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What? | You've gotta understand something about me. I have a little rule, okay? Don't ever talk to her about me. Ever. I can't stand that kind of shit. |
As the fat renders, the tallow floats to the surface. Remember the crap they taught you in Boy Scouts. | Hard to imagine you in Boy Scouts. |
Hard to imagine you in Boy Scouts. | This clear layer in glycerin. We'll mix it back in when we make the soap. |
This does not belong to us. We are not the leaders. We are not special. | What are you doing?! |
What are you doing?! | We are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world. We are all part of the same compost heap... |
We are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world. We are all part of the same compost heap... | Tyler... |
What the hell ... ?! | You choose your level of involvement. I won't make decisions for you. |
You choose your level of involvement. I won't make decisions for you. | I'm not asking you to. |
I'm not asking you to. | You're asking questions that don't have answers. You know just as much about Project Mayhem as anybody else. |
You're asking questions that don't have answers. You know just as much about Project Mayhem as anybody else. | I don't think that's true. |
"Too young?" | If the applicant is young, we tell him he's too young. Old, too old. Fat, too fat. |
If the applicant is young, we tell him he's too young. Old, too old. Fat, too fat. | "Applicant?" |
"Applicant?" | If the applicant waits at the door for three days without food, shelter or encouragement, then he can enter and begin training. |
If the applicant waits at the door for three days without food, shelter or encouragement, then he can enter and begin training. | "Training?" Tyler... |
No! This isn't true. We... we were around other people, together, both of us... | You never talked to me in front of anyone else. |
You never talked to me in front of anyone else. | Wrong, wrong -- what about the car crash... the two guys in the backseat? |
Wrong, wrong -- what about the car crash... the two guys in the backseat? | What about them? They're lunatics. |
What about them? They're lunatics. | You took me to the house. |
You took me to the house. | The house is rented in your name. |
The house is rented in your name. | You have jobs. |
You have jobs. | Night jobs -- while you were sleeping. |
Night jobs -- while you were sleeping. | What about Marla? |
What about Marla? | What about Marla? |
What about Marla? | She's... you... you're fucking her. |
She's... you... you're fucking her. | Um, well... technically, no. |
What the fuck -- ? | Paraffin. |
Paraffin. | What? |
What? | Paraffin. Your merry band mixed the nitro with paraffin. I saw it floating in the bomb. |
Damn it! God-damn it... | Not exactly according to plan. |
Not exactly according to plan. | Do we have to do everything ourselves?! |
Who is this? | Maintenance. |
Maintenance. | Listen, something is going to happen, something terrible... |
Listen, something is going to happen, something terrible... | Very good, Sir. |
Very good, Sir. | Excuse me? |
Excuse me? | Don't worry about us, sir. We're solid. |
Don't worry about us, sir. We're solid. | Now wait, there's been a mix-up. Everything's changed... |
Now wait, there's been a mix-up. Everything's changed... | You told me you'd say that. |
You told me you'd say that. | Abort the plan. |
Abort the plan. | You told me you'd say that, too. |
You told me you'd say that, too. | Did I tell you I'd call you a fascist dickhead?! |
Did I tell you I'd call you a fascist dickhead?! | Well, sir, you said you might. |
He don't own this place, I do. How much money's he getting for this? | There is no money. |
There is no money. | Really? |
Really? | It's free to all. |
It's free to all. | Ain't that something? |
Ain't that something? | Yes, it is. |
Yes, it is. | Look, stupid fuck, I want everyone outta here now! |
Look, stupid fuck, I want everyone outta here now! | You're welcome to join our club. |
You're welcome to join our club. | Did you hear what I just said?! |
Did you hear what I just said?! | You and your friend. |
What do you want me to do? | Speed up. |
Speed up. | Yeah, fuck 'em. No offense. |
A mortician. He seemed to know a hell of a lot more about death than he ever told us. | Should we knock? |
Should we knock? | He probably already knows we're coming. |
Remember the onramp? There was a pregnant woman in a white delivery van. | Holy shit. He said "only new life can defeat death." If she gives birth to a baby that was never meant to be born, a brand new soul that was never part of Death's Design... |
The only reason he was on Route 18 was because he own the lottery and had to collect the winnings. | That lucky bastard. |
That lucky bastard. | What about the rest of you? Kimberly, you were driving to Daytona. Was Route 18 your first choice? |
A Trans Am. That shit went out with New Kids on the Block. | Yeah. Who does he think he is? Knight Rider? |
Yeah. Who does he think he is? Knight Rider? | Who? |
Look, you weren't there. It was weird. She knew that log truck was gonna cause an accident, she knew. Never mind. | I thought we were finished with this bullshit. This is police work, not the psychic Hot Line. |
First I'm stuck with Jury Duty, now this nonsense. | Yeah, I hate to love and leave ya, but I've been over this X-Files shit since the sixth season. |
Here's what I don't get. For nine months, Death does all this shit to make sure I win these tickets and end up on Route 18 at exactly the right time for the pile up... | Yeah? |
Yeah? | But why single me out? What am I in the great scheme of things? You'd think I stepped off Flight 180 or something... Fucking weird, man. |
New life defeats death? Follow the signs? Where the hell did you find that guy? | Yeah, I thought he was supposed to be helpful. |
Stop it, don't move him! | He can't breathe damn it. I think his lung's collapsed! |
What's the chance of finding a nice mature guy once we get to Daytona? | How does a nice mature fuck sound? |
Relax, you need to chill the fuck out. | Highway to Hell, Highway to Hell. |
Highway to Hell, Highway to Hell. | For Christ sakes girl, take a breath. |
You're all certifiable, you know that? I can't believe I've been listening to this crap. Come on, Tim, let's go outside. | Jeez, Mom, stop trippin'. |
Ahhh! fuck! You fucking asshole. You think this is funny, you fucking dick? Tod, if you're not dead I'm gonna fucking kill you! | Ohmygod! OHMYGOD! OHMYGOD! He's not dead? |
I'm not just layin' down a bunch of math here, with this. I'm talking about indications... omens... that day, that we were meant to die. That, if, we have been aware of... would have saved everyone on the plane. | That's total bullshit. You can find death omens anywhere you want to. |
What's your fuckin' worry? If it's not your time...? I could get nailed runnin' this red light and you all wouldn't get shit! Only me, right? | No! |
Fag. | C'mon, man, like you really thought you were gonna tittie fuck 'em over Greenland, or something? |
C'mon, man, like you really thought you were gonna tittie fuck 'em over Greenland, or something? | Because of you, I gotta sit here and watch fuckin' "Stepmom." |
You may not realize it, but we're all just a mouse that a cat has by its tail. Every single move we make, from the mundane to the monumental... the red light we stop at, or run; the people we have sex with, or won't with us; the airplane we ride, or walk out of... is all a part of Death's sadistic design leading to the... | Design? |
Get control of yourself! | That's what I'm doin'! |
That's what I'm doin'! | I know what you're doing! It's alright to be scared, Carter. You don't have to prove to us how big your balls are. Not now. |
I know what you're doing! It's alright to be scared, Carter. You don't have to prove to us how big your balls are. Not now. | I'm not afraid! I DECIDE WHEN IT'S TIME! I control my life! I control my death! |
I gotta tell you, it's just luck you guys came when you did. They move us around a lot... We only been at that camp a week. Got a smoke? | No. |
No. | What kind of raggedy-ass rescue you call this? |
You mean the snake? | Yeah. It's not hard once you get the hang of it. In the wrist. Anyway, I did what I always do when I get one... |
Yeah. It's not hard once you get the hang of it. In the wrist. Anyway, I did what I always do when I get one... | What's that? |
What's that? | Put it in the guard's barracks. Man they got pissed. They beat the crap out of me, but... it's kind of a tradition. You oughta see 'em run around. |
Hell. This is just like fucking Star Wars, man! | Star Wars? |
You fucking crazy? I need it to burn these things off. | No cigarettes. |
No cigarettes. | I had it cupped. |
Where did you find this clown? | I thought he was with you. |
I thought he was with you. | Crazy motherfucker. |
And how'd you sneak up like that? | Carefully. Don't want to get shot by you. Bad karma. Anyway, you need me. |
Carefully. Don't want to get shot by you. Bad karma. Anyway, you need me. | I do? |
I do? | You think you are... . |
You think you are... . | Invulnerable. |
Invulnerable. | In-vul-nerabo. But you get ass kicked without me. |
Rambo and Brewer were selected as write-offs. | It was clean. Very clean... Rambo was a decorated Vietnam vet, a former POW himself... if he came out and said "No POWs" the sub-committee would buy it. He gets himself caught he's a private citizen, a whacko, acting on his own. If he gets proof, it gets lost somewhere between here and D.C. Airtight. But no... Ramb... |
It was clean. Very clean... Rambo was a decorated Vietnam vet, a former POW himself... if he came out and said "No POWs" the sub-committee would buy it. He gets himself caught he's a private citizen, a whacko, acting on his own. If he gets proof, it gets lost somewhere between here and D.C. Airtight. But no... Ramb... | "Terminate with extreme prejudice." |
"Terminate with extreme prejudice." | That's a crock. We don't say that. Do you have any idea the shitstorm if he'd gotten back with that guy? If it went public? The White House would have to act through channels. We're talking ransom. Four billion bucks in war reparations to Vietnam to get the others back. That's billion, Colonel. With a "B". For a ... |
Who're you? | American. Come to get you out. |
American. Come to get you out. | Man, you are one scary-looking motherfucker! |
Man, you are one scary-looking motherfucker! | Can you walk? |
Can you walk? | I could a couple of days ago. Gonna be... stiff. |
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