Whipped

Everybody fucks everybody.

It's the nature of the beast.

Jesus Christ!

F***!

I can provide a woman with

pretty much anything she wants.

Sausage included.

How you doing, baby?

Fine.

Here's my card.

One of the most important keys

to being a scammer

is to try and get their number,

and go to their place, if possible.

Homeless guys got it f***ing made.

Forget about it.

Hi.

Sh*t.

Ive slept with nine women.

I know, nine women by the time

you're twenty-six,

it's almost like being a virgin.

But I like to think

Im just picky.

Thanks.

Where the f***'s my tip?

In your pants, d*ckhead.

You should've took a left.

A**hole.

Nice.

Real nice.

-F*** off, jerk.

-You'd like that, wouldn't you?

Give me your number,

Ill call you later.

The three of us can make

a Brad sandwich.

Don't touch me.

Brad!

Hey, what's going on?

All right, man. How you doing?

What's up, Zeke?

After you.

SyncFix by divx.NeKryXe.com

So you see...

I got this chick

back at my apartment.

She thinks Im

her best friend's brother.

Why the f*** does she think that?

'Cause I told her I was.

Only way she'd come home with me.

Do you even know her best friend?

I never know their best friends.

But if they believe I know

their best friends, then Im safe.

-That's genius.

-What do you mean, "safe"?

Safe, you know.

She wants something in common

before she lets you in.

It's like the college connection.

She's comfortable about

letting you nail her.

She thinks you have a bond because

you went to the same school.

All of a sudden,

you're safe.

F*** this safe bullshit.

Did you bone?

Ah, well.

Listen, okay?

I was at this club

with some guys from work.

Check out those sweet honeys!

That ho' is fly!

Look at those f***ing losers.

They are totally checking us out.

Pigs. So desperate.

Bet they're lawyer

or Wall Street a**holes.

They want lawyer rap.

Chicks don't dig lawyer rap,

they want Wall Street.

Yeah, pigs.

I don't know...

I think that blond one's

kind of a hottie.

Yeah, right.

What are you talking about?

Im not even sure

if they can handle me.

Go get them, tiger.

You can have him.

Those chicks are all over me, man.

Im going in.

Brad! Brad! Brad!

Hi.

Have we met before?

Excuse me?

-Im sure Ive met you before.

-I don't think so.

Through a friend or something.

She's not interested, okay?

Just go.

What's your name?

Maybe it'll come back to me.

Im really not interested, so...

Im sorry, you just look like

one of my sister's friends

and I wanted to come over

and say hi. Sorry.

Wait a minute. Who's your sister?

Jen.

You're Jen's brother?

I knew I recognized you

from those pictures.

I haven't seen Jenny

since college.

How did you know to say Jen?

Every chick's got a friend

named Jen. Its common.

Its like Peter.

She didn't ask you your last name?

She wanted me so bad,

all she needed was the link.

So then what?

I fed her some more bullshit

about Jenny

and after twenty minutes

she was begging to join me

in the stabbin' cabin.

Oh...

a very stylin' place you have.

-Not half as stylin' as you.

-Really?

Yes.

She's all over me.

She's so fired up

and raring to go.

She's like a f***ing

gorilla on Ecstasy.

Im in Brad heaven,

just about to get smoked...

when all of a sudden,

she started cleaning my tailpipe.

Man, that's awesome.

Its not awesome,

it's f***ing disgusting.

She tossed your salad.

That's right out of a porno film.

Do you realize how much

people pay for that?

That's got to be the best

blowj*b story yet.

No, moron, you're missing the point.

She passed over my dick

and went straight for the ass.

Why complain? Some people wait

their whole lives for a rimmer.

Yeah, well...

you guys know how bad

my stomach is, right?

Im constantly taking

sloppy dumps and sh*t.

That's her problem, not yours.

It became my problem.

Dude, that's disgusting.

Yeah, no sh*t.

You're grossing me out.

You tasted your own a**hole?

Not by choice, all right?

Change of subject. Zeke, you're up.

That's sick. I don't know

if I can top that.

Try, 'cause sh*t lips

is bugging me out.

F*** you.

All right, chill.

I was at Bell Caf, writing,

when all of a sudden,...

I see these two fine honeys

all over my wood.

All over it.

Im trying to work and I realize

they're totally focused in on me.

Now way Im getting anything done.

So Im thinking,

"opportunity's knocking".

I don't get it. lf I walked into

some beatnik coffee shop

and saw an unemployed dirty freak

like you writing in a diary,

Id stay as far away as possible

from that loser.

But that's you, Brad.

An ass-kissing, no pun intended,

suit from the upper East Side.

Women look at you and know

what they're getting.

I, on the other hand,

am an East Village enigma.

I secrete mystery.

Women dig mystery.

-That combined with the pheromones.

-The what?

The pheromones.

The electricity I give off to

send the chicks climbing the walls.

They see me,

they smell me,

they f*** me.

Yeah.

Okay, guy.

-So, which one did you choose?

-F*** that, I took them both.

-You got both chicks to your crib?

-Damn straight.

These girls were f***ing pros.

They did sh*t I didn't

even know existed.

Like what?

You ever hear of an inverted,

double teabag slide?

No way.

The sex was amazing.

It was like a gift from God.

Are you writing this sh*t down?

This should be your next screenplay.

How many times did you bone?

A box worth.

Three times?

You know I only buy twelve-packs.

-These chicks sound perfect.

-Not exactly perfect.

The next morning,

they stole my TV.

-They what?

-They f***ing stole my set.

Do you think that was

their intention from the start?

-Definitely.

-Im sure of it.

I bet they double team

so they can carry out more sh*t.

Its an ingenious operation,

if you think about it.

Don't you feel like they f***ed you,

they got the better of you?

They f***ed me all right,

in a way Ill never forget.

It was worth a TV. They come back,

Ill throw them the toaster.

This is some f***ed up sh*t.

Both you guys are crazy.

That never happens to me.

That's 'cause nothing

ever happens to you.

Yeah, what, did you score?

Or did you spend another

weekend tugging root?

F*** you, man. I had multiple

ladies on my tip.

Multiple, my ass.

Better your ass than Brad's.

Funny.

I was at Strokes

with my five knucklehead friends.

There were seven fine honeys

at my disposal.

Place was so ripe, I had my pick.

Always talking a big game.

No, seriously, they were all

sitting there waiting.

All I had to do was

go in for the kill.

So?

So I did.

Her name...

was Keri.

The flyest girl at the bar.

Dude, you got to stop

whacking it so much.

What?

Making up chick's names

while you're feeding the geese.

F*** you.

She's as real as the

scrambled eggs on that plate.

Last week her name was Nivea,

the week before it was Neutrogena.

Nivea was a nice French girl

I met in the park.

F*** that. If you didn't score,

just say it.

You don't believe me,

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes