Pathology Page #3

you're the boy I think you are.

You won't tell because

that would mean the game is over.

And you never got to play.

I don't know if you've heard but we got

the results back on our black male. Negative.

I heard. I'm sorry sir.

No, no, no, priviledged from time to time.

- Interesting theory.

- Thank you.

- Well, carry on.

Teddy!

What're you doin here?

It wasn't potassium cyanide because there was no ragged stippling

in the red blood cells. The blood was hypo or smaller.

It was nitric acid.

You brought him a bottle. A gift.

You shared a drink with him,

but you didn't drink.

You mixed athenol and nitric acid with the alcohol.

Probably a flavor to alcohol

to mask the bitter taste.

Using a needle would've been too dangerous because any first

year f***ing med student would know to look for the mark.

You cut him up when he was still alive

but unconscious.

So there was no struggle.

Then you put him in the back of your truck,

drove him to fourth avenue

and shot him in the back of the head.

Mother f***er. Ah, you are good.

Hey, you wanna play the game, you gotta bring

something to the table. Comprendo?

So Jake told you about the game?

It's alright, you can say it.

So, are you in?

I don't know.

- You know what you have to do, right?

- Yeah.

I get the idea.

It's an interesting case.

You know it's always me that ends up with the dirt.

It's a waste of a goddamn ICU.

Mother f***er shoots his wife

and two kids, execution style

then he shoots himself in the throat

two more in the stomach and

he still couldn't get it done.

Double his morphine.

I'll check back in a couple of days.

- He's strapped in.

- Lot of pain.

He tried to pull out his wires.

He see devil soon I think.

- Oh my God, stop the bus. We need a doctor.

- Someone call 911.

- Is anybody a doctor?

- Is she breathing?

- Teddy?

- Hey baby.

- You alright?

Yeah, I'm great. I'm good.

- I got your message.

- You sounded like someone else.

Anyway, do you miss me?

Of course.

How's the work load goin?

Actually that's one of the things

I wanted to talk to you about.

- It looks like next weekend...

- You're f***ed?

I'm sorry. There's this mob trial and...

I understand.

Don't be rational, I'm gonna start crying

right here in the middle of the street.

Baby, to be honest, I have expected it.

Atleast there's Thanksgiving.

Absolutely.

My parents are still expecting

us to stay with them.

Of course.

Are you sure it's alright?

Because it's not too late to change your mind.

It's too late.

How so?

Yeah, no...

your parents are great.

It's beautiful there.

We're gonna have the back house

to ourselves, right?

That's true.

- Then it's settled.

- Ok then. I can't wait.

I'll call you tomorrow.

I love you.

You too.

I know exactly what you're thinking.

You think you feel guilty but it's not that.

There's not such thing as guilt.

There's just the fear of getting caught.

It's the first day after,

so that fear's still fresh.

Your brain is all sick and twisted up.

You're paranoid everyone knows.

You f***ed up, you're gonna lose everything.

You wanna throw-up but

there's nothing in your stomach.

You're not gonna sleep tonight.

You'll hit the bottom, you'll watch some TV, and look for

any news that they're on you, but there won't be any.

Tomorrow morning, you're gonna wake up and it's gonna

be the same world. Nothing has changed.

That fear, it will start to creep away and after a few days

you're gonna realise no one knows sh*t.

That this whole bloody thing,

disadvantage to you, so cataclysmic

has somehow

slipped beneath the notice of the world.

And then...

you'll be a new man.

That sheet

on which she embroiled fantails once

spread it so as to cover her face

If her horny feet protrude,

they come to show how cold she is

and dumb.

Let the lamp affix its beam.

The only emperor, is the emperor of ice-cream.

How did you do it?

Later.

Welcome.

I knew you had it in you.

Had what in me?

C'mon, he was gonna die anyway.

Yeah, we're all gonna die anyway.

F*** you!

So who is he?

Sort of this great man once. He never might know. He built

'em saved up from nothing. At one point he owned seven stores.

He married his highschool sweetheart.

Started a family.

Didn't last long though.

She left him, took the kids.

His business ran down,

he pissed away most of his money.

Why did she leave?

- The highschool sweetheart?

- Yeah.

I forgot to mention, he likes little girls.

In the worse way.

You wouldn't believe what he does to them.

He should've gone to jail but

you know how it goes, right?

It's easier for everyone to say nothing.

How do you know all this?

Because you never forget your first f***.

He's my father.

I want you to help me.

Because it's my turn for the game.

- Doesn't seem like your type.

- No?

Clearly not like the usual lost cause

from the tournament award.

Oh he may had a few issues with

alcohol and tobacco.

Don't we all.

But for the most part, he seems to have been in

relatively good health for a man of his age.

That is until you came along.

Could you be anymore hot right now?

I wonder what came over you?

It's as if he dropped his lungs

off the side of a building.

Yet the rest of his organs are pristine.

Donor material.

- No signs of asphyxia.

- He didn't asphyxiate.

How can you be so sure?

Because I know what asphyxiation looks like, dummy!

And it don't turn your lungs to jelly.

No.

I was thinking more along the lines of frostbite.

You're kidding.

The epidermis is healthy,

save for a few batches of sun damage.

Are you suggesting that Juliette

locked him in a freezer?

Because, I do not see it.

You don't?

Well, I see it all quite clearly.

This is some kind of bud baby.

This is really medical marijuana for free?

Well, I am in favor.

It's been proven to naturally alleviate pain.

Why should anyone have to suffer, right daddy?

Ain't that the truth.

That's your boyfriend huh?

What was it you said you was again?

A General Practitioner.

So you can prescribe this sh*t for me, legal?

Yeah, that's right.

Legal, beagle.

Where do I sign?

- No, let's do some whippets first.

- No sh*t!

You got a prescription for that too?

Who's first?

Thank you.

Med school has its perks huh?

Liquid Nitrogen.

A mixture of chlorofluoro carbons,

nitrogen and a bit of free on my boy.

He died of anoxia.

It wasn't just that he couldn't breathe,

he couldn't adsorb the oxygen.

More challenging mystery is

how Miss Bath here

forced a 340 pound man

to ingest a canister of -75 degree air

all by herself.

She is a very charming girl.

That's true.

She could convince almost anyone

to do what she wanted them to.

You know, one could almost see a

resemblance between the two of you.

But maybe that's just the temperature.

Question.

Are you playing fair?

Is there such a thing?

No.

But don't you wanna know who's the best?

Aren't you a bit curious?

- That was pretty good last night.

- No idea what you're talking about.

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