Queer as Folk (2000–2005): Season 4, Episode 8 - Episode #4.8 - full transcript

Well, look who it is.

Hey, Vic.

What the fuck are you doing here?

I believe that's my line.

Sorry.

Shall we take it again?

What the fuck are you doing here?

W... we're in Babylon, right?

In case you forgot, the Great Writer-in-the-Sky recently wrote me out...

permanently.

Huh. Then where the fuck are we?



Well, let's see.

You've got one of two choices.

If this is your heaven, it must be my hell.

What kind of an attitude is that,

considering we have so much in common?

Like what?

Well, it ain't two testicles.

Turns out you're everything you never wanted to be, kiddo.

Old, diseased...

and imperfect.

Mr. Kinney?

Mr. Kinney.

You're in recovery.

How do you feel?



I'm having a ball.

I am so not looking forward to this.

What, meeting a big Hollywood director?

No. Going shopping with my mother.

At least she's getting out of the house.

Yeah. Which means I get to sit around a dressing room

with a bunch of ladies parading around in their girdles and bras,

telling her which outfit looks best.

Judging from TV, I thought that's one of the few things we queers are good for.

If Brett Keller makes "Rage" into a movie, are we going to be rich?

Beyond our wildest, most improbable dreams.

Right on. Then we get to spend all his money.

Yeah.

Can you get me an autographed picture of Cameron Diaz?

She's fucking hot.

Wouldn't you rather have one of Leo or Toby?

Hunh. Later.

Hey, learn something.

I've got to stop at the post office, and mail off a couple more manuscripts.

Good luck.

Yeah, you too.

Hey.

Huh?

Don't I get a kiss?

Thanks.

It's too small.

Too plain.

Too fancy.

That's what she used to say when she'd go dress shopping.

Well, look at it this way.

At least you don't have to zip her up.

This is the one.

This is it!

Jesus, ma, it's like Mount Rushmore.

Ah, my favourite.

Hmm, bet he says that about all the tombstones.

The angel Gabriel,

welcoming god's children at the heavenly gates.

Hope she doesn't want to buy the children too.

How much something like this run?

Oh, that's, uh, 27 thousand.

For a hood ornament?

It's solid marble, sir.

Guaranteed to last forever.

At that price, it better.

Ma, you're not serious.

Your uncle Vic was a size queen. He'd have loved it.

I'm sure he would be perfectly happy with just a simple headstone.

What, the kind like they put on a pauper's grave?

No fucking way!

Everybody who comes to Lakeview cemetery is going to see

how much Vic Grassi was loved by his family.

How do you plan to pay for it?

I'll cash in my retirement fund. I-I could take out a third on the house.

I can get a couple of extra shifts at the diner.

You practically work 24-7 as it is.

This is insane.

I'm not going to let you spend your last cent...

Since when do you tell me what I can and cannot do?

This is for my brother,

and it's my money,

and I can spend it any goddamn fucking way I choose.

Wrap it up.

Can I have some more toast?

Eggs over easy, bacon and brown, French toast up.

Justin, when you have a minute, please.

I need a grilled cheese.

Here's the food, guys.

About time. We only ordered yesterday.

What'd you have to do, send to France for my omelette?

I'm sorry, guys. Things are nuts without Deb.

I don't know about the nuts, but where's my side of bacon?

Shit.

Coming right up.

I thought Jews didn't eat pork.

They waive that law for pregnant lesbians second Tuesday of every month.

Greetings, serfs and vassals.

- Ah, Brian. - Brian!

How was your trip?

In-fucking-credible!

I hope that one day, you too will be able to experience the wonders of Ibiza.

The sea and the beach...

the men?

Did I not mention that?

Could I have some coffee?

Black, no sugar.

For someone who's just got back from sunny Spain, you're not very tanned.

Um...

it rained practically every day.

But I found plenty to do indoors.

Yeah, I'll bet.

Here's your bacon.

You're back.

And you're here.

Told you I would be, didn't I?

Um, so how was your trip?

The weather sucked.

But so did the men.

I'd love to hear about it, but I have to go to class.

I know someone who has to get his ass to the office

before his boss has his head.

Don't worry, I'll finish this for you.

Want a lift?

That's okay. I'm sure you have plenty of more important things to do.

I was going to send you a postcard.

But the post office was on strike.

I meant to call.

But your cell phone died and you didn't have your charger.

How did you know that?

You don't have to make up excuses.

As long as you got whatever it was, out of your system.

It's out, all right.

By the way, I...

I missed you.

Prove it.

You're going to have to do better than that.

I'm still not convinced.

Hmmm. Okay.

Okay, I believe you.

Um, I'll see you tonight?

Mmm, if I'm in town.

Are you going somewhere?

Hollywood.

Oh.

Note in particular the luminosity of the skin tones,

giving the young woman an almost...

ethereal quality.

If you're in the market for a French impressionist girlie painting,

nobody does titties and behinds better than Renoir.

I'll keep that in mind.

I was just about to sell that.

It's a sentimental piece of horseshit.

Miranda, put it over there on that table, honey.

Thatta girl.

Now get me a ham and cheese on rye.

Sure.

Yeah.

If anybody knows about titties and behinds, it's you.

Whoa, whoa, easy, killer. I don't want another pop in the kisser.

Oh, don't tell me it still hasn't healed.

Actually, I just wore it so you'd feel sorry for me.

Ow!

It almost worked.

So what's all this?

Decided to let you show my stuff.

Hmm, but why, after I punched you?

'Scuse me.

What?

I already gave you money, you heartless bitch.

Oh, you want more?

Work the streets like the whore that you are.

My wife.

We're estranged.

I gathered.

Actually, all my ex-wives and I are estranged.

I'm not surprised.

If I had any brains, I'd be a lesbian like you.

Why's that?

All the pussy you want, and no overhead.

You're remarkable.

Yeah, that's what people say.

Mostly greedy wives and gold diggers.

You know,

you have no idea

what a pleasure it is

to finally meet a woman who wants nothing from me,

except to show my work.

By the way, do you know how to cook?

I happen to be an excellent cook.

You think one of them even knew how to turn on a stove?

So... ah... when are you gonna invite me home for dinner?

When I first saw "Rage",

I said, "finally, somebody's created an honest-to-god gay superhero

you know, who's out, who's got a boyfriend, who actually fucks."

Yeah, well, we figured if we were going to do it,

we might as well do it all the way.

And you have.

You've given every kid who's ever been bullied,

who had to keep his true identity a secret but somehow managed to survive,

his own crusader,

his own role model.

Oh, I wish there was something like this when I was a kid.

Thank you, Mr. Keller.

Please, Brett. And I should be thanking you.

Um, however,

we do have a couple of concerns.

That someone might want to change things.

You mean like make Rage straight?

I will personally chop the dick off any studio executive who even tries.

I want this film to be as gritty and as dark and as edgy as your comic.

And as for Rage,

every actor in Hollywood is going to want to play him.

I... I thought straight actors won't take gay roles.

Ah... nobody's going to turn this one down.

So, who do you picture?

Johnny, Ashton, Matt?

Brian.

Brian?

It's my boyfriend.

And my best friend. We based the character after him.

Is he as gorgeous as Rage?

Some people think so.

Most people think so.

Well, I'll have to meet him,

you know, just to get an idea.

Uh, what about tomorrow night?

We could all go to Babylon.

Uh, it's a dance club.

They're having a wet willie contest.

Who said there's nothing to do in Pittsburgh?

I was going to fly back to L.A. Tomorrow, but, uh...

Sorry.

Colin.

Farrell.

How would you like to save gayopolis, huh?

What do you think of this?

"Speak softly and carry a big dick."

Hmm, cute.

How about, uh, "eat this"?

Where'd you see that one?

Right here.

Oh. No thanks, honey.

Would you eat a little something, please?

Maybe later.

Here, let me do that. I'm a little rusty.

I ought to get back in shape for tomorrow.

Are you sure you want to go back so soon?

Maybe you should give yourself more time.

Vic's angel is not going to pay for itself.

And he's going to have the best-looking grave in that cemetery.

Who the hell is that?

It's probably my son trying to talk me out of it again.

Well, you can tell him...

never mind, I'll tell him myself.

Do I detect a detective?

Hi, Emmett.

I don't give a shit what you say, Michael. I'm...

Carl.

Hello, Debbie.

Um, we got your flowers.

It was very thoughtful of you to remember Vic.

He was a nice guy.

He liked you too.

Forgive me, I... I haven't had time to write a note.

I understand.

Do you want to come in?

We've got some fruitcake left over from Christmas.

Emmett lives here now.

I got to have somebody bugging the shit out of me.

Actually, I just stopped by to see if you'd like to go out and grab a bite to eat.

Talk about angels.

She'd love to, wouldn't you, Deb?

Just have her back by a decent hour.

Thank you, uh, Carl,

but I'm starting back to work at the diner tomorrow.

Maybe some other time.

He loves it. He fucking loves it.

He says it's genius.

That's nice.

He also swears that no matter what,

the characters are going to stay exactly like they are in the comic:

Hard-assed, edgy and queer.

Great. Huh.

Oh, get this.

When we told him we based the character of Rage on you,

he says, "I have to meet this guy."

So we made plans to go to Babylon tomorrow night.

Contingent, of course, on your availability.

Well, I'll have to get my tights back from the cleaners.

What, did you hurt yourself?

Must've pulled a muscle in Ibiza.

Hmm. Yeah. I bet I can guess which one.

You know, you look really tired.

Just jetlag.

I'm fabuloso, senor.

Wish I could say the same thing about the shorts.

Hey, don't jack off in there.

I have other plans.

Brian, you want me to get the phone?

Leave me a message.

Hello, Mr. Kinney, this is dr. Rabinowitz from the Johns Hopkins oncology center.

I'd like to discuss your post-surgery options,

so please give me a call at 410-555-4832.

Bri...

When I told my dear Aunt Fay that...

I wanted to paint her something special for he.
80th birthday,

she says, "Sammy, I never liked your paintings,

but the bedroom could sure use a fresh coat."

Sounds like my Aunt Rita.

Well, you know what they say about family. They never appreciate your work.

Ah, not in this house.

I love Lindsay?s paintings.

You paint?

I dabble.

Uh-huh. Why didn't you tell me?

That's like saying to Jonas Salk,

"I've been working on a vaccine in my basement."

She's far too modest, so I'll boast for her.

Mel!

Shut up.

She went to Carnegie Mellon,

had her paintings in a few exhibits.

I'm impressed.

Oh, don't be. That was years ago.

Why don't you show Sam?

No. Absolutely not.

I'm sure that she is very shy about letting anyone see her work, which I totally understand.

Thank you, Sam.

But I say, "get over it."

Every artist is a self-centred, egomaniacal fascist.

So, spare me the modesty shit. Hm?

I'm so embarrassed.

Come on.

How many times do you have a famous artist to critique your work,

share his creative insight?

What do you think, Sam?

Pretty colours.

That it?

I like the... the... the doodle in the corner.

Oh...

cute.

"Cute".

I think Sam?s seen enough.

Why are you asking me? What the fuck do I know about other people's art? I just make my own.

Fair enough.

More importantly...

what do you think?

I think they're academic, derivative, uninspired.

And that's pretty much the same reason why I stopped painting.

Well, something must have inspired you once.

There's this.

I love this.

Oh yeah.

There was this old homeless man I used to pass every day on my way to class.

His face was lined and haunted,

as if he were staring at death,

or worse, the failure of his life.

I don't know why. I had to sketch him.

Hey. What do you think? I thought I'd put him out front when the next issue comes out.

What's wrong? Don't you like him?

Did you know?

Huh?

Did you know?

Know what?

About Brian.

He didn't go to Ibiza.

Well, where'd he go? South beach? Cancun?

Johns Hopkins.

It's a hospital in Baltimore.

I know what it is.

What was he doing there?

There was a message from a dr. Rabinowitz on his machine...

checking up on his surgery...

and to discuss follow-up treatment.

So I called the hospital to see who doctor Rabinowitz is

and he's an oncologist...

who specializes in testicular cancer.

Oh, god.

So you really didn't know?

Well, if he didn't tell you and he didn't tell me, then who did he tell?

My guess is nobody.

That he has cancer?

Well, I'm sure if he wanted us to know, he would've told us.

What are we supposed to do?

Just keep our mouths shut? Act like we don't know anything?

If that's what he wants, then that's exactly what we're going to do.

Endovir's sales are up 15%

since we launched their last campaign.

And they'd like to re-book for next month's issue of "The Advocate" as well as...

"Poz" and... "Heat".

So, Ted, we're going to need rates.

Oh, right on it.

And we're also going to need a new campaign to follow this one.

I already have some sketches for you to look over.

Yeah, and I've got copy to go with them.

Nice going.

Now, what about, uh, brown athletics?

Did we...

get the contracts?

Came in yesterday with a 10-grand deposit.

Already in the bank.

Brian? You okay?

Brian?

Yeah.

Yeah, I just, uh...

excuse me for just one second?

Brian?

I'm fine.

Well, you sure as hell don't look it, you practically fainted in there.

Yeah, I'm just a little tired from my trip, that's all.

Well, maybe you should go home. I mean, we can finish this tomorr...

I said I'm fine.

Now let's finish the goddamn meeting.

You don't have to be so testy.

One pink plate,

one meatloaf.

Uh, pot pie.

Pot pie. Sorry, first day back and all.

So who in the fuck had the meatloaf?

Meatloaf!

What did you do, change tables?

Sorry, honey. There you go.

How's my favourite personal service professional?

Except, of course, for Carlos at the house of massage.

I'm doing fine.

Well, I thought if you're done, I'd escort you home.

Well, how "tray" gallant.

But I don't get off till 1:30.

Oh, well that's just half an...

A.M.

I took another shift.

Who do you have to fuck to get service around here?

Me. Which means you're going to be waiting a long time.

Sorry, honey. What can I do for you?

I'm the pea soup, remember?

Oh, right.

Debbie?

- Can I get a pea soup, please? - Yeah, coming up.

Debbie?

Yeah.

I'm Harold, a friend of Vic's.

I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was to hear of his passing.

Oh, thanks.

He was always saying what a great relationship you two had...

how he looked up to you.

You were more than a sister, you were, uh, his best friend.

Sorry, I have to get this order...

I know how difficult it is for you right now,

but at least you have the comfort of knowing how much he loved you.

Deb?

Debbie?

Come... come sit down. Come sit down.

Told her it was too soon.

I got a little shaky, that's all. I didn't have my sea legs back yet.

I'll be better tomorrow.

You're not going back tomorrow, or the next day. You're going to take a few weeks off...

The hell I am!

Would you calm down, please?

We are just looking out for your best interest.

I know what my best interest is.

It's to work, so I can pay for Vic's monument.

That doesn't mean you have to kill yourself.

You don't understand.

You don't have a fucking clue.

Well, why don't you give me a fucking hint?

They're all so vibrant, so dynamic. I don't know which to choose.

Take 'em all.

A simple and practical solution.

You surprise me.

Oh?

I mean, to look at you...

no one would ever suspect...

that I'm a lesbian?

That a beautiful blonde could be smart,

honest, funny...

and supremely talented.

Well, it's not that uncommon.

Oh, it's not?

Well, how many women have you actually bothered to know,

or let know you, before you fucked them, or married them?

And as for my talent, well,

Judging from your response, it was anything but supreme.

No. No, see, that's where you're wrong.

That drawing you did of the homeless man? Hoo-hoo.

I haven't done anything like that in years.

You should.

Maybe some day.

Why not now?

Now, I'm too busy being a wife, a mother,

And then there's my work.

Oh, please. Spare me the excuses, lady.

If you're an artist, nothing stops you.

I could be going down in a plane, taking a dump, screwing my last mistress,

I'd still reach for a pad.

Here.

Draw something.

Now?

Mm-hmm.

Well, what am I supposed to draw?

Whatever the hell inspires you.

A chair, an apple.

You?

Me?

You.

Fine.

Uh, what are you doing?

What's it look like?

No, no, no, Sam, wait. No. You don't have to actually take off your...

Ah, there we go.

the human body.

It's inspired artists for centuries.

Oh-h, I don't believe it.

Few do.

Don't stand there gawking, draw something.

My, what a big cock you have.

Fuck. Is that thing real?

It's real, all right. But you should put your eyes back in your pants.

He's a bottom.

Why don't we get out of here?

The night's still under 30.

Not too hard.

Hey!

Ow! You play hard.

How are you?

I mean, how was your trip?

I almost didn't come back.

We would have missed you.

This must be him.

He looks just like Rage.

Brian, this is Brett Keller.

The boy wonder of Hollywood.

Sounds like him too.

And the big winner,

and I do mean big winner,

of this year's wet willie contest is Marco!

You know, in addition to this year's big winner, there's also some big losers.

Think I'll go and console them.

Why did you let him come here?

He should be home resting.

How am I supposed to stop him when I'm not supposed to know?

I'm going to recreate this place exactly as it is for the movie.

See? I told you so.

You know, Ben?s a writer, too.

Screenplays?

Books.

Just finished a novel.

What's it about?

It's a love story between two men, set in Paris in the '30s.

Period pieces are a tough sell.

I wasn't planning to sell it.

Besides, I'm sure it's not your thing.

And what is?

Mindless entertainment for 12-year-old boys.

Jesus, Ben.

No, I'd like to hear what he has to say. Please, continue.

Well, considering you're gay, and you pretty much have the power to do anything you want,

one would think you might do a project with some relevance,

some social responsibility.

Brian.

Hey.

I'm not feeling too well. I think it might be food poisoning.

Well, you should go then.

Will you come with me?

Please?

I guess you lose again.

"Relevance", "social responsibility",

how could you insult him like that?

The guy is a fraud. He's an untalented hack.

That may be your opinion,

but he happens to be one of the most successful directors in Hollywood.

There is nothing wrong with being successful.

As long as you don't sell out.

Who's talking about selling out?

Don't be naive.

Do you think Brett Keller?s successful because he maintained his artistic integrity?

He loves what he does and he's damn good at it.

You should fit in perfectly out in Hollywood.

You know, I may not be the brilliant, uncompromising genius that you are,

but you know what I think? I think this has nothing to do with artistic integrity.

I think that you're jealous

because somebody wants to make a big movie out of our comic book,

and no one will touch your novel.

Let me help.

I can do it.

I know you can.

I got it.

I thought you had food poisoning.

I guess it was just a tummy ache.

Tell me about Ibiza.

It was like I died and went to homo heaven.

Beautiful guys, all dressed in white.

And everywhere you went...

it smelled like...

lemon-scented air freshener.

It sounds great.

I even fucked a matador.

No way.

Ole.

Mikey.

Time to get u-up or you'll be late for schoo-ool.

Get your ass in gear, now.

That's just how my mom used to wake me up.

Oh. And did she also bring you cappuccino

and a chocolate croissant?

Thanks for letting me crash.

Ah, you can come to mama's any time you want.

Careful, or you might end up with a permanent houseguest.

Huh. I'm sure as soon as you get back, you and Ben will fall into each other's arms,

and kiss and make up.

Not until he stops acting like a jealous asshole.

Yeah, I did the same thing when Emmett?s party planning started taking off.

The more successful he got, the more I resented it.

Maybe I should just forget the whole thing.

What are you, nuts?

How often does an opportunity like this come along? Bzzt!

Time's up. Never!

But if it's going to cause all these problems...

Look, you can't turn yourself into a failure to make your relationship a success.

Thanks, mama.

Any time.

"Doctor strange" number 169.

I've been trying to find this on eBay for months.

How much do I, uh...

that's our gift to you.

- Oh... thanks, guys. - Uh, excuse me, Mr. Keller,

we need to get you to the airport if you're going to make your flight.

I'll be right there.

Guys, I'll be in touch.

Thanks, Brett.

Thank you for everything.

Okay. Listen, if we can't get, uh, Colin or Ashton to play Rage,

we'll get, uh, Brian.

How's he doing?

He's still pretending like everything's all right.

And I'm still pretending like I don't know.

Fuck this shit.

I'm telling him.

You can?t.

He wants it this way.

That's easy for you to say, he's not your boyfriend.

You don't love him.

I love him enough to honour his wishes.

She and Vic had this huge fight.

Now she thinks he'll never forgive her,

so she threw him this posthumous Christmas party, which has got to be a first,

but the angel broke, so she bought him this headstone

with a life-size figure of Gabriel tooting his trumpet,

definitely not the sort of blow-job Vic was interested in.

Now hold it, slow down. I'm not following.

The point is, Carl, no one can get through to her,

not me, not Michael.

But something tells me,

as sure as I know there's a shirt in your closet

that's a better match for those polyester pants than the one you've got on,

that, uh...

that you can.

Didn't seem so the other day.

Trust me, I understand.

A time like this...

a girl needs a man.

It's been a long time.

Since when?

Ah-h-H.

Since I've seen you so happy.

Thanks to a certain madman friend of mine.

Oh, my god!

Did he pose for you like that?

With nothing but a cigar.

He really is mad.

In a wonderful, infuriating,

generous, self-centred sort of way.

I'm glad he's inspired you.

Night-night.

Linda Hurley.

Who?

Linda Hurley.

A.K.A. "Linda the Hurler".

I've been trying to think of her name all day long.

Christ. What made you suddenly think of her?

Your last foray into showbiz.

Let's hope this time I won't have to be hosed down.

Tell me the story, Mikey.

You already know the story.

I don't care.

Tell it to me again.

It was the junior class presentation of "Our Town".

And somehow I had landed the part of George.

And Linda...

was Emily.

And it was that tender moment...

at the end of act two, where they kiss.

And she puked all over you.

She had the flu.

Yeah, it flew all right.

Well, that's when I decided it was not an actor's life for me.

Now Hollywood?s calling and...

"Rage:...

The Movie".

He wouldn't exist if it weren't for you.

So, are you going to come to the premiere?

Why wouldn't I?

I want it to be at that theatre, um,

you know, the one with all the stars' footprints.

Wouldn't it be cool if...

we had our footprints in the cement?

Michael and Brian...

immortalized forever.

Just you and me.

Shit.

Michael?

Mikey?

I'm sorry.

For what?

I know.

I know you didn't go to Ibiza.

I know you went to Johns Hopkins.

And you had surgery for... oh, god.

If I lose you, I don't know what I'll do.

Hey, I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay.

I wasn't supposed to tell you.

I told him not to tell.

Who?

Justin. He overheard the doctor leaving a message on your machine,

and he... he called the hospital.

So what you're going to get is a coverlet.

A coverlet is simply another word...

you might want to think of it as a bedspread.

So this is going to be a large coverlet with one counter-sham for the twin,

two standard for the full, two standard for the queen, and two king-sized for the king,

and it's going to be in your choice of different faux furs.

This is the lynx...

Em!

...Kind of a softer, lighter animal print if you like to think of it that way.

Fuck.

Hey, Carl.

You busy?

Well, actually, you've just saved me from buying a faux zebra rug off the shopping channel.

Um, can I come in?

I'm really not up to...

I look like shit.

Hey, I've seen you first thing in the morning, remember?

It must've been a shock,

losing him like that, so unexpected.

Yeah, you could say that.

So much left unsaid.

Yeah, that too.

I understand.

I was a fucking asshole, Carl.

I said horrible things...

things I can never take back,

things I can never be forgiven for.

You know what that's like?

When, uh, when Celia, my wife, died...

she was in the hospital for three months,

lingering, suffering. Lung cancer.

I'm sorry.

She was so scared to die alone.

S-she made me promise I wouldn't let that happen.

So I stayed with her, day and night.

Slept in that goddamn chair in that goddamn hospital room,

listening to her gasping for breath.

One night I was so angry,

a-at the chair, at the hospital, at the doctors, at her for smoking...

I went out and I had a drink.

Actually I, uh, I had so many I lost count.

When I got back, she was dead.

My wife died when I was out getting sloshed.

I broke my promise, and my Celia died alone.

And I beat myself up for a long time, Debbie...

thinking she'd never forgive me.

But it was me who wouldn't forgive me.

She knew how much I loved her.

If she was still here she'd say,

"Carl, what the hell are you doing? Enough already."

It's the same thing with your brother.

He knew how much you loved him.

I'll just never be able to tell him that I'm...

that I'm so sorry.

I'm just so sorry, I can?t...

He knows, sweetheart.

Dinner's almost ready. Why don't you set the table?

For two or three?

Three.

Then Michael?s coming back?

Of course he's coming back.

I heard you guys fighting last night.

We weren't fighting. We were having a disagreement.

You were disagreeing really loud.

Sometimes couples do that.

Anyway, it, uh, doesn't concern you.

The fuck it doesn?t.

What happens to me if you guys break up?

Nobody's breaking up.

Just asking, in case I need to make other arrangements.

You're staying right here, pal, with us.

Hey.

Hey.

I'm really sorry about last night.

Me too.

Apology accepted.

Now you guys can fuck and make up.

By the way...

this came for you.

What did you get?

Brett Keller sent the option agreement,

and an autographed picture for you of Cameron Diaz.

Tight!

Going to do it?

Yeah. We're going to do it.

I'm stoked.

Congratulations.

Thanks.

Let's eat.

Hey.

Picked up some movies.

Figured we'd just stay in and watch them.

What did you bring?

"Terms of Endearment"?

"Love Story"?

"My Boyfriend Has Cancer"?

Why didn't you tell me?

Maybe because I didn't want you to know.

Or...

maybe because it's none of your fucking business.

Brian, I'm your partner.

Not any more. I don't want you here. Now get the fuck out.

Cut it out.

I said get the fuck out.

Brian, I love you and I want to help you.

Get the fuck out.

Don?t... Jesus.