Give 'em Hell, Malone

Getting shot's never easy.

Bullets tend to hurt, a lot.

If they go straight through, fine.

That you can deal. It's messy, and it's over soon.

Sometimes they take care of themselves.

Sometimes they need a hand.

But if they glance off a bone, get up in the ribcage,

they tend to bounce around your insides

like dice in a backgammon cup.

Getting knifed isn't any better.

Even if you're dealing with a pro.

Someone who severs a carotid artery.

Punches one through the heart.

You'll be lucky if the lights go out inside three minutes.

Funny thing is,

sometimes these punks take care of my business for me.

Without even knowing it.

My name's Malone.

In my line of work you have to knife before you're punched

and shoot before you're knifed,

because there's one golden rule that can never be broken.

Once you're dead, you stay that way.

Oh, fuck!

Okay, okay, okay! You win!

All right?!

Hey, look. There's my gun, all right?!

You can have it. I'm coming out now, so don't shoot!

So, don't shoot!

Look, there's my gun. So, you can take it.

I'm cool, man. All right?

I'm cool.

Cool, huh?

Mine. See you in hell.

Shit!

I got the case! I got the case!

Fuck!

Some men are harder to kill than others.

Fortunately, I'm one of the hard ones.

Woah!

Fuck me. Shit.

Hey! Walk away, wino!

Fucking drunk!

Ow!

Walk it off!

Pink? Goddamn, Pink.

Ta-da!

God, Malone!

Whoa!

Don't worry, kid. I'll get your keys back.

Thank you.

Here's your keys, kid.

Try to keep the screaming down. It upsets the other guests.

Listen, I know there are millions of women

out there watching right now.

They get asked out by that guy, they're afraid to say no.

But they're just all so terrified they're gonna get stuck

on a two-hour long date with somebody that's just really creepy.

What is proper etiquette for, you know,

giving someone a brush off these days?

Wow. Well, the proper etiquette is...

Mom?

Why, why are you yelling? I'm right here.

Hey, Ma.

Malone!

Hey, Ma.

Ow, ow, ow! Not so hard, Ma.

You were supposed to come by last week.

Esther's granddaughter was here. She looks fertile, Malone.

Wow. You got a hell of a way of selling a gal.

Maybe you should start writing personals.

Maybe I will. Not that I could sell you.

You look like hell.

What did you do? Get in another fight?

Ugh. Fight's when the other guy has a chance.

Oh, ever since you were 6, you were fighting with the other boys.

Fights at the playground. Fights at the bike racks.

-Ah, to do no harm. -Oh, no, no, no.

-Easy. Whoa, Mom. -What's step one? What's step--?

Buckle your shoe.

Hey, Ma. Come on. I deserve it.

You deserve a smack across the face. That's what you deserve.

Now, say it with me. I admit I'm powerless over alcohol.

I admit I'm powerless over alcohol.

And my life has become unmanageable.

See how unmanageable your life has become.

You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone, Malone.

If you weren't so hardheaded, you'd know that by now.

Say it again, Ma.

You're hardheaded. It's a family curse.

Oh, no. Before that.

You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone?

Right now, I've got it.

What the hell were those guys killing themselves over?

Don't mumble, Malone. It makes you sound uneducated.

What the hell would you throw yourself out a window for?

You threw yourself out a window?

No, Ma. A guy with a mustache.

Oh, please don't grow a mustache!

Your father did,

and it looked like a rat curled up and died under his nostrils.

You know, weaker men than you have dealt with tragedy without the booze.

How many bullets do I have to pull out of you

before you live again?

You know, you can quit the booze. You just need support.

Someone to prop you up and help keep you on your feet.

Malone?

Well, I guess I should be grateful.

If it wasn't for these lovely shoot-outs, I wouldn't see you at all.

It's her birthday tomorrow. Buy her something nice.

Sir, I'm gonna need to see some I.D.

Ugh!

Next time there's a new guy,

tell him let the big, bad, black motherfucker go.

There's a blot on this city.

It's as if God came along, hiked up his robe,

and took a big holy shit right on top of downtown.

Or, maybe it was you, Boulder.

You're nearly as big as, you know --

Ah, it wasn't me, Boss.

Well, the point is...

...the city has lost its sense of structure,

and without structure, without order, it's hard to be king.

I heard Stache's little pick up turned into a blood bath.

We had some uninvited party-goers, and he didn't get the case.

No.

Who did?

Malone.

Malone? Just one guy?

Well, go get him, Boulder. Go crush him.

Well, it's not that easy, Boss. Malone's hard. Real hard.

Word is he turned from private dick

to gun-for-hire after what they did to his family.

They killed his wife...

...his son, his brother...

...his brother's family...

...tried to stamp his gene pool into extinction.

Personally, I can't wait to hurt him.

Boulder, do you have any idea what Malone's probably done,

now that he has that case?

Opened it.

Goddamn right he's opened it.

And now that he's seen what's inside, I want Matchstick in on this.

You got a problem with that?

Boss, the guy's a sadist.

Little sadism might come in handy.

Speaking of sadism, call in The Mauler, as well.

The Mauler? Have you seen where she keeps her knives?

Boulder, you're a killer.

You're the bloodiest son-of-a-bitch I know,

and I pay you very well too, don't l?

Yes, sir.

But that's not why you do what you do, is it?

My wife's gonna pull out of it. I'm sure.

Then as long as you keep working for me,

I'll keep floating her medical bills.

I learned something early on in my career,

and I've never forgotten.

Men will work very hard for good money.

But they will absolutely kill themselves for love.

I'll find The Mauler.

And put Malone's face on a baseball card.

Wake up every thug in this entire city.

I want everyone to know I'm paying big money.

Five million dollars.

But, most importantly, get me that case.

Yes, sir.

And, Boulder... ripped out a man's heart and ate it?

The physics of punching through a man's sternum alone

make that an impossibility.

Next time, spare me the hyperbole.

Yes, sir.

Son of a bitch! Don't you ever knock?

What's this?

Was it just me, or were we paid a hundred grand

to recover what was inside the case, not just the case?

It was a set-up, Murph. They knew I was coming.

No way. No way. Not possible. I checked it all out.

I did my homework. It was legit. It was quiet.

Just you and the client.

I need to know who hired me, Murph.

Now, you know we follow a formula around here. Don't ask. Don't tell.

Nobody's the wiser.

What's a couple of bullet holes over a sound financial future, huh?

What was in the case?

You miss the part about it being a set-up?

What's wrong with you? I never seen you like this before.

What was in the case?

It was the meaning of love, Murph. Now, cry me a name.

You're looking at her.

Evelyn, Malone, Malone, Evelyn.

He's a swell guy. When he's not roughing people up.

I hope your man's better at delivering goods than looking pretty,

'cause he sure as hell ain't much of a looker.

Yeah, well, Evelyn, Malone was just telling me that he, uh,

ran into a little speed bump when he was picking up the case.

Said it was some sort of a set-up.

You were paid to get the case, not open it.

What did you do with what was inside?

Never mind about that.

I had ten goons trying to make me dead over that damn thing.