Clerks 2

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(quiet, noble melody playing)

(music fades)

(car approaching)

(keys jingling)

(flames crackling)

(flames crackling)

Yeah, I got a fire

at the Quick Stop.

Yeah.

(steam hissing)

(hissing and crackling)

(debris rattling)

(bell dings)

Terrorists?

I left the coffee pot

on again, didn't I?

Sh*t!

Now where am I gonna

bring chicks to f***

when my mom's home?

(Talking Heads' "Nothing

But Flowers" intro playing)

(horn honks)

# Here we stand #

# Like an Adam and an Eve #

# Waterfalls #

# The Garden of Eden #

# Two fools in love #

# So beautiful... #

So, ready for your big last day?

I am.

When do you and your old lady

head down to Florida?

Tomorrow morning.

Car's all packed up.

You gonna do anything crazy

before you leave

New Jersey forever?

How long have you known me?

If I were you,

I'd spray-paint "eat p*ssy"

across the side of the building

in huge letters.

Why?

Let 'em know

you were there, man.

I'd rather let them know

I'm not an a**hole.

Too late for that.

I'm really gonna miss you, man.

# Hey #

# Once there were parking lots #

# Now it's a peaceful oasis #

# You've got it, you've got it #

# This was a Pizza Hut #

# Now it's all covered

with daisies #

# You've got it, you've got it #

# I miss the honky-tonks,

Dairy Queens and 7-Elevens #

# You've got it, you've got it #

# And as things fell apart #

# Nobody paid much attention #

# You've got it, you've got it #

# Years ago #

# I was an angry young man... #

I can't believe they haven't

done anything with it yet.

The Lord did

something with it.

He smited that hellhole.

Listen to you.

Do you mean to tell me

you don't miss

that place at all?

(scoffs):

God, no.

Do you?

Of course not.

# I wish I had a lawnmower #

# You've got it, you've got it #

##

##

##

# I dream of cherry pies #

# Candy bars

and chocolate chip cookies #

# You've got it, you've got it #

# Don't leave me stranded here #

# I can't get used

to this lifestyle. #

(heavy metal music playing)

(whistles)

# Grandma, what was it like #

# To be on that holiday site? #

Get the f*** out of here!

# Grandma said, "Do come in,

my little friend." #

You know, sometimes I wish

I did a little more with my life

instead of hanging out in front

of places selling weed and sh*t.

Like, maybe be an animal doctor.

Why not me?

I like seals and sh*t.

Or maybe an astronaut.

Yeah.

Like, be the first motherf***er

to see a new galaxy

or find

a new alien life-form...

and f*** it.

And people'd be like,

"There he goes.

Homeboy f***ed a Martian once."

Holy sh*t.

Our first customer

since our triumphant return.

Act cool.

Hold on.

Yeah, you guys holdin'?

Sh*t, everything but coke,

heroin and your cock.

What?

How about a nickel bag, man?

(sing-songy):

Oh, 15 bucks, little man.

Put that sh*t in my hand.

# Nong, nong, nagga-

nagga-nong-nong. #

He likes to sing.

So, uh, I haven't seen

you guys in a while, man.

Where you been all this time?

Me and Silent Bob

finally bought a car,

we're cruising down

to the Boardwalk...

f***ing Middletown cop

pulls us over

for Suspicion of Mischief.

What the f*** does that mean?

We were driving around

with a deployed airbag.

The cops pull us over.

They find two pounds

of Jamaican lambswool.

Prosecutor wants

to put us away for a dime,

but the judge gives us

rehab instead.

Sh*t, rehab?

Yup-yup.

How long were you in?

JAY:

Six months, sir.

We got six months

and two days on the wagon

as a good friend of Bill W.'s.

Check it out.

Just got it two days ago,

before we got out.

Yeah, but if you're holding

all the time,

aren't you gonna be tempted

to get high?

Oh, not with the power

of Christ on my side, sir.

Is that a f***in' Bible?

Hey, hey,

the Holy f***in' Bible, son!

What the f*** kind

of songbird Jesus-freak dealer

did you bring me to?

(laughs):
I like them, man.

They're funny.

They're f***in' stupid.

You should read your Bible,

sirs.

You'll find all types

of weird sh*t in there.

Like, did you know

Jesus was a Jew?

Yeah.

(chuckles)

I need two Egga-Mooby Muffins,

and we're almost out

of hash browns.

Hold on.

Now, Randal!

(chuckling)

What are you writing

over there, anyway,

your memoirs?

I'm battling

this jackass

on his blog's message board.

About what?

On how he's got

too much free time and no life.

So does the guy who's

flaming him on his Web site.

I can't help it.

The guy pisses me off.

It's this f*** in a wheelchair

that's always preying

on everyone's sympathies,

writing these long diatribes

about how he'll never walk again

and how walkers should

appreciate the blessings

of their functioning legs.

That diatribe, as you call it,

sounds like

some poor crippled guy

pouring out his heart

and feelings.

Oh, f*** him, man.

Trying to guilt me

into walking around more

because he's all gimped out?

What kind of mind-f***

is that sh*t?

So I've been getting

into it with him,

throwing it back

in his stupid crippy-boy face

about how I love

to just sit around

and how I'd rather drive to

the end of the block than walk.

The guy's in a wheelchair.

Yeah. That's why

I called him crippy-boy.

Have a good one.

You f***in' freak.

(door buzzer moos)

I'm not even gonna point out

the irony here.

What's the matter with you?

What'd I do now?

There's a crippled guy

who found a way

to reach out to a world

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