Serial Mom Page #5

myself. I've read the law books.

Ware vs. State, 1964...

and Chuwet vs. State, 1962.

Mrs. Sutphin, the defendant

who has herself for a lawyer...

has a fool for a client.

Counsel, approach the bench.

I don't think

this is a good idea.

Oh, yeah?

No, it's okay.

That's my ruling.

Thank you very much.

Mrs. Sutphin,

I have no legal choice...

but to let you take over

as your own attorney.

How do you plead?

Not guilty, Your Honor.

Order! Order in the courtroom!

Quiet down or

I'll clear this room out.

I call to the stand...

Dottie Hinkle.

Raise your right hand, please.

Do you solemnly swear...

that the testimony you are about to give

will be the whole truth?

- I do.

- Thank you.

Mrs. Hinkle, did you ever receive

any obscene telephone calls?

I certainly did.

And did you recognize

the voice of the caller?

Not at first. But then I heard the same

inflection in a voice at a gathering...

and I put two and two together.

Whose voice was it, Dottie?

It was her, Beverly Sutphin...

sitting there.

I'm lucky I'm not dead.

- Mrs. Hinkle, do you drink?

- No, I don't.

So you were not drunk

when you received...

those allegedly obscene

phone calls?

I certainly was not.

You mean to tell me the day

I came over to Mrs. Ackerman's...

the day you claim

you recognized my voice...

you were not drinking?

One beer with lunch

is hardly drinking.

So you do drink?

Socially, I'll have a beer.

So you admit you just lied?

No, I don't, you b*tch!

Watch your mouth.

Did you see that?

She just said "F*** you" to me.

Let the record show

I am merely standing here.

F*** you too, you whore.

I'm warning you, Mrs. Hinkle.

One more obscenity...

and I'm gonna charge you

with contempt of court!

Are you insane?

No, I'm not, you motherf***er!

Mrs. Hinkle, I find you guilty

of contempt...

and I sentence you to $1,000 fine

and five days in jail.

You cocksucker!

You lousy pig f***er!

You b*tch!

You ugly whore!

Come on. They're going quickly.

Serial Mom T-shirts. Get them here.

Twelve dollars while they last,

plus tax. MasterCard or Visa.

- I'll take two.

- All right, ma'am.

I wish they'd had this

at the Kennedy kid trial.

Sign right here.

Signature and home phone.

You read it in the paper. Serial Mom-

she's Beverly Sutphin and she's my mom.

You tell Geraldo to go to hell.

I don't care what Jeffrey MacDonald's

people got. He's old news.

We fly first class

or we don't do the show.

- Are you Chip Sutphin?

- Hold on a sec.

Yeah, I am, but you're gonna

have to speak with my agent.

Your mom killed my brother.

Come on!

God! Geez, man!

That's cool.

It's cool, all right?

- You're Carl's brother, right?

- That's right.

I'm sorry he's dead.

- But have you signed off yet?

- TV or print?

TV, man. Suzanne Somers is interested

in playing my mom.

Who's gonna play my brother?

I wonder if Jason Priestley's

available.

Miss Hodges, could you

describe the car?

The one you saw run over Mr. Stubbins

in cold blood.

I seen that movie.

It was on cable.

Please, Miss Hodges.

Could you-

Could you describe it?

Excuse me.

Look, man. Like I told you,

it was blue.

The car, not the driver.

Look, it was just blue.

You know...

like blue.

Here you go. Enjoy my book.

Could you sign it

"To a future Serial Mom"?

- Sure. You think she did it?

- I have reasonable doubt.

I feel like killing

a couple of people myself.

Eight dollars, ma'am.

And these books,

these disgusting books...

that so lovingly describe

the sadistic acts of serial killers...

where did you find

these books, Detective?

In Beverly Sutphin's trash can.

You may cross-examine,

Mrs. Sutphin.

Thank you.

Detective Gracey?

If I were to look through your trash,

what reading materials would I find?

Objection! Immaterial.

You may answer.

"Time", "Sports lllustrated"...

"National Geographic. "

My wife gets "Ladies' Home Journal. "

Last night we found

in your trash can this magazine...

"Chicks With D*cks. "

Goddamn you.

- That's trespassing!

- Never judge a person...

by what they read, Detective.

Your witness, Mr. Nazlerod.

I am a married man!

I hope they give you the gas chamber!

The jury is instructed

to ignore the outburst of the witness.

I call to the stand

Rosemary Ackerman.

Now, did you ever see

the fire poker again...

after you left it

with Mrs. Sutphin?

Yes. Thirty minutes later.

It was covered with blood and gore,

and Carl Pageant was dead.

No further questions.

When you left me at the antique mart,

where did you go?

- Browsing.

- Did Carl buy something you wanted?

I didn't want that Faberge egg.

It was chipped.

Carl Pageant died because of you,

didn't he?

No. I would never hurt anybody.

It was your "Premiere" magazine

with the letters cut out?

Yes, but I lent it to-

And they were your scissors that were

found in Mrs. Sterner's stomach?

Yes, but I didn't-

Do you recycle?

I don't have room

in my kitchen.

Detective Pike, did you then proceed

to the stage area in Hammerjacks?

Yes, I did. Scotty Barnhill was on fire

and fell to his knees in flames.

Would this be what you saw?

Yes, sir. A real barbecue.

May I show this photo

to the jury, Your Honor?

- Chip, she's here.

- They're entitled to see her handiwork.

Excuse me.

Your Honor, may the photograph please

be received into evidence...

and shown to the jury?

Yes.

Geez, that really is

Suzanne Somers.

Oh, I loved you in

"Three's Company. "

No further questions.

I call to the stand Marvin Pickles.

Mr. Pickles. Mr. Marvin Pickles.

- Be right out.

- The judge is waiting for you.

Come on. Get moving.

State your name, please.

Marvin A. Pickles.

Were you in the men's room

at the Antique Traders' Mart...

on Saturday, May 15?

Yes, I was.

Did you see anyone

in the booth next to you?

Excuse me.

Mr. Pickles, did you see

anyone in the booth next to you?

I'm not sure.

What do you mean,

you're not sure?

There was nobody next to me.

Mr. Pickles, didn't you tell

the grand jury...

that you looked down

and you saw a pair of ladies' shoes...

in the booth next to you?

I just said what you told me to.

Perjury is a serious offense,

Mr. Pickles.

I made it all up.

I've never seen Beverly Sutphin

in my life.

You'll pay for this,

Marvin Pickles.

I'm turning your file

over to the vice squad.

The prosecution rests.

The prosecution has proven nothing,

Your Honor.

The defense rests also.

Order. Order in the courtroom.

We'll take a ten-minute recess.

Attorneys, be ready

with your closing arguments.

Well, I feel that Beverly Sutphin

is an innocent woman...

wrongly accused.

A normal housewife trapped in the

nightmare of circumstantial evidence.

There she is.

Henrietta Lee Lucas...

Joan Wayne Gacy.

A new face...

in the deck of serial killer

trading cards.

Find her guilty...

on all six counts...

of first-degree murder.

I only hope I can portray

Serial Mom's life on the TV screen...

with the proper dignity...

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