P.S. Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the P.S. script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Laura Linney and Topher Grace movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of P.S.. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

Swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards for more free movie scripts!

P.S. Script


  

  

 

                   

I can hear you.



 

                   

- Hear what?

- Counting the calories.



 

                   

Fuck off.



 

                   

Any plans for the weekend?



 

                   

Going to a conference in oregon.



 

                   

- What's the topic?

- Repulsive energy.



 

                   

- Energy can be repulsive?

- Yeah. Yeah.



 

                   

Try pushing

two magnets together.



 

                   

And you?



  

                   

I'm having a manicure

on Sunday.



  

                   

I would have taken you, lou...



  

                   

except there's no way

they were gonna pay for a guest.



  

                   

Peter, it's fine.



  

                   

I had breakfast

with sammy this morning.



  

                   

Why did you have breakfast

with sammy?



  

                   

Because he helps people

invest their money, that's why.



  

                   

Peter, my brother

is an addict and a thief.



  

                   

He's in recovery, lou. Besides,

he's really good at what he does.



  

                   

You're not thinking about

giving him any money to invest, are you?



  

                   

Well, i'm not

getting any younger, am I?



  

                   

There are things that I wanna do.



  

                   

Then play the lottery!



  

                   

Peter, how would you

describe our marriage?



  

                   

Better than most.



  

                   

- How do you know?

- Because I hear the stories.



  

                   

It was a good marriage.

We had    years.



  

                   

- Six of them were really good.

- Yeah.



  

                   

And we're still friends.



  

                   

Peter, you're my only friend.



  

                   

- What about missy?

- Missy is      miles away.



  

                   

She has a husband and two children

to keep her company.



  

                   

Ask me who I hate.

Go ahead. Ask me.



  

                   

- Who do you hate?

- My husband. Marcos is ignoring me.



  

                   

Every time he starts a new project,

it's like i'm invisible.



  

                   

So I started a little project

of my own.



  

                   

- Guess how I spend my days.

- Waiting for me to call?



  

                   

Hitting on the pool boy.



  

                   

I'm telling you, wheez,

i'm moving to venice beach.



  

                   

- You'd miss your rich husband.

- He'd miss me!



  

                   

Wheezy, you know me. Do I sit around

feeling sorry for myself?



  

                   

Do I settle for a life without sex?

No! I'm not you!



  

                   

I work the problem.

So, as of today, i'm taking action.



  

                   

I just wrote a flirty little note...



  

                   

to old flame greg.



  

                   

Did you send it?



  

                   

I'll have marcos do it.



  

                   

- Marcos?

- Mm-hmm.



  

                   

"Proactivity," wheeze.



  

                   

Marcos needs to know

if he can't give me what I need...



  

                   

i'll go out and find someone who can.



  

                   

Wow.



  

                   

Yo. What's crackin'?



  

                   

Is this f. Scott feinstadt?



  

                   

Sure. Who's this?



  

                   

This is louise harrington

calling from columbia university.



  

                   

Hey... louise.

What can I do for you?



  

                   

We received your application today,

but there were no slides.



  

                   

Who's "we"?



  

                   

I received it.

Did you mail them separately?



  

                   

Hang on one second.



  

                   

- You still there?

- I'm still here.



  

                   

Fuck. I completely spaced. They are

sitting right here by the front door.



  

                   

Look, I will hit the post office

first thing tomorrow morning, okay?



  

                   

Actually, i'm calling

to schedule an interview.



  

                   

You can bring them

with you then.



  

                   

An interview? Is...



  

                   

is that, like, a requirement?



  

                   

No, it's not required.



  

                   

But if you want to be taken seriously,

then you should have one.



  

                   

Well...



  

                   

yeah, I...



  

                   

I definitely want

to be taken seriously, louise.



  

                   

Will you be

doing the interviewing?



  

                   

- Yes.

- Good. When were you thinking?



  

                   

Monday?



  

                   

Okay. What time?



  

                   

-   :  .

- Yeah. No,   :  's great.



  

                   

- Great.

- Great.



  

                   

L...



  

                   

I can still hear you breathing,

louise.



  

                   

- Well...

- so...



  

                   

i'll... see you Monday...



  

                   

and don't forget your slides.



  

                   

No, ma'am. Okay.



  

                   

- Hey, mom.

- Louise!



  

                   

- You almost gave me a heart attack.

- What's the occasion?



  

                   

Sammy's coming to dinner.



  

                   

Don't tell me you're joining us.



  

                   

I'm just gonna go poke

around my room a little bit.



  

                   

How's peter?



  

                   

- Mom, peter and I are divorced.

- I've known the man    years.



  

                   

Louise, I can't ask how he's doing?



  

                   

I'm starving. Ow.



  

                   

Hey, louise, look...

thank you.



  

                   

Isn't it true,

after a hard day's work...



  

                   

a man likes to have his food waiting

for him when he walks in the door?



  

                   

- It's Saturday.

- So what?



  

                   

- He never rests.

- I'll sleep when i'm dead.



  

                   

- Don't say that.

- What's in your bag?



   

                   

I found some stuff in my closet.



   

                   

- What stuff?

- Clothes.



   

                   

Oh, they won't fit you

anymore, darling.



   

                   

I'll get them altered.

They're back in fashion.



   

                   

If you say so.



   

                   

Mom, whatever happened

to the feinstadts?



   

                   

They retired to florida.



   

                   

- Not too far from your father.

- Did they have brothers and sisters?



   

                   

- Why do you ask?

- I saw the name feinstadt the other day.



   

                   

I just wondered if scott maybe

had a cousin running around somewhere.



   

                   

It was just the two of them.



   

                   

Which made what happened to scott

so devastating.



   

                   

Still, the way she carried on

about his artistic genius...



   

                   

mom!



   

                   

It is the worst thing that can happen

to a woman... losing a child.



   

                   

I see rachel feinstadt

when she comes back to visit...



   

                   

and she's lost her bloom.



   

                   

Do you remember how beautiful she was

when she was your age?



   

                   

- My age?

- Yeah.



   

                   

When you and scott were dating...



   

                   

rachel would have been

about your age.



   

                   

Did scott ever use the phrase

"just-add-water life" with you?



   

                   

Who?



   

                   

Scott.



   

                   

Scott was    years ago,

wheeze.



   

                   

I couldn't tell you what I had

for breakfast this morning.



   

                   

Just this one thing.



   

                   

- What? Are you writing your memoirs?

- No, I just... I saw it somewhere.



   

                   

It sounded familiar.

I wasn't sure if it was him.



   

                   

- Where did you see it?

- Magazine.



   

                   

Did he say it?



   

                   

Yeah. Yeah.

He used to say it.



   

                   

It was part of his whole thing,

you know?



   

                   

You know, that sensitive artist thing.



   

                   

Like, "hey, I make art,

so you don't get to yell at me...



   

                   

for making you wait

at the ihop for two fucking hours. "



   

                   

I forgot that part.



   

                   

- What part?

- Being late part.



   

                   

And just when you were

ready to write him off... poof!



   

                   

He'd show up

with that shit-eating grin on his face.



   

                   

- Thanks. It was driving me crazy.

- No problem.



   

                   

- Let's pick it up in another    years.

- Bye.



   

                   

- Scott.

- F. Scott. It's... louise, right?



   

                   

Close the door.



   

                   

- You're late.

- I know. L...



   

                   

I totally fucked up

on the subway. I'm sorry.



   

                   

- And strike two.

- Excuse me?



   

                   

You're into abstracts.

I'm not abstract.



   

                   

I mean, it's just...

it's not what I do.



   

                   

I'm more figurative.



   

                   

I figure that...



   

                   

you know,

you're telling a story...



   

                   

so you need real... forms

to do that.



   

                   

How was your time at risd?



   

                   

Good. You know? It was good.



   

                   

Good people. Good times.



   

                   

But, you know,

at the end of the day...



   

                   

it's rhode island, you know,

so I guess I needed more room.



   

                   

And that's why i'm here.



   

                   

I'm sorry.

Why are you here?



   

                   

Louise,

ever since I can remember...



   

                   

I have had this thing

inside of me, you know...



   

                   

and it just keeps coming and coming...

there's no stopping it.



   

                   

Canvas after canvas.

It's like it's all part of the same thing.



   

                   

So you just tell me

what I need to do, louise...



   

                   

and I will do it.



   

                   

Well, let's...



   

                   

take a look at your slides.



   

                   

You're not gonna believe this.

I forgot to bring 'em.



   

                   

I'm just kidding! I'm just joking.



   

                   

You're not

gonna project them?



   

                   

Well, not yet. When the committee

makes their final deliberations.



   

                   

And here I thought

I was talking to the gatekeeper.



   

                   

I can't go into procedure.

So why don't you arrange them for me?



   

                   

Sure.



   

                   

I'll make 'em nice and pretty,

just for you.



   

                   

Excuse me.



   

                   

- Peter.

- Hello.



   

                   

- It's not a good time.

- Okay.



   

                   

I just wanted to see

if we could do it at your place tonight.



   

                   

- Tonight?

- Yeah. It's Monday.



   

                   

I'm sorry. Sure. My place.



   

                   

- It's just, i'm... i'm not up to cooking.

- Sure. Okay.



   

                   

- So i'll see you about  :  .

- Sure.



   

                   

- Sorry to disturb you.

- It's okay. Bye-bye.



   

                   

All yours...



   

                   

lou.



   

                   

All right. Come on.



   

                   

Hit me, louise. I can take it.



   

                   

Well...



   

                   

I think...



   

                   

they show

a great deal of promise.



   

                   

Promise.



   

                   

So you keep these for now?



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

And i'm free to go?



   

                   

Now's the time to ask me any questions

you might have about the program.



   

                   

You know what? I don't...



   

                   

thanks for your time, louise.



   

                   

F. Scott...



   

                   

f. Scott!



   

                   

Is that how

you conclude an interview?



   

                   

You go running off like that?



   

                   

I don't know.

This is my first interview.



   

                   

So why don't we

go sit somewhere?



   

                   

I can tell you about the program,

the faculty, the resident artists.



   

                   

You must have some questions.



   

                   

And it'll be my turn

in the hot seat.



   

                   

Do you want something

to drink?



   

                   

Why not?



   

                   

Just go on in.



   

                   

What does it make you think of?



   

                   

- I don't know.

- Take your time.



   

                   

It's a mother and child.



   

                   

It was a gift.



   

                   

Well, I gotta say, louise...



   

                   

I am really diggin' this

executive recruitment thing.



   

                   

You know, i'm completely

at your disposal.



   

                   

Actually, then, I do have...



   

                   

a question.



   

                   

Go ahead.



   

                   

Has anyone ever

painted your portrait?



   

                   

Once.



   

                   

A long time ago.



   

                   

You should let me.



   

                   

- Are... are you sure this is okay?

- Yeah.



   

                   

I don't wanna make you

do anything that...



   

                   

no, it's fine.



   

                   

Do you have something?



   

                   

- Do you have something?

- Yeah.



   

                   

Get it.



   

                   

Fuck!



   

                   

Oh, god.



   

                   

Oh, god.



   

                   

That was fucking awesome.



   

                   

- Can I get you anything?

- Can you...



   

                   

are you kidding me?



   

                   

- Louise, can I ask you a question?

- Yeah. Sure.



   

                   

- Is this gonna hurt my chances?

- Chances of what?



   

                   

I mean, as the head of admissions...



   

                   

can you balance

business and pleasure?



   

                   

Yeah. Yeah. L...



   

                   

you know, I think i'd better get back

to the office for a bit.



   

                   

Oh, yeah. No.



   

                   

You can't abandon all responsibility.

Right?



   

                   

You want to chill out

later tonight?



   

                   

- Yeah. Yeah. Do you?

- Sure... I can't tonight.



   

                   

How about tomorrow night

I will take you out on a proper date?



   

                   

How does that sound?



   

                   

- Yeah, i'd... i'd like that.

- I'll call you.



   

                   

Speaking of which,

can I use your phone?



   

                   

Yeah. Yeah. Of course.



   

                   

Right there.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

Hi, mom.



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

No, I think it went pretty well.



   

                   

No, it was... it was pretty easy.

I mean, it was fun.



   

                   

I was... I was in and out of...



   

                   

can we talk about this

when I get home, mom?



   

                   

I love you too. Bye.



   

                   

Mom.

She worries, you know?



   

                   

I'll bet.



   

                   

You know, I think I should probably

take a shower, just sober up a bit.



   

                   

Yeah. Yeah. Sure.



   

                   

Wow.

That's organized.



   

                   

There. Just...



   

                   

- you're sure this is okay?

- Yeah, yeah. It's fine.



   

                   

Just take

all the time you want...



   

                   

and then just

let yourself out.



   

                   

- Will you promise me one thing?

- Yeah.



   

                   

Promise me

i'll see you tomorrow night?



   

                   

I promise.



   

                   

- You changed.

- Yep.



   

                   

- Louise harrington.

- What are you up to?



   

                   

- What do you mean?

- I've been calling all over the place.



   

                   

Well, I... I took a long lunch.



   

                   

- Well, I heard back from greg.

- Who?



   

                   

He called me this morning!



   

                   

- What did he say?

- "What did he say?" wheezy.



   

                   

He called me from a hotel.



   

                   

- A hotel?

- Mm-hmm! Subtle this man is not.



   

                   

He calls me and basically says, "come over

for an afternoon of hot, nostalgic sex. "



   

                   

Oh, my god!

What did you say?



   

                   

I said, "order up some of that

room service shrimp cocktail, honey.



   

                   

I'm comin' over!"



   

                   

- No.

- Yes!



   

                   

Two hours ago i'm in the suv.



   

                   

I'm actually on my way

to meet greg...



   

                   

at the radisson, no less.



   

                   

You should've seen me, wheeze.

I'm driving barefoot...



   

                   

with these "fuck me"shoes

bouncing on the passenger seat.



   

                   

It's a good hair day.

All systems are go.



   

                   

- And?

- And two blocks from the hotel...



   

                   

I turn around and drive home.



   

                   

Why, miss?



   

                   

Why? Because the last time

greg saw me naked I was   .



   

                   

I was still perfect, wheezy.



   

                   

He's picturing me as a girl.



   

                   

If I let him see me now,

the girl is gone forever.



   

                   

She gets replaced

by a housewife who's had twins.



   

                   

I mean, you should see

my bazooms, wheeze.



   

                   

It's like national geographic

over here.



   

                   

Oh, come on, miss.

You always needed a bra.



   

                   

Ouchy!



   

                   

Wait a minute.



   

                   

You're getting laid,

aren't you?



   

                   

- What are you talking about?

- I know you.



   

                   

Your voice changes

when you're getting laid.



   

                   

Spill the beans, wheezy.



   

                   

Who is he?



   

                   

I don't know.



   

                   

You look great.



   

                   

- I forgot about your groupies.

- Oh, yeah.



   

                   

They're newly intoxicated

with the wonders of the universe.



   

                   

Remember when we were like that?



   

                   

I remember.



   

                   

Getting you

was like winning a prize.



   

                   

I outshone all the other girls.



   

                   

- You sure did.

- Mm-hmm.



   

                   

Still do.



   

                   

How are you, lou?



   

                   

Well...



   

                   

i'm wonderful, actually.



   

                   

You look wonderful.



   

                   

- And how are you, peter?

- I'm good.



   

                   

Good.



   

                   

I'm happy.



   

                   

- Happy?

- Mm.



   

                   

Lou, I didn't go to...



   

                   

to oregon last weekend by myself.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

I went with somebody else.



   

                   

I wanted to tell you myself because...



   

                   

I didn't want you

finding out some other way.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

- Is she a student?

- No.



   

                   

I met her through sammy,

actually.



   

                   

- Do you have a cigarette?

- You don't smoke.



   

                   

I do, sometimes.



   

                   

Thanks.



   

                   

Lou, some months back I...



   

                   

I went to sammy... for help.



   

                   

- You told me.

- This is different.



   

                   

I have an addiction.



   

                   

- You have an addiction?

- Yeah.



   

                   

- An addiction to what?

- To sex.



   

                   

Sex? You have

an addiction to sex?



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

It started before... before we met.



   

                   

But, peter, the last three years

of our marriage...



   

                   

we didn't have sex at all.



   

                   

Oh, god.



   

                   

Every semester I swore to myself,

this will not happen again.



   

                   

And then a list of names

would be left on my desk...



   

                   

and just even looking at the names

would start the whole cycle over again.



   

                   

But that's how we met.

I was a name on a list.



   

                   

Lou, I swear to you...

you were different.



   

                   

I swear.



   

                   

How many?



   

                   

- I don't know. L...

- how many, peter?



   

                   

Hundreds.



   

                   

- Hundreds?

- Yeah.



   

                   

And there were

some men as well.



   

                   

Men?



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

- How many?

- I don't know.



   

                   

- You don't know? How many?

- I don't remember.



   

                   

It wasn't many.

It was... a few.



   

                   

"A few. " "a few. "

What does that mean?



   

                   

Not more than,

I don't know,   .



   

                   

Not more than   .



   

                   

Not more than   .

Peter, that's more than me.



   

                   

It's a disease, lou.



   

                   

It's taken me

all my adult life to just...



   

                   

accept that.



   

                   

Sammy helped me.

He helped me get there.



   

                   

Are you fucking my brother?



   

                   

I went to sammy because I saw

the way he handled his addiction...



   

                   

one day at a time.



   

                   

I asked him if he could help me

to get into a program.



   

                   

He did, and that's

where I met farrah.



   

                   

Farrah.



   

                   

What's her addiction?

Is she a sex addict too?



   

                   

Do the two of you just get together...

you just fuck all the time?



   

                   

It doesn't matter.



   

                   

- It's cocaine, actually.

- Oh. Good.



   

                   

Good... expensive.



   

                   

The worst thing of all, lou...



   

                   

was that throughout

our marriage...



   

                   

I blamed you

for what was happening.



   

                   

Sure. Why not?



   

                   

The more I acted out,

the less you seemed to notice.



   

                   

You had this image of me that I was

like some knight in shining armor.



   

                   

You wouldn't let go of it.

You clung to it.



   

                   

I was desperate

for you to catch me.



   

                   

You have no idea what it's like

to live with an addiction...



   

                   

day in, day out, lou...

to live this secret life.



   

                   

But I can tell you right now...



   

                   

I have finished with hiding.



   

                   

And if you'll let me, I...



   

                   

I want to repair

the damage that i've done.



   

                   

You're on step nine, aren't you?



   

                   

You're making amends?



   

                   

I fucking hate step nine

with a passion!



   

                   

I am trying...



   

                   

to repair

the most important relationship...



   

                   

of my life.



   

                   

After all these years,

I am offering myself to you.



   

                   

The real me.



   

                   

- My real self.

- Get out, peter.



   

                   

- Is this about me?

- No. No. It's about peter.



   

                   

- Who's peter?

- He's my ex-husband.



   

                   

Oh, I didn't... I didn't know

you were married.



   

                   

I'm    years old.

We met yesterday.



   

                   

Look, i'm sorry. I'm sorry.



   

                   

He just... he told me

some stuff about us.



   

                   

- About us?

- No, not us "us"...



   

                   

but... him and me "us. "



   

                   

When we were married.



   

                   

Like... maybe he did

some cheating?



   

                   

He probably fucked you

at some point.



   

                   

You know what, louise?



   

                   

This is about me.



   

                   

I've entered your bloodstream.

You know? And he can smell it.



   

                   

He's jealous. That's all.

He wants you back.



   

                   

- You think?

- Yeah, I think.



   

                   

And, hey, you know,

it's not like I don't know the feeling.



   

                   

I've been thinking about you all day.

I have been counting the hours.



   

                   

Then I come over here,

and you're talking about him?



   

                   

I'm jealous!



   

                   

You're jealous?



   

                   

Yeah! L... come on.



   

                   

I want you all to myself.



   

                   

You do?



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

Tonight it's just

you and me. Okay?



   

                   

It's just you and me.



   

                   

We are the only two people

in the entire world.



   

                   

Oh, my god.



   

                   

I had no idea

I was this hungry.



   

                   

So I went out

and checked out some studio spaces.



   

                   

- You're looking?

- Yeah.



   

                   

You know,

if columbia doesn't work out...



   

                   

I gotta have a plan b.



   

                   

Where are you working now?



   

                   

It's this little place you might have

heard of called my mom's basement. Yeah.



   

                   

Well, what are you gonna do?



   

                   

Scott, what would you do

if you couldn't paint?



   

                   

Probably go crazy.



   

                   

What if something happened?



   

                   

What if...

you were driving in your car...



   

                   

and you hit a tree and you went

flying through the windshield?



   

                   

I guess I would...



   

                   

take all the splintered wood...



   

                   

and the shattered glass

and the twisted metal...



   

                   

and i'd mix it

with my blood and my guts...



   

                   

and i'd create this giant...



   

                   

mixed media roadkill sculpture.



   

                   

But you'd be buried

under the ground.



   

                   

But i'd... i'd bust out of there.



   

                   

I'd come racing up through the dirt.



   

                   

I'd bloom into a beautiful flower.



   

                   

With any luck, someone would come by

and take care of me...



   

                   

give me plenty of water

and sunlight.



   

                   

Sounds like

a just-add-water kind of life.



   

                   

No. You know...



   

                   

not if the person...



   

                   

had a gentle touch.



   

                   

Not if they had a green thumb.



   

                   

Can we get dessert?



   

                   

Break it up!



   

                   

Break it up!



   

                   

Hang on one sec.



   

                   

This is ricky. Ricky, louise.



   

                   

- Hi, louise.

- Hi.



   

                   

Are you aware that f. Scott here

is not to be trusted?



   

                   

Dude, just... bounce.



   

                   

- Who was that?

- That's a friend...



   

                   

from the old neighborhood.



   

                   

And why are you

not to be trusted?



   

                   

Oh, that's 'cause

he's being a dickhead.



   

                   

I told my mom I was staying

at his place last week, and I wasn't.



   

                   

He had to cover for me, so...



   

                   

were you with a girl?



   

                   

Well, that was before

I met you, louise.



   

                   

Come with me.



   

                   

- I know what you're thinking.

- What am I thinking?



   

                   

You're thinking that

i'm too young for you.



   

                   

- How do you know what i'm thinking?

- Well, I have powers, louise.



   

                   

No, I do.



   

                   

Yeah.

You want me to prove it?



   

                   

- No.

- I think it would be fun. Come on.



   

                   

Look, you just

met my best friend.



   

                   

I want you to think

of your best friend.



   

                   

Really get a picture of them

in your mind. Okay?



   

                   

- Are you... do you have that picture?

- Okay. I got it.



   

                   

- I really want you to concentrate.

- I got it.



   

                   

Yeah... whoa. This is freaky.



   

                   

Let me see.



   

                   

It's strong tonight.



   

                   

- It's a woman.

- Good.



   

                   

Yeah. It's a woman.



   

                   

She's got dark hair.



   

                   

She lives in a house on a hill.



   

                   

She's got a child.



   

                   

No. Two children.



   

                   

Twins! Twins.

Her name starts with an m.



   

                   

Like m... m...



   

                   

missy? Is it...

is her name missy?



   

                   

- How do you know that?

- I told you, louise.



   

                   

I know everything

there is to know about you.



   

                   

I'm just... i'm kidding.



   

                   

I spoke with missy yesterday

on the phone.



   

                   

- You spoke with missy?

- Yeah.



   

                   

I came running out of the bathroom.

I was dripping wet.



   

                   

I was, you know...

I was hoping it'd be you.



   

                   

She said she was your best friend.

Is that true?



   

                   

It's true.



   

                   

What else did she say?



   

                   

She told me about...



   

                   

I don't know.

She told me about marcos.



   

                   

And the twins.



   

                   

F. Scott.



   

                   

Yeah?



   

                   

Let's go home.



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

Take off your clothes.



   

                   

Well, I like this.



   

                   

Walk back and forth.



   

                   

Walk...



   

                   

you'd leave

a good-lookin' corpse.



   

                   

Well, that's the best thing

about dying young, right?



   

                   

You know

what the worst thing is?



   

                   

- About dying young?

- About dying when you're still perfect.



   

                   

I'm not perfect.



   

                   

- Well, you're a little scrawny.

- Wiry.



   

                   

- Wiry.

- Thank you.



   

                   

And, you know, this...

this is gonna go eventually.



   

                   

That's what i'm talking about.



   

                   

The worst thing about dying young

is that your work has no relevance.



   

                   

Why?



   

                   

'Cause you got off easy.



   

                   

You skipped out on all the countless

humiliations life had planned for you.



   

                   

So, then,

as a career choice...



   

                   

you would advise

against dying young.



   

                   

Let's play a game.



   

                   

- It's a pretend game.

- Pretend?



   

                   

What shall we pretend?



   

                   

Go to the mirror

and look at your reflection.



   

                   

Oh, yeah.



   

                   

Now i'm gonna

describe a situation to you.



   

                   

You ready?



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

It's the future.



   

                   

You're    years old.



   

                   

- Can you imagine that?

- Yeah.



   

                   

You're    years old...



   

                   

and you're a failure as an artist.



   

                   

I mean, you haven't

completely stopped fighting.



   

                   

You haven't completely

given up the ghost, but...



   

                   

it's been years and years, and your work

hasn't achieved any real acclaim.



   

                   

I don't care about acclaim,

just as long as I get to keep working.



   

                   

Of course,

which is why you haven't quit.



   

                   

But today

you're feeling particularly fragile.



   

                   

This morning... it's morning,

and you're getting dressed for work.



   

                   

Where do I work?



   

                   

You work for your uncle

selling cars...



   

                   

in new jersey.



   

                   

- Wow.

- It's a long commute.



   

                   

- You're running late.

- I'm a car salesman.



   

                   

- Used cars.

- Wow.



   

                   

And here's where you have

to use your imagination.



   

                   

What you're wearing.

Look at yourself.



   

                   

Imagine that you're wearing...



   

                   

a dress shirt, boxers...



   

                   

black socks and nothing else.



   

                   

And you're tying your tie.



   

                   

- I don't know how to tie a tie.

- Exactly.



   

                   

You never learned how.

That's why you need me to help you.



   

                   

And who are you, louise?



   

                   

- You my wife?

- I am. I'm your wife.



   

                   

Usually I tie your ties

and hang them on the doorknob...



   

                   

so all you have to do is slip them

over your head, but I forgot today, so...



   

                   

you need my help.



   

                   

And here's another thing

you have to imagine.



   

                   

You've gotten chubby

over the years.



   

                   

Your hair has started to thin.



   

                   

- Can you imagine that?

- Yeah.



   

                   

And today's one of those days

when you look in the mirror...



   

                   

and you wonder if you have

any fucking purpose at all in life.



   

                   

You're having a moment

of serious doubt.



   

                   

- I'm scared.

- You're terrified.



   

                   

You're terrified.



   

                   

And here I am.

I'm standing behind you, tying your tie.



   

                   

You, a grown man in your boxers

and black socks.



   

                   

I'm standing here like your mother,

and I look down at your stomach and...



   

                   

you have love handles.



   

                   

They're oozing out

over your boxers.



   

                   

I reach down, grab them,

give them a jiggle...



   

                   

and I say, "darling...



   

                   

why don't you take up jogging?"



   

                   

Imagine me saying that to you...



   

                   

just like that.



   

                   

Singsong, like a joke.



   

                   

- And what do I say?

- Nothing.



   

                   

You say nothing.



   

                   

There's nothing you can say.



   

                   

You just have to stand there

until I finish.



   

                   

You just have to suck it up.



   

                   

- That's pretty harsh.

- You bet.



   

                   

And guess what.



   

                   

It's just the tip of the iceberg.



   

                   

But...



   

                   

it's that humiliation that will

connect you to the rest of us.



   

                   

It's that feeling that

will give your work meaning.



   

                   

I know what this is about.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

- Why you're so angry.

- I'm not angry.



   

                   

It's about peter.



   

                   

He hurt you like crazy, louise.



   

                   

I know it's fresh...



   

                   

but you have to listen to me.



   

                   

He has nothing...



   

                   

look at me. Look at me.



   

                   

F. Scott?



   

                   

Mom?



   

                   

What's wrong, darling?



   

                   

Everything.



   

                   

Peter has a girlfriend.

Can you believe it?



   

                   

Yes, I can.



   

                   

So how did you find out?



   

                   

Peter told me.



   

                   

He told me a lot of things.



   

                   

Is she young?



   

                   

Her name is farrah.



   

                   

Do you know

why I love it out here?



   

                   

All i'm responsible for

is this little piece of dirt.



   

                   

No more saving the world.



   

                   

No more fighting injustice.



   

                   

Just me and my babies.



   

                   

Is sammy coming for dinner?



   

                   

I never know when he's coming.

He works such long hours.



   

                   

- But you baked a pie.

- I keep a little something, just in case.



   

                   

You know, you always complain

that we never see each other...



   

                   

but maybe if you baked me a pie,

i'd be magically compelled to visit.



   

                   

You don't eat pie, darling.



   

                   

Twice in one week!

That's a world record.



   

                   

- I need to know something.

- What?



   

                   

How could you?



   

                   

How could I what?



   

                   

Peter.



   

                   

It's his money, louise.



   

                   

I don't care about the money.

That's not what i'm talking about.



   

                   

Okay. So what

are you talking about?



   

                   

You could have told me...



   

                   

about peter, sammy.



   

                   

He asked me not to, louise.

So, no, I could not have.



   

                   

You couldn't or wouldn't?



   

                   

It's not my job to tell you something

you should have figured out for yourself.



   

                   

How can you sit there with such dignity?

You're a drug addict.



   

                   

I'm in recovery.



   

                   

That's right. You just snap your fingers,

everything goes back to normal?



   

                   

- Nothing is normal.

- No, nothing is normal.



   

                   

'Cause you're a grown man sitting

in your mother's kitchen eating pie.



   

                   

Your mother, who you stole from.



   

                   

Yeah, that's right.

I'm here in her kitchen.



   

                   

I'm here.

Where have you been?



   

                   

In your office,

watching your family fall apart?



   

                   

Watching your husband flush his life

down the toilet? Where have you been?



   

                   

You don't know anything

about my marriage.



   

                   

You know, asking the universe for pity...



   

                   

is a waste of time.



   

                   

The universe doesn't care.



   

                   

It doesn't care

that my entire life was a lie.



   

                   

It doesn't care

that our mother's getting older.



   

                   

Doesn't care about you, me and the...



   

                   

it sure as hell doesn't care

about your marriage.



   

                   

Then...



   

                   

why don't you help me out, sammy?



   

                   

Why don't you give me some

of that good old step nine stuff?



   

                   

Find the pattern.



   

                   

- "Pattern. "

- Find the pattern...



   

                   

and put yourself in a position of profit

when the pattern repeats itself.



   

                   

You are so full of shit.



   

                   

Whatever, louise. Jesus.



   

                   

Dignity is a choice.



   

                   

Quit feeling sorry for yourself

and work the problem.



   

                   

Is there a missy goldberg

registered here?



   

                   

It's open.



   

                   

How did you find me?



   

                   

- Pattern recognition.

- You sound like sammy.



   

                   

- Sammy?

- Didn't I tell you?



   

                   

He's helping me with some investments.



   

                   

Whatever it is,

sink all your dough into it.



   

                   

Sink the kids' college funds. Whatever

he says, it's a sure thing, truly.



   

                   

I saw him.



   

                   

- Who? Sammy?

- You know who.



   

                   

You were holding out on me.



   

                   

- What do you think, miss?

- I don't think.



   

                   

I know.



   

                   

It's him! It's scott.



   

                   

- You have a cigarette?

- I quit.



   

                   

I can't believe he's real.



   

                   

- I thought I was going crazy.

- Believe me, it's him.



   

                   

The question is,

what are we gonna do?



   

                   

You must have died

when you first saw him.



   

                   

I couldn't believe my eyes.

But then again, I could.



   

                   

It sort of made sense,

having him there in my office.



   

                   

How'd you find out, miss?



   

                   

Coincidence. Fate.



   

                   

You weren't picking up

in the office...



   

                   

so I rang you at home

and he picked up.



   

                   

Did you know right away?



   

                   

There was the voice.

But it was more than that.



   

                   

It was the words he was using.

It was the way he was making me feel.



   

                   

It felt like him, but I talked to him for half

an hour before I finally asked him his name.



   

                   

- Half an hour?

- I made him say it three times.



   

                   

I actually made the poor kid spell it.

He must have thought I was crazy.



   

                   

So, what was it?

How did he make you feel?



   

                   

Like myself. The real me.



   

                   

- Yes.

- The one i'd forgotten about.



   

                   

Not the me that drives the kids

to school in a fucking suv.



   

                   

Someone else.



   

                   

The girl.



   

                   

That's it exactly.



   

                   

I looked in the mirror, and for

the first time in god knows how long...



   

                   

I saw someone I recognized.



   

                   

It was me. It was my face...



   

                   

not the face

of someone's mother.



   

                   

So I tried to get you

to spill the beans...



   

                   

which you wouldn't do.



   

                   

So I sat on my hands...



   

                   

until I couldn't

fucking take it anymore...



   

                   

and then I came here

to see for myself.



   

                   

- And...

- and...



   

                   

I rang him up.



   

                   

- Where?

- He was over at ricky's.



   

                   

Ricky?

How did you find out about ricky?



   

                   

Scott's mother's

in the phone book.



   

                   

So I called her up,

pretended like I was from columbia.



   

                   

I said I needed to speak to him

right away regarding his application.



   

                   

Then I rang him up...



   

                   

and I invited him to brunch.



   

                   

I said i'd tell him all about you.



   

                   

- So you were with him today.

- Yeah. We had a blast.



   

                   

I bought him socks.



   

                   

- Did he ask about me?

- Sure. He was full of questions.



   

                   

You didn't tell him

about scott, did you?



   

                   

Excuse me. I'm not an idiot.



   

                   

And just how much progress

did you make, missy?



   

                   

Not enough.



   

                   

But enough.



   

                   

- I touched him.

- You touched him?



   

                   

You better believe it, sister.

I touched that creamy skin.



   

                   

How could you hold out

on me, wheezy?



   

                   

- I loved him too, you know.

- I understand that.



   

                   

- But who cares?

- What do you mean?



   

                   

We're not sharing him this time!



   

                   

We tried that. Remember?



   

                   

Here's what I remember.

I remember scott dumped you for me.



   

                   

I remember it was me who shared.

It was me who took pity on you.



   

                   

Besides...



   

                   

he was mine when he died.



   

                   

- I don't care.

- He was mine when he died!



   

                   

So what?



   

                   

If he had lived, he would have

come back to me.



   

                   

He would have seen you

for what you really are.



   

                   

- Which is what?

- A dickhead!



   

                   

Maybe.



   

                   

Or maybe we would've

gotten married...



   

                   

had kids and lived

in a loft in soho.



   

                   

Or maybe he'd be working at his uncle's

car dealership in new jersey.



   

                   

Right. Can you just see him doing that?

You're just jealous.



   

                   

- Jealous of what?

- Jealous that scott and I are married...



   

                   

living in soho with two beautiful kids

and a jack russell terrier.



   

                   

I'm not jealous. He would've dumped you in

three weeks for a sculptress with a toe ring.



   

                   

And then what?

He would've come running back to you?



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

With me he could've had a family.

He could've had kids.



   

                   

You needed in vitro!



   

                   

He could've had that from me.



   

                   

It just wasn't in the cards with you,

wheezy. You are just not a mother.



   

                   

I'm sorry, wheezy...



   

                   

but it's true.



   

                   

Besides, you're forgetting

how he used to treat you.



   

                   

Don't you remember you told me...



   

                   

he used to make you run around naked

so he could poke fun at your body?



   

                   

He was critiquing me!

He was gonna paint my portrait!



   

                   

Which he kept promising to do,

but he never did.



   

                   

He did paint my portrait!

The mother and child!



   

                   

Wheezy! You were   !



   

                   

I'm telling him the truth.

I'm telling him everything.



   

                   

You're gonna fuck it up, louise!



   

                   

F. Scott, what are you doing out here?



   

                   

Waiting for you.



   

                   

Did missy call you?

What did she say?



   

                   

She said that you had

something important to tell me.



   

                   

Let's go inside.



   

                   

Why don't you just tell me

what you came here to tell me?



   

                   

What do you think

i'm here to say?



   

                   

That you're through with me.

That you've had your fun.



   

                   

That's not why i'm here.



   

                   

When I was in high school...



   

                   

I had a boyfriend...



   

                   

and I...



   

                   

went out with him...



   

                   

and then missy went out with him.



   

                   

She stole him from me.



   

                   

And then he was killed.



   

                   

- How?

- Car accident.



   

                   

- Louise, i'm sorry.

- He looked like you.



   

                   

He painted like you.



   

                   

He had your name.



   

                   

- F. Scott?

- Scott feinstadt.



   

                   

His name was scott feinstadt.



   

                   

And missy thinks

i'm a lot like this guy too?



   

                   

She does. She thinks you're him,

or he's you, or...



   

                   

do you understand what i'm saying?



   

                   

Well, what do you think, louise?



   

                   

- What do I think?

- Yeah.



   

                   

You're telling me that missy thinks

i'm some guy back from the dead.



   

                   

- Is that what you think?

- I don't know!



   

                   

Yes. Yes.



   

                   

You said you had

something inside of you.



   

                   

You said you were meant to be here

in this place. You said that.



   

                   

And maybe you're right.



   

                   

Maybe there is something inside of you.

Maybe it brought you here to find me.



   

                   

Some guy broke your heart.



   

                   

And I get that.

That's traumatic.



   

                   

But you know what?



   

                   

- That happens to everybody.

- No. Not like this.



   

                   

That happens...



   

                   

to everybody.



   

                   

Okay? It's called high school.



   

                   

And you know what?



   

                   

Usually people learn

from the experience...



   

                   

and then they just

move on with their lives.



   

                   

Maybe they shouldn't.



   

                   

Maybe that's what's wrong with the world...

everybody, they're just moving on.



   

                   

When you're working and nothing's coming,

do you just get up and walk away?



   

                   

Do you?



   

                   

- Okay, I don't want to fight, louise.

- Well, what if I want to?



   

                   

It takes two.



   

                   

F. Scott!



   

                   

- Hello.

- Hi.



   

                   

Shit.



   

                   

Are you okay?



   

                   

I just wanted

to tell you the truth, lou.



   

                   

For once I wanted the words coming out

of my mouth to bring us closer together.



   

                   

- Hi.

- Listen.



   

                   

Let me guess. Peter.



   

                   

Yeah. Who are you?



   

                   

He's an mfa applicant.



   

                   

An mfa applicant?

Are you fucking insane?



   

                   

What's going on here?



   

                   

She didn't tell you about me?

I'm the dead guy.



   

                   

Peter, I need you to leave.



   

                   

No. I think i'm gonna stay.



   

                   

Yeah, stick around. We'll all

grab hands and have a seance.



   

                   

Peter, please.

Let me handle this.



   

                   

- Yeah, you better let her handle this.

- Watch your tongue.



   

                   

- Get the hell out of here!

- Stop!



   

                   

Peter. Please.



   

                   

- I'll call you in    minutes. Okay?

- Fine.



   

                   

It was a pleasure.



   

                   

I don't believe you.



   

                   

You come over last night

and you fuck with my head...



   

                   

and the whole time you have been

sleeping with your ex-husband?



   

                   

Peter and I did not sleep together

last night.



   

                   

We didn't sleep together much

when we were married.



   

                   

Then what? Is that how

you break up with someone?



   

                   

Tell them they're dead

and just hope they'll go away?



   

                   

The whole thing is just

too fucking mystical for me.



   

                   

You don't think this

is mystical for me too?



   

                   

I wake up yesterday morning...



   

                   

and you're asleep next to me...



   

                   

and i'm freaking out 'cause

everything's so new and different.



   

                   

And then I look over at you...



   

                   

and I am blinded... i'm blinded.



   

                   

You are six inches from my face...



   

                   

and you are so fucking beautiful

I can't even focus my eyes.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

My name's not f. Scott.



   

                   

Okay? It's francis.



   

                   

- Francis?

- Francis scott key feinstadt.



   

                   

I guess I thought f. Scott

sounded cool on the application.



   

                   

- Everyone at home calls me fran.

- Fran?



   

                   

Yeah. Fran.



   

                   

You know what the worst part is?



   

                   

You don't even think

i'm an artist in my own right, do you?



   

                   

I'm just some extension of him.

Right?



   

                   

You know what that is, louise?

The mother and child?



   

                   

- It's a fuckin' joke.

- Don't say that.



   

                   

That's some kid

who kicked over a can of paint...



   

                   

and decided to call it art.



   

                   

Don't say that!



   

                   

I couldn't sleep last night.



   

                   

You know, I was going crazy...



   

                   

trying to make some sense

of what you said.



   

                   

- So you know what I did?

- What?



   

                   

I went and saw missy.



   

                   

And what happened?



   

                   

What do you think happened?



   

                   

Bye.



   

                   

- Have you seen him?

- Yes.



   

                   

We acted like a couple of boys,

didn't we?



   

                   

What happened last night?



   

                   

The kid came up to my room.

We fucked till the sun came up.



   

                   

We did it four, maybe five times.



   

                   

We did everything imaginable.



   

                   

The earth moved.

Is that what you wanna hear?



   

                   

- I wanna hear the truth.

- The truth is, I gave him a shot.



   

                   

I gave him two shots, actually.



   

                   

He wasn't buying. He said no.

Can you believe it?



   

                   

Why, miss? Why?



   

                   

You know how it is.



   

                   

I only wanted him

because you had him.



   

                   

Is that really true?



   

                   

Of course it is. At least

that's what marcos says, anyway.



   

                   

You told marcos?



   

                   

We're meeting this weekend in napa.



   

                   

You said terrible, terrible things

to me last night.



   

                   

You said some pretty terrible things

to me too.



   

                   

- You said terrible things to me.

- I surrender. You won.



   

                   

It's not attractive

to sit around and gloat.



   

                   

Gloat? What are you

talking about? Gloat?



   

                   

Wheezy, would you stop!



   

                   

No two snowflakes

are exactly alike...



   

                   

but these two

are pretty damn close.



   

                   

You have a gorgeous snowflake...



   

                   

who's just dying

to get to know you better.



   

                   

What are you doing?

You're sitting here arguing with me.



   

                   

I swear.



   

                   

Some people just refuse...



   

                   

to let anything good happen to them.



   

                   

This is sammy.



   

                   

- This is louise.

- What's wrong?



   

                   

- There's nothing wrong.

- Gotta call you back then.



   

                   

- Okay?

- I am really proud of you, you know.



   

                   

All right. Eat my butt.



   

                   

I got your message.



   

                   

- I know you were worried.

- Yeah. I was gonna call the police.



   

                   

- I told you I could handle it.

- So you did.



   

                   

You and I are never

gonna work, peter.



   

                   

Even though...



   

                   

we love each other?



   

                   

Even though we love each other.



   

                   

- Fran.

- Hey, louise.



   

                   

Louise, look...



   

                   

what is this, like...



   

                   

some kind of dear john letter?



   

                   

Did you do this?



   

                   

No. Your work did that.



   

                   

Congratulations.



   

                   

And your work is beautiful.



   

                   

Fran, it's beautiful.



   

                   

Louise, thank you.



   

                   

So...



   

                   

so.



   

                   

It's a beautiful day, so...



   

                   

yeah, it is.



   

                   

I guess i'll see you later.



   

                   

I know where to find you.











  

 
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