The Book of Love Page #5

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Morning, perv.

I told you I'm not a pervert.

Just 'cause you

shaved your 'stache,

don't mean you can fool me.

Now, where is it at?

Here. Here you go.

Hey, hold on.

Can we talk for a second?

No, a**hole!

You torched my shed.

That... that was

an accident.

It was everything

I had, dick-weed.

You got any idea

how long it took me to...

What, build a raft?

That's what you're doing, right?

Wait.

Wait! Hold on!

Back off!

Oh!

Whoa.

Merde.

Um...

Every...

Everything's fine.

I'll be... I'll be

right back, okay?

But...

Ho ho.

That's Oprah.

Hey, wait a second!

Suck it!

Uh, why are you building a raft?

"F" off, Amber alert.

Wait. Hey, look, I got...

I have the plans.

I have your plans right here.

I did... i did this... i mean,

it's just from memory,

but I mean, you know,

with a few modifications,

but I-I've got

a ton of ideas, okay?

Well, you...

You can use my backyard,

okay? Please,

this is my fault.

Let me...

Let me help you.

Forget it.

Oh, okay, stop.

All right, now, look, I know

you don't know me at all,

and you're right to be dubious

of strangers, but I just...

Well, I...I really think I'm

supposed to do this, to help you.

Sorry.

What's this?

What do you think it is?

I lost my tools in that

fire, you little sh*t.

It was an accident.

I don't care...

Not anymore.

Ah, I promised your old man

I'd look after you, and...

It ain't worth

the money from the state.

Tomorrow morning,

you're on the bus to Biloxi.

You're your aunt's problem now.

Let's get one thing clear.

I ain't doing this

'cause I like you.

I'm doing it 'cause Ahab

and me has got no choice.

Got it.

And if you mess with my stuff,

I'll beat your ass.

Okay, I won't.

Promise me.

I promise.

There's a spare room upstairs.

Oh, we'll sleep in the backyard.

Thank you.

My pa used to say

that most stories

usually don't start

where they're supposed to.

Henry's story really started

on April 28th, 1947.

That's when this dude,

Thor Heyerdahl,

sailed from Peru

to the Tuamotu islands

on a raft made

of balsa wood and scrap.

Months later, he completed

the first trans-pacific crossing

on a raft in, like, 700 years.

You know his most famous quote?

Some years later,

he died of a brain tumor.

Think that's some sh*t.

You little sh*t.

Yeah. My entire yard

is filled with junk,

but, you know, I mean,

I haven't seen her in two days.

Uh, I'm just saying, I...

You know, I just don't think

it's safe for a young girl

to be out all night.

I wouldn't worry.

Man, she seemed tough.

She probably out

looking for more crap.

She ought to go to Pascal's.

He got

a crap-load of crap.

Heh.

Dumbass.

Dumbass!

Hey, I-I gotta go.

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