My Sassy Girl

- This is the story

of the first and last time

I ever fell in love.

Let me start

with a little background

so that you can

understand exactly

what I've been through here.

It's a boy!

- My name is Charles Bellow,

but you can call me Charlie.

I was born

in French Lick, Indiana,

which sounds like it could be

kind of a cool,

scandalous place to be from,

but it's not.

Uh, there's nothing French

and trust me,

nothing is licked.

My parents, Roger and Kitty,

are the nicest people

you'd ever want to meet,

and I'm not just using

an expression there.

If you met people any nicer

than this,

it would just upset you.

- Give the nice

lady a seat.

- OK!

- There you go.

- I was taught to emulate

that niceness,

and to reasonably expect

it from other people.

You can have my seat,

ma'am.

- Thank you, dear.

- Now, that second part there,

uh, that's where you can

get into a little trouble.

When I was accepted at

Vanderweil University,

it was the fulfillment

of a dream my parents

had had since...

- Oh! OK.

OK.

-...well, since

the very beginning.

- All right.

- A Bellow was going to college.

A Bellow was majoring

in business,

so that a Bellow could then

go on to become a middle manager

in a fine

American corporation...

Maybe even

the Tiller King Company,

whose tractors my father

repaired for a living.

I shared their dream.

I promised them

that I would not let them down,

that the Bellow-family boulder

was about to get a serious shove

up the evolutionary hill.

Hi.

Hi.

They were counting on me.

Lord, how they were counting.

Hi.

Hi.

Everything was on track

in my undergraduate years,

and I was lucky enough

to get into business school.

And then I got word that

my cousin Bart

had passed away... suddenly.

- Death, man.

Death sucks.

- Glad you were a

philosophy major there, Leo.

- Sorry. The death unit

was back in freshman year.

Meantime, we should probably

just try to cheer ourselves up

by sticking to

happier subjects...

like sex.

Wanna play the game, huh?

- Sure.

- Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes!

Yes.

- OK, OK, OK, OK.

Let's play this way.

Are there any women here

who you would not sleep with?

- Probably.

- Fair enough.

- Charlie, I'm a young male

at or near my sexual peak.

Don't hate me for following

my evolutionary blueprint.

- Oh, I do not.

- Hell, yes!

- I just, uh, I think it's--

I think it's suspect that

you could know in a second

whether or not you

would sleep with a woman.

For me-- For me, those

decisions take a little thought.

- That's why you've only slept

with 3 women in 4 years!

- What, are you taking notes?

- Yes!

- Damn you!

I just have other priorities

right now, you know?

- I mean--

- Whoa! Careful, Charlie!

If the death of your cousin

teaches us anything,

it's that we must live!

Live, Charlie! Live!

- Live, you say.

- Yes!

- Yes.

- Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

Yes!

In your dreams, pervert!

- I mean, you might like it!

It might even be good for you.

- It might.

- I mean, do you

seriously claim

there is no woman within your

field of vision at this moment

with whom you would sleep,

no questions asked?

- Excuse me, but you should be!

- OK, I'm sorry.

- I...

I'm outta here.

- Just go.

- Wow, you open big!

- Yeah, go ahead.

- Course she's hammered...

or not particularly

coordinated,

but very hot.

Good call, Charlie.

Definite "yes".

- I'm not even saying that

I would sleep with her.

- Well, you're staring at her

pretty good.

- I would talk to her.

Uh, I would, uh...

- You would, uh...

- Uh, get to know her.

Um...

- OK!

- You know what? You live

your way, I'll live mine.

- Fine!

- Fine!

- Go begin

to get to know her then.

- Not today. I gotta pay

a condolence call to my aunt.

- Ugh.

- Let her pinch my cheek,

tell me how much

I look like my cousin.

Oh! Besides, she actually has

a girl she wants me to meet.

- You see, Charlie?

Everyone you know,

even your bereaved aunt,

is telling you

the same thing.

Live. Yes.

- Thank you.

# Whistle #

- Yes, I'm free

and I'm loving it!

Train, where are you?

Whoo-wee!

Choo-choo!

Choo-choo-choo!

Ah!

- Hey! Hey!

- Get off me!

- Once in your life

if you are very lucky,

you will meet the person

who divides it...

into the time

before you met her

and the time after.

But she was, you know,

obviously big trouble,

and--and I would've just

left it at that, except...

- Hey.

Hey! Give the gentleman

your seat!

Ha!

- Give me a break, all right?

- You're welcome.

You're welcome.

Darling.

Purse.

Purse!

- OK.

Not--not touching

you inappropriately.

OK, good.

I'm holding your waist.

Very specifically avoiding...

Yes.

Don't want a lawsuit.

OK.

Oh! Hey, yeah!

Hi! 5th and 11th.

- Is she dead?

- What? No!

She-- No!

She's--

She's not, uh... she's OK.

- OK.

- It's my, uh, my sister.

She's... good.

Aw!

Very heavy girl!

Not fat, just muscular.

I would assume,

'cause you're dense, as in--

Not stupid,

I mean, heavy.

Hey!

Behind you, Einstein!

Open--open the window!

- What are you doing

on the fire escape?

- Just open the window, man!

- That's the girl from

before. You drugged her?

Are you crazy?

- No!

- Did anyone see you?

- Just the lobby guard

and the rickshaw guy.

- This is what happens

to the repressed ones.

One day they just snap!

Why'd you bring her here?

- She was passed out

in the subway!

- I said talk to her,

not knock her unconscious.

Just-- here.

Head first. Head first.

- OK.

- Watch her head.

- Just give ma second.

- Come on!

- OK, OK.

- Oh, there you are.

- OK, she likes me.

Oh, she smells

like tequila.

- Let's keep her alive.

- OK!

- This is a very limp girl.

- Oh boy!

Oh boy!

- Well, we're in trouble.

- Purse.

- So you brought her home?

- I couldn't very well leave

her on a subway bench, right?

- Which makes this,

technically, kidnapping.

- Eventually, she will wake up,

she will take the walk

of shame out of here

and that'll be that.

- So, did you

talk to her?

- Not really.

- What's she like?

Is she nice?

- I'm not sure, but...

I don't think so.

- Security.

Open the door!

- We aren't even in real jail.

We're in university jail.

- I know.

This is so humiliating!

- Hey, Bellow!

Oh, I'm gonna be watching you!

You're on my radar!

- OK, um, I--I understand

and I thank you f-for

following due process on this--

- Go, Charlie!

- I respect what

you're doing. Thank you!

- Watch it, Bellow!

- Hello.

- Who are you?

- Uh, who are you?

- Who are you?

- Who are you?

- I'm the girl you abducted

this afternoon.

- Oh! Um, how did you

get this number?

- Oh, security was only

too happy.

I have all your information!

- Why are you

asking me who I am?

- I'm not asking who you are.

I'm asking

who you think you are.

- You know what?

I don't have time--

- Meet me at the Spike Gallery,

6th and 4th.

- Um, no.

- Why not?

- Because the

Tiller King representative

is coming to campus this week.

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