Big White Page #4

With bubbles?

It'd be like a little getaway.

Hey Maggie Magster. You're awfully...

What the hell happened?

What the hell are you doing in our house?

Mr. Barnell.

I believe you have something that

belongs to us.

I don't know what you're talking about.

You don't?

You hear that, Gary?

He don't know what we're talking about.

Guess he doesn't know nothing about a...

dead body in the dumpster

at his place of employment.

So how much did you get?

We had a life insurance policy

on my brother

and we could get...

one hundred thousand dollars.

You know, it's always you quiet guys.

All right, here's how it's gonna work.

We stay here with your little tulip in there

and you go get our guy.

You stay here?

Have the body and let's say

fifty thousand clams for our trouble.

You screw with us and we'll start mailing

your wife back to you.

Starting with her feet.

Paul! Are you moving in?

Just for a bit.

She'll come to her senses.

They always do.

Thanks, Mrs. Wherry.

Good night.

Oh, Raymond.

Would it have killed you

to clean up before you left?

State police! Open up!

Police? Is there something wrong?

Hello, brother. Missed ya.

Page sixteen, Paul.

You know what I love about USA Today,

other than the bar graphs

and the colored pictures?

They got news from every state

in the Union.

I was eaten by wild f***ing animals!

But you know, despite that,

I'm feeling pretty goddamn chipper.

Let me tell you

what's going on here, Raymond.

So where's my money?

Your money? There's no money yet.

They're still investigating.

What'd you get?

Fifty thousand.

I get half.

Sure.

You look good. You lost weight.

I gave up carbs.

I'm getting a health kick.

What you doing out here, anyway?

She not going along with it?

Who, Margaret?

How's she holding up, anyway?

We're having problems.

Any kids?

You still can't get one past the goalie, huh?

Well, it's best not to send

a boy to do a man's job.

So how come you talk like you do?

I mean, cursing all the time.

It's a disease.

It's called Tourette's Syndrome.

I can't control what I say. Turnip.

Really?

Congratulations.

You've just kidnapped

a handicapped person.

I saw on TV where people

with that don't usually curse.

They must have got it wrong.

I don't think so.

It was a movie of the week

based on real events.

And don't people

with Tourette's usually twitch and stuff?

I get it. Sorry. You got a spice rack?

Next to the stove.

What's that supposed to mean?

Nothing. Cumin?

There. There. There.

There, there, there, there, there, there!

And I'm not crazy.

It's a physical disease.

Sometimes I can control it,

and sometimes... I can't.

You can't. You know what I think?

I think this syndrome is something you

read about somewhere and figured...

"Hey, works for me. "

Ass. Ass. Ass.

You can completely abdicate

your societal responsibilities.

Say whatever want whenever you want,

and slough it off on an illness.

Ass-rimming ball sucker.

Maybe I should catch this thing.

"Gee, sorry, Your Honor,

I have this disease that makes me

rob 7-Elevens.

It's called I really need a Slurpee disease. "

You've never robbed a 7-11 in your life

you sh*t-eating f***-weasel.

What kind of a man threatens a woman

with a gun, anyway?

You are so faking it.

You should know.

Is this how you get your kicks,

you overcompensating

p*ssy little fart sack?

You better shut your mouth

or I'm gonna stick this gun right in it!

You don't scare me. If something bad

was gonna happen,

my psychic would have told me.

You put that down now, you little b*tch,

or so help me I'll start yelling

so loud, you'll have to shoot me.

A little help here?

I got Twinkies.

Honey?

You okay?

Wait, this is the important part.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

This stops now.

I was watching that.

This case is making me and you crazy.

Especially you.

I'm just trying to be supportive.

Leading experts agree that's the number

one complaint men had about their mates.

I don't have any complaints about my, you.

Dead guy's got a record?

Yeah, he beat some guy

up in a bar fight.

He broke the guy's eye socket.

- Honey?

- Yeah.

- I think you should look at this again.

- Okay.

You know, I've been thinking there, Paulie.

After we get her back

from these guys who grabbed her

do you think your wife's

gonna be able to keep her

pretty little mouth shut?

That'd be a first.

'Cause, you know,

crazy people talk a lot and...

- She's not...

... and I'm told that

if you say something to your therapist,

they can use that in a courtroom.

We can't afford a therapist, Raymond.

Still, you just might want to think about it.

Think about what?

All I'm saying is,

sometimes a man has

to make problematic decisions.

Cull the herd, so to speak.

Come on, Paulie, I'm just

I'm just f***in' with you.

Don't be such a stick.

Is that jailhouse humor?

Still...

Mr. Watters.

On the phone you said something

about a resolution to our claim?

Mr. Barnell, why are you staying out here?

My wife and I we're having

a few problems.

Well, that's kind of understandable,

seeing as how you killed that man

and dumped his body out

in the middle of the woods.

Raymond?

No, no, no.

Definitely not Raymond.

I thought it was at first,

but that's what was throwing me.

I don't think I appreciate your tone, sir.

My tone?

Mr. Barnell, you are going to jail.

I will personally see to that.

I think you should go now.

You are a liar and a thief!

Mr. Watters, I've had a very rough night.

Murderer.

No.

You are a murderer.

What happened to your eye?

Let's say you just step away from him.

You all right there, Paul?

I'm all right, Mrs. Wherry. It's okay.

I can drop him, if you want.

No. I'm all right.

I think you should go.

She can't hold the bow that long.

I got some fishing line,

if you want me to stitch that.

You okay?

Yeah. I'm great.

I haven't called the police yet,

but I can tell you it was certainly tempting.

In my life, I've had dealings

with diseases of the mind and...

he is definitely disturbed.

Watters, it's so good of you to join us.

Mr. Barnell was just telling me

about the last meeting you had.

I caught that, yeah.

And, as you can see,

Mr. Barnell has some concerns.

You don't think I did this.

- I would never...

- His neighbor says otherwise.

Mr. Branch, can I show you something?

I think you would like to see it, too,

Mr. Barnell.

Okay, see? Where's the birthmark?

Your brother's police report listed,

"large, purple birthmark, upper right thigh".

But I don't see it here, not on this body.

You can-you can see it here,

in the-in the picture. See?

So where did it go?

Did it just disappear? Did it all of

a sudden get better, Mr. Barnell?

It did get better, Mr. Watters.

It did?

It got better!

Well, how in the world did that happen?

Well... Raymond, when he came back

from Florida,

he'd had it fixed.

Laser surgery. Yeah, how like

you remove a tattoo.

I understand.

And it gone.

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