Original subtitles

Get out of the cage now!

No!

You just cross your pretty legs, honey.

We'll be right back.

No!

How am I supposed to go down here?

Like a dog.

Is that what I am?

A dog?

A dog can be trained.

Why are you so bad to me?

It's cause you ain't no good.

That's why.

You're wrong.

I'm good at lots of things.

Hm, like what?

Like stealing.

But you ain't much for getting away, now, are ya?

Yeah.

Scammin' and stealin' may well be the crust of life.

But there's only one meat worth putting in that fire.

And what's that?

Well, love, of course.

A dramatic scene today

at the Beverly Hills home of Emmy Award-winning actors

Michael and Maria Franklin.

Just hours ago, their 16-year-old daughter, Lola

Franklin, was reported missing.

Police are treating it as a potential kidnapping.

Details on her abduction are still coming in.

But here's what we can tell you... Lola Franklin, daughter

of Emmy Award winning actors Michael and Maria

Franklin was taken from her home sometime

after 10:00 PM last night.

And at 1:24 AM, she made a distress call

from her cell phone.

Police are still not sure where exactly

that call was made from.

But they are focusing the investigation around her home

and in the East Los Angeles area.

You have no idea who I am, do you?

No, ma'am.

But you seem real nice.

I'm sure it's all going to work out for you.

What's good?

I'm generally partial to eggs... boiled or fried.

Mostly boiled.

I mean, who knows what kind of drippy,

poison body fat was on that griddle

before they even fry those eggs.

You know what I mean?

What'll it be?

I'll have four fried eggs.

What about you, sweetheart?

I'll take six.

Six fried eggs.

Make that eight.

Eight fried eggs.

Yes, ma'am.

This is fun.

We have breaking news on the kidnapping

of Lola Franklin.

Just minutes ago, police released

this recording of the terrified teenager pleading for her life.

A warning... this may be upsetting for some viewers.

I don't know where I am.

I don't know where we're going.

I don't what he wants.

But please, help me.

Faked your own kidnapping.

Pretty good, right?

My parents are actors.

Why would you do that?

They look like nice people, right?

My parents.

But they're not.

Their tears are fake.

Seem pretty genuine to me.

You don't recognize them?

You know when there's a natural disaster,

and the TV has those phone in and give

money the victim things?

Mm hm.

And the celebrities come on.

And they're all like, give money and stop

the suffering and the starving of the children,

blah, blah, blah, blah.

Yeah.

Have you ever noticed that the football players are all cool?

The actors are like choking back tears.

Have you ever noticed that?

Yeah.

Do you think it's cause they're like really

sensitive and emotional, and the very thought of recording

a video message about shivering kiddies

gets them all misty eyed and broken up inside?

Or do you think it's because weeping

in front of the camera's part of their fucking job?

See?

They're all hugging and shit.

They did the exact same thing in "Cold Harbor."

Episode Four, Season Three.

Their kid went missing.

And they did the exact same thing.

They're not even married.

They haven't been married for years.

Ah.

No.

You think I'm upset because my parents are divorced?

Everyone's parents are divorced.

You think there's like a billion kids

flopping around on the floor... oh no, my parents are divorced,

it's all my fault!

It's because they're evil.

Evil.

Evil like what?

Like outer space evil?

Like vampire evil.

Right.

So that's why you ran away?

Because they're vampires.

Wouldn't you?

I'll take those eggs to go.

I'm coming with you.

You know what you get for kidnapping a minor?

Doing sick and confusing things to them?

Things regular people wouldn't even know how to spell.

Do you know what you get for that?

You get your fucking balls cut off, is what.

Are you a bitter man?

By night.

Do you carry in your heart a measure of dislike

towards cute and furry animals?

No ma'am.

Well, I'm guessing about seven seconds.

Seven seconds?

That's how long it will take to convince the people

in this diner that you're a ruthless, dangerous

kidnapper that has taken my person, and likely

my virginity.

If they don't cut your balls off,

the two dozen state troopers that come

pouring in through this door when called certainly will.

So it's up to you.

You can be a nutless, kidnapping eunuch, or my hero.

What's it gonna be?

I like you.

I know.

So.

What kind of trouble you in?

Who said I'm in any trouble?

Boy like you.

Car like this.

You're in trouble.

Well, I guess it's sort of a misunderstanding.

I guess it must've been.

Nice picture.

That's pretty sneaky.

You're a pickpocket.

I'm a fingersmith.

I like you.

I know.

So where you headed?

Mobile, Alabama.

Yeah?

What's in Mobile, Alabama?

All things good that back then was,

and everything's that's yet to be.

Yeah, well it sounds like heaven.

Don't it, though?

1,200 miles.

You got any money?

I was planning on acquiring the criminal version

of invisibility.

Honey, you tell me why a Beverly

Hills princess fakes her own kidnapping,

runs off into the desert.

I'll teach you to shear the gold from a judge's jaw bone.

Fake?

Lover, I escaped the cold, stone,

ghoulish clutches of an undead vampire castle.

Ah, you don't live in a castle.

Like you've ever seen a castle.

Well, does it have a drawbridge?

It's got guards.

It's got towers.

And vampires.

Those vampires.

My so-called parents.

At night, they crawl out the tower windows, down the castle

wall, to the village below.

There, they steal through open windows

to suck the blood from babies and children.

Night after night, the ghouls return

to feed on that same child.

And that child begins to pale and weaken.

Are you trying to tell me... did your father...

Molest me?

If the man did that, he wouldn't be undead.

He'd be dead-dead.

That, I believe.

So you gonna share with me your dark art of thievery?

Not exactly a satisfactory answer as to why you ran away.

It's the only one you're gonna get.

Show me your hands.

Oh, you got stubby fingers.

I'm close to positive it's not a no you want to say to me.

First thing to understand is that fingersmithing

involves no weapons, no violence, no long-term effects

on the mark.

Take only wallets and purses.

We only take them from those who can afford to lose them.

Now, what do you see?

I see a couple of pickpockets standing under a "Beware

of Pickpockets" sign.

That's the whole point, is they see the sign.

Then their heart catches a beat... where's my wallet,

they think.

And as they think it, their hand instinctively

goes to their money.

Cool.

It's practically an invitation.

OK, so now you have your mark.

You know where the money is.

How do we get it?

Operating on your own is trickier.

But with two, the simplest version is a sandwich.

A sandwich?

We're the bread.

And the mark... well , he's the turkey.

Just like any sandwich, you have two bits of bread... one behind

and one in front.

Pick and a stall.

The one in front's a stall.

The one behind's a pick.

All the stall has to do is stall so that... then

the pick bumps into the mark.

Oh, beg your pardon.

Not at all.

That bump allows for believable contact.

And in that contact, the lifting of the wallet is concealed.

It's magic!

Nah, just genius.

Mister?

I'm sorry.

Man gotta have a code.

So.

This misunderstanding.

Yeah?

Has it got something to do with the unsolicited years

of your spirit fingers?

It does.

What did you steal?

Just a kiss.

And for that you're on the run?

I'm a good kisser.

Maybe you can deliver a kiss worthy of interstate pursuit.

But you're a terrible liar.

I don't know what it is you did steal.

But a baby's sweet nothing, it was not.

Stop!

Tell me you love me.

Tell you?

I'm gonna show you.

Tell me.

Well, I love you like a bad disease.

Like a death star, plane crash fireball.

Show me.

What's your name?

Marlo.

Marlo.

I want to gouge your fucking eyes out.

I want to bite your face off.

I believe if we concentrate our powers we

can make ourselves invisible.

I believe every cop they got's out there looking for you.

They're not going to find me, are they?

Why'd you run away?

They're not going to find me.

They're not going to take me back, are they?

No.

Never.

Where did you go?

What about him?

Not with those boots.

Ooh, maybe her.

Only poor people use pay phones.

This was back in the 50s, back when

Vegas was Sinatra and gangsters and the atomic bomb.

Clubs used to throw these all night A-bomb parties.

And in the morning, they'd all go out on the deck,

put on the dark glasses, and watch the A-bomb test

like it was the 4th of July.

The Vegas of today... the strip... couldn't hold a candle to it.

So it was at one of these A-bomb parties

that the robbery occurred.

Now, when she realized that her diamonds were missing... well,

she was very upset.

So the owner, he bars up the doors.

And they search everybody in the joint.

Now, unfortunately, the perpatrator...

the only thing missing, apart from the necklace, was him.

It's the last great buried treasure in America.

And $10 million in diamonds and pearls.

You!

Who are you?

Who the hell are you?

I'm Jeff.

Are you a cop?

Are you a police officer?

No.

I... I... I... I... I'm Jeff.

What the fuck are you doing here?

We just came to get ice cream.

Uh, darlin'...

Guy in the back, get out here.

Everybody put your arms down.

Put your arms down.

Baby, get the money.

Excuse me?

Come on, baby. Get the money from the register.

Let's go.

Lola!

Lola, get back in here!

What the hell are you doing with my life?

I'm so hot for you right now.

What?

Christ!

Just stay there!

Stay there!

Stay!

What I do takes style.

It takes subtlety.

Lola.

You're out there auditioning for America's Most Wanted!

God, you're such a baby.

Lola, you are, without a doubt the craziest,

the most dangerous, worse time 10

version of a bad idea I ever had.

Well, I guess I love you, too, baby.

Who's that?

That's Mama.

Aren't you going to introduce us?

No. Well, I would.

But me and Mama, we had that misunderstanding.

What kind of misunderstanding?

The unresolved kind.

You see what you made me do?

Do you see?

Do you see how your mama loves you?

What's going on, baby?

I swear to you, I'll tell you everything.

Right now, I need you to get the fucking bags.

We gotta go.

We gotta go.

Don't you see?

Right.

There's a church.

- Did it come out? - What?

The bullet.

Did it come out?

I... I don't know.

Get down here, Lola.

Get down here!

Just check.

There's no hole.

There's no hole.

You gotta get it out.

I gotta get a doctor.

No no no no no.

She'll find us.

I know you can do this, baby.

No, I know it.

I know that you can.

I know it.

Five minutes.

God!

I love you.

I love you.

Do it.

Do it.

Do it.

I can feel it!

Hush, you!

Come on!

I am awesome.

Mama shot me.

Wedding's gonna be a barn burner.

Is she your real mama?

Well, I can't claim to be a reliable witness

to my own birth, which I'm pretty sure is a good thing.

But she raised you.

Now, in a way she did.

He's a gentle soul, that son of mine.

You should have borrowed that money from him.

And that's why she shot you?

Because you saw her?

Not exactly.

What I am is on the run from my own mama.

Direct result of me stealing from her a duffel bag

full of cash, tossing it off a building to a crowd in a kind

of Robin Hood kind of gesture.

A million dollars?

And change.

I was very upset.

I'm not scared of her.

Let her come.

Emmy Award-winning actors,

Michael and Maria Franklin.

Whoever

you are that took our daughter away,

you will pay for what you did.

We want her back.

And to anyone who returns her to us safe and sound,

we're offering a reward of $1 million.

I got these tacos from this couple on the side of the road.

I swear they must be like a thousand and three years old.

And they got this TV hooked up to

this donkey-powered generator.

And they just sit there all day watching Mexican soap operas,

being really happy.

How is that even possible?

Why'd you run away?

I was kidnapped.

Lola.

I told you.

My parents are werewolves.

You said vampires.

No, they're werewolves.

You know what?

That's a matter for the police.

It's not our concern.

This is a cash offer.

No questions asked.

$1 million for the safe return of our daughter.

Why'd you run away?

I saved your life.

And now you want to cash me in?

You're selling me?

I want to protect you.

By sending me back?

By taking you somewhere safe.

They're monsters!

They're your parents.

And since they're clearly not werewolves or vampires,

and they're not molesting you or abusing you,

then it's a whole lot safer than being with me.

So you're selling me?

You think I want to do this?

I don't pay off Mama, I'm a dead man.

And if you're with me when she finds me, you're dead too.

I was with you.

I'm the reason you're alive.

It's the right thing to do.

What the fuck do you know about the right thing to do?

You're a thief.

You're a liar.

You're a coward.

I love you.

Fuck you.

I'm sorry.

Fuck you.

Fight back!

I love you, Lola.

Stop saying that!

But I'm taking you back.

I'll give you five seconds to call this off.

No chance.

Four, three, two...

- Lola. - ...One.

Done. Help!

Help!

Kidnap!

Kidnap!

Help!

Kidnap!

Kidnap!

Help!

Help!

Help me!

Of course she was a captive.

Everyone saw that.

But she didn't seem scared.

No.

She seemed angry, but not scared.

So this is the honeymoon?

What are you doing?

Lola?

Mr. Franklin, my name is Marlo.

I'm the guy that didn't kidnap your daughter.

Mr. Marlo,

there are billions of people that didn't kidnap my daughter.

But the man who calls me from her cell phone

is not likely one of them.

Nobody kidnapped her, Mr. Franklin.

She ran away.

I'm calling because I'm bringing her home.

And I wouldn't want to be mistaken for a kidnapper.

Are you around 18 years old?

Yes.

5'10", dark hair?

Yep.

Did you

drag my daughter handcuffed through a wedding

and into a stolen car?

Well, I did, but it was...

Kidnapper.

No, it was just to bring her home, Mr. Franklin.

She's a runaway.

Let me speak to her.

You're on speaker.

She's sitting right next to me.

Lola.

Lola, honey, are you OK?

Lola.

Lola, speak to me.

Lola!

I... I'm sorry, Mr. Franklin.

She's not talking.

If this is some kind of prank,

- I assure you... - It's not a prank, Mr. Franklin.

She's just in a bad mood.

Bad mood?

What kind of fool do you think I am?

Mr. Franklin, let me send you a picture.

I'll take a photo of Lola and send it to you right away.

OK?

Do it.

All right, smile.

Nice.

No, real, real nice.

Come here!

Get!

You know what you just did?

You just put a big goddamn target on my head.

Whoops.

Now, listen, sweetheart.

Now, between Mama, the cops, the state troopers, the FBI...

I think they got killing me down pretty good.

They don't need any help from you.

I told you I didn't want to go back.

And I told you every second you spend with me is one second

closer to you getting caught and killed

by a crazy-ass bitch with a thing for dead man

pussy licking.

It's no way to live.

And it's sure as shit ain't no way to die.

Now, you're going back to the lap of luxury.

I'm going to pay off Mama.

Nobody's gonna get killed!

Anytime any part of that sounds like a bad idea,

you just let me know.

Do me a favor.

Try to contain your cinematic fantasies.

Don't do anything that's gonna get us killed.

I would have done anything for you.

I know.

10 fingers against the dash, please, sir.

Please, now is it?

Any one of them moves, it will be nine.

Are you Lola Franklin?

No.

Out of the car.

I'm going to push your face into the hood of the car here.

But I want you to know there's no malice in it.

Safety first.

Everything's all right, Ms. Franklin.

It's all over.

You're safe.

However flattering it is or isn't to be mistaken as Lola

Franklin, the stars in your eyes have caused

you to make a secondary error.

Oh, shit!

Oh, sh... what the fuck?

Gotcha.

I'm sorry about that, officer.

But please believe my sole and goodly purpose

is to return Lola, here, safe and whole

to her parents warm embrace.

I'm sure you understand that's difficult for me to believe.

Truth is, I never thought it'd be quite so difficult to do

the right thing.

First time?

No, but I sure hope it's the last.

And do you imagine that in addition

to the courage of your convictions,

you possess the means to see them through?

Well, I bested you, sir.

I'm not going back.

Not something you often hear from a kidnap victim.

True enough.

Well, if you could relate that to your law enforcement

colleagues, I'd be grateful.

Situation of this complexity is best

explained by you in person.

Well, as entertaining as arrest and incarceration would be,

I'm afraid I must decline.

Thank you for not shooting me.

I hope my eluding your policing in this way

has not caused you any professional embarrassment.

Oh, I'm sure any persecution I might face

will be more than compensated for by the memory

of our delightful conversation.

Well it's always a pleasure to meet a gentleman.

Hey, fella?

Should information come to me that contradicts

the honorable sentiments that you have displayed

in relation to Ms. Franklin, I'll pour gasoline

on you, set you on fire.

What?

Alabama.

No chance.

I helped you.

I helped you back.

I'll escape.

I'll catch you.

I'll kill you.

We need a new car.

Remarkable images

today of the kidnapped teenager, Lola Franklin, the daughter...

The kidnapper seen here

has not yet been identified...

We shouldn't steal from these people.

Nobody's here.

It's the perfect people to steal from.

Have you ever been to Alabama?

Have you ever seen your mother blow a guy's brains out?

You don't know my mother.

No, but you know mine.

I know you're running from her.

Not for much longer.

Courage is not the absence of fear.

And love is not a license for suicide.

Of course it is.

What do you think?

I think that you're scared.

Goddamn it!

Goddamn it.

Who the hell are you?

Nobody.

What do you want?

Nothing.

, it's all yours.

Sir, um, what are you doing?

She serious?

She's very nurturing.

I mean why are you doing it?

May have escaped your direct attention.

I've moved beyond the why.

I'm well into the how.

What's your name?

That's none of your business.

Please.

I'm just trying to help.

You want to help?

You get me a bigger box.

Marlo, fetch me a box.

Now.

What's your name?

I'll tell you my name, you give me that box.

I give you the box, you give me a stream

of piss running down your leg.

Sounds like a no.

Normally I'm not the kind of girl to fish for compliments.

But I'm pretty sure we're saving your life here.

I wouldn't be doing that.

Why?

I'm a very bad man.

I was born in nineteen hundred and sixty.

Or '61.

Can't be sure of the date.

Place was where we sit.

My mama pushed me out

and my daddy caught me before I hit the dirt.

He was a prospector.

Little success and less cheer.

My presence in the world did nothing to improve his luck.

He was a god-fearing man, my daddy.

For all his bible learning, he did one irretrievable evil.

The man put into me a lust for gold would make Cortez

and the rape of the new world seem

an afternoon perambulation.

Gold.

There was a time the word itself would,

with the will in me so strong... the self-abuse would last

from sundown to cock's crow.

Truth is, there was never enough gold in these hills

to fill the teeth of 10 men.

20 years of hardscrabble did nothing to teach me better.

Or was it 30 years?

Or 40?

My whole life, I prayed to the golden god.

I worshipped and I sacrificed.

Every day I woke with the true belief...

the true belief... that this would

be the day to find the nugget would change my life.

I woke this morning and my faith was broken.

And with no faith in the dream, got no place in the world.

That doesn't make you a bad man.

No.

No.

This might.

You have a gun?

Now, why didn't you just shoot yourself?

Shut up.

Fear not, ma'am.

Your ordeal of captivity and deprivation is at an end.

Oh my god.

Listen, buddy...

Shut up, you villainous desecrator.

You know who I am.

Yes, ma'am, I do.

What are your intentions?

My intentions?

Your Intentions.

What are they?

I'm going to rescue you from the clutches of your captor,

and return you safe and whole to the bosom of your family.

And collect the reward?

A lifetime of trial and testing of my faith.

I seen the lord of the yellow rock.

Lay a $1 million nugget at my feet, I'll take it with thanks.

Yes, ma'am.

I won't go.

What?

I have no wish to, and no intention

of returning to my family.

A child should be with their parents.

And where should be the kidnapper?

Because if you attempt to take me hence,

that's what you will be.

Kidnapper.

There's a legal reward.

The reward for kidnapping a child

can be no less than the eternal flames of damnation.

For those who worship the yellow rock,

there is no hell like life without coin.

I do not know, nor do I much care, why

you do not wish to return home.

But home is where you're going.

Just what to do with this sinner, I can't decide.

Hey, you can give me the reward.

You give me a good reason not to put you under the ground

right now.

Well, I did deliver Lola to your doorstep.

The holy golden nugget you spent your whole life looking for.

I call that reason enough.

But if you need more, you might remember

I did it when you lay low with loss of faith,

and looking to stretch your own neck.

I won't deny you a party to the events

that kept me from the rope.

But my clear memory of your role was not as my savior,

but to liberally encouragize my mortal folly.

I remember you asking for direct assistance

in that department.

I took leave of my senses.

And now?

All of my faculties have returned to me.

Then task your mind with the following question...

how many George Foreman lean mean

fat reducing grilling machines can you get for this nugget?

How many Ab Pros.

How many limited edition Hoover Dam commemorative coins

can you buy with a million dollars?

Now, you ask yourself that.

Because you kill me, the only way you enjoying that reward

is TV shopping from a death row prison cell.

We saved your life.

I asked you not to do that.

Not my fault you don't heed fair warning.

So long, kidnapper.

You some kind of sorcerer, boy?

Oh, you have no idea.

I told you, I didn't want to go back!

Hold me.

Hold me.

Lola!

Lola!

Take me, crush me, kill me.

I got you, baby.

I got you.

Never let me go, never.

Never.

Don't ever take me back.

OK.

What is this?

This is the morning.

This is bullshit.

It's the right thing.

It's not!

It's not the right thing.

You fucking asshole!

Yeah.

Hello, Mr. Franklin.

Ah, the kidnapper.

Let's clear this up right now.

Did you or did you not offer a million dollar reward

for your daughter's return?

For her rescue.

From the kidnapper.

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

No, I saw you on TV.

Now, what your wife said was, the reward

is open to anyone that returns our daughter to us

safe and sound.

And that's me.

I'm the guy trying to return your daughter

to you safe and sound.

Tell me where you are?

Not until you believe me.

I believe you.

Now tell me the truth.

Because if you think I'm going to listen

to any more of your bullshit, you don't know me at all.

Mr. Franklin.

The truth is, I love your daughter very much.

Oh, my god.

No, she loves me too.

We're in love.

I have

seen footage of you dragging my daughter out

of a goddamn church, no less.

The whole nation saw it.

Why do you think Lola doesn't want to come home?

Oh, she wants to come home.

Why did she run away?

She didn't run away.

You kidnapped her.

Uh, Mr. Franklin, if I kidnapped her,

we wouldn't be having this conversation.

No, we'd be having a ransom-type conversation.

We'd be arranging money, and times, and places.

No, we wouldn't be discussing whether or not she ran away

from home, or why the idea of her returning is so awful,

she'd choose a life on the run over the love

and comfort of her own family.

So I ask you again, sir... why did she run away?

You listen to me, smartass...

whether you're the kidnapper or not,

whether you're in love with her or not, it doesn't matter.

The only thing to do is arrange an exchange

where you give me my daughter, and I

will give you your reward.

My reward?

I can guess what that is.

Give me a time

and a place, or this conversation is over.

Time and a place, kidnapper.

All right.

Now, here's what you're going to do.

You're going to take the million in cash.

You're going to drive to Van Nuys airport.

Now, you take off and you fly east.

Stay below 10,000 feet.

You should be in cell phone contact.

Well, now I'm a kidnapper.

I don't know the facts.

But what I do know is that a man doing what

he believes to be right is the most dangerous kind of man

we got.

You really think they're going to bring the money?

I have no idea.

They're going to eat me.

They're going to stick me to a wall,

and lay eggs in my stomach, and it's going to chew

and gash through my chest.

And they're going to eat me.

Yeah.

You up in the air?

We are.

OK.

Here's what you're going to do.

You're going to turn north and fly low until you

see a big plane bone yard.

You see, you put the money in the bag

and toss it out the window.

That bag lands on the far north side of the wreckage.

You'll have Lola back safe and sound.

But I see black and white or flashing light of any kind,

you will not.

I should've let you die.

Mama's got the big gun this time.

Is she gonna shoot?

I wish she'd just get on with it.

I have your money.

But not your manners.

Mama, I'd like you to meet Lola Franklin.

Lola, this is Mama.

Come down here, child.

Ooh.

I like her.

In a few minutes, a plane is gonna fly over.

And from that plane is gonna fall a bag full of money.

My heart breaks for a child who's never felt a mama's love.

But when a child betrays that love, it leaves a wound in Mama

don't never heal itself right.

All that I have to offer you is in that bag.

Well, as a cash for kidnappee exchange, the plan's

got some bite, I'll give you that.

But you left your mama out of your reckoning.

And I can't pretend that that didn't hurt my feelings.

Two minutes.

Get in the van, honey.

Mama's going to take you home.

Mm hm.

Come on.

Here puppy puppies.

Come on.

You've killed us.

Why didn't we wait for the money?

Why didn't we wait for the money?

You just let mama take care.

You scared?

Yes.

Come.

Get out of the cage!

No!

You just cross your pretty legs, honey.

We'll be right back.

No!

Marlo, I love you!

I know.

No!

No, don't leave me.

Where are we going?

Shh.

Please, please don't leave me here.

I don't want to go.

Shh.

- It's gonna be all right. - Mama.

Marlo!

Mama, I don't want to go.

I'm gonna make it all right.

Marlo!

Scammin' and stealin' may well be the crust of life.

But there's only one meat worth putting in that pie.

Yeah?

What's that?

Why, love, of course.

Do you know what it is to love, child?

To tend, and cherish a living thing that all it wants to do

is cut you up to pieces?

I believe I do.

Oh, if you did, you would not have done what you did.

What you know is to steal and harm and hurt.

At that, you are an expert.

Love is something in which you need schooling.

That's not true.

Yes it is.

No it is not!

Yes it is!

I'm sorry, baby.

Look at me.

Look at me.

You gotta put your hand on your heart

for a true and proper sorry.

Will you do that?

I promise I'll do everything I can to forgive you.

Well?

I'm sorry, Mama.

Elaborate.

I'm sorry I stole from you.

For the dollars, yes, but more so for the hurt

- I must have cost you. - Mm hm.

My little boy.

You hurt me..

Yes ma'am.

And I'm sorry you had to come cross country and fetch me.

Oh, I am trying, Marlo.

I am really trying.

I know you can do it, Mama.

You've got a big heart, and I know it.

I'm sorry, baby.

Words alone are not enough to right

the injury you have done me.

You've got that big reward coming.

My heart's broken, Marlo.

You gotta mend that.

I will, Mama.

You gotta make that right.

You tell me how.

Tell me how to make it right.

You do it gentle, darling.

You do it real gentle.

Come to Mama, now.

No.

You show Mama you love her.

Shh, pretty baby.

Mama's here.

No, Mama!

No!

Where's Mama?

I'm not so sure she's really my mama.

Marlo!

Marlo!

You OK?

It's difficult to say.

What?

What happened?

Uh, you what?

No.

I don't know what.

What happened?

Speaking as a man that just unravelled

his own parental mystery, discovering

but little satisfaction in the experience...

you say your parents are monsters?

That's fine by me.

I believe you.

You believe me?

I do.

Really?

Absolutely and completely.

Hey, don't cry.

I didn't want to tell you before,

because I... I didn't want you to think I was all messed up.

But I am.

I'm all messed up.

I'm going to tell you now.

I'm going to tell you the truth.

You don't have to tell me anything.

I know.

Mommy!

Daddy!

So the real kidnappers are your parents?

You were a cute baby.

Alabama.

So is this the place?

I don't know.

You want me to go with you?

Yeah.

OK.

It's OK.