Previously on Dirt:
Hi, Lucy.
- Julia, what are you doing here? - You ruined my life.
I was thinking about that article you wrote.
It was actually pretty good.
But I have some cuts.
You reap what you sow, Lucy.
Guess that whole "reaping what you sow" thing works both ways.
Hey, it's me again, Don Konkey. Dirt Now's resident schizophrenic...
- Dad, I think it's time. - ...and photographer.
I take photos of celebrities and I sell them to my best friend and boss,
Lucy Spiller, the editor of Dirt Now magazine.
So much to catch you up on, so try and keep up.
It all started when Holt McLaren sold info to Lucy about Kira being pregnant.
After Lucy broke the story, Kira OD'd and died.
After hearing about Kira's death, Holt freaked out and flipped his car
with his girlfriend, big star Julia Mallory,
and that's when things got really complicated.
- Lucy and Holt kind of had sex... - Oh, God!
...a lot. Julia started sliding into the world of drugs and sex...
Jesus Christ, Julia, what the hell are you doing?
...and then leaked her own sex tape, then claimed she was raped.
She'd have gotten away with it if Lucy hadn't have found out
- and published the truth. - This is a great cover.
I'm really worried about her. She's been in a coma now for two weeks.
I'm all she has left.
Oh, my God! Oh, my God!
Anyway, I'm just really hoping Lucy wakes up...
...and things get back to normal.
You're all right, Lucy.
Yeah, you're all right.
You're OK. You got hurt, but now you're OK.
You're safe.
You're all right, Miss Spiller. You're all right.
She's trying to say something.
- I think she's asking for her mother. - No, no, no, no. Listen.
The cover...
Cover...
This is great. It should be a sidebar.
OK, lose the drop cap on this one. We're not The New Yorker.
I've asked for the sales numbers twice. What's up?
- Terry's bringing them over. - Bringing them over? Call her.
- She needs to rest. - No, no, no, Don...
Go.
- Don, I'm fine. - Because you've been getting rest.
- How's the injection going? - OK...
They mix the drugs with sesame oil to cause it to time-release.
Just regular sesame oil. Like a stir-fry.
Don't... No, don't...
I can't believe I'm looking at you.
You know, I knew you were here the whole time.
I could feel you.
But tonight, Don, you gotta go home. You do.
You gotta sleep in your own bed.
I don't care how many pizza boxes or newspapers are piled on it.
- You gotta go home. - OK. Come on, have some tea.
Oh, thank you.
That hurts.
How are you doing, buddy? You're getting bigger all the time.
- Holt McLaren. - Don Konkey.
David Fincher described you as
"an actor possessed" and "deeply instinctual."
The movie tracked well with men 18 to 34 and even better with women.
- That's good to know. - While your reviews were excellent,
the movie probably won't receive a nomination
because it's considered a genre film.
Listen, man, can I come in?
- Who told you where I live? - A woman 18 to 34.
Right. Yeah.
I don't have any beer.
You drink Bud, Corona, Rolling Rock.
- I do have some cheese, however. - What's that smell?
My cat.
So did you tell her I tried to visit her?
Yeah.
No.
She needs to rest.
Don, I miss her.
And you're the only one that knows, so could you just tell her I miss her?
- Please? - OK.
- How's she doing? - She thinks she's better than she is.
- Yeah. Is she coming home soon? - Two weeks, if there's no infection.
Infection's the killer with this type of wound.
- She can't get an infection. - But she's pretty alert, though?
She's Lucy. She's very alert.
All right.
- Spiller? - Yeah. Animal therapy. Hug A Pet.
- Is that a Bearded Collie? - It sure is.
- Would you like to say hello? - Yeah. Hi. What's his name?
- This is Bugsy. - Hi, Bugsy. Hi, baby.
So, how'd you know? Nobody ever guesses the breed.
Because I used to have one when I was in high school.
Best dog I ever had.
- Spiller... Are you Lucy Spiller? - Yeah, I am.
Oh, my God.
- What a... It's a terrible story. - You should see the other guy.
Man, she just went crazy?
- I guess so. - Was it just because you wrote
that article about her or...
- Your dog looks pretty thirsty. - Oh, no, she's fine.
Wow, that's pretty good.
You're the only reporter who's made it into the room.
What? No...
Miles, let's give the police department a call, OK?
- Or I could deal with him. - No, look... You're right.
But I'm not a tabloid reporter. I work for the LA Weekly.
My name is Farber Kauffman. I'm a freelancer. OK?
I just graduated from Columbia Journalism four months ago. Please.
Why would the pretentious snobs who read the Weekly
- care what goes on at a tabloid? - I pitched it as this kind of
cultural endgame story. Tabloid culture killed Julia Mallory,
but not before she tried to kill the tabloid queen.
- You know, that sort of thing. - First of all, yawn.
And the murder attempt. It seemed personal, almost sexual.
Why did she go to your house, get inside and stab you repeatedly?
I mean, that's the kind of violent action
that one takes against their intimate.
That's interesting, if it were true.
But crazy people imagine they know you better than they do.
Kauffman. You're the one who wrote the piece on the Russian Mafia last month.
That was good.
What do you say I triple whatever you're making and put you on staff?
You want me to dig through Lindsay Lohan's garbage for a living?
Come on, give it a shot. If you don't like it, walk away.
Or Miles could give you a lift to booking.
You're getting so big, buddy.
There's hardly room for both of us in the bed anymore.
Is there?
You know what "normal" means, Don?
It means your cat doesn't talk to you.
Well, I guess your right, but what happens...?
Goodbye, Don.
Goodbye, buddy.
- Wow. You just get bigger. - I feel like shit.
Did you give Barrow the changes?
- Yeah. - Can I have your pudding?
No, honey, I love the pudding. You can have the apple sauce.
- OK. - Let me see the sales numbers.
All right, I told Barrow he should bring these over himself.
No one wanted to tell you.
- What's Icon? - We probably should have lied.
- What is Icon Magazine? - You need to rest, Lucy.
No! What the hell is Icon Magazine?
- Is that the cover? - Yeah, I don't think that Barrow
- really incorporated your notes. - Please give it to me.
- He's kind of losing it. - Give it... God!
- Don! Don, give it to me! - No, no! Lucy, you shouldn't.
She shouldn't. I mean, you shouldn't be doing this,
shouldn't be trying to run a magazine out of a hospital bedroom!
You know, you almost died! And they said that I should be prepared for the worst!
You know, "She could die, your friend could die."
- Don... - Or slip into a permanent persistent
vegetative state, and then eventually you would have to pull the plug
because there's no point in going on when people...
Don!
Don... are you all right?
Let me have it.
It's OK.
- I'm OK. - I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
- You can have my pudding. - Thanks.
Thank you.
You're kidding, right? You've got to be kidding me!
Oh, Christ! My freaking water broke.
Great. Wipe it up with that.
I just don't know what they were thinking.
Miss Spiller. Miss Spiller, first of all, you should be in a wheel chair.
Yeah, you should be in this hospital for at least another week.
Miss Spiller, this is not just hospital rules.
If you walk out of here, you could risk infection...
If I can survive whatever's lurking in Don's car, I can survive anything.
Hi.
Hello, everyone. Vacation's over.
Hey, Brent.
- Spiller. You're... - Alive.
Well, yeah. I thought you were out for another couple of weeks.
- Are you back for good? - Looks like it.
Oh, thank God.
I humbly relinquish my throne.
I just... I would like to say, everybody,
this has been the most humbling experience of my life.
- Me, too. - Really?
More than that whole underage sex thing?
- Well...
- Yeah. - We'll save the tears
and the group hugs for later. Right now we have a magazine to rescue.
Oh, and this is Farber Kauffman. He's a staff reporter
who will be gunning for all of your jobs.
- Hey. - I mean, really?
That's what you came up with? After my notes?
And after the last two Julia Mallory covers tanked?
- Well, they didn't tank... - No?
- They got beat. - Yeah, here, here.
Let me see it.
Well, they just ripped off our design and did a better cover.
I mean, look at it. It's great.
They found a publicity shot of Julia Mallory holding a knife.
Where the hell was my photo department?
Wow, this is pathetic. This story just dropped in our laps.
In my gut! And this is the best...
...the best you can do?
We need to move on. Is that clear?
We need to find a new story where we define the curve.
Hello? Is this thing on?
Willa?
Oh, God, well...
...we could do a Julia Mallory cover
with... with... a reenactment.
You know, we could do it with photos...
It's so much worse than I thought.
Spiller.
- Lucy, should I just be following you? - That one's yours.
- Excuse me, that is my desk! - I know.
Oh, well, this is bullshit,
bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.
Has Martina Linn had her baby yet?
No, she's still in the hospital on bed rest.
Why is she on bed rest? To try to keep her away from the Mai Tais?
It's true, God does write the best soap operas.
- Farber, do you know this story? - Yeah, a little.
Catch him up.
Alrighty then.
Chapter One: cheap gold-digger, Martina Linn,
stripper/model, marries 68-year-old Ukrainian oil tycoon.
- He gets poisoned by the Russian mob. - The prince dies, the princess cries
- and she inherits a lot of money. - Right, exactly. So, Chapter Two:
His mob buddies say that it's their money.
So she hires Keith Straub, sleazy lawyer guy,
who says that he can get the money back from the Russians
- without getting her killed. - And let me guess. They fall in love.
Yeah. He's having a kid with her so that he can make sure
- that he's tied to her 300 mil. - So everyone's gonna cover this
as "gold-digger makes good." But she is more than that.
When the nuclear blast hits, it's just gonna be her and the cockroaches.
- So chapter three is the baby? - Now, when this baby drops,
we better own this story.
And have my office painted. I've seen enough red.
Willa, do you have anything yet?
- Since three minutes ago? - All right, go talk to her.
She never met a reporter she didn't like.
- Lucy. - What?
- I just wanted to tell you something. - What?
When I first started working here, I thought that I could do your job
if I could just... sort of be you.
You know, but when you were in the hospital,
I had a chance to take on as much of the responsibility for this magazine
- as I ever dreamed and... - And what?
Well, I just... I couldn't do it.
I mean, I can dress like you, I can act like you,
but it's gonna take a long time before I can run a magazine like you.
That's sweet.
Did you rehearse that?
Yeah.
- Hey, Don. - Hey, Lucy.
- Are you done yet? - I'm still here in Dr. Shalba's office.
- OK, I'll be right there. - No, no, no.
- You don't have to, I'm OK. - Don, I'm on my way.
- I'm good. - All right, bye.
Bye.
Oh, Willa?
- Hi. Keith Straub. - Hi.
How are you? Good to see you. This is Chad.
- I'm the son that doesn't matter. - OK. Kids...
- Yeah. - And this, of course,
- is the stunning Martina Linn. - Shut up, Keith. I look like a whale.
I can't wait for my C-section.
It's so nice to meet you all.
Thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me.
Lucy wanted to be here in person,
but she's just out of the hospital herself, so...
No problem, sweetie. We're just thrilled that you're interested
- in the baby pictures. - All the magazines are interested,
- but... the more the merrier. - Well, Lucy wants to do a cover,
a whole issue, really, about how love triumphs over tragedy and adversity.
- That's sweet. - Yeah.
Are there any wedding bells in your future?
No, no, no. I've been married twice before
and both times it was a disaster.
I love Keith way too much to put that curse on him.
This baby is our bond of love. You can quote us on that.
Do you know that he got me my inheritance
without me ending up in the Dumpster?
- Wow. - He is my savior and my true love.
That's another good quote. Speaking of the story,
let's get back to the baby pictures. So we're at 750
- for the exclusive set right now. - Wow. That's pretty high.
- No shit. - Chaddie, would you go get me a soda?
Yes, Mama. Right away, Mama. Anything for you, Mama.
It was really nice to meet you, Chad.
Yeah. You, too. Yeah.
- Hi, Don. - Hi, Dr. Shalba.
How are you feeling today, Don?
- Weird. - "Weird" how?
Well, I... I say "weird" because I'm starting to feel normal.
And I haven't felt normal for a long time.
It feels weird.
Well, we'll keep an eye on those feelings of normalcy.
- They can be pretty scary. - Yeah.
Schizophrenia serves a purpose for people who suffer from it.
The hallucinations, the flights of psychosis actually help
lessen the pain and intensity of everyday experience.
- Do you follow? - I do.
But I think it's great that we're trying this.
OK.
I'm gonna give you the shot now, all right?
And we'll make sure your "normal" doesn't get too weird.
- Dr. Shalba? - Yes, Don?
Those African masks,
they never really spoke, did they?
No, Don. They never spoke.
I'll see you in a couple of weeks, OK?
Wow.
Hey, come here!
You ungrateful bitch!
- Holy shit. - This is the thanks that I get?
Don, is that Sharlee Cates? Sharlee Cates!
- Oh, yeah. - Get your camera out.
- OK. - Hurry!
- OK! I'm hurrying. - Get the shot. What is on her face?
- What is she actually doing? - No. No, no good.
- No good? - I'm sorry.
- Sharlee Cates would be a great get. - Please, Lucy, Lucy...
No, Lucy, please...
Get it, Don!
What are you doing?!
I'm gonna kill you! Freaking move!
Get away! Move!
You freaking paparazzi piece of shit! I'll hit you! Move!
Piece of shit!
You're crazy.
Oh, shit. I popped a staple.
- No... - It's OK. That was great.
I'm going to say another week of bed rest at the very minimum.
- All right. - Doctor, Karla is freaking
in Radiology. You need to get up there.
- Why? What is Karla's problem? - All I know is that she is shouting
- your name like she was on fire. - You want finish dressing this?
You're the magazine lady, Lucy Spiller?
- I am. - You guys buy stories, right?
- Depends. - Well, nobody's got this one.
Martina Linn's son, Chad, is in the hospital.
- How am I doing? - Don, you got cash?
- Underpants. - Go on.
My friend at St. Edmunds said it was a massive overdose.
- Dead? - Coma.
She's a tragedy magnet, that one.
Chapter Three.
It's Chad Linn. Tell Lucy Spiller I got the real story for her.
About the old man, murder, sex, betrayal, everything.
But I want to get paid good. Hit me back, blondie.
When did this come in?
About an hour before they said he OD'd.
- I thought he was clean. - Yeah, apparently not so much.
What is this "real story" he's talking about?
Do I need to call this in to the LAPD?
So they can screw it up? No.
Don's on the hospital, let's see what happens.
All right, I gave the floor nurse 500 bucks so that she'd keep everybody out
- while I talked to Martina. - Go give her a grand.
- What for? - Because we need her.
- Tell her it's a down payment. - All right.
Bob Woodward, see what you can find out about Sharlee Cates and this broad.
- These are great. - Thank you.
I got the pictures of the kid in the coma.
And I got a copy of his medical chart.
It said he OD'd on methadone.
Methadone?
What addict accidently overdoses on methadone?
They're calling it a suicide.
Something's not right.
You don't call wanting a payday when you're planning to kill yourself.
- Easy. - OK.
Wow.
I guess somebody, you know, knew he would talk
and messed with his dosage.
Looks like we've got Chapter Four.
That's great, Don. You feeling good?
No, but I'm feeling normal.
Willa, hi. Wake up.
I need you to get every bit of audio you can find on Chad Linn.
Get our web guy to help you out.
OK, I need it by tomorrow. Thanks.
You need to rest.
- Getting it done? - Oh, yeah.
Yeah, we're getting there. Slowly.
Young Chad wasn't the most articulate guy in town.
- Neither is the mom. - Oh, she had her baby.
- Really? - Yeah. Eight pounds, 11 ounces.
Baby Lindee. C-section.
Well, if it takes after the mom, four of the eight pounds are tits.
Is she photo friendly?
- Yeah, total Gerber baby, apparently. - Oh, great.
All right, tell photo to go up to 850.
McPherson, I want you to pay that nurse another five grand.
Get something from the baby. I want a diaper, a hair, an ear.
- Take it to Gateway Labs. - OK. Oh, Lucy, there's a guy...
Hello. Hi. Ms. Spiller. It's great to meet you.
I was sent over by Media Helpers.
I think Claudia at HR spoke to you about the assistant job.
- Yeah, yeah. - Yes.
- Let me have your resume. - OK. Here you go.
OK.
- Good, you went to college. - Yes.
You're a big guy. I like that. It makes me feel safe.
Oh, great. That's great.
Yeah, listen, I'm sorry to hear about your recent troubles.
If there's anything that I can do to make things easier around here...
- You know I'm a crazy bitch, right? - Yes, I have heard that you can be...
It can be a bit of a challenge, but I'm certainly ready
- to meet that challenge and... - That's fantastic.
- Here, you can start right now. - Fantastic! Yes, great, thank you.
I wasn't really planning, but yes.
Wait, your name is Kenny?
- Yes, is that a problem? - Well, it was for the last guy.
- What happened to the last guy? - He got shot in the head.
OK.
- Harsh. - What?
Harsh. I know. I know. Harsh.
- What are you doing? - I'm going to leave.
I just need a second. I just need a second. Harsh.
I know. I know. I know. Harsh.
OK.
OK. I'm good.
I'm sorry, I just... I have this condition,
and I don't want to bore you with it, but this is the only thing that helps.
It's self-soothing. Otherwise I faint.
So I'm going to go. Thank you so much for your time.
I think you should stay. This could be fun.
Oh, excellent.
Yes, yes, I think that it could be fun, and really when you think about it...
- You've got to minimize the chatter. - Right. I'm sorry, I get nervous.
That's... OK. Thank you.
OK. Watch out for anthrax.
Harsh.
Oh, Lucy.
So the lady Sharlee Cates was chasing was the mother of her assistant,
Joanne Wentzel. Ex-assistant, rather.
Sharlee was chasing her ex-assistant's mother?
- Apparently. - Well, it's a dazzling story. Why?
Well, the mother, Joanne, works at a dermatologist's office. Bad Botox?
Sharlee Cates is 22, genius.
So I looked up your information,
which we're not supposed to do unless we're running a check for employers,
but I do it all the time. New girlfriends, landlords, whatever.
Plus, this thing kicks ass over Google, so...
Had a bit of a gambling problem in college? Yeah, it's a bummer.
Uneven employment history and you work for Dirt Now, now.
It always terrifies me how much information
- potential employers have access to. - No, I know. It's crazy.
Hey, how's it going, Emily?
Yeah, I like how the piping is fitting with the... the slacks.
Is that a... It's a choice.
Five DUIs, two kids, bikes to work. It's a sad story.
- I don't know how she does it. - Did you find anything out
- about Heather Wentzel, the assistant? - Why?
Is this some kind of big Sharlee Cates scandal coming down?
- All depends on you now, Lars. - Then you're shit out of luck.
Heather Wentzel's boring. No arrests.
And the Sharlee Cates gig was her first assistant job. So...
- What about the mom? - Joanne Wentzel.
Yeah. She almost got fired because her employer, Alpha Pharmaceuticals,
accused her of stealing quantities of prescription drugs to sell
to her clients. Turns out they couldn't prove anything
because the file was closed, but it wasn't closed to us
because the mighty corporation sees all.
I'm starting to see how this comes together. It's cool. Reporting.
- So am I going to be in Dirt Now? - Well, wouldn't you get fired?
Yeah, I guess. Can I be an anonymous source?
No problem.
Hey. The mother, Joanne Wentzel, was Sharlee's dealer.
OK, got her daughter Heather hired as Sharlee's assistant.
But when Joanne gets busted and stops getting Vicodin and Oxy for Sharlee,
Sharlee freaked. OK, I'm basically two calls away from having it locked up
- and double-sourced. - Wow. Not bad, Woodward.
I know, right?
So Sharlee Cates is a drug user? Could be.
But no, no, no. For sure. OK, I confirmed with Heather,
the assistant she fired, and I got the secondary source.
- It's going to pass Legal for sure. - All right, well, it's interesting.
- I'll definitely consider it, thanks. - That's it?
Your writing could use some work.
Willa, give it a pass? Dirt it up a little?
You mean dumb it down?
OK, let's see.
"She's the apotheosis of bubble-gum pop."
You're kidding, right? Any word on Chad Linn?
No, still coma-boy, but I did get a tape for you.
- Did your nurse come through? - I got a hair.
Great. I want a lab report as soon as possible. I don't care what it costs.
Chad wants to sell us the story. He says you tried to kill him.
- Chaddie's awake? - I'm going to make you a deal.
I'll tell your story. You can use the pages of Dirt to sway the jury.
It's bullshit. I just saw him this morning.
Ted Williams' head has a better chance of waking up. Sorry, baby.
Well, he was up enough to ask the nurse to switch him to a more secure room.
- You can ask the ICU. - You're full of shit.
Let's see.
Lucy, it's Chad Linn. I got a real story, but I want to get paid.
Martina tried to make me die just like she poisoned the old man.
What'd you do? Load his Diet Coke with methadone?
Don't say anything.
I don't know why you keep sticking up for her. She screwed you, too.
OK, I think it's time you get the hell out of here.
Fine. But if it were me and my baby girl was another man's, I'd want to know.
What? That's bullshit. Go.
Here you go. This is baby Lindee's DNA.
There's a match to a very large Russian family, the Romanovs.
Isn't that the name of your late husband?
Keith, you're not the father.
She's not going to marry you. You're not going to get a dime.
Keith, honey, honestly I would never...
Don't. Don't. Don't. Do not bullshit me.
So when were you going to get around to killing me?
That's so mean. Why would you say something so hurtful?
Spare me the theatrics, OK? This isn't one of your soft-porn movies.
You poisoned your husband, you poisoned your child, it just stands to reason
that I'm next. You can't let me live, can you? I know where the bodies are.
Keith, honey, really it's just our word against hers. It don't mean nothing.
What about me, Martina? What do I get?
Just anything you want. Just draw up the papers. I'll sign it.
I love you. Now, you still love me?
What are you going to do?
I'm going to give away half my money as soon as he gets bored,
- like they all eventually do. - If you say so.
- You've got no story here, you know. - Really?
- How so? - Well, he's not going to talk
because he'd implicate himself.
And even if Chaddie does come out of his coma,
well, he's a career addict.
Breaks my heart. With a criminal history?
He's not a very reliable witness.
Yeah, well, I'm not a DA.
I'm a reporter, and I'm pretty certain
that I can report your confession in this interview.
Yeah, well, knock yourself out.
Really. Because I didn't say any of that.
You know, Phil Spector,
he killed that woman.
Shot her dead, confessed at the crime scene and what happened to him?
And I have more money than him and Robert Blake and O.J. combined.
- Miss Spiller, Sharlee Cates is here. - Move, ass-wipe.
Harsh.
I have a kid and a marriage, you know. I will sue.
It all went through Legal. They're pretty confident.
- But I'm not gonna run it. - What?
I want you to meet someone.
- This is Don Konkey. - Hi, Sharlee.
- That sounds like Donkey Kong. - Yeah, it's almost an anagram.
Don Konkey. Donkey Kong. Except there's no "G" in Don Konkey.
Don's going to be your personal photographer.
He'll need unfettered access.
Oh, that means "lots."
- I really liked Love Me Monday. - Thank you.
I mean, why have one sad, career-destroying cover
when we can have 20 happy, productive ones?
I knew Julia Mallory.
Not like best friends, but I knew her.
Doesn't it make you nervous...
...to mess around with people's lives like this?
Given everything that's happened?
No.
Well...
My fans don't want to see me as a druggie. So...
Give me a call, Donkey Kong.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Yeah, that'll be good.
That's a $12,000 rug. I hope she's worth it.
- Don't sweat it, dude. - Thank you, dude.
You get that that story was just a prop
for Lucy to use with Sharlee? And with you.
It still doesn't excuse some of your larger sins of metaphor and syntax
- in this piece. - Oh, goody.
Journalism class. Go ahead.
"Last May at the Coliseum, Sharlee Cates literally ripped the hearts
out of the audience with her rendition of 'Hey, Jude'."
Help me out here, Willa, what did she do, exactly?
Did she descend into the crowd while singing
and start tearing out their still-beating hearts
like some kind of Mayan priest at a ritual sacrifice?
I mean, I'm assuming you were a journalism major,
or at least an English major.
Jesus Christ, what do you do? Just come to work here
and throw out every trace of education and ethics you ever acquired?
You wouldn't happen to be talking about yourself
just a... just a little bit, would you?
Whatever.
He died a year ago on the night of a Blood Moon.
Also known as a Sanguine Moon.
That's tonight. A year ago.
- I remember. - Tristan was special.
There was no way he was going to a pet cemetery.
Ramon, the caretaker here, he understands that.
And I give him a hundred a month on the side.
I didn't like the way you drove when we were chasing Sharlee.
I'm sorry.
Part of my being normal...
...is risk aversion. I'm developing my risk aversion.
I'm developing my risk.
Yeah, fear is an essential survival tool.
Yeah, but fear can also do you in.
I'm over it.
What happened to you, Lucy?
I was in a coma,
and for a minute, I crossed over.
It was so nice.
Why'd you come back?
I don't know.
We'll see.
Don't drive like that when I'm in the car. OK?
OK.
What happened to you?
Since I've been sick,
it's been like looking in one of those old funhouse mirrors.
And then one day I turned around,
and I see the whole, real world.
And my cat stopped talking to me.
My walls stopped breathing.
And instead of seeing the moon in my mind, I'm really here.
I am, right?
We both are.
Pretty, huh?