All language subtitles for Bickford.Shmecklers.Cool.Ideas.2006.1080p.BDRemux.Rutracker_Subtítulos02.ENG

[POSED TO DEATH PLAYING]

♪ I feel a warm resistance ♪

♪ Beneath the outer layer ♪

That's too goddamn elegant
not to be true.

Oh, yeah,
that's a full load.

That is a full load.

Wow.

Next!

No, no, no. I can do one more.

Dude, can you, like, OD on pot?

I guess we're about to find out.

Oh, my God.

How can I even think?

[SCARLET BEGONIAS PLAYING]

♪ As I was walking
'Round Grosvenor Square ♪

♪ Not a chill to the winter
But a nip to the air ♪

Wanna dance?

Yes!

With me?

Dude, denied!

♪ It could be an illusion
But I might as well try ♪

♪ Might as well try... ♪

Hello, Bickford. It's Dad.

I'm still trying to reach you.

It's been a couple
of weeks already.

I hope no news is good news,
but call, okay?

I don't want to have
to send another search party.

Busted robbing a fridge.

How embarrassing.

Attractive, uh...

- Toga.
- Thank you, it's very me.

So when they say "Toga Party,"

it means you have to actually
wear a toga to the party.

Duh! What did you think it was?

I don't know, a state of mind,
like, "Come prepared to Toga."

To Toga, or not to Toga.

Shakespeare, right?
That's a good imitation.

I'm going to steal this H2O.

So are you having fun at the...

you know, party?

Oh, yeah, mad fun. You?

Not yet.

I've just been on my own so far,

banging my head against
a brick wall metaphorically.

So then your head must
metaphorically hurt.

Some days, yes.

But Zeus had a headache,
and out popped Athena, right?

Goddess of wisdom.

Oh, my God.

Space-out.

I... I used to know mythology.

I totally loved that class.

What...

Oh, paranoia.

Paranoia.

Whoa...

All right.

Huh, banzai.

♪ You can't hurry love ♪

♪ You can't hurry love ♪

♪ You can't hurry love ♪

You shall not pass.

Yow!

You shall not pass!

You shall not pass!

Fucking righteous!

♪ Have you got A light for me? ♪

♪ If so, can you get me
Out of this place? ♪

Fuck this noise.

What?

Fuck this noise.

Fuck what?

"This noise,"
it's a fairly common saying.

♪ Elevation far below you ♪

Hey, look at that guy!

Oh, come on. Jump, dude!

Yeah, go!

Isn't that the whack-job
that lives in the basement?

Jesus, yeah.

Hey, uh, Bickford!

You want to hang with us man?
Away from the ledge there?

No can do, pal.

I'm not in conversational mode.

I thought I was, but fuck it.

What's he saying?

Uh, what you
talking about, Bick?

The problem.

I thought I could forget
about it for a while

and mingle, toga,
whatever, but no.

No dice.

I'm lobe-locked.

Bro, what's up with the term paper,
all right?

You're making us all look bad.

It's not for class.

The problem is just a cool idea.

What... What is it?
What's your cool idea?

A unified theory of everything.

It's not a big deal.

Holy God, wow!

Damn!

Proof that we don't exist, one:

Cosmologically.

Black holes contain
only matter without mass,

Anything containing mass
in a black hole is antimatter.

So if we're living in an
unimaginably giant black hole,

We're antimatter.

And antimatter
negates existence.

I'm definitely matter, Einstein.

Check out the gut.

All right...

Proof two: Sub-atomically,
99.999% of you...

- Is empty space.
- No, no, I heard this it's like...

When you compare, the size of a nucleus
of an atom to the size of an actual atom,

It's like comparing the size of a
golf ball to the size of the Earth.

Exactly, exactly, so how you can
assert your existence with basic physics?

Proves that you're overwhelmingly
composed of a preponderance of empty space.

But thinking,
I mean the fact that I can think...

How can you think
if you don't exist? You know I think...

Therefore, I am.
That works for me, man.

Even Descartes believed
that he was incorrect.

At the end of his life he re-wrote his
flawed theory removing Therefore...

from the equation. You
know what changed his mind?

Uh, did he hit the monster bong?

No, Descartes did not hit
the monster bong.

Better, the invention of
metaphysics blew his mind.

The idea that everybody

experiences life solely, uniquely,
impenetrably, from their own point of view.

And no matter how hard anyone tries,
they can never see completely,

from another persons point of view.

No offense, bro,

but all these ideas
are just paradoxes.

I've had deeper thoughts
watching Oprah.

Not that I do.

All right well that's because
everything I've said is oversimplified...

All right, this...

existence issue is only a fraction
of the problem I've been wrestling.

The equation is made up of
fractions that have to be described in

four dimensional space-time to
even make them even comprehensible.

How else would you describe it?

We exist in four dimensional space-time!

Or do we?

Who is it?

It's me, Trent.

Jennifer?

It's Sara.

Hey.

Hi.

Hi.

Look what I liberated.

What is this?

Rocket fuel.

Rocket fuel?

No.

No!

Is that Bick?

Which one of you callous,
spineless worms stole The Book?

Yo, Bick, what's wrong, man?

What's wrong is,
some cretin at this party stole The Book.

What book?

Did someone steal his Bible?

No, not some generic Bible,
you little toga hussy.

My book of cool ideas, Ralph.

Hey, geek boy.

Go cry somewhere else, will ya?

I'm no geek, you knave.

And I'm not shutting up
until I get The Book back.

Have it your way, buzz-kill.

Oh, check it out. Fight, fight!

Come on!

This is my house, man!

Ya!

Fucking creep!

What?

Shit.

Help!

Police!

Officers, I've been raped.

- You what?
- I've been raped.

- Geez.
- Raped? Where did it happen?

Oh, God... Oh, God.

No, no, no, no, not raped
like sexually raped.

Raped like the Earth
has been raped.

My cool ideas,
they're in this book.

A notebook.

Kid, kid, kid...

I live in a basement.

So, what, you were not raped?

RALPH: Hey, hey!

Sorry. Yeah.

Hail, Caesar.

Toga party, officer.

No shit.

You been drinking tonight, son?

Absolutely not. No, sir.

Smoke a little weed?

No.

So if I were to pat you down,

I wouldn't find any weed on you?

No, sir.

Not even, like, a small bud?

Nope.

A little roach or something?

No.

- Shit.
- Damn.

Hey, we found your book, man.

Yeah.

Where? Who? How?

I don't know. Some
dumb jerk brought it

and read it on the
toilet. I don't know.

Somebody found it there,
like, right after you left.

- The toilet?
- Yeah.

That ignorant scum.

RALPH: So thank you, officers.

Seriously, really.
Please, thank you.

Uh, but I think we're okay now.

You're all right, yeah?

Okay, get him home, Brutus.

Freaking college kids
with their frickin' books.

It's Saturday night,
for Pete's sake.

Shit.

Ralph,

the shattered cosmos
once again align.

You saved my life.

Thank you.

Yeah, Bick, I...

I lied, man.

I mean, I didn't find your book.

I just...

What do you mean, you lied?

You lied about the...
You lied lied?

Yeah, Bick, I mean...

You lied about The Book, Ralph?

- You lied about The Book.
- I had to, Bick.

We... We can't have cops
around the house with that rager.

Everyone's drinking, drunk,
and I mean, God, even worse.

I mean, seriously,
we could get... fined.

Are you okay?

Oh, holy shit. Shit.

Holy shit! You don't have
some kind of condition do you?

I literally feel like my heart is going
to burst out of my chest right now.

Man, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry about
this we're gonna find your book OK?

- We'll find it, I swear.
- Oh God, get away from me!

Fucking fibster!

You don't care,
you don't even know me!

I'm just some loser who
lives in the basement to you.

I feel like I know you, I mean I
think I get where you're coming from-

Leave!

It's not the end of the worlds, Bick.

Maybe it's a blessing in disguise.

Maybe this will get you to
stop thinking so much and

get out there and do.

Out there? In there?

It's all the same,
and nobody gets it.

I mean, I talk, and I can
see it in their faces.

People think I'm a lunatic.

At least with The Book, I...

I've had enough of
the same conversation

over and over and over.

I think I just need to come home.
I don't think I'm ready for school.

We all agreed.
You, me, the doctor

that school would be
the best next step.

I know, but that decision
was based on a set of facts

that have changed materially,
Dad. Entirely!

I mean, I think I just need to come
home until The Book is finished.

Solve the thing, start from
scratch. And I can't do that here,

wallowing in this cesspool of...

soon-to-be-Deltas of
the brave new world.

Coming home won't
bring back Mom, Bickford.

"Every physical structure in the universe,
including ourselves,"

"and in a constant state of flux,"

"minimally and maximally,
continuously, continuously."

"Yet, our lives are lived in
ever-flowing still frames of reality,"

"sanity being the delusion
of a comfortable continuity"

"within the vortex of infinite chaos."

"Vortex of infinite chaos"?

Come on, you've got to admit, that rules!

I get it.

Well, okay.

Then he goes on to talk about
how we're all sub-atomically in flux

and emotionally in flux and
consciously and mentally in flux.

I mean, even our flux is in flux.

So what?

It's just that when you put all these
ideas and theories and facts together

and think about them
all at the same time,

interconnected,
your brain kind of orgasms.

You must be stoned off your head.

No, I am telling you. This book
actually made me feel these ideas.

I mean, like, tingly in my toes.

'Cause you were on a stoner
safari when you found it.

Like the time you watched
The Seventh Seal stoned

and we didn't do anything
for the next month

but stay in and watch
stupid Swedish movies.

Ingmar Bergman isn't stupid.

Ha!

I should just go
sleep with this guy.

"Copyright Bickford Shmeckler."

What kind
of sick, twistoid parents

would name their kid
Bickford Shmeckler?

I'll ask him.

Okay.

You win. I'll read it.

Shit, I got to get to practice.

9:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning?

That is so not rock and roll.

Yeah, well,
we are not rock and roll.

We're adult contemporary.

There's a difference.

So you really think
this book is that good

that you would actually bang
the guy who wrote it?

Yeah. But I'm a nymphomaniac.

And a klepto.

Hey, quit knocking my hobbies.

You're their prime beneficiary.

Fucking Tarzan
wanna-be motherfucker!

I hope he's not down
there slitting his wrists or...

hanging himself, you know, OD'ing
on pills, something horrible like that.

Dude, why are you so uptight
about Dickford?

He doesn't even like us.

Yeah, quit being such a fag.

Pole smoker.

Butt pirate.

- Fudge packer.
- Ass bandit.

Ha-ha.

Jizz guzzler.

Yuck!

- Dude, verbal violation.
- Dude, that was all net.

All net, man.

No, you don't throw
"jizz" out like...

Gentlemen.

I found this most telltale object

adjacent to the location my
Tootsie Pops formerly occupied.

Huh?

There was an exceedingly
bodacious blonde at the party last night.

She had a wreath-type
flower thing in her hair.

We conversed in the kitchen.

I think she may be it,
the one, the culprit.

That was Sara Witt.

Sara Witt?

She is pretty.

Sara Witt is a stone-cold fox, bro.

Amen.

And she's all for free.

All for free?

Yeah, you know. Alpha Zeta G?

It's a sorority.

Down on Washington Street?

Alpha Zeta G.

Washington Street.

[HOLD ON LOOSELY PLAYING]

♪ You see it all around you ♪

♪ Good lovin' gone bad ♪

♪ And usually it's too late ♪

♪ When you realize
What you had ♪

♪ So hold on loosely ♪

♪ But don't let go ♪

♪ If you cling Too tightly... ♪

♪ You're gonna lose it ♪

You, Trent!

My man is gonna be
late for practice again.

Hey, Herbie. Question.

You think I write good lyrics?

Why?

That Sara thing you're
bouncin' dissin' ya?

Dissin' me?

The chick worships
the ground I walk on.

Yeah right, bro.

Peace.

I am ten times more socially
relevant than this geek.

Sara Witt?

Yeah, all right.

I stopped by that sorority house thing
of yours, and your friends, "sisters,"

droogies, whatever you call them,
told me I could find you here.

Look, I want my book back now,
all right?

You are the girl who stole
my book, are you not?

You're Bickford Shmeckler,

the man with the
metaphorical headache.

And thank you, so much!

- For what? For what? God!
- Inspiration.

God, I read your words,
and look what exploded out of me.

I think this is my best work ever.

What's the black spot
in the middle mean?

That's my clitoris.

It's a motif. I always put it
somewhere in each of my paintings.

Do you like it?

Your clitoris?

No, the painting, silly.

It's, uh...

Look, Sara,
I want my fucking book back, all right?

I'm sorry. I'm just a little
too distracted right now

to do superficial stuff
like look at art.

Mmm, well,
distraction is a vibration

felt in the conscious mind,
sent by the subconscious,

begging it, to pay attention.

It is a whisper from
the mother of invention.

That's...

One of your cool ideas?

It's very bizarre to hear you say that.

Trent.

Meet my new friend, Bickford.

Craptastic.

How could
you throw it away

after how much I told
you it meant to me?

- I thought it sucked.
- Oh, bullshit.

You're just jealous.

What did you expect when you told
me you'd fuck the guy who wrote it?

- Fuck?
- I didn't say it like that.

Yeah, you did,
as a matter of fact.

"Ooh, ooh, his words are so orgasmic."

"My toes are just tingling."

Excuse him, he's an asshole.

Hey, asshole man! It's not here.

You positive
this is the right can?

Yeah, that's it.

Then where's The Book?

Hey, I already apologized,
like, a billion times.

- What do you want?
- Justice! Come here.

Whoa, whoa, hey!

Wait. Hold on, man. Look,
look, I got 200 bucks, okay?

Oh, Trent, don't go there.

That's mine?

Take it. Just, you know,
buy another notebook

or diary or whatever
and rewrite it.

Whoa, Bick!

Bick, hey, just... Wait.

This isn't about money,
you smug, pretentious lemming.

I think I'm ruptured.

Well I got no more use for you.

Oh, Bick...

Come on, Bick. I didn't know
he was going to throw it away.

It's not even really my fault.

Let me make it up to you.

Make it up to me! How?

You've destroyed my life.

You can't make it up to me.
The Book is gone.

It's gone!

Gone!

♪ I'm going back
Where I come from ♪

♪ I'm going back
Where I come from ♪

♪ I'm going back
To Jive County ♪

♪ I'm going back
To Jive County ♪

Hello?

Ralph?

Hey, Bick.

Where are you? Out partying?

I'm in the basement.

That's 30 feet away. Why...
Why are you calling me?

I just didn't feel
like the hike is all.

I just want to express
my gratitude, Ralph.

Hmm? For what?

I know you don't know me.

I've only been here
a couple weeks.

But I... I appreciate the
honest attempt you've made

to be kind to me.

But...

I'm going away...

For good.

What do you mean,
"for good," Bick?

Bitch of it all is that I
was almost finished.

Just looking for a
way to tie it all together.

A summation,
a final chapter, an end.

But now I just, I feel...

like I'm trapped in a Moebius strip.

What, what's a Moebius strip, Bick?

An infinite looping
figure eight, Ralph.

Doomed to repeat the same things
over and over throughout time indefinitely.

It's cool, actually, if you...

Never mind.

I'm going away, Ralph.

I'm gone.

So long, pal.

Bick, hey...

Bick. Bick.

One second!

Are you Bickford Shmeckler?

I'd like to speak to
Sheldon Shmeckler, please.

Who may I tell him
who's calling?

His son.

RALPH: Hey, Bick,
someone's here to see you.

He says... He says he
knows about The Book.

- Hello, Bickford.
- He says he found it.

- Bickford?
- Uh...

Bickford, hello?

Come on, Bick.

His name's Spaceman.

He's a homeless guy who hangs
out in the quad and begs for quarters.

Everyone knows him.

He's a great Frisbee player.

Thank you.

We're Frisbee communicators.

Right, and you have The Book?

Just...

What's this?

You ripped out the first page?

Help us.

Help us, Bickford Shmeckler.

Only you could understand an
extra-dimensional ship...

crashed into our temporal lobes,
co-opting our sight,

sound perception, our motor skills,
our most basic fundaments.

They give us horrible,
horrible migraines.

He sounds a bit like you.

He's a severely delusional
schizophrenic, Ralph.

He is? How do you know that?

Listen, Spaceman.

If you have my book,
I want it back.

After.

First.

Listen.

That's free digital acoustic waves.

Is that some funky shit or what?

I'm lost, man.

Bickford Shmeckler,
science and reason.

You understand.

To the stars...

we'll go.

They'll go.

Home.

I believe this deranged person
wants me to get aliens out of his head.

That's it!

With your help, I can expurgate

- these extra-dimensionals.
- Who?

The aliens in his head
are extra-dimensionals.

Oh, no, no, okay. Yeah.

Spaceman, uh...

just give me The Book back.

- Then I'll help you.
- No.

Fine, no help, and you're going
to give me The Book back anyway.

Help us, or we'll burn it.

You wouldn't dare.

Try us.

- You wouldn't like us.
- I'll call the police.

That won't save The Book.

God!

I'd say it's schizo's ball game.

Rob. Wait, Rob.

Let's... Let's... Let's talk.

Let's share some thoughts.

You mean, like, talk talk?

Yeah, yeah. Blow my mind.

Okay, cool.

- I can do that.
- Okay.

Sara, you're so sexy.

You're on.

You're fuckably fuckalicious.

You got me hot as fuck.

You like talking dirty,
don't you?

Oh, sweet tits.

No, no, no, Rob, no.

Talk, I mean, like a conversation.

I'll still be sexy later, I promise.

I thought you said
you and Trent broke up.

Yeah.

Yeah, I...

Rob, I... This doesn't
feel right anymore.

I can't do this.

Sara, you're the one that wanted
to make out in the first place.

You seduced me.

Yeah.

Yeah, I guess I did.

I just...

I guess it's 'cause you're kind of hunky,
and I thought this would be fun, but...

But what?

You're not fun.

I'm not fun?

No, no, not at all.

What do you mean?
Like, my technique?

Yeah, that,
and also you're just...

You make my skin
crawl just being you.

That's devastating.

Yeah.

Well...

sorry.

Spaceman, regardless

of how I help you interpret
this random collection

of scientific gobbledygook...

Gobbledygook.

Yeah, regardless
of what we do...

Build a rocket ship,
a time machine,

an atomic plasma-powered
slingshot...

Good. That's good,
atomic plasma...

That's excellent.

All right, whatever.

Those aliens are never going
to leave your head,

because you're sick, mentally.

All right?

You need medication.

Do you mean drugs?

Yes, powerful psychiatric drugs.

Have you ever tried them?

Peridol, Zolam, lithium,

LSD, peyote.

Pretty girl. Pretty girl in
a doily right behind you.

You.

Bick.

Contrary to what you
obviously believe,

I am not void of emotions.

I've been feeling
like crap for days.

And Ralph told me about
The Book and Spaceman

- and this whole...
- Expedition.

It's... This is an expedition.

Right.

So I just want you to know
that I...

I can't express how sorry I am...

Not with words.

Draw us a diagram.

I'm involved in a Herculean
struggle for sanity here, Sara.

I don't have time to deal
with your pithy...

pith.

Quit punishing yourself
for being a virgin.

It's the human condition.

We were all born virgins,
and maybe you're just a late bloomer.

I was too, you know.

So that's my problem now, lack of sex?

That's it? Great. Great.

Thank you so much, Dr. Klepto.

That's his problem,
definitely, sex.

Who asked you?

Bob, you dickfor.

It took me 20 minutes
to set that dungeon.

You guys are not
going to believe this.

You know Spaceman?

Yeah, that dude who
hangs out in the dyad?

- Talks to aliens.
- Plays Frisbee.

Yes, him. Okay.

He comes by the shack
sometimes when I'm working, okay?

I give him, you know,
broken stuff

like keyboards, remote controls.

Anyway, he knows me,
and he trusts me, right?

Bob, we're mid-battle

with a lich, two Medusa,

and 40 skeleton warriors.

Thirty-one skeletons.

My sorceress destroyed nine
with a fireball spell.

Listen to me.

Yesterday Spaceman comes
into the shack with this book.

He says he wants
me to hold on to it

for safekeeping,
that people are after him.

You know,
he'll come back for it.

I ask him if it's his diary.

He says, no, he found it
in a garbage can.

Doesn't want to have it on him in case
Interpol comes and shakes him down, right?

I had to have a peek.

It's unbelievable.

It's brain-melting, poetic...

It is the Communist Manifesto
of cool ideas.

And, therefore, what?

I'm quitting the game.

Quitting? Why?

Wait, for good?

For the foreseeable future.

You know, after reading The Book,

Dungeons & Dragons just seems
like a bunch of people, you know,

taking on imaginary roles.

- That's what it is.
- BOB: Yeah.

But The Book, it makes life
seem more interesting than D&D.

You can't quit.

Without your Elfin
rogue-illusionist,

we're never going to make it
to the next level.

You're... He's carrying the
Wand of the Crimson Magi.

If you're out, I'm stealing that wand.

You cannot grave rob.

Yes, he can. He's chaotic neutral.

Read The Book, people.

If you don't agree that it is
a veritable classic that,

but for the grace of God, whose...

existence The Book debates
rather interestingly,

was saved from oblivion
by Spaceman picking garbage,

I will... I will...

I'll buy you, each one of you, a ticket

for next week's Buffy
and Xena convention.

I'm reading The Book.

Dibs on Buffy.

- Xena.
- I'll get both of them.

- Let's do it.
- You totally wish.

Just read The Book.

The Moon is
238,857 miles from Earth.

With the right lens, it looks like
you could just reach out and touch it.

What I want you to do

is turn that telescopic view

inside your mind.

I want you to get a good
beat on those aliens.

I want you to see them

and that extra-dimensional
spaceship of theirs.

I want... I want you to reach in

and flick them.

You can't just flick a spaceship.

It's too heavy.

And the trajection
wouldn't even be accurate.

The theory of meta-lunar
clairvoyant projection is bunk.

Spaceman, I have been
uber-patient with you, all right?

But I've had it.

I've had it! Had it, had it,
had it, had it, all right?

And I've come to a decision
that as far as I can see

is the only cogent way out
of this predicament for me.

I want my book returned now,
or I will kill you.

Do you understand that?

Even your strange
brain can surely access

the instinct of
self-preservation, man.

Use it.

If I give you your book back,
you'll abandon us,

like everyone else
has abandoned us.

Fine! Fine! Fine, fine!

All right, that's fine.

That's okay.

That's that, then.

The next time you see me,

I'll be stabbing you
to death, all right?

All of you.

Bickford Shmeckler,
we need your help.

You have to help us! Please don't leave us,
Bickford!

Tired of thinking the same old shit?

Read The Book.

Are you looking
for a new adventure?

Read The Book.

Look your mind's eye
right in the face.

Get inspired. It's free.

Tired of the same old shit?

Take a copy, comrade.

The revolution begins
in your imagination.

You don't say?

I do.

Get inspired.

Are you looking
for a new adventure?

Are you tired of thinking
the same old shit?

Oh, take a copy, brother.

Oh, you look a lost soul
who could use it.

I'm busy. Move.

Take a copy. It's free.

It tickles the frontal lobe.

Dude, dude.

- Damn it.
- Dude!

The world doesn't need any
more self-important student poets.

Ha-ha, that's fucking... Cock.

Ah, I don't know.

- You were strong.
- Yeah.

Good one.

Watch this special move.

What's that
doing there, P.J.?

Jesus Christ,
clean your shit up.

Where are the butcher knives?

I don't think we have any.

There's some steak knives in the drawer.

Steak knives are too small!

Ha!

This is perfect, it's fearsome.

Wait, wait, wait. Bick,
you're not thinking of...

What are you thinking?

You wouldn't know it
to look at me, Ralph,

but I'm a murderer,
a cold-blooded ax-man.

Desperate times call
for desperate measures.

If Spaceman doesn't give me The Book back,
I swear to God...

Okay, whoa, whoa, Bick!
Bick, whoa!

Slow, slow.

Do the math, all right?

- Now...
- Ha!

You threaten Spaceman
with that turkey fork, right?

You ask him for The Book,
and he refuses.

And he will refuse,
because he's...

deranged, what then?

Then he gets a free tracheotomy.

And The Book? What about
The Book? What about The Book?

He's the only person
who knows where it is.

You'll never find it again.

And you'll go to jail.

It's a credible threat, Ralph.

Mutual assured destruction.

If it helped to stop a nuclear
war with the Soviet Union,

surely Spaceman's going
to understand that...

Spaceman isn't going
to understand shit.

No, he won't.

Goddamn tyranny of logic.

Hello.

Hi.

I'm Trent Masterton to see Sara Witt.

You're Trent.
Hmm.

The poser boyfriend.

She called me a poser?

Among other things.

Also a four-letter word for...

Penis.

Okay, all right.
Is Sara in or not?

Maybe.

Okay, well, could you at least
make sure she gets this?

- Please?
- What's in it?

None of your beeswax.

Is it expensive?

Looks good. Let me see.

Hey, can you give the box
to Sara, please?

Sure.

We'll get it to her.

Take care. Bye-bye.

Hey!

She better get that!

Did you know that the Sun...

is going to implode and take
out the entire solar system...

and all of humanity with it?

- I heard that.
- Yeah.

Doesn't that bother you?

Makes everything seem so futile.

Not really, no.

That's existentialism.

That's like your
essence over existence.

Ideas like that make me feel sexy.

Then you gotta read this book.

Excuse me.

Does one use a withdrawal,

a deferment, or an incomplete
form if one is flipping out

and one needs some time
to get one's head together

and one doesn't want to stick
his dad with a useless tuition bill?

You mean you need a medical leave?

Maybe.

[VELVETY PLAYING]

♪ Out on the Eisenhower
Where I lost my speed ♪

♪ Just a little bit south
Of a town called Weed ♪

♪ I heard a voice
And I had to stop ♪

♪ She called me
Over that mountain top ♪

♪ I was a poor soul lost
In the shady trees ♪

♪ I was going to die
I was going to freeze ♪

♪ Then she touched me ♪

♪ She was velvety ♪

♪ She'll never tell ♪

♪ She made the strangest sounds

Read The Book.

Take it. Put it in your cranium.

Look your mind's eye
right in the face, huh?

What does it mean?
Read The Book.

Read The Book, buddy.
Read The Book.

Come on, people. Read it.

Hey, read The Book!

The Book? No.

May I help you?

Popsicle?

Malt cup?

Frog on a stick?

Laced!

That asshole laced my stuff!

Help!

Hey, I need help.
I am hallucinating.

Call 911.

Our senses work in spectrums,
all right?

Take sight, for example.

Your eyes can only see energy
in the visible light spectrum.

Red, orange, yellow,
green, blue, indigo, violet.

Yeah like a prism, I understand.

All right. Those colors you can
see are only an infinitesimal fraction

of the energy spectrums
that actually exist.

It's the same with sound,
taste, smell, touch, everything.

We exist in this narrow
band of perception.

All right? It makes something
as simple as just thinking clearly,

frankly, impossible.

And that's why you're
withdrawing from school,

because of this, what,
cosmic intruding stuff?

Well, I mean, there are
other mitigating factors,

but those are harder to explain.

Okay.

Bickford.

I think I know why you're upset and...

it's got nothing to do with your book.

Enlighten me.

I mean,

I've had feelings of loneliness too...

you know, and...

anxiety, or...

- Hate. I mean...
- Hate?

And I have to tell you. I feel
safe in telling you, okay, that...

You look at yourself in the mirror,
okay? Really look closely.

I bet...

I bet you see someone who looks...

a lot,

emotionally... like me.

Someone who's gay.

You're gay?

Oh, yeah.

Haven't you ever noticed that...

some guys just

look really...

really good?

You think that I'm...

Like you?

Why not?

There's millions of us.

Come on. No, there are millions.

We're not alone.

Ralph, uh...

I wasn't... born in the way
that I would have to be born

to do the things that you're,
uh... proposing.

Bick, it's Sara...

- the klepto.
- I should...

You're not going to believe this,
but...

I found your book.

Oh, I'm sorry, Ralph.
I've got to get that.

Sara? It's Bick.

You've, she found the book.

Where are you?

Really?

Oh.

Uh, can we use your car to go
pick Sara up from the hospital?

The hospital?

Yeah, apparently she got some sort
of drug-induced psychotic episode.

Yeah, okay I'll drive.

[LAZY FLIES PLAYING]

♪ Lazy flies
All hovering above ♪

♪ The magistrate
He puts on his gloves ♪

♪ And he looks to the clouds ♪

♪ All pink and disheveled ♪

♪ There must be
Some blueprints ♪

♪ Some creed of the devil
Inscribed in our minds ♪

♪ A hideous game ♪

♪ Vanishes in thin air
The vanity of slaves ♪

♪ Who wants to be there
To sweep the debris ♪

♪ To harness dead horses
To ride in the sun? ♪

♪ A life of confessions
Written in the dust ♪

♪ Out in the mangroves
The myna birds cry ♪

♪ In the shadows of sulfur
The trawlers drift by ♪

♪ They're chewing dried meat
In a house of disrepute ♪

♪ The dust of opiates
And syphilis patients ♪

♪ On brochure vacations ♪

♪ Fear has a glare ♪

♪ That traps you
Like searchlights ♪

♪ The puritans stare ♪

♪ Their souls are fluorescent ♪

♪ The skin of a robot vibrates
With pleasure ♪

♪ Matrons and gigolos carouse
In the parlor ♪

♪ Their hand-grenade eyes... ♪

Look, if it's any consolation,

I haven't stolen anything in days.

Well, only one thing,
but that was for art.

And I'm giving up pot too.

For a while...

at least until the end of the semester.

And then maybe
I'll try it again.

Well...

I'm glad my misery has had
such a positive effect on your life.

You're my hero.

It seems all here.

You like her, don't you?

Sara?

I mean, she's...
she's a knockout.

You should go for it.

I mean, that. You should...

She totally violated me, Ralph.

I mean, she utterly destroyed any
confidence I could ever have in her...

although she does
keep kissing me.

Which is, frankly, pretty cool.

"Keeps"? What do you mean,
"keep"? Like...

Like, she kissed you like that,
like what I just saw, before?

Yes, once.

Only this time,
it was more lingering,

and she threw in some tongue.

Pleasant surprise.

Her body is astounding.

Her mind is, like, perky, you know?

Listen, Ralph, I'm sorry I'm not,
like you said, one of the millions.

Don't... Stop... Please... I...

I would have just broken
your heart anyway, Bickford.

Oh, that's great.

Really great.

Just what the doctor ordered.

Now, if you'll excuse me. I'm gonna
go kick some motherfucking ass.

See you later tiger.

[WALKIN' DOWN THE LINE PLAYING]

♪ Well, I'm walkin'
Down the line ♪

♪ Yeah, I'm walkin'
Down the line ♪

♪ Well, I'm walkin'
Down the line ♪

♪ My feet'll be a-flyin' ♪

♪ To tell you
'Bout my troubled mind ♪

♪ On the corner was a man ♪

♪ On the corner was a man ♪

♪ On the corner was a man
A shotgun in his hand ♪

♪ And I really didn't
Understand ♪

♪ That's why
I'm walkin' down the line ♪

♪ Well, I'm walkin'
Down the line ♪

♪ Well, I'm walkin'
Down the line ♪

♪ My feet'll be a-flyin'... ♪

Hello?

Excuse me?

May I have your attention, please?

Uh, you got it.

Look, I'm Bickford Shmeckler.

I'm "Anonymous."

I know this guy.
I know this guy.

You're the uh...

You're the poet-hater guy who hangs
out in the quad with Spaceman, right?

Poet-hater, no. I'm a poet fan,
believe you me.

But I'm the author of this book
you scofflaws have been distributing.

You wrote The Book?

He wishes.

Yes, I wrote The Book.
I can prove it.

I believe the book in your
possession is missing its first page.

Let me see that.

It's the same handwriting.

Whoa.

Bickford Shmeckler? You're him?

You're the guy. You're the guy!

I thought you'd be more...

- Abbie Hoffman.
- Yeah.

Want to hear some of our cool ideas?
We got about nine pag... No? Okay.

They're not, you know,
as cool as yours, but...

They're still fairly intensely
thought-provoking and...

and mildly pleasurable.

We're more...

Socio-political, I guess.

But, you know,
in the tradition of the great book.

If I could just lay this on you,
if I may.

"Governments derive their power
from the masses,"

"but when disenfranchised voters
turn against the institutions,"

"which vest power
in authority..."

Listen, numbskull. That sort of "we,
the people" rap went out with Ben Franklin.

And I'm the one
with the cool ideas here,

and you people are
infringing on my copyrights.

I want my book back, now.

Plus, I insist you dimwits
cease and desist

distributing my book immediately.

Anything less, and I'll return
to your little shop here with a...

with a gas can
and a box of matches.

Listen, you don't understand.

We're your biggest fans.

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

This shop is ground zero
for the reality revolution.

Reality...

All right, all right. That's it.
I'm taking all this stuff.

Hats and T-shirts.

What the hell are those?

"Reality isn't" shot glasses.

Shot glasses?

You people are hopeless.

You know what? Here.
You're not even cool.

Yeah, you're just some arrogant loser

who doesn't even
comprehend merchandising.

Get this guy a box!

Take all this crap out of here.

I can't believe I quit D&D
for you, man.

D&D?

I had the Wand of the Crimson Magi,
but it doesn't matter.

Hey, Slim, hand me those mugs.

Gave it up for you, but whatever.

Why don't you get out?

Take it. Take it and get out.

Why don't you leave the
store? How about that?

Whoa.

[I'M NOTHING PLAYING]

Dork.

♪ I-M-N-O-T-H-I-N ♪

♪ I-M-N-O-T-H-I-N ♪

♪ I'm nothing I'm nothing ♪

♪ Are you a Republican
Or a Democrat ♪

♪ A liberal fascist
Full of crap? ♪

♪ I'm nothing I'm nothing ♪

♪ Somebody somewhere
Might be something ♪

♪ But everybody everywhere
Knows that I'm nothing ♪

♪ Politics and dirty tricks ♪

♪ I got no time
For stones and sticks ♪

♪ Politics and dirty tricks ♪

♪ I got no time
I'm chasing chicks ♪

♪ I'm nothing I'm nothing ♪

♪ Somebody somewhere
Might be something ♪

♪ But everybody everywhere
Knows that I'm nothing ♪

♪ I'm nothing I'm like a cloud ♪

♪ I'm free to be alone
In a crowd ♪

♪ What's your reality? ♪

♪ It's not real to me ♪

♪ What's your anomaly? ♪

♪ It is my destiny ♪

♪ I-M-N-O-T-H-I-N ♪

♪ I'm nothing ♪

♪ Nothing ♪

♪ Nothin' ♪

Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong!

Wrong.

[MAKE IT GOOD TO ME PLAYING]

♪ Let 'em talk ♪

♪ I don't care if it's right ♪

♪ You see
The hour's getting late ♪

♪ If those two lips
Are gonna resist me ♪

♪ You better come on, boy
Come on over here ♪

♪ And kiss me, yeah... ♪

Before we get started, is...

Bickford Shmeckler in class today?

Bickford Shmeckler, are you here?

Bickford Shmeckler.

Present.

Will you please come
see me after the lecture?

Okay.

Great.

Where are you off to now?

All right,
I'll see you over there.

Professor Adams.

Bickford Shmeckler.

I did some research and discovered
the anonymous young man who wrote this

remarkable book was none other
than one of my very own students.

Bickford.

I had no idea anyone
was paying attention...

Not in an undergraduate class, anyway.

Not at a level so penetrating,

profound, dare I say passionate?

Uh, Professor Adams.

Your class has nothing to
do with why I wrote The Book.

I know all this
fundamental stuff already.

I need the credits to graduate.

I know.

I'm pulling your leg.

I enjoyed your work so much,
I took the liberty of passing it on

to a publisher friend
of mine in New York.

What? No, you didn't.

- Yes, I did.
- No.

Yeah, he loves it,
and he wants to fly out here to meet you.

I think he wants to publish you.

And what exactly does that mean?

Well, it means that you owe me a very,
very big favor.

You fascinate me.

All right, there it is.
There it is.

Yup, there it is.

Oh, yeah. Get a good one.

Tip it. Did you get one?

- Ooh, yeah.
- Yeah?

- Yeah.
- Taste the juice?

- Pineapple.
- Citrusy.

That's it. Hold it in.

Hey, Bick, want to join the party?

Eh.

"Eh."

The genie's out of the bottle.

The Book's out there,
way out there.

Everything is becoming extremely tight,
closing in.

You know Professor Adams?
You're not going to believe...

Bick.

I'm all tapped out
of compassion.

You got your book back, man.

Your nightmare, it's over.

Move on, please.

But you, I thought, were my friend.

Yeah, yeah, and as your friend,

I'm telling you, just be happy.

But happiness isn't just
a switch in your head

that you can flip on at will.

Yes, it is.

Happiness is a switch?
That's so uh...

Masturbatory.

Well, isn't masturbation one of
the greatest inventions of all time?

Ralph, come on. I'm in crisis mode here.

All right. What's masturbatory...

is thinking all those
heavy thoughts all day long.

There is no need to be so
intense about everything, Bick.

You're living your book too much.

No, you just got to flip that switch
and take some time and just...

Just chill.

Believe me, you need it, pal.

I'll catch you later.

You disappeared on us.

Uh, I constantly
disappear and reappear.

It's a thing I do sub-atomically.

Yeah.

It's happened several times
in this conversation already,

but it happened so fast,
you couldn't perceive it.

My daughter disappeared
similarly when she was four.

However, indefinitely.

You have a daughter?

I had a wife too...

they're both gone.

Science and reason, you
understand, but they couldn't.

They can never understand this.

I don't understand shit, Spaceman.

How are the extra-dimensionals?

The extra-dimensionals
need you back.

They want us to rescue
them from the misery.

You can save us.

We need you to solve the problem.

You never call. You never write.

And then you just show up
out of the blue.

You really are cultivating that whole
mysterious guy thing, aren't you?

I just...

need to talk to someone.

Okay, Secret Agent man.
What's the rumpus?

I, uh...

I think a publishing company in New York

wants to buy The Book as-is.

Wait, wait, wait, rewind.

Buy it?
You mean publish The Book?

Yeah, I don't know...

I don't know all the details.

Some guy wants to meet me.
He's flying out from New York.

Bick, that is so cool!

Yeah.

That is cool, isn't it?

I'm sorry. I need to go.

Bick, what is wrong?

Why did you even come here
in the first place?

I, uh...

Whatever it is,
it can't be that bad, can it?

I killed my mom, Sara.

What, honey?

I can't sell The Book. I only
started it because of my mom.

You killed her?

No. How?

With a butcher's knife?

A butcher's knife?

Ralph told me about your
episode with the turkey fork, and...

I killed my mom with a car, Sara.

It was like being in a blender.

The car flipped four times.

My mom died the next
day at the hospital...

the other driver instantly.

And uh...

I didn't suffer a scratch.

It sounds like that accident wasn't
even close to being your fault.

That's what I told myself.

I was stoic to the bone.

At her funeral...

I told my grandfather that

her death was proof of the old axiom,
when your numbers up, your numbers up.

He looked at me like I was a ghost.

After a while...

I guess you could say...

I got deluded.

I thought that people thought
I was speaking gibberish,

and when I heard them speak,

they just sounded
like shallow, petty idiots.

Well, that wasn't
your imagination, Bick.

People can be shallow, petty idiots.

It got so bad,
I couldn't leave my apartment.

My...

textbooks would talk and sing to me.

And uh...

food in the refrigerator would
become these, like, wild cartoons.

Trip out.

And there was a knock at the door.

It was my dad...

and some doctor guy
from a mental institution.

And a cop... trained in the
handling of psychotic individuals.

They forced you...

To a loony bin.

Yeah.

And that, Sara,

I have never told anyone.

And they gave me a notebook,

so I wrote.

And the more I wrote,
the more refined my thoughts became.

Six weeks later, they let me out.

And a month after that,
I showed up to school relaxed, rested,

and ready for action.

And then you stole my book.

I'm so sorry.

I just... I loved it.

And I'm so glad you got it back.

I'm going to end up like Spaceman.

No, I am.

Like Spaceman, homeless
on some college campus,

collecting recyclables,
begging for quarters,

and trying to expurgate
extra-dimensionals from my head.

No, you're not mentally ill, Bick.

Not like that, not even close.

You're just...

An anxious, self-absorbed perfectionist.

All good qualities under
different circumstances.

I don't know about that.

You know what you need?

An end to The Book?

No.

A new beginning.

♪ Da-da-da-dum ♪

This contract contains the
terms we're willing to offer,

including a $20,000
advance against royalties,

a 10,000-copy first printing,

and a guarantee to market
the book accordingly.

There's an awful lot of fine print.

Well, that's because we mean business.

Sir...

the only reason that
I'm here is because...

Well, there's this girl who thought
I would be a fool not to meet you.

He has a girlfriend.

Yeah, he's informed me.

Well,
I just want to say, from the start...

The Book isn't finished.

Oh, of course.

No, it could use some editing.

But, Bickford,
I want you to understand

I don't expect you to sign
anything here and now.

Take the contract home.

Show it to your mom and dad, a lawyer.

You could even have a law
student friend review it pro Bono.

Ah, I find this collegiate
atmosphere very invigorating.

I also think, if you'll forgive
me for being so forward...

But, hey, that's why I'm paid
the big bucks.

You may want to give some thought

to finding a title other
than The Book for the book.

Yeah.

It's, well, it's a tad pretentious.

And I fear people may mistake
it for some kind of religious text.

How about Bickford Shmeckler's
Cool Ideas?

'Cause you're Bickford,
and it's your cool ideas.

Bickford Shmeckler's Cool Ideas.

I like it.

You know, Bick,
if I'm reading this correctly,

when the book goes into second printing,

if it does, you could
make out like a bandit.

I just can't stop thinking
this is a bad idea.

It'd be dedicated to your mother.

Yeah, and she's really, what,
going to enjoy spending the royalty checks?

You know, Bick, you should
put a warning label on your book.

"Author full of a shit and doesn't
understand one word of what he wrote."

Where are you going?

Oh, does it matter? I'm not
even in this dimension, right?

Are you breaking up with me?

After six days,
it's not called "breaking up," Bick.

It's called using your
head and steering clear.

You're dumping me because I
won't sell out to the lemmings.

How could you, of all people,
be that materialistic?

I couldn't care less
about the money, Bick.

You've written The Book.

It's finished.

It has been since I met you.

So deal with it.

Misery may love company,
but I don't.

I like fun.

"Author full of shit."

"Author full of shit."

"Warning. Warning.
Author full of shit."

Huh?

Tell me, stranger,

do you doubt that you exist standing there,
listening to my voice?

Uh...

- No?
- Of course not.

Because, ultimately,
that horny little artist girl is right.

I've been thinking my brain fried
for two years, and now where am I?

Nowhere.

You hear that, God?

I've seen through
your secret plan.

No matter how smart,

how clever we all think we are,

ultimately, we all know,
I know nothing.

Shit!

There is no theory of everything.

We know nothing!

And anyone who thinks they need to
know every single goddamn thing is a...

Dipshit.

If I let that girl
walk out of my life...

You're the dipshit?

I'm the dipshit.

"Warning. Read at your own risk."

"The following ideas
are dangerous and addictive."

"Repeated use can induce
insomnia, delusional fantasy,"

"fits of libidinous frustration,"

- "and other psychiatric conditions."
- Yeesh.

"When reading,
place feet firm to the ground,"

"tongue firm to cheek,"

"and fasten your
mental safety belt tightly."

"Above all, remember
that as the fabric of reality"

"begins to rip around you"

"and uneasy feelings overtake
your sense of self,"

"breathe deep and have fun."

Having fun.

Pure, unadulterated,
high-octane physical sensation.

It's, like, the most important thing,
and I forgot that.

So you're just giving us
The Book?

On one condition.

That you keep giving it away for free.

I don't want anybody to profit off of it.

That's not The Book.

Which means, no merchandising.

- Sorry, Bob.
- Well, I don't know...

Douche bag.

You see, he's got a contract.

The guy's blowing 20 grand on us, so...

Zip it.

I don't get it. Why would you give us The
Book when it is obviously your life's work?

Yeah.

All I can say is,
in the last couple weeks,

I had a life-changing,
quasi-psychedelic epiphany.

And I got my fun back.

I had one of those, uh...

I had one of those
epiphanies reading The Book.

But if you had one of those
epiphanies and you wrote the book...

Oh, oh, that's a good one.

Oh, yeah.

What's wrong with them?

Huh! Brain-gasm.

That's the main
reason right there

that The Reality Isn't Club
was ten times more popular

than Advanced Dungeons
& Dragons ever was.

This response actually happens

when people read The Book?

Ga!

Ha! Sometimes.

How utterly curious.

Just stop talking one moment, please.

You didn't know that happened?

I had no idea.

I didn't intend for people
to ever read The Book.

But it escaped.

It had a will of its own, I guess.

My God!

Whoa.

So do we have a deal or what?

You betcha.

[JUST ONCE MORE PLAYING]

♪ My dear
I've painted a picture ♪

♪ I've painted a picture
For the questioned wall ♪

♪ I'll hang it up
With the rest soon ♪

♪ Right up with the next few
That come along ♪

♪ One more ♪

♪ There's room for just more ♪

♪ Once more, make room
For just one more ♪

Dad, it's Bick. I had sex.

DAD: You had sex.

Yeah, a bunch of times.

I never knew what I was missing.

The human body is the
most marvelous thing.

Well, that's good news, I guess.

And you're being... What's
the expression? Safe?

Uh, yeah.

And everything else is okay.

Everything's awesome.
Fundamentally.

That's awesome that it's awesome.

I gotta go.

Okay. Bye, Bick.

What are you writing?

An epic poem.

An epic sex poem.

About you.

It's kind of a sequel to The Book.

Is it a porno?

Actually now that you mention it...

yes.

But it's going to be smart
and crazy subversive.

Ooh, I like crazy subversive.

[THE 59TH STREET BRIDGE SONG
(FEELIN' GROOVY) PLAYING]

♪ Slow down You move too fast ♪

♪ You got to make
The moment last ♪

♪ Just kicking down
The cobblestones ♪

♪ Looking for fun
and feeling groovy ♪

♪ Ba da-da da da da da
Feeling groovy ♪

♪ Hello, lamp post ♪

♪ Whatcha knowing? ♪

♪ I've come to watch
Your flowers growin' ♪

♪ Ain't ya got
No rhymes for me? ♪

♪ Ba da-da da da da da
Feeling groovy ♪

Ah-hoo!

♪ I got no deeds to do
No promises to keep ♪

♪ I'm dappled and drowsy
And ready to sleep ♪

Bye!

♪ Let the morning time drop
All its petals on me ♪

♪ Life, I love you ♪

♪ All is groovy ♪

♪ Ba da da da Da da da da... ♪