INT. SMALL PROTESTANT CHURCH - NIGHTThe Terry Gilliam from this morning was excellent, you probably know that was how I met C all those years ago in the first place, when I'd rented all the Gilliam films from Lake's Video Dimension, when the Paideia people asked me to take over the Gilliam Film Fest, because the organizer never showed up. We were in Winch Social Room when the tall pale patch lady appeared, and sat with us, and enjoyed the entirety of Fear and Loathing even though every female I'd ever showed it to ran away screaming. That she liked this movie is why I pursued her in the first place. Something that never happens. Always, always, I only ever go home with ladies that pick me out of a crowd, except with her, with the tall one I gave her little toys and gifts and learned what she liked until the evening with the toes. But it started with Fear and Loathing in January 2000 and now look at us.
Everyone sits in chairs.
LEADER
To begin tonight's communion, Chloe would like to say a few words.
Taking the lectern is CHLOE, a pale, sickly girl whose skin stretches yellowish and tight over bones. She wears a head bandage. She clears her throat.
JACK (V.O.)
Oh, yeah, Chloe. Chloe looked the way Meryl Streep's skeleton would look if you made it smile and walk around a party being extra nice to everybody.
CHLOE
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.
APPLAUSE from around the room.
CHLOE
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.
(leaning very close to the microphone) I have pornographic movies in my apartment, and lubricants and amyl nitrate...--
The LEADER gingerly takes control of the microphone.
LEADER
Chloe. Everyone, let's thank Chloe.
EVERYONE
Thank you, Chloe.
Thank you.
And I recognize the dildo from 2001 by the way. That's funny.
INT. MARLA'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS (FLASHBACK)Maybe a week ago, I committed it to writing because it seemed so obvious, "people" were trying to provoke a violent confrontation in order to screw up any forward progress, and a few days ago something like that scenario got very loud and obvious. I've been collecting explanations from the professional liar class responsible since then, there is John Brennan, a person that still requires being dangled upside down and beaten with a stick until the candy falls out. I had been taunting him all day, how surprised am I supposed to be that something nasty finally showed up?
Marla pulls Tyler inside and shuts the door. Her drugged eyes look all over him.
MARLA
You got here fast. Did I call you? Huh? Hey.
Marla staggers and sits on the bed. She slides off, along with the blanket and sheets, to the floor. Tyler laughs.
MARLA
The mattresses are all sealed in slippery plastic.
Tyler studies her with cynical curiosity, looks at a DILDO lying atop a dresser. Marla follows his gaze.
MARLA
Oh, don't worry. It's not a threat to you.
SIRENS and vehicles SCREECHING outside can be HEARD, doors opening and SLAMMING, running FOOTFALLS.
MARLA
Oh, fuck! Somebody called the cops!...
She gets to her feet.
INT. HALLWAY (FLASHBACK)
Tyler and Marla go out of her room. Marla tries to LOCK her door, but Tyler GRABS her toward the STAIRCASE. COPS and PARAMEDICS charge up with oxygen and medical kids. Marla and Tyler flatten against the wall to let them past. Tyler, playing the indifferent, dances.
COP
Hey -- Where's 513?
MARLA
(with a gentle voice, pointing)
End of the hall.
Tyler grabs her and they descend the stairs. The rescuers keep running.
MARLA
(calling after)
The girl who lived there used to be a charming, lovely girl. She's lost faith in herself.
COP
Miss Singer! Let us help!
MARLA
She's a monster!
COP
You have every reason to live!
MARLA
She's infectious human waste! Good luck trying to save her!
Then there were two different pixelated explanations in agreement, a computer generated version of Elizabeth that we all know was fake told the audience the nasty episode was over "timewasting", prompting me to wonder why people who have been watching me every millisecond of my life think I ever wasted anybody ever, making me wonder what they thought they meant by "timewasting". It must have been something else, they must have been the violent thieves my government was chasing if they think I have wasted anyone's time. The Steven Emerson book says the argument was religious in nature, that some imaginary version of an imaginary Islamic organization wanted to beat up something "Christian" on a Sunday just because. The Frank album said it was essentially financial, with bad feelings converging over the fate the the Liz, which we all agree about by the way, and the NPR last evening was itself agreeing with the financial aspect, saying my having put "distance" between myself and the Capaldi monster that clearly threatened me made some mob somewhere fear for the income my proximity generates. If the ho was leaving the stable, such as I was, then the pimp gets mad and flirts with violence. My "sister" used to call me "ho" and I always thought that was funny.
Something however obviously is mad about Elizabeth and strives to defend the honor of this beloved creature who got such a bad deal. We have seen that many times this year in fact. Many many times, in ongoing conflagrations all over the world actually. I had spent Sunday morning with my hat over my head at the waterfront to keep from annoying people if I started crying about it again actually. What is this name "Dagmar" anyway? Should I be hunting for Dagmar?
A thing the pixels are too scared to state explicitly is that Sunday night was also weird because of my written embracing of any number of gay abortion technician associates, and because delusional gaybashing is so shameful they're almost afraid to say this is what they were thinking when they let Richard start screaming at me and my friend three days ago, with me and Ben singing Village People ("Nobody can stop the music!"), even though the Navy sports channel on AM radio had already used the word "bashing" on purpose some weeks ago in regard to my treatment, even though the attacker involved is pretty much a one issue anti-gay maniac, even though the Dogma people themselves tried to leave a hint about this in the now crucial traincar scene, culminating this morning in the strange visit of a lisping Detective Stabler seeming to register that yes in fact that might be what happened, and well how weird is that? Any thoughts on this Joan Jett? Is there a scientist capable of calculating how much of my life was spent staring at boobs? Have you ever met anyone ever in your life that has lost so much just for the ability to stare at boobs? Am I not in fact that creepy old guy in the Kids in the Hall sketch that lost my house and possessions because I spent everything on boobs? Am I not the Bukowski character that did the same thing?
Whatever cheap excuse involved, as I WENT OUT OF MY WAY TO PUT IN WRITING ON PURPOSE A LONG WHILE AGO, these "people" were definitely trying to provoke a violent confrontation in order to prevent any forward progress on my part, to new real estate or otherwise, and that my attempts to leave the hotel where I was told my life was in danger were to be frowned upon, because they like my life being in danger, which is why for instance lining the hallway by my room when I moved in was a George, an Andy, a redhead, and then some kind of remote Elizabeth unit being only slightly more female than the other remote Elizabeth units I get to chat with sometimes. At this moment sitting next to me synchronizing his mentally ill narcoleptic Gaza Strip problems with my typing is the drone that makes loud puking noises when I check the tractor lady's Facebook. Remember him? The guy that walked up and started masturbating when I was playing Yes on the headphones a few days ago? What a great place this is! My original assumption was that something here was grafting onto the 1999 period, where the "George" character next door was taking up where I left off back then, being a drug counselor like I was talking about fifteen years ago, because Saint Louise, because whatever. Their abusive approach to mind issues is so distractingly awful that there was never any chance of mistaking them for friends. And witness! They are cruel vicious bastards. It's sad that they feel they need to be a rebel army to fight the good feeling of the only person anywhere that still liked them.
INT. LOU'S TAVERN - BASEMENT - NIGHTA few days ago I laughed at the sign for "Rock Bottom Brewery" because of that Tom Selleck bot that was so adamant about being some kind of domination fantasy for the security porn crowd way back in Autumn 2011. I read an article stating that was part of an official Navy disciplinary process called 10-66 or something, a number that started with ten anyway, essentially a form of institutionalized torture. The Tom Bot failed so spectacularly that the tallest building in Chicago is named after the kids he murdered, and the word "bottom" itself has his name in it. It reminds me I have to thank Rick Mayall again a few hundred more times. "Bottom". Heh. And they told me "the Ferrari people" weren't even real.
An enormous CROWD of guys, including Jack and Bob, stands around Tyler, who's in the center of the circle.
TYLER
Look around, look around...and I see a lot of new faces.
An enthusiastic RUMBLE from the crowd.
TYLER
Shut up! Which means a lot of you have been breaking the first two rules of fight club.
A glum silence falls. Guys look at each other.
TYLER
Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who have ever lived. I see all this potential -- God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas and waiting tables; they're slaves with white collars. Advertisements have them chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit they don't need. We are the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no great war, or great depression. Our great war is a spiritual war. Our great depression is our lives. We've all been raised by television to believe that one day we'll all be millionaires and movie gods and rock stars -- but we won't. And we're learning slowly that fact. And we're very, very pissed off.
The crowd erupts into a DEAFENING CHORUS of agreement. Jack looks at blazing excitement in the eyes of the crowd.
TYLER
The first rule of fight club is, you do not talk about--
A fat, MIDDLE-AGED MAN stomps down the stairs, pushing into the crowd, followed by a TALL, HEFTY THUG, who holds a GUN.
TYLER
Who are you?
FAT MAN (LOU)
Who am I?!
TYLER
Yeah.
LOU
There's a sign on the front says "Lou's tavern." I'm fucking Lou. Who the fuck are you?!
TYLER
Tyler Durden.
LOU
Who told you motherfuckers that you could use my place?
TYLER
We have a deal worked out with Irvin.
LOU
Irvin? Irvin's at home with a broken collarbone.
Everyone glances guiltily at each other.
LOU
He don't own this place. I do. How much money's he getting for this?
TYLER
There is no money.
LOU
Really?
TYLER
Free to all.
LOU
Ain't that something?
TYLER
It is actually.
LOU
Look, stupid fuck, I want everyone outta here now!
TYLER
Hey. You should join our club.
LOU
Did you hear what I just said?
TYLER
You and your friend.
Lou SLUGS Tyler in the stomach, doubles him over.
LOU
You hear me now?
Tyler gains his breath, determined.
TYLER
No, I didn't quite catch it, Lou..
Lou PUNCHES him again in the face.
TYLER
Oh!! Still not getting it.
Lou PUNCHES him again in the face.
TYLER
Ahh!! Ok, ok, I got, I got it. Shit I lost it.
Lou proceeds to beat the shit out of Tyler, PUNCHING his face, his stomach. Tyler collapses to the floor. Lou starts KICKING his stomach. Tyler bleeds from the mouth and face. Some of the guys move forward, but the Thug points the gun. Tyler waves them off. Tyler starts laughing hysterically.
THUG
Get back, all of you! Everybody back!
TYLER
Ha, ha, ha, ha! Aw, Lou...,come on man, we really like this place.
Lou flushes red with exasperation, KICKS more. Tyler continues laughing hysterically. Lou PUNCHES him repeatedly in the face.
TYLER
That's it, Lou, get it out.
LOU
Shut the fuck up!
TYLER
Oh, yeah! Ha, ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho!
LOU
Do you think this is fucking funny?
Finally sweating, bewildered Lou stops. He looks to the Thug who is just bewildered.
LOU
Fuckin' guys are loony, I'm telling ya. Unbelievable.
Suddenly Tyler SPRINGS UP, grabs onto Lou...Tyler's blood spatters on Lou. Lou tries to shake Tyler off, but he can't. The Thug grabs Tyler and pulls. Tyler spits and shouts through clenched teeth.
TYLER
You don't know we're I've been, Lou!
LOU
Oh, my God!
TYLER
You don't know where I've been! Ha, ha, ha!
Tyler rubs his bloody face into Lou's face. The Thug lifts Tyler. Tyler clings to Lou's necktie, dragging Lou as he is dragged...
TYLER
Please let us keep this place, Lou. Please!
Blood dribbles out of Tyler's mouth, spattering Lou.
LOU
Fucking, use the basement, Christ!
TYLER
I want your word, Lou! I want your word!
LOU
On my mother's honor.
Tyler lets go of Lou's belt. Lou scrambles away. The Thug drops Tyler, trying to keep cleat of the blood. Lou gets to his feet. He and the Thug back away...slamming the door behind.
TYLER
Thanks, Lou.
(to the Thug)
You too big guy. See you next week.
INT. 2ND FLOOR LANDING - SAMEToday is the day I get to do an intake meeting with another residence, I get to move away, unless something stops me this afternoon, hence, well, you saw that before right?
Jack walks, HEARS Marla SCREAM in orgasm. He reaches the landing. Tyler's door is ajar. Jack peeks in...Marla's legs are sprawled on the bed. The door PUSHES OPEN WIDER -- Tyler naked, stands CLOSE TO CAMERA.
TYLER
What are you doing?
Jack steps back.
JACK
Just...going to bed.
Tyler scratches his head, wears A RUBBER GLOVE.
TYLER
You want to finish her off?
JACK
Nah... No thanks you.
MARLA
I found the cigarettes.
Jack continues toward his room and Tyler closes the door.
MARLA
Who are you talking to?
TYLER
Shut up!
INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT
Jack brushes his teeth.
JACK (V.O.)
I became the calm, little center of the world. I was the Zen master.
CLOSE UP - COMPUTER MONITOR
Haiku is BEING TYPED in a trendy, italicized font.
"Worker bees can leave
Even drones can fly away
The queen is their slave"
JACK (V.O.)
I wrote a little haiku poems.
INT. JACK'S OFFICE - DAY
Jack's clothes are PERMANENTLY STAINED WITH BLOOD. He sits in Zen pose, cigarette in mouth, finishes typing Haiku.
JACK (V.O.)
I e-mailed them to everyone.
He hits "SEND". Boss enters.
BOSS
Is that your blood?
JACK
Some of it, yeah.
Boss stares at Jack like he's from Mars.
BOSS
You can't smoke in here. Take the rest of the day off. Come back Monday with some clean clothes. Get yourself together.
INT. HALLWAY - SAME
Jack's leaving, looks like a war casualty, passing COWORKERS who coldly stare at him. His face is totally passive.
JACK (V.O.)
I got right in everyone's hostile little face. Yes, these are my bruises from fighting. Yes, I'm comfortable with that. I am enlightened.
EXT. PAPER STREET - SUNSET
Jack walks toward the HOUSE.
JACK (V.O.)
You give up the condo life, give up all your flaming worldly possessions, go live in a dilapidated house in the toxic waste part of town...
INT. PAPER ST. HOUSE ENTRANCE - SAME
Jack walks in. SOUNDS of VIOLENT SEX and a POLAROID CAMERA from upstairs. Pieces of PLASTER fall from the ceiling.
JACK (V.O.)
...and you have to come home to this.
INT. PAPER ST. HOUSE - KITCHEN - MORNING
Jack is without pants. He runs water in the sink, and scrubs at the blood stains with a tooth-brush. The PHONE RINGS. Marla and Tyler's voices are still HEARD. Jack answers it.
JACK
Hello?
INTERCUT WITH...
INT. POLICE STATION - OFFICE
A cop, DETECTIVE STERN, refers to a file.
DETECTIVE STERN
Yes. This is Detective Stern with the arson unit. We have some new information about the "incident" at your former condo.
Marla and Tyler cannot be heard now.
JACK
Yes?
DETECTIVE STERN
I don't know if you're aware -- but is seems that someone sprayed freon into your front door lock, then tapped it with a chisel to shatter the cylinder.
JACK
No, I wasn't aware of that at all.
JACK (V.O.)
I am Jack's Cold Sweat.
DETECTIVE STERN
Does this sound strange to you?
JACK
Uh, yes sir, strange, very strange.
Jack starts to sweat.
DETECTIVE STERN
The dynamite...
JACK
Dynamite?
DETECTIVE STERN
...left a residue of ammonium oxalate and potassium per chloride. Do you know what this means?
JACK
No, what does it mean?
DETECTIVE STERN
It means it was homemade.
JACK
I'm sorry...this is just coming as quite a shock to me, sir...
DETECTIVE STERN
See, whoever set this homemade dynamic could've blown out the pilot light days before the actual explosion. The gas was just a detonator.
JACK
Who could've done such a thing?
DETECTIVE STERN
I'll ask the questions.
TYLER
(whispering in Jack's ear)
Tell him...
Jack almost leaps out his skin, startled; looks to see Tyler standing right next to him.
TYLER
(overlap w/below)
"Tell him the liberator who destroyed my property has re-aligned my paradigm of perception".
DETECTIVE STERN
Excuse me, are you there?
JACK
I am listening, but it's a little hard to know what to make of all this.
DETECTIVE STERN
Have you recently made enemies with anyone who might have access to homemade dynamite?
JACK
Enemies?
TYLER
"I reject the basic assumptions of civilization, especially the importance of material possession!"
Jack cups the receiving.
DETECTIVE STERN
Son, this is serious.
JACK
I know it's serious.
DETECTIVE STERN
I mean that.
JACK
Yes, it's very serious. Look, nobody takes this more seriously than me, the condo was my life! Okay? I loved every stick of furniture in that place. That was not just a bunch of stuff that got destroyed, it was me!
JACK (V.O.)
I'd like to thank the Academy...
DETECTIVE STERN
Isn't this a not good time for you?
TYLER
Tell him you fuckin' did it!
JACK
(to Tyler)
Shhh!
TYLER
Tell him you blew it off! That's what he wants to hear.
Tyler goes upstairs
DETECTIVE STERN
Are you still there?
JACK
Wait. Are you saying that I'm a suspect?!
DETECTIVE STERN
No, no. I may have to talk to you a little further, how about let me know if you leave town, okay?
JACK
Okay.
Jacks hangs up. Jack turns away continues to scrub his pants. Marla's FOOTSTEPS can be HEARD coming downstairs...Jack really grinds the soap against the pants, splashing water. He turns, sees Marla enter. Marla lights a cigarette.
JACK (V.O.)
Except for their humping, Tyler and Marla were never in the same room. My parents pulled this exact act for years.
MARLA
The condom is the glass slipper of our generation. You slip it on when you meet a stranger. You...dance all night...and then you throw it away! The condom, I mean. Not the stranger.
Marla chuckles.
JACK
What?
MARLA
I got this dress at a thrift store for $1.
JACK
It was worth every penny.
MARLA
(seductive)
It's a bridesmaid's dress. Someone loved it intensely for one day, then tossed it.
Marla moves very close to Jack.
MARLA
Like a Christmas tree -- so special, then....
Jack becomes very aware of having no pants on, presses against the counter. Marla pulls her hemline further up. She leans in very close to Jack's ear, whispers hoarsely:
MARLA
(CONTINUED)
...bam -- it's on the side of the road, tinsel still clinging to it...Like sex crime victims, underwear inside-out, bound with electrical tape.
JACK
(coldly)
Well, then it suits you.
MARLA
You can borrow it sometime.
Marla backs away going UPSTAIRS.
TYLER (O.S.)
Get rid of her.
Jack turns to see Tyler going UPSTAIRS.
JACK
Why can't you get rid of her?
TYLER
Don't mention me.
Marla's FOOTSTEPS are coming DOWNSTAIRS. Jack looks to the archway, then back at -- Tyler's GONE. Marla enters looking for something on the junk strewn table.
JACK (V.O.)
I'm six years old again, passing messages between my parents.
JACK
I really think it's time you got out of here.
Marla ignores, still searching table, tossing things, pushing other things to the floor.
MARLA
Don't worry I'm leaving.
JACK
Not like we don't love your little visit.
Marla finds what she wanted, a pack of cigarettes. She move up into Jack's face.
MARLA
You're such a nutcase, I can't even begin to keep up.
As she exits the door, she sings "This Merry-Go-Round" from "Valley of the Dolls." Jack watches her trough the kitchen window.
JACK
Thanks, bye.
Jack turns. Tyler is behind him, chuckling.
TYLER
You kids...
JACK
Wh--Why do you still waste time with her?
TYLER
I'll say this about Marla: At least she's trying to hit bottom.
JACK
What, and I'm not?
TYLER
Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken.
People seemed to like yesterday's post quite a bit. I like it too. Great stuff. Breaker breaker, what's your 20?
My father worked in construction
it's not something for which I'm suited
oh, what is something for which you are suited
getting out of here
I hate being odd in a small town
if they stare let them stare in New York City
as this pink eyed painting albino
how far can my fantasy go
I'm no Dali coming from Pittsburgh
no adorable lisping Capote
my hero, oh, do you think I could meet him
I'd camp out at his front door
There is only one good thing about small town
there is only one good use for a small town
there is only one good thing about small town
you know that you want to get out
When you're growing up in a small town
you know you'll grow down in a small town
there is only one good use for a small town
You hate it and you'll know you have to leave
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