All language subtitles for Homicide life on the street S06E08 - All Is Bright

You're upset.
I'm not.

- Embarrassed?
- Stu, I'm fine with it, really.

I don't understand
why would anyone call me your wife.

- She thought we were married maybe.
- Us?

We eat at Jimmy's three times a week,
always the two of us.

I'm a man and you're a woman,
she's our waitress.

So?

- So she made a natural assumption.
- She should mind her own business.

I don't know what's bothering you.
I would think you'd be flattered.

Oh, I'm too old to be
your husband, is that it?

I'm too fat? I'm a slob?

I spill gravy on my pants,
is that why you'd never marry me?

Give it a rest.
Cos I never said I'd never marry you.

Y-y-you mean you would?
I mean would you?

- Sure.
- Really?

Yes, Stu, I would marry you.

I would love you
and I would live with you

until death or divorce
do us part, all right?

- All right.
- OK, I'm gonna go in.

The victim's name is
Phillip Longley. Date of birth 4/7/67.

He left this on top of the dryer.
Still a couple of twenties inside.

- Rules out robbery.
- His neck is broken.

Hey! I give the diagnosis around here
if you don't mind.

- Go ahead.
- His neck is broken.

Got your murder weapon there.

Someone hits him over the head
with a gallon of liquid detergent

and he hits the machine
on the way down.

I'll have that processed for prints.

- Who found the body?
- Cordelia Evans.

She owns this place and
she stepped outside for some air.

- Want me to talk to Miss Evans?
- I'll go, honey.

- What was that all about?
- Don't ask.

Why is a Jewish boy like me kneeling
in front of the altar of Donner & Blitzen?

Christmas isn't even a Christian holiday
any more, it's all about retail.

Boy you are so cynical, Munch.

We're putting the spit-shine
on our bar here

to get money from the Christmas crowd
celebrating the birth of our saviour.

Hopefully visiting us in our humble inn
and knocking back a few brewskies.

Your saviour, not mine.

John, it's the spirit of things,
it's the gesture that counts.

- Gesture!
- Yeah, Billie Lou's right.

All of us working for the common good,
sharing our burdens, sharing our joy.

If we don't get some crowd
in here tomorrow night,

some drinkers drowning out
their Christmas blues,

we won't have any floors to scrub.

Yeah, listen, I'm out of here guys.

- What do you mean?
- Christmas shopping. To beat the rush.

Seen those bathrooms?
I've seen mangers that are cleaner.

Well, if Bayliss is gonna bail,
I might as well get out of here, too.

Me, too,
I gotta get a present for my mother.

What is this, John Munch's
one-man rag-mount band?

Finish mopping up this floor,
do the bathroom.

I'll do the kitchen when I get back.

Sure, OK. Have a merry time,
buying your pretty little presents.

Let the Yid stay behind,
clean the toilets.

Munch, you gonna make some poor
orphan a nice Jewish mother some day.

Chosen people! Ha!

OK, boyo.

If I knew that you scrubbed floors,
I wouldn't have filed for divorce so fast.

- I'll be damned.
- Is that any way to greet your ex-wife?

First my partners leave me
to wallow in ammonia,

then you appear out of thin air.

I went by the police station,
they told me where to find you.

Boy, you own a bar now.
That doesn't seem like you.

- Excuse me?
- I never did know what to make of you.

Well, a husband sure wasn't the answer.

Gwen, what the hell are you doing here?

My mom died.

I took the train up from New York
this morning.

I'm sorry.

- Really?
- Of course not.

Your mum loathed me
and I loathed her back.

- She didn't loathe you.
- She despised me!

- No.
- She disliked me.

OK, maybe loathe is the word.

We've reached the innermost
circle of the semantic hell.

What in God's name do you want
from me, Gwen?

Your help.

The only way I can see myself
being of use to you is if your mother...

- What?
- Foul play, a suspicious death.

- Some cruelty, maybe violence.
- Sorry to disappoint.

She died in her sleep, heart attack.

You win some, you lose some.

- You knew the victim, Miss Evans?
- He's in here every couple of weeks.

Mr Longley liked to do his washing early
morning when the machines are free.

- What time did Mr Longley come?
- About 6:30.

- Just me and him.
- Mm-hm.

Did you see what happened?

No. Sir. Like I said,
the place was empty.

Mr Longley needed quarters
for the dryer.

I go in the back to make change
and when I come out...

...he's dead on the floor.

I say, did you know
you got gravy stains on your pants?

- Yeah, I know.
- Well, those are murder to get out.

Excuse me, Miss, I'm looking for...
eight lords a-leaping.

- Hey, Bayliss.
- How you doing?

- Good.
- You Christmas shopping, too?

Well, I'm trying to.

I figure if I get a gift today
I might just make it.

Yeah, good plan.

Except my mother is impossible
and we have exactly opposite tastes.

She always accuses me of buying stuff
for myself and trying to give it to her.

- What do you think about this?
- That's beautiful.

Yeah, I think so, too.
I actually love it.

You do?
Well, that means she'll hate it, huh?

- You do catch on quick!
- Yeah, I do.

Well, mother might just have to settle
for a gift certificate this year.

- Right.
- See you later.

- Oh, you're leaving, are you?
- Yeah, I was gonna go.

OK, good. Hey, Julianna...

If you're not busy tomorrow night,
stop by the bar.

Yeah, I mean, we're going
to have a Yuletide gathering

with mirth, joy, trimming the tree,
you know, silly stuff.

- Eggnog?
- On tap.

- I'll be there.
- You'll be there?

- Yeah.
- I'll be there. All right, OK.

"I'll be there"? Dumb...

I've got an address
on Longley's parents.

Richard and Margaret,
4201 North Rolling Road.

- What's that, Irvington?
- Catonsville. Wanna head out?

- After we stop by the ME's.
- Cox finished the preliminaries?

She called and said she found
something, so let's go, honey.

- Did you hear? She called him honey.
- Mm-hm.

- You never call me that.
- In my dreams I do Falsone.

Yeah, I should have caught this
at the scene.

I saw the broken neck,
I guess I just got lazy.

- Whoa!
- What is that, some kind of disease?

- A chemical reaction.
- To what?

Sodium hypochlorite.
Otherwise known as household bleach.

You see it sometimes in children
who swallow all sorts of poison.

Is there anything else in his system?

Drugs, alcohol, fabric softener?

The lab's running extra tests. As soon
as we hear anything I'll let you know.

All right.

Mr and Mrs Longley?

Hello? Mr and Mrs Longley?

I'm Detective Gharty,
this is my partner, Detective Ballard.

I'm really sorry, sir.

Just last week my neighbour was held up
at gunpoint as he got out of his car.

Richard, please.

Round the corner, Mrs Finney,
stabbed in the back for $10.

Your son wasn't robbed, Mr Longley.

We found $40 in cash in his wallet.

He may have been
the victim of a random crime,

but we have to consider
other possibilities.

- Did Phillip mention trouble at work?
- No.

- Problems with money?
- He never had enough.

- Girlfriends?
- He always had too many.

How do we get in touch
with some of those girlfriends?

I'll look for his address book.

You want A through N or O through Z?

- Let's go back and get another car.
- You got it.

Phil and I had an open relationship.

You know what I mean?
It was cool.

My students loved Phil.

He used to come by and do magic
tricks, pull eggs out of their ears.

- How long were you two together?
- Three years almost.

Phil only got angry when he was hungry.

- Did he ever hit you?
- He threatened to.

But hand him a sandwich,
he'd settle down.

When we first got together,
he wrote me poems.

- That must have been nice.
- He couldn't rhyme to save his life.

Phillip was... wild.

- He was shy.
- I'd say vain.

- Modest.
- Tough.

- Sensitive.
- Shallow.

- Deep.
- An absolute genius.

A complete idiot.

Pick an adjective we got it covered.

Longley's personality was as varied
as his choice in partners.

He had quite a selection,
marine biologist, 3rd grade teacher,

topless dancer.

- Any suspects among them?
- Unfortunately no.

Whatever these women thought of him,
none had a reason to kill him.

And the detergent bottle?
Any fingerprints?

- Prints, yes, but no hit.
- And the bleach?

There's no doubt it's linked to the death,
but as of now it remains a mystery.

I got another one for you, the lab
results from your laundromat murder.

Phillip Longley was HIV positive.

- Hey, Mike.
- Julianna.

- Is that the Mahoney file?
- Yeah.

Falsone left it on his desk
like some exhibit.

I'm gonna whack that guy one day.

OK, I haven't spoken to you
since we talked last.

- How did it go for Lewis and Stivers?
- How did what go?

- Georgia Rae, the videotape?
- I haven't told them yet.

- Why not?
- I just haven't found the right time.

I figured I'd wait until after Christmas.

And then what, you wait till
after New Year's or Valentine's Day?

There won't be a right time.

- Talk to them and get it over with.
- Fine.

Russell Baker, Anne Tyler,

Gore Vidal, Peter Maas.

For the love of God,
this is not a funeral,

it's an edition
of "Who's Who In America".

My mother wrote some heavy literary
criticism for a while there.

- New York publications mostly.
- Oh...

So I take it that you'll want
our largest repose room for the wake?

Mm-hm.

- The inlaid mahogany.
- Mm-hm.

- The deluxe floral package?
- You bet.

Oh, wow...

- I can make some adjustments here...
- Come with me.

Excuse me...

You wanna cut corners

when half the celebs on the East Coast
will be here paying their respects?

- Family discount...
- Some other discount but not me.

- Bernie!
- No.

- When you had no connections...
- John.

When you asked your brother the cop
to pass on business cards,

to make a few quiet suggestions
to the relatives

of those recently and violently departed,
who was there for you, hmm?

- You're too kind, Bernie.
- Yeah, a real Mensch.

- What time is Mrs Longley coming?
- 4:30.

I'm thinking that you should talk alone,
sort of a woman-woman thing.

- It might be easier.
- You're not getting out of this.

Who would've guessed
the guy had AIDS.

He didn't have AIDS,
he was HIV positive.

- Same thing.
- No, it isn't.

- Detective Gharty?
- Mrs Longley.

I'm sorry I'm late.
Did you find out more about Phil?

Er...
did we find out more about Phil?

We did, er...

Why don't we find
some place less crowded?

Stu!

- My son was not a homosexual.
- But he was HIV positive.

- Yes.
- Now how come you didn't tell us?

In front of my husband?
I kept this from him while Phil was alive.

I'm not going to tell him
now he's gone.

Richard couldn't handle it.

- How did you handle it?
- The best I could.

For six years, I've spent
my savings on his medications.

- First the AZT then this drug cocktail.
- You knew Phil was infected?

You knew he had a lot of girlfriends?
This didn't concern you?

He swore he used protection,
that he was always careful.

And I believe that he was.

Except of course with Rita.

- Who's Rita?
- Rita Hale.

Isn't she the one who told you
Phil was sick?

No, we found out Phil was sick
from his autopsy and testing his blood.

There's the H.

There is no Hale
in your son's address book.

- Rita Hale?
- Yeah?

I'm Detective Ballard,
this is Detective Gharty from Homicide.

- Care to come downtown with us?
- You want to talk about Phil Longley?

That's correct.

Give me a minute, I gotta freshen up.

Just a sec.

OK, will you follow me?

- What's up, Ballard?
- Hey, Lewis.

Hi.

- Who's that lady?
- Her name's Rita Hale.

- What's wrong with her?
- She has AIDS.

- She got AIDS?
- Yep.

- You gonna go with her?
- Yep.

So... Phillip Longley?

- You think I killed him, don't you?
- You gotta admit you have a motive.

I do.

No, thank you.

See Ballard and Gharty's suspect
in the Longley murder?

Yeah, she's got nice eyes.

Falsone, you never
seen anybody with AIDS?

Never.

What's with you?
You sat gawking when she went by.

Not me.

I gotta get going to the courthouse.
Lopez trial.

You ain't gotta be there till 4:00.

It's almost 3:30.

Hey, Falsone, you can't catch nothing
by breathing the same air.

That's what they say. Like they thought
Thalidomide couldn't cause birth defects.

- Like they thought the world was flat.
- It is flat.

I got a kid, trying to get him back,
I'm not taking any chances.

Well, hold on, what do you mean?
Trying to get your kid back?

I'm suing for custody.
I want more time with Daniel.

The odds are bad enough
me being a cop and single.

Oh! You're suing?

Talking about lawyers and court cases
and the whole judicial bit.

Yeah.

- You talked this over with your ex-wife?
- No.

Hey, try and work it out with her first.

You love the kid, she loves the kid,
maybe she'll cut you some slack.

You don't know Janine.

- Hey, Falsone?
- Yeah?

- Clean off your desk this time?
- What?

I'm walking by, I see Luther's face.
You gonna leave that stuff lying around?

A little holiday reading.

- Just put it away when you're done.
- I'm not done. I'm far from done.

It's bad enough, I don't need
the whole squad room looking on.

Is there something in there
you don't want them to see?

Clean up your mess.

It's not my mess, it's your mess
and Stivers' and Meldrick's.

Hey, you gonna take 'em down
with you?

When I first met Phil Longley,
I was practically a virgin.

One year out of Towson State,
I'd slept with three guys, maybe four.

I was working as a waitress
over at Caf Jardin,

taking night classes in communications,
thinking about moving out West.

Phillip Longley
was like a dream come true.

How's that?

He was the only other person I knew

who put maple syrup
on his scrambled eggs.

When I saw that, I fell hard.
We talked marriage, children.

Then there was a blood drive at school.

I gave blood.

About a week later,
I get a call from the nurse.

You tested positive.

So I confront Phil.

What do you know, he's positive, too.

Son of a bitch knew before we ever met
and never bothered to tell me.

So I ask him to leave,
he leaves, that's it.

That's it?

Take a good look at me,
you can figure out the rest.

My life is over, Detective.

I get sicker and sicker,
soon I die.

- Oh, you don't know that.
- Oh, yes, I do.

Doctors say I've got five months maybe.

But they have drugs now.
And people are getting better.

Yeah, you're telling me.

- What do you know?
- I read the paper.

Me, too.
"Extra extra drug cocktail cures AIDS."

"AIDS no longer an epidemic."

"AIDS can't kill you."

As far as my life's concerned,
they're wrong.

I took their cocktail, Detective.

I swallowed 41 pills a day
for over three months.

Did my T cells go up?
They went down.

Did my viral load go down?

It went up.

Their cocktail works for two thirds
of the people who need it,

for the rest of us
it doesn't do jack.

You know how it feels
to pick up "Time Magazine"

and read they think medicine
can beat this disease?

You know how it feels to see
Phillip Longley walking down the street

looking healthier than ever,

beautiful girl on his arm?

You're telling me
this girl could lift a 64oz bottle

and whack a man so hard
she knocks him down?

She must weigh all of what, 90 lbs?

When you're angry,
you find the strength.

- We don't know she killed him.
- She admitted it.

- When?
- Just then.

He gives her AIDS,
she gets sick, he doesn't.

- Push her a bit, she'll finish the story.
- I'm not pushing her.

- We both know she's guilty.
- I don't.

I think she's too weak to have done it.

Admit it, you don't want to go after her
because she's sick.

And you want to go after her
for exactly the same reason?

- What?
- Oh, come on!

You don't want anything
to do with her,

you want to lock up her
so that she can't breathe on you.

- That's not fair.
- You know what's not fair?

What Longley did to her.

Look, all I am saying is, let's forget
about the disease for a second.

Let's treat Rita Hale
like any other suspect.

Well, we're all set.
Shall we go for some lunch?

You know it's gonna be
a hell of a night for me.

It's not lost on me how mom was,
I know she could be difficult at times.

- I think I brought out the best in her.
- Well, maybe you did.

You got to admit what an extraordinary
woman she must have been,

to reach the end of her life
with so many friends,

and so many experiences,
so much influence.

She did a number on me and,
no offence, I think she did on you, too.

I know she could be difficult on you,

but she wasn't like that
with all the guys I dated,

she actually liked some of them.

Briscoe.

Excuse me?

Lenny Briscoe, NYPD,

ruddy complexion, greyish hair,
shoots a mean eight ball.

You and Lenny in the old hokey-pokey.
He told me about the whole thing.

No big deal, I know you have
a soft spot for the thin blue line.

- Stop the car.
- We're both grown-ups.

- Stop the car!
- It's just a joke.

- John, I said stop the car.
- It's a joke, I'm just kidding.

Gwen, come on, lighten up!

Gwen!

Oh, man.

Gwen!

Gwen!

- How old are you, Detective Ballard?
- 29.

Same as me.

- Are you married?
- No.

- Boyfriend?
- Oh, I had a fianc in Seattle.

- But we split up.
- That's too bad.

Dating again sucks, doesn't it?

I wouldn't know,
I'm still new to Baltimore,

getting settled,
getting used to the new job.

- And you don't go out at all?
- Little bit.

Have you slept with anyone?

Once or twice.

Let me give you a big, big hint.

Always wear a rubber.

Listen to me, I sound
like a public service announcement.

I think they ought
to let me do one of those.

They got all them sitcom stars
with their fresh TV faces,

"Wanna be cool,
wear a condom."

I think they ought
to put my mug up there instead.

I'm guaranteed to scare
the bejesus out of any kid watching.

He'll run right out
and blow his allowance

on a whole case full of condoms quicker
than you can say Kaposi's sarcoma.

Phil Longley didn't have these.

- You saw him, he looked OK?
- Picture of health.

- That made you mad, didn't it?
- Yeah.

Pissed you off.

- Do those hurt?
- The spots?

- Yeah, they look like they hurt.
- Nah.

They're like big freckles or birthmarks
really, I can't feel them at all.

That's good.

They are ugly.
I tried to get rid of them once.

I met this lady at the clinic, she was
real sick but she didn't have spots.

She told me that with a toothbrush
and baking soda they'd fade away.

Tell us about yesterday morning, Rita.

- You followed Phil to the laundromat.
- What?

Where were you yesterday morning?

I was at the downtown athletic club,
swimming laps and lifting weights.

I was where I always am, Detective,
in bed at home.

- I told you, I don't get out much.
- I know, I know.

- We're trying to figure what happened.
- Phil Longley got killed.

- You had reason to kill him.
- Will you admit that much?

It's not much to admit.
Sure I had reason.

- And a jury will know that.
- What jury?

Put you on the stand,
they see what Longley did to you...

- You won't have to explain.
- Explain what?

It's OK. You tell us what happened
and I promise you it's gonna be OK.

Don't tell me it's going to be OK,
Detective.

Nothing's OK.
I'm still going to die.

That's what you thought
when you went after Longley.

It's OK if I do this, it's OK
if they catch me, I'll be dead soon.

You hated him.

You couldn't stand
to see him being healthy,

knowing he was gonna live
another 10, 20 years.

That's not fair, right?

So you gather up the last bit
of strength that you have

and you followed him
to the laundromat.

Is that how it happened?

Is it, Rita?

Poor people...

...people with no money,
no insurance,

would don't read "Time Magazine"...

...get told a healthy dose of bleach
would clean out the virus.

So they go down to their basements

and down half a bottle and end up
in the emergency room sick as dogs.

You poured bleach down
Phillip Longley's throat?

You hit him on the head
with the bottle of detergent.

Phillip Longley murdered me.

I murdered Phillip Longley...

Wouldn't you have done the same?

We can't charge her.

Why not?

- Did you get a look at this woman?
- I did.

You know how sick she is.

We charge her with murder
and she'll die before the trial so...

Refresh my memory, do we not have
an infirmary at the State Penitentiary?

I believe so, yes.

Are there not one or two inmates
who actually have AIDS?

This case is different.
Rita Hale is different.

From what you told me,

Rita Hale admits to following
her ex-boyfriend into a laundromat

with the full intent of ending his life.

That's premeditated murder.

Maybe Hale went to the laundry to
confront Longley about giving her HIV.

They fight, they argue,
he gets upset, he goes after her,

she swings the detergent
to protect herself,

and he hits his head on the way
down to the floor, that is self-defence.

Except that she poured bleach
down his throat.

Which, according to ME,
wouldn't have killed him.

And you think Assistant State Attorney
Ed Danvers is going to buy that?

Forget it.

Charge Rita Hale
with first-degree murder

and let her spend her last Christmas
in jail, I don't care.

- Have you ever been to Italy?
- No.

In Italy, a person with AIDS
can't be sent to prison.

- What that's like an actual law?
- Yes, it was a law.

A man in Milan had full blown AIDS.
He robbed 11 banks in one summer.

Each time they caught him,
each time they let him go.

You know the Italians are expert
at live and let live.

So you're saying
we should let Hale go?

What I'm saying is this isn't Italy.

When in Rome do as the Romans do,
when in Baltimore do as I tell you to.

We're charging her
with Longley's murder.

Merry Christmas, Lieutenant.

Buon Natale, Detective.

I can't believe she's dead!

- How you doing, Gwen?
- You're late.

God, that's Peter Maas. He wrote that
book about Sam "The Bull" Gravano.

- He's one of my heroes.
- I must've made 200 phone calls.

I mean, I just don't understand,
because she has all these friends,

and she's got
all these business associates

and the charity work and now
she's laid out in an empty room.

It's not empty there's...
there's you and me and...

that woman crying in there
and not to mention...

- Excuse me, sir? Are you?
- Yes, I am. Peter Maas.

Gwen, check it out,
Mr Peter Maas himself, the man.

I made over 200 calls.

- You must've come a long way.
- I came down from New York.

- How did you know Mrs Talbot?
- She reviewed a couple of my books.

So you came to pay respects
to a literary colleague

who explicated your work
to the wider world, that's beautiful.

To tell you the truth, I came here
to have the last laugh

on a petty, vindictive, parasitic old hack.

Excuse me?

Mrs Talbot was the queen of book chat,

a purveyor of everything that's
superficial, meretricious and banal.

Her own prose
was bloated and hackneyed.

She wouldn't know good writing
if were tattooed on her forehead.

And yet, you came to the funeral.

Yes, I did, and now that I'm satisfied
that she's really deceased,

it's time for a small celebration.

- Now, if you'll excuse me.
- Yeah, certainly.

There's a sweet old lady in there
crying her eyes out.

- Yeah, that's Mrs Brumbaum.
- Mrs Brumbaum and she's grieving.

She's working. Bernie gave her
40 bucks to wail like a banshee.

- She's a shiel?
- Part of the deluxe floral package.

For an extra 20 bucks I'm told
that she will throw herself on the coffin.

I gotta talk to you.

- Have to be now?
- Yes.

- Have to be here?
- Yes.

So make it quick.

Georgia Ray Mahoney says
she has a tape of Luther's shooting.

- What?
- A videotape.

Don't play around with me.

- She may be playing us, I don't know.
- What do you mean, you don't know?

She either got a videotape or she ain't.
There ain't no middle ground.

I talked to the manager of Luther's
building. There were eight cameras.

Even if she has a tape,
we don't know what's on it.

What do you mean?

"Kellerman ices dealer."
News at 11:00.

He had the gun in his hand.

He had it in his hand, on my head,
on the floor, down his pants.

We're gonna know soon enough exactly
where the hell that gun was.

- I gotta go tell Stivers.
- What, no!

No?

Huh? You ain't the only one
the camera caught, huh?

Me and Stivers are in this, too.

If this gets out, it's our asses
on the line also. Come on.

There you are.

I should've backed you up in there.

Yeah you should've.

- I do like Rita Hale.
- Stu, it's OK.

I understand why she did what she did.

I just don't think
that she should get away with it.

Yeah, you and G, both.

Hey.

I'm more worried about Alisa Hart
than I am Rita Hale.

- Alisa Hart?
- Yeah.

And Elizabeth Ling,
Tory Olson, Stephanie Redman.

How many of Longley's girlfriends knew
he was HIV positive?

- Supposedly, he was careful.
- Like he was with Rita?

You think we should tell them?

Yeah, I think that we have to.

I'd like to help you, doctor
Yes, I really, really would

But the din in my head
It's too much and it's no good

I'm standing in a windy tunnel
Shouting through the roar

And I'd like to give the information
You're asking for

But blood makes noise

It's a ringing in my ear

Blood makes noise

And I can't really hear you
In the thickening of fear

I think that you might want to know
The details and the facts

But there's something in my blood
Denies the memory of the acts

So just forget it Doc, I think
It's really cool that you're concerned

But we'll have to try again
After the silence has returned

Cos blood makes noise

It's a-ringing in my ear

Blood makes noise

And I can't really hear you
In the thickening of fear

I'd like to help you, doctor
Yes, I really, really would

But the din in my head
It's too much and it's no good

Blood makes noise

It's a-ringing in my ear

And I can't really hear you
In the thickening of fear

Yes, blood makes noise
It's a-ringing in my ear

And I can't really hear you
In the thickening of fear

Blood makes noise

Blood makes noise...

- Hey, Cox.
- Hey, Laura.

I left one of my notebooks here.

Yeah, I was wondering whose that was.

- It's over by the sink there.
- Great.

So, slow night, huh?

Is it ever?

I tell you I never get spooked
in here until it's quite this empty.

Well, I wouldn't think
you'd be afraid of anything.

Me? What, are you crazy?

Big scaredy cat.

Hate spiders, afraid of flying.

You ever worry about AIDS?

Are you scared
about getting infected?

I'm careful, I take precautions.

Are you thinking
about the Longley case?

No, it's not about the case.

So, what it's about,
our fine boys of Baltimore?

Yeah.

So you've managed to find one
with all his teeth, I see.

Hasn't been that easy.

So what, now you're scared?

Well, I wasted three years
of my life

engaged to this guy
who turned out to be a complete idiot.

Er... and now that I'm out there,
I'm cautious.

When it comes to men, I don't know
if I trust my own judgement.

Well, I mean, if it's any help at all,
I definitely don't trust mine.

So you get tested a lot, then?

Oh, yeah, every twelve weeks.

Wow.

Merry Christmas, Frank.

Hey, Merry Christmas.

OK, I'm out of here.

It's still early, Pembleton.
Where's your Christmas spirit?

I got plenty of Christmas spirit,
I'm a regular Santa Claus.

- Yeah?
- Yeah, I have two kids.

This holiday takes on epic proportions.
So I'm heading home direct.

- Merry Christmas, all.
- Merry Christmas, Frank!

- My mom was oppressive.
- Not really.

Oh, yeah. She was arrogant and
self-centred, had to have her own way.

- She was very well read.
- Come on, you're defending her now?

Well, she had you,
that gets points in my book.

She hated you,
she tried everything to break us up,

and she played the same games
with everybody in her life,

which is why the final send-off features
one slightly hostile ex-son-in-law,

one vengeful author

and a rented wailer.

She didn't even have a eulogy.

Can I get your attention,
everyone, please?

- Turn off the music!
- I'd like to propose a toast...

- A round for everybody?
- No, thank you, Billie Lou.

This evening
a solemn ceremony was held

to convey the mortal remains
of Genevive Talbot to a better place.

She was a strong women,
possessed of many opinions.

She lived on her own terms.

She had a daughter,
a beautiful daughter,

who took as her husband a charming
if somewhat peculiar young man.

Genevive Talbot so loved her daughter
and so feared for her happiness

that she did everything she could
to discourage this unlikely union

for the man was hopelessly peculiar
and... quite perverse.

And the daughter,

she was a rare gift
and deserved much, much better.

- To mom.
- To mom!

May she rest in peace.

Thank you.

Er, Julianna!

- Hey!
- Got you something.

Oh!

- Merry Christmas.
- Thanks, Bayliss.

You look like a crazed leprechaun,
I can't take you seriously.

- I'm glad I wore that all night.
- Yes, certainly.

- I can't believe this.
- It's just something...

Wait, don't... You didn't see it?
- No. No.

- How much?
- Almost, but...

Yeah.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

Hey, everybody,
it's time to light the tree.

I'd like to help you, doctor
Yes, I really, really would

But the din in my head
It's too much and it's no good

I'm standing in a windy tunnel
Shouting through the roar

And I'd like to give the information
You're asking for

But blood makes noise

It's a-ringing in my ear

Blood makes noise

And I can't really hear you
In the thickening of fear...