:16:02
- It's tradition.
- But I don't know how...
:16:05
I'm on my break, sugar.
:16:07
Come. This is your desk.
:16:09
Idris, right?
I'm not really up on religion.
:16:12
Is this purgatory or did I die
and go straight to hell?
:16:15
Getting warm. This is the DLO,
the Dead Letter Office.
:16:19
All these letters are hopeless, lost,
undeliverable, unreturnable.
:16:23
We gather the dead, put them
in boxes, put the boxes in bins.
:16:27
- Are you just on for the holidays?
- I'm two months from my 20th year.
:16:31
Then I'm outta here, gone.
:16:33
- 20 years?
- Yep.
:16:36
I couldn't raise my family
as a musician.
:16:39
Couldn't raise myself as a musician.
:16:57
OK.
:17:00
One year.
:17:01
Piece of cake.
:17:04
Bin A, if it's returnable,
:17:06
which it never is, cos if Whispering
Wendy can't decipher the writing...
:17:10
No one can. Bin B. Blurred. Smudged.
:17:14
Torn or, excuse me,
just too cruddy.
:17:17
Bin D, wrong address.
:17:19
No return, wrong return. People who
don't know where they live. Pathetic.
:17:24
Bin E. No state.
:17:26
No clue, no hope for you.
:17:29
Ready to try, new guy?
:17:31
Yeah, sure. No problem.
:17:34
Let's see... Bin D. Wrong address.
:17:37
Negatory. Not just wrong, but Bin B.
:17:41
Smudged and torn.
:17:43
- God!
- Sugar, it's not that hard.
:17:46
No. This is addressed to a Mr God.
:17:49
Easy. He gets a lot. We put
all the "Dear God" mail over here.
:17:53
In the loony bin.
:17:54
Bin C.
:17:56
Subdivided into loony bin boxes.
We got one for Superman, Elvis,