All language subtitles for Body.Parts.1991.BluRay.jirienazka

af Afrikaans
ak Akan
sq Albanian
am Amharic
ar Arabic
hy Armenian
az Azerbaijani
eu Basque
be Belarusian
bem Bemba
bn Bengali
bh Bihari
bs Bosnian
br Breton
bg Bulgarian
km Cambodian
ca Catalan
ceb Cebuano
chr Cherokee
ny Chichewa
zh-CN Chinese (Simplified)
zh-TW Chinese (Traditional)
co Corsican
hr Croatian
cs Czech
da Danish
nl Dutch
eo Esperanto
et Estonian
ee Ewe
fo Faroese
tl Filipino
fi Finnish
fy Frisian
gaa Ga
gl Galician
ka Georgian
de German
gn Guarani
gu Gujarati
ht Haitian Creole
ha Hausa
haw Hawaiian
iw Hebrew
hi Hindi
hmn Hmong
hu Hungarian
is Icelandic
ig Igbo
ia Interlingua
ga Irish
ja Japanese
jw Javanese
kn Kannada
kk Kazakh
rw Kinyarwanda
rn Kirundi
kg Kongo
ko Korean
kri Krio (Sierra Leone)
ku Kurdish
ckb Kurdish (Soranรฎ)
ky Kyrgyz
lo Laothian
la Latin
lv Latvian
ln Lingala
lt Lithuanian
loz Lozi
lg Luganda
ach Luo
lb Luxembourgish
mk Macedonian
mg Malagasy
ms Malay
ml Malayalam
mt Maltese
mi Maori
mr Marathi
mfe Mauritian Creole
mo Moldavian
mn Mongolian
my Myanmar (Burmese)
sr-ME Montenegrin
ne Nepali
pcm Nigerian Pidgin
nso Northern Sotho
no Norwegian
nn Norwegian (Nynorsk)
oc Occitan
or Oriya
om Oromo
ps Pashto
fa Persian
pl Polish
pt-BR Portuguese (Brazil) Download
pt Portuguese (Portugal)
pa Punjabi
qu Quechua
ro Romanian
rm Romansh
nyn Runyakitara
ru Russian
sm Samoan
gd Scots Gaelic
sr Serbian
sh Serbo-Croatian
st Sesotho
tn Setswana
crs Seychellois Creole
sn Shona
sd Sindhi
si Sinhalese
sk Slovak
sl Slovenian
so Somali
es-419 Spanish (Latin American)
su Sundanese
sw Swahili
sv Swedish
tg Tajik
ta Tamil
tt Tatar
te Telugu
th Thai
ti Tigrinya
to Tonga
lua Tshiluba
tum Tumbuka
tr Turkish
tk Turkmen
tw Twi
ug Uighur
uk Ukrainian
ur Urdu
uz Uzbek
vi Vietnamese
cy Welsh
wo Wolof
xh Xhosa
yi Yiddish
yo Yoruba
zu Zulu

Original subtitles

So, what happened this morning, Ray?

I don't fucking know, man.

It just come over me,

like something unstoppable, you know?

Next thing,

I'm on top of him with a fucking shiv,

and there's blood all over the place.

All over the place, fucking, you know

pumping up six feet in the air

from his throat, right?

So how does this make you feel, Ray?

Taking someone else's life.

How does this make you feel about yourself?

How do you feel?

How do you, how?

What do you mean?

I feel, I feel, I feel great.

I fucking feel fantastic.

How should I feel, man?

I'm the one's gonna be alive

come morning, not that son of a bitch.

Hey, yeah.

How you feel?

How do you feel, doc?

You feel okay?

Hmm?

You're sitting there looking at me

like I'm some kind of fucking head case.

You think I like that?

Hey!

I don't like it.

You think I like that I'm gonna spend

the rest of my life in this fucking shithole?

If I'm lucky enough not to fry first?

The truth is, doc, I am massively fucked.

Okay?

And you sitting there with your,

your little fucking prissy tape recorder

and your questions.

No way, you do me not one ounce

of fucking good, man.

Am I wrong?

Can you help me?

Can you, you know,

can you help me?

Can you fucking do something?

Like rewire me so I start doing

the right fucking thing?

No!

I don't think so!

You're worthless, man.

You got no moves.

What are you gonna do?

Do it.

Go ahead, fix me.

I'm here, I'm here.

Fix me, goddamn it!

Read the last part again, honey.

Okay.

How and in what way the child's sense of his body

is converted by acts of parental

and other external violence

into a kind of theater of fantastic horror.

How, in a sense, demons are introduced

into the self still remains to be seen.

It sounds good, honey.

What'd you do that for?

I don't know, sometimes I just,

I just hate what I'm doing.

- What do you mean? - Well, sometimes

it just doesn't seem to make any sense.

Hmm, you're upset about the new case at the prison, right?

Yeah, I am.

I am, this Kolberg, right?

He's in for 20 years for cutting up

his high school sweetheart.

Then last week he kills his cellmate.

Now, if I can prove that he can be redeemed,

that there's some vestige of conscience, of sanity,

well, that makes this guy eligible to fry.

Huh, come on.

You don't pass sentence.

That's for the judges, juries and lawyers.

You have to fight to get this guy back

to his soul before anybody worries

about what happens to him in court.

You know what I'd really like to do?

Hmm?

I'd just like to cure one human being.

That's all, just one.

I'd like to prove once and for all

that you can shake a shattered mind

and put it all back together again.

That's what I'd really like to do.

The truth of the matter is, in all my clinical experience,

I've never really seen it happen.

Yeah, maybe it's all bullshit.

Maybe I'm just a fraud.

Oh, honey, come on.

You're not a fraud.

You're the best man I know.

Is that right?

Yeah.

The best?

The best.

Even though I'm not interested in football?

Mm.

Even though you're not interested in football.

Okay, ready for breakfast?

Stop it, stop it.

Samantha, knock it off.

Come on.

- Ouch. - Samantha!

Stop it.

Now eat the cereal.

Here, Billy, here's your stuff.

- Stop it. - Ready for your coffee,

- honey? - I'll take it with me.

I'm gonna knock you out right now.

Hey, hey, hey, hey.

- God. - Hey.

Eat the cereal, come on.

Let's go say goodbye to your father.

Come here.

What time are you gonna be home, honey?

- About six o'clock. - Okay.

Here.

Come on.

Hurry up, here, honey.

Here.

Yeah, okay.

Get this.

- Say goodbye to your father. - Hey.

- Bye, we love you. - Bye.

Love you.

Stop at the grocery, okay?

The grocery?

- Yeah, for garbage bags. - Garbage bags?

- Please? - Okay.

Come on, let's go.

Bye.

Mary, I'm headed down to the prison

for my fourth session with Kolberg.

Oh, please remind Professor Collins

that he'll be seeing all my fourth-year

thesis advisees this afternoon.

Um, put a note on my desk, will you please,

in big letters: "Garbage bags."

And, oh, you'll be receiving a copy

on criminal psychology this afternoon

for the Psych Quarterly Review.

I'd appreciate it if you'd,

I'd appreciate it if you'd,

if you'd send a copy to all the members

of my postgraduate seminar.

And indicate that this will be groundwork

for the next few months of classes.

Mrs. Chrushank?

Yes?

I'm Dr. Webb.

Your husband's condition has stabilized.

Oh, thank God.

It's a miracle he survived that accident.

Mm.

He'll live.

But, Mrs. Chrushank,

I'm sorry, we can't save his arm.

Oh, God.

No.

Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully.

Oh.

I can give him a new arm.

What do you,

what do you mean you, what?

Okay, why don't you sit down.

Mr. Dean Kates,

to Main Reception.

Mr. Dean Kates to Main Reception.

Um, you mean, like,

like a plastic or

prosthetic or something?

We have a donor who suits your husband,

who can give him a normal human arm

as fully functional as the one he's lost.

Now, unfortunately,

I need to perform the operation immediately.

To maximize the chance of success,

I need your signature right away.

Oh, God, I don't know, um.

Couldn't we,

Couldn't we wait and ask him?

There's no time, I'm afraid.

Every second counts.

Police officers

and life support techs report to O.R. 5.

Bill.

Bill.

There's nothing to worry about.

Everything's gonna be just fine.

Hi, honey.

Hi.

Bill, I'm Dr. Webb.

You lost your arm in a car accident yesterday.

We've transplanted another arm for you.

I'm sorry.

Could we be alone for a few minutes, please?

Of course.

It's gonna be all right, honey.

We'll get through this, okay?

I swear.

Can you move it?

It's a process.

We take it one step at a time,

one day at a time.

Try again.

Shit.

Good.

Very good.

Lab 313 to the emergency room.

Lab 313 to the emergency room.

You can do it.

- Did you see that? - I did.

You're not supposed to that,

you dumbbell.

Hey, hey, hey.

- Come on guys. - Stop it.

- It's yours too. - Hey, you two.

Remember me?

You glad Daddy's coming home?

Yeah.

Hello, Karen.

Hi, doctor.

Billy.

Dr. Webb, I,

I can't find the words to thank you.

Let's get in closer.

Mr. Chrushank, how does it feel

to have someone else's arm?

Come on.

How does your family feel about the operation?

Mr. Chrushank, do you think the operation

will affect your sex life?

Mr. Chrushank, could you show us

your arm so we could get a shot?

Hold it up for the cameras, please.

Let's have a look at it.

Uh, I really don't think you people

should be talking to me.

You should be pointing the cameras at Dr. Webb.

She's going to be a Nobel Prize winner.

Could we have a comment, please?

- Dr. Webb. - One question, please.

We hope that in a few years time

the procedure which Bill Chrushank

underwent will become commonplace.

Other than to pay tribute

to the courage of Bill Chrushank,

there's nothing more to say.

Thank you.

- Thank you, Dr. Webb. - Move in, move in.

You know, guys, uh,

Mommy explained why I was away

in the hospital, right?

And she told you I got hurt and,

well, they took care of me in the hospital,

and I'm all better now.

And I just wanna know if you have any questions.

No, Dad, no questions.

No questions.

No questions?

I love you guys very much.

And, well,

I don't want you to worry about anything.

I'm here now and, uh,

I'm the same old daddy I was before.

Okay, and if you did worry

about anything, you'd tell me, right?

Hmm?

Can we see the arm, Daddy?

Oh, honey.

Daddy just got home.

Maybe later, okay?

Please?

- Dope head. - It's all right.

- Yeah. - You sure?

Sure.

They gotta see it sooner or later,

no time like the present.

There it is, guys.

- Mommy. - Oh, honey, it's Okay.

It's all right, come on.

Dad, it's sort of gross.

Come on, guys,

I know it looks a little funny, but,

well, it's not how it looks,

it's how it works, right?

And it does work as good as the old arm.

Matter of fact, it works even better in some ways.

Even better, Pop?

Even better, Billy.

I still love you, Daddy.

I love you, baby.

Hey, Billy, I tell you what, why don't we

go out and throw the football around.

- You mean it, Pop? - Yeah, come on.

Oh, yeah.

- Throw it to me, Daddy. - Throw it to you?

How about if I throw you?

Come on, Billy.

I missed you so much.

It doesn't bother you to touch the scars?

I thought it would, but.

Keep doing that.

Bye.

What?

What are you guys laughing at, huh?

Get in there.

Now, four months ago, we were discussing

the psychological roots

and wellsprings of human violence.

To continue on that, what we

have before us, a paradox, you see.

Because violence, when it's

sanctioned by the state,

is acceptable to us.

For example, policemen defending our families

and soldiers defending our country.

We celebrate them as heroes.

But this is not, not the case

with the so-called freelance individual.

Because we regard individual acts of violence

with repugnance and revulsion.

What is it that makes a man,

or a woman for that matter,

who is normal in most respects,

lose control

of the restraints that make him

a civilized being

and do severe harm to others?

Well, that's a mystery.

And a mystery that you and I must explore

to its very depths.

Yeah.

Oh, uh, shit!

Son of a bitch!

- Daddy, Daddy, what happened? - Shit!

- What are you looking at? - Come here.

- Bill, what's the matter? - Shit.

- Oh, man. - Jesus.

Here.

How's it going, doc?

All right.

Heard you've been on the TV.

Heard you were a regular freak of science.

I've been pretty lucky.

Is that right?

You don't look real good.

What do you mean?

What do you mean, what do I mean?

You look

like about how I usually feel.

Be more specific.

What do you mean?

You look like shit, man.

Do you speak English?

Maybe you got some kind

of little demon inside of you these days.

How about that, doc?

You been losing sleep lately, hmm?

Let me ask you this, Ray, does it make it easier

for you to talk to me, seeing me like this?

Do you trust me?

Yeah.

- Yeah? - I don't know.

I want you to trust me.

They only give those out on death row, pal.

You gotta be a stone killer to wear that shit.

What kind of shrink are you, man?

You get away from me!

Get away from me!

Get away, I'm not talking to you, man.

You got that fucking thing on your arm.

Get away!

Get away from me!

Two weeks and they haven't found the guy?

- I told the cops, back off. - Excuse me.

- Come on! - You're hurting my arm.

- Don't give me any grief. - Was there a warrant?

- Judge signed it. - No, get down to Forensics

and check it out, will ya?

Hey, Bill.

What can I do you for?

I want you to run my prints.

You want me to run your prints?

Yeah.

Any past record I had would show up

on the printout, right?

Sure, why, you got some blackouts you're worried about?

No, just indulge me, will you?

Give me your thumb.

Jesus Christ.

Honey.

What's the matter?

How long you been sitting

here like this, hon?

I don't know.

Why can't you sleep, honey?

Don't know.

Bill, come on, talk to me.

I think there's something the matter with me.

What?

It's the arm.

The arm's okay.

No, I think there's something wrong with it.

What are you talking about?

I found out who it belonged to.

You did, who?

A vicious killer.

Somebody who makes Kolberg look like a,

like an altar boy.

Honey, you have this guy's arm.

You don't have his personality.

I don't know.

You know nothing about this guy, right?

Except his rap sheet?

And you always say when you're confused,

get more information.

Find out who the guy really was.

The differences between you

and this creep will emerge.

I chose not to tell you about Fletcher

because I thought it would impede your recovery.

In the long run, scientifically speaking,

the psychological makeup

of the donor is irrelevant.

It's your arm now, not Charley Fletcher's.

- Dr. - Brown, proceed with code red.

Dr. Brown, proceed with code red.

Yeah, well,

that's what my wife says.

You should make a practice

of listening to her more closely.

Dr. Webb,

you put a killer's arm onto my body,

and you didn't tell me.

I now have a murderer's blood in my blood.

I can't believe a man with your psychiatric background

can be saying what you're saying.

That arm can't do anything you don't want it to.

How do you know that?

Listen, Bill.

Any physical problems you have with the arm,

I and my staff will be thrilled to help you with.

But as to these other matters you're bringing up,

well, I suggest you talk to a good psychiatrist.

Thanks for your time, doctor.

Well right here,

- do you see the icterus index? - Yes.

Dr. Webb.

Mr. Draper is having some problems.

I'll take a look at him right away.

Line four, there.

Yes.

Good enough, thank you.

Goddammit, who is that?

What do you want?

I need to talk to you.

You need to talk to me?

What about?

About your arm.

My arm?

Yeah, I got the other one.

Yeah, so like, uh,

you wanna arm wrestle, or what?

That arm used to belong to a killer.

Okay.

You got my attention.

This is it, old man.

Magic digit saved my life.

Death, transfiguration.

Complete rebirth.

Best work I have ever done.

Best work anyone's ever done.

In this century anyhow.

You're a true believer in Dr. Webb, huh?

Agatha Webb is the most brilliant woman I have ever met.

Probably on a genius level.

Darwin,

Edward Hopper,

Wilhelm Reich, Elvis Presley

and Agatha Webb.

I put her right up there.

This is Charley Fletcher.

Charley who?

Charley Fletcher, the killer.

Killed 20 people.

With his bare hands.

With that hand that you paint with.

With the arm that Webb sewed

onto your shoulder, that,

that killed people.

Yeah?

Well, what did he do with your arm?

Don't you wonder where these images come from?

If maybe they come from him?

Oh, look, pal,

I don't know what you do,

but you sure the hell ain't no art critic.

Where do my images come from?

If you or anybody have

a sound theory on that one,

I recommend you bottle it and sell it at auction.

They just come to me, man.

I snatch 'em out of the air.

Thank God.

I wanna show you something.

You see this?

For the last 25 years,

I was a hack, I can say that now.

Dumb,

Cape Cod landscapes.

Wall fillers for banks, hotel rooms,

that was the best I could do.

Nobody had two seconds

of their precious fucking time for my serious work.

I get this arm, and, hey,

I make $250,000.00 in the first three weeks.

My dealer's phone never stops ringing.

The New York-fucking-Times is talking

about my searing, original talent.

I got no complaints.

The world is my fucking oyster.

I'm a 10-year-old kid on the street corner

flying a red, white and blue kite.

You hear what I'm saying?

This, this isn't art.

This, these, these,

these aren't your pictures.

This is,

these are Charley Fletcher's pictures.

Don't you see, that's what he saw.

This, this right here?

This is what he saw

when he was breaking a girl's neck.

That over there, that's what he saw

when he killed five police officers.

And this one, this one right here?

This is what he saw when he was laying

on the table, on the operating table

and they were cutting him to pieces!

That's what he saw, these are his pictures!

I know what I'm talking about

'cause I see these pictures in my mind!

You see those pictures in your mind?

Yeah?

You see this?

It's a paintbrush.

You see this?

This is paint.

Go ahead, have at it!

Everybody's a fucking painter.

I'm sorry that you got a problem

with all this, but, hey.

I'm busy.

The inspiration is on the flow.

The bluebird is on the wing,

and I gotta catch it.

I gotta, see, I'm working on my first million here.

Nice talking to you.

It's childish of me, I know.

But I'm somewhat disturbed to learn

that I'm not the only beneficiary

of Dr. Webb's experiments.

I must find out if other experimental subjects

are having the same turbulent shifts in mood and activity

that I've been experiencing.

Does the arm really have a soul of its own?

These questions are,

I know, monstrous and fantastic.

But what has happened since the accident?

Is it not fantastic?

- Honey, we're late. - Jesus Christ, what?

You scared the shit out of me.

What?

Well, piss off.

I'm not the one who said we had to go

to this faculty dinner party

for the new German guy in your department.

Oh, shit, I forgot all about it.

You know, if you think going and listening to a bunch

of faculty clowns gossip is my idea of a good time,

you've got another thing coming.

If you don't wanna leave your blessed study, let's not go.

Hey, hey, hold on a second!

What are you so angry about?

What am I so angry about?

I don't know, what have I got

to be so angry about?

Last night you scare the shit

out of me about the guy who had your arm.

Today you bury yourself in here with your books.

What have I got to be angry about, huh?

Okay, I'm sorry, all right?

I'm sorry, there's nothing wrong.

I'm sorry, everything's fine.

I talked to Dr. Webb, everything is perfect.

You saw Dr. Webb and you didn't tell me?

Why should I tell ya?

There's nothing wrong, everything's fine.

She says, I got this guy Fletcher's arm.

It's no big deal, who cares?

Everything's perfect.

So it's okay?

Yeah, it's okay, it's great!

He took five of my men.

Good ones.

I took him in.

The judge gave him the chair.

Then it kinda gets hazy.

There's this lady doctor who wants to experiment

grafting techniques on convicts.

She's up to her neck in politics.

Charley's got no family.

No lawyer.

No money, he's nobody.

She pulls the right strings

and cha-cha-cha,

you've got his arm.

I was in the operation room

with eight armed officers

when they sawed his head off.

End of story.

I'm home.

Hey, where is everybody?

Hey!

- Dad! - Hey!

Come here, you.

Dammit!

- Billy! - Mom!

What's going on?

Billy, what is it?

What is wrong with you?

Are you crazy?

Huh?

- Billy, I'm sorry. - He's a child.

You don't, you don't hit a child!

Don't you ever put your hands on him!

Come here.

Mommy, what's wrong with Daddy?

That arm can't do anything

you don't want it to.

- Go, go, go. - Look at that.

Go for a shot, put it up.

- Oh, nice shot. - Come on.

Oh, nice shot.

- Hey, Mark! - Put that up, man.

- Keep it going. - I'll tell you what.

- Pump it up, Mark. - Yo, Mark, what's up?

- Foul shot. - Hey, guys.

- Hey, Mark, how you doing? - Good.

You positive you're up for this?

I'm positive, come on, let's do it.

- Okay, you're on my side. - Come on, roll it here.

All right, let's go.

Play it tight, now, play it tight.

Shot clock, let's go.

Bring it down, man-to-man.

Watch that hole.

Watch the zone, watch the pick there!

Get on him.

Go from the side, go for it.

Let me have it.

Okay, move around.

Harris, go for the boards now.

- Oh. - Hey, over here.

Come on, Casey, come on, now.

Get at him, all right, go for it, Mark.

Holy shit!

Yeah!

Jesus Christ!

What the?

What the fuck?

You all right?

- Huh, yeah? - Yeah, I, I think so.

What happened?

I, uh, I don't know what happened.

Just, my leg, uh.

- Fuck. - Your leg?

What, what's the matter with your leg?

I don't know, it just kind of, uh,

just kind of stomped on the gas there.

And I couldn't, I couldn't get it

to hit the fucking brake.

I don't, it probably sounds pretty nuts, huh?

No, it doesn't, doesn't sound nuts at all.

My name's Bill Chrushank.

Hi.

I know this sounds weird but I got my arm

from the same place you got your legs.

I'm Mark, Mark Draper.

- Hi, Mark. - Hi.

Mark, uh, you all right?

Okay.

Can I talk to you a little bit?

Yeah, sure.

Listen, I, I,

see, I've been having some side effects from,

from this operation and I just,

I need to talk to somebody

who's been through the same procedure,

you know what I mean?

And, well, my arm, it's kind of like,

it's been doing things on its own.

And, and something's wrong.

See, something's wrong with this operation.

I don't know what it is.

No, it's, probably just rehabilitation, you know?

I mean, it takes a while for it to come back.

I think that's what happened here.

I just, you know, having some trouble with my coordination.

Coordination, Mark,

- Yeah. - Mark, I followed you.

I, I saw you play basketball.

You looked pretty coordinated on the court there.

What's the matter with the car here,

that's not coordination.

Hey, it was an accident, you know.

I mean, accidents happen.

Hey, look, I can walk.

I had an accident three years ago at work.

It crushed both my legs, put me in a fucking wheelchair.

Lose your legs sometime,

I'm telling you, all your other problems

shrink to nothing in comparison.

Jesus Christ, why,

why doesn't anybody wanna ask

any questions about these operations?

What are you talking about, ask questions?

I mean, look, all I want to do is get good

with these babies and get on with my life.

I suggest you do the same.

Yeah, all right, all right, Mark.

Yeah, okay.

Listen, I'll tell you what.

Here's my card, all right?

Here, I'm sorry I bothered you.

- If you, just talk sometime. - No bother, I'm just,

you know, I gotta get on with it.

- Yeah. - All right.

Thanks for, thanks for stopping.

Bill.

Bill.

Bill.

Stop it, no, no!

Let go!

Karen.

Get away from me!

Just stay away from me!

Stay away from me.

Wake up, honey.

Daddy, I'm asleep.

Sit down here, honey.

Billy.

Dad.

I was asleep.

What's the matter?

Where's Mommy?

Daddy has to go away

for a little while, guys, okay?

How long?

I don't know, Billy.

Daddy loves you guys

very, very much.

Why?

Are you upset with Mommy?

No, honey.

Can I come?

No, Billy, you can't.

I want it off.

Are you insane?

I got serious problems, doctor.

I hit my kid.

I tried to strangle my wife.

I have nightmares every night!

Look, it's, it's okay, all right?

The arm's fine, I don't want it.

Just give it to somebody else.

Just give me a hook or something.

Do you realize what I and my team

have accomplished with that arm of yours?

Don't you realize that if a gun

were put to my head, I wouldn't jeopardize

the accomplishment that your surgery represents?

Can't you see this arm is killing me?

I'm sorry to put this so bluntly, Bill.

But the pain you're in just isn't

that important when I balance it against

the significance of the experiment.

You won't perform the operation to remove the arm?

No.

And I'll see you put in a mental institution

before I let you undo what I've done.

Let me be blunt, doctor.

Why don't you go fuck yourself.

Get the hell out of this office.

Fuck you and all your bullshit!

I want this fucking arm off!

I don't know how we got to be like this.

It all seemed to go so well at first and now,

now we can't seem to have a normal moment

with you around here.

Jesus, if only I hadn't signed

that damn piece of paper,

none of this would be happening.

The corollary of violence is loneliness.

Humanity shrinks from the violent man

as if he were a carrier of disease.

Cut off from my family,

I'm terrified of what I am becoming.

I need someone to share my sense of isolation with.

And yes, a growing sense of horror.

I'm alone

and afraid.

I really appreciate you guys showing up.

Every time I look at my hand,

I keep thinking

about how many people it's killed.

How can one man kill so many people?

I'm having terrible nightmares, you guys.

Look, I've had some problems

with the legs too, but I mean,

just as soon keep 'em, right?

It's just pieces of this guy we got.

Not his, uh,

not him, you know.

That's what I'm wondering, see?

I mean, where is evil?

Where does it live?

Does it live in the soul?

In the mind?

Maybe it lives in the heart.

Maybe it lives in the flesh.

How can one man kill so many people?

Look, Bill.

You gotta stop torturing yourself.

Lay off the metaphysical speculation.

It's a waste of fucking time,

you know what I'm saying?

Maybe evil lives in the skin.

I don't know.

Look, why don't you talk to Agatha Webb about this.

She knows what she's talking about.

I mean, she's looked into these things.

She's spent her whole life on it.

She's gone to the mountain, man.

How come you guys don't have the same symptoms I do, huh?

I mean, why wasn't my transplant a success like yours?

Yeah, I mean, she might be brilliant.

You might be right.

Maybe,

maybe it is me.

You, you gotta stop fighting it.

Go with the flow.

Don't be so stiff.

Listen to what your arm's saying to you.

What's my arm saying?

Right now it's saying,

"Have another drink, old buddy."

Now, that's funny.

Because that's just what my legs are saying too.

Gentlemen.

I'd like to propose a toast.

To our benefactor, Charley.

- To Charley. - To Charley.

Thanks, Chuck.

Hey.

Hey, asshole.

I know you.

I've seen you on the TV news.

- Oh, yeah? - Yeah.

Come on, let's see the hand.

It's just a hand,

just like any other hand.

You wanna see mine too?

It's a matched pair.

I wanna see the one from the TV.

Hey, come on, I ain't no circus attraction.

Yeah?

You're some kind of fucking freak.

Oh, I wish he hadn't said that.

Come on.

- Let me see your hand. - Back off, man.

Come on, let me see

- that hand. - Hey!

Hey, take it outside, come on!

Hello, police.

This is L.B.'s Bar.

Get over here right away.

There's a fight going on.

Move it, move it!

Somebody get these people out of here.

Come on, Bill!

What are you looking at?

- Everybody get back. - All right, that's enough.

What the hell is going on?

Get an ambulance!

Ah!

Ow.

What is up here?

Come on, legs.

Whoa.

This is Bill Chrushank

in exile.

Current location, the Hillcrest Hotel.

Well, enough about me.

How are you doing?

Leave a message at the beep,

and tell me all about it.

Hey, Bill.

Hey, Bill, it's Mark Draper calling.

Just calling to, just, you know,

to see what's going on with you.

To see what's up.

I'm, I'm at home.

Just...

Mark?

No.

No!

- Hello. - Karen.

Take the kids and go to your mother's.

What?

Mark Draper's been murdered.

Now, just go.

Just don't pack.

Just go now!

Samantha?

Billy?

Samantha.

Okay, lift.

- Tell me again. - All right, we're loaded

up here.

You were home when you got his call.

And you hadn't seen Draper since the bar.

What was your fight about at the bar?

We weren't fighting.

It sounded like a fight to me.

He was just trying to stop me.

Stop what?

Listen, I'm tired.

You got any more questions?

Yes, I do.

Bill.

I'm sorry.

I'll have to start asking them downtown.

You better check with Remo Lacey.

What for?

Because I think his life is in danger.

Give it back.

You'll be safe.

From now on, you'll be with me.

I'm not safe.

I'm next.

It's Charley!

What the hell's going on?

You son of a bitch!

- Hang on! - Look out!

Oh, shit!

Turn right, right, right!

Stay on him!

Stay with him!

Shoot him, where's your gun?

Goddamn!

Shoot him!

No, no, don't shoot him!

Don't shoot him, stop!

You son of a bitch!

Son of a bitch!

Get out of the fucking way!

Oh, shit!

Go left, go left!

Shit!

Give me the gun, I'll shoot him!

Damn, shit.

Oh, Charley!

Dearest Karen,

This may be my final journal entry.

Having read this, you know the truth.

I hope you understand why

I have to do I what I'm about to do.

I love you, Karen.

You and the kids are the best thing I've known.

Bill.

Welcome, Bill.

You wanted to give back Charley's arm?

We're ready to take it.

You're completely out of your fucking mind.

And you're a threat to every living thing you touch.

The grafting on of limbs was only the beginning.

The beginning?

Saving Charley Fletcher's head

so he could run around and kill people?

That's quite an achievement, doctor.

Science, like nature, destroys to build.

I'm part of a process that's bigger than all of us.

Now we transplant heads

with full brain chemistry and functions intact.

Don't you see where this can lead?

God.

Yeah.

Straight to hell!

Fuck you.

No!

No!

No!

Get me Detective Sawchuck.

Homicide.

Homicide.

This is Chrushank.

I'm over at the clinic.

Charley Fletcher's dead.

I've got Dr. Webb here.

You better get over here.

As I sit here today, the only survivor

of Dr. Webb's experiments,

I feel somewhat resigned.

The questions I've been asking

are quite simply beyond my reach.

Where does evil live?

Is evil in the flesh?

If a tree falls in the forest,

and nobody is there to hear it,

does it make a sound?

Inquiring minds want to know.

And life goes on.

I do know that evil does not live in my arm,

because since Charley has died,

I've experienced none of the violent tendencies

the arm initially manifested.

I've adjusted and accepted

the fact that I am the recipient

of a miraculous new surgical technique.

And to that end,

I owe Dr. Webb and Charley.

The arm's mine now, Chuck.

I won it, fair and square.

You're not leaving those last lines in, are you?

Sure.

Well, I thought you said that this was gonna

be published in the Journal of Medicine?

It is, I just thought I'd inject a little humor.

Oh, well, then it's brilliant.

- You think so? - Mm-hmm.

The rest of it ain't so bad either.

I love you.

Can't find what you're looking for?
Get subtitles in any language from opensubtitles.com, and translate them here.