All language subtitles for Igby Goes Down ENG

Why couldn't she have been
a fucking smoker?

This has nothing to do with
her being in such wonderful shape.

The cause of our trouble was our
inability to come up with a drug...

short of paint thinner, that would be
at least somewhat novel to her system.

She's built up a tolerance to everything.

A tolerance?
She's taking her fucking afternoon nap.

Shut up, Igby!

We're fine.

It's all the fucking tennis.

It's almost 6:00.

Igby.

They'll do it. I don't know what it is,
but I know they'll do it.

Let's all drink to Bay State...
- Let's drink to Julia. Have you met her yet?

If she's anything like her sister...

We'll drink to Johnny and Julia and Bay
State Power and love and happiness and...

Here you are.

For the love of Pete,
it's the Witch and Dopey.

I've never been up here before.
It's awfully quaint, isn't it?

We like it.

Dad, when are you going back to work?

Soon.

You're not really sick anymore.
- No.

Not really sick.

But not completely well.
Not yet, I don't think.

When will you be better?
- In the spring.

The spring?
- I'm no good in the winter.

These gray days...

they're so sad.

What about next winter?

Jason, tell me, dearest,
are you planning on bathing this week?

I beg your pardon?

It seems to have slipped
your mind last week.

But I'm not dirty.
- No...

dirty, I mean, you've done nothing that'd
make you dirty for quite some time now.

But you do reek, darling,
of tobacco, from your...

yellow toenails to your yellow fingernails
to your yellow teeth...

to your yellow hair.

Sorry to have offended.

Me?

A piece of gristle.

Not on an empty stomach, dear.

Excuse me.

Boys, your mother was quite right
to have chastised me.

Good personal hygiene...

is one of the most essential disciplines
a man can have...

in this world.

Chin-chin!

Don't indulge him anymore.

How can anyone be afraid of a clown?

Just leave him.

C'mon, old man.
This is no way to be on your birthday.

Everybody's gone home.

There's nobody left downstairs.
It's just you and me, now.

Hey.

It's just you and me, old man.

If Heaven is such a wonderful place...

then how was getting crucified
such a big fucking sacrifice?

Mrs. Slocumb,
it's wonderful to see you again.

I hope you drove.

No more beautiful place on God's earth...

than Connecticut at Christmas time.

Oliver drove me down from the city.
- Please.

Congratulations on Oliver.

I hear he's already established himself...

as the cream of
the Columbia freshman crop.

We do take a lot of pride
in seeing our boys succeed.

But of course, we're here to discuss...

Igby.

Honor roll? You flunked everything.
Not even a 'D' in art this time.

Did you enjoy making me look like a fool?
- I dunno.

You don't know?

Poor Mrs. Slocumb doesn't have a clue
what old Igby is up to.

Dithering, foolish lady. Did you enjoy that?
- I dunno.

I beg your pardon?
- No!

Then what are you? A pathological liar?

I don't know.

You don't know? Liar! You little liar!

How dare you! And where were you when
your brother was flunking out of school?

I was in college.

Igby is not my fault.

Did you even, for a second...

think about how this reflects upon me?

No.

I am not going to go through this again.
You had a chance. You flunked everything.

That's almost impressive. It really is.

You know what's going to
happen to you now, mister?

Do you know where your sterling
performance is going to take you now...

little man?

Choate?

Cadet report!
- Oh, shit!

Second watch is early.

Lights out!

In your bunks!

You heard him. Let's go!

All right, Mr. Patterson, lights out!

What part of "lights out"
don't you understand?

Turtle! The spray!
- In your bunk, Mistletoe!

All right, Fredrick, you know the rules.

Turtle!

Both of you, lights out! In your bunks!

This is your godfather, Igby.
Are you listening to me?

This is the best thing that could have
happened to you, military school.

To get out of that comfortable world
you were raised in. Strike out on your own.

You know those East Coast country club
schools do you no good in the real world.

It might be tough now,
but it's gonna make you tough.

Unlike the rest
of your coddled contemporaries.

Fire!

And Igby goes down.

I bet you've made some real buddies.

Haven't you?

Igby has buddies.

Haven't you got buddies?
- Many.

You have that buddy
with the cute little name.

That little buddy, Tortoise.
- Turtle.

Turtle?

Turtle.

He was my best buddy.

Then his rifle backfired
and blew his face off.

We all learned a lesson
about weapon maintenance that day.

Why didn't the school inform me?

It wasn't the school's fault.

They were great about it.

Paid for the dry-cleaning and everything.

Not because they had to...

but because it was the right thing to do.

I believe that certain people in life
are meant to fall by the wayside...

to serve as warnings for the rest of us.
Signposts along the way.

To where?

Success.

Our father would be a "slippery when
schizophrenic" sign, for instance.

Along the highway of life.

This summer...

I want you to come and work for me.

Work with my crew.
Renovate some of my New York properties.

You up to bein' exploited
by your old pal this summer?

What do you say?
- Stay at your Hamptons summer house?

On the weekends.
- I'm your man, sir.

Good!

When are you headed back to the academy?
- 0700 tomorrow morning, sir.

Sorry.

"This letter is to inform you,
the recipient, that my son...

"...the bearer of this letter...

"...has permission to use my credit card..."
- You can take your break now, Kevin.

Thank you.

May I help you, son?
- I need a room.

And you have a reservation?

I assume my mother made one.
- Under her name?

This is your mother?
- Yep.

No reservation under that name.

That is so typical.

In town looking at schools, are you?
- Colleges.

She had to fly home. I have a brother,
a teenager. Bit of a problem.

Every family has one.

What colleges are you lookin' at, son?

All of 'em, really.

Just so long as it's here.
Here in the Midwest.

I hear ya.

Hello, is Georgie there? He isn't?

This is Mr. Slocumb,
Georgie's favorite teacher from the academy.

Who are you?

Really? I didn't know Georgie had a sister.

I'm in town for a little while...

at the O'Hare Hilton.

Listen, what are you up to?

But I'm an incredibly cool
and young teacher.

Why? How old are you?

Really?

You sound older than 11.

You're right. It's probably the cigarettes.

Hello?

Mimi Slocumb, please.

This is she.

I'm calling from the O'Hare Hilton.

Hi.

You can stand at attention there, Slocumb.

What exactly
do you think you're doing here?

The Ritz-Carlton was full.

You know I'm very tense these days,
very anxious about all of Igby's trouble.

My son in drug camp, for God's sake,
and then you make me so very cross.

And I take the trouble to tell you
specifically what I require...

a half a grapefruit and...
- Mimi.

Let's...

Let's get off the maid.

Help!

Super Cadet
has got this big smile on his face.

No one takes him seriously.

No one knows
that he's been expelled that morning.

They scream...

"jump," and surprise...

he does a swan dive onto the pavement.

You can still see the stain in the pavement
where his head popped open.

Every morning, I used that blotch to know
where to line up for breakfast formation.

Do you contemplate suicide?

Constantly.

You totally missed the point of my story.

Have I?
- Completely.

It's about the hypocrisy of the place,
which I couldn't tolerate.

You let me do my job, and you do yours.

I'm trying to fucking help you.

You think I need help?
- Apparently.

You think that I don't know
how to do my job?

No offense, but how good could you be,
working at this place?

You know, I can only be as effective
as you allow me to be.

Just tried to help you with my story.

How did you feel about what the boy did?

I feel like he should've really reconsidered
his fucking options, don't you?

What are your options?
- I don't know yet.

Who were you trying to hurt with the pills?

Nobody. I was improvising as I went.
I actually didn't give it a lot of thought.

I think that you are much more aware
than even you realize.

Yeah? Well, you're an idiot, so...

What the fuck are you doing?

I don't like being called an idiot.

You prick! You can't fucking hit me!

Next fall, you'll be starting
at yet another school.

Are you gonna try to make an effort
this time around?

I'm considering my options.

Am I to understand you have four separate
doctors, all writing you prescriptions?

It's a point of convenience.

With no knowledge
of what the others are prescribing!

My dear man, I assure you,
I need my peppies.

Perhaps if you cut down on the Valium
and the sleeping pills...

you'd have more energy.
- Without them I get very tense.

You get tense
because you pop speed like candy.

Bad Mrs. Slocumb.
- I beg your pardon.

Patients actually tolerate
this cheeky-little-shit routine of yours?

Find it cute, do they?

Mrs. Slocumb...
- Out!

I'm not well.
- You mean literally?

Yes, literally. They've run tests.

This doesn't seem so bad.

As nice a place as any to spend the spring.
Round out your rough edges.

This'll do for ya.

I still want you
to come and work for me this summer.

Stay with Bunny and me
at the summer house. What do you think?

Now, listen, the reason that Mimi...

your mother, hasn't been able to...

visit you... I'm sure she wanted to.
She went to the...

hospital for a bit of a rest,
and they discovered something else.

Something rather bad.

She's getting treatment for it. Everybody's
damn confident she'll be fine, but...

You know what mastectomy is?

Your house...

It's on the beach, right?

Contract.

It's a contract. See,
families should be run like companies...

with everybody's responsibilities
clearly defined.

Children, at the age of reason...

should be provided with legal
representation and a contract drawn up.

All the best relationships
are based on contracts.

Bunny and I have a contract.

Now that you're gonna come
and work for me...

we're gonna have one.

And that piece of paper is your clean slate.

You know, you could just
take a later shuttle back to DC.

I'm past the worst of it, I think.

I'm meeting that dean
from St. Anthony's, McKaye...

in the morning,
to beg him to admit your brother this fall.

A mother's work is never done.

D.H. is collecting Igby today?
- Yeah.

He's picking him up from "the camp."

What a great investment
that has proven to be.

Getting to hear, for two months,
on a weekly basis...

just how much my son hates me.

That's always been
one of his favorite topics of conversation.

His creation was an act of animosity.
Why shouldn't his life be one?

Listen, Ollie, this summer, Igby's going to
bunk with you at Columbia during the week.

You both can go to the Hamptons
on the weekends.

Of course.

I'll baby-sit Igby all summer long.

You know, you have been
a very bad older brother.

And yet you're the one he hates.

Basically, it's like reverse Darwinism.

A situation in which
a less evolved species...

is better equipped to survive
than a more evolved creature.

Which, if you think about it,
isn't really reverse Darwinism, so much as...

bigger-picture Darwinism, if you will.

What?

Tommy?
- Yeah.

What's happening?
Did you hear that? We were out there for...

What are you doing?
- Nothing.

Did you hear the locks? It needs oil...

or something.
- I'll fix that.

Look at this guy. Look at this strapping
young working hunk of manhood.

That's my godson, Igby.

Ever hear that name, "Igby"?

It's funny. You met his brother
at the office the other day.

How you doin'?

Good.

How you doin'?

You're doin' "well."

How's the work comin' along there, stud?

Well?
- Do we need this wall?

Three thousand square feet over!

You got the new plumbing.
What do you call, risers, so we have very...

We've got 27 windows.

What are you doing, you little reptile?

Look at this.

Hi, honey!

It's not that cold out here.

No.

Who are you?

Sookie.

Sookie?
- Sookie Sapperstein.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Are you somebody's daughter?

I'm somebody's daughter.

I mean somebody here at this party.

No.

Then why are you here?

I'm with the catering company.

The woman hired us for the party.

Why do you think I'm dressed
like a figure skater?

Bunny hired you.

She's my godmother.

Actually, she's not.
Her husband, D.H. Banes...

he's my godfather.

Are those cloves?

Outstanding! Can I bum one?

No.

Got a light?

And a cigarette?

Rachel, I see you've met the boys.

We've already met.

Bunny, Rachel is the choreographer
I was telling you about...

who's renting that commercial space
from us down in SoHo, using it as a studio.

Remember?
- How wonderful.

Boys...

It's so wonderful you could come and stay.

Igby, I could just eat you with a spoon.
- Don't.

Now, when did you get out of camp?
- Two months ago.

I've been working for D.H. all summer.
That's why I'm here every weekend.

My wife is the philanthropist of the family.

Especially fond of dance, aren't you dear?

D.H., look. Pull around.

Here we go.

We have guests behind us.
- The guests. I see.

Are you two in school or something?

I'm at Columbia,
and as far as this year's challenge for Igby...

we're still waiting to hear back
from this fun parochial school in DC.

"Perchance to dream."
- He's done the Protestant circuit.

Mom must have some photos of the
head priest with an altar boy for them...

to even be considering Igby.

We're all at a bit of a loss as to...
- Whenever I'm at a loss, I dip into Rilke.

Rilke? That tortures me.

Every Christmas, some asshole
gives me this copy of Young Poet...

with this patronizing note on the flap
about how it's supposed to change my life.

Maybe you should read it before judging it.
- I'm pretty confident.

After all, one of the copies was from you.

I'm Oliver, and this is my little brother, Igby.

What kind of a name is "Igby"?

It's the kind of a name that someone
named Sookie is in no position to question.

Sookie?

Where do you go to school?
- Bennington.

Ollie's majoring in Neo-Fascism
at Columbia.

Economics.
- Semantics.

What's your major?
- Attitude.

I've gotta get back to the bar.
- That's where I'm headed.

Catch you kids later.

D.H. brings you up a lot.

Captain Charisma is my godfather.
- I know.

So, if something horrible, God forbid...

were to befall my mother,
I would live with him and Bunny.

I know what godparents are.
- You're ripping apart my potential home.

My being here offends you?
- Your being here is great.

I had no choice.
- No, really. I think you're great.

Thank you.

It's him bringing you here that tortures me.

I love the fact that the captain
of the morality team invites his chick...

to the same party as his wife, who isn't
the sharpest tool in the shed anymore.

And what's more, none of their supposed
mutual friends protects her.

None of them bats a fucking eyelash
at his hypocrisy. I love that, I really do.

Embrace your moral hypocrisy,
D.H. Go for it.

But me you're okay with.
- Honestly.

Listen, you know what?

If you're ever in the city,
you should pop by the loft.

We're done working on it.

I know.

No worries, Mother.
Igby is on his way to the airport.

The driver's been briefed
to take him directly to LaGuardia.

He'll be in St. Anthony's loving custody
by this afternoon.

And happy birthday, Mother.

Much love.

Sir?

It's my mother's birthday today, and I forgot.

Is there any way that...

we could just...

make a quick stop
in the city somewhere, so...

I can get her something?

She'd be so surprised.

Can I help you?

Hey.

You remember me?
From the Hamptons John Birch Cotillion.

Yeah. How you doin'?

Come on in.

So, you said you'd come by and you did.
A month later.

Love what you've done with the space.
- I love what the space has done to her.

Igby.
- This is my friend, Russel.

Hi.
- Hi.

Igby is D.H. 's...
- Godson.

Russel's just...
- What?

He's just a brilliant artist.

So, what are you doing here?

Celebrating.

St. Anthony's accepted me.

Congratulations?

I'm on the lam.

You want to stay here?
- Lf there's enough room.

You can't stay here.

I don't even live here.
I rent this space to work in. I work here.

I pay rent.
D.H. doesn't even know you're here?

It's kind of awkward.

Great.

I don't know what you're gonna do,
because there isn't an extra key...

and only D.H. can get them made, so...

There's an extra key on the windowsill
in the hallway, the landing outside the door.

But it has to be here when D.H. needs it.

Why would D.H. need it?
- Fuck you!

You can stay here for a couple days
and that's it.

Contrary to popular belief,
D.H. is my landlord.

I'm an established artist. I work here.
My projects are supported.

I can't afford to fuck up my relationship
with my landlord. Do you understand?

So, let yourself in and out...

with the key,
but each time he reaches for it...

it's there waiting for him.
- Sure.

I don't wanna know you're here
or see any traces of you in here.

Gotcha.

For a couple of days.

I'm just gonna run to the bathroom.

So, you're an artist?

What kind of art?

What do you mean, "what kind of art"?

I mean do you paint, or what?

I got what you meant,
but you obviously didn't get what I meant.

An artist creates art,
regardless of what form the canvas takes.

So, what do you do? Paint?
- I'm a performance artist.

So, you don't paint.

Rachel thinks that D.H. is going to...

leave his wifey and set up house with her.
- Shut the fuck up, Russel!

What do you think the chances of that are?

Moneybuckets, take me away!

Could you persuade your godfather
into letting me use one of his buildings...

for one of my pieces?

What would you want to do with it?
- I don't know.

Russel is just, like...

very brilliant.

How old are you?
- I'm 18.

I'm very close to being 18.

Still no news on Igby?
- No.

He will turn up.

D.H. is...

spending more time in New York these
days than here in Georgetown, so...

he is bound to find him.

You know, listen,
I just want you to know that if you should...

take a very bad turn...

death, for instance...
Not to worry about the boys.

D.H. was so excited
about having them this summer...

and, you know,
if we could be surrogates...

and help the boys in any way,
you know that would make us very happy.

I just want you to know that.

Not to mention the fact that he's...
Over the years, he's invested...

an awful lot emotionally
and, well, financially into the boys.

Igby's tuition and such.

I mean, where else would you turn?

Jason?

Handsome.

Handsome, sad Jason...
- Shut up.

who so depleted your finances
and your options.

I mean, the sacrifices
you've made to the boys...

I'm just, well, how...

How did you do it?
- Stirrups and a turkey baster.

Bunny?
- Yeah?

You are a feeble woman.

Did I hear Mimi?

She's just freshening up.

She's freshening up?

Mimi?

Did she leave, D.H.?

Without saying goodbye?

She did leave a note.

Of course she did.

Sweet Mimi!

Can't you hit D.H. up for some bucks?

I'd ask him myself,
but I'm not having sex with him.

Fuck you. Get a job.
- Please!

Things have become fragile with D.H.

What things?

Me.

Russel!

You're not even paying rent.
All you really need is pocket cash.

I have needs.

Russel's always looking for assistants
for projects.

I'm sure he'd throw you work
as a favor to me. He loves me.

Where the fuck are you?

On one of his artworks?

Shit!
- Catch!

I know you. You're that boy
from the Hamptons party.

Iggy?

I met you at your uncle's party.

Igby. He's my godfather. Leave me alone.

Igby.

What?

Dime bag.

That got your attention.

Pavlov's pothead.

I hear the sound of a bong clink
and my eyes begin to water.

That's funny.

Thanks.

The park?

Yeah.

You can't guard me, Mindy!

C'mon, where'd it go?

Oh, shit!

You bitch!
- My ball, cuntface!

Are you a vegetarian?
- Why would you ask that?

I've just never seen anybody
roll a joint like that.

What does that have to do
with being a vegetarian?

They're just so precious.

I roll perfect joints.

I'm not putting them down. They're great.
- Thank you.

It's incredible that a human being
could make such neat little joints.

You make it sound as if
I'm anal or something.

Just because I can roll a perfect joint.
- Not anal.

Vegetarian.

What does that mean?

You don't roll
big Rasta spliff joints, do you?

Your joints are like salad joints,
not like a big...

sloppy, bleeding-cheeseburger-
that-you-rip-into-kind-of-a-joint joint.

I guess marijuana
isn't a visceral experience for me.

Sex is for me.
- Right.

Okay, so I am a vegetarian.
But for purely moral reasons.

I thought you went to school
at Brandeis or someplace.

Bennington. I do.

Why aren't you there?
- I took a semester off.

I needed time to recuperate.

From what?

Entenmann's cookies,
beer, diet pills, tension...

life.

My dad's been recuperating for six years.

What do you mean?

From life. Nothing.

Let's go.

You've come a long way, baby.

You're funny.

Hello, I'm Lt. Ernest Smith
from Pershing Academy.

I'm here to ask about a...
- Those are fabulous.

Where did you get them?
- The army.

See, I'm regular army.

Mrs. Slocumb found out
I was stationed in New Jersey now...

so she just thought that maybe Igby,
since he worked here this summer...

Can I have these?

No.

I'm asking about Igby Slocumb!

Anne Frank, the soldiers are gone.
Come out and play.

Yum, with three "M"s.

You have a huge crush on me, don't you?

Fuck off.

How's your brother doing these days?

I don't have a brother. I'm an only child.
- Oliver's your brother, I thought.

He is, and yet...
- And yet what?

I was about to say that we were
both raised only children, but...

that sounds like something
you would say.

What do you do?

I'm preparing to leave.

Where do you want to go?

Far away.

I was thinking
about joining the Peace Corps.

Go on my Razor's Edge experience.

Discover the meaning of life.

Whatever.

You need at least three years of college
to join the Peace Corps, don't you?

You do?

Yeah. I had a friend at school who joined.

That could be a slight snag.

I haven't even gotten around
to taking my GED yet.

So take it.
- I gotta go to Hackensack.

So go! Stop procrastinating.
It's almost Christmas.

Not going to New Jersey isn't
procrastinating. It's common sense.

Do you want me to go with you?
- No.

I will.

All right, that'd be great.

Why aren't you in school now?

Sheer ingenuity.

You're funny.

Instead of saying
that someone or something is funny...

why don't you just laugh?

Is that better?
- Much.

Gosh, I've never been to a hideout before.
- Shut up.

My boy...

you look a bit...

peaked.

I don't feel peaked.

Say...

give your...

Give your mother a call.

Let her know you're alive, yes?

You need to eat some red meat, my boy.

You're all pale.

I didn't know he was here.
The key was on the window.

We had lunch. I let him in.

How was I supposed to know that?
It wasn't my fault.

We had an agreement. You fucked up.
- It wasn't my fault.

You fucking idiot!

So...

I guess you have to pay rent this month.

Rachel, stop.

She's a...

dancer who doesn't dance, and...

her friend is a painter who doesn't paint.

It's kind of a boho version of
Island of the Lost Toys.

And she's a lot stronger than she looks.

I broke my butt!

You know what I think about
when I'm this close to another body?

I think...

one day...

at one moment...

this body that I'm holding in my arms
will stop breathing...

stop living...

just...

stop.

One day, you'll see my name in the obits
and you'll remember this moment.

You're a real fuckin' upper.

How did you end up at military school?

Mimi.

Mimi?
- My mother.

You call your mother "Mimi"?

"Heinous One" is a bit cumbersome.

Right.

"Medea" was already taken.

Your mother sent you to military school?

In all fairness to her, I did get kicked out
of most of the schools on the East Coast.

Still, I just assumed that military school
was an empty threat, like with most parents.

She called that bluff.

Do you resent her for sending you there?

I'm glad I went.

It made everything clear to me.

Like what?

The fight.

15 minutes.
- Okay.

Downstairs, dressed,
waiting for your father, in 15 minutes...

or you're taking the bus.

I know.

Dad?

You see...

Igby...

I feel this...

great...

pressure...

coming down on me.

It's just constantly coming down on me...

crushing me.

You make it sound sinister. That's
what good schools are for, to shape you...

not brainwash you
in some evil, Orwellian way, or...

squash you
into something you're not, but...

I know my mother
teaches metaphysical poetry at Vassar.

I really believe she tries...

My father went through the system and
it told him what he was supposed to want.

He achieved everything, and...

then in his 40s, he flipped.

What did he really want?

Sunny days.

Now Dad is in the Maryland Home
for the Befuddled.

Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.

So, you're never going back to school?

What are you planning to do with your life,
Igby? Just kill time until...

My nervous breakdown comes along?

Is your father dead?

No, why?

'Cause when I talked about mine, you didn't
feel obligated to compare and contrast.

He's a theologian.

A Jewish theologian
and a metaphysical poetess.

Doesn't explain you.

What would?

Cross-dressing psychoanalysts?

Heroin junkies?

I don't know.
- Thanks.

My parents...

were two...

very idealistic, incredibly bright...

narcissists.

I was like their vanity project.

Oh, my God.
- What?

You torture me.

I was adopted, okay?

That would explain everything.

'Cause, I mean,
how many Vassar professors...

and intellectual theologians
beget nymphomaniacal...

pseudo-bohemian J.A.P. s?

Actually, a lot, probably, right?

I'm not a J.A.P.

Good morning. I'm Oliver. We met at the...
- Right.

At that party in the Hamptons.

You're the fascist brother.
- He prefers "Young Republican."

I'm Sookie.

Excuse me. I've got to...

I'm sorry.

God, you're pathetic.
- Thank you, fuckwit.

D.H. told you I was here?

Your little vacation's about to
come to a rather abrupt and severe end.

Come again?

You're still a minor.

So?

Since you're not interested
in taking care of your education...

measures are being taken on your behalf.

What measures?

Mom's coming up next weekend.

Great.

I'm taking my equivalency test on Friday.
- Whatever.

I can vouch,
because I made the appointment.

Really?
- Really.

Oh, my God! It's almost the afternoon.

Look, it was...

nice meeting you. I'm gonna take off.
- Where are you headed?

My mom's. Upper East Side.

Me, too. That's where I'm staying.

Amidst the cobwebs and geriatrics.

The geriatrics?

Everyone's inferior to Ollie in some way.
Ask him, he'll tell ya.

Let me give you a lift.

It's a write-off for D.H.
You can't pass up a free ride.

Friday?
- Friday.

See ya.

It's not his real name.

He had a stuffed bear as a kid, Digby Bear.
They were British, I think.

And because he always got everything
wrong, he called it "Igby."

Whenever he committed a crime,
he would say, "I didn't do it, Igby did."

And to break him of this habit,
being as hip to child psych as she was...

Mimi started referring to him as Igby
every time he lied.

He lied a lot.

So, you work for your godfather?

Igby's, D.H., who is amazing.

His mind functions only to make money.

He thinks he has everything
he could possibly want...

so he walks around acting the way he
thinks a happy and content man should act.

He's a parody.

Lf he's a parody, why do you work for him?
- He's an obscenely rich parody.

And if he wants to make me
in his image, hey.

What does your mother do?

She's a writer,
though mostly she just teaches now.

Is she divorced?

Never married.

How come?
- Doesn't like men.

Lesbian.
- No.

Just a failed heterosexual.

Listen, thanks for the lift.

Shit!

What, did you lose your wallet?

I don't have the keys
to my aunt's apartment.

The doorman won't let you in?
- He's totally senile, never remembers me.

I'll just wait for her.

Wander around.

She'll be in this evening at some point.

Are you sure?
- Yeah.

Could I use your phone?
- Sure.

I mean, God.

Can I get a receipt?

Mimi...

had been afraid someone
would find something embarrassing.

So up went her little soldier...

while she waited downstairs.

This old lady led me to his desk.

And before she left me there, made sure
to give me a nice pat on the head.

I wanted to break her fucking hand.

So, I sat down in my father's chair
and I started looking in his desk.

Each drawer that I opened was the same.

No books, no pencils...

just row upon row
of meticulously stacked cigarettes.

Thousands of them.

And all I could think was...

not the extent to which
my father's sickness had damaged him...

but rather:

"Gosh...

"how would somebody do this without
anyone in the office being the wiser?"

You know, not "my father's so far fucking
gone, he ain't never comin' back..."

but just:

"How the fuck
did he get all of these cigarettes...

"into this desk?"

You were numb.

Sookie...

I am numb.

Everything all right here, folks? You okay?
- Great.

Excuse me! I'm sorry.

Do you want me to give this to you
or should I hang on to it?

I want you to pin it to my lapel
with my mittens and nametag.

Snippy. No bus-ride treat for you.
- Shut up!

You're being really immature about this.

If I'm immature, you're prenatal.
God, to be impressed by that preppy prick.

We hung out. We're closer in age.

He's your brother.
You act like you hate him.

I do!

I do hate him. He's totally hateable.

Evil, niblet fuck.

There's been a misunderstanding.
Next fall is not good.

I need my son enrolled this spring.

Have you spoken to his godfather,
D.H. Banes?

Igby is his favorite charity.

He's sponsoring the boy, as in, financially.

What do we have to do, then,
to make it happen this spring?

You do that.

Thank you very much.

Bye-bye.

I'm goin' to California.
I need a fuckin' sunny day.

Can I come?

I'm serious.

There's nothing keeping me here.

Except perhaps poverty.

Can't let that stop you.
- I can't.

I've always wanted
to drive across the country.

Maybe this summer.
- Fuck that. I'm flying.

I wanna come, asshole.
- Good.

'Cause I'd be afraid to go by myself.

May I freshen your drink?
- A little baby portion, please.

Bigger baby.

Thank you.

I must say...

you have perfected the hobo look.

You didn't buy the suit, did you?
Someone left it someplace for you?

Dad.

How apropos.

I want my money.

My money from Dad.

I'll get it in two years, anyway.

So you can extend your vacation?
- I need it.

You freed it up early for Ollie.

Ollie graduated from high school.
He graduated at the top of his class.

He earned it.
I'm not gonna subsidize your being a bum.

It's a moot point, anyhow.
- What do you mean?

You're assuming Jason provided for you
in the same manner he provided for Ollie.

Yes.

He didn't.

You're lying.

Darling...

why would I lie when I can just say "no"?

I've had a conversation with Mr. McKaye...

headmaster of St. Anthony's, and in spite
of your little disappearing act this fall...

he has agreed to admit you
after Christmas.

You'll be boarding there...
- I'm not going back.

I passed the equivalency test.
I don't have to go back.

Of course, I don't trust you with the train
fare, so if you just look up Ollie...

tell him that I will reimburse him
if he buys your ticket.

I don't have his number.
- D.H. does.

If it had just occurred to me
to mention it to Ollie.

I saw him this afternoon,
for lunch, with his girlfriend.

In fact, you just missed him,
darling, by about...

an hour and a half.

His Connecticut one?

Though I rather liked her. This is a new
one, a rather attractive New York girl, a...

Jewish girl.

You've reached my studio. If you want to
rent, leave your information after the beep.

Otherwise, you know what to do.

Honey? I hope I caught you.

Guess where I am. St. Vincent's Hospital.

We're having a party.

Everybody is here, just fucking everybody.

It's a party.

A bad batch Mama sold you.

But I caught you in time, right?

You're not coming to this party, right?

Hello, Bunny? It's Igby.

I'm in New York. Listen, is D.H. there?

Thank you. She was by my place,
literally, seconds ago.

She must've used in the cab
on the way home.

My God, what's that about, right?

A little patience, girl, huh?

Hi. The doctor said
that she's gonna be fine.

Out tomorrow maybe.

Everything's taken care of.
Nothing more to do here.

I'm Rachel's friend, Russel.

Hi.

Need a lift? Headed back to the loft?

Yeah. Thanks, D.H.
- Please.

I'm sorry I called like that.
I didn't know what else to do.

You did the right thing.
I'm glad we were on the island.

Good boy.

Very good boy.

You know, I was the best man at your
parents' wedding. Did you know that, Igby?

The golden couple.
That's what the paper called it.

My boy.

You know what I think you've been up to?
I think you've been pissing...

in the well from which you drink.

That's what I think you've been up to.

What happened?

Breach of contract.

D.H. did this to you?

I didn't know he could get angry.
- He wasn't angry.

He felt obligated.

Not to worry. I doubt it will affect
your position as his prime punk.

I think if Gandhi had had to hang out
with you for any prolonged period of time...

he'd have ended up
kicking the shit out of you.

Fuckwit.

Why?

Rachel.

You're screwing Rachel?

You're screwing Rachel?

Where was Rachel
when all this was going on?

OD'd.

Is she dead?

St. Vincent's.

Unbelievable.

Mom wanted me to escort you down to DC...

and deliver you to St. Anthony's,
but you can't travel now.

At least not with me.

I'm not going. I took the equivalency test.

I don't have to go.
- Humor her.

Humor me and fuck off.

Apparently, they found another lump.

Good.

Say hello to Sookie for me.

You see...

I have this...

I feel...

this...

great...

pressure...

coming down on me.

It's crushing me.

It's just you and me, old man.

Are you there?

Oh, my God!

I'm in the shower.
Go away. Come back later!

We've gotta go now. I gotta get out of here.
- What?

We gotta go. I know we said the summer,
but we gotta go now.

There's something that I have to tell you.

Ollie. I know.

How soon can you be ready?
- I can't go with you.

Things have changed.

They haven't.

You're my friend!
That hasn't changed, right?

That hasn't changed. But...

Ollie and I are...

We're the same age, and...

Calm down!

This is perfect! This is fucking perfect!

Sookie Sapperstein
and the Young Republican.

Of course. How natural!
- Shut up!

You think you're what he wants?

You think that you fit the picture
of how he wants his life to look?

You think that he would bring you
back to our mother as a potential wife?

Our mother?

She'd be nice to your face,
but the first opportunity...

she'd pull him aside and warn him off.

"Mongrel children have such
a hard time fitting in, dearest!"

Shut up!

He will lie to you!

He will use you up and marry some inbred...

Darien Frau who will beget him
all the towheaded brats he can afford.

Go away!

They are rigid and they are cold!

And you don't know
they are cold to the fuckin' bone!

I'm not going with you.

I'm scared.

You're just a glutton for fuckin' punishment,
aren't you, lgs?

Russel!

I need a job!

Hello?

Lisa Fiedler's?

I know a girl from Baltimore.

So what?

I know a girl from Baltimore.

What are you talking about?

I know a girl from Baltimore!

So do I!

Lisa, there's some guy here for you,
but he keeps talking...

Who is it?
- I don't know.

He's saying something about Baltimore?

The drugs!
- The drugs!

It's me. I'm at Fiedler's house.

She wants to know
if she can pay with a personal check.

You have no cash?
- No.

I might have enough
in travelers' checks and francs.

Her roommate
may have enough in travelers' checks.

And francs!

Okay.

You'll owe us.

Why don't you make yourself comfortable,
guy? I'll be right back.

Miss Piggee?

Yes?

It's Igby.

Ollie Slocumb's younger brother...

Of course!

How is Ollie? Columbia, right?

Right.

We're all hoping
that once he's healed from the accident...

that he'll be able to...

lead a fairly normal life
and be able to go back to a...

Oh, no!

What happened?

Apparently, as far as anyone can tell...

he was 10-speeding a gazillion miles an
hour through Central Park...

racing with all the other Young Turks.

He apparently caught his own reflection
in the handlebar mirror, and became so...

aroused by it
that he burst his Speedo shorts...

which then got caught in the gears
and just threw him on his face, splatter.

Luckily, someone had the presence of mind
to scrape his face off the pavement...

and put it on ice.

Doctors were able to graft most of it back...
- I'm sorry.

And you...

This is what you're up to.

Bigger-picture Darwinism.

You two know each other.

Wow!

Igby Slocumb was in my art class.
He was one of my students.

You used to call me Miss Piggy, didn't you?

Yeah.

Do you want me to cut this for you?

Fuck!

Lucky Charms?

What?

Fuckin' Lucky Charms!

I don't know.

Psycho bitch!

What did you do with her Lucky Charms?

Nothing.

She's a bit upset.

Her one-woman show wasn't terribly
well received at The Pyramid tonight.

Really?

The world isn't ready for Peeka!

No?
- I told her.

Lorna Luft was just too fucking obscure.

People just think you're doing a bad Liza.

I love Lorna.
- Me, too.

Your brother is looking for you.

Your mom is dying.

Yeah?

Yeah.

You know what you have to think of it as?

What?

Like an act of God.

If there were a God,
he'd have acted a lot sooner.

What?
- Nothing.

He left you a ticket.
- Excellent.

It's non-refundable.

He wanted me to tell you that.

Dick.

I gotta take a piss.

Toilet paper?

Here.

It's Russel's.

How are you doing?

I'm pretty sensational, actually.

And you?

Good.

Really.

But...

How is D.H.?

Does he miss me?

I haven't spoken to him since...
- I bet he does.

You're cute.

Come on.

Down.

What?

Your poor mother.

I've been hoarding Seconal
like a proper junkie.

I'm ready.

It's time to round up your brother.

What's this?

An ice-cream sundae.

I accept.

I'm going to DC this weekend
and kill my mother.

I'm shocked.

Ollie called me.

Apparently, he called everybody.

Stole your thunder.

Asshole.

This must be very hard on you.
- Not as fucking hard as it's gonna be on her.

You're just angry and confused.
- Oh, my God, don't do that to me.

What?
- Psych 101 me.

You're a furious boy. I mean,
eventually you won't be a boy...

and it'll eat you up.
- Furious boy?

The thought
that I'm going to live my life without...

ever having told her to fuck off,
is pretty goddamn infuriating.

Do you hate my guts?

For a month I did.

Now you're not even in my top five.

Good.

I missed you.

My life is, I don't know.

I'm drowning in assholes.

I'm your friend.

Listen, after...

I'm not coming back. Not to New York.

I know.

Can we go to your mom's apartment
and have sex?

No!

You think that'll make you
feel better? It won't.

It'll just make you feel really empty and sad.

You're better off masturbating.

Thank you for coming down.

Didn't want to fuck up my inheritance, did I?

Ollie has talked to you?

He explained what is to take place?

He said something about bludgeoning you
with a phone, but he didn't really...

go into specifics.

The irony is that I took for granted
I'd outlive you all.

You'd think, in this family,
that I would be the least likely.

Jason, happy as a clam.
He'll live forever in the institution, you...

You know, just because you're dying,
I'm not going to apologize.

Not for anything that I've ever done.

Why do you want me to be here, Mother?

Comic relief?

I'm going for a walk.

Ollie, what are you drinking?
- Scotch.

Scotch!

I guess D.H. told you.
- What?

We've decided to bump
all those incredibly prominent and...

terribly chic persons that you were
expecting to speak at your memorial, and...

have me speak for two hours or so.

What a clever idea.

You do understand, though,
don't you, that...

it is customary in a eulogy to
at least make reference to the deceased?

I intend to, Mother.

Time permitting.

Are we ready?

Shall we do this?

You know, once we start, you must
get as much inside you as possible.

We've been through this.

I don't want to have to do this again.

Is that strawberry? I thought the idea was
to stop me from vomiting up the poison.

Wait.

I take it you know D.H. is your father.

No.

Then I'm really glad I told you.

Make yum-yum.

Much love, all right?

C'mon, wake up!

Come on!

I'm sorry.

Listen...

Do you wanna see the body
before they come to collect it?

I've seen it.

Excuse me.

Hello, Mrs. Hathaway?

This is Jason Slocumb, Jr.

I'm afraid she can't.

'Cause she's dead.

He's always enjoyed
being the bearer of bad tidings.

Hello, Mrs. Bittle. It's Igby.

Lf you could sign this release.
- I'd love to, Mrs. Bittle...

but she's dead.

Great job.

Thank you.

Aunt Penelope?

It's Igby.
- This all seems to be in order.

I'm in Washington.

This is for you and your helpers.

Thank you very much.
That's very generous of you.

I'm sure she'd love to, Aunt Penelope.

Except for one thing.

Yes, Aunt Penelope, I'm sure she was.

Tuesday.

Thank you.

Bye-bye.

It's ironic...

that the first time
in my entire life that I feel...

remotely affectionate toward her
is when she's dead.

You beat up her corpse.

After that.

The service is in two days.
You can stay in your old room.

You killed her. You bury her.

I'm joking.

Listen, I've got this discount fare, and...

it'd be kinda hypocritical of me.

You know.

You'll handle it like everything else, right?
- Right.

You should hate me.

I don't.

You should.
- I don't hate you.

Don't be indulgent.

Never that.

You're going to California?
- Yep. The Sunshine State.

Actually, Florida's the Sunshine State.

Really?

Three thousand fuckin' miles
away from here.

Is there a number where we can reach you?

We? No.

You'll call when there is.

There really isn't that much
between us, is there?

Just an ever-diminishing amount of blood.

Bye.

Well done.

KinGsub: Subtitle fix
http://www.geocities.com/gogoldmine