Slim Susie Page #5

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Thirteen is snitching.

There's more money.

Don't worry, Erik. Puke all you want.

I'll clean it up later.

Nothing to worry about.

There.

You sit in the front.

- Come on. We're class mates.

- You didn't come to the reunion.

You upset everyone.

I'd made a killer punch.

- But that was two years ago.

- That's nothing.

- I'm putting the baby seat here.

- You can't bring the kid.

You drive, Mick.

- How much do you know?

- About what?

- Like us shooting Susie.

- Are you slow, or something?

- I have something to tell.

- What's in the bag? What smells?

It's crab, but nevermind.

I have something to confess.

It's just awful.

Shouldn't you be taping this?

- Interview with Gudrun...

- Mrtensson.

- September 30th...

- My maiden name is Karlsson.

That doesn't matter.

You need to stand a little closer.

Or you'll have to speak up.

I can hold it.

I bought these with stolen money.

A blowdryer and a fur coat.

I took the money from an estate.

I'm fully prepared to do my time.

I thought I needed

to change my life.

That can be quite costly.

I booked a trip

I haven't paid for yet.

I just wanted to

get out of this mess.

Ouch.

You can leave a message

at the tone.

- Oh, hello...

- God damn you.

- You were in my apartment.

- No, I wasn't.

This was in my kitchen. No one else

writes love letters to The Chimp.

Pull, you stinking little brat.

- Open up, Susie!

- Damn.

Open the door, Susie.

I should have

split the money with you.

I'm sorry about that. I don't know

what happened. Now I want to.

- Where are they?

- I'm sure you know.

I need the money more than you.

I'm starting a new life in Stockholm.

You're not the only who wants

a new life. You're all set.

You're a youth.

Pretty, slim and attractive.

I deserve the money, too. 22 years

I spent at the nursing home.

For 22 years I've been sitting

at death beds, listening...

- The money's not here anyway.

- I'll smash your damned Chimp photo!

No! Put the photo down,

and I'll tell you.

Here's the deal. I hid them,

but I don't remember where.

- I don't believe you.

- I can well imagine.

I was high as hell, and

I hid them somewhere clever.

- Clever? You can't find them.

- The cleverness wore off.

You'll never be clever, Susie.

Know this:
I'll always be smarter

than you, you stinky old hag!

You bastard!

I picked up the suitcase

and came back.

And then the mailman helped me

pull the suitcase to the car.

The same day they buried the old

lady who had saved 500000.

No one suspected

there were two bodies in there.

I don't think I believe you.

The tub has a bullet hole.

She must have been shot.

What are you doing?

She was dead before she was shot.

It's all on this tape.

You go stand over there.

You, too.

- One question:
Where is the money?

- Take it easy. I don't know.

- I swear.

- You do it.

This is like a movie. Stand closer

together, so I get both of you.

- You can't shoot me.

- Didn't we want the money?

He knows nothing about that,

but does know we killed Susie.

- Oh, right.

- I don't know where the money is.

I can't do this. We collected

Star Wars stuff together.

- Shoot.

- Calm down, Gerd.

Erik, do you still have your laser

swords and the starship?

He was into Obi-Wan Kenobi,

and I dug Princess Lena.

Shoot, or we'll all go to jail.

I'll be in until I'm 90.

- Could you do it yourself? Please?

- Calm down, Gerd.

- Unbelievable.

- But I killed her first.

Here's what we'll do. We'll just

let bygones be bygones.

Mostly for your sake.

And for her I'm making a porch?

People are so damned phoney.

Damn it, Gerd.

Grits. I'm down at the mill,

dealing with things.

- Who is this?

- Listen. Leave my wife alone.

- Who was it?

- Tore. He's at the hamburger stand.

- So, what happens to me now?

- Nothing. You can go home.

Take the fur coat

and blowdryer with you.

- Screw this, Gerd.

- You're staying.

No. I'm not doing

this childish crap. I quit.

- I told you to stay.

- No. I'm going to clean up my life.

Start doing normal,

reality-based stuff.

Not just drink beer

and hide my baldness.

- Yeah, real smart.

- Smart? Do you mean it?

Thanks, Gerd. You're the first

person to call me smart.

Smart...

What the f*** are you doing?

What the hell?

Gerd? What the hell

have you done to Grits?

What's the matter with Grits?

Gerd?

You've gone too far, Gerd.

Come on, give up.

I just turned on the alarm,

so all cars are alerted.

Davidson. Yeah, good. Bye.

The walkie talkie has no range.

It's from 1987. Pure crap.

OK, good. Bye.

That was them. They'll be here soon.

Are you the only one here, Gerd?

Davidson. I don't have time

to talk to the press.

Who tipped you off?

Alright, but make it quick.

Some damned junkie

woman here has...

Why did you run,

if you were innocent?

I don't know.

- Where's the blowdryer lady?

- We kept running.

And when we came

to the kiosk, there she was.

She seemed to be choking, from

a Grits and mashed potatoes.

Where's the money? I

- Unbellevable.

- But I killed her first.

Oh, sh*t...

Sorry.

- Who are you calling?

- The cops.

Not the cops here.

I'll talk to them in Stockholm.

- I'll join you. I've had it here.

- I gotcha.

Wait here for me, and I'll go

pack my bag. Wait here!

Damn it. I hate sad endings.

The interview cassette

is in the stereo over there.

If Susie had been my sister,

she wouldn't be dead.

To each his own.

It's a free country, unfortunately.

Let me go now.

If you tell a single person

that I got a little sad...

I will kill you.

Yeah.

Bye bye, hometown. Or?

Look.

ERIK SVRD:

SLIM SUSIE:

Translation:
John EThelin

Priredil:
Pelish

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