Original subtitles

-NARRATOR: Do you wish you could take back

the worst day of your life?

♪♪

♪♪ [Mozart's Symphony No. 40 in G minor]

-Can you smell my vagina?

Not... Uh...

No.

I'm not saying you look like a pervert or anything.

I've got nothing against perverts.

My Uncle Trevor was a pervert.

Sorry, I made this weird.

I didn't mean to make it weird.

The thing is...

I sort of haven't been home yet.

Now, this is wild, so wait for it.

Yesterday afternoon,

I went to the birthday party of a two-year-old.

[chuckles] My friend's little girl.

I mean, well... I mean, our husbands work together,

I've only met her twice,

but it was a costume party, obviously, hence...

Et voila.

I'm, like, an angel, basically.

You know, like from the Bible.

I was checking that I didn't smell sort of thing.

'Cause like I said, I haven't been home.

I actually think I might still be drunk.

I'm Jenny, by the way.

I am great fun at parties.

Reliable. I'm usually the first person to arrive,

and the last person to leave.

That being said, even I know that sometimes

you just gotta go home and wash off your congealed mascara

and change your dirty panties. Am I right?

Uh...

I hate waiting. Don't you?

So fucking boring.

[sighs]

Me and my husband are trying for a baby.

I think my womb is fucked.

I find it kinda funny when people say that, you know?

"Trying" for a baby. Basically just means

he's ejaculating inside me constantly,

but, you know, in a romantic, organized way.

And I don't really mind him doing it.

It's just nice to feel wanted by your husband, you know?

Even if it is mainly to be used as an incubator to grow

a miniature version of him inside me

to feed his faltering ego.

Oh, he's an AI counselor.

We've been together seven and a half years.

We met at a sushi bar.

He did have a brief dalliance with Flavia from accounts,

but that was more my fault because

I made him feel insecure about his receding hairline.

And I think he'll be a great father.

You know? He's really wide.

And, uh, you know, we always talked about having kids.

I just... I hope that they inherit my bone structure

because Lazlo is built like a potato.

Lazlo's my husband, by the way.

Lopsided penis.

And I know that it sounds like a cliché,

but I just know that I was born to be a mother.

I'm patient and I'm... Ah.

Kind. You know?

I've got so many Tupperwares.

And whenever I hold another person's baby,

it stops crying.

Like, right away.

Plus, I'm not afraid of poop.

Or of accidentally killing it.

Anymore. [chuckles]

Also, kids fucking love me.

Seriously.

The kid next door, obsessed with me.

He's very sweet, actually.

Tyler. He runs out to see me whenever I get home.

It's like he waits for me, listening for my car.

Like I got some creepy, adorable stalker.

[sighs]

I used to baby-sit him.

Back when we first moved in.

Yeah, just weekends, you know,

or the odd evening after school.

It's not really a big deal.

Well, I mean, it was a big deal at the time,

because I really looked forward to it,

but I hardly ever think about it now.

I wanted his dad to sit on my face.

I know.

The truth is that Carl, my neighbor,

is the sexiest man on Earth.

He's got those tanned veiny hands

that you can just imagine fondling your breasts.

I was going out to take out the trash

and he just appeared.

Like a mirage.

Leaning over the fence.

"Hey, neighbor," he purred.

His chiseled jaw catching the light,

and the trash bag split and my ovaries exploded.

It was like I went into some kind of a weird trance.

You know?

I know that he was talking something about lawnmowers,

but all I could focus on was his Adam's apple.

So prominent.

I had this overwhelming urge to just suck it.

And then his son came bounding over, thank God.

I think I agreed to baby-sit purely out of embarrassment.

That, and also, I wanted to snoop around Carl's house

and sniff his dirty boxer shorts.

I was gonna trick him into falling in love with me.

So it seems like an excellent plan.

But I really didn't know how to baby-sit.

Uh, and Tyler liked to talk about Spider-Man.

Did I know that Spider-Man could build a web

strong enough to hold The Hulk?

Did I know that Spider-Man could bench press

ten tons at 200 miles per hour?

After a while, I just started to say yes.

Cutting him off before he could finish.

Did I know that Spider-Man... Yes.

Did I know... Fucking yes.

Oh, I mean, I didn't say the F word, obviously,

but you get my drift.

I mean, it's just hard work pretending to be

interested in somebody when somebody is just,

like, whittling on, you know what I mean?

Honestly, I think I just thought

there would be a lot more sittin'.

You know, just hanging out in another person's house.

Got to remember, I wasn't being paid for this.

I mean, Carl had offered,

but I thought that if I took the cash,

he'd be less likely to pay me in sex.

I knew I had to make the kid like me,

because if the kid liked me, then the dad would like me.

So I let him run wild.

Like a hooligan.

He was riding his bike in the house,

having ice cream for dinner.

Oh, it was so much fun.

The most fun I had in years.

I forgot that feeling, you know?

You know, just to be...

free and fuckin' tear shit up.

Oh...

I felt like I could be myself around Tyler.

He didn't judge me.

You know?

And yeah, he talked about Spider-Man a lot,

and he could be a tedious, dweeby little bore,

but he was also just really open.

I mean, I know that sounds ridiculous

'cause I'm talking about an eight-year-old,

but... he'd listen to me.

Like what I had to say actually meant something.

I have always found it so difficult

to open up to people.

Ask anybody, I'm a very closed book.

And Tyler would ask me questions.

And I told him the truth.

The actual truth.

How I hated being Jenny Taylor.

How I didn't blame my reproductive organs

for rejecting me.

How I didn't know if I could ever love my own baby

knowing that we shared the same shitty DNA.

I mean, he told me about his life, too.

How the little turds in his class

would bully him about his glasses.

I mean, I could see why, they were fucking hideous,

but...

I felt this sort of responsibility.

Like I wanted to protect him.

And then there was one day where he just started to cry.

And I remember that I just held him close...

this tiny lycra-clad quivering body,

and I started to cry, too.

Unashamedly.

We both just sat there on the floor of his playroom

sobbing into each other's arms.

Two snotty humans just hurting.

And afterwards, he looked up at me...

his disproportionately magnified red eyes

without a hint of malice,

and he said,

"Vivian said you were sad."

And in that moment, as I looked back at him,

I knew that Carl had a fucking girlfriend.

And I should have known, actually,

because there were two toothbrushes

in his bathroom.

And, of course, Carl had a girlfriend.

Why wouldn't Carl have a girlfriend?

[clattering]

Motherfucker!

Ugh!

I met her, eventually.

This "girlfriend."

Annoyingly beautiful.

One of those thin women that you just know

has all her pubes lasered off.

French looking. I mean, she is fuckin' French.

But she also looks French.

In an expensive Breton top way,

not in the garlicky way.

Worst of all, she's fucking nice. Ugh!

I felt kind of pathetic after I saw her.

Kind of silly.

I mean, to think that Carl would ever look twice

at somebody like me.

I still carried on babysitting, though.

Not because of Carl, obviously,

even though he was still the sexiest man on Earth,

but because of Tyler.

Yeah. I grew fond of the little dweeb.

As I used to wander around Tyler's messy lived-in house

in my bare feet,

I used to imagine that it was my house,

that I lived there,

that it was me who was perfect and French.

I used to try on her shoes, painful little pointy things.

I had a bath once in their en suite.

Ahh. And one night,

after I made sure Tyler was asleep,

I went to their bedroom.

I looked at myself again in their full-length mirror,

and I told myself out loud

how beautiful I was.

How I was too good for them.

How I was a nice fucking person

who deserved a man like Carl and a hairless French vagina.

And then I just started to get undressed.

Mm... first my dress, then my underwear,

'til I just stood there stark buck naked,

wearing nothing but a smile and her painful pointy shoes.

[chuckles]

And I think I must have been very drunk,

and I must have dozed off,

because next thing you know,

I am awoken by this God almighty scream.

"Why are you in our bed?

"Why are you naked?

Out of my shoes!"

And, obviously, all the screaming woke up Tyler,

who just stood at the top of the stairs

asking me what was wrong.

"Don't worry. Everything's fine,"

I told him.

But Carl threw me out of the house

and he hissed in my face,

"Don't you ever come around here again.

"If I ever see you so much as talk to Tyler,

I'm gonna call the police."

It was really humiliating.

There was such hatred in his eyes,

and, like, he thought I was a monster.

And so I never went back after that.

And I don't think they ever told Tyler what happened,

which is a good thing.

And it would break my heart

when he would come running out to see me,

and I'd have to ignore him.

His sad little voice calling over the fence,

"Jenny. Jenny, why don't you like me anymore?"

I think I might have been his only friend.

In many ways, he was kind of mine.

And our two houses share a driveway,

and still, now, to this day,

whenever I get home, he comes running out to see me.

This little Spider-Man figurine taps on my Alfa Romeo window.

I mean, it's kind of annoying, actually,

'cause he's scratching the glass.

I still masturbate over the pointy shoes.

♪♪

Woo!

♪♪

♪♪

I can't actually remember what I'm waiting for.

Why the fuck am I here?

I just wish I could remember how I got here.

I was at the party...

but I wasn't drinking.

And there were so many dull people...

talking about their dull children.

I remember one man just showed me

an endless VR of his son sleeping.

Since when did sleeping become a spectator sport?

Just beige conversation with beige people

eating beige food...

and it was giving me a stomachache,

so I went and I hid in the downstairs bathroom.

It was quiet in there.

The hum of the fan was like white noise,

and I let it wash over me as I sat on the toilet

with my underwear around my ankles.

It had been four weeks.

Four weeks of waiting.

I thought it had finally worked this time.

I was five days late.

And I knew I would love her.

Because Tyler had shown me that I was worthy of love.

And I didn't feel it inside me

this new missing piece.

You know, my body just told me.

My nipples were sore.

I had this weird metallic taste in my mouth.

But, um...

then I saw it on the tissue.

Blood.

So much blood.

The missing piece I had been praying for...

dead in my underwear.

You know, I don't even know how long I was in there,

but somebody was banging on the door,

and I didn't have any stuff with me,

so I just ransacked the cupboards,

but there wasn't anything.

I could just find tissue paper and...

I already blocked up the toilet so I just...

got out of there as fast as I could,

and didn't make eye contact with anyone in the line.

And I walked straight over to the buffet,

and I poured myself a large glass of Pinot Grigio.

[chuckles] And I downed it.

And then I poured myself another,

and I kept knocking 'em back

until my heart didn't hurt anymore,

until I couldn't hear all the two-year-olds playing,

until I was numb and buzzied.

And then it was like

the party seemed so much better then.

Like it was suddenly full of possibilities.

I wanted to talk to people, you know?

And I was mingling with the crowd.

I was laughing and dancing.

I was being really funny.

I was being vivacious.

I... I had this bottle of vodka

and I was just pouring it into people's mouths.

And I could sense very clearly

that Colin was pressed.

So I dragged him across the garden

over to the drinks.

"Colin needs a Bailey's!"

[laughs]

And I grabbed the bottle out of the icy water,

but then, uh, it was, like, slippery and cold.

And we fought over the screw cap.

And the next thing, we're on the floor.

[laughs]

Absolutely hysterical.

And I'm sloshing the Bailey's all over his face.

And then people start shouting, crowding around us.

And Lazlo's there, too, like, his face is all red,

and he's saying, "You're embarrassing yourself,

you need to go home."

And it's nasty.

And it's hostile.

A sea of angry faces.

And I can feel the shame flushing my cheeks,

and, you know, I try to explain,

but everybody hates me.

People are pointing at me and...

and then I could see somebody laugh,

"And I think we're all aware of the situation."

And I look down,

and then I see that I bled through my dress.

[sniffles]

And I just... I...

I just need to get out of there.

So I... I push my way through the barrier of bodies,

hot, salty tears stinging my eyes.

And I just... I need to go home.

And I... I know that I shouldn't drive,

but it's only around the block.

So I stumbled into my Alfa Romeo,

and I scan my retina to start the ignition,

and I slam my foot hard on the gas,

speeding away from all of the pain.

And there's tears in my eyes blurring my vision.

The humiliation there, it's still in the car,

like an unwanted guest in the passenger seat.

And the road seems distorted,

warped and unfamiliar,

but I know that I'm nearly there,

so I cling onto the steering wheel,

and as I swerve around the bend,

and I could see my driveway,

but I'm... I'm gaining speed.

Flash of the mailbox.

I rub at my eyes.

I'm losing control.

But I slammed on the brakes,

but it just happened all so fast,

the horrible impact as I crashed.

And there's colors and cracking and limbs.

And the Spider-Man figurine.

[sobbing]

No!

[sobbing]

No, I didn't. I didn't do it.

[sobbing]

♪♪

-MALE VOICE: Consciousness upload almost complete.

Hey, Kev. She's ready for cerebral extraction.

-Let's just make it quick. I'm supposed to be on lunch.

♪♪

I'm uploading her memories now.

It'll take, uh, 10 minutes.

Ah, shit. You know who this is?

This is that kid killer.

-MALE VOICE: Oh, shit, you're right.

I know she's a memory donor,

but who's gonna want her memories?

-You'd be surprised.

Shame she didn't die in that crash.

Coma feels too easy.

Know what? Fuck it. I'm taking lunch now.

Gonna let her sit in that memory a little longer.

-MALE VOICE: Hey, any idea what soup it is today?

♪♪