Accidents Happen

---

Some people wouldn't

know their ass

from an air

conditioner.

Take Mr. Smolensky.

Despite overwhelming

stupidity,

his death certificate

will say "accident."

Billy Conway, on the

other hand, was smart.

Still, with all

his intelligence,

Billy thought

Mr. Smolensky

was dancing.

Billy's

commonsense prevailed,

but commonsense is

never enough to keep

you safe, my friends.

Because the world is,

quite simply, dangerous.

Gloria Conway

would have never

forgiven herself

if something had

happened to one

of her children.

Mrs. Smolensky held

no such concern

for her husband.

He had been

a philanderer

and a drunk,

and she considered his

death a welcome divorce.

Sometimes bad

things can happen

for a good reason.

And sometimes,

things just happen.

The Conways

were your average,

unremarkable family.

They rallied around Billy

after the neighbors

incineration,

and in the evening

they enjoyed a

movie together.

I didn't know there

was anybody behind me.

Billy felt safe between his

twin brothers, Gene and Larry.

They weren't bothered at all

because they had once

witnessed a motorcycle

stunt go horribly wrong.

Linda felt snug

next to her Dad.

And while Ray Conway

was a good father,

it was Gloria who took

most responsibility for

the family's wellbeing.

The Three Stooges

was her idea.

If she were more

flexible, she'd be

kicking herself right now.

Don't go away, Moe.

Gene had an uncanny

talent for mischief,

and his concern for Billy

inspired his most

daring prank yet.

Billy, come on down.

Where the hell is Gene?

And when Douglas Post arrived,

the stage was set.

Hey, Gene, wait for me.

It's just a movie, yeah?

It's just all make

believe, okay?

Did you find Gene?

He's disappeared.

And Little Lord Bad

Influence just flew

by on his bike.

Doug was off limits

after he and Gene drove

the Principal's car

into the school

swimming pool.

But still, nobody

expected this.

Wow.

Like a big potato.

Hey, Doug.

Just in time to see

all hell break loose.

What are you gonna do?

Im gonna pee.

Oh, my God.

I swear to God,

if sh*t were brains,

that kid would eat

his head for dinner.

Yeah!

Gloria didn't

just turn a phrase.

She flipped it on

its back and kicked

the sh*t out of it.

Eugene Conway!

You get down from there

now before I turn your

little ass into a--

Gene and Doug got

into serious trouble.

Three police cars came,

but it was worth it

because Billy had forgotten

all about the dead neighbor

humping the sprinkler.

So, what did the cops

have to say, Mr. Moviemagic?

They said that Moe

was a friend of theirs,

and if I peed out

of his head again

they'd shoot me.

What are we gonna

do with him?

Give him to the Jehovah

Witnesses next time they

come around for a donation.

There's a lot

of asphalt out there.

Slow down. It's raining.

I am slowed down.

Slow down more.

And don't think

for one second,

little Mr. Big Deal,

you're playing in

the championships

this weekend.

But Ma!

Don't "Ma" me.

I don't remember giving

birth to a horse's ass.

But we'll lose!

Not if you play

as good as Gene.

Shut up, Billy.

Stop it!

Leave us alone.

Im not hurting anyone!

Billy, careful!

What are you doing?

Accidents happen

when you least expect.

Care, vigilance and

luck cannot prevent them.

Although seatbelts

in this instance would

have certainly helped.

Accidents are

a fact of life,

and very bad accidents

have a charming way

of not seeming real.

For every tragic accident,

there is a good luck story.

But that balance

can take years to occur.

And that's the way

it was with the Conways.

Linda had died,

and Gene was in

a nursing home.

Billy came here to

remember happier times,

but they were getting

harder to recall.

I n your room with

those. Dinner's ready.

Why so early?

Did you forget you have

baseball practice?

I was trying to.

What are we having?

Ah, dinner.

I told you.

I mean what, exactly?

I don't think it's

anything exactly.

Tell Larry it's ready.

Can't we leave

a plate by his door?

You want a riot?

Larry! It's feeding time.

Larry grew up lost.

He didn't really

have much choice.

Being Gene's twin

was all he had

going for him.

You've outdone yourself.

Do me a favor, will you?

Hit your goddamn

father over the head

with a baseball bat.

Each member of

the family developed

their own way to cope.

Billy learned

not to feel,

which clearly

had its benefits.

Ray didn't cope.

He walked out.

Most of Billy's contact

with him now involved

head wounds.

And Gloria struggled

to put the past

behind her.

It was not

uncommon to find Linda's

furniture in the yard.

Mrs. Smolensky

should have been

an example to them.

She had gotten over

her husband long ago.

Buster Bill!

Oh, my goodness,

are you all right?

It's nothing,

Mrs. Smolensky.

Just my natural

charm revealing itself.

Billy was showing off

his baseball skills.

It was quite a display.

Ma?

Hi. I'm Dottie.

Douglas Post's mother.

I found your mother

in the front yard.

She's been having--

Billy!

Hey, Im fine.

I just, I strained

myself trying to move--

Hello.

Oh, my God, look.

It's the spokesmen for

the Useless Bastards Club.

What brings you here?

Uh--

Come here.

Let me see.

God. Jesus.

He was supposed

to crack you with the bat.

Just trying

to show Dad how

much I love baseball.

So, let me be clear.

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