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[Vaughan is being tattooed
: It's too clean. Tattooist
: Medical tattoos are supposed to be clean. Vaughan
: But this is not a medical tattoo. It's a prophetic tattoo. Prophecy is ragged and dirty... so make it ragged and dirty.
: The car crash is a fertilizing rather than a destructive event.
: I've always wanted to drive a crashed car. James Ballard
: You could get your wish at any moment. Vaughan
: No, I mean a crashed car with a history. Camus' Facel Vega, Nathaniel West's station wagon, Grace Kelly's Rover 3500. Just fix it enough to get it rolling. Don't clean it, don't touch anything else.
: Do you see Kennedy's assassination as a special kind of car crash? Vaughan
: The case could be made.
: Seagrave? You couldn't wait for me? You did the Jayne Mansfield crash without me? And the dog... the dog is beautiful!
: [talking into microphone as he walks around the car
] Don't worry. That guy's gotta see us. Don't worry. That guy's gotta see us... These were the confident last words of the brilliant, young Hollywood star James Dean as he piloted his Porsche 550 Spyder race car toward a date with death along a lonely stretch of California two-lane blacktop Route 466... Don't worry that guy's gotta see us. The year... 1955. The day... September 30. The time... Now. The first star of our show is Little Bastard. James Dean's racing Porsche. He named it after himself and had his racing number - 130 - painted on it.
: [speaking into microphone
] I myself shall play the role of Dean's racing mechanic Rolf Voudrich, sent over from the Porsche factory in Zuffenhausen, Germany. Now, this mechanic was himself fated to die in a car crash in Germany 26 years later.
: Spit out your gum. I don't want it going up my urethra. Airport Hooker
: Yes, Daddy