Nine 1\2 Weeks

Synopsis:
Year:
1986
30 Views


Hey, sweetheart, how about

I dry you off?

Hey, babe!

Okay, don't hit me.

This is a message from Sinclair.

He's coming to your party.

That's great. So, what do we have now?

A critic, two clients, three painters.

Should be three more clients

and Molly in the back room.

You should know how to do business.

Give me a break here.

I'm calling out for coffee.

Who wants what?

I want a chocolate croissant,

Sweet 'N Low and a coffee light.

Okay. You, Liz?

Hot tea with milk.

Hey, boss-man!

I'll have a hot water with lemon

and Sweet 'N Low.

Don't let them charge for it.

Slimming down, tubs?

I don't fast to lose weight.

I fast to save money.

No sales, we'll both be in the back.

-Did you get the dip?

-Yeah, wine cheddar.

What do we have now?

Olives, crackers, pt, what else?

French ticklers, Spanish fly,

margarine.

-This guy's shy. You can't do that.

-All right, so all right.

-Bye.

-So, what's his name, Michael?

Sorry, love. Why?

Oh, my God.

Sinclair, he's a vegetarian.

String beans, romaine lettuce,

asparagus, carrots. . . .

Hey, all right, okay.

More, free. Free, free, free.

No charge.

Okay, goodbye.

Hello.

-Imagine one caught in your throat.

-Can you imagine the songs they sing?

-Oh, such a romantic.

-Can I help you, ladies?

-Half a dozen birds.

-You clean me out.

What are you gonna do with them?

What do you think we're gonna do?

Eat them?

No, we plan to give them

a proper burial.

That's very funny. Seriously.

Very funny.

Maybe we'll raise them as pets

and then fly them from the rooftops.

-Would you wrap them up?

-Yes, ma'am.

-Wrap them up.

-Yes, ma'am.

-Wrap them up. Let's go.

-Okay.

Let's see. What else?

Fortune cookies. About eight, no, 1 2.

Just wrap them with the rest.

Cab!

Stop, I'm pregnant!

Cab!

Coming at 8, huh?

Yeah, 8.

Listen, why don 't you get

comfortable and I'll get it?

Okay, come on, schmuck,

take your shirt off.

Come on, I haven't got all night.

You won't talk me into giving

a dinner party again.

It shows you're opening up.

I'm fine.

Soon you'll be putting

an ad in the personals columns.

"Beaut--" No.

"Divorced White Female.

Beautiful statuesque blonde.

Witty, cultured, owns own vibrator. "

Oh, Lizzy. . . .

I know you don't have one.

Not vous,

You are the grossest,

most perverted. . .

-. . .oversexed, disgusting--

-Oh, my God!

Oh, baby!

Oh, Michael, yes!

He's eating Volkswagens.

I said to his agent, "How am I

supposed to review a piece like that?"

-How about a Volkswagen-tasting party?

-More wine?

Michael?

Anyone can do this

with his or her nose.

No, wait, wait. She did it!

Have you guys heard of this artist?

He's new. This is serious.

Come on, please, everyone,

let her tell the story.

Elizabeth does not lie.

She's blushing.

There's nudity and violence

in this, mark my word.

-Tell it, tell it.

-Come on.

A guy, he's an artist.

-He's done a series of portraits.

-What kind of portrait?

No, rectal portraits.

I know him.

He pulls down his pants,

puts the brush up his bum. . .

. . .and then paints portraits in a sort

of jack-knifed position.

It's the most amazing thing.

That's sort of the way you

write your reviews, isn't it?

Charming. Charming. Very charming.

To swimming with bowlegged women.

-It's beautiful.

-It is a beautiful shawl.

It's an old French shawl.

-How much?

-Three hundred dollars.

Is it really that much?

It's rock bottom.

Three hundred dollars.

Three hundred's a good price.

Thank you.

What's that?

It has babies!

-How much is it?

-For you, 40 big ones.

How about 30?

Thirty-five.

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