Ex Drummer Page #2

You can see he's much too clean.

- Come on. Now isn't the right time.

Dries speaking.

- De Geyter here. I forgot something.

What?

The band's only going to perform once.

Just one performance and that's it.

OK. Now I've got you on the phone,

I will join the band.

Really? Great! What about the handicap?

I've got a handicap, quite a

conspicuous one. I can't play the drums.

Oh. OK.

- And I've got a good name for the band.

The Feminists.

- The what? Feminists?

Yes, four handicapped guys

are just as good

as four feminist b*tches? Get it?

Oh. Yes. OK. See you tomorrow.

Say hello to Lio.

OK. See you tomorrow.

Who was that?

- Koen De Geyter.

What a sucker! You say you can't play

the drums and he just believes you.

I can't play the drums.

- You can.

And you can speak perfect French.

Why d'you absolutely want to play

with that f***ing band?

I don't really know. I think

I want to step outside my happy world.

Descend into

the depths of stupidity, ugliness,

obtuseness, unfaithfulness and fake.

Latch onto the life of losers

but without belonging to that world

and in the knowledge

that I can always return

to my own world.

And to you.

Ma?

Ma?

Ma? Have you gone deaf?

Why don't you answer?

Is that the next step?

Are you going deaf?

This is Dries Vanhegen. This is my ma.

Are you the famous author?

I haven't read any of your books.

A lot of people say that.

That's the price of fame.

You haven't got a drink. Want a beer?

- No, thanks.

Are there any beers?

- You know where the fridge is.

Yes. And where your stupid head is.

- I'm going to check Pa.

Go and check him then.

And you know there's no smoking indoors!

- Don't tell me!

Tell him...

- Go and see Pa, you filthy slut!

I've had enough of you!

Don't you want anything to drink?

- No, thanks. What's up with your pa?

Pa's not well. Now and then we have

to check that he hasn't hurt himself.

Hurt himself? Could he hang himself?

With an extension lead or something?

Come outside. I'll show you something.

Have you lived here long?

Of course, you can't compare it

to where you live.

And your pa is upstairs?

We rehearse here.

We can make a row here.

Shall I play something?

- Yes, go on.

This is a bar.

A bar?

- Yes, with all that beer.

Right.

- We play here. Just a minute.

Where did you learn that?

- Dunno. Just tried it.

Just tried it, f***ed around.

How's Pa?

He'd sh*t himself again.

- Again? The filthy old bugger.

I hear you can't play the drums?

- No.

Is there something you can do?

- Yes.

I can see from a long way away

if someone is wearing a wig.

Get out!

- Do something about your fridge, slut!

Take him outside! Outside, I said!

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