~ fade in ~

On this beautiful spring evening, the setting sun dips behind the Northwest panoramic skyline of row after row of majestic firs, which push upward to the crimson sky, and then dance gently with the wind to their hidden music. Below this exhilarating frieze, in the foreground, can be seen a broad wooden sign which reads:

Twin Peaks Sheriff's Department.

 From here we move down, up the steps and through the doors, inside. In front of the brightly-lit glass-fronted booth that serves as the reception area stand two figures, one tall and gangly, the other much shorter. Music fades into the air, a light and bouncy, almost lazy beat, with bell-like vibes chiming out variations on a three-chord arpeggio, and a gentle percussion with soft brushes on the off beats.
 Lucy's face was blissful as she stared at a tasty looking old-fashioned cake donut, loaded with chocolate icing. She brought it up to her face, then stopped and stared at it perplexed, almost cross-eyed.
 "Andy? I never really noticed before how completely round a donut is! Just look at it! I almost can't bear to eat it." Andy walked over slowly, not taking his eyes off the donut.
 "Gosh, Lucy ... You're right!" He walked around her very slowly ... looking from Lucy's face, to the donut, to Lucy. "It's perfect! Let's eat it together..."
 "Together like at the same time but with different pieces? Or together like the spaghetti in 'Lady and the Tramp'?" asked Lucy.
 "Well I was thinking that maybe we should halve it, cause you know that flu bug's going around and we've got the baby to think about..." Andy saw the disappointment on Lucy's face. "Or we could ... eat it like the spaghetti in 'Lady and the Tramp'." Andy looked deep into Lucy's eyes and melted. They both closed their eyes and moved in for the kiss.  Then the phone rang. Lucy gasped, opening her eyes wide. Andy eyes were still tightly shut, his head thrust forward, his lips still puckered expectantly. Lucy darted quickly round him, into the reception booth, quickly slipping into her seat and putting her headset on. She carefully punched at a couple of buttons and spoke into the receiver.
"Hello, Twin Peaks Sheriff's Department, good eve-" Lucy gasped again.
"GOOD GRIEF!" Her hand flew to her throat where it fluttered like a small bird. "Oh NO!"
 Andy walked over to the booth. "Lucy, what's wro-"
 Lucy flapped her hand at him and loudly shushed him. She listened. "Everywhere?" she gasped. She nodded, quickly disconnected the caller, stabbed at a couple more buttons and waited, making small nervous sounds.
 "oh sheriff Truman please hurry oh sheriff Truman please- Hello? (Pause) Hello? (Pause) Yes! Hawk? Hello! This is Lucy calling. I need to speak to Sheriff Truman on the telephone to tell him that The Twin Peaks Savings and Loan blew up! And there is smoke everywhere! Okay. (Pause) Sheriff Truman! The Twin Peaks Savings and Loan blew up! And there is smoke everywhere! Tim from Tim and Tom's Taxidermy was taking some tourists from Finland from where they were staying, which was at The Great Northern Hotel, to Horne's Department Store because they wanted to buy a matching pair of pleated twill pants to take back to Finland with them, and after he dropped them off he had just driven by the bank when he saw it explode, and so he stopped at the county museum to call it in! He said there was a loud bang, and the front of the building started to crumble, and then the whole wall fell down! Like there was dynamite or something! You'd better get over to the bank!"
 Andy leaned in through the window as Lucy hung up. He looked down at her as she sat there, breathing heavily, both her palms gently massaging her abdomen.
 "Lucy, are you okay?" She nodded briskly and returned to her attempt to control her breathing. "Lucy, I'd better go along too," he said softly. "Sheriff Truman might need some help."
 "Oh, Andy!" Lucy inhaled sharply, her eyes wide. "Promise me that you'll be brave and that you'll be careful?" She reached over and clutched his hands.
 "Yes Lucy. I will be brave and I will be careful ... for the three of us," he said as he gazed at Lucy.
 (In unison) "... Oh, Punky!"

~ cut to ~

 He could feel small pieces of mirror shard in his forehead, tiny little pieces that could barely be seen, but the blood was starting to flow down the side of his face, slowly, in small red droplets. He was looking at his new face, his new flesh-and-blood model, and he admired the blood running down proudly. Suddenly, he was struck with a fit of laughter (to which he was often prone, and usually in the darkest of situations). But now it came out high and nasal from the face of Dale Cooper, only it didn't sound like Cooper at all...the air hit the voice-box differently, producing a different timbre, and it ended up sounding a little like Felix Unger clearing his nasal passages, but something that could sound quite terrifying, if slowed down to 16 RPM. He squeaked out a mock-version of Cooper's firm voice as it would sound if he had just run to a hospital, looking for his Barbie doll bimbo, and he giggled almost to the point of tears in between his words ...
 "How's Annie?...How's Annie?... HOW'S ANNIE??"  Still, he was quite oblivious to how ludicrous his untrained voice-box sounded, he would need to work on that, and soon. He felt positively giddy, and he didn't want to kill any of Peaks' finest just yet. He wanted to explore the territory, get used to this vessel ... Cooper, the skinny, pie-loving, coffee-slurping G-man who thought he could handle making connections with the damned...he and his alter-ego Windom Earle made the same mistake, they thought their puny flesh minds could stand the truths that lie on the Other side. Cooper and Earle can fight their mortal war in the walls of the Lodges now. This world belongs to BOB...
 Just outside the door, Doc Hayward was speaking quietly to Harry.
"Jeez, he's been actin awful strange since you found him, Harry."
 "Yeah, Will, but I'm sure anybody would after what he's been through. No telling how anybody would react."
 "Where did you find him? Where on earth did he go?"
 "You know, I don't know what to say. We went to Glastonberry Grove, and then he was there one moment then gone the next. I waited all night out there, and most of today, just hoping for a sign or something. Then all of a sudden he's back and Annie's lying beside him there. She looked worse than he did, but now I'm not so sure who's worse off.
 "Speaking of Annie, I went and saw her up at the hospital before I came up here."
 "Yeah, she looked pretty beat up when I saw her. Still don't know what happened to Windom Earle. I just hope Annie's okay in a couple of days."
 Doc sighed. "Poor Cooper, he's gonna be a little upset when he sees her. Poor guy."
 They listened for a moment, but it was hard to tell what was going on inside the bathroom.  They began knocking and calling out, "Cooper?"  The knocking and calling became gradually louder each time there was no reply.
 Cooper cleared his throat authoritatively and went through the mock-motions of straightening his tie. He glanced back at the broken mirror and started laughing at the sight of his hair, neatly combed on one side, but sticking up like black peacock feathers on the other ... he quickly grabbed a comb and started working on getting the errant hairs in their proper place. That's when he finally noticed the pounding on the door and the concerned shouts ... Damn. He'd completely forgotten about the Sheriff and the Doctor. The knocking was really starting to get quite annoying. He cleared his throat again, but this time trying for a more serious pitch.
 "Uhhh, Harry, yeah, I'm fine, one second, I just had a brilliant flash..."  Inside, Cooper's hand was pressing a small towel to his cut forehead, and Bob marvelled at the sensations of pain coming from it. It had been too long since he had FELT that, actually FELT it, as opposed to merely inflicting it. He smiled and winked, and Cooper winked back, but his smile looked artificial. Bob concentrated, and the smile evened up, and even opened up, until he was showing all of his perfect pearly whites. Cooper must brush his teeth twenty times a day...Bob made a mental note to start smoking and having his coffee with LOTS of sugar, to demolish all of those years of loving care. He decided the friendly grin was probably his best bet for now, Cooper is friends with just about everyone he meets, so he must be a pretty cheerful guy. Bob winked again at Cooper, and turned to the door.
 He reached for the knob slowly, so that they couldn't hear him approaching from the other side, and then he suddenly YANKED it open to reveal Harry Truman, local goody two-shoes law-dog, and the Physician, Donna Hayward's fake dad, who looked a mite more pale than usual. Either he had something else weighing on his mind besides the local Lodge concerns, or he was about to keel over from the sight of Cooper, grinning from ear to ear, looking like he was about to break into an old showtune at any minute. Bob thought maybe he was overdoing it, and so he turned the wattage down a few degrees.
 Harry stepped up to Coop.  "Coop, I really think you ought to at least let the Doc here give you a once over. You look a little rough, and that fall in the bathroom..."
 Doc joined Harry. "Cooper are you ok? What in the hell happened in there?"
 Coop smiled, said nothing. He looked at Harry.
 Harry said, "Coop, you gave us a start. Are you sure you're okay?"
 Cooper looked at Doc, who repeated, "Cooper are you ok? What happened?"
 Cooper, still grinning, said, "I'm fine. Really. Just got a little woozy for a second back there and I slipped. Look. A mere flesh wound. Nothing to worry about."
 "Well, Let me look and see if you're ok." Doc was pulling his stethoscope from his bag.
 "I am okay." Coop turned to leave the room, but Doc stepped in front of him.
 "WHAT? Agent Cooper you aren't leaving again until I tell you you're ready."
 "I think that sounds like good thinking to me. Coop?"
 "Harry, I'd love to chat with you further, but I've gotta override your authority here, old chum. You know that the Bureau never sleeps. I'm heading down to the diner for some eggs, bacon, doughnuts, coffee with LOTSA sugar, a slice of pie, and the Twin Peaks Gazette. Want to see what's happened to this lovely little town lately, gotta report to Gordo ASAP... I've been so DOGGONE busy tracking Windom Earle. Well, all that's gonna change, I'm gonna take a day or two off, maybe practice some of my old Buddhist love chants, you know, find my CENTER again. So if the Doc wants to examine me, he's gonna have to stand in line behind my pie."
 And with that, Cooper snapped his heels and turned, and he walked briskly out the door, leaving Harry and Doc standing in stunned disbelief...
 "You know, Will, sometimes you never know!"  Harry shrugs, "Perhaps it's for the best; if Lucy wasn't exaggerating too much about that bank fire, it could turn out to be a long night."

~ cut to ~

 Calhoun Memorial Hospital. Moving through the grounds on this clear evening, all looked so peaceful. There was a lush, forest-rich smell of spring in the air; the sweet scent of the Douglas firs was everywhere, borne on a gentle, soothing breeze that streamed over you like intermittent waves of translucent pastel on your skin. The grass was a glorious, vivid green, still brightly visible despite the ever-darkening skies.
 Across the way a small child toddled uncertainly towards its mother, who, despite the thigh-high cast on her right leg and the crutch nestled in her right armpit, managed to lean over and scoop him up like a small sack of oatmeal.
 The groundskeeper, whistling a refrain from 'Londonderry Air', was just finishinf up the trimming of the grass borders, while pretty nurses in immaculate starched white uniforms were everywhere, pushing wheelchairs containing cheerful, smiling patients. One of the nurses waved to another as they passed each other, commenting, "Such a beautiful evening!" Snatches of conversation drifted from these promenades: someone was talking about his daughter's new job, another explained how only a fool would take a 7 1/2 ft., 31/2 oz. rod to go after Sockeye; you'd snap off the tip trying to place the fly. Someone could be heard calling a dog, another person laughed, someone was screaming - a long, sobbing moan cutting through the air - a short distance away from the lawns, people were moving urgently in and out of the main entrance of the hospital, their faces contorted with anxiety. The drop-zone outside the main entrance was clogged with emergency vehicles, and anxious relatives double, triple, quadruple-parking their cars ...
 The flatbed truck roared into the parking lot of Calhoun Memorial Hospital, oblivious to the big yellow speed bumps along the way. From the back of the truck, still handcuffed to the bank vault gate, Audrey cried out in pain. The handcuffs bit into her wrists with every vicious jolt of the truck. Thankfully, the truck soon screeched to a halt just outside the emergency room doors. Audrey breathed a sigh of relief, and yet also felt aware that she was becoming extremely irritated.
The driver of the truck hopped out of the cab and sauntered round to the flatbed on which Audrey was lying. Audrey struggled a bit with the handcuffs, trying to ease the pain. She turned her head to get a better look at the sadistic madman who had driven her here, but before she could say anything, a sharp pain shot through her head. Wincing, she lay back and stopped moving her head - instead closing her eyes and wishing the pain would go away.
 When she opened her eyes, the driver was still standing there, chewing on a toothpick, his thumbs hooked through the belt loops on his jeans. A look of absolute stupidity was stamped across his face, and Audrey just wanted to slap it off him. How dare he stand there and gawk at her while she's chained and helpless!
 A crowd was quickly gathering around now, and by now Audrey was getting furious. She was surrounded by a bunch of slack-jawed morons! Where was an kind, intelligent face when she needed one ...? Audrey raised her head, ignoring the throbbing pain now shooting from her head to every part of her body. Frustrated, she cried out "Will somebody get me off this thing?!"
 The crowd just stared at her, still slack-jawed and in some sort of stupor. Audrey clenched her teeth, her anger becoming apparent to the truck driver. He leaned over her with a look that should have reflected concern but appeared more like a look of great confusion.
 "Uh, would you like us to get you down from there, Miss?" he said, scratching his scrubby gray beard. Audrey studied his face for a second and then laid her head back down, completely resigned to the fact that she was going to be chained to this gate forever ...
 Just as Audrey decided that being chained to a large iron gate had its advantages, help arrived in the form of a bustling young nurse who had come charging out of the emergency room to see what all the hubbub was about. Audrey rolled her head towards the woman as she came up along side the truck.
 "What is going on here?" the nurse demanded, hands on hips, tapping an impatient foot. The truck driver tipped his hat and smiled stupidly at the nurse.
 "Well, you see, ma'am, this here young lady was just at the big bank explosion and, uh...see, we couldn't figure out how to get her off it, so we just decided to bring her down here to you folks to see what you all could do for her. She is a pretty little thing, ain't she?" he finished up his statement with the most lecherous look he could muster. Audrey was about ready to break the handcuffs herself just so she could strangle the man to the ground. But the nurse was far more level-headed than that.
 "I see...well, I suggest you stand back and let me do my job," the nurse replied curtly and leaned over to Audrey. "Honey, do you have a key to these cuffs?"
 Audrey was surprised to say the least, but nodded her head in response. "In my left shoe," she managed to croak out. The headache was getting worse now. Please let this woman remove me from this hell now before I completely die, she thought.
 The nurse reached down to Audrey's shoe and removed it, and there, right where the heel sits, was the handcuff key. The nurse suppressed a withering look she so wanted to direct at the truck driver, and instead went about unlocking Audrey from the gate. She reached up, took the scandalized girl's hand, and helped her down from the back of the truck. Audrey looked up at the nurse, who suddenly seemed so much taller. As the nurse looked down at her, Audrey smiled...and then collapsed in a dead faint. The truck driver just scratched his head and shrugged.
"Funny, I'd have thought she'd be happy to be off that gate!" he said. The nurse turned and unleashed again the withering look. The truck driver moved back a few steps to avoid any serious bodily harm but still didn't take his eyes off Audrey. The nurse bent down, picked up the unconscious girl and without so much as a good-bye or thank you, walked back into the hospital. The truck driver stared after her in astonishment.
 "So much for gratitude!" he mumbled before getting back into his truck and driving to the local junkyard to sell the now available iron gate for some beer money.

 Inside the hospital, people sat with their heads in their hands ... a woman was weeping and a tall man in a black suit was trying to console her - gurneys were everywhere - an arm spilled out from under a sheet pulled all the way up and over a body and lolled terribly, languidly...
 The lights in this part of the hospital were so bright they hurt the eyes, the glare in the reception area diminished towards the back as it fed into a long corridor, which was quite dark by comparison. Every third light or so shorted out briefly every few seconds, casting a darkened flicker on the vague, shadowy shapes that moved with frantic haste from doorway to doorway, from job to job. Down the corridor, past sprinting doctors accompanied by frazzled nurses tripping along behind...
 Up the stairs to the first floor, it was like another hospital up there, white, almost silent (apart from the faint echoes of the commotion coming up the stairs). The corridor was empty apart from one nurse, who was standing turned against the wall in the corner at the near end, whispering to herself, something clasped tightly in her hand.
 At the end of the corridor, on the right, the door to the last room was very slightly ajar.  The room was bright. Very bright white. It was so blurry that it was difficult to make out any shapes. There was a strange, rhythmic beeping noise coming from somewhere, and a heavy breathing sound, somewhat reminiscent of the sound of the astronaut's breathing apparatus in '2001: A Space Odyssey'.

Inhale ... Exhale

pause

Inhale ... Exhale

pause

Inhale ... Exhale

The air smells stale, with a faint tinge of disinfectant.

Something else, too, something familiar. Perfume the kind that Blackie used to get from the department store.

That's it.

It also smells like somebody is cooking dinner.

This doesn't make any sense.

Slowly I realize that the breathing sounds are in time with my own.

Just really loud, like they've been amplified.

What the hell is going on here?

I need to try to focus my eyes.

The room swims before me.

Gradually shapes emerge.

I can see two figures.

I try to focus on one of them.

It looks like a pink blob.

Wait, I think it's a sweater.

A fuzzy one.

Mmm, covering a pair of the shapeliest breasts that I have seen in some
time.

 Ben became lost in appreciation. He looked like he was under the influence of some heavy sedation. After a few minutes, Ben came back to reality. The silly grin started to fade, and he looked up to see his brother Jerry, holding a platter, standing next to him.  "Thanks, Jerry, but I already ate. At least, I think I ate. Where am I?"
 Jerry placed the silver platter he was holding on the chair next to him and knelt at the side of the bed. He took Ben's hands in his, and pressed them to his cheek. Jerry's eyes were closed and his shoulders began to heave, as if the man were wracked with sobs. Ben felt a sneaking sensation of panic creeping up his spine. What's wrong? What happened after...? Then Jerry lifted his head and Ben realised that his brother was not crying, but laughing.  "You're in heaven, Ben, sweet litigious heaven ... and Doctor Death is going to write us a prescription... out of his check-book! He hit you damn hard, Ben, and he'll pay for it, that's a promise!"
 Ben spied a pair of crisp, lightly sautéed julienne carrots sitting at the side of the platter amongst the other crudités Italiennes, and picking them up, popped them into his mouth and crunched on them absent-mindedly.  "Uh uhhos hat ee ah it uhming oo ee (swallow), uh, hmmm ... I was not interfering with their happy family. I just wanted to do the right thing, Jerry, I wanted to set things straight. Donna was asking, and I couldn't lie any longer. I wanted to do what is right, to be the father that I never was. I thought that if I did the right thing, everything else would fall into place."
 "What did you think you could change, Ben? What's done is done. You have to forget the past. You have a family right here. This Donna is not your concern, you should leave well enough alone." Jerry stood and walked over to the girl, who cooed at him and placed her hand on his chest.
 "I guess you're right. I wasn't trying to hurt anybody. Donna had asked me, and I was just answering her question. He should know that she would have asked eventually. He must have hit me pretty hard. I can't remember that..."
 Jerry suddenly looked as if someone just told him Thai cuisine was going out of style.  "Whoa! Hold on there, brother! You remember EV-ery-THING, don't you? You can't go forgetting important details like Doc sucker-punching you with malice aforethought and with the intention to cause severe incapacitation and months of physio hell! The case is IN-THE-BAG, brother Ben. We are definitely expecting rain, and we're gonna be the only ones in court with an umbrella! It has a thousand and one clear and demonstrable precedents! The People Vs Mitchell, 1972, The People V- Harris-"
 "Hold it!" Ben tapped the table with his carrot to emphasise his point. "I don't know if that's the best idea, Jerry. I want to do the right thing. I want to fix things. I can't do it.  I mean, I've known Will since before I can remember."
 "Ben, Ben, Ben, Ben, Ben," Jerry said, sadly shaking his head. "The past is a veil, torn by chance and circumstance." He gestured grandly round the room. "Look around you Ben, what do you see?"
 Ben looked around. "A hospital room?"
 "I don't mean the hospital, Ben, I mean the town! Twin Peaks! It's yours, Ben, and it always will be. This family built this town with good, honest ... kind of honest anyway ... blood and sweat! It wasn't easy. No one handed it to us like so much..." Jerry paused, groping for the right allusion. "...like so much swordfish on a platter! This is YOUR Empire, Ben, OUR Empire! And I'm not about to let some psycho doctor drag you and this empire down into the abyss!"
 Suddenly a sharp sound cut through the air, causing both Ben and Jerry to turn their heads sharply towards the source of the sound. It was Suzy, who they'd forgotten was still there, clapping to beat the band, as if she were at the Oscars ceremony. "That was... so ... nice!" she gasped, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief.
Jerry briefly glared at her, and turned back to Ben, who was again smiling his goofy sedated, lustful smile at Suzy.
 "Well I suppose he didn't have to attack me, I mean, I wasn't doing anything. Are you sure that it is the right thing to do?"
 Jerry smiled reassuringly and patted Ben's shoulder. "Ben, my beloved brother ... when have I been wrong before?"  Ben opened his mouth to say something, but Jerry cut in: "Don't answer that," he said, laughing.
 With a sigh bordering on contentment, Ben settled back against the pillows. "Well, anything for the good of the business. I am coming back, Jerry, and I am coming back in style. Horne's enterprise is going to be on top, and I'm going to take it there. Could you do me a favor? Could you see if they have any cigars in the gift shop? I need a smoke to clear my head."
 "Sure thing, but listen Ben, really, the first thing I'm gonna do is get you outta this Bedlam. The food here is just so ... (cough) ... so, I've arranged for young Suzy here to look after you back at The Great Northern. She didn't quite manage to get round to her nursing exams but otherwise she's fu-lly trai-ned! You'll have plenty of bed rest and lots of..." Jerry cleared his throat and winked, "... personal attention." Suzy giggled and pressed her hands together. "You check out in an hour. Okay ... cigars ... be right back-" Jerry started, then stopped when he saw a look of deep concern crossing Ben's face. "Ben, what-?" he began, but Ben silenced him with a sharp wave of his hand. Jerry turned to look at the door and then he heard the voice too. Jerry looked at Ben. "Is that-?"
 "Yes. Doc Hayward. Must be visiting hours." Ben gave an ironic smile.
 "Well I'm about to tell that brawler that HIS visiting rights are cancelled..."  Jerry brushed past Suzy, and wrenched the door open, just as Doc Hayward had his hand on the handle to enter the room, which resulted in Doc being wrenched into Ben's room. Jerry backed the Doc out of the room and towards the corridor wall.
 "I need to see Ben", Doc says, straightening himself so that he appeared to tower over the smaller man.
 "My broth- my client has been instructed to have zero contact with the man whom he is accusing of attempted manslaughter ... no, wait, er, assault and, haaaah, oh ... an instance of assault so vicious and without-"
 "Listen here buster, I NEED TO TALK TO BEN!"
 "That point is not under discussion here. Save it for the judge, 'Dr'. Diaz..."
 "What? Why you- MOVE out of my way!"
 "My client has been instructed..."
 "I don't care what your client has been instructed! Please leave with that hussy of yours so I can talk to Ben alone!"
 "...not to allow a single ..."
 "BEN?"
 "...attempt to pervert the course of ..."
 "I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME. ..."
 "justice, and furthermore ..."
 "I'm sorry..."
 "GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I HAVE YOU ARRESTED!"
 Doc slowly turned from the door to face Jerry. "On what charge?"
 "Attempted Homicide!"
 "I didn't try to kill Ben! You were not even there, you ... you ... weasel!"  Doc Hayward walked furiously down the corridor away from Ben's room. Jerry stood with his hands on his hips, staring after the dejected figure walking down the corridor, and then turned and gave a little singsong whistle.
 "Suzy? I think it's time I showed you 'The Honeymoon Suite'..."

 The hospital, with its bright, clean, white interior can somehow manage to seem so dark.  The exterior of the building may be a gleaming white, but this doesn't stop it from becoming a place of secretive shadows, which flit across the white corridors, hiding in the closets, following those close to death from bed to theatre to morgue. A moan, curiously deep and hollow, comes from somewhere close and somewhere far away, the sound echoing gently off to nothing.
 The corridor is empty, silent, bright. Footsteps are heard, faint at first and then becoming louder as somebody approaches, the clicks of the heels on the floor reverberating off the walls. A tall blonde nurse approached, striding on long slender legs, her uniform starched, pressed and fitting tight against her body, which was straight out of some kind of adolescent wet dream, perfectly proportioned centerfold stuff. Her wavy blond hair bobbed on her shoulders with the rhythm of her steps, her cupid-bow lips fixed in a determined half-smile, as though she were entertaining herself somewhere behind those glittering blue eyes. She turned the corner and walked on down the corridor with an air of authority, a definite power. Someone who doesn't understand the word 'no.'
 Hospital Food; "Food Fit Only For Attracting Nightcrawlers and Nightmares," as it was once described by a positively nauseated Pete Martell. Brown slop lay next to green slop - yellow slop on Fridays ('fish') - with a taste that would appal even the most gastronomically undemanding. Even the staff averted their noses when they served up a tray of the stuff, all, that is, except for Nurse Mary Christie.   With such a respectable, homely Christian name, the old people of the hospital are happy to see her when she enters their rooms. They smile at her when they first meet her.
 "Hello, dear," they would say when they see her nametag. She would greet them with a smile.
 "And how are we today?"
 "We'll be fine if I find out you've got something I can actually eat for me there." The old woman looked at her hopefully.
 "This is your lucky day," Mary never lost her smile "I've got a lovely, big, juicy steak here for you today. It's medium-rare and smothered in Diane sauce."
 The old woman almost started to dribble.  "Really? Did they shoot the cook or something?" She looked up hopefully at Mary again.
 Mary laughed, then took a tray from the trolley "Bon appetite!" The old woman hurriedly took the cover off the tray, only to see more slop; brown and green. In an instant, all the hope and excitement vanished from her face.
 "Where's the steak?" She was almost crying. Mary laughed again.  "Kitchen's all outta steak. Eat it!"
 "No! I can't eat this!" Mary looked her in the eyes and gave her a deathly glare.
 "EAT ... IT!"
 The old woman stared at Mary and started to cry. "I ... I can't ... Please!"
 Mary smiled her devastating smile and leaned in close. "EAT IT ... OR ELSE."
 The old woman started to tremble.  The room appeared to be darkening. "No. Can't ... oh dear God ... so dark ... I can't eat it!"
 "Come on, dear, it's good for you!" Mary chuckled as she spoke, taking the spoon dripping with brown goo and slowly bringing it towards the old lady's face.
 "... dark food, can't... God, I can't ... can't eat THAT!"
 "I - can - make - you ..." She sang out, and her sadistic smile gradually intensified until it was enough to make the old woman cry weakly out for help.
 Several minutes later, the lovely Nurse Mary Christie stepped from the now silent room, the tray on the trolley. It appeared to have been licked clean. She sighed a little to herself, smoothed down the front of her uniform, then continued down the hall towards the next room. Looking at her clipboard, she saw the name Annie Blackburn, then went into the room.
 Annie lay in bed, not having moved from the previous night when she had been brought in from the woods. Mary leaned in towards Annie, placing her hands either side of Annie's sleeping form, so that her face was resting three inches from Annie's. Mary's breath gently warmed Annie's cool skin. It looked almost as if Mary were trying to read her mind.
 Mary thought about Annie lying there when she was first admitted, the way she had suddenly just stirred uneasily and then whispered:
"... the good Dale is in the Lodge ... write it in your diary ..."
Mary straightened, looked down at the ring now on her own finger. She shivered, and walked out quickly.

~cut to~

 "Well, Miss Horne, you seem to be in excellent shape...oddly enough," the nurse was saying, reading from a chart at the foot of the bed Audrey was perched on. "I would have thought someone in your predicament would be a little worse off. But all you have is some minor bruising on your wrists from the handcuffs. And probably a pretty good headache I suppose."
 "Yeah, well, the Hornes have always been resilient, so it's not surprising to me, nor will it be to anyone else." Audrey prattled on, ignoring the fact that the nurse's eyebrows had risen about 2 feet in the air. If her hairline wasn't so receded, Audrey observed, the stupid things would be in her hair! "And since I am obviously fine and all, I would really like to be getting back home. I have so many things I need to do...there are toilets to clean and linens to fold and do you know how much dust collects in just 24 hours?"
 The nurse was more than happy to release Audrey, and left the room for a moment to get a doctor's signature on the girl's chart. Audrey looked around the room and sighed. It would be so good to get out of this place, away from all these incompetents! The young girl who took her blood pressure was a complete dunce, the guy who took a blood sample was even worse. And to top it all off, Audrey thinks as she throws her head back to look upwards, the ceiling in this place is absolutely filthy!
 Audrey looks back down as the nurse reappeared and held up the chart.  "Well Miss Horne, it would seem you are free to go," she said with a note of relief. "Just make sure to take it easy, get plenty of rest. Oh and here's a prescription for some painkillers the doctor recommends you take. You never know what kind of aches you'll wake up with tomorrow." She held out the prescription slip and Audrey took it with a roll of her eyes.
 The nurse waved her hand toward the door and Audrey walked out ahead of her. Before taking her leave, Audrey turned toward the nurse and with a look of determined smugness, said, "You may want to get a rag and some cleaner and go take care of that bathroom. The grout is simply filthy!" And before the nurse could reply, Audrey turned and made her exit, the stunned nurse watching her back as she beat a hasty retreat.

~ cut to ~

 It seemed like hours, days, WEEKS, since Earle had left the house, at least it did to Leo. However, his time perspective was a little off, because at the moment he was desperately trying to hold the end of a piece of string between his teeth. Normally, this would be an easy task, but not in this situation.
 Leo could still remember some of the last things Earle said to him before disappearing out the door, the words spoken in an almost friendly, sporting way by a face that was white, drawn back, with bright blue, evilly brilliant eyes...
 "Its FEAR Leo! That's the KEY! My FAVORITE emotional STATE! And all this time it's been staring me right in the KISSER! Leo, it's marvellous! The perfect fit, these night creatures that hover on the edge of our nightmares are drawn to us when we radiate FEAR! Their bread and BUTTER!"
 Windom paused.
 "I haven't been this excited since I punctured Caroline's aorta..."
 Then, with the words "Goodbye, old friend ... and good luck", he simply seemed to disappear. Of course, Leo had been concentrating on other things at the time and probably hadn't noticed Earle slipping out the door with the strange silver suitcases in his hands. Leo's attention was drawn upward, following the path of the string, which was connected - barely - to two tacks on the wall, that led over and across it and then down, to a wooden cage that seemed ready to fall apart at any second. It was poised to fall somewhere near Leo's nose.
 Earle obviously hadn't meant the cage to be very sturdy, so that the spiders inside could easily escape when it fell, and ground zero figured to be Leo's face. The situation was taking up all of what Leo had left for braincells, so he wasn't real clear on time. But it seemed like it had been days.
 Leo was sweating profusely, and his head trembled from the realization that he was running out of string - there were only the tiniest threads dangling inside his mouth, and his mouth was tired. He knew the moment of reckoning was going to come very quickly, probably within 30 seconds. He closed his eyes and tried hard to concentrate.
"... time for action ... gotta do this ... gotta jump as far away from it as I can ... gotta save Shelley ... god ... if there is a god ... help me out of this and I swear I will change my ways and make it up to her and anyone else I've ever hurt ... give me one more chance ... shit I've gotta do it ... just do it and ... do it do it do it ..."
He opened his eyes, and tears were coming down both cheeks. With a sudden determination and burst of a will to live, Leo opened his mouth and let loose of the string ...
 It seemed to him that he slightly hesitated before he jumped to the right, but that's impossible because the cage would've hit him in the face as it made its downward spiral ... still, he clearly saw it moving toward him like a bullet, and he moved far enough to the right that the cage landed about 4 inches to the left of his head. A rush of adrenaline, better and more intense than from any coke he had ever snorted, coursed through his system. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the black shape flying up, arcing, and coming down toward him. He started to think - MOVE! - but before his body would respond, he felt the furry, black and orange beast land on his left cheek.
 Desperately, he swiped at it with his right hand, but he missed, and only brushed its backside. Apparently, this was enough to anger the arachnid, for it bit into Leo's cheek, and he felt it enough to scream before he swiped his cheek a second time and removed it, tossing it across the room. Now, Leo DID move, and fast, escaping the other spiders and running out the door of the house, sprinting into the dark woods beyond.
 He couldn't tell what time it was, the full moon was out and gave him enough light to be able to see through the trees as he ran, and the night creatures made song ... Leo's heart soared, it was the greatest emotional feeling he had ever had. He had escaped, and the remaining flop sweat started to dry up in the cool night air. He took off the old red robe and threw it to the ground, increasing his pace into the deep forest.
 The spider bite only bothered him a little, it was starting to itch but he ignored the feeling, running determinedly towards the south, at least he thought it was south ... then again, he didn't know quite how far south Twin Peaks would be from here ... he stopped trying to think rationally and just concentrated on the jog. He felt positively 'born again'...
 But that bite was itching like a bastard ... and the now incessant itch was spreading...

~ Morning at Big Ed's Gas Farm ~

 Nadine was in the kitchen rummaging through the cupboards for something to eat. She carelessly threw aside various boxes of crackers and cans of soup before she stumbled onto her package of half-eaten chocolate chip cookies. Her eyes lit up and she immediately stuffed one in her mouth. She set the package down, grabbed a glass and sloshed cola into it. Carefully balancing the cookies, glass of cola, and a platter of smoked ham, Nadine made her way towards the living room.
 Sitting on the couch, she set her food and beverage on the coffee table. She fumbled around the couch for a moment and retrieved the remote control from under the cushion to her right. She aimed and the television slowly came to life. Mumbling under her breath something about Ed's promises and no cable she finally settled on her favorite soap opera, Invitation To Love. Nadine plucked a cookie from the package and expertly dunked it into the cola; letting it linger for a moment before quickly inserting it into her mouth. Crumbs fell off and settled on her sweatshirt. She seemed not to notice.

~ later ~

 She shuffled dismally to the window, parted the drapes slightly and peeked out at the gas farm. Ed's truck was not there. Just Chuck's old battered station wagon. She was tempted to walk across the street and demand that Chuck tell her where Ed is. Instead she shook her head and let it hang for a moment before returning to the couch.
 "Where is he? I just bet he's with that tramp! To think of it! There I was, suffering an extreme medical condition and he's out dandying around with her! I must be the fool of the town. Well, no more! This all ends now. Nadine is nobody's fool!"
 Nadine grabbed her glass and proceeded to gulp the whole soda down even as it spilled down her front. She wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve, jumped to her feet and leapt and cavorted madly around the room, like a cheerleader from hell, shouting, "Nobody's fool! Nobody's fool! Nobody's fool!"

~ cut to ~

 Harry and Andy stood outside Harry's office, talking. Lucy sat in reception, looking down at something she had written. Every few seconds her head popped up and she looked over at Andy. Then she quickly went back to her notes again.
 "...and then he said to me that the socks were both different colours. 'They look the same to me' I said. Then he said that if I didn't leave the store he was gonna call the police! Then when I told him I was a Deputy with the Sheriff's department, he chased me out with a golf club..."  Andy was interrupted by a booming voice, fast approaching.
 " ... NOTHING LIKE SOME GOOD OLD-FASHIONED YODELING TO MAKE A FOUR HOUR CAR RIDE FLY BY, HEY ALBERT?" The distinctively nasal twang of FBI regional chief Gordon Cole was audible for miles. He appeared in the doorway, following FBI agent Albert Rosenfield, whose face was contorted in a pained grimace.
 "Harry, if you have any mercy in your soul, I hope you will find somewhere in your heart the common decency to shoot me and end my aural misery," Albert said, grimly. Truman opened his mouth to say something when he was cut off.
 "SHERIFF TRUMAN!" Gordon shouted. "GOOD MORNING! HOW'S COOP? WHAT'S THE STORY? WHAT THEY TOLD ME BACK AT THE BUREAU MADE ABOUT AS MUCH SENSE AS A SACK FULL OF MONKEYS."
 "THANK YOU FOR COMING DOWN, GORDON!" Harry shouted back.
 "THAT MAY BE, BUT IT'S TOO EARLY TO SAY. ALSO HEARD THE BANK WENT BOOM-BOOM. YOU HAVE MANY CASUALTIES?"
 "WE'RE WAITING FOR THE FINAL COUNT. LOTS OF TREASURY AGENTS DOWN HERE TOO.  GORDON, I DON'T KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN THE SITUATION WITH AGENT COOPER. I THINK IT WOULD BE BEST FOR YOU TO TALK TO HIM PERSONALLY. I WAS JUST ABOUT TO SUGGEST THAT I TAKE YOU AND ALBERT TO SEE HIM!"
 Gordon patted Sheriff Truman on the arm.  "THANKS HARRY, BUT ANOTHER TIME. WHY DON'T YOU TAKE ME AND ALBERT TO SEE COOP INSTEAD. LET'S GET HIS SIDE OF THE PICTURE."
 Suddenly Harry reacted like something hit him; he almost grimaced, and turned to Andy.  "I almost forgot. Andy, would you please head out to the Mibbler place and tell Mrs. Mibbler that her son has passed on," he said in a low voice. "And Andy, keep yourself composed. I know it's a tough job, but I am counting on you."
 "Sure thing, Harry." Andy said this with all the confidence he could muster.  He turned and was just about to leave when Albert, almost exploding with mocking incredulity, suddenly interrupted him.
 "WAIT WAIT WAIT! One second hold on one second! That drooling cabbage-head Mibbler fella was 84 when the bank fell on him, right? WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS AN EIGHTY-FOUR YEAR OLD GUY DOING WITH A MOTHER?"
 "I'll thank you to speak of Dell Mibbler with respect, Mr Rosenflower! He was ... a really nice ... nice old guy!"
 Harry looked at Andy - "Thanks Andy ..." - and then went on to explain The Mibbler Situation to Albert.  "Dell Mibbler is actually Dell Mibbler VIII or maybe IX. He started working at that bank when he was just fifteen. His grandfather, Dell Mibbler II or III helped build the bank. Really, Albert, we're not sure anymore who's the child and who's the parent. Those Mibblers all kinda look the same now. Andy might tell his sister, or his aunt and nobody would know the difference. I just hope one of them can remember which Dell this Dell was. They're all as crazy as bed bugs!" There was the sound of somebody else talking over what Harry was saying and everyone turned to see Lucy standing in reception saying something.
 "What's that, Lucy?" Harry called over.
 "Sheriff Truman, you can tell the Mibblers apart by their moles. My mother always says: 'The older the Mibbler, the hairier the Mibbler's mole.'"
 "Watch the local law enforcement team in action," Albert announced, "identifying the victim's SURVIVING relatives by their distinguishing marks."
 "Thanks for the information, Lucy." Shouting again, Harry beckoned to Gordon. "FOLLOW ME GORDON!" As they walked into the Sheriff's office, Harry turned to Albert, who was still shaking his head in disbelief at the story he just heard.  "You may have to shoot me before the day is over, Albert. Coop smashed his head into a mirror and I am the one with a headache."
 The three men walked into the room in which Dale Cooper sat; his back turned to them, a silent, unmoving figure. A glaringly untouched plate of donuts sat in the center of the table. Coop didn't even turn around when Gordon addressed him, standing behind his chair, declaiming right at the back of his head.
 "COOP! IT'S GORDON, ALBERT AND HARRY. DEPUTY ANDY'S OUT DEALING WITH THE MIBBLER SITUATION. WE GOT THE WORD YOU'D HAD SOME KIND OF KOOKY EPISODE." Gordon walked round to face Cooper. "WHEN AN AGENT STARTS TRASHING THE BATHROOM OUT IN THE FIELD, WE FIGURE IT'S ABOUT TIME TO REEL HIM IN AND CALL A TAXIDERMIST." Harry and Albert exchanged glances, and then Albert brushed briskly past Gordon and stood before Coop holding his stethoscope, the plugs already in his ears. He waggled the end of it at Cooper.
 "C'mon. You know the drill, Coop."  Cooper stood, took off his jacket, folding it and laying it on his chair, and then removed his shirt. Albert held the stethoscope to Cooper's back.
 "Turn your head and cough, Coop. I know you wouldn't let that decrepit quack Dr. Haywire check you out and I applaud your judgement. But you're getting my opinion, like it or not." Cooper only stared ahead, while Albert continued his torrent of complaints. "After this I have to sift through the bank rubble and identify inbred bankers by their sole remaining tooth. I don't see why you're so in love with this bizarre backwater burg, Coop. Since you've been here you've been shot, harassed by insane Icelanders, been investigated by the Canucks, nearly killed by some French-speaking slimeball and sucked into the Twilight Zone. I await the day we receive a report from Diane that you've been eaten by Bigfoot."
 "I feel fine, Albert," Cooper said, his voice oddly flat. Then he smiled a grin just a little too wide for his face. "Really, I am. Gordon, it's good to see you."
 "THAT'S RIGHT COOP, THEY FOUND YOU IN THE WOODS. ALBERT, WILL HE HAVE TO GO TO THE I-C-U?"
 Albert winced again, and began looking in Coop's ears. "So ... let's talk about what's new since we last saw you."
 "You've seemed a little ... odd, Coop," Harry suggested.
 "I'm fine, Harry." Cooper smiled at him. "Everything's fine. You said Annie was fine, didn't you?"
 "Yeah, she's still resting up in the hospital."
 "Coop...." Albert looked directly into Cooper's eyes. "I gotta ask. What happened to Windom Earle?"
 Cooper took a deep breath before answering in a flat, emotionless voice.  "He's gone now, Albert. Harry, Gordon, we don't have to worry about him anymore. He's ... gone."
 There was a long moment as everyone waited for more information from Cooper. When nothing came, Albert answered with a terse, "Well, good."
 "So ... do you believe me when I say I'm fine?"
 "Fit as a fiddle, as far as I can tell."
 Cooper shook his head. "Harry, GORDON, I'm sorry ... I can't remember too much from the past few days."
 "That's all right, Coop. We'll figure all of this in due time."
 "NEW TIME?" Gordon looked at his watch, frowned, shook his wrist and held the watch to his hearing aid. "ARE WE ON DAYLIGHT SAVINGS ALREADY?"
 Cooper reached for his shirt. "If you fellows are finished probing me, I'd like to go see how Annie's doing."
 "Sure thing, Coop," Harry said. "Hawk'll drive you over."
Cooper left the office without saying a word. At that moment the intercom crackled to life.
 "Sheriff Truman?" Lucy's distinctive Betty Boop voice interrupted them. "There's a call for Bureau Chief Cole on line one. Agent Stanley from the Portland field office."
 "GORDON, YOU HAVE A PHONE CALL," shouted Harry.
 "PARDON ME, HARRY, I JUST REMEMBERED I WAS SUPPOSED TO CALL AGENT STANLEY AT THE PORTLAND FIELD OFFICE. HE'S GOT THE WHITMAN MARK TWO I TOLD YOU JUST ABOUT UP AND RUNNING. SAM'S FROTHING AT THE MOUTH." He exited the office.
 "Alright, ya big lug, you've convinced me," Albert said in a low voice. "Cooper clearly has lost even more of his marbles."
 "What convinced you?"
 Albert shook his head. "It was the reaction to Earle. If Windom were actually dead, Cooper wouldn't act like that. Harry, you and I can't imagine what he put Cooper through ..."  Harry looked away, watching Coop leave the station. His face betrayed that he knew Cooper's pain.
 "If Earle's dead, I'll dance an Irish jig on his grave. And Cooper would join me. No, judging by that reaction ... I think we have to assume that Coop is not his normal self ... and that Earle is alive."

~ Back at Big Ed's Gas Farm ~

 Nadine stormed across the street towards the gas farm. She threw open the door, almost knocking it off its hinges, and charged across the room towards Chuck.
 Chuck looked nervously at Nadine and backed toward the wall. Although his voice was usually a deep baritone, it came out first as a squeaky soprano, before settling back at its regular timbre. "Mrs. Hurley! Wh- what can I do for you?" Nadine came closer and looked fiercely at him.
 "Chuck! Where is he?!"
 "Uh, who would that be, ma'am?"
 "Don't play dumb, Chuck ...ED!"
 "Oh, why- yeah, of course, Ed. Wellll, umm, he left about an hour ago. He's not here."
 Nadine sneered at him and her voice took on a harsh, mimicking tone.
 "'He left about an hour ago. He's not here.' Well, gee, thanks Chuck! That helps me so much! YOU IDIOT! I can SEE that with my own EYE! The information I'm lacking is WHERE HE IS!"
 Chuck lowered his eyes and mumbled, "I don't know, ma'am. He just told me to watch the store for a couple of hours. 'No problem' I told him, 'take your time.' " A bead of sweat rolled down Chuck's tanned forehead.
 Nadine's face contorted into a twisted smirk. "Wonderful. Great. Chuck, I need to borrow your car."
 Chuck eyed her doubtfully and stuttered, "I d-don't kn-know, Mrs. Hurley. That car's just about all I've got."
 Nadine walked to the cash register, emptied it, and shoved the cash in Chuck's hand. "Now, Mr. Stephens, about the car ..."
 Nadine raced out of the lot, heading straight for town, kicking back a huge cloud of dust as the wheels roared furiously round...
 The tortured sound of the screeching wheels fades away.

~ fade to black ~

 Fade in on a brightly coloured cocktail umbrella. The background is a beach mural; we hear music in the background, classic Hawaiian kitsch. Then to a desk. Jacoby is sitting dozing off when a phone rings. He woke up startled and turned off the music and picked up the phone.
"Jacoby. Hmm? No, she hasn't been here. She's what? Ohhhh boy. Ok Ed. I'll be right over." He replaced the receiver and sighed. "Well, so much for my catnap."
 There was a knock at the door. Jacoby got up, went to the door, and opened it, finding Mike Nelson standing on the step, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jacket.
 "Hey Dr. Jacoby. I don't have an appointment or anything, but ... can I talk to you for a second?"
 "Uhhh ... Sure why not. Uh, c'mon in." He led the young man inside. Jacoby headed for his chair and sat down, crossing his legs. Mike stood in the centre of the room, his hands still jammed in his pockets. "What do you need Mike?"
 "Well Dr. I was ... well I was wondering if, well ... (sigh) Nadine came back to herself yesterday. She hates me now. I want her back to the Nadine I knew. I love her, and I don't think Ed will mind, with him and Norma going out and all. Is there any way for us to get the old Nadine back?"
 Dr. Jacoby rocked lightly back and forth in his chair as he thought it over. "Well. I don't really know. I'm really not sure how we could get her back in that frame of mind. Well, on the other hand ..."
 Mike replied urgently from within the dressing that swathed his head.  "What? How?"
 Dr. Jacoby smiled. "We could hit her on the noggin again?"

~ Fade to The Double R Diner ~

 Seven customers sat at tables eating their orders and sipping coffee. A gentle rock'n'roll love song was playing on the jukebox. Shelley Johnson stood behind the counter, cleaning up the remains of their meals.
 A squeal of tires and the spray of gravel hitting the window caused her to look up. Shelley, who had been enjoying the post breakfast rush change of pace, closed her eyes and shook her head, She moaned, low and guttural, as a streak of red flew past the window. Shelley lips moved slightly; you could just about hear her say, "Oh no, not today. Just go away."
 Nadine burst through the doorway, causing it to slam loudly against the wall, looked around the large room and shrieked like a banshee, "Where is she?! Where is Norma?!"
 
~ cut to ~

 A woman walks down a long corridor. Pictures hang on the walls from left to right, old maps of the area, of heavily bearded, grizzled trappers seated in grim unsmiling rows. She reaches the end of the corridor.
 Catherine paused a moment outside the doorway and, smiling, shook her head. Then she straightened herself, opened the door and walked into the room. Ben was lying in bed, a bandage around his head, a carrot sticking out of his mouth which was set in a sulky pout.
 Invitation to Love was playing on the TV set. Ben looked rather surprised to see Catherine, and immediately tried to collect himself as best he could under the circumstances.
 "Back so soon?"
 Ben sighed and removed the carrot. "They said I checked out and I could go home. Jerry's given me this honeybunny of a nurse, whom, incidentally, I thought you were when you walked in just now, and worst of all, Jerry is sitting downstairs in my office, with his feet on my desk, smoking my cigars and ... let's just say, this period of enforced recuperation is driving me crazy."
 Catherine ignored what he was saying. "Ben, what have you done? Did you really think that telling the truth is always a good thing? I hope you've learned your lesson."
 Ben slowly removed the carrot from his mouth and pointed it at Catherine. "Ah Catherine. I suppose you wouldn't understand, since telling the truth has never been a factor in your actions. I wouldn't expect you to understand how wonderful it feels to be good for a change."
 Catherine sighed. "Okay, well I'll tell the truth now. You're so spoiled - even when we were children. You wanted everyone's toys and then you broke them into pieces and made us buy back each piece separately. Deceitful since the day you were born. Don't forget what you did to me, and think that I don't remember ... You would be happier if you just faced yourself in the mirror and accepted everything for what it is."
 "I don't understand you, Catherine," Ben retorted. "It's perfectly fine for you to hold a grudge, to constantly remind me about every single time that I managed to outsmart you, but you refuse to look at yourself. You wouldn't even offer your testimony, even though it could have saved my life, unless you got something out of the deal. And I'm the one who's spoiled? I've done a lot of soul-searching lately Catherine. Perhaps you would benefit from doing the same."
 Catherine walked over to the bed. "Look, I'm not here for the pleasure of being insulted by you. Rather, I'm here to discuss business. If you are genuinely so concerned for the plight of the pine weasel, I have good news. I've looked over the map of Ghostwood Forest and consulted some 'weasel experts' and I've re-drawn the map for the development. Now, the greatest population of pine weasels is spared and they will thrive. The only things we'll lose now are some ugly trees in that Glastonberry Grove, and some other scruffy, dreary areas. So, now you've nothing to protest. Unless, of course, you want to start a campaign to save the Douglas Firs."
 Ben looked shaken for a second, but finally said, "Well, my team of environmental experts will be more than happy to look over the proposed changes, but these things can take some time."  Catherine smiled deviously and slid a hand under the covers moving up along Ben's leg. Ben smiled, and continued talking.
 "It's not just your so-called "weasel experts" that should be involved, you know. We will need to do a whole environmental impact survey of the area. It's impossible to tell how a proposed development will affect an ecosystem without a comprehensive study. Perhaps you could send a briefing of the proposed changes to my legal team for perusal."
 He smiled, and placed his hand on hers. "It's such a waste of energy fighting each other, you know. It's much more pleasurable when we work together. Just think what we could accomplish-"
 "YOU BASTARD! ...Who haven't you slept with in this town?" A voice from behind them startled them both. They looked to the door, where Sylvia Horne was standing. "I am fed up with this farce of a marriage. I am tired of making excuses and covering up for you. I can't go on like this; I can't continue to look the other way. I want a divorce, NOW."
 Catherine rose from the side of the bed. "I guess now you really have your hands full, and not in the way that you like. We'll discuss any ... other possible mergers another time."
 She left the room, icily slipping by Sylvia as Sylvia and Ben glared at each other. On the television, Jade threw a drink in Chet's face. As the liquid dripped from Chet's glasses, the music swelled and the words 'Invitation ... to Love' were intoned.

~ cut to ~

 Nadine glared angrily at Shelley, who had her arms crossed sternly over her chest and was tapping her toes impatiently.  Shelley's normally bright and friendly eyes look dark and cold. "Norma's out," she replied dryly in a tone that almost sounded as if Shelley were ordering Nadine to leave.
 Nadine stalked quickly towards the counter, her rubber-soled tennis shoes squeaking sharply on the diner's floor. In those short moments Shelley noticed Nadine's appearance with increasing disgust.
Nadine's bright red hair was greasy and full of 'rat's nests'. Her face was colorless, the exception being her single eye, which was bloodshot (from crying, Shelley presumed). She wore a red sweatsuit that was beyond filthy. The neck was saturated with some dark fluid - coffee? Shelley wondered - The front of her shirt was covered with crumbs from cookies, crackers, potato chips and pound cake. It looked as though Nadine had been using it as a tablecloth, napkin, hand towel and handkerchief. There were stains that appeared to have hardened over time; ranging from mustard yellow to a dark, filmy brown. Her pants hung loosely from her thin frame, much cleaner than her shirt, yet still dingy from prolonged wear. Her beat up, white tennis shoes she wore with no socks.  Shelley thought to herself, "What in the hell has she been doing? Even on my absolute worst days, I look better than that!"
 Nadine reached the counter and slapped her pale hands down on the counter. The sound reverberated round the silent diner like a rifle shot. Her one-eyed gaze penetrated deeply into Shelley's eyes, making her cringe slightly. She looked Shelley up and down before starting in on her.
 "What's that, Missy?" Nadine snidely asked.
 Shelley glanced at Nadine with a contemptuous look on her face before spitting out, "I said, Nor-ma is out!"
 "Out. I'll bet she's out! Out with my husband, that tramp! Oh -" Nadine started hysterically when Shelley abruptly cut her off mid-shriek. She glared furiously at Nadine and started to yell back at her.
 "Wait just a minute, Mrs. Hurley. You just can't go around demanding and insulting people in their own place of business! Please leave now and let these customers get back to their meals! In peace!"
 Shelley looked around nervously and saw that the diners were all staring at them, obviously enjoying the spectacle. She saw one of the customers wink and smile at her in a light-hearted manner. She sighed deeply and spoke in a pleading tone.  "Please, there's nothing more to see here. I will be right over with warm ups for your coffee."
 Shelley looked coldly back at Nadine and in a very matter-of-fact tone whispered, "Look, Norma asked me to watch over things for a couple of hours; said she had some errands to run. This is usual, okay, Mrs. Hurley? Nothing to get excited about. Why don't you just walk out of here, nice and quietly and let me return to my work? I'll tell Norma you stopped by."
 With that said, Shelley turned away before Nadine could reply, picked up a pot of coffee and walked around the counter. She leaned over a corner table and proceeded to refill a diner's cup.  Shelley looked into a pair of clear blue eyes and spoke in a clear, serene voice.
"Morning, Dave. Sorry about the disturbance." Shelley rolls her eyes and grins.
 Dave, a quiet man who was employed at the mill, motioned for Shelley to come closer. He looked at her, his eyes dancing, and whispered, with a laugh in his voice.  "Don't you worry about that, Miss Shelley. Everybody knows she's the town koo- koo." He laughed quietly and took a sip of his coffee before saying, "Damn good coffee this morning. Thanks for the warm up, Shelley."
 Shelley caught his wink and smiled. She started to turn away when the sound of breaking glass startled her. They hadn't noticed that Nadine had been listening very carefully to their conversation. She had spun around the counter and accidentally knocked a glass to the floor. Although the sound of glass breaking made Shelley jump, it made Nadine's face twist into a devilish grin. She looked first at Shelley and Dave and then slowly at all of the diners, making them all shift in their seats.
 She chuckled quietly to herself for a moment or two and then suddenly started to cry out loudly, like some demented bird.  "Town koo-koo! Town koo-koo! Oh, Oh! Koo-koo!"  Nadine collapsed to the floor, consumed by a fit of evil laughter that made Shelley shiver, almost dropping the coffee-pot. Nadine writhed as though she were acting out a scene from The Exorcist. Shelley looked on in horror as Nadine crawled up a counter stool until she was off the floor, standing. She slowly turned her head round the diner to glare at all the customers.
 "You all think this is funny, don't you? Crazy ol' Nadine's got herself worked up again! You think this is funny? Well, watch this!"
Nadine turned towards the counter and grabbed a plate from the busser's tub. She threw it with an incredible force against the wall and laughed maniacally at the customers cowering down in their seats. Shelley shrieked and started crawling towards the counter, coffee-pot still in hand. Nadine continued to hurl more dishes from the tub.  "NOBODY'S FOOL! NOBODY'S FOOL!" is all that could be heard above the din.
 Shelley managed to sneak behind the counter and reach the phone without attracting Nadine's attention. She reached out with a shaking hand and dialled 911. Shelley crumpled to the floor and attempted to conceal herself behind a stainless steal cart. She looked questioningly at the coffee-pot and set it down on the tile floor.  "Come on, come on," Shelley whispered impatiently as the phone rang on and on.
 Lucy's cheery voice asked brightly, "Twin Peaks Sheriff's Station, how may I direct your call?"
 Shelley answered in a ragged whisper, "This is Shelley Johnson at the Double R Diner. I need some officers down here immediately! Hurry please!"
 The voice, still cheery. "Okay, what seems to be the problem? Hell-"
 Lucy was abruptly cut off as a plate slammed against the phone, knocking it off the wall. Shelley had been discovered. Shelley looked up in horror to see Nadine staring down at her, grinning from ear to ear.
"Well, well, well. What is this I see? Who's the pathetic one now?" Nadine said in a frighteningly normal tone.
 Shelley put her hands up to protect herself from the next blow. It never came. Nadine was looking at all of the customers and laughing quietly at them. They were all under their tables, looking up fearfully at Nadine, wondering what was going to happen next. Nadine smiled at them broadly and spoke.
 "Who's laughing now? Fools! All of you!"
 A siren's wail could be heard in the distance as the scene faded out. Shelley in corner, Nadine brandishing a coffee cup.

~ fade to ~

 Andy and Lucy stand close to the reception area at the Sheriff's station. Andy is holding a large book and Lucy is carrying a small pail. In this pail is a large bullfrog, which occasionally sounds out a loud croak from the three inches or so of water it's sitting in.
 "Andy, I think we should seriously consider painting the baby's room orange. I read once that it helps them to develop eyesight more evenly in both eyes," Lucy said as her eyes searched the floor.
 "Orange? Lucy, are you crazy? Orange is a hot colour!" Andy stood up from where he had been sitting and reading a book about babies. "It says in here, Lucy, that babies must at all times be in rooms which have cool coloured walls so..." Andy scanned the page slowly "... as to assist them in remaining calm and to increase their chances at having good karma when they grow up."
 Lucy gasped. "There goes another one!" She pounced on the amphibian that had begun to leap its way across the reception area and placed it in the pail with the first frog. They both began to croak.  "Also, I think we should put the crib near the window, because it says in this book Agent Cooper loaned me all about the ancient Japanese legend of Fang Shoe, it says that if we put stuff near windows then our baby'll be rich and famous and it'll be happy forever!" He smiled at her as though it were already a done deal.
 "But, Andy, remember that time that it was raining and the wind was blowing and the tree outside fell over and almost broke the window? What if that happened while our baby was in its crib by the window?" Lucy continued to scan the floor.
 Andy looked at Lucy, thinking hard. "Ahhh ..." Andy started looking through the book ... "... Umm ... the baby's gonna have good karma, Lucy, and this book says that means that nothin' bad's ever gonna happen to it ... I think." She straightened and Andy came to her. He stared into her eyes and puffed out his chest like a duck. "I'll protect you both, Punky."
 "Oh, Andy," Lucy breathed, as she melted into his arms. Andy breathed heavily, trying to be manly ... he paused and looked at her ... she gazed into his eyes, he stared longingly back.
 "Lucy?"
 "Yes, Andy?"
 (Croak!)
 "Would you like the last donut?"
 (Croak!) (Croak!)

~ cut to ~

 In the hospital, Pete was lying in his bed with light bandaging on his left arm and the right side of his head. He looked extremely fed up. He reached over, rather awkwardly, to the tray of hospital food and pushed it away.
 (Under his breath) "You gotta be kiddin'..."
 There was a gentle tap on the door and Catherine walked in. She was dressed from head to toe in black. With a tiny gasp her face crumpled with compassion at the sight of Pete, and she began to speak.
 "Oh, Peter..."
 Pete looked in Catherine's direction and smiled weakly.  "Catherine! You're not gonna believe me, but I'm glad you're back."
 Catherine found a chair and sat at his side.  "Pete... I should have known that Eckhardt would plan such a diabolical act to take place. How could I believe that he would play fair? If I were him I would have done the same thing."
 "Catherine, I won't allow you to blame yourself for what happened to me." Pete shivered. "I had a bad feeling that something bad was gonna happen when I woke up yesterday morning. I should've listened to that little voice. It's stopped me from making the worst mistakes of my life but yesterday I ignored it because I was curious."
 Catherine knelt at Pete's bedside. "I feel absolutely dreadful."
 Pete extended his hand and waited for Catherine to gently clasp it.   "One of these days you're gonna have to stop playing these dangerous games. There are so many other things you could do instead of all this scheming. Good things. Things that can create a change inside you, Catherine. The world's a beautiful place sometimes. You just gotta open your ... (Pete suddenly seemed petulant and distant) ... open your eyes."
 "I know my way of life is in need of some serious revaluation," Catherine sighed.
 Pete looked upwards with deep regret. "Poor Audrey ... that poor, dear girl ..."
 Catherine broke Pete's mournful reverie with an undertone of urgency in her voice.  "Pete, can you remember anything of what happened at the bank? Do you know where Andrew is? It's very important. He had some papers in his coat that he was to deliver to the bank while he was there, about the Ghostwood finances."
 Pete shook his head.  "It all happened so fast- I remember Andrew opening up the lock box. I remember it took us forever to get there because ol' Dell was escorting us inside. You know how he moves, hon ... about as fast as a Mule deer with three broken knees. Then all of a sudden I'm on the floor, the ceiling falls in ... I lost sight of Andrew, and I blacked out. There was so much fire ..." Pete begins to weep.
 "Pete..."
 Pete composed himself and patted Catherine's hand.  "It's okay, poodle ... I guess I'm just a little scared. I mean I won't ever be able to see your face again. I won't ever be able to see the birds fly or the clouds go by. A trout's leap or the gambolling of a little lamb..." He paused and Catherine rolled her eyes. He went on. "I'm in total darkness and it's just becoming clear to me. I'm scared ... This is going to be hard for me to get used to. Will you help me?"
 Catherine spoke very hesitantly. "Of course, Pete. After all, you are still my husband. Until ... death do us part."
 Pete looked a little nervously in Catherine's direction.

~ cut to ~

 A close-up of a plate with a small piece of donut resting on the white crockery, a few crumbs scattered here and there. A thumb and index finger appear and snatch up the remaining chunk. The plate is pushed away, several coins drop down onto the counter and bounce on its hard surface, spinning rapidly, elliptically...
 It is late afternoon. The diner is quite busy, most of the booths are taken, but the counter is two-thirds free.  At the very end of the last free third, a young man sat on the stool. He was sitting hunched over an exercise book, writing at great speed. The pen raced across the page, the end of the ballpoint tearing the paper in places with the force of the pressure applied.
 Norma approached him from the other side of the counter, holding a cup of coffee and wearing a big smile for this nervous boy who comes in at least twice a day, and who thinks she doesn't know how he stares at her, the longing in his eyes. She placed it in front of the young man and turned, calling over her shoulder for Shelley to get that club sandwich order out.
 She turned back to him and waited for a moment, expecting his customary stuttered word of thanks and goofy, bashful grin, but instead he just continued scribbling. All she could see was the top of his head, his back curved over the book he was writing in. Norma executed a faint curtsey.  "You're welcome!" She smiled down at him, shaking her head as she turned to get another regular his cup of strong Joe.
 The pages turned, the pen scratching word after word on them. The coffee steamed before his nose but he was barely aware of the aroma, unaware of the sounds of people around him.
 Shelley was standing with her back to the jukebox talking to Bobby. A hand crept toward the jukebox behind her and quietly dropped a coin in the slot, quietly pressed two buttons. The jukebox suddenly burst into life and Shelley jumped, dropping the stack of plates she was holding. Some diners clap and cheer, and others laugh. Shelley reddened and called out: "Thanks guys, I really needed that." Bobby glared vehemently round the room.
 None of this was happening for Bad Penny ... the only thing that existed was the past. And that was what was being written into this book, forcing him to relive every single moment of it, every day, and every page, the torment and gradual collapse of his lonely, tormented mind...

~ FLASHBACK: Bad Penny's House ~

 Bad Penny walks slowly down the stairs. The house is dark as usual; the hole- ridden wooden shutters on the first floor are in place and locked on the inside, barring most of the gentle sunshine and light, spring morning breeze outside. He stops before one of the pictures that line the wall, curving down with the stairs. It is a picture of a woman, fortyish. She wears a smile that radiates the whole picture, almost bringing light to the lifeless, gloomy surroundings. The air in here feels cold and stagnant, shadows in the corners seem to loom or twist in place as Bad Penny breaks the swatches of light that shine in through the holes in the shutters, passing down the corridor to the kitchen.  Maybe he's still asleep. If he's there, just get gone. Go. Amscray. Maybe he won't remember last night. Maybe he will. Maybe he'll be sorry.
 He opens the door slowly at first, then gathering courage, opens it wide and walks into the kitchen. The kitchen too is dark and he ignores the light switch, as there is never a bulb fitted - they got smashed as quickly as he could replace them, so he just stopped replacing them. Bad Penny looks around, watching for a slumped shape sitting at the breakfast bar or maybe even a figure lying unconscious on the floor somewhere. Shards of light shine in, as though it were night and a group of people were standing at the window, shining pocket flashlight beams into the kitchen. There is a dank, old, almost sweet smell. Something sweet and almost foul, almost ...
 "Dad?" Pause. Nothing. "Dad? You in here?"  He moves to the sink, runs the cold tap for a second and stares at the window ahead of him. There's a hole in the shutter at eye level through which he can see the street; a couple of girls walk past on their way to school ... fifteen, sixteen maybe. The warm weather's brought out the skirts at last, he thinks, and holds a glass under the stream of water. He raises the glass to his lips, which touch its cool rim for a second.

~ DINER ~

 The diner door opened and a group of fishermen left, laughing raucously at the punchline of that joke about the nun at the Tijuana mule-show. The door slammed shut, then immediately opened again, and at that moment, the jukebox cut out with a loud BzZZZzzZZZ ... A figure walked in through the sudden silence and moved unhurriedly to the counter, taking a stool at the opposite end of the counter from where Bad Penny sat, still furiously writing. Norma got the dark-suited man at the other end a cup of coffee and walked over to where Bad Penny was sitting.
 "You haven't touched your coffee," she says. "Why don't I fix y..."  She didn't finish her sentence. Bad Penny looked up at her and she sees his face and SCREAMED ...

~ FLASHBACK: Bad Penny's House ~

-just a second before Bad Penny is aware of something behind him, a presence for a split second, before something, a fist, maybe a two-hander, comes crashing down on the back of Bad Penny's head, forcing the glass to shatter in his hand, driving a large chunk of glass into his gum, and a long, vicious sliver which cuts through his cheek and sticks out at a jaunty downward angle. Bad Penny screams and falls to the floor where he lies still for a moment. His father steps back, draws his leg back and holds it there as if gathering the necessary strength. He drives a kick into Bad Penny's belly, then another. Bad Penny curls up against the blows, the shard still extruding from his cheek, the sharp tip gathering a huge crimson bulb before the drop of blood falls to the floor. Bad Penny rolls to face his father, pulling the piece of glass from where it was embedded in his upper gum. A flap of skin hangs loose from his gum, bleeding profusely. The rest of the pieces of glass in his hand fall on the floor. Blood streams down Bad Penny's chin and neck, and from his lacerated hands. Tears stream down his face, streaking the blood pink. His shoulders heave with sobs but he makes no noise, apart from the heavy, bubbly sound of his breath rattling in and out through his nose. His father stands above him, his great chest heaving. He grunts, almost as if in absent-minded approval of his work, nodding his head, ruminating. His bearclaw-like hand goes up to his forehead and he smoothes back his hair with an open palm. Then without another sound, his father goes to the cupboard, reaches in, pulls out his next bottle of bourbon, and leaves the kitchen.

~ DINER ~

 My GOD! My God, your face ..."
 Other diners were swivelling around in their seats and from their booths to better check out the commotion. Some stood to get a better look. The only person in the diner who wasn't rubbernecking at Norma's cry of horror was the dark-suited man at the end of the counter. He appeared to be smiling.
 Shelley rushed over to Norma and let out a squeal when she saw Bad Penny, her hands going up to her mouth and her eyes staring wide at his blood encrusted face. He had removed the napkin from his face and the girls artlessly applied Band-Aids, attempting to staunch the sluggish bleeding from his facial wounds ... useless, blood still ran in tiny rivulets down his face, dripping onto the pages of the exercise book he had been writing in. His scrawled script was large, aggressive, and what he had been writing was plainly legible through the bloodstains. Norma looked down at it and although it was upside down, she could still make out what was written there, and what colour that remained in her face in that instant drained away ...
 Bad Penny looked up at her and smiled through dried and fresh blood as if he were about to comment on the pleasantly warm day. "I fell," he said, almost in a little boy's voice. Norma cried out and stepped backwards, trembling...
 Making small sounds of anguish, "oh, oh, oh," Shelley turned from left to right, as if looking for someone she had seen earlier. Then, she spied him.  "Oh, oh, Agent Cooper! Agent Cooper! Oh ..."
 Cooper was staring down into his morning cup of coffee, black as Texas oil, wearing a larger grin than usual. His head snapped to attention with such speed that Shelley wondered if she should switch him to decaf...
 "Shelley, whatever is the matter?" His eyes were filled with merriment, and Shelley was momentarily transfixed, like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car ... she shook her head and continued...
 "Something is wrong with Norma, that strange kid did something to her! Or she did something to him, I, I don't know ... but he's bleeding!"
 Cooper turned his head in the direction of the commotion, and stood up, still grinning hugely as he walked toward the terrified Norma ...she was attending to a kid in his late teens, and she gave Cooper a quick glance, then she retreated to the kitchen, with Shelley following worriedly behind her.
 Bad Penny looked sullenly up at the friendly, lightly perspiring face of Agent Cooper. "I fell," he said. Then he shook his head to clear his vision, for he could have SWORN he just saw the lawman lick his lips like he was eyeballing a medium rare steak.
 "Say, kid, you look ... really bad ... is everything ... ok? You have ... BLOOD ... on ... your face..." Cooper's grin faded slightly.
Bad Penny looked blankly at Coop for a moment or two; a napkin pressed to his cheek.
 "Listen, G-man, no offence, but just butt out, okay?"
Cooper's grin disappeared completely, and Bad Penny's stomach lurched as though like it was on the verge of dropping into his bowels ... it could be his imagination, but the AIR in the diner seemed to have changed, gotten as flat as yesterday's coffee ... no, it was not his imagination, everything was deathly quiet and people were getting up and leaving hurriedly.
 Cooper stared at Bad until he felt the content of his bowels liquefy ... then, he smiled again, winked at him almost conspiratorially, and the world caught its breath. Then Cooper leaned forward and picked up Bad Penny's notebook.
 "What have we here?" Cooper leered at Bad. He adopted an expression of mock wonder, his eyes wide, his mouth a little 'o'. "Is it, perhaps, a di-ary?" Bad said nothing. "I hope it is," Coop continued. "I hope so. I do so love diaries, they're so ... personal..."
Coop smiled genially at Bad Penny, licked the tips of two fingers and began to flip slowly through the pages, reading snatches of the scrawl that covered each page, occasionally looking over the top of the book down at Bad Penny, and smiling or raising his eyebrows or making sounds of approval - mmm-hmmm!
 Eventually he closed the book, folded it lengthways and slipped it into an inside pocket of his jacket. He looked down at Bad Penny, still slumped on his stool. He was not smiling and his cold, smouldering coal eyes burn into Bad Penny's head.
 "What say you and me have a talk, mah mannn?" Cooper reached down, grabs Bad by the collar, and effortlessly lifted him to his feet. Bad could swear that he felt his feet lift off of the floor as Cooper unceremoniously dragged him outside to the parking lot ...

~ OUTSIDE THE DINER ~

 Cooper hauled Bad over to his unmarked vehicle. He stared intensely at him for a second, trying to read him, and smiled.  "Do you have a license for that gun you're carrying?"
 Bad Penny stared back, still holding a bloodied napkin to his cheek. "W-what gun?"
 They stared at each other for what feels like hours, Coop standing there, his shoulders back, a fixed, mocking smile on his face, Bad Penny with his shoulders slumped, his eyes like a hurt, cornered dog.
 "Ahhh, OK, little guy, play it that way, cause there ain't a game invented yet that I CAN'T play, and I've played 'em with the best, but I just want one question answered, I'm just DYING to hear all about it, but I'm patient, so you take your time on it, OK?"
 Bad looked Cooper straight in the eye, feeling a sudden bravado. Cooper leaned down, his lips an inch away from Bad's ear, and for a second, Bad thought he is gonna proposition him ... Cooper's breath was cold against Bad's neck, and he shivered as Cooper asked the question in a low, soft whisper...
 "Is she ... DIRRRRRRRTY?"
 Bad involuntarily closed his eyes and moaned, a thousand different conflicting images flickering through his tormented mind at once, but the pictures that were clearest were of Mary Christie, Bad Penny's new neighbor, her limbs twisted in impossible ways, her body broken and torn, and he realised that Cooper somehow KNEW the things he thought about her, and the realization caused his crotch to begin to swell and bulge ... he cried out and opened his eyes in fear and embarrassment, ready to protest...
 Cooper is gone, and so is his car ...
 Bad Penny turned his back to the street, shameful, angry tears welling up in his eyes, and put his right arm into the inside left pocket of his jacket and felt the cold steel of his gun nestling there. He caressed it, slipping his index finger quickly and gently in and out of the trigger guard, staring with a faraway look through the windowpane into the diner. Feeling much better for that, he started to walk the two blocks to the hospital for his stitches, ignoring the bulge until it began to fade away...

~ fade to black ~

 In Annie's mind, everything was as it should be.  Images floated through her head like butterflies, touching briefly upon her subconscious before fluttering away to some other place in her mind. Happy images of her time with Dale. There was nothing here about the convent or that boy from her past. It was all about Dale.
 Dale...the name brought a smile to Annie's face. The nurse attending to Annie's bedside glanced up from the newspaper she was reading and raised an eyebrow at the expression. The smile looked almost...well...evil on the unconscious woman's face. Reaching over and grabbing Annie's chart, the nurse made a note of the occurrence and then setting the chart back down on the bedside table, turned her attention back to the newspaper...
 They're in the boat on the lake, the lake with the ducks. Dale is taking a hold of Annie's hands and in a singular movement turns one over to expose the ugly twisted scar on her wrist, the scar of a past she's trying to overcome. He runs his finger gently over the scar and looking into her eyes, speaks soothing words that let Annie know he understands and forgives.
 "Annie, I know how hopeless things can seem. I know about the dark tunnel you can fall into." He speaks with such warmth and love that Annie is lifted up to heaven in one moment's time. Dale makes her feel lighter than air. His voice is a kind of music that swirls about her...she closes her eyes and lets it take her to another place in her heart, a new place where she can be...
 Wait. Something's wrong. The swirling doesn't feel right. Annie opens her eyes and sees she is someplace else, someplace...dark. Dale is there now but he doesn't look warm and loving. His eyes are not his. Annie is frightened, but she remains calm. "Where are we?" she asks. Dale chuckles and she knows he is not in there. He is not Dale.
 "Remember that dark tunnel? Well, you fell into it again! PLOP! Just like that!" says the Dale who is not Dale. He leans in close to her and takes her chin in his hand. "You'll never get out this time...never. Bye-bye happiness, hello loneliness..." He tosses his head back and lets out a cackling laugh that sends shivers up and down Annie's spine.
 Dale stops the cackling and brings Annie's face to his, so that their foreheads are touching and he is looking deep into her eyes. "You are mine now, and I know you will taste good." He licks his lips for emphasis. "You will taste so good." Annie stares into those deep dark eyes and feels herself falling, falling into a darker place than she is now. She opens her mouth to scream but nothing happens. She reaches out to grab, but there's nothing to slow her descent. Without warning, Annie reaches a state of panic she has never known. It is horrifying and deadly.
 The nurse had to stand up to restrain Annie's flailing arms. The heart-rate monitor was going crazy and the little ticker tape that recorded Annie's brain activity was rampant with scribbled lines and peaks. The poor woman is going to give herself an aneurysm, the nurse thought as she clamped one of Annie's hands down and strapped her wrist to the bed rail with a padded leather cuff. Rushing around to the other side of the bed, she was able to get this arm strapped down a lot quicker. Reaching into her coat pocket, she pulled out a syringe of Anamadol to help Annie calm down.
 As she was preparing to insert the needle into the IV, the nurse looked over at Annie and was shocked to see that her eyes were wide open, as well as her mouth. The nurse stood there, stunned, as Annie moaned only one word: "Daaaaaaale!" Suddenly remembering the needle, the nurse slipped it into the IV and pushed the plunger on the syringe. The drug entered Annie's system, and her eyes and mouth closed as she settled back into her pillow. The nurse breathed a quick sigh of relief and tossed the used needle onto a tray. She goes back to her chair, made a brief note on Annie's chart, and then settled back down to read her newspaper again.
 In Annie's mind, everything was as it should be. For now.

~ slow fade to ~

 An exhausted Albert entered the diner, dropped his metal briefcase on the floor, and sat at the counter. Norma approached him with her trademarked warm smile.
 "Good evening. Welcome to the Double-R. What can I get you?"
 Albert glanced at the menu, then gave her a withering look of pure, unadulterated cynicism.  "Cooper recommended your special, Nuts and Twigs. Would you recommend that particularly, or perhaps the Salmonella á la Mode?"
 Norma's smile almost cracked. "There's no need to be rude."
 "Sorry, I'll try to be gregarious. Bowl of the vegetable soup and the tuna on rye. No mayo." Norma smiled through gritted teeth, took his menu, and approached the kitchen.
 "For once, I miss Hank..." she muttered.
 The Log Lady observed him from the end of the counter. She walked towards him and poked Albert hard in the shoulder. He turned to her and looked her up and down.
 "Can I help you, Twiggy?"
 The Log Lady studied him closely. "Your face repels those who would aid you."
 "I see you're no Miss Twin Peaks yourself, Ms. Lady. Or can I call you Log?"
 "I have knowledge that can help you. My log knows many things."
 "Such as? The horrors of Dutch Elm Disease?"
 The Log Lady stared at him indignantly for a moment, then picked up a dessert spoon from the counter and whacked him on the kneecap with it. Albert howled. Some diners turned around at the red-faced and outraged FBI agent. The Log Lady wagged her finger and warned, "The stage has been set, agent.  It is time to start rehearsing.  The owls are not watching us all the same.  You should know they are not what they seem."
 She turned around and marched away. Just as she passed through the door, Albert turned to the door and yelled at her back, "I'd have figured you would be more fearful of termites!"

 The scene fades to a climate very different to that of Twin Peaks. The air smells different. The scent of firs is noticeably absent. The night is warm, a breeze ruffles the trash on the cracked sidewalk, dust kicks up, the sound of insects trill in the darkness. A sign attached to a faded, peeling wall creaks as it swings slowly, rhythmically. The battered metal is too twisted to reveal what was written on it. A bug runs up the wall.
 James cursed under his breath, looking around at the sordid - yet familiar surroundings. He was having the dream again. Ever since leaving LA the dream had come back to him three, sometimes four times a week. It was always the same. Nothing ever changed. And every single time he woke up screaming.
 James tossed and turned under the thin quilt that covered his bed at the cheap Starlight Hotel 49 miles north of LA. His hands clenched at the quilt, his legs twisted and his back arched in some kind of a muscular spasm. The expression on his face was that of someone in extreme torment and suffering - his eyes were screwed tightly shut, his hair a tangled mess, beads of sweat ran down his face and neck, drenching the quilt. His facial muscles twitched...
 It was a dark wood. James felt like he should know where he was, but his mind could not focus that information. It looked as if it might be close to where he and Donna had buried the necklace after Laura had died. But it also kinda felt like somewhere he had never been before. Or maybe he was someone he had ever been before.
 The wind howled through the trees as James walked cautiously along the narrow pathway that seemed to wind endlessly through the darkened canopy. Clouds obstructed the full moon, and it began to get darker and darker. Although he could plainly hear the sounds of his footsteps on the ground, he felt as if he were not so much walking, as being carried along by the wind.
 A voice came out through the trees, breathy and low.  "James," it whispered, a light echo carrying off into the distant trees. "James, where are you? I need you."
 "Is that Donna?" James wondered to himself. "Or maybe ... even..."
 The voice cried out again, louder now. "James! Please, there is no one else left. I need you!"
 James started running through the trees, his feet crunching on leaves as dry as bark.
 "JAMES!!! WHERE ARE YOU???"
 And suddenly, as if from nowhere, a female figure with her back to him melted into the grove in which James stood, with the light of the reluctant moon now making her dark hair shine. James almost didn't spot her in time and had to skid to a halt.
 "I'm here," he said.
 The girl said nothing but instead began to turn slowly round, her feet shuffling her round in small incremental degrees. Not Laura, not even Donna. After all this time. If there were someone he never imagined, even if it were only in his dreams, it would be ...
 "Audrey ..."
 She looked at him and smiled. The Audrey which stood before him now was not the Audrey he knew at all. The Audrey he best remembered was the nine-year old tearaway who used to mess around with Laura and him. Even back then, at that tender age, he could not help but notice that there was something very different about her ...
 Audrey's hair continued to absorb the moonlight. Her face was pale, her lips a ruby red, her clothes black. Against the darkened curtain of trees, her face seemed to loom, disembodied, out of the shadows. Her fingers were tipped with long, blood red fingernails.
"James? Why did you leave us? We needed you and you went away!" She began to weep softly.
 James knelt down. "We? Who's we? Audrey, what's wrong?"
"Everything's gone crazy. Everyone's crazy." Audrey raised her tear-streaked face to his, her make-up running. "We feel like we're the only sane ones left and it's not a state to which we're accustomed."
 James stood up and looked at her. "Audrey, I don't know what you're talking about. You're the one who sounds crazy. Who's here? Who else is here?"
 Audrey smiled a terrible smile. "The owls can see us. The shadows listen. Donna doesn't love you anymore."
 "Donna? Audrey, what is this? What are you talking about?" The pitch of James' voice rose a little. "Has she said something to you?"
 Audrey suddenly lashed out at him, slapping him hard across his left cheek. "Don't you EVER yell at me! I'm Audrey Horne! "
 "No you're not." James turned his back on her. "I never once in my life saw Audrey Horne cry."
 Every time the dream was the same. Every time it ended the same. Every time ...
 Audrey screamed the most horrible ear-splitting scream he had ever heard. James' blood ran cold as he watched Audrey writhe, grasping and pulling at her hair as if to wrench it out by the roots. The trees behind her and around them began to undulate and sway, the branches and leaves swaying to some hidden rhythm, dancing a special dance. A great bolt of lightning split the sky asunder and in the moment of the bright flash, James could see Laura, her mouth a gaping black maw, bristling with sharp, jagged teeth. Blood began to pump lazily from somewhere deep inside her, spurting in short gouts that shone black in the faint moonlight. She advanced on James, who was rooted to the spot, rigid with fear.
 "All the ones you love, all the things you hold so precious will die unless you agree to be with me," Laura hissed.
 James burst awake, and it took him a few moments to realise where he was, and to get his breath back. He turned to look at the watch on the nightstand.  Midnight.  He wouldn't let himself sleep again tonight. He couldn't do it anymore.
 He realised he had to get back to Twin Peaks. This was his last thought, before he drifted off to sleep again, and found himself in a strangely familiar wood...

~ fade to ~

 The night sky glimmers with the few stars capable of penetrating the light cloud that has settled over the town. The cloud is low and the light from the town underlights it with a spooky effect, the faces and figures that you can make out in daylit cloud formations can become gargoyles, figures of terror at night. The woods were massive, dark, and foreboding at night time, and at this time of year, more than a little cold as well.  The trees loomed large in the moonlight... the night sounds wafted uneasily through them, sounding darker than the skies they crowded beneath, creating an queasy feeling and a sense of unknowing and fear in Nicholas Needelman's mind...
 He didn't know where he was, or what he was doing.  All he knew was that he was lost.  Nicky crept slowly through a small clearing.  It felt to him as though someone or something was watching him... seemingly from every direction, darting around through the murkiness.
 The boy could barely see through the trees, his young eyes straining to catch a glimpse of a branch in front of him, avoiding it, then seeing nothing but deep, brilliant blackness.  He whimpered as he slowly made his way through the forest.
 "... hello?"  he whispered.  Silence... nothing but the soft breeze.
 Nicky moved on, then found a place inside a bush where he could keep warm for a while.  He crept inside, and started to drift off.

~cut to ~

 By the river, the water shimmers black, laughing voices cut the air. The riverbank is dotted with trees, and in one of those trees sits an owl, its unblinking silver penny eyes fixed on a group of teenagers sitting some way up the bank from the edge of the river.
 The remnants of a case of beer sat in the river, chilling in the dark waters that rolled gently past it. A small fire burned nearby, and five souls sat close to it, taking in the warmth and laughing drunkenly, gleefully. The fire threw out orange flickers, casting light and shadow onto the faces of two girls and three boys, all of them underage, except for the tall, husky blond boy, Alex. He'd recently turned 21, and was standing up, enjoying being the man of the hour, the one who could deliver the suds.
 "Man, it's SO great to be able to drink whenever I want to. No more hassles, no more excuses about losing my ID." He swigged the last of his beer and staggered toward the river.  "Anybody ready for another one?"
 The two other boys yelled out "RIGHT HERE!!" simultaneously, and laughed at the stereo effect. The girls giggled, and one of them raised her hand in drunken bravado. "ME TOO!!" The other one, Rachel, shook her head nervously, she was still nursing hers.
 Alex grabbed four more and headed back toward the warm fire. He handed out the beers and sat down awkwardly with a soft thump on the sand. The party continued. They were too drunk and too caught up in their noisy anecdotes and good-natured jibes to notice the conservative-looking car pulling off the road, a short distance from them.
   Cooper looked in the mirror at himself and smiled. He was starting to get the hang of the smiling part, the face positively BEAMED good will. Ahhh, time to experiment with it. He got out of the car, shutting the door and walking down toward the river, and the orange glow of the fire. He heard the young voices, laughing joyfully. His face darkened with sudden anger, but he stopped, turned his face back towards the road, and forced the grin back onto his face. Then he straightened his shoulders and walked on.
 "Alex, did you hear that?" Rachel asked. Alex paid her no attention, his head was buzzing nicely and he didn't need any of Rachel's paranoia. He started to tell the story about the time he ran out of the Twin Peaks grocery store with a sixer, when the old man's back was turned, but his words came to a sudden halt when he heard footsteps, slow, deliberate, authoritative.
 "Shit, ditch the fucking beers. It's probably Truman! Hurry up, Goddamit!"
 They all stood up and tossed their almost full beers. Three of them splashed into the river, one hit the sand close to the water, and nervous Rachel's landed only a few yards away. Alex hissed at her: "Dammit Rachel! I'm sunk if we get busted for this - I'm the only one he'll fuck with!"
 They saw the figure approaching, a relatively tall man, thin, with short hair. "Shit, it's just Andy Brennan. I'll talk my way out of it."
The figure got closer, and it wasn't Andy. Alex felt a nervous flush run through him, but he whispered, "it's OK, the FBI can't bust us for drinking beer. He's probably looking for someone else. I'll handle it." He forced a sickly, nervous smile to his face.
 Cooper reached the fire, grinning hugely. He looked round with positive good cheer at the five teenagers who nervously eyed him back.
"Hi, kids!!" he said in a loud voice that cracked slightly. Rachel giggled, and Cooper's grin faded a bit.
 "What are we doing tonight? Singing 'Kumbaya'?" He let loose with a long, loud horsy laugh.

~ cut to ~

  Voices woke Little Nicky. He listened from where he was behind some scrub, not daring to move.  He'd become scared suddenly, as though he shouldn't let these people know that he was there. He was lost, but not THAT lost.  Nicky could hardly see what was happening, as he only had a small hole in the bush to see through.  He leaned in closer.  He could barely make out what was being said.

~ cut to ~

 Alex spoke for the group, doing his best to sound mature and in control.  "Umm, no sir, Mr., I mean, AGENT Cooper. We were just getting warm."
 "Getting WARM??" Cooper's grin broadened, but it didn't strike Alex as very friendly. Cooper walked up to him, his face six inches away from Alex's. "It's kind of a WARM night to be getting WARM, isn't it, son?"
 Alex gave his shivering friends a perplexed look and turned back to Cooper, who really did appear to be very warm, almost burning up. Maybe he's sick, thought Alex. Cooper turned and started walking toward the remaining beers in the river. Alex closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. Shit outta luck..
 Cooper knelt down and fished the case out of the river, then turned and walked back toward the group, holding it with two fingers. "Don't you know, son, that WHISKEY warms you up, not BEER. You know that, don't you, boy?"
 "Sir, we ... we were just."
 "Ahhh, and look at these two beautiful young ladies ... are they getting WARM too?" He dropped the beer and walked up to Rachel, who shrank from his intense, staring smile. "Why look at YOU, dear, you really DO need to get WARM, don't you? Your lovely, thin little arms are positively COVERED with Goosebumps." As he spoke, he reached over and began to caress with both hands her right arm, gazing at her skin.  Rachel stared at him with widening, terrified eyes and her left hand flew to her mouth. She jerked back her arm and took a step backwards, visibly trembling. Cooper looked at his empty hands and his grin disappeared. He looked up and fixed his eyes on her.
 "Are you afraid of something, beauty? I am an AGENT of the LAW, now why would you be frightened of me? Have you been doing something you shouldn't?"
 "N-n-no, sir, I-I just was."
 Cooper reached for her, and slowly wrapped his arms around her. She was suddenly paralysed with fear. Cooper hugged her tight, and put his face next to hers.  "You have nothing to be afraid of, baby, unless ... you are dirrrrrty." He rubbed her back and moaned into her ear. Rachel closed her eyes, suddenly becoming dizzy, and she felt herself getting wet between her legs...
 ...and in her mind she suddenly had a flash of a horrifying man, with long hair and a demonic face. He screamed in joy as he viciously beat a young girl repeatedly, who was tied face down, then she saw the face, the face of Laura Palmer, and the face faded, and became her OWN...
 Rachel opened her eyes and SCREAMED loudly, stumbling out of Cooper's arms and falling back against a tree. Alex stepped forward and grabbed Cooper's shoulder, turning him around.
 "Hey, man, what the FUCK are you doing? Leave her alone!!"
Cooper's face darkened, and he suddenly reached out for Alex, putting both of his thin hands firmly around the youth's football-thick neck with great deliberation, and Alex felt his bladder start to loosen. He began trembling. "Look, man, just don't, please!"
 Cooper laughed, but now his smile was gone. "DON'T!!" he said in a mocking, high-pitched voice. "Awww now, maybe YOU are the little girl here, is that it, buhhhd-dy?? DON'T!!" He suddenly kissed Alex full on the lips, and Alex struggled to back up, but he was frozen into place. The others stood back, looking for places to run.
 "Did you enjoy that, my lovely? Oh, I know you did. Here's a little lovetap dedicated to you."  Suddenly Cooper struck Alex hard in the middle of the forehead with his open palm, so hard that Alex's head snapped back and his feet almost left the ground, tumbling back into the river and landing in the same place his beloved beer had earlier been resting. The rest of them sprinted in a panic off into the darkness, both girls screaming in terror.
 Cooper laughed to himself. That was fun, but altogether too easy. And besides, now he had whetted his appetite for some of that young stuff - it seemed like decades since he had tasted Dirty Laura. He licked his lips at the prospect, and as he returned to his car, jumped and clicked his heels. Images of One-Eyed Jacks danced in his head.

~ cut to ~

 Nicky heard the screaming and ran, jumping up from his position in the bushes and running as quickly as he could away from the scream, not caring to watch for things he might run into he just ran, padding along in his cheap, donated orphanage shoes....
 Later, it seemed like he had run for days, he was gasping for breath, his lungs felt like he had been inhaling bits of razor blade.  He stopped next to a wise old fir, leaning against it, trying desperately to gather oxygen into his lungs as the tears streamed down his face.
 He barely noticed the hand as it grabbed the front of his jacket, but he saw clearly the face of the man who it belonged to, the long hair, the crazed look in his eyes....
 Nicholas Needleman fainted.

~ in darkness ~

 There is a strange jazzy musical piece in the background, fading in and out ... Dale suddenly feels alive ...

~ fade in: The Red Room ~

 I open my eyes and see my surroundings, a red room, I remember this room from the past, long ago. Why am I here, I remember entering the lodge, and then it is all a blank.
 A feeling is growing inside me, I need to get out. I look around the room, and see only one exit. I make my way across the checker board floor, and pull aside the curtain for the exit. I walk into another room, I quickly scan this room for exits, and it looks the same, an exit in the same place. I stride across the floor, and dart though the curtains into the next room. Horror flushes through me at the sight that greets me, a strangled sound comes from my dry throat. I just see bodies, all the victims from all the homicide cases I ever worked on ... twisted limbs and corpses stacked like sacks of meal. Every face, every death mask, every mouth twisted into a rictus of agony. Every mutilation, every slashed, throttled, bruised, white-faced, raped, stabbed, violated, murdered cadaver; every entrance wound, every exit wound, every defense wound- blood flows from them all, the floor becoming awash with blood...
 I run out and back into the previous room. I try and run towards the exit on the other side of the room I run towards it, the thought of the blood soaked victims going through my mind. I see rapid slideshow images of them flash through my brain. I rush towards the exit and I am flung backwards. I pick myself off the floor, and walk towards the exit again, but it won't let me through, something is blocking me.
 I turn and run back towards the previous exit, again, I am blocked. I run around all along the room, pushing at the curtain, trying to find a way out, but I can't find a way out. I am starting to feel panic, there is no way out. I am trying to force my way out of the curtain, to find an exit, but there is none. It's like being in a gigantic red coffin. I run from one wall of curtain to another. I can't escape. I am trapped in here.
 "Help! Somebody HELP me, help!"

~ To Be Continued ~

Twin Peaks Episode 3001 was written by:
Andy, Lucy, Donut~ Karl Lehtonen & Kearstin Ann Brawner
Audrey on Arrival ~ Amanda Hicks
Ben Wakes Up ~ Melanie Zecca, bugyell & Chris Travis
Meet Nurse Mary Christie ~ Karl Lehtonen & bugyell
How's Annie? ~ Don Hicks, Brett Cullum & Chris Travis
Leo's Dilemma ~ Don Hicks
Nadine: Part I ~ JennyEve Ramirez
Albert and Gordon Check In ~ Jim Geraghty, bugyell, Brett Cullum & Karl Lehtonen
Nadine: Part II ~ JennyEve Ramirez
Dr. Jacoby's Great Idea ~ Chris Travis
Nadine Locks Horns with Shelley: Part I  ~ JennyEve Ramirez
Catherine's Housecall ~ Christine Habermaas & Melanie Zecca
Nadine Locks Horns with Shelley: Part II  ~ JennyEve Ramirez
Andy & the Art of 'Fang Shoe' ~ Karl Lehtonen
Catherine & Pete: 'Blind Love' ~ Christine Habermaas & Mark Lyons
Bad Penny Meets BOB ~ bugyell & Don Hicks
James Hurley: 'California Screaming'  ~ Joel Aarons
Special Agent Dale Cooper: 'River's Edge' ~ Don Hicks
Albert: 'R&R at the Double R Diner'~ Jim Geraghty
The Good Dale is in the Lodge~ Nick Bright

Cast
~ in alphabetical order ~

Joel Aarons ~ James Hurley
Kirsten Ann Brawner ~ Lucy Moran
Nick Bright ~ Dale Cooper (In The Lodge)
bugyell ~ Jerry Horne, Gordon Cole and Bad Penny
Brett Cullum ~ Sheriff Truman
Jim Geraghty ~ Albert Rosenfelt and Deputy Hawk
Christine Habermaas ~ Catherine Martell
Amanda Hicks ~ Audrey Horne
Don Hicks ~ Leo Johnson and KILLER BOB
Karl Lehtonen ~ Andy Brennan and Mary Christie
Mark Lyons ~ Pete Martell
JennyEve Ramirez ~ Nadine Hurley and Shelley Johnson
Chris Travis ~ Doc Hayward, Dr. Jacoby and Mike Nelson
Melanie Zecca ~ Ben Horne

Interstices, Segues, Graphics and Layout ~ bugyell
Editing and Supervision ~ Don Hicks, JennyEve Ramirez and Melanie Zecca
Directed by ~ bugyell

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