Needful Things Page #2

...I won't bother complaining

to Sheriff Pangborn again.

- I'll come over your place, skin him alive.

- No, not in here. Dear God, please!

- Throw her Baptist ass in the street.

- I will not.

Dear ladies, let's all be friends.

Can't we all be friends?

Not in this life.

Please, not in my place.

I'm sorry. Ladies, excuse me!

Miss Jerzyk!

Pick it up. Go ahead. Go on.

Don't be afraid, Miss Cobb.

No. I had one just like it years ago.

But it got broke.

- My husband...

- Your husband?

Then it's Mrs. Cobb.

Although my George has been passed on

for some time now.

- He died, untimely.

- I'm so sorry to hear that.

No need to be sorry.

It's been seven years since he was...

Murder is awful.

- I didn't mean to.

- Of course not.

It wasn't you who took that meat fork

from the drawer...

...and stuck it in his throat.

Are you leaving, Mrs. Roberts?

I'll have to think about it.

It is a lot of money.

You think about it. So will I.

You baked this?

Of course.

Homemade every day from apples

picked down at the Mayflowers'.

Polly Chalmers, my boss, sent it over.

Go ahead. Take him.

- I'm scared I'll drop it again.

- You won't drop it.

Come, Mrs. Cobb.

Please, sit down.

Listen.

Sometimes I think I can hear

the tiniest laugh.

I like you, Netitia.

I won't yell at you, like George did.

You moron!

No!

I think it should be yours, Netitia.

I need to go to work.

I'll see you soon. I'll drop by for a bite.

Mr. Keeton eats there most every day,

does he not?

Yeah. Danforth Keeton.

And everybody calls him Buster

behind his back.

Why is that? Pray tell.

I don't know.

Maybe someone should play

a trick on Buster.

Teach him to be nice.

My husband played a lot of tricks on me.

Maybe it would be fun

to play one on someone else.

Nobody would ever know it was you,

I promise.

Welcome to Needful Things.

Alan Pangborn.

- The sheriff around these parts.

- Leland Gaunt. Owner.

- So, what can I sell you, Sheriff?

- Me?

Nothing. I got everything I need, thanks.

Fair enough.

How about a piece of pie?

Your fiance Ms. Chalmers sent it over.

- My fiance?

- Such a pretty lady.

You're a lucky man, Sheriff. I'll be back.

Goodness.

I wish I had some cheddar cheese.

But beggars can't be choosers, can they?

Certain we haven't met somewhere before,

have we?

What, you and me?

In a big city.

You look familiar, Al.

You look out of place here, actually.

You don't mind my saying so,

so do you, Leland.

So, where are you from?

Ohio.

Akron, to be precise.

Pittsburgh.

I'm from Pittsburgh.

So, why did you leave?

I was a cop there,

and I got tired of all the sh*t going down.

And one day I just lost it.

I hit this guy.

Way too hard.

I reckon he needed some killing.

But it was still wrong.

Of course it was.

Yeah. So I left, and now I'm here.

So am I.

- Reverend.

- Sheriff.

- Alan, thanks for coming!

- Afternoon, Father.

- Hi, Sheriff.

- I got this in the mail this morning.

"Listen up, you mackerel snapper. "

- Excuse me.

- "We've tried to reason with you...

"... but it's been no use.

We have put up with your Popish idolatry...

"... and even with your licentious worship

of the Babylon whore...

"... but now you've gone too far. "

"Babylon whore. "

I mean, saints preserve us.

"Heed our warning.

Give up your plan to turn this town...

"... into a den of thieves and gamblers,

or you will smell the brimstone.

"'The wicked shall be turned into hell. '

Psalms 9:
17.

"The concerned Baptist men

of Castle Rock. "

It's that idiot, Reverend Willie Rose.

Maybe you shouldn't have

called it "Casino Night. "

For God's sake, Alan.

It's only a little charity gambling.

I mean, I don't know why

it upsets the Baptists so.

I'll go talk to Rever...

When I was younger,

people got along better!

I'll go talk to him.

I'll get to the bottom of it.

You do that, Alan.

And when you do,

you tell Rose that if he tries to bump us...

...he'll find out just how hard

we "mackerel snappers" can bump back!

Pete, get me a gobbler from the pen!

I feel like turkey tonight.

You feel like turkey every night, Wilma.

Wilma!

- What happened?

- Mud!

Mud and sh*t! Goddamn turkey sh*t!

Why'd someone go and do that?

- Because I told her I'll kill it.

- Told who?

Dot.

- Yes, just a sec. It's for you.

- Me?

Okay, it's the square key. All the doors.

Don't forget the lights.

You can do it. You'll be fine.

- I'll see you in the morning.

- Night.

Hi. This is Nettie.

I know what you done, you crazy b*tch!

Done what?

F***ing with me

was the worst mistake you ever made.

I'm going to get you for this,

you understand? You and your mutt!

You don't dare!

You stop bothering me and my Raider!

- He's a good doggie!

- You won't see me coming!

Guy sounds like he's havin'

a f***ing pepoleptic fit.

Yep.

Don't kick the Rock-Ola, Hugh.

You hear me?

How you doing at the tracks, Dan?

Horses finally running your way?

Every time, Henry. Every goddamn time.

I'm gonna kick that jukebox wide open,

you don't fix it, Henry.

All right. That's it. You're out of here.

Give me that back.

Any of you fellas heading up to Castle Hill?

Hugh needs a lift.

Pink slip is what Hugh needs.

For a city employee making

an ass of himself in a public tavern.

Yep.

Nice to have friends.

You know, Henry? They do it at night.

They come in,

and they take out the mirrors...

...and they put in a piece of one-way glass

and stick a camera on the other side of it.

Then they watch you,

and they laugh at you.

And they take down every

single word you say.

Yeah.

- You're drenched to your soul.

- They threw me out!

- I'm sorry.

- Here.

Let me help you peel this thing off,

before you catch your death.

You got a nice jacket in the window.

A classic early-'50s beauty.

Warm as toast. Dry as a bone.

It's just like the one I used to have

in high school, before I was a bum.

When I was a kid.

I'll bet there are quite a few people

in this sh*t pit of a town...

...who wouldn't believe

you ever were a kid.

I know. It's not fair. I try so hard.

Not hard enough. So they crushed you.

They buried that wonderful boy

deep inside you.

- Which boy?

- This one.

We'll find him again, Hugh.

We'll resurrect him together.

Because, all of a sudden,

it's 1955 all over again.

It was the best hour

of the best day of my life.

- God, I loved that jacket.

- Which jacket? This one.

This jacket, Hugh.

You could recover, retrace your steps.

Take charge of your life again.

God, this is still so beautiful.

Say, Hugh, do you happen to know...

...a nice little Baptist lady

called Nettie Cobb?

Sure. Crazy old wretch killed her husband.

How much do you want for it?

- Mr. Gaunt?

- I am he.

Reverend Rose, sir,

of the First Baptist Church of Castle Rock.

May I take this opportunity

to welcome you to Castle Rock...

...on the good Lord's behalf?

- Why not?

- Excellent.

It's my unusual urgency when I ask,

what faith, sir, are you?

- What faith?

- Religion.

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