- Here. Take my picture. - Why?
Happy thoughts. For my beautiful, young friend. I love you, sweetie.
- What are you doing? - Piggy-back ride.
Rube said we can't go where they're going.
Open door's an invitation. Gotta jump while the door's open!
Why do I keep losing all the things and people that I care about?
Reapers come and go. That's life.
It's Daisy. Daisy Adair.
- Daisy's a reaper. - I'll call you Georgia.
I hated her instantly.
I hated her a little less.
I died during the making of Gone With The Wind. I am an actress.
- You miss your sister? - I was told there would be cookies.
You pick when I'm stressed to get into this shit.
- Reggie's principal called. - She's been cutting school?
- Seems so. - Where the hell's she going?
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I remember learning that the average human head weighs 20 Ibs.
I know a lot of that is skull and flesh and hair, if you've got hair,
but that still leaves a couple of pounds of pure grey matter.
And that means tons of tiny neurons firing away,
sending little messages to each other like, "I love to do the salsa"...
.. or testing other neurons with questions like,
"Why am I only having sex with myself?"
And while we work hard making our brains work for us,
a little war is quietly under way.
Half of those brains cells are telling the other half to chill.
Too many firings at once and we'd be having seizures day and night.
I wasn't about to take that risk.
This is Fiona. She's going to be joining us part-time.
Helping us get a handle on that mess in data input.
- Welcome aboard, Fiona. - Thanks.
I was hoping you could be Fiona's mentor.
Get her up to speed.
- Mentor? - Mentor.
Mentor. A promotion without a pay raise.
Basically, all you do is peel off these edges
so that they fit neatly in the box.
And once you've filled the boxes,
they are to be filed away and never to be seen again.
Unless people start to eat paper.
No one's ever gonna look at these?
They don't even bother to label the boxes.
At 12.30 you have a 35-minute lunch hour... Don't even ask.
- Does anyone ever come in here? - Not a lot. Why?
- Just feels like a good place to do stuff. - OK. Like what?
Stuff I like to do.
- Do you have any tattoos? - No. Do you?
Oh, yeah. Yeah.
- What are they? - Flowers. All flowers.
Fiona, I really don't need to see the flowers just this second.
Cool.
I'm gonna be in this storage room all the fucking time.
Fiona, I've been at Happy Time a long time
and if I'm gonna be your mentor, I'm just saying, you know,
you can really...
.. benefit from my experience...
- What are you doing? - I'm stealing pens.
- Well, the really good ones are up there. - Cool.
When you think about it
half your brain is up there telling you not to do stuff
and for the first 18 years of my life, I listened.
And then I died.
Truth is, when you finally do eat it, or bite it,
or get hit by a flaming toilet seat,
it's not the big stuff you regret,
the "live your dreams" crap.
Near as I can tell, it's the small stuff.
Like not reaching out to those who needed you most.
Imagine yourself journeying through a world that is deranged, empty
and devoid of anchors to reality.
That is the daily struggle for those suffering schizophrenia.
I'm Ronnie Dobbs. I'm a Capricorn.
I really like long walks in the rain and stuff.
That's your boy.
I've seen them. I aspire to them. I make contact...
They can no longer distinguish what is real from what is unreal.
He's not quite right, is he?
See, uh... That's for you. I gotta go in here.
This one's mine over here.
Oh, well.
Occupational hazard, no? That one's gonna fall on this one. Blah, blah...
- Yeah? - It sucks.
- George, wait. - I have to go after him.
- Rube wants to see you. - Tell him I'm busy.
He said now.
- What do you mean "clerical error"? - They had the date wrong.
So this guy Ronnie Dobbs is not supposed to die?
He dies, just not today.
- See anything you like? - No.
I've never owned a used car. I just don't see myself starting now.
My first car was an 1898 "Systeme Panhard".
It was actually more buggy than car but it had beautiful lines.
It was a little jarring on my nuts.
Used cars are for... Well, they're for other kinds of people.
Is there a problem there, princess?
This is not small curd cottage cheese.
- It's large curd. - And?
And it's just too much curd. I can't eat it and I won't.
- What is wrong with you? - Nothing. I like things the way I like them
and I despise big fat globules of cottage cheese.
- Does that make me strange? - A little bit.
This Ronnie gives me the creeps.
He looked at me as if he knew what I was up to. He gave me this weird look.
He's schizophrenic. All he has is weird.
I don't think I've ever been in a used car.
One for you and one for you.
I don't think I've ever used anything used.
Congratulations.
- I have slept with married men. - How many?
Can I watch the window washer fall to his death?
- Sure. - Oh, can I come?
Ronnie, you cannot go off your meds again.
I'm your psychiatrist. I have responsibilities here.
Ronnie, are you listening to me?
- Yeah. - I'll tell you what...
Why don't you let me be the one voice in your head that you actually listen to?
Since you've proved that you can't be trusted...
you're going to be tested twice a week.
It's just urine tests.
It's weird how they always fall butter-side down.
- Come on, man. - That's for coming to work wasted.
- You mean drunk? - I got a sweet beer bong, man.
Yeah?
- Now that I'm dead, can I still get high? - Have you got some?
- Yeah. - Great.
- Hey. - Hey.
Sorry for sticking you with that job. If you need any help...
No, thanks. It's done.
- Really? - Yeah.
Thanks for all your guidance.
Here. Have a pen.
I realised my favourite trainee was laying down on the job.
I had been a caring and compassionate mentor and she threw it back in my face.
I checked the boxes. You can't just stuff the paper in like that.
- The job was to remove the edges. - How can you be mad?
- You're not doing your job. - You said it was bullshit.
So?
So I believed you. You know what you're doing.
I wasn't disappointed.
I was kind of proud of myself.
I'd convinced her, like me, not to care.
I, George Lass, could be a role model.
- Are you reporting me? - No, Fiona. I don't think I will.
And with that epiphany,
long-ignored neurons went to work igniting new connections.
And reconnecting old ones.
Like the memory that when I was a kid,
the tooth fairy never came to my house.
Sure, I lost plenty of teeth
and, sure, I stuck them under my pillow expecting a cool reward
like cash or candy.
But my mom thought cash and candy were crass,
so tooth after tooth was instead rewarded with a thoughtful note meant to inspire.
This sucks.
At the time I thought it was a total rip-off.
Like I said, it's the little things you regret.
The next time I lost a tooth, it was still under my pillow in the morning.
And then my young brain started putting it all together.
No tooth fairy. No Easter bunny.
No Santa.
And I know my sister Reggie must have felt the same.
Time to embrace the glory and be free.
- Hey. - Hey.
I love the park. Especially all the beautiful things you find in it.
In case I haven't been clear, I am undead, not dead-dead.
All those biological urges still apply.
I think I've seen you around. I'm Ronnie.
I'm just sitting here.
You know, as in not talking to anyone.
I thought you were sitting here because I was.
OK. Another regret was I never learned to flirt.
I guess it had something to do with the fear of rejection.
Fortunately, fear's grip loosens when you're already dead.
I'm sorry. That was rude. I'm George.
- What do you do, George? - Office work. You?
- I talk to pretty girls named George. - Oh.
That was lame.
I'm sorry. I'm trying to flirt with you. It's not really my thing.
And with that, we weirdly bonded.
The only thing standing in the way of more bonding
was that I may have been his grim reaper. I was as close as he's ever been to death.
- Do you want some popcorn? - No. That's OK.
You know what's crazy?
The human body has over two pounds of living bacteria in it.
Not human cells, but foreign cells, OK?
Like living creatures that set up entire communities within our bodies.
We house them, we feed them, carry them around.
It's a pretty sweet deal for germs.
I'm not really a popcorn person.
I have to go do something now.
He's gonna die.
That guy over there.
Death's coming for him. You know it, don't you?
I admit he'd caught me off guard, so I played dumb.
I... I don't know... Huh?
Real, real dumb.
Heads up!
I got it!
You got sloppy. He's seen you on the scene one too many times.
- He knew he was gonna die. - The guy on the bike died.
- He knew someone was gonna die. - So you talked to him?
- He talked to me. I... talked back. - Young fella?
- Young enough. - Sloppy.
- What the hell was I supposed to do? - Not be sloppy.
I know this is cliché to hate your boss, but you're a real dickweed.
What you're feeling right now, rage and frustration all knotted together
binding everything from your head to your digestive tract, that's my life with you.
The guy talked to me. What was I supposed to do?
Steer clear of people. Undead live on the fringe of the living world.
We're facilitators, not participants.
These are awful.
What I didn't tell Rube was that I should be good at this
because I'd spent my whole life on the fringe.
I was determined not to waste another.
She's strange, Clancy.
She's a strange 11-year-old.
She's just going through a difficult time.
She's been "going through a difficult time" for 11 years.
I don't think that changing schools is the answer.
In fact, it'll only exacerbate things.
I spoke to Hank. He said we could borrow against your pension.
We have a great public school and you want to send Reggie to private.
It seems incredibly stupid.
So let's just pretend that we have a normal child. OK?
Let's pretend that going to a huge public school is gonna cater to her needs.
She lost her sister.
And she's lost.
She lives in her head! God knows what's going on in there. She's inscrutable.
- What? - Nothing.
I'm not disagreeing.
I'd rather you disagree. At least for once you'd be committing to something.
Let's see how she feels about changing schools. It may not be what she wants.
She's 11. How about we make the decisions? Act like the parents?
Hey, honey.
Your dad and I were just talking about you.
About the possibility of maybe changing schools.
Maybe going to St Theresa's over on Hillhurst.
I wanna ride a horse.
I was doing my best to stay on the fringe.
Looked like someone had followed me there.
- Why are you stalking me? - Why are you stalking me?
I'm not.
What were you doing with that window washer the other day?
I don't know what you're talking about.
Yeah. What I say to you now is probably the last words that I'll ever speak.
It wasn't a pick-up line.
You saw what I saw climbing on that building.
It's death.
It's been following me around.
It's come to collect me.
I knew better.
I didn't have his Post-it any more
and I sure didn't see any familiar faces lurking in the shadows.
It just likes to keep an eye on us.
It watches me all the time and I'm still here.
# And I'm on my knees 'Cause I need some breathing room... #
I love music.
Well, I like listening to it.
World pop, French club scene.
I could burn you a great CD.
Well, uh...
.. how about you? What do you like listening to?
Except for the fact that he was mentally ill and I was undead,
it was starting to feel like a date.
I don't know. Lots of stuff.
- So do you have a boyfriend? - Not really...
- No. - That's so strange.
- Why is it strange? - I mean, it's just really cool.
I mean, when you think about it it's pretty amazing.
The two of us finding each other like this.
How many billions of people are there in the world?
And only the two of us can see death.
- We share a gift. - You're not seeing death.
Well, whatever it is, it's a lot easier knowing that you see it too.
Listen. I have a job. I can't stay up all night, so...
I can't sleep. I haven't slept in days. I'm kind of self-unmedicating.
- You're on medication? - Was.
Voices. Sometimes I see things that aren't really there.
So do you hear a lot of voices?
No, just one. I call him the Shepherd.
- Does he tell you what to do? - He doesn't control me.
He spends most of his time yelling at me, making me feel stupid.
Mm. Maybe it's my mother.
If I gave speed-racer soap and a toothbrush, this place would shine.
Nothing too gnarly, just something to help me sleep.
Insomnia goes with the gig. It's because we breathe in all that death.
Like working around asbestos. Oh, there you go.
Thank you. One?
Is one enough?
No. You've got that undead metabolism.
Well, how many would a normal person have to take?
- Have you got a fella in here? - It says one.
Your perversions are coming into disturbing focus, Georgie. Just...
There's a thin line between crazy people and the rest of us.
We all have voices in our heads.
Our parents are in there, our doubts, our fears, our desires.
And just like crazy people, we all struggle to know which voice to listen to.
Maybe one trick to sorting it all out
is being careful which voices you let in in the first place.
- What are you doing? - Oh. Um...
I didn't feel you up or anything, I was just looking.
I slept great. Whatever you gave me was great.
But I'm hungry. Are you hungry?
We could go get some breakfast. Do you like waffles?
I'm kinda over waffles. I gotta get to work.
- Can I tag along? - Uh... It's work.
I was thinking about looking at hotels today.
- Something in a suite would be nice. - I think that's a great idea, Daisy.
- I'm sure you do. - If you need a place to crash...
- Not in that life, not in this one, not ever. - OK.
Hi. How did I say I wanted my eggs? I think I said soft-poached.
These are obviously hard-poached, so I can't eat them and I won't.
- They'll come back runny. - I think you're right.
- Because she's gonna sneeze on them. - OK. Here we go, everyone.
I cannot get enough of your company, so we'll have a group job tomorrow.
- St Michael's? - It's a wedding.
Does anyone else find this fucked up?
- Are you familiar with Charlie Chaplin? - The silent movie guy?
I once blew Charlie Chaplin.
Chaplin defined that thin line between comedy and tragedy.
You see some slob get hit in the head with a bucket of wet cement.
From 20 feet away it's funny as hell, but get close enough to see that pain...
.. then it's no longer funny.
- OK. - It's like that with jobs like this.
You gotta learn to step back like the rest of us have.
Far enough to see the funny in everything.
- You wanna come shopping? - Not really.
- You need to blend in. - I have to get dressed up?
Yeah. We get to see what you look like all gussied up.
Do you know this guy?
- No. - He definitely knows one of us.
- He's cute in a "check the oil" way. - Excuse me.
- He's sniffed out your boy, Georgie. - Her boy? Nice.
Georgie girl has had him stashed away in her flat.
Good for you!
- You work with George? - She told you that?
She said she was going to work.
Does it look like we're working?
- No. - We just come here to talk.
We're sort of a group and I sort of lead it.
- You're a doctor? - Yeah.
Thank you.
I dare you not to love it.
So that's like a group session over there?
Yeah. That's my group.
- How's the bear claw? - It's good.
- I'm Rube. - Ronnie.
This is a little hard for me, Ronnie,
and I'm choosing my words carefully, being George's doctor and all.
Even though she's living on her own away from the facility,
I try to get a feel for the quality of people she hangs out with.
I'm just saying whatever you've got planned, be careful.
She's had a tough row in life.
Frankly, she can be a danger to herself when stressed.
And others. Follow?
- I think so. - Good. You seem like a good kid.
I'd appreciate it if you'd leave. You're making my group anxious.
OK.
Head out. George and I need to talk. I gotta make a sissy.
Well, she's still on the horse, so I guess that's a good thing.
I guess.
I didn't pick the guy up. He said he could see gravelings. You can't get mad at me.
- Do I look mad? - A little.
Thank you.
Do you know what would happen if the living knew we were here among them?
It would up-end the world.
Believe me. You do not want to be responsible for a Biblical panic.
I didn't tell him anything.
You didn't say you were a reaper? Or talk about gravelings?
I said that I could see them too. That's all. He thinks they're death.
- He told you he's schizophrenic? - He said he's on medication for seeing things.
Well, maybe what we really have is a mentally unstable young man
who thinks you're the cat's meow.
So this is all some plot on his part to get in my pants?
All men are liars where pretty girls are implicated.
You can see their noses growing. Trust me.
So you think I'm pretty.
- Do you like convertibles? - Yeah. I guess.
I once gave Errol Flynn a hand-job in a convertible.
That's a nice story.
So tell me about this guy.
What's there to tell? He's crazy and he sees gravelings.
- That's a first. - Rube says it's not possible.
- That's Rube. - What do you mean?
If he can't wrap his brain around something unexplained it doesn't exist.
It's sad, really. Do you like him?
Did I mention he's crazy?
What kind of car is that?
I am a sucker for platinum.
- What are you doing? - Getting us a ride.
I love your car.
Thanks. I love your breasts.
Do you have room for two? We're trying to get downtown.
Sure. I'll just get this out of here.
Hey! What the fuck! Hey!
I thought it was really something this morning seeing you up on that horse.
Here.
I used to ride when I was young.
There was a stable within walking distance of Grandma Phyl's house.
I don't want this.
- Excuse me? - I don't like riding. It makes my hips hurt.
- Oh. - I want this.
- A drum set? - Yeah.
Well, my job is not to give you your every desire.
Especially when you throw it back in my face.
In future, when someone gives you a gift,
you might want to have the decency to say thank you, even if you hate it.
Thank you.
Why does everything always have to be such a struggle?
I don't know.
- Right. - I don't.
Grandma Phyl was very supportive of my love of horses.
She bought me lessons.
Even bought me a handmade saddle from Spain.
I used to ride every day after school and weekends.
She wanted me to be good enough to compete... which I hated.
At the time I thought she was giving me what I wanted.
- I suppose you'll want lessons. - I figured I'd just teach myself.
I'll have to talk to your father. You know how he likes a quiet house.
I'm not a big fan of weddings, but a job is a job.
So I sat there watching those 50 happy people gathered to celebrate a marriage,
dressed in their Sunday best,
about to hear some priest's flowery words
about the joining together of two souls, uniting as one, blah-blah, blah, blah...
Until death do them part...
.. which would be in about 11 minutes.
Hey.
- You gotta get out of here. - I need to talk.
- Not right now. - Please.
Come on.
How did you find me?
I waited outside your building and the rest was pretty easy.
- Did I see your doctor in there? - Doctor?
- Rube. - He might be. We run in the same circle.
What is it you have to say?
- I just wanted to kiss you. - No... No way. I can't...
It was my first post-death kiss.
That alone made it memorable.
Actually, I came to say goodbye.
And my first post-death kiss off.
I'm on the run.
OK.
I've got friends in Boise.
I can't stay in the city.
I'll be tested. I'll have to stay on my meds and I won't do that.
My eyes have been opened. I mean, like you.
I've seen death and I can't shut that off.
I don't want to.
- Did you, uh...? - I don't... I can't really say.
Everybody out!
Everybody needs to get out or you're all gonna die!
You really shouldn't have done that.
It's the Holy Ghost I'm worried about.
You're not welcome in this church. Peanut, you are trying my patience.
- We have to warn them. - Don't. Stop.
Why wouldn't we?
- You want this to happen? - This has nothing to do with what I want.
- But you're Death. - No!
This makes perfect sense.
Death taking the form of a beautiful girl, trying to trick me.
I wasn't getting mushy because he said I was beautiful.
I'm not all that. I'm just a cog. I sort of work for Death.
Rube? He's Death?
No. He's...
.. middle management.
But he knows about you, which means upper management knows about you
and, in this case, upper management probably is Death.
Oh.
So you may have to run farther than Idaho.
You may now kiss the bride.
I can't exactly tell you why I needed to kiss him.
I just knew I'd regret it if I hadn't.
And then... I did my job.
You should stay away from me.
Did you do it? Good girl.
You're not her doctor, are you? You're not his patient.
No. I'm not her doctor. She's not my patient.
I thought I saw Death coming for me. I guess I was right.
- They're not going to Bali, are they? - No.
That's one of the saddest things I've ever heard.
They don't seem to mind.
You know, I really liked kissing you.
In Ronnie's head, maybe he thought he could fly
or that I had some kind of special gift.
I guess he was right.
Maybe I do.
We all create in our heads who we are and who we want others to be.
And how we view ourselves,
hero, victim, loved, unloved,
changes over time.
Those little neurons spark along, working overtime,
creating what we believe.
So in that way, the mind kind of works like magic...
.. making what we desire happen.
And, in the end, maybe the trick to sorting it all out is trusting your voice
and being true to yourself,
chasing your bliss.
You know, all the clichés-on-parade crap
like marching to the beat of your own...
.. whatever.
Subtitles: Sue Whitfield ww. broadcasttext. com
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