Best Laid Plans Page #3

OK? Now this one.

She's 1 6.

I mean, what 21 -year-old|carries around a fake I.D.

saying she's 1 6?

The girl downstairs|is 1 6!

I mean, it doesn't|matter if she said no.

It doesn't matter|if she screamed yes

and had a notary public|certify it,

she's underage!|It's statutory!

If she presses charges,|I will go to jail!

So I guess a second date's|out of the question then, huh?

Do you see?|Do you see now?

Do you see|how f***ed I am?

Bryce, statutory cases

are very, very hard|to prosecute.

No. The girl is 1 6.|I had sex with her.

Boom. Conviction.|You know what?

And it's not just jail.|It's my job, my career,

my entire education|shot to blistering f***!

Can you imagine explaining|a statutory rape conviction

or even an accusation|to a tenure committee?

Can you?

Bryce, sit down.

You're going to wear tracks|in these people's carpet.

I only wanted|to get laid.

Instead,|I'm getting f***ed!

Nick, I want to let|the girl go.

I'm raring to get her|the hell out of here,

but the only way|I can do that

is if she can guarantee|that she won't tell anyone,

and I don't see|how she can do that.

You won't take|her promise?

She's shown herself to be|a pillar of truthfulness.

And I can't bribe her.|I've got nothing to offer.

And--

Past that, and my thinking|just fails me.

I-- I don't think|I could threaten her.

I could.

What?

I already played|the good cop down there,

so maybe if I go down|and pull a reversal?

Scare the sh*t out of her.

We're f***ed.

You're telling me.

P.A.:
Welcome to Tropico|Recycling Company.

Glass goes...

[Glass Clinking]

Nick!

Sorry, man. I forgot|about your dad's funeral.

Of all days, Barry.

I'm really sorry.

[Cat Screeches]

[Cat Moaning]

Oh, sh*t!

Man:
Is it yours?

Nick:
No.|My neighbor's.

He home?

We OK if I say|she was dead on arrival?

Yeah.

I'm going to|put her down.

Um, excuse me.

The shot costs $30.00.

I'm sorry.

It's the least|I can do.

There you go.

Thanks.

Here's 1 0 back.

Cheap absolution.

I'm sorry.|I'm really running late.

Oh, OK. Go ahead.

I'll just get the info|from her collar.

Thank you.

Sh*t!

Ah, sh*t.

Ever feel like the world's|conspiring against you?

My name's Nick,|by the way.

Mine's Myrtle.

Myrtle.

Really?

[Chuckling]

No.

Thank God.

It's Lissa.

I was just trying to|lower your expectations.

Two Ss?

Yeah. It's short|for Melissa.

When I was learning|to talk,

I used to pronounce|it '' Me Lissa,''

as in '' Me Tarzan,''|so the story goes.

Thanks for the lift.

[Praying]

Let the Lord lift up His|countenance about him

and give him peace.|Amen.

Nick:
I never would|have come back here

after college,|but my father got sick,

so I came home|to take care of him.

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