The Birdcage Page #2
- R
- Year:
- 1996
- 117 min
- 10,081 Views
He died and left me everything.
Where are the adorable couple
celebrating their anniversary?
Mon congrats, you sweeties.
I may have something
to celebrate myself very soon.
Yes.
You know I hate to brag, but...
# I know this grocery clerk
# Unprepossessing
# Some think the boy's a jerk
Excuse me.
Hello.
What do you think?
You look like Lucy's stunt double.
I'm a combination
of Lucy and Ricky.
And it's terrifying. Get out
the white wine and an ice bucket...
chill two glasses
and take the night off.
Why do you talk to me
like I'm your servant?
Because you're
our faithful houseman. Go!
My father was the shaman
of his tribe. Okay?
My mother was
the high priestess.
Then why the hell did
they move to New Jersey?
I don't know. They were stupid.
They want me to have a career.
Hello? A career? When will you
let me audition for you again?
When you have talent. Take that wig off,
or I'll tell Albert you wore it.
You do that, I'll tell him you're
seeing someone while he's onstage.
I have two words for you:
green card.
Now go! And leave
the front door unlocked.
You're such a beast to everybody.
Come on, Gloria.
You keep getting better looking.
Thank you.
So do you.
Oh, no. Really?
I feel bloated.
- You think I look good?
- You look great.
That's very sweet.
I'm glad you cut your hair.
- Did you eat?
- Yes.
Something to drink?
- Beer, if you have it.
- I do not. Talk about bloat.
White wine.
Swell.
- How long has Albert been on?
- He just went on.
So we're all alone.
As requested.
Since when do you like beer?
I have something to tell you.
But I don't want you to get
how you get.
Oh, God.
I'm getting married.
I didn't want to tell you
over the phone.
It's a girl.
I met her at school.
It's wonderful...
Are you upset?
Let me tell you why.
First, you're only twenty.
Pop, I know, I'm young.
But you've always said I was
a very levelheaded guy. And I am.
I have job offers. I know what I want.
And I have an incredible role model.
- Oh, please.
- It's true.
I'm the only guy I know
who isn't from a broken home.
Stop flattering me.
It's cheap.
Is it all right, Dad?
Does it matter?
Of course it does.
Say it's okay, before Albert arrives
and starts screaming.
I can't.
And I won't.
This is too crazy.
You do this, you're on your own.
Got that, sport?
Don't come back.
Don't ask me for anything.
- I want nothing to do with it.
- Okay.
- If that's how you feel.
- I do.
- Fine. Good-bye, Pop.
- Good-bye, Son.
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