Killer Condom (Kondom des Grauens)

Come, Phyllis. Come.

What are we doing here?

I thought you were taking me home.

Good evening, what can I do for you?

We would like a double room.

With a shower and toilet?

Yes, please.

Room 308.

Many thanks.

Come, Phyllis.

But...

Hello, Rebecca!

Hey, Robinson, do you have a room for me, too?

Loverboy wants to show me his dick.

Excuse me for asking, but...

Here in the hotel... surely you've got...

a condom machine or something?

There's rubbers upstairs on the bedside table.

They're on the house.

That's very considerate.

I'm sure you're wondering what all this is about, Phyllis.

You see, my dear, I'm afraid I lied this morning

when I told you that you passed all your exams.

You lied?

Yes, Phyllis.

In truth, you're nine points short.

Four in sociology and five in psychology.

But that's terrible.

No, no.

It's not terrible.

And do you know why?

Because I'm your examiner.

You're a hardworking girl, Phyllis.

You've earned your degree.

I'll take care of the nine points, nobody will know.

It will stay our secret.

But now, you have to do something for me.

I'm crazy about you, Phyllis.

- But teacher, sir... - For years, I've idolized you.

Take off your blouse, please.

You have no idea how much I've longed for this moment.

The years of suffering...

Don't touch me!

All right, then.

Of course, I don't want to force you into anything.

But you have to know

that under these circumstances, I can't accommodate you, either.

Your parents will be very disappointed, Phyllis.

But that's your choice.

Asshole.

Ah, you're coming to your senses, Phyllis.

That pleases me very much.

But don't cry, please.

Look, did you know

that hotels have free condoms?

What?

I'm sure this safer sex campaign is costing the government billions.

Now, lie back and relax.

But what --

This is a non-smoking elevator, asshole.

Stinks like an ashtray.

Good morning, detective.

- Hey, Mackeroni. The word on the street is

some pimp over on 42nd street put his mother-in-law

in the tumble dryer and threw it out the window.

You want the case?

- He needs a bottle of aspirin and a coffee first.

That's not my department.

Do you think I'm a fireman or something?

I think so, too. Yes, exactly.

Ah, well, well, well. If it isn't Mr. Mackeroni.

Good morning, Captain.

Don't change the subject!

If I send for you then move your ass getting here.

Is that clear?

It's my day off, sir.

You see those girls over there?

I thought I had already seen everything in this city,

but this takes the cake.

Was there a motive?

- No. The one on the left had some coke in her pocket

and the one in the middle stinks of eggnog.

Otherwise, they're clean.

- The fact is, they bit off their clients'...

genitalia.

There are four cocks in the lab, neatly lined up side by side,

but these girls are all playing dumb.

Did you say four dicks?

- Yes, there was a fourth girl.

Not a hooker, a well-behaved Oklahoma teenager.

There was blood all over,

and the penis jumped on the floor

and hopped under the bed --

This is your case, Mackeroni.

And I want a report on all this nonsense

by tonight at the latest, okay?

Is sex always like that?

Listen, we've been waiting for a half hour.

Why is our daughter being detained here?

- Sorry, we don't know exactly what's going on ourselves yet.

Oh my god.

Has anything happened to our child?

- No, don't worry, Phyllis is okay.

The whole thing is just...how should I put it...a little delicate. I don't...

Get to the point, man.

What happened to the girl?

- I don't mean to upset you, but Mister...

Look, Detective.

We didn't fly all the way from Farmville, Oklahoma, to New York City

to listen to your lame excuses.

Tell us what happened to our daughter,

or let me speak to your superintendent.

At a sleazy hotel,

in one of the worst areas of New York,

your daughter bit off her college professor's penis.

Cigarette?

What did you say?

Yeah.

It's a clear-cut case.

The door was locked from the inside. When we broke the door down,

Phyllis was sitting on the bed, screaming.

An unconscious man was lying on the floor

and under the bed, the officers found his penis.

- There must be some mistake.

That's impossible.

Detective!

It may comfort you to know

that such cases are not unusual in our line of work.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Four penises bit the dust in that hotel that night.

And on 42nd Street,

word on the street is someone put their mother-in-law in the tumble dryer

and threw her out the window.

Look, sir, this is New York.

The clocks tick a bit differently here than in Farmville, Oklahoma.

You better take Phyllis home with you,

or she'll start doing stupid things.

You know how teenagers are. Have to try everything.

I don't know what people see in this town.

I mean, there are a lot of guys who get this sparkle in their eyes

when they hear "New York."

New York, the city of cities, the absolute metropolis of the world.

Then they tell you about some shitty museums, galleries and restaurants.

I spent my childhood on the lonely,

crumbling Mackeroni estate in Sicily.

There was stillness, nature, and the wind rustling through the cypresses.

I often remember those times when I'm in my car, stuck in New York traffic,

among the crowds, exhaust fumes, and traffic.

This city is one big, stinking sewer where the perverts roam.

Even well-mannered daughters from Farmville, Oklahoma,

bite off guys' cocks after being here a while.

As a cop, you lose sight of reality,

and then all that's left is the scum.

It may be that there are also pleasant and beautiful things in this city.

However, my job is to dig deep into the shit.

Hello, Luigi.

Hi, Robinson.

What room did that shit happen in last night?

That was in Room 308.

What's up with the hookers all of a sudden, Luigi?

They bite the cocks off of the clients.

They earn their money off those cocks, don't they?

All right, give me the key.

You won't find anything, Luigi.

Just blood, blood everywhere. This mess is costing me a fortune.

There's a trail of blood running from the bed to the bathroom,

and all the wallpaper is spattered.

You can't leave it like that, right?

I've seen a lot in this shithole,

believe me, but this is new.

What am I supposed to do now?

They've already arrested quite a lot of girls.

You still have yours, right?

I'm thinking of sending him back to the police office in a moment,

Who is that boy over there?

What boy?

Ah, right. Billy. He's doing well here.

He's new, but has good clientele.

Have you actually found the cock in the meantime?

I've searched everywhere.

Under the cupboards, behind the toilet --

Cut the crap, Robinson. Give me the key.

What do you want in the room, Luigi?

I'm telling you, though --

Do you know that the little cock-biter was still a minor?

Had she not bit so hard, I would have bet she still had baby teeth.

Luigi!

Oh, Bob.

What are you doing here?

I sing.

I'm not Bob anymore, my name is Babette now.

This shithole might not be Broadway,

but I know for a fact

that a famous movie producer secretly comes here to fuck.

I'm sure he'll notice me, then take me to Hollywood,

and I'll bathe in champagne for the rest of my life.

- Okay, I'll keep my fingers crossed for you.

Lolly!

- Don't call me Lolly, my name is Luigi.

Luigi. There are no more Lollies.