Hit and Run Page #3

no loose ends, no haircuts,

nothing that brings attention to yourself,

Mary, and I mean nothing.

This will pass, okay? I promise.

This guy will get his 15 minutes of fame

and then bam, he ain't sh*t no more.

They'll find someone else to talk about.

That's the plan.

You on board?

Okay, come here.

You feeling better now? Huh?

Come on. Come on.

What?

I heard something.

- What?

- Just go check it out.

- I will, in a sec. Come on.

- No, now.

It's probably not...

F***.

- It's probably nothing.

- Just check it.

Rick?

Rick?

Rick?

Rick?

F***ing jerk, you're lucky

I didn't stab you with this!

Whoa!

Whoa! Easy there, girl.

That would be

murder, Mary.

Oh, f*** off.

Come on.

Hey, little f***er, what's up? Huh?

Hey... Jesus!

Little b*tch.

I'm sorry.

Just relax, all right?

Take some of your dad's meds,

it'll take the edge off, and just go to bed.

- I'll see you later.

- Where are you going?

I gotta go, Mary.

You know, my head is pounding,

I got to be up in, f***, like, four hours.

You know, I can't think straight.

I gotta get some sleep.

So do you, okay?

Hello?

Hello?

Rick?

- Mary?

- Rick, I'm scared.

- It's 3:
30 in the f***ing morning.

- I can't help it, Rick. They know.

There's a flyer.

- A flyer?

- Yes. It has his face and everything.

They know.

Mary, it's probably just a cop

or a volunteer or something, all right?

- That's what they do.

- At 3:
30 in the morning?

Okay. These guys work

around the f***ing clock, all right?

There's probably one

under my door right now.

Can't you come over?

And do what, huh?

What are we gonna do?

Sit around and worry?

Trust me,

it's only gonna make things worse.

Listen, Mary, all right? I'm counting on you.

You need to calm yourself down.

All right, sweetie?

Yeah, I know, I know.

You're probably thinking,

"That's easy for you to say. "

F*** me, right? Yeah, but...

Look, I'm in this with you now, all right?

All the way.

So go take another downer, you know?

And if they're fives, take two,

wash it down with some booze

and get some sleep. All right?

Now, I need you to hold yourself together

for the next couple of days, all right?

And don't let this flyer thing

f*** with your mind, all right?

It's just routine. Okay?

Oh, yeah, and another thing,

don't drink and dial, all right?

That's how you get snared,

talking sh*t on the phone. All right?

- Hey.

- Thanks.

Hey, there, you children of the night,

almost 36 straight hours

into the Spaz-a-thon,

and I'm feeling like a dead rat

slept in my mouth.

It's 3:
45 EST.

I'm not talking Eastern Standard Time,

I'm talking Eddie the Spaz Time.

Step out.

You scared the sh*t out of me.

Step out. Step out.

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