Jack Goes Home Page #3

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You're literally planning...

The party... of a lifetime.

Poof.

- Well...

Sh*t.

Pfft.

I know I'm supposed to say...

I'm sorry, but, um,

but I guess you're

pretty sick and tired

of hearing that by now.

So...

instead, I'll just say...

"f***, man."

- "F*** man" is good.

- Did you love him?

- My dad?

- Yeah.

- More than anything.

- Mine was a piece of sh*t.

He hated me.

No, he hated himself.

Tried to hide a lot of secrets.

And those he couldn't hide,

my mom covered up for him.

A runt and a c*nt.

A liar and a lioness.

Rawr.

- You're a child.

Who the f*** are you

to pontificate?

- Oh, man, I'm...

I'm pontificating?

- Uh-huh. Uh-huh.

Probably don't even know

the meaning of the word.

- Wait. I'm sorry.

What the f*** is your problem?

- Look, Doug, Duncan,

whatever the f*** your name is,

you jerk off in your window

at me.

You seduce me with drugs.

You think you've had a rough

life at 19, but I promise you,

you have no f***ing clue

what you're talking about.

- Hmm.

F*** you.

You're a f***ing a**hole!

And, more importantly,

you're out of your goddamn mind.

: Okay.

Get yourself all tucked in.

There ya go.

I'm gonna tell you a story

and we'll record it.

That way, it's here whenever

you need to fall asleep, okay?

Hmm.

Once upon a time,

there was a little boy,

and he went to the woods

with his mother.

They planned to pick berries

and flowers of color,

but instead

the boy picked up his brother.

His brother was shy

and so very mean,

and angered himself

at all that was seen.

The angry, old brother,

he needed a friend.

"Come with me," said mother,

and she danced to the end.

The boy, he cried out,

"oh, mother, no, no!"

The mean, old brother cried:

"Let it be so!"

To their surprise,

mother flew to the sky,

darting past sadness

and what makes us cry.

"Now, my dear boys,

you see nothing is wrong,"

their mother sang loudly

amidst flight and song.

You are with me,

the sky and the sea,

you who I love

and you who love me."

The boy sat down

at the edge of the cliff,

tears in his eyes

and wondering if.

But soon he would smile,

because all the while,

it was simply a dream

and no evil scheme.

Mother alight

lifts babe in her arms,

holding him tight

with all of her charms.

She sings a sweet hum,

a dear lovely song,

"till tomorrow, my darling,

here's where you belong."

Jack?

You asleep, Jack?

Okay, good.

Here we go.

When you're all grown up...

When you're a big boy,

a young man,

when you're ready...

You're gonna find this tape.

In the attic.

When you're ready, Jack,

you go up to the attic.

- What? What the f***?!

C'mon!

- What are you doing?

- You locked the attic.

Wh-wh-why did you lock it?

- What are you talking about?

- This attic was unlocked

a night ago. Now it's not.

Open the f***ing door!

- Alright.

You wanna do this?

Let's do it!

I didn't lock the f***ing attic,

but I have a feeling

that you wouldn't like

what you found up there,

sweet little boy of mine.

Not yesterday, not today,

and not tomorrow.

So, why don't you just curl up

and cry yourself to sleep

like a good little boy?

I'm gonna sit here...

Until I can trust

that you've gone to sleep.

Good boy.

- This is why, mom.

This is why

I need to go up there.

- In the attic.

When you're ready, Jack,

you go up to the attic.

And, someday,

you'll know the truth.

But just remember...

I love you more than anything.

- What is he talking about?

- Rewind.

Fast-forward.

Stop.

- And, someday,

you'll know the truth.

But just remember...

I love you more than anything.

- Rewind. Play it again.

- Why?

- Just play it again.

Play that piece again right now.

Play it again.

- Just remember...

I love you more than anything.

- Rewind it and play it again.

Play it again!

- I love you more than anything.

- That's all that matters.

That he loved you.

- I love you more than anything.

I love you more than anything.

I love you more than anything.

- He loved you.

Shhh. Shhh...

- First, I just wanna thank

you all so much for coming.

It means a lot to both

my mother and my father.

I believe most of you

have known me since I was...

This big.

So you also know

I'm terrible at public speaking

and I did not prepare a speech

of any kind for today.

But here's what I will say.

My family - the unholy Trinity,

if you will -

could always agree

that a funeral

should never be a funeral...

But a celebration.

That's what today is.

It's a celebration of life...

Well lived.

A life of kindness.

My mother and I truly hope

you believe that.

I... I can still feel my father

standing behind me,

his supportive hand on my back,

telling me I can do anything.

And I look in front of me,

and thank god I have my mother

to tell me the same.

Still standing...

Right here with me.

Now, as my father would've said,

let's celebrate life...

Not death.

Celebrate perseverance...

Not failure.

The future, not the past.

The joy, not the pain.

Here's to you, dad.

And now my mother.

Um...

My mother...

Uh...

That was beautiful, a**hole.

- Well... thanks for coming.

- Yeah... real tough choice.

It was either this or happy hour

at the cracker barrel.

- Just give me a minute, okay?

What the hell is the matter

with you?

You have any idea

how awkward that was for me?

You were supposed to close

the whole thing.

- Just take me home.

- Look,

I get that you're hurting,

but you can't put everything

on me.

I'm f***ing hurting too.

- Please...

Just take me home.

Please?

Thank you, Shanda.

I'm gonna go lie down.

Jack.

- I have something

I wanna tell you,

and I really want you

to hear it.

You've been so strong

through all of this,

and I know it's hell,

because I've been there.

Losing my mom was probably...

The hardest thing

I've ever had to deal with,

even though she was

a complete psycho b*tch.

But... I just want you to know

that no matter what...

I am here.

I am your friend.

And...

What I mean by that... is,

I am here with a huge bag

of weed in my pocket.

And, as your friend,

I demand

that we get very f***ing stoned.

- Thanks.

Is that dress yours?

- No. Crystal's.

She, uh, bought it

for her niece's baptism.

- That's ironic.

Bought for a birth,

worn for a death.

- Celebration. Remember?

- Ah... celebration.

- Your words, not mine.

- No. No, my mom's words.

She's always been hell-bent

that funerals aren't sad.

Hatred is just love.

Hitler was just misunderstood.

Dahmer's just a very hungry guy.

- Ugh. Yeah, Jack the ripper

was just defending himself.

- Pearl harbor's just a...

F***.

I didn't think that one through.

- Your dad would've been

real proud of you today.

- You think?

- I know.

Hey, you remember

when we were, like... 10, 11,

and I slept over and, uh...

We snuck out

and stole your dad's...

No, your mom's whiskey

and cigarettes.

- It was rum.

It was definitely rum.

- And your mom and dad

had that huge blowout fight.

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