groups.
- Ooh. -
Ooh. - Ooh.
- Ooh, I feel the same way.
- Ooh, ooh.
Will you please kiss
me hard on the lips?
That was tender, but tasty.
- Bite my face.
- Okay.
Bite my leg. Now bite my other leg.
- You get her two 1 X legs and...
- Going over the fence gymnastics?
Oh, oh, I'm sorry.
Oh, my. That kind of evening, huh?
Not the kind you're used
to. No money changed hands.
No, no, no, no. Reveal, reveal.
You have killed your father.
You have married your mother.
Na, no words, remember.
Na, reveal.
Here we have a sick sea lion. Go.
- Miss Brozinsky.
- Okay.
You will now perform for
us, also without words...
Hamlet's soliloquy.
Who's that?
Hamlet.
Hamlet.
Shakespeare's tragedy of Hamlet.
Ah, well.
Uh, for her, we get the comic book, huh?
Taxi!
Hey!
Hey!
Oh. Ooh, that creep
Korzenowski is driving me nuts.
Ooh.
I know what I need.
Oh, God!
Oh, God!
Oh, God! Oh, God!
Oh, God!
Oh, God! Oh, God!
Ooh.
To die on the stage...
is perhaps the greatest
single challenge...
an actor can face.
The audience must know,
must absolutely believe...
that the breath, that the very life...
is going out of your body.
Now...
You! You will die now, please.
No, no, I don't believe you.
Maintain your focus.
Na, I don't believe you.
- Maintain your focus and lean forward.
- Stop, stop, stop. Stop it. Stop it.
- Are you all right?
- Fine.
Perhaps you would like to
die for us now, Miss Ames.
You, I think, I will shoot.
You will feel the
bullet enter your body.
You will lose all muscle control.
You will fall down dead.
Bang.
This can only be the achievement...
of years of training.
No other way would we ever
see so false a performance.
So mechanical, so thought-out.
Never for one moment truly felt.
Here, you must reach
deep inside yourself.
You must go beyond the
safety of what you know.
We know you can act, Camille...
but can you be a person
of flesh and blood?
Ah, time.
We die again tomorrow.
And, uh, please, give me your notebooks.
I wish to see them.
You can't walk there!
Hey, Ed, you want the delivery or not?
The man is a Nazi.
I have never been the
dumbest in any class before.
I haven't seen you for nine hours.
Taxi!
Taxi!
Mmm.
- You know what today is?
- No.
It's our third-week anniversary.
- Stop on the next corner.
- You got it.
- I think you need some roses.
- Oh, no, no, you can't afford any more flowers.
- Right here.
- No, don't stop.
- Half... Half a dozen.
- No, don't stop. I know what teachers make.
Don't stop.
Michael!
A crowd is gathered here. Traffic
is backed up for two blocks.
Killed in the explosion are Lee
Veran, the owner of the flower shop...
and Michael Santers, a teacher
at Holmes Elementary School.
Two terrorist groups have claimed
responsibility for the blast.
It's all right, Miss Ames. We've
got a positive ID from his wallet.
You don't have to see him.
I want to see him.
I warn you, there's
very little left to see.
Particularly in the,
uh, upper body region.
I wanna see him.
I'm very sorry you
feel a need to do this.
Just leave me alone with him, please.
What are you doing here?
- Me? What the fuck are you doing here?
- I beg your pardon.
- I am in mourning.
- Well, so am I!
- For my lover.
- Well, so am I!
- Who?
- Michael Santers.
- No, no, you little witch! No!
- You bitch, you didn't know him!
- Oh, he loved me.
- How could you lie, little bitch?
- Oh, get away from me! Oh!
- Get out of here right now!
- I'm gonna bitch-slap you! I'm gonna break
every bone in your body! - Oh, you are?
- Oh, you are?
- Yes, I am!
How dare you! How dare you!
- Oh. Ooh.
- He loved me.
He loved me!
Loved you? Loved you?
- Damn right he did!
- Ha, that's obscene.
No, that's reality, baby, 'cause no
way did that guy give a shit about you!
I refuse to believe for one
second that he would lower himself.
Oh, he lowered himself, all right.
This is all a lie. You are
psychotic. Yes, that's