Big Nothing Page #3

What?

I thought I said, no matter what,

stick to the f***ing plan.

There wasn't anything

in the f***ing plan

about the blind guy's birthday

and the reverend in a pool of blood!

All right, let's calm down.

- Don't you need a doctor?

- Yeah!

There's a slightly more

pressing matter!

- What are you doing?

- He's crying.

Jesus, Gus. He's crying

for what we've done, for our sin.

- Jesus. Hail Mary, full of grace...

- Bathtub.

Goddammit! Is that part of your plan?

After you kill someone

you take a nice hot bath?

I didn't kill anybody, first of all.

Second, I don't pray to leaky ceilings!

Well you know what,

I'm having a tough time here.

I just drowned a man of the cloth

in crap!

- Maybe I should turn myself in...

- No!

Nobody is turning anybody in

Now did you know the priest was alive

when you killed him?

- No.

- There you go then.

How could we have thought a reverend

would have 200,000 dollars in cash?

The average savings of an

American couple between 35 and 50

is 15,256 dollars.

Charlie, Charlie...

Shut up!

Wait!

No! Rule number four -

never return to the crime scene.

It's Josie's card, I left it by the phone.

Rule number five - if your partner

is an idiot, forget rule number four.

It's gone.

Got it.

Ow! What the f***?

Ow!

Shouldn't we be going?

Aren't you just a little curious?

'Have a look right there.

This beauty, huh?

'How are you? '

'Look. This is for you, all right? '

- She's an actress, right?

- 'Shut up, all right?

'You like this, baby?

You like this? Right here?

'You like to feel that? Feel that. Yeah.

'Yeah. You know what this?

I am gonna carve your face up...

'Argh! '

'Shut up! '

If I didn't know better, you know

what I'd say this looks like?

A snuff film?

Holy moly!

- Who says Holy moly?

- Is it important right now?

This is why he was so keen to cop

a deal. He's part of a snuff film ring.

- We've gotta call the police.

- What are we gonna tell them?

- Look, if they find the body...

- They're not gonna find the body.

The septic tank was genius.

Look at it this way -

we may have saved lives tonight.

- You think he's the Oregon Undertaker?

- Who knows.

He sure as hell got what he deserved.

Charlie... Wait!

You mind if I come in?

What?

We found the reverend's body.

- It was an accident...

- This was no accident.

Someone shot him three times

in the head

and left him in his car

by the side of the road.

That's a hard pill to swallow.

Murder always is.

I'm sorry. Are you certain

that it's the Reverend Smalls?

- Oh yeah. We've got a positive ID.

- Then who's...

Who's what?

Who is... safe

in this godforsaken world...

- You family?

- Yeah... No!

Just a friend. A family friend.

- And your name is?

- Stephen.

Stephen Hawking.

Mind if I...

- You're watching a DVD, huh?

- Yeah... No!

I mean... did you know that DVD sales

have risen by 226 percent

over the last six months?

Well... no.

But I sure am 100 percent glad

to know that. Thanks for the factoid.

So, er... can I get you a drink?

A glass of H20, if you please,

Mr Hawking.

There's some blood on the floor.

- Mr Hawking?

- Yeah. I, er...

I broke a vase and, er...

and accidentally cut my arm

on one of the shards.

- Look...

- Oh, doggy!

That hurts just looking at it.

- What are you doing?

- Getting a sample. Standard procedure.

'Deputy Garmen, Detective

Wood wants you at the station.'

Copy that.

Detective Wood, always breathing

down my neck.

Ain't had a good poke, if you ask me.

I'm not asking, but whatever.

Well, I'd better get a move on.

Mmm... What a beautiful night.

You could almost

touch those stars, huh?

Yep.

Although, even if you were travelling

the speed of light

it would take you 1,460 days

to reach the closest one.

Is that right?

Well you are just a walking

factoid factory, partner!

You have yourself

a good night.

You, too, officer.

Oh... would you mind if I took a gander

at that DVD you were watching?

Curiosity killed the cat, Officer.

In my line of work, the cat gets a raise

and a promotion.

My nine-year-old loves this one.

Especially this part

with this singing cow.

I've got to admit, Stephen...

I thought you were hiding something.

It kinda looks like

something got dragged here.

You wanna come with me?

I need you to lift this up for me,

Stephen.

- Officer, you don't want to smell...

- Open it.

So much for the raise

and the promotion, Officer!

There we go.

I knew Columbo here would come back

for the DVD. What do we do with him?

- Who is in the septic tank?

- How do I know.

Check the papers, see who's missing.

And then what, Gus?

We killed somebody!

- Oh, you killed somebody!

- Well, you kidnapped a cop!

- Oh, yes, I did! What do you propose?

- I'm turning myself in.

They'll say murdered

the real reverend.

- I had nothing to do with that!

- So? What do they care?

Makes it all nice and neat for them.

No messy loose ends.

I'd bet good money they'll be all, "Gosh!

We finally caught the Undertaker!"

You'll be spitting fire and crying sparks.

Enough, OK? Let's not

make this worse than it is.

Charlie, how could this be any worse?

You're not going anywhere.

You're gonna shoot me?

I've got a family too, Charlie.

I am not going to jail.

I am going to shoot you, Charlie!

- No, you're not.

- Yes, I am.

- No, you're not.

- Yes, I am!

Sh*t!

Ah! I knew you would...

I wouldn't do that.

Who the hell are you?

Considering that I live here, young man,

the question is, "Who the hell are you?"

It's not what you think, Mrs Smalls.

We're not burglars.

Look... we have some terrible news.

Your husband, the reverend...

has passed on.

Considering I put three bullets

in his head

I should certainly hope so!

Mrs Smalls, you have the right

to remain silent.

- Anything you say...

- Oh, please!

So you killed him?

I spent years turning a blind eye

to that pervert's, er...

shall we say filmmaking aspirations.

Max and I felt we deserved

a share of his benefits.

- Who's Max?

- A real man.

We're going from here to somewhere

where we'll never worry ever again.

- Er... Ahem!

- What?

I think he may already be there.

- What? He wouldn't leave without me.

- He didn't really have a choice.

- It was an accident.

- OK!

- Shut up...

- Why don't you both shut up!

All right, where's the money?

- Sorry, what money?

- Two million dollars doesn't just vanish!

- Two...

- Yeah, where is it?

Oh dear!

I guess I'll just have to count to three.

One...

- No, Mrs Smalls!

- Tell her where it is.

- We don't know!

- Two...

Tell her!

We'll, I'll be!

I haven't heard Pink Floyd in years.

Well, pa, time to fire up

the old septic tank!

By the way, what happened exactly?

Sure. Charlie drowned the reverend,

who he thought was dead

even though he wasn't,

in the septic tank.

Turns out he wasn't the real reverend.

The real reverend was murdered

by his wife,

the woman whose head you split

with an axe - stellar timing!

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