Me and Earl and the Dying Girl Page #5

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Man, it was your dumb ass

yelling that sh*t on the bus.

Yo, Greg!

Did you snitch on me?

He did snitch on you!

I was there.

I heard you ridiculing me

in front of

your loathsome harem.

You have made...

a mortal enemy.

And I will never stop

hounding you.

Yeah, you made two mortal

enemies. I stabbed a dude.

Jesus.

So they haven't really

done anything.

It's been about a month now.

They did say they're never

gonna stop hounding me...

...so, sooner or later...

you know...

...gonna get hounded.

Sorry, next time

I'll bring you some flowers.

Though I don't even know

where I'd put them.

It's like, like the only place

left is the barf bucket.

Flowers.

Where you barf.

I like that hat.

It's pretty cute.

Look, I've never been

very beautiful...

...and that's fine because

that's not important to me.

But...

I thought it'd be

easier looking like this.

It's just not.

Everyone comes in here

and sees me...

...and they're

so clearly repulsed.

It's so much harder

than I thought it would be.

Hey, come on.

You look good.

I'm ugly, Greg! I'm so ugly.

Everyone feels like they have

to lie to me and no one

realizes how insulting that is.

Everyone thinks they're

helping, and they're not.

Here.

That one's called Mono Rash.

It's based on Rashomon

by Kurosawa.

Plot's basically

just Earl killing people

'cause he has a rash...

...from mono,

you know, the STD.

Anyway, we're supposed

to go work on

our homage to Apocalypse Now.

Ours is called

A Box O' Lips, Wow,

which is even worse

than Mono Rash.

It's a war movie

where these two guys

take part in the unspeakable

brutality of war...

...and then they find

a box of tulips.

Box O' Lips, yeah.

And they're just, "Wow."

They can't get over

how great these tulips are,

it's like,

"A box o' lips, wow!"

The worst part is,

tulips might not

even be in the budget anymore.

I should actually

just stay here

and keep you

from watching that.

No! I'm fine. Go make it.

Okay.

Okay. Have fun watching

this incredibly terrible movie.

Mmm. Have fun

making the next one.

Mmm-hmm.

Hey, white boy!

Why don't you make me a tulip

'fore I have Doopie come down

there and eat your face?

But no, for real.

Can you make me a tulip?

Oh, my God!

Am I on set right now?

Oh, damn!

Oh, my God!

Ahh! I can't take it!

Action! Cut!

Madison, why are you here?

Rachel said that

I could find you here...

...and your phone was going

straight to voice mail.

Probably 'cause there ain't

no good service down there!

But I had to get here

'cause I had to let you know.

So, I was visiting Rachel,

and I was giving her a card...

...and she was watching

one of your secret movies.

Oh, my God.

Wait, did you see any of it?

No! No, she turned it

off immediately.

It was good, it was good.

You know,

you're both Japanese, and...

...Earl beheaded you,

and, but then,

she, like, turned it off.

But I had a brainstorm. Okay?

I had an amazing brainstorm.

I realized... you need to

make a film for Rachel.

What do you think?

It would be like her favorite

thing in the entire world...

...and it's like the most

important thing you could do.

You have to do it.

Yeah, word.

"Word"? Like, word,

you'll do it, word?

Yep.

Oh, my God, awesome!

Okay, well,

I can't wait to see it.

Um, okay, I gotta go, but...

Cut!

That's a wrap!

Rolling!

Titties.

Goddamn it!

In the next few weeks,

did I start

making that movie? No.

Because I didn't agree

to make that movie.

All I said was, "Word."

"Word" could mean anything.

Plus, we had at least

a month or two...

all the terrible films

we'd already made.

For example,

A Sockwork Orange.

"Droogle"?

It's Google for droogs.

What's that?

Nothing, just the bane

of my existence.

Which my mom is forcing me

to carry around

until I apply

to some colleges.

She says it's like a menu

for my future,

and I was, like, "Sure.

"A menu that only has food

"that will humiliate me

for four years."

You have to be less

of an idiot about college.

Listen, even if you think

people won't like you...

...which is literally

an insane thing to think...

...you're way less exposed

to people in college.

High school is 40 hours

of class a week.

College is, like, 15 and 20.

And if you don't want to

live with other people,

then go to Pittsburgh State.

Live at home.

It's better than

sitting college out

because you irrationally

hate yourself.

Not irrationally, though.

Apply to Pittsburgh State.

Right now. Apply early.

Come on. Do it in front of me.

Apply to Pittsburgh State.

What if I say no?

I have stage four cancer.

So that would be a pretty

dick move. Come on.

Fine.

"Why I want to

go... to college."

By Werner Herzog.

The highly selective

admissions process...

...weeds out the cruel

and the stupid.

So college is unlike

the senseless chaos...

...and sickening enormity

of high school.

High school is the mouth

of a great demon...

...biting and chewing

and smushing people in the face.

It is simply overwhelming.

In all seriousness,

I am looking forward

to college...

...because I didn't really

fit in in high school,

because of my weird

rodent face...

No.

...and a habit of saying

the dumbest possible sh*t.

No!

The sheer pastiness

of my complexion...

...overwhelms all who behold

it with existential nausea.

"In high school, I never

truly felt comfortable...

"...in my own skin.

"In fact,

I've always been someone...

"...who doesn't

really like themselves.

"But I think that's because I

have some growing up to do...

"...and college is the place

where I'm going to do it."

That's way too personal.

Fine, if you want to

see this again...

Okay! Okay!

But only because cancer.

And you know what? You have to

do this too now. Here.

Page through this huge,

horrible book

and find some colleges.

That's yours now.

Mmm. It's like a menu

for your future.

Can I finish my movie first?

So,

if we make this film,

people are gonna be, like:

"Oh, Greg and Earl,

"they're those weird filmmakers.

"They're always

creepily filming stuff.

"They'll probably sneak into

your house one night

"and film you

while you're sleeping."

But people probably

already think that,

So now, I've become

completely conspicuous,

like all the time.

People look at me and think,

"Filmmaker."

The hell even is this?

When they're not

already thinking,

"Cancer girl's boyfriend."

It tastes like a dog's

funky-ass butthole.

Furthermore,

we agreed to do a film

that we have no idea

what it should look like...

...or sound like, or even be.

I mean,

what the hell sort of film

should we even make? Huh?

I mean, what was I thinking?

You were thinking

that girl Madison

had nice titties.

I mean,

I like the titties too,

but now you got a problem.

'Cause I ain't agreed

to do this sh*t.

You did.

Are you not gonna

help me make this?

The hell we gonna make, son?

They want fresh inspiration.

I must tell you,

the richest inspiration

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