1:18:00
Never having been
psychiatrically orientated...
1:18:04
...I knew that action, not therapy,
was my only shot at survival.
1:18:09
Take your time.
Tell me.
1:18:14
That night, I snuck out of my room and
found my way to a phone booth in the ward.
1:18:19
I called my limo driver,
John Paul, collect.
1:18:23
John Paul, meet me tomorrow
at noon, on the dot, and wait.
1:18:27
It might be an hour, a day, a week. I don't
care. Keep your motor running, got it?
1:18:35
The next morning, when all
the attendants were busy...
1:18:38
...I made my dash, and I made the elevator
as it closed behind me.
1:18:43
I made it, I made it, I thought to myself.
1:18:46
When I hit the bottom floor, the door opened.
There were two goons waiting for me.
1:18:54
You're a very nosy fella, kitty-cat.
1:18:57
You know what happens to nosy fellas?
No? Wanna guess?
1:19:01
No? Okay.
They lose their noses.
1:19:06
I made my dash.
1:19:10
The two goons were right
behind me. 100 yards away...
1:19:12
...my car was waiting.
I had to make it before they got me.
1:19:15
I was older than the two of them put
together, but they lacked one thing: Heart.
1:19:21
I breathlessly made it into the car,
slammed the door...
1:19:25
...as I grabbed
for a tiny bottle of J&B.
1:19:29
Back to Woodland, I said to John Paul.
1:19:36
My limo was pulling into the gates
of my once-owned Woodland sanctuary.
1:19:44
What had been my Garden of Eden for close
to a quarter of a century was mine no more.
1:19:50
Even more painful was that I was
now a tenant in my own home...
1:19:54
...paying $25,000 a month
for the privilege of living there.
1:19:58
Could I afford it?
Not by a long shot.