Outrageous Fortune Page #5

- Oh, he loved me.

- How could you lie, little b*tch?

- Oh, get away from me! Oh!

- Get out of here right now!

- I'm gonna b*tch-slap you! I'm gonna break

every bone in your body! - Oh, you are?

- Oh, you are?

- Yes, I am!

How dare you! How dare you!

- Oh. Ooh.

- He loved me.

He loved me!

Loved you? Loved you?

- Damn right he did!

- Ha, that's obscene.

No, that's reality, baby, 'cause no

way did that guy give a sh*t about you!

I refuse to believe for one

second that he would lower himself.

Oh, he lowered himself, all right.

This is all a lie. You are

psychotic. Yes, that's right.

I've known from the first time I

saw you sleaze into that office.

You lied to that phone man...

you lied your way into the

class and you're lying now.

- I'm gonna get you for this!

- Whoa!

Whoa, my... Oh!

Well, what the hell?

- Well, that's not his...

- No way. Look at that.

- It's too small.

- It's a f***in' pencil.

- Where's the appendix scar?

- And that little mole?

It's somebody else! He's alive!

He's alive! He's a...

Well, thank you. Wait a minute,

wait a minute. This was my idea.

I don't care, I'm gonna handle this.

You don't have the dimmest,

dullest notion how to handle this.

You can't just walk in and bluntly

announce this kind of thing.

Thing, thing. What kind of

thing are you talking about?

You can't even say it. You

sure as hell can't tell 'em.

And just what do you think the

response is going to be when you do?

You suggest...

You suggest...

You suggest that on the basis of

this little nugget of testimony...

we spend tax dollars

on an investigation?

Have you been listening to us?

The man in the morgue could

not possibly be Michael Santers.

All you have to do is look at his...

If you were to look...

in the region...

If you were to look down.

Michael was not a guy other guys would

have made fun of in a locker room, okay?

- I think he's got the big picture now.

- Well, I don't think he does.

This guy in the morgue, whoever he is...

he's got, uh...

Does the phrase "needle dick..."

"the bug f***er," mean anything to you?

- I beg your pardon!

- You big lunkhead!

Now get outta here and don't come back.

The model of tact and decorum.

Oh, who gives a sh*t?

He wasn't gonna help us.

Well, of course not! You sounded insane.

Oh, it is insane.

If he's alive, where is he?

He's probably back at my house,

wonderin' where the hell I am.

- Taxi! - Your

house? - Taxi!

- Oh. - Taxi!

- Wait a minute.

- W-W-Wait just a minute

here. - Come here! Taxi!

I don't believe for one minute

that he's at your apartment.

Oh, boy, are you gonna sh*t cement!

Taxi! Taxi!

If Michael is anywhere, I

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