Children of the Corn Page #2

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I sure learned that

in the jungle.

You get 20, maybe 30 seconds,

before you--

- That little boy is dead.

- Yeah.

- You ran him down.

- Yeah.

- And you killed him!

- Sure, I ran him down,

but I didn't kill him.

Look. Go on, look at him.

I haven't gone crazy.

His throat's been cut.

Why would anybody cut

a little boy's throat? Huh, why?

You like the idea that I killed him

too much to let it go?

- No. Of course not.

- Just look!

Please look.

- Hey hey hey.

- Oh!

- Don't faint. Look at me.

- Okay.

Don't look around.

Don't look around.

- There's so much blood.

- His throat's been cut,

and that corn over there

is all bent and twisted.

- Where?

- Don't look around.

Ow!

Don't act suspicious.

Okay.

- Okay?

- Yeah.

Now we're gonna cover

this boy up

and we're gonna put him in the trunk.

- I'm sorry about this, Vicky...

- Okay.

- ...but we've gotta do this.

- Okay.

Sure. Yeah.

That didn't cut his throat--

not all ragged

and jagged like this.

No army sergeant ever showed

the finer points of hand-to-hand combat

to this poor boy's murderer.

No, he was as good as dead

when I hit him.

Okay.

Get in.

No. Driver's side.

- You want me to drive?

- No. I want you to start the car

and wait for me.

I'm gonna go take a look.

I can see blood on the corn

where the boy came out.

I think I saw something else.

It's hard to tell from the road,

but you can hide an army in there.

The Vietcong sure did.

In the paddies of course,

not the corn-- like jungles.

Scragged, right?

- Someone scragged him?

- Yeah.

Sometimes, I think you'd sell your soul

to the devil for it never to have ended.

That way you could go on

doing sweeps and smoking dope

for the rest of your life 'cause

that was the high point of your life,

wasn't it, Burt?

Good old Vietnam, right?

This isn't one of your damn

consciousness-raising groups, Vicky.

Now get in the car.

That's an order.

Screw your orders.

Vicky, would you just do it?!

What's up with the gun?

His throat was cut, right?

They're probably gone,

but I don't wanna take any chances.

Now get in the car,

keep the engine running

and you'd better bug out

should anyone come out of there,

no matter how innocent he,

she or they may look, okay?

Do you understand?

I don't wanna sit in the car

all by myself.

At this point,

I don't really care what you want.

How did I end up married

to a son of a b*tch like you

in the first place, huh?

I wonder about that.

I wonder about that a lot.

So do l, babe.

I'm scared.

Is that all right, sir?

Is it all right for me

to be scared, sir?

That's fine by me.

Oh, God.

Hey! Mr. Comedian!

Where are you?

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