Okay, let's go then.
Are you packed?
Don't forget the dog, honey.
How are you feeling?
He's not in the car, is he?
- Why is he talking about a dog? What dog? - We had a dog in Boulder.
- What is this? - We're in the hospital.
You're sick, remember?
But you're gonna be just fine.
Rita, lying to him doesn't help anybody but you.
Stop it.
- Nurse! - It's okay to let go.
I'm going to beat it.
But maybe you can't. You don't have to.
Why would you say that?
I don't want you to be scared.
I don't want to die.
I'm not gonna die.
That's just your body. It's not you.
That's bullshit, Eileen.
Excuse me.
Here you go.
We're going to increase your morphine, all right, Mr. Piper?
Do you see?
Rita, above his head.
The light.
Oh, yes, he's a good boy.
Better hurry up. We've got Mrs. Piper at 8:30.
Yeah, I'll be right there.
What are you doing, Dave? Downloading pics from mansluts. Com?
Great, Dave, thanks.
I thought we should have all the information.
- I have all the information. - I don't think you do.
If you don't get this treated...
you could have seizures with muscular twitching, loss of verbal skills.
You could even have some kind of hemorrhage at some point.
Or I could be in the wrong airplane at some point, or so could you.
All right? Come on.
The Parliament. It's very elegant.
Yes. I like it.
But Michael thinks it's tacky.
That's the Cleveland. It's a more affordable choice.
But, as you can see, it's not quite as gracious.
Really? No, but it's just so self-effacing.
But why?
- Mrs. Piper? - I'm sorry.
Can you excuse me for a moment? I can't carry on two conversations at once.
It's exactly like that horrible IKEA couch your mother bought us.
Michael claims to love this one.
In my opinion, he's trying to do what he thinks his mother wants...
which is typical, really.
Fine, deny it. Why change now?
Would you like to sit down for a minute?
I'm fine. It's just Michael's here.
He didn't want to deal with this stuff when he was alive.
You know, the funeral.
Now he's very opinionated.
I'm a psychic, so, you know...
That must be very interesting for you.
It's just more information.
This room has a lot of pain in it.
Well, yes.
You have a lot in your mind. On your mind, I mean. Don't you?
Yeah, I guess so.
Don't worry. It's okay, all right?
It's all gonna be okay.
Thanks.
Okay, honey, if it's what you want. It's your funeral.
Look, she gave me her card.
"Spiritual Consultation and Past Life Regression"?
For God's sake, who does this?
Who spends $100 to be told they were once Eleanor of Aquitaine?
Or whoever, the Marquis de Sade.
So what do you think happens after we die? Heaven?
- Or Hell. - Really?
But with angels, devils, or brimstone, or whatever?
I don't know what it looks like, or who's there...
but I do believe there are consequences for the way we live our lives.
You know, sometimes I kind of feel like Dad's around.
Do you ever?
Nope.
You know we have the Independent Funeral Directors' lunch today, right?
Why do I have to go? That's your thing.
It's your thing, too, now. These are your colleagues. You need to know them.
I know who they are. I met them in Vegas. They're freaks.
- They're not freaks. - Nobody likes the Brazil nuts, David.
Not the local guys.
I'm sure the LA morticians are a lot more fun than those from Montana.
You're an LA mortician now, Nate. This is your community.
It's polite for the first person downstairs to make the coffee.
Even if that person has a penis.
It's also polite for the first person who uses the bathroom...
to spend less than 45 minutes in there. Even if that person has a vulva.
- Oh, goodness, everyone's here. - With all their genitalia.
- Excuse me? - Mom, would you like some toast?
No, thanks. I have to be in the Valley by 10:30.
- What's in the Valley? - I'm going to a seminar.
- What seminar? - Something Robbie invited me to. The Plan.
Isn't that a cult?
No, it's one of those self-actualization things from the '70s...
where they yell for 12 hours and don't let you go to the bathroom.
Oh, no. Really? Should I bring some kind of jar?
- A jar? - I suppose that's not much of a solution.
You're on your own for dinner. I won't be back until after midnight.
The thought of Mom being self-actualized is kind of making me nauseous.
You sure it's not the thought of Mom pissing into a jar?
So, Tahira, why can't you forgive your father?
When I was 16...
he had a dream that I had given myself to a man...
who was not the husband I had been promised to.
For that, he set me on fire.
I was able to save myself.
But I had to leave the country so he would not kill me.
And always...
I will have the scars from this.
That's horrible. Truly horrible.
How could he do this to me?
But as long as you hold on to that anger toward your father...
you will be on fire.
You may have left the country, but you are still living in the same house.
And in that house, there is a room that is still burning.
Who lives in this room?
- I do? - Your father is still living in this room.
So you never invite anyone in, and you go through life alone.
You must open that door. Put out the flames.
You must invite your father to come visit you.
- But he won't even speak to me. - That is your old blueprint.
That is what you want to believe...
because you are too afraid to tear down the walls and rebuild.
Come on.
Stop blaming the victim.
All right, who here thinks I'm being unfair?
Be honest.
Ruth, do you agree? Until Tahira forgives her father...
she will never feel safe in her home.
- Well, maybe, but... - Speak up.
We all paid to hear you.
Why don't you stand?
Her father did such a terrible thing.
I don't see why she has to have him as a houseguest.
If you don't agree with me, why didn't you raise your hand?
I was just trying to understand your point.
Or do you think that your opinion doesn't matter?
That perhaps you are just a guest here?
Are you a guest in your own house, Ruth?
I don't think so.
Yes, she tiptoes around herself like she's afraid of waking someone up.
The only person sleeping in your house is you.
- I do have three children. - See? She's not even listening.
Ruth, you have to get out of bed...
open the windows, and let some light into your house...
so that you can see the way things are.
Then, and only then...
can you begin renovating your life.
So, Tahira, are you ready to renovate?
Yes, I think so.
So, when you call your father, what will you say first?
Hello?
Sorry, my beaker exploded.
That's okay. Catch your breath.
How's it going?
I have hydrochloric acid in my hair, but other than that, I'm fine.
Really?
No, but I'm incredibly bored with myself right now.
Let's talk about you. How's your girlfriend? What's her name?
Jenny. Fine, thanks.
How's it going with Gabriel?
I have no idea. I haven't even talked to him in two weeks.
Is that her?
- What does she do? - She's a jewelry designer.
Really? Does she have a store?
No, she has clients and she caters.
But we're not here to talk about Jenny.
It might help to tell me what you're going through right now.
It's no big fucking mystery. I mean, it sucks.
It sucks to be pretty much in love with a guy who's too fucked-up for life.
- What happened? - Nothing really. Just...
Whatever.
It's not even his fault.
And it fucking pisses me off. His whole family thing is so fucking unfair.
And I really just thought he needed... I don't know.
- You? - No.
But someone, maybe.
Some person on the planet who gives a fuck about him, for once in his life.
Yeah, I did think that would matter.
It does matter. No one can ever solve someone else's life.
So, basically, your job is totally pointless?
No one but a guidance counselor, I mean.
There they are.
That's the community? I thought this was an event.
It's an event.
- Didn't I meet one of those guys in Vegas? - Bobo from Peaceful Haven.
- Right. He spits. - Yes, he does.
Stan, Jack, Bobo. This is my brother, Nate.
- Nice to see you, Nate. - Nice to meet you, Jack.
Good seeing you, Bobo.
Congratulations.
We heard you just got your license to operate a moving funeral.
Yep, finally went pro.
- Well, sit. - No, go ahead.
- No, after you. Age before beauty. - Right.
David tells us that you are very gifted.
He does?
We were just giving Stan grief...
for poaching our customers with false advertising.
That sounds like something Kroehner would do.
Fucking Kroehner. Those cocksuckers.
Sorry. Those cunts.
So this family goes off the 405. We get five bodies, right?
In truth, my walk-in only holds three.
So my guy is working overtime to get everyone juiced.
But sometimes you have to leave them out for an hour or two beyond regulation.
It happens, right? But those Kroehner fucks...
are just waiting for a chance to send in their flacky at the DCA, and boom!
I get hit with a giant fine and a lawsuit.
I will ram a plastic screw up my anus...
before I give in to those fucks. No offense.
- Do we have a waitress? - Yeah, she'll be back with the fries.
Those fucks.
They are fucks. They're fucking evil fucks.
They're sucking up all the mom-and-pops.
Businesses that people spent their lives building up...
They don't care about people and lives.
All right, we appreciate your passion, but...
No, all they care about is money. It's not just our industry. It's everywhere.
When corporations try and squeeze out all the competitors...
the further management gets from labor, the more alienation in the workplace...
- the more meaningless all our lives become. - Fuck, yeah!
- It's hopeless, isn't it? - No, I don't think it is.
We have to stick together and save our energy to fight Kroehner.
- You know, Stan? - Yes. I love this guy. Terrific!
I don't know, Gary. Twice in one day?
Claire, this is Detective Reese.
Why don't you sit down, Claire?
Any idea where Gabriel Dimas is?
- Why would I? - He's a friend of yours, isn't he?
Yeah, so I know where he is every second of the day?
You have noticed that he hasn't been in school for the last two weeks?
Yeah, but I don't know where he is.
I don't.
Did you know that he held up a convenience store with a gun?
- No. - Did you give or sell him embalming fluid?
No. My God.
- So how do you think he got it? - I don't know. The Internet?
- Don't they have catalogs for that stuff? - Maybe.
Be a lot easier to get it from you, don't you think?
No, because I would never do anything like that.
I don't even know where they keep that stuff.
So it's between Ethics of Evolution and Biogenetics, I think.
- Biogenetics? Really? - What?
Yawn, kind of, right?
Biogenetics might sound dull to you, but it's actually very smutty.
It's all about sperm competition and cryptic ovulation.
Oh, yeah? What else you taking?
- I'm only doing one class. - I thought you were going back to school.
I said I was gonna take a class. I still have to work, you know.
Fuck, if it's only one class, why not pick something interesting?
How about this religious studies class?
"Cross-Cultural Perspectives on the Afterlife."
Yawn.
- It's not boring. It's spiritual. - Double yawn.
Why don't you sign up for that and we can meet in the quad for lunch?
That would be so fun.
We could make out in the stacks...
sneak into the pool at night and go skinny-dipping on acid.
Sounds like you did a lot of work at college.
I was only in school for two years, but I learned a few things.
About breaking into school property while tripping?
That'll help you in life.
What?
Come on, Bren.
- I was just in the middle of something. - Look, it's been a while.
It's not that long.
It's been three-and-a-half weeks, and on Tuesday it'll be four weeks.
Not that you're counting.
Yeah, I'm counting. I mean, have you not even noticed?
It's normal, after a certain point, for sex to slow down.
Yeah, slow down, okay. But stop?
People can go months after a certain point.
After a certain point, okay. Like, six years, maybe. But six months?
- Seven. - Not that you're counting.
You've never been with anybody long enough to know this...
but there is a certain ebb and flow that happens.
- Not for everybody. - It does.
There will be times when you are not attracted to me at all.
It's just a normal ebb.
How long does a normal ebb last?
I don't know, but that's the kind of question that prolongs the standard ebb.
Did you hear about the guy at the nuthouse that walked around naked...
except for a hat and gloves?
And this nurse came up to him and said.
"What do you want? You can't walk around..."
Mom?
And the guy says, "It's okay. Nobody comes around here, anyway. "
And the nurse says, "Well, what do you have on the hat and gloves for?"
- It's so late. I was kind of worried. - It goes until midnight.
Was it fun?
It was horrible.
- So you're not going back? - No, I'm going back.
- Why? - I don't know. I don't want to be rude.
They don't care about that. They already got your money.
Well, there's that, too.
- Don't you get bored around here? - Well, sometimes.
Do you want some tea or something?
All right, what did you break?
Nothing. I was just being nice. God!
I'm sorry.
I was imposing my old blueprint on you.
Excuse me?
In the old blueprint of my old house...
you're only nice to me when you've done something bad...
or when you want something.
- That makes me feel like shit. - I'm sorry.
But it really does seem that way to me.
I should go do my homework.
They give you homework?
I have to write a letter to my dead mother...
and forgive her for all the terrible things she did to me.
That sounds fun.
And then I have to write a private letter to myself...
outlining how I want to renovate my life.
Good night, dear.
Good night.
The shovel's in the truck!
- That's good. - Rico, you forget something there?
Shit.
Sorry, man. I got about two hours of sleep last night.
- Augusto? - No, Angie, Vanessa's sister.
She walks out on her boyfriend...
and comes over to wail in our living room all night long.
- Women. - Yeah, I'm telling you, man.
And she shows up with this suitcase, like she's got some right now that...
She has fancy Hollywood friends who flash their money around all the time.
I'm like, "What, you can't go somewhere there's a guest room?"
Rico, I'm really sorry about that loan.
It's just a really tight budget.
That's okay. We got the house. Something else came through.
- That's great. - Yep, the escrow closes next month.
That is super, man.
You and Vanessa have been together, what...
five years now?
Married five, together eight. Man, can you believe that shit?
Okay, so this is sort of a personal question. You don't have to answer...
but do you guys still, you know...
pretty much have sex?
We've got two kids now, so it slows down a bit.
Right.
How slow?
Right after the baby, Vanessa's got all the wrong hormones and stuff.
So now, maybe three or four times a week.
- That's too bad, man. - Yeah, that sucks.
It's not like the first two years.
- Yeah, you better enjoy it while you got it. - No kidding, right?
This moron always goes over.
I should go in and correct his selfish ass.
Let them finish their game. We go over sometimes.
- So how's Eddie? - He's good. Things are good, I guess.
Keith, what's going on?
I think my sister's fucking using that shit again.
My mom's come up from San Diego to watch over her, like that's gonna fix anything.
According to her, everything is just fine now.
I'm the one that's overreacting.
I don't think you're overreacting.
Thanks.
- Eddie hates racquetball. - Really? Why?
Poor depth perception.
Can't play pool, either.
That's too bad.
Let's not beat around the bush, shall we?
Biology has a long history of being abused as an ideological instrument...
to justify social inequities and amoral behavior.
For those of you who have not yet read my book...
the central argument I posit...
in Genes Out of the Bottle. Evolution in Biotechnology...
is that genetic engineering is, in and of itself...
the most effective argument against biological determinism. Why?
The thesis that you present so brilliantly...
is that though biology manifests in behavior...
as we can see in the instinct of human males to seek a variety of sexual partners...
the fact that we have the technology to modify genetics...
confirms the supremacy of culture over biology.
Excellent. Other thoughts?
I have a question.
Isn't natural selection still operating though, since members of the species...
who have access to genetic technologies are more likely to survive and procreate?
That kind of reasoning leads us into a very questionable ethical terrain.
- Other comments? - What kind of reasoning? Scientific?
You can call it scientific, but as I discussed at great length in Chapter 2...
your argument is a political assertion that privilege is biologically determined.
I haven't actually read your book...
but you can't tell me that survival isn't easier for people...
who are born with a private chef and health insurance.
Maybe you should read the book before commenting on its thesis.
Other comments?
- Yes? - Excuse me, I'm sorry.
Are we not allowed to disagree with you? I'm just asking because I'm new in the class.
We certainly don't interrupt our classmates. Go ahead.
In your discussion of bisexual genital rubbing among pygmy chimps...
you note the exchange of sex for meat.
I was wondering how this might pertain to contemporary human behavior.
Any theories?
So, where do you think he is now?
According to his wife, he's still here.
There's a big chunk of dead meat in a cheapo box that's still here.
But do you really believe that's him? The essence of who he was?
The part of him that hoped and dreamed, and all that other crap?
You tell me. You're the one who has all the answers now.
I never said that.
You'd think getting hammered by a bus would make you a little less of a dick.
Sure, it's possible that we go on after we die.
It's also possible that, once the light goes out, it stays out.
You'll never know, buddy boy, till it's your turn.
See, that's what you were hanging onto.
Excuse me?
- Michael. - Is he here?
He's been with me the whole time.
- You think he'll stay with you? - Not like this.
He's just helping me get used to it.
I hope you don't mind, but do you get a sense of my father at all around here?
No. I'm sorry.
That doesn't mean he's not here. This room is packed.
I can't get to everyone.
I think everything is ready.
- I do see a child coming into your life. - No.
- Well, it might be you. - I seriously doubt that.
I'm not sure which one of you I'm reading...
but I'm quite sure there's gonna be a child here very soon.
I'm heading out now, okay?
This is Federico Diaz, our embalmer, and his baby, Augusto.
This is Mrs. Piper.
- I'm sorry for your loss. - Thank you.
- You made his body look very nice. - Thank you.
Actually, his body gave me a lot to work with.
Hardly any decay for a cancer death...
- Okay, Rico, see you tomorrow. - Okay. Nice to meet you, ma'am.
Here we go.
Eileen asked that I close with a reading from Michael's favorite poet, Walt Whitman.
"What do you think has become of the young and old men?
"And what do you think has become of the women and children?
"They are alive and well somewhere
"The smallest sprout shows there is really no death
"And if ever there was, it led forward life
"and does not wait at the end to arrest it
"And ceas'd the moment life appear'd
"All goes onward and outward nothing collapses
"And to die is different from what any one supposed
"and luckier"
Let us pray.
O Lord, bless the departed soul of our brother, friend, and son, Michael...
I'm just hanging around to help you get used to it.
I am used to it, Dad. It's been six months.
Seven. Not that you're counting.
God is strength. In him, I will trust.
Amen.
- Are you done? - Pretty much. What's up?
- I wanted to ask you something. - Okay.
Get this. Bobo sold to Kroehner.
- Bobo sold? My Bobo? - Your Bobo.
I can't believe this. He was so committed.
Think he's got a plastic screw in his anus about now?
- I hope so. - That old son of a bitch. I'm gonna call him.
- What's the matter with you? - Nothing.
- Where's Karla? - She's just working late.
- Why are you fronting? - Go to your room now, Taylor.
Mama hasn't been home since Tuesday.
- What? - Now.
- But my stomach hurts. - I'll get you some Pepto-Bismol.
- I don't want none of that nasty shit. - Then go on.
Shit, bitch, I gotta get my goods.
Don't talk to your grandmother like that.
Is she sick?
She says that every night. She just wants the attention.
Can you blame her? Her mother's off, doing God knows whatever.
Karla's fine. She just had to go out of town.
- You talked to her? - I wasn't in when she called.
But she left several messages. Besides, I'm here with Taylor.
Don't blow this out of proportion like you always do.
Hey, Mama, I'm not coming home tonight.
Derek needs some papers, and I gotta go...
- Can't she send him his papers? - You remember how Derek was.
Always getting her to do this and that for him.
Yeah, like raise his kid without a dime from him.
Sorry, I dropped the phone. Shut up!
Anyway, I'll call you as soon as I can, okay?
Give Taylor kisses for me.
To get the phone company records, we'll have to file a missing persons report.
Keith, why must you always think the worst of her?
Let's just wait till she gets home.
- We don't even know... - What are you gonna do?
Move up here and take care of her all your life?
She has a child! Jesus, she needs help.
- You covering up for her is not what I mean. - Who do you think you're talking to?
I am your mother...
and you will respect that or I will smack the black right off of you.
Hi, there.
Hi.
Hard day?
How can you tell?
I'm good at people.
- Are you? - Gotta be. Tax law.
I'm Scott. Scott Axelrod.
Candace Bouvard.
Nice to meet you, Candace. Are you an actress?
No.
- I teach sign language to the newly deaf. - Really?
- How noble. - No, it's very lucrative.
And I really enjoy communicating with my body.
I get that.
You know what? My friend is here, but it's been great getting to know you.
I would love to take you to dinner sometime. Can I give you my card?
You sure can.
How was school?
All right, you have 20 minutes to do what's most important in your life now.
What did you write to yourself in your private letter?
Where are you locked out of your own life?
If you learn today that your relationship with your mother...
has been blocking the door to your happiness, then make that repair.
Right now. Waiting only gives you more chances to make excuses.
There are phones in the hall. See you in 19 minutes.
Where can I find a Snickers bar?
Can't you think of more productive ways to use this time?
Like what? Taking up smoking?
Why not try rebuilding with someone right now?
I read your private letter to yourself. If you really want closeness in your life...
you're gonna have to start major renovations.
- In fact, I would gut. - You read my private letter?
- Why don't you try calling your kids? - I don't even know where my kids are.
The last thing they want is for me to call on a Friday night...
so I can put in new flooring.
I've wanted to hear that my whole life, Dad. Oh, fuck!
I love you, too, you sadistic old fuck.
Start with Claire.
Only you can be the architect of your life.
I was 12 years old.
This is your mother.
Yes, well, I just wanted to tell you that...
I feel like even though I've been trying to be closer to you...
it hasn't really been working.
I wish you felt you could confide in me...
and maybe you don't because you feel my opinion is worthless.
Because I don't really live in my house...
and so I suppose that's the infrastructure I built.
And so I'm sorry.
- And? - And I love you.
That's so good. I gotta pee like a racehorse.
You have exceeded the time limit.
If you know the name of the movie you'd like to see, press 1 now.
Hello?
- Claire? - Where the fuck have you been?
- I'm fucked up. - Gabe, what is going on?
Everything is all fucked up, Claire!
Look, it's gonna be okay. You just have to calm down right now.
Look, I need you to come and get me.
Please.
You know the cops are seriously looking for you?
I know that, okay? Why do you think I need you to come out here and get me?
Where are you?
I'm up past Woodland Hills.
Academia is one huge circle jerk.
All the sequestered people desperately defending...
the one good idea they have ever had in their lives.
So, what, that's it for going back to school?
Yep. Next?
- How was your day? - It was weird.
Buried that psychic woman's husband, and she was still talking to the guy.
- That's sad. - Not for her.
I mean, she really believed he was there, you know?
Well, she has to say that, right? If she claims she's a psychic.
You don't think that that's possible?
What about you saying that things happen that leave marks...
- in people, in places, in time? - That's physics.
Energy affecting matter.
Talking to dead people is delusional.
So you definitely don't believe in any kind of a life after death?
I think people live on through the people they love...
and the things they do with their lives.
If they manage to do things with their lives.
But that's it? That's all there is?
There's nothing more? There's nothing bigger?
Just energy.
- But there's no plan? - No, there's definitely no plan.
Just survival.
- Should I have ordered the salmon? - I don't know.
How can you live like that? What if you found out you were gonna die tomorrow?
I've been prepared to die tomorrow since I was 6 years old.
Really?
- Pretty much. We never got butter. - Why since you were six?
Because I read a report on the effect nuclear war would have on the world...
and it was pretty clear to me at that point that this was definitely gonna happen.
When you were six?
And I wake up every day pretty much surprised...
that everything is still here.
I don't understand how you can live like that.
Well, I thought we all did.
- Who was that? - I went to high school with him.
He's clearly had a nose job.
Close your eyes.
Go on.
And imagine that everyone in this room thinks you're an idiot.
Total fool. Complete moron. Absolute ass.
Feel familiar?
It's how you feel in the world, isn't it?
I want you to feel it deeply now.
Really feel that everyone in this room thinks you're an idiot.
Close your eyes, Ruth. Feel you're an idiot.
Now tell me when you get the joke.
- Do you get the joke, Ruth? - No. I'm an idiot.
Who wants to explain the joke to Ruth?
So we all feel the same way, right?
So who's really the asshole?
- We all are? - Ruth, stand up.
Tell me what you wrote in your private letter to yourself.
It was a private letter. To myself.
Tell me where your house needs repairs.
Yeah, and don't bullshit the lady, cupcake.
I have a very nice house.
I have nice children, and a nice job, and a nice gentleman friend.
Can't anyone just be happy? I'm happy.
Who's buying Ruth's house?
We don't believe your house is structurally sound, Ruth.
Who knows better: Me or a room full of complainers?
What do you really want to complain about, really?
The fact that the blood stopped circulating to my rear end four hours ago.
Okay, what else?
You want me to complain?
All right, then. Fuck this.
Fuck you. Fuck all of you, with your sniveling self-pity.
And fuck all your lousy parents.
Fuck my lousy parents, while we're at it.
Fuck my selfish bohemian sister and her fucking bliss.
Fuck my legless grandmother. Fuck my dead husband...
and my lousy children with their nasty little secrets!
And fuck you, Robbie, for dragging me to this terrible place...
and not letting me have a Snickers bar!
I'm going to get something to eat!
Congratulations, Ruth.
You have just leveled your fleabag hovel.
Now you can build the house of your dreams from the ground up.
Yes! Fucking yes!
Excellent.
Congratulations.
Jesus.
Okay, let's hop.
- Hi? - We should just get going.
Okay.
But you could tell me where the fuck you've been...
Yeah, like you care.
What?
Why did I just drive my ass way the fuck out to nowhere?
Can we just talk about this while we're driving, okay?
Jesus, it's hot as hell in this car.
Can you tell me where we're going?
Let's just head out to Angela's Crest or something.
Angela's Crest? That's where serial killers go to dump bodies.
You think you can think up someplace a little creepier?
I don't care where we go.
I just want to go somewhere where we can be alone for a minute...
and we can just talk, you know? Whatever.
- Are you fucked-up right now? - What the fuck do you expect, Claire?
I'm freaked out. Everything's really fucked-up for me right now.
- So what are you gonna do? - I don't know.
- I'm trying to it figure out. - What's to figure out?
Claire, just chill out, okay? Jesus.
Look, they know you gave Andy the fry, or whatever the fuck it's called.
They know you robbed that store, Gabe.
You have to turn yourself in.
That is a genius fucking plan.
Hey, baby, you like to drink blood?
- That's incredibly original. - Shut the fuck up, scumbag!
Look, you got a corpse in the front seat.
- I said, shut the fuck up! - Oh, God!
Go.
Is he all right?
It's okay.
Just keep driving.
What are you doing?
- We have to go back. - Are you insane?
We have to go back and make sure that guy is okay.
- I didn't hit him, all right? - How do you know? Are you sure?
I saw. He's fine, all right?
Then let's just go back and make sure that he is all right.
I cannot go back there!
- God, I am fucked! - You know this is just making it worse.
Listen to me. I need you to just help me right now, okay? Please.
I can't help you!
I can't help you anymore! I can't.
Let's just keep going, okay?
Let's just keep going, I'll figure out what to do.
I will figure it out.
Come on, please.
I'm going back.
- Claire, don't do that. - Get off me.
Claire, give me that.
Okay, you have to get out now.
- Don't do this to me. - Get out!
- Get out. - Okay.
I'm just gonna get my bag, all right?
Thanks.
Oh, my God.
So, where do you think I am?
Heaven or Hell?
Apparently, you're here at the moment.
You think I'm in Hell.
Yeah, sure, I went to church. That was just for business.
I didn't really believe in God.
I mean, not as anyone who you had to please or impress to get promoted.
The only God I know is a mean-spirited comedian in ugly pants...
whose every joke has the same damn punch line.
And I'm thinking, that kind of attitude lands me straight in Hell.
On the bright side, that means...
you'll have a familiar face waiting for you.
Look it up.
Leviticus 20:13.
I don't believe that anymore.
And I don't think you're in Hell.
But you can't quite see me hanging around with Gandhi and Mother Teresa up there.
I miss you, Dad.
I thought you were at Brenda's.
She had a late client, so I thought I'd, you know...
- help clean up. - Thanks.
At this hour? That is a late client.
Some of them like her to put them to bed, you know?
That's very sad.
- How long did you go out with that cop? - About six months.
- Sex ever slow down? - I was hoping you weren't gonna go there.
I'm sorry. Forget it.
- David, I need some help. - What happened?
"Fuck my legless grandmother.
"And fuck you, Robbie, for not letting me have the Snickers bar."
Oh, my goodness, the language.
I was so rude.
It was fantastic. Quel breakthrough.
Robbie, I don't even know how to thank you.
Don't thank me.
Just change.
So, what are you gonna do tomorrow to start the renovations?
That's none of your fucking business.
Any idea where he'd go?
What was he wearing?
You know, it's gonna be much easier on him...
if we can bring him in before something else happens.
- But he doesn't even have the gun. - You think he can't get another gun?
He was wearing jeans and a green T-shirt, I think.
You're doing the right thing. You know that, right?
- I feel like shit. - You'll feel worse if someone else gets hurt.
Oh, my God.
When that cop asked me if I knew about the 7- Eleven thing, I said I didn't. But I did.
- Is that really bad? - It's not great.
But you're telling the truth now, right? So don't worry about that.
They wouldn't make me testify against him or something, right?
That's not up to me. But, anyway, that's a long ways off.
Okay, 'cause I don't wanna do anything like that.
- Why are you still protecting this loser? - Because she loves him.
And we understand that, Claire.
I really wish you'd told us about this sooner.
How long did you know about the embalming fluid?
Not that long. And I tried to tell Nate.
When the fuck did you try and tell me about this?
She's telling you now, all right?
Okay, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
When you're ready, we're gonna get in the car and drive down to the station.
A couple of detectives there are gonna ask you pretty much the same questions.
- Will you be there? - Yes, I'll be there.