‐ I am karma...
and I'm a bitch.
[tense music]
♪ ♪
Can you play Hi‐8?
WOMAN: [moaning]
MILTIE: [gasps] I want in.
I can really help you go big with this thing.
You do wanna go big with this thing, right?
‐ Yes, I do.
MILTIE: You just worry about getting the tapes out.
All right? Leave the rest up to me.
‐ My monologue‐‐it's cut?
‐ We just thought it was stronger wordless.
‐ A drop more wedgie, please, Katie.
That's great.
‐ Bless us with the body and soul of a child.
Ahh, honey!
DISTRIBUTOR: I don't care how big his dick is.
I can't show it to everybody without releases, so fuck off.
‐ Nobody is ever getting rich
off a celebrity sex tape, okay?
‐ What if we sold it somewhere that nobody could ever find us?
‐ A what site?
‐ Website.
This thing on the computer
people will go to, and they will order the tape
directly from us.
[machine whirring]
[keys clacking]
[indistinct chatter]
[Chicago's 24 or 6 to 4]
♪ ♪
[indistinct greetings]
♪ ♪
SINGER: ♪ Waiting for the break of day ♪
♪ ♪
♪ Searching for something to say ♪
‐ [chuckles]
SINGER: ♪ Dancing lights against the sky ♪
♪ ♪
♪ Giving up I close my eyes ♪
♪ ♪
♪ Sitting cross‐legged on the floor ♪
♪ 25 or 6 to 4 ♪
♪ ♪
TOMMY (via TV): Oh, my God.
PAM (via TV): Oh, oh, fuck me, baby.
[giggles and screams]
DR. KLOKE: That's a gestational sac.
That's the yolk sac.
PAM: Oh, my God. What is that?
‐ That? That's the embryo.
That's your baby.
‐ Dude.
Uh...oh, my God.
‐ Oh, hey, little peanut.
Oh, it's me, Mommy.
‐ Oh, my God. That's in‐‐that is in here!
‐ Nice to meet you. ‐ This is...
DR. KLOKE: See that flicker?
‐ No way.
‐ Is that...
DR. KLOKE: The heartbeat.
‐ It's a nice steady beat.
‐ Is it healthy? It sounds‐‐it sounds healthy.
DR. KLOKE: It's perfect.
‐ It's like a little 4/4, you know,
like "Kickstart My Heart." Whoo!
SINGER: ♪ One, two...♪ ‐ Oh, he's perfect.
SINGER: ♪ One, two, three ♪
‐ Guess what, fuckers?
I'm gonna be a dad... on purpose!
‐ Anybody thirsty? [all cheering]
‐ Aah!
SINGER: ♪ Wake up, kids ♪
♪ We got the dreamer's disease ♪
♪ Age 14, they got you down on your knees ♪
♪ So polite, we're busy still saying please ♪
♪ ♪
♪ Frenemies, who when you're down ain't your friend ♪
♪ Every night we smash a Mercedes‐Benz ♪
RAND: Excuse me. Is Erica around?
‐ Oh, I don't know. Kitchen maybe.
‐ [moaning]
♪ ♪
SINGER: ♪ But when the night is falling ♪
♪ You cannot find the light ♪
♪ Light ♪
RAND: Erica around here? STAFF: Yeah, she's out there.
‐She's out the back. RAND: Thank you.
SINGER: ♪ Hold tight ♪
♪ You got the music in you ♪
♪ Don't let go ♪
♪ You got the music in you ♪
♪ One dance left ♪
♪ This world is gonna pull through ♪
♪ Don't give up... ♪
‐ That the new one?
‐ Ohh. What are you doing here?
RAND: I actually came here lookin' for you.
‐ What is that?
‐ It's the 400 bucks I owe you.
‐ For what?
‐ For Thanksgiving, '91.
The carving knife, remember? The urgent care visit?
‐ Oh, shit. Yes, wow.
Right. Oh, you don't have to do that.
‐ I know, but I can, so I did.
‐ You can? You can?
RAND: Yeah. Do you remember the thing
I was alluding to at dinner the other night?
‐ I do.
RAND: It's going well.
‐ That's great, Rand.
‐ Like, very well.
‐ Oh, that's great.
So does that mean that we can finally get divorced?
‐ No.
I‐‐I don't have enough for that yet.
I have $400, not 8,000.
You enjoying it so far?
‐ Hmm?
‐ The book. ‐ Oh, oh, oh, oh.
I'm only, like, 30 pages in.
‐ Second favorite after Lestat.
‐ Body Thief. ‐ Oh, no.
‐ Body Thief, Queen of the Damned
close second. ‐ Damned I will give you.
Damned is up there. ‐ You know,
I have you to blame for this obsession.
Do you remember that day
you showed up with that huge stack?
‐ Yeah. ‐ All of them.
‐ How could I forget?
‐ Well, I should go.
‐ Yeah. ERICA: Thank you for this.
‐ No problem.
SETH: I'm down here in the Valley
for a few days on a little scouting trip.
Krystal, l‐let me ask you something.
How would you like to do porn
and not have to fuck disgusting, sweaty men?
H‐how would you like to do porn
and not have to fuck anyone at all?
KRYSTAL: [chuckles]
SETH: There's my card.
KRYSTAL: Internet Entertainment Group?
SETH: We're a technology slash entertainment company.
‐ Excuse me.
Did I hear you just mention the internet?
‐ I did.
‐ Rand Gauthier.
SETH: Ah, Seth Warshavsky.
‐ Seattle. Let me guess‐‐Webcams.
‐ Uh, very good, yeah.
RAND: They say it's the future of porn.
‐ And I would agree with them.
RAND: Yeah, personally I'm not a believer.
‐ No?
RAND: No, the image quality is awful.
They take forever to load.
‐ Mm, well, I see.
‐ Yeah, you know,
If I'm a guy looking to rub one out
am I gonna wait a half an hour
for some choppy, grainy video to load
when I can just pop "Backseat Bangers 5"‐‐
which is a classic‐‐ in the VCR?
I'm going to jack off in seconds.
Also, if they ever actually invent
these 56K modems they keep talking about,
the image quality, it's not going to be nearly as good
as a good old‐fashioned VHS.
‐ Well, you clearly know a lot about this stuff, so...
‐ Yeah, you know,
as a technophile and former porn star,
I am uniquely positioned to talk about this.
‐ Well, I'm sorry to hear
you think cyberporn's bullshit.
‐ No, see, I don't.
I actually think technology has the power
to revolutionize porn,
but I think you have to be smart about it.
Look, I can't get into specifics,
but I am currently harnessing the power of the web
in a way that has never been done before.
‐ Wow. Good for you, Dan.
‐ Rand.
‐ Good luck with your brilliant,
world‐changing idea.
[laughs]
PERFORMER: Yeah. ‐ Dick.
PERFORMER: Ahh! Harder!
TOMMY: Breakfast time.
PAM: Mmm, baby, it smells amazing.
I like that. TOMMY: Follow the smell.
‐ Ooh! PAM: [laughs]
TOMMY: You ready?
PAM: Ahh.
‐ Can you tell what that is?
Fucking Mickey Mouse.
[laughter]
Pop a squat.
All right, I used the special whole‐grain batter,
a little extra nutrish for the peanut.
‐ Baby. ‐ Let me get you some OJ.
PAM: Mmm, it's delicious. ‐ Pure Premium, baby.
Only the finest.
Ahh!
Shit.
Mm.
‐ Ohh. TOMMY: You know what?
This is way too precious to leave out.
I'll be back. ‐ What? Where are you going?
[tense music]
♪ ♪
‐ What the fuck?
[morose music]
♪ ♪
TOMMY: Uh, an AK‐47, FNC assault rifle,
nickel‐plated Colt Commander .45, mother of pearl grips,
a Rolex, a, uh, uh, Cartier watch,
pair of gold cufflinks
and this, like, big‐ass ruby and diamond cross.
Um, what else? Um...a wedding bikini.
Yeah, white.
God damn it.
‐ A wedding bikini?
OFFICER BARNES: White.
OFFICER JARVIS: Anything else?
TOMMY: Um... ‐ Oh...Tommy.
[uneasy music]
‐ Hold on a second.
‐ We'll be right outside.
‐ What's up?
‐ The tape.
‐ What tape?
‐ You know...the tape.
‐ Oh.
‐ Wait, wasn't it in there?
Yes. Yes, I‐I, um,
I‐I told you I was nervous,
and then you said‐‐you said you put it in the safe.
‐ Shit.
Think it was.
‐ [exhales] Ohh...
‐ It was.
‐ Oh, God. ‐ You know what?
Don't worry about it, baby.
They're gonna get it all back.
‐ Yeah.
‐ They're gonna get it all back.
Guys!
Um...
Actually, there was this one other thing.
‐ Yeah.
‐ Like a tape.
‐ A tape?
‐ Like a videotape.
‐ Like a movie?
‐ Kinda...home movies.
‐ Okay. TOMMY: Yeah.
I, um‐‐[ahem]‐‐
I trust that this is gonna be
a top‐priority case for, uh, for you guys.
‐ Uh, we'll keep our ears open if anything pops up,
but burglaries don't get solved that often.
‐ Hmm. Wait. So‐so what‐‐ so what you're saying is
you're not even gonna try to get our stuff back?
OFFICER BARNES: Sir, we're just trying to manage
your expectations.
‐ Well, somebody broke into our home
and took our shit, our own personal, private shit.
OFFICER JARVIS: Yeah, look, the number of burglaries
per day, it's up there. ‐ Yeah.
I don't care about other robberies.
OFFICER BARNES: Mr. Lee. ‐ I care about mine.
I pay more fucking taxes
that I could own your fucking precinct.
‐ Mr. Lee, we're done here.
‐ We'll let you know if we find anything.
‐ Really, dude? ‐ [police radio chatter]
[scoffs] Whatever.
Babe, there's fucking guns in there, jewelry.
I mean, who's gonna bother with some stupid unmarked tape?
‐ I know, but if somebody plays that thing, Tommy...
‐ Nobody's gonna play it.
And‐‐and they couldn't, even if they wanted.
It's Hi‐8. Who the fuck has Hi‐8?
PAM: Yeah.
God, but I feel... fuckin' violated.
Uggghhh.
Don't you?
‐ Violated?
‐ Yeah. You don't?
‐ I mean, I feel more... pissed.
We'll get it back.
Hey. ‐ Yeah.
‐ I promise.
We're gonna get it. ‐ Mm‐hmm.
‐ All right? ‐ Mm‐hmm.
‐ Fuck the police.
Fuck the po‐lice.
Fuck the police!
We'll get our own guy.
‐ Wait. What do you mean?
What, like, um...
we get like a private‐‐ private investigator?
‐ A PI. Exactly.
PAM: Yes, that's great. Who?
ANTHONY: There's only two reasons to steal a safe...
Money and revenge.
Money, that's tough.
That could be anybody, so let's start with revenge.
Is there anybody you had beef with lately?
PAM: [exhales] Beef? ANTHONY: Anybody who hates you?
Maybe had a reason to get back at you?
‐ Um...no. No, I don't think so.
‐ What about you, Tommy?
‐ Who's got beef with me?
Uh...
Bret Michaels... [laughs]
Axl Rose,
um, Blackie Lawless, Lou Adler,
Gene Simmons, fucking David Geffen.
‐ Okay.
‐ Mickey Rourke. Yeah.
Richie Sambora, Jan Wenner, Bob Rock.
‐ Got it. ‐ C.C. DeVille, John Stamos.
‐ John Stamos?
‐ Fuckin' asshole.
‐ Wow.
The police report says the surveillance footage
was destroyed.
Is there anybody who had access to your security system,
where it is?
PAM: Well, just us.
TOMMY: Just me and Pamela.
PAM: Right.
‐ Who installed it?
‐ Some dude, this fuckin' dipshit carpenter.
‐ Dipshit carpenter?
‐ Oh, yes, he was working on our house.
‐ Yeah, I canned his ass.
‐ For what reason?
‐ For the reason he was doing a shitty‐ass job,
so shitty I didn't even pay him.
‐ What? You never paid him?
‐ No.
‐ When was the last time you saw this guy?
‐ A couple of days after I fired him.
‐ And what were the circumstances?
‐ He showed up trying to get his tools back.
‐ [laughs] Did you give them back?
‐ Of course.
‐ After coming to my house without permission?
Fuck no. I almost smoked his ass.
‐ What? ANTHONY: Smoked his ass?
TOMMY: Yeah, I put a shottie in his face and said,
"Get the fuck off my property."
ANTHONY: Okay.
Let me do some digging here.
‐ ♪ Rusted chains of prison moons ♪
♪ Are shattered by the sun ♪
SINGER: ♪ I walk a road ♪
RAND AND SINGER: ♪ Horizons change the tournament's ♪
[knock at door]
SINGER: ♪ Begun ♪
♪ The purple piper plays his tune ♪
♪ The choir ♪
RAND AND SINGER: ♪ Softly sings ♪
SINGER: ♪ For the court of the crimson king ♪
RAND: Hello? ANTHONY: Hi.
Ow! Fuck me!
‐ Where's the tape? RAND: [groaning] What?
‐ Where the fuck is the tape?
RAND: What tape?
Oh, fuck.
Augh! Ahh!
‐ You know what fucking tape.
RAND: What are you talking about, man?
‐ Just tell me where it is. It'll make this a lot easier.
Am I getting warm? Am I warm? Am I warm? Am I warm?
RAND: I don't know, man!
‐ Is it over here? [music continues playing]
[sighs] Fuck is this shit?
RAND: It's King Crimson, man.
[record shattering] Oh, that's a first pressing.
[panting, groaning] Ohh... ‐ What I did to that record
I will do to your fat, stupid face.
‐ Oh, God, no. Dude, dude, please, please.
‐ [pounding, shouting] ‐ I'm going to ask you again.
NEIGHBOR: Knock it off or I'm calling the cops.
I'll do it, Rand. I'm calling the cops right now.
ANTHONY: Shh.
‐ Good, call them‐‐fuck you. ‐ Shut your fuckin'...
MAN: Okay. I'm calling the cops now.
RAND: Pfff! [coughing]
‐ I'll be back,
and you better have that fucking tape.
RAND: [gasping]
Oh, fuck.
[tense music]
[line trilling]
MILTIE: Hello. RAND: Hey, Miltie.
Thank God you picked up.
MILTIE (recording): I can't get to the phone right now.
Please leave a message, and I'll get back to you.
[beep] ‐ Um a‐are you there?
Are you there, man?
Are you there?
If you're there, please pick up, dude.
Please, I need to talk to you, man.
Fuck!
‐ Oh... [mumbling]
[tense music]
♪ ♪
[doorbell chimes]
RAND: Hey, man. CHAD: Hey.
RAND: How's it going? CHAD: Good. And you?
RAND: Good.
200 of them there?
CHAD: Yeppers.
Fuck. I got that shit.
RAND: You do?
‐ Well, mine ain't got the nice packaging.
It's just the tape.
‐ It showed up in the mail without the box?
CHAD: It didn't get mailed.
‐ How did you get it?
‐ No refunds now. No refunds.
Hey, check out the tape right here.
Everybody, Pamela Anderson right here.
Triple‐X. I got you.
The sequel next time, huh?
That's what's up.
[intense percussive music]
RAND: Hey, yo. ‐ Hey, what up, homie?
‐ How much these puppies for?
‐ Hey, for you, 1 for 30, 2 for 50.
‐ [sighs]
Mind if I check 'em out?
‐ Yeah, go ahead, bro. It's nice, huh?
Good stocking‐stuffer.
‐ What you're doing is wrong.
‐ Excuse me.
‐ These do not belong to you.
‐ All right, look, dude.
‐ No, no, no. You look, dude.
You have no right to be selling these.
You are profiting off of somebody else's
considerable risk and labor,
which is probably illegal but is definitely unethical.
So unless you want a major problem on your hands,
you're going to pack up the bootleg shit,
and you're going to get out of the Tower Records' parking lot.
‐ Ha ha, oh, shit.
You're fucking with me, right, dawg?
Oh, what are you, the porn police?
‐ Maybe I am.
‐ Mr. Ethical. Ha.
Get the fuck out of here, dawg.
‐ Enjoy it while it lasts.
This whole operation's getting shut down, man.
KENNY: Fuck your mom, sir. Have a good day.
Hey, check out the tapes right here, everybody.
‐ Fuck!
‐ It's him without a doubt.
TOMMY: Fucking knew it.
PAM: Oh, my God. Are you sure? How do you know?
‐ One can tell these things.
PAM: Oh, my God.
You're gonna get it back, right?
‐ I'll pop in tomorrow.
You'll probably have it back by the weekend.
PAM: Oh, my God. TOMMY: Yes! Yes!
PAM: Thank you so much, Mr. Pellicano.
We really fucking appreciate it.
You have no idea.
‐ It's fun.
TOMMY: Ahh, come here.
Whoo! Yeah! Yeah!
‐ Oh, what did I tell you? ‐ I know.
‐ Yes. ‐ Yes.
‐ I got to bounce.
I got a session with the boys. I'll be back home around 8:00.
PAM: Yeah, but I'm shooting late tonight.
‐ Aw, fuck, that's right. ‐ Yeah.
‐ I gonna miss you.
‐ Oh, my God. Not as much as I'll miss you.
‐ Eskimo kiss.
Mwah! ‐ Ohh.
[mystical music]
♪ ♪
Nam‐myoho‐renge‐kyo, nam‐myoho‐renge‐kyo,
nam‐myoho‐renge‐kyo...
[knock at door]
PRODUCTION ASSISTANT: They're ready for you.
‐ [sighs]
Coming.
[sighs]
Whoo! Let's do this.
Hey, Evander! BEN: Hey.
PAM: How's it going? BEN: Everything's good.
PAM: Good weekend? BEN: Yes, ma'am.
PAM: Oh, yeah? How are those kids of yours?
BEN: Putting them up for adoption.
PAM: [laughs] Oh, yeah. Well, give them to me.
Give them to me.
TOMMY (via TV): I love you, Pamela!
PAM (via TV): I love you, Tommy!
TOMMY (via TV): Wow. Fuck, you are so hot.
PAM (via TV): [giggles]
Tommy, when are you gonna get me preggo?
TOMMY (via TV): I'm trying right now.
PAM (via TV): Oh, look at my beautiful fucking husband.
You're so fucking hot.
‐ Dude. [Pamela giggles]
[tense music]
♪ ♪
Whoo!
Baby, get in.
TOMMY (via TV): Fuck! I love you so much.
PAM (via TV): I love you, lover.
TOMMY (via TV): God damn you rip...
♪ ♪
NIKKI: And then right on the drop, that's where you come in.
MICK: Oh, okay. Three, four.
[rock music plays]
[indistinct chatter continues]
‐ [whispers] Fuck! NIKKI: Yeah, up to eight.
Yeah.
That's a big‐ass guitar.
MAN: What do you think, Nik, Vince, yeah?
♪ ♪
PAM: Sorry, guys, could you just give us a second?
WOMAN: Yeah, come on.
PAM: Now, please. WOMAN: Sorry.
TOMMY: Hey, what's up?
‐ He's selling it.
‐ Huh?
‐ He's fucking selling it, Tommy.
‐ One second.
‐ It's our tape.
‐ What the fuck?
Where'd you get this?
‐ They were watching it on set.
Just a bunch of camera guys sitting around
watching us have sex.
‐ Holy shit.
‐ Jesus.
Do you have any idea how humiliating it was?
‐ Motherfucker. ‐ [sighs]
I mean, how many copies of this are out there?
I mean, there could be dozens, hundreds.
‐ What is this?
‐ What is what?
‐ This...http wha‐‐
‐ Well, that's a website.
They're making one for Barb Wire.
‐ This is how he's selling this?
‐ I don't know. I really don't get it.
‐ Do we have a computer?
‐ We have a computer. It's in the downstairs den,
but we don't have the Web.
You need this thing you plug your phone into.
‐ Okay. So who has it?
Where do we get the Web?
[tense music]
♪ ♪
TOMMY: Sex tape...
and period‐dot‐com.
O, M.
Enter.
♪ ♪
‐ [exhales]
♪ ♪
‐ What the hell is this?
‐ I have no fucking idea.
‐ Oh my God, shit. ‐ Hold on, hold on, hold on.
PAM: What are you doing?
TOMMY: I wanna see if there's a phone number.
PAM: There's not.
I don't see any. There's no way to reach them.
Wait, look. Purchase.
Should we click on it?
Enter. ‐ Wait‐‐
Oh, fuck.
PAM: [gasps]
Canada? What?
TOMMY: He's in LA.
PAM: Yeah.
Well, maybe he's running it through Canada
to avoid getting caught. ‐ [huffs]
It's like a whole operation.
‐ It really is.
‐ There's no way this guy's doing it by himself.
Dumbass couldn't mastermind ordering a pizza.
‐ So who's helping him then?
ANTHONY: Milton Ingley.
Low‐level porn producer out of Van Nuys.
Rand did some features for him back in the day.
Anal specialist.
TOMMY: Jesus.
‐ Are you fucking kidding me?
How did you find this out?
‐ I asked around.
Apparently, they pitched it to half the Valley.
‐ Oh‐‐ ‐ Hey.
PAM: Oh, my fucking God.
Jesus Christ! [crying]
[door slams]
[dramatic music]
‐ Where the fuck do I find this guy?
‐ The phone book.
[tense music]
♪ ♪
‐ Hey, Tommy.
‐ Ha ha ha.
[engine revving]
[driving rock music]
♪ ♪
RAND: Miltie.
Miltie, where the fuck are you, man? Miltie?
STEVE: Oh, he just left.
‐ Where did he go?
‐ I‐don't know, man.
[laidback music playing on radio]
♪ ♪
‐ What are you doing?
‐ Miltie asked me to help out.
‐ You fucking‐‐ you‐you‐you know?
[engine revving outside]
‐ Oh, about the tape? ‐ Yeah.
‐ Totally.
‐ I told him not to tell anybody.
‐ Oh, I don't know, man. PERSON: What's the guy's name,
Randy? TINY: No, it's Rand.
RAND: Could you please get the door for me?
Thank you. TINY: Miltie, Rand...
[knocking] [singsong] Oh, Rand!
[knocking continues]
STEVE: Whoa!
Yo, what the fuck? Yo.
‐ Let's go have a little chat.
‐ The fuck‐‐
‐ Get in here. Take a seat.
♪ ♪
‐ Tiny, this him?
TINY: Nice to meet you, Rand.
‐ Rand? No, no, that's‐‐that's not me.
Rand just ran‐‐ DIRTY DICK: Shut up.
♪ ♪
‐ [softly] Come on. Come on!
Hey, Miltie. ‐ Rand?
‐ Thank God. ‐ What the fuck are‐‐
‐ Where the fuck have you been, dude?
‐ Oh, I've been‐‐I've been working from home.
What's up? ‐ Well, there‐‐there's a lot.
Um, okay, Tommy Lee, he's onto us, man.
Some fucking goombah PI just showed up.
He showed up‐‐he showed up at my apartment.
He beat the fuck out of me.
He told me that if I didn't give him the tape,
he's gonna fucking kill me.
And then a biker gang shows up at the studio
looking for us, man.
And I get away, but‐‐well, there's a guy at the studio.
He's working on the operation.
You hired him. You didn't tell me.
You told me not to‐‐not to fucking tell anyone, man.
And there's a guy who's selling the fucking tape
in the Tower Records' parking lot, dude.
Two for 50 bucks, man. It's a good fucking deal.
That's it. [panting]
‐ Us? ‐ What?
‐ You said‐‐ you said looking for us.
‐ Yeah.
‐ Did you fucking rat me out, Rand?
‐ No. No, of course not, dude.
No, no.
‐ But they mentioned me. Did they say my name?
‐ Yes, of course.
They showed up at your studio, dude.
‐ Do you think they followed you?
‐ I don't fucking know. Can I come inside?
‐ No, no, no. It's very messy.
I'd really rather you not.
‐ My place is gross. I don't‐‐
‐ How do they know I'm involved?
‐ I have no idea. I don't know, man.
I don't know anything. I don't know.
‐ Okay, okay, let's just‐‐ why don't you chill out?
‐ Okay, okay.
‐ Take it easy. Take it easy.
I'm going to need you to go back to the studio.
‐ What?
‐ Okay.
The location is compromised.
Okay, baby?
‐ What?
‐ You're going to need to clean everything out.
Clean out every last copy of that movie tape.
[car horn honks]
‐ Why me?
‐ You're operations.
‐ Everything's operations.
[upbeat music]
♪ ♪
SINGER: ♪ Sunset's come to paint the sky ♪
♪ A new life begins with a baby's cry ♪
[engine turning over]
‐ He's gone!
Power.
Bunnies, come to the bunny patch.
♪ ♪
I'm so sorry. Where were we?
‐ I am not your bunny.
[phone ringing]
‐ What's up?
‐ He's not here. Don't worry.
He'll turn up eventually. ‐ Baby, is that him?
ANTHONY: I'm planning to stop by the studio later...
‐ It's not there. ANTHONY: To see what I find.
‐ Come on. That's not good enough.
Come on, let me talk to him. Put him on speaker.
‐ Baby, he's on it. Relax.
‐ No, I will not relax.
Mr. Pellicano, hi, this is Pamela.
ANTHONY: Hi, Pamela. PAM: Huh, yeah.
You need to stop this guy from selling the tape now.
This is urgent. ‐ Baby, you're being crazy.
PAM: [laughing] What? I'm not being crazy.
You're being chill. You're being way too chill.
Every second that passes, this tape could be spreading.
‐ Baby, we will get it back, all right?
Every last copy‐‐ it's mail order.
They know exactly who they ship to.
‐ But what about the people that they shipped it to?
What if they made copies? Come on.
‐ Just‐‐we got this, okay?
Let me handle it.
PAM: Yeah.
Okay, but you don't seem to understand
what a big deal this is to me.
‐ Like it's not a big deal to me?
I'm on that tape just the same as you.
‐ But this is worse for me.
I mean, this is way worse.
‐ How's this worse for you? Why?
'Cause of your big career? ‐ No.
TOMMY: It's so much bigger than mine?
‐ What? Tommy, it's not because of my big career.
It's because I'm a woman.
ANTHONY: Uh, I'm gonna let you guys talk this‐‐
[beep]
[dial tone]
PAM: Fuck.
[sighs] Listen to me, okay?
People are gonna think you're cool for this, all right?
They'll be high‐fiving you in the street.
Me, I'm going to get looked at like a slut by the whole world.
‐ That's ridiculous. PAM: It's not ridiculous.
It's true. You don't know.
You have no idea.
You never have to fucking deal with this stuff.
Tommy, you don't. ‐ I'm on your side, Pamela.
I want to get rid of the tapes just as much as you do,
and we will end this whole thing, all right?
I'm telling you. This'll all be fine.
Besides it's not like they're seeing anything
they haven't seen before.
‐ What did you say?
‐ I‐I just‐‐
‐ What the fuck did you just say?
‐ I'm sorry. That came out wrong.
‐ Oh, my God.
Leave. TOMMY: What?
‐ Leave this fucking room right now.
TOMMY: Pamela.
PAM: Leave this fucking room right now.
‐ Come on, Pamela. PAM: Get the fuck out.
[dramatic music]
♪ ♪
RAND: [exhaling heavily]
Oh, fuck.
♪ ♪
[muttering]
[tires squealing]
‐ [sighs]
[gasps]
[soft music]
[gasps]
Hey, Tommy.
Yeah, I feel fine now, Tommy.
‐ I wanna check it out. I want just to make sure.
‐ I'm telling you I feel good.
I feel fine.
Oh, shit.
‐ No shit. Okay?
‐ Oh, God. Yeah, I know.
‐ Fine. Everything's fucking fine.
PAMELA: [groans] Ohh... ‐ Yep, yep, yep.
[humming]
[engine turning over]
[laidback rock music playing]
♪ ♪
‐ You did the right thing by coming in.
‐ I feel‐‐I feel much better now actually.
‐ I'm sure it's nothing. ‐ Yeah.
‐ Most likely everything's fine.
SINGER: ♪ For a destination ♪
♪ ♪
♪ I realized quickly when I knew I should ♪
♪ That the world was made up of this brotherhood of man ♪
♪ For whatever that means ♪
♪ And so I cry sometimes when I'm lying in bed ♪
♪ Just to get it all out what's in my head ♪
♪ And I, I am feeling a little peculiar ♪
♪ And so I wake in the morning and I step outside ♪
♪ And I take a deep breath and I get real high ♪
‐ Should we call my mom? SINGER: ♪ "What's going on?" ♪
‐ I'm going to as soon as we get home.
PAPARAZZO: Pamela. ‐ Fuck off.
PAPARAZZO: How are you feeling?
PAPARAZZO: Are you okay?
PAPARAZZO: Is there something wrong, Pamela?
Are you okay? [indistinct chatter]
TOMMY: Get the fuck out of here.
Come on. Get the fuck out of here‐‐hey!
Fuck off! SINGER: ♪ What's going on? ♪
♪ And I say hey‐ey‐ey‐ey ♪
[phone ringing]
♪ Hey‐ey‐ey ♪
RAND (recording): Hi, this is Rand Gauthier.
Please leave your number. I'll call you back.
Thank you. [machine beeps]
MILTIE: Hi, Rand, it's me, Miltie.
Uh, listen, just wanted to let you know
I'm gonna pop on over to Amsterdam for a few days.
Nothing to worry about.
Just wanna make a few tweaks to the banking,
keep the IR you know what off the scent.
‐ Smart. [engine rumbling outside]
MILTIE: Anyway, I have no doubt
you will hold down the fort in my absence.
Great job clearing out the studio.
All right. Anyway, I will check...
SINGER: ♪ And now the purple dusk of twilight time ♪
♪ Steals across the meadows of my heart ♪
[dramatic orchestral music]
♪ High up in the sky the little stars climb ♪
♪ Always reminding me that we're apart ♪
‐ Fuck, he's not here.
SINGER: ♪ You wandered down the lane and far away ♪
‐ Would you like to see the cocktail menu?
‐ I would love to.
SINGER: ♪ Leaving me a song that will not die ♪
♪ ♪
♪ Love is now the stardust of yesterday ♪
[heavy knocking at door]
♪ The music of the years gone by ♪
RAND: Hey, uh, can I come in?
‐ Yeah. RAND: Okay, thank you.
SINGER: ♪ Refrain ♪
SINGERS: [doo‐wop vocalizing]
♪ ♪
PAPARAZZO: Pam, Tommy, give me a big smile.
‐ God fucking damn it!
You want this fucking picture?
I'll give you a fucking picture.
[both screaming indistinctly]
‐ Fucking‐‐ [camera shutter snapping]
[screaming]
SINGER: ♪ The lonely night ♪ ‐ Die!
You fuck!
♪ ♪
SINGER: ♪ The melody ♪
♪ Haunts my reverie ♪
♪ And I am once again ♪
PAM: [sobbing]
SINGER: ♪ When our love was new ♪
♪ And each kiss an inspiration ♪
PAM: [sobs]
♪ ♪
SINGER: ♪ But that was long ago ♪
♪ And now my consolation ♪
♪ Is in the stardust of a song ♪
♪ Beside the garden wall ♪
♪ When stars are bright ♪
♪ You are in my arms ♪
♪ The nightingale tells his fairytale ♪
♪ Of paradise where roses grew ♪
♪ Though I dream in vain ♪
♪ In my heart it will remain ♪
♪ My stardust melody ♪
♪ The memory of love's ♪
♪ Refrain ♪
♪ ♪