The Real McCoy Page #2

self-employed?

Thank you so much.

Love Connection!

And now here's our host

Chuck Woolery!

Where have you been?

Oh, there's no way...

a friend of mine is gonna

live in no halfway house.

Come on,

let's get your stuff.

This is it.

I, uh, got 'em to throw in

the linen for free,

and there's gonna be

a mini-fridge here and a microwave.

What, you don't like it?

- You don't like it.

- No, l-l...

Oh, you're worryin' about what that

parole officer of yours is gonna say?

No. Buckner said

I could move if I got a job.

Uh...

Well, good.

This is, uh, my address

in an emergency,

and, uh, that's just

temporary, but...

And you'll have a phone,

uh, sometime next week...

so I guess I'll, uh...

see you tomorrow?

Thanks. No, really.

- You took it as a personal loan?

- It's my business.

That's the premiums

on your staff's medical plan.

Aw, screw

the damn staff, man.

- If they'd sell more,

I wouldn't be squeezed.

- That's no way to run a business.

You got no receipts here,

your cashbook won't balance,

and you haven't filed for two years.

What am I suppose

to tell the I.R.S.?

- There's a woman here to see ya, Roy.

- Well, I'm busy.

- She says it's important.

- Aw, Christ!

- Roy...

- Look, just think of somethin',

Jerry, all right?

That's what

I pay you for.

Oh, Karen.

- I waited an hour.

- Sh*t, I'm sorry. Uh...

- Guess you got tied up, huh?

Sh*t, you look great.

- Kept your figure.

- Just get my stuff, okay?

Come on.

- Can I go and get Dad, Cheryl?

- No, Patrick. Stay in the car.

- Can I go get a soda, Cheryl?

- No. I told you. Don't call me Cheryl.

- Patrick calls you Cheryl.

- You know why Patrick calls me Cheryl.

- Shut up, Kelly.

You shut up, Patrick.

It's not a good idea for you

to see Patrick right now because we...

We didn't tell him

where you were, and, and l...

Patrick thinks you're dead.

Look, Cheryl and I just felt...

You let a woman who's livin'

in the house I paid for...

talk you into tellin'

my son I'm dead?

Look, I really think you're overreacting

to this. What did you expect me to do,

tell a three-year-old kid that his mom's

doin' ten years for robbin' banks?

No, but I-I thought

we agreed you'd tell him...

To tell him that we

split up and I moved?

- We agreed.

- Look, now I have to go.

- Dad. Who's that?

- Hey, Patrick. I'll be right out, son.

Uh, this is an old friend

of your mother's.

Are you coming

to the game?

No, Patrick.

Look, Patrick, will you just

wait for me outside, son?

- I'll be right out.

- Okay.

Bye.

What'd you do with the

letters I wrote Patrick?

- What'd you do with 'em?

- I burned 'em.

Karen, I didn't know

what else to do.

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