The Angriest Man in Brooklyn Page #5

- I love you.

- Okay.

- See you around.

- You're still crazy.

Oh. Hey!

Where are you?

I'm trying to hail a cab.

I'm going to his office.

Look, I pulled the guy's file.

He complains about everything.

He's a complete crackpot,

limited credibility, to say the least.

Now, do you want the big news?

- Yeah.

- I had Gary in Radiology take a look at the scans.

Turns out, this guy's already

got bleeding through the wall.

He actually could drop dead

at any second.

He could also live long enough to...

end your career, destroy your life...

and enjoy a splendid holiday in Tuscany.

Fabulous.

I'm throwing a get-together

for the following people...

Frieda Minkle, she was my first crush.

Mrs. Haberstein, my third grade teacher.

Thomas Friel,

he was my law school mentor.

Bix Field, my oldest friend. I sent

you an e-mail with the complete list.

Yeah, I got it. Twenty-five people?

Is this some sort of post-midlife crisis?

No, it's more like a pre-shiva.

Just tell them it's extremely, extremely

important to meet me at Juniors in...

30 minutes.

- You know that's insane?

- Just-Just get it done.

Write obit.

Get drunk.

Tommy.

Four years at Andover.

Four years at Penn.

Three years at NYU.

$428,000 so you could fox-trot,

so you could mambo?

Yeah, and who taught me to love dancing?

I love bagels! Doesn't mean

you should be a bagel maker!

- So this is funny to you.

- No! And you know it isn't!

What I know is

if I don't do this now, I never will.

I had a thousand of these printed.

Look, "Altmann, Altmann and Altmann."

Not "Altmann, Altmann and Dancing Boy"!

Not "Altmann, Altmann and Twinkle Toes"!

You printed those for Peter.

You didn't print them for me.

I'm not Peter, Dad.

Good luck ruining your life!

Brooklyn Dance Academy, dancing that

anyone can learn. Can you hold please?

Uh... Sh*t.

Brooklyn Dance Academy,

dancing that anyone can learn. Hold please.

Yeah... Goddamn it.

Brooklyn Dance Academy, dancing that

anyone can learn. How can I help you?

- Yes! Is Thomas Altmann there?

- Who may I say is calling?

Henry Altmann.

Tom, uh, Henry Altmann is on the phone.

Sh*t. Sorry.

God. From the kicks.

What's he want?

Probably wants me

to pay him back for law school.

Aren't you curious?

Whatever my father wants,

it can wait till we get back from Paris.

- Tom.

- Take a message!

Again.

In 30 minutes or less.

At Juniors.

No, I don't know.

If you could just pass on the message.

Thank you.

Turn and push.

Over there.

Okay. Hi.

Um, I need to see Henry Altmann.

And you are?

Sharon Gill. Dr. Gill.

Do you have an appointment?

I don't. I'm sorry, it's

an emergency, so...

- Sorry, but he's gone out.

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