Choke Page #5

Besides, if I don't come up

with my monthly three grand...

those vipers at St. Anthony's

won't let me in to feed her.

- F***!

- What?

I'm light.

[ Sighs ]

Again, Mr. Mancini?

You're light again.

Not to worry.

I'm sure there's room

at the new state facility in Clancy.

- I hear they do a lovely porridge.

- [ Line Ringing ]

Okay, okay, okay, okay.

[ Sighs ]

You got a pen?

God bless you, Mr. Mancini.

Come on.

It's eggplant parm from Gallini's.

You love their eggplant. One bite.

I'm not hungry.

[ Sniffles ]

So, what are you doing? What's-

What's going on? Why are you-

You're crying.

What do you expect, Artie?

I'm dying.

You're not dying. You're not dying.

For Pete's sake, look at me.

Half the time I don't even know

who I'm talking to anymore.

Fine. Whatever.

I've had enough

of this ridiculous planet.

It's Victor.

I can't bear it.

- He has to know.

- Know what?

Who he comes from.

You said his father was a traveling salesman

from Norway with Tourette's.

- I had to tell him something.

- You mean-You mean he's not?

Of course he's not.

[ Exhales ]

You, uh- [ Chuckles ]

You have to tell him the truth, Ida.

He's got a right to know.

I've been trying for months now...

but he so rarely comes to visit, and when

he does, I can't bring myself to say it.

Listen to me now, Ida.

It's very important that Victor

knows who he comes from...

other than just, you know...

you.

- You really think so?

- Absolutely.

Let me call him. I bet you

I could get him here lickety-split.

- Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no.

I couldn't face that. No.

- Well-

You can tell me then.

I won't say a word.

Attorney-client privilege and all.

But, Artie, I really can't do that.

Why not?

- 'Cause I'm not even sure who you really are.

- [ Door Opens ]

Oh, I'm sorry, Artie.

I have to go.

- Hey.

- Hi, Tito.

Do you think she'll take you back?

She won't, you know.

Pretty women

are narcissistic and unforgiving.

You're pretty.

I might have known.

You're too weak. You're too ordinary.

This work requires vision.

It requires fortitude.

What work?

You don't do any work.

All you do is get in trouble.

Don't you see? You are my work.

All the political acts,

all the subversive happenings-

They're all designed

to- to open your eyes.

- Where's my father?

- Well, he's probably back in Oslo by now...

offending his poor customers

with those unfortunate outbursts.

I want to see him.

He doesn't want you, Victor.

Why do you think he left?

[ Paige ]

We need to talk.

I think it's time we consider

a move to the second floor.

The second floor?

No. Absolutely not.

Mr. Mancini, your mother suffers

from a form of dementia...

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