evidence.
- All right?
- May I--?
An officer out of uniform, of course.
No, see, I could be murdered.
As I've already said,
Mr. Arctor has this cache of weapons.
Mr. Barris, we appreciate this
and the extreme risk you are taking.
And if it works out, and your information
is valuable in obtaining a conviction...
- ...then naturally--
- But that is not the reason I'm here.
You see, this man is--
He just has a soul sickness.
His brain is damaged from the use of
this toxic and most terrible substance.
Nonetheless, the reason I am here is
I feel that I may have certain qualities...
...that would qualify me
to perhaps come over to your side.
To surrender and come to
the side of law enforcement.
- I would like an employment application.
- We don't care why you're here.
We only care whether your evidence and
material amount to anything.
The rest is your problem.
Perhaps at the desk
I can get an employment...
You are about to witness...
...for approximately 61 cents of
ordinary household materials...
...the perfect homemade silencer.
Barris, the neighbors are gonna hear.
No, they only call in murders
in this neighborhood.
Plus, Freckledeck, it's a silencer.
They're not gonna hear anything.
Well, I'm pretty fucking sure
they're illegal.
In this day and age, the type of society
we find ourselves living in...
...every person of worth...
...needs to have a gun at all times,
to protect themselves.
And we're off.
That sure is some silencer.
Yes. What it did was augment the sound,
rather than dampen it.
But I almost have it.
I believe I have it in principle, anyway.
Oh, well, the good news is,
regardless of what you do next time...
...it'll be a silencer to us,
because we're now deaf!
What happened?
How'd I get here?
Okay, it's your move now.
Anyone want some popcorn?
- Yeah.
- Yeah.
Fuck!
The pain...
...so unexpected and undeserved...
...had, for some reason,
cleared away the cobwebs.
I realized I didn't hate the cabinet door.
I hated my life, my house, my family...
- Are you okay, Daddy?
- What happened?
...my backyard...
...my power mower.
Nothing would ever change.
Nothing new could ever be expected.
It had to end, and it did.
Now in the dark world where I dwell...
...ugly things and surprising things
and sometimes little wondrous things...
...spill out at me constantly...
...and I can count on nothing.
Medfly, got it.
- That would be a Thelma Kornford.
- Oh, yeah, Miss Big-Tits.
If I had known it was harmless...
- ...I would have killed it myself.
- I would have killed it myself.
Thanks for the mammaries.
She had such beautiful...
Daddy slowpoke.
- Oh, get around him, will you?
- You know what to do. Your move.
That's a big ten-four.
Got nothing on us.
- There we go.
- Get a life!
Okay, Bob, no rush.
- Not so fast.
- You are flying.
Decelerate.
Steady.
- Decelerate.
- Slow down.
- Jesus.
- Son of a bitch.
Come on. Decelerate!
Let us over.
It's an emergency.
We're getting over. Emergency.
- What the hell was that?
- Jesus fucking Christ.
What the hell in the hootenanny
was that?
The return spring
on the throttle cable, or...
Look, the gas.
Was it cut or broken?
Let's give her a look.
Oh, my...
It's not the spring. It's the linkage
from the pedal to the carb. See?
It fell apart, so the gas pedal didn't push
back out when you took your foot off...
- ...but doesn't explain why--
- There is a safety override on the carb.
- When the linkage parts, it's--
- Why'd it part?
Shouldn't this ring hold the cable in place?
I mean, how could it just come off like that?
Let's have a look. Let's probe a little.
All right. This screw has been turned
all the way out, the idle screw.
So when the linkage parted,
it went the other way. Up instead of down.
Wait. Now, how could that happen?
There is no way