You promised you wouldn't bring up the helicopter!
Dude, you're not the boss of me, okay?
Technically, Charlie, I am the boss of you, because I own half your shares!
You sold me half your shares of the bar for "goods and services"!
Wait, you've definitely given me half your shares too, dude!
Maybe I gave you guys a couple of shares when my back was against the wall and I needed a little breathing room--
Bro, you gave me a shitload of shares one time for half a sandwich!
What're you guys doing? Is this a hose job, where you're hosing me down?
Dude, you hosed yourself down!
You hosed yourself up and down, Charlie!
C'mon, what do you guys want me to do?
Just get a job? Why don't I strap on my job helmet, and squeeze down into a job cannon, AND FIRE OFF INTO JOBLAND, WHERE JOBS GROW ON JOBBIES?!!!
I see what you're saying. I could go for some wood.
Uh, no, we're saying 'wooed'.
Yeah, cool. We'll get some wood, we'll build something cool, then we'll go get the money.
That doesn't have anything to do with what we're talking about, Charlie. We're talking about being wooed by this corporate guy...
How are you going to be wood?
Some gay guys are twinks, and others are bears. This gay guy's a bear. By the way we're totally cool with that. To each his own.
Wait, I'm a little confused here. What's a twink?
A twink is small and slender, like Mac.
Oh no, I'm too muscular, I would be a bear.
Ohh don't think so bro. Not hairy enough.
Smooth. I would be a bear.
No no, see I don't think you'd be a bear either. As a matter of fact, I don't know what you would be, because you're definitely not a twink.
I'd be a top, that's for sure.
Can a twink be a top, or is that reserved for bears?
I'm sure there's a great deal of switching back and forth, but I think more often than not bears are tops, unless they happen to be power-bottoms.
A power-bottom is a bottom that is capable of receiving an enormous amount of power.
Actually Mac, you got it backwards. See, a power-bottom's actually generating all the power by doing most of the work.
Does the power have to do with the size or the strength of the bottom?
Now Dennis, I've heard that speed has something to do with it.
Speed has everything to do with it. You see, the speed of the bottom informs the top how much pressure he's supposed to apply. Speed's the name of the game. Right, buddy?
(notices that Corporate Guy has left)
WWaitress
[Flirtatiously] Hehe, hi.
Ha, so listen, first let me apologize for never calling you back, ever. Second, I was applying here and maybe you could, you know, help me out.
WWaitress
Ooh, hehe...well, um, why don't I just go get you an app...
...App...lication and uniform?
Ha ha, that's weird that we said that at the same time.
WWaitress
Hehe, I know! Well I'll be back and, yeah.
WWaitress
Hehe, um, yeah. Hehe, yeah, bye.
Ha ha, bye.[Waitress walks out] What's her name again?
(Cut to the front of the bookstore. Frank and his gang buddies are playing jacks while Mac looks on in bewilderment and disgust.)
Mac (sarcastic): This is very intimidating, Frank.
Don't worry, we're sending out an strong message, Mac, don't you worry. (A man and his kids walk by.)
MMan
Hey, look, kids, it's a 50's doo-wop group.
Mac (does a double take): What?! No, we're not a 50's doo-wop group!
MMan
Hey, listen, would you sing us a song?
Mac (annoyed): We don't sing, guy!
Oh, yeah, we do. We'll sing, we'll sing for you. Right, boys?
Mac (dumbfounded): You guys sing?!
Of course, we sing! We're a gang!
No, no, no, no, gangsters don't sing!
What're you talking about? You ever hear of gangster rap?
we're not gonna intimidate anybody if we're entertaining the whole goddamn neighborhood!
Listen to this: (They break out into song.)
Coast on, Yellow Jacket Boys,
Buzz-Buzz-Bumble,
They don't pay for sodapop,
'Cause they really rumble
(Cut to the restaurant.)
Guess what? I just topped myself for most phone numbers in one day--nine.
Dee (high-fiving him): Nine? Come on. Six strawberry margaritas, please. (Charlie and the Waitress come up. Charlie is clearly gloating about something.)
Uh, don't make 'em, 'cause you won't have your jobs much longer. Corporate's on their way down here right now to fire your asses!
Dennis (hurt): Babe, don't do that to me! I feel like we were getting so close, sweet baby--
He doesn't even know your name!
WWaitress
What's my name, what is it? (There is a pause while Dennis tries to figure out a way to bullshit his way out of this one.)
Beautiful. (It didn't work.)
Waitress (disgusted): Oh, my God! You're a dick!
That's what I call you all the time. Would you not want to be called "beautiful"? (Corporate Guy enters.)
CGCorporate Guy
Are one of you guys the one that called me? (Charlie turns to face him.)
Charlie (raising his hand): Uh, right here. These two (points to Dennis and Dee) are the ones who were stealing.
CGCorporate Guy
Hey, I know you...(points at Dennis)...and you. You're the ones who run that dive bar down the street!
Yeah, and you're the corporate dude with the helicopter.
CGCorporate Guy
Right. Here's the thing--I had a really strange night last night. Your friends and their doo-wop group, they showed up at my house and tried to attack me. One of them died on my doorstep, and it sorta put me in a funk. So I'm gonna clean house, and you're all fired. (The Gang is taken aback, but the Waitress is incredibly smug.)
Waitress (gloating): You guys are all fired. I'm not fired. I'm not fired, right?
CGCorporate Guy
Did you hire these people? (Various affirmations from the Gang.)
CGCorporate Guy
Well, then, clearly you're an idiot, because these people are psychopaths. (sarcastic) But no, you're not fired. (beat) I'm just kidding, you are. Get the hell out of my restaurant. (He walks out.)
Waitress (turning on Charlie): Goddammit, Charlie! Really?! Now how am I gonna pay for my rent next month, huh?
Don't worry about it, you can come and live with me, all right? (He reaches out to her, but she rejects him.)
WWaitress
GO TO HELL!!! (She storms off.)
(Cut to the front of the bookstore. Frank and his gang buddies are playing jacks while Mac looks on in bewilderment and disgust.)
Mac (sarcastic): This is very intimidating, Frank.
Don't worry, we're sending out an strong message, Mac, don't you worry. (A man and his kids walk by.)
MMan
Hey, look, kids, it's a 50's doo-wop group.
Mac (does a double take): What?! No, we're not a 50's doo-wop group!
MMan
Hey, listen, would you sing us a song?
Mac (annoyed): We don't sing, guy!
Oh, yeah, we do. We'll sing, we'll sing for you. Right, boys?
Mac (dumbfounded): You guys sing?!
Of course, we sing! We're a gang!
No, no, no, no, gangsters don't sing!
What're you talking about? You ever hear of gangster rap?
we're not gonna intimidate anybody if we're entertaining the whole goddamn neighborhood!
Listen to this: (Frank blows a pitch pipe, and they break out into song.)
Bum-bum-bum....
Those darn Yellow Jacket Boys,
Buzz-Buzz-Bumble,
They don't pay for soda pop,
Cause they really rumble
Oooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, Oooh, ooo-ooo...
(As they sing (with Frank adding buzzing noises and "stings" in the background), it slowly dawns on Mac that he's hitched his cart to the wrong star...again. One of the children puts money in the still-full cup of coffee he was drinking out of. He's had it.)
Goddammit! (He walks away.) Goddammit!
