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Every reaper has their own style.
Those touches that make death so special.
Do I need to be crossing over or passing on or something?
You ain't going nowhere until I fill my quota.
Cool it. Sir, I'm gonna say this politely.
I will fuck you up.
- She's a strange 11-year-old. - She's going through a difficult time.
Reggie's been stealing toilet seats.
You think a few photos will stop that?
I think it'd be more productive if I talked to Reggie alone today.
You like the ladies, right?
Bloody hell.
- How are you doing? - I don't think so.
JD?
JD, come! JD, come!
Who's going to take care of JD?
Who are you?
The best memories don't have a chance.
You keep coming back to them
and every time you do, you cook them a little more.
Daddy, want one of my pancakes when they come?
Yeah. George, I'll trade you a pancake for two pieces of my bacon.
It's a deal. But you could have had a pancake for free.
- Goal! - Whoo!
After a while, all you have left is this tiny, crispy fragment.
It's not like you even remember what happened any more.
It's more like it's the idea of what happened.
And Sunday mornings were the best.
The ketchup?
Georgia? The ketchup, George. The ketchup.
Oh. Sorry.
I know it's none of my business, but you are a very internal creature.
It's none of your business, but you act like it is.
- I'm not internal. - That's why you don't have any friends.
- Roxy here is an external as they get. - You don't know me.
I know your moods - grumpy, mean and grumpy, sleepy and grumpy.
- Like the seven dwarves. - Daisy, did you ever sleep with a dwarf?
Don't be stupid. They're cartoons.
I would love to see you do my job for one day.
When there's a Broadway musical about your shoes, I will walk a mile in them.
- May I have my assignment? - It's the college. Parking's a nightmare.
- I don't have a car. - Parking's still a nightmare.
- I'll come with you. - I like to do things alone.
You're trying to score some sweet young thing.
Being around all that youthful energy might inspire me.
Then you could steal a shitload of drugs.
Round and round and round it goes, where it stops, nobody knows.
You know after you've been dead a while
and you suspect things might be coming back to normal in your family?
OK. Maybe you don't.
I think that may have happened to my family.
The weird part is that my family never was normal before.
You know that Irish setter I had growing up? Freckles?
- Yeah. Your mom showed me pictures. - She loathed that dog.
She told me that when she was showing me pictures.
One day it took a crap in one of her shoes. That was all she wrote.
Dad can't bear to put it to sleep,
so he announces he's going to drive Freckles up Mount Tam to set him free.
- In the woods? - In the woods.
He should have done that with your mother.
He kept them both.
It only says "77th floor. RL Guggenheim."
- This is a dump. - What were you expecting?
Something more collegiate.
- Holy shit! - Jeez!
That was my bong, douche bag!
But it's nice.
I could have gone to college... until I hit my teacher with a book.
Maybe it was a globe. I can't remember what I hit my teacher with.
- When did this happen? - Er, primary. So I was seven or eight.
My mother was more excited about me going to college than I was.
"Hey! Here's a socially acceptable way to evict my daughter."
- But you didn't go. - I went.
- I just dropped out. She hated me for it. - Your father must have shit.
He didn't say much really. We weren't really close at that point.
- Why? - I don't know.
When I was a kid we were close.
He used to let me drink Coke at breakfast. I thought that was really cool.
Dad, do the straw trick.
That never gets old.
College is two things.
Forget what they put in Latin around the seal -
it is not about veritas or fraternitas.
College is about stress-itas and binge-itas.
Stress...
binge.
Anyone seen a card with calculus equations on it?
Stress...
.. binge.
I don't know what I was worried about.
I didn't have any papers due, I hadn't broken up with my boyfriend,
I didn't feel stupid and alone.
But just being near these people who did made me wanna cry.
- Drugs? - No, thank you.
Antidepressants, amoxicillin. Everyone's taking amoxicillin.
- Good for them. - I have this theory.
All this elitist college crap is just a front for the bacteria.
Bacteria creates the colleges
to have the perfect place to breed and evolve.
Let's just find this guy and get outta here.
"Like as the waves make toward a pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before..."
Reading poetry to a guy in my dorm room?
This is something I'll never do.
Hey, señorita!
Make way for Boutrous Boutrous-Nitrous!
Something else I'll never do.
- What's going on? - Nothing.
".. but for his scythe to know:
"And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand
"Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand."
- You get this? - Yeah, yeah. Very moving.
- Want a beer? - No.
I thought we could relax a little bit. Fuck!
Just leave the door open.
Has anybody seen my pink index card?
Is your name Rich Guggenheim?
Fuck! Yes, I am. Thank you so much.
- Big test, huh? - Yeah. Well, no...
Who cares? The number of this girl is on here.
Her name is Jenny. Do you believe in fate?
Kinda.
We met by the vending machines in the med library.
They have Yoo-hoo. Whatever.
She was singing that old song, "Do You Know The Way To San Jose?"
and I had Kazaaed that the night before.
I said to her, "We should just get in the car
and drive to San Jose, you know...
fuck all this."
And she turns to me and she's almost crying, with her Yoo-hoo and shit,
and she says, "I've never been to California. Let's do it after finals!"
And she wrote her number down. This is it.
Jenny.
I think we're really gonna go.
You should.
Jenny may get to California, but it won't be with him.
Shit!
The clowns were fucking with the laws of physics.
It's OK.
Watch out!
Dude?
Dude.
I think it's time to go.
She wanted that open.
Stop it. Get off of me!
I respect that you're saying no, but you'll change your mind.
Stop it!
- I remember what I hit my teacher with. - You've got one second...
So was that kid in the hall really dead?
Yeah... He was.
God. I've never seen a real dead person before, have you?
- No. - No.
Most guys on campus are like you. They're normal, sweet.
- I don't know why I was studying with him. - It looked pretty bad.
I had pepper spray right on my keys, but I was just... "Is this really happening?"
You had a brain freeze. I get them all the time.
Yes. Sometimes I wish I could just, like...
be awake, in the moment, when it's happening.
Or have a pause button or something, so you have time to react.
Yeah. Exactly. I'm such an expert on life after shit happens.
God, life is just too fast.
Is it wrong to decide someone is great because they're so like you?
Oh, shoot! I've got laundry at the coin-op.
- I... I could give you a ride. - A ride in what?
- You have a car? - Yeah.
OK. This is going to sound so shallow, but I like to guess what people drive.
- Yeah. I'm curious too. - OK. Um...
I think that you would rather walk
than drive something that didn't suit you, so...
I'm gonna go with... classic Trans Am, red.
-That's incredible. - Uncanny.
- Oh, my God. I got it right? - Yes!
In fact, I'm gonna go and get it now.
- A red one? - Yeah.
Mason? Don't forget our, uh... thing.
Yeah.
He's kinda cute. Aren't you guys...?
Oh, no! No.
So what's your major?
Oh, my God. That's so queer. What's your name?
Rube said don't get close to the living, stay on the periphery.
Don't tell her who you are. Give her your undead name.
- I'm Millie. - Charlotte.
- I know. Shaking hands is so weird. - You wanna go get some coffee?
That's what you say when someone's having a fucked-up day.
Is that what it says in the "Bad Decisions" manual?
Page three.
Is your friend gonna be OK?
- Yeah. He'll be fine. - OK.
As you get older, the chance of making a good new friend
is about the same as being hit by a truck.
And if you're hit by a truck, which is to say dead,
the chances of making a good friend are even slimmer.
So when I remembered my lunch date with Charlotte,
I felt something new since I died - I felt lucky.
Mason was feeling something new too.
Meanwhile, Roxy was just doing her job, working for the man,
when she ran into a bad one.
- All right. Take it back. - Ticket's written. They don't go back.
Fine. Then why don't you shove those tickets where the sun don't shine?
Step aside, sir. As I told you yesterday, if you have a complaint there's a system.
Your system can suck my dick, miss. OK?
I ain't ever gonna pay those fucking tickets,
so just put them in your fucking pocket and walk off.
- You need to step off. - Step off?
Step off?
OK. OK! Step off!
Sir! That is city property!
You're not listening! I ain't ever gonna pay those tickets, so you take 'em back!
I don't give a fuck about your goddamn fucking rules!
- You take these goddamn tickets back! - Hold up now!
I can tolerate you cursing, screaming at me, disrespecting my vehicle,
but don't you ever put your hands on me.
That's when Roxy decided she didn't care about breaking the rules.
Let me tell you something. I am trying to do my job -
which is definitely my day job.
If you keep fucking with me,
I have other skills that will give your life a turn for the strange and painful.
Do you understand me?
Shakespeare sonnets?
What an elegant, slender volume. Is your coffee table uneven?
Wait. Is there a girl?
Someone special you want to shag?
I don't want to shag her, Daisy.
I do want to shag her, but not in the usual way. I... like her.
- Oh, my. - She's different.
She's sweet. She's sophisticated. She's a college girl.
A college girl? Hm.
What is that supposed to mean?
Nothing. How did you meet?
I hit some bloke on the head who was trying to date-rape her.
- A story to tell the grandkids. - Forget it.
Mason, come on. It's strange seeing you this way.
- She's different. - I get that.
- Not too different. - Oh, no. It'll be fine.
You'll show her there's more to life than learning.
She'll teach you about salad forks and the romantic poets
and you'll teach her about car theft and amphetamines.
Fuck you, Daisy.
I'm sorry. I hope it all works out, honey.
You like lunch, Millie?
- Oh... Actually I have plans today. - Really?
- Yeah. It's kind of a lunch date. - Oh.
I mean, not a date date.
Millie...
I hope you don't feel uncomfortable saying no to me.
It doesn't have to be awkward. You don't have to lie.
I'm not.
- I'm not angry. - OK.
- There'll be plenty of lunches. - Uh-huh.
So don't worry about having "plans".
But I really do have a lunch date.
OK.
It's just your honesty is important
and I think you sometimes forget I have been where you are.
I have been young and alone. I will simply say this.
As you grow, being a loner stops being something you are ashamed of
and becomes something you treasure.
Hi, Millie. Sorry I'm late. Are you ready?
Yeah.
Bye.
- Do you like to shop? - It's OK.
I'm not like a freak about it or anything.
Well, I know it sounds girly, but I love clothes.
Two words I've never heard before - "cute top".
Well, unlike you, I get all my self-esteem from my appearance.
Two words I've also never heard before.
- Want to know a secret? - Absolutely. I love secrets.
- I have never had a manicure. - Jesus!
OK, no. Too much, too soon.
Oh, my God.
- Have you heard from the asshole? - No. I haven't seen him.
I filed a report with the campus police.
You know what totally sucked about the whole thing?
- That he tried to rape you? - Yeah, besides that.
The sonnets. I love the sonnets and he tainted them for me.
This is where I felt it first.
The universe was cocking the fuck-with-me gun.
"That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang..."
I'm taking this incredible seminar. The professor's a trip. You should come.
Bang!
"When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang..."
Shakespeare's trying to paint that emotional moment of a love lost.
I know it's so old school.
A tree in winter, boughs shaking against the cold. Blah, blah, blah...
It's so familiar.
But let me ask you a question.
Who here has had their heart broken?
OK.
Now we know who the dramatic ones are.
But here's my point.
When you're suffering, and I mean truly suffering,
it's the clichés that heal you.
When I'm sad, give me George Jones or Willie Nelson.
That's the brilliance of these sonnets. They state the obvious.
Clichés are clichés because they are the things that have stuck.
Our greatest arrogance is to believe that we are all special
because the truth is we are all unbelievably the same.
Watching this man entertain, be sweet and insightful and touching,
I was struck with one question.
Who was this guy and what had he done with my father?
Excuse me, Professor Lass.
- Hi. Um... Sandy? - Charlotte.
- Why do I even try? - I just wanted my friend to meet you.
- I love your class. - Thank you. Hi.
Hi.
I'm teaching the comedies next semester. It's lighter.
I love that poem.
It was helpful. Especially the part about not being alone.
That's when I knew I'd never met Clancy Lass before.
I don't know if anyone in my family had.
I brought home a stray cat once.
You're not a baby, George. I think you're old enough to see our side of this.
We can take him to an animal shelter.
- They'll kill him! - They won't.
They'll find some nice family to take care of him.
I don't want him in some nice family. I want him in this family!
There is a baby in the house now. It's not a debate.
- This sucks. You do what you want. - Georgia.
- You're the worst dad ever! - Go to your room.
I wanted a kitty cat and I got a little sister instead.
As simple as that, that was the end of something between me and my dad.
I started sleeping in on Sunday mornings.
It never occurred to me that he hadn't changed,
that it was my fault.
I'd just become a teenager.
Did he have a Coke for breakfast when I wasn't there?
- Holy shit! - I knew you'd come back.
- I have to give you a ticket. - Thank you. I wrote you something too.
I realised that when you did the thing that you did
there were no words to describe it,
so I came up with some words that would help other people understand.
"Haggleblass" - the argument with God. What happened between you and me.
"Stubblerud" - the moment when there's no turning back,
when the human needs to be taught a lesson...
- Hang on, sir. - Don't call me sir. Don't call me sir.
I am nothing but a "whispernaut" - an unworthy one in your presence.
- Jesus. - Are you Jesus?
No, I'm not Jesus! What's your name anyway?
Before the Haggleblass, they called me Chuck.
OK, Chuck.
Now, I think what happened to you before...
.. was something you imagined.
Maybe you had a stroke or something.
When you separated my soul from my body...
That didn't happen.
.. you cured me of all my anger.
In one moment, you gave me all the answers.
Nothing happened.
Everything happened.
Everything.
Damn.
Everything.
- Hello, Georgie. - I don't know where she is.
- Give me her number. - She's not interested.
If she were interested, she would have mentioned you. She didn't.
Ask her about me. No, don't ask her because you'll stress the negative.
- Ask her about me, Georgie. - I'll ask her about you.
With that expression on your face? Fuck it!
Fuck you.
I'll show you. We'll be like Romeo and Juliet.
You do know how that story ended?
If Romeo had just masturbated a few times a week,
he would have saved those families a heap of trouble.
- Hey. - Charlotte? What time is it?
- We were going to meet out front. - I'm early.
Daisy Adair. I've heard so much about you I feel I know you already.
And you know Mason.
Of course. My hero.
Well, we'd better be going.
- Ah... hi. - Hello.
This is my friend, Charlotte.
Charlotte, this is my stepdad and his wife.
We really have to go.
- Nice to meet you, Charlotte. Honey? - Huh?
Can you run an errand for me? It's just a few blocks away.
Do it for your stepdad?
- Sure. No problem. - You might wanna hurry.
- Oh, my God. Did you see that? - Yeah.
Now that looks a little more interesting.
And now, for his next trick,
the great Etienne will juggle...
.. knives.
- This is the errand you're running? - I think it is.
Your step-dad needs a juggler?
He's throwing a party for his wife. He needs entertainment.
That is so awesome. Give me a dollar.
Eddie Dienes, do not give that man money. You're encouraging stupidity.
Stupid needs to make a living too.
I'm sorry...
Do you know that guy's name?
I don't know. It's something French or equally fucked up.
Let's go get some lunch.
What about the juggler? Your step-dad's party?
Too dangerous. I don't wanna see anyone die.
What's wrong?
Jugglers just freak me out.
Watch out, dude! Whoa!
- What was that? - I have no idea.
- I didn't know you smoked a pipe. - You need to fix this.
He put his hands on me.
Being pissed off isn't a reason to remove a person's soul from their body.
- Don't do that again. - I didn't know he'd turn into a nut-ball.
How would you have responded? God appeared to him.
I wouldn't be making up words.
He's creating a mythology to take back to his people.
Joseph Smith had the same thing happen to him.
This is nothing.
In 100 years, people will have little plastic meter-maids.
- What do you want me to do? - Restore the status quo.
The guy wasn't supposed to get enlightened, but get a ticket.
You gotta turn him back into a prick.
If you ever take someone's soul again without a Post-it,
I'm gonna break this pipe off in your ass.
- They do look like chickens. - You can't see it right-side up.
Do you think he looks sad?
- Who? - Professor Lass.
- I don't know. - I guess not, huh?
- You do know his story, right? - What story?
His daughter was the girl that was killed by the falling toilet seat.
- No shit? That was his daughter? - Yeah.
I think his relationship with his wife is totally fucked-up.
- How do you know all this? - I don't know.
He gives away clues in class.
- People talk. - Does he talk about it?
- His wife? - His daughter. The one that...
- He doesn't really say anything. - I guess he doesn't really think about it.
No. No, it's there... in how he talks about the poems.
I don't know. You can tell his heart...
He's suffering.
It's so stupid, but I had this one sonnet framed...
I thought it might help him. I never gave it to him though.
What was it?
I memorised it. I know, I'm such a geek.
"No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Nay, if you read this line, remember not,
The hand that writ it, for I love you so,
That in your sweet thoughts I'd be forgot,
If thinking on me then should make you woe."
You know, move on, she'd want it that way.
I think that's a mistake.
Well, I just thought that maybe it would give him some comfort.
- He seems ready to move on. I don't know. - That's right. You don't know.
- I didn't realise what time it is. I gotta go. - Hey, uh...
Charlotte had hurt me.
So I told her I never wanted to see her again the best way.
I'll call you.
One of the silver linings of dying
is watching the people you love lose their shit 'cause they miss you so much.
I was having trouble seeing it here.
I had to wonder. Maybe it was so easy for my dad to say goodbye to me two months ago
was that he had already said goodbye to me a long time before that.
Someone's knocking at the door.
I'm not gonna let you break up with me.
OK. I'm here to apologise. This is for you.
Ah... You didn't do anything wrong, Charlotte.
I'm just screwed up.
This is the part in our friendship where we start to admit that we're not perfect.
- What is that noise? - Cute top.
So do you wanna go do something?
Sure.
- No. - I was, er...
I was passing. I'm going out for the evening
and I thought I'd stop by and see some old friends.
Mason, you look stunning.
Wait. I'm getting the image of a naked Jehovah's Witness
bleeding by a dumpster somewhere.
Oh, Charlotte. What a pleasant surprise.
- Hello, Mason. - We're going out.
- Really? I would love to join you. - Well, it's girls' night out.
We're going to lesbian bars to make out with big women.
You can't come.
- Erm... - Uh... bye.
Oh, give it up.
- I like her. - Sweetie...
That woman will give her heart to a nice young man
who wears reading glasses and a tweed jacket
and who has never done blow off the belly of a dead prostitute.
- I like her. - I know.
She doesn't like you.
I can't believe I was carded.
- You do look like you're ten years old. - Shut up. I look at least 14.
And the giggling didn't help much.
Sorry I freaked out on you today.
I was thinking about that. I shouldn't give Professor Lass the poem.
I don't know. Maybe it's not so crazy after all.
It doesn't mean anything coming from me.
I have never lost anything in my life.
I've had this completely shallow, safe existence.
- Well, don't knock it. - I'm a virgin.
- Yeah. I'm in college and I'm a virgin. - Loser.
- Ah, you too? - That depends on your definition.
Um... Ever been laid?
- Then, yes, technically I am a virgin. - Thank you.
Look, I know you've been through stuff. I can just sense it.
You kind of remind me of him.
The way he talks about love...
.. and loss.
Oh, his eyes... I'm just gonna give it to him. I'm gonna give him the sonnet.
Right. Cheers.
I had your car towed. It's gonna cost you $3775 to get it back plus all the tickets.
They busted your door trying to get in, so kiss your car radio goodbye.
You're a vengeful god.
I can appreciate that you think you had some kind of revelation.
But I am just a meter maid
and you are just a dumb-ass redneck.
That's who we are. So we can forget all this bullshit and just get on with it.
- Who is this? - This is Jason.
I told Jason about the Haggleblass and he's begun his conversion.
Haven't you, buddy?
Can you give us a minute, Jason?
- Go on. - Fuck off. OK?
I know you do this just to make me stronger. I know it.
Chucky... I want you to listen to me, OK?
God made a mistake.
He wants you back the way you were.
God wants you to be an asshole.
So you can forget all this Haggleblassing.
He wants you to be your old jackass self again.
OK. This is a test. There's nothing that you could do...
.. to make me go back to my old self. Nothing.
Nothing, nothing...
No...
No! Fuck!
- That's what I'm talking about. - God!
- What's my name? - Fat ass bitch!
That's right! That's who you are, baby. That is who you are!
So here I was, sitting opposite my father,
my friend about to give him a poem encouraging him to let go of me forever.
And I thought things were twisted when I was alive.
I didn't mean the message to be dramatic.
I like drama.
I hope we're not pulling you away from your family.
That's OK. What did you want to talk about?
Charlotte wanted to give him a poem
and I wanted to ask him about his oldest daughter.
If he thought about me.
So the comedies next semester?
Fun, huh?
We just wanted to take you out to lunch.
What you say in your class really makes us think and we wanted to say thank you.
Charlotte was chickening out. I should have too.
But I was the only dead girl I knew who could get an answer.
So do you miss your daughter?
You know...
I think that poets do the world a favour by turning themselves inside out.
- I teach poetry. That's close enough. - You don't have to...
When she was younger...
.. we'd been very close.
I thought it was this bond that could never be broken,
but it was, almost effortlessly.
I knew that she had to grow and grow apart from me.
I had faith that if I just didn't meddle,
if I let her fly away,
eventually she would come back to me.
I didn't know that was all the time we'd have.
Jeez! God, I am sorry.
OK. Hang on.
Can I get a towel or something?
That's how my dad moved on -
with a little help from his friends.
My dad was right. Human beings are simple, predictable clichés.
Broken hearts, betrayal. It's all been done a billion times before.
The problem is every time still hurts like the first.
And if you're lucky enough to recover,
you can be sure that just as you finish filling in all the cracks in your life,
the next one is starting to open.
Subtitles: Sue Whitfield ww. broadcasttext. com
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