Being Flynn Page #2

be a writer.

Yeah?

Dad is a writer, right?

Ha!

What makes you

think that?

It says right here. It says,

"Work on my novel is going well.

"I shall soon

win the Nobel Prize

"for both storytelling

and poetry.

"No fear."

You know where that

letter was written from?

Prison.

Mmm-hmm.

Why is he in prison again?

Interstate transportation

of stolen securities.

What is that?

He cashed

forged checks.

He stole thousands

and thousands of dollars.

Do you know how much

of that we have seen?

Zero.

Zilch.

Zippo.

Nothing.

Nada.

Niente.

Have you seen my

baseball glove?

If it were up your ass,

you would know where it was.

(CHUCKLES)

(DOOR OPENING)

Well? Gonna come in?

Pleasure to see you, Nicholas,

aside from the circumstances.

NICK:
What are

the circumstances?

The circumstances are

that I had a disagreement

with my scum-sucking landlord.

I don't know why.

And so he decided to bring the

police into the discussion.

So now I'm forced

to move.

Move where?

I'm considering my options. I'm

a sought-after house guest.

You know why?

No.

Because I'm

an excellent raconteur.

But until I find

a new place,

I have to put all my

things in storage.

Hey. So I'm not bringing

the gun in my truck.

What?

The shotgun.

Shotgun?

Uh, yeah. You said

you had a shotgun.

A shotgun? Who said that?

I abhor firearms.

I mean, don't get me

wrong, I can defend myself.

Let me just...

You see this?

Yes.

Anyone messes with

me when I'm driving

or walking down

the street, whatever.

Bamo! Right in the head. It sends a

little message, let me tell you.

I'd like to take

that scumbag landlord,

and I'd like to ram it

right up his ass.

This landlord, this merchant,

this f***ing user...

Hey, that is great. Would

you mind putting that away?

I'd like to

take this and...

Please? ...ram it

up his f***ing ass,

twist it around,

pull it down,

rip out his innards and

f***ing pull them out.

You get the

f***ing picture.

That was my

first wife, Jody.

I know who it is.

She was my mother.

I know she was

your mother.

She was the most beautiful

woman in the world.

She was the

love of my life.

She was the

light of my love.

I know if she was still alive

today, we'd be together.

Such a tragic accident.

What accident?

The accident that

cut her life short.

It wasn't an accident.

She left a note.

Did it mention me?

No.

Ah.

Not much of a letter

writer, your mother.

All right, Nicholas.

Why don't we get started.

You can just take all this

stuff and throw it in a box.

The paintings

be careful of.

Especially this one and that

one, and that one on the wall.

Be careful of all this stuff.

It's all valuable.

Nicholas, I want you

to have this.

This is an original

Jackson Pollock.

He was a friend.

Oh, no.

I couldn't.

No, I want you to have it.

Okay, thanks.

Are you going to help move

this stuff, since it's yours?

I wish I could, but I suffer from

lethal phlebitis in both legs.

You be careful with those boxes.

There's manuscripts.

Manuscripts.

Those are your friends?

I guess. Yeah.

A homosexual and

a black pothead?

Well, good luck to you.

Well, I have to

get to work now.

Do you mind just locking the

padlock when you're finished?

Yeah. Wait.

So you drive a taxi?

Well, it's an excellent

way of learning

about all different

kinds of people.

And what is

your vocation?

My vocation? Uh...

I've done lots

of different jobs.

I always thought you'd end up

a writer, like your old man.

Actually, I do write. You

know, sometimes. I try.

Well, there is no such

thing as trying to write.

One writes,

or one doesn't.

You have to take every opportunity

to practice your craft.

Anyway, I know you have inherited

some writing talent from me,

because I am

a truly great writer.

I'm going to

show you something.

I have a letter

from Viking Press.

You've heard of Viking

Press, haven't you?

Yeah.

Look at this. Look

at that phrase there.

"Your book is a virtuoso

display of personality.

"Unfortunately, its dosage would kill

hardier readers than we have here."

"Virtuoso display,"

Viking Press.

Well, it's been a great

pleasure, Nicholas.

Well, hey, uh...

All right.

You need anything?

Aside from the Pollock?

No.

All right. Well,

au revoir, then.

You're welcome.

Don't mention it.

Your father's

a nightmare.

What's that?

(LAUGHS)

It's a f***ing

Jackson Pollock painting.

Jackson Pollock?

Jesus!

Hmm.

Pollock spelled his name

wrong when he signed it.

NICK:
So then he

gives me a gift,

a Jackson Pollock painting.

Which, like an a**hole,

I think is real.

So after 18 years

of wondering,

here's what I learned

about my father.

He's a racist, he's a homophobe,

and he's f***ing crazy.

Can you reach him?

I mean, if you wanted to?

I don't know that I ever want

to see him again. Really.

I don't know how

I feel about it.

I can't really

locate what I feel.

Is that why you

called me?

To help you locate

your feelings?

Do you want to get out of here?

You look beautiful.

None of that.

We're friends now.

We're friends?

Yeah.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I

enjoyed sleeping with you, but...

Thank you.

I told you I didn't

want a relationship.

So, now we're friends.

Okay. Well, thanks

for letting me know.

You're welcome.

You should think about

working at Harbor Street.

Why?

Well, I was in kind

of a f***ed state,

mentally, when

I started there.

Um, yeah, just,

I like working there.

Tell me about

your f***ed state.

Do you want another

one of these?

All right?

Hey, how are you?

How's it going?

How did you hear

about this job?

A friend of mine,

Denise, works here.

Okay.

So what makes you want to

work with the homeless?

I don't know. Uh...

I mean, we are put on this Earth

to help other people, right?

Someone I knew

told me that.

Who?

Who? No one. Uh...

Look, I guess I just see

homeless people everywhere.

It seems like there

is more and more.

Seems like it.

I guess I just want a job that,

you know, means something.

Something where I don't despise

myself when I come home from work.

So you despise yourself?

I don't know. Uh, sure.

Doesn't everyone?

I don't despise myself.

I used to be

a guest here.

Then I worked here.

I had a permanent bed.

And then I moved out.

I got a job in construction,

became the foreman.

Then one day I came back

here to give something back.

So I've come

a long way up,

but it's a quick

fall down.

So I really can't

afford to hate myself.

You know what

I'm talking about?

You don't know what

I'm talking about.

But that's okay.

Tell you what. I can put

you on the fill-in list.

If we need somebody

to fill in, we'll call.

Thanks.

Hey, so why do they

call you Captain?

Because I'm the Captain.

Okay.

IVAN:
Just bring it

by right now.

Okay, later.

Hey, they called

from Harbor Street Inn.

They want you to

fill in tonight.

Tonight?

NICK:
There were different types

of people who worked there.

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