All language subtitles for Fight.Clubs.10th.Anniversary.Edition.1999.1080p.BrRip.x264.YIFY

People are always asking me

if I know Tyler Durden.

3 minutes.

This is it - ground zero.

Would you like to say a few
words to mark the occasion?

With a gun barrel
between your teeth,

you speak only in vowels.

I can't think
of anything.

For a second
I totally forget

about Tyler's whole
controlled demolition thing,

and I wonder
how clean that gun is.

Getting
exciting now.

That old saying,

how you always hurt
the one you love?

Well, it works both ways.

We have front row seats

for this theater
of mass destruction.

The demolitions committee
of Project Mayhem

wrapped the foundation
columns of a dozen buildings

with blasting gelatin.
In 2 minutes,

primary charges
will blow base charges

and a few square blocks

will be reduced
to smoldering rubble.

I know this...

because Tyler knows this.

21/2.

Think of everything
we've accomplished.

And suddenly, I realize
that all of this

the gun, the bombs,
the revolution...

has got something to do with
a girl named Marla Singer.

Bob. Bob had bitch-tits.

This was a support group for
men with testicular cancer.

The big moosey
slobbering all over me,

that was Bob.

We're still men.

Yes, we're men.

Men is what we are.

8 months ago, Bob's
testicles were removed.

Then hormone therapy.
He developed bitch-tits

because his testosterone
was too high,

and his body
upped the estrogen.

And that was where I fit...

They're gonna have to
open up my pecs again

and drain the fluid.

Between those huge,
sweating tits

that hung enormous the way
you'd think of God's as big.

OK. You cry now.

No, wait. Back up.
Let me start earlier.

For 6 months,
I couldn't sleep.

I couldn't sleep.
I couldn't sleep.

With insomnia,
nothing's real.

Everything's far away.

Everything's a copy
of a copy of a copy.

When deep space
exploration ramps up,

it'll be the corporations
that name everything...

the I.B.M. Stellarsphere,

the Microsoft Galaxy,

Planet Starbucks.

Gonna need you out of town
a little more this week.

We got some
red flags to cover.

It must've been Tuesday.

He was wearing
his cornflower-blue tie.

You want me to deprioritize
my current reports

until you advise
of a status upgrade?

Make these your primary
action items.

Here's
your flight coupons.

Call me from the road
if there's any snags.

He was full of pep.

Must have had
his grande latte enema.

Like so many others,
I had become a slave

to the IKEA
nesting instinct.

Uh, yes. I'd like to order
the Erica Pekkary dust ruffles.

Please hold.

If I saw something clever

like a little coffee table
in the shape of a yin-yang,

I had to have it.

The Klipske
personal office unit,

the Hovetrekke
home exer-bike,

or the Johannshamn sofa

with the Strinne green
stripe pattern.

Even the Rizlampa wire lamps

of environmentally friendly
unbleached paper.

I'd flip through catalogs
and wonder...

What kind of dining set
defines me as a person?

I had it all.

Even the glass dishes

with tiny bubbles
and imperfections.

Proof that they were crafted
by the honest, simple,

hard-working indigenous
peoples of...

Please hold.

Wherever.

I was holding.

We used to read pornography.

Now it was
the Horchow collection.

No, you can't
die from insomnia.

What about narcolepsy?

I nod off. I wake up
in strange places.

I have no idea
how I got there.

You need to lighten up.

Can you please just
get me something?

Red and blue Tuenols,
lipstick-red Seconals.

No. You need
healthy natural sleep.

Chew some Valerian root
and get more exercise.

Hey, come on.
I'm in pain.

You wanna see pain?

Swing by First Methodist
Tuesday nights.

See the guys
with testicular cancer.

That's pain.

La la la

La la la la la la

I always wanted 3 kids,

2 boys and a girl.

Mindy wanted
2 girls and a boy.

We never could
agree on anything.

Well, uh,
you know, she...

She had her first child
last week, a...

a girl.

With... With her, uh,
with her new husband.

Fuck.

Hey... Hey, thank God,
you know.

I'm... I'm glad for her.

Because she deserves it.

Aw.

Everyone, let's thank Thomas
for sharing himself with us.

Thank you, Thomas.

I look around this room,
and I see a lot of courage,

and that gives me strength.

We give each other strength.

It's time
for the one-on-ones.

So let's all of us here
follow Thomas' good example

and really open ourselves up.

Would you find a partner?

And this is how
I met the big moosey...

Come on.
Let's go over here.

His eyes already
shrink-wrapped in tears...

knees together,
those awkward little steps.

My name is Bob.

Bob.

Bob had been
a champion body-builder.

You know that
chest-expansion program

you see on late-night TV?
That was his idea.

I was a juicer.

You know,
using steroids.

Diabonal and...

Wistrol.
Oh, they use that

on racehorses,
for Christ sakes.

And now I'm bankrupt.

I'm divorced.

My 2 grown kids...

won't even return
my phone calls.

Strangers
with this kind of honesty

make me go
a big rubbery one.

Go ahead, Cornelius.

You can cry.

And then,
something happened.

I let go.

That's really good.

Lost in oblivion...

dark and silent
and complete.

I found freedom.

Losing all hope was freedom.

It's OK.

Babies don't sleep
this well.

I became addicted.

Come on.

If I didn't say anything...

people always
assumed the worst.

Welcome, Travis.

Second Welcome, Travis.

They cried harder...

then I cried harder.

Now we're going
to open the green door,

the heart chakra.

I wasn't really dying.

I wasn't host to cancer
or parasites.

I was the warm little center

that the life of this world
crowded around.

Imagine your pain

as a white ball
of healing light.

It moves over your body,
healing you.

Now, keep this going.
Remember to breathe,

and step forward

through the back door
of the room.

Where does it lead?

To your cave.

Step forward
into your cave.

That's right.

You're going deeper
into your cave,

and you're going to find
your power animal.

Slide.

Every evening, I died...

and every evening,
I was born again.

Resurrected.

Bob loved me
because he thought

my testicles
were removed, too.

Being there...

pressed against his tits,

ready to cry.

This was my vacation.

And she ruined
everything.

This is cancer, right?

This chick Marla Singer

did not have
testicular cancer.

She was a liar.

She had no diseases at all.

I had seen her
at Free and Clear

my blood parasites group
Thursdays.

Then at Hope, my bimonthly
sickle cell circle.

And again at Seize the Day,

my tuberculosis
Friday night.

Marla, the big tourist.

Her lie reflected my lie,

and suddenly,
I felt nothing.

I couldn't cry.

So once again,
I couldn't sleep.

Next group,
after guided meditation,

after we open
our heart chakras,

when it's time to hug,

I'm gonna grab
that little bitch

Marla Singer
and scream...

Marla, you liar!
You big tourist!

I need this!
Now get out!

I hadn't slept in 4 days.

Absolutely.
We'll just let that dry.

When you have insomnia,

you're never
really asleep...

and you're
never really awake.

To begin
tonight's communion,

Chloe would like
to say a few words.

Oh, yeah... Chloe.

Chloe looked the way

Meryl Streep's skeleton
would look

if you made it smile
and walk around the party

being extra nice
to everybody.

Well,
I'm still here,

but I don't know
for how long.

That's as much
certainty

as anyone
can give me.

But I've got
some good news.

I no longer
have

any fear
of death.

But I am in
a pretty lonely place.

No one will have sex
with me.

I'm so close to the end,

and all I want is to get
laid for the last time.

I have pornographic movies
in my apartment,

and lubricants
and amyl nitrate.

Chloe...

Everyone, let's
thank Chloe.

Now, let's...
ready ourself

for guided meditation.

You're standing at
the entrance of your cave.

You step inside your cave,
and you walk.

If I did
have a tumor...

I'd name it Marla.

Marla...

the little scratch
on the roof of your mouth

that would heal if only
you could stop tonguing it,

but you can't.

...deeper
into your cave

as you walk.

You feel the healing energy
of this place

all around you.

Now find your power animal.

Slide.

OK. Now let's partner up.

Pick someone special
to you tonight.

Hey.

We need to talk.

Sure.

I'm onto you.

What?

Yeah. You're a faker.

You're not dying.

Sorry?

In the Tibetan philosophy,
Sylvia Plath sense of the word,

I know we're all...
we're all dying, all right?

But you're not dying the way
Chloe back there is dying.

So?

So you're a tourist.

OK? I've seen you.
I saw you...

saw you at melanoma,

saw you
at tuberculosis,

I saw you at
testicular cancer.

I saw you
practicing this.

Practicing what?

Telling me off.

Is it going as well
as you hoped...

"RUPERT"?

I'll expose you.

Go ahead.
I'll expose you.

All right,
come together.

Let yourselves cry.

Oh, God, why
are you doing this?

It's cheaper than a movie,
and there's free coffee.

No, look...

this is important, OK?

These are my groups.

I've been coming here
for over a year.

Why do you do it?

I don't know.

When people think
you're dying,

man, they really,
really listen to you

instead of just...

Instead of just waiting
for their turn to speak.

Yeah.

Share yourself... completely.

OK, you don't want
to get into this.

It becomes an addiction.

Really?

I'm not kidding.

I can't cry if there's
another faker present,

and I need this.

So you got to find
somewhere else to go.

Candy stripe
a cancer ward.

It's not my problem.

Wait, wait, wait.

Whoa. Hold on.
I'll tell you.

We're gonna split up
the week, OK?

You take lymphoma
and tuberculosis...

You take
tuberculosis.

My smoking doesn't
go over at all.

OK. Good. Fine.

Testicular cancer should be
no contest, I think.

Well, technically,

I have more right to
be there than you.

You still have
your balls.

You're kidding.

I don't know. Am I?

No. No.

What do you want?

I'll take the parasites.

You can't have
both the parasites,

but why don't you take
the blood parasites...

I want brain parasites.

I'll take
the blood parasites,

but I'm gonna take the
organic brain dementia...

I want that.

You can't have
the whole brain.

So far you have 4.
I only have 2.

OK.

Take both the parasites.
They're yours.

Now we both have 3.

Hey, you left
half your clothes!

What, are you selling those?

Yes! I'm selling
some clothes.

So,

we each have 3.
That's 6.

What about the seventh day?
I want ascending bowel cancer.

The girl
had done her homework.

Thank you.

No. No, I...

I want bowel cancer.

That's your favorite, too?

Try to slip it by me, eh?

Look, we're gonna
split it, OK?

Take the first and third
Sunday of the month.

Deal.

Looks like
this is good-bye.

Well, let's not make a
big thing out of it, OK?

How's this for not
making a big thing?

Hey, Marla!

Marla!

May-Maybe we should
exchange numbers.

Should we?

W- We might want
to switch nights.

OK.

This is how I met
Marla Singer.

Marla's philosophy of life

was that she might die
at any moment.

The tragedy, she said,
was that she didn't.

It doesn't have
your name.

Who are you,

Cornelius,
Rupert,

Travis,

any of the
stupid names

you give each
night?

You wake up
at Seatac.

S.F.O...

L.A.X...

You wake up at O'Hare...

Dallas-Fort Worth...

B.W.I...

Pacific, mountain,
central...

Lose an hour,
gain an hour...

Check-in for that
flight doesn't begin

for another 2 hours,
sir.

This is your life, and it's
ending one minute at a time.

You wake up at Air Harbor
International...

the aircraft has
come to a complete stop.

If you wake up
at a different time,

in a different place,

could you wake up
as a different person?

Everywhere I travel,

tiny life...

single-serving sugar...

single-serving cream...

single pat of butter...

a microwave cordon-bleu
hobby kit.

Shampoo-conditioner combos.

Sample package mouthwash,
tiny bars of soap.

The people I meet
on each flight,

they're single-serving
friends.

Between takeoff and landing,
we have our time together,

but that's all we get.

Welcome!

On
a long enough timeline,

the survival rate
for everyone drops to zero.

I was a recall coordinator.

My job was
to apply the formula.

Here's where
the infant

went through
the windshield.

3 points.

A new car
built by my company

leaves somewhere traveling
at 60 miles per hour.

The rear differential
locks up.

The teenager's braces

are wrapped around
the back seat ashtray.

Might make
a good antismoking ad.

The car crashes and burns

with everyone
trapped inside.

Now, should we
initiate a recall?

The father
must've been huge.

You see
where the fat

has burned
to the seat,

the polyester shirt?

- Very modern art.
- Ha ha ha!

Take the number of
vehicles in the field, "A,"

multiply it by the probable
rate of failure, "B,"

then multiply the result

by the average out-of-court
settlement, "C."

"A" times "B" times "C"

equals "X."

If "X" is less
than the cost of a recall,

we don't do one.

Are there a lot

of these kinds
of accidents?

You wouldn't believe.

Which car company
do you work for?

A major one.

Every time the plane
banked too sharply

on takeoff or landing,

I prayed for a crash

or a midair collision.

Anything.

Life insurance
pays off triple

if you die
on a business trip.

"If you are seated in an
emergency exit row... "

Yeah...

"And you feel
you would be unable

or unwilling to
perform the duties

listed on
the safety card,

please ask
a flight attendant

to reseat you. "

It's a lot
of responsibility.

Wanna switch seats?

No. I'm not sure
I'm the man

for that particular job.

An exit-door procedure
at 30,000 feet.

Mm-hmm.

The illusion of safety.

Yeah. I guess so.

You know why they put
oxygen masks on planes?

So you can breathe.

Oxygen gets you high.

In a catastrophic
emergency,

you're taking giant
panicked breaths.

Suddenly you become
euphoric, docile.

You accept your fate.

It's all right here.

Emergency
water landing...

600 miles an hour.

Blank faces,

calm as Hindu cows.

That's, um...

That's an interesting
theory.

What do you do?

What do you mean?

What do you do
for a living?

Why? So you can pretend
like you're interested?

OK.

You have a kind of
sick desperation

in your laugh.

We have
the exact same briefcase.

Soap.

Sorry?

I make
and I sell soap...

the yardstick
of civilization.

And this is
how I met...

"Tyler Durden. "

Did you know, if you
mixed equal parts

of gasoline and frozen
orange juice concentrate,

you can make napalm?

No, I did not know that.
Is that true?

That's right.

One can make all kinds
of explosives

using simple
household items.

Really?

If one were
so inclined.

Tyler, you are, by far,
the most interesting

"single-serving" friend
I've ever met.

See, obviously,

everything on a plane
is single-serving, even...

Oh, I get it.
It's very clever.

Thank you.

How's that working out
for you?

What?

Being clever.

Great.

Keep it up, then.

Right up.

Now a question
of etiquette.

As I pass,

do I give you the ass
or the crotch?

How I came
to live with Tyler is...

airlines have this policy
about vibrating luggage.

Was... Was it ticking?

Actually, throwers don't
worry about ticking,

'cause modern bombs
don't tick.

Sorry. "Throwers"?

Baggage handlers.

But when a suitcase
vibrates,

then the thrower's
gotta call the police.

My suitcase... was vibrating?

9 times out of 10,
it's an electric razor,

but every once
in a while...

it's a dildo.

Of course,
it's company policy

never to imply
ownership

in the event
of a dildo.

We have to use
the indefinite article

a dildo.

Never your dildo.

I don't own a...

I had everything
in that suitcase...

my CK shirts,

my DKNY shoes,

my AX ties.

Never mind.

Hey! That's my car!

Home was a condo
on the 15th floor

of a filing cabinet for widows
and young professionals.

The walls
were solid concrete.

A foot of concrete's
important

when your next-door neighbor
lets her hearing aid go

and has to watch game shows
at full volume...

Or when a volcanic blast

and debris that used to be your
furniture and personal effects

blows out of your
floor-to-ceiling windows

and sails flaming
into the night.

I suppose
these things happen.

There's nothing up there.

You can't go
into the unit.

Police orders.

Do you have somebody
you can call?

How embarrassing.

A house full of condiments
and no food.

The police would
later tell me

that the pilot light
might have gone out,

letting out just
a little bit of gas.

That gas could have
slowly filled the condo...

1,700 square feet
of high ceilings

for days and days.

Then the refrigerator's
compressor could've clicked on.

Yeah?

I can hear you
breathing, you...

If you asked me now,

I couldn't tell you
why I called him.

Hello?

Who's this?

Tyler?

Who is this?

Um, ahem, we met
on the airplane.

We had the same
suitcase.

Uh, the clever guy.

Oh, yeah. Right. OK?

I called
a second ago.

There was no answer.
I'm at a pay phone.

Yeah. I star-69ed you.

I never pick up my phone.

So, what's up, man?

Uh, well...

you're not gonna
believe this.

You know, man,
it could be worse.

A woman could
cut off your penis

while you're sleeping

and toss it
out the window

of a moving car.

There's always that.

I don't know,
it's just...

when you buy furniture,

you tell yourself,
that's it.

That's the last sofa
I'm gonna need.

Whatever else happens,

I've got that
sofa problem handled.

I had it all.

I had a stereo
that was very decent,

a wardrobe that was getting
very respectable.

I was close
to being complete.

Shit, man.
Now it's all gone.

All gone.

Hmm. All gone.

Do you know
what a duvet is?

Comforter.

It's a blanket.

Just a blanket.

Why do guys
like you and I

know what
a duvet is?

Is this essential
to our survival

in the hunter-gatherer
sense of the word?

No.

What are we, then?

We're, uh, you know,
consumers...

Right. We're consumers.

We are by-products of
a lifestyle obsession.

Murder, crime, poverty...

these things
don't concern me.

What concerns me are
celebrity magazines,

television
with 500 channels,

some guy's name
on my underwear.

Rogaine, Viagra,
Olestra.

Martha Stewart.

Fuck Martha Stewart.

Martha's polishing the brass
on the Titanic.

It's all going down, man.

So fuck off
with your sofa units

and Strinne green
stripe patterns.

I say,
never be complete.

I say,
stop being perfect.

I say, let's...
let's evolve.

Let the chips
fall where they may.

But that's me,
and I could be wrong.

Maybe it's a terrible
tragedy.

No. It's just stuff.

It's not a tragedy,
but...

Well, you did lose

a lot of versatile solutions
for modern living.

Fuck. You're right.

No. I don't smoke.

My insurance is probably
gonna cover it, so...

What?

The things you own
end up owning you.

But do what
you like, man.

Oh, it's late.

Hey, thanks
for the beer.

Yeah, man.

I should find
a hotel.

Oh.

What?

A hotel.

Yeah.

Just ask, man.

What are you
talking about?

Oh, God.

3 pitchers of beer,

and you still
can't ask.

What?

You called me 'cause you
needed a place to stay.

Oh, hey, no, no, no.

Yes, you did.
So just ask.

Cut the foreplay
and just ask, man.

Would that
be a problem?

Is it a problem
for you to ask?

Can I stay
at your place?

Yeah.

Thanks.

I want you
to do me a favor.

Yeah, sure.

I want you to hit me
as hard as you can.

What?

I want you to hit me
as hard as you can.

Let me tell you
a little bit

about Tyler Durden.

Tyler was a night person.

While the rest of us
were sleeping,

he worked.

He had one part-time job
as a projectionist.

See, a movie doesn't come
all on one big reel.

It comes on a few.

So someone has to be there
to switch the projectors

at the exact moment
that one reel ends

and the next one begins.

If you look for it,
you can see these little dots

come into the upper right-hand
corner of the screen.

In the industry,

we call them
"cigarette burns. "

That's the cue
for a changeover.

He flips the projectors,

the movie keeps
right on going,

and nobody in the audience
has any idea.

Why would anyone want
this shit job?

Because it affords him other
interesting opportunities.

Like splicing single frames
of pornography

into family films.

So when the snooty cat
and the courageous dog

with the celebrity voices

meet for the first time
in reel 3,

that's when you'll
catch a flash

of Tyler's contribution
to the film.

Nobody knows
that they saw it,

but they did.

A nice big cock.

Even a hummingbird couldn't
catch Tyler at work.

Tyler also works sometimes
as a banquet waiter

at the luxurious
Pressman Hotel.

He was the guerilla
terrorist

of the food service
industry.

Do not watch.

I cannot go
when you watch.

Apart from seasoning
the lobster bisque,

he farted on meringues,

sneezed
on braised endive.

And as for the cream
of mushroom soup,

well...

Go ahead, tell them.

You get the idea.

What do you want me to do?
You just want me to hit you?

Come on. Do me
this one favor.

Why?

Why? I don't know why.
I don't know.

I've never been in a fight.
Have you?

No, but that's
a good thing.

No, it is not.

How much can you
know about yourself

if you've never
been in a fight?

I don't wanna die
without any scars.

So, come on, hit me
before I lose my nerve.

God, this is crazy.

So go crazy.
Let 'er rip.

Hey, I don't know
about this.

I don't, either,
but who gives a shit?

No one's watching.
What do you care?

Wait. This is crazy.
You want me to hit you?

That's right.

What, like,
in the face?

Surprise me.

This is so
fucking stupid.

Ohh!

Motherfucker!

You hit me
in the ear.

Well, Jesus,
I'm sorry.

Ow! Christ!

Why the ear, man?

Aw, I fucked it up.

No. That was perfect.

Ohh! Uhh!

Nah, it's all right.

That really hurts.

Right.

Hit me again.

No. You hit me.

Come on.

We should do this
again sometime.

Where's your car?

What car?

I don't know how
Tyler found that house,

but he said
he'd been there for a year.

It looked like it was
waiting to be torn down.

Most of the windows
were boarded up.

There was no lock
on the front door

from when the police
or whoever kicked it in.

The stairs
were ready to collapse.

I didn't know if he owned it
or if he was squatting.

Neither would have
surprised me.

Yeah. That's you.

That's me.

That's the toilet.

Good?

Yeah. Thanks.

What a shithole.

Nothing worked.

Turning on one light

meant another light
in the house went out.

There were no neighbors,

just some warehouses
and a paper mill...

that fart smell of steam,

the hamster cage smell
of wood chips.

After work tomorrow,
we'll be...

Hey. What have
we here?

Hey, guys.

Hey.

It's cool.

Ohh!

Every time it rained,
we had to kill the power.

By the end
of the first month,

I didn't miss TV.

I didn't even mind the warm,
stale refrigerator.

Can I be next?

All right, man.

Lose the tie.

Ooh!

At night,
Tyler and I were alone

for a half a mile
in every direction.

Rain trickled down
through the plaster

and the light fixtures.

Everything wooden
swelled and shrank.

Everywhere were rusted nails
to snag your elbow on.

The previous occupant had been
a bit of a shut-in.

Hey, man, what
are you reading?

Listen to this.

It's an article
written by an organ

in the first person.

"I am Jack's
medulla oblongata.

Without me, Jack
could not regulate

his heart rate,
blood pressure, or breathing. "

There's a whole series
of these.

"I am Jill's nipples. "

"I am Jack's colon. "

Yeah. "I get cancer.
I kill Jack. "

Whoa... Ohh!

After fighting,

everything else in your life
got the volume turned down.

What?

You could deal
with anything.

Have you finished
those reports?

If you could
fight anyone,

who would you fight?

I'd fight my boss,
probably.

Really?

Yeah. Why, who would
you fight?

I'd fight my dad.

I don't know my dad.

I mean, I know him,

but he left when I was,
like, 6 years old,

married this other woman
and had some other kids.

He, like, did this
every 6 years.

He goes to a new city
and starts a new family.

Fucker should open up
franchises.

My dad never
went to college,

so it was real
important that I go.

That sounds familiar.

So I graduate, I call
him up long distance.

I say, "Dad, now what?"
He says, "Get a job. "

Same here.

Now I'm 25.

I make
my yearly call again.

I say, "Dad, now what?"

He says, "I don't know.
Get married. "

Eh, I mean...

I can't get married.

I'm a 30-year-old boy.

We're a generation
of men

raised by women.

I'm wondering
if another woman

is really
the answer we need.

Most of the week,
we were Ozzie and Harriet.

But every Saturday night,

we were finding
something out.

We were finding out
more and more

that we were not alone.

Who turned
the lights off?

It used to be

that when I came home
angry or depressed,

I'd just clean my condo,

polish
my Scandinavian furniture.

I should've been looking
for a new condo.

I should've been haggling
with my insurance company.

I should've been upset about my
nice, neat flaming little shit.

But I wasn't.

The basic premise

of cyber-netting
any office

is make things
more efficient.

Monday mornings,
all I could do

was think about
next week.

Can I get the icon
in cornflower blue?

Absolutely.

Efficiency is priority
number one, people,

because waste
is a thief.

I showed this already
to my man, here.

You liked it,
didn't you?

You can swallow
a pint of blood

before you get sick.

It was right
in everyone's face.

Tyler and I
just made it visible.

It was on the tip
of everyone's tongue.

Tyler and I just
gave it a name.

Come on, people,
you gotta go home.

Turn off the jukebox.
Lock the back.

Every week,
Tyler gave the rules

that he and I decided.

Gentlemen, welcome
to Fight Club.

The first rule
of Fight Club is...

you do not talk
about Fight Club.

The second rule
of Fight Club is...

you do not talk
about Fight Club.

Third rule of Fight Club...

Someone yells "Stop!"
goes limp, taps out,

the fight is over.

Fourth rule...

Only 2 guys to a fight.

Fifth rule...

One fight at a time,
fellas.

Sixth rule...
No shirts, no shoes.

Seventh rule...

Fights will go on
as long as they have to.

And the eighth
and final rule...

If this is your first night
at Fight Club...

you have to fight.

This kid from work,
Ricky,

couldn't remember
whether you ordered pens

with blue ink or black...

Come on, man!

But Ricky was a god
for 10 minutes

when the trounced the maitre d'
of a local food court.

Sometimes,
all you could hear

were the flat, hard
packing sounds

over the yelling...

or the wet choke when
someone caught their breath

and sprayed...

Stop!

You weren't alive anywhere
like you were there.

But Fight Club
only exists

in the hours between
when Fight Club starts

and when Fight Club ends.

Even if I could tell someone
they had a good fight,

I wouldn't be talking
to the same man.

Who you were
in Fight Club

is not who you were
in the rest of the world.

The guy who came to Fight Club
for the first time,

his ass
was a wad of cookie dough.

After a few weeks,

he was carved
out of wood.

If you could fight
any celebrity,

who would you fight?

Alive or dead?

It doesn't matter.
Who'd be tough?

Hemingway.

You?

Shatner.

I'd fight
William Shatner.

We all started
seeing things differently.

Everywhere we went,

we were sizing things up.

I felt sorry for guys
packed into gyms,

trying to look like
how Calvin Klein

or Tommy Hilfiger
said they should.

Is that what a man
looks like?

Ahh. Self-improvement
is masturbation.

And self-destruction.

Excuse me.

Kick his ass!

Hit him again, man!
Come on! Hit him!

Fight Club wasn't about
winning or losing.

It wasn't about words.

The hysterical shouting
was in tongues,

like in
a Pentecostal church.

- Is that it?
- Stop!

When the fight
was over,

nothing was solved,

but nothing mattered.

Hey, cool.

Afterwards,
we all felt saved.

Hey, man, how
about next week?

How about next month?

I hear you.

Irwin, you're
in the middle.

New guy. You, too.

Sometimes,
Tyler spoke for me.

He fell down
some stairs.

I fell down
some stairs.

Fight Club became the reason
to cut your hair short

or trim your fingernails.

OK. Any
historical figure.

I'd fight Gandhi.

Good answer.

How about you?

Lincoln.

Lincoln?

Mm.

Big guy, big reach.

Skinny guys fight
till they're burger.

Fuck.

Hey. Even the Mona Lisa's
falling apart.

Hello.

Where have
you been

the last 8 weeks?

Marla?

How'd you find me?

You left that
forwarding number.

I haven't seen you
in any support groups.

We split them up.

That was the idea,
remember?

Yeah, but you haven't
been going to yours.

How do you know?

I cheated.

I found a new one.

Really?

It's for men only.

Like the testicle thing?

Waaah!

Look, this is a bad time.

I've been going
to Debtors Anonymous.

You wanna see some
really fucked up people?

I'm just on my way out.

Me, too.

I've got a stomachful
of Xanax.

I took what was left
of a bottle.

It might have been
too much.

Just picture
watching Marla Singer

throw herself around
her crummy apartment.

But this isn't a
for-real suicide thing.

This is probably one of
those cry-for-help things.

This could
go on for hours.

So you're staying in
tonight, then?

Do you wanna wait

and hear me
describe death?

Do you wanna listen

and see if my spirit
can use a phone?

Have you ever heard
a death rattle before?

Tyler's door was closed.

I'd been living here
for 2 months,

and Tyler's door
was never closed.

You won't believe this dream
I had last night.

Yeah, I can hardly believe
anything about last night.

What... What are you
doing here?

What?

This is my house. What are
you doing in my house?

Fuck you.

Ha ha! Ohh...

Oh, you got some fucked-up
friends, I'm tellin' you.

Limber, though...

silly coos.

So, I come in last night.
Phone's off the hook.

Guess who's
on the other end.

I already knew the story
before he told it to me.

Have you ever heard
a death rattle before?

Do you think it'll
live up to its name?

Or will it just be
a death... hairball?

Prepare...
to evacuate soul.

9...

8...

Now, how could Tyler,
of all people,

think it was a bad thing that
Marla Singer was about to die?

5...

4...

3... Oh, hang on.

You got here fast.

Did I call you?

Huh?

Hey.

The mattress is all sealed
in slippery plastic.

Oh, don't worry.
It's not a threat to you.

Oh, fuck.

Somebody called the cops.

Hey, where's 513?

End of the hall.

You know, the girl
who lives there

used to be a charming,
lovely girl.

She's lost faith
in herself.

Miss Singer!

She's a monster.

You have every
reason to live!

She's infectious
human waste!

Miss Singer!

Good luck
trying to save her!

If I fall asleep,
I'm done for.

You're gonna have to
keep me up...

all... night.

Un-fucking-believable.

He was obviously
able to handle it.

You know what I mean.
You fucked her.

No, I didn't.

Never?

No.

You're not into her,
are you?

No! God, not at all.

I am Jack's
raging bile duct.

Are you sure?
You can tell me.

Believe me, I'm sure.

Put a gun
to my head

and paint the walls
with my brains.

That's good,
'cause she's a predator

posing
as a house pet.

Stay away
from that one.

And the shit that came out
of this woman's mouth

I ain't never heard.

My God.

I haven't been fucked
like that since grade school.

Uhh!

How could
Tyler not go for that?

The night before last,
he was splicing

sex organs
into Cinderella.

Marla doesn't
need a lover.

She needs
a fucking case worker.

She needs a wash. And she's
in love with sport fuckin'.

She invaded
my support groups.

Now she'd invaded my home.

Hey, hey.
Sit down.

Now, listen. Can't have you
talking to her about me.

Why would I talk
to her...

You say anything about me
or what goes on in this house

to her or to anybody,
we're done.

Now, promise me.

OK.

You promise?

- Yeah, I promise.
- Promise.

I just said
I promise.

That's 3 times
you promised.

If only I had wasted
a couple of minutes

and gone to watch
Marla Singer die,

none of this
would've happened.

Unhh!
Unhh! Unhh!

Unhh!

Yeah! Oh!
Harder! Harder!

Yeah! Ooh! Aah!

Aah! Ohh! Aah!

I could've moved
to another room...

on the third floor, where
I might not have heard them.

Oh, baby!

But I didn't.

Ohh!

Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!

Ohh! Ohh! Aaahh!

Aah! Aah! Aah!

- Aah! Ohhh! Ohh!
- Ow!

Ohh!

What are you doin'?

Just goin' to bed.

Want to
finish her off?

Uhh... oh!

No.

No, thank you.

I found
the cigarettes.

Who are you
talking to?

Shut up.

I became the calm little
center of the world.

I was the Zen master.

Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!

I wrote little haiku poems.

I e-mailed them to everyone.

Is that your blood?

Some of it, yeah.

You can't smoke
in here.

Take the rest
of the day off.

Come back Monday
with some clean clothes.

Get yourself together.

I got right in
everyone's hostile little face.

Yes, these are bruises
from fighting.

Yes, I'm comfortable with that.

I... am enlightened.

You give up
the condo life...

give up all your
flaming worldly possessions...

go live
in a dilapidated house

in a toxic waste
part of town...

and you have to
come home to this.

Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!

Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!

Hello?

Yes. This is
Detective Stern

with the Arson Unit.

We have
some new information

about the incident
at your former condo.

Yes?

I don't know
if you're aware,

but it seems that
someone sprayed freon

into your front door
lock,

then tapped it with a chisel
to shatter the cylinder.

No, I wasn't aware
of that at all.

I am Jack's cold sweat.

Does this sound
strange to you?

Uh, yes, sir.
Strange. Very strange.

The dynamite...

Dynamite?

left a residue

of ammonium oxylate
potassium chloride.

Do you know
what this means?

No. What
does it mean?

It means it was
homemade.

I'm sorry.
This is just coming

as quite a shock
to me, sir.

See, whoever set
this homemade dynamite

could've blown out
your pilot light

days before
the actual explosion.

The gas was
just the detonator.

Who would go and do
such a thing?

I'll ask the questions.

Tell him.
Tell him the liberator

who destroyed my property
has realigned my perception.

Excuse me.
Are you there?

No, I am listening.
It's a little hard to know

what to make
of all this.

Have you recently made
enemies with anyone

who might have access
to homemade dynamite?

- Enemies?
- Reject the basic

assumption of civilization,

especially the importance
of material possessions.

Son, this is serious.

Yes, I know
it's serious.

I mean that.

Yes,
it's very serious.

Look, nobody takes this
more seriously than me.

That condo was my life.

OK? I loved every stick
of furniture in that place.

That was not just
a bunch of stuff

that got destroyed.

It was me!

I'd like
to thank the Academy.

Is this not
a good time for you?

Just tell him
you fuckin' did it.

Shhh!

Tell him you
blew it all up.

That's what
he wants to hear.

Are you still there?

Wait. Are you saying
that I'm a suspect?

No, no. I may need to talk
to you a little further,

so how about you just lettin' me
know if you're gonna leave town?

OK?

OK.

Except
for their humping,

Tyler and Marla were
never in the same room.

My parents pulled this
exact same act for years.

The condom is the glass slipper
of our generation.

You slip one on
when you meet a stranger.

You... dance
all night.

Then you
throw it away.

The condom, I mean.
Not the stranger.

What?

I got this dress
at a thrift store for $1.00.

It was worth
every penny.

It's a bridesmaid's dress.

Someone loved it...
intensely

for one day...

then tossed it.

Like a Christmas tree...

so special...

then... bam...

it's on the side
of the road...

tinsel still
clinging to it...

like a sex crime victim...

underwear inside out...

bound with electrical tape.

Well, then it suits you.

You can borrow it
sometime.

Get rid of her.

Why can't you
get rid of her?

Don't mention me.

I'm 6 years old again,

passing messages
between parents.

I really think it's time
you got out of here.

Don't worry.
I'm leaving.

Not that we don't love
your little visits.

You are such
a nut case.

I can't even begin
to keep up.

Gotta get off

Thanks. Bye.

Gotta get off
this merry-go-round

Gotta get on where

You kids.

Wh... Why do you still
waste time with her?

I'll say this
about Marla...

at least she's tryin'
to hit bottom.

What, and I'm not?

Stickin' feathers
up your butt

does not make you
a chicken.

What are we doin' tonight?

- Tonight?
- Yeah.

We make soap.

Really.

To make soap,
first we render fat.

The salt balance
has to be just right,

so the best fat for making
soap comes from humans.

Wait.
What is this place?

A liposuction clinic.

Aha! Pay dirt.

The richest, creamiest fat
in the world.

Fat of the land.

Come on.

Oh, God! Oh!

Get another one.
Unhh!

As the fat renders, the tallows
float to the surface.

Like in Boy Scouts.

I can imagine you
as a Boy Scout.

Keep stirrin'.

Once the tallow hardens,

we skim off
a layer of glycerin.

If you were to add nitric
acid, you got nitroglycerin.

If you were then to add
sodium nitrate

and a dash of sawdust,
you got dynamite.

Yeah, with enough soap,

we could blow up
just about anything.

Tyler was full
of useful information.

Now, ancient peoples found
that clothes got cleaner

when they washed them at a
certain point in the river.

- You know why?
- No.

Human sacrifices
were once made

on the hills
above this river.

Bodies burned. Water seeped
into the wood and ashes

to create lye.

This is lye,
the crucial ingredient.

Once it mixed with the
melted fat of bodies,

a thick, white,
soapy discharge

crept into the river.
May I see your hand, please?

What is this?

This... is chemical burn.

Uh... Aah! Aah!

It'll hurt more than
you've ever been burned,

and you will have
a scar.

If meditation worked for
cancer, it could work for this.

Stay with the pain.
Don't shove to center.

No, no! Oh, God!

Look at your hand.

The first soap was made
from the ashes of heroes,

like the first monkey
shot into space.

Without pain,
without sacrifice,

we would have nothin'.

I tried not to think of the
the words "sear" or "flesh. "

Stop it!
This is your pain.

This is your burning
hand. It's right here.

I'm going to my cave.

I'm going to my cave
and find my power animal.

No! Don't deal with it the way
those dead people do!

Come on!

I get the point!
OK! Please!

No. What you're feeling
is premature enlightenment.

This is the greatest moment
of your life, man,

and you're off
somewhere...

Shut up.

Our fathers were
our models for God.

If our fathers bailed,

what does that
tell you about God?

No, no.

Listen to me.

You have to consider
the possibility

that God
does not like you,

He never wanted you.

In all probability,
He hates you.

This is not the worst thing
that can happen.

We don't need Him.

We don't! I agree!

Fuck damnation, man.
Fuck redemption.

We are God's
unwanted children?

So be it!

Listen! You can run
water over your hand

to make it worse, or...
look at me...

or you can use vinegar
to neutralize the burn.

Please let me have
some! Please!

First you have to
give up.

First you have to know,
not fear,

know that someday
you're gonna die.

You don't know
how this feels!

It's only after
we've lost everything

that we're free
to do anything.

OK.

Congratulations.

You're one step closer
to hitting bottom.

Tyler sold his soap
to department stores

at $20 a bar.

God knows
what they charged.

This is
the best soap.

Why, thank you,
Suzie.

It was beautiful.

We were selling rich women

their own fat asses
back to them.

He was wearing
his yellow tie.

I didn't even wear a tie
to work anymore.

"The first rule
of Fight Club

is you don't talk
about Fight Club"?

I'm half asleep again.

I must've left the original
in the copy machine.

"The second rule of Fight Club... "
Is this yours?

Huh?

Pretend you're me.

Make a managerial
decision.

You find this.
What would you do?

Well, I gotta tell ya...

I'd be very, very careful
who you talk to about that.

Because the person
who wrote that...

is dangerous.

And this buttoned-down,
oxford-cloth psycho

might just snap

and then stalk
from office to office

with an Armilade AR-10
carbine gas-powered

semi-automatic weapon,

pumping round
after round

into colleagues
and coworkers.

This might be someone
you've known for years...

someone very...
very... close to you.

Tyler's words
coming out of my mouth.

And I used to be
such a nice guy.

Maybe you shouldn't bring me
every little piece of trash

you happen to pick up.

Liability.

My tit's gonna rot off.

Will you excuse me?
I need to take this.

What're you talking about?

I need you to check and see
if there's a lump in my breast.

Go to a hospital.

I can't afford to throw money
away on a doctor.

I don't know
about this, Marla.

Please?

She didn't
call Tyler.

I'm neutral in her book.

That's nice.

Taking food
to Mrs...

Hannaburr,
Mrs. Raines?

Who are they...
exactly?

Tragically,
they're dead.

I'm alive,
and I'm in poverty.

You want any?

No. No.

I got one for you.

Thanks for the thought.

What happened
to your hand?

Uh... nothin'.

Right there.

Uhh.

Feel anything?

No.

Well, make sure.

OK, I'm...
I'm pretty sure.

You feel nothing.

No. Nothing.

Well, that's a relief.

Thank you.

Uh, um...
no problem.

I wish I could
return the favor.

There's not a lot of breast cancer
in the men in my family.

Could check
your prostate.

I think I'm OK.

Well, thanks, anyway.

Are we done?

Yeah, we're done.
See you... around.

Cornelius?

Cornelius!

It's me...

Bob!

Hey... Bob.

Hey. Uhh!

We all thought
you were dead.

No, no. Still here.

How are you, Bob?

Better than I've ever been
in my whole life.

Really. You still
remaining men together?

No, no. I got somethin'
so much better now.

Really.
What is it?

Well...

first rule is...

I'm not supposed
to talk about it.

And the second rule is,

I'm not supposed
to talk about it.

And the third
rule is...

Bob. Bob.
I'm a member.

Look at my face, Bob.

That's fuckin'...
That's fuckin' great.

I've... I've
never seen you there.

I go Tuesdays
and Thursdays.

I go Saturday.

Congratulations.

Yeah. Hey,
to both of us, right?

Have you heard about the guy
that invented this thing?

Well, uh,
yeah, actually. I...

I hear all kinds
of things.

Supposedly... he was born
in a mental institution.

And he sleeps only
one hour a night.

He's a great man.

Oh...

Do you know
about Tyler Durden?

Ha ha ha!

Take him down!

I didn't hurt you,
did I?

Actually, you did.

Thank you for this.

Thank you, thank you,
thank you.

Fight Club.

Bob. Bob. Bob. Bob.

This was mine
and Tyler's gift...

our gift to the world.

Look around. Look around.

I see a lot
of new faces.

- Ha ha!
- Ha ha!

Shut up!

Which means a lot of you

have been breaking
the first 2 rules of Fight Club.

Man, I see in Fight Club

the strongest and smartest
men who've ever lived.

I see all this
potential.

And I see squandering.

God damn it.

An entire generation
pumping gas...

waiting tables...

slaves with white collars.

Advertising has its taste
in cars and clothes...

working jobs we hate so we can
buy shit we don't need.

We're the middle children
of history, man.

No purpose or place.

We have no Great War...
no Great Depression.

Our Great War's
a spiritual war.

Our Great Depression
is our lives.

We've all been raised
on television

to believe that one day
we'd all be millionaires

and movie gods
and rock stars.

But we won't.

We're slowly learning
that fact.

And we're very,
very pissed off.

- Yeah!
- Yeah!

First rule of Fight Club is
you do not talk about...

Who are you?

Who am I?

Yeah.

There's a sign
in the front

that says
"Lou's Tavern. "

I'm fuckin' Lou.

Who the fuck are you?

Tyler Durden.

Who told you motherfuckers
that you could use my place?

We have a deal
worked out with Irvin.

Irvin?

Irvin's at home with
a broken collarbone.

He don't own
this place.

I do.

How much money is he
gettin' for this?

There is no money.

- Really. Ain't that somethin'?
- Free to all.

It is, actually.

Look, stupid fuck...

I want everybody
outta here right now.

Hey. You should
join our club.

Did you hear
what I just said?

You and your friend.

Oomp!

Uhh!

You hear me now?!

No, I didn't quite
catch that, Lou.

Ooh!

Pfft!

Ohhh...

Still not gettin' it.

Aah! OK, OK, OK.
I got it.

I got it. I got it.
Shit, I lost it.

Ooh!

Back! All of you!

Everybody back.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Ha ha ha ha ha!

Aw, Lou...

Come on, man.

We really like
this place.

Ohh!

Ohhh...

- That's right, Lou, get it...
- Shut the fuck up!

Oh, yeah!

Yeah! Ha ha ha ha ha!

Ho ho ho ha ha ha!

Think that's
fuckin' funny?!

Ho ho, ho!
Ha ha ha ha!

Ha ha ha ha...
Ohh! Ho ho ho!

Fuckin' guys are loony,
I'm tellin' ya.

Unbelievable. Aah!

You don't know
where I've been, Lou.

- Oh, my God!
- Ha ha ha!

You don't know where
I've been! Ha ha!

Ha ha ha ha ha!

Lou! Please let us
keep it, Lou!

Please, Lou!

Fuckin' use the basement!
Christ!

I want your word, Lou!
I want your word!

On my mother's honor.

Uhh!

Lou!

Aaahhh!

Thanks, Lou.

You, too, big guy.

See you next week.

This week...
each one of you...

has a homework
assignment.

You're gonna go out.

You're gonna start a fight
with a total stranger.

You're gonna
start a fight.

And you're
gonna lose.

Excellent choice,
sir.

Hey! Watch out,
jackass!

Come on!

Now, this is not
as easy as it sounds.

I'm thinkin'
you really... What?!

Son of a bitch!

Most people...
normal people...

do just about anything
to avoid a fight.

Excuse me.
You sprayed me with your hose.

Like that?

That's not necessary.

Dave!
Go call 911!

Aaaahhh!

Stop it!

Sorry.

What did...
Come here!

Leave me alone!
You crazy?

Uhh!

Unhh! Uhh!

Bastard!

We need to talk.

OK.

Where to begin?

With your constant
absenteeism?

With your unpresentable
appearance?

You're up for review.

I am Jack's...
complete lack of surprise.

What?

Let's pretend.

You're the Department
of Transportation.

OK?

Someone informs you
that this company

installs front seat
mounting brackets

that never pass
collision tests...

brake linings that fail
after a thousand miles,

and fuel injectors
that explode

and burn people alive.

What then?

Are you threatening me?

No...

Get the fuck outta here.
You're fired.

I have a better solution.

You keep me on the payroll
as an outside consultant.

And in exchange
for my salary,

my job will be never
to tell people

these things
that I know.

I don't even have to come
into the office.

I can do this job
from home.

Who... Who the fuck
do you think you are,

you crazy little shit?

Security?

I am
Jack's smirking revenge.

Ohh!

Ohh!

Ahh... ahh...

What the hell
are you doing?

Ohh... that hurt.

Why would you do that?

Oh, my God.

No! Please stop!

Uhh! Uh... uhh!

What are you doing?

Oh, God, no! Please! No!

For some reason,
I thought of my first fight

with Tyler.

No!

Under and behind
and inside,

everything this man
took for granted...

something horrible
had been growing.

Now, look.

Give me the paychecks
like I asked,

and you won't
ever see me again.

And right then, at our most
excellent moment together...

Oh... thank God.

Please don't hit me
again. Please...

Telephone, computer,
fax machine,

52 weekly paychecks, and
48 airline flight coupons.

We now had
corporate sponsorship.

This is how Tyler and I were
able to have Fight Club

every night of the week.

Now nobody was the center
of Fight Club

except the 2 men fighting.

The leader walked through the crowd,
out in the darkness.

Tyler was now involved
in a class-action lawsuit

with the Pressman Hotel over
the urine content of their soup.

I am Jack's wasted life.

Yeah! Yeah! Ha ha!
Yeah!

There you are, sir.

Tyler dreamed up
new homework assignments.

He handed them out
in sealed envelopes.

Did you know
there's a Fight Club

up in Delaware City?

Yeah, I heard.

There's one
in Penn's Grove, too.

Bob even found one
up in Newcastle.

Yeah. Did you start
that one?

No. I thought you did.

Nah.

Pff!

Stop for a second.

Hey, what are we doing?

Turn around.

What are we doing?

Homework assignment.

What kind of
homework assignment?

Human sacrifice.

Hey, is that a gun?

Please. Please tell me
that's not a gun.

It's a gun.

What are you doing?

Meet me in the back.

Hey, don't fuck around.

Meet me in the back.

On a long enough
time line,

the survival rate
for everyone drops to zero.

What are you doing?
Come on.

Hands behind your back.

God.

Give me your wallet.

Raymond K. Hessel,

1320 Southeast Banning,
apartment A.

Small, cramped basement
apartment, Raymond?

How did you know?

Because they give
shitty basement apartments

letters instead of numbers.

Raymond...

you're going to die.

Oh, my God, no...

Is that your mom and dad?

Mom and dad are going
to have to call up

kindly Dr. So-And-So

to pick up
your dental records.

You want to know why?

Because there's going to be
nothing left of your face.

Aw, come on.

An expired community college
student I.D.

What'd you study, Raymond?

S- S-S-Stuff.

Stuff?

Were the midterms hard?

I asked you
what you studied.

Biology, mostly.

Why?

I... I don't know.

What did you want to be,
Raymond K. Hessel?

The question, Raymond,

was what did you
want to be?

Answer him,
Raymond! Jesus!

Veterinarian!
Veterinarian!

Animals.

Yeah, animal s-s-s...

Stuff.
Yeah, I got that.

That means you have to
get more schooling.

Too much school.

Would you rather be dead?

No...

Would you
rather die, here,

on your knees,

in the back
of a convenience store?

No... No, please...

no...

I'm keeping your license.

Gonna check in on you.

I know where you live.

If you're not on your way
to becoming a veterinarian

in 6 weeks,
you will be dead.

Now run on home.

Run, Forrest, run!

I feel ill.

Imagine how he feels.

Come on,
this isn't funny!

That wasn't funny.

What the fuck
was the point of that?

Tomorrow will be
the most beautiful day

of Raymond K. Hessel's life.

His breakfast
will taste better

than any meal you and I
have ever tasted.

You had to
give it to him.

Come on.

He had a plan.

And it started
to make sense

in a Tyler sort of way.

No fear.

No distractions.

The ability to let
that which does not matter

truly slide.

You're not your job.

You're not how much money
you have in the bank.

You're not
the car you drive.

You're not the contents
of your wallet.

You're not
your fuckin' khakis.

You're the all-singing,
all-dancing crap of the world.

I'll be out of your way
in a sec.

You don't have to go.

Whatever.

No, I mean, uh...

It's OK.

Are you still going
to groups?

Yeah.

Chloe's dead.

Ah, Chloe.

When did that happen?

Do you care?

I don't know.

I haven't thought
about it in a while.

Yeah, well...

I think it was
a smart move on her part.

Hey, listen, uh...

what are you getting
out of all this?

What?

I mean, all this.

Why do you keep...

Is this
making you happy?

Yeah, well, sometimes.

I don't know.
I don't understand.

Why does
a weaker person

need to latch on to
a strong person?

What is that?

Well, what do you
get out of it?

No... It's... It's not
the same thing at all.

I mean, we're... It's
totally different with us.

We're... We're...

Us?

What do you mean by "us"?

I'm sorry,
do you hear this?

Hear what?

You're not hearing
all that noise?

Just... Hold on a second.

No, wait.
What were you saying?

Don't change the subject.
I want to talk about this.

You're not talking
about me, are you?

No. What?

That day you came over
to my place to play doctor...

what was going on there?

What are you
talking about?

Nothing. Nothing.

I don't think so.

Come on,
what do you want?

- Look at me.
- No. What?

Look at me.

What is that?

It's nothing.
Don't worry about it.

Oh, my God.

Who did this?

A person.

Guy or girl?

What do you care
if it's a guy or a girl?

What do you care
if I ask?

This is none of your
business. Leave me alone.

You're afraid to say it.

I am not afraid to say.
Let me go.

No! Talk to me.

- No!
- Let go of me. Leave me alone.

This conversation...

is over.

I just can't win
with you, can I?

Hey, this is getting
a little old.

What is... What is all this?

What do you think?

Hey, why do we need
bunk beds?

Hey.

Too young.

Sorry.

What's all that?

If the applicant is young,
tell him he's too young.

Old, too old.
Fat, too fat.

Applicant?

If the applicant
then waits for 3 days

without food, shelter
or encouragement,

he may then enter
and begin his training.

Training for what?

You think
this is a game?

You're too young
to train here.

End of story.
Quit wasting our time.

Get the fuck
out of here.

Bad news, friend.

It's not gonna happen.

I'm sorry if there was
a misunderstanding.

It's not the end
of the world.

Just go away.

Go.

You're trespassing,

and I will have to
call the police.

Don't you look at me.

Do you think you're
ever getting in this house?

You're never getting in
this fucking house.

Never. Now get the fuck
off the porch.

Get off the porch!

Sooner or later,

we all became what Tyler
wanted us to be.

I'm gonna go inside and
I'm gonna get a shovel.

You got 2 black shirts?

Sir.

2 pair of black pants?

Yes, sir.

One pair of black boots?

Sir.

2 pair of black socks?

Sir.

One black jacket?

Sir.

$300 personal burial money?

Yes, sir.

All right.

You're too old,
fat man.

Your tits
are too big.

Get the fuck
off my porch.

Bob. Bob.

Like a monkey

ready to be shot
into space.

Space monkey.

Ready to sacrifice himself
for the greater good.

You are too
fucking old, fatty!

And you.

You're too fucking...

blond!

Get out of here,
the both of you!

And so it went.

Listen up, maggots.

You are not special.

You are not
a beautiful or unique snowflake.

You are the same
decaying organic matter

as everything else.

Tyler
built himself an army.

We are the all-singing,
all-dancing crap of the world.

We are all part of
the same compost heap.

Why was Tyler Durden
building an army?

To what purpose?

For what greater good?

In Tyler we trusted.

No, when he was like, "You are
not your job," I was like...

Yeah!

Hey, what's all this?

OK!

Go on in
and celebrate.

What are we celebrating?

Go on.

Hey.

Let me get that
for you.

Investigators are
on the scene right now.

Hold on. Police Commissioner
Jacobs has just arrived.

Commissioner, Commissioner,
could you please tell us

what you think
has happened here?

We believe
this is one of many

recent acts of vandalism
around the city

somehow related to
underground boxing clubs.

We'll be coordinating
a rigorous investigation.

That was Police Commissioner
Jacobs, who just arrived

on the scene here
of a 4-alarm fire

that broke out
about an hour ago.

She's hot.

Live from the Parker
Morris Building,

Lauren Sanchez.
Back to you in the studio.

Yeah!

- Ha ha ha ha!
- Yeah.

Holy shit.

Yeah!

- Yeah!
- Ha ha ha!

Hoo hoo hoo!

What the fuck
did you guys do?

...how the blaze started,

but arson investigators
are on the premises...

Sir, the first rule
of Project Mayhem

is you do not
ask questions, sir.

The victory
in the war against crime

will not come overnight.

It will take dedication
and commitment,

and most of all,
cooperation.

The streets are safer now.

There is hope
in the inner city.

However, this is only
the beginning.

I gotta take a piss.

These are the first steps

in a long journey.

That is why we have
created Project Hope...

Bob.

"Helping others with
prevention and enforcement. "

Project Hope will be
a joint effort

between the police
and community leaders.

It will be
a powerful new weapon

in the war against crime.

Haahhhh!

Wrap it around the top of
his hacky sack, Bob.

Yeah. His balls
are ice cold.

Hi.

You're gonna call off
your rigorous investigation.

You're gonna publicly state

that there is no
underground group, or...

these guys are gonna
take your balls.

They're gonna send one
to the New York Times,

one to the L.A. Times
press release style.

Look...

the people you are after

are the people
you depend on.

We cook your meals.
We haul your trash.

We connect your calls.

We drive your ambulances.

We guard you
while you sleep.

Do not fuck with us.

Fooled ya.

Bob, you're on this one.

Let's go.

I am Jack's
inflamed sense of rejection.

Hey!

Yeah!

I felt like putting
a bullet between the eyes

of every panda that wouldn't
screw to save its species.

I wanted to open
the dump valves

on oil tankers and smother
all those French beaches

I'd never see.

I wanted to breathe smoke.

Where'd you go,
psycho boy?

I felt like destroying
something beautiful.

Get him to
a fuckin' hospital.

Yeah.

Don't worry, Mr. Durden.

Airport parking,
long term.

After you, Mr. Durden.

After you.

Something on your mind,
dear?

No.

All right, yeah.

Why wasn't I told
about Project Mayhem?

First rule of Project Mayhem

is you do not ask questions.

What are you talking about?

Why didn't you include me
in the beginning?

Fight Club
was the beginning.

Now it's moved
out of the basement,

it's called
Project Mayhem.

You and I started
Fight Club together.

Do you remember that?

It's as much mine
as it is yours, you know.

Is this about
you and me?

Yeah. I thought we were
doing this together.

You're missing the point.

This does not
belong to us.

We are not special.

Fuck that.
You should've told me.

Hey, Tyler!

Goddamn it, Tyler!

What do you want?!
Statement of purpose?

Should I e-mail you?

Should I put this
on your action item list?

You decide your own
level of involvement!

I will! I want to know
certain things first.

The first rule
of Project Mayhem...

Shut up!

I want to know
what you're thinking.

Fuck what you know.

You need to forget
about what you know.

That's your problem.

Forget about what
you think you know

about life,
about friendship,

and especially
about you and me.

What?

What is that supposed
to mean? What...

What are you doing?

Guys, what do you wish
you'd done before you die?

Paint a self-portrait.

Build a house.

And you?

I don't know.
Get in the right lane.

I have to know the answer
to this question.

If you were to die
right now,

how would you feel
about your life?

I don't know!

I wouldn't feel anything
good about my life.

Is that what you want
to hear me say? Fine.

- Come on!
- Not good enough.

Stop fucking around!

Tyler!

Jesus Christ!

Goddamn it!

Goddamn it!
Fuck you!

Fuck Fight Club.

Fuck Marla.
I'm sick of all your shit.

OK.

Quit screwing around.
Take the wheel.

Look at you.

Take the wheel!

Look at you!
You're fuckin' pathetic!

Why? Why?
What are you talking about?

Why do you think
I blew up your condo?

What?

Hitting bottom
isn't a weekend retreat.

It's not
a goddamn seminar.

Stop trying
to control everything

and just let go.

Let go!

All right. Fine.

Fine.

I'd never been
in a car accident.

This must have been what
all those people felt like

before I filed them
as statistics in my reports.

Goddamn.

Huh?

Ha ha ha ha ha hahh!

We just had
a near-life experience.

In the world I see,

you're stalking elk through
the damp canyon forest,

around the ruins
of Rockefeller Center.

You'll wear leather clothes

that will last you
the rest of your life.

You'll climb the vines
that wrap the Sears Tower.

And when you look down,

you'll see tiny figures
pounding corn,

laying strips of venison
on the empty carpool lane

of some abandoned
superhighway.

Feel better, champ.

And then...

Tyler?

Tyler was gone.

Was I asleep?

Had I slept?

You are not
a beautiful

unique snowflake,
do you understand me?

The house had become
a living thing,

wet inside
from so many people

sweating and breathing.

We are all from
the same compost.

So many people moving,
the house moved.

Planet Tyler.

I had to hug the walls.

Trapped inside this
clockwork of space monkeys.

You can't be
smoking in here.

Do you know how much ether
we have in this fucking house?

Cooking, working,
and sleeping in teams.

Hang on a second.

It's under control, sir.

Where is Tyler?

Sir, the first rule of
Project Mayhem is you do not...

Right, uh... OK.

I'm all alone.

My father dumped me.

Tyler dumped me.

I am Jack's broken heart.

What comes next
in Project Mayhem,

only Tyler knows.

The second rule is
you do not ask questions.

Get the fuck
away from me.

Get the fuck
away from me!

Who are all these people?

Paper Street Soap Company.

Can I come in?

He's not here.

What?

Tyler isn't here.

Tyler went away.

Tyler's gone.

Lay him down!

Gunshot wounds
comin' through!

Clear some fucking room!

What happened?!
What happened?!

We were on assignment.
We were supposed to kill

2 birds with one stone.

Destroy a piece
of corporate art...

Operation Latte Thunder,
go.

and trash a franchise
coffee bar.

We had it all
worked out, sir.

It went smooth
until...

Police! Freeze!

Until what?

They shot Bob.

They shot him
in the head.

Those fuckin' pigs!

- Ohh!
- Ohh!

- Oh, God.
- Son of a...

Those motherfuckers!

You morons.

You're running around
in ski masks,

trying
to blow things up.

What did you think
was gonna happen?!

OK, quick,

we gotta get rid
of the evidence.

We gotta get rid
of this body!

Bury him.

What?

Take him
to the garden

and bury him.

Come on,
people!

Let's go!

Hey, get
the fuck off!

Get away from him!

What are you
talking about?

This isn't a fucking
piece of evidence,

this is a person!

He's a friend
of mine,

and you're not
gonna bury him

in the fucking garden.

He was killed serving
Project Mayhem, sir.

This is Bob.

But sir, in... in
Project Mayhem

we have no names.

No, you
listen to me.

This is a man,
and he has a name.

And it's
Robert Paulson, OK?

Robert
Paulson?

He's a man
and he's dead now

because of us,
all right?

Do you understand that?

I understand.

In death,

a member of
Project Mayhem

has a name.

His name is
Robert Paulson.

His name is
Robert Paulson.

His name is
Robert Paulson.

Come on, guys,
please, stop it.

His name is
Robert Paulson.

His name
is Robert Paulson.

Shut up!

This is all
over with!

His name
is Robert Paulson.

His name is
Robert Paulson.

His name is
Robert Paulson.

His name is
Robert Paulson.

His name is
Robert Paulson...

Tyler?

No, this is
Detective Stern

at the Arson Unit.

I need to see you
in my office...

I went to
all the cities

on Tyler's
used ticket stubs,

barhopping.

I didn't know
how or why,

but I could look
at 50 different bars

and somehow
I just knew.

I'm looking
for Tyler Durden.

It's very important
that I talk to him.

I wish
I could help you.

Sir.

Every city
I went to...

as soon as I set foot
off the plane,

I knew a Fight Club
was close.

Hey! Hey!

Taxi!

Look at my face.
I'm a member.

Now, I just
need to know

if you've seen Tyler.

I'm not exposed
to...

speak any such
information to you,

nor would I, even if
I had said information

you want at this
juncture, be able.

You're a moron.

I'm afraid I'm gonna
have to ask you to leave.

Tyler had
been busy.

Setting up franchises
all over the country.

Was I asleep?

Had I slept?

Is Tyler
my bad dream,

or am I Tyler's?

We've just
heard the stories.

What kind
of stories?

Like, nobody knows
what he looks like.

He has facial

reconstructive
surgery

every 3 years.

That's the stupidest thing
I've ever heard.

Is it true about
Fight Club in Miami?

Is Mr. Durden
building an army?

I was living
in a state

of perpetual
d�j� vu.

Everywhere I went,

I felt I'd already
been there.

It was like following
an invisible man.

The smell
of dried blood,

dirty, bare footprints
circling each other,

that aroma of old sweat,
like fried chicken.

The feel of a floor
still warm

from the fight
the night before.

I was always just
one step behind Tyler.

His name
is Robert Paulson.

His name is
Robert Paulson.

His...

Welcome back,
sir.

How have
you been?

Do you know me?

Is this a test,
sir?

No, this
is not a test.

You were in here
last Thursday.

Thursday?

You were
standing

exactly where
you are now,

asking how good
security is.

It's tight
as a drum, sir.

Who do you
think I am?

Are you sure this
isn't a test?

No, this is
not a test.

You're Mr. Durden.

You're the one
who gave me this.

Please return
your seat backs

to their full, upright
and locked position.

Yeah?

Marla, it's me.

Have we ever
done it?

Done what?

Have we ever
had sex?

What kind of stupid
question is that?

Is it stupid because
the answer's yes,

or because
the answer's no?

Is this a trick?

No, Marla,
I need to know...

You mean you want
to know if I think

we were just having sex
or making love?

We did make love.

Is that what
you're calling it?

Just answer
the question,

Marla, please!

Did we do it
or not?

You fuck me,
then snub me.

You love me,
you hate me.

You show me
a sensitive side,

then you turn into
a total asshole.

Is that a pretty
accurate description

of our relationship,
Tyler?

We have just lost
cabin pressure.

What did you
just say?

What is wrong
with you?

What did you call
me? Say my name!

Tyler Durden.
Tyler Durden,

you fucking freak.
What's going on?

I'm coming over.

No, wait, Marla,
I'm not there...

You broke
your promise.

Jesus, Tyler.

You fuckin' talked
to her about me.

Tyler, what the fuck
is going on here?

I asked you
for one thing,

one simple thing.

Why do people
think that I'm you?

Answer me!

Sit.

Now answer me.

Why do people think
that I'm you?

I think you know.

No, I don't.

Yes, you do.

Why would anyone possibly
confuse you with me?

Uh... I...
I don't know.

You got it.

No.

Do not
fuck with us.

Say it.

Because...

Say it.

Because we're
the same person.

That's right.

We are the all-singing,
all dancing...

I don't
understand this.

You were looking
for a way

to change your life.

You could not do this
on your own.

All the ways you wish
you could be,

that's me.

I look like
you wanna look,

I fuck like
you wanna fuck,

I am smart,
capable,

and most importantly,
I am free

in all the ways
that you are not.

Oh, no.

Tyler's not here.

Tyler went away.

- Tyler's gone.
- What?

This is
impossible.

- No.
- This is crazy.

People do it
every day.

They talk
to themselves.

They see themselves
as they'd like to be.

They don't have
the courage you have,

to just
run with it.

Naturally, you're still
wrestling with it,

so sometimes
you're still you.

We should do this
again sometime.

Other times, you imagine
yourself watching me.

If this is your first
night at Fight Club,

you have to fight.

Little by little,

you're just letting
yourself become...

Tyler Durden.

You are not
your job,

or how much money
you have in the bank!

No, you have
a house.

Rented in your name.

You have jobs, you
have a whole life.

You have night jobs
because you can't sleep.

Or you stay up
and make soap.

Marla... You're
fucking Marla, Tyler.

Uh, technically,
you're fucking Marla.

But it's
all the same to her.

Oh, my God.

Now you see
our dilemma.

She knows too much.

I think we're going
to have to talk

about how this might
compromise our goals.

Wh... What are
you saying?

This is...
This is bullshit.

This is bullshit.

I'm not listening
to this.

You are insane.

No, you're insane.

And we simply do not
have time for this crap.

It's called
a changeover.

The movie goes on,

and nobody
in the audience

has any idea.

Sir!

Are you checking out?

Yeah, uh,
b- bill me.

I need you to
initial this list

of phone calls,
please.

When were
these made?

It says
right there, sir,

between 2:00 and 3:30
this morning.

No, I w...

Have I been
going to bed

earlier
every night?

Have I been
sleeping later?

Have I been Tyler
longer and longer?

Is anybody here?

D�j� vu
all over again.

Yeah, with
enough soap,

we could blow up
just about anything.

Oh, my God.

1888.

I'm sorry,
who am I calling?

1888 Franklin.
This is Maintenance.

Hello?

1888 Franklin Street?

Yes.
Can I help you?

Hello?

Yeah, yeah.

Uh, I need to talk
to your supervisor

right away.

Speaking.

OK, listen to me.

I think something
really terrible

is about to happen
at your building.

You have got...

It's under
control, sir.

Excuse me?

Don't worry
about us, sir.

We're solid.

2160.

Marla!
Marla!

Hey... Fuck! Wait!

Wait, I gotta
talk to you!

Marla, Marla!

Your whacked-out
bald freaks

hit me with
a fucking broom!

They almost
broke my arm!

They were burning their
fingertips with lye,

the stink was
unbelievable.

Look... Look,
listen,

it's gonna take
a tremendous act

of faith
on your part,

but you've got
to hear me out.

Oh, here comes
an avalanche of bullshit.

A little more faith
than that.

No, listen,
I don't want to hear

anything
you have to say.

You have every
right to be...

Um, I'll just have
a coffee, thanks.

Sir, anything you order
is free of charge, sir.

Why is it
free of charge?

Don't... Don't ask.

Whatever.

I'll have the clam chowder,
the fried chicken

with the baked potato
with everything,

and a chocolate
chiffon pie.

Clean food, please.

In that case, sir,
may I advise against

the lady eating
the clam chowder?

No clam chowder,
thank you.

You've got
about 30 seconds.

Marla, I know that
I've been acting

very, very strange.

OK, I know that
it's got to seem

like there's
2 sides to me...

2 sides?

You're Dr. Jekyll
and Mr. Jackass.

I deserve that,
but...

I've come
to realize something

very, very
important.

What?

The full extent
of our relationship

wasn't really clear
to me up until now,

for reasons I'm not
going to go into,

but the important
thing is, I know

that I haven't been
treating you so nice.

Yeah, whatever.

No, no...
15 seconds.

15 seconds,
please, please.

15 seconds, don't
open your mouth.

I'm trying to tell you
that I'm sorry.

Because what
I've come to realize

is that I really
like you, Marla.

You do?

I really do.

I care about you

and I don't want
anything bad

to happen to you
because of me.

Marla, your life
is in danger.

What?

You need to leave
town for a while.

Get out of
any major city

and just go camping
or something.

You're an insane person.

No, no,
I've involved you

in something terrible
that's about to happen.

No.
Shut up,

shut up!

Listen,
I tried, Tyler.

I really tried.

I know you did.

There are things
about you I like.

You're smart,
you're funny,

you're spectacular
in bed.

But you're
intolerable.

You have very serious
emotional problems.

Deep-seated problems
for which you should seek

professional help.

I know,
and I'm sorry.

Yeah, you're sorry,
I'm sorry,

everyone's sorry.
But...

I can't
do this anymore.

I can't.

And I won't.

I'm gone.

You can't leave,
Marla,

you're not safe!

No!
Leave me alone!

Marla, I'm trying
to protect you.

I don't ever want
to see you again!

That's fine, if
that's what it takes...

You wait.
Wait right here.

Hold it
right there.

Shut up!

Take this money
and get on this bus.

And I promise you

I will never
bother you again

if that's
what you want.

Shut up!

Please get
on the bus.

Please get
on the bus!

Why are you
doing this?

Because they think you're
some kind of a threat.

I... I can't explain it
right now,

just trust me.

If I see
where you're going,

you will
not be safe.

I'm not paying
this back.

I consider it
asshole tax.

That's fine. Remember,
stay out of major cities

for at least
a couple of days, OK?

Tyler.

You're
the worst thing

that ever
happened to me.

Hello.

I need you
to arrest me.

I am the leader of
a terrorist organization

responsible for numerous
acts of vandalism,

and assault
all over this city.

...in the
metropolitan area,

with probably a couple
hundred members.

Chapters
have sprung up

in 5 or 6 other
major cities already.

This is a tightly
regimented organization,

with many cells
capable of operating

completely independent
of central leadership.

Look, look,
go to that house, OK?

1537 Paper Street.

That's our headquarters.

In the back,
buried in the garden,

you'll find the body
of Robert Paulson.

In the basement,

you're gonna find
some bathtubs

that have been used
very recently

to make large quantities
of nitroglycerin.

I believe the plan

is to blow up
the headquarters

of these credit card
companies,

and the T.R.W. building.

Why these buildings?

Why credit card
companies?

If you erase
the debt record,

then we all
go back to zero.

It'll create
total chaos.

Keep him talking.

I need to make
a phone call.

I really admire
what you're doing.

What?

You're a brave man
to order this.

You're a genius,
sir.

You said, if anyone
ever interferes

with Project Mayhem...
even you...

we gotta
get his balls.

It's useless
to fight.

This is really
a powerful gesture,

Mr. Durden.

It'll set quite
an example.

You're making
a big mistake, fellas.

You said
you'd say that.

I'm not
Tyler Durden!

You told us
you'd say that, too.

All right,
I am Tyler Durden.

Listen to me,

I'm giving you
a direct order.

We are aborting this
mission, right now.

You said you would
definitely say that.

Are you fucking
out of your minds?

You're
police officers!

Somebody
timing this?

No! No!

Keep your
mouth shut!

Shit.

Yeah?

Hey, you know, some
of this information

checks out.

Let's go over
to that house

on Paper Street.

Be right there.

Hey! Wait!

I got him.

Sir, we have
to do this, sir.

Stop fighting.

Where's the rubber band?

Get away from me!

Drop that
fucking knife!

Drop it!

Back up.

Face down
on the floor,

both of you,
right now!

Get down
on the floor!

First person comes out
this fucking door

gets a... gets a lead salad,
you understand?

Get away!
Get away!

I ran.

I ran until
my muscles burned

and my veins pumped
battery acid.

Then I ran
some more.

What the fuck
are you doing?

Running around
in your underpants.

Man, you look
like a crazy person.

No, I'm
onto you.

I know what's
going on here.

Well come on,
then.

I got us a great place
to watch from.

It'll be like
pay-per-view.

Oh, Christ.

Now what
are you doing?

I'm stopping this.

Why? Greatest thing
you've ever done, man.

No, I can't
let this happen.

You know there
are 10 other bombs

in 10 other buildings.

God damn it, since when
is Project Mayhem

about murder?

The buildings
are empty.

Security and maintenance,
all our people.

We're not killing
anyone, man,

we're setting 'em free.

Bob is dead.

They shot him
in the head.

You wanna
make an omelet,

you gotta
break some eggs.

No, I'm not
listening to you.

You're not
even there.

Wouldn't do that.

Not unless I knew which
wires were what.

If you know,
then I know.

Or...

maybe I knew
you'd know,

so I spent
the whole day

thinking about
the wrong ones.

You think?

Oh, heavens no,
not the green one.

Pull any one
but the green one.

I asked you
not to do that!

Tyler, get away
from the van.

Tyler, I'm
not kidding!

Get away
from the van!

God damn it!

Whoa!

OK, you are now
firing a gun

at your imaginary
friend

near 400 gallons
of nitroglycerin!

Look, Tyler,
Tyler!

Ahh!

Aw, come on.

Don't go.

What?!

3 minutes.

This is it.

The beginning.

Ground zero.

I think this is about
where we came in.

Would you like
to say a few words

to mark the occasion?

I'm sorry?

I still can't think
of anything.

Ah, flashback humor.

It's getting
exciting now.

2 and 1/2.

Think of everything

we've accomplished,
man.

Out these windows,
we will view

the collapse
of financial history.

One step closer to
economic equilibrium.

Why is she here?

Tying up loose ends.

Put me down,
you bald-headed fucks!

I'm begging you,

please don't
do this.

I'm not doing this.

We are doing this.

This is what we want.

No, I don't
want this.

Right, except you
is meaningless now.

We have to forget
about you.

Jesus, you're
a voice in my head.

You're a voice
in mine.

You're a fucking
hallucination,

why can't I
get rid of you?

You need me.

No, I don't,
I really don't anymore.

Hey, you created me.

I didn't create
some loser alter ego

to make myself
feel better.

Take some
responsibility.

I do.

I am responsible
for all of it,

and I
accept that.

So please,
I'm begging you,

please
call this off.

Have I ever
let us down?

How far have you come
because of me?

I will bring us
through this.

As always,

I will carry you,
kicking and screaming,

and in the end,
you will thank me.

Tyler.

Tyler, I'm
grateful to you

for everything

that you've
done for me.

But this
is too much.

I don't
want this.

What do you want?!

Want to go back
to the shit job,

fucking condo world,
watching sitcoms?

Fuck you.
I won't do it.

Oh, God, this
can't be happening.

It's already done,
so shut up.

60 seconds.

Can you see
alright?

I can figure this out.

I can figure this out,
this isn't even real.

You're not real,
that gun isn't...

That gun isn't
even in your hand.

The gun's in my hand.

Hey, good for you.
Doesn't change a thing.

Why do you want to put
a gun to your head?

Not my head, Tyler.

Our head.

Interesting.

Where are you going
with this, I KEA boy?

Hey, it's you
and me.

Friends.

Tyler...

I want you to
really listen to me.

OK.

My eyes are open.

What's that smell?

Where is
everybody?

I don't know,
what's goin' on?

Mr. Durden!

Oh, my God.

Sir?

Are you, uh...

Are you
alright, sir?

Oh, yeah, I'm OK.

You look
terrible, sir.

What happened?

Oh, nothing.
It's no problem.

Oh, no, no, sir,
he's not kidding.

You look
really awful.

You need medical
assistance.

- I'm fine.
- Ugh.

Look, I'm fine.

Everything's fine.

Let... Let her go.

Christ
almighty!

You!

Hi, Marla.

Leave her
with me,

get your stuff,

I'll meet you
downstairs.

Are you sure?

Yes, I'm sure.

You fucker!

What kind of sick
fucking game

are you
playing now,

putting me
on a fucking bu...

Oh, my God,
your face!

Yeah, I know.

What happened?

Don't ask.

You're shot.

Yes, I'm shot.

Oh, my God.

I can't believe
he's standing.

One tough
motherfucker.

Who did this?

I did, actually.

Find some gauze.

You shot
yourself?

Yes, but it's OK.

Marla, look at me.

I'm really OK.

Trust me.

Everything's
gonna be fine.

You met me at
a very strange time

in my life.

With your feet
on the air

And your head
on the ground

Try this trick
and spin it, yeah

Your head'll
collapse

If there's
nothing in it

And you'll ask
yourself

Where is my mind?

Way out in the water,
see it swimming

I was swimming
in the Caribbean

Animals were hiding
behind the rock

Except for little fish

When they told me
east is west

Trying to talk
to me, coy koi

Where is my mind?

Way out in the water,
see it swimming

With your feet
on the air

And your head
on the ground

Try this trick
and spin it, yeah

Your head'll collapse
if there's nothing in it

And you'll ask yourself

Where is my mind?

Way out in the water,
see it swimming