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Where have you been keeping that gorgeous face of yours? |
In a deep freeze. |
I almost reported you to the Bureau of Missing Persons. Fans, you all know Joe Gillis, the wellknown screen writer, opium smuggler and Black Dahlia suspect. |
Give me your coat. |
Let it ride for a while. |
You're going to stay, aren't you? |
That was the general idea. |
Come on. |
Judas E. Priest, who did you borrow that from? Adolphe Menjou? |
Close, but no cigar. |
Say, you're not really smuggling opium these days, are you? |
Where's the bar? |
Good party. |
The greatest. They call me the Elsa Maxwell of the assistant directors. Hey, easy on the punch bowl. Budget only calls for three drinks per extra. Fake the rest. |
Listen, Artie, can I stick around here for a while? |
Sure, this'll go on all night. |
I mean, could you put me up for a couple of weeks? |
It just so happens we have a vacancy on the couch. |
I'll take it. |
I'll have the bellhop take care of your luggage. |
Wait a minute. This is the woman I love. What's going on? Who was loaded? |
Don't worry. She's just a fan for my literary output. |
Walking out on the mob. What's the big idea? |
I'm sorry about New Year's. Would you believe me if I said I had to be with a sick friend? |
Someone in the formal set, no doubt, with a tencarat kidney stone. |
The accent! I've got it: this guy is in the pay of a foreign government. Get those studs. Get those cufflinks. |
I've got to run along. Thanks any way for your interest in my career. |
I hate to think where that puts me. I could be her father. |
I'm terribly sorry, Mr. de Mille. |
It must be about that appalling script of hers. What can I say to her? What can I say? |
I can tell her you're all tied up in the projection room. I can give her the brush ... |
Listen, thirty million fans have given her the brush. Isn't that enough? |
I didn't mean to |
Of course you didn't. You didn't know Norma Desmond as a plucky little girl of seventeen, with more courage and wit and heart than ever came together in one youngster. |
I hear she was a terror to work with. |
She got to be. A dozen press agents working overtime can do terrible things to the human spirit. Hold everything. |
We're ready with the shot, Mr. deMille. |
You'll pardon me, Norma? Why don't you just sit and watch? O.K. Here we go. |
Roll 'em. |
Action! The scene starts. |
Diane, it says here you're going to have mood swings, uncontrollable gas. |
More proof God's a guy... |
...and sex dreams where you actually have an orgasm! |
Virgin Mary musta snuck that one in. |
I mean it. I'm in. This is the closest thing to a goddamn family that I've ever had. If one of us needs something, we all do. |
Stop it! This is crazy! |
What the hell do you want? |
I want to help. I'm part of this squad... |
Grandma and Grandpa sent you pictures of a neighbor girl. They didn't want you to break out and come kidnap me. |
Thank Gd. I was starting to think I'd killed the wrong man. |
You shouldn't smoke so many of those. |
I know, but it keeps down the size of my can. |
They could kill you. |
So could half the women in here. And I'd rather go out with a nice can... So watcha here for? To say how much you hate me or how much your grandparents hate me... |
I don't hate you. I need your help. |
My what? |
Your help. |
Now how the hell can I help you? |
Okay, you can't tell anybody. |
Gee, I'll sit out this afternoon's coffee talk. Whaddya want? |
My best friend got pregnant. |
Before you? Whoohoo! |
I know that's what I said too. Anyway, we want to help her get some money for the baby by robbing a bank. |
Well, shitfire, Kansas, that's the sweetest goddamn thing ever... |
I know, but we can't quite figure out how to, y'know, do it. |
So you need my help? Oh my Gd, this is like asking me for help with your homework. Hey, Mink, c'mere! |
Kansas, I want you to meet someone special. |
Oh, Jesus Christ, Mom! Like my life ain't a great big pileofshit 'cause you're in here? Now I have to add, "P.S. My mom's a dyke" too? |
What?! Hush up, you mouthy little shit! |
Hey, don't "mouthy shit" me I'm outta here. |
Wait, Petunia. Mommy's a little amped up didn't get her yard time this morning. Mink ain't my bitch. She's a specialist... in banks. |
Hannah, in order to get real answers from the netherworld, you've gotta have a Christian virgin run the board. Your kind is pure of heart the devil won't dick with you. |
Well technically, I don't think I'm a virgin anymore. |
Yeah. This summer at church camp? I'm pretty sure I had, y'know, an orgasm. |
Hold up, hold up. Any sentence that starts with "at church camp" ain't leading to the big "O." |
Oh my Gd! I'm not first! |
But you're not married. |
...so, while it's a laugh riot for the whole family, and Tim Conway is just about as funny as they come, especially when he goes... |
Wait a minute. You watched the Apple fuckingDumpling Gang?! |
I'm only allowed "G" movies. |
Am I the only one who cares about this? At least I watched "Dog Day Afternoon!" |
You sure you wanna go there? |
Uh...maybe? |
'Cause I will Jerry Springer you faster than you can say "Fatassed lesbian!" |
Don't make me Jerry Lewis you guys for the rest. |
Hey, I even took my parents' foster kid money. Phillipe's gonna have to gather rice without pants this month. |
All of you! |
Bank branch! |
Bank branch! |
All of you! |
Really... |
Yeah. "Itchy" sent us. |
She did, did she? How is the old girl? |
Definitely old. |
That's Itchy, alright. How many y'need? |
Oh please, we've all got bright futures ahead of us we're not going to tell anyone. Promise! |
Maybe we can make a deal. |
Screw Lucy! |
Kansas? |
Is that you down there? |
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