Original subtitles

Nothing really happens for a reason.

It just happens.

Take when Carol and I were kids.

On the night of our fourth birthday

Mom made us birthday cake with our dinner.

It was early summer.

The air was balmy.

Carol and I were twins,

and the resemblance was indeed strong at that age.

What was it that drew mom to that window?

I think she must have suspected dad's high jinx,

the way she grabbed us and tore out of the house.

We crossed the street hand-in-hand.

It was an evening of great beauty.

What the hell's going on here?

-Please. -Yeah Lou, don't do it.

It was funnier than Charlie Chaplin or Krazy Kat.

The man on the floor didn't have hardly any head at all,

and dad and the woman, they were naked.

Dad went to the electric chair,

and the woman committed suicide.

Mom was scarred for life,

but they were naked and it was funny.

It was so funny, I remember,

I remember that night well.

Carol and I did what we said we were going to do

back when we were kids.

We chose to marry someone that no one else wanted,

someone scorned and shamed, cast aside.

Your favorite, honey.

Pot roast.

Your son got his report card today.

-Yeah? -A "B" in deportment.

That's great.

Yeah, pa.

I gotta fly.

I don't like it when you go out this late to cover stories.

The city never sleeps.

A reporter's gotta go where the news is.

But listen, I'm gonna be into something really big.

It's dangerous what you're up to, isn't it?

I'll be careful, all right? I'll be all right.

I love you so much.

Take care of your mom for me.

I will, pa.

The way I played it,

the reporter racket was a life-or-death gamble.

When I hit Chicago I had big plans

on getting all the way to the top.

Hey, Marty.

Have a cigarette.

Thanks.

Nailing C.C. Casper,

the top cop in Chicago.

Tell me that doesn't make your heart

beat fast, Marty.

You got names, dates and places

for dope and prostitution payoffs,

and your sources are solid?

I know the drill, Marty.

I had your column for five years, remember?

You know better than anyone.

I can't go to print until you go on tape

in front of McCalister and the newspaper's lawyers.

I'm gonna make you famous, Marty.

They'll be naming streets after you.

Gonna make a movie about you

starring Marlon Brando.

Not unless it's a musical.

All right, here's your end.

Liquid morphine, the kind doctors use.

Administered judiciously, this'll last you quite a while.

You're too hungry, Joseph.

Pump too much of this pure, it'll bury you.

Do I look like I'm in school, Marty?

You give me what I need,

I give you what you need

and vice versa.

We're all gonna get fat off this one, Joe.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I've got to go to confession.

Don't get lost.

Hey, Joey.

Hey, hey, hey!

Chief C.C. Casper sends his regards.

I don't know any C.C. Casper.

Aw, come on, fellas.

Ohh!

Supposed to be another guy here.

Marty somebody.

Ask him.

Where's Marty?

In the head.

You run into a lot of jams in this life,

but what you don't want is some trigger-happy Chicago cops

trying to put your lights out.

Where'd he go?

-Go that way. -Got it.

Three years of work in Chicago up in smoke

in one night.

The dirty cops and the corrupt politicians

who ran the city weren't ready to let a reporter get away

with blowing the lid off their entire operation.

Now I had to spring for safe territory,

and in a hurry.

[dramatic orchestral music]

Next pit stop is Wichita, Kansas.

If you gotta take a leak, do it now.

I headed for California,

where mom and my sister Carol had landed.

Carol's marriage to a rich lowlife, William Wharton II,

hadn't worked out so well.

Now she was looking after mom.

Mom had stopped moving for a while.

Not because she was content,

but because she was too tired to go on.

The cab fare came to 95 cents.

I had a total of $2 in my pocket,

which I gave to the cab driver.

It did not matter about being broke.

Carol and I were together again

after three long years,

the longest we'd been separated.

Nothing else seemed to matter.

Marty.

Come in.

Come in.

Well,

let me look at you.

You can look at me, Ma.

You can look at me till the cows come home.

I don't believe it.

You're just handsomer than you used to be.

You don't look a day older yourself, Ma.

Where is Carol?

Where is that redheaded sister of mine?

I made you breakfast.

She's still in bed, isn't she?

I've got it all ready.

-Which room is hers? -Well, but...

Well, why don't you eat your breakfast first?

'Cause I know you must be tired and hungry.

Listen, I've got it special.

I made everything just the way you like it.

Mom.

She's at the top of the stairs

next to the bathroom.

Marty.

Now, this time,

now, you and Carol aren't going to get into trouble.

Trouble?

That's a little unfair, Mom.

What made you think

that we'd have gotten into any trouble?

Now you listen to me.

I want you to get a job.

You could do it.

I know you can.

There's three papers in town.

You just, with your expertise

and your experience and talent and

Looks.

Ma, you're,

you're gonna get me blushing again, aren't you?

And I want you

to bring your family out right away, too.

Why don't we just stop right here, okay?

Let's just stop right here, Mother.

Just to set up your own household.

Mother, I'm a big boy now.

You will do it, won't you?

Marty.

You won't stay here a day longer than you have to.

I know you don't mean that, mother.

It almost sounds as though

I'm not welcome here, though.

I looked at her with genuine sorrow.

It's rather sad, you know, when one's own mother fears

or even dislikes him.

It was almost unbearable.

I say this as one who's done a great deal of bearing.

It's just that I got old.

And I can't take the trouble so good anymore like I used to.

As if you ever could.

Any time I was away from her, it felt too long.

Especially when I saw her again.

Was she asleep

or was she playing possum?

Mr. Martin Lakewood.

Mrs. Carol Lakewood Wharton.

Sister.

Brother.

"Once upon a time there was a little boy,

there was a little girl."

I tell you, this Monroe dame sure gets a lot of ink.

No wonder I can't make a buck.

Guys all expect girls to have tits a mile wide.

She's ruining it for all of us.

Marty, Carol, breakfast.

God damn her anyway.

I'm gonna slap the hell out of her in a minute.

I will, Marty.

I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you.

I had reason to know her threats were not idle ones.

Still, I was amused.

It was so incongruous to me.

Such words from such a sweet-faced doll.

Maybe I'm losing my sense of humor.

If I sleep with one more sailor,

I'll start saluting.

So, Marty, what is this beef in Chicago about?

Mom saw the clippings that you sent.

She went on a rampage.

I had the good fortune to ferret out

some smelly figurative bodies

to identify the officeholders responsible for them

and the bigwigs who ran the whole sheboygan.

Will you give me a ciga--

Then it turned out that no one was ready

to back my play.

The voters and my editor

and the people who ran things

all thought it was just plain peachy

to let those dirty thieves keep their jobs.

I know, sweetie.

You try lighting a candle

while everyone else is cursing the darkness.

How'd you let yourself get into such hot water?

It was a question I couldn't answer.

Had I subconsciously wanted the heat?

Had I brought about my own downfall?

Maybe time would take care of her and me, too.

Unless, of course, we changed,

but how could we do that?

Marty.

from the time we were kids,

Carol and I couldn't stay out of trouble.

The kids we grew up with were cousins and second cousins

and friends of cousins.

They all called us strange and different.

Hey, Carol!

Hey!

Hey, cousin Lyle.

And they were right.

We were.

We felt each other's feelings,

we thought each other's thoughts.

We didn't care what anyone thought of us

and that was unforgivable.

For that, we had to be punished.

Tim, you all set?

Yeah.

-Come on, help me, guys. -Let go!

Marty!

Stop that!

Marty! Marty!

Marty!

Marty! Marty!

Marty!

Get off of me!

Let go of me! Let go of me!

Marty!

And there was something wrong, of course:

The deepest, darkest crime two people could ever commit.

We loved each other.

It was a lesson

I was ever trying to hammer home to sis.

You may be wrong and exist comfortably

in a world of righteousness,

but you may not be right

and live in a world of error,

The kind of world that we seemed to live in.

The growing sense of injustice

would just be too much to bear.

You know how you and me look on those things, Carol.

What we endured was something normal for us,

for those particular times

and those particular situations.

It's just what happened.

We weren't mistreated.

Here, Marty, I want you to take this.

I insist.

I know you're broke,

so you take what you need out of that,

and you send the rest to Glenda and Junior.

You said things were tough.

There's well over three centuries here.

So?

$300 isn't a lot of money.

Not when you've been around the guys I've been around.

So there's that alimony that stiff pays you.

You can make the rent off of that.

Did you say mom's doctor bills were getting high?

Jesus, what are you, an auditor all of a sudden?

I never heard such a fuss over a couple hundred dollars.

Baby, don't keep me in the dark.

Give me the straight dope.

You see, Marty, I have been saving up for something.

Um, just a couple dollars at a time.

Why didn't you say so?

Because I know you.

I know that if you knew that I needed,

that I wanted the money for myself, that--

I saw something in her face I didn't like.

Baby, what is it you want?

I couldn't analyze the expression

or say why it troubled me.

A mink.

But I don't have to have that, Marty.

Anyway, now that you're here,

we're gonna be rolling in the money soon.

Right?

Yeah.

See?

So, you satisfied now, huh?

Yeah, I'm satisfied.

You still haven't leveled with me

on how you're making it with the local syndicate, though.

Oh, these guys are such a laughable crew,

you could hardly believe it.

She told me how she staked out some turf

in the local cocktail lounge

when they sent some joy boy around to give her the arm.

I'll have a Rob Roy, please.

You're sorta cute.

You're not.

What's your name, sweetcheeks?

Who's asking?

Name's Lloyd.

I run this joint for the McCloud outfit.

Lloyd, huh?

Lloyd, why don't you run home to mama

and have her make you some hot milk?

You can't sell that pretty ass of yours

around this town without us taking a cut.

Aah!

Lloyd, the next time McCloud wants to talk to me,

have him see me in person.

Oh, what's that?

He says he'll buy my drink for me.

So the two big guns,

McCloud and his partner Galloway,

they come out to the house.

And I fixed them both a nice, big drink.

Can you imagine?

They gulped it down like little lambs. [laughs]

[sighs] I do believe they've never heard of chloral hydrate.

It took the highway patrol

a whole week to find them.

One of them died,

and one of them had to be committed

to the insane asylum.

Couldn't have happened to a nicer pair of guys.

And since then

nobody seems to muscle me anymore.

That's my sis.

That's my sweet little sister.

I went to work the following day

on the first paper I applied to.

I had no difficulty about it.

Not since I was a child, a very small child,

have I had any difficulty in getting work.

It would be strange if I did.

Personally and in intelligence,

I'm a generous cut above the average.

I must admit to this, as immodest as it seems.

When I choose to,

I can be exceedingly ingratiating.

And to top it off,

there was my childhood training by earnest teachers.

One gets work readily

when the penalty for failure was a clubbing.

You learn not to take no for an answer.

It was the best and biggest paper in town,

which is not to say, of course,

that it was either very good or very big.

Most of the other staffers were fair,

about average, I suppose.

They'd been getting by nicely until I came along.

But then there I was,

a real newspaperman, a towering beacon of ability,

and by comparison,

these average people looked like submoronic dolts.

Whenever I cared to,

and when I had an amusing objective in mind,

I've always advanced in my work.

But I set an all-time record on the paper.

I was assistant city editor at the end of the first week.

Two weeks later, I made city editor.

Carol, on the other hand,

had a different experience of employment.

Being sorely undernourished and frequently raped,

she had little energy, time, or appetite

for normal endeavors.

While I was going up the ladder,

sis was doing her level best to make change.

Now.

My rise at the Sentinel did not bring joy to all.

In fact, the city room was a mess.

All the staffers were jumpy.

The news editor had resigned.

The chief copy editor had reverted to alcoholism.

The publisher no longer made his face to shine upon them.

He griped at everyone, except me.

No one could do anything to please him,

except me.

Mr. Griffith wants to see you.

Yes.

Uh, have a seat, Marty.

Thanks, Mr. Griffith.

You know, I, uh, canned, uh, Samuelson.

The managing editor.

Yeah, I heard about that.

Seemed like an okay Joe.

I guess you had your reasons.

The job is yours, if you want it.

Gee.

You're getting $75 a week.

Well, that goes up. $82.50.

Samuelson always treated me square.

He was a bum.

He couldn't turn this rag around.

You can.

You know it. I know it.

Start today.

I quit.

What?

You're sick of paying Samuelson $112.50

to do his job?

Looking for the next patsy to hang this rag on?

No, thanks.

If you were half smart, you'd have talked to me

before you gave Samuelson the knife, but you're not.

Are you crazy?

Not crazy enough to keep eating your shit.

You can't just walk out on me--

Yes! Yes!

I can!

I have a guideline for my behavior!

And you, sir, you have violated commandment one-minus!

What the hell are you talking about?

It is the commandment that has never been written down

because every goddamn fool's supposed to know it!

Yea, verily.

It is the pointed moral of all happening

from the beginning of creation to wit.

Take not advantage of thy neighbor

with his pants down,

for to each man, there comes this season!

And in my house, there are many mansions!

And in those mansions,

there are many men longer-donged than thyself.

Get out!

Get, get, get out!

Get out! Get out!

Get out!

Get out! Get out!

Get out!

I'd like to say I walked out on that dog prick

because he was a wicked old man.

The truth, it was his being certain about me

and my motives that I objected to.

The minute anybody thinks they have me,

thinks they know what makes me tick,

I have to take 'em down.

Nobody knows me.

I do what I do, and that's it.

But the world hadn't changed.

I still had to turn a buck.

Carol's luck was running bad.

There was no prize chump in the offing.

But what the hell, I thought.

We were bound to get a break before too long.

In point of fact,

opportunity was walking right in my direction.

Well, it if isn't Alice Blueclothes.

Boo, pretty Alice.

Please let go of me.

I don't think so.

What's the matter?

Don't you like me?

Let go of me, or I'll fix you, you see?

Oh, come on.

We haven't even had our waltz yet, Alice.

Or would you prefer a square dance?

We could ask these nice people to join in right with us.

Are you gonna lay off me, or what?

You're so nice to the touch, I don't think I am.

Besides, what are you gonna do about it?

Police officer.

You're under arrest.

I will go, willingly, gladly.

Lock me up in some cool, dark place,

use handcuffs, but you know what?

You're gonna have to put 'em on yourself.

Okay.

All right, mister,

I should take you in, but I'm off duty,

and I got better ways to spend my free time.

Is this your car, Alice?

You know, it matches your blush.

Shut up!

If you don't promise to behave yourself,

I'll take you in anyway.

The body matches your lines, too.

Are you blond all over or just where it shows?

Would you just please go away?

Sure, I will, Alice.

Say it like you mean it, and I will.

I'll go away, and you'll never see me again.

Scout's honor.

Do you, do you want, [clearing throat].

We could...

What is it, dear? Spit it out.

We could go somewhere, for a drink.

I'm afraid not.

As a matter of fact, I wouldn't think of it.

I know something of your city, and I know that cops on duty,

No, I told you I'm not on duty.

And I'm not sure I believe you.

And I know something else.

Local lady cops have to be single.

Marriage is grounds for immediate dismissal.

And one would also be dismissed,

naturally and quite promptly,

if her behavior was slightly less than circumspect.

I mean, she can't sleep around as other women may.

One hint of scandal, and she'd be caught.

But guy cops, they can fuck all they want

or anyone they want.

What's a lady to do?

I mean, what is she to do

if her womanly desires were, shall we say,

a little more extreme than normal ones?

If she was highly sexed,

loaded with all the right equipment,

just aching for a little action,

what then?

I'm sorry, you're gonna have to speak up.

We could go to my place.

Yeah.

I'd like to see your house.

I hate taking women to hotels.

No.

No, no.

I meant we could go to my place

and have dinner, and we could talk, and...

It's right on the beach.

We could swim if you want.

I'd love to do all those things.

Really. That would be fantastic.

We can do all that after.

I mean, we'll go to bed first,

and then if you're not too tired,

you can make supper.

We can take a walk on the beach.

Heck, we could even talk.

You don't like the sound of that?

That's all right. I can take a walk up this block,

meet half a dozen women

who'd like the sound of what I just proposed.

I know you could.

I say we just forget it, huh?

Oh, but afterwards,

you wouldn't respect me.

I couldn't respect myself.

You'd think I was terrible.

You are so wrong.

I really didn't care, you know.

At least, I cared very little.

She was a cop.

Of course, there was a cop that dad had killed.

I wasn't sure that I cared to do anything about that.

Wait, sir.

Mister, wait up.

Just wait up, okay?

Don't you go away.

I want you to come home with me right now.

Oh, should I?

Yes.

Just come home with me right now.

Come now.

I don't know.

I mean, what'll you think of me?

You'll think I'm terrible.

You just better come home with me right now,

or I'll do it right here.

Her name was Archer, Lois Archer.

She was 28.

She told me she'd been with the police department

for five years,

three as a secretary, two as a street cop.

That paid more.

She thought it would be exciting,

but she wasn't the cop type.

She was staying with it because jobs

and good jobs were hard to get out here.

People came for the climate

and were willing to work for next to nothing to remain.

She had a brother overseas in the army.

He and she owned a house, jointly.

That's all I was able to find out about her

and all I needed to know.

* I *

* Reach for you *

* Like I'd reach for a star *

* Worshiping you *

* From afar *

* Living with my *

* Silent love *

You have very pretty skin, Lois,

A lovely blush.

Not as extensive as my wife's, of course,

but you don't have her area.

You are so crazy, honey.

You and your 400-pound wife.

She probably weighs more than that now.

She gets bigger all the time.

Elephantiasis.

It's not fat.

It's growth.

Her head probably weighs more than all of you.

Sure, I'll bet.

I can just see you marrying a wife like that.

Who else would have married her?

Isn't she entitled to marriage,

to all the things that could have been given to her?

I suppose it would've been better

to put her to sleep at birth like our first kid.

Yeah, sure.

Had to be done.

What kinder thing can you do to a helpless mongoloid?

And the one you have,

I suppose he doesn't have

all of his parts, right?

He's my kid, isn't he?

He's bound to have something missing.

Marty, Marty, Marty.

Do you know what I'm going to do to you?

No, that's not the point, really.

It's not what you're going to do to me.

It's what I'm going to do to you.

Except for the vague sense of uneasiness

of something left undone,

I felt quite happy.

I had Carol.

We were brought together again.

I had Lois.

At least, I would have her for a while.

Oh, I love that. [laughs]

That's the best.

I know. Listen, the house,

it's on the outskirts of town.

It's not as pricey as it would be in town,

but some people may go for that ocean view.

Hmm. Sounds like a very nice place.

I tell you, doll, this brother angle

presents a bit of a problem.

I don't know, I get the impression

he's a pretty tough customer.

She gets nervous every time she mentions his name.

I got it all worked out, though.

The place is worth about 30 grand.

She cables him, says she's got an offer.

He signs the deed.

I stop his clock,

force Lois to sell, and we're 30 grand richer.

The whole thing will take about a month.

Marty, you like this one, don't you?

You like her, huh?

I like everyone,

except, of course, your ex-husband

William Wharton II,

who I owe a visit.

Who I owe some pain.

Aw, jeez, it's almost noon.

I've got to get over to Claire's and put in my time.

You know, am I off my rocker,

or have you put on a couple of pounds?

Marty, you nut.

No, it looks good on you.

A little too much of mom's feed bag.

Aw, that's a very nice thing to say to a girl.

Say that to your cop, and she'll pinch you.

Oh, the extra ounces look good on you, kid.

See you.

Stay out of trouble.

Just for a laugh,

and since I had no office to go to,

no clock to punch,

I figured I'd watch sis ply her chosen trade.

As it turned out, it was a damn good thing I did.

The fat pig in white

had private dick written all over him.

Somebody wanted to do my sister harm,

and I had a pretty good idea who it was.

Mr. Krutz.

How do you do?

My name is Marty Grosvenor.

Do I know you?

Our manager's secretary didn't call

and tell you I was going to pay you a call?

No, nobody called.

I'm Mr. Wharton II's west coast representative.

He told me to come down and check with you.

Oh, well, that's just swell.

Uh, please, sit down.

I was just on the case just this morning

trailing Mrs. Wharton. [coughs]

Tell me, aren't you fellas

just rushing things just a little bit here?

How's that?

Well, I've only been on the case four days,

and I've already sent in two reports.

Four days?

Wharton, he likes to put the squeeze on, doesn't he?

-And don't I know it. -Ha!

Well, I don't mean to criticize.

The wages are fine, but, you know--

No. Criticize all you want.

You got every right to, Mr. Krutz.

I don't mean that man ill will,

but, personally, that man is a bastard.

I mean, this case is fact to that point.

You know, you've got something there,

Mr., uh, Grosvenor.

I know all about this case,

even if not much of it got into the papers.

You know what I mean?

That guy Wharton was as lowdown as they get.

I mean, he was a washed-up, worn-out punk,

pimping for a living.

And so, somehow,

this, this swell little dame

Carol Lakewood,

she decides to marry him.

Never will figure that one out.

And she starts to get him back on his feet.

Well, there's nothing he's any good at,

so she supports both of them.

What time she ain't knocking herself out on a job,

she's working to build him up,

Nursing him, waiting on him hand and foot,

I mean, actually making something out of nothing.

You know what I'm talking about?

And she does so good at it

that his big bucks hoity-toity family back East,

they decide to take him back.

So how does he thank her?

He turns around

and gives her a great big dose of syphilis,

and then, divorces her for having it.

Well, she was too young.

She couldn't put up a fight.

Well, I see you know all the facts, don't you, Mr. Krutz?

You are well-grounded in this case.

Well, yeah, sure.

It's my business.

Know what I mean? [laughs]

Well, what about your boss,

Mr. Grosvenor?

Naturally, I'm glad to have the job, tickled pink,

But why does he want it done?

All this trouble just to save himself a few bucks?

How can he do it?

I wonder.

How can you do it?

Say what?

Tailing an innocent girl for a filthy slug

just to make a buck.

Aw, what the hell.

It's my job.

I mean, you know, if I didn't do it,

somebody else would, huh?

Am I right, mister, uh, what'd you say your name was?

Would somebody else do it?

I mean, how the hell can you be so sure?

Have you ever considered the potential

in a crusade for not doing something

that someone else would do just because you wouldn't?

You simmer down here, mister.

I'm afraid I don't like your tone.

I'm afraid that you have sinned!

You've violated section "A" of commandment one-minus.

Yea!

Verily!

Say, you can't blame me for all this!

Yea, verily, so sayeth the lord,

"better the blind man who pisses through a window,

than the knowing servant who opens it for him."

Put it there, Krutz.

[ominous orchestral music]

Oh, dear.

Oh, dear, dear!

Oh, dear.

Yes! Yes!

I'm very upset with you, Marty.

Why's that, mom?

You know what you've done.

You know all the wrong things you do

that you just can't seem to stop doing.

Out with it, mom. What's on your mind?

Why don't you spit it out?

I'm shocked.

You'll get over it, Ma, I promise.

You quit your job at the Sentinel,

just up and quit.

I didn't want to upset you, Ma.

It just happened.

You just don't want to amount to anything, do you?

Neither one of you do.

Do everything you can not to.

Well, all I can say is--

Before you go any further,

okay, before you say another word,

I would like you to establish

your qualifications for saying it.

How do you mean?

Well, I can't make it any plainer, Ma.

I don't want to be more pointed about this, but

let's just face facts here.

Why should Carol and I concern ourselves

even in the slightest

with what you think about anything we do?

Why should we listen to you?

Why should anyone?

I did the very best I could raising you kids.

I couldn't help it if--

We have a long list of all the things

you couldn't help, mother.

Carol and I, we've never blamed you,

and we're never going to.

Now, we can just sit here, and we can enjoy our meal

and have a pleasant evening here at the old homestead,

only you've got to play fair with us.

We don't criticize you,

so why don't you just keep your mouth shut

and forget all about this unpleasant chitchat?

I don't feel like eating.

I think I'll have to lie down.

Mom?

Are you okay?

Carol, give me a hand.

Carol, can you give me a hand?

Carol?

Carol!

Sure.

I can't get my breath. [coughs]

Take it easy, Ma. You just need to rest.

How's that stuff coming, Carol?

It's coming right up.

This is just the ticket for what ails you, mom.

There you go, mom.

You like this stuff, right?

Sure, I do.

Feeling better, mom?

Yeah, a little bit.

Just don't do anything else.

Blindness, honey.

It's the first step towards sudden brain death.

It's a death for our time,

A death for people too stupid to appreciate

something more complicated,

worthy of contemporary attitudes

like "let's drop the bomb on Moscow."

And "the poor are better off and happier being poor."

I swear to god, it's my profoundest wish.

I'd like to kill someone really worthwhile.

Yeah.

I feel sorry for old Mr. Krutz.

I wish I could've had him in bed with me.

They're always so happy that way.

Under the circumstances,

I think a little extra alimony's out of the question.

You know,

I hate you going over to Claire's.

Right now, it's, you shouldn't have to.

Don't worry about me, sweetie.

I feel just fine.

Besides, I need my own racket.

Got to work to keep up my self-respect.

Don't wear yourself out.

It's not necessary.

This other matter, I'm getting close.

This house deal,

I think I'm going to swing that real soon.

Have you decided what you're going to do with Lois

at the windups?

Call me psychic,

but I don't think I'm going to have to decide.

The fitting thing will be done,

but I'll have nothing to do with it.

It's going to be a matter of grace.

Whatever you say, sweetie.

It's all right by me.

That's her.

See you.

Hey.

What's your sister doing tonight?

She's got a date.

Move over.

On the drive to the beach,

Lois was pouting and peevish.

I could hear the wheels spinning with irritation

in that cop's mind of hers.

I could have let it go, but what the hell.

What's bugging you, Lois?

-Nothing. -Pig's eye.

What's eating you?

It's just the way that Carol of yours lives,

that house,

the slinky dresses she sashays around town in.

You'd think she was royalty.

Well, that's how she is.

She'd die if it had to be any other way.

Stop talking nonsense and just tell me this, Marty.

Just tell me why I should be given this pressure from you

all the time about selling my house

when you could just as well ask that fine sister of yours

to help us go away.

Wait. Now, you, you want me to ask for money

for us to live on from my sister?

Really? That's...

That's my proposal, Lois.

I'm sorry.

Let's hear your response.

You bastard.

I'm sorry.

How about that?

-How about that, Lois? -No, Marty, please.

-Is that better? -Stop.

It'll show, and I have to work.

Show?

My slow-eyed slut!

My copulating cop!

Oh, how about that, Lois?

How about that?

How about that, Lois?

Is that all right?

Is that better?

How about that, Lois?

Harder, Marty.

-Harder. -Lois.

I'm trying to help you see things clearly here, Lois.

No, no, no, don't talk, darling.

No, you know what I'm thinking? You know what I'm thinking,

I think I'm going to walk up the highway

and I'm gonna get myself a cab and get out of here, Lois.

Don't you dare.

You want me to do this?

You want it? Like that?

Like that?

Like that, like that?

I'm thinking maybe I ought to leave you out here,

lock you outside let the kids who play jacks see you in the

morning. What do you think of that, Lois?

Do whatever you want.

Are you sure?

What else is there?

Truer words were never spoken, babe.

The next morning, she phoned in to the department

and reported herself sick and was given the day off,

so I kept on staying.

It was a pretty wild day.

A sweetly wild day,

a perfect commingling of sweetness and wildness.

We stripped every damn picture in the house

from the walls.

It was the most hideous kind of crap, those pictures,

Cute stuff, dime store junk.

We dug up a couple of her brother's rifles

and lugged the lot down to the beach.

Then we ate and drank some more

and had another bath.

She made herself into a pretty peacock.

We said nothing about money all day.

We were afraid of spoiling that sweet wildness,

so we still did not speak of money.

Marty.

I don't want you slaving away

over any old newspaper.

I want us to be all alone,

Away.

Off somewhere by ourselves.

Well, let's see, then.

We could

run a dairy.

None of this mechanized stuff they got these days,

all natural, pure milk.

I'm going to pinch you in a minute, smarty.

Well, I could finish writing my book.

We could get pretty rich off that.

You're writing a book, honey?

Mmm.

- Tell me about it. -No, I couldn't.

No, really, it's nothing.

It's just my solution to the deficit crisis,

You know, a treatise on taxation sort of thing.

All right, I call it my Cornucopia of Constipation

or the Martin Lakewood Bowel Movement Single Tax.

Oh.

Crazy.

Yeah, doll, it's simple but beautiful.

I do away with all taxes on food and other necessities,

and the only levy would be on bowel movements.

What do you think?

It's really a sensible plan.

A workable concept,

as the boys in Washington like to call it.

You know, it's possibly the most equitable

and just plan ever invented.

Listen.

The less money a man has, the less he eats.

The less he eats, the less he shits.

The less he shits, well,

the less are his taxes.

Mm-hmm.

And what if he doesn't have any money at all?

Well, what does he do now?

Oh, very funny, Marty.

-Ha ha. -No.

Who's kidding?

If it's right to let a man starve to death,

it must be equally right to let him die of constipation.

It's not equally right.

It's more right, god damn it.

This way, at least he's got a choice,

a little control over his own destiny.

Enough of this unwarranted intrusion

by government bureaucrats.

What, you can deny him food,

but you can't keep him from holding his bowels?

Where is the fairness in that?

People have got to learn about responsibility.

What's so funny?

People have got to learn about responsibility.

I think the bowel movement tax

leads into that direction.

What is so goddamn funny?

It's just a joke.

It's about the oldest joke in the goddamn world.

Do you love me, Marty?

Do you love me very much?

We'd been on this line before,

I imagine almost every man has,

and I gave her the reply she wanted.

You know something, Lois?

I'm afraid I do.

Do you love me more than anyone?

Do you love me more than you love your sister?

Well, what do you got to bring her up for?

Do you, baby?

Just tell me.

-What? -Just say it.

I told you.

They're different.

They're completely different.

They're two different things.

One's a glass of milk, one's a highball.

Ohh.

Both satisfying in their own ways,

but they're completely different.

They're just two different drinks.

They're two different kinds of love.

They're not comparable, these two, Lois.

Why do you have to go do that?

Why'd you have to do that?

That, that's so stupid.

What, do you want to get smacked?

You talk so mean to me sometimes, Marty.

I don't go off

about you and your brother, do I,

in his cute uniform and all this other bullshit,

but you love him, don't you?

And I honor that, you know.

You probably love him more than anyone else.

I do not!

I only love you!

I love you more than I love anyone else

in the whole world, and I want to hear

the exact same thing back from you!

You're going to have to wait a long time

to hear something like that, Lois.

[telephone rings]

Let it go.

One ring, and she stopped.

It was Carol's signal.

I waited for the next ring.

That's funny.

Lois waited for whatever she was waiting for.

It just stopped.

Ow!

What did you pull my hair for?

Is that you, Marty?

It was Carol.

She spoke rapidly,

her voice pitched just above a whisper.

I'll get back as soon as I can.

Lois understands.

I'm sorry I pulled your hair.

Is that it?

My mom just had a mild heart attack.

Look, she's had them before.

It's nothing serious,

but Carol thinks I ought to be there.

I think I ought to be there!

So, that's what Carol thinks?

-Yeah! -I'll tell you something Mr.

You can just call yourself a cab,

because you are not using my car

to go run off to your little Carol!

I see the way you two sniff around each other.

You want to know what I think is going on?

Huh, Marty?

Do you want to know what I think is going on

between you and your stupid little Carol?

Do you?

Do you want to know?

-Do you want to know? -Shut up.

Hi, can you please send a taxi

to 175433 Wildwood Road as fast as you can?

What? Come on, let's hear it!

What's in that tiny mind of yours, Lois?

Come on!

Come on!

I think you're fucking her!

I think you're fucking that little tramp!

I think you're fucking her morning, noon, and night!

Oh!

Oh, my god!

Oh, my god, what am I saying?

I am so sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Baby, I'm sorry.

You know, I'm sorry I could do something

to make you say such a thing to me.

Please forgive me.

Please forgive me. [breathes heavily]

Y-you can take my car, okay?

Okay?

Would you do that, baby?

You come back,

because I got such a need for you.

Shh.

I'll be back soon.

[Marty] I took her car, naturally.

She insisted on it.

Carol?

Carol?

You got him, doll.

He's not gonna hurt you,

he's not gonna hurt anyone ever again.

I didn't get him, Marty.

Well, he's dead.

At least you could have called me.

It kind of makes a fella feel inadequate,

taking care of business

without letting a fella know.

I didn't do it, Marty.

It just, I don't know, it just happened.

It just, it just happened.

What?

What happened, babe?

Come on, you can tell me.

I was coming out of the gin joint downtown.

And he came up to me.

He was in from out of town, so I brought him here.

It was so weird.

What was, baby?

What was weird?

Come on, you can tell me.

I started to get a little stimulated.

Yeah, well, he's a big guy.

It happens.

And all of a sudden,

everything that ever happened to us

with mom and pop and that lady across the street

and her husband and that look the guy had on his face

when dad shot him...

It all just came back to me.

[gun firing]

And all of a sudden, I looked down,

and the guy is, like, shaking

as though he's electrocuted,

and the next thing I know, there's blood coming out

of his eyes and his ears and his mouth.

Marty, look at the guy.

He's a bloody mess.

Well, I got to hand it to you, dear.

You're probably the first hooker

in recorded history

to induce seizures and cerebral hemorrhage.

Oh, Marty.

Oh, babe.

Who was he?

His name was Barnett Gibons.

He sold life insurance.

You're kidding, right?

No.

Marty, it's not funny.

Just another wreck by the side of the road.

Just hang in there, kiddo.

It's all gonna be fine.

Is it, Marty?

Yeah, I said so, didn't I?

Of course it is.

I'm gonna be sick.

Easy, babe.

You're so jumpy.

I never saw it get to you like that.

They never went that way before.

They all gotta go somehow though.

We all do.

It was all written down more than a million years ago

by a, very funny god.

You know, in the beginning, there was nothing.

Then he spoke, and that's when all the shit started.

We're just pawns, kid.

You know, players playing a part.

God had to do something to amuse himself,

so he dreamt us up.

I hope he got a good laugh, don't you, babe?

The things you say, Marty.

You awake?

How's your sister?

Forget about her.

-What time is it? -Forget about all that.

I'm your alarm clock.

You wake up, you cable your brother.

You tell him you got a buyer.

You tell him he's gotta fly down here

to sign the deed.

Next time I see you,

you better show me a copy of that cable

with the right date on it.

Otherwise, we're washed up.

I got away fast, pleased.

She was certain to relent.

She had to.

Marty?

Marty?

Marty?

Hey.

Is it bad?

It's really bad, Marty.

I can't get him out of my head.

Don't.

Don't think.

It was the way it was meant to be.

Don't remember.

That's the best way. You'll see it that way.

But this thing, it'll go away, right?

This thing in my head?

They always do, don't they?

But this one's really bad, Marty.

This one, it's really bad.

You know, in the daytime,

those night things, they just go away.

And in the nighttime, the day things go.

Just remember that.

Remember that, and it'll all be all right.

Yeah.

That's good, Marty.

Tell me a story.

Once upon a time, there was a,

a little boy and a little girl.

You all right?

The little girl was her mother, and

the little boy was her father.

And the little girl was...

Yes, mom?

I'm sorry.

I hope we didn't wake you up, mom.

Ahh.

I'll bet you do, just bet you do.

Of course we do.

We tried to be as quiet as we could.

Carol couldn't sleep.

I came in to tell her a story.

I know, I know what you were doing!

Ha!

Same thing you've been doing all along, you filth!

You scum!

No wonder they all hated you.

They knew what you were up to.

You didn't fool them!

They could see right through you!

They should have killed you both.

They should have just smothered you in your cribs.

You both should have been strangled at birth!

You!

They should have killed you in your bed!

My babies.

You're rotten.

You're rotten.

You're both rotten!

You don't know anything!

What are you saying?

What is she saying?

You're making Marty upset, mom.

You're making Marty upset.

I'll do a lot worse than that, a lot worse.

Get out of here.

Don't you talk to me like that, you devil.

Go to your room.

Don't you try to tell me, Carol!

I'm your mother!

You go to your room!

Go to your room, mom.

-Devil girl! Your a-- -Go to your room.

I didn't mean it.

I'm sorry.

-Oh, you meant it. -No, I didn't.

-You mean it. -No, I didn't.

You go to your goddamn room.

Don't you forget, I'm your mother.

Are you?

Were you?

It's time for you to go to sleep now, mama.

No.

Marty!

Oh, Carol.

It's time for you to go to sleep, mama.

Carol.

This will make you feel a whole lot better.

Carol, please.

This will be good for you, Ma.

It's just what you need.

Here you go, mama.

That's right.

Drink it all down, mama, like a good girl.

Yes.

This one will make you feel a whole lot better.

I feel, I feel better.

Thank you, Carol.

My little girl.

[Marty] Figuratively, at least,

most people do die of over sedation.

Fumbling about fearfully,

blindly they grasp the sweet-smelling potions

handed down to them, never look at the label,

and suddenly, they're dead.

They die, natural deaths.

Everyone knew Mrs. Lakewood had a weak heart.

Yes.

I told her that stuff was dangerous, Doctor,

but she kept going on and on,

"the pain, the pain."

It seems she passed on quietly.

That's a blessing.

Yes, it is, Doctor.

Thank you, Martin.

That's probably the undertaker.

Shady Grove Funeral Parlor.

You Mr. Lakewood?

Yeah.

My mom's upstairs.

I'll be running along.

I'll file the "death by natural causes" forms

with the county coroner.

Try not to drop her.

Don't, Marty.

Don't what?

Don't pretend that it doesn't hurt

to see her like this.

I know you like to play

the big old tough, rough guy,

but deep down, you're just a sentimental slob.

Hello?

It's me.

I'm really mad at you, Marty,

about the way you treated me the other night.

Hello?

Marty?

Marty, we've got some kind of a bad connection.

Marty, Marty, something's wrong.

You're scaring me.

What's happening?

Bad wires.

Marty, please, just talk to me

and tell me what's going on with you.

Marty?

Marty?

Yes, who is this?

This is Lois.

Yes, Martin's mentioned you

many times to me before.

I'm his sister. Is there something wrong?

Um, yes.

Well, you see,

our mother passed away last night,

and Martin's taking it particularly hard.

I'm, I'm so sorry.

You see, he and mom were so close.

Yes, I know.

Will you please tell him that I'm thinking of him?

Yes, of course.

I'll tell him.

Can you also tell him that I will do that thing

that he asked me to do?

Yes, I'll tell him.

You'll be sure to do the thing that he wanted,

just like he asked.

Well, it looks like you and me.

When wasn't it ever you and me?

* The thrill is gone *

* The thrill is gone *

* I can see it in your eyes *

* I can hear it in your sighs *

* Feel your touch and realize *

* The thrill *

* Is gone *

* The nights are cold *

* For love is old *

* Love was grand *

Marty, darling,

I was starting to tell you about where I'm going

and what I have to do, but I thought better of it.

You would only worry, and there really is no need to,

because I'm going to be perfectly all right.

* Now it don't appeal to you *

* The thrill *

* Is gone *

I'm in a little bit of trouble,

but I know how to handle it.

I'll be back with you just as soon as I can,

but I won't be able to be there for the funeral.

Don't you go either if it bothers you.

And don't feel bad about what happened to mom.

Certain things happen

because they're supposed to happen that way.

And tell me a story tonight, darling.

I'll be listening.

* The thrill is gone *

[Priest] Mrs. Lakewood was a wonderful woman.

She was a wonderful Christian woman.

She was a wonderful wife.

She was a wonderful mother to her two children.

Beloved of everyone,

renowned for her generosity,

she will be sorely missed by everyone

in this community.

I went to the funeral,

but I couldn't stay all the way through.

Just as they started to lower mom into the dirt,

I, well, let's just say I didn't feel so well.

So I took a stroll

through the city of wonderful people.

It was a crowded city.

Neighbor elbowed against neighbor,

yet no one felt the need for room.

They dwelt peacefully, side by side,

content with what they had because

they were all so wonderful.

-Marty Lakewood? -Who's asking?

Lieutenant Harris.

Is that your mother, Mrs. Eleanor Lakewood,

being laid to rest over there?

Yeah, that's my mom.

And your sister is Mrs. Carol Lakewood Wharton?

It's a nice badge you got there, Lieutenant,

but what's this all about?

It's about murder.

Mr. J. Krutz,

Private investigator

working for a Mr. J.J. Wharton of Boston.

Never laid eyes on him.

Who'd he kill?

Show him the other photo, Captain.

This is what getting stabbed in the brain looks like.

Not a pretty picture. Hmm.

How about this?

Who's he, another dead private investigator?

Not a private investigator.

Just an ace insurance salesman.

So what's he got to do with Krutz or me?

Look, fellas, I'm sorry.

I listen to quiz shows, too,

but I think I missed the million-dollar question.

What people like Krutz and Gibons and you

have in common is her.

What, my kid sister?

That beef was for shoplifting in New Orleans.

Well, it doesn't do her justice.

You ought to see her in the flesh.

People who see your sister, like Krutz and Gibons,

they die or they disappear.

People die and disappear all the time.

It doesn't mean she had anything to do with it.

What is she, God?

She was here as of noon yesterday,

the doctor told us that,

but she didn't go to the funeral.

She was upset.

Was Krutz tailing her?

I don't know. She didn't say anything about it.

You were seen yakking it up, talking to her in town.

She's my sister.

We're close.

We talk.

We love each other.

Is there something wrong with that?

Not a thing.

Your sister's a hooker.

It's my understanding

that one of Jesus Christ's best pals was a hooker.

I didn't grill my sister on where she makes her money

or where she spends her free time,

because I thought it was in bad taste, Lieutenant.

Tell me, where is the bitch?

I don't know.

I don't understand.

You're all brotherly love,

but you don't know where your sister was

on the day of your mother's burial.

No, I don't know.

I swear to God, I don't know!

Bring in a stack of bibles, I'll swear on that!

I'll swear on the freckle on the tip of your dick,

-if you can find it! -Stop shouting.

Do you want to know what happened,

do you want to know the trouble

that your lovely sister is in up to her neck?

At last, a reason for me being here.

Please.

A couple of nights ago,

she picked up this guy Gibons

outside of Claire's cocktails.

Krutz over here was tailing her,

and we're almost certain

that she got Gibons to knock Krutz off.

You think she ran away with Gibons?

We just weren't sure.

You can't prove my sister knew either of these guys!

For all you know, Gibons

Killed Krutz in some jealous rage

and tried to pin it on my sister.

If you knew the types of guys

my sister had to deal with through her life,

you wouldn't be so quick to judge her.

Do you mean any of what you're saying, Lakewood?

Every last word, Captain.

'Cause if you do,

you'll contact us if she contacts you?

Of course I will.

I want her name cleared out of this mess

as soon as possible.

But you got to do one thing.

Let's hear it.

You can't watch me, and you can't tail me.

'Cause if she did do something wrong

or if she's scared 'cause she knows someone who did,

then she's looking for a tail, and she won't contact me.

She's gonna wait till it's safe.

All right, Lakewood, you win.

No tail.

But if your sister gets in touch,

and you don't let us get to talk to her,

we're gonna have to hammer you.

You got that?

Every last word.

Hello?

Yes?

Yes, this is Martin Lakewood's residence.

Yeah.

Uh, Marty, can you talk?

It's, it's, um,

it's some doctor in, in Mexico.

It's about Carol, darling.

[soft jazz music continues]

Baby, I'm so sorry.

Señor.

Señor Lakewood.

Five months pregnant?

I don't know.

She, she tell me she's barely three months.

She, she no show.

She's so small.

Yeah, well, if you were any type of a real doctor,

you would know, wouldn't you?

I am so sorry, Señor.

I tried to do my very best.

It doesn't really matter, does it?

You got the wrong number, pal.

You're talking to the wrong party.

Wait, wait!

Wait for what?

What should I do?

I don't care what you do.

I don't know what your grift is,

but I know there's some kind of racket going on here.

If you don't leave me alone,

I'm going to get the authorities on you so fast,

it's going to make your greasy head spin.

Abortion's illegal in Mexico, too, you know.

Last time I looked, it was a Catholic country.

Señor, it has been almost four days.

Please, the weather, she's so hot.

And the smell...

Throw it in the ocean, throw it in a garbage dump,

throw it in the alley

so the little dogs can piss on it, okay?

You got the wrong party, pal.

But, Señor, she's, she's your family.

That hunk of meat you got on your table there

is not my sister.

That's not my sister Carol.

I know exactly where my sister is.

Please don't call here again.

Adios.

It's so tough.

Your sister and your mother-

Don't ever, ever feel sorry for me!

Ever!

Ever!

Oh God, I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Let's go out to my house, Marty.

You need to get away.

I seemed to be falling into the darkness

that claimed my sister.

If Carol was lost, then so was I.

Marty!

Lois, don't cry.

Oh, God, don't cry. Don't...

It can't be fixed.

Oh, Marty.

How you must hate me.

I never hated anyone.

There aren't enough tears for this sorrow.

Oh, Marty.

I want to tell you something about my dad.

What's he got to do with it?

No, honey, don't tell me one of those crazy stories,

about your past and your family.

Yeah, it's a story,you know. It's not true.

Let's just call it, call it a story.

All right then, if you have to.

He must have known sleeping with another man's wife,

I mean, a cop's wife,

would be more trouble than it's worth.

Now, tell me the truth, Marty.

You don't think I'm awful, do you?

That brother of mine, he's just,

he's just nothing.

It takes all kinds to make up the world.

He's always been so slow and stodgy.

Bet he moves fast now.

Told him I got offered $30,000 for this house.

Yeah, that number will make him move fast all right.

What the hell is going on here?

Don't do it!

Captain Miles Archer.

United State Marine Corps.

Stationed Hawaii.

A wedding photo.

You take a nice photo, Lois.

Precinct. Can I help you?

Police?

This is patrolwoman Archer calling from home

at 175433 Wildwood Road.

There's been a, a tragic accident.

A man's been shot.

It was my husband.

I was at home with an acquaintance

and we heard a sound.

We thought it was a prowler.

I shot at a shadow.

I wasn't expecting a visit from my husband.

Would you please send a coroner right away?

It's gonna be all right, Marty.

Lois' pals down at headquarters

kept the heat off us.

Things went pretty smoothly after that.

The Farrells are lovely people.

Your house will be in good hands.

There you go.

And there you are.

These are the things that happened.

Maybe they could have turned out differently,

but why think about that?

This is the game that changes as you play it.

God made it that way.

He rigged it.

We take the hits.

-I love you, Lois. -Move over.

Soon there would come night,

the lawn would be bright in the moonlight.

The little girl would come trudging across the grass.

It seemed I could see her coming now.

She would be frightened because she was alone,

and then she would not be alone.

We were going away together.

We were all going away together.

* You don't know *

* What love is *

* Until you've learned *

* The meaning of the word *

* Until you've loved *

* A love you've had to lose *

* You don't know *

* What love is *