The Angriest Man in Brooklyn Page #3

end your career, destroy your life...

and enjoy a splendid holiday in Tuscany.

Fabulous.

I'm throwing a get-together

for the following people...

Frieda Minkle, she was my first crush.

Mrs. Haberstein, my third grade teacher.

Thomas Friel,

he was my law school mentor.

Bix Field, my oldest friend. I sent

you an e-mail with the complete list.

Yeah, I got it. Twenty-five people?

Is this some sort of post-midlife crisis?

No, it's more like a pre-shiva.

Just tell them it's extremely, extremely

important to meet me at Juniors in...

30 minutes.

- You know that's insane?

- Just-Just get it done.

Write obit.

Get drunk.

Tommy.

Four years at Andover.

Four years at Penn.

Three years at NYU.

$428,000 so you could fox-trot,

so you could mambo?

Yeah, and who taught me to love dancing?

I love bagels! Doesn't mean

you should be a bagel maker!

- So this is funny to you.

- No! And you know it isn't!

What I know is

if I don't do this now, I never will.

I had a thousand of these printed.

Look, "Altmann, Altmann and Altmann."

Not "Altmann, Altmann and Dancing Boy"!

Not "Altmann, Altmann and Twinkle Toes"!

You printed those for Peter.

You didn't print them for me.

I'm not Peter, Dad.

Good luck ruining your life!

Brooklyn Dance Academy, dancing that

anyone can learn. Can you hold please?

Uh... Sh*t.

Brooklyn Dance Academy,

dancing that anyone can learn. Hold please.

Yeah... Goddamn it.

Brooklyn Dance Academy, dancing that

anyone can learn. How can I help you?

- Yes! Is Thomas Altmann there?

- Who may I say is calling?

Henry Altmann.

Tom, uh, Henry Altmann is on the phone.

Sh*t. Sorry.

God. From the kicks.

What's he want?

Probably wants me

to pay him back for law school.

Aren't you curious?

Whatever my father wants,

it can wait till we get back from Paris.

- Tom.

- Take a message!

Again.

In 30 minutes or less.

At Juniors.

No, I don't know.

If you could just pass on the message.

Thank you.

Turn and push.

Over there.

Okay. Hi.

Um, I need to see Henry Altmann.

And you are?

Sharon Gill. Dr. Gill.

Do you have an appointment?

I don't. I'm sorry, it's

an emergency, so...

- Sorry, but he's gone out.

- May I help you?

Hi. Um, I don't know.

I need to see Henry Altmann.

- I'm Henry's brother, Aaron Altmann.

- Oh. Hey.

Um, I'm Dr. Gill.

Pleasure. How can I be of service?

Is there somewhere private we can talk?

- Come on.

- Thank you.

Henry was fully committed...

to make tender love

to his wife one last time.

But there were concerns.

For one, he couldn't remember

the last time they'd done it.

A year ago? Maybe more.

Henry also wondered what was

the appropriate position for a last shtup?

He assumed spooning must be involved.

Then again, he had read

that condemned prisoners...

often asked for peanut butter and jelly

sandwiches as their last meal.

Certainly, the missionary position

was the PB&J of sex.

And, of course, there

was Henry's biggest concern.

Would he be able to raise the flag at all?

As Henry ran, he prayed,

not for a medical miracle...

but for the simple ability to get it up.

I know I shouldn't be telling you this...

and it's going against every protocol...

but, um...

your brother was diagnosed with a brain

aneurysm and is refusing treatment.

Oh, God.

Well, uh...

- are you his doctor?

- Yes.

Well, no. I mean, I'm filling in

for his doctor, Dr. Fielding.

And this diagnosis is definite?

I'm afraid so.

He... He was just here...

and I was awful.

You didn't know.

I knew something was strange.

But with Henry,

there's always something sort of strange.

He had a son, Peter. Great kid.

Died two years ago

in a hunting accident, of all things.

Henry's never been the same since.

We used to have lunch together every day.

He would bring

a brown paper bag in and we...

Two sandwiches.

One for him, one for me.

We talked about everything.

And now we don't talk

about anything anymore.

Wait. Ninety minutes.

How can you be sure it's only 90 minutes?

That's a misunderstanding.

How do you misunderstand that?

The important thing is

we find your brother...

and get him admitted

to a hospital immediately.

He went home.

Bette, it's Aaron.

I'm on my way to your apartment.

Call me back on my cell.

It's an emergency. Any instructions?

Oh, um. Make sure that he remains calm.

Nothing that raises his blood pressure.

- Like?

- Anger.

And you've met my brother?

Henry, I thought you were working late.

Frank, hi. Get out.

- What's going on?

- He needs to leave!

He's our neighbor!

No, no. I need you alone.

Why?

Because we have to have sex immediately

and then cuddle.

What, are you nuts?

No, no. I just wanna have a moment,

a husband and wife moment.

It'll be a good thing, a family thing.

I don't have a lot of time.

- I really think I should go.

- You stay.

- Go!

- You're staying!

Stop that! I don't care how crazy you are,

we are not having sex.

Oh, but, Bette, listen...

I know the last two years

have been tough...

and I didn't deal well with, you know...

and I've been erratic

and often pissed off at things.

- You think?

- But it doesn't mean I've stopped loving you in my own way.

And in the end, what is there?

Family. Our family.

And this is our default position,

me and you.

And making love to you is my way

of telling you I know what's important.

We can do it in the kitchen, if you like.

What the hell is the matter with you?

- Can't I make love to my wife?

- No.

- Why the hell not?

- Because sex isn't some magic switch you pull...

just because you're feeling

a momentary twinge of guilt.

- Guilt? What guilt?

- About being horrible?

- Who said I was horrible?

- Oh, I thought that part was obvious.

- What's he still doing here?

- I-I really-

You know what? Stay!

You always were a little bit of a jerk...

but you were an amusing jerk.

But since Peter, you're just a jerk!

I lost a son, for Christ's sake!

And I didn't?

You just can't honor the son we lost...

and you drove away the one

we do still have!

Tommy doesn't deserve that!

This has nothing to do with Tommy!

You never accepted his life choices!

Ballroom dancing is not a life choice...

it's a Tuesday night on a Fiesta cruise!

- F*** you!

- Yeah.

- Oh. You still want that husband and wife moment?

- Maybe.

Do you even remember

the last time we had sex?

- Yeah! Um...

- Well, I don't!

Because I have sex all the time,

just not with you!

Frank?

- No way!

- Why not Frank?

Duh. Standards.

What standards?

He's not in your league!

He's not even playing the same sport!

We love each other!

Oh! Puke! Ohh!

He is patient, kind and here!

So's a spaniel! Get a pet!

I wish you were dead!

- Well, it's your lucky f***ing day!

- Ohh! Ohh!

Tompkins and Kane.

There's a big tip in it if you can

get us there in under five minutes.

Not possible.

Of course it's possible.

Speed, run red lights.

But, no, there's no need to speed, right?

- It's a medical emergency.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes