3 from Hell

04 3 from Hell - Rob Zombie 2019 English

This morning, the search for the fugitives known as the Devil's Rejects

resulted in a violent clash with the police.

The three suspects connected to the House of 1,000 Corpses murders,

were stopped dead in their tracks today.

All three suspects remain in intensive care

at Mercy of Christ Memorial.

Doctors say chances for survival are less than a million-to-one.

May 23rd, 1978.

This is the day three of the most infamous outlaws

in the history of American crime,

seemingly met their final fate.

Twenty bullet wounds a piece.

No one would have thought it possible that a single body

could survive such a devastating onslaught of destruction,

but they did.

Over the next year, the critically injured outlaws of mayhem

found their way back to the land of the living.

The ensuing trial would be the longest murder trial

in American history.

Perhaps because of the massive press coverage

the Rejects received, they became martyrs to the youth.

They're cool, man.

I think it's all a big conspiracy.

They know that Captain Spaulding is the man

and they know that he knows what this country needs, you dig?

Spaulding says, Fuck you and your system.

I'm in control.

I don't believe she did it.

It is obvious to me that she is not capable of those things.

No way.

Peace and love.

Baby. Oh, man!

Heard she's got it going on, you know?

I mean, I like the way that she moves.

It's like she's floating on a cloud or something. She's amazing.

Am I gonna be on the TV? Hi!

I mean, I think Otis is sexy.

I mean, he's a bad man and he's done some bad things,

but, like, I'd date him.

You wanted the god damn Boogeyman in your silly little lives.

Well, you've got him.

There's no fucking justice in this world.

I am justice!

They're trying to blame us, but we didn't do it.

Free the three!

Free the three! Free the three! Free the three!

Bain County Correctional.

For the last 10 years, Warden Virgil Dallas Harper

had been responsible for housing the two most famous killers

since Burke and Hare.

For the past decade,

you have kept Spaulding and Otis isolated from each other.

Now, do you see the duo as a threat?

I don't find them a threat. No threat at all.

Especially Spaulding.

He's a geriatric corpse with one boot in the grave

and the other dancing around the edge.

I don't see him as a menace to anyone except himself.

Today, guys. Anytime.

Which one of your geniuses is doing the interviewing?

Yeah, I am.

Thank you for taking the time to do this.

- You ready? - I ain't getting any younger.

You dressed as a clown,

but behind that colourful facade of joy lurks something much darker.

Who is the real Captain Spaulding?

God damn, boy. Could you get more dramatic?

Well, what I ain't is the fantasy created by the injustice system

and all them apes.

That's all on them.

- So you're saying... - I'm saying

I'm just a clown dancing for the fucking man.

A dancing clown that's been convicted of 38 murders.

I ought to slap the shit out of you.

Let me put it to you this way.

What's the difference between a dead squirrel laying in the road

and a dead clown laying in the road?

Yeah, I don't understand the question.

Do I stutter?

I don't know.

There are skid marks in front of the squirrel.

You roll that around in your coconut for a while, big shot.

So, you think you were railroaded by the system because you're a clown?

I am what they make me.

I'm your bozo Jesus hung out to dry for the sins of mankind!

Oh, fuck.

All hail the man behind the grease paint.

Early this morning, Captain Spaulding,

the killer clown, was executed by lethal injection.

It was carried out quietly.

He did not resist. There was no violence.

His last words were just, Give my love to my family and to my friends.

Those who saw him die have no remorse.

You see all these maniacs,

that they're running around

thinking that this nut job, this killer,

is some kind of great person?

Well, he's not. You know what he is? He's the Devil!

Spaulding was pronounced dead at 5:54 am.

You know what they say, all the world loves a clown.

Is Otis the most dangerous man alive?

He's nothing.

He's like the rest of the lifers rotting in the cages here.

Bunch of nothings.

Yeah.

I think I know what you're looking for.

We're just looking for the truth.

You wouldn't know the truth if I crammed it down your fucking throat.

Boy, you're marked.

Christ, you're already dead.

You just don't know it.

The truth is the truth.

The truth is a fucking knife.

Cuts deep and it cuts both ways.

Which end of the buck knife are you holding?

The handle or the blade?

You don't even know.

So, what do you want? Shall I break down in tears

and confess my sins to the holy fucking pussy of the virgin?

I'm not a bad man.

I'm just another lost soul,

searching for forgiveness in this wicked, wicked world.

Hello, America.

Did you miss me?

I am Satan's destroyer.

I am the eternal flame of salvation,

burning through your life,

your liberty and your pursuit of fucking happiness.

I suggest you get ready to burn, mother fucker.

The footage you are about to see

was shot on the morning of October 2nd, 1988.

The film makers who've documented this did not survive the experience.

I remember you.

I don't remember you.

You will, mother fucker.

Work detail, toes on the line.

Move up. Let's go!

Start digging-

The following piece of film is the only clue that police have

concerning the escape of Otis Driftwood.

Viewer discretion is advised.

- -

Who are you?

Payback's a bitch, mother fucker.

Public enemy number one, mother fucker.

Number one!

This man is Winslow Foxworth Coltrane,

a.k.a. The Midnight Wolfman,

and the half-brother of Otis Driftwood and Baby Firefly.

The Driftwood escape left a horrifying crime scene of death in its wake.

As of the airing of this program, Otis Driftwood is still at large.

Incredible savings up to half off and more

on living rooms, bedrooms and dining rooms.

Lay away free for up to a year.

I look like a fucking Stooge!

Bam! He escapes on camera

with a massacre to rub in my face.

Christ, Virgil, it wasn't your fault. I know that.

Of course, it ain't. I know that and you know that,

but the illiterate public doesn't.

You think Ma and Pa Kettle reading about those dead fucking prison guards

is gonna pin the blame on them?

No. They're fucking heroes!

Is it just me, or are these the greatest fucking beans on Earth?

It's just you.

Takes a while to get that prison slop out of your taste buds.

You got that right.

So, how do you figure we go about doing this?

Well,

I've been stewing about it 24/7 for about an eight ball.

I got some thoughts.

Whitey, man.

We've been creeping around this fucking place for a month.

- It's suicide. - Patience, brother, patience.

You know, I've been running that movie, The Desperate Hours,

through my head over and over again.

- Remember that shit? - Not really.

It's a fucking Bogart movie.

I always liked Cagney better.

He's a tough fucking little shit.

Come on and take it, you dirty, yellow-bellied rat,

or I'm gonna give it to you through the door!

So, lay it on me.

I can only assume in this scenario I'm Bogart.

Listen, sweetheart, here's the plan.

You know, enough of these lousy impressions.

Lousy impressions?

How can you be fucking Bogart when you don't even know the fucking plan?

I'm a lot more fucking Bogart than you are.

Well, fuck you.