The Coroner:
On gross pathology, we have a female Caucasian between sixteen and thirty. The cadaver is presented in two halves with bisection level with the umbilicus. Through and through lacerations of both mouth corners. No visible bruising on the neck. Rectangular abrasions on the wing tips of the sphenoid bones. And, oh! A puncture wound, here, in the palm. On the palm of the right hand. Investigation of upper half abdominal cavity reveals no free-flowing blood. Intestines, stomach, spleen, liver - all removed.
Russ Millard:
Is it all right to smoke, doctor?
The Coroner:
She won't mind. Lower half of cadaver reveals removal of all reproductive organs. Both legs broken at the knee. Questions?
Russ Millard:
What's your best guess?
The Coroner:
Well, here's what she wasn't - she wasn't raped and she wasn't pregnant. In terms of the nitty gritty, the cause of death is either the mouth wound here or she was beaten to death with something like a baseball bat.
Lee Blanchard:
What about her insides?
The Coroner:
They came out posthumously. I'd say then he drained the blood from the body and washed it clean, probably in a bathtub.
Catherine:
It was confessional, yet dishonest. Jane pretends to be horrified by the sexuality that she in fact fetishizes. She subsumes herself to the myth of black male potency, but then doesn't follow through. She thinks she 'respects Afro-Americans,' she thinks they're 'cool,' 'exotic,' what a notch he 'd make in her belt, but, of course, it all comes down to mandingo cliché, and he calls her on it. In classic racist tradition she demonizes, then runs for cover. But then, how could she behave otherwise? She's just a spoiled suburban white girl with a Benneton rainbow complex. It's just my opinion, and what do I know... but I think it's a callow piece of writing.
Jake}:
Police Department! Let's see your hands!
Alonzo}:
Put your hands up! Put 'em up! Put 'em up! Driver, right side passenger, hands on the windshield!
Jake}:
[to female] Rear seat passenger, palms on the glass. Look that way!
Alonzo}:
Put it in park!
College Driver}:
Stick shift.
Alonzo}:
Take your keys out and throw 'em in the window. Take your keys out and throw 'em in the window.
Male College Passenger}:
I'm sorry.
Alonzo}:
[to front passenger] Shut up! Too late for that. [to driver]
Alonzo}:
Fork it over!
College Driver}:
What are you talking about?
Alonzo}:
You know what I'm talking about. The marijuana. Give it to me! Give it to me! [to front passenger]
Alonzo}:
Gimme that pipe underneath your seat.
Male College Passenger}:
My mom gave it to me.
Alonzo}:
I don't care who gave it to you. She can pick it up in jail. What else you got? C'mon, c'mon, gimme, gimme, gimme. [female removes hands from glass]
Alonzo}:
[to Jake] Hey, control your suspect!
Jake}:
Miss, palms on the glass!
Alonzo}:
[to female] You move those hands again, I'll slap the taste out of your mouth. Put your hands over there. Right there. [to driver]
Alonzo}:
Now what are you doing out here? You know this is a gang neighborhood?
College Driver}:
Yeah.
Alonzo}:
Then don't come down here again. I catch you down here again, I'ma take your vehicle. I'ma make you walk home. I'ma let the homeboys up the hill run a train on your girlfriend. You know what a train is, don't you?
College Driver}:
Yeah.
Alonzo}:
All right, thanks for your cooperation. [to Jake]
Alonzo}:
Let's go. Safe your iron, son.
Male College Passenger}:
Shit!
Gallaxhar:
Now I can finally rebuild my civilization. Any thought on where I can set up shop? Your planet, perhaps?
Susan Murphy:
You keep your slimy tentacles off my planet...
Gallaxhar:
[Grabs Susan with one of his tentacles] Or what? If you wanted to stop me, you should have done it when you possessed the quantonium. Now you're nothing.
Susan Murphy:
There are innocent people down there who didn't do anything!
Gallaxhar:
[Throws Susan down to the ground] Bah! There were innocent people in my home planet when it was destroyed.
Susan Murphy:
Look, I'm sorry your planet was destroyed.
Gallaxhar:
Oh, don't be. I was the one who destroyed it. Confused? After I reveal my tale to you, everything will become crystal clear. Computer, begin cloning machine!
Computer:
Yes, Gallaxhar. [Gallaxhar gets on machine]
Computer:
Many zentons ago, when I was just a squidling, I found out my parents had... [Machine closes; after a moment, it opens again]
Gallaxhar:
No child should have to endure that! So I went on the road, with a giant... [Machine closes and opens again]
Gallaxhar:
And soon thereafter was married! Things were going well, until... [Machine closes and opens again]
Gallaxhar:
...And I was all "no way!", and she was all "yes way!", and I was like... [Machine closes and opens again]
Gallaxhar:
But I've told you too much already! Let the conquest of my new planet, now know as... Gallaxhar's Planet, begin!
Bartleby:
You are responsible for raising an icon which draws worship from the Lord. You have broken the first commandment. Not only that, I'm afraid not a one of you passes for a decent human being. Your continued existence is a mockery of morality. Like you, Mr. Burton. Last year cheated on your wife of 17 years 8 times. You even had sex with her best friend while you were supposed to be home watching the kids.
Loki:
In the bed that you and your wife share, no less.
Bartleby:
Mr. Newman - you got your girlfriend drunk at last year's Christmas party and then paid a kid from the mail room to have sex with her while she was passed out, just so you could break up with her guilt-free when she sobbingly confessed in the morning. She killed herself two months later. Mr. Brace disowned his gay son. Very compassionate, Mr. Brace. Mr. Ray put his mother in a third-rate nursing home and then used the profits from the sale of her home to buy an oriental rug for himself. Heavens. Mr. Barker flew to Thailand on the company account to have sex with an eleven year old boy. Mr. Holtzman okayed the production of Mooby Dolls from materials he knew to be toxic and unsafe, because it was - survey says? - less costly. [sees the female board member]
Bartleby:
You, on the other hand, are an innocent. You lead a good life. Good for you. But you, Mr. Whitland, you have more skeletons in your closet than the rest of this assembled party. I cannot even mention them aloud. [whispers something in Whitland's ear]
Loki:
You're his father, you sick fuck. [Whitland starts crying]
[first lines]
Narrator:
In the New York Herald, November 26, year 1911, there is an account of the hanging of three men. They died for the murder of Sir Edmund William Godfrey; Husband, Father, Pharmacist and all around gentle-man resident of: Greenberry Hill, London. He was murdered by three vagrants whose motive was simple robbery. They were identified as: Joseph Green, Stanley Berry, and Daniel Hill. Green, Berry, Hill. And I Would Like To Think This was Only A Matter Of Chance. As reported in the Reno Gazette, June of 1983 there is the story of a fire, the water that it took to contain the fire, and a scuba diver named Delmer Darion. Employee of the Peppermill Hotel and Casino, Reno, Nevada. Engaged as a blackjack dealer. Well liked and well regarded as a physical, recreational and sporting sort, Delmer's true passion was for the lake. As reported by the coroner, Delmer died of a heart attack somewhere between the lake and the tree. A most curious side note is the suicide the next day of Craig Hansen. Volunteer firefighter, estranged father of four and a poor tendency to drink. Mr. Hansen was the pilot of the plane that quite accidentally lifted Delmer Darion out of the water. Added to this, Mr. Hansen's tortured life met before with Delmer Darion just two nights previous. The weight of the guilt and the measure of coincidence so large, Craig Hansen took his life. And I Am Trying To Think This Was All Only A Matter Of Chance. The tale told at a 1961 awards dinner for the American Association Of Forensic Science by Dr. Donald Harper, president of the association, began with a simple suicide attempt. Seventeen-year-old Sydney Barringer. In the city of Los Angeles on March 23, 1958. The coroner ruled that the unsuccessful suicide had suddenly become a successful homicide. To explain: The suicide was confirmed by a note, left in the breast pocket of Sydney Barringer. At the same time young Sydney stood on the ledge of this nine-story building, an argument swelled three stories below. The neighbors heard, as they usually did, the arguing of the tenants and it was not uncommon for them to threaten each other with a shotgun, or one of the many handguns kept in the house. And when the shotgun accidentaly went off, Sydney just happend to pass. Added to this, the two tenants turned out to be: Faye and Arthur Barringer. Sydney's mother and Sydney's father. When confronted with the charge, which took some figuring out for the officers on the scene of the crime, Faye Barringer swore that she did not know that the gun was loaded. A young boy who lived in the building, sometimes a visitor and friend to Sydney Barringer, said that he had seen, six days prior, the loading of the shotgun. It seems that the arguing and the fighting and all of the violence was far too much for Sydney Barringer, and knowing his mother and father's tendency to fight, he decided to do something. Sydney Barringer jumps from the ninth floor rooftop. His parents argue three stories below. Her accidental shotgun blast hits Sydney in the stomach as he passes the arguing sixth-floor window. He is killed instantly but continues to fall, only to find, three stories below, a safety net installed three days prior for a set of window washers that would have broken his fall and saved his life if not for the hole in his stomach. So Faye Barringer was charged with the murder of her son, and Sydney Barringer noted as an accomplice in his own death. And it is in the humble opinion of this narrator that this is not just "Something That Happened." This cannot be "One of Those Things... ” This, please, cannot be that. And for what I would like to say, I can't. This Was Not Just A Matter Of Chance. Ohhhh. These strange things happen all the time.
Fogell:
Yo guys! Sup?
Seth:
Fogell, where have you been, man? You almost gave me a goddamn heart attack. Let me see it. Did you pussy out or what?
Fogell:
No noooo, man. I got it; it is flawless. Check it!
Evan:
[examining the fake ID] Hawaii. All right, that's good. That's hard to trace, I guess. Wait... you changed your name to... McLovin?
Fogell:
Yeah.
Evan:
McLovin? What kind of a stupid name is that, Fogell? What, are you trying to be an Irish R&B singer?
Fogell:
Naw, they let you pick any name you want when you get down there.
Seth:
And you landed on McLovin...
Fogell:
Yeah. It was between that or Muhammed.
Seth:
Why the FUCK would it be between THAT or Muhammed? Why don't you just pick a common name like a normal person?
Fogell:
Muhammed is the most commonly used name on Earth. Read a fucking book for once.
Evan:
Fogell, have you actually ever met anyone named Muhammed?
Fogell:
Have YOU actually ever met anyone named McLovin?
Seth:
No, that's why you picked a dumb fucking name!
Fogell:
Fuck you.
Seth:
Gimme that. All right, you look like a future pedophile in this picture, number 1. Number 2: it doesn't even have a first name, it just says "McLovin"!
Evan:
What? One name? ONE NAME? Who are you? Seal?
Seth:
Fogell, this ID says that you're 25 years old. Why wouldn't you just put 21, man?
Fogell:
Seth, Seth, Seth. Listen up, ass-face: every day, hundreds of kids go into the liquor store with fake IDs, and every single one says they're 21. Pssh, how many 21 year olds do you think there are in this town? It's called fucking strategy, all right?
Evan:
Stay calm, okay? Let's not lose our heads. It's... it's a fine ID; it'll... it's gonna work. It's passable, okay? This isn't terrible. I mean, it's up to you, Fogell. This guy is either gonna think 'Here's another kid with a fake ID' or 'Here's McLovin, a 25 year-old Hawaiian organ donor'. Okay? So what's it gonna be?
Fogell:
[grinning] ... I am McLovin!
Seth:
No you're not. No one's McLovin. McLovin's never existed because that's a made up dumb FUCKING FAIRY TALE NAME, YOU FUCK!
