All language subtitles for Adult World 2014 1080p

Oh, Sylvia.

This is suicidal plagiarism.

Oblivion receding, the abyss opening,

the screaming dirt of chaos,

blinding.

Strong meter, Amy.

Strong words.

- Thank you.
- Mazel Tov.

Josh?
You're up next.

Good.

I love your words.

This is "Emerald Ambrosia:
An Ode to Absinthe."

Picture it with no punctuation,
because there is none.

An incredibles poet on campus.

- Your turn.
- Oh.

- Whoa!
- Yep.

Just...Okay, yank it.

- Are you still a virgin?
- No, no, I'm not, actually.

It's beautiful.
Your poetry is really beautiful.

I feel like I can see inside of you.

I want to be inside of you.

- Here?
- Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm.

- What was that?
- Nothing.

Wait, wait, wait.

Just relax. Just relax.

What are you doing?

- Easy, easy!
- Come on! It's art!

Stop! Whoa whoa!

Amy...

Your dirt metaphor's a cliché,
and your poetry sucks!

- I hate that song.
- Me too.

By the way, what a misogynistic pig.
You should have castrated that guy.

I don't even care anymore, you know?

I'm resilient.

I'd like to share something with you.

Amnesiac magazine grins,
feeding from the mall,

polyblend combustion burning
on the escalator to nowhere.

Oh, my God,
I think I just got my period.

So haunting, so ahead of its time
it's practically ancient.

1989.

Shit.

Soon, we'll be free of this hellhole.

As the days died early,
she longed escape from her cage.

Thank's mom!

Here, honey.
These were on the printers.

You have a lot of submissions.

There's a small reading fee
for a few of the reviews.

Small? How small?

Well, um,
a lot of the reviews have prizes.

Like, the finger lakes' prize is $1,000,
and I'm a shoo-in.

I mean, you're only eligible
if you're an unpublished,

female poet under the age of 25
from upstate New York.

So...Hello.

Hello!

Hello.

Dad, can I get some stamp money?

Amy, you know
we believe in your talent,

and we know
how special you really are,

but, um, we can't afford
to subsidize your poetry career.

Okay, I know it seems like
I'm not really doing anything right now,

but I am writing nonstop,
all the time.

Things are pouring out of me
you wouldn't even believe.

I could have a volume of poetry
in a week.

I mean, I'm feeling a lot.
I'm thinking a lot.

I'm...I'm inspired, dad.
I'm inspired!

Sweetie, you've got $90,000
in student loans,

and you've already spent
a couple of thousand on these submissions.

so, we can give you an extension
for another week, but, after that, no more.

We just have to cut the umbilical cord.

So...

Let's see what happens with those.

And here's some stamp money...

Just until you win the pulitzer.

- I love you.
- Thanks, dad.

I will suffer through this.

I will suffer through this!

So,
you've majored in poetry.

Yes.

Twice a week would be wonderful.

I could pay you $4.25 an hour.

It was a sign...
Literally and figuratively.

Hi, Hon.

Need some help?

- No, I-I...I didn't mean to come in.
- You come about the job?

No! No, no, no, no.

Not at...
Sorry.

It won't bite you.

Ew!

Nope. Sorry.
We're not hiring.

I could be a real asset here.

I know everything there is to know
about poetry.

Rat Billings is doing a signing
here at this bookstore?

- Yeah, you like him?
- Like?!

"The squalor of splendor"
is one of my favorite poems ever written.

He was 18 when he did that.
It's the best thing he ever did.

He's a good training-wheels poet
if you're not ready for the great ones yet.

Rat Billings is the great.

Salinger worked in a meat-processing plant.

Stanley, this nice, young woman
has come in about the job.

My friends know where I am!

Sorry.

C-come on.

Go on.
Don't be afraid.

Got any experience working retail?

Actually, no.

Are you at all familiar with our inventory?

More or less.

Tell her about our insurance.

Insurance?

Does this mean I got the job?

We try to take care of our people,

so we provide some basic health coverage.

Thank you.

My darling.

Pretty much a mom-and-pop operation.

Mary Anne likes to do the ordering.

I know the merchandise better.

I had a question.
When do I...

You get paid on Fridays,
every two weeks.

Great.

Hi. I'm Alex.
I'm the manager.

- Amy.
- Nice to meet you.

And I'm Rick.

- Hi.
- Rick.

We talked about this.
Rick doesn't work here.

And you should probably wash your hand.

I'm just kidding.

Okay.

- I got a job.
- That's great!

- What?
- See, Todd?

That's wonderful.

Welcome to the adult world.

So, aren't you gonna tell us what it is?
What are you doing?

It's kind of an underground
art magazine type of thing.

I don't like you working
downtown after dark.

That's racist.

I just want to take a minute
to explain our filing system here,

called "sparfs".
It's sexual preference,

age, race, fetish, size...

kind of like the Dewey
decimal system for erotica.

Anyway, this one right here,

they're old, they're black,
and they're gay.

But they wouldn't go in the
"old" section.

They'd go in the gay area,
'cause they're gay.

That's the sexual preference.

And then...

You know, and then it'd go in
the "old" section and then "black" section,

the "black" subsection
of the "gay, old" section.

Anyway, like any great rule of thumb,
there are a few exception to sparfs.

- A green dot...
- Who puts on the dots?

No one knows.

It's a mystery.

- It's really easy to remember.
- Sexual preference, age...

- Race, fetish...
- ...Race, fetish...

- ...Size.
- ...Size.

I memorize it just, like,
by the rap.

Sexual preference
age, race, fetish, size.

It's pretty easy to remember that way,
if you do that.

I'm doing it in my head.
I don't want to do it out loud.

When this gentleman wants to
check out a video, you get his card.

That's got membership info,
notes written by employees.

What are sticky video returns?

- What?
- Really? Okay.

When that happens, we give him a copy
of our customer policies.

There you go.
Reread that.

Thank you.

Here you go.

- Bye.
- Bye.

- Happy first day.
- Thanks.

Have fun with your esoteric reading.

- I'll see you tomorrow.
- Yeah!

- Bye!
- Drive safe!

Thanks!

Hi.
Wow. It's an old one.

Got to be 20 years old.

Thank you.

All right, who's next?

- Hello.
- Hello.

- Hi.
- What's your name?

If you don't want to have your book signed,

can you just step out of the way,
so that people...

Yeah, I'm sorry.

- I'm so sorry!
- I got it. I got it.

I got it. I got it.
I got it.

- No, I got it.
- No, just... let me just do this.

It's fine.

Excuse me, Mr. Billings?

Hi! I am an enormous fan, like,
crazy-big fan of yours!

Thank you.

- It's so nice to meet you.
- We met inside.

I mean...You remember!

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
- Um...

I just wanted to say ignore the reviews.
Your new book is tremendous.

The New York Times
really has no taste anymore.

I know.
It's kind of a badge of honor, really.

I just fucking love your work.

I just want to smash your head open
and take everything in there!

- That's...lovely.
- It really speaks to me.

- What does it say?
- It says, "wake up.

Break free from the chrysalis of
middle-class ennui that's imprisoning you."

You're paraphrasing, of course, huh?

Yeah. Well, I can't believe
we're bantering like this.

- This is so cool!
- Life is surreal, kid.

Your work... the first time I read it,
I remember it so clearly evolved me.

- What did it evolve you into?
- An artiste.

Try not to use the pupa metaphor again,
for the record.

Um, you know...

I thought maybe
we could get together sometime.

You can give me some advice
or let me know how you got started.

It's in the books.

Well, maybe we can get a coffee.

You know, I stopped drinking coffee
'cause my adrenal glands are totally shot.

Maybe we can just talk poet to poet.

- Perhaps.
- You're an inspiration.

You, my dear, are an apparition.
Au revoir.

Au revoir, Rat Billings.

Hey, hey!

That is not your...
come back here!

Hey!

Shit!
Shit, shit, shit, mother, shit!

Would you like personal lubricant...

...or a key chain to go
with your sexist videos?

That's very charming.
You sure you're old enough to work here?

Yeah, I'm an adult.
I swear.

- See you, Mary Anne.
- Bye, Roy.

Later.

- Policemen shop here?
- Sure, same as everybody else.

Well, yeah, but they're policemen.

So?
We're not doing anything illegal.

Yeah, but he's a person of authority
participating in the subjugation of women.

His wife was in a skydiving accident.

She plummeted 10,000 feet,
and her chute didn't open.

Been in a coma for two years.

He rents porn to stay faithful to her
until Jesus takes her.

I'm kidding. I'm kidding.

Okay.

A lot of people like the old-school feel
of browsing the real shelves.

Plus, we have a ton of vintage
stuff you can't find online.

And the sex toys...
sometimes people don't want to wait.

Or have their mom open a fedex box
with their fleshlight in it.

Who's on bathroom duty?

- Not I!
- Not I.

- I am.
- All right.

- All right.
- The brush is under the sink.

My God, there was...

Anybody ever tell you it's rude to stare?

I'm sorry.
I wasn't... I wasn't staring.

- I was, but I didn't mean to.
- So inappropriate.

Hey! Be cool.
Amy's all right.

Amy, Rubia.
Rubia, Amy.

- Hi.
- So, your shift's over.

Do either of you guys know
which bus goes to Dewittshire?

Oh, perfect.
Of course that's where you're from.

- Why are you taking the bus?
- My car was stolen.

Shit. Are you okay?

- Pretty sure I'm traumatized.
- Yeah, I'm sorry.

I think the 5:15 goes that route.

The 5:15 what?

It's the bus route.

No...

Rubia, you go that way, right?
She can show you.

That'd be great.
Really?

I'm gonna rip your nuts off.
You know that?

Give me my battery, please.

- What is this?
- It's a battery.

- From where?
- A Cadillac.

You, like, paying your way
through beauty school?

What?

Why you work at a porn store downtown?

Um, I'm a poet.

Get out? Seriously?

I'm probably gonna get published
pretty soon.

Writing shit about new snow
for the rich is not art.

It's like my favorite haiku.

That's cool.

- I get my battery, please?
- Yeah.

Gracias.

This is where you live?

Yeah, it's that glam building
down the alley, number 666...

El diablo!

Back door, Becky!

Good night!

Hey, you forgot something!

Powder.

Good night.

Riding the bus is like being in Mogadishu.

Um, I've been on the phone all day,

and apparently someone
canceled the theft policy on your car.

- Well, that is bizarre.
- I said, "that's a mistake,"

and then they sent me the signed
letter of cancellation,

and it's a... it's a poem.

That is a series of couplets.

Is that the mail?

The New Yorker!

Please, please.

Rejected.

Amy, do you know
how difficult this year has been?

Why do we keep getting
student-loan bills that are past due?

Why did you cancel the insurance
on your car?

I don't have enough money
for car insurance!

We give you money for your insurance,
and you spend it all on literary contests!

It's an investment in my future.

Stop being such a child.

Everyone needs to stop calling me a child!

You are a child.

All right.
This is my last stop.

Okay, um...

You think you could drop me off
where you dropped off my friend,

you know, the guy... the girl.

- Rubia?
- Yeah, that would be great.

Rubia?
Rubia?

Ms. Rubia?

It's me, Amy.

Remember?

Hello?

- My parents kicked me out.
- So, why'd you come here?

I don't know any other bus routes.

Jesus Christ.

Come in.

Thank you.

You're not sleeping on my bed.

- That's... that's fine.
- Mm-hmm.

I'll stay out of your hair.
I promise.

- What is that?
- It's crack.

Oh, cool.

I'm just kidding.

It's medical marijuana.
It's for my TMJ.

I don't do drugs.

You a poet?

Take a hit.
You need to chill out.

Come on, Suburbia.

- You're pretty.
- I'm a Diva.

- Out of my way, please.
- Sorry.

Say something.

You look like a cheap hooker.

Oh my God.
I didn't mean to call you a whore.

I mean, a hooker.
I...

You're not either.

- Shit, I do look like a hooker.
- I'm sorry.

I don't know why I said that stuff.
I think the drugs are talking.

Don't get cray.

At least I can trust you to be honest.

My teeth feel so big in my mouth right now.

It's just pot, okay?
It's not acid.

Don't your teeth feel huge?

- Ginormous.
- And sharp... they're really sharp.

You need to get them sanded down.

Teeth, teeth, teeth, teeth.

Took a long time to dig it.

But I found out you don't really dig me.

Mm-mm-mm.

So, get your heels a-clicking!

- We are the 99%!
- We are the 99%!

Candace!

- We are the 99%!
- We are the 99%!

- We are the 99%!
- Candace!

Oh!

My God, you got my message!

- How are you?
- I'm so glad you came.

You look great.

Oh my God.
Hey, Pablo, can you help her up?

- I'm getting up.
- One, two, three!

Oh, my God.

How are you? Oh, my God.

I'm so glad you're here!

- How are you?
- I'm so good. I'm so good.

After, like, Cuba and Darfur,

I just realized that this is where
I needed to be, you know what I mean?

In our own decaying country
instead of everywhere else.

Right! Well, great.
I'm so happy for you.

Oh, my God. Sorry.
Pablo?

Pablo, this is Amy.

Oh, Hi.

Pablo and I met hiking across Ecuador.

- We met at the airport.
- No, we didn't. We met in Ecuador,

with the organic chicken farm.
Remember?

- We met at the airport.
- No. He's so crazy.

- No. He's so crazy.
- All right, I'm gonna go.

- I have to go to work.
- No, no, stop.

- Come on. Join the movement.
- Maybe next time.

- No, we need you.
- It seems awesome, so, um...

Maybe next time.
But I'll see you this weekend.

- Let's get together.
- Love you.

Good to see you.

Nice to meet you, Pablo.

- Hell, no, we won't go!
- Hell, no, we won't go!

Um, I gave you a $100.
$75.75?

You're right.
I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking.

Don't worry about it.
Everyone makes a mistake sometimes.

- There you go.
- Thanks.

Enjoy!

Awesome.

You okay?

Every literary review
in the country hates me.

They don't hate you.
I promise.

Oh, they do. Look.

Rejection letters, all of them.

The New Yorker, Harper's.

Even the Southern Tallahassee
poetry review hates me.

I'm running out of time.
Can't be a wunderkind past 22.

A lot of great writers
weren't even recognized till after they died.

I know.

I've been thinking about that a lot lately.

- What do you think of that?
- I think it's horrific.

The previous model, which didn't even talk,
sold like hot cakes.

I'm really beginning
to think that everything in this world

is cheap and plastic.

Nah! These are high-quality.

It says so right on the box there.

"Voice activation is initiated...

...by penetrating
one of the three lifelike cavities."

- Do you want to do the honors?
- I don't want to touch her. No!

Up and to the right, right?
Do you know?

I don't know.
I think that's what I heard.

Can you please stop doing that?

- Ahh!
- Oh, God!

- Oh, my God!
- Give it to me good.

Give it to me.
Oh, yeah.

Give it to me good.
Yeah.

Oh, yeah. Give it to me good.

- It sounds like your dad.
- Ew!

This is just so not how my life
was supposed to turn out.

I was supposed to do great things.

I mean, I got good grades.
I won awards.

I stayed true to my art,

and didn't let myself get distracted
by all that trivial stuff.

Like what?

You know, like, guys and stuff.

Wait.

Never?

You a virgin?

You work at a porn store,
surrounded by dildos,

and you're a virgin?

I assure you,
the irony isn't lost to me.

Well...

You need to find somebody to help you along

and teach you shit,
somebody with connections.

I had someone...

Miss Rowanna Sykes.

She was a wonderful woman.
She taught me everything I know.

How to sing from my diaphragm,
how to walk,

how to love, how to talk Mahjong.

She passed away.

I'm sorry.

I still feel like an orphan.

Go to bed.

Wow! A blizzard!

I need a letter from a past landlord.
It's such a crock!

Well, you should ask your dad
for a letter or something.

Yeah, right. Maybe you can pretend
to be my mom or something.

No, I could be your sister.
You know, I'm 19 on craigslist, right?

Oh, my God.
It's Rat Billings.

- Who's that?
- My favorite poet in the world.

- I'm obsessed with him!
- Go talk to him.

What are you doing?
Why are you hiding?

- Hey, bubby, how you doing?
- How you doing, sugar mouth?

Ooh, brown-bagging it.
You're a thug!

You know, girl.

What are you doing?
Stop doing that!

- No, no, no, no, no!
- We just found you a mentor, girl.

Oh, God, this is a bad idea.

Aah!

So, who is this guy?
What's the story?

He's dark, and he's brooding.
You would think he was so sexy.

- Seriously?
- Seriously.

He kind of looked like Dracula to me.

Well, that's kind of hot, though,
don't you think?

My thighs are gonna get real after this.

Oh, my God, hold on.

Hold on!

Whoa!
Aah!

Aah!

Come on. Keep going.

I'm trying!
My God! I'm just trying to help.

- We're gonna lose him.
- No, I got this.

We're not gonna lose him.
We're not gonna lose him, Amy.

We're not gonna lose you!

He's turning.

Here it is.

This is it.
Go!

Go! Just...I believe in you.

- You can do it.
- No, you're right.

Wait a second.
Wait a second.

Let me clean you off.

- Go.
- Carpe diem!

Hi!
Excuse me.

- Hi.
- I'm Amy, the poet.

- Oh, yeah.
- From the other day?

- Um...
- I do. I remember that.

I was just in the neighborhood, and
I thought I would stop by and say hi, and...

How did you find out where I live?

- Well, you... I saw you driving.
- Oh.

Did Leyner put you up to this?
Did Mark... is this...

Come on.

- No.
- What do you want?

Um...Okay.

I was wondering if maybe
you would be willing to read some of my poetry.

You're a writer.

- Yes, I am, and I...
- Oh.

And I'm really good, and I just...

Been writing long?

I've been writing my entire life,
to be honest.

- That long, huh?
- Yeah.

- Great, great.
- Um...

Okay.

You're my favorite living poet,
I just want to say.

Thank you.

You'd be my favorite dead poet, too,
but, obviously you're not dead yet. I mean...

- No, no.
- Sorry.

- Working on that, though.
- Thank you so much.

I'm gonna bring some of my work by.
I'll just drop it off.

- Or I can read it online.
- You know, I'm just gonna drop it by.

It's no problem.
I'll just come drop it by.

Is everything okay?
Are you thinking?

- Yeah. Yeah, I was thinking.
- Well, what were you thinking?

I was thinking you'd be
the type of muse I'd get.

No, s... are you serious?

I mean, I meant that sarcastically, okay?

Don't stand out here.
I want to close the fucking door.

Okay.

Muse?
Ha!

Here you go...
first paycheck.

Social security, taxes, medicare...

how am I supposed to afford rent with this?

I don't know, but figure it out.

- Are you kicking me out?
- Yes.

- No!
- I don't mean to offend you.

I mean, I'm sorry.

- Why?
- I can't host with you there, Amy.

You're kind of a pain in my ass,
and I don't mean that in a good way.

Don't you like having me there?

- No.
- Why?

You talk like, like...
look how you talk.

Talk like what?!

[ Mockingly ] Like that.

Just...Get a real roommate, okay?

Hi.

No pets, no rap music, no parties,

and no fireworks or gunplay.

- What do you think?
- Oh, This?

It's a shithole.
My parents would be horrified.

We're bohemians.

Are you completely mad?

- Hi!
- Like insane?

It's me, Amy.

I don't know if you remember.
Um, I just moved in down the street,

actually, so I thought I would
bring you a little housewarming gift.

Um... I hope you like kiwis.
There's a lot of kiwis.

- You want to come in, kid?
- Thank you.

Here you go.

Yeah, you can just put that right down.

Can I get you something to drink
or nosh on, maybe a shasta...

or a triscuit or a trinket of some kind?

I'm fine.

Thank you for that.

Um, I put some of my poems in the basket.

Great.

That's great.

I'll look at those at some point.

Why on earth would you want
to be a poet, Alice?

It's Amy, actually.

Um, I...I really feel a lot,
you know?

Even if things are just
happening around me,

I feel like I really internalize it.

And I want to be able to speak
for all the people that suffer,

that feel the pain that I feel every day.

- You know?
- Yes.

Why me, Alice?
Why choose me?

It's Amy, but you can call me whatever.

Um... Well, you're unique.

Your work... it's real,
and it's honest,

and it's very partially subtle,

but then very in-your-face,
you know, loud.

and it speaks for an entire generation.

- No, no, it doesn't.
- Yes, it does.

I don't know what that means.

I'm glad people still like
some of the stuff I did,

you know, back in the day.

- I'm just gonna throw something out there.
- Throw it out there.

- See what happens.
- Yeah, throw it on the trash heap.

- See what sticks.
- Well, okay.

I would love to be your protégé.

My what?

- Your protégé.
- My protégé.

I haven't heard that sober
with my pants on for a long time.

- That's okay.
- What would that entail?

I'm an excellent speller.
I could proofread for you.

- I got a spellcheck.
- Oh, of course.

I always imagined you at a typewriter.

What about readings?
I could do readings for you in your place,

when you're feeling sick
or you're hung over or something.

I feel kind of sick right now.

Um, you want to try that?
Give me... read something.

It's Strindberg,

some passages from Strindberg
I thought were kind of cool.

"There are discords in this life
which can"...

Whoa!
Not... not in that voice.

Try it... just... can you do it
in your own voice without the...

- Sure.
- What kind of voice was that?

That was my speaking-out-loud,
reading-out-loud voice.

Yeah, don't use that one
because it doesn't sound like...

It doesn't sound like...
It doesn't sound like you.

How do you feel about failure as a concept?

'Cause, you know, all the best people
are failures these days.

I failed many times.

That's good.
Continue to fail.

Beckett said,
"if you want to make art, you have to fail."

And so, the artist's job is to fail better.

- Fail better.
- Yeah.

You should make t-shirts.

This has been really good.

- I'm happy that you came by.
- Okay.

What about if I um...
What about if I organize for you.

- You could euthanize me.
- Um...

I could clean.

I could come over whenever you need me to
and just clean.

Like a maid.

- Yeah?
- Chop, chop!

Amy!
Hey!

Hey!
Guess what?!

I got published!
In Anarchist Quarterly.

- Are you sure?
- Yeah.

I'm so excited. It's, like,
the first time I ever sent anything in.

- Awesome.
- I know! It's, like, not a big deal.

It's just, like, some stuff that I wrote down
about the strike and stuff.

But they're gonna give it, like,
the front page, it says.

- I'm so happy for you.
- Thanks.

I'm gonna go frame it.

I think they might have spelled
your name wrong. Just double-check.

Aaaahhhhh!

Amy?

Are you working on a new book?

Excuse me?

Is that part of your new book?

Oh, yeah. Um...
Just a, uh...

Just a little... shitty, little anthology
I'm putting together, you know?

Don't want to but got to pay the bills.

What kind of stuff are you
putting in there?

Mostly unknowns.

- Really?
- Yeah.

I'm going to go out and come back.

So, carry on.

Okay.

"The fright oblivion, deep night.
Spring kills with its might.

Might I delight?"

Question mark or exclamation point?

Sorry, man.

Um...

- Thanks.
- All right.

What are you doing?
Why are you not paying attention?

I am paying attention.

Amy, what are you doing?
Amy, what are you writing?

- What's going on?
- Stop it!

- What are you doing?
- Nothing! I'm sorry!

- Hey, guess what?
- What?

I got a job.

- I'm working for Rat Billings.
- Are you quitting?

No, no.
I still need to work here.

He doesn't believe in money.
So, he's paying me in mentorship.

What are you doing for him
that you're not getting paid?

Um...

Well, I'm kind of his protégé.

A lot of great writers get their start
under the tutelage of another great writer.

You know, like Ford Madox Ford
took James Joyce under his wing,

and Joyce may never have been
discovered otherwise.

Wait!
I just remembered something.

Lepassion.

Call for entries.

"We need erotica written by women
about their sexual experiences."

Yeah.

I know it's not Harper's or
the New Yorker or whatever, but...

It's writing, right?
It's a publication.

Alex, I'm not gonna peddle porn.

Amy, hey,
you're working in a porn shop.

Um, Alex, the girl on the cover?

One of her boobs is bigger
than my entire face.

You do kind of have a small face.

Just trying to help.

Desired reality desires itself,
invents a body of lightning,

bends over, and looks at itself.

"Jaguar waves and skull,

two eyes fixed on two eyes,
idols always the same eyes."

South Americans are awesome,
aren't they?

Who would like to read
another bit of Octavio Paz?

All right.
My assistant, Adrian, will read.

"Dawn.

Cold, rapid hands draw back
one by one.

The bandage of dark.

I open my eyes.
Still, I am living at the center...

...of a wound still fresh."

Allison?

This guy is still in a wound so fresh.

I mean, so much pain and violence.

Yes, yes, but try not to be
quite so literal with it.

That is quite a literal response.

Wait.
So, is that gonna be on the test?

Yes.
You'll be tested.

You'll be tested every day
andfor the rest of your life.

And you know what?
You'll fail.

That's it.

Have you, perchance, found the time
to check out any of my poems?

I mean, I know you're busy.

No, but I will.
So, keep working on them.

Was it hard to get off heroin?

You know, your "opiated blues" days,
when you were homeless and hustling?

Well, in actuality, the smack came later,
after I wrote it.

So, you made all of that up?

Hey, you got to blur the lines, kid.

You really are a bizarre,
little creature, aren't you?

Hello?

Richard Simmons? Why are you getting
mail addressed to Richard Simmons?

Well, I wasn't being mean.
I was being honest.

Oh, my God.
"Rat" is a nom de plume.

More of a nom de guerre,
but don't tell anybody, or they'll skin me alive.

Of course!

They can't take a little criticism
without going to the Dean.

Is that what you're telling me?

All right.
I'll do whatever you want.

No, I won't do that, but...

We'll... we'll... we'll talk
about it later.

Bye-bye.

You're right to be hard on them.
They need it.

I know... generation mundane.

How about a little negative advice
before I depart?

Love.
Love until you hate.

Then, learn to hate your love.
Then, forgive your hate for loving it.

Wow.

On that note,

do not wait to strike until the iron is hot,
but make it hot by striking.

That's William Butler Yeats.

You're dumb,
but you're not stupid!

Time is so weird.

Being 22 is so weird.

- It's weird.
- Super-weird.

It's like this Neverland, you know?
Like, we're not quite kids.

We're not quite adults.

It's like we're marginalized others
or something.

Just cured my insomnia.

It's so cool.
You have such diverse friends, Amy.

You have something on your face.
You have something on your face.

- Yeah?
- Come dance with me.

Come on. It'll be fun.

Okay. It's floor dancing,
floor dancing.

Her need for release exploded
in a violent, lustful vengeance,

as the stock boy finally took her
to the edge of oblivion.

She lay plundered,
fighting for her next breath.

Hey. What's up?

- Nothing. Just writing.
- That's cool.

You gonna drink all that by yourself?

Not all of it.

Put some posters up, maybe.
Paint.

I could help you with that.

And stuff.

Hi.

- You're so funny.
- You're funny.

A second ago, I was teaching him
how to do, like, the dance moves.

It's cool.
You should join, seriously.

I'll pass, thanks.

Okay.
Sweet.

All right. Have fun doing...
what you do.

"For your consideration,

here's a taste of some
of the erotic prose I've been working on.

Sincerely...

Sincerely...

Evelyn...Renoir."

You whore.

Ew.

Hey.
Who's the dead girl on the wall?

- Sylvia.
- How'd she die?

She stuck her head in the oven.

- That's bananas.
- Mm-hmm.

- Did you ever feel invisible?
- No, not really.

Hey, I know what's wrong with you.

Hey.

I've been wanting to do this
ever since I met you.

What?

Whoa.

She's a snow leopard.

I need a drink.

Holy mother of God.

I can understand that.
Sure.

Come on in.

Make it a stiff one, Buster,
and make it snappy.

You look lovely tonight.

What are you doing out here this late?
It's the witching hour.

Maybe I'm a witch.

Ran right into that one.

A-ha!

Why are you dressed like a hooker?

And so began our torrid love affair.

- Whoops.
- Oh, my God.

Jesus Christ.

I want you to deflower me.

I've chosen you, Rat Billings,
to open the bud of my womanhood.

I only ask that you treat me
as you would treat a poet.

What, you want me
to slap you around a little bit?

I want to be picked like an exotic flower,

like a rare breeze.

You actually are a pretty girl,
aren't you?

Do it to me!
Do it to me good!

Oh, come on.
Don't use that voice.

Do it to me!
Do it to me good!

That's when you're losing me,
with the "do it it to me, do it to me good."

I thought people liked that.

No, I don't believe anything you're saying,
sweetheart.

- Have sex with me.
- No.

- No to the voice or no to the sex?
- No to both.

What, do you think I'm ugly or something?

No, no.

I think you're psychotic.

You're just a kid.

- I am a woman.
- You're a little snickers bar.

You're a little snicks.

I'd like to read you
something I wrote for you.

You're a little snick-snack.

You're an asshole.

"In squalid ether,

digital-surveillance nightmare.

Shattered wings catapult
the vast vulva of shattered oblivion."

It's astonishing.

Tell me what you really think of it,
poet to poet, mentor to protégé.

Tell me the truth.

Do you think I could be a real poet?

- Snicks.
- Do you?

Tell me!

Snickers? Snicks?

Well, you're off to a good start.

There's more.

- Can I use the bathroom?
- Yeah.

So, where'd you go last night?

To an awful, terrible place
I may never recover from.

What happened? Are you okay?

I messed up.

I'm such a failure.

Whatever it was,
I'm sure it wasn't that bad.

Trust me. It was bad.

Well, I've done some really stupid shit.

Last night?

No, last night I left right after you did.

Your friend Candace is kind of an...
octopus.

I had to escape her testicles.

Tentacles.

I've been working here too long.

Whatever, really, though,
I've done things I wish I hadn't.

It's part of life.

But if you need anything,
let me know.

Thank you.

- That's really nice of you.
- You're welcome.

What do you want to bet
that's a bachelorette party?

- Hi.
- Hi.

Um... we're only in here because
we're going to a bachelorette party.

- A bachelorette party?!
- Yeah.

Oh, my God!

And I was wondering if you had,
like, some kind of package?

- I have a package.
- Good.

- I'll be right back.
- Thanks.

Oh, my God!
Amy?

Amy Anderson?

Oh, my God, Maggie!
Hi!

How is it going?
I didn't see you.

Amy used to go to my middle school.

She thought she was gonna be
this famous poet.

I'm actually,
um, I'm still working on that.

What's it like
working in a dirty-video store?

I bet you see a lot of freaks.

You know what, Maggie?
You're a freak!

O--Kay.

Rat?!

I'm not receiving any visitors today.

It's life-or-death.
It's creative life-or-death!

I am so sorry that I vomited upon you,
but I need to know the truth.

Truth's subjective, Amy.

Cut the bullshit, okay?

I am in physical and emotional
pain right now.

I need to know
what you thought of my poems.

Well... You're in pain? How much...
What... what kind of pain are you in?

The worst pain I've ever been in.

Oh, okay, well, on a scale,
what would you say you are, on a universal...

- On the Wong-Baker facial-grimace scale?
- This is the death of a loved one, all right?

- It's a 10. It's worst pain possible.
- No. That's like Auschwitz.

So, I mean, I think it's...
you would be somewhere...

Somewhere in here, I think.
If you go like that...

And, then, you're like that,
and that's Amy.

Here, you know, where it's on
this side of it, maybe in Cleveland.

- Tell me!
- I read your poems.

- And?
- Credit to your tenacity.

- What's this?
- It's a map.

Russia and Mongolia.

Just, I want you to go there one day
and write something.

Anyway, I found them exceedingly special.

I found them uniquely you.

I found them... most like you.

- You really think so?
- Yeah, yeah.

In fact, I'm putting together
a little anthology,

a little, shitty, little, shit-filled,
shit-stained anthology of new work.

- And?
- And it's not anything major,

but, if you want, I can include
one of your shitty, little...

Oh, my God! Yes!!

Oh, my God, thank you!

Thank you, thank you, thank you,

thank you, thank you, thank you!

All right, all right, all right.

Yes, yes!
This is the best day ever!

This is the best day ever!

Oh, my God!
Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Thank you, thank you!
Whoo!

All right, I'm gonna go.

Thank you!

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

- Come on, darling.
- Good night.

- Good night, darling.
- Good night.

You asshole!

- Hi.
- Hey. What's up?

Did you just see what just happened?

What?

That asshole just stole a bunch of shit.
You didn't even notice.

I-I'm sorry.

- I was rearranging some DVDs.
- You know, you're lucky to have this job.

Any other place would have fired you by now.

And you get to do anything you want here,
and we don't say shit.

And you just take advantage.
It's bullshit.

Okay, I'm sorry, but...

It's not like this is a career.
It's a stupid job in a stupid place.

This place is how
Stan and Mary Anne make their living.

It's how I make my living.

And it really pisses me off
that you think that you're better than that.

What are you trying to say?

I'm saying go find yourself
another stupid job.

Fine.

You know, I'm up for a lot
of awards right now and accolades,

and I don't need
a job that's for losers, okay?

Especially not in this... this porn hole!

Yeah?

The napkins that I had over there
that I moved over here...

...that I was working on, the white ones?

I don't know about those.

What do you mean
you don't know about them?

They were here, and then you cleaned up,
and then things got unorganized.

The manuscript's on the napkins
that were with the coasters...

...that you moved over from over there
when I told you not to clean,

don't clean, don't clean.

And you did, anyway?
I can't find them.

Oh, napkins, napkins.
There's napkins there.

I know.
I'm not looking for these.

I'm looking for these.

This has got this.
This is this.

Where are they?
I told you not to clean up.

If you put them back over here,
I'm gonna be very upset with you.

Here they are.
I found them.

I must have accidentally
put them in my purse.

I don't know why.
I'm sorry.

- Um, here you go.
- What were they doing in your bag?

Okay. Are you gonna be mad?

I'm already mad.

I thought that it was trash,
like, doodles or something.

Do I look like a doodler to you?

- Not now you don't.
- Okay, so, that's bullshit.

I thought it would be cool to have
something of yours for when you die.

I'm not gonna die...
Ever!

You idiot.

I really wouldn't have taken them
if I thought they were important.

All right, look.

You can have that one.

Thank you.

This is really good.
This one's...

You should keep this one.
This one's really good.

You were so young when you became famous.

You and Rimbaud, both so talented,
and younger than I am now.

Fame's your generation's black plague, kid.

That's really good.
Who said that?

I did, just now.
Me.

I said that to you.

Alex hates me.

Men are really delicate.

They get their feelings hurt easy.

- Oy!
- Here.

I want my job back.

- You like Alex.
- What?

That's absurd.

You're all like,
"what's tomorrow gonna be like?

And what will people think of me?"

You're gonna be blind
to what's right in front of you.

Forever is comprised of nows.

Emily Dickinson, bitch.

Get my fat toe.

Hey...

Alex.

Are you here to rent a movie?

- No.
- Then, you'll have to excuse me,

because I have
a very patient customer waiting.

- You want a 3- or a 5-day rental?
- What do the green dots mean?

- Uh..
- It means new release.

Alex, I'm sorry.

I am not too good to work here,

and I didn't mean
any of those things that I said.

Do you have the antimicrobial
anal beads?

Sorry, buddy, we're all sold out.

There should be more
coming in Monday, though.

I'm not better than this,

and I don't think
working here is for losers.

I want my job back.

Why?

So, I can find out
who puts the dots on.

Do you have any of those
leather masks that are flame-retardant?

What the fuck is with...
No, we don't. I'm sorry.

- She took the last one.
- They're awesome.

I'm gonna let you deal with that
'cause that's your punishment.

Thanks.

- What's your name?
- Max.

Max.

Max...Max.

"Cougar Den."

"Dorm Girls."
This is the wrong Max, isn't it?

Mm-hmm.

Hey, I brought you some turtlenecks.

- Thanks, mom.
- You're welcome. They're all-cotton.

Dad says hi.

- Does he hate me?
- Mm-hmm.

We both do.
No, he doesn't hate you.

We love you,
but we're a little worried about you.

What? I'm fine.

I have a good job now. I mean things...
Things are really looking up.

But are you happy?

Mother, an artist's life...

It really is a life of solitude.

That is, um, bullshit.

It's almost your birthday.
Let's just plan a party, okay?

You haven't had a birthday party
for a while.

Dad wants to see you.

I want to meet your friends.
I always used to meet your friends.

I'll make you a cake.
What kind of cake do you want?

- Cheese.
- I can do that... cheesecake.

- Anything else?
- Sprinkles.

Good!
That's... now we're talking.

Rainbow, not chocolate.

It's gonna be fun.
You're very skinny.

I'll make you two cakes.

- Whoo!
- Yay!

Whoa-ho! Happy Birthday!

Hello?

- Hi!
- Hi.

- I'm so happy you came.
- We just thought we'd stop by.

Sorry we didn't wait for cake.

- Happy Birthday.
- Thanks.

This is my friend Yumi.
She's a theoretical linguist.

This is Amy,
the girl that I told you about.

Um, do you want some cake or something?

- Sure.
- Drinks?

- Yeah.
- This is my family.

- This is Rat.
- You must be Mrs. Anderson.

- How are you?
- No, I am Mrs. Anderson.

I know!

Todd Anderson.

- Nice to see you.
- Hello. Nice to meet you.

- What's your name?
- Rubia.

- I'm sorry?
- Rubia.

Rubia.

- Hi.
- Alex.

- Alex.
- Would you like something to drink?

Yeah, do you have any wine?

- Sure do, yeah.
- 'Cause I think Yumi likes wine.

- Red is fine.
- Okay.

And I'll have... do you have coffee?

- We have coffee.
- And red wine for the Yumi,

- and can you bring the cake cutter?
- You need a cake cutter.

- So, a cake cutter and...
- Yeah.

That was really amazing,
what you did for Amy.

I haven't done anything to Amy.

Well, no, but you see
how talented she is.

That's amazing.

For a girl like her,
there's nothing she wants more.

She's a good kid.

She's just, as my father used to say,
"free of all knowledge."

Ho-ho-ho-ho!

Somebody knows what they're doing.

This is for you.

I don't want you to open it
in front of everybody,

'cause then they're like,
"oh, it's from Alex" and "what is it?"

You know, that's weird.

"Letters to a young poet."

Yeah.
I know you probably read that, like...

a thousand times, but...

No, I haven't.
I haven't read this one.

Sweet.

Score.

"Amy, Happy Birthday.
I thought of you when I saw this."

No! Shh! No.

You're not gonna read that.
No.

I'm a dork.
It's embarrassing.

Thank you. I love it.

- You're welcome.
- Seriously, it's a really good present.

- Where's Rat?
- He had to leave, honey.

- Seriously?
- Yeah, but he left you a present.

"Here it is... Rat."

It's a galley of the book that I'm in.

Oh, my gosh! Open it!

Open it!

- I can't do it.
- I got nails.

Careful with the paper, please.

Let me see.

"Shit poetry... an anthology of bad verse,"
edited by Rat Billings.

Well, what is this?

My poem.

"Hilariously awful"...
Joan Didion.

"So bad, it's good"...
Zadie Smith.

"So terrible, I laughed and then I cried"...
Jonathan Franzen.

Oh, my God,
Jonathan Franzen!

Amy...

Amy?

Amy?

- Amy, come on.
- Amy!

Amy, stop.

Amy.

Come on, honey, it's your birthday.

Amy, it's really not that bad!

Honey?

Aaahhhh!

You miserable son of a bitch!

Where are you?

- Problem?
- "Shit poetry"?!

"An anthology of bad verse"?!

It's just a silly little book
for the urban outfitters.

You know, hipsters are gonna love it.

They're gonna be reading my poetry
while taking a shit!

You said you wanted
to be published, didn't you?

Not in a book that people are gonna read
while they're on the toilet!

How do you think I feel? It's probably
gonna outsell everything I've ever written.

Aahhh!

All right.

Who anointed you the arbiter
of poetic quality, anyway, huh?!

It's not quality.

It's poetry that's so bad,
it goes around the world,

and it's kind of good.

The Rat Billings that I admired?
He is dead!

You're a big, fat phony,
and you know what?

You're old!
You're an old, phony man!

That's what you are!

An old phony!

An old, washed-up phony!
Why?!

I want to know why you would do
this to me?! Why?!

Why?! Why?!

Because somebody needs to tell you
the goddamn truth, Amy.

I thought truth was subjective.

No, it's not subjective.

Not everybody can grow up to be
Beyoncé or the president.

Not everybody's talented, okay?

And fame doesn't mean shit.

Amy, if everything was great,
nothing would be great.

- Nothing would be special.
- I am special!

I got straight A's!

I scored in the 97th percentile
on my SAT's!

Thank you very much!

The SAT's don't mean shit.
That's like believing in scientology.

- Easy, easy.
- You're bullshit.

- Nobody cares...
- You all right?

She's a monster.
Get her out of here!

- Come on.
- All I wanted was your advice!

You're a phony,
Richard Simmons!

Don't take my...
don't take my napkins!

- Get the fuck out of here!
- Don't take those napkins!

Don't take my napkins!

Will you just pull over?

Yeah.

You shouldn't care what anybody thinks.

It doesn't matter.

Zadie Smith thinks I'm an idiot.

No, she doesn't.

And Rat probably hates himself.

I can't face anyone.

I don't want to go back
to my parents' house.

I just don't want to see anyone.

You want to go to my place?

Yeah.

Just make yourself at home.

Want some water?

- Did you do these?
- Yeah.

Yeah, don't look at that.
No, no. Hey, hey.

It's not finished.

I don't know what that is, actually.

This one is so beautiful.

Thank you.

- Have you shown these?
- No.

Why not?

You could be famous.

Well, it's not really about that.

For me, it's more kind of just something
that I like to do, on my own, you know?

Don't you have anything
that you just wrote for yourself,

and you didn't want to show anybody?

No, not really.

Huh.

I should go.

Um...
You want me to drive you?

- That's okay.
- Okay.

Trey, let me call you back.
I got a problem here.

What?!

Relax.
I'm not gonna do anything.

- Are you sure?
- I promise.

What do you want?

I read some of your work.

It's, uh...

It's beautiful...some of it.

It's heartbreaking.

It's too bad
you're such a colossal asshole.

- Yeah.
- Thank you for saving me...

...a lot of time and agony, but you didn't
have to be so terrible just because I suck.

You don't suck, Amy.
You don't anything yet.

That's the point.

You might be a great writer someday.
I don't know.

You haven't even lived yet.
Go to jail, you know?

Become a nun. Right now
you're just a suckling, little piglet.

Just go out and live your life
and get your heart broken and...

Get out of mine!
Please.

- For a little while.
- Okay, Rat.

Okay.

I'm not done.

You got to stop taking yourself
so seriously.

The world is full of innocuous mundanity,

and people are literal and stupid.

But you're a fighter, you know?

A rebel.

- Did you rehearse that one?
- Maybe.

Yeah. It doesn't quite work yet,
does it?

You know what?

There may not really be a place
for poetry left in the world, Amy.

The literal may have triumphed
and conquered all, but we...

We press on, right?
We press on.

Now give it to me, and...

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.

You give it to me good, man.
Give it to me good.

You know what I mean?
Because, like, this is it.

This is the moment.

Rat...

Stop taking yourself so seriously.

I want to tell you something right now.

The culture around us is disintegrating.

But you are not a part of that.

You stand against the tide,
and that is no small thing.

You will always be a hyena, Amy.

Arthur Rimbaud.

You're a thief...
Regal and ragged!

No, stop!
You're gonna rip it!

- I win. Do you need help?
- Yeah.

What?

You have paint on your face.

- I do?
- Hang on.

Oh, God, no.
Hey, hey!

- What?
- It's really embarrassing.

- There's a few of them here.
- It's really embarrassing. Come on.

No, I like them.
They're cool.

I like that one.

I was worried you would think
that was creepy.

It's not creepy.
It's cool.

I like them.

Are you gonna take off your clothes?

- What is this?
- I'm wearing two shirts.

Being with him
was as perfect as a sonnet.

- Did I just say that out loud?
- Yeah.

- You do that a lot.
- No.

I like it.

Don't get it.

Why are you getting it?

Whoa!

Hello?

This is she.

Really?

Oh, my God, I can't believe that.

Um... Really?

Okay, yeah,
just send over the contract.

Okay.

Yeah, that sounds great, actually.

Cool.
Okay, thank you.

Bye!

What is that?

Is everything okay?

You're never gonna believe this.

- I'm getting published.
- What?!

I know. It's... it's gonna be on the website
later today and in the magazine next month.

Oh, that's amazing.

- And I got $500.
- Score.

What magazine?

I'm numb.

I want to read it.
What magazine is this?

- Lepassion.
- Lepassion?

- What? You submitted?
- Yeah.

Oh, my God!
That's amazing.

And you're gonna be published... again.

- Yeah.
- Yeah, this time it's good.

It's very good.

- This is good.
- Yeah.

We should celebrate.

- What is this place?
- Just a place.

You're so cryptic.

- Hey, Alex, what's up?
- Hey.

- Got that?
- Yeah.

- Hi.
- Hi.

- Hi.
- Hi.

She's new. Be nice.

Alex, you should really show your work.

Yeah, I don't know.

I'll probably just end up working
at a porn store the rest of my life.

Really? Me too!

You should really keep writing, though,
because you kind of suck at your day job.

- As long as I'm not boring.
- You're not boring.

You're a weirdo.
You are not normal.

And it's inspiring.
It's cool.

- Thanks.
- You're welcome.

Bend the other leg, too.

- Both legs?
- Yeah, you like that?

Oh, God, that's sexy.

I'll get something to go with her.

Thank you.

Hello?

Thank you.

It's over.
Go home.

= By Born3o =
Revisions by MacRellen