Darius Lovehall:
Say, baby... can I be Your slave? I've got to admit girl you're the shit girl... and I'm digging you like a grave. Now, do they call you Daughter to the Spinning Pulsar... or maybe Queen of 10,000 moons? Sister to the Distant yet Rising Star? Is your name Yemaya? Oh, hell no. Its got to be Oshun. Oooh, is that a smile me put on your face, child... wide as a field of jasmine and clover? Talk that talk, honey. Walk that walk, money. High on legs that'll spite Jehovah. Shit. Who am I? It's not important. But me they call me brother to the night. And right now... I'm the blues in yourleft thigh... trying to become the funk in your right. Who am I? I'll be whoever you say? But right now I'm the sight-raped hunter... blindly pursuing you as my prey. And I just want to give you injections... of sublime erections... and get you to dance to my rhythm... make you dream archetypes... of black angels in flight... upon wings of distorted, contorted... metaphoric jizm. Come on slim. Fuck your man. I ain't worried about him. It's you who I want to step to my scene. 'cause rather the deal with the fallacy... of this dry-ass reality... I'd rather dance and romance your sweet ass in a wet dream. Who am I? Well, they call me Brother to the night. And right now I'm the blues in your left thigh... trying to become the funk in your right. Is that all right?
Jay:
[singing] Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, / Mother, mother fuck, / Mother, mother fuck, fuck / Mother fuck, mother fuck, / Noise noise noise, / 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4, / Noise, noise noise / Smokin' weed, smokin' wizz, / Doin' coke, drinkin' beers, / Drinkin' beers, beers, beers, / Rollin' fattys, smokin' blunts, / Who smokes the blunts? / We smoke the blunts. / Rollin' blunts and smokin'...
Teen #2:
Uh, let me get a nickel bag.
Jay:
[singing] / Fifteen bucks, little man, / Put that shit in my hand, / If that money doesn't show, / Then you owe me, owe me, owe, / My jungle love, yeah, / Owe-ee, owe-ee, owe, / I think I want to know ya, know ya, / Yeah, what?
Teen #1:
What the hell are you singing?
Jay:
You don't know "Jungle Love?" That shit is the mad notes. Written by God herself and sent down to the greatest band in the world: The mother-fucking Time.
Teen #2:
You mean the guys in that Prince movie? [Silent Bob points to the two teens]
Teen #1:
Yeah, Purple Rain.
Teen #2:
Man, that shit was so gay - fucking eighties style.
[When their son leaves home and moves into an apartment]
Janet 'Jay' Marie Kyle:
You did what?
Michael Kyle:
Actually, I didn't do anything. He said he wanted to leave, so I said goodbye.
Janet 'Jay' Marie Kyle:
No, no, no, I know you better than that, Michael. You didn't just say fine, did you?
Michael Kyle:
Well, actually I said "so long, see ya sucker, bon voyage, arrivederci, later loser, goodbye, good riddance, peace out, let the doorknob hit ya where the good Lord split ya, don't come back around here no more, hasta la vista baby, kick rocks, and get the hell out," like that.
Janet 'Jay' Marie Kyle:
Do you mean to tell me that you told MY SON "so long, see ya sucker, bon voyage, arrivederci, later loser, goodbye, good riddance, peace out, let the doorknob hit ya where the good Lord split ya, don't come back around here no more, hasta la vista, and get the hell out" - to MY BABY.
Michael Kyle:
No, actually I said "so long, see ya sucker, bon voyage, arrivederci, later loser, goodbye, good riddance, peace out, let the doorknob hit ya where the good Lord split ya, don't come back around here no more, hasta la vista baby, KICK ROCKS, (pauses) and get the hell out. You forgot the "kick rocks." That's really important.
Janet 'Jay' Marie Kyle:
Michael, How did he react when you said "so long, see ya sucker, bon voyage, arrivederci, later loser, goodbye, good riddance, peace out, let the doorknob hit ya where the good Lord split ya, don't come back around here no more, KICK ROCKS, and get the hell out?"
Michael Kyle:
Actually, you left out the "hasta la vista"...
Janet 'Jay' Marie Kyle:
Oh, Michael. Don't say it, again. [makes a diving motion]
Janet 'Jay' Marie Kyle:
I'm on edge, I swear.
Trout Walker:
[Trout appears, pointing a rifle at Kate] You got five seconds to tell me where you buried the lout!
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
I've been waitin' for you, Trout... [she draws her pistol and aims. Trout hesitates, but then she lowers it]
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
I ain't gonna kill you. [she throws the gun down, and Trout's wife picks it up]
Trout Walker:
Where's the loot?
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
There ain't no loot.
Trout Walker:
Don't give me that! You robbed every bank from Hell to Houston!
Linda Walker:
We saw you heading back with a shovel, Miss Katherine!
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
Linda Miller? Is that you?
Linda Walker:
I've been Linda Walker for the past thirteen years!
Trout Walker:
One!
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
Aw, Linda, you were such a good student... you must have married him for his money.
Trout Walker:
Two!
Linda Walker:
Well, it's all gone now! It dried up with the lake. Hasn't rained here since the day they killed Sam! Now you better tell him what he wants, he's a desperate man!
Trout Walker:
Three!
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
Go on, kill me.
Trout Walker:
[smiles crookedly] I ain't gonna kill you. But by the time I'm finished with you, you gonna wish you was dead.
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
[chuckles] I've been wishing I was dead for a long time.
Craig Jones:
About a year ago, my pops quit his dog-catching job and went into business with my uncle Elroy. They ran this spot called Brothers Barbecue. Taste so good, make you wanna slap yo' mama. You might have seen the commercial.
Uncle Elroy:
Ya'll tired of eatin' that barbecue from up the street? Where they give you more sauce than they give you meat? Then bring your big ass down to Bros. Barbecue, 15837 South Crenshaw Boulevard, that's right off Manchester. Bros. Barbecue, tastes so good, make you wanna slap yo' mama! Don't it, Willie?
Mr. Jones:
Yeah, boy! Hey, mama?
Grandma Jones:
What the hell you want, Willie? [Willie slaps her]
Uncle Elroy:
Ain't but one location, so it's nearest you.
Craig Jones:
You might have missed it. They only had enough money for a 15-second spot. Well, my pops hooked us up with a job as Christmas help security.
Connor:
[on the phone with Sidda] Hi.
Sidda:
How did you know it was me?
Connor:
Who else? How are you feeling?
Sidda:
A little disoriented.
Connor:
Well, horse tranquilizers will do that for you.
Sidda:
I can't believe you let them do this.
Connor:
They didn't ask my permission. They called me on the way to the airport, they informed me of their plan. I saw you off.
Sidda:
From where?
Connor:
I met you at the airport, helped them get you on the plane. They're organized. They even had a note from a doctor. By the way, your pills are in your bag.
Sidda:
[to Ya Yas] I have a bag?
Caro:
Yeah, in the closet. Tell Connor we say hello.
Connor:
[Sidda asks Connor if he heard them] Yeah. I'll tell you one thing, meeting them explains a lot about you.
Sidda:
Such as?
Connor:
Well, let me put it this way. You're a hell of a lot more normal than you've any right to be.
Sidda:
Listen, I'm gonna try and bust out of here tomorrow. I gotta get back for work.
Connor:
Don't rush back on my account.
Sidda:
I just said it was for work.
Connor:
And I just meant maybe you ought to try to stay and fix this thing with your mother for once and for all.
Sidda:
Why are you so worried about this?
Connor:
Because I'm afraid that one day our kids may feel that way about you.
Sidda:
Ow.
Connor:
These women may be nuts, but I have a feeling they might know something that you don't.
Sidda:
I don't think it's fair that you're bringing kids we don't even have into this, Connor, okay? That was just a really low blow.
Connor:
Well, that's the way I feel. Stay there. Deal with it.
Sidda:
[hangs up] YOU deal with it.
Jenna:
Dear Baby: If I was writing you a letter, it would probably sounds something like an apology. I know everyone deserves a mama who'd want a nice baby such as yourself... who was also a good wife, a fine member of a society. And I can't rightly say that I'm any of that. And I'm not sure the world is scuh a fine place to bringing you. Many of the people I've met are not worth meeting. Many of the things that happened are not worth living through. And you shouldn't take it personal, Baby... if I don't seem like all the other mama-to-be, jumping all over themselves with joy. I frankly don't know what I got to give you, Baby. What if I leave Earl, and don't win that contest next week, and don't have money? What the hell am I gonna give you then? All my life, Baby, the only thing I wanna do is run away. What kind of mama is that? I wish I could think other things, Baby, like excitement that you with me now... or faith that I'll be a good mama... even if my life ain't such a good place, and the world as I see it ain't so pretty like they'd have you believe in this book. Anyway, writing this letter to you, sounds more like a letter writing to me, don't it? Love, Mama.
King Baldwin IV:
Come forward. I am glad to meet Godfrey's son. He was one of my greatest teachers. He was there when, playing with the other boys, my arm was cut. It was he, not my father's physicians who noticed that I felt no pain. He wept when he gave my father the news, that I am a leper. The Saracens say that this disease is God's vengence against the vanity of our kingdom. As wretched as I am, these Arabs believe that the chastisement that awaits me in hell is far more severe and lasting. If that's true, I call it unfair. Come. Sit. When I was sixteen I won a great victory. I felt in that moment that I should live to be one hundred, now I know I shall not see thirty. You see, none of us chose our end really. A king may move a man, a father may claim a son. But remember that, even when those who move you be kings or men of power, your soul is in your keeping alone. When you stand before God you cannot say "but I was told by others to do thus" or that "virtue was not convinient at the time. This will not suffice. Remember that.
Balian of Ibelin:
I will.
King Baldwin IV:
Then go now to your father's house at Ibelin, and from there protect the pilgim road. Protect the helpless. And then perhaps one day when I am helpless you will come and protect me.
Charley Waite:
[burying Mose and Tig] Be right to say some words.
Boss Spearman:
You want to speak with the man upstairs, go on and do it. I'll stand right here and listen, hat in hand, but I ain't talking to that son or a bitch. And I'll be holding a grudge for him letting this befall a sweet kid like Mose.
Charley Waite:
Well, he sure as hell wasn't one to complain. Woke with a smile, seemed like he could keep it there all day. Kind of a man that'd say 'good morning' and mean it, whether it was or not. Tell you the truth, Lord, if there was two gentler souls in this world, I never seen 'em. Seems like old Tig wouldn't even kill birds in the end. Well, you got yourself a good man and a good dog, and I'm inclined to agree with Boss here about holding a grudge against you for it. I guess that means Amen.
Alonzo Harris:
To be truly effective, a good narcotics agent must know and love narcotics. In fact, a good narcotics agent should have narcotics in his blood.
Jake Hoyt:
Are you gonna smoke that?
Alonzo Harris:
No, you are.
Jake Hoyt:
[laughs] Hell if I am.
Alonzo Harris:
You not gon' smoke it?
Jake Hoyt:
Naw, man. I became a narc to rid the streets of dopers, not to be one.
Alonzo Harris:
Come on, man, take a hit.
Jake Hoyt:
Naw, man.
Alonzo Harris:
[Slams brakes] Yeah, right. If I was a drug dealer, you'd be dead by now, motherfucker. You turn shit down on the streets, and the chief brings your wife a crisply folded flag. What the fuck's wrong with you? Talking about - You know what? I don't want you in my unit. I don't even want you in my division. Get the fuck out the car. Go back to the Valley, rookie.
Jake Hoyt:
All right, I'll smoke it.
Russ Millard:
All right, listen up. No reporters view the body. You photo men - finish taking your pictures now. Coroner's men - put a sheet on the body as soon as they are done. We set up a perimeter six feet back. Any reporter crosses it - arrest him. Now gentlemen, before this gets out of hand, let's put the kibosh on something. With publicity, you get confessions. With confessions, you get crazies, liars, and false leads. So, we keep some things quiet. The uh, ear to ear facial lacerations, disembowelment - you keep this information to yourselves. Not your wives, not your girlfriends, and no other officers, and I mean no... Bleichert, what the hell are you doing here? Where the hell's Blanchard?
Ofcr. Dwight "Bucky" Bleichert:
He's right here.
[Ethel Rosenberg walks into the room]
Roy Cohn:
Aw, fuck. Ethel.
Ethel Rosenberg:
You don't look so good, Roy.
Roy Cohn:
Well, Ethel. I don't feel so good.
Ethel Rosenberg:
But you lost a lot of weight. That suits you. You were heavy back then. Zaftig, mit hips.
Roy Cohn:
I haven't been that heavy since 1960. We were all heavier back then, before the body thing started. Now I look like a skeleton they stare at.
Ethel Rosenberg:
The shit's really hit the fan, huh, Roy? The fun's just started.
Roy Cohn:
What is this Ethel, Halloween? You trying to scare me? Well you're wasting your time 'cause I'm scarier than you are any day of the week! So beat it, Ethel! Boo! Better dead than red! Somebody trying to shake me up? Hm, hm? From the throne of God in heaven to the belly of hell, you can all fuck yourselves and then go jump in the lake because I am not afraid of you or death or hell or anything!
Ethel Rosenberg:
I'll be seeing you soon, Roy. Julius sends his regards.
Roy Cohn:
Yeah, well send this to Julius! [Roy flips her the bird]
Ethel Rosenberg:
You really are a very sick man, Roy.
Charles Eastman:
My dear Senator Dawes, as I believed you sincere in asking me to keep you informed, I write you again in an appeal for your assistance. With no medical equipment here worthy of the name and understocked in medicines, there has been little reason for the sick to risk the journey to the agency for treatment. I bought a horse and a wagon with my own salary and have just now returned from the several weeks in the villages. It is a mistake to trust the official reports. Measles, influenza and whooping cough have ascended from hell all at once. My own assistant's child has been taken. The agent here, Royer, has no experience and even less inclination to help these people. Of equal concern is the epidemic of hopelessness that has overtaken the reservation. That the Sioux would bear the wretched taste of cod-liver oil for the ounce of spirits contained in the bottle is, to me, the whole of their experience in a nutshell. I no longer deny them. Many here fear a return to the old ways. The prophesy of a Paiute shaman called Wovoka has spread from tribe to tribe faster than a telegraph signal, rekindling old superstitions among the Sioux and old apprehensions among the whites who are sure to mistake desperation for hostility. As conditions worsen, the church can provide little solace beyond a Christian burial. Sincerely yours, Charles Eastman.
Donny:
Shit, I never knew nobody who killed somebody.
Alice 'Ali' Willis:
Me neither.
Heather:
Just my grandpa. I never knew him. Yeah. My grandpa was a bad drunk. Really bad. He'd rape anyone dumb enough to walk by his room and one night... he got... um, really pissed at my grandma and he took a claw hammer to her face. And, uh, after that, he just... he locked himself up with her in his room for two whole days and he kept drinking and having sex with her after she was dead. My mom was in the house the whole time.
Donny:
Fuck.
Heather:
She was only 15.
Alice 'Ali' Willis:
Holy shit.
Heather:
You know, it really messed with her head. After that, she only hung out with guys who beat the hell out of her. And when I was little, she'd get drunk and she'd drag me and my brother out of bed at, like, four in the morning and she had all the news clippings about my grandpa and the trial transcriptions and she'd read them over and over again. And I knew every word before kindergarten. I think that's how I learned to read.
JB:
[narrating in song] A long-ass fuckin' time ago in a town called Kickapoo / There lived a humble family religious through and through / But yea there was a black sheep and he knew just what to do / His name was young JB and he refused to step in line / A vision he did see of fucking rocking all the time / He wrote a tasty jam and all the planets did align... [young JB enters playing a guitar]
Lil' JB:
[singing] Oh, the dragon's balls were blazin' as I stepped into his cave / Then I sliced his fucking cockles with my long and shiny blade / 'Twas I who fucked the dragon, fuckalye sing fuckaloo / And if you try to fuck with me then I shall fuck you too / Gotta get it on in the party zone / I gotsta shoot a load in party zone / Gotta lick a toad in the party zone / Gotta suck a choad in the party zone! [Jack's father takes him to his room and spanks him with his belt. A guitar riff is heard starting]
Jack's Father:
[singing] You disobeyed my orders son, why were you ever born? / Your brother's ten times better than you, Jesus loves him more / This music that you've played for us comes from the depths of Hell / Rock 'n' roll's the Devil's work, he wants you to rebel. [begins to tear down JB's rock 'n' roll posters]
Jack's Father:
You'll become a mindless puppet! Beelzebub will pull the strings! / Your heart will lose direction and chaos it will bring / You better shut your mouth, you better watch your tone / You're grounded for a week with no telephone / Don't let me hear ya cry, don't let me hear ya moan / You gotta praise the Lord when you're in my home! [Dad storms out, leaving only one poster: Ronnie James Dio]
Lil' JB:
[singing to the poster] Dio, can you hear me? I am lost and so alone / I'm asking for your guidance, won't you come down from your throne? / I need a tight compadre who will teach me how to rock / My father thinks you're evil, but, man, he can suck a cock / Rock is not the Devil's work, it's magical and rad / I'll never rock as long as I am stuck here with my dad. [the poster comes to life]
Ronnie James Dio:
[singing] I hear you brave young Jables, you are hungry for the rock / But to learn the ancient methods, secret doors you must unlock / Escape your father's clutches in this oppressive neighborhood / On a journey you must go to find the land of Hollywood / In the City of Fallen Angels, where the ocean meets the sand / You will form a strong alliance and the world's most awesome band / To find your fame and fortune, through the valley you must walk / You will face your inner demons, now go my son and ROCK! [JB jumps out the window and runs away from home]
JB:
[narrating in song] So he bailed from fucking Kickapoo with hunger in his heart / And he journeyed far and wide to find the secrets of his art / But in the end he knew that he would find his counterpart / Rock! / Rah-ha-ha-ha-hock / Rah-ha-ha-ha-ha... [babbles]
JB:
Rock!
King Leo:
You arrive early. My daughter and I welcome you. What news from Normandy?
Jamal:
What news? Well a couple of drive-bys, other than that, same ole same ole.
King Leo:
When will the Duke arrive to take my daughter's hand?
Jamal:
This is a hell of a setup you've got here. I mean, I'm not lyin'. I mean. Wooh! You got to have major coins behind this. Who's backin you, Puffy?
King Leo:
Silence, Moor! Tell me when will the Duke arrive.
Jamal:
Oh, I, I get it. You wanna see if I can improv. Ok, well let's see. Uh. The Duke will arriveth in all his royal pomposity and splendor on Tuesday.
King Leo:
Tuesday! Ha! That is excellent news! Phillip, have the servants supply this messenger with much food and drink. And let him lay with any damsel that he desires, except my daugher, of course. [everyone laughs]
[Dalton opens a shell casing that was in the Bradley during testing]
Lt. Colonel James Burton:
Sand.
Sgt. Benjamn Dalton:
That's correct, sir.
Lt. Colonel James Burton:
Tell me, Sergeant. Has anyone around here ever mentioned the term "court martial" recently?
Sgt. Benjamn Dalton:
No, sir.
Lt. Colonel James Burton:
Really? That's truly amazing, Sergeant. Because here we are, watching water leak out of the gas tanks, and sand spill out of the ammunition, right before test to find out whether the damn thing is safe! And no one mentioned the word "court martial"? Why is that, Sergeant?
Sgt. Benjamn Dalton:
We were under orders, sir.
Lt. Colonel James Burton:
And do you believe that following those orders is conscionable, Sergeant?
Sgt. Benjamn Dalton:
It doesn't matter what I think or do, sir. One way or another, one of you weekend warriors from Washington will always make sure the tests come out the way you want them to.
Lt. Colonel James Burton:
I'm not here to manipulate test results, Sergeant. I'm here to learn the truth.
Sgt. Benjamn Dalton:
The truth? We get a new white knight here every six months, sir, and they all start out like you - big speeches that turn to shit until your next promotion comes due, and then it's business as usual.
Lt. Colonel James Burton:
Really? And where did you develop this lousy attitude, Sergeant?
Sgt. Benjamn Dalton:
Right here, sir. Watching guys like you.
Marty Preston:
But, Doc, you don't know what I've been through.
Doc Wallace:
You feel like the whole world's against you, huh? See that picture up there? That's Sam's parents. There's Eddie the father, Claira the mother, and that little ittie-bittie thing, that's Sam.
Marty Preston:
[Looking at the picture] I never seen a picture of them.
Doc Wallace:
Claira was... my princess.
Marty Preston:
[Turns back to Doc, listening carefully]
Doc Wallace:
We were babysitting Sam the... uh... night of the accident. And I'll never forget Social Services. [Takes off his glasses]
Doc Wallace:
Oh, yes, they jumped all over us. They said we were... that we were too old to raise a child. That we didn't have financial stability. [Puts glasses back on]
Doc Wallace:
Which I thought it was a joke cause I'd been practicing medicine for forty years.
Marty Preston:
But, you were able to keep her, weren't you?
Doc Wallace:
Yeah, after a hell of a fight. It was the love of Sam that gave us our strength. We would have sacraficed anything... to keep her. You see, sometimes, the greatests test of love... is how much you're willing to fight for it. You think about that. This dog... is gonna need a lot of love. Go get him. [Marty picks up Shiloh and turns to leave]
Doc Wallace:
Marty? [Marty turns back to face Doc]
Doc Wallace:
I love you. [Marty smiles then leaves with Shiloh. Doc watches Marty leave. He then looks up at the picture of Sam and her parents. He then shuts his eyes and puts one of his hands on his head in sadness]
