R.I.P.D. Page #6

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You let him get out the window.

Aren't you better than that?

You're the one who put me

with training wheels, here.

But go on, make a show.

Be the boss.

You still have a hard time with

the "boss" part, don't you?

You played the game,

got what you wanted.

I don't play the game.

And my ass is

mine and mine alone!

Eagerly noted!

Come on.

It's flat, anyway.

Roy, Nawicki was trying awfully

hard to protect this gold.

Don't you think we should try

to figure out what it is?

Trust me,

it's nothing.

Ninety-nine percent of

these things are just

fundraising items

for various religions.

Just crap.

What about

the one percent?

That's why we

lock them up in here.

Bag it,

tag it and bury it deep.

Is that all of it?

That's it.

Sign here, please.

Roy, listen.

What?

Nawicki cared an awful

lot about that gold.

Yeah.

He was trying to

hide it from us. Why?

So, now

you're all gung-ho, huh?

I'm thinking

we should follow up.

Let me guess.

Genius has a plan.

Genius wants to get out on

the street and work this.

I think that you

can help me with that.

You know why? Because every

great cop that I've ever known

has their own informant.

Big Roy...

Big Roy,

he's gotta have one.

You want an informant?

Big Roy's got

the best informant.

Now batting for the

Red Sox, number 34, David Ortiz.

Elliot.

He's a pain-in-the-ass Deado.

All he cares about

is the Sox.

So, I let him stick around

in exchange for information.

Here.

You're in mourning.

You got a hole to fill.

You know, I can't

taste anything.

Of course not,

you're dead.

R.I.P.D. don't eat,

we don't sleep.

You're here to kick Deado

ass, that's about it.

Then why would

you eat this?

I enjoy the mouth feel.

How's it going, Elliot?

We're up.

But they're hitting like

crap. We'll blow it.

Knock yourself out.

Hello, Elliot.

One of your buddies was willing

to get erased for this.

Why?

Rook.

That belongs in evidence.

I thought you were

some kind of rebel, Roy.

I fought for the North.

Would you mind terribly if I

got back to my investigation?

Go continue

your investigation.

Tell me what

this is, Elliot.

That looks like

a big hunk of gold.

Uh-huh. That's not gonna

cut it. Try again.

Hey! Hey! Get

your hands off me!

You behave

yourself now, Elliot.

Because of me, you're sitting there

all cozy and not lying in a pine box.

Not walking the desert, trying to

get your femur back from a coyote.

You cops

are all the same.

Always obsessing

about how you bit it.

How was your funeral,

newbie?

Did you cry when they gave your wife

that nice folded-up flag?

Hey-

That's fun, right?

I think we both know there's

no Red Sox on the other side,

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