In his last night on Earth, which is a Friday, but several hours prior to sundown at the beginning of Shabbos, 78-year-old Walter Sobchak finds himself at one of the seediest bars in Pismo Beach. He’s in the neighborhood to have a drink on the way to return a Pomeranian to his ex-wife, Cynthia, and her new husband. He can hear the dog yapping from his truck in the parking lot.
As Walter enjoys his beer, he’s increasingly irritated by the anti-American ravings of a group of college students slumming in the bar as they rant against Bush-era foreign policy, Israeli aggression and myriad other failings of American imperialism and oppression of the rest of the world. Walter engages himself in the conversation when the students are unable to recall the dates and key battles in the Vietnam War and quickly builds to a towering rage despite repeated attempts to intervene by the bar staff. The students also refuse to back down, not realizing that most of the other patrons, aside from Walter, are Hell’s Angels, many of them veterans of the selfsame wars being criticized.
The authorities are never able to determine what started the brawl - most of the participants agree a beer bottle was thrown, but the thrower and target are subject to much debate - but within minutes, all the patrons have joined the fray. Nearly all the chairs and stools in the bar are uprooted, as are half the tables, most of the windows are smashed, and after the bar staff flees in terror, the bar is set on fire. Injuries in the melee include broken teeth, broken arms, fingers and shoulders, numerous concussions, a dozen flattened noses, stab and bite wounds, several scratched tattoos and a hairline fracture to one pelvis. Almost every eye is blackened by a punch.
Walter himself delivers more than his share of these injuries. With his final punch, a roundhouse right hand, he obliterates most of one students’ memories of the past two weeks, which will force the young man (upon completion of mandanted community service) to retake Intro to Polynesian Literature, a course he despises.
After the boy falls, Walter draws himself up to his full height, and although the boy cannot hear him in his near-comatose state, Walter bellows “AND YOU SHOULD THANK GOD YOU LIVE IN THIS COUNTRY WHERE YOU HAVE CONSTITUTIONALLY PROTECTED FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION, YOU THANKLESS FUCK!”
Almost immediately Walter feels a tightness in his chest and recognizes he is having a massive heart attack. He takes two steps toward the door before deciding that, as he cannot make it to his truck anyway, he will fall where he stands. He dies before he hits the floor, a smile mixed with a snarl on his lips.
A few of Walter’s bowling league friends come to the funeral; some stay away because he scared them; others show up because they’re scared he would be pissed off if they didn’t come. Jesus attends on work release, but is rearrested during the proceedings after making obscene gestures with his yarmulke.
The Pomeranian barks throughout the funeral.
