Previously on Rescue me.
So I started looking at apartments for all of us.
For all of us?
-Mm-hm. -It's Janet.
The last couple of days she'd been laughing at my jokes.
She's been smiling, happy seems kind of content.
She's either the world's greatest actress
or she's on drugs.
It's a drug called selectra, doc.
It's fairly harmless.
Any man that can write this has to be in love.
So now we need a third poem.
Sometime by the end of this week would be great.
You're still thinking about the sister thing?
There is kind of a 'ick' factor to this, isn't there?
I'm not 100% sure you and I have the same father.
I need your help, kid. She's bad, she's real bad.
-How long can you stay? -Had some time coming.
This is my new friend Debby.
I gave you permission to sleep with my wife
instead you turn her into full blown lesbian.
I kind of wanted this night to be special, you know,
this being our first date.
That's not a lady, pal, that's a whore.
Firefighter down.
You alright?
The fall you just took,
the dancing, the singing, the clean, the la la
what the hell are you on?
Goofballs. And they're working.
So I did some more checking up on Father Murphy.
The kid is by his side all goddamn day
and most of the night, in the rectory.
Mom, is there something wrong with Dad?
-He's in love. -With whom?
Jeannie. Hey, Jeannie.
You burnt the toast.
-You trying to run me over! -Come on, I gotta get to work.
-What are you doing here? -Shit, Jeannie.
This is a public fare, you can just go around me!
-Look, I'm sorry. -You don't have to try to--
-What's the matter with you? -I need-- We need milk.
Did you have to go naked? Do they give you a discount for that?
-Come on, get back inside. -Go inside.
Hey, hey. Jesus, screw you. I told you I was sorry.
Can I get my pan back?
Shut up about your goddamn pan, you old whore!
Mrs. Gervin, I'll get it back for you. I'll find it.
-What did she say? -You heard me!
My brother's a married man!
Go throw yourself at somebody else...
-...you slut! -Jeannie, come on.
I'll get your precious, goddamn pan!
-Mrs. Gervin, I'm sorry-- -But first, I'll take a shit in it!
-Oh, my-- I just wanted my pan. -Jesus, Jeannie.
I never liked her.
-Come on inside. -And her cake did taste like shit.
You know what she would have said if she had woke up?
-What? -"My ass look fat in this bed?"
Hey. How's it going with Janet?
-It's going okay. -Good.
-How's it going with--? -Like you give a shit.
Debbie.
Her name is Debbie.
And when she licks my tits...
...she does it nice and slow.
Bye.
Look at what you're missing, foxy.
Tommy. Tommy!
-Hey, you all right? -Yeah.
Yeah? How'd she do?
Oh, she did great. She fell asleep around 4 this morning.
-Okay. Hi. -Hi.
-You want some breakfast? -Sure.
Okay.
-Honey? -Yeah?
-Breakfast is ready. -Cool.
-Did you sleep well? -Yeah, yeah, just great.
-I made your special eggs with cheese. -Thanks, hon.
-Thank you. -You're welcome.
So you wouldn't-- What are you doing today?
I still have to pick up a few things for here.
I could use a couple more pans, bigger skillet.
You wouldn't happen to be going by the pharmacy at some point, would you?
Why do you ask?
I got a prescription I need to get filled. If you were going by a drugstore....
I am, as a matter of fact.
-Today? -Probably. I have something to refill.
Yeah, good, because you should, you know, definitely get that refilled.
A lot of people forget, you know. They go in there, and it's not filled up.
You know, healthwise, it's a good thing.
-Give it to me and I'll take care of it. -Cool.
What's your thing for, by the way?
-What, my prescription? -Yeah.
It's like a cold-allergy thing.
Eat.
Everything okay?
Oh, yeah. Just another day in paradise.
Your mother almost burnt the house down.
Then she felt it necessary to go shopping in her Skivvies.
Where the hell were you?
Packing.
Packing? You're leaving?
Dad, I told you, I gotta get back to Boston.
-You can't get any more time? -I called.
My chief's a good guy, not that good. I used up all my vacation time.
-What about sick leave? -Dad...
...I have to go.
My life is there, my job, Steven.
So that's it? I mean, you just walk out, just like that?
Like it's nothing?
Peter, I can't do this anymore. I can't handle it anymore.
I can't do anything.
That little girl that I fell in love with 35 years ago...
...is rotting away on the inside, and I gotta stand by and watch it happen.
I can't handle it anymore, Peter.
Don't worry. You can handle anything.
I love you, Pop.
And I'll be in touch.
Bud...
...I had an accident.
It's all right, sweetie.
-I'm sorry. -All right, okay.
-No, no. It's okay. -I didn't mean to do it.
Come on, let's get you cleaned up. Come on, sweetie.
Come on, it's all right.
-So the anticipation is killing me. -What do you mean?
For my next poem.
Oh, right, yeah, yeah.
Why do you need another? The first one was so good.
Oh, it really, really was.
-Thanks. -But the second one sort of sucked.
So now I have this tiny, nagging doubt, you know?
The two poems were so different from each other...
...I wonder if you just wrote the second one.
Maybe I wrote both, and the first one took so much out of me...
...I didn't have anything left.
I don't really care what happened, I just wanna know the truth.
Which kind of seems to be a chronic problem between us, Franco.
Did you write the poems?
They started here...
...they went through here, and they came out here.
Then write me another one.
-Why not, man? -Because, okay?
You have to be in a certain frame of mind to write that poetry stuff.
I mean, it's a mood thing.
-A mood thing? All right. -Yeah, it's a mood thing.
You seemed like you were in a good mood.
I'm in a shitty mood right now. Want me to write you shitty-mood poetry?
Life sucks. By the way, so do your tits. You want that? No.
Tommy, forget about her tits. Maybe you could write about her hair.
You know? Please.
All right, I'll try, okay?
-That's all I'm asking. -All right.
If it could happen by the end of the shift, great.
You're kidding me, right? You think Carl Sandburg came up with the whole...
...fog-rolling-in-under-cat's-claw thing under this kind of pressure?
Is that what you think?
I don't know what you're talking about, Tom.
Never mind.
-Hey, Tommy. Bring any of that coffee-- -Don't touch me.
What's wrong with you? What am I, your goddamn maid?
Get your own goddamn fancy coffee, asshole.
So how do I go about this?
There must be a service. Why not look in the phone book?
How much will it cost? Pretty steep, right?
Not cheap, but you don't need a live-in.
Hey, what are you talking about?
-Chief's got a little problem. -Yeah? Maybe I can help.
-Yeah, and I can grow a vagina. -Oh, hey, they're doing that in Asia.
They're cloning body parts. It's called cloning.
It's weird, huh? You want a vagina, you got one.
-Yeah. -What seems to be the problem?
This is gonna be a waste of time, but I need a nurse.
Oh, yeah? I happen to know something about nurses.
-I hired one, couple of months back. -Really?
Yeah, for Bald Paul's bachelor party. God, so funny.
She was cute. She had this slamming body.
Garrity, I don't need a stripper, I need a nurse.
No, she's a nurse. She's the real deal. She's got a uniform, whole nine.
If he doesn't shut up, he'll need a nurse.
She's a stripper and a nurse. She works at a hospital downtown.
-Stripper and nurse? -Yeah.
I need somebody to keep an eye on my wife during the day.
I can give her a call, see if she knows anybody. Maybe she can help.
-All right, give her a call. -All right, you got it.
-Jesus Christ. -What's the matter?
I'm going to Garrity for help?
Look at it this way: Things can't get worse.
Ready? Penny a point.
-Yeah. -Hey, it's me.
You picking me up, or am I meeting you there?
Meeting me where?
Tommy, you'd probably forget your dick if it wasn't Scotch-taped to your balls.
The blood drive...
-...Father Murphy's rectory, remember? -Shit.
-You told him we'd both show up. -I'll meet you there.
You might wanna pick up someone else's blood.
-Yours is probably still flammable. -Asshole.
-How was work today? -Slow, actually.
No fires. We had two stuck elevators, car accident.
Days like today, you know, I feel a little guilty about taking the money.
Although they only pay us $4.50 an hour.
So how guilty can you get?
God, Ken, you're so funny.
I really like being with you. You make me laugh.
-Well, some value in that, I suppose. -You have no idea.
In my work I meet a lot of men, but never the complete package like you.
Could we not discuss my package on an empty stomach?
Shall we peruse the menu?
Oh, shit, that's my work ring. Do you mind?
Work is work.
-Hi. You free at 10? -Hey, babe.
Ten? Yeah, I'll be free. Your place?
-My place. Bring a friend. -Yeah, I can bring a friend, of course.
-You sure you can afford us both? -Sure I can.
Right. Okay, I'll call her now.
-See you then, sweetie. -Great.
-I'm sorry, I need to make another call. -No problem.
-Hello? -Naomi, it's me.
Wanna do a double tonight?
-What do you got in mind? -Nice guy, great loft, should be easy.
He wants to jack off while we go down on each other.
Yeah, sure.
Sorry, wrong tube.
-I'll text you the directions later. Bye. -Great. Bye.
Was that terrible? I'm sorry.
You know, I--
I consider myself worldly in an unworldly kind of way.
Is there another way for you to make money?
Whatever happened to waiting tables?
Nothing pays as well. And my pimp wouldn't be too happy.
Can I talk to him?
I'll be honest, I've talked to him about quitting...
...but he says I'm one of his best girls. There's no way.
-Has he ever hurt you? -No.
-No, F-Bomb's great. -F-Bomb, of course. F-Bomb.
Listen, if I was to talk to this F-Bomb...
-...try to convince him to let you out-- -Kenny--
If I could convince him to let you out, would you quit?
Yeah.
-Yeah, I would. -Then give me a number.
They're not people you can negotiate with. He'd kill me, literally.
What about if I pay him? Like buying out your contract.
-I couldn't. -Ask him.
-Are you sure? -Yeah.
You're so sweet.
I'm thinking about the meatloaf.
Seriously, Tommy, trust me on that. One or two cookies usually do the trick.
I feel really lightheaded. You have any more juice?
You almost fainted getting off a table.
I got up too fast, okay?
You should watch your language in front of the house of God.
-He's right. -Sorry.
Yeah, asshole. You wanna get some coffee?
I'd love to, but I gotta clean things up. Then I gotta get Ricky home.
-He seems like a good kid, that Ricky. -He's a great kid.
I gotta run, and thanks for donating. And would you go easy on the cookies?
-I'll be fine. -Thanks.
I like that guy, but he's starting to creep me out just a little bit.
You and Mickey, man, all you do is judge people, you know? He's fine.
You give that guy a bad nose job, a ranch with some rides on it...
...and Liz Taylor's number, you're looking at Michael Jackson.
First of all, he's our half brother. So if he's Michael Jackson...
...that makes me Tito and you Jermaine.
Why do I gotta be Jermaine?
Because I'm Tito.
What's he doing? That kid over there, what's he doing?
I've seen him. He's been here last couple of times I was.
-Hey, what are you doing? Hey. -Hey, what's up?
-Oh, shit. -Oh, man, he's running.
What happened? Tommy, what are you doing?
Hang on. God.
Watch out for the traffic.
Hold up.
-Get your hands off me, man. -Settle down, settle down.
I'm a cop. Settle down.
Settle down, come on.
-What are you doing? -A little lightheaded again.
-Who's that? -My brother. He's a pussy.
It's all right. Take it easy.
-You know this kid? -I saw him a couple of times.
-Come on, man. -What's wrong?
None of your business.
I'll take you to Father Murphy....
-What? -He's gonna take you to Father Murphy.
You do that. I'd love to see the look on his face.
-What do you mean? -He sees me, he'll--
He'll shit himself up to his collar.
What are you talking about?
-I'm Ricky's older brother. -Yeah?
And I'm watching that shitface asshole because I know he's--
He's molesting Ricky the same way he molested me.
Started when I was 13, lasted almost three years.
When my mother told me Ricky was spending time with Father Murphy....
I don't know, I blame myself.
I should have said something.
Now I don't know what I'm gonna do.
-What are you doing? -Nothing.
I was just checking to see if your mom had some pills.
-Pills? -What?
-Pills. -No, "bills." I said "bills." Like money.
Don't be a smart-ass.
-Are you taking a poetry class? -English.
The teacher's this gay guy who smells like bacon.
He loves poetry, so we learn a poem every week and recite it like dweebs.
-He smells like bacon? -Yeah.
So this is, like, romantic poetry, right?
-Yeah. They're all stupid, though. -You've seen them all?
Are there any ones about, like, women's hair?
-I don't know. -Could you see if you can find a poem...
...that was either about how pretty a girl's hair is...
...or has some parts that is about hair and just write it down for me?
-Why? -It's a surprise for your mother.
-Good morning. -Hey. hey.
-Hey, morning, baby. -What's going on?
-Mom, Dad's making me copy a poem. -Oh, God.
It is nice to see you taking an interest in your children's homework.
-I know. -It's not--
Never mind. My life blows.
-Yeah. -Watch your language, please.
-Hey, you hungry, babe? -No, I can't. I'm gonna eat with Mick.
Hey, did you happen to get my prescription filled for me?
No, you forgot to give it to me.
-You didn't go to the drugstore, then? -No.
It's no big deal. Give it to me and I'll take care of it.
I'll have my doctor call it in. You can pick it up when you pick up your stuff.
-Okay. Hey, what is it? -Great.
-My thing? -Yeah.
It's like Advil, only, you know, bigger.
So why don't you just take, like, a big handful of Advil?
It's nothing like Advil, I don't know why I said that. It's the same colour.
-All right, so you won't forget? -No.
-Okay, I love you. -Love you.
-Bye. -Bye.
So, what do we do?
Well, there's not much we can do, Tom.
We got a priest who's had two relationships with 13-year-old boys...
...over three, four years. There's gotta be something we can do.
-We got your scumbag brother-- -Half brother. Your half cousin.
--who'll deny every word of it.
Listen, as much as I would like to nail this bastard...
...and run his ass into Rikers, we don't have anything.
What do you want me to get, Polaroids? Movies?
Here's me in the Grand Canyon, and here's me banging a 13-year-old.
Maybe the kid's got something.
-He didn't mention anything. -You asked him?
I'll ask him.
Physical proof of the relationship, that's what we need.
Otherwise, we'd have to catch him in the act with his brother.
God.
All of a sudden I'm not hungry.
Likewise.
-Well, why not? -I've stuck my poetic dick out for you...
...and got it chopped off.
That was a great poem, you can tell your girlfriend I said so.
She doesn't know shit about free verse.
Lou, you gotta help me out here. I got nowhere else to go.
She's up my ass looking for this, and I got zip from Tommy.
He left me twisting in the wind, as usual.
Please, Lou? You're the only real poet I know. Please.
Well, you know...
...since you asked nice, what kind of thing we looking for?
Hey, hey, here's your poem, man. Sorry it took so long.
That fresh coffee? Looks kind of old. Make a new pot?
-Yeah, I'll put on a new pot. -Great.
Oh, Tommy, you rock, man. This is great.
-All right, thanks anyway. -Yeah. Great.
In the words of Elizabeth Barrett Browning: Blow me.
Who leaves a space heater on in the summer?
-It's gotta be a broad. -Yep.
95 degrees out, they still feel a breeze.
It's an oxygen thing.
They talk about shoe sales, and how their mothers are screwed up...
...and "Can you believe that shop didn't let Oprah in?"
There's no air left inside, creates a vacuum. Next thing you know:
July in Christmas, Christmas in July. Love it.
-Yeah? -It's Mariel.
-Hey, how you doing? -Hey, I got the blood test done.
-I'm sorry? -The DNA, it's not the same.
Well, yeah, listen, Mariel--
So you wanna grab dinner and a couple of drinks tonight?
Look, Mariel, I'm actually back with my wife.
I mean, it's not-- You know, it's not absolutely perfect...
...but I'm trying to make it work, you know what I mean?
-So can you--? -Gotcha.
Bad timing, I guess.
I hate to put it this way...
...but if things kind of go south, give me a buzz.
Bye.
Dr. Feinberg's office.
Yeah, hey, this is Jimmy Keefe calling.
Sheila Keefe's husband. Is the doc in?
-Yes? -Jimmy Keefe is on the phone.
Put him on.
-Doc? -Mr. Keefe.
I need a prescription for this drug. It was prescribed by a F.D.N.Y. doc.
I haven't been able to pick it up. I was wondering if you could do me for it.
It's called Selectra. It's harmless. Should be available over the counter.
And I was just wondering if you could-- Hello?
My research has proven to me two things.
About the drugs?
About you. You're not Jimmy Keefe.
Jimmy Keefe gave his life in the tragedy of 9/11.
-Okay. Let me explain, all right? -Number two...
-...whoever you are... -Yeah?
...you need far, far more than Selectra...
...to cure your many deeply seated problems, my friend.
Dick.
-What's the deal with this? -You call up...
...you tell them what service you want, and they send a bunch of nurses.
-I only need one. -I know, but that's the fun of it.
They send over a bunch, and you choose one.
It's like American Idol, except it's nurses instead of singers.
You don't get to vote to see who wins...
...and Paula Abdul's not acting like a freak.
It's not like American Idol. But it's a good service.
-Give me the number. -I'll get it.
She said you could call and they'd send people tonight.
Good. Hey, Garrity...
...I never thought I'd actually hear myself saying this, but thanks.
No problem, chief.
I got it.
This is amazing, it--
It's even better than the first one.
Well, what can I say, baby, you inspire me.
I-- I--
I can't believe you wrote this.
-I know. -No, no. I-- I'm--
I really can't. I'm suspicious now.
What are you talking about, baby?
Laura, I told you, they start here...
-...they go through here-- -Yeah, heart-head-mouth thing.
That was amazing the first time.
Now something's just not adding up.
You said the second poem sucked, and you wanted a third--
Yeah, that was a test. That you failed, Franco.
You know, hugs aren't the answer right now.
So you move in for the kiss if it's not a hug?
What's next, a tit grab?
Oh, my God.
Laura, I was not gonna grab your breasts, okay?
-This poem is yours. -Not me.
Lou, you can tell me. I sure know that Franco didn't write it.
-How? -I love the guy, but he's not a poet.
He wrote a shopping list the other day. Three things.
Took him a half-hour, and he spelled "peanut butter" with four T's.
There's three of them.
Anybody can make that mistake--
Okay, he spelled "Coke" with a capital K.
Point taken.
I wanted to believe he was writing this...
-...but now I know it was just you-- -It wasn't me.
If it wasn't you, then who?
I'm not at liberty to say. You're within your rights to ask.
Sean?
The probie?
Not Gavin?
Tommy Gavin?
I was just calling to check in, see how everything's going.
Oh, Tommy, that is so sweet. Hey, how's it going there?
Just one call, electrical thing, we knocked it down in 15 minutes.
So you running around?
Yes, and I'm getting a lot done.
You didn't happen to get to the drugstore yet, did you?
Heading there. You call in your prescription?
I was just about to call my doctor and call--
Hang on, hang on, hang on.
-Yeah. -It's me. I need you to come over.
-Holy shit. -Tommy?
-Hello? -What?
I'm not coming over.
-She hit me. -Who?
Debbie. She punched me in the face. I now have a black eye.
So why you calling me? Call the goddamn cops.
She sets you on fire, then you can call me, all right?
-Hang on. -No, no.
-She might be coming back soon. -Janet?
-Is Tommy Gavin there? -You're talking to him. Who's this?
Kevin Vasquez.
-Ricky's brother. -Oh, right, yeah. How you doing?
The answer's yes.
-What do you mean? -I have something. Proof.
A letter he sent me, telling me he couldn't see me anymore.
Warning me not to tell anyone what happened.
He signed it?
-Yes, sir. -You wanna nail this guy?
Get him shit-canned? Take care of him for good?
-My brother's a cop, all right? -I remember.
Call him, he'll run the info through the system.
We'll take this guy down.
-I don't know. -What about your brother?
You wanna protect him or not?
I'll think about it.
Goddamn it. I have another call coming, hang on.
-Hello. -I'm still here.
Hold on.
-Yeah. -Hey, I lost you.
Goddamn cell phones, honey. Hang on. Hang on.
I called the prescription in. Whenever you wanna work your way over there...
-...would be great. -Is there some rush?
Well, I guess I'm like a lot of people, you know, I like really fresh medicine.
-What? -I gotta go.
-I love you. I gotta go. -Bye.
Bye.
-Kid, you there? -I'm here.
-Christ. -Tommy, please, please, come over.
I don't wanna be here by myself when she comes home.
I swear I will never ask you for anything again.
-Please, please, please. -All right, I'll come over. Okay?
But you better have a black eye...
...or otherwise, I'm bringing one with me, okay?
All right, bye.
You wrote this?
No. No.
Don't deny it. Lou told me everything.
Lou didn't tell you anything.
Nice bluff, though.
We were just talking about you.
Did you talk to Laura about the poem that Franco wrote for her?
-No, she asked me some questions. -And what did you say?
Oh, I didn't say anything. It was all kind of subtext.
Okay.
I wrote...
...the first poem and the last poem.
-The middle one-- -The one that sucked?
Yes, that was Lou. I was just doing a friend a favour, okay?
Sure you weren't doing yourself a favour?
What do you mean?
You're making a move on me.
No.
You don't write beautiful, gorgeous poetry like this...
...because you're helping out a pal.
Okay.... First of all, I happen to be back in love with my wife.
I don't know if you've heard the talk, but we're back together.
-You write your wife poetry like this? -No. Yes.
-Kind of. It's complicated. -Complicated how?
It's complicated because I'm taking these pills now, for something else.
But I ended up writing poetry while--
-So they're like poetry pills? -They're not poetry pills. They-- It's--
But I wrote a couple of things on it.
-About me. -No.
I mean, yes, in-- You know, in a roundabout way...
...but not what you think.
Why don't you admit that you have feelings for me.
I don't have feelings for you. Not like that.
But you're attracted to me?
Well, truthfully, I'm-- You're a very attractive girl.
You're very hot, you have a great ass. But you're one of those--
Hey, you guys.
-What's going on? -Ask your pal.
-Yeah, pal, what's going on? -I was eating some ice cream.
I had one of those Biggy Iggy.
It was stuck to my lips and Laura was just--
I gotta call somebody.
Thank you for coming. It means a lot to me.
Let's see the eye.
-Oh, shit. -I know.
Where'd you meet this broad, a holding cell?
Everything was fine. We were like two peas in a pod, right?
And then she totally loses it...
...and she starts talking about how annoying I am, and how needy I am...
...and how I always make everything about me...
...and that I'm a drama queen...
...and the list just goes on and on and on.
Yeah, hard to imagine.
Let me ask you something.
Will you stay for a while in case she comes back?
-I need moral support. -Not to mention a whip and chair.
-I'm not gonna get in the middle of this. -No, no, you won't.
Just stay for a little bit and sit down.
All right.
You want a whiskey?
-A soda? You want a club soda? -Yeah, yeah. Good.
Okay, I'll get it, I'll get it.
Kathy, thank you so much for coming over on such short notice.
You have an extensive and impressive résumé.
Yeah, I like helping people.
-Lot of nursing. -Helping people...
...and opening their eyes and their ears...
...to the glorious word of our Lord, Jesus Christ.
Es-- Exper-- Ex--
Esperanza.
Ins-- Ex-- What? Es-- Es--
Esperanza.
I like skin.
I really, really, really need the cash.
Thanks a lot for coming by.
Thanks.
So...
-...you're back with Janet? -Yeah.
-Yeah. It's going great. -That's good.
How's it going with--? Oh, that's right, she punched you in the face.
-Yeah. -Not going good.
Honey, I'm home.
Does she lead with her left or her right?
Right.
What's up?
We....
We should talk outside.
-I did not do that to her. -Know what? Bullshit.
-What are you talking about? -Jesus, I did not do that to her.
-She hit herself? -Banged her head on a closet.
On purpose, if you ask me, to get you here.
Know what? I love her, but she still has a thing for you.
-Really? -Oh, hell, yeah.
I know she got involved with me on a rebound basis...
...and I didn't care.
I thought that she was starting to feel the way I feel about her.
But oh, my God, every other story was "Tommy and me"...
...and "Tommy used to say," and "Tommy" this, "Tommy" that.
Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.
Well....
I guess that makes sense then, what--
-It's crazy, but-- -See what I'm saying?
Yeah. Yeah.
That's just....
-Still. -It's crazy.
-Oh, thanks. -She's--
She is just so hot.
Yeah, she....
She is. Oh, thanks.
And her skin is so chocolaty, man.
Yeah.
Those nipples, how great are those?
Yeah, they....
Hey....
Listen.
The other night, when I was going down on her...
...she was trying to tell me about this special thing that you do.
I didn't want to hear any more Tommy bullshit...
...so I ran downstairs, started pouting, but....
I was wondering...
...if I could ask you....
-About the thing? -Yeah.
Yeah.
You better get a pen.
Hello?
-Hello. -I'm sorry.
Hi. Come in, come in.
Are you...
...Hazel Haynes, from the Bronx?
No, I'm Rose Atwell. I just moved in next door.
I brought you a pie.
Good luck.
He gave me a list.
-Yeah. -Hey, Tommy, it's me.
Look, the kid called. We ran the signature on the letter.
Matches our half brother's. Mickey and me...
...we're down outside the church. The kid's on his way.
-You wanna join us? -Yeah.
Perfect end to a perfect day.
How's this gonna go down?
Shouldn't be too complicated.
We sit the jerk down, tell him he'd better make a new career choice.
-It's creepy being in here at night. -Tell me about it.
Last time I was in a place like this, I was making out with Patty Jenkins.
You know what? Me too, in church.
-Patty Jenkins, really? -Yeah. You?
-Yeah. -What a slut.
-Three for three. -But she was holy.
-I wonder where she is. -Probably in that confessional...
...where I left her, with her skirt over her head.
-You banged her in the confessional? -Yeah.
That's--
You know, I'm disgusted by the two of youse.
-Can I help you? -Hey, Father, it's just us.
Oh, well, I hope you're not all here for confession.
I'll have to call for some backup.
No, you won't.
We're not the ones doing the confessing.
So, what does that mean?
You wanna tell us about Ricky?
What about him? He's a great kid.
Yeah, we're sure he is.
Or he was, before you put your hands on him.
-What are you insinuating? -What do you think?
I don't know, that's why I'm asking you. Tom, you wanna help me out here?
Did you put your hands on him?
That is a pretty disgusting remark to make.
-Especially in a house of worship. -Give me a break.
Not all priests engage in that kind of behaviour.
In fact, some of us can keep it in our pants.
So you're saying...
-...you're not involved with this kid? -No.
-So you never touched him? -No.
Say it.
We need to hear it, Murph.
I have never touched Ricky.
What about his older brother?
Can we talk someplace else?
You know, when I heard from the Feeneys about....
About what was going on with your wife...
...I just thought...
...based on what I went through with my late husband, that, you know....
That we should talk.
Yeah. Thanks.
-It's good to talk. -Yeah.
How long did your guy last?
Five years.
He didn't know me.
He thought I was 25 years younger.
Wishful thinking.
Bud?
-Bud! -I'll be right there.
She thinks I'm her brother Bud.
Who she's always loved, no matter what kind of crap he pulled.
Wishful.
Wishful, yeah.
Anyway, you go. I'll clean up.
Hey....
-Thanks. -You're welcome.
Thanks.
Kevin was a troubled kid.
He was one of the altar boys here.
He developed a fixation on me.
I was flattered at first. He didn't have a role model.
His dad was long gone...
...but it got unhealthy quickly. From his side, not mine.
I told him we couldn't interact on any level.
I figured I would put in for a transfer...
...just to be safe. Maybe he saw the error of his ways...
...but he took off before I put in any paperwork.
So there was nothing sexual between the two of you?
Nothing.
This tells a different story.
I don't see any mention of a sexual relationship here.
I think a jury will see that a little bit differently.
Maybe you guys should leave.
-Not until you-- -What is the big deal?
Like he was the only kid who was ever abused? Give me a break.
You wanna know something? Can I tell you something?
I was abused by a priest.
Yeah.
I was abused. At first I thought, "Well, isn't this horrible?"
And I wanted to kill myself.
I thought it was just the worst thing ever...
...but, you know, then I realized something.
I liked it.
-Jesus Christ. -Yeah, I liked it.
Made me feel special.
I mean, think about it. Here's this man...
...God's holy messenger on Earth...
...and he wanted to lay his hands on me.
There was something beautiful about that.
You got nothing here.
I don't think it's nothing.
Kevin.
Be honest, Father.
It's a lot more than nothing.
-What are you doing here? -What do you think I'm doing?
Can I talk to him alone? Do you mind?
-Hey! -Hey.
-Hey, hey. -Hey, Kev. Come on.
-Come on, Kevin. -Come on. Kev.
Kevin, put the gun down. Come on.
-Admit what you did. -Kevin.
-Just relax. Take it easy, okay? -You wanna be alone with me?
-Admit what you did. -I know what I did.
-I can live with that. -Oh, yeah?
Well, live with this:
-Oh, no! -Oh, Jesus Christ.
Oh, my God.
Go call somebody.
Hey.
You son of a bitch. Come here.
Get up, you son of a bitch.
You piece of shit. Son of a bitch.
Give him last rites.
God.