A straight 9

- No, you gotta park at this angle.  She should only see the driver's side and but for a moment.  Under the right light the paint's black, turquoise and orange—Here's good.

- Like this?

- Well, this spot's ideal because as they walk out from the classroom, you can hit 'em with #3 real quick, just enough to daze her while I run out shotgun in case she wanders into traffic.  We don't want no road kill on our record, too.

- What if—

- And they can't see the right bumper or the railing memento from this side.

- What if it's a feminist course?  They can come out real pumped up.

- Trial and error, I guess.  You may have to switch back and forth from 3 to 6, slide or tilt depending on the sunrays or surroundings, but you can't jam it up.  No hesitation—we ain't gotta worry about no fender bender now—

- Just shoot to thrill.

- Maybe just her jumping on the car... And I could probably nail her with something to seal the deal real easy right there under the sunlight.  Take her to some souvenir shop nearby—I'll introduce myself, signify my intentions and feel out hers.

- Probably go with the straight 9, huh?

- Most likely, maybe there'll be a quick breeze; you can be working on some new calibrations we can tweak or add to the arsenal later.

- This could be a newfoundland for us.  

- Oh, no doubt.

- Tired of having to leave notes on parked cars.

- And new paint jobs...definitely 

- We're low on funds as it is.

- If we can perfect this—Well, we gotta, at least for now, since I ain't got no license anymore.

- Man, I thought you were hitting her with some potent angles back there.

- Yea, that judge was a tough one.  Can't believe the bailiff kicked you out—

- Ohh!

- Hey, we can switch off after lunch if I start drawing blanks.

- You gotta stretch out, man.  Don't strain yourself.

- I'll ease up when I start feeling the tension.  I'm not back at full strength yet, but the game is out there.  They say it's like a sea, but it's more like a river.  

- It's either lay or get laid.

- No doubt.  No hesitation—let's do this.

I can't believe I'm out.  Sorry I ruined Christmas.  Thank You for my life.

 

He's here.

No, over there ~~~~>

running to a house show...

let's hope he doesn't trip...

he's coming...

earl thosen't know anything

...whereby his wife shows him, thus becoming Earl of the Tupperwear

I can't believe that bloke don't let me pass.  We drive the same  fuckin' caaaar!  Brothers my ass!   Truck.  It's a truck.  I drive a truck.  I'm driving a truck.  That's my profession.  My profession is professin' what I'm currently take careofing.  (i hate the word, "-canine")

Now I'm going home—I'm going home now, but wait— there's traffic.  I can probably fly over these traffic, these trucks and cars but I wodda wadda people to know—some can never know, not those, missing an arm or

(i hate the word, "-canine")

Listen, you know what happened, don't you?  He had his heart broken.  Yea, by one of our us.  He saw one of our own—albeit an unscrupulous one—took him home for dinner; his wife made them pot roast and french fries, then the man fucked his wife.  

took him home for dinner, his wife made them pot roast and french fries, then he fucked his wife.  And I would that too, I would—I'd fuck his wife.  I'd give it to her.  But only if she let me, and he didn't know.  Listen, I would hold that over him, but only if he let me.  He—Earl, he's Earl now—he sent him home with a tupperwear of gravy.  Then afterward, when she blurted it out to him, he would remember the feeling in his heart when he sent his brother off with the food from his gut.  He would become Earl.  He would everytime become Earl.  And every time he, Earl, thought of the tupperwear, his wife's—he would Earl of the tupperwear it made him think, of what his wife would think, him as a man who didn't know anything.  And it would stink!  He would stink.  Oh it was a smellysmell!  He was a stinkafink.  And then he knew—Oh! he knew.  Well of course he's new—she showed him, didn't she?  Weren't you listening?  I'm telling you something!  I'll kill you!  I'm killing you right now with my tone.  She told him in their home, where she had those sex, with his new found friend.  In the woods, is where their home now in ruins there she lay.  

And he didn't let me pass.  He's gone; he's glum.  He's more gone than gum.  He's a lot of glum.  He knows it'll be with a rope off the second story.  His home, now in ruins, has a second story, "Now."  Oh, wait, he's just eating a burrito.  Look at the wrapper, just look.  Generic aluminum foil.  It's a good burriton.  It is from an authentic Shaq.  None of that Taco Bell rat meat for frat boys off their Coors, hispanics back from the game.  One black, one asian.  It is twice the size of—two?  No, multiple tacos.  It is a giant taco hugging itself.  It loves itself, and I, love it, and the driver...I do I do—well, sometimes I forget or lose it, my lighter all the time...my pen—okay okay and the driver too.  

His wife...his wife did things that you or I would and wouldn't do, but can only imagine.  Don't judge her—you don't even know her.  Judge the weather, don't eat it.  That's just something wild tobacco leaves say.  Eat your food, your children's food—someone else's children's food when the parents aren't looking.  Some one else's children's parents have feelings, too

when they disappoint their parents.  The apostrophe is a tear drop of broken letters.

He wasn't paying attention.  His wife and I felt slighted.  She got gifted, I got harshed, and my ego took over.  If I hate the driver, I can't talk sincerely with my tag team partner.  He won't listen if I can't feel it or feel too much.  And I'll be acting on my own—I'll be playacting.  I must crash into the driver!

There he may 

or may not

let me take a bite 

While we are waiting for the proper authorities to come

...cause I'm so fuckin' experimental!

sea shells

- I'll just take the next exit.

- Okay.

- We'll hop back on.  I don't want to take the streets...

- Check it out...

- Bentley?

- No...it's either a Phantom or a Ghost.  That thing costs as much as a house.

- In some states...

- I'm going to ask you a weird question.

- What is it?

- You ready?

- Yea, what is it?

- Okay...

- (laughs) What is it?

- Okay, how do you wipe your ass?

- You mean do I use toilet paper or the sea shells?

- (laughs) No, seriously.

- What do you mean?

- How do you wipe your ass?

- I don't use my hand.

- Come on.  

- Why?  Do you go in the bathtub like Andre?

- Just tell me.

- Why?  How do you wipe yours?

- Come on, I asked you first.

- Why do you want to know?

- I asked for a reason.  Come on.

- Like a normal person.  Why are you asking?

- What's the normal way?

- Do you not know?

- I always thought I did, but now I'm not so sure.

- What do you mean?

- I'm not really sure—Okay, what's your technique?

- What—

- Like with toilet paper.

- Oh, yea.

- You fold it before you go in?

- I usually crumple it up to utilize the ridges. 

- Okay.

- Better grip, wider area—forget about it.

- Yea.

- Why?  What do you do?

- No, that makes sense.

- What do you do?

- No, I do that too I think.

- Yea...it's more efficient that way.

- I cup my balls and junk with one hand and go in through the front...

- Okay...

- I don't stand up...

- Oh...

- Yea...

- Like a woman?

- I got tired of wasting so much effort all those years.  It's so time consuming.

- I see...

- There's the exit.

- Yea, I see it.

- Some comprehensive trial and error, I feel...

- You on probation?

- Yea, why?

- I wouldn't break any laws if I were you.

...but, I saw you laughing with them

- You got one for me?

- Ah shit...sorry.  I just ran out.

- Oh, okay.

- Yea...shit.

- It's okay.  

- I gave one to that group, the rest...to him, I guess...

- Thanks anyway.

- You know him, though...right?

- What?

- I saw you...you know, you were over there...with him.

- Yea, I know him.

- I thought he would share.  

- He already stuffed it in his cart.

- I thought he could—I told him to share it...I think.  I saw his dog.

- It's cool.

- I told him to share it though.

- Well, at least you told him.

- What?

- Nothing.  It's cool.

- I thought he would share with that side...

- You the Operations Director?

- ...of the trash can...and the straggler, she could get in on that.

- All right, man.

- I didn't want her to think I was...cause I went around a couple—Well, that's a big group.  I told them to pass out the cups and napkins.

- Oh, so you are the Operations Director.

- Oh shit...he ended up getting all the cups.

- You share at the market?

- Huh?

- (man#3) Hey where's mine?

- (man#1) I already gave your group one.

- (man#3) Who? Them? I don't know those guys.

- (man#1) But I saw you laughing with them.

- (man#2) When you eat at a restaurant, you share with everyone there?

- (man#1) What?

- (man#3) They won't give me none.  

- (man#1) Sorry.

- (man#4) Let me get some money, man.

- (man#1) I can't.

- (man#5) Hey, leave the man alone.

- (man#1) I'll be back and get you some.

- (man#2) It's all right; they seen you already.  

Evan and Wooter go to Macys

- (Wooter) What are we doing here?  You getting your mom a present?

- (Evan, laughs)  She comes here a lot.  She's actually here right now...somewhere around here.  She can never find anything she likes.

- (Wooter) So why she come here all the time?

- (Evan) Were you listening to anything?  I said she comes here a lot.

- (Wooter) Okay, okay...damn, man.

- (Evan) When she's not busy.  It's the only place she goes, with my aunt and grandma.  It's her social life without my old man.  She wanted to apply for a job here.  But when she broached the idea, he turned it down.  

- (Wooter) So why we here?

- (Evan) Gotta freshen up my cologne.  There's my Spicebomb. (aside) No thanks; I'm cool.

- (Wooter) Oow, Number Six. (aside) I'm good.

- (Evan) Wanna sniff around the perfume section?   Lots of good beaver.

- (Wooter) Yea?

- (Evan) This time a season?

- (Wooter) Fahgettaboudit?

- (Evan) Ah, fahgettaboudit!

- (Wooter) Sounds good.

- (Evan) We'll say I'm thinking of something for my mom.

- (Wooter) Okay...maybe I'll say I'm getting something for mine, too.  Or no, my wife!  I might come across a specific type.

- (Evan) It's your fantasy.  Just don't get trapped and bust out your wad.  You can't buy anything for $37.

- (Wooter). Damn...I'll open up an account!  I can return it the next day.

- (Evan) You gonna ask her about the refund policy?

- (Wooter) Yea, that ain't sexed up.

- (Evan) Besides, what if she's here when you do? 

- (Wooter) Man, this shit's complex. 

- (Evan)  Follow my lead.

- (Wooter) Cool.

- (Evan) Hit me with the nasal.  Hit you one, too.

- (Wooter, laughs) My nose has been falling apart.

- (Evan) One time mine fell off.  Next thing I know, it was driving a Range Rover Sport.  

- (Wooter) Damn, these bitches smell divine.

- (Evan) Hey, that could be my future wife you're talking about.

...so begins, Khash Season

- See these urinals?

- Which ones?  These ones?

- No, the ones in the ladies room.

- Well, of course I sees them.  

- Ah, you were being clever.  Well, deposits form when people don't flush.

- Even with that sign up, huh?

- Yea, John put that up.

- Who's John?

- He's my friend.  He looks like Kurt Cobain.

- Why would they not flush?  Probably because everything's electronic now?

- You mean those sensors they have at the mall?

- Yea.  

- It's these old timers.  You gotta figure they get up six times a night to have it all.

- I thought it was eight times to have it all.

- Maybe, if you're detoxing.  And under that constant strain, you're bound to get rebellious.

- Yea, what's the point of flushing if you've already wet your pants?

- (laughs) They're probably used to not flushing.  Anyway, these deposits, they clog up the hole and make flushing difficult for the poor old lady.

- The urinal?

- Yes.  Flooding, overflowing—you name it.  

- I'm trying.

- But mainly, it stinks.

- It's a stinkafink!

- Oh it's a smellysmell.  Okay, listen—

- I'm ready.

- What we need is acid.

- Now you're talking!

- Hydrochloric acid.  Do you know what this is?

- Yea, it's hydra—

- It's hydrochloric acid.

- Do they use it to cook speed?

- I'm not sure...they might.  We're going to pour about three ounces of this into the water.  Enough to eat away the deposits but not enough to go into the pipes.  This stuff is dangerous, real dangerous.

- Okay.

- It rusts metal, it eats steel; you can't touch it or inhale it.  It'll do wonders to your skin, lungs, and stomach.  

- Is it what makes you want to jerk off?

- Shut up.  See that steam coming out of the water? 

- Yea.

- Put your ear close to the water and you can hear it fizzing.

- Okay.

- Now put your hand underneath.  Feel that porcelain warming.

- What's that thick buttery coating?

- That, my friend, is piss.  These old timers go all over the place with their hoses.

- Got it.  

- Now, what do you remember about Chemistry class?

- I remember Brooke Sanders' thighs.

- It's good you remember the important parts.  We have to neutralize the acid with a base.

- Look, it's turning into a root beer float!

- It's like baking soda, the base—

- What if we underline the sign—

- Very basic.  It tastes like salt.

- I'm going to get a red permanent marker.

- Okay, you could do that—Hey!  

- Huh?

- Get me one of those stirring straws out by the coffee pot—I dropped a dime in the hole.  

woo!

- Oh shit, it's that old man with the really big dick.

- What?  I have a big dick.

- Oh, I have a big dick too.  

- That one?  He looks like a lizard. 

- Guess this'll be my lane.  I can cope with his speed.  There's one down there you can share with the old lady.

- Seems like the only option.  Maybe the killer klown from outer space will get tired and then I can get some real exercise.  

- All right.  See you in a bit.

- Wait.  I know your guy.  I've seen him walking into the gym.

- Yea, he's the one that always sounds like Ric Flair in the showers.

- Maybe he has Tourette's.  He always struck me as kind of meek.

- That's cause he didn't strike you with his really big dick.

- Oh, I have a big dick.

- Yea I have a big dick too.

- No, I meant his walk—there's something soft and outstandish in how he carries himself. 

- Clothed.

- I thought he might be a serial killer...or moonlighting satanic.

- No man, he's got nothing to be angry about.

- Not in the showers.

- I got angry at him the other day.  Uncomely bastard almost roundhoused me when he swung around.  I said, Watch it!

- Woo!

- Him and his really big dick.

- Oh I have a really big dick.

- Yea I have a big dick too.

- Man, when I pass under a bridge on the interstate, there's a sign that says, "His Dick Okay."

D.P. & Bruiser

- (Announcer) ...Coming down the ring, at a combined weight of 528lbs, the Tag Team Champions, D.P. & Bruiser.

- (fans) Fuckin' D.P. & Bruiser!

- (fans) You suck it, Bruiser!

- (Bruiser) No I don't suck!  You suck it!

- (female fan) Not nearly as much as you, Bruiser!

- (Bruiser) Well aren't you a picture—were you always born this way?

- (Fan#1, with his Girlfriend) Hey, Bruiser, Bruiser!

- (Bruiser, to Fan#1) ...That fat puke down the row wants to have sex with your girl.

- (Fan#1) Good.  He can.  You can't—you suck, Bruiser!

- (Bruiser) No, I'm not the one who sucks, I'm not the one.

- (Fan#1) Lord ArchBishop's going to stomp on your face!

- (Fan#1's Girl) On his bottom!

- (Fan#1) Yea, on your bottom, Bruiser!

- (Bruiser) You brought your girl to see this bottom?

- (Fan#1) That is a good bottom.

- (aside, His Girl) Hey, you're really good at this.  You having fun?

- (aside, Fan#1) Oh, thanks for bringing me out here, babe.  Yea, you gotta dish it out with them. These guys do everything to entertain us, you have to make it lively for them cause they're out here every night.

- (Fan#2). Hey, you're the best, Boozer!

- (Bruiser) It's Bruiser, you twerp.

- (Fan#2) That's not what I saw on TMZ! There's a car backstage you can use to throw up.

- (aside, Fan#1's Girl) This is so fun!  I'm glad I came out here with you, babe.

- (aside, Fan#1) Yea, Bruiser's my favorite—(to Bruiser) Hey, I fucked your mother, Bruiser!

- (Bruiser) Yea, you fuck dead mothers?

- (Fan#1's Girl) I dug her up, Bruiser, you terd, so my boy could fuck her!

- (Fan#1) I love you, babe—You're getting the hang of it!

- (His Girl) This is wonderful!  Okay, what should I say to him?

- (Fan#1) I dunno but make it quick.  Clothesline from Hell is about to come out—I can't wait to see his outfit.

- (His Girl) Should I say I like his dad?

- (Fan#1) Yea, say you love his dad!  He'll hate it.

- (His Girl) Is he going to love it and act like he hates it—

- (Fan#1) Oh, here he comes!

back to work

We all started clapping when she walked in.  I nudged Edgar, and he said, Leave me alone; I've had it this time. I said, No, man, I'm serious, and he looked over and I saw his face come back to life.  Before letting him go so I could look over again, I adjusted his tie and looked at his face.  She sat down and tried to say hello to the ones around her, but everybody was too busy high fiving each other, and she said, You boys are idiots, but she stayed.  And we smiled.

When most of the cheers settled down, we started taking out our notepads, and I looked over my list, as well.  I took a moment to hear what was being thrown out there, a couple cheers were still going —These guys were using yesterday's strategies of talking about themselves, when these days you should speak of someone else, your neighbor, for example.  Except Ralph—Do Not Bring Up His Neighbor.  Cedric's approach was clever—it was all in the third person; but she didn't know how clever because Cedric never stops.  I waited to hear my chance; the ones I had in mind had received positive feedback, but before I could speak, I heard fuckin Lester using one of mine again.  I told Randy about it, but he said, Leave me alone, I'm trying to concentrate.  He was being mysterious.  Hearing Lester say my words took the air out of everything, and I accepted it, adjusted my notes, no time for the asterisk, and said, Fuckin Lester.  Hope you choke on it.  He stutters, the clown.

Lance came out with his toolbelt.  Amateur, he was going to show her his toys.  He was so happy and smiling.  When we made fun of him, he got angry and went back into the bathroom, then came out again with only his tool belt, and we all started cheering him.

Eugene took out his tax forms and put on reading glasses to confirm; he was sure but never act to moved.  Tony don't write nothing down, and if he did, he wouldn't be able to say it.  He sat there judging her, but I know him, and he was afraid of her.  

She was looking at my boy, and so I said to Lester, Lester, you greasy old goat, you got pomade in your face.  He moved out of the seat, and Edgar walked towards her.  Jason joked that he was probably going to take a piss again, and I laughed half-heartedly.  But Edgar spoke to her.  My boy, he said, You look just like my girlfriend, and we all exclaimed, Oh, man!  and he turned around and started fighting with us and we all went back to work.  It's always the same with him, she's either the moon or his ex-girlfriend.

It's Chuck!

- Where's Rocco?

- Rocco sent me.

- You're not Rocco.

- No, he sent me.  I'm Chuck.

- You're not Chuck—I'm Chuck.

- Okay...

- What should I call you?

- Then I'm George.

- That's right.  I don't call nobody else Chuck.  Sit down.  Where's Rocco?

- Rocco sent me.

- I understand that.  Quit repeating yourself; you look like a fool.  I asked where is he?

- He couldn't make it.  He sent—

- I said don't do that.

- But that's all he—

- So you don't know where he is.  Just say that.  

- All right.

- Otherwise, you'll look like a—

- Fool, I know—

- Did I say that?  You gonna finish my sentences now?  You got an attitude problem, you know that?

- Yea, they—

- Don't answer—I'm not done talking; otherwise you'll like a fool.  Listen, me and Rocco had an arrangement.  You, I don't know.

- I'm someone you can trust.

- What is this, a movie?  I don't trust nobody.  Look, I'm looking to move 50 kilos of drugs.  Rocco says he knows the people.  I need someone I can trust.

- That's why he sent me.

- You, I don't know you.  You can't even tell me your real name.

- It's George.

- You're damn right; I'm the only Chuck around here.  What makes you think I'm going to trust you to come back with my money?

- Chuck, it's no problem— 

- All I got are problems.

- You got nothing to worry about; it's all been taken care of.

- Yea, how so?  Hurry up and answer—I gotta hit the can.  My prostate's the size of a gorgeous ocean.

- I have all the people lined up.

- Who are all these people—hold it, the beauty of my sea waits for no man.  If there's a call, you answer, "Chuck Here Loaning You Money, Hold Please," and cover the mouthpiece with your hand so they don't hear me tinkle.  

- Nice setup.

- Don't make jokes; it doesn't suit you.  And You hold it... All right, I'm back—What's a matter, you don't get up when someone sits down?

- Oh, I—

- Don't answer; it was a joke.  I was showing you how a real man jokes.  Listen, who are these people?  

- They're just my people—you can trust them.

- I'm going to trust them with 50 cartons of cigarettes?

- I thought it was drugs.

- What's it matter?  He's just going to edit it.

- I can vouch for them.

- Yea, and where are the vouchers?  Don't answer; it's an industry joke.  Hey, who's going to vouch for you if your boys turn out to be gutter rats?

- You mean, stool pigeons?

- What are you, reading a script?  

- You don't have to worry about my boys—we got no rat finks in our crew.  Chuck, we've done this hundreds of times.  You got nothing to worry about.  

- You got a plane?

- No, why would we need a plane?  We're driving to Santa Clarita.

- Thought I saw it parked out there.

- Outside of your office?

- No, inside of my gorgeous prostate.  Listen, kid, you ain't got the chops for comedy.

- So are you comfortable with this?

- I don't know, is it long enough?

- Eh.

- I haven't felt comfortable since I half-shot my landing.  I gotta change my pants.  Press the speaker button if a call comes on.

- There's those that make it, and those that just get through.

- Don't joke; it doesn't suit you.

.

..

...

....

- I'm meditating...I can't believe I'm meditating!

- Shut up asshole, you just ruined it.

- What should I do?

- Stop talking...

- Should I count my breathes?

- I don't care, just shut up...

- I was at 4.

- Just stop thinking.

- Okay...but should I start the count—

- Shut up!  Okay, start over, and just focus on the count.

- Ok...

- Don't say anything else.

- Nothing else.

- Don't say anything...

.

..

...

....

- I think I'm doing it again—oh shit, I just did it again.

- Start over.

- One breath or two?

- What?

- I count on the first or the exhale?

- A complete breath...then you'd be half-breathing—you wouldn't be able to breathe.

- Ok, I'll close my eyes.

- Don't close your eyes.  You're not trying to sleep.

- Ok...

- Stare straight ahead...

.

..

...

- this is great...

- shush...

.

..

...

- I love you, God.

- Will you shut up!

- I never thought I'd be meditating!

- You're not meditating—Stop crying...why are you crying?

- I'm so happy...I never thought I'd be meditating.

- You're not meditating—you're talking...

.

..

...

- I keep seeing what I look like meditating...am I doing it right?

- I don't even know...

- I can see my eyes open...it's an out of body experience!  It must be...I need some lumbar support.

- Fuck it...it's too hot in the sauna.

...but I went around the block for you

- This guy, this is going to be my guy.  Fuckin' traffic—hold on buddy, I'm coming.  God, I hate these people!  Hold on, buddy...hang in there...(honk honk) Hey, you hungry?  Hey...hey!  Sorry, how are you?

- What?

- You hungry?

- Are you talking to me?

- Are you hungry, sir? 

- Yea, that's why I'm going to buy a sandwich.

- You will, someday.

- Yea, I sure hope so.

- Here, it's roast chicken.

- What?

- Do you want some food?  It's chicken.

- I understand that.

- It's fresh, and it should still be hot.

- Are you offering me dinner?  That's considerate.

- Here you go.  It's nice and fresh.

- Well...may I ask—Wait, these are your leftovers.  

- Huh, what? 

- There's a fork in there. 

- Cause I'm considerate.

- You were going to throw this away. 

- Well, that's all I have...this time.

- I don't want your leftovers.  You're passing out your leftovers.

- I just thought I could help someone.

- But after you were done eating?

- Hey, I'd take anything if I were hungry and on the street.

- But there's stray bones in there...You think I'm homeless?

- Huh, what?

- You think I'm homeless.  

- But you said you were hungry.

- You said you were passing out chicken dinners.  These are your leftovers.  

- I just meant this one.  I'll have more later.

- I'm sure you will.

- I can buy more—do you want me to buy you a fresh one?

- Don't try to save face now, you already said it was fresh.  

- Well, homeless people need to eat.

- I agree, but they can't chew on bones because then they would be stray dogs.

- Don't be dramatic, there's still some dark meat in there.

- So you left the cartilage on there for the lucky bum?

- So why'd you take it?

- Because I respect generosity.

- So you don't need it but you're—

- Look, I understand you may feel humiliated while you were trying to do some good, but people need their dignity, especially if they're on the street... Not to mention you basically accused me of being a vagrant in my own neighborhood.

- But...but you're clothes—

- What's wrong with my clothes?

- (speeds away) Poor thing, he must have been disorientated.

(soft piano music)

- What should I throw at him?

- That son of a bitch!  They should exterminate all of 'em.

- What should I throw?

- No, not the Gatorade.  Throw the water bottle.

- Where is it?

- Make sure it hits his fuckin' face.

- I don't see it.  I'll throw this.

- No, there's still some in there.

- Well he's going to pass by—Slow down so I can spit on him.

- Yea, spit on him, baby.  Build him a good one. 

- Fruit punch?

- Yea, throw that one.  Send him back where he came from.

- What the fuck is this?

- What, baby?

- You don't drink fruit punch.  You hate fruit punch!  Why is there fruit punch under the passenger seat?

- Oh, I thought it was the lemon-lime.

- You mistook the fruit punch for lemon-lime?

- Baby, you're missing him.

- Who sat here?  Has some bitch been in here?

- Ah, baby—Wait, what are you doing?

- Building a good one.

- Oh, come on, no one sat here.

- You said you had to watch wrestling.

- I did—I mean, I was.  I ran down to the store during the commercial.  I was in a hurry.

- Oh, cause you were so pumped up?  Monica drinks fruit punch!

- Then it probably was one of my friends.  It must have been there for some time, baby.  It got unlatched when you moved the seat ah—

- You fuckin' dirtbag.

- It was one of my friends!

- Drop me off.

- Come on, sweetheart.

- Drop me off!

- Here?  Come on, baby.

- Drop me off or I'll turn the wheel, you fuckin' scumbag!

- What about WrestleMania?

- Give it to Monica.

- She doesn't—ah, shit.

- You're such a moron and you don't even know it. 

- Yea, well, at least I got laid.  

- So did I. 

- (soft piano music) ...I mean, we had fun, didn't we, baby?

- ...Don't try to grab my ass when I get out.  You can't have it anymore.  I'll find someone else who looks like you.

2 for 2

- (clerk) That's one Select Cream Cheese Bagel and the iced tea.  Do you want anything else?

- (customer) No, that'll be all.

- (clerk) We're having a special on these drinks.  2 for $2.

- (customer) That'll be all, thanks.

- (clerk) But you're already paying $1.94 for one.

- (customer) I don't want it.

- (clerk) It's six cents more for the two of them.

- (customer) No, thank you.

- (clerk) Lady, don't be stupid.  

- (customer) Excuse me?

- (clerk) Soak the deal in.

- (customer) I don't care about the deal.  Who are you calling stupid?

- (clerk) It's a good deal.  You can give the other one away to a homeless man.

- (customer) I don't want to give it to some homeless man.

- (clerk) You can charge him six cents. 

- (customer) I can't believe this.  Where's your manager?  I want to speak to the manager.

- (clerk) Oh, he's just going to say the same thing.

- (manager) I'm the manager.  What's going on?

- (customer) This is how you run your store?  By insulting your customers?

- (manager) What happened?

- (clerk) She don't want two of these.

- (customer) He insulted me.

- (manager) Insulted her?  What?  Why?

- (clerk) She doesn't want two of the iced teas.

- (manager) So what?  Did you tell her about the deal?

- (clerk) Yea, but she don't wanna buy both.  

- (manager) It's 2 for 2.

- (clerk) She only wants the one.

- (customer) I only want to buy one, and he—

- (manager) Lady, don't be stupid; it's only six cents more.

- (customer) What?!  I can't believe this—How dare you.

- (manager) You can give it to a homeless man.

- (clerk) She doesn't want to give it to the homeless man.

- (manager) Why not?  It'll be refreshing.

- (clerk) Our products are always refreshing.

- (customer) What does that have to—I'm a customer!  You can't—

- (customer 2) What's a matter, hon?  Sounds like a square deal.

- (customer) What?  Who the hell are you?

- (customer 2) She must not want the extra calories. 

- (clerk) She's being hysterical.

- (customer 2) Lady, you don't have to drink them both at once.

- (customer) Back off, this is none of your concern.

- (clerk) She must have difficulty controlling her emotions. 

- (manager) Let's not make her flustered.

- (customer 2) How's about I pay you six cents for it, calm you down?

- (clerk) She's trying to sell it to him!

- (manager) Technically, we discourage that.  Take it outside.

- (customer) Fuck all you, I don't want any of this.  I'm reporting you!

- (customer 2) She's probably had too much caffeine.

Evan and Wooter

- (Evan) Well if you like Dostoevsky, you should read Gogol.

- (Wooter) Oh, I have read both, twice.

- (Evan) No.

- (Wooter) Oh.

- (Evan) Here, move back to that group.

- (Wooter) Okay...

- (Evan) Well if you like Dostoevsky, you should read Gogol.

- (Wooter) Oh, I have read both.

- (Evan) And I have read everything, as well...anything?

- (Wooter) I don't think so.

- (Evan) Let's try over here.  Make sure those bitches can hear us this time.

- (Wooter) What if they ask a question?

- (Evan) About what?

- (Wooter) About the books?

- (Evan) What books?

- (Wooter) The books we've read.

- (Evan) Just say you saw yourself in it.

- (Wooter) I'll say I own a book store!

- (Evan) I don't know, it's kind of a dying industry—you think that'll make her hot to trot?

- (Wooter) Oh, like a horse.  Cause, check it, whatever I don't sell, see, I read.  That's how I've gotten so smart.

- (Evan) Don't tell her you're all smart like that, though.  Smart people don't say they're smart.  They just look it.

- (Wooter) Look the part, right.  You'll tell her!  When you catch me being all pensive and shit.

- (Evan) Right, make sure you look real busy with your thoughts—or better yet, look up at a star.

- (Wooter) Oh, I got it down.

- (Evan) No doubt.

- (Wooter) And I'll do likewise with the beaver when you're looking up—Which ones are the stars?  I don't want to say I saw a shooting star and it turns out to be a helicopter.

- (Evan) Just find a cloud, and try to look through it.  Here, I see a good murky spot.  Follow the direction of my finger in the air.

- (Wooter) I see one.

- (Evan) That's the moon.  And don't squint like that—you look like you're constipated.

- (Wooter)  Man, this shit's hard.

- (Evan) Get closer to me; I'll guide your eyes.

- (Wooter) There!  Or is that an anchor buoy?

- (Evan) They don't have oceans in the sky.

- (Wooter) Yea, but an airplane might need it to tie itself around it.

- (Evan) Maybe.

- (Mariam) What about those two, Vicky?  They look dreamy.

- (Vicky) I don't know; they may be too romantic.  They're probably hot to trot for each other.

Two minds - redlight

- Whatcha lookin' at?

- I saw you run that light.

- Yea, I ran that light.  What of it?

- You did it on purpose.

- Yea I did it on purpose.  

- Yea you did it on purpose.

- So what?  You gonna do something?

- Me?  Nah, I'm not gonna do anything.  I saw you do it though.

- Yea, I did it.  So what?

- And you'll probably do it again, huh?

- Yea, I'll do it again—I'll do it all the time.

- Yea you'd love to do it all the time... It's not your first, is it?

- Whatcha you gonna do about it?

- Me? Nothing.  We're not gonna let you.

- Who?

- You prolly wanna run this one, too...

- Who's not gonna let me?

- But you can't.  

- I'll run it—

- You can't.  Traffic won't let you.  We're gonna band together and bide by the rules; we're gonna stop you.

- I'm going to get to that light.

- You're gonna stay put.

- I'm gonna get there when it turns red...

- You're gonna—

- And run it.

- You're gonna stay put. 

- I'll run the next six lights.

- Impossible!

- I'll run 'em clean!

- Not with us around you won't.

- I'll run them all.

- We'll make you yield we will.

- I don't yield to no red light.

- You don't like them red lights?

- I hate all of them.

- So you like to run lights, huh?

- Yea I run lights.  I've run lights my whole life.

- Not when you were a kid you didn't.  

- My old man ran them.

- You were a scared little boy.

- Shut your head, I trusted him.

- You're just a dreamer.  Your pops was no good.

- You watch your thought, you.  I could always count on the man.

- You had poor parental guidance.  I'm gonna discern you to death.

- I'll run all the lights by your house.

- No you won't, my mother lives there.

- I'll make her yield.

- The hell you will.

- I've made her yield before; she was good at it.

- Impossible!  She doesn't know how to yield.

- I grabbed your coffee.

- Thanks... I got piss on my knees.  Does it show on my jeans?

- You got piss on your knees?

- I was praying in the bathroom.  

- You pray in piss?  That's a new low.

- I needed to check in.  Get myself correct.  It's a new high, bozomafo.

- Can't believe you pray in piss.  I've prayed in rain before—Oh no, I called a cab.

- It had to be done. 

- People are such slobs.  

- Doesn't bother me now.  Flushed after him and everything.  

- You wipe down the seat?

- Of course.  Some girl might walk in afterwards and think it was me.  

- You know what tattoo I want to get?

- Huh?

- The Silence of the Lambs one.  Buffalo Bills's.

- That should give your skin some character.  It's pale enough.

- Once we get this wax done, I figure after I get inked, it'll be a good few weeks before all the hair covers it up again.

- Like ficus creeping through a decrepit room.

- Then when I'm in with some chick, I'll excuse myself and shave my chest real quick—then I'll come out with it!

- That'll drive her wild.

- Or chase her out of the room.

- I'm going to get one of my face.

- So she can see two of you in action, nice.

- It's not for sex.  It's for when I'm older.

- You're going to look in the mirror to see what you looked like when you were younger?

- That's why I pray.  I'm pretty narcissistic.

  

I'm hungry—where am I?

- Oh, I don't want to fill that out—my mom's not here.

- You have to fill out the form.

- You can't fill it out?

- No, I'm not going to fill it out for you.  

- Oh, it's just basic info.

- Then you can fill it out yourself—you're holding up my line.  Fill out the form and wait till your number is called.

- Is the line going to be long?

- I hope so. 

- I get lonely in long lines.

- I don't care, you have to wait in line.

- Can you wait with me?

- You know, this is a great conversation we're having—I can tell you're really popular, the type who wins affection all around...

- I'll probably win a prize.

- ...So what I suggest, since the line is really long and all, is that you move away from here, from me, from this specific area...where you can't bother nobody else—

- Where should I move, over here?

- No, not there, cause then you be botherin' Pam, and she can't handle none of you.  But in that area over there...

- Oh, over there?  I'm hungry—where am I?

- Yea, that area over there...

- Oh, that line looks long.

- It is.  I'm sure you'll find plenty other people to be botherin.'

- (walking away) I hope there's sandwiches.

The car I made flip over

I've been judging people left and right all day. One car I made flip over when I decided the driver didn't deserve to drive that vehicle, and that his sunglasses made him look like a crook, which he probably is, because he's driving that vehicle and he doesn't deserve to.  One lady almost sideswiped me; she didn't care when I straightened her out.  I looked for more reasons to hate her—that's when I spotted the baby cradle in the backseat.  I started fuming.  I turned the air conditioner all the way up, but opened the window slightly, thereby creating a vent for the smoke coming out of my ears.  I decided she was aging, and now that she had her own baby, clearly she stopped caring about anybody who wasn't her baby.  She was probably late picking baby up from baby school, that baby, so I sideswiped her.  I felt so victimized.  I assessed the situation, and decided that I was still good, and they were not; I was more important to the world, that they are talentless, and go into dentistry.  But to spite them all, I decided to stop somewhere and eat unhealthy.  

Before I got to the unhealthy spot, I pulled over to another spot to grab a soft drink from the aisles, out of spite for the unhealthy spot, wherein them would charge me an extra buck something for some of the same soda.  Once there, I spotted a bland turkey sandwich, which really had nothing to say for itself.  Just then an attendant passed by, and I abruptly grabbed him by the collar and pulled his face into the sandwich stand. 

"Where's the mayo?"

He tried helplessly to look around.  

"Don't look around; look at me," I assured him in a soft, knowing tone.

"But...but," he tried to speak in earnest, "My face is in the sandwich!" 

I eased my grip and pulled him back to me.

"There is none," he revealed curtly, looking at the floor with petulance.

"Oh." I smiled and let him go. 

He stood there momentarily, indignant and correcting himself, then he walked away.  He was gay—I could tell.  I had hurt his feelings.  I turned my attention again back to the stand, and studied the option intently.  The sandwich offered nothing but purpose.  It sat there grouped in between a bunch of slobs.

I thought of contrary action, made a couple jokes to others walking around the store, and went with the turkey.  Continuing my drive, I almost crashed into the car next to me trying to keep the pickles from falling out of my sandwich. The driver was visibly upset—ah, but it don't matter I was eating healthy.

Walking Away from the Cilantro Bar

- (smiles) I like your shirt.

- What?

- Nice shirt.

- Oh, thanks.  It's a flag.

- Oh.

- Yea, it's not from a movie, if that's what you're thinking.

- What?

- It's not from a movie.

- I see.

- Yea.

- So...you like Kazakhstan?

- (intercom, background) 281.

- It's just a flag.

- Yea, you just visited?

- (man's voice, background) 281! That's Number 281!

- Doesn't matter; it's just a flag.  It's just a regular t-shirt.  I'm just wearing a t-shirt.  You like my t-shirt...of a flag.

- Yea, I get it.

- Okay, so, take care.

- Take care, yea... You think I don't know what you're doing?

- What am I doing?  I'm trying to get some onions and cilantro.

- I know what—

- And some hot sauce, if you'll move out of the way.  Are you finished with that?

- You've returned from your travels?

- I may have.  Are you done?  I'd really like some hot sauce.

- You think I don't know what you're doing?  

- I'm trying to have a meal.

- Huh?  You fat hipster, you're trying to make a statement on me.

- (intercom, background) 282.

- I'm just trying to eat.

- I bet you're trying to eat—you're trying to get one over on me.  

- (man's voice, background) That's 282!  You want your 282!

- (continuing) What are you, gonna post it on your blog, your epic win? 

- You like my t-shirt—that's great.  Thank you; and Kazahstan's a great country.

- Yea, and what are their exports? Come on, we both know one those burritos is for your girlfriend.

- My girlfriend's over there.  She's right over there if you'll—

- It's probably your sister...

- My sister's not that hot.

- Is that your thing?  Using people to make a statement in public places?  Quiet social commentary?

- I have a lot of things—we do, in fact; most of them come from IKEA.

- And this does it for her?  Catching prey in the afternoons?  She capturing your triumph for Youtube?  

- We're just trying to have our lunch. 

- Yea, you meet in post-production?

- Thank you for your compliment towards the flag depicted on my shirt.

- I didn't compliment the flag depicted on your shirt—I complimented your shirt, asshole.

- So you like the colors depicted on my shirt?

- I like its texture.  What is that, the athletic fit?

- (intercom, background)  Order 282.

- Yea, it highlights the contours of my blubber, nicely.  Anything else?

- (man's voice, background) Come on, 282—that's 282 everybody!

- (walking away from the cilantro bar) Ah, fuck it.  Dickless Yelpsters.  I should have known.  

Man, hit her a #4

- See any good spots?  It doesn't have to be a winner.

- Just tire shops and mechanics.  

- How did we end up here?  

- My bad.  I thought she had called an Uber—I didn't know she was having a baby.

- It's all right. Shouldn't be too hard to spot some low-brow grub.

- There's nothing around.

- Hey, that guy looks like he's carrying something.  You think that's...?

- It could be a box of pizza.

- Could be donuts inside.

- Could be a stack of paper.

- Yea, I could eat anything—

- Watch out!

- She almost hit me!  She would have if I hadn't...

- Pull up...you got it?

- Yea.

- Man, hit her a #4.

- All right.

- Ohh!

- She's sorry now.

- Oh, she's more than sorry.

- I'm not going to give it to her though.  I almost had to get a new paint job.  That costs money.

- Now she knows what she missed out on.  

- Gotta learn road etiquette, my love.

- There's nothing sincere about running someone off the road—Hey there's a donut shop right!  Pull in.  Asians make the best sandwiches.  We can watch the game if the Mexicans don't have the Hotspot on the big screen.

- Who's playing?

- The home team.

- Oh, good.  I hate the away team.

- We can get a couple scratchers.

- You seeing what I'm seeing?

- Hello...let's feel her out.  Hit her a 2 real quick, see what her situation is.

- Yea.

- Who knows, we might not have to go over single digits today.

- Hold on...

- Relax your mind.

- I didn't clean my ears today.

- You know horses have an innate fear of arrows?

- All right—It's coming...

- Ohh!

- Dude...dude...

- I know—

- (both) She hates her mother-in-law!

- She's not going to leave him though.

- I'm not asking her to leave him.

- You're not—you're not going to...? Ohh!  You didn't!

- I came up with it yesterday at the gas station when I went to see the clerk for a second receipt.

- One from the pump, one inside.  Genius.  An auditor's nightmare.

- I was just riding that wave of confidence.

- And she could tell. 

- She knew that I had somewhere to be, too.

- What do you call it?

- A 91.

- A Special Edition.  You get it down on paper?

- I laminated it. 

- What's the analysis like?

- Oh, well it's three pages right now, but—

- Oh, no; that's not going to cut it.

- I know.

- It can go in the book, but not for the Quick-Action Driver's Guide.  It's gotta turn like a Scientologist's law office if we're ever going to put one in every glovebox in the country.

- I'll give you a run-down inside.  It works on a few levels, too; theoretically, it could be applied during international travel.

- Right, so she'll know quickly you're not the schmuck who's still living in her life for years to come.

- Could be a key selling point.

there are those among us

- (in distance) It won't let me scan...

- (Ben) What's with this line?

- (Joe) Relax, relax.

- (Attendent, in distance to customer) It's going to take about fifteen minutes.

- (Ben, to attendant). Hey, can I go first? I'm a man.  

- (Joe) Hey, you gotta take it easy.

- (Ben) There's a man in line.

- (Joe) Come on, what are you doing?

- (Attendent, in distance to customer) It's going to take about fifteen minutes.  It won't let me scan.

- (Ben) Why don't you yell at it?  That's what my dad did!

- (Nicole) Ben?

- (Ben) Nicole!  What's up, sexy mama!

- (Dennis, aside to Nicole) He's riding on a wet one.  

- (Ben) Dennis!  Dennis the Menace! (aside to Joe) More like Dennis the Bellend.

- (Joe) Take it easy.

- (Nicole, to Ben) What's going on?

- (Dennis, whispers to Nicole) We should leave this be.  I think we should go.

- (Nicole) No, wait.  What's going on, Ben?

- (Ben, to Dennis) How's your 8PM clique?  To the Newcomer?  I've never seen any newcomers get called on—you get 'em during the smoke break?

- (Nicole) What's going on with you, Ben?

- (Dennis) He's plastered!

- (Ben) Your hair's plastered!

- (Joe) It's okay; I'm taking him home.

- (Dennis) Have a nice night.  Be safe.

- (Ben) ...only I can take the money out.

- (Nicole) Let me talk to you, Ben.  Give me a minute.

- (Ben) ....gonna take that money out!

- (Dennis, speaking to Nicole in another aisle) ...cause that guy right there, he doesn't follow good program.  He's at the meetings to hit on women.  And whatever program the other one's riding on tonight, I'm not going to follow it.  I'm not here to pet any egos...

- (Nicole) All right, just give me a minute to check on—

- (Ben, abruptly interrupting) Hey you don't have to pet anything—you can pet my dick.

- (Dennis) Watch your mouth!

- (Nicole) Cut it out!

- (Dennis) You need to watch your mouth!

- (Joe) All right, all right!  It's all right! Let's go, Ben.

- (Dennis, to Joe) You need to take him...

(In the ensuing mayhem)

- (Ben, whispers to Nicole) Nicole, can I talk to you outside?

- (Nicole) Yea, you need to talk to me.  You guys need to cool it!  Dennis, stay here. You—outside, now!  

- (Dennis) You sure it's all right?

- (Nicole) Yes, I'll be right back.

- (Dennis) I'll stay right here.

- (Nicole,walking Ben outside) What the hell's the—you can't just—

- (Ben, still whispering) Listen to me, listen to me—

- (Nicole) No, you need to calm the fuck—

- (Ben) Good, good; pretend you're berating me.

- (Nicole) What?  I'm going to kick your ass, pal. You can't just disrespect people like that.

- (Ben) No, no listen: I needed to get away from that guy I'm with.  Look, I'm not drunk or anything.

- What?  

- I'm just acting.

- What?!  You're just acting like an asshole?

- Yea—listen, listen.   

- I don't buy it; you were belligerent in there.

- I know—that was great.

- No, it wasn't—you were very rude to my friend; and you don't say those kinds of things in public, especially when there's kids around.

- And women.

- I'm a woman, too, you know.  This isn't a night out at the Bullhead bar.

- I know, that's what I meant, talking like that in front of you. 

- It's a CVS—A grocery store for Christ Sakes.

- But your friend is kind of an asshole for gossiping like that, speaking in absolutes, you know? You should warn him about that, character assassination.

- What are you talking about?

- Here, keep walking with me, so I can tell you this real quick.

- Tell me what?  What's wrong with you?  How much have you had?  Are you high, too?

- Listen, please.

- Did you use?

- Okay, listen—I know it looks bad—

- You're damn right.  You should be embarrassed—I'm embarrassed! 

- I am.  Listen, I'm only pretending to be drunk.

- What?  Why?

- I'm trying to get away from the guy I'm with.

- What the hell are you talking about?

- That guy—

- Joe?  I know Joe.

- He's wants to be my sponsor.

- So?  You need a sponsor right now.

- But he's crowding me.

- Crowding you? 

- Yea, he's all over me.  

- That's cause he's trying to keep from getting into trouble.  He thinks you're drunk, and so do I.

- No, listen, please.

- Okay, what is it?

- Okay, when I first came to the rooms, he took me to a few meetings, see?  Like he was taking me under his wing, right?

- Under his wing?

- Whatever, you get what I mean.

- Yea, he was trying to show you around.  He's a nice guy. He was probably trying to introduce you to more people.

- Then he said he wanted to be my sponsor—he popped the question!

- Popped the question?  What question?  Are you sure you're not drunk?  He wasn't trying to hit on you.

- Yea, I know.  I was just making a funny.

- Okay, just making sure you know.

- Yea, I know.

- Why didn't you try it?  You don't have a sponsor.

- I was just hesitant all around.

- Okay, that's understandable.

- Right.  But he kept bringing it up, that I needed someone to go through the book with me, cause I kept flaking on him all the time.

- He was trying to help you, get you started on some stepwork.  So what's wrong with that?

- Nothing, I just didn't feel like we were compatible.

- What do you mean?  

- I didn't feel comfortable with him.  Every time I talk to him, he's always in a bad mood—just complaining about everything, his parents, sometimes nothing specific and just maintaining an unpleasant air about him, like you have to pry it out of him.  It makes me want to shoot my brains out, just talking to him!

- Oh, come on, don't get dramatic.

- And then right afterwards,  he would go, Don't you think it's time we get started on the book?  I know he's got like four years, but if that's how I'm going to be in four years—

- You shouldn't think like that.

- Yea, but, you get what I'm saying?

- So you just tell him you're not comfortable with him as your sponsor.  

- I don't want to depress him even more.

- Maybe he has other outside issues.  It's just a way of helping himself, if he can help you... Look, why don't you just say you plan to work with someone else.  It's not his place to question your sponsor.  And you won't be lying, cause I'm willing to help you get started.

- I think the reason he keeps pushing me to let him be my sponsor...is that he lives in his car!

- What?  

- Well he doesn't live in his car—he lives out of his car.

- You're being silly.

- One time he picked me up and I thought we were going out for coffee, and he had a big mug of lukewarm coffee with a metal spoon in it; he parked somewhere, and then he took out another mug from under some blankets and books.

- What does this have to do with anything?  Nothing's going to excuse how you were speaking to Dennis.  That's disgusting.

- But Dennis is right.  I think Joe only shows up when Tammy is chairing—you know, that lady that always calls herself a pothead?  And everyone always gets up during her shares to get coffee—except Joe of course, he already has coffee.  

- I have no idea what you're going on about.  And talk about gossiping and speaking in absolutes—

- I think he's looking for a place to stay, I can feel it.  He's trying to worm his way into my life.  I don't feel comfortable opening up to him.

- Then don't—I don't care. Why are you telling Dennis to pet your...whatever.  And calling me sexy mama?  I'm old enough to be your mother.

- I don't know, I was trying to get rid of him...but I think I took it too far...

- You think?

- Now he's going to feel obligated to take me home.

- Of course he is, he's a good friend.

- He's going to want to sleep under my bed and talk about his childhood.

- You're an idiot.

- It's going to be a slippery slope, Nicole.  I think he might be a squatter.

- If you're not drunk—which I'm not even sure of anymore—then you're an idiot, and I'm going home.  

- You think Dennis could take me home?

- I'll talk to you later.  You need to apologize to him, by the way.

- He's going to want to do stepwork every time he wants eggs—

- Cause he'll already have the coffee, right?

- Exactly!

- You're an idiot.  Make sure you apologize to Dennis.

- Great, I'm going to have keep this up all night now.

- Well, you get what you put in.  Can you just tell me what you're doing here with him?  

- I don't know,  I ran into him here. I've been texting him about how gnarly this relapse is to avoid picking up his calls. I just came to pick up some asparagus and mushrooms for this dinner recipe I'm working on.  There was some fresh pumpernickel—he's supposed to wait till I sober up to give me his pitch, isn't he?

- His pitch?  I don't know what to tell you.  Everyone tries to help another to save their own ass, but if you don't want his help, there are better ways to go about it.

- Maybe he wants a job.  I'm going end up running a halfway house.

- Or you might end up in one.  I gotta go, Ben.  Be nice.

- What should I do?

- Use your head—or don't use your head.  Just be nice.