Bad Santa 2

What the fuck?

You think I want this piece of shit? Fuck you!

- Get away! - Fuck you!

Horny drunk!

Let's just say my whole life

has been one long fucking miserable nightmare most of the time.

And pure shit on a good day.

Goddamn it.

Yeah, I guess there have been a few dull bright spots here and there.

Fuck it.

Like a piece of ass who didn't look me in the eye

or wanna show me pictures of her fucking vacation.

Or a good drunk when I didn't choke on my own vomit.

- Ah! - I even almost had a friend once.

Sure, he was a mouth-breathing, snot dripping 8-year-old

who couldn't find his fat ass with both hands,

but he was clueless enough to think

I wasn't the worthless piece of shit everybody else thinks I am.

Including me.

I also found what was the closest thing I ever had to an actual girlfriend.

She liked the job I had at the time, especially while I was in uniform.

Sounds like a happy ending, don't it?

But, you see...

...you can only puke in somebody's lap so many times

before the romance takes a shit.

And the kid, he still creeps around every now and then

and I still chase him off

For his own good.

So you see, happy endings are bullshit.

Actually, there aren't such things as endings at all,

because when some shit gets over with,

some other whole thing starts that sucks ass.

Merry fucking Christmas.

Goddamn it.

Willie?

Willie? It's me, Thurman.

Willie, what are you doing? Did you get yourself stuck up there?

Okay, I'll go. But this package came to my house for you, Willie.

There's a lot of money in it. And a phone.

And a note.

What? Chair!

- Chair? - Chair!

Chair.

Give me the goddamn chair.

Willie, you fell.

Goddamn. Are you a complete fucking retard?

No. The Hungry Hoagies people tested me. I'm top of the spectrum.

So they made me a full-time sandwich consultant.

- Well, I'm glad you followed your passion. - What's that smell?

Is the oven on? Are you making Hot Pockets?

We do hot sandwiches at Hungry Hoagies now.

But I always burn my hand getting them out of oven.

Darlene says I should put butter on my hand, but that's stupid.

We only put butter on food. Hand isn't food.

I know we left on bad terms.

But you gotta understand, it was only business.

We were partners.

And I broke that sacred bond. It's not an excuse.

But Lois got all up in my kitchen.

Crazy bitch had me all turned around with her magical Laotian pussy.

- Don't blame it on the snapper. - I was pussy-blind. I'm ashamed.

You tried to murder me, you little prick. Remember that?

And not with some little nubbin-dick gun,

but with adult man-sized bullets.

- And now I'm here to make it up to you. - Why are you even out of the joint anyway?

Some pity case on account of you're a genetic defect?

You know, they used to sterilize guys like you.

Keep the world from becoming some Negro Land of Oz.

Shut the fuck up! Early release. Overcrowding.

Well, it must've been packed to the gills

if they couldn't cram your three-foot ass in there.

We got a job, Willie. That two grand is just to show I'm serious.

Can you still crack a safe?

Or did you get carpal tunnel from jacking off?

- I can crack just fine, thanks. - I'm talking millions this time.

- Where at? - Chi-Town.

I thought you were all done with the gooks.

Chicago, you racist moron fuck!

I got an associate out there who has got this thing all lined up.

- What associate? - I'm not at liberty to disclose just yet.

But they know your work.

And they want to bring us in and put us up in some fine-ass metropolitan digs

and finance the whole operation.

You're outta your fucking skull.

What are you gonna do? Try and kill yourself again?

That's none of your goddamn business what I do.

Don't let the door hit you in the ass.

Or I won't let it hit me in the ass. Whatever the fuck it is.

Did you even score once while I was away?

I'm talking two mil here.

That's a lot of fat-ass bitches and whiskey.

Fuck you.

Why do you have to go so soon? We just got back together.

Cut that shit out. We're not back together.

Guess you don't know what today is.

I don't even know what fucking year it is, kid.

It's my birthday.

- Today is your fucking birthday? - Uh-huh.

I'm 21 . Officially a man.

Goddamn. You're 21 already. That's creepy.

- Are you still gonna pop my cherry? - Am I gonna what?

No! Fuck no!

But you said that when I was 21 that you'd pop my cherry.

I said I'd get it done by somebody else.

Besides that, I'm a fucking guy. You didn't turn funny, did you?

Am I funny?

So you haven't done it with anybody yet.

Not a man or a woman or an animal or anything.

No, I waited for you.

- But surely, you jerked off or... - You mean masturbate, don't you?

Well, if you wanna be scientific, yeah, I guess so.

My friend Ronnie says,

it's when you play with your wiener and think about your mother.

I did it once, but it felt weird.

She's in heaven with God, you know. Watching me.

Okay, so here's how it's gonna go down. He's already asked me where his cherry is.

So you could tell him to put his dick in your purse

and he wouldn't know any fucking difference.

It's gonna be the easiest 20 bucks you ever made.

Twenty bucks?

You must be high on some strong shit, Willie.

A hundred. Or I'm gonna carry my ass outta this old piece of a room right now.

All right. Fifty, or I'll just go get your mother.

Sixty.

All right.

And nothing up my ass. You done took all that, Willie.

Okay.

Well, let's get to it. I gotta pick up my grandson from ballet.

- Can I fix you a sandwich? - No.

- I got your sandwich, baby. - Willie, I made you a sandwich.

I ain't sticking around. Just give it to Opal after.

Now, listen, here's how it works.

She's gonna pull her rig off. And she's gonna get on all fours.

Now, you stand behind her and drop your rig.

Then, you're gonna see something that looks like some kind of Japanese food.

It ain't, so don't eat it. That's the bulls-eye.

Then you just start tugging on your little soldier.

Wait till he gets to attention, then poke him in there.

Keep poking it in there till he spits up.

You're gonna need a raincoat.

She'll have one, so don't worry about that.

As soon as you're done, run to the bathroom, wash your crotch.

That way, you don't wake up wondering why you got oatmeal in your carpet.

Breathe through your mouth so that you don't puke.

Shouldn't be a problem for you. You got it?

- You got 60 bucks? - No.

- What you got? - I have $20.

Keep it down.

- I have 20. - Give it to her after.

- Later, Opal. - Mm-hmm.

Come on, baby. Come on.

Get a bite of this pumpernickel bread.

Damn it, Willie. Hurry up! We're gonna miss our train.

You see me walking backwards, asshole? I'm coming.

Kid, get over here and take your pants off.

No!

Ah, fuck.

Here's your ID.

- "Randall Cook"? - What the fuck wrong with that?

Randall sounds Irish. I want something whiter.

I'm Davis, you're Cook. End of fucking story.

You got one job this time. Open a safe.

Till then, just keep your drunken deviant fucking mouth shut.

You know what you need? You need some pussy.

I'll see if I can find you a cat somewhere.

Put that shit away.

"Giving City Foundation.

Bringing food and shelter to those in need."

Hold the fucking phone.