Life Without Dick Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Life Without Dick script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Sarah Jessica Parker, Harry Connick Jr., and Johnny Knoxville movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Life Without Dick. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Life Without Dick Script


  

              I'm leavin' 

            On a jet plane 

            Don't know when I'll be back again 

            Oh, babe I hate to go 

            A crossing guard? 

            A crossing guard? 

            How did you find out about her? 

            I almost trusted you. 

            Just a sec. 

            You're not gonna believe this, but l didn't mean to kill Dick.

            I just wanted to scare him a little. 

            I didn't even know the gun was loaded. 

            Sweetie, is that water hot enough for you?

            Oh, it's fine. Thank you. 

            Stupid. 

            How many times have I told her a gun's only effective if loaded?

            -See you later, sweetie. -Okey-dokey.

            In ever kept bullets in the gun. Honest. 

            Oh, no. 

            I can't believe l accidentally killed Dick.

            Sure we had our problems, but, come on, what couple doesn't?

            Dick was basically a pretty nice guy... 

            sometimes. 

            You wanna know another thing I love about this little filly?

            Not really. 

            The way she screams for me to call her "puddle britches" while we're in bed.

            That's not- That's not true. 

            Come on, it's cute. You're cute. 

            So cute, I could just chew you right up. 

            Please. I just had cocktail weenies. 

            Before you chew me up, I have to use the ladies' room.

            So, Tina, can I come back to your place? 

            How drunk do you think I am? 

            Guess not. 

            Hello? 

            Dick? Hello. 

            What am I gonna do with you? 

            Sorry. I'm so sorry. 

            Sorry. 

            Hello,    ? 

            I just shot my boyfriend, but it was an accident.

            I really don't think that jail time is a good idea.

            That's not right. 

            Hello, is this    ? 

            Oh, hi. 

            Hey, listen, a stranger just broke into my house...

            and got my purse and took my gun out of my purse...

            and shot my boyfriend and hid him in the basement.

            That's not gonna work. 

            -Hello. -Mom, I have to talk to you.

            Well, I have to talk to you too. 

            What I have to tell you is very important.

            Well, Colleen, mine is important too. 

            -Is that Colleen? -Of course it's Colleen.

            I just said, "Well, Colleen. " 

            Tell her to watch out for dust mites. 

            I have to tell you something... 

            very important about Dick. 

            Listen, sweetie. I just sent you some clippings from magazines.

            You know, different hairstyles. 

            Some of them would look just darling on you.

            Oh, and some, you know, diets too. 

            Tell her about the dust mites. 

            Sweetie, have you heard from Peter recently?

            No, Mother, I haven't heard from Peter...

            because he married my former best friend, Pamela Grinder.

            Remember? 

            Well, maybe if you wore your hair differently...

             All right, well, thanks for the advice. 

              Bye. 

              I think she's mad. 

              This day was really goin' down the tubes.

              I tall started with a visit to my local alcoholic psychic, Madame Hugonaut.

              -You have to believe. -Oh, I believe.

              I see a man, a husband. 

              -A boyfriend? -Yes, that's it.

              And, well, he's going on a trip. A very long trip.

              -No. -Yes.

              He's very secretive. He does not tell you everything.

              Well, he's going to Rome. 

              I think you're mistaken. Dick hates pasta.

              Mistaken? 

              Madame Hugonaut is never mistaken. 

              -And your husband- -Boyfriend.

              Whatever he is, he's not going alone. 

              He's taking a young woman. 

              A crossing guard. 

              A crossing guard? No. 

              -I seriously doubt that Dick would- -Yes, a crossing guard.

              I call them "The Sirens of the School System"...

              with their long legs and their bright blue eyes...

              and the way they wave those stop signs around.

              "Oh, stop. Stop. Stop!" 

              Madame Hugonaut? 

              A few days ago... 

              he got into... 

              a mishap with a car. 

              Yes! 

              Yes. A fender bender in the parking lot. 

              Do you see the other man? 

              The handsome man in the black car? 

              Idiot! I'll handle this. 

              What in the hell were you doin'? 

              Obeying the law. What were you doing? 

              I was backin' out. You were driving like a maniac.

              Wow! Cool car. 

              -Colleen, mind your own business. -You were the one driving like a maniac.

              Yeah? Why don't we get the cops here and see?

              There's no need to get the cops here. It's a little fender bender.

              Oh, no, look. 

              See, your light thingy is all crushed. 

              Do you understand that "mind your own business" means "shut up"?

              Why don't we leave her out of it? 

              She's innocent. She's cute too. 

              Stop trying to change the subject. 

              There's no subject, buddy. I'm getting in my car, and I'm leaving.

              It was nice meeting you. 

              Hope I run into you again soon. 

              I see your husband and the crossing guard...

              having an affair. 

              They're running off to Rome together. Capisce?

              If you went home this second, you would see her standing at the doorway...

              with the bags all packed waiting to leave you.

              Mark my words. Go. Go. 

              That so-and-so was taking my clothes. 

              I suppose his crossing guard was my size too.

              I could kill him again. 

              Hello? 

              I know who this is. 

              You very mean lady! You're never going to speak to my boyfriend again!

              -Who's that you're ringin' up, Daniel? -This woman I met yesterday.

              Hope to run into you again. 

              -Danny. -Hey, Sis.

              I've got something to tell you. 

              -Jared, he's- -Danny!

              Why don't you join me in the yard? 

              Some of the boys have a game of football goin'.

              See ya, Sis. 

              Hey, Danny! 

              Would you be so kind as to favor us with one of your beautiful songs?

              -Not today, Mike. -Come on.

              Sorry, Mike. I don't sing anymore. 

              Back to your game, boys. 

              Did you rub Dick Rasmusson yet? 

              -He ran into me. -What?

              I was trailing him, you know, trying to get a good shot at him...

              and he backed into my car not more than    minutes ago.

              Did you rub him? 

              No, I didn't have an opportunity to. He was with a woman.

              In the name of the wee man, I asked you to pop this guy over a week ago.

              -I need this to happen now! -I know.

              I'll do it. I'll "X" him tomorrow. 

              I transferred you from the accounting department...

              to the hit man department, what, two years ago.

              Yes. So? 

              So in that time, how many people do you think you've actually killed?

              -Technically? -Sure, technically.

              -I don't know. -I'll tell you: none.

              Rien. Nada. Nothin'. Zilch. 

              In two years, you haven't doled out so much as a black eye.

              Frankly, I'm disappointed. I expected more from an American.

              Senator Dove. What about him? He's dead. 

              Senator Dove died of a heart attack. 

              He had a heart attack while I was hiding in his closet waiting to kill him.

              -Not a true rub. -Are you saying I'm yellow?

              I'm not sayin' you're any color. I'm sayin' maybe your heart isn't in it.

              Maybe you should get back to accounting where you don't have to kill people.

              I can kill people as good as the next guy.

              Aye, Danny, care to favor us with one of your beautiful songs today?

              I haven't sang in two years. 

              Come on, Patrick. You know our Danny hasn't sang since Mary broke his heart.

              Ah, yes, the Mary incident. 

              Oh, Danny boy 

              l love you so 

              Could we please forget about the Mary incident?

              Jesus. Don't bite the head off us. 

              We was just sayin' you could be one of the great singers of our time.

              All the great singers are Italian: Frank, Dino, Tony...

              That's just your opinion. 

              It's also my opinion you should shut your gob! All great singers are Italian.

              -Just like the mobsters. -You watch it, Tommy.

              I'm Patrick. 

              I'm sorry. You watch it, Patrick. 

              -What did I do? -Not you, Patrick!

              If the Irish can't sing, then what about Bing Crosby?

              Oh, forget Bing Crosby. The man talked his way through every song.

              -What about John McCormick? -Yeah.

              Our Danny can sing as good as him. 

              Sure. He should be up on the stage singing.

              Yeah, I'm not a singer. I'm a hit man. 

              And I'm gonna kill Dick Rasmusson. 

              -I'll implement my new plan tomorrow. -What's that?

              I'm gonna get to him through his girlfriend.

              Oh, whoop-dee-do. Seems like quite a plan.

              -You're not pressing charges, are you? -What a coincidence.

              You and your boyfriend... 

              ran into me at Target. 

              Ex-boyfriend, actually. 

              -Ex-boyfriend? -Yeah.

              Things really weren't working out very well.

              You are Colleen Gibson, right? 

              -Yes. -The artist?

              Yes. 

              I'm Daniel Gallagher. I'm an art dealer. 

              I just thought I'd stop by and take a look at some of your stuff.

              -Oh. -Can we go to your studio?

              I don't have a studio. 

              Do you paint down in your basement? 

              Well, yes, but we can't go down there. 

              Why not? 

              Just 'cause it's messy and there's rats. 

              But I'll tell you what. 

              I have other paintings in the garage if you'd like to see those.

              Sure. 

              Welcome to the Colleen Gibson collection.

              This is nice. 

              So, I call this one Red. 

              I see. 

              This is Green. 

              Makes sense. 

              Let me guess. Blue. 

              Yes. How'd you know? 

              A lucky guess. You have a very distinctive style.

              Well, yes, but... 

              as you can see, I'm sort of... 

              running low on ideas. 

              Yeah? Why don't you buy a   -box of Crayolas?

              I know art, and these are... 

              Well, they're pretty great. They're truly neat.

              And they're great. They're really great. 

              Blue is my favorite one. 

              Mine too. There's a lot of blue in there.

              Guess I kind of did it in my blue period.

              You know, like Picasso had a blue period.

              You know, I love his stuff too. 

              Well, how much do you want for this one? 

              I don't know. I've never sold a painting.

              Two hundred dollars. 

              Sounds about right. 

              Thank you. 

              -I have one more thing to ask you. -What's that?

              -Out. -Out?

              Out. I wanna ask you out, seeing as your boyfriend is an "ex" and all.

              Well, it's just that... 

              you know, the breakup is still so new. 

              I'm just sort of getting used to it. 

              Well, you have two hours to get used to it.

              I'll be back around  :  . 

              I've got some errands to attend to. Okay?

              -Bye. -See you.

              -Who is it? -It's me.

              -Who? -It's me, Colin.

              -Sorry. -How you doin'?

              -I'm okay. -Good.

              -Where'd you get that painting? -I just bought it.

              -That sure is blue. -It is, isn't it?

              I didn't want to leave it out in the car in this neighborhood.

              That would look really good over the new sofa Molly just got.

              How much do you want for that? 

              -Wanna buy it? -Sure.

              I think I'm gonna keep it. Sentimental reasons.

              -I'll give you     bucks for that. -Five hundred?

              Yep. There is a lot of blue in there. 

              No, I don't know. I think I'm gonna hang on to it.

              Think of it as my retirement gift. 

              Retirement gift? What, are you retiring? 

              I'm goin' back to get my genealogy degree.

              Lot less dangerous than this Mafia business.

              You know, Colin, we're not in the Mafia. 

              We're Irish. 

              You know what? 

              Just take the painting. It's fine. 

              I know where I can get another one just like it.

              -Yeah? -Yeah, it's fine.

              What do you know? 

              I'm an art dealer after all, huh? 

              -I'm an art collector. -That's good.

              Molly's gonna love this. She loves blue. 

              That's great, Colin. 

              You Scotch-taped him to a chair? 

              Can you believe I forgot the rope? 

              I had to use Scotch- Look how sticky that is.

              -It sticks to the wool. -Yeah, it's sticky.

              Hey, Pee Wee. I'm sorry. 

              We just got caught up in a little gangland small talk.

              How you doin'? 

              -Okay. Colin? -Yeah?

              -Let's do it. -Okay.

              Let's do it. 

              Let's go. 

              Went to mass this morning, right? Had my gun.

              Then, a couple minutes ago you came in the door, and I got you with a painting.

              Looked again- gone. Believe that? 

              You're off the hook, Pee Wee. 

              Don't do it again, because... 

              No. Wait, wait. 

              One second. Jared said we have to "X" this guy today.

              -We don't have a gun. -I know that.

              But what I can do is I'll find something...

              with which we can bludgeon our good old friend Pee Wee to death with.

              I know this sounds terrible, Dick... 

              but your death... 

              has really opened me up. 

              Creatively, I mean. 

              Crossing guard? 

              Where in the world did you meet a crossing guard?

              Crossing guard, remember me? 

              Last week, back of my car? 

              That loose spring took a chunk out of your ass.

              Oh, you little siren. 

              You guys are cops, aren't you? 

              We are, in fact, plainclothes detectives.

              I knew it. I can smell a cop with one nostril tied behind my back.

              I myself am a private dick. Name's Dick Rasmusson.

              You've probably seen my television commercials.

              Are you trying to find some one? 

              Someone who's lost or missing or hiding? 

              Hello, I'm Dick Rasmusson, and l'm a private dick.

              I find people who don't wannabe found. 

              Trying to locate an old lover, friend... 

              husband, wife, child? 

              I'm your man. 

              Think your wife's cheating on you? You're probably right.

              Iím your man. Call me at  -   -IMA-DICK..

              That's  -   -IMA-DICK.. 

              Remember, that's  -   -I-M-A-DICK.. 

              You guys here on some kind of stakeout? A prostitution ring or somethin'?

              -Nope. -We're just horny.

              -Like everybody else. -I'm workin' right now.

              Doin' a little tail job. The adultery thing.

              I'm tailin' a big-time mobster. 

              Ain't nobody here but us and that nurse. 

              He's not here today. He usually is, though.

              He comes here almost every other day for a different woman. Fantasy thing.

              Takes them to the Pink Flamingo for the old ten toes up and ten toes down.

              A real romantic guy. 

              Either you fell as attached? You know, lady-wise?

              If we were married, do you think we'd be here?

              Well, I got a girlfriend, but I got a big surprise for her.

              She's not gonna be my girlfriend for long.

              -Why not? -Well, I'll tell you...

              -The sad thing is, I've seen his ads. -Me too.

              -And I kind a like 'em. -Me too.

              -Hello? -You over him yet?

              -Is this Daniel Gallagher, art dealer? -You know it.

              I'll be there in an hour. 

              -Found some murdering devices. -Gotta go.

              That's nice. 

              Informants. Always have the best stuff. 

              Not for long, though. 

              Okay, now... 

              everybody's gotta be real quiet while I drive.

              Just wanna say that this is your first legit rub, and I'm proud of you.

              Go get him. 

              Wait a minute. 

              You got any last requests, Pee Wee? You want a cigarette or somethin'?

              I've always liked the way you sang "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling."

              Come on. 

              -I don't sing anymore. -Come on, man!

              You gotta do it! Come on, Danny! 

              Hello? I just asked you. That's what I want.

              It's part of the job! You wanna be a murderer now!

              This once, okay? 

              When Irish eyes are smiling 

              Sure it's like a morn in spring 

              In the lilt of lrish laughter 

              You can hear the angels sing 

              When Irish hearts are happy 

              All the world seems bright and gay 

              And when Irish eyes are smiling 

              Sure they steal 

              Your heart away 

              That was beautiful, Danny. Simply beautiful.

              Thank you. Thanks. 

              Sorry. It's gettin' late. I gotta go. I got a date.

              It'd be great if you could play through for me.

              Yeah. You were so close though, Dan. Just bash his head in.

              You can do it. 

              I got some things I gotta do. 

              And maybe you could tell Jared that I did it.

              -Break the eighth? -The eighth?

              The eighth commandment: Thou shall not lie.

              That doesn't sit too well with me. 

              Right. Okay. 

              -You'll do it though, right? -Yeah.

              Okay. I'll- I'll see you guys later. 

              Thanks for the song, man. 

              Yeah, sure, Pee Wee. 

              -These are nice. -Thanks.

              My set is shit. 

              If you can- if you can't, you can't, but if you can...

              right before I make contact... 

              let me know if my left arm is straight. 

              You know what? 

              Why would I waste a perfectly good driver on your thick skull?

              Molly don't love blue as much as I love golf.

              Wow. It's beautiful. 

              Come here to jog or fish? 

              Oh, my family. They like to come out here and shoot.

              Shoot? 

              Wow. An armed art dealer. 

              -See that target down there? -Yeah.

              -Show you how it's done. -Okay.

              That's not that bad. 

              -Wanna try? -Oh, no.

              Not really, no. 

              Have you ever fired a gun before? 

              -Not really, no. -It's simple.

              You just aim and shoot, that's all. 

              -Kind of like hair spray. -Yeah.

              Here. Give it a try. 

              Go on. 

              There you go. 

              Where'd you learn to shoot like that? 

              I don't know. 

              Shooting targets sure can work up an appetite. You know what I could eat?

              -What? -A big red, bloody steak.

              I can probably arrange that. 

              So tell me more about Dick. 

              -Where is he? -No, not Dick.

              I don't even want to think about him. 

              I'm just curious, that's all. Like, where are you sending his mail?

              Why do you ask so many questions about Dick?

              What are you, a cop or something? 

              I'm the opposite of a cop. 

              An art dealer's the opposite of a cop? 

              No, I was just curious... 

              as to why Dick would leave you, you know?

              I mean, you seem like a really nice person.

              Thank you. That's very flattering. 

              What do you say we go start having a little fun?

              Oh. More shooting? 

              No. No more shooting. 

              Somethin' more romantic. 

              You know what I don't understand about Dick?

              Oh, forget Dick. He's gone. 

              You make it sound like he's dead. 

              I wish he were. 

              Hey, you know what this party is missing? Music.

              Oh, sure. I've got some tapes in there. 

              What's this? It says "Me." 

              -What is it? -It's nothing. It's a secret.

              If l had a secret, I'd tell you. 

              Are you tryin' to tell me you don't have any secrets?

              You're changing the subject. We're talking about that tape.

              -No dice. -I'm not above tickling.

              Oh, no. Please, please. 

              I used to fancy myself something of a singer.

              Oh, cool. So let's hear it. 

              Why not? 

              Because itís just not a part of my life anymore.

              Itís just a stupid dream, that's all. 

              Don't say that. What happened? 

              I had this girlfriend. 

              Really serious girlfriend. 

              Her name was Mary. 

              She thought my singing was silly, so... 

              she finally left me for another guy. 

              I thought I'd change careers, try somethin'...

              more manly, you know? 

              Art? 

              Yeah, well, I mostly deal in... 

              like really manly art. 

              And I don't sing. 

              If that's the way you wanna be. But I still wanna hear that tape.

              Sorry. 

              I think singing is very manly. 

              Really? 

              Really. 

              So, please, can I hear the tape? 

              But you have to promise me not to laugh. 

              I promise. I cross my heart. I hope to die.

              Well, let's hope nothing that drastic has to happen.

              Oh, boy. 

              Oh, man. 

              Here we go. 

              In Banbridge Town in the County Down 

              One morning last July 

              From aboreengreen came as weet colleen 

              You're good! 

              You're really, really good! 

              You shouldn't be an art dealer. You should be a professional singer.

              -That's really sweet of you to say. -I'm not being sweet.

              I mean it. 

              It's never gonna happen, but thanks. 

              Never say never. 

              So I told you one of my secrets. 

              Now you have to tell me one of your secrets that you don't have.

              Well, here's one. 

              I think I'm falling for you. 

              I have another secret. 

              It's a little harder than the "I'm falling for you" variety.

              What is it? 

              I know this looks really bad. 

              That's Dick. He's... 

              -Were you gonna say dead? -Yeah.

              I'm just gonna tell you the whole truth, okay?

              I killed him. But it was in self-defense.

              Well, I guess self-defense really isn't the proper term...

              but it was- it was an accident. 

              So you just pointed the gun at him and bang, right?

              Well, it wasn't that simple. 

              That's really- That's amazing. 

              It's amazing. Wow, what a coincidence. 

              Why do you say it's a coincidence? 

              You and Dick, you know? And you killing Dick.

              When you put it like that, you make it sound so mean.

              Well, hey, listen. 

              Dick was a grade-A asshole, Colleen. 

              -I guess you're right. -Of course.

              Colleen, this is... 

              This is really great, but... 

              maybe not right here. 

              Daniel? 

              "Dearest Colleen, sorry to leave so early...

              but I had some business to take care of. 

              I will be back soon. Daniel. 

              PS I took Dick with me." 

              l look up 

              Your smile fills my heart with glee 

              Now even a fool can see I'm overcome by love

              And there is nothing I will ever hold above

              And l hope that l can offer you enough 

              I've been keepin' track. 

              -Hi, Hurley. -I've been keepin' track.

              This here's the   th corpse that Jared and the O'Reilly family boys...

              left here in my dump, and it don't make me too proud.

              Don't tell me you've accidentally stumbled upon a conscience.

              Well, recently I've been gettin' a feeling that someone or...

              something's been watching over me, watchin' everything I do.

              Maybe it's God. 

              Don't go all nutty on me and the O'Reilly family, okay?

              We pay you good money to use your dump as our private graveyard.

              I know. I'm just out-loud thinkin'. 

              Just out-loud thinkin', that's all. 

              Hey, what variety is this? Is it a snitch?

              Turncoat? Some three-time loser couldn't come up with the cash?

              Private dick. 

              That's a first. Why'd you plug a dick? 

              I don't know. Jared wanted it done. 

              Don't you ask questions, boy? 

              What if Jared wanted your grandmother done? Would you ask him why?

              What are you getting at? 

              I'm just sayin' I don't trust Jared any further than I can throw a jukebox.

              And I can't throw a jukebox too far. 

              Now why do you figure he wanted a dick killed?

              I don't know. Just doing my job. 

              Maybe you ought a think about what you're doin'.

              I'll think about that. 

              Have a nice day. 

              Oh, Hurley? 

              If you see God around, tell Him to have a nice day too.

              Hold your fuckin' horses. 

              -Hello, Jared. -It's you.

              I did it. I got Dick. 

              You don't believe me? Go ask Dick. 

              I'd like to. Take me to the dearly departed.

              -Are you doubting me? -I'm doubtin' nothin'.

              You and me will go look at the dead fella...

              then grab a bite of brunch or somethin'. 

              Okay, but I want you to know I'm hurt in here.

              Ah, you're hurt in here. I feel your pain.

              Now... 

              let's you and me go look at that dead body, hmm?

              He's gone to the saints, all right. 

              -Good job. -Thank you.

              It's about time I got a little respect. 

              Don't be so sensitive. I love you like a brother.

              Pay no mind to me. I'm just jaw whackin'.

              Let's get out of here. I gotta dump Dick's car.

              Hold on to your pint. Did you check him for dough?

              -Dough? -Back when I was a hitter...

              I got an extra hundred a week just from goin' through dead guys' wallets.

              Typical dick. No green. 

              Some of these guys work their tails off for nothin', you know?

              Look at this. One punch away from a free latte.

              Some guys have no luck. 

              Do you like them lattes? 

              Fair play to you. Only idiots like that stuff.

              What else we got? 

              Jesus Himself. 

              An engagement ring. 

              The stupid bastard. 

              This guy's a regular Cracker Jack box. 

              What else we got? Air tickets. 

              He was goin' somewhere. 

              -Rome! -Rome, Georgia?

              No. Pope-y Rome. 

              Come on. Get me outta here. 

              So, why'd you want this Dick fella killed anyway?

              I wanted him killed because I wanted him killed.

              Is that good enough for you, question boy?

              Come here. Here. 

              What is this? 

              That's an envelope, brains. Inside is the prize: three names.

              Windsor, Stuart and Tudor. Who are they? 

              -Three big-time drug dealers. -Oh, they're bad.

              They stiffed me last week. I want them turned into stiffs this week.

              They hang out in the warehouse by dock five all the time, playin' cards.

              I'd like them killed by the end of the week.

              I can't. I have things to do. 

              Like what? You're a hit man. You kill. 

              -No. Sorry. -Danny, let's face it.

              You seem to have developed a nose for this kind of business.

              I need you, Danny. I'm not gonna take no for an answer.

              A year ago, what was your big dream? 

              What does this have to do... 

              You wanted to be a great Irish singer. Here's the deal.

              You make five hits for me, and I will install you, as the headliner...

              at the Shillelagh Room. 

              Shillelagh Room. 

              -I don't wanna be a singer. -Of course you want to be a singer.

              When I said, "the Shillelagh Room"... 

              a wee light went on in your eye I haven't seen in quite some time.

              You want to sing. 

              Okay, okay, I wanna sing. 

              Of course you do. So make the hits and get the gig.

              What if l don't? 

              Then I'll have to kill you. 

              -Where you been? -I dumped him.

              Dick? 

              -Yeah, Dick. -Where?

              Don't worry. Nobody's gonna find him. 

              That is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me.

              You know, I never meant to kill him. 

              But he really was a jerk. 

              He was a liar. 

              You'd never lie to me, right? 

              No, I never would. 

              What am I gonna do about Dick? 

              We are going to act as if nothing's wrong.

              'Cause when the cops come, and they will, they'll come packin' questions.

              Is there a social event or something you and Dick were planning to go to...

              like a play or... 

              Well, I was planning on throwing him a surprise party tonight...

              but I guess that's right out the window. 

              No, that's perfect. Go ahead and have it.

              -But Dick is dead. -I know.

              Who throws a party for a dead man? 

              Somebody who doesn't know he's dead, right? Go ahead and throw him a party.

              You're right off the suspect list. 

              Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, Colleen. 

              -I'm going to marry her. -I wish I had some rice to throw at you.

              Take a gander at this. 

              Ever seen a rock this big before? 

              How can some two-bit gumshoe such as your self afford such a luxury item?

              Haven't been selling your body, have you, Dick?

              That big mobster I was tellin' you about, the tail job?

              He's got a wife who's willing to pay through the nose for the truth.

              And, of course, I don't have anything against that.

              -So I bought Colleen this ring. -Sounds like real love.

              Call it what you want. I call it securing my investment.

              -Not following you. -Colleen's worth a mint.

              Or should I say someday she's gonna be worth a mint.

              Her old man invented the rosy-red grapefruit.

              -I love those. -Once he kicks...

              her value goes through the roof, and I wanna get in on the ground floor.

              I got an appointment with a judge, and then we're off to Rome.

              Rome, Italy? 

              -What other Rome is there? -There's a Rome, Georgia.

              Who the hell would honeymoon in Rome, Georgia?

              I bet it happens. 

              Anyway, tomorrow I'm gonna come home in the middle of the day...

              when she's not expecting me, and without saying nothin'...

              I'm gonna play "Leavin' On a Jet Plane" on the guitar.

              After which, I'm gonna ask her to marry me.

              "Leavin' On a Jet Plane"? 

              Oh, man, that's a classic. I love that song.

              Sad song for a happy occasion. 

              Admittedly. It's the only song I know. 

              Maybe she'll think youíre runnin' off with another woman.

              Colleen's not that smart, and even if she did think that...

              she'd probably run off crying. 

              -You don't know Colleen. -Women are unpredictable.

              If you'll excuse me... 

              I have some compromising pictures to mail.

              I entered you. 

              Excuse me? 

              I saw a poster at the grocery store. 

              You know that radio station, WXI U? 

              They're having a talent contest... 

              and the winner gets a thousand dollars...

              and a recording contract. 

              Colleen, I'm not "singer guy." 

              I'm "art dealer guy." 

              But you have such a beautiful voice. 

              You have a talent. 

              It'd be criminal not to use it. 

              I can't. 

              Forget that old girlfriend. 

              Mary. 

              Yes, Mary. 

              Forget about her. She's the past. 

              I want you to sing. 

              You have to believe in yourself, 'cause I believe in you...

              and I don't want to be wrong. 

              Good. 

              Now that that's settled, let's get some brunch.

              -I can't. -Why not?

              'Cause I have to get rid of the murder weapon.

              Hey, cuz. 

              How did I know I'd find you drinking in the middle of the afternoon?

              I don't know, cuz. 

              I guess you're one of those clairvoyants, huh?

              Hey, how's the hit man business doing? 

              Would you keep your voice down, please? 

              Look, I got a favor to ask you. 

              "Mr. Fancy Pants" has to ask old "Mr. Down And Out" for a favor.

              -This ought to be rich. -Shut up.

              Here. 

              A gun. 

              And to think those damn nuns wouldn't let you out of seventh grade.

              That's hilarious. Wait a second. 

              Don't tell me you finally went and killed somebody.

              Look, I need you to ditch this for me, okay?

              Why don't you ditch it? You're the hit man.

              I just sell sinks for a living, remember?

              Don't kid yourself, Rex. You assist a man who sells sinks.

              I can't ditch it 'cause I have a lot to do today.

              Why don't you have one of your Mafia friends ditch it for you?

              How many times do I have to tell you we're not the Mafia?

              We're Irish. 

              Okay, okay. Take it easy. 

              Look, I don't want to get involved with any of this crap.

              Maybe this will alleviate some of your fears.

              Two hundred dollars? 

              Good. 

              Take the gun and throw it in a lake or something.

              Nothing's gonna happen unless you screw it up.

              -Colleen. -Yeah?

              I hate to be a party pooper, but my legs are getting cramped.

              All right. We don't have to hide anymore.

              Something must have happened to Dick. 

              -Can we eat the cake? -Sure.

              I got it. 

              Hello? 

              Hi, Danny? You told me to call this number at  :  .

              What? 

              -You said to call at  :  . -What the hell are you talking about?

              It's  :   and you said to call. 

              Oh, yeah? 

              Screw you too, then, Dick! 

              Boy, you're not gonna believe this. 

              That was Dick. He is at the airport. 

              He's running away with another woman. 

              Guess the surprise party's off. 

              Wow, look at the time. 

              See you. 

              Night. 

              -See you. -Yeah.

              -Gosh, that was really smart. -It was, wasn't it?

              Now the police won't suspect anything when Dick turns up missing.

              I don't know. Something could go wrong. 

              No, nothing's gonna go wrong. Everything is gonna go right.

              We got away with it. 

              -But I'm a killer. -But you're really good at it.

              -I am? -Yeah!

              You should be proud of yourself. You're a natural.

              -Lots of people can't do what you do. -Really?

              -Yeah, really. -Who's that?

              I don't know. Somebody probably forgot something.

              Let me get it. 

              -Hurry back. -Okay.

              Yes? 

              You Colleen Gibson? 

              Yes. 

              -O'Halloran. -Murphy.

              May I help you? 

              You're on the wrong side of the fence to be asking questions.

              What side am I on? 

              -The wrong side. -How well you know Pee Wee Greelitch?

              -Who? -John Greelitch.

              Nicknamed "Pee Wee" due to his immense girth.

              -I don't know anyone named Pee Wee. -Funny.

              He knew you. 

              At least well enough to be beaten to death by one of your paintings.

              What? 

              Just spill your guts about Pee Wee Greelitch.

              I don't understand. 

              Pee Wee was beaten to death by your painting.

              Perhaps you could shed some light on this interesting scenario.

              -Painting was blue. -Real blue.

              I sold that painting. 

              I sold it a long time ago at an art fair.

              -Now we're getting somewhere. -To whom?

              I don't remember. 

              If there's one thing I hate, it's a poor memory.

              He was a large man. 

              -With brown hair? -Yes.

              -Brown eyes? -I believe, yes.

              Perfectly round head? 

              -Yes, it was a spherical-shaped head. -Damn!

              -That's Pee Wee all right. -You described him to a tee.

              Sorry to disturb you, ma'am. I guess our hunch was wrong.

              That's all right. 

              All right, if that's it... 

              Good night. 

              You were great. You handled those cops like a real pro.

              You really led them down the wrong path. 

              I don't suppose you can tell me why the painting I sold you yesterday...

              ended up in the head of some dead thug. 

              I sold that painting at my gallery. 

              -Where is your gallery? -It's down by all the other galleries.

              -I want to go. -Now?

              -Yeah, I want to go now. -It's closed.

              -But I assume you have a key. -Yes.

              I have a key. 

              No. 

              -You're not a gallery owner, are you? -I don't want to make you mad.

              You have a job that's gonna make me mad? 

              We have to go somewhere private. Then I'll tell you.

              We're in my house. How much more privacy do you need?

              This is private? 

              I'm sensing something is wrong. 

              Yes, something is wrong. 

              I've had a pretty crummy week. 

              I accidentally killed my boyfriend because he was cheating on me...

              and now I found out that you're not an art dealer.

              -I can explain. -Are you a porn star?

              -No! -Are you a Republican senator?

              Are you in the Mafia? 

              Yes. 

              Yes, but we're not the Mafia. We're Irish.

              Are you joking? 

              I'm a hit man, but I swear I have never killed a person in my life.

              That's a good one. You're a hit man who's never killed anyone?

              Do you think it's easy to admit I'm a hit man who can't kill?

              It's embarrassing. 

              I hope you see the irony here. I am a hit man, okay?

              I have never broken a law in my entire life...

              and you, the innocent artist... 

              just killed her boyfriend! 

              To compare my murder, which was an act of love...

              Wait, of love? You didn't love Dick. 

              He sure as hell didn't love you, but I do.

              Do what? 

              Love you. Okay? 

              I love you. 

              -You said, "I love you." -Yes.

              I love you. 

              There, I said it. I love you. 

              Really? 

              I dumped a body for you. I got rid of a murder weapon.

              Where I'm from, that's love. 

              I love you. 

              Excuse me. 

              I have to go talk to a wayward relative, okay?

              What are you doing? Get rid of that thing.

              No, listen. I'm beginning to grow attached to it.

              I think it has special powers. 

              Just get rid of it or I'll kill you. 

              All right, it's gonna make Christmas... 

              real uncomfortable for the families, huh?

              Stop being such a dick. 

              Asshole. 

              That was fun. 

              I could do that every night of my life. 

              That's a nice thought. It's probably not gonna happen.

              I'm in dutch with my boss. 

              How dutch? 

              -Dutch dutch. -What's this?

              They're drug dealers. Scum of the earth. 

              They sell crack to schoolchildren. 

              You're supposed to kill them? 

              Yes. 

              But I can't do it. 

              Yes, you can! 

              Yes, you can. It's not that hard. 

              It's like jumping off the high board. 

              You just have to decide to do it. 

              Sure, that's easy for you to say. You're a natural.

              I can't do it. I'd take the gun, and I'd...

              point the gun and it makes that... 

              horrible exploding sound. 

              That's all right. 

              It's all right. You're still a good person.

              And Jared, he's my boss and he's my brother-in-law.

              He threatened to kill me if l don't kill these people.

              Jeez. Think he's serious? 

              I once saw him stab a guy to death with a soup spoon.

              We'll just go run away somewhere. Some where Jared won't find us.

              -I have some family money. -He's gonna find us wherever we go.

              I just have to face the fact... 

              that I've just got a few days to live. 

              But I'm gonna make them the best few days of your life.

              There has to be some way out. 

              I got it. 

              -What? -I'll do your hits.

              -No. -Yeah, I'll do your hits.

              I'm not gonna have you do my killing for me.

              I'd do anything for you. 

              Come on, it's the least I can do for you.

              Come on. 

              I love you. 

              Really? 

              Now, when you kill them, you have to make sure they're dead.

              Yeah, I know. You told me that already. 

              Just make sure to put a bullet in their brain.

              You told me that already too. 

              -And if anything goes wrong- -I get the hell out. I know.

              All right, give me the gun. 

              Give me the gun. 

              It has a silencer attached. 

              So I don't wake up the whole neighborhood.

              All right. I know. 

              I'll see you later. 

              -Colleen. -Yes?

              Just be careful. 

              -Let's go get some dinner. -What?

              Maybe Chinese or something? 

              -Were they there? -Oh, yeah.

              Did you... 

              Oh, yeah. 

              -Are you sure? -Yeah. Yeah.

              Come on. Let's go. I'm starving. 

              Whatever you say. 

              "Wally Lemon.: kiddie pornographer." 

              Is this where you put Dick? 

              Yes. 

              It's fitting. 

              -Oh, God! -What's wrong?

              Look at my dress. 

              This is the third good dress I've ruined doing this job.

              Blood doesn't wash out so easily. 

              Don't worry about it. We're done. You're done.

              That's five. That's the deal I made with Jared.

              Good. 

              Now you can headline at the Shillelagh Room...

              and win the WXI U talent contest. 

              Yes, and we'll be on... 

              Easy Street. 

              You know what I think? 

              Would you please stop doing that? 

              I think that day of reckoning I was talking about is coming.

              I can feel it. 

              Who is that man? 

              Just a crazy old man. Let's just go. 

              He's dirty. 

              It's gonna come. 

              That's it. 

              Five. 

              I'm through. 

              Here's number six. 

              No, Jared. 

              You said after five I'm done. 

              I meant after six. 

              You know, this whole... 

              killing thing... 

              It's really getting on my nerves. 

              Well, if thatís the way you want to play it.

              You love Ivy, don't you, Danny? 

              What are you getting at? 

              Be a shame if anything was to happen to her.

              Besides, I thought you'd want this one...

              with this being the man that stole away the lovely Mary's heart.

              You want me to whack the Tuner? 

              Tony "the Tuner" Moretti has been muscling in...

              on my salmon-poaching racket, and he has to pay.

              See, life is fair sometimes, isn't it, Danny?

              Just do this last hit. 

              Pick up the envelope. 

              Save your sister. 

              Daniel, I really love you. 

              I just don't know if l can keep on killing for you.

              Colleen, just one last hit. 

              And we're through. Jared promised. 

              All right. What's his name? 

              Tony "the Tuner" Moretti. 

              Did Jared tell you why he wanted him killed?

              I don't know why he wants him killed. He just wants him killed.

              Well, jeez, Daniel... 

              do you ever ask any questions? 

              If they asked you to go kill your own grandmother...

              you think you'd bother to ask why? 

              -What are you, a "question-aholic"? -What's that supposed to mean?

              -Hello? -Danny, this is Jared.

              Your sister had another one of her accidents.

              The doctor said she'd be fine, but you better come out here.

              Okay. 

              I'll be there as soon as I can. 

              -Hey, Ivy. -Do you love me, Danny?

              Sure I do. 

              Then kill Jared. 

              I don't think that would be a wise career move on my part.

              I want him dead, Danny. He's fooling around behind my back.

              He wouldn't do that to you. 

              Stop taking his side. He treats you like an idiot.

              Do you really think he's gonna let you headline at the Shillelagh Room?

              How do you know he's fooling around on you?

              I hired a detective. Some clown named Rasmusson.

              Who's apparently skipped town, because I can't get a hold of him.

              Anyway, he mailed me these pictures... 

              taken at the Pink Flamingo Motel. 

               That's when I took the sleeping pills. 

                He's doing a nun? 

                She's not a real nun. 

                According to Rasmusson, Jared likes to go to this fantasy strip club...

                and pick up these strippers who dress in these kinky costumes.

                All right. 

                All right. 

                I'll do it. I'll rub Jared. 

                Danny, that's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.

                Would it be fair to say that youíre not the best lunch companion right now?

                I've been neglecting you. I know it. 

                I'm really sorry. Let's try to enjoy the rest of our meal, okay?

                Okay. 

                This is Mary, my old girlfriend. 

                Yeah, I know. 

                -Danny, I'm sure you know the Tuner. -Hi. How you doing?

                So do you want to sit down? 

                We just ate, but yeah, sure. 

                What, Tuner? 

                Do you want to go to the restroom? 

                You want to use the phone. Yeah, sure. 

                The Tuner... 

                He's gone to a dark, secluded part of the restaurant.

                Yeah. Alone. 

                I guess I'd better powder my nose. 

                So, how are you, Danny? 

                Great. Fine. How are you? 

                I can't take it anymore. 

                It's so awful living with the Tuner. 

                I never understand a word he says. 

                He's so violent. 

                Unlike you, Danny. 

                You were always so gentle. 

                I guess I made a big mistake when I left you.

                -Yep, I guess you did. -Yeah.

                Is there anyway I can win you back? 

                Use the phone? 

                No. 

                Just be a minute. 

                I'm sorry. This is the wrong secluded hallway.

                Sorry, Mary. 

                See, I found a really special gal. 

                I understand. I guess this is good-bye, then.

                -Yeah. -I'm moving to Nebraska to find myself.

                -Yeah. -Great, yeah.

                Did you... 

                No, I didn't, and I want to go home. 

                There's been a misunderstanding. 

                There's no misunderstanding. 

                You're leaving, and you're never coming back as long as you live.

                You're not gonna visit me. 

                You're not gonna call me. You're not even gonna think about me.

                This killing is making you a little bit temperamental.

                I'm not temperamental, I'm mad. There's a difference.

                You asked me to kill your ex-girlfriend's boyfriend.

                That's not a normal relationship request.

                That was a coincidence. 

                Yeah, sure. 

                Just like the rest of them. 

                You're just using me to get what you want.

                I almost trusted you. 

                Good-bye, good luck and get out. 

                And Daniel? 

                Yes? 

                I hope you do really crummy at the talent show tonight.

                Hi, I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but did you know...

                that the Lord Jesus Christ watches your every move?

                Yes. 

                Yes. You're a brother in the spirit, just like me.

                -Forty-two. -Psalm    is one of my favorites too.

                -"The deer that-" -Forty-two.

                There's    dead bodies buried out there in that yard.

                You know what? Brother, I think I'm gonna come back tomorrow.

                -There's    dead bodies out there. -Let go of me.

                -You need to sober up. -You take me.

                No! Let go of me! Help! 

                Let go of me, you fat retard! 

                That's it, hurt me! 

                Spank me! Call me Cheesy-weezy! 

                Come on! 

                -Sorry to interrupt. -Danny, what are you doing here?

                Now I see why you wanted Dick Rasmusson killed.

                All right, Danny. I'll give you $     not to tell Ivy.

                What you don't understand is you're just my boss, but Ivy's my sister.

                Oh, my God! 

                -Put the gun away, Danny. -No.

                Danny, I order you. Put the gun... 

                You always told me the one with the gun gave the orders.

                -Oh, my God. He's gonna kill us. -No, he's not.

                He doesn't have the guts. 

                -That's what you think. -You can kill him, just don't kill me.

                -I'm premed. -Shut up!

                What is the deal with crossing guards? 

                They're the sirens of the school system. 

                You know what your problem is, Jared? 

                You can't see what's right in front of you.

                What's right in front of me, Danny, is a dead man.

                I'm talking about love. Ivy loved you! 

                -Who's Ivy? -Shut up! Love is a rare thing, Jared.

                You ought to hold onto it when you get an opportunity.

                What the hell are you talking about? 

                I'm talking about killing you. And her! 

                Go on. Pull the trigger. You don't have the guts. Go on!

                -I will. -Do it!

                -I will. -Go ahead!

                I knew you didn't have the guts. 

                Who's been making your hits? 

                -We're back. -You remember us.

                -Of course I remember you. -We got an anonymous tip.

                From some guy. 

                So I guess Daniel did find a way to get back at me.

                Excuse me? 

                Nothing. 

                -This tip led us to a junk yard. -A junk yard with    bodies in it.

                -All dead. -One of them was Dick Rasmusson.

                -A PI. -And one punch short of a free latte.

                Sad, really. And his death too. 

                But here's where the story gets weird. 

                A few days ago, me and Murphy were in a strip bar.

                -We get horny like everyone else. -And we meet this PI.

                -A real clown named Rasmusson. -Said he had a gal.

                -A gal named Colleen. -A gal he was going to marry.

                What? 

                Of course, we didn't put two and two together until after  :  .

                And that's quitting time. 

                You don't seem real surprised that Dick's dead.

                I am surprised. 

                I'm just shocked. 

                Donít you think it's strange that one day some mob goon...

                is killed by your painting, and the next day...

                we're digging the body of your fiancť out of a pile of pop cans?

                There's even more. 

                We found this punk sink salesman shot to death in the park.

                And the slug the lab pulled out of him matched the slug in the PI.

                We haven't found the gun. 

                I think it has special powers. 

                Don't screw it up. 

                Oh, man. 

                Two bodies. One gun. 

                That's why we want to search your house. 

                Well, you'll need a search warrant. 

                First place we check in any suspicious murder case is the basement.

                All novice killers hide their victims in the basement.

                -Some psychological thing, like burial. -I think it symbolizes hell.

                It's burial. Hey, cool, a guitar! 

                This thing's out of tune. 

                Probably has something to do with this bullet hole in the back.

                That would do it. Hey, there's blood on this guitar.

                -A little vinegar would take that out. -I'd use dish soap.

                I hear the teakettle boiling. 

                That was a door locking, wasn't it? 

                Yeah. I think so. 

                Did you do it? Did you kill him? 

                Not quite. 

                But I detained him... 

                and when he wakes up... 

                he's gonna be pissed. 

                So you gotta get out of town. 

                -Two tickets to Rome. -Are you coming with me?

                No, I'm going to the talent show to sing my heart out.

                Then I'm gonna find the woman I love and ask her to marry me.

                Good-bye, Daniel Gallagher. 

                Welcome to the WXI U talent show. 

                I'm Dash Davis, but you know that. 

                Okay, tonight we have a lot of great folks here to entertain us...

                and I am just standing in the way up here.

                So let me introduce a bunch of nice young men...

                "Screaming Blood Monkey." 

                Push! Come on, push! 

                Bye, Daniel Gallagher. 

                And now, ladies and gentlemen... 

                get your handkerchiefs and your whiskey bottles out...

                as here is Daniel Gallagher to sing "Danny Boy."

                Oh, Danny boy 

                The pipes, the pipes 

                Are calling 

                From glen to glen 

                And down the mountain side 

                The summer's gone 

                And all the roses falling 

                It's you, it's you 

                Must go and l must bide 

                But come ye back 

                This kid is good. 

                Yeah, he's good. Why donít you take a doughnut break?

                I can't take a break. I'm Dash Davis, the emcee.

                I think you need a doughnut. 

                It's I'll be here 

                In sunshine or in shadow 

                Oh, Danny boy 

                Oh, Danny boy l love you so 

                And l shall hear 

                Though soft you tread above me 

                And all my grave 

                Will warmer, sweeter be 

                -Isn't that Daniel Gallagher? -One of Jared O'Reilly's boys.

                -What's he doing here? -I don't know.

                Let's arrest him and ask questions later.

                -Wait a minute. -What?

                It's "Danny Boy." 

                In peace until you come to me 

                And l shall hear 

                Though soft you tread above me 

                And all my grave 

                Will warmer, sweeter be 

                For you will bend 

                And tell me that you love me 

                So then I discover that not only does he want me to bump off...

                his ex-girlfriend's boyfriend, he's gonna turn me over to the cops.

                Probably so he can, you know... 

                live happily ever after with his angel, Mary.

                -Wow, that does suck. -See, I told you.

                Until you come 

                To 

                Me 

                Thank you very much. 

                Well, that's the big finish. I better go plug him.

                Thank you very much. 

                That song is dedicated to the woman I love.

                -Yeah, Mary. -Colleen Gibson.

                Keep your metal in your pockets, boys. 

                I'm only here for one chicken. Oh, Danny boy.

                You can sing, but you sure can't kill. 

                I knew you never made any of those hits, starting with Dick Rasmusson.

                Say hello to Saint Patrick. 

                Who are you? 

                I'm Colleen Gibson. 

                And I'm a hit man. 

                -Excuse me, pardon me. -Sorry about that.

                And I'm a very, very dangerous woman. 

                -Jared O'Reilly, you're under arrest. -For the murder of Dick Rasmusson.

                I didn't kill Dick Rasmusson. 

                He did kill Dick Rasmusson. He told me so himself.

                A confession. 

                No, no, wait a minute. I killed Dick Rasmusson.

                -I'm a very dangerous hit man! -She didn't kill anyone.

                -She's nothing. -Oh, yeah?

                I've done it before. What's one more? 

                -What are you so angry about? -Well, for one, there's Mary.

                -That's a nice place to start. -She means nothing to me.

                Besides, she moved to Nebraska to find herself.

                All right, but there's also... 

                the anonymous tip the police got about the bodies in the dump.

                Sorry to interrupt, but the anonymous tip was from a guy named Hurley.

                Okay, so I guessed wrong on that one. 

                All right, O'Reilly. Down to the station house with you.

                What happened to your eye? 

                I was ironing a shirt, and someone telephoned me.

                I would never turn you in. I love you. 

                -You don't love me. -I do love you.

                If l didn't love you, would I give you this?

                It's not a gun. 

                Colleen Gibson, will you marry me? 

                Should I kill you... 

                or marry you? 

                -Marry him! -Marry me.

                I love you. I honestly love you. 

                You said the most important thing in the world is trust.

                It's what every relationship is made of. You gotta trust me on this.

                I love you. I love you with all my heart, Colleen.

                You gotta believe. 

                I wasn't really gonna kill you. I was just really mad.

                That's understandable. 

                And the winner is Daniel Gallagher. 

                I won! 

                Thank you. Thank you. 

                That's our show. WXI U, I'm Dash Davis. 

                I parked out back for the quick getaway. 

                Colleen! Great job. I am so proud of you.

                You know, you really do have a gift for this whole killing thing.

                I know! 

                Maybe you could direct your talents in other ways, though.

                You know? Something more artistic, less deadly.

                -How about opening a dress shop? -No.

                I want to fence stolen goods. 

                -People always like a good soap store. -Numbers running!

                -Flower stall? -Racketeering?

                -Do you even know what racketeering is? -No, what is it?

                I don't know. Anyway, no more killing. 

                -But I'm good at it. -No more killing!

                Okay, no more killing. 

                How about extortion? 









  

 
Special help by SergeiK