Men at Work Page #3

This guy was beatin' on his old lady,

so I took upon myself to end the dispute.

- So you shot him?

- With a pellet gun.

So you said.

- And you shot him from where?

- From my apartment.

So how in the hell did he end up here?

Why don't you ask him?

- Have some. It'll settle your nerves.

- My nerves don't need settling!

What is the maximum sentence

for murder?

I did not murder anyone! Jesus Christ,

James, whose side are you on?

- I am not taking sides.

- You've already convicted me.

I'm on my way to death row.

Carl, come on.

Let me tell you,

you are in it as much as I am.

You were there.

That makes you an accomplice.

Look, you bastard, I never

wanted you to do it. I was against it.

- Try explaining that to the judge.

- I'm not explaining anything to any judge.

- This is your ball game, Carl.

- You are an a**hole!

- You are a trigger-happy idiot!

- I will not rot in prison alone.

You're not gonna mess up my life,

you son of a b*tch!

Hey!

You and your stupid pellet gun!

- Get off of me!

- I'll kill you!

You're a stupid man!

You're a stupid little man!

I said enough! I said cut it out!

Hey, you! I said knock it off!

Now look, unless one of you two guys

took a piece of rope or a piece of wire

and strangled this guy,

you're both in the clear.

How the hell do you know?

You can tell by the marks on his neck.

Look at that.

Pretty sloppy job, too.

Not a great idea to keep him

out in the open like this.

I don't like this, Carl.

I don't like this one bit.

- I'm goin' to the cops.

- What?

Looks like they're comin' to us.

I hate cops.

Well, well. Another fine day

in the dumps, eh, fellas?

Who are your friends?

I've never seen you around here before.

Louis here works for the company.

He'll be ridin' with us for the next

couple of weeks to police our activities.

- Is that right?

- Yes, sir, Officer, sir.

- What about you?

- He's...

I didn't ask you, garbageman.

I'm asking the punk who looks like

he's had a few too many.

What the hell's the matter with him?

He looks friggin' dead.

Well, the boy's had a rough night.

He's, you know, a... cousin of James.

He flew in from... Texas. We were

out late showin' him a good time.

Wherever he's from, he shouldn't be

out on the street in his condition.

I could haul you in, you know. But for now

I'm just gonna give you a warning.

- That's very kind of you, Officer.

- Yeah, it is.

Get him inside that truck and make sure

he stays there until he sobers up.

- Do I make myself clear?

- Crystal, sir. Let's go.

Not so fast.

I've got the whole Las Playas police

department clued into you two bozos.

You may have escaped me this time,

and all I can say is

"Relish this moment, gentlemen."

This is wrong. This is just wrong, wrong,

wrong! We should have just told them.

Told them what?

That we found a body in the trash

that just happened to be Jack Berger,

the man I shot with a pellet gun?

Are you nuts? Those guys are

lookin' for any excuse to put us away.

Let's get outta here. We'll stash the body,

get back to work and figure this out later.

Son of a b*tch!

I can't believe this. We lost the body.

Hey, relax. We didn't lose the body.

It's in a big yellow can.

How can we miss it?

What do you mean, you've lost the body?

It just kind of fell out

of the back of the car.

Well.

- Find it! Find it, find it, find it, find it!

- Yes, sir.

Your very lives

depend upon it, gentlemen.

- What the hell are you waiting for?

- Sir, we did find the tape.

Oh.

Thank God.

You're excused.

- Wait a minute. The girl.

- What girl?

- The girl we saw Berger fighting with.

- What about her?

Well, maybe she had

something to do with his death.

Yeah, so she strangles him, stuffs him in a

barrel and dumps him on the esplanade?

It makes a lot of sense, Carl.

You know...

That stiff's startin' to get a little gamy.

You guys come up with anything?

Carl seems to think that

Berger's girl is somehow involved.

The last time we saw Berger alive was

in that fight across from my apartment.

- It's not enough to go on.

- It's a place to start.

How about going to the police? What

we should have done in the first place.

Carl's right. It's a place to start.

We're not gonna accomplish

a goddamn thing standing around here.

So you guys are either

with me or you're not.

I thought you knew how to rig that thing.

I followed the instructions.

Anything good

to eat in this place?

- I could order us a pizza.

- Sounds great. Pepperoni, extra cheese.

Maybe we should put old Milhous

someplace a little less visible.

I need a large pepperoni, extra cheese,

to 828 Esplanade, apartment 405.

Last name, Taylor.

Yeah.

OK, what's the total on that?

Hey, Carl.

Hello.

She hardly looks like

a cold-blooded killer.

What now, hotshot?

How about goin' over there and tellin' her

that we got her boyfriend's

dead body sittin' in our shitter?

What are we gonna do?

Stand here watching her like

a bunch of long-distance Peeping Toms?

No.

- I'm goin' over there.

- What?

- I'm goin' over there.

- What for?

I don't know. Snoop around,

see what I can come up with.

Carl, this is not some game. What if

she didn't have anything to do with this?

Gee, James, you sound as if

you're really worried about me.

- Sure you know what you're doing?

- I'm not gonna get in over my head.

Well, that depends on

which head you're talkin' about.

Look, we got your back. If anything funny

happens, don't be too shy to scream.

OK. Save me a slice.

Do you know where

he keeps that gun of his?

What is he doing?

What am I doing?

Uh-oh.

- Don't kill me!

- What?

What? I'm sorry.

- Are you OK?

- I'm fine. I've never been better.

- Do you live here in the...

- I'm sorry if I...

You first.

- Do you live here in the building?

- Yes, I do live here in the building.

For five years I've been in the building.

That's funny.

I've never seen you here before.

Well, I lead a very... private life.

I'm a... a... phrenologist.

What exactly does a phrenologist do?

Well, I feel and interpret the size of

Walts a**hole... I mean, skull features.

Wow.

Not to impose, but if we can go inside and

put some ice on this ankle, it'd be great.

- Inside where?

- Your apartment.

What's the matter with yours?

No, my ice machine is broken,

and yours is right here.

Are you gonna refuse a wounded man

in dire need of medical attention?

- No.

- Thanks.

- But I didn't catch your name.

- I'm Ted Blanston, the third.

Susan Wilkins, the first.

He's inside.

He's inside her apartment.

Out that light.

What the hell's Carl doing?

- I don't like this, man. I do not like this.

- Shh.

A**hole!

The hell with this. I'm callin' the police.

No cops. I hate cops.

I'm sorry, which ankle was it?

It's the swollen one.

- I really appreciate this.

- It's no trouble.

Are you friendly with the Cottlers?

- I think...

- Second floor?

- Ron and Ann?

- Oh, sure.

Well, I figured, since you're both doctors.

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