Clerks II

(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?

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.

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