Lovely Molly Page #4

I... I never thought|I'd see that kind of thing from you.

I mean, what the hell|were you doing?

Molly?

Well, f***, Mr. Hensley.|I don't know what to say.

- What?|- I mean, who was that man

that's f***ing the sh*t|out of me in the hallway?

Wait. Wait! What man?

How the hell would I know that,|Mr. Hensley?

Please keep your voice down.

I mean, one minute|I'm lugging trash down the hallway,

and the next minute?

Yeah, pulling down my pants|so this man can nail me from behind.

I mean, it's a goddamn mystery,|Mr. Hensley!

You're completely out of control.

- It's a goddamn mystery!|- You're going home.

- I have no idea!|- Go home!

Okay. I'm coming over.|We're going to talk

and figure all this out.

You don't have to do that.

Oh, I most certainly do.

Don't.

Molly, I'm not asking.

I don't want you to get hurt.

Why would I get hurt?

Molly, why would I get hurt?

Pastor Bobby|is coming over tonight.

Tim wants him to talk to me.

So, I'm in good hands.

You can stay out there|for a few more minutes.

Then you have to come in|and help for dinner, okay?

Okay!

You are a funny man,|Pastor Bobby.

Well, that's my gift.

Actually, not much of a preacher.|I don't think.

Always thought|my future lay in comedy.

What do you think?

I'd stick to preaching|if I were you.

Yeah. I heard that.

No, I didn't come here|to get drunk, Molly.

When was the last time|you got drunk, Pastor Bobby?

I mean, like sh*t-faced...|Sorry.

I mean, like really drunk.

Well, I don't think|that's appropriate.

Come on, Pastor Bobby.

Even Jesus drank a little wine.

Well, I was fairly tipsy|at your wedding, you'll recall.

Dancing with all the girls.

I remember, Pastor Bobby.

Yes.

But I mean like, stumbling home,

passed out on the lawn|kind of drunk.

Well, it would have been|a very long time ago,

before I was born-again.

You miss it?

Not really. No.

But I thought I was here|to talk about you.

Tim's worried about you, Molly.

I know.

He doesn't want you|to start using again.

I'm not.

And I'm not going to start.

Okay.

So what's up?

- What's up?|- Yeah.

I'm just trying to|deal with something.

What?

Something that I thought|I was done with in my life.

The drugs?

No.

Is it the death|of your parents?

Molly, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I know how painful|this is for you.

Grief this strong|can recur at any time.

And it must be|especially difficult

living here in this house|where you grew up together.

- I know how hard this is for you.|- He's not dead.

What?

What did you say?

You like my panties?

Tim got 'em for me for Christmas.

Santa Claus red.

- Molly, I'm so sorry...|- No need to apologize, Pastor Bobby.

You're still a man, aren't you?

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