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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
Excuse me, sir. You left these at your table.
Keep focused. Keep focused.
Then she'd stop feeding him to see if his hunger...
Something woke me up.
She doesn't know anything about your investigation, okay, Einstein?
- Hey, Lenny, how you doing? - It's private back here.
I need a weapon.
Ask the police. Eyewitness testimony is unreliable.
and you won't remember.
Shit. That's true. It fits.
He killed my wife. He took away my fucking memory.
like I told you before.
and turned you into a fucking retard!
Don't write Gammell, just Teddy.
Yeah. Okay.
Hey.
But I've got all sorts of other considerations.
Who is this?
Yeah.
always with the same objects carrying the electrical charge.
- I'm Mr. Shelby from 304. - What can I do for you, Leonard?
The bits and pieces you never bothered to put into words.
- How do I know he did that to your face? - Because I came straight to you after he did it.
Must be tough living your life according to a couple ofscraps of paper.
Sammy wrote himself endless amounts of notes, but he got mixed up.
Me? Yeah, I got a reason.
Get rid of him. Ask Natalie.
Wait. Did he tell you what I was bringing?
Because I did what you told me to do! Go in and reason with him!
I thought so too. In fact, I was sure of it, but you didn't!
You kind of learn to trust your own handwriting.
Natalie.
Just a minute.
- Ouch. Cut it out. - She wasn't diabetic.
It's been fun, Lenny.
No, he's chasing me.
"First name: John."
What? Was I supposed to lock the door?
Let me put it this way. Were you wearing designer suits when you sold insurance?
No, not as long as you remember to pay the bill.
- I'm meeting someone called Natalie. - That's me.
I can't blame the cops for not taking me seriously.
Yeah. Come on.
She went into a coma and never recovered.
Cocksucker.
not by memory, but by instinct.
That's who you were. You do not know who you are...
I gave you a reason to live, and you were more than happy to help.
This is the wrong room. You're in 304 now.
You think I don't know my own wife? What the fuck is wrong with you?
Had my friend at DMV trace it.
Natalie, right? Who the fuck is Dodd?
My wife.
He writes messages on the back of these.
It's not easy for me to relax, you know?
and as long as he kept his mind on what he was doing.
Nice shot, Leibovitz.
You'll wanna make a note. You can't trust her.
I can read people, and I'm thinking: Bad actor.
How am I supposed to heal if I can't... feel time?
Fuck, Leonard. Dodd. Dodd beat the shit out of me.
I'm a claims investigator, not a doctor.
"Ferdy's Bar."
I'll be fine.
That's who you were. That's not what you've become.
When she offers to help, it'll be for her own reasons.
Just two, so far.
There's nothing wrong with that. We all do it.
You know, I can remember so much.
I was asleep.
Let me get you another one.
She just needed to understand his problem.
You have it tattooed on your thigh.
It's Leonard...
But every time I see him...
Leonard, always get a receipt.
I lie here not knowing how long I've been alone.
A gun. Why would I have a gun?
You did.