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The joyrider? Yeah. The ghost that baited cops doing 130 on 85. Headlights off, brake lights disconnected. He drove 'em around in circles on Spaghetti Junction. Left 'em in the dust every time. That was our boy there. Wasn't that, like, 10 years ago? Yeah. Well, like I said, that was our boy. He's been boosting cars since he was old enough to see over the dash. He stole my Mercedes. Had a lot of merch in it. I watched him do it, too. I didn't stop him, though, 'cause I was just blinded by the balls on that kid. 'Course he didn't know who I was, or the worth of the junk in the trunk once he dumped it, but once I tracked him down, I made sure to tell him who I was, what I was capable of, and how much he owed me. And since he's been paying me back, he's also shown me what he's capable of. Wow. I just drew a whole goddamn map in chalk while we've been standing here squawking. That's pretty fucking impressive, right? Shop, let's talk it. Baby, you with us?
Baby Driver