The Man with One Red Shoe Page #4

filled to the breaking point

with personality conflicts.

His violin is a substitute

for severe anger and repression.

Sexual repression.

Yeah.

Yeah, you can see it in the eyes.

Hello?

Hello?!

Oh.

What the hell is that?

- The mike in the toilet is too loud.

- Turn it down.

If I do that, I'll have to lower all the others.

Why is he flushing the toilet? There's gotta be

a reason why he's flushing the toilet, Carson.

I'd say he's getting rid of evidence.

Clever.

OK, put a man in the sewer.

- Come on!

- Let's go!

- What am I looking for?

- Find out where the pipes lead.

He may be sending messages to someone.

- But why does it have to be me?

- Because that's a direct order, Stemple.

Go.

Ow!

All the alligator holes are marked.

All the what?!

Let's get outta here.

Who is it?

- What?! Who is it?!

- It's me!

"Me" who?

Richard, come on. It's me!

- Oh.

- Why did you avoid me at the airport?

Uh...

Hello, Paula. I, uh...

Paula, I'm glad... I'm glad you came by.

I think we need to have a little talk.

I wanna talk, too. After.

Here's the thing, Paula.

It's Morris. I can't do this to Morris.

All he cares about is his practical jokes.

I know, I know, I know, he's a percussionist.

But that doesn't mean he's not a nice guy.

He may be a nice guy,

but you are a terrific Tarzan.

Paula...

I don't wanna do Tarzan.

I'm doin' Jane.

- It's just Tarzan. What's the big deal?

- No.

Come on. I'll play all the other parts.

Sure. Are you gonna do Cheetah, too?

- If that's what it takes.

- Let me hear it.

I'm sorry, but I can't. I just can't.

- Why?

- Well...

I think it's because of Morris, Paula.

Remember Chicago?

Fate? Kismet?

No, I don't remember Chicago, Paula.

You got me drunk.

So that's your final answer, then?

Yeah... yeah.

Well, I can respect that.

I can't condone it, but...

No! Paula, will you...

Come on, listen to what...

Are you expecting someone?

Only your husband Morris,

to take me to a baseball game!

- Where's your purse?

- In the living room.

Yo, Richard! Come on, open up!

Morris, hold on... pal. I'll be done

in just a second - getting dressed.

- We gotta go!

- You gotta get outta here.

- I gotta get outta here.

- Yes. Go, go, go, go.

- Call me. Tuesday.

- Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Do you see what I see?

Wonder what goes on in there.

That's the trouble with surveillance -

you don't get to see nothin'.

- One. Two.

- What is... I should have known.

- Here, quick. Think fast.

- What is this?

It's a box of cigars. To make up for

all the stupid jokes I've been pulling.

- Thank you.

- It's all right. These are very good cigars.

I want you to smoke one after you get a little.

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