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The birdy is hungry again.

If the birdy is hungry,

then it must be fed.

He needs his smack.

I despise this city.

I despise people.

Now you too know.

You can't trust no one.

Everyone is a piece of hit.

Hit.

Hit.

Hit.

Hit.

Hit. Hit. Hit.

EVERYONE IS A PIECE OF HIT.

Dóri!

Dóri!

Son of a…

Dóri.

INSTRUCTIONS FOR FILLING OUT A DEATH CERTIFICATE

PERFECT AS YOU ARE

Dóri.

What?

Did you use my laptop again?

I didn't go near it, leave me alone.

What's this shit?

Duh, a book.

-It's pretty good. -Good?

This garbage?

Never mind that everybody's reading it now.

So? That makes it good?

So that singer's sex book was good, huh?

Because everybody was reading it.

I should sleep with half of the city--

Ew!

SZUPERMODERN STUDIO PRESENTS

WITH SUPPORT FROM THE NATIONAL FILM INSTITUTE

A FILM BY PÉTER VARSICS

PERFECT AS YOU ARE

Every day is a new adventure.

Allow yourself to be enchanted by the sensual aroma.

Aztecchiato: Dancing you awake each morning.

DR. ELEONÓRA PERESZTEGI: TONIGHT?

Good morning.

You got a text.

It always turns me on to see you dressed up like this.

-I'll be late. -So?

It's my new publisher. You know I can't be late.

-Who cares? -I do.

You still have to learn.

They want you.

They'll wait.

Did you believe it too?

That I'm perfect as I am?

Why, I'm not?

You just ruined my day.

Did you believe that if everyone's reading it, it's a good book?

Haven't we met before?

I'm a writer.

Instructions for Filling Out a Death Certificate.

Sorry, what?

My novel.

The previous one. Because my new one's coming out soon.

Haven't read it.

Let's keep it that way.

ADAMANT PUBLISHING

A bit of advice: hide that book quickly in your purse.

This place prefers high literature.

Kata Tordai.

Oh, honey, I'm so glad you're here.

-This is for you. -Really?

And you?

Oh, you're here for the unsold copies, right?

-I hope you signed it for me. -Sure.

Great, I'll start reading it on the train home.

You all know how a good book can affect people's lives.

Take my wife, for example.

She read Dr. Csernus's new self-help book and found herself.

I can't find her ever since.

Is Csernus here by the way? Csernus?

Anyway, I just wanted to thank him.

So,

the Book of the Year Award in 2020, goes to

Kata Tordai: Perfect As You Are.

That woman again. What the hell?

My mom loves her.

Bravo.

Thank you.

This is my first award.

Thank God.

I'm honored, but honestly, I didn't wish for it.

Like hell you didn't.

I'm happy, but I didn't wish for it.

All I can say is what's in my book.

Stop and quit chasing your desires.

At this moment, you're already more than you could wish for.

Thank you so much.

Bravo.

She's totally right though.

I think about that too.

I'll tell you what you think about.

How to get your hands on my company MacBook and my car.

She is the reason they won't publish my new book.

Because?

It's the times we live in. People buy crap, that's why.

Publishers publish crap. That's why.

-Take it elsewhere then. -Where?

Anywhere. There's lots of publishers.

You know me. I'll bust through a wall if I have to,

but I can't take it anywhere.

It's high literature, for fuck's sake. It's not about money.

You've read Instructions, right?

What?

Filling Out a Death Certificate.

My previous novel.

Oh, sure. It was dope.

And now, the Audience Award.

Szabolcs Veres, Hot Desires, Cool Sheets.

Who the fuck is he?

You don't know him?

My mom loves him.

Your mom should have her head examined.

Thank you. Seriously, thanks so, so much.

You're fantastic.

Congratulations…

Thank you.

…for pushing me out of my publisher.

I didn't push you out from anywhere.

Just because the publisher sees potential in my book…

"Just because the publisher sees potential in my book."

I could never decide who's worse:

those who read such shit, or those who write it.

-I'm sorry, but I'd rather… -You don't have to be sorry.

You're perfect as you are.

You remembered my book's title.

Maybe people didn't buy your book

because they thought it was actually an instruction for filling out

a death certificate?

And honestly, how many times do you actually get to fill out

a death certificate, and get hopelessly stuck.

If you need a good title for your new book, give me a call.

I'm the creative director of an international advertising agency.

-I can handle it alone. -So you're not a writer?

A writer too.

-You know what your problem is? -No.

You're missing the basics.

The basics, understand? You write without having read first.

I read your book.

I took one by accident from the publisher.

Found it in my purse.

I like to read while I get my legs waxed.

And? How was it?

The waxing?

You tell me.

How was the book?

These are the winners. I'll order a copy about these cold handcuffs.

I got cake, too.

I'm so proud of you.

What if we continue celebrating at home?

I promised the guys I'd have a drink with them.

You don't mind, do you?

-How was my speech? Good, eh? -Really good.

Give me a kiss.

All alone?

What happened with the hot desires and cool sheets?

Like you care.

You didn't answer my question before.

Of course, you were getting your tonsils vigorously licked.

So?

How did you like my book?

It was horrible.

It was more painful than the waxing.

Cake?

Did they literally bake your boyfriend's book into this?

Thanks for the cake.

I'd say it was nice to meet you,

but that wouldn't be very true.

At least we met here,

since we would never meet on the best seller lists.

I can't help noticing the symbolism.

-Look what you're doing. -What?

You're stuffing your boyfriend into a dog's mouth.

Whatever, it's not my business.

You're the guru. Analyze yourself if you want. See ya.

Analyze myself?

You want me to analyze myself?

When it's you, who's sitting in your stupid office,

-making detergent ads? -I don't do detergent ads, sorry.

-Then you go home to your villa… -Not a villa, sorry.

…and you dare to write about ghetto junkies and the homeless,

and whores with lung cancer. What the hell do you know about them?

You say I should've gone slumming with junkies?

Are you crazy? What for?

You think Jules Verne went to the moon, or what?

Why write if you can't invent things?

Any idiot can write about reality.

Trees, bench, cake, dog. An accountant could write that.

You've no idea what you're writing about.

It's a lie. A wheelbarrow of shit.

You read the review.

What review?

You looked me up.

You read the reviews about Instructions.

No, I did not.

"It is worth noting András Somos' achievement.

His debut novel is both upsetting and breathtaking,

like a wheelbarrow of shit."

In Magyar Narancs, by Gusztáv Csoknyai.

Csoknyai wrote that about your book?

Yes, Csoknyai wrote that about my book.

That brainless, retarded cocksucker.

He wrote the same thing about my book.

Csoknyai in Narancs?

Csoknyai in Narancs.

Okay.

I'll tell you something.

I've never told this to anyone else.

After the magazine published the review,

I tracked down Csoknyai's address.

Kőbánya housing projects.

-Hadnagy Street 21. -Hadnagy Street 21.

Honestly,

what did you want to do to Csoknyai?

You first.

What did you want to do to Csoknyai?

Well? Jules Verne?

Want me to walk on the moon by myself?

What is it?

Oh. Your boyfriend's head is in there.

Sorry, no.

It just looks like that.

Asshole.

You can't even throw it that high.

Me?

What are you doing that for?

You seem to be backing away.

I need a running start. You wouldn't understand.

-But it's only the 2nd floor. -Just watch.

Maybe you want a running start on everything?

Fine, get a running start,

like you always do. Or whatever.

Jules Verne, fuck.

My turn, my turn.

I almost made it too.

You want to hear a secret?

You don't need a running start.

You just have to do it.

Fuck me, you shot Csoknyai down.

-That's not fucking funny. -I know.

-Aren't you calling an ambulance? -Yes.

Hello?

-Looks like he jumped. -Looks like he did.

I'm not surprised.

They're frustrated. All the critics.

They want to create too, but well, they lack talent.

-But we saved his life. -We did.

We must document this.

Like hell we do.

Don't you dare.

I'll sue you. You hear?

Delete it.

#lifesavers.

#AttilaSomos.

András.

Sorry. András.

My taxi's here.

Well, see ya.

Hey.

Thanks.

You really deserved the award.

You gave the gift of reading to the uneducated masses.

An amazing achievement.

A bit of advice before we never see each other again.

You'll be much happier if you forget this whole writing business.

Accept that you can't do it.

There's nothing wrong with that.

You're perfect as you are.

You want to hear a secret?

You don't need a running start.

Ever.

You just have to do it.

Get it?

Just do it.

Dad.

You're famous.

You didn't even tell me.

How dare she?

My father. With Kata Tordai. Hella cool.

-Did it get a lot of views? -A lot? Tons.

How could she do this to me?

-I'm a serious writer. -Uh-huh.

Who'll buy my books now?

PERFECT AS YOU ARE

Haven't you read it?

It's an amazing book.

It changed my life.

I highly recommend it.

500 forints, please.

The biggest cracklings you've ever seen.

Customers will shit themselves in joy.

Costs 1,990 forints a kilo.

We'll write it out in huge-ass letters

so all the old farts can read it too.

Don't you like it?

Did that woman ever win a Golden Lion at Cannes?

-What woman? -Your mom's little pet.

Did she, or didn't she?

She didn't?

From the Golden Blade Awards alone, I won 25. Twenty-five!

And this nobody wants to tell me if I can write?

And she's giving me advice?

I've got bad news for her. People buy my books. That's it.

I was meaning to tell you, it's fucking awesome.

András, you're doing great.

Who would've thought?

I was surprised when you said that this influencer shit

is only good to fuck over the customers.

And now,

here you are.

Bravo.

But this background,

the ambulance, the projects…

It's low-class.

Not trendy low-class, just plain low-class.

Or is that your target audience?

What? No.

You need a more elite environment.

Your books would sell better.

If you take my advice…

-then next time-- -What "next time"?

There's no next time.

I never want to see that woman again.

Okay. So that was the cracklings.

Let me show you the pork chop.

What elite environment did you have in mind?

Maybe something like this.

-Hey guys. -Hello.

-Hi. -Hello.

Hello.

-I made it with stevia. -I love you.

-Where can I put it? -Just there on the table.

Go, Hungarians.

Go, Hungary.

This is Kornél.

And this is the coolest chick in the whole world.

-Hey, Kornél Dobos. -Szabolcs Veres.

-Hello. -Kata Tordai.

I've heard a lot about you.

You brought semi-sweet wine? I know this.

I heard that's what you like.

Nope, but it'll be good for mulled wine in winter.

Anyway, come in, plop yourselves down. Let me take your coat.

-No, I'll do it. -Oh, okay.

You were dying of hunger.

Something tasty for being healthy.

You don't know this?

"Something tasty for being healthy."

Kornél brought me a whole crate.

He is the manufacturer.

You didn't even tell me.

About Kornél?

It's a new thing.

He'd been trying for a while,

-and I thought-- -You could use some yogurt in your fridge?

Even if it sucks.

Super congrats on your award.

-Sorry I couldn't make it, I had to-- -He's seeing someone.

What?

Szabi. He's cheating on me.

How do you know?

Why would he cheat on you?

Dr. Eleonóra Peresztegi.

A 60-year-old with ugly cats, or not, but then she's not on Facebook.

These are the two options.

You idiot.

So, I don't know if you've ever felt like this,

but it's been eating away at me, that I need to get this chick, you know?

I just need her and that's that.

Well…

There's hardly anything I don't get,

but with women it's different.

She showed up for casting…

Thank god I had a heartburn pill, 'cause I was burning.

White bikini, unbelievable titties, super long legs.

Sorry.

Long legs, you know, holy shit.

I just didn't know where to look.

All I could feel was…

She's the juicy peach, you know?

She's the juicy peach. And I'm just nothing.

But it kept eating away at me, top to bottom.

I couldn't stand it, physically…

Who's this asshat?

Are you jealous?

Me?

Why don't you answer my texts?

Answer what?

I told you it's over. We're done. Leave me alone.

-And you won't even tell me why? -Why? Are you serious?

Yes. I'm asking seriously.

Seriously, leave me alone.

-You suddenly care she's your friend? -Leave me alone.

You can't resist me anyway. You never could.

I'd like to serve the hummus.

You pick up the first yogurt man you meet? Just to escape me?

Can I help with anything?

I was about to take this in.

Cheers.

To your new book. When is it coming out?

Soon, now that I have a new publisher.

I've been telling you to leave those idiots.

My wife loved your book.

Wife?

Oh, they split up.

Sign a book for her, please.

You remember what you wrote in mine?

Let me show you.

I love this chick. She drives me nuts.

Attention.

Oops.

"To Csilla, my best friend.

I hate that you run faster than me,

but if you weren't, I wouldn't have written this book.

Thank you. Don't ever slow down."

I'm so proud of you.

Oh, stay like this. I could stare at you for hours.

My yogurt.

I'm proud of you too.

I'm Dr. Eleonóra Peresztegi.

As a microbiologist and as a mother,

I always pay special attention to what I feed my children.

That's why I give them light, yogo-active yogurt,

full of probiotics and healthy bioflavonoids.

Everyone loves it. And they love me.

"Yogo Active, Something tasty for being healthy."

I wrote that.

What an awesome tagline, huh?

Hey.

Hey. What's wrong now?

What did you do to her?

THERE IS MORE INSIDE YOU

You're perfect as you are.

Hi, to whom shall I sign it?

Yvette.

With a Y, two T's and an E at the end.

HOT DESIRES, COOL SHEETS

Could you sign this too?

Is it true that Szabi Veres wrote it about you?

And you're soul twins?

And you believe in tantric sex?

And you're getting married in Tibet?

Thanks.

Bye.

Hi.

I'm Szandy.

With a Y.

Congratulations.

You've just managed to sign the Chinese takeout menu.

If you ask me,

you could really fucking use a drink.

You want cola with it?

I don't drink cola.

Great party, huh?

We should document it.

-What? -Like with Csoknyai.

I don't feel like it. And I look like shit.

I think you look especially good.

Was that a compliment? For me?

Why?

I said your book was crap. I said you can't write.

-I didn't take it seriously. -But I was serious.

And that you really should forget about it.

Enjoying yourselves?

Elite? You call this place elite?

What? They've even got a silver cheetah, dude.

Wipe your nose.

-Hey. -Hey.

My boss.

Shall I take your pic?

Why does everybody want to take a picture with me?

I told you, you look great.

You're gorgeous. I gotta take a pic of you guys.

You look so good together.

You're perfect together.

Get it? "Perfect."

This party is huge.

Hey,

I loved your speech.

See ya.

Random guess, he's not a photographer, right?

So?

I think that's enough for me.

That's right. Let's go crazy if we're at such a mind-blowing party.

Come on, Jules Verne.

-My daughter loves your book. -Is she also uneducated?

She's getting educated now.

I didn't think you had a daughter. Wife?

She left me for her personal trainer a year ago.

I know, I know, a fucking cliché.

I've got a better one.

My boyfriend cheated with my best friend.

My ex-boyfriend.

Okay, it's a tie.

My favorite song.

Fuck.

What's so funny?

You're so funny when you're mad.

-It's not fucking funny. -Yes, yes, it is.

Let me show you.

-See how funny? -Like hell it is.

Don't you dare post it.

Hey. Don't you dare. You hear me?

It's a very bad book.

Please don't write anymore.

Oh, because you are such an expert.

Aren't you sleeping at your mother's?

Yes.

But she doesn't like it if I'm drunk.

-You're drunk. -So are you.

I was just leaving.

I can't believe this.

Don't go anywhere.

My daughter.

You think she recognized me?

For Dóri.

Shall I take you home?

I'll call you then.

What for?

Well…

It was stupid. Let's forget it.

By morning, you'll want to forget it too. Believe me.

I, too, believe in honest communication.

Are you sure we haven't met somewhere before?

You never forget the first time.

HOSPITAL OUTPATIENT CARE

TWO YEARS EARLIER

GASTROSCOPY

If you find some deadly disease, you'll tell me, right?

You're here for a screening.

And? I can't have a deadly disease?

I believe in honest communication.

-Don't be afraid-- -I'm not afraid at all.

I'm just cold.

You could've told me I don't have to lie here with my ass hanging out.

You know how many bare asses I see every day?

I assumed you work here for a reason.

True, there's a reason.

You know how I got hired?

I was shown a bare ass

and an open ankle fracture.

Of course, I chose the bare ass.

But it was a good choice.

Otherwise I might be working in the basement now

at the trauma ward.

Did someone say, "bare ass"?

That's my cue to enter.

Thank you.

You're sticking that--

-Isn't that too thick? -Calm down…

-András. -András.

It's never gotten stuck before.

I'm completely calm.

I'll bust through a wall if I have to.

And I believe in honest communication.

Please tell me if I'm terminally ill.

And please warn me before you--

And we're in.

There.

But relax, I won't stay long.

Moving right along.

So how was your weekend?

We're almost done.

Oh, it looks like…

Is something wrong?

I don't have cancer.

Réka Dombóvári.

That's good.

Have you ever felt that your job is pointless?

The catering lady just read your logo as "bioscar,"

that you worked on for three months.

Don't you care?

Honestly?

I had an experience this morning.

I thought I would die.

Seriously.

I thought it was all over.

Kaput.

And?

I'm completely healthy.

All this here

worth jack shit.

We have to create something that matters. You know?

Life is too short for this crap.

You think they'll give me your company MacBook then?

My MacBook?

Um, yeah.

And maybe your phone.

And your parking space.

When you resign.

Why would I resign?

Are you nuts?

And? You?

What about me?

That's what I'm asking. What's up with you?

Never mind.

Okay, I thought, that

we have a conversation. You know, what friends do.

But I don't want to talk about it.

What for?

It's always the same. You tell me about the gorgeous sun

in Tuscany or wherever you were.

Or about the photographer's dreamy eyes,

or that your bikini was a bit too tight, but all is well.

-While me-- -What are you talking about?

Why? Your bikini wasn't tight this time?

I had a shitty day. Let's leave it at that.

You're acting like it's a competition.

-Why? I thought it was. -No.

Then why do you always run two steps ahead of me?

All right.

Just pull yourself together.

I know that there is more inside you.

ANDRÁS SOMOS

A NOVEL BY ANDRÁS SOMOS

WRITTEN BY ANDRÁS SOMOS

WHAT'S ON YOUR MIND?

NEVER FORGET THAT YOU ARE NOT THE SUM OF YOUR DESIRES.

YOU ARE MORE THAN THAT.

INSTRUCTIONS FOR FILLING OUT A DEATH CERTIFICATE

TODAY

CHINESE TAKEOUT MENU

-Honey, I-- -Are you dating?

What?

-You're dating. -No way.

Remember what I'm about to tell you.

This is beneath me.

-Understand? -Beneath you?

That woman is…

She is this--

Some suburban Paula Coelho.

A nobody. Unimportant.

If you were dating, I'd be really happy.

But we're not.

And I'd be really proud of you.

We're not dating.

-But if you were, I'd-- -We're not.

Just saying.

SALE: ALL BOOKS 500 FORINTS

Excuse me.

I'm looking for András Somos' book.

-Instructions for Filling Out-- -A Death Certificate.

It began to sell.

So the boss took it out from the sale pile.

I don't know why.

We've got a ton more in the storage.

What's cuter than a kitty?

I'll tell you.

A purring kitty.

DO YOU WANT ME TO PURR FOR YOU?

We'll install a speaker in the light box ad,

and it'll purr at the bus stop all day.

Everybody will want a kitty from the Tommy--

-The fuck you call it-- -Tabby.

…Cat Shelter.

Client's happy, Golden Lion at Cannes: check.

Another one. What more could you want?

I need to ask you something.

-I have a friend. -You do?

-What do you mean? -I didn't know you had friends.

Would you turn that shit off?

It feels like I'm getting a prostate massage.

And that's bad?

That's bad.

So,

I have this friend. He hooked up with this girl.

Did they bang?

And? What's the question?

My friend and I, we were discussing whether he should call the chick,

but he doesn't want it to seem like he wants something.

You're an animal.

First, you're like, "I never wanna see that woman again, ever.

It's out of the question."

Then you go and…

I didn't bang her. I don't want anything from her.

Anything serious. Got it.

-Or casual, either. -Though,

it wouldn't be a bad idea if you dated.

For your book's sake.

The PR would give one a hell of a boost for your sales.

Are you crazy? I'm not dating her.

It was just an idea.

One, she pushed me out of my publisher.

Two, her book is shallow, stupid esoterica.

The most annoying kind.

"Let your desires go. Want nothing. You're perfect as you are."

My ass.

And if you just…

Just what?

I'm just brainstorming. There are no bad ideas.

-Just what? -If you just "dated her".

"Dated her?"

András.

This is your book, your campaign, I won't interfere.

But remember, kitties in the background.

You can't go wrong with kitties.

Come on, feel the rhythm.

Purr with me.

Kitty.

TABBY CAT SHELTER

Bless you.

-I'm sorry. -I'm sorry.

I didn't know you were allergic to them.

I didn't either.

But it's worth noting that there were 40 of them.

I just wanted to help. To promote your new book.

Philanthropy and kittens. The best combo.

I'm an ad man. Feel free to use me.

-Bless you. -Don't say it again.

Honestly.

It was you, who wanted to use me, right?

You wanted me to promote the shelter.

They're your client, right?

That's what you said.

Yes, but I'd never, ever use you.

Never?

Ever?

Don't worry--

So, my daughter really sleeps at her mother's.

Great.

Nope.

Careful. You know, books.

What was that?

I'm afraid to look.

What if we went to the emergency room?

No.

Not the ER. Never.

Does it look horrible?

It depends.

"It depends?"

"It depends?"

It just needs to be popped back into place.

At the ER--

I'm not going to the fucking ER, understand?

-I'm not stepping foot in there. -Then what should we do?

-You said it needs to be popped back. -And?

Pop it back. It was you who dislocated it.

Me? You fell on your own books.

-But you sneezed. -But you took me to see 40 cats.

-Pop it back already. -Okay, okay.

How?

Yank it, I don't know. Like in the movies.

-Are you scared of the ER? -I'm not scared.

Are you sure?

Is it back in place?

How about going to the ER instead?

How bad does it hurt?

I don't know.

Hey.

Give me a cigarette, bro.

A cig, bro.

Hey.

-Bro. -Shut up already.

Just a cig, bro.

Hey.

Just a cig, bro, hey.

-Dear Lord… -Hey.

Hey.

Just a cig, bro.

Oh, dear Lord…

Hey, bro?

Give me a cig already.

Oh, dear God.

Give me a cig.

Hey, bro.

Hey.

Just a cig.

András Somos.

András.

That's it?

Shall I do something else?

I have some ideas.

Doctor.

I believe in honest communication.

Tell me the truth.

Will I ever be able to write again?

Did you bring a bandage?

How the fuck am I supposed to wrap the patient's finger?

Thank you.

I thank you.

You're welcome.

Thank you for showing me the man behind the mask for a moment.

What mask?

There's no mask.

There's no mask.

Right.

Are you analyzing me?

There's nothing to analyze.

I don't want to analyze you.

You're perfect as you are, with your mask and all.

I'm not one of your little fans

who keeps wanting to hear they're perfect.

Well?

Is it good?

Or is it too perfect?

Get well soon.

Kata.

András.

You're perfect as you are…

with your mask and all.

"WITH YOUR MASK AND ALL." WHISPERS THE GIRL.

THE LIGHTS DIE IN THE CORRIDOR.

Have you sunk this low, Dad?

You're buying up your own book.

Don't you have things to do?

Lucky you bought some. We've almost run out.

Just go back to reading how perfect you are.

"The only obstacle to your happiness is your own stubborn desires."

Not my words. Kata's words.

-You know, the chick you're-- -We're not dating.

I'm off to shower.

You've got a date?

No, not a date. Work.

Thank you.

Your fans would love it.

Is the rose visible enough?

Sure it is.

It's blurry.

Not enough light.

It looks like broccoli.

-It's fine. -Take another.

No way.

Your fans will say,

"Look, he gave her broccoli."

What's wrong with you?

I know, everything's perfect for you.

And nothing's perfect for you.

-What can I get you to drink? -Two whiskeys with ice. And cola?

I told you already. I don't drink cola.

I'll get your whiskey.

Yes, you're right. Nothing's perfect for me.

If it would be, what would I write about?

Real literature is always born of pain.

Pain?

What pain do you have?

The grocer ran out of lobster?

Your maid mixed your Armani shirt with your golf gloves in the wash?

You had to write a jingle for a detergent,

but you had too many syllables?

-I don't do detergent ads. -Oh, I know.

You're dying to express yourself since commercials don't satisfy you anymore.

It's still more honest than doing it for the money.

Imagine, some people only write just to make money.

You have no idea why I started writing.

Maybe because you saw that every idiot gets filthy rich

with this spiritual healing shit.

Am I right?

Am I right?

A scared girl came into the examination room.

She's barely 20.

She put her magazine on the chair, some tabloid.

There was an ad on the back cover, for that energy drink.

"There's more inside you…" I'm sure you know it.

I wrote it.

The examination starts,

the girl's on the table, the rubber hose hanging out in back.

A colonoscopy.

Did I tell you I used to work at a hospital?

I can already see the tumor on the monitor.

The doctor's face doesn't even flinch.

It's not his first.

I look at the magazine on the chair.

There's the ad with the big, red letters.

"There's more inside you…"

Of course, there's more inside you,

you have a fucking tumor inside for fuck's sake.

Everyone always says things like, don't give up your dreams.

But they never say, that if you don't succeed,

then your dreams will slowly eat you up.

And anyway, how can you be sure those are your dreams?

What if these dreams were just forced onto you

through TV, and billboards,

or through your family, or whatever.

And you slowly die chasing a dream…

that was never really yours.

There's more inside you. Fuck that.

You got just as much inside you as you need.

You're perfect as you are.

What is it?

Nothing. Why?

Relax, the girl is fine, she got surgery.

I sent her a copy of my book.

We really did meet before.

János Hospital.

Gastroscopy. About a year and a half ago.

You came in for screening.

You weren't scared, just cold.

You believed in honest communication,

and held my hand.

You've got me mixed up with someone else.

I remember everything perfectly.

Every single hair sticking out of your ass.

Okay, it was me.

So what?

People always tell you,

in television,

on the billboards,

that come on, there's more inside you,

and don't give up your dreams.

But they never say

that if you can't make them come true,

your dreams

will slowly…

eat you up.

SAVE

My new book's coming out.

-I signed the contract. -Congrats.

This was the most successful campaign of your life.

That popcorn photo was the bomb.

You could even enter that at Cannes.

Quit brown-nosing. You won't get my MacBook.

My mom bought your book.

She said, "It must be good if Kata Tordai's boyfriend wrote it."

Thanks. Hugs to your mom. How is she? Fine?

Then she read it.

And?

Well, she told me to stay away from you,

and hoped that you'd leave that poor girl alone.

Your mother was never famous for her good taste.

Right, I told her,

"Chill, Mom, they are not actually together."

Or…

Of course, we're not together.

Your mother can relax now.

Well, but that made her even more anxious.

That you've tricked Kata.

And now that poor girl won't write any more books because of it.

That "I tricked her?"

If that poor girl let herself be tricked,

then maybe she wasn't so perfect after all.

-Right? -My mother said it, not me.

This yogurt is no good.

But everyone likes it.

It's full of probiotics and healthy bioflavonoids.

Are we gonna finish this shit today already?

I've got stuff to do tonight.

Kata.

I know it sounds stupid,

-but can't we try to-- -Was it worth it?

Was it?

No, no it wasn't. What do you want to hear?

Are you together?

Yes. Yes, we're together.

Then it was worth it.

Kata, I don't want to lose you.

If I could take it all back…

But we can't, Csilla.

I see.

Our friendship was always like this, right?

That you're perfect, and I'm just--

-Everyone's perfect, Csilla. -Stop this crap already.

Just say that I'm the dirty slut who betrayed her friend.

Say it already.

I can't say anything else.

Kata.

I was with Szabi for months without you knowing. We lied to you.

I listened to you talk about

what he likes in bed.

You know where I was during your awards ceremony?

Waiting for him in bed.

-You can't stand me being happy. -That's not true.

It is.

No, it's not, then I wouldn't feel like crap.

I really want you to be happy. Okay?

Then you know what?

Leave me alone.

Okay?

Don't call, don't text.

'Cause right now, I'm happy.

I have to tell you something about András.

You might ask, "András, why is your spaghetti carbonara so perfect?"

I'll tell you.

Most people make it with cream and Parmesan.

Never.

Don't ever use cream.

And instead of Parmesan, pecorino cheese is the only way to go.

Hard pecorino.

I learned that in Naples.

Have you been to Naples?

We must go there.

Let's go to Naples. Right this instant.

Let's eat this first.

Buon appetito.

Perfect.

How was your day?

Same as usual. Aren't you eating?

Csilla mentioned you worked together.

You know, my friend.

Who slept with my ex?

Csilla aka Eleonóra Peresztegi?

"There's more inside you" Csilla?

Oh. That Csilla.

-I didn't know you-- -Where are your books?

More red wine?

Your books. Where are they?

I took them.

They took up too much space.

Why? You need one?

They're selling well these days, no?

Well, it's no Kata Tordai.

But selling well enough to get a new contract.

You could have told me.

Surprise.

You want anything else from me?

What do you mean?

Your books are sold,

you'll have a new one out. You need me anymore?

We're not really together anyway, right?

Don't be silly.

To me,

you're perfect.

Perfect.

How could I be perfect if I let myself get fucked over like this?

Cola?

Don't you understand that I don't drink cola?

Kata, listen--

Wait, let's take a selfie.

Smile. People like that.

And kittens, and roses.

How long did you want to play this game?

-Until I looked like a complete idiot? -You've misunderstood.

What?

That you didn't actually trick me?

Did you trick me or not?

Yes, but everything's changed since then.

Get the hell out of my life, along with your fucking book.

I'll clean it up tonight.

Once again, you screwed things up real good.

What should I say?

That's it?

You just throw up your hands and ask what you should say?

Just keep quiet if you're not doing anything.

You're the one giving me advice?

You wanna know why you're not doing anything?

All you know about life is from your favorite book.

You're not doing anything because you're a coward.

I'm not a coward.

-I'll bust through a wall if I have to. -You?

You're a real jerk.

Forgiveness is more noble than anger.

Because forgiveness has creative power.

Anger destroys.

When you create, you create yourself.

When you destroy, you destroy yourself.

-There's no one. -Then explain to me, what was that?

Do you even want anything from me anymore?

Sure, I do. I want you.

What do you still need me for?

-I love you. -You're lying.

You're just like all the others.

I love you. Don't you see?

Get out of my life.

Don't you understand that I don't drink cola?

Smile, kiss it. There. Great.

Okay, a bit higher.

Okay. Your name?

Kata Tordai, age 16.

Uh-huh.

Put the paper down please, on the table there. Thanks.

Yes.

András, why did you take out the cola?

Get her one of the products. Thanks. Super.

What should I do?

Drink. Don't open it.

Just pretend you're drinking.

FIFTEEN YEARS EARLIER

That's it. Super.

It's like she's giving a blow job, right?

She looks great.

Thanks, that'll be all.

Thanks.

Tell her to stay around until the end.

Kata.

Well, how was it?

I don't know, they didn't really say anything.

They said thanks, but I don't know what that means.

Could you wait a moment? The director wants a word with you.

Did I get the role?

You might have.

Till then, here.

-Next? -Coming.

I'm rooting for you.

-Thanks, Csilla. -Thanks.

-You were very good. -Thanks.

You just need more confidence.

I know.

What's your problem?

Aggression? Desire?

Hidden, unspoken dreams?

And now, ladies and gents, presenting my personal favorite, the cracklings.

But, of course, I have to mention my brilliant boss,

András.

Who rules with an iron fist, but with a mischievous smile

as he leads us on this sinuous path

that takes us to this wonderful campaign.

Let's say it together bravely and loudly,

Hunor Meat. Say it with me.

Hunor Meat.

That's it. Hunor Meat.

And it's no accident that we say it with such gusto,

since the whole country, I repeat, the--

GHETTO WALTZ - V16.

EMPTY RECYCLE BIN

YOU'RE STILL PERFECT AS YOU ARE

I'm sorry.

You're not a jerk.

Yes, I am.

Did I overdo it?

Good luck.

Ladies and gentlemen, Kata Tordai.

MEET THE AUTHOR

Kata, please.

I want to talk to you.

I know I always say I'll bust through a wall if I have to--

Kata.

Kata.

Kata.

I have to tell you something.

Your nose is bleeding.

Do you have a tissue?

-What do you want? -I'm a coward.

And?

I'm a coward. A stinking coward.

Understand?

I wrote a cowardly novel.

I was too scared to go to the moon for it.

I am too scared to admit I'm a bad writer.

Too scared to be honest with myself.

What's this got to do with me?

Everything.

We met before we met at the hospital.

CANDY COLA CASTING

What's your problem?

You were that…

You really are a cowardly shit.

Oh, don't be so whiny.

It wasn't a piano.

You almost killed me.

You're just like all the others.

In every way.

There you were, standing in line with the others who tricked me.

All of you, just fuck off.

You want us to fuck off?

Did somebody just let her anger take over?

Did somebody just want revenge for her pain instead of letting go?

Did somebody just forget to read her own goddamned book?

What an analysis.

Yes, I tricked myself too.

There. Is that what you wanted to hear?

That I'm not perfect? Well, I'm not.

I look at your stupid bleeding head and you know what?

I'm glad. I feel satisfaction. Nothing else.

Is it bleeding badly?

You do have a tissue.

I'm leaving now, okay?

You opened up,

we felt sorry for you.

Then you revealed me as a fraud.

Shall I take you to the ER?

Very funny.

You smell good.

Before you get your hopes up, let's make something clear.

I never ever want anything from you again.

Okay.

Don't worry.

Neither do I.

-Okay. -Okay.

-Okay. -Okay.

-Then… -Then…

Half a star.

From Csoknyai.

Read it.

"Kata Tordai's new book is more devastating than Fukushima,

the global warming, and Ebola combined.

A pinup calendar of Zsa Zsa Gabor

is actually closer to high literature than this unreadable garbage."

Son of a bitch.

After we saved his life.

No running start. Just do it.

That's right. But no yapping either.

What did that dog eat?

Hey.

Naturally, we'll pay for the damage.

I know a good repairman.

Grape brandy.

She left me a month ago.

We were together for 35 years.

That's a lot.

A long time.

You two have no idea how much loneliness can hurt.

You never even thought

that you'd

-save my life twice. -Twice?

Once, when you scraped me off the sidewalk

like a wheelbarrow of dog shit. That's one.

Then,

when you showed me that

the two of you are much, much more pitiful than I could ever be.

-See how funny it is? -Like hell it is.

It's blurry.

This is tough.

Being so lonely, you don't even notice.

Compared to that, I'm doing quite well, thanks.

I'm a big fan, by the way.

I think we'll be going. It's late.

Yes, we must go.

Thanks a lot.

Hey.

Throw out the dog shit on your way down.

Your daughter?

What about her?

Is she sleeping at her mother tonight?