And to boot, there's the L- tryptophan. "L" what?
L- tryptophan. It's an amino acid found in, among other things, turkey.
It works as a sedative of sorts. Makes you feel good.
Oh, so what? Now we're drugged into enjoying Thanksgiving?
No, not at all, O'Connell. I'm only pointing out the irony.
I mean, who needs chemical assistance to make you feel good on Thanksgiving?
Turkey, pastrami, peanut butter...
it doesn't matter what's on the table.
It's the celebration that's so great.
I'm amazed, Fleischman. You actually have a capacity for pleasure.
Yeah, Thanksgiving, O'Connell? No, I love it.
It is the only holiday that's for everyone.
I mean, there's no theological strings attached.
Christians, Jews, Muslims, Moonies.
I mean, no one's left out in the cold. Yeah.
You know, one of the things that always intrigued me as a kid was the...
You probably did this, too. The tracing your hand and making a turkey?
Yeah. Yeah, and the brown crayon always wore out first.
Yeah. That had great significance for me as a kid.
I mean, there I was, I was this kid with little or no artistic ability...
not able to draw a stick, let alone a stick figure...
and here was this Thanksgiving turkey, and I made it.
I don't know, Fleischman. You, cheerful like this, is kind of creepy.
Hey, Dr. Fleischman! Hey, Ed. How's it going?
Really great. How about yourself?
Couldn't be better. Couldn't be better.
Happy Thanksgiving, Dr. Fleischman.
See you, bro. Bye, now.
I don't believe it.
It was so cold, so premeditated.
You should have seen him. He was smiling.
He was gleeful.
This is a Perry Ellis shirt!
I wore this shirt twice.
I'm walking down the street...
I greet him, I was cordial...
and next thing I know...
he ambushes me for no reason.
It's Thanksgiving. Yeah. Well, I know that.
That's why.
Why what?
Ed threw a tomato at me because it's Thanksgiving?
Uh-huh.
What could Thanksgiving possibly have to do with this unprovoked attack?
We don't celebrate We? like you.
Indians.
What are you talking about?
We have a lot of anger.
Anger? Uh-huh.
And so you throw tomatoes?
You throw fruit at people? At white people.
Wait a second, I'm to believe that this tomato was simply Ed's way...
of saying season's greetings? Uh-huh.
This is crazy. This is insane.
Why tomatoes? Why not grapefruit or papaya?
Tomatoes look like blood, but they don't hurt.
Let me tell you something, Marilyn.
Not only do I find this custom atavistic and reprehensible...
but Ed made a very serious mistake.
He got the wrong guy. An innocent bystander.
I'm not white! Yes, you are.
I may look white, but I am not. I am Jewish, okay? Jewish.
A fellow person of color. A victim of oppression.
Let me ask you something. Do you know what a shtetl is?
Reservation? Right. How'd you know that?
You told me. Pogrom?
Okay, well, for your information...
in Eastern Europe, in the pale of settlement...
Jews were herded into these squalid villages.
Shtetls? Yes, exactly.
We were ostracized, segregated...
and the Cossacks would ride through regularly, raping, pillaging and murdering.
So you see, Marilyn...
I may be a lot of things, but I'm not white. Definitely not white.
It's getting to be that day of the year, folks...
when the Grim Reaper meets Miles Standish...
and death's head pumpkins abound.
Yes, Cicely, we're fast approaching the fourth Thursday of November...
that Miss Sarah J. Hale promoted into the hallowed halls of holidayhood.
Thanksgiving.
Word of caution to all us white folks out there.
The tomatoes are starting to fly.
Whoa, Mike just got nailed.
We got good news from our meteorological friends over at the US Weather Service.
The official Indian Day of the Dead Parade...
and everybody's favorite follow-up feast will go according as scheduled...
barring any surprise appearances by uninvited Old Man Winter.
You know, it's hard not to become reflective...
in the three months leading up to the winter solstice. I mean...
if winter is slumber, and spring is birth, and summer is...
Summer's life, then autumn rounds out to be reflection.
It's a time of the year when the leaves are down...
and the harvest is in, and the perennials are gone.
Mother Earth just closed up the drapes on another year...
and it's time to reflect on what's come before...
and it sort of makes me feel...
I don't know.
How about Bugles?
You know, those little crunchy things that look like mini horns of plenty?
We could fill them with cream cheese or peanut butter.
Right. Now, what else? You know, last year our list was twice as long.
We have tortillas, plantains, lentils.
Sweet potatoes? Sweet potatoes. Got it.
Cannelloni. Right.
Cranberry sauce.
Cranberry sauce. How could I forget cranberry sauce?
Okay, cranberry sauce with walnuts, huh? Yeah.
Hi, Maggie. Hi, Shelly. Hi, Mike.
How you feeling?
Well, a train derailed north of Whitehorse yesterday.
Spilled a tank of chlorine. I got some edema.
But today, so far, so good.
Taco salad? Oh. Taco salad.
Taco salad? With fresh guacamole.
Is that for Thanksgiving? Mmm-hmm.
You should let me bring something.
I've got a bumper crop coming up at my place.
Snap peas, tubers, okra. You name it.
Do you have any spaghetti squash? Oh, yeah. Sure.
Bring lots. Holling scarfs it like beer nuts.
Order up. Oh, gotta roll.
Spaghetti squash. Okay.
Potatoes au gratin, risotto...
How do you feel about eggplant?
Is this a joke? No. No.
I've just got bushels of Japanese eggplant. You know, the little ones?
Oh. I was thinking, maybe...
well, you might like to come over...
and you and I, we could whip up a dish for the feast.
What do you say? How about it?
Eggplant parmigiana or maybe a salad.
Russian style. Tomatoes, onions.
Sure. I'd like that.
Good. Great.
Turkey club, extra mayo, side of fries.
Something wrong?
No, no. Everything's great. I just... I'm not hungry anymore now.
Stomach funky? No. No.
It's just this whole Thanksgiving thing. It's kind of...
put a squeeze on my psyche, you know?
I don't know how to describe it.
The Germans call it Weltschmerz. You know? It's...
But it's not that, it's like a longing. Like a yearning.
Like when you had the munchies...
for those chocolate mint Girl Scout cookies.
No, no. It's not a taste bud kind of thing.
Maybe booty. You been getting any?
Yeah. No, it's not a libido thing, you know?
It's like a place.
Place? Yeah.
Like you're homesick. Homesick? No, Shel, I'm not homesick.
How come?
Well, the old Stevens' humble abode was the flip side...
of Norman Rockwell, if you know what I mean, you know?
My daddy, he was never around.
And Mom had this heavy thing going with that twist-off cap wine, you know...
so she was flat on the couch most of the time. Except if...
she'd send me out for a pack of smokes, or... What about on Thanksgiving?
She switched to Asti Spumante.
You didn't even have turkey dinner?
Oh, yeah, yeah, we sort of did.
I mean, my dog, Buddy, and I, we'd sneak out...
go to the neighbor's trash, kind of sift through it, you know...
and get some good things sometimes, like...
stuffing, you know? Never got a wishbone.
Nobody'd be homesick for that.
Yeah. Well. Anyway, there's a hole in here...
that's big enough to toss a cat through.
Wow.
Here.
Hi, Ruth-Anne. Sorry, Dave, I'm all out of tomatoes.
How about canned? That, too.
Tomato sauce? Tomato paste?
Are you going to throw tomato paste at people?
No. It's for Holling. He's making marinara sauce.
Oh. I'll check.
Hey, Dave, let me ask you something.
I mean, you're an Indian. That's right, Dr. Fleischman.
Well, I can understand that you would harbor...
a certain amount of hostility toward white people.
Small pox, the Trail of Tears. I saw Dances with Wolves.
But do you really think that hurling tomatoes...
is an acceptable way to express that hostility?
It could be worse. Worse?
Baseball bats. Bicycle chains. Tire irons.
Yeah. I could only find these two, Dave.
That'll do. Thanks.
Am I the only one in Cicely who finds this barbaric behavior unsettling?
Probably.
This came for you, Joel. Registered mail.
In New York, people vent their frustration in civilized ways.
Like withholding damage deposit, or tipping 10%.
Sign here. State of Alaska?
Yeah, I noticed that.
I figured it must be your voter registration...
since Lowell Grippo got his yesterday.
Why would you get a voter registration...
if you vote in your home state by absentee ballot?
What? Bad news?
Another year? They say I owe them another year.
Who? The State of Alaska.
They say I owe them a fifth year of medical service.
Sneaky bastards. They can't do this.
We signed a contract. This is illegal. This is against the law.
Uh-uh.
Oh, if they think they're gonna get away with this, they got another thing coming.
I am gonna fight this.
Good for you. Oh, yeah.
I mean, they may be able to intimidate some people, not me.
Not this boy. No way. Not Joel Fleischman. I know my rights...
I know the law, and I know they can't do this.
You wait and see.
They are gonna be sorry they ever sent this. Very, very sorry.
Nice balance. Heavy.
Beefsteak? Better Boy.
Too bad the Early Girls are all gone. They were very, very juicy.
No, these are excellent.
Firm. And a good grip.
Uh-uh, guys.
I know what you're thinking. I know it. Forget it. Just keep moving, thank you.
Don't even try it.
Joel, that modified terfenadine, it worked wonders.
The rhinorrhea, it cleared up immediately.
Yeah? Yeah? Look at this. Oh.
I mean, do you believe this? They are trying to screw me out of another year.
I want to put you on immediate retainer.
And I don't care how many hours it takes. Cost is no object.
Here's my original contract.
You and me, Mike, we are gonna nail these bureaucrats to the wall.
We are gonna eviscerate them.
Joel. The paper. I have a problem with the paper.
The formaldehyde. I need my gloves.
Oh, I'll hold it, you read.
My idea, and then, of course, I want your advice on this.
We hit them fast with a lawsuit.
Not only do we get them to overrule the extension...
we get them to reduce or even cancel the original terms.
Might even be able to get some damages.
I mean, these SOBs won't know what hit them.
Hmm. What?
"Wherein, the applicant hereby agrees to repay in full the loan amount agreed upon. "
Blah, blah, blah.
"Now, therefore, the party of the first part has agreed...
"to the aforementioned compensatory terms and all variables...
"connected to said terms where applicable. See paragraph four. "
It's nothing but legal harassment. It's intimidation.
This is like a bald manipulation of the law! Isn't it?
No. Not exactly.
This contract was drawn up in '86.
Yeah. So? So what? Well, it's in '86 dollars.
What difference does that make?
Well, one of the variables they alluded to is the cost of living increase.
It's mentioned here in paragraph four.
Which automatically increases your stay here in Alaska accordingly.
What? Inflation, Joel.
The dollar just isn't worth today what it was in '86.
Hence your fifth year. Where? Where does it say this?
Right there, at the bottom of the page.
What, this? This? You can't even read this!
Did you consult an attorney?
No. No, I did not consult an attorney. I didn't think to consult an attorney.
Mmm-hmm. We're gonna fight this, aren't we, Mike?
Mike, tell me we're gonna fight this, please.
Well... What are you saying?
Are you saying that... Joel...
we don't have a leg to stand on.
There's just no case. Sorry.
Hi, Randy, Melissa! Happy Thanksgiving!
Hi, Ruth-Anne. Hi, honey.
I need some spot remover. Well, you sure do.
They really nailed you. It's all squishy.
You know, I really adore this time of the year.
The skeletons, and the tomatoes, and the death's head pumpkins.
And if it all means a little more laundry for us white folks...
I think that's a small enough price to pay for a wonderful holiday.
Go easy. This is the last one in stock. Thanks.
Oh, listen, don't forget to bring your skull and crossbones cookie cutter...
to the big baking thing tonight. All right.
Let's see. Here you go.
Why don't we make sugar cookies in the shape of gravestones?
Neato. See you. Bye.
Ruth-Anne? What?
You always stock these beans, or you just get these in?
The Orthopedic Hospital in Kagamil went out of business.
And I got a good deal on their canned goods.
Orange lights. I beg your pardon?
Four hundred guys all eating in one big room...
the clink of industrial silverware...
and 2% milk in tin cups.
Getting on into the winter months.
You know, the sun would always go down by suppertime.
So we had to eat by those big, old orange sodium lights.
Sodium lights?
I'm afraid I don't follow you.
Prison, Ruth-Anne. I'm talking about when I was in prison.
These were the beans. Every Tuesday, every Thursday...
these babies had a place in the corner triangle of my tray.
That's what I've been missing. I've been missing the joint.
You have? Yes.
I'm gonna take all these, okay? Well, sure.
Hey! Hey! Come on.
Let her rip. Let me have it.
Yeah. Go ahead, splatter me with tomatoes. I don't care.
What? What are you waiting for?
Hey, it's open season on Joel Fleischman! Come on!
You gonna throw them, or what?
Now, item number five. What kind of pyrotechnics...
if any, will be used during the Day of the Dead procession?
That includes flash pots, smoke bombs, that sort of thing.
Marilyn...
my volunteer fire brigade has got to be kept abreast of these things.
Maybe some fire crackers. Right.
"Recreational explosive devices. " I got you.
Fleischman.
You look like you got up on the wrong side of the bunk this morning, son.
You need a razor. Go buy one.
Congratulations, Maurice. Huh?
Touché. Check and mate. I bow before you in defeat.
What in the hell is he babbling about? He has to stay another year.
Oh, no kidding? Yeah.
Must give you great satisfaction.
You who have taken such a personal interest in my servitude.
Well, how about that. A fifth year.
That's right, Maurice, five long years.
Half a decade. One sixth of my entire life.
But, I mean, hey, why stop there? It was just my youth, my freedom.
I mean, why not have everything? Yeah, here, take my tie.
While you're at it, why don't you grab my stethoscope? How about that, huh?
I mean, take everything, Maurice. I mean, there's plenty. Huh? Huh?
Come on, Fleischman, suck it up. This is degrading.
How about the jacket off my back, maybe?
I mean, you might as well have everything. Marilyn.
And cruise by my house, Maurice. Grab my TV and, yeah, don't forget my toaster!
And my socks! You want those, don't you?
Might as well have my socks! How about my underwear?
You want my belt, Maurice? Huh?
Here you go! I got it right here! Huh?
With the nitrogen-rich compost and the long days up here...
the gardening is just incredible.
I love fresh dill. Smell this.
Mmm. Yeah.
You know, I've got lots of basil, so if you'd like to take some home.
Okay.
Oh, no, no, no. Look, I'll dice the onions.
But I don't mind. No, no, I insist.
Really, you do the dill.
Oh.
You know, I have not cooked with a man in...
Wow, well, it's been at least a year and a half.
Me, too. I mean, it's, you know, been...
at least that long since I was in a kitchen with a woman.
Yeah.
Look, if I'm not dicing this the way you like, you just tell me, okay?
Oh, no, no, that's great. That's perfect.
You know, I've always felt that cooking alone is like eating alone.
Lonely. Yeah.
Hmm.
You know, when my autoimmune system recovers...
the two of us could make strudel.
Hmm. I love strudel.
Well, it's a lot easier with two people.
Oh. Sorry. No.
Oh, dear, it was an accident, it was an accident.
No. It's okay, it's okay.
Mike?
Nothing. Are you sure?
You shouldn't have been out so long without the spacesuit.
No. Oh, wait, maybe it was me.
I used toothpaste this morning. I knew I should have used baking soda.
No. It's the onions. Definitely the onions.
I think.
And the next morning I wake up...
and there's that same little tickle right here...
and when I heave it up off the bunk...
why sure enough, the wheezing starts all over again.
And right on the heels of that comes the coughing.
And the pressure right up behind my nose.
Yes, just like before. Right.
Only this time, it feels like somebody put a curling stone right on my chest here...
'cause when I try to take a deep breath, like so.
I only get half way. Well, what about the amantadine?
You should still have a week left, based on the prescription I gave you.
Oh, I stopped taking it. You what?
I stopped. You stopped?
Well, once I was feeling my old self again.
Oh, you just thought you would disregard my instructions?
Sorry?
Here I am, I am shanghaied, I am pressed into service.
A physician in chains for whom imbeciles like you don't even listen to me.
Well, I- Dolts, simpletons, dullards...
who think their name could just as well be stenciled on that window outside as mine.
I didn't mean - Let's give it one more try, shall we? Okay.
I'll write the prescriptions, and you take the medicine.
Is that simple enough? Something that pea-sized brain of yours can handle?
I think so. Well, good. Get out of here.
Go on. I don't wanna look at you.
Hello? Scram! Thank you.
You. Yeah, you, bookworm.
Another plantar wart I suppose, right?
Come on. Get in there.
Go. Move. Come on.
Go on, get your shoes off.
Hey, Fleischman. You Fleischman?
Yeah.
I'm Sisyphus. This is a rock. Give you a couple of pointers.
Sisyphus? Always start pushing with your knees...
bent to a squat. It takes the pressure off your lower back.
Sisyphus? The Sisyphus?
Once you get to the top there, get the hell out of the way.
This sucker comes rolling back down like a runaway train.
Well, hold it. I'm supposed to push the rock up the hill?
Why me? Why do I have to do it? You're my replacement.
What?
Hey!
If you think this is bad, check out Prometheus.
How'd you like some vultures ripping out your liver every day?
Come back! Or worse yet...
they could send you to Alaska. Think about that, Fleischman.
Wait, I can't do this! It's too heavy!
Adiós, Fleischman. Wait. Come back!
Hey, Michael. Hi, Maggie. Please, have a seat.
Your clothes. It wasn't just the onions.
No, I'm afraid the air quality's taken a turn for the worst.
I don't know if it's anything to be concerned about.
Hi, Maggie. What can I get you?
What are you having? Watercress tea.
Purified by reverse osmosis. Well, I'll have some of that.
After you left, out of the blue, paroxysmal sneezing, a slight fever.
Maybe you just overdid it. You know, the cooking, the gardening.
No, no, it's definitely a reaction to some petrochemical of some sort.
I figure the cause has gotta be in here somewhere.
Maybe a spill or something.
Don Lewis! That big butthead.
Sorry? I saw him changing the oil on his Gremlin.
He bled the crankcase right into the street.
Oh, I don't think that would really be enough to do it.
Maybe it's latent effects from Prince William Sound.
Is this something I should be getting totally freaked out about?
Yes, we all should. But I wouldn't freak out about it right now.
Well, for a while, at least.
Still, until whatever this is blows over, you might wanna...
just not do so many outdoor activities.
Tennis, volleyball. Oh, jeez.
I gotta go. I'm expecting a fax...
from the National Meteorological Association.
Listen, Shelly, if you do start feeling any pressure behind your jaw...
or up here in your temples, I'd suggest staying indoors.
Keep your heart rate down, and detox your system a little.
Okay.
See you.
Get up.
Light. Why? It's 9:00.
Big deal.
You're a mess. So what?
Who cares?
What difference does it make?
Some coffee, please. I'm busy.
Fine.
Where are the filters? In the cabinet.
Right.
What is that? My costume.
Your costume? For the parade.
Oh. For the parade. Right. Thanksgiving parade.
Let me ask you something.
For the Indians up here...
Thanksgiving is also the Day of the Dead.
A time for mourning, right? Because of white people.
Uh-huh. So...
I don't understand. Why the parade?
The costumes? The music?
Dancers.
Yeah. Why the celebration?
You don't know the story? No, I guess I don't.
Sit.
Death, like the white man...
wasn't happy in his own land.
He didn't think his kingdom was big enough.
He wanted more.
One night, when the Good Spirit was asleep, Death attacked the world.
He killed a lot of people.
And he took the chief's prettiest daughter as his bride.
She pretended to be a good wife.
But one day, she secretly fed him a pumpkin seed.
The pumpkin grew and grew inside Death.
Finally, he exploded...
and a million pumpkin seeds covered the earth.
Well, I still don't get it. A lot of people died.
But a good thing came out of it, too.
What was that?
Pumpkins.
It's the same with white people.
They cleared the forest, they dug up the land...
and they gave us the flu.
But they also brought power tools and penicillin.
And Ben & Jerry's ice cream.
You know about Ben and Jerry's ice cream? I've seen ads.
Mike, I got your groceries.
Great, Ed. Come on in.
Ruth-Anne sent along some chicken soup, too.
She thought it might make you feel better.
Great. It's the good stuff.
Clarified broth, no sodium, no fat...
no MSGs. Sounds like a treat.
Oh, it is. So how are things going?
Well, I thought I'd nailed down the cause of my symptoms.
Oh, great. Not so great.
See, two and a half months ago...
a tanker ran aground off of Koshun, Taiwan.
It caused a huge, massive benzene spill. But...
But what?
But Hong Kong CNN reported that the toxic cloud...
dissipated almost immediately.
So most of what was left was in the sea.
Meaning the Kuroshio Current...
would have carried the toxins straight to us across the Pacific.
Oh. Which explains why you're not feeling well.
Yes, it would, except...
according to my calculations, any residue from that spill...
would have passed the Alaskan coast weeks ago.
What's it from, then? I don't know.
I don't have the faintest idea.
Hmm.
Now, if you'll excuse me, Ed, I've got a lot of work to do.
Oh, sure.
Say, Mike, are you gonna be feeling well enough to come down for the big parade?
I'm sorry, Ed. But I don't think that's possible.
Hmm.
See you. See you. Happy Thanksgiving.
Got a message today, via some tin cans...
and dig this, there wasn't even any string hooking them up.
They helped me recall that it was behind bars...
amongst 400 cons, that I enjoyed the best Thanksgiving of my life.
Me and the other guys, we filed in from the yard...
those of us that weren't in solitary.
And got in a big old line outside the dining hall.
As we filed through the chow line...
we got to take as big a helping as we wanted 'cause...
I guess even in the calabazoo...
Warden Viglietta recognized the need for overindulgence...
on that day of all days.
We had plastic plates just brimming with pressed turkey...
and sweet potatoes and green beans.
After a brief interruption...
when one of the new guys tried to swipe a cleaver from the kitchen...
Joey King George got up on a chair...
and he recited a passage from Pilgrim's Progress.
"A man there was, tho' some did count him mad...
"the more he cast away the more he had. "
And, man, we just all dug in.
And Joey King's punk, Junior the Weatherman, broke out a jug of Apple Jack...
that he'd been fermenting since the Fourth of July.
And we passed that along under the table, spiking our cider...
whenever we were free from watching eyes.
I remember that, Dog Hansen actually got a little whacked on the stuff.
He stabbed a guy just for pinching his yams.
Little Billie Bowdner tried to get a round of Christmas carols going...
even though it was a month early.
The mellow sweetness of a pumpkin pie off of a prison spoon...
is something that you will never forget.
Morning, Marilyn. Morning, Holling.
I'd best tell you that Joel is in there, and he's acting mighty strange.
I came over to get an elastic bandage for my trick knee...
and Joel was under the desk.
He's just sitting in there under his desk.
And when I asked him what was the matter, he told me to go.
And, Marilyn, he is smelling a bit ripe.
I know.
Go away.
I said, go away.
Oh. It's you.
What time is it? 8:30.
Well, that would make it three years...
nine months, one week...
and seven hours that I'm forced to remain here.
But, hey, what's an hour in the face of despair?
Or a day? Or a month?
Nothing. They're not yours to spend, they're just words.
Labels for big empty spaces that run together like...
Like taffy.
Don't take this personally, Marilyn...
but I'm not going to be able to attend your Thanksgiving parade.
I mean, it would be the slightest bit hypocritical...
seeing as how I have absolutely nothing to be thankful for.
Not a thing. What?
No hope. You have no hope left.
Yeah, that's right. No hope.
No hope at all.
You can march with us.
Really? I thought it was, like, "Indians only" kind of deal.
Well, you're not white anymore.
On this official turkey day, ladies and birds...
we have another ground-breaking event for you.
The first ever tie-in to the lower 48th.
Now, just hang on a second while I hook up my home away from home...
the State Pen, nestled along the Ohio River...
and the wooded hills of wild, wonderful West Virginia.
Warden Viglietta? Yes, it is, Chris.
Whoa, we have contact! Happy T-day, Warden.
Well, thanks, Chris. You're keeping your nose clean, I trust.
Oh, yes, sir, Warden, I am. Good to hear it.
Now, I just want to make it clear, if I hear inappropriate language...
of any kind coming over this line, I'm pulling the plug immediately.
No ifs, ands or buts, understand?
You got it, Warden Viglietta. All right.
Hello? Stevens, you there?
Roach? Hey, man! Hey, man!
Chris-o, guess who? Billie.
Yeah. yeah!
Oh, you guys sound great, man. What's happening?
What's been going on since I left the nest?
Oh, same old, same old.
The State denied Yano's parole again...
so he's just sitting around, ticked off...
folding paper airplanes and not talking to anybody, you know?
Yeah, same old Yancey, huh? Yeah.
Oh, and Lonnie Pearl's in solitary two straight weeks now.
No kidding? Lonnie the Lamb? Yeah. He got caught with a shiv under his mattress.
Some lamb, huh?
What about Joey King? George?
Yeah, yeah. Oh, he's out of here. Finally went state's evidence.
Oh, wise move.
I've been thinking about you guys a lot, and I just...
I can't tell you how great it is to hear you again.
Oh, you, too, bud.
Roach, just tell me about Thanksgiving dinner today. How was it?
Oh, great cream of spinach, man!
Hi, Mike. Hello, Maggie.
Ed tells me you aren't planning on attending the festivities?
Well, I'm afraid he's right.
Well, I know the parade could get a little long...
but not even the feast, huh? Yeah, well, I've stabilized a little...
but ingesting contaminants at this point...
that could send me off the deep end all over again.
In fact, I really should be inside now.
With the prevailing winds, this mask doesn't offer much protection.
You know, I can make you something special.
Crudités, with vegetables from your garden?
Turkey broth, unseasoned?
I don't think so. Thanks.
Hmm.
Tracking more air currents? No, no, not really.
I've tried all my usual channels, and I still can't...
I can't seem to isolate what's hit me, so...
Well... Yeah?
Maggie, I'm gonna have to relocate.
Move? From Cicely?
Oh.
You know, actually, I've done pretty well all in all.
You know, three months is the longest...
I've been able to stick it out anywhere...
so, you know, I really consider this almost a success.
Where would you go? Believe me, I don't want to leave.
You know, far from it.
Mike. Greenland.
Greenland?
It seemed like a more hospitable climate than Antarctica.
But then again, they do have a permanent research base set up at Halley Bay. So...
well, at least I'd have neighbors.
I see.
If you think about it, Greenland's really not that far away.
You're a pilot. I mean, if you were ever up that way...
I certainly hope that you'd come and see me.
Mike.
I really don't see any reason why we still can't be friends.
You know. Good friends.
Don't.
Don't what?
Don't go. Please.
I don't want you to go.
Hey, that little corpse there, that one there without the head...
isn't that Dave's boy? Uh-huh.
Isn't the makeup bitching? Everybody looks so dead.
Every year it gets better and better.
The vultures. They're new this year, aren't they?
Yeah, I think they are. Nice touch.
Hey, look at Joel! It is him!
Looks like a big, old, grumpy bear. Really.
Hey, Dr. Fleischman. Ed.
Are we having fun?
No. Not particularly.
Oh. Well, I'll see you later.
Mike? Hello, Maggie.
I didn't think I was going to see you.
Yeah. Well, I...
Look!
Here you go.
Oh, these'll be a hit.
If I'd known you were coming, I would have made something special for you.
How about this rice? Though I'm not sure about the saffron.
I know I'm gonna pay for this.
But what the hell.
May I have a drumstick, please?
Thank you.
How about some of those candied yams.
Candied yams.
Is this seat free, Dr. Fleischman? Yeah, sure, Ed.
Oh. This was good today. It was...
Cathartic? Yeah.
Yeah. Well, maybe for you. Say, let me have those sweet potatoes, would you?
Sure.
You wanna know something, Ed? Sure.
Check this out. Convicted felons, right?
Armed robbers, drug dealers, killers do less time than me.
The stuffing, please. Murder one, for instance.
First time offender, good behavior, guy's out in four years.
James Cagney, White Heat.
We're talking about someone who lay in wait to take another person's life.
Excuse me. Can I have the dark meat, please?
But me, whose only crime is not having the tuition for medical school...
I will do hard time every minute of it.
Gravy? Yeah.
Armed robbery, felonious assault, two, three years, max.
That's good. Yeah, it is.