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serious.
I'm payin' you a compliment.
- Yeah?
- Yeah.
Why?
Because it's as flattering a haircut
on you as it was on Dorothy.
Hamill.
Come on, you remember.
Innsbruck, winter of '76.
America's sweetheart.
I don't know who had it worse for her,
me or Jim McKay.
I'm happy if we're able to conjure up
a pleasant, if unfulfilled, fantasy.
Talk about a head of hair!
Do you skate?
Are you here for any particular reason?
Well, I was wondering if you wanted
to go to the powwow with me.
You're going?!
Yeah.
Why not? I admit, I don't ordinarily
march to the beat of a snare drum,
but it is Marilyn, and with Rick away,
you might want someone to chant with.
What's that supposed to mean?
That crack about Rick being away.
- What crack?
- Rick's got a little tumour.
- OK!
- Nothing more, nothing less.
I don't want you makin'
a bigger deal out of this than it is.
I just came in here to...
Thousands of people
get tumours every day.
People I've never laid eyes on
get tumours. Some die, some don't.
That's just the way it is with tumours.
- I know. I am a doctor, remember?
- All finished.
I am very comfortable with who I am and
what I may be putting out to the universe,
and Rick did not skip town
on some trumped-up trip to Fairbanks
just to get away from me, Fleischman.
Tumours happen!
- Look, O'Connell, I don't know what you...
- Keep it zipped, Fleischman, OK?
I tell you I set a new record? Eight
Double Fatburgers in an hour and a half?
So?
So, nobody puts on the feedbag
like Wayne Jones.
There are more important things
than Fatburgers.
I know. Hockey and sex. But there's still
enough room on this planet for small talk.
Remember this, Shelly?
- Remember what?
- Our song. They're playin' our song.
Oh. Oh, yeah.
3am, a boy and a girl
alone and in love on a pool table?
If this guy doesn't quit staring at you,
I'm gonna kick his butt in.
Would you please grow up?
I'm not your squeeze any more.
But you are my wife, and if he doesn't
quit starin', I'm gonna kick his butt in!
Come on, they're playin' our song.
You know, I've still got
our wedding picture, Shel.
Cindy didn't like it hangin' in the car,
so I put it up over the bar at Keller's Place.
Let's dance real close.
Holling?
Who's the kid?
Why's he smearin' ketchup
all over Shelly's ass?
Agh!
What the hell's the matter with you?
- Feel pain?
- No.
- Now?
- No.
- Agh!
- OK. OK.
I've seen this sort of neck lock before,
but they were stiffs on a slab
and I had a crowbar.
- Has this ever happened in the past?
- Once. A bear tried to unscrew my head.
I don't remember it bein' this painful.
I suggest you square things with Shelly
before you start pretzellin' up.
Joel, I may not be able to eat, sleep,
or turn to the right,
but Shelly is a married woman
and her husband is in town.
To get a divorce, which Shelly
not only agreed on, but wants.
They are dancin' cheek to cheek
as we speak.
Is that right? So they're doin' a turn
on the dance floor for old time's sake...
Look me in the eye,
tell me you don't love each other.
Wait, look. You broke up with Shelly
at a very vulnerable time in her life.
She is probably feeling very confused.
- What would you do, Joel?
- What would I do, what?
If the same circumstances presented
themselves to you and your fiancйe.
What would I do if Elaine's husband
showed up at our apartment door?
Uh...
That's...
it's an interesting question, Holling.
I'd be more than happy
to answer it, except that, uh...
we're not from Alaska. We're from
Flushing, which is in Queens, New York.
That sort of thing
just doesn't happen in New York.
Well, of course, it does.
It just doesn't.
What would I do if Elaine's husband
showed up at our apartment door?
Drop her.
- Says who?
- Says me.
Drop her.
- You can't have her. She's mine.
- I don't want her, you moron!
But Holling does.
He doesn't pack an iron any more.
Me and him... we're pals.
- Evenin', Shelly.
-
Северная сторона Северная сторона

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