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J: He wants to make Rage into a movie.
(C: Brett Keller? That�s fantastic!)
B: Are these rates firm?
(C: As my abs. I bought one of those machines.)
J: Did you hear what I said?
B: Yea, he wants to make it into a movie. (To Cynthia)Tell them we�ll book the next three issues if they knock off 15 percent.
J: Aren�t you proud of me? I�m gonna be Rich!
B: Good. Now you can pay back the thousands I spent on your aborted education.
J: Who needs school when you have a piktcha deal?
B: You still won't have a degree.
J: I already have an idea for the first feature - Assuming, of course, there are going to be numerous sequels - JT gets even with his bashers, goes to Hollywood, and becomes a stah!
B: Wow, where�d you get that brainstorm?
J: How about we go to Babylon later and celebrate?
B: Sorry, it�s a school night. Cynthia, when is the deadline on that run?
(C: Noon tomorrow.)
B: Hey, Spielberg! One drink.
B: You know the problem with our extracurricular one fuck only policy?
J: Is it that after a while you start asking yourself, 'am I doing this because I want to do it, or because I need to do it? And if need to do it, is to prove to myself I'm still young and attractive? Or cause I think I'm unworthy of being loved.'
B: Or maybe it's because I've had every fuckable guy in this city.
J: What about him?
B: Ah, the scent of fresh meat. Thrill of the kill.
J: Too bad, Simba. It's me he's checking out.
B: In your dreams.
J: You want to bet?
B: What are the stakes?
J: If I win, you take me on an all expense paid trip to Ibiza.
B: It's pronounced Ibitha. And it's a long way to go for a bathhouse with sand.
J: And if you win?
B: If I win - you go back to school.
J: No fucking way.
B: It's your call.
J: No, wait, wait... alright, ok. You're on. Cause I know he was checking me out.
Shit, he's gone.
B: He who hesitates doesn't get laid.
J: The man that got away, huh.
B: I was halfway up his ass.
J: He must have heard that nasty rumor. You know, the one about you having crabs.
B: Uh, I wonder how that happened.
J: Pack the sunscreen, we're going to Ibitha.
B: I wouldn't ditch my textbooks yet.
B: Hold it.
(S: Say, aren't you the guy from the gym?)
B: Yeah, the one with the bad case of crabs. Fortunately that's cleared up.
J: You're too late. I won. You can book our flight tomorrow.
B: Nobody's going anywhere. The bet's off. Vic's dead.
J: That is really low, even for you.
B: It's true.
J: Brian, wait up. She's upset. Just tell her your sorry.
B: There's only one problem, I'm not.
J: Where are you going?
B: We have a bet, remember?
J: I can't believe you're thinking about sex at a time like this.
B: At a time like this is exactly when you should be thinking about it, before you can't.
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B: A surprise awaits you. What�s yours say?
J: The man you love will slowly and sensually peel off all his clothes for you, exposing his perfect body. Then he will take out his bea �u - tiful dick and you can suck it.
B: This is a long fortune.
J: There�s more.
B: Oh�
J: Next, he�ll rim your ass to get you crazy, then ram his cock up you and fuck you so hard you pass out.
B: In bed.
J: Hm?
B: You�re supposed to add �in bed� to the end of that fortune.
J: I was thinking on the floor.
B: Okay.
J: What?
B: Nothing. Your hands are cold.
J: I�ll warm them up.
B: That�s okay. (Yawns) I�m kinda tired.
J: Thought you might like a long, hard night after a long hard day.
B: You know, I just remembered I left something at the office.
B: Well, that�s the point of being your own boss, isn�t it? Make your own hours, come and go as you please, not answer to anyone -
J: Almost anyone.
B: The ball and chain. Cynthia, would you excuse us?
J: Where are you going?
B: Ibitha. I�m leaving tonight.
J: Without me?
B: You�re going back to school, remember? It would be highly irresponsible of me to just pull you out.
J: Fuck school. Fuck the bet. Fuck you. I mean, we were supposed to go together.
B: We�re not fucking married! And I don�t need to get your fucking permission if I want to go somewhere!
J: You�re right. You�re absolutely right. We have no obligation to tell each other anything. Look, if I did something or said something to piss you off, I didn�t mean to.
B: It�s not you.
J: What is it? What? It's Okay - you go do whatever you have to do for whatever reason you have to do it. I just want you to know I love you. And I�ll be here when you get back.
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J: You're back.
B: And you�re here.
J: I told you I would be, didn't I. Um, so how was your trip?
(M: Weather sucked.
T: But so did the men.)
J: I�d love to hear about it, but I have to go to class.
B: Want a lift?
J: That�s OK. I�m sure you have plenty more important things to do.
B: I was gonna send you a postcard.
J: But the Post Office was on strike.
B: I meant to call you.
J: But your cellphone died and you didn�t have your charger.
B: How did you know that?
J: You don�t have to make up excuses. As long as you got whatever it was out of your system.
B: It�s out alright.
B: By the way, I - I missed you.
J: Prove it.
(kiss number 1)
J: You�re gonna have to do better than that.
(kiss number 2)
I�m still not convinced.
(kiss number 3)
J: Okay! Okay, I believe you!
B: I�ll see you tonight?
J: If I�m in town.
B: You going somewhere?
J: Hollywood.
J: He loves it. He fucking loves it. He says its genius.
B: Thats nice.
J: He also swears that no matter what, the characters are going to
stay exactly like they are in the comic. Hard ass, edgy and queer.
B: Great.
J: Oh get this, when we told him we based the character of Rage on
you he said I have to meet this guy, so we made plans to go to
babylon tomorrow night. Contingent, of course, on your availability.
B: Well, I'll have to get my tights back from the cleaners.
J: What'd you hurt yourself?
B: I must have pulled a muscle in Ibiza.
J: I bet I can guess which one. You know you look really tired.
B: Just jetlag. I'm fabuloso, senor.
J: I wish I could say the same thing about the shorts. Don't jackoff in there. I have other plans! Brian, want me to get the phone?
(Voice over the machine: 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 a call at�)
J: Brian...
J: Fuck. Is that thing real?
B: It's real alright but you should put your eyes back in your pants. He's a bottom.
J: Why don't we get out of here?
B: The night's still under 30.
J: Brian. I'm not feeling too well. I think it might be food poisoning.
B: Well, you should go, then.
J: Will you come with me? Please.
B: I guess you lose again.
J: Let me help.
B: I can do it.
J: I know you can.
B: I thought you had food poisoning.
J: I guess it was just a tummyache. Tell me about Ibiza.
B: It's 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.
J: It sounds great.
B: I even fucked a matador.
J: No way.
B: Ole.
J: Hey. I picked up some movies. Figured we�d just stay and watch.
B: What�d you bring? �Terms of Endearment�? �Love Story�? �My Boyfriend Has Cancer�?
J: Why didn�t you tell me?
B: Maybe because I didn�t want you to know. Or maybe because it�s none of your fucking business!
J: Brian - I�m your partner.
B: Not anymore. I don�t want you here, now get the fuck out.
J: Cut it out.
B: I said get the fuck out!
J: Brian, I love you and I want to help you.
B: Get the fuck out!
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B: What the fuck are you doing here?
J: I�m waiting for you. You won�t answer the door, you won�t return my calls.
B: Well, that should be a hint.
J: Why won�t you see me?
B: Cynthia. Cynthia!
(C: Jesus, Brian, what�s going on?)
J: You can�t just kick me out.
B: Watch me. (To Cynthia: ) I don�t want his calls, I don�t want him in this office and if he comes near me I want a restraining order, got it? And if some asshole named Vic Grassi calls from Hell, you can tell him I�m in a meeting.
B: I thought I told you to get out.
J: I guess I didn�t hear. You tend to mumble a lot. You want some soup? It�s Debbie�s homemade recipe.
B: No wonder I feel like barfing. Listen to me, you little shit. I - don�t � want - you - here.
J: I don�t care what you want.
You�re not getting rid of me!
Shit, are you alright? Tell me you�re alright.
B: I�m alright!
J: You�re not alright.
B: Then what the hell are you asking me for???
J: So that I can tell you what a mother fucking piece of shit you are for not telling me! For shutting me out. For thinking that you could handle this on your own. And most of all, for thinking that I would leave you. Why would you think that? Cause you had a ball removed? Cause you�re no longer perfect? Well, believe me, Mr. Kinney, that is the least of your imperfections. And if I�d wanted to leave you, I�ve had better reasons. Plenty of them.
B: Maybe you should have.
J: Yeah, maybe you�re right. But I thought we had a commitment and I plan to stand by it. Now why don�t you get your ass back in bed, you son of a bitch, and eat some fucking chicken soup.
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J: Brian�
B: Don't say anything
J: Look, I'm sure it's just a temporary malfunction. It takes time for your body to heal itself and for you to regain your strength. Be patient. Everything will be up and running in no time
B: Thanks for not saying anything.
J: Here. Drink this.
B: It smells like yak shit.
J: Yea, I wouldn't be surprised if that was in it too. It's a magic potion from a chinese herbalist.
B: Will it make me small?
J: I'm hoping that it will make you large. Very very large.
B: That is disgusting.
J: Who cares as long as it works. You feeling anything?
B: Well, if you're expecting my glasses to steam up, I hate to disappoint you.
J: It supposed to rekindle the fire in your life gate.
B: My life gate?
J: I know it sounds ludicrous but if it works, who gives a shit?
B: Yea, well, maybe you can also stop me from thinking about what's no longer there, and in it's place is this piece of plastic. Or from picturing them sucking a bloody disease ridden ball out of me. or from feeling so shitty from having them burn me to a crisp with their ray gun that all I wanna do is dig a hole and crawl in, only I'm too busy vomiting. Who knows? Maybe then I might even be able to get it up.
J: There's got to be something.
B: Whatever it is, it's not a cup of Lipton's.
J: Hey. What's up?
B: Funny you should ask�
J: Whooa.
B: Is that a thing of beauty?
J: A joy forever.
J: So, that happy time tea actually worked?
B: Unlikely.
J: Whence the woody?
B: Let's just say that God gave me a second chance. I don't wanna blow it, but, you feel free to.
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B: Of all the times we've fucked, and by now I'd say we were well
into the quadruple digits, that has to rank in the top 5.
J: That'll be $1000 please.
B: That's quite an increase from the 2 bits you were charging when we
met.
J: To experience perfection is a privilege regardless of the price.
Besides I need you to sponsor me for the Liberty Ride.
B: I'm sorry Sunshine I'm already sponsoring someone else. Me.
J: What?
B: I'm doing the Ride.
J: You can't do the Ride. You've barely recovered. The doctor told
you to take it easy. And at your age...
B: ... At my age, I can make up my own mind.
J: You hate bicycling, you despise camping out,you detest any and
all forms of charity, you loathe the Gay and Lesbian Center and
everyone associated with it. So give me one, just one good reason why.
B: I want to.
J: Well, you can't. You haven't trained. You're not in shape. There's
no way you make it out of Toronto much less the 322 miles back to
Pittsburgh.
B: Your prophesies of doom only incite me more.
J: I'm just being realistic.
B: Well we dreamers have no time for that. When's the next Spin class?
J: Tomorrow.
B: Well with a little practice, I'll fly like the wind.
J: Where you going? Babylon?
B: Hopefully I'll have the strength for one quick spin around the floor.
J: Don't make noise when you come in. I have to get up early for Spin
class.
B: You youngsters, I don't know where you get your strength.
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J: Nice night for a ride.
B: What the fuck are you doing here?
J: Following you to see where you've been going for the last 3 weeks.
B: Now you know. And now you can go back home and go to bed.
J: Do you know what time it is?
B: Little hand's on the two, the big hand's on the three -- quarter after
2?
J: Why the hell are you doing this?
B: Gotta get in shape.
J: For what?
B: The Liberty Ride.
J: You're not still thinking of going .
B: Just because you and the rest of them disqualified me doesn't mean
I did.
J: We're just concerned.
B: There's so many poor starving children that go to bed hungry every
night. Be concerned about them.
J: So why the secrecy?
B: Cause I don't want people like you saying "you can't, you musn't."
I don't want every cunty faggot who goes to the gym saying "Poor
Kinney. Told you so!"
J: I have to hand it to you, your perserverance is surpassed only by
your narcissism.
B: There you have it. Secret to my success. Unless I'm proven wrong
by the naysayers and I fail dismally.
J: You're not going to fail, dismally or otherwise. You're going to be a big, fat, fucking success
as always. We're going to go on the Ride together, and at night we'll
pitch a tent and we'll have hot, passionate sex under the stars.
B: What the fuck are you doing?
J: I've heard that when achieving a goal its best to visualize it.
B: What the fuck's all this?
J: Just making sure we have everything we need for the ride. Tent, sleeping bags,
first aid kit, tool kit, rain gear, two sets of worm clothes, one dildo...
B: You've certainly thought of everything, but, why do you need a tent if you're going to be staying in a mansion.
J: Hmm?
B: Michael told me you're winging to the coast tomorrow to huddle with studio heads.
J: I never said I was going.
B: He seems to think that you are.
J: Well I'm not. We're going on the ride together, as planned.
B: Unfortunately there's been a slight change of plans. I'm not going.
J: Why the fuck not?
B: Because you're right. I'm not in good enough shape.
J: I saw you cycling.
B: Yeah, and after 30 miles I was winded. In the ride we're gonna have to do 80 to a 100 miles a day,
maybe more. There's no way I can make it.
J: That's bullshit, you're just saying that to get me to go to Hollywood.
B: You can go on the ride without me, sacrifice your future. Now that's what I call charity.
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B: Ahhh...
J: You OK?
B: I'll be allright. I heard it from the best authority. So, did you fuck Tom Cruise?
J: Everybody knows he's not gay.
B: Adrian Brody?
J: Nice, but less.
B: Tobey Maguire?
J: Please.
B: What? (Justin whispers Connor's name in his ear). No shit. Sounds like you had a most excellent adventure.
J: Sounds like you did too.
B: Bicycling down life's endless highways, I had time to think.
J: Oh?
B: About what I'd do differently if I survived cancer. AND sleeping in a tent.
J: Equally unpleasant, I agree. But now that you have, what did you decide?
B: The first thing I'd do differently is the bedroom. Get rid of that thing over the bed.
J: Yeah, its very 90s, I agree.
B: And then, I'd like to spend more time with my son. He's an at age now when he needs a strong, masculine influence. Especially being raised by a couple of dykes. He's got to know about Armani, Gucci, Prada,
not just football and engine tuning.
J: Unquestionably. Any other decisions?
B: I want you to move back in.
J: Huh?
B: I said I 'd like it if you and I were to live together.
J: Are you proposing?
B: Of course not. With the sudden and unexpected plethora of gay marriages, I'd hate to add to the glut.
All this running back and forth between here and Daphne's is time-consuming, and inconvenient.
I mean, just last week you forgot your socks and had to borrow a pair of mine.
And as for the times when you're not around, I wouldn't particularly mind if you were.
J: I've been waiting for you to ask me that since the first night you brought me here.
B: Well, then what do you say? Should I make room in my drawers for your drawers?
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