It's a story that might bore you, but you don't have to listen,
because I always knew it was going to be like that.
Woman: And it was, I think, in that last year, or weekend--
really a Friday in December at Camden--
and this was years ago, when I was a different person
and I was so drunk that I ended up losing my virginity.
I lost it to some guy who I thought was a Ceramics major,
but was actually either a NYU film student
who was just up to Camden for the "End of the World,"
or a townie.
I actually had my eye on someone else that night-- Victor.
I'm telling you, with European girls,
it's just a numbers game.
If you stand in any major European city on any fucking corner,
and consecutively ask every girl that walks by if she'll fuck you,
one out of 20 will say "yes."
Woman: A junior, a Drama major, just back from Europe...
only a little gay, with flecked blond hair,
a great body and these amazing gray eyes.
Bam-- 20th one, you're fucking. Right there.
It's a confirmed statistic, my man.
Woman: But Victor was fucking my roommate, Lara.
She gave him mono before he dumped her.
I'm told that later, after I left Camden,
she got really drunk and went wandering through Windham House,
and did the whole football team.
Man: White girl...
She's now married to a senator and has four kids.
How time distorts things.
So you know the movie I'm talking about?
It was wrongfully labeled "A Tarantino Film,"
even though he was just credited as executive producer.
So this guy from NYU, or whatever--
who wasn't even a good Victor facsimile--
and I were talking on this ratty old couch.
I'm sure you've seen this movie, this Russian classic,
- "The Man with the Camera"? - Yep, yep.
I kept agreeing with his likes and dislikes, all the time thinking
that while he might not be Victor, he was cute enough.
It's real. It's like real... shit.
I was sure that I was mispronouncing all these filmmakers' names,
remembering all the wrong actors,
naming the wrong cinematographers, but I wanted him.
...I see the same kind of "silent movie actress" quality.
Seriously, has anyone ever told you you look like Clara Bow?
Because you do, I'm serious. I'm telling you.
I know these things, and... and...
Woman: I could see that his gaze was drifting towards Kristin Notneff.
And she was looking back at him with confidence, because she knew
that underneath her clothes she was wearing a black bra
with matching black lace panties, which I wasn't.
Um, I'm sorry, what was I talking about?
Woman: But I had the next best thing.
I've got a joint in my room.
Except it wasn't my room. It was Lorna Slavin's room,
who was off-campus at her boyfriend's house,
probably swallowing his DNA.
And I didn't have a joint either,
and if I did, I didn't know where it was,
because it would have been Lorna Slavin's joint.
He wouldn't have cared if I had one or not.
I must have passed out around then.
When I came to, he was already fucking me,
but he didn't know that I was a virgin and that it hurt.
Not that badly-- only a little bit of sharp pain,
but not as bad as I had been taught to expect--
but not exactly pleasant, either.
That's when I heard another voice in the room.
Now, I want you to do her like Ron Jeremy would.
Woman: I remember the weight on the bed shifting,
and realizing that this person behind me
wasn't the NYU film student guy, but somebody else.
Oh, my God, it was some townie.
I had actually lost my virginity to a townie.
This wouldn't have happened with Victor.
He would have taken me gently in his big, strong Drama major arms,
and undressed me quietly and expertly,
taken my bra off with grace and ease.
And it probably wouldn't have hurt.
I should have given myself to Victor last term when I had the chance.
Dude, we had to put the keg somewhere.
Don't put it there, it's blocking my shot.
Now get the fuck out of here before you ruin my movie.
Woman: I always knew it would be like this.
I just get the feeling my life lacks forward momentum.
Like everything is moving by so quickly
that time just seems to stop.
Man's voice: Sometimes I can't believe the shit
that spills out of my mouth.
So while I talk about God knows what,
I let my eyes drift across the room,
as my mouth allows thoughts to drop out of my brain
and roll off my tongue like gumballs,
I imagine all the things in life that never were,
and all the things that could have been.
He'll do.
I like this song.
Man's voice: Gay song, definitely.
Do you have any E?
That shit makes your spinal fluid run backwards.
- I may have some up in my room. - You're game, right?
No one's twisting your arm.
I don't even know why I'm trying to convince you.
Let's do it.
I think it's kicking in.
I feel it now, too.
Man's voice: The truth is, I feel nothing.
What the fuck!
- Sorry, I thought you were gay. - Fuck you, I'm no fag!
You sure about that?
I definitely detect a certain "faggy-ness" to you.
Get the fuck outta here, you fucking homo!
I'm not gay.
You're lucky I don't kill you.
Luck has nothing to do with it.
Everything is preordained.
Manifest destiny.
You can stop time from happening no more than you can will
the oceans to overwhelm the world,
or to cause the moon to drop from her outer sphere.
Three months later, the handsome dunce
had an affair with a friend of mine.
Within a year, he was a full-blown queen
and telling people I couldn't get it up.
Luck has nothing to do with anything.
Man's voice: A great numb feeling washes over me
as I let go of the past and look forward to the future.
I pretend to be a vampire.
I don't really need to pretend, because that's who I am,
an emotional vampire.
I've just come to expect it--
that vampires are real,
that I was born this way,
that I feed off of other people's real emotions.
I search for this night's prey.
Who will it be?
You look familiar-- have we met?
I think I fucked her somewhere toward the beginning of term,
the "Wet Wednesday" party.
No.
- What's your name? - Peter.
Really? Aren't you a senior?
No, a freshman.
Really? I thought you were older.
No, I'm a freshman.
Peter. Peter the freshman.
She has dick-sucking lips, so I consider the options.
I leave right now, go back to my room,
play the guitar...
masturbate to broadband-speed Internet porn...
I'm going to come on those tits.
...go to sleep.
Or...
I could play "Quarters" with Dickie and Quinlivan
and that dumb guy from LA.
Or I could take her to the Carousel for some coffee
and ditch her there with the bill.
Or I could take her back to my room,
hope the Frog is gone, get stoned and fuck her.
So, what do you think?
What do I think?
I think, why not?
Rock and roll.
She slowly followed me back to my dorm room
Iike she knew this would happen,
too eager, too stunned to speak.
I was so excited, I couldn't stop shaking
and I dropped the key when I tried to unlock the door.
She sat on the bed and I played her a song I had written myself,
then segued into one by Counting Crows.
I played it quietly and sang the lyrics slowly and softly.
She was so moved that she actually started to cry.
* I'm not ready for this sort of thing... *
Maybe it was the Ecstasy I'm pretty sure she was on.
Maybe it was that she thought she really loved me.
But when he kissed her on the lips, he instantly went hard.
She was crying, her face was slick,
but she let let him pull her clothes off.
She smelled like sweet fruit. She was small, too.
Her pubic hair was light and sparse.
Yet, when he fingered her, he didn't feel anything--
she wasn't getting wet,
even though she was making soft little moans.
He was semi-stiff and losing his erection.
Something was wrong, something was missing,
he didn't know what.
Confused, he started to fuck her.
Before he came, it hit him--
he can't remember the last time he had sex sober.
Girl: Peter! Oh, Peter!
Fuck!
* This is stranger than I thought *
* Six different ways inside my heart *
* And everyone I'll keep tonight *
* Six different ways go deep inside *
* I'll tell them anything at all *
* I know I'll give them more and more... *
* I'll tell them anything at all *
* I know I'll give the world and more *
* They think I'm on my hands and head *
* This time they're much too slow *
* Six sides to every lie I say *
* It's that American voice again *
* It was never quite like this before *
* Not one of you is the same *
* To do do do... *
You sneaky bitch.
Sean's voice: "Got you.
You're mine now for the rest of the day,
week, month, year, life.
Have you guessed who I am? Sometimes I think you have.
Sometimes, when you're scanning a crowd,
I feel those sultry dark eyes of yours stop on me.
Are you too afraid to come up to me and let me know how you feel?
I want to moan and writhe with you,
and I want to go up to you and kiss your mouth
and pull you to me and say, 'Love you, love you,'
while stripping.
I want you so bad it stings.
I want to kill the ugly girls you're always with.
Do you really like those boring, naive, coy, calculating girls,
or is it just for sex?
The seeds of love have taken hold,
and if we won't burn together, I'll burn alone."
* This is stranger than I ever thought. *
What?
How'd she do that?
Blood clot.
What's going on?
You're gonna have to sell that bike of yours,
- that's what's going on. - Why?
Where's my money, college boy?
Do you take American Express?
That's not funny.
You like that?
They taught it to me in the Army.
One of 1 7 hand-to-hand combat methods
of rendering your enemy defenseless.
Now, all I got to do is apply positive pressure
to rip your carpals free from your metacarpals,
and you will be unable to operate your weapon!
I'm not your enemy, Rupert, and I don't have a weapon.
That's why you get a little time, homes.
You want some coke?
Sure.
Then buy some of your own, bitch.
Get the fuck out of my crib and get me my money.
There's an Orgy Night at Booth House.
I'm scoring for a bunch of freshman.
They're rich, they want cocaine, they'll pay premium to get it.
What do you think?
I think you're a rich motherfucking motherfucker,
who owes me a shitload of motherfucking cash.
That's what I think, you rich motherfucking motherfucker.
You want some blow, motherfucker?
You bring me my motherfucking cash, motherfucker! Fuck you!
Jesus fucking Christ, Rupert, don't get so tense.
I'll show you tense, motherfucker.
You're into me for a fuckload of money,
and I think you and your motherfucking rich-kid friends
are gonna take off to all your rich-ass motherfucking lives,
Ieaving me holding my motherfucking dick!
So fuck you!
Fucking, Rupert, fucking A'. I'm not like those rich assholes.
I'm on financial aid. I have to work for a living.
I'm from a fucking farm in Nebraska.
My family had to sell the fucking cow to get me here.
- I'm working in food service. - Bullshit!
My father's in the hospital, okay?
My family's strapped for cash. I might have to drop out.
- Really? - The Lord is my witness. Yes.
You really don't have any fucking cash?
No, I had to work all summer just to pay for this term.
I thought you went home to New York for the summer.
That's what I told people so they wouldn't laugh at me.
I actually had to wash pigs all summer, Rupert.
Jesus Christ, man, I can get these kids to overpay,
they're so desperate for drugs.
I'm your key to moving this shit on campus.
You need me, and you know it.
And I need the cash. We need each other.
You get this straight, fuckhead.
I need you like I need
a motherfucking asshole on my elbow!
Right here! An asshole!
That's how much I need you.
What do you think, Guest?
I think you should sniff less cocaine.
And stop leaving the gun there laying on the table, man.
Leave the boy alone before he piss in panty.
You know I'm just fucking with you, baby, right?
Right.
What kind of markup do you think you can get
off these rich-ass freshmen?
Well, that depends on how stepped-on it is.
Stepped-on? Guest, is our shit stepped-on?
No, man, it's fresher than the morning snow.
What the bumbaclot wrong with him?
Maybe 20% over market value.
50%, you say!
Hot damn, college boy!
That's some good motherfucking math!
I do believe we have ourselves a deal.
Do we have ourselves a deal?
Sean: Sure.
Good, it's time for you to get to work.
Sometimes, a minute...
will last like an hour, you know?
Where other times...
an hour just...
just zips by in like a minute.
It's all subjective.
Every person perceives it...
perceives it different.
It's like, that's why you can't trust clocks, you know?
Marc, you owe me 500 bucks.
I want it by Sunday.
Okay?
You notice I don't have any clocks in my room,
because they interfere with your ability to...
...to adjust the time to...
to suit your needs, you know?
Marc.
Do not be a slave to time, my friend,
because, it--
there's no point.
I-- I can feel my dick.
I can feel my dick.
Whoo!
Oh my God!
- Hey! Fucking, hey!
What about the cash?
Marc, what about the fucking cash?
What class, man?
Who teaches that?
Fucking--
Just go away, you know.
Just stop bugging me.
Just stop asking me. Stop kicking my fucking bed.
Stop, you know, oooh...
I'll get you your fucking-- just don't fuck my karma, dude!
Don't fuck it up!
* Get yourself together, get yourself together *
* Shake, shake, shake... *
* Get yourself together... *
Hi, Mitch. What's up?
Not very much. What's up with you?
Not much.
Can we talk?
What do you want to talk about?
Just what's going on.
Hey, I warned you.
Remember that.
I know, I know.
Wait, what did you warn me about?
I warned you!
* Shake, shake, shake... *
Wait, Mitch.
Mitch, don't be such a pussy.
I am warning you again.
I don't know what your fucking problem is.
Just stay the fuck aw--
- Hey. - Hey, guys.
Is there some sort of problem, Paul and Mitchell?
No-- you two know each other?
Yeah. Hi.
Hi.
Mitch, I'm kinda through partying tonight.
Do you want to walk me back to my room?
My roommate's at her boyfriend's tonight.
Mitch: Yeah.
What about you, Paul? What are you doing?
- Come on, let's go. - It might be fun.
- No. - Come on.
- Let's go. - You know you want to.
- Later, guy. - Bye, Paul. Maybe next time.
Mr. Bateman.
Excuse you.
Sean Bateman, right?
Right. It's Paul?
Right.
The girl with Mitchell?
Paul: You mean, Candice? Her name is Candice.
Yeah, that's right.
I had a class with her, but I failed it.
Really? My type of guy.
Fucking keg's dead.
Typical. I wish I had a case of beer.
- Quesadilla? - What?
A quesadilla? Mexican food? El Sombrero?
El Sombrero closed a long time ago.
How about tomorrow night? I'll buy.
I don't know. You'll buy?
Totally buy.
Rock and roll.
Tomorrow, then.
* Yellow is the color of my true love's hair *
* In the morning, when we rise *
- * That's the time * - * That's the time *
* I love the best *
* Green is the color... *
How could you possibly go out this early in the morning?
- I've got class. - It's Saturday.
* When we rise *
Merde! What is it?
Asshole, turn off the fucking thing!
- * That's the time * - * That's the time *
* I love the best *
* Blue is the color of the sky *
* In the morning, when we rise *
- * That's the time * - * That's the time *
* I love the best... *
* Mellow is the feeling that I get *
* When I see her, hm-mmm *
* When I see her, oh, yeah *
- * That's the time * - * That's the time *
* I love the best *
* Freedom is a word I rarely use *
* Without thinking, oh, yeah *
* Without thinking, hm-mmm *
- * Of the time * - * Of the time *
* When I've been loved *
* Yellow is the color of my true love's hair *
* In the morning *
- * When we rise *
* In the morning, when we rise *
- * That's the time * - * That's the time *
* I love the best. *
- Hi. - Hey.
Are you here for that class?
The tutorial on the Post-Modern Condition?
- Yeah. - It was canceled.
Typical.
I've never seen you there before.
That's what's so typical.
It's the first time I ever bothered to show up for it.
Yeah, you've got bad timing.
Saturdays suck ass.
I don't have to put up with this shit.
I'm dropping this fucking class.
- Yeah, me too. - Really?
Mm-hmm. I think I'm gonna change my major.
- To what? - I don't know yet.
- What's yours? - I don't even know.
Your name's Sean Bateman, right?
Right. Your name is Lauren.
Yeah. I bought pot from you last year.
It was good. A little seedy though.
You used to go out with that Paul Denton dude, right?
Yeah.
Before.
Show me your eyes.
*...Feeling that I get *
* When I see her, hm-mmm *
* When I see her, oh, yeah *
- * That's the time * - Rock and roll.
- * That's the time * - * That's the time *
- * I love the best *
Maybe I'll see you at the next pre-Saturday-party party.
Or something.
* Freedom is a word I rarely use *
* Without thinking, oh, yeah *
* Without thinking, mm-hmm *
- * Of the time * - * Of the time *
* When I've been loved. *
Oh my God. Harry tried to kill himself.
Paul's voice: That is so typical.
I just knew something like this was going to happen.
I just had a feeling that there would be some obstacle,
major or minor, that was going to prevent
my evening with Sean from happening.
You've got to come to Fel's house-- he's there.
Shit, Jesus, Paul. We've got to do something.
That's way too gay.
Um... call security?
Trust me, they'll be there within an hour.
Security. Security?
What do you need, a formal fucking invitation?
I have an appointment at 7:00, Raymond!
You are killing Harry! Pull it together!
Mach schnell!
What did he do, try to OD on Sudafed and wine coolers?
Oh, my God. I brought Paul.
- What did he take? - I don't know.
Oh, Harry, sweetie, are you okay?
He's going to get death of cold.
I think we should take him to Dunham Hospital.
That's all the way in fucking Keene! Are you crazy?
- Where else is there, asshole? - I have to meet someone at 7:00.
Fuck your meeting! Get the car, Raymond!
Grab his feet! Jesus!
Jesus, this is so typical.
He found out he was adopted today.
Could we stop at a Circle K and get some cigarettes?
I remind you we have somebody OD'ing back here.
He's not OD'ing.
He's a freshman. Freshman don't OD.
Fuck you, Paul! Oh shit, he's throwing up!
- Open the fucking window! - He's not throwing up.
Then what do you call that "ccchhh" sound, huh?
Dry heaves. He's forgetting to breathe
and he has a lot of air in his stomach.
Maybe you should be inducing vomiting.
Should I just pull the car over?!
- Can I change the CD? - Shut up, Paul!
You're going to be okay.
* Blue-eyed dressed for every situation *
* Moving through the doorway of the nation-- *
- Come on, grab his arm. - Oh, God.
Okay, you're gonna make it.
Both: Help!
- Help! - We need some help over here.
- Please! This guy's OD'ing! - Oh my God.
Will you get him into the Emergency Room?
- Thank God. - I'm on my break.
I there anyone else around here, please?!
- Hello? - Please take care of Harry.
Please, you've got to take care of him!
- Move, move! - Oh, God. Oh, God.
Sir, can I speak to your manager, please?
Will you get him up. His name's Harry, please!
- What's his name? - Harry.
- Harry, Harry.
I'm not getting any pulse.
Is this a joke?
I can see him moving. He's not dead.
- I can see him breathing. - He's dead, Paul, shut up!
And how did this happen, exactly?
- Oh God, I don't know! - Oh God, oh God!
Will you shut up? He's not dead.
He hasn't got a pulse. There's no heartbeat.
His pupils are fixed and dilated.
Harry, please come back.
Sorry, there's nothing more I can do here.
You have to do something.
I've seen this on ER. Please fix him!
Harry's gone bye-bye. Harry's gone to the big bye-bye.
He's got his name in the papers on the back side.
It's "'toe-tag time' in Teenville" tonight. Again.
- What? - Teenville?
You should've just said no, Harry.
- I'm not dead, am I? - Ahh!
Yes, you are! Shut up!
Actually, you don't have a pulse. I think you're dead.
If you let me run a few tests, I could probably prove it.
- You've got a malpractice suit! - Harry is dead.
You don't know what you're talking about!
Harry: Seriously, am I dead?
A few tests on Harry, I'm sure I could prove he's dead.
No! Pain and suffering!
I must insist you bring back your friend's corpse
for me to do some tests.
Is your ultimate deterrent to a Friday night party working?
Sort of.
The best would be Victor though.
Okay, enough fantasizing. Victor is 3000 miles away.
Use the book.
Okay, how do I look?
You look kinda skinny, actually.
Skinny? Really?
Bulimic skinny or anorexic skinny?
What's the difference?
Bulimic skinny passes for healthy,
except your teeth rot, but my teeth aren't rotting, so...
So you look bulimic skinny?
Lauren, I'm telling you,
it's amazing the weight you lose when you get off the pill.
Yeah, until the 50 pounds you gain when you get knocked up.
Okay, well, do the math.
If a condom is 98% safe, and he wears two,
then you're 196% safe.
That is a much better percentage than the pill can offer.
I don't think it works that way, Lara.
Abstinence is 1 00% safe, which is less of a percentage than--
Whatever, I don't care. I don't major in math.
- So are you coming or not? - I don't know.
Lauren, listen to your friend and roommate.
If you spend the rest of your life
waiting for Victor, you're never gonna lose your virginity.
You can't just wait for destiny to play itself out.
You have to make it happen.
Is she coming tonight?
- I doubt it. - Why?
- She's been looking at the book. - What book?
It's this big medical book she's got of venereal diseases.
Before a party, she looks through it to discourage herself
from hooking up with people like you.
It's got some pretty nasty imagery.
And it helps her keep her focused on her homework.
- So, she's not coming, then? - Nope.
So, you want to get me another beer?
Hey, Sean. Sorry I'm late.
What?
There was this whole thing-- I had to take this freshman
to the hospital and there was this sick kid and, anyhow, I'm--
What the fuck are you talking about?
- I'm here. - Never mind.
- I'll make it up to you. - You don't have to.
I know I don't have to, but I want to.
- I insist. - Whatever.
Really.
I have some pot in my room
if you want to smoke and get stoned.
- You have pot? - In my room, yeah.
- Want a beer? - Let's go.
Hey, Lauren, this is...
- Jim. - Jim, from Dartmouth.
- Hi. - Brewski for you-ski?
- Sure. - Hey, you want it you got it.
He thinks this is the "Dress to Get Screwed" party.
If you want him, I'll give him to ya.
No, that's okay.
You sure? 'Cause I don't see Victor around.
What about Sean Bateman? Have you seen him around?
Yeah, actually, Sean Bateman just ran off with Paul.
- Paul Denton? - Uh-huh.
- Are you serious? - Yeah.
You don't think... no.
- I don't know. - No.
He must just be selling him something.
- Must be. - Must be.
Yeah.
Okay, so what is this? Are you out on the prowl again?
Yeah, that book's just not-- it's not doing it.
- No? - Huh-uh.
Good. Okay, well, just don't wait up for me, okay?
- Okay. - Okay.
Okay.
Miss Lauren Hynde.
Why weren't you at my tutorial last Saturday?
Would you like a drink?
Come here.
- Mmm? - Mm-hmm.
- Yeah.
- Do you want a turn-on? - No thanks.
Well...
don't mind if I do.
Are we going to do it here on the couch?
Do what?
You know, do it.
What?
Fuck?
Oh, are you mad?
I would lose my tenure.
And I'm a married man.
But aren't you hitting on me?
Well, for a hummer, sure.
I've heard you're talented, Miss Hynde.
And it certainly can't hurt your GPA.
So, shall we?
So where did you spend last summer?
- Berlin. - Paul: Sprechen sie Deutsch?
What?
- Do you speak German? - No.
- What the f--? - You don't?
No. Why?
Well, I don't know.
I just assumed, since you spent the summer in Berlin--
I thought maybe you--
No. Berlin, New Hampshire.
Sean's voice: I need to get some more pot.
I'm running out.
And I need to get laid.
Where the fuck was Lauren tonight?
Lara's kind of hot. I could bang her and feel good about it.
I'd rather have Lauren.
I wonder why.
It would just ruin my illusion of her innocence,
her purity.
Whoa!
Is that really what I want?
I need to fuck someone.
Then I need to get more pot.
Paul's voice: I watched him with growing intensity
as he refilled the pipe in the dark and smoky din of the room.
He delicately fingered what looked like dried moss to me,
and it struck me then that I liked Sean
because he looked slutty, a boy who'd been around.
A boy who couldn't remember if he was Catholic or not.
* Whooo... *
* I don't know what color your eyes are, baby *
* But your hair is long and brown *
* Your legs are strong and so, so long *
* And you don't come from this town *
* My head is full of magic, baby *
* And I have to share this with you *
* I feel I'm on top again, baby *
* That's got everything to do with you *
* I'm alive *
* So alive. *
Woman on TV: Suck it harder!
Look at that chick's cans.
- Implants. - I like the feel of fake tits.
- I need to get cable in my room. - Hello?
Hi, Mom.
- What's going on?
Sean: You are one dirty bitch!
Paul: Tomorrow? The Jareds are coming?
Oh.
Does it have to be this weekend? I have a lot of schoolwork.
- How about next weekend? - Faggoty sitcom,
- faggoty sitcom... - Paul: Richard?
Okay.
Yeah, you too.
I have to go into the city tomorrow night.
Rock and roll.
- You want to go? - Nope.
"Dressed to Get Screwed Party" is tomorrow night.
I know, and I don't want to leave you here alone.
Deal with it. I'm borrowing these.
Wait.
Would you give me a ride to the bus station tomorrow?
Whatever. Look, I have to meet my advisor.
Paul's voice: I shouldn't be leaving.
He'll sleep with someone else. It's the "Dressed to Get Screwed Party."
What the fuck am I doing?
I love you, Sean Bateman.
Sean's voice: I wonder if Lauren goes wild during sex.
I wonder if she comes easily.
Or at all. I won't go to bed with a girl who doesn't.
If I can't make a girl come, why bother?
It would be like asking questions in a letter.
Mmmm...
I'm hungry.
Sean's voice: "Tonight's the night. Tonight's the night.
Tonight's the night.
Tonight's the night."
So, tonight's the night?
- I'm going all the way. - Who's the lucky boy?
- I'm not telling. - You will if you want the room.
Okay, okay...
- Sean Bateman. - He's a drug dealer.
- He made me "zzshing"! - "Zzshing"?
"Zzshing" like you just know that you'll be with that person
and something amazing will happen,
Iike he just fucking fucks you right up the--
"Zzshing."
- No, I've never heard that. - You will someday.
You know, you might be afflicted with synesthesia.
What?
It's a clinical disorder which causes you
to hear what you see and see what you hear--
an uncontrolled combination of your senses.
You should really get that checked out.
- Prozac might help. - What?
Aaah!
Oooh...
Rusty pipes.
* And the thought of rubbing feet is getting so exciting *
* Skyrocket in flight *
* Afternoon delight. *
Hello?
Can I talk to Sean Bateman? I think he lives upstairs.
Yeah?
Sean.
Who is this, Patrick?
Who the hell is Patrick? No, it's is Paul.
Paul...?
Yeah, remember me?
Sean: No. This better be good.
I was just wondering what was going on. Who's Patrick?
It's none of your business, what do you want?
Paul: Were you asleep?
- No, of course not. - What are you doing?
That's none of your fucking business.
I'm getting ready to go to this party.
With who? With Patrick?
No.
With the person who's leaving notes in my box.
- Are you? - Deal with it.
- Are you just fucking with me? - Rock and roll.
- Motherfucker!
Who?
Oh, Jesus Christ, Richard, is that you?
It's Dick. And yes, it's me.
What the hell are you doing?
Getting fucked up.
Maybe getting fucked.
- Oh, Richard.
All right, Richard--
Oh, yeah, you're just turning me on, Richard.
Richard: Ride 'em cowboy!
Paul--!
You remember Mrs. Jared?
Of course. Hello, Mrs. Jared.
I leave you alone for five minutes and you're drinking.
Drunk. I'm drunk.
Mrs. Jared: Then take a shower and sober up.
Oh, my tortures never end. How are you, Paul?
Fine.
Would you talk to him? He'll listen to you.
Come on, Myra.
I'll see you both downstairs in 1 5 minutes, hmm?
You want to take a shower with me...
for old times' sake?
- Want one? - What are they?
- Does it matter? - No.
* Oh well, I guess it would be nice *
* If I could touch your body *
* I know not everybody *
* Has got a body like you *
* But I've gotta think twice *
* Before I give my heart away *
* And I know all the games you play *
* Because I play them too... *
Fine with me.
So when she showed up...
* Oh baby, I reconsider *
* My foolish notion *
* Well, I need someone to hold me *
* But I wait for something more *
* Yes, I gotta have faith *
* I gotta have faith *
* 'Cause I gotta have faith, faith, faith, *
* I gotta have faith, faith, faith... *
Oh, yeah.
* Got to, got to have faith *
* Before this river, becomes an ocean *
* Before you throw my heart back on the floor *
* Oh baby, I reconsider *
* My foolish notion *
* Well, I need someone to hold me *
* But I'll wait for something more *
* 'Cause I gotta have faith *
* Ooh, I gotta have faith *
* 'Cause I gotta have faith, faith, faith, *
* I gotta have faith, faith faith. *
Mrs. Denton: Then I realized my Cadillac had been stolen.
Mrs. Jared: Oh, my God.
Mrs. Denton: Stolen. The police couldn't have cared less.
They said my insurance would take care of it.
Frankly, I was getting sick of the color, you know?
Mrs. Jared: I'm going to ask one more time, Richard,
kindly remove your sunglasses.
Very well, then...
why don't you tell us about school?
Tell us about school.
- Ciggy. - Oh, Ri-- don't smoke.
You're not allowed to smoke here, Richard...
-...I don't think-- - My name is not Richard.
- Then what is it? - Dick.
- What? - Dick.
You heard me. Dick.
No. Your name is Richard.
Sorry, it's Dick.
Well, then-- Dick, how is school?
It sucks cock.
Yeah, it does.
And what classes are you taking-- Dick?
"Gang Bang 1 01,"
"Freebase Tutorial"...
and "Oral Sex Workshop."
Well, then, how are you liking that, Dick?
Yeah.
"How do you like that?"
What has happened to you?
What do you mean, what has happened to me?
What do you think?
I can see what that school has done to you.
Maybe perhaps Paul and I should go upstairs--
- Mrs. Jared: No. - Mrs. Denton: No?
No. If anyone is going to leave this table,
- it's going to be Richard. - It's Dick!
Leave the table now, Richard.
Why? Why?
I'm asking you to leave the table, now.
No, no, no...
I will not leave the table. No!
Leave the table!
Well, fuck you-ooo!
And fuck you. And fuck you, pretty boy.
And fuck you all very much.
I'm outta here.
Have a good one!
Mrs. Jared: Oh, everything's fine now.
No, really. I'm terribly sorry.
- Man: Are you sure, ma'am? - Oh, positive. Yes.
- My son isn't well. - Yeah.
He's-- well, not well.
He's been under a lot of stress, midterms starting...
School. Yes, of course.
I would like another Vodka Collins.
Eve, would you like anything?
Yes-- well, I mean, no, no.
Go ahead.
Get her another one.
- Please. - Thank you, Paul.
Sure, Mom.
You know,
I think my next car
is going to be blue.
Blue, don't you think? A very dark blue.
What do you think, Paul?
Blue.
* Baby girl, where you at? *
* Got no strings, got men attached *
* Can't stop that feeling for long, no *
* You making dogs wanna beg *
* Breaking them off your fancy legs *
* But they make you feel right at home, now *
* See all these illusions just take us too long *
* And I want it bad *
* Because you walk pretty, because you talk pretty *
* 'Cause you make me sick and I'm not leaving *
* Till you're leaving oh, I swear there's something
* When she's pumping asking for a raise... *
Those are grown in shit.
* So does she want me to buy her things? *
* On my house, on my job on my loot, shoes *
* My shirt, my crew, my mind my father's last name? *
* When I get you alone... *
Thank God you're still dealing.
So where's Lauren?
She's out of town.
Do you have a thing for her?
She won't put out. You know that, right?
She's got this little boyfriend who she's saving herself for.
You're just wasting your time and money.
She's got a boyfriend?
* All these intrusions just take us too long *
* And I want you so bad *
* Because you walk city, because you talk city *
* 'Cause you make me sick... *
Yes, yes, yes.
Yes, yes, oh, oh, oh--!
Hi, Sean.
Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop.
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon...
Sean's voice: Disillusionment strikes.
After all my pining for Lauren,
this-- her roommate.
The inevitable conclusion.
It's like bad poetry-- and then what?
I'm still hard, so I keep on going.
She's groaning now. Humping up, down, up.
Is it ever going to end?
I should never have done this.
I should have kept it innocent.
God, oh yes.
I put my hand over her mouth.
She comes, licking my palms, snorting.
It's over.
Kleenex.
What's wrong? I told you I came.
I was born in a Holiday Inn.
Sean: Better it's not Lauren. Note to self:
never 'shroom again. Only gets you into trouble.
Woman: I've written you this last letter
because I know I'll never have you.
I stood in a corner and watched you go off with her.
She's so beneath you.
You probably did it just to hurt me.
Well, it worked. You hurt me,
and now there's nothing else I can do.
There won't be any more notes. It's last call.
* No, I can't forget this evening *
* Or your face as you were leaving *
* But I guess that's just the way the story goes *
* You always smile but in your eyes *
* Your sorrow shows *
* Yes, it shows *
* No, I can't forget tomorrow *
* When I think of all my sorrow *
* When I had you there *
* But then I let you go *
* And now it's only fair *
* That I should let you know *
* What you should know... *
* Know... *
* I can't live *
* If living is without you *
* I can't live *
* I can't give anymore *
* I can't live *
* If living is without you *
* I can't give *
* I can't give anymore *
* Well, I can't forget this evening *
* Or your face as you were leaving *
* But I guess that's just the way the story goes *
* You always smile but in your eyes *
* Your sorrow shows *
* Yes, it shows... *
I only did it with her because I'm in love with you.
Lauren, I love you.
Laur--
- Lauren--! - Leave, Sean!
Since when does fucking somebody else
mean that I'm not faithful to you?
Lauren...
She's not ever going to want see you again.
Lara: Face it...
you fucked up.
- Hello? - Frenchman: Hello?
Hello?
- Hello, Bertrand? - Bertrand's not in.
Is it Jean-Jacques? Hello?
Lauren...
Fuck! Fuck!
Come on.
Woman announcer: Results are evident in a few short weeks.
Male announcer: Call and order your bottle of "Longitude"
having your credit card ready and calling 1-800-51 8-3492.
That's 1-800-51 8-3492.
Imagine the look on her face if you were much larger.
Call now-- 1-800-51 8-3492.
Or visit them online at LongitudeCapsules.com.
- Typical. - Radio: * WTNA-- *
* Tom and Andy-- More music. *
* Could be wrong *
* I could be right *
* Could be wrong... *
* I could be wrong I could be right... *
Sean...?
* May the road rise with you *
* May the road rise with you... *
Gotcha.
You're so sad.
Sean, you're sick.
Hey... wait a minute.
Yeah.
* I could be wrong I could be right *
* I could be black I could be white... *
Victor: Took a charter flight on a DC-1 0 to London,
Ianded at Heathrow. Took a cab to the city center.
Don't let people lie to you, hostels are for the ugly.
I'm staying at Home House, the most beautiful hotel.
Called a friend from school who was selling hash,
but she wasn't in. Met a couple of Brits
who take me to of all places, Camden Street.
I flirt a bit at the Virgin Megastore, buy some CDs,
then follow some girls with pink hair.
I wandered around trying to get laid until it started to rain,
then went back to Home House. "Ministry of Sound" is dead,
so I go to "Rem Forum," but it's "Gay Night."
I find one hetero girl and we dry-hump on the dance floor.
We cab it back to Home House, I strip her clothes off
suck her toes and we fuck. Hung out for four or five days,
met the world's biggest DJ, Paul Oakenfold.
Kept missing the Changing of the Guards.
Wrote my mom a postcard I never sent, bought speed
from an Italian junkie trying to sell me a stolen bike.
Smoked a lot of hash that had too much tobacco in it.
Saw the Tate. Saw Big Ben.
Ate a lot of weird English food. It rained a lot.
It was expensive and I'm jonesing-- split for Amsterdam.
The Dutch all know English so I didn't have to speak Dutch,
which was a relief. I cruise the red light district,
visit a sex show, visit a sex museum,
smoke a lot of hash. I meet a Dutch TV actress
and we drink absinthe at a bar called "Absinthe."
The museums were cool. Lots of Van Goghs
and the Vermeers were intense. Wandered around,
bought a lot of pastries, ate some intense waffles.
Bought some coke and I cruised the red light district
I found some blonde with big tits that reminds me of Lara.
I gave her 1 00 guilders. In the end, she pulls me out,
I come between her tits even though I'm wearing a rubber.
We made small talk about AIDS, her Moroccan pimp and herself.
I wake to the sound of a wino singing.
It's 8:00 a.m. and hot as blazes.
I pretend to ice-skate around Central Station.
Trade songs with a Kiwi girl, then split for Paris
Wandered the Champs-Elysées, climbed the Eiffel Tower
for only seven francs-- the ticket machine was broken.
Got the hang of the Metro, took it everywhere.
Ford model party, hooked up with a model named Karina.
She chugs my cock at the Marriott, which is good.
Played billiards, went shopping I think she gave me mono.
Drove a Ferrari that belonged to the Saudi royal family.
Made out with a Dutch model in front of the Louvre.
Saw the Arc de Triomphe-- almost became road kill.
"Oakie" invites me to Dublin, I catch an Aer Lingus flight,
stay at the Morrison-- Dublin rocks like you can't imagine.
Oakenfold lets me spin some discs with him.
Irish girls are small as leprechauns.
I swap hickeys with a drunk woman after groping my abs
and calling me "Mr. LA." She strips for me
in the bathroom of the club. Sneak into the Guinness factory
and steal some stout so good my dick goes hard.
I fly to Barcelona which is a bust.
Too many fat American students, too many lame meat markets.
I dropped acid at the Sagrada Familia,
which was a trip, to say the least.
Cruise up the coast to Museo Gala Dali,
but had no more acid, which sucked.
Some girl from Canada calls me on my cell,
so I let her listen to the church bells.
Canta Cruz is beautiful but there are no girls there,
just old hippies. So I went to Switzerland
where, ironically, I couldn't find anyone with the time.
Took Glacier Express to Shiltone
which is beautiful in a way I can't describe.
EuroPass into Italy, ended up in Venice,
met a hot girl who looks like Rachel Leigh Cook,
and speaks better English than I do.
She's living for a year on only $5.00 a day.
We gondola around, buy hash. She thinks I'm a capitalist--
my room costs more for one night than her entire trip.
She doesn't mind much when I pay the bills. I ditch her
and hook up with a couple who obviously want a threesome.
Much tension, but the doofus offers to drive me to Rome,
an offer I jump at. Traffic's bad, we're stopped for hours.
The wife's a freak. The guy wigs out on me.
It's like a Polanski film. We stop in Florence,
where I see some big dome. A bomb goes off
I lose the weird couple, which is probably for the best.
Ended up in Rome, which is big and hot and dirty.
Just like LA, but with ruins. I went to the Vatican,
which is ridiculously opulent. Stood for two hours
to get into the Sistine Chapel, which now cleaned, looks fake.
I meet two underage Italian girls who I try to talk
into fucking each other while I jack off onto them.
Bored, I buy them some ice cream instead.
My hotel has a gym, so I work out.
I bump into some guy from Camden who says he knows me,
but I'm sure that he's a fag, so I lose him.
I try to fart and instead shit my pants.
In my room I masturbate and have a pain in my groin.
I dream about a beautiful girl, half in water,
stretching her lean body. She asks me if I like it.
I tell her she can clean fish with it.
I don't know what it means, but I wake well-rested,
masturbate in the shower, and check out.
Make my way back to London, hang out in Piccadilly Circus.
Swap shirts with some upper-crusty Cambridge chick.
Hers was an Agnes B.; mine, it cost me my Chanel.
She acts stuffy and prudish, but is really wild underneath.
She barely looks at my abs, though she wants to.
The next day I drop acid and get lost in the subway
for a full day and can't find my way out.
I meet a cute girl that lets me jack off onto her
as long as no come gets onto her Paul Smith coat.
We get stoned while listening to Michael Jackson records.
The next morning, I wake up talking to myself.
I had a big bump on my head from flailing in my sleep.
I get my stuff and barely make my plane
back to the United States. I no longer know who I am
and I feel like the ghost of a total stranger.
So then I ended up back here.
I'm so there when school's out, you don't even know.
No, I do know. And you don't know until you do know.
And you have to go there to know.
You still fucking that girl from Hawaii-- Page?
Oh, no, man. I gave up on that shit.
She had issues. I moved on to this chick named Candice.
- Yeah? - She's great.
Did you fuck like a racehorse?
You know it, brother.
- I met a girl. - Did you score some hot poon?
It's not about that.
No...
it's about good times and cuddling up.
She's a fag hag, right?
It's cool because they're fun and they like to dance.
I tell you, Victor,
I think I'm in love with this girl.
She's sweet. She's pure.
She's innocent.
She's a virgin.
Mitch: How young is she?
"Out of the car seat, onto my meat."
"If she's bleeding, I'm breeding."
"If there's grass on the field, play ball," you know?
Mitch: "Old enough to pee, old enough for me."
Yeah.
- Ow! - Bateman.
Bateman. Come on. What's up, man?
Got any "Toot-ankhamen"?
Sean: How much you want?
Three grams.
300. Up front.
I don't fucking trust you.
Tough shit.
Take Mitchell with you, then.
We take your car, and I drive.
- Go with him, bitch. - Fucker. Ow! Shit!
I want change. Bring Daddy back change.
* 1 000 times... *
Mitch: Would you keep your eyes on the road?
Bitchen ride. You pick the color?
Yeah, and I don't want you to crash it.
I didn't realize it came in "banana."
- Relax. - Mitch: Oh, right. Relax.
While my car is being used to run a drug deal,
I'll just sit back and relax.
I don't give a fuck if we do this deal or not,
but you do. Your girlfriend needs her nose candy.
Without nose candy, she won't fuck you, and you know it.
I have my terms, if you don't live up to them,
you get no pussy. So deal with it.
Looks kind of dark. Maybe nobody's home.
Rupert doesn't leave home.
- I'm gonna wait in the car. - It's okay. Rupert's cool.
- But I don't want to go in. - Just come in.
Let's get this over with.
Who dat?
"Blouse and skirt." Sean, are you dat, man?
Just the man we're looking to see tonight.
Come in out the cold, mon.
Sean, Sean, Sean, what, bubba?
You college boys look nice and sweet and sexy.
Come, mon. Rupert's in the kitchen.
Rupert, extra chicken in the coop.
Sean. Who's your friend?
This is Mitch.
Mitch.
- Hi. - You a cop, Mitch?
- No. - Does he look like a cop?
How the fuck am I supposed to know?
Unless he's got a crack pipe stuck to his lip,
I gotta assume he's fucking "21 Jump Street."
I'm not "21 Jump Street," whatever that is.
Where Richard Grieco and Johnny Depp got their start.
Come on. Where you been?
You can bet the boy is not a cop. Look upon him.
Obviously.
- What can I do you boys for? - Came to pick up some stuff.
- Did you now?
Where's my money, God damn it, Bateman?
Don't act crazy, man. Me and my buddy Mitch
just came by to pick up a couple of grams.
What the fuck's this?
$300?
You owe me $3,000, asshole. Where's my fucking money?
Hey, wait a minute. Wait.
I'm gonna wait in the car. Excuse me.
Wait.
Wait for what, asshole? You owe me some fucking money!
Listen...
...he's got it.
I don't know what the hell is going on.
I just-- I came here for some blow, man.
Come on, Mitchell, give Rupert his money.
What the fuck are you talking about?
- Give Rupert his money! - I'm gonna go wait in the car.
Hey, boy! Don't better fuck with us.
This is absolute shit!
I don't even know what you're talking about.
Wait! This guy!
- Do you really have it? - I don't-- this guy-- I--
You owe me some fucking money!
- Would you fucking tell him?! - Okay.
He doesn't have it.
What do you got for me?
I know you got something. What do you got for me?
I have this.
Sean: Back off! Back the fuck off!
Let me in! Let me in, I have the keys!
I have the keys. Fucking let me in.
Fuck!
Are you fucking crazy?
Define "crazy."
Whoo!
- Wasn't that fun? - Fuck you.
You're a fucking asshole.
Why don't you do something about it?
Fuck you! Get out of my fucking car!
- Take a swing, man. - Give me my keys.
Come on. I know you want to.
- Fuck you. - Fucking pussy.
Get out of my fucking car.
Get out of my fucking car, you piece of shit.
Get out! Get out of my car!
Fucking asshole!
Mitchell, you're a pussy.
Asshole!
Fucking spit in my car.
Fuck.
* Hey there, "Mr. Talk Too Much" *
* What's in store for us now? *
* I don't know how to speak to you *
* I don't know how to trust in you... *
- What?!
- I have good news. - What?
Victor's back from Europe.
Really...?
Really? Shit.
Sean: Lauren. Wait.
Don't. Hey-- wait, Lauren.
- Oh my God. - Can't we talk?
No!
Lauren.
Don't walk-- hey!
I really did try to kill myself.
Just before I faked it.
- Wow. Sean, it's over. - No, it's not.
Yeah, it is. I'm in love with somebody else.
- Who? - My old boyfriend Victor.
And that's none of your fucking business, actually.
- Fucking Victor? - Yeah.
Then why the fuck are you writing me letters?
Wow.
Deal with it, Sean. It's over. Rock and roll.
Lauren, I want to know you.
What does that mean, "know me"? "Know me."
Nobody knows anyone else, ever!
You will never, ever know me.
Holy shit.
Ahem--
You do not know what a drag it is to see you right now.
Look--
yeah--
You smell really good
but I don't know who you are.
Victor, shut up. It's me.
Oh, of course. How are... you?
How long have you been here? Why haven't you called?
I...
This is embarrassing. I'm sorry--
It's all right.
I don't have the slightest idea who you are right now.
Really, it's... it's totally blank.
- Yeah, it is. - Should I know you?
It's great seeing you, really.
Hey, man.
Looks like it's gonna be a cold one.
You know...
I find myself talking to you when you're not even around--
just carrying on conversations.
I wish you wouldn't tell me shit like that.
But, Sean, I don't--
You've got the wrong idea. I don't want to be with you.
What do you mean? No, I just--
want to know you. Just want to know who you are.
Sean: No one will ever know anyone.
You're not ever gonna know me.
What the hell does that mean?
It means, Paul,
you're not ever gonna know me.
Figure it out. Deal with it.
Fuck you, Bateman.
Fuck you, Bateman!
Fuck you!
Fuck... you!
Welcome to "Buford T. Pusser County."
You wanna fuck with me? You wanna fuck with me?
I'll show you fucking!
You hear what Guest said, motherfucker?
I have your money, my brother wired it into my account.
You got the money? It was that easy, motherfucker?
Fuck you, motherfucker.
How goddamn funny you think this is?
How are you, Miss Hynde?
Okay.
How have you been...
Mr. Denton?
Okay.
He really likes you.
That's great.
Listen-- were you putting notes in his box?
Whose box?
I thought you were putting notes in his box.
Purple ones? Love letters?
No, I didn't put notes into anybody's box.
You didn't?
Wrong person.
Wasn't me.
- Then there's someone else. - Doesn't matter anyway.
Not to people like him.
Not to people like us.
Sean: I started driving faster as I left the college behind.
Someplace unoccupied, I hoped.
At first I thought there were things about her
that I would never forget, but in the end,
all I could think about was--
* We'll be together again *
* I've been waiting for a long time *
* We're gonna be, we're gonna be together again *
* I've been connected to the right line *
* We'll be together and nobody ain't never *
* Gonna disconnect us or ever separate us *
* Or say to us you've got to... stop! *
* Stand there where you are, before you go too far *
* Before you make a fool out of love-- stop! *
* Don't jump before you look, get hung upon a hook *
* Before you make a fool out of love *
* We'll be together again *
* I've been waiting for a long time *
* We're gonna be, we're gonna be together again *
* I've been connected to the right line *
* We'll be together and nobody ain't never *
* Gonna disconnect us or ever separate us *
* Or say to us you've got to... stop! *
* Stand there where you are, before you go too far *
* Before you make a fool out of love-- stop! *
* Don't jump before you look, get hung upon a hook *
* Before you make a fool out of love *
* We'll be together and nobody ain't never *
* Gonna disconnect us or ever separate us *
* Or say to us you've got to... stop! *
* Stand there where you are, before you go too far *
* Before you make a fool out of love-- stop! *
* Don't jump before you look, get hung upon a hook *
* Before you make a fool out of love-- stop! *
* Stand there where you are, before you go too far *
* Before you make a fool out of love-- stop! *
* Don't jump before you look, get hung upon a hook *
* Before you make a fool out of love *
* Stop! Stand there where you are... *
* WTNA-- *
* Tom and Andy-- More music *
* You are the one, you make it happen *
* The things you do are totally planned *
* You are the one, you're so in charge now *
* You're going to make a stand, make a stand *
* The way you speak when people leave you *
* It makes them want to share your goal *
* You're not the one in every region *
* You know you're in control, in control *
* Ba-la ba-lap ba-lap ba-da-ba *
* Ba-la ba-lap-bop ba-da-ba *
* Ba-da ba-da-ba ba-da ba-ba *
* Ba-da ba-da-ba-da, ba-da-ba *
* You are the one, you make it happen *
* The things you do are totally planned *
* You are the one, you're so in charge now *
* You're going to make a stand, make a stand *
* The way you speak when people leave you... *