All language subtitles for Feud.S02E06.WEB.x264-TORRENTGALAXY

I'm late. I'm late. I know.

My poor Dutch Master daffodils
were positively shivering
in this cold.

I had to get them all in
before the deep freeze.

There's still
one shivering daffodil
who needs you.

I'm sorry,
my little flower.

Thank you for running
this errand with me.

I need durable straw hats
for gardening.

Terry is the only one I trust.

Not today.

You'll have to come back
for the closeout sale.

Terry.

Oh, Mrs. Guest, Mr. Capote.

What-- A closeout sale?

Terry, no. Galore
is an institution,
and you've been here forever.

Forty-four years.

Nobody wants hats anymore,
I'm afraid.

The end of an era.

I was planning to retire,
but I didn't think
it would be like this.

Where am I going to get
my good gardening hats now?

Well, how many have
you got left, Terry?

Doesn't matter.
I'll take them all.

I'll get some for
Bunny Mellon as well.

Well, she's gonna be just sick.

I'll go see
what we have in the back.

CZ, do you remember that
Easter a few years ago?

You, me, Slim, Lee, and Babe
had Good Friday lunch
at La Côte.

And we got so tipsy we thought
we'd be brash and brassy

and buy outlandish
Easter bonnets.

And Babe found that towering
floral thing with ribbons
flowing down her back.

And then it had faux lilies
like whipped cream.

She looked like a dessert.
I told her so.

I've never seen
Babe laugh so hard.

How is she?

Um.

She's good.
She's getting the best care.

It hasn't spread to
any other organs, so...
Hmm.

A heart so cold even cancer
couldn't touch it.

Truman, don't.

Oh,
I'm gonna miss hats.

In the South everyone wore them.

Rich folk, poor folk,
white, colored.

A hat was a symbol of hope.

My mother had
a marvelous collection.

She used to let me
keep the boxes.

The tissue paper, the smells.

- I've got ten left, Mrs. Guest.
- Hmm.

-I-I can't do delivery anymore.
-Oh, no matter.

I'll send Louise around.

Should I?

Let's swing by Tiffany's.

Kate's in her final year
of school,

and I want to surprise her
with a string of pearls.

"The real thing
for the real thing."

That's what I'm gonna
write on the card.

And how's it going
with your protégé?

Oh, my God.
She's the second coming.

And she was born to model.

I'm going to turn her
into the next Veruschka.

Veruschka?
She's ancient.

All the girls wanna be
like Christie Brinkley now.

No, but Kate's
not like that.

That Colgate smile,
vulgar tan nonsense.

She's a classic beauty.

She's beautiful
because she's young.

Everybody who's young
is beautiful.

I only wish someone had told me
that when I was that age.

Oh, everybody told you.

Hmm. It's good.

Don't you think you
could go a tad higher?

You know, Dusty Springfield used
to tuck a maxi pad under there

to give it more oomph.

Where's your pocketbook, Kate?

-I'll see if you got one.
-No, Truman.

What's got your bonnet
in a bunch?

This is your big day.

Girls would be tripping over
themselves to get a photo shoot
with Dick Avedon.

- Sorry.
- Hmm.

I am grateful.

It's just...

Well, I mean,
it's a little matronly.

Why don't you leave the styling
to the stylists.

Back when I threw
my Black and White Ball in 1966,

Mr. Kenneth's salon was hotter
than Studio 54.

Thought you were
gonna stop drinking.

Champagne isn't drinking.

It's good for the stomach,
like a digestif.

Don't you pull your sour puss
with me, dear.

Dick is going to fawn over you.

And so will
all the magazine editors
I'm going to hook you up with.

Grace Mirabella at Vogue.
She's a dear friend.

By this time next year
you'll be on the cover.

Now, Kenneth.
How are we getting along?

We mustn't be late for lunch.

Yes.

We need to--

Babe.

Babe.

Hello.
Hello.

Welcome to La Côte Basque.
Thank you.

Right this way, please.

See? Not a soul here
can take their eyes off you.

Yes,
I'm aware of that.

Well, what's the matter?
You're as stiff as
a B movie robot.

How many B movie robots
went around disguised like
50-year-old society ladies?

You just need some snails and
some oysters to loosen you up,
darling.

Now hold your head high
and stop frowning.

You'll get lines like
the Mariana Trench.

The what?

"'O Oysters, come and walk with me!
' The Walrus did beseech.

'A pleasant walk,
a pleasant talk,
along the briny beach.

We cannot do with
more than four,
to give a hand to each.'"

Mmm.

Lewis Carroll, my dear.
Mmm.

Bravo.

How do you remember
all these poems?

I listen.

Now, I have listened
to your complaints
about my dragging you

to too many lunches
with my friends.
Oh, good.

And I have come up
with the perfect solution,
dear Kate.

Eavesdropping.

Eavesdropping?

If you want to be a writer,

or any person of note, actually,

you must realize the importance
of that which is overheard.

The next table over--

great title, by the way,
it's yours, darling--

...is where all the action is.

If your table is dull,
and you may well be
at a dull table in life.

I do sympathize.

But you master the art
of listening to
who's right over there.

You really actually
don't believe in privacy
at all, do you, Truman?

Come on, Truman.
Don't be a stick-in-the-mud.

Nobody's more fun than me.

Princess Margaret, maybe.

I got you that.

Oh, you.

Let's have some île flottante
for dessert.

He's starting
to sink into himself.

The cost of it.

All his betraying and nastiness.

Look at him.

It catches up.

You earn the face you deserve.

That's his new protégé.

That horrible man
John's poor daughter.

He's trying to mold her.
Hmm.

He changed her last name
to erase her dad.

Erase. I'd like to warn her.

Well, he's got
her dressed like she's at
a flower show in Minneapolis.

Remember what happened
with Eliza Doolittle?

She dumped Henry Higgins.

I think My Fair Lady
is the right cautionary tale.

All right,
let's get to brass tacks.
Hmm.

Is Peter Beard really
ready to marry you?

Spill the beans.

Yes, I think so.

Well, he's kicked
the barbiturates.

He's got enough money
to keep us going.

God, he's so sexy, I don't
even care about the money.
It's the sex.

Montauk. Those weekends.

Yes. But, Lee, you can't
be having money issues.

Sell the place in London.
You're never there. Or Paris.

I need them in case.

I just wish he would
fucking stop coming here.

I could throw
a glass of Prosecco in his face.

Maybe then he'd get the message.

No, he would just lap it up.

We're going to be exemplary
and you know it.

We would be in The Post
tomorrow, if not tonight.

Every waiter is a spy
and every diner
is someone's tipster.

Oh, hi. My God.
I didn't see you back there.

You both look wonderful.
So wonderful.

Lee, I need to tell you so much.

Your sister and--

No. Well, let's-- I'll save it.

Yes, do.

So, a new Swan?

A cygnet in training, yes?

-Hello, dear.
-Hi.

Oh, yes. We're off to Dick's,
he's photographing her.

Kate Harrington,
this is Lee Radziwill.

Hmm.

I'd let my hair fall naturally,
were I you, darling.

I mean,
you're not in the Daughters
of the American Revolution.

Send Dickie my best.

Can we have lunch?

Sure, Truman. Sure.

Call me.

Well, maybe
we don't have dessert

before Dick shoots you, my dear.

What?

Jesus, Truman. You've--

You've dressed her for
a goddamn Westport ladies
auxiliary lunch tea party.

I mean, where's
the cucumber sandwiches?

I told you, Truman.

You see? She told you, Truman.

Kate, come here.

Follow me. We'll fix this.

-Jules, hey.
-Yeah, Dick?

Take Kate and you two find
some crap you like,

while I explain what year it is
to Uncle Truman.

Oh, and, uh, let Jules fix
your hair. He's a genius.

You're gonna be great.

Nothing here can't be fixed.

It's magic land.

What's the matter with you?
What do you think you're doing?

It's 1978. What year
are you stuck in?

Well, I can't tell you,
honestly.

Jesus, Tru. What are you--

What are you doing?

Are you working?

Yes. On the book, Dickie.

Hmm. No, you're not.

Well, my confidence took
a bit of a knock after
what happened, sure.

Yeah. And wasting more
of your time trying to
sell yourself to the movies?

Are you letting
all those ladies get to you?

I mean, I told them.

What did you tell them, Dick?

"What did you expect of him?
He's a writer.

You think he was just
gonna watch you guys
and not use any of it?"

Thank you, Richard.

It's time to move on.
Get your fire back.

You want the schadenfreude
assholes who rule this town
to win?

Don't let them win.

So what do you want, dear?

Do you really wanna model?

I'm not sure. I might be better
at the styling part.

Yeah?

Dance, would ya?

Dance?
Yeah, dance. Movement.

Movement is youth, Kate.

Uh-huh.

Sure.

Movement is what, Dick?

Youth, Truman.
Movement is youth.

You never made me dance
or move around.

That's because you were
always so drunk,

I was afraid you were gonna fall
and break your goddamn neck.

Oh, Kate,
you're beautiful for sure.

But don't let Truman
make you be his little poppet.

He's got ulterior motives.
He's got history.

Right, Truman?

Truman, I want to sit down.

Is there anywhere
to actually sit?

No.
Didn't I just tell you?

Dear, our movement is youth.
You gotta keep moving, CZ.

Time never stops.
Can't let it get ahead of you.

If you blink, baby,
the world passes you by.

May be too late, kid.

I don't like this.

Two sweaty oldies
but goodies puttering
around the dance floor.

God, it's unseemly.

I look like the grandmother
from the Addams family.

No, you look happy, CZ.

All publicity's good publicity.
What is it that Andy says?

"The only thing that matters
is how many column inches
you take up on the page."

If you're an artist maybe.

But in my circles it's all
about knowing when to enter
and when to exit.

Look, we had our time.

The Black and White Ball,
the twist. That was ours.
Not disco.

I will not be seen
like this again.

You know, I was coming back
from Dick's the other day,

and I happened to touch Kate's
hand in the back of the cab.

It was startling.

Look at these liver spots.

And the thing is,
I still feel like I'm 30.

So why shouldn't I act like it?

Everybody gets old
and then they just go,
"Oh, I guess I'm old."

And so then
they shrivel up and die.

But maybe the secret
to immortality

is to never admit defeat.

The secret to immortality
for you, Truman, is to write.

Keep writing.

My God. You've sacrificed
so much for this book.

Just finish it
and you'll live forever.
Mmm.

Because he won't screw her.

That's why she's wearing
that hideous little wrist brace.

No, it's nothing
to do with tennis.

It's his endless demand
for hand jobs.

Mrs. Watson wants to know
when you're gonna pay your tab.

It's true.
He sits there flipping through

the chorus boys' headshots...
You're two months late.

...while she's pumping away.

Oh, for heaven's sake.

Diane, I am going
to have to call you back.

The inquisition has arrived.

Same to you. All right.

That happened to be
a very important call,

if you care to know.

Do you even want to stop
with this?

I have to drink.

I am going on television
tonight, a talk show,
and I get nervous.

I gotta be on,

and there's a sweet spot
right around three
and a half drinks

when I really sing.

You said
you were gonna write today.

You promised me.

Yeah, tell me,
what did I promise you?

Paying your bills, getting
you headshots by the best,

and an agent, and jobs.
Is that not enough?

Hmm?

Oh, dear, dear, dear, dear.

I didn't mean...

It's just--

I'm doing the best I can.

You have to believe me, Kate.
I...

You know, three years ago
I said on Johnny Carson's show

that Jacqueline Susann looked
like a truck driver in drag.

And I am still reaping
the benefits from that
one little joke.

All the talk shows want me on.

They want me to talk
about my feuds

and who I love
and who I hate, and--

That's how I pay the rent now.

It's not through writing,
it's through being a persona.

That's my career now.

You're just like him.

Papa.

I thought you were different...

but it's always the same,
isn't it?

It's all the same.

Shh.

You're right. I know.
I know. I know.

Just let me get through tonight.

I don't know
what kind of men
are going to be left.

I mean, Peter Beard.
Oh, he-- he was a throwback
to the swashbucklers,

but there's not a lot like him.

I mean,
have all the straight men
moved back to Los Angeles?

Ten years is all I can do
in a marriage.

Ten with Howard,
ten with Leland,
and ten with Ken.

Don't laugh. Come on.

At least-- At least now
divorce is a badge of honor
and not a scarlet letter.

Well, except we expect it
to always stay magical
and exciting.

It doesn't have
to be good, Slim.

It just has to be reliable.

No, Cee. Why can't it be
everything all at once?

Sex, money,
and an endless adventure.

Because that would be
yet another story.

Did you catch Truman's
talk show appearance?

Gore Vidal is suing

and Truman, in order
not to be served papers,

is apparently hiding in a rehab.

He's trying. He really is.

He told me, Lee,
he tried to call you
because you told the story.

You can confirm it.

If you testify,
you could save him.
His reputation.

And what's more is
he has no money now.

He could lose it all.

The story of Jackie
being manhandled by Gore.

I have no recollection of it.

It never happened.
I never told it.

Besides, really,
I am so tired of it all.

Just two fags fighting.
I'm not getting involved anyway.

The way she said it.
"Just two fags fighting."

I mean, really, Lee,
we owe them a modicum
of respect.

The homosexuals, I mean.

We've all relied on walkers
over the years.

A safe man to take us out,
laugh with.

A buffer against
prying eyes and hands.

What's more,
a homosexual won't drop you
after you reach a certain age.

If anything,
they lift you higher.

It is a vital relationship.

There's a way one can be
in their company

that's different
than how you have to be
with other women.

You can finally drop the armor.

I don't know if today's women
wear armor at all.

They don't have to.
They're liberated.

Having to go out with a man,
gay or straight, it's over.

The end of the walker.

Oh, gosh.
I need gloves. Yes.

With all these treatments

I'm beginning to understand
what a pincushion must feel
like.

Needles in my hands, arms.

Bill noticed the bruising
and, of course,
had to make a comment.

So, from now on, I'm going
to be covered every hour,
every day.

Driving gloves, day wear gloves.

Hell, I'm even
going to start a trend.

Watching TV wearing gloves.
And you know I can do it.

Darling, when you have cancer,
it's okay to have cancer.

Wait.

Where-- Where is it?

Excuse me, dear.
What's happened to
the glove department?

The glove department?

Yes, Mrs. Pigeon?

Oh, yes. She's retired.
Hmm.

We may have something
over in hosiery,

but our clientele don't wear
a lot of gloves anymore.

We try to keep
a very current inventory.

You might try Lord and Taylor.

Palm Springs is
the perfect place to dry out

because you never
wanna go out anywhere.

It's all washed-up starlets
and old queens.

Prickly as the cacti
that stand guard over
their white stucco fortresses.

What are you doing right now?

Oh, just writing.

Well, I can go.
I don't wanna disturb you.

No, no.
It's perfect timing, dear.

I've been scribbling away
all morning.

It's very Proustian.

That's great.
Is the book shaping up as you'd hoped?

- What, honey?
- I said, is the book shaping up as you'd hoped?

Not at all.
And I couldn't be happier.

What do you mean?

Well, you'll find this
in your own work.

When you sit down to write,

the book will tell you what
it really wants to be about.

Mm-hmm.
This particular novel, Answered Prayers,

insists that it's going to be
about friendships.

How unlivable life is
without them.

Now, I was charged a hefty price
for this insight, surely.

But I'm starting to see
that maybe it was
what needed to happen

in order for me to write.

I'm really
happy for you, Truman.

Kate, come on.
Get off the phone.

Oh, gosh.
Just a second.

I hope you wipe down
that telephone receiver.

You never know where anything
in Andy's Factory has been.

Go out, be young,
paint yourself blue

and run around in the nude.

Okay.

Once you get to be my age,

all you'll want to do is retreat

and never be nude ever.

Oh, that's the handyman, love.
I gotta go.

Okay.
Hugs and kisses.

Okay, bye.

Mmm. Coming.

Howdy.

Here about the garbage disposal?

Howdy yourself. Come right in.

Mmm. Well, I never knew
the importance of
the garbage disposal.

Who knew it was so essential
to modern life?

I only encountered it
when I was unable to shred

the remains of the Coquilles
Saint-Jacques.

When I hit the thing,
you see here?

It doesn't do the thing.

Might be the shredding disk.
Oh.

Did you check if you tripped up
the overload protector?

No. It's just--

When I hit the thing,
it doesn't do th--
the thing.

I got you, buddy. Come here,
let me show you how it works.

So, you wanna push
that red button down.

Hold it for about three seconds.

That should reset it.
You wanna give it a try?

If Jack could see me now.

Two, three.

There you go. All right.

Mmm. Is that it?

Well, might need to
get in there for a second.

Mm-hmm.

Usually when something breaks,

I just learn to live around it.

Jack is, um. Oh, never mind.

Tell me about you.

Who are you? Where are you from?

Not from Palm Springs?

Mmm. No.

Illinois. Born and bred.

Illinois.
Yes, I thought as much.

You're too corn-fed
to be a desert rat.

So, did you come out here
for a girl?

To get away
from one actually.

Yeah, she was awful pretty.

Almost married her too.

Her dad had
a sugar beet factory.

Could have set me up real good.

Mmm. A beautiful girl.
A stable job.

And yet you came running
out to the desert.

So you're an experiences person.

Life over comfort.

I'm exactly the same way.

What's your dream?
If you could do anything
in the world?

Probably open a hog shop.

A what?

You know, motorcycles.
Sell them, fix them.

That's my Harley-Davidson
outside.

1976 Super Glide.

Mmm.

Harley-Davidson motorcycles.

Illinois.

How fascinating.

Yeah.

All done.

You know, I usually
do air conditioning repair too.

Marvelous.

Say, Rick.

I wonder if you'd be
at all interested in
having your cock sucked.

So, have you ever
let a man do that to you

or just plain Jane
in Buckwheat, Illinois?

No, never.

Might have been
the best blow job

I've ever had in my life though.

Well, the secret is to glide
with the thumb.

My friend Wallis Simpson
summers in Nantes.

She picks up these priceless
little nuggets of wisdom
from fishermen.

Nantes.

Where is that?

France, dear heart.
Have you been to Europe?

Been once. Went to Korea.

Well, that's the best part
of Europe.

If you've seen Korea,
you've seen the whole place.

You're just darling.

Don't ever change. Promise me.

Hmm.

You know, a lot of guys
have trouble

looking another man in the eyes
when they're together,

but you're not afraid
of anything, are you?

Hmm.

Don't like snakes much.

Well, I don't know about you,
but I've worked up an appetite.

What do you say we go
to Hamburger Hamlet?

I'll buy you anything you want.

I bet you can put away
three milkshakes, huh?

Mmm.

Afraid I gotta be
hitting the road.

I got a 4:00
in the Movie Colony. AC.

Well...

I'll just have to
come with you then.

Sing it, man.
Scream into the wind.

I don't know it.

Is this a big song right now?

It's the big song.

Well, I guess
that makes me officially old.

The lyrics to popular songs
are code for the young
and the young only.

Once you don't know them,
you're no longer in the club.

No. So, socialites,
they do shit.

You just don't usually
catch them in the act.

However, on a yacht,
the quarters are very close.
It's much harder to be discreet.

Now, my friend Minnie Pearl,
she'd been married ten years.

And as far as her husband knew,
she'd only ever used the toilet

to flush
the occasional goldfish.

And she planned to keep
that appearance up,
thank you very much.

So, for four weeks at sea,
she didn't crap once.

She was so horribly stopped up,

her belly was sticking out
further than her feet.

She was having contractions.

Finally, they were forced
to drop anchor,

and a Croatian doctor
gave her a suppository.

Do you know what that is?

When they take
a big old horse pill,
and they slather it in Crisco

-and they stick it up
your butthole. Yes.
-Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

So, that night she gave birth
to a shit baby.

And honest to God,
she dropped 13 pounds.

Thirteen pounds?

But here's the kicker.
Guess what the name
of the boat was?

What?
The Royal Flush.

The Royal Flush!

That can't be true.

Is it?
Well, if it isn't,
it should be.

You're a funny man.

A funny man, Truman.

I'm going back to
New York on Monday.
Why don't you come with me?

You're smart, witty, charming.

You're much too big
for this town.

Really?

You think?

Isn't New York all fancy?

Oh, fancy is over.

It apparently went out
with the pillbox hat.

Rosalynn Carter
has ushered in a new era.

Real is what's in.

People want salt of the earth,
straight shooters.

You know, in high school,
I won homecoming king
two years in a row.

You see, you were born
for the society life.

They'll gobble you right up.

What would I talk about?

Well, you could talk
about anything you like.

What would you want
to talk about?

I don't know.

You should see what happens
when people try to fix
their own air conditioner.

Very interesting, Rick.

I fail to grasp the basic
principle of cooling air.

These are the mysteries
that keep you up at night, Tru?

- It's all about
the Freon, babe.

The gas goes through
the condenser,

makes its way through the coils,
comes out as liquid.

We should order the gooseberry
soufflé for dessert.
It takes a while, so--

But you need
the right tools.

Gauge for the condenser,
mallets, hacksaws,
chisels, files.

I'm taking Rick
to They're Playing Our Song
on Broadway.

Lucie Arnaz is in it.

Yeah, I know them
from Palm Springs.

Lucille Ball. Hell of a gal.

Yeah, I met little Lucy
swimming laps.

We're gonna go backstage
and see them, right, Truman?

So, do we know?
Is Lee in town?

I had to fix Lucy's condenser once.
Freon everywhere.

Palm Springs
in summer is wonderful.

We go to the movies every time
we go. It's the only cool place.

Saw That's Entertainment,
A Star is Born, and
Pink Panther Strikes Again.

All in one day
when it was 120 degrees out.

Guess who keeps
those movie theaters cool?

- I'm going mad.
- I'm actually going mad.

CZ, have you seen Lee?

Because she's going to
help me with this hideous
lawsuit of Gore's.

You're being sued? Why?

Oh, because, dearest man,
I-I went on a talk show,

and I dared to tell the truth
about Gore Vidal.

Who's Gore Vidal?

Oh, an untalented
hack of a writer

who was thrown out
of the White House
by Robert Kennedy Jr.

for insulting Jackie's mother,
Mrs. Hugh D. Auchincloss.

And then he had the nerve
to touch Jackie violently
and inappropriately

on the right shoulder.
He was drunk.

A man should never touch
a girl. Like, never do that.

But Gore denies
all this, you see.

And Lee is Jackie's sister,

she's going to confirm
that what I said
is utterly true.

Just-Just apologize to Gore
and it all goes away.

Really? Do you--
Do you actually wanna be
mired in a lawsuit with him?

Just be friends, Truman.

Friends?

No, I do feel sad for Gore.

Very sad that he has
to breathe every day.

Never back down when
a pretentious toady spits
Freon at you, dear heart,

or they'll just keep doing it.

The wit and wisdom
of Truman Capote, part ten.

I never met a man who has
a natural aroma like you have.

You smell like some sort of
hazelnut, patchouli, lemon,
desert, sage.

It oozes out of every pore.

Come on, Truman.
That's ticklish.

But I've been looking forward to
you loosening me up.

This Gore stuff.

I thought you'd like to do me
like in that porno I showed you.

Boys in the Sand.

Well, I do, but I'm tired.

All that shopping and that fancy
French restaurant. Come on.

What do you mean?

Come on. I mean,
I have certain needs, you know.

Now we're like an old pair of
shoes together after one month.

Look, your friend Andy
is on Love Boat.

Ooh, look at him.
My God, it's a horror show.

They put embalming fluid
in his foundation, didn't they?

Well, I should be on this.

They'd love to have me,
wouldn't they?

Don't you think,
if Andy's doing it?

Yeah.

Look at my skin.

It's all lines
like a map of the Nile.

And yours is as plump
and fresh as a newborn's.

It's all the vodka.

Sucks out the moisture
till you're as dry as
an old smoked kipper.

Shh.

Truman, watch the show.
It's so good.

Look, do you want to--

Do you want me
to let you blow me
during the commercials?

Yeah?
Fantasy Island is on next.

Okay?

Well,
it's finally happened.

What's happened?

I've gone out of style.

Truman, the fact is
Gore Vidal has a good case
for defamation,

and Lee Radziwill
is not returning my calls.

Lee's not calling you back?
But aren't you her attorney too?

I handled the divorce,
yeah, but the-- lawsuits
make people squeamish.

They behave like
you're contagious
as though it's a leprosy.

I'll write a draft of
an apology for you--

No! No apologies. No.

No. If you don't mind,
I'm calling CZ Guest.
I'm fed up.

Secrets. These women
and their secrets.

- Hello?
-Dear heart, it's Uncle Truman here.

Look, I really need
to ask you something.

Well,
make it quick, Uncle.

Cornelia and I
are making samosas

for her show-and-tell
at school.

Look, why is Lee doing
everything she can

not to help me with
this wretched Gore situation?

Oh, God, Truman.
Do I have to be dragged into the middle of this?

Cornelia,
that's enough cumin, darling.

No, you know
and you're not telling me.

Truman. Okay.
Here's what it is.

She's not going to help you.

She's not?

She made a nasty remark.

Well, what did Lee say?

They are two fags.

It's the most disgusting--

I'm not getting involved anyway.

It's that side of her
that's just savage.

I suppose I should have
told you, but it was too ugly,

and I thought you'd have
settled it with Gore by now.

Lee said that?

Well, I hope someone's telling
her that her new love interest,
Mr. Herbert Ross,

has sucked more cocks than
a deckhand in the Fire Island
Ferry, come August.

I have to go.
Just apologize to Gore and move on.

Now, that's a kick
in the rubber parts, Burt.

Lee.

I'm afraid she's just had
too much pain in her life
to help a friend now.

Truman, apologize to Gore Vidal
for God's sake.

All this stress is killing you.

You need to finish the book.

I can't keep defending you
to Random House.

Go down to my house in Boca.

Dry out
and finish Answered Prayers.

Enough with the dramas, please.

Aren't you tired?

Aren't I tired?

Exhausted, Burt.
Simply exhausted.

But if everyone's
turning against me,
when do I dare sleep?

I mean, it's happened
before, this thing they do.

This shaming.
This use of the word "fag."

And I don't know why.

Is this what all women do
behind the backs
of their gay friends?

Oh, Truman. You're talking
about Lee Radziwill.

Perhaps the unhappiest,
most covetous famous sister
in New York, if not America.

And Ann Woodward,
a self-murdering killer
for God's sake.

This is not exactly
a representative demographic.

No. I think
it's pervasive, Jack.

It's contempt,
and we just live with it
humming in the background.

Gay men have always had
these particular kind of
women friends

who all have
their odd arid marriages
and their little affairs.

And we're sort of Pomeranians
to them, aren't we?

There to cuddle when they need
something fluffy to hold on to,

but should we growl
or show our teeth,

then it's off
to the pound we go.

Yes. Let me explain
something to you
and perhaps you'll hear it.

Whatever force that
hypnotized you about
your fucking Swans was--

It's distortion, Truman.
This is-- This is a mirage.

These are entrapped lost souls,

these ladies of Manhattan
that you've collected.

And you're so much better now
that the spell is broken.

I don't think that
you actually realize

that you wrote La Côte Basque

in order to free yourself
of them.

So, what now? What?
You're scared?

You amputated them.

You never really needed them.

Jack, Jack, Jack.

So much wisdom in you.

I spend so much time
resenting that about you,

and it's the thing
I most love about you.

What?

Look at them.

Babes in arms.

Were we ever that young?

We were younger,
actually, when we met.

Were we?

Mm-hmm.

Do you really have to go back
to Switzerland, Jack?

Oh, come on.
You got Kid Freon, okay?

I'm heading back, yes.

Skiing is good right now,
and I have my own book
to finish.

We're still us.

Even when I'm not here...

we're us.

I didn't have a booze problem,

I had a tranquilizing problem.

I was taking a lot
of tranquilizers,

'cause I am an extremely
highly strung person.

And I always have been.

And I have been taking
tranquilizers for over
a period of ten years,

which is a long time.

And it's not how many,
it's the cumulative effect
of them.

I mean, these doctors
that are handing out
these Valiums

in liberal amounts
as though they were popcorn.

I mean,
they're out of their mind

because it accumulates
in your, uh,
whole nervous system.

And-- And people thought
that I had some kind of
a drinking problem,

but I didn't.

I had a very serious problem

with these tranquilizers.

Well, it's a big fall for me.

I-I'm going to be doing press,
and I have a new fella,

so I just have to look good.

Well,
it's pretty straightforward.

I go along the natural line here

of the upper lid
above the eye...

Hmm.
...trimming as I go.

And then the lower lid, Tru,

I gotta cut out the fat
that created these bags,

which are filled with vodka
as far as I can tell.

Look, I've stopped.
I've cleaned up, Norman.
Honestly.

We gotta get the neck too.

Platysmaplasty is really
where it's gonna help,

because your neck
is in terrible shape.

I know.

You gotta take
better care of yourself.

Those peels we did,
that's all erased because of
your terrible health habit.

No, a new leaf. I'm telling you.

Norman, just make me look
the way I used to.

Okay.

I wanna match on the outside
the way I feel on the inside.

Okay, well, we'll try.
I wanna stun them all.
I need to.

Hey, babe, you've stunned them
all already with your excerpt,

which I loved.
Thank you, Norman.

So tell me, when is
the book coming out?
Are you close to done?

Well--
I wanna read the rest.

Well, I work every day.

You know, Norman, I went light
on them in Côte Basque.

They were offended. Really?

It's so much worse.
I was kind.

Please, when I think about
what they're putting me through,

this censoriousness as though
I were some lapdog meant to
heel...

...like one of Wallis Simpson's
fucking pugs.

Well, I loved it.

Uh, I can do the surgery
next month on the 10th.

It sounds good.

I'm worried about
the pain, of course.
Why?

Well, people think I'm strong,
but I can't bear physical pain.

-I really can't.
-You'll be fine.

What is all this now?

Well, Sunny von Bülow
recommended these ones,

but told me not to
mix them with these.

Yeah, Halcion
doesn't go well with anything,
let alone Vicodin.

What do you want?
Respiratory arrest?

-Let me see what else
you have in here.
-No.

Valium, Dilantin,
codeine, Tuinal.

Where did you get this one?

This isn't even legal
in this country, Truman.

I wish I married a nice
Jewish doctor like you.

Oh, shut up.

One who'll keep all
my pills in order for me

and dispense them properly.

Well, I'm taken.

Promise you'll protect me
from the pain.

Would I lie to you?

You think I wanna end up
in your book?

Oh.

Oh.

Okay.

Oh, Rick.

Yeah.

Well, you're going
sooner than I thought,

but you stayed longer
than I expected.

Do you need some money?

Tru, I told you.

Air conditioning repair
is very lucrative.

Look, I'm just gonna say it.

I can't be your boyfriend.

-I can't.
-No, I guess not.

No.

I miss my fiancée.

You're engaged?

Gina?

She works at the I. Magnin,
the Desert Fashion Plaza mall?

Where you got me this watch?

Do you want it back?
No, dear, I don't.

Keep the Rolex and think of me
as time goes by.

Part of me wants
to scream at you and say
you're a lying rotten user

and your tumbleweed
of a girlfriend

is department store trash,

and she'll scrape her teeth
on your cock every time
she puts it in her mouth.

But...
...for some dumb reason,

I can't quite figure out
how to be mad at you.

Take care of yourself, Tru.
Don't let the monsters get you.

You know, maybe you should
get a teddy bear.

Something to
hold on to at night.

Well, send me one
from I. Magnin.

Make it cute,
in a sailor's suit.

I will.

Answered Prayers,
chapter 20. "Our Time."

Being the last will
and testament of P.B. Jones,
my moment was brief.

In that time, my body was
lithe enough to attract men
and women as much as--

as often as they or I needed.

And friends too came easily,

because when you are
in your time,

you attract people
to your light.

You can laugh easily and
recover instantly from booze
and slights and bruises.

I had that with my friends.

Now I have only
one or two left.
Friends. Old together.

As I lay here on a hammock
in Tangier, alone as far
as the eye can see,

time zones distant
from anyone who knows me.

What I remember is mostly
the sun and how it felt
on skin.

That is what friendship--
the love of friends--
feels like.

Luck. Salt when you lick
someone's sun-dappled arm.

Light.

And that is what I miss,

because in this desert heat
I do not feel it now.