My Own Private Idaho

Five, six, seven, eight...

nine, 10.

I always know where I am by the way the road looks.

Like I just know that I've been here before.

I just know that I've been stuck here...

like this one fucking time before, you know that?

Yeah.

There's not another road anywhere that looks like this road.

I mean, exactly like this road.

It's one kind of place.

One of a kind.

Like someone's face.

Like a fucked-up face.

Where do you think you're running, man?

We're stuck here together, you shit.

Don't worry. Everything's gonna be all right.

I know. It's okay.

I know, you're sorry. I know.

The cattle are prowlin' The coyotes are howlin'

Way out where the doggies bawl

Where spurs are a-jinglin', a cowboy is singin'

This lonesome cattle call

He rides in the saddle till his day's work is done

And he rounds up the cattle each fall

Walt.

- Walt. - Yeah, Mike?

You think, um, that you could spot me 10 more dollars?

Ten dollars? What's the matter? You can't get it from your dad?

My dad and I don't get along too well. You know that, Walt.

We're not getting along that well either now, are we?

No. We don't get along too well...

or else he wouldn't have gone out and drowned himself at Boxcar Canyon.

- Again? - Yeah.

He hit the water this time?

- He survived the first time. This time... - Oh, God.

You're the only one I can ask. You know that, Walt.

Please! I'll owe you a date. How about that?

I'll owe you a date. Please.

Oh, God, crying tears. Hold on.

Here you go.

Thanks.

Don't worry.

Everything's gonna be all right.

Don't worry. Everything's gonna be all right.

Here. Now, mind the carpet. It's white.

Give me your shoes. Give me your shoes.

Mmm. Mmm.

Okay, just a sec.

Put these on... so you don't make a mess.

I am so lucky.

I was born on April 4, 1944.

That's 4-4-44.

If you add that up, it comes to 16.

One, six.

One plus six is seven.

Luckiest number of all.

- You know your math. - It's more than math, Mike.

It's...

immaculate perfection.

Oh.

Boy, this place is a mess.

Yeah, let's make it immaculate.

- Okay. - Okay.

Deep night

Stars in the sky above

Moonlight

Lighting our place of love

Night winds

Seem to have gone to rest

Two eyes

Faster, little Dutch boy.

Harder.

Yeah, that sound. That sound.

Vow that you'll love me always

And be mine alone

- I'm all done. - Deep night

And now, my lucky 44th...

little Dutch boy...

you must scrub...

Daddy Carroll.

This chick's living in a new car ad.

Feels like a dream.

A girl never picks me up, much less a pretty, rich girl.

They don't? I don't know why that is.

This is a nice home.

- Do you live here? - Yes.

I don't blame you.

Oh.

Hey.

What up, Scott? What up, Gary?

Hey, it's Mikey the dike.

You men make yourselves comfortable.

I'll be right back.

There are cokes in the refrigerator. Help yourselves.

She's cool. She just likes to have three guys 'cause it takes her a while to get warmed up.

It's normal. Nothing kinky.

Yeah.

Hey, dude, did you get into that Sinéad O'Connor concert last night?

- What? To... To the Sinéad... - The chick with the bald head.

I-I've never been to a concert before, dude.

This is nice.

Backyard.

Oh, shit.

He always does this.

I'm surprised he can exist like this.

How do we know he's okay?

Well, he's not dead. Listen.

He's not dead. He's just passed out. It's a condition.

He really scared the shit out of that lady.

What causes it? Sex?

Narcolepsy doctors are saying it's brought on by certain chemical reactions in the brain.

Comes about in situations of stress.

Some hustler, huh?

Well, where are we gonna take him?

We can't just leave him here.

Come on, Mikey.

Hey, Mike, you stay here.

When you wake up, come back into town. I'll be waiting for you.

You'll be safer here in this comfy neighborhood than in the city.

I grew up in a neighborhood like this.

And my dad...

he has more fucking righteous gall...

than all the property and people he lords over...

and those he also created... like me, his son.

But I almost get sick thinking that I am a son to him.

You know you have to be as good as him to keep up.

You have to be able to lift as big a weight.

You have to be able to throw that weight as far...

or make as much money, or be as heartless.

My dad doesn't know that I'm just a kid.

He thinks I'm a threat.

No, I won't listen! I won't listen to you!

Hey, Scotty! Come on, you big stud!

When you wake up, wipe the slugs off your face.

Get ready for a new day.

I never thought I could make it as a real model.

You know, fashion-oriented modeling.

'Cause I'm better at full-body poses.

It's all right so long as the photographer doesn't come on to you...

and expect something for nothing.

I'm trying to make a living. I like to have a professional attitude.

Of course, if the guy can pay me, hell yeah.

Here I am for him. I'll sell my ass.

Do it on the street occasionally for cash.

Or I'll be on the cover of a book.

It's when you start doing things for free that you start to grow wings.

Isn't that right, Mike?

- What? - Wings, Michael.

You grow wings and become a fairy.

What do you care about money? Shit, you got plenty of money.

Why don't you go ahead and do whatever it is that you do...

I can only imagine what that is... for free?

Is that right, sweetie?

So, how much is a lot of money, honey?

What are you doing on the cover of that magazine? Slumming?

Actually, Mikey's right. I am going to inherit money.

A lot of money.

Hi.

- What's happening? - Nothing.

- You want a lift? - A lift?

Yes.

Isn't this that, uh... that lady's car?

- What's her name? - Alena.

- Is she a friend of yours? - No, not really.

- She's a very good friend of mine. - Good.

Any friend of Alena's a good friend of mine.

- You want to be my friend? - No.

My name is Hans.

I'm from Germany.

Now I live in America...

- selling pieces for cars. - Mm-hmm.

- Say, why don't you get in? - No.

I take you wherever you want to go.

- Where you want to go? - Home.

- Get in the car. - No.

This guy's a pervert. I can tell, man.

Why don't you go home? Go the fuck home.

How did we get home?

That German guy, Hans.

He brought you downtown. You were passed out.

He said he was heading to Portland, so I asked him for a ride.

For some reason, I'm forgetting a German guy named Hans.

Well, you were sleeping.

So, how much do you make off me when I'm asleep?

Just a ride, Mike.

I don't make anything.

What, you think I sell your body while you're asleep?

No, Mike, I'm on your side.

Gary's up here somewhere. He left about three days ago.

He flew up here with a...

hairdresser.

Exotic.

I heard something about Bob coming up here to town. Is that true?

- You hear anything about that? - Bob.

Bob.

I don't know. I hope he's in town.

- We'll have fun if Bob's in town. - Yeah, I wouldn't mind seeing him.

Hey, didn't you two have like a...

I kind of remember you having, like, this real heavy, uh...

- Thing? - Thing. A heavy thing goin', right?