The Angriest Man in Brooklyn Page #2

- I don't know.

- How long?

- I don't know!

- How long?

- Oh. I can't breathe.

- Give me a number.

A number.

Give me a number!

A number, a number, a number, a number.

I'm not leaving here

till I get a goddamn number!

- Ninety!

- Ninety what?

Minutes!

- That's your professional opinion?

- Yeah.

Well, f*** you!

You asked.

Ninety!

Hey, see this watch? See it?

It belonged to my father.

He lived to 90!

Ninety years!

You wanna know what happens

in 90 minutes?

That's 6:
22! 6:22 p.m.

I'm gonna be alive!

I'm gonna be having a beer!

And I'm gonna be smiling!

I'm gonna be smiling

because you will have been fired.

That's right,

I'm calling the C.E.O. Of this HMO...

and getting your potty little ass canned!

Dead prick!

Doctor c*nt!

Oh, f*** me!

Taxi!

Yo, taxi!

Downtown Brooklyn.

Even though Henry

knew 90 minutes was illogical...

the more he thought

about her prognosis, her curse...

the more it took on weight.

What if? What if?

He seemed to remember that

there were four or five stages to death.

What are you doing?

Drive on the sidewalk!

I don't wanna die behind a cement truck!

Anger was

certainly one of them. Check that.

Was not denial another?

What was he denying, the 90 minutes?

What if he, Henry Altmann,

really was going to die at 6:22?

What the holy f*** should I be doing?

Tell Mr. Altmann it's very important.

Can you please just have him call me?

Okay, thank you.

- Is it true?

- What?

- Is it true?

- What true?

Everybody's going around

saying you told some patient...

that he has 90 hours to live.

No!

I didn't think so, 'cause that's crazy.

That's...

What?

Nothing.

- You did!

- No, I didn't!

- I knew it!

- I didn't.

- Everybody's saying you did!

- Jordan, be quiet!

- Told a guy he had 90...

- Would you get in the room?

I know! I know! He just kept yelling...

"Give me a number!

Give me a number! A number."

And I couldn't breathe,

and I panicked and I totally lost it.

Apparently.

God, I... Ooh, I hated him.

Well, that one I can't fault you on.

We all hate our patients.

What's wrong with the guy anyway?

Cerebral aneurysm.

And you let him walk out of here?

- That wasn't the plan!

- Christ!

I was trying to send him

to Bernstein, okay?

Seriously, Christ, Sharon.

I know, I know.

I'm horrible. I'm a horrible person.

I have been trying to get a hold of him.

I've called his cell, his home, his work,

and he just won't pick up.

Why are you looking at me so funny?

What's up with your eyes right now?

Are you high?

Not now. I'm serious.

- For real?

- Yeah, for real!

Sharon, this is bad.

There's gonna be consequences.

You could get suspended.

You could lose your license.

He wasn't even my patient!

He was Fielding's!

I was just covering for him!

"Oh, I wanna spend the weekend

with my family.

I have kids. I have a life."

Stupid, back-stabbing motherf***er!

- I warned you.

- No, you didn't.

Yes, I did.

He said he was gonna get a divorce, okay?

He said that he loved me. He...

Human emotion, I find it very off-putting.

Let's focus on the logic.

Like the patient. What's the guy's name?

Altmann. Henry Altmann.

Okay, Henry Altmann.

That's a great name.

That sounds like a very wholesome,

nice family man's name.

I'm sure this is not the type of guy

who's gonna freak out...

file complaints, just go totally nuts

on you, trying to ruin your career.

Ohh.

Okay, I'm getting the impression

maybe he is that type of guy.

This is bad.

This is miscommunication, is what this is.

I need to get him admitted

to a hospital today, for his own good...

and then he's somebody else's problem.

Then he's Bernstein's problem. Right?

Can't hurt.

I have to find Henry Altmann.

A Dr. Gill has been calling for you.

- Where's Aaron?

- She said it was extremely important.

Where's Aaron?

In the meeting.

148 and 65 Charles Street.

There is a six-month advance on the one

and a six-month delinquency on the other.

My long-lost brother.

What if you pick up

the pending violations on 148?

- Garbage.

- And boiler.

- I have a question.

- About the boiler?

No, I need some advice.

A client, he just found out

he has 90 minutes to live.

- What should I tell him to do?

- Henry, we really need to get back to this now.

- I know what I would do.

- What?

Cry.

For the first 20 minutes.

Then I'd go to that Thai massage place

on York and get a blowj*b.

I'd go to Temple Israel, pray a little,

make a nice big donation.

Can we get back to this now?

- Me, I think I'd kill someone.

- Why?

For the social good.

Some deeply evil schmuck.

- Like who?

- We live in Brooklyn. How hard could it be?

I got a joke. Hang on a second.

Man goes to see a doctor, and he's told

that he only has 10 hours to live.

It's a terrible shock.

What's he gonna do?

So he picks up the phone

and he calls his wife, and he says...

"Honey, I'm gonna take you to the Four

Seasons, the best restaurant in town...

and we're gonna eat everything

on the menu.

And then, we're gonna go

to the Rainbow Room...

where we're gonna dance all hours,

like we were young again.

And then, finally, home,

where we will make mad, passionate love...

till all hours of the night,

until, at last, at dawn...

I will die in your loving arms.

What do you think of that?"

And the wife says, "Easy for you.

You don't have to get up in the morning."

- Henry.

- What?

Tell your client to go home, make love

to his wife one last time and be happy.

In the end...

all we have is family.

Family?

You're right.

Family. Thanks.

You're not gonna be billing us

for this crap, are you?

Hey, hey, Henry, wait up!

- Where you going?

- Home.

You know, if you want out

of the meeting just say so...

or don't show up like you always do...

but this bullshit is really annoying.

Is this gonna take a long time?

You know, you're getting worse.

You know that, right,

that you're getting worse?

- I got a lot to do.

- In 90 minutes?

Less.

Family?

Yeah, family.

So, what, brothers don't count?

Because we got a lot of work to do.

I'm thinking, you know, immediate family.

Like Bette, Tommy.

What?

Well, uh, come on, Henry.

Bette and Tommy?

You and Bette have done nothing

but fight for two years. And Tommy?

What do you know about family, Aaron?

The only family you've got is a goldfish.

I know your family, your immediate family.

Reconciliation in 90 minutes?

Take the Thai blowj*bs.

- Ah! Okay.

- Yeah.

- I love you.

- Okay.

- See you around.

- You're still crazy.

Oh. Hey!

Where are you?

I'm trying to hail a cab.

I'm going to his office.

Look, I pulled the guy's file.

He complains about everything.

He's a complete crackpot,

limited credibility, to say the least.

Now, do you want the big news?

- Yeah.

- I had Gary in Radiology take a look at the scans.

Turns out, this guy's already

got bleeding through the wall.

He actually could drop dead

at any second.

He could also live long enough to...

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