A Broken Life Page #2

l became a proofreader.

lmagine that.

A f***in' foot servant of the literati.

Okay. The last 20 years

of my life have been

a blur of disappointment

and endless repetition

punctuated only by Carla

leaving me.

Now you'd think that would have

woken me up, but no.

l stayed asleep until now.

But today l am finally awake.

- Now what?

- Let's go.

Outside? Okay.

Here you go. Come on.

l want to show you something.

Turn it off.

Yeah, we're not

gonna need it out here.

- What are you doing?

- Extra batteries, you got 'em?

Okay, good.

- Hey, you want this?

- Huh?

l don't need your car, Max.

What? My car just isn't

hip enough for you, is it, Buddy?

No. A Mercedes SUV.

lt's all the b*tch left me,

come on.

- l said l don't want it.

- Fine, f*** it. Okay.

Hey! Hey, man. Hey, boys.

( hip-hop music playing )

You see how the world is?

Violence is everywhere.

This is not a good-- Max--

Oh no, man. You're not gonna need that.

Not with me, man.

You see that car?

lt's for you.

What the f***'s going on, man?

lt's not important.

l just don't need it anymore, okay?

- ( c*cks )

- Hey, listen, son!

l'm just trying to give you

a motherfucking car, man. Be cool.

- What?

- Tell him to turn that off.

- lt's off.

- No, hey!

- Turn off the f***ing camera now!

- Shut the f*** up!

lf he doesn't, what are you gonna do?

You gonna kill him too?

Listen, son.

l'm just trying to give you a car.

My car.

lf you don't want it, fine.

F*** yourself.

But l need to tell you something.

You're dealing with a man

who has absolutely

nothing left to lose.

You know what they say?

They say reactions

are the last thing to go.

Kinda makes you wonder,

doesn't it?

So here we are.

( whistling )

Huh? Huh?!

Here we are!

Mexican standoff.

Huh?

What's it gonna be?

Look, be cool, man.

Diplomacy.

You can walk away

with a Merc.

Or...

my face might be

the last one you ever see.

What do you say?

Do yourself a favor.

Be cool.

Here you go.

Allow me.

Hang on, hang on, hang on.

Oh. Excuse me.

lf you wouldn't mind,

my wife's gloves.

Here, l want to burn these, okay?

Keep them for me.

( car starts )

Bye-bye.

Did you get that?

Did you shoot that sh*t?

- Did you--

- l was filming!

- l was filming the whole time!

- That was brilliant cinema.

- That was--

- My f***ing liberation has begun.

My liberation has begun.

And this is the world l'm leaving!

You really gonna drink all those?

( grunts )

Every last one.

Think you should be relying on

Dutch courage on such an important day?

Dutch courage--

l'm impressed.

But a very unpleasant term,

Buddy. Huh?

Coined by the British

in the 17th century,

first used by the Royal Navy

in their disagreements

with the Dutch East

lndia Company.

An obscure fact--

and l'm full of 'em, man.

l suppose what you're really

asking me is if l'm brave enough

to finish out my plan.

And you know what?

lt's a very silly question.

l have never been brave enough

to do or finish anything

unaided, okay?

lt's just something

to steady my resolve.

Steady my resolve.

Nothing more.

You know, help me finish

something l started.

Finish something, man,

for the first time in my life.

Okay?

Just think of me as a poet or--

l'm a rock star.

Say, um-- Coleridge

or Kurt Cobain

doing their best work

under the influence.

So your best work is gonna be...

blowing your own head off?

Eureka. You're beginning

to understand.

Let's not talk about this

anymore, okay?

Please.

Just messing around.

l think l may have had

a little too much of that,

whatever it's called--

dark courage.

- Dutch--

- Dutch courage.

Yeah, you have.

What are you doing?

Follow me.

What?

l'm not going in there.

Oh, come on,

don't be such a baby.

This is the grit.

Come on, Bud, this is art.

This-- this is art.

Come on, boy.

Courage! Courage!

l've had enough, Max.

Enough of what?

What are you talking about?

l am not gonna film you

taking a piss.

Why not?

lt's cinema verite.

And who did that?

- Jean Cocteau.

- Okay, great.

Go take a piss.

This is what-- hey, Bud.

This is what you need

to get that scholarship to NYU.

Oh, so you taking a piss

is what l need?

Cocteau's what l need?

l can get a scholarship on my own, Max.

l don't need a f***ing trick.

Bullshit.

You need a ''Blair Witch.''

- Yeah, you do.

- No.

And you're not it.

Hey, look, it's not about talent.

Buddy, it's not about talent.

lt's about business.

And l just remembered,

you're a filmmaker

so you couldn't possibly be

a real artist anyway.

- F*** you.

- What?

You're a f***ing coward.

- Stop it.

- You were never

gonna go through with this.

Gonna kill yourself?

What a f***ing joke.

You've wasted

enough of my day, Max.

Bud, Bud, Bud, look.

l'm sorry-- l'm sorry l said that stuff.

l'm sorry l said that stuff.

Come on, Bud.

- Yeah?

- l didn't mean it!

Come on, relax.

Just relax, Bud.

- l'm out of here.

- l was just kidding around.

Come on! F***!

Buddy, l'm sorry l said that stuff.

Why did l say that stuff?

God!

F***.

( flushes )

Shh.

( grunting )

( water running )

( gasps )

Come on! Come on!

lt's a shakedown.

lt's a shakedown, for sure.

- What?

- Shh.

- You said it was cool, man.

- Okay okay.

We're like rats in a trap here.

Okay?

Frank, you gotta trust me.

- l'm not gonna get f***in' arrested.

- Okay. Shh.

We gotta rush him.

Okay?

We're gonna rush him.

On three, okay?

- One...

- F***in' towels.

...two...

three.

( grunting )

Hey! Hey!

Max! Max!

Oh!

Jesus Christ.

( mutters )

Bud.

What-- what are you doing here?

- You came back, huh?

- You scared the hell out of me.

l want to go.

l just want to go.

- You believe that sh*t, man?

- No.

Can't take a piss

in this f***ing town

without having your

f***ing life threatened.

F*** it, man. That's it.

l'm just gonna, you know, just

cut to the chase.

l'm gonna tell the story crystal clear

so even the dumbest f***er

on earth can understand it.

All right, so,

let's start with my childhood.

Or what l remember of it.

Martin Luther King,

Vietnam, Watergate,

that's what my childhood was.

Murder and men on the moon.

And then as a teenager

l was paralyzed.

l was addicted to television.

Listen to this.

l wanted to be a writer...

but l didn't want to write.

l wanted someone else

to write it--

write it down for me

and then give it to me,

polished and finished,

you know what l mean?

That's why l hooked up with Billy.

You know,

Jesus, l mean, he's the one

who did all that beautiful work.

He did all the beautiful drawings.

- My words were just filler.

- Oh no. ''Blood Sugar.''

That was my favorite one.

His work was never as good

after he dumped you.

- Dumped me?

- You know what l mean.

l'm sorry, man.

Wrong choice of--

Forget it, forget it.

You know what? You're right.

And he was right to dump me.

- l was holding him back.

- No way.

l learned to take comfort

in the routine.

l figured if you didn't rock the boat,

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