Gerry Page #2

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Hey, a deal is a deal.

If you don't send Dad $20 a month,

that B-3 will be out of here.

Listen to this.

Hey, man!

Isn't that fantastic?

This place is hopping.

Willie, $5 for gas.

$5... beer for the crew.

The beer wasn't included?

Willie, don't even try.

Johnny, you owe me a small fortune.

- You drank all week long!

- I paid for lunch yesterday.

Lunch yesterday was to make up

for the night before.

- How much did you drink tonight?

- Six beers.

- Eight!

- Eight.

- I drank six beers.

- Eight!

Johnny...

Seven?

- Lou! How are ya?

- Good show.

- Thanks.

- This is Pierre Harel.

- Yeah, we've met.

- Hey, man.

Still need a band for your movies?

After what I heard tonight,

I'm done looking.

Do you pay more than this gig?

We'll finish this up later.

Lou, we gotta talk.

Right, about the bar...

Hello. The name's Harel.

Denis.

You keep a solid beat.

You'd give the Stones' drummer

a run for his money.

I'm not sure many people

would agree with you on that.

I hope you realize that nobody else

in Quebec sounds like you guys.

If we were in the States,

we'd be a lot bigger.

I think you could go far,

with some decent lyrics.

What do you mean by that?

I'm a writer. Poetry, songs...

Whoa...

This guy's serious.

I'm paying. They're on me.

So...

if I understand correctly, Harel,

if we do the music for your flick,

we have to sing your songs.

That's not how I see it.

Well then...

if we don't play your tunes...

can we still do the music?

Let him have his say, Gerry.

Can we do the music for your flick?

You don't get it...

You guys are almost as good

as the Stones.

Almost.

Sorry, guys.

My mistake.

You are the Rolling Stones of Quebec.

Now you're talking!

To Offenbach!

Pop Opera!

Party's at Lou's place!

Yeah!

Watch out!

Willie can't hold his liquor!

Johnny! You wanna drive?

Yeah, give me those.

Forget it. You're too wasted.

Johnny's too smashed!

Johnny's too smashed!

Enough!

Quiet down!

You're gonna wake up

the whole neighbourhood!

We're gonna wake up the dead,

big brother!

With poetry!

Yes, sir!

Poetry!

You coming home for supper?

I can't. I've got rehearsals.

I gotta stay in town tonight.

I never see you anymore, Grald.

You're never here.

You're always downtown at your commune.

It's not a commune, Denise.

It's a rehearsal studio.

Music's gotta be played.

Can't your music wait for just a while?

Christ, you know I love you, Denise.

Stop it, dammit.

My brother's on his way here.

F***ing hell.

Jesus...

Quit it.

He'll be up here any minute!

Try to make it back

before the week's out.

Hey, big brother! Looking good!

- She's one hell of a car.

- Couldn't resist, huh?

Four-cylinder 400.

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