeah?

- Phil doesn't have any nuts, sir.|- Get out. Get out. Get out.

Downwind, please. Please.

All right, that's hers.

And we're there.

Home, sweet home.

I don't know. I just hope|the place has got some heat.

- Carol's okay with all this, isn't she?|- Yeah.

Bonnie's gonna kill me if she ever finds out|we're gonna be here for a couple of weeks.

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho|It's off to work we go

Oh, God.

Lucy!|You got some explaining to do.

Very attractive. Yeah.|I think Jason lives here.

- What a nightmare.|- Really.

What the hell did we do|to deserve this?

I think it was that stripper|we sent to the captain on his birthday.

I told you we should have|sent the woman.

Yeah, I think you're right.|I screwed up.

- Hello?|- Hello, baby.

- Hi. Where are you?|- Well, right now, I am freezing my butt off...

staring through a telescope|at a house on Speck Road.

Didn't anyone ever tell you|that's against the law?

- Yeah, right.|- No personal calls, no personal calls.

Chris and I got a stake-out,|the night shift.

That does it. I'm crossing|the captain off the Christmas list.

Yeah.

- Uh, Chris says hi.|- That's nice.

- So how long is this one supposed to take?|- Couple of weeks.

A couple of weeks? Jeffrey will be|full grown next time you see him.

Yeah, I know.|I hope he remembers me.

All right, listen, I gotta go, okay?|All right, I love you.

- I love you too.|- Be good. Bye.

Bye-bye.

Pizza.

I think we're in luck.

We got every room covered,|except the bathroom.

- Hey, you know, maybe you should call Bonnie.|- She'll only yell. I'm not in the mood.

- Well, I can call her. You want me to call?|- No, no, no. That's okay. I- I can call her.

I can take care of my own love life,|thank you very much. Get away. Get away.

She's probably in bed|with some other guy.

- Poor bastard.|- Poor bastard.

- So, who we watching anyway?|- Uh, Miss Maria Guadalupe-

- Guadalupe.|- McGuire.

Irish-Mexican. A waitress going to night|school, but apparently not this quarter.

She drives a 1980 Volkswagen.|Lives alone.

- Nothing.|- Long, brown hair. Brown eyes.

- Five-foot-six. Too tall.|- Too tall. For us anyway.

Oh, and the moment|we've all been waiting for-

313 pounds.

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