Special Treatment Page #3

you'll understand better.

I wrote the lyrics and

they the music.

Come on, my song!

What am I to do mother

when I like to eat?

I don't just eat a lot,

I eat with pleasure.

I shall go on a diet

in Heaven,

I shall go on a diet

in Hell.

"Are you h-h-honest?

Are you f-f-fair?

G-g-get thee to

a N-n-nunnery.

Why woulds't thou b-breed

sinners?"

That's very funny.

Is there any more?

"What is a m-m-man

when his main goal

"is to d-d-drink..."

No, n-n-not to drink,

but to

"sleep and eat".

"He is a l-l-livestock

and nothing more."

Bedtime. I'm switching

off the lights.

Wait, what's the hurry?

W-w-we are n-n-not

in hospital.

It's past 10 p.m.

Bedtime.

Ha! Curfew! - Get out,

or I'll call the Doctor.

Regular Gestapo.

- Ass kisser.

It's for the child...

and for you.

He's asleep.

You like children?

- A lot.

That's why I feel sorry for him

for not having a mother.

He needs her at this

tender age.

I don't understand how a

woman could

abandon her son and

such a man.

I've heard he was really

rotten to her

and that's why she ran away.

- If it was his fault...

...he wouldn't have custody

over his son.

Only a stupid woman would

do a thing like that.

It wasn't my fault either and

yet the took away my kids.

Who did she run

away with?

With some artist, they say.

- Do I hate artists!

Where to?

- You scared me!

Go back to your room. - We're

having a little bedtime snack.

I must go now.

- Stay a bit longer.

First I must return

the fish into the river.

Come on, don't be shy.

Don't worry, that's my son.

We have visitors. Two

incurable cases.

My honorable father and

his best friend.

I didn't come on a social visit,

I came for some money...

I gave you money

three days ago.

We are celebrating his

birthday. - Three whole days?

Explain to him why!

- I had a rough birth.

It lasted for three days.

Just give me the money.

Don't nag your old man.

When will you pay me back?

- When will I pay back?

I always keep my word. I'll pay

you back on the 1st.

Oh, you've got a job?

- God forbid...

I'll pay when you give

me my allowance.

No more money.

Here.

Oh, no! Is this a loan?

- It's a gift.

Don't do that.

You don't know him.

I know him. You are an

alcoholic. - You mean me?

Him, an alcoholic?

- You sure are.

You're destroying yourself and

degrading your son in this town.

You asked for money

but he turned you down,

so you took from me,

a total stranger.

Next you'll steal from someone.

- Me steal?

Or you'll rob a liquor store...

- He's right.

You're talking rubbish!

Are you crazy?

Are you calling me a thief,

you idiot?!

Let's calm down.

Stuff your money

you know were.

Shame on you.

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