Original subtitles

Provided by explosiveskull https://twitter.com/kaboomskull M_I_SForEver

The bar is closed.

I said, "The bar is closed."

What's the matter, buddy? You deaf or something?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait!

Paulie, Paulie, Paulie, hey!

Whoo.

Jesus Christ.

Long time, no see, buddy.

- How's it going? - How's it going?

I just about cracked open your fucking skull.

That's how it's going.

Man...

The place sure looks the same.

And so do you since the last time.

Since you fucking disappeared?

I didn't disappear.

I went away for school.

Oh, yeah, I heard about that.

I also heard you flunked out after the first semester.

Yeah, so?

So where you been since then, college boy?

Around.

Doing what?

Drifting.

Drifting.

Yeah, more or less.

Drifting after what?

Experience.

Knowledge.

- Inspiration. - Hey!

Did you grow up in a fucking barn?

I just finished wiping the place down for fuck sakes!

- Sorry. - Just waltz in here

like you own the place.

Haven't changed a bit, have you?

- I hope not. - You're still the same punk

who used to run around town with what's her face.

- Lizzie. - Who the fuck is Lizzie?

What's her face.

The girl I used to date in high school.

- Lizzie O'Connor? - Jesus.

Elizabeth O'Connor.

And it ain't O'Connor anymore.

It's Krasinski.

She married some Polack.

They went away to Winnipeg last year.

- So... - So what?

So why are you staring at me like that?

'Cause I'm trying to figure out

what you're doing here, Steve,

now out of the fucking blue

when you couldn't even come to the fucking funeral.

You should be ashamed of yourself.

I get it. I get it.

- You're surprised to see me. - Surprised?

That's fucking rich.

And don't give me that stupid look.

Just because you've been hiding for three years

doesn't mean I'd magically forget.

Forget what?

Don't play games with me, kid.

I... I'm not playing games with you.

If you don't want my foot

far, far, far up your fucking ass,

do not walk in here

and start playing games with me.

Do I owe you?

Do you owe me?

Yeah, do I owe you?

Jesus Christ, are you fucking kidding me?

Yeah, well...

You're goddamn right you owe me!

Calm down. Of course, of course I owe you.

Man, you sh... you should see the look on your face.

"You're goddamn right you owe me, hm!"

Oh, you think this is all pretty funny, eh?

- Yeah. - You ain't the only one

with a sense of humor.

- Hey, who are you calling? - Shut up, I'm on the phone.

Hey, it's me.

Yeah, yeah, I know what time it is.

Sorry about that, but just listen to this.

I'm cleaning up the place, I'm counting the money.

Guess who walks through the fucking door?

Steve.

Yeah, little Stevie shithead.

Out of the blue he comes in here

acting like a big shot, so, uh,

I thought you might like to come down and say hi.

I know it's snowing.

What do you want me to do, chain him

to the fucking radiator till tomorrow?

Yeah. So you'll come?

Great. An hour, good.

Thanks. And, you know, sorry.

Is that who I think it was?

You know, I better get going.

Oh, no, no, no, wait a minute, wait a minute.

Stevie, Stevie, have a seat.

Don't you want to say hi to your old buddy Stellie?

Stellie's coming here?

Mm-hm.

- In this storm? - Yep.

You're bluffing.

- Bluffing? - Yeah, I...

I don't think you even called him.

Oh.

You think you're pretty smart, don't you, college boy?

You think you're gonna actually talk your way

out of this one, right?

Well, listen to me.

The only reason I haven't

personally busted your kneecaps

is out of respect for your old man,

God rest his soul, but Stellie doesn't give two shits

about your old man or you or me or anybody,

and if he doesn't get his fucking money,

he's gonna take one of his smokes

and he's gonna put it out in your fucking eyeball.

- Where are you going? - To get what you came here for.

Recognize this?

Of course I recognize this.

He wouldn't go fishing without it.

But I... I came back for my dad, not his tackle box.

- Oh, Paul. - Hey, I couldn't afford

a proper urn because I had to pay for the funeral

and the cremation.

- Come on, give him to me. - Why?

Because he would've wanted me to have it.

Said the guy who couldn't show his face at the funeral.

Guess you were too busy drifting, eh?

Me? I'm scraping together money for flowers

and a funeral parlor.

I even put a collection jar at the end of the bar there

for a coffin because I didn't...

because I didn't want your old man to be cremated

in a fucking cardboard box.

You know, I would've been there if I could.

Well, you weren't. I was.

I saw them roll the casket into the furnace.

I saw my friend burn.

Why? Because I thought it was important

that somebody should be there when it happened.

So, no, I am not surprised to see you, Stevie,

'cause I knew one day you'd come crawling back in here

to collect these and the rest of his home

that's boxed up in my basement, by the way.

But don't think that I'm handing over a goddamn thing

until you reach into your pocket

and start settling up what you owe me.

That's not the only reason I'm back.

Hey, where the fuck do you think you're going?

I got something for you, too.

Oh, yeah?

How much you got?

I've got something better than cash.

- Better than cash? - Yeah.

Oh, so guns, drugs, booze?

I've got a story.

Story?

Yeah.

I don't want a fucking story.

- Why not? - 'Cause a story

has got no value.

You see this watch?

This watch has value.

You see... you see these smokes?

These smokes have value.

This bar and everything in it, it all has value.

Except that fridge, it's fucking busted.

- So? - So,

you think I can pay Old Man McCauley a visit,

pick out a nice new icebox and pay for it

with a goddamn story?

What does this have to...

It's a simple question, Steve.

I don't understand.

Can I pay for a fridge with a story?

What does this have to do with anything?

- Yes or no? - Probably not.

Probably fucking no way, right?

Right.

So what the fuck makes you think

you can come back here and settle up

with a goddamn story?

Jesus Christ.

You know, your old man, he used to say

you'd never amount to a hill of shit.

And I'm sorry to tell you, kid.

He was right.

What the fuck is that?

- It's a coaster. - Is it?

Are you sure it's not a fucking Skidoo?

- Go ahead. - What?

Take a look.

The Oak Room. And...

It's a bar in Elk Lake.

I know that.

Who gives a shit?

Well, I was there this weekend.

Once more for the cheap seats.

Who gives a shit?

- You should. - Why is that?

Because...

You're never gonna believe what happened at The Oak Room.

Can I at least tell you what happened?

No.

I... I can just talk as you clean.

You're pushing it, kid.

You know, I can just sit here and ramble on,

- and you go about your... - Hey!

I don't want

to hear it.

- But... - But what?

I think you're gonna want to hear what I have to say.

- Why? - Because

a story is worth a thousand words.

A story is worth a thousand words?

You know what?

It's almost midnight.

Stellie is gonna be here in an hour.

One way or another, you're gonna pay up tonight.

So, in the meantime, if you want to entertain me,

tell your little story.

Knock yourself out.

Okay, well, The... The Oak Room,

um, have... have you been there before?

- To The Oak Room? - Yeah.

- In Oak Lake? - Yeah.

What the fuck would I be doing there?

Well, uh,

the story I'm about to tell you happened a week ago,

Saturday night in the big storm,

kind of like the one raging outside.

The guy behind the bar, he was cleaning up,

about to... about to close up and...

Jesus, you know what?

This is starting to sound familiar.

Let me guess.

All of a sudden, some jerk-off comes through the fucking door

and everything goes to shit.

Exactly.

The bar is closed.

I said the... I said we're cl...

You can wait.

Uh, is, uh...

...everything okay?

Yeah.

I just need to warm up.

Well, like I said, we're closed, so, uh...

Yeah, is that what you call small town hospitality?

Look, I don't want any trouble, so...

Nobody said anything about trouble.

Fuck. I don't suppose you got a charger?

No.

Then how about a drink?

Um...

Come on.

Look, it's been a long day.

Please, man, I'm practically hypothermic.

Yeah, all right. What...

- What do you want? - Brandy. That brandy?

Yeah, uh...

There you go.

Your first day on the job?

Usually, when you pour someone a brandy,

you put it in a snifter.

You... you complaining about a free drink?

- Free? - Yeah.

This is what I call small town hospitality.

- Well, then, cheers. - Mm-hm.

Mm.

So, is that gonna be enough to get you home?

Not hardly.

Excuse me?

I'm a long way from home.

Yeah, okay, so, uh, what's the game then?

No games, but I am gonna need to use that telephone

if it's not too much trouble.

No luck there because, uh, the storm,

it knocked out the phone lines.

It won't be back on till,

I don't know, maybe tomorrow.

But you still have electricity.

Yeah, for now.

Fuck.

You're not from around here, are ya?

- No. - Yeah, so, uh...

What are you doing here?

- Passing through. - Well,

maybe you should just keep on passing.

Wow. There you go with that hospitality again.

I don't want any trouble, all right?

- You already said that. - And...

And once I'm warm, I'll be on my way.

Well, are you warmed up yet?

Look, I just walked

two miles through a blizzard.

My face is frozen, I lost my glasses,

I can't feel my feet, any part of them.

From the ankles down,

it feels like there is nothing fucking there!

Hey, all right, all right.

I'm...

I'm sure it's because your feet

are probably soaking wet.

You know what, just...

Why don't you take off your shoes and socks

and, here, wrap 'em in this.

Thank you.

Your second problem is, well,

you didn't dress for the weather, did ya?

Yeah, no shit.

Where'd you say you were from?

I didn't.

Hm.

Do you mind?

What?

Looking at me like that.

Like what?

Like I'm guilty of something.

Are you guilty of something?

Yeah.

Driving north without winter tires.

So, you are driving north.

Hm.

Ah, if you're not gonna talk, buddy,

do you mind if I do a little thinking out loud

for the two of us?

Okay.

So let's say that you are driving north

and your car breaks down.

But if that's the case, why didn't you stop

at the gas station just off the highway

and not here?

And, yet, here you are checking your phone,

showing me that it's dead, like that wouldn't have been

the first thing that you did when your car broke down?

You're complaining about your feet and the cold

and the fact that you aren't dressed for the weather,

but not once, not once have you mentioned the fact

that your hand is bleeding.

I mean, that's just...

That's a little suspicious.

Well, believe me,

nothing that's happened tonight has been suspicious.

Okay.

Sure.

No hard feelings, buddy.

Just... just trying to make conversation with ya.

I'm not here for conversation.

Yeah, I know, that's exactly my point.

Okay, look, I appreciate the fact

that you let me into your establishment,

thus saving me from the unfavorable task

of, you know, freezing to death in a snowbank

in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.

Now just because you are doing the absolute bare minimum

that any halfway decent human being

in your position would do, that does not obligate me

to confess the world.

Now trekking through the snow

has been the least of my problems today,

so until I leave, which will be soon,

you'll have to excuse me

if I am not dancing on rainbows

and shitting ice cream.

Well, suit yourself.

Thank you very much, I think I will.

Ahh.

What if I like to talk?

You just said you wanted to go.

- Yeah. - But, now, you want to talk.

Yeah, that's right.

Okay. What's that about?

Well, I guess I just changed my mind.

Anyway, do you know bartenders love to talk?

Wrong.

Bartenders listen.

It's the alcoholics that never shut the fuck up.

That much you should know.

Fatto a Mano in Italia.

Congratulations, you can read.

What, are you Mafioso?

Well, whatever you are,

you certainly do not let the weather

get in the way of dressing to the nines.

I'm sorry, I'm only laughing because that storm out there,

you know, the one that you walked through

in these silly shoes, it ain't so bad.

I mean, the snow is coming down pretty hard,

but it's barely below zero.

I mean, look at it out there.

It's gorgeous.

It's like a goddamn movie or something.

But...

I mean, if you want to hear about the cold,

well, I can tell ya about the cold.

You see, I'm not from around here.

I grew up on a pig farm just outside of Belleville

and, you know, back then,

we lived pretty close to the lake.

So in the wintertime, we'd get some

pretty serious wind chill.

Ice storms too.

And there was this one time that I'll never forget.

It was a night in January and, you know,

I can't even tell you what time it was

because I was sound asleep.

You know, off in dreamland when...

when, all of a sudden, my dad burst in my room

and wakes me up.

Now I can see he is in a panic.

It was actually kind of scary 'cause I had never seen my dad

so worked up before.

But without explaining anything,

he just told me to get my ass out of bed

and come help him in the barn, and then just like that...

...he's gone.

You know, as for me,

I'm still a little dazed and half asleep,

and I didn't know what to think,

but I could tell just from the tone of his voice

that it was something serious.

So I got out of bed, I threw on my boots,

and I ran off to join him wearing nothing but my PJs.

That's when I started to worry.

You see, we were poor.

Dirt poor.

We didn't have that many pigs, and the ones that we did have,

we relied on for the money.

And we had this one pregnant sow

and she was sick.

Long overdue.

And my dad was just terrified that her or her litter

were not gonna make it through the pregnancy.

And as I got to the barn, I could hear her squealing.

She was in labor, and my dad, he was just...

He was just trying to help her along.

Didn't think there was anything I could do,

but then, my dad, he turned to me

and he handed me this... this steel flashlight.

It felt like a block of ice.

He told me just to... to hold it steady.

That's all I had to do, just hold it steady.

The only problem was that I had left the barn door open

and now there was a wind coming through

like you wouldn't believe, and here I was

just trying to hold this flashlight steady,

but when the wind cut through my pajamas...

I could not stop myself from shaking like a leaf.

Like I felt like crying out and running back to my house,

but I couldn't, I just...

And that's when I saw my dad's watch.

I was just sitting there,

and I focused in on the sound.

I mean, at first, it was so faint,

but then it became the only thing I could hear.

It was actually kind of soothing.

I zoned in on that sound

and I pushed everything out of my head.

It must have worked because, well,

I made it through the night.

And the cold, well, it's never bothered me since.

Oh, I'm sorry, have I bored you?

It must be hard for you to relate to a story like that,

the way you dress.

Yeah, I bet you live in a climate-controlled

concrete and glass box 40 floors up.

The only reason you wear those stupid shoes

is because you never set foot outside.

It's just end of the elevator, down into the parking garage,

into your expensive car so you can zip across town

into another parking garage and up another elevator

and on, and on, and on.

I mean, is that about right?

Kiss my ass, you self-righteous country fuck.

"Kiss my ass,

you self-righteous country fuck"?

Oh, Jesus, I got to remember that one.

Okay, then what happened?

- What do you mean? - What happened next?

Oh, well, that's... it's not really important

- what happens next. - Not important?

What are you talking about?

Well, that's more or less the end of the story.

That's it? That's the end of the story?

- More or less. - Guy walks into a bar,

talks shit for ten minutes,

and that's it, that's your story?

That kind of shit happens here every goddamn day.

What the fuck makes that a story?

- Well, there's more... - No offense, college boy,

but that's got to be just about

the dumbest fucking story I've ever heard.

Well, that's because you've only heard

the end of the story.

I haven't told you the beginning.

- The beginning? - Yeah.

Oh, fuck me, this just gets worse.

- What? - You're telling me

the story backwards?

If I'm this bored by the ending,

why am I gonna bother with the beginning?

Yeah, well, the ending only makes sense

once you've heard the beginning.

Yeah, that's exactly why you should have

started there in the first place.

It's embarrassing that I have to explain this to you.

I didn't even finish fucking high school.

- Where are you going? - I'm stretching my legs.

The fucking story put them to sleep.

Well, can I continue?

You can only continue if you goose the truth a bit.

- What? - Goose the truth.

The only reason your story is boring the shit out of me

is that you're telling it like you're giving sworn testimony

on the goddamn witness stand.

You want to keep my attention,

you've got to skip over the boring shit,

you've got to pump up the action,

you've got to give me some meat to chew on.

What makes you such an expert?

Because I'm a bartender with a big mouth

and I know how to tell a good story,

and goosing the truth is the way to do that.

Your old man knew that.

Old man, pfft.

He ever take you ice fishing?

A couple times.

It figures.

Hell of a fisherman, wasn't he?

What's the name of that place he liked?

- Gray Owl. - Gray Owl, yeah.

Yeah, I went with him a couple of times.

It was pretty good.

Myself, I prefer Turtle Lake.

I mean, I got spots up there, the fish, whoosh,

they just jump right into the boat.

Did your dad ever tell you about that crazy day

I had up there?

I don't think so.

Must have been about ten years ago.

I had perfect conditions, right?

I'm the only one on the lake.

I'd gone the whole day

without a single bite, not one,

and I'm there for hours, right,

with nothing but a flask of whiskey

in my pocket to keep me warm.

Anyway, it gets to the point,

pfft, I'm ready to go home.

At the last second, I think,

"I'm gonna drop one more line."

So I drop it,

and I wait a second.

And I hook something, something strong.

I mean, I don't know what it is,

but I figure it must be pretty fucking huge

'cause this thing is putting up

one hell of a fight.

I mean, it's a battle, all right?

And it goes on, and on, and on.

And I'm fighting it, and I'm fighting it,

I'm fighting it, and the sun is going down,

and the wind is coming up, and I'm fighting it,

and I finally haul this bastard in.

It's nothing but a little walleye.

I can't fucking believe it.

No more than five pounds.

This thing fought like a monster.

Anyway, who cares?

I got something for dinner that night, right?

So, I lay it down in the bottom of the boat

'cause I'm gonna clean the little bastard right there.

I'm still so fucking pissed off.

But when I cut it open and I pull out the guts...

What do you think I find in that goddamn walleye?

A finger.

- A finger? - A finger.

A human fucking finger.

I swear to God, whole thing, right down to the knuckle.

And get this, there's a silver ring on it.

What? You don't believe me?

Yeah, no, no, it's a... it's a good story.

So what did you do with it?

I took it home, seasoned it up with some salt and pepper.

Fried it up with a little butter.

The fish, you jackass, not the finger.

What's wrong with you?

The finger, I threw away.

God.

But I still got the ring.

Oh, holy shit.

Wait, that actually happened?

No, you dumb shit.

My dad gave me this ring.

I goosed the fucking truth.

Do you get it now?

Well, thanks for the lesson,

but I don't think this needs any goosing.

Ohh.

I get it.

College boy's come here to teach me a lesson, huh?

That'll be the day.

I'm not here to teach you a lesson.

The day you walk through that door,

come in here and teach me a lesson

will be the day your old man comes through that door again

and orders a bottle of beer.

Ah, fuck.

I think the power went out.

No shit, Einstein.

- What ya gonna do? - What am I gonna do?

I've been on my feet all day.

What you're gonna do,

you're gonna make yourself useful,

go downstairs and start the generator.

Over there.

Go on, tough guy.

Where is it?

In the corner, just keep walking.

Where?

In the corner.

No wonder it's so cold in here.

The basement door is open.

Paul?

Sit down.

Sit down!

It's my turn to tell a fucking story,

so listen up.

Yeah, coming up, Gordy.

Did you ever hitchhike?

Hitchhike, sure, plenty of times.

Yeah?

When was that?

Well, when I was a kid,

I used to bum rides out west all the time.

Bumming rides from friends,

not strictly speaking hitchhiking.

All right, I never stood on the side of the road

shouldering a bindle on a fucking stick, no.

- I take it you have? - Oh, yeah.

Well, no bindle.

Yeah, I used to do it like a lot when I was a kid.

I mean, easy way to get around,

the price was right.

And it was safer back then.

People used to help each other out.

I'm sensing a story coming on here, Gordy.

I don't know, I don't know.

I mean, it's been a long time

since I even thought about this one.

I've gotta tell you, the other day,

I was in the garage and I was basically

just twiddling my thumbs.

As usual.

And suddenly I remembered something.

And it was something that happened to me...

I hopped into this one guy's car

way back then.

- Don't leave me hanging, man. - I don't know.

- You really want to hear this? - Yes, fuck yes.

Well, buckle up, because this story's worth

a thousand words,

if that's an expression.

You all right?

Shit, I've never actually told this story to anybody.

Tommy.

What?

What's the matter, Gordo?

Fuck off.

Fuck off all... do you need a hug, Gordo?

No, fuck off, fuck off!

Okay, okay, come on, Tommy,

knock it off, knock it off.

Christ, did you spit on me?

Who's driving you home?

- What? - Who's driving you home?

My dad, I think.

You want me to call him?

Why?

To come and collect you.

Yeah, sure.

Daddy's gonna drive him home.

Tell him he can come collect my remains.

Hysterical.

You're a disgrace.

- Am I? - Yeah.

You and your whole generation,

you get everything handed to you

and you just piss it away.

Fuck.

Geez, you're cranky.

What did you call me?

What did you fucking call me?

I said that you are a sad, cranky old man.

And you're getting upset

because I interrupted your little story

about hopping into some stranger's car

and giving him a hand job.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!

Come on, sit down.

We getting back to that story there, Gord?

Yeah.

Gordo's gonna finish his story.

- Come on. - Come on, let's hear it, Gordy.

Come on. Come on.

Piece of shit.

This little tit, does he work?

I mean, I've seen him pump gas at Bill's a couple of times.

Oh, that's really good.

Good for you.

- Why are you so... - Gord!

Yeah?

You were saying about hitchhiking

and there was that one guy and you got into his car...

- That guy. - Yeah.

Oh, no.

I was pretty young.

I must've been only about 21 or 22 at the time.

I was working up in that...

remember that logging camp up north of Hearst, there?

Oh, yeah, yeah.

Well, it was the end of the season,

like the middle of December,

so I was trying to hitch a ride

to get back home for Christmas.

Standing on the side of the highway

with my thumb out.

And I was just having the worst kind of fucking luck.

Cars are just whipping by me,

one after the other.

Nobody was stopping, and I'm freezing.

It was really cold and my feet were wet.

I was miserable.

And finally one guy stops,

so I run to try and catch up with him,

it's just one guy in there.

So he's headed south, perfect, so I hop in.

Well, I'm really, really happy about being out of the cold.

Well, I'm telling you as sure as I'm sitting here right now,

I'm getting this bad, bad vibe from this guy.

First off, he doesn't even look at me.

God, I remember it so well.

He doesn't even look at me,

even when I tell him where I'm going,

he doesn't look at me.

And it's still light out,

but I look over at him, and he's like in the dark,

it's like he's sitting in a shadow.

And second off, he doesn't say anything.

He's not gonna say a single goddamn word to me.

So it's getting kinda awkward.

Very awkward.

So I figure, okay, I'll do the talking,

I'll start talking, so I start telling him

about fascinating stuff, this, that, and the other,

and meanwhile, I'm getting nothing from this guy at all.

Not even an, "Oh, is that right?"

Nothing.

So now it's going from weird to like really weird.

Very uncomfortable.

Now, I've run out of things to say, so...

and neither of us are saying anything at this point,

we're just sitting there driving in silence, oh, my God.

And it just... it stays that way like for a long time.

So now I'm just kinda looking out the window,

I'm watching the trees go by and I dare not fall asleep.

And out of the clear blue, I hear him say to me something.

And what I hear him say is...

"So where do you think you're going?"

So I says, "Where do I think I'm going?

I'm going to Kirkland Lake."

And he kind of does this laugh.

I don't know if it's a laugh or not,

but he started this laugh,

and then he says, "No, after that.

After you die.

I'm gonna ask you again, boy.

Where is it you think you're going?

Is it gonna be heaven?

Or is it gonna be hell?"

That's what he asked me.

After all this time, I'm sitting in his car

and that's the first thing he says to me.

That's what he asks me.

Jesus Christ, what'd you say?

Well, I don't want to make things weirder.

So I say, "Heaven."

'Cause I suppose it's best to answer him.

- Yeah? - Yeah.

And he kinds laughs again and he says,

"Well, that's what I thought

when I was a little puke like you

and I was your age.

Back when the future was stretched out before me

like an open highway.

But then things happen, then things change,

and you find yourself going down on roads

that you never would have imagined."

And he starts going on and on after roads,

and I'm trying to decide, what do I do?

Do I just bail out of the car?

Or do I just continue to play it cool?

I mean, trust me, I wanted the hell out of that car

as much as I wanted anything in my life.

I was scared stiff!

Is that when you gave the guy the handjob?

Shut the fuck up, Tommy.

What happened then?

Well, really, actually nothing.

Just sitting there in silence

and eventually we make it to Kirkland Lake,

he pulls off after the exit onto the shoulder,

he's gonna let me out.

But I don't go right away.

I'm sort of waiting for a second,

because I kind of felt like he had something else

that he wanted to tell me.

So I took a breath and I started turning towards him.

And he's looking straight at me.

And he says, "Kid,

you're going to hell.

You are going to hell,

and not because you've been bad,

not because you've been good,

but because we all go there.

And when you get there, you remember this.

You come and see me and you say hello."

Fuck that guy, Gordy.

Yeah, Gordy, fuck that guy.

That guy is nothing but a miserable old fuck.

He doesn't mean nothing.

Except I'm that miserable old fuck now.

Oh, no, no, come on, cheer up, pal.

I'd flip a switch.

If there was a switch, I'd flip it.

Fact is, I've been feeling very strange lately.

I really have, like not caring.

Like nothing's all that important.

Sometimes it's the end of my day,

and I realize I'm still working on

the same cock-sucking oil change.

We all have days like that.

No, I...

I've been working there for 28 years,

busting my ass at the stupid garage.

Twenty-eight years!

Like, that's a long time.

That's a long to be spinning your wheels.

That's a long time to not make any progress,

and I'm telling you, I really believed in my heart

that I would make something.

I thought that Stevie would stick around,

I thought that Stevie would kind of

learn the trade and we'd build the business.

But he didn't, he left.

Didn't like it here.

None of them like it here.

I don't think he liked me much neither.

Shit, I haven't even talked to him for two years.

And I worry about him, goddamn it.

That boy was so impressionable.

I used to see it, he used to always be hanging

with the wrong guys.

He was making bad decisions.

Right now, I really worry that he's got himself involved

in some really ugly shit.

And me, just gotta look at me,

I'm falling apart here, I'm getting old,

and I've got nothing to show for it.

So I think that's why that story

popped into my head when it did,

because, you know, the guy was right.

You've gotta admit that.

I did end up in hell.

I'm in hell.

There's not really a goddamn thing

I can do about it.

So?

What do you say about that, smart guy?

Hmm?

What do you say about a guy who comes from nothing,

starts his own business, and then breaks his back

just to put his kid through school,

his ungrateful kid?

I wasn't ungrateful.

That's not what he said.

- He wouldn't have said that. - What's that?

He wouldn't have said that I was ungrateful.

- He sure did. - No, he didn't.

- Yes, he did. - No, he didn't!

Stop goosing the fucking truth!

Oh, I get it.

You just want to forget, huh?

Okay, I can play that game.

Let's just forget about all of the money you owe me

and all of the money you owe Stellie,

and let's just talk about how your old man

had to sell his fucking business

to put you through school.

Then let's talk about what you did with that.

You pissed it away, you flunked out,

and you drifted around until you ran out of money.

Meanwhile, your old man worked himself

into an early grave.

It wasn't the work that killed him.

What'd you say?

It wasn't the work that killed him.

It was the bottle,

and we both know who's responsible for that!

All right, let's finish this.

We are finished.

But you still haven't heard the beginning of the story yet.

It doesn't make sense otherwise.

Hey, are you listening to me?

Hey, if I tell you the rest, are you going to listen?

You can do whatever you want, kid, it's almost midnight.

So it was earlier that evening.

Bar's closed.

Closed or closing?

Well, it depends on what you need.

Well, I don't mean to be a pain,

I just... I've been driving all day.

- Pretty bad out there? - Yeah, yeah,

it's really bad.

Anyways, I can see you're closed...

Yes sir, I was just about to walk over there

and lock the door.

I mean, you'd be doing me a huge favor

if you could just do one more round.

Well, I suppose I've got time for one more round.

Oh, thank you.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

You're a lifesaver.

And you're a paying customer.

So what'll it be?

Um, beer, beer's fine.

Which brand?

Bartender's choice.

That's easy enough.

- You want a glass? - No, no.

Cheers.

Oh, yeah, yeah, that is...

that is exactly what the doctor ordered.

You just passing through?

Yeah, I'm just headed in from Toronto.

Oh, yeah? Which way you headed?

Kapuskasing.

Oh, Toronto to the Kap.

That is one long haul.

Yeah, tell me about it.

I thought I could do it all in one shot,

but it is slow going in this weather.

Yeah, it's brutal.

Whatever happened to that global warming

they keep talking about?

I don't know.

- Bring it on. - Yeah, ice caps be damned.

Hey, um, how much longer would you say it is

to the Kap, anyway?

Oh, I'd say at least another 250 clicks.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was during the day,

but that storm, shit, you could be driving all night.

So what's happening in Kapuskasing?

Um...

I know, I should apologize for being so nosy,

but I'm a bartender, it's my job to get you talking.

Right, right.

I just got some family business to attend to.

Well, if it's none of my business,

- you just say the word. - No, no, you know what?

After being alone in the car all day,

it's nice to finally have someone to talk to.

Yeah, I'm heading up there to see my father.

- Oh? - He's not well.

What's he got?

That's the thing, I mean,

every time I call the hospital,

I get a different doctor who gives me a different story,

so it's really hard to tell what's going on.

Yeah, I know what you mean.

So I just figured to, well,

I might as well drive on up there

and see him and meet those doctors in person.

Yeah.

My wife's mother died last year.

She was living down in Antigonish,

all by herself.

When she got sick, there was no one

to drive her to the hospital, cook her meals for her,

make sure she took her medication,

so believe me, I understand the frustration

of not being near a sick relative.

Yeah, yeah, I mean, I can appreciate that,

- thank you. - Anyway, driving up there

- is the right thing to do. - Yeah.

He'll be happy to see you.

Yeah.

You two are close?

We barely speak, but I mean, when I was a kid,

we were very close.

What happened?

Life, I guess.

I mean, I'm sure it's the same for everyone.

You grow up, you move out,

you start a new life,

and then a year passes, two years, 10 years,

and, well, you find yourself

so far away from where you started

that it's hard to get back.

Shit.

I know why you wanted that beer.

Anyways, it's great to get out of the city, you know?

I mean, the drive up brought back

so many great memories.

The sights, the sounds, the smells,

especially the smells.

That crisp, clean smell of the cold.

Right? So cold that it freezes your nostrils.

Yeah, it's been a pretty bad winter,

one of the coldest in a while.

Yeah, you know, the worst winter I can remember

was 1988.

Oh, yeah.

I remember '88.

Snowed every day in January.

Yeah, I mean, and that would have been fine by me,

but when the sun went down and the wind picked up,

I have never known a cold like that before or since.

You see, back then, we were living on a pig farm

just outside of Belleville,

and there was this one night

when my dad needed help in the barn

because we had this sow

that was having a difficult pregnancy.

But I mean, I was just a kid, so all I could do

was just hold a flashlight.

And as it turned out, the sow was fine.

And out of her come a litter of six, you know.

Five healthy ones and one stillborn.

Now, when that happens,

you have to get rid of the dead one,

otherwise it upsets the mother,

so my dad told me to take it out to the end of our property

and throw it in the forest.

He said that way the coyotes will come and get it

and they'd stay off our farm.

But needless to say, I didn't want to do it,

but when my dad gave an order,

you'd better fucking do it.

You ever been on a farm during a full moon

all alone under the soft blue light?

Yeah.

Well, I remember on that night under that moon,

the pig glistened like a dead fish.

I remember that it was still warm

and there was steam coming off of its body.

I remember it took a long time

to walk out to the tree line in the dark.

I remember the crunch of the snow

and the sting of the wind.

But...

...most of all, I remember the sadness.

That sinking feeling of childhood sadness.

So instead of doing what I was told,

I just... I just stopped and I stood there

and I...

I started to cry.

I bawled my eyes out for this poor little animal

who never had a chance to live,

I mean, I just...

I just wanted to be back in my bed, you know,

and far away from it all and...

But all I could do was just stand there

as the tears froze against my cheeks.

I finally got it together and I...

I said a little prayer and...

Well, I knelt down and I put that little animal

down on the snow.

Jesus.

Yeah.

That goddamn little pig was still alive.

But I mean, I was just a kid.

But I knew, I just knew that there was nothing

that I could do to help it survive,

especially through a night like that.

I definitely could not bring it back to my father,

because if I did, there would be hell to pay.

That said...

I couldn't stand the thought

of just leaving it there to freeze to death.

So what'd you do?

I picked him up, I tightened my grip,

and I snapped his neck.

Just like I'm gonna snap yours, you fucking rat.

Huh?

So he's dead?

Dead?

He got his fucking head chopped off.

No, no, no, not that guy,

the second guy, the well-dressed guy,

the guy who came in afterwards.

Yeah, he's dead, too.

Why'd he chop his head off?

He didn't.

He got beaten to death with a phone.

No, no!

No, not him, the other guy, the first guy.

Oh, yeah, completely decapitated.

- Why? - I don't know.

Well, it sounds like a hit, right?

A goddamn execution.

Gotta hand it to you, college boy,

- that was a good one. - Wait, what?

Goosed it up real good.

I didn't goose anything.

- That's what happened. - Uh-huh.

You don't believe me?

- No. - How come.

Because you can't snow the snowman,

you know what I mean?

No.

You say this really happened.

- Yeah. - When?

Saturday night.

- In Elk Lake. - That's right.

Then why haven't I heard anything about it?

Because the police are shitting themselves.

They're not releasing any information

and, I don't know, in a storm like this?

Everything just slows down.

It's not like the news caught wind of it.

Okay. Okay, I'll grant you that.

But let me get this straight:

You just told me about a crime.

Hasn't been leaked to the media,

police aren't talking about it,

for which there are no survivors.

Correct?

So how are you able to tell me the complete story

in such precise detail?

Well, because this.

This is the craziest part.

While all this is going down,

the killer is under the impression

that the bar is empty.

But it wasn't.

There was a guy, nearly passed out,

in the far corner of the bar.

He was hiding in the shadows.

He saw the whole thing.

And he didn't do anything about it?

Nope.

Who's the guy?

The aptly named Thomas Coward.

- Tommy Coward? - Yeah, it's funny

that you mentioned him earlier.

What's he doing in Elk Lake?

I thought he was pumping gas for Bill's two boys.

He was, but the brothers, they got into a fight

and split up the business.

You know.

I know Dennis from way back.

I was helping out at the garage,

and that's where Tommy told us the whole story

- Monday morning. - Wait, wait, wait.

You're saying that Tommy just sat back

and watched two people get killed.

Yeah.

But he could have intervened at any point,

he could have stopped it.

I guess so.

- Nobody had to die. - No.

And get this, not only that,

but you have to remember,

Ken was closing up,

so if he would have gone and locked the door

before he started mopping,

this guy wouldn't have gotten in,

and none of this would've happened.

But why Ken, what did he do?

I don't know.

Random death, you know?

You think you're on steady ground

and then the earth opens up and swallows you whole.

A guy chopped his fucking head off, Stevie,

there had to be a reason.

I guess some things just can't be explained.

I don't know.

Maybe he got the wrong guy.

What do you mean wrong guy?

Hey, where are you going?

Just grabbing my stuff.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, just wait.

Let me... let me buy you a drink.

You're gonna buy me a drink?

Take it before I change my mind.

What do you mean by, "maybe he got the wrong guy"?

I mean, from my understanding,

Ken was a... Ken was a good guy.

He worked 60 hours a week, woke up early on Sundays,

shoveled the church parking lot.

He didn't have an enemy in the world.

And...

What?

I don't know.

Like you said,

sounds like some kind of organized crime thing.

Like, "Bring me the head of Alfredo Garcia."

Who?

Never mind.

Just suppose you're a guy,

asked to do a job like that.

You're not from around here.

You're driving up Highway 11

in a snowstorm.

You start passing signs for Elk Lake, Dog Lake,

Desert Lake, Kirkland Lake,

and the other little goddamn lakes along the way.

One wrong turn, you're in the wrong town

at the wrong bar

killing the wrong guy.

I mean, it could happen.

Well, I guess we'll never know the whole story.

I mean, it's not like he left behind a business card.

Right?

Nope.

Except the name he said before he killed him.

What name?

Oh. Oh, shit.

You got me so worked up,

I didn't tell the story properly.

What fucking name?

Well, right after he smashed Ken's face in,

he stood over him and said,

"Jimmy Thompson sends his regards."

Jimmy Thompson.

Who?

Jimmy fucking Thompson.

Jimmy fucking Thompson.

Are you sure?

Pretty sure.

Do... do you think he maybe could have said

a different name?

In the story that Tommy told me,

it was Jimmy Thompson.

He could be wrong.

He was pretty sure.

Or you could be wrong.

What do you mean?

He could be wrong, you could be wrong.

Nobody's got a perfect fucking memory, right?

What's the problem?

Nothing.

It's beautiful, though.

Huh?

The snow.

It really does look like a movie out there.

Too bad you won't get to enjoy it much longer.

Why not?

It's gonna melt.

The temperature's supposed to go up tomorrow.

Do you think I could get that now?

You just finish your beer

and get the hell out of here, Stevie.

Provided by explosiveskull https://twitter.com/kaboomskull