He Died with a Felafel in His Hand (2001) - full transcript

(whooshes)

(whooshes)

("Golden Brown")

♪ Golden brown, texture like sun ♪

♪ Lays me down, with my mind she runs ♪

♪ Throughout the night ♪

♪ No need to fight ♪

♪ Never a frown with golden brown ♪

♪ Every time just like the last ♪

♪ On her ship tied to the mast ♪

♪ To distant lands ♪



♪ Takes both my hands ♪

♪ Never a frown with golden brown ♪

Flip, turn the fucking TV off!

People are trying to sleep.

Flip, have some fucking consideration.

For Christ's sake, Flip!

Flipster?

Oh shit.

Shit!

Fuck!

(energetic rock music)

♪ Don't you wanna be ♪

♪ A personality ♪

♪ An ocean in the sea ♪



♪ But you'll never make it ♪

♪ If you can't shake it ♪

♪ So don't mistake it ♪

♪ Just try and fake it ♪

♪ And I want you to know ♪

♪ You don't have far to go ♪

♪ So we'll use all your dough ♪

♪ To buy new clothes and see what flows ♪

♪ And powder your nose for those photos ♪

♪ You're almost on your way ♪

♪ To popularity ♪

♪ And we'll teach you to play ♪

♪ With icy stare and punk-rock hair ♪

♪ And beatnik flare,
we'll take you there ♪

♪ And there's so many round like you ♪

♪ And we don't care
just what you're doing ♪

♪ After we have gone our separate ways ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah ♪

♪ Yeah, hey ♪

(croaking)

Fore!

(frog thuds)

Shit.

[Milo] Bullshit!

[Otis] It's not bullshit.

[Milo] It's fucking bullshit!

[Otis] White's bleeding over Orange.

Cradles him in his arms
and says, I love you, man.

It's fucking bullshit and even if it

wasn't fucking bullshit,
they'd be saying it

- like blokes say it to each other.
- [Taylor] Fore!

(frog thuds)

♪ All the leaves are ♪

♪ All the leaves are brown ♪

♪ And the sky is grey ♪

Then Orange says back,
I love you too, man.

Yeah, they're saying I love you, man.

Not, I love you, man.

♪ I went for a walk ♪

♪ On a winter's day ♪

Why would he say that?

Why would he say I love you too, man

if he wasn't a pillow biter?

He's bleeding to
death for Christ's sake.

You say shit like that when
you're bleeding to death.

♪ I'd be safe and warm if I was in ♪

He's been holding it in the whole time.

He thinks he's gonna die.

He has to let it out.

Otherwise his secret will be
carried with him to the grave.

Bull-fucking-shit!

Look, I love Danny here.

But it doesn't mean I'm a
fucking chocolate dipper.

I'm no fucking chocolate dipper, mate.

What about that bit
where they're pointing

all those guns at each other?

What about it?

Well maybe it's not really
their guns they're pointing.

There's no way, pal!

No way, no fucking way!

Dude, I've seen it like 18 times.

It's fucking bullshit!

There are no fucking chocolate
dippers in that movie!

It's my favourite fucking movie, man!

You're all fucking ruining it for me!

♪ California dreaming ♪

It slices a bit to the right, dude.

[Milo] Fore!

(golf club wooshes)

(frog thuds)

I knew this bloke once, right?

And he used to masturbate so much

that he grew very fond of his hand.

So much so that he began to talk to it

and he put a little face on it.

And he called it Muriel.

And after a while, Muriel
began to talk back to him.

- Fore!
(frog thuds loudly)

He'd get her all dolled up in make-up

and specially made little clothes.

And at night she'd go down

and make intense, mad,
passionate love to him.

Anyway, one night about 3 a.m.,
he wakes up in a cold sweat.

And he hears all this panting
and moaning and groaning

coming from the next-door
neighbor's apartment.

And he looks down at his hand.

There's nothing there, it's gone.

It's just this bloody stump.

So he staggers out into
the hallway and he sees

that the next-door
neighbor's door's wide open.

So he pops his head in
and what does he see?

On the bed, his hand, Muriel,
all dressed up to the nines,

make-up on, going down on
the next-door neighbour.

It's a true story.

Yeah, I heard tell
once, dudes, that a guy

has about 4,000 times in
him before he's all used up.

That's fucking bullshit!

More like 40,000.

In your dreams, stick man.

Add it up!

Two times a day, seven days a week,

for what, I don't know, 40 years.

Two times a day?

Who the fuck gets to do
it two times a fucking day?

Me and Jess used to.

Two times a day.

Me and Jess used to
do it five times a day.

For 40 years?

What about hangovers?

What about Christmas Day?

How the fuck are you gonna do
it five times on Christmas Day

while the family are sitting
around carving up the turkey?

Make up for it at night with the wife.

Wife, what wife?

You haven't had a wife in over six months.

I haven't got a problem getting women.

I've got this thing I can
do that sends them gaga.

How exactly do you mean gaga?

Gaga, insane, berserk, talking
in tongues, you know, gaga.

What like some sort of secret weapon?

Some kind of like
weird sideways movement?

Can't really say, Flip.

But it's pretty special, though.

It could be worth a lot of money.

Let's just get this straight.

You're 20-something years old.

You have no job, no
money, very few prospects.

You haven't been seen in
the vicinity of anything

which even faintly resembles a member

of the opposite sex in over six months.

And yet, you sit here and tell us

that you have some kind of special thing

that makes the other side go gaga.

Well if it makes them go so fucking gaga,

then what the fuck are you
doing here with us losers?

Yeah, he's got a point there, Danster.

Yeah well, I didn't say it fixed

all the emotional stuff, did I?

[Sammy] Did I hear someone
mention emotional stuff?

A writer?

You're a writer?

I'm a writer.

I worked at Burger King for three years

before getting this job.

I've got an arts degree.

If we get you a job that
says you lick toilet bowls,

then that's what you do,
you lick toilet bowls.

(scoffs) A writer.

Jesus.

You can't write.

I can write.

Philosophical insights.

Direct experience with
the mystery of being.

Dusky whores.

Russian transvestites.

An unfinished thesis on the
10 most painful human emotions

does not constitute writing.

Got stuck on jealousy.

If it points inwards, it
means your heart's full.

If it points outwards, it
means your heart's empty.

You'd better spin it round then.

She might change her mind.

She ran off with your best friend.

She said I didn't let her breathe.

She said she needed some space.

You followed her every
time she left the room.

You sat outside the door
when she went to the toilet.

Is it my fault I worried I didn't have

a reason to exist whenever
she wasn't around?

What about a muse?

Enigmatic, mysterious,
intelligent of spirit.

All great writers have a muse.

What about teletype paper?

Excuse me?

Kerouac wrote on the road

on an entire roll of teletype paper.

He reckoned the pages imposed

an artificial structure on
his stream of consciousness.

I heard tell once,
dude, you write a story

for Penthouse, they pay
you 25 G's, minimum.

25 grand?

[Flip] Yeah minimum.

It won't budge.

That must mean something, mustn't it?

Means you're getting fat.

She said she needed to live a little.

What does that mean, live a little?

Lead melts at 335 degrees Centigrade.

The last tram leaves the
town hall at 11:05 p.m.

(scoffs) That's so fucking true.

(bell rings)

(sighs) Shit.

I have come about the room.

(upbeat music)

It's a tent.

Bank clerk lives there.

Half rent, saves money.

Do you mind?

It's not for rent.

Name's Jabber, Jabber the Hut.

Anya.

I control the remote.

Understand?

Remote stays with me at all times.

I do not believe in the
watching of television.

It is the opiate of the masses.

I'll just pretend you never said that.

I need to know if the fridge
has ever had any meat in it.

(golf club swooshes)
(frog thuds)

I am, how you say non-eater of meat.

Vego.

Vego.

Fridge is cool.

Nothing but poundcake,
beer and fish fingers.

What is this fish fingers?

Rectangular.

Fish.

Fried.

- Crunchy.
- Good.

The roof, on the other hand.

Flip!

[Milo] It's a beef patty.

Been up there for years.

- (door opens)
- Stand back, people.

We're going in!

Taylor, do you think that's wise?

I'm sure I saw something
moving in there this morning.

(sighs) You've got to
watch out for the sneakers.

When they're replaced by army boots,

it's random sniper time.

[Taylor] Fore!

(golf club swooshes)
(frog thuds loudly)

Enigmatic, mysterious,
intelligent of spirit.

You're talking about the
girl I intend to marry.

One.

All intelligence must be shared.

Wasn't there an Anya in War and Peace?

Two.

Everyone's gotta give it their best shot.

Chemistry, Danny.

Can't beat chemistry.

Three.

There is to be no lying,
cheating, or backstabbing.

Maybe it's Dostoyevsky.

Brothers Karamazov, I think.

Guy who gets the first
date gets a clear run.

Loser runs around the house three times

with his undies on his head.

Did you see the sparks fly between us?

It's a done deal, my son.

Don't even go there.

I thought you all hated vegetarians.

[Danny] True love knows
no boundaries, Sammy.

And she's not adverse to
the occasional fish finger.

Basically, we're willing
to make concessions.

We agree?

I'm not like you guys.

I'm in it for the long haul.

We can deal with that.

[Milo] We'll work around it.

It's a bonding thing.

[Otis] Blokes gotta stick together.

[Milo] All for one, one for all.

[Otis] That sort of thing.

Guys with hard-ons.

The blood rushes from
their brains to their dicks

and they all become real stupid.

(typewriter clacking)

[Man] Mr. Kirkhope?

Yes?

I wonder if we might have
a few moments of your time.

Every month, $563 is
supposed to be delivered

to a certain post office
box at the Brisbane GPO.

(voice chatters on phone)

For the last four months,
this has not happened.

(voice chatters on phone)

Do any of you have any reason

(voice chatters on phone)
for this?

You do know those things give
you brain tumours, don't you?

Um. (Clears throat)

We seem to be going through a bit

of a transitionary fiscal
crisis at the moment.

He means a recession.

We're considering it the
recession we had to have.

I think we got ourselves
a couple of smart-arses.

Are any of you shitheads
related to a copper or a pollie?

Looks like we're in the clear.

Damn good tea.

It's chai from India.

Biscuit?

No thank you.

We're expecting a big check
at the end of the month.

25 G's from Penthouse magazine.

What do you do?

Pose for a fucking centrefold?

No, I'm a writer.

I write for Penthouse magazine.

No kidding.

You got a machine?

[Danny] I've got an Underwood.

Is that Mac or Windows?

It's a typewriter.

Don't sound like no
fucking writer to me, mate.

- Oh, well, Hunter S.
Thompson used an Underwood.

Kerouac, Hemingway used an Underwood.

Stephen King?

Stephen King wrote heaps
of stuff on an Underwood.

Are we gonna get our bond back?

Did anyone say you
could talk, dickstrap?

Did anybody here say you could open

your dirty, fucking, stinking little trap?

If I get a tumour, funboy,

I'm gonna hold you personally
fucking responsible.

Us again.

One of the life forms here

has raised a question about the bond.

(voice chatters on phone)

Yeah.

Sure.

Sure, no problem, can do.

Four months' back rent.

Two months' rent in advance.

End of week.

Otherwise.

(air hisses)

Comprehende?

Do you think it's true
about the brain tumour?

Supposed to be.

You can get headset, you know.

Keep the phone in your
pocket, talk into the mike.

Well you'd look like a
frigging receptionist!

[Man] It's an earphone thing!

(thuds)

Penthouse magazine?

(typewriter clacking)

Enter me,

enter me,

she gasped.

(typewriter dings)

Enter me hard, enter me deep.

I want you inside me.

Yes, yes!

Insert yourself, Rodney.

I want you now, entering hard,
entering deep, yes, now, oh.

I entered her?

He entered me?

I wanted him inside me.

What are we, cars, elevators,

hotel rooms that guys can crawl inside of,

eat, sleep and leave a big mess

for someone else to clear up?

It's for Penthouse magazine.

I just don't think anyone should enter

or get entered, that's all.

What about the 25 grand?

15?

You want the truth?

(outside door closes)

This way.

Just put it on the right.

[Danny] You sure you
don't need any help?

Maybe later, I think.

There're all these words for
a woman who doesn't want sex,

frigid, uptight, cold, icy.

But can you think of one word

for a man who doesn't wanna have sex?

Dead.

(typewriter clacking)

(distant singing)

♪ Girl, I'm sorry I was blind ♪

♪ You were always on my mind ♪

♪ You were always on my mind ♪

♪ Tell me ♪

♪ Tell me that your
sweet love hasn't died ♪

- Scary.
♪ Give me ♪

Must be, how you say?

♪ Give me one more chance ♪

- Bonding.
♪ To make you satisfied ♪

I've said it before.

It's a tribal thing.

Go in boys and come out men.

(imitates guitar)

♪ Little things I should
have said and done ♪

They'll be circumcising themselves

with sharp rocks any minute now.

[Jabber] Sing it, fellows!

♪ You were always on my mind ♪

♪ You were always on my mind ♪

Getting some serious rays there, Flip?

Moontanning, man.

Full moon.

You don't get 'em every day.

[Danny] No, you don't.

Do you ever wonder if
it's all a big con, Flip?

[Flip] Eh?

This.

Everything.

What if none of it really exists?

What if it's like some big experiment,

and we're like ants trapped
in a giant Petri dish?

What if there's a greater
intelligence out there

and it's creating
everything purely as a way

of stopping us going insane on them?

What if nothing really
exists until we sense it?

My room doesn't exist 'til I walk into it.

Front yard doesn't exist
'til I experience it.

You don't exist.

I don't exist?

Well, you could be just a projection

of my inner psyche
materialised from my brain

in order to keep me company.

What about the cashmere
sweater babes over the road

with their swishy little skirts and all?

Would they be from your
inner psyche or mine?

Probably yours, I reckon, Flip.

Took off a while ago
with some rugby types.

Losers, man, forget them.

No, we're connected, man.

Once you have them by the moonlight,

they never wanna go back.

It would mean that when we close

our eyes, everything disappears.

And if we open them fast enough

we might be able to catch
the greater intelligence out

and see there's actually nothing there.

What if I kept mine
open while you shut yours?

No, you're just being stupid now, Flip.

It doesn't work like that.

There may be some sort of
delay switch happening.

Tomorrow is the
shortest day of the year.

In pagan times, it would be time

for the king to be sacrificed

and for the queen to select
a new man to be her king.

May I?

Seems a bit rough on the
poor old kings, doesn't it?

It was a great honour.

Their blood had to be
poured into the ground

to make the earth fertile again
and the harvest plentiful.

Makes you sort of thankful
for crop rotation, doesn't it?

The female fertility cycle is 28 days.

The lunar moonth is 28 days.

Month.

No, moonth.

The moonth is a lunar month,

the same as a woman's fertility cycle.

13 moonths fit exactly into one year.

At the end of the 13th
moonth, the king must die.

Oh well, I guess if it
helps for the harvest.

When the patriarchy
took over, they abolished

the 13th moonth to stop
the killing of the kings.

That's why they say 13
is the unlucky number.

Why should 13 be the unlucky number?

Just because some man didn't
want to be bled to death.

I get very pissed off about that.

Men are bastards.

I hear about your secret weapon.

To make us go, how you say?

Gaga?

(Danny clears throat)

Uh, will you excuse me for a moment?

(typewriter clacking)

I'm telling you, bud,

if this deal comes together,

it's just gonna be one long line

of kneeling down,
dick-sucking motherfuckers

waiting for me to come along and give them

a taste of the big fellow here.

How're you gonna get
the designs on, dude?

I don't see how you're gonna do that.

(coughs)

Any fucker propeller head
can do the designs, bud.

Those lines and dots they've got

can be changed into, like, ridges

and bumps for added sensitivity.

Fucking guy's gonna think
he's fucking Tarzan.

(chuckles)

(bong hisses and gurgles)

You got a name for it yet?

We're gonna call him the woomera.

Think about it.

Go further, longer with the Woomera.

(door thuds)

I thought we said no
fucking backstabbing!

What man, what are you talking about?

You told her!

Told her what?

Secret weapon, talking in tongues, gaga.

We never!

Whatever happened to all
for one and one for all?

Male bonding, remember?

We was doing you a favour, man.

We thought she'd be impressed.

We thought she'd want a taste.

(door slams)

It's gonna be fucking huge, man.

Guys are gonna be beating
down my fucking door

to buy condoms with Aboriginal
tribal paintings on them.

(footsteps approaching)

(knocking on door)

I'm not here.

(door creaks)

Excuse me.

Do you wanna get married?

(typewriter clacking)

We get married.

We live together.

We sit and face the same direction.

We stare at the same thing.

We have conversation that lasts no longer

than the commercial breaks on TV.

And one day, we wake up.

We look in the mirror and we wonder

what happened to our lives.

You sure that's what happens?

There's no hope?

Very little.

Pages tend to impose
an artificial structure

on the stream of consciousness.

They don't make teletype paper anymore.

I've already looked.

Show me your hand.

You are deeply aware of
your own sense of melodrama.

You lack faith in yourself
but expect faith in others.

You project your insecurities
onto everyone around you.

You reject happiness as being
shallow and superficial.

You embrace postmodernism

to avoid having an original thought.

You criticise yourself

because it places you above criticism.

You desire what you hate and
you hate what you desire.

And you always have to kill
what you love the most.

You can see all that?

Nothing is new anymore.

Everything is rehashed.

Do you think there's such
a thing as human nature?

Do you think I can invite
some friend for a party?

(sighs)

Don't see why not.

(thuds)

(typewriter clacking)

There once was a man

who used to masturbate.

(dings)

So much.

(jaunty music)
(Danny whistling)

(sighs) Fuck.

John and Marjorie Lewis
request the pleasure

of the company of Daniel Kirkhope

to celebrate the marriage of Jessica Kate

and James Lindsay at
the St Stephens Chapel.

You know, there are
nuances tenth time around

that slip by you at first.

I broke bread with these people, Sammy.

Me and Matt swapped cooking tips.

They obviously don't understand
the religious significance of that act.

I thought they understood me.

I thought they sympathised with me.

Bit selfish of them to side

with their own flesh and blood, eh?

[Danny] It's a fucking
betrayal, is what it is.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

Roses, Danny, roses.

Candlelit dinner, glass of
wine, bit of a spliff and boof!

Boof.

Boof.

You old romantic, you.

She wants to have a party
with some of her friends.

I said it would be cool.

(whoops)

You can't beat roses, Danny.

Add them to the local
all-you-can-eat salad bar

and you've got yourself
one deadly combination.

You wanna get married?

Can't, got to go out later.

Good evening.

I move in now, yes?

Yes?

I move in now?

I'm sorry, the room is taken.

Bond.

Do we have a name?

Yes.

Your name, what is your name?

Sam.

Danny.

Flip.

Jabber the Hut.

Oh, Star Wars Trilogy.

Got it in one, Tiger Girl.

You, yes?

Hi, Satomi.

Satomi.

Where are we going to put her?

What do you think?

(typewriter clacking)

They look different,
they talk different,

and know things we can't
even begin to comprehend.

If that's not a sign of an
alien, I don't know what is.

He your boyfriend?

Do I look like a masochist?

They come down here, they
get impregnated with our seed,

then they bugger off back
to the Planet Beautiful,

where only women are allowed to live.

I wanna find that planet.

Okay, Tiger Girl.

[Danny] I want to live there.

Either we come up the equivalent

of Colombia's national
debt in the next 24 hours,

or seriously consider some kind
of ritualised mass suicide.

(faint chanting)

What in God's name is going on out there?

Didn't your sisters who
run with the wolves tell you?

♪ Shekhinah, Morgana ♪

♪ Maya, Izanami, Shakti ♪

Explanation?

[Danny] Winter solstice blue moonth.

Some poor bastard's gotta be sacrificed

so that the earth may bear fruit.

Seems a bit rough on the bloke.

That's what I said,

but I obviously wasn't taking into account

4,000 years of patriarchal tyranny.

Who are they going to sacrifice?

Hello, you duds!

Winter solstice blue moonth party!

♪ Maya, Izanami, Shakti ♪

♪ Ishtar, Ceridwen, Hecate, Inanna ♪

♪ Isis, Artemis, Sophia,
Athena, Coatilicue ♪

Ooh!

Baby.

♪ Gaia, Saraswati ♪

♪ Kali, Paso Wee, Demeter, Bhavati ♪

♪ Hera, Akewa, Diana, Nidaba ♪

♪ Chicomecoatl, waterlily ♪

Are you not coming?

It is very empowering.

♪ Ishtar, Ceridwen, Hecate, Inanna ♪

♪ Isis, Artemis, Sophia, Athena ♪

I'll see you outside, then?

♪ Aphrodite, Mielikki, Astarte ♪

♪ Gaia, Saraswati, Kali ♪

You're joking.

You're not joking.

Don't you want to run
with the wolves too?

I might just take a
rain check on that one,

if it's okay with you.

Just in case the Christian
Brothers were right.

(chanting continues)

(Milo whoops)

♪ Hera, Akewa, Diana, Nidaba ♪

You better hurry up,
you'll miss the sacrifice.

Hey.

What?

♪ Ishtar, Ceridwen, Hecate, Inanna ♪

Get out of here.

♪ Isis, Artemis, Sophia, Athena ♪

♪ Coatilicue, Aphrodite,
Mielikki, Astarte ♪

♪ Gaia, Saraswati, Kali ♪

Fuck.

♪ Kali, Paso Wee, Demeter, Bhavati ♪

♪ Hera, Akewa, Diana, Nidaba ♪

♪ Chicomecoatl, waterlily,
Shekhina, Morgana ♪

♪ Maya, Izanami, Shakti. ♪

I call on the guardians
of the four watchtowers.

[All] We call on the guardians
of the four watchtowers.

(all chanting)

Hey, guys?

Guys, I thought this was supposed
to be a pretend sacrifice.

Hey guys!

(typewriter clacking)

♪ Isis ♪

[Milo] Hey, guys!

It's getting warmer!

(tense music)

Are you sure this is safe?

Guys, I don't like it at all.

If this was real, you'd
both be dog meat by now.

("Star Wars Theme Song")

[Man] Guardians of the four watchtowers?

[Flip] Straight through.

Out the back, first on the right.

[Man] Cool.

[Taylor] Go for it.

(music swells)

Taylor, do you know these people?

Let's just say I have connections.

I had to call in the cavalry

to neutralise the rent situation.

With extreme prejudice, cover me.

(car approaches)

(woman moans)

Oh, man!

(woman moans repeatedly)

- Ooh!
(man grunts)

♪ The sun on the meadow ♪

[Milo] Not a shish-kebab!

Taylor, these reinforcements of yours,

they wouldn't be, by any
chance, Nazis, would they?

[Milo] You're a bunch of pagan freaks!

I prefer to think of them

- as politically challenged.
- Ow!

Jesus fucking Christ!

Crazy, man!

Jesus!
(Flip screams)

I knew it.

There's some seriously bad
medicine going down out there.

Just as I thought.

He's crossed to the Dark Side.

Probably for the better.

He's with his own kind now.

Shouldn't we mark him as of the beast?

- (Flip moans)
- It's just shock, is all.

Saw a cashmere sweater back...
Shut up!

- Ow!
(Milo chuckles)

Cashmere sweater babe came back
with flat-headed rugby type.

(man and woman moaning)

They've been going at it like lamb chops

on the front lawn.
(man yelling)

[Taylor] What now?

(woman moaning loudly)

[Man] Gentle, gentle, gentle.

(both moan and yelling)

Ooh, ouch!

Nasty!

- That's gotta hurt.
(woman exclaims)

It's a bad game, dude.

(both moaning and yelling)

Brings out the worst in people.

(passionate yelling escalates)

- (chainsaw revving)
- No, no!

I'll do anything!

I'll come to your meetings!

I'll denounce the others!

Please!

Leave it here, please.

This cannot be happening.

Now that is just fucking going too far!

(chainsaw buzzes)

♪ Oh Father, Oh Father ♪

♪ Oh show us the sign ♪

♪ Your children have waited to see ♪

(wood clatters)

♪ The morning will come ♪

♪ When the world is mine ♪

♪ Tomorrow belongs ♪

♪ Tomorrow belongs ♪

♪ Tomorrow belongs to me ♪

(chainsaw buzzes)

♪ Tomorrow belongs ♪

♪ Tomorrow belongs ♪

♪ Tomorrow belongs to me ♪

♪ Oh Father, Oh Father ♪

♪ Oh show us the sign ♪

♪ Your children have waited to see ♪

♪ The morning will come ♪

♪ When the world is mine ♪

♪ Tomorrow belongs ♪

♪ Tomorrow belongs ♪

♪ Tomorrow belongs to me ♪

Time to pay the rent, arsewipes.

(chainsaw buzzes)
♪ Tomorrow belongs to me ♪

(crowd cheers and applauds)

♪ Should auld acquaintance be forgot ♪

♪ And never brought to mind ♪

- ♪ Should auld acquaintance ♪
- Fucking wankers.

♪ Be forgot and ♪

Look after her for me,

will you, little buddy?
♪ Auld lang syne ♪

♪ For auld lang ♪

I love you, man.

- I love you too, Flip.
♪ For auld lang syne ♪

♪ We'll take a cup ♪

(motorcycle approaches)

(screams)

♪ Should auld acquaintance be forgot and ♪

Whoa, freak show, dude.

♪ Should auld acquaintance be forgot ♪

♪ And days of auld lang syne ♪

♪ For auld lang syne, my dear ♪

♪ For auld lang syne ♪

♪ We'll take a cup ♪

♪ Of kindness then ♪

♪ For auld lang ♪

I go now, yes?

I think so, Tiger Girl.

I really do think so.

Hai, douma arrigatou.

♪ Be forgot and never brought to mind ♪

(crashes)

(crashes)

♪ And days of auld lang syne ♪

♪ For auld lang syne, my dear ♪

♪ For auld lang syne ♪

It's us.

♪ We'll take a cup of ♪

Yeah, well, I don't think

you're gonna like this very much.

(crowd cheers and applauds)

(typewriter clacking)

If this were an environmentally
sound society, Daniel,

your two-liter plastic orange juice bottle

would be just the right height to fit

your dry fettuccine into, wouldn't it?

(typewriter clacking)

(soft guitar music)

♪ All the leaves are ♪

♪ All the leaves are brown ♪

- ♪ And the sky is grey ♪
- But it's not though, is it?

It's an economically
corrupt, non-renewable,

rip the guts out of the ecosystem,

toxic materialist society, isn't it?

♪ I've been for a walk ♪

♪ On a winter's day ♪

So they end up make your
two-liter juice bottle

exactly 2 1/2 centimetres
too fucking short

to fit your dry fettuccine
into, don't they?

♪ I'd be safe and warm ♪

♪ If I was in ♪
(thuds loudly)

On fucking purpose!

You do know those things leak radiation

like a sieve, don't you?

(microwave beeps)

Beginning to worry about you, Daniel.

Starting to notice a severely

self-destructive streak in you lately.

(typewriter clacking)

(steady rock music)

♪ I am the passenger ♪

♪ And I ride and I ride ♪

♪ I ride through the city's backside ♪

♪ I see the stars coming out tonight ♪

♪ Yeah, they're bright in a hollow sky ♪

♪ You know it looks so good tonight ♪

(doorbell rings)

Fuck!

Flip!

What are you doing here?

He met the winner of the Tathra wet...

Met the winner of the Tathra
wet T-shirt competition.

Woo.

Started pissing down as soon as

we crossed the fucking border.

Poor little bastard here
nearly froze to death.

You should really call
your mother, Daniel.

She hasn't heard from you in weeks.

Been doing the figures, Danny boy.

I've done all the dates,
bought all the flowers,

had all the candlelit dinners.

Been to gallery openings,
sat through the plays.

Expressed my feelings.

Came up with some new ones
I never even knew I had.

Said all the right things,
told all the right lies,

but still, still not one
drop of affection down south.

You do realise Lenin wasn't
actually his real name?

It's a completely made-up name.

Like Bono or Prince.

You see this wallet?

Apparently rocked up one morning

and said, call me Lenin.

$4,873 have passed through this wallet

in the past 12 months.

All of it in the sole pursuit of women.

Pity he didn't hang around.

He could have called himself,

the political leader
formerly known as Lenin.

So you know what I did?

I got up, caught a cab to
the red-light district,

walked into a brothel,
pulled out a $100 bill

and a very nice girl took me into her room

and had sex with me just like that!

I'm a convert, Danny boy.

A true believer.

Just goes to show you what a postmodern

sort of guy he was, I suppose.

(thunder crashes)
(doorbell rings)

Fuck!

Sammy!

Your mum says you really should try

and ring her a bit more.

She's terrified of commitment, Danny.

Commitment involves feelings,
feelings involve emotions

and emotions are a fascist construct

forced upon us over thousands of years

by the patriarchal hierarchy.

I'm beginning to hate
that patriarchal hierarchy.

I wasn't allowed to moan
because it sounded like a cliche.

I wasn't allowed to gasp because
it sounded like a cliche.

I wasn't allowed to say I love you

because it sounded like a cliche.

How do you climax without
it sounding like a cliche?

Do you reckon I should
look at P for prostitute

or E for escort?

(thunder rumbles)

(haunting music)

Make love to me.

Excuse me?

You know, berserk?

Gaga, talking in tongues?

♪ Is there a time for
keeping your distance ♪

Don't you find me attractive?

Of course I find you attractive.

Well, then?

Well we're mates.

You can't sleep with your mates.

It's one of the unwritten rules

of the moral code of mateship.

I didn't know there
were any unwritten rules

of the moral code of mateship.

Oh yeah, they're, they're the biggies.

No sleeping with a mate.

No sleeping with a mate's girlfriend.

No urinating on a mate's car.

It's column-of-salt sort of stuff.

Sodom and Gomorrah and all that.

Old Testament?

Yeah, you know.

Plagues, pestilence, frogs falling

from the sky, that sort of thing.

Doesn't sound too good, does it?

♪ Is there a time to run for cover ♪

I just need to feel loved.

I just need to feel.

(typewriter clacking)

(dark music)

♪ I hear stories from the chamber ♪

♪ How Christ was born into a manger ♪

♪ And like some ragged
stranger died upon the cross ♪

♪ And might I say ♪

♪ It seems so fitting in its way ♪

♪ He was a carpenter by trade ♪

♪ Or at least that's what I'm told ♪

Sammy?

(water running)

Sammy?

Sammy.

Oh, fuck!

♪ And in a way I'm hoping to be done ♪

♪ With all this weighing up of truth ♪

♪ An eye for an eye ♪

♪ And a tooth for a tooth ♪

♪ And I've got nothing left to lose ♪

♪ And I'm not afraid to die ♪

♪ The mercy seat is waiting ♪

Oh!

Shit!

♪ In a way I'm yearning to be done ♪

♪ With all this measuring of proof ♪

♪ An eye for an eye ♪

♪ And a tooth for a tooth ♪

Why is three o'clock in the morning

always the hour of choice
to put on Nick Cave,

get depressed and kill yourself?

What's wrong with the middle of the day

when everyone's awake and
ready to call an ambulance?

What's happening to me?

I can't even kill myself properly.

I can't do anything properly.

(soft piano music)

I'm sure if you concentrated,

you'd be able to kill yourself
better than anyone else I know.

Really?

You do everything better
than anyone else I know.

You think?

♪ And the mercy seat is waiting ♪

♪ And I think my head is burning ♪

♪ In a way I'm yearning to be done ♪

I must look horrible.

You look wonderful.

♪ An eye for an eye ♪

♪ And a tooth for a tooth ♪

Did you have fish sticks for dinner?

Possibly.

You just, you sort of taste all fishy.

Should I brush?

♪ I hear stories from the chamber ♪

♪ How Christ was born into a manger ♪

♪ And like some ragged stranger ♪

(thumps)

Your room's very orderly, Danny.

One of the best we've seen.

How do you know my name?

I'll tell you how
this game works, Daniel.

We're the cops.

We get to ask the questions.

You're the suspect.

You get to complain about
your civil liberties,

perhaps get shot, maybe even killed.

And it has to stay like that, Daniel.

Otherwise, everything
falls out of balance.

And when things fall out of balance,

you know what happens
then, don't you, Daniel?

Your spiritual values start to decline.

You get your disintegration

of your social structure, don't you?

The system collapses.

Pestilence, flood, famine.

It happened to the Romans.

It happened to the Greeks.

It happened to the ancient Mesopotamians.

And we don't want it happening
to us, now do we, Daniel?

What's this then, Daniel?

Toilet paper?

I'm a writer.

Pages impose an artificial structure

on my stream of consciousness.

Well, I guess that would
mean you'd write shit, then.

Wouldn't it, Daniel?

What's going on?

We're the police, sweetheart.

Your civil liberties are
about to be violated.

Oh great.

If prostitution is
the rental of the body,

marriage is the sale.

You're a sick fuck, aren't you, Daniel?

What the fuck is wrong with you people?

Haven't you got anything better to do,

like chasing rapists or
murderers or something?

You know something
about rapes and murders,

do you, sweetheart?

Fuck you.

Sammy.

We refuse to answer any questions

without the presence of a solicitor.

You know what we usually do
to places like this, Daniel?

We usually torch them.

So that would make you
the arson squad then?

(laughs)

You're a tough nut to
crack, aren't you, hard case?

You animals got any
guns on the premises?

Sure, we've got a cache

of paramilitary weapons up in the attic.

I'll just nip up and get them, shall?

No, I reckon you're on something.

What do you reckon, Stuart?

Put it away, Russ.

You lot on drugs?

Only when we can get them.

If you don't cooperate, hard case,

you never know what might happen.

Nice tatts, man.

You look like a fucking
pincushion down there, mate.

Flip, what's going on?

It's cool, dude.

Nanna's booked me into rehab.

(sighs)

It's a good one.

They get you to make
your own bed and stuff.

Let's stop the clowning
around, hard case.

Your friend here led us
a merry chase last night

through numerous brothels, two nightclubs,

a girlie bar and the casino.

Picked him up at the blackjack table,

trying to order half a dozen Asian girls

and a gramme of speed from the croupier.

We cancelled the girls.

Not before he whacked up
over eight-grand's worth

of whoopee on this, though, Danny boy.

That's my card.

It would seem so, Danny boy.

Seems like you owe $7,257
in rent and damages

to some of our friends in Brissy, Daniel.

Add that to the eight large notched up

by your associate here.

Which means you're gonna need

the mother of all student loans

to pay that lot back, aren't you, Daniel?

We refuse to say one more word

until we have spoken to a lawyer.

Now I've had just about enough

of you I can take, arsewipe!

Some of our friends
own that casino, Daniel.

And they don't like being out-of-pocket.

Makes them angry.

Makes us angry.

I need to pee.

Can you hear something, Stuart?

Put it away, Russ.

You know, like a mosquito
buzzing, or something like that.

Russ!

Put it away!

He needs to fucking
pee, you fascist pig dog!

(groans)

(gun fires)

(thuds)

Shit.

Big mistake, hard case.

Big fucking mistake.

(laboured breathing)

Fight the power, Daniel!

Fight the power, lain.

(thunder rumbles)

[Stuart] Pity it had
to come to this, Daniel.

And who was to know it
was only a water pistol?

[Danny] Excuse me?

The gun.

What gun?

Your friend pulled a gun.

We fired in self-defense.

Who was to know it was only a toy?

Are you insane?

There was no gun.

You look after yourself
out there, Daniel.

Anything could happen, you know.

And let's face it mate, it
probably will, won't it?

(siren wailing)

I'm not your mate.

Maybe,

maybe it was like, you
know, a Buddhist thing.

He denies your existence, don't call us,

we'll call you, that sort of thing.

It's the police, Sammy.

They're hardly likely to be Buddhists.

They shoot first, ask
questions later down here.

I'm a dead man.

Maybe you're just losing weight.

Inwards, your heart is full.

Outwards, your heart is empty.

I wasn't exactly expecting
a shower of confetti.

Maybe you should move on.

It might not be too sensible for you

to wait around for anything to happen.

What about you?

I think I'll, think I'll
stick around here for a while.

Sort of like it.

(Taylor retches)

(yells)

Best fucking night I've had in ages.

(typewriter clacking)

Just what is your fucking problem, Nina?

Nothing, Dirk.

What is your fucking problem?

I don't have a problem, Nina.

I'm just making toast.

Well, I'm just unpacking
the shopping, Dirk.

(typewriter clacking)

♪ All the leaves are ♪

♪ All the leaves are brown ♪

♪ And the sky is grey ♪

You're fucking insane.

You're a fascist bitch.

You're the fascist, Dirk!

I am not a fascist, Nina.

♪ I went for a walk ♪

♪ On a winter's day ♪

♪ If I didn't tell her ♪

♪ I could leave today ♪

That's the biscuit shelf, Nina.

This is where the pineapple chunks go.

That's the biscuit shelf, Dirk!

Scotch fingers, Tim Tams, Tiny Teddies.

This is the pineapple shelf.

It always has been and always
will be the pineapple shelf.

You're a crazy, lying, anorexic,

praying fucking mantis evil witch!

Danny, I demand we have a house meeting.

♪ California dreaming ♪

♪ On a winter's day ♪

(door buzzes)

Sammy!

What are you doing here?

Heard you had a spare room.

You really should ring your mum, you know.

I think she misses you.

Tuesdays and Thursdays,
Danny puts out the rubbish.

Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays,

Dirk cleans the bathroom and the kitchen.

Saturdays and Wednesdays,
new person, that's you,

vacuums the house,
including all the bedrooms.

Taylor cooks when he's not on night shift,

Uptight does it when he is.

And everyone is banned
from writing each other

into their novels, plays, film scripts,

websites and all future technologies.

What about you, what do you do?

(scoffs)

I don't have to put
up with this, you know.

I do have an audition in the morning.

Don't know what you see in
her, she's not very attractive.

Welcome to hell.

[Sammy] At least it's warm.

(typewriter clacking)
(buzzing)

Mr. Corcoran?

Excuse me?

I'm with the William Macey's
high-purchase division.

Just wondering if a Robert
Corcoran lived here.

Come on in.

You're number five for the week.

Forming a club here for
people chasing Mr. Corcoran.

And you are?

Bragg, Billy Bragg.

Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Repo Man.

Drawer of the living dead.

All for Mr. Corcoran.

Doesn't take a rocket
scientist to figure it out.

Fake ID, phone account,
broker a line of credit,

stakes back to us, bingo.

There is no Mr. Corcoran.

Probably never was.

If work calls, I've had a car accident.

If uni calls, I'm in
Melbourne on a research trip.

If Mum calls, I'm gay

and fucking my sister over at her place.

And if Joey calls, I'm
still using the computer

so he can go and get fucked!

You know, if you all watched
just a few more daytime soaps,

you'd understand a whole lot better

what I have to go through
every day of my life.

The ups and downs, the highs and lows.

How about a nice cup of tea?

(door slams)

(buzzing)

(sighs)

[Danny] Fuck!

Your mother seems very nice.

You really should speak
to her a bit more often.

Mr. Corcoran, I presume?

Do stoevski.

Italian name, is it?

That old Corcoran sure does love

to shop, don't he, Fyodor?

And he ain't finished with us yet.

Not by a long shot.

He's got your Amex, your Visa,
your MasterCard, Diners Club,

hell, even your Grace Bros
card's up there in the top five.

You're too sensitive.

You feel too much.

Why do you always have to feel so much?

Why do you always have to wear black?

I'm in mourning for my life.

This is Sydney, you know.

They do things differently here.

Nobody cares about my problems, do they?

Nobody cares about how I was raped

by my uncle when I was 14,

or how my psycho ex-boyfriend slept

with my arch-nemesis from drama school!

Do you always have to flirt?

You flirt with anything.

You'd flirt with a rock if you could.

I find it natural.

[Sammy] Well, try to suppress it.

I think you're being weird.

Not as weird as you.

When it comes to weird,
I think you take the cake.

I am not weird.

Nice tea, Fyodor.

It's Indian, I think.

Biscuit?

I don't want to talk anymore.

I've had a cunt of a day.

It's not cheap, you know.

Bulimia's not cheap, you know?

A real cunt of a day.

Crime and Punishment and
what was the other one?

The Idiot.

I'll keep an eye out for them, Fyodor.

But I gotta tell you,
you're never gonna be

a successful writer with titles like that.

This is Sydney, you've
got to be more upbeat.

Do you know what I mean?

I want those creatures out of my house!

(funky music)

(women passionately moaning)

(knocking on door)

What?

May I?

We are not too loud for you, are we?

You know, we're just having fun.

How's the patriarchal hierarchy?

How is, how you say?

Your stream of unconsciousness?

(sighs)

You sure we're not too loud for you?

Not a problem, knock yourself out.

I had better go.

(women squealing and laughing)

Fuck.

(glass shatters)

[Anya] Look what you've done!

[Danny] Jesus Christ!

(knocking on door)

I'm sorry, we broke the lamp.

Look.

I don't care if you break your skull

and your fucking little brains

come seeping out onto the carpet.

I just wanna be left alone.

I want to be going berserk.

I want to be talking in tongues.

I want to be gaga.

[Danny] I'm sorry.

What for?

[Danny] It didn't mean anything.

Spare me the cliches, Danny.

I'm a parody of myself, remember?

No-one can hurt me.

I have no feelings, remember?

Feelings are a fascist construct.

No!

I don't see why I should have to suffer

just because you two
were beaten as children

and forced to eat dog food!

She's a chaos freak, Danny.

It's like the antimatter
equivalent of a control freak.

She needs to inject chaos
into any given situation,

doesn't care about the outcome.

Just the trouble she causes for everyone.

I am Bajorian, she's Cardassian.

She bites, I bite too.

What?

It is from Star Trek.

Cardassian and Bajorian.

They are two life forms that
try to be kind to each other,

but they can't help their nature.

Like the frog and the scorpion.

You know this tale.

It is Greek.

Look at yourself.

You're not even upset.

You don't even know how to get upset.

I just don't want to be in
love with anyone right now.

If you want to sleep with
her, just sleep with her.

I really don't give a shit anymore.

I don't wanna sleep with her.

Yeah, right!

Don't touch me.

Just don't.

[Danny] Where are you going?

You know, Danny, whatever happened

to your moral code of mateship?

Oh I reckon those rules were written

more with football buddies in mind.

One day, Danny, you're
gonna wake up old and grey

in a house full of dumb kids

living off fish fingers, bucket
bongs and social security.

You're gonna wake up, and
it's gonna hit you like a fist

right in the middle of
your stupid-looking face.

You're gonna wonder whatever
happened to your life.

(techno music)

Well I hope you're all

extremely satisfied with yourselves.

My boyfriend now thinks I'm gay.

My mother thinks I've
been in a car accident.

My boss thinks I'm in Melbourne.

And someone told my uni tutor
he could go and get fucked.

(typewriter clacking)

What are you feeling right now?

Desire.

[Man on TV] Yes.

She said we never talked anymore.

She said I never reveal of myself.

They are all very fit, aren't they?

They are all very, very fit.

Look at this crap!

Look at all the fat, ugly
whores that get on TV.

Why can't I get on fucking TV?

How can I reveal of myself?

What is there to reveal?

The little man behind the
curtain pulling all the strings?

Who wants to see that?

I've been to drama school, you know.

I am a bit of a babe, aren't I?

That's who I am, Gail.

That's what I am, right or wrong.

I can't change that.

Al Pacino.

I love that man.

My pathetic life
consists of sitting around,

waiting for imaginary
acting jobs to materialise,

eating myself stupid and throwing up

in the middle of the night.

Well, I'm sick of it, I tell you!

I'm sick of it!

I have something to declare.

I'm gay.

Do we have any lollies?

I said I was gay.

I'm gay.

That's nice, Dirk.

It is obvious, really.

Always thought you were.

I'd just like to say
that I've got a problem

with you all accepting my
homosexuality without question.

No wonder my suppressed heterosexual side

is in a spin all the time!

You all thought I was gay, even
when I was fucking straight!

Dirk, we think it's great, mate.

What's so fucking great
about being a poofter, Danny?

Nothing Dirk, just finish the bathroom.

That's just fucking typical, Daniel!

I'd like to declare I've
got a problem with that too.

You want me to put on a
fucking pink apron, Danny?

You want me to put on the
fucking pink washing-up gloves

and lick the boots of the hetero-fascist

sterility conspiracy thing?

No fucking way, pal!

I'm not some minty fucking queen,

lick the boots of you hetero fucks!

Oh, give the fag some hetero

foot massage routine when he comes in.

Bullshit!

Gay men are dying, Danny.

And you want me to clean the bath.

Dirk, just forget it, mate.

You don't mean that, do you, Danny?

What you really mean is,

all you filthy little arse bandits

should be nailed to a tree.

Isn't that so, Danny?

(sighs)

Dirk, this newly installed
sophisticated gay radar

of yours is picking up
shit from the cosmos

that just ain't fucking there.

I've got my own shit to worry about.

I've lived in 49 shared households

in what seems as many years.

I've been ripped off, raided, threatened,

burnt out, shot at, cheated on,

scabbed in every one of those years.

My beds are foam slabs on the floor.

My cupboards are stacks
of stolen milk crates.

I've lived with tent-dwelling bank clerks,

albino moontanners, nitro suckers,

psycho fucking drama queens, acid eaters,

mushroom farmers,
fucking brothel crawlers,

fridge pissers, hard-core
separatist lesbians,

and obscurely tiger-throated
Japanese girls!

And now the best friend I've ever had

in the fucking world won't
even fucking talk to me!

I'm in a psycho fucking
nightmare from hell

and I'm fucking fed up with it!

So I suggest pal,

that you tune in and chill fucking out.

(thumps)

Nobody asks me about
my problems, do they?

Nobody asks me about my loopy parents

and their endless fucking divorce case.

I've got to give evidence, you know.

They've both subpoenaed me, you know.

I didn't know.

You didn't ask, did you?

They're very, very fit.

You have to admit they're very, very fit.

Dirk's gay.

I always thought he was.

I baked some scones, if you want.

It's a new recipe.

(footsteps approaching)

[Taylor] You okay in
there, little buddy?

(poignant music)

(Taylor sighs)
♪ Who's gonna tell you when ♪

♪ It's too late ♪

[Taylor] Thought you might need
some supplies in there, little buddy.

Had to make everything flat for you.

♪ Can't go on ♪

♪ Thinking nothing's wrong ♪

♪ Who's gonna drive you home ♪

♪ Tonight ♪

[Nina] Fuck!

Fucking little jerk.

(sighs)
♪ Who's gonna pick you up ♪

♪ When you fall ♪

[Anya] Cigarette?

♪ Who's going to hang it up ♪

♪ When you call ♪

There is a man in a spaceship

floating above a planet
which is like a brain.

It can read from his mind.

The planet recreated his
dead wife from his memory.

But she wasn't exactly the same.

She was like a photocopy.

So he hates her.

He locks her in a room to be rid of her.

But she tears through the
door like if it was paper,

just to be with him.

She loves him but he hates her.

So she tries to kill
herself, but she can't die.

So she comes back to life
like the resurrection.

It's only when he sees the
pain she's going through

that he's able to love her

for what she is.

You understand?

♪ Who's gonna drive you home ♪

♪ Tonight ♪

♪ You know you can't go on ♪

♪ Thinking nothing's wrong ♪

♪ Who's gonna drive you home ♪

♪ Tonight ♪

(banging)

(Taylor clears throat)

Danny!

There once was a man who
used to masturbate so much

that he grew very fond of his hand.

(laughs) Hey, you're a writer, dude!

I'm a writer?

[Taylor] You're a writer.

Can't get much better
than Penthouse, dude.

(buzzing)

Sammy?

Flip, what are you doing here?

I couldn't handle it anymore, man.

It was like the fucking army in there.

When they told me I'd
have to make my own bed,

I didn't know they meant
make my own bed, you know?

Like, out of twigs and shit.

Shit.

Mr. Dostoyevsky, I presume?

I've just been reading one
of your novels, Fyodor.

What'd you think?

Bit depressing, actually.

I was going through a dark period.

I've had to brush up on all

my pop culture references, Fyodor.

Or is it Bragg?

Or maybe it just all adds up
to one Robert J. Corcoran.

Tea?

Letters for the oppressed minority.

That's not funny, Taylor.

Gay men aren't dying, you know.

What exactly does it mean, gay men?

$7,257 on rent and damages
to a house in Brisbane,

$8,329 owing to a Melbourne casino,

and $9,392 in credit card fraud.

Leaves a grand total of $24,979.

They are like very fit, aren't they?

They are all very, very fit.

It's a summons, Corcoran.

You're due to appear in
Darlinghurst District Court

tomorrow at 10 a.m.

Fucking little faggot!

Don't be late, Corcoran.

You can't afford any more fines, can you?

♪ Shout, man overboard ♪

They're gonna send me away, Flip.

No, it's not going to happen, man.

You're the only one.

Only one what?

The only one not into it.

Into what?

Well they said at the farm
that I had to find someone

who's not into it to hang out with.

Well I checked it out
man, everyone's into it.

Seems like it's an absolute must-have

to have on the CV, you know?

And you're the only one.

Only one not into it.

They're not going to send you away.

Been going through a lot
of emotions and stuff.

You know, like crying and stuff?

Been thinking a lot about things.

Like I was sitting in the common room

the other day watching a video and stuff,

and this video came on with a band

and an orchestra and shit.

And the tears just started
pouring out of me, mate.

I mean the way those cloths
floated downwards and stuff.

Even though we didn't
hang out together much,

I really appreciated you being there.

It was really great.

You're not upset with me, are you, mate?

I just didn't realise how
heavily into it I was.

Wanna know what the worst thing is?

I can't get an erection.

Can't get an erection, mate.

It's the medication, you know?

I love you, mate.

I love you too, Flip.

I'm gonna get something to eat, you want?

Oh jeez, I got the horn!

("Golden Brown")

♪ Golden brown, texture like sun ♪

♪ Lays me down, with my mind she runs ♪

♪ Throughout the night ♪

♪ No need to fight ♪

♪ Never a frown with golden brown ♪

♪ Every time just like the last ♪

♪ On her ship tied to the mast ♪

♪ To distant lands ♪

♪ Takes both my hands ♪

♪ Never a frown with golden brown ♪

Flip, turn the fucking TV off!

People are trying to sleep.

Flip, have some fucking consideration!

For Christ's sake, Flip!

Flipster?

Shitload of paperwork here, mate.

Shitload.

Must have happened right
in the middle of the Top 100.

Just like a junkie, eh?

He'll never know what hit
number one now, will he, eh?

(snorts)

Typical bloody junkie.

Did you know he was a junkie?

Don't touch anything
until the lab boys arrive.

Never know with these junkies.

Mm, you never know.

And don't eat the falafel.

("Golden Brown")

♪ Na na na na ♪

♪ Na na na na ♪

♪ Never a ♪

♪ Never a frown ♪

What's that mean?

Flip.

Flip's dead.

(melancholy music)

[Taylor] To Flip!

[All] To Flip!

♪ I don't believe in an
interventionist God ♪

See you around, dude.

♪ But I know, darling, that you do ♪

Just some buds, bud.

♪ But if I did, I would
kneel down and ask him ♪

The essentials of life, little buddy.

♪ Not to intervene ♪

Greater love hath no man, Flipmeister.

♪ Not to touch a hair on your head ♪

♪ Leave you as you are ♪

♪ He felt he had to direct you ♪

♪ Then direct you into my arms ♪

See you, Flip.

♪ Into my arms, O Lord ♪

♪ Into my arms, O Lord ♪

Goodbye, strange man.

♪ Into my arms, O Lord ♪

♪ Into my arms ♪

♪ And I don't believe in
the existence of angels ♪

♪ But looking at you, I
wonder if that's true ♪

I love you too, Flip.

♪ But if I did, I would
summon them together ♪

♪ And ask them to watch over you ♪

This is for you.

She opened it by mistake.

♪ To make bright and clear your path ♪

♪ And to walk like Christ
in grace and love ♪

♪ And guide you into my arms ♪

♪ Into my arms, O Lord ♪

We're off to Paris.

Anya says they take actresses

much more seriously over there.

♪ Into my arms, O Lord ♪

[Nina] I think I
should dye my hair black.

Don't you think I'd look like much more

of a babe with black hair?

We should go to the Cannes Film Festival.

There's all sorts of producers
and directors over there.

I'd love to network with
those sort of people.

Because I really think I belong.

Can I borrow your phone?

Yeah, can I speak to
Sergeant O'Neil, please?

Tell her it's about Robert J. Corcoran.

(twangy guitar music)

[Taylor] Fuck man, if I was gay,

I wouldn't be worrying about fucking all.

How could you, Taylor?

(Dirk cries)

[Nina] Everything's gonna be all right.

Now there's no National
voters or footballers here.

[Taylor] Oh, just trying
to do my straight man.

I've got something for you.

What?

Teletype paper.

(car engine starts)

What?

(laughs)

(siren wailing)

What?

Do you wanna get married?

Can't, gotta go out later.

I don't know if it's all
it's cracked up to be, anyhow.

There's just one more thing.

Mm?

Berserk, gaga, talking in tongues.

Well, you know, I may have
exaggerated that part a little.

("California Dreaming")

Getting some serious rays there, Flip?

- ♪ All the leaves are brown ♪
- Fore!

(thuds)

♪ And the sky is grey ♪
♪ And the sky is grey ♪

♪ I've been for a walk ♪
♪ I've been for a walk ♪

♪ On a winter's day ♪
♪ On a winter's day ♪

♪ I'd be safe and warm ♪
♪ I'd be safe and warm ♪

♪ If I was in L.A. ♪
♪ If I was in L.A. ♪

♪ California dreaming ♪
♪ California dreaming ♪

♪ On such a winter's day ♪

♪ Stopped into a church ♪

♪ I passed along the way ♪

♪ Well I got down on my knees ♪
♪ Got down on my knees ♪

♪ And I pretend to pray ♪

♪ I pretend to pray ♪

♪ You know the preacher liked the cold ♪

♪ Preacher liked the cold ♪

♪ He knows I'm gonna stay ♪

♪ Knows I'm gonna stay ♪

♪ California dreaming ♪
♪ California dreaming ♪

♪ On such a winter's day ♪

♪ All the leaves are brown ♪
♪ All the leaves are brown ♪

♪ And the sky is grey ♪
♪ And the sky is grey ♪

♪ I've been for a walk ♪
♪ I've been for a walk ♪

♪ On a winter's day ♪
♪ On a winter's day ♪

♪ If I didn't tell her ♪
♪ If I didn't tell her ♪

♪ I could leave today ♪
♪ I could leave today ♪

♪ California dreaming ♪
♪ California dreaming ♪

♪ On such a winter's day ♪

♪ California dreaming ♪

♪ On such a winter's day ♪

♪ California dreaming ♪

♪ On such a winter's day ♪

[Taylor] Fore!

(frog croaks)
Shit.