Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to an exhibit of the eerie and the oddball.
Our first offering this evening, faces...
Paint, pigment and desperation...
The quiet desperation of men over 40 who keep hearing footsteps behind them...
and are torn between a fear and a compulsion to look over their shoulders.
The painting is called They're Tearing Down Tim Riley's Bar.
Pritkin's Plastic Products.
Hold the line, please. May I help you, sir?
- Randy not back yet? - No, he had several meetings outside.
With several outside martinis.
When's he due back, Miss Alcott? I have to talk to him about the Carstair order.
I'm right on top of that myself, Mr. Pritkin.
I can give you any information you need, sir.
I thought Lane was handling that. I've pretty much taken it over, Mr. Pritkin.
Got a full report on my desk. Just give me a minute, and I'll get it.
Where is he, Miss Alcott?
Well, he, uh, mentioned several meetings outside. I've no doubt.
Most of his business of late seems to be outside.
Tell him I want to see him when he gets back. Yes, sir.
I've got the Carstair material right here, Mr. Pritkin. Bring it into the office.
- Mr. Pritkin. - Yes?
Today is Mr. Lane's 25th anniversary.
His anniversary? The man's been a widower for 18 years.
Twenty-five years with the company.
- I wasn't aware of that. - I only broach it, sir, because,
maybe someone... someone in the firm took him to lunch or something.
Just a little celebration.
Antoine's? ls Mr. Lane there?
Did he come in for lunch? I see. But he's not there now.
Well, if he does come in, would you please tell him to call his office right away?
Yes, this is his secretary. Thank you.
How do, madam? Can I interest you in our line of plastics?
It's 3:00.
So it is. inexorable time in its flight.
But what the devil? This is a very special day.
I know.
On this day, 25 years ago,
having conquered Europe for General Eisenhower and President Truman,
I doffed my khakis...
and enlisted in the cause of Pritkin's Plastic Products.
Twenty-five years, Miss Alcott.
That's a quarter of a century.
So, what the devil? If a fella can't get a little
sauced on that kind of anniversary, I say,
what good is motherhood and the flag?
Are there any messages? Yes. Mr. Pritkin was looking for the Carstair order,
and Mr. Doane took it in to him.
Mr. Doane took it in to him.
Johnny-on-the-spot Doane!
With assistants like that, who needs assassins?
But you did most of that report.
Well, what's the difference?
You see before you, Miss Alcott, a man too old and set in his ways...
And at the moment, a little too deep in his cups... to do war with the young Turk...
in the cubicle immediately to my left.
You know where I've been for the past hour?
Standing on the sidewalk in front of Tim Riley's Bar.
That doesn't mean anything to you, does it?
Should it?
It's just an old eyesore that they're gonna tear down pretty soon...
and put up a, eh, 20-story bank building with an underground parking lot...
and fluorescent lights and glass walls and...
And high-speed, self-service elevators,
and I wouldn't be surprised if they piped in music too, right in the lobby.
And a year from now,
no one will remember that Tim Riley had a bar right on that corner...
or that he sold beer for a nickel a glass, or
that he kept snooker tables in the back...
or that he had a big nickelodeon, on which you
could play three Glenn Miller records for a dime.
It occurred to me...
The thought occurred to me...
that there should be some sort of a ceremony.
Maybe just a convocation of former beer drinkers and Tim Riley fans...
to hang a wreath and maybe say a few words.
Farewell, Timothy Riley's Bar...
and Terraplanes and rumble seats,
saddle shoes and Helen Forrest,
triple-C Camps...
and Andy Hardy and Lum & Abner...
and the world-champion New York Yankees.
Rest in peace, you age of innocence...
You beautiful, serene, carefree,
pre-Pearl Harbor, long summer night.
We shall not look upon your likes again.
Bear with me, please, Miss Alcott. I, uh...
Well, they're going to tear down Tim Riley's Bar, and no matter how...
silly and as sentimental that sounds, I have lost something.
What do ya say, sport? Have a good lunch?
Dandy.
I took the Carstair stuff in to the old man. He was gettin' kind of anxious.
Good on you.
Made a few embellishments. I hope you don't mind.
Be my guest.
That sales pitch you had in the opening...
- I had to touch that up quite a bit. - Touch away, lad.
- Touch away. - You puttin' me on?
Me, putting you on? Why would I possibly want to do that?
Usually when I try to be a little independent, you step on me.
Usually when you try to be a little independent,
you're too flamboyant, too arsty-craftsy and noticeably dishonest.
I step on you, Doane, to keep you within 10 feet of Mother Earth.
Now, I'll admit you're a hotshot peddler, but unless you are mildly restrained,
you'll soon be claiming the moon. It takes awhile, doesn't it?
- To do what? - To get arise out of you.
Young Master Doane who has to draw blood before the 6:00
whistle or else he goes home and kicks his teddy bear!
All right, pat yourself on the back. You've gained a point.
You pricked me. You finally riled the old bull.
But remember, there is a pecking order around here.
You are still outranked. You are still my assistant. You are still...
Is this a private altercation, or may I involve myself?
I think we might excuse you, Miss Alcott. I'm sure you have some work to do.
Well, Doane? It really wasn't anything, sir.
Mr. Lane was just reminding me of his seniority.
Then perhaps Mr. Lane should be reminded that
seniority doesn't come from merely putting in time,
not on this ball club.
I judge a man by his current record, not last season's batting average.
You mean, what've I done for you lately, huh? Precisely.
And what you've done for us lately isn't very
much. Oh, you've put in time, but not much else.
Protracted lunch periods, considerable martini
drinking and darn precious little mustard cut.
Candidly, Lane, your assistant here has left you whinnying at the starting gate.
I want this understood... Your performance, Lane, has deteriorated.
Your sales have slipped. Your entire attitude has become sloppy.
I suggest a trial period during which both you
and Mr. Doane will share the director's spot.
He'll no longer be answerable to you.
Oh, you can consult each other,
but any ideas he has of his own, he's free to follow.
That understood? Clearly.
Incidentally, uh,
I'm reminded this is your 25th year with the company.
This little unpleasantry notwithstanding, I just wanted you to know...
that you have my congratulations.
I hope the next 25 years bring bigger and better things.
Something else, was there? Perhaps you're waiting for the funeral oration.
Look, young Mr. Doane, why don't you and I just level with each other?
I'm on the way down, you are on the way up.
We're just passing each other in midair.
I'm looking at a threat, you are looking at an obstacle...
and that is a lousy basis for any mutual, friendly back-scratching.
Can I get you something?
I had in mind a fancy gold watch, properly engraved on this anointed day...
Something like, "Well done, good and faithful servant."
You know, on an anointed day like this,
a man shouldn't have to spend the evening alone.
I've got a steak in the freezer saved for special occasions.
And a couple of Idahos suitable for baking...
and a great salad dressing I make myself.
What do you say?
I say that you are a very dear lady.
I say thank you, but no, thanks. Why not?
Oh, the syndrome of the 25-year man who did not get the gold watch.
He's too full of himself,
he's too sorry for himself and he makes lousy company.
- Another time? - All right.
Miss Alcott?
You are a good lady.
That's because I work for a very good guy.
They're closed, Randy.
Don't I know it.
Yeah, I know how you feel.
The first arrest I ever made was in Tim Riley's Bar.
Couple of guys arguing over whether Carl Hubbell...
could throw faster than Lefty Gomez.
And if that don't date me, then I'll join Tim Riley under the sod.
First date I ever had with my wife was in there.
When her father found out about it, he practically had a stroke.
Yeah, don't I remember her. Katy, Katy Dunovant.
She was a lovely, lovely lady, Randy.
That she was.
When I got back from the service,
they gave a surprise party for me in there.
My train was late.
When I finally got here, my old man had fallen asleep in the corner.
I'll say one thing... the old boy could put away a keg of the stuff.
And many's the night I sat here with him while he did it!
And while I did it!
Oh, things going well for you, Randy?
I'm 48 years old. That makes me six years younger than my father was when he died.
Yeah.
Well, when I first met you in here,
I had a spring in my step and arches in my feet.
And my one ambition in life...
was to capture Al Capone.
Mmm!
But one morning I woke up...
and found that I'd run out of vinegar.
All I wanted was Epsom salts.
So now I walk a little slower,
and I pray for quiet nights.
And I keep reminding myself that I...
I'm flatfooted and slower than molasses,
but I'm still a lot faster than Al Capone.
Ah, look after yourself, Randy.
♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ Which nobody can deny ♪
♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ Which nobody can deny ♪
You'll be joining Mr. Doane as of next Monday morning.
Doane? His secretary Miss Trevor handed in her notice.
Getting married or something. In any case, she's leaving. You will assume her duties.
Hmm? Mr. Blodgett.
- What about Mr. Lane? - Mr. Lane?
Well, I've been working for him for two years.
- I'm not sure what the arrangement will be. You'll have a replacement, of course.
But as of the moment, Mr. Doane needs you next
Monday morning. Requested you personally.
But what if I don't wish to work for Mr. Doane?
What's that supposed to mean?
That's supposed to mean he's done everything but wear track shoes!
Regrettably, in my capacity as personnel director,
I have neither the time nor the inclination to listen to your
personal assessment of the executives of this organization.
I'll put it to you bluntly, Miss Alcott. You either
show up for work with Mr. Doane Monday morning,
or this afternoon at the cashier's for your severance pay.
Which will it be, please? I'm very busy.
Got the word, huh?
Loud, clear and irrevocably.
Close the door.
If it makes it go down any easier,
I feel a lot worse about this than you do.
I seriously doubt that.
Well, you have a choice. You can tie yourself to a rocket or to a groundhog.
There is so much handwriting on the wall around this
place, it's beginning to look like a gigantic men's room.
And that's it?
Well, there's a... there's a lot more to say.
A couple of items having to do with...
how grateful I am to you for everything you've done for me.
But unfortunately, I am stone-cold sober now and not given to loquaciousness.
Well, you do know that, don't you, Lynn? How grateful I am to you.
Hurry up, Lynn. We're going to open the present. What is it?
Open it!
It's a chafing dish!
♪ For she's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ For she's a jolly good fellow For she's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ Which nobody can deny Which nobody can deny ♪
♪ Which nobody can deny Which nobody can ♪
Well, sir, what's the first day been like?
The first day?
Just wanted you to know I'm keeping my eye on ya!
You're going to become our number-one salesman, Randy. Numero uno!
The company'll be moving into plastics soon. It's the coming thing.
You're gonna move right on up with us! Right up in front!
Mr. Lane? It's your wife, sir.
You want to take it on your own phone? My wife?
- Katy, honey! It's Randy! - Did you call me, Mr. Lane?
Who is this? It's Lynn, Mr. Lane. You buzzed me.
- Is there something wrong? - No, no, no. Nothing wrong.
♪ I'm a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ Yes, I'm a jolly good fellow, ♪
♪ For I'm a jolly good fellow, ♪
♪ Which nobody can deny ♪
♪ Which nobody can deny Which nobody can deny ♪
♪Oh, I'm a jolly good fellow Yes, I'm a jolly good fellow, ♪
♪ Yes, I'm a jolly good fellow ♪
You'd better be the night watchman, buddy, or the equivalent.
Night watchman?
I outrank every night watchman in the world!
I am, late, a sergeant, 2nd Platoon, 'B' Company,
508th parachute infantry, 82nd Airborne Division.
I have just recently returned, V.E. Day being behind us...
Then why don't you come with us, and we'll celebrate the event?
It isn't every day the war ends.
Well, I would like to accommodate you, Officer. I mean, I genuinely would.
But the festivities are right here.
In a few moments, Timothy Riley is going to accompany my old man on the piano.
My old man is going to sing s a Long Way to Tipperary.
Now, I grant you, it may be unharmoniously harmonious,
but what they lack in symmetry they make up with gusto!
- You gonna come with us, buddy, or... - I'll take care of him. I know him.
You know him well enough to explain to him he can get 30 days apiece...
for trespassing and being under the influence,
plus tack on 90 more for breaking and entering?
I said, I'd take care of him.
Before you say one word, Officer McDermont, I must report to you...
that I am the sole custodian of $11.80 worth of Antoine's finest bourbon.
Okay, Randy, fine. Now, listen. I'm just gettin' off duty.
My car is parked less than a block away from here.
So what do you say to a nice little ride home?
Aren't you gonna stay around for the party? The party is over, Randy.
Over? Where's everybody gone?
They've gone to their respective rewards.
The party's been over for 25 years. Come on, laddie. Let's go home.
No, no. Officer McDermont, this is where it is, right here.
This is where what is, Randy?
The best years of my life.
It may be that you decide to call downtown for the psycho squad,
but something... different has been happening to me.
I keep getting beckoned to by ghosts.
Every now and then it's 1945! How do you like them apples?
And if you think that sounds nutty, get a load of this.
I wish those ghosts would stick around. They're the best friends I've got.
I feel a lot more comfortable with them than I do with these live, warm,
flesh-and-blood bodies I ride up and down elevators with.
Randy, why don't you tell me all about it in the car?
Because I want to tell you about it here! Now, I rate something more than I've got!
Where does it say that every morning of a man's life he's got to Indian wrestle...
with every hot, young contender off the sidewalk who has an itch to go up one rung?
McDermont, I've put in my time. You understand that? I've paid my dues.
I shouldn't be hustled to death in the daytime and then
die of loneliness every night! That's not the dream!
That's not what it's about!
Okay, Randy.
Come on. I'll drive you home.
I want to go to 67 Bennett Avenue. Hey, wait a minute. You don't live there.
The devil I don't. You used to live there. Now you live in a high-rise on Norton.
I don't live there. I just wash my socks there. I live at 67 Bennett Avenue.
It's a two-story, white-frame house. Katy and
I bought it six months after we were married.
That's empty now, Randy. They're tearing down the whole block, every house.
They're gonna build an apartment complex.
Humor me, Officer. Drive me there anyway.
Ehh, well?
They sure don't build 'em like they used to.
Hmm. I'll walk from here.
I can... I can walk from here.
I'm sober now.
Okay. But don't go knockin' any doors down.
The next time you get a collar on, I won't be around to help, you know.
Get some sleep. Good night, Randy.
Supper's ready, Randy. Randy, will you wipe your shoes off?
You're tracking mud all over the hall carpet.
Good night, Randy darling. Randy my love.
Randy? Randy?
Randy?
- You lost? - But I thought you might be.
No, I live here. Correction... I used to live here.
I know it's presumptuous, but...
But when you didn't come back from lunch, I was concerned.
I remember you were mentioning Tim Riley's Bar.
By the time I got there, though, I saw the...
policeman putting you into his car.
I followed you. You followed him because you were concerned.
And Mr. Pritkin? Was he concerned too?
Go ahead. Tell me. Well, he was upset.
Upset! Yes, I can well imagine.
And I'm sure our Mr. Doane put in his oar too.
With unholy glee. And I'm sure he reminded Mr. Pritkin...
that as of 10:00 this morning, I had left the premises.
I am on the way out, Lynn. I expect you know that, don't you? Yes.
Katy and I bought this place...
six months after we were married.
Katy was my wife.
It must have been quite lovely.
Oh, it was. We had a lot of plans for this place.
Well, she had a lot of plans. But then she died not long after that.
You loved her very much.
To the depth and breadth and height that my soul can reach.
Which is from Browning,
who is passe, and...
now only quoted by lachrymose aging men.
Have you had anything to eat? I've had considerable to drink,
which more than compensates for what I haven't had to eat.
But I do thank you for your concern. It's very much like you.
You think I'm playing den mother...
because... because I feel sorry for you?
No. No, that's not what it's all about.
Enough. Enough already.
I am obviously past prime, but I am...
I'm not made of pig iron. Please don't make it too tough for me, huh?
I... I think you're going to need a ride.
What's the matter?
- It was raining that night too. - What night?
She had a miserable cold. Couldn't shake it. Wouldn't go to the doctor.
When I got home, my next-door neighbor was waiting for me.
They... They tried to reach me, but I was out.
Would you believe it? I'm selling plastics, and my wife is dying.
Please get in!
Katy? Katy, I'm coming! Stay there, Katy! I'm coming, Katy!
I'm coming, Katy!
Katy...
Mr. Lane? I got here soon as I could. One of my neighbors told me that...
I'm afraid you're too late, Mr. Lane.
It was pneumonia.
We did everything we could, but...
I'm sorry. Mr. Lane's apartment isn't answering.
Thank you.
I could've saved you the trouble.
Your boss spent the night in the city jail. Little squib in the morning paper.
Good morning. Good morning.
Mr. Pritkin? Yes.
I'm afraid we're minus our sales director this morning.
Mr. Lane's sick?
I imagine so, after spending the night in a drunk tank.
Should you hear from Mr. Lane, Miss Alcott,
tell him I should very much like to see him...
at his earliest convenience.
Miss Alcott, just a little suggestion...
Always play the favorite. That applies to thoroughbred horses.
And you, Mr. Doane, happen to be a jackal!
And as of this moment, you are unemployed!
At last I have something to thank you for,
because not to have to work for you is my most cherished ambition!
Well, Miss Alcott. Are you gonna give him the message or am I?
You put your hand on that doorknob, and I'll break it off at the wrist!
You can add another to my long list of accomplishments...
I now have a record of arrest.
I know. A great deal can happen to a man in 24 hours.
Mr. Lane's office.
It's Mr. Pritkin.
Randolph Lane here.
Yes, sir. No, I understand, sir.
Yes, I... I know all about corporate images.
Well, that, too, Mr. Pritkin. I realize the value of good public relations.
I understand, sir. I'm close to an expert on that.
Well, if I vacate my office in, say, uh, 10 minutes, will that be all right?
Fine.
And thank you, sir, for telling me yourself.
The well-known ax.
One stroke.
I don't think there's anything else around here that belongs to me...
or that I want to take with me.
When you do your housecleaning for Mr. Doane, perhaps you would...
If you find anything of mine, just send it... I won't
be working for Doane or for anyone else around here.
Wherever you go, that's where I go.
I'm afraid that won't be possible, Lynn.
You see, where I'm going, I don't think they'd let you in.
Good-bye, Lynn.
I've been late... A little bit too late all my life.
So now I'm going to stake a claim on a few of the better memories.
And for this particular... date, I'm not gonna be late at all.
Oh, Mr. Lane? There's a call for you.
Mr. Lane no longer works here. Mr. Lane no longer lives here.
Mr. Lane is no longer available.
And if anybody else should ask,.
Mr. Lane has gone to a homecoming at Tim Riley's Bar
For Randolph Lane who has Just departed the premises,
one small, lonely word on his behalf,
since nobody else seems to give a damn.
- Now, listen, Miss... - In exchange for 25 pretty good years,
you've given him the boot and the back of your hand.
Now he's alone, tired and a little frightened,
Maybe the least you could've given him would've
been a gold watch. That wouldn't have been so bad.
But just a word... a gentle word would've been better,
when all he really needed was that one word...
to let him know that he had worth.
That much you could have given him.
That much, Mr. Pritkin,
you should have given him!
Uh, wait a minute. Hey! Wait a minute!
Welcome home, Randy. It's good to see you.
It's good to see you, too, Tim. Awful good.
Randy! How are you, son?
I'm fine, Pop. I'm just fine.
Hello, darling.
Katy!
Oh, how I've missed you.
♪♪
♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ Which nobody can deny ♪
♪ For he's a jolly ♪
Oh, forget about them! Don't think about them at all.
Come on, everybody! This is where it's at! Right here! This bar, now!
I'm back. Don't you understand? It's 1945, and I'm back!
- Come on! Everybody, please sing! - Randy...
Come on, Pop. Give us a couple of choruses of Tipperary.
Tim, play the piano. Everybody... Everybody sing!
How about that, Randy? They're tearing down Tim Riley's Bar.
- That's what they're doing, Tim. - Yep. That's what they're doing.
Katy, you sing for me! Please, sing.
♪ Should auld acquaintance be forgot ♪ Oh, no, Katy.
No sad songs on this occasion. This is a homecoming. ♪ And never brought to mind ♪
- Oh, no, Katy, no! - ♪ Should auld ♪
♪ Acquaintance be forgot ♪ No. We're gonna be married, you and I.
♪ And days of auld lang syne ♪ we're going to buy a white
house with two stories. That's what's going to happen.
Don't you see? And I'll tell you one thing. I'll tell you something right now.
♪ For auld lang syne, my dear ♪ We'll change it all.
It's gonna be right this time.
I'm not gonna lose you, Katy. I swear to God,
I'm not gonna lose you. ♪ For auld lang syne ♪
♪♪ Hey, wait a minute. Wait a minute!
Listen to me! I can't stay here.
I have no place here. I'm an antique, a has-been.
I have no function, no purpose here.
If you dessert me, I'm marooned!
I can't survive out there!
Don't go away! Come on back!
Pop? Tim?
Don't you see? They've stacked the deck that way.
They've got it fixed so you get elbowed right off the earth!
You don't know what it's like out there! I tell you,
the whole bloody world is coming apart at the seams.
I can't hack it! I swear to God, I can't hack it!
♪ For auld lang syne ♪
Katy, I can't lose you. You're all I've got.
- I've... I've lost everything else. - ♪ For auld lang ♪♪
Hey, mister!
You wanna get outta here? You're in the way.
Come on, buddy! We're on overtime as it is.
Back it up, back it up!
Hey, Mac! Move it, will ya?
♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ Which nobody can deny ♪
♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ For he's a jolly good fellow For he's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ Which nobody can deny ♪
♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ Which nobody can deny ♪
Randy Lane, it occurred to some of us...
Your friends...
That a man shouldn't have 25 years go by without being remembered...
and thanked..
And reminded that he's held in deep affection and sizable esteem.
It's to my discredit, Randy, that I ask you to forgive me...
if I haven't told you this before...
and more than once.
To the past 25, but much more important than that, to the next 25!
Welcome, art lovers. We offer for your approval...
a painting which has to do with what happens to
men who take a walk into nature's marketplace,
and exchange certain powers for other powers.
The blind, we're told, for example, develop an extraordinary sense of touch.
In this case, the story of a man who perfects the art of killing.
Our painting is called The Last Laurel.
Marius? Dr. Armstrong is here.
My eyesight isn't impaired, Susan, only my legs.
Now get out and close the door.
- What's the problem tonight, Marius? - The friendly bedside manner approach.
There's no need for that, Doctor.
My condition stinks, and it's still unchanged.
I don't want to appear ungracious, Marius, but why
was I asked to drive 30 miles to come here tonight?
The bridge is out.
I had to come across on the ferry, and I'm
told that mine was the last car allowed over.
You'd think, wouldn't you,
a man who was cracked up on a freeway,
a man who'll be crippled for the rest of his life,
forced onto his back,
you think he'd be spared any further indignities.
Your point, Marius?
Just where does it say in that oath of yours...
that you can walk into a man's house and rob him of his wife?
You're aren't serious, are you?
What do you think, Doctor?
I won't even honor that question with an answer.
I summoned you here simply to inform you...
that all that hanky-panky is a matter of record...
and that I have every intention of dealing with it...
in my own unique fashion.
Now, get my wife in here.
- Mrs. Davis? - "Mrs. Davis?"
Oh, why not "Susan," Doctor?
After all, that's what you call her when I'm not in view.
Susan, now that the bridge is out,
I'm afraid our good friend has no choice but to spend the night.
A development, I'm sure, which pleases you to no end.
Marius, that's not true.
Oh. Your lover boy will be in the bedroom across the hall.
While that former decathalon champion...
Now a half a man...
Lies here incapable of doing anything about it.
Could you both do me a favor?
Get out of my sight!
I'm sorry.
Don't be.
It's happened before.
Even a teenager who delivers the groceries.
Marius is convinced that I'm playing the field.
Yes? Only with you...
Where you're concerned, it's lately become an obsession.
All he talks about, all he thinks about...
I can live with his fantasies.
- I'm having trouble with my own. - What do you mean?
Last night I woke up.
It was almost dawn.
I thought I heard something. I sat up in bed,
and I swear to you,
I saw Marius walking out of my room. Susan, that is a fantasy.
He can't get onto his feet, let alone move an inch without falling.
I wonder.
How peaceful you look, Marius.
How totally in repose.
But they wouldn't sleep so well if they knew, would they?
If they realized what I've been able to accomplish...
To be able to leave my body through sheer force of will.
To be able to shed that crumbling, useless frame...
Just like kicking off a shoe.
Mind over matter, buddy. That's all it is.
Just like going back into training... Learning, practicing, perfecting.
A man gets a power for a purpose.
There's a plan to things.
Dig this one, old friend.
I'm going out there and get my wife's sewing scissors,
and I'm going to stick them very deep...
into the jugular of a certain young doctor across the hall.
And what will the police call it? Homicide.
What else could it be?
There lies poor Marius Davis with his withered legs.
And the only ambulatory human being in the house...
is his comely young wife.
They may not give laurels for what I'm going to do,
but, baby, this is going to be one championship performance all the same.
Check that, Marius.
See what I can do...
just by concentrating my will.
But that one was for vaudeville.
Now comes the money play.
Now, that took some real doing.
Now, this was some trick...
To be able to pick up objects.
Oh-ho-ho! Beautiful.
Oh, this is beautiful.
Dr. Armstrong, I hope your insurance is paid up.
Oh, now you've paid, buddy!
Now you've really paid in full!
What could I have...
Ohh, God!
I'm in the wrong room!
Marius, what's the matter?
Marius Davis doesn't live here anymore.