Funny Money Page #5

-Other brother?

-Yes, that's Archie.

We were in the middIe of the game

of draughts. Draughts...

-You know, darts.

-Henry!

-It's no use caIIing him!

-Yeah, but, Henry...

She just can't accept that he's gone.

It's me, Freddy, Henry's brother.

Yeah, weII...

what are we going to do?

We're going to pray.

Yea, though I waIk through the vaIIey

of the shadow of death...

Oh God aImighty...

Detective, you seem Iike a man

who enjoys fine art.

Do you Iike MappIethorpe?

Excuse me.

HeIIo. What?

What are aII the nude guys

doing out?

Listen to what

I'm trying to teII you.

I went to

the Soho Art GaIIery today...

and "the" Madame Virginia...

Ioved " me."

My work, I mean.

She even toId me

to caII her "V".

CaroI...

this is fantastic.

I know!

If Henry Perkins is dead,

nobody's coming after him.

-Henry, you were not Iistening to me.

-It had to be Mr. Nasty who got shot.

So he's not coming after us.

What's that?

-Give it to me.

-HeIIo?

I'm sorry, I don't understand

what you're saying.

-Who is it?

-I don't know he sounds foreign.

What?

He keeps saying " brerfcurse".

"Brerfcurse"?

"Brerfcurse, brerfcurse".

"Brerfcurse, brerfcurse".

Case. Case.

Give me that.

I'm sorry, the briefcase's moved

to ThaiIand. Good day.

Brerfcurse, brerfcurse!

Brerfcurse, brerfcurse!

-That was probabIy Mr. Big.

-Who's Mr. Big?

-The guy who shot Mr. Nasty.

-Why's he caIIing us?

Because we have Mr. Nasty's briefcase

with Mr. Big's money in it!

Henry!

-You'II never guess what we just did.

-Never mind, Vic.

-We have to get out of here right away.

-We can't go now!

-She's right... Mr. Nasty...

-CaroI, you're bombed.

You're not making any sense.

I know what's best.

Oh yeah, Mr. Know-it-aII.

Then you teII me

how we're gonna make a break for it...

with NYPD BIue

waiting in the den?

-N.Y.P.D. who?

-Never mind, Vic.

But Gina's outside with the body.

Yes, who's going to identify

the dead body?

-Dead body? No, no...

-Vic, pIease! PIease!

-Say hello to my little friend.]

-I think your briefcase is ringing.

-Don't answer it.

-It's him again.

-Who?

-Mr. Nasty.

No, it can't be

Mr. Nasty, he's...

You're right, you're right,

it's Mr. Big!

-Do I know Mr. Big?

-He's Mr. Brerfcurse.

-Mr. who?

-He's the guy who kiIIed Mr. Nasty.

-He's foreign.

-Who is?

Mr. Brerfcurse.

He's Mr. Big.

How did he get

your phone number?

It's not our phone,

it's Mr. Nasty's phone.

-I'm scared.

-Why?

Because, I think I'm starting

to understand you.

Say hello to my little friend.

Hey!

Come on, guys.

-Vic, didn't you teII them about...

-Say hello to...

-Perkins Residence.

-Gina! No!

-That wasn't very nice.

-You don't have to be nice to Nasty!

-I thought Mr. Nasty was dead?

-He couIdn't be, he's...

-He is! I meant Mr. Big!

-Who's Mr. Big?

Here we go again...

Perkins.

Perkins.

Audio timeIine:
8:31 p.m.

Arrived thirteen minutes ago.

I notified the widow

of her husband's demise...

I offered coffee

and a sympathetic shouIder.

Widow opted for BushmiII.

It's now 8:
33 p.m.

StiII waiting for in-Iaws

to depart.

My poIice instinct teIIs me

something is amiss...

I feeI...

a danger Iurking.

If Mr. Nasty is dead, then

who's the guy in the front porch?

Oh my God!

Mr. FeIdman!

HeIIo, Captain?

Yes, Sir.

WeII, I am stiII here.

I know that, Captain.

Yes, I understand.

I...

I know you're hungry,

I'm simpIy...

Okay, Iet me just grab...

Yeah, VindaIoo, Chippatti...

Poppadom, Bhajee...

A IittIe sIower, Captain. This is

actuaIIy my first Indian take-out order.

So bear with me.

How do you speII VindaIoo?

Capitan? HeIIo?

You idiot.

Sorry about that,

a IittIe technicaI...

How do you speII VindaIoo,

Captain?

Captain? Captain?

He's soaking wet.

What did you do to him?

Vic hit him

with your birthday present.

-You didn't!

-Yeah, '89 Obrion.

-You didn't!

-I did.

ReaIIy?

It's a fabuIous year.

-WouId somebody teII me who this guy is?

-He's Henry's boss.

-WeIcome to our home, Mr. FeIdman!

-I thought he was Mr. Nasty.

He puIIed a knife on me.

Cigar cIippers?

What? Did you think

he was gonna give you a pedicure?

I haven't forgotten about you.

Coffee'II be a sec.

No.

Don't worry, he's aIive.

Grandpa's got a boner the size

of the ChrysIer BuiIding!

That's because

he's been using the stiff stuff.

I've been taIking to Vic

about using these.

-Gina!

-What'd I say?

It's not Iike he has

a major probIem, or anything.

Sometimes...

and onIy sometimes

I Iose my concentration...

it's no troubIe rising

to the occasion...

it's just that I tend to Ieave

the party earIy.

-It's too much info, Vic.

-It is. It is.

CaroI, what's Mr. FeIdman

doing here anyway?

I invited him

for your birthday dinner.

Henry, this is an omen. This is God

teIIing you to give the money back.

I'II deaI with God

when we get to BarceIona.

Oh God!

-We're dead.

-How did he get our phone number?

Because Miss Howard Stern

gave him our Iast name.

Birthday boy, that's it.

Gina, we're out of here!

Can't we wait untiI intermission?

Your phone's ringing.

Phone ringing?

I don't hear a phone ringing?

It must be the teIIy upstairs.

Maybe your ears are pIugged.

PIease. Give us a minute.

We're grieving.

-This is a painfuI time for us.

-Very painfuI.

PuIsingIy.

Hey, Perkins!

AIright, what are you doing?

Time is money, you know.

I'm out of one here

and waiting on the other. "Capice"?

HeIIo?

Yeah, just a minute.

Hi, mom, how's the Iaryngitis.

Yeah, okay,

I Iove you too. Bye.

Hey, snap it up.

You didn't forget about the rest

of your charitabIe contribution...

to my poIicemen fund, did you?

I mean, it's tax deductibIe.

Are any of you crazy ass white

going to Newark Airport tonight?

Because my meter's running Iike

a crack head mama's VCR.

Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Brown.

My in-Iaws.

-No, you mean the outIaws.

-No!

I know what I mean,

you know what I mean?

Why don't you wait outside?

I ain't hanging around here

aII damn night.

I'm giving you five minutes,

you got that?

One, two, three, four, five and "adis".

I'm out of here, you got that?

And I better get a fat ass tip,

you know what I mean?

They'II be Iess than that.

Here, here.

Take the Brown's bag, okay?

What, just one suitcase?

TraveIing aII the way from AustraIia?

Yes.

What are they, nudists?

Yes.

Crazy ass nudists.

He's got a point there. Two peopIe,

round the worId trip with one suitcase?

-Hey, are they nudists?

-OnIy when they take their cIothes off.

I'm just thinking maybe you and your

wife are the ones who's go on a trip.

-No, no, no.

-Where are they then, these in-Iaws?

-Chris and LesIie?

-Yeah.

LesIie's outside, isn't he, Henry?

That's correct.

And I'm Chris.

Yes, this is Chris.

My wife's sister, from Sydney.

Oh my God!

Oh my God!

My sister is from Sydney?

This gotta stop!

Enough!

Enough!

This gotta stop!

What the heII are you doing?

Let's go.

LesIie! Oh my God, good day.

-Good day?

-Yes, good day. Yes.

I was just taIking with the dingo here

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