Lost Highway Monologues

Anonymous videotapes presage a musician's murder conviction, and a gangster's girlfriend leads a mechanic astray.

Don't tailgate! Don't you fucking ever tailgate! Do you know how much space is needed to stop a car traveling at 35 miles per hour? Six car lengths! Six fuckin' car lengths! That's a hundred and six fuckin' feet, mister! If I had to stop suddenly, you woulda hit me! I want you to get a fuckin' driver's manual, and I want you to study that motherfucker! And I want you to obey the the goddamn rules of the road! Fifty-fuckin' thousand people were killed on the highways last year 'cause of fuckin' assholes like you! Tell me you're gonna get a manual!

I'm really glad to know you're doing okay. You're sure you're okay? Everything alright?

I'm really glad to know you're doin good, Pete. Hey, I want you to talk to a friend of mine.

This is where mechanical excellence and one-thousand four-hundred horsepower pays off.

You and me, mister… We can really out-ugly them sum'bitches… Can't we?

Boy, that's smooth. Smooth as shit off a duck's ass!

I'm sure you noticed that girl that was with me the other day, good lookin' blonde? She stayed in the car? Her name is Alice. I swear I love that girl to death. If I ever find out that somebody was making out with her, I'd take this…

...and shove it so far up his ass it would come out of his mouth. Then you know what I'd do?

I'd blow his fuckin' brains out.

Hey, you're looking good. What you been up to?

What do you guys want?

You and me, mister… we can really out-ugly them sonafabitches. Can't we?