It's a fuse box.
Just trash.
Green ooze.
That door leads back into what looks like an alleyway, behind the theater.
There something wrong with the power in that box, and it looks like the theater marquee is connected to the same switch. It keeps flickering on and off.
The box office is closed.
"A Welsh Ghost Story", written and directed by Ragnar Tornquist. I saw that, it's a classic.
"Women in Dire Need of Medical Attention". I thought that was a porno, but I guess it's just an artsy foreign flick. As long as they speak French, it can't be smut.
"Bergman festival at the Mercury Theater. Opens August 1st 2209". That's on Tuesday. Sounds interesting. Maybe I'll go.
Mercury. They left out the "theater" bit, but maybe that's self-explanatory.
"Casablanca". That's with John Wayne and Katherine Hepburn, I think. They play a married couple who adopt a baby leopard during World War II. It's a timeless classic.
"The Maltese Falcon". Oh, yeah, I remember this one. It's a Disney cartoon about a falcon who, uh, goes looking for a black cauldron. It's got singing mice in it, I think. I mean, don't they all?
Mercury.
That guy's so conspicuous, he's got to be a cop on a stakeout assignment.
He's definitely a detective on a stakeout.
This guy looks like he works at the theater.
Freddie Melon.
Not as long as that detective's hanging around.
(sniffs)
Smells like kerosene.
It's locked.
Nah.
Excuse me?
Yes'm?
Hi.
What can I do for ya, miss?
Do you know a man called Cortez?
No, I can't say as I does, lady. Ain't never met 'im. Now, I reckon I'd like to get on with my sweepin', ah-huh.
Is the theater open now?
No, I reckon it ain't, lady. It don't open 'till this evenin'. Ain't nobody in there either. I reckon that wouldn't be legal.
Do you work at the theater?
Yes'm. I'm Freddie. Freddie Melon. My Mama, Missus Dottie Melon, she owns the theater. Yup, I reckon she does, ah-huh.
But I'm supposed to meet him here. Are you sure you don't know him?
Look, lady, I reckon you should just mind your own bee's knee's and git. I tole you, I ain't seen Cortez today.
You said you didn't know Cortez.
I reckon I don't know nobody by that name, so I tell you what, I'd mighty appreciate it if you'd stop bothering me and let me git on with my work.
Thanks anyway.
Jesus, Mary and Baby Joseph -- I reckon the whole dang world wants to find Cortez today.
Yes'm. I tell you what, you go on now and let Freddie Melon do his sweepin' before his Mama Missus Dottie Melon get all p-i-s-t off.
I'm the usher, and I also takes care of sweepin' and cleanin' up after the show.
And what do you do, sir?
She owns it, and she be runnin' it by her own self, like a real proprietor. I reckon I help out some, of course. Yup.
My Mama, Missus Dottie Melon, she say she reckon I'm a reg'lar Jack-of-all-trades. I tell you what, I think she's right about that 'un. Ah-huh.
Good. Now stay that way, y'hear?
I said to leave it be!
Don't you litter my floor, mister.
Hee-hee. I ain't never seen anythang that funny in a while.
Dang marquee! Light up!
Lady, don't you keep playin' with that thing now, y'hear? Leave it be.
Don't you litter my floor now, y'hear? I wouldn't like that at all.
Hey, what-- What the hell do you think you're doin'? Did you just throw a rock at my head? Now, I tell you what, you shouldn't have done that. I reckon that was a bad mistake.
Hee-hee, you shoulda seen him run, lady. I reckon I ain't never seen nobody run that fast. And he was clutchin' at his buttocks, like he had the runs or sumthin'. He even lost his stupid old hat in the gutter.
Ah jeez, hold on there one second, lady.
Ouch!
Hell, it gone dead on me now. I'm goin' have to fix that sign proper this time 'round, ah-huh. I just need me a ladder and some tools from the basement...
Hi there. Having fun?
Didn't your mother teach you not to talk to strangers?
Hello again.
Christ, don't you ever quit? What is it now?
Yeah, she did.
She never mentioned anything about that.
I'm an orphan.
Yeah? Well, all the more reason for you not to talk to strangers. Now, get lost.
Then what are you doing here? Get lost.
She should have. Now, get lost.
Are you on the job?
On the job? What do you mean, "on the job"?
You know, an assignment. Stakeout. Undercover operation.
I suggest you get the hell outta here now, ma'am, before things get...ugly.
Was that a threat? Are you threatening me?
Yes I am.
Why are you dressed like a cop?
What do you mean, why am I dressed like a-- Wait a second, what's it to you?
Just trying to do my bit for the boys in blue, sir. You look like a cop, so if you're on a stakeout or something, you should try to blend in a little more. Go native.
Yeah? How?
I dunno, but that trenchcoat? It sort of gives it away. Perhaps a pair of blue jeans and one of those "I'm With Stupid" T-shirts might help?
Hold on, lemme get this down right n-- Wait a second, what am I doing? Who the hell do you think you are?
NPD fashion consultant?
Is that supposed to be funny, ma'am? Are you a comedian or something? Because I'm not laughing. I'm not even smiling, am I? Now, get your ass outta here, and don't bother me again.
Is that a threat?
You're damn right it's a threat.
So you just had lunch?
That's right. At Kool Kow.
What did you have?
A Triple Whammy Kow Patty with a side order of Greaseonions and a large Bingo Cola, no ice.
What about fries?
And a double order of Cheesums Fried Taters, yeah. Tastiest damn fries you're ever likely to find. Soaking in melted goat cheese.
And you had this when?
Oh, about an hour ago.
And you don't feel, uh, the urge? To go?
No, ma'am. My bowels are genetically enhanced and require only perfunctory attention.
The burger filled you up good? You don't have the munchies?
Well...now that you mention it, I have a craving for sweets.
What was it you wanted again?
Something sweet and chewable to drown the bitter taste of boredom, ma'am. Now, scram.
Wait a second. What am I telling you all this for? Who the hell are you, anyway? Get outta here, ma'am, right this minute, or else...
Is that a threat? I think that was a threat.
A very serious one, ma'am.
Don't you get tired of hanging around here all day long?
No, ma'am.
So you're completely fine. There's nothing you'd want.
That's right.
Nothing at all?
Nothing at all.
Not even a bite to eat?
Just had a full lunch, ma'am. Thanks for asking.
I didn't have time for my usual Kool Kow Strawberry Pie with whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and a scoop of ice cream.
Hey, keep your hands to yourself. That's city property, ma'am.
Don't even think about it.
Would you like a candy?
Hey! Yeah. That'll hit the spot.
Care for another?
Hey, sure, fuggedaboutit.
What the hell-- That taste...sickening...I feel kinda-- Oh, Christ!
