Original subtitles

An ordinary man, insurance executive, 45 years old, stumbles to his death on a

subway platform in New York City.

Or does he?

Unbeknownst to his wife or child, his brain is rescued from the accident scene

by a secret branch of the United States government and put into the body of an

artificially produced 26 -year -old man who has the strength of Superman, the

speed of Michael Jordan, and the grace of Fred Astaire.

The only catch.

On the penalty of death, he can never let anyone from the past know he is

alive. And that, my friends, is a problem.

For this man is desperately in love with his wife, his daughter, and his former

life.

Previously on Now and Again.

What kind of inconsiderate jackass would ring the bell at this hour?

May I use your bathroom?

He's not moving in, is he?

I don't think so.

No. No.

Aren't you the guy who said that if you ever found out I was reading, you would

make sure that I went blind or crazy or got warts on my hand?

Well, I... I changed my mind.

I can read.

Wow.

Baby, baby, I'm aware of where you go.

Each time you leave my door, I watch you walk down the

street, knowing your other love you need.

But this time before you...

Stop in the name of love before you break

my heart.

Is he gone?

Gone but not forgotten.

We have to talk.

I'm sure he'll figure something out soon.

You've been saying that all week.

Well, Heather, I really don't know what else to do.

He's in this situation because he was doing me a favor.

And I really can't turn him away.

Besides, you have your own room.

He sleeps down here.

Doesn't really have that much impact on you.

What's the matter?

Why are you so upset?

I don't know.

I hate the life I'm living. I hate high school. I hate breakfast. I hate the

stranger that's living in my house.

And...

Everything's ugly.

All of it is ugly. I'm ugly and I hate it.

You asked.

Matt.

Matt, come on.

You know you're not ugly.

I know I'm not ugly. It's just... In my eyes, I see ugly. It's just one of those

days, one of those periods where... Everything I see is ugly and I...

Just want it to be over.

And getting Roger out will make this better?

It wouldn't hurt.

Well, it could hurt me.

You may think of Roger as a buffoon, but he is my friend.

And I really want to be there for him.

It would be ugly of me not to.

So today's your big class trip, huh?

Please, my big class trip.

Then, um, this is... How's your dressing?

What?

This is how I always dress.

Yeah, I know, I know. But it's New York, and it's the museum. It's your class

trip.

So what? It's New York. It's not like there are going to be guards at the city

line. checking out what I'm going to wear. And yeah, it is a museum, a

museum, where everything is old and dead, long dead. So who am I dressing up

for?

Besides, why are you changing the subject?

Oh, you know, sometimes subjects just change.

I'll talk to him about it tonight, okay?

People, we have an intruder.

Checking level two.

Requesting biohazard personnel. We believe we have an intruder.

Once again, this is Mars Unit One requesting biohazard personnel. We

have an intruder.

Mr. White?

Mr. Wiseman, if you stand very still, maybe it will go away.

What are you talking about?

Oh, he found you. Yeah, we're going to talk to the Homeowners Association about

that. That's mysterious, Mr. Wiseman.

This is no joke.

Doc, he's just an itty -bitty mosquito.

Besides, he likes me better than you.

You're free range.

I'm process.

Mr. Wiseman, stop. Don't.

Gotcha.

Kill it.

You wouldn't happen to have these in calf or deer skin, would you?

You're still mad?

Don't you think you're being a little ridiculous?

I mean, I killed a mosquito. A mosquito, for goodness sake.

Is that a religious thing?

Do you want to say a few words over his remains?

Fine. Stay mad. See if I lift a finger the next time you're in peril.

Mr. Wiseman, we have reason to believe a mosquito -borne virus, similar to last

year's West Nile, is beginning to rear its ugly head.

The curious thing is, it's nearly a month before hibernating mosquitoes

hatch.

And not a single live mosquito has turned up in the American Disease

collection traps.

Mosquitoes like the one you squashed usually don't travel more than a mile

their breeding nest.

For that matter, they usually remain in hibernation until late May, early June.

And yet, an airline president was bitten by a mosquito at JFK yesterday.

A CFO of a major brokerage house was bitten by one in the financial district

just last week.

A media mogul received a bite outside Westchester County last weekend.

They all had to be hospitalized.

They all remain in critical near -death condition.

That's why I have to analyze what's left on your hands.

That's why we're going to the hospital.

And that's why your hands are wrapped that way.

Wow.

Can I ask you one more question?

What's that?

Would you scratch my nose?

Oh, come on, man. I'd do it for you.

Well, let's split into two groups, one on each side of the display cases.

What?

What's the deal?

First you snubbed me on the bus, and now you're staring me down. What's going

on? Kathy's Vicky said she saw Craig driving you home two weeks ago.

You haven't gone out with him in like six months.

He still likes me though. People keep the lines moving.

By the way, you said you kiss like a fish.

people. We are not here to socialize. We're here to thoughtfully observe.

So keep it moving.

Keep it moving.

Um, Jacob, what do I do with this? Oh, how pretty.

My husband brought a pet.

It must have gotten loose from the vivarium exhibit.

I'll take it over there for you. Heather, I'll take it. I believe it's

the east wing.

Sure.

Okay. And be careful with that. It's museum property.

Come on.

Go.

We're closed.

Oh, well, I wanted to bring you this.

I found him. Actually, he found me. But, you know, I wanted to get him back

home.

Thank you.

No one ever brings them back.

They steal them.

Step on them.

Cut them in half.

No one ever brings them back.

You like

this

place? It's really beautiful.

It's the air -controlled environment. Some people experience euphoria from the

oxygen.

Okay.

Yeah, really nice.

Hold up your arm.

It's just glucose and water.

They have special receptors on their secondary legs.

They basically taste and eat with their feet.

My name is Bing, by the way.

Hi, I'm Heather.

Are you here with one of the schools?

I really should be going now.

Well, maybe you can come back sometime by yourself.

I don't know.

Maybe.

Yeah.

Heather.

Thank you.

How'd you get out?

See her?

She's a nice one, isn't she?

I guess they actually do have a nice one.

Come on, let's get you back home.

Gosh, I love reading the paper.

Hey, Doc, give me a six -letter word for inadvertent.

Six letters, gee, I don't know.

Accidental, unintentional, but those are longer, more than six letters.

I got it.

Boo -boo.

B -O -O, B -O -O.

You know, when you do something you didn't mean to do, it's a boo -boo,

Man, don't feel bad. You would have figured it out in a minute.

Yes.

Oh, now that's too bad.

Well, something's bound to show up in the trap soon.

Yes, please, keep me posted.

That was the American Disease Center lab.

That mosquito from your hand?

Nothing unusual.

Too bad.

Here we go.

You want to know what's going on with those bugs?

It's all right here in this newspaper.

The key to the entire shebang.

Really? Absolutely.

Turns out this whole thing is a white -collar cholera.

Pardon me?

Yeah, that's what they're calling it in the paper here. The white -collar

cholera, because it seems that these guys that were struck down, and they

all guys, also had white -collar jobs.

Let me see that.

Oh, okay.

Now, this is an excellent example.

of someone who has all the facts right, but nonetheless drawing a completely

illogical conclusion.

What are you talking about? The facts are the facts.

They were all guys and they all had big jobs.

That's merely a coincidence.

Sorry, I don't believe in coincidence. I worked in the insurance business.

Insects have absolutely no facility for determining if the person they're about

to bite or sting is rich or poor.

I mean, it's not as if they check your tax returns just before they attack.

I mean, a story like that is absurd.

In fact, it's worse than absurd. It's irresponsible.

I think you're just jealous because my paper has better pictures than yours,

to mention comics.

A story like that might induce women or the poor or the simple working man to

let down their guard.

Give me back that paper.

What? Now, the victim they write about here, in town for a convention, stung by

a bee, and stumbled down an escalator.

Now, obviously, the bee didn't kill him. The fall did. Not to mention the fact

that the other deaths were from mosquitoes.

Now, what's he suggesting?

That these two very different species got together at this big bug rally and

decided to wipe out powerful men?

It's a cool idea.

It's a human idea.

Born in the mind of a writer.

And a bad one.

Miss?

Can I help you?

Yeah, um... I'm looking for that man, Bing. He was up here yesterday.

Why don't you check down in the basement?

A lot of the time he does work down there.

You didn't find another New Zealand orange, did you?

Hi.

You looking for me?

Early lunch.

Glucose and water.

Shouldn't you be in school?

Yeah, but, um, you said I could come back, and I called them sick, kind of,

if you want me to leave, I can just go.

I don't know what it is, but I love these guys.

Everybody does.

Butterflies are about infinite possibilities.

Infinite beauty.

They start off life so plainly, but end it in such a blaze of glory.

Ever since I left yesterday, I just... I can't get them out of my head.

Have you ever thought about just...

Letting them go.

Oh, sure.

All the time.

Thing is, they probably stand a better chance of survival in here.

Really? I would have thought that... They die out there.

Butterflies feed on corn.

They need corn pollen to survive.

Reproduce.

Other bugs do, too.

But these big conglomerates, these produce giants that have taken over

family farms...

They grow transgenic corn, corn that's been genetically altered to be bug

-proof.

So the butterflies eat the corn, destroys their digestive tracts,

reproductive systems, destroys their future.

God, how awful.

Yeah, but it's a small price to pay for aesthetically pleasing corn.

So it really brought you back here.

It's drawn back.

Just couldn't stay away?

Are you making fun of me? I told you I couldn't get this stuff out of my head,

and I just had to. I understand.

You know, the Tunisian beetle can wander over an eighth of a mile, bite a chunk

from a carcass of an animal, and still find its way back to a nest less than

millimeter in diameter.

It's called dead reckoning.

I'd like to believe that they don't think or feel.

We'd like to believe that they simply react.

Makes it easier to step on.

Of course, we're wrong.

All living things are related to each other.

Not in a chain, but in a bush.

Kind of a swarm.

We need each other.

And the bugs understand that.

People that don't.

Dr. Bang.

They said I could find you down here.

Mr. Shipman.

Speak of the devil.

Heather, this is Mr. Shipman.

His company grows the peas, carrots, and corn we eat every day.

They also pay to support our work here at the museum.

Well, perhaps you'd better go.

Yeah. Will you come back, though? I've got more to show you.

Sure. Can't say I have a choice.

Dead reckoning and all.

Dead reckoning and all.

Do you see a fool tattooed across my forehead?

Can I offer you something to drink, Mr. Shipman?

I'm not financing your bug research, so you could put out reports like this.

Reports like what?

All that report says... All it says is that we're destroying the planet, Dr.

Bing. All it says is that the chemicals and techniques we use to keep the bugs

off our crops are changing the balance of nature. All it says is that if we

don't... Come on, come on, you know what it says.

That's the truth, Mr. Shipman.

Your truth, Dr. Bing. And just who do you think you are anyway, the mayor of

Bugtown? You're speculating about things that might happen. Might.

And while you're speculating, I'm feeding millions of people a year, Dr.

Year -round, winter, summer, you know, that's an honorable business to be in,

Dr. Bing.

Really? Yeah, damn right more honorable than this speculative fiction you're

trying to pass off as science.

You're entitled to your opinion.

You're damn right I am.

And I'm also entitled to withdraw my support from anyone who chooses to do me

harm. So, as of now, consider your research finished, consider your work

and consider your plan for the new wing you wanted very badly canceled.

Haven't you ever heard the expression about biting the hand of the produce

that feeds you?

Good day, Dr. Bing.

The day's not over, Mr. Shipman.

Goldberg and Rogelio.

Lisa, line four.

This is Lisa Wiseman.

Oh, hello, Mrs. Wiseman.

This is the school nurse.

Excuse me for calling you at work like this, but I was checking in on Heather.

How is she feeling?

Excuse me?

Your daughter, Heather. We just wanted to see how she was feeling.

Oh, but she's fine, I guess. Why?

Well, I don't know. That's why I called. You phoned the administration office

this morning and told them Heather was running a fever?

Didn't you?

Dr.

Morris, I'm Councilman Rivers.

Appreciate you joining us today.

Not a problem.

The Pentagon wants the city of New York to know that we're here to do whatever

we can.

This is my associate, Mr. Newman.

Terrific. You have some experience in these matters?

I've swatted a bug or two in my time.

As you know, over the course of the past 10 days, almost 100 New Yorkers have

lost their lives in insect attacks.

The CEO of a company that manufactures insecticide was bitten by a mosquito as

he ate his appetizer the other night on the Upper East Side and was dead before

his entree was served.

A member of the board of directors of a chain of bait and tackle shops was

visited in his sleep by a family of night crawlers that took up residence in

small intestine.

Needless to say, he never woke up.

And finally, our own head of public health had the grievous misfortune, only

hours after ordering a spring of malathion to encounter a scorpion during

moment of reflection between meetings.

The mayor has asked me to assemble all of your great minds in one room in the

hopes that collectively we might be able to figure out just what it is that we

are dealing with here.

The traps... that are maintained by the American Disease Center have not yielded

a single insect of any kind that is relevant to this investigation.

Furthermore, many of the insects that are involved in these attacks are not

native to this region, and many of them are out of season.

Quite honestly, ladies and gentlemen, we're baffled.

Doesn't everything you just said suggest that what we're dealing with here is

not a natural phenomenon?

The precision of the attacks, the specificity of the victims, these are

human traits.

How it's being done, why it's being done, those are the puzzles.

But I'll bet my reputation that it's being done by a someone, not a

It would be helpful if we could analyze one of these attacking insects.

Perhaps that would yield some understanding as to how all of this is

work. At the very least, it might give us some clues as to who's doing this.

Fine. All we need to do is catch one of the bugs. But how do you propose we do

that?

First, we have to know where they are going to be. Then we have to find

something fast enough, agile enough, to catch something that is able to fly, or

walk up walls, or crawl through a crack the size of a needle.

I might know someone who could do that.

All right, let's suppose you did. Just how would you manage to get one of these

bugs to come to you so you can catch it?

Yeah.

How do you propose to do that?

Well, I don't know.

It doesn't seem that difficult.

I mean, if you want someone to attack, all you usually need to do is declare

war.

This is what a deputy mayor's office looks like, huh?

Make yourself comfortable.

You might be here for a while.

And exactly what is it we're expecting this afternoon?

Crawling things, flying things, hopping things?

I can't be sure. But whatever it is, this time, you must use great care not

destroy it or injure it in any way.

Hey, I made one little mistake.

Dr. Morris, this just hit the street.

Oh, good.

And we have the deputy mayor safely tucked away somewhere?

Nug has a... We have him.

I'll be in the truck.

Happy hunting.

I never told you this, but the longest time

after you were born, I thought that you...

My little girl, my little baby was just perfect.

The most perfect child.

You had the disposition of a saint. And even when you cried, it was a sweet cry.

Never shrill.

Mom, you were so sweet.

So perfect.

Then, one Saturday, your dad and I

went to a wedding, and I left you with Miss Gillis at the end of the block.

When I came back, I walked into the kitchen, and I thought that my new

dishwasher door was dented.

I asked Miss Gillis what happened, and she told me, you kicked it.

She told me that you wanted a cookie, and when she said no, you kicked the

dishwasher.

And that is when I realized that you weren't perfect.

I was shocked.

Stupid.

Shocked.

And that's how I felt when the school nurse called me today at work and said

that you hadn't been at school for three days.

Stupid.

Shocked.

So where were you?

The city.

New York City?

By yourself?

Okay, I'm just going to need a little minute here.

I always thought that if you did something crazy like that, that I would

somehow, that I would sense it.

Clearly, I was wrong.

So...

What were you doing all day for three days in New York City?

I went to the museum.

Right. And after that, you stopped in at the library.

Too bad. You thought you had to be home by 4 o 'clock or you could have stopped

off at the children's ward to volunteer.

I went to the museum. I went back to the butterfly exhibit.

That's where I went.

Fine. Fine, that's where you were. It doesn't even matter that that's where

were. What matters is that you deceived me that you lied to me.

You lied to your school. You called up and told them that you were me.

Totally trashed your schoolwork and your grades for the better part of a week.

Man, you thought your life was ugly before.

Forget about going out.

For Friday and Saturday nights for the rest of the year.

Right. Forget about borrowing the car.

I figured.

And the phone in your room?

A memory.

Okay. Okay.

That's it.

That's all you have to say?

There's nothing else you want to say?

Like what?

Like your...

I'm sorry.

I made you upset.

And I'm sorry that I lied to you.

But I'm not sorry I went.

Right.

Now, before I rip it out, get on the phone and call the school.

Find out about the work that you missed for the last three days.

And sit down and do it.

Oh, hey, buggy.

Buggy, buggy, buggy, buggy.

You in here, pal?

Mr. Wiseman.

Who are you talking to?

Uh, just trying to see if I can move things along.

Won't happen again.

Okay, buddy boy.

This is it.

Time.

Time to get off the fence. Time to just do something.

Okay, Rog.

If the next car that drives by is a red car, then you've got to just strap on

the old feed bag and eat some crow.

That's right.

If the next car is red, then you're dragging your sorry butt home and saying

whatever it takes to put things back the way they were.

That's right.

Enough's enough.

The next car is a red car, then you know what you got to do.

This is why God invented flowers and jewelry and liquor

cabinets and cigarettes.

Purple, definitely purple.

Mr. Wiseman, what is that sound?

Mr. Wiseman?

That is the sound of vigilance.

The sound of my eagle eyes continuously scanning the room.

That's the sound of...

Company. Well, what do you mean, company?

I mean, it's showtime.

That's right.

Just relax.

Nobody's going to try and catch you.

You just stay right over there doing your bee thing. And I'll just stay right

over here doing my Michael thing.

working up the beam at the wiser do you still have no contact oh

no gotta go doc

Give me a