Dear God Page #4

Mister, your duck is dead.

- Dead? Gimme my money back.|- She can still pet it.

- You don't understand.|- Excuse me. Can I have your name?

- I beg your pardon?|- Your name, please.

My name is Zigmond Decker.

As I thought. I'm Inspector Anderson,|from the US Petting Zoo Bureau.

- We have a Bureau?|- Yes, we do.

The rumour about the duck?|It's alive.

Yeah? Look at that, pal. We've been|investigating you, sleazebag.

- You were hustling this lady.|- Thank God you came, Officer!

- Please! Step away.|- Step over here. Hustling?

Does this look like hustling?

Here's your money.|Is that hustling? Happy?

Listen, Zeitgeist, next time, I bust|you and your pets. Dead or alive.

I know the badge is fake but I'll do|anything to get rid of her mouth.

- Fair enough.|- Kid, wanna pet a chicken?

- The duck moved! It's alive!|- Come on.

- Olvera Street for horses?|- She lives down the block.

I was going to take them|to Griffith Park.

Forget Griffith Park.

I'll take you to a place with horses.

It's nice out here, right?

Trees, grass, stables.

I paid for most of it.

Good girl. Yeah.

I was right about you!

No, you weren't.

Good boy.

Yeah.

Well, I gotta go|meet some associates.

Mr Tom.

I can't thank you enough.|You are a very nice man.

- Hello, Tom!|- Junior! This is all I got.

You won't believe what happened|to my paycheque. Amazing.

- This won't buy my dinner!|- That's for sure.

You're soft. If you're gonna welch|on people, you should stay in shape.

Haven't seen you at the gym lately.

- Show time!|- Tommy.

OK, here comes Mommy. There she is.

She's gonna take care|of her little baby.

- Is that a racehorse?|- No, honey.

That mother is an exercise horse.

- He owes me money!|- He'll have it by Saturday.

I know him. He's trustworthy.|He's from Indiana, bro.

We are so lucky|to have seen that, aren't we?

Let's go find Tom. You got to ride|a horse. We made that happen for you.

Didn't we? There you are!|How'd the meeting go?

We wrestled with|a few really bad ideas.

You missed the whole thing.|She got to ride all around the track,

we saw the cutest baby horse,|and the trainer gave her a souvenir.

OK, that's where Tom took us|after the petting zoo.

- What's a petting zoo?|- My apartment, every night.

That's the happy little girl.|That's Angela.

That's the little baby that was born|when we were there.

It's amazing how nature works.

Yeah, many animals stand up|minutes after they're born.

- I don't think he's gonna make it.|- It's a little girl.

I've done that before!

It's not easy getting off the ground.

But the momma's helping. It's a lot|easier when you have a family.

- Happy Thanksgiving.|- Happy Thanksgiving.

There he is. Tom.

Tom, we were talking, and we thought

that maybe there were more things|we could do with the God letters.

- Why?|- Cos I been here 12 years,

and all I ever thought about|is lunch and clockin' out.

- So we want to help, Tom.|- I really don't think so.

See, the haves help the have-nots,

and I hate to disappoint you,|but we're the have-nots.

So what? There are|a lot of reasons to do things.

And the best one is do it for God.|He could use a little help.

Postal workers|could use a better image!

Yeah. Everybody thinks I'll lose it|and take 'em out with an AK47. Crazy!

They do it for God,|we do it for the postal worker.

What do you say, Tom? Are you in?

Out.

- Did you really bite a dog?|- Just in the knee.

finishing up work now,

who will have punched out early,

and a weekend of reflection

to be thankful for.

You know I'm nuts?

I'm alright till I start|thinking about these people.

Depending on me for their cheques,

hoping I don't deliver them|a bill from the IRS,

or a kiss-off from a girlfriend,|or a jury-duty notice.

Dooly, you're not nuts.

You know why?|I don't care, that's why.

I used to care. I start to care|a little, though, and I can't stop.

It's like with those addresses.

Or with catalogues. You ever tried|to deliver all them catalogues

in them tiny mail slots they got|in them apartment mail boxes?

You gotta fold 'em,|put 'em in there nice for people.

For some people,|that's the only mail they ever get.

Nobody ever said thank you, though.

Boy, you bite one dog|and they don't let you up.

"Here comes Dooly. Woof, woof."

You just can't care, that's all.

I care about myself.|Everything else is just an act.

You come to the right place.

You know something?

Sometimes, I go for months|and I don't look in a mirror,

and then I glance in one|and I don't even recognise myself.

When I had my route, I'd used to|look in this mirror every morning,

straighten my uniform,|make sure I was sharp.

I knew everybody on my route.

I loved that route.

Don't get me wrong.

This don't mean|we're like friends or nothin'.

No, of course not.

Yeah, well.

I'm gonna punch out.

They said you wouldn't use the|seeing-eye dog, or even meet him.

Sorry I haven't been more often.

It's not the first time this year,|is it?

It's just I've been busy.|I'm doing some consulting.

Freelance. I have|more work than I can handle.

Had to bring in a staff of 37|for the holidays. You believe that?

- Would you cut the sh*t, Tom?|- Can't get anything by you, can I?

Never stops you from trying.

- Ma...|- Like father, like son.

I want you to be proud of me. I do.

It's just, what are the odds|on that happening?

Still gambling?|Still playing the horses?

You know, I do actually|have a job at the Post Office.

Cousin Guy set it up.

- I had a dream you were coming.|- Please, Mom, no dreams.

You were with this woman.

She was not from the Midwest|but she was nice. She could cook.

There was a kid, too. Who's that?

I have no idea, Ma.

Gerard.

This is my no-good son.|Gettin' married.

Yeah, we've met. Congratulations.

Gonna take me to meet his wife|at Christmas, right, Tom?

Yeah, Mom, that's right. I promise.

Ma, you haven't seen me in a while.

Check me out.|Touch my face, the way you used to.

- Try it. I love when you do that.|- No.

Come on, lighten up,|it's the holidays.

Alright. Bend over here.

Yeah, you've changed... Tom!|What have you done to yourself?

It's Gerard, Ma.

It was your son's idea.

- It was his idea.|- Come here, you.

- It was his.|- You got me, didn't you?

I gotcha.

Mom wouldn't let me wait any longer. "

in Santa Monica,

like you always do. Love, Joey. "

"Gloria, why are you here?"

"Me? I'm in the miniature golf|tournament."

God, that sounds bad.

"I saw you from the freeway."|No wonder I'm single.

- Hi.|- Tom!

- Yeah. Happy Thanksgiving.|- Happy Thanksgiving.

I went by the store

and I just saw Joey's note|to his dad.

I didn't know he was back in town.

Just... I'm kind of in the mood|to see a family playing together.

God, does that sound stupid?

Well, look, Joey's dad,

my ex, isn't coming.

Then why did...?

He showed up Thanksgiving|a couple of years ago

and took us to play golf and so,

now Joey thinks every year|he's gonna show up. But he isn't.

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