Things to Do in Denver When You're Dead Page #3

- See ya, Jack.|- I'll see ya.

- Oh, m... Oh, my... my lucky f***in' day. What?|- Hey.

- Jimmy the Saint.|- Hello, boys.

- That's a nice suit. Versace?|- No.

- Armani?|- No.

Hugo Boss?

- What's with this?|- Ellie's P. O. said he needed a hobby.

- Fashion is his hobby?|- He tried makin' his own pasta.

Didn't move him.

A three-button ventless.|I like that, Jimmy. Classy.

'Course, uh, you gotta|have the build for it.

- What's up?|- He wants to see you, Jim.

- Aw, come on. What for?|- Hey, what can I tell ya?

He says, "Gus, I wanna|see Jimmy the Saint. "

I said, "Boss, Jimmy the Saint|ain't mixin' it up no more. "

He says, "Gus, I wanna|see Jimmy the Saint. "

Here we are.

The point of me arguing|seemed, uh, specious.

Gus is readin' the dictionary.

Good.

- When does he want to see me?|- Now.

- Now?|- Anon.

You know the dance.

It's been a long time,|huh, Jimmy?

Long time, Jimmy.|You don't come around.

Been busy.|Workin' hard.

Right.

Citizen now.

Legitimate businessman.

I heard|about your endeavor,

some kind of support group thing|for dying fags or something.

- Something.|- I spend all my time with these two f***in' morons...

and my village idiot son.

I miss my wife, Jimmy.

You remember Cynthia?

Beautiful lady. Special.

Thank God she never had|to see me like this.

Look at you.|You got a lady?

- No.|- That's 'cause you're hangin' around...

with the virus breeders,|Jimmy: V. B. s.

You into that yet?|Bitin' the pillow?

- No.|- You will.

It's a liberal thing. One day|you're saving the rain forest,

the next you're chugging cock.

- Am I wrong?|- Talk to me, will ya?

I want peace.

I'm ass-fixed|to this chair. I'm tired.

I'm old.

I sh*t in a bag.|I piss in another.

I got a nurse.

Call the nurse.

Hello, Melanie.|Nod to my friend Jimmy.

- Hello.|- How are you?

Excuse us.

She's a ten.

Jimmy, she's a planet|unto herself.

She can't nurse worth sh*t,|but I keep her on 'cause...

although I can't feel it, I know|I have erections in her presence.

- You understand?|- I understand.

Good. Then you'll understand|when I say this.

Bernard, my son, he's all that's|left of my Cynthia,

and he's crazy|as a shithouse rat.

The other day|they catch him...

in the elementary school|playground...

grabbin' itty-bitty titty.

It was a mess.

And the thing is,|I understand the problem.

Bernard's problem...

Do you remember Meg?

- Yeah.|- Meg was...

Bernard's high-school|sweetheart, you know.

They kept it up|through college.

We thought they was|gonna get hitched.

Until she met|this beat Bruce.

Studying to be|an orthodontist.

She busted up with Bernard and moved|to L. A. with this beat Bruce.

Bernard's never been the same.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes