The World According to Garp Page #2

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All right, same thing! Bottom man down!

Let's go. Ready?

Ten seconds!

Hold him!

Five!

Four! Three! Two!

Okay, gentlemen, that's it.

Hit the showers.

Hey, Garp, how are you doing?

Why can't basketball players father a child?

Because they're ugly.

No, because they dribble

before they shoot.

- What's the definition of a brassiere?

- I don't know, what?

It's an over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder.

- And what's the definition of a girdle?

- I don't know.

It's a lower-decker-pecker-checker.

My father wore a helmet. He was a flyer.

- Can you fly?

- No.

Garp?

- Jesus Christ!

- What's she doing here?

- Spare me your modesty.

- Why can't Santa Claus father a child?

Because he comes down a chimney.

Garp, what are you doing in here?

We've got a big meeting tomorrow,

so no beating the meat tonight!

- I want to do what they do.

- Animals!

Garp?

Mom!

Garp?

Mom, help me!

Help! Mom, help!

- Dean Blodger!

- Who's on the roof?

I'm afraid!

Garp, I'm here.

I'm going to come up and get you.

Stay very still.

Hold tight. It's all right.

Get your mattresses!

Something to cushion the fall!

I wanted to fly!

I understand. It's all right.

Now carefully, give me your foot.

Get the mattresses close together...

...right next to the building

so he can fall on them. Hurry, boys!

Give me your free foot.

A little bit more over. There we are!

I've got you! I'm not going to let go!

All right? I'm not going to let go of you.

You'll be all right.

Quickly.

Now, slowly take your foot

out of the gutter.

That's a good boy. Take it out.

I've got you, son, I've got you!

Miss Fields.

- Yes?

- What about Dean Blodger?

Bring him in to the infirmary.

Let's go, boys. Everybody back inside.

Hey, everybody inside.

Get the mattresses.

You sure like trouble, don't you?

Thank God I caught him.

Yes, just in time.

What was he doing up there?

Pretending to be his dead father.

I wanted to be a father myself.

But I never got married.

Neither did I.

I always wanted a child.

If I could've had one by myself,

I would have.

But God, or nature, or whatever...

Well, you know, you need a man.

You know what men are like. Full of lust.

I can talk to you 'cause you're past all that.

- What?

- You're not well enough to walk.

It's a very nasty bump.

Anyway, the war was on.

I was a nurse.

One day, they brought in a tail gunner...

...who'd been wounded by antiaircraft

in a raid over Germany.

A splinter of steel had lodged in his brain

and all he could say was his name: Garp.

For medical reasons I couldn't understand,

he also had a constant erection.

He deteriorated steadily.

Until one day,

all he could say was part of his name: Arp.

It was then that I knew

that he wouldn't last much longer.

His erections continued, however,

quite unabated.

I see.

- I'll just be going.

- Not yet.

You'd better rest.

Anyway.

Where was I?

He kept having erections.

Thank you.

He was dying. I wanted a child.

It was a good way to have one

without the bother of a husband around...

...who had legal rights to my body.

So, one night at work...

...when the wounded and maimed

were all asleep, I went to him.

He was asleep.

But his erection was there, as always.

I removed my undergarments

and climbed on top of him.

He woke up then.

He said the only word other than his name

that I ever heard him utter.

He said, "good." It didn't take very long,

and that once was all that was needed.

You raped him! You raped a dying man!

- Are you all right?

- No!

Yes!

I have to get home now.

You've been very kind.

I've never heard anything...

Good night.

And then he died.

He did die.

Really?

Really.

Will you throw me in the air

like you used to?

You're too big for that now.

Now you don't have a father, either.

You know, everybody dies.

My parents died. Your father died.

Everybody dies.

I'm going to die, too. So will you.

The thing is, to have a life before we die.

It can be a real adventure...

...having a life.

Garp! Careful of the undertow!

The undertow!

Be careful of the undertow!

- How do you do?

- Hi.

Hello, again.

Hope I'm not disturbing you,

running up and down here.

Nope.

It's distracting, isn't it?

Not to me, it's not.

What do you weigh, about 112 or so?

Pleased to meet you. 158.

On my way to 147.

Sorry about that.

My name is T.S. Garp.

- What's T.S. stand for?

- Terribly Sexy.

I used to be Terribly Shy, but I changed.

- I'm Helen Holm.

- Holm sweet Holm.

Our new wrestling coach here

is named Holm. What a hard-ass!

- We call him "Holm sweat Holm."

- He's my father. I'm his daughter.

We're the Holm team.

Take care.

A**hole.

Let's get them, Garp.

Next!

Do it!

- You're out of bounds.

- Concentration.

You walked right into that fireman's, Garp.

Come on!

Let's go!

Off the face!

Get him, Garp!

Reverse him! Roll him!

Two! Two there!

Ernie, congratulations.

You beat us on the takedowns.

- And we're lousy on takedowns.

- Thanks, Tom. We've got some guys...

- Nice job, Ernie.

- Nice, yourself.

He beat you on your feet.

He got all the takedowns.

And most of the falls.

Mr. Holm?

Hi, Jenny.

Mr. Holm, were you aware

of what was going on out here?

Garp wasn't really concentrating

in the first period.

- But it was that double-armed...

- It was lust.

Beg your pardon?

Lust.

Mr. Holm, you have a daughter.

I have a son.

- He's a fine boy. Good wrestler.

- He's also full of lust.

I can spot it a mile away.

He's lusting after your daughter.

I wouldn't worry about that.

Helen can take care of herself.

- After all, it's only natural.

- Diseases are natural, too.

It doesn't mean

we have to give in to them.

Keep an eye on your daughter, coach.

Hello, Garp?

Cushie?

So, what brings you home?

I'm visiting.

I'm stuck at this all girls' school.

So, I thought I'd visit here,

see how the boys are doing.

So, how are you?

I have this terrible headache.

- I'll see you.

- Take care.

- Hi.

- Hi.

- Am I disturbing you?

- I think you like to disturb me.

You sure read a lot.

- I've always read a lot.

- Me, too. It'll ruin your eyes, though.

They're already ruined.

Ulysses

- You going to be a writer?

- No chance. I'm going to be a reader.

Maybe you'll marry a writer.

If I marry anybody, it'll be a writer.

But I doubt I'll marry anybody.

- You certainly won't marry a wrestler.

- You can be very sure of that.

Unless it's a wrestler who's also a writer.

- But a writer first and foremost?

- Yeah, a real writer.

- Like Joyce?

- Maybe.

He never made any money.

He worked as a clerk to support his family.

You've read him?

Did you know

he had a beautiful tenor voice?

No, I didn't.

He was 21 when he entered

the Feis Ceoil in Dublin.

- The what?

- The Feis Ceoil.

It's a Gaelic musical competition.

He was runner-up in the tenor category.

- Do you know who the winner was?

- No.

- John McCormack.

- Really?

- Do you always wear a sweat suit?

- Don't you like it?

Yes, I just wonder what you'd be like

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