The Singing Detective Page #2

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equals loss of brain cells.

Do you think you have

a positive attitude?

Don't... don't.

You're going to crack me up.

Well, that depends on whether

we're talking donuts you dunk

or black feminist lesbians.

l'm in favor of both,

up to a point.

You know, your illness,

to a large...

Will l be able to move

on my own three feet?

Will l hold a pen

or a tit again?

Never mind the rhetoric.

l can get that from

a doctor, Doctor.

l have seen a lot of patients

who are as bad as you are,

but not one of them has reacted

with such aggression.

What they do, sing madrigals?

Well, they don't act

like they've fallen

into a sewer.

Ah, see...

l thought you were

pushing tranquilizers.

l didn't realize you

had a deodorant in mind.

You should take them,

you know, the tranquilizers.

No! No, no and no.

How long are you going

to see your plight

through a blinding hot rage,

Mr. Dark? Hmm?

What do you live by?

What? Come on.

All right,

it's an embarrassing question,

but surely

there must be something

in a time of crises...

What do you believe in?

Genocide.

What?

Genocide.

Starting in Los Angeles and

working its way eastward.

l believe in so many things.

lnfanticide, insecticide,

cy... anide, suicide,

AlDS...

Okay.

All right. Okay.

l put my faith in cholesterol,

caffeine, nicotine, alcohol,

President Bush,

carbon monoxide, masturbation,

nuclear first-strike,

the Reader's Digest and...

not properly labeling poisons.

Are you done?

But most of all,

Doc, most of all, l believe

in the one good thing

that comes hurtling

out of people's mouths.

Ralph. Vomit. Puke.

The Technicolor yawn.

Cookie dough!

There is a good man here.

-Uh-huh.

-He's new.

He's very alert

and sympathetic.

Dr. Gibbon.

Doctor... of what?

Skin, joints, zoology?

He's a psychotherapist.

Go f*** yourself!

You will never

get on top of your condition

until you deal

with your bitterness.

Start over.

Reassemble yourself.

Reassemble myself?

With what?

Many a tear has to fall

Do, do, do, do, do

-But it's all

-Do, do, do, do, do

ln the game

Do, do, do, do, do, do, do

All in the wonderful game

Do, do, do, do, do

That we know as love

Do, do, do, do, do, do, do

You have words with him

And your future's

looking dim...

Sorry, guys, l need five.

The words are breaking my heart.

See you gators later.

ln a while, reptile.

Dan Dark?

ls it you,

the guy l've been waiting for

ever since Sax

invented the phone?

Come on, are you the big cheese

with the fat contract

who just loves

the way l tickle a tune?

Sorry, no.

Yeah, that's right, trouble.

You're in trouble.

l'm told you can help me.

You get results.

Oh, l get the cases

the polite guys pass.

See, l get the jobs the guys

who don't sing don't get.

So, what's the story?

Who's the dame?

How do you know there's a dame?

There's always a dame.

Tell me, am l right...

or am l right?

There's always a dame.

Am l right, or am l right?

There's always a body, too.

Talking to yourself again?

l had on my best pajamas,

the ones with red stripes

and the blue forget-me-nots.

And l was powdered

under the armpits

and talculmed

between each toe

'cause a million bucks

was about to call

and l was ready for it.

l see.

High temperature again.

When she moved her lips

l felt like a tulip

in dry season

when the first raindrop

smacked into it.

l decided to open up.

Boy, was l green.

Or do l mean wet?

Come to grease me, did ya?

lf you're ready.

As ready as a back axle.

Okay, let's get these off.

l'll try not to hurt.

Okay.

You look better.

Thanks.

Oh, cock.

Cock, do not crow!

Poor cock.

Do not stir.

Think of something boring.

Something very, very boring.

Oh. Quick.

The Mormon Tabernacle Choir

now brings you....

selections from

the Sound of Music.

Snoopy pictures on the wall.

Nine grain toast with...

reduced sugar marmalade. Oh!

Old baseball players.

Pia coladas!

Sorry, is it too hard?

Go. Fine.

Not... not too hard.

lt's worst of all here,

inside your thighs.

Huh.

Organic pizza.

Bumper stickers that ask you

to honk for Jesus.

Worrying about whales

and, oh, God,

oh, what about

f***ing baby seals?

Fortune cookie messages,

and... and denim accessories.

Oh, muppets and puppets!

Sorry, l...

l'll have to lift your penis now

to grease around it.

Bum, bum, bum, bum,

bum, bum, bum, bum

Bum, bum, bum,

bum, bum, bum

Bum, bum, bum, bum,

bum, bum, bum, bum

Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum

Mr. Sandman

Bring me a dream

Bum, bum, bum, bum

Make him the cutest

that l've ever seen

Bum, bum, bum, bum

Give him two lips

like roses and clover

Bum, bum, bum, bum

Then tell him that his

lonesome nights are over

Sandman

l'm so alone

Bum, bum, bum, bum

Don't have nobody

to call my own

Bum, bum, bum, bum

Please turn

on your magic beam

Mr. Sandman,

bring me a dream

Bum, bum, bum, bum,

bum, bum, bum, bum

Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum,

bum, bum, bum

Bum, bum, bum, bum,

bum, bum, bum, bum

Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum,

bum, bum, bum

Mr. Sandman

Bring me a dream

Make him the cutest

that l've ever seen

Give him the word

that l'm not a rover...

Sorry.

l'm going to have

to lift your penis

now to grease around it.

...his lonesome nights

are over

Sandman

l'm so alone

Don't have nobody

to call my own

Please turn on your magic beam

Ah!

l'm so sorry.

That's the one part of me

that still sort of functions.

We don't have to talk about it,

do we?

No.

They say she was with me that

night, but l swear to God...

Swear to something

you believe in, bud.

l swear on my mother's grave

Nina left me alive and unharmed.

That her name? The whore?

Why do you call her that?

Dog sh*t by another name

smells just as foul, pal,

and it sticks to the bottom

of your blue suede shoe

no matter what

you call it, okay?

You've stepped into

something nasty.

You want me to clean it up.

l want you to find out

what happened to her

after she left me...

and to prove nothing bad

happened to her

from my hands.

But it did.

What?

Wouldn't that be the way

her mother would see it?

Her mother,

for Christ's sakes?

You just swore on your mother's

grave, Mr. Binney.

l'm not hiring you

for a mouthful of cant

and humbug, Mr. Dark.

Maybe the cops are fixing

to fry you, Binney.

Maybe you're playing

some deeper game.

You're not a

nice guy, Dark.

Ah, but you'll pay me,

Binney...

and you'll pay me double

for the cant and the humbug.

Period.

Part of the service, period.

End paragraph.

All right, so, uh,

you're gonna wait for

him here, all right?

Yeah, all right.

Cuckoo man.

My book.

What's it doing here?

What's going on?

Your book, Mr. Dark.

Happened to pick up

a copy

the other day.

Oh, yeah? Where?

Fertilizer factory?

He said out of the side

of his mouth.

Gibbon. How are you,

Mr. Dark?

Can't... shake.

Oh, yes, of course.

l'm sorry.

And l wouldn't if l could.

l'm here under protest.

Well, l see. A kidnap.

Little men shouldn't sit

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