People always say there's no such thing as the perfect crime.
But I don't agree with that.
If you plan things carefully enough... if you think through every last detail... if you have nerves of steel... if you can remain calm no matter what happens... there should be no problem you can't handle.
It's really all a matter of character.
Of course, if I had any character...
I wouldn't have stolen $2 million from my boss.
Ho, ho, fucking ho.
Well? How did it go?
Good. Went good.
Am I going to have to slap the shit out of you? How much?
Vic, it's a great big fucking pile of money.
$2,147,000 and change.
My God, we're actually doing this.
No, we're not doing it.
It's already done.
Look, don't be so worried. The hard part's done already.
Everything worked just like you said it would.
Yeah. I guess.
Just act normal for a few hours and we're home free.
You want to take the money and not me?
You want to take the money?
No. I don't know. I was just...
Well, if you want to take the money...
I mean, if you think you can do a better job... of guarding $2 million...
No, no, no. It should be you. It should be you.
It's just we didn't discuss that.
Are we through discussing it?
Or is there more to say on the subject?
No, we're done.
Cool. Okay, shut the door.
Okay. Okay. And, Charlie.
Yeah? Act normal.
Oh, good! Good. No, no, no.
No, no. That's none of your business.
That's none of your fucking business, all right?
I don't give a shit, you toothless old whore.
Mom. Mom, I gotta go.
Don't you ever touch her again!
Sidney! Sidney! No! No!
Don't hurt him.
Jeez, it's Christmas.
I love you.
Don't be an asshole.
Giselle, come on, hop up there.
Merry Christmas, Sidney.
Hi, Charlie. Didn't see you come in.
Who gave Rusti the shiner?
Her asshole boyfriend. Some dipshit guitar player.
I swear to God, if he comes in here again...
I'm gonna break his fucking fingers.
Jesus, look at this place.
Just 'cause it's Christmas... people all of a sudden can't look at tits and ass?
Hi, Renata. Hello, Counselor.
Not drinking tonight?
Just watching the floorshow.
Sidney, get my favorite crooked lawyer a beer.
Actually, I'll take a rum.
Rum and what? Got any pineapple juice?
If you got one of those little plastic umbrellas... you can put that thing in there.
You look like the cat that swallowed the canary, is what.
Like you're about to belch a feather.
Been working on this acquisition deal for a while... and it finally came through, so...
Is this a Bill Guerrard thing?
No, this is a... No.
Man of mystery.
This mean you're rich, Charlie?
'Cause if you are, we could run away together.
It's a thought.
Damn right, it's a thought.
Come the first of the year, there'll be no more nude dancing in the city.
Which means I'm fucked.
And don't tell me, "Move out to the county," either.
Because Bill Guerrard's got the county all to himself.
And I don't think he's looking for competition.
Isn't that right, Charlie?
You should let me help you out.
If I was real smart, I'd see this as an opportunity.
I could, you know. Could what?
Help you. You, Charlie?
If you had that photo...
Of Councilman Williams and Cupcake?
Vic's got that photo.
And I know he won't give it to me... because I've asked him nice and he just won't.
Well, he wouldn't have to know.
That would be just about... the nicest Christmas present you could give me, Charlie.
I'd have to think of something extra nice to give you in return.
No. Forget it.
I appreciate the thought, but you'd be getting in way over your head.
Vic Cavanaugh and Bill Guerrard eat guys like you for lunch.
I'll be back later to close up.
It's against my religion to give out personal advice... but you should either sober up or get real drunk.
That's fucking horrible. Toss it and give me a beer.
Have you seen Charlie tonight?
No. You just missed him.
How about Vic? Seen Vic?
No. Not yet.
Of course, it is Christmas.
Yeah, right. Christmas.
"As Wichita falls, so falls Wichita Falls."
What sort of fucking moron would write such a thing?
Roy Gelles is in town.
Vic, did you hear me?
Roy Gelles is in town.
So what? So he's looking for us.
So maybe he knows. That's what.
Roy Gelles doesn't know shit.
Roy Gelles knows what Bill Guerrard tells him.
And Bill doesn't know shit either, so chill out.
Then what is he doing in town on Christmas Eve?
Thank you, sweetie. I appreciate it.
He's got a daughter in town. Maybe he's visiting her.
Like you said, it's Christmas.
That still doesn't explain why he's at the Sweet Cage.
Listen, Charlie, don't go squirrelly on me now, okay?
Just stick to the plan.
Maybe we should leave now.
Well, we're not going to.
In case you haven't noticed, it's a fucking hockey rink out there.
Oh, my God, what have I done?
They say the rain is supposed to stop by midnight.
By 5:00 in the morning, we're in Kansas City... where we enjoy a leisurely breakfast at the airport... and by 8:00, we're on a plane to someplace warm... where it's against the fucking law to rain, okay?
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Hi, Mr. Arglist. I didn't recognize you.
Yeah. Boy, I didn't realize how slippery that was.
Yeah. Didn't you notice all the cars off the side of the road?
I wasn't paying close enough attention, I guess.
You going somewhere, Mr. Argllst?
Hey, none of my business, right?
I'd be careful, though.
We're gonna have this freezing rain on and off all night... so I'd stay off the road... and probably take it easy with that, too.
The next guy who pulls you over... might be somebody who don't know any better.
I definitely owe you one.
All right. It's Tyler. It's R.P. Tyler.
Remember my name to Mr. Guerrard.
What is it?
Just kidding. Just kidding.
Have a merry Christmas. Merry Christmas.
I'm not working Christmas for no fucking money, Dennis.
I could be at home spending Christmas with my kids.
Your kids with your husband, Francie. They in Denver.
Fuck you very much for throwing that in my face.
Look, you can cry all you want, but you're still going on.
You've been here long enough to know the goddamn drill.
You wanna work on the hot nights, you gotta work on the cold.
Fuck it, Dennis.
I'm not paying Bill Guerrard a $100 stage rental fee... so some old pervert can look at my twat on Christmas fucking Eve!
Tell you what. Since it's Christmas Eve... stage rental's on the house.
Hi, Charlie. I didn't see you come in.
You mean it?
Since when are you a friend of the working girl?
It's Christmas, Dennis. It's God's birthday.
Well, hello there, Councilman.
50, Dennis, you're saying you haven't seen Charlie, huh?
Charlie? No. Why do you ask?
How about Vic Cavanaugh? You seen him?
Dude, I don't do henchmen, man. I do strippers.
Hey, Frankie. Is Vic around?
He's sitting over there.
Let me get you a drink. Thanks.
You know, us being seen together, tonight of all nights... is probably not so smart.
I would have called... but I had a bit of a situation.
50. Guess who's over at the Tease.
Roy Gelles. I just spoke to him.
You just spoke to him? Yeah, I spoke to him.
Come on, man. What the fuck... What did he say?
What's wrong with you? He just called to wish me a merry Christmas.
What did you say?
Well, I wished him a merry Christmas.
What did he say?
What the hell are you so worried about?
Vic, I sue people for a living.
You sell them pornography.
Roy hurts people.
He makes it so their knees and elbows bend in both directions.
That worries me.
Let me ask you something.
Did I make a mistake when I made you my partner in this deal?
You didn't make me your partner. I am the one who showed you... how to steal $2 million worth of Bill Guerrard's money.
Then I showed you how to do it so he wouldn't know what you'd done... till it was too late.
What we've done, okay?
Remember that. What we've done.
And here's the thing about what we've done.
Oh, thank you. Thank you.
Left to yourself, you'd still be on a barstool... thinking about how it could be done... if somebody had the balls to do it. Which is me.
Don't poke, Vic, okay? I get it.
I know that. I know that.
I know that, too.
All right, I gotta get out of here.
So, I'll meet you at the Velvet Touch at 1:00.
Just like we planned, all right? Who was that?
Not that it's any of your fucking business.
That was my wife.
Thank you. Thank you, sweetie.
The lovely Gladys, of whom you've heard me speak over the years... with tenderness and affection.
She was wondering if I'm gonna be home... in time for midnight worship.
I thought that's who you were... Oh, having dinner with? No, no.
See, Gladys is on the Subway Diet.
She has a couple of foot-longs at lunch, couple at dinner.
Buys her clothes from Omar the Tentmaker.
But perhaps I'm being unkind.
Anyway, let me out of here.
Hey, Vic. Yeah?
If you wouldn't mind, you know, in case we get separated... tell me where the money is.
Excuse me, Mr. Arglist.
He's something else. Yeah.
Mr. Arglist, I wonder if I might have a word?
Mr. Arglist, I'm sorry to bother you.
I believe you can help us.
Peter Van Heuten is a friend of yours, right?
He's in no shape to drive...
Charlie fucking Arglist!
Yo ho ho, mo-fo! What are you doing here, man?
Hiya, Pete. Merry Christmas!
It's good to see you! Good to see you!
What are you doing here, man? The real people are in there.
Let's go in here.
Everybody, I want you to meet... Listen up, a friend of mine...
This is Charlie Arglist, the most talented and handsome... mob lawyer in all of Kansas.
I really wish you wouldn't do that. Come on.
Come on. That was Vic Cavanaugh you were hanging out with back there.
So what? Hey, let me ask you a question.
Is it true that one time... he cut the hand off of somebody who stuck their fingers... up the twazzallah of a dancer over at Tease-O-Rama?
Look around at the bar.
Do you see a lot of one-armed men in here?
Because if they chopped off the hand... of every guy who tried that with a stripper... half the men in Wichita would be wearing hooks.
Are you trying to tell me that these are just normal guys you work for?
What are you doing here?
Trying to get my ashes hauled, like everybody else!
Noél, Joyeux Noél!
It's all right. He's drunk.
Sarabeth isn't performing that function anymore?
Did she do that for you oftentimes... throughout your saga?
Occasionally. Not very often.
Is she still wearing flannel to bed?
I thought, until I met and married Sarabeth... that it was only little children... who wore those things with the feet sewn on the bottom.
You could have warned me about that.
And I'm actually being kind of serious here.
I tried to, Pete. I really did.
Yeah, bullshit. I was the end of your alimony problem.
That's what I was. Like hell. You were in love.
With my wife.
Someday somebody is going totally up the cost... of that particular illusion.
Did you ever go and...
The strippers? Yeah, occasionally.
Yeah? Yeah, sure.
When I'm really desperate... or completely shit-faced, or generally have my head up my ass.
I'm all those three things right now, baby. Let's go!
So how you doing otherwise, buddy?
Great. Great. Really great.
Drawing a lot of buildings. Making a fucking fortune.
Well, listen. I gotta make a phone call.
If you just hold down the fort here and remain calm.
Big mob lawyer.
Sweet Cage. Sidney, is Renata back yet?
No. She just called. Said she's on her way.
All right, listen... when she gets back, you tell her I have that present... that I mentioned for her earlier and not to leave.
Mr. Arglist. Councilman.
I wonder if we might have a quiet word.
Actually, I'm kind of...
Would you be good enough to deliver a message from me to Mr. Guerrard?
Wichita is a community of good people, Mr. Arglist.
Yeah, half of them are in this very bar trying to get laid.
That may well be. But my point is, some time ago... in a moment of weakness, I did a very foolish thing.
And that foolish thing was photographed.
I believe that photo is in the possession of a Mr. Vic Cavanaugh... an associate of yours, who refuses to surrender it... despite several generous offers for its purchase... the last of which, delivered not 10 minutes ago.
People can be stubborn.
Do you think Mr. Guerrard would be able to persuade Mr. Cavanaugh... to reconsider if he understood his own interests in the matter?
Well, Mr. Guerrard is one of the most persuasive men I know.
What kind of figures are we talking about here?
Are we talking about four? Five? Six?
Five, Mr. Arglist. Low five.
Councilman, I think the photo in question... might be closer than you can possibly imagine.
You've given me hope, Mr. Arglist. Merry Christmas.
Wonderful season, isn't it? 50 full of mutual understanding.
You gotta know the whole culture is in the toilet... if a guy dressed like that can get laid in a place like this.
Hey, you're flipping off the mob here, just so you know.
Did I mention to you that I really wish you wouldn't do that?
M-O-B, mob. Okay? All right, let's go.
Right back at you, huh?
And there, that one, too. There, see?
That's my chair in there.
You wanna know the truth?
I can't fill it.
Neither could I, if it makes you feel any better.
Before we go in, there's something I have to tell you.
It's been on my conscience, and you can punch me if you want to.
I don't think I'm gonna want to.
Back when you and Sarabeth were still married that last year... she and I were fucking.
Like minks. Everywhere. Kitchen table, your bed, garage.
Jesus, Charlie, we were friends.
It doesn't make you angry?
Actually, it makes me curious.
Makes me wonder who she's fucking now.
Yo ho ho! Merry fucking Christmas!
Guess who I brought with me? Ghost of Christmas Past.
Marley! Get the fuck in here.
Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas.
Come in and have a piece of pie.
Hi, Dottie. No, thank you. I'm fine.
I just wanted to stop in and wish you all a very merry...
Screw the pie, you old harpy. We're here for dinner.
Turkey, cranberry, stuffing, the works!
Yeah. Motherfucker. Yeah.
What did you say, Stan?
You two are pathetic. Makes me ashamed to be a man.
I'm pathetic? I'm pathetic?
Who paid for that hip replacement... your insurance company wouldn't cover, huh?
Dad, tell me that!
And who took care of your mortgage payments when you were recuperating?
And when you're done with that... maybe you could explain to me who it was... raised his only daughter... to be a cold, gossiping, hypocritical bitch!
So, Spence, how you doing? Go to hell.
Don't you talk to your father that way.
He's not my father. He didn't even send us presents this year.
I hate his guts.
Is that right, Charlie?
You didn't even send them any Christmas presents?
No. Christmas is tomorrow.
Guess what, Daddy? I was in the Christmas play.
All you were was Tiny Tim's sister, and you didn't even have any lines!
And he didn't even come to watch!
He would have, but Mommy didn't send an invitation!
I'm sorry, Charlie, but maybe you should go now.
And perhaps you would give Pete a ride home?
Sarabeth and the children will be staying here tonight.
Listen, sweetie, I'm gonna go... and I'm going to come back and visit you tomorrow, all right?
Don't believe him, Melissa. He's lying. All he ever does is lie.
Merry Christmas, Charlie.
On the whole, I thought that went well.
Yeah, it's good to see the family.
What do you say, one more drink? The night is young.
All right, one more, that's it. Okay. One more.
Melissa really misses you.
Not Spencer. He hates me.
You just gotta give him time. He'll come around.
Your leaving came at an awkward age for him.
A clean break is best.
No, a clean break is easiest. On you.
Are you saying you have no regrets?
Don't believe in them.
Bullshit. Everybody has regrets.
Guys our age, what else is there?
I ever tell you my father was a twin?
Looked a lot alike, though, him and my uncle.
Different temperaments completely.
My father, he's a cop.
Believed in the law. Wanted his only son to be a lawyer.
Drank in moderation, didn't smoke.
Kept up his life insurance premiums.
Voted in every election, not just for president.
Let me guess. Uncle didn't vote.
He said he didn't want to encourage the bastards.
In and out of jail from the time he was 16... drunk all the time, fucked everything that walked.
Won a fortune playing poker, lost it all the same way.
Lost an eye in a fight. Half his life...
So what you're trying to say is, you take after your uncle.
I wasn't finished.
My father was 54... when he died of a massive embolism, right here in Wichita.
My uncle died the very next day... in a car wreck in California.
So the point is... it is futile to regret.
You do one thing, you do another...
I mean, so what?
What's the difference? Same result.
How many of these lights you gonna sit through?
See if I tell you another fucking story.
Sorry, guys, we're closed.
We just want one drink. Each.
My friend's a mobster. You might know that, you might not.
I'll tell you what. I'll give you one, on the house... if you drink it up and leave.
But I'm not opening my register back up.
Thank you, gorgeous.
Do you know where this last drink is going to take me?
To that perfect stage of drunkenness.
And then, do you know what I'm going to do?
I'm going to go straight home, go to bed, and dream of you.
I don't think I'd pursue that particular line.
You with him? Yeah.
Makes no difference. It's okay.
It's a free country.
And any man can dream anything he wants to dream.
And tonight I'm gonna dream of you.
All right, I gotta make a phone call. I'll be right back.
Okay, behave yourself.
Sweet Cage. Sidney, is Renata back yet?
No. Not yet.
But you won't believe who just walked in.
Roy Gelles? No. Forget Roy Gelles, will you?
That fucking guitar player.
The one who gave Rusti the black eye.
What's going on?
I swear to God... if he gives Rusti any trouble, I'm gonna break his fucking fingers.
What's your name, jock strap?
Which hand should I break?
I don't have the answer to that question, Sidney.
Listen, when Renata gets back in, just tell her-...
I know. You got a present for her.
I hope you don't think she's gonna fuck you, Charlie.
Think it's out of the question? Absolutely.
Merry Christmas, Sidney.
Yeah. Merry Christmas, Charlie.
Would you like to know what you're going to be wearing... in my little dream? Disregard him.
That fish necklace, and that's it.
Completely disregard him tonight. He's drunk.
Except for that necklace, you're gonna be one naked little Christian.
Pete, not that you're asking for my advice... but, listen, I would shut the fuck up right now.
Hey. Sporty Nuts. Pete.
If you don't get laid tonight, fish necklace or no... it's 'cause you're not trying, my son.
Pete, I hope you're listening to me.
And if you play your cards right... this hot-assed little Jesus freak... just might initiate you into the Campus Crusade for Cunnilingus.
Do you notice that I am practicing non-violent resistance... in honor of the Christmas holiday?
Because that's the way... baby Jesus would have wanted me to do it.
That was unpleasant. I think I scraped my tummy.
Oh, my nuts.
I got it. I got it.
You sure? I got it.
Jesus Christ, Pete, you had the whole goddamn parking lot.
Why did you have to throw up in the car?
I think that boy drove one of my testicles up into my body cavity.
Are you sure?
I don't know where else it could be.
Okay, bounce me.
Now, three times fast. Three times fast!
If you're trying to shake the money out of his pockets... you gotta turn him upside down first.
Think that did it.
One, two. Yup.
We did it.
You have a good night, Mr. Arglist.
Good night, now.
Take me home, buddy. I know my limit.
You are home, for Christ's sake, Pete.
Pants, pants, pants.
I got it, I got it, I got it.
Do you remember when you used to live here?
Do you remember? Yeah. I remember.
This used to be your house. Come on.
I got it, I got it, I got it.
I know the way.
Are you sure? Buddy, I got it.
All right. I got it, okay.
I thought I had it.
But I didn't.
I didn't have it.
Man still down.
Man remains down.
Get some rest, pal.
Stop! Stop it!
Oh, my God!
Hi, Rusti. Is Renata inside?
Charlie, did you meet Donny? Ronny.
Yeah. Donny had this giant crush on me back in high school.
Only I had no idea.
We had two classes together, chemistry and something else.
We can't remember.
Anyway, so we're talking... and remembering old times, and guess what?
We're getting married.
Great. Oh, God!
Listen. Let this night be a reminder to you... when you think about using her as a punching bag. All right?
All right? Don't... All right?
Sidney. All right.
You do hear that siren, right? Yeah, yeah.
Look, Charlie, my blood was up, you know?
My mother's always telling me I need to work on my anger.
Channel my energies into something more positive.
Makes me want to slap her silly.
Jesus Christ, Sidney, you don't hit your mother, do you?
Charlie, I'm talking about desires here, that's all.
Urges and shit.
Anyway, I gotta 90. Gotta pick up the kids.
We're going to Six Flags tomorrow.
Is she back? Oh, yeah.
She's gonna be pissed at me 'cause I'm leaving early.
That's okay. I got something for her, to cheer her up.
Damn. You can read the fine print on the lubricant.
I didn't know you smoked. I don't.
I guess I thought you'd be happier. Happy?
I'm fucking ecstatic. Can't you tell?
And in return for this, you want exactly what?
Charlie, I've been hearing weird things about you all night.
Like waiving stage rentals over at the Tease-O-Rama.
Comping dancers' drinks? Not like you at all.
And now this.
Oh, my God.
You are leaving town.
Have you and Vic been dipping into the till?
Steal from Bill? That would be crazy.
Well, then there's only one other possible explanation.
You're in love with me.
I've always liked you.
Tell you what. What?
Give me 45 minutes to close up, then meet me at my apartment.
I forgot. Vic called.
Said to tell you that you were right and he was wrong.
Something about a guy you thought might be looking for you.
Yeah? He is.
This was when?
About half an hour ago.
Vic said for you to meet him at the Velvet Touch as soon as you can.
You sure nothing's going on? Not a thing.
Don't forget to come back, okay?
Harder. Oh, yeah.
Vic, hate to interrupt!
Come on, Vic.
Keep going. Keep going.
Fuck! Oh, fuck.
Ouch, that had to hurt. Yeah, it sure did.
What were you doing?
I was gonna be sick, but now I'm okay.
Yeah, it's my ex-wife's. It's a long story.
You don't look too good.
You want me to call somebody to come get you?
No, no, I'm fine. I'm headed home anyway.
Okay, Mr. Arglist. You go home and get some sleep.
And don't forget to put in a good word for me with Mr. Guerrard.
I will, Officer. Officer what?
But it's pretty close, though. Yeah.
All right, tell you what. When you go home...
I don't think I'd come back out again tonight, if I were you.
No, I probably won't. Good night to you.
Happy holidays. Okay. All the best.
You were right. Vic and I have been skimming.
I think Roy Gelles must have found out... and I think he might have killed Vic.
So, I was thinking it might be best if I left town.
I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.
You have the money? What?
Which- - The money we're talking about.
That you and Vic have been skimming.
Try to keep up, okay?
No. Vic had it.
So, your idea is that we should run away together and be poor?
I thought I'd give it a shot.
Here's the thing, though.
Roy wouldn't have killed Vic unless Vic told him where the money was... which means Roy has it now.
Well, why don't you sneak up behind him... and hit him over the head with something and take it?
Me? You want me to sneak up on Roy Gelles?
Charlie, think of this as your defining moment.
This is your chance to be something more.
Like a murderer?
This is your chance to start over, Charlie.
Our chance, if that's what you want.
If that's what I want.
Listen, I just gotta ask you one thing.
I didn't have a specific question planned.
Gladys, it's me, Charlie Arglist.
Gladys, where is Vic?
It's a sweet thought, Charlie. But she's already dead.
Jesus Christ, you scared the fuck out of me!
I thought you were dead! I thought Roy killed you.
Well, he was going to.
But he got sidetracked. You should have been there.
He actually threatened to shoot Gladys... if I didn't tell him where the money was.
But I think he was counting... on a level of commitment and affection between her and me... that just simply wasn't there.
Where is he now?
Follow me. You're gonna love this.
You still alive in there?
You didn't asphyxiate yet, did you?
Come a little closer, so I can talk to you.
What's that, Roy?
Jesus fucking Christ!
Damn it, I took his gun.
Guess he must have another one.
Is that you, Arglist?
When I get out of here, I'm gonna kill you.
You do know that, right?
Roy, you must be one fucking optimist... if you think you're ever getting out of that trunk.
Let me out, Arglist. I'm your only hope.
Actually, you just told me you'd kill me if you got out, Roy.
I didn't mean it. Sounded like you did.
I was just pissed off.
It's cramped in here and I'm claustrophobic.
Come on. Give me a hand.
Wanna go to the trunk?
Already tried it. Let's go to the back seat.
That's one big motherfucker.
One, two, three!
Oh, God damn.
We're gonna have to take the door off.
It's not gonna fit. You want me to get the Mercedes?
Mercedes? What Mercedes?
My ex-wife's. It's a long story. Don't ask.
There is no way that this thing is gonna fit... in a piece-of-shit Mercedes if it don't go in a Lincoln.
No, they're surprisingly spacious, Vic.
I'm offering you a deal, Arglist.
Jesus fucking shit. Give me something.
Don't be an idiot. God damn it.
Fucking shut up!
Shut the fuck up in there!
You just keep your fucking mouth shut, okay?
Piece of fucking shit! God damn it!
You keep that up, you're gonna spring the lock.
What the fuck were you thinking? Why didn't you just shoot him?
And then you could have put him in the trunk... and you wouldn't need that footlocker.
Because I want the pleasure of seeing his big ass... sink to the bottom of Lake Bascombe! That's why!
Hey, Roy. Roy?
I can't wait for you to feel the icy water... seeping into this trunk... shriveling your balls before you drown!
What if he's reloaded?
Well, he's folded up in there like a card table.
How the hell is he gonna reload?
I don't know, Vic.
She could never do anything right.
Nothing. I just thought you were gonna put Roy in the trunk.
The footlocker might not fit in the back seat, is all.
You're the one been going on... about how spacious these fuckers are.
And now you're saying it won't fit?
It might. I'm not sure, is what I'm saying.
One night driving a Mercedes, and already you're an asshole.
Come on, help me get this thing.
Ow! God damn it!
If I could open the fucking door...
Jesus, Charlie, you're right. This thing is spacious.
There's no way it would have gone in a Lincoln.
Give me the key. Oh, yeah.
All right. I gotta get my shit.
Whose thumb is this?
Oh, yeah. Good news, Roy. Charlie brought your thumb.
So, you think you're going to go back to Florida?
You know, I've been thinking about that.
Maybe you shouldn't tell me where you're going... and I shouldn't tell you where I'm going.
I just think it's safer that way.
He's going to kill you, Arglist. That's where you're going.
It's the truth, Arglist!
Think about it.
Pay no attention to the man in the trunk.
He's got a gun, Roy. He could shoot me now if he wanted to.
He needs your help to unload the car.
Once he's deposited me and his missus in the lake... you're next.
You know what, Roy?
One more word out of that trunk... and I'm gonna shoot it at both ends.
Because the truth is, I can't remember which end your head's at.
You know, the fact of the matter is, I should shoot you.
What were you doing in there tonight?
What are you talking about? You're waiving stage fees... you're comping drinks, being nice to people.
You may as we” wear a fucking sign that says:
"Hey, I just stole a shitload of money and now I'm blowing town."
For Christ's sake... Calm down! It's Christmas.
Everybody's nice on Christmas.
No, Charlie. No. Only morons are nice at Christmas.
And that's a lot of people, too, Charlie.
Especially in Kansas. But not everybody.
What kind of man shoots his own wife... in the back of the head on Christmas Eve?
Roy, he already knows that you shot her, okay?
That's what he told you, Arglist?
What the hell do I want to shoot his wife for?
Bill Guerrard knows about this whole deal, Arglist.
That's not what you said earlier, Roy... when your thumb was in the vise.
You'll never make it out of Wichita.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but did I not warn that asshole... to shut the fuck up?
You told him. You got one chance, Arglist...
That's right. I told him. Take the wheel.
And that's me. Take the fucking wheel!
Think about it!
Well, I guess that was the head end, huh?
Where's the thumb?
The thumb, where's the thumb?
Thank you, sir.
There she is.
It's kind of beautiful out here, huh?
All right, give her a shove.
We”, come on. Open the fucking door and help me with this goddamn thing.
What do you think we're here for? Come on.
Hang on! It's caught.
Now toss it over. Come on.
For fuck's sake, Charlie, come on.
Fuck, this is heavy.
It says, "Keep off."
All right, ready? Let's go.
Think I'd rather push.
Okay, fucking push. I don't give a shit.
You're in the way, Charlie.
Okay, let's go. Ready? Yeah.
It's falling apart.
You know what? Put it up on its end.
Just shove it up.
I mean, it's as deep here as it is any place else.
Just throw the fucking thing over.
God damn it, Roy. That was just blind fucking luck, you asshole.
Give me a hand, Arglist. I'm all stiff.
Now, as promised.
Well, Roy, the good news is, you're out of the trunk.
The bad news is, you're down four quarts of blood... and your gun's empty.
I'm going to kill you anyway.
Here, hold this.
That's an unrealistic goal, Roy.
You're dead, Roy.
Don't just stand there pretending you're not.
Jesus Christ, Charlie!
Throw me a rope or something. I can't swim!
I'm thinking, no.
You were gonna kill me, right, Vic? You asshole!
Jesus, you're stupid!
All right, that's it! Fuck you!
Look, okay, I'm sorry!
Charlie, I'm sorry!
I'm going to throw the gun away! Look!
Oh, God, you have no idea how cold this water is.
So long, Vic.
Don't you want to know where the money is?
I know where the money is. It's in the back seat of the Benz.
Not a chance! Not a chance.
I'm done talking to you, Vic. I'm through listening to you.
If you don't believe me, look for yourself!
Only hurry! Hurry! I can't feel my legs!
I'm dying here! I'm dying!
Charlie! God damn it!
I know what I did was wrong! But, Jesus! Fuck!
I'm shot, Charlie. I can't pull myself up!
Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be his name, because...
We are kingdom come, and will be done... and give us every day... our bread, because we gotta eat...
Charlie, is that you? Charlie!
I knew it. I knew it. You're a good man, Charlie.
You're a good man.
Vic, I wouldn't want you to die alone.
Vic! Vic, hold on!
Hold on, Vic.
Is that all?
Do you have any kids? No.
Then shut the fuck up. Bag it.
Hello. Charlie? Renata.
I'd just about given up.
I fucked up.
What about Roy Gelles?
He's dead, too.
Why don't you come over?
I'll wait here for you. The front door's open.
No. I don't see the point. I mean...
I don't have the money.
Vic died before he told me where it was.
You know what? Money isn't everything.
You know what I said before? It's true, isn't it?
You're in love with me. Yeah.
Sure. I guess.
I've still got to ask you something.
I don't have it yet. I'm sorry.
But you're coming over? Yeah. Sure.
Take me with you, man. Oh, fuck.
Jesus, Pete. No, I mean it.
Take me with you, buddy.
I can't do my life, man. I can't do it.
Just get some rest.
I hate myself. I want a new life.
You don't want mine. I really do.
I'm in trouble.
I'm in big fucking trouble.
But that'd be great. Don't you see?
We go out in a blaze of glory.
Like men. Like men, Charlie.
No goddamn life left for men anymore.
This country, all that's left for men is money and pussy.
But together, you and me together...
Don't you think?
Come on. Hurry up.
Bill Guerrard is around here somewhere.
Where is he?
Hide behind the door and shoot him when he comes in.
You don't happen to have any bullets for this, do you?
Shotgun behind the bar.
"As Wichita falls..."
"so falls Wichita Falls."
I like that.
And I'm gonna give your pussy-whipped pal Arglist... another 15 minutes to rescue your sweet ass.
After which time I'm going to assume his brain overruled his pecker.
Well, Bill, that's just not enough time.
He lives way across town.
Yeah? Well, that's your bad luck. I should be home in Kansas City... watching my kids open their Christmas presents!
Now I gotta waste the whole fucking day... looking for that nitwit!
I'll never understand lawyers.
I mean, here they've got a license to steal from the general public... all legal and aboveboard, but is that enough?
Fuck, no! They gotta steal from their friends!
Anybody but a fucking lawyer... would consider the consequences, right?
That I would, for an absolute certainty... castrate that son of a bitch with a butter knife.
And that would give a normal person pause.
But not a lawyer.
It defies the imagination, you know.
How a woman like you could throw in with a couple of farthammers... like Cavanaugh and Arglist.
Cavanaugh, he doesn't have the brains... to pull off something like this.
And Arglist, he doesn't have the guts.
Maybe that's where you came in, huh?
What did you do?
Did you encourage them both?
Suppose you do luck out... and you get clear of Wichita with all that money.
At some point... you're gonna have to get rid of at least one of the peckerwoods.
And then what do you got?
A click with no brain?
Or a brain with no dick?
You know what, Bill?
You seem awfully tense.
And I have this idea of what might help you relax.
You do, huh?
That you, Arglist?
Drop the gun.
Step away from the desk and put your hands up.
Charlie, don't be a fucking idiot.
You've been watching too many stupid old movies.
Why would I drop my gun?
I don't know, Bill.
Because I got a big fucking shotgun... and I'll blow your head off?
Well, if you could do that, you'd be me... and I'd be a pissant lawyer with a case of the shakes.
Jesus, Charlie, just shoot him!
If he was gonna pull the trigger... he'd have done it when he came through the door, girlie.
It's something they don't teach you in law school.
Which is a shame, because...
Get his gun, Charlie.
Get his gun.
He's dead, Renata.
The fuck he is! Sidney loads that with birdshot!
Why would he? I mean... Charlie.
From a liability standpoint, that doesn't make any sense at all.
Well, Arinst... now you've truly gone and shit in your nest!
All right, girlie. You first.
Mr. Guerra rd?
What's going on?
I don't know why I even bother with Kansas.
Do I hear an "amen"?
My old man tried to tell me... that I'd be better off starting a church... and letting Jesus pay for the mortgage... in this sorry-ass backwards state.
I wouldn't listen.
I put my faith in naked women and hand jobs.
Which have a proven track record everywhere but here.
And now I've been disfigured by a whisky-dick lawyer... who imagines he can kill me with a shotgun loaded for snake.
Serves me right.
That's all I can say.
All right, girlie... this is the one that's gonna kill you.
I will say, after this... the holidays are never gonna feel quite the same to me.
How's the foot? Shorter.
You don't happen to have any morphine... or Demerol or anything, do you?
I have to give you credit, Charlie.
You took your own sweet time rising to the occasion... but in the end, you did the deed.
'Deed you did.
You really came through, Charlie.
The odds were definitely against it, but somehow... you managed to be the last man standing.
I know what I wanted to ask you.
What? Where are you actually from?
Why do you keep asking questions, Charlie?
What's it got to do with anything?
I was just curious.
Wanted to know where you came from.
It's a long story, Charlie.
I think we've got plenty of time to get to know each other better.
Don't you? Yeah.
I guess we do.
It's just you and me now, Charlie.
To the victor go the spoils.
You saved my life, Charlie.
You're a different man, just like I promised.
Can you feel it?
Yes. I can.
What'd you do?
Oh! Damn stupid fuck!
You stupid fucking whore!
You dumb, dumb fuck!
Your mother again? Shit!
Hi, Charlie. Yeah. Who else?
Loans me her camper and fails to mention that it's out of gas.
If you've got a gas can, you can siphon some from me.
I don't want you to take this the wrong way...
but you're about the nicest guy I know.
I'm awfully sorry to hear that, Sidney, but thank you.
Have a good time with your kids at Six Flags.
What was that?
Morning, Pete. Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas, buddy.
Where are we?
We're in heaven.
They got pancakes? They got everything.