The United States of Leland Page #2

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No, no.

I mean, a famous actor.

I know your face.

I was in Stanley Kubrick's musical,

the one about the alcoholic pirates.

I played Captain Morgan.

Whenever you're done

with the front page, dear.

How about hooking us up with a

table right by the kitchen, dog?

What you in for, dog?

Hey, I'm not asking you cos I'm gonna kick

your ass if you did some f***ed-up sh*t,

cos I already know you

did some f***ed-up sh*t.

Hey, a guy like me,

you know he's an SH cos he ratted

out some b*tch from State Street.

Now half the pop wants to stick

a f***ing pencil to his eye.

Hey, but white boys ain't about

that gang sh*t though, huh?

Especially not white boys like you

who don't look like no Slim Shady.

White boys like you the ones

who did some f***ed-up sh*t, huh?

That's cool, dog.

OK, everybody,

take your seats, please.

You'll have to forgive Mr Madison today.

He's moving kinda slow.

His head's beating like it's

the end of the world.

You been drinking that cheap

ass burgundy again, ain't you?

Hey, three bucks, two litres.

I couldn't pass it up.

You, sir, are new to my class.

- What's your name?

- Fitzgerald. Leland P. Fitzgerald.

Well, Mr Leland P. Fitzgerald,

my name is Pearl Madison.

And I'm gonna be your history teacher,

your science teacher, your math teacher,

your anything else

teacher all rolled into one

for however many days, weeks,

months you'll be here with us.

Hey, Pearly,

when are you bringing

your dancer up here, dog?

As soon as the lovely

Miranda returns from LA,

- I'm sure she would be delighted

to meet you hoodlums. - Liar.

Hey, Mrs Pollard.

- Have you been up all night?

- Yes, I suppose I have.

Need a light there?

I... don't feel so bad.

I thought you quit, too.

How could he have been

that much to someone?

How could he mean enough

for that boy to hurt him?

He was barely there.

Mrs Pollard, I really

don't know what to say.

Um...

But I just want you to know...

that if there's anything

that I can do, just tell me.

It's all right, sweetheart.

And as you look out over Venice today,

you see the city...

- Hey. - Hey, in Venice,

there's no streets, right?

There's just rivers and sh*t?

Er, canals and sh*t, yeah.

They don't even allow

cars on the island.

- You can hear footsteps.

- What's that?

Since they don't allow cars,

when you're walking around,

all you can hear is footsteps.

Hey, Pearly,

help me out here, bro.

I'm developing this theory, right,

that the suicide rate of Venice is real low.

Cos if you jump off a building,

all your ass is gonna do is splash

in a canal and sh*t, right?

OK, well, why don't we expand

on that theory tomorrow?

Class dismissed, you guys. Go ahead

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