The Best of Times Page #2

See, it's clicking.

No, it's pinging.

That's just technical talk.

You need a valve job.

Reno, I need to talk to you.

Not now, honey.

I got a noisy Continental

and a wet Lady Di.

You always got a noisy

Continental and a wet Lady Di.

- Hi, Gigi.

- Hi, Jack.

I want to talk alone.

Come on.

I don't like being embarrassed

like that in front of the guys.

- It's not good for business.

- Sorry.

What do you want, sweetheart?

I want a divorce.

0K. I know your v-dub

needs a new muffler...

Yeah, and ti-rod bushing

and an exhaust manifold...

That's not why I'm here.

I'll get Eddie on it.

My life's out of tune,

not my v-dub.

Well, this is sudden.

No, it's not.

Come on, Reno, face it...

things haven't been

the way they were between us.

They haven't been

that way for a long time.

I made some notes

so I wouldn't mess up.

"I've gotto get out of Taft."

This is no place for

a singer to get launched.

"My mind's made up."

It has been for a long time.

I was waiting for the right time,

but there is no right time.

"L..." I was crying

and the words smudged.

- I can't read this.

- I can read your writing.

"As soon as I get the courage,

I'll talk to Teddy.

I'm sorry, I don't want to

be married to you anymore."

- Right?

- Right.

I... I got to go.

0h, come on, honey.

I'm moving out.

Now, wait a minute, honey.

Bye.

Aw, come on, Gigi.

Aw, shoot.

Ah, a family spat.

Dinner and a movie,

she'll be fine.

Can I offer you some marital advice?

No.

There's only one way a

man can come back to his woman

after she's dumped him

and still maintain one's pride...

There's only one way.

Crawl, with dignity, of course,

and women will forgive anything.

- Shut up, Jack.

- You got it.

Gigi got as far as county line

before she always comes back.

She can't get L.A. Out of her head.

First time she's ever said divorce.

What?

Yeah.

That's a terrible word, Reno,

"Divorce", terrible.

She'll leave me

as soon as I fix her car.

- You gonna fix it?

- Hell, no! I love her!

I don't know what to say.

Neither do I.

You got a burned out

intake valve on number five.

It's going to cost you 400 bucks.

$400?!

How the hell can I argue with you

when your wife just left you.

My great sorrow

at your domestic problems

prevents me from

calling you a crook.

Get out of here.

What about my car?

God damnit!

You've got a choice.

For $400, I'll fix it right,

or for $1.50,

I'll throw in some STP, again.

It'll still run shitty,

but for a week sound great.

- So, what do you want?

- Here's $1.50.

In a week,

I might be dead.

Can I at least have a loaner

so I can get back to the bank?

It'll take 15 minutes.

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