All language subtitles for careless.love.2012.dvdrip.xvid-taste-eng

I was cleaning up
the kitchen last night,

when I stepped on something.

A finger. A neatly severed finger.

I stood there looking at it
for I don't know how long,

and then I threw up.

I guess I should have called
the police right off,

but authority figures in uniform
are always giving me a hassle.

Traffic cops, crossing guards,
it doesn't matter.

I had to give it time.

A human finger, for Christ's sake.

I had to think about this.

The guys across the hall.

Three months ago
they appeared out of nowhere.

You guys moving into 101?

Looks like it.

It was obvious they didn't want
anyone getting too friendly,

except maybe Jimmy from the building.

- Nice skunk.
- Thanks, brother.

Jimmy's always been an ass-kisser.

Well, hey, I'm Wiley Roth,
I live in the apartment across the hall.

100.

But, hey, glad to share a hall with you.

Just keep on your side of it
and we'll be fine.

It's fucking got to be
the guys across the hall.

Shit.

Coming.

Oh!

You left these hanging in your lock.

Oh, shit, thanks.

Hello?

Yes, I want to report a finger.

In my apartment,
in my kitchen.

No, no, I found a finger.

Uh-huh.

Well, I don't know.

Yeah, Wiley Roth,

251, Stanley Street.

No, I'll hold.

Hello?

Assholes!

Welcome, my people...

- Dad?
...to Sabio's spiritual network.

In here.

... change your life,

because life is like a journey,
and we must travel that journey...

Got some cheese and crackers
in the kitchen if you want any.

No, thanks, not hungry.

Wasn't expecting to see you today.

I'm meeting Mitch in a little while,
had some time to kill.

So, anything new and exciting?

I found a finger on my kitchen floor
the other night.

Oh. What kind of finger?

A human finger.

It's not yours?

Just thought I'd ask.

I've no idea what you young people
are getting into these days.

Well, yeah, maybe if you turned off the TV
once in a while

and took a look outside,
you'd be more tuned in.

I tried calling the cops.

It felt like I should, but...

I don't know.

... how smooth your journey is,
I want it to be the right journey.

What are you going to do with this finger?

I don't know, Dad.
Maybe that's why I'm here.

Maybe this is one of those times
when I could use a parent's guidance.

So, call 1-800-2-SPIRIT.

That's right, 1-800-2-SPIRIT and call.

So, how many hours
are we talking about?

I don't know. Two, two and a half.

I got back from the grocery store
around noon

and then the guy knocked on my door
a little after 2:00.

That's plenty of time
to have copies made, easy.

Yeah. Those guys are not normal.

Let me be the first to inform you

that you're keeping
somebody's finger in your freezer.

That pretty much counts you out

of anything considered
on the same page as normal.

- That thing started to smell yet?
- No.

Yeah, well, I had to work
for this talent agent yesterday,

the guy had the worst fucking breath.

He wanted to be a wrangler or something.

On his desk he had a picture of himself
at a dude ranch, riding a cow.

This girl looks just like Ann.

I told my dad about it.

He called somebody
who might be able to help.

- Help with what?
- I don't know.

Finding out whose finger it is,
how it got into my kitchen.

They're supposed to be good
with this kind of stuff.

With returning lost or stolen
body parts to their rightful owners?

Come on, man, I'm telling you,
just put signs up around the neighborhood.

"Found finger, on such and such a night."

Give a brief description.

Somebody will claim it.
They can't be happy it's missing, right?

That girl looked exactly like Ann.

Ann who?

Uh... Ann Hudson, a girl, she works with you.

You think she'd go out with me?

I mean, if I asked her out to the movies.

Does she like food?

The guys across the hall from me
are drug dealers.

Yeah?

Well, maybe they'll give you
an in-house discount.

- What are they dealing?
- Who knows?

Whatever it is,
it's got my neighbor and his friends

dancing around the street in their underwear
at 3:00 in the morning,

howling like a bunch of retarded coyotes.

Do we have our little appendage?

- How are you this morning, Mr. Roth?
- Don't give me any of your shit, Mitchell.

Yes, sir.

I hope you all are comfortable.

I brought peanuts,
because everybody likes peanuts.

I'm fine, thanks.

Finger.

What, what is it?

I thought it would float.

You thought it would...

No, I can't work like this.
It is upsetting the leaves.

I'm sorry.

Well, isn't there anything else
that you could try?

I mean, why did you think it would float?
It's not hollow, for Christ's sake.

Wiley.

Pay him.

Pay him.

Well, what can I say?

I guess the sixth sense is erratic.

I suppose it picks up static
and loses information.

It's why a psychic might know
you're pregnant,

but not if the guy sitting next to you
is the father.

So, I go to my dad,

because he's my dad
and I want to trust his judgment, and I say,

"Dad, I found a severed finger
in my apartment.

"I have no idea who it belongs to
or how it got in my apartment."

And he brings me to this guy
who dunks it in a cup of tea

like it's a cookie.

What do you want me to say?
Sabio is usually good with these things.

So, you've actually used him before,
Mr. Roth?

I mean, with other fingers and such.

- Why is he here?
- No, the question is, why am I here?

All that incense gave me a headache
and I'm late for work.

What's with the cashier and the dirty looks?

He was made manager six weeks ago.

What? After being here like a month?

Well, he sure blew past you
on the ladder to success, didn't he?

- Hi.
- Hi.

- Don't you have any place to be?
- No.

Are you sure?

Right.

I got to go.

I'll stop by your place later.
I'll call you later.

- Bye.
- Bye.

I really do not want to be
in this shit hole today.

I'm tired and I have a headache,
Stewart's being his pricky self.

Well, I'm pretty good. Thanks for asking.

Sorry.

Here you are.

It was elementary,
my dear fellow, elementary.

Wiley.

What's this?

That is...

That's mine.

As far as I can see,
you have 10 fingers.

No, no, it's a rubber finger, you know?
It's fake, for jokes, you know,

or if your fingers aren't limber enough

to reach those out-of-the-way
nooks and crannies,

like if you dropped a nickel or something.

For jokes, really?

Yes, I can see that's very funny.
I can hardly contain myself.

No, I'm going to hold onto this.

See me after work.

You are unbelievable.
Why did you bring this here?

Why didn't you leave it at home?
Or in your car?

Could it be that you were thinking
of playing a joke on someone?

On me perhaps?

- I forgot it was in my pocket.
- You forgot. You forgot!

I'm tired, Wiley.

Tired of giving you simple tasks to do
and worrying if they've been done correctly.

Tired of watching you mope
up and down the aisles day in, day out.

But God help me, I'm going to be nice.

I'm going to give you a 19th chance here.

Yeah. Tonight,
in the quiet of your apartment,

I want you to think very hard about whether
or not you want to work here anymore.

Do you understand what I'm saying?

Good. Now get that thing out of here.

So, I was coming home from work,
and I saw their door was open.

I wouldn't call it snooping.

I just wanted to make sure everything was,
you know, okay.

Hello?

Hello?

Their apartment was like
a laboratory for evil-doers.

A den of finger-amputators.

They had torture devices.

Satan-worshipping paraphernalia.

They had manuals
on how to mutilate people.

The place couldn't have been
any more incriminating.

You're confusing life
with the books you sell.

Wait, one moment,
just hear me out for a second, okay?

This guy goes to their front door

for a bag of whatever it is
that they're selling,

and he owes them a lot of money,

but he thinks that he can talk them
into spotting him just one more bag.

But my neighbors
are tired of this guy's bullshit.

They've warned him, "No more freebies,"

and as soon as they find out what he wants,
they start beating the crap out of him.

They want to teach this guy a lesson,
but they don't want any suspicious noises

coming from their place
in case someone calls the cops.

So, they use a duplicate set of keys
to unlock my door.

They drag the guy through my living room
into the kitchen,

they spread his hand out on the sink,
and then they hack his finger off.

The sink catches most of the blood,
so they had an easy time cleaning up.

The guy sits there in shock,
cradling his gimp hand.

A little gift to remember us by.

Now they give him his finger back
because they're not total assholes.

But he's so spaced, he doesn't notice it.

Yes, could have happened.
But how about this?

Two otherwise decent fellows kill someone.
They got to get rid of the body, right?

So, they decide to chop it up and dump it
in garbage cans all over the city,

arm and a leg here, head and a foot there.

These fellows end up in front
of your place,

and one sees that
your kitchen window's open.

He's feeling kind of frisky
and he bets his friend $5

he can throw the finger through it.

The fellow throws the finger
at your window, but he misses.

He's not feeling so frisky now,
because he didn't need to lose that $5,

so he bets his friend double or nothing.

He tries a second time.

What do you know?

He gets it through
and it lands wherever you found it.

It could have happened.

What did...

Jesus, when was the last time
you took a shower?

- This morning.
- You use soap?

- No. I used cow patties.
- Smells like it.

Must be that finger.

I don't smell anything.

Wiley,

I don't pretend to be the ideal father.

I know I'm probably not
what you imagined you'd be stuck with

when you were younger.

But I don't think it's right,

you sitting here playing with it
like you're doing.

I assume you have your reasons for
not going to the police, and I respect that.

Yeah. The police will hole it up

with eight million other pieces of evidence
and forget about it.

I've always tried to be
the best mother I could be,

ever since the woman who birthed you
choked on that chicken bone.

- Choked on a...
- You hide away in your books.

I pretend it means you're intelligent.

That's Mama Bear, she coddles.

But less-than-ideal Papa Bear

thinks you need to keep that in the freezer.

Mom ran off with that gypsy plumber.

- There was no chicken bone.
- Freezer.

Wiley, keep it in the freezer.

Guy's driving along.

Bam!

One of those huge, ugly, green signs
falls from the overpass,

lands on his windshield, kills him.

Now, that is a shitty draw.

Half a second sooner or later,
he would have been fine.

- Shitty draw, bad luck.
- Or fate.

You think this is funny?

She's even sicker than you.

No, I don't think it's funny. It's horrible.

- You're funny.
- Me?

Look, I don't see what the big deal is.
They don't know you.

Just act like you're a customer
and buy whatever they're selling.

You're forgetting, how do I even know
that they're dealers?

I mean, who refers me to them,
the guy downstairs?

You don't even know for sure
he bought from them.

Shit, you don't even know
if they really are drug dealers.

There's no way I'm doing it.

Maybe they're a couple
of drug-dealing psychopaths, maybe not.

I say, forget about it for a while.

What are you guys talking about?

- Nothing.
- Nothing.

Secret, spy, guy stuff.

- Mmm-hmm.
- Mmm-hmm.

Guys, I really don't feel like
going to this party.

He says he doesn't feel like
going to the party.

- You have to go to the party.
- Oh, I have to? What's with this "I have to"?

All right, it's not like I'm going
to know anybody there.

I don't have anything clever to say.
It's a stupid house party, for Christ's sakes.

It's a sweaty, smelly mass,
a bunch of people crowding into a house

so that they can get fucked up.

I don't need that.

Fine.

Don't get fucked up.

Mind if I sit here?

I'm going to have some of this tequila,
do you want any?

Sure.

- I'm glad you called.
- Yeah, me, too.

- What are you staring at?
- Huh?

Oh, nothing, just your skull ring. It's...

Got it in Santa Fe
from this old Mexican woman.

She can stick a knife an inch deep
into her chest and not even feel it.

She was something.

Well, I can stick a Q-tip halfway into my ear
without popping my eardrum, so...

Impressive.

So, what happened with the...

I mean, if you don't want to talk about it,
it's okay.

What... How did that happen?

It must have hurt.

It still does.

Look, you want to go see
a movie or something?

That is such a beautiful movie.

I liked the ending
of the book better, though.

You know, she leaves New York
without ever finding her cat,

and one day he sees it in the window

and says he's certain
that it's arrived someplace it belongs.

And he hopes that Holly,
whom he never told he loved,

in wherever she is,
has found a place where she belongs.

I mean, that's beautiful. It's sad, but...

Yeah. They don't use my favorite line
from the book, though.

It's when Holly says that
"home is where you feel at home,

"and I'm still looking."

Maybe that's why I like the movie,
because she gets the guy at the end.

That's not how life usually works, with
everyone getting what they want, you know?

Yeah.

Earlier, I didn't mean to offend you.

I know I should have known better,
but it's just...

I'm interested and I just thought I'd...

I just thought I'd ask.

You slept with her?

You slept with her!

Will you stop yelling? What is the big deal?

First time he goes out with
a nine-fingered girl, and he sleeps with her.

Hey, but thank God that drought's over.

God. Fuck!

Sorry.

So, you ask this Cheryl girl
what happened to her hand?

Yeah, she says it's kind of
hard to talk about.

Ass!

Yeah, well, since you're so
cuddly-wuddly now,

you could invite her over to your place.

If she acts a little weird,
then you know something's definitely up.

If not, call it a coincidence
that you met her when you did.

No, I don't think it's just a coincidence.

You look like an idiot.

Only people with enlarged prostates
are allowed to play this game.

Hey, at the mutual fund place
where I've been working, everybody plays.

You know, I thought I'd try it out,
I thought I'd learn something.

Sure as hell not learning anything there.

God damn it!

I was 14 when my dad died
in a freak accident.

He was helping repair a sailboat
and got electrocuted.

Oh, shit, that...

Yeah. My mom got real clingy
with me and my brother after that,

calling us at friends' houses all the time,
even school,

just to make sure we were all right.

I know she was suffering
and I was probably being selfish.

I was mad at my dad for dying, but...

I just couldn't breathe,
and I left home the day after I graduated.

My mom ran off when I was in junior high.

You never talk to her?

I don't know where she is.

I'm better with it now, you know,
not feeling suffocated and all.

But for a bunch of years
I just hopped around.

I sold balloon animals, I pumped gas.

Yeah, whatever came my way,

so long as I never had to do the same thing
twice or any one thing too long.

- How long have you been in the bookstore?
- Three years.

You must like it.

Mmm-mmm.

Why are you working there
if you don't like it?

Well, to answer that,
I will need another shot.

Okay.

All right. Salt, but no lime,

- just pure manly style.
- Oh, you're mean.

- Ready?
- To manly men.

To manly men.

So, tell me.

Well, there's not really much to tell.

It was my first job out of college,
you know, and being a lit major,

it's pretty much the only thing
I'm qualified for.

I like reading books and, you know,
I thought I'd get a good discount,

so I started looking around
all the cool little independent bookstores,

but none of them were hiring, and the only
place that I could get a job was at Book'em.

I don't even like the books that we sell.

It was just...
It was supposed to be temporary,

until I figured out
what I wanted to do for a career,

but somewhere along the way
it ended up being kind of permanent.

Oh, hey, I bought you something.

- I didn't have any wrapping paper, so...
- Okay.

- Whoa, what...
- It's a signed, first-edition, mint condition.

Well, you said you liked the book, so...

Well, yeah, I like a lot of things...
Well, not a lot of things,

but, I mean, this must have cost you...

God, I don't know, like,
$1,000 or something.

Cheryl, I should tell you something,

and I know that you don't really want to talk
about it yet, but it's kind of weird.

The other day I found...

- Hey, excuse me, we're trying to...
- Can we take a look at your hand? Huh?

Let us take a look at it.

Why don't you go puke somewhere?

Oh, come on.
What, you got a little stump there?

Holy shit!

He was only joking with you.

Oh, my... Cheryl, wait up. Sorry.

Bitch.

What was that about?

I mean, the guy was definitely being an ass,
but smashing a bottle over his head, that...

Are you okay?

You don't look so good.

Cheryl, I...

What would you say if I told you
I found a finger in my kitchen

a few days before we met?

Great.

Okay, come on.

Come on.

Who the fuck is it?

It's me. Come down. Hurry.

No one's here
to answer the buzzer right now,

but if you would like to...

Will you cut the shit?
Meet me in the alley, it's important.

Finally, there you are.
What took you so long?

I need to show you something.

No way.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
Come on. Come on.

No way. No fucking way!

- I don't smell anything.
- What?

I don't smell anything.
If the finger was here, I think I'd smell it.

No, it's got to be here.

No way did I lose it. No, no fucking way.

She passed out and I figured
I'd check to see, and it's hers.

I mean, I couldn't really tell,

which is what I wanted you for,
but I'm pretty sure it's a match.

Cinderella's fucking finger!

And I had it right here in my pocket,
but... Shit!

No way! How could I fucking lose it?

Shit. Shit, shit, shit!

- Mitch, what are you guys doing?
- Nothing. I'll be up in a minute.

Shit, I got to back track, you're coming with.

Oh, yeah, right. You...

Do you see that window up there?
That... That's mine.

Do you see the girl
sticking her head out of it? That's Ann.

You know her. Tonight she happens
to be sleeping in my bed,

where I plan to be in about two minutes.

I don't believe this!

Fate is dicking me around,
and you don't give two shits!

You don't give two flying shits
that it's missing

and that I've got the girl it belongs to
passed out drunk in my car!

Hey, I give two shits, maybe three!

For all you know,
I give a whole truck load of shits.

I'm not the one who insisted on carrying
that finger all across the goddamn city.

Enough, shut up!

I'm not the one who didn't go to the cops

because that little life he had
was so goddamn boring!

"Little life"?

Ann says you might get fired from
the fucking bookstore, for Christ's sake.

Yeah? Well, fuck you and Ann!

Well, hello.

I wonder if you all might consider lowering
your voices just so some of us could sleep?

- Hey, fuck you!
- Fuck me?

Hey, that's my neighbor! I see him regularly.

- I have to share the building with him.
- Fuck me? Fuck me?

Oh, no, no, no, no, fuck you!

I'm sorry.

I don't want to fight with you.

I know that I have been absorbed
in this finger thing, but...

Here, have some breakfast. Here, huh?

Son of a bitch!

Look...

Okay, you don't know for sure
it's her finger, right?

But you haven't found any others, right?

One finger, possible owner found.

Yeah, but what am I going to say to her?

You know, that I found her finger
and then I lost it,

but I'd like to know how it got
into my apartment?

- I mean...
- Why not?

Look, if you believe in fate so much,

maybe you were supposed
to lose the finger.

You ever think of that?

Fine. Forget it, forget it.

Look, you weren't driving around
for hours with it, right?

So, there's only a couple of places
it could be.

You don't need me to come with you.

Just don't be so hyperactive about it.

I mean, the thing's probably lying
on your curb outside of your apartment.

Okay.

Come on.

- Thanks.
- Yeah.

I'm sorry. He's going.

No, it wasn't anywhere.
I looked all over the place. I don't know...

Just keep looking, will you?
Just keep looking. I got to go.

- Good morning.
- Hey.

Does this kitchen look familiar to you?

Huh?

Have you ever been in my apartment before?

- What are you talking about?
- Nothing, nothing. I...

You were pretty messed up last night.

- Do you have any aspirin or ibuprofen?
- I have acetaminophen.

Yeah, that'll be fine.

Look, I know that we don't have the support
of a year-long relationship here,

but some things have happened
since you passed out,

and I just...

I'd appreciate it
if you would tell me what happened with

that, you know...

I'd like to.

So...

It was an accident.
I can't tell you any more than that.

Well, why not?

I didn't think that you would cut it off
on purpose or anything.

But maybe it would be good
if you talked about it, maybe...

No. There are other people involved.

- You're afraid of something, of someone.
- I really don't want to talk about it.

Okay, okay, okay. Okay. Look, I'm sorry.

Maybe I shouldn't be bringing this up
while your head is pounding, but...

I can't possibly know
what you've been going through.

And I'm not trying to be insensitive here,
it's just...

I found your finger on my kitchen floor.
No blood, nothing, it... Just the finger.

I should have told you before, but I didn't,

and now I don't know what to do because

I lost it.

Oh, God!

Oh, my God. You lost it. You lost it?

And she was out like that,
lying on the back seat?

And she kicked you in the balls?

- Oh, boy.
- It's not funny.

Great, thanks for the vote of confidence.

All I'm saying is, if she didn't like you,
she wouldn't have kneed you like that.

This is common knowledge.

If she just walked away,
then you'd be in trouble.

Oh, then, how about I punch you in the face
to show you how much I care about you?

It's not the same thing.
You surprised her, that's all.

Yeah, you know,
she did buy you an expensive gift.

I mean, that must mean something.

You should write a letter,
tell her how you feel.

You know, she might have thought
you were making fun of her.

You don't know anything
about her past relationships.

How does she afford
an expensive book like that, anyway?

I don't know, she doesn't even have
much furniture in her apartment.

Well, what does she do, I mean,
what does she do for a living?

You know what she does for a living, right?

She's...

Shit. You guys really became close,
didn't you?

What the hell's that supposed
to do for you, anyways?

It clears the head.

This woman at Franklin Electronics where
I've been working, she told me about it.

- Your boyfriend's a real loser.
- I know.

Okay, so maybe the drug addict
doesn't come alone.

It's Cheryl's brother, and he tells her
he wants to pick something up at a friend's.

He thinks my neighbors will be more likely
to spot him a bag if she's with him.

My neighbors are fucking around
in my place, stashing drugs or something.

They hear a knock at their door,
peak out and see it's the addict.

Hello there.

He owes them a shitload of money,

and as soon as he says he wants them to
front another bag, they start beating him up.

Maybe you can pay another way.

They drag him and Cheryl
into my kitchen.

They spread Cheryl's hand out on the sink,

and then dangle a bag of coke
in front of the guy,

and tell him that they'll give it to him
if he cuts off her finger.

The brother sweats it for a second,

but he's really fucked up with desperation
and he does it.

He chops off her finger.

A little gift to remember us by.

Move it.

No, that's stupid.

- Wiley Roth?
- Yeah.

- You put in a call about a finger?
- Yeah, over a week ago.

So, when exactly did you lose this finger?

No, I found a finger.

Well, we were told you lost a finger.

Well, I didn't.

Can we have a look at it?

See that's... Yeah, that's the thing.
I... Kind of funny, but...

Or sad, or funny-sad, but I...
The other day I lost it.

Oh, man.

- You lost it?
- Yeah.

- Where'd you first see the finger?
- On my kitchen floor.

Uh-huh.

And have you noticed any other
disturbances in the apartment since then,

items missing or...

Oh, God.

You know, I'd...

I just want to forget about this, I think.

Yeah, yeah, yeah,
I don't have the finger anymore, you know.

I don't want to file any reports or anything,
everything's fine now.

No other disturbances or anything, so...

You called us
and now you want us to drop it?

Yeah.

All right.

Next time you find someone's finger,
you hold on to it till we get here, all right?

Officer Bill, Officer Fred.

I'd pretty much already resigned myself

to, like, another month
without a boyfriend, and then,

Mitch.

If I'd known working here
would be good for my personal life,

I would have started sooner.

Yeah.

Oh, don't be so glum.

You and Cheryl will make up.
She's not going to just disappear like that.

I don't know, she's been doing
a pretty good job of it lately.

Well, she'll at least get in touch with you

and tell you why she was so angry.

Sorry.

Sorry.

Excuse me.

See you both tomorrow.
Not one minute after 10:00.

Hi.

I got your letter.

I didn't make that stuff up
about finding your finger.

I'm pretty positive it was yours, okay?

Maybe I should have told you
that I had it when we first met,

but I didn't, I don't know why.

And then it fell out of my pocket
and I haven't been able to find it.

I believe you.

I don't know how my finger ended up
on your kitchen floor, Wiley.

Really I don't.

And I'm sorry I kicked you,

but I'm not used to this,
I'm really not used to this.

I've been trying to teach myself
how to cook,

and I was trying to make
this spicy fish pasta sauce,

and it's really hard to cut raw monkfish
into one-inch chunks, you know?

And I got frustrated,
so I just started stabbing the stupid fish,

and the next thing I knew,
there was just blood squirting out

from where my finger used to be.

And I guess the people next door
heard me screaming and I fainted.

And when I woke up, I was in the hospital.

And the doctor said that no one
had been able to find my finger.

Funny, huh?

I have no trouble keeping track of earrings
and little things like that,

but when it comes to big important things,

like not cutting off
my own clumsy, stupid fingers

or not losing them if I do,

I always goof stuff like that up.

And I'm not used to developing
feelings like this.

I mean, usually, I lose interest
in a guy within 24 hours.

But you didn't try to impress me
and I guess that impresses me.

- But how did you end up at that party?
- At Sue's, you mean?

Oh.

You were just interested in me
because you saw,

you know...

No.

No, I was interested in you
before I even knew.

I'm glad.

I just wish we could let
everything else fall away

and be two people who are starting
to care about each other.

Two people who lose themselves
in each other's company,

even if it's just for a little while.

We can.

Will you stop making that face?

She said she didn't know how it got here.

Why would she lie?

She finally told you
how she cut the thing off.

You don't want to believe her about that?

Even you said it was funny
that she was at that party,

that we just happened to meet
only a few days after I found her finger.

I mean, what are the odds of that?

You over-think things.

Hey, before the whole
knee-in-the-testicles extravaganza,

she said, "Other people were involved."

But there were no other people
in her monkfish story.

You are fucked up.
And I thought you liked her.

I do. It's just...

I want to show you something.

What, you want me to read to you?

That. You see that?

It's blood. I noticed it this morning.

She told me that that book
was in mint condition.

All right, what is blood doing
on a mint-condition book?

Mmm.

Maybe it's blood, maybe it isn't.
It kind of looks like coffee.

I say, forget this stuff, right?

How you met was a little ookie. So what?

You guys are getting along now,
which means that she's...

She's probably given up on her finger
and told you to forget the damn thing...

- No...
- I'm speaking.

Thank you.

She told you to forget the thing, huh?

Loves a-brewing, He-Man.

Run with that.

And drop the Kojak shit.

No way, no way. It's not just some
coincidence that I met her at that party.

No, maybe it's fate.

- Gin.
- What?

This morning, I decided to give up
on theories and guesswork once and for all.

Kojak never found a raccoon head
in his neighbor's trash.

What the hell?

These guys were up to no good.

If I was going to help Cheryl,
find out why she was so afraid,

I had to know
what the neighbors had on her.

I overhead them talking about a drop off
or something.

...fucking fry your ass! Let's go.

Sounded suspicious,
so I tailed them.

Close, but not too close.

Stealthy, but not too stealthy.

They were completely clueless
I was onto them.

That's when they came,
unwittingly running interference.

Keep going. Keep going.

Come... Come on! Oh, God damn it!

Okay, so I wasn't the politest guy
in the world,

said some things I shouldn't have.

But those authority figures
in their orange bibs,

they know how to put an end
to a guy's surveillance.

Kojak was a dick.

Hey.

- What happened to your eye?
- What?

What happened to your eye?

- Nothing.
- Wow.

Here, put this on.

You just happen to have an eye patch
in your pocket?

It'll keep bacteria from getting in there.

No, there is no way
that I am putting that on.

Shut up.

Oh, yeah.

Mmm-hmm.

- What's the TV for?
- What?

What is the TV for?

I feel bad about the other day,
laughing at you like that.

I should have been more supportive.

This old girl means a lot to me,

and whether you want to admit it or not,
you are my son.

I'm going to give it to you.

I'm going to give it you.

You'll die without it.

Maybe.

- This is new.
- I found that in my neighbor's trash.

You were digging in people's trash?

Great. That's tremendous.

You had an eye patch
and a nose plug.

Glass eye.

Add that to your collection.

Cable would be nice.

You don't have to tell me
what happened if you don't want to.

Hey, I started rereading
Breakfast at Tiffany's.

Yeah?

Why do you keep checking
to see what time it is?

Oh, do I?

I have something for you.

- That isn't...
- Yeah.

- That?
- Yeah. I found it again.

It doesn't look like mine.

I got to go.

- Wait... No, wait, wait, wait.
- I can't. I'm late. I'll call you later.

"Soy lecithin, lanolin" it's artificial flavor,

"hazelnut paste, corn syrup,

"egg white, yellow number 5."

Yellow number 5? The thing was brown.

Mitch, there is something I need to...

Well, I don't know
how I'm going to explain this, really.

I was in a weird mood and, well,

I guess I was missing Cheryl...

Or, well, no, not just her, but that kind of

companionship, yeah, and...

If this is about you kissing Ann,
I already know, forget it.

She told you?

No.

I had a hunch and you fell for my trap,
you son of a bitch!

I'm kidding.

Yeah, she told me.

You know, we have a relationship
based on trust, honesty,

mutual respect, a willingness
to allow each other time alone, me time,

unencumbered by
jealousies and suspicions.

It's kind of like you and Cheryl.

What did she say? Ann, I mean.

Nothing, just said it was sort of an accident.

It was.

Right, so forget about it.

Ooh.

Better check it out.

Okay, get down. Get down.
Stay down. Just get down!

- Is that her?
- Yes, it's her, get down.

- That's her? That's her? She's hot.
- Yes, I know, get down!

- I'm getting down.
- Stay down!

- Why are we both down?
- Because...

- She doesn't even know who I am.
- It doesn't matter, stay down!

- What's happening?
- She's leaving.

Okay, let's go, get up, get up.
Let's go. All right.

- I can't believe you lost them.
- I'm telling you, they turned down here.

All you had to do was keep an eye
on a big car, a big shiny car.

- How hard was that?
- I was watching the car.

- A lot of cars on the road look like that car.
- That is a lame excuse.

Just keep your eyes peeled, okay?
Look over there.

Right there, right there. See?

It did go that way.

I think somebody owes
somebody an apology.

All right.
I'm going to check it out, you stay here.

Get his legs! Get his legs! His legs!

Fuck me!

Hey. Where is your shoe?

Where the hell did you disappear to?

Your girlfriend and her buddies
piled into their car and took off.

You didn't come out, so I followed them.

Did you ever think
that I could have been in trouble,

- that I could have used your help?
- No.

Yeah, well, I got mugged
by a couple of homeless guys!

And they wanted your shoe?

So?

So, they dropped one of the guys off
at some little store on Pico,

Woodsman Bob's.

I would have kept following them,

but they started zigzagging
all over the place and I lost them.

You think they knew
that you were following them?

I wasn't tailgating them.

I wasn't.

All right, whatever. Get out.
We're going to Woodsman Bob's.

Think you might want
to freshen up a bit first?

In case, you know,
you have a moment with your girl.

Okay, just...

- Hello?
- Hey.

God, Dad, what are you doing here?

- Thought I'd exercise the TV a little.
- It really stinks in here.

- Why does it stink in here?
- You get used to it.

How did you get in here?
You don't have a key.

Window. Came up the tree.

I guess it just takes a while
for the stench to go away or something.

I'm going to change.

So, how are you this fine day, Mr. Roth?

The world is a better place
when you don't speak, Mitchell.

Okay, ready.

- Where are you kids off to?
- Nowhere.

Uh-huh.

Gopher's in the hole, is she?

The fox is in the tree.
The rooster's in the roost.

- What?
- The Indian's up the creek without a paddle

- and there's a hole in the boat.
- Okay, what are you talking about?

I'm coming with you.
Come on, it'll be like the Rockford Files.

- Oh, Jesus.
- Well, I told her I'd meet her for lunch.

I can't believe I stopped.

- Fine. You guys go and just leave me here...
- I would like to.

...but I got to meet her,
there's no way I'm standing her up.

This is...

Hey!

Oh!

Can we please go now? Please.

- Ever been hit by lightning?
- Excuse me?

Lightning, you ever been hit by it?

- No.
- I've been hit twice. Lucky though.

My son Rudy, he was working on a truck
in the back of the place one time.

Not a single drop of rain in sight,
no sign of a storm cloud anywhere.

And down comes a bolt of lightning
and chars him black as coal.

Come inside. We got more stuff in the back.

How much for the yak?

Not selling that.

That's the first animal Rudy ever caught.
First stuffing job, too.

Okay.

This warthog.

That's a fair price.

- That's Brody.
- I'm sorry?

That's Brody, good friend of mine.

Well, this is quite the establishment
you have here.

It's very homey. I...

Nice workbench and...

He's a big fellow.

It's... Well, it's...

It's just very nice.

- You looking at something?
- What?

I said, are you staring at me,
you son of a bitch?

Because no one comes in here
and gawks at me,

you eye-patch wearing,
puss-fucking son of a whore.

Oh, my God. No!

This son of a bitch thinks I'm funny looking.

Nobody thinks you're funny looking, Bob.
Now, put that down.

Are you supposed to be
a pirate or something?

No.

Wouldn't have thought
you were interested in taxidermy.

- You know this guy?
- Yeah, he lives in my building.

- What the hell is he doing in here?
- Well, it's my father's birthday next week

and I was just...

No! Give me the shotgun.
Let go of the gun, Bob.

You shouldn't have come.

- You son of a bitch!
- We got to go, this way. This way, come on.

Where?

This way, this way.
Let's go, time to go, time to go!

Come on, Dad, pick up the pace,
pick up the pace!

Well, we have to wait for Mitch.

Wait for... Where is he?
Where the hell did he go?

He wanted to get some beer.

Hi, I'm Wiley's dad,
I've heard a lot about you.

Hi.

It is nice to finally meet you.
I'm Ann, I work with Wiley.

Can we skip the pleasantries for now?

Oh.

Hey, this must be the infamous Cheryl.

I'm Mitch. Do you want a beer?

Can we just go, already?

- Sure. Where to?
- Anywhere, just go!

- Why are we stopping?
- End of the road.

Corn dogs.
Who wants a corn dog?

Dog me.

Hot stuff.

Wiley, you have to eat something.

You get your own.

Did you see that? One. Thank you.

You could have told me you knew
the guy in my building.

You could have told me that.

No, I couldn't. Really.

Well, of course, you could,
what are you talking about?

- Wiley.
- I don't understand.

Sorry.

Why not? You didn't have to lie,

you didn't have to say you had no idea
how your finger got into my place.

I wasn't lying.

- Hey.
- Do you expect me to believe you?

- You didn't have to do that.
- I think I did.

Do you expect me to believe some story
about pasta sauce

when you never said a single word
about knowing my neighbor?

Are you laughing at me, Mitchell?

No, no, no, no, I'm...

- I'm celebrating your idiosyncrasies.
- Wiley, enough.

Well, here, let me help you celebrate.

All that stuff
about developing feelings for me,

I guess that was just bullshit, too, huh?

That was just your way
of keeping tabs on me

while you and that guy used my apartment.

What are you talking about?
How could we use your apartment?

What am I doing here if it was just bullshit?

Look, you haven't been any better,
you know.

Instead of coming right out
and saying you found my finger,

you asked all kinds of
coy little questions and...

Well, I told you, I didn't know what to say,
for Christ's sakes.

I didn't know that you...

Yeah, you were too busy being suspicious
to think I might want it back.

I mean, God,
we had this nice, quiet little moment,

and you tell me you care about me and
it has nothing to do with my missing finger.

And then, God, you ruin it by tailing us.

Did you think we couldn't see you?
You were practically glowing.

So, we both fucked up. Great, I'm glad
we got that straightened out. Now what?

Help.

Look, I don't care what's going on, all right?

I'm not going to do anything about it
or pass judgment.

I just want to know the truth.

I have to know the truth.

Books.

- What?
- We smuggle rare and valuable books.

Cultural artifacts, basically.

You're smuggling books.

You're telling me that Bob guy can read.
No way. All right?

Who the hell cares about books,
for Christ's sake?

Oh, you'd be surprised, people pay a ton
for this stuff on the black market.

Well, we've got a network of buyers.
Someone wants a particular item,

we steal it from a museum
or a private collection,

it doesn't matter where in the world it is.
And then we smuggle it here,

stuffed in lizards, armadillos,
jack rabbits, whatever.

Books?

Since I'm being so honest,
that stuff I told you about monkfish

and how I cut off my finger trying to cook,
it was only sort of true.

I wasn't cooking,

I was at Bob's trying to wrestle
Breakfast at Tiffany's out of an armadillo.

We went to the warehouse
to pick up the latest shipment,

which is where we always meet the guys
who smuggle in the stuff.

We were expecting some Joyce from
the British Museum, some Dostoevsky,

the Capote armadillo, a Virginia Woolf boar.

Everything looked fine, so we brought
the stuff back to Woodsman Bob's

and I started to cut open the animals.

I was having a hard time
with that stupid armadillo.

Its skin was like armor, you know?

I turned on the power saw,
which was really kind of dumb,

'cause I could have ruined the book.

Next thing I knew, blood was pumping out
from where my finger used to be.

I went into shock,
seeing all that blood and junk.

Bob was worried about the cops showing up
because I'd been screaming,

so he and Jimmy,
the guy who lives in your building,

they emptied the place, and Jimmy brought
everything to his apartment for safekeeping.

An ambulance finally came
and took me to the hospital,

but we never found my finger.

I was pretty pissed,
it's not like I could just grow another one.

But how did it end up in my place?
That's what...

I don't know. It was lost.

Maybe it got mixed up with everything
Jimmy brought back to his apartment,

and then, I don't know.

What does it matter, Wiley?

I care for you.

And there's this all this other stuff,
please don't ask me about it anymore, okay?

I really do care for you,

and if you don't believe anything else
I've said, please believe that.

I need you to take me back to the shop.

You shouldn't turn yourself in because of
some fucked up loyalty to Bob and Jimmy.

They wouldn't do it for you,
and what good's it going to do anybody?

Bob's my father.

Excuse me?

Bob's my father.

Bob with the eyes?
Bob, the l-stuff-my-pets Bob?

What about him being electrocuted,
you running away, all that?

I lied.

Look, I can't desert him.

Would you desert your dad if you thought
you might be able to help him?

Well...

Yeah.

My finger.

It's not going to do me much good anymore.

I want you to have it,
you know, to remember me by.

It was nice meeting you.

- What is...
- We got cable.

Oh, you do important work, sir.

Vital community service.

Oh, please, you keep it.

... change your life.

Because life is like a journey,
and we must travel that journey.

And we travel continuously, all the way...

- Quit the bookstore today.
- Oh?

- Is that all you have to say?
- No.

That's great you quit the bookstore.
I'm very proud.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet.
I want to explore some options.

I quit. It's a beginning.

Luther in my building
has a daughter about your age.

She had her left hand bitten off
by a leopard at the LA Zoo.

Yeah? And?

If you're interested,
I could arrange something.

- Yeah, well, thanks, but I'm not interested.
- No pressure.

I'm not interested, Dad.

Cheese?

Thanks.

Hey.

What's that?

Oh, yeah, job interview at a temp agency.

I wonder what variety of felon
we'll get in Jimmy's place next.

Oh, yeah.

- Got to go.
- Good luck, suit boy.

I'm glad that things
between the two of you are going well.

Thanks. Me, too.

Hmm?

Don't give me that face.
This is an official Jai-alai uniform.

Sport of the future.

Bunch of the publishing guys started their
own league, so thought I'd give it a shot.

Okay.

Hey, now that you got all this free time
on your hands, you should...

You should take up a sport,
some kind of hobby.

Jai-alai. Anything so long as
it keeps you away from that

private investigation,
whatever you want to call it,

because you really suck at that.

On that friendly note,
have fun, don't kill yourself.

Dad and I were watching this
talk show about relationships the other day.

The psychologist
asked the studio audience

why love was often accompanied
by restlessness, fear and doubt.

Nobody in the audience said anything.

And the psychologist
never answered the question.

I don't watch talk shows too often.

I don't know if it was fate
or just coincidence that I met Cheryl.

And anyways, I'm not sure
I really know what the difference is,

it probably doesn't matter.

I think she knows
how her finger got into my place.

One day, I'll be sitting here,
minding my own business,

and there'll be a knock at the door
and it'll be her,

all ready to fill in that last remaining blank
and tell me what happened.

But by then, I'll care less about the truth.

I'll be used to the silences, the unanswered
questions in the middle of my every day.

By then, I'll just want to be with her.