Trash Fire Page #3

and invite someone to jizz in you.

That is the most vile thing I've ever

heard come out of your mouth.

Best case scenario, you have a healthy baby

that turns into a piece of sh*t teenager...

...and makes only a portion of your life

a living hell. That is the best-case scenario.

- I hate your f***ing guts.

- Yeah, what else is new?

I'm pregnant.

- What?

- I'm pregnant.

- Don't worry, I'm having an abortion.

- Yeah, of course, you are.

I mean, what is it, like, 400 bucks?

We'll split it.

F***ing a**hole.

Hi.

- What the f*** is this doing here?

- It's a funeral spray.

Yeah, I can see that. What is it doing here?

It's part of a whole thing I'm doing.

Will you sit down?

No.

Come on, just give me

a few minutes, and then I'll leave.

You got two.

So, I couldn't sleep last night,

so I wrote your obituary.

No, it's a nice thing.

Get it over with.

Isabel Sullivan, 93,

of Los Angeles, California...

...died peacefully

of natural causes yesterday.

Though they cannot say

to an absolute degree of certainty...

...friends and family speculate

that if Heaven does in fact exist...

...that's probably where she went.

She was born in Carson City, Nevada,

and graduated with a business degree...

...from some forgettable second-tier college

even she had trouble remembering the name of.

She was married to Owen Roberts,

noted web designer...

...who loved her very much,

even though he had trouble showing it.

They adopted later in life...

...and she was often heard remarking

on what a great father he was...

...despite the fact that he

could be a miserable bastard.

He loved everything about her,

even the disgusting fact...

...that she would leave her dried contact

lenses scattered around the apartment.

To him, she was perfect and he could

not imagine himself with anyone else.

I'm sorry about last night.

Okay.

This is pretty tacky...

...and inappropriate.

But I get that you are doing

a nice thing in your own weird way.

Let's just talk about it

when I get home tonight.

Okay.

- Owen!

- Yeah.

Get this thing out of here.

Okay.

Thank you.

So...

- ...how long have you known?

- Two weeks.

How could you keep this from me for so long?

Because I wasn't even sure

if I was even going to keep it.

And I knew you'd react

basically how you did...

...so, I mean, what would be the point?

Again, I'm sorry. I was caught off-guard.

Let's be honest, you're not responsible

enough to even be in a relationship...

- ...let alone be a dad.

- Okay, don't put this on me.

We both know it's just not the right timing.

If I was in a stable relationship,

I would keep this kid.

I'm not getting any younger. I want a family.

I just don't want one with you.

That is shitty thing to say to me.

Owen, you don't even keep

in touch with your own family...

...you've alienated me from mine.

I'm sure there's love for me somewhere

in there, but it's not like it used to be.

Okay, first of all, that's not true.

And I'm not saying that it's what I want...

...but I think I'd make a great father.

Are you insane?

Some of the biggest pieces of sh*t I've ever

met are parents. I think I could do it.

Well, I'm not going to have a kid with you,

just so you can prove a point.

(SCREAMING)

Isabel, I want to have this baby.

Okay, wake up. Wake up, okay?

I want to tell you something.

Listen, I know things haven't been

as good as they once were.

But we'll get back there.

I'll make sure of it.

This could be your only chance

to have a baby.

It could change our lives.

I mean, as f***ed up as we are...

...I can't imagine doing this

with anyone else.

You really want to keep this baby?

Yes, I want us to keep this baby together.

First, I want you to call Caleb

and apologize to him.

Of course, yes.

Be the first step in getting

my family to like you.

Okay.

Second, I want us to go and visit

your grandmother and sister...

...and reconcile with them.

Oh, Isabel...

No. I... that's...

If we're gonna have a family of our own,

I'd like to see you reconnect...

- ...with the one you've got.

- You don't know what you're asking.

So?

It's important to me.

(MUSIC PLAYING)

Not being able to drive is humiliating.

Yeah, well, if this new

medication works out...

...you'll be able to get your license

renewed in a few months.

I can't believe I agreed to do this.

I mean, we're just getting on the road,

and my hands are already starting to sweat.

Aw... you must really love me.

You know I haven't seen or spoken to my

grandmother or my sister since the funeral?

You did tell them

we were coming though, right?

- Yeah, of course.

- What'd they say?

Well, I only got my grandmother

on the phone...

...and she said she'd be willing

to tolerate the inconvenience.

Ah... she sounds a lot like you.

Well, by comparison, I'm relatively pleasant.

Is that why you guys don't talk anymore?

It's a long story.

Come on, man, we've got a long drive

ahead of us. You know all my secrets.

Okay. Fine.

OWEN:
The only thing my parents

had in common was religion.

All right, let's give this one last try.

- They never got along.

- Smile this time, Owen. A real smile.

Lower your chin, you don't look macho,

you look like a thug.

PHOTOGRAPHER:
Smiles!

OWEN:

I was practically hate-f***ed into existence.

After they had my sister,

things went even further downhill.

They thought it would strengthen their

marriage, but it only made things worse...

...duh. As far as I was concerned...

...my father's primary method of

communication was quoting scripture.

My mom was different. Her main vice was sex.

She loved to f***.

That's probably where I get it from.

Though, in fairness,

she was a lot better lay than me.

More often than not,

people would come back for seconds...

...and thirds, and fourths.

Around that time, I started

to refuse to go to church.

That's when they sent me away

to a school for troubled youth...

...which I was subsequently expelled from.

One night, while I was on one of

my benders, the house caught fire.

I had installed the propane,

something went wrong, I f***ed up.

My parents were burned alive,

and my sister escaped...

...with third-degree burns

on over 80% of her body.

She was unrecognizable.

After my parents died, we ended up

moving in with my grandmother.

(SCREAMING)

We planned our escape,

but with her medical condition...

...I knew we didn't stand a chance.

Not together.

So I left her...

alone on the side of the road.

I planned on going back for her,

but I never found the courage.

Of course, that is, until now...

...on account of the fact that you

threatened to abort my unborn child.

Baby, the fact that you've kept

this from me...

...for the three years we've been

together, it terrifies me.

Yeah, well, you know... it's not something

you just bring up casually at dinner.

(SOFT MUSIC PLAYING)

(BEEPS OFF)

- I thought you liked that song.

- I'm starting to get nervous.

You're nervous, I'm petrified.

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