The Darwin Awards Page #7

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Coney Island of the Mind.

Hey. Look what I found.

That's great.

But he was referring to

this book by Ferlinghetti...

not some tourist guide.

Well, why don't we just go talk

to this Ferlinghetti guy directly?

- That's a great idea.

- Thank you.

You don't just go talk

to Lawrence Ferlinghetti.

Well, it says right here

that he owns this bookstore.

Um, is this guy here by any chance?

No.

I think he's having a drink over at Tosca.

- Buy me this?

- F*** off.

Sir, have you ever seen this man?

Oh, yeah. That guy.

- He was a real wannabe beat.

- What do you mean?

Well, he filled endless

notebooks with endless poems...

and nobody would publish

them, including myself.

You can imagine how the poor guy felt.

I don't think this man feels anything.

Well, as the man says, "Only

the dead are disconnected."

I remember him. He was a real a**hole.

Do-Do you have, uh... Any

idea where we could find him?

I haven't seen him in years.

I do remember that he

was absolutely obsessed...

with Brautigan's Trout Fishing in America.

Fishing for clues. Of course.

When Brautigan was alive, he used

to camp outside Brautigan's office.

It was really creepy.

Are you talking about that office above

the bar just right across from City Lights?

Vesuvio's. That was the place.

That's a great book, by the way.

Okay, now it really is time to call the cops.

It's not like TV. You can't

break in without a warrant.

For the conviction to stick, we need

evidence linking him to the murder.

Yeah, but you just said we can't break in.

Remember those guys at the rock

concert? Their idea with the rope?

- Do you remember what happened to them?

- They were on drugs.

Precisely my point.

Listen, it'd be a good idea to have

some way to record the evidence.

Siri, when I see the evidence,

I'll give you a thumbs-up.

- Okay. Then I call 911.

- Shh.

Yeah.

Bingo.

What the hell are you doing?

How did you get down here?

Oh, I tied on to the other end of the rope.

That is too much weight.

Okay, maybe you're right.

Damn it! Damn right I'm right.

Are you okay? What should I do?

The rope is slipping. Go up

on the roof and secure it.

Okay.

No. No. Siri! Don't go up on the roof!

Sh*t!

I'm only gonna tell you this once.

Call 911 now.

Salutations.

No!

- You talked to Ferlinghetti.

- You can't!

- Don't give 'em more evidence!

- I don't think I am.

You see, I happen to remember

your peculiar frailty.

- No! Don't!

- Ow! F***er!

Oh, the world is a beautiful

place to be born into...

if you don't much mind a few

dead minds in the higher places...

or a bomb or two now and

then in your upturned faces.

Burrows.

- Catch.

- Oh, sh*t!

Oh, sh*t!

Are you... Numb-nuts.

You could've just let me

fall. Why did you hold on?

Instinct.

I didn't wanna be saved, you f***ing cretin.

Okay.

We shall go no more a-roving.

Is he gonna be all right?

He's got a concussion. I'm gonna

take him over to S.F. General.

Well, can we ride with him at least?

No, sorry. We got no room in the ambulance.

In fact, buddy, you're gonna have to

leave your camera here with your friends.

Well, then I'm not going.

Believe me. You are never

gonna win that argument.

Come on. Let him keep the camera.

I mean, what's the harm?

- Insurance, for one.

- Insurance? Oh. F*** the insurance.

I didn't see anything.

All right.

Well, you got thejob if you want it.

But I never found any common

trait for the X-Factor.

Tomorrow there's gonna be another 10,000

accidents, another thousand murders...

A hundred thousand coronaries.

Burrows.

It is not your job to save the entire world.

That's impossible.

You're right. Maybe the world's

not such a dangerous place.

Oh, damn. I missed it.

- So what are you makin'?...

- Oh, it's a documentary.

- Yeah? On what?

- Uh, paramedics.

- No way. Really?

- Just keep going about your job as if I'm not here.

Just pretend I'm invisible.

Cool, man.

You need anything? You all right? You cool?

No, dude. I'm just happy to be here.

- I feel sorry for you. You don't look so hot.

- Can I ask one question?

- What the hell were you thinking?

- Hey, you know.

Sex, drugs and rock and roll, dude.

You should just focus on the sex and rock

and roll and forget about the drugs, huh?

Actually, you could probably

forget about the sex too.

Stick to rock and roll, dude.

Appreciate it.

And this next song goes out...

to a dearly departed friend, Simon.

I f***ing did something!

You minimum-wage a**hole!

Your father's lost his mind again.

Too much Satan for one hand.

Damn!

Oh, f***.

I think I'm really getting

the hang of this now.

We shall go no more a-roving.

Wait...

Get away from there!

No, Max!

It's not all doughnuts and broads.

Making me...

Ah! God!

Are you okay?

Okay, maybe you're right.

Pathetic!

"Only the dead are disconnected."

Michael? Hello? Is this Michael?

Should I dress up? Were you thinking

about going to someplace that's upscale?

Because I'll have to go home

and change into something else...

because all I have is my work clothes,

and I don't wanna go someplace...

Hello? Hello?

Hello?

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