Dylan Dog: Dead of Night

---

Dad, dinner's almost ready!

Dad? Oh, my God! Dad?

Dad?

Dad?

New Orleans can be a

tough town to die in.

But when you die and come

back, you call me. Dylan Dog.

Or at least you did.

You see, I used to protect all of them,

all those creatures of the night.

Those sharp-toothed monsters you

thought were only in the movies.

Why? Because they're real.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking.

I used to think the same thing.

But go ahead.

Take a closer look at that

bum begging for change.

Take a look at your

neighbour your best friend.

Hell, maybe even your girlfriend.

The undead are out there,

hiding in plain sight.

And in my day, I was the

line between you and them.

I was the peace, the cork in

the bottle, the line in the sand.

But then everything changed.

And I discovered there's

more than one way to die.

Your heart can go on

ticking, but sometimes,

that's just for show.

But flesh-eating monsters

weren't my problem anymore.

I had moved on to a

much safer line of work.

You think you can just ruin

people's lives and get away with it?

You cocked the gun too early.

What?

Shove a gun in somebody's

face, that's shock enough.

You want to save the

gun-cooking till later.

In case the gun itself doesn't

put enough fear into the guy.

You've already done that.

Now what do you do?

Shake it at me?

See? Hardly effective, right?

But if you save the

gun-cooking until later, boom.

Then you've got escalation.

And that, my friend,

is the name of the game.

All right. So, why are you here?

I'm here to put a bullet in your head.

Not ringing bells.

You're gonna have to help

me with this one, Chief.

Who are you again?

Oh, right. You're the

one with the screamer.

Those pictures are

gonna cost me everything.

The four-bedroom,

five-bath house

with the pool and the tennis court,

and the Mercedes S-Class!

It's never pretty when love dies.

What would you know about it?

You know, I think you missed

something in these photos.

Yeah, you should check this out.

See right here?

What did I miss?

Oh, God!

I think you broke my nose!

Calm down, big baby.

It's not broken.

Now, I know you're upset with me,

but I'm just doing my job.

You were the one

power-thrusting your secretary.

Executive assistant.

Whatever.

You do the crime, pay the fine.

But...

...she cheated on me first.

God.

You don't need revenge.

You need proof.

Audio. Pictures. Video, if possible.

I get 250 a day, plus expenses.

You wouldn't happen to

have a check with you?

Do you take credit cards?

Dylan!

Did that guy just have a gun?

Here.

What is this? You're gonna like it.

It's something for us to

keep up with the competition.

Marcus.

Dylan, listen, there's three key

ingredients to life and business, okay?

I call it Y.E.L. It's yearning,

earning, and learning.

You know, you really gotta stop

watching those infomercials.

Yeah, and you need to evolve, man.

I'm sorry, there's a

revolution going on, Dylan.

It's called "digital," all right?

There are certain parts of the world,

that consider film kind of old.

Sounds like paradise.

Well, I used your credit

card, so I hope you like it.

Hey. Have you thought about that

conversation we had a couple weeks ago?

At all?

Dylan, Dylan. Look.

Now I'm not saying

that getting your mail

and developing your antiquated

film stock isn't a blast.

But, frankly, I can do more, man.

I want to do more, okay?

I thought this was about

cases of life and death,

not cheating husbands

and insurance fraud.

I want to be your go-to guy, Dylan.

I don't want to be

your go-get guy anymore.

I want to be your partner.

Marcus, I told you.

I can't have a partner.

I'm sorry.

No, that's cool, man.

Hey, speaking of cheating husbands...

...the Collins photos.

Yeah.

Is that even anatomically possible?

Yeah, you do not want to know what

I crawled through to get this picture.

Oh, hey, you got a call today.

Lady in the Garden District.

Said she needs to talk to you.

You hear that?

No. What?

That, my friend, is our fees going up.

The New Orleans Garden District,

where the rich go to live in style.

On in this case, die in style.

Nice first impression.

Might be time for a new car, man.

Hey. It's a classic.

And you go before the car goes.

- Understand?

- Yeah, right. Yep.

You know those guys?

In another life.

First thing you learn

about uptown cases?

They always end up downtown.

If I'd have known where

this one was heading,

I would have turned

it down in a heartbeat.

But you know what they

say about hindsight

it'll screw you every time.

Hi. Can I help you?

No. That's what I do.

I'm Dylan.

I'm not really sure how we do this.

I've never met a private investigator.

Well, why don't you just

tell us why we're here?

My father...

Let me guess. Skipped out on the family?

He was murdered.

And he would never do that. So...

So, you're looking at "the family."

Condolences.

So, what do our friends in

blue have to say about it?

They didn't hear a word I said.

They don't believe me.

They don't believe my story.

They're parked outside just

to convince the neighbours

- that they're safe.

- What?

Why do you think we will?

After the funeral, the

priest gave me this.

I don't do that sort of thing anymore.

Sorry for the confusion.

- Marcus?

- What just happened?

My father was killed

by some kind of monster.

Look, miss, in a moment of trauma,

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes