All language subtitles for Mallrats.1995.720p.BluRay.x264.YIFY

I told him, "Donald...

I have to attend.
It's my ball."

And then he said:

"The lodge
only throws their ball
once every decade.

Why can't you ever
attend my balls?"

And I said, "Jesus Christ,
Donald, that's what
I've been doing for 30 years."

You're such an idiot.

Gov. Dalton,
this is Jared Svenning...

the gentleman
to whom you are presenting
the honorarium.

Governor, it's a pleasure
to meet you.

Might I add,
you're absolutely stunning
this evening?

You can dispense
with the ass-munching.

You're getting your check.

Thank you. Thank you.

The grant, that is,
will go a long way...

towards funding
the new programming
that I'm working on for KREL.

That's the
public access station, right?

The one they run
the lottery numbers on?

Well, we air more
than just lottery numbers.

I mean, in fact...

we're going to broadcast
a live game show from
a local mall this Saturday.

How long is this thing
going to take?

Tonight I've got
Melrose at 9:00.

Well, there's dinner,
followed by
the presentation.

And then we adjourn
into the auditorium
for a stage presentation...

by the Drama
and History Clubs.

They put together
an impressive musical
about Paul Revere...

entitled
Light Your Own Lamps.

Is there a dance number?

Nothing better than
a couple of skimpily clad
undergraduates...

just hurling themselves
across the stage,
I always say.

Get me another highball.
Right away, Governor.

Will you stop?
Stop it! Cut it out!

Just don't eyeball everyone
like that. All you're doing
is creeping everyone out.

Sorry, Governor.

Sven, you know
these security types...

everyone a glory hound,
I always say.

They're all just waiting
to tackle
the next Sirhan Sirhan.

I mean, I ask you...

Can you imagine anyone
wanting to attack me,
for Christ's sake?

Freeze!

What are you doing?
You looking at naked guys
in the shower again?

Didn't anyone ever tell you
not to point guns at people?

Once. I shot him.

Nice sneakers.

I went to look for you
in your room...

and Ronnie told me
I could find you up here.

What gives?

I wanted to finish
that paper on supernovas...

and John Slas said that
I could use his telescope...

before he went home
for break.

What do you need his for?
You got your own.

No, I got the lenses, T.S.,
but I need Slas' shaft.

Oh.

You need Slas' shaft, huh?

You insatiable slut!

"We're all in the gutter,
but some of us
are looking at the stars."

Oscar Wilde.

I thought that you'd be
down there trying to secure
the best seat in the house.

This might be the first
and last time you ever see
your boyfriend on stage...

especially in a musical.

So I'd like you
to be down there
front row, up center.

I'm gonna watch you
from up here.

With that thing?
You'll never see me.

Are you kidding?
Do you have any idea
how powerful this thing is?

I'll be able to see
the flop sweat
form on your brow.

Yeah, but you won't be able
to hear me sing.

Bingo.

Strident.

I'm gonna have to
teach you a lesson about
being demure for your man.

In fact...

that's it.
I'm having sex with you
right here, right now.

What are you doing?

Let's go, come on.
Pull them down.

Would you get off me?
I've got work to do.

I don't mind.

I'll just let you finish
your star gazing.

I'll take you
from behind here.

It'll be great practice
for when we get older, and you
watch TV while we screw.

Will you get off me?

All right.

For now. But when
we get to Florida in...

about approximately 17 hours,
you owe me.

About that...

Yes?

Well, I can't go.

Excuse me?

My dad's asked me
to help him with his new show.

What, like
his assistant or...

As a contestant.

You mean that
Dating Game rip-off thing?

That is what
you're talking about here,
right?

That guy knows no shame.

What, so he forbid you
to go to Florida
when you said no, is that it?

I can't believe...

Brandi?

You didn't say no?

T.S., it's no big deal.
I mean, it's just TV.

Besides,
it is really important
for my father's career.

Otherwise,
he would never have asked me.

Brandi, the guy hates me,
for Christ's sake.

Don't you think
that might be a little part
of the motive here?

He'd love to see us break up.

He'd love for us
not to go on that vacation,
that's for sure.

What did you think,
for Christ's sake?

Jesus! You know,
for a science major...

you can be really
fucking stupid sometimes.

I was giving you
the benefit of the doubt, T.S.

I thought that you
might be able to handle this
like an adult...

and show my father
how wrong he is
about our relationship.

Well, I guess
I credited you with too much.

You are just as thoughtless
and possessive as he is.

You both see me as property.

In fact...

the two of you
have so much in common...

you should just go
date each other.

Brandi, wait!

Just leave me alone.
Please.

Oh, no. The gun's caught
in your hair.

Would you get it out?
I'm trying.

Mr. Svenning...

Jesus Christ!
Don't kill me!

Oh, no! No, no.
For God's sake!

He's with me.
He's with me.

Oh, God!
He's one of my people.
It's okay.

We'll be ready in five,
Mr. Svenning.

Go, it's okay.

No, your hair's caught
around the trigger here.
Stop moving.

Would you just get it off?
It hurts.

The presentation will begin
in about five minutes,
Governor.

Why not freshen up a bit?

What the hell is that
supposed to mean?

That I look like
a piece of shit or something?

Maybe we can jar it loose.
Here, come over here
to the right.

Here, lean over here.

Come over here, okay?
All right? Ready?

Sniper!

Oh, shit!

How many are there?

I spotted two,
a male and a female.

What kind of artillery?
Perps were using a shotgun.

Was the Governor hit?
Of course I'm hit,
you asshole.

You hit me like some
goddamn wrestler.

There's no blood.
She wasn't attacked.

Get your foot off my tit!
Oh, sorry, ma'am.

Mr. Svenning, I quit!

Hey, I think
they're trying
to signal us.

It's okay, we're not armed.

This is just a prop.
I'm in the musical.

It's just a blank.
It wasn't serious.

What did he say?
I think he said
they were Syrians.

Sweet Christ,
terrorists on our campus?

Why is he dressed like
a Revolutionary
War minuteman?

For irony! Your average
terrorist's a showman first,
killer second.

My God!
It's a member of
the History Club.

I blame the parents.
It's the parents at blame.

They are not
raising their children
properly these days.

Is Jared Svenning down there?

Hey.

That's you, isn't it?

No. Well, yes...

but, I mean,
how would a terrorist
know me?

Daddy? It's me, Brandi.

That explains it.

Governor, please.

I want to apologize
for this fiasco. My daughter
is a huge fan of your work.

Svenning.

Your check.

Oh, I don't know what to say,
but thank you.

You want money
for your pissant station.

Just try playing the lottery.

No!

You know
where they air those results.

Get me
to the goddamned hospital.

Now!

God damn,
I fractured my collarbone.

Mr. Svenning,
Mr. Svenning, look,
I want to apologize.

Thank you
for squaring everything
with the police.

I know we probably
worried you, but Brandi and I
are both okay. We...

If it wouldn't mean
implicating my daughter
in this somehow...

I would insist
that the authorities
lock you up...

for the rest of
your young life,
you goddamned little menace!

Sir, it was an accident,
I swear!

No, you're the accident,
you moron!

You have no idea
what you just cost me
here today.

I mean, you're like
all the other
spoiled jerks...

I've ever known
in my whole life!

Everything is handed to you
on a silver platter.

You people,
you just don't grasp
the precept...

of somebody
who has to work
for their breaks.

That's "concept."
What?

You said "precept,"
I think you meant to say...

"concept."
Listen to me,
you little prick, you.

You may have
my daughter snowed...

but it'll be
a cold day in hell before you
pull the wool over my eyes.

What you just did to me
here tonight...

I'm going to make it
my missión in life...

to do to you
on a regular basis.

Mmm!

Nobody fucks with
Jared Svenning's career...

and walks away clean.

I promise you that.

Hey man, I just want
to tell you that I really dug
what you did up there.

Anarchy rules, dude!

We're over, T.S.
Oh, come on!

I thought we weren't going
through this break-up,
make-up shit anymore.

No, we're not.
So you can just forget
about making up.

Listen to you.
Why don't you just admit it?
Admit what?

That this isn't about
just what happened
on the roof.

You're using that as an excuse
'cause you
don't have the guts...

to stand up to your father.
Maybe I don't.

Come on, Brandi.
What about Florida?

You have just humiliated me
in front of
the entire school...

the community, the nation,
for God's sakes.

You seriously damaged
my father's career...

you insult me with that
good-cop bad-cop routine...

and now you have the gall
to ask me if I still want to
go on vacation.

I was going to propose to you
in Florida.

I thought that
you'd screwed up in every way
possible tonight, T.S.

Guess I underestimated you.

Shit!

Sweet fucking Christ,
would you knock it off?

God!
What?

What time is it?
9:30.

Man, go back to sleep!

Thank Christ.

What the hell are you doing?
Finishing my game.

No. You promised me
breakfast.
Breakfast!

Breakfast, shmeckfast.
Look at the score,
for God's sake.

I'm only in the middle
of the second
and I'm winning 12 to 2.

Breakfasts come and go, Rene.

Now Hartford, the Whale?

They only beat Vancouver once,
maybe twice, in a lifetime.

You hit the bathroom already?

Don't worry. I didn't let
your mother see me.

Who's worried?
Are you kidding me?

I've never met a person
who lives in as much fear
of his mother as you do.

I do not.

So that's why
I have to sneak in here...

after everyone's
asleep at night and sneak out
undetected in the morning?

You want
I should tell my mother
what we do in here at night?

That you play videogames
and I fall asleep unfulfilled?

Go ahead. It beats
the sneaking-around shit.

What can I say?
She doesn't like you.

You've never even
introduced me
to her, Brodie.

She wouldn't like you.

You're retarded.
Everybody's mother
likes me.

Not mine.

Jesus Christ!
Are you back
in the bathroom again?

What do you do in there
all the time?

Figure it out.

No, I mean like before.
Like every morning
before you leave...

you're in there for like
a half an hour and all
I ever hear is water running.

And?

You're not in there
touching yourself, are you?

I was wrong about you.
You're crass and retarded.

What do you do in there?

You really want to know?

I asked, didn't I?
I'm playing the role
of the concerned guy.

I cry.

You cry?
I cry.

Any particular reason?

Hey.

I think about the people
that make decisions
that affect our lives.

The doctors
who make advancements
in curing diseases.

The engineer
that designs skyscrapers.

The guy that maps out
a plane's flight path.
The navigator.

I think about how those people
are out there every day...

making a difference,
leading big lives...

And how they refuse
to be intimidated...

by the tremendous odds
of failure they face.

And how they only
concern themselves with peers
and company that apply...

to their goals
and noble causes.

Jesus! I'd hate to tell you
what I think about
when I'm in the bathroom.

I think about all that
and I cry...

Because I have
nothing better to do
than fuck you.

You're dumping me?

What are you, crazy?

Is this because
I didn't introduce you
to my mother?

Holy shit!
If it isn't mon frère.

Last time I saw you,
you were on CNN taking shots
at public officials.

Mr. Quint. Mr. Quint.

Move!

Mr. Quint. Mr. Quint.

So you're looking
for sanctuary.

It's been like this
all morning.

Can you blame them
after the spectacle
you made of yourself?

What were you trying to do,
anyway? Lmpress Jodie Foster?

I wasn't gunning for
the Governor, Brodie. It was
a stupid misunderstanding.

Ah. Now you're crying
patsy...

thus demonstrating
all the key characteristics...

of a lone nut assassin.

Usual vault rules apply:
Touch not,
lest ye be touched.

You're such an
anal-retentive bastard.

I tried to teach you
how to handle comics
in the sixth grade, but no...

you wanted to play
Little League instead.

What's that?
Like it? I framed it
before you got here.

Oh, my God! Rene dumped you!

Hell hath no fury
like a woman scorned for Sega.

What's that mean?
You had to be there.
Just keep reading.

Wow! Look at this laundry list
of complaints.

You have no direction,
no college ambition,
no job prospects.

Yeah. It also says
I have no dick.

But you'll notice that follows
the financial question,
proving once more...

what women really look for.

What do you do for money,
anyway?

Blood bank, sperm bank,
currently considering
the eye bank.

Wow, she calls you callow
in here.
You say that like it's bad.

It means frightened
and weak-willed.
Really?

Shit. That was
the only part of the letter
I thought was complimentary.

Yeah, well, you're lucky.

Unlike you, I didn't even
get a letter filled with
obscure adjectives.

What are you telling me here?

I, too, now am in
the framing business.

Holy shit! Brandi dumped you.

Wait a second, aren't you two
supposed to go to Florida?

Should've left this morning.
It gets worse.

I was gonna propose to her.
Where?

On the Universal tour.
You're kidding! What part?

When Jaws
pops out of the water.

That's the most romantic thing
I've ever heard.

Too bad I'm not trying
to marry you.

Let me ask you something.
Did you ever fart
in front of her?

Why do you ask?

I never farted
in front of Rene,
not once, all right?

Then last week I let one slip.
Today she dumps me.

You think that
that's why Rene dumped you?

She's not
the shallow type, Brodie.

She was going down on me
at the time.

Shut up!
What can I say?
I was feeling very relaxed.

When I'm relaxed, I squirt.

If all she did was dump you,
you got off light.

I can't believe this shit.

Why are we sitting here
trying to figure out...

where we went wrong
with our significant others?

We just nailed it,
in your case.

No, there is something
out there...

that can help ease
our simultaneous double loss.

Ritual suicide?
No, you idiot.
The fucking mall!

I prefer ritual suicide.

Come on, man! It'll be great.
They got these new cookies
at the cookie stand.

You have to try them,
they're awesome.

You think
the promise of a cookie
is gonna lure me...

into doing something
I have zero interest in?

What am I, 5 years old?

Quint, don't be such a pussy,
all right? Just go.

All right, I'll tell you what.

We can stop off at Brandi's
if that'll make you
feel better.

You can talk to her,
maybe patch this thing up.

Mr. Quint, I'm Fred Bishop
with NBC.

The network would like to buy
the rights to your story...

to make a tasteful telepic.

Mr. Quint, Tom Drucker, CBS.

We'll pay more money
and we'll get Drew Barrymore
to play your girlfriend.

Hey, back off.

We can stop at Brandi's,
right?
Yeah.

Get dressed.

Jazzercise?
Why does your mother have
an aerobics tape in her car?

We lose them?

Not a news van in sight.

Damn, anyone ever tell you
you drive like the bandit?

Oh, shit! So much
for seeing Brandi.

Just ignore them and go in.

You kidding?
That's Hard Edition.
That's tabloid TV.

They see me here
and it's "Suburban
Bonnie and Clyde reunite...

to slay father
in his own home."

Man, I don't know
what you're crying about.

I'd cut one of my nuts in half
to be on TV.

That'd get you on this show.

All right, tell you what.
You go round the back...

I'll run interference
with the fourth estate.

You got my back?
Your back is got.

All right.

So what's this all about?

I'm Tori Metzger
from Hard Edition.

We're hoping
to get an interview
with Brandi Svenning.

Yeah, that's the girl
who took a shot
at the Governor.

The same. Do you know her?

Oh, I should say so.
I've lived next door to her
for 19 years.

Even dated her once.

Shit, the stories
I could tell you!
Really?

Satanic rituals?
All the time.

I remember coming over
for Christmas one year...

and they were celebrating
a black mass.

Her father had sex with a goat
right there in the den.

And nobody ever reported this
to the authorities?

Everyone around here
is paralyzed by fear.

Makes for
shitty block parties.

Could we possibly
go onto your property...

and get you on tape
with their backyard
behind you?

You want to put me on TV?

Shit, I'll take you
to their property...

if you're gonna put me
on TV. Come on!

I was thinking of calling you.

Has your dad
calmed down any?

Well, until this morning.

He read an article today
comparing him to the father
of James Earl Ray.

Can't you explain it to him?
You know it was an accident.

I know it wasn't planned.

But "accident"
is too light a term...

to describe
what happened, T.S.

Whatever. Can't we
just forget about it?

Look, we already
missed Florida.

We could be spending
this time alone together.

Away from our friends,
school, studies, everything.

Don't you want to
spend some time alone
with me?

Just to talk.

Perhaps.

Perhaps.

Or perhaps more than talk.

Oh.

Absolutely. I'm always one
for active non-talking.

Why don't you go get a pizza
with me tonight?

I've got the game show
tonight.

This is Svenning's bedroom.

Now, I must warn you.

The images that you capture,
whatever is going on
in that room...

may be ungodly
and horrific.

Take a look.

I can't believe that
you're still going through
with this.

Come on, T.S.,
it's no big deal.

I mean, it's not like
I'm going to sleep with them.

You might as well.

I thought you had
more backbone than this.

Why do you have to
do everything
that he tells you to do?

There you go again.

Just as you're making headway,
you louse it up with this...

possessive machismo
which brings everything
endearing about you...

to a screaming halt, T.S.

What are you doing out here?
Who are you people?

What are you doing
on my property?
Get out of here!

How do you answer
to your neighbor's charges...

that you practice
satanic rituals?

Satanic what?

Daddy, what are you doing
outside in a towel?

You did this, didn't you?

You trashed my fiscal year...

and now,
you and your crony here
egg these media vultures...

into thinking they can...

Daddy, T.S. Had nothing
to do with...

Mr. Svenning, look.
Whatever happened,
I assure you, I didn't...

You get your ass
off my property now! Go!

And you people,
you get the hell out of here
before I call the cops!

Me, too?
Now!

I don't know
what he's so mad about.

They'll digitally
erase his organ
when they air the footage.

Goddamn it!
What is my problem?

I was this close
to reconciliation
and I blew up at her.

And here I'm going
to the fucking mall,
of all places.

You know what,
as a matter of fact, I'm not.
I'm going home.

Look, the safest place
for you to be right now
is at the mall.

No press'll think
to look for you here.
Hide in plain sight.

Just shut up!

You know what,
this is all your fault
this happened anyway.

You and your 15 minutes
of fame.
Get a grip,
for God's sake.

Did you ever stop
to think...

that maybe the relationship
wasn't on firm ground
to begin with?

You know, it couldn't
have been that strong
if she breaks up with you...

over something stupid
like getting her shot at,
numbskull.

Hey.

I love the smell of commerce
in the morning!

You're really
making that last.
Waste not, want not.

What, you want to
say something?
About a million things...

but I can't express myself
monosyllabically enough

for you to understand
them all.

Asshole!
Prick!

Fuck you!
What the hell
was that all about?

He's a jerk from
Fashionable Male, this upscale
wannabe shop on the 2nd floor.

He's the manager.
The guy's always
giving me shit.

I've no idea why.
I thought everybody loved you
at this mall.

"F" him! Where do you
want to go first?
Back to Brandi's.

Look, Brandi is the past,
my friend.
She's behind you now.

You face forward,
or you face the possibility
of shock and damage.

You should learn
to heed your own advice.

Where the hell
did that come from?
What's going on here?

It looks like
a stage is being erected.

What is this monstrosity?
Maybe it's for
the Easter Bunny pictures.

Impossible!
The Easter Bunny Court is down
at the other end of the mall.

It's been up since two days
after Christmas.
I want answers.

Ask one of the workers.

No, there's a soul
who might know what's up.

Willam.

Willam!
Poopie trim.

Brodie, man,
what's going on?

What, do you work here now?
No, man.
Just hanging with T.S.

T.S., I saw you on TV.
I think it was on Baywatch.

CNN, Willam.

Oh yeah,
didn't you kill the Pope
or something?

I got a musket tangled
in my girlfriend's hair,
for Christ's sake.

What are you doing, Willam?
Looking for
the hidden picture.

If you stare
at these things long enough,
you're supposed to see...

some kind of hidden
three-dimensional picture.

Oh, yeah, look.
It's a sailboat.
You saw it, too? Dammit!

What?
I've been staring
at this thing...

for a week now from opening
till closing and I can't see
a goddamned thing!

You gotta relax your eyes.
Everyone sees this thing
except me.

Today's my day.
I brought a lunch
and a soda...

and I'm not gonna leave
until I see this sailboat
everyone keeps talking about.

So, Willam...

would you happen to know
what this stage business
is all about?

It's not a stage!

I'm gonna see it
if I have to go blind trying.

No man,
this stage over here.

That thing?
I think some game show
in the mall today.

I think it's going to
be on TV. It's called
Truth or Date or something.

Oh, my God!
That's Brandi's father's
game show.

What is it?
It's this cheesy Dating Game
rip-off thing.

Supposed to be
for college kids.

Just trying to capture
the '90s youth market with
a staple of '70s televisión.

Why can't they bring back
or remake good shows...

like BJ and the Bear?

Now there's a concept
I can't get enough of:
A man and his monkey.

Would you guys shut up?

You're breaking
my concentration.
Sorry, Willam.

Now I have to start
all over again.

Good luck with that thing.
Remember,
relax your eyes.

Wow, a sailboat!
Shut up!

Could this week
get any worse?

Now she's going to be
auctioned off on live TV
from a mall.

Not "a" mall, all right?
"The" mall.
Show some respect.

It doesn't have to
go down like that,
if we trash the thing.

There's a unique way
of getting back
in her good graces...

by ruining
her father's show.

You're a clever one.
I can get someone
to do it for us.

We'll be blame-free
and Brandi won't be able
to do the show.

Who is this imaginary
hatchet man?
Hatchet men.

Knock it off!

Kitty, kitty, kitty!

Look at these two.
$10 says they're trying
to figure out...

which one they're gonna
bury up to its neck and
run over with a lawn mower.

Kitty, kitty, kitty!
Hey, Jay!

Brodie, man!
Nootchy nootchies!

And, holy shit, what do
we have here? Mr. America's
Most Wanted himself.

I had a musket tangled
in my girlfriend's hair.

Ex-girlfriend.
What's he doing?

Shithead here
watched Empire and Jedi
last week...

and ever since,
he's been trying to do
the Jedi mind trick.

Crazy fuck thinks
he'll levitate shit
with his thoughts.

Knock it off!

The Force is strong
with this one.
Dude, don't encourage him.

So I was telling T.S. Here
we gotta find
Jay and Silent Bob.

If there's anyone
that can help us out...

it's the two guys
that have even less to do
than us.

What is this shit?
Everyone's
looking for us today.

We're ducking Tricia 'cause
she wants to talk to Obi-Wan
about her video set-up.

Why him?
Silent Bob's
an electrical genius.

He won the science fair
in eighth grade by
turning his mom's vibrator...

into a CD player,
using chicken wire and shit.

Motherfucker's like MacGyver.
No, motherfucker's
better than MacGyver!

Knock it off!

And it's that kind of smarts
we need, right, mopey?

Leave me out of this.

We need you to embark
on a little sabotage missión
on behalf of T.S.'s love life.

You know about this
game show thing
they've got going on here?

We need you guys
to somehow ensure that
it doesn't happen.

Is that it?
We were gonna do that anyway.

Really? Why?
What else are we gonna do?

Silent Bob just stole
the schematic of the stage
from some foolish carpenter...

and found a weakness,
just like
the fucking Death Star.

He figures if you pull
this crossbeam out...

fucking bickety-bam,
the whole stage
comes crashing down.

We were thinking
about something simple...

but if you want to
destroy the stage,
we're all for that.

Only problem is LaFours.
Who's LaFours?

You don't know who LaFours is?
They don't know
who LaFours is!

He's only the most feared
security guard
in the business, man.

460 collars, all convicted.
I hear
he's even got two kills.

Holy shit! I never thought
I'd see the day...

when two such highly reputable
mischief-makers
as yourselves...

douse their drawers
at the sight
of a mall security guard.

Shit, bitch! We're gonna
bust out that stage
like a high-school kegger.

We're just gonna
outwit LaFours, X-Men style.

Should I call you Logan,
Weapon X?

No, Wolverine!
Snicky, snicky, snoine.

What he's doing is imitating
Wolverine's berserker attack
with his Adamantium claws.

I never would have guessed.
All right, guys.
You have your missión...

go forth and wreak havoc.
Bye, baby kitties.

Damn, Silent Bob,
show some heart.

Pss, pss, pss.

That's better.
We're on the job.

Thanks.

I have to admit I'm shocked
you didn't try
to dissuade them.

I would if I
actually thought for a second
they could pull it off.

Ye of little faith,
want a cookie?

What's he doing?

If you stare at this póster
for a few seconds,
a hidden picture appears.

Can we do it? Please?

Go ahead, but hurry,
the Easter Bunny's waiting.

Wow, it's a schooner!

You dumb bastard!
It's not a schooner,
it's a sailboat.

A schooner is a sailboat,
stupidhead.

You know what?
There is no Easter Bunny!

Over there is just a guy
in a suit!

But they're engaged.
It doesn't matter,
it can't happen.

Why not?
It's bound to come up.

It's impossible.
Lois could never have
Superman's baby.

Do you think
her fallopian tubes
can handle his sperm?

I guarantee he blows a load
like a shotgun,
right through her back.

What about her womb?

Do you think
it's strong enough
to carry his child?

Sure. Why not?

He's an alien,
for Christ's sake!

His Kryptonian
biological makeup is enhanced
by Earth's yellow sun.

If Lois gets a tan,
the kid could kick
right through her stomach.

Only someone like Wonder Woman
has a strong enough uterus
to carry his kid.

The only way
he could bang regular chicks
is with a Kryptonite condom.

But that would kill him.

How did I go from the verge
of hot Floridian sex
with Brandi...

to Man of Steel
coital debates with you
in the food court?

Cookie stand is not part
of the food court.
Of course it is.

The food court is downstairs,
the cookie stand is upstairs.

It's not like we're talking
quantum physics here.

The cookie stand counts
as an eatery, the eatery's
a part of the food court.

Bullshit.

Eateries that operate
within the designated square
downstairs...

qualify as food court.

Anything outside
of said designated square...

is considered
an autonomous unit
for mid-mall snacking.

Now if you're gonna
wax intellectual
about the subject...

Holy shit!

Wait here.
Where are you going?

Cherchez la femme.

He said it was
just a guy in a suit.

Don't listen to that man,
he just said it to be mean.

That would look terrible
on you.

Didn't I dump your ass
this morning?

Look, I know you've had
some time to think about
the mistake you've made...

and I just want
to let you know
you don't have to apologize.

I'm sure you were just PMSing
or something.

Brodie, what kills me
about you is your inability
to function...

on the same plane of existence
as the rest of us.

Piss off.

Okay. I see you want to
continue with this charade
of ending our unión.

Fine, I'll play along.

But if we're divorced,
we're gonna have to divide
our mutual possessions.

What the hell
are you talking about?

You have
my Punisher War Journal #6...

my copy of Fletch
and the remote control
to my TV.

I know it's gonna be hard
to give this stuff up because
of its sentimental attachment.

Sentimental attachment?

If I have any
of that crap...

it's because
you brought it over
to my house and left it there.

Okay, then let's talk about
coming up with a schedule
for visitation rights.

For what?
For the mall.

I figure you can have
the odd days, I'll take
the even days and weekends.

When there's
any special function like
a sidewalk sale, boat show...

Brodie!

I have always taken you
with a grain of salt.

On your birthday,
when you asked me
to do a striptease...

to the theme
from Mighty Mouse,
I said okay.

When we were
at that hotel, prom night...

and you asked me
to sleep underneath the bed...

in case your mother burst in,
I did it.

And even when we were
at my grandmother's funeral...

when you told
most of my relatives...

that you could see her nipples
through her burial dress,
I let it slide.

If you think that
I'm gonna suffer any more
of your shit with a smile...

now that we're broken up,
you're in for some serious
fucking disappointment.

It wasn't Mighty Mouse.
It was
Josie and the Pussycats.

What?

Sorry.

Phase one:

First, you take a run
at LaFours with a sock
full of quarters.

I'd do it,
but I pulled my back...

out humping your mom
last night. Nudge.

You clock him on his headpiece
and knock his ass out cold.

That's when phase two
kicks in.

I attack the structure
Wolvie-berserk style and
knock out the fucking pin...

and bickety-bam,
the motherfucker's rubble.
Hence, no game show.

What? Do you know that kid
or something?

I hope his pants get caught
and a bloodbath ensues.

What is with you today?

Don't get me wrong.
I don't wish the kid harm...

but his mother should suffer
that horrific ordeal...

so she'll learn
how to manage her child.

That's sort of a harsh lesson,
don't you think?

There's not a year goes by
that I don't read about
an escalator accident...

involving some bastard kid
that could've been
easily avoided...

had some parent...

I don't care which one,
but some parent,
conditioned him...

to fear and respect
that escalator!

Wow! Look who it is.

Jerk!

Little Tricia Jones!
What's a pretty girl
like you...

doing sitting alone
in the middle of this
monument to consumerism?

Updating my calendar
and waiting for Jay
and Silent Bob.

And I suppose
you're here with no agenda,
as per usual.

On the contrary,
I'm here for comics.

T.S. Quint, Tricia Jones.
They call her Trish the Dish.

Nobody calls me that.

Our little Tricia here
is only 15 but somehow
she's a senior.

How'd you manage that?

Don't listen to him.
I studied my ass off.
Yeah, right.

So what do you say?
You wanna nail T.S. Or what?

Jesus, Brodie!

Calm down.
Tricia's compiling data
for this book she's writing...

about the sex drive of men
ages 14 to 30.

If I remember correctly...

it's titled Bore-gasm:
A Study of the '90s Male's
Sexual Prowess.

Ready to get sick?
Tell him about the advance
you got.

Pendant Publishing gave me
$20,000 based on a treatment
and a sample chapter.

You're kidding.
It's true.

She'll be the youngest author
to tackle the subject.

So when are they going
to publish this filthy
little tome of yours?

After my 18th birthday,
to avoid the moral
and legal entanglements.

So Tricia
sleeps with a bunch of guys
as research.

If that's not enough,
get this:

She videotapes all of them.
What?

I get everybody's consent
before we do it.
Most guys get off on it.

Men are easily amused.

What are you writing
in the calendar?

I was coding
last night's research.

She means sex.
I know what she meant.

What kind of codes?
Here, look.

The smiley face
is for when I go down
on the guy.

The smiley face with lashes
is for when the guy
goes down on me.

The circle is for
when we have sex.

The circle with the "X" in it
is for when I have an orgasm.

The little house
is when we do it inside
and the grass is for outside.

That kid is back
on the escalator again!

Wow, that's
a pretty elaborate log
you got there.

Wow, look at all
those smiley faces
without eyelashes.

That shows you
how courteous men are.

Out of 50 entries, only two
have smiley faces with lashes.

You slept with 50 guys?

To fill out my research, yes.

That's more guys
than you've slept with, dude.

Oh, my God.
That kid is sitting
on the escalator again!

How old
was last night's subject,
if you don't mind me asking?

Twenty-five. It was the guy
who runs that store
Fashionable Male.

Holy shit!
You slept with that asshole?
Why?

I needed a 25-year-old.

And he has
quite a distaste for you,
I might add.

He mentioned me during sex?
Afterwards.

He says he wants to
kick your ass. I'd steer
clear of him, if I were you.

Tell me you videotaped him
saying that.
No.

I shut the camera off
after the sex.

You should have heard
the stuff he wanted to do.

I'm having a hard time
with this.

Do your parents
know about this?
Of course.

That's remarkable.
That's criminal. That kid...

That kid is back
on the escalator again!

Leave it alone.
What?

So, I heard you were going
to propose to Brandi Svenning
in some theme park.

When are men going to learn
that women want romance?

Not Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.
Be fair, all right?

Everyone wants
Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.
We gotta go.

Remember my offer.

I'm young, virile, sensitive
to a woman's needs...

Somehow I doubt it, Sega-boy.

Good luck with
the comic-book store.

"Sega-boy." God,
Rene's got a big mouth!

What does that mean,
"Good luck
with the comic-book store"?

How does that junior
Masters and Johnson
know about my proposal?

It's not like
she's in an exclusive club
or anything.

What are you talking about?

Sean Hartle's giving everyone
the inside scoop.

What? What's he saying?

How her father made her
do the game show so you
couldn't take her to Florida.

Now, what the hell
is this shit?

One hour? For what?

What the hell is this?
What's going on here?

What, you live
in a fucking cave?
The man is in there.

How'd Sean find this out?

He was interning at KREL
and he said
he heard Svenning...

barking at Brandi
over the phone about it.

Apparently he had a feeling
you were gonna
pop the question.

Who the fuck is the man?

What, you waited till now
to tell me this?

If you're gonna bother me
about this
for the rest of the day...

I'll go home!
You dragged me here!

You needed this.
Who the fuck is in there?

One side, Red.

What the hell's going on here?
I was warned about you.

Take it easy
before I have you removed...
Warned?

What the fuck
are you talking about?
Tell him, Steve.

Fuck you, fan-boy!

Would you two
testosterone-seething,
He-Man comic book fans...

finish up with this tough-guy
back-and-forth?

I got some questions
I need answered.
Who's in there?

You got to ask me nicely.
Fuck this.

Jesus Christ!

Get the hell off of him.
Come on.

You fuckers think
just 'cause a guy reads comics
he can't start some shit?

I'll fucking take
all of you on!

Somebody get a medic!

There's a little boy
caught in the escalator!

Come back here
and arrest this goon!

You're fucking next, man.
Jesus, Brodie!

I'm not going anywhere
until I find out
why I can't get my comics.

All right.

Excuse me.
Don't hit me.

Why is there a line?
Stan Lee is signing comics.

Stan Lee?

Okay, Lunchbox,
let's try this again.

We tie you to the roof,
you jump and sail
like a Spitfire...

passing right over
the arch-nemesis LaFours.

You then swing up to the stage
and knock out the pin.

And when that's gone,
the stage is trashed
and we go smoke a bowl.

You got it?
Now, get your fat ass
out there!

And, dude,
don't forget your helmet.
Snoogins.

Fly, fat-ass, fly!

What the fuck?

You fucker!

Security?
Is it alive?

Yeah.
This is Popular Girl.

We just had something crash
through the wall.

Stan Lee!
How does something
as big as the creator...

of the most important titles
in comics history...

coming to my mall get by me?
I must be slipping
in my old age.

The name amongst names.

There's a million questions
I'd love to ask him.

Her father!

I knew this game show thing
was just a beard
for an attempt to break us up.

Why can't he just
leave us alone and let us
follow through with our plans?

What kind of man
are you, anyway?

I'm talking comics
and you bring up
chicks and romance?

While we're on the subject,
why the hell do you want
to get married now, anyway?

You're still in college.
I was just gonna propose.

The wedding wouldn't be
till after we graduate.

Waste of time,
if you ask me.

My grandmother always said,
"Why buy the cow...

when you get the sex
for free?"

She did?
All the time.

Of course,
she became a lesbian
on her 60th birthday...

but that's beside the point.

Where the hell
are these two going
in such a hurry?

Is he gone?
Halfway to Buy Me Toys
by now.

Damn, that bastard's faster
than Walt Flanagan's dog.

What's with all the running?

What the hell happened to him?

The human brown-eye here
is a walking calamity.

We'll have to take a pass
on the stage-trashing
business...

otherwise he's liable
to kill himself.

Sorry, bro.
No hard feelings.

Isn't that Rene?

She's probably looking for me.
I better go talk to her.

Keep that.

I don't know.
She's with somebody.

She's practically blowing him.

Wait a minute, isn't that...
The asshole
from Fashionable Male!

Son of a bitch!
My God! You think
that they're...

Could be.
It'll explain why
he hates me so much.

And there's only one way
to find out.

Can you run interference
with the lug?

What are you gonna do?
Get some answers.

Shit!

You work
at the Fashionable Male,
don't you?

Yeah? So?

That's a great store
you got there.

Thanks. Listen, I'm trying
to spend my lunch hour
with my lady friend here.

So why don't you beat it?

That's your girlfriend?
Right there?

If you don't stop
gawking at me and get the hell
out of here...

I'll kick your ass.

Haven't you ever
heard the phrase,
"The customer's always right"?

Let me tell you
a little secret:

The customer's
always an asshole!

Jesus Christ!
What the hell
gives with the cover boy?

None of your damn business.
He'd kick your ass
if he knew about this.

Are you insane?
The guy looks like
a date rapist!

Is that my jacket?
Start the elevator.

Not until you tell me
what the situation is with you
and the Sperminator out there.

How long has this
been going on?

Since I finally mustered
the good sense
to send you packing.

He's a much more
suitable companion than you,
any day.

Are you nuts?

The guy's pure testosterone!
He's a walking hard-on,
looking for a hole!

I need testosterone
after babysitting you and
your comic book collection.

I forgot what real men
were like.

I can't believe
you have the nerve to come
to my mall and pick up guys!

No, Shannon
did the picking up.

He's already taken me to lunch
at the Cheese Haus...

purchased tickets
for the opera night
and took me to stores I like!

I took you shopping
all the time!

You took me
where you went shopping, jerk!

Do you think I care...

what rat-hole store
in that shit-pit
you call the dirt mall...

has got the latest
Godzilla bootlegs?

You call eating pizza
in the same dive pizzeria
every night eating out?

Do I give a shit...

when two major comic labels
are crossing over
characters...

and selling two editions
of the book
in varied-ink chromium covers?

I'm a girl, damn it!

I want to do girly things
like fix someone's hair
and get romantic phone calls.

I call you all the time!

"Rene, my mom's asleep.
Come over."
You call that romantic?

When was the last time
you pulled out my chair
or told me I was beautiful?

This guy does all this
in the span of a day!

This guy already introduced me
to his mother.

Really?

He was up and at work
by 9:00 this morning.

Unlike my ex-boyfriend,
who would sleep until 1:00...

'cause he played Sega
and watched videos
all night long!

Which, by the way,
has enormous effect
on your libido.

Now you attack my libido?

There's no libido to attack.
No libido to attack?

You're sure you saw her
get on, right?
Maybe she was getting off.

Ow.

Sorry.
It's all right.

You know something?
You look familiar to me.

Couldn't be.
I'm never at the mall much.

No, it's not from the mall.

I know. You're the guy
from the news that kidnapped
the President's daughter...

and threw her off the roof.

I got a musket tangled
in my girlfriend's hair,
for Christ's sake.

There, that was romantic,
right?

Passionate, yeah.

No, Brodie.
That was too little, too late.

Too little?

You said it was a good size.

The effort, you retard.
The effort was too little,
too late.

But now that you mention it,
when a girl says
it's a good size...

it's a nice way of saying
that it's small.

Hey!

I'm gonna kill
that son of a bitch.
No, forget about him.

He just wanted to give me
something that he forgot
to give me a long time ago.

He's harmless now. Okay?

Fine. I gotta get back
to the store. Let's go.

Right there
in the elevator?

I don't know
what came over me.
She challenged my libido.

I felt obligated
to defend myself
against her accusations.

It's not like
you still wanted her
or anything like that.

Not in the least.
I'm over her.

Holy shit!
You really love that girl.
Yeah, right.

No, I never noticed it before,
but she really
fuels your engine.

You have this
new glow about you.

I don't have a glow.

You do. You're glowing.

If I have a glow
it's because just I got laid.

I'd look the same if I banged
anyone in that elevator,
present company excluded.

Deny it all you want.
I think you're too proud
to admit you want her back.

I suddenly want something
very bad to happen to you.

What is your problem?
I don't understand.

Gwen! I'm sorry.
You fucker!

See! That's what you get
for fucking with me.

Hey, Gwen,
he didn't really mean
to hit you.

He's got a funny way
of showing it, by elbowing me
in my frigging tit!

Why the hell are you glowing?
I'm not glowing.

Brandi dumped him.

Would you stop saying that?

I know. I heard.
You heard? How?

She told me. I ran into her
a few minutes ago.

Really? Where?
By the stage.

Do you want me to rub it?

Work with me, people,
would you please?
No, I don't want this here.

I want it toward the front.
The rug keeps popping up.

If I put the podium there,
it'll stay down.

Move it!

Mr. Svenning!
Give me the podium!

You put the podium down
over here...

Like this.

You stamp the carpet down
with your feet.
You speak English?

Like this.

Mr. Svenning!
Let me help you up.

Get off! Move!
Here, let me help you.

All right,
where's Brandi?
Let go of me!

Where's Brandi?

You're fired.
You get the hell out of here.

Get off my set!

Where is she?

You are out of her life.

Now, you stay
out of her business and mine,
understand me?

Come on, people.
Are we working here?

Get the backdrop ready.
Are those lights ready to go?

Okay, Mr. Svenning.

Go on the other side...

and put the podium
over the bad spot
in the carpet, okay?

The hole? Please. Go. Now.

So, you made her dump me...

and now you're going to
auction her off...

in an effort to better
further your own career?

Not that
it's any of your concern...

but Brandi agreed
to be on Truth or Date.

After that shit you pulled
last night, I think she's even
looking forward to it.

It'll give her a chance
to find herself a decent guy.

Somebody with a brain.

You admit it?
You are behind
our break-up.

Admit it?

Hell, I'm as proud of it
as I am
of this game show here.

Listen to me.
It's over between you two.

The sooner you get that,
the better off
we're all gonna be.

Understand me? You don't.

Guard, come here.
Get this guy off of my set.

If he gives you any shit,
you have my permissión
to castrate him.

You can't do this!

I just did.

Get me LaFours.
Right away, sir.

Well, go on!

I wonder
if my mother ever wore
a pair like this.

How about these?

Very sexy.
That sounded convincing.

I'm preoccupied.

T.S., she told you.
She's just doing it
as a favor to her father.

Regardless.

It's not like
she'll fuck the guy
on public access.

She might as well.
You're overreacting again.

That's why
your relationships fail.
It's certainly why ours did.

You got bent out of shape
the same way over that
costume party in high school.

You fucked Rick Derris
on a pool table!

With everyone watching,
no less.
It was a costume party, T.S.

No one could tell it was me.

Besides, who else but you
remembers shit like that?

I would've been a sexy chick.

Do you remember
that costume party?

Might that have been the one
where you banged Rick Derris
on the pool table?

Nobody remembers
shit like that?

How is it that you recall
the most trivial events?

I'll never forget it.
How many chances do you get to
see Smokey fuck the Bandit?

Didn't I look just like
Burt Reynolds?

Except for the moustache.

You know, they have
a whole room
you're supposed to do that in?

Some pervert wanted to
see me naked so badly today...

he busted in on me twice
while I was trying on stuff.

This saves him the effort.

How much longer are we
gonna be in this
chick store, anyway?

I'm starting to get
a mean hard-on.

Brodie, Tell me about
the Rene break-up.

I threw her away
like a parking ticket.

Don't front, Brodie.
I talked to Rene's cousin
this morning.

It was vice-versa.
They certainly aren't
acting broken up.

Go ahead.
Ask him about the elevator.

Tell me about the elevator.
It goes up and down.

Rene seems so coarse, anyway.
What was it like to date her?

Ever slept with somebody?
Uh, yeah.

I mean,
really slept with somebody.

Beside them,
not just fuck them
on a gaming table.

We slept together one time,
remember, in high school?

That ski trip?
That was you?

Yes, Brodie,
I've slept beside many people.
All right.

You know how when someone lays
with their back to you...

and you lay behind them
really close and you throw
one arm over them?

It's called spooning.

But you gotta put
the other arm somewhere.

You can either lay on it
or just shove it
in between your bodies.

The only other option is
to stretch it above your head.

But sometimes my arm pops out
of the socket when
I'm sleeping like that.

So, I was constantly searching
for someplace
to keep my arm...

while still laying
close to her.

And?

What do you mean, "And"?
That's like a metaphor for
our whole relationship.

Jackass.

I'm all out. I'll meet you
at the food court.

I know exactly how he feels.
Excuse me.

Fill this with Coke, no ice.

Want a sip of my soda?

Smartass ex-boyfriend.

You know who I am?

A deeply resentful
retail manager?

Rene's with me now. Okay?
You got that?

So don't be sniffing
around her anymore like
you tried to do today.

Shit!

There goes the lung.

Listen to me.

I got two things to tell you.
One: I don't like you.

I see you every week
in this mall.

I don't like
shiftless layabouts.

You're one of these
fucking loser mallrat kids.

You don't come here
to work or shop,
you hang out all day.

Act like you
fucking live here.

I have no respect
for people with
no shopping agenda.

Is this what's known as
motivated salesmanship?

Rene told me to
leave you alone,
but she's fucking clueless.

The newly single often feel
strangely protective of
the ex-boyfriend.

If this is her idea
of protective,
hate to have her mad at me.

Now, you see, Bruce...

I like to pick up giris
on the rebound from
a disappointing relationship.

They're more vulnerable,
they're in much more
need of solace...

and they're fairly
open to suggestion.

And I use that suggestion
to fuck them someplace
very uncomfortable.

What,
like the back of a Volkswagen?

No,
like somewhere giris dread.

All right. Now...

is it because
it's a challenge?
Is it because it's taboo?

Or is it because
I like to, you know...

have them differently than
they've ever been had before?

This sounds like a discussión
much more suited...

to an extended professional
counseling sessión.

I'll go get a therapist
for you.

Now, evidently, the only one
that's gonna need
a doctor here...

is yourself, my friend.

And my suggestion to you is...

forget you ever dated Rene.

Until I get what
I'm looking for from
this latest dalliance...

I better not find you within
10 city blocks of her...

otherwise I will be forced
to do you some
very serious damage.

All right?
We clear on that?

Rene who?

There you go.
Not bad, you're learning.

We're all right, right?

Bruce.

I'm glad we had
this little chat.

I'll remember it
when I'm fucking
your girlfriend.

And my store's having
a sale next weekend.

You should come by.
I'll cut you a nice deal
on a suit.

Did we ever get along?
Once or twice.

How come we went out
as long as we did?
You had cable.

So, are you gonna stay
for the show?

Absolutely not.
As soon as he gets back here,
I'm gone.

T.S. Quint. Where's your
sense of chivalry?

Oh, my God! Is that Brodie?

You're fucking kidding?
The Easter Bunny did this?

All I said was
the Easter Bunny...

at the Menlo Park mall
was more convincing.

He just jumped the railing
and knocked me down.

He's fucking dead!
Let it go.
He's under a lot of pressure.

What the hell happened to him?

The guy in the Easter Bunny
suit kicked his ass.

Fuck all that shit.
Come on, Silent Bob.
What really happened?

The proprietor of
Fashionable Male beat
a rain check into my stomach.

Shannon Hamilton?
You know that guy?

I went out with him
after we dated.

He tried to screw me somewhere
very uncomfortable once.

What,
like the back of a Volkswagen?
Sounds like his M.O.

Can you get up?
Am I still glowing?

You're barely breathing.
Was Rene involved
in any of this?

This was an independent act
of aggressión.

He told me that his intentions
were to penetrate
my ex-girlfriend...

in the most notorious
of body cavities.
Sounds just like him.

You better tell Rene.
Let him do whatever
the hell he wants.

If she's not smart enough
to see him for what he is,
she deserves the discomfort.

I, on the other hand, have had
just about all the discomfort
I can stand for a day.

Shit, I'm late. I gotta go.

You're just gonna leave
with him in this condition?

I gotta split.
You gonna be okay?

Couple of pins in the hip,
I'll be good as new.

That's my boy.
Bye, guys. Be good.

Women, always leaving you when
you've just had the crap
kicked out of you.

You look like
you're gonna live to me.
You stay here.

I gotta hit the bathroom.

Please, don't say "hit!"

All right, honey.

Don't forget to look for
your Easter eggs on Sunday.

Bye-bye, Easter Bunny.

All right, who's next?
It's hot in this goddamn suit!

Hey, guys. Wait in line
like everybody else.

What the hell is this?
This is for Brodie.

He's here.

What?
Him and Brodie.

Don't sweat it, though.
He's leaving.

He seems really broken up
over this whole thing.

Maybe because we're broken up
for good this time.

I remember when I dumped T.S.
I was all right with it till
he started dating you.

A little jealousy residue?
I thought so at first.

Then I realized
it was more than that.

When I saw how
he was with you...

how well you two
complemented each other...

it finally hit me that
T.S. Is a great catch.

Gwen, you were always
cheating on him.
Capricious youth?

Doesn't mean
I wasn't regretful about it.

Jesus, Gwen.
The last thing I need
at this point...

is a lecture on my love life.

All I'm saying is that
the really good guys are
few and far between.

In fact,
I haven't met one since T.S.

Even if I did meet one,
I guarantee I'd use him as
the basis for my comparison.

You can have him
if you want him.

Believe me,
I might consider trying...

if he weren't so
hung up on you.

Well, I gotta get home.

Have a great show.
Okay. Bye.

Chocolate-covered pretzel?

This is Roddy,
Mr. Svenning's assistant.

Mr. Svenning would like to
have a word with you.

Where? These are melting.
Copy that. By the stage.

Tell him I'll be there
in a minute.

What do you think?
I don't trust it.

Maybe he's calmed down
a little bit.
We'll talk reasonably.

Reasonably, shmeasonably.
You should go over there
and give him shit.

You kidding?
I'm trying to
marry his daughter.

All right, so you can't
scream at him,
but after all he's done...

you should still
kind of stick it to him.
How do you propose I do that?

You stink-palm him.
Stink-palm?

Take your hand
and you stick it
in your ass like this.

You've been walking all day
and you're also nervous...

and no doubt
you're sweaty as hell.

You should see yourself
right now.

A man with his hand
in his pants.

I probably look like
my old man.

Now you shake hands
with the guy.

"Hey, Mr. Svenning.
How've you been?"
What's the point?

Know how long it takes
for that smell to come off?

Scrub all you like,
it'll stick around
for at least two days.

How does he explain it
to his colleagues and family?

They'll think he doesn't know
how to wipe his ass properly.

Meanwhile, you yourself
are left with a hand
that smells like shit?

Small price to pay
for the smiting of
one's enemies.

I think I'll pass.
Do me a favor.

Stay here while
I go talk to him.

I assure you,
tonight's program will
go off without a hitch.

I hope so, Jared,
for your sake.

You picked a dangerous mall
to host a game show in.

I hear the Easter Bunny
was accosted this morning.

If there's anything even
remotely resembling...

the trouble you had
at the Governor's Ball...

you're gonna be
hosting the Lotto drawing...

on public access
the rest of your career.

Gentlemen, please trust me.

I have just taken
the necessary precautions...

to insure everything
will go smoothly.

Nothing to worry about.
Sound test!

I tell you what. Why don't...

Why don't I meet you back here
around show time?

Somebody said
you wanted to see me?
Yes, I did.

You know what?
I'm feeling
a little less frazzled...

and I thought maybe
we might chat.

Chat?
Yes, chat.

All right, look.

I realize that the other night
didn't go very well for you.

And I realize I'm to bear
most of the blame for that.

Yes, you do.

But hey, it was a grant
that would have enabled...

the station and myself
to make the leap...

into syndication-viable
programming...

leaving me, of course,
with no choice...

but to peddle this show
to the network execs
and beg for a job.

No big deal. It's okay.

And for that I'm sorry.

But to penalize Brandi and I,
our relationship, for that...

Come on,
isn't there some other way?

I'm afraid not.

I mean, I can't exactly ask
Brandi to marry me if...

Marry you?

Yeah, I was gonna ask her
to marry me
when we got to Florida.

You know...

I've always felt bad about
the fact that I had to
raise Brandi on my own.

Her mother, she left us
when Brandi was only 3.

Well, her mother was
a little immature.

She was only 15 at the time
she had her.

Of course I was only 14.
But that's another story.

Anyway, ever since she left
it was just the two of us.

But I've prided myself
on the fact...

that I've instilled in her
some strong values.

And while I know
she's generally a good girl...

I also know that,
being young once myself...

it's hard to sometimes
ignore certain...

urges.

Tingles.

I'm not sure
I follow you, sir.

Quint...

I accept the fact that
you no doubt fucked
my daughter.

The two of you...

have been dating long enough
for you to have slimed
your way into her panties...

and I'm sure you did just that
at least once or twice...

in my own house,
probably while I was at home.

The idea of that
used to keep me
awake at nights.

But now you give me something
even worse to think about.

The notion of you...

as an albatross around
my daughter's neck
for the rest of her life...

is too much.

Brandi has a bright future.

She is an extremely
intelligent and capable girl.

And I'm sure that one day
she'll be even more
successful than me.

Maybe.

But you...

You, on the other hand,
have absolutely no ambition.

And no chance of making it
in the real worid.

My daughter is
too good for you.

You will never,
ever be with her.

If there isn't
anything else...

Hey, fellas!

Well, well, well,
if it isn't my neighbor.

You been watching
my family conduct any more of
our satanic rituals lately?

Please, sir, accept my apology
for my juvenile behavior.

Damn! Would you feel that
iron-grip handshake!

You know, with an imagination
like yours...

you belong on TV.

That's your forte, sir.
And you do it so well.

So, what's going on here?

T.S. And I were just
discussing a few of
his lesser points.

Of which he does have many.

Hey! Look at that ring.
What is that?

That is my junior-college
class ring.
Cum laude, '69.

I also hope to come loud
one day, preferably in a 69.

Boy,
look at the shine on that.

Do you polish it daily?

You know, Bruce,
once you eventually
get a job...

and start working
for a living...

you're gonna realize
that there's not enough time
in the day...

for such luxuries
as ring polishing.

Is that so?

Say, would you like
a chocolate-covered pretzel?

They're a little melty, but,
damn, are they exquisite.

If I remember correctly,
you're a big pretzel fan.

Dark chocolate?
Yeah!

Come on!
No, please, no!

They're awesome. Here you go.

Thank you.

That's good. Very nice.

Being a man who believes in...

"one good turn
deserves another"...

I have something...

to offer...

the both of you.

Really, what's that?

What is this?
These are called handcuffs.

This is what is known
as a precautionary measure.

Easy, boy, easy.

I couldn't risk having you
screw up my career...

or make another play
for Brandi.

Once I realized you two
were in the mall...

I decided to set up
this little ambush...

to remove...

you and your sidekick here
from the premises,
permanently.

Why am I his sidekick?
How do you know
he's not my sidekick?

Well, that's something
you're gonna have to
figure out for yourself...

in jail.

Take them away!

Yes!

Oh, joyous.

So good.

You're nothing but a lot of
talk and a badge.

Rene! Get Jay and Silent Bob!
Please!

Hurry!
Did somebody call your name?

I have to go to the bathroom.
Wait here, okay?

Hey, anything for you, babe.
It's your day.

Thanks.

I'll tell you, what you need
is a fatty-boombatty blunt.

Then I guarantee you see
a sailboat...

an ocean, and maybe even some
of them big-titted mermaids
doing lesbian shit.

Look at me, look at me,
you sloppy bitch!

Dude,
you're a mad chick magnet!

T.S., Brodie, security guards.

Under arrest, they need help!
Go!

Wow. A sailboat.

Brenda?
Dick!

This is illegal!
You can't arrest us
for nothing!

All right.

I believe when Mr. LaFours
turns us over to the police...

the bag of contraband
that he's "found"
on our persons...

will give them
more than enough reason to
keep us locked up.

At least for the duration of
this evening's show.
Isn't that right, Mr. LaFours?

Come, son of Jor-EI!
Kneel before Zod!

Snootchy bootchies!

Asshole.

Vulcan nerve pinch?
That was close.

What about that
stink-palm back there?
He even licked his hand.

We gotta disappear, man.
They'll be looking for us.

Thank you, man.
We owe you one.
You want to hide?

I know just the place.
Whatever. Let's just go.

Don't I even get to
wash my hand first?

What the shit
are we gonna do?

Come on, we're fucked!
They're right behind us.
Come on!

Yeah! Bad-ass! Yeah!

Where do you get those
wonderful toys?

This is where
we're hiding out?

This is the dirt mall!

Cops never come in here.
Neither does any
self-respecting consumer.

I never could figure out
what you saw in this place.

Good buys. Great people.
Earthy aromas.

Hey, Walt!
Brodie!

They know me here.
I wouldn't be
too proud of that.

Listen to the sound of
defeat in your voice.

Might it have to do
with the fact that
I've been defeated?

Man, you're giving up? You?

You used to be a stand-up
kind of guy.
What happened to that guy?

The guy who punched
Amanda Gross' mother after
she called him "low-class."

That wasn't me,
that was you.
Oh, yeah.

It wasn't her mother,
it was her grandmother.

No wonder the bitch
went down so fast.

You should have
boards in them. All right?
Bloody savage.

That is one of your more
admirably deplorable traits.

You, unlike me,
would beat up
somebody's grandmother...

or an entire senior citizens'
community if you believed
in the principle.

But only if they
were really old.

Maybe I was deluded.

Maybe you were right
this morning...

when you said if something
stupid could change
how she feels...

she's not into it
in the first place.

You'd listen to me?
To something I said?

Jesus! Haven't I made it clear
during the tenure of
our friendship...

that I don't know shit?

I mean, half the time
I'm just talking
out of my ass.

Or sticking my hand in it.

Sometimes, but on occasión
you've been known to let
a nugget of truth slip out.

This morning might have been
one of those occasions.

You know what you need?

Some sage-like advice.

You've given me enough
for one day, thanks.

Not from me, from lvannah.
Who's lvannah?

I can't even find the words.
Is that ingenuity or what?

What's palm-reading have to do
with being topless?

It makes the news
easier to take.

She could tell me
I'll die in 10 minutes...

so long as she
told me topless.

Your maleness
amazes me sometimes.
What can I say? I love tits.

What kind of people
patronize this service?
People like us.

Wait a minute,
you're not suggesting...

Don't be such
a damn fundamentalist.

I've already reached
my lowest.
This is where I draw the line.

You used to like tits, too.

I love tits as much
as the next guy, but why pay
some old hag good money...

for supernatural chicanery
coupled with sagging,
wrinkled, weathered boobs?

You know, Quint...

you're a homosexual.

Man, this place is
something out of Octopussy.

You've come for
a glimpse at your future?

Amongst other things.

Talents like those I possess
are not to be taken lightly.

If you have heart condition,
suffer from nervous nausea...

or have a family history
of stress-induced breakdown...

Empire Entertainment
recommends you
do not partake...

in the fortune-telling
activities contained within.

You guys still in?

We're both healthy
and strapping young men.

You give me $58.60.

What?

You expect me
to pay for this?
I'm broke. I'll pay you back.

I knew it.
I can't believe you.
I didn't even want to do this.

You'll thank me later.

Thank you.

All right, gentlemen,
free your mind.

I'd like to free something.

Focus.
That's what I was thinking.

She said "focus."
Whatever.

I sense a grave disturbance
between you both.

A difficulty in affecting
a resolution...

for a problem.

Something hard.

I'm convinced.
She's got the gift.
Try to contain yourself.

Miss, I appreciate the effort
and I'm sure you're
very good at...

whatever it is you do...

but my shallow friend isn't
interested in his future,
so you can cut the theatrics.

What a relief. I do so much
better when I don't have to
say things in character.

You don't have to
say anything at all.

You paid,
I should tell you something.

In order to do that...

I have to work completely...

unfettered.

Oh, yes.

I can definitely sense
the problem. Here.

Girl trouble.

Apparently, you're both on
the outs with your
respective steadies.

That's amazing.
That's disgusting!

You both feel the pain...

of loss.

But only one of you
makes it vocal.

The other one
suffers silently.

My God, you're right.
We gotta go.

How can this be resolved?

I would say, yes...

combine your efforts.

You both have
very strong auras...

and two strong auras
produce positive results.

I feel nauseous.

So, in working together...
You'll beat the odds.

The odds. Yes.

That's what I see.

Let me tell you what I see...
That's great!

I don't buy her power.
All right, when's my birthday?

Between the first
and the last...

of October.

Did you hear that?
Very haunting. Let's go.

Why are you stuck here
in this dirt mall and not in
an upscale commercial setting?

You could be raking in
the dough with your
kind of accuracy.

Believe it or not,
some people still frown on
topless fortune-telling.

Unfortunately,
it's the only way that
I'm effective.

Really?
It's the third nipple
that does it.

You have a third nipple?

What are you talking about?

It's clear as day!
Look at it, for God's sake.

You can stare at it.
I don't mind.

Understanding is reached...

only after confrontation.

Of course!

Thank you so much.
I can't tell you
how informative you've been.

Thank you very much.

And don't ever
lose that nipple.
I won't.

Do you have...
Any other extra body parts?

No.
Just curious.

You could double-check me,
if you like.

Really?
Come on!

Works every time.

Cherry.

You're gonna what?

I'll get on her dad's show.
Are you kidding?

Last time he had
dope planted on us.
What will he do this time?

He can't touch us
once it starts.
It's a live feed.

He can't risk losing face
in front of the network execs.

It can't happen.
I'll make it happen.

"Understanding is reached
only after confrontation."

That's what lvannah said.
Brandi will respond
to confrontation.

Hey, man.
Didn't I see you on CNN?

What the hell's
your problem, anyway?

You're supposed to be
the impetuous one, not me.
Why are you fighting me?

I'm being rational!

You're scared you may
want to follow my lead
and win Rene back!

Rene who?
Whatever. Just do me a favor.

Meet me by the stage
once the show starts.

I'll need your help.
Where are you going?

Shopping.
What the hell
am I supposed to do?

Hey, man! It wasn't me!

Dude,
this looks like your mom.

I've been looking
all over for you two.
We're hiding.

In a bookstore?

Last place anyone'd look
for me and this tubby bitch.

I need your help.
What?

You two up for getting stoned?
Look who you're asking.

You looking at that
couple inside?

Actually, I was just looking
at this little pink number
over here.

That's kind of nice.
They look happy, don't they?

What, the bras?
No, the couple.
They look happy.

I guess,
as far as couples go.

You know, it reminds me
of an issue of
Spider-Man I did.

When Peter Parker
and Gwen Stacy went
lingerie shopping.

Of course,
the Green Goblin showed up...

and he pumpkin-bombed
the hell out of the place.

But aside from that,
it's pretty much
the same thing.

Oh, my God!

Holy shit!

Aren't you...
Stan Lee. Hi.

What's up, boys?
You guys on this show?
That's the rumor.

Man, between hoping to win,
the crowd out there...

and being on TV,
I'd be scared as hell
if I were you two.

Yeah?
Sure, man.
What if you fuck up?

Your friends
and family watching.

I'd be piss scared
I'd get a boner
or fucking fart or something.

He's got a point, man.
This is live.
Anything could happen.

Shut the fuck up, man.
You're making me nervous.

There's only one thing
that could take off that edge.

Make you feel relaxed as hell.

Make you forget
how many people are
staring at you here and on TV.

And what's that?

Snootchy-bootchy nootchies!

The Fantastic Four.
Reed Richards.
Can his whole body stretch?

I mean every part,
you know, like his...
I know what you mean.

We never really tackled
stuff like that in
the old days.

What with the comic-book code
and all.

I can't believe
I'm standing here
talking to you!

You're responsible
for the greats.
Let's do the list. Spider-Man?

Guilty.
The Incredible Hulk?

Afraid so.
This is so cool.

The X-Men?
Now that you mention it.

Shit, man. You are a god!

Hey, look at that couple.

Boy, they sure seem to
be in love, huh?

What's with that?
That's the second time...

you've commented on
couples in love.

Well, I like
that sort of thing.

Tell me, do you
have a girlfriend, Brodie?

Had one. We just broke up.

The Thing? Is his dork made of
orange rock like the rest
of his body?

It's a superhero secret.

Tell me, Brodie.
Why did you
and your girlfriend break up?

She was a pain in the ass.
She wanted me to be this
typical boyfriend guy.

She said I was too into
my own worid of comics
and all.

I can relate.

There was a time
when it was all about
comics for me.

I had a girl,
probably the same as yours.

She always complained that
I spent too much time
with my own comics.

And eventually we broke up.
See, what did she know?

Here you are now,
a legend in the field.

You had a slew of women
since her, right?

Lots of women.

Jagger and me,
we had a running contest
to see who had the most.

Matter of fact,
last time I looked,
I was way ahead.

Damn, that's hot!
But I never forgot that girl.

Did you ever get back
together with her?

One day I found out
she got married.

I had blown it.
I had missed my window.

No way.

What'd you do?

I went on with my life.

I created some
special new superheroes.

They were characters that
reflected my own heartbreak
and my own regrets.

How so?

Doctor Doom wears body armor
to conceal his
own mangled form.

Right?
Yeah.

That was me
beneath the armor.

The Hulk.

A normal guy one minute,
a rage of emotions the next.

Just like me when I thought
about what I'd given up.

So you created each character
as a way to deal with
your one big regret.

Yeah, the girl that got away.
Look, do yourself a favor,
Brodie.

Don't wait.

Because all the money,
all the women...

even all the comic books
in the worid...

they can't substitute for
that one person.

I don't know.
All the comics in the worid?
Trust me, true believer.

Well, good talking to you.
Keep up all the good work.

You keep reading 'em,
I'll keep writing 'em.

Hey, Stan!
Yeah?

She really meant
that much to you?

Brodie, I'd give it all up,
all of it...

for just one more day
with her.

Take care.

Stan!
Hi!

I think he bought it.
What kind of story
did you give him?

It was the Vulture's
soliloquy, you know...

from the Spider-Man
anniversary issue.

"Love Be a Vulture Tonight."
Yeah.

I can't thank you enough,
Mr. Lee.
Forget it.

You know, I think you ought to
get him some help.

He seems to be really hung up
on superheroes' sex organs.

But he'll outgrow it.

Mr. Lee?
Yeah.

Excelsior!
You got that right.

See you.

Cool.

I think I felt it move.

Just kidding.

Just the two I'm looking for.
I need help.
With what?

Let me borrow
the Shannon Hamilton tape.
Why?

It's important!
The future of my relationship
depends on it.

It's at my house.
Take T.S.'s station wagon,
parked in 2D.

I don't even have a license.
Just go!

You still got that
stage schematic?

I need you to wire
something together for me.

Jesus.
What's with him?

I don't know.
I'm suddenly not
feeling too well.

But everything is fine.

We're about to start.

You are in for something
really special tonight,
gentlemen.

I have lined up...

Excuse me.
Jesus.

Sorry.

I have lined up some
really bright kids here.

This promises to be
a lot of fun.

I'm sure you're
gonna love it.

Shouldn't you be
in bed or something?

No. I wouldn't miss this
for the worid.

Make sure everybody's ready
and let's start.

How much did you smoke?

All it took was
a fat chronic blunt.
These guys were lightweights.

How much do I owe you?
My treat.

As long as you promise,
next time you pop
your old lady...

you make her call you "Jay."
Snootchy bootchies.

Let's hope there is
a next time.

All right, I'm ready.

You're never gonna believe
who I just met.

What the hell happened
to these two?
Power of the Dark Side.

Wait, there's only two.

There's supposed to be three.
Where's the third guy?

I never saw a third guy.
Who's this asshole?

What the hell happened
to those guys?

They got lightheaded.
You got that right.

They gonna cancel the show?
What do you care?

I'm supposed to be on it.
I'm Gil Hicks.
Suitor Number Three.

We're taking their place.
I'm T.S. Quint.
This is Brodie Bruce.

Didn't I see you on the news?
Dude. Don't give him any shit,
all right?

Something's going on here.
Where's Mr. Svenning?

Mr. Svenning has come down
with a sudden case
of diphtheria.

What happened to those two?

They got sick.
We volunteer to
take their place.

Isn't this guy from
Monmouth State?

He and that broad tried to
kill the Governor.

Yes, it is.
All right, Quint.

I don't know how you
got back in,
but I'm alerting Mr. Svenning.

We'll postpone the start
until we figure this all out.

You called down the thunder,
now you've got it! Security!

Hey, Roddy!
What?

Jesus Christ,
you knocked him out.
Now hit him!

Somebody call security?
What happened to those two?

They got stoned
and knocked him out.
He needs medical attention.

That's not what happened.

Could you have him removed?
The show's about to start.

Whatever.

Look, dude.
No more shit, all right?

Just go out and woo like
you're supposed to
and nobody gets hurt.

When Tricia shows up
with the videotape...

you get it to Silent Bob,
understand?

I'm on it. Wit a sec,
where is that tubby bitch?

Good evening and welcome
to Truth or Date.

One match made here
ignites the fires of romance.

Hi, I'm Bob Summers,
your host...

and tonight we'll watch
as one of our
three lucky suitors...

woos our beautiful,
eligible suitor-ette.

Ladies and gentlemen,
get ready for romance
in the making...

as we introduce the suitors!

Our first suitor goes to
Marymount College
where he majors in Economics.

Say hi to Doug Paging.

Do it, Doug!

Our second suitor hails
from Canisius College
in Buffalo...

where he majors in
Communications.

Say hi to Rob Feature.

Our final suitor
goes to Rutgers...

where he majors
in Fine Arts
and Greek mythology.

A nice welcome for Gil Hicks.

Pay attention, dick.

And now, ladies and gentlemen,
I'd like to introduce
our lovely suitor-ette.

From Monmouth State,
where she majors in Astronomy
and Earth Sciences...

a big welcome
for the lovely
Brandi Svenning.

All right, everybody knows
how the game is played.

Our lovely suitor-ette will
ask a series of questions
of our suitors...

and make her decisión based
on their answers.

Anything goes!

Brandi, are you ready?

Absolutely, Bob.

Then you may fire when ready.

Suitor Number One.

If you were a car,
what kind of car would you be?

The kind you'd never dump
your boyfriend in.

Suitor Number Two.
Can't you call me
the Second Suitor?

"Suitor Number Two"
sounds like a bathroom code,
you know?

Now, the Second Suitor...

sounds like
a figure of mystery.

Like I belong on
the grassy knoll.

Second Suitor.

If we were making whoopee...
What's whoopee?

If we were...

If we were being intimate...
What, like fucking?

Yeah.

If we were, you know,
what kind of noises
would you make?

No, I think that's
kind of personal.

I don't think I should
answer that.

Suitor Number Three.

What would our first date
be like?

First I'd take you shopping
to the stores you'd
want to shop in.

And then we'd do
a little lunch, probably at
the Cheese Haus...

followed by some golfing.

Then at night,
we'd take in an opera,
probably Die Fledermaus.

Then I'd follow it all up
with a drive to
a secluded beach...

where I'd pop on
the radio...

and then we could slow dance
till the sun came up.

That was the biggest
load of crap I've ever heard!

I mean, look at you,
you're the kind of guy
that would beg for sex.

I should know,
we can smell our own.

Suitor Number One.

If we fell in love,
how would you propose to me?

When Jaws
popped out of the water.
Excuse me?

I'll propose to you right now.

I propose you stop letting
your father run your life...

and be true to yourself
and not give up on someone
you know has value.

Take off your socks
when you make whoopee...

or whatever that word is.
He hates it when you
leave them on.

What?
Hypothetically speaking.

Suitor Number One,
you sound familiar.

Like your conscience, maybe?
Look, lady.
You don't know him, all right?

Now make with the questions.

Is your kiss like
a soft breeze...

a firm handshake,
or a jackhammer?

What's the funny guy
doing with his hands?

I don't want to know.

What the fuck is
going on up there?

Never mind.
You go tell LaFours to
call the police.

I want the fucking Department
down here now to
arrest those guys.

Now. Go.

Definitely a jackhammer.

I'm in there with
some pressure,
and when I'm done...

you're not the same as before.
You're changed.

Where do you come up
with this shit?

That is the cheesiest response
to an honest question
I've ever heard.

I saw you kiss
and it wasn't anything
like that.

Suitor Number Two, you have to
wait until you're addressed
before you respond.

Richard Dawson, go back to
your podium until it's time to
play the Feud, all right?

Who did you see me kiss?
Some dude backstage.

I don't know who he was,
but he seemed unimpressed.

I didn't kiss
any guy backstage,
I swear. I'm not gay.

Hey, Suitor-ette,
this guy's a homophobe.

You heard how repulsed
he sounded.

Is this the kind of guy
you want to spend
a vacation with?

This hate monger?
I don't hate gay people!

So you love them?
Yes!

I mean, no!
Textbook closet case.
Self-loather.

Can't be comfortable
with his own sexuality.

Brodie said to
give this to you.

Are you watching this shit,
man? It's fucked up!

I don't want to be here
when that tape...

does what I think
it's going to do.

Why the hell not, man?
This shit is dope.

Holy fuck. He'll kill him.

Who'll kill who?

LaFours, man. Silent Bob,
he's my fucking board, man.

What am I going to fucking do?
Point him out.

Miss Suitor-ette, how about
you answer a question for me?

I don't think that...
How strong are
your convictions?

Would you be interested in
partaking in some
psycho-behavioral research?

What are you talking about?

How easily do you quit?
Say you wind up
with one of us.

Hopefully not Rush Limbaugh,
over here.

I'm not like Rush Limbaugh!

Why not, because he's fat?
You got something against
fat people, too?

Snootchy bootchies!

Are you ready?

If I have a conviction,
I stick to it.

Were you ever in love?

Yes, as a matter of fact.
Really?

What happened to
your boyfriend?

We broke up.
Why?

It just didn't work out.
I mean, were you unhappy?

Sometimes.
Why?

I don't know.
The usual baggage.

He lacked a sense of romance.

He almost ruined
my father's career.

He got me implicated
in an attempted murder.

That was an accident.

T.S.?

Hey,
what about the rest of us?

Why don't you ask me
a question?

Suitor Number Two.

Hey, what about me?
Gil, just shut the fuck up!

Second Suitor...

would you ever make
whoopee in public?

I already did once today.

But my cousin Walter
Jerked off in public once.
True story.

He was on a plane
to New Mexico...

when all of a sudden
the hydraulics went.

The plane started
spinning around,
going out of control.

He decides it's all over,
whips it out...

and starts beating it
right there.

All the passengers take
a cue from him...

they whip it out
and start beating like mad.

So all the passengers are
beating off...

plummeting to their
certain doom...

when all of a sudden...

the hydraulics kick back in
and the plane rights itself.

It lands safely...

and everyone puts
their pieces, or whatever,
away and deboard.

Nobody mentions the phenomenon
to anyone else.

Did he come or what?

Jesus Christ, Gil!

There are just some things
you do not mention in public.

Second Suitor...

if you were
a comic-book character,
what character would you be?

Wow, that's a great question.

A tough one, though.
What does one gauge
his response on?

Physical prowess?
Keen detection skills?

The ability to banter well
with super villains?

How's your
comic-book collection, Brodie?

It's going good.
But, I mean...

Comics!
What are you talking about?

I don't collect comics.
Comics are for kids!

I knew it.

Suitor Number One...

you just don't know
when to quit, do you?
No.

No, but you sure do.
I thought you were in love.

I was.

But you complicated my life.
How so?

Well, you placed me
in such a damned...

uncomfortable position
with my father...

Twice even.
What was I supposed to do?

Show a little backbone.

I was ready to show
a little backbone.

And then you had to show up
with Bumbler the Boy Wonder
over there...

and screw things up further,
proving...

that you never took
the situation seriously.

Boy Wonder?
I'm all man, lady!

I've never done anything
but show interest in you.

Our whole goddamn romantic
career I doted on you.

The minute things got dicey,
you cracked.

There we were, mere hours
from spending
an entire week together...

away from our family, school.
She throws in the towel
because her daddy says so.

He got us shot at
by the Federal authorities.

He brought his troublemaker
friend over to my house...

where he proceeded to allow
news cameras...

to take naked videos
of my father.

Then he had the audacity
to inform me...

that on this vacation
that we were
supposed to take...

that he was going to
propose to me...

without even discussing it
with me first.

We've been talking about
getting married
since high school.

He could have approached
my father, man to man...

and made his intentions clear.

He could have apologized
for all the problems
that he caused.

But what does he do instead?
He just goes on with his life.

I mean here he is.
He's hanging out at a mall.

You put yourself on
an auction block
for God's sake...

in front of
a live studio audience.

Do I get a chance to field
any more questions?

No!

Look, I think I should say
something here.

I know both of you
pretty well. Suitor-ette...

Suitor Number One has
done nothing
but pine over you all day...

trying to figure out a way
to win you back.

When this public opportunity
to literally do that arose...

he pulled his shit together,
risked life and limb...

and faced the odds to
get up here and give it
his best shot.

I'm tired of this whole thing!
You're both retarded
for each other!

Forget about the shit
that happened and do what
you're supposed to!

I think the audience
would agree with me there.

Ask her,
you silly bastard!

Miss Suitor-ette...

Suitor Number One loves you...

has always loved you,
and will always love you.

He's only got one question
that he'd like to ask.

Will you marry me?

Yes.

Snootchy bootchies,
Brodie-nootchies!

Are we set or what?
Good to go.

Hey, did you see
the fruzz out there?
No.

For a minute there,
I thought that
we were in trouble.

A sailboat.

I think it's safe to say,
we've made our match.

These two lucky people
will soon be
winging their way...

to beautiful, sunny Florida
for a week of theme parks,
beaches...

and a lot more
from the look of it!

I guess that about
wraps it up for...

Not just yet, Pat Sajak.

All right?

You! All right.

I believe you have something
that belongs to me.

Yeah? What's that?

Not you, asshole! The girl.

You have my heart.

What can I say?

I love the retard.

Wait a minute.
I thought tonight we were
supposed to, you know...

Hamilton!

Let's try to wrap this up,
all right?
I promised her breakfast.

All right, that's it.

You're dead, mallrat.
I'm going to fuck you up
beyond repair!

Sailboat. Sailboat.
Goddamn sailboat.

What in Christ's name
took you guys so long?

Get your asses up there
and arrest those guys.

The one with the girl
and the one with
the microphone.

For what?

Trespassing, public lewdness,
FCC violation.

Food poisoning.

Ladies and gentlemen,
this tall drink of water
headed my way...

is a pillar of
the shopping community...

who informed me earlier today
of a nefarious plan of his...

to screw my girlfriend
in a very uncomfortable place.

What?
Like the back of a Volkswagen?

And as he comes up here to...

Holy shit!

Without further ado,
I'd like to present you all...

with an accurate portrayal of
the proprietor of
Fashionable Male.

Now, Silent Bob!

I said now, Silent Bob!

When, Lord?

When the hell do I get to see
the goddamn sailboat?

Now, now, now!

Who's your favorite New Kid?

Call me Joey.

Oh, yeah. Don't make me
get loose.
I think that's it.

Yeah. Call me Donnie.
Come on. Oh, girl.

Yeah, please don't go.

No wonder why she walks
all fucked up.

That girl's only 15.

15? I thought she was 36.

Hey, come on, guys.
Tell me you wouldn't have
popped her?

Where you're going...

they screw people
in a very uncomfortable place.

Really?
Yeah.

You can't strike a prisoner
in police custody.

Come on, just once?

All right, but make it fast.

Would you have
gone on vacation
with the winner?

What do you think?

I don't know,
I think you would have.

But I would have
sent you a postcard.

What the hell is
wrong with me?

If the tape was out
of your reach,
how the hell did you get it?

The Jedi mind trick!

Holy shit!
Motherfucking Yoda and shit!

Adventure? Excitement?

A Jedi craves not
these things.

Holy! You spoke.

There was never anything good
to say before.

Did you see that shit?
Do you call that romance?

I call that illegal.

So.

So what?

I was just wondering,
if maybe you're not
busy tomorrow night...

Yeah?

Would you like to
have dinner at my house
and meet my mother?

I can't guarantee
she'll like you, but...

Hey, want a cookie?
It's on me.

It was just a warm-up.
Please, come on?

The show would always
go smoother and be less racy.

The show was a piece of shit.
Unoriginal, uninspired,
you know.

The only thing that saved it
was this guy here.

I'm Bentley Garrison,
with the network.

Me and Mason thought
you were hysterical.

Hilarious. You've got
great presence, kid.

Have you ever considered
hosting your own talk show?

Him?

Excuse me, sir.
Are you the producer
of this program?

Of course I am,
you stupid shit.

And I want those
two guys arrested.

Sir, you are under arrest.
What?

What for?

For broadcasting lewd
or indecent images in
a public forum...

and violation of
about 19 FCC regulations.

Jesus Christ!

And for vomiting on my shoes.