Loose Cannons Page #5

- Thank you.

- Your critics say...

...this whole assassination business

was fabricated.

- He is here.

- Who?

Sir, they say hard evidence exists...

...that not only links you

to Adolf Hitler but...

- What are you doing here?

- You wanted to see me.

Are you mad? Never near him. Never!

I gave you a meeting place.

It couldn't wait until then.

See, we have a crisis.

Steckler's disappeared.

All those people that you killed.

A chief of intelligence.

We hired you to get the film back,

not to start a holocaust. It must stop!

You lecture me, you fool.

I didn't let him steal it.

You're all morons. Including him.

What goes on here, Grimmer,

is something you do not understand.

Now find Steckler.

Tell him all will be forgiven.

He will be reinstated.

We will match whatever offer he has.

But no more killing.

You think he will believe that?

There are only two left now.

When they are gone,

your mistakes will be corrected.

- I am telling you.

- Nein!

I am telling you,

you do your job and I do mine.

And if you ever touch me again...

Yeah,

looks like an explosion in a dairy.

Great for graffiti, though.

I know it's kind of blank.

But it's this MPD thing.

- MPD?

- Yeah, my condition.

Multiple Personality Disorder.

They say I should cut down on the

amount of stimuli I process.

- Well, you've cut down to none.

- Wanna hear a tape?

Yeah, what do you got?

- Earth, forest, wind, beach.

- Beach.

Okay.

I guess you might say

I'm kind of searching for myself.

Let me know if you ever find yourself,

kid, 'cause I'd like to meet you.

- Have a seat.

- You know, we have a lot in common.

Yeah. For every mood that I'm in,

you have a complete personality to fit it.

Well, thanks for trying to understand.

I guess I keep this apartment white

because I really don't know who I am.

It's kind of like a blank piece of film

waiting to be exposed...

...to what I was before my trauma

or what I've become...

...since I was last myself

or what I hope to be again someday.

- One person, one mind.

- You sound like a bumper sticker.

Stay as long as you want.

Got the extra room and everything.

Yeah, I'm kind of tired.

If you don't mind, l...

- Sure. It's around the corner.

- Hit the sack.

Here's the guest room. Your room.

Sorry, I guess I could have used

a little color in here.

There's a toothbrush, shaving stuff

and a bathrobe on the door here.

Just help yourself,

make yourself at home.

Okay.

- Yeah.

- Hi, it's me.

Well, I figured.

There's no way of telling whether

I'm gonna go into an episode tonight.

You know,

I just don't know when they occur...

...but when I start these personalities...

...sometimes it's like

I'm kind of having nightmares.

I doubt I'll do anything violent,

but lock the door, just in case.

I can take care of myself.

I'll be out of here tomorrow.

Well, stay as long as you want.

Sleep tight.

Land jets! Prepare to land jets!

Please!

Please get these rats off me now!

You like rats? You like roaches?

You like bugs of all descriptions?

Don't listen to him.

We'll never go anywhere.

Good night, everybody.

- Mac.

- Yeah, I see them, kid.

They've been with us since your place.

- Really?

- Yeah, really.

What happened to your magical powers

of observation?

You have a hard night?

Tailing and surveillance doesn't happen

to be my area of expertise, okay?

Did I do something strange last night?

- Do anything to disturb your sleep?

- Not a peep.

Think they're the same people

who tried to kill us yesterday?

I don't know.

You don't wanna live forever, do you?

I wouldn't mind making the average

male North American life expectancy.

I have given your message

to Herr Doberman myself.

Someone will be with you presently.

If you will please wait here.

Here?

Yes, sir. Right here.

Right here?

Yes, sir. Right there.

Thank you.

Must be the magic oval. I guess

we're safe in here or something.

Detective Stern.

Bob Smiley,

assistant deputy director of the FBI.

You've heard of us.

Just kidding, Mac. Call me Bob.

- It is Mac, right?

- MacArthur Stern.

Right. Look, Mac...

...let's get off on the right foot here.

Just kidding, Mac.

I like to keep things loose.

- Who's this?

- This is Mr. Fielding.

How are you? Sorry,

my dossier didn't list your partner.

Well, he's not my partner.

He's my tailor.

What?

Just kidding, Bob.

That's funny. Look, Mac...

Listen, I came down here to meet with

an official of the German government.

Now, why am I speaking

to the FBI agent?

- Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac.

- Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob. What?

So tell me, Mac,

are you onto something? Is that it?

- Could be.

- Wouldn't be good not to tell me.

- I suppose not.

- As one professional to another...

...l've got to tell you,

we've got a thorny problem.

- What's that, Bob?

- Well, we're extremely sensitive...

...to the great job you boys are doing

down in the trenches.

I started on the bottom rung.

Did you know that?

- I didn't know that, Bob.

- Yes, indeedy.

Two years, Homicide, Tacoma P.D.

- I'll be darned.

- Yeah.

So, Mac, I want you to know...

...that we're aware that you have

a multiple homicide case to resolve...

...and God knows that's an important

public responsibility...

...and we're gonna open every bit of this

up to you lads...

...just as soon as National Security

priorities are satisfied.

I think that sounds square.

- What do you think, Mac?

- I think that sounds pretty shitty, Bob.

Well, I can understand that

from your perspective, Mac.

I'd probably feel that way too

if I were in your shoes, but I'm not.

- I'm in these shoes.

- Thom McCann's, 111 l2E.

And these shoes walked a lot

of hard miles.

These shoes have carried some heavy

loads, in terms of this nation's security.

What do you say to that, Mac?

I think those shoes are carrying

the biggest load I've ever seen, Bob.

Well, I can see we got off

to the wrong foot after all.

I've got a writ being drafted,

giving me custody of Mr. Gutterman.

I'll be down for him in about an hour.

You boys have a nice day.

- Mac, can I say something?

- Yeah, Ellis, what is it?

- What a f***ing putz.

- Why, Ellis.

Well, I mean, he's a classic

anal-retentive reprobate.

"Anal-retentive."

- It's got a nice ring to it.

- It's psychology.

I like "f***ing putz" better.

We're gonna have to move Gutterman.

He's not gonna get along

with our Mr. Smiley in there.

- Can we do that?

- Yeah, if we get a forklift.

They're still here.

Wonder what her story is.

Based upon first observations, subject

to revision with further data of course...

...l'd say she's about 5'7",

DIA, CIA or NSA operative.

Recruited out of Bennington College,

Vermont.

Born in Richmond, Virginia.

Turn-ons:
Fellini films and men

with hairy chests who read Chaucer.

Turnoffs:
macho men

who aren't for world peace.

- Also has a cat named Bootsie.

- What?

Just kidding.

How the heck would I know who she is?

Ellis, Ellis, Ellis.

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