..:: Presented by ZarFilm website ::.. ‏.:: www.bolboljan.net ::.
(BIRDS CAWING)
(TAPE PLAYER ROLLING)
(WOMAN SOBBING)
(SINISTER MUSIC PLAYING)
Why? We did everything!
(CRYING)
(SCREAMING)
(GRUNTS)
(HAMMER THUDDING)
(PENSIVE MUSIC PLAYING)
(SIREN BLARING IN DISTANCE)
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
DAVE: Okay, so check it out.
are, like,
the best movies in the last 30 years.
Did you see Kevin Costner? He's a fucking merman!
Did you see the fucking things behind his ears?
I mean, that's where the gills were.
You know that, right? He was, like, half fish.
is '80s.
Dune.
And also no Sting in... It's a thong.
It's like a space thong.
SHILL: Space thong? You guys talking about Sting?
You know what Sting does?
Are you aware of this? I don't know if you know this.
He delivers albums.
Where's my fucking record, Grohl?
It's all up here.
- SHILL: Oh, is it? - Yeah, it's all up here.
And in there, and in there, and in there, and in there.
Not so much here,
but I got it, man. It's all in here.
I think, personally, that doesn't amount
to a bucket of frozen shit.
I don't know where you get a bucket of frozen shit,
but that's what it's about!
When you fucking tell me you got a record,
all I got is a bucket of frozen shit!
I'm up to my eyeballs in debt...
and I gotta pay
some crazy piece-of-shit motherfuckers
who I owe so much money to
and I just found out they may be the ones
who fucking sliced up that journalist in Turkey.
I just want to give you
the fucking album that you want,
so you can pay off those people
before they turn your nut sack into a fucking coin purse.
- Relax. - Oh.
- Did you just say "relax"? - Yeah.
So here's the thing.
We were thinking... it's our tenth album, okay?
We can't do the same old shit.
We gotta break the fucking mold on this one.
Yeah, Shill, this record...
it's gotta fucking blow your fucking dick
right into your fucking mouth.
Blow your own dick into your mouth?
Yeah, right back up into your mouth, man.
SHILL: Right back up into your mouth?
Like it's been there before?
What kind of goal is that? I don't want that album!
Unless it makes me a lot of money.
Lot of money? Blow all the dicks you want.
Look, I can get you a studio,
anywhere you want in town tomorrow.
We've used all those studios, okay?
They all sound exactly the fucking same.
Okay? Let's think outside the box.
Let's go somewhere we've never been.
Let's go to a cool place... Like Zeppelin.
When Zeppelin went to the castle...
and there was the devil and the wizards
and the dragons and shit.
All right. So, you want me to find you
some wizards and dragons?
Yes! That's what we should be doing.
(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING)
You want that? You want that?
Watch as I make this happen.
Holy shit. You fuckers are not gonna believe it.
I got it. You gotta trust me and let me do this.
- (BEEPING) - (LINE RINGING)
Chilly Shills. What can I do for you, sunshine?
Hey, Barb!
I'm here in my office with the Foo Fighters!
And they're looking for a place
to record a new album.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
Oh.
I do know what you're thinking,
and I have the perfect place.
Foo Fighters, oh, I thought this time would never come.
Listen, I gotta jump.
But I'll shoot you the address in the A.M.
This place is to die for.
Prozem high five, up top.
Jeremy is fucking smoking!
(OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING)
Hi, Dave Grohl. I'm Barb Weems.
- How are you? - Hi, Barb. How are you?
- I'm such a fan. - Thank you.
I would love to get a selfie later,
if that's okay with you.
- Okay. - Hello, Foos! How are you?
It's so nice to meet you. Barb Weems.
So this is the house, and it is incredible.
I can't wait to show it to you. Come on.
This place... Okay, I know what you guys are thinking.
It needs a little sprucey-goosey,
and I agree.
But here's the thing,
this place has some serious rock and roll pedigree.
I mean, it rolls deep.
A huge music manager owned this place
in the '70s and '80s
and threw some wild parties.
Come, come.
How sexy is this stone-finished pool?
I can already see the girls in their bikinis.
Ooh, it's gonna be fun.
Are you gonna invite me to your parties?
Look at this state-of-the-art kitchen.
Do we have any chefs in the group?
I'm pretty handy on the grill.
- Oh. - Yeah.
Right, guys?
Yeah, if you like your meat charred and dry.
- Am I right? - PAT AND TAYLOR: Mm.
Take a look at the other room.
(WHISPERS) Fuck you.
This is my favorite room in the house.
These are original Babette Fosters.
You know, they stopped production
on those in the '80s.
I do love a good sconce.
But I don't know,
it definitely has a weird energy.
You guys feel that?
You guys get this overwhelming sense
of death and doom? Or is that just me?
Yeah, like someone's gonna
jump through the window
and start stabbing us in the eyes!
(BOTH YELLING)
Okay, I'm gonna be really straight
with you guys.
There was another band,
and they lived here in the '90s.
They thought the sound was incredible.
But they never finished their album.
(SCREAMS)
Creative differences.
I don't know.
Just doesn't really seem like the right fit.
- (SCREAMS) - (CLAP ECHOES)
Whoa. You hear that?
- (SNARLS) - (CLAP ECHOES)
That's fucking rad.
- (YELLS) - (CLAP ECHOES)
Whoa.
(CLAP ECHOES)
You hear that?
(VOICES WHISPERING INDISTINCTLY)
(GLASS SHATTERS)
Okay, so if we put the drums right here,
facing this way...
and then we could put the guitar stuff right here.
And we could do keyboards, like, over there.
We can put the mixing desk in the bedroom up there.
Mm. You know.
We'll take it.
Oh, well, that is music to my ears, baby.
I'll go draw up that paperwork right now.
Yay, I knew you would love it.
Okay, you guys, check it out.
The sound of this house is the sound of album 10.
No songs yet.
But we got the sound.
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)
All right, you guys, you know the drill.
All gear in the house.
Amps, living room.
Snare drum, shitty job, living room.
Expensive shit, guitars,
by the amp line in the living room.
Just fucking hate this shit.
(DRUM BEAT)
It's like a quarter of an inch that way. Just...
Just a little...
(DRUM BEAT)
It's like a hair more. Just like a tiny...
(DRUM BEAT)
Now it's too far. Gotta bring it back.
- (DRUM BEAT) - (AIR RESONATES)
- Did you hear that? - I did.
- Sweet, huh? - Whatever, Dave.
Who cares about a creepy death vibe...
drum sounds this good?
(PLAYING BLUES ROCK RHYTHM)
(EERIE MUSIC PLAYING)
All right, here's the deal.
Shill's a dick,
- we know this, right? - TAYLOR: Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.
But this is our tenth record, okay?
It's gotta be good.
But we gotta make it fast.
We gotta eat, sleep, and drink this motherfucker.
So I'm thinking...
we move in to record.
(ALL GROAN)
No, no, no. Hear me out. Hear me out.
Two weeks, tops. Maybe a month.
A month in this fucking shithole?
And then we can go on with our normal lives.
You tell my wife. I'm not telling her.
I'll tell your wife if you tell my wife.
I'll tell my own wife,
but someone's gotta talk to my kids.
What am I gonna tell my grandma?
Oh, I can call your grandma. She loves me.
You remember the Hanukkah party?
-(OLD WOMAN MOANING)
Come here, Grandma. Sit down. Mm.
Come on, baby, just touch it. Yeah!
Rami's not gonna know.
Mm!
bubbe!
(DOG BARKING IN DISTANCE)
Well, I guess that's settled.
I got master bedroom.
- Ooh, I get the guest house. - CHRIS: I get guest bedroom.
(BLADE SLICING INTERMITTENTLY)
(SHEARS SNIPPING)
No. No, no, no.
Excuse me.
Hello.
Hi. Excuse me.
Hey, hey, hey! Yo! Excuse me!
That's weird.
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)
How we looking, man? We all good?
Yeah, we're all good on our end.
Just need some juice, and we can start mic-ing up the room.
God damn it!
Dude, who wired this house,
a bunch of fucking mental patients?
Fuck. Jesus Christ.
(SCREAMS)
(GROANING)
No, no, no! Don't touch him! He's still hot!
- Oh, what the fuck? - Holy shit!
Wow. He's totally fried.
He's fucking dead!
(SIGHS) Oh.
Oh, man.
Krug! Krug! Jägermeister! Krug!
Krug!
(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)
Guess we should pack up.
That was a short-lived experiment.
(BAND MEMBERS MUTTERING)
You know, it's funny...
Hold on, guys. One second. Check it out.
Krug was really into this place.
You know, the way the drums sounded.
Dave, seriously, the guy just got turned
into a fucking bratwurst.
Exactly why we should stay here
and make the record. Okay?
It'll give his life meaning.
You know? We could dedicate it to Krug.
I don't know. I don't know.
I guess we can do
a couple of drum tracks here in his honor.
Exactly. That's what I'm talking about right there.
We have to have some fun with it, you know?
For Krug!
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING OVER SPEAKERS)
People think I look a lot like Willie Nelson.
(CHUCKLES)
You know what, you guys? I forgot to tell you.
Earlier today, before Krug got zapped,
there was this weird dude in the yard, creeping around.
What kind of dude?
Some weird guy
who was trimming the hedges and stuff.
The killer gardener of Encino.
Wouldn't be surprised in this house.
- (GRUNTS) - Oh, my God.
What the fuck! Shit! Dude, you all right, David?
The meat...
it's Krug.
(SIZZLING)
Ugh!
You know, usually I have a clear idea
of what we're going to do...
but ever since we moved into this house,
my mind is flooded...
where it's like, sometimes it's like Prince
and then it's like Slayer.
Then it's like fucking Lawrence Welk.
(SHEARS SNIP)
What is it?
(SHEARS SNIP)
You guys hear that?
Probably some raccoon,
'cause I heard them eating the trash last night.
Probably that creeper dude!
He better not be filming this!
(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING)
(SHEARS SNIPPING)
(BIRDS CAW)
(FAINT RUSTLING)
- Hey, neighbor! - Argh!
(WOMAN LAUGHING)
DAVE: God!
You should have seen your face!
- (SIGHS IN RELIEF) - Or should I say "feces"?
I mean, you looked like
- you crapped your pants. - Yep.
I'm Samantha. I live right next door.
I just wanted to introduce myself...
in case you boys needed anything.
A cup of sugar. Back-up singer. (CHUCKLES)
I got another confession to make
(GRUNTS)
Were you born to resist
Or be abused?
Is someone getting the best
The best, the best The best of you?
(CLAPPING)
Oh. Thank you.
We'll let you know about that one.
Okay. I'm around.
Let me apologize in advance
for all the rock we're about to make.
Oh, I can't hear anything
over my Portuguese singing bowls.
Ooh, those vibrations elevate the frequency of the psyche.
Play your cards right,
maybe you will get a sound bath later.
Okay, Rami-o. Let's keep it moving.
Namaste.
Hey, is there some sort of gardener dude
that takes care of the property...
trimming hedges and stuff?
No, Dave. Nobody lives here.
This house has been empty for years.
DAVE: Okay, check it out.
I got a couple new riff ideas I've been working on.
I'm gonna lay them on you.
Riff number one. Sounds like this.
(ALL MY LIFE)
All My Life?
Shit.
Okay, no, no, no. Hold on. I got one more.
(EVERLONG)
Dude, wait, wait, wait. That's a great fucking song.
Everlong,
and you wrote it about 20 years ago.
(SIGHS)
What? The well's run dry.
(EXHALES)
I've written all my songs already.
Ugh. All I have are these random snippets
of fossilized MTV bullshit in my head.
Dude, dude. Look here.
Have you ever tried meditating?
(RAMI HUMMING EERIE TUNE)
Fuck meditating in the ass, Rami!
All right, I'm gonna step out for a minute, guys.
Why don't we give Dave a little space here?
(DAVE SIGHS)
(SIGHS)
Something will come.
(DRUMMING HARD ROCK BEAT)
(STRUMMING OFFKEY TUNE)
Ugh! Son of a fucking bitch!
(PLAYING TUNE ON PIANO)
I've been alone with you inside my mind
In my dreams
I've kissed your lips a thousand times
I sometimes see you pass outside my door
Hello...
- Ahhh! - Hello, Dave.
Lionel!
We all have writer's block, you know?
- Mm-hmm. - (INHALES)
But that's my fucking song.
- That's my fucking song! - Mm-hmm.
You understand what I'm saying?
I like that song. No, no, no. I love that song!
That's one of my favorite songs.
- I love singing that song. - Mm-hmm.
LIONEL: Love that song!
Get your own song!
Nerd.
(DOOR CREAKS)
(SINISTER MUSIC PLAYING)
Ugh. Taylor, sleep in your own bed.
Taylor?
You...
are not...
the first!
Krug! Oh, my God, I'm so sorry!
They are watching!
(SCREAMING)
No, Krug!
(EXHALES AND SIGHS)
(THUNDER RUMBLING)
What the fuck!
- (UNEARTHLY WAILING) - (DAVE WHIMPERING)
- (GHOSTS WAILING) - What the fuck!
Oh, my God!
(WOMAN SOBBING)
- (DAVE SCREAMING) - (GHOSTS CONTINUE WAILING)
(BEASTLY SNARLING)
(WHIMPERING)
(SCREAMING)
(CREATURES ROARING)
(SCREAMS)
(EXHALES)
Fuck this. I'm starving.
DELIVERY GUY: Yeah, I got, like,
three or four chicken parms here?
(GATE RATTLING)
(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING)
(DOOR CREAKING)
Whoa. You're Dave Grohl! What?
(LAUGHS)
Yeah, I get that all the time.
Uh, right. Yeah. I heard about this.
You're, like, incognito, right?
No, see, I'm not Dave Grohl.
Dave Grohl can actually write music.
Don't. I'm seriously a huge fan.
You're, like, my second favorite band after Coldplay.
You know, I asked for extra ranch.
Oh, yeah, and I'll go run back,
get some for you.
Yeah, 'cause it'll only take a few minutes.
You know, I'm in a band, yeah.
But, yeah, I'll run back and get some ranch
and drop it off with my demo, if that's cool.
(WHISPERING) I'll just use the marinara.
Hey, what's up?
This is Bob from playthisriff.com
and you've come here today
because you have song-writing constipation.
So, when I have song-writing constipation
and I want a violent, greasy dose of the hits,
I turn to classic riff structure,
like this. Check it out.
-(STRUMS RIFF)
Part B.
(STRUMS RIFF)
-(STRUMS RIFF)
Part C.
- (STRUMS RIFF) - (WATER DRIPPING)
Am I the only one who cares about the drought around here?
- (SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING) - (WATER CONTINUES DRIPPING)
(GASPS)
(WATER CONTINUES DRIPPING)
(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC CONTINUES)
(COYOTE CALLING IN DISTANCE)
(DISTANT DRIPPING)
(DOOR CREAKS)
(DRIPPING CONTINUES)
(SPLUTTERS)
(DRIPPING CONTINUES)
DAVE: (WHISPERS) Oh, fuck.
(DRIPPING CONTINUES)
Who kills a fucking raccoon?
Ugh.
(DRIPPING)
He's real.
Dave...
(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING)
Whoa.
(BLOWS)
"Dream Widow." No way.
(CHUCKLES)
(DISTORTED GUITAR RIFF PLAYING)
(HARD ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)
This stuff's incredible.
Fuck, yeah.
(HIGH TEMPO HARD ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)
It's the sound. It's this fucking sound.
(LAUGHING) Yes! Fuck, yes!
Fuck!
It's fucking incredible!
(MUSIC STOPS)
No, no, no, no. No, no, no, no. Don't stop.
There's gotta be more.
Fuck, there's gotta be more. Please, God.
Please, please, please.
(MUTTERS)
Fuck!
No. Shit! God damn it!
God, it was perfect!
(CLICKS)
(TAPE PLAYER WHINES)
(HIGH TEMPO HARD ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)
(DISTORTED DEMONIC VOICE SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)
(DEMONIC VOICE CONTINUES SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)
(HARD ROCK MUSIC PLAYING INTERMITTENTLY)
(GROANING)
Finish it and it begins.
Finish it. End it.
Finish it and it begins.
(DEMONIC VOICE STOPS)
(BREATHING HEAVILY)
(SIGHS)
Fuck.
Finish it.
(SCREAMS)
(CREATURES HISSING)
(VOICES WHISPERING INDISTINCTLY)
(DAVE COUGHING)
(GASPS LOUDLY AND SIGHS)
What are you doing?
There's a dead raccoon in there.
(PACKET CRINKLES)
(SIGHS)
Dick.
- (PLAYING HEAVY METAL MUSIC) - (AIR RESONATING)
(STRUMMING HIGH NOTES)
- (SLAMS NOTE) - (AIR RESONATES)
- Wow. - Awesome, man.
(BAND MEMBERS WHOOP)
Fuck. It's like you were musically constipated
and now you just took
the biggest musical shit on us.
- Fucking awesome! - I know, right?
I'm still working on it.
It's like a hundred ideas in my head
just fighting to get out.
Could be a double, maybe a triple album.
- I don't know. - Let's get to work.
Fuck you, Nate.
Don't tell me what to do, asshole.
Told you it would come, man.
Yeah, you did, didn't you?
(GUITAR STRING PLUCKING)
What key is this in?
- (SLAMS NOTE) - (AIR RESONATES)
(NOTE STOPS RINGING)
L sharp.
You found a new musical note?
Hell motherfucking yes, I did.
Came to me last night. Just dropped in my head.
Like, boom!
You're welcome, music.
So, the L sharp, that's basically an E flat,
only like an octave up?
It's not an E, it's an L.
- (PLUCKS NOTE) - (AIR RESONATES)
If you guys could just, like,
open up your hearts and minds,
you know, maybe you'd be able to hear it.
So, what happened to...
H, I, J, K?
G, H I don't give a fuck!
It's L sharp, okay, you guys?
That's the root note of the song.
(PLUCKING NOTES)
Yes, yes, you're getting warmer. Yes.
Pat, you're cold, like North Pole, Antarctica.
Not even close.
I think I'm feeling something.
- (KNOCK AT DOOR) - Oh, God. Who the fuck!
SAMANTHA: Hello?
Oh. Any hungry rock stars in there?
Brought some num-nummy treats.
Oh, God, I detest that woman. Ugh!
- Lemon bar? - Go away!
Dude, lighten up. She's hot.
- Hello, beautiful. What's up? - (LAUGHING) Hey.
Some fresh-baked lemon bars for my favorite band.
It's my grandma's recipe,
but I added my own little twist to it.
- Ooh, is that cocaine? - Mm-hmm.
Mm-hmm. Not a good time right now
'cause we're working on music, okay?
How you feeling? Everything okay?
Never better.
(WHISPERS) I'll get rid of her.
Get her the fuck out of here!
Hey. Sorry, he gets really intense
when we're recording.
I need to talk to you, alone.
Ooh, I'd like to get you alone, too.
No, it's about this house. There's something evil.
(SAMANTHA GASPS SOFTLY)
I should go. Dave seems stressed.
RAMI: Hey, how about that sound bath later?
- What the fuck, cock-blocker! - Fuck you, Rami!
(PLAYING HEAVY METAL MUSIC)
Wait, wait, wait! Hold on, hold on, hold on.
Uh...
Taylor, take it from the boom- bah-boom-bah-boom-bah part.
There's like eight thousand boom-bahs.
- Which one do you mean? - You know which one.
You know we're coming in at, like,
23 minutes and counting, right?
So what? So maybe we have a song that has no end.
So, we're not close.
I mean, to me it just feels like
there's something missing, you know?
Uh, you know, guys, let's just run through
what we've got.
I'm sure you'll get it.
Thanks, Chris. You fucking asshole!
Go!
One, two, three, four.
(PLAYING HEAVY METAL MUSIC)
(DAVE HUMMING EERIE TUNE)
- DAVE: Nate! - What?
I got an idea, okay? Downstairs, now. Let's go.
Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.
DAVE: Peter.
Yo, what up, D?
I got an idea. Come downstairs.
(WOMAN MOANING ON LAPTOP)
(RAMI BREATHES DEEPLY)
- Are those mine? - Oh, yeah. I borrowed them.
- Have you seen Pat? - No idea.
Hey, Pat!
PAT: (SLEEPILY) In here.
(GASPS)
What are you doing in here?
Well, this is the most comfortable place
I could find.
And there's snacks.
Oh.
- Voila! - You made this?
Yeah. It's like the only thing
that'll get this song out of my head, you know?
- And that's the song? - Exactly.
So, each one of these little nails
is one of us.
The yarn represents the vibrations of sound
that our music makes,
connecting all of us in an unending form.
It's like the universe...
You know, there's no beginnings, no end.
(LAUGHS AND SNORTS)
Great, Dave.
Can we pick this up in the morning?
Well, I kind of had these new ideas, and I was hoping...
maybe we could put them down tonight so I don't forget them.
No, man, I gotta go to sleep. I'm tired.
What did you just say?
Come on, I don't even have a bedroom.
I never get any sleep. Let's just do this tomorrow.
Before that. Small word.
Begins with an N, ends with an O.
Nothing in between.
No. I said no.
(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING)
No?
Did you just say no... to Dave Grohl?
I'm a fucking rock star! Okay?
I get whatever I want, whenever I want!
The best parking wherever I go for eternity!
Them's the rules!
(INHUMAN SNARL)
Come on, come on.
Talk to Jimmy Page if you don't like it.
Dude, what the fuck?
I'll do it if you stop being such a fucking dick!
Thank you. Can we just do this, please?
- One, two, three... - No, no, hey, hey!
Is there any way you could count it like:
five, six, seven, eight!
Like a fucking dancer counting in a dance?
That's fine. Cool.
Five, six, seven, eight!
PAT: Dude has gone fucking crazy!
Like, ass-flapping, dick-slapping,
crazy.
Listen. Come on, guys, let's just buckle down,
give him what he wants,
and we can get the fuck out of here.
- Yeah, but what does he want? - DAVE: Hey, guys!
(IN PIG LATIN) Ixnay on the Aveday.
- (IN ENGLISH) What's up, guys? - Hey.
- What's happening? - What's up?
I just wanted to say... I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for being such a giant, red,
puckered orangutan's asshole last night.
This album means the world to me, okay?
And I think I just let it take over,
and I treated you like shit...
and I'm really sorry.
Which one of you gave Dave a hummer?
- Rami. - Rami.
Listen, we're so close, okay?
If we could just finish this song tonight,
we'll be out by Sunday.
Promise.
Stick with me. We can do this.
(SIGHS) The song is pretty epic, dude.
Right? I do think it should have an ending, by the way.
- Thank God. - Okay.
So I have this idea, right?
It starts with Nate.
The root, the foundation, the bass.
Nate goes...
(IMITATING BASE RIFF)
Chris, Rami, you come in like warships,
banging off each other.
(CONTINUES IMITATING BASS RIFF)
(IMITATES DRUM BEATS)
Then, Rami, you're all...
(BLUBBERING)
Pat, Taylor, you come in like riders of the Apocalypse.
(IMITATES DRUMBEATING AND GUITAR STRUMMING)
- Whack! - Whoa!
- Whack! - (GRUNTS)
- Whack! - Yeah!
(IMITATING HEAVY METAL MUSIC PLAYING)
(YELLING AND GRUNTING INDISTINCTLY)
(IMITATING GUITAR HIGH NOTES)
(IMITATING BASS RIFFS)
Bam!
Like that! You know what I'm saying?
- We got this. Right? - (BAND MEMBERS MURMURING)
- TAYLOR: Yeah, we can do this. - Pearl Jam high five.
Pearl Jam high five.
Break! We're still alive.
- Come on, let's go! - (PAT WHOOPS)
(AMPLIFIER WHINING)
(PLAYING HEAVY METAL MUSIC)
(IMPERCEPTIBLE)
(PLAYING HIGH TEMPO HEAVY METAL MUSIC)
(PLAYING MELLOW TUNE)
You sure you want us to leave?
I think we're all good.
All right. Well, if you track anything this weekend,
just pop it onto a drive, and we'll mix it on Monday.
Let's get out of here.
(HEAVY METAL MUSIC PLAYING OVER HEADPHONES)
How's it going, bro? How's it sounding?
It's good. I'm just cleaning up some tracks.
Cool, man. I haven't seen you eat anything all day.
Are you hungry?
How about some grill action, dude?
No. I ordered a shit-ton of steaks earlier.
The guy should be here any minute.
Cool, man. I'll let you know when he's here.
(GATE RATTLING OPEN)
All right.
"Oh, Dave, I forgot you were staying here!
"Oh, well, here's your food and, uh...
"Yeah, I brought you that CD I was talking about."
Oh, he's not gonna buy that.
Come on! (EXHALES)
You are a worthy and talented musician.
I'm a worthy and talented musician!
(EXHALES SHARPLY)
(OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING)
"Hey, Dave. Brought you
a bunch of extra ranch this time, man.
"Oh, this? It's my demo that I told you about. Yeah."
(EXHALES)
(VOICE HISSES)
Dave?
Hello? Dave?
Oh, hey, sorry it took so long.
Yeah, I just wanted to make sure
they got your order right.
It's all back here. I got...
Dave!
What the hell?
(CREATURES SCREECHING)
(GASPING AND SCREAMING)
Hey, did that delivery guy ever show up?
Yeah, I don't know. Gonna take a look.
Looks like he just dropped the bags and left.
You know, I think I kind of freaked him out.
He wanted to drop a demo on me.
- Mm. - I wasn't really in the mood.
NATE: Mm.
What is it? Think he's still out there?
(SOFTLY) You can never have enough ranch.
(SNIFFING)
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
TAYLOR: Okay, so what's left?
So...
drum tracks tomorrow...
and then we just gotta figure out
how to end this thing.
We're not actually making a 38-minute-long song, right?
- DAVE: No. - Okay, cool.
It's gonna be fucking longer than that.
TAYLOR: What? RAMI: Huh?
- TAYLOR: What? - It's gonna be epic, man!
It's gonna be like 2112 times 2112.
What?
Hey, buddy, why don't you
let me take the grill tomorrow night?
It seems like you got a lot on your mind.
Okay.
Just leave mine raw, dude.
It's so fucking juicy.
Hey, guys, it's Barb!
I'm just checking in
to see how everything is going.
Oh, my God. They are barbarians.
Oh, my goodness, it's on the ceiling.
Okay, how do they even do that?
Ugh.
(FLIES BUZZING)
(GASPS)
Oh, my God.
What did you do?
(YELPS)
- Hey, Barb. - Pat!
I thought you were dead. (LAUGHS)
Wow. Uh...
How is everything going?
Is, uh, is Dave done with his big concept album?
- He told you about that? - Oh, yeah.
I guess he's been talking to Shill.
They seemed pretty excited.
- Where is everyone? - Upstairs, sleeping.
Oh. I used to sleep here,
but not with all this crap on it.
A lemon bar?
No, thank you. I don't eat sugar or gluten.
Or any citrus fruits, or dairy, or corn.
It's terrible for your gut.
PAT: Mm.
You know, they actually look homemade.
Is there a baker in the band?
Mm-mm. Lady next door?
Samantha?
That woman is a train wreck. I've known her for years.
- "Sacrifice"? - What did you just say?
I did, uh... Me... Huh?
Um, I don't know. Nothing.
Hey, Barb. What's up? You made it.
David, how goes it? Is the album almost done?
Yeah, it's so good.
- Yeah, it's killer. - BARB: Oh.
Yeah, we're actually wrapping up tonight.
Oh, great.
So I should make arrangements accordingly then.
I'm gonna go freshen up.
Hmm, interesting guy.
He's the best.
(HEAVY METAL MUSIC PLAYING)
All right. Wait, wait, wait. Stop, stop, stop.
Something's not right.
It's the ending.
You know, there has to be more.
You know, if we just stopped recording,
it would be over!
Yup. A tight 44 fucking minutes.
And then ending in a nice slow fade '70s style.
'Cause, dude, I have blisters on my fucking blisters.
My hands are killing me, dude.
Yeah, we've been looking
for this mythical fucking ending all day.
You know what, I'm fucking out of here.
- (LOUD FEEDBACK) - ALL: Whoa!
RAMI: Frigging dick sandwich!
PAT: Fuck you, Shifty!
What the fuck? Forty-minute fucking song.
"Look at me. I'm Dave Grohl, the big fucking genius.
"I don't have any fucking rules.
"I write songs with no fucking endings.
"Forty minutes long." (SCOFFS)
He can't even cook a piece of meat
to save his life.
(WIND HISSING)
Hey, Shifty, need a beer or anything?
Yeah, to shove up Dave's fucking ass!
(INDISTINCT WHISPERING)
(GRUNTS)
- (SCREAMING) - (SIZZLING)
(CHRIS GROANING)
(CHRIS CHOKING AND SPLUTTERING)
(SINISTER MUSIC PLAYING)
Fucking blisters, man.
I should start wearing those stupid fucking gloves.
Fuck this, man. I'm outta here.
Just hang out.
Chris just had to blow off some steam.
We should get Dave one of those magnet bracelets.
His energy's way off.
(PAT SCREAMING)
(PAT SHOUTING AND SCREAMING)
What the fuck is that?
RAMI: Oh! See? Fucking horrific, isn't it?
(FLIES BUZZING)
Who the fuck is that?
And where the fuck is his head?
It's the delivery guy. Look at all this ranch.
- Holy shit! - (FLIES BUZZING)
Holy shit!
That's the guy that delivered all the food earlier.
(FLIES BUZZING)
TAYLOR: Don't touch that. No, no, no. Ugh.
RAMI: Dave, Dave, don't... Ugh!
"Bone Structure."
He wanted me to hear this.
How long has this guy been here?
I'm picking up some energy beacons.
He transitioned around 28 hours ago.
Where the fuck did you learn that?
Pasadena.
TAYLOR: First, Krug gets electrocuted, and now this?
Fuck this shit. I'm calling the cops.
- No, no, no. No cops! - Fuck this shit.
No fucking cops!
What the fuck!
Maybe Dave's right. We should call Shill. I mean, look at...
If this gets out, it's gonna be bad.
Listen, no cops, no Shill.
Okay, we cannot afford that intrusion right now.
Guy looks like a fucking salami sandwich up there.
- What the fuck? - DAVE: I understand.
This is bad. And this is sad.
But if we call the cops right now...
they're gonna turn this place into a crime scene
and you can kiss that awesome drum sound goodbye forever.
- So, we just keep on going? - Yes! One more day.
We finish this thing out,
okay, and then we can call everybody.
We can call the FBI, CSI, NCIS.
We'll call them all. And then we'll give, uh...
Darren Sandelbaum, from Bone Structure,
a proper burial.
Caskets, flowers, the whole nine.
We can even tweet a link
to the Bone Structure on our Insta-thing.
RAMI: Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. DAVE: You know what I mean?
This is what Darren would have wanted.
And he might have wanted
- to keep his fucking head. - Yeah.
He didn't want to fuck up our record!
He loved this band.
He died for our band.
Let's do this, you guys. Okay?
Do it for Darren Sandelbaum.
You guys in?
You in?
- Well... - Are you guys in?
(MUMBLES INDISTINCTLY)
Come on, let's get to work.
(SIGHS)
Oh, by the way, I'm gonna need everybody's cell phones
and the keys to the van.
'Cause no one's going anywhere until we finish this song.
Thank you.
Thank you. Thank you.
Thank you.
TAYLOR: I don't have a phone anymore.
Thank you.
(PLAYING RIFF)
(AIR RESONATES)
It all comes back to the L sharp. Got it?
Yeah, we got it. Totally got it.
Let's just track the song so we can go home.
I'm tired. My kids think I'm dead.
And where's Shifty? He should be here.
He was out by the grill. He's gone.
Okay, let's just do this one more time.
- Count us in. - Five, six, seven, eight...
Actually, no. You know what, this time...
odd numbers only in this section.
One, three, five, seven. Hit it.
Okay.
One, three, five, seven.
- (PLAYING HEAVY METAL MUSIC) - (AIR RESONATES)
(SOFTLY) He's still eating. Let's go.
He came out of here.
- I was back here eating chips. - Big surprise.
Then I found this.
The neighbor lady that left the lemon bars left this.
(RAMI GASPS)
It's a code! She's been trying to warn us!
You just want to fucking bang her, Rami.
Yes, I want to bang her.
But I also want to not get decapitated.
Let's go ask her.
She's always by the fence. Let's go.
(IMITATING BIRD CALL)
That's you?
I thought we had an infestation
of yellow warblers.
That was the wood thrush, genius.
SAMANTHA: Not here, little thrush.
Come to the pool. We don't have much time.
Guys! Hey!
Come here! Now!
How did you get over there so fast?
Now!
I need you boys to open your minds
for a moment...
and fucking listen.
This house, this is not just a creepy rock and roll house.
We are standing on a nexus
that allows spiritual entities to cross into our world.
- (IMITATES GHOST BOOING) - Can it, drummer boy.
You ever hear of Dream Widow?
Of course. They were supposed to be
the next Jane's Addiction.
Greg Null was a fucking genius.
Yeah, till he went batshit crazy
and killed his whole fucking band.
Right here in this house.
Yeah, that's just rock and roll folklore.
Mm-mm, I was there.
Greg Null and I were close. Very close.
I was his number one groupie and muse.
Now we're taking advice from groupies?
Hey, watch the labels. Groupies are people, too.
You gotta understand, this was the roaring '90s.
No one gave a fuck about shit.
But Greg, he was a visionary, an artist of the dark.
We were all into some
experimental life choices back then.
The occult sex, energy transfers,
and spectrophilia.
He possessed this living book
made from human flesh.
The book was rumored to hold the secret incantations...
of Aleister Crowley.
As time went on,
something truly sinister took a hold of Greg.
He was obsessed with this song from the book...
Lacrimis de Ebrius.
"The tears of God."
Every day he made his band try to complete this song.
He believed that perfecting it
would open an eternal portal...
and the spirit inside him
would become a demonic passage...
into our world.
(DEMONIC ROARING)
You guys were ghost fuckers?
Somehow, the good won out in Greg
and he stopped it the only way he could.
Greg killed himself
to stop the completion of the song.
But now, the spirit that possessed him
has found a new instrument.
(GUITAR STRUMMING)
(WHISPERING) Go! Go! Go! Go! Faster!
Go! Hurry!
Shit! Shit! Shit!
RAMI: Oh, shit. Fuck. Fucking dolls.
SAMANTHA: What the fuck! God damn it!
I didn't spend the last 20 years
teaching Pilates in Encino
so that thing can have its way!
You moved next door to this place on purpose?
Someone had to guard the portal.
Yeah, well, he's already been possessed.
What are we gonna do now?
(SIGHS)
Bring him down here.
Maybe I can just suck it out the old fashioned way.
- Oh, hell, no. Bad idea. - Oh, sorry. Old habits.
There's got to be a better way.
Uh, we just call the cops.
Oh, my God, that's such a good idea.
"Hi. Dave Grohl's been possessed
"by the spirit of Greg Null.
"Now he's on a murderous rampage."
Best idea I've heard since,
"Hey, let's move into this house."
Okay. What the fuck should we do?
Come on.
The book.
It uses blood to stay alive. He uses, um, raccoons.
Ah, the basement.
He said something about raccoons
when he came up from the basement.
Okay. Find the book.
Turn to a passage called Van Houten's Protocol.
That will close the portal
and send this fucking spirit back to hell.
What about you?
You're going to be in danger
now that you've told us all this.
Ugh.
(CHUCKLES) You wanna stay back and make sure I'm safe?
She's right. Nate, Pat, you guys go find the book.
Taylor, go keep Dave occupied.
Drum tracks.
You haven't done any drum tracks yet.
I ain't going anywhere near
that fucking psycho. Fuck that.
No, just go up there and fuck up the drums
so he can't finish the song.
Shouldn't be too hard for you.
Eat a bag of dicks, Smear.
Be careful,
this is far from a simple possession.
That caretaker is more than just Greg Null.
There is an evil spirit inside him.
- Let's go. - No, I said I'm not doing it!
I'm not going near that motherfucking house!
Come on!
PAT: Let's go! Come on!
TAYLOR: Fuck you, motherfuckers!
(SOFTLY) Yes.
- He took the fucking SIM card! - Quick.
(GRUNTING AND PANTING)
(RAMI MOANING)
I'll keep you so fucking safe right now.
- I bet you will. - (BOTH MOANING)
I wanna take this off. Take this off.
(GRUNTING) Can't get it off!
(BOTH MOANING)
Wait, wait, wait. Put some music on
so Dave doesn't hear us.
All right.
Okay, let's go.
Maybe I should wait up here, to be a lookout?
No fucking way, dude. Come on.
(DOOR CREAKING)
(PLAYING OVER SPEAKERS)
(SAMANTHA GRUNTING AND PANTING)
My latest guilty pleasure.
Ooh. That is my shit! Mm!
- RAMI: Mm-hmm. - (LAUGHS)
- Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh. - (LAUGHS)
(BOTH BREATHING HEAVILY)
(MUFFLED RATTLING)
(SAMANTHA MOANING)
(CHAINSAW REVVING OVER SPEAKERS)
This is my favorite part! This is my favorite part!
Ooh, you're nasty. I like that.
(SAMANTHA MOANING LOUDLY)
(CHAINSAW REVVING)
(RAMI SCREAMING)
(SONG CONTINUES PLAYING OVER SPEAKERS)
(DEMONIC ROARING)
(SONG STOPS PLAYING)
(SOFTLY) Jesus... somebody lived down here.
Greg Null, or whatever he is now.
Ugh. Fuck, dude. Look!
"The sacrifice feeds the book."
Poor little guy.
Pat, find me something to pry this open with.
(RACCOON SQUEALING)
(DEMONIC SNARLING)
(GASPING AND SCREAMING)
(SCREECHING)
(SCREAMING) Fuck!
(PANTING AND SCREAMING)
(DEMONIC SNARLING)
(SCREAMING)
(CREATURES SNARLING)
- (SCREAMING) - Come on!
(BEATS THUMPING)
(RAPPING)
Hey, buddy. How you doing, man?
(THUMPING CONTINUES)
The ending.
I can hear it.
All we need to do is lay down the drums.
The drums? Why don't you and Shifty
do some more guitars?
Shifty's done.
Warm up.
You're next.
PAT: What's happening? NATE: Fucking hell!
PAT: With these fucking demons!
There's, like,
- real fucking demons, Nate! - (SHUSHING)
Lacrimis de Ebrius.
Demonic incantations.
Ah. Here we go, exorcisms.
(DRUMS BEATING)
No, no, no, that's not it. That's not it.
You're doing this on purpose, man.
No, man. I'm just trying to get this fucking ending right.
Okay, it's fucking simple. It just goes...
(IMITATES RHYTHMIC DRUM BEATING)
I'm pretty sure that's what I was doing, man.
Pretty sure it's not.
Dude, why don't we just wait for Nate and Pat to get here?
Nate and Pat?
Fuck them!
What do they know about fucking drums?
You and me, right? We're drummers.
We speak the same language.
Let's finish the fucking track.
Can't we just wait, dude?
Let's just finish the fucking track
and get out of here!
It's not Dave. You're not Dave.
What did you just say?
I didn't say anything, man.
(IN DEMONIC VOICE) Just play the fucking drums!
(SIGHS)
(HEAVY METAL PLAYING OVER HEADPHONES)
(DRUMSTICKS THWACKING)
(DRUMBEATING RHYTHMICALLY)
(IN NORMAL VOICE) Yeah. That's it.
Yeah!
That's it!
(HEAVY METAL MUSIC PLAYING OVER SPEAKERS)
(AIR RESONATES)
There you go, man. I finished the fucking song.
(IN DEMONIC VOICE) You did.
Thank you.
NATE: "The Van Houten Protocol for Demonic Cleansing.
It's imperative to confirm
the possessing entity is of demonic origin...
before employing these techniques.
Look for these signs.
One, digestive system shutdown."
(RETCHING LOUDLY)
No more oatmeal beer bongs for Davey. (CHUCKLES)
"Ability to levitate objects or defy gravity."
Just play nice with this L sharp bullshit, right?
Play E flat and get through it.
(IN DEMONIC VOICE) It's an L! L!
NATE: "Incessant masturbation."
Dave!
- What are you doing in there? - (MUFFLED FLAPPING)
Sounds like you're playing patty cake
with a soft chicken dumpling!
- Didn't he do that already? - Does that disqualify him?
(SIGHS) This demonic shit's complicated.
"Insatiable hunger for raw meat,
human flesh in particular."
Fuck, I think he ate Chris.
Fuck, he's definitely possessed.
Okay. So, what do we do?
We go save his ass.
(MOTOR STARTS)
That's not good.
NATE: What's he doing?
(OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING)
Oh, my God. I think we're too late!
That's Taylor! Look!
Read the book. We gotta stop this!
Here we go. To begin the Van Houten Protocol...
(WHISPERS) Quiet!
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)
(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING)
(PAT SCREAMING)
NATE: (EXCLAIMING) Fuck!
(DEMONIC ROARING)
(BOTH SCREAMING)
(DAVE GROWLING)
(DAVE CONTINUES GROWLING)
(SNARLS)
(EXCLAIMS) Fuck.
What the fuck!
Jesus! Jesus! Fuck!
- (DEMONIC ROARING) - (PAT AND NATE EXCLAIM)
(CREATURES SCREECHING)
(PAT AND NATE SCREAMING)
Close the door!
(PANTING)
(SOFTLY) All right, all right, all right.
"The vessel must be purified
to release the infecting spirit.
Copious amounts of Holy Water..."
PAT: The pool!
"Under the designations of these sacred passages,
I anoint this body of water as a conduit of purity."
(LOW GROWLING)
Oh.
(IN DEMONIC VOICE) That won't work.
You don't know what you're doing.
(SHOES SQUEAKING)
(DAVE GRUNTING)
(DEMONIC CHUCKLING)
Whoa, whoa.
Hurry up and read!
"Heavenly Father, Holy Spirit, rebel son Jesus,
bestow your divine power into this water
that we may wash Dave clean from this foul demon!"
Something's happening!
Yes, your death is being delayed.
The fucking demons!
Give me the fucking book,
or I'll rip it out of your dead hands!
"Hear us, Lord, come cleanse the soul
of this infernal beast
that hath taken Dave and turned him
into a satanic vessel from hell!"
Stop reading that fucking book!
Fuck you! We want Dave back!
Dave? Dave's been gone for decades.
He's a slave to music.
What about our band?
The band? (LAUGHS)
What about them? Rami got what he wanted.
Taylor finished the song.
And Chris... Chris was right.
He does make a killer barbecue. (CHUCKLING)
"Demon of the Twelfth Realm, defiler of souls...
sitting at the left hand of Lucifer..."
You're weak! You're nothing!
I'll crush your pathetic souls!
"I command you to be gone from this human vessel!
Take leave of this innocent body...
and return to your kingdom of blasphemy and filth!"
(DAVE AND DEMONS ROARING)
NATE: Oh, Demon!
Let Dave fucking go!
PAT: Do you see him? Where did he go?
- Where is he? - I don't know.
(YELLING)
(IN NORMAL VOICE) Oh, my God!
(GASPING)
You guys!
(DAVE GRUNTING)
(COUGHING)
Oh, God.
Ugh, last thing I remember
is that fucking raccoon, man,
and then poof!
Dude, we got some bad news.
Oh, my God, the song.
We cannot finish the song, okay?
Whatever's in that basement, we can't let it out.
No, it's about the guys.
I think I swallowed some pool water.
(GAGS AND COUGHS)
I fucking love you guys, man.
I fucking love you. (SOBS)
You totally saved my... (RETCHING)
(CONTINUES RETCHING)
Oh, gross!
Is that Shifty?
God, that tastes like shit!
It's all right, buddy. You're okay now.
Oh, God.
(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING)
(SQUELCHING)
No.
No! No!
(IN DEMONIC VOICE) Now I'll kill you,
like the rest of your pathetic little band.
- (YELLING) - (ROARING)
(DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING)
(ROARING)
(DAVE GRUNTING)
(DAVE EXCLAIMING)
- Fuck you! Fuck you! - (GROANING)
Fuck you!
(GROANING)
Killed us. Crushed our dreams.
You were weak. The curse is lifted.
Now you will suffer.
Suffer. Suffer. Suffer.
(EERIE MUSIC PLAYING)
(BREATHING HEAVILY)
(OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING)
(SPIRITS HISSING AND SCREECHING)
The sacrifice feeds the book.
Thank you.
(DEMONIC SCREAMING)
Okay.
Get me the fuck out of here, man.
(OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING)
The fucking van.
Hey, we're gonna grab the van. Stay here.
DAVE: Okay.
(PANTING)
(EXHALES)
(CONTINUES PANTING)
(CAR APPROACHING)
Oh, fuck! We gave shitty Dave the keys! Ugh.
Just get in.
What are you doing?
I'm gonna do it the old-fashioned way.
Hit the gas when the wire makes contact.
What?
You need to hit the gas when I spark it!
(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING)
What are you doing here?
SHILL: See if there's any others left.
Oh, my God. Shill, thank God you're here.
This house is a fucking shit show, man!
You have no idea what we just went through.
The devil rules all of rock and roll.
What? No, no, no. Listen.
This place is a disaster, okay?
It's been a fucking nightmare recording here!
Why did you send us to this house?
Don't give me your sob story, Dave.
I know exactly what's going on.
- You do? - Oh, yeah.
You know, rock and roll... (SCOFFS)
It hasn't been relevant for a long time.
It needs an infusion.
Okay, I don't know
what kind of weird shit you're into...
The devil will make rock and roll relevant again.
The devil will make it dangerous.
You finished the song, didn't you, Dave?
Uh...
No, not yet. It's complicated.
We're close.
It's just the arrangement and the composition is...
I've been waiting 20 years to finish that song!
I just needed the right vehicle.
Someone who could handle all that evil.
I needed you.
First of all, Obi-Wan Kenobi, nice fucking cape.
Second of all, you're so fucking lame!
Who the fuck do you think you are?
Sending us to this fucking shithole
to make a record?
You're just a manager, okay?
You don't know the first fucking thing about music!
You just wanna make your money.
I made you!
(SHILL YELLS)
(DAVE GRUNTS)
(WIRE SPARKS)
(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING)
Pat! Pat, there's something back there, come on!
Oh, shit!
- (GRUNTING AND GROANING) - (GRUNTING)
(GROANS)
(YELLS, LAUGHS)
- (GRUNTS) - (YELLS IN PAIN)
Pat, move, move, move!
What the fuck do you think I'm doing? Hold on a minute!
- (GRUNTS) - Oh, motherf...!
- (SHILL YELLING) - (DAVE YELLS IN PAIN)
- (GROANS) - (GROANS)
Dude, the time is fucking nigh! Start the car!
Nate, give me a fucking minute! I almost got it!
NATE: Come on, move! It's getting closer!
It's almost here, Pat. Come on!
What the fuck are you doing down there?
(SHILL YELLS IN PAIN)
- (YELLS) - (GRUNTS)
Dude! Pat, now, now, now!
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, I know, I know! Hold on!
Hi, guys.
(GRUNTS) Stop fighting me, Dave.
- (DAVE GROANS) - Stop fighting me.
I'm trying to help you!
The real you!
Donke zonke allar beiga!
Beiga zonke!
(DAVE YELLS)
Here it comes! Spark it!
- (ENGINE STARTS) - (NATE SCREAMING)
Nate!
(SCREAMS)
Oh, fuck! Pat! Fuck.
Pat! Sorry, Pat! I'm sorry!
- (THUNDER RUMBLING) - Barb? (GASPS)
(NATE GRUNTS)
(THUNDER CRASHING)
(SHILL GROANING LOUDLY)
Help? I killed my band because of your help!
Die, you cocksucker! Die!
(IN RASPY VOICE) You finished it.
You finished the song, didn't you?
You finished it.
(SHILL COUGHING)
(SHILL GROANING)
You finished it. You did, didn't you?
Ah.
Look at the rage in your eyes.
You're not Dave Grohl.
It's time for your solo career.
(MUFFLED CROWD CHEERING)
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
We're ready for you, brother.
That is a full house out there.
You all good, Dave?
(IN DEMONIC VOICE) Never better.
Okay.
(INDISTINCT VOICES WHISPERING)
Telegram Channel and Instagram Page .:: @bollbolljan_com ::.