CBGB

Right now. Right now.

Right now it's time to kick

out the jams, motherfuckers!

- Come on, man. Take

this horrible sh*t off.

What the hell? I'm listening to that.

- When Mom comes home,

she'll make me shut it off.

Well, I'm doing her a favor then.

Dude, you know what? This

is really making me crazy.

-

- Then leave.

What? I just got here.

What are you doing, by the way?

I'm starting a magazine.

Like... Like 19 instead of 16?

Or 21. Or... Oh, no, no, wait.

We should totally go younger... 13.

- Get in on the newbie chicks.

- No.

It's a magazine for f***-up kids.

Like kids who have parties when their

parents are away and destroy the house.

Cool. I can be, like,

the editor or something.

No. I'm the editor and the illustrator.

- Well, what does that leave me?

- You're just a punk.

I am just a punk.

"Punk. "

- That's a great title.

- Yeah. And that was my idea.

- Dude, I thought of that idea.

- What? No, you didn't.

- I just said, "That's a great title. "

- Who gave you the idea for "Punk"?

Who said it was a great title?

Heard of a van that's

loaded with weapons

Packed up and ready to go

Heard of some grave

sites out by the highway

A place where nobody knows

The sound of gunfire

off in the distance

I'm getting used to it now

Lived in a brownstone,

lived in a ghetto

I've lived all over this town

This ain't no party

This ain't no disco

This ain't no fooling around

This ain't no Mudd Club or CBGB

I ain't got time for that now

Heard about Houston?

Heard about Detroit?

I said Chatterbox

I said you squawk a lot

Come on, give me some lip

Yeah, Chatterbox

I call you up

Don't give me no line

I'm comin' in your home

On the chatter line

- Hillel, where are you?

- Hillel!

Kidnapped? Bertha, no

one kidnaps from the poor.

- What?

- Hilly's missing.

Get your truck.

How did he get here?

He must have walked.

Three miles?

- It's two and a half.

- That is not normal.

Hillel Kristal, you currently

reside at 21 East 2nd Street?

And what is your marital

status, Mr. Kristal?

My wife and I are split.

- Separated or divorced?

- Divorced, yeah.

- Children?

- Two.

And this is your second

failed attempt to run a bar.

A club.

Divorced and two bankruptcies.

Perhaps you should try something else.

I'm sick of the parties

I'm sick of the ravers

I'm sick of the dogs

and my noisy neighbors

I'm sick of the subways

and I'm sick of the crowds

I'm sick of hot water

always runnin' out

I'm sick of the crap I

gotta take in this town

If I didn't love it, I swear

I'd burn it to the ground

I'm sick of the tourists

I'm sick of their stares

I'm sick of all the girls

who ain't showin' their wares

I'm sick of the queens

and I'm sick of the whores

I'm sick of bad plumbing

and those backed-up sewers

I'm sick of the crap I

gotta take in this town

I'm sick

If I didn't love it, I swear

I'd burn it to the ground

You know, I'm sick

If I didn't love it, I swear

I'd burn it to the ground

I'm sick of the crap I

gotta take in this town

I'm really sick

If I didn't love it

Do you play?

Used to.

Me too.

Mother required it.

Hilly Kristal.

They call me Idaho.

- Why's that?

- I like potatoes.

Buy you a drink?

All right. All right. Big shot.

The Palace Bar.

I like the irony.

- What'll you have?

- Whiskey.

Brandy and Fresca.

No Fresca.

Soda.

Anyone play music in here?

No.

Nobody would complain about

the noise this far downtown.

They'd complain, but

no one would listen.

Think what a coat of paint could do.

Or a bulldozer.

I wanna buy this bar.

Got any money?

Look around, Hillel. You know

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