I Love Trouble

Come on, Hallie.

Wait up!

I'm Catching up.

The Lord is my shepherd.

I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down

in green pastures.

He leadeth me beside

the still waters.

He restoreth my soul.

Yea, though I walk through

the valley of the shadow of death...

I will fear no evil,

for Thou art with me.

Thy rod and Thy staff,

they comfort me.

My cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall

follow me all the days of my life...

and I shall dwell in the house

of the Lord forever.

Amen.

May I have your attention,

please?

Midrail announces the boarding

of train 417, the Wisconsin Badger...

scheduled to depart

at 5.'45...

now receiving passengers

on Track S.

Isn't she beautiful, huh?

Nice camera work, Dad.

Don't call us.

They said the kids are going to fill up

this car, but the last one is still empty.

Thank you.

- Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad.

- Bye. Bye now.

Thanks for the ride.

I can't tell you how much

I enjoyed meeting you.

The pleasure was all mine.

Peter!

You never did autograph

your book.

Take care.

- Hey, Peter, how's it goin"?

- Hey!

He's here.

Gotta go.

- Hi, Peter.

- Hello.

Hey, Brackett!

- Hey, Peter.

- Hello.

- Hey, stranger!

- Hey, Jay.

- He was due here a half hour ago.

- Oh, no!

I'm sure he'll be here any minute.

Please, be patient.

- Damn!

- He'll be here. Wait, wait.

Peter Brackett's office.

Who are all those people

in Peter Brackett's office?

I can't wait around

all morning.

Your publicist. A guy with a gripe

from Alderman Cvack's office.

A jockey.

You're buying a race horse?

Do you know that your column's

due in nine minutes?

- This could be a record, even for you.

- I know, I know. Just tell...

- I want to talk to him. Give me the phone.

- Just tell the jockey that I'm gonna talk...

Peter, it's me. Listen, honey. I can't keep

setting up these prestigious book signings...

if you're gonna disappear

five minutes into the affair.

And who'd you disappear with, anyway? The

blonde with the legs up the kazoo or the...

Lindy, just give me a little credit. I got

food poisoning from the hors d'oeuvres.

- I'm in bed. I can barely speak.

- Mm-hmm.

Brackett, you're killing me.

It's written.

I swear you'll have it in three minutes.

You tell him we're gonna stop by later,

all right? Can you believe this guy?

Brilliant, charming,

undependable.

Shopping Center Shootout

Leaves One Teen Dead.

- Jeannie, didn't I once do a column about...

- July '85.

Scroll that.

Let's get down to

Johnny Got A Gun.

Okay, Johnny Got A Gun.

This works, this works.

Just brilliant. You're brilliant,

Brackett. Just brilliant.

Matt, we got a bullet.

- Where's Shapiro? Shapiro!

- She left.

- Where's Knobloch?

- Covering a fire in Winnetka.

Another minute, you would've missed

the syndicate. Where's Jake?

Went home with a 103 fever,

Mr. Greenfield.

- Suzie!

- Right here.

Get me Varney at home, or Kovler.

He lives out that way.

I'm going to a dinner party.

Do you have the address?

Right here. Cocktails at 7:00. Dinner

at 8:
00. Also don't forget tomorrow.

Good Day, Chicago. You're the

first guest, so don't be late.

Varney's wife is having a baby.

Kovler is not home, and Jake's temperature's up to 104.

Don't give me that hound dog look.

I don't cover the beat anymore.

And I don't print

recycled columns.

I can't believe what I'm hearing.

Now, are you actually accusing me...

- of plagiarizing myself?

- Suzie!

Pull up Brackett's columns

from the mid-'80s.

Something with gun

in the title.

Guns Cf Something.

Gun Shy. Son Of A Gun.

Johnny Got A Gun. That's it.

Uh-huh. I'm right. He knows it.

Who's that with the groom?

Is that Peter Brackett?

Oh, man. What's goin' on here?

He's the last person

we need talkin' to our only eyewitness.

- I don't know how Brackett got to him, sir.

- All right.

- Let's just pull the kid outta there, please.

- Okay.

Then what happened

after everything jolted?

I was knocked down and...

when I got up, Amy's car

was loose. It was...

- Who's Peter Brackett got?

- It was like it was flyin'.

- It was just gone.

- Let's get you outta here, kid.

- Okay, Brackett.

- Better put this kid on ice

if you want him in one piece.

All right, that's it, folks.

Give us some room.

If we could just have

a full name, sir.

Anything that we can start?

We need some details here, if we could.

Andy, Andy. Who's that?

- What, at the police car?

- Yeah.

You're the third guy

to ask me about her. Uh...

I've never seen her before, but I hear

she's working for the Globe.

Come on, come on!

Grab the Walkie-talkie.

Let's go!

Ladies and gentlemen,

at the present time...

we're attempting to piece

together the chain of events...

that led to the derailment

of Midrail's 417.

From what we've been able to ascertain,

the last car uncoupled at 5:59 p.m.

It traveled down this incline

where it overturned.

There are five

known fatalities.

They're not gonna

tell you that.

Excuse me?

Your question. Don't ask it. They're not

gonna tell you who serviced the train.

- These cars are inspected on a daily basis.

- Really? Why is that?

Because they want to talk to him

before you do!

- It can't hurt to ask.

- No, no, no, no.

It always hurts to ask questions

you know will piss 'em off.

- Uh, yes, yes. The lady in the back.

- Sabrina Peterson from the Globe.

Do you have the name of the individual

who last serviced the train?

That information is not

available at this time.

- Then could you tell us...

- Yes, Cynthia.

First day on the job?

- No, it's not my first day on the job.

- Huh? Second?

Look, all I'm tryin' to say is that

if you'd been in town any longer...

I'm sure we would've met.

And had I seen you,

we would've.

My name's Brackett. I work for the

Chronicle. Where're you from, Peterson?

Look, I realize every

cub reporter in a skirt...

must go ga-ga at the great

Peter Brackett approaching them...

but I can't believe you're trying to hit

on me while I'm covering a story.

So let me set you straight. You have zero

chance of scoring here. Trust me. Move on.

I'm sorry. Where'd you say

you're from? Bitchville?

All right,

last question, please.

Yes, was there a data recorder

on the train? And if so...

when will that tape

be made available?

Hang in there, Peterson.

Yes, there is a data recorder

on the train.

Now, when it's gonna be available,

I can't say.

How long before

the line will be open?

Our inspectors are here now.

We'll have that for you shortly.

- Found him.

- All right, thank you, folks.

That's it. Thank you.

- Ray Boggs?

- Uh, yes, sir.

Uh, let's talk about what happened

tonight, Ray. Is this your wife?

Uh, yes, yes. Yes it is.

Well, uh, would you mind waiting here,

Mrs. Boggs?

- We won't be long.

- Sure, I'll wait.

Thank you.

Sorry to bother you,

but I think I've got a scoop.

Hey, bother me!

I can use it.

Come in. Tell me

what have you got?

A name. Ray Boggs.

Midrail didn't want to say who was

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