ROGUES | S01E12: State Lines

ROGUES | S01E12: State Lines

(interior of Edward’s car)

EDWARD: What I’m saying is, now that I’ve had time to think about it, I’ve realised that I don’t get nightmares. 

JON: Don’t look at me.

EDWARD: If etiquette did not dictate that I had to, I wouldn’t. 

JON: You never get nightmares?

EDWARD: Nope. I sleep like a baby; a side benefit of a clear conscience.

JON: (snorts)

EDWARD: You did something to me while I was sleeping, didn’t you? 

JON: Don’t you trust me?

EDWARD: Not with that “who, me?” smirk spread across your face like congealed butter.

JON: Maybe you ate too much ice cream before bed.

EDWARD: Oh, ho ho. An old wives’ tale. Delightful. You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?

JON: Wouldn’t dream of it.

EDWARD: You’re not funny. You think you are, but you’re not.

JON: Bitch, I’m hilarious.

EDWARD: (shocked laugh)

JON: Y’see?

EDWARD: What do you know - you do still have the capacity to surprise me.

JON: Wonders never cease. Neither does this damn music. (changes the station)

EDWARD: Hey! (turns it back)

JON: This is giving me a headache. (changes it)

EDWARD: That’ll be your brain, rattling around your cranium like Pong. (changes it)

JON: How d’you even get these stations out here? (changes it)

EDWARD: (changes it) I modded it, like I mod everything. 

JON: Still sucks. (changes it) And sucks too loud.

EDWARD: What do you know about music? (changes it) You have a snore that sounds like a toothless chainsaw lodged in a California redwood.

JON: What has that got to do with anythin’? (changes it)

EDWARD: It proves that you’re tone deaf. (changes it) Even when you’re asleep.

JON: Well, you snore like someone who has a flute jammed up their nose. (changes it)

EDWARD: That’ll be the broken nose I got, Jon - you remember that? (changes it)

JON: (laughs) I remember it shut you up for a while. (changes it)

EDWARD: You’re all bleeding heart, Doctor. (changes it)

JON: Should see my bedside manner. (changes it)

EDWARD: Last seen on a milk carton somewhere in Sarasota. (changes it)

JON: You don’t stop touchin’ it, you’re gonna break it. (changes it)

EDWARD: (snickers) That’s just what the school nurse used to tell you. (changes it)

JON: My last nurse told me it ain’t a flag; let it touch the ground. (changes it)

EDWARD: (laughs) That’s twice! Two jokes in as many minutes! Who are you, and what did you do with Jonathan Crane? (changes it)

JON: Drank him to death. (chuckles, turns it off) Off, then. When did you get so dang stubborn?

EDWARD: It was you, alright?! I learned it by watching you!

(laugh)

(pause)

JON: So you gonna tell me why the road back to Gotham involves drivin’ in the exact opposite direction?

EDWARD: Oh, so you noticed.

JON: Noticed in Tennessee, when my brain started workin’ again. 

EDWARD: I wondered how long it would take; (sarcastic) your powers of observation are astounding. You never thought to ask until now?

JON: Figured you’d avoid the question. I like the open road, so it’s not like I really care.

EDWARD: Hm. I should stop for gas, soon; see if there’s any place worth eating at around here. I fear I haven’t eaten well since Virginia.

JON: Y’know, I could take a turn at driving, you want a rest. 

EDWARD: Not bloody likely, leadfoot.

JON: You sure? I could really open this baby up.

EDWARD: Not a chance. Besides, I got the seat the way I like. You’ll wreck that with your freakishly long legs.

JON: You sure you’re even comfortable driving? 

EDWARD: I’m perfectly capable, thank you. 

JON: That why I see you twitchin’ your head like you remembered you’re driving?

EDWARD: … It’s still not what I’d call a necessary skill. On the bright side, I haven’t plowed us into a ditch, yet.

JON: Hm. Give it time.

EDWARD: You know, Q and E make this car look much easier to handle than it is.

JON: I’m sure they’d teach you.

EDWARD: They’re already paid quite enough to laugh at me, thank you.

JON: (chuckles)

EDWARD: Typically I have work to do. Flatfoots tend to frown upon distracted driving.

JON: Can’t imagine why.

EDWARD: Surely the ability to multitask should be admired.

JON: You’d think. Hey - since you spend most of your time locked in the trunk, did you recognise the front seat, when you saw it?

EDWARD: Ha, ha. 

JON: What you do back there - your Houdini impression?

EDWARD: Perish needlessly from appendicitis and peritonitis? No.

JON: I could punch you in the gut to find out.

EDWARD: Hands off. Fact is, I do my BeeGee impression.

JON: What?

EDWARD: Stayin’ alive? Q and E saving my skin ensures that Boss Man here lives to cut another fat cheque.

JON: The system works, then.

EDWARD: You bet your ass it does.

(pause)

JON: We’re going to Duluth, ain’t we?

EDWARD: (vaguely impressed huff) Good guess.

JON: Only thing I don’t know is why.

EDWARD: Well, I’ll tell you.

(siren) 

EDWARD: Oh, for pity’s sake. 

JON: You been speedin’?

EDWARD: Nope. (irritated sigh) This is the last thing I need. What does this idiot want?

JON: Pull over and find out, genius.

EDWARD: If I must. 

(pulls over, kills the engine) 

EDWARD: Alright. Be nice. 

JON: The hell for?

EDWARD: You’re not the deputy mayor of Gotham driving across state lines with a wanted fugitive riding shotgun.

JON: Don’t think I have any warrants out in Minnesota.

EDWARD: You sure about that?

JON: Wait - yes. Yes, I do. (snickers)

EDWARD: Do you remember what it was for?

JON: If memory serves…

EDWARD: Tipping it might encourage it to come back.

JON: Babe the Blue Ox sprung a leak and started sprayin’ toxin everywhere. Somehow.

EDWARD: … Bemidji?

JON: You got it.

EDWARD: (chuckles) What a colourful life you lead. Forget being nice, just be sil ent.

JON: Alright, if you don’t babble.

EDWARD: Excuse me?

JON: You gush like a spotlit actress.

EDWARD: Fuck off, that’s only when I’m caught off guard.

JON: Cops don’t scare you?

EDWARD: (snorts) Please.

JON: Hm. … We could kill him. 

EDWARD: Could we now?

JON: Yeah. Ditch his bloated body to the side of the road and the whims of the vultures.

EDWARD: (deadpan) You know how tingly I get when you come over all homicidal.

JON : (snorts) Shut up. You’re thinkin’ about it, ain’t you?

EDWARD: (chuckles) Yes, I am. Deserted highway. I don’t see a camera. Maybe... but let’s see what he wants, first. Directly fighting the law is difficult to come out of clean. 

JON: Mm.

(pause)

JON: (singing) Breakin’ rocks in the hot sun… (EDWARD joins in) I fought the law, and the law won; I fought the law, and the law won.

BOTH: (snickering)

EDWARD: Finally, you show some taste.

JON: Took the words right outta my mouth.

EDWARD: Showtime. Shh.

COP: Good afternoon, young fella.

EDWARD: Help you, officer?

COP: Where you off to this fine day?

(pause)

EDWARD: Passing through. Problem?

COP: Well, I don’t pull folks over for my health, son.

EDWARD: … No. I imagine you don’t.

COP: License and registration, son.

(pause)

EDWARD: (impatient noise; rustling) Here.

(pause)

COP: ‘Fraid I’m gonna hafta - (reads) Wait. You’re - 

EDWARD: Yes?

COP: You’re Eddie Nashton. Jackie’s boy.

(pause)

EDWARD: (tight smile) So he says.

COP: Haven’t seen you out this way since, (exhales) dang, I don’t even know.

EDWARD: (under his breath) Not long enough.

COP: (looks) Who’s yer friend?

(pause)

EDWARD: Who?

COP: Feller right there.

EDWARD: No one.

COP: Oh yah? Looks like someone to me. What’s your name, friend?

EDWARD: He doesn’t talk.

COP: No?

(pause)

EDWARD: Dumb as a post.

COP: Oh yah?

(pause)

EDWARD: Like I said, we’re just passing through. So if you could -

COP: Hold your horses there, son. 

EDWARD: Sure. Interrupt me. (deep breath) What is it?

COP: You got expired tags on ya.

(pause)

EDWARD: Of course I do.

COP: So you see I can’t just let you go.

(pause)

EDWARD: Oh no?

COP: No. Expired tags, ya see.

(pause)

EDWARD: (talking to himself) Someone will suffer for that.

COP: Whassat, son?

EDWARD: (turns) I said I have someone for that.

COP: But you still got expired tags, eh?

(pause; EDWARD lowers his glasses and pinches his nose; frustrated exhale)

(JON starts to whistle TGTB&TU theme under his breath)

COP: Funny. He can’t talk, but he can whistle.

(pause)

EDWARD: Redefines the word dumb.

(pause)

COP: Still, I bet you got a lot on your mind, eh?

EDWARD: Ohh, you have no idea.

COP: Here to see Jackie. Tags slipped your mind?

EDWARD: (temporarily wrong-footed) See - what?

COP: Your pops. Taken a turn for the worse.

EDWARD: Wait a moment. I remember. You’re… Ted Peterson, yes?

COP: That’s some memory on you, son. Can’t have met me more than a couple times.

EDWARD: Exactly twice.

COP: You were just a kid when I saw you last. Bright as a button.

EDWARD: So people said.

COP: Dunno why I didn’t see it soon as l clapped eyes on ya. Pretty like your ma with Jackie’s red hair - that there’s Eddie Nashton, through and through.

(irritated grunt from EDWARD; low laugh from JON)

COP: Oh see, now, now he laughs. He’s not dumb at all.

EDWARD: Dumb as they come, and getting dumber. You were saying?

COP: Yer pops got taken in to St. Joseph’s. Could be any day now, they say.

EDWARD: They say that, do they?

COP: Ahyup. So you’re ‘round this way to come see him, right?

EDWARD: Mercy dash to see dear old Dad one last time, that’s what I’m doing. All other thoughts - whoosh - out the window. (flat) Forget my own head next, boy howdy.

COP: You’re a good boy. Well -  I’ll let ya off with a warning then. You go see your Dad. But be sure to renew those tags, little Nashton.

EDWARD: Oh, you betcha. First chance I get.

COP: Give ‘im my regards.

EDWARD: Right.

COP: Take care now. And see to those tags.

(COP leaves and drives away; pause as EDWARD squeezes the wheel) 

JON: That was interestin’.

EDWARD: Fascinating.

JON: (scoff) What a good boy you are. I reckon yeh gave me diabetes.

EDWARD: Cholesterol will get you first. 

JON: I’ll take a bullet, instead.

EDWARD: That can be arranged. For pity’s sake - when we left Georgia, we drove for hours and you never said a word. Now, when I want you to be quiet, you can’t keep your trap shut.

JON: Me and cops don’t mix.

EDWARD: I should be grateful you didn’t think him a new test subject.

JON: Meh. Cops are all afraid of the same thing.

(pause)

JON: Were you really going to Duluth to see your father?

EDWARD: No, I wasn’t. I was going to drive by the old house. Check up on a couple things. 

JON: Now you got to, right?

EDWARD: Mm. I feel compelled to see the old ogre before he kicks his bucket. 

JON: You know where this hospital is at?

EDWARD: I got into enough ‘scuffles’ as a kid to know the way there blindfolded.

JON: What was it called, again?

EDWARD: St. Joseph’s. 

JON: I’m a little rusty on my saints, but -

EDWARD: Yeah. Patron Saint of the happy death.

JON: That’s some name.

EDWARD: Social realism at its finest. Should I go see my father, it would be malapropos.

JON: This could be good for you, you know - get some closure.

EDWARD: You can fuck right off with that psychobabble bullshit - you killed your father.

JON: I never laid a hand on him.

EDWARD: No. You didn’t have to, did you?

JON: (chuckles) I was there when he died.

EDWARD: Come on. I know you did it, just admit it.

JON: Alright - he died because of me. Can’t say it wasn’t closure.

EDWARD: Now that I know his end is imminent, I wish I’d put the old man down myself.

JON: Not too late.

(pause)

EDWARD: You ever regret it?

(pause)

JON: Nope. Sure as hell love to do it again.

EDWARD: Now that’s what I want to hear. 

(pause)

(EDWARD starts the car) 

EDWARD: Speaking of… that flatfoot reminded me of something. I have one place I’d like to visit, before I darken Daddy’s doorway.

JON: It’s your dime. Drive on, young Eddie.

EDWARD: Shut your face, unless you actually want to be struck dumb.

JON: Hm. 

(pause) 

EDWARD: (singing) Robbin’ people with a six-gun, (JON joins in) I fought the law and the law won, I fought the law and the law won...