My name is Tom Van Allen...
...or Danny Parker.
I honestly don't know anymore.
You can decide.
Yeah, maybe you can help me, friend.
As you can see, I don't have a hell of a lot of time left.
You can decide who I am.
Avenging angel.
Judas Iscariot.
Loving husband.
Prodigal son.
Prince of Denmark.
All of these? None of these?
You decide.
Trumpet player.
Speed freak.
Speed.
That's as good a place to start as any.
But first, a little background on the mad world of the tweeker.
Methedrine was first distilled by a Japanese scientist before WWll.
Hand it to the Japanese, they knew a good thing when they saw it.
This guy is so tweeked he thinks he can survive this without a scratch.
Maybe not.
By some estimates, 2%of the Japanese had a meth problem after the war.
Factory workers, soldiers, pilots.
That's why it took two bombs to get them to surrender.
A nuclear blast is just a minor nuisance to a determined tweeker.
In the '50s, the housewives got ahold of it.
Dexedrine, Benzedrine, Methedrine.
Now, that's a classic speed freak for you.
Skinny and cleaning house.
Her husband never knew what hit him in the sack.
It's rumored that one of our presidents dabbled with energy shots.
Imagine that, a slammer in the White House.
If it's true, I bet Khrushchev never got a word in edgewise.
By the late '60s, the government cracked down and sent it underground.
Bikers controlled the market for a while.
Now anyone with a chemistry kit and the ingredients can cook it at home.
Ever see a long-haired, tattooed freak...
...buying up all the cold medicine at 3 in the morning?
Take it from me, he doesn't have a cold.
He's a cook.
In his kitchen, you'll find a grocery list of unsavory ingredients.
Drain cleaner, hydrochloric acid, match heads for red phosphorus...
...ether and of course, the cold medicine.
That's for the ephedrine soon to become Methedrine.
This guy is a regular Julia Child.
Problem is, even Julia screws up the bouillabaisse from time to time.
-It's not right. -You think?
Something's off.
We can do better.
This dude in my CMA meeting...
...he fucked my sister.
-Funny! -That's fucked.
He's a quantum physicist. He's telling me about uncertainty.
You never know what a molecule is doing.
When you look at it, it changes, it reacts. Like people.
You wouldn't know what I was doing unless you were looking.
You're so locked in, I could choke you!
So here's the deal. We'll do an experiment. Look at me.
Look away. Look back at me.
So that's where I found myself.
No, I should choose my words more wisely.
This is the world I sought out.
The land of the perpetual night party.
Day swallowing night and night swallowing day.
The crank compressing time like some divine piston...
...on its awesome downstroke.
We've been at this for three days.
Or is it four?
Tweekers, lokers, slammers, coming and going...
...swearing eternal allegiance for one another...
...only to wake up realizing you wouldn't cross the street...
...to piss on them if their head was on fire.
Three days.
Or is it four?
I know what you're thinking but don't give up on me yet.
Just wait till I've told my whole story.
And keep your eyes open.
Nothing is as it seems.
-We're out of gak! -What time is it?
-It's like 12. -Midnight?
-You okay? -Yeah.
I would not be into this without you.
How did we get this gig?
-I don't know. Got a dealer in mind? -Bobby.
-Who's Bobby? -He'll have some good stuff.
Jimmy the Finn, let's score some gak.
Bobby?
They're coming.
What?
The spiders, man.
But I'm ready for you this time!
Ready for you!
You thought you could fuck with Bobby!
With Bobby you thought you could fuck!
Got that ass, boy! Yeah!
-Who the fuck are you? -It's me, man. It's Jimmy.
-What can I do for you? -Couple eight balls ought to do us.
Six. Six.
-I can't breathe! -You know what? Don't mind her.
Don't mind her, man!
Shut the hell up, goddamn it!
You know what? I got no vocational skills.
-What the fuck do you want from me? -Hey, man, take it easy.
-I got no vocational skills! -Take it easy!
-What? -Lay off the girl!
What?
Did you bring the plastic men?
No, man.
That's your good crank talking there, brother.
Fucking come on, Bobby! Come on!
Bobby? Bobby?
That rhymes with....
Hobby.
-Hobby. -Hobby.
-I like that. -Funny.
Bobby, hobby. Couple of eight balls, huh?
Six.
I like that. Six.
Excuse me.
I don't mean to impose but I am the Ocean.
Thanks.
What? He's just juiced. He wouldn't do nothing.
-It was like our own private soiree. -So far in, we were out!
How do you know you're doing the right thing?
I don't know, like people around you are happy.
They say thank you and stuff.
Just go with the flow.
Come on, brother, power chord!
For the people that don't do drugs or just do them occasionally...
...it's something that becomes your life and you belong.
You finally hit bottom and you know who you are...
...because you can't go any lower.
When you find...
...a friendship...
...that you wouldn't have found anywhere else.
Still and all...
...there's a kind of intimacy with those that can go the distance.
Sometimes you see the world so clearly...
...and you know just what to do...
...and just when to do it.
Just what you should have done and when you should have done it.
L.A. Sheriff's Department. May I direct your call?
C.I. number DJ6T5KF55.
-Who's your contact? -Morgan and Garcetti.
-Hey. -Yo. Got a hot one.
You go, my little tweeker friend.
I don't wanna have this conversation in Crankville.
This the guy?
It speaks, yeah.
-Bobby, hobby, lobby. -What?
Bobby Ocean.
Cut to the chase. What's he holding?
He's a tweeker. Definitely gets high on his own supply.
What the fuck is he holding?
Definitely a dealer.
-I am the Ocean. -Couple pounds, maybe more.
Mossberg pump on the floor.
Cheap-ass MAC-12, fully loaded, safety off. And some knives.
-Any company? -Yeah, there's a Mrs. Ocean.
Probably won't give you trouble, but could be a black belt.
She was occupied at the time.
Nice job, dog. Let's take him down.
All right.
-And there was a kid. -A kid?
-You sure? -Yeah, I'm pretty sure.
Goddamn, you are one observant tweeker.
Thank you. Learned from the best.
And he likes to use the spear gun too, so do be careful.
-I'm touched. -Fuck you, I'm worried about the kid.
Why didn't you do something?
Want me to do your paperwork?
Know why you didn't do anything?
Because you're a cocksucking, lowlife tweeker. Shithead!
I never noticed your eyes were hazel.
This dude will do anything to touch me.
Take him to Chippendales or something.
Oh, my God. Bobby!
Why are you leaving me? Bobby? Why?
You need some help?
I was living next to Miss Congeniality and didn't even know it.
Hey.
You left some Chinese-Iooking shit out here.
Thank you.
Sorry I was rude. I'm just new around here.
Yeah. It's a dangerous neighborhood.
I live across the hall. My name is Danny Parker.
Colette Vaughn. Thank you.
Danny. Okay.
My name is Tom Van Allen.
I'm a trumpet player.
My name is Tom Van Allen.
I play the trumpet.
My name is Tom Van Allen. I'm a trumpet player.
That hurts my heart.
What a beautiful composition.
And the performance?
Tom Van Allen is nothing short of dazzling...
...in his interpretation of Miles Davis' haunting, moody piece.
-Thank you. -And he has a hot ass...
...with hardly any hair on it.
-Again, I thank you. -No, I was talking about Miles.
Don't!
What do you think of when you play?
I just think about what life would be like without you.
Let's spend the night here.
-There are no motels here. -No, no!
Right here on the beach.
Come on, let's do it.
I got us lost.
We should get going.
Okay, we'll stay.
We'll stay.
Trust the system.
I gave you this Bobby thing. I've done a lot of busts for you.
Put your cigarette out.
We're in church. Put your cigarette out.
It's disrespectful, smoking in front of the Virgin Mary.
Whatever.
So I work hard. I hate what I do but I'm good at it, you know?
-I'm industrious. -Yes, you are.
So why does Garcetti hate me?
Come on, man. You can't take Garcetti seriously.
He hates everyone.
He doesn't even like dolphins.
You know that? I'm not kidding you. He does.
Seriously, the man hates dolphins.
Have you ever heard of anyone who doesn't like a dolphin?
Garcetti is a dolphin-hater.
-Hey, bro. -What's up?
How are you doing?
You tell him yet?
No, I was getting to it.
What?
Danny, it pains me to have to tell you this, but remember Domingo?
The wetback you helped us put away for trafficking months back?
It turns out that he's connected to the Mexicali boys.
Now his homeys are making a lot of noise...
...about hanging a Colombian necktie on the rat.
You know what that is?
They cut a hole in your throat. Pull your tongue out through it.
-Fuck you! -Interesting, isn't it?
You have to take a hike. Disappear. Protect yourself.
You're not gonna protect me?
I do bust after bust for you guys.
For a solid year. You're nothing without me.
Over and over, and you'd cut me loose?
Your felony is dropped to a misdemeanor.
Your snitch card is full. I'll clear it with the D.A.
And you, my friend, are getting lost before Domingo finds you.
Now go. Get lost.
I only deal in high-end weapons.
All stolen, traceable only to original owners.
Glock, semiautomatic, 9 mm.
Tenifer matte finish, polymer grip, 4.5-inch barrel, 22 oz...
...and a 10-round magazine.
I could hook you up with this gun for $350, well below market value.
Maybe you're looking for something with a chrome finish.
A Llama Mini Max .38 Super Auto, semiautomatic.
Satin chrome, rubber grip, 3-dot fixed sights...
...3.5-inch barrel, skeletonized handle, slide release.
Eight-capacity magazine.
I won't lie. This gun is not the bomb. It will do the job.
That's why you can walk out with this gun for $150.
Looking for power? This gun's got mad power, kick and reputation.
It's the Smith .357 Magnum revolver.
Rubber combat-style grips, fixed rear, ramp front sights, two-inch barrel.
Weighs a feather 21 oz., 8-shot capacity, double action.
For impact, the Magnum will satisfy all your needs.
These are my guns. All sales are final. All prices are negotiable.
Fuck! Where do you find these people?
The Del Amo Fashion Mall.
Mostly.
What are you gonna do tonight?
What am I gonna do? What are we gonna do? What do you wanna do?
Why do you need a gun anyway?
It's a dangerous world.
Open the door!
-I'm not dressed! -Yo, Mina!
-Use your key! -You mad-dogging me, bitch?
No. I was just admiring your boots.
Did you purchase them locally?
Come on! I ain't got all fucking day!
Okay, nice talking to you.
-Yeah, fuck you. Let's go! -Just a minute!
Come on!
How many fucking times I got to knock on this door, you fucking bitch?
-Did you go through my shit? -I didn't.
How did you know it was there? Fucking bitch! What were you doing?
What the fuck were you doing? Where's my shit?
I put it there? What were you doing?
-Get off me! -What the fuck are you doing?
-Come here! -Get the fuck out of here.
-What the fuck? -Get off me!
Bubba.
Ride them, cowboy.
It's a classy truck.
You like that?
You consider my proposition?
Get in, hoss. We'll talk it over.
Jimmy, listen to me. I am in dire need of some cash.
You see that? That is what I am talking about.
What?
You're smooth. You use words like "dire" and shit.
You got language skills, son.
-Jimmy. -"I'm in dire need of some cash."
Listen.
I want to do a big score with Pooh-Bear.
And you know one of his dealers.
That guy you were talking to, Big Bill.
-You can get ahold of him. -Yeah.
Hook me up with him. Tell him I wanna make a deal with Pooh-Bear.
Listen to me.
Really listen to me, your friend.
This guy is-- Okay.
You are a circle of something that is totally pure and full of light...
...and that is totally smooth and totally wonderful.
And he can't even understand himself. No one can understand it.
It's just something that has overtaken him.
It's not him. It's something that is on him.
There's no him in there. And he has this whole thing with his nose....
But he's got the gak.
Yeah.
-So you in? -Yeah!
Finn's in! What's the plan?
I got a connection who wants to buy a quarter's worth.
No. Okay. A quarter is not even anything he's in. That's nothing.
A quarter of a million.
Fuck!
What's in it for us?
A 10%finder's fee.
What is that? That's like--
Twenty-five grand. You get five just for the ride.
Come on, man! Roll with the Cougar! Cougar!
Finn.
Might as well put a sign on the car begging the cops to pull you over.
You mean, to throw them off?
Yeah, that's what I mean.
-Where the hell does this guy live? -Palmdale.
Why do they call him Pooh-Bear?
On account of his nose.
-You have to explain that one. -He doesn't have one.
I'm sure it's me. I'm not making the connection.
The way Winnie the Pooh always got his nose caught in the honey jar?
Pooh-Bear did so much gak they had to cut his nose off.
Now he just has a plastic one. They say he hasn't slept in over a year.
-Bullshit. -I've never seen him sleep. Seriously.
Have you ever seen Queen Elizabeth sleep?
No. What, is she a tweeker?
Yes, that's my point.
Get ready, gentlemen!
-Zapruder? -Ready.
And rolling.
Oswald!
Ready!
-Grassy Knoll? -Ready.
-And the undeniable Third Shooter? -Good to go.
Okay, gentlemen, here we go.
Jesus, look, here comes the president now!
That's the president of the United States, ladies and gentlemen.
Here he comes, waving to the crowd.
Look at the first lady.
She's looking radiant as ever. Lovely.
As they turn the corner into Dealey Plaza.
Here we go, gentlemen. Get ready.
Get ready!
Steady.
Steady!
Fire! Fire!
That's shooting.
Got a feeling there's a proposition looming here, Danny-boy!
I got a guy, reliable, wants to buy a quarter's worth.
Crank, huh?
-No, glass. The good stuff. -Glass.
Can you handle that? Can we talk price?
Make me an offer. Have a taste of this.
-No, I'm good. -It's delicious. Have a taste.
I'm telling you, it's good.
Have a taste. Come on.
-Fantastic. -Secret recipe.
How about 14,000 a kilo?
I only deal in U.S. pounds. None of that faggot metric crap.
That's around 40 pounds for...
...6000 a pound.
Okay.
We got a deal.
Anything for a dear friend.
40 pounds at 6000 a pound.
If you say so.
I don't mean to be rude but I don't think you're taking me seriously.
It's you who's not taking me serious.
I'm just here to do a deal.
I welcomed you here with open arms. I did.
You're sitting here like some used car salesman trying to lowball me.
I'm not.
I'll tell you about the last guy who tried to jam me up.
-I'm not. -I love this goddamn story.
This dude shorted me $11 . Thought I wouldn't count it before I went home.
He was wrong.
You know what I did?
I put his head in a vise.
He's screaming. You should have heard it.
I cut this guy's skull open with a hacksaw.
I was staring at this boy's brain.
I was thinking, he doesn't need this thing.
Anyone stupid enough to try to jam me up...
...must not have much use for his brain.
So I took it.
I did. I keep it in the freezer.
Every once in a while, I cut off a slice...
...and mix it up with my dinner.
Or my breakfast.
Ten thousand a pound.
Thanks for your hospitality.
Hang on. Nine thousand, take it or leave it.
I'll leave it. Eight's as high as I can go.
All right. Eight's good. Eight sounds good, Danny-boy.
It's where I was going. It's my lucky number. Looks like we got a deal.
You know, you got a lot of nerve.
You got a lot of nerve. Pooh-Bear likes that in a young man.
Hey, hang on a second!
Wanna stay for lunch?
I got your ass! I'm a dog! Look at this:
I'm a fucking dog!
Shit!
-Can I ask you a question? -Sure.
What does J.F.K. stand for?
John Fitzgerald Kennedy.
And he was the president of the United States?
And he was killed?
They assassinated him.
Hey, Danny.
Thanks for not laughing at me.
My wife's pimp knows a guy at Cedars-Sinai medical lab.
He's making a delivery a week from Friday.
Is it drugs?
Better than drugs. It's Bob Hope's stool specimen. We're gonna boost it.
Why in the world would you want to do that?
So we can sell it.
-To who? -EBay.
A collector. It's Bob Hope.
He's a fucking national treasure.
I mean, exactly. So here's the deal. This here is the lab.
What is that?
-The lab. -I mean, what kind of drink?
-A Cuba Libre. -What is that? Rum and Coke?
-It's irrelevant. -I gotta be clear on the details.
-Can I taste this? -No.
Put the lab down and shut the fuck up. Guys, focus.
Danny, if I let you in on this, the least you can do is pay atten--
It gets frustrating. Focus. Here we go. This here is the courier.
This dude makes the deliveries on the nose every Friday at 4 p.m.
Alpha team will be in the elevator. That's Danny and Creeper.
We'll have night-vision goggles, police scanner and two-way radios.
It'll be badass! Number Two team will be by the stairs.
-That's me and Jimmy. -Wait a second!
-What about me? -No chicks.
-What? -No chicks.
No chicks?
-Got a driver's license? -Yeah.
-Anyone else have one? -No.
So you can be the getaway chick. Or you can be my fluffer.
The Alpha team will follow the courier out from the elevator.
Kujo moving.
Number Two team will cut the courier off before he even gets to the lab.
Facing superior numbers and high-tech weapons...
...the courier will have to comply with our demands.
-Get off it! -Let go of the sample!
You Outbreak-Iooking motherfucker! Come on, drop it! Get up!
Here's the beautiful part: the getaway.
Both teams will rappel down the center of the staircase.
Change clothes. Walk out the door like nothing happened.
I'm okay!
Oh, fuck.
Nice.
-Danny, you in? -I have to pass on this one.
You'll what?
He'll pass! Jimmy, you in?
No, I'm good.
Are you in or you out?
What are you doing out here?
Quincy. Oh, fuck.
My boyfriend kicked me out. Whatever.
-You okay? -Yeah, thank you. Good night.
Okay, good night.
-I'd invite you in, you know. -No.
Why don't you leave this guy?
Not that easy.
Yes, it is.
What's this?
You were married, huh?
Was she everything to you?
Yeah.
That's nice.
You have anyone like that?
Yeah, I've got a kid.
She's staying with my grandma while I get another job.
Well, look for another job.
So where does Quincy fit in?
I had a few medical bills.
You'll have more unless you get rid of him.
Yeah, well, I will.
One way or another, I will.
Bubba, we're good. Pooh-Bear is in. And you got the 250,000, right?
So let's do it.
Nope.
What nope?
I wanna do a small buy first.
Ten thousand. Cash on the barrelhead. We'll see how it goes.
No! You said the whole whack now. This guy is ready. I said you were.
He'll think I'm a liar. It's gotta be now. What's the difference?
I don't know him. And I don't really know you, partner.
-That's downright insulting. -You'll have to live with that.
My money, my risk, my rules.
You're in a very tenuous position on the food chain, hoss.
He won't like this. I'll take it....
You believe this prick, trying to pull this off without us?
Motherfucker.
-Fuck! -Hey, dog.
-What the fuck are you doing here? -Hey. Jesus!
You fucking scared me! I thought I was in trouble for a second.
Quit lying to me.
Did you really think you were slick enough to pull this off by yourself?
-I don't know. -Did you?
I didn't want to do anything without-- You told me to get lost.
I was just trying to do a good score so I could get lost.
I'm supposed to sit around till Domingo kills me?
Who's on the other end?
Pooh-Bear is his nickname. I don't know his name.
He's a cook and a dealer in Palmdale.
I'll just do whatever you want. I'll call the dude, tell him it's over.
Wrong, pal.
You're gonna roll over on these guys.
-What? -You don't have a choice.
We can go fed on your ass right now. Ongoing criminal conspiracy.
Intent to buy and distribute 250 G's worth of crank.
-What's the mandatory on that? -Ten years minimum.
Yeah.
And believe me, word will go out that you rolled over and snitched.
And that's not good in prison, dog. That's not good at all.
Holland Dale Monty, a.k.a. Pooh-Bear.
Served five years for beating a pimp to death with a wheelchair.
-That sounds right. -Here's the scoop.
Pooh-Bear scores dope by ripping off other slingers.
See how lucky you are?
What's to stop him from doing me as soon as I get in the room?
-We're coordinating with Palmdale P.D. -That makes me feel good.
No need to worry.
Do everything by the book. Pooh-Bear goes down, nobody gets hurt.
What about the other thing?
-Yeah, the menacing silver car. -Did you check the license plate?
-Brace yourself. -The Domingo boys?
-It's much worse. -Don't fuck with me! What is it?
It's a teacher.
The car is registered to a Mrs. Nancy Plummer.
She's 57 years old!
She's been a third-grade school teacher for the last 33 years!
Have you been tweeking with the higher education?
You're getting paranoid. You better lay off the gak.
Cliff saw you downtown a few weeks ago.
That's how we tracked you down.
He said you looked so bad he barely recognized you.
Billy's a narcotics officer now, you know.
We want to help you.
Look, I know that everybody deals with grief in their own way.
I know how hard it is to find closure.
For myself, I feel I have finally found it in my heart...
...to forgive those people that killed my daughter.
I gave my grief to Jesus Christ and it helps.
I'm really happy that you found some peace. That's good.
I want you to leave me alone. Do you understand?
Listen.
Nancy has been coming downtown. I've seen her and it's dangerous.
Just make her stay away, okay?
Turn around.
My guy changed the deal. I want to talk to Pooh-Bear.
-I'll tell him for you. -That's his.
Don't say a fucking word.
-Pooh-Bear, what's up? -He's blue.
We're coming down from a ten-day ride, man.
Pull your pants down.
-You heard him. -Pull your motherfucking pants down!
-What the fuck you talking about? -Little Bill.
Put your fucking hands up. Put your fucking hands up. Come on!
I told you he's a good-Iooking young man. Shit!
You know...
...sometimes a man will do...
...almost anything...
...to get what he wants.
I've done some things.
Introduce him to Captain Steubing.
Hey, now, listen.
We don't have a deal, fine. I'll just go.
What do you want me to say?
Captain hasn't eaten in over a week.
That and the rabies don't make for a happy badger.
Now, he thinks that you might work for the police.
That's crazy!
Don't impress me. I'm not the one making the accusations.
Address Captain Steubing.
-Go ahead. -Captain, this is crazy.
I don't know what you heard, who you heard it from...
...but I'm not a cop. I don't know if you've checked me out.
I don't think he believes you.
Drop your package in the cage.
There's an idea. Maybe put your pee-pee in the hole there.
I'm not gonna do that. Listen.
Come on. Come on, boy.
You better start talking because he's going to get you!
All right! Okay, okay.
If you're gonna say something, you gotta say it now!
Jesus! Jesus!
It's Little Bill! He was talking shit about you.
He's cutting you out. That's why you guys had trouble lately.
I saw him. He took the money I brought you. $10,000.
He talked about how you'd lost it. He's carrying it.
-Shut the fuck up. He's lying. -He's got your money!
People say things when they're sporting badger food for a pecker.
Right!
Then again, people do a lot of things when they're around money.
-It ain't bad to check it out. -Come on!
-Just checking. -What kind of shit is this?
-How do we know if we don't check? -This is bullshit!
-What is this? -Little Bill?
It's not what you think, Pooh. Tell them, man! It's not--
What the fuck was that?
I mean, what was that?!
This was supposed to be a test. Ten grand.
10,000 worth of good glass and then 250. Fuck.
-You got to take it easy. -Can I have a glass of water?
I'll get you some water.
Oh, God! Pooh, please!
Dear Mother of God, Bill! Bill, please!
Thank you. That shit wasn't right.
Can you shut him up over there, please? Shut up!
I've got my sample here.
-I sense a little apprehension. -No, no. I just....
You're making me nervous.
You're not gonna back out on this thing, are you?
Please don't do that.
That would sincerely hurt my feelings.
Danny.
Danny, are you there?
Oh, Jesus.
If I could just stand here for a moment, I'll be fine.
Sure.
Thank you.
Look at us. What a pair, huh?
Can I try that again?
I can't.
Shit.
You should go.
What's going on?
There's someone else.
Yes.
It's okay. But I still owe you for a cup of coffee, whenever--
No, wait.
Don't go.
I want to talk.
Tired of lying.
What you want to do is you wanna go back the way you came.
Make a left at the bottom. It'll take you back to the highway.
That's it?
Do you mind if I use your bathroom?
Sure. Go past the TV, turn right, it's the first door on your left.
-Do you mind? -Make it fast.
Let's go.
I could have done something.
They would have killed you too.
I could have fought.
I could have died.
I'm dying now.
You're not dying. You're right here.
Listen.
I want to do something good.
I want to help you with Quincy.
You can't help me with Quincy.
Yes, there's something I can do. Come on.
Here, take this.
I can't take that.
No, it's not what you think.
This is my pager number. Take this bag and hide it where he can't find it.
When you know he'll be there a while, page me, then leave.
Why?
Some guys will take care of him. You won't see him again.
-I don't want to do this. -They're cops.
I work with them. I messed up. You can fix this.
Do it for your daughter.
Yo, man, I ain't got nothing! Get these cuffs off me!
-Bubba. -Yes?
-You got the money? -Yep.
Okay.
Make sure you come alone because Pooh-Bear doesn't like surprises.
I ain't an idiot, asshole.
See you tonight.
A man of few words.
What's up? You nervous?
Are you clowns watching my back?
Make sure you hit the floor when we come in. It could get ugly in there.
We don't want to accidentally shoot you.
-How did it go? -You tell me.
You ready to go meet the team?
Well, get in, hoss.
For those of you who don't know, this is Tom Van Allen, a.k.a. Danny Parker.
A year ago, Mr. Van Allen's wife was murdered...
...in a meth lab out near the Salton Sea.
No one was ever apprehended.
Local authorities assumed it was a home intrusion by rival drug dealers.
Until Tom took it upon himself to conduct a one-man operation...
...at great risk to his own personal safety.
-He's a civilian? -Yeah, he's a civilian.
How did you pull this off?
-You saw one of the perpetrators? -No. I was in the bathroom.
In the house? What about the house?
In the house.
Did you see a hair color?
They had masks on. I didn't see....
Forensics found this red hair on your wife's body.
That's how it started.
We'd stopped for gas at the Salton Sea.
I had seen a man with red hair.
It was the ring that drew my attention.
I knew the ring.
-What is it? -Nothing.
-Why didn't you tell him? -I wanted to find him myself.
-I wanted to kill him. -What about the ring?
It was a college ring.
Central Valley. Where my father once taught music.
I tracked him to the L.A. Sheriff's Department.
I would have killed him right there but I had to be positive.
Even if Morgan was involved, I had to be sure about Garcetti.
So I became Danny Parker.
Oh, shit!
Son of a bitch!
What the fuck?
I dropped myself right in their laps.
Morgan.
Well, well, well.
I was a perfect rat.
I did whatever they wanted, gave up whoever they asked for.
But I knew I had to go further.
I had to get closer.
I needed a big buyer. It had to be a perfect setup.
One that I knew they would hit even if they didn't include me.
-But it never happened. -That's when he called me.
We had a C.I. call Morgan and Garcetti with an anonymous tip about it.
You believe this prick, trying to pull this off without us?
Motherfucker.
I dumped a dummy file into the system.
We got the 411 on your boy. Appears to be a major trafficker in Texas.
Jumped bail on a murder charge last April.
Murder? Beautiful.
Pumped 57 slugs into a police informant.
They took the bait and we were off.
This is bullshit. This guy's a fucking rat.
How do you know you're not jamming two good cops?
All you have is one red hair. It's still your only evidence.
Not anymore. We tapped their phones and computers at the sheriff's office.
Morgan and Garcetti have not filed one report on this deal.
They haven't coordinated with Palmdale P.D. They're keeping it off the books.
It looks like we got the right guys.
We'll find out for sure tonight.
They called me a fucking rat. They don't believe me.
Get Pooh-Bear to meet at the Tropic Motel. Everything will work out fine.
Oh, come on now. You are doing the right thing.
I don't see you have any choice.
You wouldn't have stood a chance with those boys.
I need you to do your part. And I give you my word that I'll do mine.
I'm counting on you.
Catch.
It's $10,000.
What I want you to do is worth more but it's all I could get.
You only owe me five. That's not till after we close the deal tonight.
I don't want you to come with me. I want you to do me a solid instead.
-Okay. -Let me tell you what it is first.
It doesn't matter. I'll do it. And you don't have to pay me.
-Why? -Like, you're my best friend.
I'd do anything for you.
-Wait. -Listen.
Are you ready? Come on, be ready.
-Listen-- -Check that out.
-What is that? -It's you.
Check it out.
I didn't have a picture so I described you. Good job, right?
You like it?
-It rocks. -Seriously?
-I know it's a little weird. It's not? -You're insane.
My God, it will be so fucking A-plus after tonight. Seriously.
We'll lay out a mile of crank.
You start at that end and I start at this end.
-Quit that shit. -What?
I quit, Jimmy.
I came over here to tell you I'm going straight and to say goodbye.
What?
Will you sit down?
Look, I'm not a dealer, okay?
Hey, just chill. Seriously, it's okay, Danny.
I'm not Danny!
I'm sorry. I'm not Danny, okay? Are you listening?
I'm not Danny Parker.
I became Danny Parker. He's a rat.
He.... I'm not a dealer.
Everything I've ever said to you is a lie.
I'm a rat.
But I became a rat for a good reason.
-What's the reason? -I can't tell you.
Why not?
Because you don't trust me.
-No, Jimmy, no. -You don't trust me.
Everything, like, everything that you said is a lie. Right?
And you're not who you say you are.
And you're like-- What the fuck is that? You don't like me!
No, that's not it.
That's not it. That's not what I'm saying at all.
You're my friend, okay?
You're my only friend. I wasn't lying about that.
But all of what I've done is for this plan, okay?
It didn't work. I'm just trying to make it right.
I really need your help.
But I understand.
What do you want me to do?
I'm on my last smoke. I gotta pull over and get more.
A pack of GCPs.
$2.75.
This is the Red Team. We're in position.
All right, people, heads up.
-How are you doing, Joe? -Copy. I have a visual.
Okay, it's all yours. Keep it safe, please.
-It's about a half-hour till kickoff. -Pooh-Bear needs a little landscaping.
Any word from Pooh-Bear?
You okay, hoss?
What in the hell?
Danny told me to tell you he was sorry...
...and that he was gonna take care of things himself.
Goddamn it.
Our boy's a 97.
Where is Bubba?
Maybe he's not coming.
Shit.
Danny, what the fuck are you doing?
Where's the money?
Tell me he's got the money.
Yeah, our friendly is definitely handling the cash.
Ready?
Let's do it.
I can't get little piglets out of my mind.
I think of one in particular with cutout crotch panties.
What's happening?
-He's clean. -It's high card, boys.
We gonna do a deal?
High card wins, gentlemen.
On three, boys.
-Three. I got a queen of diamonds. -Shit.
Suicide king of hearts.
-You're the man. -Yes, I am.
-I'll take a piss. -All right.
-What are you playing? -Hole in the head.
Don't you want to play for real money?
-Fucking asshole! -Skipper, goddamn it! Calm down.
-Get yourself a beer, boy! -You stupid motherfucker.
He's a little upset there.
Here we go. Look at this.
Look at this here. Good job, Danny.
That's a lot of money there. Jesus. It's enough to make you weep.
Bill!
Bill, you ought to come in here and see this!
Bill! It's a hell of a lot of money!
That's just really beautiful.
Hot damn!
Damn it! Shit!
Hell!
When are you gonna go away?
That's okay. That's how it's gonna be.
That's how I'm going. I'm going. I could be....
I could be a cowboy if I only had a half a chance.
I'm just a little boy on a goddamn rocking horse, that's all!
That's all right, that's all right.
That's okay. I know, I'm just a little boy.
That's all.
That's okay.
I'm fine!
Just a little boy on a rocking horse. Ain't no big thing.
No big thing at all.
I'm gonna be all right.
Jesus.
That's all.
That's all you get, cowboy.
Goddamn!
All clear!
Did we all end at the same time?
It's okay.
Fuck.
Danny.
-My name is Tom. -God!
-Tom Van Allen. -Jesus!
Jesus! Okay, okay.
Whatever you say. Whatever you say.
What are you doing? Come on. Look at me and talk to me.
You're lost. The Salton Sea.
You're in a bathroom. You're shot in the shoulder.
Your wife is about to be murdered by two thieves with ski masks on.
Jesus.
Do you crawl out and die with her? Do you stay? What do you do?
I don't know.
-Answer the question. -Oh, God!
-Answer the question. -I don't know!
-What do you do? -Jesus.
Do you die?
Or do you fight?
I couldn't have known. I couldn't have known.
God. I don't know what you want me to say. I just couldn't have known.
Tell me.
I would....
Please don't do this.
-I'm sorry. -She was so precious.
-You shouldn't have killed her. -I'm sorry.
-You shouldn't have done that. -I didn't know.
You shouldn't have done that. What do you do?
Does that answer your question?
I fight.
I fight. And I die like a man.
You. You've lived your life like a punk.
You're a coward.
And now you're going to die like one, huh?
-Smith .357. -Rubber combat-style grips.
Fixed rear, ramp front sights, two-inch barrel.
Weighs a feather 21 oz. Eight-round capacity.
Or did I say nine?
Which one is it, mister? Eight or nine?
It's a pretty big fucking difference if you ask me.
It doesn't matter.
-What? -It doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter. It's too late.
Eight.
My name is Tom Van Allen.
I'm a trumpet player.
No. Your name is Danny Parker. You're a motherfucking rat.
No!
-What's happening? -I'll tell you what's happening.
The fucking cops came. They didn't find shit.
Their fucking rat gave them the wrong information.
Fuck with the Mexicali boys, that's what you get.
Domingo figured you were the one that ratted on him. Guess what?
I brought a fucking rat of my own.
You set me up?
Man, that fucking bitch played you like a squeezebox, Romeo.
-They've got my daughter. -She had no fucking choice, man.
She took a good beating for you. I've seen men crack after half of that.
-I'm so sorry. -One tough bitch you got there, huh?
-It's okay. -I'm so sorry.
It's okay. It's okay.
Let's go.
-I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. -Now!
Let him burn, bitch.
So who am I?
Who am I after all is said and done?
Tom Van Allen or Danny Parker?
Avenging angel or plain old Judas?
I don't know.
You decide.
I'm too tired.
You decide.
Oh, shit, what is this?
Am I dead?
Linoleum?
This must be hell.
Oh, no, what a cliché.
I've had some time to think about it and it's pretty simple after all.
I think it's like the man said, "Man is the measure of all things. "
I should know. I ran the gamut.
Tom Van Allen got his revenge. Good for Tom.
And Danny Parker? He got gut-shot for being a lowlife rat.
That sucks for him.
As far as I'm concerned, they're both dead.
So who is this guy?
Tell you the truth, I still don't know.
But I like his chances.
I really like his chances.
Subtitles by Nexus23.net Nothing is As it Seems