Hole in One Page #6

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)

(CHEERING)

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

Do I look fat to you?

- (LAUGHS) What?

- Be honest.

Oh, sh*t.

- TYLER:
What's up, guys?

- Hey, man. What's up?

How's it going. What's up, man?

MARK:
Hey, E-dog, where you been, man?

Everyone's been looking for you.

- Hey, what up?

- What's up, man?

Hey, we're going to go get some beers

over at Players.

You guys should totally come.

Dude, that would be awesome, but...

- I'm just tired.

- Yeah, I'm beat.

We've been working.

We got the photo shoot...

Yeah, we got tons of stuff to do.

Wait. You guys are turning down beers?

What's going on here?

Yeah, you've disappeared for two days.

You going snowboarding or something?

What's up with that jacket?

- Okay, all right...

- Ty, no.

- They need to know. They need to know!

- You guys, what's going on?

We need money fast, all right.

PAHR's future depends on it.

Problem solved, you guys.

Why didn't you tell me sooner?

My roommate freshman year had a girlfriend

whose cousin lived across the street

from a friend of Darius Vernon.

- What? I didn't know that.

- Yeah.

You know, O.G., Ice Pyk.

Ice Pizzy in the hizzy.

The rapper?

He's a music producer now.

He lives here in San Diego.

I could get us a meeting.

Dude, no, no.

Are you kidding me?

That guy's a huge businessman.

He invests in companies

in San Diego all the time.

- No, we'll raise the money ourselves.

- Thank you.

You really wanna help us out,

you really wanna do us a favour?

You hear of anybody that's looking for

some golf action, you send them our way.

- Okay.

- All right.

Shut up.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

- Not happening?

- Nope.

(GIGGLING)

Oh, my God, Mandy.

Your brother is gonna totally flip.

Eric P. Keller. Where's my car, boy?

- Oh, sh*t.

- Come here, man.

(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

ERIC:
Sorry.

Keep running, I'm gonna track you.

I'm gonna get you.

(EXCLAIMS)

End of the line, turkey balls!

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,

where did that little shitbird go?

If he hollers, don't let him go.

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!

(ERIC SCREAMS)

ERIC:
(IN HIGH-PITCHED VOICE) Can't a lady

get a little bit of privacy! Get out, a**hole!

Excuse me. I'm sorry, ma'am. Excuse me.

Get out, you f***ing dick.

Goddamn California.

TYLER:
I can't believe

you talked me into this.

I don't even know what to say to this guy.

Relax. Didn't you pitch

the whole PAHR 72 thing to your professor?

Yeah, and he hated it, all right? No.

And that was just a professor.

I didn't have to worry about him killing me

if he didn't like the idea.

Dude, look around.

There's plenty of people here.

If he kills us, there'll be lots of witnesses.

I'm joking, man. You're too uptight.

We'll be fine.

Mr Vernon will be with you shortly.

You can wait right over there.

(EXHALING)

I should've used the bathroom before I left.

There's a bathroom right there.

Can't.

Oh, man, I never knew you were

one of those guys that can't crap in public.

- That's hilarious.

- That's not it.

- Yeah, it is.

- I like to take a shower afterwards.

Oh, my God.

You have to take a shower after you sh*t?

Maybe you're doing something wrong, dude.

It's just preference.

No. I know a lot about poop.

I'm gonna help you out with this, bro.

I got a lot of experience with this.

Okay, first of all,

are you sitting down when you're doing it?

- Dude, it's just preference.

- Are you sitting down?

Yes, cock-monkey, I'm sitting down.

What about your pants?

Are your pants still pulled up

or do you have them down?

- I knew I shouldn't have said anything.

- lf you still have them pulled up,

I think I might've solved

the problem right there.

- You're such a prick, you know that?

- Toilet paper.

Are you remembering

to use toilet paper afterwards?

- 'Cause that could be it.

- You're not getting this.

Dude, what am I not getting here?

Why can't you sh*t like a normal person?

Okay, smart guy,

next time you have to take a sh*t,

sh*t in your hand,

and then wipe that sh*t with toilet paper

and then tell me that your hand is clean.

- Okay, I see your point.

- Exactly.

Dude, I get that, okay.

But there are some places on my body

I'm willing to accept the fact

they're not always 100% clean.

I mean, I eat with my hands sometimes,

but never my ass.

Mr Vernon will see you now.

All right, saggy diapers,

see if you can keep your poop in your pants

long enough to get through this.

I make no promises.

Dude, don't worry about it. Okay?

The guy that lived across from me

freshman year was black.

What?

My assistant says

you have a business proposition for me.

Well, Mr Ice Pyk.

Just Darius.

Darius, do you play golf?

Just broke 90.

That's sweet.

Anyway, I started this golf company called

PAHR.

We make golf clothes.

So anyway, we...

I got it.

(IN AFRICAN-AMERICAN ACCENT) Yo,

check it, dog. Here's the dizzle, my nizzle.

My homeboy T-bone here be all up

in the membranes like some Einstein sh*t,

talking bout swole in the dome, right?

He started this fat-ass biz,

selling some fly-ass golf threads.

Plus, he be rolling deep with this badass

golfer who got mad skills like Tiger and sh*t.

But now he's all hurting for snaps.

So, I'm all like, "B*tch, hit up a bank, yo."

He's all like, "Nigga, please."

So, that's why I brought him to you.

Trust me, homie, you gonna look like

the motherfucking bomb

sporting T-bone's fly-ass threads.

Ain't no better way

to get a fly-ass shorty

with a fat-ass booty

come jocking on the old ice pick,

you know what I'm saying?

She sees you with a big-ass club,

busting a cap in the ball's izzass,

she'll be all up in yo junk

and you'll be waxing that ass

like a drop-top six-fo in no time.

(TYLER MOUTHING)

I mean, you look like

a man who likes booty, right?

I love booty.

I put on one of these golf joints,

went to the club,

fifteen big-ass booty ho's

were all up in my sh*t.

It was like a sea of Missy Elliotts in the joint.

I'm telling you, yo, T-bone's clothes

are fitting to blow the f*** up,

and you got a chance to get up in that sh*t

on the ground motherfucking floor.

You going be one rich nigga. Feel me?

(IN NORMAL ACCENT)

I thought that went pretty...

Not a word, Mark. Not a f***ing word.

What the hell?

I want you to find out everything you can

about this golf company, PAHR.

Yo, E-dizzle.

You sure you wanna trade cars?

Mine's a sh*t box.

This thing is practically new.

Yeah, yeah. Just temporarily.

I got this chaw-chomping,

redneck repo-man guy looking for me.

Once he starts missing his goats,

he'll head back to Virginia.

Okay.

You cannot bring this anywhere near

my apartment, anywhere near school.

Yeah. Sure.

Awesome.

(CAR ENGINE STARTING)

Thanks, E-dog.

WOMAN:
Nice ride, boys.

Dude. This car is nectar, bro.

- Sweet.

- Yes.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

- We're so cool.

- Hell yeah.

- Dude, your phone.

- It's not my phone.

Well, it's not my phone.

- Hello.

- DOUG:
This is Eric's dad.

Oh, hey, Eric's dad. It's Mark.

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