The Last Time Page #6

Ted?

He's kidding.

We've got like 20 companies lined up | to do business with us.

He does that thing...

You know, why don't you just go | and sell blue-haired old soap bags

to ladies, old ladies with gray hair | who piss their pants.

- I'm gone. | - Yeah, well. Your stomach's making me turn.

He'll be back.

What?

You prick.

You weak, f***ing, Midwestern

bad suit and stupid haircut | motherfucking prick!

Ted.

You know how important | that f***ing guy is to us?

I'm just trying to be like you.

What?

You f***.

Wow, you really are a f***ing loser.

How the f*** did I get stuck with this guy?

F***ing waste of time, these conferences.

But they make great theater, right?

You look familiar.

- You work for me? | - No, I'm over at Bineview.

- Bineview. | - Yeah.

Our illustrious neighbor.

Food.

What do you need here, man? Jaime.

- Hey, Ted. | - Hey.

I'm sorry to bother you | when you're not feeling well.

No, no, no, no, it's good. | Don't worry about it.

Okay.

- Do you want to come in? | - For a drink?

Well, I mean, | I don't really have anybody here.

I don't have anything here, so... | I don't keep any alcohol here.

- No, it's all right. | - Yeah.

- What are you doing? | - I got something for you.

This.

- Why? | - 'Cause you won the bet.

And I don't even think | I'm gonna get one sale at this point.

I can't catch you,

and I even managed to f*** up that | easy one that you handed me last week.

Hey, take this stupid f***ing thing.

Jaime, take this. I don't want it.

Come on, man, this is dumb. Take the thing. | Jaime, I don't want it. I don't want this.

I'll see you later, okay?

- Jaime, come on. | - Hope you feel better. Bye.

You know, you never told me | why you quit teaching.

- That was Jaime out there. | - What?

- He stopped by to give me this. | - Jesus.

- Did he know I was here? | - I don't know.

The guy's out there dying, | and we're in here f***ing all day.

Sh*t.

I can't believe this.

Would you move in here with me?

Just get started with your life right now.

It's not as simple as | just packing a bag, Ted.

I know, but the sooner you do it, | the easier it's gonna be.

Trust me, I know it.

I'm not one of your clients, Ted. | Don't sell me.

Look, I'm gonna tell him soon, I promise.

Yeah, it's okay. I'll make it | easier for both of us. Just go.

- I'm sorry. | - Yeah, I'm sorry, too. Just go.

Come on. Sit down and talk to me.

- Ted. | - Just go.

My future wife, that b*tch, | wants to take some time off.

Remember something, kid. | Marriage is not an accomplishment.

It's a choice. And it's the wrong one.

F*** this place.

Hey, Ted, | you're on your way to Frogers, right?

F*** off.

Hey, Ted, this is important.

Come on, we gotta close this deal! | I'm serious!

I'm just sick and tired | of dealing with this sh*t.

I never even wanted to move to New York.

She's the one that convinced me | to take this job.

Why was I dealing with her? | I don't know what I was thinking.

I've gotta f***ing stand up to this b*tch | or she's gonna walk all over me.

Then she f***ing delays the wedding. | Who the f*** is she to delay the wedding?

Hey, guys. Hold up.

- What do you want? | - Yeah, what do you want?

Nothing, really. | I just wanted to say goodbye.

- They let me go. | - They did?

Yeah, they're slashing people left and right.

I mean, it's happening in every office | from here to Tacoma.

Why don't you try Guardia?

I don't think they hit | their affirmative action quota yet.

Yeah, Poncho.

F*** you. At least I made one sale.

Who's your wife banging to keep your job?

What the f*** was that for?

Sorry.

F*** this, I'm out of here.

What are you f***ing looking at? | Just f*** off.

You want some, too?

Your fish seemed so lonely. I just...

I'm sorry.

I'm gonna ask him to move out tonight.

Is that what you want?

They finally fired that son of a b*tch Jaime.

- Bastard. | - What?

You made it to the final round of interviews.

- Well, I can't baby-sit you forever. | - Congratulations.

We're having our worst quarter ever | and he's getting a promotion?

Capitalism at its finest.

You get to go off to Chicago | while I'm stuck with that son of a b*tch,

who, by the way, | missed his last three appointments.

I know, John. You did everything you could.

The guy cost us Imprint Industries | for Christ's sakes.

I get it. I understand.

Listen, another thing, | don't worry about this quarter,

'cause I got Glyrade | and I've got Parker Plastics

and I've got Lange all coming in, | next 10 days.

All right. Good, good.

Well, looks like he's back on track, huh? | Thank God.

Yeah, when your sales start to get low | like his have, you're forced to be nice.

Yeah? Then why are you still such a prick?

F*** her.

Warned you not to go there.

- She's got a point. | - F*** off.

So, you ready for lunch?

We've got reservations at Mimosa | in about 20 minutes.

Not exactly.

Why? What's the matter?

What's he doing here?

He came over early this morning, crying.

What was I supposed to do, kick him out?

Did you know he'd been fired yesterday?

I know, I know. | You know, I did everything I could.

Well, now he's come to the conclusion | that life has no meaning.

He won't take his anti-depressants. | This is exactly what I was afraid of.

All right. What do you want me to do?

Just, can you get him off my hands | for a little bit, please?

Okay. What about lunch?

I need your help, please.

Okay. All right.

Okay. Let me do this.

- He takes anti-depressants? - Yeah, | he tells everybody they're vitamins.

No wonder he's so happy all the time.

- Hey! | - Hey! Riker!

- What the f*** are you doing here? | - I just...

- Do you mind? | - Sorry.

I heard about the job, | and I just wanted to see how you're doing.

Well, you know.

- Hey, listen, come on. Let's get out of here. | - Why?

- No, come on. Let's get... | - I got food, I can sketch.

- Bring your sketch pad. | - Really?

- I'm starved. I'm buying. | - That's a great idea, man. I'd like that.

Let's go.

No, I'm gonna stay here.

Come on. Come on.

You need to get out of here, | cheer you up or something. Come on.

- What are you so happy about? | - I don't know.

- Just in a good mood, I guess. | - Nobody's f***ing happy, Ted.

Nobody is f***ing happy. | Someone told me that once.

Matter of fact, I'm gonna drive, okay? | Let's get the f*** out of here.

- All right. | - See you later, honey. Be good. Come on.

Okay.

Wow.

- Move it! | - Watch the f***ing road.

Don't you think...

Don't you think that you're taking | this misery thing a little too far?

How dour should I be? | My fiance is seeing someone.

Who, Belisa?

Please, I found a book of matches | in her coat pocket

from some restaurant in Atlantic City.

She's not smart enough | to find AC on her own.

- Wait, you snooped through her things? | - Hell, yeah, I did.

Aren't you the one who said | that I shouldn't trust anybody?

- Yeah, but... | - Especially a woman?

Is that what you said?

Yeah, but I mean, when I said that...

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