Angry Angel Page #3

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- I get it.

- Right?

- I get it.

- Gandhi, Lincoln--FYI,

they run Heaven.

- Oh, well, tell me more.

- I don't know.

I messed up.

I took all of that perfection

for granted,

and it wasn't until

I came back down here

that I realized how good

I had it up there.

- Leonard?

- Yes.

- Your order's up.

- Thank you so much.

- Do you think I'll ever

get up there?

- Not a chance.

I'm-I'm just saying.

Hey, you--

I've seen a lot of angels

get to Heaven,

and the ones that get up there

are the ones

who really want to.

- [scoffs sharply]

What does that mean?

I mean, of course

I want to get up there.

I'm really bad at my job...

- [laughs]

I've kept distance

from everyone.

No real relationships,

no real friends--

Well, except you...

I guess.

- "I guess"?

Look, you don't

show initiative.

That's your problem.

You don't!

Okay, tell me:

when's the last time

you did a miracle on your own,

without the app?

Uh-huh.

See?

Stuff like that

gets noticed.

The Universe,

the guys upstairs,

they're looking for you

to prove something.

And you'd know this if you

attended any of the meetings.

- There are meetings?

- Pyke, you're so bad at this.

[indistinct voice over PA]

- 11th Street Station.

Transfers available for

the J, M, and Z lines.

- Oh! Ma'am!

- Oh--

- I think you dropped this.

- Thank you so much.

- Aw, you're welcome.

I find it's the little gestures

like this

that really add up in the end.

- You're a real angel.

- [laughs]

- Two points?

Ugh, damn it.

[AlunaGeorge's

"Turn Up The Love"]

Hey, Barker.

What are you up to?

Uh-huh.

Uh-huh.

Really?

Listen, I'm just gonna

interrupt you

and get to the point:

I'm coming over.

See you in 30.

- What's up

on the other side?

Is it greener?

Is it better?

- Thanks.

- [exhales]

I needed that.

I kind of had a tough day.

It feels good to hang out

with a friend.

- [chuckles] Oh, yeah?

Is that what we are?

'Cause your last ten texts

to me just say, "you up?"

- [chuckles] Look, I care about

you in a non-romantic way.

That's what I'd call a friend.

- All right.

Let me ask you a question.

- Mm.

- What's my first name?

- Some new stakes,

some new stones

- I want to say...Colton.

- Mm, nope.

It's James.

- Oh.

Okay then, James.

Ah, nope.

It's weird.

Barker, you, uh...

you mind if I stay over?

It's coming down

pretty hard out there.

- Really?

- Mm-hmm.

- Wow.

Somebody finally wants

to sleep over.

- Don't make a big deal

about it.

And please,

do not spoon me.

The last thing I need

is you draped over my back

like a meat blanket.

- Nope, nothing romantic.

Just a couple friends

sharing the same bed

that they just had sex in.

Night, Pyke.

- Night, Barker.

I know this afterlife thing

seems like a pretty good deal.

I get to eat whatever I want,

live in New York,

have great sex, be hot.

You know, but it gets old

after a while.

You know, I feel like

I'm...stuck,

but stuck forever.

You know, I can't have a life,

because I'm trying to leave,

and that can happen

at any moment.

I also can't have a life

because...

technically, I'm dead.

The rule is, you can't

contact anyone

from your old life--

no one.

Parents, siblings, friends.

Like, I can't see them,

I can't ask how they're doing.

They can't know about

any of this.

If I contact anyone,

I lose all of my points.

I can't see my husband.

I can't call Patrick

and be like, "Don't be sad.

I have a waitress job

and great hair, so I'm fine."

Like, I'm not supposed to,

but I check up on Facebook.

Most angels aren't on Facebook,

so I haven't gotten caught.

[touching piano music]

[inhales deeply, sniffs]

Man, this girl likes

a lot of soup.

- Huh?

What soup?

[birds tweeting,

dog barking]

Aww, hey, sleepyhead.

Time to wake up.

- [murmurs]

- I made you

a little breakfast.

- Well, thank you.

- Yeah.

Yeah, the eggs are

totally organic--

locally and ethically

raised hens,

so, we're good.

- Oh, great.

Wow--never seen your bedroom

in the daylight before.

What's with all this

Parisian crap?

- Do you really want to know,

or are you just

gonna make fun of me?

- No, we are having

a real conversation.

I'm taking it seriously.

- Hm.

Okay.

Well, it's always been a dream

of mine to go to France.

- Why would I make fun of that?

Just because you share

the same dream

as every

basic 12-year-old girl.

[giggles] Do you also dream

of holding hands

with Harry Styles and

brushing your horse's mane?

- Oh, see, see, see?

I knew it.

I knew you couldn't be nice to

me for more than five seconds.

- Oh, I can be nicer to you

for a lot longer than that.

- Nope.

I gotta save my strength

for my morning run to Maspeth.

- You are gonna leave me

and this warm bed

to go running around

some abandoned buildings

in the snow?

- Yeah.

I like to run

where I can have some space

to think.

It's what I do.

[phone chimes]

- Hmm...

oh, looks like

I have to go too.

I'm trying this new strategy of

showing some ambition at work.

- Oh, that'll make

Connie happy.

- Oh, God--not at the bistro.

You know, I told you--

at my other job--you know,

the one that's getting me

closer to, uh...Nebraska.

- Hey, so while

you're swallowing

that breakfast whole

like a duck,

there's something that

I want to talk to you about.

- Mm-hmm.

- I'm cooking

a little Christmas

dinner tonight

for a few friends--

preparing everything fresh,

even the eggnog.

Now,

my homemade eggnog recipe

is the best.

It's the perfect ratio

of rum to nog.

- Mmm.

- Anyway,

it would mean a lot to me

if you were there.

- Barker, this was delicious,

but I told you before,

my schedule at this other job

is very demanding.

It's a lot of work

to get to Nebraska.

I just--I can't make

plans like that.

I'm sorry.

- I think it wouldn't be

that hard to get to Nebraska.

- Ugh, believe me,

it's nearly impossible.

- Look, just promise me

whenever you do leave,

you'll talk to me first.

- Promise.

Bye, Barker.

[door slams closed]

[determined music]

Hi--oh, my God,

the memories.

- What?

- I lived in this exact room.

I didn't decorate it with quite

as many old bowls

of cereal, but...

- Who are you?

- I'm Allison, class of '99.

You look like a...smart guy.

Are you perhaps working

on an important project

on your computer?

Something big, maybe?

Bigger than Facebook

or Candy Crush?

Something the world

desperately needs?

- How did you know?

- You have that air about you.

[awkward

string-plucking music]

You know,

when I was back in school,

I accidentally fried

my computer?

You know, you really should

get a surge protector.

Problem solved.

Six points?

I thought you said

you were working on something

that the world needed.

- I am.

It's a love song.

- I am so angry right now,

I think I might throw up.

- Yo, Pyke, what's good?

[horn honks, carolers sing]

Hey!

Oh, no, you can't park here.

You got to keep going.

Thank you so much.

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