It's Daisy. Daisy Adair.
Daisy's a reaper.
- What are you doing? - Getting a ride.
If you need a place...
Not in that life, not in this one, not ever. But thanks.
Rube said I should bunk with you.
You didn't get me a place. Why did you say she could stay with me?
- I thought you'd hit it off. - I'd hit her.
- Reggie's principal called. - She's been cutting school.
Where's she going?
Keeping a dead animal is something a crazy person would do.
I'm not crazy.
How do you honour Georgia's memory?
Reggie's been stealing toilet seats,
you think a few photos are gonna stop that?
- Who complained? - The eggs were not good.
So who do we blame - the hen or the cook?
Let's blame the hen.
Nice guy.
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Stop and smell the roses.
When someone is flying through life that's what you tell them.
"Slow down, take stock, appreciate what you have, use all your senses."
"Stop and smell the roses."
It's advice you tell someone when they're 30, I guess.
Not something you'd ever tell an 18-year-old girl.
I wish someone had told me... before I died and all.
I wouldn't have listened anyway.
- Morning. - Georgia...
I don't mean to pick on you so early, but may I ask you something personal?
- Can I just get some coffee first? - Have you been using my eye cream?
No, Daisy. I have not touched your stupid eye cream.
Because I have noticed an erosion over the past few days.
You stole it from some dead woman's purse.
It's very expensive stuff, Georgia. It contains an anti-oxidant complex.
Why don't you ever say anything to her? Stealing from dead people?
I have no moral objection to taking the possessions of someone who's dead.
- I'm gonna start stealing stuff. - That's a bad idea.
- But you said... - I said I'm OK with this kind of theft.
- What are you having, darling? - Just coffee, please.
- What fresh hell is this? - Corned beef hash and eggs.
Corned beef hash - I speak for aficionados of the dish - is to be fried
with a crisp exterior.
This, my dear Casey, is not crisp. It's...
- I don't know what this is. - It doesn't look good.
I do not say this phrase lightly in this hallowed place.
This is fucking inedible. It could give me trichinosis.
Don't do this to me.
Please tell him how I want my hash. It's my prerogative and this is my wish.
- Let's not tarry. I'm a hungry man. - Just dump some ketchup on it.
Do what the little girl says, put ketchup on it.
The man is already in a foul mood. He's gonna take it out on me.
He might take a crap into your hash.
You tip good, but you're pushing me.
Telling me not to tarry. You can kiss my ass.
All right. There's work to be done.
Wait. This person dies in 45 minutes. I don't have time for coffee.
I'm coming with. I don't think it's a good idea to eat here today.
I think she's one of them.
- Oh, God, she's old. It's so sad. - Would you rather she were your age?
I just... I don't know. They look so sweet.
Then do something sweet for her before she dies.
Excuse me. Is one of you ladies Mrs Todd?
- I'm Mrs Todd. - Quinn, maybe you won something.
Mrs Todd, that gentleman over there on the right
wanted me to tell you that you look very - and this is a quote -
beautiful today.
Oh. Quinn's got an admirer.
Nicely handled, Georgia. You're growing up to be a fine grim reaper.
His name is Henry Lancridge. He made a lot of money in real estate.
- Oh? - I'd fuck him.
- How was your hash? - Excellent.
- Prepared to your liking? - Without question.
- Second time around. - I don't make a lot of money here, pal.
I'm aware of that. You all right today? You don't seem yourself.
You mean my food doesn't seem quite like me today.
You are not at your best. Your food was not good today.
What's your name, my friend?
- Angus Cook. - You're a cook, your name is Cook.
- Is there a fucking echo here? - Are your people from Scotland?
- Yeah. - Edinburgh?
- Yeah. Both parents. - Lovely city.
You look like a man with a terrible problem on your mind.
I wish you could unburden yourself.
I'm sensing some kind of a financial difficulty.
Yeah. I lost everything I own. Everything.
- Goddamn pyramid scheme. - Vitamins?
- Hair products. - Sorry you had to go through that.
Put me down for a case. Try to clear your head when you cook tomorrow.
Bye bye.
- How old d'you think she is? I'm thinking 770. - I'm not good at that.
It's just a game. You guess someone's age.
How old are you? Like, 35?
Yeah. You're not good at it.
I can't tell if she's had work done or whether she's just moisturised often.
That's a toughie.
- What moisturiser do you use? - I don't.
Georgia... Sweetheart...
Just because you're dead doesn't mean you have to give up.
Your T-zone is so dry.
- My what? - Your T-zone, silly.
- I have to go do this. - OK.
Be sweet about it. You may be the last face she sees.
- What a beautiful dog! - Thank you.
- Say "thank you", JD. - Yeah, what a sweetie.
He likes you. He always likes little girls.
- What kind of dog is he? - Golden retriever.
They're extraordinary companions.
I know I may sound crazy, but I don't know what I'd do without JD.
I really love him.
And I'm sure he really loves you too.
JD?
JD, come! JD, come!
JD!
This one shouldn't have been hard. She was old. She wasn't like me.
She'd lived a life.
But somehow I felt guilty. I wasn't sure why.
Maybe it was the stupid dog. It was definitely the dog.
What about JD? Who's gonna take care of JD?
Um... I don't know.
- I'm not good at the pet thing. - He likes little girls.
Well, don't you have any kids or grandchildren or something?
They're thousands of miles away.
- Does he bark? - He's a dog!
I should have responded as I did
whenever someone tried to hand me some stupid responsibility when I was alive.
I should have said, "Thanks, but I prefer not to." Polite, firm, hard to argue with.
I'll take hi...
And then it was just the two of us.
I wanted to tell JD that he'd be better off without me.
And even though that sounded like some sappy break-up line,
it really was the truth.
The fact is, I had a rather sordid past when it came to animals.
That probably sounds like I used to molest them, but it was nothing like that.
I actually loved every pet I ever had.
First there was my mouse, Speedy Gonzales.
I fed him a jalape駉 because it seemed only natural that he would like them.
Mom!
He didn't.
After Speedy Gonzales passed away, I was on the rebound hard.
There was a void. I told my mom only a new puppy could fill it.
Happy Easter, sweetheart.
- This isn't a dog. - A dog is a lot of responsibility.
- You don't think I can take care of a dog? - Not true.
But this Easter chick needs a mom and I think you're the best girl for the job.
I named my chick Tweety.
The problem was our cat, Sylvester, ate Tweety.
And promptly choked to death.
It was grisly scene - possibly a murder/suicide pact.
I don't know what the fuck happened. I never really made peace with it.
It went on and on like that. The more I loved my pets, the quicker I killed them.
Which is why it wasn't for purely selfish reasons that I wanted to lose JD.
His demise would be sure and swift and I knew somehow I'd be the cause of it.
Frankly, I had enough guilt and regret
without adding the death of this beautiful dog to the mix.
Come on, JD. Let's go home.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
Daisy, I've been thinking about earning some extra cash by doing all this acting stuff.
- Really? - Yeah.
In fact, you could give me a few pointers.
You could come over, we could read some scenes together.
- That kind of stuff. - I don't see that happening.
Daisy, this is not some cheap move. I had my first audition yesterday.
- What was it for? - Some beer advertisement.
The notice said young, like 20s, hip, good-looking, so come on...
- How did it go? - I didn't get it.
Don't be discouraged. I'm sure it was the accent.
It was a print ad, so you didn't speak.
Then the accent's not a problem. What a gorgeous dog.
- Isn't she? - Is it a golden?
Yes, she is.
- What's its name? - JD.
- JD's a male. - Yes, she is.
Why are you calling him a she?
Because dogs are referred to in the feminine.
- Like a guy talks about a car? - Exactly.
- "She gets 20 to the gallon"? - Sure.
Actually, you refer to dogs by their sex as in "Here, boy. Down, girl."
It's not her dog.
Yeah. I picked up on that. Who does JD belong to?
- You mean who did she belong to. - Please don't tell me this was her dog.
OK, folks. How many times can I fucking say this?
Do not get emotionally involved with these people.
Just do your job.
- Hey, get the dog out of my restaurant! - It's out. I'm sorry.
You are killing me. Just do the job.
What is his problem?
Wow.
Pay the check.
- Hey. - So what does JD stand for?
I don't know. Maybe his owner was a boozer.
Maybe JD stands for Jack Daniels.
You took her soul. What did you see?
I don't think she named him Jack Daniels.
He's your dog now. You should figure it out.
I'm gonna take a walk. I'll see you later, peanut.
"Just do the job". Like we were hit men.
Don't get emotionally involved. Clean your gun, go home.
I guess that's what those guys did.
But what we did for a living - what we did for the living -
was not as easy.
Death happened. It happened a lot.
And it happened randomly.
Chances were you were going to know someone who was about to die.
The sheer numbers kinda calmed me down about JD.
I decided that even though this dog would die some day,
nothing would hurt him while he was with me.
I mean, I wasn't the only kid who had accidentally offed a pet.
My little sister was just as star-crossed as I was.
Reggie had already blown through an aquarium full of fish
and now had moved on to mammals.
Wherever Silverberg is now, I'm sure he forgives you.
I mean, he was nothing if not reasonable.
Hey. What's for dinner?
Oh. Did we lose somebody?
Actually, yes. We had a little accident here.
Reggie thought she'd teach the gerbil to swim.
Why teach a gerbil to swim?
Mom said that everybody needs to know how to swim.
Yes, sweetie, but throwing him in the toilet's a rather tough-love approach.
- I didn't even know she had a gerbil. - There's a shocker.
And so it began for Reggie.
Things she cared about suddenly began to disappear from her life.
- How was everything? - Oh, it was just fine.
He's in a better mood this afternoon.
I enjoyed your eggs very much. Thank you.
You're welcome.
Oh, shit!
- Hi. - What are you doing?
- Going into my apartment. - I mean, the dog.
- The dog's going in too. - Georgia, this is a small space we share.
Share? I can't believe she knew the word.
- So? - Well...
I know this isn't something you care about, but I own some beautiful clothes.
- What's your point? - He looks like a shedder.
- That's something I can live with. - Truth is I'm wildly allergic to dogs.
"Wildly allergic"? Seems you might have started with that.
I don't like talking about my flaws. Thanks for understanding.
Oh, yes. I'll see you later.
If she's allergic, why did she pet you?
JD and I wandered through the park for the better part of an afternoon.
The kind of wandering that takes place when you didn't have to be anywhere.
But, in our hearts, both JD and I knew we were just killing time.
And we needed a home.
What? No, no, no...
And if a home was a place where you felt comfortable...
.. this was not it.
Yeah.
Whoa...
Millie? Millie.
I'm working. Oh...
This is so not cool.
Neither is catching Zs on the J-O-B.
- Oh. - Is there something I need to know?
No. I'm good. Just a little tired.
A tired worker is a poor worker. A poor worker is often an out-of-work worker.
What's going on?
I have this dog. My roommate says she's allergic.
I'm staying with this guy, but he's kinda...
Skeevy?
- English. - Eeugh.
- What kind of doggie? - Golden retriever.
Lovely companions.
Why don't you stay with me for a while while you figure things out?
Oh, that's very generous of you, Delores, but I'll be fine. I'll take care of things.
I'm sure you will.
You have a Post-it on your forehead.
So he choked to death.
I've never had a choker. I can't imagine it's very pretty.
It isn't. I couldn't even look this time. I took off.
I feel terrible, just terrible.
A shot through the heart. I was here. Didn't even see him go down.
- Yup. Poor guy. - Choked on a ham sandwich.
- Just like Mama Cass. - Just like Mama Cass.
- I sure wish I'd heard him sputtering. - Why? You know the Heimlich?
No. I got Roberto in there cooking.
- The boy can't even fry an egg. - The bus boy?
What else am I supposed to do? It's not like Angus gave me notice.
Casey, I know how to cook. I know how to cook very well.
- In a diner? - Burn one on the hoof, hold the bread.
I'm a gifted man. Why are you looking for somebody?
Well, anybody's better than what I got. I can't speak Spanish.
- Go. Vamoose. - Yes.
It's all yours. I don't need this bullshit.
And I'm a fucking citizen, dude. Speak English.
Got the sand, got the sea dust, got mud...
Just call it coffee. Don't call it mud. It'll only confuse people.
- You're not supposed to be here. - Neither are you.
Work was unbearable that day.
Not just because it was work,
but because I didn't know what was going on with JD and Mason.
Thanks.
Mason said he would take care of him,
but I wasn't sure what that meant.
I wondered what he was doing with my dog.
Then the guy dog says to the girl dog,
"I don't know what the hell you rolled in tonight, but it smells lovely!"
Whoo!
So maybe it didn't make any sense,
but I didn't like the idea of Mason using my dog for some evil scheme to bag women.
That's right. My dog.
I knew something had to be done. Something drastic.
Good timing. I was just about to start the last Hot Pocket.
Don't let me do it no matter how much I beg.
- Come on in. - Thanks for letting us stay here.
Well, you're not the first strays to find shelter at Chez Delores.
God knows I've taken in my fair share of drifters.
Shame about the homeless. They are passionate lovers, but they rob you blind.
I'm not gonna rob you, I just don't exactly know where home is these days.
Stay as long as you like.
You know what they say, home is where the Herbig.
- Would you like a tour? - Sure.
Well, it's actually more of a twirl. This is it.
It's nice. Clean.
I like to look at every inch as an opportunity.
Delores, where's your cat?
Murray? How sweet to remember.
Murray's away. Dialysis, three days a week.
- I'm sorry. - Mmm.
This is my snooze bin.
Hope you don't mind my night sweats.
Kidding! Those ended weeks ago.
Over here is where I puzzle. I got a real head-scratcher here.
Tonight we make a big push.
And over here...
This is central ops.
This is where I make my "to do" lists, but the doing happens all over.
Are you a doer in the home, Millie?
I'm more of a TV watcher.
Well, you came to the wrong place, lazybones.
You take a couple of seconds to get your bearings
and then you and I are gonna be busy little beavers.
Damn it!
- Your PCs are bubbling. - What?
Your pancakes. I'll get 'em.
Flip 'em over before the bubbles burst or they lose their elasticity.
- Flip 'em, not flop 'em. - I'm flipping.
- You're flopping. - So what?
If you don't know, we're knee-deep in water. Plate 'em.
- Time! You're breaking my heart. - It's a three stack.
- Axle grease 'em. - Pardon?
Butter! You're killing me. Butter is elemental.
- I've been eating them for 20 years. - That's all you know how to do.
- Don't drown 'em. - Fucking butter on pancakes.
If that's your attitude... Check, please!
You gotta criticise and teach in the same breath.
Please, no finger painting.
I'm giving you wisdom, an ancient Chinese secret,
recipes that have been passed down that originated on the moors of Scotland.
Banana Bonanza originated on the moors of Scotland?
Eggs!
- Run zippo. - What?
Spoon with the holes.
It's called the line because it's like being on the front.
Every soft egg that turns hard is like a soldier that died in your arms.
Dang. Another man down.
Rest in peace.
I like leaving folded laundry out for a moment before I drawer it.
Let it breathe. Hey, don't quit on me now.
The night is young and there's much to be done.
And that's what it's all about - getting things done.
Hey, how about we lay some new contact paper on the cabinet shelves?
Come on.
I couldn't decide between Ferns & Flowers and Country Rose so I got both.
What do you like?
Oh. Did you put detergent in the dishwasher?
- No. I thought you did. - Oh, silly us.
We'll have to locate those dishes and wash them again.
- The computer told you that? - No. Stinky 5,000 told me that.
Looks like he's also voting for Ferns & Flowers.
- Who's voting? - Oh, my gosh! Didn't I tell you?
I have my own website.
"Getting things done with Delores".
No fucking way.
We live in a society that speeds along and with people so busy,
character-building chores just fall by the wayside.
So people like watching me getting things done.
There's a camera there...
.. and there... and there... and there.
But not in the bathroom. Folks looking at me on the potty would be wrong.
While watching her everywhere else is just plain insane.
I was thinking about calling it Herbig Website,
but I was worried I'd attract people with a fetish for, you know... big things.
So people actually pay to watch you?
I get two cents when someone clicks on,
but that all goes straight to the American Amputee Association.
Oh, Christ. My boss has a wooden leg.
My good friend, Rebecca Randall, climbed Everest.
She made the summit, but lost all ten little Indians.
She keeps tipping over. No balance, poor dear.
Oh!
Hungry Girl wants to know the dog's name.
- Um, JD. - And what does the JD stand for?
I don't know.
Well, enough chatting. We gotta get things done.
Oh.
So he didn't cross over.
What a pain in the ass. What do you think happened?
I have no clue.
- You like baseball? - Not really.
- I did once blow Babe Ruth. - Who didn't?
Pitcher pitches, batter doesn't swing, umpire doesn't say anything.
Batter says, "So what was it? Ball or strike?"
Umpire says, "It ain't nothing till I call it."
This fucking guy has been called out on strikes.
- And won't get out of the batter's box. - Won't get out of the box.
Cheeseburger. Try not to fuck it up.
See the way he talks to me?
Yeah.
The thought that people were watching me kept me awake.
I couldn't help wondering who liked to watch Delores "getting things done".
What were those people getting done while they were watching?
Oh, baby, dry those dishes. Uh-huh.
Dry them. Make them squeaky clean.
Oh, yeah... Use the hand towel. Oh, yeah.
I needed to find a place to sleep.
What?
Don't say a word.
It's my life, my apartment, my dog!
You're the guest and if you don't like it, you can kiss my dead ass goodbye.
Are we clear?
And you. A dog in a hot tub?
That's just sick.
- A dog in a hot tub? - No clue.
- Not bad? - Come on. That is spot-on. It's Michelangelo.
Load 'em.
Guy wants the cheese melted on the bread, not the patty, and kraut.
- Fine. - No, no. That's how it starts.
You give in, next you're making a rib-eye, well done, smothered in ketchup.
- You're being melodramatic. - I'm not!
I'm not talking to you.
- I'm not paying for it. - Oh, you pay for it.
Sending back a dish is a hostile act.
Are you going to take orders from a fucking customer?
Hey. How are you doing? You order a patty melt?
- Yeah. Is there a problem? - You don't know what a patty melt is.
A patty melt not only implies what it is but also how it's prepared.
- The cheese is melted on the patty. - I like the cheese on the bread.
That'd be a grilled cheese. How about I make you a grilled cheese?
I want a patty melt with kraut and cheese melted on the bread.
Sorry. I can't do that.
What do you mean?
Well, you give in on one little thing, you compromise and compromise...
until you're a shell of a man beaten down and you stand for nothing.
I want to talk to the manager.
A dish is a collection of flavours, consistencies.
Start swapping ingredients and it's like fucking with a Jenga tower of tastes.
- You don't know what you're asking for. - I know.
Kraut on Der Patty Melt is akin to knocking the tower down.
"Der Patty Melt" should have kraut on it.
"Der" is German for "the".
The Waffle House. The patty melt.
I want der fucking patty melt with der cheese melted on der bread
with der fucking kraut on it. Got it?
No, you got it. On der house.
Fucked with the wrong cook today, eh, Angus? Angus?
Who are you talking to back here?
Me? No one.
I got a new guy coming in today, who worked at Ihop, so he's really good.
That's great.
So this'll be your last shift and I wanna thank you for helping out.
You're welcome.
I could help you show the new guy the ropes.
I mean, the oven's always 25 degrees hotter than it reads.
When he does his Belgian waffles, you know the trick? Vanilla.
Pinch of nutmeg. Makes it taste like Christmas all year.
Boy, you didn't just eat here. You really watched Angus cook.
Yeah. Man had a gift.
- Millie. May I have a moment? - Sure.
This is difficult to say. Especially now.
I always find it hard to maintain authority after I've shared a bed with someone.
Sure.
I printed the postings from the "Getting Things Done With Delores" website
and I'm sorry to say the response to your visit was not what I hoped.
Delores...
Pure Attitude 477 described you as "lethargic and uninspiring" and, uh...
Truth Machine 8 said he went to bed feeling nothing had been accomplished.
- Millie, this just won't do. - Listen, don't worry about kicking me out.
I just think there might be a better environment for you some place else.
Some place slower, where you can get things done at your own pace.
I'm sorry things didn't work out.
Maybe this is the spark you need to light a fire under that ass you like to sit on.
If you'll excuse me.
There's a Hot Pocket in the microwave calling my name. Don't try to stop me.
JD and I wandered through the park one last time
before I took him home.
I think some people wander because that's who they are.
Wandering is what gives them oxygen.
It's the wandering that allows them to live.
I was beginning to think that that's the kind of person I was.
The kind of person for whom one job, one love,
even one life, wasn't going to be enough to hold me.
Then there are those who wander because they don't have a place to go -
to call home.
So I took JD home.
Come on. Stay.
You be good. You be good, JD.
Stay. You stay.
Stay.
And who are you?
"JD".
Are you lost, JD?
All right. You can come in. Come on.
Maybe that's what happens to some souls. Maybe they get lost.
Maybe they have to wander because they're not quite at peace yet.
Maybe there's some kind of unfinished business with these souls.
Like they're holding on to something. Holding their breath.
And when the business is done, they can finally let go,
exhale... and sleep.
The dog's in the bed.
- Will the dog be sleeping in the bed? - Maybe.
- Will you be sleeping in the bed? - Maybe.
What do you think JD stands for?
Just Dog.
I kinda like that.
Get the dog off the bed, Reggie.
That was my mother.
Subtitles: Sue Whitfield ww. broadcasttext. com
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