Needful Things Page #3

- I'm scared I'll drop it again.

- You won't drop it.

Come, Mrs. Cobb.

Please, sit down.

Listen.

Sometimes I think I can hear

the tiniest laugh.

I like you, Netitia.

I won't yell at you, like George did.

You moron!

No!

I think it should be yours, Netitia.

I need to go to work.

I'll see you soon. I'll drop by for a bite.

Mr. Keeton eats there most every day,

does he not?

Yeah. Danforth Keeton.

And everybody calls him Buster

behind his back.

Why is that? Pray tell.

I don't know.

Maybe someone should play

a trick on Buster.

Teach him to be nice.

My husband played a lot of tricks on me.

Maybe it would be fun

to play one on someone else.

Nobody would ever know it was you,

I promise.

Welcome to Needful Things.

Alan Pangborn.

- The sheriff around these parts.

- Leland Gaunt. Owner.

- So, what can I sell you, Sheriff?

- Me?

Nothing. I got everything I need, thanks.

Fair enough.

How about a piece of pie?

Your fiance Ms. Chalmers sent it over.

- My fiance?

- Such a pretty lady.

You're a lucky man, Sheriff. I'll be back.

Goodness.

I wish I had some cheddar cheese.

But beggars can't be choosers, can they?

Certain we haven't met somewhere before,

have we?

What, you and me?

In a big city.

You look familiar, Al.

You look out of place here, actually.

You don't mind my saying so,

so do you, Leland.

So, where are you from?

Ohio.

Akron, to be precise.

Pittsburgh.

I'm from Pittsburgh.

So, why did you leave?

I was a cop there,

and I got tired of all the sh*t going down.

And one day I just lost it.

I hit this guy.

Way too hard.

I reckon he needed some killing.

But it was still wrong.

Of course it was.

Yeah. So I left, and now I'm here.

So am I.

- Reverend.

- Sheriff.

- Alan, thanks for coming!

- Afternoon, Father.

- Hi, Sheriff.

- I got this in the mail this morning.

"Listen up, you mackerel snapper. "

- Excuse me.

- "We've tried to reason with you...

"... but it's been no use.

We have put up with your Popish idolatry...

"... and even with your licentious worship

of the Babylon whore...

"... but now you've gone too far. "

"Babylon whore. "

I mean, saints preserve us.

"Heed our warning.

Give up your plan to turn this town...

"... into a den of thieves and gamblers,

or you will smell the brimstone.

"'The wicked shall be turned into hell. '

Psalms 9:
17.

"The concerned Baptist men

of Castle Rock. "

It's that idiot, Reverend Willie Rose.

Maybe you shouldn't have

called it "Casino Night. "

For God's sake, Alan.

It's only a little charity gambling.

I mean, I don't know why

it upsets the Baptists so.

I'll go talk to Rever...

When I was younger,

people got along better!

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