Sea of Love Page #4

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My daughter's getting married Sunday

out on the Island.

You like weddings?

Get out of here!

Want to dance

with a couple of bridesmaids?

Want to know how we catch her?

We put in our own ad.

Say what?

New York Weekly magazine.

We put our own ad in.

A hundred guys

place ads in there a month.

They get 30 to 50 responses each.

That's 4,000 or 5,000 women.

What are we gonna do?

Go out with 5,000 women? Hell, no.

We know the broad

is into rhyming ads, right?

So we put in a rhyming ad.

"Moon, June, spoon, sand dune."

We set up dates with 30, 40, 50

of the ladies who answer.

We take them out,

some restaurant, some bar...

get their prints on a wineglass.

Bingo! She's dropped.

I love it.

That's horseshit, but I love it.

Do you know how many guys

placed ads last month that rhymed?

Three.

She went out with two of them.

Sh*t!

I can't believe we haven't

chased down that third guy.

Raymond Brown,

I tracked him through his post-box.

- What are you, a f***ing cop?

- Sometimes.

Gruber.

I'll catch up with you.

How you doing?

This 20-year thing,

it's kicking my ass.

I'm sorry.

"Raymond Brown,

Downtown Brown."

Here we go.

"Loneliness and silence

"Envelop a heart

that pounds like thunder

"All the love I have inside

"Is ripping me asunder

"The city is a jungle of pain

"But my love is from the soul"

"So be so kind

as to answer this ad

"And you can ride on my pole"

Give the guy a break.

This is a major lonely heart.

Major?

Good afternoon,

I'm Detective Frank Keller.

This is Detective Sherman Touhey.

Does a Raymond Brown live here?

Daddy!

What's the matter?

They're cops.

What's up, fellas?

What's wrong?

Relax.

Are you all right?

I want to tell you something.

I love my family.

Raymond, no kidding.

We don't give a sh*t.

All we need are the names of those

you went out with and their letters.

I don't have letters.

Raymond, there's some

psycho woman out there killing guys.

I swear,

I didn't go out with any of them.

I threw them away.

I didn't have the heart to do it.

Raymond, you take the time...

to make up this beautiful poem...

about loneliness and silence.

You spring $300

to put the ad in the magazine.

You spring another $500 a month

for some love nest in the Village...

$50 for the post office box...

and you're trying to tell us

you never went out with any of them?

Raymond, please.

You know what the worst part

of being a cop is?

Eight hours a day,

all you hear from people are lies.

"I didn't do it. I wasn't there.

It was somebody else.

"Blah this. Blah that."

I swear on the eyes of my children.

Miss Wrong, we got her.

Upstairs gives us $300

to put the ad in the magazine...

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