Hi. Uh, Lincoln Street?
Oh, you just take the main road...
Hang on, let me write this down.
Oh, it's easy. You just...
Trust me, I need to write this down.
What's the last thing that you do remember?
My wife...
That's sweet.
...dying
Oh shit. This is the wrong room. You're in 304 now. I'm sorry. I **** up.
This is not my room?
No, come on, let's go.
Why is this my handwriting?
...This was your room, but now you're in 304.
When was I in here?
Last week. But then I rented you another room on top of it.
Why?
Business is slow. I mean, I told my boss about the - your condition and stuff, and he said try and rent him another room.
So how many rooms am I checked into in this shit-hole?
Just two, so far.
Well, at least you're being honest about ripping me off.
Well, you're not gonna remember anyway.
You don't have to be that honest, Burt.
Leonard, always get a receipt.
Oh, yeah. I'm gonna write that down.
Get rid of Dodd for me. Kill him. I'll pay you.
Are you crazy? I'm not gonna kill someone for money.
What then? Love? What would you kill for? You'd kill for your wife, wouldn't you?
That's different!
Not to me, I wasn't **** married to her!
Tell me about her again.
Why?
Because you like to remember her.
She was beautiful. To me, she was perfect.
No, don't just recite the words. Close your eyes... and remember her.
You can just feel the details. The bits and pieces you never bothered to put into words. And you can feel these extreme moments... even if you don't want to. You put these together, and you get the feel of a person. Enough to know how much you miss them... and how much you hate the person who took them away.
Only for revenge.
I don't think they'd let someone like me carry a gun.
I **** hope not.
You don't know who you are anymore.
Of course I do. I'm Leonard Shelby. I'm from San Francisco.
No, that's who you were. Maybe it's time you started investigating yourself.
There are things you know for sure.
Such as?
I know what that's going to sound like when I knock on it. I know that's what going to feel like when I pick it up. See? Certainties. It's the kind of memory that you take for granted.
Was he scared?
Yeah, I think it was your sinister moustache.
I have this condition.
[Leonard opens the closet door to find a beaten and bloodied Dodd]
Who did this to you?
[puzzled]
You did!
