Mercy

---

What?

- Johnny-boy.

J-boy.

Psst!

Sweets.

What are you doing, Erik?

- The door was open.

- Is there a girl in here?

- I don't see one.

The bathroom.

- Is anyone in the bathroom?

- She left.

What a good girl.

I love it when they leave.

What's the matter with you?

- I found a condom.

- You know, you do this sh*t

to yourself, Erik.

- What do you mean?

How do I do this sh*t?

- What the hell are you doing

driving all the way out there?

- It's like she wanted me

to see it, Johnny.

- Well, maybe she did.

So what the hell

are you doing?

- I couldn't get in touch

with her.

- So you drive 400 miles

at 2:
00 in the morning?

- Yeah.

I wasn't gonna be able to sleep.

- You should have been here

with us, okay?

You know how many

beautiful women were here?

It was like a bad Fellini movie.

And what are you doing?

You're doing 100 miles an hour

on the 101 like a stalker

with some emo record on repeat

for, like, five hours.

Meanwhile, the girl broke up

with you six weeks ago.

- But we've been talking.

- Stop.

No.

You've been talking.

She's been hanging up the phone.

Okay?

- I'm going home.

- No, you're not going home.

You're gonna listen to me,

all right?

I love you, clearly more

than Jessica does.

- Jesus Christ.

- What do you want?

You want the stuff?

Here's the stuff.

No pulling punches.

I love you.

Stop with this girl.

This is what happens.

Inevitably, this is

what happens, bottom line.

Example:
You drive

a million miles

at 2:
00 in the morning,

and what do you get?

You get true love?

F***, no.

You get a used condom

laying in the middle

of the f***ing living room.

Come on.

- Why do you

have to be so brutal?

- Then don't ask me, okay?

You know that

the Federal Reserve on Wednesday

cut a key interest rate

by a quarter of a percentage

point to 2%?

- Yeah, tune in Berlin, okay?

I need some help here, man.

- Why do you even ask me?

Seriously.

- You write books about love.

- Hmm.

- You're such a contradiction.

- Don't psychoanalyze me.

Okay?

This is about you.

You are the topic.

And I write about love

as I see it,

a fantasy, a fable.

It's called fiction

for a reason.

It doesn't really exist.

Thank you, love.

- You're welcome, Mr. Ryan.

- You are unbelievable.

- Yeah, you're unbelievable.

Pick up that glass.

- What?

- Pick up that glass.

What?

- Toast.

Tonight we celebrate:

My book and the next chapter

of your life.

- Oh.

- The happy and single period.

- To Johnny-boy.

Yay, Johnny-boy.

If you don't mind,

I'd like to say a few words.

My name is Dane Harrington,

for those of you

who may not know me.

- Speech, Dane!

- Absolutely.

I'd just like

to invite my friend up.

If you'd be so kind,

Mr. Ryan.

Please?

Come here.

Ladies and gentlemen,

The kid.

- Get on with it already.

- Okay.

So there we were.

It was, like, 15 years ago.

It's two high school dropouts,

nowhere to go,

nothing to do,

countless arrests,

many institutions,

in and out of juvenile hall,

and soon to graduate.

And then one day,

everything changed.

Just stopped.

No more.

"I'm gonna be a writer,"

he says.

"No more fights.

No more drugs and alcohol.

I'm gonna write."

"What are you gonna

write about?" I say.

"Women."

And off he went.

Research.

Here we are,

ten years later,

book number three.

He works fast.

It's not so bad.

My man, my best friend,

Johnny-boy Ryan.

Proud of you.

This is my best friend!

Give it up!

Come on!

Oh!

- Johnny, Johnny.

Have you met the lovely,

amazing, beautiful, sexy

Kelly Lynch?

- I have not,

but it is a great pleasure.

- Your book is magnificent.

Really.

I think it's your best yet.

It's a best-seller for sure.

- Well, let's just hope

the reviewers feel the same way.

- They will.

- What do they know, anyway?

- That being said, I don't care

what they say either.

Yes, you do.

- Don't be such an agent.

You make me sick.

- Kelly.

- He's made me sick.

I have to go now.

- This is what

I have to deal with.

- Will I see you later?

- Honey, not in front

of the kid.

- I had a lovely evening.

Thank you very much.

- Pleasure to meet you.

- You too.

- Mm.

- You hitting that?

- I might be.

- You son of a b*tch.

I've been wanting to crush that

since the eighth grade.

- Well, jeez, why didn't you

say something?

Three's company.

- Oh, that's cute.

I just threw up in my mouth

a little bit.

- Listen,

I better catch up,

make sure the husband's

not in town this weekend.

- Hey, careful.

- Reviews come out Tuesday.

Lunch and celebrate?

- I'll call you tomorrow.

- Love you.

Hold that for me.

- Okay.

- I love the book.

- Enjoy.

Easy on the sauce, both of you,

all right?

- Hey!

- Johnny!

Whoa.

How does it feel

to be the man?

- Balt.

- Face looks a little round.

You put on some weight?

How are you?

- Good.

How are you?

Look, can I be honest with you?

- Please.

- Everybody here

is kissing your ass.

It's sh*t.

You're sh*t.

The book is sh*t.

I'm sh*t.

It's all f***ing sh*t.

- All right.

It's good to see you.

- Yeah, you too.

- Always good.

- Hey, good game, man.

- Oh.

All right.

Motherf***er.

- Please.

- We have a red wine

and a cosmopolitan.

- She'll have a cosmo.

- Excuse me.

Sorry.

But do you mind if I borrow

the lady for a second?

- Borrow me?

What?

Am I a lighter?

- Stop it.

- Do you need a drink?

- You know I don't drink.

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