"see them tumbling down pledging their love to the ground a way out west there was this fella, fella i want to tell you about, fella by the name of jeff lebowski, at least that was the handle" "that his loving parents gave him." "but he never had much use for it himself." "this lebowski, he called himself the dude." "now dude, that's a name no one would self-apply where i come from." "but then, there was a lot about the dude that didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, and a lot about where he lived, likewise." "along with the tumbling tumbleweed but then again, maybe that's why i found the place so dern interesting." "they call los angeles the city of angels." "i didn't find it to be that exactly." "but i'll allow there are some nice folks there." "'course i can't say i seen london, and i never been to france, and i ain't never seen no queen in her damned undies as the fella says." "but i'll tell you what, after seeing los angeles and this a-here story i'm about to unfold, well, i guess i seen somethin' every bit as stupefyin' as you'd see in any of those other places," "and in english, too." "so i can die with a smile on my face without feeling like the good lord gypped me." "now this here story i'm about to unfold took place back in the early nineties, just about the time of our conflict with saddam and the iraqis." "i only mention it 'cause sometimes there's a man, i won't say a hero, 'cause what's a hero?" "but sometimes there's a man, and i'm talking about the dude here, sometimes there's a man, well, he's the man for his time and place." "he fits right in there, and that's the dude, in los angeles." "and even if he's a lazy man, and the dude was most certainly that, quite possibly the laziest in los angeles county, which would place him high in the running for laziest worldwide." "but sometimes there's a man, sometimes..." "there's a man." "wow, lost my train of thought here." "but...ah, hell." "i done introduced him enough." "all for a collective action." "this will not stand." "this will not stand, this aggression against kuwait." "here on the range i belong drifting along with the tumbling tumbleweed" "aah!" "where's the money, lebowski?" "i want that money, lebowski." "bunny says you're good for it." "where's the money, lebowski?" "where's the money, lebowski?" "where's the fucking money, shithead?" "!" "well, it's, uh, ohh, uh, it's down there somewhere." "let me take another look." "don't fuck with us!" "your wife owes money to jackie treehorn, that means you own money to jackie treehorn." "ever thus to deadbeats, lebowski." "no, no, don't do that... not on the rug, man." "see?" "see what happens, lebowski?" "you see what happens?" "nobody calls me lebowski." "you got the wrong guy." "i'm the dude, man." "your name's lebowski, lebowski." "your wife is bunny." "my... my wife..." "my wife bunny?" "do you see a wedding ring on my finger?" "does this place look like i'm fucking married?" "the toilet seat's up, man." "what the fuck is this?" "obviously, you're not a golfer." "woo?" "yeah?" "isn't this guy supposed to be a millionaire?" "fuck!" "yeah, what do you think?" "he looks like a fucking loser." "hey, at least i'm housebroken." "fucking time wasted." "thanks a lot, asshole." "la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la" "la la la la la la la la la la la la" "the man in me will do nearly any task and as for compensation there's a little he would ask take a woman like you to get through to the man in me" "the storm clouds are raging all around my door i think to myself i might not take it anymore take a woman like your kind to find the man in me" "but, oh what a wonderful feeling" "just to know that you are near that sets my heart a-reelin' from my toes up to my ears the man in me will hide sometimes to keep from being seen but that's just because he doesn't want to turn into some machine" "take a woman like you to get through to the man in me" "whoo!" "i'm throwing rocks tonight." "mark it, dude." "this was a valued rug." "ahem. this was a... yeah, man, it really tied the room together." "so this was a valued, uh... what tied the room together, dude?" "my rug." "were you listening to the dude's story, donny?" "what?" "were you listening to the dude's story?" "i was bowling." "so you have no frame of reference here, donny." "you're like a child who wanders in in the middle of a movie... walter, what's the point, man?" "there's no reason..." "here's my point, dude... there's no fucking reason... yeah, walter, what's your point?" "huh?" "walter, what is the point... look, we all know who is at fault here." "what the fuck are you talking about?" "huh?" "no, what the fuck are you... i'm not... we're talking about unchecked aggression here, dude." "what the fuck is he talking about?" "my rug." "forget it, donny." "you're out of your element." "walter, the chinaman who peed on my rug, i can't go give him a bill." "so what the fuck are you talking about?" "what the fuck are you talking about?" "the chinaman is not the issue here, dude." "i'm talking about drawing a line in the sand, dude." "across this line, you do not... also, dude, chinaman is not the preferred nomenclature." "asian-american, please." "walter, this isn't a guy who built the railroads here, this is a guy... what the fuck are you talking... walter, he peed on my rug." "he peed on the dude's rug." "donny, you're out of your element." "dude, the chinaman is not the issue here." "so,who...who... jeff lebowski." "the other jeffrey lebowski, the millionaire." "that's fucking interesting, man." "that's fucking interesting." "plus, he has the wealth, obviously, and the resources, uh, so that there's no reason... there's no fucking reason why his wife should go out and owe money all over town, and then they come" "and they pee on your fucking rug!" "am i wrong?" "no." "am i wrong?" "yeah, but... ok, then. ahem." "that rug really tied the room together, did it not?" "fuckin' a!" "and this guy peed on it." "donny, please." "you know, this is the fucking guy... i could find this fucking lebowski guy." "his name is lebowski?" "that's your name, dude." "this is the guy who should compensate me for the fucking rug." "his wife goes out and owes money all over town, and they pee onmy rug?" "they pee on your fucking rug." "they pee on my fucking rug." "that's right, dude." "they peed on your fucking rug." "this is the study." "as you can see, the various commendations..." ""jeffrey lebowski"." "honorary degrees, etcetera." "hmm, very impressive." "oh, please feel free to inspect them." "hmm?" "oh, no, i'm not really that... oh, please, please." "that is the key to the city of pasadena, which mr. lebowski received 2 years ago in recognition of his various civic, uh... oh, that's the los angeles chamber of commerce business achiever award, which is given... oh, not necessarily given every year." "hey, is this, uh, is this him with nancy?" "yes, indeed, that is mr. lebowski with the first lady, yes." "it was taken when... that's, uh, lebowski on the left there?" "yeah, of course." "mr. lebowski on the left... so he's a cripple... uh, you know, a...a handicapped guy?" "mr. lebowski isdisabled, yes." "uh, this picture was taken when mrs. reagan was first lady of the nation, yes, yes." "not of california." "pope john." "uh, in fact, he met privately with the president, though unfortunately, there wasn't enough time for a photo opportunity." "oh, nancy's pretty good." "oh, wonderful woman." "we're very happy... these are, uh... oh, those are mr. lebowski's children, so to speak." "different mothers, huh?" "racially, pretty cool." "ha ha ha ha." "they're not literally his children." "they're the little lebowski urban achievers, inner-city children of promise but without the necessary means for... necessary means for a higher education." "so mr. lebowski is committed to sending all of them to college." "excuse me." "thank you. thank you." "far out." "think he's got room for one more?" "one, uh... oh. ha ha ha." "you never went to college." "please, don't touch that." "yeah, no, i did, but, you know, i spent most of my time, um, occupying various administration buildings, uh, smoking a lot of thai stick, breaking into the r.o.t.c., and bowling." "to tell you the truth, brandt, i don't remember most of it." "oh." "hmm." "ok, sir, you're a lebowski, i'm a lebowski, that's terrific." "but i'm very busy, as i imagine you are." "what can i do for you, sir?" "uh, well, sir, it's, uh, this rug i have." "it really tied the room together. uh... you told brandt on the phone, he told me." "where do i fit in?" "well, uh, they were... they were looking for you, these 2 guys." "uh... i'll say it again." "you told brandt on the phone, he told me." "i know what happened." "yes?" "yes?" "oh, so you know that they were trying to piss on your rug?" "did i urinate on your rug?" "you mean, did you personally come and pee on my rug?" "hello!" "do you speak english, son?" "parla usted ingles?" "i'll ask you again." "did i urinate on your rug?" "no, like i said, woo peed on my rug." "i just want to understand this, sir." "every time a rug is micturated upon in this fair city, i have to compensate the person... come on, man, i'm not trying to scam anybody here." "uh, you know, i...i was just... you were just looking for a handout like every other... are you employed, mr. lebowski?" "uh, wait, let me... let me explain something to you." "i am not mr. lebowski." "you're mr. lebowski." "i'm the dude. so that's what you call me, you know, uh, that or, uh, his dudeness, or, uh, duder, or, you know, uh, el duderino," "if you're not into the whole brevity thing." "are you employed, sir?" "employed?" "ha ha." "you don't go out looking for a job dressed like that, do you, on a weekday?" "is this a..." "what day is this?" "well, i do work, sir." "so if you don't mind... no, i do mind." "uh, the dude minds." "this will not stand, you know." "this aggression will not stand, man." "i mean, your wife owes... my wife is not the issue here!" "i hope that someday my wife will learn to live on her allowance, which is ample, but if she does not, that is her problem, not mine, just as the rug is your problem, just as every bum's lot in life" "is his own responsibility, regardless of who he chooses to blame." "i didn't blame anyone for the loss of my legs." "some chinaman took them from me in korea." "but i went out and achieved anyway." "ha ha ha." "i cannot solve your problems, sir, only you can." "oh, fuck it." "oh, fuck it." "yes, that's your answer." "that's your answer to everything." "tattoo it on your forehead." "your revolution is over, mr. lebowski!" "condolences!" "the bums lost!" "my advice to you is to do what your parents did!" "get a job, sir!" "the bums will always lose!" "do you hear me, lebowski?" "!" "the bums will always lose!" "how was your meeting, mr. lebowski?" "ok. the old man told me to take any rug in the house." "well, enjoy, and perhaps we'll see you again sometime, dude." "yeah, sure, uh, if i'm in the neighborhood, you know, and, uh... i need to use the john." "blow on them." "huh?" "go ahead, blow." "you want me to blow on your, uh, toes?" "uh-huh. ha ha ha." "i can't blow that far." "are you sure he won't mind?" "he really doesn't care about anything." "he's a nihilist." "oh, and that must be exhausting." "you're not blowing." "our guest has to be getting along, mrs. lebowski." "oh, you're bunny." "i'll suck your cock for $1,000." "ha ha ha ha ha." "wonderful woman." "we're all...we're all very fond of her." "very free-spirited." "brandt can't watch, though, or he has to pay 100." "ha ha ha." "that's marvelous." "uh, i'm just gonna go find a cash machine." "whoo!" "ha ha!" "slamming them tonight." "you guys are dead in the water." "all right!" "way to go, donny!" "if you will it, it is no dream." "you're fucking 20 minutes late, man." "what the fuck is that?" "theodore herzel." "huh?" "the state of israel." "if you will it, dude, it is no dream." "what the fuck you talking about, man?" "the carrier. what's in the fucking carrier?" "hmm?" "oh, cynthia's dog." "i think it's a pomeranian." "i can't leave him home alone or he eats the furniture." "i'm watching it while cynthia and marty ackerman are in hawaii." "you brought a fucking pomeranian bowling?" "what do you mean, "brought it bowling"?" "i didn't rent it shoes, i'm not buying it a fucking beer, he's not taking your fucking turn, dude." "man, if my fucking ex-wife asked me to take care of her fucking dog while she and her boyfriend went to honolulu, i'd tell her to go fuck herself." "why can't she board it?" "first of all, dude, you don't have an ex." "secondly, this is a fucking show dog with fucking papers." "you can't board it." "it gets upset." "its hair falls out." "walter... the fucking dog has fucking papers." "over the line!" "huh?" "i'm sorry, smokey, you were over the line." "that's a foul." "bullshit." "mark it 8, dude." "uh, excuse me, mark it zero. next frame." "bullshit, walter." "mark it 8, dude." "smokey, this is not 'nam, this is bowling." "there are rules." "hey, walter, come on, it's just... hey, man, it's smokey." "so his toe slipped over a little." "you know, it's just a game, man." "this is a league game." "this determines who enters the next round-robin." "am i wrong?" "yeah, but i wasn't... am i wrong?" "yeah, but i wasn't over." "give me the marker, dude." "i'm marking an 8." "smokey, my friend, you're entering a world of pain." "walter, man." "you mark that frame an 8, you're entering a world of pain." "i'm not... a world of pain." "look, dude, this is your partner." "has the whole world gone crazy?" "!" "am i the only one around here who gives a shit about the rules?" "!" "mark it zero!" "they're calling the cops, man." "put the piece away." "mark it zero!" "walter, put the piece away." "walter... you think i'm fucking around here?" "mark it zero!" "all right, it's fucking zero." "you happy, you crazy fuck?" "it's a league game, smoke." "you can't do that, man." "these guys, you know, they're like me." "they're pacifists." "smokey was a conscientious objector." "you know, dude, i, myself, dabbled in pacifism at one point, not in 'nam, of course." "and you know he's got emotional problems, man." "you mean, beyond pacifism?" "he's fragile, very fragile." "huh. i did not know that." "well, it's all water under the bridge, and we do enter the next round-robin." "am i wrong?" "no, you're not wrong." "am i wrong?" "you're not wrong, walter, you're just an asshole!" "ok, then." "we play quintana and o'brien next week." "they should be pushovers." "man, will you just... just take it easy, man." "you know, that's your answer for everything, dude." "and let me point out something." "pacifism is not..." "look at our current situation with that camelfucker in iraq." "pacifism is not something to hide behind." "just take it easy, man." "i'm perfectly calm, dude." "yeah, waving the fucking gun around?" "calmer than you are." "will you just take it easy?" "calmer than you are." "dude, this is smokey." "look, i don't want to be a hard-on about this, and i know it wasn't your fault, but i just thought it was fair to tell you that gilbert and i will be submitting this to the league" "and asking them to set aside the round, i don't know, maybe forfeit it to us." "so, like i say, just thought, you know, fair warning." "tell walter. i'm sorry." "mr. lebowski, this is brandt at, uh, well, at mr. lebowski's office." "please call us as soon as it's convenient." "mr. lebowski, this is bill selliger of the southern cal bowling league, and i just got uh, an informal report that a member of your team, a waiter sobchak, drew a firearm during league play." "if this is true, of course, it contravenes a number of the league's bylaws and also article 27 of the league... dude." "hey, monty." "dude, i...i finally got..." "i got the, uh, the venue i wanted." "i'm performing my dance quintet, you know, my cycle, at crane jackson's fountain street theater on tuesday night, and, well, i'd love it if you came and gave me notes." "i'll be there, man." "uh... dude, uh, tomorrow's already the 10th." "far out." "oh. oh, all right, ok." "just, uh, just slip the rent under my door." "...serious infraction and examine your standing." "thank you." "mr. lebowski, brandt again." "please do call us as soon as you get in, and i'll send a limo." "i hope you're not avoiding this call because of the rug..." "ha ha ha... which, i assure you, is not a problem." "we need your help, and, uh... well, we'd very much like to see you." "thank you." "it's brandt." "we've had some terrible news." "mr. lebowski's in seclusion in the west wing." "mr. lebowski." "funny... i can look back on a life of achievement, challenges met, competitors bested, obstacles overcome." "i've accomplished more than most men and without the use of my legs." "what... what makes a man, mr. lebowski?" "dude." "huh?" "uh, i...i don't know, sir." "is it being prepared to do the right thing?" "whatever the cost?" "isn't that what makes a man?" "mmm, sure, that and a pair of testicles." "you're joking." "but... perhaps you're right." "you mind if i do a "j"?" "bunny... excuse me?" "bunny lebowski, she is the light of my life." "are you surprised at my tears, sir?" "fuckin' a." "strong men also cry." "strong men also cry." "i received this fax this morning." "as you can see, it is a ransom note." ""we have bunnie"." "written by men who are unable to achieve on a level field of play." ""gather one million dollars in unmarked, nonconsecutive twenties"." "weaklings." ""await instructions"." "bums!" ""no funny stuff"." "bummer." "huh?" "this is a bummer, man." "that's, uh, that's a bummer." "brandt will fill you in on the details." "mr. lebowski is prepared to make a generous offer to you to act as courier once we get instructions for the money." "why me, man?" "he believes the culprits might be the very people who, uh..." "soiled your rug, and you're in a unique position to confirm or disconfirm that suspicion." "he thinks the carpet pissers did this?" "well, dude, we just don't know." "fucking quintana." "that creep can roll, man." "yeah, but he's a pervert, dude." "yeah." "no. he's a sex offender with a record." "he did 6 months at chino for exposing himself to an 8-year-old." "when he moved to hollywood, he had to go door-to-door to tell everyone he was a pederast." "what's a pederast, walter?" "shut the fuck up, donny." "so... how much they give you?" "20 grand, man." "and, of course, i still get to keep the rug." "just for making the hand-off?" "yeah. they gave, uh, dude a beeper." "now, so whenever these guys call... what if it's during a game?" "oh, i told them if it was during league play... what's during league play?" "life does not stop and start at your convenience, you miserable piece of shit." "i figure, uh... what's wrong with walter, dude?" "i figure it's easy money." "it's all pretty harmless." "she probably kidnapped herself." "huh?" "what do you mean, dude?" "rug pee-ers did not do this." "look at it." "a young trophy wife marries this guy for his money." "she figures he isn't giving her enough." "you know, she owes money all over town." "that fuckin'..." "bitch." "it's all goddamn fake, man." "it's like lenin said." "you look for the person who will benefit, and, uh, uh, you know... i am the walrus?" "you know, you'll, uh, uh... you know what i'm trying to say." "i am the walrus." "that fuckin' bitch!" "oh, yeah." "i am the walrus." "shut the fuck up, donny!" "v.i. lenin. vladimir ilyich ulyanov!" "what the fuck is he talking about?" "fucking exactly what happened." "that makes me fucking sick." "what do you care, walter?" "those rich fucks." "this whole fuckin' thing." "i did not watch my buddies die facedown in the mud so that this fucking strumpet, this fucking whore... i don't see any connection to vietnam, man." "well, there's a literal connection." "no, walter, face it, there isn't any connection." "your roll." "have it your way, but my point is... your roll." "your roll." "my point is... are you ready to be fucked, man?" "i see you roll your way into the semis." "dios mio, man." "liam and me, we're gonna fuck you up." "yeah?" "well...you know, that's just like, uh... your opinion, man." "let me tell you something,pendejo, you pull any crazy shit with us, you flash a piece out on the lanes, i'll take it away from you and stick it up your ass and pull the fuckin' trigger" "till it goes click." "jesus." "you said it, man." "nobody fucks with the jesus." "8-year-olds, dude." "la-la la-la-la-la la la la la-la-la-la la la la la la la-la-la-la-la la la la la" "la la la la-la-la-la la la la la la-la" "the man in me will do nearly any task and as for compensation there's little he will ask aah!" "take a woman like you to get through to the man in me" "the storm clouds are raging all around my door i think to myself i might not take it anymore take a woman like your kind to find the man in me" "but oh-ohh what a wonderful feeling" "just to know that you are near... ohh, man." "ohh!" "ohh... they called about 80 minutes ago." "they want you to take the money, drive north on the 405." "they will call you on the portable phone with instructions in about 40 minutes." "one person only. they were very clear on that, or i'd go with you." "one person only." "what happened to your jaw?" "oh, nothin', you know." "here's the money." "and the phone." "please, dude, follow whatever instructions they give." "all right." "her life is in your hands." "oh, man, don't say that." "mr. lebowski asked me to repeat that." "her life is in your hands." "oh, shit, man." "her life is in your hands, dude." "report back to us as soon as it's done." "where the fuck are you goin', man?" "take the ringer." "i'll drive." "what?" "the what?" "the ringer." "the ringer, dude." "have they called yet?" "what the... what the hell is this?" "my dirty undies, dude." "laundry." "the whites." "walter, i'm sure there's a reason you brought your dirty undies, man." "that's right, dude." "the weight." "the ringer cannot look empty." "walter, what the fuck are you thinking, man?" "you're right, dude." "i got to thinking." "i got to thinking why should we settle for a measly fuckin' 20 grand... we?" "what the fuck we?" "you said you just wanted to come along." "my point, dude, is why should we settle for 20 grand when we can keep the entire million?" "am i wrong?" "yes, you're wrong." "this isn't a fuckin' game, man." "oh, but it is a game." "you said so yourself." "she kidnapped herself." "i said i thought... dude here." "who is this?" "dude the bagman, man." "where do you want us to go?" "us?" "shit!" "yeah, you know, me and the driver." "i'm not handling the money, driving the car, and talking on the phone all by my... shut the fuck up!" "dude, are you fuckin' this up?" "who is that?" "that is the driver." "i told you... shit!" "what the fuck's goin' on?" "walter!" "what the fuck is goin' on?" "he hung up, man!" "you fucked it up!" "you fucked it up!" "her life was in our hands, man." "easy, dude." "we're screwed now." "we don't get shit." "they're gonna kill her." "we're fucked, walter." "nothing is fucked, dude." "come on, you're being very undude." "they'll call back." "look, she kidnapped... you see?" "nothing's fucked here, dude." "nothing is fucked." "they're a bunch of fuckin' amateurs!" "hey, walter, will you just shut the fuck up?" "don't say peep while i'm doin' business here, man." "ok, dude, have it your way." "but they're amateurs." "fuck." "dude." "ok, we proceed." "but only if there's no funny stuff." "yeah, yeah." "so no funny stuff, ok?" "just tell me where the fuck you want us to go." "that was the sign, man." "so all we gotta do is get her back, no one's in a position to complain, and we keep the baksheesh." "yeah, terrific, walter, but you haven't told me how we're gonna get her back." "where is she?" "that's the simple part, dude." "we make the hand-off, i grab one of 'em, beat it out of him." "huh?" "yeah. that's a great plan." "walter, that's fucking ingenious, if i understand it correctly." "it's a swiss fuckin' watch." "that's right, dude." "the beauty of this is its simplicity." "once a plan gets too complex, everything can go wrong." "if there's one thing i learned in 'nam, it's... dude." "you're coming to a wooden bridge." "when you cross the bridge, you throw the bag from the left window of the moving car." "you're being watched." "fuck!" "what'd he say?" "where's the hand-off?" "there is no fuckin' hand-off, man." "at the wooden bridge, we throw the money out of the car." "huh?" "we throw the money out of the moving car." "no, we can't do that, dude." "that fucks up our plan." "well, call 'em up and explain it to them, walter." "your plan is so fuckin' simple i'm sure they'll fuckin' understand it." "that's the beauty of it." "wooden bridge, huh?" "i'm throwin' the money, walter." "we're not fuckin' around, man." "ok, dude, bridge is comin' up." "give me the ringer, chop-chop." "fuck that, walter." "i love ya, but sooner or later you're gonna have to face the fact you're a goddamn moron." "ok, dude." "no time to argue." "hey, man." "the bridge." "hey, walter!" "hey!" "walter, hey!" "there goes the ringer!" "what the fuck?" "!" "here, dude, your wheel." "at 15 mph, i roll out." "i double back, grab one, and beat it out of him." "the uzi." "uzi?" "!" "you didn't think i was rolling out of here naked?" "w-walter, please... 15, dude. this is it." "let's take that hill!" "whoo-hoo-oo." "aah...aah." "we have it!" "we have it!" "we have it!" "we...have it!" "aw, fuck it, dude." "let's go bowling." "ah." "etz chaim he, dude, as the ex used to say." "what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" "what the fuck are we gonna tell lebowski?" "huh?" "oh, him. uh... well, uh, what exactly is the problem?" "the problem is... what do you mean, what's the... there was no... we...we didn't, uh... they're gonna kill that poor woman, man." "what the fuck are you talking about?" "the poor woman... that poorslut kidnapped herself." "come on, dude, you said so yourself." "man, i said i thought she kidnapped herself." "you're the one who's so fuckin' certain." "that's right, dude." "100% certain." "they posted the next round for the tournament." "donny, shut the fuck..." "when do we play?" "this saturday." "quintana and... saturday?" "well, they have to reschedule." "walter, what am i gonna tell lebowski?" "i told that fuck down at the league office... who's in chargewalter..." "of scheduling?" "burkhalter." "i told that kraut a fuckin' thousand times i don't roll onshabbos." "he alreadywalter..." "posted it." "well, he can fuckin' unpost it!" "who gives a shit?" "!" "they're gonna kill that poor woman, man." "what am i gonna tell lebowski?" "come on, dude, eventually she'll get tired of her little game and, you know, wander on back." "how come you don't roll on saturday, walter?" "i'mshomer shabbos." "what's that, walter?" "yeah, and in the meantime, what do i tell lebowski?" "saturday, donny, isshabbos, the jewish day of rest." "that means i don't work, i don't drive a car, i don't fuckin' ride in a car, i don't handle money, i don't turn on the oven, and i sure as shit don't fucking roll!" "sheesh." "shomer shabbos!" "walter, how am i gonna... shomer fuckingshabbos." "oh, fuck!" "that's it!" "i'm outta here." "oh, come on, dude." "dude!" "dude!" "look, you just tell him... tell him we made the drop, and everything went, you know... oh, yeah, how'd it go?" "went all right. dude's car got a little dinged up." "walter, we didn't make the fuckin' hand-off, man." "they didn't get the fuckin' money!" "and they're gonna..." "they're gonna... they're gonna kill that poor woman." "they're gonna kill that poor woman hey, walter, if you can't ride in a car, how do you get around onshammos?" "really, dude, you surprise me." "they're not gonna kill shit, they're not gonna do shit." "what can they do to her?" "they're a bunch of fuckin' amateurs, and meanwhile, look at the bottom line." "who's sittin' on a million fucking dollars?" "am i wrong?" "walter... who's got a fuckin' million fuckin' dollars sitting in the trunk of our car?" "our car, walter?" "and what do they got?" "my dirty undies." "my fuckin' whites." "say, dude." "whereis your car?" "who's got your undies, walter?" "where's your car, dude?" "you don't know, walter?" "it was parked in a handicap zone." "perhaps they towed it." "you fuckin' know it's been stolen." "well, certainly that's a possibility, dude." "oh, fuck it." "where you goin', dude?" "i'm goin' home, donny." "phone's ringing, dude." "thank you, donny." "uh... yeah, uh... green." "some, uh, brown or... rust coloration." "and was there anything of value in the car?" "oh. uh, yeah." "uh...a tape deck, some creedence tapes, and there was a, uh... uh, my briefcase." "in the briefcase?" "uh, uh, papers." "you know, um, just papers." "uh, you know, uh, my papers." "business papers." "and what do you do, sir?" "i'm unemployed." "my rug was also stolen." "your rug was in the car?" "no, here." "separate incidents?" "the dude is not in." "do you find them much, these stolen cars?" "sometimes." "wouldn't hold out much hope for the tape deck, though." "or the creedence." "well, what about, uh... the briefcase?" "mr. lebowski, i'd like to see you." "call when you get home, and i'll send a car for you." "my name is maude lebowski." "i'm the one who took your rug." "whoa." "guess we can close the file on that one." "huh." "elfranco, ay`dame abajo." "i'll be with you in a moment, mr. lebowski." "does the female form make you uncomfortable, mr. lebowski?" "uh, is that what this is a picture of?" "in a sense, yes." "my art has been commended as being strongly vaginal, which bothers some men." "the word itself makes some men uncomfortable." "vagina." "oh, yeah?" "yes, they don't like hearing it and find it difficult to say, whereas without batting an eye, a man will refer to his dick or his rod or his...johnson." "johnson?" "all right, mr. lebowski." "let's get down to cases." "my father told me he agreed to let you have the rug, but as it was a gift from me to my late mother, it was not his to give." "now... your face." "as for this kidnapping... huh?" "yes, i know all about it, and i know that you acted as courier." "let me tell you something." "the whole thing stinks to high heaven." "yeah... right, but let me explain something about the rug." "do you like sex, mr. lebowski?" "excuse me?" "sex. the physical act of love. coitus." "do you like it?" "i was talking about my rug." "you're not interested in sex?" "you mean coitus?" "i like it, too." "it's a male myth about feminists that we hate sex." "it can be a natural, zesty enterprise." "however, there are some people... it is called satyriasis in men, nymphomania in women... who engage in it compulsively and without joy." "oh, no." "oh, yes, mr. lebowski." "these unfortunate souls cannot love in the true sense of the word." "our mutual acquaintance bunny is one of these." "listen, maude, um, i'm sorry if your stepmother is a nympho, but, you know, i don't see what this has to do with, uh... do you have any kahlua?" "take a look at this, sir." "hmm?" "oh, i know that guy." "he's a nihilist." "hi." "hello. meine dispatcher says there's something wrong mitt deine kable." "yeah, come on in." "i'm not really sure exactly what's really wrong with the cable." "zat's why they sent me." "i am an expert." "the tv's in here." "you recognize her, of course." "oh, that's my friend shari." "she just came over to use the shower." "the story is ludicrous." "meine nommen is karl." "ich bin expert." "you must be here to fix the cable." "lord, you can imagine where it goes from here." "he fixes the cable?" "don't be fatuous, jeffrey." "little matter to me that this woman chose to pursue a career in pornography nor that she has been "banging" jackie treehorn, to use the parlance of our times, however, i am one of the 2 trustees of the lebowski foundation," "the other being my father." "the foundation takes youngsters from watts and... shit, yeah, the achievers." "little lebowski urban achievers, yes, and proud we are of all of them, i asked my father about his withdrawal of $1 million from the foundation account, and he told me about this abduction." "but i tell you, it is preposterous." "this compulsive fornicator is taking my father for the proverbial ride." "yeah, but my... i'm getting to your rug." "my father and i don't get along." "he doesn't approve of my lifestyle, and, needless to say, i don't approve of his." "however, i hardly wish to make my father's embezzlement a police matter, so i'm proposing that you try to recover the money from the people you delivered it to." "well, uh, i could do that." "if you successfully do so, i will compensate you to the tune of 10% of the recovered sum." "a hundred... thousand. yes." "bones or clams or whatever you call them." "yeah, but...but, uh... what about my, uh... your rug, yes." "well, with that money you can buy any number of rugs that don't have sentimental value for me." "and i am sorry about that crack on the jaw." "oh, th-that's fine." "that doesn't even, uh... here's the name and number of a doctor who will look at it for you." "you will receive no bill." "he's a good man, and thorough." "th-that's thoughtful, but... please see him, jeffrey." "he's a good man, and thorough." "oh, well... all right." "all right." "so he says, "my wife's a pain in the ass." ""she's always bustin' my friggin' agates." ""my daughter's married to a real loser bastard," ""and i got a rash so bad on my ass" ""i can't even sit down." "but you know me, i can't complain"." "ah, fuckin' a, man." "i got a rash, man." "fuckin' a." "i gotta tell you, tone, man, earlier in the day, i was really feeling shitty, man." "really down in the dumps." "lost a little money... hey, you know what?" "forget about it, huh?" "forget about it." "yeah, fuck it, man." "i can't be worried about that shit." "life goes on, man." "home, sweet home, mr. I." "hey, yo. look." "who's your friend in the volkswagen?" "huh?" "yeah, he followed us here." "when did he start foll..." "aah!" "what the fuck?" "!" "in the limo, you son of a bitch. no arguing." "hey, careful, man." "there's a beverage here." "hey!" "start talking and talk fast, you lousy bum." "we've been frantically trying to reach you, dude." "where's my goddamn money, you bum?" "!" "well, we... i...i...i... they did not receive the money, you nitwit!" "they did not receive the money!" "her life was in your hands!" "this is our concern, dude." "no, man, nothing is fucked here." "nothingis fucked?" "!" "no, man." "the goddamn plane has crashed into the mountain!" "look, man, come on." "who are you gonna believe, those guys or, uh... we dropped off the damn money." "we?" "!" "i." "the royal we." "you know, the editorial." "i dropped off the money exactly as per... look. man, i've got certain information, all right?" "certain things have come to light, and... you know, has it ever occurred to you that instead of, uh, you know, running around, uh, blaming me, given the nature of all this new shit," "th-th-this could be a lot more, uh... uh, uh, uh, complex?" "i mean, it might not be just such a simple, uh, you know?" "what in god's holy name are you blathering about?" "well, i'll tell you what i'm blathering about." "i've got information, man." "new shit has come to light." "and...and, shit, man... she kidnapped herself." "well, sure, man." "look at it. you know, a young trophy wife... in the parlance of our times, you know... she, uh, uh, uh, owes money all over town, including to known pornographers." "and that's cool." "that-that's cool." "i'm saying, she needs money, man." "and...and, you know, of course they're gonna say they didn't get it, uh, uh, because she wants more, man." "she's gotta feed the monkey." "i mean, uh... hasn't that ever occurred to you, man?" "sir?" "no, mr. lebowski, it had not occurred to me." "that had not occurred to us, dude." "well, ok, you know, you guys aren't privy to all the new shit, so... uh, you know. but... hey, that's what you..." "that's what you pay me for." "speaking of which, do you think that you could, uh, give me my 20,000 in cash?" "my concern is...and i gotta check with my accountant... but this might bump me into a higher tax, uh... brandt... give him the envelope." "oh, well, if you've already got the check made out, th-that's cool." "we received this this morning." "since you have failed to achieve, even in the modest task which was your charge, since you have stolen my money, since you have unrepentantly betrayed my trust... i have no choice but to tell these bums to do whatever is necessary" "to recover their money fromyou, jeffrey lebowski." "and with brandt as my witness, i will tell you this:" "any further harm visited upon bunny will be visited tenfold upon your head." "by god, sir, i will not abide another toe." "i hear the cottonwoods whispering' above that wasn't her toe, dude." "whose toe was it, walter?" "how the fuck should i know?" "i do know that nothing about it indicates... man, the nail polish, walter." "fine, dude." "as if it's impossible to get some nail polish, apply it to someone else's toe." "someone else's... where the fuck are they gonna get... you want a toe?" "i can get you a toe." "believe me, there are ways, dude." "you don't wanna know about it, believe me." "hell, i can get you a toe by 3:00 this afternoon, with nail polish." "these fuckin' amateurs." "walter... they send us a toe, we're supposed to shit ourselves with fear." "jesus christ.walter... now, the point is... they're gonna kill her, walter, and then they're gonna kill me." "dude... that's... that's just the stress talking, man." "now so far we have what appears to me to be a series of victimless crimes." "what about the toe?" "forget about the fucking toe!" "excuse me, sir, could you please keep your voices down?" "this is a family restaurant." "oh, please, dear." "for your information, the supreme court has roundly rejected prior restraint!" "walter, this is not a first amendment thing." "if you don't calm down, i'm gonna have to ask you to leave." "lady, i got buddies who died face down in the muck so you and i could enjoy this family restaurant!" "all right, i'm outta here." "hey, dude, don't go away, man." "come on, this affects all of us, man." "our basic freedoms!" "i'm stayin'." "i'm finishing my coffee." "enjoying my coffee." "the dude is not in." "leave a message after the beep." "thanks, man." "mr. lebowski, this is duty officer rolvaag of the lapd." "we've recovered your automobile." "it can be claimed at the north hollywood auto circus there on victory." "far out, man." "far fucking out!" "hey!" "this is a private residence, man." "ah, nice marmot." "aah!" "aaaahhh!" "ve vant the money, lebowski." "ve vant the money, lebowski." "aah!" "you think ve are kidding or making with the funny stuff?" "there are things you haven't dreamed of, lebowski." "ja. ve believe in nothing." "he believes in nothing, lebowski, nothing." "and tomorrow ve come back and ve cut off your chonson." "excuse me?" "i said we'll cut off your johnson!" "just think about that, lebowski." "ja, your viggly penis, lebowski." "ja, and maybe we stomp on it and sqoosh it, lebowski." "it was discovered last night in van nuys lodged against an abutment." "oh, man, lodged where?" "you're lucky she didn't get chopped, mr. lebowski." "oh, man!" "must've been a joyride situation." "they abandoned the vehicle once they hit the retaining wall." "oh, my fucking briefcase!" "man, it's not here." "shit!" "yeah, i saw that on the report. sorry." "you gotta get in on the other side." "the side-view was found on the road by the car." "you're lucky they left the tape deck, though, and the creedence." "aw, jesus!" "what's that smell, man?" "probably a vagrant slept in the car or maybe just used it as a toilet and moved on." "hey, man... are you gonna find these guys or, you know, i mean, you got any promising, uh, leads or... leads?" "yeah. sure." "i'll just check with the boys down at the crime lab." "they, uh, got 4 more detectives working on the case." "they got us working in shifts." "ha ha ha!" "leads." "my only hope is that the big lebowski kills me before the germans can cut my dick off." "now, that is just ridiculous, dude." "no one's going to cut your dick off." "thank you, walter." "not if i have anything to say about it." "thank you, walter." "that makes me feel very secure." "dude." "that makes me feel very warm inside." "now, dude." "this whole fuckin' thing." "i could be sitting here with just pee stains on my rug." "yeah." "but, no, man, i gotta, you know." "fucking germans." "nothing changes." "fucking nazis." "they were nazis, dude?" "oh, come on, donny." "they were threatening castration." "are we gonna split hairs here?" "no." "am i wrong?" "well, he...he... they were nihilists, man." "huh?" "they kept saying they believed in nothing." "nihilists." "fuck me." "i mean, say what you want about the tenets of national socialism, dude." "at least it's an ethos." "and also, let's not forget... let'snot forget, dude... that keeping wildlife, um, an amphibious rodent for, um, you know, domestic... within the city... that ain't legal either." "what are you, a fucking park ranger now?" "no, i'm just trying... who gives a shit about the fucking marmot?" "we are sympathizing here, dude." "fuck sympathy." "i don't need your fucking sympathy, man." "i need my fucking johnson." "what do you need that for, dude?" "you have got to buck up, man!" "you cannot drag this negative energy into the tournament." "fuck the tournament." "fuck you, walter." "fuck the tournament?" "ok, dude. i can see you don't want to be cheered up here." "come on, donny." "let's go get us a lane." "another caucasian, gary." "right, dude." "friends like these, huh, gary?" "that's right, dude." "do you have a good sarsaparilla?" "sioux city sarsaparilla?" "yeah. that'sa good one." "how you doin' there, dude?" "not too good, man." "one of those days, huh?" "yeah." "well... a wiser fella than myself once said," ""sometimes you eat the bar and..."" "much obliged." ""and sometimes the bar, well... he eats you"." "hmm. that some kind of eastern thing?" "far from it." "i like your style, dude." "hmm. well... i dig your style, too, man." "you got a whole cowboy thing going." "thankie." "there's just one thing, dude." "and what's that?" "do you have to use so many cuss words?" "what the fuck are you talking about?" "ok, dude, have it your way." "take her easy, dude." "yeah. thanks, man." "call for you, dude." "hello?" "jeffrey, you have not gone to the doctor." "uh, oh, yeah." "no...no, i haven't yet." "uh... i'd like to see you immediately." "oh?" "so you're lebowski." "yeah." "maude has told me all about you." "she'll be back in a minute. sit down." "do you want a drink?" "yeah, sure." "white russian." "the bar's over there." "so what do you do, lebowski?" "who the fuck are you, man?" "just a friend of maudie's." "yeah, the friend with the cleft asshole?" "what doyou do?" "oh, nothing much." "hello, jeffrey." "hello." "yeah, how are you?" "um... listen, maude, i got to, uh... tender my resignation or whatever, because, uh...it looks like your mother really was kidnapped after all." "she most certainly was not." "hey, man, why don't you fucking... listen occasionally?" "you might learn something." "now, i got... please don't call her my mother." "she's most definitely the perpetrator and not the victim." "i'm telling you, i got pretty definitive evidence... from who?" "from the main guy..." "oolie." "oolie coco?" "her costar in the beaver picture?" "beaver?" "you mean vagina... i mean, you know the guy?" "i might have introduced them for all i know." "do you remember oolie?" "hmm." "he's a musician. used to have a group...autobahn." "look in my lps." "they released one album in the late seventies." "their music is sort of a...ugh...technopop." "so he's pretending to be the abductor?" "well, yeah." "look, jeffrey, you don't really kidnap someone you're acquainted with." "the whole idea is that the hostage can't be able to identify you after you've let them go." "i know that." "what the fuck is with this guy?" "who is he?" "knox harrington." "the video artist." "so oolie has the money?" "well... uh, no, not exactly." "uh... this is a very complicated case, maude." "a lot of ins, a lot of outs, a lot of what-have-yous, and, uh, a lot of, uh, strands to keep in my head, man." "a lot of strands in old duder's head." "hello?" "if oolie doesn't have it, then who does?" "ha ha ha ha!" "it's sandra, about the bearnali." "uh, look, i have to take this." "do you still have that doctor's number?" "oh. no, really. it's not even bruised anymore." "oh, please, jeffrey, i don't want to be responsible for any delayed after-effects." "after-effects?" "ha ha ha ha ha!" "ha ha ha ha ha!" "could you slide your shorts down, mr. lebowski, please?" "hmm?" "no. no, man." "she hit me right here." "i understand." "could you slide your shorts down, please?" "just got home from illinois lock the front door, oh, boy got to sit down, take a rest on the porch imagination sets in pretty soon i'm singin' doo doo doo lookin' out my back door" "there's a giant doing cartwheels a statue wearing' high heels look at all the happy creatures dancing' on the lawn a dinosaur victrola listening' to buck owens doo doo doo lookin' out my back door ow!" "ooh!" "ooh!" "tambourines and elephants are playing in the band" "wondrous apparition provided by magician doo doo doo lookin' out my back door" "tambourines and elephants are playing in the band won't you take a ride on the flying' spoon?" "doo doo doo bother me tomorrow today i'll buy no sorrows doo doo doo lookin' out my back door" "he lives in north hollywood, on radford, near the in-n-out burger." "the in-n-out burger's on camrose." "near the in-n-out burger." "those are good burgers, walter." "shut the fuck up, donny." "the kid is in ninth grade, dude, and his father is..." "are you ready for this?" "his father is arthur digby sellers." "who the fuckis that?" "huh?" "who the fuck is arthur digby sellers?" "ever heard of a little show calledbranded, dude?" "yes, i know... all but one man died there at bitter creek?" "i know the fucking show, walter. so what?" "fucking arthur digby sellers wrote 156 episodes, dude." "huh." "the bulk of the series." "oh." "not exactly a lightweight." "no." "and yet his son is a fucking dunce." "heh." "anyway, we'll go there after the what-have-you, we'll brace the kid, should be a pushover." "we'll be near the in-n-out burger." "shut the fuck up, donny!" "we'll go out there, we'll brace the kid, he should be a pushover." "we'll get that fucking $1 million back... if he hasn't spent it already." "a million fucking clams." "and yes, we'll be near the, uh... in-n-out." "hey, shh!" "shh!" "some burgers, some beers, a few laughs." "our fucking troubles are over, dude." "oh, fuck me, man!" "that kid's already spent all the money, man!" "new 'vette?" "hardly, dude." "i'd say he still has 960, $970,000 left, depending on the options." "wait in the car, donny." "yes?" "pilar?" "my name is walter sobchak." "this is my associate jeffrey lebowski." "um, we came to talk about little larry." "may we come in?" "yes, yes." "thank you." "that's him, dude." "and a good day to you, sir!" "uh, sit down, please." "larry, sweetie, that man is here!" "is he... does he still write?" "oh, no, no." "he has health problems." "uh-huh." "uh, sir, i just want to say, uh... that we're both, on a personal level... really enormous fans." "branded, especially the early episodes, was truly a source of inspiration... sweetie, sit down!" "uh, this man is the police." "oh, no, ma'am, we didn't want to give the impression that we were police exactly." "we're hoping it won't be necessary to call the police." "but that's up to little larry here." "isn't it, larry?" "is this your homework, larry?" "is this your homework, larry?" "look, man... dude, please." "is this your homework, larry?" "just ask him about the car, man." "is this yours, larry?" "is this your homework, larry?" "is that your car out front?" "is this your homework, larry?" "we know it's his fucking homework!" "where's the fucking money, you little brat?" "look, larry... have you ever heard of vietnam?" "you're entering a world of pain, son." "we know that this is your homework." "we know that you stole the car." "and the fucking money!" "and the fucking money." "and we know that this is your homework." "we're gonna cut your dick off, larry." "you're killing your father, larry." "all right." "this is pointless." "ok?" "it's time for plan "b"." "you might want to watch out that front window, larry." "son, this is what happens when you fuck a stranger in the ass!" "little language problem here." "the little prick's stonewalling me." "walter!" "what...what are you doing, man?" "what are you doing?" "here you go, larry." "you see what happens?" "you see what happens, larry?" "you see what happens?" "this is what happens when you fuck a stranger in the ass, larry!" "this is what happens, larry!" "you see what happens, larry?" "you see what happens when you fuck a stranger in the ass?" "this is what happens." "you see what happens, larry?" "you see what happens, larry?" "do you see what happens, larry, when you fuck a stranger in the ass?" "this is what happens, larry!" "this is what happens, larry!" "no!" "this is what happens, larry!" "this is what happens when you fuck a stranger... what the fuck are you doing, man?" "!" "stop it!" "i just bought that fucking car last week!" "whoa, whoa, whoa... i'm gonna fuckin' kill you!" "i just bought the fucking car last week!" "i'll kill your fucking car, man!" "no!" "no!" "hey!" "hey!" "that's not his...hey!" "god damn it!" "no!" "oh, no!" "fuck you!" "you like that?" "fuck you!" "i kill your fucking car!" "i kill your fucking car!" "i accept your apology." "no. i just...i just want to handle it by myself from now on." "no, no, no." "that has nothing to do with it." "yes, the car made it home." "you're calling me at home." "no, walter, it did not look like... larry was about to crack." "well, that's your perception." "you know, walter, you're right." "there is an unspoken message here." "it's fuck you!" "leave me the fuck alone!" "yeah, i'll be at practice." "pin your diapers on, lebowski." "jackie treehorn wants to see you." "jackie treehorn knows which lebowski you are." "jackie treehorn wants to see the deadbeat lebowski." "you're not dealing with morons here." "hello, dude." "thanks for coming." "i'm jackie treehorn." "this is quite a pad you got here, man." "completely unspoiled." "what's your drink, dude?" "white russian." "thanks." "white russian." "how's the smut business, jackie?" "i wouldn't know, dude." "i deal in publishing, entertainment, political advocacy." "oh. which one's logjamming?" "yes, regrettably, it's true." "standards have fallen in adult entertainment." "it's video, dude." "now that we're competing with those amateurs, we can't afford to invest in little extras, like story, production value, feelings." "you know, people forget that the brain is the biggest erogenous zone." "on you maybe." "of course, you have to take the good with the bad." "new technology permits us to do very exciting things in interactive erotic software." "wave of the future, dude." "100% electronic." "hmm. well... i still jerk off manually." "of course you do." "i can see you're anxious for me to get to the point." "well, here it is, dude." "where's bunny?" "well, i thought you might know that, man." "why would i?" "she only ran off to get away from that rather sizable debt to me." "no. she didn't run off." "she's been, um... i've heard that kidnapping story, so save it." "i know you're mixed up in all this, dude, and i don't care what you're trying to get from the husband." "that's your business." "all i'm saying is... i want mine." "yeah, right, man." "i mean, there are a lot of, um, facets to this, a lot of interested parties." "excuse me." "yeah?" "oh, yeah." "where's that?" "all right." "excuse me." "oh." "forgive me." "no problemo, man." "so, uh... if i, uh, can find your money... uh, what's in it for the dude?" "well, of course, there's that to discuss." "uh, refill?" "yeah. the pope shit in the woods?" "10% finder's fee." "that all right?" "mmm. ok." "done, jackie." "yeah. i dig the way you do business, man." "your money is being held by a kid named larry sellers." "he lives in north hollywood, on radford, uh... by the in-n-out burger." "a fuckin' brat, but i'm sure your goons can get it off him." "i mean, he's 15." "flunking social studies." "so, if you could just, uh... write me a check for my 10% of half a million... 5 grand... i'll go out and mingle... you mix a hell of a caucasian, jackie." "a 15-year-old kid." "is this some sort of a joke?" "no, no joke." "no funny stuff, jackie." "the kid's got it." "hi, fellas." "the kid just wanted a car." "all the dude ever wanted was his rug back." "i'm not greedy." "it would really... tie the room together." "darkness washed over the dude." "darker than a black steer's tookus on a moonless prairie night." "there was no bottom." "yeah, yeah oh, yeah what condition my condition was in" "i woke up this morning with the sun down shining' in him" "i found my mind in a brown paper bag but then" "i tripped on a cloud and fell 8 miles high i tore my mind on a jagged sky i just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in yeah, yeah, oh, yeah what condition my condition was in" "i pushed my soul in a deep dark hole and then i followed it in" "i watched myself crawling' out as i was crawlin' in i got up so tight i couldn't unwind i saw so much i broke my mind i just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in" "yeah, yeah, oh, yeah what condition my condition was in" "someone painted echoes on in big black letters on the dead inside" "i kept my foot on the gas as i left the road blew out my mind" "8 miles out of memphis, and i got no spare 8 miles straightened up downtown somewhere i just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in" "i said, i just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in yeah yeah oh, yeah" "ah... ah... ah... ah... but the charge was true and they say he ran away branded!" "is this your only i.d.?" "i know my rights, man." "you don't know shit, lebowski." "i want a fucking lawyer, man." "i want... bill kunstler, man." "or ron coobie." "mr. treehorn tells us that he had to eject you from his garden party, that you were drunk and abusive." "mr. treehorn treats objects like women, man." "mr. treehorn draws a lot of water in this town." "you don't draw shit, lebowski." "now we got a nice quiet little beach community here, and i aim to keep it nice and quiet." "so let me make something plain." "i don't like you sucking around, bothering our citizens, lebowski." "i don't like your jerk-off name, i don't like your jerk-off face, i don't like your jerk-off behavior, and i don't like you... jerk-off." "do i make myself clear?" "i'm sorry." "i wasn't listening." "ow!" "fucking fascist!" "aah!" "stay out of malibu, lebowski!" "ow!" "stay out of malibu, deadbeat!" "keep your ugly fucking gold-bricking ass out of my beach community." "i want to sleep with you in the desert tonight with a billion stars all around jesus... man, could you change the channel?" "fuck you, man!" "if you don't like my music, get your own fucking cab!" "i had a really rough... i'll pull over and kiss your ass out." "man, come on, i had a rough night, and i hate the fucking eagles, man." "out of my fucking cab!" "out!" "get... hey... man!" "man, hey!" "devil-may-care and i'm the devil with love to spare so viva, las vegas viva, las vegas" "oh... jesus." "jeffrey." "maude?" "love me." "uh, that's my robe." "tell me about yourself, jeffrey." "well, not much to tell." "i, um, i was one of the authors of the port huron statement." "the original port huron statement." "uh-huh." "not the compromised second draft." "uh, and then i, uh, you ever hear of the seattle 7?" "mmm." "that was me." "and, um, the 6 other guys." "um, and then a music business briefly." "oh?" "yeah, a roadie for metallica." "oh." "speed of sound tour." "mm-hmm." "bunch of assholes." "uh, and then, you know, a little of this, a little of that." "my career's slowed down a little lately." "what do you do for recreation?" "oh, the usual." "bowl, drive around." "the occasional acid flashback." "what happened to your house?" "oh, jackie treehorn trashed the place." "he thought i had your father's money." "he got me out of the way while he looked for it." "cocktail?" "no, thanks." "it's not my father's money." "it's the foundation's." "why did he think you have it?" "and who does?" "oh, larry sellers, this high school kid." "real fucking brat." "you know, this is a very complicated case, maude." "lotta ins, lotta outs." "you know, fortunately, i'm adhering to a pretty strict, uh, drug regiment to keep my mind, you know, uh, limber, you know." "very fucking close to your father's money." "i keep telling you it's the foundation's money." "father doesn't have any." "what are you talking about?" "he's fucking loaded." "no, no, the wealth was all mother's." "no, he runs stuff, uh... we did let him run one of the companies briefly, but he didn't do very well at it." "no, he's, you know." "no, he helps administer the charities now, and i give him a reasonable allowance." "he has no money of his own." "i know how he likes to present himself." "father's weakness is vanity." "hence, the slut." "uh, do you think he, uh... what is that, yoga?" "it increases the chances of conception." "increases?" "well, yes." "what did you think this was all about?" "fun and games?" "i want a child." "ok, yeah, ok, but let me... ahem, let me explain something about the dude." "uh, look, jeffrey, i don't want a partner." "in fact, i don't want the father to be someone i have to see socially or who'll have any interest in raising the child himself." "oh, so that doctor... exactly. now, what happened to your face?" "did jackie treehorn do that as well?" "no, uh, it was the chief of police of malibu." "a real reactionary." "so, your father... oh, yeah, i get it." "yeah, yeah." "what?" "oh, man, my thinking about this case had become very uptight." "yeah, your father." "jeffrey, what are you talking about?" "jeffrey!" "walter, if you're there, pick up the fucking phone, man, come on, walter." "pick it up, man, this is an emergency." "come on, enough...dude?" "yeah, listen, walter, i'm at my place." "i need you to come pick me up." "i can't drive, dude, it'serev shabbos." "what?" "erev shabbos." "what?" "erev shabbos." "i can't drive." "man!" "i'm not even supposed to pick up the phone unless it's an emergency." "this is a fucking emergency." "i understand. that's why i picked up the phone." "walter, you fuck, we gotta go to pasadena, man." "come pick me up or i'm off the fucking bowling team." "get out of that fucking car, man." "get out of that fucking car!" "get the fuck out of the car, man." "get out of the fucking... who the fuck are you, man?" "easy, man." "relax, man." "no physical harm intended." "who the fuck are you?" "why are you following me around?" "come on, fuckhead." "relax, man." "i'm a brother seamus." "brother seamus?" "like an irish monk?" "what the fuck are you talking about?" "my name is da fino." "i'm a private snoop, like you, man." "what?" "a dick, man." "and let me tell you something. i dig your work." "playing one side against the other." "in bed with everybody." "fabulous stuff, man." "i'm not...fuck it, man." "just stay away from my fucking lady friend." "hey, hey, i'm not messing with your special lady." "she's not my special lady." "she's my fucking lady friend." "i'm just helping her conceive, man." "hey, man, i'm not... who are you working for?" "lebowski?" "jackie treehorn?" "the knutsens." "the...who the fuck are the knutsens?" "the knutsen's. it's a wandering daughter job." "bunny lebowski, man." "her real name is fawn knutsen." "her parents want her back." "jesus fucking christ." "crazy, huh?" "ran away about a year ago." "the knutsens told me i should show her this when i found her." "it's the family farm." "it's outside of moorhead, minnesota." "they think it'll make her homesick." "oh, boy." "how are you gonna keep 'em down on the farm once they've seen karl hungus?" "she's been kidnapped, da fino." "oh, man." "oh, i don't know." "maybe not, but she's definitely not around." "hey, maybe you and me could pool our resources." "trade information." "professional courtesy." "compeers, you know what i mean?" "yeah, yeah, i get it." "fuck off, da fino." "and stay away from my special... from my fucking lady friend, man." "ze lingonberry pancakes." "lingonberry pancakes." "sree pigs in blanket." "huh?" "she has lingonberry pancakes." "i mean we totally fucked it up, man." "we fucked up his payoff, we got the kidnappers all pissed off, and lebowski, you know, he yelled at me a lot, but he didn't do anything, huh?" "well, sometimes it's a cathartic... no, no, i'm saying if he knows i'm a fuck-up, why does he leave me in charge of getting his wife back?" "because he doesn't fucking want her back, man." "he's had enough." "he no longer digs her." "it's all a show." "ok, but then, why doesn't he give a shit about his million bucks?" "i mean, he knows we never handed off his briefcase, but he never asked for it back." "the million bucks was never in the briefcase." "the briefcase was fucking empty, man." "the asshole was hoping that they would kill her." "you threw out a ringer for a ringer." "ok, but how does this all add up to an emergency?" "huh?" "i'm saying i see what you're getting at, dude, he kept the money." "my point is, ahem, here we are, it'sshabbos, the sabbath, which i'm allowed to break only if it's a matter of life or death." "will you come off it, walter?" "you're not even fucking jewish, man." "what the fuck are you talking about?" "you're fucking polish-catholic." "what the fuck are you talking about?" "i converted when i married cynthia." "come on, dude." "yeah, yeah." "you know this." "and 5 fucking years ago, you were divorced." "so what are saying?" "when you get divorced, you turn in your library card?" "you get a new license?" "you stop being jewish?" "this is the driveway, huh?" "i'm jewish as fucking tevye." "man, you know, it's all a part of your sick cynthia thing." "man, taking care of her fucking dog." "going to her fucking synagogue." "you're living in the fucking past." "3,000 years of beautiful tradition from moses to sandy koufax, you're goddamn right i'm living in the fucking past!" "i...jesus." "what the hell happened?" "viva las vegas viva las vegas" "ah!" "where was she, man?" "visiting friends of hers in palm springs." "she just picked up and left." "never bothered to tell us." "well, i guess the fucking nihilist knew where she was." "jesus, dude, she never even kidnapped herself." "who is this gentleman, dude?" "who am i?" "i'm a fucking veteran." "he shouldn't go in there, dude." "he's very angry." "hello, man." "so, she's back, no thanks to you." "where's the fucking money, lebowski?" "a million bucks from fucking needy little urban achievers!" "you are scum, man!" "who the hell is he?" "who am i?" "who am i?" "i'm the guy that's gonna kick your phony goldbricking ass!" "that's who i am." "man, we know the briefcase was fucking empty." "we know you kept the million bucks for yourself." "you have your story, i have mine." "i say i entrusted the money to you, and you stole it." "as if we would ever dream of taking your bullshit money!" "you thought that bunny had been kidnapped, and you were fucking glad, man." "you could use it as an excuse to make some money disappear." "all you needed was a sap to pin it on." "you just met me." "you...human paraquat!" "you figured, oh, here's a loser, you know." "a deadbeat." "somebody the square community won't give a shit about." "well, aren't you?" "well, yeah, but... get out, both of you." "look at that fucking phony, dude." "pretending to be a fucking millionaire." "out of this house now, you bums!" "let me tell you something else." "i've seen a lot of spinals, dude, and this guy's a fake." "a fucking goldbricker." "stay away from me, mister!" "this guy fucking walks." "i've never been more certain of anything in my life." "you stay away from me!" "walter, for christ's sake, man, he's a cripple." "come on, come on." "get away from me!" "aah!" "put him down, man!" "yeah, i'll put him down, dude!" "rauss!" "achtung, baby!" "come on, man, help me put him back in his chair." "sure, you'll see some tank battles." "but fighting in desert is very different from fighting in canopy jungle." "i mean 'nam was a foot soldier's war." "whereas, this thing should, uh, you know, should be a piece of cake." "i mean, i had an m16, jacko." "not an abrams fucking tank." "me and charlie, eyeball to eyeball." "yeah." "that's fuckin' combat." "the man in the black pajamas, dude." "worthy fuckin' adversary." "who's in pajamas, walter?" "shut the fuck up, donny." "whereas, what we have here... lots of fig-eaters wearing towels on their heads, trying to find reverse on a soviet tank." "this...this is not a worthy... hey!" "what's this day of rest shit?" "what's this bullshit!" "i don't fuckin' care!" "it don't matter to jesus." "but you not fooling me, man." "you might fool the fucks in the league office, but you don't fool jesus." "it's bush league psyche-out stuff." "laughable, man. ha ha!" "i would have fucked you in the ass saturday." "i'll fuck you in the ass next wednesday instead." "whoo!" "you got a date wednesday, baby." "he's cracking." "the whole concept of asia." "i mean, many learned men have disputed this, but in the 14th century." "the rabahm, he... well, they finally did it." "they killed my fucking car." "we want some money, lebowski." "ja, otherwise, we kill the girl." "ja, it seems you have forgotten our little deal, lebowski." "you don't have the fucking girl, dipshit." "we know you never did." "are these the nazis, walter?" "no, donny, these men are nihilists." "there's nothing to be afraid of." "vee don't care. vee still want the money, lebowski, or we'll fuck you up." "fuck you." "fuck the 3 of yous." "no, without a hostage, there is no ransom." "that's what ransom is." "those are the fucking rules." "his girlfriend gave up her toe." "she zought we'd be getting $1 million." "it's not fair." "fair?" "who's the fucking nihilist around here?" "you bunch of fucking crybabies." "cool it, walter." "hey, look, pal, there never was any money." "the big lebowski gave me an empty briefcase, so take it up with him, man." "yeah, and i would like my undies back." "are these guys gonna hurt us, walter?" "no, donny, these men are cowards." "ok, so we take ze money you haf on you and we calls it even." "fuck you." "hey, no, come on, walter, come on." "we're ending this thing cheap, man." "no, what's mine is mine." "oh, come on, walter." "no funny stuff." "all right, all right, i got, uh, 4 bucks, almost 5." "i got $18." "what's mine is mine." "we fuck you up, man." "we takes the money." "come and get it." "we fuck you up." "show me what you got, nihilist." "i fuck you." "walter, come on, he's got a sword." "fucking dipshit with a 9-toed woman." "fuck you!" "fuck you!" "i fuck you up!" "take it easy, man." "here's the $4.00." "i got a fucking ball, man." "aah!" "anti-semite!" "i fuck youin ze ass." "i fuck you in ze ass." "i fuck you!" "i fuck you!" "i fuck you!" "i fuck you!" "we got a man down, dude." "god, they shot him, man." "no, dude." "they shot donny?" "there weren't any shots fired." "huh?" "it's a heart attack." "call the medics, dude." "i'd go myself, but i'm pumping blood. might pass out." "rest easy, good buddy, you're doing fine." "we got help choppering in." "hello, gentlemen." "you are the bereaved?" "yeah, man." "francis donnelly." "pleased to meet you." "jeff lebowski." "walter sobchak." "the dude, actually, is, uh... excuse me?" "oh, nothing." "yes, i understand you're taking away the remains." "yeah." "we have the urn." "i assume this is credit card." "yeah." "ahem." "what's this?" "that's for the urn." "don't need it. we're scattering the ashes." "yes, so we were informed." "however, we must, of course, transmit the remains to you in a receptacle." "this is $180." "it is our most modestly priced receptacle." "can we just, uh...$180?" "they range up to 3,000." "uh, we're, uh, ahem!" "can't we just rent it from you?" "sir, this is a mortuary, not a rental house." "we're scattering the fucking ashes!" "look, just because we're bereaved, doesn't make us saps!" "sir, please, lower your voices." "man, don't you have, you know, something else we could put him in, you know?" "that is our most modestly priced receptacle." "god damn it!" "is there a ralphs around here?" "donny was a good bowler and a good man." "he was one of us." "he was a man who loved the outdoors and bowling." "and as a surfer, he explored the beaches of southern california, from la jolla to leo carrillo and up to pismo." "he died...he died as so many men of his generation, before his time." "in your wisdom, lord, you took him." "as you took so many bright, flowering young men at khe sanh, at lan doc, and hill 364." "these young men gave their lives." "so did donny." "donny who loved bowling." "and so, theodore donald karabotsos, in accordance with what we think your dying wishes might well have been, we commit your final mortal remains to the bosom of the pacific ocean, which you loved so well." "good night, sweet prince." "shit." "oh, shit, dude, i'm sorry." "god damn wind." "god damn it, walter." "you fucking asshole!" "dude, i'm sorry." "everything's a fucking travesty with you, man." "i'm sorry." "it was an accident." "what was that shit about vietnam?" "what the fuck does anything have to do with vietnam?" "what the fuck are you talking about?" "dude, i'm sorry." "fuckin'... fuck, walter." "come on, dude." "hey, fuck it, man." "let's go bowling." "and when you're sitting there in your silk upholstered chair talkin' to some rich folks that you know" "well, i hope you don't see me in my ragged company aw, that you know i could never be alone" "2 oat sodas, gary." "good luck tomorrow." "yeah, thanks, man." "i'm sorry to hear about donny." "oh, well, yeah, you know, sometimes you eat the bar, and sometimes, you know... hey, man!" "howdy doo, dude." "i wondered if i'd see you again." "i wouldn't miss the semis?" "how have things been going?" "oh, you know, strikes and gutters, ups and downs." "sure. i gotcha." "yeah. thanks, gary." "well, take care, man." "gotta get back." "sure. take it easy, dude." "oh, yeah." "i know that you will." "yeah, well, the dude abides." "the dude abides." "i don't know about you, but i take comfort in that." "it's good knowing he's out there, the dude." "taking' her easy for all us sinners." "shoosh. i sure hope he makes the finals." "well, that about does her." "wraps her all up." "things seemed to have worked out pretty good for the dude and walter." "and it was a pretty good story, don't you think?" "made me laugh to beat the band." "parts, anyway." "i didn't like seeing donny go." "but then i happen to know that there's a little lebowski on the way." "i guess that's how the whole darn human comedy keeps perpetuating itself down through the generations." "westward in the wagons, and across the sands of time until we... oh, look at me." "i'm ramblin' again." "well, i hope you folks enjoyed yourselves." "catch ya later on down the trail." "say, friend, you got any more of that good sarsaparilla?" "captioning made possible by polygram video captioning performed by the national captioning institute, inc." "public performance of captions prohibited without permission of national captioning institute take me down, little susie, take me down" "i know you think you're the queen of the underground send me dead flowers every morning" "send me dead flowers by the mail send me dead flowers to my wedding" "and i won't forget to put roses on your grave no, i won't forget to put roses on your grave" "bright light city gonna set my soul gonna set my soul on fire got a whole lotta money that's ready to burn so get those stakes up higher there's a thousand pretty women waitin' out there they're all livin' devil may care" "and i'm just the devil with love to spare so viva las vegas viva las vegas" "viva las vegas with the neon flashin' and your one-armed bandits crashin' all those hopes down the drain viva las vegas turnin' day into nighttime night into daytime if see it once you'll never be the same again" "i'm gonna keep on keep on the run if it costs me my very last dime if i wind up broke well, i'll always remember that that i had a swinging time i'm gonna give it everything i've got" "lady luck please let the dice stay hot let me shoot a 7 with every shot viva las vegas viva las vegas viva las vegas viva viva viva viva"