|
Good Will Hunting (1997)
Mod f-x-square, d-x.
So please finish Percival|for next time. I know many of you|had this as undergraduates,|but it won't hurt to brush up. Thank you, Steven. I also put an advanced Fourier system|on the main hallway chalkboard. I'm hoping that one of you might|prove it by the end of the semester. Now the person to do so will|not only be in my good graces... but also go on|to fame and fortune... by having their accomplishment|recorded and their name printed... in the auspicious M.I.T. Tech. Former winners include Nobel laureates,|Field's medal winners... renowned astrophysicists|and lowly M.I.T. professors. Well, that's all.|If you have any questions... I'm sure that Tom|has the answers. Hi, Will. - Kirsten, how you doing?|- I'm all right. How are you? - Good.|- I didn't get on Cathy last night. - No?|- No. - Why not?|- I don't know. - Cathy!|- What? Why didn't you give me none of that|nasty little hoochie-woochie... - you usually throw at me?|- Oh, fuck you... and your Irish curse,|Chuckie. Like I'd waste my energy spreadin'|my legs for that Tootsie Roll dick? - Go home and give it a tug yourself.|- Tootsie Roll! T-Toots! She's missin' a tooth,|Will. She's got skin problems.|I don't-- Plus, it's like 5-to-2 Morgan ends up|marryin' her, you know what I mean? There's only so many times you can|bang your friend's future wife. It's wrong.|Where you goin'? - I'm gonna take off.|- Fuck you, you're takin' off.|It's, like, what, 10:00? No, I'm tired. Irish curse? She don't know.|There ain't no Irish curse. Out! Stop|pressuring me back. Stop crowding the plate!|Which one will it be? You're gonna get charged,|you know that? You think I'm afraid of you,|you big fuck? You're crowdin'|the fuckin' plate. Hey, uh, Casey's bouncin' up|a bar at Harvard next week.|We should go up there. - What are we gonna do up there?|- I don't know. We'll fuck up some smart kids.|Probably fit right in. Ow! Fuckin' punk. - Oh, what's up? You still tough?|- Come on! Come on. Come on.|That's it. # I'd hold you forever|here # # In my arms # - Professor Lambeau?|- Yes? I'm in your applied theories|class. We're all up at|the math and science building. Come here. It's Saturday. - Unless you wanna have|a drink with me tonight.|- Maybe. We just couldn't wait|until Monday to find out. - Find out what?|- Who proved the theorem. This is correct.|Who did this? - Jack?|- It wasn't me. - Nemesh?|- N-No way. - Come on, Joey, now!|- Billy, McNamara's up. Come on, kid! - Joey, dig it out! Dig it out!|- Son of a bitch! Bring it down, Mac! That's how to|do it! Attaboy! Take two, Mac. Hey, Morgan, who's the girl with the|striped pants? She's got a nice ass. - Yeah, that's a real nice ass.|- Who's the guy she's with? That fuckin' guinea. I hate that|little bitch. Will knows him. Yeah, I do.|Yeah, fuckin' Carmine Scarpaglia. - That guy used to beat the shit|out of me in kindergarten.|- That guy? Yeah.|Mm-hmm. Fuck this.|Let's get some food. - Oh, what, Morgan, you're not|gonna go talk to her?|- Fuck her. - I could go for a Whopper.|- Let's go to Kelly's. Morgan, I'm not goin' to Kelly's just|'cause you like the take-out girl. - It's 15 minutes out of our way.|- What the fuck are we gonna do?|We can't spare 15 minutes? Double burger. Double burger. Double burger. Chuck, I had|a double burger. Would you shut the fuck up!|I know what you ordered. I was there. - So give me my fuckin' sandwich.|- What do you mean,|your sandwich? I bought it. Morgan, how much money|you got on you? I said I'd get change|when I get the snow cone. I said that when we pulled up. Give me|my sandwich and stop bein' a prick. All right, well, give me your fuckin'|16 cents that you got on you now. We'll put your fuckin' sandwich|on layaway. Here we go.|Keep it right up here for ya. We'll put you on a program. Every day|you come in here with your six cents. - At the end of the week,|you get your sandwich.|- Are you gonna be an asshole? What am I, fuckin' sandwich|welfare? I think you should|establish a good line of credit. Like how you bought|your couch-- payment plans. Remember how your mother brought in|ten dollars every day for a year. She finally got her couch|Rent-A-Center style. - Can I have my food, please?|- Here's your fuckin' double burger. - Whoa!|- Hey, hold up, Chuck. - Slow it down.|- Who do we got? - I don't know yet.|- Hey, douche bag! Yeah, you, you skank face! - Shut the fuck up.|- Get outta here.|- What are you worried about? Why don't you lick|my love stick? We seen the guy 15 minutes ago.|We should've fight him then.|We're eatin' our snacks now. - Shut up, Morgan, you're goin'.|- I'm not goin'.|- So don't go. - I'm not goin'.|- Fuckin' go, Morgan. Let me tell you somethin'. If you're not|out there in two fuckin' seconds, when I'm done with them,|you're next. Carmine, it's me, Will. Remember,|we went to kindergarten together. # Way down the street|there's a light in his place # # He opens the door, he's|got that look on his face ## - Fuckin', let's go, man.|- Step on his fuckin' head. Get his ass on the ground.|Stop that motherfucker. Motherfucker, die! - Carter!|- Come on! Will! Will, come on! Will, come on.|Let's go. Let's go. Easy, brother, easy. - Hey, fellas,|thanks for comin' out.|- Come here! Whoa! Whoa! Ah. Fuck. Is it just my imagination,|or has my class grown considerably? Well, by no stretch|of my imagination... do I believe you've all come here|to hear me lecture. Rather, to ascertain the identity|of the mystery math magician. So without further adieu, come forward,|silent rogue, and receive thy prize. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint|my spectators, but... it seems there will be|no unmasking here today. However, uh, my colleagues and l|have conferred, and there is a problem|on the board right now... that took us|more than two years to prove. So let this be said:|The gauntlet has been thrown down, but the faculty have answered|and answered with vigor. Hey, when's the arraignment? Next week. Sorry. - What are you doing?|- Sorry. That's people's work.|You can't graffiti here. - Don't you walk away from me!|- Hey, fuck you! Oh, you're a clever one.|What's your name? Oh, my God. Looks right. Will, how retarded do you gotta be|to get fired from that job? I mean, how hard is it|to push a motherfuckin' broom around? Mitch, you got fired|from pushin' a fuckin' broom. I got fired 'cause|management was restructuring. Yeah, restructuring the amount|of retards they had workin' for 'em. Shut up. You get canned|more than tuna, bitch. At least I got a motherfuckin' job|right now, don't I? - Why'd you get fired, Will? Come on.|- Management was restructuring. - My uncle could probably|get you on a demo team.|- Can he do that? You kiddin' me! I asked you|yesterday if I could get a job. And I told you "no"|yesterday. - What's up, Casey?|- What's up, Case?|- What's up, Big Case? Let's sit over here. All right. Let's go. Oh, this is-- this is|a Harvard bar, huh? I thought there'd be, like,|equations and shit on the wall. I will take a pitcher|of the finest lager in the house. Timeout. I'm gonna have to bust|a little move on them Harvard|hotties down there at the bar. - Work some magic.|- Get some potion for us. - Oh, hello.|- Oh, hello. - Hi. How are ya?|- Fine. - So, do you ladies, uh--|- Come here often? Do I come here?|I come here a bit. I'm here, you know,|from time to time. - Do you go to school here?|- Yep. - Yeah, that's it.|I think I had a class with you.|- Oh, yeah. What class? - History.|- Maybe. Yes, I think|that's what it was. You don't necessarily-- may not|remember me. You know, I like it here. - It doesn't mean 'cause I go here,|I'm a genius. I am very smart.|- Hey. - Hey, how's it goin'? How are ya?|- Good. How ya doin'? What class|did you say that was? - History.|- Yeah. Just history? It must have been|a survey course then. - Yeah, it was. It was surveys.|- Right. You should check it out. It's a good|course. It'd be a good class. - How'd you like that course?|- You know, frankly, - I found that class, you know,|rather elementary.|- Elementary. - You know, I don't doubt that it was.|- Yeah. I, uh,|I remember that class. It was, um--|It was just between recess and lunch. Clark, why don't you|go away? - Why don't you relax?|- Why don't you go away? -I'm just havin' fun with my new friend.|-Are we gonna have a problem? No, no, no, no.|There's no problem here. I was just hoping you might give me|some insight into the evolution... of the market economy|in the southern colonies. My contention is that|prior to the Revolutionary War,|the economic modalities-- especially|in the southern colonies-- could most aptly|be characterized as... - agrarian precapitalist.|- Let me tell you somethin'. Of course that's your contention.|You're a first-year grad student. You just got finished readin'|some Marxian historian--|Pete Garrison, probably-- You're gonna be convinced of that till|next month when you get to James Lemon. Then you're gonna be talkin'|about how the economies|of Virginia and Pennsylvania... were entrepreneurial|and capitalist way back in 1740. That's gonna last until|next year. You're gonna be in|here regurgitatin' Gordon Wood, talkin' about, you know,|the prerevolutionary utopia... and the capital-forming effects|of military mobilization. Well,|as a matter of fact, I won't, because Wood drastically|underestimates the impact of-- Wood drastically underestimates|the impact of social distinctions... predicated upon wealth,|especially inherited wealth. You got that from Vickers'|Work in Essex County. Page 98, right? I read that too. Were you gonna|plagiarize the whole thing for us? Do you have any thoughts|of your own on this matter? Or is that your thing? You come into|a bar. You read some obscure passage. Then pretend--|pawn it off as your own. As your own idea just to impress|some girls? Embarrass my friend? See, the sad thing about a guy like|you is, in 50 years, you're gonna start doin'|some thinkin' on your own. You're gonna come up with the fact that|there are two certainties in life. One: Don't do that. And two: You dropped 150 grand|on a fuckin' education... you could've got for $1.50|in late charges at the public library. Yeah, but|I will have a degree, and you'll be servin' my kids|fries at a drive through|on our way to a skiing trip. Maybe, but at least|I won't be unoriginal. If you have a problem with that,|we could step outside.|We could figure it out. No, man, there's no problem.|It's cool. - It's cool?|- Yeah. - Cool.|- Damn right, it's cool. How do you like me now? My boy's wicked smart. I just spent three minutes|in this fuckin' place|and run into a barney, huh? There it is. - Nice to meet you.|- They were fine, man. I was gonna close the deal, but then|Chuck-- Billy insulted one of 'em-- The heavyset girl said I had|a receding hairline, and I was|a few pounds overweight. And I was, like,|"Go fuck yourself." I swallowed a bug. Hi. - You're an idiot.|- What? You're an idiot. I've been sitting|over there for 45 minutes... waiting for you|to come and talk to me. But I'm tired now,|and I have to go home. I couldn't sit there anymore|waiting for you. - I'm Will.|- Skylar. - Skylar.|- Oh, and by the way, that guy over there--|Michael Bolton clone-- He wasn't sitting with us,|so to speak. - I know. I kinda got that impression.|- Good. Okay. Well, I've got to go. Gotta get up early and waste some more|money on my overpriced education. - No, I didn't mean you.|- That's all right. There's my number. Maybe we can|go out for coffee sometime. All right, yeah. Maybe we can just get|together and eat a bunch of caramels. - What do you mean?|- When you think about it, - it's as arbitrary as drinkin' coffee.|- Oh. Yeah. Okay. Uh, right, then. Oh, come on. You're kidding. Yo! - Fuck you, bitch!|- Fuck you. - There goes them fuckin' barneys|right now with his skiin' trip.|- Hold on. We should've beat|that old bitch's ass. Do you like apples? - Yeah.|- Yeah? Well, I got her number!|How do you like them apples? # We arrived tonight # # The miles were over me # # I turned off the light # # So, come on, night # # Everyone who's gone # # Home to oblivion # # So come home # # So come on by ## Come. Excuse me? Is this|the Buildings and Grounds office? Yeah. What can I do|for you? I just need the name|of a student who works here. - No students work for me.|- Could you please check? I have this guy|who works in my building. - He's about this high.|- Which one is your building? - Two.|- Two. Building two. - Look, if anything was stolen,|I should know about it.|- No, it's nothing like that. I just need his name. - I can't give you his name|unless you have a complaint.|- This is Professor Lambeau. And this is|Professor Hayes. Tom, please. This is important.|Please. Will didn't show|for work today. Got this job through|his P.O. You can call him. - P.O.?|- Yeah. Parole officer. Thank you. Asshole. There is a lengthy|legal precedent, Your Honor,|going back to 1789, whereby a defendant|can claim self-defense against|an agent of the government... if that act is deemed a defense against|tyranny, a defense of liberty. Your Honor, Henry Ward Beecher, - in Proverbs from the Plymouth|Pulpit, 1887, said, quote--|- 1887? - Excuse me.|- This is the 20th century. - He's gonna make a mockery.|- I am afforded the right to|speak in my own defense, sir, by the Constitution|of the United States. - Don't tell me about the Constitution.|- This guarantees my liberty. "Liberty," in case you've forgotten,|is a soul's right to breathe. When it cannot take a long breath,|laws are girded too tight. - Without liberty, man is a syncope.|- Man is a what? - Ibid., Your Honor.|- Son, my turn. I've been sitting here|for ten minutes now lookin' over|this rap sheet of yours. I just can't believe it.|June '93, assault. September '93, assault. Grand theft auto,|February of '94. Where, apparently, you defended yourself|and had the case thrown out by citing... "free property rights|of horse and carriage" from 1798. Joke. January '95,|impersonating an officer. Mayhem, theft, resisting.|All overturned. I'm also aware that you've been|through several foster homes. The state removed you from three|because of serious physical abuse. You know, another judge might care,|but you hit a cop. You're going in. Motion to dismiss is denied.|$50,000 bail. Thank you. Rise. - Hello?|- Uh, Skylar? - Yep.|- Hey, uh, it's Will. - Who?|- It's Will. You know, the really funny,|good-looking guy you met|at the bar the other night. I don't recall meeting anyone|who matches that description.|I think I'd remember. Oh, all right, you got me. It's the|ugly, obnoxious, toothless loser... who got hammered and wouldn't|leave you alone all night. Oh, Will! I remember. How are you?|I was wondering if you'd call me. - Yeah, look, I was wondering--|- Yo, what's up, baby? - Hold on one second.|- What you doing? Want some of my ass? - Herve, I remember you|from juvi. How you doing?|- What you doing? Oh, yeah,|sorry about that. I was wonderin' maybe we could|get together sometime this week. - Sit out at a cafe.|Maybe have some caramels.|- Oh, that sounds wonderful. - Yeah?|- Yeah, sure. Where are you? Uh, well, actually,|this is just a shot in the dark, but, uh, there's no chance|that you're pre-law, is there? - Have a seat.|- Thank you. Nice talking to ya. What the fuck|do you want? I'm Gerald Lambeau. Professor you told|to fuck himself. Well, what the fuck|do you want? I've spoken to the judge,|and he's agreed to release you|under my supervision. - Really?|- Yeah. - Under two conditions.|- What are those? First condition is that|you meet with me every week. - What for?|- Go over the proof you're working on, get into|some more advanced... combinatorial mathematics, finite math. Sounds like a real hoot. And the second condition|is that-- that you see a therapist. I'm responsible to submit reports|on those meetings. If you fail to meet with any of those|conditions, you will have to serve time. All right. I'll do the math,|but I'm not gonna meet|with any fuckin' therapist. It's better than spending|that time in jail, isn't it? I read your book, and "Mike"|was havin' the same problems... that "Chad," the stockbroker,|was havin'. Absolutely right. Right on the button.|Good for you, Will. - Very nice.|- Thank you. Will, the pressures--|and I'm not judging them. I'm not labeling them, but they are destroying|your potential. No more shenanigans.|No more tomfoolery. No more ballyhoo. You're right.|God, I know. You're not gonna get off that easily.|Come on, Will. A bit more. - Well, I mean,|I do do things, you know?|- What-- What kind of things? I do things that, you know,|I mean, I hide from people. - You hide, do you?|- No, no. I mean, I like--|I go places. I interact. - Really? What sort of places?|- Just certain clubs. More. That's nice. Yes.|What sort of clubs? Like, uh, like Fantasy. Fantasy. That's nice.|A bit more. It's something like when you get|in there, the music, like, owns you. It's like that house music. It's like--|# Bom, bom, bom # # Bom-bom-bom|Boom, boom, boom, boom ## - You know, you start dancin'.|- Boom, boom, boom. Yeah. It's just-- Yes. Do you find it hard to hide|the fact that you're gay? What are you talking about? What? Look, buddy, two seconds ago,|you were ready to give me a jump. A jump? Are you-- I'm terribly sorry|to disappoint you. Hey, I don't have a problem with it.|I don't care if you putt from the rough. What are you-- P-- Putting|from the rough? What on earth|are you talking about? A difficult theorem|could be like a symphony. It's very erotic. You go somewhere else.|I can't handle this. - Wow.|- Thank you, Henry. - Ah, Henry.|- Hi, Gerry. You know something?|I can't do this pro bono work anymore. - It's just not-- It's not worth it.|- What happened? Well, I'm going on national|television next week. I mean, I haven't got time|to tell you, much less talk to|that raving looney in there. An absolute lunatic,|he is. Henry. Okay,|you are in your bed, Will. Now, how old are you? Seven. What do you see? Something's in my room. What is it? It's like a-- It's a figure.|It's hoverin' over me. You are in a safe place,|Will. It's t-- |It's touchin' me. Where is it touching you? It's touching me|down there, and I'm nervous. You don't have to be|nervous, Will. We start dancin' and dancin'. It's just beautiful, 'cause we can make... a lot of love|before the sun goes down. # Skyrockets|in flight # # Afternoon delight # - # Hey, hey, hey, afternoon delight #|- Jesus. # Skyrockets in flight|Da-da-da-da # - I'm sorry, Rich.|- I have better things to do|with my time. # Hey, hey, afternoon delight ##|Come on! One dance! You really hypnotized me,|you know? - For God's sake, Will.|- What? Oh, come on. He left.|You can't pin that on me. - I told you to cooperate|with these people.|- Look... - into my eyes.|- Get out, Will. I don't need therapy. That's enough. Get out! - I called Mel Weintraub|this morning to see--|- Oh, what's the use? What do you want to do? - Well, there's someone.|- Who is he? He used to be my, uh--|my roommate in college. Trust. Very important|in a relationship. It's also very important|in a clinical situation. Why is trust|the most important thing... in making a breakthrough|with a client? Maureen, stop the oral fixation|for a moment and join us. - Vinnie.|- Um-- Because, uh-- Trust is, uh--|Trust is life. Wow. That's very deep.|Thank you, Vinnie. Next time,|get the notes from your brother. If a patient doesn't feel|safe enough trust you, then|they won't be honest with you. Then there's really no point|for them being in therapy. I mean, hey, if they don't|trust you, you're never gonna|get them to sleep with you. That should be the goal|of any good therapist. Nail 'em|while they're vulnerable. That's my motto. Oh, good, everyone's back.|Welcome back, everybody. - Hello, Sean.|- Hey, Gerry. Um, ladies and gentlemen,|we are in the presence of greatness. Professor Gerald Lambeau, Field's medal|winner for combinatorial mathematics. - Hello.|- Anyone know what|the Field's medal is? It's a really big deal.|It's like the Nobel prize for math. Except they only give it out once|every four years. It's a great thing. It's an amazing honor.|Okay, everybody, that's it for today. Thanks. We'll see you Monday.|We'll be talking about Freud. Why he did enough cocaine|to kill a small horse. Thank you. - How are you?|- It's good to see you. Good to see you. - Sean, I think I got something|interesting for ya.|- Yeah? What, you have to have|blood and urine? What's up? Why didn't you come|to the reunion? You know, I'm--|I've been busy. - You were missed.|- Really? - So how long has it been|since we've seen each other?|- Before Nancy died. Yeah, I'm sorry. I was in Paris.|It was that damn conference. I got your card.|It was nice. - Come here.|- Now that's a takedown. Hey, what happened?|Did you get leniency or what? I got, uh, probation|and then counseling two days a week. Joke. You're a smoothie.|Come on, Morgan! Just submit! Hey, Bill, just-just get off him.|We're gonna miss the game. - I've got a full schedule.|I'm very busy.|- Sean, Sean. This-This boy is incredible.|I've never seen anything like him. What makes him|so incredible, Gerry? - You ever heard of Ramanujan?|- Yeah, yeah. No. It's a man. He lived|over 100 years ago. He was Indian. - Dots, not feathers.|- Not feathers. Yeah. He lived in this tiny hut|somewhere in India. He had no formal education. - He had no access|to any scientific work.|- Coffee? - You, sir?|- Just a little. But he came across|this old math book, and from the simple text,|he was able to extrapolate theories... that had baffled|mathematicians for years. Yes. Continued fractions.|He wrote, uh-- - Well, he mailed it|to Hardy at Cambridge.|- Yeah, Cambridge. Yeah. - And Hardy immediately recognized|the brilliance of his work...|- Mm-hmm. and brought him over to England,|and then they worked together for years, creating some of the most|exciting math theory ever done. This-This Ramanujan-- his-his genius|was unparalleled, Sean. - Well, this boy's just like that.|- Hmm. - But he's-- he's a bit defensive.|- Hmm. I need someone|who can get through to him. - Like me?|- Yeah, like you. - Why?|- Well, because you have|the same kind of background. - What background?|- Well, you're from|the same neighborhood. - He's from Southie?|- Yeah. Boy genius from Southie. - How many shrinks you go to before me?|- Five. - Let me guess.|Barry? Henry? Not Rick?|- Yeah. Yeah. - Sean, please, just meet|with him once a week.|- Mm-hmm. Please? It's a poker game with this kid.|Don't let him know what you've got. He probably even read your book,|if he could find it. It's gonna be hard|for him to find. - Hi, Will.|- Hi. This is Sean Maguire.|Will Hunting. How are ya? - Yeah. Let's get started.|- Yeah, let's do it. I'm pumped.|Let's let the healing begin. - Will you excuse us?|- Yeah, please, Tom. You, too, Gerry. Yeah, of course. How are you? Where you from|in Southie? -l like what you've done with the place.|-Oh, thanks. Do you buy all these books|retail, or do you send away for, like,|a "shrink kit" that comes with|all these volumes included? - Do you like books?|- Yeah. - Did you read any of these books?|- I don't know. - How about any of these books?|- Probably not. What about the ones|on the top shelf? You read those? - Yeah, I read those.|- Good for you. What do you|think about 'em? I'm not here for a fuckin' book|report. They're your books.|Why don't you read 'em? I did. I had to. - Must've taken you a long time.|- Yeah, it did. United States of America:|A Complete History, Volume l. Jesus. If you wanna read|a real history book, read Howard Zinn's|A People's History in the United States. That book'll fuckin'|knock you on your ass. Better than Chomsky's|Manufacturing Consent? - Do you think that's a good book?|- You fuckin' people baffle me. You spend all your money on|these fuckin' fancy books.|You surround yourselves with 'em. - They're the wrong fuckin' books.|- What are the right|fuckin' books, Will? - Whatever blows your hair back.|- Yeah. Haven't got much hair left. Hey, you know you'd be better|shoving that cigarette up your ass. - It'd probably be healthier for you.|- Yeah, I know. - It really gets in the way of my yoga.|- You work out, huh? - What, you lift?|- Yeah. - Nautilus?|- No, free weights. - Oh, really? Free weights, huh?|- Yeah. Yeah, big time. - Yeah?|- Just like that. - What do you bench?|- 285. What do you bench? You paint that? - Yeah. Do you paint?|- Uh-uh. - Do you sculpt?|- No. Do you like art? - Do you like music?|- This is a real piece of shit. Oh, tell me what|you really think. Just the linear and impressionistic mix|makes a very muddled composition. It's also a Winslow Homer|rip-off, except you got|whitey rowin' the boat there. Well, it's art, Monet.|It wasn't very good. - That's not really|what concerns me though.|- What concerns you? -Just the coloring.|-You know what the real bitch of it is? It's paint-by-number. Is it color-by-number? Because|the colors are fascinating to me. - Aren't they really?|- You bet. I think you're about one step away|from cuttin' your fuckin' ear off. - Really?|- Oh, yeah. Think I should move to the south of|France, change my name to "Vincent"? - You ever heard the sayin',|"any port in a storm"?|- Yeah. - Yeah, maybe that means you.|- In what way? - Maybe you're in the middle|of a storm, a big fuckin' storm.|- Yeah, maybe. The sky's fallin' on your head.|The waves are crashin'|over your little boat. The oars are about to snap. You just piss in your pants.|You're cryin' for the harbor. So maybe you do|what you gotta do to get out. You know, maybe you became|a psychologist. Bingo. That's it. Let me do my job now.|You start with me. Come on. - Maybe you married the wrong woman.|- Maybe you should watch your mouth! Watch it right there, chief,|all right? Ah. That's it, isn't it? You married|the wrong woman. What happened?|What, did she leave you? Was she, you know-- |banging some other guy? If you ever disrespect my wife again,|I will end you. I will fuckin' end you. Got that, chief? Time's up. Yeah. At ease, gentlemen. You okay? Look, I'll understand if you don't|wanna meet with him again. Thursday, 4:00.|Make sure the kid's here. Yeah. Thanks. Well, you look lovely|in those glasses. - Thank you very much.|- They're just beautiful. - Yes, I always wanted|dark blue eye shadow.|- Wonderful. Growing up in England, you know,|I went to a very nice school. You know, it was kind of progressive,|organic, do-it-yourself, private school. Then Harvard.|Hopefully med school. You know, I figured out,|by the end, my brain's gonna be worth|$250,000. That sounded horrible,|didn't it? Bring me another mai tai! Yeah, that's cool. I mean,|I bet your parents were happy to pay. No, I was happy to pay.|I inherited the money. Wow. Is Harvard gettin'|all that money? No, Stanford. I'm going there|in June when I graduate. All right, so you just wanted to use|this sailor and then run away, huh? I was gonna, you know, experiment on you|for anatomy class first, obviously. In that case, that's fine. - Hey, you wanna see|my magic tricks, Skylar?|- Of course. All right.|Promise to-- All right. - This one's for you, Rudolph.|- Wait, wait. You need my wand. All right, give me a hit.|Thank you. All right. I'm gonna make|all these caramels disappear. You ready?|Ready. One, two, three. They're all gone. That was my-- It works better|when I have my rabbit. Well-- I don't really date,|you know, that much. How very unfortunate...|I think for me. You know what I mean?|I know you've been thinking about it. - Oh, no, I haven't.|- Yes, you have. - No, I really haven't.|- Yes, you have. You were hoping|to get a good night kiss. No, you know, I tell ya,|I was hopin' to get a good night laid. But I'll settle for,|like, a kiss, you know? - How very noble of you.|- Thank you. - Mm.|- No, I was-- I was hopin' for a kiss. Well, why don't we just|get it out of the way now? - Right now?|- Yeah. Come on. I think I got|some of your pickle. You again, huh? Come with me. So what's this?|A Taster's Choice moment between guys? This is really nice. You got a thing|for swans? Is this, like, a fetish? Is it something, like, maybe|we need to devote some time to? - Thought about what you said to me|the other day. About my painting.|- Oh. Stayed up half the night|thinking about it. Something occurred to me. I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep|and haven't thought about you since. - You know what occurred to me?|- No. You're just a kid. You don't have the|faintest idea what you're talking about. - Why, thank you.|- It's all right. You've never been|out of Boston. Nope. So if I asked you about art,|you'd probably give me the skinny... on every art book|ever written. Michelangelo?|You know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations.|Him and the pope. Sexual orientation.|The whole works, right? I bet you can't tell me what it|smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You never actually stood there|and looked up at that beautiful ceiling. Seeing that. If I ask you about women, you'll probably give me a syllabus|of your personal favorites. You may have even been laid|a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like|to wake up next to a woman... and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. I ask you about war, you'd probably|throw Shakespeare at me, right? "Once more into the breach,|dear friends." But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's|head in your lap... and watch him gasp his last|breath lookin' to you for help. If I asked you about love,|you'd probably quote me a sonnet, but you've never looked at a woman|and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could|level you with her eyes. Feelin' like God put|an angel on Earth just for you, who could rescue you|from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know|what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her|be there forever. Through anything.|Through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleepin'|sittin' up in a hospital room... for two months,|holding her hand, because the doctors|could see in your eyes... that the terms "visiting hours"|don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause that only occurs when you love|something more than you love yourself. I doubt you've ever dared|to love anybody that much. I look at you. I don't see|an intelligent, confident man. I see a cocky,|scared shitless kid. But you're a genius, Will.|No one denies that. No one could possibly understand|the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about|me because you saw a painting of mine. You ripped|my fuckin' life apart. You're an orphan, right? Do you think I'd know the first thing|about how hard your life has been-- how you feel, who you are-- because I read Oliver Twist? Does that encapsulate you? Personally, I don't give a shit|about all that, because-- You know what? I can't|learn anything from you... I can't read|in some fuckin' book. Unless you wanna talk|about you, who you are. And I'm fascinated.|I'm in. But you don't wanna do that,|do you, sport? You're terrified|of what you might say. Your move, chief. Hello? Hello? Hello? Professor Valenti,|are you calling me again? Freak. - Oh, God.|- Christ, who did you call? - No one. I forgot the number.|- You fuckin' retarded? You went all the way out there in the|rain, and you didn't bring the number. No, it was your mother's 900 number.|I just ran out of quarters. Why don't we get off on mothers?|I just got off yours. That's|pretty funny, Morgan. That's a fuckin' nickel,|bitch. - Keep antagonizing me.|Watch what happens.|- All right, then, Morgan. - Watch what happens.|- All right, then, Morgan. Keep fuckin' with me. No smoking. What do you mean, he didn't talk?|You were in there for an hour. He just sat there counting the seconds|until the session was over. - Pretty impressive, actually.|- Why would he do that? To prove to me he doesn't have|to talk to me if he doesn't want to. What is this? Some kind of|staring contest between two kids|from the old neighborhood? Yeah, it is,|and I can't talk first. We know your theory, Alexander,|but the boy's found|a simple geometrical picture. - A tree structure won't work.|- Look now.|He's joining the two vertices. But I can do the sum. - It's how you group|the terms, Alexander.|- But, Gerry. If we do the whole thing|this way, then-- Hey, look, look. I wrote it down.|It's simpler this way. Sometimes|people get lucky. You're a brilliant man. You know,|I was on this plane once, and I'm sittin' there, and... the captain gets on,|he does his whole, you know, "we'll be cruisin' at 35,000 feet,"|but then he puts the mike down. - He forgets to turn it off.|- Mm-hmm. So he turns to the copilot.|He's, like, "You know, all I could use right now is|a fuckin' blow job and a cup of coffee." So the stewardess fuckin' goes bombin'|up from the back of the plane... to tell him|the microphone's still on. This guy in the back|of the plane's like, "Hey, hon,|don't forget the coffee." You ever been on a plane? No, but it's a fuckin' joke. It works|better if I tell it in the first person. Yeah, it does. I have been laid,|you know? Really? Good for you. - Big time, big time.|- Big time, huh? I went on a date last week. - How'd it go?|- It was good. - Goin' out again?|- I don't know. - Why?|- Haven't called her. - Christ, you're an amateur.|- I know what I'm doin'. Yeah. Don't worry about me.|I know what I'm doin'. Yeah, but this girl was, like,|you know, beautiful. She's smart. She's fun. She's different|from most of the girls I've been with. - So call her up, Romeo.|- Why, so I can realize|she's not that smart. That she's fuckin' boring?|You know, I mean, you don't-- This girl's, like, fuckin' perfect|right now. I don't wanna ruin that. Maybe you're perfect right now.|Maybe you don't wanna ruin that. But I think that's|a super philosophy, Will. That way, you can go through|your entire life without ever|having to really know anybody. My wife used to fart|when she was nervous. She had all sorts|of wonderful idiosyncrasies. You know, she used to fart|in her sleep. Just thought I'd share that|with you. One night it was so loud,|it woke the dog up. She woke up and gone, like,|"Was that you?" I said, "Yeah." I didn't have|the heart to tell her. Oh, God. - She woke herself up?|- Yes. Oh, Christ. But, Will,|she's been dead two years|and that's the shit I remember. It's wonderful stuff, you know?|Little things like that. Yeah, but those are the things|I miss the most. Those little idiosyncrasies|that only I knew about. That's what made her|my wife. Boy, and she had the goods on me too.|She knew all my little peccadillos. People call these things|"imperfections," but they're not. That's the good stuff. And then we get to choose who|we let into our weird little worlds. You're not perfect, sport. And let me save you|the suspense. This girl you met,|she isn't perfect either. But the question is whether or not|you're perfect for each other. That's the whole deal.|That's what intimacy is all about. Now you can know|everything in the world, sport, but the only way you're findin' out|that one is by givin' it a shot. You certainly won't learn|from an old fucker like me. Even if I did know,|I wouldn't tell a pissant like you. Yeah, why not? You told me every other|fuckin' thing. Jesus Christ. Fuckin' talk more than any shrink|I ever seen in my life. I teach the shit.|I didn't say I knew how to do it. Yeah. You ever think|about gettin' remarried? My wife's dead. - Hence the word "remarried."|- She's dead. Yeah, well, I think|that's a super philosophy, Sean. I mean, that way, you can actually|go through the rest of your life... without ever really knowing|anybody. Time's up. - Hold it open.|- Okay. Thanks. # I am happy with you # # I know I'm about|to love you # # Yeah, yeah, yeah|You know him # - # Oh, my, you made me-- ## "G" minor seventh.|Saddest of all chords. - Hello.|- Hey. - Where have you been?|- I'm sorry. I've been, like--|I've been really busy, and-- - But, um--|- Mmm. Me too. Yeah. I--|I thought you'd call. Yeah, um-- - I mean, we had a really good time.|- I had a really good time too. I mean, I just-- I-- I'm sorry, you know.|I blew it. No. No, I mean,|you know, it's all right. Yeah, um, so, I was|wonderin' if, uh, if, you know, you'd give me|another crack at it. You know, let me|take you out again. - I can't.|- All right. Oh, no, I didn't-- I didn't mean|I can't, like, ever. I just can't right now. I've got to assign|the proton spectrum for "ebogamine." All that sounds really,|really interesting. It's|actually fantastically boring. - All right, um--|- Maybe some other time. - Like tomorrow?|- Um, yeah, all right. - Okay.|- Okay. - Bye.|- Bye. What are you doing here? I couldn't wait|till tomorrow. Where the fuck|did you get this? I had to sleep|with someone in your class. Oh, I hope it was someone|with the open-toed sandals|and the really bad breath. - Come on. Let's go have some fun.|- No, I've got to learn this. Well, you're not going into|surgery tomorrow, are you? - No.|- Let's go. Oh, my God!|My dog is winning! Come on, Misty! Come on! Run!|Look at that! Come on! Look, there he goes.|Misty, run! Come on! - We won.|- He totally won. So did you grow up|around here then? Not far.|South Boston. Still glowing from my win. Look at you.|You're so happy. And what was|that like then? It was normal, I guess.|Nothin' special. Do you got lots of|brothers and sisters? - Do I have a lot of|brothers and sisters?|- That's what I said. - Well, Irish Catholic,|what do you think?|- Right. That's right. - How many?|- You wouldn't believe me if I told you. - Why? Go on. What? Five?|- No. Seven? Eight?|How many? - I have 12 big brothers.|- You do not! No, I swear to God. I swear to God.|I'm lucky 13 right here. Do you know|all their names? Do I-- Yeah,|they're my brothers. What are they called? Marky, Ricky, Danny, Terry,|Mikey, Davey, Timmy, Tommy,|Joey, Robby, Johnny and Brian. Say it again. Marky, Ricky, Danny, Terry,|Mikey, Davey, Timmy, Tommy,|Joey, Robby, Johnny and Brian. And Willy. - Willy?|- Yeah. - Will.|- Wow. - Do you still see all of them?|- Yeah, well, they all live in Southie. -I'm livin' with three of 'em right now.|-Oh, yeah? - Yeah.|- I'd like to meet them. Yeah, we'll do that. Oh, you know,|I read your book last night. Oh, so you're the one. Do you still, uh--|Do you still counsel veterans? No, I don't. - Why not?|- Well, I gave it up|when my wife got sick. You ever wonder what your life|would be like if you, uh,|if you never met your wife? What? Wonder if I'd be|better off without her? - No, no, no, I'm not saying,|like, better off.|- No. - I didn't mean it like that.|- It's all right.|It's an important question. 'Cause you'll have bad times,|but that'll always wake you up... to the good stuff|you weren't paying attention to. And you don't regret|meetin' your wife? Why? 'Cause the pain|I feel now? Oh, I got regrets, Will, but I don't|regret a single day I spent with her. So when did you know, like,|that she was the one for you? October 21, 1975. Jesus Christ.|You know the fuckin' day? Oh, yeah, 'cause it was game six|of the World Series, biggest|game in Red Sox history. - Yeah, sure.|- My friends and I had slept out|all night to get tickets. - You got tickets?|- Yep. Day of the game|I was sittin' in a bar, waitin' for the game to start|and in walks this girl. It was an amazing game though.|You know, bottom of the eighth,|Carbo ties it up. It was 6-6.|It went to 12. Bottom of the 12th, in stepped|Carlton Fisk, old Pudge. Steps up to the plate.|You know, he's got that weird stance. - Yeah, yeah.|- And then-- Boom!|He clocks it, you know. High fly ball|down the left field line! Thirty-five thousand people|on their feet, yellin' at the ball. But that's nothin', 'cause Fisk,|he's wavin' at the ball like a madman. - Yeah, I've seen that.|- "Get over! Get over! - Right.|- Get over!" Then it hits the foul pole.|He goes ape-shit, and 35,000 fans-- They charge the field,|you know. Yeah, and he's fuckin'|blowin' people outta the way. "Get outta the way!|Get outta the way!" I can't fuckin' believe you had|tickets to that fuckin' game! - Did you rush the field?|- No, I didn't rush the|fuckin' field. I wasn't there. - What?|- No, I was in a bar,|havin' a drink with my future wife. You missed Pudge Fisk's home run|to have a fuckin' drink|with some lady you never met? Yeah, but you should have|seen her. She was a stunner. - I don't care if--|- Oh, no, no, she lit up the room. - I don't care if Helen|of Troy walks into the room.|- Oh, Helen of Troy! That's game six! Oh, my God,|and who were these friends of yours? - They let you get away with that?|- They had to. -What did you say to 'em?|-l just slid my ticket across the table. I said, "Sorry, guys.|I gotta see about a girl." - "I gotta go see about a girl"?|- Yes! That's what you said?|They let you get away with that? Oh, yeah. They saw it|in my eyes that I meant it. - You're kiddin' me?|- No, I'm not kidding you, Will. That's why I'm not talkin'|right now about some girl|I saw at a bar 20 years ago... and how I always regretted|not goin' over and talkin' to her. I don't regret the 18 years|I was married to Nancy. I don't regret the six years I had|to give up counseling when she got sick, and I don't regret the last years|when she got really sick. And I sure as hell don't|regret missin' a damn game. That's regret. Wow! Would have been nice|to catch that game though. I didn't know Pudge|was gonna hit a home run. You know, I'm very, very|useful on the court. I'm extremely tall. - You're not that tall.|- I dunk. Will I ever play in the N.B.A.? "It is decidedly so."|Hmph. Why do we always stay here? 'Cause it's nicer|than my place. Yes, but I've never|seen your place. I know. When am I gonna meet|your friends and your brothers? Well, they don't really|come down here that much. I think I can make it|to South Boston. It's kind of a hike. Is it me you're hiding from them|or the other way around? - All right, we'll go.|- When? I don't know.|We'll go sometime next week. What if I said I would not|sleep with you again until|you let me meet your friends? I'd say it's, like, 4:30 in the mornin'.|They're probably up. Oh, my God.|Men are shameless. If you're not thinking|with your wiener, then you're|acting directly on its behalf. You bet. And on behalf of my wiener,|can I get an advance payment? I don't know. Let's ask.|"Outlook does not look good." - What?|- Fuck the-- Hey, Chuck.|No. Nothing. Go back to sleep. "Outlook"? That's the|same thing that told you|you was gonna play in the N.B.A. Exactly, so look out. You'd better|start buying some season tickets. Mmm! I plan to. I'm tall.|I like wearing shorts. Hook, hook. Dunk, dunk. - You're not that tall.|- Yes, I am. Maybe I'm all|about three points. I'm all about home runs. Stop mixing your|sporting metaphors. A leprechaun's got his dick|in the monkey's ass. Morgan comes runnin' in, goin',|"l don't mind it. I don't mind--" Well, I can't believe you|brought Skylar here when we're|fuckin' all bombed and drinkin'. I know, Morgan. It's a real rarity|we'd be all drinkin'. My uncle Marty drinks. He'll go|on a bender for six, eight months. Did I ever tell ya what happened|to him when he was drivin'|up there and got pulled over? - I told you guys, right?|- Marty, yeah. Let me tell ya what happened to my uncle|Marty, because you oughta know this. He's always tellin' stories. Every time|we come here he's got another story. But we all heard this one.|Go ahead. Say it anyway. I will go ahead. Thanks a lot.|Guess I have the floor now. My uncle Marty's|drivin' home, right? Bombed out of his tree, right? Just|hammered out of his gourd. Just wrecked. This state trooper sees him, pulls him|over. So my uncle's fucked basically. Got him out of the car,|tryin' to make him walk the line. He gets out of the car, pukes,|and the statie's pretty sure|he's over the legal limit. So he's about to throw the cuffs|on him and put him in jail. All of a sudden, 50 yards down the road,|there's this huge fuckin' boom. - Statie gets real spooked.|He turns around--|- He got shot? No. So-- So-- You|heard this story before. Yeah, Morgan, stop.|Stop. Some other guy's car had hit a tree.|There was an accident. Anyway-- - How could he hear--|- Shut the fuck up! - You're drivin' him nuts.|- I'm gonna break your neck. Shut up! He told you the story|once before. So he tells my uncle,|"Stay here. Don't move." Statie goes runnin' down the road|to deal with the other accident. After a few minutes of just|lyin' in his own piss and vomit, my uncle starts wonderin'|what he's doin' there. Gets up, gets in his car|and just drives home. The next mornin'|my uncle's just passed out. He hears this knockin' at the door. So he goes downstairs,|pulls the door open-- "What?" It's the state trooper|that pulled him over. Statie says,|"Fuck you mean, 'What?' You know what. I pulled you over|last night is what, and you took off." He's like, "l never|seen you before in my life. I've been home all night with my kids.|I don't know who the fuck you are." He's like, "You know who I am.|Let me get in your garage." My uncle's like, "What?" He said, "You|heard me. Let me get in your garage." He was like, "All right. Fine." Takes|him out to the garage, opens the door. And there's-- The statie's police|cruiser is in my uncle's garage. He was so fuckin'-- He was so fuckin' hammered|he drove the wrong car home. The best part about it is,|the fuckin' state trooper... was so embarrassed|he didn't do anything. He'd been drivin' around all night in my|uncle's Chevelle, lookin' for the house. All right, Chuck, what the fuck|is the point of your story? He got away.|That's the point. - Well, question--|- Come on. Stop. - I'm tryin' to clarify somethin'.|- You're embarrassing him. - It doesn't make any sense.|- It does make sense, if you listen to the story|and quit askin' questions. Well, let's see if you can get this one.|I've got a little story for you. All right, there's an old couple|in bed, Mary and Paddie. They wake up on the morning|of their 50th anniversary. Mary looks over and|gazes adoringly at Paddie. She's like,|"Oh, Jesus, Paddie. You're such a good-looking|feller. I love ya. I want to give ya|a little present. Anything your little heart desires,|I'm goin' to give it to ya. What would ya like? Paddie's like, "Oh, gee, Mary.|That's a very sweet offer. Now, in 50 years, there's one thing|that's been missing, and, uh, I would like you|to give me a blow job. I would like for it."|Mary's like, "All right." She takes her teeth out, puts 'em in|the glass. She gives him a blow job. Afterwards, Paddie's like, "Yeah, geez,|now that's what I've been missin'. That was the most beautiful,|earth-shattering thing ever! Beautiful, Mary!|I love ya! Is there anything|that I can do for you?" Mary looks up to him and she goes,|"Give us a kiss." - Oh!|- Oh, my God! - That's filthy.|- It's not that filthy.|I've heard filthy. - Get off of me!|- All right. See you guys later. All right.|Take it easy, Bill. So, Skylar,|thanks for comin' by. Changed my opinion|of Harvard people. You don't want to rush|to judgment on that one,|'cause they're not all like me. Oh. I'm sure.|It was nice to meet ya. - Oh.|- Take it easy. Slowly back away. - Oh, come on. Brother.|- I don't know what you're doin', dude. - You're givin' us a ride.|- What the fuck do I look like to you? - Come on, Chuck.|- You're walkin', bitch.|Will's takin' the car. All right, thanks, sucker.|I appreciate it. I don't know what you're|gettin' all serious about. - You're droppin' me off first.|- It's really out of the way. Oh, okay. Just 'cause you|don't have to sleep in your|one-room palace tonight... don't start|thinkin' you're bad. Hey, wait a minute. You said|we were gonna see your place. - Not tonight.|- Oh, no, not tonight.|Not any other night. He knows once you see that shit-hole|he's gettin' dropped like a bad habit. But I wanted to meet|your brothers. We're gonna do that|another time. All right. Need them keys. The stewardess hears this|and goes haulin' ass down the aisle. I yell,|"Don't forget the coffee." No shit!|You didn't say that. For Christ's sake, Marty,|it's a joke. - I know someone that|actually happened to, Marty.|- A joke. - Gerry.|- Hi. - Have trouble findin' the place?|- No, I took a cab. Timmy, this is Gerry.|We went to college together. How you doin'?|Nice to meet ya. - Pleased to meet you.|- Can I get you a beer? Um, no, just a Perrier. That's French|for club soda. - Club soda, yeah.|- Couple of sandwiches too. - Sure.|- Put it on my tab. You ever plannin'|on payin' your tab? Yeah, chief, got the winning|lottery ticket right here. - What's the jackpot?|- Twelve million. - I don't think that'll cover it.|- It'll cover your sex change operation. - Nuts?|- No, thank you. So, you wanted|to talk about Will. - Well, it seems to be going well.|- I think so. Have you talked to him|at all about his future? No, we haven't gotten into that yet.|We're still bangin' away at the past. Maybe you should. My phone's been|ringing off the hook with job offers. - What kind?|- Cutting edge mathematics, think tanks. The kind of place where a mind|like Will's is given free rein. That's great that there are|offers, but I don't really|think he's ready for that. I'm not sure|you understand, Sean. - What don't I understand?|- Here you go, guys. - Thanks, Tim.|- Yeah, thank you. Just so you don't|get sticky fingers. Tim, can you help us? We're tryin'|to settle a bet. Uh-oh. - Ever heard of Jonas Salk?|- Sure. Cured polio. -Ever heard of Albert Einstein?|-Hey. How about Gerald Lambeau?|Ever heard of him? - No.|- Thank you, Tim. - So who won the bet?|- I did. This isn't about me, Sean. I'm nothing compared|to this young man. You ever hear of|Gerald Lambeau? In 1905 there were hundreds|of professors renown for|their study of the universe. But it was a 26-year-old|Swiss patent clerk, doing physics in his spare time,|who changed the world. Can you imagine if Einstein|would have given that up... just to get drunk with his buddies|in Vienna every night. We all would have|lost something. Tim would never|have heard of him. - Pretty dramatic, Gerry.|- No, it isn't, Sean. This boy has that gift. He just doesn't got the direction,|but we can give that to him. Hey, Gerry, in the 1960s,|there was a young man graduated|from University of Michigan. Did some brilliant work|in mathematics. Specifically,|bounded harmonic functions. Then he went on to Berkeley.|He was assistant professor.|Showed amazing potential. Then he moved to Montana, and|he blew the competition away. - Yeah, so who was he?|- Ted Kaczynski. Haven't heard of him. - Hey, Timmy!|- Yo! - Who's Ted Kaczynski?|- Unabomber. That's exactly|what I'm talking about. - We gotta give this kid direction.|- Yeah-- He can contribute to the world,|and we can help him do that. Direction's one thing.|Manipulation's another. - Sean--|- We have to let him find-- I'm not sitting at home|every night twisting my mustache|and hatching a plan... to ruin this boy's life! I was doing advanced mathematics|when I was 18, and it still took me over 20 years to do|something worthy of a Field's medal. Maybe he doesn't want|what you want. There's more to life|than a fuckin' Field's medal. This is too important, Sean,|and it's above personal rivalry. Wait a minute.|Let's talk about the boy. Why don't we give him time|to figure out what he wants? That's a wonderful theory, Sean.|It worked wonders for you, didn't it? Yeah, it did,|you arrogant fuckin' prick! Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry|that I came here today. I came here out of courtesy.|I wanted to keep you in the loop. Nice to be in the loop. The boy's in a meeting right now|I set up for him over at McNeil. Well, Will, I'm not exactly sure|what you mean. We've already|offered you a position. Nobody in this town works|without a retainer, guys. You think you can find somebody|who does, you have my blessin'. But I think we all know|that person is not gonna|represent you as well as I can. Will, our offer|is $84,000 a year. Retainer!|Retainer. You want us to give you|cash right now? Whoa-ho-ho. Easy--|Now, I didn't say that. Allegedly,|your situation, for you, would be concurrently|improved if I had... $200 in my back pocket|right now. I don't think I can-- Larry? - I've got $73.|- Will you take a check? Let me tell you somethin'.|You're suspect. Yeah, you. I don't know|what your reputation is in this town, but after the shit|you tried to pull today, you can bet|I'll be lookin' into you. Now, any business|we have heretofore, you can speak with|my aforementioned attorney. Good day, gentlemen. And until that day comes,|keep your ear to the grindstone. - How's it goin'?|- Fine. Yeah. Good. - Want some help?|- No! Come on. Give me one little peek,|and we'll go to the batting cages. No. It is actually important|that I learn this. - It's really important... to me, okay?|- All right. - Why don't we just|hang out here all day?|- Yes, why don't we? All right, Mr. Nosey Parker. Seeing as you're intent|on breaking my balls, - let me ask you a question.|- All right. Do you have|a photographic memory? I don't know. I just kind|of remember. I mean, how do you|remember your phone number? You just do. - Have you studied organic chemistry?|- A little bit. - Oh, just for fun?|- Yeah, for kicks. Yeah, it's so much fun|studying organic chemistry. Are you mad? Have you completely|lost your mind? Nobody studies it for fun.|It's not a necessity,|especially for someone like you. - Someone like me?|- Yeah. Someone who divides their time, fairly|evenly, between batting cages and bars. - I would hardly say it was a necessity.|- Oh. You know, there are very|smart people here at Harvard. Even they have to study,|because this is really hard. And yet... you do it|so easily. I don't understand. I don't understand|how your mind works. - Did you play the piano?|- I want to talk about this. No, I'm trying to explain it to you.|Do you play the piano? - Yeah, a bit.|- So when you look at|a piano, you see Mozart. - I see "Chopsticks."|- All right, well, Beethoven, okay? He looked at a piano, and it just|made sense to him. He could just play. - So what are you saying?|You play the piano?|- Not a lick. I look at a piano, I see a bunch of|keys, three pedals and a box of wood. But Beethoven, Mozart--|They saw it. They could just play. I couldn't paint you a picture.|I probably can't hit the ball|out of Fenway. - And I can't play the piano.|- But you can do my|O-chem paper in under an hour. Right. Well, I mean, when|it came to stuff like that,|I could always just play. That's the best|I can explain it. - Come here.|I have to tell you something.|- Huh? - I have to tell you something.|- Oh. Well-- - It's not fair.|- What's not fair? What? I've been here for four years, and I've only just found you. Well, you found me. - Are you awake?|- No. Yes, you are. What? I want you to come|to California with me. - You sure about that?|- Oh, yeah. Yeah, but how do you know? I don't know.|I just know. Yeah, but how do you know? I know because I feel it. - Because that's a really|serious thing you're saying.|- I know. You could be in California|next week... and you might find out|something about me you don't like. Maybe you wish|you hadn't said that, but you know it's such a serious thing|you can't take it back. Now I'm stuck in California with someone|that doesn't really want to be with me, - just wish they had a take-back.|- A what? What's a take-back? I don't want a take-back. I just want|you to come to California with me. Well, I can't go to|California with you, so-- Why not? Well, one, because|I got a job here. And, two,|because I live here. Look, um, if you don't love me,|you should just tell me. I'm not sayin'|I don't love you. Then why? Why won't you come?|What are you so scared of? What am I so scared of? Well, what aren't|you scared of? You live in this safe little world|where no one challenges you-- Don't tell me about my world.|Don't tell me about my world. You just want to have|your little fling with the guy|from the other side of town. Then you're gonna go off to Stanford.|You're gonna marry some rich prick... who your parents|will approve of... and just sit around with|the other trust fund babies... and talk about how you|went slummin', too, once. Why are you saying this?|What is your obsession with this money? My father died when I was 13,|and I inherited this money. You don't think every day I wake up,|and I wish I could give it back. That I would give it back|in a second if it meant I could|have one more day with him. But I can't, and that's|my life, and I deal with it. So don't put your shit on me|when you're the one that's afraid. I'm afraid? What am I afraid of?|What the fuck am I afraid of? You're afraid of me. You're afraid|that I won't love you back. You know what?|I'm afraid too. But fuck it, I want to give it a shot.|At least I'm honest with you. - I'm not honest with you?|- No, what about your 12 brothers? All right. No, you're not going.|You're not leaving. What do you want to know?|That I don't have 12 brothers?|That I'm a fuckin' orphan? - You don't want to hear that.|- I didn't know that. You don't want to hear|I got fuckin' cigarettes|put out on me when I was little. - I didn't know that.|- That this isn't fuckin' surgery. The motherfucker stabbed me. You don't|want to hear that shit, Skylar! - I do want to hear that.|- Don't tell me you want that shit! - I want to help you.|- Help me? What the fuck? What do I got, a fuckin' sign|on my back that says, "Save me"? - No.|- Do I look like I need that? - No, I just want to be with you--|- Don't bullshit me! - I love you.|- Don't bullshit me!|Don't you fuckin' bullshit me! I love you. I want to hear you say|that you don't love me. Because if you say that... then I won't call you... and I won't be in your life. I don't love you. Most people never get to see|how brilliant they can be. They don't find teachers|that believe in them. They get convinced|they're stupid. I hope you appreciate|what he's doing, because I've seen how much|he enjoys working with you, not against you. Hello, Will. Tom, can you get us|some coffee? Sure. Now, let's see. Good. This is correct. I see you used Maclaurin here. Yeah, I don't know what|you call it, but-- This can't be right. This would be|very embarrassing. - Did you ever consider--|- I'm pretty sure it's right. Hey, look, can we do this|at Sean's office from now on? Because I got to knock off work to come|here and the commute is killin' me. - Yeah, sure. Did you think|of the possibility--|- That's right. It's right.|Just take it home with you. What happened|at the McNeil meeting? I couldn't go.|I had a date. So I sent my|chief negotiator. On your own time, you can do|whatever you like, Will. But when I set up a meeting|with my associates, and you don't show up,|it reflects poorly on me. - Then don't set up any more meetings.|- I won't. I'll cancel 'em. I'll give you a job myself. I just|wanted you to see what was out there. Maybe I don't want to spend|the rest of my fuckin' life|explainin' shit to people. I think you could show me|some appreciation. A little appreciation?|Do you know how easy this is for me? Do you have any fuckin' idea how easy|this is? This is a fuckin' joke. I'm sorry you can't do this--|I really am-- Because I wouldn't have to|fuckin' sit here and watch you|fumble around and fuck it up. Then you'd have more time to sit around|and get drunk instead, wouldn't you? You're right. This is probably|a total waste of my time. You're right, Will. I can't do this proof,|but you can. And when it comes to that,|it's only about just a handful|of people in the world... who can tell the difference|between you and me. - But I'm one of them.|- Sorry. Yeah, so am l. Most days I wish|I never met you, because then I could|sleep at night. I didn't have to walk around|with the knowledge that there|was someone like you out there. I didn't have to watch you|throw it all away. Bill, hold it. Did you hear that? Morgan! If you're watchin' pornos in|my mom's room again, I'm gonna|give you a fuckin' beatin'! What's up, fellas? Morgan, why don't you jerk off|in your own fuckin' house.|That's fuckin' filthy. I don't have a V.C.R.|in my house. Come on. Not in my glove. I didn't use the glove. That's my|Little League glove. What do you want me|to do? I mean, what's wrong|with you? You'll hump|a baseball glove? l-l just used it|for cleanup. Stop jerkin' off in my mother's room. - Is there another V.C.R. in the house?|- It's just sad, bro. So why do you think I should work|for the National Security Agency? Well, you'd be working|on the cutting edge. You'd be exposed to|the kind of technology|you wouldn't see anywhere else, because we've classified it. Superstring theory,|chaos math, advanced algorithms. Code breaking. That's one aspect|of what we do. Oh, come on.|That is what you do. You guys handle 80% of|the intelligence workload. You're seven times|the size of the C.I.A. We don't like to brag about that, Will,|but you're exactly right. So the way I see it,|the question isn't: "Why should you work|for the N.S.A.?" The question is:|"Why shouldn't you?" Why shouldn't|I work for the N.S.A.? That's a tough one,|but I'll take a shot. Say I'm workin' at the N.S.A.|and somebody puts a code on my desk. Something no one else|can break. Maybe I take a shot at it|and maybe I break it. I'm real happy with myself|because I did my job well. But maybe that code was|the location of some rebel army|in North Africa or Middle East. Once they have that location, they bomb|the village where the rebels are hidin'. Fifteen hundred people that I never met,|never had no problem with, get killed. Now the politicians are saying, "Send in|the Marines to secure the area," 'cause they don't give a shit. It won't be their kid|over there gettin' shot, just like it wasn't them when|their number got called 'cause|they were in the National Guard. It'll be some kid from Southie|over there takin' shrapnel in the ass. He comes back to find the plant|he used to work at... got exported to the country|he got back from, and the guy who put the shrapnel|in his ass got his old job... 'cause he'll work for 15 cents|a day and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile, he realizes the only reason|he was over there in the first place... was so we could install a government|that would sell us oil at a good price. Of course, the oil companies|used a skirmish over there|to scare up domestic oil prices. A cute little ancillary benefit|for them, but it ain't helpin'|my buddy at 2.50 a gallon. They're takin' their sweet time|bringin' the oil, of course. Maybe they even took the liberty|to hire an alcoholic skipper, who likes to drink martinis and fuckin'|play slalom with the icebergs. It ain't too long till|he hits one, spills the oil... and kills all the sea life|in the North Atlantic. So now my buddy's out of work,|he can't afford to drive, so he's walkin' to|the fuckin' job interviews... which sucks because the shrapnel in his|ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids. Meanwhile, he's starvin', 'cause every|time he tries to get a bite to eat, the only blue plate special|they're servin'... is North Atlantic scrod|with Quaker State. So what did I think?|I'm holdin' out for somethin' better. I figure, fuck it. While I'm at it,|why not just shoot my buddy, take his job,|give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb|a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe|and join the National Guard? I can be|elected president. - You feel like you're alone?|- What? Do you have a soul mate? Do I have a--|Define that. Somebody who challenges you. - Uh, Chuckie.|- No, Chuckie's family. He'd lie|down in fuckin' traffic for you. I'm talking about someone who opens|up things for you, touches your soul. - I got-- I got--|- Who? - I got plenty.|- Well, name 'em. Shakespeare, Nietzsche, Frost,|O'Connor, Kant, Pope, Locke-- That's great.|They're all dead. - Not to me they're not.|- You don't have|a lot of dialogue with them. You can't give back|to them, Will. - Not without some serious|smelling salts and a heater.|- That's what I'm saying. You'll never have that kind|of relationship in a world... where you're always afraid|to take the first step, because all you see is every|negative thing ten miles down the road. - You gonna take the|professor's side on this?|- Don't give me a line of shit. - No.|- I didn't want the job. It's not about the job. I don't care|if you work for the government. But you can do anything you want.|You are bound by nothing. What are you passionate about?|What do you want? There are guys who work|their entire life layin' brick... so their kids have a chance|at the opportunities you have here. - I didn't ask for this.|- No. You were born with it, so don't cop out|behind: "l didn't ask for this." - What do you mean, cop out?|What's wrong with layin' brick?|- Nothing. There's nothin' wrong.|That's somebody's home I'm buildin'. Right. My dad|laid brick, okay? Busted his ass so|I could have an education. Exactly. That's|an honorable profession. What's wrong with|fixin' somebody's car? Someone will get to work the next day|because of me. That's honor in that. Yeah, there is, Will.|There is honor in that. There's honor in takin'|that 40-minute train ride... so those college kids could come in in|the morning and their floors are clean. - And their wastebaskets|are empty. That's real work.|- That's right. And that's honorable. I'm sure|that's why you took that job. I mean, for the honor of it. I just have a little question here.|You could be a janitor anywhere. Why did you work at the most|prestigious technical college|in the whole fuckin' world? Why did you sneak around at night|and finish other people's formulas... that only one or two people in the world|could do and then lie about it? 'Cause I don't see|a lot of honor in that, Will. So what do you|really wanna do? I wanna be a shepherd. Really? I wanna move up to Nashua,|get a nice little spread,|get some sheep and tend to them. - Maybe you should go do that.|- What? You know, if you're gonna|jerk off, why don't you just do|it at home with a moist towel? - You're chuckin' me?|- Yeah, get the fuck outta here. - No, no, no, time's not up yet.|- Yeah, it is. - I'm not leavin'. No.|- You're not gonna answer,|you're wastin' my time. I thought we were friends. - Playtime's over, okay?|- Why are you kickin' me out? You're lecturin' me on life?|Look at you, you fuckin' burnout. - What winds your clock?|- Workin' with you. Where's your soul mate? You wanna|talk about soul mates? Where is she? - Dead.|- That's right. She's fuckin' dead. She fuckin' dies and you just cash in|your chips and you walk away? - At least I played a hand.|- You played a hand and you lost.|You lost a big fuckin' hand. Some people will lose a big hand like|that and have the sack to ante up again. Look at me.|What do you wanna do? You and your bullshit.|You got a bullshit answer for everybody. But I ask you a very simple question and|you can't give me a straight answer, because you don't know. I'll see ya, Bo-peep. - Fuck you.|- You're the shepherd. Shepherd. White little prick. I just wanted to,|you know, um, call you up,|uh, before you left, um-- I've been takin' all these|jobs interviews and stuff, so I'm not gonna be just|a construction worker. Well, you know, I never|really cared about that. Yeah. I love you. Will? You take care. # Someone's always|comin' around here # - # Trailin' some new kill #|- Bye. # Says, I seen your picture|on a # # Hundred-dollar bill # # What's a game of chance|to you # # In this world # # Of real skill # # So glad to meet ya # # Angeles # # Pickin' up the ticket|shows there's money to be made # # Go on, lose the gamble # # That's the history|of the trade # # Did you add up|all the cards left to play # # To zero # # And sign up with people # # Angeles # # Don't start with me|tryin' # Will, come on.|Will! Will, that's it!|We're done! I'm sitting in your office|and the boy isn't here. Well, it's ten past 5:00. An hour and|ten minutes late. # I can make you satisfied|in everything # Well, if he doesn't show up and I file|a report saying he wasn't here... and he goes back to jail,|he won't be on my conscience. # Now be coming true ## Okay. Fine. What's up? Thanks. Ah! God, that's good. So how's your lady? Ah, she's gone. Gone? Gone where? Med school.|Medical school in California. - Really?|- Yeah. - When was this?|- It was, like, a week ago. That sucks. So, uh, when are you done|with those meetings? I think the week|after I'm 21. They gonna hook ya up|with a job or what? Yeah, fuckin' sit in a room and do|long division for the next 50 years. Nah, probably make|some nice bank though. I'm gonna be|a fuckin' lab rat. Better than this shit.|Way outta here. What do I want a way|outta here for? I mean, I'm gonna fuckin'|live here the rest of my life. You know, be neighbors.|You know, have little kids. Fuckin' take 'em to Little League|together up Foley Field. Look, you're my best friend,|so don't take this the wrong way. But in 20 years if|you're still livin' here, comin' over to my house|to watch the Patriots games, still workin' construction,|I'll fuckin' kill ya. That's not a threat. That's a fact.|I'll fuckin' kill ya. What the fuck|are you talkin' about? - Look, you got something|none of us have.|- Oh, come on! Why is it always this? I fuckin'|owe it to myself to do this or that. - What if I don't want to?|- No, no, no. Fuck you.|You don't owe it to yourself. You owe it to me, 'cause tomorrow I'm gonna|wake up and I'll be 50, and I'll still|be doin' this shit. That's all right.|That's fine. I mean, you're sittin' on|a winnin' lottery ticket. You're too much of a pussy|to cash it in, and that's bullshit. 'Cause I'd do fuckin' anything|to have what you got. So would any of|these fuckin' guys. Be an insult to us|if you're still here in 20 years. Hangin' around here|is a fuckin' waste of your time. - You don't know that.|- I don't? - No. You don't know that.|- Oh, I don't know that.|Let me tell you what I do know. Every day I come by your house,|and I pick you up. We go out and have a few drinks|and few laughs, and it's great. You know what the|best part of my day is? It's for about ten seconds:|from when I pull up to the curb|and when I get to your door. 'Cause I think maybe I'll|get up there and I'll knock on|the door and you won't be there. No "good-bye," no "see ya later."|No nothing. You just left. I don't know much,|but I know that. This is a disaster, Sean. I brought you in here because|I wanted you to help me with the boy, - not to run him out.|- I know what I'm doing with the boy. I don't care if you have|a rapport with the boy! I don't care if you have a few laughs,|even at my expense. - But don't you dare undermine|what I'm trying to do here.|- Undermine? This boy is at|a fragile point right now. I do understand. He is at|a fragile point. He's got problems. What problems does he have? That he's|better off as a janitor, in jail? Better hanging out with|a bunch of retarded gorillas? Why do you think he does that?|You have any fuckin' clue why? He can handle the problems.|He can handle the work.|He obviously handled you. Listen to me.|Why is he hiding? Why doesn't|he trust anybody? Because the first thing|that happened to him, he was abandoned by the people|who were supposed to love him the most. Don't give me|that Freudian crap. Why does he hang out with those|retarded gorillas, as you call them? Because any one of them, if he asked|them to, would take a bat to your head. - That's called loyalty.|- Yeah, that's very touching. Who's he handling?|He pushes people away before|they have a chance to leave him. It's a defense mechanism,|all right? For 20 years, he's been|alone because of that. If you push him right now, it's gonna|be the same thing all over again. I'm not gonna|let that happen to him. - Don't you do that.|- What? Don't infect him with the idea|that it's okay to quit, that|it's okay to be a failure. Because it's not okay, Sean! And if you're angry at me|for being successful, for|being what you could have been-- - I'm not angry at you.|- Oh, yes, you're angry at me. You resent me, but I'm not gonna|apologize for any success I've had. You're angry at me for doing|what you could have done! But ask yourself, Sean--|Ask yourself... if you want Will to feel that way--|if you want him to feel like a failure? You arrogant shit! That's why I don't come to the|goddamn reunions, 'cause I can't|stand that look in your eye. - That condescending, embarrassed look.|- Oh, come on, Sean. You think I'm a failure.|I know who I am. I'm proud of what I do. It was|a conscious choice. I didn't fuck up! And you and your cronies think|I'm some sort of pity case. You and your kiss-ass chorus following|you around going, "The Field's medal!" Why are you still so|fuckin' afraid of failure? It's about my medal, isn't it?|Oh, God, I could go home and get|it for you. You can have it. Shove the medal up|your fuckin' ass, all right? 'Cause I don't give|a shit about your medal, because I knew you before|you were a mathematical god, when you were pimple-faced|and homesick and didn't know|what side of the bed to piss on. Yeah, you were smarter than me then|and you're smarter than me now. So don't blame me for|how your life turned out. I don't blame you!|It's not about you! You mathematical dick!|It's about the boy! He's a good kid! And I won't|see you fuck him up like you're|tryin' to fuck up me right now. I won't see you make him|feel like a failure too! -He won't be a failure!|-But if you push him! If you ride him! I am what I am today|because I was pushed and because|I learned to push myself. He's not you!|You get that! I can come back. No, come in.|Uh, I was just leaving. A lot of that stuff goes back|a long way between me and him. You know. Not about you. What is that? This is your file. I have to send it|back to the judge for evaluation. Oh. Hey, you're not|gonna fail me, are you? What's it say? - Wanna read it?|- Why? Have you had any, uh,|experience with that? Twenty years of counseling.|Yeah, I've seen some pretty awful shit. I mean, have you had|any experience with that? - Personally?|- Yeah. Yeah, I have. It sure ain't good. My father was an alcoholic. Mean fuckin' drunk. He'd come home hammered,|lookin' to whale on somebody. So I'd provoke him so he wouldn't go|after my mother and little brother. Interesting nights|when he wore his rings. He used to just|put a wrench, a stick and a belt|on the table. - Just say, "Choose."|- Well, I gotta go with the belt there. I used to go with the wrench. Why the wrench? 'Cause fuck him, that's why. - Your foster father?|- Yeah. So, uh, what is it, like,|Will has an attachment disorder? Is it all that stuff? Fear of abandonment? Is that why I broke up|with Skylar? - I didn't know you had.|- Yeah, I did. - You wanna talk about it?|- No. Hey, Will,|I don't know a lot. You see this?|All this shit? It's not your fault. Yeah, I know that. Look at me, son. - It's not your fault.|- I know. No. It's not|your fault. I know. No, no, you don't.|It's not your fault. - Hmm?|- I know. - It's not your fault.|- All right. It's not your fault. - It's not your fault.|- Don't fuck with me. It's not your fault. Don't fuck with me, all right?|Don't fuck with me, Sean, not you. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. My God-- My God! I'm so sorry!|My God! Fuck them, okay? - Can I help you?|- Yeah, I'm Will Hunting.|I'm here about a position. Could you just have|a seat for a moment? Yes, there's|a Mr. Hunting in the lobby. Which one did you take? I was over at McNeil. It's one of|the jobs the professor set me up with. I haven't told him yet, but I went|down there and talked to my boss-- My new boss.|He seemed like a good guy. - Is that what you want?|- Yeah, you know, I think so. Well, good for you.|Congratulations. Thanks. Time's up. So that's-- So that's it?|So we're done? Yeah, that's it. You're done.|You're a free man. Well, um, I just want you|to know, Sean, that-- You're welcome, Will. So, you know, I hope|we keep in touch, you know. Yeah, me too. I'll be travelin' around a bit.|It'll be a little hard, but, uh-- I've got an answering machine at|the college I'll be checking in with. So, here's the number. You call that.|I'll get back to you right away. Yeah, you know,|I figured I'm just gonna... put my money back on the table|and see what kind of cards I get. You do what's in your heart,|son. You'll be fine. - Thank you, Sean.|- Uh-- Thank you, Will. Hey, does this violate|the patient-doctor relationship? Naw. Only if you|grab my ass. - Take care.|- You too. Yeah. Hey. Good luck, son. Two beers. What's up?|Did you guys go? No. I had to talk him down. - Why didn't you yoke him?|- Little Morgan's|got a lot of scrap to him. People try to whip|his ass every week. - Fuckin' kid won't back down.|- What are you sayin' about me? Was I talkin' to you?|None of your fuckin' business. - Go get me a beer.|- I ordered two beers! - Hey, asshole.|- What, bitch? -Happy birthday.|-Thought we forgot, huh, bitch? - Come on!|- I'm goin'. I'm goin'. All right. Who's first? - Come on, motherfucker!|- Who's first? # Oh, Danny boy ## Here's your present. - Come on, bro.|- What? Well, we knew you had to get back and|forth to Cambridge for your new job. I knew I wasn't gonna fuckin'|drive you every day, so-- - Morgan wanted to get you a "T" pass.|- That's not what I was sayin'! But, uh, you're 21 now. You're legally allowed to drink, so we|figured the best thing for ya was a car. - How do you like it?|- This is like-- It's the ugliest fuckin' car|I've ever seen in my life. - Come on, brother.|- How'd you guys do this? You know, me and Bill|scraped together the parts, and Morgan was out panhandlin'|for change every day. I had the router to do|all the bodywork. Yeah, I have a fuckin' job,|too, brother. Guy's been up my ass for|two years about a job. I had|to let him help with the car. So you finally got a job,|huh, Morgan? - Yeah, had one. Now I'm fucked again.|- So what is it? - A lawn mower? What do ya got?|- It's a straight fuckin' six. Me and Bill rebuilt|this engine ourselves here. It's a good car.|The engine's good. Engine's good. - Happy 21, Will.|- Happy 21, brother. Hi. Come on in. Sean, l, um-- Me too, Gerry. Yeah. Good. I heard you're|takin' some time. Yeah. Travel a little bit,|maybe write. So where are you going? India and China|and Baltimore. Oh. You know when|you'll be back? Oh. I got this flyer|the other day. It says, uh, class of '72|is having a reunion in six months. Yeah, I got|one of those too. Why don't you come?|I'll buy ya a drink. The drinks at|those things are free. I know, Gerry.|I was being ironical. - Oh.|- How about a drink right now? Yeah. It's a good idea. Come on.|This one's on me. - I got the winner right here, pal.|- Oh! Yes, sir, this is the one. This is my ticket|to paradise. Do you know what the odds|are against winning the lottery? - What? Four to one?|- About 30 million to one. I still have a shot, you know? Yes, just about as big chance|as you being hit by lightning|here on the staircase right now. It's a possibility too. I mean,|32 million. If you look at the size-- Will! Will? He's not there. # I'll fake it|through the day # Sean, if|the professor calls about that job, just tell him sorry,|I had to go see about a girl. Will. Son of a bitch.|He stole my line. # To take its toll|and in having a lot # # Of nothin' to do # # Do you miss me # # Miss misery # # Like you say you do # # I know you'd rather|see me gone # # Than to see me # # The way # # That I am, when I am # # In the life anyway # # Next door TV's|flashing through # # Frames on the wall # # It's a comedy # # Of errors, you see # # It's about|takin' a fall # # To vanish into # # Oblivion # # It's easy to do # # And I try to be # # But you know me|I come back # # When you want me to # # Do you miss me # # Miss misery # # Like you say you do ## # Gonna find my baby|Gonna hold her tight # # Gonna grab|some afternoon delight # # My motto's always been|When it's right, it's right # # Why wait until the middle|of a cold, dark night # # When everything's a little|clearer in the light of day # # And we know the night is|always gonna be here anyway # # Thinkin' of you|is workin' up an appetite # # Lookin' forward to|a little afternoon delight # # Rubbin' sticks and stones|together make the sparks ignite # # And the thought of rubbin' you|is gettin' so excitin' # # Skyrockets in flight # # Afternoon delight # # Afternoon delight # # Afternoon delight # # Started out this mornin'|feelin' so polite # # I always thought a fish|could not be caught who didn't bite # # But you got some bait a-waitin'|and I think I might # # Like nibblin' a little|afternoon delight # # Skyrockets in flight # # Afternoon delight # # Afternoon delight # # Be waitin' for me, baby|when I come around # # We can make a lot of lovin'|before the sun go down # # Thinkin' of you|is workin' up an appetite # # Lookin' forward to|a little afternoon delight # # Rubbin' sticks and stones|together make the sparks ignite # # And the thought of rubbin' you|is gettin' so excitin' # # Skyrockets in flight # # Afternoon delight # # Afternoon delight # # Aft # # Afternoon delight # # Aft # # Afternoon delight ## |
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