Original subtitles

Mountains.

Empty road.

More empty road.

Empty road with tractor.

Mailboxes.

House with satellite dish.

Youth centre backyard.

Stupid sheep. Stupid hay bales.

Stupid trampoline girls.

Welcome to Skoddeheimen.

TURN ME ON, GODDAMMIT

Oh, hallelujah!

You should see how stiff and huge my dick is.

Big, warm, strong and...

Simply glorious. Would you like me to get inside you?

I just want to get inside you and let it go.

Jeez, am I ever hard.

Are you getting there? Well, this is it.

I'm officially about to come. What about you?

Hello?

-Alma? -In the kitchen.

-Hi, darling. How was school today? -As usual.

-What about you? -Not quite as usual.

A local news crew came to see us.

My boss at the turnip plant won them over with his charm.

Why's the phone on the floor?

-Hi, Alma. -Hi, Artur.

-Nice dog. -Bingo.

Mind if I join you?

At night I dream that Artur climbs in through my window.

He looks tenderly at me.

He leads me to the bed.

He carefully lays me down.

He pulls up my nightgown and caresses me with warm hands.

He lies down beside me, holds me close.

Stays there until morning.

-I'm heading this way. -Okay.

You going to the party?

-Yeah. -Cool.

-Sorry. -Smoking isn't healthy.

No, it's damn unhealthy. But it calms me down.

-I'm serious. We don't have all day. -You're right.

-What about him? -Perfect.

-Excuse me? Hi. -Hi.

I was going to buy beer, but forgot my ID at home.

What a pity.

-He was all right. -Well, maybe.

Hurry. The bus.

-Do you have to? Every time? -Yeah.

-Wild Wet Dreams, Stig speaking? -Hi, it's Alma.

Alma? Jeez, I was worried. You just vanished. What happened?

-Mom came home. -Oh dear.

-She didn't get it. -Well, that's good.

-Just so you know. Call you later. -Please do, Alma.

-What do you think? -Pretty neat.

-Jogging reduces sick leave. -It that a problem?

It could become one. You never know.

In any case, it's a good idea to stay in shape.

Bye.

-Hi, Magda. -Hi.

Artur's going to the party. I've bought a new dress.

I had my doubts. Then Maria came in and said:

I think you look hot. Buy it.

Maria's cool. My best friends' big sister. Studies sociology in Oslo.

She said, "Come and visit me. Bring Artur along."

Then she winked slyly.

"Hi, Artur." "Hi, Alma."

"Wanna step outside?" "Okay."

We run through the forest.

Artur looks at me.

He says we're alike, and belong together.

He takes my hand in his.

And we're one.

-Leaving already? -Can't stay too long.

Behave at the party. Don't drink until you puke or get pregnant. Okay?

All right. Bye, Maria.

She's having a blast in Oslo. Parties, concerts, cool roommates.

While we're here, locked up, oppressed.

-Take it easy. -I'm sick of this hole.

-I'm so done with it. I'm leaving. -So where are you gonna go?

To Texas, to work to abolish capital punishment.

-How? -Raising awareness.

Like, daily demos outside the courtrooms.

-Good luck. -You wanna spend your life here?

Be a shop clerk, party on until you turn gray?

-I'll get an education later. -In what?

Master of stacking and bachelor of price tagging?

There's Artur. He plays guitar in the choir band.

-And I'm singing solo. Hi! -Hi, Artur.

All men are potential rapists. They can do it if they want.

-But don't. -They have the gear.

-Relax, will you? -I'm relaxed.

This singer's a fascist. He's always been.

-As if. -It's true.

-Ready to step outside? -No.

-I'll wait a bit. -Me too.

-Why the big smile? -He poked me with his dick. Artur.

-Artur. -He poked you with his dick?

-What do you mean? -I was outside. Artur came.

He stood beside me, opened his fly and got out his boner.

He pushed it against my thigh. Like this.

-You sure it was his dick? -Yeah.

-I was just catching some fresh air. -Listen to yourself!

It's like... Hello, Alma! "He poked me with his dick!" Get real.

-You know what Alma just said? -I need a smoke.

-That you poked her with your dick. -Thanks a lot, Alma.

But... He did poke me with his dick.

Well, I've seen enough boners to know they'd shrink around you.

So off the mark.

Alma, are you awake?

Yeah.

-May I come in? -No.

Alma, you're much too young to drink beer.

-I'm almost 16. -Alma, please...

Please what? Please turn 16, or please don't?

-You know what I mean. -I've got a fever.

I won't allow it in any case.

Alma home?

-Morning, Alma. -Hi.

What happened yesterday outside the youth centre?

I don't remember. I was drunk.

Aren't you afraid I'll infect you?

I'm gonna take off my pants.

You're gonna go down on me, then I'll go down on you. Okay?

Artur came by. He fucked me. He loved it.

But I want more. I want more.

Touch them.

Oh yes, Alma.

Now go down on me, or I'll hammer your head in.

Get me a hammer. Now!

Hello?

Everyone knows what you said. Nobody wants to talk to you.

Ingrid came to see me. She took out her lip gloss.

I wanted a hammer inside me.

I got up. Brushed against her with my tit. She screamed:

-God damn it! -And left.

My personal hell just broke loose.

Alma! We've overslept. Get up! I'll drive you.

I'm really sorry.

Have a nice day.

Let me see.

"Anyone poked you with..."

Silence.

Day 1: The note.

Day 2: Me and the garbage bin.

Day 3...

"Dick-Alma".

Mission outcast accomplished.

-I want a hash cigarette. -A hash cigarette?

-Yes please. -All right.

We'll fix it during the lunch break. Hundred kroner. Okay?

Has anyone poked Alma with his dick lately?

Does anyone want to smoke this with me? Artur, what about you?

Huh?

That day, Artur walked me home from the bus stop. He said:

I don't really like the sisters, at least not the blond one, Ingrid.

-I think she's stupid. -You do?

I really like you, Alma. But it's so hard to express what I feel.

You're so...

-Unpopular. -That's right.

From now on it's us. I'll always defend you.

It's too late. I'm moving to New York to become a model.

But...

What's that?

We hurry home. Mom's not there.

We jump into her bed, tear off our clothes and have sex.

Then we smoke the hash cigarette.

Artur blows smoke rings like a pro.

I turn soft. Artur turns hard.

Then we keep having sex until sunrise.

Dick-Alma, Dick-Alma!

-Where have you been? -The mailbox at the grocery store.

All right.

It seems impossible, but you can feel his stench all the way up here.

Time for a break soon.

Ingrid will apply more lip gloss. Then she'll approach Artur and say:

"You gotta see this." She'll pull him into the broom closet.

Let him fondle her big, fat tits.

They kiss, agree to marry and have brats.

Goddamn choir slut.

Good enough?

Hi.

-Cool jacket. -Thanks.

This sucks big time.

I know. Hopeless.

-What is it? -Feel the smell?

-No. -Hash.

-It stinks of hash. My jacket. -The only stench here is of sweat.

-No, it's hash. I promise. -Very well.

-I'm not crazy. -Surely not.

-Hi, Kjartan. -Hello, Saralou.

-Why are you looking at me? -Sorry. I'm stoned.

-You want some? I've got more. -No thanks.

Maybe some other time?

I'm not into that shit.

-Goodbye. -Bye, Saralou.

6374 kroner?!

What's this? "Service number"?

Alma, have you been calling this service number?

It's phone sex.

-Phone sex? -Relax.

-I'll pay for it. -But you don't have a job.

Maybe Sebjørn needs help at the store?

Right.

We'll call him. Promise not to do it again. Deal?

Deal. Don't say I need it to pay for phone sex.

-Don't be so direct. -Phone sex!

-Alma! Service number. -Phone sex, damn it!

Phone sex! Your sick daughter needs phone sex!

-I'm dialling. -Don't say it.

We'll see.

-Did you tell him? -No.

You can start...

You can start tomorrow.

Just tell me one thing, Alma. Why on earth did you call a service number?

Because I'm horny.

I think I need to be alone now.

-This your hideout? -Yeah.

"He poked me with his dick." Well put.

A classic.

You didn't worry about the consequences?

-Nope. -What's it like?

I wanna do like this and scream.

-Then do it. -Just did. Felt like a fool.

I've never been in love.

Not that I wanna be.

-Not until I'm far away from here. -Why not?

-I'd end up a housewife. -Is that what happens?

Correct.

Mom was gonna study in Bergen.

She met dad. End of story.

I can hang with you here, but not at school. Okay?

Okay.

-Hello? -Hi, it's Stig.

This is your monthly bonus call. Are you ready?

-Yes. -We're in a metropolis. New York.

It's evening. It's raining, pouring down outside the UN.

I come in through the entrance, run to the elevator. Are you with me?

You're there, in a suit skirt. You gaze hungrily at me.

I feel my dick growing, a huge tower building up. I open my zipper.

You look at my dick. It's even bigger now. I lift up your skirt.

-My suit skirt? -I find the way, thrust into America.

You're dripping wet, so...

Alma?

Dinnertime!

Eating alone wasn't much fun.

It didn't taste good. We can eat dinner together tomorrow.

Hurray for that. It's rubbish anyway.

-What? -It tastes like shit.

After "bag", say "receipt".

If they say "yes", just...

-There. Super simple, right? -Yeah.

It's always quiet this time of day.

Before the rush.

-Boring? -Yeah, a bit.

You know what we'll do now?

Close the store.

Then we'll go to the back and...

All night.

You're so hot.

You have no idea.

Alma.

Hello? Hello?

39.50.

I was bored, so I tried riding a roll of coins.

Then Sebjørn turned up in my fantasy.

What's the matter with me?

And Artur simply left.

Why can't he just admit it?

-Why can't you admit it? -Jeez, you're sick.

But you did it. Yes, you did it! You did it!

Ouch. Huge ouch.

-Not good. Pull yourself together. -Go fuck yourself.

-That's no way to address a teacher. -Fine, spongeface.

People? My birthday's next week. I'm having a party.

Here you go.

No.

-Why not? -That's just how it is.

-How are things at school? -Fine.

-That's good. -Really.

Well, I'll go complete the orders.

I bet mom's ecstatic that I'm working two evenings a week.

She can barely stand looking at me anymore.

She tries. I mean, she's my mom.

But she can't stand it.

She knows I'm horny. It grosses her out.

Maybe she's heard me.

Artur!

I can see it in her face.

She's guaranteed heard me.

Little raisin.

-Saralou! -Kjartan, hi.

-I've written you a poem. -A poem?

Beautiful.

Why don't you want to be with me?

Because I don't follow the social norm of showers and deodorants?

-That's not it. -My pitiful moustache?

-No. -Then what?

I wanna get out of here. Away from Skoddeheimen.

The day I turn 16, I'll get a moped. Then we can leave at once.

-Where do you wanna go? -Texas. Abolish capital punishment.

-Important issue. -Very.

You know, I like the way you smell.

Rank, but real.

Could you dust the magazine shelf? I'll pay you an extra half hour.

-Of course. -Super.

Thanks a lot.

He bikes off with his bike helmet. When he gets home, -

- he asks Ingrid why she's stopped seeing Alma.

"You used to be inseparable."

"Haven't you heard?" "No."

"She said Artur poked her with his dick. She's a pervo."

Sebjørn is speechless.

I have to cut this out.

-Pull myself together. Behave. -Smart.

-Well, cheers. -Cheers.

-By the way, I'm in love. -No?!

-Big crisis. -But that's great!

-I must be cold, hard, let it pass. -Good plan.

Not really.

-Who's the lucky guy? -Kjartan.

-Sara and Kjartan. -God damn it.

-Lousy town! -Shitty store!

-Stupid republic! -Crap phone bill!

-Asshole American legal system! -Goddamn choir!

Fuck social democracy! Fuck society! I mean it, damn it!

-Cheers. -Cheers.

-I think Artur likes you. -Oh?

Yeah, I'm almost certain.

-Why do you think so? -Well, I dunno.

-I just think so. -You do?

Yeah. Imagine. Me dating Kjartan. You dating Artur.

-We could go on a double date. -Fine by me.

Hello? Oh hi, Sebjørn.

A porn mag?

Listen, there's something abnormal about Alma.

So... Could you give her one more chance, please?

Thank you so much.

Porn? You really want to support such a vile business?

-You're grounded. Go to your room. -Fine.

-Again? -We've got regular days now.

Tuesdays and Thursdays. It's very popular. You're still grounded.

-I'm thirsty. -All right.

I'm using the safety lock.

Alma Solheimslid.

16 years old in three months. An outcast, shunned by everyone.

Because I said Artur poked me with his dick. He just said:

Thanks a lot, Alma.

Well, thanks the same, Artur.

-Alma, are you here? -I'm here.

Good. I've got a plan.

-Don't cry when I can't comfort you. -I'm not crying.

Good.

I think it's time you had a word with Artur.

-I don't know. -Maybe you'll get your life back?

-You going to Kari's party? -Think so.

It's certain to be boring. She's so anal.

Yeah.

-You gonna start coughing? -I know you met Alma.

I followed you. You were going to the mailbox. I saw you in the bus shed.

I asked myself why they never wrote back. Checked your desk drawer.

Full of unsent letters. So who's Sebjørn's "radical" daughter?

-A disloyal, pathetic hypocrite. -Alma never did anything wrong.

-Except lying. -What if it's Artur who's lying?

-No. He tried to kiss me yesterday. -Right.

-It's true! -I'm sick of this.

I'm going to talk to Alma at school on Monday.

Hello? Aren't we going to a party?!

Wild Wet Dreams, Stig speaking?

-It's Alma. -Hi!

It's been a while. Enough to suspect you got lucky. Am I right?

-I'm afraid not. -Ready to get it on?

I'm not in the mood.

-Is it Artur? Doesn't he want you? -No. Nobody wants me.

Sure they do! There's always someone out there.

-Talking about yourself? -Nope.

I've got enough to cope with. But think, Alma.

There must be someone you can talk to, someone who understands you.

Maybe. I'm not sure.

Well, then there's just one thing that helps.

-What? -Booze.

Sara writes letters to prisoners on death row. Ingrid's a soloist.

Maria is having a great time in Oslo.

How are things with Alma?

Well...

I feel bad, saying this about my own daughter, but...

I hate it. She only thinks about one thing:

Sex. She calls sex hotlines and steals porn magazines.

And I've heard her many times. I'm so embarrassed.

-I don't know what to do. -Poor thing.

-Have you never heard yours? -No.

-Hello? -Hi, you prick.

-We belong together. -You're sick.

Come here.

-You poked me with your dick. -I didn't.

-You did. You did. -No, Alma.

-You poked me with your dick! -Okay. Fine.

-I thought it meant something. -It didn't.

-My life's ruined. -I know, but...

-So I should admit it to everyone? -That would be nice.

-No way. -We belong together.

We have to be together.

Alma...

I already have a girlfriend.

Turid. From Stavanger.

We met at the Choirival last year.

-The Choirival? -It's a festival for Ten Sing choirs.

Sorry.

-Oslo? -Yeah.

Hop in.

Hey? Come on.

We're there.

The first recess is in fifteen minutes.

Artur will look to where I usually stand.

Børre will notice, and say:

"Alma's not at school today." "What do you mean?"

"You have to be strong to take the kind of shit she's taken."

Artur will feel guilty.

"She's really kinda cute." Einar nods his head.

Artur basically agrees. He's starting to regret.

But it's too late.

'Cause I'm never going back.

-Hello? -Is Maria home?

-Hi. I'm Elisabeth. -Alma.

Come in.

-Does Maria know you're coming? -No.

-Because it's a bit early. -No problem.

You've got a visitor.

-Alma? -Hi.

What are you doing here?

Good morning, sunshine.

Hi.

-Cool jacket. -Thanks.

Are you okay?

Not really.

It's pretty stressful these days.

The exams are coming up, and I'm way behind.

-We can talk this evening, okay? -Sure.

Good to see you.

Hi, this is Dick-Alma's sex hotline. Leave a message or fuck off.

-Hi, Magda. -Hi.

Sorry to disturb you. Alma didn't come home last night.

Is that so?

-You haven't seen her? -No.

Sorry about the curtain.

-It was mean. -It was stupid. Unnecessary.

Imagine, insinuating that I spy on people.

-Of course you don't. -No, of course not.

So you haven't seen Alma?

Let's see...

At around eight yesterday evening, Alma came out the door.

Evidently upset. Gave me the finger. She walked down the road.

Turned left, probably to see Artur.

Two hours later, at half past ten, I saw her in the passenger seat -

- of a pale blue Volvo. I assume they drove to town.

-She probably hitchhiked to Oslo. -Jesus! Oslo?

You know, her great idol lives there, Maria.

-Sebjørn's eldest daughter. -Thank you.

Well, Alma's been very much alone here lately.

-You know what happened at the party? -No.

-Who was that? -Unknown caller.

-Did you run away from home? -Yeah.

-Why? -Alma doesn't have to tell everyone.

-It's okay. -Let's hear it.

Right, about six weeks ago, there was a party at the youth centre.

Everything was normal.

Then I went out for a beer. Artur came and stood beside me.

We stood there. Suddenly, out of the blue, he unzipped his fly -

- and took out his dick, erected, and poked it against my thigh.

-You must be kidding. -I'm not.

I was like, "He poked me with his dick!"

Nobody believed me. Artur denied it, of course.

It wasn't very popular. 'Cause someone else likes Artur -

- more than normal, and she made the whole region think I was mental.

Nobody talks to me at school. They call me "Dick-Alma".

Shit.

So I hitchhiked here.

There's nothing wrong with you, Alma. Nothing at all.

If you ask me, this Artur guy has the hots for you.

I mean, you don't just poke your dick at anyone.

-Cheers. -Here's to you, Alma.

Forget Artur.

Dick-Alma, Dick-Alma, -

- where did you go?

Queen of the night.

Something went wrong, but now you're in the city, -

- everything feels all right.

You smile so lovely, -

- you're the one I want, you're Dick-Alma.

I mean, damn it, you're Dick-Alma!

Let the dorks eat shit. Dick-Alma rules!

"Little raisin"!

Hey, you have to answer it.

Hi, this is Alma's phone.

She's here.

My boss gave me a week off for the fall vacation.

We're going to Paris!

Really?

Cool!

The turnip plant boss?

Hi.

-Arild. -Alma.

Nice.

Bye.

Artur? What are you doing here?

Can you come down?

Hi.

I lied to you the other day.

-Saying it didn't mean anything. -It's okay. What's done is done.

But...

-Yes? -I think I'm in love with you.

Artur, stop it. You had your shot, and boy did you blow it.

Guitar player or not.

-We're two of a kind. Alike. -I'm no coward.

-No. -Goodbye, Artur.

Hi.

-Our hitchhiker? -Your sister says hello.

Cool.

What happened, Ingrid?

-Lip gloss overdose. -Oh dear.

I POKED ALMA WITH MY DICK

So you're Artur?

Yeah.

Mommy?

Can Artur sleep over?

No.