Baked in Brooklyn Page #6

and makes me feel satisfied

with myself, you know?

Even if there are

occasional hiccups.

- This whole entire

thing is a hiccup.

We used to, like, spend time

together like normal people.

Like, we would go out

and do things

and do activities,

and now I spend more time

with your roommate,

sitting on that disgusting couch

in your living room,

than I do with you.

- Come on,

seriously, I mean,

we have nice conversations,

and you teach me things

all the time.

- When I first met you,

I felt curious about you,

and I felt connected

to you in a way

that I haven't felt

with anybody else before.

You have a lot of ideas,

and some of them are great,

like selling hummus

in squeeze bottles.

- Great for sandwiches.

- It's brilliant!

But, like, I don't

know what to do.

Like, I can't do this anymore

if you're not gonna

be here with me at all.

- Okay, okay.

Can we make a deal?

- It depends what it is.

- I will try to be more here,

like, way more here,

if you can try

to be more okay

with what I'm doing

when I'm not here.

- I don't know.

I guess we could try it.

- Let's try it.

- Okay.

- Now, do you want to hear

some good news

about a possible thing

that might happen?

One of my customers is gonna try

to set me up with a writing job.

It's something.

I'm sorry.

- What are you doing on Thursday

at 7:
00?

- Whatever you want.

Why?

- I want you to take me

to dinner.

You've neglected me for,

like, over two months,

and now you have

to make it up to me.

- Well, then

you'd better get ready,

'cause you're gonna

have, like, so much dinner,

like, more dinner than, like,

you're even gonna know

what to do with.

I mean, it's gonna be,

like, 14 courses.

There's gonna be amuse-bouches

and aperitifs and digestifs.

All the "tifs" are gonna

be well-represented.

- Okay.

- And I really am sorry.

- Thank you.

- Hey, it's me.

I just have one more stop

to make, and then I'll be there.

So probably like 8:45.

[elevator bell dings]

[knocks on door]

[man squealing]

- Hello.

- I have your delivery.

- Well, come on in.

[club music]

Let me see the sh*t.

What's this one called?

- It's Candy Apple.

- Candy Apple, Candy Apple.

I've smoked Swansea,

Blue Haze,

Jack Frost, Lowrider,

Wonderberry,

Misty,

Iceberry Blue,

JFK.

I even smoked Horse Sh*t

with my grandma.

Don't do that.

This any good?

- Yeah, it's great.

It's 40 for the two.

- Is this a gram each?

'Cause it looks like maybe

.8, .9.

- Yeah, no,

they're 20s, not grams.

We're not in Europe, dude.

- [laughs]

We're not in Europe.

- God bless America.

- Let's get f***ed up.

- I have somewhere to be,

actually, so enjoy.

- Oh, oh, got some girls coming.

- Yeah, I should probably just--

- Well, I got these.

- What are those?

- I don't know.

[soft piano music]

[mellow electronic music]

- F***.

F***.

[melancholy acoustic guitar

music]

- Nobody home

Feeling alone

That's when they show

Don't let 'em in

Would be a sin

Again and again

For the rest of my life

Ooh

See

I've been thinking a lot

Trying not to change

Please

Stay

Oh, I'm all messed up

Just help me find a way

- Do you have the two eighths?

- Have you heard anything

about the job yet?

- Yeah, I don't think

it looks good.

They just hired

a couple of people.

- Did you show your boss

my blog?

- Yeah.

Yeah, it was great.

It was really interesting stuff.

He said it just wasn't, like,

the same thing that we do.

- I can do other stuff.

It's not like the ability

to write about real estate

is, like, an inborn

characteristic, you know?

I mean, I could learn how

to--

- Do you have the plants?

- Of course.

But do you see what

I'm saying about the--

- Can I just have them?

Christmas!

- Thanks.

- Later.

- See you.

[both speaking Spanish]

- Oh, sh*t, a cop.

- Where you going?

- F***!

F***, was you watching me, man?

- You had me, huh?

- F***ing bullshit, man.

- Hey, man,

leave them boys alone, now.

What you doing, man?

Them boys--hey!

Legalize it, pavilar!

- Have you talked to her yet?

- Yeah, I sent her some

texts and emails,

including one

which I wrote entirely

from the perspective

of the "mailer demon," so...

- Wait, what's the mailer demon?

- You know that thing

that, you know,

sends you an email

when you send an email

to an address

that doesn't exist.

It bounces it back

to you, you know,

and then it says "Mailer Demon"

at the top in all caps.

What?

- I'm pretty sure

that's called Mailer-Daemon.

- Mailer-Daemon?

That's--I don't even

think that's a word.

Wouldn't it be demon?

What's a daemon?

- I don't know.

I've never really actually

heard someone say Mailer-Daemon

or mailer demon out loud,

so you might actually be right.

So has she replied back

to your email or...

- Oh, yeah, I'll show you.

She sent me this sweet pic

of a middle finger made out of,

like, backslashes and stuff.

- That's creative.

- She really spent a lot

of time on it,

and she's clearly

thinking about me,

so I feel like it's just

a matter of time now.

- Come on, we're good.

- Yeah, no, it's--

- Hey, maybe--you know what?

Maybe you should just

relax on her.

- Oh, come on, man,

look how happy these guys are.

They're drinking the same stuff.

I feel like we're all gonna

be all smiles pretty soon here.

[electronic chiming]

Hey, what's--

- Did you turn Ace in?

- What?

- Did you turn Ace in?

He got arrested.

- What? Holy sh*t!

- 'Cause he thinks

you turned him in.

Now he's looking for you.

- What? Why?

- 'Cause he saw you, like,

a minute before he got

arrested,

and then afterwards, he tried

to call you to ask about it,

and you didn't answer.

Like, why didn't you answer?

- I don't know.

I didn't see his call.

I must've missed it.

What are you talking about?

Wait, did you tell him

where I live?

- I mean, I told him

the cross streets,

but I didn't tell him

your address.

I didn't even know

why he was asking until, like,

after I already told him.

Like, I'm sorry.

- Oh, f***.

Do you think he's gonna tell

the cops about me or something?

- I mean, I don't think

that's really his style.

Like, I don't think he would,

but you're,

like, a tiny fish

to them anyway, so...

- What is his style?

- [groans softly]

[ominous music]

Sh*t. Sh*t.

- Do you go to school?

- Don't ask me personal sh*t,

man.

You're a f***ing drug dealer.

Drug dealers don't talk

about personal sh*t.

They talk about benign sh*t

or don't talk.

- Yeah, I just--

- Yeah.

[buzzing]

[buzz]

Were you just doing that

for free weed?

It's okay if you were.

Like, I won't be offended, but--

F***!

F***!

F***!

Sh*t!

God f***ing--f***!

- Hey, yo, cuz, what up?

- Man, take it.

Everything's in there.

Ace, man, listen.

Ace, man, I didn't say

anything to anyone.

I swear, man.

Why would I do that?

I wouldn't f***ing--

Ace, man, please.

Please.

- It's all right.

- Ugh!

- Get the f*** out of here.

You got something for me?

Little b*tch.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes