[POSED TO DEATH PLAYING]
♪ I feel a warm resistance ♪
♪ Beneath the outer layer ♪
That's too goddamn elegant not to be true.
Oh, yeah, that's a full load.
That is a full load.
Wow.
Next!
No, no, no. I can do one more.
Dude, can you, like, OD on pot?
I guess we're about to find out.
Oh, my God.
How can I even think?
[SCARLET BEGONIAS PLAYING]
♪ As I was walking 'Round Grosvenor Square ♪
♪ Not a chill to the winter But a nip to the air ♪
Wanna dance?
Yes!
With me?
Dude, denied!
♪ It could be an illusion But I might as well try ♪
♪ Might as well try... ♪
Hello, Bickford. It's Dad.
I'm still trying to reach you.
It's been a couple of weeks already.
I hope no news is good news, but call, okay?
I don't want to have to send another search party.
Busted robbing a fridge.
How embarrassing.
Attractive, uh...
- Toga. - Thank you, it's very me.
So when they say "Toga Party,"
it means you have to actually wear a toga to the party.
Duh! What did you think it was?
I don't know, a state of mind, like, "Come prepared to Toga."
To Toga, or not to Toga.
Shakespeare, right? That's a good imitation.
I'm going to steal this H2O.
So are you having fun at the...
you know, party?
Oh, yeah, mad fun. You?
Not yet.
I've just been on my own so far,
banging my head against a brick wall metaphorically.
So then your head must metaphorically hurt.
Some days, yes.
But Zeus had a headache, and out popped Athena, right?
Goddess of wisdom.
Oh, my God.
Space-out.
I... I used to know mythology.
I totally loved that class.
What...
Oh, paranoia.
Paranoia.
Whoa...
All right.
Huh, banzai.
♪ You can't hurry love ♪
You shall not pass.
Yow!
You shall not pass!
Fucking righteous!
♪ Have you got A light for me? ♪
♪ If so, can you get me Out of this place? ♪
Fuck this noise.
What?
Fuck this noise.
Fuck what?
"This noise," it's a fairly common saying.
♪ Elevation far below you ♪
Hey, look at that guy!
Oh, come on. Jump, dude!
Yeah, go!
Isn't that the whack-job that lives in the basement?
Jesus, yeah.
Hey, uh, Bickford!
You want to hang with us man? Away from the ledge there?
No can do, pal.
I'm not in conversational mode.
I thought I was, but fuck it.
What's he saying?
Uh, what you talking about, Bick?
The problem.
I thought I could forget about it for a while
and mingle, toga, whatever, but no.
No dice.
I'm lobe-locked.
Bro, what's up with the term paper, all right?
You're making us all look bad.
It's not for class.
The problem is just a cool idea.
What... What is it? What's your cool idea?
A unified theory of everything.
It's not a big deal.
Holy God, wow!
Damn!
Proof that we don't exist, one:
Cosmologically.
Black holes contain only matter without mass,
Anything containing mass in a black hole is antimatter.
So if we're living in an unimaginably giant black hole,
We're antimatter.
And antimatter negates existence.
I'm definitely matter, Einstein.
Check out the gut.
All right...
Proof two: Sub-atomically, 99.999% of you...
- Is empty space. - No, no, I heard this it's like...
When you compare, the size of a nucleus of an atom to the size of an actual atom,
It's like comparing the size of a golf ball to the size of the Earth.
Exactly, exactly, so how you can assert your existence with basic physics?
Proves that you're overwhelmingly composed of a preponderance of empty space.
But thinking, I mean the fact that I can think...
How can you think if you don't exist? You know I think...
Therefore, I am. That works for me, man.
Even Descartes believed that he was incorrect.
At the end of his life he re-wrote his flawed theory removing Therefore...
from the equation. You know what changed his mind?
Uh, did he hit the monster bong?
No, Descartes did not hit the monster bong.
Better, the invention of metaphysics blew his mind.
The idea that everybody
experiences life solely, uniquely, impenetrably, from their own point of view.
And no matter how hard anyone tries, they can never see completely,
from another persons point of view.
No offense, bro,
but all these ideas are just paradoxes.
I've had deeper thoughts watching Oprah.
Not that I do.
All right well that's because everything I've said is oversimplified...
All right, this...
existence issue is only a fraction of the problem I've been wrestling.
The equation is made up of fractions that have to be described in
four dimensional space-time to even make them even comprehensible.
How else would you describe it?
We exist in four dimensional space-time!
Or do we?
Who is it?
It's me, Trent.
Jennifer?
It's Sara.
Hey.
Hi.
Look what I liberated.
What is this?
Rocket fuel.
Rocket fuel?
No.
No!
Is that Bick?
Which one of you callous, spineless worms stole The Book?
Yo, Bick, what's wrong, man?
What's wrong is, some cretin at this party stole The Book.
What book?
Did someone steal his Bible?
No, not some generic Bible, you little toga hussy.
My book of cool ideas, Ralph.
Hey, geek boy.
Go cry somewhere else, will ya?
I'm no geek, you knave.
And I'm not shutting up until I get The Book back.
Have it your way, buzz-kill.
Oh, check it out. Fight, fight!
Come on!
This is my house, man!
Ya!
Fucking creep!
What?
Shit.
Help!
Police!
Officers, I've been raped.
- You what? - I've been raped.
- Geez. - Raped? Where did it happen?
Oh, God... Oh, God.
No, no, no, no, not raped like sexually raped.
Raped like the Earth has been raped.
My cool ideas, they're in this book.
A notebook.
Kid, kid, kid...
I live in a basement.
So, what, you were not raped?
RALPH: Hey, hey!
Sorry. Yeah.
Hail, Caesar.
Toga party, officer.
No shit.
You been drinking tonight, son?
Absolutely not. No, sir.
Smoke a little weed?
No.
So if I were to pat you down,
I wouldn't find any weed on you?
No, sir.
Not even, like, a small bud?
Nope.
A little roach or something?
No.
- Shit. - Damn.
Hey, we found your book, man.
Yeah.
Where? Who? How?
I don't know. Some dumb jerk brought it
and read it on the toilet. I don't know.
Somebody found it there, like, right after you left.
- The toilet? - Yeah.
That ignorant scum.
RALPH: So thank you, officers.
Seriously, really. Please, thank you.
Uh, but I think we're okay now.
You're all right, yeah?
Okay, get him home, Brutus.
Freaking college kids with their frickin' books.
It's Saturday night, for Pete's sake.
Shit.
Ralph,
the shattered cosmos once again align.
You saved my life.
Thank you.
Yeah, Bick, I...
I lied, man.
I mean, I didn't find your book.
I just...
What do you mean, you lied?
You lied about the... You lied lied?
Yeah, Bick, I mean...
You lied about The Book, Ralph?
- You lied about The Book. - I had to, Bick.
We... We can't have cops around the house with that rager.
Everyone's drinking, drunk, and I mean, God, even worse.
I mean, seriously, we could get... fined.
Are you okay?
Oh, holy shit. Shit.
Holy shit! You don't have some kind of condition do you?
I literally feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest right now.
Man, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry about this we're gonna find your book OK?
- We'll find it, I swear. - Oh God, get away from me!
Fucking fibster!
You don't care, you don't even know me!
I'm just some loser who lives in the basement to you.
I feel like I know you, I mean I think I get where you're coming from-
Leave!
It's not the end of the worlds, Bick.
Maybe it's a blessing in disguise.
Maybe this will get you to stop thinking so much and
get out there and do.
Out there? In there?
It's all the same, and nobody gets it.
I mean, I talk, and I can see it in their faces.
People think I'm a lunatic.
At least with The Book, I...
I've had enough of the same conversation
over and over and over.
I think I just need to come home. I don't think I'm ready for school.
We all agreed. You, me, the doctor
that school would be the best next step.
I know, but that decision was based on a set of facts
that have changed materially, Dad. Entirely!
I mean, I think I just need to come home until The Book is finished.
Solve the thing, start from scratch. And I can't do that here,
wallowing in this cesspool of...
soon-to-be-Deltas of the brave new world.
Coming home won't bring back Mom, Bickford.
"Every physical structure in the universe, including ourselves,"
"and in a constant state of flux,"
"minimally and maximally, continuously, continuously."
"Yet, our lives are lived in ever-flowing still frames of reality,"
"sanity being the delusion of a comfortable continuity"
"within the vortex of infinite chaos."
"Vortex of infinite chaos"?
Come on, you've got to admit, that rules!
I get it.
Well, okay.
Then he goes on to talk about how we're all sub-atomically in flux
and emotionally in flux and consciously and mentally in flux.
I mean, even our flux is in flux.
So what?
It's just that when you put all these ideas and theories and facts together
and think about them all at the same time,
interconnected, your brain kind of orgasms.
You must be stoned off your head.
No, I am telling you. This book actually made me feel these ideas.
I mean, like, tingly in my toes.
'Cause you were on a stoner safari when you found it.
Like the time you watched The Seventh Seal stoned
and we didn't do anything for the next month
but stay in and watch stupid Swedish movies.
Ingmar Bergman isn't stupid.
Ha!
I should just go sleep with this guy.
"Copyright Bickford Shmeckler."
What kind of sick, twistoid parents
would name their kid Bickford Shmeckler?
I'll ask him.
Okay.
You win. I'll read it.
Shit, I got to get to practice.
9:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning?
That is so not rock and roll.
Yeah, well, we are not rock and roll.
We're adult contemporary.
There's a difference.
So you really think this book is that good
that you would actually bang the guy who wrote it?
Yeah. But I'm a nymphomaniac.
And a klepto.
Hey, quit knocking my hobbies.
You're their prime beneficiary.
Fucking Tarzan wanna-be motherfucker!
I hope he's not down there slitting his wrists or...
hanging himself, you know, OD'ing on pills, something horrible like that.
Dude, why are you so uptight about Dickford?
He doesn't even like us.
Yeah, quit being such a fag.
Pole smoker.
Butt pirate.
- Fudge packer. - Ass bandit.
Ha-ha.
Jizz guzzler.
Yuck!
- Dude, verbal violation. - Dude, that was all net.
All net, man.
No, you don't throw "jizz" out like...
Gentlemen.
I found this most telltale object
adjacent to the location my Tootsie Pops formerly occupied.
Huh?
There was an exceedingly bodacious blonde at the party last night.
She had a wreath-type flower thing in her hair.
We conversed in the kitchen.
I think she may be it, the one, the culprit.
That was Sara Witt.
Sara Witt?
She is pretty.
Sara Witt is a stone-cold fox, bro.
Amen.
And she's all for free.
All for free?
Yeah, you know. Alpha Zeta G?
It's a sorority.
Down on Washington Street?
Alpha Zeta G.
Washington Street.
[HOLD ON LOOSELY PLAYING]
♪ You see it all around you ♪
♪ Good lovin' gone bad ♪
♪ And usually it's too late ♪
♪ When you realize What you had ♪
♪ So hold on loosely ♪
♪ But don't let go ♪
♪ If you cling Too tightly... ♪
♪ You're gonna lose it ♪
You, Trent!
My man is gonna be late for practice again.
Hey, Herbie. Question.
You think I write good lyrics?
Why?
That Sara thing you're bouncin' dissin' ya?
Dissin' me?
The chick worships the ground I walk on.
Yeah right, bro.
Peace.
I am ten times more socially relevant than this geek.
Sara Witt?
Yeah, all right.
I stopped by that sorority house thing of yours, and your friends, "sisters,"
droogies, whatever you call them, told me I could find you here.
Look, I want my book back now, all right?
You are the girl who stole my book, are you not?
You're Bickford Shmeckler,
the man with the metaphorical headache.
And thank you, so much!
- For what? For what? God! - Inspiration.
God, I read your words, and look what exploded out of me.
I think this is my best work ever.
What's the black spot in the middle mean?
That's my clitoris.
It's a motif. I always put it somewhere in each of my paintings.
Do you like it?
Your clitoris?
No, the painting, silly.
It's, uh...
Look, Sara, I want my fucking book back, all right?
I'm sorry. I'm just a little too distracted right now
to do superficial stuff like look at art.
Mmm, well, distraction is a vibration
felt in the conscious mind, sent by the subconscious,
begging it, to pay attention.
It is a whisper from the mother of invention.
That's...
One of your cool ideas?
It's very bizarre to hear you say that.
Trent.
Meet my new friend, Bickford.
Craptastic.
How could you throw it away
after how much I told you it meant to me?
- I thought it sucked. - Oh, bullshit.
You're just jealous.
What did you expect when you told me you'd fuck the guy who wrote it?
- Fuck? - I didn't say it like that.
Yeah, you did, as a matter of fact.
"Ooh, ooh, his words are so orgasmic."
"My toes are just tingling."
Excuse him, he's an asshole.
Hey, asshole man! It's not here.
You positive this is the right can?
Yeah, that's it.
Then where's The Book?
Hey, I already apologized, like, a billion times.
- What do you want? - Justice! Come here.
Whoa, whoa, hey!
Wait. Hold on, man. Look, look, I got 200 bucks, okay?
Oh, Trent, don't go there.
That's mine?
Take it. Just, you know, buy another notebook
or diary or whatever and rewrite it.
Whoa, Bick!
Bick, hey, just... Wait.
This isn't about money, you smug, pretentious lemming.
I think I'm ruptured.
Well I got no more use for you.
Oh, Bick...
Come on, Bick. I didn't know he was going to throw it away.
It's not even really my fault.
Let me make it up to you.
Make it up to me! How?
You've destroyed my life.
You can't make it up to me. The Book is gone.
It's gone!
Gone!
♪ I'm going back Where I come from ♪
♪ I'm going back To Jive County ♪
Hello?
Ralph?
Hey, Bick.
Where are you? Out partying?
I'm in the basement.
That's 30 feet away. Why... Why are you calling me?
I just didn't feel like the hike is all.
I just want to express my gratitude, Ralph.
Hmm? For what?
I know you don't know me.
I've only been here a couple weeks.
But I... I appreciate the honest attempt you've made
to be kind to me.
But...
I'm going away...
For good.
What do you mean, "for good," Bick?
Bitch of it all is that I was almost finished.
Just looking for a way to tie it all together.
A summation, a final chapter, an end.
But now I just, I feel...
like I'm trapped in a Moebius strip.
What, what's a Moebius strip, Bick?
An infinite looping figure eight, Ralph.
Doomed to repeat the same things over and over throughout time indefinitely.
It's cool, actually, if you...
Never mind.
I'm going away, Ralph.
I'm gone.
So long, pal.
Bick, hey...
Bick. Bick.
One second!
Are you Bickford Shmeckler?
I'd like to speak to Sheldon Shmeckler, please.
Who may I tell him who's calling?
His son.
RALPH: Hey, Bick, someone's here to see you.
He says... He says he knows about The Book.
- Hello, Bickford. - He says he found it.
- Bickford? - Uh...
Bickford, hello?
Come on, Bick.
His name's Spaceman.
He's a homeless guy who hangs out in the quad and begs for quarters.
Everyone knows him.
He's a great Frisbee player.
Thank you.
We're Frisbee communicators.
Right, and you have The Book?
Just...
What's this?
You ripped out the first page?
Help us.
Help us, Bickford Shmeckler.
Only you could understand an extra-dimensional ship...
crashed into our temporal lobes, co-opting our sight,
sound perception, our motor skills, our most basic fundaments.
They give us horrible, horrible migraines.
He sounds a bit like you.
He's a severely delusional schizophrenic, Ralph.
He is? How do you know that?
Listen, Spaceman.
If you have my book, I want it back.
After.
First.
Listen.
That's free digital acoustic waves.
Is that some funky shit or what?
I'm lost, man.
Bickford Shmeckler, science and reason.
You understand.
To the stars...
we'll go.
They'll go.
Home.
I believe this deranged person wants me to get aliens out of his head.
That's it!
With your help, I can expurgate
- these extra-dimensionals. - Who?
The aliens in his head are extra-dimensionals.
Oh, no, no, okay. Yeah.
Spaceman, uh...
just give me The Book back.
- Then I'll help you. - No.
Fine, no help, and you're going to give me The Book back anyway.
Help us, or we'll burn it.
You wouldn't dare.
Try us.
- You wouldn't like us. - I'll call the police.
That won't save The Book.
God!
I'd say it's schizo's ball game.
Rob. Wait, Rob.
Let's... Let's... Let's talk.
Let's share some thoughts.
You mean, like, talk talk?
Yeah, yeah. Blow my mind.
Okay, cool.
- I can do that. - Okay.
Sara, you're so sexy.
You're on.
You're fuckably fuckalicious.
You got me hot as fuck.
You like talking dirty, don't you?
Oh, sweet tits.
No, no, no, Rob, no.
Talk, I mean, like a conversation.
I'll still be sexy later, I promise.
I thought you said you and Trent broke up.
Yeah.
Yeah, I...
Rob, I... This doesn't feel right anymore.
I can't do this.
Sara, you're the one that wanted to make out in the first place.
You seduced me.
Yeah.
Yeah, I guess I did.
I just...
I guess it's 'cause you're kind of hunky, and I thought this would be fun, but...
But what?
You're not fun.
I'm not fun?
No, no, not at all.
What do you mean? Like, my technique?
Yeah, that, and also you're just...
You make my skin crawl just being you.
That's devastating.
Yeah.
Well...
sorry.
Spaceman, regardless
of how I help you interpret this random collection
of scientific gobbledygook...
Gobbledygook.
Yeah, regardless of what we do...
Build a rocket ship, a time machine,
an atomic plasma-powered slingshot...
Good. That's good, atomic plasma...
That's excellent.
All right, whatever.
Those aliens are never going to leave your head,
because you're sick, mentally.
All right?
You need medication.
Do you mean drugs?
Yes, powerful psychiatric drugs.
Have you ever tried them?
Peridol, Zolam, lithium,
LSD, peyote.
Pretty girl. Pretty girl in a doily right behind you.
You.
Bick.
Contrary to what you obviously believe,
I am not void of emotions.
I've been feeling like crap for days.
And Ralph told me about The Book and Spaceman
- and this whole... - Expedition.
It's... This is an expedition.
Right.
So I just want you to know that I...
I can't express how sorry I am...
Not with words.
Draw us a diagram.
I'm involved in a Herculean struggle for sanity here, Sara.
I don't have time to deal with your pithy...
pith.
Quit punishing yourself for being a virgin.
It's the human condition.
We were all born virgins, and maybe you're just a late bloomer.
I was too, you know.
So that's my problem now, lack of sex?
That's it? Great. Great.
Thank you so much, Dr. Klepto.
That's his problem, definitely, sex.
Who asked you?
Bob, you dickfor.
It took me 20 minutes to set that dungeon.
You guys are not going to believe this.
You know Spaceman?
Yeah, that dude who hangs out in the dyad?
- Talks to aliens. - Plays Frisbee.
Yes, him. Okay.
He comes by the shack sometimes when I'm working, okay?
I give him, you know, broken stuff
like keyboards, remote controls.
Anyway, he knows me, and he trusts me, right?
Bob, we're mid-battle
with a lich, two Medusa,
and 40 skeleton warriors.
Thirty-one skeletons.
My sorceress destroyed nine with a fireball spell.
Listen to me.
Yesterday Spaceman comes into the shack with this book.
He says he wants me to hold on to it
for safekeeping, that people are after him.
You know, he'll come back for it.
I ask him if it's his diary.
He says, no, he found it in a garbage can.
Doesn't want to have it on him in case Interpol comes and shakes him down, right?
I had to have a peek.
It's unbelievable.
It's brain-melting, poetic...
It is the Communist Manifesto of cool ideas.
And, therefore, what?
I'm quitting the game.
Quitting? Why?
Wait, for good?
For the foreseeable future.
You know, after reading The Book,
Dungeons & Dragons just seems like a bunch of people, you know,
taking on imaginary roles.
- That's what it is. - BOB: Yeah.
But The Book, it makes life seem more interesting than D&D.
You can't quit.
Without your Elfin rogue-illusionist,
we're never going to make it to the next level.
You're... He's carrying the Wand of the Crimson Magi.
If you're out, I'm stealing that wand.
You cannot grave rob.
Yes, he can. He's chaotic neutral.
Read The Book, people.
If you don't agree that it is a veritable classic that,
but for the grace of God, whose...
existence The Book debates rather interestingly,
was saved from oblivion by Spaceman picking garbage,
I will... I will...
I'll buy you, each one of you, a ticket
for next week's Buffy and Xena convention.
I'm reading The Book.
Dibs on Buffy.
- Xena. - I'll get both of them.
- Let's do it. - You totally wish.
Just read The Book.
The Moon is 238,857 miles from Earth.
With the right lens, it looks like you could just reach out and touch it.
What I want you to do
is turn that telescopic view
inside your mind.
I want you to get a good beat on those aliens.
I want you to see them
and that extra-dimensional spaceship of theirs.
I want... I want you to reach in
and flick them.
You can't just flick a spaceship.
It's too heavy.
And the trajection wouldn't even be accurate.
The theory of meta-lunar clairvoyant projection is bunk.
Spaceman, I have been uber-patient with you, all right?
But I've had it.
I've had it! Had it, had it, had it, had it, all right?
And I've come to a decision that as far as I can see
is the only cogent way out of this predicament for me.
I want my book returned now, or I will kill you.
Do you understand that?
Even your strange brain can surely access
the instinct of self-preservation, man.
Use it.
If I give you your book back, you'll abandon us,
like everyone else has abandoned us.
Fine! Fine! Fine, fine!
All right, that's fine.
That's okay.
That's that, then.
The next time you see me,
I'll be stabbing you to death, all right?
All of you.
Bickford Shmeckler, we need your help.
You have to help us! Please don't leave us, Bickford!
Tired of thinking the same old shit?
Read The Book.
Are you looking for a new adventure?
Read The Book.
Look your mind's eye right in the face.
Get inspired. It's free.
Tired of the same old shit?
Take a copy, comrade.
The revolution begins in your imagination.
You don't say?
I do.
Get inspired.
Are you looking for a new adventure?
Are you tired of thinking the same old shit?
Oh, take a copy, brother.
Oh, you look a lost soul who could use it.
I'm busy. Move.
Take a copy. It's free.
It tickles the frontal lobe.
Dude, dude.
- Damn it. - Dude!
The world doesn't need any more self-important student poets.
Ha-ha, that's fucking... Cock.
Ah, I don't know.
- You were strong. - Yeah.
Good one.
Watch this special move.
What's that doing there, P.J.?
Jesus Christ, clean your shit up.
Where are the butcher knives?
I don't think we have any.
There's some steak knives in the drawer.
Steak knives are too small!
Ha!
This is perfect, it's fearsome.
Wait, wait, wait. Bick, you're not thinking of...
What are you thinking?
You wouldn't know it to look at me, Ralph,
but I'm a murderer, a cold-blooded ax-man.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
If Spaceman doesn't give me The Book back, I swear to God...
Okay, whoa, whoa, Bick! Bick, whoa!
Slow, slow.
Do the math, all right?
- Now... - Ha!
You threaten Spaceman with that turkey fork, right?
You ask him for The Book, and he refuses.
And he will refuse, because he's...
deranged, what then?
Then he gets a free tracheotomy.
And The Book? What about The Book? What about The Book?
He's the only person who knows where it is.
You'll never find it again.
And you'll go to jail.
It's a credible threat, Ralph.
Mutual assured destruction.
If it helped to stop a nuclear war with the Soviet Union,
surely Spaceman's going to understand that...
Spaceman isn't going to understand shit.
No, he won't.
Goddamn tyranny of logic.
Hello.
Hi.
I'm Trent Masterton to see Sara Witt.
You're Trent. Hmm.
The poser boyfriend.
She called me a poser?
Among other things.
Also a four-letter word for...
Penis.
Okay, all right. Is Sara in or not?
Maybe.
Okay, well, could you at least make sure she gets this?
- Please? - What's in it?
None of your beeswax.
Is it expensive?
Looks good. Let me see.
Hey, can you give the box to Sara, please?
Sure.
We'll get it to her.
Take care. Bye-bye.
Hey!
She better get that!
Did you know that the Sun...
is going to implode and take out the entire solar system...
and all of humanity with it?
- I heard that. - Yeah.
Doesn't that bother you?
Makes everything seem so futile.
Not really, no.
That's existentialism.
That's like your essence over existence.
Ideas like that make me feel sexy.
Then you gotta read this book.
Excuse me.
Does one use a withdrawal,
a deferment, or an incomplete form if one is flipping out
and one needs some time to get one's head together
and one doesn't want to stick his dad with a useless tuition bill?
You mean you need a medical leave?
Maybe.
[VELVETY PLAYING]
♪ Out on the Eisenhower Where I lost my speed ♪
♪ Just a little bit south Of a town called Weed ♪
♪ I heard a voice And I had to stop ♪
♪ She called me Over that mountain top ♪
♪ I was a poor soul lost In the shady trees ♪
♪ I was going to die I was going to freeze ♪
♪ Then she touched me ♪
♪ She was velvety ♪
♪ She'll never tell ♪
♪ She made the strangest sounds
Read The Book.
Take it. Put it in your cranium.
Look your mind's eye right in the face, huh?
What does it mean? Read The Book.
Read The Book, buddy. Read The Book.
Come on, people. Read it.
Hey, read The Book!
The Book? No.
May I help you?
Popsicle?
Malt cup?
Frog on a stick?
Laced!
That asshole laced my stuff!
Help!
Hey, I need help. I am hallucinating.
Call 911.
Our senses work in spectrums, all right?
Take sight, for example.
Your eyes can only see energy in the visible light spectrum.
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.
Yeah like a prism, I understand.
All right. Those colors you can see are only an infinitesimal fraction
of the energy spectrums that actually exist.
It's the same with sound, taste, smell, touch, everything.
We exist in this narrow band of perception.
All right? It makes something as simple as just thinking clearly,
frankly, impossible.
And that's why you're withdrawing from school,
because of this, what, cosmic intruding stuff?
Well, I mean, there are other mitigating factors,
but those are harder to explain.
Okay.
Bickford.
I think I know why you're upset and...
it's got nothing to do with your book.
Enlighten me.
I mean,
I've had feelings of loneliness too...
you know, and...
anxiety, or...
- Hate. I mean... - Hate?
And I have to tell you. I feel safe in telling you, okay, that...
You look at yourself in the mirror, okay? Really look closely.
I bet...
I bet you see someone who looks...
a lot,
emotionally... like me.
Someone who's gay.
You're gay?
Oh, yeah.
Haven't you ever noticed that...
some guys just
look really...
really good?
You think that I'm...
Like you?
Why not?
There's millions of us.
Come on. No, there are millions.
We're not alone.
Ralph, uh...
I wasn't... born in the way that I would have to be born
to do the things that you're, uh... proposing.
Bick, it's Sara...
- the klepto. - I should...
You're not going to believe this, but...
I found your book.
Oh, I'm sorry, Ralph. I've got to get that.
Sara? It's Bick.
You've, she found the book.
Where are you?
Really?
Oh.
Uh, can we use your car to go pick Sara up from the hospital?
The hospital?
Yeah, apparently she got some sort of drug-induced psychotic episode.
Yeah, okay I'll drive.
[LAZY FLIES PLAYING]
♪ Lazy flies All hovering above ♪
♪ The magistrate He puts on his gloves ♪
♪ And he looks to the clouds ♪
♪ All pink and disheveled ♪
♪ There must be Some blueprints ♪
♪ Some creed of the devil Inscribed in our minds ♪
♪ A hideous game ♪
♪ Vanishes in thin air The vanity of slaves ♪
♪ Who wants to be there To sweep the debris ♪
♪ To harness dead horses To ride in the sun? ♪
♪ A life of confessions Written in the dust ♪
♪ Out in the mangroves The myna birds cry ♪
♪ In the shadows of sulfur The trawlers drift by ♪
♪ They're chewing dried meat In a house of disrepute ♪
♪ The dust of opiates And syphilis patients ♪
♪ On brochure vacations ♪
♪ Fear has a glare ♪
♪ That traps you Like searchlights ♪
♪ The puritans stare ♪
♪ Their souls are fluorescent ♪
♪ The skin of a robot vibrates With pleasure ♪
♪ Matrons and gigolos carouse In the parlor ♪
♪ Their hand-grenade eyes... ♪
Look, if it's any consolation,
I haven't stolen anything in days.
Well, only one thing, but that was for art.
And I'm giving up pot too.
For a while...
at least until the end of the semester.
And then maybe I'll try it again.
Well...
I'm glad my misery has had such a positive effect on your life.
You're my hero.
It seems all here.
You like her, don't you?
Sara?
I mean, she's... she's a knockout.
You should go for it.
I mean, that. You should...
She totally violated me, Ralph.
I mean, she utterly destroyed any confidence I could ever have in her...
although she does keep kissing me.
Which is, frankly, pretty cool.
"Keeps"? What do you mean, "keep"? Like...
Like, she kissed you like that, like what I just saw, before?
Yes, once.
Only this time, it was more lingering,
and she threw in some tongue.
Pleasant surprise.
Her body is astounding.
Her mind is, like, perky, you know?
Listen, Ralph, I'm sorry I'm not, like you said, one of the millions.
Don't... Stop... Please... I...
I would have just broken your heart anyway, Bickford.
Oh, that's great.
Really great.
Just what the doctor ordered.
Now, if you'll excuse me. I'm gonna go kick some motherfucking ass.
See you later tiger.
[WALKIN' DOWN THE LINE PLAYING]
♪ Well, I'm walkin' Down the line ♪
♪ Yeah, I'm walkin' Down the line ♪
♪ Well, I'm walkin' Down the line ♪
♪ My feet'll be a-flyin' ♪
♪ To tell you 'Bout my troubled mind ♪
♪ On the corner was a man ♪
♪ On the corner was a man A shotgun in his hand ♪
♪ And I really didn't Understand ♪
♪ That's why I'm walkin' down the line ♪
♪ Well, I'm walkin' Down the line ♪
♪ My feet'll be a-flyin'... ♪
Hello?
Excuse me?
May I have your attention, please?
Uh, you got it.
Look, I'm Bickford Shmeckler.
I'm "Anonymous."
I know this guy. I know this guy.
You're the uh...
You're the poet-hater guy who hangs out in the quad with Spaceman, right?
Poet-hater, no. I'm a poet fan, believe you me.
But I'm the author of this book you scofflaws have been distributing.
You wrote The Book?
He wishes.
Yes, I wrote The Book. I can prove it.
I believe the book in your possession is missing its first page.
Let me see that.
It's the same handwriting.
Whoa.
Bickford Shmeckler? You're him?
You're the guy. You're the guy!
I thought you'd be more...
- Abbie Hoffman. - Yeah.
Want to hear some of our cool ideas? We got about nine pag... No? Okay.
They're not, you know, as cool as yours, but...
They're still fairly intensely thought-provoking and...
and mildly pleasurable.
We're more...
Socio-political, I guess.
But, you know, in the tradition of the great book.
If I could just lay this on you, if I may.
"Governments derive their power from the masses,"
"but when disenfranchised voters turn against the institutions,"
"which vest power in authority..."
Listen, numbskull. That sort of "we, the people" rap went out with Ben Franklin.
And I'm the one with the cool ideas here,
and you people are infringing on my copyrights.
I want my book back, now.
Plus, I insist you dimwits cease and desist
distributing my book immediately.
Anything less, and I'll return to your little shop here with a...
with a gas can and a box of matches.
Listen, you don't understand.
We're your biggest fans.
- Yeah. - Yeah.
This shop is ground zero for the reality revolution.
Reality...
All right, all right. That's it. I'm taking all this stuff.
Hats and T-shirts.
What the hell are those?
"Reality isn't" shot glasses.
Shot glasses?
You people are hopeless.
You know what? Here. You're not even cool.
Yeah, you're just some arrogant loser
who doesn't even comprehend merchandising.
Get this guy a box!
Take all this crap out of here.
I can't believe I quit D&D for you, man.
D&D?
I had the Wand of the Crimson Magi, but it doesn't matter.
Hey, Slim, hand me those mugs.
Gave it up for you, but whatever.
Why don't you get out?
Take it. Take it and get out.
Why don't you leave the store? How about that?
Whoa.
[I'M NOTHING PLAYING]
Dork.
♪ I-M-N-O-T-H-I-N ♪
♪ I'm nothing I'm nothing ♪
♪ Are you a Republican Or a Democrat ♪
♪ A liberal fascist Full of crap? ♪
♪ I'm nothing I'm nothing ♪
♪ Somebody somewhere Might be something ♪
♪ But everybody everywhere Knows that I'm nothing ♪
♪ Politics and dirty tricks ♪
♪ I got no time For stones and sticks ♪
♪ Politics and dirty tricks ♪
♪ I got no time I'm chasing chicks ♪
♪ I'm nothing I'm nothing ♪
♪ Somebody somewhere Might be something ♪
♪ But everybody everywhere Knows that I'm nothing ♪
♪ I'm nothing I'm like a cloud ♪
♪ I'm free to be alone In a crowd ♪
♪ What's your reality? ♪
♪ It's not real to me ♪
♪ What's your anomaly? ♪
♪ It is my destiny ♪
♪ I-M-N-O-T-H-I-N ♪
♪ I'm nothing ♪
♪ Nothing ♪
♪ Nothin' ♪
Wrong.
Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong!
Wrong.
[MAKE IT GOOD TO ME PLAYING]
♪ Let 'em talk ♪
♪ I don't care if it's right ♪
♪ You see The hour's getting late ♪
♪ If those two lips Are gonna resist me ♪
♪ You better come on, boy Come on over here ♪
♪ And kiss me, yeah... ♪
Before we get started, is...
Bickford Shmeckler in class today?
Bickford Shmeckler, are you here?
Bickford Shmeckler.
Present.
Will you please come see me after the lecture?
Okay.
Great.
Where are you off to now?
All right, I'll see you over there.
Professor Adams.
Bickford Shmeckler.
I did some research and discovered the anonymous young man who wrote this
remarkable book was none other than one of my very own students.
Bickford.
I had no idea anyone was paying attention...
Not in an undergraduate class, anyway.
Not at a level so penetrating,
profound, dare I say passionate?
Uh, Professor Adams.
Your class has nothing to do with why I wrote The Book.
I know all this fundamental stuff already.
I need the credits to graduate.
I know.
I'm pulling your leg.
I enjoyed your work so much, I took the liberty of passing it on
to a publisher friend of mine in New York.
What? No, you didn't.
- Yes, I did. - No.
Yeah, he loves it, and he wants to fly out here to meet you.
I think he wants to publish you.
And what exactly does that mean?
Well, it means that you owe me a very, very big favor.
You fascinate me.
All right, there it is. There it is.
Yup, there it is.
Oh, yeah. Get a good one.
Tip it. Did you get one?
- Ooh, yeah. - Yeah?
- Yeah. - Taste the juice?
- Pineapple. - Citrusy.
That's it. Hold it in.
Hey, Bick, want to join the party?
Eh.
"Eh."
The genie's out of the bottle.
The Book's out there, way out there.
Everything is becoming extremely tight, closing in.
You know Professor Adams? You're not going to believe...
Bick.
I'm all tapped out of compassion.
You got your book back, man.
Your nightmare, it's over.
Move on, please.
But you, I thought, were my friend.
Yeah, yeah, and as your friend,
I'm telling you, just be happy.
But happiness isn't just a switch in your head
that you can flip on at will.
Yes, it is.
Happiness is a switch? That's so uh...
Masturbatory.
Well, isn't masturbation one of the greatest inventions of all time?
Ralph, come on. I'm in crisis mode here.
All right. What's masturbatory...
is thinking all those heavy thoughts all day long.
There is no need to be so intense about everything, Bick.
You're living your book too much.
No, you just got to flip that switch and take some time and just...
Just chill.
Believe me, you need it, pal.
I'll catch you later.
You disappeared on us.
Uh, I constantly disappear and reappear.
It's a thing I do sub-atomically.
Yeah.
It's happened several times in this conversation already,
but it happened so fast, you couldn't perceive it.
My daughter disappeared similarly when she was four.
However, indefinitely.
You have a daughter?
I had a wife too...
they're both gone.
Science and reason, you understand, but they couldn't.
They can never understand this.
I don't understand shit, Spaceman.
How are the extra-dimensionals?
The extra-dimensionals need you back.
They want us to rescue them from the misery.
You can save us.
We need you to solve the problem.
You never call. You never write.
And then you just show up out of the blue.
You really are cultivating that whole mysterious guy thing, aren't you?
I just...
need to talk to someone.
Okay, Secret Agent man. What's the rumpus?
I, uh...
I think a publishing company in New York
wants to buy The Book as-is.
Wait, wait, wait, rewind.
Buy it? You mean publish The Book?
Yeah, I don't know...
I don't know all the details.
Some guy wants to meet me. He's flying out from New York.
Bick, that is so cool!
Yeah.
That is cool, isn't it?
I'm sorry. I need to go.
Bick, what is wrong?
Why did you even come here in the first place?
I, uh...
Whatever it is, it can't be that bad, can it?
I killed my mom, Sara.
What, honey?
I can't sell The Book. I only started it because of my mom.
You killed her?
No. How?
With a butcher's knife?
A butcher's knife?
Ralph told me about your episode with the turkey fork, and...
I killed my mom with a car, Sara.
It was like being in a blender.
The car flipped four times.
My mom died the next day at the hospital...
the other driver instantly.
And uh...
I didn't suffer a scratch.
It sounds like that accident wasn't even close to being your fault.
That's what I told myself.
I was stoic to the bone.
At her funeral...
I told my grandfather that
her death was proof of the old axiom, when your numbers up, your numbers up.
He looked at me like I was a ghost.
After a while...
I guess you could say...
I got deluded.
I thought that people thought I was speaking gibberish,
and when I heard them speak,
they just sounded like shallow, petty idiots.
Well, that wasn't your imagination, Bick.
People can be shallow, petty idiots.
It got so bad, I couldn't leave my apartment.
My...
textbooks would talk and sing to me.
And uh...
food in the refrigerator would become these, like, wild cartoons.
Trip out.
And there was a knock at the door.
It was my dad...
and some doctor guy from a mental institution.
And a cop... trained in the handling of psychotic individuals.
They forced you...
To a loony bin.
Yeah.
And that, Sara,
I have never told anyone.
And they gave me a notebook,
so I wrote.
And the more I wrote, the more refined my thoughts became.
Six weeks later, they let me out.
And a month after that, I showed up to school relaxed, rested,
and ready for action.
And then you stole my book.
I'm so sorry.
I just... I loved it.
And I'm so glad you got it back.
I'm going to end up like Spaceman.
No, I am.
Like Spaceman, homeless on some college campus,
collecting recyclables, begging for quarters,
and trying to expurgate extra-dimensionals from my head.
No, you're not mentally ill, Bick.
Not like that, not even close.
You're just...
An anxious, self-absorbed perfectionist.
All good qualities under different circumstances.
I don't know about that.
You know what you need?
An end to The Book?
No.
A new beginning.
♪ Da-da-da-dum ♪
This contract contains the terms we're willing to offer,
including a $20,000 advance against royalties,
a 10,000-copy first printing,
and a guarantee to market the book accordingly.
There's an awful lot of fine print.
Well, that's because we mean business.
Sir...
the only reason that I'm here is because...
Well, there's this girl who thought I would be a fool not to meet you.
He has a girlfriend.
Yeah, he's informed me.
Well, I just want to say, from the start...
The Book isn't finished.
Oh, of course.
No, it could use some editing.
But, Bickford, I want you to understand
I don't expect you to sign anything here and now.
Take the contract home.
Show it to your mom and dad, a lawyer.
You could even have a law student friend review it pro Bono.
Ah, I find this collegiate atmosphere very invigorating.
I also think, if you'll forgive me for being so forward...
But, hey, that's why I'm paid the big bucks.
You may want to give some thought
to finding a title other than The Book for the book.
Yeah.
It's, well, it's a tad pretentious.
And I fear people may mistake it for some kind of religious text.
How about Bickford Shmeckler's Cool Ideas?
'Cause you're Bickford, and it's your cool ideas.
Bickford Shmeckler's Cool Ideas.
I like it.
You know, Bick, if I'm reading this correctly,
when the book goes into second printing,
if it does, you could make out like a bandit.
I just can't stop thinking this is a bad idea.
It'd be dedicated to your mother.
Yeah, and she's really, what, going to enjoy spending the royalty checks?
You know, Bick, you should put a warning label on your book.
"Author full of a shit and doesn't understand one word of what he wrote."
Where are you going?
Oh, does it matter? I'm not even in this dimension, right?
Are you breaking up with me?
After six days, it's not called "breaking up," Bick.
It's called using your head and steering clear.
You're dumping me because I won't sell out to the lemmings.
How could you, of all people, be that materialistic?
I couldn't care less about the money, Bick.
You've written The Book.
It's finished.
It has been since I met you.
So deal with it.
Misery may love company, but I don't.
I like fun.
"Author full of shit."
"Warning. Warning. Author full of shit."
Huh?
Tell me, stranger,
do you doubt that you exist standing there, listening to my voice?
Uh...
- No? - Of course not.
Because, ultimately, that horny little artist girl is right.
I've been thinking my brain fried for two years, and now where am I?
Nowhere.
You hear that, God?
I've seen through your secret plan.
No matter how smart,
how clever we all think we are,
ultimately, we all know, I know nothing.
Shit!
There is no theory of everything.
We know nothing!
And anyone who thinks they need to know every single goddamn thing is a...
Dipshit.
If I let that girl walk out of my life...
You're the dipshit?
I'm the dipshit.
"Warning. Read at your own risk."
"The following ideas are dangerous and addictive."
"Repeated use can induce insomnia, delusional fantasy,"
"fits of libidinous frustration,"
- "and other psychiatric conditions." - Yeesh.
"When reading, place feet firm to the ground,"
"tongue firm to cheek,"
"and fasten your mental safety belt tightly."
"Above all, remember that as the fabric of reality"
"begins to rip around you"
"and uneasy feelings overtake your sense of self,"
"breathe deep and have fun."
Having fun.
Pure, unadulterated, high-octane physical sensation.
It's, like, the most important thing, and I forgot that.
So you're just giving us The Book?
On one condition.
That you keep giving it away for free.
I don't want anybody to profit off of it.
That's not The Book.
Which means, no merchandising.
- Sorry, Bob. - Well, I don't know...
Douche bag.
You see, he's got a contract.
The guy's blowing 20 grand on us, so...
Zip it.
I don't get it. Why would you give us The Book when it is obviously your life's work?
Yeah.
All I can say is, in the last couple weeks,
I had a life-changing, quasi-psychedelic epiphany.
And I got my fun back.
I had one of those, uh...
I had one of those epiphanies reading The Book.
But if you had one of those epiphanies and you wrote the book...
Oh, oh, that's a good one.
Oh, yeah.
What's wrong with them?
Huh! Brain-gasm.
That's the main reason right there
that The Reality Isn't Club was ten times more popular
than Advanced Dungeons & Dragons ever was.
This response actually happens
when people read The Book?
Ga!
Ha! Sometimes.
How utterly curious.
Just stop talking one moment, please.
You didn't know that happened?
I had no idea.
I didn't intend for people to ever read The Book.
But it escaped.
It had a will of its own, I guess.
My God!
Whoa.
So do we have a deal or what?
You betcha.
[JUST ONCE MORE PLAYING]
♪ My dear I've painted a picture ♪
♪ I've painted a picture For the questioned wall ♪
♪ I'll hang it up With the rest soon ♪
♪ Right up with the next few That come along ♪
♪ One more ♪
♪ There's room for just more ♪
♪ Once more, make room For just one more ♪
Dad, it's Bick. I had sex.
DAD: You had sex.
Yeah, a bunch of times.
I never knew what I was missing.
The human body is the most marvelous thing.
Well, that's good news, I guess.
And you're being... What's the expression? Safe?
Uh, yeah.
And everything else is okay.
Everything's awesome. Fundamentally.
That's awesome that it's awesome.
I gotta go.
Okay. Bye, Bick.
What are you writing?
An epic poem.
An epic sex poem.
About you.
It's kind of a sequel to The Book.
Is it a porno?
Actually now that you mention it...
yes.
But it's going to be smart and crazy subversive.
Ooh, I like crazy subversive.
[THE 59TH STREET BRIDGE SONG (FEELIN' GROOVY) PLAYING]
♪ Slow down You move too fast ♪
♪ You got to make The moment last ♪
♪ Just kicking down The cobblestones ♪
♪ Looking for fun and feeling groovy ♪
♪ Ba da-da da da da da Feeling groovy ♪
♪ Hello, lamp post ♪
♪ Whatcha knowing? ♪
♪ I've come to watch Your flowers growin' ♪
♪ Ain't ya got No rhymes for me? ♪
♪ Ba da-da da da da da Feeling groovy ♪
Ah-hoo!
♪ I got no deeds to do No promises to keep ♪
♪ I'm dappled and drowsy And ready to sleep ♪
Bye!
♪ Let the morning time drop All its petals on me ♪
♪ Life, I love you ♪
♪ All is groovy ♪
♪ Ba da da da Da da da da... ♪