Uptown Girls Page #2

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Oh, my God.

Looks like you found it | on your own.

I can't believe it!

This is it.

This is the acoustic Muddy Waters | gave Tommy Gunn.

He played it at Budokan. | - Summer of '88.

Daddy's little girl

That's you.

Paints the world | with her magic wand

Please don't sing that song.

"Molly Smiles. | He opened the show with it.

For me

And then he | and my mom died.

Listen, I didn't mean to...

Okay. Yeah.

So what's next?

How about dessert?

Am I gonna be able | to pronounce it?

I don't know.

Can you say...Pez"?

I'm just not supposed | to act impulsively, you know?

Part of my whole sobriety thing.

Made a vow, | haven't broken it yet.

Pez.

I haven't had a drink | in 224 days.

I'm also not supposed to have | romantic relationships my first year.

Pez.

It's called | the Law of Contrary Behavior.

If I want a drink, | I don't have one.

If I want to skip a gig, | I force myself to go.

If I meet a girl | and I want her to come over...

...I send her home.

Pez.

Those are vows | I haven't broken.

Ships crossing like ghosts | in the night

Night names, | unremembered faces in sight

Took what we can | in need to survive

Oh, my God, I love it!

It's the most | lyrically advanced thing I've done.

No, purple means | rock 'n' roll royalty,

and it picks up | the highlights in your eyes.

You're too hot for those | earth tones you've been wearing.

What about the song? | Is it too fast, too slow, what?

It's kind of like the same thing | over and over again.

Is there, like, a hook | or a good chorus or something?

A hook? | - Yeah.

I don't do hooks. | - Okay.

I'm not a sell-out. I don't | wear purple and I don't do hooks.

I said okay, okay?

Names... names unremembered, | faces in sight

Molly, I thought you were dead.

Neal's in the other room. | - That guy is still there?

You always do this. | When are you gonna grow up?

He's never going to leave.

All he does is mope | and play these loser songs.

Help me, please.

I don't know how to get rid of this guy | without breaking his heart.

Hold. | Just a minute!

Oh, my God, | I'm being totally suffocated.

Yeah?

Can you take those off?

Ing, I'll call you.

Baby...I'm not a love machine.

No, my boxers... | can I have them back, please?

Thanks.

What's going on?

Listen, I've got to go. | - Go?

Go where, go?

Home, Molly.

The place where I live, | where I have a life,

where I do my laundry, | get sleep, try to make music.

Why can't you | make music here?

This is a world gone mad,

like I've stepped | through the looking-glass.

There's a week's worth of leftovers, | a month of laundry.

Look at this place. | - We'll call maid service.

"You" call maid service. | I've got to rejoin the human race.

No!

I don't understand.

Listen, I just feel | like I'm suffocating.

I need some air. | - We can open the windows.

It's not about the windows. | I need my shirt back.

Damn! I forgot | to get new strings.

I have, like, | five gigs this week

and I have not done | a single thing.

I have got to get to work. | I'll call you later, I swear.

Oh, my God.

This place is beyond | its normal grotesque.

It's post-nuclear.

Ninety-eight messages?

Molly, your machine | has 98 messages on it.

Write them down for me, | will you?

He's gone. | I have no life.

What?

"Of course you have a life.

"I don't need to tell you that.

That's what you're | supposed to say to me.

Sorry.

As your best friend, | it's my duty not to lie to you.

Besides, | you wanted him gone, remember?

I did?

What are all these | final notices?

I'm gonna call him.

I think now is | a good time to call him.

Would you hand me the phone? | I'm gonna call him right now.

Focus for one second.

Your electric has been canceled | and so has your gas.

Who pays your bills?

Bob.

Bob who?

I don't know. | My parents' guy Bob.

Your phone's dead.

These rooms...

...sound so empty | without the sound of his music.

Bob's number | has been disconnected.

Oh, God.

I'm sure it's little consolation, | but you're not the only one

who got taken, Miss Gunn.

Bob Kopalski had ten clients,

assets equaling over $100 million, | when he disappeared.

You're telling us | that none of it's insured?

What a disaster. | Thank God for the residuals.

Actually, Kopalski took such heavy | advances on the royalty income

that by the time | the account recoups,

Miss Gunn will be | on Social Security.

Where does someone disappear | with $100 million?

The best we can guess | is South America.

Can't you just sue?

My God, | how could he do this to her?

He'll be back. | They always come back.

If he does, he'll be looking | out the back of an FBI van

on his way | to a long prison term.

It'll be years | before you see a dime, if ever.

Mr. Feldman, as a lawyer,

may I please ask your advice

as per what to do in the meantime | as far as, you know, money?

Get a job?

"Dear prospective employer,

"although I've had | no previous employment, ever,

"the following is a partial | but significant list

of personal recommendations, | including contact information.

The Dalai Lama, Tibet?

900-thread count | Egyptian cotton.

No man can resist | Egyptian cotton.

Tibet is a country, Molly, | not contact information.

Why not add "earth"

in case someone | needs to know where Tibet is?

This is not a rsum.

It shows I'm a people person.

Focus on the interview.

Hello. | Pleasure to meet you.

I will work overtime, weekends, | holidays, Yom Kippur, Christmas.

You name it, I will be here. | - I'm sure that won't be necessary.

Ingrid says you guys met | at Darlington?

I was valedictorian there | two years in a row.

That's so neat.

Tell me, what is the price | on a set of these?

$1,369 plus tax.

You're in denial. | You're broke, remember?

Trish, hon, tell me, do employees | get a discount around here?

Ten percent, and some employees | are among our best customers.

I'll take them. | Ing, this is the greatest job ever.

Who is it? | - It's Molly!

I was just out shopping | in the neighbonood.

At midnight? | - It's the city that never sleeps.

You can't do this. | I have to be at the studio at 9:00.

I can't act like a kid anymore. | - Really?

Neal, I haven't seen sheets | like this since the third grade.

Rocket ships?

You wouldn't have my jacket in there? | It's like my lucky jacket.

I never get onstage without it. | I left it behind the other day.

No.

I guess you're gonna have to | come over and look for it.

I can't disappear | from the world again.

I can't lose myself in this obsessive- | compulsive irrational behavior.

Feel.

Excuse me? | - Feel.

Egyptian cotton...

...900-thread count.

All right, I'll tell you what.

Maybe we can, like, | date, okay?

Okay.

But it's gonna have to be | a mature adult relationship with...

alarm clocks in the morning... | - I love alarm clocks.

...and work during the day.

We eat with silverware, | knives and forks...

...drink out of glasses...

...do the dishes.

Is it bedtime yet?

Molly, wake up.

I'm sorry.

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