Singing Detective Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Singing Detective script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the movie by Keith Gordon starring Robert Downey Jr., Mel Gibson, Katie Holmes, Robin Wright Penn, etc..  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Singing Detective. 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.

Swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards for more free movie scripts!

Singing Detective Script


   

                   

That the guy?



 

                   

That's the guy.



 

                   

Does he get

to screw her first?



 

                   

Sure. She can be coming

and going at the same time.



 

                   

What's your poison?



 

                   

Saucer of milk.



 

                   

This looks like a cathouse.



 

                   

Think of it as a kennel.



 

                   

Consider it thunk.



  

                   

So...



  

                   

How much is that doggie

in the window?



  

                   

Which one?



  

                   

Lot of mongrels, this place.



  

                   

The one with the waggedy tail.



  

                   

I do hope that doggie's

for sale.



  

                   

Dee dum!



  

                   

It's a crummy tune, mister.



  

                   

But otherwise...



  

                   

Otherwise?



  

                   

I'm your fluffy little pooch.



  

                   

What'd you say?



  

                   

Okay, so you want to be a dog.



  

                   

No, no, I just want to shit

on the sidewalk.



  

                   

How much is that doggie

in the window?



  

                   

The one with the waggley tail.



  

                   

Hey. I like Patti Page.



  

                   

But does she like you?



  

                   

We're in business.



  

                   

Come on, I got you,



  

                   

- I got you.

- What are you, new?



  

                   

Yeah, I been dealing

with you for three months.



  

                   

Close the blinds.



  

                   

All right, I'll get

the blinds in a minute



  

                   

if you'll give me a second.



  

                   

Close the fucking blinds!



  

                   

That fuck.



  

                   

Do you know who I am?



  

                   

I'm the Singing Detective.



  

                   

Quote, come on, exclamation mark

come on, comma, bitch,



  

                   

exclamation mark,

unquote, he panted...



  

                   

Come on!



  

                   

Come on, bitch!



  

                   

Oh, yeah, yeah!



  

                   

Come on.



  

                   

Oh, yeah.



  

                   

Yeah.



  

                   

He panted...



  

                   

as he drove his...



  

                   

throbbing... into her...



  

                   

What the fuck you

trying to do?



  

                   

Tear me open, what?



  

                   

Is the water?

What is that?



  

                   

What is that?



  

                   

Let go! No!



  

                   

I don't want

a parrot that talks



  

                   

I don't want a bowl

of little fishies



  

                   

He can't take a goldfish

for a walk



  

                   

How much is that doggie

in the window?



  

                   

The one with the waggley tail?



  

                   

How much is that doggie

in the window?



  

                   

I do hope that doggie's for sale



  

                   

No...



  

                   

That's wrong. That's my...



  

                   

She's my...



  

                   

Woman love, hey, hey, hey



  

                   

Hey, woman love,

hey, hey, hey



  

                   

Hey, woman love,

hey, hey, hey



  

                   

Hey, woman love,

hey, hey, hey



  

                   

Hey, woman love,

hey, hey, hey



  

                   

Well, I went to my doctor

not so long ago



  

                   

A-walkin' in a circle

and moanin' low



  

                   

He looked at me and said,

"Good Lord above, son



  

                   

You need a vaccination

of a-woman love"



  

                   

You are... Mr...?



  

                   

Dark.



  

                   

Daniel Dark.

Very inflamed.



  

                   

How are you feeling today?



  

                   

Extensive lesions.



  

                   

Temperature through the roof.

Difficult case.



  

                   

We moved him to a private

room after several



  

                   

disruptive outbursts.

How long have you had



  

                   

psoriatic arthropathy...?



  

                   

"Ow wrong?"



  

                   

Since Pearl Harbor.



  

                   

   years.



  

                   

And do you have

much movement



  

                   

- in your joints?

- Not very...



  

                   

Hydrocortisone injections

all major joints



  

                   

including the toes.



  

                   

And the history?



  

                   

- Oh, initially, coal tar.

- Right.



  

                   

- Then gold injections.

- Mm-hmm.



  

                   

Butazolodin, Indomethocine.



  

                   

Not successful.



  

                   

The courses Prednisone,

Prednisolone,



  

                   

lengthening.

PUVA, not successful.



  

                   

Then Methotrexate



  

                   

after positive liver biopsies.



  

                   

Oh, well, then, excuse me.

Much nausea?



   

                   

Do you, uh, vomit, yes, mm?



   

                   

Y-yeah...



   

                   

Induced neutrophenia.

Wart-like lesions.



   

                   

Removed.

Withdrawn.



   

                   

You're, uh...



   

                   

he's hyper...



   

                   

You're hyperventilating.



   

                   

Um, are you experiencing some

kind of visual dislocations?



   

                   

- Mind tripping?

- I think...



   

                   

Oh, yesterday he said

there was a dog in the bed,



   

                   

uh, chewing his ankles.



   

                   

Okay, things are not good here.



   

                   

Um, how do you feel about



   

                   

Mr...



   

                   

Dark, how would you feel about

one of the new Retinoids?



   

                   

Hmm?



   

                   

Lt... it-it wasn't my ankles.



   

                   

It was chewing my balls.



   

                   

I see.



   

                   

But what I'm asking you is if

you understand the question...



   

                   

No! I don't!



   

                   

Because I have regressed into



   

                   

the pathetic condition

of total dependency, Doc.



   

                   

In short,

and in the vernacular,



   

                   

I'm a fucking kid again.



   

                   

The last time I had



   

                   

to endure anything

this demeaning



   

                   

was in my baby-buggy.



   

                   

I was drooled over

by slobbering cretins...



   

                   

- Mr. Dark!

- Who apparently escaped



   

                   

from the local cuckoo house.



   

                   

They thought they were

doctors and nurses.



   

                   

What, uh...



   

                   

what exactly did you, uh...



   

                   

what'd you do for a-a living,

Mr., what, I forget his name...



   

                   

Dark?



   

                   

What did I do?



   

                   

I'm an author.



   

                   

Oh... oh.



   

                   

I didn't realize...



   

                   

Dan Dark.



   

                   

Trash that doesn't sell.



   

                   

Detective stories

about a gumshoe



   

                   

who warbles.



   

                   

Well, that sounds interesting.



   

                   

Um, what... what...?



   

                   

Hey, listen to me.



   

                   

Please, please...



   

                   

W-What is it?



   

                   

Will you please listen?



   

                   

I can't talk

lying flat out like this.



   

                   

I need... help

to sit up, please.



   

                   

Oh. Well, help him up.



   

                   

You know, I-I really, um...



   

                   

You understand,

I'm on a very tight schedule...



   

                   

- Listen...

- There you go.



   

                   

Listen... listen...



   

                   

listen!



   

                   

I'm no hero,

and I've reached the end.



   

                   

Of what?



   

                   

My tether.



   

                   

Oh, come on!



   

                   

F...!



   

                   

I'd like...



   

                   

Christ, I'd like

to get out of it, but I can't!



   

                   

Listen! I can't s...

I can't stand it,



   

                   

I really truly can't stand

any... more!



   

                   

I can't get on top of it,

I can't think straight,



   

                   

and I can't tell what is

from what isn't,



   

                   

and if I don't tell someone,



   

                   

if I don't admit it,

I'll never get out of it.



   

                   

Oh, I'm sorry...



   

                   

Oh, the shame.



   

                   

The tears...



   

                   

All this oozing, useless liquid,

it just hurts my... skin.



   

                   

My face, and...



   

                   

and when I laugh,

it hurts my jaw.



   

                   

I'm a prisoner inside my...



   

                   

...my own skin.



   

                   

On the hop!



   

                   

Librium.



   

                   

Valium.



   

                   

Antidepressants.



   

                   

And the barbiturates,

of course.



   

                   

Bah, bah, bah, bah



   

                   

Bah, bah, bah, bah



   

                   

Bah, bah, bah, bah



   

                   

Bah, bah, bah, bah



   

                   

At the hop



   

                   

Well, you can rock it,

you can roll it



   

                   

Do the stop

and even stroll it



   

                   

- At the hop

- Hop, hop, hop, hop



   

                   

When the record starts spinning



   

                   

You calypso

when you chicken at the hop



   

                   

Hop, hop, hop, hop



   

                   

Do the dance sensation

that is sweeping the nation



   

                   

- At the hop

- Hop, hop, hop, hop



   

                   

Let's go to the hop



   

                   

Let's go to the hop,

oh, baby



   

                   

Let's go to the hop,

oh, baby



   

                   

Let's go to the hop



   

                   

Come on,

let's go to the hop



   

                   

Well, you can swing it,

you can groove it



   

                   

You can really start

to move it at the hop



   

                   

Ah, ah, ah



   

                   

Where the jockey

is the smoothest



   

                   

And the music is the coolest

at the hop



   

                   

All the cats and chicks

can get their kicks at the hop



   

                   

Let's go!



   

                   

Let's go to the hop



   

                   

Let's go to the hop,

oh, baby



   

                   

Let's go to the hop,

oh, baby



   

                   

Let's go to the hop



   

                   

Come on



   

                   

Let's go to the hop



   

                   

Let's go!



   

                   

Bah, bah, bah, bah



   

                   

Bah, bah, bah, bah



   

                   

Bah, bah, bah, bah



   

                   

Bah, bah, bah, bah



   

                   

At the hop!



   

                   

Well, there is an upside

to all this pain and...



   

                   

I firmly believe that.



   

                   

And...



   

                   

Good morning.



   

                   

Uh...



   

                   

he's almost over the edge.



   

                   

I think that Gibbon

should see him. Okay?



   

                   

Pretty Nina was full of semen,

comma, and bath water, period.



   

                   

But the pretty head...



   

                   

that knew too much

was now emptied...



   

                   

of its last

sad, little thought, period.



   

                   

A lot of products.



   

                   

Oh, lookee here.



   

                   

Body cream.



   

                   

Jesus.



   

                   

Harem Nights.



   

                   

Is it done?



   

                   

This goo, you put it

under your armpits,



   

                   

you beat your meat with it,

what?



   

                   

- Shaddup.

- Hey.



   

                   

Shaddup!



   

                   

Ah.



   

                   

Just like a dame.



   

                   

Tough guys don't upchuck.



   

                   

They half know that vomit

is a kind of sacrament.



   

                   

Period.



   

                   

How are we today?



   

                   

Mm, I'm not too happy.



   

                   

I don't... I don't

know about him.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

Or maybe you mean you.



   

                   

What do you mean?



   

                   

Well, how are we today?



   

                   

See, you say, "we."



   

                   

Who's the other guy?



   

                   

It's just

a way of speaking.



   

                   

Yeah, it's a medical way.



   

                   

Assume loss of health

equals loss of brain cells.



   

                   

Do you think you have

a positive attitude?



   

                   

Don't... don't.



   

                   

You're going to crack me up.



   

                   

Well, that depends on whether

we're talking donuts you dunk



   

                   

or black feminist lesbians.



   

                   

I'm in favor of both,

up to a point.



   

                   

You know, your illness,

to a large...



   

                   

Will I be able to move

on my own three feet?



   

                   

Will I hold a pen

or a tit again?



   

                   

Never mind the rhetoric.



   

                   

I can get that from

a doctor, Doctor.



   

                   

I have seen a lot of patients

who are as bad as you are,



   

                   

but not one of them has reacted

with such aggression.



   

                   

What they do, sing madrigals?



   

                   

Well, they don't act



   

                   

like they've fallen

into a sewer.



   

                   

Ah, see...



   

                   

I thought you were

pushing tranquilizers.



   

                   

I didn't realize you

had a deodorant in mind.



   

                   

You should take them,

you know, the tranquilizers.



   

                   

No! No, no and no.



   

                   

How long are you going

to see your plight



   

                   

through a blinding hot rage,

Mr. Dark? Hmm?



   

                   

What do you live by?



   

                   

What? Come on.



   

                   

All right,

it's an embarrassing question,



   

                   

but surely

there must be something



   

                   

in a time of crises...



   

                   

What do you believe in?



   

                   

Genocide.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

Genocide.



   

                   

Starting in Los Angeles and

working its way eastward.



   

                   

I believe in so many things.



   

                   

Infanticide, insecticide,



   

                   

cy... anide, suicide,



   

                   

AIDS...



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

All right. Okay.



   

                   

I put my faith in cholesterol,

caffeine, nicotine, alcohol,



   

                   

President Bush,

carbon monoxide, masturbation,



   

                   

nuclear first-strike,

the Reader's Digest and...



   

                   

not properly labeling poisons.



   

                   

Are you done?



   

                   

But most of all,



   

                   

Doc, most of all, I believe

in the one good thing



   

                   

that comes hurtling

out of people's mouths.



   

                   

Ralph. Vomit. Puke.



   

                   

The Technicolor yawn.



   

                   

Cookie dough!



   

                   

There is a good man here.



   

                   

- Uh-huh.

- He's new.



   

                   

He's very alert

and sympathetic.



   

                   

Dr. Gibbon.



   

                   

Doctor... of what?



   

                   

Skin, joints, zoology?



   

                   

He's a psychotherapist.



   

                   

Go fuck yourself!



   

                   

You will never

get on top of your condition



   

                   

until you deal

with your bitterness.



   

                   

Start over.



   

                   

Reassemble yourself.



   

                   

Reassemble myself?



   

                   

With what?



   

                   

Many a tear has to fall



   

                   

Do, do, do, do, do



   

                   

- But it's all

- Do, do, do, do, do



   

                   

In the game



   

                   

Do, do, do, do, do, do, do



   

                   

All in the wonderful game



   

                   

Do, do, do, do, do



   

                   

That we know as love



   

                   

Do, do, do, do, do, do, do



   

                   

You have words with him



   

                   

And your future's

looking dim...



   

                   

Sorry, guys, I need five.



   

                   

The words are breaking my heart.



   

                   

See you gators later.



   

                   

In a while, reptile.



   

                   

Dan Dark?



   

                   

Is it you,

the guy I've been waiting for



   

                   

ever since Sax

invented the phone?



   

                   

Come on, are you the big cheese

with the fat contract



   

                   

who just loves

the way I tickle a tune?



   

                   

Sorry, no.



   

                   

Yeah, that's right, trouble.



   

                   

You're in trouble.



   

                   

I'm told you can help me.



   

                   

You get results.



   

                   

Oh, I get the cases

the polite guys pass.



   

                   

See, I get the jobs the guys

who don't sing don't get.



   

                   

So, what's the story?



   

                   

Who's the dame?



   

                   

How do you know there's a dame?



   

                   

There's always a dame.



   

                   

Tell me, am I right...

or am I right?



   

                   

There's always a dame.



   

                   

Am I right, or am I right?



   

                   

There's always a body, too.



   

                   

Talking to yourself again?



   

                   

I had on my best pajamas,



   

                   

the ones with red stripes

and the blue forget-me-nots.



   

                   

And I was powdered

under the armpits



   

                   

and talculmed

between each toe



   

                   

'cause a million bucks

was about to call



   

                   

and I was ready for it.



   

                   

I see.



   

                   

High temperature again.



   

                   

When she moved her lips



   

                   

I felt like a tulip

in dry season



   

                   

when the first raindrop

smacked into it.



   

                   

I decided to open up.



   

                   

Boy, was I green.



   

                   

Or do I mean wet?



   

                   

Come to grease me, did ya?



   

                   

If you're ready.



   

                   

As ready as a back axle.



   

                   

Okay, let's get these off.



   

                   

I'll try not to hurt.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

You look better.



   

                   

Thanks.



   

                   

Oh, cock.



   

                   

Cock, do not crow!



   

                   

Poor cock.



   

                   

Do not stir.



   

                   

Think of something boring.



   

                   

Something very, very boring.



   

                   

Oh. Quick.



   

                   

The Mormon Tabernacle Choir

now brings you...



   

                   

selections from

The Sound of Music.



   

                   

Snoopy pictures on the wall.



   

                   

Nine grain toast with...



   

                   

reduced sugar marmalade. Oh!



   

                   

Old baseball players.



   

                   

Piņa coladas!



   

                   

Sorry, is it too hard?



   

                   

Go. Fine.



   

                   

Not... not too hard.



   

                   

It's worst of all here,

inside your thighs.



   

                   

Huh.



   

                   

Organic pizza.



   

                   

Bumper stickers that ask you

to honk for Jesus.



   

                   

Worrying about whales

and, oh, God,



   

                   

oh, what about

fucking baby seals?



   

                   

Fortune cookie messages,



   

                   

and... and denim accessories.



   

                   

Oh, muppets and puppets!



   

                   

Sorry, I...



   

                   

I'll have to lift your penis now

to grease around it.



   

                   

Bum, bum, bum, bum,

bum, bum, bum, bum



   

                   

Bum, bum, bum,

bum, bum, bum



   

                   

Bum, bum, bum, bum,

bum, bum, bum, bum



   

                   

Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum



   

                   

Mr. Sandman



   

                   

Bring me a dream



   

                   

Bum, bum, bum, bum



   

                   

Make him the cutest

that I've ever seen



   

                   

Bum, bum, bum, bum



   

                   

Give him two lips

like roses and clover



   

                   

Bum, bum, bum, bum



   

                   

Then tell him that his

lonesome nights are over



   

                   

Sandman



   

                   

I'm so alone



   

                   

Bum, bum, bum, bum



   

                   

Don't have nobody

to call my own



   

                   

Bum, bum, bum, bum



   

                   

Please turn

on your magic beam



   

                   

Mr. Sandman,

bring me a dream



   

                   

Bum, bum, bum, bum,

bum, bum, bum, bum



   

                   

Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum,

bum, bum, bum



   

                   

Bum, bum, bum, bum,

bum, bum, bum, bum



   

                   

Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum,

bum, bum, bum



   

                   

Mr. Sandman



   

                   

Bring me a dream



   

                   

Make him the cutest

that I've ever seen



   

                   

Give him the word

that I'm not a rover...



   

                   

Sorry.



   

                   

I'm going to have

to lift your penis



   

                   

now to grease around it.



   

                   

...his lonesome nights

are over



   

                   

Sandman



   

                   

I'm so alone



   

                   

Don't have nobody

to call my own



   

                   

Please turn on your magic beam



   

                   

Ah!



   

                   

I'm so sorry.



   

                   

That's the one part of me

that still sort of functions.



   

                   

We don't have to talk about it,

do we?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

They say she was with me that

night, but I swear to God...



   

                   

Swear to something

you believe in, bud.



   

                   

I swear on my mother's grave

Nina left me alive and unharmed.



   

                   

That her name? The whore?



   

                   

Why do you call her that?



   

                   

Dog shit by another name

smells just as foul, pal,



   

                   

and it sticks to the bottom

of your blue suede shoe



   

                   

no matter what

you call it, okay?



   

                   

You've stepped into

something nasty.



   

                   

You want me to clean it up.



   

                   

I want you to find out

what happened to her



   

                   

after she left me...

and to prove nothing bad



   

                   

happened to her

from my hands.



   

                   

But it did.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

Wouldn't that be the way

her mother would see it?



   

                   

Her mother,

for Christ's sakes?



   

                   

You just swore on your mother's

grave, Mr. Binney.



   

                   

I'm not hiring you



   

                   

for a mouthful of cant

and humbug, Mr. Dark.



   

                   

Maybe the cops are fixing

to fry you, Binney.



   

                   

Maybe you're playing

some deeper game.



   

                   

You're not a

nice guy, Dark.



   

                   

Ah, but you'll pay me,

Binney...



   

                   

and you'll pay me double

for the cant and the humbug.



   

                   

Period.



   

                   

Part of the service, period.



   

                   

End paragraph.



   

                   

All right, so, uh,



   

                   

you're gonna wait for

him here, all right?



   

                   

Yeah, all right.



   

                   

Cuckoo man.



   

                   

My book.



   

                   

What's it doing here?



   

                   

What's going on?



   

                   

Your book, Mr. Dark.



   

                   

Happened to pick up

a copy



   

                   

the other day.



   

                   

Oh, yeah? Where?



   

                   

Fertilizer factory?



   

                   

He said out of the side

of his mouth.



   

                   

Gibbon. How are you,

Mr. Dark?



   

                   

Can't... shake.



   

                   

Oh, yes, of course.

I'm sorry.



   

                   

And I wouldn't if I could.



   

                   

I'm here under protest.



   

                   

Well, I see. A kidnap.



   

                   

Little men shouldn't sit



   

                   

where their feet don't touch

the floor.



   

                   

Makes me think

of nursery rhymes.



   

                   

You don't want



   

                   

to see me.



   

                   

What sharpness. What perception.



   

                   

And you don't like it at all

that I've got this.



   

                   

It's full of clues.



   

                   

No, it's full of pages.



   

                   

Oh, but clues are what

you're supposed to find



   

                   

in a detective story.



   

                   

Am I right, or...

am I right?



   

                   

Jesus. You're good.



   

                   

I know clues are

supposed to lead you



   

                   

to the killer, but, uh...



   

                   

what if they reveal



   

                   

the victim a little

more clearly?



   

                   

You think you're being

interesting, don't you?



   

                   

If this was a movie, you'd be

on the cutting room floor.



   

                   

Does your book worry you?



   

                   

I want to go back to my bed.



   

                   

It's vivid and exciting there.



   

                   

Well, you don't

have any visitors.



   

                   

How do you know?



   

                   

Well, does your wife

come and visit you, or...



   

                   

- I'm not married.

- Or do you stop her when...?



   

                   

I'm not married.



   

                   

Oh, and period.



   

                   

Oh, oh, yes, I see.



   

                   

Stop it! Stop staring at me!



   

                   

You've never seen

a human pizza before?



   

                   

You... you don't like women,

do you?



   

                   

Which ones? Young ones, old

ones, fat ones, faithful ones?



   

                   

Virgins? Whores?

Try to be specific, Doc.



   

                   

Maybe, maybe you think



   

                   

you like 'em...



   

                   

uh, but, uh, my guess is,

well, you don't like sex.



   

                   

How do you spell that?



   

                   

That's not a word

you see much nowadays.



   

                   

You probably think you do.



   

                   

Sex.



   

                   

Well, we think about it



   

                   

all the time... I know I do.



   

                   

Oh, if-if-if I say "Fuck you,"



   

                   

does that mean yes?



   

                   

Well, isn't it clear



   

                   

that you regard

sexual intercourse



   

                   

with, uh... distaste

or... perhaps even



   

                   

a little fear?



   

                   

What, am I trapped in here

with a fruitcake?



   

                   

Here, for example,

on page    ...



   

                   

This is against

the Geneva Convention.



   

                   

Oh, I-I'm just going

to read you a passage



   

                   

out of your own book.



   

                   

- No!

- No?



   

                   

Shove it up your ass!



   

                   

Just walkin' in the rain



   

                   

Getting soakin' wet



   

                   

Oh, no.



   

                   

Torturin' my heart



   

                   

Fucking...



   

                   

By tryin' to forget



   

                   

Dad, what's wrong?



   

                   

Just walkin' in the rain



   

                   

So alone and blue...



   

                   

I don't wish to upset you,

Mr. Dark.



   

                   

I'm just walkin' in the rain,

Doc.



   

                   

I think you know

you need help.



   

                   

Now, you're too aware

of your own condition



   

                   

to deny it.



   

                   

Just collecting raindrops.



   

                   

Most chronic skin patients



   

                   

are on tranquilizers

or antidepressants.



   

                   

See, the skin is

very personal.



   

                   

It's, uh, tempting



   

                   

to believe that the

poisons of the mind



   

                   

have somehow...



   

                   

erupted onto the surface

of the skin.



   

                   

"Unclean, unclean!" you shout,



   

                   

ringing your leper's bell,

warding us all off.



   

                   

That'll destroy you.



   

                   

Yes, I think you know that,



   

                   

or at least

part of you does.



   

                   

You can be helped.



   

                   

Yeah, with a Mickey Finn.



   

                   

Now, why mimic that stuff?



   

                   

What stuff?



   

                   

That out-the-side

- of-your-mouth



   

                   

kind of stuff.



   

                   

That down-these-mean-streets

kind of stuff.



   

                   

I'm sorry.



   

                   

What kind of stuff?



   

                   

You know, my feeling is that,

um...



   

                   

now that... after I've read

some of your prose...



   

                   

Ho, ho, hee, hee.



   

                   

...my feeling is

that, uh, you didn't



   

                   

start out to write in this way.



   

                   

What would you

have preferred



   

                   

to have written?



   

                   

What, if I had the talent,

you mean?



   

                   

No, of course I don't mean that.



   

                   

No, go ahead, be a critic.



   

                   

You got the face for it.



   

                   

If you like, all right.



   

                   

Uh, if you had the talent.



   

                   

If I had the talent,



   

                   

one-liners for Michael Jackson,

two-liners for Helen Keller,



   

                   

if it wouldn't be stretching her

too much.



   

                   

Maybe traffic citations

for Ted Kennedy.



   

                   

Who knows?



   

                   

It's just one word

after another.



   

                   

That's where all the problems

of the world start:



   

                   

The next goddamn word.



   

                   

It's not incriminating.



   

                   

What isn't?



   

                   

Telling me what you

would prefer to write.



   

                   

I would like to have praised

a loving God



   

                   

and all His Loving Creation...



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

...and to have seen...



   

                   

hosts of translucent angels



   

                   

ascending spinning shafts

of golden light



   

                   

to the deep blue caverns

of heaven.



   

                   

Hell, they'd all have

these massive titties,



   

                   

wouldn't they?



   

                   

Well, here's one part here

that doesn't seem to... fit in



   

                   

with the rest.



   

                   

Here it is.



   

                   

"Mouth sucking,

wet and slack at mouth,



   

                   

"tongue chafing against tongue,



   

                   

"limb thrusting

upon limb...



   

                   

skin rubbing at skin."



   

                   

Hmm..."Faces contort and

stretch into a helpless leer,



   

                   

"organs spurt out smelly stains

and sticky betrayals.



   

                   

"This is the sweaty farce



   

                   

out of which we are

brought into being..."



   

                   

Okay, okay, enough.



   

                   

"We are implicated

without choice



   

                   

"in the slippery catastrophe



   

                   

"of copulations that spatter us

into existence.



   

                   

Okay!



   

                   

"We are spat

out of fevered loins.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

"We are the by-blows

of grunts and pantings



   

                   

"in a rumpled and

creaking bed.



   

                   

Shut up, you

sadistic quack!



   

                   

Welcome."



   

                   

Hmm?



   

                   

Yeah, the Milk of Paradise.



   

                   

I can taste it now.



   

                   

How much is that doggie

in the window?



   

                   

The one

with the waggley tail



   

                   

How much is that doggie

in the window?



   

                   

I do hope

that doggie's for sale



   

                   

I must take a trip

to California



   

                   

And leave my poor sweetheart

alone...



   

                   

"The Devil was alive

in his eyes,



   

                   

"hot with hate.



   

                   

"I felt that ice chink

against my spine.



   

                   

Hell, I was staring

straight into..."



   

                   

How much is that doggie...



   

                   

Mark, he's going to see us.



   

                   

No, Mark...



   

                   

Stand out there,

he will see you.



   

                   

Come on.



   

                   

It's okay.



   

                   

Let go, Betty.



   

                   

I'm just scared is all.



   

                   

What can he do?



   

                   

Nothing.



   

                   

We're partners anyway.



   

                   

Says so on the sign.



   

                   

Partners in peanuts.



   

                   

Hmm...



   

                   

Well, I'll take my piece

right now.



   

                   

Don't say it like that.



   

                   

Oh, now, you're just scared,



   

                   

that's all.



   

                   

God, I love your mouth



   

                   

when you don't like

something I say.



   

                   

Ain't nothin' to be scared of.



   

                   

Nobody comes to this old barn

no more...



   

                   

except the rats.



   

                   

And you.



   

                   

Hmm?



   

                   

Sounds like you've

been here before.



   

                   

Me? What for?



   

                   

Who with?



   

                   

You are no good, Mark.



   

                   

What about you...



   

                   

Mrs. Dark?



   

                   

Oh!



   

                   

Oh.



   

                   

Angel.



   

                   

Here.



   

                   

Come on, bitch.



   

                   

Tongue chafing against tongue,



   

                   

limb thrusting upon limb,



   

                   

skin rubbing at skin.



   

                   

Faces contort and stretch

into a helpless leer.



   

                   

Organs spurt out smelly stains

and...



   

                   

Sticky betrayals.



   

                   

Just walking in the rain



   

                   

Getting soaking wet



   

                   

Torturing my heart



   

                   

By trying to forget



   

                   

Just walking in the rain



   

                   

So alone and blue



   

                   

All because my heart



   

                   

He's still waving.



   

                   

Dad just kept waving.



   

                   

- Still remembers you...

- What?



   

                   

I said, how far is it?



   

                   

About     miles.



   

                   

Will we like it...



   

                   

Los Angeles?



   

                   

Mom?



   

                   

Lt'll be dark



   

                   

and full of gangsters.



   

                   

I'm afraid

he had to be sedated.



   

                   

He's been asleep

most of the day.



   

                   

The poor man.



   

                   

They're trying him

on a new drug,



   

                   

but you know that, of course.



   

                   

Of course.



   

                   

Mr. Dark?



   

                   

Your wife.



   

                   

You know what, I...



   

                   

Maybe we shouldn't wake him.



   

                   

They wanted to know if you came.



   

                   

The doctors.



   

                   

They'd like to speak with you.



   

                   

Well, yeah, maybe

I-I should speak to somebody.



   

                   

I mean, at least I won't



   

                   

get my head bitten off.



   

                   

Sorry?



   

                   

Oh, uh, if he wakes up

and sees me here,



   

                   

you'll know what I mean.



   

                   

It's... Dan Dark, Darker,

Darkest, kind of his thing.



   

                   

Actually,

I'm-I'm going to go. I...



   

                   

I think

I shouldn't have come.



   

                   

I just...

I shouldn't even try.



   

                   

Wait. Please...



   

                   

Farewell, my lovely.



   

                   

You bitch!



   

                   

Nicola!



   

                   

Come here, you disgusting tramp!



   

                   

You two-bit slag bitch!



   

                   

Nicola!



   

                   

Who are you

spreading your legs for now?



   

                   

Come back here now,

you stupid



   

                   

bitch whore cunt!



   

                   

Mr. Dark, what do you

think you're doing?



   

                   

Where do you

think you are?



   

                   

I'm so sorry.



   

                   

Is there a problem?



   

                   

Yes, there's

a problem.



   

                   

You're the problem.



   

                   

Stop the yelling.



   

                   

It's disgusting.



   

                   

You should be

ashamed of yourself.



   

                   

You stop it at once!



   

                   

I so don't want

to be disruptive.



   

                   

Good.



   

                   

I was just sort of singing.



   

                   

You were what?



   

                   

Many a tear has to fall



   

                   

But it's all in the game.



   

                   

Ah, there are mysteries,

puzzles.



   

                   

There are always things



   

                   

that bewilder us

as children, Mr. Dark.



   

                   

Mmm.



   

                   

Accept it. Yes?



   

                   

Mmm.



   

                   

Accept the sky,

accept the birds.



   

                   

Accept bird shit.



   

                   

Has your wife been

to visit you yet?



   

                   

God, the way you walk

up and down behind me.



   

                   

I mean, are you pretending

to be an oddball,



   

                   

or are you actually nuts?



   

                   

Ah, there you are.



   

                   

You're looking better.



   

                   

Uh-huh. Am I?



   

                   

Yeah. Your posture, too.



   

                   

- Great.

- Less pain?



   

                   

Yeah, maybe.



   

                   

Well, you know, you-you ought

to let those neck muscles



   

                   

...relax a little.



   

                   

Oh, I'm sorry.

Forgive me. I, uh...



   

                   

God.



   

                   

Well, that's why I...



   

                   

Well, look, I just...



   

                   

If you could just

turn your head.



   

                   

Uh, you'd-you'd get

fewer headaches that way.



   

                   

Who says I get headaches?



   

                   

Oh, you do,

don't you?



   

                   

Severe ones, hmm?



   

                   

And no doubt, as a result,



   

                   

your perceptions are probably

somewhat distorted, hmm?



   

                   

Yeah. I can see around corners



   

                   

and right up

your hairy little self.



   

                   

Not to mention that

ugly temper, yeah.



   

                   

Minute by minute,

we make the world, Doc.



   

                   

Our own world.



   

                   

Hmm.



   

                   

Well, what do you think?



   

                   

You think it's time maybe

you went back to work again?



   

                   

Tell me how, Dr. Donothing.



   

                   

Well, I never write

anything down myself.



   

                   

I dictate.

Never tried it.



   

                   

With whom?

Question mark.



   

                   

Well, there are people.



   

                   

Agencies.



   

                   

Has somebody been getting

to you?



   

                   

What do you mean?



   

                   

Has a certain whore



   

                   

of my former acquaintance been

pushing her hard little nose



   

                   

into my affairs?



   

                   

Mr. Dark,



   

                   

do you plan

to get better?



   

                   

Hmm?



   

                   

Chronic illness

is a shelter. Yeah.



   

                   

A cave in the rocks



   

                   

into which a wounded

spirit can safely crawl.



   

                   

Some cave.



   

                   

Oh, no, no, no.



   

                   

Not very comfortable,



   

                   

not at all.



   

                   

No. There are bats in it. Mmm.



   

                   

Squeaking rodents



   

                   

with wings of skin and fur,



   

                   

that hang upside down,



   

                   

crunching beetles

in their teeth.



   

                   

But you know all about that.



   

                   

You know about bats.



   

                   

Shut up, shrimp.



   

                   

You turned, you turned!



   

                   

I did.



   

                   

I did.



   

                   

Not now. No. Go.



   

                   

Who was that?



   

                   

Huh?



   

                   

What's that?

That's progress, Mr. Dark.



   

                   

Progress.



   

                   

Who knows how far it can go.



   

                   

Oh, from the neck down,

you mean.



   

                   

Hmm?



   

                   

If you're thinking

the other way around,



   

                   

if you want to

get inside my head,



   

                   

you better forget it.



   

                   

Hmm. Good.



   

                   

Wait. You...



   

                   

He's asleep.



   

                   

- Who is?

- My boy.



   

                   

You mean you got a kid in here?



   

                   

Jesus.



   

                   

Shh, shh, shh.

Not so loud.



   

                   

Listen, doll, when I fuck,

I like to make a noise, okay?



   

                   

All right, all right.



   

                   

Come on.



   

                   

This way. It's okay.



   

                   

Here we go.



   

                   

What a disgusting disease.



   

                   

Gee, thanks.



   

                   

Dan. I don't...



   

                   

No, no, no. Sit down,

sit down. Why not?



   

                   

Keep the laughs coming.



   

                   

Who's laughing?



   

                   

You are beyond the

shadow of a doubt



   

                   

an exceptionally

beautiful woman.



   

                   

At your peak.



   

                   

That sounds like

a death sentence.



   

                   

It is a death sentence.



   

                   

Dan, listen...



   

                   

Three months I've been

in this fucking bed.



   

                   

You know that?



   

                   

Where you been?



   

                   

Who are you? What are you?



   

                   

I don't know.



   

                   

I hallucinate now and then.



   

                   

Ain't that a laugh?



   

                   

The past, the present...

they're all in that



   

                   

cheap old book of mine,

and I didn't even know it.



   

                   

So are you, honey.



   

                   

- Me?

- Uh-huh.



   

                   

Nicola.



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

You are a filthy,



   

                   

predatory, totally wanton bitch

who is always in heat,



   

                   

and I don't want you near me.



   

                   

I don't.



   

                   

I don't. Not now.



   

                   

I don't. Not ever.



   

                   

What if I said

I still loved you?



   

                   

Liar.



   

                   

I have some things

to discuss with you.



   

                   

There's a film company

that wants to buy the rights



   

                   

to that first book.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

The Singing Detective.



   

                   

The one set in the '  s.



   

                   

Is that the book

you've been talking about?



   

                   

They want it

for Roger Rabbit, right?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

They seem, um...



   

                   

keen.



   

                   

Keen?



   

                   

Hey, what's this got to do

with you?



   

                   

You're broke,



   

                   

and you haven't written a word

for over a year.



   

                   

I mean, Danny,

I just want you to be able



   

                   

to support yourself.



   

                   

Oh, God, I see.



   

                   

Baby, Baby... still thinks

I owe her money.



   

                   

No.



   

                   

You could work

it out at, say,



   

                   

$    a screw.



   

                   

Isn't that top rate for hookers?



   

                   

Is it?



   

                   

I wouldn't know.



   

                   

Who are you sleeping with

at the moment?



   

                   

Myself, mostly.



   

                   

Mostly?



   

                   

Mostly.



   

                   

Mostly means not always.



   

                   

Right, if you want

to be precise.



   

                   

Dan...



   

                   

you need to function.



   

                   

You just...

you need to get your hand



   

                   

on that old book...



   

                   

What happened to the screenplay?

Where is it?



   

                   

What screenplay?



   

                   

The one in my head.



   

                   

What are you talking about?



   

                   

That is the

worst thing



   

                   

about a detective

story is the plot.



   

                   

It's the best thing, too.



   

                   

I mean, hell,

isn't it really...?



   

                   

It's just... it's

the only thing.



   

                   

You got to work it out

like a rat in a maze.



   

                   

That's what I'm trying to do

right now.



   

                   

Yeah, but with a story

you've already written?



   

                   

Oh, oh, oh, oh...



   

                   

It grows.



   

                   

How... when you already know

what's going to happen?



   

                   

Where is it?!



   

                   

Where is what?



   

                   

The fucking screenplay...

The Singing Detective.



   

                   

I wrote it years ago;

I put in shoe boxes.



   

                   

Shoe boxes?



   

                   

Yes! Fucking shoe boxes!



   

                   

Danny...



   

                   

I know.



   

                   

Boy, do I know.



   

                   

Dan...



   

                   

You need to write

something new.



   

                   

Something real.



   

                   

Like what?



   

                   

Like this, like everything



   

                   

that's happening right now.



   

                   

Not a silly detective story.



   

                   

Something real.



   

                   

Ah, solutions.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

All solutions



   

                   

and no clues, right?



   

                   

'Cause that's

what the dumbheads want.



   

                   

They want the serious novel,

right?



   

                   

Plus descriptions

of the goddamn sky.



   

                   

I want it

the other way around.



   

                   

All clues, no solutions,



   

                   

'cause that's the way...

things are.



   

                   

Now...



   

                   

Why do you know about this?



   

                   

Why do you know?

Tell me.



   

                   

Were you a party to the offer

in the first place?



   

                   

Tell me what's going on.



   

                   

Tell me.



   

                   

Tell me!



   

                   

Paranoia. I don't...



   

                   

Or theft.



   

                   

Danny, stop.



   

                   

Do you want my help or not?



   

                   

Do I want your help?



   

                   

Do I want you to help me?



   

                   

Well, you think on it.



   

                   

Okay. You go fuck yourself.



   

                   

Okay. I love you too, Danny.



   

                   

Hey, Binney.



   

                   

Quote, no luck, period.



   

                   

No good, period.



   

                   

He was getting very suspicious,

exclamation mark.



   

                   

No luck. No good.



   

                   

He's getting very suspicious.



   

                   

But you'll try again, right?



   

                   

I-I don't know.



   

                   

But we could be sued



   

                   

for misrepresentation

if he doesn't sign.



   

                   

I'll deliver.

I said I would.



   

                   

He still looks awful.



   

                   

Don't start feeling

sorry for him.



   

                   

I don't. I hope

it goes right into



   

                   

his fucking bones.



   

                   

You look terrific

when you're mad.



    

                   

Just like a hornet...



    

                   

drowning in the Tabasco.



    

                   

That's something

Dan Dark would say.



    

                   

You sound like Dan.



    

                   

Sorry, Charlie.



    

                   

How much is that doggie

in the window?



    

                   

The one with the waggley tail



    

                   

How much is that doggie

in the window...?



    

                   

She comes on like a rose



    

                   

But everybody knows



    

                   

She'll get you in Dutch



    

                   

You can look,

but you better not touch



    

                   

Poison ivy...



    

                   

There are songs to sing.



    

                   

There are feelings to feel.



    

                   

There are thoughts to think.



    

                   

That makes three things.



    

                   

You can't do three things

at the same time.



    

                   

...creepin' around...



    

                   

The singing is easy...

sugar on the tongue.



    

                   

The thinking

comes with the tune.



    

                   

So, that

leaves only the feelings,



    

                   

and you're not going

to catch me



    

                   

feeling the feeling.

No, sir.



    

                   

...lf you let her

get under your skin



    

                   

Poison ivy...



    

                   

Watch the light, dickhead.



    

                   

...Late at night

while you're sleepin'



    

                   

Poison ivy

comes a-creepin' around



    

                   

Measles make you bumpy,

and mumps'll make you lumpy



    

                   

And chicken pox'll

make you jump and twitch...



    

                   

The guy's a sitting duck.



    

                   

But why here?



    

                   

What's the sense?



    

                   

J. Edgar H. Prefers a

different kind of tune.



    

                   

What does it matter?



    

                   

Well, I don't like it.



    

                   

Stick to Patti Page, eh?



    

                   

Up there with the lights...

it's the goons.



    

                   

Watch yourself! Watch!



    

                   

...The minute

you start to mess around...



    

                   

How's it going?



    

                   

Halfway there.



    

                   

Halfway to a million bucks.



    

                   

With disdain.



    

                   

Period.



    

                   

I have some nice things,

if that's what you mean.



    

                   

Nice, no.



    

                   

Expensive, I said.



    

                   

Tastes differ.



    

                   

You're more at home in... bars

and sleazy dance halls.



    

                   

Oh, I...



    

                   

do the occasional

Rotary dinner,



    

                   

state prison dance...



    

                   

where I don't leave my hat.



    

                   

What?



    

                   

That's how the cops

got onto you, Binney.



    

                   

You left your fedora on the bar

when you picked up that whore.



    

                   

Money.



    

                   

Money, money, money.



    

                   

What about it?



    

                   

You got a lot.



    

                   

I do all right.



    

                   

What at, I'm wondering.



    

                   

I buy, I sell.



    

                   

Uh-huh. So does

Second Hand Rose.



    

                   

What do you buy?



    

                   

What do you sell?



    

                   

That's my business.



    

                   

Naked flesh?



    

                   

What?



    

                   

Oh, yeah, that's

what you buy,



    

                   

that's what you sell.



    

                   

That's ridiculous.



    

                   

I deal in antiques,

if you must know.



    

                   

The only antiques are some of

the distinguished gentlemen



    

                   

you service with

young girls, Binney.



    

                   

Are you calling me a...?



    

                   

A pimp? Why, yes, you

don't mind, do you?



    

                   

You're a fantasist,

Dark.



    

                   

Get out.



    

                   

Don't let me see you again.



    

                   

What about my fee?



    

                   

Fee? What fee?



    

                   

It took me five days

between my syncopations



    

                   

to figure out that you set up

that poor girl, Nina.



    

                   

Why? I said to myself, "Why?"



    

                   

Just get out.



    

                   

You know what I think?



    

                   

I think she was

killed right here



    

                   

in this museum.



    

                   

You're crazy.



    

                   

But it's not the cops

you're scared of, Binney.



    

                   

They can be bought and sold,

too.



    

                   

Put it back in the drawer,

will you?



    

                   

- What?

- Put it back in the drawer,



    

                   

unless you want a hole

between your eyes



    

                   

that the wind from your ass

can whistle through.



    

                   

You really are crazy.



    

                   

Out of your cheap little mind.



    

                   

Sure. But do it.



    

                   

I've been shot at once tonight,



    

                   

and that's once too often.



    

                   

Okay, okay.



    

                   

This Nina... she wasn't

one of your commodities.



    

                   

- But her friend was.

- What friend?



    

                   

That girl they scraped up

under the Hollywood sign.



    

                   

The cops say she jumped.



    

                   

But your pals...



    

                   

What pals?



    

                   

Your pals thought



    

                   

she might have passed

something on to Nina,



    

                   

and they were taking no chances.



    

                   

Not with her, not with you.



    

                   

Am I right, or am I right?



    

                   

And now they want me, too,



    

                   

you slimy slug.



    

                   

Go on.



    

                   

Go on.

I enjoy cheap fiction.



    

                   

Me? Nah.



    

                   

I'm no longer in your employ.



    

                   

Fee? What fee?



    

                   

You hired me



    

                   

to find out

what happened to Nina



    

                   

when you already knew.



    

                   

Why? I'll figure it out. And...



    

                   

And?



    

                   

I sing for people

who dance, Binney.



    

                   

Name your tune,

I'll warble it for you,



    

                   

but when you dance...



    

                   

your feet

won't be touching the floor.



    

                   

Oh, you're cheap, Dark.



    

                   

Ten cents a dance.



    

                   

Mr. Dark?



    

                   

That's my handle.



    

                   

I was born at daybreak.



    

                   

Please, I want to talk.



    

                   

You followed me



    

                   

to make sure I wasn't followed,

but I was.



    

                   

Stay back. Keep

out of sight.



    

                   

Meet me at The Laguna

in a half an hour.



    

                   

Little fool.



    

                   

I warned you.



    

                   

I told you, baby.



    

                   

Ah, gee.



    

                   

Silly... poor little thing.



    

                   

Parlow.



    

                   

What?



    

                   

You mean,

the Parlow Atomic Laboratory...



    

                   

here in L.A.?



    

                   

Binney...



    

                   

Mark Binney.



    

                   

He's providing all the girls.



    

                   

Right? Girls like you...



    

                   

like Nina.



    

                   

The Reds.



    

                   

They're getting

to the atomic scientists...



    

                   

Yes?



    

                   

At Parlow?



    

                   

Using sex.



    

                   

Sex.



    

                   

Sex.



    

                   

Sex.



    

                   

I'll get ya.



    

                   

Bastards.



    

                   

Whoever you are,

and whatever you are...



    

                   

wherever you are.



    

                   

You're buffeted by this...



    

                   

by that, and it's nothing

to do with you.



    

                   

You know,

someone you love dies or leaves.



    

                   

Then you get ill,

or you get better,



    

                   

and the whole time, everywhere,



    

                   

there's just this canopy

stretching out over you...



    

                   

What canopy?



    

                   

Fate... things as they are.



    

                   

It's irrational,

impersonal.



    

                   

The rain falls,

the sun shines, the wind blows,



    

                   

and if you're out there in it,

that's it.



    

                   

Things.



    

                   

Accident.



    

                   

Call it what you like.



    

                   

There's damn all

you can do about it.



    

                   

Well, physically,

you're on the up.



    

                   

Well...



    

                   

Now we have a firm

grasp of the obvious.



    

                   

Why do you still feel

so disappointed



    

                   

in things as they are?



    

                   

Things as they are...



    

                   

no concern of mine.



    

                   

You object to the use

of the word "things"?



    

                   

Oh, there's a lot of words

I don't like.



    

                   

Such as?



    

                   

Decaffeinated.



    

                   

Hmm.



    

                   

Another?



    

                   

Oh, good, good, good.

Indoor games.



    

                   

Yeah.



    

                   

- Word games?

- Yeah, sure.



    

                   

I throw you a word, you...



    

                   

I come back with

another word.



    

                   

Yeah, that you associate

with the word that I...



    

                   

Okay, wait-wait-wait-wait, yeah,

but we got to... agree...



    

                   

in advance

that it's meaningless.



    

                   

Please, there's no diagnostic

value for any of it.



    

                   

Fine.



    

                   

Judge.



    

                   

Oh, skin.



    

                   

Scales.



    

                   

Weight.



    

                   

Tables.



    

                   

Restaurant.



    

                   

Gastroenteritis.



    

                   

Honey.



    

                   

Comb.



    

                   

Blonde.



    

                   

Honey.



    

                   

Money.



    

                   

Shit.



    

                   

You.



    

                   

Me?



    

                   

Me.



    

                   

Tarzan.



    

                   

Jungle.



    

                   

Manhattan.



    

                   

- Mugger.

- Baghdad.



    

                   

Arms.



    

                   

- Hands.

- Clap.



    

                   

Promiscuity.



    

                   

- Free.

- Gift.



    

                   

Giver.



    

                   

- Sucker.

- Mouth.



    

                   

Fangs.



    

                   

Wolf.



    

                   

Whistle.



    

                   

- Scream.

- Silence.



    

                   

Young.



    

                   

Green.



    

                   

Old.



    

                   

Mm... Mick Jagger.



    

                   

Rock.



    

                   

Cradle.



    

                   

- Crash.

- Dream.



    

                   

Wake.



    

                   

Sleep.



    

                   

Lie.



    

                   

Tale.



    

                   

- Writer.

- Liar.



    

                   

Sentence.



    

                   

Prison.



    

                   

Cage.



    

                   

Barn.



    

                   

Mother.



    

                   

M... murder.



    

                   

Love.



    

                   

Fraud.



    

                   

Passion.



    

                   

Pretense.



    

                   

Woman.



    

                   

Fuck!



    

                   

Fuck.



    

                   

Dirt!



    

                   

Dirt.



    

                   

Death!



    

                   

Start.



    

                   

Stop!



    

                   

Oh, nice game.



    

                   

It's just words, right?



    

                   

That's what we agreed.



    

                   

No diagnostic value.



    

                   

Just words.



    

                   

Important words



    

                   

Ooh, ooh, ooh...



    

                   

That mean a lot



    

                   

Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh...



    

                   

They say... say



    

                   

I love you



    

                   

Ooh, ooh, ooh...



    

                   

Important words



    

                   

Ooh, ooh, ooh...



    

                   

That's all I've got



    

                   

Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh...



    

                   

They say, say



    

                   

I love you...



    

                   

I'll do whatever you want...

okay?



    

                   

You just have

to tell me.



    

                   

The days, the nights



    

                   

The hours



    

                   

We spent makin' plans...



    

                   

- Love.

- Fraud.



    

                   

- Passion.

- Pretense.



    

                   

- Woman.

- Fuck!



    

                   

- Fuck.

- Dirt!



    

                   

- Dirt.

- Death.



    

                   

Since we first held hands



    

                   

lmportant words



    

                   

Ooh, ooh, ooh...



    

                   

They say I love you



    

                   

Mom?



    

                   

Ooh, ooh, ooh...



    

                   

Go back to bed.



    

                   

They say, say



    

                   

Go.



    

                   

I do



    

                   

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh



    

                   

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh,

ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh...



    

                   

Why, Mom, why?



    

                   

Why what?



    

                   

Why are we here?



    

                   

No place else to go.



    

                   

Did Dad make you go?



    

                   

- No, Danny.

- Did he?



    

                   

It wasn't...

it was no good there.



    

                   

And I...

I did something wrong.



    

                   

It's no good here.



    

                   

I didn't think it would

be like this, but...



    

                   

We gotta go back.



    

                   

No.



    

                   

Why not?

Why not?



    

                   

It won't always be like this.



    

                   

- Mom...

- No, I want you to listen.



    

                   

I couldn't get a job...



    

                   

but I will, okay?



    

                   

Mom, you're lying!

Mom...



    

                   

- I promise, I will!

- I want to go home!



    

                   

You stop it!

You stop it!



    

                   

You stop it!



    

                   

Don't pinch me there.



    

                   

That's my sore.



    

                   

Your what?



    

                   

What?



    

                   

Let me see.



    

                   

How did you do that?



    

                   

You hurt yourself or what?



    

                   

I don't know.



    

                   

I'm so sorry.



    

                   

Okay, it's not very legible,

and it hurts, but...



    

                   

First time I actually

have to think



    

                   

about the value

of every little word,



    

                   

and it's just so...



    

                   

Ah, it's dangerous.



    

                   

There's one.



    

                   

Well, it cuts

most of the jobs



    

                   

a writer would get



    

                   

if you have to think

about the value



    

                   

of the words.



    

                   

Hollywood re-writes...

National Enquirer...



    

                   

Dan Rather's teleprompter.



    

                   

Let's see how you're doing.



    

                   

Can you read it?



    

                   

"Memory...



    

                   

upward strokes

and downward slopes..."



    

                   

Mm-hmm.



    

                   

And what's this?



    

                   

"...Comma curls

making me hold..."



    

                   

Yeah, I can read it.



    

                   

- Oh.

- Making you hold what?



    

                   

My breath.



    

                   

Words make me hold my breath.



    

                   

Do they now?



    

                   

Who knows what

they're going to say?



    

                   

But...



    

                   

Who knows where they've been?



    

                   

We're getting

a little heavy here, aren't we?



    

                   

Well, what made you say that,

Brenda?



    

                   

What do you mean?



    

                   

If we wrote that down.



    

                   

Quote, getting a little

heavy, comma,



    

                   

aren't we, question mark,

unquote.



    

                   

If I did...



    

                   

No, it doesn't matter.



    

                   

Ah, well, um...

keep at it!



    

                   

Quote, ah, well, dash,

keep at it, exclamation mark.



    

                   

She smiled, comma,

turned away, dot-dot... dot.



    

                   

Ooh, going off the page.



    

                   

Stop... finished, period.



    

                   

He's dead,



    

                   

period.



    

                   

Out of it, period.



    

                   

That's it.



    

                   

All done.



    

                   

Great.



    

                   

Mmm...



    

                   

I like that.



    

                   

Now Dan Dark's whole script

is in the machine...



    

                   

Minus his name.



    

                   

...we can run off

as many copies as we need,



    

                   

and they can tinker with it

if they want.



    

                   

So now



    

                   

we deliver.



    

                   

And we could.



    

                   

But you must get Dark



    

                   

to sign the rights

to my company.



    

                   

That's essential.



    

                   

Okay. Move forward a little.



    

                   

That better?



    

                   

Yeah.



    

                   

Oh... that's fine.



    

                   

Okay. One...



    

                   

he signs with me.



    

                   

Two...



    

                   

...I sell it on...



    

                   

I-I mean we sell it on

to Mail Pouch Films,



    

                   

and three...



    

                   

net profit...



    

                   

one million.



    

                   

Plus points.



    

                   

Plus points.



    

                   

But he's gotta sign.



    

                   

Don't worry.



    

                   

I can get him...



    

                   

to do... anything!



    

                   

Oh, yeah.



    

                   

Oh, oh, oh... Good girl... Oh...



    

                   

Hello.



    

                   

Hey.



    

                   

Hey. I was just



    

                   

thinking about you.



    

                   

Really?



    

                   

Mm-hmm.



    

                   

What were you

thinking about me?



    

                   

I was thinking

you look terrific.



    

                   

Hmm.



    

                   

So do you.



    

                   

You look better.



    

                   

Don't, Dan.



    

                   

Don't what?



    

                   

Look at me like that.



    

                   

Like what?



    

                   

Like I'm your enemy.



    

                   

Oh, you are definitely

up to something.



    

                   

You are so definitely involved



    

                   

in some kind

of fucking scam.



    

                   

Good old Danny.



    

                   

And it probably has something



    

                   

to do with money... my money.



    

                   

You haven't got any money.



    

                   

No. Not in cash, maybe.



    

                   

Not in good, old-fashioned,

foldable, chewable lettuce.



    

                   

No. Nor in coins, come to that.



    

                   

Nothing to go

chink-chink in my pocket,



    

                   

but I have assets.



    

                   

Like what?



    

                   

My four detective stories.



    

                   

Yeah...



    

                   

Three of which

are out of print.



    

                   

And the screenplay.



    

                   

What screenplay?



    

                   

Bingo!



    

                   

Fucking bingo.



    

                   

Danny, please,

you gotta fill me in.



    

                   

What are you talking about?



    

                   

With my own two hands.



    

                   

With these dead,

buckled, chicken feet!



    

                   

I wrote it six,

seven years ago.



    

                   

Danny.



    

                   

What screenplay is this?



    

                   

"What screenplay?"



    

                   

The Singing Detective,

that's what.



    

                   

Danny.



    

                   

I put it...

I put it in the thing.



    

                   

I put it up

in the shoe boxes,



    

                   

and I put it in the closet.



    

                   

Oh, that.



    

                   

"Oh, that."



    

                   

Oh, my God.



    

                   

Yes, that.



    

                   

Well, wait a minute.



    

                   

If it's the pages

I think you mean,



    

                   

you threw them out. Ages ago.



    

                   

- No.

- Yes.



    

                   

No. I threw them out.



    

                   

- I threw them out.

- Dan, yes, you did.



    

                   

You threw them out.



    

                   

You said it was garbage.



    

                   

What are you doing?



    

                   

Oh, well.



    

                   

Easy come. Easy go.



    

                   

Was it the only copy?



    

                   

Of course.



    

                   

Did I squeeze it?

Did that hurt?



    

                   

My heart, you mean?



    

                   

You are improving, though,

you know?



    

                   

You really...



    

                   

Except I'm going crazy.



    

                   

Hey, now.



    

                   

I'm going crazy.



    

                   

I lie here and make

these connections



    

                   

between my cheap

little detective story



    

                   

and my own cheap little...



    

                   

Oh, to hell with it.



    

                   

Sex.



    

                   

Yeah, I know the word.



    

                   

Yeah, but that's what

the whole thing is about.



    

                   

My book. My life.

It's about sex.



    

                   

Sex and lies.



    

                   

Oh... I want to sleep

with you again.



    

                   

Dan.



    

                   

I do. With a big

mirror alongside.



    

                   

Oh, stop.



    

                   

That's so I can look

over at myself



    

                   

while I'm fucking

and just leer.



    

                   

And right as it's coming up

in me, the ol' joy juice,



    

                   

I flip it over to one side



    

                   

and come off your gleaming

loins, honey, and just



    

                   

spit right in my own face.



    

                   

Oh, my God.



    

                   

Well. It's improvement.



    

                   

What is?



    

                   

Spitting at myself.



    

                   

A couple of days ago my idea of

true bliss would have been...



    

                   

...spitting into your face.



    

                   

- Dan.

- Huh?



    

                   

What are you going

to do about this?



    

                   

- What?

- This rage,



    

                   

this thing you have,

this hatred?



    

                   

What are you going

to do about it?



    

                   

Well, I'll probably just

write serious literature.



    

                   

Just piss in the wind

like poets and priests do.



    

                   

Who are they?



    

                   

Who are those two?

Who are you?!



    

                   

Who is who?



    

                   

Go, go, go and look,

go and look.



    

                   

No. I don't see anything.



    

                   

What is the matter?



    

                   

Paranoia.



    

                   

Thank you.



    

                   

Baby, I'm so paranoid.



    

                   

Then you've got

everything going



    

                   

for you, haven't you?



    

                   

Mm-hmm.



    

                   

I'm telling you, people

are beginning to notice us.



    

                   

You see, they're looking at us.



    

                   

Who cares? They're all

sick in here, anyway.



    

                   

Are you sure that's

him, with the...?



    

                   

The nurse said so.



    

                   

Maybe we should've brought

flowers... or grapes.



    

                   

What for?



    

                   

Less conspicuous.



    

                   

Oh, yeah.



    

                   

What are we going to do?



    

                   

We going to waste

him, whack him, what?



    

                   

Well, not when

that dame's there.



    

                   

We gotta make him sing first.



    

                   

Another fuckin' song?



    

                   

- Shut up.

- Hey.



    

                   

Talk. I mean.



    

                   

Tell us what

we're doing here.



    

                   

I-I'm sick of standing around

like a dummy.



    

                   

Are we Feds

or aren't we?



    

                   

No. We're just

a couple of hoods.



    

                   

- Shut up.

- Hey.



    

                   

Do you need any help?



    

                   

Uh, do we?



    

                   

Uh, thank you, miss. No.



    

                   

Um, we have seen all

that we wish to see,



    

                   

and our report, uh,

will be a-arriving...



    

                   

Let's go.



    

                   

Hey!



    

                   

What are you doing here?



    

                   

Now, when I get the blues,

I get me a rocking chair



    

                   

When I get the blues,

I get me a rocking chair



    

                   

Well, the blues overtake me



    

                   

Gonna rock

right away from here



    

                   

Now flip, flop and fly



    

                   

I don't care if I die



    

                   

Now flip, flop and fly



    

                   

Don't care if I die...



    

                   

Where are you?



    

                   

I'm lost.



    

                   

Lost?



    

                   

Sorry. I'm lost.



    

                   

Huh?



    

                   

I have a confession to make.



    

                   

Uh-huh.



    

                   

I know more about

that movie offer



    

                   

than I implied.



    

                   

Oh, shit. Come clean.



    

                   

Okay, I... I went, um...



    

                   

to your apartment,

just to check it out



    

                   

'cause you've been

in here so long.



    

                   

Mm-hmm.



    

                   

Um...



    

                   

First of all, Dan...



    

                   

Mmm? Mmm.



    

                   

...the way that you live

is unbelievable.



    

                   

The plants?

They're all dead.



    

                   

Good. I hope they suffered.



    

                   

There is mold on every

single living thing.



    

                   

Uh-huh. Give me

some yogurt, please.



    

                   

First of all, who goes away



    

                   

and leaves Camembert

on the table?



    

                   

You opened my mail.



    

                   

Yes. I did,

but just the bills...



    

                   

You opened my mail.



    

                   

...and this one letter.



    

                   

Don't worry about the bills.



    

                   

That's where I grow the mold.



    

                   

- Anyway.

- From who?



    

                   

...this production company.



    

                   

It's about Singing Detective.



    

                   

Well, yes, it's from



    

                   

this producer, Finney.



    

                   

Okay.



    

                   

Binney?



    

                   

Finney.



    

                   

- Finney with an "F"?

- Yes.



    

                   

Finney with an "F," not a "B"?



    

                   

- Right. Finney.

- Finney. Not a "B."



    

                   

- 'Cause you know him.

- What are you...? What?



    

                   

You know him.



    

                   

I've never heard of him.



    

                   

In what context have

you never heard of him?



    

                   

- Danny.

- What?



    

                   

- Why are you so...?

- Where's the letter?



    

                   

- Where's the letter?

- I'll get it.



    

                   

Where's the letter?



    

                   

It checks out?



    

                   

Well, for what it's worth.



    

                   

But would I get

some dough up front?



    

                   

So it says.



    

                   

How much?



    

                   

   grand.



    

                   

Ugh. Shit.



    

                   

- But that's for the rights?

- Right.



    

                   

Well, who's going to do

the screenplay?



    

                   

Maybe I can get a shot at it.



    

                   

Well, the producer,

Finney, apparently.



    

                   

The producer.

Why? Why? All these...



    

                   

guys, they think

they can write,



    

                   

every busy little schmuck



    

                   

who can hold a pen

the right way up.



    

                   

I know, so we just take

the money and run.



    

                   

Oh, I... I...



    

                   

Okay.



    

                   

It's a good story, though.



    

                   

Mm-hmm.



    

                   

If it'd stay on the page.



    

                   

Mm-hmm.



    

                   

It's all connections.



    

                   

Connections.



    

                   

Connections.



    

                   

Oh, God.



    

                   

Oh... oh,

we shouldn't have run.



    

                   

No choice.



    

                   

Where the fuck is this?



    

                   

Why here?



    

                   

What are we doing here?



    

                   

Geez. Look at that sun.



    

                   

That is the sun, right?



    

                   

It's a big fucking moon

if it isn't.



    

                   

What is going on?



    

                   

What's going on?



    

                   

What are we gonna do?



    

                   

Hey.



    

                   

There's a building over

there... way over there.



    

                   

"Chew Mail Pouch Tobacco."



    

                   

Oh, no, I hate that stuff.



    

                   

It gets in my throat and my...



    

                   

Maybe what we're looking

for is in that building.



    

                   

Oh, yeah, yeah.



    

                   

What are we looking for?



    

                   

I don't know.



    

                   

Nor me...



    

                   

Nor me.



    

                   

People see us everywhere



    

                   

They think you really care



    

                   

But myself I can't deceive



    

                   

I know it's

only make believe



    

                   

Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba,

ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-bah, oh...



    

                   

My one and only prayer

is that some day you'll care



    

                   

My hopes,

my dreams come true



    

                   

My one and only you



    

                   

No one will ever know

how much I love you so



    

                   

My only prayer will be

someday you'll care for me



    

                   

But it's only make-believe...



    

                   

Hey, son.



    

                   

Tough guys don't cry.



    

                   

I know that, sir.



    

                   

I can't now separate in my mind



    

                   

the bus that took my mom and me

to L.A.



    

                   

From the one

which brought us back.



    

                   

Brought me back.



    

                   

I dream about it.



    

                   

I still dream about it.



    

                   

But I'm getting there.



    

                   

My head's getting there.



    

                   

Well...



    

                   

What happened to your mother?



    

                   

She killed herself.



    

                   

How?



    

                   

In the river.



    

                   

In the river.



    

                   

Uh... is-is that really

what happened?



    

                   

What?



    

                   

Well, now, now, I...



    

                   

"Now, now"? Wait, wait.

No. Excuse me. What?



    

                   

You have a young woman

drowned in a bathtub



    

                   

and thrown in the river

in your story.



    

                   

So, what about it?

So, what about it?



    

                   

Sometimes a cigar

is just a cigar.



    

                   

Uh-huh.



    

                   

Well, I'm a bit surprised

that you would duplicate



    

                   

such a traumatic event

in your own life in the pages...



    

                   

In what? Oh, oh, in a

commercial piece of trash?



    

                   

I didn't say that.



    

                   

No, you didn't say that.



    

                   

Mm-hmm.



    

                   

No, Dan, I read you

part of your book



    

                   

to illustrate a point to you.



    

                   

Book. I'll tell you,

that book... that book...



    

                   

There are things

in that book, Doc,



    

                   

that are reaching out

to grab me by the throat.



    

                   

Why don't you let them?



    

                   

Why? What?



    

                   

Let 'em.



    

                   

Me, I'm in that book,

and I didn't even know it.



    

                   

Yes.



    

                   

I didn't kill my mother.



    

                   

I can't imagine that anyone

would ever suggest that you did.



    

                   

You know, I... when

I was a... a... boy...



    

                   

Long ago and far away.



    

                   

No. Here and now.



    

                   

I saw my mother

with the greaseball



    

                   

who worked with my father...

like, a partner...



    

                   

...in this service station

in the desert



    

                   

that was never really viable.



    

                   

Dark and Binney.



    

                   

Shit, they were screwing,

you know?



    

                   

The noises,

him on top of her, I guess.



    

                   

Kiss, bang, bang...

all that stuff.



    

                   

I don't know.



    

                   

Maybe she would have

gotten away with it.



    

                   

Maybe it was just...



    

                   

My dad was a hard

sort of guy to talk to.



    

                   

You know, he was good,



    

                   

you know, but, as a kid,



    

                   

I couldn't seem to get close.



    

                   

He was good with engines,

you know?



    

                   

Anything under the hood,

and he was just...



    

                   

He was so quiet. He was just...

he was just too quiet.



    

                   

And I wanted to get closer,

you know?



    

                   

I mean, maybe I wasn't the kind

of kid he would have wanted,



    

                   

you know?



    

                   

Reading,

and off on my own and...



    

                   

...locked in.



    

                   

That pain-in-the-ass kid stuff,

but...



    

                   

I wanted to get closer,

and I... I...



    

                   

So you told him about her.



    

                   

Well, I traded her in.



    

                   

I traded her in

for a pat on the head.



    

                   

No. No.



    

                   

I got beat instead,

and so did she.



    

                   

He just hit her from one side

of the room to the other.



    

                   

And we went...



    

                   

to L.A.



    

                   

You know, but by then



    

                   

I think my pa's rage

had-had-had cooled down.



    

                   

I don't think

he wanted us to go,



    

                   

'cause I remember him waving.



    

                   

I remember him waving to us

as the bus went away.



    

                   

Away.



    

                   

And I...



    

                   

And my mom couldn't get a job.



    

                   

It was just, you know...



    

                   

She started

bringing men home and...



    

                   

Oh, the poor bitch.



    

                   

I remember these cracks.



    

                   

There were these cracks

on the ceiling.



    

                   

I remember these cracks.



    

                   

All right.



    

                   

Stand up.



    

                   

What?



    

                   

You can. You can do it.



    

                   

Oh, you think so?



    

                   

It's now or never.



    

                   

Yes. Yes. Yes.



    

                   

How many steps to heaven, Doc?



    

                   

Ah, metaphysics.



    

                   

Music.



    

                   

Try again. Take your time.



    

                   

I'm sorry. How many steps?



    

                   

- Now, there

- Three steps to heaven



    

                   

- Are three steps to heaven

- Three steps to heaven



    

                   

- Just listen

- Three steps to heaven



    

                   

- And you will plainly see

- Three steps to heaven



    

                   

And as life travels on



    

                   

And things do go wrong



    

                   

- Just follow

- Three steps to heaven



    

                   

- Steps one, two and three

- Three steps to heaven



    

                   

Step one



    

                   

You find a girl you love



    

                   

Step two



    

                   

She falls in love with you



    

                   

Step three, you kiss



    

                   

And hold her tightly



    

                   

- Yeah, that sure

- Three steps to heaven



    

                   

- Seems like heaven to me

- Three steps to heaven



    

                   

- The formula for heaven's

- Three steps to heaven



    

                   

- Very simple

- Three steps to heaven



    

                   

Ooh, wa-wa, ooh



    

                   

Just follow the rules



    

                   

Three steps to heaven,

Three steps to heaven



    

                   

- And you will see

- Ooh



    

                   

And as life travels on



    

                   

And things do go wrong



    

                   

- Just follow

- Three steps to heaven



    

                   

- Steps one, two and three

- Three steps to heaven



    

                   

Step one



    

                   

- You find a girl you love

- Ah, ah-ah



    

                   

- Step two...

- No, no.



    

                   

She falls in love with you...



    

                   

Ah, yes.



    

                   

Huh?



    

                   

Hey, that's great, man.



    

                   

Hey, can I get an amen, brother?



    

                   

Yeah, amen, whatever.



    

                   

One, two, three.



    

                   

No, no, no. Leave me, leave me.



    

                   

I got it, I got it.



    

                   

Yee-hah!



    

                   

Geronimo.



    

                   

That book. There were things

in that book, Doc,



    

                   

that are reaching out

to grab me by the throat.



    

                   

Why don't you let them?



    

                   

Sorry you got put on hold,

Mr. Binney.



    

                   

Don't sweat the bill.



    

                   

So now we wait.



    

                   

We wait, and we see.



    

                   

You had it coming, baby.



    

                   

They should have

cut your dick off first.



    

                   

It's led you into

one hell of a fix, eh?



    

                   

Mmm, mmm, mmm.



    

                   

They got to him first.



    

                   

Yeah.

One step ahead all the time.



    

                   

But I didn't think the Feds

would waste one of their own,



    

                   

but there you go.



    

                   

No morality these days, eh?



    

                   

I know, but I wanted

to waste him on my own.



    

                   

Well, why not?



    

                   

I'd like to wash

all the men off my skin.



    

                   

No, we'll give these klutzes

one more chance



    

                   

to eliminate the warbler.



    

                   

He's a sitting duck.



    

                   

I'd like to see the bullet

splatter his larynx.



    

                   

Dan Dark is the real killer.



    

                   

He poisons other people's lives.



    

                   

He thinks he's smart...



    

                   

but, really,

he's very, very sad.



    

                   

I'm sorry.



    

                   

I'm sorry.



    

                   

Can you see?



    

                   

Can you see, Mr. Dark?



    

                   

You like?



    

                   

This is what you want

from a woman, Dan.



    

                   

Believe her to be a whore.



    

                   

Make her one.



    

                   

You like?



    

                   

You want?



    

                   

You're so sad.



    

                   

Sad... and sick.



    

                   

Using your childhood



    

                   

to foul up the lives of those

who really care for you.



    

                   

Using your illness as a weapon

against anything clean,



    

                   

and honest and loving.



    

                   

You disgust me.



    

                   

You sick little creep.



    

                   

You poisonous, malformed,



    

                   

cynical heap of shit.



    

                   

No!



    

                   

No...



    

                   

Are you okay?



    

                   

Yeah.



    

                   

Okay, sure.



    

                   

Why not?



    

                   

Why aren't you in the bed?



    

                   

I'm not in the bed

because I



    

                   

stood up all by myself.



    

                   

Fantastic.



    

                   

Yeah, see what I can do.



    

                   

I'll be walking out of here

next week.



    

                   

Well, don't overdo it.



    

                   

You look...

Are you hot?



    

                   

Mm-mm.



    

                   

Okay, 'cause that's how



    

                   

people get disappointed,

you know?



    

                   

You got to take it easy.



    

                   

No, I'm fine.



    

                   

Day by day, in every way,



    

                   

I'm getting better

and better.



    

                   

All right, well,

I'll let you stand up



    

                   

while I lubricate you.



    

                   

I think I can,

but I just... my knees...



    

                   

No, no.



    

                   

I was just kidding.



    

                   

No, I don't expect you to...



    

                   

I'm just so glad

that you're being...



    

                   

It's a real

improvement.



    

                   

You know, you're one of



    

                   

the nicest people

I've met in a long time.



    

                   

Well, you haven't been anywhere

in a long time.



    

                   

One of the prettiest, too.



    

                   

Oh, your eyes.



    

                   

What about them?



    

                   

Your mouth.



    

                   

The way your head

joins your neck,



    

                   

as though

it's hesitating...



    

                   

No, no, no, it's reluctant to...



    

                   

Boy, when I get out of here

I'm just really going to write.



    

                   

The way it, though...



    

                   

No.



    

                   

Oh, you're the girl

in all the songs.



    

                   

Hey, pull the Caddy around,



    

                   

and let's blow out of here.



    

                   

Stop it, Mr. Dark.



    

                   

Oh... oh, I see.



    

                   

Enough of these intimacies, huh?



    

                   

Hell, we hardly know each other.



    

                   

Christ, the only contact



    

                   

we had so far is

you lift up my penis



    

                   

and just grease around it.



    

                   

Oh, what, what's the matter?



    

                   

Whew. Boy, is it hot in here?



    

                   

Lie down, um...



    

                   

You're burning up.



    

                   

Sweet, sweet, sweetness,

I want to see Nicola...



    

                   

- No, no. No, Mr. Dark.

- I want to see...



    

                   

No, no, no, no, no, no.

You got to lay down.



    

                   

I'll find her.



    

                   

She's probably

straight out in the hall.



    

                   

No, no, no, no.

Come on, Mr. Dark, just stay.



    

                   

Come on, come on.



    

                   

Nicola?!



    

                   

Come on, let's just

go back into the bed.



    

                   

Nicola!



    

                   

I told you, come on.



    

                   

Can I get some help here?!



    

                   

I told you.



    

                   

It's okay, nurse.

It's okay.



    

                   

Gentle.



    

                   

Yeah, too heavy for you, angel.



    

                   

Come on, back in the bed.



    

                   

I'm sorry. I am.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.



    

                   

Slide your feet, gumshoe.



    

                   

Beddy bye-byes.



    

                   

One small step

for man,



    

                   

one giant leap...

for a cripple!



    

                   

Who are you,

and what are you doing here?



    

                   

Hey, that's

a good question.



    

                   

Right on the nose,

as I think they say nowadays.



    

                   

Yeah, whenever that is.



    

                   

Am I hot?



    

                   

Is this because I'm hot?



    

                   

I don't know you.



    

                   

I don't know who you are,

or what you want.



    

                   

Disowning us, are you?



    

                   

Nurse?



    

                   

Nurse... where'd she go?



    

                   

She was just here a second ago.



    

                   

- Where are you going?

- Where you going?



    

                   

Home.



    

                   

That's off

the fucking page, creepo.



    

                   

You are going nowhere.



    

                   

What...



    

                   

We get all the shit



    

                   

and no explanations.



    

                   

Just one fuck-up

after another.



    

                   

And you're the scumbag

that wrote it!



    

                   

Wait, wait, wait, no, no!



    

                   

Many a tear has to fall



    

                   

Where-where are we going?



    

                   

Shaddup!



    

                   

But it's all...



    

                   

Where is everybody?



    

                   

Help!



    

                   

- All in the wonderful game

- Where are we going?!



    

                   

That we know as love...



    

                   

Well, you can rock it,

you can roll it



    

                   

Do the stop

and even stroll it



    

                   

- At the hop

- Hop, hop, hop, hop



    

                   

When the record starts...



    

                   

Rewrite!



    

                   

Ooh, long way down, fella.



    

                   

Right, it's a good last page,



    

                   

bucklehand.



    

                   

Splash!



    

                   

Yeah, it's pooper scooper time

now.



    

                   

Yeah, so spill.



    

                   

Who are we?



    

                   

What are we?



    

                   

When, when you smile



    

                   

When you smile at me



    

                   

Well, well, I know



    

                   

Our love will always be...



    

                   

When, when you kiss



    

                   

When you kiss me right



    

                   

I, I don't want



    

                   

To ever say good night



    

                   

When will you be mine?



    

                   

Oh, baby, I need you



    

                   

I want you near me



    

                   

I love you



    

                   

Yes, I do,

and I hope you hear me!



    

                   

You know, personally,



    

                   

I don't want to walk down

no mean corridors.



    

                   

No, sir.



    

                   

But there's just no pay-off

in picking bluebells.



    

                   

Am I right, or am I right?



    

                   

God, listen to that, would you?



    

                   

Can you hear the guy?



    

                   

Anybody'd think his arm

was being twisted.



    

                   

Hell, we've all been in pain,

one time or another.



    

                   

What I say is, when you're

dealing with the devil,



    

                   

praise the Lord...



    

                   

and pass the ammunition.



    

                   

I am not wrong.



    

                   

Neither am I wrong.



    

                   

Oh, geez, the warbler!



    

                   

No fair.



    

                   

Shoot this prick,



    

                   

will you?!



    

                   

Shut up!



    

                   

Don't, please.



    

                   

Please, don't.



    

                   

Shut your pie hole.



    

                   

No, wait. That's murder.



    

                   

You get a load of that?



    

                   

Murder, he says.



    

                   

I call it...



    

                   

pruning.



    

                   

Only one of us is going

to walk out of here.



    

                   

Sweeter than the roses.



    

                   

What, are you kidding me

with this?



    

                   

Ah, shucks.



    

                   

You could say we'd been

partners, him and me.



    

                   

Like Laurel and Hardy

or Donald and lvana.



    

                   

But, heck, this was

one sick pup, from way back.



    

                   

And I reckon I'm man enough

to tie my own shoelaces now.



    

                   

Hey.



    

                   

You got my hat?



    

                   

Have I got your hat?



    

                   

I think I've cracked this case.



    

                   

Yeah, I think you have, but...



    

                   

No buts.



    

                   

Watch my lips.



    

                   

What?



    

                   

In my dreams you told me



    

                   

You really, really care



    

                   

In my dreams you told me



    

                   

It's a love

you want to share



    

                   

So hold me, hold me, hold me



    

                   

And never, ever let me go



    

                   

Wah-wah-wah-wah



    

                   

In my dreams you told me



    

                   

Our love was here to stay



    

                   

In my dreams you told me



    

                   

Forever and a day



    

                   

That you'll love me,

love me, love me



    

                   

And never, ever let me go



    

                   

Wah-wah-wah-wah



    

                   

It seems that dreams

are sometimes make believe



    

                   

But now I know

that they are true



    

                   

For in my dreams

you said you loved me



    

                   

And in reality,

you love me, love me, too



    

                   

Well, my dreams

have come true



    

                   

I'm as happy as can be



    

                   

For I know in my heart



    

                   

You won't

take this love from me...



    

                   

In my dreams you told me



    

                   

That you really, really cared



    

                   

In my dreams you told me



    

                   

It's a love that can't compare



    

                   

So hold me, hold me, hold me



    

                   

And never, ever let me go



    

                   

In my dreams you told me



    

                   

It's a love that can't compare



    

                   

In my dreams you told me



    

                   

It's a love you want to share



    

                   

So hold me, hold me, hold me



    

                   

Never, ever let me go



    

                   

It seems that dreams



    

                   

Are sometimes make-believe



    

                   

But now I know

that they are real



    

                   

For in my dreams

you said you loved me



    

                   

And in reality, you love,

love me, too



    

                   

Now my dreams have come true



    

                   

I'm as happy as can be



    

                   

For I know in my heart



    

                   

You won't take this love

from me



    

                   

Hold me, hold me, hold me



    

                   

And never, ever let me go,

oh, oh, oh



    

                   

Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo



    

                   

Doo, doo, doo, doo,

doo, doo, doo-doo



    

                   

Doo, doo, doo, doo



    

                   

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah



    

                   

It seems that dreams



    

                   

Are sometimes make-believe



    

                   

But now I know

that they are real



    

                   

For in my dreams



    

                   

You said you loved me



    

                   

And in reality, you love,

love me, too



    

                   

Now my dreams have come true



    

                   

I'm as happy as can be



    

                   

For I know in my heart



    

                   

You won't take this love from me



    

                   

So hold me, hold me, hold me



    

                   

Never, ever let me go,

whoa, hoo.









 
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