Diabolique Page #3

...but separated five times.

Will they reconcile?

Don't you run away from me!

When is she coming back?

You feel that? You feel it?

What did you do for feelings

before I came along?

You shouldn't get me mad.

It won't happen again.

Come here, Mia.

Have another drink, Guy.

You deserve it.

What're you doing to me?

Listen!

I don't know you,

but I'm glad you got us here.

Don't ever come back

to Tennessee again!

I hope that was empty.

You can't afford to waste good liquor.

I'm waiting until this is in color.

B*tch, you trying to kill me?

Help me.

Say you're sorry.

I love you.

How is he?

- Wasn't quick like you said.

- Or quiet.

It's attempted murder now

if he does wake up.

We have no choice. Come on.

Get out his wallet.

Your fingerprints can be on it.

See if there's any

gas station receipts.

- There's nothing.

- Put it back.

Put it back.

Go turn on the radio

in case there's more noise.

Get the water bottle!

- Is it over?

- It's over.

Are you all right?

You're blaming yourself.

Don't.

For wanting him, I mean.

I was the same way.

Oh, my God!

He moved! He was alive!

Let Irv help.

Look at them. It's too heavy.

This is Irv.

- He's good at this kind of thing.

- Allow me.

- It's fine.

- Please.

Bend your knees.

Ready?

- Shall we?

- One, two, three.

Your end in first.

- What's in here?

- Books.

- Thanks, Irv.

- Wait!

I made a coffeecake for your trip!

- Let's go.

- Right.

Nice shape on that principal.

Nicole's always been a cold fish.

Bad dog.

You take mine, I'll take his.

Let's stay together.

Oh, Jesus.

All units, accident on

the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

Exit 12 is closed. Units responding

give me your ETA.

We'll get you out

of this mess in no time.

- Excuse me, sir.

- Yes?

Can I help, officer?

Everything is fine.

Can I give her a lift?

I'm okay. It's drivable.

- No, you have a flat.

- Oh.

Give me a hand here.

Sorry it's so heavy.

Books, you know.

Let me help you.

Look, return to your car.

There's nothing for you to do.

Thanks a lot.

Push.

Come on.

Go get the lights.

Go.

Oh, my God.

Sh*t.

Bastard.

It's over. We better get

the hell out of here.

He'll never hurt us again.

What do we do now?

Wait for the body to surface.

They'll do an autopsy.

He was drunk, he fell in.

When will it come up?

Tomorrow, maybe.

Come on, you can't pull that off.

- Why hasn't he risen yet?

- It'll happen.

Be patient.

I won't be able to do this.

I suggest you try.

It isn't like you burnt the toast.

Killing your husband

is off the chart, demerit-wise.

Understand?

You're so calm.

Look at you.

Your hair is done.

You have makeup on.

It's a day like any other day.

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