Justin Bieber Explains Music to John and Paul

     (JUSTIN BIEBER is in a boat fishing with JOHN LENNON and PAUL MCCARTNEY.  JOHN and PAUL aren't really fishing, just drinking beer and strumming on ukeleles.  JUSTIN seems really focused on catching something.)

JUSTIN: Nothing's biting today.

PAUL:  You want to put down the fishing pole and write some music with us right now?  Seems better than talking about it all day long.

JUSTIN:  We're here to fish.

PAUL:  Sometimes you go to fish and you catch a song instead.

JOHN:  Or you get drunk.

PAUL:  Or you get drunk, right.

JUSTIN:  I told you guys.  Today is about learning, not about music.  You gotta walk before you can run.  Now what kind of music are you interested in?

JOHN:  There aren't 'kinds' of music.  Just music.

JUSTIN:  Okay, well that's just stupid.  That's like saying there aren't 'kind's of ice cream.

JOHN:  There aren't.  If it makes you feel good, it's music.  If it makes you feel good, it's ice cream.

PAUL:  That could be a song.  If it makes you--

JUSTIN:  Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Don't go writing anything.  I let you bring those ukeleles, but I'll throw them overboard if you guys start getting ahead of yourselves.

JOHN:  Sometimes you just have to dive in, man.

JUSTIN:  Well yeah, if I throw your ukeleles into the lake you will.

PAUL:  When do you usually write your music?

JUSTIN:  Well...it's...if I'm...like...at night.

JOHN:  What sort of stuff do you write?

JUSTIN:  I write a lot about...girls--a girl.  You know, whatever girl I'm--and sometimes things that are bothering me, I'll write about that kinda thing.

JOHN:  Injustice?

PAUL:  The unsung heroes?

JUSTIN:  Yeah, a lot of those--kinds of songs.

JOHN:  Sing something for us.

JUSTIN:  I really can't.  I mean, not unless you're going to pay me.

PAUL:  What if you just recite it?

JUSTIN:  Huh?

PAUL:  Music is poetry, wouldn't you say?  And you recite poetry, don't you?

JUSTIN:  Oh my God, constantly.  I'm always reciting poetry.  You know that book about the cat?  And the kids?  And the talking fish?  I'm always saying that one and going 'Whoa, it's crazy how much this applies to my life.'

JOHN:  Are you talking about the Cat in the Bloody Hat?

JUSTIN:  Uh...no, there's...another one.

PAUL:  Just say some of your stuff for us, mate.

JOHN:  Anything at all.

PAUL:  How else are we going to learn?

JUSTIN:  Okay, okay, um...

     (He clears his throat.)

You know you love me, I know you care
Just shout whenever, and I'll be there
You are my love, you are my heart
And we will never, ever, ever be apart

Are we an item? Girl, quit playin'
'We're just friends,' what are you sayin'?
Said 'there's another,' and looked right in my eyes
My first love broke my heart for the first time

PAUL:  That's not half bad.

JOHN:  I like the part where he tells her to quit playin'.  I've said that before.

PAUL:  Very universal.

JOHN:  Very.

PAUL:  Very.

JUSTIN:  Yeah, so that's pretty much it.

PAUL:  What about the chorus?

JUSTIN:  What?

PAUL:  Is there a chorus?

JOHN:  Do you not have a chorus?

JUSTIN:  I mean, I have a chorus, but--a chorus is a chorus, right?

JOHN:  But I want to find out what happens.  Did she quit playin'?

PAUL:  Just rattle it off for us.

JUSTIN:  Uh, well, it goes, uh...

Remember to let her into your heart

 

PAUL:  No, that's my song.

 

JUSTIN:  You wrote that?

 

PAUL:  Yeah.

 

JUSTIN:  Damn, that's really good.

 

PAUL:  Thanks.

 

JOHN:  How does yours go?

 

JUSTIN:  Uh, oh right, mine, um, it's...it goes...

 

And I was like baby, baby, baby............Oh
Like baby, baby, baby............................No
Like baby, baby, baby............................Oh
I thought you'd always be mine.............Mine

     (A beat.)

PAUL/JOHN:  Well, that was interesting./They play that on the radio?

JUSTIN:  It's...I mean, it has meaning to...you know, if you relate to...the kids like it.

JOHN:  What's the song called?

JUSTIN:  ...Baby.

JOHN:  So...all right.

PAUL:  You know, Justin's right, if we're going to fish, we might as well fish.

JUSTIN:  Yeah, let's get back to that.

     (JOHN and PAUL pick up their poles.  A moment goes by.)

JOHN:  Is the second verse any--

PAUL:  John, leave it alone.

JOHN:  All right, all right.

     (JOHN starts humming 'Baby.')

JOHN:  It is catchy, I'll give you that.

JUSTIN:  Thank you.

JOHN:  Very catchy.

     (He continues to hum, as they all wait for something to bite.)

Channing Tatum Explains Dramatic Structure to Henrik Ibsen

     (CHANNING TATUM and HENRIK IBSEN are facing each other in a dance studio.  Both are dressed in athletic gear.  HENRIK looks amazing.)

HENRIK:  What are we doing here?

CHANNING:  I'm going to teach you how to write a play, big man.

HENRIK:  I am of average size.

CHANNING:  It's a joke.

     (A moment.)

HENRIK:  I fail to find the humor in that.

CHANNING:  That's because you don't know funny.

HENRIK:  Or it was a poor joke.  Much like most of your career.

CHANNING:  See, now THAT was funny!

HENRIK:  I was being serious.

CHANNING:  Man, you're hard to read!  Luckily, I don't read good, so we don't have to worry too much.

HENRIK:  Did you bring me here to kill me?

CHANNING:  Dude, it's Crossfit gym.

HENRIK:  I assume this is where Americans go to die?

CHANNING:  Well, yeah, but--

HENRIK:  I thought you were going to help me with my writing?

CHANNING:  I am!  And writing is like dancing, and I know dancing.  Take your pants off.

HENRIK:  Excuse me?

CHANNING:  You can't move well the way you're dressed.  We do this in our underwear.

HENRIK:  Must we?

CHANNING:  Yeah, we must, dude.

HENRIK:  What sort of sinful waltz are you going to teach me?

CHANNING:  Yo, one of my straight-to-videos was called 'Sinful Waltz.'  You can't even get that shit on eBay anymore.

HENRIK:  I'm leaving my pants off.

CHANNING:  Suit yourself.

     (CHANNING takes his pants off.  HENRIK is mortified.)

HENRIK:  Have you ever written anything?

CHANNING:  Uh, YEAH.  The first three drafts of Magic Mike and, like, two scenes in The Vow that I improvised on the spot.

HENRIK:  Were those performed by professionals?

CHANNING:  Professional badasses?  Yeah, they were.

HENRIK:  You speak like a Norwegian gutter girl.

CHANNING:  Yo, what kinda kinky shit you into, Henny Penny?

HENRIK:  Let us please begin.

CHANNING:  In order to write, you have to think about where you're going, where you want to go, whose face you're going to put your junk in.

HENRIK:  I shall not smear my garbage onto the countenance of another.

CHANNING:  That's what theater is, Hen!  It's getting in people's faces!  Putting your lone wolf right where they can see it and being like 'This is my art, bitch!'

HENRIK:  I fear you have no soul.

CHANNING:  Writing's gotta be spontaneous, free-flowing, rhythmic--

     (CHANNING grabs HENRIK and the two begin to dance.  HENRIK resists at first, but CHANNING seduces him into a slow, sensual tango.)

HENRIK:  Never speak about this.

CHANNING:  About what?

HENRIK:  Talk on my work.  Criticize it.  Rip it apart.  I am in your hands and I shall stay there for as long as you'll have me.

CHANNING:  All your plays have sad endings.

HENRIK:  Life's endings are often sad.

CHANNING:  Dude, not all the time.  Look at us!  You're a famous playwright and I'm AWESOME.  Put the sad stuff in the beginning and then make the ending fun and happy!  Unless you want like a twisty play where, like, Hedda Gabler can die in the first five minutes and everybody's like 'Whoa!  This play's called 'Hedda Gabler' and now Hedda's dead!  What the fuck?'

HENRIK:  Go on.

CHANNING:  Doll House?  Lame House.  Give Nora a gun and start shooting shit up.  Then you'll have a play on your hands.

HENRIK:  Perhaps I could give Nora Hedda's gun?

CHANNING:  Yeah, whatever.  You know these people aren't real, right?

HENRIK:  In my mind's eye--

CHANNING:  Oh!  Wild Duck?  Two words for you:  The first one is Tobey.  And the second one is Maguire.  That dude can save almost anything.

HENRIK:  What else?

CHANNING:  Peer Gynt.  I don't know what it's about, and I don't know want to know what it's about.  And that's because you don't know how to come up with a good title.  Call it Car Chase.

HENRIK:  But there isn't a car chase in it.  There isn't even a car.

CHANNING:  Yeah and there isn't a John in Dear John but so what?

HENRIK:  Could it not be that your character's name was John?

CHANNING:  ...Ohhhhhhh...right.

HENRIK:  It doesn't matter.  None of it matters.  All that matters is the dance.

    (CHANNING dips HENRIK.  When they came up, something has changed.  They separate.)

CHANNING:  Goddammit, Henrik.

HENRIK:  What?  What have I done?

CHANNING:  I can't help you if you make me fall in love with you.

HENRIK:  You...you love me?

CHANNING:  No, dude!  That shit's dialogue right there!  You can use that.  Free of charge.

HENRIK:  Oh...I see.

CHANNING:  Now--you want to hear my theory on the fourth wall?

HENRIK:  You mean bridging the distance between yourself and the audience?

CHANNING:  Nah, like how if you have a theater you have to have a fourth wall or you'll be cold all the time.

HENRIK:  Something about you screams genius.  Perhaps it's the beauty in your eyes.  But I can't help but feel that you're incredibly intelligent.

CHANNING:  You know what, Henrik?  I get that a lot.

     (CHANNING laughs as HENRIK slowly begins to fall in love.)

Samuel L. Jackson Explains Nuclear Fission to Otto Hahn

     (SAMUEL L. JACKSON is sitting at a table in an interrogation room.  OTTO HAHN is brought in by two guards with a cloth bag over his head.  When the GUARDS shove him into his seat, one removes the cloth bag, and they BOTH exit the room closing the door behind them.)

SAMUEL:  Hello Otto.

OTTO:  You son-of-a-bitch.

SAMUEL:  I wouldn't go talking if I were you.  I'd just sit there and listen.

OTTO:  Are you going to kill me?

SAMUEL:  That depends on you.  You wanna die?

OTTO:  No.

SAMUEL:  Then you'll be just fine.  People who want to live tend to behave better than those who don't.  At least in my experience.

OTTO:  What do you want?

SAMUEL:  I'm going to explain nuclear fission to you, Otto.  And if I get it right, I want you to say 'That's right' and if I've got it wrong, I need you to help me get it right.  You got that?

OTTO:  What do you need with nuclear fission?

SAMUEL:  Now why would you want to concern yourself with unnecessary information?  Or as we in the business like to call it--shit that'll get you killed.

OTTO:  Are you trying to take over Bolivia again?

SAMUEL:  Again?  Motherfucker, if I wanted to take over Bolivia it would only take me one try.

OTTO:  This is a joke.  You don't know anything about nuclear fission.

SAMUEL:  Oh I don't?  Then how would I know that it's either a nuclear reaction or a radioactive decay process in which the nucleus of a particle splits into smaller parts?

OTTO:  You looked that up on Wikipedia.

SAMUEL:  I'll Wiki your dick if you're not careful, motherfucker.

OTTO:  What does that even mean?

SAMUEL:  Don't worry about it.

OTTO:  It sounds gay.

SAMUEL:  I SAID NOT TO WORRY ABOUT IT!

     (A beat.)

OTTO:  What else do you know?

SAMUEL:  I know what Fritz told me.

OTTO:  Fritz Strassman?  You got to him?

SAMUEL:  He sang like a canary taking a shit on Christmas.

OTTO:  I don't--okay.

SAMUEL:  Told me about the photons.  The protons.  The Motowns.  The Deftones.  The ringtones.  The Home Alone's.

OTTO:  You know, for a second, I actually started to worry that you were capable of doing real damage with the knowledge I could give you.

SAMUEL:  Bitch, I know about nuclear transmutation.

OTTO:  That's not going to get you anywhere.

SAMUEL:  I think it will, Otto.  I think it will.

OTTO:  You need me to connect the dots.  Put the pieces together.  All you have is a lot of puzzle pieces that you can't put together.

SAMUEL:  That's why you're here.

OTTO:  It won't work.  It would take me years to teach you what I know.  Months even!

SAMUEL:  Months is less than years.

OTTO:  Yeah, I know, I thought about it, and 'years' seemed like a stretch.

SAMUEL:  I got all the time in the world, Otto.

OTTO:  And what are you going to do with me once I'm done helping you.

SAMUEL:  You'll be released.

OTTO:  A likely story.

SAMUEL:  As soon as you're finished watching every movie I've ever been in.

     (A pause.)

OTTO:  What?

SAMUEL:  Gotta keep you in line, Otto.  Gotta remind you who's boss.  Besides, I think it's about time you started appreciating my acting prowess.

OTTO:  But I won't live long enough to watch all those movies.  And even if I did--you want me to watch The Spirit?  Jumper?  Resurrecting the Champ?

SAMUEL:  It'll be over before you--

OTTO:  Kill me.

SAMUEL:  What?

OTTO:  You heard me.

SAMUEL:  Otto, think about what you're saying.

OTTO:  I'd rather die than watch Freedomland.  Kill me.

SAMUEL:  Otto--

OTTO:  Fine.  I'll tell you about nuclear fission.  I'll tell you anything you want to know.  Just please don't make me watch that XXX sequel.

SAMUEL:  This is--

OTTO:  Getting Ice Cube to replace Vin Diesel?  What were you thinking?

SAMUEL:  I didn't cast the damn--Hey, shut up!

OTTO:  Get me a pen and paper.  I'll write down everything you need to know.

SAMUEL:  Well, that was...easy.  I'll be right back.

     (He starts to leave.)

SAMUEL:  Oh, but while I'm gone, someone's going to take you into the viewing room and show you Coach Carter and S.W.A.T.

OTTO:  What?!?

SAMUEL:  A little double feature.

OTTO:  No!

SAMUEL:  See you on the flip side, Otto.

OTTO:  No!

     (SAMUEL leaves.)

OTTO:  Nooooooooo!

     (The lights go out.)

Charlton Heston Explains Chimpanzees to Jane Goodall

     (The year is 1996.  CHARLTON HESTON is in bed with JANE GOODALL.  They're having a conversation after having just made love several times.  JANE might smoke, she probably does in fact.  CHARLTON gazes out her make-shift window into the jungle.)

CHARLTON:  They're watching us.

JANE:  You're paranoid.

CHARLTON:  I know what I'm talking about, Jane.  I've seen it.

JANE:  You've seen them watching us?

CHARLTON:  No, I've seen what happens when you underestimate the beasts.

JANE:  The chimps aren't fascinated by human love-making.  They'd be more interested in watching us knit.

CHARLTON:  What do I look like, woman?  A German housefrau?

     (JANE begins to get up, using the blanket to shield her nakedness.)

JANE:  I'm going to make myself some tea.  Would you like some?

CHARLTON:  Do you have any peppered rum?

JANE:  I don't believe I do, no.

CHARLTON:  My God, you really are roughing it, aren't you?

JANE:  I don't need much, Mr. Heston.  Just my work and a few basic necessities.

 CHARLTON:  Mr. Heston?  Woman, we just made love for twelve hours.  Will you please refer to me as Master?

JANE:  Whatever you prefer.

CHARLTON:  And I can see you don't have a single weapon here to defend yourself with when those apes finally bust in here and make you their concubine.

JANE:  They're not apes, they're chimps.

CHARLTON:  They're all the same!  Apes, chimps, beatniks--

JANE:  They're perfectly peaceful.  And I've developed a sort of rapport with them, actually.

CHARLTON:  A lot of good that rapport will do you when they're making you wear a bikini made out of banana peels.

JANE:  That doesn't sound all that bad.

CHARLTON:  It depends who's locked in the cage with you.

JANE:  I've been living here for quite some time and I've never noticed the chimps to be unjustifiably violent.

CHARLTON:  That's because they're waiting.  Can't you see that?  They're waiting until you let your guard down and then they'll attack!

JANE:  But I've been here for years!

CHARLTON:  And for years, they've been stockpiling ammunition in the bushes!  Digging holes!  Setting up booby traps!  You have to play offense on this, Jane.  You can't just write in your little notebook about how cute the Mama Chimp is when her baby's suckling on the teat!  Jesus, woman, are you really as blind as I think you are?

JANE:  I'm truly sorry if you've had a bad experience in the past, but I can assure you, the chimps are perfectly peaceful.

CHARLTON:  You really are a fool, aren't you?  Your womanly parts are clouding your judgment.  You see something small and pitiful and covered with fur, and you have to tell yourself it's probably not that bad when really it's just a pile of disappointment.

JANE:  You just described exactly what I was thinking before we made love.

CHARLTON:  Jane, I didn't want to leave you alone out here with these beasts, but I'm not going to waste my time trying to convince you either.  If you won't be civilized about this and let me throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here, then we have nothing left to talk about.

JANE:  I suppose we're done here then.

CHARLTON:  Fine.  Would you like to have sex one more time before I go?

JANE:  I think I'm good.  I forgot how unpleasant men can smell.

CHARLTON:  You're saying I smell unpleasant?  You spend days on end with unwashed primates.

JANE:  ...I forgot how unpleasant men can smell.

CHARLTON:  Good luck, Jane.  I'll wave to you from across the field of action when the revolution finally begins.

JANE:  Or you'll just die an old man and I'll send a sensible bouquet to your funeral.

CHARLTON:  Burn in hell, monkey lover.

JANE:  Lovely seeing you as well.

     (CHARLTON exits.  JANE waits a moment, goes over to her bedside table, and takes two cans connected by a string out of the drawer.  She tosses one of the cans out the window and puts the other one up to her ear.  After a few seconds--)

JANE:  It's me.  He's gone.  That was a close one.  I'm sorry, Commander, it won't happen again.  We're still on track for 2014.  No, he's a bombastic idiot.  Nobody will pay any attention to him.  Yes, I'll see you at dinner.  Good-bye.

     (She pulls the can back in, and puts both cans in the drawer, then shuts it and sits down on the bed.  In the distance, we hear the sounds of chimps laughing maniacally.)

Twenty Seconds

Twenty seconds
And I quit because...

Because my mom stayed twenty years
And they were lies

All day, everyday
Every second of it--dishonest

And I didn't want to do that so--

You're looking at me and say
That I didn't try

But I know why I didn't try
I didn't try because the result
Would have been the same

And trying would be like saying--

'Maybe this could work'

When I know
And I don't know how I know
But I just know
Deep down
That it won't

And it's not because
I don't want it to

It would be easier
It would be easier to lie too
But...

Twenty seconds in
I looked at you
And for twenty seconds
I wasn't myself

I was somebody
In a moment
That wasn't authentic

And that's not guru nonsense either
It's not from a self-help book
You know I don't read that shit
It's just what it was

My life was clear
And at some point
It started to fog
And in that foggy moment
I looked and everything was clear
Except you

You were the one thing left
I still couldn't see

It was like the opposite of a tunnel
If I tried to move towards you
I'd just be getting lost again

Not in you
But away from myself

So I broke
I severed
I stepped back

Twenty seconds
And I could see again

The truth was a knife
On the infection
One cut
And the tension's gone
The swelling goes down
It hurts
But it's healing
Already

I could have waited to do it
But who knows how much time I had?

Thirty seconds could have been
Too late

Kanye Explains Women to God

     (GOD and KANYE are at a karaoke bar.  The Gap Band's "You Dropped a Bomb on Me" is playing.)

KANYE:  Women, you know?

GOD:  Yeah.

KANYE:  Women.

GOD:  Yup.

KANYE:  Boy...you really fucked that up.

GOD:  What?

KANYE:  Women.

GOD:  Right.

KANYE:  Yeeeeeeeah.

GOD:  I fucked them up?

KANYE:  You fucked them up BAD.

GOD:  How do you figure?

KANYE:  Have you ever met a woman?

GOD:  Many.

KANYE:  Crazy, right?

GOD:  Not all of them.  And some men--

KANYE:  I got this woman--

GOD:  You mean--

KANYE:  I'm not naming names.  I'm just saying I have a woman.

GOD:  Kim.

KANYE:  We can call her Kim.

GOD:  You are talking about Kim, right?

KANYE:  I could be talking about a lot of people.

GOD:  But you're talking about Kim.

KANYE:  So let's say this woman--

GOD:  Kim.

KANYE:  --Whatever--let's say she's crazy.

GOD:  You can say she's crazy.  I'll go along with that.

KANYE:  She makes sex tapes, she gets married for a couple of hours and then divorced, she has, like, seven television shows--

GOD:  Right.

KANYE:  And then one day she texts you.  Says 'What's up?'  You say 'Nm u?'  She says 'Bored.'  You say 'Cool.'  She says 'Wanna come by?'  You say 'K.'  Next thing you know, you have a baby and you're married to her.  Tell me that's not fucked up.

GOD:  Did other stuff happen in between you saying 'K' and the two of you having a kid?

KANYE:  God, I don't need to explain the birds and the bees to you, do I?

GOD:  No, I invented both the birds and the bees.

KANYE:  Exactly.  I'm just trying to explain women to you.

GOD:  Right.

KANYE:  See, she trapped me.

GOD:  How do you figure?

KANYE:  She tricked me into having a baby!

GOD:  How did she do that?  I mean, when you got to her house, was there a hole in the front yard covered up by leaves?  Did you fall into it only to find yourself stuck in a pit with her, both your legs broken, so that you were at her mercy?  So that she could then subdue you, undress you, and then take you like some sort of concubine?  And after that was all over and she had been impregnated, what made you feel you HAD to marry her?  Was there blackmail involved?  Did she know something about you that you'd rather other people not find out?  Like, for example, that you actually enjoy the company of men or that your genitalia is unnaturally small?  Is that how that went?

     (A beat.)

KANYE:  Yeah, none of that happened.

GOD:  So the word 'trick'--

KANYE:  God--

GOD:  When you say she 'tricked' you--

KANYE:  Listen, I'm a man, okay?  I have desires.  I have urges.  And when I have those urges, I'm weak.  She caught me at a weak moment.

GOD:  You were watching Nurse Jackie, weren't you?

KANYE:  How do you know I get turned on by Edie Falco?

GOD:  Why do you still try to hide things from me, Kanye?  You know I don't buy into your bullshit.  I'm not the music critic from Rolling Stone.

KANYE:  Can't you see I'm wrestling demons.

GOD:  Are you talking about your in-laws?

KANYE:  They won't stop until I do a Kim and Kanye Show.  Ryan Seacrest is at my house every night.  EVERY NIGHT.  That man is charming as fuck, Lord.  He must be sent from the Devil.

GOD:  He is.

KANYE:  Really?

GOD:  No, I'm just screwing with you.

KANYE:  You can't be doing that to me, God!  I'm all twisted inside.  I gotta go on my mother-in-law's talk show this afternoon and do a cooking segment with her about how to make your own baby food.

GOD:  Why don't you just say 'No?'

KANYE:  I try to, but then Kim uses her feminine wiles on me--

GOD:  She puts on the nurse costume?

KANYE:  And she starts talking with that Jersey accent like Carmela Soprano.  It's too much.

GOD:  Kanye, did it ever occur to you that I didn't make women crazy, I just made men easy to manipulate?

KANYE:  Why would you do that?

GOD:  I don't know.  Maybe because I'm a woman?

     (KANYE looks at GOD for a second.)

KANYE:  No, you're not.

GOD:  I could be.

KANYE:  But you're not.

GOD:  But I might be.

KANYE:  Are you screwing with me again?

GOD:  I don't know.  Am I?

KANYE:  Man, you're just crazy.

GOD:  So then, according to your theory, wouldn't I be a woman?

     (A pause.)

KANYE:  Whoaaaa...

GOD:  Finish your drink.

KANYE:  I--

GOD:  Come on, we're going to be up soon.  I put in 'Little Red Corvette.'  You know that one, right?

KANYE:  Yeah, I know it.

GOD:  Good.

KANYE:  So God could be a woman?

GOD:  I could be.

KANYE:  Wow.

     (A short pause.  KANYE looks at GOD, smiles.)

KANYE:  So what's up?

     (The opening words of 'Little Red Corvette' begin to play.)

Carol Channing Explains Friendship to Mark Zuckerberg

     (CAROL CHANNING is at MARK ZUCKERBERG's house.  She's in his hot tub actually.  He's making some hot dogs on the grill.)

CAROL:  But I don't KNOW her!

MARK:  Carol, I'm right here.  You don't have to yell.

CAROL:  Was I YELLING?

MARK:  Yes.

CAROL:  I'm sorry, honey.  The war did that to me.

MARK:  Which war?

CAROL:  POKEMON!

MARK:  I'm sorry?

CAROL:  Anyway, she's not my friend.  She's nobody's friend.  I don't want her to know what I'm doing with my time.

MARK:  But you know her.

CAROL:  Of course I KNOW her!  And Bette Davis knew Little Richard, but they HATED each other!

MARK:  Did they?

CAROL:  That was just an example.  What I mean is--I'm not going to 'friend' her because we're not friends.  If you're 'friends' with someone you LIKE them.  I don't LIKE her.  I LOATHE her.  Is there a button for that?  If you LOATHE somebody?

MARK:  No, not yet.  We tested a program like it in Bulgaria but it caused a civil war.

CAROL:  DONUT HOLE!

MARK:  We talked about this.  No dessert until you eat your dinner.

CAROL:  This hot tub is fabulous, Mark.  FABULOUS.

MARK:  I heard you, I heard you.

CAROL:  CHEESEBURGER!

MARK:  Your doctor told me not to feed you dairy.  He said you can only process raw meat and almond butter.

CAROL:  You know so much about me, Mark.  See, YOU'RE my FRIEND.  Not that old bat.  I'd hit your button!

MARK:  Please don't say that.

CAROL:  BUT I WOULD!

MARK:  You can't just be friends with people you're actually friends with, Carol.  It's not just about friendship, it's about the people who exist in your life--good and bad.

CAROL:  Then shouldn't you call it something else, dear?

MARK:  It's...evolved from what it once was, but once you have a label--

CAROL:  SANTA CLAUS!

MARK:  Just friend her already, Carol!

CAROL:  I'd rather not.

MARK:  You know her, so friend her.  It's as simple as that.

CAROL:  But then the word 'friend' doesn't mean anything.

MARK:  It DOESN'T mean anything.  Not anymore.  It's an antiquated notion.  Everybody has two groups of people in their life--the people they're jealous of, and the people they're better than.  That's it.

CAROL:  My goodness, you're sad, poor thing.  Is it because you're a ginger?

MARK:  No.

CAROL:  Mickey Rooney was a ginger.  And a hell of a fox trotter.

MARK:  Please stop.

CAROL:  Or was that Burt Lancaster?

MARK:  Carol, I'm begging you--

CAROL:  MICROWAVE!

MARK:  CAROL I'M UNFRIENDING YOU!

     (A beat.)

CAROL:  You are?

MARK:  Yes.  I'm sorry, but--all you do is post pictures of your elbows, and they're so awful--

CAROL:  Oh.

MARK:  --And you don't know the difference between your inbox and your wall.  You keep posting things on my timeline asking if I think the thing on your elbow is infected, and I think it is, but--

CAROL:  I see.

MARK:  I just--can't deal with you on there anymore.  I mean, in life, sure, you're a hoot, but--

CAROL:  Well, that's fine, dear.

MARK:  ...Really?

CAROL:  Of course, honey, it's just some stupid website.  Who cares if we're friends on there or not?  As long as we're friends in real life.

MARK:  Well--okay.

CAROL:  How are those dogs coming?

MARK:  Uh...should be done in a second.  I left yours raw like your doctor--

CAROL:  That's lovely, dear.

MARK:  Good.

CAROL:  Just lovely.

MARK:  Good.

CAROL:  One more thing--

MARK:  Yes?

CAROL:  Are we still friends on Myspace?

MARK:  That's not funny, Carol.

CAROL:  Are you sure, dear?  It tickled me pink.

     (She laughs.  MARK smiles.  The hot dogs burn slightly.)