Greed, deceit, addiction.
These are all pasttimes
of every nation now.
And he's everywhere.
So you sully yourself
with his presence.
A pestilence.
A corrupter.
If I leave them
to him, they die.
If I pretend I don't
care, they die.
If I quit on them, they die.
So I don't have a choice, do I?
There is always choice.
And when there's
choice, there's hope.
Justice, just do your part.
So how do I look?
Seriously?
Did the word originality
even cross your mind?
Because, ladies and
gentlemen of humanity,
I present to you Virtue, in
the incredibly predictable
form of an old white man.
You know what I wonder?
If you were going to go
all-white male patriarchy,
why not pick the
youthful silver fox,
like Pierce Brosnan, or Anderson
Cooper, George Clooney, even?
You know who I think
still looks good?
Patrick Dempsey.
Why are you Black, Vice?
You like it, huh?
I saw him in a commercial.
Let me
repeat the question
with a little bit more volume,
why are you Black, Vice?
What's wrong with being Black?
Nothing wrong with
being Black, for humans
that are actually black.
Exactly.
Being Black is in right now.
So this is
a fashion statement?
Have you paid
attention to anything?
Well, I'm down here
a lot more than you.
And, again, what you've got
going on is not exactly woke.
I mean, you should be a Native
American nonbinary tr*nsv*stite
in a wheelchair with autism.
OK, no, I'm not really Black.
And no, you're not
really white or
anything remotely close to fun.
But yes, when we're down
here, we have to be something.
So why not look good?
I joined a vegetarian
meetup group, by the way.
Oh, no way.
And?
Well, once one gets
used to the occasional animal
rights activist speech.
And it's
in Santa Monica.
Yeah, it's
in Santa Monica.
And there were no less
than three white Pomeranians in
attendance at the last meeting.
Oh, man.
But the
recipes are excellent.
They're that good?
Bro, they are the best.
There's this risotto thing.
It's fantastic, turmeric,
paprika, and loads of garlic.
But I think it's a steam
process that makes it so good.
I'm going to make it for you.
Normally, I'd-- I'd
introduce myself and say,
pleased to meet you, but times
aren't exactly normal, are they?
My name's Darla.
Please tell me you're
not going to try
and play the strong, silent
type through all this.
I'm not here to make friends.
Not the sharpest
crayon in the box.
Excuse me?
Well, I'm
assuming you came in here
like me, with a bag over your
head and a ball in your mouth,
correct?
Exactly.
So our vegetarian
escorts took the time
to remove our
hoods and our gags,
bind us to these
chairs in such a way
that we're facing one another.
So call me crazy,
but I'm thinking us
doing a little meet and greet.
Isn't intended part
of the program.
You follow me?
I'm not a child.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I thought you were
slow, not rude.
You're not the least
bit curious about me?
Mine might be the very
last face you ever see.
Party time.
Sucks for you, buddy.
You want this one fast or slow?
Make it quick.
He's going to
spew like Old Faithful
if you do him like that.
There's special
molding around the hilt.
Until I pull it out,
it'll just trickle.
Actually, make it slow,
but keep him gagged.
All the screaming, and
yelling, and-- no, no, no.
I'm not in the mood.
Whatever you say, boss?
What do you want, Vice?
I'm glad you asked.
For starters, I want those
stupid, weepy 12-step meetings
to stop ruining my hard work.
I mean, years of investment
down the toilet because
of some silly little saying.
Grant me the serenity to accept
the things I cannot change.
Ooh, ooh
They didn't want to change
those lines of coke they
did before going on stage in
front of a sold-out arena,
did they?
They didn't want serenity then!
And
all the ecstasy racing
through the brains of their
fans so their artistic genius
can be properly experienced?
Who do they think put it there?
The music, the lighting,
the fashion, ooh, the fears,
inspired fashion.
Do they
think any of that sh*t
happens without me?
Any of it.
What do I want?
What does Vice want?
How about some
well-deserved respect?
How about someone standing up
and saying, thank god for Vice?
Because everything I
own and everything I am
is because of him!
That's what the hell I want!
Oh, you mean what
do I want from you?
So you were saying succinctly,
if you're capable of that.
You know, I'd forgiven
you for Tookie Williams.
It's a good one.
But he was mine first.
And before that, I'd forgiven
you for Vladimir the Great.
He was great.
Until you turned
him into a saint.
A saint!
One of my best pillagers.
But I got over that.
But the chef, too far.
Oh, come on.
He wasn't even using.
No, he was selling.
And he would have sold a lot.
He would have had it
snowing all over LA.
But you came along,
and now he's winning
Vegas Chef of the Year awards.
The f*ck?
You win some.
You lose some.
I want him back.
You want crack?
You leave this place,
and I promise you,
those two in the next
room are going to have
a very unfortunate evening.
But if you stay, I
have a wager for you.
A bet?
Me?
Virtue?
They go your way, you
get them, you keep the chef.
And they go my way, you don't.
And then we just watch
the snowflakes fall.
And I know the concept of
fairness is a little bit beyond
your tiny, little, pea-sized
Vice brain, but that's the worst
proposition I have ever heard.
You're telling me that if I
win, I keep what I already have.
We can throw in some
old opiate addict.
And back off on
the opiate in general.
Are you joking?
You need to sweeten this deal.
You're going to lose.
I might take that as a yes.
So who are the two
in the next room?
Two capable,
attractive, intelligent
women living under the yoke
of a sexist American society.
So you know the Black one
has been doubly oppressed.
Vice, why did you kidnap them?
I didn't.
Razor Rollins did.
It's complicated.
So I'm a crook, right?
Well, pretending to be a crook.
But there's this other crook,
a real crook, Razor Rollins,
who thinks he's my competition.
But really, he's
just one of mine.
A gambler.
I could have him
k*lled anytime I want,
but it's way more fun
to keep him around.
Vice.
He acts like a model citizen.
He plays chess
with his neighbor,
takes his mom to
lunch once a week,
even donates to Little League.
A career criminal.
I impersonated him once,
even though he's packing
light in the meat department.
It's very unfortunate.
Vice.
What?
Why did you kidnap them?
Succinctly.
I didn't.
Razor Little d*ck
kidnapped them.
I just hijacked his job to
set up our little wager.
Simple, right?
You know,
you could have done
this whole thing by yourself,
as in, I didn't need to be here.
No, you didn't.
But I'll be completely
transparent with you.
It'd be a lot more fun to
see your face when I win.
But it won't take long.
By morning, tops.
Know the difference
between you and me?
I'm smart and sexy.
Regardless that
you're even more
powerful than you've ever been.
Regardless that you
may accidentally
k*ll every one of these humans
in this building tonight.
Regardless that every
second I spend in
your presence is a
torturous waste of time.
The difference between
you and me, I still care.
And if it means saving
even one life from you,
it's worth everything.
So we have a deal.
My mama used to say that you
can't judge a book by its cover,
but you can usually tell where
it belongs in the library.
By the looks of you, I'd
say you think you belong
on one of the higher shelves.
Where were you headed
when they snatched you up?
No place that required
a lot of walking.
Not from those designer shoes.
Hell, your footwear probably
costs more than my car note.
And I ain't ashamed to say it.
Nothing I own is
custom tailored.
Not like that jacket.
Does dressing like that make
those businessmen you work
with take you more seriously?
Probably not.
I mean, don't get me wrong.
I'm not like that
cannibal shrink,
who can tell your
whole family life
history just by looking at you.
But I do know a thing
or two about a man
not taking a woman seriously.
And I ain't even an
African-American woman.
I'm just a dumb blonde.
So you got one on me.
Clearly, you know how
to bite your tongue.
Probably served you well on your
way up the corporate ladder.
If I'd have learned
that skill, I
probably wouldn't have
gotten slapped in the mouth
so many times.
But like I said,
most of what I say
isn't taken all that
seriously anyway.
Kind of like now.
You like music?
I just started taking
singing lessons.
La, la, la, la, la, la, la.
What the f*ck is your problem?
Besides you taking
moments of quiet reflection,
as if one of us isn't going to
come out of here feet first?
Besides that?
I get it.
Normally, you're not
Ms. Congeniality,
Ms. warm and fuzzy, or even Ms.,
sometimes, I pretend to care.
But things stop being
normal when either one of us
heard the name Razor Rollins.
What do you want from me?
Just tell me your name.
It doesn't even have
to be your real name.
Olivia.
Olivia.
Pleased to meet you.
And I've been meaning to
get my rotator cuff looked at.
Getting to be
about that age, mate.
Can't be the
ubermensch forever.
Don't start with that
Nietzschean foolishness again.
Morality
and religion were
invented to thwart the
natural rule of the Superman?
That's total bollocks,
and you know it.
Where do you
find these people?
Aren't they awesome?
There's actually one
more element en route.
He's my muscle on this
job, Marcello Compass.
He's a good guy.
You'd like him.
If it wasn't for the bottle,
he'd probably be one of yours.
And his d*ck?
Big enough to have
his own zip code.
It's big.
Excuse me?
Don't you know everything
about your people?
Privacy.
Damn that.
If my online poker
addict in Croatia
gets a pimple on his left a*s
cheek, I want to know about it.
Come here, Marcello.
Give me the money.
You got your piece on you?
Good.
Jim Beam?
A little nip before
work never hurt anybody.
Be firm.
They won't know it's
your first time.
They're in the main room.
I want you to use this
to decide who goes first.
Ow.
Ow.
Ow.
Heads or tails?
Tails.
Oh.
Mary, full of grace.
She wins the toss.
So you first.
In your own time.
It's not the way it looks.
Can I count the violations?
It's not the way it looks.
OK.
OK.
I was keeping this safe.
I had a feeling I
wasn't going to get
an RSVP request of this
kind of thing, you know.
So if that little piggy
in there is for me,
I need you to drop
this in the mail.
It's already stamped.
OK?
It's not drugs
or anything, is it?
What?
I'm being careful.
Careful?
The kind of careful that got
you playing Russian Roulette
at gunpoint for the mob?
I don't know you.
You could be a drug addict.
You see any track
marks on my arms?
There are plenty of drugs
that do not require injection.
Don't you
sound knowledgeable.
That's none of your business.
Isn't it just a trifle
ironic that you're
the one who's taking a spin
or two in the drug mobile?
And yet you have
the nerve to ask
me if my dying wish is to make
you some kind of a crack mule.
I didn't mean it like that.
Oh, you didn't?
Then how exactly
did you mean it?
Ladies.
Can we proceed?
Proceed?
You prefer one of
us to blow half
our head off now and not later?
I mean, what, you got a
hot date or something?
Yeah, because that's
great date conversation.
Hey, baby, I just watched
a couple of hot chicks
play Russian Roulette.
You want to let me pork you now?
Jesus Christ.
You see this?
This means respect me.
You understand?
I understand that
I also got a g*n.
And I further understand
that you don't respect us,
even though for one of us,
it is our last night here
on planet Earth.
But you want us to proceed.
Fine!
Round one concluded,
and neither of us is dead.
You happy?
This your first time
doing something like this?
You didn't have to bring my
sex life into it, that's all.
Oh.
You know what?
Pretend I'm not even here.
You don't have
to rush it, hon.
About the letter?
I'll mail it.
Thank you.
Do you have a--
A letter?
No, I set up an email
to send late in the day.
If I don't delete it in
24 hours, it goes out.
Smart.
Not really.
I just didn't think I could
trust anybody enough to mail it.
I wonder what my shrink thinks.
I need to open up more.
You?
Open up?
People can be so cruel.
Selfish.
Step on you for
a slice of bread.
Or a 2% raise.
Trust that?
No, thank you.
Round three.
Is it getting hot in here?
I thought it was just me.
What about you, Muscles?
OK, maybe I've been less
than trustworthy in the past.
Whatever.
Speak.
I took the gunpowder
out of the b*llet.
It won't fire.
None of them know.
Look, when they are
alive, it is way easier
to use them to prove that I have
more power and impact than you.
They can die after that.
Yeah, how did you
fail to see the point?
Even you.
What point?
That it's better to have Rollins
have one of them k*ll herself?
The point, that things should
take their natural course.
The same point Balance will
make before she crucifies you.
Before she crucifies you.
Oh, dig your nuts out
of your stomach, Virtue.
She's not going to find out.
I'm just
going to say it.
No one does anything truly
wrong given their point
of view of the world.
You can't possibly
believe that.
It's true.
And everyone feels justified
for what they do, thus making it
right from their point of view.
Everyone?
Including this as*h*le?
Absolutely.
All right, then.
Why don't we
bloody well ask him?
Put your little
theory to the test.
Oh, no, we're past the
point of decision-making.
Now, mate, let's not
back out on a technicality.
All right.
Hello, chum.
Hi.
So do you think you were
wrong for what you did?
Or, or, do you think
you were justified?
Yes, of
course I was wrong.
I'm so sorry.
Please.
Please.
Please.
No, no, no, no, no,
that's forced attrition.
Rubbish.
You need to read
more Plato, mate.
Plato?
Plato was a wrestler
who hung around
with a group of celibate
Pythagoreans, who were
afraid of beans, I might add.
Beans, man.
It was a metaphor.
I know you've been wondering
because I've been wondering too.
But both your
therapist and myself
are well aware that
volunteering information
isn't one of your strong suits.
You mean, how'd I end up here?
Yeah.
You know what I just realized?
One of is going to die.
What are secrets to the dead?
At first, it was all
Wolf of Wall Street.
So much money flowing.
And we rode it
like summer waves.
None more than me.
I made those white boys bow down
and respect me every quarter.
That much money that fast
isn't always legal, insider tip
here, ill*gal trade there.
But you pay the right people
off and you just keep it moving.
Party and celebrate.
And party and celebrate.
I mean, take drugs
and get prostit*tes.
And then take more drugs
and get more prostit*tes.
Her name was Carmen.
There was just
something in her eyes.
So I paid the extra,
took her home.
Next morning, when the
drugs started wearing off,
I looked down at her,
naked and vulnerable
in my Egyptian cotton sheets.
I saw me.
In the back of that
dusty, grimy pickup truck
they'd driven to
the edge of town.
So no one could hear me scream.
Not that anyone
would have cared.
Saw her innocence falling away.
And I was taking it.
Turns out Carmen was underaged.
They all were.
It did something to me.
I wanted out.
But Razor Rollins kept
meticulous records,
who had been with which underage
prost*tute, how many times.
It turns out our firm
was laundering his money,
so he knew about all the insider
tips, the ill*gal trades.
So it's either keep the money
flowing or he'd destroy us all.
He gave me one chance.
This.
I live.
I walk.
Either way, tonight, I'm out.
It's done.
I never told anyone
about Carmen.
It's that kind of night.
My sister's children.
To cut a very long and
depressing story short,
my sister got involved with
a two-bit stage performer.
He got her hooked on meth.
And she got into trouble
with Razor Rollins.
And that, that evil b*stard,
he threatened her children.
So here I am, paying her
debt to save their lives.
Why isn't your sister here?
One, she doesn't
know I'm here.
And two, no child should
grow up without their mama.
We learned about
the birth defect.
Second trimester.
But when he was born, it was
far worse than we anticipated.
His intestines were on
the outside of his body.
And the large and the small
intestine were connected.
Theo had his first surgery
when he was one week old.
And then for the
next six weeks, we
waited until he would
be strong enough
to have the connection
surgery to connect the large
to the small intestine.
Every day there was this--
there was this sound.
Beep, beep, beep.
And you never knew what
it-- what it meant.
It was scary.
It was so f*cking scary.
Is there something
wrong with my baby?
Is he going to make it?
And in seven weeks,
they said, OK.
He's strong enough.
That little, tiny, tiny
baby under five pounds.
And he went into that operation.
And didn't make it.
He didn't make it.
A tiny, little baby.
I want him back.
I want Theo back.
I want him back!
My whole world just
went dark, dark, dark.
And that's when my sister,
she looked me in the eye.
And she said to me--
Darla Mae Lewis, you listen
to me, and you listen good.
My baby nephew may be gone.
God rest his soul.
My little sister is still here.
As long as I live and breathe,
it's going to stay that way.
Bit by tiny, tiny bit, my
world got a little bit grayer.
She different now that
the drugs got to her.
But the truth is,
I owe her my life.
And if tonight is
my night to leave
this planet Earth, to
clean up, the girls
will get their mama back.
And I'm coming to see you.
I'm coming to see you, Theo.
Mama be there.
I'll be there.
Not yet.
You want to tell me
what you did with them?
Sure.
You were saying?
Hmm?
Telling you, it'll
all make sense.
Sense and you are
mutually exclusive.
Well, granted, I'm
not the high and mighty
paragon of virtue.
But how often do I outright lie?
Well, you did
say that you had--
Besides that.
OK, well, according
to you, there was--
That was an
extenuating circumstance.
You always claimed
that there was--
OK, OK, maybe, maybe I've been
less than completely honest.
Sometimes.
Maybe?
But I'm not lying about
this particular thing.
It will make sense.
Besides, when have
I ever directly
lied about telling the truth?
Your explanations, Vice.
Hmm?
The gas.
Right.
An experimental chemical agent
engineered for interrogation,
slightly hallucinogenic.
No long-term effects.
I think.
Mind control gas.
It encourages behavior,
not dictated, man.
I mean, personally, I am banking
on an aphrodisiacal effect.
I like saying that.
Aphrodisiacal effect.
Sounds groovy.
You've been practicing
saying that, haven't you?
Just watch.
Corporate bad
girl gone straight.
Wouldn't have pegged
you for the type.
Any white collar vice you've
seen, we probably done it.
How about snorting cocaine
off a woman's cleavage?
I saw that in a movie once.
Several times.
It's usually n*pples, though.
Cocaine off n*pples?
Am I blushing?
You are.
Where'd this happen?
Christmas party
after party orgy.
Christmas party wasn't enough.
So we had an after party.
After party wasn't enough.
So we started an orgy.
That is one way to
celebrate the birth of Jesus.
Amen and hallelujah.
Just when the
orgy was starting,
Jack Wadesten and
one of the clerks
started getting creative with
their cocaine consumption.
They got a girl from
accounting, got her top off,
put a little powder
on each nipple,
clinked noses like it
was champagne glasses,
and snorted it all off.
Titty bumps.
Well, that's what
we called them.
When you're helping
the stagehands
strike the set after a six-week
run, you do what you can.
You're an actor?
It's LA.
What have I seen you in?
Shakespeare, dozen plays.
Shakespeare?
What was it like?
It was so much fun.
I got colorblind casting, so I
got to play all kinds of people.
Perform something for us.
This wide and
universal theater
presents more woeful
pageants than the scene
wherein we play in.
All the world's a stage, and the
men and women merely players.
They have their exits
and their entrances.
And one man in his
time plays many parts.
Ugh, proud of yourself?
Don't hate
the player, baby.
Hate the game.
So how do you go
from doing Shakespeare
to being a thug for the mob?
I mean, you
come back from Afghanistan
after k*lling kid soldiers,
you're a different guy.
Basically, I pissed
off everybody I loved.
I mean, I-- I sabotaged
my whole life.
And I'm working on the drinking.
I really am.
My dad's a judge now, and
he's just so ashamed of me.
I-- I think that chapter
might be closed for good.
Oh, what was that?
I don't know.
Should we check it out?
Yeah, I know.
A direct intervention
wasn't my best idea.
What's rule number two, Vice?
Something about
exerting something.
The exertion
of physical power
is a form of direct
intervention,
which is strictly prohibited.
Yeah.
They have to be
able to choose, Vice.
With me, choice
is a little gray.
I mean, look at my addicts.
Hell, look at Marcello.
I mean, he'd give anything
to be with his family,
but the monkey on his
back has other plans.
So he's here with me.
You can't directly
steamroll over their wills.
I do it indirectly
every day of the week.
One direct intervention
is no big deal.
And it's better than subjecting
them to immediate influence.
But even that, it's still
them choosing, sort of.
Keep thinking that.
Danielle.
Out cold.
What are you doing
here, sweet sister?
I was wondering
the same thing.
The unlikely
entrance of this new player
into our scene raises concerns
most grave and disconcerting.
Hear, hear.
Shall we examine
the implications?
Darla and-- what's your name?
Marcello.
Darla and Marcello, we are
officially called to order.
The first and only
order of business
is the examination,
deliberation,
and conclusion regarding
the entrance of Danielle.
Her being here is bad
any way you look at it.
She probably came
to stop the game.
How did she even know about
the game, much less get here?
And how did she get in?
I don't get it.
Me either.
Why don't we ask her?
She's asleep.
Can't we wake her up?
This should do it.
Where'd you get that?
From a couple of buddies
k*lling a guy next door.
Guy next door.
Guy next door.
Danielle.
Danielle, what are
you doing here?
Hush it, girl.
All right.
This Russian roulette party
is now officially over.
You, f*ck muscle man,
hands behind your back.
You got rope?
I got some zip ties.
You, zip them up.
Well, I can't make
snow angels like this.
Hon, you could hurt
someone with that.
I don't know what
they've done to you,
but we're getting
you out of here.
You're high.
It was my last hit.
What was that?
What was that?
What was what?
No, no, no, no, no,
no, no, no, no, no, no.
Who's laughing at me?
Make them stop laughing.
I said, shut up!
Shut up.
Just breathe.
Just breathe deep.
Nice full breaths.
My my, my, what a mess.
What was that?
And what are you
going to do about it?
No, no, no,
no, no, that's not true.
She's going to k*ll me.
Well, after 15 violations,
can you blame her?
Thank you.
Are you going
to leave them that way?
I just froze them,
not the whole moment.
Maybe it'll slip
under her radar.
What were you thinking?
Seriously, I-- I'd like to know.
Are you collecting them now?
I'm already down 15.
What's a few more?
She was supposed to say
unconscious long enough
for the gas to work correctly.
And he was supposed
to stay captivated
by the attractive women
flirting with each other.
And they were
supposed to hook up.
I had it all planned out.
Seriously?
Damn, you're hot.
So are you.
Let's hook up.
Let's.
I can't stop watching.
You
shouldn't be able to.
We're two hot babes
being hot together.
Until I wake up.
Sufficiently under the
influence of the gas.
Then we can bond.
Over our
mutual sense of sadness.
Did I mention
how big my d*ck is?
You know, if you
had half of mine,
you'd realize the active addict
might have a different reaction
to your happy gas.
And what would that
have proved, hmm?
Sexual activity between
consenting adults, it's natural.
Not lewd.
Two women hooking up
with a g*n between them?
A John Holmes mob man watching
them with his meat in his hand?
That's lust.
100%.
He backed me up on that.
Best laid plans--
Of mice and men oft go awry.
Yes.
Yes, I know.
Do you know what else?
Screw Robert Burns.
Screw Steinbeck.
And screw you too.
And whose diabolical
plan was this, actually?
Curveballs happen.
But for what it's worth,
they're not on drugs,
and the gas is
seemingly harmless.
What's this all
really about, Vice?
Play cards.
You wouldn't go through
all of this trouble just
to get the chef back.
Or even deal with
flattering your own vanity.
This is all about your vanity.
You're dreaming.
She doesn't see you, Vice.
Hello, Vanity.
A little self-absorbed?
We are made for each other.
Made.
It's perfect.
And all of this puts
me in her radar.
Except all of this
is falling apart.
Eight of diamonds.
Ooh.
You know, I was going to
make it quick, you know.
Annette would have been
very gracious of you,
given everything I've done.
Thank you.
And for the record,
of course, I felt
I was justified for what I did.
It's why I did it.
I knew it.
You sneaky b*stard.
So what are you going
to do with the other four?
I don't know, yet.
Well, I could
help you do a reset.
Manipulate their minds,
alter their reality,
the exact thing we're
not supposed to do?
Reset?
So you do know the rules.
Why would you help me?
Because you need help.
You're starting to
act like a human.
No, I am not.
Then why do you
have one of your own
being k*lled in the next room?
Well, I'm pretending
to be a gangster.
I'm supposed to k*ll
someone every now and then.
Somebody that just happens
to be shared with evil.
Coincidence.
Evil's a prick.
Now, you're going to help
me do this reset or what?
We get caught,
you take the fall.
We're not going to get caught.
As a matter of fact, it
wasn't even really me at all.
See, I have seven personalities.
Yeah, I read that in
your profile, man.
So one of your
personalities is actually
the child predator and not you?
Exactly.
He was created on a day
that I was molested meself.
So by being molested meself,
that became me experience.
And my personality kept
creating different versions
of that same experience.
That's very well said, man.
And that sounds awfully
deterministic to me.
Were you a philosophy student?
Me?
No way.
I like money.
Oh, man.
OK, we have one shot at this.
Don't blow it.
I won't.
On three.
1, 2, 3.
It's not working.
She probably just
needs the rest.
She needs a nap.
I love you.
Yeah, it was harder
than I thought.
See?
An old dog like you
can learn new tricks.
We're precisely the same age.
Yeah, but Black don't crack.
You're not Black.
Oh, before I forget.
What?
She can't hook up if she
acting like a seven-year-old.
Damn it!
g*dd*mn it.
Why did the
vegetarian cross the road?
Because she was protesting
for the chicken, man.
Fight the power.
Yeah, raw foods!
Bloody hell's gotten into you?
Oh, Atticus, this
perp is hilarious, man.
He's been telling me
all my favorite jokes.
Wait, wait, wait,
who did this to you?
Did what?
You've been drugged, mate
I feel fine.
Oh.
Tell me another one.
I know you--
You know what he's
probably going to say, right?
You think I'm stupid?
No.
Yes.
But--
What?
You see, this gas
doesn't create behavior.
It only encourages it.
So if Atticus and
Garrick really are yours,
and they're going to choose
your way whether they're gassed
or not--
You think they won't?
Well, if you let them follow
his plan, you never know.
Come in, Atticus.
Sorry to disturb.
Garrick's been drugged.
I don't know how, but
it wasn't the perp.
Now, I want to do the
perp, search the place,
and then take Garrick
to get cleaned up
and find out what happened.
No.
Guard the perp for the next
hour with the door open
and do nothing else until then.
But what about--
He'll be fine.
Did I not speak English?
Would you stop?
I can't.
You try.
Conjoined.
Conjoined with anybody
would be unbearable.
But conjoined with you is--
I would rather be a human.
I would rather be a human and
die the most gruesome death!
I'm talking a medieval
t*rture-style death, thinned,
tarred, feathered, set on fire,
and shitted on by rabid animals
than to spend eternity
conjoined with you!
God!
This is the first time that
we have completely agreed.
We're going to fix this
the old-fashioned way.
You mean immediate influence?
Yep.
But if we--
Don't even say it.
Are your lips as
soft as they look?
Maybe you'll find out.
Do you remember the man
that you dreamed of being?
Before the bottle.
Before the w*r.
Before everything.
Now is your chance to be him.
Let them go.
You came, and I
was longing for you.
You called a heart that
burned with desire.
Zephyr, the great l*sbian
poet of antiquity.
I think she had it about right.
Remember what you said.
Acting without planning
is planning to fail.
And this is a good time
now to plan, not act.
I don't really get
to date, date much.
Work.
She makes a living
using her hands.
Can you imagine?
I'll take
you out sometime.
Really?
Yeah.
I'm a good date.
You're an example
to the children.
You start acting like it now.
I see you, and I believe in you.
I bet you are.
I think this calls
for a celebration.
Mr. Garrick has
been telling me
all about the faulty
philosophy you've been reading.
I thought everyone knew Plato
was an abstractionist p*ssy.
Yeah, I know that.
And you know that.
But Atticus can
be a little slow.
I think both of you should be
reading more Niels Bohr and Max
Planck, you philistines.
Philistines.
Garrick, I think
we have an armchair
quantum theorist in our midst.
So where are you getting
your information from, chum?
YouTube?
The Secret?
You're not the only
one with a library card.
Quantum mechanics
says that beyond
the dualism of right and
wrong lies an infinite field
of possibilities.
And that includes
you and Mr. Garrick
actually getting laid one day.
He's
got a point there.
And that means Mr. Garrick
can exercise his own free will.
So does Mr. Garrick
choose magnum lubricated
or magnum extra-large?
Finally.
Myself again.
And I win the wager.
You go through all of
that, that hard work,
for a voyeuristic sex show.
And you're real
proud of yourself.
59 violations
in a single night.
Well, that has to be a record.
You look great.
I mean, wow.
I mean, look at you.
This is educated,
professional, comfortable.
Oh, shut up.
This was all his fault.
Shut up.
When Justice said you were
down here violating rules,
I said, no.
No, they're not engaged in some
petty little power struggle.
Not again.
Not possible.
Well, holy sh*t ba*ls.
From this point
forward, we acknowledge
that there are rules.
And we follow them.
Understood?
Speak.
- Yes.
- Yes.
- Yes.
Yes, ma'am.
You, I expect to
act like an idiot
because, obviously, you are one.
But you, rather than leave
them to his foolishness,
you help condemn them instead.
Condemned?
They're not condemned.
I just won them.
No, Darla and Olivia are mine.
No, they are not.
Yes, they are.
Shut up!
They're no one's.
Not anymore.
I'm taking them out of play.
You can't do that.
You two idiots
gave me no choice.
You physically
incapacitated one of them
with a direct intervention.
You overrode the
will of all of them.
You marionetted them for
your amusement, did a reset,
and wiped away memories.
And immediate influence from
not one, but both of you.
Are you f*cking serious?
But we were trying--
we thought--
No, you didn't think.
There was no thinking
taking place down here.
If you two want to
walk around down here
and pretend you're
human, that's acceptable.
It's ridiculous, but acceptable.
But humans have choices.
Period.
It defines them.
So how can they choose for
themselves if they have not one,
but two omnipotent,
timeless beings whispering
in both of their g*dd*mn ears?
Exactly.
Vice, contact Rollins
and free them.
Now?
You mean like now, now?
Well, if I call
him now, he could
have a paranoid episode now.
And if I-- if he loses
his marbles, he--
it will ruin the
hierarchy of organized
crime in LA, which would--
it'd be a pain in my a*s.
If you make me repeat
myself one more time,
I will show you
pain in your a*s.
OK.
OK.
Rollins, step away
from the poker table.
We need to talk.
Shut up and listen.
From this point forward, you
have nothing to do with Olivia
Cunningham and Darla Lewis.
Rollins, Rollins, I own you.
The secret meth lab in
Chino isn't a secret.
The bodies of Carter and
Raymond are still in Tim's car
on the way to the crematorium.
The girls you're planning to
traffic from Albania next week.
The C-130 in the
air full of heroin.
I make one phone call, and you
are in prison orange for life.
I can ruin you.
Now that you have
formal possession
of Darla Lewis and
Olivia Cunningham,
I take them from you
as your superior.
Do you understand?
Yes.
Do you witness?
Yes.
This is why we have rules.
And because you two
didn't follow them,
innocent people are
paying the price.
I will have both of
your heads for this.
But before you
snap your fingers
and take them out of play,
which is very efficient,
I say, there may
be an alternative.
Assuming that they
still demonstrate
the basic ability to choose.
Come in, Atticus!
Open it.
Oh.
Oh, full house.
Jolly good.
Oh, well, we were discussing
possibilities a moment ago.
Yeah, yeah, but the
possibilities for everyone,
including the-- you know, the
man we're-- we're torturing.
Yeah, well, we were going
to k*ll him, of course.
But then it occurred to us.
He has seven personalities.
Imagine if one of them
was a great painter.
Or a noted philosopher.
What if one of them
was a medical genius?
He could discover
the cure for cancer.
Or-- HIV and A*DS.
Nearsightedness.
Muscular dystrophy.
Blood disease.
p*nis
erectile dysfunction.
Oh, man, what about
chronic vaginal dryness?
Get to the point.
Well, with your permission.
With your permission, sorry.
We'd like to take him with us.
To the Aleutians.
He'd be trapped on an
island with no means of escape.
But he'd be
surrounded by books.
And if the child molester
comes out, we'll just grab him
and just castrate him.
So?
Get out.
Leave the money.
Take him with you.
- Get out.
- Thank you, Boss.
- Get out!
- You won't regret this.
Right.
You're looking
a little lonely.
Didn't your daddy ever tell you
to only take one weapon to bed?
Sorry.
It's OK.
That was easy.
He'll be all right.
Jim Beam.
We should get
Danielle and leave.
We make a pretty good team.
Yeah, glad we were
on the same page.
All of it wasn't an act.
No.
Story doesn't
have to end here.
Maybe sometime we could--
Maybe sometime we could just
get the damn show on the road!
You two could have
totally hooked up by now.
I'm just saying.
The clip is in his pocket.
This one is loaded
with real b*ll*ts.
It's time to make
a clear choice.
She who pulls the trigger
has a free pass out of here
with no questions asked.
Plus $100,000.
Which one is up to you.
Pow.
The choice is yours.
Choose wisely.
What was that?
That was clarity.
Vice, Justice will let
you know if I bring up
any more charges against you.
In the meantime, don't tempt me.
What about the other two?
By getting themselves
incapacitated,
they gave over their
choices to the others.
Do not make me come
down here again.
Yeah.
You.
You told Justice to tell
her that we were down here,
didn't you?
Where'd he go?
There's no blood.
What?
You set me up.
Oh.
You got me shot!
Vice, there are four
humans in this room,
and you're not one of them.
That is not the point!
Yeah, do you know
how much that hurts?
Why do I try?
Ladies,
ladies, over here.
Eyes over here.
Over here.
Come here.
This is it.
Danielle's waiting for you.
I have this for you.
Come on over here.
That must be twins over there.
Come over here, quick.
All four eyes are right on here.
All right, this is for you.
All right?
This is for you.
Can you take it?
All right, let me just--
There you go.
That's for you.
Now, may I have the g*n, please?
And the-- the keys, right?
Now, the car, Danielle's
car is out there in front.
And the keys are in her pocket.
So we'll see you soon.
OK, thank you.
Twins.
Remember twins.
Think twins.
Danielle,
let's get out of here.
Come on.
We gotta go.
- What?
- Come on.
Come on.
Come on.
Think twins.
Hi.
Hi.
Spill it.
What about Marcello?
Screw him.
Choose wisely.
Conniving as*h*le.
Where there's choice,
there's hope, Vice.
Always.
This ain't over.
It never is.
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