Hurlyburly Page #9

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I don't want to surprise you.

I want to do just what you want.

Then pick one.

Call one. Either.

Why should I have to guess?

What if I pick the wrong one?

You can't pick the wrong one.

Honestly, Eddie,

I like them both the same.

How could you like them

both the same?

I mean one is French,

the other's Chinese.

They're different.

They're as different as...

What is the world to you?

Is it just one big blur...

in which everything

that resembles something else...

just automatically

is put on the same level...

in your hierarchy?

The only thing

they have in common...

is they're both restaurants!

Are you aware

that you're yelling?

My voice is raised in emphasis.

Perfectly legitimate use

of volume.

Particularly when,

in addition...

I evidently have to break

through this f***ing cloud...

in which

you're obviously enveloped...

in which everything

is just this big blur...

totally devoid of the most

rudimentary sort of distinction.

Just call the restaurant.

Why are you doing this?

I'm hungry.

I just want to get something

to eat before I faint.

You're up to something.

I'm up to something?

You're telling me whether

I'm hungry or not. I'm hungry.

- Bullshit.

- Up to?

Paranoid, Eddie.

Para-f***ing-noia.

OK? Just be alert...

because your tendencies

are all over the place.

I'm fine.

Oh, you're fine?

Your standing there...

screeching at me about

"what am I up to" is paranoid.

Not if you're up

to something, it's not.

I'm not! Take my word for it.

You're sounding

a little bit nuts.

I'm supposed to trust

your judgment...

on my mental stability?

I'm supposed to trust

your evaluation...

of the nuances of my sanity?

You can't even

tell the difference...

between a French

and a Chinese restaurant!

I like them both!

They're different. One's French,

the other's Chinese!

They're totally

f***ing different!

Not in my inner emotional

subjective experience!

The taste, the decor,

the waiters...

the accent... the f***ing accents!

The little phrases

the waiters use.

They yell at each other...

in totally f***ing

different languages!

Does none of this make

any impression on you?

Yes, it impresses me

that I like them both!

I mean, your total

inner emotional experience...

must be this epic f***ing fog.

What do you want...

some kind of dualistic trip

where everything comes in twos?

You just can't tell

the difference between 'em...

so you just pull on this

taut wire between people...

who might need some definitive

reaction from you...

in order to know.

F*** you!

What's wrong with that?

Two guys, Eddie.

I happened to mention two guys.

I just want to know

if it's a pattern.

Chinese restaurants.

You can't tell the difference

between people.

What?

God, Eddie.

I really... I really feel awful.

This is so f***ing depressing.

I really like you. I really do.

I mean...

I mean, don't feel too bad.

Well, I do. I feel bad.

We have to talk

about these things.

Don't, on the basis of this...

make some kind of grand,

overwhelming, you know...

comprehensive assessment.

That's absurd.

Sometimes there's stuff,

other stuff under stuff.

I don't care, Eddie.

What are you talking about,

you don't care?

It just doesn't matter,

and I don't care.

No, no, no. Wait.

Hold on.

No, it matters, and you care!

What you mean is, it doesn't

make any difference!

What? Oh, my God!

I cannot stand

this semantic insanity anymore!

I'm finished!

I cannot be that specific

about my feelings!

I can't!

Will you get off

the goddamn phone?

Eddie, what?

Get in.

Phil's dead.

Oh, my God.

How you doing, Edward?

I'm OK.

Is that what you're asking?

Yeah, I'm OK.

Good. Mm-hmm.

Mickey, I got a letter

from Phil.

Phil... it's postmarked

on the day.

He mailed it on the day.

"The guy who dies

in an accident...

"understands

the nature of destiny"?

"The guy who..." What?

"Who dies in..."

I mean, what the f***?

What? Mickey, what?

It's a f***in' fortune cookie.

If he killed himself,

this is the note.

What do you mean, "if"?

I'm giving him

the benefit of the doubt.

Oh, come on, Eddie.

You want to look this thing

in the eye?

You don't do

a hundred miles an hour...

down that narrow crease

in the high ground...

because you're anxious

to get home.

A hundred miles an hour

down Mulholland...

on a star-filled night

is not the way to longevity.

The guy behaved often

and finally like, you know...

some soulful jerk-off.

F*** him and forget about him.

What more can I say?

I'm gonna look up the words.

Are you out of your mind?

I'm gonna see

if the dictionary might help.

Mickey, this is what

he wanted us to think.

There might be some kind

of a clue here like maybe why.

What why?

There is no why

in a disaster like this, Eddie.

You know, the earth moved.

The guy was in the wrong place

at the wrong time...

and this big hole opens up.

What's he gonna do?

He left a note.

The note is tangential.

It's part of his goof...

that he was a rational

human being when he wasn't.

I want no part of this f***ing

beyond-the-grave extension...

of his jerk-off sensibility.

The note is

what he wanted us to think.

- Bullshit!

- He left it.

To drive us nuts

from long-distance.

All right, let me see it.

What's to look up?

I mean, come on.

"A guy who..." That's him.

"Dies..."

In case we didn't know,

he gave us a demonstration.

"Accident"

is to propel yourself...

into a brief

but unsustainable orbit...

and then attempt to land

in a tree...

on the side

of a cliff-like incline.

"Understand"

is what he had no part of.

"Nature" is the tree.

"Destiny" is, if you're him...

you're an a**hole.

- Count the letters.

- What?

I want to know how many words

and how many letters.

Eddie, Eddie,

this is dementia here.

You've flipped a circuit.

Grief has put you out of order.

You've never heard

of an anagram?

You think this is an anagram?

Look, Mickey...

have no f***ing faith

in the thought...

but just as a favor...

keep your sarcasm to yourself.

What sarcasm?

I'm...

Wait a minute. This is...

What sar...

This is insulting, you know?

I'll do the goddamn lunacy.

I'll count the letters, but

let's get one thing straight.

I've indulged in nothing

even remotely sarcastic...

and I want that understood.

If I've been a little flip...

it's to put some humor

into what could be...

a totally and utterly mor...

There are some times...

in the goddamn history of

mankind where a little humor...

won a person some affection...

you know, for the effort

not to go under.

Anybody can go under, Eddie.

I mean, we're all going

f***in' under.

So, how about a little laugh

along the way?

So I'm flip? So what?

I don't feel like being flip,

Mickey.

Oh, but you do want to do

an anagram on this death note?

Flip is sarcastic.

No, it's not. That's crazy.

Sarcastic is mean, it's heavy.

It's funny, sure, but it's mean.

I do both, but this was flip.

So I have "Accident...

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