In the Mouth of Madness

Hello?

Hello, Admitting.

This is Saperstein.

Where is he?

He's cleared Admitting?

Right.

Bring him in.

He's coming.

Good, good.

Trent?

John J.

Put him in number nine.

You son of a bitch.

You, argh...

- Don't. - Heh.

- Hang on to him. - Don't!

No.

- No, no, no. - Come on. Get him in there.

No, not me!

No, wait, wait.

This is wrong. Look, I'm sorry about the balls.

It was a lucky shot, that's all.

Wait!

- Thank you. - Wait!

I'm not insane. You hear me?

I'm not insane!

I'm not if he's not!

Oh, me neither. Me neither.

I'm not insane!

Me neither!

I'm not insane!

Yes, doctor? It worked...

Oh, no.

Not the Carpenters too.

This is a rotten way to end it.

This is not the ending. You haven't read it yet.

- Yes, just a minute. - Here you are, doctor.

Thank you.

All right.

- Came in this afternoon? -Yes.

How did you get here so fast?

We've been monitoring admissions through police and paramedic channels.

- This one fit the symptoms. -You think he's one of them?

Mr. Saperstein, I promise you, that's what I'm here to find out.

Things must be getting pretty bad out there...

...to bring you fellas in, heh.

- Is this it? -Yes.

- Did he make any requests? -Just...

...one.

A, uh, single black crayon.

- John? -Hang on.

What's up?

My name is Dr. Wrenn.

And I'm going to try and get you out of here.

After all my redecorating? Heh.

No, I think I'll stay.

There's a guard with a pair of swollen testicles...

...who swears you wanted out of here.

I, uh... Well...

...I've changed my mind.

I see.

The crosses are a nice touch.

They'd almost have to keep you here once they'd seen these wouldn't they, John?

Got a smoke?

You're waiting to hear about my them, aren't you?

Your what?

My them.

Oh, every paranoid schizophrenic has one, a them, a they, an it.

And you wanna hear about my them, don't you?

I want to know how you got here.

Things are turning to shit out there, aren't they?

Let's talk about you.

Your dime.

I'm a...

I was an insurance investigator, freelance.

Checked out funny claims, frauds, the usual kind of thing.

And lately, I'd been working for a firm here in the city.

And all of this started with the disappearance.

The Sutter Cane disappearance.

It's a little hot in here, isn't it?

It's boiling.

How long I gotta be here?

I mean, I took care of all that paperwork.

The check was supposed to be here three weeks ago, right?

Uh, isn't that right?

Usually, that's the way it goes but I just have a few final questions...

...to ask about the fire.

Pfft, more questions.

I've answered all your questions. I mean, enough's enough here.

It was supposed to be cut and dried. They told me.

Look, I understand. We'll be out of here in a minute.

See, Robby here, he owns the company.

And he's hired me to see that things go smoothly, you understand?

Oh, it's just a little thing, but, see, Robby takes the view that it was you...

...who burned down your own warehouse on Northern Boulevard.

Me? Heh, that's horseshit.

That was my stuff in that warehouse. That's my whole life.

Believe me, I sympathize.

You're starting to sweat. Shall I turn on the air conditioning?

What do you think?

- Oh, no, I'm fine. -You sure?

Yeah. Yeah.

- Okay. -it's just...

I'm running a little late, that's all. I'm supposed to pick up my wife.

Oh, yeah, your wife.

She's a great lady.

- You know her? -No, not really. We just met briefly.

You know, when I went around to check up on your story.

See, we have these photographs...

...of your wife tooling around town...

...wearing various articles that you claim were destroyed in the fire.

No, that's, heh, impossible.

No, this is all stuff I bought for her myself.

See, the problem is, when I went around to talk to her...

...it turned out she knew a lot more than she thought she did.

Especially...

Especially after I showed her pictures of Miss Palminteri...

...who appears to be wearing even more of your destroyed articles.

Miss Palminteri?

Miss Rosa Palminteri.

A word of advice.

You wanna pull a scam...

...don't make your wife a partner.

And if you do...

...don't fuck around behind her back.

Trent, you look beautiful.

Everybody says you got the best nose for a con in the business.

But to see it firsthand-- I mean, to watch you work is incredible.

Well, it wasn't hard, Robby. The guy's wife liked me.

Besides, he was an amateur. It's just too easy with amateurs.

Try to figure out who's professional and who isn't.

And that's when it gets fun, when you run into a pro.

Most of my salesmen couldn't sniff out a phony claim...

...if their noses were nailed to it, but you, man, you never miss.

What's to miss?

You learn to expect the worst in people and you get it.

Everyone's looking to play an angle.

I'm always there to clean up the mess.

I'll tell you what.

You stop freelancing, join my staff.

I'll make it worth your while, Trent.

Forget it, Robby.

I'm my own man. Nobody pulls my strings.

I'm independent. I'm happy.

Well, be my man one more time.

I'm having quite a difficult mess with Arcane.

- The publishing house? -Yeah, it's my biggest account.

They just filed a claim that cost me millions.

I want you on this right away.

- What's the claim? -Sutter Cane is missing.

- Who? -Sutter Cane.

- Do you read Sutter Cane? -What?

Lay down! Lay down! Lay down!

Horror writer Sutter Cane...

...a harmless pop phenomenon...

...or a deadly mad prophet of the printed page?

This was the scene today outside several city bookstores.

Police believe the riots began because the stores could not meet the demand...

...for advance orders of Sutter Cane's latest novel...

...In the Mouth of Madness.

When does fiction become religion?

And are his fans dangerous?

Only if you count axes.

In related news...

...there were 18 other stores across the city reporting...

Mr. Trent?

Mr. Trent?

Mr. Harglow will see you now.

Thank you.

You're not listening. I needed it yesterday.

If you wait any longer, it'll be all over the front page. Get it done.

Jackson Harglow, Mr. Trent. I'm pleased to meet you.

- It's a pleasure. - Excuse the commotion.

We have something of a crisis going on.

Now, everybody out now, please. I need time with Mr. Trent.

Have Sylvia hold the calls, and get Linda here.

Yes, Mr. Harglow.

-Gee, that was great. I almost left myself.

Sit down, please.

I am a little short on patience these days, I'm afraid.

So, Mr. Trent, are you, uh, familiar with Arcane?

Aside from the fact that you're insured by the company I work for...

...I never heard of Arcane. I'm sorry. -You read books?

Linda Styles, John Trent.

Linda reads books for a living. She's one of our best editors.

Since she joined the firm, she's been handling Sutter Cane exclusively.

Sutter Cane. Isn't he the guy that writes that horror crap?

Maybe he's too sophisticated for you.

Sutter Cane happens to be this century's most widely-read author.

You can forget about Stephen King.

Cane outsells them all.

So, what happened to this cash cow of yours?

Cane disappeared two months ago without a trace.

The police have turned up nothing.

Who was the last person to hear from him?

His agent. Cane mailed him several chapters of his new book...

...oh, not two weeks ago.

Plain brown wrapper, no return address.

Oh, gee, I'm sorry.

You don't mind, do you?