The Opposite of Sex Page #6

So she gets Carl to call a local buddy,|run Randy's license plate...

and put out an official APB on|us.

you gotta hand it to her,|she always gets her way.

And it's not sex appeal.|She's beyond sex, like amoebas.

Don't give him any names.

Anyway, some cop somewhere spots|Randy's car...

which is at least gonna liven|things up as far as I'm concerned.

Because frankly, I'm starting to|think Randy's missing more than a ball.

Hotel phone calls are too expensive,|and we can't afford it.

We can't afford it, 'cause you spent|$4000 on a f***ing bike yesterday.

Would you watch your language,|please?

No. Why don't you watch my language,|I'll watch my money.

I want the rest of it back.

It's the husband's job to decide|what happens with the money.

Bible boy, you're not my f***ing|husband!

Now give me my money.

This is what happens when you talk|to your mother.

You get all worked up,|bent out of shape.

I'm going home.

You can't go home, Dedee!

There will be a ticket at the|airport for me by five.

Come on, you gotta stay here with me!|I prayed on this!

Pray on this, you freak.

Come on, I got your gun here!

That's great. What are you gonna do,|shoot me, shoot yourself?

You don't treat me fair.|That's a lot of driving up here.

You asked me to come, I came.|No stopovers or nothing.

I'm just asking you to stand by your|man like I'm standing next to you.

A lot of guys would've said,|"Shucks, she took up with that|homosexual."

"She turned her back on|righteousness."

How about blowing you in the|backseat of your car every day after|band?

That was a stairway to heaven,|right?

You waiting on somebody or|something?

Yeah, the guy from the bike shop.

He's coming to take it back.

The bike.

Don't worry. I'll leave you enough|money to get back to Louisiana.

- I just don't intend to be--|- God damn it, Dedee!

Why are you acting this way?

I think you hurt the baby.

What did you think,|I'd be the dead one?

I'm the f***ing narrator, guys,|keep up.

It would be a lot easier|for all of us right now|if Randy was someone we hated.

But he was nice mostly. Even I|liked him.

So in order to get you to swallow|it and not totally hate me...

I'm gonna show you something|that happens in, like, five hours.

He had a very enlarged heart.

He would've lived, I don't know, not|more than six months.

At least he died quick, never knew|what hit him.

He looks peaceful, probably an|orphan.

But it's still murder.

Just not as unlikeable.

What is that, only one ball?

It's me!

Come on, it's me Matt, open up.

I'm so glad you're here.

I know you don't wanna go back|to Indiana to have the baby.

No, I do. Indiana, Louisiana,|I don't care, let's go.

You mean that?

What about this Randy guy?

He's a jerk, I can't stand him.

It's not like we fight--

Who's that?

That's Lucia, Bill and Carl.

Who's Carl?

A friend from back home, a sheriff|from town. That's how we found you.

Can I talk to you inside for|a minute?

Sure, yeah.

What are they talking about?

You think they're just talking?

Yeah, I do.

You think you're being nice, but|it's really just self-destructive.

When is it too hot to analyze me...

a hundred and ten, a hundred and|fifteen degrees?

You've got a death wish.

It's so selfish.

I have one, too,|but I direct it toward others.

Lucia, look at this.

Randy Cates, it's Palm Springs|Harley.

I'm here to get the bike|like your lady said.

Stay here.

Of course.

That's their room.

Were you looking for Dedee Truitt?

They're not there.|Kick it, kick it in.

Harder. Do it again.

- You guys in yet?|- It's Carl.

They're not in here.|We'll be right down.

They won't get far.|They put an APB out and mug shots.

We're not talking without a lawyer.|Say nothing.

Poor kid.

You still think she just needs a|little love? She's a murderer now.

We don't know that yet.

You better hope she's a murderer.|Otherwise Matt is.

We'd like to ask you to stay in Palm|Springs for a few days.

Really? Are we under arrest?

At our expense, of course.

Must have a nice budget.

Carl Tippett, St. Joe County|Sheriff's Department, Indiana.

A colleague.

I'm checking in.

I said I'm sleeping.

Come on, Lucia, let me in.

It's open.

Good. My delivery from 1-800-PITY.

We shouldn't be alone,|not after the day we had.

Any news?

I went down to the station.|They found the motorcycle.

They sold it, probably bought a car.

Don't worry, they'll find them.

I can sleep really well, then.

Where's Carl?

I don't know, bed?

Yeah, I bet.

Like you give a sh*t.|Like this is incendiary material.

Does this have any effect|on you at all?

What am I supposed to say?

I could dance around you naked.

Vagina, vagina, vagina.

Does that word do anything for you?

I don't think it does much for anyone,|gay or straight. It's too clinical.

It's like dentifrice for toothpaste.

It's so f***ing ironic.

Do you know what my mom said when|she found out Tom was gay?

She said, it's such a lonely life.

She said that to the single straight|girl. Isn't that funny?

I don't know, I just don't...

I don't get sex.

You should get out more.

I mean, I don't understand sex.

I don't get it, get it?

It seems like a lot of trouble for|not much.

Am I the only one that thinks this?

I don't think you're the tip|of an iceberg, frankly.

I would rather have a back rub.

It lasts longer,|and there's no fluids.

What's so great about that?

It's like, "Hi, I'd like to blow my|nose on your face."

You wouldn't like that, would you?

And after they do it,|they never phone you.

Or a shampoo.

Just a really great shampoo.|That would make sense.

If you were chasing this a**hole|all around the country|because he gave great shampoos...

It's not just sex, I care for Matt.

It is sex, Bill.|You just won't admit it.

'Cause you wanna be above that.

You wanna think that nothing that|happened happened because you like sex.

I'm really beat.

Sex kills, Bill.|You won't accept that.

But why do you think there are no|more real Hawaiians?

And why would they even come up|with the phrase "died in childbirth"...

if it only happened one time?

It's f***ing dangerous, sex.

Tom didn't die because of sex.

Didn't he?

PC crap aside, didn't sex kill Tom?

If he just couldn't get enough|shampoos or back rubs...

wouldn't he still be here today?

You might as well say I killed him.

You didn't give it to him.

No, but some other f*ggot did,|isn't that what you think?

What I think is fine...

chase this bimbo from Indiana|to Chippewa Falls for all I care.

Go ahead, throw away your|reputation...

your job and your students,|whatever...

because you want Matt.

It's your right.

Just don't say that it's about love,|okay?

You're an English teacher.|Call things by their right name.

Okay, fine, fine.

Vagina and sour f***ing grapes.|Class dismissed?

What is it?

I heard. I'm sorry.

Is there anything I can do?

Here. I bought you some beer|at the Seven-Eleven.

I needed shampoo.

Are you okay?

I have a headache.

I give good neck rubs.

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