What's the matter,
you don't get it, Hobson?
Well, of course,
the crematorium fried your brain.
I keep forgetting you don't have
a sense of humor anymore.
-Come on, fellow. Let's move along.
-All right.
God, I've missed you, Hobson.
-I've never been far.
-Yeah. I've felt that.
I've had my eye on you, Arthur.
You cannot imagine how proud I've been...
watching you rooting through
garbage cans...
searching out discarded McNugget boxes.
-You saw that.
-Yes.
If projectile vomiting
ever becomes an Olympic event...
you'll do your country proud.
I'm trying, you know.
Yesterday I sold some blood at a hospital.
Hospital?
I should have thought a local distillery
would have paid you much more.
How have I gotten along
without you, Hobson?
-Obviously not very well.
-I wouldn't say that, Hobson.
I love the circus.
Remember you used to bring me here
every year, Hobson?
I used to try and run up to all the clowns
and squeeze their noses.
After the age of 30,
it becomes a bit embarrassing.
Really? Did I embarrass you, Hobson?
Only every waking moment.
Why do women wear so much makeup?
I find it so unappealing.
What do you think, Hobson?
I think I've come just in time.
Get out and stay out!
I better not catch you here again.
-Isn't this where Miss Johnson lives?
-That's right.
-So you're giving up.
-Absolutely.
Absolutely. I'm giving up.
I'm cutting my losses. I'm quitting.
Of course you are.
Why break with tradition?
May I help you?
Yeah. Yes.
Is Susan Johnson in?
I've come to marry the bitch.
Is Miss Johnson a friend of yours?
That's a most perceptive question.
Cuts right to the heart of the matter,
doesn't it, Arthur?
Yeah.
You're right. She's no friend of mine.
What am I doing here?
She isn't even a friend of mine,
and I'm thinking of marrying her?
God. Thank you.
Thank you both. You two were terrific.
Honestly, this was better
than 20 years in therapy.
Thank you so much.
You ought to have your own TV show...
or at the very least
not have to wear that hat.
Come on, Hobson. God, I nearly....
Can you believe that?
I almost went in there
and asked her to marry me.
Arthur. Wake up, Arthur.
Plenty of time to sleep later.
What a delightful place.
How nice of them to let you in
without a reservation.
Kicking the bucket
hasn't changed you a bit, has it?
You! Could you keep it down?
If you don't mind, I'm talking
to my butler whom I haven't seen...
since he passed away five years ago.
Yeah, I'm playing blackjack
with Uncle Rudy who died in 1956.
But at least he has the decency
to keep quiet.
Okay, Uncle Rudy, hit me.
What does that tell you?
Hit me!
-Maybe we should go somewhere else.
-Yes.
If possible, somewhere upwind.
-God. Look at me, Hobson.
-No, thank you.
You can get us out, right?
I'm not on salary anymore, Arthur.
You're on your own.
The fact is, I've got to leave you shortly.
They only gave me a half day.
No, Hobson! No, you can't.
You're all I've got. I've lost Linda...
I've lost all the money.
I'm a drowning man, Hobson.
I wish I were dead. No offense.
None taken.
You spoiled little shit.
You thought your life
was going to be one big party, didn't you?
Now you know. Parties don't last forever.
I don't want you to end up here, Arthur...
sleeping alone,
playing blackjack with Uncle Rudy.
I can't bear that.
I've told you before
you can do anything with your life...
that you want to.
Stop your drinking, Arthur.
Why should I bother?
Give me one good reason.
I've seen your son.
-You've seen....
-He's a splendid boy, wonderful.
Bright blue eyes.
He smiles all the time.
I like him, Arthur. You will, too.
Old man, you're not playing fair.
I've told him all about you, Arthur...
but he wants to meet you all the same.
It's up to you, Arthur.
It always has been.
-Blackjack.
-What?
I said, ''blackjack.''
Come on, Martha, shake and move!
Move it!
Shake those buns! Shake those bones!
Move it! Get the