Grandview U.S.A. Page #3

Come on, hold that

stomach in, honey. Side, side.

Dad, you know Mike Cody?

What about her?

I went to the Speedrome today to...

- I don't want you to go out there.

- Why?

I just don't, you got it?

Got what? What's going on?

Nothing is going on.

Do you have to resist everything

that I ever say to you?

I'm not resisting you,

I'd like something better than "no."

- You're resisting with that attitude.

- You always turn everything around.

Ah, don't use that Psychology Today

routine on me.

- I'm not in the mood for it.

- Dinner's on.

- Let's go eat.

- I'm not hungry.

Susan, let's eat.

Susan, let's eat!

You don't have to yell.

Why is everyone always yelling at me?

I'm not bothering anyone. I'm sick

of everyone always yelling at me.

Slam, there's a Hungry-Man

dinner in the oven.

Where you going?

- I told you.

- Told me what?

I'm going marketing, honey.

Dressed like that?

Well, I was gonna go naked

but my ass sticks to the car seat.

Bye, honey.

Well, hidey hidey ho, Mikey.

I haven't seen you in a long time.

Hey, Uncle Bob, how you doing?

My back's killing me.

Every time I piss, it burns like

I got a butane lighter stuck up my ass.

Otherwise, everything's just peachy.

How are you?

Making it.

What are you drinking tonight?

I'll have a beer.

You got it.

How's Aunt Winnie?

Oh, hell, she's fine.

I need to ask you a favor.

Shoot.

I need to borrow some money.

Okay.

How much you need, kiddo?

Ten thousand dollars.

Ten thousand?

Hmm. I love you, I truly do, but...

Oh, Winnie would pass a kidney stone

if I loaned you anything like that.

I know, you don't have to explain.

I know I don't, damn it, but I'm...

I'm just sorry.

- You were better off out in California...

- Oh, Bob, please.

Now, listen to me.

You are smart and you are pretty

and you could be or do almost

anything in the world you wanted to,

but no, no, no, not you.

You're gonna hold your head up high.

Let me just tell you something,

when you're neck deep in sh*t,

you got no choice-

- But to hold your head up high.

- But to hold your head up high.

I am my father's daughter.

Quiet down back there.

- Slam.

- Give me another round.

Listen, I'm gonna slam you

the hell out of here

if you break that damn game.

Give me another round.

No way, Jose.

- Oh, sh*t, I'll get it myself.

- Whoa.

- Come on, I'll take you home.

- I'm all right.

Yeah, bullshit.

- I'm all right.

- Come on.

- No.

- Look, do you wanna fight?

I don't hit women.

Good, I don't hit drunks.

Hey, I'm sorry, everybody.

There's only two kinds of drunks.

Those that are sorry

and those that soon will be.

You think you can handle him

all right?

Yeah, no problem.

If he gets antsy on you,

you just rap his head

on the pavement a couple of times.

What's that?

Five hundred dollars.

Winnie doesn't know about it.

The Internal Revenue

doesn't know about it.

Nobody knows about it

and that's just the way I wanna keep it.

- I can't take it.

- Sure you can.

Now just put it in your pocket.

Oh, goddamn it.

Come on.

Go on now. Get out.

Slam? Slam.

Wait a minute.

No, Slam, this way.

You love anybody, Mike?

Yeah, I guess so.

Did you ever love me?

You're drunk.

I know that.

I'm just asking you a question.

Hey, you know...

You are a beautiful woman.

Don't even think about it, Slam,

because I'll kick your ass

drunk or sober.

Goddamn, you're hostile.

I'm not gonna jump on you.

Couldn't get it up now if you were

a pair of twins in a vat of Mazola oil.

Stop it.

Wait, wait. Oh.

- Jeez.

- Ha, ha. Oops.

You remember that time we all went

skinny-dipping out at the lake?

- Uh-uh.

- Oh, come on, you know...

The night your old man caught us

trying to rip off a keg of beer

from the concession stand?

That was a long time ago, Slam.

Man.

I had a crush on you.

You always treated me

like I had the plague.

Because you're so goddamn weird.

You always scared the crap out of me.

Hell, you broke Glen Reynolds' nose

when he tried to get in your pants.

I didn't break yours.

No, you just broke my head when you

ran off with that jerk-off dopehead.

Mike?

Yeah?

It's okay, Slam.

Yo! Hey, what are you doing,

birdwatching or something?

What's wrong with you, you sick?

I don't know.

Maybe I ought to call it

and head home.

Yeah, maybe you ought to.

You don't look so hot.

Yeah, baby.

- Slide on in.

- Thank you, baby.

- Oh, sh*t.

- What?

- Ernie.

- Who?

- Ernie, Slam, my husband.

- Oh, no.

Start the car.

Out of the car, both of you, now.

Wait a second, Ernie.

I said, get out of the car.

- It's not what you...

- It's not what I what?

I suppose the greaseball there

is just a f***ing figment

of my imagination, right?

Slam, this is Donny. We were just...

You were just boffing him

in my bed, weren't you?

In my goddamn bed

in my goddamn house!

I am warning you,

get out of the goddamn car now.

Hey, pal, why don't you just cool off

a few degrees?

You talking to me, pal?

Better move your truck, pal.

Move the pickup, right now.

What, do you think

you're going somewhere?

Get out of the car.

Damn it, move the pickup.

I'll give you to the count of five

to get out of that car.

- Stop it, Ernie.

- One.

- Get your hands off the car.

- Two.

Three.

Four, five.

Hey, I'm warning you.

Oh, yeah?

Stop it, you son of a b*tch.

Just get out of the car, pal.

F*** you, Jake, you're nuts.

Oh, yeah?

You wanna see nuts?

I'll show you nuts.

This is nuts, pal.

Oh, sh*t.

Ernie!

Oh, sh*t!

He's gone crazy.

He's gonna kill us.

- No, no!

- Let go, damn it.

- Let go.

- Don't shoot him.

Oh, damn it!

Oh, my God.

Candy, are you all right?

I shot him, I shot him.

Are you hit?

Does a duck have lips?

Okay, now you sure nobody wants

to press charges against nobody else?

Well, in that case, have a nice day.

Come on, I'll give you a ride home.

Candy, look, hey.

You just stay away from me.

I'll get home on my own.

Hey.

Oh, sh*t.

What are you doing here?

I can't go home.

Did she kick you out?

Right on my ass.

Got some, uh, peace-bond thing

sworn out on me.

Not only can't I sleep

in my own bed with my own wife,

I gotta f***ing stay

50 feet away from her.

Like I'm supposed to carry

a damned tape measure

around with me or something.

What happened?

Poor judgment on my part. Ha, ha.

- Did you beat her up?

- Hell no.

I beat up her boyfriend's car.

Sells washing machines

over in Cartersville.

He's one of these slick creeps

with all them gold chains

and a Coppertone tan.

You got the worst taste in women

of any man I've ever known.

Well, screw you and thanks a lot.

What, all of a sudden, you're an expert

on marriage, the divorced old maid?

At least

I'm not afraid of being alone.

Or whatever's

spooking you so bad,

you'd rather eat it

and babysit some little tease.

Oh, hell, Mike.

I know a lot of girls

playing the same game as Candy.

Suckering some airhead

like you into playing house.

She loves me, goddamn it.

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