It's time to interview this guy.
Fuck him up.
Tsk tsk.
Do you know nothing of seduction?
I know the ways.
Are you rough, young Mills, the morning after?
I'm expedient.
Tsk tsk.
Why tsk tsk?
The morning after is no time for expediency.
You must make a woman feel
like the morning after is where
the deepest exchange of pleasure takes place.
Even though it's not true.
The morning after plays an important role...
in the ways.
It is the special time of
pet names and the simple enjoyment
of one another's company
meant to deceive a woman into the belief
that she gave herself to a tender and gentle man.
Who gives her total respect beyond simply sex.
This way, you can fuck her numerous times in the future.
I'm going to go fuck this guy.
Yes.
Ordinarily, when an assault victim withholds
the name of their assailant
they're trying to protect them.
Because it's someone they know.
Because they love them maybe.
In the mistaken belief that...
they're protecting their relationship.
But they're wrong.
You know, if this person harmed you...
then the relationship isn't worth protecting.
Yes, it is.
If you're really good friends.
If you're like best friends.
He's a friend?
You're saying?
I called this woman Leslie Claret.
I'll file a request for interview.
He's a man. This woman Leslie Claret. He's a man.
He's a guy with a girl's name?
Yeah.
I love it when you see that.
Because life's hard enough. You know?
I find it funny existentially.
We all have something about our bodies that we dislike, Nan.
Do we?
Of course.
For instance? In your case,
what do you happen to dislike about your body?
I have unusual ankles.
That doesn't count.
They give me great concern.
How often are people looking at your ankles?
My hair surrounds my face.
It's just genetics. You got Dad's hair.
My lustrous hair came from Mom.
Your hair came from a box.
Nan, you'd look attractive with extensions.
Have you given them some thought?
Yes, I thought about how I would look stupid in them.
Why the fuss about your hair today?
I'm being photographed for work.
What do you think, Dad?
Do you think Nan should buy some new hair?
I think Nan is attractive with her current hair.
Dad?
Yes.
Who's the best-looking, would you say?
Just wondering here.
I think you're each the best-looking
in your own special ways.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
What if spacemen would destroy the world
unless you shared your honest answer?
I would tell the spacemen that you're each
the best-looking in your own special ways.
Who's the most intelligent?
I think you're all the most intelligent...
in your own special ways.
Nan?
Yeah, Dad.
If spacemen threatened the world,
I would confess that you're the most intelligent.
Thanks, Dad.
Yet I hope that never happens
as I wouldn't want to hurt the others' feelings.
Probably not going to happen, Dad.
Nan, I didn't want the others to know about a matter...
Yeah?
...I need your help with something.
Of course.
We'll discuss it when you're finished with the wigs.
I'm finished.
One, two, three.
Thank you, Detective.
Cantar Walley arrives in 11 hours.
Begin your strenuous physical and mental preparations now.
Find your positions.
Action Boys, advance.
The janky plan begins today.
Today I start to make my way
to a French gun.
The Iranians,
they get forty 'cause he's a dignitary.
They get all the guns they can carry,
and there's almost no other way
to get a gun today
in France.
But say you are a Senegalese grocer
with a tidy little joint
in a rough neighborhood,
and you keep
getting your ass beat.
You're just stacking up the crackers
and some French fucker takes your cash register
and leaves you beat
down in a heap
in France.
If you're attacked in your place of business
and can demonstrate loss of property
and consciousness,
on the 13th attack,
oh man, you get strapped in France.
They keep all the names
of all the French gun owners
in this kind of cool French tower
under lock and key
so someone like me
doesn't wander in,
snag a random name,
find the guy and fuck him up for his gun.
Which is why I'm climbing up
to the very top.
No way it occurred to security
someone would jump from
the roof to the balcony
'cause it's forty feet.
And you would have to be
pretty fucking crazy or just educated
on how to cross the
Vantasner Meridian
so you would have the chance to land
and just be unconscious
for 17 minutes.
...and don't forget, I'm close to you. n.