Mmm.
You're Becky Driscoll.
Hey, Santa Mira's looking up.
Has ever since you got back.
Is this an example
of your bedside manner, Doctor?
No, ma'am.
That comes later.
Good evening, Doctor.
What happened
to the crowd tonight?
I don't know.
It's been this way for weeks.
At least we don't
have to wait for a table.
Take your pick.
Here or here.
Here, I think.
Shall we?
Mm-hmm.
Where's the band?
Business slumped,
so I had to let them go.
There's the jukebox, though.
Shall we dance?
I hope you didn't
let the bartender go.
I'm the bartender.
Martinis?
Two. Dry.
Very dry.
Miles, I don't care
what Dr. Kauffman says.
I'm worried.
You are in the capable hands...
of your personal physician.
Oh, Doctor.
Ah, there's our evening.
Sorry.
Thanks.
Dr. Bennell.
Jack Belicec wants you
to come to his house right away.
He says it's urgent.
Thank you.
Better hold those drinks.
Emergency.
At least they called
before we ordered dinner.
How hungry are you?
I can wait.
It may be a while.
I'll go with you.
Sorry.
We'll be back later.
There's Jack.
What's the matter?
Teddy sick?
No.
Thank heaven.
I thought you'd never arrive.
Then who is sick?
Nobody.
Then why'd you
drag me away from my dinner?
You won't believe it
until you see it.
Hello, Becky.
- Hello, Becky.
- Hi, Teddy.
Could you forget
you're a doctor a while?
Why?
I don't want you
calling the police.
Quit acting like a writer.
Maybe you can tell me.
You're the doctor.
Miles, put the light on
over the pool table.
Go on. Pull it down.
What do you make of it?
Who is he?
I have no idea.
Its face, Miles.
It's vague.
Like the first impression
that's stamped on a coin.
It isn't finished.
You're right.
All the features
but no details...
no character, no lines.
It's no dead man.
Have you got
an ink pad around the house?
There's one in the desk.
Why?
I want to take
the corpse's fingerprints.
Of course
it's a dead man.
I don't know,
but I've got a feeling that...
I know this sounds crazy,
but if I should do an autopsy...
I think I'd find every organ
in perfect condition...
as perfect
as the body is externally...
everything in working order.
All set to go. Hold that down.
These are blank.
Waiting for the final
finished face...
to be stamped onto it.
But whose face?
Tell me that.
We could all use a drink.
Bourbon all right?
Fine.
Not for me, thanks.
Miles, answer me.
Whose face?
I haven't the slightest idea...
have you?
How tall would you say
that thing is?
Oh, 5'10", thereabouts.
How much does it weigh?
It's pretty thin.
Maybe 140 pounds.
Jack's 5'10"
and weighs 140 pounds.
Ow!
Teddy, will you stop
talking nonsense?
I'm sorry, darling,
but it isn't nonsense.
Becky, you don't think
it's nonsense, do you?
Of course it is.
Jack's standing here
in front of you.
Of course I am,
bleeding to death.
Excuse me.
You know what?
I'm afraid you may live.
Here, this should fix it.
Miles,
shouldn't we call the police...
and have them take
that dead body out of here?
I'm afraid
it isn't just a dead body.
Thanks.
I wonder if...
What?
I wonder
if there's any connection.
What do you mean?
There's something
strange afoot in Santa Mira.
Dr. Kauffman calls it
an epidemic of mass hysteria.
Becky's cousin's got it,
for one.
She thinks that her uncle
and her aunt...
aren't her uncle and her aunt.
There's several cases
of such delusion.
This isn't you yet...
but there is
a structural likeness.
It's fantastic.
There must be some reason
this is here.
Would you be willing
to sit up...
and see what your friend's
next move is?
If nothing happens by morning,
call the police.
If something happens...
call me, will you?
You know I will.
Good night.
Take it easy.
Sure.
Nothing will happen.
Good night, Becky.
If it does...
it'll make a charming,
bloodcurdling mystery story.
I was careful
not to let Becky know...
but I was really scared.
Dan Kauffman's