01x12 - Episode 12

[bunniefuu]

- MR. GONE NARRATES:
Most of us inhabit at least

two worlds...the real world,
where we're at the mercy of

circumstance, and the world
within, the unconscious,

a safe place where we can
escape.

The Maxx shifts between these
worlds...against his will.

Here, homeless, he lives
in a box in an alley.

The only one who really cares
for him is Julie Winters,

a freelance social worker.

But in Pangaea, the other world,
he rules the Outback

and is the protector of Julie,
his Jungle Queen.

- There, he cares for her.

But he always ends up
back in the real world.

And me, old Mr. Gone...

Only I can see that
the secret which unites them

could destroy them.

I could be helpful.

Ah, screw it!

I think I'll have some fun
with them, first.

- SARA: Are you keeping
all these hockey sticks?

- JULIE: Yes.

- SARA: That was really weird

how that white thingy burst in

here and grabbed my Dad's head
and vanished, huh?

- JULIE: Yeah, that was weird.

but after hanging out
with Maxx for so long,

I just can't tell any more.

- I hate my Dad...pretending to
be dead when all the time he was

that stupid r*pist-m*rder*r
Mr. Gone.

- JULIE:

Or do you hate him 'cause
he left you?

- And you cut his head off.

That's the bravest thing
I ever heard of.

- No, Sara, the bravest thing
would have been to listen

to him.

- RADIO: ♪ I'm in love
♪ With a school bus driver

♪ He gives me a ride
- MR. GONE: Very good, doctor.

Make sure those braces
are nice and tight.

Got to keep the old spinal cord
in place, eh?

Oh, and, doc, don't go all tense
on me just 'cause there's

a small army of Iszes waiting
behind that door.

It's not like they're going
to devour you once you finish

sewing my head back on, hm?

Let me entertain you, doctor,
with a little fairytale.

NARRATES: My name back then
was Artemus B. Gone.

I was about ten pounds lighter
and I was a pretty dapper

fellow.

This is the story of a little
girl I still know.

- L'IL JULIE: Hi.

You remember me.

There's our house.

Mommy and Daddy.

My room.

I love the old Elm outside
my window.

I sit under it sometimes
and pretend I'm a Jungle Queen.

And have adventures.

Then I come back inside
and cuddle in bed.

And I'm safe.

My Daddy draws buildings.

He draws the insides of office
buildings downtown.

This is the lobby of
the Dexter Basco something

building.

It will be beautiful if it ever
gets built.

If I was going to work
in the building, this is where

I'd work.

Daddy wanted to paint covers for
paperbacks, but he didn't 'cause

publishers are dumb, Mommy says.

Sometimes, when he thinks I'm
asleep, Daddy stabs his drawings

with a pencil, over and over,
and says bad things.

Daddy always smells like
a closet with a lot of polished

shoes and hats in it.

Mommy is pretty.

But she always says she's just
a dither brain.

- Oh, hello, Mr. Walters.

No, John isn't home.

You can't give him the raise?

Yes, I totally understand.

But John will be devastated.

He'll hate leaving you.

Leave?

Oh, yes.

That nice Mr. Tate has been
calling every day...twice,

some days.

But John keeps saying how he'd
rather stay with you, if he had

even a little more...

You can?

You will?

How very generous of you,
Mr. Walters.

- Guess, what?

Old man Walters came through.

- Oh, please don't
talk business.

You know it makes my head spin.

- L'IL JULIE: Uh-huh.

- Pizza for both my girls.

- L'IL JULIE NARRATES: Daddy
and I have a lot in common.

Bugs, for instance.

Ick-a-bug.

- DADDY: Ick-a-bug?

Maybe it'll just walk out of
here on its own.

- Uh-oh.

Time for dinner, everybody.

- L'IL JULIE: Mommy always
does what has to be done.

Something in her shuts off
and she pretends it didn't

happen.

I guess that's what being
a Mommy is all about.

One day...

- L'IL JULIE: I found a bunny
in the road...squashed like

a piece of clay, like the clay
I make my pretend houses out of.

It was hurt, screaming.

I didn't know bunnies could
scream.

But maybe I can make it
better...like I fix my houses

after I smash them with
a hammer.

I take it home so it can
be my friend.

It's not screaming any more.

But now all it does is look
at me and wait.

My stomach hurts.

Uncle Artie came to visit
one day.

I thought Mom said he moved.

He just went to Australia,
but now he's back.

He stays down the hall
from me.

- Sometimes, he whistles.

I guess I like him okay.

- ARTIE: The Outback
is unbelievable.

It's like nothing you've ever
seen before...Air Whales

the size of...

- L'IL JULIE: Except when
he makes too much noise

to hear "Colonel Kangaroo."

Sometimes, I think he looks
just like my doll.

Daddy likes to talk to him
for hours, to laugh with him,

then he leaves, just drives
away, and then I'm alone,

alone with my little friend.

The bunny is under my bed
all the time now.

It doesn't get better.

It just makes this little
scraping noise with its

good leg.

I can hear it all the time now,
even when I'm in the yard under

my tree.

- DADDY: Good night, pumpkin.

- MOMMY: Good night.

- L'IL JULIE: Nothing is fun
any more.

All I can do is hear that noise.

My stomach hurts.

Then, suddenly, it stops.

I wanna make it better,
but I'm not sure how.

- Julie, can I throw out
the cracked records?

- No.

- The broken flower pots?

- No.

- You can't take all
this stuff.

Split golf ba*ls?

You don't even play.

- You never know.

- So, doctor, does it surprise
you that I, Mr. Gone,

am a student of irony?

Well, I am.

- CREATURES:

- For example, the white Isz
that came over from the Outback

to save me is currently being
tormented by his brothers,

the dark Isz.

And, although he rescued me
from putrefaction, and I could

end his t*rture with just one
word, I won't.

I find that very ironic.

However, since you know that
once you are done, the dark Isz

will probably t*rture you,
as well.

I can see why the more subtle
aspects of his plight are lost

on you.

Pity.

To continue.

- MOMMY: John?

- L'IL JULIE: I can't sleep.

It's like the bunny is scraping
right into my stomach.

- John, we have to do
something.

- L'IL JULIE: I'm mad at
the bunny for being sick

and bothering me.

- MOMMY: Get up.

- L'IL JULIE: For being alive.

- DADDY: Pumpkin, can we see
what you've got there.

Uh, Sweetie, I think the bunny
needs to live out in the garage

to get better.

Oh, god, look at its leg.

- MOMMY: That was very strong
of you, John.

- L'IL JULIE: Bunny?

They leave.

All I know is I couldn't help
the bunny.

- SARA: Do you have
the guacamole knives?

- MAXX: Yep.

- SARA: Did you wrap
the "Star Trek" commemorative

mugs?

- MAXX: Yep.

- SARA: What about
the Buster Keaton kaleidoscope

and pen knife?

- MAXX: Got it. Women, geez.

I know how to carry stuff.

- SARA: Julie, did you tell
him yet?

- JULIE: What?

That I think we have
a co-dependent relationship

and that I'm leaving the city.

I don't know how.

- SARA: That sounds good.

Why don't you tell him that?

- JULIE: Right, why don't you
tell him?

- SARA: You're the one
he's morbidly dependent on,

around whom he's based his whole
painful, lonely, miserable

existence, who is the only
support he has in a cold...

- JULIE: Sara.

Make this harder, why don't you.

- SARA: Hey, maybe I don't want
you to leave either.

- L'IL JULIE: Mommy and Daddy
tried to talk to me about

the bunny.

- DADDY: Listen, Sweetie,
it's really for the best.

- L'IL JULIE: They explained
how the vet couldn't do

anything, that the bunny
just has to wait in the garage

until God comes for him.

They tell me death is a natural
part of life.

After a while, I can't hear them
any more, and I can't hear

the scraping in the garage.

All I can hear is what I want...
like the noise of my comb going

through the doll's hair.

The hair makes lots of noise.

Nothing seems the same any more.

- ARTIE: Don't worry, it's just
me, Uncle Artie.

So, do you think the bunny
is dead yet?

- DADDY: Julie, Honey,
you broke your doll.

Combed its head right off.

Uh, your Mom and I are worried
about you, Honey.

You shouldn't think about
the bunny so much.

It'll probably, um, get better
real soon. Honest.

- L'IL JULIE: Daddy can't lie
nearly as good as Mommy.

- I knew Mommy would come
because Mommy always fixes

everything.

Daddy leaves the important
stuff to her.

And she takes care of it.

- L'IL JULIE: Or makes it
disappear so we don't have

to think about it.

- MR. GONE: That's how our
little story ends, doc.

Not with a bang, or a whimper,
but with a thwack.

Little Julie never did mention
that incident.

Neither did her Mother
or Father.

Something in Julie shut off
that night.

In a way, she's been eight years
old ever since.

Julie learned something from
her Mom that moment...something

that she would use years later
when attacked and left

for dead...the ability to
suppress, to submerge,

and to bury...passed down
from Mother to Daughter.

The pain of facing it versus
the pain of keeping it down,

like all that useless junk
in Julie's house she just

won't let go of.

I guess you could say it's
a no-win situation, eh, doc?

But, actually, you couldn't say
any of that, could you, doctor?

You aren't, as we say, all here.

Or most of you's here, but then
some of you is there and some

of you is over there.

Well, you know what I mean.

Au revoir, doc.

It's been swell.

- SARA: So, are you ready?

- Just about.

Things are a lot clearer
around here now.

When I was trapped in the
Outback, I kept meeting little

versions of myself and I think
that means there's still a lot

of stuff to learn about myself
before I can start screwing

with other people.

- SARA: I suppose you're
keeping this old rusty

shovel, too.

- JULIE: No, Sara.

Throw it out.

- MAN: Safe home, dear friends,
and come again, to behold the

mysteries of MTV's "Oddities."