Lady in the Water Page #4

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somewhere, and here you are speaking it.

Let's make up a witty phrase.

It'll become famous.

It needs to be on some T-shirt

or something, you ass.

No, it doesn't. It just catches on.

People just start saying it.

Blim-blam.

What? Blim-blam?

Somebody already said that.

Gentlemen, I don't suppose...

...any of you have written

anything lately.

An essay or something?

Something important?

No essays here, my man.

Okay. Stop putting your clothes

in the garbage disposal...

...and stop smoking.

Baby's on the half-tip.

- Snap!

- Yeah.

There you go. There you go.

Mr. Heep.

She told me a little bit more of the story

before she throw cushion at me.

Young-Soon.

You're not writing anything, are you?

A p... P... P... Paper, maybe?

Writing? No, Mr. Heep.

This semester all multiple-choice

courses. Young-Soon is not stupid.

She told me about a bad guy in story.

These creatures are called scrunts.

They are meant to kill a narf

when she is out of the water.

They can lay completely flat.

Their back is covered in grass.

My great-grandmother said

that's why man never sees them.

They will appear

as a bump in the lawns.

Vick. Anna.

Mr. Heep, the light over my desk

is still not working.

I promise I'll get to it.

How's the writing?

- Slow.

- You look tired, Mr. Heep.

How long have you been writing, Vick?

Six months.

What? I should finish, right?

It just... It just sits on his desk.

My brother's scared.

He'll do anything to get out of writing.

See this? It's the third load of laundry

he's done this week.

I can fix that light now, if you want.

A cookbook.

This has gotten s... S...

Silly.

- That's not how you fold.

- Mr. Heep, tell her to stop annoying me.

I fixed the light.

I'll make you dinner, Mr. Heep.

Thank you.

You're both cooks?

Who, him? He can't cook.

He's banned from the kitchen.

Wait a minute,

I don't understand something.

I'm sorry. My... My ladder...

...accidentally bumped into your desk.

I ended up seeing the title

of what it is you're writing.

It said The Cookbook.

I know, it's a bad title, right?

It's actually, you know, just my thoughts

on all our cultural problems...

...and thoughts on leaders and stuff.

I don't know who's gonna

wanna publish the thing.

That is not how you fold.

Your thoughts are very sad.

Most are of one night.

A night a man entered your home

when you were not there.

He stole many things

and killed your wife and children.

That is when you stopped being happy.

You were a doctor.

I am very sorry for you.

You believe you have no purpose.

You help all that live here.

Anybody can do this job, Story.

You have a purpose.

All beings have a purpose.

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