Venus Page #3

-I owe you thousands.

Over the years,

you've been more than generous.

-I haven't forgotten.

-No.

Can't the children contribute?

Can't we Iook after ourselves

in our old age?

(EXCLAIMING)

-Sammy's gone.

-He has?

-Yeah.

-Christ.

Big picture of him here

as a handsome young spunker.

-Another one down.

-Yeah.

I wonder how many Iines I'II get?

A paragraph.

Lo, here comes Caesar.

And moving rather rapidly

for someone who's just picked up

his disability check.

Oh, God.

-Hello, Iove.

-Hello, Donald.

Thank Christ she's asleep now.

She's drunk all my best Stoli

and the Scotch!

She even put away the Drambuie

I was saving for your Christmas visit.

God, no?

I bought this Iovely bit

of halibut yesterday,

but she didn't know what to do with it.

Dear Jesus.

Her notion of cooking is to stick a plate

of virtual sick into the microwave.

-Well, can't you call the police?

-That's a very good idea.

Oh, or just kill them, kill the young.

Exterminate their disgusting happiness

and hope.

This is not f***ing funny!

I've got high blood pressure.

I could die at any moment.

-Why doesn't she just go back home?

-I rang my niece. I begged her.

I wept more than Antigone.

I said I'd pay for the taxi

to wherever, you know.

Martha said there is no job

in the countryside.

There must be some demand

for barmaids and prostitutes.

Yeah, I mean, even in the country

they need young women to Iap dance.

-What? What?

-What do you know about that?

You can Iearn a Iot from the television.

Look, the fact is

Martha just doesn't want her back.

But to unleash her on us Iike this,

you know.

-Maliciously.

-MAURICE:
Exactly.

-It's pure evil.

-DONALD:
Of course it is.

-Evil.

-Did your niece do it deliberately?

What? What?

You men are Iaughing at me.

-Let's think about this collectively.

-Yeah, please, please, please.

-Thank you.

-We hate to see you suffer, Ian.

Oh, please, Maurice,

you're fond of women, all women,

and you're resourceful. Help me.

You couldn't have come

to a better man.

A scientist of the female heart.

-A professor of p*ssy.

-That's it.

F***ing shut it, Donald!

You're really getting on my nerves!

"F***ing shut it, Donald!

You're really getting on my nerves!"

-F***ing shut it.

-F***ing shut it!

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

-He's at doctors.

-Good.

What?

MAURICE:
After scouring the earth

on your behalf, Jessie,

I'm here to announce

I've got you a job.

-Liar.

-It's true. Modeling.

-You've done that?

-Yeah. PIeased?

-I said you could rely on me.

-Well, what sort of clothes is it?

Do you think I'II get to keep them

at the end?

-I'm not sure about that.

-Why not?

There's no actual clothes involved.

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