The Squid and the Whale

Mom and me versus you and Dad.

- Long.

- That looked pretty good.

- It was out.

- It did look good.

- Frank, it was out.

- It's my call. Out.

If you can, try and hit it

at your mother's backhand.

- It's pretty weak.

- Got it.

- Yes!

- Don't gloat, Walt.

Five games to three, us.

- F***! Come on, Bernard.

- Bernard, don't curse.

I'm cursing at myself.

- Nice shot.

- Thanks.

- Walt, watch out.

- It's part of the game.

Fifteen-love.

Joan, I'm sorry. It was an accident.

You gotta get a second serve.

Frank.

Did you just put that peanut up your nose?

Cashew. Yes.

Pickle, that is such

an idiotic, stupid thing to do.

No, it's out. I got it.

We're reading A Tale of Two Cities

in English. Is that any good?

It's minor Dickens.

Popular in schools.

But I think David Copperfield

or Great Expectations is much richer.

What is it about high school that you read...

...all the worst books

by good writers?

You should read it and see what you think of it.

I don't wanna waste my time.

What are you doing?

Just fixing up the couch.

- Did you sleep there?

- Yeah, our bed is hurting my back.

Isn't the couch worse

than the bed? For backs?

No. This is better.

When does Mom's story come out in the magazine?

It's not a magazine.

It's a literary journal.

Next month, I think.

It'll be weird having two writers as parents.

Yeah, well, Dad influenced her.

She never wrote before she met him.

I haven't read any of Dad's books.

I've looked at them. They're great.

Very dense.

He needs a new agent.

It's been too long.

The publishing world isn't receptive

always to real literary talent.

Maybe Mom will be famous instead.

- No, Dad's the writer.

- Maybe Mom's better.

That's way off base, Frank.

That's way off base.

Ivan hit with Arthur Ashe once.

Wasn't he ranked, like, 402 or something?

Ivan could've been a champ

if he hadn't hurt his knee.

Okay, my brother, let's see some groundstrokes.

You gotta ease up, my brother.

Jimmy Connors hits as hard as he can...

...but we can't all get away

with that, right?

All right, let's see the backhand.

Two hands. Two hands.

Hey, my brother.

Who taught you these junkyard strokes?

My Dad. He's self-taught.

I heard that. Hey, Bernard.

You teaching my brother here

these junkyard chip shots?

A one-handed backhand

is an elegant stroke.

My brother here doesn't want

a weak chip shot for a backhand.

- I don't care.

- It's McEnroe's stroke.

He's the master of the chip game.

- All right, fellas, that's it for today.

- Ivan, you wanna hit a little?

I got a few minutes.

Frank, you and Carl hang out.

Give me your racquet.

- Are you interested in any arts?

- I wouldn't mind being a pro.

It's very hard to be a professional player.

As good as even Ivan is, he's not in

a league with McEnroe or Connors.

Oh, I don't mean a pro like that.

I mean, like a pro

at the bubble. Like Ivan.

You don't wanna be a pro.

I'm sure I've lost my parking space.

We're gonna have to drive around.

- Can you drop me off?

- No.

I picked you up, the least you can do

is ride around with me.

Terrific, honeys.

- Walt, did you write that song?

- Yes.

- Frank had some good ideas too.

- Very dense. Very interesting.

Yeah. I signed up for the talent thing

they have at school.

Great. Just make sure

you practice a lot.

Mom, I'll be fine.

Remember, you'll be in front of a lot of people.

- Don't ruin the whole thing for me.

- You'll win.

If you don't, something's wrong with them.

Which is probably the case, actually.

People can be very stupid.

I'll get it.

Walt, you wanna come to my class

tomorrow after school?

- Yeah.

- Could I come?

You have tennis. You're gonna be

doing that, which is its own thing.

- Look how young Dad looks.

- That's funny. Dad, can I have this?

- Okay.

- Would you write something in it?

Thanks.

"I absorb sex indiscriminately,

numb and impartial.

I suck men of their interiors.

A f*** that unites John, Dan, Scott, whomever...

...in the popular lust

and paternal hunt for my possession.

He was a large man, though his arms were thin.

The upper part soft, but not fleshy.

Like a young woman's.

He had long, delicate fingers and

plump palms similar to a raccoon's.

With finesse, he plied the meat

from a crab claw...

...and sucked oysters

from their shells."

She's a very risky writer, Lili.

Very racy.

I mean, exhibiting her c*nt

in that fashion is very racy.

Lili has her influences in postmodern

literature, a bit derivative of Kafka.

But for a student, very racy.

- Did you get that it was her c*nt?

- Oh, yeah.

- Did you like it?

- Yeah. A lot.

You'd like Kafka, one of my predecessors.

- Particularly The Metamorphosis.

- Metamorphosis?

No f***ing spaces.

- I'll keep you company while we look.

- Thank you.

Dad, what were your wives like before Mom?

"Wife," really.

The first one was annulled.

- I was 1 9.

- What was she like?

- The annulled one?

- No, the one you'd call a wife.

Difficult.

That's Mom.

Yeah, that's Mom.

What was she wearing?

No, I guess I've seen that before.

What are you writing?

I'm working on the Peugeot story.

Did you take my note about the ending?

- Some of it.

- Does he still die?

- Yeah.

- Then you didn't take my note.

Boys, make sure you come home

right after school.

- Why?

- We're having a family conference.

- What's that?

- A talk. Just come home.

- What about?

- We'll go over it tonight.

- Can't you give us a hint?

- No, just-- Tonight.

We'll go-- Everything--

We'll go over it tonight.

Just waiting for your mother.

- Mom.

- Sorry.

- Okay.

- Okay. All set?

Yes.

Okay.

Your mom and I....

Okay, yeah. Mom and I are going....

We're going to separate.

You're not gonna be leaving either of us.

We're gonna have joint custody.

Frank, it's okay.

I've got an elegant new house across the park.

Across the park?

- ls that even Brooklyn?

- It's only five stops on the subway.

It's an elegant block.

The fillet of the neighborhood.

- We'll have a Ping-Pong table.

- I don't play Ping-Pong.

- We'll both see you equally.

- How?

- We're splitting up the week.

- Why?

I love you. I wanna see you

as much as your mom does.

- But there's seven days.

- Right.

How will you split evenly with seven days?

I've got you Tuesday, Wednesday and

Saturday and every other Thursday.

- Every other?

- That's how we each have you equally.

That was your father's idea.

- Don't do this.

- How will we get to school?

There's a subway four blocks from the house.

Four or five.

No more than six blocks.

And what about the cat?

- Sh*t, the cat.

- We didn't discuss the cat.

Your father will pick him up on those

days when you switch houses.

I'll drive here two more times a week?

You got a place on the other side of the park.

If it was near here, it wouldn't be a problem.

This neighborhood

got expensive. It's painful...

...for me to stay in this neighborhood.

Don't be difficult. I feel banished.

Oh, Pickle.

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