lousy.
Tryin' to let me down easy,
aren't ya? Listen to this.
I know what I wrote, Howard. I
was there when I wrote it. Mm-hmm.
"And the mountain rises higher,
and yet higher, thrusting upward,
"straining ever upward, burgeoning its
power from the very loins of the earth,
"its peak piercing at last
the center of the sun,
until its golden, molten,
melting light explodes in a-,'
Am I right in thinking there's
something you're trying to tell us here?
"The undulating hillocks, round
and smooth and full and fertile,
sloping globes curving
gently, deeply down to the-,'
I mean, where do you suggest we print it
- Penthouse?
I was doing you a favor.
Thanks.
ust to show you how grateful I am, I
promise you nobody will ever read this.
You'd be laughed
out of chicago.
- come on.
- Where we going?
To get drunk.
Oh, I like new ideas.
You take my liquor,
but you won't take my advice.
Your advice sobers me up.
Ahh.
Where are you going?
This is the paper
you used to write for.
Every time I turn my back, they
got the state senate in the lead.
Who gives a shit
about the state senate?
"Who Gives A Shit
About The State Senate?"
Holy cow.
I don't believe it.
What's wrong?
I want some answers!
Nobody has any answers?
I want to know how a thing like
this disappears from my off ce.
I found it on your desk.
You found it on my desk?
You print six pages of crap because
you see something laying on my desk?
Well, I hope to hell I don't leave my tax
returns laying on my desk one day by mistake!
The byline
was Ernie Souchak.
Look, you moron,
don't give me excuses!
If it's Souchak,
you always run it.
You hear what
i just told him?
You know what would happen to me
if I did what you morons did, huh?
i, d be back selling
brassieres on Maxwell street.
Phew.
Thank you. Thank you for your support.
You know what I think?
I bet you're gonna tell
me. You just told me.
Keep this up,
you'll end up buried...
along with
"chicago Grandmother Graduates,"
"Park Statue
To Get Face-lift,"
"city Hall clerk's Fire Escape Death," "Weather Forecast
What was that?
The weather forecast?
The f
re escape.
"Mr. Kermit Hellinger, 31,
"fell to his death early
today from a f re escape...
"at the back of a disused
warehouse on Murphy Street.
Mr. Hellinger, a contracts clerk at city Hall, leaves a wife and one
Ambassador Restaurant.
You, re a naughty, naughty man.
Well, if it isn, t
our intrepid explorer.
That's all right, Mike. Where's
your next assignment? Outer space?
I know what really happened
on Murphy Street.
And if I know, you can bet
your spotty, fat ass...
that pretty soon
chicago will.
I don't know
what you're talkin' about.
What are you showering in
these days, Jack Daniel's?
The last place he'd go is up a f re escape.
Which is exactly why it was
his last. Right, Alderman?
Get this drunk outta here!
Enjoy your dessert, punk!
Let go of me! Your ass
is mine! Let go of me!
Everybody
say "cheese."
You got it.
Well, yes
- Yes. I can give you names and places and dates.
Up there? No?
In the alley?
This is it.
This is the one.
Holy cow.
i don, t believe it.
All right!
Why didn't you
wait for me?
I thought you deserved
a solo entrance.
We did all right, Howard,
didn't we? Terrif c.
Then why aren't you
smiling?
What?
Didn't you read
the front page?
The question is, did you? Huh?
I just want to establish you
are really over her, that's all.
esus, Howard, you're
almost a man of the world.
You know how
these things happen.
The air was thin.
She was average cute.
There was no other broad
around, and the air was thin.
Well, I have a newspaper to run. So?
So I don't want you
turning into cream pie again.
Howard, if Nell Porter were to take one of
her eagles for a stroll down Michigan Avenue...
and I happened
to bump into them,
I'd say hi, I might kiss them on the beak.
And then
I'd wave good-bye.
That's how over her
I am.
Then you're not