Northern Exposure (1990–1995): Season 3, Episode 1 - The Bumpy Road to Love - full transcript

Until today, we can only see Rick
through the hazy blur of memory,

a fading image in the mind's eye.

But now, we have something solid,
something tangible, that says,

"Hey, everybody,
lookee here. It's me, Rick. '"

And who do we have
to thank for that? Maggie.

I think you all know
she commissioned this statue...

which is so, uh- It's almost lifelike.

All right, lookee, why don't we
pause for a moment of silence,

kinda send Rick our thoughts,
wherever he is.

And, you know, who knows? Maybe - Maybe
he's gonna receive them, all right?

Heads down. Rick,



our thoughts to you, buddy.

Okay, Fleischman, okay.

Okay, Fleischman, okay, what?

I know what you're thinking.
No, you don't.

Yes, I do. You think it
looks like a hood ornament.

How'd you know?

Because you would
think a thing like that.

Because, well, it does.

It was supposed to be dignified and
regal. And instead, it looks like a-

A hood ornament.

Spare me the sympathy, Fleischman.

You think I did this out of
some misguided sense of guilt.

Well, Rick's death was an
accident. I'm an innocent bystander.

Did I say anything, O'Connell?
I didn't say anything.



Joel? You wanted to say something?

Me? Uh, you mean about Rick? Um-

Uh, uh, we had a few beers, you know.
I, um-I removed a mole.

Well, I guess if nobody
has anything further to add, we, uh-

Excuse me. I'd like to say something.

Okay.

Come on up.

Hi.

My name's Joanne. You don't know
me, but I feel like I know you.

Rick talked about you quite a bit.
Cicely had a special place in his heart.

And I know today
would have meant so much to him.

Rick had his faults like everybody else,

but basically he was a really good guy.

I miss our walks.

The way he cooked sloppyjoes.

Those zestful morning showers together.

I miss you, sweetheart.

Woman drives 350 miles,

takes only long enough
to down a quart of Gatorade...

and then she brings in a target
even cleaner than mine.

It's all in the wrist grip.
You don't say?

Stops the recoil. Here,
I'll show you. Yeah.

Left hand supports the right.

I can't tell you what seeing you...

handle a sidearm means to me, Barbara.

The way you take its measure.

The way your hand caresses the grip.

The way your strong, supple fingers
encircle the trigger.

Was it fate, Barbara? How's that?

If my radio hadn't been stolen,

if I hadn't insisted they send down law
enforcement, I never would have met you.

How about showing me your Brownie?

Now? Go for it.

Nine millies, 13 shots. Brilliant.

I've got something else here
you might appreciate.

Twin Browning, nine millies.

I had it engraved.
It's all yours, Barbara.

Tony let me fire
his SIG-Sauer P226 once,

but this-

this is the finest firearm
ever made, Maurice.

Tony?

A trooper on the force. I see.

My God, feel the balance in this puppy.

I get the Cicely News
and World Telegram,

and when I read about the statue,
I felt I had to come.

It was like I needed to
say good-bye to Rick.

Do you know what I mean?

Sure. Um-

Now, so you met Rick last
summer. Summer before last.

Right. That's what he said. What?

What? What's what he said?

Well, he said that he met
a very interesting woman in, um-

Juneau. Juneau.

Uh, yeah. And you guys met at the, um-

Store. The store.

My store. Your store?

Rick loved Inuit skin sewing.

For a layman, he was incredibly

knowledgeable about
native Alaskan crafts.

Rick? My Rick?

Our-Our Rick loved Indian crafts?

Listen, this is kind of awkward.
Rick did tell you about me?

Look, he told me, okay?
It's not a problem.

We had a very understanding
relationship.

Very understanding. Very, um-

Open. Yes, open.

That's what he said.
I brought you some things.

His gloves.

I gave him these for Christmas.

I thought you might wanna have 'em.

And I believe this is yours.

My Opium?

It's a bit strong for my taste. I like
something in the more delicate side.

- Caleche.
- Yes!

- He gave you my Caleche?
- Last Christmas.

You didn't know about me, did you?
You know, l-I just don't get it.

We shared his gloves, his perfume,

his, uh, everything.

You didn't mind?

I wasn't looking for
any kind of commitment,

and Rick wasn't
a commitment kind of guy.

So, in a way, it was a relief.

So, it didn't bother you in the least
that there were two of us?

Two?

The tradition of the toast hearkens
back to 17 th-century England...

when, uh, the success
or health of a new venture...

was, uh, christened
by a drink of wine...

with a piece of toast submerged in it.

Over time, we've dispensed
with the actual toasted bread,

but the intent remains the same.

Thus, it is, I would like to
lift my glass to bless your union.

And wish you every future happiness.

- Well, thank you, Maurice.
- Hear! Hear!

- Yeah! Yeah!
- Holling, I have to admit...

that for a long time, I have, uh,

slightly resented your happiness.

I felt that it may have been captured,
to some extent, at my expense.

I didn't mean to dump you, Maurice.

Oh, believe me, Shelly, you did me the

greatest favor you could
have possibly done.

I admit, I was bereft.

- Bereft?
- Sense of loss. Destitution.

As foolish as it now seems, at the time,

I thought my heart would never mend.

But that was before I knew...

- what real happiness awaited me.
- Real happiness?

Oh, you and I had
an undeniable fun, Shelly,

but, uh, you can't-
you can't compare Rollerblading...

to crouching in a duck blind...

with a shotgun next to your cheek.

How come we never go to duck blinds?

You wanna sit in a duck blind?

How do I know if you never ask me?

I'd like to propose another toast.

To our guest of honor...

whose healing presence
is responsible for this gathering.

To Officer Barbara Semanski,

who didn't find my radio,
but who captured my heart.

Ed?

Wh-Who's there?

Hello?

Hello?

Is anybody there?

Hello?

Oh, my God.!

Adam? No, it's the Fuller Brush man.

Well, you have to creep around on
a person's porch? You can't knock?

Hey, after three years in the D.M.Z.,
recon is second nature, my friend.

Open the door.

Do you realize the humiliation
that you cost me last year?

Nobody believed me. Oh, I said, "Yeah,
I saw Adam, Cicely's own Bigfoot.

Mr. Sasquatch.
He cooked me pot stickers...

and Szechuan chicken in a wok
in the middle of nowhere.

I bring 'em out to your shack. You clean

the place out - lock,
stock and Cuisinart.

What do you want? It's after
midnight. Oh, forgive me.

My visit is untimely.

But correct if I'm wrong-
you did claim to be a doctor.

- Well, are you sick?
- No, it's my better half.

Your better half? What, you're married?

You never said you were married.

Oh, did I neglect to give you my
curriculum vitae? Yes, I have a wife.

Well, how come I didn't see her?

What-What is this?
The Spanish Inquisition?

- She was in Baden-Baden.
- Baden-Baden. As in Germany?

Well, do you know another Baden-Baden?

She was taking the baths.

I had to leave without
saying good-bye because I

was in a rush to hook
up with her in Tuscany.

Oh, Tuscany. Italy.

Fiesole, actually. L-I had to sharpen
up my pasta skills. Can we go now?

Y-You really think I'm going out
in the middle of the night?

I'm gonna follow a pathological
liar into the woods to treat a wife,

who by any reasoning person's assessment

is a figment of said
maniac's imagination?

Put that down.
Excuse me, put that down right now.

Would you rather be
snapped in two like a twig?

Excuse me.

Put that- I said put that down.

Right this instant, Adam. Hey,
Adam, come back here right now! Adam!

So, Adam, this alleged wife of yours
Her name's Eve.

You're kidding. Your wife's name is Eve?

Spare me the snake and apple
jokes, please. Make a right.

Now, what's wrong with her?
Believe me, she'll tell you.

How long have you been married?
What, silence offends you?

You feel you have to make conversation?

Nine years.

Nine? Yes, nine years.

And let me tell you - every single
hour of every single day...

of every single year has been bliss.

Not happiness, Fleischman-
sheer, unadulterated ecstasy-bliss.

Well, she must be very special.

Special? She's incredible.

She's unique. She is a rare
flower. A precious jewel.

Most men can only dream
about a woman like Eve,

and I have her 24 hours a day,
seven days a week.

Sounds wonderful.

You've never been married, have you?

So, how you doing down there?

Just fine, Dave. What of it?

Hi, Maggie. Ed.

Ed, Ed, Ed, Ed, Ed.

How are you, Ed?

Pretty good.

Tell me something, Ed.

You ever notice how with men,
they never really listen to you?

Nope.

Watch one sometimes.

Oh, they- they pretend to listen.

I mean, they nod and they grunt,

but they don't really listen.

Huh. You know why?

Nope. Because they can
only think of one thing.

The joystick. Is it big
enough? Where can they put it?

Do you know what
the really tragic thing is?

They're so sweet and so loving
when they're born.

So cute, you know?
But then they grow up.

And they become these big
sweaty, stupid things.

God, you guys have great hair.

Thanks.

You know what I feel
when I look at a man, Ed?

Pity. Loathing.

Genuine revulsion.

What?

Well, you know, Maggie, I'm a man.

Oh, well-Anyway.

Men have been running things
for thousands of years.

What do we have to show for it? War.

Pollution. The S&L thing.

And do they ever put
a toilet seat down? No!

So what do we need them for?

Well- Okay, sex is fine.

Sex is good.

Sex is great.
Okay, okay, we need men for sex.

Do we need so many?

Never treated anyone
who had her own cuff.

A blood pressure check should be
a daily practice. Don't you agree?

Well, it can't hurt.

So, how long have you been aware
of these multiple symptoms?

'89, Rochester. I was examined
by all the so-called experts.

Then the Mayo Clinic, the
Sloan-Kettering and City of Hope.

Is it my fault they're incompetent? You
don't feel there's been any improvement?

Oh, well, eventually they stabilized my
iron levels and the zinc self-corrected.

But doesn't my low B.P.
indicate something?

No, it's not low. It's just
low normal. I was thinking-

Look, say ah. Ah. Ah. Ah.

Open. Addison's disease.

Addison's disease? Yes.

The fatigue, the muscle weakness,
the occasional dizziness.

Well, it's a probing
diagnosis, but you haven't

experienced weight loss
or pigmentation changes.

No, I would definitely rule out
Addison's disease.

- Pernicious anemia?
- Your color's too good.

Then what? Try this.

- You're not sick.
- Oh, what do you know?

Will you tell him my symptoms are real?
Well, yeah, I'm sure they feel real.

Even debilitating.
However, I'm having a hard

time finding anything
organic that would-

Just say it. Go on!
She's a hypochondriac.

I have a history
of documented illnesses.

At birth, I was afflicted
with Klumpke's paralysis.

I had no use of my right hand or
wrist for the first six months of life.

Yeah, yeah, sure. Tell him about the hat
disease. It has nothing to do with hats.

Beret syndrome.
Trophic ulcers on my fingertips...

that have only just recently cleared up.

Well, here we go.

Oh, it smells wonderful.

I can't eat. I'm nauseated. What is it?

It's, uh, sorrel soup
with roasted scallops.

Mmm.

Soup? What did you cook it in?

What do you think? A soup kettle.

- We don't have a soup kettle.
- Yes, we do.

I threw it away. It is perfectly good.

It's aluminum. I told you
aluminum collects in the brain.

You're trying to poison my brain.

Your brain is already poisoned, and
aluminum has nothing to do with it.

What-What are you doing?
I'm throwing it away.

My soup!

Oh, no, you don't.
You put that soup down.

I'm warning you.
Put-Put that down right now!

Ah, you! All right, that's it.

Now you've done it. Oh,
look at the puffer

fish puff up. Now I'm really scared!

I would tear you apart
with my bare hands,

but it would give you
too much satisfaction.

I'm outta here! Great news! Wonderful!

- I mean it!
- Go!

- I'm never coming back!
- Promises, promises.

If I never see you
again, it'll be too soon.

Oh!

Good riddance!

Well-

Uh, I guess I'd better be heading
off too. It's getting kinda late.

- No, wait!
- I have an early day tomorrow and-

Please? Um, you haven't
palpated my thyroid.

Well, I think we can put that off
till my next visit.

Nothing like a bright,
crisp morning in Cicely.

Small town America at its best.

Muffler! Today!
Rendezvous back at your place?

1500 hours? Fine with me.

Maurice, we're in public.

Oh, come on.

See you later.

Hey, Maurice. Look at her, Chris.

She's ticketing my Harley.
So full of purpose.

So dedicated. So thorough.

Boy, that is a real pro.

Yeah.

I'm in love, Chris.

It's like when I first experienced
weightlessness.

I didn't know whether
I was gonna tumble up or down.

Well, "Love is like friendship
caught on fire."

Hey, I like that. Is
that yours? Bruce Lee.

The thing about Barbara is that
she's just so much fun to be with.

It's like this morning-

She threw me an ax, and we raced
through a half a cord of white spruce.

Sounds like
a heavy-duty blood rush, Maurice.

You know, Chris, I've always

differentiated between,
uh, men and women.

To me, men were comrades,
friends, confidants.

Women were objects of desire,
admiration, nothing more.

But, recently, with Barbara,
it's like we've become-

- Soul mates.
- Yeah, that's it.

You've been listening to that
Robert Bly tape I gave you.

No, no, no. He lost me
when he started talking

about listening through
the ear in your stomach.

But, uh, I think I'm gonna need
your ministerial services, Chris.

No way. Yeah.

Did you pop the question?
I'm this close.

All right, Maurice. You old dog.

Look, look at her. Look.
She's nailed a jaywalker.

Hey. Hey! What is this?

- Don't strain yourself.
- Hey!

- You-You struck me.
- Yes.

You-Take these off right now.

- No.
- Okay. Um-

Look.

I won't press charges, Eve.

I'll forget all about it. We'll-We'll

pretend that, uh, this
didn't happen. Okay?

Hey.

This is kidnapping. This is a felony.

I demand you take these off
this instant.

- I can't.
- Why not?

- I need you.
- What?

I need a 24-hour, on-call physician.

Are you out of your mind?
Wait, don't answer that.

It's a rhetorical question.
You are out of your mind.

- Don't get nasty.
- Hey. Hey!

Help! Help!

Help.! Help.! Scream all you want.

It won't do you any good,
except maybe give both of us headaches.

In which case, I may be
forced to whack you again.

Do you-

Do you actually think I'm going to take
care of you under these circumstances?

- You have to.
- I do not.

- You took an oath.
- It doesn't matter. By assaulting me,

you have broken the social contract
between physician and patient.

You're angry now. I understand that.

Please, take these off of me.

You'll feel better in a few days.

Days? I have got to get
this place cleared up.

Adam is such a pig when he cooks.

Did he ever tell you how we met?

It was at a book party.
I was in publicity.

I was an editor, corner office at Knopf.

It is Knopf, by the way.
Say the "K," not the "P."

Anyway, there was Adam,

this dark, brooding man in a chef s hat.

We went back to his place.

He whipped up a zabaione.
I've been with him ever since.

But the toxicity of Manhattan started
playing hell with my electrolytes.

Alaska seemed like the place to go.

Little did we know about the P.C.B. 's.

I'm home.

The plan for this evening is
T-bones, horns off, and baked Idahos.

- What?
- I'm outta here.

Barbara?

I was working out
upstairs, the phone rang.

- Your answering machine picked up.
- What?

Hi, Maurice. This is McDivitt.

My accountant. Good news. I checked
into the capital gains thing.

The I.R.S. will never pick it out
as passive income.

We'll put all the debentures
on Schedule D.

This is going to save you a fortune.

- You broke the law.
- I didn't break it.

Maybe l-I bent it a little bit.

I don't find that amusing.

Barbara, loopholes
are an American tradition.

Not in my book.

Besides, it's not the law,
it's a tax code.

I bet Donald Trump doesn't pay a dime.

I cleaned the Browning
and put it back in the case.

Barbara?

Please?

I've told Adam a hundred times-

If you're going to grill in the house,
you've got to use proper ventilation.

But, oh, no.

The great chef can't be bothered with
anything as mundane as respiration.

It's not like I'm being unreasonable.

It's well documented.
It's in all the medical literature.

Charcoal smoke is carcinogenic.

Mmm. You sure
you don't want some of this?

Come on now. Don't pout.
You haven't eaten in 16 hours.

- I'm not hungry.
- With my blood sugar,

I have to eat every four hours
or I get dizzy.

- Mmm.
- What is it?

Cassoulet.
It's always better the next day.

Well, maybe just a taste.

That's better. I'm a patient woman.

It takes a lot to get me really upset,
but the man doesn't wear shoes.

It's not only unsightly,
it's unsanitary.

There is a reason that they have
those signs in restaurants-

No shoes, no service.

Okay, maybe for a couple of weeks in

February, when the
temperature is below 60,

with a wind chill factor of 90,

maybe I can get him to wear
a pair of thongs.

Don't bolt your food.

Now, if bare feet were
the only thing, that

would be okay, but it's
part of a pattern.

Part of his consistent disregard
for my well-being.

- Well, look at the lovebirds.
- Get me out of here.

Didn't take you two long
to get cozy, did it?

What do you want? She knocked
me out and shackled me.

Huh. The hypochondriac and the doctor.

I'll call Noël Coward.
He'll write a play.

- Adam.
- What do you think you're doing?

There's nothing to cook with
at the country house.

- The country house.
- You're not taking the paella pan.

What is this? Your pied-à-terre?

- You wouldn't know a paella
pan from a chafing dish.

The vertical roaster is mine.

I ordered this from Williams-Sonoma.

Dr. Berman gave it to me
after the kidney crisis.

You don't even cook! You never
cooked anything in your life!

I cook. It just isn't my raison-d'être.

I happen to have more to my life
than béarnaise sauce.

Oh, yeah, like antihistamines.

Like tetracycline! You have
more pills than the F.D.A.

Look at this! Look! Look at this!

What do you know?
You're a pathological liar.

- A pathological liar?
- Liar, liar, pants on fire!

You have made up every disease in
Gray's Anatomy, for God's sakes!

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

Shut up! Shut up!

Look at you, fighting like that in
front of a stranger. Have you no shame?

All right, I'm laying down the law.
If you can't settle this, I will.

You've got no right-Nobody
tells me what-Quiet.!

I make the rules. Make us some coffee.

Now!

Vienna roast or Kona?

Maggie? Maggie,
you gotta fly me to Anchorage.

You know what I see when I look
at your fat, ugly face? Hmm?

What? A man.

You know something? You have no neck.

Just like Gumby.

Hmm.

Uno más. Uno más.

Coming up, Maggie.

You know, Maggie,
this root beer is really good.

Hmm? You should try some.

Great idea. Root beer with three fingers
of gin. I think you've had enough, dear.

Enough? Yes.

Enough.

You know, Ruth-Anne, you're lucky
you're old enough to be a woman.

Come along, Maggie. I'll take you home.

Maurice, I don't think it's your form.
I think it's your philosophy.

Philosophy? Yeah, your mind-set.

Man, you're all over the place today.
All right, look.

In kyudo philosophy, you
don't really aim at the target,

because you gotta become one with it.

Then, there's really nothing to aim at.

Works with the women too. Give it a try.

No, it's not the aim, Chris.
It's the desire.

Every time I nock an arrow,
I see Barbara.

All right, look. That's lack of focus.

It - It increases anxiety,
decreases pleasure. You mind?

No, no, go ahead.
It's not just the archery, Chris.

Earlier today, I blew away
a six-point buck.

All I felt was emptiness.

Why don't you give her a call? Oh, no.

No, she's made it abundantly clear
that she doesn't want to talk to me.

No, she'd just hear my voice
and hang up.

Only one way to know for sure.

Chris, I'm all for getting back on
a horse that's just thrown me off,

but the way I'm hurting now,

I don't think I could take another fall.

Ruth-Anne. Hmm?

Why are all men such swine?

Well, they're not all swine, dear.

Well, most of them perhaps.

The problem is they don't know
us, and we don't know them.

In Genesis two, it says that
Adam was created from dust,

and Eve was created from Adam's rib.

Now, putting aside
all the sexist put-down,

what that really means is that men
and women are created differently.

Yeah, like swine.

You didn't know my husband, Bill.

A lovely, decent man.

A few months after we were married,
theJapanese attacked Pearl Harbor,

and I joined the Women's Army Corps.

I ended up packing parachutes
in an airfield over by Manchester.

Bill had rheumatic fever when he
was a child, and he couldn't serve,

so he stayed in Portland.

I know the next part.

He had an affair.

At the time, I hoped so.

- Why?
- Well, because I did.

You? He was an English pilot.

And I thought I loved him.

But I really just needed him.

There was so much death.

And when I was in bed with him,
I wasn't thinking about death.

- What happened?
- He was killed in a raid over Hamburg.

And you know, if he hadn't died,

I might have divorced Bill
and married him.

Look. What I'm trying to say...

is that we can't know
what's in another person's heart.

We can't even know what's in our own.

Life turns on a dime,

and somehow we muddle through.

- Good night, dear.
- Good night.

On our first date,

Adam told me he was working
with a U.N. team of scientists...

to develop a drought-resistant
strain of wheat. That's not-

- Uh-
- But she-

Hey, hey, hey.

Not wheat, rice. It was rice.

Needless to say, this wasn't true.

Nor was his claim that
he excavated Ramses

III's tomb in the Valley of the Kings.

Nor that he led rebel forces
in the capture of Addis Ababa.

I could go on and on.

In the face of these outright lies, how
can one build trust in a relationship?

Adam.

But before I get into trust,
I would just like to say...

that when it's my turn to talk,
she is coughing, she is wheezing.

- Can I help it if I'm allergic?
- Eve.

Sorry, Dr. Fleischman.
And you don't say a thing.

But when I interrupt to correct a lie-

Adam, just state your case.
Let me draw you a picture.

It's 3:00 a.m.,

she wakes up with leg cramps,
demands a muscle relaxant.

Where's the nearest
all-night pharmacy? Sleetmute.

Four hundred miles away.

We don't even have a mule,
let alone a car.

My legs were balled up like fists.

Always her needs. I mean, I'm out
there, I'm running the rat race,

trying to deal with the world of

revolving-door chefs
and food consultants.

Do I ever get a word of encouragement?

A word of sympathy? No. I'm offered
a job at Tour d'Argent in Paris.

You? An American? They begged me.

What does she say?
No, she doesn't wanna go to Paris,

because she finds the French combative,
and they let dogs sit at the table.

So, I turned them down.

Yet, I feel like a terrible person
for wanting to go.

If you haven't been an only child,
you can't understand.

Eve.

I felt pressured to be
everything for my parents,

which may be why nothing I do
ever feels like enough.

Oh, hold on. Here we go.

I'm attractive. I'm bright. But that
means nothing when you can't swallow.

- If only you couldn't talk.
- There's a specialist in Houston.

When I'm well enough to tr - We've
already had a dozen second opinions.

Stop.

I've heard enough.

Here's my decision. You.

Nobody should believe
anything you say, not even hello.

In addition, you are rude,
you are hostile,

and you have no regard
for personal hygiene.

And you.

I've encountered
hypochondriacs before, sure,

but if they gave out awards,
you would win the M.V.P.

That you would actually enslave someone
to serve your delusions of illness,

you are, without a doubt,
the most selfish, egotistical-

No, the most megalomaniacal person
I have ever met.

The two of you are a disaster,
and together, you're beyond description.

There-There is nothing
worth saving here.

You go one way, you go the
other. Split up the appliances.

Split up the forests.
Split up the mountains.

You go east of the pipeline,
you go west of the pipeline...

and never ever see one another again.

Maggie.! Maggie.

Rick! Rick.

Don't worry. I'm still dead.

Where are we? Heaven.

Heaven?

You're in heaven?

Well, it's really not
all that hard to get in.

I mean, compared to an Ivy League school
or some of the NBA play-off games,

it's actually a breeze.

This looks like
the Grosse Pointe Country Club.

Heaven is
the Grosse Pointe Country Club?

For you.

It's your dream.

I always hated it when my parents
dragged me to the club.

Well, obviously
on some subconscious level, you-

Oh, my God!

I don't believe it. That's Mr. Handley.

He and my dad played golf
every Wednesday.

I knew he had a bad ticker,
but I didn't know he was dead.

So, what am I doing here?

Well, clearly, there are some
unresolved issues we should deal with.

Unresolved issues.

Like your cheating on me?
That unresolved issue?

Oh, come on, Maggie,
you knew. I did not.

You had to. What are you talking about?

Last Christmas, I mixed up the gifts.

I gave you Joanne's Caleche.
You don't wear

Caleche. You don't like Caleche.
It's too sweet.

That could have been an honest mistake.

It could have been. Denial, Maggie.

Oh, no, no,
we're not making this my problem.

So, Rick, how many
other women were there?

How many? Uh-huh.

All together
or at a particular given time?

Just give me a rough estimate.

2,500.

2,500?

You slept with 2,500 women?

- More or less.
- When you were with me?

Oh, it had nothing to do with you.
It was me. I was a sexual addict.

Like Howard Hughes.
LikeJ.F.K. Like Dillinger.

Dillinger. John Dillinger, the gangster?

You can't imagine what a burden it was,

all these women,
all these empty sexual experiences.

Death was actually a great relief.

Well, sort of.

You know, Rick, I'm trying real hard
to muster up some sympathy for you.

I'm not looking for sympathy.

I'm dead. It's over.
You're what this is about.

Look at the men you have relationships
with. It's all part of a pattern.

I've met Glen here and Bruce.
We're all the same-gypsies, roamers.

You need someone steady.
Someone you can count on.

Someone like- I don't know-like-

- Fleischman.
- Yeah.

You know, Rick, I've had about as
much of this dream as I can take.

- I understand.
- Yeah.

Look, I gotta go.
I gotta tee off in five.

Sit, relax, enjoy lunch.
Tell him to put it on my tab.

Hello? Hey.

Hey, wake up.

Good morning, Dr. Fleischman. What?

Eve and I talked.

We decided to give it another try.

l-That wasn't my recommendation.

What, we're supposed to listen to you,
with your personal history?

What is that supposed to mean?

Hey, I've gotten chain letters
that had more heart.

"DearJoey. Take care.
Don't get frostbite."

That's Elaine's letter.
You read Elaine's letter?

Let me tell you something.
No wife of mine would ever run off...

with some mangy federal judge
old enough to be her grandfather.

- How did you read Elaine's letter?
- We'd like you to leave now.

Oh, you-you'd like me to leave?
As in this is my choice?

As in I've elected to remain
and now I've outworn my welcome?

Hold out your hands.

Spread, please.

Oh, nice dog. Good dog.

Sit!

Uh, Barbara, I was just, uh, in the
neighborhood, and I thought I'd drop in.

Can you do something with them?

Perimeter.

What is it, Maurice?

Uh, well, Barbara, l-I just
wondered if we might be able to talk.

Now? Oh, I'm sorry.

I didn't realize you had company.
I can come back another time.

Just a sec.

Tony. Eighty-six.

Barbara, I admit that what I did
could be construed...

as not completely aboveboard.

But you and I both know...

to call it an outright criminal act
would be a gross exaggeration.

When you break the law,
you've committed a criminal act.

You have no idea...

how much I admire your dedication.

What do you want, Maurice?

Talk's cheap.

I want you to know that
my words carry weight,

so l-I've got this check
that I'm gonna present...

to the State Police
Benevolence Association...

for $20,000.

That's $20,000, Barbara. Four zeros.

I'm sure you'll receive
a nice letter of thanks.

Barbara. And a sizable
deduction on your 1040.

Well, all right, make it 25,000.

I think you better go now.

How 'bout 30,000?

Barbara, is it Trooper Tony in there?

He's nothing.
He's a diversion, a rebound.

What is it, Barbara?

You've got to tell me what I can do.

You don't get it, Maurice.

I'm not a cop because I wanna be.
I'm a cop because I have to be.

I was called to the law.
I'm its servant.

I eat, breathe, sleep the law.

It courses through my body like blood.

And when you stepped
on the law, Maurice,

you stepped on me.

It's yellow. I think it's
jaundice. It's not jaundice.

I've had obstructions
of the common bile duct before.

It is not jaundice.

Honey, Eve, have you been eating
a lot of carrots?

No.

Certain medications
cause jaundice, don't they?

Quinacrine hydrochloride, for instance.

Okay, you wanna be sick? You are sick.

Yes, that is jaundice. That is
- It is the

worse case of jaundice I have ever seen.

The question is: What's causing it?

Best-case scenario:
Gallstones. Gallstones.

Could be hepatitis or
maybe you've developed

full-blown metastasized,
inoperable pancreatic cancer.

Hey, hey, buddy,
that's my wife you're talking to.

When you get back from New Zealand,
sweetheart, I wanna go get a CAT scan.

Okay, sweetheart? New Zealand.

Okay, I'll bite. What's in New Zealand?

Yacht race. Kiwi Cup.

Fifty-foot catamarans.

They let you race a yacht?

Well, they grouse about it, but, uh,
they really don't have much choice.

He designed the sails.

Don't ask.

All right, come on.
I know you're dying to say something.

I disappear without a trace.
I'm abducted from my home.

I return in chains.
You're not even the least bit curious?

Your sterile sponges came in.

Thank you. Thank you, Marilyn.

Where have you been, Fleischman?
Oh, you wanna know?

- Yeah.
- You really wanna know?

- Yeah.
- Remember Adam, the missing link?

His wife, Eve, has been holding
me prisoner for the last 36 hours.

You can't even answer a simple question.

Fleischman, why are those things
on your wrist?

What do you want, O'Connell?

Nothing. I don't feel like asking now.

Fine. Don't ask.

You know, Fleischman.

Despite your many faults and
limitations, there is an honesty to you.

Not that that makes you
any more likable or charming.

O'Connell, I've had a rough couple days.

So have I.

The point is... you are who you are.

There's no hidden agenda, no subterfuge.

What you see is what you get.

As opposed to?

Rick and Glen...

and that schmuck Bruce.

At times-

And don't read anything into this, okay?

I actually find you refreshing.

You mean like a glass of ginger ale?

And occasionally amusing.

Thanks.

- You were gonna ask me something?
- I was?

- You were.
- I was.

Do you wanna have dinner?

- Dinner?
- Mm-hmm.

- What, with you?
- Forget it.

Wait a minute. Hold on, O'Connell.

No, it's okay, really. No
hard feelings. It's all right.

- Yes.
- Yes?

- Yes.
- Okay, yes.

But just dinner, Fleischman.
Nothing kinky.

Just dinner.

Good.

Bye, Maggie.

Ow. Oh, geez!

Aah! Marilyn? Marilyn!

Marilyn.!