Sweet Home Alabama Page #2

and give me a divorce.

Come on, Jake, I mean it.|The joke's over.

Let's just finish this.|I've got a plane to catch.

You're shittin' me, right?

You know, I've never actually|understood that expression,...

but, no,|I'm not "shitting" you.

Look, it's even got these idiot-proof|tabs to make it easy.

There's one copy for me,|one copy for you...

and one copy for the lawyers.

What? Speak!

You show up here after 7 years...

without so much as a "Hey, there,|Jake, remember me... your wife?"

Or a "Hi, honey.|Lookin' good.

How's the family?"

You expect me to tell you|you look good?

Did they run out of soap down at|the Piggly Wiggly since I left?

They laugh at that up north|or wherever it is you been?

You knew where I was.

And don't even pretend you spent|all this time missing me.

Oh, I missed you,|all right.

But at this range,|my aim is bound to improve.

Is that a threat?

I've got a lawyer|who charges $350 an hour.

He billed me every time|you sent these papers back.

Well, I'm glad to see|you finally got the message.

Shut up, Bear!|- Shut up, Bryant!

What happened to Bear?|- He died.

You weren't here.

What are you doing?!

Leavin'. You done it.|You should recognize the gesture.

Could we just try to keep this|as civilized as possible?

Please sign these papers|so I can go home.

What do you know from home?

Hell, I bet your folks don't|even know you're in town.

That's my business.

Honey, those people are|the only family you got.

Don't you "honey" me, honey!

Get your butt back in that car,|you drive over and see 'em,...

and then maybe we'll talk.

Jake! You dumb, stubborn,|redneck hick!

The only reason you won't sign these|papers is 'cause I want you to!

Wrong! The only reason|I ain't signin'...

is 'cause you've turned into|some hoity-toity Yankee b*tch...

and I'd like nothin' better|right now than to piss you off!

What are you doin' with|Mose Plydell's plane anyhow?!

That's my business!

Divorce, my ass.

Hey, genius...

Next time you lock somebody out,...

make sure they don't know|where the spare key's hidden.

Well, see, that's the thing|about Hide-A-Keys...

it'd be nice if your wife|told you where it was!

I'm not your wife, Jake.

I'm just the first girl...

that climbed|in the back of your truck.

But you're right...|I have changed.

I don't even know|that girl anymore.

Well, then...|allow me to remind you.

"Born into one of the wealthiest|families of Greenville, Alabama,

her daddy's in cotton and|all that that implies."

There's no listing for an|Earl Carmichael in Greenville.

How about her local high school?

No record of a Melanie|Carmichael attending... ever.

Jesus! Whatever happened|to responsible journalism?

There's something wrong here.

Why would my son do this to me?

Maybe he, um, loves her.

Oh, please!|This is classic rebound.

He's still wounded from...|who was his last girlfriend?

Whitney Truesdale,|lawyer, San Francisco.

Yeah, well, there was|a match made in Heaven...

society, political family,|California...

all those electoral votes.

Get Andrew on the phone.

Since we have a small window|for the Secretary of Housing,

please hold your questions|until after the presentation.

Gentlemen.

Did you see the look|on my mom's face?

I thought her head|was going to explode.

Yeah, what did she say?

That I should date women|like Melanie, not marry them.

That's harsh.|- That's Mom.

Thank you.|- Thanks a lot.

We hope to have the Bronx Children's Hospital |open by fall 2003.

Oh, speak of the devil.|Hello?

So, have you two lovebirds|set a date?

I'm pleading the Fifth.

Okay, fine, just try to keep|your secrets. I dare you.

Oh, at least you sound like|you're in a better mood.

My approval rating|went up 2 points.

It seems the public likes|being reminded I am a mother.

God, always running for office.

I'm only thinking of you.|Say, um...

do you happen to have the Carmichaels'|number down there in Greenville?

I thought perhaps|I should introduce myself.

I would like to meet them first,|if you don't mind.

You do realize the press|is going to be all over this.

Happy couples don't sell.

So if there are any skeletons|in her closet, Andrew,...

we need to know about them.

You make clothes, right?

I design them.|There's a big difference.

Did you design anything|with stripes?

You called the sheriff?!

You know that old bastard|hates me!

For good reason!

Well, hell's bells, if|it ain't Felony Melanie.

Wade!

Hot damn, girl,|do we miss you around here!

Hey, I think I saw poor, old|Fuzz just the other day.

Oh, God,|you had to bring that up.

I can't believe|you're the sheriff!

Yep, I get to frisk pretty|little things like you all day...

and get paid for it.

Wade, can you try and be|a little more professional?

We got us a crime suspect here.

Now, Melanie, you can't just go|breaking into people's houses.

I didn't break in, Wade.|I used a key...

my key.

Well, it still ain't your house, darlin'.|I'm gonna have to escort you out.

Use the cuffs, Wade, please?

If you get him to sign these,|I'll let you run me out of town.

Now, that's none of your concern.

Well, what do we got here?

A bill of divorcement?

Hell, boy, I thought you said|you took care of this.

And I thought I had.

Obviously not.

Well, if you two are still|married, it's her house, too.

This here ain't nothin'|but a domestic dispute.

He didn't hit you, did he?

If he took a swing at you,|I'll take him in right now.

We take that stuff|pretty serious nowadays.

No, Wade,|Jake's never hit me.

You know what?

I don't have a single childhood memory|that doesn't have you two in it.

And that includes the night|I lit my ass on fire. Remember?

Wade...

Memory Lane is closed.

Ah, boy, you two got a whole lot|of catchin' up to do...

so I'm just gonna|leave you to it.

Man, I set you up with|your wife. You owe me one!

Why won't you just|sign the papers?!

There is nothin' I can do.

The law is the law,|and she has done nothin' wrong.

I suppose shoplifting steaks|at Winn-Dixie's okay.

I took 'em back,|and you know it!

You remember that vandalism out|at the stockyard? Totally her!

Like I could tip a cow|by myself.

Wade... isn't there|some outstanding warrant

for whoever dumped your mama's|tractor in the fishpond?

We only have 10 of these, and|it's gonna be gone for good.

So if you are loving|this monster...

We have eight only?

If I knew how to say that in|Italian, I would, but I don't.

If you love this...

Who could be callin'|at this hour?

Hello?

Hey, Mama.

Melanie? Is that you?

Oh, it's so late.|Are you all right?

I just thought|I'd surprise you.

Well, this certainly is a fine|surprise, hearing from you...

you know,|being such a busy girl and all.

Of course, I call people while I'm|doin' the dishes or shellin' peas.

Oprah calls it "multitasking."

Mama, the call isn't the surprise.|I'm in town.

Oh, Lord, love a duck!

Oh, my baby girl|has finally come home.

Earl, she's in town.|- You gonna repeat everything she says?

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