Nuestros amantes Page #6

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- No!

- Why not?

- Because I thought...

Don't think so much!

I thought she'd see it

as a lack of respect...

Probably, but perhaps

your lack of respect

would have driven her wild.

Did you ever think that?

I couldn't ask her.

I couldn't say the words, even with

Capote whispering them in my ear.

No.

Not Capote.

Bukowski's better for that.

Try it.

Imagine I'm your wife,

you're Bukowski,

and you want

to make endless love to me.

Action!

No, no, no.

This is ridiculous.

Hey!

Play with me, Manic Elf.

Mara,

we have to talk.

Not now, Charles.

I'm reading the Bible.

I had a win at the racetrack.

I've drunk two gallons of wine

and I've just written

"The F*** Machine."

Now

I just want...

Bukowski would say

"a piece of my ass"

A generous piece of your fresh ass.

I want to tear off your clothes,

rip your panties,

throw myself on you...

And thrust into me?

And thrust lecherously into you,

with euphoria,

with brute force.

I want to flatten your body

and drill it

until f***ing Truman Capote

is blushing at the gates of Hell!

Well?

I really liked that kiss.

Wait till I take it up a level!

I've never slept with anyone

without knowing her name.

Nor I with an alien

possessed by Bukowski.

Replacing Capote with Bukowski

was brilliant.

A substitution

worthy of Vicente del Bosque.

We needed someone to score.

Why did we do it?

Chesterton said that a mystery story

is worthless without a corpse.

I think the same about a love story

without a good screw.

Is this a love story?

Well, it isn't

a paranormal thriller.

You know what?

I miss my mistresses.

Have you had many?

No.

Technically, only you.

I only slept with girlfriends.

That's why I'm saying it.

I miss the mistresses

I've never had.

My lovers were very unmissable.

But we'll drink to all of them.

To our lovers.

Carlos?

Hello, Mara.

Jorge!

Irene.

- My pleasure, Irene.

- Likewise, Carlos.

What is going on here?

Irene is the girl who was left

by the guy for whom you left me.

I didn't leave you for anyone.

Mara,

you're a cynic.

A f***ing cynic!

What's so funny?

Nothing, nothing.

I'm sorry.

You had to bring him

to our favorite place.

You brought him here

when you started screwing his wife.

That's a very bitter metaphor,

especially for you.

It isn't a metaphor.

He followed his wife to you

and then followed you here

the day you left me.

Now do you get it?

How long have you been involved?

About two hours.

How many months

have you been with him?

I'm not with him.

He's just a friend that I met.

And what you did the other day,

what did he call it?

Oh, yes!

"The best blow job of my life".

That was a friendly gesture?

In two hours you've learned

all about being coarse.

You didn't give him

the best blow job of his life?

No, Carlos, no!

I didn't give him

the best blow job of his life.

Too bad.

Because a while ago

his ex gave me mine.

I wasn't the cause

of their break-up.

Who was?

Yoko Ono?

Irene, you don't have to consult

the entire works of Freud

to see that

their relationship is dead.

Jorge,

this may be terrible for your ego,

but reading a book on psychology

doesn't make you into Freud,

just like watching soccer on the TV

doesn't make you into Messi.

So don't try to be smart.

If you hadn't stuck your little dick

into that relationship,

I think they'd still be together,

and maybe even happy.

Stop denying it.

It's too pathetic.

When I rang, and you called me

a common paranoid,

you didn't hang up properly.

I heard everything.

No.

I don't know

what you think you heard,

- what you imagine, but...

- This.

It was probably a crossed line.

That isn't me.

You know that.

Mara... Mara...

Mara...

You're right, it's not you.

Forgive me.

- I'm a common paranoid.

- Stop it.

Turn it off!

What is there between you two?

I'm fine.

What?

You asked me the other day,

remember?

Don't worry about me.

I'm fine.

You hate me.

Not you.

But I'm not too fond

of the girl in the recording.

One day I woke up,

I looked around and...

I felt I wasn't alive.

That same day, he appeared.

Why him?

Why not?

It could have been anyone.

Anyone who wasn't you.

Thank you for that morale booster.

Ask me again if I hate you.

- I'm not saying this to hurt you.

- Just as well!

- Do you want the truth or not?

- No.

But tell me.

Seeing you with her

suddenly made me feel alive.

- Where's the logic in that?

- There is none.

I'm not trying to be logical

but it's like...

It's like I gave away my car

to buy one that's faster

but really it's worse.

"Give me 24 hours to prove I'm the

woman of your dreams" worked better.

Would you give them to me again?

What can they be talking about?

About how wonderful you are.

Thank you for your irony.

It's just what I need.

Look,

they've been together eight years,

they have a daughter.

What do you think

they're talking about?

How's Laura?

She misses you.

You tell better stories than I do.

Do you think they'll make up?

It isn't easy

to put an end to eight years.

Even for you.

It's hard to believe

you ever loved me,

to judge by your words.

It's impossible to believe

that you ever loved me,

to judge by your actions.

You, Sack,

go out and talk to her.

It's over, isn't it?

I loved you, Jorge.

I loved you.

Nice moment.

Thank you.

Was that goodbye?

Yes.

I thought about going back

but I reminded myself too much

of Ditsy and Bozo.

What can your wife be telling him?

That she saw me kissing a cutie,

the kind that would make even

the Pope become a crack dealer,

and she went mad with jealousy.

I told you.

She wants back with you?

Yes, she suggested it.

You see?

That's why I forbade you

to fall in love with me.

Imagine the mess you'd be in now!

I've got a pretty good idea.

Any questions?

All real clichs.

Shall I ask and you answer?

It's a deal.

Am I going back to her?

Your head thinks

your daughter and your marriage

deserve another attempt.

And what does my heart say?

That you should listen to your head.

Will we miss each other?

Every time we drink to our lovers.

Because I won't see you again,

will I?

She wouldn't understand.

But it isn't unusual for Pixies

and Elves to meet in dreams.

I hate soppy endings.

But don't forget me, OK?

I never forget a girl

who's impossible to forget.

That's a good last line.

"That's a good last line"?

She said that?

She said that.

I'll write it down, because

that really is a good last line.

She made an elegant exit,

with class.

She even said goodbye to Mara.

She's got guts.

And before she left, she gave me

a list of her ten favorite books.

Even though I had some already,

I bought them all.

Do you regret it?

Buying books I had?

Letting the one

who recommended them get away.

If I told you the truth,

I'd be lying.

I'll write that down too.

F***! I know

you can't have everything.

I know that. But it shouldn't

have ended like this.

We still had a month!

Do you know what we would have

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