(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
(CROCKERY SHATTERS)
- What do you mean your pig spoke to you? - (DOOR OPENS)
I mean, he spoke to me.
We had a conversation.
A real fucking conversation.
And then he died.
Well, tell me what he said.
You know, sarcasm gives you wrinkles.
That wasn't sarcasm. That was a thinly-veiled spurn.
You think I'm crazy.
I don't think you're crazy. I think you're overwrought.
I mean, he spoke to me and then he died.
- (WHISPERS) That's how it works. - That's how what works?
(KNOCK AT DOOR)
Shut up! She's about to tell a goddamn story!
I'm in love.
- Jesus. - I don't know what to do.
Do you think she loves me back?
- Why don't you ask her? - Ask her?
Like, right here in front of you and Mitzi?
In front of me and Mitzi?
- I thought it was Mitzi. - Oh, no, no, it's Jamie.
My Jamie? You're in love with my Jamie?
That's a strange way to put it.
- What's so strange about it? - I don't know.
I just told you I'm in love with your girlfriend,
and you made it sound like I asked to borrow your car.
- How am I supposed to respond? - Emotionally! (BANGS TABLE)
God damn it! You should hit me.
- Go ahead, hit me. - I'm not gonna hit you.
Hit me or I'll think you're a coward.
Sure. Fine. I'm a coward.
- (KNOCK AT DOOR) - So this morning,
I take Buzz Fledderjohn to the vet.
As you know, he's been having some trouble not seizing.
Well, the vet tells me it's cancer.
- Aw, I didn't know pigs could get cancer. - Anything can get cancer.
And he says it's all going to start to go.
Bladder. Swallowing. Vision. Real nasty shit.
So she offers to give him an injection.
And that does what? Shrinks the cancer?
- No. It kills the pig. - Oh...
Right. So I said I needed some time to think about it.
- I mean, this was my childhood pet. - (KNOCK AT DOOR)
My confidant, my best friend, really.
That's kind of sad. (CHUCKLES)
Don't you think I know it's fuckin' sad? I was a lonely kid.
Anyway, I took him to his favorite spot. The duck pond.
But while we were sitting there, a shaman approached us.
- A shaman? - Yes.
An intermediary between the natural and the supernatural worlds.
He spoke only in an ancient pangellical lexicon,
yet somehow, I understood him as though it were plain old English.
And he said, "Albert's sick."
I said, "Albert? His name is Buzz Fledderjohn."
The shaman assured me that he had met the pig's spirit
and his name was, in fact, Albert.
Albert, the pig.
So the shaman could tell I cared deeply for Albert,
so he offered me a handful of gray-colored beans.
- Beans? - Yes. Magical beans.
I said, "Magic? Magic how?"
The shaman explained that the beans would allow Albert to speak to me
for eighteen minutes, but once the eighteen minutes were up,
- he'd die. - Why only eighteen minutes?
That was Albert's favorite number.
Well, why didn't you just tell him that his favorite number was like,
a billion or something?
- Because it's not. - (POUNDING AT THE DOOR)
What?
C'mon. You can tell me the rest later.
BONDURANT: (SIGHS)
I want her, William.
Find out if she loves me back.
You understand why I'm not going to do that, right?
I'm shy.
- What if she doesn't feel the same way? - She doesn't.
Is this because you're in love with her, too?
- No. - See? You don't even care about her.
I... I... I care about her, you know.
And just because I don't love her right now,
doesn't mean I might not potentially love her
maybe some time down the road.
"Jamie, from the moment I met you,"
"I knew, I might potentially love you."
"Well, maybe some time down the road."
- (SIGHS) All right. - Not exactly Pablo Neruda.
You want me to help you bang my girlfriend and
- I'm not going to do it. - That's ridiculous.
You don't bang a girl like Jamie.
- JAMIE: Whatcha talking about? - Nothing.
I was just saying how you don't bang a girl like you.
- What? - And I asked William
- to find out if you loved me back. - Loved you back from what?
BONDURANT: Loving you.
I thought you were shy.
I'm a better man around her!
- Can you jump in here, please? - I don't see how this involves me.
- He's your boyfriend. - What do you mean "my boyfriend"?
I don't own him, William, he's not a car.
- Oh! - So, what do you do with me?
I'm sorry?
Well, you said you don't bang a girl like me.
I just wanted to know what you do with me.
- I'd make love to you. - Aw.
Don't... Don't "aw" that. Why are you awwing that?
- It's cute! - You think Bondurant's cute?
- No. - No?
No. I mean, yeah, I think you're cute, but I wouldn't...
I was...
I was awwing at the fact that he'd make love to me. It's sweet.
- Try that again? - Look, William!
We're "friends". That's "important" to me.
If you tell me you don't want me
to be in love with your girlfriend,
I won't be in love with your girlfriend.
- Don't be in love with my girlfriend. - I can't! I'm sorry!
- I'm desperately in love with her. - This is ridiculous, Bondurant.
I'm sorry, you're a nice guy, but I'm in love with William.
- What? - What?
- You're in love with me? - No. Uh...
Well, this is just fuckin' perfect.
I take it back.
It's out there now, you can't take it back.
Sure, she can. Let her take it back.
Yeah, William, quit being such a prick.
Bondurant, this is insane.
I'm dating your best friend. Hell, you're dating my best friend.
Don't drag me into this.
No, I'm just saying that even if I did love you back,
nothing could ever happen...
What do you mean, "Even if I did love you back"?
- What? - Are you saying that
if I was out of the picture, you two would be dating?
I just told you that I loved you.
And then you took it back.
- I don't think you can have it both ways. - That's not helping.
I don't remember trying to help.
Fine.
- You really want to know? - I really want to know.
Then, yeah, sure. In some alternate universe
where you and I had never met, I might date Bondurant.
Well, why don't we stick to this universe?
Well, in this universe we met.
- So my earlier principle applies. - What if I died?
What if I was dead?
Would you date Bondurant then, huh?
Jesus, William, when did you become such a drama queen?
Well, if you died really tragically,
I could imagine a situation
where I might turn to Bondurant for support.
Of course, that would lead to late-night conversations,
emotions all abuzz, comforting hugs and whatnot.
Eventually, there's a touch of a shoulder,
a lingering glance.
And, in our fragile states, we would
use each other to dull the pain of a friend lost.
There's a slight reluctance at first but
as our nubile bodies writhe between the sheets in tangled bliss,
the ecstasy growing with each tender thrust,
like a piston picking up steam in the hull of a ship.
Harder and harder and faster and faster
and harder and harder and harder and faster
- and harder and harder... - I'm coming! I'm coming! I'm coming!
(BELL TINKLES)
So you've thought about it.
No. I'm... I'm saying in that situation
I could imagine something happening between us.
- You're saying yes? - I'm saying if you died tragically.
I'm 24 years old.
Tragically, is the only way I can die for the next 30 years.
Are you jealous of me and Bondurant?
WILLIAM: There is no you and Bondurant.
Are you jealous of our love?
You know, I'm certainly getting why your parents abandoned you.
Nice, William.
Real damn nice.
- I'm sorry. You know, I didn't mean it. - JAMIE: Don't.
(SIGHS)
(DOOR OPENS)
Ah-ha-ha!
(SIRENS WAILING AT A DISTANCE)
God, I hate them!
Let's walk. I love to walk.
- Hear back from anyone yet? - Not so much.
If you want, my bank's looking for a new Senior Accounting Officer.
- I could put you up for it. - Again?
That's like the third one this year.
They keep getting pushed out of helicopters.
Well, what kind of experience do I need?
Just a finance degree from an Ivy League.
Ten years at a Big Four accounting firm.
I can't even land a waitressing gig.
You think I got a shot?
I mean, at this point we're just looking
for somebody who can keep their damn mouth shut.
Buy me a beef hotdog?
Want anything?
Where do you get your gorilla?
I'm fine.
(SCOFFS) I didn't know Bondurant
was going to say all that stuff.
Sure, you did. You knew in the way that all pretty girls
know the men of their less pretty friends are in love with them.
- What? - You're prettier than I am.
- No, I'm not. - Denying it doesn't make you humble,
it makes you a liar.
And the only thing worse than being humble is being a liar.
I'm not being humble,
I just don't like to judge people like that.
I don't like giving head, doesn't mean
I don't find myself down there from time to time.
- Oh, come on, you love giving head. - Not enough, apparently.
Where are you going?
(GRUNTS)
(GLASS SHATTERS)
Little sluts stole our cab.
I don't think they're going to get the message.
The affected party's immaterial.
There was an injustice perpetrated.
I, in turn, perpetrated one injustice.
Is that like the cynic's version of paying it forward?
There's a fixed amount of happiness in the universe.
If something really good happens to someone,
something really shitty has to happen to someone else.
But what if our hijacked cab
was itself balancing an already incurred injustice?
Well, then, it appears I've karmically fucked us all.
BONDURANT: William, we need to talk.
I do not want to talk about my fam...
Then just put your hand out.
I'm just going to take a tiny nap.
See, even everything about you, you close it.
You cover your crotch area, and that...
That tells me quite a bit about what is going on.
I will just lay here.
If I lay here, William, and just support my head.
I have two hearts, split in two.
- Oh, is that what it is? - One on either side of me.
Is that why you're extra sensitive
about everything that we discuss?
William, I want to get the same hair cut as you.
But, but you're... Look... (LAUGHS)
Excuse me!
What... What are you doing?
- "Extra sensitive?" - Okay, the...
- Oh, now I'm the sensitive one? - Ah...
Talk, William.
Let's, let's talk about you.
How about you? What's...
How's your dad doing?
- My dad? - Yeah.
What? Hey! Hey! You can't do that!
You can't tickle me!
And when the queen has enough nectar,
the worker wasps have nothing to do.
So they just sit around all day
drinking fermented fruit and stinging people.
MITZI: Huh.
I mean, isn't that like the most concerning thing you've ever heard?
Angry, drunk, out-of-work wasps?
I suppose.
- You don't find that concerning? - I said I suppose.
- I don't know what that indicates. - It indicates what it indicates.
Indifference, disinterest, stupidity. Nothing.
None of those things are nothing.
Do you really think Bondurant said
what he said because you don't blow him enough?
What? No.
I don't think that.
Why?
Do you think that? No.
No, nothing, it's just something that you said before.
Something I said before?
Yeah, you said, "Not enough, apparently."
- But forget it, it's not important. - When did I say that?
Earlier, when we were talking about blowing Bondurant.
- We never talked about blowing Bondurant. - Yes, we did. Earlier.
I talked about it.
Yeah, of course, that's what I meant, obviously.
- Obviously. - Obviously.
I'm having Bondurant's abortion.
- What? - You asked, so I'm telling you.
That's why I said, "Not enough, apparently."
Although, if there was ever a candidate
for the first-ever fellatic conception,
I'm pretty sure we'd have a decent shot.
I don't know what Jamie sees in you.
Well, I never asked her, so...
- She must think you're funny. - Sure. Fine.
Oh, I bet that's it! You're funny.
- Say your funniest thing. - What?
Make me laugh or I'll think you're not funny.
No.
No. You know what, what about you?
You've been sleeping on my couch for six months.
Frankly, I don't know what Mitzi sees in a loser like you.
I'm an artist, man. She's attracted to my soul.
She didn't seem to mind when you wanted to leave her for Jamie.
Mitzi may act cavalier,
but I know the girl is devastated.
Or maybe that "artist soul" of yours
isn't quite cutting it in the big city.
(SOBS)
Bondurant. Shh. Shh.
- I was kidding. - I told her, William!
The letter came last week and I told her!
- You told her what? - I was admitted to Juilliard.
Bondurant! That's incredible!
- Congrats, buddy. - It's a lie, William!
- It's a horrible, horrible lie! - Shh.
They don't want me.
I gave them the best I had, I really did,
and I nailed it. I nailed that audition.
And still, they say no.
- I'm a fraud. - Shh.
- You're not. You're not a fraud. - I'm a big, fat fraud.
- You're very talented. - Oh, please!
- No, no, it's true. - You are just saying that,
- so I won't make a scene! - Shh! You're not. I mean it.
I always tell people about you.
- Who? - Who?
- Who do you tell about me? - Just people that I know.
What do you tell them about me?
Just how talented you are. And things like that.
Do you tell them I was self-taught? Do you tell them that part?
Sure. Of course I say you were self-taught.
That's the most important part.
- You can't tell them that! - Why not? It's very impressive.
Oh, the trumpet scene is a fraternity, William!
It's an exclusive little fraternity just like...
Everything else.
It's all about where and with whom you trained.
To be self-taught is to be a leper.
Okay, someone will see your talent, Bondurant. It just takes time.
Oh, you don't get it.
You don't understand. You're not an artist.
- I'm a writer. - Oh, nobody reads books anymore.
- Some people read. - No one.
Where are you going? This isn't our stop.
You're pregnant?
- Transitorily. - And...
And it's Bondurant's?
- Well, does he know? - Of course he knows.
Why do you think he wants to ditch me for you?
- I'm kidding. Jesus! - (SIGHS)
- You should tell him. - Why? Show me the handbook.
Show me the rule that says every stupid fucking pregnancy
has to be disclosed to all material parties.
But what if he wants to, you know, have it?
He got into Juilliard, Jamie.
- What? - He told me he got accepted.
Apparently, they loved his audition.
Compared him to a young Bix Beiderbecke.
Bix Beiderbecke died at twenty-eight.
There was only ever a young Bix Beiderbecke.
Is that really the issue right now?
You're being hysterical.
This might be okay. I mean,
maybe they have some sort of program.
You know, for musicians with babies or something.
This isn't goddamn junior college for pregnant teen moms,
this is fuckin' Juilliard.
I'm not going to drop this on him right now,
even if I did want to keep it.
Do you want to keep it?
No.
I mean... (SIGHS)
Yeah. I mean...
It's complicated.
My family used to have Christmas dinner
at Casa Santa Marta, for God sakes.
Is that where the Pope lives?
But if I do tell him about this unholy growth
in my apparently really fuckin' fertile uterus,
he's going to think I'm using it just to keep him
and I don't want him to think that.
Oh, come on. You don't know that.
Maybe he wants to get rid of the little sucker, too.
You think?
Yeah, abortions are totally back in vogue.
That brunch place around the corner
grates the morning-after pill into their omelets.
That's not the issue. (SIGHS)
- Then what's the issue? - (EXHALES) I don't know.
Nothing.
Can we just smoke, please?
- Sure, hon. - (FOOTSTEPS RECEDING)
Passion, William!
I have no goddamn passion!
What are we talking about?
They give you feedback, did you know that?
"Strong technically, lacked passion."
- Where are we? - Help me with this.
- Is this Massey Hall? - They want to see passion?
(GRUNTS) I'll show them goddamn passion!
What are you doing?
When I was a child, my dad would take me
to a male strip club a town over from us.
If he was ever caught by an acquaintance or a work colleague,
he would explain that he was not there for himself,
but rather that I had been
grabbing boys' penises in the showers at school
and he wanted to scare me straight.
That's... That's horrifying.
After a while, I grew quite familiar with some of the staff.
One in particular. A Korean dancer named Greg.
He would trip the light fantastic
to this brilliantly sexy jazz tune.
It was entrancing.
I'd never heard anything like it.
So one day I removed a dollar
from my dad's martini glass of dollars,
walked up to the stage,
placed the bill in his G-string
and asked for the name of the artist.
He said, "Come see me after the show, little bucko."
- Dear God. - That night
in Greg's private dressing room
at the Dalliancer, I became a man.
The way a boy does when he listens to jazz for the first time.
We grooved and cut
and skipped to the sweet symphonic melodies
of the Massey Hall Jazz Band Anthology
in the time it took my father to be brought to climax
in a nearby room for very important people.
It was illuminative, William.
And I was awake.
- I certainly hope so. - On the drive home that night,
I asked my dad, I said,
"Dad, how can I get to Massey Hall?"
And despite the spiritous blood drenching his brain,
my father took his eyes off the icy Manitoban freeway
and said something so simple,
yet so profound.
I knew it would follow me for the rest of my musical life.
He said, "Practice, Bondurant, practice."
You know that's a very famous joke, right?
What? No, it's not a joke, William.
It's a special thing between me and my dad!
Your entire life is based on an old vaudeville routine
and the fancy tastes of a good-natured male stripper?
It's based on a lie, William!
I practiced.
Just like he said, I practiced 'til my lips were bloody and raw,
but it wasn't goddamn good enough!
Now either help me break into Massey Hall
or go the fuck home.
(SIGHS)
You have to put your weight into it.
MITZI: Not too much.
We should leave something for the doctor to do.
You know,
the Greeks had a word,
acratic.
The reluctance to do something we know is good for us.
Not to be confused with Socratic.
To do something we know is good
that gets us beheaded.
Actually, Socrates was poisoned by hemlock.
(SIGHS)
Those inhumane Athenian bastards.
I just remembered.
I never finished my story.
(EXHALES)
Regale me.
- William... - Shut up, Bondurant.
(SIGHS)
So the shaman left.
And, after some consideration,
I decided to feed Albert the beans.
(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)
I had a feeling.
But nothing happened.
So there I am, sitting on the bench,
crying my eyes out while Albert chases ducks.
And all of a sudden, I hear...
In a low growl,
"I wanna bury my snout in your tits."
And when I look up,
there's Albert staring me right in the face.
He says I have a nice rack
and because he has cancer
I should let him have a poke around.
He also says he wants deviled eggs.
Apparently, a few fell on the floor a couple of years ago,
and he's "developed" a taste.
I mean, can you believe that?
Forget the inter-special attraction,
which frankly makes no sense to me, but here we are,
mankind's first substantial encounter with the animal kingdom
and I'm expecting something profound.
I mean, for God's sake,
this pig was like an older brother to me.
He could at least tell me he enjoyed our time together.
That it was all going to be okay,
something like that.
But all he wanted to do is eat and screw.
MITZI: I suppose I should have expected it.
He is a pig after all.
BONDURANT: All right. Hand me my trumpet.
- Okay. - Seriously, you have one job,
to have my trumpet
- available at all times. - Shh.
Anyway, after he jerked himself off,
we got to talking which was fine.
Although most of it was spent convincing him
that the mirror was, in fact,
not another pig living in our apartment.
He took that pretty hard.
Apparently, they were close.
But before he died, there was something he said
that I thought was so peculiar,
and I know what you're gonna say,
"It's a talking pig, wasn't everything he said peculiar?"
Well, yes.
But there was one thing...
One thing that really stood out.
He said he watched you and Bondurant having sex.
That's right, Jamie.
The pig squealed.
- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -