- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -
Mr. Smit?
Yes?
My name is Tatiana Ratowski.
I am the admissions director for the brass division
at the Juilliard School of Music. May I sit?
Gonna order something yet?
Still, uh, deciding.
How about you?
- Do you have any garbage? - Yeah.
Orange rinds, plastic wrap, congealed sticky goop.
- I know what garbage is. - We'll see.
We've been following your career
for quite a while, Mr. Smit.
We've listened to your entire catalog.
Every submission, every piece, every bar, every note.
And I'm here to tell you, under no uncertain terms,
- you're horrible. - What?
You're the worst trumpet player we've ever heard.
You sound like
a hyena that's trying to gargle molasses
while someone plays really bad trumpet music.
But I've been practicing.
I mean, sometimes it feels like the only time
I'm actually not playing the trumpet
is when I'm with my friends at 4:00 in the morning.
How old are you, Mr. Smit?
Fifty? Twelve?
11,000?
I'm 23.
Yes, see, it's too late for you.
But I'm sure you have other interests.
Hopscotch, foraging for wild mushrooms.
A girlfriend, perhaps.
No, none of those things.
Well, how unfortunate.
Are... Are you really telling me it's hopeless?
Nothing is hopeless, Mr. Smit.
Except this one specific thing
that is completely hopeless.
No hope. None.
Please stop bothering us!
Okay.
Good morning.
_
What if he kills himself?
Oh, please.
He hasn't answered his phone in three weeks.
Yeah, because he's been busy calling me every five minutes.
He's heartbroken!
Look, if you wanna screw him again,
I don't give a shit.
- What? - I'm serious.
- Just don't bring him around here. - That's not what I'm saying.
It sounds like what you're saying.
- I'm just worried about him. - Well, don't be.
- You know how he gets. - Yes.
Yeah, I know exactly how he gets.
I've been dealing with exactly how he gets for 10 months
and I don't want to sound like an asshole, but
William is no longer my problem.
I'm in love with Roman Roman.
And it's going great.
Well, what if he kills himself?
He won't.
- How do you know? - Honestly?
Suicide is too much of a commitment.
"Dear Jamie...
Fuck you."
"Dear Jamie...
You are but a flower.
A beautiful, blossoming flower
that has opened its petals and been pollinated
by every stupid Italian be
that doesn't have any insides
and talks like a cartoon idiot stereotype."
"Dear Jamie...
I love you.
I've loved you for a long time now,
but I couldn't admit it.
I thought I needed to have something over you,
to pretend like you werent good enough for me.
I thought that was the only way to keep you.
Now I see it was the ony sure way to lose you."
Okay, then.
Here we go.
Who am I kidding?
Oh!
Argh!
William, what was that?
Oh!
Open the door, William!
Shit...
Yeah, what?
What was that noise?
A bird flew into my window.
You mean out of your window?
What do you want, Mitzi?
Why aren't you answering my calls?
- Because I'm mad at you. - I'm sorry, okay.
I messed up.
But I miss you.
I know there were probably other factors that contributed
- to Jamie breaking up with me... - Like common sense?
But right now, I'm blaming you.
And you're gonna have to live with that
until I'm ready to forgive you for
coercing me into sex.
Yeah, I remember really having to twist your arm.
Thank you, but that wasn't my arm.
What's this?
No. Just... Hey. Just give it to me...
- Don't read... - "Dear Jamie,
I can't masturbate to your picture anymore without crying."
"I tried to use the tears as lubricant,
but it appears the water is too hard."
"Must be the extra calcium I've been getting in my diet
after all the weight-lifting I've been doing."
My God, man.
Time to go.
But I miss you and I'm lonely.
- Get a pet. - You mean like a bird?
Hey!
You're the girl that threw the brick through the window
of the Philosophy Department.
How do you know that?
That's how I know.
Your reasoning is epistemologically unsound!
Hey, Amadeus.
What's that on your face, Mitzi?
Karma.
Can I get the falafel platter?
And, instead of the tabbouleh salad,
can I get another falafel platter?
Washroom key?
Here you go.
Hello?
She bleeds with the sexuality,
yet she remains
hopelessly repressed.
Spectral,
unsubstantial...
Shrouded in a veil of disappointment,
she has no direction,
no purpose.
Yet, I see promise in her eyes, Roman Roman.
Perhaps even the embryosis of worth.
No, no, no.
This is her trick, huh?
There is no intrinsic value here.
She cares only to satisfy those around her.
You know, she is the...
The stimulus,
the muse,
the step-stool.
Yes.
Tell me,
what do you call her?
I call her...
Jamie.
- Jamie. - What?
Argh!
Help!
I did not know you were coming tonight.
I can see that.
Look. Look, look, look, look...
Huh?
Please.
I am full again.
- You did this for me. - Is that your defense?
Defense? Defense for what?
You called me a step-stool.
Yes, yes, you are my beautiful little step-stool.
What the fuck, man?
I do not understand. I thought you liked this?
I'm not a...
How could you possibly think...
No.
- No, you're just like him. - Who?
Who is the one I am like, huh?
William.
You know, I've been a completely
different person these past few weeks
and still you think I'm some...
Loser.
Perhaps, Jamie,
it is time for you to face to the music.
What?
The music,
face to it.
Help!
Help?
Jamie?
What's wrong? What's happening?
I don't know. I think it's the baby.
I've been having these...
Okay. Okay. This is gonna be okay.
All right? I delivered hundreds of babies
when I was living with the Kalash people
of northern Pakistan, so this is gonna be...
- Stop with this bullshit! - What?
You've never been to Pakistan.
You've never been swallowed by a whale
or married to a European princess.
You've never met your father and your mother gave you up
because she was a drug addict.
You had a shitty childhood just like most people.
You're not special, you're not damaged,
you're just plain, uninteresting,
Jamie Holloway Schwarzenegger
and right now there's something seriously fucking wrong
with your best friend!
We have to get you to a hospital.
I'm in a hospital.
What?
All right, Mitzi, it's time to start pushing.
What? Pushing? No, it's too early, it's not time.
Hi. Um, I'm looking for my friend.
- She was just brought in... - Jamie?
William?
One more push, Mitzi.
There we go! Yeah.
What is it?
Is it a girl or...
Congratulations.
You have a beautiful baby pig.
What?
But...
I don't understand.
How is this possible?
Well, it appears you've had a miscarriage.
- A miscarriage? - Yes. A mistaken-carriage.
You were supposed to carry a human,
but instead you carried a pig.
Now, perhaps you're familiar with Stuart Little?
- The children's book? - The medical case.
Actually, this sort of thing is pretty common.
I've requested a specialist to help walk you through this.
Or, should I say, trot you through this.
Sorry.
What?
Heya, kiddo.
Don't you "Heya, kiddo" me!
What the hell is this?
I'm sorry, all right, these things happen.
- This is your fault. - Whoa, now!
It's no one's fault.
This is natural. Okay?
- This is just the universe telling you... - What?
That I'm a horrible person?
That I deserve to be punished?
Of course not.
I fucked everything up.
I lied to Jamie and to William and to Bondurant.
Everyone hates each other because of me.
I deserve this.
I've known you for a long time, right?
And you've always been there for me.
Kept me out of the slaughter house,
shot the coyote that ate my family.
And when I got cancer,
you gave me those magic beans so I could say goodbye.
Albert...
You're like the sister I never had
because she was eaten by a coyote.
And no matter what,
I'll always be there for you,
because you've always been there for me.
Why'd you have to die, Albert?
I guess I was just too good for this world, kiddo.
What're you doing here?
There was a...
- What's that? - A cousin that I had...
Jesus.
It's nothing.
Catch your earring on something, precious?
Look, can you just pretend like I'm not here?
- Did you shoot yourself? - What? No.
I've robbed enough people
to know what gunpowder smells like, William.
- Did you do it on purpose? - Of course not.
You do know that the earlobe is not a vital organ, right?
That's why it didn't take.
Is this because of me?
There is no "this". This was an accident.
Yeah, yeah. No, of course. It's just...
I'm flattered. You know, I've never
had someone try to kill themselves over me before.
Except all three times you were married.
Yeah. Yeah, no.
Obviously except for all those three times.
Hey, hon, how're you doing?
Had a mistaken-carriage.
Mitzi, I'm so sorry.
It's a pig.
Yeah, I can see that.
Hey, there, little fella.
- What are you doing here? - Oh, I...
- I heard that you were... - The idiot tried to kill himself.
- I knew it! - I didn't try to...
Never mind.
Thank you for that.
What ya doin', mister?
I've broken forth from the shackles of my musical prison
and now I endeavor to ends of the Earth,
in search of love,
adventure
and powerful hallucinogenics.
It will not be pretty,
or come with ease,
but I shall emerge stronger for it
and with a new sense of purpose
and self.
Eh. My brother makes sex to our couch cushions.
I'm very sorry to hear that.
Now...
If you would be so kind as to point me to Shangri-La.
Just as I suspected.
Sun's out.
We should probably get some sleep.
So you name the little sucker yet?
Just thinking Margaret might be nice.
Why does that sound familiar?
What's that?
It kind of looks like a shooting star.
How sad.
Sad?
Imagine spending your whole life alone,
hurtling through space hoping to make an impact somewhere.
And when you finally get close to doing something meaningful,
you just burn out in the atmosphere.
Maybe this one will be different.
Maybe.
- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -