Hello. Who?
Dean? And who may
I say is calling?

Huh? Hang on.
Your editor.

Hi. No.
Didn't get a chance
to write that one. Uh--

Didn't write
that one either.

Uh, with all due respect, sir,
they'll all still be dead tomorrow.

Okay. Thank you.

- You write for the obituaries.
- Absolutely. Yeah.

- You must be very proud.
- Uh-huh. I'm the one
with the last word.

- Not tonight. I don't think so.
- Yes, I am. Absolutely.

- Fat chance. Last line.
- Still talking. Yeah, right here.

I don't know. I don't know.
My eyes are killing me.

- Tell me these numbers match.
- I'll tell you.

- Let me see.
- Don't do that.

- Ah-ah!
- Is it 0293?


- You got it?
- I think you found her.

Too bad the last name's
completely smudged out, though.

Well, it's his fault.
It was his thumb.

When he grabbed it, his thumb
went right across the name.

Completely. I'm kidding.
It was smudged in my hand.

- Would you stop it?
- It's just a little joke.
That's carbon paper for you.

I guess that's why
America rejected it.

- What's that address?
Is that her address?
- That's seven years ago, man.

So go to the building
leasing office...

and you'll find out
who lived there seven years ago.

It ain't rocket science.
Thank you.
- Hi.
- Hey.

- Where to?
- Yeah, where are we going?

- Uh, okay, take us...
anywhere in New York.
- Excuse me?

Anywhere. Wherever
you feel like going.

- That's not a destination, lady.
- Wait. You didn't make reservations?

- Um, okay, Eve, please
don't get mad at me.
- What?

Oh, no.
I cannot believe this.

I need
a borough here, ladies.

I was gonna tell you
when we got on the plane.

You know what?
That's really sneaky of you, Sara.

- I'm not a bloody psychic.
- Eve, wait!