Living Will... Page #2

you were talking to?

Nobody.

Why do you care anyway?

Well, I was thinking

maybe we should start

seeing each other again.

I think you might be

a different person now,

a little better.

I should go.

Ow.

F***, that hurt.

Will!

Oh, that's not good.

- Hey!

- What?

Are you okay?

What, are you retarded?

No, I'm not okay.

Do you want some morphine?

You know what? Just a couple chewable

aspirins, maybe a Q-tip.

Yes, I want some

morphine, you idiot!

I don't have any morphine.

Oh my God.

Do you want anything else?

You are 110% useless.

All right, this is

what you can do for me...

What?

Don't put your penis

in my cousin.

What?

Don't f*** my cousin.

Wait, no. Hang on. I was looking

the other way. I can't hear.

You know damn well

what I said.

No, I can't hear you.

You should just come over here

so I can hear you.

How can I come over there?

I'm practically dead.

You know damn well

you can hear me, Will.

I can't hear you!

There's bombs.

The bombs... I can't hear.

How can I hear you

and you can't hear me?

You're right there.

Of course you can hear me.

I can't hear you.

Say that again.

Don't f*** my cousin,

you dick!

Will!

Will, help!

Will!

Will?

Will!

What are you wearing

cologne for?

Yeah, what, are you going

to the Oscars or something?

Yeah, who do you think

you are...

Daniel Gay Lewis?

He called you Daniel.

Rollo, when I let

Matt stay here,

I didn't know your skeevy ass

was gonna be here every single day.

Two-for-one

special, man.

Supply staying

close to demand.

That's not how supply

and demand works.

And anyway, it's not

two-for-one, because

Maurice over here

has been here every f***ing day.

- Do you think it's gay that I bake?

- Who the f*** is Maurice?

Furbush, you idiots.

Maurice f***ing Furbush.

This waste of space

sitting right over here next to you.

That's Furbush's name?

Whoa. You remind me

of Stephen Hawking.

Oh my God,

your stupidity astounds me.

Are you cooking pot brownies

in an Easy-Bake oven?

We couldn't get

the real oven in here.

Anyway, aren't you supposed to meet up

with that broad or something like that?

Krista.

Her name is Krista.

She's been here every day

for the past month.

She's got

a sweet rack.

Yeah, a nice

turd-cutter too.

How many of these things

have you guys eaten?

13, man.

You are f***ing

retarded, really.

He was calling you

retarded, man, not me.

Oh, the brownie's ready.

- Hey girl.

- Hey, Cam. Bye.

So this is gonna seem

really over the top,

but I was considering

asking you

to move in with me.

You don't have

to answer right now.

Whoa, okay, I haven't even

sampled the milk yet.

Let me think about it.

Sounds good.

Okay.

The reason I'm definitely

a finer housewife of Cherry Hill

is because I enjoy

spoiling myself.

Did you play hot dogs

and donuts yet?

No, but I think she's

gonna move in though.

Wait a minute.

- Bad move, man.

- What?

Whoa, does that mean

you're kicking me out, man?

No, you're cool for a while,

at least till you get a job.

A job?

Congratulations!

This is cause for a celebration,

the only way

we know how.

I don't know, guys. I haven't smoked

since I had that episode.

So that is why I don't

smoke weed anymore.

Were you talking to us?

Yeah, man, 'cause I was,

like, zoning out... in and out.

No, I was talking to the other two dipshit

burnouts on my couch.

There are other

dipshits here?

Listen, man, it doesn't matter

who's where.

We're bros, all right?

It's all about

having a good time.

Live in the moment.

Be one of us.

It's healthy for you,

sort of.

Okay.

Why monkey around

when you can have

professionals...

Happy birthday, Stacy.

I see you turned 33.

No, I didn't.

Jesus.

What's up,

Brosef Stalin?

Look at him.

He's cute.

This girl's

in my sorority.

Oh crap, here she comes.

Did you tell her

we were coming here?

Of course I did.

It's my birthday.

We're best friends

in my sorority.

Dude, you're

freaking out, man.

You're acting like

you've just seen a ghost.

Stop screaming.

You're acting like a little girl.

Oh my God, oh my God,

Oh my God, oh my God,

oh my God.

Dude, take a deep breath.

Relax. It's me, dude.

Why... why are you here?

I'm totally seeing sh*t

and hearing sh*t.

Ooh, you're crazy.

Relax, dude.

It's me. It's Belcher.

It can't be you, can it?

Are you stoned?

When the hell did you

start smoking weed?

Aww.

Did you miss your buddy?

Did you?

Are you depressed?

I'm back, f***er.

Quit being such a fag.

Well, I did it.

I really did it this time.

Really?

Snap out of it, man.

You've got to accept

the fact that I'm a ghost.

Hell, it took me

five minutes to accept it.

If you're a ghost,

why can I see you?

I don't know.

You're the first.

I guess you're just special.

So if you've been gone

for a month,

where have you been?

You know how in the movies

they talk about how when you die

you get to float over the top of your own

funeral and sh*t,

see who showed up?

Not so much.

So what did you do?

Well, first I tried

to fly out of there,

but that sh*t didn't work.

So then I jumped on a bus

and I think I got

an S.T.D. From it.

And it was terrible.

Dude, public transportation

sucks ass.

Well, I just realized

I'm really high right now

and I'm talking to myself.

I'm going to bed

right now,

so you can stay

or go or f*** off.

F*** you.

Good night, imagination.

Wow.

Good night, prickle dick.

Belcher.

Belcher.

What?

Can I talk to you?

Go ahead.

In the hallway.

Come on.

I'll smoke

in a minute, Mom.

What?

Don't "what" me.

What are you doing?

What the hell?

Isn't it obvious?

I'm trying to get some shut-eye

in my own goddamn bed.

I didn't realize I was

gonna be up all night

listening to some whiny broad

piss and moan about being stoned.

Oh my God, you're real.

Dude, I thought we went

through this already.

What are you doing?

Are you joking?

Stop doing that.

Oh man.

Hey, man, it's just me...

regular old Belch.

I know it might seem like

we're in the movie "Ghost"

and it's getting all gay and sh*t,

but it's not like that.

I just want to hang out

like old times.

That's the only reason I'm back here

is to just do this.

It's the only reason

that I can think of.

Don't be all weird, man.

I've got something

that'll cheer you up.

Mm-hmm. Watch this.

F***ing sh*t.

Oh man, there's

something to be said

about the grace of someone falling

with stuff in their hands.

There's two types of people in this world,

my friend, two types...

one that's gonna

sacrifice their kneecaps

to save one little piece

of canned good,

but the other...

they're the ones that will

throw those groceries

in the air with gusto

to walk away unscathed.

This one's a thrower.

- Want to get out of here?

- Yeah yeah.

- Let's go.

- Okay.

Come on, Will, you've got this.

Knock it down my urethra.

Right towards my dick.

Oh, eat my puss.

Yo, man, this is bullshit.

You can't make no shot like that.

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