Howard Howe
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(narration of his letter) Hello, I am an old man who has enjoyed a long and storied life at sea. I am a proud Canadian who has traveled a peculiar path lo these many years. And after eons of oceanic adventure, I find myself a landlubber, with Manitoba as my final port. I know I do not wish to spend my remaining years alone in a giant house. Not when I have such stories to share. So to this end, I'm offering a room for rent in my stately woodland home. This arrangement will be free of charge, providing you to perform the simple household chores I can no longer tend to from the confines of this accursed wheelchair. But though I may be old, I have lived. And I will tell you all about my many adventures in vivid detail. Please feel free to call me at the number below. Respectfully, Howard Howe.
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Oh, how I have missed you, Mr. Tusk. How I've missed our merry times together on Ponder Rock. I've regretted every day of my return to this wretched...civilization. This anxious, silly world, with all the banality of a breakfast cereal. The worst of man has long been fetid with greed and indifference. The best of man has long been lobotomized by reality television. I never should have left the wilderness. I never should have left you. This writhing nest of two-legged bipeds. Each devouring the other to stay alive. And I betrayed you. For what? Man's world? An immoral cesspool, boded with the wayward, and the destitute.
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The sun was shining on the sea. Shining with all his might. He did his very best to make the billows smooth and bright. And this was rather odd because it was the middle of the night.
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Well, someone's looking for Wallace! Yes...it must be nice to know that somebody cares about you that much. Just what I felt on the island with Mr. Tusk. He was the only living thing that ever had my best interests at heart. As a child, I was not cared for so much as I was...filed away, like a document. A document fed into a shredding machine and fueled by the blood of the innocent. You see, I am a Duplessis Orphan. Now, Maurice Duplessis was the Premier of Quebec in those days. He was the head of the Conservative Party and with strong ties to the Catholic Church. As a matter of fact, it was in collusion with these charlatans of the Lord that Duplessis brought upon Quebec la Grande Noirceur. The Great Darkness. As a boy of 10, my mother and father took me to Montreal. I had never seen anything so beautiful and bright and big and wonderful in my life. But when night falls in Montreal, the monsters come out to play. We were walking to dinner and were accosted by brigands in a back alley. My father was stabbed several times with the mugger's knife and my mother's throat was slashed as if she were cattle. I was placed in an abandoned boys' home in Quebec. Boys whose lives had been destroyed. Provinces were responsible financially for all of the orphanages. The government was responsible for the mental institutions. So Duplessis and the Church, they came up with a scheme to obtain more money by reclassifying the orphanages as mental health-care facilities. And when nobody raised their voice in protest, why, they just shut down the orphanages and sent all the children, including me, to insane asylums. And so for the next five years, I was tortured, I was beaten, I was raped. I have had things in my mouth that no human being should ever taste. They never thought of me as a person. They just thought to use me. And use me they did. Priests, politicians...all pederasts. Even the nurses and nuns and night watchmen. All of them witches, all there to satisfy their most base...physical and financial desires...through the lips and rectum of a child. So with no one to answer to for their horrid crimes, these devils ran amuck with my innocence. But at age 15, I escaped Canada. Got on a boat, went to the United States, and never looked back. Until now. Yes...man is a savage animal, Mr. Bryton. Better to be a walrus.
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Your life as you knew it is over, Mr. Bryton. Should you wish to continue living, you will be a walrus...or you will be nothing at all.
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Now...shall we dispense with the chuffa, Mr. Bryton? Perhaps it'd be best, in this, our burgeoning relationship to reveal our hearts with absolute candor. You see...for some time now...I've been constructing a very realistic walrus suit. And I believe with a few modifications, it will fit you just perfectly. But...whilst in the walrus suit, you must be a walrus. There'll be no sounds of a human voice. You must communicate everything you do as a walrus. Do you understand?
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Mr. Tusk...why do you blubber so? Are you really mourning your loss of humanity? I don't understand. Who in the hell would want to be human? God Almighty... In all of my travels, I've only ever known a human to be an ocean of shit.
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Ahoy, matey! You know...it has occurred to me. If you are to fulfill your destiny...if you are to be a true walrus. Well, Mr. Tusk...a walrus must learn to swim.
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Yes...isn't this soothing to the soul? You know, if I close my eyes, I can almost imagine being back on Ponder Rock. I knew peace in this twisted, hateful world. I miss our little paradise, Mr. Tusk. This is just a poor facsimile of the magical enclave from when we first became good friends. You remember? Until that...terrible day. Man feeds on the meat and sinew of the helpless until we are all...alone. We survive at all costs only to butcher again and again until we ourselves are at last butchered in turn. You were not prepared for me last time, Mr. Tusk. You were not ready for the fight. But this time, it will be different...because I have hardened you. Just to show you how cruel man can really be. And if I have truly brought out the walrus in you...this time...you might just prevail.
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Some years back, I was rescued from the island of Ponder Rock. A mere hour after I had butchered my sweet savior walrus...in order to live. I marked this occasion for fifteen years now...by allowing my flippered friend the fighting chance he never had. So...you will fight me like a walrus! Or you will die!!
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So just as I had to kill you back on Ponder Rock, you have a terrible choice to make here. You have to kill me...if you want to live. And if you live, you will be as a walrus...that you almost are. So...either you go full walrus...or this! (attacks)
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You've lasted longer than the rest. You would kill me if you could. You want to. Your survival instincts...have kicked in. But...so have mine!
Wallace Bryton
Ally Leon
Guy LaPointe
Dialogue
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Border Agent: When you're visiting the Great White North of Canada, you got your Canado's and your Canadon'ts. Right there, top shelf, number one: don't go tellin' a Canadian you don't follow hockey.
Wallace Bryton: Of course. I should have known that. It makes them sad, right?
Border Agent: Canadians don't get sad. Sadness was made by the USA.
Wallace Bryton: Oh, c'mon, what does that mean?
Border Agent: Take off, it's true! Right there, on our flag. It's right there when you look at it, and you see past that sacred maple leaf, you know what you see?
Wallace Bryton: A white wall.
Border Agent: You see that, in America, you're red white and blue, but in Canada, you're red, white, but
never blue, eh?
Ever.
Wallace Bryton: Gotcha. That's actually... I never thought of it that way before. I just thought of Canadians as, you know... nice.
Border Agent: Well, that right there is another Canadon't. We're not nice, we're optimistic. There's a difference.
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Wallace Bryton: How far is Bifrost from here?
Girl Clerk #1:
[in a Canadian accent] It's aboot two hours from here.
Wallace Bryton:
[laughing] It's "aboot" two hours away.
Girl Clerk #2: I hate American guys.
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Howard Howe: Never be ashamed of fear, Mr. Bryton. Fear is the unelected governor that keeps our actions moral.
Wallace Bryton: Who said that?
Howard Howe: I did. Just now.
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Wallace Bryton: A walrus saved your life?
Howard Howe: The walrus is far more evolved than any man I've ever known. Present company included.
Wallace Bryton: Thank you!
Howard Howe:
[poker face] You're welcome.
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Ally Leon:
[of the killer's victims] Did they have anything... sexual done to them?
Guy LaPointe: No, he doesn’t touch them like that. He butchers them. Amputates limbs, cuts out the teeth and tongue...but he don’t do nothing sexy with them.
Teddy Craft: You say you don’t have any leads, but you keep saying "he".
Guy LaPointe: Who else could it be but a fucking man? A woman, she makes life. But a man? Angry he cannot make life? He only know how to take life. The boys on the force nicknamed our mystery killer "The First Wife".
[Ally and Teddy look confused]
Guy LaPointe: Because the first wife doesn’t let you talk, doesn’t let you go anywhere, and doesn’t fuck you. It’s funnier if you’ve been married a few times.
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Howard Howe: You’re not eating?
Wallace Bryton: I can’t move my arms.
Howard Howe: That would be the morphine. It is capitol for the leg pain, and dare I say the only thing keeping you from howling in agony. However, it tends to leave one a bit sleepy.
Wallace Bryton: I’m not sleepy. I’m...immobilized.
Howard Howe: The melancholy that accompanies losing a limb must be akin to that of mourning a close friend you too often took for granted.
Wallace Bryton: There was no spider, was there?
Howard Howe: Of course there was. A brown recluse. Colloquially known as the hobo spider.
Wallace: And you saw it?
Howard Howe: Yes.
Wallace Bryton: You saw the spider?
Howard Howe: I only wish I had spied the creature before it so viciously attacked you.
Wallace Bryton: What’d it look like?
Howard Howe: The arachnid assailant?
Wallace Bryton: Yeah.
Howard Howe: Well...a typical spider. A legion of legs, et cetera et cetera. It was very small, though. So small you might even call it...itsy bitsy.
[singing] The Itsy, Bitsy Spiiiiiiii-der went up the water spout!
Wallace Bryton: Holy shit...
Howard Howe: Down came the rain and washed the spider out! Up come...
Wallace Bryton: LET ME OUT OF THIS CHAIR, YOU FUCKING PSYCHO! LET ME OUT!! LET ME OUT, YOU OLD FUCKING NUTBAG!! HELP!!! SOMEBODY HELLLLLLPPPP!!!!!
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Teddy Croft: We should call the cops or the Mounties or whatever the fuck. We need pros, Ally.
[to LaPointe] No offense.
Guy LaPointe: Go fuck yourself. No offense.
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Kevin Smith: Welcome to SmodCast, I'm Kevin Smith.
Scott Mosier: I'm Scott Mosier.
Kevin: (after talking a little to Scott) There's a website called Gumtree.
Scott: *cooly, but funny-like* Gumtree.
Kevin: Gumtree.com. It's sort of like a Craigslist for rooming and living arrangements. There's a house...and the guy who lives there, he writes an ad. He'll tell you. I mean, he'll tell you what he wants. The arrangement states that it's not available to couples and the seller type is private.
Scott: Okay, so this is the official advertisement.
Kevin: (laughs a little with Scott) This may sound (or seem) too good to be true. (reads the ad) Hello, I am looking for a lodger in my house. I have had a long and interesting life and have now chosen Brighton as a location for my retirement. Among the many things I have done in my life is to spend 3 years alone on St. Lawrence Island. These were perhaps the most intense and fascinating years of my life, and I was kept in companionship with a walrus whom (or who) I named Gregory. Never have I had such a fulfilling friendship with anyone, human or otherwise, and upon leaving the island I was heartbroken for months. I now find myself in a large house over looking Queens Park and am keen to get a lodger. This is a position I am prepared to offer for free (eg: no rent payable) on the fulfillment of some conditions. I have, over the last few months, been constructing a realistic walrus costume, which should fit most people of average proportions, and allow for full and easy movement in character. To take on the position as my lodger you must be prepared to wear the walrus suit for approximately 2 hours each day (in practice, this is not 2 hours every day – I merely state it here so you are able to have a clear idea of the workload). Whilst in the walrus costume you must be a walrus – there must be no speaking in a human voice, and any communication must entail making utterances in the voice of a walrus – I believe there are recordings available on the web – to me, the voice is the most natural thing I have ever heard. Other duties will involve catching and eating the fish and crabs that I will occasionally throw to you while you are being the walrus. With the exception of this, you will be free to do whatever you choose, and will have a spacious double room, complete run of the house (with the exception of my bedroom and my workshop), and use of all facilities within. I am a considerate person to share a house with, and other than playing the accordion my tastes are easy to accommodate. Due to the nature of this position I will need to audition all applicants before agreeing to take the chosen candidate on as a lodger. Please contact me if you have any questions.
Kevin and Scott: *start laughing and the beginning of Tusk was (or is) born*
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