Cutter's Way

You don't have to go.

Yeah, I got to, uh...

I got to see a sick friend.

He is, he's sick.

Well, it wasn't that good anyway.

Remind me not to get on your bad side.

I was supposed to pick up some medicine for him.

I don't suppose you could, um...

Nah, I don't suppose.

Bone.

Buy some vitamin E.

Okay.

You're not interested in the boat, are you?

No.

I don't think I can convince my husband.

Okay.

Well... it's been better for me, too.

Green Healy.

Yeah, my engine's had it. Gotta get it fixed.

Sorry, fella, there goes your tip.

Shit!

Hey!

Son of a bitch!

Jesus Christ!

Fuck you, too!

I owe you a drink.

That's true, you do.

Ahoy, maties! Ishmael returneth, huh?

Hey!

How goes your search for that fiendish leviathan of the deep, Moby Dick?

Oh, Moby Dick?

- Isn't that a social... - Isn't that a social disease?

Oh, God, it's only 1:30, Alex.

Yeah, and already into the B material,

I admit it, Rich, but, great art...

Great art demands a great audience, you know what I mean?

Permit me to introduce to you Rosencrantz and Guildenstern here.

Emissaries from the Danish court, tree surgeons to the king.

They prune Danish, right?

Yeah, right, that's my line, Rich.

Yeah, and this... This is of course, uh, Karl Marx.

Karl Marx, former lead guitar with the Boston Symphony Orchestra.

- Karl. - And last, but certainly least,

is Rastus, the court nigger.

What?

Do I detect some tension?

Oh.

Come now, gentlemen.

It's a simple matter of semantics.

What are we white, well-intentioned liberals

supposed to call you cats these days, huh?

Blacks?

Coloreds?

Negroes? Darkies?

Jeez, you know, I don't know. What would you call 'em, Rich?

I'd call 'em, "Sir," if I were you.

That's funny, you know, 'cause that's not what you called them

the night your car was stolen.

Just what was it that you called 'em that night?

Alex.

Alex? Alex.

I wouldn't put up with that if I were you guys.

You must be... You must be crazy, Rich, calling them something like that.

The war, you know.

I can understand that.

I wasn't in any war.

See?

Uh, but if he convinces you he isn't crazy, don't send me the pieces?

Man, what are you doing?

Alex. Thank you, man.

Hey, friends, don't miss this, you're watching a pro in action.

Richard Bone, doing what he does best, walking away.

Where you going with my God damn keys, huh? You fuck!

That's going on your tab, Cutter.

You look beautiful.

Considering.

I didn't say that.

It's a given. The way of the world.

Things are okay, considering.

Mmm-hmm. That good, huh?

Better.

Any minute now Prince Charming will, uh,

ride by on his grand white charger

and take me in his arms and carry me away.

My charger's got a bad battery, but will I do?

Hell, no.

Speaking of which, you're home awfully early, aren't you?

Couldn't you find a matron with a taste for gutter squalor?

Or, uh, is that the battery trouble you were complaining of?

I don't like you when you're stoned.

Hey, Rich, I don't like you when I'm straight.

How would you know?

You did have a bad night, didn't you?

Not until now.

Is it so bad, Rich, having a place to come home to,

when you've got no place to go?

Poor Richard.

The bottle.

Golden boy.

Never say no to Richard.

Really must be tough

playing second fiddle to a one-eyed cripple.

Hey, he's not your average one-eyed cripple.

Is that why you put up with his bullshit,

sitting around waiting for the resurrection? It's not gonna to happen.

How would you know?

You never stay in one place long enough to find out.

What does that mean? Does that mean that if I'd been around

at the right time?

I would have married Alex, anyway.

Hmm.

I don't think so.

Whatever you say.

But I did.

And you know what?

I'm real happy with the way things are.

Kenny!

Kenny!

Kenny.

One, two, three!

All right, Georgie.

What'd I do with my cane?

Okay, okay, now follow me, okay. I'm all right, I'm all right.

- I'm all right. - I know.

Okay, I know the way, there's 13 steps.

Okay, we bring this thing here, okay. Steps right here.

One, two, three... Whoa, easy.

Take it easy. Take it easy.

Be quiet. Quiet! Shut up!

Don't wake Mo up.

Hey, Maureen, are you awake?

It's George!

Oh, well, look who's here.

Hi, Richie, can you give me a hand here?

Hey, you ain't got no clothes on, boy.

Be quiet.

Ah, shit, it's always good to have a little Bone around the home, you know.

- Is it safe yet? - Yeah, it's dark.

Jesus Christ, Bone, you really know how to hurt a guy.

I had a good teacher, Alex.

Yeah, gimme that bottle, George.

- Mmm-mmm. - Gimme the God damn bottle!

Hi, Mo.

- Oh! - Hi, George.

Lawsy, lawsy lawsy, lawsy.

I must've died and gone to heaven, huh?

You all right?

Yeah, he's fine, Mo.

- Sorry. - No, don't be silly.

Don't let him fool you, he's bucking for sainthood.

Without me, he hasn't got a prayer.

Would you like some coffee?

No, no thanks, I'd better get home. Susie's probably worried.

Yeah.

Must've known you were bringing him home.

No, completely by accident.

Hey, Richie, how did we do with that woman?

She seemed pretty damn interested in the 40-footer this afternoon.

I think she has something a lot smaller in mind, George.

Too bad. Here you go.

Ah. Gimme that bottle.

- Yeah, take care of my boy, Alex. - Gimme that God damn...

I'll see you all at the parade.

Gimme the bottle!

What'll it be, Alex, coffee or sleep?

Any other choices?

Hey, where're you going?

I'm gonna finish sleeping on the boat.

Ah, come on, Bone.

He wants to, Alex.

He doesn't want to go, do you?

Yeah, it's getting late. I'm gonna hit it.

No, it's not late. It's early.

Hey. Come on.

Come on, stick around.

Mo doesn't want you to go, do you? You're just being cranky, right?

Hey, come on. We'll do something together.

Have breakfast, a cup of coffee.

Good idea, huh?

Unless you've got something else in mind, right? Yeah?

You wanna watch?

Nah. You want me to watch.

Oh! Eee...

You guys are a little grim. It's just a little joke.

Oh! Oh, I get it. You don't want me to watch.

Okay.

You guys are making me very nervous.

If I didn't know better.

- Yeah? - Is there a Richard Bone here?

That's me.

Do you own a green Healy convertible?

Why don't you just come in, Officers? Yes, I do, why?

Oh, God.

Okay, Mr. Bone, let's do it again.

Let's take a look at the autopsy report.

Crushed trachea, fractured skull.

Semen in her throat, on her face.

Seventeen years old, cheerleader.

It's ugly, Mr. Bone.

Down in LA it happens all the time, but we don't get the creeps up here.