Legion Page #3

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- It was nerves.

- You make people nervous.

- Only sinners.

- Everybody!

- Is everything all right, guys?

- We're fine!

- I'm just tired.

- Well, call the desk and book a room.

- I brought a burger.

- I'm not hungry.

- Eat half. It's from Clyde's.

- Where's the other half from?

Space. Your native country.

- Who stuck this guy?!

- Peaceful here, isn't it?

Idyllic.

- Those will kill you, incidentally.

- They're quiet.

- Mr. Horowitz?

- Nope.

- This is 409?

- 411.

Never mind.

Go in peace, my child.

May the Schwartz be with you.

- Shouldn't you be reading the Gospels?

- They don't give the fashions.

- This is true.

- Damn right.

Gowns are boring.

Get me something to read.

- I've gotta go.

- Pick me something up.

- The grammar.

- The National Enquirer and Star.

There are missions in India.

Couldn't you find one?

These are last week's editions.

I'll leave this mystical conversation.

Aesthetics always gives me a headache.

- Is it something I said?

- Mother India is calling you.

Dr. Kincaid to Orthopedics, please.

EKG stat to ER. EKG stat to ER.

Father Kanavan's vocal cords

were paralyzed.

He couldn't make a sound, couldn't cry

for help. The killer took his time.

- Succinylcholine again?

- In precisely the proper dosage.

Too little has no effect.

Too much causes instant death.

Our friend has medical expertise.

Did we find a hypodermic at the scene?

- No syringe.

- The fingerprint analysis?

- Most of the prints were the priest's.

- You said most?

We've got something else.

Right here, on the inside pull

of this panel. It's strange.

- Nobody touches this but the priest.

- And the killer.

He wants the panel closed so the next

person doesn't know Kanavan's dead.

So he puts his hand in

and slides it almost shut.

Then he has to pull his hand out

and finish the job from the outside.

So the prints on the oars from

the crucified boy match the panel?

They're one and the same.

Well, aren't they?

Two different people

committed these murders?

- Where's Julie?

- At dance class.

- So late?

- Bill, it's only 1 0:00.

It's very late.

Your attention, please.

Your attention.

The 1 2:
18 to Elsewhere

now departing from track 11.

All passengers boarding

proceed to the gate.

Let me out of this damn casa blanca!

- It is!

- It isn't. It's out of bounds.

- The line is in bounds!

- It's not!

It hit the dirt!

Earth, come in. Can you hear us?

We are attempting to communicate.

- Come in, please.

- The living are deaf.

- We come here first.

- Lieutenant.

- How you doing?

- I'm sorry you were killed. I miss you.

I miss you too.

- I wonder if both of us are dreaming.

- No, Bill. I'm not dreaming.

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