Time Addicts (2023)

Space, Time-travel, Futuristic, Aliens, Sci-Fi movie collection.

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Space, Time-travel, Futuristic, Aliens, Sci-Fi movie collection.
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Time Addicts (2023)

Post by bunniefuu »

- I didn't even feel

it land.

About a hundred and sixty

millimetre suspension travel.

20% sag.

- You're 20% sag.

- This one.

Someone's cut they don't have

the sort of suspension specs

required for modern urban

mobility.

- Yeah?

Well, you forgot one major spec.

- Oh yeah? What's that?

- That it's stolen.

You're a scumbag thief.

- Jealousy is but an ugly

shade on you, Denise.

Pack us a bowl then.

What? You smoked it all?

- Oh, yeah, it was all me.

- Well, we'll have to get

a re-up off Kane then.

- Well, isn't there anyone else?

- I'll just go. I'll be quick.

- What? By yourself?

Like, without me?

- What?

You can't last half an hour?

- It's just that it's a bit

weird, no?

Like, what am I supposed to do?

Hang out here? Like, alone?

- Whatever.

- Did you square

Kane up for the tic?

- I'm offended you even had to

ask that.

- Well, it's just that

he doesn't f*ck around.

Remember when he scalped

Hairline Hayden

for losing his bag of pingers?

- Ah, yeah.

- You didn't square him up, did

you?

- Well, no.

But I'm still offended

that you had to ask.

- Oh, f*cking hell!

- You just looked the snake

right in his dead, little eyes,

and you just said,

"Please, sir, can I

have some f*ckin' more?"

Then you thank thy starry

moon for thou crystal beans,

you beautiful little c**t.

And that's it.

- You here to

square me up, brother?

- Square you up for what?

Ah, yeah, that.

Yeah, for sure, lad.

Just need a coup...

Oh, here we go.

Does anyone else smell cargo

shorts?

Excuse me, sir.

This definitely

not-a-f*cking-cop

would love to buy some

of your finest dr*gs.

- Oh, f*ck off. I'm no copper.

- Oh.

- What are you after?

- Um...

A point would get me through,

aye?

Just put a girl on tic, would

ya?

- Why haven't you returned my

calls?

I f*ckin' missed you.

Hm?

- Get a life, Johnny.

You fuckwit.

- Thanks for keeping our

streets safe, Cunstable.

You f*ckin' mutt!

Maybe I could leave my new bike

with you,

like collateral and that, you

know?

- Nah, that's not gonna work

for me.

- Right.

Well, what are my options then?

Like fiscally, you know?

- How attached are you to

your two little thumbs there?

- Whoa, what? Just me?

What about her?

- What? Johnny!

You were the one that said

it was your f*ckin' shout.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah,

but I'm no good for it.

I mean, I'm never f*ckin' good

for it,

but I'm equally as f*ckin'

generous.

Hey mate, how's your weekend?

Yeah, f*ckin' good, wasn't it?

- Well, is there anything

we can do to like,

buy us more time?

- Funny you say that.

I got a job later today

that a couple of heads

just bailed on.

Could use some capable

hands like yourselves,

to assist with operations and

that.

- We'll do it.

- Well, hang on.

- What's the job?

- A heist, nearby. Real low key.

Meet me at the dumpling joint

in 20 and I'll fill you in.

- No, we're not gonna...

- And I'm holding you

personally responsible,

seeing as you're the one

pushing for more time.

- Makes sense.

- Mm.

- Well, we'll hear you out,

but we're not making any

promises.

- It's basically a promise.

So now that we're colleagues

and all,

could I get a little top up on

tic, bruh?

- Hurry up, goose!

- I mean, all I'm saying

is sure, put on a uniform,

at least make it obvious

that you're a f*ckin' scumbag

copper.

But to lie and deceive

the hard-working public,

I mean, that's a f*cking dog

act.

I mean, I just wonder what sort

of legacy

these undercovers are leaving,

you know?

Like, what that must do to a

family.

Cycles of abuse and all that

sh*t-

- Can we change the subject?

- Actually, there is a

subject I have in mind

to be broached.

- Broached isn't even a word.

And what are we supposed

to be? Thieves for hire?

- Ah, yeah.

And you're up on a very high

f*ckin' horse

for someone with light f*ckin'

fingers.

- Well, I'm not signing

up until I know who it is

that we're meant to be

appropriating.

- What does that matter?

- Ah, I don't know.

What if he's a lunatic?

What if he's holed up somewhere,

and he's jerking off to the

pictures

on the side of ciggy packets or

some sh*t?

- Are you f*ckin' all right?

- Time to go.

- We're not in yet.

We need to hear your pitch.

You know, official and that.

- It's easy.

Once you're inside,

you'll find a duffel bag.

You grab it, and bounce the

same way that you came in.

- What's in the bag?

- Does Gary from the Apple store

ask Fiona f*ckin' Apple

what's in the new iPhone?

No.

- And the mark. What's his deal?

- Time to go.

- Oh, f*ck this.

It sounds like amateur night.

I'm out.

- You owe me.

- You know what?

You can f*ckin' take my thumbs.

I don't even use 'em that much

anyway.

- You want to talk some sense

into your girl here, brother?

I take what's owed.

- Come on, man.

You know how much I love

playing FIFA.

What are you gonna do?

Just go home and hang out by

yourself?

- Yeah, I just might.

- Ah!

The guy is unhinged, all right.

It's all real horror show.

But none of that sh*t matters,

because you two dickheads

will be in and out

before he wakes up.

Debt paid.

- I want your bike.

Yeah, as payment.

- Fine, you f*ckin' thief.

And I don't want the attitude!

- Well, unfortunately it

comes with the f*ckin' bike.

- Yeah, we don't have time

for these little soap operas,

all right?

f*ckin' junkies.

Your reputation-

- Precedes me, yeah,

yeah, yeah.

- You'll go in through the

bathroom window

at the back of the house.

This is the only way in or out.

The rest of the house is

barred and boarded up.

Just get the bag, brother.

Or the debt doubles.

- Like toes, brah?

- Uh huh. Chop, chop.

And don't go thinking about

smoking

any of the shards that you find.

- Why?

Oh, yeah, I mean, of course not.

- Rumour is this one brother

smoked it,

and wasn't seen again.

Then his boys found a picture

of him

panning for gold in a textbook.

But I mean, probably bullshit,

right?

How past cooked is the kick-on

if you're breaking out the

textbooks?

- Yeah.

None of that sounds

interesting to me at all.

- Ah...

Bingo.

- Do you have to do that now?

What if this dumb c**t wakes up?

- Well, gotta stay prolific,

you know.

If a tree gets up in

the woods and all that.

Oy, new tag.

- "Pack"?

- Yeah, because I pack the pipe

so tight.

Oh, so you know Jazzo, yeah?

- Tall Jazzo?

- Yeah, so, he's a dog.

So him and Cakes were in China,

right?

And they go to the Great Wall.

I mean, as one does

when visiting the west.

And Jazzo's all like,

"This is the most famous wall

in the whole f*ckin' world.

I mean, it would be toy

to get up on this sh*t.

So, you know, he pulls

out a red spray can,

and just starts f*ckin'

getting up, because I mean,

say what you want about him,

but the c**t is f*ckin'

culturally sensitive.

- Are you f*cking serious?

We've gotta move. Hurry up!

- But then the People's

Litigation Army guys

started chasing 'em,

and they f*ckin' ran Cakes down.

But you know, Jazzo, he's

f*ckin' mad spritely.

I mean, he scaled down

a broken part of the wall into

Mongolia.

He hid out in yurts for a

f*ckin' month just eating goats

while Cakes rotted in

the gulags, or whatever.

f*ck, it's so windy.

Oy!

Ah, f*ck.

Ugh.

Oy, Dee!

f*cking calm down, all right?

f*ck!

- We're a long way from

the Macca's toilets.

- Yeah.

Feels like a lifetime ago.

- What sort of lukewarm

apricot yoghurt eating freak...

- Yeah, it's post-modern, aye.

- I don't know, man.

There must be like a thousand

other bags full of gear

in the city that are easier to

steal.

This all just feels a bit off.

f*ck it.

Give me a boost. Let's bail.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa, what?

You don't trust Kane?

- No, I don't trust the drug

dealer that scalps people,

and he's always looking at me

weird.

I don't like it.

- That's just how he looks, lad.

"Get the bag, brother.

Or the debt f*ckin' doubles,

yeah?"

Come on, it'll be like the

time we hit the donut place.

- And fittingly left with

nothing.

- This time we'll be leaving

with these dumb little c**ts,

yeah?

- This feels like fairytales

for c**ts.

Pretty sure these weren't here

before.

- Oh, probably just trapped

animals or something.

- Human sized blood covered

animals.

f*cking great.

Who sawed off what in here?

- I think we have some

more pressing issues

than the mystery blood.

- What?

We're f*cked!

I'm f*cked!

This is what I get for

babysitting.

You always do this.

- Oy, me? What did I

f*ckin' do?

- You f*ck

up! You always f*ck up!

That should be your name,

"Fuckup".

- How is this my f*ckin' fault,

huh?

- Because, Fuckup, you were the

one

that agreed to take the job.

- Just stop f*ckin' calling

me a f*ck up, all right?

- Yeah?

Well, the truth is, that

you're not only a f*ck up,

but also a dog.

- How f*ckin' dare you!

Only a real undercover dog

would call their best mate a

dog.

- Well, I know what you did.

I know your deep, dark secret.

- I know yours.

Hm? Hm?

f*ck this! f*ck it all!

f*ckin' do it yourself,

f*ckin' piece of sh*t.

Call me a f*ckin' dog?

Pack '95.

Textbooks.

What do they say again?

Regrets are like a dead

samurai's sheathed blade."

- No one says that, idiot.

- I thought I'd just do my due

diligence

and test the f*cking gear, yeah?

- Always a martyr.

- Well, I'm glad you can see my

position.

- You know, if we get outta

here,

I really just wish that you

would f*ck off

outta my life forever.

- I'm only in your

f*ckin' life as a favour.

I'm a lone f*ckin' wolf.

- What a joke!

You literally follow me around

every day.

- It's all very biblical, isn't

it?

You know, packing a pipe

and packing a punch.

f*ckin' society's coming at ya,

and I've got my f*ckin' mitts

up,

because that's the way it is,

isn't it?

It's a f*ckin' w*r on your

f*ckin' mind.

I mean, they're all just

f*ckin' dogs, aren't they?

Ruff, you know, ruff.

You know, f*ckin' bit of that.

f*ckin' slithery little f*ckin'

snakes.

- Johnny?

What the f*ck?

- Look, I'll pardon all the

f*ck ups

if you just come back right now!

Pardon f*ckin' revoked.

- And now you're finally here!

Oh, his favourite day of the

year.

Oh, I can tell you...

How this story ends...

It ends in blood.

- Johnny?

- Ah.

Ugh.

Ugh.

Ugh.

Yeah.

Pretty good sh*t.

- October 2nd.

Damo and Keithie drive

truck cross country.

October 13th, shipment

lands off the coast.

West Coast Syndicate ride

jet skis out to collect.

July 25th, Netsy closes deal in

Jakarta.

May 19th Netsy travels to

Bali for first meeting...

What?

- Jimmy.

- What?

- Don't say what.

- But I don't have any

homework.

- Bingo.

I met Malcolm Netson outside a

nightclub

on the 20th of July, 1993.

Now, if took me just

under three more months

to get any intro to the rest of

them.

Ratbags and cohorts.

Whatever you want to call them.

- 1995.

Lone motherfuckin' wolf.

- Now, it's all

hearsay.

Tampering, no.

f*ckin' no with the

tampering, Your Honour.

I wouldn't even know how!

Okay?

Now, no, Your Honour.

Yes, Your Honour.

Three bags f*ckin' full, Your

Honour.

- Oh, yes.

Always know a head

when I see one.

Who needs a f*ckin' sidekick

anyway?

Nice one, Johnny.

Another day, another f*ckin'

win, you f*ckin' hero.

f*ck yes.

Just a little f*ckin' kiss.

A f*ckin' cop.

I can't escape these c**ts.

I just attract dogs.

I'm a f*ckin' dog whistle.

Yeah, look at you.

Why don't you just suck a

f*ckin' dog's d*ck, you know?

Yeah, nice one, Johnny.

Just walking your f*ckin'

little poodle-y boys,

and here comes the f*ckin'-

- Well, well, well.

What do we have here?

Huh?

A sneaky little coke whore.

- I just-

- Just what?

Hm?

You one of the Reaper boys?

Did he send you to try

and finish me off, aye?

- I don't know of, um...

Any Reapers.

- Yeah, I believe you.

You don't f*ckin' have

that outlaw look, do ya?

- Whatever.

Look, I was just about

to bounce, all right?

So don't have a blowout, I

know you're a cop and all.

- An undercover cop.

- f*cking, of course.

No, but seriously, I mean,

I really respect you guys.

I mean, you're like real

essential fillers

to the community and all that

sh*t.

f*ck, you know. I can't f*ckin'

do it.

Nothing personal, but

you guys are a real bunch

of f*ckin' sneaky dog c**ts,

all right?

But I repeat, you know, like

nothing f*ckin' personal.

Yeah?

Oh, f*ck, please.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that I hate you,

it's just that we're

like natural adversaries

and that, you know?

Sick c**ts and f*ckin' pig dogs.

I mean, it's just the way

it's always f*ckin' been, man.

Maybe I hate myself a little

too.

- Can we maybe do this

without the g*n to my head?

- No, it's the f*ckin' g*n or

nothing.

- Always a martyr.

- What the f*ck?

- I guess I should like, give

you some advice or something.

But we don't have time.

- I don't understand.

- You're

just gonna have to trust me.

- What the f*ck is going on?

- I'm gonna get us out of this.

Just keep the door shut,

and make sure he's not coming.

- I can't believe that dog

c**t stitched me up like this.

I knew I shouldn't have listened

to that scumbag f*ck up.

Classic dog move.

Johnny always sh1tting the

carpet

and leaving me with a bag to

clean it up.

- Oy.

That's my best mate you're

talking about.

You're outta line, young lady.

You know, Johnny might be a

f*ck up,

but he was there when you

needed someone.

- Wait. What are you doing?

- Returning the favour.

- f*cking great.

- An amalgamation of

all of your life's decisions

have brought you here.

Brought you to him.

Your life is nothing

more than an equation.

Decisions over time,

finally producing a

quantifiable result.

- f*cking maths.

- And then you just stop

existing.

Tick f*cking tock.

Out of time.

You just...

Disappear.

- Disappear?

That bitch took my pipe!

- "D . Trapped in '95.

Pack."

If you can't do the time, then

don't do the f*cking crime.

Dumb-ass.

- I can't think of the

name.

- 2053.

- f*ck.

f*ckin' stuck here with an

undercover cop.

They're always trying to nab

all city f*ckin' legends like me

just for f*ckin' gettin' up.

Gettin' up.

That's it.

f*ckin' gettin' up.

- What are you doin'?

Hm? You sneakin' about?

- Oh, no. I was...

I was just admiring this

painting.

Is it a DiCaprio?

- I got a lot of pricks after

me,

and I thought someone had

broken in.

- Let's just go back to bed, eh?

- You trying to leave me?

- No.

I mean, unless you want me to.

- Everyone always tries to

leave.

- Oh...

That's not good.

- I saw some crazy sh*t

when I was undercover that last

time.

The group I was with,

they used to make young

women play Russian Roulette

with their hand in a blender.

I mean, just for a gram

of goey and a laugh.

And they was kinda like family

to me.

But I knew it had to end,

so I brought the whole

f*ckin' lot of them down.

You know, get them

before they could get me.

One step ahead.

- Well, I'm not going anywhere.

Like, ever.

- Good.

- Yeah.

f*ckin' hurry up, Denise.

- What was that?

- I was just saying, I

think it might be a Matisse.

- Grab the blender from the

kitchen

on your way back to bed, yeah?

- f*ck.

- He will be back soon.

I'm sure he'll be excited

you're here.

And on his favourite day

of the year, a day of love,

I wonder if he will steal your

heart.

- What the f*ck?

What the f*ck?

What year is it?

- 2053.

- How'd I get here?

- A temporal narcotic.

- Where can I find more of it?

Where's all the rest of it?

- When I need to find

something,

I think about where I last saw

it.

- I had it...

Back in the present.

I reckon I'll be off then.

You know, before he gets back.

- I wouldn't go outside

without respiratory and skin

protection.

- What?

- The current

temperature

is 51 degrees Celsius.

Radiation is over 100

millisieverts.

Riots continue, meaning chances

of a v*olence incited injury

are above 20%.

- You're 20% chance of a

v*olence incited injury.

- It's not safe for you

out there.

- What do you want with all

these b*tches?

And most importantly, what

do you want with this bitch?

How does all this time travel

sh*t work?

How how'd I get here?

- The drug deconstructs

you down,

and then rebuilds you back up

again

in the time you most recently

thought of.

Your consciousness and

subconsciousness

create a quantum tunnel

for you to travel through.

- Right, yeah.

Quantums and all that sh*t.

- Now I know you're the

one

I've been searching for.

It's finally time.

- Time for what?

- Sedate!

- Initiating

Carfentanil.

- Found you.

- ... you

were the one that agreed

to take the job.

- I thought it was only

polite to meet you back here,

after our little run-in

in the future and all.

I didn't even know you back

then.

- f*ckin' do it

yourself.

- Weird.

- f*ckin' piece of

sh*t.

- I usually don't tend

to f*ck with determinism,

but when the crystal brought

you to me,

to my time, to my home,

that was the day that you

freed me from my search.

So I traveled back and

put myself in a position

for you to be indebted to me.

Not the hardest part

of the plan, that bit.

- So you're here to k*ll me

then?

- Oh, I don't wanna k*ll you.

I want the opposite.

I want you to live.

Live here in this house,

forever.

- What?

Why?

- Because you're special.

- Wait.

What is that sh*t anyway?

- The crystal?

Just another psychotropic

street drug.

Rumour is, it has a foundation

of dimethyltryptamine,

engineered around 2050 in some

legal-ish

pharma-bro bio-tech lab

in Guatemala or some sh*t.

I knew this one brother

from my time manufacturing.

Shanked the c**t, rolled him of

his stash

before all the dogs came

through to shut it down.

- What made you so cooked?

What a joke...

you literally follow me around

every day.

- You just can't f*cking

help yourself, can you?

- Well, I mean, nothing

personal or anything.

But yeah, you are a few

nuggets short of a combo.

- That's Johnny, destined for

the past.

I might pay him a visit, cut

him open.

See what makes him tick.

My guess is just choccy

milk and barbiturates.

- Don't.

Just leave the goose there.

He's not hurting anyone.

- Isn't he?

Not for you to worry about, is

it?

Can't let your past dictate

your future and all that.

Time to go to work, c**t.

Someone's here.

And they got the duffel bag.

Ooh.

Now be a good boy and fetch it

for me.

- Fetch, boy.

- Johnny?

- What the f*ck is going on?

- Just keep the door shut.

And make sure he's not coming.

- Can't believe that dog c**t

stitched me up like this.

Johnny always sh1tting the

carpet

and leaving me with a bag to

clean it up.

- Oy.

That's my best mate you're

talking about.

You know, Johnny might be a

f*ck up,

but he was there when you

needed someone.

- Wait.

What are you doing?

- Returning the favour.

Johnny!

What the f*ck are you wearing?

- What am I wearing?

I've been living here for

f*ckin' months.

The bird who lives here

is some ex-undercover dog

c**t copper psychotic nut job

who consistently

threatens my f*ckin' life.

It's emasculatory.

And here you are worried about

what I'm f*ckin' wearing?

- Hold up!

I'm here to rescue you, aren't

I?

I don't get a thank you?

No, "I'm sorry for leaving you

in the creepy nightmare house

alone?"

I mean, what exactly is the

problem here?

- That's the f*ckin' problem.

- Who the f*ck is this dumb

slut, hm?

I got a f*ckin' word of

warning for you, yeah.

He is a top shelf f*ckin'

dropkick, but dead set,

he's my top shelf f*ckin'

dropkick.

- You're so young.

- What?

- So alive.

- Uh, what

are you going on about?

- She's my mum.

- Look, I don't know what kind

of f*ckin'

sick game you're playing here,

lady,

but you can't just f*ckin'

waltz into someone's home

and try and steal their f*ckin'

man.

Even if he is about as

useful as a kindergarten

in the f*ckin' Vatican.

Aren't ya? Aren't ya?

- Well, I mean, you know,

maybe she's not your mum.

You know, my mate Wayno thought

his mum was his grandmother.

Turns out like, she was just

mad old,

so his sister had to

breastfeed him and sh*t.

- She's my f*ckin' mum, all

right?

- Well, I mean, you don't

seem very f*ckin' happy

to see her now, do you?

- Yeah, well, it's not

my fault that she like,

started a fight with me,

and then, like, d*ed.

Is it?

- You know, if you'd just

come here in February

like I f*ckin' told you to,

we wouldn't have to deal with

all this f*ckin'

intergenerational

bullshit, would we?

- Well, your stupid message

didn't exactly go the distance.

Another successful Johnny

scheme.

Two severed thumbs up, genius.

- I went the distance with your

mum.

- Watch your f*ckin'

mouth.

- I'll f*ckin'

watch my mouth, all right?

- Wait.

If it's November '95, then

that thing in there...

Is me.

And that...

That makes you my dad.

- Hang on, what the

f*ck is happening here?

Huh?

- What's happening is that me,

and this literal mother fucker,

are walking outside this dump,

and going back to where we came

from,

and we'll never discuss this

sh*t again.

- Yeah, like f*ck you are.

This f*ckin' loser?

You f*ckin' come in here,

you f*ckin' knock me up,

and then get off scot-free?

I don't f*ckin' think so.

You f*ckin' owe me.

- Oh, you wanna weigh in here,

Dad?

- Well, I mean, I can't have a

daughter

who's a f*ck up like you.

I mean, it doesn't make any

sense.

You don't have any of my

spirited charm or ambition.

- Well, you know what, dickhead?

You can f*ckin' stay here then.

Yeah, I knew that I

shouldn't come back for you.

- f*ckin' hang on, f*ckin' hang

on.

Are you saying f*ckin'

February 14th, 2022?

You have been going on about

that date

ever since you got here.

So what, you're saying all

that...

All that f*ckin' rubbish

about...

Ah!

Are you saying that that is

f*ckin' true?

- You don't need to

worry about any of that.

You just need to stay here,

and pop that thing out,

and don't go f*ckin' anywhere.

Like you're grounded.

Yeah, you love groundings,

as I seem to remember.

- Hang on a second.

If this tuckies your mom,

then that means you've got cop

blood.

Oh, Denise.

No wonder you put me on the dog.

I cannot be involved with a cop

family.

I mean, I've got a reputation

to think of.

- And it's because of that

selfish f*ckin' attitude

that I grew up without a dad.

I should've known you'd be the

kind of loser absent father

who would go out for some

smokes,

and leave me and my mom

to fend for ourselves.

- What are you talking about?

I pretty much did raise you.

I mean, you've got no idea

the amount of brain space

I could like, free up,

if I wasn't storing knowledge

for you.

- I know your secret.

- Oh, yeah?

What f*ckin' secret?

- I know that that whole

Jazzo in Mongolia story is

bullshit.

And I know why you went around

telling everyone he's a dog.

The real story is that you got

picked up

graffing by an undercover,

and you snitched on Jazzo.

Just like the-

- Don't f*ckin' say it.

- Dog that you are.

- You want to talk about

secrets, Denise?

I mean, baggy jumpers only

work for so long, man.

We all know you popped out

Danny Handjob's kid last year.

I mean, it's in his f*ckin'

name, Denise.

You don't have to f*ck him.

What the f*ck!

f*ckin'...

- f*ck!

- You two wanna f*ck

around and play games?

f*ckin' be my guest, yeah.

I need a fresh bloody start,

and I'm f*ckin' sick of

looking over my shoulder,

and I am f*ckin' especially

sick of cohabitation with you,

you f*ckin' dickhead!

f*ckin' bingo.

Oh.

- No!

- What a scumbag thief, aye?

Like mother, like daughter, I

guess.

Cup of tea?

- We need to get her back.

Think.

- We live here now.

Best not to go on about it too

much.

- But if she gives birth

to me in a different time,

then who is giving birth to me

now?

I'll cease to exist.

- I can't help but feel partly

to blame.

- Well, we can't worry about

that now.

We need to get her

back, before she like...

Births me.

- But when is she?

- I know when.

I heard her scream.

- What's happening,

losers?

- Oh, you know, not much,

just been banging Denise's mom.

- Ha, just the usual then.

Denise?

You got something that's mine?

Where's my gear?

Oh.

Don't go all idiot on me again,

Johnny.

I mean, I know that's

really asking something.

- Well, it's just that...

You know, I've got a

family to support now,

so the way I see it is,

finders f*ckin' keepers, aye?

- You don't have to do this,

Johnny.

- Yeah, I probably should

though.

- It's a bit late for the

whole Mr. Responsibility act.

I mean, you did ruin my f*ckin'

life.

- I barely know you, bro.

- Grow up, fuckhead.

- Leave him alone!

- I didn't think...

You had that in you, brother.

- I guess we should

like, k*ll him or something?

- All right, let's f*cking do

this.

- Don't do it.

Drop the Kn*fe.

- Don't listen to her, Johnny.

She's tried to screw me over

before.

- Now slowly go over and

check Kane for more vials.

Take one, give the rest to me.

And you stay where you f*ckin'

are.

And give that one to her.

- What the f*ck is

going on?

- I wish I could tell you,

but you're not ready for

what needs to be done.

- Well you're not much

f*ckin' help, are ya?

- Well, if you expect better

from me,

then change better, bitch!

It's time for you to go get our

mum.

- What about Johnny?

- He's not coming with you.

- Didn't anyone ever teach you

that it's rude to f*ckin' stare?

- Oh, it's coming!

- You're hitting this god damn

bowl

and going back to where you

came from.

- No, I'm not! I won't go back!

- f*cking hell, Mum!

You're stubborn as bloody

Johnny!

- I can't go back!

- Why?

- Because it's not a real life!

Johnny's gonna f*ckin' leave me!

I am paranoid them Reapers

are gonna come knocking

every f*ckin' day.

And I didn't even want a kid,

but now that I don't have a

choice,

I want it to have a life that

it doesn't just waste away!

I mean, my baby could grow up

here, right?

f*ckin', it's sh*t, it is sh*t,

but it's f*ckin' all right.

- This place is a f*cking

sh*thole.

The whole world in this

time is a f*cking sh*thole.

- Yeah, but it's a

sh*thole where I'm free.

'Cause I can't f*ckin' take it

anymore.

- I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, all right?

I'm sorry for all the years of

hell

that I'm gonna put you through.

And I'm really sorry

about your boyfriend Flaco

that I like, banged this one

time.

- Flaco's a f*cking sh*t name!

- And I'm mostly sorry

for my part that I play

in the fight that we have.

But if you don't smoke this and

go back,

then she'll never get the

chance to try and be better.

Do the right thing by the kid,

you reckon?

Okay.

- Just be patient with her.

She can be kind of useless at

times.

- Yeah, well, she probably

gets that from her father,

because he's a f*cking dickhead!

I mean, what kind of idiot is

watching

Saturday morning f*ckin'

cartoons!

- Kane?

- I was...

- You were the one in here

holding the bag for younger Kane

this whole time.

- We all owe our past

just one more chance.

That crazy bitch sh*t me.

She always did have a

proclivity to overreact.

- Proclivity's not a...

You knew her?

- And you, briefly, when you

were little.

Nothing but regrets, this stuff.

- Sounds like a bit of a

one-way street with your past.

Can't all just be favours, can

it?

I mean, when does it end?

- Everything ends, love.

Tick f*cking tock.

- You once said that

you shouldn't let our past

control our future.

- Maybe once upon a time I had

a point.

My life would be so much easier

if you just didn't exist.

- Wait.

Why'd you say that?

This feels like fairytales for

c**ts.

- No more regrets.

Tick f*cking tock.

f*cking hell!

f*cking hell!

Just hook a girl up with

one shard, f*cking hell!

Stupid thing!

I think it's time to start

having

some hard talks with yourself,

Denise.

For starters, I'm thinking

you might have a drug problem.

- Didn't know you

had that in you, brother.

- I guess we

should we like,

k*ll him or something?

- All right, let's

f*cking do this!

- Don't do it!

Drop the Kn*fe.

Now slowly go over and

check Kane for more vials.

And you stay where you f*ckin'

are.

- What

the f*ck is going on?

- Well if you expect better

from me,

then change better, bitch.

Now it's time for you to go get

our mum.

- What about

Johnny?

- He's not coming with you.

- Didn't

anyone ever teach you

that it's rude to f*cking stare?

- So you're like my kid,

and you've been looking for me.

That's what all those photos

of the other women were.

People you thought might've

been your mum?

Well, if I give you one of

these, will you let us go?

Will you let Johnny live?

- Time could end and I'd

keep hunting that prick down.

- I don't need a f*ckin'

sympathy pardon.

I don't see what the problem is.

Just sh**t the c**t, right

in the f*ckin' temple!

- I can't do that.

- Why not?

He literally just said

he's gonna hunt me down.

- Here, I'll f*ckin' do it.

- I know he's not making

a great case for himself,

but it's not his fault, you

know?

Me leaving you.

- No, it f*cking was.

- You know, back when I was a

teenager,

I always used to rack the

nangs from the kitchen

to get high.

- Yeah, f*ckin' sick.

- Yeah.

They're like the little nitrous

canisters

that you chuck in the whipped

cream.

- Yeah, I know what f*ckin'

nangs are.

- Yeah.

My mom used to put whipped cream

on her low expresso martinis,

and one day she really lost it.

She came storming into

my room screaming at me

for stealing all the nangs.

Now...

I was fairly cooked,

so I might have laughed a

little too hard.

- Is there a point to all of

this?

- Yeah.

She said...

"My life would be so much

easier if you didn't exist."

And then she left.

You know, but I wasn't the

one that stopped existing.

She was.

Some old g*ng member she put

away,

saw her at the shops, k*lled

her.

Buying more nangs k*lled her.

I k*lled her.

Your life was better with

me not existing in it.

- How do you know?

You didn't even try.

But you can try now, you have

to.

- If you want a mom, then why

the f*ck

are you trying to lock me up?

- Because we will finally be a

family.

- That's now how family works,

dickhead.

I mean, how's the emotional

intelligence on this c**t, D?

- f*cking shut up, Johnny!

He's right.

That's not a family.

- Yeah, well, I wouldn't

f*cking know, would I?

You gave me away to spend your

life

f*cking around with this dumb

junkie c**t.

And that decision left me with

nothing.

With no one.

You left me on the steps of a

church

with just a teddy bear

like it was a f*cking Christmas

movie.

Now, make it right and sh**t

this mutt!

- Wait, Denise, come on, lad.

You're really not gonna

choose him over me, yeah?

You've gotta get outta here.

Go someplace I don't know where

you are.

This is goodbye, Johnny.

- No, f*ck that, I'm not going.

- When you found me crying

on the floor of the Macca's

toilets,

you took me under your wing.

You saved me.

Now let me save you.

- You could've saved me

by capping that deadshit.

- Mum.

I'm sorry.

I just...

I looked for you for so long.

And the more I looked,

the more Valentine's Days I was

alone.

The old man version of

me rambled on so much

it was hard to decipher what

was real

and what was just rubbish.

But he told me that you left me

here

with no crystal for 30 plus

f*ckin' years.

I didn't believe him.

I couldn't believe that you

would do that.

But he insisted.

- No.

f*ck that.

Only if I get to go home, yeah?

- You owe me!

If you won't open this door...

Then how about I go into

that other room there

and put a b*llet in your mum's

head?

- Fine, I'll tell you the truth.

I don't want you in my life.

I meant it when I said that

you were a f*ck up and a dog.

That's why I think it's

best that you just f*ck off.

Go on, get!

- f*ckin' bullshit.

- No one wants a f*cking

snitch like you in their life.

- The graff scene is all

just toys there now, anyway.

You can forget about having

my f*ckin' bike, yeah?

- No!

I just wanted to make things

right.

- Don't do it.

Don't f*ckin' run away again.

- I'm not.

- Can't think of a name.

- Denise, sounds appropriately

annoying.

- Hey...

How are you with coffee based

cocktails?

'Cause I could really,

I could use a drink.

I mean, if you could sort that

out,

I could stitch up that

little gut scratch you got.

- I'll make myself at home.

- Gonna have to f*ckin' move

house again.

- I meant it when I

said

that I'm not running anymore.

- You'll stay here? With me?

- Um...

Well, ideally, no.

But I did have an idea to

broach.

Where can I take you to get you

fixed up?

- Not where, when.

- I'm taking the

chance that you've grown a bit.

- A few decades

will do that to you.

- Oh, probably just

trapped animals or something.

- What about your past self?

- Human sized

blood covered animals.

f*cking great.

- Maybe she's got some

growing up to do too.

- No one ever tell you that

it's rude to f*cking stare?

- "Get the bag, brother."

- "Dearest Denise.

I'm not going to lie.

It's taken me a minute to write

this.

I won't tell you where I am,

but after I arrived here,

I was confronted by the

family that owned the house.

Thankfully, the patriarch

was a veterinarian

and was able to yank the slug

from my gut.

Real G sh*t.

Things are pretty cool here.

I ended up wifing the old man's

daughter,

so I inherited the joint.

I'm like a clerk or

something, I don't know.

c**ts can barely even

write, so I'm like a genius.

Well, considered around

average, at least.

Pretty heavy that Kane's your

kid.

Still can't believe you

f*cked Danny Handjobs though.

Classic.

I hope things worked out with

Kane.

He needs all the help he can get

after I defeated him in combat

so badly.

On that note, I'm leaving the

deeds to the house and land

in a trust for him when he

comes of age.

I feel like I owe the

young fella for the tic,

and I thought this is

what you would've wanted.

My lawyer seems to think

this kind of practise

is highly unorthodox,

given that Kane won't be born

for another 130 plus years.

I told him, "I don't

need the sermon, brother.

Just work out the particulars,

c**t."

He's got those f*ck off

mutton chop sideburns.

Anyways, f*ck him and what he

thinks.

Lawyers are all dogs anyways.

Not as bad as undercover

cops and parking inspectors,

but still.

Anyways, here's where I

broach the serious stuff.

I understand now why you sent

me away.

It took me a while to

figure out what you meant

by making things right.

What I'm trying to say is,

this is my way of trying to

make things right with us.

Since I've been here,

I've had these dreams.

You know, those kinda dreams

you have

when you first get clean.

Real f*ckin' vivid, but all

over the shop.

Like, lizards in top hats kinda

sh*t.

Anyways, in this one dream, we

were both these lone wolves,

but like, not alone, because

there were two of us,

like a group of wolves.

There should be a word to

describe that or something.

Anyways, I realised,

it doesn't matter that we're

not hanging out anymore.

Because time or no time,

I'm like, a part of you.

I mean, think about it.

You come from my balls, man.

This is the kind of

philosophical sh*t

I have time to sit around

and think about now.

We're definitely a long way

from the Macca's toilets.

Keep it real, lad.

One love.

Pack."
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