| Episode begins in Tim's backyard. The backyard is covered with snow and it is a
bit windy. Heidi, Tim and Al are taping the show. |
|---|
| | |
| Heidi: | Welcome to "Tool Time" on location. Here we are, in Tim's very own
backyard. [The "Tool Time" music plays] |
| Tim & Al: | It's Storm Watch '98. [Tim makes some gestures towards the crew and
the wind stops] |
| Tim: | Hi, I am Tim "The Weather Man" Taylor, and of course you all know my
assistant, "Al Niño" [Al salutes] Borland. |
| Al: | That's right. [Tim starts making some windy whistling sounds] And we're
here to show you how to protect your house and property from the
ravages of a winter storm. [Tim looks towards the camera, makes the
cutting gesture again and stops whistling] |
| Tim: | It's gonna be a long winter. Al's mom saw her shadow. This is hard to
do, cuz she can't see her feet at this point, can't she? [Tim looks at
his feet and pretends to walk like Al's mom] Ooh, ooh. |
| Heidi: | [Holding a weather map] And later in the week, we expect a huge storm
to hit our area. |
| Tim: | That's right. [Tim runs his hand over the map as he talks] There's cold
front cruising across the Great Plains, that's gonna collide with the
North-Easter from the South-West, causing severely precipitous weather.
And a small craft advisory. |
| Al: | [Directly into the camera] In other words, it's going to be windy. [Tim
slaps Al's arm. Al goes a step away from the camera again] Now a storm
can be devastating, but there are some precautions you can use to
protect your property. |
| Tim: | Right. Especially those living along the lakes. [Al goes towards the
house] You want to tie down and secure anything that might cause some
damage. First thing-- [Al comes back holding one end of a rope which he
ties around Tim] Ha ha ha ha. Gee Al, funny as always. [Tim removes the
rope] Alright, we've already had a very bad ice storm this year. What
we want to do now [Tim goes over to the trees] to prevent further
damage is prune some of these trees. |
| Al: | That's right. You want to cut back any rotting or dead wood. [Al hands
Tim a chain saw] |
| Tim: | Right. Or you can recycle that dead wood and build yourself an
assistant. [Heidi smiles. Tim climbs up the ladder onto the tree] |
| Al: | Now in some areas the wind is going to get as high as 60 miles per
hour, so it's also a good idea to protect your windows by putting up
three-quarter-inch plywood. |
| Cut to Tim standing up in the tree |
|---|
| Tim: | Hey guys. Holy moly guys, you ought to see this branch near Wilson's
house. It's a disaster waiting to happen. It's got, uh, stress-cracks
in it. Big ones. Very, er, [The branch Tim is standing on starts to
crackle] very similar to the ones I got on this branch here. |
| [The branch breaks off. Tim crashes through the gazebo and lands sitting up on
the swing, lowering the bench to ground level. Al and Heidi run over to
him] |
| Tim: | We'll be right back with some gazebo repair
tips. |
| | |
| [Opening credits] |
|---|
| | |
| Cut to the gazebo, a few seconds later. |
|---|
| | |
| Al: | Are you sure you're alright? |
| Tim: | Yes Al. A big splinter under my butt broke my
fall. |
| Al: | O.K., well here, uh let me give you a hand with that. [Tim and Al lift
up some broken part of the swing] I guess we'll just, er-- [Al sees
a plastic bag that is taped to the underside of it] Hey, what's this?
[Al removes the bag] |
| Tim: | What's what, Al? |
| Al: | Looks like oregano. Is Jill keeping it out here so it stays
fresh? |
| Tim: | Let me see that. [Tim looks at the bag] That's not
oregano. |
| Al: | Tarragon? [Al smells the bag] |
| Tim: | This is marijuana. |
| Al: | Jill cooks with marijuana?! |
| Tim: | No, you idiot. Somebody is hiding this out
here. |
| Al: | Oh, I can't believe I touched this bag! Well now my prints are a-all
over it! [Al starts wiping his fingerprints off the bag] |
| Tim: | Hey hey hey hey! Calm down. |
| Al: | You know, this makes me an accessory. I could be charged, with, with
possession of illicit drugs! |
| Tim: | Al, Al. Al. Stop stop. Think for a minute. You found marijuana on my
property. What does that say to you? |
| Al: | I can no longer run for political
office. |
| | |
| Cut to the kitchen. |
|---|
| [Jill is sitting on the counter talking to the phone. Tim enters from the
backyard] |
| | |
| Jill: | [To the phone] Yeah... Bye. [Jill hangs up the phone and looks at the
piece of paper she's holding. Tim presents her the marijuana] |
| Tim: | Look what I found. |
| Jill: | This is a joke, right? Is this what I think it
is? |
| Tim: | It was taped to the underside of the seat out there. [Jill checks the
bag] |
| Jill: | Oh my God, it's marijuana. |
| Tim: | That's right. [Jill gets up from the
counter] |
| Jill: | What d-- do you think this belongs to one of our
boys? |
| Tim: | Well not unless we have a chipmunk that has
glaucoma. |
| Jill: | Well no no no, there's other possible explanations. I mean, this
could be one of your crew member's, they could have hid it
there. |
| Tim: | My crew doesn't smoke pot. You can't be high when you do a show like
"Tool Time." Look at the quality. Precision. You gotta face this, this
is our kids'. |
| Jill: | I know, you're probably right, oh God, oh God, O.K., just think calm,
we've gotta think about this. Which one is it? Has any of them been
acting strange? |
| Tim: | All of them. [Jill starts walking back and forth behind Tim's
back] |
| Jill: | Have you noticed anybody eating any more than
usual? |
| Tim: | All of them. |
| Jill: | What about smelling funny? |
| Tim: | All of them. Well this is it. They, they formed a
cartel! |
| Jill: | Well, oh, oh, ah, when they get home from school, I'll just have to
sit them down and, and ask them. |
| Tim: | Don't be silly. They're not gonna come clean. It will just drive the
user further underground and we may never find out who's using this
stuff. |
| Jill: | Well what do you think we should
do? |
| Tim: | We gotta trap 'em. |
| Jill: | Trap them? |
| Tim: | Trap them. Look, it's Friday night, whoever owns this is going to want
it for the weekend. So I say my guys fix the seat, I put it back where
it belongs, we go over to Wilson's house, we watch the guilty party
come and nab him. |
| Jill: | I don't know. I don't like the idea of spying on my own
children. |
| Tim: | Well there's your first mistake, thinking of them as children. If we
love them, we've got to think of them as potential felons. |
| Jill: | Don't call my babies felons. |
| Tim: | I said potential felons. Let me try the stakeout,
please. |
| Jill: | O.K., alright, but if this doesn't work, we're gonna be open and honest
with them. |
| Tim: | And what if that doesn't work? |
| Jill: | We grill 'em, shake 'em down, eventually one of them will
crack. |
| Tim: | Don't say "crack." [Tim goes into the
backyard] |
| | |
| Cut to the backyard, that night. |
|---|
| [The camera is looking towards Wilson's house. There is a periscope looking
around behind the fence near Wilson's telephone pole, which then moves to the
right and turns to look at the Taylor's house again. The shot changes to
Wilson's yard to reveal that Tim is the user of the periscope] |
| | |
| Tim: | I don't believe this. |
| Jill: | I don't either, it's ten degrees out
here. |
| Cut to the view through the periscope. |
|---|
| [Brad is in the kitchen cleaning his
fingernails with a fork] |
| Tim: | No no, Brad is picking his fingernails with a
fork. |
| Jill: | That's disgusting. |
| [Brad puts the fork back into the drawer] |
| Tim: | No, this is really disgusting. He's putting the fork back in the
drawer. |
| Jill: | Gross! |
| [Wilson enters with cups of hot chocolate and hands one of them to
Jill] |
| Wilson: | Well, here's some hot chocolate. |
| Jill: | Oh, thank you, Wilson. |
| Wilson: | [Wilson drinks the hot chocolate. The cup, in addition to the darkness,
is obscuring his face] Oh. |
| Jill: | Wilson, you're out here all the time. Did you ever see the kids doing
anything suspicious? |
| Wilson: | I have never seen a thing. And I find it so hard to believe that any of
the boys would be experimenting with cannabis. |
| Tim: | My boys aren't flesh-eaters! |
| Jill: | I just don't get it. We have been so much more open with them than our
parents were with us. |
| Wilson: | We communicated with them. |
| Jill: | We respected them. |
| Wilson: | Were did we go wrong? |
| Tim: | Hello-o! Remember the dad? |
| Wilson: | Oh, I'm sorry, Tim. It's just that sometimes I tend to think of your
children as my own. |
| Jill: | You know, we should have just prepared them better. Shared more of
our concerns about drugs. |
| Wilson: | Hm-m. |
| Tim: | We shared up the Ying-Yang! We should have been tougher on
them. |
| Jill: | Oh, for up to you, we'd never let them out of their
rooms. |
| Tim: | That's right. Couple of good substantial police locks, some hungry
Rottweilers sitting out there, [Imitating an angry Rottweiler]
rlah-rlah-rlah-rlah-rlah! |
| Wilson: | You know, I've read about kids and drugs in the paper, but it never
really hit home till that happened to my own backyard. |
| Jill: | It's ironic, isn't it? I mean first we rebel against the authority
figure, then we are the authority figure. |
| Tim: | Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! I think our dope fiend is making his
move. |
| Cut to the other side of the fence |
|---|
| Jill: | Which one is it? [The periscope quickly moves to the left and stops by
the telephone post] |
| Tim: | It's Brad. |
| Jill: | No. Not Brad. |
| Cut to the periscope. Brad is in the living room |
|---|
| Tim: | That's right. He's making his move, he's making his move, he's going
for [Brad puts on his coat] his coat. |
| Cut to the Taylor backyard. Wilson's hat is visible over the
fence |
|---|
| Wilson: | I knew it couldn't be our first-born. [The periscope turns to look at
Wilson] |
| | |
| Cut to Wilson's backyard, two hours
later. |
|---|
| [Tim is still observing the house] |
| | |
| Jill: | It's been two hours. I'm freezing. I want to go
inside. |
| Tim: | Hold on a minute. Wa-wait wait wait wait
wait! |
| Jill: | What? |
| Tim: | Randy. Walking to the [Cut to the periscope] living room, opening the
yard door. [Randy goes out the back door, carrying his
coat] |
| Jill: | Not sweet little Randy! |
| Tim: | Don't let little baby-face fool you, he's got "pot-head" written all
over his face. [Randy puts on his coat and reaches for something on the
ground next to the door] He's reaching down to pick up something.
[Randy picks up his boots] |
| Jill: | The drugs? |
| Tim: | No, it's his boots. |
| Cut back to Wilson's yard |
|---|
| Jill: | Yeah, I knew it wasn't him. |
| Tim: | He's going back inside. |
| Cut back to the view through the periscope. Mark and Ronny are in the living
room. |
|---|
| Tim: | Ronny just walked in! |
| Jill: | Ronny? |
| Tim: | Yeah, Mark's friend. |
| Cut to Tim and Jill |
|---|
| Jill: | Mark didn't say anything about Ronny coming over. That's really weird--
Oh my God, that's it. The drugs belong to Ronny. He's just hiding them
here. What a little jerk-- oh wait a minute, wait a minute, this is
great! We're not the lousy parents, the lousy parents belong to
Ronny! |
| Tim: | Well even if it's Ronny's pot, Mark could be smoking
it. |
| Jill: | Oh. That's true. Well thanks a lot, [Jill slaps Tim's back] I finally
get my hopes up, you got to crush them. Why do you have to be such a
downer? |
| Tim: | Don't say "downer"! |
| | |
| Cut to the Taylor backyard, even later that
night. |
|---|
| [Somebody is heard snoring. The periscope moves left and right to the rhythm of
the snoring. A few seconds later Tim's head sinks down and clunks against the
fence. The shot changes to Wilson's backyards again. Tim is leaning against the
fence, sleeping] |
| | |
| Jill: | Tim? [Jill rubs Tim's back] Tim.
Tim! |
| Tim: | What? [Tim wakes up] Hm? |
| Jill: | Honey. I've had it. Nobody is making a move for the pot. I'm freezing,
you're falling asleep. |
| Tim: | [Tim yawns] Give me fifteen more
minutes. |
| Jill: | O.K. Fifteen minutes, -- |
| Tim: | Yeah. |
| Jill: | -- but not a second more than that. You know, I'm gonna go out to the
car and get a thermal blanket. [Jill leaves to get the blanket. Tim
leans his head against the telephone pole and falls asleep
again] |
| | |
| Cut to the Taylor back door. |
|---|
| [Somebody comes out the door, but we can't see who it is because only his feet
are seen, and slowly walks towards the (fully repaired) gazebo and reaches
under the swing for the marijuana. Jill grabs the yet unknown person's
arm] |
| | |
| Jill: | Tim. [No response] Tim! [Tim's head pops up over the
fence] |
| Cut back to the gazebo. |
|---|
| [Jill is standing there holding Brad's arm. Jill and Brad turn to look at each
other] |
| | |
| [Commercial Break] |
|---|
| | |
| Cut to the gazebo, a few seconds later. |
|---|
| | |
| Jill: | Well what do you have to say for
yourself? |
| Brad: | Well it's not mine, I was holding it for somebody
else. |
| Tim: | Who were you holding it for? |
| Brad: | You guys don't know him. |
| Jill: | Well I'd like to know him. What's his phone
number? |
| Brad: | Well he just moved in. I don't think he has a phone
yet. |
| Tim: | Let's not dither, get inside. Come on.
[Tim, Jill and Brad go inside] |
| Brad: | I thought you guys were going out? |
| Tim: | That's what we wanted you to think. We were over at Wilson's yard,
hiding. |
| Brad: | Oh, so you set a trap for me? Well that really shows you have a lot of
trust in your child. |
| Jill: | We catch you with drugs, and you want to talk about
trust? |
| Brad: | Well, you raise a good point. |
| Tim: | Sit. |
| Brad: | Look, I told you guys I was just holding it for somebody
else. |
| Tim: | What do you think? We're a bunch of idiots? [Brad and Jill take off
their coats. Brad sits at the table] You want us to believe that you're
all of a sudden in the marijuana storage business? |
| Jill: | Is this your dope or not? |
| Tim: | The truth. |
| Brad: | Alright. [Jill sits down at the table] Alright, it's mine. I came to
pick it up after the basketball game and I was gonna take it to a party. |
| Tim: | Well now you are a supplier. |
| Brad: | No Dad, a lot of kids bring stuff. |
| Tim: | What is that, a pot luck? |
| Jill: | Is this the only drug you're doing? |
| Brad: | Yes. |
| Jill: | How much are you smoking? |
| Brad: | I don't know, not that much. |
| Jill: | Once a week, once a month, what? |
| Brad: | Mom, I do it when I go to parties. It's just a way to kick back and
mellow out every once in a while. |
| Jill: | I see. So you kick back and mellow out to your car, get behind the
wheel and mellow yourself right into a telephone pole? I mean, you
already managed to do that once straight. |
| Tim: | Or weren't you straight then? |
| Brad: | I don't get high and drive. |
| Jill: | You were going to drive
tonight. |
| Brad: | You, you know what, don't you guys think you're making a big deal out
of this? |
| Tim: | If it wasn't a big deal, why were you hiding it under the bench out
there? |
| Brad: | Because I know you'd freak. |
| Tim: | Well why do you think I'd freak about it? Why do you think so? It's
cuz what you're doing is illegal here! |
| Brad: | You know what, Dad, don't you think you're being a little
hypocritical? |
| Tim: | Well why don't you explain that to
me? |
| Brad: | I don't know, you were alive during the whole hippie thing. Are you
telling me you never smoked weed? |
| Tim: | Don't turn this around, this is not about us! This is about you. And,
and... and you're grounded right now for-- until we can figure out
what to do about his. Now get up to your room. |
| Brad: | Fine. [Brad gets up] |
| Tim: | Fine. [Brad leaves] Don't give me that stuff. Pulls this and says I'm a
hypocrite? [Tim goes towards the kitchen, followed by Jill] |
| Jill: | Well, he's right, at least about me. I used to smoke a lot of dope.
|
| Tim: | You don't tell him about that! [Jill starts filling the teakettle] It
was a long time ago, when you were in college. And this stuff's,
uh-eh-ih- this is stronger now. |
| Jill: | It was still illegal then. I mean, I should have talked to Brad about
-- |
| Tim: | No, no. |
| Jill: | -- my experiences before, -- |
| Tim: | No! |
| Jill: | -- he could have benefited from my
mistakes. |
| Tim: | You telling him that you ever smoked pot is like endorsing
it. |
| Jill: | He doesn't need my endorsement. He's already doing
it. |
| Tim: | O.K., O.K. We'll tell him the truth about everything now. How about the
first time we had sex? Huh? Rusty's barn dance, [Tim dances around]
bam-bam-bam bam bam-bam, yeah! How about the time when we both cheated
on our SATs? |
| Jill: | I didn't cheat on my SATs. |
| Tim: | Oh. Rub that in my face again. [Jill puts the teakettle down on the
stove] |
| Jill: | Look, I just think that being honest with Brad is our best chance of,
of getting him to stop doing drugs. |
| Tim: | We c-- [Randy comes around the corner by the refrigerator. Tim hides
the bag behind his back] |
| Randy: | I'm guessing you're not talking about metamusil. [Randy looks from Jill
to Tim, then takes off his coat] |
| Jill: | We, er, we caught Brad with some
marijuana. |
| Randy: | Wow. |
| Tim: | Wow. You smoke this stuff too, don't
you? |
| Randy: | No! |
| Tim: | Is that a real no or a "no I don't wanna be in trouble like Brad"
no? |
| Randy: | It's a real NO. |
| Tim: | Maybe we can trust him. [Tim puts his hand on Randy's shoulder. Randy
sighs. Tim sniffs Randy's hair] |
| | |
| Cut to Brad's room. |
|---|
| [Brad is standing in the middle of the room and looks at his watch. Somebody
knocks at the door] |
| | |
| Brad: | Yeah. |
| Randy: | It's me. |
| Brad: | Come in. [Randy comes in] |
| Randy: | [Gloating] Man, are you in deep! |
| Brad: | Well, did Mom and Dad tell you too? |
| Randy: | Yeah. How could you bring drugs into the house? [Brad sits on the
bed] |
| Brad: | I didn't bring them into the house. I taped them to the swing outside.
[Randy sits down at the desk] |
| Randy: | Oh, that's much better. [Short pause] You know, I didn't even know you
smoked. |
| Brad: | I've only done it a couple of times. And come on, you've been to a ton
of parties, are you telling me you never smoked? |
| Randy: | No. I mean, the kids who are always smoking seem so out of it. I just
never pictured myself sitting in the corner contemplating the meaning
of string. |
| Brad: | Yeah, well I don't do that. [Brad gets up from the bed
again] |
| Randy: | So what do you do? |
| Brad: | Well, I just kind of sit around and talk about
stuff. |
| Randy: | Like what? |
| Brad: | What do you care? |
| Randy: | I'm just trying to figure out what's going on with
you. |
| Brad: | You know, what's going on with me is that I'm grounded. Where's Mom
and Dad? |
| Randy: | They're in their room talking. |
| Brad: | Good. [Brad looks at his watch and goes to the
door] |
| Randy: | Wait, where are you going? |
| Brad: | I've got to make a phone call. [Brad goes out the
door] |
| | |
| Cut to the kitchen/living room |
|---|
| [Brad comes down the stairs, followed by Randy] |
| | |
| Randy: | What are you doing? Mom and Dad want you to stay in your room. [Brad
goes over to the phone] |
| Brad: | Shut up, I know what I'm doing. |
| Randy: | Well you've certainly proven that. [Brad picks up the phone and dials
a number. Randy leaves to the basement] |
| Brad: | [To the phone] Hey Eric... Yeah, it's Brad... No no no, I can't take
you to that party... Yeah, I kinda got busted by my parents... [Tim and
Jill come towards the kitchen, but Brad hasn't seen them yet] Yeah.
Won't be smoking pot for a while. |
| Tim: | For a while? |
| Brad: | [To the phone] Yeah, I gotta go. [Brad hangs up the
phone] |
| Jill: | So, you're just gonna wait till we get off your back and start smoking
again. |
| Tim: | Brad, sit down, please. [Tim points to the
couch] |
| Brad: | Guys come on, I mean, it's not like I'm doing hard
drugs. |
| Tim: | You don't have to do hard drugs to screw up your life. [Brad and Jill
sit on the couch] |
| Jill: | Yep. And we know that from
experience. |
| Brad: | So, so you were pot heads. |
| Tim: | No! I was a beer head. [Tim sits on the couch so Brad is sitting in the
middle between him and Jill] |
| Jill: | But I was. |
| Tim: | You were friends with a girl who smoked a lot of pot, and she got
busted and ended up going to jail, and her family wouldn't talk to
her, so as I recall her boyfriend had to bail her out. God knows what
would have happened if he weren't around. That guy was a saint. |
| Brad: | Was that a story about you? |
| Tim: | No! |
| Jill: | Yes. |
| Tim: | Nooo. |
| Jill: | Yes, it was. It's not the whole story. I, I would, [Sighs] I got stoned
at a Led Zeppelin concert. I bought some dope that was laced with something. |
| Brad: | What was it laced with? |
| Jill: | I don't know. But I ended up in the emergency room. Got registered
under the name Charlene Fogelman. |
| Brad: | So you used a phony name so your parents wouldn't catch
you? |
| Jill: | No, I thought I was Charlene
Fogelman. |
| Brad: | Well then how did you end up in
jail? |
| Jill: | Somebody turned me in. I was messed up for a long time after
that. |
| Tim: | She still hyperventilates everytime she hears "Stairway to Heaven".
But who doesn't! |
| Jill: | Look Brad, I know what this is like. You know, when you're young, you
want to have adventures, you think, "Nothing bad can happen to me."
It's just not true. Something bad can happen TO YOU. Why would you
want to take that risk? |
| Tim: | You, you're life's, you know, on track now, you don't want to do stuff
that will get it off-track, you know, you got so much going for, you
got so much to lose. I mean... how about your soccer scholarship? |
| Jill: | And the trust of a family who loves you. |
| Brad: | Yeah, I don't want to lose my soccer scholarship. Or, or the other
thing. |
| Tim: | "The other thing" is the most important thing in your life. Nobody
believes or cares in you as much as we do. |
| Brad: | I know that. |
| Jill: | So? What now? |
| Tim: | What are you gonna do next time you go to a
party? |
| Jill: | Which, by the way, will be a very long time from
now. |
| Tim: | Somebody wants you to smoke some pot, what are you gonna
do? |
| Brad: | I'll just say "No, thanks." |
| Tim: | Well come on, just a tope, come on Brad, what's the matter, come on,
just a... |
| Brad: | Dad, I won't take it. |
| Tim: | What are you gonna tell them when, when they ask why
not? |
| Brad: | I don't know, I mean I guess I'll just make up some kind of
excuse. |
| Jill: | Here is what they tell us to use at the counseling center: Tell them
that you can't smoke because if you get caught again, your parents
are gonna put you on drug testing. |
| Brad: | Well, do you think my friends are really gonna buy
that? |
| Tim: | You convince them. Cuz it'll be
true. |
| Brad: | O.K., I get the picture. |
| Tim: | Good. Enough with this sensitive emotional moment, it's over. Now I
want you to go back to your room, and I'll talk to you tomorrow after
ten o'clock. [Tim stands up] |
| Brad: | What then? |
| Tim: | Sentencing. |
| Brad: | Alright, I'm sorry. |
| Tim: | Alright. [Brad leaves. Tim sits down again] Do you think we got through
to him? |
| Jill: | I don't know. I hope so. Because we can reason with him and tell him
horror stories all we want, but when he goes out that door, it's going
to be all up to him. |
| Tim: | He's a good kid, though. |
| Jill: | Yeah, I think so. [Deep breathy sigh] Do you remember when the worst
problem that we had with Brad was toilet training? |
| Tim: | Huh. Now, makes sense. Couldn't get him on the pot, now we're trying to
get him off the pot. [Jill smiles and shakes her head] |
| Jill: | Ohh, what a miserable day. |
| Tim: | Telling me. First thing you know you crash into a gazebo, next thing
you know your oldest son is on drugs. Boy, I need a beer! [Tim starts
to get up, but Jill holds him back] |
| | |
| Cut to the living room, the next day. |
|---|
| [Randy, Mark and Jill are sitting on the couch. Tim is standing behind
them] |
| | |
| Jill: | So Brad is not going to be driving or going to parties for two
months. |
| Tim: | We went easy on him because he was the first one to get caught.
However, the next one gets the book thrown at him. |
| Mark: | That's not fair. |
| Tim: | Well no one said life was fair! |
| Jill: | You have the benefit of learning from Brad's
mistake. |
| Randy: | Hm. You know, in some cultures it's the kid that screwed up who is
expected to learn from his mistake. |
| Tim: | Well this isn't a fancy country like France. This is America, where
one person can screw it up for everybody. |
| | |
| CREDITS |
|---|
| | |
| THE END |
|---|
