Squirrels (2018) - full transcript

(funky music)

- I first moved into this dump,

excuse me, lovely apartment in June.

It was a sweltering day.

I love that word, sweltering,

it kinda reminds me of
melting vanilla ice cream.

The rent's $2975 a month,

marked down from $3750.

What a bargain!

Wait you're not actually
filming this are you?

I first moved into this dump,



excuse me, lovely and
glamorous apartment in June.

It was a sweltering day.

The rent is $2975 a month,

marked down from $3750.

What a bargain for all this luxury!

Notice how every
apartment in New York City

is a "luxury" apartment these days?

It's luxury or it's the streets,

nothing in between.

Finding an apartment is hard enough,

actually getting that apartment

is damn near impossible.

You can't just pay first and
last and security deposit

and move in in New York anymore.



You have to make 40
times the rent in a year.

Which, for this dump,

excuse me, lovely, luxury apartment,

so intimate and convenient,

and such a prime location

in the heart of the East Village.

You know, where all the artists live.

(laughing)

So much character, so much life.

Vibrance, electric.

For this lovely apartment, marked down

to the bargain basement price

of just $2975 a month.

Multiply that by 40 and
you just have to make

$119,000 a year.

Yeah, that's not happening
being a part time DJ

and full time underground superstar.

Luckily, I was able to find two cute

art students to move in with me.

We still can't afford it.

We scrimp and save and scam

and steal our way from month to month.

Somehow we survive.

How was that?

- It was good.

But try to be a little more

natural.

- Natural?

I'm done.

(funky drone music)

Guys!

The rent is due next week!

- Working on it.

(sighs)

(funky music)

- We have a potential Share
B&B person this weekend.

Should I accept?

- Yes!
- Okay.

It's your turn to be the hostess.

- Already?

- Yes.

Tarik.

It's your turn to be the...

- Worm!

(softly chuckles)

(funky music)

- C'mon we're gonna be
late for our classes.

Damn it!

(knocking)

- [Sparkle] Yeah?

- [Tarik] C'mon, Sparkle.

- [Sparkle] Just a second!

(groans)

- C'mon, let's go.

(funky music)

- [Man] Tarik, what have
you got for us today?

(sighs)

- My parents and I were
walking down the street.

We were in Miami, I can't remember why.

I was just a little boy.

It was just after 9/11.

We were getting looks.

Scared white women grabbed their children

and held them close,

as if we would explode at any moment,

as if holding them in their frail arms

would make any difference.

My mother was horrified.

She wanted to go back to the hotel.

My father refused.

I saw him smile.

My father never smiled.

But he was smiling now

as he walked defiantly down the street.

He basked in the fear all around us.

Drunk with power, this sad, broken man

who had never so much as
cracked a smile in front of me,

he was smiling now.

And not just any smile.

a big shit eating grin.

My mother tried to pull me away from him.

My father reached down
and grabbed my hand.

My father never touched me,

not a pat on the head

or a slap across the face.

Nothing.

He was holding my hand now,

squeezing it tight as he
pulled me along with him.

His hand was strong,

calloused and rough,

dark, almost gray,

like elephant skin.

It felt good.

Damp and warm.

I wanted to curl up in
that hand and take a nap.

But he kept pulling me along.

We were going somewhere in a hurry.

I had no idea where then

and I have no idea where now.

I saw two men walk out of a building.

They were handsome,

wearing brightly colored
shirts and shorts.

One was white with sun bleached hair,

the other was dark like my father.

They took hold of each other

and something inside of me stirred.

My heart started pounding
as if for the first time.

They were holding each other so close,

the white one reached down and grabbed

the dark one's ass
through his cut off jeans.

My heart was fluttering.

I felt like I was flying, leaving my body,

then my father reached
over with his other hand

and covered my face.

His hand was warmer and damper,

wet even, as if drenched in sweat.

I could feel the blood
pounding through it.

I could still see through the
cracks of my father's hand.

The two men kissed.

Burrowing their tongues
in each others mouths.

My father's hand held me tighter,

and I struggled to breathe.

I opened my mouth gasping for air

and I could taste the salty sweet sweat

now dripping from my father's hand.

"Faggots."

I heard him say, "Faggots."

So softly.

I could barely hear him.

As if he was practicing the line,

trying to remember what to say.

Then he said it again,
shouting it this time.

"Faggots!"

My mother grabbed me, pulling
me away from my father.

I took one deep breath
and looked up at the men.

The white one yelled back,

"Fuck off, Al Qaeda."

Then the dark one joined in,

"Takes one to know one sweetie."

I looked up at my father,
and his face was flush red.

His forehead now dripping
that salty sweet sweat.

I saw his lip tremble ever so slightly,

as he said, in a calm low voice,

"Every last one of them.

"The world won't be safe

"until every last one of them is dead."

(footsteps clacking)

It's 2016.

I am dancing at the club.

I've had a few drinks.

I'm having fun.

It's when I hear the first gun shot.

There is panic on the dance floor.

Everyone runs in every direction,

suddenly unaware of the location
of the entrances and exits.

I hear more gunshots.

They sound like they're
coming from all around me,

like a surround sound demonstration

before the trailers start in a movie.

I see a lit doorway,

and I run towards it.

I am in the restrooms.

The gender neutral rest rooms.

There is no way out and
the sound of the gun shots

is definitely getting closer.

I see an open stall, and I run towards it,

opening the flimsy door,

closing it behind me, and locking it.

I sit down on the broken toilet seat.

With every new gun shot,
a scream is silenced

until there is no more screaming.

I can hear Lady Gaga over
the sound system, hiccuping.

(humming)

I'm not sure if it's
the latest dance remix

or if the track is skipping.

I hear more gun shots.

Closer now, just outside the restroom.

Then the door opens with a thud.

I pull my feet up off the
ground and onto the toilet seat.

Curl myself into a ball,

trying to make myself
as small as possible,

hoping that I will disappear.

The gunman is in the restroom now.

I hear a high pitched squeal,

then a deafening gunshot,

and then silence.

Then the gunman speaks.

"Every last one of them."

I recognize my father's voice immediately.

I hear his boots walk
up to my stall and stop.

He speaks again, louder this time,

"Every last one of them!"

He tries to open the door.

The lock holds but just barely.

There's no way out.

I take a deep breath.

I plant my feet on the ground

and sit up straight.

I wipe the tears off my cheeks

with the sleeve of my t-shirt.

He tries opening the door again,

shaking it violently,

grabbing it from above, and shaking it.

Miraculously the lock holds.

His voice is angry now, shouting,

"Every last one of them!"

I look at the door, and I am ready.

He kicks it, and it swings open.

He is in the stall now.

He sees me, recognizes me.

I see his mouth tremble ever so slightly.

I smile at him.

Tears are streaming down my face now.

His face hardens,

as he puts the barrel of
the gun to my forehead.

And he says in a soft, low voice,

"Every last one of them."

He pulls the trigger, and the gun clicks.

He is out of bullets.

He looks at me, as if
he's coming out of a daze,

and he smiles.

Right then,

just as I'm about to
comprehend that smile,

to understand the man behind it,

the other bullets come.

The police have finally arrived.

Hundreds of bullets scatter my father

all across that bathroom.

My father's final words,

"Every last one of them."

(light music)

- Hey.

- Hey.
- Come here.

I really liked your piece.

You know, your performance or whatever.

- Thanks.

- So.

Is it all true?

- Yeah.
- Oh, really?

That's intense.

So, I'm a painting major,

and I would love to paint you.

(chuckles)

- Okay.

- I'm Slade, by the way.

- I know who you are.

- Really?

- [Tarik] We're in the same class.

- Oh, yeah, sorry.

So, would you like to get
a coffee or something?

- You already have a coffee.

- I can get another one.

- I'm actually waiting for someone, so.

- Oh, okay.
- I can't.

He's not really someone, you know?

He's just my roommate.

- Oh, good.

(funky music)

Well, congratulations,
again, on the piece.

- Thanks.

- [Slade] I guess I'll see you around.

(funky music)

- [Tarik] Hi!

- Hey.
- Thank you.

- What was that all about?

- [Tarik] What was what all about?

- Slade?

- Well, he really liked my piece.

- Oh, yeah?

(laughing)

How did your performance
spoken word thing go?

- Not great, but Slade really liked it.

- Well, that's something, I guess.

- I think he was just coming on to me.

- Well, he must have really liked it then.

- Since when is he gay?

- Oh, he just doesn't believe in labels.

He's an equal opportunity opportunist.

What kind of a name is Slade, anyway?

I mean, who or what does he think he is?

Painting majors can be so pretentious.

I hate them.

We hate them.

Don't we?

- Yes.

(light music)

- Well, this is it.

- Wow, it's huge.

- Really, you think so?

- You should see my place in
London, it's half the size.

- Yeah, well, you have the money?

- Yes, of course.

Okay, here it is.

- Great.

Well, it's all yours.

Make yourself at home.

And be careful with the toilet.

It's a bit wobbly.

And the shower is either
scalding hot or freezing.

The gas was shut off, we had a leak,

but at least you won't blow up.

(laughing)

- Okay, anything else?

- No, I think that's about it.

Yeah, I think that's it, okay.

Oh!
- Keys?

- Oh!

(laughing)

How could I forget that?
- Thank you!

- Yeah, I am DJing tonight,

around the corner at
The Cock on 2nd Avenue.

Stop by, and I'll buy you a drink.

- Oh, sounds fun, thanks.
- Bye!

- [Harry] Okay, I'll see
you later, I'll come.

Okay, goodnight, bye.

(snaps fingers)

(light music)

(techno club music)

(door clicking)

- [Tarik] Great place.

- [Harry] Thanks.

(smooching)

- Can I use your bathroom?

- Sure.

It's over there.

(rustling)

(sighs)

- One, two, three.

(clanking)

51, 52.

59.

(exhales)

(snaps fingers)

(rustling)

(groaning)

(sighs)

(phone ringing)

(grunts)

(deep breathing)

(eerie music)

(water running)

(window scraping)

Don't give me that look.

(eerie music)

(grunts)

Good morning!

You were amazing last night.

- I was?

- Oh, yeah.

- Thank you.
- Sorry, I have to run.

- [Harry] Wait, can't you stay,

have some breakfast or something?

- No, sorry, I'm running late for work,

but I'll see you.

- Bye!

Wait, what's your name?

Amazing.

(light funky beat music)

(phone ringing)

(grunting)

Hello?

Yes, I'm fine.

(laughing)

Everything's fine.

Oh, the place is brilliant.

It's very quiet and cozy.

The hostess is very
friendly and accommodating.

It's New York, so everything is a little

rough around the edges

but in a charming way.

Oh and I met someone last night.

(laughing)

Yes.

I know.

Oh, don't say that.

Yes, my first night in New York,

and I've already shagged someone.

I don't want to brag or anything,

but apparently I was incredible.

Unfortunately I had quite a bit to drink,

so I don't actually remember any of it.

I went through quite a
bit of cash last night.

Don't say that, you're terrible.

(laughing)

I suppose things must be
awfully expensive here.

(funky music)

You really are a nasty
bitch, you know that?

Yes, you are, that's
why I love you, darling.

Oh, don't say that.

I miss you too, bye.

(funky music)

(whispering)

(sighs)

(shouting)

Son of a bitch!

(funky music)

- What's up with him?

- He's working on getting us a place

to crash tonight.

- We're in!

(punk music)

(knocking)

- Hi, how are you?
- Hey, nice to see you.

- Welcome to my abode.

Who are you?

- I'm in your class, douche bag.

- Nice to meet you, douche bag.

Who are you, beautiful?

(sighs)

- What the hell kind of name is Slade?

- It's my name, what's yours?

- Sparkle.

No comment.

(door clicking)

♪ Hello darling, I'm so alone ♪

♪ Hello daddy, I'm sad to the bone ♪

♪ Need some cherries ♪

♪ Eat some with me ♪

♪ I just feel so damn ♪

- This will be good
until the next morning.

- Yeah, it's not his charming personality.

- I'll drink to that.

(laughing)

(bottle clinking)

(muffled mumbling)

(punk music)

♪ You're my sugar ♪

♪ You're my God ♪

♪ I want you, just my luck ♪

♪ I'm your angel ♪

- Who are these people?

- Just people we go to school with.

Rich, vacant, idiots.

- Uh-huh, this isn't going to work.

- It's better than the streets.

- Is it?

Let's get out of here.

- What about Tarik?

- What about him?

- I think I should stay.

- Oof, okay.

- Shut up.

- Okay, I won't say
anything, but I'm going.

Come help me find my coat.

♪ Goodbye sinners, no one will know ♪

♪ Goodbye saints, nowhere to go ♪

♪ Don't need lemons ♪

This doesn't work.

(laughing)

♪ You're my sugar, you're my God ♪

♪ I want you, just my luck ♪

♪ I'm your angel, I'm your doll ♪

♪ We're in heaven ♪

Are you sure you wanna stay?

- Yeah, I'll be alright.

- He's gonna break your heart.

- I know.

- I'm gonna go.

♪ We're so rich ♪

♪ We're so rich ♪

♪ We're so rich ♪

Bye, Eddie.

(punk music)

♪ Hello baby, what's in store ♪

♪ Hello momma I adore ♪

♪ Need some fun, need some thrills ♪

♪ I feel our empty chills ♪

♪ I feel our empty chills ♪

♪ I feel our empty chills ♪

(light music)

Hi.

- Want a smoke?

- I don't smoke or drink.

- What do you do?

- Lots of other things.

- That sounds interesting.

- Yeah.

What are you doing here in
the cold all by yourself?

- My girlfriend has a client over.

- I have a Share B&B guest in my place.

- It's that time of the month, huh?

- [Sparkle] Hm?

- Rent's due.
- Oh, yeah, right.

- With how much they keep raising it,

it won't be long until there
aren't any artists left

in this neighborhood at all.

- Yeah, there aren't that many
artists left as it is now.

- You're an artist, though, right?

- Yeah, I'm a DJ and performance artist.

- Very nice.

I draw and paint in my spare time.

- What kind of things
do you like to paint?

- It's kind of abstract,

dark, moody.

I call it confrontational art.

- I like confrontation.

Yeah.

(light music)

- It looks like they're finished.

I better go.

I have a client coming over next.

- What kind of client?

- Well, I'm a tantric shaman.

- Of course you are.

- See you around.
- See ya.

(light music)

(punk rock music)

- Hey, you want to make out?

- What?
- You want to make out?

- I heard you the first time.

- Well?

(bottle clinks)

- Sure.

Why not?

(picture crashes)

(funky music)

(grunting)

I'm going, you coming?

(grunts)

(shoes clacking)

(door squeaking)

(knocking)

- [Harry] Hello, I'm almost finished.

- Ah, no worries, it's no rush.

How was your stay?

- Great, interesting.

I lost all my credit cards,

and most of my cash is missing,

and I think I may have
been inadvertently involved

in sort of human trafficking
or smuggling operation.

- Oh, wow, sounds interesting.

(zipping)

Mind if I make some coffee?

- Sure, go ahead, it's your home.

I hope I can get on my plane,

and I'm not on some sort of watch list.

- Uh-huh.
- it's been crazy.

- Well, I'm glad you had a good time.

- You Americans are all insane.

No offense.

- None taken.

Oh, can you please remember
to give me a good review,

and I'll give you one?

- [Harry] Yes, of course.

- Great.

(cup clanking)

- [Harry] Here are the keys.

- [Sparkle] Well, I hope
you have a safe flight.

- [Harry] Thanks, if I'm actually allowed

to get on the plane, that is.

Thanks, Sparkle, bye.

- Toodles, bye.

(funky music)

(sighs)

What's this?

Oh, you left your jacket.

(gate clanking)

It'll be cuter on Eddie, anyway.

(slurps)

(phone dinging)

(funky music)

(phone ringing)

(footsteps pattering)

Here's to surviving another month.

(mugs clinking)

(eerie music)

(knocking)

Hi, you must be Martin.

- Yes.
- Come in, come in.

I'm Sparkle, welcome to New York.

Do you have the money?

- Yes, of course.

(chuckles)

- Great, thanks.

Here's the bedroom.

The kitchen, and there's the bathroom.

- It's tiny, huh?

- Well, that's New York for you.

There's the keys.

And this is the wifi code.

We use the bar's,

so it can be a bit sporadic,

but it's really fast when it's on.

- Okay.

- Oh, and this is super important.

You have to wear this when you're entering

and leaving the apartment.

They've installed security cameras.

They're watching us, making
sure that no one's Share B&Bing.

They've threatened to evict anyone who is,

so we just have to use a little caution.

- Okay, I understand.

- Great, here's an extra
one, just in case you...

Get lucky.

(snickers)

Oh, you don't have to wear
it inside of the apartment.

- I know, I'm just trying it on.

- [Sparkle] Okay, great, thanks.

Can I get you a coffee?

- No, thanks.

- How about a beer?

- No, it's a little early for me.

- Okay, well, they're in the fridge.

Help yourself later.

And speaking of later,

I'm DJing at a club around the corner.

I can put your name on the guest list,

and get you some drinks, if you like.

There should be some cute boys there.

- Okay, sure.

- Great.

(chuckles)

♪ From outer space ♪

♪ Destiny from outer space ♪

♪ Destiny from outer space ♪

♪ Destiny from outer space ♪

- Hey.

So, have you seen Tarik?

- No.

He should be here, though.

But you know him, he's probably
fucking around somewhere.

- What?

- Nothing.

Hey, buy me a drink.

- Hey.

Give me two vodka sodas.

(funky techno music)

- Cheers.

- So, what do you mean?

- Oh, you really are in love, aren't you?

- Fuck off.

I'm just worried about him.

- Oh, everyone's worried about Tarik.

Poor, poor Tarik.

You know it's not true.

The story he made up about
his terrorist father.

His parents live in New
Jersey, his dad's a dentist.

- Bullshit.

- Have you seen his teeth?

- I still don't believe you.

- Look it up.

Gotta go.

(funky techno music)

♪ Destiny from outer space ♪

♪ Destiny from outer space ♪

♪ Destiny from outer space ♪

♪ Destiny from outer space ♪

♪ Destiny from outer space ♪

♪ Destiny from outer space ♪

♪ Destiny from outer space ♪

(drowned out mumbling)

- [Slade] Fuck off!

- [Man] Wait, come back!

Really?

♪ Electronic digital ♪

♪ Electronic digital ♪

♪ Electronic digital ♪

♪ Electronic digital ♪

♪ Electronic digital ♪

♪ Electronic digital ♪

♪ Electronic ♪

♪ Who ♪

♪ What ♪

♪ Why ♪

♪ When ♪

♪ Where ♪

♪ Who ♪

♪ What ♪

♪ Why ♪

♪ When ♪

♪ Where ♪

♪ Who ♪

♪ What ♪

♪ Why ♪

♪ When ♪

♪ Where ♪

♪ Who ♪

(laughing)

- What a charming apartment you have.

(laughing)

- Thank you.

- Mind if I get a drink?

- Sure.

Yeah, help yourself.

I have to pee like a racehorse.

(chuckling)

- Oh, be careful of the flush,
it gets a little wobbly.

- How do you know that?

Have you been here before?

- No, it's just all the toilets

in New York are wobbly.

- Oh, okay.

(toilet flushing)

(door clanking)

Ooh, those drinks

were stronger than I thought.

(laughing)

- Yeah.

Three, two, one.

Timber!

(bottle clanking)

(rustling)

(funky music)

What did I tell ya?
- Alright, alright.

♪ No one ♪

♪ Can stop us, they try ♪

♪ No one ♪

♪ Can stop us, they try ♪

♪ No one ♪

♪ Can stop us, they try ♪

♪ No one ♪

♪ Can stop us, they try ♪

♪ It's so good ♪

♪ It's so right ♪

♪ To shake your body, baby ♪

♪ All through the night ♪

♪ It's so good ♪

♪ It's so right ♪

♪ To shake your body, baby ♪

♪ All through the night ♪

♪ All through the night ♪

♪ All through the night ♪

♪ All through the night ♪

♪ All through the night ♪

♪ All through the night ♪

♪ All through the night ♪

♪ All through the night ♪

♪ All through the night ♪

♪ All through the night ♪

♪ All through the night ♪

♪ All through the night ♪

♪ All through the night ♪

- You guys want some room service?

(grunting)

Hi, I'd love to order room service.

Yeah, can we get two steak and eggs

and an oatmeal with almond milk.

Oh, and, no, three coffees.

Thanks.

(phone beeps)

(phone ringing)

- Who the hell is calling?

- Hello?

No, just put it on the card.

Wait, what?

Oh, okay, okay.

No, no.

Yeah, just shut up, I'll be right down.

Okay, bye.

We gotta go.

- What do you mean we gotta go?

- [Eddie] We gotta go, prince
charming reported the card.

- [Sparkle] Whoa, we gotta go.

- Stolen?
- Yeah.

(funky music)

(keys jangling)

- I hope you had a pleasant stay.

- Yeah, right.

- Be sure to give me a good review,

and I'll do the same for you.

- I'm onto your little scam.

- What?

- Don't play dumb.

You're getting a nasty review from me.

You're lucky I don't call the
cops on you and your cohorts.

- Cohorts?

What on earth do you mean?

Please don't do that,

I think there's been some
type of misunderstanding.

Let's talk about this.

- Unbelievable.

(door slams)

- Have a good day.

(funky music)

(gasps)

- You scared the shit out of me!

(shushing)

- Sparkle's sleeping.

- What are you doing up?

- Nothing.

What are you doing up?

- I couldn't sleep.

Sparkle is right there.

- Come on, now.

(funky music)

Morning.

- What are you two smiling about?

Don't answer that.

I don't wanna know.

They sent me a new lease yesterday.

They're raising our rent by $995.

- What?!

How can they possibly raise it that much?!

- Oh, well, they can do
whatever the hell they want.

- Fuck.

Where are we gonna move to now?

- We'll figure something out.

Don't worry about it.

We still have some time left
on the old lease, don't we?

- Three months.

- [Eddie] Three months!

See, that's some time.

A lot of time.

- Have you guys seen those bad reviews

we're getting on Share B&B?

- Yes.

I don't want to think
about that right now.

When it shits, it shits diarrhea.

- Too vivid.

- Is it?

- [Together] Yes!

(funky music)

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it 'cause you got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ Just cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook in the cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it 'cause you got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ Just ♪

(squirrel chirping)

(funky music)

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the cook in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it 'cause you got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ Just cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook in the cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook in the cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it in the pot ♪

♪ Cook it 'cause you got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ You got it ♪

♪ Just ♪

- What are you doing?

- [Tarik] I don't want to talk to you.

- What?

Slow down, what's happening?

- [Tarik] You told Slade I
made up that whole story?

(door clicks)

- No, I--

- [Tarik] Don't...

Don't lie to me.

- Okay, yeah.

But c'mon, everyone was
gonna find out eventually.

- [Tarik] Think I don't know that?

I had a plan.

- Well, you didn't tell me about it.

- I didn't think I had to.

(clanking)

- You're right.

Okay, I'm sorry.

It's just...

Slade is such an asshole.

- Think I didn't know that?

You think I give a fuck about Slade?

I don't.

He doesn't matter.

But he told everyone.

Including my professor.

And he told the department head.

And he told my parents.

(scoffs)

- Shit.
- Yeah.

They're not gonna pay
for my tuition anymore.

So I'm dropping out of school.

And I'm gonna move home to New Jersey.

Go to community college there

and work for my dad.

- [Eddie] What?

That's crazy.

You don't have to move out!

We'll figure something out.

- It's finished.

We're finished.

- Don't.

I'm sorry.

Let me fix it.
- No.

- I promise.

- No more promises, alright?

(lips smacking)

Take care of yourself.

Tell Sparkle I said bye.

(funky music)

- Come on, get up now.

- Leave me alone.

- [Sparkle] You've been moping
around this bed for days,

and I'm sick of it!

- I don't feel good.

- Well, that's too goddamn bad.

You're coming to my show
tonight, and that's final.

(grunts)

- Okay!

Okay, I'm up.

- Good.

Now get dressed and
help me with my makeup.

Sex is simple.

It has a definite
beginning, middle, and end.

And love is something else.

It sneaks up on you.

Takes control of you.

And once you're lulled
into its complacency,

it starts slipping away.

You try to take it back,

but it's too late.

That's when the fights start happening.

And the bitterness and the resentment.

It's best to just let it go.

Enjoy it, cherish it while it lasts.

But when it's over, let it be over.

- You have no heart.

- Oh, I have a heart.

And believe me, I feel pain
just as much as you do.

But the heart will heal
itself, if you let it.

- It's not that easy.

- Yes, it is.

(sighs)

- Okay.

Where's your lighter?

- It's in my purse.

(opera singing)

(applause)

(rustling)

(bird flailing)

(sirens blaring in distance)

- Everything is for sale now.

Or rather, on loan.

You don't own anything anymore.

Everything is shared.

If you have home or an apartment,

you share it with
strangers to pay your rent.

You become a hotel,

a maid,

a servant in your own home.

You think about your guests
and what they would like,

not what you want.

You don't matter.

You fade into the background.

You worry about reviews
and how many likes you get.

If you have a car you share that,

you drive drunk rich idiots
around to pay for it.

The insurance, the gas, the upkeep.

You provide water and mints

and worry about your score.

Just one click away
from losing everything.

If you have anything, you sell it on Ebay

to pay your credit card,
internet, and phone bills,

making sure you get it out on time

and in the right condition.

You must stay above average, above 90%.

It's a full time, 24/7 job.

Buying and selling and renting and sharing

and branding and rating and posting

and liking and reviewing and loading

and unloading and shipping and receiving

and building and growing
and on and on and on.

If you have a decent body,
you let people see it,

use it, abuse it,

dismiss it, play with it,

destroy it, so you can
pay your gym membership,

doctor, your dentist, and plastic surgeon

to fix it so that you can continue

to have the decent body.

You sell your eggs to pay off creditors.

You sell your sperm to
help your credit score.

You've given too much blood,
they won't take any more.

You sell whatever organs you can spare

to pay your water,

gas, and electric bill.

How much liver do you need really?

How many kidneys?

Lungs?

Eyes?

Legs?

Arms?

Do you really need a heart?

You just keep selling things

until one day you have
nothing and are nothing.

You simply disappear.

At least you don't have to worry

about funeral and burial cost.

(sighs)

(rustling)

- Is this the last of it?

- Yeah, that's it.

(door clicking)

I'm gonna miss you.

- Don't miss me, remember me.

- We had some good times.

- Yeah, we did, didn't we?

- You sure you don't need help packing

or clearing the place out?

- No, I think I'm just
gonna throw most of it out

or I'm gonna let the
landlord deal with it.

I don't need any of this crap.

- You take care of yourself.

- You too.

(funky music)

- Sorry, didn't mean to scare you.

- [Sparkle] No, you're fine.

- Have you decided where you're going?

- South, like the birds.

Maybe Florida or Mexico,

Honduras, or Brazil.

Maybe even the South Pole.

- It's cold down there.

- Yeah, I'll be alright.

Your girlfriend got another client over?

- No.

She left me.

I'm just smoking out here, out of habit.

- Oh, I'm sorry.

- Don't be.

It's for the best.

Hey, do you want to come
up to my place for...

Well, I know you don't drink or smoke,

but how about something else?

- Sure, why not?
- Cool.

♪ Sincerely yours ♪

♪ Who cares what people are saying ♪

♪ Completely yours ♪

♪ It's not a game that I'm playing ♪

♪ Let's just but us a car ♪

♪ And drive, yeah ♪

♪ Let's just start us another life, yeah ♪

♪ Let's go, have fun when we are young ♪

♪ Now we are just waiting for ♪

♪ The signal to change, yeah ♪

♪ This is love ♪

♪ And true love never changes ♪

♪ This is why ♪

♪ I'm not afraid of saying ♪

♪ I don't wanna spend my life ♪

♪ Doing anything but touching you ♪

♪ And that is just what I will do ♪

(funky music)

♪ I don't wanna spend my life ♪

♪ Doing anything ♪

♪ Why can't you see ♪

♪ I just can't see anybody ♪

♪ Except for you ♪

♪ It happened all of a sudden ♪

♪ Let's just buy us a car and drive yeah ♪

♪ Let's just start us another life yeah ♪

♪ Let's go, have fun while we are young ♪

♪ Now we are just waiting for ♪

♪ The signal to change yeah ♪

♪ This is love ♪

♪ And true love never changes ♪

♪ This is why ♪

♪ I'm not afraid of saying ♪

♪ I don't wanna spend my life ♪

♪ Doing anything but touching you ♪

♪ And that is just what I will do ♪

(funky music)