Sexy Evil Genius Page #4

For your freaking stalker?

It's not as nutty as it sounds.

It's quite common, actually.

Although, now I know

that I was completely insane.

I mean, Mark didn't appear out of nowhere.

We dated for almost two years.

If I was gonna ask

another person to be at this table tonight,

this table of people I love,

it would have been him.

So, what? You were over me?

I was.

And jazz and the Rebops.

My instinct was to bolt,

just take off, start fresh somewhere.

So I snuck in your closet

because I knew you kept cash in there,

and I was gonna bankroll my getaway.

And guess what else I found?

What, my Nehru jacket?

A thick bindle of fine gold dust.

- No, you didn't.

- I did.

And I shot it

and I didn't stop until I got arrested.

How romantic.

You didn't find any heroin in my closet.

You wanted to go,

so you went and scored some smack.

Don't put that sh*t on me.

- What about all the hints?

- What hints?

You were going on and on

about all those jazz masters

that were hypes,

about how heroin helped creativity.

Why would I do that?

To kill my will.

You were afraid I was gonna leave you.

Nikki,

I didn't drop any hints

or otherwise recommend you take heroin.

And I didn't know you were

gonna leave me at all.

Hallucinations and delusions were

all part of her psychosis.

Yeah, maybe that explains it.

Yeah. I was just bonkers.

She told me that story years ago.

I thought she might have imagined it, too.

She was in the height of her mania.

So, what?

One day you just decided

to poison this guy?

You guys don't understand what it was like.

I mean, Mark and I were junkies.

We only left the house

to steal, scam and buy more drugs.

I mean, Mark was

even more paranoid than I was deranged.

Is this the shrimp flavor?

Chicken.

I like the shrimp flavor.

He wouldn't even let me

out of his sight for five minutes.

He was your stalker.

I was losing days, time,

hopping in and out of places,

blacking out somewhere,

waking up somewhere else.

It was crazy.

This would happen while

I was awake, dreaming,

I couldn't tell the difference.

One minute I'm in a garage

stealing garden tools,

the next second

I'm on the couch watching TV.

I was skipping around in time.

Kind of like in Slaughterhouse-Five.

Your favorite book?

It's similar, I guess.

I never really thought of it like that.

Okay, but how did the deed get done?

- I don't really know.

- Get out.

I pop in and all of a sudden,

the cops swarm in

while I'm with this drug dealer.

I think it's a set-up, but I'm busted.

But it's just f*** that they found me then.

- Turn around!

- Don't move!

I mean, there are squad cars,

detectives, a helicopter.

They've got an arrest warrant

on me for first-degree murder.

But you have no idea how you killed him?

I don't remember any of it.

Her clinical medical diagnosis

was homicidal mania.

The black-outs, hallucinations, delusions,

paranoia, it's all part of it.

Then her violent primitive instinct

for self-preservation kicks in.

The victim loses control, kills.

Oftentimes they don't remember anything.

And you could sleep

in the same bed with a homicidal maniac?

Aren't you worried about not waking up?

No, no. No, no, no. Not at all.

Her psychiatrist is a

personal friend of mine.

And she's back, 100% normal.

Homicidal mania

isn't a mind-fractured-forever-type deal?

No, no, no. The illness is gone

once the threat's removed.

In some cases, like schizophrenics,

there's always a perceived threat,

so oftentimes they can't be cured.

But with Nik, Mark's gone.

No more threat, no more mania.

The diagnosis from your personal friend

was that Nikki serves

only three years in jail for murder.

It sounds fishy.

Nik being fit for release

was not just my friend's opinion.

There were two other doctors

and I think seven members

on the hospital release board.

They were unanimous.

I'm with you on the insane Nikki.

Out of her mind on heroin,

doing daily crimes with psychopath Mark

to keep up their habit,

but how do you know you're cured?

Believe me, Coolidge,

if I wasn't cured, you'd be dead.

I was so mad at you

for planting that badness.

I wanted to kill you.

I'm gonna say this one more time.

I didn't.

I'm understanding that now,

that I was delusional,

but it's moot, really.

Moot how?

Because I've already decided

to overlook the whole thing.

I really do love you.

We had so many great times.

And I knew that seeing you again,

having a laugh,

would be a triumph over my illness,

that my mania was behind me.

That sounds not insane.

- Still don't believe it.

- Neither do I.

Why not? Aside from

my notorious scheming.

It's like claiming black-out

as your first line of defense.

And the rest of it plays out

like the plot of your favorite book.

I told you they wouldn't believe me.

You know, you two belong together.

- You're both way too skeptical.

- We know you.

Yeah. I mean, you're crazy, but like a fox.

As they say.

It doesn't matter.

They're just your friends,

not judge and jury, thank God.

You know what really happened.

But I don't.

Really? Total amnesia?

What's the difference?

It's not like any of our relationships

were based on truth anyway.

Never.

Yeah, I guess.

What are you getting at, Miranda?

I'm saying that our relationships

were based on being party

to your crazy adventures.

- They still are.

- Yeah.

I mean, most nights this late

I'm still at the office or home alone,

sitting on the couch, watching TV,

eating a $6 burger,

certainly not tipsy in a bar,

having my mind blown by

the girl who devirginized me.

I'm with Zach.

Let's forget about the past

and focus on your good news.

Yeah, you got away with murder.

- No, not that.

- No?

- You're over your insanity.

- Thank you.

That's sweet, but that's not

what I was thinking.

What are you driving at, Miranda?

- You're getting married.

- Right.

That is why we're here.

So, when's the big day?

That is the question of the hour.

I have an announcement to make,

a humongous one.

You do?

Can we get a bottle of champagne

with five glasses, please?

Champagne?

I'm gonna have to take a cab home.

I thought you're not drinking.

Only one. This calls for it.

Let's get to the humongous news.

You don't know the news?

- No clue.

- This should be good.

Here it is.

June the 18th.

What about it?

- Our wedding day.

- It is?

Surprise.

So totally awesome.

I listed our engagement with LA magazine

and they wanted a date,

so I picked one nine months away.

It's plenty of time to get our

asses in gear and make it happen.

- That's great.

- Righteous.

You know, I'll go if I'm invited.

Nik, how could you do this?

What were you thinking?

I picked a date.

I mean, you can pick the location.

I know that you wanted

to elope and we can still do that.

- I just figured that we would save...

- That is not the point.

This is a public announcement.

Honey, so is this.

I should have been consulted.

- Why? Does the date not work?

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