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drawn in accordance with the

requirements of the trust.

They're all predated, of

course, to save you the trouble.

It's standard procedure.

Effective at the time of your death...

the trust provides for

very liberal settlements...

on your wife and daughter...

and more than sufficient funds...

for your financial needs

in your new identity...

from sums assigned to

us as your trustees.

Insurance policies...

annuities...

real estate.

If you'll sign right here.

The staging here is rather

authentic, you'll see.

Of course, the drug made it

easier to manipulate you...

into the proper positions and attitudes.

Rest easy, Mr. Wilson.

You did not ravage our girl.

Of course, the photography

is not too professional...

but I think it's clear enough.

- So now it's...

- I have a message from Charlie.

He wanted me to tell you

that rebirth is painful.

You were going to say...

"So now it's blackmail," eh, Mr. Wilson?

- What would you call it?

- Just kind of insurance.

Isn't it easier to go forward

when you know you can't go back?

But you knew that, didn't you?

The minute you hung up on

Charlie after that first call.

Ah, sure you did.

You're saying...

I can never go back?

Fact is, you really

don't want to go back.

Sakes, boy, you owe yourself this thing.

Rebirth. Life again.

Begin again, all new, all different.

The way you always wanted it.

You've got another chance.

Heck, nobody's gonna miss you, are they?

- My wife.

- What are you to her now?

- We get along.

- What does that mean?

There's my daughter.

We don't see much of her, actually.

She lives out west with her husband.

She writes now and then...

to let us...

What are you to her now?

Excuse an old fool prying, son...

but what does it all mean?

It can't mean anything now, anymore.

There's nothing anymore, is there?

Anything at all?

I expect to be president

of the bank before too long.

And I have my boat in the summer.

We have friends.

Anything at all?

Guess I...

never thought much about it before.

I leave Emily pretty much

alone to do what she...

We get along, as I said.

We hardly ever quarrel.

Not that that's any...

measure of our lives.

Frankly...

during the last few years, we...

hardly ever...

ever...

I... I don't know why

I'm telling you this.

Because you want to. Go on.

Ever...

ever...

show much affection.

But as I said...

Boat.

And...

So this is what happens

to the dreams of youth.

Go on, son. Let it out.

Nothing to be ashamed of.

Let it out.

Time for a change.

Now, look. They'll both

be well taken care of.

They don't need you,

and you don't need them.

You just can't help each other anymore.

Now, look, son. You know

what I'm saying is true.

There's nothing anymore.

What you need now is a good rest.

A few things to be worked

out in the morning...

but my boys will clear those

up, and you needn't worry none.

Your boys?

You're the head of it all?

There never was a struggle in the

soul of a good man that wasn't hard.

My papa told me that...

and it's sure enough true.

Believe me, son. I know.

I believe you.

That's fine.

You know, Mr. Wilson, you represent

something of a milestone around here.

When the bandages are removed...

I think you'll be more than pleased.

In fact, I expect you to be prancing

around here like a stud bull.

Now, it's gonna take a

while, so try to be patient...

until we get you ready

for the world again.

Now, don't do that!

You can't talk because we've

extracted all your teeth...

and given you a complete

vocal cord resection.

Give the tissues time to pull together.

Now, you got a new

set of permanent teeth.

In a week, you won't know

the difference. Thank you.

That's what hurts the most right now.

Everything's different.

When the first healing's over, we'll

start conditioning for muscle tone.

Yes, yes. Those too.

Fingerprints.

Even your signature.

Little thing we did with the

tensor ligaments of the hand.

The orbicularis oris started to sag,

so we tightened them with ligatures.

Yeah.

Then we worked on the

mandible to square up the bone.

Well, I never.

Holy mackerel, I don't

know how you boys do it.

Doc, it's a masterpiece.

Good work.

Easy does it. You'll be all right, son.

Your scars and hematomas will

disappear in a couple of weeks.

After several months of

physical conditioning...

the process will be complete.

My name is Davalo. I'm

your guidance advisor.

This is about your future career.

I'm afraid I haven't

thought very much about that.

Oh, yes, you have, sir. Permit me.

I want a ball, a big red one.

Whoops.

I'm afraid we picked this

up a little too early.

Sit down. We recorded

these regressions...

under pentothal and

caffeine sodium benzoate.

At first, there's always

a touch of the infantile...

but later on, we progress

to a more mature...

expressional infrastructure.

Ah, here we are.

What would you like to do most of all?

Of anything in the whole world?

I'd like to be a tennis pro, I guess.

Yes. That's what I'd like best of all.

And suppose you couldn't be?

What else would you choose?

- I guess I'd like to paint stuff.

- Pictures?

Pictures and things.

Well, I think the creative wish

pattern is pretty self-evident.

You mean, I... I ought to be a painter?

Exactly!

You see, painting allows you

a basic creative outlet...

as well as an environment in which

these sublimations will have free vent.

Now, let's take a look at the

program we've worked out for you.

Certificates of study.

Abroad.

Notices of first six one-man shows.

Your pictures are

realistic in treatment...

but deal with poetic

imagery in choice of subject.

Not that I pretend to

be a critic of painting.

These diplomas...

from reputable universities...

They can't be forged.

I assure you, every item

is bona fide and valid.

How could I even approach

such a professional level?

Simple. You are already established

in a position of some dignity.

Nothing conspicuous. Just a solid,

mildly successful sort of thing.

You will be supplied with

fresh paintings periodically.

In time, you'll perfect your own style.

Surreal, primitive,

impressionistic, whatever.

It will be a transition

from this present work.

You see, you don't have

to prove anything anymore.

You are accepted.

You will be in your own new dimension.

You're a bachelor.

Birth certificate. The only son...

of deceased parents, and so forth.

In short...

you are alone in the world...

absolved of all responsibility...

except to your own interest.

Isn't that marvelous?

Your studio is in Malibu, California.

Quite luxurious, very private.

You'll make your own

adjustment in your own way...

in your own time.

Oh, you'll be self-conscious at first.

Don't worry.

It will wear off. And

remember, you've got...

what almost every middle-aged

man in America would like to have:

Freedom.

Real freedom.

Ah, it's been a pleasure.

Pillow, Mr. Wilson?

Yes, thank you.

Tony!

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