Slim Susie Page #2

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Hey, Grits. Are you and Susie...

No one cleans up around here.

That just sucks. Have a beer.

- Beer smells great.

- Who are these guys?

Good guys, working class.

Not that they have jobs.

So, just good guys. We've

had a two-day Scarface conference.

That's why they're wasted.

We did all the lines.

We tried to email the guy who

made the movie, which was hard.

The connection just sucks.

Shoot! Shootme.

Yeah, there you go.

Grits really loves movies.

We've made 50 movies together.

"Deadly Murder" was

probably the best one.

THE END:

It was not that bad.

- Morning beer smell rules.

- Why am I filming?

For a documentary about me,

to leave something behind.

I'll die one day, like everyone does.

- Are you working?

- Don't have the time. Sit down.

Don't you want this one?

Yeah, it's Grits.

Right. Yeah.

Hey, what are you on?

Can you get me some?

- Screw that.

- Who was that?

- No clue.

- So, are you dating Susie?

Damn it, the laundry.

Nope, never dated Slim Susie.

Not that I noticed.

- Cut it out! Yes or no?

- Naw. She'd sleep here sometimes.

She'd bring a pillow. I never touched

her, not someone's little sister.

I swear.

Haven't seen her for a while.

- She's disappeared.

- Well, that explains it.

What was she like

last time you sawher?

- Drunk and unhappy.

- Why?

- Too much to drink, I guess.

- Cut it out! I'm worried!

Why was she unhappy?

It happened at the

opening of the sports hall.

The Chimp from

Electric Banana Band was there.

After the opening he split,

and left her alone.

Screwed up with love

and memories.

For a while she thought was

pregnant by him, but she wasn't.

It was probably just the pizza.

Sandra, if anything happens to me,

look in the drain pipes.

Why didn't she tell me?

Yeah, why didn't she? What a crappy

sister. Siblings stay in touch.

I've got something to comfort us.

Vino Shito, right from hell.

It's orange flavored.

- I have a sieve... Ah, screwit.

- Who uses this?

You can add other stuff for flavor,

pizza crust, pepperoni...

- None for me.

- You drain the bacteria culture...

- Why'd you tell that? Makes me sick.

- It's important.

You need all the details

to know I'm innocent.

If you're lying,

I will be sorely vexed.

When I get sorely vexed,

I get really mean.

- You're lying!

- No.

- It's true.

- Good.

Go on.

Settle down! I've got

something awesome to show you.

- We'II take the Humpmobile.

- I'm goingto the cops.

- My awesome thing first.

- Does no one care that she's gone?

First the awesome thing.

Then we care.

- But you've been drinking.

- Let's go.

I can bullshit the cops,

or anyone else.

Yeah, I can. - Get in.

It feels kinda American now.

They call it Little Chicago.

Or Very Little Chicago.

I don'tremember.

Here's something mega-awesome.

Something to survive crappy days.

Check it out. A video store.

Awesome.

Gerd! Get out here.

Look who I found.

You're back.

Didn't do well in Stockholm?

- I did great, but Susie's gone.

- No wonder, with her lifestyle.

- What kind of "lifestyle"?

- Ignore her.

She's annoyed, 'cause

she got arrested for assault.

Check this.

A movie about me, "Grits Nr. 1".

I'm working on the sequel.

Few get to star in their own movie

without screwing someone.

There's a powerful scene where

I almost die, choking on dinner.

- Real scary. Rent it.

- Well, that does sound interesting.

Hard f***ing work, too.

You don't just shoot.

Everything has to be right.

Light, sound...

Action. Shut up. Damn...

Answer it!

It's that damned German again.

He's stalking me.

Hey! There's an

awesome scene where...

Closed.

For emergencies, call the police.

You need a ride somewhere?

F***.

I knew where Billy Davidson lived.

He might still have

my souped-up moped.

Hey! Look what I found

in the glove compartment!

Moonshine!

Grits has always been like a turd.

A floater that won't flush.

F***.

No one ever fills up the car.

Damn it, Grits!

You're supposed to steer it!

Sh*t. The bad luck won't end.

Poor Grits, having to

do time for drunk driving.

But I felt it was probably

the best thing for him.

- Quick coffee?

- Yeah. That's awful decent of you.

I don't know what to say. I guess we

could organize a search party.

It seems sort of early,

and I have a few days off.

Overtime compensation

that I'd like to use.

- Is she dead?

- I doubt it. I mean...

She could be, but I doubt it.

Why? Has she been ill?

- No.

- That's why the search party is off.

Normally, I'm spontaneous and

quite likely to organize searches.

How long has she been gone?

What day is today? Want milk?

The wife demanded a porch,

or she'd leave him.

They've been on the rocks

for a while. How do I know?

She visits for a humping sometimes.

Cops' wives are like everyone.

Here's a coconut cookie.

The wife made them, with coconut.

Guess what?

Mom thinks dad is bad in bed.

She said so on the phone. But I can

teach you to make the bed, daddy.

Have a coconut thing...

Cut it out! You should be looking

for Susie, not offering cookies!

Uffe, turn it off.

I've told you not to ride around

on seized property.

- Park it. It's not yours.

- But he got it for his birthday.

Go in and tell mommy

you have to go to the bathroom.

You can take it. It was your moped,

right? You can take it later.

The matter is settled.

- What are you thinking about?

- Billy Davidson.

No real cop would behave that way.

He knows something about Susie.

He's just overworked. Cops have

a damned hard job to do.

Just be happy

you got your moped back.

I'd rather have my sister back.

Don't worry. I'll tell you a story

from my life. It's similar to this.

But I have to do it in English,

or I'll start bawling.

I don't want to do that.

- There you go.

- Who do you think it belongs to?

- Fix the potatoes, Gunnar.

- That's not my thing.

For God's sake.

You know how to lift a pan.

Jeez. Those are good potatoes,

King Edward.

Oh, my God...

Grits's answering service.

- That's Davidson's wife.

- Yeah.

- How disgusting.

- Yeah.

- Really, Gunnar. Turn off that filth.

- Yeah.

Stop making noise,

or I'll call the police!

I know the policeman, and he knows

Gunnar and my mother too.

That might work in Stockholm,

but in Vrmland we want quiet.

There might not be a law on the

books, but there's an unwritten one-

- about not making noise

and respecting people.

I'm glad you turned it off.

It's not that you're a bad person.

I over-reacted.

I just had to vent.

Thank you for listening.

I'm tired of your made-up buffoons.

Just admit your guilt.

No. There were

many people involved.

They're too weird. Most crimes

are committed by normal folks.

- They're normal ordinary people.

- Normal?

Imagine Saturday night here,

with all these people.

- That was interesting.

- That's about how it is.

Try that in court.

I'm sure it'll go over well.

Go on. You slept

at the pizza girl's house.

Erik, I think Susie's dead,

and a lot of people know it.

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