Dead Awake (2001) - full transcript

An insomniac wanders the streets at night and ends up at a local deli where life's losers appear to end up, including a nice, although slightly lost young woman and a slightly deranged, apparently homeless man, and a untalkative, dysfunctional cop hangout. On one of the late night forays, the insomniac witnesses a murder. When he tries to report, there is no sign of the murder, but the cops become convinced he is the killer. But wait, that is not the weird part. It seems that the insomniac has a girl friend, who doesn't have a clue that he gets up at night and wanders the city, and a personal assistant, who knows all about his exploits. But it only gets weirder from there as the cops uncover that the murdered man is connected to the man's girl friend.

Hey, how long have you been up?

About ten months.

This morning I wanted
to give you

an update on important
recent development.

All that yammering
from Green Peace
about oil tankers.

They wanted a double hull,

they got it.

But not in oil tankers.

In our new secure seal
adult under-garments.

And our upcoming acquisition

of Gerianet'’s 200 nationwide
Managed Care Facilities



gives Criterion Dynamics
a pretty solid marketing base.

And my wife'’s father
is living proof

these babies work
like a charm, uh?

Once again, Desmond,
great work.

Not that I'’d expect
anything less from you.

And now, I got a plane
to catch.

It'’s over.

Oh, yeah, yeah,
one more thing.

That miracle synthetic clay

that Tormey talked
us into developing.

We'’re stuck with
$8,000,000 of it.

Stuck with it?

Well, it'’s too brittle
to use as a putty.

Too pliable for wall material.



I'’m praying that by the time
I get back from Geneva,

that someone in this room will
figure out what to do with it.

Crust.

What?

Just add a little dye to it

and use it as crust
in our new frozen pizza.

You know the one
with no real cheese.

But with all the tang and zest
of real cheese.

Exactly.

If we can fake the cheese,
we can fake the dough.

Right?

Synthetic pizza dough.

Brilliance.
Pure brilliance.

I'’m Desmond Caine.

And things should have been
so simple.

Well, things are never
so simple.

One minute you are
on top of the world.

And the next--

Anyway, I'’m getting
ahead of myself.

Desmond Caine?

Lena Savage.
Your attorney.

Allan Gruber is my attorney.

Allan doesn'’t do murders.

He referred you to me.
I'’m his cousin.

And you do murders?

Thou Shall Not Stalk,
The Paula Gurowitz story.

Susan Lucci plays me

Hi, Lena.

Horace.
Gary.

Desmond Cane, this is

Assistant State'’s
Attorney Ramirez

Have a seat, please.

Mr. Cane, we would like you
to go over your--

Uh, not so fast, guys.

Mr. Caine has not
retained me yet.

Not this shit again.

So how about it, Desmond?

You want me
as your legal council or not?

Fine.

Why not?

All right,

then sign this.

Option agreement.
Option for what?

The rights to your story.

Des, it'’s 6:15.
I'’m leaving.

Are you staying?

Yeah, for a little while.

Should I stick around
so you don'’t...

Go on, I'’ll be fine.

Good night.

Thank you.

Excuse me, Miss.

Uh, I don'’t mean to bother you,

but I dropped my case
on the tracks.

Uh, butterfingers, you know?

You think you can help me out?

You know, I have no way of--

Sure.

I really appreciate this,
you know?

Aah!

Could I have a pen, please?

Just so you know,
I'’m taping this.

Oh, so are we.

Questions, gentlemen?

Can I talk to you
for a second?

Sure.

I wanted to talk to you
at the memorial service.

Didn'’t seem like quite
the right time.

You and Alma were good friends?

Mm-hmm.

She used to date my brother.

The med student?Yeah.

But I think she had
a crush on you.

She talked about you a lot.

Anyway, I hope this doesn'’t
seem too ghoulish,

but since the accident--

Well, everybody in this place
is gonna want her job.

Me included.

But I knew Alma pretty well
and it would probably take me
less acclimation time--

Kimberly.

Kick. Everybody
calls me Kick.

Kick.

What exactly did Alma
tell you about me?

Just to give you a little kick.

So then you know?

Yes, she told me.

Who else did she tell?

Not a soul.

I'’m the only one.

Well,

I guess I don'’t
have any choice.

Welcome aboard.

So what does your doctor say?

I mean, do you sleep all day
because you have insomnia?

Or do you have insomnia
because you sleep all day?

Well, you know, I don'’t think
it'’s a doctor kind of thing.

The guy I probably need to speak
to is sitting on a mountaintop

somewhere in Tibet
or in a cave in Mexico,

all whacked out on peyote
or mushrooms.

Desmond, you'’re babbling.

We'’re all all in our own little
Tower of Babble, now aren'’t we?

Am I suppose
to understand this?

It'’s probably just a phase.

I'’ll be fine.

Hold the elevator!

I got it.

You pressed close.Oh, shit.

Oh, well, I guess he'’ll
just catch the next one.

I should'’ve known, you bitch.

Lousy, lying, little bitch.

Honest mistake.
She just pressed
the wrong button.

Button, my ass.
It'’s my car I'm talking about.

That'’s it, look away
like it wasn'’t you

parking next
to me every day.

Like something else
could'’ve dented my door.

Feel good putting one over
on a cripple?

Someday, you'’re gonna need
that parking spot for real.

And I'’ll be there, Missy.
Right beside you.

Laughing my shriveled
little head off!

Remember that, Missy!

What the hell was that about?

I don'’t know.

He thinks I dented
his car or something.

Right now, I'’m concerned
about you.

Shouldn'’t you be trying
to get some help or something?

I'’m working out it.
Just please don'’t tell anyone.

Like they'’d believe me.

I didn'’t believe Alma
when she told me.

But at the Antarctic Landfill
presentation,

I was watching you.

You didn'’t blink
for an hour and a half!

Look, don'’t worry,
My lips are sealed.

I wanted this job
way too badly.

I'’m not gonna blow it
by coming off

as some nut-case to McCoy.

You want to be the crazy one?
Knock yourself out.

And your girlfriend
has no idea?

Chaney?

She'’s a commercial
real estate machine.

Constant motion
from morning till night.

Lease that office.
Do this closing.

Hustle the next listing.

When her head hits the pillow,

she'’s gone.

She might as well be dead.

You know a normal person

would just watch TV
or read a book.

I wouldn'’t know.

And every night you just take
that same walk?

Schiller to Astor
to Division to State.

Hmm, creature of habit, huh?

Yeah, all us creatures
with the whole world
to ourselves.

It'’s not so bad, really.

You go the same way
every night.

See the same people.
You make friends.

Howdy, Chief.

Hey, Sweetcheeks.

Baby, do you wanna help
put me through law school, eh?

Oh, not tonight, thank you.

Oh, you sure?
You gonna like what
I got for you, baby.

How'’s it going?

Great.

Seen any action tonight?

Fuck you.

Save the jokes, white man.

He don'’t have
a very highly-evolved

sense of humor.

But it'’s no lie,
he'’s not touched

his own gun in four years.

What the hell
do you want from me?

Nothing, Babe.
Which is about twice
what you got to offer.

You watch your mouth.

No.

You watch your mouth,
you spineless fuck!

Hiding your flat ass in here
every goddamn night,

cause you'’re too chickenshit
to face the crap

they think they'’re paying
you to deal with.

Everybody knows you don'’t
have the balls

to write a parking ticket, Babe.

All you'’re good at
is sitting at that counter

and leaning on that blind woman.

I told you
I am not totally blind.

I know, W.D.

You'’re not totally blind.

You'’re just legally blind.

Hey, white man.
Come here.

I got somethin'’
for you.

So, you still seein'’
that same up-scale broad?

The same one.

How about
an engagement ring?

You know, she ain'’t
gonna give it away forever,

any woman that'’s
worth her salt.

She'’s checkin'
her Bluebook value
like clockwork,

and if you
don'’t give her
somethin'’ in trade,

she'’ll go
somewhere else
to get it.

Where'’d you
get this?

Fell from the fuckin'’ sky.

Chicken Little,
he scooped it up.

He sold it
to Ducky Lucky,

who got mugged
comin'’ out of an OTB
by a whore.

Her pimp sold it to me.
Do you want it?

There'’s dried blood on it.

Yeah. I'’ve seen 'em

with whole fuckin'’
finger'’s in 'em.

Five-letter word
for an Asian snake.

Krait.

K-R-A-I-T.

Yard and a half.

It'’s worth
ten times that.

I'’m sorry. You oughta
try somebody else.

Who, for instance?

Deputy Fuckin'’ Fife
up there?

Maybe Pokey the cook, huh?

Yeah. The man'’s livin'
a fairy tale from hell.

He'’s so goddamn ugly,
he can'’t take his face
out in the light of day.

Skitters home,
skitters to work.

Swear to God,
if he had somebody
to give this to,

I'’d lay it on him
for free.

You sure?

So, how you been,
white man?

How'’s the job?

The same.
You know. Okay.

"Okay"?

It'’s a fucking cakewalk.

You sleepwalk all day
for a six-figure paycheck.

My man, you'’re
a regular fuckin'’
presidential candidate.

Aah! Uhh! Ohh!

Get off! Aah!Jesus Christ!

Aah! Uhh!

Go, Caesar!

Unhh!

Christ sakes, Babe,
shoot the fuckin'’ dog!

You shoot him.

Yeah, eat his fuckin'’
heart out!

Oh, what genius

gave a blind broad
a gun?

Would somebody
please do something?!

Aaahh!

Shoot it!

Whack the dog,
white man.

Oh, man.
Are you okay?

You killed
my dog, man.

He'’s a cop,
if you want to have
me arrested.

No! Motherfucker.

You'’re gonna have to
deal with me.

Come on, Caesar.

I'’ll take you home
to your brother.

And don'’t come back!

Damn dogs.
I hate '’em.

Only reason
why I still live

in that shitbox
Fantastica.

No animals.

Fantastica?

Well.

Thatshould cut
into your social life.

When I get
a social life, Skay,

you'’ll be
the last to know.

Mmhh.

Go home, white man.

You should be laying
beside your...upscale lady.

You don'’t belong
here with us.

Not yet.

Mmhh...

Hi.

Hi.

How'’d you sleep?

Same as always.

Good.

I have a question.

You'’ve got a question.

Hypothetically...
if I'’m convicted

and, uh, executed,

doesn'’t that make
for a better sell?

I mean, you might
be able to get
Tom Cruise.

Tom Cruise? Desmond,
you want Tom Cruise,

you'’d better go kill
someone big,

not some Kraut
in a wheelchair.

Udo was in a wheelchair?

So, what if I told you
that I shot a dog
last night?

That you wouldn'’t
have these dreams

if you exercised
more often.

What if it
really happened?

Then I guess
you wouldn'’t be

Desmond Caine,
now, would you?

Who would I be?

No one normal.

Normal people
don'’t shoot dogs,

and we are
about as normal
as they come.

Hey, Des.
What'’s up?

Cigarettes.

Your South American
market plan?

There'’s a meeting at 11.
It'’s your baby. If you
want to be there.

Um...yeah.

But, uh,
I'’m leaving at
10:00.

Oh. Where you goin'’?

Geneva.

McCoy just needs my help
for a few days.

It'’s good to be needed.

I hope
you can turn that...

need...

into a big, fat raise.

Me, too.

State your name
and address, please.

Desmond Caine.

2510 West Schiller Street,
Chicago.

Where were you between
5 in the afternoon yesterday

and 6 this morning?

I worked until 6:30.

Can anyone vouch for you?

Kick Birmingham.

Hey, Dracula.
How was your night?

I...shot a dog.

Oh, my God.

You own a gun?

It was a cop'’s gun.

What were you doing
with a cop'’s gun?

I was at
the Snow White Diner.

This guy came in.
He had a pit bull
all over him.

There was a cop there
who froze,

so I grabbed his gun
and shot a dog.

What time was this?

Usual time.

3:30? Usual walk?

Usual everything.

Well, what
happened then?

Then I went home.

Usual home,
usual girlfriend.

You must be
a big hero
at the diner.

And I haven'’t
even told them

about the fake
pizza dough.

You know...

...you don'’t
look so good.

Maybe you should
get to your desk,
get some rest.

Hmm?

Where'’d you go
after work?

I walked home.
It took ten minutes.

I don'’t think
that'’s enough time
to kill anyone.

How long does it take?

Can he talk to me
like this?

Shh! He'’s fine.

So you got home
at...

6:45. Then Chaney and I

went to dinner
and a movie. And
we'’re home at 11.

And then?

She went to sleep.

And you?

I laid down,
just thinking.

So I got up.

Yeah?

Desmond?
It'’s Kick.

What'’s wrong?

Well, nothing.

Nothing? It'’s
one in the morning.

Yeah, I know.
I was dozing off,

and I heard
something on the radio

about a fire
on Division Street.

I wanted to make sure
you were okay.

I'’m fine.

Go to sleep.

Did I wake Chaney?

No. I'’m
in the kitchen.

The ringer'’s off
in the bedroom.

Maybe you shouldn'’t
go out tonight.

I'’ll be fine.

Will you call me
when you get back?

I'’ll see you
in the morning.
Good night.

Hey, baby.

This car
is so cold.

You got something hot
for me to sit on, maybe?

I think
I'’ll pass.

Hey, don'’t
be giving me

no fucking
attitude, eh?

I just have to make
a livin'’ here.

So either I be laid
or I be laid off, baby.

But don'’t you talk to me
like you my father, eh?

Yes, girl,
if your father

paid you every time
he fucked you,

you wouldn'’t have to
be working now.

Verdi opera.
Eight letters.

Starts
with an "A."

Adelaide.

A-D-E-L-A-I-D-E.

Ahh.

Hey, Babe.

What?

You know any
of those midget cops?

Somebody
tell this asshole

there'’s no such thing
as midget cops.

How '’bout you, white man?
You ever seen a midget cop?

'’Course he hasn't.
Not in uniform.

They'’re undercover.

Doin'’ what?

Well, when the circus
comes to town...

is when the midget cops
go to work, huh?

Is there really
that much crime
in the circus?

Uh-huh.
Child prostitution.

Pedophilia.

Oh, Jesus, Skay.

Well, how do you
think circuses make
all their money?

Huh? From the beginning
of time,

kids have been
runnin'’ off
to join the circus.

And when they get there,
what happens?
They give '’em a shovel

and point '’em
at the elephant cage.

Now, after
a couple of days

of shoveling tons
of elephant dung,

these kids
get real miserable.

That'’s when
the ringmaster
steps in.

Hey, little fella...

you want a new job?

Well, tonight,
after the show,

this fellow'’s
gonna come around,
and...

you be real nice
to him...

and that shovel'’s
history.

That'’s why we need
midget cops...

bust these perverts
before they leave town

with all our kids.

You'’re sick.

Oh, not me, Babe.
Society.

Check out
your fairy tales.

You think the witch
wanted Hansel and Gretel
so she could cook '’em

or Rumpelstiltskin
wanted that kid

'’cause he didn't like
changin'’ diapers?

Or what about
the Pied Piper, huh?

Pied Piper leaves town
with every blond-haired,
blue-eyed kid in Germany,

and nobody ever asked,
"Where'’d they go?

What did they do
when they got there?"

And what the fuck
is a pied piper, anyway?

Well, I'’ll tell you!

He'’s a chicken hawk.

Searches out
hungry little kids.

Feeds them meat pies.

And steps on the pipe.

There are
no midget cops.

There are, too.

One in the next
bed to me when
I was in the hospital

when my skull
got crushed.

When was that?

18 years ago.

I was a sleeve strapper
at the local loony bin,

and, uh...

one day I was
out in the garden,

and a "guest"
at the institution

picked up this rock
the size of a football.

Started wailin'’
on the back
of my skull.

And when she was through,
there wasn'’t much
of a skull back there.

It was mostly
Rice Krispies.

They, uh...

Uh, after a while,
they sorta put it
back together.

Or most of it.

Most of it?

Mmm.

You ever touch a man'’s brain
right through his skull?

No.

I do every day.

Gimme your hand.

What for?

Gimme your hand,
white man.

No, really, I--

It'’s not like leprosy.

You'’re not gonna
catch anything.

It'’s...a little hole.

Ahh...

Kinda cool, isn'’t it?

Sorta like
a woman'’s breast.

Now, there'’s somethin'
you can tell your
grandkids about.

So, you went
for a little walk

at, uh...
one in the morning.

You didn'’t go see
some girlfriend
on the side,

nothin'’ like that?

I was alone.

Did anybody see you
leave your building?

I don'’t know.

Mmhh...

Hey.

How long
have you been up?

About ten months.

What would you say
if I told you

I saw somebody
get murdered?

I'’d say you're
hallucinating

from endorphin
withdrawal.

Ah. I see.

So I guess
it'’s more of that...

new-age bullshit,
eh, Chaney?

I guess the reason
I'’m all screwed up

is that I don'’t spend
every waking minute
strapped to a treadmill.

Oh, so I'’m screwed up
because my body'’s
triglyceride-free?

I'’ll tell you what.
Let me put it
into some terms

that perhaps
you might be able
to relate to.

I was walking down Astor...

on my way home
like I do every night
after you'’ve gone to sleep.

You see, I just
can'’t help myself.

I get very excited
knowing

that I'’m on one of those
heart-pumping power walks.

Only tonight, I was
a little extra-sweaty

because I saw
some poor bastard
get murdered

right in front of me!

So, when,
may I ask,
do you sleep?

During the day.

When I'’m at work.

Oh, interesting perk.
Does McCoy tuck you in?

He doesn'’t know
anything about it...

because I can sleep
with my eyes open.

Sorry.

Medical science
doesn'’t even have
a name for it.

Well, gee, I can'’t
imagine why.

I knew you
wouldn'’t believe me.

Oh, honey,

you don'’t want me
to believe you.

This is a cry for help.

Maybe it is!

I don'’t know!

Okay?

I just saw
somebody get murdered.

Now, listen to me.

We are normal people.

Okay? We lead
normal lives.

We don'’t sleep
with our eyes open,

and we don'’t walk
the streets all night.

Is that normal?

That'’s a dead guy's watch
with my blood smeared on it.

That I got...

...from this normal
little cut.

It happened during
a normal little struggle.

But I'’m not surprised
that you didn'’t notice.

I thought it was
from shaving.

With what?

A treadmill?

Okay.

What happened?

Help!

Help me!

They'’re trying to kill me.

Please, don'’t let them
kill me.

Please.

Ah!

Somebody help.

Did anybody else see this?

Nobody.

That'’s it. I'm calling 911.

No, no, no, no.

Why not?

You'’ve got a dead man's watch.

Your skin could be
under his nails.

Maybe your blood
is on his clothes.

What are you saying?

Desmond, if I almost
didn'’t believe you,
why would the police?

You'’ve got to call
the police.

I don'’t know.

Come on, what if
he had a family?

Little kids waiting
for daddy to come home, huh?

I mean, what if he was in line
to donate a kidney

and there'’s some young mother
on dialysis who will
never get it

because you were too afraid
to call the police?

Well, wouldn'’t the kidneys
have gone bad by now?

It was just an example.

Look, you saw someone killed.

You'’ve got to tell the police.

Yeah. Yeah,
try attaining five.

Right, bye.

Mr. Caine?

Yes?

Detective Gary Belladonna.
Homicide.

Oh, right. Great.

Please, come on in.

Well, you know,
I was thinking--

You said this murder
took place in the neighborhood?

Just two blocks away,
on Astor.

Let'’s check it out.

Great.

So this is the building.

Yup.

And that'’s the window?

This one down here.

You sure?

Yeah. They'’ve obviously
replaced the glass.

Give me a second.

I got 2320.

Okay.

Excuse me, why do you--

So this is the window,
except they replaced the glass,

took down the curtains,

and got rid of the furniture.

Any chance
this isn'’t the street?

None. I'’ve lived here
the last four and a half years.

Before then?

San Francisco.

Got many friends?

Not really. I met Chaney
two weeks after I moved here.

We mostly keep to ourselves.

And you were the only one
on the street?

I tried to talk
to one cop.

Open up.

I just saw somebody get killed.

They just killed him
right in front of me.
Open the door.

You want to join him?

Get the fuck out of here.

Oh, don'’t stop.

Baby, don'’t stop.

Having sex in a squad car
with a hooker.

Did you get his name?

The cop or the hooker?

So this was a male prostitute?

Dressed like a woman,
but it was a guy. Trust me.

No offense, Des,
but you haven'’t done a whole
hell of a lot to earn my trust.

Did you get his badge number?

No.

You see any money
change hands?No.

Then how do you know
this person was a hooker?

Look, just because a cop
doesn'’t pay for a cup of coffee

doesn'’t mean it's not
a cup of coffee.

I pay for my coffee.

Starbucks.

Buck forty-seven and
a twenty-eight cent tip.

And I know that'’s not
a hell of a lot
to a high roller like you,

but what did you do?
Start some bullshit
dot-com thing

and then pocket a few mil
when it went public?

I went public
when I entered
the police academy,

and right now,
I'’m trading for a big 64-5,

plus a pension that I doubt
could cover your car insurance.

I have a job.

This ought to be good.

Criterion Dynamics.

Doing what?

Market manifest facilitator.

Wow, no shit.

You know, that'’s what
I always wanted to be
when I was a kid.

Let me see the watch.

I'’ll check the blood
and the serial number.

Great.

So when can I get
a copy of the report?

You want a copy of the report?

Yes. Just something with
your name and badge number,

and perhaps the serial number
for the watch.

Oh, so now we'’re suddenly
interested in badge numbers.

Well, for your information,
I don'’t shake down Starbucks,

I don'’t get head
from shim hookers,

and I don'’t steal evidence.

But if it'’ll make you
feel any better,

I'’ll walk you back
to stately Wayne manor
and get you a receipt.

Great.

Now, when can we go
check out the apartment?

When can we check out--

When you graduate
from police academy,

move your wife and two kids
back in with your mother
in the house you grew up in

and try to make
a life for yourself on 64-5,

then we can check out
the apartment.

Shit.

Your tape player'’s
making mine feedback
or something.

Why don'’t you turn it off?
I'’ll dub my tape for you.

Yeah, nice try.
Turn yours off.

I don'’t see why I should
be the one to turn--

I'’ll tell you why.
Because we'’re trying to make
a case for first-degree murder.

You'’re trying to make
some grossly inaccurate,

three-hankie excuse to sell
floor wax and fucking tampons.

Horace.

So tell me,

are you out of
your ever-loving
gourd or what?

You see a guy get greased,
you run to the cops,

and the only thing
standing between
you and a murder rap

is the Snow White alibi club.

Mr. Darrow,

who would you like to be
a witness first?

Ms. Legally Blind?

Maybe the phantom toad?

And let'’s not forget the guy

who never looks
anyone in the face.

Not to mention every jury'’s
favorite character witness,

Ms. "What the fuck am I?"

Or perhaps moi.

My mother and father

gave me electroshock therapy,

and all I ever got
was this lousy t-shirt.

I hate to break it to you,
white man,

but the closest you'’ve got
to credibility in
this shithole

may be man'’s best friend.

Desmond, wake up.

When did you get back?

About half an hour ago.

Well?

The cop didn'’t believe me.

Are you serious?

Mr. Caine?

Who are you?

I'’m the XEP.

What is that?

Freelance communications
processor.

Oh, you mean you'’re a temp.

My agency no longer uses
that terminology.

Mr. Caine, there'’s a gentleman
here to see you.

He says
he'’s a police detective.

Well, I always wondered what
a market manifest facilitator'’s
office looked like.

Uh, you can speak
in front of my my associate.

This is Kimberly Birmingham.

Kick.

You a lawyer?

No, I'’m a sector
development analyst.

That'’s a coincidence.It is?

Yeah. Back in the old country,
in San Gimignano,

my great-grandfather
was the village sector
development analyst.

It was a family tradition.
Went back to the Middle Ages.

So we got nothing on
the blood work yet.

As far as the watch goes,

I had to call Switzerland
right away

before the watch company
knocked off for the day,

since there'’s
an eight-hour difference.

Seven.

Huh?

With daylight savings time,
the difference is seven.

I know because I spent
15 months in Zurich.

Is that a fact?

Yeah.

Excuse me.

Yeah, I got 7 and 15.

Right. Bye.

Anyway, the watch'’s warranty
is registered to a guy named
Udo Magik.

He lives at Lakepoint Tower.

So then, he'’s the victim?

Good chance.

His wife reported him missing
at 6:00 last night.

He never came home.

Never showed up for work
this morning.

Any idea who the killer is?

Yeah.

You.

What'’s that supposed to mean?

See, Magik filled out
the warranty card
and sent it in,

but according to
the jeweler'’s records,

Magik was not the one
who bought the watch.

So? Maybe it was a gift.
Big deal.

Big deal for your girlfriend.

She purchased the watch
six months ago.

Chaney?

That'’s impossible.

It'’s what you'd like
to believe.

No guy wants to buy into
his girlfriend

not only being poked
by somebody else,

but liking it so much,
she actually buys the guy
a Rolex.

Must have shocked the shit
out of you.

Which is probably
why you killed him.

Slow down.

Okay, Sherlock.

I mean,
this is just ridiculous.

Oh, yeah?

Enlighten us,
Ms. Birmingham.

Ever buy an expensive gift
for a guy who was a bust
in the sack?

I'’m hardly the one
to answer that.

Wait a minute.

Did you check the apartment?

Des, you got
one tight set of shorts
for that apartment, don'’t you?

Well, I'’m going
to help you out.

I'’m going to take you down
to the precinct.

If you'’re lucky, they'll have
a Better Homes & Gardens
to thumb through,

and you can see
a whole shitload of apartments.

Or when you call your lawyer
to meet you down there,

tell him to bring
the latest issue
of Metropolitan Home.

Shall we?

How'’d you kill him?

Back off, Gary.

Why? You'’re not going
to put that in the movie.
I may as well ask it.

I didn'’t kill him.

So you got home at--

6:45, then Chaney and I
went to dinner and a movie.

We were home at 11.

And then?

She went to sleep.

And you?

I laid down,
just thinking.

So I got up.

What time?

1:17.

Exactly?

Yes.

1:17.

Dial that phone,
I'’ll have you fired.

And then what did you do?

I went for a walk.

She see you go?She was asleep.

Your doorman see you go?

He was asleep.

Well, what can we
do for him, Morris?

I'’ll have to
make sure on this,

but if you plead guilty
to murder one,

I can get you off with life.

He'’ll be right out.

Excuse me.

It'’s not as bad as it sounds.

You could be entitled
to conjugal visits in five.

You could be out in twenty.

No confessions.
Do not confess to anything.

I didn'’t do anything.

Horace, could you
come here, please?

Lena, give us a sec,
would you?

Mm-hm.

Excuse us.

You'’re lucky
you were born late.

Vietnam vets, the scabs,

that'’s all they are.

Half a million scabs
falling off the ugliest,

most festered sore
Uncle Sam ever gouged

on our national consciousness.

I hear it got real hot
over there,

even at midnight.

90 degrees.

100% humidity.

Sweat just...

Running down your body,

all night long.

You like it hot, white guy?

Desmond? You all right?

Sorry it took so long.

How long have you been gone?

Half an hour.

You'’re sweating like a pig.

What were you,
in a trance?

Something like that.

Well, Des,

recognize something like this?

A rat was nibbling on it
in your alley.

Any idea where we might find
the rest of him?

The rest of who?

We'’re assuming it's Udo,

but we'’ll find out
when his wife gets here.

Is that him?

Is that the man
who killed my husband?

I didn'’t kill anyone.

I was just walking down Astor--

Shut up, Des.

Mrs. Magik.

Could this be
your husband'’s foot?

Oh, my God.

Try to focus.

Yes, it definitely
could be Udo'’s.

Did you bring the shoe?

Okay.

Let'’s see if it fits.

Oh, great.

First the O.J. thing,
now this.

Shouldn'’t you be trying
to do that with a sock?

Do not give them
your sock, okay?

This means nothing
without the DNA.

We'’re just
going ballpark here.

Perfect fit.

Let me see that.

I sold shoes
all through college.

What size is this?

Ten.

Look at where the toe is.

This is a nine,
nine and a half max.

Nice try, Prince Charming.

It doesn'’t matter.
We'’re not charging him now.

You'’re free to go.
Just don'’t take any
extended vacations.

Can I bounce a title
off you?

The Cinderella Murder?

How did you know?

Kick Birmingham.

Where have you been?

You know, I really hate
that you don'’t have
a cell phone.

Really?

His wife.

What was she like?

Well, you better get
your butt down here, fast.

McCoy called from Geneva.

He said he needed
to talk to you

about a conversation you had
yesterday with Randy.

Thought he wasn'’t happy.

Can you blame him?

His father-in-law owns 38%
of the stock in this place.

If his marriage crashes,
his career goes with it.

And in his mind, you probably
know enough to destroy both.

Which is exactly why
I'’ve spent all day

backing up your files
onto discs.

Let'’s just say
I'’m a great believer
in insurance policies.

I just need you to check
and make sure I didn'’t
miss anything.

And hurry.
If he'’s as nervous
as he sounded,

he could have you
locked out of here

before he gets back tomorrow.

Hi.

Hi.

Okay, these are
the only copies.

So if McCoy'’s affair
costs you your job,

it'’s also going to cost him
$8 billion in business plans.

Well, this looks thorough.

I'’m going to check a few,
but it looks okay.

Well, I'’m out of here.

You want to meet me
for a drink?

I can'’t.
I have to look at these,

and then go meet Chaney.

Give me a call later,
then.

I had your calls
forwarded here,
just in case.

Thanks.

I owe you.

No, you don'’t.

Kick Birmingham'’s office.

Chaney?

Mr. Caine?

Yeah?

I want to help you.

Who'’s calling?

I know you didn'’t
kill Magik.

Who is this?

It wasn'’t supposed
to happen like this.

They screwed me and Howard,

and now they'’re going
to screw you.

Howard who?

Who the hell is this?

I'’ll be out in front
in ten minutes.

I'’ll have
a Bloomingdale bag.

Be there.

I'’m your last chance
to get out of this alive.

Hold on, wait a minute.

Crazy motherfucker!

Why'’d you have to
kill yourself on my time?

No, I wasn'’t trying to--

Grab the rope.

Oh, my God.

Kick in the window.

Kick in the goddamn window.

I don'’t want to die.
I just got divorced.

Kick it in.

In the middle.

Jesus. Two feet.
Use two feet.

Pull me back.

That'’s it. I've got him.

That'’s it. I've got you.

You okay?
Yeah.

Yo!

Wait, wait.

Take it easy,
take it easy.

I ought to fucking kill you,
you motherfucker.

Shit.

Hey, hey!

Get off me.

Did you see what he did?

You want my watch, too,
you son of a bitch?

Attention all units.

Secure all exits at
Criterion Dynamic building.

Subject is a murder suspect.

It appears to be
a suicide attempt.

I repeat, secure all exits
at Criterion Dynamic
building.

Subject in question
is blond, six foot
Caucasian.

Male, 30-35 years old,

named Desmond Caine.

Approach with caution.

He could be
armed and dangerous.

Enjoy your work-out.

You paged me?Ah, yes, I did.

You got a call.
You can use the white phone.

Okay, thanks.

Chaney Streeter.

It'’s me.

Listen, we have to talk.

How soon can you
get out of there?

My massage
isn'’t for 45 minutes.

Why don'’t you come
and meet me here?

I can'’t.

Desmond, a half hour
on the treadmill

isn'’t going to kill you.

No, but getting there might.

And they may be watching you.

Oh? And who might that be?

Police.

I'’m wanted for the murder
of Udo Magik.

Udo'’s dead?

Listen to me.

Go out the fire exit
of the parking garage

and cut through
the apparel center.

Get yourself over
to the Cinema Polska
on Milwaukee Avenue.

I'’ll be inside.
We can talk there.

I'’m only going to wait
till 7:00.

Chaney, this may be
your last chance to see me.

Come alone.

Excuse me.

Where did you find this place?

We used it to market test
rat traps.

Police paid me
a little visit.

They were going
to check on that watch.

It belonged to Udo.
Guess where he got it?

He worked in
the real estate department
at Midcity Trust

and he listed
a building with me.

I made a big commission,
so I bought it for him
as a little gift.

And that'’s all?

Yes, that'’s all.

Desmond, there'’s a pervert
next to me.

He'’ll go away
if you ignore him.

How come you never told me?

I didn'’t think
you'’d be interested.

Well, I am.

So were those people
that have a lot of those
bright, shiny badges.

They think I killed Udo
because I found out you two
were lovers.

Can we please move?

I'’m not hearing
any denial.

You don'’t deserve
a denial.

The whole idea'’s disgusting.

He must have been
the worst dresser
I'’ve ever met.

And I don'’t suppose
they told you
Udo was a paraplegic.

Which still
would have left him
with a fully functional tongue.

Oh, what am I?

Lunch special?

Oh, my God,
he'’s having an orgasm.

All right,
now listen to me.

You got to call
the police station.

Find Detective Belladonna
and explain everything.

Desmond, you'’re way
over-stressed.

Nobody'’s trying
to kill you.

Desmond!

Call Belladonna.

Desmond!

Oh, my--

Good evening.

See you later, Harry.

I'’m, uh, looking for someone.

Hey.

I'’ve got a gun in here.

It'’s Desmond Caine.

I don'’t know any Desmond Caine.

Get the fuck out of here
before I shoot you
through the door.

I'’m the white man
from the diner.

Who?

The guy who shot the dog.

What dog?

The other night,
at the Snow White diner.

The guy came in
with the pit bull on him.

I shot the dog
with Babe'’s gun.

Yeah?

What do you want?

Could you open the door?

Hi.

I'’m getting dressed.
I got to go to work.

I see.

Can I come in?

Yeah, but make it quick.

I told you,
I got to go to work.

Nice.

Yeah. Just like on TV.

You know,
the old Supermanreruns

when he'’d be in a room
and the walls would start
to close in.

Except he'’d always stop them
before they got this close.

Look, I was wondering
if I could stay here tonight.

I'’m sorry.
Let me rephrase that.

If I could stay here
while you'’re at work,

because the police
are after me.

I heard that one
a few times, too.

No, really. They think
I killed someone.

Naturally, you'’re innocent.

Well, I did see
somebody killed,

but they think I did it.

Who knows you'’re here?

Nobody.
Nobody knows I know you.

What'’s the matter?
You ashamed to tell
your friends about me?

I can'’t have the cops in here.

I mean, I didn'’t exactly
pay retail

for that little
home theater experience.

90 bucks, gets 172 channels.

That'’s 52 cents a channel.

When I got married,
we paid 375 bucks

for a TV that only got
7 channels.

That'’s 53 bucks per channel.

Of course,
that was from a store.

Fuck it. I was young.
What did I know?

So where'’s your husband now?

Some town, some bar.

Telling some rum sponge
he didn'’t kill anybody,
either.

Bathroom'’s end of the hall
on your right.

See you at 6:30.

Lock the door.

Man, if puss like that
gets off on crips,

you can shoot me
in the fucking spinal cord
right now.

That'’s a big if, my man.

So, how'’d we do, Sammy?

She wasn'’t screwing Magik.

She hasn'’t seen Magik
for months.

They had one
real estate deal together.

He gave her the listing for
a high-rise owned by his bank.

Midcity Trust.

Yeah. Correct.

So she made a fat commission
and bought him the watch
out of gratitude.

Hang on, she lied
about something.

Hm?

Oh! No, no.
That was before you came in.

I poured a coffee.

She went nuts.

Said you can'’t pour hot liquid
into a Styrofoam cup.

Some fluoro-chloro
mumbo-jumbo about me
fucking with the ozone layer.

That it was her planet too,
and, uh--

I'’ll write this up for you.Thanks.

He didn'’t jump.
He was pushed.

How do you figure?

I looked him up on the net.

I mean, this guy
is corporate America'’s
primo problem-solver.

He gets cornered,
and he thinks his way
out of it.

I didn'’t know,
but Papal Link
was his baby.

Papal what?

Selling corporate sponsorships

of the Pope'’s
Latin American tour.

Remember the shot?

The Pope with a can
of Mountain Dew in his hand?

That was Caine'’s idea?

My Pepsi stock jumped
14 points in 2 weeks.

Desmond Caine is my hero!

14 points.

Allow me.

Corporate superstar
or love-crazed killer?

Who is the real Desmond Caine?

Here to offer a window
into his bizarre world

is Caine'’s attorney
and confidante, Lena Savage.

Miss Savage,
if Caine did not commit

this heinous
murder-dismemberment

of his fiancee'’s
wheelchair-bound lover,

how do you explain
his suicide attempt?

Clearly, my client is
a deeply tortured soul,
mired in self-hatred.

However, I cannot and will not
confirm any allegations

about a secret
homosexual lifestyle

and episodes
of childhood incest.

Please assess for us,
if you will,

your client'’s liability
in the death of building
contractor Joe Katsartis.

Who?

The man crushed under
the scaffold dislodged
during the suicide plunge.

Oh! Well,
as Mr. Caine'’s legal bills

incurred by any murder trial
and subsequent appeals

are years from resolution,

I think it would be
premature of me

to speculate on the prospect
of my fellow creditors
at this time.

A 49-year-old...

Corn starts today
up 40 cents a bushel.

Hey.

Didn'’t know you were
such a farm freak.

White man.

Easy. This guy'’s
fucked up on something.

No, he'’s asleep. He does that.

He sleeps with his eyes open.

Duncan.

Relax.

Relax. I went down
to the Snow White to find you.

We'’re thinking
maybe you didn'’t kill Magik.

Why is that?

We haven'’t
gotten that far yet.

I think I have.
Joe Katsartis.

Him, we know. And we know
he had paint under
his fingernails.

Did you match it against
the paint at 2320 Astor?

We did. It'’s a match.

Before Joe died,
he called me at my office.

He said Udo was trying
to screw him.

What do you think that means?

I don'’t know.

I do.

When I heard
Joe'’s name on the news,
I started thinking.

He had a partner
named Howard Kasparian.

They were building
contractors together.

Udo was the assistant mortgage
loan officer at a bank,

so they must have worked on
some of Udo'’s properties.

Now, who do you think
owns 2320 Astor?

Midcity Trust.
I checked that, too.

Now, let'’s assume Joe
and Howard killed Udo. Why?

Life insurance?

Really? Who the fuck ever put
their contractor down

as a beneficiary
on their life insurance?

Thank you.

Now, maintenance contracts
on these properties
are worth millions.

So they gave Udo a smear?

Many smears.
Udo must have been
trying to screw them.

So they killed him
on one of the bank properties,

so that if there was
any problem,

it would just look like
normal maintenance work.

But why would Joe
confess to you?

My ass was on the line.
I was the logical one
for Joe to call.

Myrek Zienkiewicz.

Excuse me?

The dead guy at Cinema Polska.

Don'’t even mention that place.

You go there?

I did, till a rat
ran across my foot.

Wow.

Anyway.

I'’m still working on that.

So all we have to do
is find Howard Kasparian
and we'’re home free.

Not exactly.

What, exactly?

I just can'’t stop thinking
about that foot!

These guys were contractors.

So?

So, did you look at the foot?

I'’ll tell you what.

I'’m going to Udo's
funeral this afternoon
to check license plates.

If I see Howard there,
I'’ll have him call you.

You can ask him yourself.

Nice work, Dunc.

I'’m going to get you
on Jeopardy.

There'’s a conflict.

What'’s that?

I used to write
the questions.

I'’ll bet you did.

So, you want to stick around?

And do what?

You'’re a smart boy.
Think of something.

I'’m a Bond girl again.

Want to step into
the bedroom?

Is my aggressive behavior
freaking you out?

Well, don'’t get too much
of a swelled head.

I mean, you'’ve seen
the kind of guys
I'’m around every night,

not to mention
the little brain tumor

that sent
my optic nerve packing.

They got most of it.

And, uh...

It'’s enhanced
my sense of touch.

I'’m a philosopher.

I realized I no longer
have to hold out for the guys
in the underwear ads.

I happen to think
I look pretty good
in underwear.

Well, Einstein,
now'’s your chance

to bring a little eyesight
to the blind.

Desmond.

Oh, hey.

I hear I missed
a lot of excitement.

Oh, no. That'’s all
been straightened out.

Doesn'’t surprise me.

What did I tell you
this morning, huh?

This guy ever killed anybody,

he'’d be too clever
to take the rap.

Can I talk to you
for a second?
Yeah.

Excuse us.

What'’s up?

Uh...

Well, I think I know
a little bit more

about you and Randi
than I need to.

You know what I mean?

You ought to see
the videos.

Right.

Anyway, uh...

I was thinking, maybe--

Because Kick told me
you were agitated

on the phone yesterday
when you talked to her, so--

I didn'’t talk to her
yesterday.

You didn'’t?

I'’d like to.

You know,
Kick'’s been bugging Randi

to come over for a three-way
with her girlfriend.

What are you talking about?

Well, rumor has it
she'’s been doing

some married chick
for months.

Kick'’s into women?

Yeah.

But you and I, we'’re okay?

I'’ll tell you what.

Why don'’t you, me and Kick
go over to Randi'’s one night,

shoot some videos,
and we'’ll talk about it?

Where'’s your girlfriend?

She'’s not my girlfriend.

So you tell me,

where'’d she get
the crippled plates?

Excuse me?

Her license plates.

If she'’s screwing
some gimp for '’em,

Tell her I'’ll make her
a better offer.

Desmond.

Thank God this is over with.
We all knew you had nothing--

Where'’s Kick?

She'’s not here. She's taking
a personal day.

Is she at home?I don'’t know.

You should call her.
I'’m sure she'd be glad--

Vicki.

What'’s Kick's
girlfriend'’s name?

Desmond, I really don'’t think
that'’s any of your business.

Vicki.

Is it you?

No, it'’s not me.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Yes, I'’m sure.

Okay. I was with her
one time after work,

but I'’m not her girlfriend.

Who is?

I don'’t know.

All right, let'’s try
an easy one.

Her brother--
where does he live?
The med student.

Well, technically,
he'’s not a med student
anymore.

He got thrown out
of school last year

for selling pharmaceuticals
under the table.

But I don'’t know where he is.Forget it.

Brett Birmingham. Thank you.

Keep the change.

Hi, this is Brad.
No one'’s here right now.

You can leave a message
and I'’ll get back to you later.

Lord, as you accept...

Udo Magik

into the cradle of your bosom...

Belladonna. This is Desmond Caine.

I just saw Udo Magik.
He'’s alive.

Sure he is.

That'’s why I'm at his funeral

staring at a box
with his foot in it.

He can be alive
without a foot.

I just saw him.
He was staring at me

out of an apartment window.

You'’re repeating yourself.
I'’m hanging up now.
Bye-bye.

Sorry.

Lord, as you accept Udo Magik

into the cradle of your bosom,

We ask that you look down upon
those gathered here today...

We'’re in town for the dairy
farmers'’ convention.

Yeah, I got 300 head
up in Minnesota.

Yeah. 300 head. So anyways,

we were just gonna
have a little dinner,

and this guy runs up
and snatches my purse.

Yeah, just grabs it.Just grabs it.

Yeah, just like that.

And I was so stunned
I didn'’t know what to say.

I didn'’t say anything.
I just stood there.

Caine, you okay?

You okay?Udo'’s alive.

I saw him.Right, in a window.

That'’s where
you saw him murdered.

That'’s where you saw him
come back to life.

Do us both a favor. Go home.
Look through your own window.

Find your bed, crawl into it,
and go to sleep.

It'’s too late for this.

What time is it?

9:30. Sergeant says
you been here for hours.

Yeah, that'’s right.
I'’ve been waiting for you.

Kick.

I wasn'’t supposed
to see Udo alive.

Now they have to kill me."They"? So now
there'’s a connection?

Yes. Handicapped plates.

Kick doesn'’t need them,
but she has them.

Why? Because
she'’s driving Udo's car.

So you'’re telling me

that not only was he
doing your girlfriend...

but he was doing
your assistant?

No. Udo'’s wife, Gloria Majik,
is doing my assistant.

I'’d pay to see that.

Listen to me.

Kick had my first assistant,
Alma, killed...

because she wanted
to get her job

so she could watch me
and get inside my head

and learn my routine
so that they could
use me as a witness

when they faked
Udo'’s murder.

Why?Life insurance.

You were right.

The contractors must have
had a piece of the action.

So when that whole thing
happened with me and the watch,

everybody must have got
a little nervous and scared

that they were gonna
get blamed for Udo'’s murder.

Is that why they
knocked you off the roof?

That was Kick.
Alma must have told her

how much I loved it up there.

So she just waited around
and followed me,

and then pushed me over.

The contractor Kasparian--

he was the one who probably
tried to kill me at the movies.

Oh, my God!
He'’s having an orgasm!

Do me a favor, darling.

You have to call the police
station

and ask for
Detective Belladonna.

And get this whole thing
straightened out,

because there'’s people
out there trying to kill me.

Oh, Desmond,
you'’re way over-stressed.

Nobody'’s trying to kill you.

He'’s probably
out of the country by now.

Udo, Kick, and Gloria,
they can'’t leave

until the insurance pays.

You gotta go by
Kick'’s brother's apartment.

Udo is there.

I saw him.

Why would she drag
her brother into this?

Insurance doesn'’t pay
without a body.

They need that foot
for the DNA match.

You saw the foot.

It was definitely cut
with some kind
of surgical tool.

Kick'’s brother
went to med school.

This is the address.
Brett Birmingham.

And you'’re sure
about all this?

No.

But the pieces
almost fit together.

Why else would Udo be
at Brett Birmingham'’s apartment?

Go home, Des.

I gotta make a few calls,
and I'’ll swing by later.

Okay. You sure
you don'’t need any,

you know,
backup or something?

Positive.
Okay. All right.

But wait a second.
What about me?

I'’m gonna take a look,
and I'’ll call you.

If it checks out,
we'’ll protect you.

We'’re done.

Could I get your home number
just in case?

I'’d rather die.

Chaney.

Chaney, where are you going?

You want to know
where I'’m going?

Did you tell me
where you were going
as you ran away,

while I was pinned
under a murdered pervert

who had just used me
as a Playboy Magazine?

You asshole.

I did not enter
into a covenant with my body

just to have you give me
AIDS or syphilis or--

What are you talking about?

Your undwerwear was in
a Ziploc bag in the trash.

You went through the trash?

No.

Actually, the janitor
knocked on our door.

He said you'’d thrown it
in with the recycling.

Chaney, I'’m sorry.

Oh, come on, Desmond.
You'’re not sorry.

The whole blue bag/
brown bag thing

has been going on
for three years.

Not about that.

About being
with another woman.

Yeah, so am I.

I'’m sorry for me,
I'’m sorry for her,

and I'’m sorry for you,
because you'’ve just wrecked

your last chance to have
a normal relationship.

But what do you care

when you'’ve got women
coming out of the woodwork?

I don'’t understand.

Oh, don'’t play dumb with me.

Vicki called.

She said the name you want
is Gloria.

Then Gloria'’s the one.

Too bad.
It could have been me.

Oh, and please get that
recycling thing figured out.

It'’s my planet, too, you know.

They'’re trying to kill me!

Hey, Des!

Listen. I was right
about Kick and Gloria.

They just tried to kill me.
I need some protection.

Fuck '’em!

What the hell'’s
going on here?

Oh, just a little party.

A $21 million party!

I couldn'’t have
done it without you.

1-1-4-2-5. That'’s
Brett Birmingham'’s address.

The address plus my birthday.

You always gotta
play your birthday.

You won the lottery off
of someone trying to kill me?

You the man, Des.

You the man.

Listen to me.

You got to put the word out
on a red Mercedes

with handicapped plates.

Des, I don'’t have
to do Jack shit.

I quit the Force at 10:01.

Who'’s on my case?

Right now, you'’re it.

The captain'’s gone.
Come by tomorrow morning.

He'’ll stick somebody on it.

How about it, Des? 21 mil!

Hey, maybe I'’ll start
my own thing

and you can be my...

my Market Manifest
Facilitator.

Hey, help me up, Sammy.

Hey, guys, you know the Bible,

the miracles,
all this religious stuff,

it'’s full of
secret sexual symbolism.

Biblical scholars
are animals.

Here, take the parting
of the Red Sea, for example.

If this is gonna be

like that chihuahua
with Down syndrome story--

Abe, unless you'’ve got
a veterinarian degree
on the wall,

you can kiss my ass.

Now. Red Sea symbolizes
Egyptian women.

Open up for the Jews.

Close for the Egyptian.

That'’s why the Arabs
hate the Jews.

Hey, America'’s Most Wanted.

Oh, hell, Moses
and the burning bush.

Now even a child
could figure that one out,

it'’s so goddamn simple.

Hey, Duncan, how are you?

Hey, white man.

What do you know
about the crown of thorns?

Couldn'’t tell you.

Well, think about it.

All those pictures
of Jesus, right?

There'’s always
a different number of thorns.

There'’s 9, sometimes 13, 27.

Huh?

Anybody?

There'’s a thorn

for every woman the artist
fucked in his village.

Skay, you'’re really
going to hell for that one.

Warm up the bed, W.D.
I'’m on my way.

Here'’s another one.

What'’s the significance

of Mary being a virgin

and the sheep'’s
in the manger?

Huh?

Come on, white man,
you should know this one.

What, are you dead
over there?

No, wait, he'’s asleep.

Hell, he really
does that shit, doesn'’t he?

Even when
you'’re looking at him.

Let'’s fuck with him.

Okay, need you to put
your hands on your heads now.

Please. Nobody move.

Please, don'’t shoot.

Honey, you picked
the wrong place to rob.

This ain'’t a robbery, Skay.

Shut up. Everybody shut up.
That'’s enough talking.

I'’ll take the shotgun.

Give it to him. Tell him
if anybody tries to get out

or come in, to use it.

Go. It'’s almost over.

Well, well, well.

Third time'’s a charm, huh?

Don'’t hit the window.

Why do I have to kill him?

'’Cause I fucked it up twice.
Call me superstitious, okay?

Any time.

Today, please.

Told you we'’d be back.Hey, who the hell is this?

Shut up, bitch.

Go!

You lousy bitch.

You shot my dog again.

What is it
with this fucking place?

Hey, chill. She'’s got a gun.
Let'’s go, man.

Come on, let'’s get
the fuck outta here!

Well, I guess
Udo'’s gotta be pissed.

First his foot,
and now his wife.

And I don'’t think
he'’s gonna be collecting

his share
of the insurance money.

I guess I'’m
the only problem you have.

Had.

You'’re not gonna
shoot me, Kick.

I'’m sorry, Desmond.

Is that the cop'’s gun?

That'’s right.

Well, then, she'’s not gonna
shoot me, is she, Babe?

No. She won'’t.

Oh, is he gonna stop me?

Gee, Desmond, I guess you'’re
not as smart as I thought.

Told you I had a gun.

You didn'’t have to kill her.

Oh, no?

The other night
I put five shots in the dog.

She just put
the last one in Gloria.

She was out of bullets.

She had it coming.

Pokey, grilled cheese.

Was it worth it?

What have I lost?

A foot?

A wife?

A lousy job at a bank?

You see, Desmond,

that little drama
the other night

when I burst
into your life

was merely
the punctuation mark

for a death I'’d come to embrace

a long time ago.

As we all do.

Would be a shame to see
those plates go to waste.

We should have
listened to Kick.

She wanted you
a part of it.

She said you had something...

Something.

You could see
what others don'’t.

Sometimes.

So that'’s it?

You'’re just gonna
pack it all up and head--

There'’s nothing to pack.

Toss it all.

Thanks, McCoy.

Desmond, I'’ve taken my clothes,
my CDs, and the juicer.

Everything else is yours.

Taped to the refrigerator
is a tally

of what everything is worth

plus my share of equity
in the condo.

You can send
a check to my office.

If my parents
try to contact you,

please tell them
you'’ve been diagnosed

with testicular cancer

and prefer to live out
your remaining months alone.

Good luck, Desmond.

I'’ll always miss the person
you might have been.

This is a nice place, Dunc.

You mean Desmond.

Oh.

By the way,

where'’d you get W.D.?

My fourth grade teacher.

What'’s it mean?

Wet Dream.

Works for me.

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