The Trouble with Bliss Page #3

- Comes in a bottle. It's all chopped up.

- Salsa.

Yeah, right. Salsa.

You eat salsa?

Not often...

But, yeah, I eat it.

Oh. Well, great.

You want to make 125 bucks?

Mmm... what do I have to do?

Nothing!

Oh, well, next to nothing.

I need you for a focus

group for a new salsa.

You just have to look at some

print ads and make some comments.

Sure, yeah, I could do that.

Right, right.

Um...

Troy, right?

Morris.

Uh, Morris Bliss.

Bliss.

Right.

... With wings and feathers,

birds can travel almost

anywhere they want.

What drives them to migrate?

Survival.

What guides their path?

Instinct.

Without their instincts,

they would be lost,

blown off course,

but, fortunately,

their instincts

are strong and...

Mmmm.

Yep?

We need to talk.

Stephanie?

I'm outside.

Geez. What, do you

sleep in your clothes?

Yep. I do.

What's up?

Don't worry, I'm not pregnant.

I realize things.

Now that I'm 18,

I realize things.

I realize that...

I like you a lot.

I really like this Morris and

Stephanie thing that we have,

but I realize that this,

our you-and-me,

is not gonna work out.

I have plans, you know?

You just aren't part of 'em.

I'm not a part of your plans?

Nope.

What kind of plans

are you talking about?

Owning my own Subway

sandwich shop, for one.

Be... be serious.

I am being serious.

This boy in my class,

Flabby Robbie,

his dad owns a Subway

on 23rd and 7th Avenue,

and it makes a ton of money.

He actually gets them delivered

to school for lunch.

That's how he makes

friends... free sandwiches.

That's the only reason, actually,

why people like Robbie.

He's kind of sickening.

His hands are always sticky

like he just sneezed

in them, or worse.

Oh, Christ!

What? A rat!

Is that a rat? Oh, my God!

I think that's a rat!

- Where?

- Kill it, kill it, kill it!

Stephanie, get off me!

Oh, my God!

It ran down that way.

I saw it run.

Oh, God.

I hate rats.

Worse than horny cousins,

you know...

- The way you've got to fight 'em off.

- Right.

We had this rat once in

our apartment building.

Used to hang out

in front of the door.

Used to look through the peephole

to make sure I wasn't watching.

It was like he smelled the frozen

pizzas that my dad was cooking up.

The super wouldn't do

anything about it,

so my dad, he had to put

out those sticky traps,

and then the other ones,

you know,

the kinds that snap.

But rats are smart. This one was

smart, because nothing worked.

So, one day, the rat

is scratching at the door.

My dad got so angry

that he grabbed a mop

and he went and he

killed it himself.

He killed it with a mop?

Well, he tried to.

He was naked

except for his underwear,

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