All language subtitles for BostonLegal.3.04.FineYoungCannibal.EN

Previously on Boston Legal…

Denny, somehow I've grown
rather fond of Shirley.

Well, you can't have her.
A man doesn't eat where his friend…

–Schmidts?
–Exactly.

The fact is, many HMO's
are outsourcing major surgery.

When a person is told
she needs heart surgery,

she does not expect to be
shipped to India to have it.

Judge Marcia Hooper
was found murdered last night.

We were having an affair.

–What's going on?
–The police just arrested Scott Little.

–Maybe I should do it.
–You mean, kill judge Hooper?

He's talking to a therapist.

You gave the tape to the police
the afternoon of her death?

Well, I gave it to her husband.

What?

No, no, no, no, we're not
gonna be making any statements.

It hurts me way more
than it hurts you.

You know how much I love to talk.

Let's just say we're very happy that
Scott Little is out of that jail cell,

a place he shouldn't
have been to begin with.

The fact that they would let
an accused killer out at all

goes to show what a joke our
criminal justice system has become,

where the haves get one form of justice
and the have-nots get none at all.

Denny, you have got
to gag this woman.

–I would love to.
–Evidently, she plans to attend the trial.

Gracie Jane's coming to Boston?

Well, she lost John Mark Karr.

I am a nervous wreck.

It doesn't matter
how many trials I do.

Every one is like the first one.

Who's he?

Paul Lewiston, Bethany Horowitz.
We're in trial together.

It all comes down
to opening arguments, you know?

80% of all trials, the jury makes up
its mind after the opening.

You shouldn't smoke.
It'll stunt you.

Um, never mind.

What, you've never seen
a smoking dwarf before?

Bethany, are you okay to do this?

Of course I'm okay.

I just get opening-day jitters.

You know what I do
when I get anxious?

–No, and I don't want to know.
–It works.

You are a sicko, perverted,
lewd, disgusting sleaze.

It's sexual, this ear pinch.

Yes. Pinching the ear
gives you blood flow.

When's the last time you got that
without taking a pill?

Boston Legal
3x04. Fine Young Cannibal

(edited by ΤΖΩΤΖΙΟΥ)

ORIGINAL AIR DATE ON ABC: 2006/10/10

(edited by ΤΖΩΤΖΙΟΥ)

–Two out of three.
–What?

One of us has to cozy up to Dr Simon.
He's a serial flirt.

Jeffrey thinks we can
infiltrate his discretion.

I'll take odds.
Okay, ready?

–Oh, please.
–Come on.

One, two, three, shoot.

Yes! Again.

One, two, three, shoot.

Yes!

–Great.
–He bellies up to the bar at McCabe's at 6.

Wear some perfume.

What's going on?

Paul, judge Hooper, the victim's husband,
I hear you know him.

I do.

He's basically the only one who can
give us any details on his wife's life.

Jeffrey's been shot down.
Could you try?

Unless you'd rather flirt with Dr Simon.

Judge Brown just assigned me a cannibal.
You're second chairing.

Did you say “cannibal”?

I figured if any lawyer could relate—

I didn't know Massachusetts
had cannibals.

It's “don't ask, don't tell”.

We're meeting the client at 11.

Thanks for volunteering.

Wait, no. Why me?

Because this case is disgusting.

It's distasteful.
It's repugnant.

–Everything I stand for.
–I'll drive.

Shirley, is this about getting
in a room with me?

Yes, Alan.

I went out and recruited a cannibal
just to get close to you.

The idea of two consenting adults
savouring one another's meat—

11 o'clock.
I'll bring the condiments.

Look at that picture there closely.
What do you see?

–A dead woman.
–No, no, that one there.

–Still dead.
–On the nightstand.

–Flowers.
–Flowers.

Flowers wrapped in tissue
and under that, newspaper.

They're not even in water yet.

Somebody just brought her these flowers.

Who would bring her flowers, Jeffrey?

Not her husband.
He doesn't even seem to like her.

And I don't think Scott would,

since people having illicit affairs
don't tend to leave behind clues.

And newspaper?
What kind of florist uses newspaper?

No, these flowers are from
someone's private garden.

–Lincoln Meyer.
–I think he was there that night.

Maybe after he saw the boy leave,
he went in.

Is she okay?

She's panting like a dog.

I heard that.

–Are you okay to do this?
–This is how I get, all right?

Maybe I'm especially nervous here,
because I need to make them settle.

I know I can't prove malpractice.

Not to worry.
–We all get nervous, Bethany.

I do not want to hear what you do.

What I do before I open

is I remind myself who I am,
how I got here.

There's a reason
I'm sitting in the courtroom.

So before I get up,
I say to myself,

“I'm Denny Crane.”

And that's what you've got to do.

So before you get up,

take a deep breath
and you say to yourself,

“I am a midget.”

All rise.

His name was Joseph Greenberg.

He was my best friend,

my only friend.

And you ate him.

I'm not a cannibal.

I'm not what they're
making me out to be.

They have a witness who saw you,

“chewing on a thigh.”

I was cremating him.

We had made a pact that
if one died and the other didn't…

And while he was burning,

I happened to be starving.

I hadn't had a meal in weeks.

It's just that he was there,
and I tried it.

I tried it.

I was weak with hunger.
I was delirious. I…

I don't know.
I was curious.

And I took a bite.
It was stupid.

May I ask?

This was your friend.

Uh, when he died, why didn't
you notify the authorities?

To be cremated,
you need a next of kin.

The medical examiner
won't take responsibility

for burning a homeless person
without permission.

So people out on the streets,
buddies of ours,

end up rotting on a slab
in a warehouse downtown.

Joe deserved better than that.

You face a number of serious charges.

Violating the health code,
desecration of a human body.

Am I gonna go to jail?

Let us talk to the district attorney.

I'm sorry.
I want to help you.

I really do,

but there'll be no plea,
no discussion of one,

and frankly, no leniency
when it comes to sentencing.

This is you wanting to help us?

–Shirley… can I call you “Shirley”?
–No.

If this were just about one
homeless man desecrating another…

We wouldn't care.

But this is about the sanctity
and morality of a society,

the human race, in fact.

Oh, God, you're not gonna drag
the human race into this, are you?

–Mr Shore—
–Actually, I prefer to be called “Shirley.”

It gives me a tickle.

Knowing you, you probably plan
to get up in the end

and deliver some stirring closing
like, “cannibalism is good.”

“The world needs more people
devouring each other.”

No, we already have enough of that.

My problem is the American people
have been so desensitized to atrocity,

we just turn an indifferent ear and eye
to the most heinous of conduct.

Well, I am not going to turn away.

I'm going to make
a firm and public stand.

Almost sounds as if
you're running for something.

Oh, gee, you are.

Tell me, why saddle up on this issue?
Was pædophilia taken?

No deal.

He goes to jail.

And tell your boy,
between now and trial,

he'd better not eat anyone else.

Tell me, Mr Vote-for-me-come-November,

what if you lose this trial?
Did that ever occur to you?

Funny, it didn't.

Perhaps it should.

I would love to see how
you're gonna win this one.

Shirley.

All right, we'll first hear
from the plaintiff's attorney.

Ms Horowitz.
–Thank you, your honor.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury—

I beg your pardon.

May I have a word
with counsel, please?

–What?
–I apologize, your honor.

It's just, we may be
able to resolve this.

If I could just speak with her
for a minute…

Take two if it'll resolve it.

$400,000.
Final offer.

Good for 30 seconds.

What do you mean,
“good for 30 seconds”?

Better confer with your client.

Clock is ticking.

–He just offered $400,000.
–Just like that?

–But it's only good for 30 seconds.
–What? What do you mean?

I mean, he put a clock on it.
Half a minute.

$400,000 is a lot of money.

Are you kidding?
Take it!

–This would be my advice.
–We can get more.

You don't even know the case.

I can always get more.

Just say yes!

–We accept your offer.
–Oh, jeez.

The offer was only good for 30 seconds,
and you took 33.

Offer rescinded.

Guess you'll have to
resume your opening.

He baited me deliberately.

He did this because the book on you is

you're less effective
when you lose your cool.

Oh, shut up!

This is exactly the state
of mind that he wants you in.

It was an offer made in bad faith.

I should bring a motion for sanctions.

That wouldn't make any difference.

–Shut up!
–Shut up yourself!

Now listen to me.

You're the badger.

Now you can either let this guy win
by rattling you with a cheap stunt,

or you could march yourself
into that courtroom

and deliver the opening of your life.

It's in your hands, Bethany.

Are you a winner or not?

Hello, Brian.

What are you doing in my chambers?

First, let me extend
my condoleances—

Please leave my chambers, Paul.

We have a very difficult job to do,

which you can certainly understand,
if not appreciate.

You're profiteering
off my wife's death.

If you came in here looking
for my sympathy—

Only your cooperation.

You won't get it.
I'll ask you again to leave.

–My friend—
–I'm certainly not your friend.

As part of our defense, we will be trying
to focus suspicion on other suspects.

–I asked you—
–I think you need to hear me out.

We know from our investigation so far

that both you and your wife were
being treated by Dr Zachary Simon.

We also have reason to believe

that your late wife was engaged
in extramarital relations with other men.

I can explore this with you now

or in a much more public forum
during your testimony.

–You're threatening me?
–I am informing you

that we will do whatever
we have to to protect our client.

On the chance that
somebody else killed her,

you must be willing to at least—
–Your client killed my wife.

There's no evidence of
anyone else even being there.

Except you.

Is that where you're going
with your defense, Paul?

We will go down any path
that leads to reasonable doubt,

and yes, my friend.

That is a threat.

I came around the back of the building,

and that's when I saw it.

What did you see?

First, I saw a flame.

And as I got closer,
I saw him.

–The defendant?
–Yes.

And what else did you see?

He was eating something,
meat off a bone on the fire.

And what I saw next,
well, I couldn't believe my eyes.

What?

Not to interrupt, but might this be
a good time to take a break?

Sit down!

Tell us what you saw, miss Baker.

For those of us who don't watch the news

or the district attorney's
self-serving press conferences.

Mr Shore, I will hold you in contempt!

–Oh, now I'm the bad guy?
–Sit, sit, sit!

Miss Baker, tell the jury
what you saw next.

A dead human body
cooking over an open fire,

and that man was eating
part of the leg.

–Are you sure?
–Yes, I'm sure.

It was the most disgusting, awful,
horrible, grotesque thing I ever saw!

–She left out—
–Shocking!

There we go.

Here's what doesn't make sense to me.

There was no evidence
of his fingerprints.

Nada, zip, zilch, nothing.

How could that be
if he was there delivering documents,
making love to the victim,

doing who knows what?

The only explanation can be?
He wiped the prints away.

Why would he do that
if he wasn't guilty?

–Hi. Um, a vodka neat, please.
They ought to gut him like a fish.

I have said it before.
I will say it again.

He is guilty, guilty, guilty.
Until then…

The media just can't
get enough, can they?

Oh, yeah.

I think he did it.

I mean, who else if not him?

Well, I can't really comment.

Why not?

I'm connected with the case.

You are?

The accused was one of my patients.

You're his doctor?

The victim was a former patient.

Oh, you're lying.

I am not lying.

I'm connected with this, big-time.

Wow.

I hope you're not expecting me
to close on this.

Well, of course I am, Alan.
That's your niche.

Making the most unacceptable
of taboos sound…

Exotic?

I cannot stop thinking about
our little session last week.

We didn't have a session.

Admit it, Shirley.

You're drawn to me
like Eve to the serpent.

Take me home and help me
stretch my coil.

Has that line actually worked?

It's working now.

I'm not trying to convince you
of something you don't already want.

I often find that men who like to
talk about it usually disappoint.

All I ask for is a chance.

I'm down on my knees
if you'd like that.

The problem is,
men don't get over me.

–Really?
–Not to sound immodest,

but I'm very good in bed.

In fact, I'm rather phenomenal.

And then there's
the biggest obstacle of all.

Which is?

–Denny.
–Denny who?

He's your best friend, Alan.
It would hurt him.

Suppose I got this...
Denny's blessing.

Get his blessing.
Then we'll talk.

Well, he didn't exactly flow
with information,

but the reason he discontinued
seeing Marcia Hooper

was because there was trouble
in domestic paradise,

and he felt he couldn't ethically
represent both husband and wife.

And he thought Marcia Hooper
was infatuated with him.

What?

Yeah, he said it's very common
with therapists and patients.

It's called transference.

He also asked me out.

Sometimes a district attorney
must safeguard not just the law,

but human decency itself.

This was a crime against
morality, against God.

What has happened to our community?

–Denny, I…
Our society?

When it becomes okay

Why do you have
clothespins on your ears?

Mm, personal.

Denny…

I lay awake in bed last night
taking measure of our special friendship.

Do you ever do that?

–We're flamingoes.
–Yes!

And what I discovered to be
the root, one of the roots,

of our interlocking bond
is our unfettered ability to share,

be it our intimacies,
our fears, our successes.

My root is your root.

If I should ever like
to drive your car…

I'd toss you my keys.

–If I should ever need any money…
–My check is blank.

–Or need to pick your brain…
–My mind is blank.

Anything you have or once
did have is there for me.

Except for Shirley.

Keep your root away from Shirley.

–She told you.
–Told me what?

My friend…

One of my goals in life is to go to
all the places you've gone, and…

Just don't go to Shirley.

She's mine.

–Denny—
–No.

Okay, Ms Horowitz, let's
give this another go, shall we?

My client's wife needed heart surgery.

And so her HMO stuck her on a plane
and sent her to India to have it,

where she died on the table.

The reason she was sent to India
is because it's cheaper.

It's called medical outsourcing.

It goes on all the time,
and I'm sure you know this.

And you know what?

If I needed surgery,
I might consider making the schlep.

Why should I pay $90,000
for heart surgery

when I can get the same thing
over there for $10,000.

The problem is that Cindy Potter
didn't get to make that choice,

because when she signed on
with Wellness health care,

all of the surgeries were done here.

When that policy was modified,
she couldn't switch HMO's,

because by then, she had
a preexisting heart condition,

and nobody else would take her,

at least not at a price
that she could afford,

so she had to get on that plane.

My client here, he had to work.

He couldn't go with her,

and his wife died
on the other side of the world.

Now I can't really put
a price tag on that, can you?

Now I know it's not
the defendant's fault

that medical expenses
are out of control here.

I don't blame the defendant
that half of Americans are uninsured.

In fact, I give them credit
for searching for a solution.

But come on.

Shipping a patient with a heart
condition to India is not a solution.

It can't be.
We have to be better than that.

This is America.

They should be banging down
congress' doors.

They find it cheaper to go to India.

And they said they might
be calling me early.

I could be the lead-off witness.
Can you imagine?

You're gonna be on television.

I'll be on “Gracie Jane.”

These are some beautiful
flowers, Lincoln.

I grew them myself.
I'm very botanical.

Oh, I can see that.

Hey, Lincoln,

I was reading Mrs Hooper's affidavit

in support of her motion
for a restraining order.

It didn't seem to me like she
was infatuated with you at all.

Her husband put her up to that.
He's evil.

She said some terrible things about you,

called you “psychologically
disturbed, sick.”

That had to hurt.

Bet it made you angry even.

I don't like the tenor
of your remark.

No, I'm just saying here's
this woman that you adored.

Bet you loved to bring her flowers, huh?

And in a public document,
she calls you “sick,”

“mentally unbalanced.”

I recognize your tenor, Mr Coho.

I'm not stupid.

You mean to imply
that I killed her.

I loved her.

I cherished her.

You are not welcome
in my home anymore,

you and your inappropriate tenor.

I'll ask you to leave.

The bad news is we were unable
to find any character witnesses.

It seems your only friend was Joseph.

Is there any good news?

“Primetime” wants to have you on.

During Sweeps they want you
to eat Diane Sawyer.

Sorry.

Why do you need a character witness?

Well, the jury could be
looking at you like…

You need to demonstrate to them
that you are not a monster.

Maybe I am a monster.

I burned my best friend.

I ate him.

Maybe I'm every bit of…

You're not a monster, Mr Nichols.

What kind of person ends up
by himself on the street?

I don't have one single friend
that can speak on my behalf.

You're not a monster,

and you're not a criminal.

All we can do is
to call you to the stand.

You need to explain to the jury,
as sympathetically as you can,

why you did what you did.

It's not fair.
You can't just claim women for all time.

I only claim Shirley.

–What about Ivan Tiggs?
–She married him.

Why don't you take the girl
I married last year?

You can have her.
–I want Shirley.

I can understand how you feel.

When I was 15, I had
this enormous crush on a girl.

Diana Coralac.

She was a fetching goddess.
She developed early.

But she liked this kid George.

So one day I went to George
and I said, uh,

“I'll wrestle you for her,”
and why he agreed I don't know,

but within four seconds
I flipped him on his back,

sat on his head and he tapped out.

And then I spent the night
in Diana's fetching bosom.

It was magic.

I challenge you, Denny.

To what?

You're going to wrestle?

Why not?
It's not like he can beat me.

And you think I'm the prize?

You're always the prize, Shirley.

Of all the humilia—
how dare you?

Making me the prize
in a wrestling match?

Oh, get over yourself.

Man has done battle to get the girl
since the beginning of time.

Man has evolved, Alan,

with the exception,
of course, being Denny.

Thank you.

Shirley, admit it.

This has to be a little thrilling.

Thrilling? Two fat boys
fighting it out on a mat?

You know the problem
with mankind, Shirley?

Oh, God.

We legislate our morality,

our beings with this code of reason and
common sense and respectable restraint.

And it leaves no room for passion,
for bestial yearning.

It leaves Jack a very dull boy
and Jill thoroughly unsatisfied.

How rich this moment is
if you think of it.

Two men in their sexual—

Okay, twilight, are about to enter a cage
for the right to nestle into your loins,

to uncork your holy grail.

This is life, Shirley!
We're ready to kill for you.

This is the very essence of life.

What he said, totally.

How's the case going?

Could be better.

If you ask me, plea murder two.
Good behavior, kid's out in six.

I don't think Jeffrey's
gonna want to plead.

Of course not.
Give up his 15 minutes?

Brad, he's coming in
with another offer.

–Who?
–The disgusting slimeball defense lawyer.

This time I think it's for real.
He asked to continue the trial.

This woman is a starer.
Where's Denny?

In his office.

I don't like starers.

I wasn't staring.

I was only trying to cremate him
according to his wishes.

As a homeless person,

he would have ended up decomposing
on a slab alone somewhere till…

I couldn't allow for that.

Okay, but at some point
during the cremation ceremony,

you decided to eat your friend.

We had both read the book,

the account of the soccer team that was
on the plane that crashed in the Andes.

The survivors had to eat
some of the dead bodies

so that they could continue to survive.

None of them were arrested,
by the way, if you read the book.

You and Joseph talked about this?

Yes, not, not that, that's
what I planned to do that night at all.

I'm just saying that what I did do
was not contrary to his wishes.

I think the jury would like
to know, why did you do it?

I was starving.

I hadn't had a meal
in two weeks…

I was starving.

First, let me preface.
This is not a negotiation.

This is a final offer.

Either you accept it,
or we return to court.

What's the number?

$650,000 absent any showing
of malpractice.

That's a gift.

We're just looking to avoid
the expense of a trial.

Yes or no?
What's it gonna be?

The thing about HMO's is
they're very good at math.

The expense of a trial
wouldn't come close to $650,000.

The other thing is
they don't make gifts.

It's the exposure of a trial that you're
worried about, and why shouldn't you be?

The future of your whole
business depends on outsourcing.

It saves you billions
and billions of dollars.

And the worst thing
that could possibly happen is

for some stigma to be
attached to the concept.

I told you,
this is not a negotiation.

The number's $950,000.
Are we going back to court or not?

I think we can make $950,000 work.

Good for you.

The dwarf fainted.

I am so embarrassed.

I have to admit, in my practice,

I have never
seen a number that big.

I'm sure you people
see it all the time.

You caused that number, Bethany.

You scared the hell out of them
with your opening.

They didn't dare stick around
for the closing.

I'm trying not to get emotional.

Thank you, Denny.

I'm so grateful to you.

Somehow in that vile,
disgusting shell of yours,

I think there must be a nice person.

I'd like to have lunch again,

start from scratch.

If I promised
not to call you a midget

and ask you to take
your clothes off—

This is you from scratch?

You're an extraordinary woman.

I don't get to meet many.

Give me a week or two
to forget what you're like.

Then we can have lunch.

We live in a time where almost
anything goes, don't we?

Gay marriage is barely
considered alternative anymore.

You go on the internet, you can find a club
for almost any kind of fetish,

however depraved.

We're a society where nothing
seems to shock us anymore.

Well, if we've reached the day

where burning the remains of a body
and cannibalism doesn't offend,

then I guess life has
no sanctity at all, does it?

No dignity.

Please deliver a verdict

that says there is sanctity
not just to the life of a human being,

but also the death.

A billion and a half Christians
routinely go to church on Sundays

and ceremoniously eat the body
of Christ, drink His blood.

“He who eats my flesh”

“and drinks my blood
abides in me and I in Him.”

Jesus said that.
–How dare you?

What?

Who have I offended now?

How dare you take
the holy sacrament literally?

Is that not done?

You have equated it
with a vile and despicable act.

I apologize, your honor.

I certainly don't mean
to indict holy communion,

but let's not carry on with the idea

that the notion of cannibalism
offends the sanctity of life.

It has roots not only in sacraments
not to be taken literally,

but also Greek mythology.

It's still glorified in certain sections
of both the south and I believe Malibu.

And I might add,
it's not illegal.

There's no federal law,
no Massachusetts law

that criminalizes cannibalism.

That's why Mr District attorney
my-name-appears-second-on-the-ballot–
this-November Ginsberg

has trumped up these other charges,

desecration and so forth and
lectured you on dignity and sanctity.

There is no dignity
in starving to death.

When a homeless person
is left to rot on a slab,

the sanctity of life
somehow gets trivialized.

Mr District attorney my-name-appears-second–
on-the-ballot-this-November Ginsberg

wants you to be offended.
You know what offends me?

We have in this country
over a million homeless people.

The government can't feed them,
can't give them shelter,

but hey, let's spend
$60,000 to $70,000

to prosecute one
who tried to stave off death,

let's spend another $45,000
a year to imprison him.

There is no dignity in that.
It's cruel.

Mr Nichols was cremating his friend

to prevent the indignity
of the unceremonious

and degrading decomposition of his body.

As for why he ate,
he told you.

He was starving.

When was the last time you starved?

How about you?

I know you're not starving,
except for attention.

Let's face it.
They only reason we're all here

is because cannibalism
makes for good television.

What better to satiate some
pre-election hunger pangs

than a bellyful of media attention?

Mr District attorney my-name-appears-second–
on-the-ballot-this-November Ginsberg knows that.

That's why he's handling
this case personally.

Not only does it give him a sensational
platform for his shameless self-promotion,

it also fits his notion of society,

that it's not about
understanding a homeless,

it's about prosecuting him.

Kinda makes you wonder,

who here is really the cannibal?

I'd be more than happy
to drive you home.

Oh, thank you.
I actually have my own car.

Um, which is actually right there.

Is that you don't
trust yourself with me?

Oh, wow, you really can
read people, can't you?

That's my job.

So can I see you again?

Sure.

Let's have something
to look forward to.

I'm a magnificent kisser.

Are you now?

I don't like to drop names but…

I once kissed Gina Gershon.

Did you?

We were out together…

in a group.

I happened to be driving
in the direction of her hotel,
so I offered her a lift.

And well, one thing led to another.

She confided in me that she had
never been kissed like that in her life.

Well… it's, uh…

always been a goal for… my mouth
to… go where Gina's has, but—

I dig you, Claire.

And I dig you, Zach.

Call me.

I will.

Oh, my God.

Why are you dressed like an Indian?

Growing up, my favorite wrestler
was chief Jay Strongbow.

You look like one of
the Village People.

Okay, are we ready?

Shouldn't we pee in a cup first?
I don't trust his testosterone levels.

Mine's naturally high.

3-minute rounds.

2 points for a takedown.
1 point for an escape.

If either of you tap out,
it's over.

Set?

Set.

Let's get it on.

Five seconds?

He cheated.
You can't squat on the head.

Five seconds?

Four, actually.

The defendant will please rise.

Madame foreperson,
would you kindly announce to the court
the outrageous verdict of the jury?

That's encouraging.

In the matter of the commonwealth of
Massachusetts vs Clarence Nichols

on the charge of desecrating human remains

in violation of the human welfare
and safety health code,

we find the defendant
Clarence Nichols

not guilty.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

Do you think we win too much?
Are we losing all suspense?

I don't know what to say.

–Congratulations.
–Thank you.

Thank you both.

Listen, we never let our contestants
go home empty-handed,

so along with the home version
of the Crane, Poole & Schmidt game,

here's a check for $5,000.

–What?
–What?

It's an experimental program.

It's called “we the fortunate should
endeavor to help the less fortunate.”

I'm sure it'll never fly.
Go have a nice meal, take a trip,

maybe splurge for
some health insurance.

I don't know what to say.

You people are amazing.

Bye.

You gave him your own money?

I wasn't using it.

Denny, I want a rematch.

–Forget it.
–You cheated.

I did not.

You know, the first time
I had sex with Shirley,

it went exactly like that.

I flipped her on her back,
and I sat on her head.

Hope it was better
for her than it was for me.

It was better for me.

It also lasted about four seconds.

Do you think you could ever
bring yourself to eat me?

I mean, say we were on a desert island,

and I died, and you were starving.

Could you eat me?

Could you eat me?

Well, I might be afraid
of the mad cow.

When I die,
I want to be buried, Denny.

I don't want to be cremated,
incinerated into nothingness.

Oh, what do you care?
When you're dead, you're dead.

I don't actually believe that.

I believe there's… something after.

Heaven?

I don't know, something.

Alan Shore believes man has a soul.
Stop the presses.

Don't you believe it?

Can this be all there is?

If so, have we wasted—

I haven't wasted a second.
I've enjoyed my ride.

All of it.

But will it truly have
counted for something?

You know the old joke, Alan?

A man shows up at the Pearly Gates,

sees this guy in a pinstriped suit
and a briefcase, a cigar prancing about.

And he says to saint Peter,
“who's that guy?”

Saint Peter says,
“Aw, it's just God.”

“He thinks he's Denny Crane.”

What would you do, Denny,
if you actually met God one day?

–I'd probably take him fishing.
–Indeed.

He'd probably want
to wrestle me for Shirley.

Indeed again.

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