Motivational Growth (2013) Movie Script
1
(8-bit music)
(tv noises)
(8-bit music)
His name was Kent.
He was my television set.
He died somewhere around week 67.
Odd. I'd always thought I'd be the first to go.
Oh...no!
No!
(clicking remote)
No, no, no, no!
No, no, fuck!
(exasperated sighing)
(clicking remote)
(whimpering)
(slow steady beat turning into techno music)
Aaaahhhh!!!
(sobbing)
Kent was really the only piece
of non-furniture I half-expected
to stay with me through this whole thing.
All of the fish had given themselves up
to a more aerated lifestyle by week 10.
In March I stopped watering the house plants.
They were planning something untoward
and needed to be dealt with.
Every day is the same.
Every day I wake up to find
that absolutely nothing! changed.
If it wasn't for the sores,
I don't think I'd have a reason to get up at all.
Anyway, it's usually noon
by the time I roll my ass off the couch.
I stopped setting my alarm
sometime during the second week
There's really no point,
not necessarily in setting it, but in being alarmed.
What do I have to be alarmed about?
No bro named Brent calls me in the morning
asking me to meet for an iced latte.
No corporate success storie is on hold
because of me not showing up for a few months.
No hot little hard body is tiddling it to
a polaroid on her desk at my dumb ass.
And my fucking television set,
just ate it like Rice KrispieTreats.
Kent...Kent, Jesus.
What the hell, man?
My seclusion has made me reconsider things;
the very meaning of life itself, in point and fact.
A few months of nothing and sooner or later,
everything starts to seem like nothing.
We had a pact, man!
A covenant.
During this sort of recognition-
of-self-worthlessness processed,
it seems one finds it easier to question things
that a normal, healthy citizen might take for granted.
For instance, my daily struggle
between the couch and the crapper.
It's not as easy as you may think it is
to shit when that lonely shit
is the absolute culmination of your entire day.
While it is necessary for all creatures
to periodically excrete unneeded
and potentially harmful substances
for prim and proper metabolic maintenance,
the impulse to indulge in this otherwise
simple, natural act, serves as
sort of a field test for people like me.
(straining)
We think a little differently
when it comes to bowel movements
because they are an expression of life.
And life is hateful
Life is death, and pain, and anger,
(straining)
and solitude, and fury, all wrapped up
in a tricky little package and sold to you
like you should really be into this shit.
(straining)
You know kittens?
Kittens are killers, man.
They are killing machines.
They aren't playing with you
and your milkring, or your shoelace,
or that organic yuppie yarn you use on the bus
to show everyone how unique you are for knitting.
(straining)
They're training to fuck some other animal up.
Pull the legs off the spider, eat the eyeballs
out of a pigeon, that's life.
That right there is life, man.
Life is shit.
Now imagine that that shit right there
was the highlight of your day.
That shit is the shit I have been fighting
everyday for the last six months on this island earth.
Without Kent, all I have is a semi-regular
shit to get worked up about.
Not anymore.
This shit, that shit ends right here.
If you mix 2 parts common household bleach
and 1 part sulfuric acid, you get chlorine gas.
Boosh.
Chlorine gas was wildly used during
the first world war as a biological
contaminant. To kill people, lots of people.
If sulfuric acid isn't immediately available,
you could probably make do with any
common ammonia based glass cleaner, I think.
Let's find out.
The direct effect of so potent a mixture
in a case such as my own? Six months
of torturous, pointless, soul-sucking
seclusion brought to one disgustingly glorious end,
and one seriously clean-ass bathtub.
(vent whirring)
My name's Ian, by the way.
(B-bit horror music)
(tv static noises)
The Mold: Good morning, Sunshine.
Welcome back to the land of the living!
(Ian groaning)
Ian: What the christ happened?
The Mold:You okay buckaroo?
You still in orbit?
(Ian coughing)
Man, you're a real dream you knew that?
Hey, you listening to me nosebleed?
Hey Jack, you were going
for pinks back there, huh?
That was the real deal,
That was real deal, what with the tub full of short stuff.
What are you after, aftermath?
Ian: Oh shit, that didn't work at all.
The Mold:Jlack, do The Mold a real solid, alright?
Grab up all of your jacks and
marbles and bouncy balls and listen to me
for a second. Can you do that, Jack?
Ian: My name's Ian.
The Mold: Oh The Mold knows,Jack,The Mold knows.
(The Mold laughs)
Ian: I'm talking to the grime now.
God, what the fuck did I do to my head?
They say, and Blue Oyster Cult
will totally back me up on this,
that 40,000 men and women die everyday.
Being that there are only 1,444 seconds
in any given 24-hour period, it seems
seriously screwed up to me that I have failed
so righteously a task that the rest of the world
seems perfectly capable of committing
something like 30 times a fucking second.
In the time it takes me to walk
from the shitter to the sitter,
60 average, every-day, run-of-the-goddamn-mill
people manage to shuffle off.
You know, failure at any number of
standard tasks can end in death.
You fail at driving? Dead.
You fail at crossing the street? Dead.
You fail at preparing certain forms
of pacific rim seafood? Neuro-toxic shock
a pretty wild, pre-death state, but then, dead.
What happens if you fail at suicide?
You fail at death itself.
Me, that's what.
At least I've got Kent.
(tv explodes)
Fuck!
(dialing phone)
Yes, hello, I'm looking for someone
to come fix my television.
No, no, yes, no well, you see it's an old
sort of thing, no I don't think plasma
was even invented at the time, no,
wait what even is plasma?
I just need to find a place to get this fixed,
can you get me that?
ATV repair place, thank you.
Hi there, my TV is out and
I need someone to come fix it.
I have no idea what plasma even is,
so I don't think so, I don't know,
I'd have to ask my dad, but he's dead, so.
Look it's like a cabinet with a TV in it.
It's something you'd imagine
microwave TV dinners were invented for.
It's old, it's made from wood.
Tree wood. From trees.
My uncle used to call it "The Commodore",
l always just called him Kent.
You know "The Commodore" like
in the navy or star fleet or something.
Today would be best, yeah.
I don't know, anytime between
now and tomorrow works for me.
Sure, it's Ian Folliver,
606 South Brightmore number 108.
No, yeah - I'll be here.
That front door and I have a bit of a thing
in so much that I've pretty much
stayed away from it unless
there was pizza on the other side.
There's this kind of forcefield
keeping me from going through there.
A force-of-will field.
Out there it's fucking crazy.
You could get killed out there.
(tv noises)
The Mold: Lookin' good, Jack!
Ian: What.The. Fuck.
The Mold:You planning on staying conscious this time?
Ian: I may not be conscious now.
The Mold: Oh you are, Jack
More so than before, in fact.
The Mold would say you're nearly enlightened.
At a precipice. A turning point.
And The Mold heard you on the horn, you know.
The Mold thinks you're making a mistake.
Ian: I think talking to the grime is a mistake.
I think thinking the grime is
talking to me is a mistake.
How much of that shit did I inhale?
The Mold:Too much, not nearly enough.
That's not really the question you want
to ask, Jack. That's not an answer you want to hear.
Ian: The answer I want to hear
is that you're nut talking to me right now.
That the fucking scum-
The Mold: Fungus!
Ian: fungus, is not fucking
correcting my vocabulary.
The Mold: Come here, Jack
Ian: My name is Ian!
The Mold:The Mold knows, Jack. Come here.
Ian: I don't think you do know,
because you keep calling me "Jack".
The Mold: Closer.
Ian: You seem pretty pretty pissed
when I called you scum. I think there's
an analog there. You can grab onto that. Relate to it.
The Mold: Closer still.
Ian: Some people don't like their own name,
I, personally, like mine.
This is why calling me anything
other than my proper name kind of...
(loud burp)
(coughing)
(knocking on door)
TV guy!
Don't worry buddy that's him,
that's the fix-it guy!
Hey, oh shit.
Box. Hi. What's going on?
Box: They used to call me "Box the Ox."
Did you know that?
"Box" because I was a fighter
and "Ox" on account of me being naturally large.
I never knew what an ox was until my brother
who they called "Little Randall" on account of
him being even bigger than me,
told me it was like a bull, only dumber.
I didn't much like that, and it sort of
stuck with me for some time.
Recently, I went to visit Little Randall
in the stoney lonesome, you know what he says?
Ian: What did he say-?
Box: Shut up.
You know what he says?
He says, "There's old Box the Ox,
come to visit his big brother in the bucket!"
Ian: Wow, I mean okay.
Box: You ever been to a prison Folliver?
Ian: I've never
Box: Shut up.
They've gut these little booths you sit at
to visit with who ever it is you're
supposed to be visiting only you're separated
by this bullet-proof glass with little holes
drilled in so you can talk. There's this other
square hole down at the bottom where you can
put your hands through and shake hands
or if you have to or pass things through.
So I go like I'm going to shake Little Randall's hand
and he puts it in that little hole,
only it's both of his hands on account
of him being in the rings.
You know what I did then?
Shut up!
I took his one hand like I was gonna shake it,
but I pulled on it instead, and when his wrist
got stuck in that little square hole,
on account of the rings, you see,
I turned those hands around 'till the left one
was where the right one was
supposed to be, and the right one was
was where the left one was supposed to be.
Little Randall yelled like when you
stab a cow in the belly, and I was dragged away
by the bluebells all the while telling Little Randall
he shouldn't have called me dumb like that,
and at least I'm not in the bucket,
at least l got a building, and property,
and tenants who pay me rent,
and hands that still work like hands are supposed to.
Ian: Look, if this is about back rent-
Box: This isn't about back rent, Folliver, it's about family.
Little Randall thinks I got a situation
where I'm paid proper, he's got this idea
cause I told him and I'd hate to lie to my family.
Imagine what they'd say, yeah?
Ian: Look-
Box: Shut up.
I need some of that rent, I don't care how much,
I just need to know you're not trying to
take advantage of old Box; aren't trying
to make him a liar to his big
brother stuck in the bucket!
Ian: I can do that.
I can get you some rent.
Box: That's good to hear,
there are plenty of things I don't much like to hear.
That you can't get me vent, is something I like to hear.
Ian: I can understand -
Box: Shut up.
Give me something soon, soon okay Folliver?
Ian: Yeah, Box of course.
This might sound weird to you,
but I actually have all the money that I owe you.
Box: What's the problem then?
Ian: Well, you live way on the other side
of the complex, you know?
I haven't left this apartment in
going on 16 months now, I think
And this is the problem,
for me at least, I'm not interested
particularly in leaving either.
Box: Mail it.
Ian: Mailbox is out there.
Box: I'll come back then.
(knocking on door)
When should I come back?
Hey, Folliver you listening to me?
When do you want me to come back?
Ian: whenever..
Box: Right, I'll be back here in three days.
You have your rent together
and we won't have a problem.
Ian: Yeah, uhuh, sure.
Box: Three days Folliver
[magical music]
Guy: Not so fast, heh.
Ian: Who the fuck are you?
Plasmoday: You see that?
That's a thing of beauty, I've been using it for years.
Not many people can do that,
what I just did. Art sort of thing.
Ian: Your foot?
Plasmoday: Well it's sort of lodged in there,
I'd ask you to shut the door to illustrate
but we just did that.
Ian: Yeah, I meant to do that.
That was me trying to shut my door.
Plasmoday: Right, and there she is.Thing of beauty.
So. Task at hand. Let's see your busted set.
Ian: My what?
Oh! Oh Kent! My television!
You're the TV guy.
TV guy: Yeah, that's me.TV guy.
Ian: Wow. Look, I'm really sorry,
I was all just trying to shut my door,
you were like boom right in there, you know?
I didn't know you from Adam.
Plasmoday: Funny you should say that, may I come in?
Ian: Yeah, of course, sorry come right in.
Kent, my television, is right over there.
Plasmoday: So this is it, huh?
Ian: Yeah, that's him. He's been in my family for years.
Plasmoday: I can see that.
Ian: I was just watching it-
Plasmoday: Nope!
(ominous music)
(groaning)
Got it, okay baby, here we go!
Ian: Whoa, the fuck?!
Plasmoday: Your set's dead, pal.
Ian: You licked my TV!
Plasmodayf:Tubes fried.
Ian: You licked Kent.
Plasmoday: You're not gonna find
a replacement for this old thing.
Ian: With your tongue.
Plasmoday: You consider plasma?
Ian: I don't even know what that is.
Plasmoday: You don't need to know what it is,
you just need to know that you need it.
Ian: I'm not sure that I do.
Plasmoday: You do, pal.
You really do.
This set is old news. It's a relic.
This sort of thing serves no
purpose in today's society, this sort of thing
Ian: I think we're done here.
Plasmoday: Don't do that.
Look you need state of the art.
This sort of thing is what'll get you
through your current predicament.
Ian: Excuse me?
Plasmoday: Your predicament.
Ian: Which predicament is that exactly?
(hissing noises)
(ominous music)
Plasmoday: You can't hide it, Ian.
It's all over you, I can smell it.
Ian: I haven't bathed in months.
Plasmoday: You're suffering, I can stop that suffering.
Ian: I'm still not sure what you're talking about,
but I need you to leave my apartment.
Plasmoday: I tasted your suffering, I swallowed it!
You really should consider getting a plasma.
(vomiting)
(screaming)
(whimpering)
Ian: What the fuck?!
(crying)
What is this shit all over me?
It tastes like brussels sprouts
and melted plastic, and potatoes when
they've gone bad, I just vomited on this
seriously creepy guy on his seriously
creepy face off with it, it's all over my teeth
and it's all over my shirt, and it
The Mold: Cool your jets, Jack
Take a blip and breathe in the atmo..
You only just narrowly escaped that one
and you haven't even started your journey.
Ian: What are you talking about?!
Why RTE you talking?!
Journey, what journey?!
The Mold: Don't answer the door again.
Ian: Just tell me what's going on.
The Mold:The Mold will, that and much much more,
but The Mold can't have you going square on it again.
When The Mold talks, you listen, you got it Jack?
Ian: How can I have a journey if I don't open the door?
The Mold:The Mold is about two shakes
from totally frosted right now.
Tell The Mold you won't open that door again.
Ian: What if it
The Mold: Say it!
Ian: It could be Box.
The Mold:Tell The Mold you won't open that dour again.
Say those words.
Ian: I won't open the door again.
(door knocking)
The Mold: Pull it back, Jack.
Ian: I need to get that.
The Mold:You need to sit down.
Ian: But the door!
The Mold:The Mold! got plans for you, kid!
Big Plans!
(The Mold laughing)
(knocking on door)
It goes like this, Jack.
You're in a bad way, something fierce.
The Mold can see that, The Mold can feel that.
Right now, you're a goldfish in an eight-ounce glass,
you got nowhere to go and you don't even know it.
You're stuck, you're clutched!
And the world is just gonna keep
getting smaller for you unless
you kick and scream and claw your way out of it.
Out of the mess and the hurt and the regret!
You've got to
Ian: Who are you again?
The Mold: Hohoh, don't do that, Jack.
Don't do that again.
Ian: I'm sorry, what?
The Mold:You interrupted The Mold,
that's not copacetic, Jack.
You and The Mold need to be crystal on that
or The Mold closes its
Ian: I think that may actually be a great idea.
The Mold: Hey, The Mold doesn't think you fully
Ian: Disaster,
The Mold: What?
Ian: It was the first thing that came to mind, not necessarily
the idea of a disaster, but the word, you know?
I believe you were saying something?
The Mold:You interrupted The Mold.
Ian: I did?
The Mold: Let's you and The Mold
get something daisies, okay?
The Mold is here to help you, Jack
The Mold wants to get you back on your feet!
The Mold wants to get you rocked rightways,
on the stick locked, loaded, ready for action.
Ian: I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're saying.
I mean I'm still trying to deal with the idea
that you are saying, that you can say.
I mean, all things considered, isn't this
you talking thing a bit out there?
The Mold: Out there?
Out there, Jack, is a wet
t-shirt contest and a nursing home!
Out there is running against Reagan in '84.
Out there is locking yourself up from
the better part of forever stuck in front of the
boob tube eating eight-day-old take out from the floor!
This isn't out there, bub.
This is an opportunity!
Ian: An opportunity, for what exactly?
The Mold: An opportunity for growth, Jack.
Look you don't have anything
penciled in for this week, right?
Give The Mold till the weekend to get you straight.
If you don't like it, you can go back
to your shit standard torpor,
no questions asked.
Ian: What's the catch?
The Mold: Catch?
Well, little things, nothing really,
The Mold has very few needs.
Just do a few odd bits and bytes here and there
and our deal is made in the shade,
YOU dig it?
Ian: You kind of get to a point
in which all television can be plotted
into two main categories,
Star Trek and everything else.
Everything else is mostly
sentimental high school bullshit,
and the Star Trek can only be
distinguished by the fact
that there's so damn much of it.
I'd like to see Gene Roddenberry,
the creator of Star Trek,
and Aaron Spelling, the creator of
well, everything else, pitted against each other
in some sort of barbaric trial by total ass-kicking,
wilderness, survival, huntsman thing,
where out of the box, each man gets a
2-lb slab of beef, canister of castor oil,
and a UV-reactive poster of a unicorn,
and they must survive the elements and kill the other
guy before the audience changes the channel.
Then again, Gene Roddenberry just died, and so did Kent.
Sure, why not.
The Mold: Wise choice, Jack.
Ian: Ian.
The Mold: Wise choice.
Ian: With Kent busted, and StarTrek
at an all time low anyway, I thought
I might as well give him the week.
How else am I gonna spend my time?
The Mold: First thing's first.
(grumbling)
Eat this.
Take it.
Eat it.
Ian: I'm not sure what
(laughing)
Hello?
Zygor: You're a rookie, huh?
I remember when I was a rookie.
Ian: What the fuck?
Zygor: That was like
three episodes ago, I guess.
Wow, time does fly.
Ian: Officer Zygor, alien cop?
Starr: He doesn't get it, Officer Zygor.
Zygor: I know it good buddy,
you're still all twisty in the noodle.
Ian: But what is it that I don't get?
Starr: Well, you see, you probably think
you're standing here, butt naked
with Officer Zygor, alien cop,
and his trusty side-kick, Barnard Starr, right?
As evidence would suggest.
Ian: Hey, ow, ow, ow!
Starr: Evidence aside, I would suggest
that you re-evaluate your situation.
Ian: Hey, man,Jesus christ.
What the fuck is going on?
Zygor: Is this real?
I want you to tell me If this is real or not.
Ian: How the shit should I know?
Zygor: You're asking me a very human question.
L, as you may know, am not,
in point and fact, at all human.
Ian: This can't be real.
Zygor Why not?
Because I'm from the eastern rim
of the Nartarian sector?
Is that too out there for you?
Ian: Look, wait, no!
(painful groan)
Dog Homey Bro: 'Sup dog?
Homey Bro, yo. It's on!
Ian: I don't even like tomatoes.
(scream s)
(genie laughing)
(Ian vomiting)
[crowd jeering]
Genie: It sates itself on the life-blood of fated men,
paints the powers homes with crimson gore.
Black become the sun s beams
in the summers that fallow, weathers all treacherous.
Do you still seek to know? And what?
(alarm blaring)
(ominous music)
Ian: Mold.
The Mold:The Mold.
Ian: The Mold?
The Mold: Yes, Jack?
Ian: What's happening to me?
The Mold:That's easy Jack, you're coming around.
You need a few Z's though.
Crank out some drowsy cloth
and get back to me when you're ready to get going.
Ian: Going where?
The Mold:To Successville, Jack, Successville!
Mighty night.
(door knocking)
[keys jingling)
(laughing)
Hey, Jack.
Leah: Shit!
Ian: Ten sixteen, ten sixteen, ten sixteen.
(door knocking)
Vanessa: Ian B. Folliver?
Ian: The B is for Brady.
Vanessa: Right.
Oh hey, I have your groceries you ordered.
That's what I'm doing out here.
Holding all of your groceries.
Ian: Where's Willis?
Vanessa:Who's Willis now?
Ian: Willis is my delivery guy.
He delivers my groceries every 18 days.
The same order every 18 days.
Vanessa: Oh, well he's probably
somebody else's delivery guy now.
It works like that, move on, move up.
You mind if I actually deliver these groceries?
You ordered a lot of heavy shit.
So. You live here? Okay.
We had almost everything on the list,
we were missing the malt extract,
and our pharmacy had to special order the tryptone.
You cleared us out of ribeye and Gro-Moar, though,
so it's kind of give and take.
Ian: I have no idea what you just said.
Vanessa: I mean, that the malt extract
and tryptone will probably have to be
dropped off in the next day or two.
Ian: Who are you again?
Vanessa: Vanessa. Shop MOAR. Grocery delivery?
You know, when you think think think,
and your thinkin's gotcha thinking,
think Shop MOAR Delivery Grocers
on Weston!
Think Shop MOAR, Jerrystown?
Ian: What is all this stuff?
Vanessa:Your groceries, are you high?
Ian: I didn't order any cf this stuff I
Where are my real groceries?
Vanessa:These ones here,
these are your real groceries, you ordered them.
Fax machine says you did, see this?
That's you, Ian B. Folliver
lan:The B is for Brady.
Vanessa: Right, that's your order.
And that's me, Vanessa, right next
to the 15.8% gratuity reminder.
Right next to the 15.8% gratuity reminder.
Ian: Please leave.
Vanessa: That's fair.
You haven't gotten your whole order yet,
so I don't get the tip, I'm okay with that.
Ian: Vanessa,Just please leave.
Vanessa: I'll be back with the rest of your order
when it comes in, and I'd appreciate
some recognition at such a time.
Are we agreed?
It's a deal.
(sighs)
lan:What is all this stuff?
The Mold:This, Jack. This is the beginning.
Ian: I didn't order any cf this stuff I
Well maybe the B-Sha-Ka,
but I don't even know what Agar-Lax is.
The Mold: It's a laxative for celery heads.
Ian: And why do I need that?
The Mold: You don't.
Ian: What about Meno-Propyl, what's that?
The Mold:That's girls stuff, Jack-0. For the
rough stuff, middle of the month.
Ian: I'm sorry which one of us is a girl?
A's you a girl?
The Mold:The Mold is The Mold.
You're losing focus, Jack.
You answered the door.
Ian: I did! It's my door.
The Mold:You didn't give The Mold a chance to advise,
you didn't work teamwise with The Mold.
Ian: You stopped making sense
when you started talking, man.
The Mold:The Mold started talking
when you needed it to, Jack
The Mold started talking
because it has a plan for you.
Ian: You keep telling me that.
The Mold: And it never ceases to be so.
Ian: Why does this shit
in my bathroom wall have a plan?
How does that even work?
I have a hard time with two-step instant
Bu-Sha-ka and the algae has a plan.
The Mold:The Mold, Jack.
Look this is all for you, all of it.
Ian: All of the weird shit?
The Mold: Yes!
These things The Mold tossed on
to your monthly supply drop are growing things.
You remember growing, right Jack?
You were a little sprout once, yes?
A little whip in the wind?
Remember the smiles, Jack?
Remember the discovery of life?
The Mold, is life.
There's a whole world of dandies
and fantastics waiting for you to pull up
hop out and dance for them.
And The Mold wants you to live!
Ian: I don't get it, why?
The Mold: Because you're special, Jack.
And The Mold needs you to believe that.
Ian: I don't get it, why?
The Mold: So that we can begin.
Jack, are you ready to begin?
Ian: What do you want me to do?
(S-bit music)
It had been quite awhile since
I liked anything substantial,
anything cultured, that's for sure.
The Mold taught me how to love life,
and how to get up and move.
He taught me how to keep up with things,
I always had a problem with that.
You can tell you're happy
when you nick yourself
with a razor and it hurts again.
Maybe you even nicked yourself
because you were smiling.
Maybe you were smiling because you
remembered what it meant to look nice.
Why was I listening to The Mold?
I like to think I'm smart enough
to know when someone's smarter than me,
be it a lower form of life or whatever.
Within a day or two, I was no longer
Ian Brady Folliver, the lump on
the couch with the TV fixation.
I was on top of life again, in control, with it.
And I had a friend.
As the week went on, I began to spend
more and more time with The Mold.
He seemed to know just
what to do Tn any situation.
He turned out to be a frightfully
intelligent chunk of fungus.
I also started looking at girls.
Well, girl.
The universe in motion became her,
she was everything I wasn't,
everything I wanted to be,
everything I wanted to be with.
The entirety of life was in her walk.
For her, I would, oh shit.
(door knocking)
Mold?
Mold!
(door knocking)
Leah: Hi, my name is Leah.
I just think you should know that,
if you're going to be door stalking me.
Ian: I, I wasn't I don't Mold?
Leah: Listen, Box wouldn't rent to you
if you were a schizoid or a toe cutter
or some other word for weirdo,
so I'm not worried you're gonna come
shooting out of your hobbit hole
and rape me until I shit a mouse,
I just wanted you to know where I stand.
Ian: It's just that I don't know how
Leah: Whenever you look through your peephole,
it goes from light to dark
a guy's eyeball looking through it.
I follow a very specific routine,
and It seems that you do too.
I just thought it would be meaningful
for you to have a name to go with the face.
Also, I wanted a face to go
with the odd guy's eyeball.
I figured we could workout the name to face
ratio disparity at a future date.
Ian: I can't I can't
Leah: I need to get back to my routine,
you have a great day.
You'll see me tomorrow, okay?
Ian: Okay.
Leah: There was some guy out here yesterday
trying to pick your locks.
Box escorted him outwith a baseball bat.
Later, oddball.
Ian: Leah.
Mold!
The Mold:The Mold.
Ian: The Mold.
The Mold:what you got, pal-o-mine?
Ian: I met her, her name's Leah, and she
(screaming)
Tell me again that I'm not there.
The Mold:This is ridiculous, Jack.
Ian: Tell me again, that I'm not over there.
Right there, on the floor.
The Mold: With you over there,
who would be talking to The Mold right now?
Ian: That's my point.
That's exactly my point.
The Mold: Whatever you think is there, Jack,
it's not there, take it from The Mold.
Ian: I can see me, I can see me there.
Oh god, I think I'm...
The Mold: You're right here, Jack.
You're talking to The Mold,
The Mold's talking right back at you.
Look at The Mold.
Lean dawn here, come on.
Ian: Look at me, I'm rotting.
Jesus, I smell.
The Mold: Look atThe Mold.
Do you feel it, Jack?
Ian: No.
I don't feel anything.
(vomiting)
The Mold: Yes, hahaha!
Give it here.
(screaming)
(The Mold laughing)
(door knocking)
Don't you do it,Jack!
Ian: Fuck you, buddy.
Uniformed Man: Mr. Folliver?
Ian: Yes, that's me.
I've been the same me for years,
no one has come to my door.
All of a sudden it's Grand fucking Central in here.
I have no idea who you are,
come on in, weird me out.
Uniformed Man: Are you sure this is a good time?
Ian: It has never been a good time.
Now is as good a time as never,
you have 20 seconds to blow my mind.
You're a bit late to the party,
there's been some tough acts.
Uniformed Man: If you don't mind.
Ian: Not at all, sprout a second head,
punch me in the gut.
Uniformed Man: Well I don't know about all that,
Mr. Folliver, but what I do know about is televisions.
Take that one, for instance.
That's a 1964 Commodore.
That was at the top of its class.
That TV's a classic.
Ian: Yeah, it's busted.
The other guy said I should get a plasma.
Uniformed Man: Do you know anything
about plasmas, Mr. Folliver?
Ian: Not a single thing at all.
Uniformed Man: Mind if I take a look at this beauty?
Ian: The other guy, he licked it.
Uniformed Man: Did he?
Ian: Licked it with his tongue,
and told me I needed a plasma.
Uniformed Man: Well you have a beautiful set here, sir.
Ian: You aren't going to lick it, right?
Uniformed Man: Oh, I don't see any reason
to have to do that now.
I would, however, like to poke around
a bit and see what's what.
Ian: His name's Kent.
Uniformed Man: Hmm!
Let's see.
Oh, you are in possession of
a very special item here, Mr. Folliver.
Ian: Oh yeah?
Uniformed Man: Oh yes sir, I have a similar set at my home.
I cherish it, it has never let me down.
Ian: Kent gave up on me, left me hereto die.
Uniformed Man: Oh I doubt that very much, Mr. Folliver.
I think that with a little bit of attention
we should be able to get to the bottom
of this and get old Kent here back into action.
You know what makes a set
like this special is the history.
This set was put together by a skilled craftsman
and a series of skilled assembly workers;
each one of them doing what he or she loved to do.
Every element of this set's construction
was labored over, tuned and placed by hand.
Some would say that this time consuming task
was inefficient. That construction of one
of these sets was a stepping stone to
better crafted technologies. But I personally feel
that we've lost much of what
makes our appliances special.
Old Kent here has likely been in your family for years.
Ian: Well he belonged to my Grandfather,
then my Dad, then my Uncle, then me.
Uniformed Man: See that's what we at the reparation
business like to call legacy.
Kent here, Kent has a legacy.
The set I have at home has a similar legacy.
Yes, he's been passed from father to son
going back as far as this technology does.
I'll pass it along to my oldest son and one day
he'll enjoy it with his son.
Throughout it all, each one of us will have
enjoyed that set for the entirety of our lives,
and that's something that'll remain strong
and constant, by gully, entertaining all those years.
Just as long as we love it, it'll love us back
As long as we take care of it,
it'll take care of us in return.
See, that's the nature of the
relationship with a good appliance. That's the nature.
Hold on a minute here, hold on.
I think I found the culprit.
Your tube's been corroded.
Looks like you have a mold problem.
Ian: Yes, yes it does.
Uniformed Man: Well I got a spare tube in the truck
I can have this fixed for you in a jiffy.
Ian: Thank you, I'll leave it unlocked.
Uniformed Man: Sure thing.
Ian: Mold problem.
You fucked my television!
The Mold:Whoa,The Mold wouldn't go so far as to say that.
Ian: You fried Kent.
The Mold:The Mold cut a tie,
The Mold broke a barrier,
The Mold set you free, Jack.
Ian: My name is Ian.
Mold:The Mold knows, Jack, The Mold knows.
Ian: What the hell are you?
The Mold: Your friend, your only friend.
Ian: Kent was my friend, you know.
And you killed him.
The Mold:what did he ever do for you, huh?
He cost you money. He kept you dormant.
He locked you to the couch,
and he sold you out for advertising dollars.
He janked you,Jack.
He pulled you into the world of the unreal.
The Mold gave you something.
Made something of you.
What did that squatbox ever
actually do for you, really?
Ian: Look, I'm really confused right now.
Do you remember that time my body was
decomposing in the bathroom just a few minutes ago?
Because I do. Because it was just a few minutes ago!
The Mold:That was shadow play. Puppetry.
That was something inside of you
trying to take all of this away.
That's why The Mold's working on you, Jack.
That's why you and The Mold
are a king team in a world of ant holes.
Uniformed Man: Mr. Folliver, I patched up old Kent here,
so he should be good as new.
The Mold: You let it go.
Uniformed Man: Mr. Folliver?
The Mold: Think of the philly with the danger eyes
and draped shape that you could take to the races.
You want to try out that classy jazzy, right Jack?
Ian: Leah?
The Mold:Just the pigeon I mean.
Uniformed Man: Okay, so I'll leave the bill on the set,
Mr. Folliver. Just settle it whenever you can.
Ian: What are you saying about Leah?
The Mold:That you have a shot with that one.
That The Mold wants to get you into that dance.
Ian: You can help me talk to Leah?
The Mold: Pfff, much more than that, Jack.
Ian: What else do you need me to do?
I left rotting meat everywhere,
cut the walls up like it was swiss cheese,
and I spread weird shit all over everything I own!
The Mold:Just do whatThe Mold says. That's all.
That's all The Mold will ever need, Jack.
Ian: Must be the TV guy.
He must have left something here.
What should I do?
The Mold: Good, Jack that's what The Mold needs
from you, that kind of attention to detail.
This one': simple.
Answer the door.
Vanessa: So I've got the rest of your
order from before, whoa!
You look amazing!
Two bottles of malt extract
and one container of tryptone.
Hey, what exactly is tryptone?
Ian: I have no idea.
Vanessa:This whole place looks amazing.
When I was here a few days ago,
it was a total hole, you know?
I'm impressed.
Ian: Why are you talking?
Vanessa:Well, I was thinking,
you got a metric fuck ton of Gro-MOAR,
and what can only described as a weird
load of yeast dude-pills,
and all types of crazy stuff.
I come over here now, and your place
looks like something out of a
better homes and hobags, and I'm just
blown the fuck away by how uncreepily
creepy your life must be.
You're making drugs, or bombs,
or a space shuttle to the moon
or something in here, right?
Are you a physicist?
Ian: Please leave now.
Vanessa: Oh this again. I'll need that gratuity.
That tryptone, or whatever, didn't take
the crosstown, two locals, and dodge a hobo
with his dick out to get here all by itself.
Ian: I don't have any cash.
Vanessa:Then I don't have any reason to leave.
Hey, is that one of those old televisions?
Alien:This empress region of the second circle of"
(sighs)
(tv background noises)
(mold creature squeaking)
Ian: Hey, hey, wake "P!
Please wake up?
Oh shit!
You have to wake up!
Right new, seriously.
Mold!
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
(whimpering)
(tv static noises)
Kathy B.:Woo, you just run and run!
It's really that easy!
Most people don't like running.
But all it takes is a little push and you're off!
Now get up off your tush, tush, tush because
Police officer: You don't belong here
and you shouldn't be here!
You got stuck here on your way
some place else. And man you to find that some place.
(singing)
You could be a ha-ha-happy man,
you know you can, you know you gotta
Arm the Boldecka Chromus Device.
Tommy Katakana: Which is strung, how strong?
Super mega strong extreme').!
It can cut through anything,
even the toughest materials,
and still say super mega sharp extremal!
Even cold rolled steel!
Kathy B.: I know you're listening to me,
you need to keep listening to me,
it's the only way you're going to work this out.
I've been here for you, I will always be here for you.
It': because you need"
(explosion)
(ominous music)
What am I doing?
Mold, what do I do?
What do I do?!
The Mold: Come here, Jack
lan:With this girl?!
I have this girl, shit how does this help?
This doesn't help!
The Mold: Jack throttle it back,
put it into neutral, and ride the line.
The Mold needs you, right here, front, center, now.
Ian: My shit. I'm losin' it. All my shit.
The Mold:There's an answer to this.
The Mold has you covered over, Jacko.
No one will know what you've done.
Ian: What I've done?!
What have I done?!
The Mold:You snapped that paper shaker
right into the deep sleep for one,
she doesn't look like a very flirty butterfly
anymore, Jack. Broken wings.
Ian: What have you done to my apartment?
The Mold:We're gonna have to do
something about this dead weight.
Ian: That was you, right?
That was you in the wall?
The Mold: Sulfuric acid. Quick-Lye. Acetylene.
Mag-Seven Ultrasonic Resonators.
These are things that men own.
Ian: The holes you had me drill.
That's what those were for?
The Mold: A hand saw. A hand saw and trash bags,
a hand saw, trash bags and a bucket.
Ian: You had me drill those holes everywhere!
The Mold:You drilled those holes everywhere,Jack.
Ian: I thought we were partners?
I thought we had some kind of a deal!
The Mold: And look at what you've done!
Ian: You've infected me with something.
You've infected my apartment with something!
The Mold: Life, Jack!
Growth!
Where there was once only death,
The Mold has brought a flowering of life!
Come closer to The Mold, Jack.
Jack, The Mold wants to help you,
come closer to The Mold.
Ian: I am losing my place here, Mold.
The Mold:The Mold.
Ian: It's like I don't know where I am
at any point in time.
I've become untethered.
Things are happening, and I'm nut a part of them,
but they are me. I'm happening and
I don't understand how!
The Mold:The Mold knows, Jack. The Mold knows.
Let's you and The Mold re-focus.
Let's you and The Mold clean up this mess,
and then get your hand into the pants
of that dully down doors-wise.
Ian: Leah.
The Mold: Yes, look atThe Mold, Jack
Look good and hard.What you are looking at
is what you need if you want
to get close to that pigeon.
Jack, you're missing something.
It left you sometime ago. It came
spinning out of you stinking, and rotten atrophied,
and forgotten and The Mold has grown
because of it. Because of you.
It's The Molds turn now to pay you back, Jack!
Look at The Mold!
Lay your eyes across the landscape
of your long waking dream.
(rumbling)
Now, look at that.
That's for you, Jack!
That will give you your answers.
I've made that just for you.
Lick it.
Wm your tongue.
Jace: Reach for the clouds, jagoff.
Stricker: Hands in the air, cocksucker!
Ian: Wait!
Jace: Quit pining nutsack, we're taking you in!
Stricker: You're going down
if those hands of yours aren't reaching
for god's cockin two seconds!
Jace: Nice one, Strip!
Stricker: Thanks!
Jace: What are you doing?
Stricker: What are you doing?
Jace: He's going for a gun!
Ian: No, no!!!!
(gunshot)
Declination Jane: You didn't think
I'd let you leave, did you?
That you could just walk away from this?
I made you, you were nothing without me.
You were pathetic before I found you.
Everything you have is yours
because I choose it to be yours.
If you stand, it is because I will it.
And if you leave it will be in
a lev board in a body module!
Starr: Jane!
(gunshot)
(slap)
Kathy B.:You've done a great job.
Really, I mean that was a hell of a workout.
Wouldn't you say so audience at home?
Now lock, you may have them fooled,
but you and I both know, I'm behind all of this.
You do exactly what I say,
if you want to come out of this
anything more than a sweat stain
on the workout mat of eternity.
Now, on to toning!
Ian: Leah.
Now, lunge!
Doctor: We're losing him!
Give me the paddles!
Ian: Hey, I'm not.
Doctor: Let's do this, clear!
(screaming)
(flatline beep)
Unmasked Doctor:This one's long gone, good riddance.
Bag him, cut the body into pieces.
Doctor: What?!
Unmasked Doctor: Cut it, cut it, cut it!
Tommy Katakana: Cut it, cut it, cut it!
Super mega strong blade!
Cut it, cut it, cut it!
(vomiting)
(screaming)
(The Mold laughing)
Leah: Oddball!
Ian: Leah.
Leah: I'm here because I wanted
to give the door stalking thing a shot.
Also, to learn your name.
You've got a name, right?
Ian: My name is Ian.
Leah: Hello, Ian.
Look I know I may have come off a bit
on the aggressive side yesterday,
I thought if I weirded you out a little bit,
you might not want to door stalk me so much,
but when you stopped, I felt even weirder.
Weirder still, is when I realized
I liked it a lot, you staring at me.
Ian: I don't.
Leah: Hey this is good, I'm the creepy one now.
Even steven.
Ian: Ian.
Leah: How would you feel about me coming inside?
How would you feel about
getting to know me a little better?
Ian: I would like that.
Leah: I think I would like that as well.
Ian: It's just that ..
Leah: Don't worry I'm no clean freak
I won't judge.
Ian: Well, it's, yeah, hold on.
One more minute.
The Mold: Bumbumbumburn.
Ian: What did you do to her?
The Mold, hey, where's that Shop-MOAR girl?
The Mold!
The Mold: Oh hey, welcome back,Jack.
Ian: What did you do with the Shop-MOAR girl?
The Mold:The Mold! not reading you
too clearly here, Jack
Ian: The delivery girl, Vanessa, in the tub!
Where is she?
The Mold:You're a slot car without
a track right now, Jack.
You're up the wall buddy.
Ian: Leah is outside, right now.
The Mold: Bitchin!
Ian: She wants to come inside.
The Mold: Great, good, man, yes!
Ian: Shut up!
I want her to come inside,
I want her to come inside right now,
you can't be here.
The Mold: But Jack, The Mold is everywhere.
Ian: lf she finds you, you're done, we're done.
The Mold: But if you want to get this bird
jacketed, Jack, you and The Mold are going
to have to work together!
Ian: Shut up.Just shut up until she's gone.
That's all I need from you.
The Mold: Fine, you'll get nothing but help
from The Mold, Jack.
Ian: Stop!
The Mold: It's the only reason that The Mold is here!
Ian: Shut it!
Fucking dick, man.
(grumbling)
I'm sorry about that.
Leah: No problem.
Ian: Oh my god, do you see that girl?
Leah: Yeah, you just fax in your order.
Welcome to the future.
Hey, can I come in?
Earth to Ian, can I come into your space ship now?
Ian: Yes, please, I'm sorry.
Leah: Nice digs.
Oh wow, look at that TV.
Ian: His name's Kent.
Leah: You named your television?
Ian: I guess so, yeah.
Leah: This couch is a bit old, we can fix that.
Do you mind?
Ian: Oh no, I think it's broken though.
J Dogg: One more in through the nose,
and out through the nose.
You feel me?
All that stress and shit, you just gotta let it go.
Sometimes you just gotta get
Commercial: To gently place the two pieces
of meat together, like so.
Leah: Are you watching this?
Ian: I've never really had a girl on my couch.
Leah: I've never really had a girl on your couch either
we should make membership cards,
apply for a tax ID.
Ian: what?
Leah: I'm not watching this,
I'm thinking about you.
Ian: Me?
Leah: Yes, you, Ian, the boy in the bubble
with his telescope trained on to look at wildlife.
You're a total enigma to me.
I usually have things figured out in a snap,
I usually know what's up before gravity.
But you're a mystery though.
I've never kissed a mystery before.
Ian, are you okay?
Ian!
(vomiting)
Ian: Not you, not you!
Leah: Ian calm down!
It's okay! It's okay!
What have you been eating?
Ian: I don't know!
Leah: I need to use your restroom.
Your place has the same layout as mine only flipped.
That puts the bathroom down there, right?
Ian: I'm sorry!
(whimpering)
Fuck!
Leah: Who is it?
Ian: It's Ian, I cleaned the couch.
Leah: Ian who?
Ian: Ian Folliver?
This is my apartment, I live in it.
You're in my bathroom.
Leah: I guess you can come in then.
Did you bring me a shirt?
Ian: Yes I did, it's my favorite shirt.
It's washed too, which is good.
It was in the kitchen, not right now,
but when I was cleaning.
And then I washed it with laundry, so now its
Leah: Give it here.
Ian: It's clean now.
Hey.
Lea h: Hey.
So what are all those holes in the wall?
Ian: I was gonna hang pictures.
Leah: Really?
Ian: No, I go kind of crazy in here, alone.
I don't know what I made them for.
Leah: Weirder and weirder.
What have we got to eat?
I'm sure you're hungry after that barf.
Ian: I'm pretty sure I've got some Bu-Sha-Ka.
You know, the noodles.
No Scare-Berry though.
Leah: Shame, I'll take an original,
if you don't mind going through all the trouble
of boiling some water.
Hey, how'd you know I like Scare-Berry?
Ian: I didn't. I just like it, a lot.
My mom never let me have it as a kid.
Leah: Get out!
Ian: I'm sorry.
Leah: Figure of speech, space man.
Ian: Wait what?
Leah: It was a figure of speech.
I don't actually want you to get out.
And even if I did, this is your place.
I definitely don't want you to leave.
Can I hang this?
Ian: Have we met before?
Leah: Is this that game where we
have to answer every question with a question?
Ian: Have we met before?
Leah: Yes, Ian, I came to your front door
after a few days of being gawked at.
Tried to blew your mind up.
Ian: And that's it?
Leah: That's it,Jack.
Ian: What did you just say?
Leah: I said that's it.That's the only time we've met.
Ian: Why did you call me Jack?
Leah: Are you gonna get that?
Box: Well would you look at that. Folliver, I'm impressed!
Ian: Box!
Box:This place was the ass end of the building
going on a year, I get complaints you know,
people wanting Box to knuckle you out of here,
you're kind of a nut, you know?
Cleaned this place up good, though, real good.
Ian: Thanks.
Box: Don't thank me yet, Folliver.
It's been three days, I need that rent.
Ian: Oh shit.
Box: That's not what I want to hear from you, Ian.
Ian: Box.
Box: Shut up. Excuses are what people pay me
when they ain't got rent.
Ian: I can have
Box: Shut up!
You ever broke a chimp's arm before?
Ian: Fuck.
Box: They're real tough, they gut bones like they
were made of rock. It's like breaking
a slab of concrete trying to
break a chimpanzee's arm.
They won't just let you do it either.
They're fighters. They fight dirty.
When that arm snaps, there's this scream.
It's like when you set a church on fire
with a broom handle stuck in the door,
its not just one sound, it's a hundred sounds
all balled up into one terrifying song.
You ever heard that?
Ian: No, Box
Box: Shut up.
After breaking the chimp's arm,
it's not so hard anymore breaking a man's.
Leah: la n, is everything okay?
Hey, Ian you're gonna miss the
Box: Folliver is that a girl I hear?
Ian: Yes, Box.
Box: With tits?
Ian: She has those, yes.
Box: She in your bathroom?
Ian: She is, yes. No shirt. You heard her.
Box: You devil, you demon,
I had no idea you had that kind of metal
Folliver, really I didn't.
Ian: I'm not sure that I do either.
Box: This whole time I had you figured a fag.
I was giving you the grief so you didn't
try to sneak it in. I had no idea you went for skirts.
And there's one in your place right now, huh?
Ian: Yes, a girl, in my place, with tits.
Box: So this is why.
Okay, I'll be back tomorrow.
You give me that rent then,
minus whatever it takes to get this legger
over the barrel, you know what I mean?
Ian: Thanks, Box.
Box: You know what l mean though?
Ian: I do. I know exactly what you mean.
Box: I mean sex!
Ian: Thanks, Box.
Leah: I was wondering if you left.
Ian: I haven't left in more than a year.
Leah: Geez, and when did you
start door stalking me?
Ian: A few days age, I think?
Things got really weird when
I tried to kill myself.
Leah: Go on, Ian.
Ian: I tried to gas myself there,
in the bathtub, but I have a vent.
Leah: Were you cleaning?
Ian: No, I mean I actually tried to kill myself.
Like with everything in my life, I failed.
Everything until now.
Now with you in my bathroom.
Leah: Listen to me, I'm here because I want to be.
I want to know you. Learn about you.
Ian: There's not much to learn Leah.
I'm a loser.
I'm a slot car without a track.
I lost my plans, my ambitions, my direction.
Leah: Stand up.
Dc you know anything about bees?
Ian: Not a single thing.
I mean yeah of course, I know about bees,
Leah: You have a queen bee and a drone bee,
and a billion million worker bees.
Ian: I think I knew that, yeah.
Leah: The drone bee is an outcast.
The worker bees will try to kill him
if he gets too close to the hive.
Ian: Suck!
Leah: Total suck!
That is of course, unless there's a new queen.
A queen that has to mate.
Ian: Go on.
Leah: The queen beef lies out of her hive,
the one time that she ever leaves the comfort
of her daily routine, like ever, and flies
to the drone who's been waiting for her.
Unsure at first, they fly around one another
showing off, until they get too close.
Ian: What happens then?
Leah: They become irresistibly attracted
to one another, they go wild with passion.
To show their love for one another, they dance.
Ian: Dance?
Leah: Yeah, they dance.
Ian: I think I want to try.
I've never really danced before.
Leah: That's just it, neither the queen
or the drone have ever danced before.
Love makes them do it, love.
The Mold: Right, that's just about enough of that.
That's right sweet-tits.
Leah: lan? What the fuck?
The Mold:Think you could have found something bigger?
(Leah screams)
(Ian screams)
(The Mold laughs)
Ian: Fuckerl!
(ominous music)
Panic is a weird state.
Not like Wyoming is a weird state either.
Panic will grab you. Won't let you go.
Panic will make you do things
that you might not ever do on your own.
More than love, or anger, or excitement.
Panic will drive you like a truck
And god help whatever's in your way.
Panic connects us to the animals.
Panic is common, if I go to the zoo,
everyone will jump. Even the tigers. It's built in.
It protects us.
It protects us from those things
that would otherwise play our more
susceptible emotions against us.
Right now.
Right now.
I'm panicking.
That was my almost girlfriend.
She kissed me.
The Mold:That was a two-rag skag
with no real interest in you, Jack.
She should have lit up your tilt sign
the minute she stepped into this joint.
She wasn't earthbound, Jacko,
she wasn't circle worthy,
what could she have given you
that The Mold couldnt?
Tell me that!
Ian: You were helping me though.
You cleaned me up.
You taught me to be me again.
To try at least.
The Mold:The Mold was helping you
dig a manhole, drop some pipe.
The mold wanted your whistle wet for what comes next.
It got too deep too quick though.
She gut into you.
Ian: I was into her.
The Mold:Jack, dame: bring you down.
A woman is what bends a man's knees.
And a man with bent knees
can't stand on his own.
Ian: What comes next?
The Mold: Ah, commitment.
Ian: Commitment to what?
The Mold:The Mold.
Ian: I think that you think that
that is supposed to mean something to me.
The Mold:The Mold doesn't care
if it does or it doesn't, Jack
Only that you do what The Mold says.
Ian: I think I'm done with that.
The Mold: Really, The Mold thinks otherwise.
Ian: I am not going to eat that.
The Mold: Let's you and The Mold say
that you're in a room with 26 doors in it,
and each one of these doors has,
Ian: Shut up.
The Mold:You do that again, and
Ian: And what?
The Mold:The Mold has warned you about interrupting!
If you have the jets, you'll shoot
low from here on out, Jack
Ian: I'm not okay.
The Mold: Why not?
You're all done up, your nest is settled.
You're chrome plated. You've got the stuff
to get heavy when it comes to it.
And even to take someone apart
when it comes to that.
The Mold thinks you're getting closer
to sevens, Jack. The Mold thinks
you're going to make a great man!
Ian: Ian thinks you're full of shit.
Ian thinks you need to be dealt with.
(screaming)
The Mold: As do all things, Jacko.
So too shall you return to the earth
a sullen and broken mess.
Food for those things at your back while you lived.
Those things ignored.
Your flesh shall cry cacophony
and that life which was once neglected,
shall hear this song and shall teem
upon you until there is nothing of you left,
but the filth and detritus that describe your life!
(whimpering)
And what is left, that nest of filth collected,
shall cw for escape and shall scream
with a mouth of horned teeth and flaming tongue.
It shall beg the decades for release
and spew forth lies and deceit
as frequently as it does the spore that spread it.
And so onto the earth did man plant himself,
saying this is the place of my sons and my sons' sons
and the earth did laugh at this, for man's
very first vital breath was his infection.
(scream s)
Sleep the sleep of stone.
Dream the dreams of man.
When you wake, when you wake,
I will be here, Ian.
Good morning, sunshine!
Welcome back to the land of the living!
You okay, buckaroo?
You still in orbit?
You listening to me,Jack?
Ian: My name's Ian.
Nature channel voice: when the drone
is pressured to leave, if he does not leave,
he will never mate. If he never mates,
he will die.
J Dogg:You feel me?
All that stress and shit?
You just gotta let it go.
That's what this shit is all about.
It's real shit, it's called death yoga.
It's gonna rock your world.
Alright, breathe in, come on
deep breath that shit. Hold it.
Hold on to it, baby.
Because once you let it go, you're gone.
You ready, breathe in.
Let it out.
(door knocking)
Box: Mr. Folliver, wake up!
Get some pants on!
You owe me rent!
(door knocking)
Ian Folliver, open up!
You owe me an ass load of rent, buddy.
I don't even know if you're alive so I can change that.
J Dogg:We're gonna do two more breaths here.
In through the nose,
Box: Folliver, open up or I'm going to exercise
my right to fist fuck your face!
Alright Folliver, I'm coming in.
You better have your dick situated.
Hey man, rent!
Folliver!
(shooting noises)
[so ream)
Jace: He's a fucking door nail.
He made for his gun and you made him dead.
It's what we do man.
Stricker: The body count, it's just too high.
Jace: It's what we do!
We have to man up and get over this.
Stand up. Leave together.
Everything goes back to normal.
Think about it, you've got a hot body.
You've got a great head of hair.
You know what I have?
That's a phone number from a hot blonde,
who's twins with another hot blonde
that looks just like her.
Stricker: Let's rid e.
Kathy B.: And that's it, when, walk it off.
Yes, that's right. Now pop out the tape
and take a breather. You've done enough.
Don't even rewind it this time.
Just leave it out, I think you're done
with this workout. Now go out and get
Zygor: My work here is done,
thanks for being there when I needed you.
The stars, they call me.
Starr: Today, the precinct, tomorrow, the galaxy!
(laughing)
(explosion)
Ian: His name was Kent, he was my
(alarm blaring)
Ian: I'm Ian.
Leah: Hello Ian, I'm Leah.
Ian: I've kind of been watching you.
Leah: I kind of think l knew that, Jack
(8-bit music)
(tv noises)
(8-bit music)
His name was Kent.
He was my television set.
He died somewhere around week 67.
Odd. I'd always thought I'd be the first to go.
Oh...no!
No!
(clicking remote)
No, no, no, no!
No, no, fuck!
(exasperated sighing)
(clicking remote)
(whimpering)
(slow steady beat turning into techno music)
Aaaahhhh!!!
(sobbing)
Kent was really the only piece
of non-furniture I half-expected
to stay with me through this whole thing.
All of the fish had given themselves up
to a more aerated lifestyle by week 10.
In March I stopped watering the house plants.
They were planning something untoward
and needed to be dealt with.
Every day is the same.
Every day I wake up to find
that absolutely nothing! changed.
If it wasn't for the sores,
I don't think I'd have a reason to get up at all.
Anyway, it's usually noon
by the time I roll my ass off the couch.
I stopped setting my alarm
sometime during the second week
There's really no point,
not necessarily in setting it, but in being alarmed.
What do I have to be alarmed about?
No bro named Brent calls me in the morning
asking me to meet for an iced latte.
No corporate success storie is on hold
because of me not showing up for a few months.
No hot little hard body is tiddling it to
a polaroid on her desk at my dumb ass.
And my fucking television set,
just ate it like Rice KrispieTreats.
Kent...Kent, Jesus.
What the hell, man?
My seclusion has made me reconsider things;
the very meaning of life itself, in point and fact.
A few months of nothing and sooner or later,
everything starts to seem like nothing.
We had a pact, man!
A covenant.
During this sort of recognition-
of-self-worthlessness processed,
it seems one finds it easier to question things
that a normal, healthy citizen might take for granted.
For instance, my daily struggle
between the couch and the crapper.
It's not as easy as you may think it is
to shit when that lonely shit
is the absolute culmination of your entire day.
While it is necessary for all creatures
to periodically excrete unneeded
and potentially harmful substances
for prim and proper metabolic maintenance,
the impulse to indulge in this otherwise
simple, natural act, serves as
sort of a field test for people like me.
(straining)
We think a little differently
when it comes to bowel movements
because they are an expression of life.
And life is hateful
Life is death, and pain, and anger,
(straining)
and solitude, and fury, all wrapped up
in a tricky little package and sold to you
like you should really be into this shit.
(straining)
You know kittens?
Kittens are killers, man.
They are killing machines.
They aren't playing with you
and your milkring, or your shoelace,
or that organic yuppie yarn you use on the bus
to show everyone how unique you are for knitting.
(straining)
They're training to fuck some other animal up.
Pull the legs off the spider, eat the eyeballs
out of a pigeon, that's life.
That right there is life, man.
Life is shit.
Now imagine that that shit right there
was the highlight of your day.
That shit is the shit I have been fighting
everyday for the last six months on this island earth.
Without Kent, all I have is a semi-regular
shit to get worked up about.
Not anymore.
This shit, that shit ends right here.
If you mix 2 parts common household bleach
and 1 part sulfuric acid, you get chlorine gas.
Boosh.
Chlorine gas was wildly used during
the first world war as a biological
contaminant. To kill people, lots of people.
If sulfuric acid isn't immediately available,
you could probably make do with any
common ammonia based glass cleaner, I think.
Let's find out.
The direct effect of so potent a mixture
in a case such as my own? Six months
of torturous, pointless, soul-sucking
seclusion brought to one disgustingly glorious end,
and one seriously clean-ass bathtub.
(vent whirring)
My name's Ian, by the way.
(B-bit horror music)
(tv static noises)
The Mold: Good morning, Sunshine.
Welcome back to the land of the living!
(Ian groaning)
Ian: What the christ happened?
The Mold:You okay buckaroo?
You still in orbit?
(Ian coughing)
Man, you're a real dream you knew that?
Hey, you listening to me nosebleed?
Hey Jack, you were going
for pinks back there, huh?
That was the real deal,
That was real deal, what with the tub full of short stuff.
What are you after, aftermath?
Ian: Oh shit, that didn't work at all.
The Mold:Jlack, do The Mold a real solid, alright?
Grab up all of your jacks and
marbles and bouncy balls and listen to me
for a second. Can you do that, Jack?
Ian: My name's Ian.
The Mold: Oh The Mold knows,Jack,The Mold knows.
(The Mold laughs)
Ian: I'm talking to the grime now.
God, what the fuck did I do to my head?
They say, and Blue Oyster Cult
will totally back me up on this,
that 40,000 men and women die everyday.
Being that there are only 1,444 seconds
in any given 24-hour period, it seems
seriously screwed up to me that I have failed
so righteously a task that the rest of the world
seems perfectly capable of committing
something like 30 times a fucking second.
In the time it takes me to walk
from the shitter to the sitter,
60 average, every-day, run-of-the-goddamn-mill
people manage to shuffle off.
You know, failure at any number of
standard tasks can end in death.
You fail at driving? Dead.
You fail at crossing the street? Dead.
You fail at preparing certain forms
of pacific rim seafood? Neuro-toxic shock
a pretty wild, pre-death state, but then, dead.
What happens if you fail at suicide?
You fail at death itself.
Me, that's what.
At least I've got Kent.
(tv explodes)
Fuck!
(dialing phone)
Yes, hello, I'm looking for someone
to come fix my television.
No, no, yes, no well, you see it's an old
sort of thing, no I don't think plasma
was even invented at the time, no,
wait what even is plasma?
I just need to find a place to get this fixed,
can you get me that?
ATV repair place, thank you.
Hi there, my TV is out and
I need someone to come fix it.
I have no idea what plasma even is,
so I don't think so, I don't know,
I'd have to ask my dad, but he's dead, so.
Look it's like a cabinet with a TV in it.
It's something you'd imagine
microwave TV dinners were invented for.
It's old, it's made from wood.
Tree wood. From trees.
My uncle used to call it "The Commodore",
l always just called him Kent.
You know "The Commodore" like
in the navy or star fleet or something.
Today would be best, yeah.
I don't know, anytime between
now and tomorrow works for me.
Sure, it's Ian Folliver,
606 South Brightmore number 108.
No, yeah - I'll be here.
That front door and I have a bit of a thing
in so much that I've pretty much
stayed away from it unless
there was pizza on the other side.
There's this kind of forcefield
keeping me from going through there.
A force-of-will field.
Out there it's fucking crazy.
You could get killed out there.
(tv noises)
The Mold: Lookin' good, Jack!
Ian: What.The. Fuck.
The Mold:You planning on staying conscious this time?
Ian: I may not be conscious now.
The Mold: Oh you are, Jack
More so than before, in fact.
The Mold would say you're nearly enlightened.
At a precipice. A turning point.
And The Mold heard you on the horn, you know.
The Mold thinks you're making a mistake.
Ian: I think talking to the grime is a mistake.
I think thinking the grime is
talking to me is a mistake.
How much of that shit did I inhale?
The Mold:Too much, not nearly enough.
That's not really the question you want
to ask, Jack. That's not an answer you want to hear.
Ian: The answer I want to hear
is that you're nut talking to me right now.
That the fucking scum-
The Mold: Fungus!
Ian: fungus, is not fucking
correcting my vocabulary.
The Mold: Come here, Jack
Ian: My name is Ian!
The Mold:The Mold knows, Jack. Come here.
Ian: I don't think you do know,
because you keep calling me "Jack".
The Mold: Closer.
Ian: You seem pretty pretty pissed
when I called you scum. I think there's
an analog there. You can grab onto that. Relate to it.
The Mold: Closer still.
Ian: Some people don't like their own name,
I, personally, like mine.
This is why calling me anything
other than my proper name kind of...
(loud burp)
(coughing)
(knocking on door)
TV guy!
Don't worry buddy that's him,
that's the fix-it guy!
Hey, oh shit.
Box. Hi. What's going on?
Box: They used to call me "Box the Ox."
Did you know that?
"Box" because I was a fighter
and "Ox" on account of me being naturally large.
I never knew what an ox was until my brother
who they called "Little Randall" on account of
him being even bigger than me,
told me it was like a bull, only dumber.
I didn't much like that, and it sort of
stuck with me for some time.
Recently, I went to visit Little Randall
in the stoney lonesome, you know what he says?
Ian: What did he say-?
Box: Shut up.
You know what he says?
He says, "There's old Box the Ox,
come to visit his big brother in the bucket!"
Ian: Wow, I mean okay.
Box: You ever been to a prison Folliver?
Ian: I've never
Box: Shut up.
They've gut these little booths you sit at
to visit with who ever it is you're
supposed to be visiting only you're separated
by this bullet-proof glass with little holes
drilled in so you can talk. There's this other
square hole down at the bottom where you can
put your hands through and shake hands
or if you have to or pass things through.
So I go like I'm going to shake Little Randall's hand
and he puts it in that little hole,
only it's both of his hands on account
of him being in the rings.
You know what I did then?
Shut up!
I took his one hand like I was gonna shake it,
but I pulled on it instead, and when his wrist
got stuck in that little square hole,
on account of the rings, you see,
I turned those hands around 'till the left one
was where the right one was
supposed to be, and the right one was
was where the left one was supposed to be.
Little Randall yelled like when you
stab a cow in the belly, and I was dragged away
by the bluebells all the while telling Little Randall
he shouldn't have called me dumb like that,
and at least I'm not in the bucket,
at least l got a building, and property,
and tenants who pay me rent,
and hands that still work like hands are supposed to.
Ian: Look, if this is about back rent-
Box: This isn't about back rent, Folliver, it's about family.
Little Randall thinks I got a situation
where I'm paid proper, he's got this idea
cause I told him and I'd hate to lie to my family.
Imagine what they'd say, yeah?
Ian: Look-
Box: Shut up.
I need some of that rent, I don't care how much,
I just need to know you're not trying to
take advantage of old Box; aren't trying
to make him a liar to his big
brother stuck in the bucket!
Ian: I can do that.
I can get you some rent.
Box: That's good to hear,
there are plenty of things I don't much like to hear.
That you can't get me vent, is something I like to hear.
Ian: I can understand -
Box: Shut up.
Give me something soon, soon okay Folliver?
Ian: Yeah, Box of course.
This might sound weird to you,
but I actually have all the money that I owe you.
Box: What's the problem then?
Ian: Well, you live way on the other side
of the complex, you know?
I haven't left this apartment in
going on 16 months now, I think
And this is the problem,
for me at least, I'm not interested
particularly in leaving either.
Box: Mail it.
Ian: Mailbox is out there.
Box: I'll come back then.
(knocking on door)
When should I come back?
Hey, Folliver you listening to me?
When do you want me to come back?
Ian: whenever..
Box: Right, I'll be back here in three days.
You have your rent together
and we won't have a problem.
Ian: Yeah, uhuh, sure.
Box: Three days Folliver
[magical music]
Guy: Not so fast, heh.
Ian: Who the fuck are you?
Plasmoday: You see that?
That's a thing of beauty, I've been using it for years.
Not many people can do that,
what I just did. Art sort of thing.
Ian: Your foot?
Plasmoday: Well it's sort of lodged in there,
I'd ask you to shut the door to illustrate
but we just did that.
Ian: Yeah, I meant to do that.
That was me trying to shut my door.
Plasmoday: Right, and there she is.Thing of beauty.
So. Task at hand. Let's see your busted set.
Ian: My what?
Oh! Oh Kent! My television!
You're the TV guy.
TV guy: Yeah, that's me.TV guy.
Ian: Wow. Look, I'm really sorry,
I was all just trying to shut my door,
you were like boom right in there, you know?
I didn't know you from Adam.
Plasmoday: Funny you should say that, may I come in?
Ian: Yeah, of course, sorry come right in.
Kent, my television, is right over there.
Plasmoday: So this is it, huh?
Ian: Yeah, that's him. He's been in my family for years.
Plasmoday: I can see that.
Ian: I was just watching it-
Plasmoday: Nope!
(ominous music)
(groaning)
Got it, okay baby, here we go!
Ian: Whoa, the fuck?!
Plasmoday: Your set's dead, pal.
Ian: You licked my TV!
Plasmodayf:Tubes fried.
Ian: You licked Kent.
Plasmoday: You're not gonna find
a replacement for this old thing.
Ian: With your tongue.
Plasmoday: You consider plasma?
Ian: I don't even know what that is.
Plasmoday: You don't need to know what it is,
you just need to know that you need it.
Ian: I'm not sure that I do.
Plasmoday: You do, pal.
You really do.
This set is old news. It's a relic.
This sort of thing serves no
purpose in today's society, this sort of thing
Ian: I think we're done here.
Plasmoday: Don't do that.
Look you need state of the art.
This sort of thing is what'll get you
through your current predicament.
Ian: Excuse me?
Plasmoday: Your predicament.
Ian: Which predicament is that exactly?
(hissing noises)
(ominous music)
Plasmoday: You can't hide it, Ian.
It's all over you, I can smell it.
Ian: I haven't bathed in months.
Plasmoday: You're suffering, I can stop that suffering.
Ian: I'm still not sure what you're talking about,
but I need you to leave my apartment.
Plasmoday: I tasted your suffering, I swallowed it!
You really should consider getting a plasma.
(vomiting)
(screaming)
(whimpering)
Ian: What the fuck?!
(crying)
What is this shit all over me?
It tastes like brussels sprouts
and melted plastic, and potatoes when
they've gone bad, I just vomited on this
seriously creepy guy on his seriously
creepy face off with it, it's all over my teeth
and it's all over my shirt, and it
The Mold: Cool your jets, Jack
Take a blip and breathe in the atmo..
You only just narrowly escaped that one
and you haven't even started your journey.
Ian: What are you talking about?!
Why RTE you talking?!
Journey, what journey?!
The Mold: Don't answer the door again.
Ian: Just tell me what's going on.
The Mold:The Mold will, that and much much more,
but The Mold can't have you going square on it again.
When The Mold talks, you listen, you got it Jack?
Ian: How can I have a journey if I don't open the door?
The Mold:The Mold is about two shakes
from totally frosted right now.
Tell The Mold you won't open that door again.
Ian: What if it
The Mold: Say it!
Ian: It could be Box.
The Mold:Tell The Mold you won't open that dour again.
Say those words.
Ian: I won't open the door again.
(door knocking)
The Mold: Pull it back, Jack.
Ian: I need to get that.
The Mold:You need to sit down.
Ian: But the door!
The Mold:The Mold! got plans for you, kid!
Big Plans!
(The Mold laughing)
(knocking on door)
It goes like this, Jack.
You're in a bad way, something fierce.
The Mold can see that, The Mold can feel that.
Right now, you're a goldfish in an eight-ounce glass,
you got nowhere to go and you don't even know it.
You're stuck, you're clutched!
And the world is just gonna keep
getting smaller for you unless
you kick and scream and claw your way out of it.
Out of the mess and the hurt and the regret!
You've got to
Ian: Who are you again?
The Mold: Hohoh, don't do that, Jack.
Don't do that again.
Ian: I'm sorry, what?
The Mold:You interrupted The Mold,
that's not copacetic, Jack.
You and The Mold need to be crystal on that
or The Mold closes its
Ian: I think that may actually be a great idea.
The Mold: Hey, The Mold doesn't think you fully
Ian: Disaster,
The Mold: What?
Ian: It was the first thing that came to mind, not necessarily
the idea of a disaster, but the word, you know?
I believe you were saying something?
The Mold:You interrupted The Mold.
Ian: I did?
The Mold: Let's you and The Mold
get something daisies, okay?
The Mold is here to help you, Jack
The Mold wants to get you back on your feet!
The Mold wants to get you rocked rightways,
on the stick locked, loaded, ready for action.
Ian: I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're saying.
I mean I'm still trying to deal with the idea
that you are saying, that you can say.
I mean, all things considered, isn't this
you talking thing a bit out there?
The Mold: Out there?
Out there, Jack, is a wet
t-shirt contest and a nursing home!
Out there is running against Reagan in '84.
Out there is locking yourself up from
the better part of forever stuck in front of the
boob tube eating eight-day-old take out from the floor!
This isn't out there, bub.
This is an opportunity!
Ian: An opportunity, for what exactly?
The Mold: An opportunity for growth, Jack.
Look you don't have anything
penciled in for this week, right?
Give The Mold till the weekend to get you straight.
If you don't like it, you can go back
to your shit standard torpor,
no questions asked.
Ian: What's the catch?
The Mold: Catch?
Well, little things, nothing really,
The Mold has very few needs.
Just do a few odd bits and bytes here and there
and our deal is made in the shade,
YOU dig it?
Ian: You kind of get to a point
in which all television can be plotted
into two main categories,
Star Trek and everything else.
Everything else is mostly
sentimental high school bullshit,
and the Star Trek can only be
distinguished by the fact
that there's so damn much of it.
I'd like to see Gene Roddenberry,
the creator of Star Trek,
and Aaron Spelling, the creator of
well, everything else, pitted against each other
in some sort of barbaric trial by total ass-kicking,
wilderness, survival, huntsman thing,
where out of the box, each man gets a
2-lb slab of beef, canister of castor oil,
and a UV-reactive poster of a unicorn,
and they must survive the elements and kill the other
guy before the audience changes the channel.
Then again, Gene Roddenberry just died, and so did Kent.
Sure, why not.
The Mold: Wise choice, Jack.
Ian: Ian.
The Mold: Wise choice.
Ian: With Kent busted, and StarTrek
at an all time low anyway, I thought
I might as well give him the week.
How else am I gonna spend my time?
The Mold: First thing's first.
(grumbling)
Eat this.
Take it.
Eat it.
Ian: I'm not sure what
(laughing)
Hello?
Zygor: You're a rookie, huh?
I remember when I was a rookie.
Ian: What the fuck?
Zygor: That was like
three episodes ago, I guess.
Wow, time does fly.
Ian: Officer Zygor, alien cop?
Starr: He doesn't get it, Officer Zygor.
Zygor: I know it good buddy,
you're still all twisty in the noodle.
Ian: But what is it that I don't get?
Starr: Well, you see, you probably think
you're standing here, butt naked
with Officer Zygor, alien cop,
and his trusty side-kick, Barnard Starr, right?
As evidence would suggest.
Ian: Hey, ow, ow, ow!
Starr: Evidence aside, I would suggest
that you re-evaluate your situation.
Ian: Hey, man,Jesus christ.
What the fuck is going on?
Zygor: Is this real?
I want you to tell me If this is real or not.
Ian: How the shit should I know?
Zygor: You're asking me a very human question.
L, as you may know, am not,
in point and fact, at all human.
Ian: This can't be real.
Zygor Why not?
Because I'm from the eastern rim
of the Nartarian sector?
Is that too out there for you?
Ian: Look, wait, no!
(painful groan)
Dog Homey Bro: 'Sup dog?
Homey Bro, yo. It's on!
Ian: I don't even like tomatoes.
(scream s)
(genie laughing)
(Ian vomiting)
[crowd jeering]
Genie: It sates itself on the life-blood of fated men,
paints the powers homes with crimson gore.
Black become the sun s beams
in the summers that fallow, weathers all treacherous.
Do you still seek to know? And what?
(alarm blaring)
(ominous music)
Ian: Mold.
The Mold:The Mold.
Ian: The Mold?
The Mold: Yes, Jack?
Ian: What's happening to me?
The Mold:That's easy Jack, you're coming around.
You need a few Z's though.
Crank out some drowsy cloth
and get back to me when you're ready to get going.
Ian: Going where?
The Mold:To Successville, Jack, Successville!
Mighty night.
(door knocking)
[keys jingling)
(laughing)
Hey, Jack.
Leah: Shit!
Ian: Ten sixteen, ten sixteen, ten sixteen.
(door knocking)
Vanessa: Ian B. Folliver?
Ian: The B is for Brady.
Vanessa: Right.
Oh hey, I have your groceries you ordered.
That's what I'm doing out here.
Holding all of your groceries.
Ian: Where's Willis?
Vanessa:Who's Willis now?
Ian: Willis is my delivery guy.
He delivers my groceries every 18 days.
The same order every 18 days.
Vanessa: Oh, well he's probably
somebody else's delivery guy now.
It works like that, move on, move up.
You mind if I actually deliver these groceries?
You ordered a lot of heavy shit.
So. You live here? Okay.
We had almost everything on the list,
we were missing the malt extract,
and our pharmacy had to special order the tryptone.
You cleared us out of ribeye and Gro-Moar, though,
so it's kind of give and take.
Ian: I have no idea what you just said.
Vanessa: I mean, that the malt extract
and tryptone will probably have to be
dropped off in the next day or two.
Ian: Who are you again?
Vanessa: Vanessa. Shop MOAR. Grocery delivery?
You know, when you think think think,
and your thinkin's gotcha thinking,
think Shop MOAR Delivery Grocers
on Weston!
Think Shop MOAR, Jerrystown?
Ian: What is all this stuff?
Vanessa:Your groceries, are you high?
Ian: I didn't order any cf this stuff I
Where are my real groceries?
Vanessa:These ones here,
these are your real groceries, you ordered them.
Fax machine says you did, see this?
That's you, Ian B. Folliver
lan:The B is for Brady.
Vanessa: Right, that's your order.
And that's me, Vanessa, right next
to the 15.8% gratuity reminder.
Right next to the 15.8% gratuity reminder.
Ian: Please leave.
Vanessa: That's fair.
You haven't gotten your whole order yet,
so I don't get the tip, I'm okay with that.
Ian: Vanessa,Just please leave.
Vanessa: I'll be back with the rest of your order
when it comes in, and I'd appreciate
some recognition at such a time.
Are we agreed?
It's a deal.
(sighs)
lan:What is all this stuff?
The Mold:This, Jack. This is the beginning.
Ian: I didn't order any cf this stuff I
Well maybe the B-Sha-Ka,
but I don't even know what Agar-Lax is.
The Mold: It's a laxative for celery heads.
Ian: And why do I need that?
The Mold: You don't.
Ian: What about Meno-Propyl, what's that?
The Mold:That's girls stuff, Jack-0. For the
rough stuff, middle of the month.
Ian: I'm sorry which one of us is a girl?
A's you a girl?
The Mold:The Mold is The Mold.
You're losing focus, Jack.
You answered the door.
Ian: I did! It's my door.
The Mold:You didn't give The Mold a chance to advise,
you didn't work teamwise with The Mold.
Ian: You stopped making sense
when you started talking, man.
The Mold:The Mold started talking
when you needed it to, Jack
The Mold started talking
because it has a plan for you.
Ian: You keep telling me that.
The Mold: And it never ceases to be so.
Ian: Why does this shit
in my bathroom wall have a plan?
How does that even work?
I have a hard time with two-step instant
Bu-Sha-ka and the algae has a plan.
The Mold:The Mold, Jack.
Look this is all for you, all of it.
Ian: All of the weird shit?
The Mold: Yes!
These things The Mold tossed on
to your monthly supply drop are growing things.
You remember growing, right Jack?
You were a little sprout once, yes?
A little whip in the wind?
Remember the smiles, Jack?
Remember the discovery of life?
The Mold, is life.
There's a whole world of dandies
and fantastics waiting for you to pull up
hop out and dance for them.
And The Mold wants you to live!
Ian: I don't get it, why?
The Mold: Because you're special, Jack.
And The Mold needs you to believe that.
Ian: I don't get it, why?
The Mold: So that we can begin.
Jack, are you ready to begin?
Ian: What do you want me to do?
(S-bit music)
It had been quite awhile since
I liked anything substantial,
anything cultured, that's for sure.
The Mold taught me how to love life,
and how to get up and move.
He taught me how to keep up with things,
I always had a problem with that.
You can tell you're happy
when you nick yourself
with a razor and it hurts again.
Maybe you even nicked yourself
because you were smiling.
Maybe you were smiling because you
remembered what it meant to look nice.
Why was I listening to The Mold?
I like to think I'm smart enough
to know when someone's smarter than me,
be it a lower form of life or whatever.
Within a day or two, I was no longer
Ian Brady Folliver, the lump on
the couch with the TV fixation.
I was on top of life again, in control, with it.
And I had a friend.
As the week went on, I began to spend
more and more time with The Mold.
He seemed to know just
what to do Tn any situation.
He turned out to be a frightfully
intelligent chunk of fungus.
I also started looking at girls.
Well, girl.
The universe in motion became her,
she was everything I wasn't,
everything I wanted to be,
everything I wanted to be with.
The entirety of life was in her walk.
For her, I would, oh shit.
(door knocking)
Mold?
Mold!
(door knocking)
Leah: Hi, my name is Leah.
I just think you should know that,
if you're going to be door stalking me.
Ian: I, I wasn't I don't Mold?
Leah: Listen, Box wouldn't rent to you
if you were a schizoid or a toe cutter
or some other word for weirdo,
so I'm not worried you're gonna come
shooting out of your hobbit hole
and rape me until I shit a mouse,
I just wanted you to know where I stand.
Ian: It's just that I don't know how
Leah: Whenever you look through your peephole,
it goes from light to dark
a guy's eyeball looking through it.
I follow a very specific routine,
and It seems that you do too.
I just thought it would be meaningful
for you to have a name to go with the face.
Also, I wanted a face to go
with the odd guy's eyeball.
I figured we could workout the name to face
ratio disparity at a future date.
Ian: I can't I can't
Leah: I need to get back to my routine,
you have a great day.
You'll see me tomorrow, okay?
Ian: Okay.
Leah: There was some guy out here yesterday
trying to pick your locks.
Box escorted him outwith a baseball bat.
Later, oddball.
Ian: Leah.
Mold!
The Mold:The Mold.
Ian: The Mold.
The Mold:what you got, pal-o-mine?
Ian: I met her, her name's Leah, and she
(screaming)
Tell me again that I'm not there.
The Mold:This is ridiculous, Jack.
Ian: Tell me again, that I'm not over there.
Right there, on the floor.
The Mold: With you over there,
who would be talking to The Mold right now?
Ian: That's my point.
That's exactly my point.
The Mold: Whatever you think is there, Jack,
it's not there, take it from The Mold.
Ian: I can see me, I can see me there.
Oh god, I think I'm...
The Mold: You're right here, Jack.
You're talking to The Mold,
The Mold's talking right back at you.
Look at The Mold.
Lean dawn here, come on.
Ian: Look at me, I'm rotting.
Jesus, I smell.
The Mold: Look atThe Mold.
Do you feel it, Jack?
Ian: No.
I don't feel anything.
(vomiting)
The Mold: Yes, hahaha!
Give it here.
(screaming)
(The Mold laughing)
(door knocking)
Don't you do it,Jack!
Ian: Fuck you, buddy.
Uniformed Man: Mr. Folliver?
Ian: Yes, that's me.
I've been the same me for years,
no one has come to my door.
All of a sudden it's Grand fucking Central in here.
I have no idea who you are,
come on in, weird me out.
Uniformed Man: Are you sure this is a good time?
Ian: It has never been a good time.
Now is as good a time as never,
you have 20 seconds to blow my mind.
You're a bit late to the party,
there's been some tough acts.
Uniformed Man: If you don't mind.
Ian: Not at all, sprout a second head,
punch me in the gut.
Uniformed Man: Well I don't know about all that,
Mr. Folliver, but what I do know about is televisions.
Take that one, for instance.
That's a 1964 Commodore.
That was at the top of its class.
That TV's a classic.
Ian: Yeah, it's busted.
The other guy said I should get a plasma.
Uniformed Man: Do you know anything
about plasmas, Mr. Folliver?
Ian: Not a single thing at all.
Uniformed Man: Mind if I take a look at this beauty?
Ian: The other guy, he licked it.
Uniformed Man: Did he?
Ian: Licked it with his tongue,
and told me I needed a plasma.
Uniformed Man: Well you have a beautiful set here, sir.
Ian: You aren't going to lick it, right?
Uniformed Man: Oh, I don't see any reason
to have to do that now.
I would, however, like to poke around
a bit and see what's what.
Ian: His name's Kent.
Uniformed Man: Hmm!
Let's see.
Oh, you are in possession of
a very special item here, Mr. Folliver.
Ian: Oh yeah?
Uniformed Man: Oh yes sir, I have a similar set at my home.
I cherish it, it has never let me down.
Ian: Kent gave up on me, left me hereto die.
Uniformed Man: Oh I doubt that very much, Mr. Folliver.
I think that with a little bit of attention
we should be able to get to the bottom
of this and get old Kent here back into action.
You know what makes a set
like this special is the history.
This set was put together by a skilled craftsman
and a series of skilled assembly workers;
each one of them doing what he or she loved to do.
Every element of this set's construction
was labored over, tuned and placed by hand.
Some would say that this time consuming task
was inefficient. That construction of one
of these sets was a stepping stone to
better crafted technologies. But I personally feel
that we've lost much of what
makes our appliances special.
Old Kent here has likely been in your family for years.
Ian: Well he belonged to my Grandfather,
then my Dad, then my Uncle, then me.
Uniformed Man: See that's what we at the reparation
business like to call legacy.
Kent here, Kent has a legacy.
The set I have at home has a similar legacy.
Yes, he's been passed from father to son
going back as far as this technology does.
I'll pass it along to my oldest son and one day
he'll enjoy it with his son.
Throughout it all, each one of us will have
enjoyed that set for the entirety of our lives,
and that's something that'll remain strong
and constant, by gully, entertaining all those years.
Just as long as we love it, it'll love us back
As long as we take care of it,
it'll take care of us in return.
See, that's the nature of the
relationship with a good appliance. That's the nature.
Hold on a minute here, hold on.
I think I found the culprit.
Your tube's been corroded.
Looks like you have a mold problem.
Ian: Yes, yes it does.
Uniformed Man: Well I got a spare tube in the truck
I can have this fixed for you in a jiffy.
Ian: Thank you, I'll leave it unlocked.
Uniformed Man: Sure thing.
Ian: Mold problem.
You fucked my television!
The Mold:Whoa,The Mold wouldn't go so far as to say that.
Ian: You fried Kent.
The Mold:The Mold cut a tie,
The Mold broke a barrier,
The Mold set you free, Jack.
Ian: My name is Ian.
Mold:The Mold knows, Jack, The Mold knows.
Ian: What the hell are you?
The Mold: Your friend, your only friend.
Ian: Kent was my friend, you know.
And you killed him.
The Mold:what did he ever do for you, huh?
He cost you money. He kept you dormant.
He locked you to the couch,
and he sold you out for advertising dollars.
He janked you,Jack.
He pulled you into the world of the unreal.
The Mold gave you something.
Made something of you.
What did that squatbox ever
actually do for you, really?
Ian: Look, I'm really confused right now.
Do you remember that time my body was
decomposing in the bathroom just a few minutes ago?
Because I do. Because it was just a few minutes ago!
The Mold:That was shadow play. Puppetry.
That was something inside of you
trying to take all of this away.
That's why The Mold's working on you, Jack.
That's why you and The Mold
are a king team in a world of ant holes.
Uniformed Man: Mr. Folliver, I patched up old Kent here,
so he should be good as new.
The Mold: You let it go.
Uniformed Man: Mr. Folliver?
The Mold: Think of the philly with the danger eyes
and draped shape that you could take to the races.
You want to try out that classy jazzy, right Jack?
Ian: Leah?
The Mold:Just the pigeon I mean.
Uniformed Man: Okay, so I'll leave the bill on the set,
Mr. Folliver. Just settle it whenever you can.
Ian: What are you saying about Leah?
The Mold:That you have a shot with that one.
That The Mold wants to get you into that dance.
Ian: You can help me talk to Leah?
The Mold: Pfff, much more than that, Jack.
Ian: What else do you need me to do?
I left rotting meat everywhere,
cut the walls up like it was swiss cheese,
and I spread weird shit all over everything I own!
The Mold:Just do whatThe Mold says. That's all.
That's all The Mold will ever need, Jack.
Ian: Must be the TV guy.
He must have left something here.
What should I do?
The Mold: Good, Jack that's what The Mold needs
from you, that kind of attention to detail.
This one': simple.
Answer the door.
Vanessa: So I've got the rest of your
order from before, whoa!
You look amazing!
Two bottles of malt extract
and one container of tryptone.
Hey, what exactly is tryptone?
Ian: I have no idea.
Vanessa:This whole place looks amazing.
When I was here a few days ago,
it was a total hole, you know?
I'm impressed.
Ian: Why are you talking?
Vanessa:Well, I was thinking,
you got a metric fuck ton of Gro-MOAR,
and what can only described as a weird
load of yeast dude-pills,
and all types of crazy stuff.
I come over here now, and your place
looks like something out of a
better homes and hobags, and I'm just
blown the fuck away by how uncreepily
creepy your life must be.
You're making drugs, or bombs,
or a space shuttle to the moon
or something in here, right?
Are you a physicist?
Ian: Please leave now.
Vanessa: Oh this again. I'll need that gratuity.
That tryptone, or whatever, didn't take
the crosstown, two locals, and dodge a hobo
with his dick out to get here all by itself.
Ian: I don't have any cash.
Vanessa:Then I don't have any reason to leave.
Hey, is that one of those old televisions?
Alien:This empress region of the second circle of"
(sighs)
(tv background noises)
(mold creature squeaking)
Ian: Hey, hey, wake "P!
Please wake up?
Oh shit!
You have to wake up!
Right new, seriously.
Mold!
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
(whimpering)
(tv static noises)
Kathy B.:Woo, you just run and run!
It's really that easy!
Most people don't like running.
But all it takes is a little push and you're off!
Now get up off your tush, tush, tush because
Police officer: You don't belong here
and you shouldn't be here!
You got stuck here on your way
some place else. And man you to find that some place.
(singing)
You could be a ha-ha-happy man,
you know you can, you know you gotta
Arm the Boldecka Chromus Device.
Tommy Katakana: Which is strung, how strong?
Super mega strong extreme').!
It can cut through anything,
even the toughest materials,
and still say super mega sharp extremal!
Even cold rolled steel!
Kathy B.: I know you're listening to me,
you need to keep listening to me,
it's the only way you're going to work this out.
I've been here for you, I will always be here for you.
It': because you need"
(explosion)
(ominous music)
What am I doing?
Mold, what do I do?
What do I do?!
The Mold: Come here, Jack
lan:With this girl?!
I have this girl, shit how does this help?
This doesn't help!
The Mold: Jack throttle it back,
put it into neutral, and ride the line.
The Mold needs you, right here, front, center, now.
Ian: My shit. I'm losin' it. All my shit.
The Mold:There's an answer to this.
The Mold has you covered over, Jacko.
No one will know what you've done.
Ian: What I've done?!
What have I done?!
The Mold:You snapped that paper shaker
right into the deep sleep for one,
she doesn't look like a very flirty butterfly
anymore, Jack. Broken wings.
Ian: What have you done to my apartment?
The Mold:We're gonna have to do
something about this dead weight.
Ian: That was you, right?
That was you in the wall?
The Mold: Sulfuric acid. Quick-Lye. Acetylene.
Mag-Seven Ultrasonic Resonators.
These are things that men own.
Ian: The holes you had me drill.
That's what those were for?
The Mold: A hand saw. A hand saw and trash bags,
a hand saw, trash bags and a bucket.
Ian: You had me drill those holes everywhere!
The Mold:You drilled those holes everywhere,Jack.
Ian: I thought we were partners?
I thought we had some kind of a deal!
The Mold: And look at what you've done!
Ian: You've infected me with something.
You've infected my apartment with something!
The Mold: Life, Jack!
Growth!
Where there was once only death,
The Mold has brought a flowering of life!
Come closer to The Mold, Jack.
Jack, The Mold wants to help you,
come closer to The Mold.
Ian: I am losing my place here, Mold.
The Mold:The Mold.
Ian: It's like I don't know where I am
at any point in time.
I've become untethered.
Things are happening, and I'm nut a part of them,
but they are me. I'm happening and
I don't understand how!
The Mold:The Mold knows, Jack. The Mold knows.
Let's you and The Mold re-focus.
Let's you and The Mold clean up this mess,
and then get your hand into the pants
of that dully down doors-wise.
Ian: Leah.
The Mold: Yes, look atThe Mold, Jack
Look good and hard.What you are looking at
is what you need if you want
to get close to that pigeon.
Jack, you're missing something.
It left you sometime ago. It came
spinning out of you stinking, and rotten atrophied,
and forgotten and The Mold has grown
because of it. Because of you.
It's The Molds turn now to pay you back, Jack!
Look at The Mold!
Lay your eyes across the landscape
of your long waking dream.
(rumbling)
Now, look at that.
That's for you, Jack!
That will give you your answers.
I've made that just for you.
Lick it.
Wm your tongue.
Jace: Reach for the clouds, jagoff.
Stricker: Hands in the air, cocksucker!
Ian: Wait!
Jace: Quit pining nutsack, we're taking you in!
Stricker: You're going down
if those hands of yours aren't reaching
for god's cockin two seconds!
Jace: Nice one, Strip!
Stricker: Thanks!
Jace: What are you doing?
Stricker: What are you doing?
Jace: He's going for a gun!
Ian: No, no!!!!
(gunshot)
Declination Jane: You didn't think
I'd let you leave, did you?
That you could just walk away from this?
I made you, you were nothing without me.
You were pathetic before I found you.
Everything you have is yours
because I choose it to be yours.
If you stand, it is because I will it.
And if you leave it will be in
a lev board in a body module!
Starr: Jane!
(gunshot)
(slap)
Kathy B.:You've done a great job.
Really, I mean that was a hell of a workout.
Wouldn't you say so audience at home?
Now lock, you may have them fooled,
but you and I both know, I'm behind all of this.
You do exactly what I say,
if you want to come out of this
anything more than a sweat stain
on the workout mat of eternity.
Now, on to toning!
Ian: Leah.
Now, lunge!
Doctor: We're losing him!
Give me the paddles!
Ian: Hey, I'm not.
Doctor: Let's do this, clear!
(screaming)
(flatline beep)
Unmasked Doctor:This one's long gone, good riddance.
Bag him, cut the body into pieces.
Doctor: What?!
Unmasked Doctor: Cut it, cut it, cut it!
Tommy Katakana: Cut it, cut it, cut it!
Super mega strong blade!
Cut it, cut it, cut it!
(vomiting)
(screaming)
(The Mold laughing)
Leah: Oddball!
Ian: Leah.
Leah: I'm here because I wanted
to give the door stalking thing a shot.
Also, to learn your name.
You've got a name, right?
Ian: My name is Ian.
Leah: Hello, Ian.
Look I know I may have come off a bit
on the aggressive side yesterday,
I thought if I weirded you out a little bit,
you might not want to door stalk me so much,
but when you stopped, I felt even weirder.
Weirder still, is when I realized
I liked it a lot, you staring at me.
Ian: I don't.
Leah: Hey this is good, I'm the creepy one now.
Even steven.
Ian: Ian.
Leah: How would you feel about me coming inside?
How would you feel about
getting to know me a little better?
Ian: I would like that.
Leah: I think I would like that as well.
Ian: It's just that ..
Leah: Don't worry I'm no clean freak
I won't judge.
Ian: Well, it's, yeah, hold on.
One more minute.
The Mold: Bumbumbumburn.
Ian: What did you do to her?
The Mold, hey, where's that Shop-MOAR girl?
The Mold!
The Mold: Oh hey, welcome back,Jack.
Ian: What did you do with the Shop-MOAR girl?
The Mold:The Mold! not reading you
too clearly here, Jack
Ian: The delivery girl, Vanessa, in the tub!
Where is she?
The Mold:You're a slot car without
a track right now, Jack.
You're up the wall buddy.
Ian: Leah is outside, right now.
The Mold: Bitchin!
Ian: She wants to come inside.
The Mold: Great, good, man, yes!
Ian: Shut up!
I want her to come inside,
I want her to come inside right now,
you can't be here.
The Mold: But Jack, The Mold is everywhere.
Ian: lf she finds you, you're done, we're done.
The Mold: But if you want to get this bird
jacketed, Jack, you and The Mold are going
to have to work together!
Ian: Shut up.Just shut up until she's gone.
That's all I need from you.
The Mold: Fine, you'll get nothing but help
from The Mold, Jack.
Ian: Stop!
The Mold: It's the only reason that The Mold is here!
Ian: Shut it!
Fucking dick, man.
(grumbling)
I'm sorry about that.
Leah: No problem.
Ian: Oh my god, do you see that girl?
Leah: Yeah, you just fax in your order.
Welcome to the future.
Hey, can I come in?
Earth to Ian, can I come into your space ship now?
Ian: Yes, please, I'm sorry.
Leah: Nice digs.
Oh wow, look at that TV.
Ian: His name's Kent.
Leah: You named your television?
Ian: I guess so, yeah.
Leah: This couch is a bit old, we can fix that.
Do you mind?
Ian: Oh no, I think it's broken though.
J Dogg: One more in through the nose,
and out through the nose.
You feel me?
All that stress and shit, you just gotta let it go.
Sometimes you just gotta get
Commercial: To gently place the two pieces
of meat together, like so.
Leah: Are you watching this?
Ian: I've never really had a girl on my couch.
Leah: I've never really had a girl on your couch either
we should make membership cards,
apply for a tax ID.
Ian: what?
Leah: I'm not watching this,
I'm thinking about you.
Ian: Me?
Leah: Yes, you, Ian, the boy in the bubble
with his telescope trained on to look at wildlife.
You're a total enigma to me.
I usually have things figured out in a snap,
I usually know what's up before gravity.
But you're a mystery though.
I've never kissed a mystery before.
Ian, are you okay?
Ian!
(vomiting)
Ian: Not you, not you!
Leah: Ian calm down!
It's okay! It's okay!
What have you been eating?
Ian: I don't know!
Leah: I need to use your restroom.
Your place has the same layout as mine only flipped.
That puts the bathroom down there, right?
Ian: I'm sorry!
(whimpering)
Fuck!
Leah: Who is it?
Ian: It's Ian, I cleaned the couch.
Leah: Ian who?
Ian: Ian Folliver?
This is my apartment, I live in it.
You're in my bathroom.
Leah: I guess you can come in then.
Did you bring me a shirt?
Ian: Yes I did, it's my favorite shirt.
It's washed too, which is good.
It was in the kitchen, not right now,
but when I was cleaning.
And then I washed it with laundry, so now its
Leah: Give it here.
Ian: It's clean now.
Hey.
Lea h: Hey.
So what are all those holes in the wall?
Ian: I was gonna hang pictures.
Leah: Really?
Ian: No, I go kind of crazy in here, alone.
I don't know what I made them for.
Leah: Weirder and weirder.
What have we got to eat?
I'm sure you're hungry after that barf.
Ian: I'm pretty sure I've got some Bu-Sha-Ka.
You know, the noodles.
No Scare-Berry though.
Leah: Shame, I'll take an original,
if you don't mind going through all the trouble
of boiling some water.
Hey, how'd you know I like Scare-Berry?
Ian: I didn't. I just like it, a lot.
My mom never let me have it as a kid.
Leah: Get out!
Ian: I'm sorry.
Leah: Figure of speech, space man.
Ian: Wait what?
Leah: It was a figure of speech.
I don't actually want you to get out.
And even if I did, this is your place.
I definitely don't want you to leave.
Can I hang this?
Ian: Have we met before?
Leah: Is this that game where we
have to answer every question with a question?
Ian: Have we met before?
Leah: Yes, Ian, I came to your front door
after a few days of being gawked at.
Tried to blew your mind up.
Ian: And that's it?
Leah: That's it,Jack.
Ian: What did you just say?
Leah: I said that's it.That's the only time we've met.
Ian: Why did you call me Jack?
Leah: Are you gonna get that?
Box: Well would you look at that. Folliver, I'm impressed!
Ian: Box!
Box:This place was the ass end of the building
going on a year, I get complaints you know,
people wanting Box to knuckle you out of here,
you're kind of a nut, you know?
Cleaned this place up good, though, real good.
Ian: Thanks.
Box: Don't thank me yet, Folliver.
It's been three days, I need that rent.
Ian: Oh shit.
Box: That's not what I want to hear from you, Ian.
Ian: Box.
Box: Shut up. Excuses are what people pay me
when they ain't got rent.
Ian: I can have
Box: Shut up!
You ever broke a chimp's arm before?
Ian: Fuck.
Box: They're real tough, they gut bones like they
were made of rock. It's like breaking
a slab of concrete trying to
break a chimpanzee's arm.
They won't just let you do it either.
They're fighters. They fight dirty.
When that arm snaps, there's this scream.
It's like when you set a church on fire
with a broom handle stuck in the door,
its not just one sound, it's a hundred sounds
all balled up into one terrifying song.
You ever heard that?
Ian: No, Box
Box: Shut up.
After breaking the chimp's arm,
it's not so hard anymore breaking a man's.
Leah: la n, is everything okay?
Hey, Ian you're gonna miss the
Box: Folliver is that a girl I hear?
Ian: Yes, Box.
Box: With tits?
Ian: She has those, yes.
Box: She in your bathroom?
Ian: She is, yes. No shirt. You heard her.
Box: You devil, you demon,
I had no idea you had that kind of metal
Folliver, really I didn't.
Ian: I'm not sure that I do either.
Box: This whole time I had you figured a fag.
I was giving you the grief so you didn't
try to sneak it in. I had no idea you went for skirts.
And there's one in your place right now, huh?
Ian: Yes, a girl, in my place, with tits.
Box: So this is why.
Okay, I'll be back tomorrow.
You give me that rent then,
minus whatever it takes to get this legger
over the barrel, you know what I mean?
Ian: Thanks, Box.
Box: You know what l mean though?
Ian: I do. I know exactly what you mean.
Box: I mean sex!
Ian: Thanks, Box.
Leah: I was wondering if you left.
Ian: I haven't left in more than a year.
Leah: Geez, and when did you
start door stalking me?
Ian: A few days age, I think?
Things got really weird when
I tried to kill myself.
Leah: Go on, Ian.
Ian: I tried to gas myself there,
in the bathtub, but I have a vent.
Leah: Were you cleaning?
Ian: No, I mean I actually tried to kill myself.
Like with everything in my life, I failed.
Everything until now.
Now with you in my bathroom.
Leah: Listen to me, I'm here because I want to be.
I want to know you. Learn about you.
Ian: There's not much to learn Leah.
I'm a loser.
I'm a slot car without a track.
I lost my plans, my ambitions, my direction.
Leah: Stand up.
Dc you know anything about bees?
Ian: Not a single thing.
I mean yeah of course, I know about bees,
Leah: You have a queen bee and a drone bee,
and a billion million worker bees.
Ian: I think I knew that, yeah.
Leah: The drone bee is an outcast.
The worker bees will try to kill him
if he gets too close to the hive.
Ian: Suck!
Leah: Total suck!
That is of course, unless there's a new queen.
A queen that has to mate.
Ian: Go on.
Leah: The queen beef lies out of her hive,
the one time that she ever leaves the comfort
of her daily routine, like ever, and flies
to the drone who's been waiting for her.
Unsure at first, they fly around one another
showing off, until they get too close.
Ian: What happens then?
Leah: They become irresistibly attracted
to one another, they go wild with passion.
To show their love for one another, they dance.
Ian: Dance?
Leah: Yeah, they dance.
Ian: I think I want to try.
I've never really danced before.
Leah: That's just it, neither the queen
or the drone have ever danced before.
Love makes them do it, love.
The Mold: Right, that's just about enough of that.
That's right sweet-tits.
Leah: lan? What the fuck?
The Mold:Think you could have found something bigger?
(Leah screams)
(Ian screams)
(The Mold laughs)
Ian: Fuckerl!
(ominous music)
Panic is a weird state.
Not like Wyoming is a weird state either.
Panic will grab you. Won't let you go.
Panic will make you do things
that you might not ever do on your own.
More than love, or anger, or excitement.
Panic will drive you like a truck
And god help whatever's in your way.
Panic connects us to the animals.
Panic is common, if I go to the zoo,
everyone will jump. Even the tigers. It's built in.
It protects us.
It protects us from those things
that would otherwise play our more
susceptible emotions against us.
Right now.
Right now.
I'm panicking.
That was my almost girlfriend.
She kissed me.
The Mold:That was a two-rag skag
with no real interest in you, Jack.
She should have lit up your tilt sign
the minute she stepped into this joint.
She wasn't earthbound, Jacko,
she wasn't circle worthy,
what could she have given you
that The Mold couldnt?
Tell me that!
Ian: You were helping me though.
You cleaned me up.
You taught me to be me again.
To try at least.
The Mold:The Mold was helping you
dig a manhole, drop some pipe.
The mold wanted your whistle wet for what comes next.
It got too deep too quick though.
She gut into you.
Ian: I was into her.
The Mold:Jack, dame: bring you down.
A woman is what bends a man's knees.
And a man with bent knees
can't stand on his own.
Ian: What comes next?
The Mold: Ah, commitment.
Ian: Commitment to what?
The Mold:The Mold.
Ian: I think that you think that
that is supposed to mean something to me.
The Mold:The Mold doesn't care
if it does or it doesn't, Jack
Only that you do what The Mold says.
Ian: I think I'm done with that.
The Mold: Really, The Mold thinks otherwise.
Ian: I am not going to eat that.
The Mold: Let's you and The Mold say
that you're in a room with 26 doors in it,
and each one of these doors has,
Ian: Shut up.
The Mold:You do that again, and
Ian: And what?
The Mold:The Mold has warned you about interrupting!
If you have the jets, you'll shoot
low from here on out, Jack
Ian: I'm not okay.
The Mold: Why not?
You're all done up, your nest is settled.
You're chrome plated. You've got the stuff
to get heavy when it comes to it.
And even to take someone apart
when it comes to that.
The Mold thinks you're getting closer
to sevens, Jack. The Mold thinks
you're going to make a great man!
Ian: Ian thinks you're full of shit.
Ian thinks you need to be dealt with.
(screaming)
The Mold: As do all things, Jacko.
So too shall you return to the earth
a sullen and broken mess.
Food for those things at your back while you lived.
Those things ignored.
Your flesh shall cry cacophony
and that life which was once neglected,
shall hear this song and shall teem
upon you until there is nothing of you left,
but the filth and detritus that describe your life!
(whimpering)
And what is left, that nest of filth collected,
shall cw for escape and shall scream
with a mouth of horned teeth and flaming tongue.
It shall beg the decades for release
and spew forth lies and deceit
as frequently as it does the spore that spread it.
And so onto the earth did man plant himself,
saying this is the place of my sons and my sons' sons
and the earth did laugh at this, for man's
very first vital breath was his infection.
(scream s)
Sleep the sleep of stone.
Dream the dreams of man.
When you wake, when you wake,
I will be here, Ian.
Good morning, sunshine!
Welcome back to the land of the living!
You okay, buckaroo?
You still in orbit?
You listening to me,Jack?
Ian: My name's Ian.
Nature channel voice: when the drone
is pressured to leave, if he does not leave,
he will never mate. If he never mates,
he will die.
J Dogg:You feel me?
All that stress and shit?
You just gotta let it go.
That's what this shit is all about.
It's real shit, it's called death yoga.
It's gonna rock your world.
Alright, breathe in, come on
deep breath that shit. Hold it.
Hold on to it, baby.
Because once you let it go, you're gone.
You ready, breathe in.
Let it out.
(door knocking)
Box: Mr. Folliver, wake up!
Get some pants on!
You owe me rent!
(door knocking)
Ian Folliver, open up!
You owe me an ass load of rent, buddy.
I don't even know if you're alive so I can change that.
J Dogg:We're gonna do two more breaths here.
In through the nose,
Box: Folliver, open up or I'm going to exercise
my right to fist fuck your face!
Alright Folliver, I'm coming in.
You better have your dick situated.
Hey man, rent!
Folliver!
(shooting noises)
[so ream)
Jace: He's a fucking door nail.
He made for his gun and you made him dead.
It's what we do man.
Stricker: The body count, it's just too high.
Jace: It's what we do!
We have to man up and get over this.
Stand up. Leave together.
Everything goes back to normal.
Think about it, you've got a hot body.
You've got a great head of hair.
You know what I have?
That's a phone number from a hot blonde,
who's twins with another hot blonde
that looks just like her.
Stricker: Let's rid e.
Kathy B.: And that's it, when, walk it off.
Yes, that's right. Now pop out the tape
and take a breather. You've done enough.
Don't even rewind it this time.
Just leave it out, I think you're done
with this workout. Now go out and get
Zygor: My work here is done,
thanks for being there when I needed you.
The stars, they call me.
Starr: Today, the precinct, tomorrow, the galaxy!
(laughing)
(explosion)
Ian: His name was Kent, he was my
(alarm blaring)
Ian: I'm Ian.
Leah: Hello Ian, I'm Leah.
Ian: I've kind of been watching you.
Leah: I kind of think l knew that, Jack