The Caveman's Valentine

Don't you watch me!

You think you're going to crawl into my brain and see a show?

Is that what I am? Is that what you think?

What I think, Mr. Ledbetter, is the temperature's dropping.

Well, I got legions of angels up here, like little moths,

and they're going to beat the hell out of you with their wings.

Freaks.

I'm gonna crap you out, Stuyvesant!

- Who-Who's Stuyvesant? - You're Stuyvesant.

I'm not Stuyvesant.

- I'm with the department of social services. - No, you're a zit...

on Stuyvesant's ass, but you're Stuyvesant just the same.

You're all Stuyvesant. Tell him...

don't send no more no-face errand boys to catch me, 'cause I hear ya coming.

I hear your chains, clink, clink. You sound like defeat.

You even smell like defeat. You smell like,

like degradation.

Happy Valentine's Day, Caveman.

Hey, yo, Caveman. Give us a fucking tirade, yo.

Yo, what's that fucker Stuyvesant up to, man?

Help you? I don't know you.

No, no, no. You on your own, son.

You got your troubles, I got mine.

Do I look like I can help you, huh?

Help you? I don't even know who the fuck you are.

All right, Michael, thank you.

Mr.? Mr.? Got a pencil?

A pencil? What do you want a pencil for?

I wanna balance it on the end of my nose.

You want to write something?

I got a pen.

Hey, keep it. What the hey, right?

Can I ask what you're writing there?

You want your pen back?

No, no, no. It's okay.

- You a musician or a... - Mm-hmm.

- What do you play? - My skull.

- I used to play piano. - You had a piano, huh?

There were a great many at the school I attended.

- What school did you go to? - Julliard.

Julliard?

You went to Julliard, huh?

How the hell did you wind up here?

I'm here because that bastard wants me here.

What bastard?

Don't play stupid. The bastard that lives in that tower.

He sits in his tower, and he watches.

And what he sees, he doesn't like.

I mean, it curls his stinking, rancid blood what he sees.

And what he sees is a free man!

That old Stuyvesant, you know what he says to that?

He says, "We're gonna crush that nigger.

Oh, yeah, send some Y-rays that nigger's way. "

Don't back off, pinstripes, you fucking coward.

Stuyvesant's gone and laced your mind with Y-rays.

You're living like a jackrabbit.

Oh, yeah, run, Stuyvesant. But I see ya.

Stuyvesant!

You see me? Well, I see you right fucking back!

What lies are you telling us now?

- Yep? - Lulu, listen to me.

- Romulus? - Stuyvesant killed someone.

Where's he calling from?

- Tell her I'm home. - He got a phone in that cave now?

Tell her, my home is not a mansion, but it suits me fine.

He freezes to death, I'm not paying for his funeral.

She says - I heard her. Listen, Lulu,

this time I've got the evidence.

You do, huh?

There's a body outside my cave.

That's rough, Rom. Listen, I just pulled a night shift.

I am sound asleep.

Please, child. Please, just come on over.

I know what you're thinking.

But this dead thing he left outside my cave, it's real.

It's so shiny real, it hurts the eyes.

...believed to be another victim of the Arctic cold wave.

The dead man was identified as Scott Gates, 20 years old,

unemployed and homeless.

Oh, that sucked. Can I go again?

A young man has been found frozen to death here in Inwood Park.

You saw this no-face prop the body in the tree? That's right.

But you were in there in your bed the whole time?

How'd you see all this?

I told you, I saw it on my TV.

What kind of shows you get on that TV?

All of them. The whole heady broth of American culture, right?

- You get cable? - Lieutenant.

Can I talk to you for a moment? Yeah, sure.

Look, I know this guy.

I've seen him around. He's completely delusional.

- Why don't we just... - Get your hands off her!

Take it easy, pal, we're just having a little chat.

Don't touch my daughter, squashface. Ever!

Your daughter?

This man is your father?

Why didn't you say something?

Maybe I don't meet her momentous expectations.

But I'm still a witness. I know who the murderer is. Now you write it!

Write what? The name of the murderer, which you already know.

- Cornelius Gould Stuyvesant, now write it! - Daddy!

Tell him to write it.

I can't tell him anything, he's my boss.

Hey, what the hell, pal, that's the way I like 'em, open and shut.

How do you spell Stuyvesant?

You know how to spell it.

Aah!

Go ahead and kill me. For Christ's sake, Rom.

- I'm dead already. - Matthew?

- It's you who found him, wasn't it? - Found who?

Scotty.

He knew they were going to kill him.

Matthew, you're shivering. I don't care.

You're too cold. I loved him, Rom.

I wanna die too.

Okay. Okay.

Not right now, okay?

Come on.

They killed him, Rom. He was just too beautiful for them.

Ah, God, Rom, wasn't... wasn't he beautiful?

He was dead when I saw him.

Yeah, but... you met him.

The dead kid? I don't think so.

Well, he knew you.

He said you weren't afraid to speak the truth.

No shit, Rom.

He called you "The Voice. "

- He did? - He was just a kid.

He was fucking innocent till that bastard got his fucking hands on him.

Stuyvesant?

David Leppenraub.

- Who? - David Leppenraub.

Don't you know, Rom? The photographer?

I mean, he's fucking famous. He does these pictures of angels,

and everyone's always going on about how beautiful Leppenraub's angels are.

And, yeah, they're beautiful because they're Scotty.

Scotty was Leppenraub's model?

He was his fucking slave.

He was so ashamed of the pictures, he wouldn't even show them to me.

That bastard took him up to his farm, tortured him,

got him strung out on dope.

He-He even branded him, Rom.

He burned a heart on Scotty's ass.

And then when he was done with him, he threw him away, like a fucking piece of trash.

I found him on the street like that, you know?

I didn't care.

He was still beautiful.

He was beautiful to me.

But he couldn't let it go, you know? All the shit that happened to him.

He kept telling me that he had this tape of the torture.

He was going to get a bunch of money from Leppenraub for it.

That's what got him killed.

You tell the cops this, Matthew?

Come on, Rom, look at me.

Who do you think they're going to believe, huh?

Me?

Or the great David Leppenraub?

What sins have you committed?

Y- rays.

They're listening.

There's nothing you can do, Matthew.

You and me, we're too small. He knows that.

He likes that.

You know him? You know Leppenraub?

I don't have to know him.

I know the man he works for.

You have any-any sins to confess, my child?

Come on, Rom, I feel ridiculous enough.

You can call me Daddy, no one listening.

So what are we doing here, Daddy?

Suppose I-I told you I knew who killed Scotty Gates?

You did tell me and my boss.

Just-Just hear me out.

Suppose I told you that Scotty Gates was killed by a very famous artist?

And suppose I found a way to slip you his name? David Leppenraub?

You-You know about Leppenraub?

Apparently, everybody knows about Leppenraub.

Scotty Gates was going all over town crying how Leppenraub had abused him.

So what? I think the same thing about my employer.

He told everyone he was going to get revenge.

So, Lieutenant Cork made a call, and Leppenraub said, yeah...

Gates had tried to blackmail him,

and he politely told Scotty to go to hell.

Ya, and then he politely murdered him.

- There's no evidence of that. - Hell, there's a body in the tree.

Daddy, Gates was a nutcase. No offense.

But he was running around in the middle of winter with no shirt on.

Everyone thought he was going to freeze to death.

We think it's reasonable for us to assume that that's what happened.

Very, v-very reasonable, except for one thing.

- What's that? - He was murdered.

Daddy, you live in a cave.

You watch the news on a TV that's plugged into nothing.

You think there's a guy on top of a tower that's trying to take over the world.

You're not well. Why don't you let me get you some help?

And just who would you get to help me, Lulu?

Just-Just who you got in mind for your old man?

Rom, I-I got to get back to work.

That what you call it, Lulu? You call that work?

Terrorizing innocent people while murderers roam the streets like rats, huh?