Pump Up the Volume Page #4

Yeah, you gut me.

My insides spill on your altar

and tell the future.

My steaming, gleaming guts

spell out your nature.

I know you--

not your name, but your game.

I know the true you.

Come to me,

or I'll come to you.

So, you are him.

Don't worry. I'm not going

to bust you or anything.

Aren't you going to ask

who I am?

No, I don't think so. No.

I'm the "eat me, beat me" lady.

You don't believe me?

I know you--

not your name, but your game.

I know the true you.

Come to me, or I'll come to you.

Hey, relax. I'm not really

like that except when I am.

Look, I really can't

handle this right now, OK?

It's not your fault.

I was listening last night.

I didn't think

he'd go through with it.

We heard about Malcolm Kaiser.

We're just wondering

if you knew him.

No, not really.

I'm going to ask you something.

Your mother and l

have been talking...

and I guess we realized that--

Mark, basically, we thought...

that you might benefit

from seeing a psychiatrist.

Is it that obvious?

No, honey, of course not.

We think you're perfect.

lt just seems that here you're

so sad and lonely all the time.

And we want you to feel

good about yourself.

You have friends

in New York, hon.

Are you trying to meet people

here at all?

lt was never--

I know this sounds stupid...

but have you ever just walked

up to a girl here and said hi?

Look, the girls here,

they're different.

I can't talk to them.

How are they different?

I was talking to

your English teacher today--

Come on, Dad, please.

It's creepy enough there

without you snooping around.

She says that you've got

a great promise as a writer...

but that you're having

trouble concentrating.

So, when is Johnny

going to concentrate, huh?

Get happy, get a girlfriend...

and then write

a best seller, huh?

Fine! You don't listen.

You don't talk to me.

You hate everything.

I can't talk to you people.

I'm certainly not going

to a shrink.

Everybody's got problems,

not just you...

but you won't solve them

if you don't communicate!

You've got to talk to somebody!

OK, he's gone.

He's gone back downstairs.

And so, family and friends

of Malcolm Kaiser...

sadly come and go

into the night...

even as phantom DJ Hard Harry...

prepares to broadcast

anonymously from somewhere...

in this formerly peaceful

community.

Shep Sheppard reporting live

from Paradise Hills, Arizona.

Back to you, Bill.

Thank you, Shep, for that--

Yeah, back to you.

lf it be your will

That I speak no more

And my voice be still

As it was before

I will speak no more

I shall abide

Until

I am spoken for

lf it be your will

You see,

I never planned it like this.

My dumb dad got me

this shortwave radio set...

so I could just speak

to my friends back east.

But I couldn't reach anybody...

so I just thought

I was talking to nobody.

But I imagine nobody listening.

Maybe I imagine

that one person out there.

Anyway, one day I woke up...

and I realized I was never

going to be normal...

so I said, "F*** it."

I said, "So be it..."

and Happy Harry Hard-on

was born.

But I never meant

to hurt anyone.

Honestly...

I never meant to hurt anyone.

I'm sorry, Malcolm.

I never said...

don't do it.

I'm sorry.

Anyway...that's it.

The show's over.

I'm done.

Stick a fork in me.

It's been grand.

This is Hard Harry

saying sayonara.

Over and out.

Come on, you can't do this.

This is a joke, right?

Come on, Harry, baby,

don't stiff.

What am I doing?

F*** it.

You hear about some kid,

did something stupid--

something desperate.

What possessed him?

How could he do

such a terrible thing?

Well, come here.

It's really quite simple,

actually.

Consider the life

of a teenager, huh?

You have parents and teachers

telling you what to do.

You have movies, magazines,

and TV telling you what to do...

but you know

what you have to do.

Your job, your purpose...

is to get accepted,

get a cute girlfriend...

think up something great to do

for the rest of your life.

What if you're confused

and can't imagine a career?

What if you're funny-looking

and can't get a girlfriend?

You see,

no one wants to hear it.

But the terrible secret...

is that being young...

is sometimes less fun

than being dead.

This is great.

He's making it worse.

Suicide is wrong, but the

interesting thing about it...

is how uncomplicated it seems.

You know?

There you are,

you got all these problems...

swarming around in your brain,

and here is one simple--

one incredibly simple solution.

I'm just surprised it doesn't

happen every day around here.

Now, they're going to say I said

offing yourself was simple...

but no, no, no, it's not simple.

Like everything else,

you have to read the fine print.

For instance, assuming that

there is a Heaven...

who would ever want to go there?

You know?

I mean, think about it.

It's cool. You're sitting there

up on this cloud.

It's nice, you know, it's quiet.

There's no teachers...

there's no parents,

but guess what?

There's nothing to do.

It's f***ing boring.

Another thing to remember

about suicide...

is that it is not

a pretty picture.

First of all,

you sh*t your shorts.

You know?

So, there you are, dead.

People are weeping

over you, crying.

Girls you never spoke to

are saying, "Why? Why? Why?"

And you have a load

in your shorts.

That's the way I see it.

Sue me.

Now, they're saying I shouldn't

think stuff like this.

They're saying that something

is wrong with me...

that I should be ashamed.

Well...

I'm sick of being ashamed.

I mean, aren't you?

Sick to death.

I don't mind being

dejected and rejected...

but I'm not going

to be ashamed about it.

Hallelujah.

At least pain is real.

You look around,

and you see nothing is real...

but at least pain is real.

Even this show isn't real.

This isn't me.

I'm using a voice disguiser.

I'm a phony f***

just like my dad.

Just like anybody.

The real me is just as worried

as the rest of you.

They say I'm disturbed.

Of course I'm disturbed!

We're all disturbed,

and if we're not, why not?

Doesn't this blend of

blindness and blandness...

want to make you

do something crazy?

Then why not do something crazy?

lt makes a hell

of a lot more sense...

than blowing

your f***ing brains out!

Go nuts! Go crazy!

Get creative!

You got problems?

You just chuck 'em.

Nuke 'em!

They think you're moody?

Make them think you're crazy.

Make them think you might snap!

They think you've got attitude?

You show them

some real attitude.

I mean, go nuts!

Get crazy!

No more Mr. Nice Guy!

Oh, God!

God! Yeah!

Happy Harry Hard-on!

Time out.

This is good.

This is very, very interesting.

Hi, it's me.

You're on the air.

Are you willing

to tell my listeners...

what you told me here

in this letter?

I think they're ready

to handle it.

I'm not ashamed.

So, tell us what happened.

This guy I knew, he invited me

up to the ridge...

and, well,

I wasn't really sure why...

but I was really happy,

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