Tusk Page #6

Better to be a walrus.

Yes, Officer,

it's B-R-Y-T-O-N...

We know he rented a car, but we

don't know exactly where from,

so as soon as we land in Winnipeg,

we're just gonna go to every

rental desk at the airport

and see if anyone recognizes him.

Tell 'em if can't find the agency,

we can find the car

using its GPS system.

Recent pictures? Yes, there are some

recent pictures up on the website.

- It's NotSeeParty. com...

- Spell it, spell it!

Hello? Hello?

They f***ing hung up.

"The sun was shining on the sea

"Shining with all his might

"He did his very best to make

"The billows smooth and bright

"And this was odd, because it was

"The middle of the night. "

Oh, now, now, Mr. Tusk. There,

there, there, I understand.

It's so very hard to be...

...the elephant of the deep blue sea.

...Stop, stop. Stop it.

Stop it. Walruses never cry!

Oh, I've missed you, Mr. Tusk.

How I've missed our merry

times together on Ponder Rock.

I've regretted every day my

return to this wretched...

Civilization.

This anxious, silly world,

with all the banality

of a breakfast cereal.

The worst of man has long been

fetid with greed and indifference.

The best of man

has long been lobotomized

by reality television.

I never should have left the wilderness.

I never should have left you.

This writhing nest of

two-legged bipeds...

Wallace!

Each devouring the other to stay alive.

And I betrayed you for what?

Man's world?

An immoral cesspool,

boded with the wayward

and the destitute...

Howard Howe.

You gotta call the cops. Call the cops.

I don't know exactly what happened.

I'm scared shitless, man.

- I think he wants to turn

me into, like, a... Like, a...

- That's it?

- It just ends.

Are you sure he is

not pulling your legs?

Getting up to some good

old American monkeyshines?

That doesn't sound like monkeyshines.

But you say you do

these comedy podcasts.

Could this just be

for grins and giggles?

We do... We do a podcast.

But he wouldn't take something

this far. He's not that kind of guy.

Okay, now stick with me here.

I don't mean to be indelicate,

but could there be some

sort of sexual angle?

A romantic entanglement?

An affair or something?

No. He's not that kind of guy.

Okay. Well, I did some checking,

and we don't have a Howard

Howe anywhere in Manitoba.

Sh*t!

With regard to your friend,

I asked Border Patrol

if they got a report of

him leaving the country yet.

They say he come into

Winnipeg, and that's it.

Don't you two worry.

I'm gonna issue a

Missing Persons on him,

same as they do in the States.

Thank you.

But I'll tell you, that leg bit...

It sure puts the BM

in the PM's coffee, eh?

That is something.

It's creepy, right?

No, no, it's something.

I had a fella come in here

from Quebec two days ago,

asking about any legless

bodies that might've turned up.

Used to be a cop.

Said he is hunting some

kinda serial killer.

I told him, "Canada doesn't

have any serial killers.

"Unless you count the pothead

"who took out all the Cap'n Crunch

last night at the Eh-2-Zed. "

Anyway...

He gave me his number and he left it.

I'll take it.

Ahoy, matey!

You know, it occurs to me...

...that if you are to

fulfill your destiny...

If you are to be a true walrus...

Well, Mr. Tusk...

A walrus must learn to swim.

Whoa, good!

Now, that's it. Show

me how the fishies swim.

Swim. Now, come on.

Come on, damn you. Swim!

Yes, come on. Swim!

I am Guy Lapointe. That is my name.

Guy Lapointe.

And I spend 20 years as the inspector

of the Surete du Quebec.

And but for the last

10 years of my life,

I have been hunting an animal

who is doing the masquerade as the man.

I have been hunting this Howard Howe.

Howard Howe,

this elusive, uh...

Devil made of the flesh,

this serial killer

who makes the bringing

of the blood and terror

to the true north.

I...

Am very dedicated man

and I have sacrificed my life...

Too many marriages,

any chance at happiness,

and very likely, some may say, my, uh...

sanity.

All in the pursuit of

this butcher of the men.

And because of this...

The solace of the sleep

most of the time eludes me.

But last night, after you call me,

I sleep like the breast-fed baby.

And I wake up this

morning, in the morning,

and I know that, in my

bones, my quarry is close.

And he is so close

that I can almost smell his sh*t.

Pardon my French.

Who has the Blue Skies with fries?

- Oh, that would be me.

- There you go.

How about the Gimli Slider, no onions?

That would also be me.

And a Mon-Sewer Maurice Milkshake.

That would also be me.

Okay, here are some napkins.

You're gonna need those.

All right. Have a nice flight.

Thank you so much.

Now, I'll tell you something.

They don't have these

back home, you know.

You throw a rock in Quebec City,

and it'll land in a Chez Ashton. But...

Not a single goddamn Gimli Slider.

And that, in my opinion,

is the only failure of the

mighty people of Quebec.

How many people has he killed?

Twenty-three.

And if your friend has been abducted

by the same monster that I am hunting,

it is probably going

to be 24 pretty soon.

His MO is always the same.

A month after the disappearance,

we find pieces of the skinned body.

And the legs are always

amputated at the knees.

Arms are always fused to the body,

like a kind of a crucified T-Rex.

You know, like that.

That's what it looks like.

And always the mouth and the

teeth have been disturbed.

How?

Mmm.

With a very thick, um...

Ah!

What was I saying?

How have they been disturbed?

In every case, the tongues

have been ripped out.

Jesus!

Oh, yes.

It is one f*** of a bummer to

look at, I can tell you that.

Were any of them...

Sexually...

Oh, no, no. He doesn't

touch them like that.

He butchers them.

Amputates limbs, cuts out tongues.

But he don't do nothing

sexy with them, you know.

Never.

The boys on the force nicknamed

this killer "The First Wife,"

because the first wife

doesn't let you talk,

she doesn't let you go anywhere,

and she does not f*** you.

See it's...

And she don't f*** you.

It's... It's funnier if you've

been married a few times.

Maybe we should be

talking to someone else.

Mmm...

I think that that's a very good idea

for you to go and talk to someone else,

Mr. Big Bear Riding a Bulldozer.

Or maybe you could just

ferme your f***ing bouche

for one second

and listen to Guy Lapointe.

Hmm?

- Let me tell a story.

- Okay.

I believe that two...

Can you come closer?

Can you come closer?

Closer, you... Can you

come... Can you come closer?

I believe that two years back,

I met this son of a b*tch.

Ah, well!

Good afternoon to you,

sir. I am Guy Lapointe.

Surete du Quebec.

Oh! Did you come here about the spider?

Hmm?

I called the police two days ago

because there's a big ol'

spider in my potty hole.

Your "potty hole"?

The shitter!

...Oh, I see.

So you have some sort of creepy

crawler thing in your toilet box?

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