The Do-Over Page #5

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You're right, I'm not a coroner.

I'm a f***ing...

guidance counselor.

Shut the f*** up.

How could a guidance counselor

take on trained assassins?

I went to police academy.

I wanted to be a motorcycle cop.

I took it very serious.

I was number one in the class

in marksmanship.

Then why aren't you a cop?

- 'Cause I couldn't pop a f***ing wheelie.

- You couldn't pop a wheelie?

And I didn't fare too well

on the psychological exam.

That I believe. Wow.

Now, where did you get these dead bodies?

I found them dead.

They were... gone.

I didn't kill 'em.

And you never thought, for once,

that maybe their family,

maybe their friends, a cop,

a ten-foot-tall assassin

might come lookin' for 'em?

No... but I guess that's why

I should've come clean before.

You always think sh*t through

better than I do.

What's our next move?

What do we do now?

What do we do? That's easy.

We turn ourselves in.

Okay.

I want to do that, too.

We're looking at 25 to 30 years,

but I can handle that.

No! No, you said it was five to ten.

That was before we stole all that money.

And we shot Dawn's husband.

You shot Dawn's husband!

I only shot him

because you tag-teamed his wife,

you f***ing degenerate.

What do you think a Puerto Rican jury

is gonna say about that?

Oh, my God, we're screwed.

- God, I'm an idiot.

- No, no, no, no, no.

- We can get out of this.

- I'm so stupid.

All we gotta do is find out why these guys

wanna kill us and then we'll stop 'em.

They're involved with somethin'

f***in' shady, right?

The mob or drugs or some sh*t,

I don't know.

- Yeah.

- You know who would know?

Who would know?

Dr. Ronald Fishman's wife...

who happens to be pretty hot, by the way.

So we decided to go back

to the States to talk to Mrs. Fishman.

As suicidal as it seemed to follow Max,

it was my only option.

And with no place to live

and no way to get around,

we found a way to combine the two.

We found the house easy enough

but we couldn't just go up

and knock on the door.

Our meeting with Mrs. Fishman

had to seem accidental.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, you like that, do you?

I know you like that.

'Cause you're my dirty,

crazy, sweet girl.

- Max?

- Oh!

What's up?

What are you doing?

What was I doing?

I, uh... was having some fun,

I guess, you know.

We all didn't get to play

Three Amigos the other night.

So, I was just looking for some relief.

You... Who were you talking to?

I was talking to a 1-800 number, uh,

"Dial-a-boner."

A girl talks dirty to you

while you f*** a doll.

It's five bucks a minute.

Good to be back in the States.

You say that like it's so normal.

Oh, there she is.

There she is.

Oh, sh*t.

Yeah.

Well, doc,

your wife has a very nice body.

What's the plan?

- Follow her. Just follow her.

- What? Yeah?

You can do this.

You can do this.

Go, go, go.

Don't let her get too far away.

What the f***?

Oh, my God!

Oh, my God! Are you okay?

Are you all right?

Jesus, what the hell were you thinking?

That's why I bought you a phone book!

So you could see

over the f***ing steering wheel!

Sit on it next time!

It's okay, sweetheart.

I'm an EMT.

Let me just make sure you're all right,

check your head.

What's your name, dear?

Heather Fishman.

And how many a**hole drivers

can you see right now?

- One.

- Right on the money. Good.

So, can we get you back to your house?

- Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks.

- Yeah.

Oh!

Easy, easy, easy, easy.

I just wanna say,

even though I'm friends with him,

if you choose to sue him,

I will testify on your behalf.

Not a problem.

Aw, that's sweet of you,

but I don't think that'll be necessary.

- I'm pretty sure it's just a bruise.

- Yeah?

- Yeah.

- How about the ice?

- Let's get the ice.

- I know. I got it.

- Oh, you found the kitchen. Okay.

- Yeah, that's right.

All right, here you go.

I'm gonna...

- I'll put it right there.

- Okay.

I think if you elevate it

above your heart,

that's what's supposed to be good for it.

It's actually my other knee.

Okay, all right. So, lift that up.

And I'll put the ice like this.

What are you doing right now?

- Oh, my God! I'm so sorry!

- Ow!

I'm sorry, I didn't...

- It's fine.

- Here. Here. Okay.

Don't be mad at him, he gets nervous

every time he likes somebody.

Whoops, did I say that?

Oh, you want us to get that for you?

- Oh, no, that's okay, I can handle it.

- But your knee...

You guys can leave, I'm fine.

- Honestly, guys, you can leave.

- Sure.

What do we do?

Mrs. Fishman, I'm so sorry.

I'm gonna have to get you out of here.

- Okay?

- Mmm-hmm.

Whoa, whoa. Mrs. Fishman!

Wait! Wait! Wait! Please!

We're here to help you,

not hurt you, I promise.

We got off on the wrong foot.

My name is Charlie.

What the f***?

Please, let me go!

Let me out!

- Let me out!

- Heather!

- Let me out!

- Calm down!

Calm down, we're the good guys,

I promise you.

- You have to trust us. Please.

- "Trust you"?

You kidnap me, and you hit me

with a Winnebago...

We did that for a reason!

- "A reason"?

- Listen to me, I have proof.

- We are not lying.

- You better show me proof!

Mrs. Fishman, this is your husband.

- Oh, my God!

- What are you doing?

She wanted proof!

A dead, naked picture of him

makes us look like the bad guys.

- Hey, I don't know.

- Don't you think?

Can you please pull over?

I can't breathe.

- It's so hot in here.

- I'll pull over! I'll pull over!

- She's upset.

- Yeah.

She's upset.

Do you think we could run to the doctor

for two seconds, I just feel like this...

We don't got time, buddy.

Just get over that.

So Ronnie's really gone?

Uh... yeah, I'm afraid so.

I have been looking for him.

I kept praying that he was safe, but...

deep down,

I knew something bad had happened.

We are so sorry for your loss.

If it's any consolation,

your husband went quickly and peacefully.

Just...

two shots to the skull,

- right through there, then...

- out the end.

Oh, my God!

What he says is...

He's saying that we're very sorry,

but we also have one more problem.

You see, there are some people out there

that think I'm your husband,

- and they're trying to kill me.

- Right.

Why do they think you're Ronnie?

Well, he stole your husband's ID

and started impersonating him.

He's also wearing his clothes

like a f***ing weirdo.

We figure the same people

that are trying to kill us...

are the ones who shot your husband.

"Us"? And who are you pretending to be?

The legendary Butch Ryder.

Butch Ryder?

- You know him?

- Yeah.

Yeah.

We found pictures of you and your husband

on Butch's tablet.

Was he a patient of his or something?

No, Ronnie didn't practice anymore.

He ran a pharmaceutical research firm.

Butch was his friend.

They used to ride motorcycles together.

He... he said he was a fun guy.

Fun enough to land himself on the FBI's

Most Wanted list.

- What?

- Yeah.

- Oh, my God.

- Both of their bodies were found together.

We think maybe Butch got your husband

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