Harsh Times Page #5

You know, sometimes

I feel like you're my kid.

I mean, you sneak

around like one.

Oh-ho!

Look... Wow, dude.

I'm sorry.

Be cool, baby girl,

I'm on a mission

to get my sh*t together.

I applied at this commercial

realty company in Studio City,

and this black guy,

he was the office manager

and he's f***in' hella cool,

you know? We're talkin'

and all that sh*t.

You know? We're just kickin' it

and all that.

Did you, did you

check the messages?

Four messages.

DARRELL:

Mr. Alonzo, I'm calling

from Sunhouse Properties

to schedule an interview.

Honey, this is great!

Mm, mm...

Oh! Oh...

You better call him

first thing in the morning.

Yeah. Yeah, yeah.

MIKE:

Oh, damn, dog,

that sh*t was good, dude.

Damn, they should give you

a f***in' Oscar for that sh*t.

(machine beeps)

You just stood there

and you fed me a line of

bullshit like it was nothing.

You should be

the lawyer.

How could you just do that?

How could you look me in the eye

and lie to me like that?

I'm sorry.

I'd rather you hit me.

I'm your clown.

I'm your f***ing clown.

And you and Jim

are laughing at me?

No, it's not...

No, no, no, you are so utterly,

irrevocably busted!

Why don't you just go play

with your little butt buddy?

Go cook up more lies.

You know, I bet

you're doing lines again.

Dude, how could you say

that sh*t?

I'm not f***in'

doing lines again.

Yeah, right, right.

I'm not f***in'

doing lines again!

Right now your word

is less than sh*t.

Maybe you should go.

Just f***in' go.

Just f***in'... just go, right?

F*** it.

I'll f***in' go!

Please, go. Go!

F*** it then!

I'll f***in' go!

Then go, Mike!

I'm serious!

I'll f***in' go

except I won't f***in'

come back!

You want me to f***in' go?!

F***in' go, Mike!

I'll f***in' go then!

I'll f***in' go!

Get the f*** outta here!

(phone rings)

Hello?

Speaking.

Of course, sir. Absolutely.

Thank you very much,

Agent Richards.

Thank you, sir.

Who was that?

That was the feds,

my friend.

I've been informed that I passed

my urinalysis

and they would like me

to go in this morning

to start formal testing.

F*** yeah, dude.

I'll be there all day,

so take my ride,

get your ass a job.

Let's go.

Oh, sh*t!

Come on. Get your

parasitic ass in gear.

(groans)

I had some twisted-ass dreams

about that dude being killed.

I slept like a baby.

I heard screaming.

What kind of tests?

Psychological tests.

Geez, you're

a freakin' psycho, dude.

Don't answer that sh*t

honestly.

Hell no.

They use the Minnesota

Multiphasic Inventory.

It's like 600 questions,

cross-referenced

to detect deception.

They ask the same sh*t

six different ways.

It's lame.

You'll ace it.

Dude, I'm gonna pull it off.

All I needed was a shot.

Gotta play the system.

Like a piano.

You done

with that crap, son?

Yes, sir.

Let's grab some coffee

while these guys finish up.

Bring that with you.

(whispers):

I see dumb people.

We reviewed

your LAPD package.

Since they ran your background,

physical and psych,

we're going with

their paper.

- Navy sucks.

- Army swallows.

Took a little work to

pry your jacket loose

from their people.

They don't much like us poaching

from their applicant pool.

Move it, dirt bag.

Why'd they drop me?

Someone here make a call?

Nope.

They dropped you

on psych, Jim.

You blew

their profiles.

We're all a little

goofy here.

You'd rather be with us,

wouldn't you?

Absolutely, sir.

Good answer.

Have a seat.

Said you were bilingual

on your app.

They want to test your Spanish.

We can get that going

if you got time.

Yes. Sure.

Who's "they"?

Your fans upstairs.

Fans upstairs? Who?

This is some sh*t

above my pay grade,

but some very important people

have an eye on you, Jim.

RECEPTIONIST:

Westside Realty Management.

How may I direct your call?

(distant phone ringing)

Please hold.

Okay, Mike...

Alonzo?

Oh, sh*t. Joe?!

Damn...!

What's up, dog?

- Mikey, look at you.

- What are you doing here, dude?

Mikey, man, check you out.

What the f*** you doing here?

F***ing grew up. I work here.

- Get out of here.

- Yeah.

Dude, you got to come on up.

Yeah, I'll show you

the office.

F***, you're gonna trip, man,

I can see the ocean

and everything.

Check you out, f***ing

ocean view and all that.

You're wearing a suit now.

- Got your hair cut.

- Hey, watch out, baby.

Yeah. Tag no more, huh?

No, man.

Dude, what's up with

your brother, Pedro?

Oh, man, he's in Iraq.

He's in a forward unit.

Get the f*** out of here. Yeah.

(muttering):

F***in' Mexicans.

Bye, sweetie.

Thank you, sir.

I need me some of this, man.

I've been taking piss all day.

Dude!

What?

You're not going to

- f***ing believe this.

- What?

- I had an interview today.

- Yeah?

- Remember Crazy Joe?

- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Dude stomped that guy's

face in at Taco Land

for grabbing his chick's ass.

Homeboy got his sh*t

together, man.

Went to UCLA.

Works at this office

up in Century City.

I got the hookup, dog.

- 12 an hour.

- Hoo-hoo!

- That's a lot of lettuce.

- That's right.

And in three months,

I get benefits.

Damn! Benefits?

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

- Sh*t!

Yeah!

It's not for sure yet,

though, dude.

I still got to

meet the owner, right.

But he says I'm straight.

It's all good, you know.

You're in.

Dude...

I'm in.

Oh, sh*t.

Yeah...

What happened?

They want my ass, man.

Going back tomorrow

for a polygraph test.

If I pass that, they'll

send me to Georgia next week.

Oh...! Damn!

It's like that?!

What's up, lawman?

Whoo-hoo!

How you gonna pass

a lie detector test,

- you lying motherf***er?

- Aw, easy, man.

After every question,

you just f***ing squeeze

like you're taking

a dump, you know, man.

- It throws the machine off. Ooh!

- Oh, dog.

You're gonna sh*t your

pants like that, bro.

F***, I think I just did.

All right, Jim,

I'm going to ask you

some control questions

before we get

to the good stuff.

They can be answered

just "yes" or "no."

Just relax and

respond naturally.

(mouse clicks)

Are you ready?

Yes, sir.

You can just answer

"yes" or "no."

(mouse clicks)

"Is your name

Jim Luther Davis?"

Yes.

"Do you live in Los Angeles?"

Yes.

"Are you 26 years old?"

Yes.

"Are you married?"

No.

(mouse clicks)

"Are you wearing shoes?"

Yes.

"Have you ever smoked

marijuana?"

Yes.

"Aside from the occasion you

mentioned in your application?"

No.

Jim, knock it off.

What, sir?

Son, I've been doing

polygraph examinations

since you were swimming

in your daddy's balls.

So I know all the tricks.

You've either got a tack

in your shoe

or you're clinching

your butt.

I've got spikes

all over this thing.

If you do it again,

I'm going to void this test

and report that you

were uncooperative.

Do you understand?

Yes, sir.

Walk with me.

We've got a problem, Jim.

With what?

With your candor.

(knocking on door)

Come in.

He's here, sir.

Bring him in.

Jim, this is Mr. Hollenbeck,

our regional director.

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