"You tied her up? I can't believe it! How long?"
"I don't know. No, maybe... It was maybe three days. Three... Four days. Fuck! I don't know!"
"Oh... I've heard some cruel shit in my day, but this is some pretty fucked up shit, Ross."
"I... I thought you were a normal guy."
"I am a normal guy."
There is actually not a single, solitary normal guy throughout the entirety of Spun. Just addicts, meth cooks, suppliers and various other sundry weirdos. It's a whacked out dark comedy of sorts, but it's depressing as all hell and, next to Requiem for a Dream, the film that made absolutely certain that I never tried drugs.