All language subtitles for No.Doubt.2019.HDRip.AC3.x264-CMRG

Subtitles by explosiveskull
www.OpenSubtitles.org

Alright, so, Mano e mano

how many girls ask you if
Picasso is your real name?

More than I'd like to talk about.

Especially since a lot
of them argue with me

when I tell 'em it is my real name.

Like, how are you gonna
tell me what my name is?

I think I know more about it than you do.

She's cute.

I bet you 20 bones she has a kid.

How can you tell that from
one inconspicuous photo?

Always trust the bubbling stomach.

Why is your stomach bubbling?

Just scroll.

Illmatic, you're right.

Of all the photos you're
gonna post of your kid,

why would you post the one
directly after you gave birth?

She looks hideous.

I guess she was going for
the natural beauty thing.

Nothing beautiful about that.

Is that her placenta?

Gladly swiping left.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Okay, which one is she?

Every photo is her with
the same four girls.

I'm trying to find Ms. Right Now

and she wants to play
where's fucking Waldo?

I detest that shit.

You know when girls do that,

it's usually 'cause they're the ugliest

one out of the group of friends.

Mhmm.

Then it must be this one.

Duff, you have been spotted.

Ooh, she looks like fuckin' Beetlejuice.

She does!

To the left, to the left.

Oh yeah, you're 25.

25 times two!

Oh, here we go.

Officially head over heels.

Check it out, a close up of her eye.

And, yep, that's her only photo.

Who wouldn't wanna swipe right?

Beats me.

Oh, hold on, let me see something.

You've got quite a few
messages, Master Picasso.

A lot more than I thought you'd have.

Well, if you open up the conversation,

you'll see they're mostly just lonely heys

that no one ever responded to.

You can't just say hey to these girls.

The second you match with them you gotta

do something to show
them you're not just one

of the millions of guys that
wanna make bacon with them.

But I do wanna make bacon with them.

Well, you're not gonna put anything

in the pan with a dry fuckin' DM like hey.

Every hot girl's DM is 50%
lewd messages, 50% heys.

You gotta find the middle ground.

You gotta do something unique.

Well, my heys did work on someone.

Oh, this girl, Sisanie?

Yeah.

We've been talking for like two weeks,

And I can actually keep a
conversation going with her.

No lags, no pretending to be interested.

I mean, it's a good deal.

We text, like, everyday.

Have you guys meet in person yet?

No.

Is a face to face meeting in the works?

Nope.

Dude, will you stop?

What is that for?

That's for preferring to talk

to an attractive young woman on your phone

than talking to her
pussy lips in real time!

I've seen Catfish!

And if I've learned
anything from Nev and Max

it's that anything that seems
too good, really is too good.

Right now, this girl's
on a pillar, you know.

She's cool, she's chill,
and I don't wanna ruin

what we have by meeting her in person.

What if she's a guy?

Or what if she is who she says she is,

but her real life personality pales

in comparison to her online personality.

When I'm not looking for girls to fuck,

I can just sit back, unwind,

and shoot the shit with Sisanie.

What, the, stop, stop!

What the fuck kinda logic is that?

This girl responded to your boring ass hey

and has sustained a
conversation with you for weeks.

She's pretty.

She clearly likes the same things as you.

Look, she's got a Courage
the Cowardly Dog shirt

for crying out loud.

This girl will fuck the
potatoes out of you.

Dude, but what if she's a catfish?

What if she's not a catfish?

Picasso, listen to me
with both ears, alright?

If you haven't at least
discussed the possibility

of meeting this girl in person
by the next time I see you,

I will personally give you a vasectomy

with a rusty safety pin, capiche?

Her vagina is calling your name, dude.

Oh, Picasso, oh, Picasso.

What are you doing?

Just give me that salami.

Stop, just stop.

Just give me that sausage.

I can take it.

Come on, shove it in there, big boy!

Stop it, stop it please!

Come on, shiver me timbers!

Oh my God!

Uh, so many stairs.

Well, technically, I
could get shot anywhere.

The fact that this is Inglewood

shouldn't make a difference.

It's actually not that sketch.

Looks pretty nice inside.

Asshole.

No, but are you sure you know the plan?

Because you tend to have selective memory

and I wanna make sure
my plan is foolproof.

Okay, sad face means call
me so I can make an exit

elegantly, and happy
face means I can stay.

Okay, fuck you very much.

Bye, bitch.

You'll be fine.

It'll be fine.

It'll be fine.

Yeah, I think it'll be fine.

Hi.

Hey.

Thank you.

Thank you.

This is a fuckin' maze.

Yeah.

There's a side entrance
that's closer to my apartment,

but I thought for the sake of presentation

I might as well meet you in front.

Well, you should know
that I hate walking.

If I could ride around
in one of those electric

shopping carts for the
rest of my life, I would.

Well, we don't have any
electric shopping carts,

but there's a few janky ones lying around.

I could push you in one.

I might just take you up on that.

But only if the cart's missing a wheel

and it smells like piss.

Well, I'll see what I can muster up.

How long have we been walking?

Uh, less than a minute.

My feet hurt already.

You really do hate walking.

I did warn you.

This hallway's kinda sketch.

Yeah, I thought the same thing.

Sometimes when I'm by
myself, I turn around

just to make sure I'm not being followed.

Oh my God, imagine if you were.

Like, Leatherface was just posted up

at the very end of the
hallway like, sup, brah.

Uh, I think I'd turn into Usain Bolt.

Not today!

See, not me.

I am one of those people
that would royally

piss off the horror movie audience.

I'd just wait to be killed.

I mean, what is the point in wasting

Leatherface's time giving this illusion

that I am capable of
engaging in a foot chase.

Nope, just cut me open, I can handle it.

You sure about that?

Nope.

This hallway so reminds
me of The Shining though.

Yeah.

Well, if they ever do another remake,

they could do it right here.

Isn't that infuriating?

Another remake.

The Shining is one of those films

that should never be remade.

No one will ever come close to what

Jack Nicholson was able to achieve.

You were supposed to agree with me.

I'm not really crazy about The Shining.

Well, date's over.

Oh, well, I just think it's overrated.

And before you draw your sword,

I'm not saying it's a bad movie.

It definitely had its effective moments,

but to say it was the greatest
horror movie of all time,

I just don't see it.

That film was style over genuine horror.

Plus, Kubrick put his team through hell.

If a director can't destroy the mental

health of their cast and crew,

they shouldn't call themselves a director.

Um, that's a problematic statement.

Here's what I think.

Remakes give filmmakers this opportunity

to resurrect previously awful movies.

I mean, I can think of so
many shitty horror films

that could be remade and enriched,

but instead people choose
to remake the classics,

the films that should have
a do not touch sign on them.

You can say that again.

Do I have to?

Hmm, not too shabby.

Not too shabby at all.

This is the abode.

I live in a shoebox compared to this.

And you have a staircase.

See, staircases in
apartments to me are just,

like, a fuck you to the rest
of us studio apartment folk.

Like, not one but two
of my floors are bigger

than your entire living space.

There's just a bedroom up there.

It's not that great.

But here's the test.

How many bathrooms do you have?

Two.

Oh, that is exceptional.

So one can blow up your
bathroom because you have

one down here for all
visitant bowel unloads, huh?

You don't even use the
downstairs bathroom, do you?

Not really.

You, young guy, have got it made.

This apartment's not that great.

I get that you're
trying to be unpresuming,

but this is a pretty sick pad.

I do not see one blemish.

Hmm, well then you
haven't looked hard enough.

Bring your eyes this away.

Oh, hiya destruction.

What happened here?

Bronx.

Bronx as in the
borough of New York City?

No, Bronx as in my friend's dog, Bronx.

Goddamn, Gertrude.

My friend, Hut, he got himself a husky.

A very unwise decision.

And why is that?

Huskies are cuteness overload.

Like, I need to stop whatever
I'm doing and hug your face.

No.

The cuteness of the husky hampers people's

ability to make sound decisions.

My friend, Hut, got himself a husky purely

on the basis that it was
his little wolfy-pie.

His words not mine.

Hut got this dog and didn't read up on it.

Huskies are balls of energy.

They get bored easily and
when they're not stimulated,

it's chewin' time.

Huskies are little wolfy-pies.

I'd love to have a husky.

They're always so happy.

And their fur is like,

they're like little hairy marshmallows.

Well, Bronx, the hairy
little marshmallow,

he'd be left alone in Hut's apartment,

and in no time, he was
tearing the place apart.

And Hut didn't wanna get mad at the dog

because it was his pup-pup.

Hut had to get a new couch, new curtains,

new shoes, all thanks to Bronx.

You get off Bronx's back, alright?

Also, if you knew what he was capable of

why'd you let him stay at your apartment.

Especially since you don't
seem like a dog person.

I'm not a dog person, but
I was doing a friend a favor.

Hut had to go on a business trip.

Plus, Hut had told me that Bronx

was taking puppy training classes.

So I thought I didn't have
anything to worry about.

I left Bronx downstairs
while I went upstairs to bed,

and the next morning,
I saw that the little

wolfy-pie had snacked on my apartment.

And the shedding?

These guys shed like nobody's business.

Just white hair clumps everywhere.

Turned my living room
into an Alaskan winter.

So are you gonna fix the wreckage?

I got a guy coming next week.

And Hut gave me money
to pay for the damages,

but this looks terrible, doesn't it?

Yeah, but it doesn't take away

from how bitchin' this pad is.

I'd still take your place
over mine any day of the week.

For a second though, I
thought those scratches

were the result of a
victim trying to escape.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

I tried to go along with the last girl

that made that joke, but
apparently I was too convincing

because her whole demeanor changed,

and she called the Uber
with the quickness.

Well, this is kinda American Pyscho-y.

You know, a young guy
living in a nice place

by himself, none the less, right?

Yeah.

You could so be a serial killer.

Well, the same could be said about you.

People always think it's the guy

who invites the girl over to kill her,

but what about the girl that comes over

to the guy's house to kill him?

You're right.

Femme fatales, they are out there.

Online dating requires so much trust.

My biggest fear is that
I'm gonna meet Justine,

only to find out that she's really Justin.

But the fact that I
could be meeting someone

that could possibly end my life,

or cause me great harm is something

I don't think about as much as I should.

Well, that's a reality
I've experienced head on.

Seriously?

Yeah.

It was a little over 3 years ago.

I met this guy on this app.

It was on a different one I used to use.

I don't use it anymore.

But we'd been talking
for a couple of months,

and I thought he was...

I was trying to think of
another word for Mr. Perfect,

but whatever, he was Mr. Perfect.

I should've known that Mr.
Perfect is never Mr. Perfect.

He was Mr. Perfect At
Pretending To Be Mr. Perfect.

But anyway, we decided to meet up,

and I had the bright idea of
inviting him over to my place.

As soon as he got there I knew that

he didn't actually want
to spend time with me.

He just, he wanted to do the deed.

Everything he said had
something to do with sex.

And I immediately knew
this was gonna suck.

So, I wanted to watch a movie
on my shitty little couch,

but he insisted that
we watch it on my bed.

Another trap I fell into.

But, I just, I felt uncomfortable,

and I thought, be nice, watch the movie,

and maybe he'll go home.

And not five minutes into the movie

he's kissing me, and
just being really rough.

And I try pushing him off,
but then he just got stronger,

and he made this really
awkward eye contact,

and he said, you want me to leave, right?

Well, I will.

Right after this.

And here's the kicker,
I didn't fight back.

I didn't scream.

I could've done anything
in my power to get him off.

I could've done all these
things I always told myself

I'd do if something like
this would ever happen to me.

But then I thought, I
could be the next headline

on one of those Facebook articles.

Woman raped and murdered by online date.

So I just lied there, and I cried,

and I guess that turned him off because

he got off of me and left.

And then he blocked me and I
never heard from him again.

I'm sorry.

Things just got really fuckin' dark.

Note to self, don't tell
almost getting raped stories.

And now I'm trying to make light of it.

Oh my God, there's no coming
back from this, is there?

Thanks for sharing that with me.

And now you're thanking me.

You don't even know what to say.

Oh my God, this is like something

you share on the 15th date.

No, it's, you're right, I
don't know what I should be saying,

but that guy's a hideous fuckin' guy.

Yeah, it wasn't a great time for me.

I mean, I almost stopped
online dating altogether,

but it's like if you get
attacked at a grocery story

are you gonna stop going food shopping?

No.

No, I'm really not trying to
make light of this, I just...

No, you're fine.

So, I thought I'd
give it another chance.

And I know most people in my position

wouldn't do that, but...

You're strong.

Yeah, if you say so.

It took me a long-ass
time to get back here,

but here I stand.

And thankfully, since then all I've had

to deal with is harmless losers.

I hope I don't become one
of those harmless losers.

Oh, only the night will tell.

Okay, I know what'll get us back on track.

You got any alchy?

Yes, what do you want?

Bud Light?

No.

Budweiser?

Mm, No.

Sam Adams?

No.

Okay, what do you have?

I have apple ale.

Anything else?

No.

So you asked me what I wanted when you

already knew you only had
one selection of alchy.

I was hoping you'd ask for apple ale.

That's not even a real beer.

That's like someone promising me a ticket

to a Destiny's Child reunion concert

only to find out Beyoncé won't be there.

Michelle and Kelly are
talented in their own right.

In their own right.

That was such a backhanded compliment.

That's not what I meant.

They are talented.

The only thing they did was
elevate Beyoncé's eminence.

They'd sing and dance
circles around you.

Well, of course they would.

I'm not musically or
rhythmically inclined.

I think Michelle has a great
voice, and so does Kelly.

You cannot underplay their journey.

Their journey on Beyoncé's back?

Technical foul.

Okay, but who's the first person you

think of when you hear the
words, Destiny's Child?

Beyoncé.

No, I actually think of Michelle.

Have you ever been thrown
out of your own apartment?

Picasso, the only reason
Destiny's Child existed

was to prepare Beyoncé for the phenomenal

solo career that she was destined for.

That's all any boy or girl group is.

They're meant to showcase
how great the lead singer

is so they can go solo
and become megastars.

Look at N'Sync.

Who's the first person you think of?

Justin Timberlake.

No, J.C.

I always thought he had a
better voice than J-Timz.

J-Timz?

What is he, you're fucking golf buddy.

Okay, fine.

Forget N'Sync.

What about Backstreet Boy?.

Who do you think of?

Brian.

No, actually, AJ.

Okay, now you're deliberately
disagreeing with me.

You know I'm right.

Okay, here we go.

B2K.

Who drove that group?

Omarion.

Yes.

IMX?

Marques Houston.

Mhmm.

H-Town?

Dino.

Could you imagine what that feels like?

To know the group you're
in wouldn't be shit

without the lead singer?

To know your millions of fans are probably

just fans of the lead singer.

Wait, so did you still
want that apple ale?

I mean, since there's
nothing else, fine.

Thank you, thank you.

Yep, yep.

So what's the deal with your name?

I gotta get to the bottom of this.

What do you mean,
what's the deal with it?

Is Picasso your real name?

I'm sure you've answered
that a million times,

but you've never answered me.

My real name is Picasso.

It's spelled like Picasso,
but it's pronounced pick-a-so.

And who decided Picasso
was the name for you?

The legend goes that my
mom had a list of names

and she didn't know which one to pick.

And my dad was very, very impatient.

Annoyingly so.

Pick!

Pick!

Pick a fuckin' name, you trick-ass bitch.

My dad would never ever
talk to my mom like that,

I was taking some creative liberties.

Okay, I think I know how this ends.

Your dad kept telling your
mom to pick, she got fed up,

and named you Picasso
as a form of rebellion.

No, Picasso was actually
one of the names on the list.

24 years later and I still don't
know where she got it from.

She swears it had nothing
to do with Pablo Picasso,

and she gets really upset when people say,

well isn't his name Picasso?

She's adamant that I was named Picasso

and I shouldn't let
anyone call me Picasso.

Well, wouldn't she be proud.

I've been calling you Picasso all night

and you haven't corrected me.

I don't correct anyone.

I wish my name was Picasso,
that's why I answer to it.

Picasso sounds like the villain

in an episode of Courage the Cowardly Dog.

I could so see that.

For some reason I'm envisioning
a spider-like scarecrow

that comes to life and
eats your happiness.

Oh, I'd watch that episode.

You bet your ass you'd
watch that episode.

So I have something.

Why online dating?

Cause it's there.

I feel like that's so Generation Y.

We're too school for cool.

We refuse to find romance
the way our parents did.

We have to do it technologically.

Isn't that so ironic, though?

That we're connecting
with someone on a device

that isolates us from any and everyone.

I was so Jaden Smith just then.

Wait, I have a Jaden Smithism.

I wish I had a giant toilet

to flush away the world's problems.

Ooh!

If baby goats are called kids,

can kids be called baby goats?

Baa!

Haircuts are cranial abortions.

Are we really reading books or are books

Reading us?

Okay, so what about you?

Why was online dating the way to go?

The phone's a safety net.

Online you can be anyone,
you can say anything.

If you get rejected by a
girl, you can just block her.

If you get shut down in real life,

you gotta wallow in that defeat.

You can't just act like nothing happened

like you can online.

Yeah, but in the same respect,

when you meet someone in person,

even if they're not interested,

they still have to acknowledge you.

At least, the mannerly
person will acknowledge you.

You're there in the flesh,
making your interest known.

Whereas, online you get so many messages

that people don't respond to.

You know, there's nothing
that compels people

to give you a chance.

Yeah, but there's
thousands of options online.

You'll get it in eventually.

Hmm.

I didn't mean that.

I was just like...

Removes foot from mouth.

Hello, nurse.

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

The complete series.

That sounded unenthusiastic.

Are You Afraid of the Dark?
Is such a whatever show.

When it comes to children's
horror anthology,

Goosebumps takes the cake.

You think Goosebumps was a better show

than Are You Afraid of the Dark?

Sisanie, I'm worried about you.

It was light years better
than Are You Afraid of the Dark?

Ask anyone.

Clearly, you need a mental
evaluation if you're gonna put

Goosebumps over Are
You Afraid of the Dark?

I mean, on a crappy acting scale, sure,

Are You Afraid of the Dark?
had less crappy performances.

But, come on.

If we're talking about
the nostalgia factor,

nothing will trump Goosebumps.

This is a series that won the kiddies

over in television and literature.

Mad props to R.L. Stine, alright?

Nah.

There was just something so accessible

about Are You Afraid of the Dark?

Here you have a diverse group of kids.

Well, as diverse as you can get

for a Canadian-based
program set in the '90's.

But these kids had
their own little clique,

the Midnight Society,
and they'd sit around

and tell campfire tales.

What kid can't relate to telling

ghost stories with their friends?

The concept alone stole my heart.

But Goosebumps was just so goddamn fun.

See, there it is.

Fun.

I will agree that Goosebumps
was funner, or more fun.

Why isn't funner a real word?

It sounds like a real word.

I think it sounds like a real world.

Picasso, please focus.

Goosebumps was fun,

but Are You Afraid of the Dark? was scary.

That's why it'll always
fart on Goosebumps.

The Goosebumps episodes,
for the most part,

were watered down.

You can tell they were made for kids.

But are You Afraid of
the Dark? had zero chill.

The villains were scary,
the storylines were dark,

and they had no problem
ending a tale on a down note.

They went there.

I always appreciate kid content
that doesn't censor itself.

Because kids are basically
pint-sized adults, right?

We can handle the bleak shit.

I'm just saying, if I had the choice

to binge-watch Goosebumps or
Are You Afraid of the Dark?

I'm always gonna go with Goosebumps.

Even if my preference is solely based

on the fond memories I have
of buying as many Goosebumps

stories as I could at the school book fair

or watching the show on Saturday mornings.

The happiness that Goosebumps brought me

ranks it leaps and bounds above
Are You Afraid of the Dark?

I know what I wanted to ask you?

How much is rent here?

Like $200 something.

Fall off a cliff.

You pay $200 something to live here?

Well, I own it, that's why.

You're a homeowner?

Yeah.

You own a home.

That is what homeowner means.

Are you like low-key
millionaire or something?

No.

My grandfather built cars for Ford.

He worked there for almost 30 years.

He made some very nice money,

and when he passed he
left me a little dough.

A little dough to buy a fuckin' condo.

How much did this place cost?

No, you don't have to answer that.

Wait, yes you do.

How much?

It was not cheap.

That's what I will say.

So what kind of car
do you drive, a Beemer?

No, a Prius.

A Prius?

What's wrong with Priuses?

Do you know how much gas
you save with a Prius?

Priuses are such
anticlimactic cars, you know?

They're also fugly and
they're in abundance.

I see, like, 40 Priuses a day
and they always make me upset.

Why?

Prius drivers are so smug.

Like, ooh, look at me, I drive the most

fuel efficient gasoline-powered
car in the country.

And that's not a good thing?

No, it is.

Then why so hostile?

I don't know, I'll
get back to you on that.

Also, why are you driving a Toyota car

when your grandfather put
his blood, sweat, and tears

into proudly serving
the Ford Motor Company?

You can probably get
discounts on Ford products.

Not at all.

Well, you're still lucky.

Not that your grandpa died.

I'm sorry about that.

But leaving you the inheritance?

I wish my grandpa would die
and leave me some money.

Actually, I don't need the money,

I just wish my grandpa would die.

I don't like my grandpa.

He can't say anything without yelling,

he always spits when he talks,

he can't say thank you,
and he always smells

like olives when he
doesn't even eat olives.

Isn't it interesting how in our old age

we revert back to infancy.

We shit on ourselves freely,
we drool when we're excited,

soft foods are marvelous, and we can say

whatever we want without any backlash.

I remember I was at the
mall with my grandpa,

and this really obese lady walked by,

and my grandfather said, very loudly,

she got the nodamnneck syndrome.

Grandpa, what is nodamnneck?

He said, no damn neck.

And the lady heard him.

She turned around, looked at
him, and then walked away.

You know if I had said that...

She would've beaten
the ambition out of you.

Exactly.

And that wasn't the first or last time

my grandfather said
something crazy like that.

Now, my mom isn't the
best cook, but she tries.

Every Sunday she would make us breakfast.

Pancakes, eggs, fruit, you name it.

Now her eggs weren't so bad,

but her pancakes were a calamity.

Now, my father and I, we'd
never say anything about it,

we'd just eat the pancakes and pretend

they were the best
flapjacks that we ever had.

My grandfather came over one Sunday,

and he ate the food, no problem.

But after breakfast, my mom asked him how

he liked the pancakes, and
he said he would like them

better if they didn't taste like hot shit.

Goddamn, Gertrude.

My mom didn't even get offended.

She just looked at him,
laughed, and walked away.

I look forward to that.

Just being the old dude

that doesn't know how to censor himself.

You and me both.

I'm gonna mow kids down in
my electric shopping cart.

The thought of our
generation being grandparents,

though, is a little scary.

We don't have the same
sensibilities our grandparents had.

Sock hops, having to wait a whole week

just to see a new episode of a TV show

Using landlines.

Respecting our elders.

Actually working to get what you want.

Actually having talent to find success

in the film or music industry.

Having to meet your boyfriend
or girlfriend's parents

before you could actually
call yourselves a couple.

Yeah.

I think the biggest downfall
are the pop culture figures.

Our parents and grandparents
grew up with legit legends.

Who are we supposed to brag
about to our kids or grandkids?

Fetty Wap, Lil' Yatchy,
Beiber the Boy Wonder?

We have J. Cole, Bryson
Tiller, and your girl, Beyoncé.

We have a few icons among
us, but you're right.

It's nowhere near as
special as it used to be.

This is making me sad now.

Wait, random realization.

You grilled me about my name,

but I've never met anybody named Sisanie.

Your name's pretty out there too.

Well, it's a pretty uninspired story.

I was conceived in Sisani.

That's pretty much it.

Where's Sisani?

It's in Greece.

My parents were vacationing there,

things got a little frisky,
and then 9 months later

I was plunged into consciousness.

The only difference is my name

is spelled with an E at the end.

Isn't that unpleasant that your name

brings to mind your parents having sex.

No.

If my parents named me after the place

where they got it on in,
I could never hear my name

without thinking of my parents
doing unspeakable things.

You may have some things
you need to work out then.

You are such a guy.

I feel like I should
be offended by that.

No, it's not a bad thing,

it's just your apartment
is a guy's apartment.

Minimal furniture, a TV
larger than necessary,

and I'm getting a vision
that in one of your cabinets

you have a family size bag of chips in it.

Sour Cream and Onion.

How do you do it?

I's good.

So what do you do for fun around here?

Ha.

You lucky little shit.

Is it luck to win 7 times in a row?

This is skill, chica.

No, reset that shit.

Why are you doing this to yourself?

Hmm?

Three, two, one, Ray Allen with the shot!

Booyah!

Where's the sportsmanship?

It's up my ass and down the street.

You don't have to do
that, I'll pick it up.

Can you get me another ale, though?

I sure can, loser.

Oh, goodness, everywhere.

Look what I found.

This is actually impressive.

You could easily get your
rocks off via the internet,

but you are taking it
back to the old school

with the hard copy porn.

That deserves a slow clap.

I actually forgot I had that.

So you're taking ownership then?

No cockamamie excuses?

What could I say?

Your friend, Hut, left it.

Nope, it's all me.

Hmm, you got a lot of these?

Not a lot, but there are others.

More honesty, good for you.

One thing I will say is I don't always

look through that for gratification.

I also do it because I find something

feministic about porn stars.

You were doing so well.

Now you're flinging shit in my face.

I mean, doing porn isn't
a glamorous line of work

despite the way it's advertised,

but I still find something feministic

about women in the porn industry.

Yeah, cum on my face Mr. Postman.

What freedom fighters they are.

Well, on a cursory level
it seems very demeaning,

but these women are loaded.

Loaded with semen.

No, well yeah, but they're
also loaded with cash.

They get paid to screw.

So if you had a
daughter and she ended up

being a porn star, you'd support her?

I wouldn't want that,
but if she's of age,

she can make a living however she'd like

as long as it's legal.

You don't mean that.

Look, women are sexualized
everyday against their will.

Porn stars are totally
and completely in control

of what goes in or out of their bodies.

They're not doing anything
that they don't wanna do.

Yeah, but what about those videos

where the dudes take it too far?

They go way past their
co-stars comfort level

without having an ounce of compassion.

Those guys are dick-shits,
but for the most part,

the porn industry has
stipulations that are respected.

I'm not saying that women
should set their sights

on doing porn, of course not.

I am saying those women
that, for whatever reason,

find themselves in that world,

the ones with tough
skin, the ones who know

that they're more than just
fat-tittied bimbo number 2,

they deserve recognition
for paying the bills

with the assets that
they've been blessed with.

The assets they were blessed with?

Um, like, 98% of porn
stars have fake asses,

fake boobs, fake hair,
fake lips, fake eyes.

Well, they're blessed with
the money to adorn themselves.

Yeah, but why are they doing that?

They're doing that to
follow some beauty chart

that was created by some fuckin' vermin

who thinks he has the authority

to decide what makes a woman attractive.

Yeah, but they're doing what they have

to do to stay in the game.

Yeah, but in the end, it's
the men who call the shots.

Hardly feministic.

But the face of porn,
the ones that are keeping

this industry as popular
as it is, are the women.

Yeah, but look at the side effects.

You got those guys out there
that only know how to relate

to women by what they see
on their computer screens.

Did you forget what happened to me?

You're totally right.

I'm just saying that porn stars
are just doing their jobs.

You can't blame them for
the dummies out there

that don't know the difference
between reality and fantasy.

That's like watching Man of Steel

and saying, oh, Superman
can fly, so can I!

People have tried.

And they're dummies.

Like I said.

But also porn can be a
means to better oneself.

Like, look at that girl who
did porn to pay her tuition.

She used what she had
to get what she needed,

and that's awesome.

I know a guy that has sex
with grannies to keep himself

financially satiated
and he's hailed for it.

Female porn stars deserve praise too.

You have a friend that has
sex with old ladies for money?

That is revolting.

You gotta eat.

No pun intended.

That pun was so intended.

How old's this guy?

24.

Of course he is.

Yet another Generation Y distinction.

Only a '90s baby would
mitigate his probity

by investing in his dick.

You act like prostitution and being

a sugar baby are new professions.

They've been around for centuries.

I know that.

But back then, people
had to sell their bodies

because they had no other way
to provide for themselves.

They also weren't proud
of what they were doing.

Does this guy enjoy
having sex with grannies?

Oh yeah.

Ew.

Sex is for pleasure not profit.

I've always thought
any work that was legal

was good work, and porn is legal.

Prostitution isn't legal.

It is in Nevada.

Being a sugar baby isn't legal either.

It actually is.

The guy I told you about,

he actually explained how it works.

He hangs out with the
grannies, but there's never

an explicit deal to
exchange money for sex.

This guy, he's pretty vulgar.

He talks about sex a lot,
but it's more than that.

His sugar mamas take care of him,

and in he provides them
with companionship.

Sex is just a bonus.

It doesn't matter
which way you frame it,

prostitution, sugar babying,
porn, none of that's reputable.

What is reputable?

A job that requires you
to keep your clothes on.

You're in finance, right?

Yeah.

That's a real job.

But it's not a job that I enjoy.

Then why do you do it?

Because it pays well.

Look, for a person like my grandpa,

he worked to take care of his family.

I don't even know if he
liked working for Ford,

but he did it.

That's the old school mentality.

Work to provide, not work to enjoy.

That's something our generation
does get right, though.

We don't do shit unless it makes us happy.

I missed the memo apparently.

So how did you get into
finance if you don't like it?

You're probably going to think

I'm flinging more shit in your face,

but senior year of high
school I saw everyone

around me latch on to a field of study.

I saw everyone find something

that they really connected with.

I didn't know what I wanted to do,

and I didn't want anyone to know

that I didn't know what I wanted to do.

So, literally, I looked up the top 10

most popular professions,
I wrote them all down

on separate pieces of
paper, I put them in a hat,

and I picked one and it said accounting.

So you spent four years studying

something you have no interest in?

Yeah.

I thought by the time I turned 18

I should've found my calling,

and when I hadn't, I was worried.

Even now, I don't really know where I'd be

if I hadn't done that
college major raffle.

I live my days as a chameleon.

I go to work because that's
what people my age do.

I drink coffee because
that's what people my age do.

The only time I don't feel out of place

is when I'm just on my futon watching TV.

That's why I salute porn
stars and the people

that you may call degenerates,

because at least they're
doing what they enjoy.

And speaking of doing things
you enjoy, you're a dramaturg.

I'd never even heard of that before you.

But it's something that you're keen on.

You contextualize the world of a play.

You're the bridge that connects

the text, the actors, and the audience.

Do you know what any
of that means or are

you just snowballing the
shit that I told you before?

Ah, a little bit of both,
but I'm mostly snowballing.

We're theatrical gurus, basically.

We're critical thinkers
to the highest degree.

We take the literary info, cultural info,

artistic info, and symbolic info,

though that's pretty much
in line with artistic info,

and we provide all of that to our team,

before and during the show.

And then sometimes after depending on

how much of a mindfuck the play was.

And you're working on an
ecological piece now, right?

The Shakespeare one?

Yeah, we're doing an
interactive adaptation

of A Midsummer Night's Dream.

There's no actual set, it
takes place place all outside.

We're really playing with nature's role

in this world that Shakespeare created.

Whether he knew it or not, he really gave

a voice to nature in
the form of the fairies.

The forest is their home.

The forest is what they know.

The fairies, the creatures
that embody nature,

they're the strongest
characters in the entire play.

And the fact that they're
proficient in enchantment

conveys just how dominant nature is.

So we're really trying
bringing all that out.

I'd really like to see that.

I can get you a ticket.

But here's my thing
about ecological theater.

I saw this play once, I don't
remember what it was called,

but it was about these two polar bears

that were struggling to survive
in the changing climate.

One thing that I could not get over was

why these polar bears spoke like people,

and not just any people,

they spoke like characters
in a Mamet play.

Like F-words and all.

I think I know what
play you're talking about.

Ben and Bart.

Sure, but if you really wanna make

an ecological theater piece,

wouldn't it be best to show animals

and nature as they really are?

I mean, I understand what
you and your team are doing.

But that's different
because you're working

with material that already exists.

But this Ben and Bart stuff,
polar bears don't talk.

This little buddy comedy approach,

it diminished how serious
climate change is,

and it humanized a very
non-human narrative.

It would've been much more compelling

to let actors that actually
looked like bears move around

the space and react to what's
going on without talking.

I'd be all for that.

But most audiences won't pay
to see something like that.

That's why you see talking
trees or talking polar bears.

We try to wrap an ecological message

into the play without
the audience knowing.

Then don't advertise
them as ecological plays.

Just call them plays.

You got any food?

I think some chips would make you happy.

I think you're right.

Okay, here's one.

Kill, fuck, marry.

Meg, Princess Jasmine, and Princess Tiana.

That is quite the roster.

I would fuck Princess Jasmine,

because you know Aladdin's
not giving it to her right.

I would marry Princess Tiana,

because I really think she'd
make me feel invincible.

Sorry Meg.

Of course you'd kill the most

underrated Disney princess in the world.

What other Princess gives you cynicism,

beauty, and backbone.

I still gotta kill her.

You're such an ass-dragon.

Okay, this is getting serious.

Hmm, Prince Charming, Li Shang,
and the Beast in human form.

Um, geez.

Okay, kill Prince Charming.

He's too much of a square for me.

Marry Li Shang, because I think
he'd make a man out of me.

And fuck the Beast, cause he's a beast.

Ah, that's a noble selection.

Oh yes.

Ursula, Cruella De Vil, and Lady Tremaine.

Ooh, I'd kill Cruella immediately.

She's too skinny for me.

I would marry Lady Tremaine.

And I would fuck Ursula.

I'm swimming all up in that octopussy,

just.

Oh my God, you really just said that.

Ew.

Okay, I get very involved
when I play these games, okay?

Alright.

Jafar, Hades, and Gaston.

Now you'd think I'd fuck the
muscle-bound Gaston, right?

Hell no.

He'd rather fuck himself,
so I'm gonna kill him.

Marry Hades, because he's
the ruler of the underworld.

Can someone say sovereignty?

And I'd fuck Jafar, because underneath

that rough exterior I think
he'd be a generous lover.

Now that deserves a slow clap.

Wait, I have to do it with you.

You sure you wanna do this?

Did you not hear me when
I said I'm The Riddler?

Okay, last chance to tap out.

I don't need to tap
out, I'm The Riddler.

Are you really?

Yes.

As an only child, you
have a lot of down time.

I read riddle books all day.

That's not something I'd brag about.

Whatever.

I'm ready like Spongebob, alright?

Okay, you know what
happens if you get one wrong.

I do know, but that's not something

that I need to worry about,
because I'm gonna ace this shit.

Okay, coming at you.

Five of the hardest riddles.

Five of the easiest riddles.

Mhm.

Number one, it's more powerful than God.

It's more evil than the devil.

The poor have it.

The rich need it.

If you eat it, you'll die.

What is it?

Nothing.

I have two arms, but fingers none.

I have two feet, but cannot run.

I carry well, but I've found I carry best

with my feet off the ground.

What am I?

Yawn, wheel barrel.

The more you take, the more
you leave behind, what am I?

Fingerprints.

You can't handle me.

What disappears as
soon as you say its name?

Silence.

Last one, come on.

What type of dress can not be worn?

That was your last one, really?

You could've done better.

Much, much better.

An address.

Hey, now I have a bonus one for you.

That wasn't part of the deal.

I thought you were The Riddler.

Fine.

Riddle my boots.

Okay.

I went to a football game, right?

The quarterback threw a
pass to the wide receiver.

The wide receiver caught
it in the end zone,

but no guys scored a touchdown.

How can that be?

What?

This has to be a trick question.

Was there a penalty or something?

No, it was very a clean touchdown.

There just weren't any guys on the field.

That can't be.

You can't score a touchdown

without any guys on the field.

I'm telling you.

No guys were playing.

Was it an imaginary game or something?

No, it was very real game.

You've gotta be pulling my leg.

You can't score a
touchdown without any guys.

What are you talking about?

It was an all girl's football game.

Goddamn, Gertrude.

Gonna do some relish.

Mmm.

I think we'll top it off
with some chocolate sauce.

Oh yeah.

Stir that bad boy up.

One Disaster On the Rocks for
the overconfident young bloke.

Can I tap out now?

I thought you didn't need to tap out.

You're The Riddler, remember?

Drink up.

And if you're gonna barf, do it that way.

We won't be doing that
anymore, now will we?

You fucking dummy.

You okay?

I am now.

Nice barf fest?

Oh yeah.

Yeah, I know all about that.

At my old apartment I
accidentally ate a roach.

How do you accidentally eat a roach?

I was making some food in the kitchen.

I turned my back for like two seconds,

and the little dirtbag made
a break for my sandwich.

Of course, I didn't
notice so I put the other

piece of bread on top of the roach,

and didn't realize I
was sharing my sandwich

until it was too late.

I would've needed a tongue
transplant after that.

Oh yeah.

I was in the bathroom for
the rest of the night.

Was it at least a small roach?

Oh no.

Small roaches were not welcome

in my old apartment, only the big ones.

These were the kind of roaches

that could go to the
bank and take out a loan.

That's how big they were.

As much as I loathe roaches,

I'd rather eat one than
drink that nasty shit again.

I didn't think you were
actually going to drink it.

I thought you would've been like,

I'm not drinking that
shit, are you nucking futs?

And I would've been like,

okay, I wouldn't have drank it either.

But you went above and beyond.

You could've stopped me.

I could've, but there's no
entertainment value in that.

What's this?

It's a poke war.

I'm at my wit's end.

Make my day, twat-scratch.

Twat-scratch.

Yeah, you are.

I got you!

Do you, um, do you want some more chips?

Um, yeah, chip me.

Now as much as I'd like
to relive my childhood

there are some perks to being an adult.

Like soiling the things that
made being a kid so great.

I'm a huge children's show conspiracist.

Me too.

Lemme hear one of your theories.

Lemme hear one of yours.

I asked you first.

I asked you second.

Okay, I have one for Out of the Box.

You remember that show?

Of course.

Okay, well get ready to hate me,

be cause your beloved Out of
the Box glorified pedophilia.

What?

Look at the premise.

A bunch of kids go and play in a box

with a grown-ass man
and a grown-ass woman.

Tony and Vivian were saints.

Were they?

Did you ever ask yourself,
what do they really want?

And, more importantly,
did these kids' parents

give Tony and Vivian permission to play

with their kids for hours on
end in a box unsupervised?

I think not.

Mm, I would've never gotten pedophilia

from Out of the Box.

Of course not.

But who were Tony and Vivian?

What did they do for a living?

And why did they have so much free time

to play with these kids
alone in a fuckin' box?

The whole come play with us ploy was

just a way to lure these
innocent children away

so Tony and Vivian,
these so-called saints,

could have their way with them.

That sounds like a defamation
lawsuit in the works.

What?

These are just theories.

Fictitious notions to help people like me,

who wish they could live
in the '90s forever,

cope with the lost early years.

If I ruin the images of my
favorite childhood shows,

it cuts back on the sense of longing.

I'm just having a little fun with you.

I'm in the same boat.

I know.

So tell me one of your theories.

I have a Johnny Bravo theory

Let's hear it.

Okay.

So, I always found myself asking,

after watching Johnny Bravo,

why he never gets any girls?

Yes, he's an asshole, yes, he's arrogant,

yes, he lacks subtlety,

but in the real world, how
many girls go after jerks?

A lot!

So every girl that Johnny has any type

of interaction with always hates him?

I don't buy it.

Well, he did live at home with his mom.

These girls don't know that.

How could they know that?

They're just meeting
him for the first time.

But that's something else.

Here's my theory on why he's
so unlucky with the ladies.

The Johnny Bravo that we,
as audience members see,

isn't the real Johnny Bravo.

The real Johnny Bravo is short, bald,

possibly smelly, round.

See, in his distorted mind, he created

an idealized projection of his inner self.

The person he aspired to be.

So on the inside he's tall,
good-looking, strapping.

The quintessential manly man.

In the Johnny Bravo universe,

the women that Johnny Bravo
interact with Johnny Bravo

aren't seeing the Johnny
Bravo that we see.

They're seeing a loser.

His true self.

I'll never look at
Johnny Bravo the same way.

That's all I wanted.

So, tell me something.

Is it true that girls hate it

when guys send hey as the first message?

I'm indifferent to the whole
creative first message thing,

but I do have some friends
that get pretty flustered.

Hmm.

Is it also true that a girl's DMs

are 50% graphically perverted
and 50% bland as hell?

No, it's more like 80%
graphically perverted

and 20% bland as hell.

So, what's the weirdest
thing a guy's said to you?

Oh, I have a Hall of
Fame of weird messages.

Most of them I don't like to repeat,

but I did have this one guy ask

if he could lick the back of my neck.

What?

Yep.

He didn't lead into it,

didn't prepare me for his creepazoidery.

He just went for it.

And usually, I block guys
like that immediately,

but I was kinda curious.

So I asked, why do you wanna
lick the back of my neck?

And he said he wanted to know
what a champion tasted like.

Oh, I hate people sometimes.

Sometimes?

Oh, and I can't tell you
how many dick pics I get.

I get one like every fuckin' day.

I got one this morning.

Shit.

Have you ever sent a dick pic?

Nope.

That's not even a consideration.

That shit travels online
like an oil spill.

I'm not gonna lose my job because pictures

of me and Mr. Pink are floating around.

Why is your penis called Mr. Pink?

Because he goes in vaginas
and vaginas are pink.

Not all of them.

Ew.

So what's the weirdest thing
a girl's ever said to you?

I once had this girl ask me

if she could borrow $20,000
to bail her dad out of jail.

Are you serious?

Very.

And I told her I couldn't because

I just spent $20K bailing
my own dad out of jail.

Drats.

I also had this one girl
ask me if I was interested

in letting her stick a
stalk of celery up my ass.

Goddamn, Gertrude.

Mhmm.

My messages are split
into four categories.

The weirdypants, the tireless spambots,

the racist bozos, and the chill chicas.

Am I a chill chica?

You are.

I fuckin' better be.

I think it's funny how online dating

has become a legitimate
way to make a connection

with someone but I still
won't admit that I use it.

You have no idea how true that is.

I think, like, three of my friends

know that I use dating apps.

Cause, I mean, yes it's commonplace,

but you still get judged so hard for it.

Like, why are you
talking to people online?

That's so weird.

You can't find a boyfriend online.

Like, is it my life or is it yours?

Please say that again
for our listeners at home.

Is it
my life or is it yours?

♪ Tell it, tell it, like it T-I is ♪

Gimme some.

Put your hand out.

Like, there you go, there you go.

You know this?

You know this one.

Yeah.

Look at the puppy!

My friend just sent me this.

Look at his wittle ears.

If you don't think this is
cute, you have the devil in you.

No, it is.

I just don't understand
why people go cuckoo

for Cocoa Puffs every
time they see a puppy

or any other furry pint-sized animals.

Cause they're the cutest things ever,

and they represent all
that's good in the world.

But here's what I'm
trying to understand.

People die every day and
no one seems to care,

but let a puppy die or a kitten die,

and it's mass hysteria.

Did you not hear what I just said?

Cute animals represent all
that's good in the world.

Their only responsibility is to be cute,

and fluffy, and let me
hug their wittle faces.

Is the baby voice necessary?

Yes.

Ms. Popular.

Okay, you wanna see one of
the messages guys send me?

Here.

That violates so many health codes.

Welcome to my DMs.

Sorry, ZanzyStan46, but
your ass is getting blocked.

These guys are barbarians.

I appreciate how disgusted you are,

but I'm sure you've sent
your titillating messages.

Nope, I'm the boring guy, really.

I usually start off with hey,

or what's your favorite TV show?

I mean, look at our convos,

I haven't said anything too racy.

That's actually true.

You have been pretty racy tonight though.

Cause I'm comfortable.

I have that effect on people.

Okay, Colonel Comfortable,

how many girls have you brought back here?

Not including me.

Well that certainly escalated.

Look, the past is the past.

I'm not gonna hold anything against you.

I'm just curious.

I mean, in total, six
girls have been here.

One of whom was underage.

Um.

I didn't do anything with her.

I thought she was 24.

The second I realized that she

was born post The Amanda
Show, I made her leave.

So one of six girls, you
didn't do anything with.

What about the other ones?

You're not even trying to
approach this with any delicacy.

Why not just ask what
you really wanna ask?

How many girls have I slept with?

How many?

In my whole life?

Four.

Only four?

Only four.

You wanna get specific?

I was a virgin all through high school.

I lost my virginity when I was 20,

and only had one other partner in college.

After graduating, I started
using the dating apps

and only managed to
hook up with two girls.

No game?

Actually, and I'm not
saying this to brag,

my body count could've been higher.

I had opportunities.

So, why didn't you get it in?

I don't know any guys
to shy away from sex.

Why are you shaking your head?

Cause I'm gonna sound like
such a wimp after saying this.

Let me decide that, alright?

I haven't had many
partners because I guess

I like the idea of being a mack more

than actually being a mack.

Now, of course, in the
presence of my boys,

I've had women all around town,

but I wanna return the
honesty that you shared

with me with a little honesty of my own.

I say a lot of things, but
I'm not having sex like that.

I mean, I can be very sexually explicit

with the things I say,

but actually going out there
and knocking 'em dead...

The only person aside from you

that knows this is my friend Hut,

and even he gets the edited version.

He thinks I've just hit a dry spell.

He doesn't know my low number

of sexual partners is purposeful.

Alright, I give you full
permission to rag on me.

I just don't want you thinking

that I'm the average fuckboy,
cause I'm really not.

So...

So, does this mean your dick
isn't really named Mr. Pink?

His real name is Sheldon,

but he has been known to
answer to Mr. Pink sometimes.

How do I know you're
telling me the truth?

What if this is just a line
you feed all the other girls?

I wouldn't do that.

Even if I was trying to run game on you,

I wouldn't do it by downplaying the number

of girls I've slept with.

Why not?

Sensitive guys are in.

Nothing that I'm saying is a line.

This is the real Picasso.

Isn't there woman's intuition?

You have a knack for sensing
the shit of the bull.

Is there anything telling
you that I'm being dishonest?

I'm all talk.

Truthfully, the idea of hooking up

with hundreds of girls
kinda gives me anxiety,

but I wear the pimp hat because...

Because, you're a chameleon.

I've only been with
five guys, for the record.

I haven't had sex in over three years.

I've been on some dates,
but nothing got physical.

Not since Mr. Not So Perfect.

Do you go to these guys' houses?

At first, I vowed to keep
meetings in public areas.

You know, just in case I had
to deal with another psycho.

But then I realized a lot of guys

wear their Mr. Perfect masks.

They say what they think they need

to say to get the second date.

Anything to get the
final prize, which is...

The boom boom boom.

When I finally got my zing back

and stopped thinking
every guy was a predator,

I started accepting invitations to houses.

Which I know that's a
very unsafe thing to do,

but I think the best
way to observe someone

is in their natural habitat, their home.

I'm not a complete lamebrain,

I do have mace and other
defensive materials on deck.

Now I'm the scared one.

Just what I wanted.

Okay, I wanna see something.

I wanna see your best fuckboy.

What?

Act like I'm not me, you're not you.

We're strangers in the night.

How would you approach me if you were

actually the playa you pretend to be?

Isn't it too early for role playing?

Shut up, come on.

This is your chance to
authenticate your smoothness.

I want to see you pick me up!

But I already got you to my apartment.

We're not in your apartment.

Pretend we're in a cafe.

I'm already here drinking
my raspberry iced latte.

You come in for your usual
double espresso and crumb cake.

You see me over yonder,
attached to my phone.

What ever does the big playa-playa do?

You really wanna do this?

I wasn't oddly specific for nothing.

Okay.

Okay, cut.

Can you not walk like
you're about to backhand me?

I was just feeling out
the character, alright?

Do it again.

Hi.

Hello.

What's that, a raspberry latte?

Yes, it is.

Sweet drink for a sweet lady.

Okay, you're not good at this.

No, no, no, no, lemme do it again.

A sweet drink for a sweet lady?

That works on some girls.

It doesn't work on this girl.

Start over?

Start over.

But you're really not doing well.

Oh, everybody's a critic.

Hey.

Hi.

I see you're enjoying your drink,

and I don't wanna take
up too much of your time,

but I knew I'd kick myself
later if I didn't come over

and say something, even
if nothing comes of it.

I'm Darryl.

You don't have to tell me your name,

I'll just call you beautiful.

I've seen you in here everyday this week,

coming in, drinking your latte,

and I've always wanted to talk to you.

But I'm sure you've got
guys kicking down your door

all the time, so the
original plan was just

to let you have this time to yourself.

But seven times.

I've seen you here seven times.

Usually, I don't believe in signs,

but this can't be ignored.

I had to come talk to you.

Now, I'm not asking for your number,

and I'm not asking you out on a date.

I just wanted to introduce myself.

So I'm gonna go over there and grab

my double espresso and crumb cake,

then go sit over there, and if you wanted

to join me I would not mind that.

Nice to meet you, beautiful.

Not too shabby, Darryl.

Not too shabby at all.

I'm not a wizard, but I got the magic.

Saying shit like that is gonna annul

everything you just did
so no more of that, 'kay?

Do I get you stamp of approval, though?

I suppose.

Then where's my reward?

What do you want?

Some heroin would be nice.

Sure, let me just
grab some from my purse.

No, but there is
something that I do want.

- No, but there is something that I do want.
- And what would that be?

And what would that be?

Um...

Um...

I, uh...

Oh my God!

You're terrible at being
yourself, you know that?

You knew I wanted to kiss you?

Duh.

We've been leading to it for a while now.

You should've kissed me
when we were by the stairs.

I know, I wanted to.

That would've been a moment.

I just, I usually like to
ask girls before I kiss them?

Why?

I don't wanna throw myself on someone.

That's weird.

You wouldn't have been
throwing yourself on me.

I wanted it too.

But what if you didn't?

That's what the mace is for.

After you shave, do you
slap on the aftershave

or do you dab it on gently?

Dab it on gently.

Of course you do.

Sometimes you gotta throw
caution to the wind.

You talked about woman's intuition right?

Guys have it too.

You knew I wanted to kiss you.

You felt exactly what I felt.

You should've just went for it.

Much better.

But next time, do it without
us having to talk about it.

Next time?

Next time.

Weren't we supposed to
watch a movie tonight?

- Weren't we supposed to watch a movie tonight?
- I think we were.

I think we were.

We still can.

Young is the night.

You wanna pick?

I shall pick the genre.

Comedy all the way.

If it's comedy you want,
it's comedy you'll get.

I know exactly what to pick.

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