Best Laid Plans

[Fire Crackling]

[Patsy Cline Playing]

OK, another...|Charles Eppker.

Charles... Charles|is a large fellow.

Played football.

People called him|''Chunky.''

That's right.

He still plays--

back-up center|in the Canadian league.

All this remember-when,|where-are-they-now sh*t.

That was college.

Can we please talk|about something else?

You know what?|I had a thought.

Sh*t. No.

Yes. Last night I was|reading The History

of Twentieth Century|America in your honor.

Whose, Manchester's?

No. Big thick text|by...

Schlessinger.|Halberston.

I'm not going to|remember.

Well, authors' names|don't really matter

in your trade, anyway,|do they?

I work in the English|department.

We deal in fiction.

I can tell the little|shits any name I like.

Your thought?

Oh, yes. Right.|I was reading 1 960s

sexual revolution free|love wife-swapping--

sort of like|an after-dinner,

free-spirit parlor game.

The husbands used to|throw their key chains

onto the table,|mix them up,

then the wives would all|pick them up blindly.

Buddies f***ing|each other's wives,

et cetera, et cetera.

Now think when|our parents were born.

OK, now, think|when we were born.

We could be the offspring|of a key chain adultery.

You get it? We may not|be our fathers' sons.

Oh, it gives me hope,|anyway.

Waitress:
Two more 7 and 7 s.

Jesus, another round?

Thank you.

I haven't finished|this one yet.

Thank you.

To your first month|in Tropico.

Stay hydrated.

Everybody sucks but us.

[Sirens]

Man:
Oh, I have|a joke for you.

There's this elephant|in the jungle,

and he's got a thorn|caught in his foot.

This mouse wanders by.|Elephant stops him

and says, '' Hey,|I'll give you anything

if you take the thorn|out of my foot.''

[Groaning]

[Telephone Ringing]

Hi. How'd it go?

Man:
Nick, I--I--|Nick, can you do me a favor?

Bryce?

Can you come over here?|Yeah, it's me.

I know it's late,|but I need you to--

Yeah. No.|I was expecting--

Well, it-- it's me.|I got a problem over here.

I got--|I got a serious--

OK. Can it wait?|Because it's after--

Can't wait.|I need a friend to talk to.

Look, I'm in big|f***ing sh*t!

OK.

Please. Please, Nick.

OK.

[Tearful]|Thanks, buddy. Bye.

Bye.

[Firemen Shouting]

How'd this happen?

Ah, brush fire season.

The slightest thing will|spark one of these off.

You want to take a left|here and proceed slowly

up towards the right,|all right? Drive safe.

Thanks.

[Firemen Shouting]

[Knock On Door]

[Beeping]

Oh, sh*t.

Morning.

Hey.

Jesus, you look|like I feel.

Well, I feel|like it, too.

You want a beer?

All I've got|is domestic sh*t.

That'll be fine.

Thanks.

These people you're sitting for,|they keep a lovely home.

So, you want to tell me|why I'm here?

I got laid tonight.

How wonderful for you.

No.

I didn't bring you here|at 2:00 a.m.

for bragging rights, OK?|Because if I tell you this,

you got to make sure

you're not going|to tell anybody,

that it stays between us.|OK, Nick? OK?

The girl that|we met at the bar?

- Katie?|- No. Kathy.

Oh, boy. What happened?

You left. She and I--|we talked for a while.

You know,|she bought me a round.

And then she asked|if I wanted to leave,

and so we came here.

So we starting making out.|She initiated it.

She did this funny thing|with her hand.

And she was kissing me,|like squeezing my jaw.

Bryce, broad strokes.|Broad strokes.

Sorry. Sorry.

It's like I blinked,|and we were naked.

And then I, uh...|We did it.

Yeah?

Afterwards, she went|to the bathroom.

Couple minutes,|came out,

asked if I had|any vitamin C.

- What?|- Yeah.

So I went upstairs,|and I found some,

and I came back down.

And she had called|a cab

and said|she was going home,

and that|when she got there,

she was going to|call the police

and file rape charges|against me.

She says I raped her,|Nick.

Bryce, is there|any truth to this?

No. I'm sorry

because I haven't seen|you since college

and suddenly I lay|all this sh*t on you.

Is there any truth|to what she's saying?

I don't--|I don't think so.

You don't think so,|or you know so?

Listen,|I was pretty drunk,

and I can't f***ing|remember

if she tried to stop|anything.

But she says she did.

Are you just hazy on this,|or were you--

No. It's a mix.

I was in and out|during the act.

I don't remember!

Well, you don't seem|very drunk right now.

Well, a chick|accusing you of rape

will sober you up|just like that.

Jesus.

I don't know.|Maybe--

Maybe she won't|go through with it.

Otherwise, I don't know|what to tell you, Bryce.

Sit tight,|for Christ's sake.

Whatever you do, don't|tell anyone about this--

not now, not ever.

What?

Oh, f***.

Oh, Nick,|I really f***ed up!

Bryce?

You know, Nick,|can you talk to her?

Just tell her|it was an accident.

F***! I hate to lay|this sh*t on you.

Hey. Hey. Shh.|Calm down, OK?

Hey. The girl is gone.

There's nothing|we can do. OK?

No.

Come on, Bryce.

No! She's not gone!

She's downstairs!

God. She's downstairs.

This is going to look|worse than it is.

See, after she said|what she said, after

what she was|going to do, I--

See, Nick,|I didn't hit her.

All I did was grab her|and drag her,

and then, coming down|the stairs, she fell...

Where are the lights?

Over on the wall.

What the f***|are you doing?

I, um, well, uh, I need|to think through this.

Not what are you|thinking,

what the f***|are you doing?

How long has she|been down here?

I'm not sure

because my sense of time|is all f***ed up.

Guess.

Um, I dragged her down,|and I tried to talk to her,

and I called you.|Maybe half an hour?

You didn't touch|her after that?

No, Nick, I swear|I didn't touch her.

[Crying Softly]

Bryce:
Nick--

No!Just--Just|hold on a minute. Um...

But, Nick--

Oh, f***!

[Kathy Crying]

Nick, come on.|It's not my place.

Goddamn it, Bryce.

Look, I'm sorry, Nick.|When she said

that she was going to|call the cops,

I tried to stop her to|find out what happened,

and she kept going|for the door,

and I just lost it.

Nick, I swear to God,

I didn't touch her|after that.

It's OK. It's OK.

Where'd you get these?

Upstairs. I found them|in the parents' bedroom.

You have the key?

The key? Why?

I'm going to|take them off.

Uh-huh.|And then what?

And then I'm going|to drive her home.

Bryce:
Could we talk|about this first?

Bryce, give me the key!

I know this looks bad,|and I screwed up.

But I don't think|I did before

what she said I did,

and I want to|talk about it first.

What is there|to talk about?

What the hell|is going to happen to me

if we just let her go?

What the hell is going to|happen to you if we don't?

This chick is going|to ruin my life.

She's going to f***|it all up.

Bryce, give me the key.

No.

[Crying]

Shh. It's OK.

I'm sorry if that hurt.|It's Kathy, right?

Are you OK?

All right, look.|This is pretty crazy here.

This situation is|not very good. I know.

I'm going to take you out|of here in a minute.

I'm going to drive you home.

But first I need to know|if you're all right.

I mean, are you injured|at all?

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