All language subtitles for Early Edition s02e19 Show Me The Monet

Miss Redmond.

Miss Redmond.

She can't hear you. The old darling's
deaf as a post.

What's the problem? She's got gas.

She's got what?

No, I mean, I smell gas.

Miss Redmond.

Good Lord, you're right. Come on, Doris,
darling. Wake up. Come on, Doris. Come

on, dear. You left the gas on. Wake up.

Last week it was the water, poor old
darling.

Miss Redmond, please open the door,
would you?

Hey, where are you going?

Now, if you want to go down to the
street, I may need your help in a

Come on to the breach, dear friend.

Come on.

You and I are going for a little ride.

What are you doing?

Oh, sorry.

We've got to move.

That was amazing.

Pretty easy, really.

You saved her life.

Yeah, it's going to be on all the news
channels.

Let's hope he doesn't end mine.

What if you knew, beyond a doubt, what
was going to happen tomorrow?

What would you do?

There's no easy answer for a guy who
gets tomorrow's news today.

one out there.

Forecast is freezing.

90 % chance of more snow tonight.

Oh, it's going to be a cold one.

Hero kill and hit moron.

Now I get to save yesterday's Europe.

I'm out of here. Wait a minute. What
about more pressing issues in the world?

Like what? Like this painting and
scraping, which you were supposed to

with.

Yeah, well, yesterday I had to stop a
woman from blowing up. And now this guy

that helps me, he's here in the paper
again.

Don't you think that's kind of strange?

Oh, yeah.

Humanity first. Leave all the chores to
fishermen.

Look, I'll help you with the painting
later. Right now I got to deal with

Harbson.

It's on time.

Thanks, buddy.

Gotcha, you little limey.

Oh, hello. It's you.

Yeah, I'm sorry, old man. I'm fresh out
of heroics today.

What are you doing? You moving?

Very perceptive, aren't we?

Oh, that's good.

That's good. You should move. You should
move on in life. That's very healthy.

Matter of fact, you know what I think?

I think that you should start moving
right now.

Are you daft? I'm waiting for a removal
van.

Yeah, but it's cold outside and you
don't want to catch a cold.

Cold is cold.

Try a Scottish grass mower at dawn.

Go, baby.

Oh, bloody hell.

Come on, run, you idiot.

I think

this is what they call an extreme
example of road rage.

No. You don't mind if I do, eh?

Well, I've indebted to you, Mr...
Hobson, Gary Hobson. Well, tell me

Mr. Hobson.

How is it you always seem to manage to
turn up at the moment decrees, as it

were?

Forget about that. Who was that guy?

Never saw him before in my life.

Uh -huh.

Look, can I trust you, old man?

Have you ever heard of the acronym MI6?

Military intelligence, espionage.

Obviously, I can't divulge any details.
Suffice it to say that in my chosen line

of work, I tend to make enemies along
the way.

You're a spy?

Officially, I'm supposed to deny that.

Unbelievable.

It is, rather, isn't it?

No, no, what I mean is I don't believe a
word you just said.

Oh.

Perhaps that's just as well, but both
are safe.

So where are you going to go now?

Oh, I'm going to follow procedure.

Go to ground, disappear.

What about all your belongings? Oh,
casualties of war.

We rehearse for that sort of
eventuality, Holmes.

On no account should you blame yourself
for what happened.

Blame myself?

Yes, for exposing me, blowing my cover,
destroying months of Laborio's effort.

If you want to know, don't give it
another thought.

Oh, I stopped.

Blast.

Don't mislead my wallet.

Oh, well.

C 'est la guerre.

Hey, wait.

You invited him here? Yep.

He's staying with you? Yeah.

Good. How many times have I told you,
don't get involved?

Look, you can catch him, but you can't
cook him. Look, the guy doesn't have a

job. He's out of money. He doesn't have
anywhere to go.

Look, people are trying to kill him, and
I'm responsible.

Oh, there you go again, putting the
whole world on your shoulders. A tree

cut down in the rainforest, and it's
your fault. Do you even know who this

is? You don't really believe he's a spy,
do you? No, I don't believe he's a spy.

I've seen the guy twice in the last two
days. That's a little bit more of a

coincidence, don't you think?

Yeah, it's a coincidence, but, Gary,
everything is a coincidence.

Oh, hello.

Wouldn't happen to have a washing
machine handy, would you?

Thank you.

Gary, you... Oh, Clive Harbison, this is
Chuck Fishman, the co

-manager of the bar downstairs.

Oh, delighted.

Never met a bar manager I didn't like.

On Her Majesty's secret service, huh?

I beg your pardon?

The Lord.

He can be trusted.

Keep it under your hat.

Oh, absolutely.

I think if you don't mind, I'll pop
downstairs for a quick pick -me -up.

Can I get you chaps anything?

No, thank you. Oh, all right.

Um, Mr. Haversham, how long do we have
the honor of your presence?

Oh, two weeks at the outside. Just a
question of laying low till everything

calms down.

Now, don't worry. I have no intention of
imposing.

The on -hangers, please, and no starch.

Writer.

You can rest easy, Mr. Phelps.

Your heart's going to do just fine.

What do you mean?

The museum isn't interested in your
painting.

What? Why not?

Because it's a fake.

Not a bad job, either, but... A fake? It
can't be.

One. The brushwork is too studied. This
is a laborious copy.

Leicester painted in broad, vibrant
strokes, especially in contrast to the

Utrecht School, which was so popular at
the time. Two, the canvas is of a

manufacturer that wasn't available until
the 1800s. Leicester died in 1660. And

three, I happen to have seen the
original of this painting. It hangs in a

private collection outside Paris.

I know it may be small comfort, Mr.
Phelps, but many educated collectors are

taken in by forgeries. That's why the
Guggenheim hired me.

You're sure?

Positive.

If the painting gave your father
pleasure, then it's done its job.

I'm sorry to disappoint you.

I'll see myself out.

Show a little imagination.

Imagination? You want red ceilings,
peach walls, and white molding? It's a

statement. A statement. Yeah, it makes a
statement, all right. Get out of here

fast. And what would you know about
that?

It even sounds disgusting, Chuck.

I must say, your beef, absolutely first
class.

No mad cows here.

Hello, what's all this?

Yeah, well, see, I am trying to
redecorate, but I'm getting no help from

two Philistines.

What do you have in mind?

You know, something bold, something
splashy.

Tell you what, why don't you let me have
a stab at it?

I mean, at least I can do under the
certs.

You paint?

I dabble.

Besides, I've never been one to trade on
the kindness of strangers.

Hey, some people sing for their suppers.
Why don't you let me paint for mine?

1204. 1204.

Here we go.

Princess of Mary.

Long the coat, huh?

Smart guy.

Very smart.

And run, you cannot hide.

Look, can't this wait? You'll want to
see this, believe me.

Guy was up all night painting.

Listen, I've got things I've got to do
for yourself.

Voila. He did all that?

Some dabbler, huh?

Heard he'd honor talent.

So you're an artist?

Oh, no, no, I'm not an artist. No, my
talent lies more in the realm of

rather than creation.

You know, you have a real gift. You can
make a lot of money at this.

The world of commerce had a different
opinion, so I turned my talents in a

different direction.

So what about the spy thing?

Look, you've all been very kind. I was
just trying to find some way of repaying

you, that's all. Let's just leave it at
that, shall we? And who was that guy

yesterday, the one that tried to kill
you?

A business associate.

Well, a former business associate. We
had a bit of a falling out.

Well, Gary and I have a falling out
every day, but I don't try and run him

with my car.

Well, Marty's got rather a hot temper,
but I wouldn't worry about him.

I mean, his bark is a lot worse than his
bite.

Dead meat.

One minute I got peach and white
moldings, and the next I'm looking at

Sistine Chapel.

Got a hint to him. Man's got talent.

Yeah, regular renaissance man.

Where the hell have you been?

A chicken truck.

What? Chicken truck?

A school bus ran into a chicken truck,
and the chicken truck, it's a long

Where's Clark?

He's in the kitchen teaching Mario how
to make crepe suzette.

Crepe suzette? Yeah, they're really
good.

Turns out he's a gourmet cook, too.

You know, I think I might get used to
this guy. Really? Gary Hobson.

Heard about you in the paper the other
day.

Where is he?

Who? You know who. Hey, Shorty, we're
close. Why don't you get on out of here,

huh? Really?

Uh, come to think of it, now we're open.

Do you like Crepe Suzette?

No. Hey, what's going on, guys?

Where is he? I don't know. I don't even
really know who he is, even.

All right. I know you're here, you limey
piece of...

Clive.

Hi.

You don't want to get between me and
Clive, you got me?

Because I can't be responsible for who
gets caught in the crossfire. Could be

you, could be him, it could be her.

We understand each other?

Now, wait a second. Good.

I'll be back.

Let me get him. That was Marty.

Hey, if you just let me explain.

I will, I swear.

Let me

go.

Could we talk about this inside?

I wish Crumb were here.

He'd know what to do.

Well, can we contact him?

No, you can't because Chrome is on a
river in Montana, sleeping in tents.

I went looking for Gary Hobson. The
paper said he assisted you.

Hello,

Clive. Hi, Charles, Gary, Marissa. I
have a friend to introduce.

This lovely young thing.

It's Faye Davis.

I gotta hand it to you, Clive. You got a
devoted bunch of friends.

I am not his friend, nor am I a young
thing. Listen to me, you patronizing,

double -dealing floor flusher. You will
finish what you started or I'll see you

behind bars. I swear it. Faye. Don't
Faye me. Faye? You've got till Friday.

Faye. If that painting isn't back where
it belongs, I will find you and

personally nail your sorry hide to the
wall.

Nice meeting you.

Lovely woman.

Absolutely no sense of humor.

You want to explain?

Now, listen, Harbors... No, no, wait a
second. Don't call me Harbors. Let me

tell you something. The last two days,
I've had a gun stuck in my nose I've

shot at and almost ran over. So, now,
why don't you try to explain right now?

I suppose you're right.

And the truth, Clive?

The whole and nothing but.

So help me God.

Oh, Lord, where that woman can hit.

We're waiting.

Right, well, let me take you back to
London. The swinging 60s. Home of

young art student Clive Harlson.

Night in, night out, he would toil
diligently in his Chelsea studio to hone

craft, to summon forth art from the
chaos.

His paintings were received politely,
but something was missing.

All too quickly, he recognised his own
limitations. No fresh ideas, no

originality. His real gift was for
mimicry.

In copying the masters, it was as if the
spirit of the artist entered into him.

He could reproduce their works with
uncanny accuracy and understanding.

Now, once that gift was recognized, our
young hero's life took a somewhat

unusual turn.

Many a man's vices have been nothing
worse than good qualities run wild.

So it was with the brilliant new art
thief who came to be known as the

chameleon. Wait a minute, wait a minute.
Let me get this straight.

You steal a famous painting.

You replace it with a copy, and no one
ever found out?

Well, in some cases, the curators know,
but they're too embarrassed to admit

they've got a forgery on their walls.

So, how'd you get mixed up with Marty?

Marty, yes. Well, despite his boorish
manners, Marty Jarmusch was plugged into

certain strata of modern -day robber
barons who would gladly overpay for a

of artwork they could never publicly
display or even acknowledge.

Well, what about your conscience? Didn't
that bother you?

My conscience?

Um... Yes, well, it tugged a bit on
occasions.

But I was young, Marissa, intoxicated
with the good life.

Besides, I figured if my copies were
fooling the experts, then the public

really losing out.

Anyway, all my sins compared to those
who were underwriting my career. So then

what happened, Clive?

Well, all good things come to an end.

And one hot summer night in
Torremolinos, Marty blundered.

In a rare fit of generosity, he made a
gift to a dark lady of his acquaintance.

A watercolour by Goya.

Recently liberated by yours truly from a
nearby villa.

Unfortunately, the police were onto the
theft and caught him red -handed.

Poor Marty, he took the fall and so me.

Ah, the vicissitudes of fortune.

How the wheel turns.

Somehow the years passed and I found
myself in Chicago.

where a local businessman who'd made an
illegal fortune through insider trading

expressed keen interest in a Vincent van
Gogh he'd long admired.

In the course of researching the
assignment, I met a young woman by the

Faye Davis, recently employed as a
curator of the museum.

Drawn together by a mutual interest in
art, we soon developed a warm

Fay knew nothing of my chosen
profession.

I pulled off the Van Gogh job without a
hitch.

Unfortunately, I hadn't counted on Fay's
expertise.

She detected the forgery, put two and
two together, and came up with me.

We talked things over, and I solemnly
undertook to mend my ways.

To it, to return the painting, give up
crime, and make an honest woman out of

Fay.

Or perhaps I should say, allow her to
make an honest man out of me. So you

going to marry her?

What else could I do? I finally met my
match.

But she got cold feet.

Well, not exactly.

So she got cold feet. If you just let me
finish.

Let him finish.

Finish.

I set out to retrieve the Van Gogh from
its new home. I told Faye to meet me at

the museum at midnight, when who should
come crawling out of the upholstery but

say goodbye, Clive. My old pal.

One of the worst to wear after three
years in a Spanish prison, Marty was in

extremely truculent state of mind.

Only my quick wit saved me from a grisly
fate.

I had to disappear double quick, and
Faye, poor Faye, was left in the lurch,

feeling betrayed and abandoned.

So you never contacted her?

What can I say that she never believed?

Hell hath no fury in all that.

Besides, I figured that fate was trying
to tell me something.

That it was too late to change.

You know, once a thief.

So how long ago was this, Clive?

Three years.

Yeah, I laid low in a variety of
countries.

Finally made it back here to the one
place I figured they wouldn't look for

The scene of the crime.

I made a living painting portraits.

Children, mostly.

I was beginning to think I'd put my past
behind me. And then we ran into each

other. Yes, well, no regrets there.

Saving Doris was one of the few acts I
can look back on with unabashed pride.

I should be grateful to you, old man.

Let me get this straight.

This museum has your Van Gogh.

So where is Van Gogh's Van Gogh?

Well, actually, not very far from here,
in a private home.

So now what?

Oh, I would have thought it was obvious.

I retrieved the picture and I replaced
it in the museum.

It's either that or face the fury of
Faye Davis, which is a fate I'd rather

avoid.

So you're going to steal that painting?

In a nutshell, yes. And not to worry,
hobos.

I may be out of practice, but this last
new business is like riding a bicycle.

Oh, better go.

I've got a lot of work to do.

Not to worry, hobos.

I won't mind. I told you, this is my
chair.

He's mauled by guard dogs arrested.

You

don't

want to help him? Help him? The guy's a
crook. What a nice crook.

He has a good heart, Gary.

He just went down the wrong road for a
while. He's been down the same wrong

for 20 years now. But it was for a good
cause.

Yeah, something like stealing from the
rich to enlighten the poor. Look, you'd

be giving him a chance to redeem
himself, to start over again, and do

with his life.

What you two want me to do is you want
me, with a known felon, to break into a

private residence and steal a painting.

A stolen painting that was illegally
obtained by a guy who made millions

cheating in the stock market.

You want to take my car?

This is what comes of feisty research.

Are you hungry, pup?

Nice doggy. What was that?

Sleeping pelt.

Good boy.

Nice doggy.

That was quick.

Well, I'm much obliged to you, chap, but
how on earth did you find me?

Well, I read an article.

Ten richest guys in Chicago and three of
them happened to be art buffs, so we

went to the first two houses earlier,
which is why we were late.

What about the dog?

The dog was in the article.

Oh, I see.

Oh, right, well, I'll be off then.

Good hunting.

Wait a minute. I'm not going anywhere.

Look at that.

Don't do that.

Now what?

The painting. There's a passive infrared
motion detector.

Lord, you're right.

Crafty beggar. Yeah.

Yeah, but how on earth did you find that
out?

Like the article.

That is one well -researched story.

All right, this is going to take some
careful maneuvering.

All right.

Steady on, old man.

Cool and calm.

Yeah.

Hey, check it out.

They got an autographed Michael Jordan
sneaker.

I'm steady as you go.

You know, I think these are the very
same shoes he wore against the Jazz in

finals.

This is an original Van Gogh, huh?

How much is a thing like this worth?

On the open market, something upwards of
$30 million.

$30 million?

For something like this?

Guy can't even stay inside the lines.

Right, now for that museum. This could
be tricky.

Um, I might need some help here.

Help? Some help with what?

Oh, nothing elaborate, Hoppers. And this
time there won't be any dogs.

Let me tell you something. First of all,
my name's not Hobbers. And second of

all, they don't have dogs at museums.
They've got guards with guns.

Clive, why don't you just turn the
painting over to the police anonymously

something? I can't do it, dear. There's
Fay to consider.

Fay?

Yes.

Oh, didn't I tell you? She was the
curator of the museum when I stole the

Gogh. If it came out that the museum had
accepted a piece of forged art while

she was on watch, so to speak, it would
just ruin her reputation.

No, the only way I can put these things
right is to break into that museum

myself and replace the painting.

How are plans shaping up?

Hey, talk with the devil.

Hey. My God.

You did it.

Uh, the first part, yes.

Uh, Faye, could we talk out there?

Fantastic. Yeah, isn't it, Jess? Would
you excuse us? Sure, um, make yourselves

at home.

Uh, just through here.

What are you doing here?

Isn't it obvious?

Keeping an eye on you.

No need for that. I gave you my word.

Yes, well, we both know what that's
worth, don't we?

Faye, about that night, I... What?

Nothing.

It would have worked anyway.

Yeah, well, that's all.

Blood under the bridge, isn't it?

So how are you getting on in New York?
Guggenheim still treating you well?

How did you know I was working at the
Guggenheim?

I like to keep my hand in it. You've had
several offers.

I understand the Getty wanted you.

If I'm treating smog, forget it.

You always were a snob.

You're looking well, Faye.

Don't.

I never stopped thinking about you.

Not ever.

Ow.

Didn't know you still cared.

Don't flatter yourself. I stopped
thinking about you a long time ago.

Faye, you are a terrible liar.

Not as big as you are.

You had a gift, Clive.

He turned your back on it.

I'm a copyist, a mimic, that's all.

Maybe you are just a thief.

So what time do we start?

Thank you.

thank you

I can't believe I'm doing this.

Yeah, it's like the blind leading the
blind, huh?

Ten minutes. Everybody understand their
roles?

Yes, sir. We go to the museum, we fall
to pieces, and we get arrested.

Steady on, Charles.

Just do as we rehearsed. Everything will
work out like clockwork.

Everything is under control.

Oh, not everything.

Ooh, what is this, a private party? Or
is anyone welcome?

Look, Marty, let her go. Just take me in
her place, all right?

Trade her life for yours.

Yeah, lady, I think you've just been
insulted.

What do you want, Marty?

Well, now, what could it possibly be?

All right, let's see.

Her life for the keys to your car.

No, no.

Her life for a certain piece of art.

Getting warmer.

Her life for a certain $30 million piece
of art.

Ah, now we're getting hot.

Clive. Here, Marty, take it. It's yours.
Just go.

Uh -huh, uh -huh, I see.

Her life for a fake Vanco. Now that's
what I call a real smart trade.

Yeah, but see, the thing is, Marty, it's
not a fake. It's the real thing.

Oh, right, right. And you guys have gone
and you've formulated this incredibly

elaborate plan to steal the fake.

Yeah. That makes perfect sense to me.

Monty. One more word out of you, she's
toast.

Now, let's get this show on the road.
Shake it.

You know, I'm sure you got a great plan,
Clive. Tell me all about it on the way.

Move it. Let's go.

You're not going to need a paper where
we're going.

Shake it.

It's showtime.

Marty, would you listen to me? These
people are innocent.

The only reason they're involved is
because of a remarkable sense of

and decency.

Now, come on, Marty. Let them go. I
implore you.

Look, I'll get you the Van Gogh myself.

Or I'll turn myself in. Whatever you
want.

Your recent conversion to sainthood is
truly touching, Clark.

But what's beginning to really bug me is
how stupid you think I am.

Now let's get going.

Well, let's go, Marissa. All right.
Phase one.

Nice try.

Excuse me, miss. We close in five
minutes.

Oh, thank you.

I couldn't help noticing, but you were
wondering what a blind person is doing

an art museum.

Frankly, yes.

You may find this hard to believe, but
sometimes I can feel the painting.

Some of these works exude such an aura,
I can sense the color and the form right

off the canvas.

Wow. Kind of a metaphysical thing.

Exactly.

As a matter of fact, sometimes I get so
inspired, I do a little painting myself.

Amazing. It is, isn't it?

Well, I, uh...

I have to call for my ride. Could you
please... Oh, yes.

Phones are down the hall on the left.
Thank you.

I feel a painting. Oh, brother.

The scene will be closing in five
minutes.

Listen, Clay, this may not be the most
opportune time to say this, but I meant

everything I said back at the bar.

I never stopped thinking about you.

Never.

And I... I just... Me too.

I think I need a hanky here.

No more musher. I plug her now.

Yeah, this is Andrews over at the
University of Chicago Art Museum.

I've got a break -in alarm on the second
floor.

Okay, is that some guys over?

Hey, pal, do we have a security
violation here? Who are you? Well, my,

Gilliland, internal and systems
management.

I got a beep. What's the situation?

It looks like a second -story emergency
exit.

Oh, did you call the police?

Yeah, just a minute ago. I was going to
go check it out myself.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, no heroics. You let
the pros do what they're paid to do. Got

that? Got it. Good.

What's the problem here? We got a little
situation here, officer.

That was quick. Yeah, we had 36 over 18,
25 minutes. I had to give a quick 10

-4. Oh, well, we got a possible intruder
on the second floor. Emergency exit at

14, 24, 16.

Oh, well, go check it out.

Yeah, you do that, officer. Check it out
right away. Thank you.

Hey, how's it going?

Well, as the man said when he jumped off
the 20 -story building, so far, so

good. By my watch, we've got five
minutes before the real police arrive.

yours. See you in the car.

Oh, yeah? I've designed security systems
all over the world.

The Louvre.

In Paris.

Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Cleveland.

The, uh... Ah, here's your problem.

Oh!

A blind lady?

Sorry, I got lost.

If you don't mind, I'll let you take it
from here, huh? Right, sorry to bother

you.

He's having some sort of an attack or
something.

Hey, buddy.

You need a doctor or something?

A pill. What?

My pill. You've got to do something.
Help him.

Take it easy, little fella. Take it
easy.

In my pocket.

My pocket.

Thank you.

You okay?

I have a genetic condition.

To prevent bloating? The brain.

Blows up like a pumpkin.

But, uh, I'm feeling much better now.

Well, you sure?

Yeah, yeah. I'll tell you what, huh?

Why don't I escort the lady out and you,
uh, keep an eye on things over here,

okay? Okay.

Good luck.

Shall we?

Shall we?

Hey.

Rush, you old man.

These things cannot be rushed.

All right, there we are.

Bravo!

Marty, I was getting on my own.

All right, well, where's Fanny?

Found the gag in the van, Clyde. But not
to worry, I didn't hurt her.

She stood her enough to get involved
with you. I figure, well, that's

enough. Okay, hand it over.

Come on, sonny, don't be a fool. I said
hand it over.

Wait a minute. How do I know if this is
the real one or not?

Hey, you know, it's the real one. Look,
you know where I live, you know where I

work. Ah, shut up.

My boy, I'd twug you right now.

But I think you'll suffer a lot more
knowing how much I'm going to be

it up on my percentage of it.

I think you're about five mil, Nespa.

Toodles, mate.

Five million?

It's rather an optimistic figure, don't
you think, for a fake Van Gogh?

Yeah, but I gave him the real one. Come
on, let's go. You gave him the real one?

Come on, let's go.

What did you give him the real one for?

Hold it right there!

Now! Keep it up! Hands up! Let's go!

Quiet! Don't move, it's right there.

This would cost you your job!

He doesn't look very happy, does he?

So Marty gets caught with the real

painting. The police figured he was
inside the museum, so we have to catch.

And the illustrious career of the
chameleon comes to an end.

Finally brought to justice.

Well, wait a minute. Marty wasn't the
chameleon. You are.

Well, the police, they don't know that.
I won't tell if you don't.

Say no evil, speak no evil.

Tell me, Hobbers, you snide beggar, how
did you manage this one?

Yeah, Hobbers, I was going to name the
same thing, considering you didn't have

any visual aid this time, if you know
what I mean.

Oh, well, I was... Well, we were running
late, and I figured the police couldn't

be far away when Morty showed up, so it
was a rare opportunity, and I took it.

Improvisational art.

Yeah, something like that.

Very good.

Now, how'd you get?

Huh?

And, uh...

Take this silly toy with you, will you?

Because Faye and I have got, ooh, three
years to catch up on.

We do?

Oh, we do.

Well,

we can take a hit. Come on, Spike.

Come on, Spike.

Hey, you only have to tell us one.

Oh, uh, well, uh...

That was an interesting evening.

Yeah, still pretty early.

Hey, you guys want to get some dinner?

No, I'm going home to bed.

What's the matter with you?

What do you mean, what's the matter?
What's the matter with me? I'm tired. I

want to go to bed. Is that all right
with you? Stick in the mud?

You need a little excitement in your
life, Gary.

Excitement in my life? What did we just
do tonight?

All work and no play makes Gary a very
dull boy.

Exactly. You know how silly that sounds.
You know, I usually don't agree with

Gary, but for once he's right.

I'm right.

We've had quite a few emails and letters
asking whether Shalisha Davis

-Williams, who plays Marissa, is
actually blind in real life. And the

no, she isn't blind, but spent plenty of
time with the Chicago Guild of the

Blind in order to research her role
throughout the series.

Next on Hallmark, a Perry Mason mystery.