Tromeo and Juliet Page #4

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retain the dear perfection

which he owns without the title.

Let's go tonight.

Come with me.

You could come in.

But your father.

He never comes back until after

the Regis & Kathie Lee show.

And this room was soundproofed

when I was eight.

He didn't want the neighbors

to hear me scream.

And so he puts me in here

when things go wrong.

I think it's sick.

You're 18, aren't you?

So why haven't you left?

This is the only life I know.

What seems cruel to others

is normal to me.

I guess my life

is sort of unnatural, too.

Violent, you know?

Maybe both of us are warped.

It's like if you have been

told a curved line is straight

your whole life,

you start to believe it.

Maybe we're more afraid

of the risk of something

new than at staying

with something

you hate that's familiar.

(Snorts)

Day...

Music...

The Regis & Kathy Lee theme.

Tromeo, wake up.

You must go.

You must go now.

No.

No, if my father finds you...

Wait. Where can we meet?

We'll meet tonight?

Oh, why?

You look like you've seen

a Sub-Humanoid.

His name is London Arbuckle.

Tromeo, I'm supposed

to be married.

From my heart it is

so far, but my father would

rather see me dead than lose

a billionaire son-in-law

grown rich on steak tartar.

When is it supposed to happen?

-Thursday.

-Thursday?

Then marry me before then.

What?

Yes, marry me,

you can't be forced

into a marriage

if you're already in one.

You don't need to save me,

Tromeo.

If I said I was doing it

to save you,

it would only be making excuses

for my real desire.

-Really?

-Yes.

Then yes.

You are wonderful!

Okay.

Oh, wait.

Before you go.

Juliet, prince meatball is here.

Oh, boy!

Yeah.

Hi, dear.

I brought you some flowers

and something else.

Yeah, yeah.

I bet you were gonna say

you wish

we had honeymoon tickets

to Swanzey, Wales, to see

one of the largest cattle

herds in the world.

'Cause look what I have here.

We're going to Swanzey!

No.

London,

I don't know how to say this.

Oh, look, aisle seats,

so we can go to the bathroom

anytime we want.

I think you are

a very nice person.

Look at all the cows.

Moo, moo, moo, moo.

But I can't marry you.

What?

I'm sorry but there's

somebody else.

Oh, God!

Of course, this would happen.

You think I'm ugly, don't you?

No, I don't!

London!

London, don't do that!

I'm so ugly and stupid!

I'm sorry, Mom and Dad,

I know you hate me!

-I won't take no for an answer.

-London!

FATHER:
And so Jesus said

if you have faith

there will be bread

and bread there is.

Bread, my children.

Yes, bread indeed.

Bread indeed.

Faith to you,

faith to you all.

Yes, faith to you.

Father!

Young Que!

My good man,

will you be so kind

as to hand

the rest of these out?

Of course, Father.

Tromeo, I thought--

Tromeo, I thought you never

woke before noon.

It's morning to you, Father,

but a late, late night to me.

Scantily clad table dancers

again, eh, my boy?

Tromeo,

I miss you in the confessional.

You were the most entertaining

if not quite the most

repentant of my parishioners.

Tell me, son, why do you have

that stupid look on your face?

A woman, Father.

A woman?

She is...unreal!

And you know her I think.

Juliet.

Juliet?

Capulet.

Juliet Capulet.

Capulet?

I know. I know I've had

problems with them before,

but no longer, Father.

I pledge.

I've got a new lease on life.

Or life has

a new lease on you.

Tromeo, as you realize

I've known your father

and Juliet's father for years.

Son, Cap just talked to me

about her marrying another man.

Father, her dad doesn't know

but she doesn't love Arbuckle.

Juliet and I,

we want to be married.

Father,

it can't be a coincidence

that I saw you here

this morning.

Father, tonight.

Tonight?

(Church bell rings)

He said he would call.

Looks like Tromeo...

Yes, oh, yes,

say my name again.

Okay, I'm f***ing finished one.

I'm f***ing finished one

real good.

Yes!

Sh*t.

That's right.

We're having major sex.

(Squeals) Tromeo.

Hmm, Tromeo.

Jiminy Christmas!

Yes, yes, I'm coming!

Yippie yahoo!

Sing it to the world!

Tromeo's coming,

yippie yahoo!

Oh, Tromeo.

You done?

(Phone ringing)

Hello.

TROMEO:
Juliet.

Tromeo.

Hi, I have been trying to call

but your phone's been busy.

Oh?

Have you changed your mind?

Oh, no, oh, no.

Juliet, please

let rich music's tongue

unfold the imagined happiness

that both receive in either

by this dear encounter.

Oh, my true love

has grown to such excess.

When should we do it?

Tonight.

Tonight?

-Yes.

-Yes.

(Farting)

What's that noise?

Now kiss the bride.

(Church bell ringing)

I just have to figure out

how to tell them without

getting one of us killed.

I don't want to go.

Bye.

Parting is such sweet sorrow.

Totally sucks.

LEMMY:
Act IV. Kill, Tromeo.

Kill and be resolved.

Arbuckle,

what the hell are you doing?

You're f***ing yourself up.

Vic, fat boy.

Get out!

Leave me alone!

Why?

Oh, God, it's Juliet!

Juliet!

What'd you do to my cousin?

Yes, hit me, hit me.

You see, no matter what it is,

it'll never match

the pain inside.

She loves somebody else.

Someone else?

Someone else?

Tromeo!

I got to stand here

and watch that king Friday guy

and that guy scares the sh*t

out of me, very frankly.

I don't know.

Sesame Street's good.

They got them

cute little two guys

living in the same room.

But Mr. Rogers, that's more

on the community level.

So I disagree, I think

they're both good programs.

I don't know

what you're talking about.

We'd like to have

a word with you.

MURRAY:
A word with me?

-Yes.

Or better yet,

how about a word for you?

Let's see, a word

for Tyrone Capulet.

Are you gonna take this,

Tyrone?

Boofball.

Dickbrain.

Peon.

Freak.

Cocksucker.

Low-so, ratcatcher, geek.

Dufus, anus, fruitcake, lunk,

fiddlefucker, dweeb, feeb.

C*nt.

Assfuck, that one's

close to the mark.

How about Guinea,

schmuck, or pussyfart?

You finish yet?

No, not quite.

Dildo, birdbrained,

bugger me biddy.

Bozo, fruitcake,

mother f***ing sissy.

Wanker, yellowbelly,

hoedaddy, weeny.

Penis, troll,

chucklehead, meany.

Fruit, galoot,

fake hermaphrodite.

But what I think fits

you most, is b*tch.

-Isn't about to be my--

-F***ing get him.

We just wanted to track

down Tromeo, okay?

Hey, like if we knew

we'd tell you anyway, huh?

If I had to guess

it wouldn't be so tough.

I'd say he was

in your cousin's mouth.

Hey, hey, hey, Ty.

Hello, Vic.

Hello, Tyrone.

GIRL:
Well, well, well.

Hello, nothing.

What prank are you pulling

on my cousin, jerk?

Just 'cause you got

a problem with me,

don't take it out on her.

It won't work.

I ain't got no problems

with you.

The Ques have spilled blood,

your side has too.

Let's call it even now, Tyrone,

let's stop.

Hey, hey. Tyr.

Aah!

Watering the weeds, huh?

I love it!

Afraid his precious cousin

has been pinned to the bed

by Tromeo's spike, Tyrone?

Another butterfly

in his cockboard collection.

-Get your f***ing hand--

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