Outrageous Fortune Page #4

Hamlet.

Hamlet.

Shakespeare's tragedy of Hamlet.

Ah, well.

Uh, for her, we get the comic book, huh?

Taxi!

Hey!

Hey!

Oh. Ooh, that creep

Korzenowski is driving me nuts.

Ooh.

I know what I need.

Oh, God!

Oh, God!

Oh, God! Oh, God!

Oh, God!

Oh, God! Oh, God!

Ooh.

To die on the stage...

is perhaps the greatest

single challenge...

an actor can face.

The audience must know,

must absolutely believe...

that the breath, that the very life...

is going out of your body.

Now...

You! You will die now, please.

No, no, I don't believe you.

Maintain your focus.

Na, I don't believe you.

- Maintain your focus and lean forward.

- Stop, stop, stop. Stop it. Stop it.

- Are you all right?

- Fine.

Perhaps you would like to

die for us now, Miss Ames.

You, I think, I will shoot.

You will feel the

bullet enter your body.

You will lose all muscle control.

You will fall down dead.

Bang.

This can only be the achievement...

of years of training.

No other way would we ever

see so false a performance.

So mechanical, so thought-out.

Never for one moment truly felt.

Here, you must reach

deep inside yourself.

You must go beyond the

safety of what you know.

We know you can act, Camille...

but can you be a person

of flesh and blood?

Ah, time.

We die again tomorrow.

And, uh, please, give me your notebooks.

I wish to see them.

You can't walk there!

Hey, Ed, you want the delivery or not?

The man is a Nazi.

I have never been the

dumbest in any class before.

I haven't seen you for nine hours.

Taxi!

Taxi!

Mmm.

- You know what today is?

- No.

It's our third-week anniversary.

- Stop on the next corner.

- You got it.

- I think you need some roses.

- Oh, no, no, you can't afford any more flowers.

- Right here.

- No, don't stop.

- Half... Half a dozen.

- No, don't stop. I know what teachers make.

Don't stop.

Michael!

A crowd is gathered here. Traffic

is backed up for two blocks.

Killed in the explosion are Lee

Veran, the owner of the flower shop...

and Michael Santers, a teacher

at Holmes Elementary School.

Two terrorist groups have claimed

responsibility for the blast.

It's all right, Miss Ames. We've

got a positive ID from his wallet.

You don't have to see him.

I want to see him.

I warn you, there's

very little left to see.

Particularly in the,

uh, upper body region.

I wanna see him.

I'm very sorry you

feel a need to do this.

Just leave me alone with him, please.

What are you doing here?

- Me? What the f*** are you doing here?

- I beg your pardon.

- I am in mourning.

- Well, so am I!

- For my lover.

- Well, so am I!

- Who?

- Michael Santers.

- No, no, you little witch! No!

- You b*tch, you didn't know him!

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