JETHRO JOHNNY: We ain’t gonna eat here at Denny’s, right?
PRETTY RUDY: Fuck Denny’s. Gordo says he’s bringing his jefita’s tamales for us.
(CAR STARTS.)
JETHRO JOHNNY: Can’t we swing by my chante first? I gotta wash this holding-cell funk off my body. San Leandro Sheriff Substation can suck a dick.
PRETTY RUDY: Gordo says we got to meet him first. Don’t get your thong in a bunch.
(MUSIC ON RADIO.)
JETHRO JOHNNY: I saw you limping. You got some leg disease?
PRETTY RUDY: Nah. Slipped and shattered my (unintelligible) kneecap.
JETHRO JOHNNY: Wrong, homeboy. You got a bad case of dick-do.
PRETTY RUDY: What the fuck is dick-do?
JETHRO JOHNNY: Medical condition. Where your belly sticks out farther than your dick do. (chuckles) You know it wouldn’t hurt to miss a meal, Sancho Panza. Guarantee your knee will thank you.
PRETTY RUDY: I can’t hear you, homeboy, you’re mumbling. Pull your pants down.
(LAUGHTER.)
JETHRO JOHNNY: What the fuck is this contraption?
PRETTY RUDY: I put my iPhone on there like this. Then I can listen to my music.
JETHRO JOHNNY: Oh, check you out. All modern an’ shit.
PRETTY RUDY: Gotta keep up with innovations to survive, qué no?
JETHRO JOHNNY: Right, right. The world is changing fast. No bullshit there.
PRETTY RUDY: Yeah, but the new world don’t always know ’bout the old tricks.
JETHRO JOHNNY: Can’t always see who’s hiding in the cuts.
PRETTY RUDY: Pleased to meet you. Hope you (unintelligible) my name.
(LAUGHTER.)
JETHRO JOHNNY: Devil’s one ambushing motherfucker. Gets my sympathy.
PRETTY RUDY: We ain’t puzzled by the nature of his game.
JETHRO JOHNNY: What puzzles me is what the fuck’s up with the world? I get locked up three months and terrorists hit Paris, San Bernardino, and them clown white boys’re holding fed property hostage in Oregon.
PRETTY RUDY: They’re on Facebook asking people to send them care packages of zoo-zoos and wham-whams.
JETHRO JOHNNY: Remember when we would send out SOS’s like that from prison?
PRETTY RUDY: Fuckin’ Donner Party 2.0. Them stupid motherfuckers. People calling them Vanilla ISIS.
JETHRO JOHNNY: (laughs hard)
PRETTY RUDY: No bullshit. Joking that these hillbillies gonna implement Shania law.
JETHRO JOHNNY: (coughing, laughter) Fuck! Funny motherfuckers out here.
PRETTY RUDY: Working with good material.
JETHRO JOHNNY: So why didn’t you get off at Golf Links Road? We’re going to the airport Marriott, right?
PRETTY RUDY: Nah, I said by the airport Marriott. Francesco’s parking lot across from the warehousemen’s hall. And I’m getting off at Keller, gonna get a Quality Doughnut.
(SOUND OF HORNS HONKING.)
JETHRO JOHNNY: That’ll work. This Snickers is good, but it ain’t no chocolate sprinkle doughnut.
(MORE HORNS HONKING.)
PRETTY RUDY: GET THE FUCK OUT THE WAY, STUPID MOTHERFUCKER! Look at this sleazy slope trying to turn left from the right lane.
JETHRO JOHNNY: These Panda NON-Express drivers turning the East Bay into chink-chink Beijing. Makes me miss my cuete.
PRETTY RUDY: YEAH, THAT’S RIGHT, BITCH! BACK THE FUCK UP!
JETHRO JOHNNY: I’d blast some Kung Pow BLAM BLAM right in her mascara. Put her out of YOUR misery.
PRETTY RUDY: Hold on — back to Y’all-Qaeda. Obama says that bullshit is a local law enforcement issue, not FBI?
JETHRO JOHNNY: Clever fucker wants to avoid another Waco or Ruby Ridge. Those white boy cops ain’t gonna do nothing but turn off the water and power, then sit and wait out the winter.
PRETTY RUDY: If I were Obama I’d drop in a planeload of life-sized cutouts of a twelve-year-old black boy with a BB gun — do it so they all land standing up, staring at all them white cops surrounding the joint.
JETHRO JOHNNY: You got a morbid mind.
PRETTY RUDY: Think about it. Get them lazy-ass cops all twitchy-fingered. Think of like a thousand of these motherfucking cutouts of a menacing little armed nigger staring at them.
JETHRO JOHNNY: Yeah, the militia would see them too, know they were ’bout to be blasted or even droned! They’d rush out that building hands in the air, be all like, Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Like them Black Lives Matter kids last year. Ironic like shit.
PRETTY RUDY: Think if 150 armed Black Panthers took over an office building in Yosemite the feds would call it a local issue?
JETHRO JOHNNY: I ain’t no friend of the nigger, but them motherfuckers ain’t got no play in this country. Not one fuckin’ drop of play.
(MUSIC...)
JETHRO JOHNNY: Remember how we used to go get that seafood pasta at Francesco’s after every hit?
PRETTY RUDY: Thought we were all fancy and shit.
JETHRO JOHNNY: Tradition stuck. When we start that anyway?
PRETTY RUDY: Sailor Boy, I think.
JETHRO JOHNNY: That was when?
PRETTY RUDY: I’d just got out of Folsom the third time. Beetle Bailey OD’d two days later. I needed (unintelligible), so Lil’ Samson recommended you.
JETHRO JOHNNY: ’96?
PRETTY RUDY: Yeah. Day before Christmas.
JETHRO JOHNNY: Fuckin’ Sailor Boy.
PRETTY RUDY: You mean fuck Sailor Boy!
JETHRO JOHNNY: You mean fuck his firme wife.
PRETTY RUDY: Hey, what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.
JETHRO JOHNNY: Virgie Ledesma. Smokin’-fine rack. And you got to rub your shitty little dick between ’em.
PRETTY RUDY: He who smokes a worthless piece of shit gets to dick down his smokin’-hot wife.
JETHRO JOHNNY: Lucky dog.
JETHRO JOHNNY: Sailor Boy didn’t go easy.
PRETTY RUDY: They rarely do. Body wants every last breath.
JETHRO JOHNNY: Dude fought till the end.
PRETTY RUDY: (unintelligible) Gotta respect the life force.
JETHRO JOHNNY: Hey, Burckhalter Elementary. Got my edumacation there. First tongue kiss too.
PRETTY RUDY: Yeah? What was his name? Hey, here’s Quality Doughnuts.
JETHRO JOHNNY: Her name was Marta Muñoz, and you’re buying me a glazed. I’ll stay in the car.
(CAR DOOR SLAMS. CELL PHONE BEEPS.)
JETHRO JOHNNY: Hey, so you got that for me?... Good. Wait till we’ve been there a minute, then bring the bag. Hide the gun in the bottom. Stay on point. This is the big leagues, youngster... Okay, listen, I gotta go. You do this, you earn your bones. (unintelligible) Just make sure you’re there!
(MUSIC...)
(CAR DOOR OPENS. BEEPING. DOOR SLAMS.)
PRETTY RUDY: Here’s your doughnut.
JETHRO JOHNNY: Hey, you remember that time you were in Corcoran and I got the green light to take out Boxer?
PRETTY RUDY: Boxer from Varrio Nuevo? Or Boxer from Logan Heights?
JETHRO JOHNNY: You Alzheimer’s motherfucker: Boxer from White Fence!
PRETTY RUDY: Oh yeah. And?
JETHRO JOHNNY: I made that move with my homeboy Silent from Stockton.
PRETTY RUDY: What a fucked-up placaso! Who lets themselves be nicknamed Silent?
JETHRO JOHNNY: Um... ya know... men with fragile-ass names like Pretty Rudy shouldn’t trip down nickname lane with attitude.
PRETTY RUDY: Pretty Rudy works cuz I’ve got twelve bodies buried around the state, most of ’em in prison cemeteries. But Silent, c’mon, even you gots to know that’s a jacked name.
JETHRO JOHNNY: Dude was a killer too. The name works for that, right?