All language subtitles for Sexy Evil Genius 2013 720p WEB-DL DD5.1 H264-NGB-English

♪ Intriguing, insightful

♪ the view from your eyes ♪

♪ intrepid, delightful

♪ a clever surprise

♪ some win, some lose ♪

♪ all is fair in the game

♪ a chance to take

♪ roll the dice

♪ fan the flame

♪ in what world do you think ♪

♪ for the price of a drink ♪

♪ that I'd care?

♪ There's much more to this scene ♪

♪ than just living the dream
if you dare... ♪

- Thanks for your help.
- You're good.

Make sure you tell the detectives

that I'm willing to testify

and I definitely wanna press charges.

Look, I don't know what happened.

It went really fast.

Are they gonna live?

♪ Time

♪ is on my side...

Hey, lonely guy.

Uh... sorry.
I'm meeting someone.

Yeah, me, too.
Nikki franklyn.

You, too?
Really?

Is that surprising?

Uh, yeah, kind of.

- Um, I'm Zachary.
- Of course.

Zachary Newman.
Figured.

You're the High School guy, her first true love.

I've heard a lot about you.

Uh, yeah.

I guess--
that was us.

She broke up with you
at the waffle shack after prom.

Cried so hard you puked
all over her shoes.

- Blueberry pancakes.
- Hmm.

Yeah.
Not my finest hour.

I'm Miranda.

- May I?
- Yeah.

Have a seat.

It's typical Nikki-- late.
She said 8:00.

I got a call from Nikki.

It's the first time I had heard
from her in a decade.

She said she's in town and wants to meet up.

I guess I'm not the only one
she wanted to catch up with.

We stayed in touch, you know,
after the pancake incident.

She said she wanted to go
on a trek to find herself.

Uh, timbuktu, I think.

- Kathmandu.
- Yeah, that's it. Yeah.

That's the last time we spoke.

Where did you two meet?

Narcotics anonymous.

Oh. Uh...

What, you and Nikki, like,
smoked a ton of pot together?

- Cocaine?
- Heroin.

Wow.
Nikki and heroin.

Yeah.

- With needles?
- Yep.

I just can't imagine her doing that.

I mean, maybe smoking it, I guess, but...

She always was so adventurous.

When we met
she was a mess--

close to death and so was I.

We saved each other.

We were lovers.

Does that shock you?

No, you're very beautiful.

I just-- I'm still reeling
over the whole heroin thing.

- Should we get a table?
- Sure.

Hi, guys. I'm Abby.
I'm gonna be your server.

So just let me know if you need
any other drinks or anything.

Absinthe.

Okay.

Isn't that highly alcoholic?

I'm a junkie, not a drunk.

Can I have another Martini,
five bleu cheese olives?

Okay.

Is that a drink or a salad?

Mm, it's both.

I raced over here from work.
I forgot to eat all day.

You know it's not healthy to work that hard.

I know.

I know.

- What do you do?
- Sales.

- Do you like it?
- I hate it, really.

- Do you have kids?
- No.

- Married?
- Nope.

So why the fuck don't you quit?

- And do what?
- Whatever floats your boat.

I'm not sure what that is.

Well, clearly there's your problem right there.

Gosh, talking to you really
reminds me of talking to Nikki--

just right to the big, heavy stuff,

no kidding around.

- What?
- No, nothing.

You're kind of cute eating your salad.

See, this is why I never go to bars.

The only girls who think I'm cute are lesbian.

Or lesbians?

I don't know--
what's the plural of that word?

I'm bi.

Great.
I feel half better.

So when did you last see Nikki?

I will fucking kill you!

Six years ago.

- Is that when you broke up?
- Yeah.

But then after a while,
we started talking again.

Just a phone call or two every few months.

And then one day, I get
a collect call from Nikki from jail.

- Jail?
- Well, not exactly.

It was a mental hospital
for the criminally insane.

What was she doing there?

Murder?

Nikki killed somebody?

It was her boyfriend.

She poisoned him with arsenic.

Said she got off by reason of insanity.

Arsenic?

Look, Nikki's a lot of crazy things,

but she's not literally crazy.

At least not how I remember her.

But don't you think
she'd be great at acting crazy?

Yeah. Yes.

I used to call her my sexy evil genius,

because she was--
a genius.

Test scores off the charts.

Oh, thanks.

Thanks.

Nikki said she'd call me when
she got released from the hospital.

I didn't realize it would
only be three years later.

This is bizarre.

I mean, not just hearing
her post-me life story,

but you and me here now and her so late?

- It's deliberate.
- What do you mean?

Nikki's never on time for anything.

No, I mean I think that she wanted us to meet

before she got here to get acquainted.

- You and me?
- Mm-hmm.

- Why?
- So you can blow my mind

with the ripping yarn of her life story?

You're probably right.

Is this the franklyn party?

- Yeah.
- So there are more of us.

Miranda.

Marvin Coolidge.
A pleasure.

- Zach.
- What's up, dude?

Nikki told me to look for a goth babe

with an uptight
suit-and-tie guy.

- She on the money.
- She called me uptight?

Hey, don't sweat it, Zach, man.

I'm sure you're a cool
fuckin' dude on the inside, right?

I don't think I am.

Hey, baby, could I--
could I get a chivas, rocks?

Listen, I haven't talked to Nikki in,
like, five years and change and...

- - Out of the blue...

What's up?
Nikki.

Oh, shit.

What's this gathering all about?

- We don't know.
- Nikki's late.

No, she's not late.
She said 8:30.

She got, like, you know, three minutes.

She said 8:00, right?

I guess she did want us to meet.

Wait a second.

I know what this is all about.

- What?
- A new band.

- A band?
- What do you guys play?

Don't tell me, you are an axe man, right?

Bass?

- Keys?
- Oh, I get it.

You were in the jazz band Nikki told me about.

Yeah, the rebops.

- What instrument do you play?
- Vibes.

- What's vibes?
- Xylophone, man.

Me and Nikki had this sweet
musical groovegoing for a while.

You know that girl is like
Bruce Lee on the bongos, right?

Yep, that's how we met--
a drum circle on venice beach.

Blew me away, man.

- Really?
- We hooked up.

She put our band together.

This is not about a new band?

All I play is the radio.

I-- I mean, I can
barely work my iPod.

Okay.

It's about something else.

- How well do you know Nikki?
- As well as anybody.

You know, we lived together for five months.

Oh, were you, like, roommates?

No, man. We were--
we were deep in it.

What's d-- uh...

They were fucking.

Oh.

Yeah. I mean,
I get it.

So hold up, you--
you're an ex, too.

- Ex numero uno.
- Holy shit.

You're the guy who threw up
on her shoes at the waffle shack.

- Don't go! No, no, please.
- Holy shit.

- She tell everyone that story?
- I think so.

Wow. Well, we all have
one thing in common.

What's that?

No-- you and Nikki?

Deep in it.

Ooh.

- Damn, girl.
- And did you know

that Nikki was recently released
from an insane asylum

because she killed a guy?

- What?
- Yeah.

Her boyfriend at the time.

- Bullshit.
- Not.

Nikki told me herself.
I just told Zach.

Wait, she killed a guy?

Damn, now I need this.

Wait, how is she even out?

Not guilty by reason of insanity.

Why does that hardly surprise me?

Everything
the girl does, man--

the secrets, the games, this tonight,

anonymous gathering
of ex-lovers.

- Who does this?
- I mean, she calls

for the first time in years
and what do each of us do?

Drop everything, absolutely no questions
asked, to show up at this bar.

- We're devotees.
- No, suckers, man.

I remember one time, we were 16

and this punk band from Japan
that Nikki worships,

the go go zombies,
are playing at the roxy.

But it's 21 and over to get in,
so we need fake I.D.S.

First we go to macarthur park
and we find these gangbangers

who say that
they could hook us up.

But, like idiots, as soon
as we showed them our money...

So now we've got no I.D.S

and no money to even buy tickets,
but Nikki won't give up.

- No, she never gives up.
- Never ever.

She makes me drive to the roxy way early

and wait until the band shows up.

All right, we're here, but I'm telling you,

they're never gonna
let us in without I.D.S.

Trust me, this is gonna work.
Take this.

- And then she attacks them...
- Comrades.

...Pretending to be this Russian journalist.

We come all the way from moscow to see

go go zombies perform in U.S.A.

- Magazine?
- It's like our russian "Rolling Stone."

Russian "rolling stone"?

"Dah, comrade.

You big go go roxy zombies big.

Tell us American
russkie comrades."

Number one record.

Yeah!

So give, um, samurai!

Yeah. Yeah, yeah.

- Great.
- You take a picture with us.

Da, da.

Good.
Okay, get in close.

Yeah, everyone close together.

Um, maybe not as close.
You come...

So they invite us backstage.

We get to see
the show for free.

But then afterwards, I can't find Nikki anywhere.

She's gone.

I know where this is going, man.

Then the next day, I see her at school.

- Hi.
- Hi.

Where'd you get all those hickeys?

I confront her, but Nikki claims that she can't remember

how she got the hickey necklace...

Because of this drinking game
they played on the bus ride home.

I'm sorry that I made you worry.

I love you, Zachary Newman.

I chose to believe it

because just being
with Nikki was--

is the most fun I've ever had.

I got a story just like that one.

So when the rebops got together,

we couldn't get arrested.

There's maybe five,
six decent joints in this town

that'll even book
a traditional jazz band, right?

Nikki disappears for a few days.

- Disappears.
- Nikki?

Now, I know about her bad habits

and I'm worried, you know, sick that
she might be back on the spike.

No. She returns.
"Hey, baby."

And, oh, by the way, the rebops
have a Saturday night gig

at the grill, the hottest spot in town, the hottest.

We go, we do the damn thing.
Kill it.

The place is packed
and they are feeling us strong.

It's the most intense
experience.

But the whole night,

this manager dude who books the bands

is just staring
at Nikki, drooling.

After the show was over,
this guy comes up

and he's got his hands
all over her.

I get it.

She cut out on me to hang out
with this band manager guy

and that's how we get the gig
in the first place.

♪ Who are you talking to?

♪ Who do you see there in the end? ♪

let me guess--
you forgave her.

I did.

Thanks to her,
the rebop word got out.

Yes, I did. You know,
we were happening, man.

Three gigs a week, real money,
living the dream.

You know, I just put that
problem to the back of my mind,

wrote it off as, you know,
like a sacrifice that she made for us.

Sucker me.

She cuts out.

This...

God, I know that feeling.

Yeah.

Okay, I have a story that beats you both.

When we first met, Nikki and I
were both recovering.

- I'm Nikki.
- Miranda.

Nikki didn't want me to know that she was

this privileged girl
who got stuck on smack

the first time she escaped
her suburban life,

so she created
an entire backstory.

She was a fashion model in Amsterdam,

studied yoga in India.

She was living on some
fucking billionaire's yacht

playing the congas in a salsa band,

except she had to quit that
because of the stalker.

- Oh, that one I heard.
- Bullshit.

No-- look, she was still being
stalked when we were dating.

Really? Did you ever
actually see the guy?

I-- no. Uh,
just pictures, but--

it was all a lie.

And these lies start piling up

and I start
asking questions.

She invites me to this dinner party, right,

to finally meet all the friends
that she talks about

that I haven't met.

There's a guy
from her ashram in India.

There's the dutch couple that knew her
in Amsterdam when she was on the runway

and this funky dude
that played in her salsa band

and this weather-beaten dude
that just sailed into town,

the skipper
on the billionaire's yacht.

I left that dinner party
believing every inch

of that intricate
web of lies Nikki weaved.

A few weeks later,
I was bumming around melrose

and I decided to pop
into that improv theater.

Five of the people at Nikki's dinner party

on the stage.

And those people?

You're all fucking actors.

I looked at pictures of
your children for 20 minutes.

Do you think that was fun for me?
It wasn't.

Nikki hired and directed
a fucking improv troupe?

- - She did.

- Get out.
- Pure evil genius.

- I fell for it hard.
- Let me guess--

you didn't break up with her
that night, did you?

Worse.

What the fuck are you doing here?

You're lucky my landlord didn't shoot you.

Relax.
There's nobody home.

I got your message.

And I wanted to be honest with you,

tell you the truth about me,

something that I actually really do.

Really?
That would be nice.

I'm sorry that I lied to you.

I realized

that I don't wanna lose you.

What do you want from me?

You.

Do you know what else I want?

No?

Company.

Get in the pool.
Please.

That night I let Nikki seduce me

for the very first time.

The lies began your relationship?

- Yep.
- Get out.

I guess it was just, um, so romantic, you know,

that she would wanna
go through all these lengths

to keep up this fantasy world that we built.

- How long did it last?
- 100 days.

Then I had to pull the plug.

I mean, um, I had to-- I had
to get back to real life.

I swear, kicking Nikki was even
fucking harder than kicking heroin.

Well, you're stronger than me and Marvin.

- We both got dumped.
- Look, knowing this, right,

that she's got these mad lying skills,

doesn't that put a little doubt

in this whole insane asylum scenario?

Yeah, I guess, but, I mean, I googled it.

There were case numbers and legal briefs.

I guess you could fake that shit, but why?

Who knows? I mean, with Nikki
the truth was always relative.

I do know one thing--
she got us together

knowing full well we'd be sitting here,

waiting for her, talking about her...

- Right.
- ...And murder.

- -

Whoop, I got a text from Nikki.

- - Oh, so do I.

Yeah, me, three.

"Sorry I'm late.
O.M.G., traffic.

Bring you my next victim.
You guys get cozy.

Talk about my life with the thrill kill kult.

- See you soon."
- That's what mine says, too.

Same.

Next victim?
That sounds ominous.

And she claims she's in a cult.

Man, this is bizarre.

- No way.
- Marvin doesn't know about Nikki and the thrill kills,

the name of Nikki's
all-time favorite band.

- My life with the thrill kill kult.
- Who are they?

Why mention them in a text?

In case you haven't talked about my recent role

as a psycho killer, please, do tell.

Pssh.
Oh, hold on a second.

Ha, figures they'd have
the thrill kills on the jukebox

in the place that Nikki picked to meet.

♪ I live for drugs...

♪ It's great...

Come on, Nikki couldn't stand
this bubble-gum stuff, man.

She could hardly tolerate classic rock.

Marvin, dude, the bubble gummier, the better.

- Mm.
- She didn't just like classic rock;

she loved styx and meat loaf, kiss.

Oh, yeah, any band that wears
leather spandex or spiked wrist bands.

Or performs in their underwear,

furry animal costumes.

She liked tito, the cubans,

bands that came out of harlem in the '40s.

- But this--
- mm-mm.

- Marvin, you got played.
- Like a ping pong ball.

Yo, look, Nikki loves jazz, man.

I'm telling you people facts.

You just don't know her like I do.

Nikki used to say that jazz
was fun, camp, kitsch.

Kitsch? Oh, hell no.
She didn't say that.

- She never said that.
- Yeah, she did.

- You're telling me my whole relationship--
- predicated on a lie.

Just like her fucking tale about the stalker.

Okay, you know what?
Musical taste, one thing.

But the whole stalker thing--
I got you both on that one.

You know what?
I can prove it.

She showed me his mug shot
on the national stalker registry

right next to her official
police restraining order.

His name is Mark something.

- You know, I bet you it's still posted.
- Drinks?

- Yes.
- Sure.

- Yeah, all around.
- It's almost 9:00.

I'm on my third Martini with no dinner.

- Amateur.
- And you're what, a pro?

I'm an all-star, junior.

Got him.
Creepy dude.

His name is Mark Von Dutch.

Nikki told me if I ever saw this cat
to call the cops, emergency.

He looks like a movie star, but demented.

- Oh, my God.
- What?

- That's the guy she killed.
- What? Wait, how you know that?

She sent me a photo of them together after we broke up--

her new handsome love.
She probably fuckin' tried to make me jealous.

Anyone else here a little freaked out right now?

I'm intrigued.

Okay, you knew about this whole
homicide thing beforehand.

She even sent you a damn photo.

And you showed up anyway
because you're intrigued?

I am.

To see your friend who kills dudes.

What kind of ghoul does that make you?

A sexy one.

- Nikki.
- Drinks anyone?

I mugged the waitress
on the way over.

- You look awesome.
- Thanks, stud.

Wow.

Let's see.

Rotgut, rocks.

Must be Marvin "jazz man" Coolidge.

You got that right, bongo girl.

Absinthe...

For the sexy ghoul.

Thank you.

And a Martini with
a billion zillion olives--

that has got to be you, Zachary Newman.

I skipped dinner.

- And that leaves sprite for me.
- Sprite?

- What about your signature vodka gimlet?
- Not tonight.

I wanna keep my wits about me

in case something horrifying and crazy happens.

Like what?

I'm surprised you haven't
figured it out yet, Miranda.

You could always see through me
with those gorgeous X-ray eyes.

- It's a compliment.
- How about just an answer?

Come on, where's the fun in that?

I've gathered you all here for a reason,

which will become obvious in a moment.

There's no use rushing me.

Did you tell Marvin that I'm uptight?

Yes, I did, because you are.

But it works for you, Zach.

It's part of your extreme cute lovability.

Am I right?

I've already told him he's cute.

Miranda likes nerds.
She's into geek chic.

I'm not a nerd or a geek or whatever.

Hey, Zach, man, chill.
Just own it.

Who's the beer and the sidecar for?

- Bert.
- Bert?

- He's parking.
- Who's Bert?

My lawyer... and lover.

And next victim.

Gotcha.

I knew you guys would get hung up on that.

Drumroll, please.

Nobody?

Okay.

He's my fiance.

- You're getting married?
- To your criminal lawyer?

Honey, I only have one lawyer.

Isn't that a conflict of interest
or a major ethical breach?

My life was in his hands.

He saved it.

There's no feeling more intense.

We're mad for each other.

He's my everything.

Well, woe be he...
Or she

who falls in love
with Nikki franklyn.

I'll drink to that.

It is so amazing

to see you guys.

I've missed you.

So this whole night is about bringing

your present lover to your past.

Bert's curious about you guys.

I think he thinks you're all
just figments of my imagination.

Nikki, there's this homicide rumor thing

that we've been hearing about.

Uh, what's funny?
That's serious.

Zach is so squeamish bringing up the subject.

I'm sorry.

I want to talk about it, clear the air.

Okay, is that him, the stalker?

Yeah, that's him.
That's Mark.

Nikki, why were you with this guy?

I was insane.

Is that true?

I was certified.

If either of you lame-brains
bothered to Google me,

- you would've read all about it.
- Nik!

Nik? He calls you Nik?

In High School she keyed our
teacher's car for calling her Nik.

She poured a pot of burning hot coffee

in a guy's face in rehab
for calling her Nik.

That last fool I heard
call you Nik got a broken nose.

People change.

There you are.

So, hey, these are your friends.

Bert, Zach, Marvin and Miranda.

A pleasure to meet you.

Nik just kept insisting
that we all get together.

I'm sure.

Yeah. Uh, hi.

Hey, a sidecar.

Good girl.

A toast to old friends and new,

and to the most beautiful woman I've ever known.

Bottom's up.

Hey, let me guess--

let me guess--

I bet you you're the guy
that puked on her prom shoes.

I love you so much.

That would be me.
Or uptight guys works, too, I guess.

And you're the jazz guy
who wears the kitschy clothes.

I'm not kitschy or kitsch anything.

I'm vintage, Bert.

It was a compliment.
And you--

you're the attorney who fucks his desperate,
insane, criminal clients.

Guilty as charged.

You're right, baby, she does have fangs.

You can't always control

who you fall in love with, Miranda.

Mature people do.

She had plenty of control, believe me.

I'm the one who lost it.

In 20 years of practice,

Nik is the only client
who ever stole my heart.

Nikki doesn't steal hearts, she eats them.

How do we even
know you're--

you know, you're not another actor,

you know, part of Nikki's next elaborate scheme?

- It's a good question.
- Yeah.

It's true, I am a notorious,
habitual, elaborate schemer.

- Who else would I be?
- Anybody.

We don't know Nikki's real reason
for bringing us all here tonight.

I doubt it's just to make
your acquaintance.

Maybe you're just here to back up her next tall tale.

Yeah. How do we know
that you're you?

Jesus, what the hell

have you done to these people?

Magic.

Okay.

I can't believe I'm actually doing this.

Here's my driver's license,

my California bar card

and my black belt certification in karate.

Don't you mess with me.

I guess you're legit.

Or at least have high-quality
forged identification.

You're screwing your lawyer.

You make it sound so glamorous.

Well, what happened?

I mean, not with you and Bert,
but with the murder.

Yeah, and the insanity thing.

- Well, you should know, Marvin.
- I should know?

I told you that my stalker
showed up at our last gig.

- Where?
- He's right there.

- I--
- You thought you saw that dude dozens of times.

I never did.

It's a common symptom
of her psychosis-- paranoia.

Okay, so how do you know the last time was real,

not just paranoia barking?

Because he wouldn't go away.

He kept showing up--
at the local coffee shop,

our rehearsal space,
when I was out for a run.

I couldn't shake him.

He wouldn't even
say anything.

He just stood there, staring at me,

waiting for me
to break the ice.

And you did?

Why didn't you just call the cops?

Because I was feeling lonely.

- Lonely?
- I've heard that before.

For-- for your
freaking stalker?

It's not as nutty as it sounds.

It's quite common, actually.

Although, now I know
that I was completely insane.

I mean, Mark didn't appear out of nowhere.

We dated for almost two years.

If I was gonna ask another person
to be at this table tonight,

this table of people I love,

it would have been him.

So what, you were...
Over me?

I was.

And jazz and the rebops.

I-- my instinct
was to bolt,

just take off,
start fresh somewhere.

So I snuck in your closet

because I knew you kept cash in there,

and I was gonna bankroll my getaway.

And guess what else I found.

What, my nehru jacket?

A thick bindle of fine gold dust.

- No, you didn't.
- I did.

And I shot it and I didn't stop
until I got arrested.

How romantic.

You didn't find any heroin in my closet.

You wanted to go, so you went
and scored some smack.

Don't put that shit on me.

- What about all the hints?
- What hints?

You were going on and on

about all those jazz masters that were hypes,

about how heroin helped creativity.

- Why would I do that?
- To kill my will.

You were afraid
I was gonna leave you.

Wow, Nikki.

I didn't drop any hints

or otherwise recommend you take heroin.

And I didn't know you were
gonna leave me... at all.

Hallucinations and delusions were all
part of her psychosis.

Yeah, well, maybe that explains it.

Yeah.
I was just bonkers.

She told me that story years ago.

I thought she might have imagined it, too.

She was in the height of her mania.

So what?

One day you just decided to poison this guy?

You guys don't understand what it was like.

I mean, Mark and I were junkies.

We only left the house to steal,
scam and buy more drugs.

I mean, Mark was even more paranoid
than I was deranged.

Is this the shrimp flavor?

Chicken.

I like the shrimp flavor.

He wouldn't even let me
out of his sight for five minutes.

He was your stalker.

I was losing days, time,

hopping in and out of places,

blacking out somewhere,
waking up somewhere else.

It was crazy.

This would happen while
I was awake, dreaming--

I couldn't tell
the difference.

One minute I'm in a garage
stealing garden tools,

the next second I'm on
the couch watching tv.

I was skipping around
in time.

Kind of like
in "slaughterhouse-five."

Your-- your favorite book?

It's similar, I guess.

I never really thought of it like that.

Okay, but how did the deed get done?

- I don't really know.
- Get out.

I pop in and all of a sudden,

the cops swarm in
while I met this drug dealer.

I think it's a set-up,
but I'm busted.

But it's just luck
that they found me then.

- Turn around!
- Don't move!

I mean, there are squad cars,

detectives, a helicopter.

They've got an arrest warrant
on me for first-degree murder.

But you have no idea how you killed him?

I don't remember any of it.

Her clinical medical diagnosis
was homicidal mania.

The black-outs,
hallucinations,

delusions, paranoia--
it's all part of it.

Then her violent primitive instinct

for self-preservation
kicks in.

The victim loses control, kills.

Oftentimes they don't remember anything.

And you could sleep in the same bed
with a homicidal maniac?

Aren't you worried about not waking up?

No, no. No, no, no.
Not at all.

Her psychiatrist is a personal friend of mine.

And she's back, 100% normal.

Homicidal mania isn't a
mind-fractured-forever-type deal?

No, no, no.
The illness is gone once the threat's removed.

In some cases like schizophrenics,

you know, there's always a perceived threat,

so oftentimes they can't be cured.

But with Nik, Mark's gone.

No more threat, no more mania.

The diagnosis from your personal friend

was that Nikki serves only three years
in jail for murder.

- It sounds fishy.
- Nik being fit for release

was not just my friend's opinion.

There were two other doctors

and I think seven members

on the hospital
release board.

They were unanimous.

I'm with you
on the insane Nikki--

out of her mind on heroin,

doing daily crimes with psychopath Mark
to keep up their habit,

but how do you know you're cured?

Believe me, Coolidge,
if I wasn't cured, you'd be dead.

I was so mad at you for planting that badness.

- I wanted to kill you.
- I'm gonna say this one more time--

I didn't.

I'm understanding that now,

that I was delusional, but it's moot, really.

- Moot how?
- Because I've already decided to overlook the whole thing.

I really do love you.
We had so many great times.

And I knew that seeing you again,

having a laugh, would be
a triumph over my illness,

that my mania was behind me.

That sounds not insane.

- Still don't believe it.
- Neither do I.

Why not? Aside from
my notorious scheming.

It's like claiming black-out
as your first line of defense.

And the rest of it plays out
like the plot of your favorite book.

I told you they wouldn't believe me.

You know, you two belong together.

- You're both way too skeptical.
- We know you.

Yeah. I mean, you're crazy,
but like a fox.

As they say.

It-- it doesn't matter.

They're just your friends,
not judge and jury, thank God.

You know what really happened.

But I don't.

Really?
Total amnesia?

What's the difference?

It's not like any of our relationships
were based on truth anyway.

- Never.
- Yeah, I guess.

What are you getting at, Miranda?

I'm saying that our relationships

were based on being party
to your crazy adventures.

- They still are.
- Yeah.

I mean, most nights this late

I'm still at the office or home alone,

sitting on the couch, watching tv,

eating a $6 burger,

certainly not tipsy in a bar,

having my mind blown by
the girl who devirginized me.

I'm with Zach.

Let's forget about the past
and focus on your good news.

Oh, yeah, you got away with murder.

- Oh, no, not that.
- No?

- You're over your insanity.
- Thank you.

That's sweet, but that's not
what I was thinking.

What are you driving at, Miranda?

- You're getting married.
- Right.

That is why we're here.

So when's the big day?

Ding ding ding ding ding!
That is the question of the hour.

I have an announcement to make, a humungous one.

You do?

Can we get a bottle of Champagne
with five glasses, please?

Oh, Champagne?
I'm gonna take a cab home.

I thought you're not drinking.

Oh, only one.
This calls for it.

Let's get to the humungous news.

You-- you don't
know the news?

- No clue.
- Well, this should be good.

Here it is.

June the 18th.

What about it?

- Our wedding day.
- It is?

Surprise.

So totally awesome.

I-- I listed our engagement
with "L.A." Magazine

and they wanted a date,

so I picked one nine months away.

It's plenty of time to get our asses
in gear and make it happen.

- That's great.
- Righteous.

You know, I'll go if I'm invited.

Nik, how could you do this?
What-- what are you thinking?

I picked a date.

I mean, you can pick the location.

I know that you wanted to elope
and we can still do that.

- I just figured that we would save--
- that is not the point.

This is a public announcement.

Honey, so is this.

I should have been consulted.

- Why? Does the date not work?
- It's not about the date.

- Well, then what is it?
- Should I open this

or do you guys wanna do the honors yourself?

Do you want me to leave it?

If the partners in my firm see this, I'm done.

Aha!

I'm s-- I'm sorry.

I didn't-- I didn't
have dinner.

You told me that didn't matter.

What I said was that I needed some
more time for this transition.

Okay, and nine months isn't enough?

If my partners see this, I'll be out in a day.

So what?
You hate your partners.

Nik,
it's not that simple.

Dude, I'm sorry.
How well do you know Nikki?

Yeah, this is Nikki 101.

She wants something, you don't want it,

she'll pull some stunt that makes
everything work out her way anyway.

"Blonde with lobotomy eyes."

A "black magic panther
who gets what she's after!"

I need some food.

What the hell are they talking about?

"Blonde with lobotomy eyes"
is a title of a thrill kill kult song,

but they're right.

How long
do we have to wait?

Can we talk about this later?

Now's good.
We have Champagne.

My best, oldest friends gathered to celebrate.

- This is a set-up.
- Uh-huh.

- It's just-- it's not for us.
- Mm-mm.

Man, do I feel like an ass.

Here I was, thinking this was about a new band.

You're the sucker, Bert.

Nikki's invited us here to pressure you

into committing to marriage.

She's put you on the spot.

- Yeah, Bert, why won't you give her a date?
- Yeah.

They're on my side, darling.

Maybe this homicidal mania

really does bother you after all.

Or maybe you're just a scummy guy

who takes advantage of beautiful
women in emotional distress.

Oh, which one is it, Bert?

Cold feet or a cold, cold heart.

Perhaps I don't like
discussing our private matters

with people that, quite frankly,
I don't know very well.

Is that all that sinister?

- But these people know me.
- Yeah, I'm with Miranda.

I actually think it's the murder
thing that bugs you,

'cause she could snap.
You'd be next.

- - What I think, too.
Yeah.

I think
we're reassurance.

The three of us are here to prove

that Nikki doesn't murder
everyone she sleeps with.

- That's--
- mm-hmm.

You don't have those mortality issues,
do you, Bert?

- No, no.
- Then what is it?

You want a date, baby, Hmm?

That's it.

Or that's it.

So what was it?
June 18th, right?

June the 18th of next year.

Well, then, that is the day
that we shall be married.

Do you mean that?

Yes, baby, I do I mean it.

So... that's--
that's not happening.

- No way.
- Yeah, that's better off.

- Let's do it! Yeah!
- I love you so much!

Till death do...

Mm, us... part.

- It might not be that long.
- Yeah. See? Mania.

- Hey, congrats, man.
- Yeah.

That's--

I am so excited.

I love you, baby.

Whoa!

Oh!

So I will admit that I had a hidden agenda,

but getting Bert to come around
wasn't the only one.

Also, since the day I met Miranda...

I have always thought that she would be

perfect with Zach.

- What?
- Aah!

So this is like a psychotronic
episode of "Blind Date"?

Feels that way.

Seriously, you guys, thank you for coming.

To what could have been my funeral.

Whoa, whoa.
Come again?

Oh, if Bert had turned me down

after all the disgusting things
he made me do just to save me,

I would have fucking killed myself.

Oh!

Excuse me.

I gotta pee.

So much drama.

I'll go.

I guess we got our answer.

You got a cold, cold heart.

What?

We're getting married, Marvin.

Yeah, sure, you are.

Someone's not a happy camper.

Shut the fuck up, bitch, or I will cut you!

Be careful.
She's crazy.

You doing okay in there?

- Is she gone?
- Yes.

Look at me--
I'm such a mess.

- Why are you crying?
- These are tears of joy.

I finally met a man who's a
better liar than I am.

Baby, it's not the end of the world.
You kicked heroin twice.

You can get over Bert.

I don't think so.

Why not?

Because he's gonna pay.

I even let that prick call me Nik

like I'm some grease monkey mechanic
or douchebag frat boy.

I am not Nik.
I am Nikki, motherfucker!

Can I borrow your makeup?

- Can I ask you something?
- Shoot.

How does a smart guy like you,
a lawyer with enough savvy

to get a person free on murder,
end up romantically involved

with his homicidal,
heroin-addict client?

- She's amazing.
- I'm calling bullshit.

You have no intention of marrying Nikki.

I see the way she has you defending her
and shilling for her,

making sure that we believe her insanity story.

No, I believe she was insane.

Well, you're in the dark, Marvin.

But you--
you're her accomplice.

That is an outrageous accusation.

I love her.

What are you gonna do, kill your fiance?

You know, I thought about it--

But killing that self-righteous
dingleberry is just too easy.

Easy?

Killing is easy?

I want his balls burning in hell.

How are you gonna do that?

You'll see.

I-- uh, okay.

Can I please have some cocktail cherries?

- With the Champagne?
- Just it's-- I'm sick of eating the olives.

Okay.

Honestly, man to man,

you really think Nikki was insane?

Enough to beat a murder rap?

That's irrelevant.

My job is to defend people
that are charged with a crime

and it's their right to have
vigorous legal counsel.

What I think doesn't matter.

What's your
non-legal opinion?

I... listen
to the experts.

Is this-- is this plan
gonna go down tonight?

You're so inquisitive.

It's attractive.

It's like a hot succubus Nancy drew.

So what do you think of Zach?

- He thinks Nikki's full of it.
- No, I didn't say that.

Bert, confess.

You wanted deep in it.

Deep in it?

"Deep in it" is a jazz expression
I just learned.

It means "fucking."

So you went along with her plot,

helped her plead insanity and proved it,

and in return she gave you her?

Wow.

That is low down.

Bert, man, defend yourself.

You want me to be honest, Hmm?

My answer is yes, Nikki is
abso-fucking-lutely insane.

Is? You mean like--

as in presently, real-time,
in the bathroom.

- Damn.
- Well, then, why is she out of prison?

Well, I could give you 200,000 reasons why.

What, you greased the doctors?

And a couple of members of the board,

but Nik doesn't know about that, so...

- What, and you admit that?
- But that's a crime.

Yeah, well, what are you gonna do about it?

What are you, cops?
It's untraceable.

You ever bring it up again, I'll deny
we ever had this conversation.

Now that's jazz.

$200,000?

Where do you get that kind of cash?

'Cause I'm fuckin' rich, brother.

I make more than that every month.

What you don't realize
is I represent drug dealers,

gangsters, even bankers.

Okay, but why?

And then--
and why tell us?

At first, I thought like you,
Zach, that she was faking it.

She even told me she was faking it

to lure me in like some femme fatale

straight out of
"double indemnity."

And then I-- you know, I was going
through a tough divorce

and she's just--
you know, she's so yummy.

She's so magnetic, right?

And I thought, "why not
represent this damsel in distress

after she just knocked off this animal stalker

son of a bitch, arm-robbing,
fuckin' drug-dealing punk?

Which arguably could have been
a case for self-defense.

And I was just trying
to look for a way to get her

an easy sentence,
you know?

Then I started working my angles
to get her out early

at the hospital because...

Well, she just makes me feel like I'm 20 again.

She's walking Viagra.

Okay, so she wasn't faking insanity?

Not in my opinion, no.

And she's not even cured,
but she doesn't realize it yet.

She's zipped out of her mind,

but she thinks she's
brilliant-diamond clear.

I mean, I didn't realize
how disturbed she was mentally

until I had already sprung her.

And by then, it was too late.

What's she done that's so crazy?

Well, she traded in my jag for an old '67 G.T.O.
With a shot transmission

because she didn't wanna drive
around in an elitist vehicle.

That's not crazy. It's just Nik.

Yeah, Nikki hates every car built after 1979,

- except the Mini Cooper.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

How about she slept with my psychiatrist friend

and God knows how many others

so she can get out of the institution?

One other guy comes to mind.

Well, I am positive she murdered
my sister's cockatoo.

- - Zorro!

I can't prove it, but she always hated that bird.

We weren't at my sister's house
for more than 30 minutes

and that bird Zorro was on the bottom
of the cage, feet up, dead.

Do you really think she's a homicidal maniac?

No, no, that's just some line
we came up for her defense,

but I sure think she's something.

And you didn't realize any of this

until you sprung her from the insane asylum?

- That's--
- that's fucked up.

- Yeah.
- I know.

I feel like Dr. Frankenstein--

my monster out there running amok.

Well, I hope you end up better
than Dr. Frankenstein.

Quite honestly, I didn't even wanna be here.

I knew Nikki was up to her
old tricks, scheming, right?

But it was you, Marvin--
you, you knew.

I did?
I-- what?

I was curious to meet with three people

who had been her lovers and survived.

I figured I might pick up a pointer or two.

You think she wants to kill you?

Oh, yeah.

After we get married for my money

or after she decides she hates me.

Most definitely.

Listen, fellas, I keep

having this reoccurring nightmare, you know?

And I'm like that bird
trapped in the cage and...

My bed's on fire.

- Aah!
- But I wake up screaming

and who's that lying
in the bed next to me,

staring at me?

Nikki.

Well, I mean,

she does have a warped sense of humor.

Very.

How did you guys end it with her?

I mean, that's--
that's what I really need to know.

We didn't.
She broke up with us.

Yeah, I mean, Miranda is the only one

who had the guts to drop Nikki.

They've been gone a long time.

I'm gonna...

Nikki? Miranda?

You guys okay in there?

We're fine.
I'm good.

- You're not gonna believe this.
- Did Nikki try to kill you?

- What?
- Well, Bert was out there.

He was telling us about Nikki
committing homicide on a cockatoo

and having these recurring dreams
about being burned alive,

and I just-- well, I realized that
you had been gone alone a while.

I'm way off base, aren't I?

- Not really, no.
- I'm not?

No, I was actually just surprised

by the accuracy of your question.

Um, she gave me this.

Is that a gun?
That's a real gun?

She pulled it out of her garter belt.

She's wearing garter belts?

I know. I have to admit
it was kinda hot.

She just, like, pulled that out, gave it to you?

Yeah. I actually thought
she was gonna shoot me at first,

but then she handed it to me
and said, "as insurance."

- Insurance? What for?
- I don't know.

Maybe so she wouldn't be tempted to use it.

- On who?
- Bert, herself-- who knows?

I'm gonna put this away because...

I'm actually beginning to revise
my theory on her mental state.

- Yeah, me, too.
She's-- she's insane.
- And on the war path.

All right, well, we should call the cops.

- And tell them what?
- About the gun, her plan?

We don't know her plan and
the gun is in my possession.

I can't exactly slip it back
into her garter belt.

So we're stuck.

What-- what was--
what was that for?

Uh, us getting together,

which was also part
of Nikki's plan--

I'm just gonna go with it.

Are we out of here soon?

Why? Nervous?

Yeah, right.

That died quick.

Sure did.

If I didn't know any better, Nikki,

I'd say you were up to something,

sitting there like a cheshire cat,

grinning and laughing.

Don't you know the joke?

The joke?

Oh, the one you had on me?

That you were into jazz,
the rebops, our whole scene,

but really I was just kitschy fun for you?

That word "kitschy"--

it really gets under your skin, now doesn't it?

Listen, there's nothing
kitschy about having soul,

living jazz, rolling to your own groove.

It's authentic, not like you.

I love it when you get all
I'm-miles-davis and fuck-the-white-man.

It's cute.

That wasn't the joke I was thinking of,

but like that one this one's on you, too.

Oh, really?

How about this?

- Your fiance...
- Here we go.

...Thinks you're a homicidal
maniac on the loose.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
No, no, no, no.

- No, I don't.
- Please, Bert.

The whole time she was in the bathroom,

you were trying to convince Zach and me
that she belongs back in the nut house.

You know, that is a gross
misrepresentation of what I said.

Come on, Bert, she's got you
by the short and curlies.

You know what? You have
no credibility here, okay?

You're the ex-boyfriend,
right?

I'm not sure I like your friends, sweetheart.

And I am most positive they don't like me,

so we need to shove off.

You know the joke.

- I do?
- Mm.

What joke?

Tonight is not about us pressuring your old man

into giving you a wedding date, is it?

No.

Then what is it about?

Revenge.

What do you mean revenge, baby?

I mean fuckers pay.

Damn, I felt that in my spine.

Hey, you guys.
You guys just missed Nikki informing Bert and me

that tonight is about revenge.

Yeah.

- We knew that.
- What?

- What, you guessed?
- Um, no.

Nikki told me in the bathroom, I told Zach,

and we've been trying
to figure out her intentions.

You got lipstick on your ear?

We also made out a bit.

So what's your hypothesis?

Well, first of all, we believe you.

You're insane.

I was.
I'm cured.

No, you still are.

I'm not a boo-scary
homicidal maniac.

I'm sorry, but we think so.

It's sad. I'm--
I'm sad about it.

Bert, tell them.

Well, darling, um...

I agree with them.

- You do?
- Afraid so.

How could you say that?

Some unspeakable horror

has been brewing inside you since your release.

Yeah.

And tonight it's come to a head.

You need help, dear.
You're-- you're not well.

You wouldn't know.

I was so complimented when
you guys saw right through

my "slaughter-house five"
defense, but now I'm--

I'm disappointed.

You bought my bullshit.

Wake up, people.

We just realized that your bullshit was real.

You don't make idle threats.

We're worried about you and what you might do.

I'm perfectly sane.
I have been always.

Insanity was just my bogus legal defense.

You know, I fooled everyone, even you guys.

You're fooling yourself.

Maybe you always were insane,
even way back in High School.

Maybe faking it for court was easy.

You just had to act natural.

You even had me fooled

in the beginning, but not now.

Yeah. Me and Zach,

we understand your feelings for wanting revenge.

- You do?
- Yeah.

I mean, Bert,

fucking your client who's
facing life in prison--

that's just a straight-up
abuse of power.

I resent that.
I love Nik.

Back the fuck off.

Oh, you're right--

he is a good liar.

Yeah, I really know how to pick 'em.

And then you got Marvin here,

who pleads ignorance
about planting that heroin

and pushing you off the wagon.

Yo, I thought we quashed that beef.

Maybe.

I mean, we can never know
if that claim is true or not.

But if Nikki thinks it happened,
you're in jeopardy.

- Of what?
- Being shot, for one.

- Nikki's gonna shoot me?
- Who knows?

She wants revenge.

Don't worry.

I thought about it, fantasized, but no.

And then there's me.

I broke up with Nikki.

It was five years ago, but she can hold a grudge

longer than the half-life
of uranium.

10 million years.

That's good enough motivation to knock me off.

I betrayed you.
I left you.

But our quandary--
the question of Zach.

Yeah.

We couldn't figure out
why you'd want revenge on me.

If you were to, say, whip out a pistol

and shoot everyone at this table, why me?

What did I ever do to you
that was so awful?

I'm sorry. What's with
all the chit-chat

about people getting shot?

- It's a hypothetical.
- Yeah.

We thought if Nikki was to go homicidal,
how would she do it?

- What method would she use?
- Right, and my theory was shooting rampage.

But we moved off that because

once the first person got shot,
everyone would dive for cover.

She'd be lucky to get two of us.

And then there's
reloading, so--

I'd need a machine gun.

Then we thought she gathered us all

because she wanted to kill herself.

- She's very theatrical.
- We moved off that.

Nikki might joke about suicide,
but she would never commit it.

She loves life too much.

Her mantra in rehab was...

Kurt cobain was a pussy.

It's true, he was.

Dave grohl made nirvana.

Let me get this straight--
you two froot loops

were making out in the bathroom

and just dreaming up
these scenarios?

Yeah.

And I thought Nik was psychotic.

Stop calling me Nik, motherfucker!

What?

I can take psychotic from you,

but not Nik, not anymore.

I never knew Nik bothered you.

It makes me wanna scratch your
face off with my fingernails.

I'm-- I'm sorry.

You never said anything.

So, Nikki.

- Nikki?
- Yeah?

How are you going to take revenge?
And on who?

Well, I mean, let's see.

If I wanted to kill all of you at once,

a curious proposition, the way to go,

my method--
let's see--

Would be a modified Jim Jones.

I'd poison all your cocktails.

- Drinks?
- Sprite.

Anybody else?

- Um, I'm okay.
- No, no.

No. Just the check,
please.

You'd poison our cocktails?

Well, yeah.
I mean, why not?

I'm practically an expert.

I killed Mark Von douchebag with a quarter gram

of super-concentrated, tasteless,
odorless arsenic I brewed up myself.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Wait a second.

I never heard you say that before.

You always insisted that...

You couldn't remember.

You brewed it yourself?

Yeah. It was easy.

I found the recipe
on the Internet.

I distilled four big boxes of rat poison

down to just one cup

of pure, potent,

toxic bliss.

It brought me back to A.P. Chemistry, which I aced.

But that class with Mr. Plunk,
the guy with the mustache--
you remember that?

I do.
She got an "A."

Oh, all that homework paid off.

Mark dropped dead inside 72 minutes.

You timed it?

Oh, yeah, of course.

- I watched...
- Oh, fuck.

...Him breathe his last breath.

Oh, it was beautiful.

Are you saying you slipped us a mickey

when you brought those drinks

or in the Champagne?

Take your pick.
I could've done it either way

if I wanted to kill all of you.

That was the question.

- Do you?
- No.

- Some of us?
- No.

- Any of us?
- Relax. It's just a parlor game.

I hope so.

Is it?

What?

Me? Why?

Relax, Zach.
No reason to poison you.

- You're already dead.
- I am?

Practically, yes.

You have a meaningless job you hate
that sucks the joy out of your life.

You eat at home alone every night.

You buy tons of toys and crap you don't need

to make you happy, but you're miserable.

Aside from 15 minutes ago, I bet you
haven't kissed a girl in months.

Your existence is blah.

You've lost your mojo.

- Zach had mojo?
- Fuckloads.

I did... in High School.

Well, how do you know
any of this stuff about me?

I haven't even seen you in a decade.

- I've been spying on you.
- You have?

How long?

Four months.

You've only been out for four months.

Bingo!

I've been planning tonight
since before I got out.

I'm gonna tell you guys an embarrassing

and revealing story about me involving Zach.

I've never told this
to anyone except Zach.

We got together when we were 15.

Zach was a virgin, I wasn't.

Oh, Nikki, stop.
You don't have to go there.

I was molested.

I suspected something like that.

And not just once either.

There was an Uncle,
my third grade teacher,

my soccer coach,

my mom's boyfriend.

That's enough to drive you insane right there.

I felt like I was up for grabs.

Like my body wasn't mine.

My own skin...

Repulsed me.

And then I met this cool guy Zach.

We have lots of classes together

because we're both genius freshmen.

We worshipped the same obscure bands,

and so we started
going on dates.

And Zach was...

A perfect gentleman.

You know, I made up these rules
for what I was comfortable with

for when we were kissing,
and his hands--

they never strayed.

And so I knew at the end
of our junior year

that I wanted to pop his cherry

like a big, juicy bug.

She just asked me one day out of the blue.

Blew my mind.

Okay.

- Oh, yeah.
- Okay.

- Yeah, yeah.
- All right. Bye.

Bye.

It was a disaster.

The minute we get down to doing the dirty deed,

wham, I feel this, like, intense,
sharp pain through my entire body

and it cripples me and I can't stop crying.

Virgin idiot me thinks I screwed up the condom

or something-- hurt you.

That's horrible.

It took me a whole month to get
the courage to ask Zach to try again.

The second time was even worse.

Oh, fuck!

She pulled a Mike tyson
right on my nipple.

We tried two more times,
but the pain was still there.

I kept freaking out.

But Zach never left.

He never ran away.
He just...

Let me chew his ear off about the most depraved,

sickening things you can imagine.

And eventually, on our fifth attempt,

we worked.

I was over my phobia.

And then it got really...

Good, nice.

And Zach man found a groove.

Actually kind of charming.

You stood by her, Zach.

You're the hero.

Yeah, well, 10 months later, she dumped my ass.

That's the point of the whole story, Zach.

You got boring.

I know.
I know I did.

It would kill me to talk on the phone
with you when you were at college,

just babbling on about your business classes

and the stock market and Donald trump

and your newfound appreciation for advertising.

- It was pathetic.
- Well, you just matured.

You knew you had to go out and find a job.

I did the same thing when I was that age.

No.

Nikki's right.

I used to draw and paint, write poetry.

I loved music, movies, books, art.

I haven't enjoyed
any of that stuff in years.

I haven't even bought
a c.D. In years

and I used to buy three a week, and that
was when I had no job and no money.

So, I was-- I was sitting
in my hospital cell

and I was stewing about the cruel universe

and all the people
who had double-crossed me

and cheated me and lied
to and abused me.

And then I thought of you, Zach,

the one authentic good guy in my life

who let his own
life slip away.

And so I decided

as soon as I got out,
I would host a party just for you.

Tonight's about me?

Oh, yeah.

It's another of my genius orchestrations,

designed to snap you back, jolt you,

reawaken your sense of being alive.

Well, I mean, mission accomplished.

So is that--
is that it?

Are we done?

No, I'm just getting started.

I understand the sad story.

You're not gonna poison Zach, okay?

But what about the rest of us?

Why?
Do you feel strange?

Why do you always answer a question
with another question?

It's annoying.

Because it makes the puzzle
expand exponentially.

I learned that from socrates.

She's not gonna
poison anybody--

not here, not now in a public place
with all these witnesses.

Right,

because I'm afraid of making a scene, Bert.

Just tell them, Nikki.

Tell me.

I would never harm you, Miranda.

You gave me the courage to believe
in myself when I needed it the most.

Without your amazing, beautiful love,

I would just be another dead junkie.

So relax.

Enjoy the show.

It's us, man.

It's nobody.

She's just getting her rocks off.

You said it yourself--
she's been smiling

at us all night like some cheshire cat.

Something ain't right.

Where is that check?

Look at you two.

It's mass hysteria up in here.

Mm!

I got a headache from all your shenanigans.

What kind of headache?
Like a really scary, bad migraine?

No. I'm annoyed.

You need help, Nik.

Nikki.
Come on, let's go.

Jump in the G.T.O.
We can talk about this.

Why are you so concerned with headaches?

It's a symptom of arsenic poisoning.

I'm a nurse.
I've seen it a couple times.

You're a nurse?

Yeah, Miranda's grace under pressure.

She thrives on intensity.

She saved me twice
when I O.D.'D.

To hell with this waitress.

That'll take care of the Champagne.

I've had enough of your scheming nonsense, okay?

Trying to convince us all
that you poisoned our drinks--

that's no joke, okay?

That's insanity.
You need help,

professional psychiatric help.

I'd go back any time.

The shrinks at that last health spa
were ooh la la, so handsome.

Oh, shit.

Aw, shit.

I got way beyond a headache.

Is he acting?

Am I?

"Do my kisses burn?"

What?

"Do they take your breath?
You got a lesson to learn."

- "I'm the kiss of death."
- Holy shit.

Damn.

I'm flying.

"Kiss of death."

Come on.
What the fuck is that?

It's a song from the thrill kill kult.

- What is this?
- "Eye of newt

and toe of frog,
wool of bat and--"

well, I mean however the rest of the brew goes.

Another bullshit song?

It's the witches
from "macbeth."

Oh, another band I've never heard of.

- Shakespeare.
- Right. I knew you were acting.

This revenge

for your delusional
beef with me--

I am perfectly sane.

No, you're not--

you're a poor girl who got abused,

sick and twisted and never healed.

Yeah, well, that's true.
I'll give you that one, too.

This guy is good, a real pro.

69 minutes, how erotic.

Really?
You poisoned him?

Come on. Please.
He's faking.

Did you check his I.D. When
he came in like you did me?

Could've been you, Zach.

Lost soul.

I almost put you out of your misery,

but I had second thoughts.

I saved you.

Do you love me for that?

I'm sorry.

For what?

I planted the badness.

Fuck.

You did, Marvin?

I did. I--

I loved us.

I really did.

I forgive you.

Marvin?

Marvin? Marvin?

Wake up.

Marvin.
Marvin, wake up.

- Can you hear me?
- You poisoned him?

Oops.

What do we tell the judge and jury this time?

Did you poison me?

Thanks for getting back to me.

- Is she there?
- No, no, no. She's out for a run.

You are a piece of work.
A hot piece of ass like that

and you wanna send her back
to the institution?

She's not who I thought she was.

Look, I'm never
gonna marry this chick.

- I don't love her.
- So break up with her.

I can't! Look, just say she had a relapse,

say you made a mistake.
Just put her back in.

I'll double the money
I paid you.

Counselor, that was a one-time deal.

As much as I enjoyed her company,
I suggest you sack up and dump her ass.

- Don't call me again.
- No, no, no. Listen, listen.

Damn it.

Why? Do you think
you deserve it?

No more of your riddles.
I want answers now!

No, I didn't.

No?

I didn't poison you.

Hello. Emergency.
We need an ambulance.

- We're popular.
- I-- I have a pulse.

- It's weak, but it's there.
- What now?

- Oh, I run.
- You flee?

Is that your brilliant master plan?

Only there's a denouement.

I keep tabs on you, see you lose your job,

your law license, see the doctors
at the hospital sell you out,

maybe even see you go to
jail for fraud and bribery.

Never put incriminating shit in a drawer
with a crappy lock, Bert.

Otherwise, your law partners may get
copies of canceled checks.

You wouldn't do that--

expose yourself.

They'd put you away in that asylum for good.

I'll be gone.

Poof.
I've had months to plan.

They'll never find me.

But you...

Get off her!

Hey, man, stop, stop!
Get off her, man!

Stop it!

Aah!

- Are you okay?
- Oh, my God.

Yeah, I'm fine.

Wow, that was close.

- But thanks.
- Insurance.

Against Bert.

- Yeah.
- Oh, no, no.

- I am not giving you this gun.
- Are you kidding me?

- You just freaking murdered Marvin!
- Marvin isn't dead.

I just whacked him out on rohypnol and ketamine.

- He's in a k-hole?
- Deep in it.

Tell the e.M.T.S.
They'll know what to do.

And seriously, you do not want that skanky gun

on you when the cops show up.
I bought it off a crackhead.

I don't know how many bodies are on that thing.

- Yeah.
- Okay.

- Bye.
- Goodbye.

You guys.

This guy's dead.

♪ Don't roll your eyes at deception ♪

♪ your passion plays

♪ open the doors of perception ♪

♪ step through the maze

♪ here's the deal...

Rise and shine.

Hey, hey.

I was waiting--

I was waiting to see if I could bail you out.

Chivalrous.
Thank you, but no need.

They let me go.

They called it assault in defense of another.

- That's a relief.
- Yeah.

Did the detectives say anything
about Marvin or Bert?

Yes.
Can we get out of here?

- Okay?
- Yes.

- Yeah.
- Marvin's gonna be fine.

The doctors said he'll be
high for another day or two.

I guess Nikki taught him.

Uh, she taught Bert worse.

He'll live, but legally he's a mess.

The three guys from the bar
are pressing assault charges

and he attacked the cops that arrested him.

Wow. So much
for his legal career.

Nikki said she wanted his balls burning.

They are sizzling.

Do you think that Nikki's really crazy

or do you think she's just faking for effect?

Honestly, I think Nikki's beyond sanity.

I mean, she pulled last night off.

That took rational, sane,
but totally insane planning.

Yeah.

This is my ride.

Sweet bumper sticker.

- How do you feel about tacos?
- For breakfast?

Yeah. I know this hole in the wall.

Nikki and I used to go there after shows.

I figured since we just witnessed
one of her genius orchestrations...

I like tacos.

♪ Here's the deal

♪ my evil genius ways

♪ no free ride

♪ no free ride

♪ everybody pays

♪ everybody pays

♪ so here's the deal

♪ my evil genius ways

♪ no free ride

♪ everybody pays

♪ everybody pays.

♪ Hey, hey

♪ hey, hey

♪ hey, hey

♪ rah rah rah

♪ hey, hey

♪ rah rah rah

♪ hey, hey

♪ rah rah rah.

♪ Slow down

♪ inside

♪ she's going down

♪ forget

♪ I am only trouble

♪ I can only find the troubled kind ♪

♪ I should've run

♪ when I could see the sun

♪ and he's not right

♪ if I stick around, holding me down ♪

♪ he wants a fight

♪ but I can only find the troubled kind ♪

♪ troubled...