Dead Like Me: Life After Death Page #5

Daisy was just spaced out.

Out, damned spot.

Out, damned spot?

Out, I say.

The thane of Fife had a wife.

E-I-E-I-O.

And a moo moo here,

and a moo moo there.

Here a moo,

there a moo, everywhere a moo moo.

Old MacDonald had a farm

E- I-E-I-O

I'm Lady Macbeth!

Baby, I'm hungry.

You promised me a lobster.

Of course I'm gonna give you a lobster.

All right, just wait one second.

She'll be out in a minute. Promise. Promise.

- Do you like her more than us?

- No, I don't like her more than you.

I love you. And I love you.

And I especially love you,

you, and you, and you.

Then let's eat.

Not yet. All right? Not yet.

So give us the money,

and we'll go by ourselves.

Okay. Um, could you, um...

All right. Uh, fine.

- I'll catch up with you.

- No rush.

- Daisy.

- Oh.

Where's my goddamn limo?

Daisy?

Want it?

Uh, I think you were brilliant tonight.

Oh, Mason, Mason.

Here.

You're a good boy.

Um...

Cameron!

What did you do

with my f***ing limo?

Had to walk home from the theater.

It was humiliating.

About as humiliating as your

performance tonight, apparently.

Where are you going?

Oh, I have to head to

New York overnight on business.

What's her name?

Goldman Sachs.

She prettier than me?

And a lot richer,

with a lot less attitude.

Oh, no wonder I have attitude.

You haven't f***ed me in days.

I decided it was bad judgment

on my part to f*** the employees.

- I hate you.

- Of course you do, Daisy. I'm a man.

Oh, you! You!

I really have to do

something about my hair.

Hello?

I'm here for Raul.

Oh, hello, hello. Come. Come here.

Oh, I am so glad you came.

Come here. Oh, yes.

I guess you are only client

left who has any balls, yes?

Oh.

Yeah.

Here. Here.

In case we need to,

uh, pay the toll. Yes?

Oh.

Coming through?

Mr. Poltergeist?

Yeah.

We have the yellow ones.

They're your favorite.

Hmm?

Let us pass.

Uh, how long has

this been happening?

- Oh, that we have been haunted?

- Mmm.

Oh, ever since Zac bit the dust.

Oh.

Uh, yes. It, uh, you know,

it seems like it has been forever. Yes.

Oh. Right.

The driver was having

trouble breathing,

and he slumped over,

and all of a sudden,

we were upside down.

Is he dead?

Sometimes

the consequences of breaking rules

not only punish you,

but punish others.

Can I help you?

I don't know what I want yet.

Take your time.

Okay. I'm going on break.

Don't inhale.

Have you

decided yet, ma'am?

I really have no idea.

Well, you've got your ice cream,

cup or cone, milkshakes,

smoothies and lemonade.

What do you like?

Just the lemonade.

Lemonade it is. No ice.

$2.50.

In ninth grade, I knew this kid, Marty Oben,

who ate eight banana splits in one sitting.

Not a pretty sight.

I think I heard that story once.

It's sad about this kid, Hudson.

Did you know him?

Yeah, we go to the same high school.

Oh, so you're buddies?

Kind of.

What kind of buddies?

- Um...

- Oh, that kind.

- Don't tell anyone.

- Why? No one knows?

I don't have any friends.

Well, then you should be

at the hospital with him.

I tried. Didn't really go so well.

His real girlfriend gave me the boot.

Well, what if he dies and

you never get to say goodbye?

You'd have to live with that forever.

I'm used to it.

Don't let his friends give you sh*t.

Don't be a wuss. Tell 'em to f*** off.

It's not that. It's just that

I don't want them

to think of him that way.

That he would be

with someone like me.

If he dies, then I don't need to

mess up their idea of who he was.

If he lives, then whatever.

Sh*t.

I gotta go.

What's that for?

Cab money.

To get to the hospital. On me.

Thanks.

Can't you give him

something for the pain, please?

- We've given him all we can.

- It's not working.

He's in agony. Please.

Sh*t.

Nursing supervisor to seven west.

Oh, sorry.

Nursing supervisor

to seven west.

Who the f*** are you,

and why do you keep following me?

Look, it's complicated.

I've got time.

This is a really bad idea,

you riding with me.

- I could jump out.

- What, are you crazy?

- Okay!

- Tell me who you are, or I'm out of here.

Okay! Okay! I'm George Lass.

- That's not funny.

- All right, when you were three,

I knocked your front teeth out

with a croquet ball.

When you were seven,

I burned your Barbie dolls.

When you were 10,

I swore I'd never talk to you again,

and when I was 18,

I kept that promise.

I think I'm gonna puke.

Do it out the window.

I just detailed the car.

Sorry I sprayed on you.

Ah, these shoes suck anyway.

- Do not. They're cool.

- What size are you?

- Eight, eight and a half.

- They're yours.

In elementary school, Mom made

me wear your hand-me-downs.

That's right. Every time

she would go into the attic,

you knew what

she was coming down with.

A box of my old sh*t.

I hated them. But...

You don't have to take them

if you don't want them.

I don't care.

But when you died,

she didn't give me your stuff anymore,

even when I begged her.

You know, I got a nice pair of f***-me

pumps back at home if you want them.

They kind of squish my baby toe.

Mom would be so pissed.

It's against the rules

in her grieving book.

Yeah, never let your living kid

wear your dead kid's stilettos.

Word for word.

That's cool, Mom wrote a book.

I don't think she really had a choice.

It was either that, or go crazy.

What about you?

Think it's pretty obvious

what choice I made.

You're not crazy, Reggie.

And you're not real, George.

And there I was,

haunted by Rube's mantra.

I couldn't have it both ways.

If Reggie was going to

get her dead sister back,

she would have to let go

of her grip on reality.

Delores, what happened?

Is Murray dead?

No.

No. Amy is suing

Happy Time for harassment.

- Why?

- Well, that's what I'm here to ask you.

Legal called me on my cell

when Murray and I were

halfway up Mount St. Helens.

Oh, Delores, I'm sorry.

I trusted you, Millie.

And you let me down.

So, until this matter is resolved,

I have no choice but to let you go.

Millie, you're fired.

Surprise.

Who is this?

I don't know.

Just because you're dead

doesn't mean that

I can't move in with you.

And just because

I'm dead doesn't mean I can't have

a splitting headache.

Come on, George.

Reggie,

you have to go home.

For Christ sakes, you're 16!

You have your whole life

ahead of you. Go home.

No! I can't talk to Mom.

Well, that's one thing you and

I will always have in common.

So, talk to the old man.

Dad moved. He has a new family.

Reggie.

I'm a grim reaper.

I'm way past

slumber parties and pillow fights.

- You wouldn't be happy.

- I'm not 11 anymore.

And I've lived the past

five years without you.

I guess I don't really

need you now, either.

You're right.

I never really did anything

nice for you when I was alive.

Why would you

think I would now?

- Because you owe me.

- Nice try.

Because you love me.

Okay.

Can I drive?

Yeah, why not?

Where the hell is George?

Having texting issues.

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