- And the third rule is... - Bob, Bob. I'm a member.
Look at my face, Bob.
That's fucking... fucking great.
- I've never seen you there. - I go Tuesdays and Thursdays.
- I go Saturday. - Congratulations.
Yeah, hey, to both of us, right?
Have you heard about the guy that invented it?
- Yeah, actually... - I hear all kinds of things.
Supposedly, he was born in a mental institution
and he sleeps only one hour a night.
He's a great man.
Do you know about Tyler Durden?
I didn't hurt you, did I?
Actually, you did.
Thank you for this.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Fight Club.
This was mine and Tyler's gift.
Our gift to the world.
I look around, I look around, I see a lot of new faces.
Shut up!
Which means a lot of people have been breaking the first two rules of Fight Club.
I see in Fight Club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived.
I see all this potential.
And I see it squandered.
Goddamn it, an entire generation pumping gas.
Waiting tables.
Slaves with white collars.
Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes.
Working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need.
We're the middle children of history.
No purpose or place.
We have no Great War.
No Great Depression.
Our great war is a spiritual war.
Our great depression is our lives.
We've all been raised on television to believe
that one day we'd be millionaires and movie gods and rock stars.
But we won't.
We're slowly learning that fact.
And we're very, very pissed off.
Yeah!
- First rule of Fight Club is, do not talk...
Who are you?
- Who am I? - Yeah.
There's a sign on the front that says Lou's Tavern.
I'm fucking Lou. Who the fuck are you?
Tyler Durden.
Who told you motherfuckers that you could use my place?
We have a deal worked out with Irvine.
Irvine's at home with a broken collarbone.
He don't own this place. I do.
- How much money's he getting for this? - There is no money.
- Free to all. - Ain't that something?
It is, actually.
Look, stupid fuck!
- I want everybody out of here right now. - Hey!
You should join our club.
Did you hear what I just said?
You and your friend.
You hear me now?
No, I didn't quite catch that, Lou.
Still not getting it.
OK, OK, I got it.
I got it, I got it. Shit, I lost it.
Back! All of you!
Everybody back!
Ah, Lou!
Come on, man! We really like this place.
- That's right, Lou. Get it out. - Shut the fuck up.
Oh, yeah!
Is that fucking funny?
Fucking guy is a loony, I'm telling you.
Unbelievable.
- You don't know where I've been, Lou. - Oh, my God!
You don't know where I've been!
Please let us keep it, Lou! Please, Lou!
Fucking use the basement! Christ!
I want your word, Lou! I want your word!
On my mother's eyes.
Thanks, Lou.
You too, big guy.
We'll see you next week.
This week, each one of you has a homework assignment.
You're gonna go out. You're gonna start a fight with a total stranger.
You're gonna start a fight
and you're gonna lose.
Excellent choice, sir.
Hey! Watch out, jackass! Come on!
Now, this is not as easy as it sounds.
Son of a bitch!
Most people, normal people, do just about anything to avoid a fight.
Excuse me!
You sprayed me with your hose. That's not necessary...
Jay! Go call 911!
Put the hose down.
Stop it! Stop it!
Sorry.
We need to talk.
OK.
Where to begin?
With your constant absenteeism?
With your unpresentable appearance?
You're up for review.
I am Jack's complete lack of surprise.
- What? - Let's pretend.
You're the Department of Transportation, OK?
Someone informs you that this company
installs front-seat mounting brackets that failed collision tests,
brake linings that fail after 1,000 miles,
and fuel injectors that explode and burn people alive.
What then?
Are you threatening me?
- No... - Get the fuck out of here. You're fired!
I have a better solution. Keep me on the payroll as an outside consultant.
In exchange for my salary,
my job will be never to tell people these things that I know.
I don't even have to come into the office. I can do this job from home.
Who... Who the fuck do you think you are, you crazy little shit?
- Security! - I am Jack's smirking revenge.
What the hell are you doing?
That hurt.
Why would you do that?
Oh, my God! No! Please stop!
What are you doing?
Oh, God, no! Please! No!
For some reason, I thought of my first fight, with Tyler.
No!
Under and behind and inside everything this man took for granted,
something horrible had been growing.
Look.
Give me the paychecks, like I asked, and you won't ever see me again.
Then, at our most excellent moment together...
Thank God! Please don't hit me again.
Telephone, computer,
fax machine, 52 weekly paychecks and 48 airline flight coupons.
We now had corporate sponsorship.
This is how Tyler and I were able to have Fight Club every night of the week.
Now, the centre of Fight Club became the two men fighting.
The leader walked through the crowd, out in the darkness.
Tyler was now involved in a lawsuit with the Pressman Hotel
over the urine content of their soup.
I am Jack's wasted life.
Thank you, sir.
Tyler dreamed up new homework assignments.
He handed them out in sealed envelopes.
- There's a Fight Club up in Delaware City. - Yeah, I heard.
There's one in Penns Grove too.
Bob even found one up in New Castle.
- Did you start that one? - No, I thought you did.
No.
- Stop for a second. - Hey, what are we doing?
- Turn around. - What are we doing?
- Homework assignment. - What kind?
Human sacrifice.
- Is that a gun? Please tell me it's not. - It's a gun.
- What are you doing? - Meet me in the back.
- Don't fuck around! - Meet me in the back.
On a long enough time line,
the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.
What are you doing? Come on!
Hands behind your back. Give me your wallet.
Raymond K Hessel. 1320 SE Banning, Apartment A.
- Small, cramped basement apartment? - How did you know?
They give shitty apartments letters.
Raymond! You're going to die.
No!
Is that your mom and dad? They're gonna have to call the kindly doctor.
Pick up your dental records. Know why?
- There'll be nothing left of your face. - Oh, come on!
An expired community college student ID. What did you study, Raymond?
- S... S... Stuff. - Stuff?
Were the midterms hard?
- I asked you what you studied! - Biology, mostly.
- Why? - I don't know.
What did you wanna be, Raymond K Hessel?!
The question, Raymond, was what did you want to be?
Answer him, Raymond, Jesus!
- Veterinarian. Veterinarian. - Animals.
- Yeah. Animals and stuff. - Stuff. Yeah, I got that.
- So you need more schooling. - Too much school.
- Would you rather be dead? - No, please...
You'd rather die here, on your knees, in the back of a convenience store?
Please, no.
I'm keeping your licence.
Gonna check in on you. I know where you live.
If you're not working to be a veterinarian in six weeks,
you will be dead.
Now run on home.
Run, Forrest, run!
I feel ill.
Imagine how he feels.
Come on, this isn't funny!
What the fuck was the point of that?!
Tomorrow will be the most beautiful day of Raymond K Hessel's life.
His breakfast will taste better than any meal you and I have ever tasted.
You had to give it to him.
- Come on. - He had a plan.
And it started to make sense in a Tyler-sort of way.
No fear. No distractions.
The ability to let that which does not matter
truly slide.
You are not your job.
You're not how much money you have in the bank.
You're not the car you drive.
You're not the contents of your wallet.
You're not your fucking khakis.
You are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.
I'll be out of your way in a sec.
You don't have to go.
Whatever.
No, I mean... It's OK.
Are you still going to groups?
Yeah.
Chloe's dead.
Wow, Chloe.
When did that happen?
Do you care?
I dunno. I haven't thought about it in a while.
Yeah, well...
It was the smart move on her part.
Listen...
What are you getting out of all this?
What?
I mean, all this. Why do you keep...
Is this making you happy?
Yeah, well, sometimes.
I don't know. I don't understand.
Why does a weaker person need to latch on to a strong person?
What is... What is that?
What do you get out of it?
No... That's not the same thing at all.
It's totally different with us.
Us?
What do you mean by us?
- I'm sorry. Do you hear this? - Hear what?
- All that noise. Hold on. - No, wait!
Don't change the subject! I want to talk about this.
- You're not talking about me, are you? - No.
- What? - Playing doctor. What was going on there?
- What are you talking about? - Nothing. Nothing.
- I don't think so. - What do you want?
- Look at me. - No. What?
- What is that?! - It's nothing. Don't worry.
My God. Who did this?
- A person. - Guy or girl?
- What do you care? - What do you care if I ask?
- Leave me alone. - You're afraid to say.
- I am not. Let me go. - No! Talk to me.
Let go of me!
- This conversation - This conversation
- Is over. - Is over.
I just can't win with you, can I?
Hey, this is getting a little old!
What is... What is all this?
What do you think?
Hey, why do we need bunk beds?
Hey!
Too young.
Sorry.
What's all that?
If the applicant is young, tell him he's too young.
- Old, too old. Fat, too fat. - Applicant?
If the applicant waits three days without food or shelter,
he may enter and begin training.
Training for what?
You think this is a game?
You're too young to train here, end of story.
Quit wasting our time. Get the fuck out of here.
Bad news, friend.
It's not gonna happen.
Sorry if there was a misunderstanding.
It's not the end of the world.
Just... go away.
Go.
You're trespassing and I will have to call the police.
Don't you look at me!
You're never getting in this fucking house!
Never. Now get the fuck off my porch! Get off my porch!
Sooner or later, we all became what Tyler wanted us to be.
I'm gonna go inside and I'm gonna get a shovel.
- Got two black shirts? - Yes, sir.
- Two pair of black pants? - Yes, sir.
- One pair black boots? Black socks? - Yes, sir.
- One blackjacket. - Yes, sir.
- $300 personal burial money? - Yes, sir.
All right.
You're too old, fat man.
Your tits are too big. Get the fuck off my porch.
Bob! Bob!
Like a monkey ready to be shot into space.
Space monkey.
Ready to sacrifice himself for the greater good.
You are too fucking old, fatty!
And you... You're too fucking
blond!
Get out of here, the both of you!
And so it went.
Listen up, maggots.
You are not special.
You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake.
You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else.
Tyler built himself an army.
We are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.
We are all part of the same compost heap.
Why was Tyler Durden building an army?
To what purpose?
For what greater good?
In Tyler we trusted.
When he was like, "You are not your job",
I was like, "Yeah!"
Hey, what's all this?
Hey!
OK!
- What's going on? - We're celebrating.
- What are we celebrating? - Go on.
- Hey. - Let me get that for you.
The same great taste, Pepsi.
Ssh!
Investigators are here. The Police Commissioner has arrived.
Could you tell us what you think has happened here?
We believe this is one of many recent acts of vandalism in the city
somehow related to underground boxing clubs.
We will be coordinating a rigorous investigation.
That was Police Commissioner Jacobs who just arrived on the scene
- of a four-alarm fire that broke out... - She's hot.
Back to you in the studio.
- Yeah! - Yeah!
- Holy shit! - Yeah!
What the fuck did you guys do?
Arson investigators are on the premises...
Sir, the first rule of Project Mayhem is you do not ask questions, sir.
The victory in the war against crime
will not come overnight.
It will take dedication and commitment and, most of all, cooperation.
Streets are safer now. There is hope in the inner city. However...
I gotta take a piss.
These are the first steps in a long journey.
That is why we have created Project Hope.
Bob.
Project Hope will be a joint effort
between the police and community leaders.
It will be a powerful new weapon in the war against crime.
- Wrap it around the top of his Hacky Sack. - His balls are ice cold.
Hi. You're gonna call off your rigorous investigation.
You will publicly state there is no underground group or
these guys are gonna take your balls.
They'll send one to the New York Times and one to the LA Times.
Look.
The people you are after are the people you depend on.
We cook your meals. We haul your trash. We connect your calls.
We drive your ambulances. We guard you while you sleep.
Do not fuck with us.
Ball check!
Bob, you're this way.
Let's go.
I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection.
Hey!
Yeah!
I felt like putting a bullet in every panda
that wouldn't screw to save its species.
I wanted to open the dump valves on oil tankers
and smother those French beaches I'd never see.
I wanted to breathe smoke.
Where did you go, psycho boy?
I felt like destroying something beautiful.
Get him to a fucking hospital.
Yeah.
Don't worry, Mr. Durden. Airport parking. Long term.
After you, Mr. Durden.
After you.
- Something on your mind, dear? - No.
Yeah, why wasn't I told about Project Mayhem?
First rule of Project Mayhem is you do not ask questions.
Why didn't you include me in the beginning?
Fight Club was the beginning. Now it's left the basements and it's Project Mayhem.
We started Fight Club together. Remember? It's as much mine as it is yours.
- Is this about you and me? - Yeah. Weren't we doing this together?
This does not belong to us. We are not special.
Fuck that. You should have told me.
Hey, Tyler!
- Goddamn it, Tyler! - What do you want?!
A statement of purpose? Should I e-mail you?
- Oh... - You decide your level of involvement!
I will! I wanna know certain things first!
- The first rule of Project Mayhem... - Shut up!
- I wanna know what you're thinking. - Fuck what you know!
Forget about what you think you know about life, friendship,
and especially about you and me.
What is that supposed to mean?
What are you doing?
What do you wish you'd done before you died?
- Paint a self-portrait. - Build a house.
- And you? - I don't know. Nothing.
- Get in the right lane. - You have to know!
If you died now, how would you feel about your life?
I don't know! Nothing good. Is that what you want to hear?
- Come on! - Not good enough.
Stop fucking around! Tyler!
Jesus Christ!
Goddamn it! Goddamn it! Fuck you!
Fuck Fight Club. Fuck Marla!
I am sick of all your shit!
OK, man.
- Quit screwing around. Steer! - Look at you!
- Steer! - Look at you. You're fucking pathetic!
- Why? Why? What are you talking about? - Why do you think I blew up your condo?
What?
Hitting bottom isn't a weekend retreat. It's not a goddamned seminar.
Stop trying to control everything and just let go!
Let go!
All right. Fine.
Fine.
I'd never been in a car accident.
This must have been what all those people felt like
before I filed them as statistics in my reports.
Goddamn!
We've just had a near-life experience!
In the world I see,
you're stalking elk through the Grand Canyon forests
around the ruins of Rockefeller Center.
You'll wear leather clothes that will last you the rest of your life.
You'll climb the thick kudzu vines that wrap the Sears Tower.
And when you look down, you'll see tiny figures pounding corn,
laying strips of venison in the empty car-pool lane
of some abandoned superhighway.
Feel better, champ.
And then...
Tyler?
.. Tyler was gone.
Was I asleep?
Had I slept?
You are not a beautiful, unique snowflake...
The house had become a living thing.
Wet inside from so many people sweating and breathing.
So many people moving, the house moved.
Planet Tyler.
I had to hug the walls.
Trapped inside this clockwork of space monkeys.
You shouldn't be smoking in here! You know how much ether is here!
Cooking and working and sleeping in teams.
Hang on a second.
It's under control, sir.
Where's Tyler?
Sir, the first rule of Project Mayhem is you do not...
Right... OK.
I'm all alone.
My father dumped me. Tyler dumped me.
I am Jack's broken heart.
What comes next in Project Mayhem only Tyler knows.
The second rule is you do not ask questions.
Get the fuck away from me! Get the fuck away!
Who are all these people?
The Paper Street Soap Company.
Can I come in?
He's not here.
What?
Tyler isn't here.
Tyler went away.
Tyler's gone.
Get some help!
Two gunshot wounds coming through! Make some fucking room!
What happened? What happened?
We were on assignment. We were supposed to kill two birds with one stone.
Destroy a piece of corporate art...
Operation Latte Thunder. Go!
...and trash a franchise coffee bar.
We had it all worked out, sir.
- It went smooth until... - Police! Freeze!
- What? - They shot Bob.
- They shot him in the head. - Fucking pigs!
Oh, God!
- Those motherfuckers! - You morons.
You're running around in ski masks trying to blow things up?
What did you think was gonna happen?!
OK, quick! Get rid of the evidence. We gotta get rid of this body!
- Bury him. - What?
Take him to the garden and bury him.
- Come on, people, let's go! - Get the fuck off!
Get away from him! What are you talking about?
This isn't fucking evidence. This is a person.
He's my friend and you're not burying him in the garden!
He was killed serving Project Mayhem, sir.
- This is Bob. - Sir, in...
In Project Mayhem, we have no names.
Now, you listen to me.
This is a man and he has a name, and it's Robert Paulsen, OK?
- Robert Paulsen. - He's a man
and he's dead now because of us. Do you understand that?
I understand.
In death, a member of Project Mayhem
has a name.
His name is Robert Paulsen.
His name... is Robert Paulsen.
His name is Robert Paulsen.
Come on, guys. Please. Stop it.
His name is Robert Paulsen.
Shut up! This is all over with!
Get the fuck out of here.
- Tyler? - No, this is Detective Stern of the Arson Unit.
I need to see you...
I went to all the cities on Tyler's used ticket stubs, barhopping.
I didn't know how or why, but I could look at 50 different bars, and somehow I just knew.
I'm looking for Tyler Durden. It's very important that I talk to him.
I wish I could help you,
sir.
Every city I went to,
as soon as I set foot off the plane
I knew a Fight Club was close.
Hey! Hey!
Taxi!
Look at my face. I'm a member.
Now, I just need to know if you've seen Tyler.
I'm not exposed to bespeak any such information to you
nor would I, even if I had said information at this juncture,... be able.
- You're a moron. - I'm gonna have to ask you to leave.
Tyler had been busy... setting up franchises all over the country.
Was I asleep? Had I slept?
Is Tyler my bad dream, or am I Tyler's?
- We've just heard the stories. - What kind of stories?
- Nobody knows what he looks like. - He has plastic surgery every three years.
That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.
- Is it true about Fight Club in Miami? - Is Mr. Durden building an army?
I was living in a state of perpetual déjà vu.
Everywhere I went,
I felt I'd already been there.
It was like following an invisible man.
The smell of dried blood,
dirty, bare footprints circling each other.
That aroma of old sweat, like fried chicken.
The feel of a floor still warm from a fight the night before.
I was always just one step behind Tyler.
His name is Robert Paulsen...
Welcome back, sir.
How have you been?
Do you know me?
Is this a test, sir?
No. This is not a test.
You were in here last Thursday.
Thursday?
You were standing where you are now, asking how good security is.
It's tight as a drum, sir.
Who do you think I am?
Are you sure this isn't a test?
No, this is not a test.
You're Mr. Durden.
You're the one who gave me this.
Please return your seat backs to their full upright and locked position.
- Yeah? - Marla, it's me.
- Have we ever done it? - Done what?
Had sex?
What kind of stupid question is that?
Stupid because it's yes or because it's no?
- Is this a trick? - No. I need to know...
You wanna know if I think we were just having sex or making love?
- We did make love? - Is that what you're calling it?
Just answer the question! Did we do it or not?!
You fuck me, then snub me. You love me, you hate me.
You're sensitive, then you turn into an asshole.
Does that describe our relationship, Tyler?
We just lost cabin pressure.
What did you just say?
- What is wrong with you? - Say my name!
Tyler Durden! You fucking freak! What's going on?
- I'm coming over! - I'm not there!
You broke your promise.
Jesus, Tyler.
- You fucking talked to her about me. - What the fuck is going on?
I asked you for one thing. One simple thing.
Why do people think that I'm you?
Answer me!
Sit.
Answer me. Why do people think I'm you?
I think you know.
- No, I don't. - Yes, you do.
Why would anyone possibly confuse you with me?
I... I don't know.
- You got it. - No.
- Do not fuck with us! - Say it.
Because...
Say it!
Because we're the same person.
That's right.
We are the all-singing, all-dancing crap.
- I don't understand this. - You wanted a way to change your life.
You could not do this on your own.
All the ways you wish you could be,
that's me.
I look like you wanna look, I fuck like you wanna fuck.
I am smart, capable and, most importantly,
I'm free in all the ways that you are not.
Oh, no.
- Tyler's not here. Tyler went away. - What?
This isn't possible. This is crazy.
People do it every day.
They talk to themselves. They see themselves as they'd like to be.
They don't have the courage you have to just run with it.
You still wrestle with it, so sometimes you're still you.
- We should do this again sometime. - At times, you imagine you're watching me.
If this is your first time, you have to fight.
Little by little, you're just letting yourself become
Tyler Durden.
You are not your job or how much money you have!
- No. You have a house. - Rented in your name.
- You have jobs, a life. - You work nights because you can't sleep.
Or you stay up and make soap.
- You're fucking Marla, Tyler. - Technically, you are. It's all the same to her.
Oh, my God.
Now you see our dilemma.
She knows too much.
I think we're gonna have to talk about how this might compromise our goals.
What... What are you saying?
This is bullshit. This is bullshit, I'm not listening to this!
- You are insane! - No. You're insane.
We simply do not have time for this crap.
It's called a changeover.
The movie goes on
and nobody in the audience has any idea.
- Sir! Are you checking out? - Yeah. Bill me.
Can you initial this list of phone calls?
- When were these made? - Between 2.00 and 3.30 this morning.
Have I been going to bed earlier every night? Have I been sleeping later?
Have I been Tyler longer and longer?
Is anybody here?
Déjà vu all over again.
With enough soap, one could blow up anything.
Oh, my God.
- 1888. - Who am I calling?
1888 Franklin. This is maintenance. Hello?
Hello?
1888 Franklin Street?
Yes. Can I help you?
- Hello? - Yeah, yeah.
I need to talk to your supervisor right away.
- Speaking. - OK, listen to me.
Something terrible is about to happen to your building.
It's under control, sir.
- Excuse me? - Don't worry about us, sir. We're solid.
2160.
Marla! Marla! Hey, wait!
Wait! I gotta talk to you! Marla! Marla!
Your bald freaks hit me with a fucking broom! They almost broke my arm!
They were burning their fingertips with lye.
This needs a tremendous act of faith on your part, but hear me out.
- Here comes an avalanche of bullshit. - A little more faith than that.
I don't wanna hear anything you have to say.
You have every right to be...
I'll just have a coffee, thanks.
Sir. Anything you order is free of charge, sir.
Why is it free of charge?
- Don't ask. - Whatever.
I'll have the clam chowder, fried chicken and baked potato and a chocolate chiffon pie.
Clean food, please.
In that case, may I advise against the clam chowder.
No clam chowder. Thank you.
You got about 30 seconds.
I know I've been acting very strange, OK?
- I know it seems there's two sides to me... - Two sides?
- You're Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jackass. - I know. But I realised something important.
- What? - The nature of our relationship wasn't clear
to me for reasons I won't go into.
- I know I haven't treated you well. - Whatever.
No, no. Fifteen seconds, please!
Fifteen seconds, don't open your mouth.
I'm trying to tell you I'm sorry.
What I've come to realise is that I really like you, Marla.
You do?
I really do.
I care about you and I don't want anything bad to happen to you because of me.
Marla, your life is in danger.
What?
You need to leave town for a while. Get out of any major city.
- Just go camping... - You're an insane person.
- No. I've involved you in something terrible. - No. Shut up!
- You're not safe. - Shut up!
- Listen, I tried, Tyler. I really tried. - I know you did.
There are things about you I like. You're smart, funny.
You're spectacular in bed.
But
you're intolerable.
You have very serious emotional problems.
Deep-seated problems for which you should seek professional help.
- I know, and I'm sorry. - You're sorry, I'm sorry. Everyone's sorry.
I can't do this any more.
I can't.
And I won't.
I'm gone.
You can't leave, Marla! You're not safe!
- Marla, you don't understand! - Leave me alone!
- Marla, I am trying to protect you! - Let go!
- I don't ever wanna see you again! - That's fine...
Here, wait right here!
Hold it right there! Shut up!
Take this money and get on this bus.
I promise I won't bother you again.
Shut up!
Please get on the bus. Please get on the bus.
Why are you doing this?
They think you're a threat. I can't explain it now, just trust me!
- If I know where you are, you won't be safe. - I'll keep this, it's asshole tax.
- Fine. Remember, stay out of major cities. - Tyler.
You're the worst thing that ever happened to me.
Hello. I need you to arrest me.
I am the leader of a terrorist organisation
responsible for numerous acts of vandalism and assault all over this city.
In the metropolitan area, we had probably 200 members.
Chapters have sprung up in five or six other major cities already.
This is a tightly-regimented organisation
with many cells capable of operating independent of central leadership.
Go to the house, OK? 1537 Paper Street.
That's our headquarters.
In the back, buried in the garden,
you'll find the body of Robert Paulsen.
In the basement, you're gonna find some bathtubs
that have been used very recently to make large quantities of nitroglycerin.
I believe the plan is to blow up
the headquarters of these credit card companies
and the TRW building.
Why these buildings? Why credit card companies?
If you erase the debt record, then we all go back to zero.
You'll create total chaos.
Keep him talking. I need to make a phone call.
I really admire what you're doing.
What?
You're a brave man to order this.
You're a genius, sir.
You said if anyone ever interferes with Project Mayhem, even you,
we gotta get his balls.
- Don't fight. - It's a powerful gesture, Mr. Durden.
- It will set an example. - You're making a big mistake!
- You said you'd say that. - I'm not Tyler Durden!
- You told us you'd say that too. - All right. I am Tyler Durden.
Listen to me. I'm giving you a direct order.
- We're aborting this mission now. - You said you would definitely say that.
Are you fucking out of your minds? You're police officers!
Is somebody timing this?
Keep your mouth shut.
Shit!
Some of this information checks out.
- Let's go to that house on Paper Street. - Be right there.
Hey, wait!
- I got him. - Sir, we have to do this.
- Stop fighting! - Where's the rubber band?
Get away from me! Drop that fucking knife!
Back up. Face down on the floor right now!
Get down on the floor!
The first person that comes out of this door
gets a lead salad! Understand?
Get away! Stay away!
I ran.
I ran until my muscles burned and my veins pumped battery acid.
Then I ran some more.
What the fuck are you doing?
Running around in your underpants! You look crazy!
No. I'm onto you. I know what's going on here.
Come on, then. I got us a great place to watch from. It'll be like pay-per-view.
- Oh, Christ. - Now what are you doing?
- I'm stopping this. - Why?
- The greatest thing you've ever done. - I can't let this happen.
There are 10 other bombs in 10 other buildings.
Since when is Project Mayhem about murder?
The buildings are empty.
We're not killing anyone. We're setting 'em free!
Bob is dead. They shot him in the head.
You wanna make an omelette, you gotta break some eggs.
No. I'm not listening to you. You're not even there.
I wouldn't do that. Not unless you knew which wires were what.
If you know, I know.
Or maybe I knew you'd know, so I spent all day thinking about the wrong ones.
You think?
Oh, heavens, no. Not the green one.
Pull any one but the green one.
I asked you not to do that!
Fuck!
Tyler, get away from the van.
Tyler, I'm not kidding! Get away from the van!
Goddamn it!
OK.
You are now firing a gun at your imaginary friend
near 400 gallons of nitroglycerin!
Cool it, Tyler!
Come on!
Don't go!
What?!
Three minutes.
This is it.
The beginning.
Ground zero.
I think this is about where we came in.
Do you have a speech for the occasion?
I'm sorry?
I still can't think of anything.
Flashback humour.
It's getting exciting now.
Two and a half.
Think of everything we've accomplished.
Out these windows, we will view the collapse of financial history.
One step closer to economic equilibrium.
Why is she here?
Tying up loose ends.
Put me down, you baldheaded fuck!
- I beg you, please don't do this. - I'm not doing this.
- We are doing this. This is what we want. - No.
- I don't want this. - Right. Except you is meaningless now.
- We have to forget about you. - You're a voice in my head.
You're a voice in mine!
- Why can't I get rid of you? - You need me.
No. I don't. I really don't any more.
You created me. I didn't create some loser alter ego to make me feel better.
- Take some responsibility. - I do. I am responsible for all of it
and I accept that.
So, please, I'm begging you, please call this off.
Have I ever let us down?
How far have you come because of me?!
I will bring us through this.
As always, I will carry you kicking and screaming
and in the end you will thank me.
Tyler. Tyler.
I'm grateful to you. For everything that you've done for me.
But this is too much. I don't want this.
What do you want? Your shitjob back? Fucking condo world, watching sitcoms?
Fuck you! I won't do it.
- This can't be happening. - It's already done, so shut up!
60 seconds till CRI.
No.
I can figure this out. This isn't even real.
You're not real, that gun... That gun isn't even in your hand.
The gun's in my hand.
Good for you. It doesn't change a thing.
Why do you wanna put a gun to your head?
Not my head, Tyler.
Our head.
Interesting.
Where are you going with this, Ikea boy?
Hey. It's you and me.
Friends?
Tyler,
I want you to really listen to me.
OK.
My eyes are open.
What's that smell?
- Where is everybody? - Oh, no. What's going on?
Mr. Durden!
Oh, my God!
Are you... Are you all right, sir?
- Oh, yeah, I'm OK. - You look terrible, sir. What happened?
- Nothing, it's no problem. - No, no, no, sir. He's not kidding.
- You look awful. You need assistance. - I'm fine.
Look, I'm fine... Everything's fine.
Stop it!
- Let her go. - Christ Almighty!
You!
Hi, Marla.
- Leave her with me. Meet me downstairs. - Are you sure?
Yes, I'm sure.
You fucker! What kind of sick fucking game are you playing at?!
Putting me on a... Oh, my God, your face!
Yeah, I know.
What happened?
- Don't ask. - You're shot.
- Yes, I'm shot. - Oh, my God.
- I can't believe he's standing. - One tough motherfucker.
Who did this?
I did, actually.
Find some gauze.
You shot yourself?
Yes, but it's OK. Marla, look at me.
I'm really OK.
Trust me. Everything's gonna be fine.
You met me at a very strange time in my life.