1
For a hundred years,
one company has worked
with unparalleled vision
toward the continued
safety of our great nation:
Ammotech.
First, we changed the game
with the chain-fed machine gun,
- as well as Claymore landmines.
- (man screams)
Next we taught those Krauts
about another great American pastime:
the barbecue.
Ammotech.
The world's leading innovator
of weapons of mass protection.
Yes y'all yes, yes y'all
Start the party celebrate
I'm sick of nonsense
I wanna elevate
From a familiar feeling...
(horns honking)
I'm coming to the end of the line
Check my watch,
man, is it about time?
I need to move,
y'all, unrestrained
Come alive, I'm on the chain
(on car stereo) Do you
really wanna break...
Put your hands in the air
let me hear you say...
Clarence! Hey, listen, I'm super late
and can't find my gate pass anywhere.
I was hoping you could
just do me a favor and...
- I gotta have that pass.
- Yeah. Of course.
(whispering) Gate pass.
Gate pass. Gate pass.
Yeah, I got it. I got it. Uh...
The thing is, Clarence, I'm a
little disorganized this morning.
- I see, and
- and it's heartbreaking.
I got you a card on
your birthday, remember?
It had a cupcake running away
from a shitload of candles.
- Look, no pass, no entry. At least without TW
- 100 clearance form.
Dude, don't make me fill
out that one giant form...
- (banging on car door)
- No access to the premises without valid ID.
- Prohibited.
- Thanks, Clarence.
Next birthday, no card.
(snoring)
- (alarm blaring)
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
Oh. Hey. Brimble. Accounting.
- Accounting.
- Yeah. I know.
Okay. Thanks, Tony.
Wait, wait. Wait, wait. Wait, wait.
- (elevator chimes)
- Woman (automated): Door is open.
- Dezzy Des.
- Sammy Sam.
Once again fighting a
losing battle with Mondays.
Once again busting my balls.
Well, somebody has to do it. You
haven't been on time for anything since...
(inhales sharply)
- ...ever
- Not true.
2012. NYU. Totally on time
for your graduation ceremony.
After you went out the
night before and got so drunk
that you puked during my speech.
Don't take that as a criticism.
It was a brilliant speech.
Ever think that maybe my problem here
is that I'm just not being
properly incentivized?
Of course you are. You get
to hang out with me every day.
Give me your hand. Give me your hand.
So you can at least try to be on time.
- (elevator bell dings)
- Uh, thanks.
My gift to you.
Helen, I'll need to remain undisturbed
throughout my meetings today.
Also, excellently tidy workspace.
Love the lipstick.
I'll take my green juice in five minutes.
(ringing)
- Hello?
- Man (on phone): Good morning, Desmond.
Step into my office, please.
Sure thing, Mr. Nusbaum.
Helen, hi. No, no, no. Please don't get up.
Don't get up. Don't get... Oh.
Really, I could get the door myself if...
(sighs)
You know, it's really not the
assistant's job to do that.
Anymore.
That's very kind of you, and thank you.
Thanks for walking me.
That was great. Thank you.
- Morning.
- You're late.
Uh, yeah. I ran into some
trouble at the guard gate and...
Yes, I've noticed that tardiness is
a recurring motif in your life,
- but actually I don't care.
- Hmm.
I've called you in here
regarding the merger.
- Merger?
- Yes.
Merger, as in to merge,
connect, conjoin, couple or harness.
- Who are we merger
- ing with?
- Altria.
- The cluster bomb guys.
No, that would be Benevolencia.
Altria makes the VX gas,
weaponized anthrax, and of course...
the all-terrain jet ski.
Boy, they've had a great year.
We might get a leg up
on them if we develop
an all-terrain jet ski that
shoots weaponized anthrax.
- Possible. I'll e
- mail Development.
By the by, R and D has
been banging down my door
regarding the Clayton report.
Now, what is the ETA on that exactly?
On its way.
Excellent. Well, whichever
of those is your best foot,
I suggest you put it forward, Desmond,
because I can assure you that not all of us
are going to be here
at the end of the week.
Goodbye.
(telephone ringing)
(whispering) Desmond.
Psst.
Desmond.
You get fired or what?
Not as far as I know.
I got a cousin at Altria.
They already laid off half
of their accounting staff.
You know what that means.
Half of us are going, too.
- (chair rattling)
- It's already started.
Meg's desk is empty. Heard
she got axed last night.
Worst part. Her severance package:
an Ammotech T-shirt.
- (scoffs) A fucking - shirt?
My Uncle Usef warned me about this.
He said America is nothing
but downsizing, heart disease,
and billboards that give you an
unnatural desire for white women.
- Why did I not listen?
- Why did I not listen?
- I keep saying that to myself.
- I was told not to work here.
- Guys. Hey!
- (overlapping conversation)
Relax, okay.
We don't know for sure,
so let's just assume
everything's gonna be fine,
and hey, if it does happen,
you know what they say:
When one door opens, another door closes.
What?
I got that backwards. When one door...
See you, bitches.
Hey, Lentworth.
No offense, but... but
you're really fucking old,
and nobody really knows
what you do here anyway,
so if anyone's gonna go, it's gonna be you
or Johnny Jihadi over here.
(chuckles) Marcus, the racist,
moronic statements you're making
are no match for the wall of serenity
I've created around myself.
You know what I really miss, Mohammed?
Wearing my shoes at the airport.
One, uh, my name is Mourad, okay.
And two, I grew up in Jakarta,
which is a long way from the Middle East,
- and three, for the billionth...
- You're a pacifist,
one who just happens to
work at a weapons company.
- Come on.
- I have student loans.
Yeah, whatever. If the ax is gonna fall,
it's gonna fall on one of you bitches.
Now, me, I'm co-deputy regional manager.
I'll probably be promoted.
Well, it helps that
you're Mr. Gantt's nephew,
That's true. So who's it gonna be?
Well, I...
I can't get fired. I got
a... I got a mortgage,
alimony, two kids in college.
Viagra's a fortune. Oh, God.
I'm so screwed.
- I am so screwed.
- (keys jingling)
See, what you need to
do is you just grab a key
and you stab someone's
ass to death with it.
(laughing)
That's the only way
you're gonna keep a job.
- Make a choice.
- (phone beeps)
Nusbaum (on phone): Lentworth.
- Step into my office, please.
- Ooh, too late.
(Marcus laughing)
I think my old boss
is still at Fishsticks.
- I can still make fish.
- Good luck.
(sighs)
- (phone rings)
- Woman (on phone): Dr. Frohm. Line 1.
Frohm: Hey, Mr. Corn to Sean Penis.
- Hello?
- It's Dr. Frohm.
- Get your ass down to R and D right now.
- (hangs up)
Desmond: How to survive
a day at Ammotech.
One. Always have a clipboard in hand.
The busier you look, the
more invisible you become.
- Hey, Des, uh...
- Step two.
If you get cornered, know the lingo.
Desmond!
We got a problem with our
purchase orders over in R and D.
I can totally get you
those CPCs. Just draft an RFP
and we can reconvene
AEOD for some THC. Cool?
Sure.
THC?
All right, let's start
pissing brain juice.
Sloganball time. Maxwell.
- The M26 Mega
- Taser.
50,000 volts of stopping power.
Nice slogan. Sloganize me, Bertrand.
Uh, M26. It will zap until you crap.
- Man 1: Yeah.
- Man 2: Hear! Hear!
Desmond: Three. When
others try to pull you in,
do not give them anything useful
or they'll expect it every time.
Desmond!
Sloganize me.
Uh, sure.
(inhales sharply)
The M26 Mega-Taser.
A lot more gentle than a Glock.
- Woman: I don't...
- Man: Yes.
- It's kinda medium.
- Man: Good try, man.
Not the best idea I've
ever heard, but okay.
- Man: Go back to the mailroom, you loser.
- (groans)
- It's a bad idea.
- Bob: Unless you want me to hire this moron,
start coming up with real ideas.
Desmond: Four.
Remember, the higher the office,
the bigger the douchebag.
(elevator bell dings)
Take the sales dudes for example.
- The V
- 22 will turn that target into toothpaste.
Very good choice, my friend. See you soon.
Boom! I just fucked that clown in the ass.
What's up, Hofnagle? Let me
show you how I just did that.
USA! USA!
America! Woo!
- This is what winning feels like.
- (cheering)
Woman (automated): At Ammotech,
we make weapons of mass protection.
Desmond: Five. When processing orders,
remember, you are the one in power.
Does it really take this long
to get an order processed by you, Desmond?
It's been over a month,
and I still don't have
that boron silicate hydroxide I want.
When did we, uh, get the robot?
Robots don't have people in them.
This is an XL-9 Patrol Suit.
One of six fully operational models.
First-ever green tech.
Runs solely on organic material.
So when people think
Ammotech, they'll think,
"Friend to the environment."
Oh, I don't care about the environment.
What I do care about is that
if we're up in the Afghan hills
and this thing runs out of gas,
I can just grab an armadillo,
throw it in the back, and continue
to rain hell down on the hajjis.
Actually, armadillos are only
found in Central and North America.
I did a paper on them in high school.
And did you know they can hold
their breath for up to six minutes?
I give zero fucks about
what you're saying right now.
I want those purchase orders double-timed.
Do you understand me?
They're vital to a product
that we are working on.
Got it?
Great. Thanks, bud.
Oh, um, I wouldn't stand
there if I were you.
Why?
(beeping, whirring)
(laughs)
Frohm: Oh, shit.
What?
Desmond: I didn't have
an official number for this,
but I just thought of it
and it's pretty important,
so let's call it 5B.
If someone's a dick, you have the option
of making their life hell
with your hidden accounting superpower:
Losing the paperwork.
- Man: I said it's not ready.
- Frohm: Look,
you're not in charge and it's not your job.
Do you understand?
(indistinct announcement on PA)
What are you looking at, fucknuts?
Get that order in.
Sure thing, Doc.
Desmond: Six.
To minimize job stress,
practice your breathing techniques.
(soothing music playing)
(coughs, laughs)
(bong gurgling)
Anyway... they shot
a pig with the mech suit
and now I'm, like...
wearing some of it.
(both laughing)
I thought that was a
design on your shirt.
(coughing) I'm okay.
I'm okay.
(clears throat)
To being newly...
(laughing) ...unemployed.
- Yeah!
- (sniggers)
Fuck this place, man.
My God, this guy.
(Lentworth coughing)
Desmond: This bring
us to our final entry,
number seven.
Work on your own shit at work.
Every one of us could
get shitcanned tomorrow,
so spend a little time
working on your fallback plan.
William Faulkner wrote one of his books
using a wheelbarrow as a desk
while working on some graveyard shift.
Me, I've been designing a video game app.
Basically a continuous runner
where a guy who is stoned,
and remains stoned,
is looking for munchies,
and if he reaches the end,
him and his girlfriend...
You know what?
I shouldn't be pitching it right now.
It's still in the design stage.
(phone ringing)
Accounting. Hope you're having
a blessed day. How may I help you?
(on phone) This is
Adam Nusbaum speaking.
I've just now noticed
the sign on my door reads
A. Nusbaum.
Why did no one bring
this to my attention?
Desmond, I assure you
this would be a lot funnier
if your voice even remotely
resembled Mr. Nusbaum's.
(imitating Nusbaum) I think
you're working way too hard.
Take a moment and kick back.
- Jesus.
- I'm hungry.
Are you hungry? We should order pizza.
I'd very much like to do my work.
We'll split one. In honor
of this shitty day, I'll buy.
Okay, you can't do that.
Employees can no longer
make outgoing calls.
- Do you ever read any e-mails?
- What?
- Call center. How can I help you?
- Hi.
Why do you exist?
Woman: Excuse me?
Why do I have to go through
you to call out somewhere?
Due to the number of personal
calls made on company time,
we've been put in as
a cost-cutting measure.
Oh. In order to cut costs,
they created a brand-new department?
Yes.
- Can I order a pizza?
- Woman: No.
Have a nice day.
- This is an outrage.
- Will you stop, okay.
Seriously. Listen, I know you don't care
if you lose this job, but I do.
Okay? If you hate this
place so much, just quit.
Let someone else who
wants a job keep theirs.
I don't want to lose my job.
This is the best job in the world.
Look, I get all the free
coffee I can consume,
full health and dental, and
I get to work on my game.
- Oh, Stoner Snatch?
- That was the working title,
but it's now Bake... and Take.
You've been working
on it for three years.
And it shows, brother. It shows.
I mean, the detail,
Mo. I mean, seriously...
Oh, I think you stay
for a different reason.
- Wendy?
- Mo: No.
"Dezzy Des. Sammy Sam."
Samantha? (scoffs)
- Please.
- (imitates scoff)
(both snort)
Dude, we grew up
together. She's my homie.
And besides, we have a deal.
Oh, what's the deal?
I'm bad with relationships,
so why risk ruining a good friendship?
Okay, but don't you want sex?
I have sex.
How? You're not in a relationship.
I have sex with women I'm
not in a relationship with.
God, I wish I had your face.
- What?
- Nothing.
Never mind. Go... fix your hair.
(beeping on PA system)
Nusbaum: Would everyone please report
to the 4:00 p.m. motivational seminar?
- Thank you.
- Mo: Get up.
(chattering)
I heard your department
was a slaughterhouse today?
Don't worry. I dodged the meat grinder.
Desmond Brimble shall live
to mail it in another day.
Okay, can you just listen
like an adult for ten seconds?
- Okay.
- (sighs)
I know you'd rather be playing Mario Kart,
but if you get fired,
that makes me look bad.
So do me a favor, okay.
No more fucking up.
You got it. No
more fuck-up-ery.
I'm setting an alarm as a little reminder
to come by my office tomorrow
and tell me how impressed
Nusbaum is with your report!
Count on it.
Woman: Ladies and gentlemen...
- it is my great honor...
- Love you, Des.
...to introduce Ammotech CEO
Franklin Gantt.
(applause and cheering)
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.
(clears throat)
I know many of you are asking yourselves...
Why are we having a motivational seminar
when we're laying off 40
percent of our workforce?
Gantt: ...the best defense
manufacturer on the planet,
and I say to you, you are...
- I gotta go.
- Where are you going?
I have a report to
finish. Start, actually.
Don't leave us here with
these people, man. Fuck.
Gantt: ...our history of great products.
And now, onto our newest product,
Zolt, it will awaken the warrior within.
But first things first. Who's thirsty?
I've got a list of accolades
and I don't have to say
And I ain't talkin' now, I'm
talkin' way back in the day
Add it up to now for real
it's still nothin' to me
I'm finna top that
man, I got that, y'all...
(men humming, shouting)
Man: Hey, go, go, go, go!
Oh, Sam!
Sam! (laughs)
Des, what up?
Whoa, you're off early. What,
did you finally quit, hmm?
No. Actually, I recommitted myself to it.
- (all laughing)
- Yeah, right.
Well, someone's gotta
pay the rent around here.
I told you, I will pay rent
once my lawsuit check comes in.
Those fucks at the
Make-A-Wish Foundation
cannot hide from me.
Always fighting the good fight, Fred.
(belches)
Hey, come play Mario Kart with us.
Dude, I'm telling you, I got
a report due in the morning,
I've been putting it off
all week, I gotta focus.
Man: Get your ass up
and quit being a pussy.
- Let's go.
- Yeah, you're being a pussy.
Pussies are tough, Freddy.
They can take a pummeling and spit out
an entirely new human being.
- Never thought of it like that.
- That's weird.
Fred: We'll see you outside, huh?
(all cheering)
Nope. Not gonna happen.
Come on. Let's go out back.
(door opens, closes)
(dog whimpers)
(panting)
- Battle mode!
- (laughing)
(yelling)
Hang on, bud.
Pussy! Pussy!
Tell me this is not the
greatest Tuesday ever!
It's Monday. What the fuck?
Who gives a shit, bitch?
(all shouting, laughing)
Fred: Move your fucking ass, Luigi!
Losing is not an option!
- Oh, shit!
- You son of a bitch!
(snoring)
(birds chirping)
(alarm beeping)
- (computer beeping)
- No.
No, no, no, no, no, no. No. No. No.
No. No! Fuck!
(muttering) Pass...
Gate pass, gate pass, gate pass, gate pass.
(tires squealing)
Brimble. Accounting.
Thanks, Tony.
(phone ringing)
- Hello?
- Nusbaum: Brimble. My office.
- Now.
- Sure thing, Mr. Nusbaum.
(whirring)
- (inhales deeply)
- (knocking on door, door opens)
What is that stuff? I saw
them making it down in R and D.
I heard a report on
the news today, Desmond,
about villagers in Africa who are so poor
that they have resorted to eating pancakes
made of fried dirt.
Have you heard about this?
I missed that one.
Dirt, Desmond,
fried... dirt, and it got me thinking.
Do you know who has a lot of dirt?
We do.
We could make our own
pancakes out of fried dirt,
export them to these poor, poor people
- for pennies on the dollar...
- (pencil sharpener whirring)
...and get a great
contract with the Red Cross.
(moans)
(sniffs)
Whoa!
- That's...
- Was Jerry Solomon.
Decent supervisor, but unfortunately,
his weight indicated a certain lack
of impulse control.
Did you know that type II diabetes
is one of the biggest drains
on corporate healthcare?
Also, his spelling was atrocious.
- Uh...
- (laughing) Errors everywhere.
He had to go. (laughs)
- Uh, I... I should...
- Let me read your report.
I think I need a little more time.
(shushing)
Paragraph three. You
make very creative use
of the word...
"whom."
"Whom?"
As in the objective in relation
to the subjective pronoun "who."
Right, i.e., "With whom are
you going to the movies?"
- (shouting) E.g.!
- What?
E.g., Brimble, not i.e.
I.e. means id est, which
is Latin for "in other words."
E.g. means exempli gratia,
which is Latin for "for example."
Why is this so hard to understand?
This is not
f-f-f-f... (stuttering)
...fucking string theory!
I get it. I get it. Reread it.
It says, "With whom does
our company compete?"
That's correct, yeah?
My mistake.
- Thank you.
- Except...
you did spell my name incorrectly.
What? N-U-S-B... What?
(stammering) -So, Desmond.
- I can't have... What the fuck are you talking about?
- (bones cracking)
I'm afraid that we're
going to have to let you go.
No, no, no, no! (screams)
(grunts)
Desmond, don't be too sad.
- We do have a killer severance package.
- (all growling)
- Oh, shit! Oh!
- (growling)
(snarling)
What the fuck?
Carter.
You have any idea what the hell's going on?
- We gotta get out of here.
- Go away.
I'm working!
(gulping)
(grunting)
Okay. I'm gone.
Just keep pounding away and I'll...
(growling softly)
- I didn't have that saved.
- Oh.
That's terrible, man.
Maybe we could, um, check autosave?
Might be a backup somewhere?
Forget it. I'll retype it for you.
- No, no, no, no! Don't!
- (shouts)
(both grunting)
Are you okay? Oh, shit.
(shouts)
Carter, wait! (grunts)
(snarling)
(gasping)
(line rings)
Ammotech. How may I direct your call?
Desmond: Help me.
They're trying to kill me.
Put me through to 911.
Where are you calling from, sir?
Desmond: I'm in a safe place.
- Now put me through to the cops.
- Woman: One moment, sir.
Just let me check with my supervisor.
Desmond: No, no, no.
You don't understand.
I'm stuck on the fourth
floor with a bunch of psychos.
They got a hold of this green
shit that was not really...
Sir, company policy prohibits
any outside calls without
appropriate clearance.
You don't need to check with
anyone. Just fucking do it.
Sir, company policy
prohibits abusive language.
If you'll consult the employee
manuals, it's all right there.
Okay, I'm sorry. Please, just
do whatever it is you need to do,
- then put me through to the cops.
- Sir, company policy...
Shut the fuck up!
- (screams)
- (line disconnects)
(sighs)
(growling)
(screaming)
We need catchphrases! Hit me!
Hit me!
Zolt. You'll like it,
or I'll rip out your fucking spine!
(all cheering)
Beautiful. Give it to me.
Zolt! You will like it,
or I will barbecue your children
while sodomizing the family dog!
- (cheering)
- I like it!
Decapitation's the way to go, guys.
Lucky bastard probably
didn't even feel a thing.
- Desmond!
- (gasps)
(screams)
Sloganize me.
(all chanting) Sloganize. Sloganize.
Sloganize. Sloganize.
Sloganize. Sloganize.
Sloganize.
Zolt. It's green...
uh...
and strong?
(all murmuring)
Strong.
(snarling)
- Uh, now with taurine.
- (snarling stops)
That is kind of okay. It's a little okay.
It's a little fucking stupid, but okay.
That's good.
Next!
(alarm beeping)
Oh, shit. Sam.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
(pop music playing over earphones)
(shouting in distance)
Thank God you're all right.
Wow. What got into you last night?
Come on. We have to leave.
This place is full of lunatics.
- Are you high?
- No.
- No.
- Okay.
Whatever it is, clearly nothing I said
got through to you yesterday.
Okay. Listen. I get you
want to save this place,
but this place is beyond fucking saving.
Now come on. Let's go.
- Let go!
- Whoa!
Des, are you okay?
How many of those have you had?
This?
Um... like half.
Wait, wait. Wait.
I just wanted to, uh, taste it.
Okay. Well, get your own.
They're all over the building.
Now, I have a lot of work to
do, and I'm really behind, so...
You spilled my Zolt.
(Desmond screams)
Whoa. That was like falling
asleep behind the wheel.
What are you doing on the floor?
Uh, I'll explain once we
get the fuck out of here.
You broke my picture!
Shit!
(screaming)
I'm gonna fuck you
like the best man at my sister's wedding!
Whose wedding? Jenny's?
- Oh, my God!
- (hoarse voice) Dezzy Des.
- I know you want this.
- Um, Sam...
I've seen the way you look at me.
You're not wrong. Busted.
But maybe not right now.
Shut up and take it, slut!
Oh, God! No...
(screams)
(Sam growling)
You're psycho!
You're crazy. Get off me.
- (snarling)
- Oh, my God!
(grunts)
Sam?
Samantha?
Okay, I'm really sorry
about all this stuff that just went down,
but I swear, I'm gonna
get you out of here, okay.
(panting, grunting)
- Des.
- (shouts)
Plan B.
(snoring)
What the hell's going on?
I'm getting us the hell out of here.
- That's what's going on.
- On a furniture dolly?
Here's a pink pillow.
Desmond.
Get me off of here right now.
I can't. You'll attack me.
Or sexually harass me, or both,
which sends a really mixed message.
Sexually har... I did
not sexually harass you.
I'm not... I am completely
in control of myself.
And this is a very impractical
solution, by the way.
Desmond. Hey! Look at me.
Look at me.
Look at me.
I'm fine.
I'm gonna slice off your
nipples and put them on a pizza!
Pepperoni!
Listen to me. This is just wrong.
- I don't even feel remotely safe like this.
- Oh, shit.
Hello?
Are you listening to me?
Bob: Look what you made me do!
Look what you made me do!
Look what Zolt made me do!
That's what we're gonna be singing.
(Desmond panting)
Bob: Sing to me now! Come on!
And sloganize!
Attention, Ammotech employees!
As some of you may have noticed,
our company is undergoing a regime change.
Jesus, he's putting a
whole fucking mob together.
Sam: My butt itches!
Please, be quiet. Okay?
(thudding)
What was that noise?
(screaming)
(both screaming)
(screaming)
(hoarse voice) Stop!
Mo?
Have you had any Zolt?
It's Ramadan.
Rama...
(normal voice) It's Ramadan.
I'm fasting, idiot.
Oh. Right. Shiva and all that stuff.
Shiva is the god of
death. That's Hinduism.
- Where did you go to school?
- Shh!
Come on.
(creaking softly)
Nusbaum: Now, there's only
room for one man to be in charge,
so I'm going to need you and your people
to get on board with me.
You want us to get on board with you?
Yeah, that's not gonna happen.
(bones cracking)
I'm detecting a little
hostility there, Bobby.
And we both know that's not very conducive
to a creative team atmosphere, now is it?
- My lips are chapped!
- Shh!
- (muffled yelling)
- (door closes)
- Shut her up.
- (shouting continues)
What the hell is wrong with her?
- She drank a half a can of Zolt...
- (growling)
...and now whenever something
even mildly irritates her,
- she gets a little...
- (growls)
- ...prickly.
- (growling)
Prickly? You call that prickly?
Look, if she's had any of that stuff,
she's a zombie mutant
psycho like the rest of them.
And we need to...
You... You need to...
What?
...slice her throat open.
Or, you know, stab her in
the stomach or something.
- Listen, anyone who lays a finger on her is... Oh!
- (bones crunch)
- Shh!
- (muffled yelling)
Stab her. Stab her.
- Are you crazy?
- Shh!
Bob: Let me ask you a question.
What the fuck has
Accounting done lately, huh?
Did you do the campaign that sold
30,000 automatic shotguns to Blackwater?
No! We did!
How about the Nukey The
Talking Warhead campaign?
Nope! We did that, too!
How about Stack-the-Iraqi
board game? Now for children.
Oh, nope, that was us, too!
How about my personal favorite,
the Agent Orange Soda campaign?
Ding! Ding! Ding! That was us, too!
Adver-fucking-tising!
See, we make reality out of...
(blows) ...nothing.
(slurping)
Mmm.
Now...
be a good girl and recycle this.
Would you like to see me make a reality...
out of nothing...
Robert?
Oh, please.
(all gasping)
Now, who amongst you is responsible
for the Agent Orange Soda campaign?
(all growling)
I hate you and your work.
Everyone, kill those two and you may live.
- (screaming)
- Welcome aboard!
What the fuck just happened?
Which part? The part where
Nusbaum took over Marketing
by killing Bob with a soda can
or the part where you
almost bit my finger off?
What? Oh, my God!
I'm so sorry.
It's okay.
No. It's not okay.
You were in a weird place at the time.
- I feel really terrible.
- I've been bitten by bigger...
- I'm not gonna...
- Yeah, it was really fucked up
and definitely not okay,
but we have to go right now.
Is this your blood?
Okay, okay, so this
is what we're gonna do.
Okay, we're gonna take her
down the stairs, we're gonna...
we're gonna steal a car,
we're gonna call the police
and then have them call the National Guard.
(growling and shouting)
- Elevator?
- Both: Elevator.
Desmond: (grunting) Okay.
(screams) Oh, my God!
Does anyone else have
to use the bathroom?
Yeah. I do.
Okay. Good. Me too.
(beeps)
Woman (automated voice): Doors open.
Going down.
Seventh, sixth, fifth,
fourth... second, first.
- (crashing)
- (all scream)
We are experiencing minor
technical difficulties.
Uh, ventilation shaft?
Uh, ventilation shaft.
Yeah.
Please... (garbled) elevator.
(grunts) This isn't gonna work.
Ow! So not gonna work!
Motherfuckers, get me out of
here before I kill you both!
- New plan?
- You think?
- (screams)
- Jesus.
I don't even wanna think
about how that happened.
- Should we help him?
- Sam: Okay. Un-tape me.
Okay, that's never gonna happen.
- I can be helpful.
- Oh, really?
- How can you be helpful?
- I-I-I...
- There's no way you can be helpful.
- I was cranky before
because you bumped my head three times...
I said shut up! Do you guys wanna end up
with your gallbladder coming out your anus?
No.
I'm getting us out of here, okay.
Oh, yeah, and what's your plan, huh?
The staircase is blocked,
the phones are out,
- there's no elev...
- Wait!
You know what the shortest
distance between two points is?
A line?
It's a hole.
No! No! No!
(screams)
(PA chimes)
Woman (automated): Emergency
Safety Seal activated.
This building is now
under Threat-Con Level 4.
All employees, remain calm
and report to subsector B
for further instruction.
What the fuck is this?
Next-gen
anti-terror system.
Armored shutters and bulletproof glass
to safeguard against rocket attacks.
- We're locked in.
- Sam: It was spelled out clearly
in the Employee Training
Booklet. Didn't you read it?
Of course I read it.
I skimmed it.
(groaning)
Now I see why you didn't want me
to throw the thing at the window.
Mo: No! I didn't want you to
throw the thing at the window,
and I didn't want you
to almost get us killed,
and I definitely didn't
want you to do anything
that the pot-sponge-you-call
a-brain processes as helping us.
Mo! Shush!
Desmond could have left,
but he didn't. Okay.
So stop being an asshole.
Now...
how do we get the security seal open?
[Uh... (groans]
Only top management has the
codes to reopen the seal.
Great! So we just go
find those guys up in...
The executive level.
That means we gotta go through...
- (shouting)
- (gunshots)
Okay. We're fucked.
- You think?
- Mm-hmm.
(snarling)
- (growling)
- (woman screams)
(man screams)
How do we do this?
The second they see us, we're history.
Uh, we could pretend to
be crazy mutant psychos
like the rest of them.
I like your idea. How?
Desmond: Just say stuff
that makes you really mad.
Oh, I was born to do this.
Mo: Hairy asses!
Sam: Jennifer Lawrence at an awards show.
I can't eat cheese!
Men with Botox!
Dig deeper. Dig deeper.
My father touched me!
- Too deep!
- Homework!
Justin Bieber on a Segway!
(screaming)
- It's clear. Let's go.
- Okay.
(woman screams)
Samantha: What?
Oh, my God.
Is that Helen?
Oh, this actually makes me kind of sad.
- (snarling)
- Mo: Why hasn't she retired yet?
- In this economy? Mm
- mm.
Looks like she's got
arthritis in her hips.
Oh, my Uncle Usef had that.
You should try getting him baked.
I am not gonna get my uncle baked.
- Okay.
- (Helen growls)
Desmond: Shit.
Okay, look, what do we do?
I guess we could, uh...
We could wheel around
her. Wheel around her.
I can't. She's got too much of a reach.
Sam: Oh, God, fuck.
We gotta do something.
- (growling continues)
- Hold on!
(grunts)
Uh... You just hit
an 80-year-old lady
over the head with a potted plant?
- Yes, but in, like, self
- defense.
- Oh, yeah? Self
- defense? What was she gonna do?
- Gum us to death?
- She has teeth!
- Yeah, that she can't use.
- She can!
Guys!
Where the hell did she go?
- (snarling)
- (screaming)
(shouting in Hindi)
(yelps)
I can't believe I just did that.
It was an accident.
You just wall-butted
an 80-year-old lady
in the face on accident.
Yes. No. I-I-I
don't know.
No! Oh, my God!
It's kind of heroic, as far
as beating up the elderly goes.
- Is she okay?
- Sam: No, she's not.
You're both terrible people.
- But...
- (Helen whimpering)
...we have to get through HR.
- I can't do this. I can't...
- Yes, you can.
- They are nice ladies.
- Great.
(Helen gurgling)
- (woman screaming)
- (all cheering, shouting)
Okay!
That is why we do not send
work e-mails with emoticons!
Oh, God. Human Resources is
a pack of rabid koala bears.
Oh, yeah. Sexy, slutty koala bears,
in their natural habitat.
Back to work.
Hey. Notice how they've all
been stabbed in the back?
- What are you saying?
- Nothing. Just, you know...
Nothing? Just, you know,
because HR is basically all women,
it automatically makes us
a bunch of backstabbers?
Okay, first off, HR is not all women.
Look, there's a guy right
there. Oh, shit! It's Lentworth!
- E
- Excuse me.
Uh, I gotta pick up my check.
- Lentworth!
- Lentworth!
- Lentworth: Hello?
- Lentworth!
Oh, hi...
Oh, God.
(women growling)
I...
see a lot of familiar faces.
I know you. Remember
I asked you out when...
I got divorced and...
Oh.
Get back!
I mean it, get back! I'll use it!
(growling continues)
(whimpering)
Nusbaum (on PA system):
Attention, Human Resources.
This is Adam Nusbaum from Accounting.
Just a reminder about
the Accounting-HR meeting
starting momentarily
in the conference room.
(mouthing words)
We'll be covering such issues as
installing the ATS
to handle all OSHA documents and NDIs
in order to better guarantee QC.
(whispering) Don't lay it on too thick.
I got this.
Quick, informal T&D sessions
to go over our BPOs.
BPO stands for Business
Processing Outsourcing.
That's got nothing to
do with our department.
(all agreeing)
Uh, I mean, uh, BPDs.
- Woman 1: Oh, BPDs.
- Woman 2: Fine.
(over PA system) They're buying it.
Shit. Do you think they heard that?
- Yes.
- Shut up.
(growling)
- (growling)
- Sam: Pull me out. Pull me out.
Pull me out. Pull me out.
That way. Face me that
way. Face me that... Wait!
We are not the ones you wanna kill.
She is.
What the hell are you talking about?
Sam: Oh... honey.
I-I've been in HR long
enough to know things.
Jill! Jill!
Remember when you were
gonna be made supervisor
and then you didn't get the job?
Well, that's because Lisa spread a rumor
that you and your husband
have cocaine orgies.
(all gasp)
That was one time,
and you were there.
She's lying. She's totally lying.
Katie! Katie!
Remember those baby
pictures you brought in?
Well, Lisa says that it looks like you...
fucked a bag of potatoes.
(all gasp)
You're talking about my child?
Hold my wig.
I'm gonna kill you.
Oh! One more thing!
She keeps this department under budget
by setting the thermostat to cold!
In the wintertime!
(all gasp)
This is bullshit!
- Yeah!
- Lisa: Don't listen to her.
- Get her!
- She's trying to turn us...
all against me.
- Guys, I like sweaters.
- Sic her!
Punish her!
Lisa: You guys know me. We're friends.
We have Wine Wednesdays.
- (women growling)
- (Lisa screams)
You're a genius!
Let's go. Let's go. Let's
go. Let's go. Let's go.
That was great. Sad for Lisa, but great.
Lentworth, come on.
(men shouting)
Man: No, no, no, no.
Don't try to play me, son.
Who you think you're talking
to? I ain't no punk bitch.
If I say you need 55
cases of tear-gas rockets,
that's what you're gonna get,
or we're gonna have a fucking problem!
Please, please, tell me
there's another way around this.
Wish I could. Only
way up to the exec level
is right through there.
I will send a fucking
rocket to your house!
I will fucking bury you, motherfucker!
(shouting continues)
- We should get weapons.
- Yeah.
Mo: Hey, Des, this is
just like your video game.
Grabbing stuff from the aisles.
Except this is duct tape,
not cookies, obviously.
Des, are you making a video game?
Yeah, but it's no big deal.
Just a side thing, a hobby.
Why didn't you tell me?
'Cause it's silly.
I think it sounds cool.
Mo: It's super cool.
I got a plan.
Cool.
Just so we're clear, my
principles still hold.
I'm not committing any acts of violence.
Dude, we're about to go into battle.
Why'd you even put that on?
- Everybody else was doing it.
- Okay,
you can push Samatha, so Lentworth and I
can commit some acts of violence.
That sounds good. Here, take these.
You know, I'm not really that comfy
with the whole spearing part.
And now I'm holding spears.
Sam: You have to cut me loose, Des.
And if I go full Zolt
and I don't come back,
kill me.
I'm serious.
But you have to cut me loose.
We need all the help that we can get.
Don't listen to her. She's a crazy witch.
She can't be trusted.
I'm serious about the
"kill me" part, okay.
Serious.
Deal?
Deal.
(shouting, growling)
You think you're a tough guy?
I'm Ammotech, you tool bag!
Just try me, you tough guy.
I'll show you how tough.
You ain't even fighting
in the same weight class.
(continues shouting, indistinct)
Mo: Uh, I'm gonna turn
around. Anyone else?
Hey!
Hi, fellas.
I know it looks like we're
rolling up on you for a fight,
but it's really not the case.
The opposite, in fact.
All we want to do is just go through you
to that door over there.
- Right, guys?
- Sam: Yeah.
Mo: Yeah.
So, everyone's cool?
Yeah?
Kill them all!
(all shouting)
(shouting)
Help me!
(shouting)
Any violence is purely coincidental
and has nothing to do with me!
(grunts)
(groans)
Try again, Baldy! USA!
- (grunts)
- Oh, shit. Oh, shit!
(shouting)
Please stop chasing me!
(screams)
I did not do that. That was not my fault!
(screams) Please stop impaling yourselves!
(grunts)
- (gagging)
- I hope you're not allergic!
(both grunting)
(screams)
- Did you drink any Zolt?
- What? No!
We gotta get out of here.
Whatever you do, don't drink...
- (gasping)
- (flesh squelches)
Okay. That was me.
I'm 100 percent sure I just did that.
- He, uh...
- I just killed someone.
But I saved you. I saved you, right?
Let's never talk about this to anyone.
Okay. F...
(groans) I don't feel good.
Desmond: Sam.
Sam.
We're gonna get you help, okay.
Okay, almost there. Come on.
(both grunting)
- (muted growls)
- (electricity crackles)
(creaking)
We good?
Okay. Come on, let's go.
Mo: My back hurts.
(country music playing)
(monitor beeping)
Um... sir?
You might want to come take a look at this.
What you got?
Fuck me.
- (buzzing)
- Sorry, folks! No room at the inn.
You got three seconds
to step away from that door.
Wait, wait, wait. Wait,
wait, wait. We're not like
those other crazy people. We're normal.
(vomits)
Oh!
(Sam coughing, retching)
Uh, she does that sometimes.
- It's totally not a big deal.
- (spits)
I have this rule about
not opening the door
for people who are armed
and covered in blood.
And right now, y'all look like
the Four Used Tampons of the Apocalypse!
(all laughing)
- (buzzing)
- My building!
My rules!
He's not gonna let us in.
(wheels squeaking)
Uh... hi.
Shit.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
- Gantt: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
- (all shouting)
Everybody calm down! Goddammit!
This is a weapons manufacturing firm!
Violence has no place in here!
You. The hell do you want?
We want to know what's in this Zolt shit!
We want to know now!
Oh. Uh-huh.
Uh-huh.
Looks like you could use a drink.
I mean scotch!
For chrissake, stop looking
at me like I'm a monster!
I'll take a water, no ice.
Water, no ice. Okay. Who's next?
Zolt was designed for soldiers.
Makes them alert, focused,
productive.
But this first batch...
(clears throat)
...well, shit went sideways.
So what's it doing in our company?
Well, the best I can gather is
the scientist under Dr. Frohm
became disgruntled, for
reasons unknown to me.
And as a parting "fuck you" to the company
distributed the bad Zolt to the employees
and, uh, shit, here we are.
I'll deny all this, by the way, if deposed.
So what's the plan?
We're safe in here.
Grab a drink. Settle in.
Let the, uh, infected
employees punch themselves out,
and then... (whistles)
...bring in the hazmat!
Punch themselves out? They're
ripping each other's faces off!
I don't like it any
more than you do, son.
See, this woman here, she's really,
really, really important to me.
And whatever's in the stuff is
destroying her piece by piece,
and I've got to find a way to stop it!
- Such as?
- Such as,
I don't know, an antidote?
Why would we make an antidote?
You don't make a product and
then plan on it being recalled.
Did we do that with land mines?
Cluster bombs? Irradiated ammo?
Hell, no. We just make the stuff.
You start thinking about
what happens afterwards,
next thing you know, you're
living in San Francisco,
singing "If I Had a Hammer,"
running a goddamn daisy farm!
- I'm not fucking around, old man.
- Whoa!
Whoa, whoa.
Well, that's very touching son,
but you may want to drop your hands.
This thumbprint is the only way
that safety seal gets lifted.
And since y'all are relying on me
to get you out of this mess,
I suggest you start
acting like a team player.
There we go.
You want to talk to the
man that made the stuff?
That's Dr. Frohm.
But good luck getting down
to his office right now.
(beeping)
Oh, Christ!
Why is the fucking regional manager here?
Mother...
- (beeping continues)
- Shit.
- (buzzing)
- What the hell do you want, buddy boy?
(exhales deeply) Hello, Franklin.
My team and I are looking to
do some aggressive expansion,
so I'm going to need you
to rescind the safety seal
- around the building.
- (laughs)
- (buzzing)
- Rescind the seal.
Only thing I'm rescinding
is the part of your contract
where it says I can't take out my dick
and whip you with it
like a stagecoach driver.
Yes, I thought you might say that.
I also thought you might like to
keep the thumb on your left hand
as well as your worthless fucking life,
so I'm giving you ten seconds to comply.
- (buzzing)
- Well, good luck getting in here, pal.
(all growling)
Gantt: My doors are
two-inch thick titanium
steel-tempered alloy
with retinal scanners
and a voice-print security ID system
designed by the top engineers in Sweden!
Motherfucker.
Nusbaum: And what about the walls?
- (buzzing)
- Say again?
You know... the walls?
Are they two-inch thick
titanium made in Sweden?
Or, as I recall from the purchase orders,
made by an underpaid subcontractor
who skimped on building materials
so he could make a few bucks.
See you in a few minutes... buddy boy.
What the fuck was that?
Get your ass out there.
(growling)
Shit, y'all look in here.
I got shells everywhere.
Just... gotta get the goddamn keys.
Come on, Sam.
Fuck! Just fuck!
- (thuds)
- Stay put, okay.
All right, here we go. Here we go.
(screams)
Shit.
Come on, come on.
Come on.
(grunts)
Hey, Mo, can you give me a hand?
I don't know who I am anymore.
Hey, Mo, don't do this. We need you.
- I wall
- butted an old lady.
Who was biting you.
I sprayed cleaning
liquid into a man's eyes.
Who was attacking us.
I split a guy's neck
open with an axe. Oh, shit.
I thought we agreed we
weren't gonna talk about that.
- I'm a monster.
- No.
They are monsters.
You are my best friend here.
Behind Samantha and this dude
I used to smoke weed with.
- Who?
- Okay,
you're my third best friend.
I'm your third best friend?
That's awesome.
Well, if you want our third
best friendship to survive,
I need you in the game.
- Okay.
- Okay.
Yeah. -So come on, let me
see your war-face, right now.
Let me see it. Like this. Ready?
(yells)
Okay.
(weak groan)
- Okay. A bit more war
- like.
Okay. (weak yell)
- Great!
- (weak growl)
A for effort. Let's do this! Lentworth!
(weak growl)
Lentworth, get your ass
over here and give me a hand!
- What was that?
- Nothing.
Are you drinking the...
- Give me the can, Lentworth.
- No, look.
I just gotta get my job back!
Are you fucking out of your mind?
Maybe if I'll like them, I'll fit in!
- (thuds)
- (gasps)
Help me! Lentworth's going rogue!
Get your ass out there!
Keep 'em outta this office!
Lentworth: Do you know how much it costs
to go to Nevada and get a hooker?
And I got a mortgage and car payments
- and insurance!
- Plug the wall!
And I'm paying 60,000 bucks a year
for my daughter to study pottery
at Sarah fucking Lawrence!
Don't do this! Don't!
This is not the time for
me to be looking for work!
(yelling)
I'm one of you! I'm one of you!
- (groans)
- Whoa!
(gasps)
- (grunts)
- (groans)
All right, you motherfuckers.
- Come on, Mo.
- Nusbaum: You can run, but you can't hide.
Welcome to the penthouse, motherfuckers!
(gunshot)
Oh, shit.
- Mo: Oh.
- Gantt: Goddammit
Last opportunity to show
some collaboration, Mr. Gantt!
Mo: Hide behind the bush.
Bring me his thumb.
(all shouting)
(gunshot)
Which one of you fucks wants a taste?
- (both grunting)
- (gunshot)
Piss off!
Gantt: Yeah, run, you
sissy little fuckers.
A little help here?
(Mo yelps)
All y'all are fucking fired!
(screams)
Goddammit! You cut off my goddamn hand.
Goddamn.
This is a real nice office, Mr. Gantt.
Ah. I gotta get me one of these.
Gantt: I can't die like this.
I'm a goddamn war hero!
You never set foot in Iraq!
- I served!
- In Thailand!
Irrelevant!
- (gunshot)
- Hope you enjoyed the ladyboys.
- (growling)
- (whimpers)
Kill them.
Whoa! Whoa!
You got what you wanted.
The company's yours.
Now, let us walk, okay.
We hereby tender our resignations.
I think I speak for all of us when I say
we really don't want
to work for you anymore.
Oh, everyone's going to
be working for me, Desmond.
- What?
- Do you think
this pissant little bullet
factory is my endgame?
No, no, no, no, no, no.
I've got my sights set on
much, much bigger things.
So what, you're going to become
regional manager of the world?
You know, I do like the sound of that.
Excellent.
Deliver their heads to me!
(whimpers)
(all growling)
Back the fuck up!
First one to come cops
a bullet to the face.
- (snarling)
- Mo: There's 20 of them.
There's only one shell left in that gun,
and there's six of us!
Then I guess I'm gonna need more ammo.
(screaming)
(panting)
Holy shit, that's the
coolest thing I've ever seen.
- (Sam groans)
- Desmond: Oh, God.
Sam.
Just hang in there.
(gasps)
I don't feel well.
Sam? Hey.
(gasps) Come on, guys.
You have to kill me.
You're gonna make it,
okay. Just hang in there.
I'm gonna to get you help, okay. Trust me.
Sam?
Samantha?
Samantha.
(shouting, growling)
- (beeping)
- (clanking)
Well.
Thank you, Mr. Gantt.
(snarling)
Attention, all remaining
Ammotech employees.
We are now going into Stage Three:
Distribution! Total
saturation of all markets!
Local, regional,
national, and global!
Hey. Hey!
Oh, Jesus Christ, Samantha. Here.
(grunts)
What the fuck did you do?
Damn it!
No! I didn't do anything.
I did not do anything.
It was not supposed to be
administered to employees, okay.
But that little shit of a doctor,
he thinks that I screwed him
out of credit on the experiment.
- Did you?
- Well, yes, of course I did!
But, like, take me to
court, file a grievance,
like, go through the normal
channels on that shit.
Don't hand out weaponized soft drinks
to your colleagues!
Christ, I mean, that's out of line.
Don't even try to lay
it off on that nerd.
This is your fault!
(chuckles) My fault? Really?
Are you sure about that, Desmond?
This is the purchase order for
my boron silicate hydroxide,
which I have been trying to
put through your department
for the better part of a month.
Which, coincidentally,
I found in the trash can
outside my office this morning.
So what are you saying?
I'm saying...
we tested the formula, it worked fine,
but because we were on a deadline,
but we didn't have the right compounds now,
and we had to make...
we had to make do.
Make do?
With replacement chemicals.
That have a bit of a nasty side effect.
How do we undo it? That's
all I want to hear out of you.
Frohm: So, good news is,
she didn't ingest enough of it
to have it take full effect.
If she he still has enough unaffected,
then I might be able to bring her back.
What about everyone else?
Oh, the people who
consumed the full dosage?
- Yeah.
- You should forget about them.
They're dead. Their frontal lobe
looks like Octomom's vagina at this point.
Bad news is, her higher
motor functions are going
to continue to shut down,
and in about 30 minutes,
without the right antidote,
um... we might not be
able to bring her back.
What do you need to make a cure?
Okay. There it is.
One vial will do it,
but the more the better.
With that, I might be able
to rig a formula to reverse the effects.
But I don't know. The clock's ticking.
So all we have to do is
go in there and get it.
In there, yeah. Basically.
My God, he's got the whole
place running like clockwork.
Back in 30 minutes. Fucknuts. Come on.
Wait, you two are gonna take them all on?
That's great. We're all gonna die.
I can hear you.
(creaking)
(growling in distance)
(door closes)
It is true that there is no "I" in team.
However, there is an "I" in win.
We are only as strong
as the weakest link in our chain.
Man: Oh, shit.
Oh, Ralph.
So destroy the weakest link.
- No, wait. No, no. (screaming)
- (growling)
If I ever get out of here, I'm
definitely gonna go see a therapist.
Desmond: There it is.
This might be slightly more
difficult than I imagined.
Mr. Brimble and Mr. Haryana,
- hello.
- (growling stops)
Might I suggest the next time
you try to sneak up on someone,
you do it in a place
without security cameras.
All personnel, please report
to Section A-2. Thank you.
- Shit.
- Shit!
(growling)
Shit, shit, shit.
Come on. Fuck!
Step on it. Step on it.
You're obsessed with
this landmine bullshit.
And it's not gonna work!
(roaring)
Oh, I like my steak well-done!
And that's how I like my co-workers!
(yelling)
I hate you all!
This was poorly planned.
I'm just kidding! You guys are like family.
Desmond: Let's go. Quick.
(shouting)
Mo: Have a blessed day!
(snarls)
Desmond: Battle mode!
(screaming)
Duck!
Hang on!
(panting)
Let's go. Let's go!
Okay. Hold these.
(grunting, panting)
- Yes. Hey, Mo! I got it.
- (thudding footsteps)
Desmond!
- (cackles)
- Shit.
(screams, grunts)
(cackles)
Mr. Brimble! Since you continue
to prove yourself incapable
of fitting in with Ammotech culture...
now you die.
Are you kidding me?
- Run!
- (Nusbaum cackles)
(gunfire continues)
Oh. Oh. Oh.
What the hell is he wearing?
(Nusbaum continues cackling)
Hey, Mo!
(gunfire continues)
Catch!
Get it to Sam.
No, you can't stay here!
If we both run, he'll catch us,
but not if I keep his ass busy.
And besides, it's my fault.
- Someone's got to take responsibility...
- No, no, no, you convinced me.
I'm going.
It's been an honor
sharing a cubicle with you.
You too, buddy.
(gunfire continues)
(Nusbaum continues cackling)
Hey, boss!
Mr. Brimble!
So glad to see you finally taking
some initiative today, Desmond.
It's almost a shame
that I have to kill you.
(grunts)
What's up, playa!
(coughing)
(grunts)
(laughing)
Look at this shit. You're just gonna
let me beat your ass to
death right now, aren't you?
(grunts)
Guess what? I can roll with that, bro.
Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho!
You want some more?
Oh, come here, I got something for you.
- (grunts, pants)
- (Mo coughing)
This is exhausting.
You want more? Okay, I got more.
I got more. More for you, right here.
(keys jingling)
- (Mo coughing)
- Welcome to America!
Land of the free, bitch!
Come here!
- (grunts)
- (screams)
Marcus, because of your racism,
your thuggishness, and
your complete inability
to call me by the right fucking name,
I hereby sentence you
to a lot of fucking pain.
- (grunts)
- (screams)
Is that all you got?
(yelling)
That was my war-face, motherfucker!
(growling)
(roars)
Oh, looks like someone wants overtime.
I'll give you fucking
overtime! Come on! Come on!
Huh?!
Nusbaum: Over here, minions!
Hey, Nusbaum!
Guess who's been stealing
hundreds of dollars' worth
of company office supplies
since the day he started?
- (Nusbaum screaming)
- (gunfire)
(all snarling)
And in the past 16 months, I've done...
maybe six weeks' worth
of actual work. Tops.
You've been paying me mostly to
get high and work on my video game.
So, thank you.
(Nusbaum growls)
I guess it's time for my exit interview.
(gun clicks)
You've always been impeccably bad
at reading the instructions,
haven't you, Desmond?
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
(gun powers on)
Fuck instructions.
Bring it, Anusbaum!
(groaning)
Brimble, help me.
(both grunting)
Nusbaum: No! No!
Not now!
Hello, Marcus. So good to see you.
Marcus: Oh! Wait, wait.
Oh! I'm gonna tell my uncle! (sobbing)
Nusbaum: Teamwork makes the dream work!
(screaming, crying)
(bones crunching)
(Nusbaum roars)
Nusbaum: Shit!
Samantha! Sam!
- Are you okay now, or...
- No!
- Oh, shit!
- I'm just kidding, I'm fine.
Really. Mo gave me the antidote.
Should we get the fuck outta here?
That's funny, the noise you just made,
you were all like...
(Nusbaum roars)
Here, take this.
Yeah. Let's go.
- Spread the C
- 4 out. I'll blow it when he comes through.
Sam: Mo, over here. Come on. Hurry up.
He's coming.
- Okay, come on. Come on.
- Sam: Oh, shit.
(screaming)
Okay, come on. Let's go.
Sam: Oh, shit.
I hate this guy.
Come out, come out, wherever you are.
There is no way out.
Desmond: Mo, give me the triggers.
Hey, Nusbaum!
(beeping)
I quit.
(beeps)
Oh, shit. -Did either of you
put detonators into the C-4?
- Why doesn't anybody tell me these things?
- (gunfire)
Nusbaum: Desmond!
- You fail to realize...
- Move!
that I...
am too big...
- Go! Go! Go! Go! Come on!
- ...to fail!
Sam: Holy moley.
- Fuck you.
- (Sam chuckles)
(all laughing)
- Oh!
- (explosions continue)
Well, you were finally
on time for something.
I finally had something
to be on time for.
Oh, don't.
Please don't.
Okay, that's happening.
- So I'm just gonna...
- (siren wailing in distance)
Oh, okay.
Okay, I... I-I'll just be back here,
throwing up in my hands.
(sirens wailing)
Don't make me wait another 15 years
before you do that again.
Deal.
And why did you show Mo
your video game and not me?
Because Mo's a nerd.
- I'm a nerd.
- Okay.
Check it out.
(video game beeping on phone)
- (chimes)
- (Desmond laughing)
- It's so...
- Silly.
You.
Mo: Ah. Oh, that feels so good.
Oh! You guys have got to try this. Oh.
Ah, I met her on the boulevard
She had skin that she swore
to me just wouldn't scar
Said she was fly like carefree
And so I told her we should
link it up like Sharebee
Got it connected
and what I expected
It wasn't the message
and now it's getting hectic
I knew that she was lying
and underneath it all
I was dying to see
just what she was hiding
Ghost hunter, rum
runner, the one stunner
Met my match one kiss
I lost that summer
Every now and then
it make me wonder
If all the things she planned
just made me lose my lover
I summoned gods inside
to help the feelings reside
Say a little seance for
the others on the other side
And while my homies
say it's suicide
I play the Ouija
every time I'm with her
- Just to pass time
- She don't know that she's haunted
She don't know that I see
Come on, come on
Tells me that she sees monsters
And I pretend to agree
But she don't know
that she's haunted
I don't believe in haunted places
Only haunted people
with their backs
Against the pavement
And it takes
everything to face it
And every bone inside of me
To keep from trying to say shit
She's trying to make
me lose my patience
Outer exterior hiding
in lacerations
Same show different station
No matter where she go she
got the demons steady chasing
And rearranging
every piece of the maze
And trying to keep
it from changing
Whether or not she caves in
Baby seeing ghosts
like Demi Moore
But looks them over like
a kid up on a seesaw
I'm Ray Stantz trapping
ghosts with my shades on
You got demons well we all
can sing the same song
Underground it's
been dimmer there
Linda Blair hope that
you begin to hear
She don't know that she's haunted
She don't know that I see
Come on, come on
Tells me that she sees monsters
And I pretend to agree
Come on, come on
But she don't know
that she's haunted
She's haunted by her past
And I don't know why
She don't know she don't know, no
I let her walk on by
'Cause she doesn't know
She don't know that she's haunted
Ah, I met her on the boulevard
She had skin that she swore
to me just wouldn't scar
Said she was fly like carefree
And so I told her we should
link it up like Sharebee
Got it connected
and what I expected
It wasn't the message
and now it's getting hectic
I knew that she was lying
and underneath it all
I was dying to see
just what she was hiding
Ghost hunter, rum
runner the one stunner
Met my match one kiss
I lost that summer
Every now and then
it make me wonder
If all the things she planned
just made me lose my lover
I summoned gods inside
to help the feelings reside
Say a little seance for
the others on the other side
And while my homies
say it's suicide
I play the Ouija
every time I'm with her
- Just to pass time
- She don't know that she's haunted
She don't know that I see
Come on, come on
Tells me that she sees monsters
And I pretend to agree
But she don't know
that she's haunted
I don't believe in haunted places
Only haunted people
with their backs
Against the pavement
And it takes
everything to face it
And every bone inside of me
To keep from trying to say shit
She's trying to make
me lose my patience
Outer exterior hiding
in a lacerations
Same show different station
No matter where she go she
got the demons steady chasing
And rearranging
every piece of the maze
And trying to keep
it from changing
Whether or not she caves in
Baby seeing ghosts
like Demi Moore
But looks them over like
a kid up on a seesaw
I'm Ray Stantz trapping
ghosts with my shades on
You got demons well we all
can sing the same song
Underground it's
been dimmer there
Linda Blair hope that
you begin to hear
She don't know that she's haunted
She don't know that I see
Come on, come on
Tells me that she sees monsters
And I pretend to agree
I pretend to agree
But she don't know
that she's haunted
She don't know that she's haunted
She don't know that I see
Tells me that she sees monsters
I pretend to agree