pleased t'meetcha, billy says yer workin' out.
tert card says he's keepin' an eye on ya. since he's a self-servin' liar, helluva ad salesman tho, it means he's jealous. and nutbeem.
nutbeem's obsessed with actual news. makes up for it by manning the sexual abuse desk. can't keep up with the volume there, we're runnin' three, four a week.
card's in charge. ya hear this and that 'bout his typos, but typos is part of gammy bird. everyone gets a laugh, and gets to figger 'em out.
an' billy. well, billy's a writer and a fisherman. me, i'm just a fisherman.
fishin' and the sea is all i am. my pap the same. my boy.
naw, my boy's passed. went to sea and there he rests. bless his bones.
want two things from ya, quoyle. first. you cover every local car wreck, take pictures. front-page photo every week, whether we have a wreck or not, an' we always do. when we don't, we dip into card's file, he's got some beauties.
knack to this. if there's a dark patch on the ground, it reads blood, whether it's motor oil or diet coke. gloves, hat, lyin' in the road.
somethin' that humanizes, makes ya feel. that's what a wreck is. it's always saying, 'there but for the grace of god'
plus. we're starting a feature on the shipping news. what ships come in, what goes out. whatever's of interest. throwin' it to you, son. chance to shine.
chance. to shine.
one peculiarity. i'm no joke, son, and i don't tolerate jokes about newfies. or them that does.
i'm goin' fishin'.
i saw it. and heard from some who'd done the same. good. neatness.
reorganize. start over. good thinking.
got six phone calls 'bout that piece. six. that'd be like half a million calls in toronto.
people liked it, old son. crowd went down to the dock t'see the thing, but it'd already pulled out.
course you don't know anything about boats, but that's entertaining, too. so go ahead with it. that's the kinda stuff i want, see?
from now on, you write a column every week. the shipping news. gonna order you a computer and everything. and y'know the beauty part?
i don't have to tell card all over again, cause he's already eavesdroppin'. so i'm free to take m'leave.
ah. you've an instinct for character and idiosyncrasy, old son.
zip yer fly, card.
jesus cockadoodle christ! i knowed somebody was out here.
thank god fer yer figure, me old son. a thin man woulda froze.
good. yer lost th'boat.
made his own lunch!
hands might as well be movin' while we chat. always hated th' sight a grown men around a table workin' nuthin' but their jaws.
well, tert card's gone, fer one thing.
yar, i know, he never said g'bye. well, don't get all weepy-eyed about it, old son. try t'be a man.
they called him from st. john's, he tells me. wants him to help put out th' newsletter fer them oil rig suppliers.
he was sassy an' he was smug. oh, there's a waitin' list, he assures me. they only skims th' cream.
truth t'tell. i was a wee help. b'hind the scenes, doncha know.
spot i'm in, christmas and all. might have to offer th'mess. to you.
y'know. yer do have the sense god gave a doughnut.
any other outrageous demands? seein' as yer got me over a barrel. here's your one chance.
you were sayin'?
well, there's only one a those issued per family. so how exactly would he do that?
even doughnuts, y'know. can push their luck.
what is this? suicide attempt?