Charlotte for Ever Page #3

Damn it!

Look at yourself.

Charlotte!

Are you having fun here?

Hey, Leon the Fatty, is that a new perfume?

Well, it's Guerlain's Jicky

I thought it's for women.

Charlotte...

- What are you wearing?

- have some tact...

My natural fragrance.

It's better to wash

yourself sometimes, sweety.

Only dirty ones wash themselves.

Where is Stephen?

He's gone.

For work?

For pleasure.

For pleasure.

Dad, I'm going to a party tonight.

Ok.

Just don't take the moped.

I'll call a cab for you.

Be home by midnight.

Twelve o'clock,

no excuses.

Don't forget about Cinderella.

Yeah, or your pumpkin cracks.

I'm so sick of you two!

Shepherding me all the time!

You can only shepherd a cow.

So what are we going to do?

I've grown b*obs.

I touched them one night.

Drunk as hell.

With my hand, they were light...

like two lacy handkerchiefs

with the needle still in them.

Is that how you burned your hand?

What did you say, a**hole?

I know you don't like guys.

But you killed your wife.

Great! You too! Just like Charlotte.

Soon I'll believe it myself.

You still believe in God.

I'll tell you, sweety.

I saw how angels died -

beautiful like Praxiteles' statues.

Or Michelangelo's.

Young gods were writhing in agony.

Cancer - and I couldn't do anything...

to ease

their agonizing deaths.

but to give them

this f***ing morphine.

And your wife here.

What about my wife?

You want me to believe

in this God after that?

What do you think about it?

Listen, Stanly.

I'm listening, Oliver.

As far as I know, you didn't f*** me.

I don't remember that.

So I can tell you the truth.

You are depriving your daughter.

This baby...

is a real treasure.

A gift from God.

What she has in her head

is in your ass.

She thinks you're a murderer.

That's where your problems come from.

Problems my ass.

Kiss my hairy a**hole.

Translation?

Translation. - Kiss my hairy ass.

But, seriously.

Admit it.

You were driving.

And you want me to believe

that the tank truck caused the accident?

Tell it to someone else, sweety.

Do you want to see the police report?

There you go, moron.

Stop it. Stop it.

I know.

I've read the report about Stephen's accident.

And then you'll receive

the same one about Charlotte.

Then you'll know what a real pain feels like.

You better take your words back

or I'll smash your face.

What? Can't you take a joke?

Gosh!

- Was this a joke?

- What should I take back?

What said is said.

Swallow and forget, honey?

Don't honey me!

Go f*** yourself.

You never swallow?

We're gentlemen after all.

Look at you, look at me.

Look at us.

We're just two pieces of sh*t.

I know me; I can

look truth straight in the eyes.

Truth kills, buddy.

Gods are on earth.

Somebody believes in heaven.

But not in God!

Say "gods" in plural.

I have an idea, an idea my friend.

Close your big mouth and

f*** off.

What beautiful eyes.

Just like agates.

So you are Charlotte.

What your dad said...

Hey, easy, you cow.

Keep your hands off!

I just wanted to say...

Go away, you pig!

Quiet.

What about my money?

- He's broke.

- Ah sh*t.

You've lost the slipper.

And you - my respect.

What are you doing, god damn it?

I found pubic hairs

in the sheets.

You think I'll sleep

in the same bed as your whore?

I hope you get crabs.

Charlotte.

Charlotte for ever.

Dad, dad! I'm scared.

Come on, come here.

Why are you doing this to me?

What am I doing again?

You're f***ing around.

I do what I want and can.

And I don't have to report to anybody.

And I'm not telling tales to anybody.

Sh*t!

Tales. Grimm. Andersen.

Do you think I'm that stupid?

No, you're like a creamy toffee,

still fresh...

but you're tormenting me.

You're an a**hole, dad.

Go to hell.

Mom.

Where is my mom?

Mom is in heaven.

If you keep this up

I'll join her soon.

I saw a gun in your drawer.

The first bullet is yours, my darling.

When you shoot yourself later - don't miss.

Or you'll get twenty years

in jail.

You'll be in the same cell as

mom's murderer.

Shut up!

Will you shut up already?

Carmen, my baby, remember!

Our journeys and stations - which ones?

Nights and bars - so what?

Oh, Carmen, our terrible fights.

And mountains, and the dwarf oak.

And our last fight.

And a gun in my hand.

And a hole in your head, Carmen.

It smells disgusting.

Smells like sh*t.

Red stinks, that's right.

Get out of here!

I'm here!

What do you want?

You.

He gave you the key?

Stan is teaching me Greek!

Don't you get it?

Don't be afraid, I won't eat you.

Everybody's saying that.

What if they come back?

Don't worry, they're at the cemetery.

They died?

No, you idiot!

They are visiting the mom's grave.

And I'm here visiting you!

I'll steal something from classics

like Benjamin Constant.

Herman won't notice.

Poor idiot!

He's an ignoramus.

As far as I remember...

Aha! Here!

She just died.

Her heart is broken.

And she is leaving a note for him.

Right here.

Just say a word - she wrote.

Is there a country

where I will not follow you to?

Is there an abode where I would not stay

to live next to you...

without burdening your life?

But no, you don't want to.

All the plans I offer

with shyness and trembling...

as the fear freezes my heart -

all of them are impatiently denied by you.

The best I've reached -

is your silence.

Such cruelty doesn't fit

your nature.

You are kind, your actions are noble

and filled with devotion...

But what actions will erase your words?

These merciless words are heard everywhere.

I hear them at night.

They haunt and devour me,

they pervert everything you do.

Do I really have to die?

Then you'll be happy.

A poor creature will die

that you protected -

Poor Eleanor will die, who you

can't stand by yourself anymore...

Who you can't find a place on

earth for without feeling annoyed.

She'll die.

She'll die.

You'll be walking alone in the crowd...

You'll meet people that today you're

grateful to for their indifference.

And maybe one day, hurt

by these callous hearts...

you'll regret that the one heart

that belonged to you...

lived for your favor and would

stand up despite thousands of dangers...

to protect you - and that you

will not honor...with just one look.

Beautiful, isn't it?

That is wild, terrific and crazy.

There is just one problem - it's not his.

What do you mean, not his?

It's Benjamin Constant's.

Who the hell is he?

Are the rights of authorship available?

He kicked off in 1830.

That piece of sh*t!

Who - Constant?

His constant is the inconstancy.

What do you want, my dear?

He's killing himself for this broad.

And in between drinking, he's stealing

wherever he can. Intellectually, of course.

Tell me, doctor!

Are you a pedagogue, by chance?

Though I don't have anything against

queers...

I'm asking you, did your

grandma like to ride bicycles?

Pardon me, I not understand.

It's simple.

Bicycle - pedal - pederast!

Now, whose sh*t is this?

Benjamin Constant's!

It's not funny.

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