The Killing
Ghosts Of The Past

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A Rosie By Any Other Name

Linden: "That seems unrealistic, Coworker. Given how obviously crazy I am."

Jack: "Mom, I think I'm sick. Maybe from being homeless or from not ever eating food."
Linden: "Progeny, it is probably a virus. Check the green suitcase that we live out of, in lieu of a home, for medications. If they are not satisfactory..."
Holder: "No, just go take care of your kid. Like this one time."
Linden: "Coworker, I have got things under control. We will pick up a name brand cold reliever on our way to investigating this Killing."


Monica: "In a life full of disappointments and shame, I would really most love to talk to you guys about my stalker serial killer son."
Holder: "Yeah, like how you got him put in the system and he got molested?"
Monica: "Um, what?"
Linden: "Monica, I too am harangued by my Coworker for the ways in which I constantly neglect my son. I know how it feels to be a terrible mother. My only hope is that my terrible parenting does not result in murder, like yours did."
Monica: "Fine, he's downstairs in some kind of Silence Of The Lambs sub-basement."

Linden: "You just have to talk to them in their language, Coworker. The language of complete dissociation and altered, flat affect. I would think as a drug addict you would have a better grip on self-loathing."

Ogi Jun Alexi Giffs Gifford Michaelski is curled up in whatever haunted hidey-hole Monica has provided, curled up fetally in a sleeping bag with the tattoo clearly visible. Aww, Alexi. He's like an angel when he sleeps. Like an arsonist, murdering, tattooed sociopathic angel.


Stan: "Mitch, I'm leaving you this voicemail as a performance of masochistic futility. Your remaining children are going crazy and your sister is a prostitute that only accepts fine diningware as payment, while I have accidentally killed like eleven people and pissed off the Mob. Call me back at your earliest convenience, or never. Both promise to be equally depressing."

Stan hangs up, weeps for awhile in different locations around the house, and then goes to listen outside Rosie's door for the depressing music her ghost likes to listen to... Oh wait, as will become clear later it's actually Terry that listens to hipster music from two years ago all night long. So but why does he linger outwith her door? What nihilism moves him?

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The Killing




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