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what? |
here on your blotter. |
no! |
yup! |
you can't do that. really? is it opposite day already? uh... attention? |
hi, this is agent kane... |
and if you wanna have ball-slappy sex with me on cyril's desk... please line up and take a number. |
you heard the lady. take a number. |
eighty-sixed? uh-uh. you don't eighty-six me. because my dad won the navy cross. here's the door. |
help. |
please help me. |
my baby. |
he swallowed something, he's choking. |
oh, who gives a shit about a baby? |
who would want to raise a child here? |
well, that was a huge waste of time. |
i said don't take your clothes off. |
well. |
well! |
begged, even. |
okay, this is good to go. |
so was this. |
so let's get number two in here. |
you really think this is gonna work? |
pam, look at me. |
yeah... |
sploosh. |
now serving number two. |
i'm two. |
that's me! move, dude. |
animals. |
you're all just animals. |
lying in wait at the watering hole... |
taut buttocks all aquiver, just aching to pounce... on the supple brown flesh of your woman. |
shut up. |
they're gonna mess her up. |
why are you even here? |
hello. |
but you're gay. |
girl, please. |
nobody's that gay. |
wait, what? |
what, what? |
what part of you pay me 600 dollars do you not get? |
the part where we don't have sex? |
you get to say we did. |
which is, like, half the reason men have sex. |
but that's a lot of money. |
not compared to rotator cuff surgery. |
what? |
which you're gonna need after the jillion high-fives... |
you give your little bros. |
okay, i'm in. |
but first guy you tell is cyril. |
and make up the sickest... |
yeah, shut up, do you take plastic? |
five percent discount for cash. |
i thought it was ten. |
oh, oh, |
oh, i can't wet my beak? |
hey, seriously, kidnappers... super not in the mood for this right now. |
or that. |
what is that? |
is that a drill? |
okay, so. |
i don't want that. |
i make a klein hole in his skull with this. |
just shut that off. |
then into the hole i smoosh this. |
what is that? |
and then they can control his brain. |
but is soviet technology... |
so it's a crapshoot. |
this is amazing, no? |
what is amazing is we just ran into him on the street. |
it's a huge city. |
hey. hey! proposition. |
first person to untie me, guy or gal... |
i will let him or her give me a handy. |
ugh. |
let's share the milk of human kindness. |
what an asshole. |
don't worry, your time is coming. |
wait, by time do you mean me? |
and by don't worry, do you mean the chick's gonna be doing the handy? |
and either way, can we do it without that thing? |
hey, seriously. |
give me a hanjo. |
it doesn't work. |
i drill hole in head of man who maybe is my son. |
put chip in his brain... and now you tell me it doesn't work. |
you should have asked me before, you... see, in testing we have had teensy problem... with signal from satellite. |
when it is in small window just over the target... it can signal the chip. |
but when it exits this window. |
ahh. |
this problem does not sound teensy! |
it is compared to the problem we had... with interference from cell phones. |
which in lab sent test subjects into ferocious homicidal rages. |
so obviously we need to tweak it. |
damn that crazy, jealous russian. |