Death At A Funeral Page #6

You don't have Usher tickets.

Well, no, not yet,

but I can get them like that.

You know what? Derek, please, go away.

You don't deserve her!

He doesn't.

I'm gonna go find Norman.

So, you've never been to New York?

I've been, with my parents once.

Now, that's not seeing New York.

You got to come visit. Just hang out.

- When's your birthday?

- I turned 18 last week.

Yeah. Well, that's my favourite number, girl.

You know, I want you

to get yourself on a bus

and come visit me in New York this year.

Can you do that?

For me?

All right. Yeah.

Yeah, that's what I'm talking about.

And I got all kind of snacks for you.

- Really?

- You like Sugar Daddies?

- Ryan, Ryan, I need to talk to you.

- Gummi bears...

- Ryan, I need to talk...

- Aaron, not now.

- I really need to talk to you.

- Aaron, give me five minutes, okay?

Bro, I'm grieving here.

Martina, could you excuse us?

We've really got to talk about something.

Hey, SpongeBob is on.

All right, talk to you later.

What are you doing?

Remember the guy that came by

a little earlier, that we didn't recognise?

- Dude in the leather jacket.

- Yeah, well,

he came by the study, and he showed me

some pictures of him and Dad.

So? So, he showed you some pictures,

- what's wrong with that?

- Pictures of him and Dad together.

- So, we playing 20 questions now or what?

- He was Dad's lover.

- No, man. No, no, no, no.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, the guy's name is Frank.

He showed me some pictures

of him and Dad doing stuff.

You telling me our father was

on the downlow?

- Way down low.

- Hell no.

I don't believe that. My father's not gay.

Matter of fact, he's so straight,

he makes me seem gay.

And I ain't f***ing gay.

Daddy!

I ain't know he did yoga.

Look. He got the wheelbarrow.

- Thanks.

- I just don't get it.

- Thanks.

- I just don't get it.

I don't know what she sees in that poser

that she doesn't see in me.

- Seems serious, don't it?

- Of course it is, it's my life.

I've only been sleeping

like eight hours a night, man.

- I'm at my wit's end.

- What?

- No, dude.

- Yeah?

- Me. Pigment mutation?

- Right.

Well, maybe it's the tiglio,

that thing Michael Jackson had on his balls.

I don't know what Michael Jackson had

on his balls.

- Okay.

- You asking me,

like I was down there or something.

- Hey. Try this cake. It might have nuts in it.

- So?

Elaine's dad said I might just be allergic

to nuts.

So, don't eat nuts.

Put the fork down. Don't eat it.

That's what I do when I'm stressed. I eat.

You ain't gonna eat

when your hand falls off, papa.

Just try the cake for me.

See if it has nuts in it, please?

Elaine's driving me crazy,

and you're not helping.

Hey, fathead. Quit slopping down food

for a second. Make me a plate.

I'm gonna wash my hands,

and make you a dynamite plate.

I know you like hot sauce

on your collard greens. That's...

Come here to papa.

Uncle Russell.

Have you seen a little pill,

pill bottle with some Valium in it?

- Is that a yes or...

- God, don't scare me like that.

Sh*t tastes like it got nuts in it. Sh*t.

- I'm sure we'll start again soon.

- Dr Barnes! Dr Barnes!

- Let's go back inside.

- Soon. I just need a moment alone.

Just one minute.

- Dr Barnes, just one quick...

- Excuse me.

How you doing, Miss Cynthia?

- You look good.

- Thank you.

You hanging in there?

Your macaroni is superb.

Six different cheeses.

He looked good in that box.

The rigor mortis set in well.

You know, except for that left hand.

You might just wanna throw an oven mitt

or something on there. Yeah.

The suit he got on is magnificent, you know.

Looked like Colin Powell.

Looked just like a Republican.

But did you check the shoes?

'Cause sometimes they take the shoes

right off their feet in the funeral home, right?

- Especially if they're gators.

- Norman. Just...

- Excuse me.

- Sorry, Miss Cynthia.

Jesus Christ!

Somebody dropped they pills.

If we don't get him the money right now,

he's gonna start showing Mom the pictures.

- Let me think. All right? Let me think.

- Think, think.

- You gonna have to pay him, then.

- That's your big idea?

I'm gonna have to pay him?

Where's your money?

Don't you have a savings or a nest egg?

A damn piggy bank?

Aaron, I'm in debt up to my ass.

I'm broke, man. It's "Hammertime," okay?

If I don't get some money soon,

I'm gonna have to do a damn reality show.

Okay, so, I gotta pay for the funeral,

the catering, and all this other sh*t,

and now I gotta pull $30,000 out of my ass?

- You know, he's your dad, too.

- Yeah, but you the oldest.

- By nine months, as you love to point out.

- Doesn't matter.

Besides, you been living off

of Mom and Dad long enough.

You must've saved some money.

What? You haven't paid rent in a long time.

Hey, hey, I've been living with them,

not off them.

And Dad's been retired for five years.

Who do you think's been paying

all these bills?

Well, if we both got money issues,

what can we do? F*** him! F***...

F*** him, Aaron. F*** him.

Pay the man. Just pay him.

- Are you okay there, friend?

- Hey, f*** no.

My nephew's dead, and the little bastards

ate all the potato salad. Sh*t.

Listen, I think we're just about ready

to start that service again.

Just five more minutes, please, please.

Just five. Five.

Hey, hey, baby, what's going on?

Is everything okay?

No, we're not gonna be able to move out

as soon as we hoped. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Wait. Listen to me.

Hello? What are you talking about?

You know I wouldn't have said it

unless I had a good reason.

- Okay, fine, so what's the reason?

- Aaron, we don't have time right now.

Aaron, listen,

I am trying to be understanding,

but you have some explaining to do.

And I mean it!

Just a little more time, okay?

Hey, hey, hey, hey,

that's not supposed to be read yet.

- Well, it was on the coffee table.

- And what's that supposed to mean?

Well, when someone leaves something

on a coffee table,

it's assumed it's for everybody.

That's pretty standard.

Those are coffee table rules.

- Can we get to the point here?

- Fine by me.

So, I write the cheque,

you give us the photos,

and you stay away from our mother.

- Is that the deal?

- Deal.

Okay.

- What's your last name?

- Lovett.

With two "Ts."

- Lovett.

- Is that your first one?

- What?

- The novel. It's a first draft.

- Yeah. Yeah, yeah, so?

- No, nothing.

I tried writing once.

Didn't work for me, either.

I think it's like a gift.

Either you have it or you don't.

Must be hard for you, though.

I mean, your brother

being a bestselling author and all.

Your father and I read Rhonda's Tiny Box

cover to cover together.

We loved it. He was so proud of you.

Well, thank you. I guess.

- That's it. I can't do it.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa, Aaron. Aaron, no, no.

What are you doing?

There is no way in the world I'm giving

this guy my hard-earned money. No.

Hey, don't be stupid, okay?

Now, I'll pay you back

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