Clerks

CUSTOMER: Pack of cigarettes. What's that?

ACTIVIST: This? How long have you been smoking?

CUSTOMER: Jesus!

ACTIVIST: It's a picture of a cancer-ridden lung. Keep it.

CUSTOMER: I'll just take the gum.

CUSTOMER: Well, if it's already too late...

ACTIVIST: It's never too late. Give those cigarettes back now, and buy some gum instead. Here. Chewlies Gum. Try this.

CUSTOMER: It's not the same.

ACTIVIST: It's cheaper than cigarettes. And it certainly beats this.

CUSTOMER: What's this?

ACTIVIST: It's a trach ring. It's what they install in your throat when throat cancer takes your voice box. This one came out of a sixty-year-old man.

CUSTOMER: Unnhh!

ACTIVIST: He smoked until the day he died. Used to put the cigarette in this thing and smoke it that way.

ACTIVIST: I'd say you're about nineteen, twenty, am I right?

CUSTOMER: What the hell is that?

ACTIVIST: That's your lung. By this time, your lung looks like this.

CUSTOMER: You're shittin' me.

ACTIVIST: You think I'm shitting you...

ACTIVIST: Are you sure?

CUSTOMER: Am I sure?

ACTIVIST: Are you sure?

CUSTOMER: Am I sure about what?

ACTIVIST: Do you really want to buy those cigarettes?

CUSTOMER: Are you serious?

ACTIVIST: How long have you been smoking?

CUSTOMER: What is this, a poll?

DANTE: That's it, everybody out.

ACTIVIST: We're not moving! We have a right, a constitutional right, to assemble and be heard!

DANTE: Yeah, but not in here.

ACTIVIST: What better place than this? To stamp it out, you gotta start at the source!

DANTE: Like I'm responsible for all the smokers!

ACTIVIST: The ones in this town, yes! You encourage their growth, their habit. You're the source in this area, and we're going to shut you down for good! For good, cancer-merchant!

DANTE: Hey, now wait a sec...

ACTIVIST: Now he's going to launch into his rap about how he's just doing his job; following orders. Friends, let me tell you about another bunch of hate mongers that were just following orders: they were called Nazis, and they practically wiped a nation of people from the Earth... just like cigarettes are doing now! Cigarette smoking is the new Holocaust, and those that partake in the practice of smoking or sell the wares that promote it are the Nazis of the nineties! He doesn't care how many people die from it! He smiles as you pay for your cancer sticks and says, "Have a nice day."

DANTE: I think you'd better leave now.

ACTIVIST: You want me to leave? Why? Because somebody is telling it like it is? Somebody's giving these fine people a wake-up call?!

DANTE: You're loitering in here, and causing a disturbance.

ACTIVIST: You're the disturbance, pal! And here... I'm buying some... what's this?... Chewlie's Gum. There. I'm no longer loitering. I'm a customer, a customer engaged in a discussion with other customers.

DANTE: Maybe you should take that coffee outside.

ACTIVIST: No, I think I'll drink it in here, thanks.

DANTE: If you're going to drink it in here, I'd appreciate it if you'd not bother the customers.

ACTIVIST: Okay. I'm sorry about that.

DANTE: Fifty-five.

ACTIVIST: You've made a wise choice. Keep up the good work.

DANTE: Excuse me, but...

ACTIVIST: This is where you're heading. A cruddy lung, smoking through a hole in your throat. Do you really want that?

DANTE: Beats me.

ACTIVIST: How long have you been a smoker?

DANTE: Thanks. Have a good one.

ACTIVIST: Do you mind if I drink this here?

DANTE: Sure. Go ahead.

RANDAL: Why?

CAITLIN: No, don't!

RANDAL: Nobody! I swear!

CAITLIN: I feel nauseous.

RANDAL: I was here the whole time.

CAITLIN: You two better quit it.

RANDAL: Am I missing something here?

CAITLIN: I went back there, and Dante was already waiting for me.

RANDAL: He was?

CAITLIN: It was so cool. He didn't say a word. He was just... ready, you know? And we didn't kiss or talk or anything. He just sat there and let me do all the work.

RANDAL: You dog! I didn't see you go back there.

RANDAL: Hey Caitlin... Break his heart again this time, and I'll kill you. Nothing personal.

CAITLIN: You're very protective of him, Randal. You always have been.

RANDAL: Territoriality. He was mine first.

CAITLIN: Awww. That was so cute.

CAITLIN: Randal Graves-scourge of the video renter.

RANDAL: Ladies and gentleman, Mrs. Asian Design Major herself: Caitlin Bree!

CAITLIN: You saw that article? God, isn't it awful? My mother sent that in.

RANDAL: I take it she likes the guy.

CAITLIN: You'd think she was marrying him. What are you watching?

RANDAL: Children's programming. What did your mom say when you told her you weren't engaged anymore?

CAITLIN: She said not to come home until graduation.

RANDAL: Wow, you got thrown out? For Dante?

CAITLIN: What can I say? He does weird things to me.

RANDAL: Can I watch?

CAITLIN: You can hold me down.

RANDAL: Can I join in?

CAITLIN: You might be let down. I'm not a hermaphrodite.

RANDAL: Few are. So what makes you think you can maintain a relationship with Dante this time around?

CAITLIN: A woman's intuition. Something in me says it's time to give the old boy a serious try.

RANDAL: Wow. Hey, I was just about to order some dinner. You eat Chinese, right?

CAITLIN: Dick.

RANDAL: Exactly.

CAITLIN: So where is he?

RANDAL: He went home to change for the big date.

CAITLIN: God, isn't he great?

RANDAL: No, this is great.

CAITLIN: Can I use the bathroom?

RANDAL: There's no light back there.

CAITLIN: Why aren't there any lights?

RANDAL: Well, there are, but for some reason they stop working at five-fourteen every night.

CAITLIN: You're kidding.

RANDAL: Nobody can figure it out. And the boss doesn't want to pay the electrician to fix it, because the electrician owes money to the video store.

CAITLIN: Such a sordid state of affair.

RANDAL: And I'm caught in the middle-torn between my loyalty for the boss, and my desire to piss with the light on.

CAITLIN: I'll try to manage.

DANTE: There's a strange man in our bathroom, and he just raped Caitlin!

CAITLIN: Oh God...

CAITLIN: I can't believe this! I feel faint...

DANTE: Call the police.

DANTE: Are you sure somebody was back there?

CAITLIN: I didn't just fuck myself! Jesus, I'm going to be sick!

CAITLIN: Stop this. This isn't funny.

DANTE: I'm not kidding. I just got back from outside.

CAITLIN: This isn't fucking funny, Dante!

DANTE: I'm not fooling around! Who went back there?

DANTE: I'm serious.

CAITLIN: We didn't just have sex in the bathroom?

DANTE: No.

CAITLIN: And the fact that there weren't any lights made it so... God! That was so great!

DANTE: It wasn't me.

CAITLIN: Yeah, right. Who was it: Randal?

DANTE: Was it you?

CAITLIN: Promise me it'll always be like that.

DANTE: Like what?

CAITLIN: When you just lie perfectly still and let me do everything.

DANTE: Um... okay.

CAITLIN: How'd you get here so fast?

DANTE: I left like an hour ago.

CAITLIN: Do you always talk weird after you violate women?

CAITLIN: You're just going to lock the store like that?

DANTE: I want to talk to you about something, and I don't want to be disturbed.

CAITLIN: You saw it?

DANTE: Very dramatic, I thought.

CAITLIN: It's not what you think.

DANTE: What, it's worse? You're pregnant with an Asian design major's child?

CAITLIN: I'm not pregnant.

DANTE: Were you going to tell me or just send me an invitation?

CAITLIN: I was going to tell you. But then we were getting along so well, I didn't want to mess it up.

DANTE: You could've broke it to me gently, you know; at least started by telling me you had a boyfriend. I told you I have a girlfriend.

CAITLIN: I know, I'm sorry. But when we started talking... it's like I forgot I had a boyfriend. And then he proposed last month...

DANTE: And you said yes?

CAITLIN: Well... kind of, sort of?

DANTE: Is that what they teach you at that school of yours? Kind of, sort of? Everyone knows about this except me! Do you know how humiliating that is?

CAITLIN: I would've told you, and you would have stopped calling, like a baby.

DANTE: How do you know that?

CAITLIN: Because I know you. You prefer drastic measures to rational ones.

DANTE: So you're really getting married?

CAITLIN: No.

DANTE: No, you're not really getting married?

CAITLIN: The story goes like this: He proposed, and I told him I had to think about it, and he insisted I wear the ring anyway. Then my mother told the paper we were engaged.

DANTE: How like her.

CAITLIN: Then my mother called me this morning and told me the announcement was in the paper. That's when I hopped the train to come back here, because I knew you'd be a wreck.

DANTE: Thanks for the vote of confidence.

CAITLIN: Was I right?

DANTE: Wreck is a harsh term. Disturbed is more like it. Mildly disturbed even.

CAITLIN: I love a macho faade. It's such a turn-on. What smells like shoe polish?

DANTE: And you came here to what? To comfort me?

CAITLIN: The last thing I needed was for you to think I was hiding something from you.

DANTE: But you were.

CAITLIN: No, I wasn't. Not really. I told you'd I'd been seeing other people.

DANTE: Yeah, but not seriously. Christ, you're ready to walk down the aisle- I'd say that constitutes something more than just seeing somebody.

CAITLIN: I'm giving him his ring back.

DANTE: What?

CAITLIN: I don't want to marry him. I don't want to get married now. I'm on the verge of graduation. I want to go to grad school after this. And then I want to start a career. I don't want to be a wife first, and then have to worry about when I'm going to fit in all of the other stuff. I've come way too far and studied too hard to let my education go to waste as a housewife. And I know that's what I'd become. Sang's already signed with a major firm, and he's going to be pulling a huge salary, which would give me no reason to work, and he's so traditional anyway...

DANTE: Sang? His name is a past tense?

CAITLIN: Stop it. He's a nice guy.

DANTE: If he's so nice, why aren't you going to marry him?

CAITLIN: I just told you.

DANTE: There's more, isn't there?

CAITLIN: Why, Mr. Hicks-whatever do you mean?

DANTE: Tell me I don't have something to do with it.

CAITLIN: You don't have anything to do with it.

DANTE: You lie.

CAITLIN: Look how full of yourself you are.

DANTE: I just believe in giving credit where credit is due. And I believe that I'm the impetus behind your failure to wed.

CAITLIN: If I'm so nuts about you, then why am I having sex with an Asian design major?

DANTE: Jesus, you're caustic.

CAITLIN: I had to bring you down from that cloud you were floating on. When I say I don't want to get married, I mean just that. I don't want to marry anybody. Not for years.

DANTE: So who's asking? I don't want to marry you.

CAITLIN: Good. Stay in that frame of mind.

DANTE: But can we date?

CAITLIN: I'm sure Sang and-Veronica?-would like that.

DANTE: We could introduce them. They might hit it off.

CAITLIN: You're serious. You want to date again.

DANTE: I would like to be your boyfriend, yes.

CAITLIN: It's just the shock of seeing me after three years. Believe me, you'll get over it.

DANTE: Give me a bit more credit. I think it's time we got back together, you know. I'm more mature, you're more mature, you're finishing college, I'm already in the job market...

CAITLIN: You work in a market, all right.

DANTE: Cute. Tell me you wouldn't want to go out again. After all the talking we've been doing.

CAITLIN: The key word here is talk, Dante. I think the idea, the conception of us dating is more idyllic than what actually happens when we date.

DANTE: So... what? So we should just make pretend over the phone that we're dating?

CAITLIN: I don't know. Maybe we should just see what happens.

DANTE: Let me take you out tonight.

CAITLIN: You mean, on a date?

DANTE: Yes. A real date. Dinner and a movie.

CAITLIN: The Dante Hicks Dinner and a Movie Date. I think I've been on that one before.

DANTE: You have a better suggestion?

CAITLIN: How about the Caitlin Bree Walk on the Boardwalk, Then Get Naked Somewhere Kind of Private Date?

DANTE: I hear that's a rather popular date.

CAITLIN: Jerk. Here I am, throwing myself at you, succumbing to your wily charms, and you call me a slut, in so many words.

DANTE: What about Sing?

CAITLIN: Sang.

DANTE: Sang.

CAITLIN: He's not invited.

DANTE: He's your fianc.

CAITLIN: I offer you my body and you offer me semantics? He's just a boyfriend, Dante, and in case you haven't gotten the drift of why I came all the way here from Ohio, I'm about to become single again. And yes-let me placate your ego-you are the inspiration for this bold and momentous decision, for which I'll probably be ostracized at both school and home. You ask me who I choose, I choose you.

DANTE: So what are you saying?

CAITLIN: You're such an asshole.

DANTE: I'm just kidding.

CAITLIN: I can already tell this isn't going to work.

DANTE: I'll ask Randal to close up for me when he gets back.

CAITLIN: Where'd he go? I'd have thought he'd be at your side, like an obedient lapdog.

DANTE: He went to rent a movie, but he hasn't gotten back yet. Ah, screw it; I'll just lock the store up and leave him a note.

CAITLIN: You're too responsible. But no. I have to go home first. They don't even know I left school. And I should break the disengagement news to my mother, which is going to cause quite a row, considering she loves Sang.

DANTE: Who doesn't?

CAITLIN: Well, me I guess. So, I shall take my leave of you, but I will return in a little while, at which time-yes-I would love to go for dinner and a movie with you.

DANTE: What happened to the walk and the nakedness?

CAITLIN: I'm easy, but I'm not that easy. See you later, handsome.

CAITLIN: I just saw Alyssa's little sister outside. She was with Rick Derris.

DANTE: Let's not talk about that. How'd you get home?

CAITLIN: Train. It took eight hours.

DANTE: I can't believe you're here.

DANTE: When did you get back?

CAITLIN: Just now.

DANTE: My God. I haven't seen you since...

CAITLIN: Dante. You've got a customer.

DANTE: What about Caitlin?

CORONER: Shock trauma. She's going to need years of therapy after this. My question is, How did she come to have sex with the dead man?

DANTE: She thought it was me.

DANTE: Well he asked me for it!

CORONER: I can't say for certain until we get him back to the lab, but my guess is he was masturbating, his heart seized and he died. That's when the girl found him. Something smells like shoe polish.

DANTE: Was he alive when... Caitlin...

CORONER: No. I place the time of death at about three-twenty.

CORONER: Wait a second? Who was working here today?

DANTE: Just me.

CORONER: I thought you just said you played hockey and went to a funeral.

DANTE: We did.

CORONER: Then who operated the store?

DANTE: Nobody. It was closed.

CORONER: With this guy locked in?

DANTE: Everything happened at once. I guess I forgot he was back there.

DANTE: I don't know. He just came in and asked to use the bathroom.

CORONER: What time was this?

DANTE: Um... I don't know. What time did hockey end?

CUSTOMER: Pack of cigarettes. Congratulations. I saw that announcement in today's paper. She's marrying an Asian design major.

DANTE: So I'm told.

CUSTOMER: Excuse me, do you have...

DANTE: To the back, above the oil. How long are you staying?

CUSTOMER: I'M GONNA BREAK YOUR FUCKING HEAD! YOU FUCKING JERKOFF!

DANTE: Sir! Sir, I'm sorry! He didn't mean it! He was trying to get me.

CUSTOMER: Well, he missed!

DANTE: I know. I'm sorry. Let me refund your cigarette money, and we'll call it even.

CUSTOMER: This is the last time I ever come here. And if I ever see you again, I'm gonna break your fucking head open!

DANTE: My point is that you're a clerk, paid to do a job. You can't just do anything you want while you're working.

CUSTOMER: "Space Alien Revealed as Head of Time Warner; Reports Stock Increase." They print any kind of shit in these papers.

DANTE: They certainly do. Two fifty-five.

CUSTOMER: Are you open?

DANTE: Yes.

DANTE: That's easy to say from over here.

CUSTOMER: Give me a stick, pretty boy! I'll knock your fucking teeth out and pass all over your ass.

DANTE: Like you're better!

CUSTOMER: I can whip your ass.

DANTE: Who are you to make assessments?

CUSTOMER: I'll assess all I want!

CUSTOMER: What the fuck is this?! I want some service!

DANTE: In a second!

CUSTOMER: Fuck in a second! This is... Look at you! You can't even pass!

DANTE: I can pass!

CUSTOMER: How 'bout covering point!? You suck!

DANTE: If you can just wait a few more minutes.

CUSTOMER: Fuck that! I'm gonna break my crazy neck on this ladder!

CUSTOMER: This is the last time I come to this place.

DANTE: Excuse me?

CUSTOMER: Using filthy language in front of the customers... you should both get fired.

DANTE: We're sorry, ma'am. We got a little carried away.

CUSTOMER: Well, I don't know if sorry can make up for it. I found your remarks highly offensive.

CUSTOMER: Are you open?

DANTE: Yeah.

CUSTOMER: Pack of cigarettes.

RANDAL: What am I worried about? He'll probably be glad I started the ball rolling. All he ever did was complain about her anyway. I'm just looking out for his best interests. I mean, that's what a friend does, am I right? I did him a favor.

CUSTOMER: Oooh! Navy Seals!

CUSTOMER: You open?

RANDAL: Yeah.

CUSTOMER: Cute cat. What's his name.

RANDAL: Peptic ulcer.

CUSTOMER: I saw one, one time, that said the world was ending the next week. Then in the next week's paper, they said we were miraculously saved at the zero hour by a Koala-fish mutant bird. Crazy shit.

RANDAL: So I'm no more responsible for my own decisions while I'm here at work than, say, the Death Squad soldiers in Bosnia?

CUSTOMER: Pack of cigarettes.

RANDAL: What's your point?

CUSTOMER: Pack of cigarettes. Cute cat. What's its name?

RANDAL: Annoying Customer.

RANDAL: I work in a shitty video store. I want to go to a good video store so I can rent a good movie.

CUSTOMER: Are you open?

CUSTOMER: Awww, he's so cute. What's his name?

RANDAL: Lenin's Tomb.

RANDAL: All right, now if you're really feeling dangerous tonight, then Smokey and the Bandit Three is the movie you must rent.

CUSTOMER: This doesn't even have Burt Reynolds in it.

RANDAL: Hey, neither did ET; but that was a great movie, right?

SANFORD: Shit!

DANTE: We get... what... twelve minutes of game, and it's over? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!! I'm not even supposed to be here today!

DANTE: You only brought one ball?!

SANFORD: I thought Redding had like three balls!

DANTE: All right. Jesus, you fuckers are pushy.

SANFORD: Hey man, I hear Caitlin's marrying an Asian drum major.

SANFORD: Dante, let me grab a Gatorade.

DANTE: If you grab a Gatorade, then everybody's going to grab one.

SANFORD: So?

DANTE: So? So nobody's going to want to pay for these Gatorades.

SANFORD: What do you care? Hey, what smells like shoe polish?

DANTE: I've got a responsibility here. I can't let everybody grab free drinks.

SANFORD: What responsibility? You're closing the fucking store to play hockey.

DANTE: Do you work tomorrow?

RANDAL: Same time. What about you?

DANTE: I'm calling out. Going to hit the hospital-see how Caitlin is. Then try to see Veronica.

RANDAL: You wanna grab something to eat tomorrow night... after I get out of here?

DANTE: I'll call you. Let you know.

RANDAL: All right. Good luck with Veronica. If you want, I can talk to her, you know, and explain...

DANTE: No thanks. I'll take care of it. We've got a lot of shit to talk about.

RANDAL: Helluva day.

DANTE: To say the least.

RANDAL: Do you need a hug or something? 'Cause I would have no hang-ups about hugging you... you know, you being a guy and all. Just don't knead my ass when you do it.

DANTE: Get the fuck outta here already.

RANDAL: I'm gone. I'll talk to you tomorrow.

RANDAL: I threw out the stuff that got broken. The floor looks clean.

DANTE: You need a ride?

RANDAL: Got one. Just pulled up.

RANDAL: You still didn't have to choke me.

DANTE: Oh please! I'm surprised I didn't kill you.

RANDAL: Why do you say that?

DANTE: Why do I say that? Randal... forget it.

RANDAL: No, really. What did I do that was so wrong?

DANTE: What don't you do? Randal, sometimes it seems like the only reason you come to work is to make my life miserable.

RANDAL: How do you figure?

DANTE: What time did you get to work today?

RANDAL: Like ten after.

DANTE: You were over half an hour late. Then all you do is come over here.

RANDAL: To talk to you.

DANTE: Which means the video store is ostensibly closed.

RANDAL: It's not like I'm miles away.

DANTE: Unless you're out renting videos at other video stores.

RANDAL: Hermaphrodites! I rented it so we could watch it together!

DANTE: You get my slapped with a fine, you fight with the customers and I have to patch everything up. You get us chased out of a funeral by violating a corpse. To top it all off, you ruin my relationship. What's your encore? Do you anally rape my mother while pouring sugar in my gas tank? You know what the real tragedy is? I'm not even supposed to be here today!

RANDAL: Fuck you. Fuck you, pal. Listen to you trying to pass the buck again. I'm the source of all your misery. Who closed the store to play hockey? Who closed the store to attend a wake? Who tried to win back an ex- girlfriend without even discussing how he felt with his present one? You wanna blame somebody, blame yourself. "I'm not even supposed to be here today." You sound like an asshole. Whose choice was it to be here today? Nobody twisted your arm. You're here today of your own violation, my friend. But you'd like to believe that the weight of the world rests on your shoulders-that the store would crumble if Dante wasn't here. Well, I got news for you, jerk: This store would survive without you. Without me either. All you do is overcompensate for having what's basically a monkey's job: You push fucking buttons. Any moron can waltz in here and do our jobs, but you're obsessed with making it seem so much more fucking important, so much more epic than it really is. You work in a convenience store, Dante. And badly, I might add. And I work in a shitty video store. Badly, as well. You know, that guy Jay's got it right- he has no delusions about what he does. Us? We like to make ourselves seem so much better than the people that come in here, just looking to pick up a paper or-God forbid- cigarettes. We look down on them, as it we're so advanced. Well, if we're so fucking advanced, then what are we doing working here?

RANDAL: You didn't have to choke me.

DANTE: Why the fuck did you tell Veronica that I was going to dump her for Caitlin?

RANDAL: I thought I was doing you a favor.

DANTE: Thanks.

RANDAL: You were saying how you couldn't initiate change yourself, so I figured I'd help you out.

DANTE: Jesus.

RANDAL: How's your eye?

DANTE: The swelling's not so bad. But the FDS stings. How's your neck?

RANDAL: It's hard to swallow.

RANDAL: You should shit or get off the pot.

DANTE: I should shit or get off the pot.

RANDAL: Yeah, you should shit or get off the pot.

DANTE: What are you talking about?

RANDAL: I'm talking about this thing you have... this inability to improve your situation in life.

DANTE: Fuck you.

RANDAL: It's true. You'll sit there and blame life for dealing a cruddy hand, never once accepting the responsibility for the way your situation is.

DANTE: What responsibility?

RANDAL: All right, if you hate this job and the people, and the fact that you have to come in on your day off, then quit.

DANTE: As if it's that easy.

RANDAL: It is. You just up and quit. There are other jobs, and they pay better money. You're bound to be qualified for at least one of them. So what's stopping you?

DANTE: Leave me alone.

RANDAL: You're comfortable. This is a life of convenience for you, and any attempt to change it would shatter the pathetic microcosm you've fashioned for yourself.

DANTE: Oh, like your life's any better?

RANDAL: I'm satisfied with my situation for now. You don't hear me bitching. You, on the other hand, have been bitching all day.

DANTE: Thank you. Why don't you go back to the video store?

RANDAL: It's the same thing with Veronica.

DANTE: Leave her out of this.

RANDAL: You date Veronica because she's low maintenance and because it's convenient. Meanwhile, all you ever do is talk about Caitlin. You carry a torch for a girl you dated in high school-in high school for God's sake! You're twenty-two!

DANTE: Leave me alone.

RANDAL: If you want Caitlin, then face Veronica, tell her, and be with Caitlin. If you want Veronica, be with Veronica. But don't pine for one and fuck the other. Man, if you weren't such a fucking coward...

DANTE: ...If I wasn't such a fucking coward. It must be so great to be able to simplify everything the way you do.

RANDAL: Am I right or what?

DANTE: You're wrong. Things happened today, okay? Things that probably ruined my chances with Caitlin.

RANDAL: What? The dead guy? She'll get over fucking the dead guy. Shit, my mom's been fucking a dead guy for thirty years; I call him Dad.

DANTE: Caitlin and I can't be together. It's impossible.

RANDAL: Melodrama coming from you seems about as natural as an oral bowel movement.

DANTE: What do you want me to say? Yes, I suppose some of the things you're saying may be true. But that's the way things are; it's not going to change.

RANDAL: Make them change.

DANTE: I can't, all right! Jesus, would you leave me alone? I can't make changes like that in my life. If I could, I would-but I don't have the ability to risk comfortable situations on the big money and the fabulous prizes.

RANDAL: Who're you kidding? You can so.

DANTE: Jesus H. Christ, I can't!

RANDAL: So you'll continue being miserable all the time, just because you don't have the guts to face change?

DANTE: My mother told me once that when I as three, my potty lid was closed, and instead of lifting it, I chose to shit my pants.

RANDAL: Lovely story.

DANTE: Point is-I'm not the kind of person that disrupts things in order to shit comfortably.

RANDAL: That's all bullshit. You know what the real problem here is?

DANTE: I was born.

RANDAL: What? What's with you? You haven't said anything for like twenty minutes. What the hell is your problem?

DANTE: This life.

RANDAL: This life?

DANTE: Why do I have this life?

RANDAL: Have some chips; you'll feel better.

DANTE: I'm stuck in this pit, earning less than slave wages, working on my day off, dealing with every backward fuck on the planet, the goddamn steel shutters are locked all day, I smell like shoe polish, I've got an ex- girlfriend who's catatonic after fucking a dead guy, and my present girlfriend has sucked thirty-six dicks.

RANDAL: Thirty-seven.

DANTE: My life is in the shitter right about now, so if you don't mind, I'd like to stew a bit.

RANDAL: Around three or something.

DANTE: What time did we go to the funeral?

RANDAL: I think four.

RANDAL: She said she did all the work.

DANTE: WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP? WHO THE FUCK IS IN THE BATHROOM?

RANDAL: You just fucked a total stranger?

DANTE: Shut the fuck up!

RANDAL: Maybe the Asian design major slipped her some opium?

DANTE: Could be.

DANTE: Who eats cock?

RANDAL: Bunch of savages in this town. Hey, Caitlin's in the back. You might want to see if she's okay; she's been back there a long time.

DANTE: There's no lights back there.

RANDAL: I told her that. She said she didn't need any. Why don't you join her, man. Make a little bathroom bam-bam.

DANTE: I love your sexy talk. It's so... kindergarten: Poo-poo; wee-wee.

RANDAL: Fuck you.

RANDAL: I didn't think they even enforced this.

DANTE: Living proof.

RANDAL: I thought you never sold cigarettes to kids.

DANTE: I don't; you did.

RANDAL: Really?

DANTE: Little girl. Maybe five years old?

RANDAL: Holy shit. That girl?

DANTE: As opposed to the hundreds of other children you let buy cigarettes whenever you work here.

RANDAL: Then how come you got the fine?

DANTE: Because I'm here.

RANDAL: You're lying.

DANTE: I swear. I couldn't make this kind of hell up.

RANDAL: Then why aren't you like screaming at me right now?

DANTE: Because I'm happy.

RANDAL: You're happy?

DANTE: I'm happy.

RANDAL: You're happy to get a fine?

DANTE: No. I'm happy because Caitlin came to see me.

RANDAL: Now I know you're lying.

DANTE: I'm not. She just left.

RANDAL: What did she say?

DANTE: She's not going to marry that guy. She went home to tell her mother.

RANDAL: You're kidding.

DANTE: I'm not.

RANDAL: Wow. You've had quite an evening.

DANTE: She went home, she's getting ready, and we're going out.

RANDAL: I feel so ineffectual. Is there anything I can do for you?

DANTE: Watch the store while I go home and change.

RANDAL: What happened to title dictates behavior?

DANTE: This is my way of spitting water at life.

RANDAL: Hey, what about Veronica?

DANTE: No! Don't bring it up. I don't want to think about that now. Let me enjoy this hour of bliss. I'll think about all of that later. In the meantime, nobody mentions the V word.

RANDAL: You're a snake.

DANTE: In my absence, try not to sell cigarettes to any newborns.

RANDAL: You want me to bring the VCR over here so we can watch this?

DANTE: I might be leaving early to go out with Caitlin, in which case you'll have to close the store tonight.

RANDAL: All right, but you're missing out. Chicks with dicks.

DANTE: I'll read the book.

RANDAL: Get to work.

DANTE: What'd you rent? Best of Both Worlds?

RANDAL: Hermaphroditic porn. Starlets with both organs. You should see the box: Beautiful women with dicks that put mine to shame.

DANTE: And this is what you rented?

RANDAL: I like to expand my horizons.

DANTE: I got fined for selling cigarettes to a minor.

RANDAL: No way!

DANTE: Five hundred dollars.

RANDAL: You're bullshitting.

DANTE: What the fuck did you do that for?

RANDAL: Two reasons: one, I hate when the people can't shut up about the stupid tabloid headlines.

DANTE: Jesus!

RANDAL: And two, to make a point: title does not dictate behavior.

DANTE: What?

RANDAL: If title dictated my behavior, as a clerk serving the public, I wouldn't be allowed to spit a mouthful of water at that guy. But I did, so my point is that people dictate their own behavior. Hence, even though I'm a clerk in this video store, I choose to go rent videos at Big Choice. Agreed?

DANTE: You're a danger to both the dead and the living.

RANDAL: I like to think I'm a master of my own destiny.

DANTE: Please, get the hell out of here.

RANDAL: I know I'm your hero.

DANTE: That's stretching it. You're not being asked to slay children or anything.

RANDAL: Not yet.

RANDAL: So your argument is that title dictates behavior?

DANTE: What?

RANDAL: The reasons you won't let me borrow your car is because I have a title and a job description, and I'm supposed to follow it, right?

DANTE: Exactly.

RANDAL: You know what? I don't think I care for your rationale.

DANTE: It's going to have to do for now, considering that it's my car that's up for request. Can I help you?

DANTE: Can you imagine being halfway decent to the customers at least some of the time?

RANDAL: Let me borrow your car.

DANTE: May I be blunt with you?

RANDAL: If you must.

DANTE: We are employees of Quick Stop Convenience and RST video, respectively. As such, we have certain responsibilities which-though it may seem cruel and unusual-does include manning our posts until closing.

RANDAL: I see. So playing hockey and attending wakes-these practices are standard operating procedure.

DANTE: There's a difference. Those were obligations. Obligations that could not have been met at any later date. Now renting videos-that's just gratuitous, not to mention illogical, considering you work in a video store.

RANDAL: What's that for?

DANTE: You work in a video store!

RANDAL: Let me borrow your car.

DANTE: I don't want to talk to you.

RANDAL: Fine. Just lend me your car.

DANTE: Why should I loan you my car?

RANDAL: I want to rent a movie.

DANTE: You want to rent a movie.

DANTE: I can't fucking believe you!!

RANDAL: I'm telling you, it wasn't my fault!

DANTE: You knocked the fucking casket over, for Chrissakes!

RANDAL: I was just leaning on it! It was an accident!

DANTE: Does anyone ever knock over a casket on purpose?

RANDAL: So the casket fell over! Big deal!

DANTE: Her fucking body fell out!

RANDAL: So they'll put her back in! It's not like it's gonna matter if she breaks something!

DANTE: Just... go! Go open the video store.

DANTE: I know it was a bad idea to close the store.

RANDAL: Listen to you.

DANTE: I can't help it. At least when we were playing hockey outside, I could see if anyone wanted to go in.

RANDAL: Nobody's there. It's four o'clock on a Saturday. How many people ever come to the store at four on a Saturday?

DANTE: I could never reach.

RANDAL: Reach what?

DANTE: You know.

RANDAL: What, your dick?

DANTE: Yeah. Like you said, you know. I guess everyone tries it, sooner of later.

RANDAL: I never tried it.

DANTE: Shut the hell up.

RANDAL: Bible truth.

DANTE: Stop it.

RANDAL: I swear.

DANTE: Oh, my god.

RANDAL: Come on. Haven't you ever tried to suck your own dick?

DANTE: No!

RANDAL: Yeah sure. You're so repressed.

DANTE: Because I never tried to suck my own dick?

RANDAL: No, because you won't admit to it. As if a guy's a fucking pervert because he tries to go down on himself. You're as curious as the rest of us, pal. You've tried it.

DANTE: Who found him?

RANDAL: My cousin? My aunt found him. On his bed, doubled over himself with his legs on top. Dick in his mouth. My aunt freaked out. It was a mess.

DANTE: His dick was in his mouth?

RANDAL: Balls resting on his lips.

DANTE: He made it, hunhh?

RANDAL: Yeah, but at what a price.

RANDAL: She was pretty young, hunhh?

DANTE: Twenty-two; same as us.

RANDAL: An embolism in a pool.

DANTE: An embarrassing way to die.

RANDAL: That's nothing compared to how my cousin Walter died.

DANTE: How'd he die?

RANDAL: Broke his neck.

DANTE: That's embarrassing?

RANDAL: He broke his neck trying to suck his own dick.

RANDAL: You were saying?

DANTE: Thanks for putting me in a tough spot. You're a good friend.

DANTE: Oh, my god.

RANDAL: Sanford's brother dates her cousin. He found out this morning.

DANTE: How? When?

RANDAL: Embolism in her brain. Yesterday.

DANTE: Jesus.

RANDAL: She was swimming at the YMCA pool when it happened. Died mid-backstroke.

DANTE: I haven't seen her in almost two years.

RANDAL: Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't she one of the illustrious twelve?

DANTE: Number six.

RANDAL: You've had sex with a dead person.

DANTE: I'm gonna go to her wake.

RANDAL: No, you're not.

DANTE: Why not?

RANDAL: It's today.

DANTE: What!?

RANDAL: Paulsen's Funeral Parlor. The next show is at four.

DANTE: Shit. What about tomorrow?

RANDAL: One night only. She's buried in the morning.

DANTE: You've gotta watch the store. I have to go to this.

RANDAL: Wait, wait, wait. Has it occurred to you that I might bereaved as well?

DANTE: You hardly knew her!

RANDAL: True, but do you know how many people are going to be there? All of our old classmates, to say the least.

DANTE: Stop it. This is beneath even you.

RANDAL: I'm not missing what's probably going to be the social event of the season.

DANTE: You hate people.

RANDAL: But I love gatherings. Isn't it ironic?

DANTE: Don't be an asshole. Somebody has to stay with the store.

RANDAL: If you go, I go.

DANTE: She meant nothing to you!

RANDAL: She meant nothing to you either until I told you she died.

DANTE: I'm not taking you to this funeral.

RANDAL: I'm going with you.

DANTE: I can't close the store.

RANDAL: You just closed the store to play hockey on the roof!

DANTE: Exactly, which means I can't close it for another hour so we can both go to a wake.

RANDAL: You know what Sanford told me?

DANTE: I still can't believe Caitlin's getting married.

RANDAL: Julie Dwyer died.

DANTE: Yeah, right.

RANDAL: No, I'm serious.

RANDAL: What happened to all the Gatorade?

DANTE: Exactly. They drank it all.

RANDAL: After an exhausting game like that I can believe it.

DANTE: "It's not like we're gonna sell out."

RANDAL: Helluva game!

DANTE: One ball!! They come all the way here... I close the damn store... for one ball!

RANDAL: Hockey's hockey. At least we got to play.

DANTE: Randal, twelve minutes is not a game! Jesus, it's barely a warm-up!

RANDAL: Bitch, bitch, bitch. You want something to drink?

DANTE: Gatorade.

RANDAL: Are you gonna lock the store?

DANTE: I don't know. You going to lock the video store?

RANDAL: Look who you're asking here. How're we gonna block off the street?

DANTE: We're not playing in the street.

RANDAL: Then where're we gonna play?

RANDAL: Design major.

DANTE: Can we not talk about this?

RANDAL: He's blunt, but he's got a point.

DANTE: At least let me maintain some semblance of managerial control here.

DANTE: Pull my laces tighter.

RANDAL: I've gotta tell you, my friend: this is one of the ballsiest moves I've ever been privy to. I never would have thought you capable of such blatant disregard of store policy.

DANTE: I told him I had a game today. It's his own fault.

RANDAL: No argument here. Insubordination rules.

DANTE: I just want to play hockey like I was scheduled to.

RANDAL: Vermont?

DANTE: Can you believe this?!

RANDAL: He didn't mention it when he called you this morning?

DANTE: Not a fucking word! Slippery shit!

RANDAL: So, what-you're stuck here all day?

DANTE: FUCK!

RANDAL: Why'd you apologize?

DANTE: What?

RANDAL: I heard you apologize. Why? You have every right in the world to be mad.

DANTE: I know.

RANDAL: That seems to be the leitmotif in your life; ever backing down.

DANTE: I don't back down.

RANDAL: Yes, you do. You always back down. You assume blame that isn't yours, you come in when called as opposed to enjoying your day off, you buckle like a belt.

DANTE: You know what pisses me off the most?

RANDAL: The fact that I'm right about your buckling?

DANTE: I'm going to miss the game.

RANDAL: Because you buckled.

DANTE: Would you shut the hell up with that shit? It's not helping.

RANDAL: Don't yell at me, pal.

DANTE: Sorry.

RANDAL: See? There you go again.

DANTE: I can't believe I'm going to miss the game!

RANDAL: At least we're stuck here together.

DANTE: You've got a customer.

DANTE: Can you come next door? I gotta make a phone call.

RANDAL: Smokey Three: thumbs up, am I right?

DANTE: The best Burtless movie ever made.

RANDAL: Thirty-seven!

DANTE: Shut up! Yes, I've calmed down, I'm still not happy about it, but I've been able to deal.

DANTE: No.

RANDAL: Why not?

DANTE: Because my ex-girlfriend is getting married.

RANDAL: Jesus, you got a one-track mind. It's always Caitlin, Caitlin, Caitlin...

DANTE: Veronica!

DANTE: The women that go through every gallon of milk looking for a later date. As if somewhere-beyond all the other gallons-is a container of milk that won't go bad for like a decade.

RANDAL: You know who I can do without? I could do without the people in the video store.

DANTE: Which ones?

RANDAL: All of them.

DANTE: Why do you do things like that? You know she's going to come back and tell the boss.

RANDAL: Who cares? That lady's an asshole. Everybody that comes in here is way too uptight. This job would be great if it wasn't for the fucking customers.

DANTE: I'm gonna hear it tomorrow.

RANDAL: You gotta loosen up, my friend. You'd feel a hell of a lot better if you'd rip into the occasional customer.

DANTE: What for? They don't bother me if I don't bother them.

RANDAL: Liar! Tell me there aren't customers that annoy the piss out of you on a daily basis.

DANTE: There aren't.

RANDAL: How can you lie like that? Why don't you vent? Vent your frustration. Come on, who pisses you off?

DANTE: It's not really anyone per se, it's more of separate groupings.

RANDAL: Let's hear it.

DANTE: The milkmaids.

RANDAL: The milkmaids?

RANDAL: Oh, it's great. You step into this little booth and there's this window between you and this naked woman, and she puts on this little show for like ten bucks.

DANTE: What kind of show?

RANDAL: Think of the weirdest, craziest shit you'd like to see chicks do. These chicks do it all. They insert things into any opening in their body... any opening. He's led a very sheltered life.

DANTE: Can we talk about this later?

RANDAL: The jizz-mopper's job is to clean up the booths afterward, because practically everybody shoots a load against the window, and I don't know if you know or not, but cum leaves streaks if you don't clean it right away.

DANTE: Did you ever notice all the prices end in nine? Damn, that's eerie.

RANDAL: You know how much money the average jizz-mopper make per hour?

DANTE: What's a jizz-mopper?

RANDAL: He's the guy in those nudie-booth joints who cleans up after each guy that jerks off.

DANTE: Nudie booth?

RANDAL: Nudie booth. You've never been in a nudie booth?

DANTE: I guess not.

RANDAL: What did he say?

DANTE: He said it was important to have standards. He said nobody has pride anymore.

RANDAL: It's not like you laid the eggs yourself.

DANTE: I'll give him five more minutes then I'm calling the cops. I don't need this, man. I'm not even supposed to be here today.

RANDAL: Why doesn't he just mix and match?

DANTE: I told him that and he yelled at me.

RANDAL: What's he looking for?

DANTE: He said he has to find a perfect dozen.

RANDAL: Perfect dozen.

DANTE: Each egg has to be perfect.

RANDAL: The quest isn't going well?

DANTE: Obviously not. Look at all the cartons that didn't make the grade.

RANDAL: You'll never believe what this unruly customer just said...

DANTE: Wait.

RANDAL: She's in here?

DANTE: This guy is going through all of the eggs. Look.

RANDAL: You know what else I noticed in Jedi?

DANTE: There's more?

RANDAL: So they build another Death Star, right?

DANTE: Yeah.

RANDAL: Now the first one they built was completed and fully operational before the Rebels destroyed it.

DANTE: Luke blew it up. Give credit where it's due.

RANDAL: And the second one was still being built when they blew it up.

DANTE: Compliments of Lando Calrissian.

RANDAL: Something just never sat right with me the second time they destroyed it. I could never put my finger on it-something just wasn't right.

DANTE: And you figured it out?

RANDAL: Well, the thing is, the first Death Star was manned by the Imperial army- storm troopers, dignitaries-the only people onboard were Imperials.

DANTE: Basically.

RANDAL: So when they blew it up, no prob. Evil is punished.

DANTE: And the second time around...?

RANDAL: The second time around, it wasn't even finished yet. They were still under construction.

DANTE: So?

RANDAL: A construction job of that magnitude would require a helluva lot more manpower than the Imperial army had to offer. I'll bet there were independent contractors working on that thing: plumbers, aluminum siders, roofers.

DANTE: Not just Imperials, is what you're getting at.

RANDAL: Exactly. In order to get it built quickly and quietly they'd hire anybody who could do the job. Do you think the average storm trooper knows how to install a toilet main? All they know is killing and white uniforms.

DANTE: All right, so even if independent contractors are working on the Death Star, why are you uneasy with its destruction?

RANDAL: All those innocent contractors hired to do a job were killed- casualties of a war they had nothing to do with. All right, look-you're a roofer, and some juicy government contract comes your way; you got the wife and kids and the two-story in suburbia-this is a government contract, which means all sorts of benefits. All of a sudden these left-wing militants blast you with lasers and wipe out everyone within a three-mile radius. You didn't ask for that. You have no personal politics. You're just trying to scrape out a living.

DANTE: What's that?

RANDAL: All right, Vader's boss...

DANTE: The Emperor.

RANDAL: Right, the Emperor. Now the Emperor is kind of a spiritual figure, yes?

DANTE: How do you mean?

RANDAL: Well, he's like the pope for the dark side of the Force. He's a holy man; a shaman, kind of, albeit an evil one.

DANTE: I guess.

RANDAL: Now, he's in charge of the Empire. The Imperial government is under his control. And the entire galaxy is under Imperial rule.

DANTE: Yeah.

RANDAL: Then wouldn't that logically mean that it's a theocracy? If the head of the Empire is a priest of some sort, then it stands to reason that the government is therefore one based on religion.

DANTE: It would stand to reason, yes.

RANDAL: Hence, the Empire was a fascist theocracy, and the rebel forces were therefore battling religious persecution.

DANTE: More or less.

RANDAL: The only problem is that at no point in the series did I ever hear Leia or any of the rebels declare a particular religious belief.

DANTE: I think they were Catholics.

DANTE: Do you know that article is accurate? Caitlin's really getting married!

RANDAL: You know what I just watched?

DANTE: Me pulling a can off some moron's fist.

RANDAL: Return of the Jedi.

DANTE: Didn't you hear me? Caitlin really is getting married.

RANDAL: Which did you like better: Jedi or The Empire Strikes Back.

DANTE: Empire.

RANDAL: Blasphemy.

DANTE: Empire had the better ending: Luke gets his hand cut off, and finds out Vader's his father; Han gets frozen and taken away by Boba Fett. It ends on such a down note. And that's life-a series of down endings. All Jedi had was a bunch of Muppets.

RANDAL: There was something else going on in Jedi. I never noticed it until today.

DANTE: You don't want to know.

RANDAL: You called Caitlin again?

DANTE: She called me.

RANDAL: Did you tell Veronica?

DANTE: One fight a day with Veronica is about all I can stomach, thanks.

RANDAL: What do you two fight about?

DANTE: I guess it's not really fighting. She just wants me to leave here, go back to school, get some direction.

RANDAL: I'll bet the most frequent topic of arguments is Caitlin Bree.

DANTE: You win.

RANDAL: I'm going to offer you some advice, my friend: let the past be the past. Forget Caitlin Bree. You've been with Veronica for how long now?

DANTE: Seven months.

RANDAL: Chick's nuts about you. How long did you date Caitlin?

DANTE: Five years.

RANDAL: Chick only made you nuts. She cheated on you how many times?

DANTE: Eight and a half.

RANDAL: Eight and a half?

DANTE: Party at John K's-senior year. I get blitzed and pass out in his bedroom. Caitlin comes in and dives all over me.

RANDAL: That's cheating?

DANTE: In the middle of it, she calls me Brad.

RANDAL: She called you Brad?

DANTE: She called me Brad.

RANDAL: That's not cheating. People say crazy shit during sex. One time, I called this girl "Mom."

DANTE: I hit the lights and she freaks. Turns out she thought I was Brad Michaelson.

RANDAL: What do you mean?

DANTE: She was supposed to meet Brad Michaelson in a bedroom. She picked the wrong one. She had no idea I was even at the party.

RANDAL: Oh, my God.

DANTE: Great story, isn't it?

RANDAL: That girl was vile to you.

DANTE: Interesting postscript to that story: Do you know who wound up going with Brad Michaelson in the other dark bedroom?

RANDAL: Your mother.

DANTE: Allan Harris.

RANDAL: Chess team Allan Harris?!

DANTE: The two moved to Idaho together after graduation. They raise sheep.

RANDAL: That's frightening.

DANTE: It takes different strokes to move the world.

RANDAL: In light of this lurid tale, I don't see how you could even romanticize your relationship with Caitlin-she broke your heart and inadvertently drove men to deviant lifestyles.

DANTE: Because there was a lot of good in our relationship.

RANDAL: Oh yeah.

DANTE: I'm serious. Aside from the cheating, we were a great couple. That's what high school's all about-algebra, bad lunch, and infidelity.

RANDAL: You think things would be any different now?

DANTE: They are. When she calls me now, she's a different person-she's frightened and vulnerable. She's about to finish college and enter the real world. That's got to be scary for anyone.

RANDAL: Oh shit, I've got to place an order.

DANTE: I'm talking to myself here.

RANDAL: No, no, I'm listening. She's leaving college, and...?

DANTE: ...and she's looking to me for support. And I think that this is leading our relationship to a new level.

RANDAL: What about Veronica?

DANTE: I think the arguments Veronica and I are having are some kind of manifestation of a subconscious desire to break away from her so that I can pursue the possibility of a more meaningful relationship with Caitlin.

RANDAL: Caitlin's on the same wave-length?

DANTE: I think it's safe to say yes.

RANDAL: Then I think all four of you had better sit down and talk it over.

DANTE: All four?

RANDAL: You, Veronica, Caitlin... ...and Caitlin's fianc.

RANDAL: Want something to drink? I'm buying.

DANTE: No, thanks.

RANDAL: Who was on your phone this morning at about two-thirty? I was trying to call for a half an hour.

DANTE: Why?

RANDAL: I wanted to use your car.

RANDAL: Some guy just came in refusing to pay late fees. He said the store was closed for two hours yesterday. I tore up his membership.

DANTE: Shocking abuse of authority.

RANDAL: I'm a firm believer in the philosophy of a ruling class, especially since I rule. Is the Pelican flying?

DANTE: Don't screw with it. It makes us look suspicious.

RANDAL: I can't stand a voyeur. I'll be back.

RANDAL: What time do you have to stay till?

DANTE: He assured me that he'd be here by twelve.

RANDAL: What smells like shoe polish?

DANTE: Go open the sore.

DANTE: You're late.

RANDAL: What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were playing hockey at one.

DANTE: The boss called. Arthur fell ill.

RANDAL: Why are the shutters closed?

DANTE: Someone jammed gum in the locks.

RANDAL: Bunch of savages in this town.

DANTE: That's what I said.

RANDAL: Shit, if I'd known you were working, I would've come even later.

HEATHER: I'm surprised you never found out about it, Dante. Everybody in school knew-even in my class.

DANTE: Jesus Christ, what next?

HEATHER: I still remember Caitlin telling us about that time you two went to that motel-the one with the mirrors and the hot tub in the room.

DANTE: THE GLADES MOTEL?

DANTE: You know him?

HEATHER: Caitlin used to talk about him all the time.

DANTE: Do I know you?

HEATHER: You remember Alyssa Jones? She hung out with...

DANTE: Caitlin Bree. Yeah?

HEATHER: I'm her sister.

DANTE: You're Alyssa's sister? Heather?

HEATHER: Yep. I remember you got caught in my parents' room with Caitlin once.

HEATHER: He's got those love handles.

DANTE: I don't have love handles.

HEATHER: I'd say about sixty, seventy-tops.

DANTE: I know I can bench more than that!

HEATHER: Are you open?

DANTE: Yes.

HEATHER: Just the paper.

DANTE: Thirty-fire.

DANTE: But I didn't sell cigarettes to any kids! Hey!

TRAINER: Forget it. I don't want to deal with a guy that sells cigarettes to a five-year-old. Can I offer you a ride somewhere?

DANTE: What? When? When did all this shit happen?

TRAINER: Hey man, that was a long time ago. Don't let it get to you.

DANTE: Wait a second! You used to sleep with Caitlin Bree? While I was dating her?

TRAINER: All the time. That girl was like a rabbit.

DANTE: I... I don't believe this...

DANTE: What?

TRAINER: While you two were dating in high school. We're talking four, five years ago, back when I drove a Trans- Am.

TRAINER: Did you say Caitlin Bree?

DANTE: Yeah.

TRAINER: Pretty girl, about this girl's height- dark hair-gorgeous body?

DANTE: Yeah?

TRAINER: And your name is Dante Hicks? You went to high school with her? You played hockey?

DANTE: How do you know that?

TRAINER: Oh man! Hey, you still going out with her?

DANTE: No, she's getting married.

TRAINER: To you?

DANTE: Oh for God's sake!

TRAINER: See? You're ashamed. You know you're out of shape. Take my card. I can help you tone that body up in no time. Get you on an aerobics and free-weights program.

DANTE: I am not.

TRAINER: How much can you bench?

DANTE: I don't know.

TRAINER: Sounds to me like somebody needs to hit the gym.

DANTE: Excuse me?

TRAINER: I heard you strain when you put the milk in the bag. That milk only weighs about seven pounds.

DANTE: I didn't strain. I sighed.

TRAINER: I don't think so. That was a grunt; a deep inhalation of oxygen to aid in the stretching of muscles. I'm a trainer. I know what that sound signifies: you're out of shape.

DANTE: I don't think so.

TRAINER: Oh, I do. You made the same noise when you reached across the counter for my cash. Your muscles are thin and sadly underutilized.

DANTE: They are not.

TRAINER: Yes, they are. You're out of shape.

DANTE: What are you talking about? There's no fat on this body.

TRAINER: No fat, but no tone either. You don't get enough exercise.

JAY: I work, just like you. You're more of a crook than I am, dude.

DANTE: How do you figure... HEY! You can't roll a joint in here!

JAY: Relax brother. What I mean is that you sell the stuff in this store at the highest prices around. A dollar seventy-nine for wraps-what's that shit?

DANTE: It's not my store.

JAY: And these aren't my drugs-I just sell them.

DANTE: The difference is you exploit a weakness.

JAY: What's that mean?

DANTE: You sell to people that can't stay away from an addiction.

JAY: All right. How much is Pepsi here?

DANTE: A dollar sixty-nine, plus tax.

JAY: At Food City it's ninety-nine cents, plus tax.

DANTE: So.

JAY: So why do you sell it for so much more? I'll tell you why-because people come here and they're like "A dollar eighty for soda? I should get it at Food City. But I don't feel like driving there. I'll just buy it here so I don't have to drive up there." That's exploiting a weakness, too, isn't it?

DANTE: I can't believe you just rolled a joint in here.

JAY: Hey, man, what happened with that old guy?

DANTE: He died in the bathroom.

JAY: That's fucked up. Yo, I heard he was jerkin' off.

DANTE: I don't know. I wasn't watching.

JAY: Probably saw that Caitlin chick. I know I felt like beatin' it when I saw her. Come here, bitch! You like this? Is this what you want? Hunhh?

DANTE: Knock it off. That used to be my girlfriend.

JAY: You used to go out with her?

DANTE: We were going to start again, I think.

JAY: Don't you already have a girlfriend?

DANTE: Veronica.

JAY: Is she that girl who's down here all the time? She came here today carrying a plate of food.

DANTE: Lasagne.

JAY: And what-you were gonna dump her to date that Caitlin chick?

DANTE: Maybe.

JAY: I don't know dude. That Caitlin chick's nice. But I see that Veronica girl doing shit for you all the time. She brings you food, she rubs your back... Didn't I see her change your tire one day?

DANTE: I jacked the car up. All she did was loosen the nuts and put the tire on.

JAY: Damn. She sure goes out of her way.

DANTE: She's my girlfriend.

JAY: I've had girlfriends, but all they wanted from me was weed and shit. Shit, my grandma used to say, "Which is better: a good plate with nothing on it..." No, wait. I fucked up. She said "What's a good-looking plate with nothing on it?"

DANTE: Meaning?

JAY: I don't know. She was senile and shit. Used to piss herself all the time. C'mon Silent Bob.

JAY: Noinch, noinch, noinch-smoking weed, smoking weed! Doing coke! Drinking beers! A pack of wraps, my good man. It's time to kick back, drink some beers, and smoke some weed!

DANTE: Done poisoning the youth for the day?

JAY: Hell yes, whatever that means. Now I'm gonna head over to Atlantic, drink some beers, get ripped, and- please God-get laid. E-Z Wider, one-and-a-halfs.

DANTE: One seventy-nine.

JAY: Pay the good man. Don't you close soon?

DANTE: A half hour.

JAY: We get off about the same time every night. We should hang out. You get high?

DANTE: I should start.

JAY: Wanna come to this party tonight? There's gonna be some pussy there, man!

DANTE: With you? I don't think so.

JAY: Listen to you. Oh shit. "Oh, I don't hang out with drug dealers."

DANTE: Nothing personal.

DANTE: Go open the video store.

JAY: Yeah, you cock-smoking clerk.

DANTE: How many times I gotta tell you not to deal outside the store.

JAY: I'm not dealing.

DANTE: Are there any balls down there?!

JAY: 'Bout the biggest pair you ever seen! NYNNE!!

IMPATIENT CUSTOMER: It's not like it's a demanding job. I'd like to get paid to sit on my ass and watch TV. The other day I walked in there and that sonofabitch was sleeping.

DANTE: I'm sure he wasn't sleeping.

IMPATIENT CUSTOMER: You calling me a liar?

DANTE: No; he was probably just resting his eyes.

IMPATIENT CUSTOMER: What the hell is that? Resting his eyes! It's not like he's some goddamned air traffic controller!

DANTE: Actually, that's his night job.

IMPATIENT CUSTOMER: Such a wiseass. But go ahead. Crack wise. That's why you're jockeying a register in some fucking local convenience store instead of doing an honest day's work. I got no more time to bullshit around waiting for that sonofabitch. You make sure this gets back. The number's eight-twelve-Wynarski. And I wanted to get a damn movie, too.

DANTE: If you'll just tell me the title of your rental choice, I'll have him hold it for you.

IMPATIENT CUSTOMER: Don't hurt yourself. I'm going to Big Choice Video instead.

DANTE: The porno mags?

OLD MAN: Yeah. I like the cartoons. They make me laugh. They draw the biggest titties.

DANTE: Here. Now leave me alone.

OLD MAN: Uh, can I have the other one. The one below this one. They show more in that one.

DANTE: You know, you probably could've been home, already, in the time it's taken you to get in there.

OLD MAN: Can I trouble you for one of those magazines?

DANTE: I said go ahead.

OLD MAN: No, I mean the ones there. Behind the counter.

OLD MAN: Say, young fella, you know I hate to bother you again, but can I take a paper or something back there... to read? It usually takes me a while, and I like to read while it's going on.

DANTE: Jesus... go ahead.

OLD MAN: Thanks, young man. You've got a heart of gold.

DANTE: And he got cancer by chewing fluorescent bulb glass...?

OLD MAN: No, he got hit by a bus.

DANTE: Oh... Can I help you?

OLD MAN: Well, that depends. Do you have a bathroom?

DANTE: Um... yeah, but it's for employees only.

OLD MAN: I understand, but can I use it. I'm not that young anymore, so I'm kind of... you know... incontinent.

DANTE: Uh... sure. Go ahead. It's back through the cooler.

OLD MAN: Thanks son. Say-what kind of toilet paper you got back there?

DANTE: The white kind.

OLD MAN: I'm not asking about the color. I mean is it rough or cottony?

DANTE: Actually, it is kind of rough.

OLD MAN: Rough, eh? Oh, that stuff rips hell out of my hemorrhoids. Say, would you mind if I took a roll of the soft stuff back there. I see you sell the soft stuff.

DANTE: Yeah, but...

OLD MAN: Aw, c'mon boy. What's the difference? You said yourself the stuff that's there now is rough.

DANTE: Yeah, okay. Go ahead.

OLD MAN: Thanks son, you're a lifesaver.

OLD MAN: Be careful.

DANTE: I'm trying.

OLD MAN: You know the insides of those are filled with stuff that gives you cancer.

DANTE: So I'm told.

OLD MAN: I had a friend that used to chew glass for a living. In the circus.

VERONICA: You're damn right it's not like that! Because I won't let it be like that! You want your slut? Fine! The slut is yours!

DANTE: I don't want Caitlin...

VERONICA: You don't know what you want, but I'm not going to sit here anymore holding your hand until you figure it out! I've encouraged you to get out of this fucking dump and go back to school, to take charge of your life and find direction. I even transferred so maybe you would be more inclined to go back to college if I was with you. Everyone said it was a stupid move, but I didn't care because I loved you and wanted to see you pull yourself out of this senseless funk you've been in since that whore dumped you, oh so many years ago. And now you want to go back to her so she can fuck you over some more?

DANTE: I don't want to go back with her...

VERONICA: Of course not; not now! You're caught, and now you're trying to snake out of doing what you wanted to do. Well, I won't let you. I want you to follow through on this, just so you can find out what a fucking idiot you are. And when she dumps you again- and she will, Dante, I promise you that-when she dumps you again, I want to laugh at you, right in your face, just so you realize that that was what you gave up our relationship for! I'm just glad Randal had the balls to tell me, since you couldn't.

DANTE: Randal...?

VERONICA: And having him tell me... that was just the weakest move ever. You're spineless.

DANTE: Veronica, I love you...

VERONICA: Fuck you.

DANTE: What the fuck did you do that for?

VERONICA: If you didn't want to go out with me anymore, why didn't you just say it? Instead, you pussyfoot around and see that slut behind my back!

DANTE: What're you talking about?

VERONICA: You've been talking to her on the phone for weeks!

DANTE: It was only a few times...

VERONICA: And then you pull that shit this morning, freaking out because I've gone down on a couple guys!

DANTE: A couple...?

VERONICA: I'm not the one trying to patch things up with my ex, sneaking around behind your back! And if you think that thirty-seven dicks are a lot, then just wait, mister: I'm going to put the hookers in Times Square to shame with all the guys I go down on now!

DANTE: Would you let me explain...

VERONICA: Explain what? How you were waiting until the time was right, and then you were going to dump me for her?

DANTE: Veronica... I... it's not like that anymore... I mean, it was never really like that...

VERONICA: You had to tell him.

DANTE: I had to tell someone. He put it into perspective.

VERONICA: What did he say?

DANTE: At least he wasn't thirty-six.

VERONICA: And that made you feel better?

DANTE: And he said most of them are college guys, I've never met or seen.

VERONICA: The ostrich syndrome: if you don't see it...

DANTE: ...it isn't there. Yes.

VERONICA: Thank you for being rational.

DANTE: Thank you for the lasagne.

VERONICA: You couldn't get these shutters open?

DANTE: I called a locksmith and he said the earliest he could get here it tomorrow.

VERONICA: Bummer, Well, I've gotta head back for the one-thirty class.

DANTE: What time do you get finished?

VERONICA: Eight. But I have a sorority meeting till nine, so I'll be back before you close. Can we go out and get some coffee?

DANTE: Sure.

VERONICA: Good. I'll see you when you close, then. Enjoy the lasagne.

DANTE: He still hasn't shown up. Why aren't you in class?

VERONICA: Lit 101 got canceled, so I stopped home and brought you some lunch.

DANTE: What is it?

VERONICA: Peanut butter and jelly with the crusts cut off. What do you think it is? It's lasagne.

DANTE: Really? You're the best.

VERONICA: I'm glad you've calmed down a bit. Hi, Randal.

VERONICA: I'm going to school. Maybe later you'll be a bit more rational.

DANTE: Thirty-seven. I just can't...

VERONICA: Goodbye, Dante.

DANTE: Hey! Where are you going?!

VERONICA: Hey listen, jerk! Until today you never even knew how many guys I'd slept with, because you never even asked. And then you act all nonchalant about fucking twelve different girls. Well, I never had sex with twelve different guys!

DANTE: No, but you sucked enough dick!

VERONICA: Yeah, I went down on a few guys...

DANTE: A few?

VERONICA: ...And one of those guys was you! The last one, I might add, which-if you're too stupid to comprehend- means that I've been faithful to you since we met! All the other guys I went with before I met you, so, if you want to have a complex about it, go ahead! But don't look at me like I'm the town whore, because you were plenty busy yourself, before you met me!

DANTE: Well... why did you have to suck their dicks? Why didn't you just sleep with them, like any decent person?!

VERONICA: Because going down it's a big deal! I used to like a guy, we'd make out, and sooner or later I'd go down on him. But I only had sex with the guys I loved.

DANTE: I feel sick.

VERONICA: I love you. Don't feel sick.

DANTE: Every time I kiss you now I'm going to taste thirty-six other guys.

DANTE: Well...?

VERONICA: Something like thirty-six.

DANTE: WHAT? SOMETHING LIKE THIRTY-SIX?

VERONICA: Lower your voice!

DANTE: What the hell is that anyway, "something like thirty-six?" Does that include me?

VERONICA: Um. Thirty-seven.

DANTE: I'M THIRTY-SEVEN?

VERONICA: I'm going to class.

DANTE: Thirty-seven?! My girlfriend sucked thirty-seven dicks!

DANTE: You sucked that guy's dick?

VERONICA: Yeah. How do you think I know he liked...

DANTE: But... but you said you only had sex with three guys! You never mentioned him!

VERONICA: That's because I never had sex with him!

DANTE: You sucked his dick!

VERONICA: We went out a few times. We didn't have sex, but we fooled around.

DANTE: Oh my God! Why did you tell me you only slept with three guys?

VERONICA: Because I did only sleep with three guys! That doesn't mean I didn't just go with people.

DANTE: Oh my God-I feel so nauseous...

VERONICA: I'm sorry, Dante. I thought you understood.

DANTE: I did understand! I understand that you slept with three different guys, and that's all you said.

VERONICA: Please calm down.

DANTE: How many?

VERONICA: Dante...

DANTE: How many dicks have you sucked?!

VERONICA: Let it go...

DANTE: HOW MANY?

VERONICA: All right! Shut up a second and I'll tell you! Jesus! I didn't freak like this when you told me how many girls you fucked.

DANTE: This is different. This is important. How many?!

DANTE: Why do you call him that?

VERONICA: Sylvan made it up. It's a blow job thing.

DANTE: What do you mean?

VERONICA: After he gets a blow job, he likes to have the cum spit back into his mouth while kissing. It's called snowballing.

DANTE: He requested this?

VERONICA: He gets off on it.

DANTE: Sylvan can be talked into anything.

VERONICA: Why do you say that?

DANTE: Like you said-she snowballed him.

VERONICA: Sylvan? No; I snowballed him.

DANTE: Yeah, right.

VERONICA: I'm serious...

DANTE: Shit! Why are we getting up?

VERONICA: Unlike you, I have a class in forty- five minutes.

DANTE: What the hell was that for?

VERONICA: You're a pig.

DANTE: Why'd you hit me?

VERONICA: Do you know how many different men I've had sex with?

DANTE: Do I get to hit you after you tell me?

VERONICA: Three.

DANTE: Three?

VERONICA: Three including you.

DANTE: You've only had sex with three different people?

VERONICA: I'm not the pig you are.

DANTE: Who?

VERONICA: You!

DANTE: No; who were the three, besides me?

VERONICA: John Franson and Rob Stanslyk.

DANTE: Wow. That's great. That's something to be proud of.

VERONICA: I am. And that's why you should feel like a pig. You men make me sick. You'll sleep with anything that says yes.

DANTE: Animal, vegetable, or mineral.

VERONICA: Vegetable meaning paraplegic.

DANTE: They put up the least amount of struggle.

VERONICA: After dropping a bombshell like that, you owe me. Big.

DANTE: All right. Name it.

VERONICA: I want you to come with me on Monday.

DANTE: Where?

VERONICA: To school. There's a seminar about getting back into a scholastic program after a lapse in enrollment.

DANTE: Can't we ever have a discussion without that coming up?

VERONICA: It's important to me, Dante. You have so much potential that just goes to waste in this pit. I wish you'd go back to school.

DANTE: Jesus, would you stop? You make my head hurt when you talk about this.

VERONICA: How much money did you leave up there?

DANTE: Like three dollars in mixed change and a couple of singles. People only get the paper of coffee this time of morning.

VERONICA: You're trusting.

DANTE: Why do you say that?

VERONICA: How do you know they're taking the right amount of change? Or even paying for what they take?

DANTE: Theoretically, people see money on the counter and nobody around, they think they're being watched.

VERONICA: Honesty through paranoia. Why do you smell like shoe polish?

DANTE: I had to use shoe polish to make that sign. The smell won't come off.

VERONICA: Do you think anyone can see us down here?

DANTE: Why? You wanna have sex or something?

VERONICA: Ooh! Can we?!

DANTE: Really?

VERONICA: I was kidding.

DANTE: Yeah, right. You can't get enough of me.

VERONICA: Typically male point of view.

DANTE: How do you figure?

VERONICA: You show some bedroom proficiency, and you think you're gods. What about what we do for you?

DANTE: Women? Women, as lovers, are all basically the same: they just have to be there.

VERONICA: "Be there?"

DANTE: Making a male climax is not all that challenging: insert somewhere close and preferably moist; thrust; repeat.

VERONICA: How flattering.

DANTE: Now, making a woman cum... therein lies a challenge.

VERONICA: Oh, you think so?

DANTE: A girl makes a guy cum, it's standard. A guy makes a girl cum, it's talent.

VERONICA: And I actually date you?

DANTE: Something wrong?

VERONICA: I'm insulted. Believe me, Don Juan, it takes more than that to get a guy off. Just "being there"-as you put it-is not enough.

DANTE: I touched a nerve.

VERONICA: I'm astonished to hear you trivialize my role in our sex life.

DANTE: It wasn't directed at you. I was making a broad generalization.

VERONICA: You were making a generalization about "broads!"

DANTE: These are my opinions based on my experiences with the few women who were good enough to sleep with me.

VERONICA: How many?

DANTE: How many what?

VERONICA: How many girls have you slept with?

DANTE: How many different girls? Didn't we already have this discussion once?

VERONICA: We might have; I don't remember. How many?

DANTE: Including you?

VERONICA: It better be up to and including me.

DANTE: Twelve.

VERONICA: You've slept with twelve different girls?

DANTE: Including you; yes.

DANTE: What? What is that?

VERONICA: She called you, didn't she?

DANTE: Oh, be real! Would you... Would you please hug me? I just went through a very traumatic experience and I haven't been having the best day so far. Now come on.

VERONICA: All right, stupid question. But don't you think you're taking this a bit too hard?

DANTE: Too hard?! I don't have enough indignities in my life-people start throwing cigarettes at me!

VERONICA: At least they weren't lit.

DANTE: I hate this fucking place.

VERONICA: Then quit. You should be going to school anyway...

DANTE: Please, Veronica. Last thing I need is a lecture at this point.

VERONICA: All I'm saying is that if you're unhappy you should leave.

DANTE: I'm not even supposed to be here today!

VERONICA: I know. I stopped by your house and your mom said you left at like six or something.

DANTE: The guy got sick and couldn't come in.

VERONICA: Don't you have a hockey game at two?

DANTE: Yes! And I'm going to play like shit because I didn't get a good night's sleep!

VERONICA: Why did you agree to come in then?

DANTE: I'm only here until twelve, then I'm gone. The boss is coming in.

VERONICA: Why don't you open the shutters and get some sunlight in here?

DANTE: Somebody jammed the locks with gum.

VERONICA: You're kidding.

DANTE: Bunch of savages in this town.

VERONICA: You look bushed. What time did you get to bed?

DANTE: I don't know-like two-thirty, three.

VERONICA: What were you doing up so late?

DANTE: Hunhh? Nothing.

VERONICA: What were you doing?

DANTE: Nothing! Jesus! I gotta fight with you now?

VERONICA: Who's fighting? Why are you so defensive?

DANTE: Who's defensive? Just... Would you just hug me?! All right? Your boyfriend was accosted by an angry mob, and he needs to be hugged.

MAN: Thanks. I thought I was gonna have to go to the hospital.

DANTE: I'll throw this out. Precautionary measure.

MAN: It stings a little.

DANTE: A word of advice: Sometimes it's best to let those hard to reach chips go.

DANTE: You hold the counter and I'll pull.

MAN: Usually I just turn the can upside down.

DANTE: Maybe we should soap your hand or something.

MAN: They oughta put some kind of warning on these cans, like they do with cigarettes.

DANTE: I think it's coming now...

DANTE: I didn't sell cigarettes to any kids! I swear!

SUITED MAN: The due date is on the bottom. This summons cannot be contested in any court of law. Failure to remit before the due date will result in a charge of criminal negligence, and a warrant will be issued for your arrest. Have a nice day.

DANTE: What are you talking about?

SUITED MAN: According to the NJAC-the New Jersey Administrative Code, section eighteen, five, slash twelve point five-a fine of no less than two hundred and fifty dollars is to be leveled against any person reported selling cigarettes to a minor.

DANTE: I didn't do that!

SUITED MAN: You said you were here all day?

DANTE: Yeah, but I didn't sell cigarettes to any kids!

SUITED MAN: An angry mother called the state division of taxation and complained that the man working at Quick Stop Convenience sold her five-year-old daughter cigarettes today at around four o'clock. Division of taxation calls the State Board of Health, and they send me down here to issue a fine. You say you were working all day, hence the fine is yours. It's doubled due to the incredibly young age of the child.

DANTE: But I didn't sell cigarettes to any kid!

SUITED MAN: Here you go.

DANTE: What's this?

SUITED MAN: A fine, for five hundred dollars.

DANTE: WHAT?

DANTE: I'm not out of shape!

SUITED MAN: Can I have your name please?

DANTE: Dante Hicks. Why? What is this about?

SUITED MAN: Were you working here at about four o'clock?

DANTE: I've been here since six o'clock this morning. Why?

SUITED MAN: You open?

DANTE: Yes. I'm not out of shape.

SUITED MAN: Excuse me, but have you been here all day?

DANTE: What?

GIRL 1: Did he say "making fuck?"

JAY: Wait, there's more. Olaf: sing...

GIRL 1: That doesn't sound metal.

JAY: You gotta hear him sing. Olaf, "Berserker!"

GIRL 1: What did he say?

JAY: I don't know, man. He's a fucking character.

GIRL 1: No way!

JAY: Swear. Olaf, metal!

GIRL 1: He only speaks Russian?

JAY: He knows some English, but he can't not speak it good like we do.

JAY: Oh shit, look who it is. The human vacuum.

GIRL 1: Scumbag. What are you doing?

JAY: Nothing. Just hanging out with Silent Bob and his cousin.

GIRL 1: He's your cousin?

JAY: Check this out, he's from Russia.

GIRL 1: No way.

JAY: I swear to God. Silent Bob, am I lying?

JAY: Come on, man, "Berserker!"

GIRL 2: Does he sing in English or Russian?

JAY: English. Come on, "Berserker!" Girls think sexy.

GIRL 2: He really wants to play metal?

JAY: He's got his own band in Moscow. It's called "Fuck Your Yankee Blue Jeans" or something like that.

GIRL 2: Is he staying here?

JAY: He's moving to the big city next week. He wants to be a metal singer.

GIRL 2: What part of Russia?

JAY: I don't fucking know. What am I, his biographer? Olaf, what part of Russia are you from?

HEATHER: Sure. How about the beach?

TRAINER: I like the way you think.

TRAINER: To a five-year-old kid? What a scumbag!

HEATHER: That's sick, Dante.

TRAINER: Holy shit! She told you about that! Buddy of mine worked there. Said he watched the whole thing. They used to film people at that hotel; nobody knew about it.

HEATHER: She said one time you set up a tent on the beach and you guys did it in the middle of this big rainstorm.

TRAINER: Really?

HEATHER: Oh yeah. You were the built older guy with the black Trans and the big...

HEATHER: Oh my God! You're Rick Derris?

TRAINER: Yeah!

HEATHER: To an Asian design major.

TRAINER: Shit! Don't take this the wrong way, but I used to fuck her.

HEATHER: You're Dante Hicks? Oh my God! I didn't even recognize you!

TRAINER: Because he's out of shape.

TRAINER: It's probably from being around all this food every day.

HEATHER: Oh, I know. If I had to work here all day, I'd be bloated and out of shape, too.

TRAINER: I think the lady called it.

HEATHER: My ex-boyfriend was about his height, but he was much bulkier. He could bench two-fifty, three hundred easy.

TRAINER: I do about three-fifty, four.

HEATHER: No way!

TRAINER: Feel that.

HEATHER: That's tight. Solid.

TRAINER: Now feel his. Roll up your sleeve, chief.

TRAINER: Let me ask you a question: Do you think this guy's out of shape?

HEATHER: I don't know. I can't really tell from here.

TRAINER: He is.

INDECISIVE CUSTOMER: Well this is the last time I ever rent here...

RANDAL: You'll be missed.

INDECISIVE CUSTOMER: Screw you!

INDECISIVE CUSTOMER: I just held up the same two movies. You're not even paying attention.

RANDAL: No, I wasn't.

INDECISIVE CUSTOMER: I don't think your manager would appreciate...

RANDAL: I don't appreciate your ruse, ma'am.

INDECISIVE CUSTOMER: I beg your pardon!

RANDAL: Your ruse. Your cunning attempt to trick me.

INDECISIVE CUSTOMER: I only pointed out that you weren't paying any attention to what I was saying.

RANDAL: I hope it feels good.

INDECISIVE CUSTOMER: You hope what feels good?

RANDAL: I hope it feels so good to be right. There is nothing more exhilarating than pointing out the shortcomings of others, is there?

INDECISIVE CUSTOMER: You've never heard anybody say anything about either movie?

RANDAL: I find it's best to stay out of other people's affairs.

INDECISIVE CUSTOMER: Well, how about these two movies?

JAY: That's the price, my brother.

JOHN: Yo, I don't have that kind of cash.

JAY: For this kind of hash, you need that kind of cash.

JOHN: How long you gonna be here?

JAY: Till ten. Then I'm going to John K's party.

JOHN: You're gonna be at John K's party?

JAY: My man is deaf. I'M GOING TO JOHN K'S PARTY! Neh.

JOHN: Yo, don't sell all that. 'Cause I'm gonna get the cash and buy it from you at John K's. You're gonna bring it, right?

JAY: The only place I don't bring my drugs is church. And that ain't till Sunday morning.

JOHN: Yo. I'll see you at that party. I'll see you there?

JAY: I'll see you there.

VERONICA: And... he told you all of this?

RANDAL: Pretty much. All except the latent homosexuality part-that's just my theory.

VERONICA: I... I don't know what to say.

RANDAL: Don't hold it against him. He just never got Caitlin out of his system. It's not your fault. It's Dante. I don't know thing one about chicks. Do you want to cry or something? I can leave.

VERONICA: I'm not sad.

RANDAL: You're not?

VERONICA: No, I'm more furious. I'm pissed off. I feel like he's been killing time while he tries to grow the balls to tell me how he really feels, and then he can't even do it! He has his friend do it for him!

RANDAL: He didn't ask me to...

VERONICA: After all that I've done for that fuck! And he wants to be with that slut? Fine! He can have his slut!

RANDAL: Um, do you think you can give me a lift home tonight?

VERONICA: I'm going to have a word with that asshole.

V.A. CUSTOMER: The guy ain't here yet.

RANDAL: You're kidding. It's almost eleven- thirty!

V.A. CUSTOMER: I know. I've been here since eleven.

RANDAL: Man! I hate it when I can't rent videos!

V.A. CUSTOMER: I would've went to Big Choice, but the tape I want is right there on the wall.

RANDAL: Which one?

V.A. CUSTOMER: Dental School.

RANDAL: You came for that too? That's the movie I came for.

V.A. CUSTOMER: I have first dibs.

RANDAL: Says who?

V.A. CUSTOMER: Says me. I've been here for half an hour. I'd call that first dibs.

RANDAL: Ain't gonna happen, my friend. I'm getting that tape.

V.A. CUSTOMER: Like hell you are!

RANDAL: I'll bet you twenty bucks you don't get to rent that tape.

V.A. CUSTOMER: Twenty bucks?

RANDAL: Twenty bucks.

V.A. CUSTOMER: All right, asshole, you're on.

VERONICA: No, I transferred into Monmouth this year. I was tired of missing him.

WILLAM: Do you still talk to Sylvan?

VERONICA: I just talked to her on Monday. We still hang out on weekends.

WILLAM: That's cool. Well-you two lovebirds take it easy, all right?

VERONICA: I will. Take it easy.

WILLAM: Bye.

VERONICA: Bye That was Snowball.

VERONICA: Willam!

WILLAM: Ronnie! How are you? You work here now?

VERONICA: No, I'm just visiting my man. Dante, this is Willam Black. This is Dante Hicks, my boyfriend.