Mojave Moon Page #5

Good.

I can't stop thinking about you all night.

I'm sorry... I'm...

Hmm... it's hot!

I'm gonna really fast use your shower.

What you're doing?

- Taking off my pants.

- Please... put them back on.

Why? Am I ugly?

Oh, no!

Al, honey?

Got any shampoo?

What?

Shampoo...

Got any?

I don't wanna to have to

wash my hair... with soap.

- What's wrong?

- I heard the door bell.

Will you just give me

the shampoo!

I gotta see who it is!

- Who's there?

- Julie!

Al, is that you?

Julie?

Hi!

- Are you alone?

- Of course I'm alone.

Was the downstairs door unlocked?

I guess so.

So are you gonna let me in?

- Al, what's wrong?

- Well... nothing.

Nothing's wrong.

Come in.

Oh... Oh... this is nice!

Oh... it's so cool in here!

So how long have you been

living here?

I didn't expect to see you

so soon.

- Well... I thought you might need this!

- It's my wallet!

There was no telephone number

but your address was inside.

- You didn't have to.

- I know.

- Shouldn't I be here?

- Nobody else knew you're here, do they?

No.

- Oh God! Mom!

- Ellie!

What are you doing here?

What's she doing here?

Nothing!

She just came by to... tell me...

to...

she...

wanted to...

...use the... shower!

Oh...

Well, that's so sweet!

I mean, you're so nice!

You never see people letting people

use showers anymore!

So did you remember to

wash all the hair off the soap?

I can't believe this!

Are you following me?

I was returning Al's wallet.

What's the matter with you?

You're ruining everything for me!

- I am not!

- Yes, you are!

- Al has his wallet back.

- Big deal!

- You had a nice shower!

- Oh, you're such a dise!

Ladies, please!

Shut up!

Thank you!

I have a little bit bigger problem

than losing my wallet or

what kind of a shower

she's had or

why you're here.

Downstairs, in my car,

in my trunk, there's a guy... dead!

I don't know who it is,

or how he got there!

But he was there

when I left your place last night.

You're kidding, right?

Maybe you know how

it got there!

Wait, you think that...

I don't even believe you!

- You don't?

- No, I don't.

Do you?

Over here.

Where the hell is it?

Where's my car?

Where the hell is my car?

THEY STOLE MY CAR!

JESUS CHRIST!

Well, call the cops!

All right, uh, tell them it's a Lincoln

with a dead biker in the trunk.

It'll be easy to identify that way!

A biker?

Yeah. A motorcyle jacket on

with my fingerprints all over it!

- Oh, my God.

- What?

Kaiser!

Oh, what did he look like?

I don't know.

He looked dead.

He just drove it right out!

Is he big or is he small?

- Medium.

- Colour of his hair?

Maybe blonde, why?

- So what are you saying?

- He killed him.

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