The Beaver Page #2

Right.

Too right, mate.

You can blow it up. Start again.

Who are you?

I'm the Beaver, Walter,

and I'm here to save your goddamn life.

Hey.

I'm sorry. I must have passed him again.

He just blends in.

No, his dad picked him up early.

Walter?

He said he sent you a text.

Your husband is quite a character.

Mom, you gotta see what we did.

- Okay. Where's your father?

- Come on! I'll show you.

You put your memory in it.

Where'd you get that?

- We made it.

- You and your dad?

Me and the Beaver.

The Beaver?

Any idea where Walter

stuffed the power sander

you gave him two Christmases ago?

No?

No trouble. We'll make do.

Walter, what's with the accent

and the puppet?

- Give her the thing.

- Right.

"Hello. The person

who handed you this card

"is under the care of

a prescription puppet."

Walter, what the hell is this?

Henry, mate, go see if you can find

that varnish we was talking about.

- I'll get it!

- Thanks, mate!

Did you read the card?

- Yes, I...

- Read the card.

- I've...

- Read the card.

"The person who handed you this card

is under the care of a prescription puppet

"designed to help create

a psychological distance between himself

"and the negative aspects

of his personality.

"Please treat him as you normally would

"but address yourself to the puppet.

Thank you."

There you go.

- Is this some kind of a joke?

- No, hardly, love. Nothing funny about it.

Stop it with the puppet!

All right. I'm confused, Walter,

and I need some answers right now.

He said if I stick with it that maybe...

He? Who said that?

Dr. Macy.

Dr. Macy? You quit seeing him.

Well, I went back.

So this is some kind of a program?

I'll field that one. Yes, Meredith.

The answer is yes.

That is exactly what it is.

I know it seems radical,

but in cases like Walter's,

cases where all else has been known to fail,

it's proven quite effective.

But if it's going to work,

it's going to need your full support.

It's very big in Sweden.

I couldn't find it.

Ah. No worries.

I best be on me bike.

You're not leaving, are you?

Don't worry.

I'll come back this weekend, then.

But you have to stay for dinner!

Mom, let him stay for dinner!

Look, it's all right.

- I don't need to.

- Please, Mom, let him stay for dinner.

- I'll come back this weekend, then.

- Come on.

- It's okay. Just for dinner.

- Please, Mom.

- Yeah!

- Well, right, then.

Let's tidy up the garage

so we can mess up the kitchen.

Come on. Don't touch anything sharp.

Hey.

What the hell am I doing here?

I need you to write me something.

I knew it.

He thinks I'm going to fall for this?

- Who?

- Mumphry, or whatever

vice-principal sent you.

Tell him I'm insulted.

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