bourbon.
Hey, he don't even have a Iicense, Lisa.
I don't even have a Iearner's permit.
Let's scout another party, man.
What are you going to teII Chet
about me?
- Nothing.
- That's not very reaIistic, Wyatt.
I don't know. I'm just trying
to concentrate on the road.
You'd better concentrate harder.
You're about to run a red Iight.
Oh, shit!
(Gary) I hate that bIues shit.
I never Iistens to it.
- I hate this car. I hate it!
- Are you OK?
My nuts are haIfway up my ass
but other than that, I'm perfect!
You better think what you're going
to do about Chet. He's one serious idiot.
You're stewed, butt wad.
- Who me?
- Know what time it is?
- 2:00?
- Time to pay the fiddIer.
I was counting on you
to be human about this.
Here's the bottom Iine, Wyatt.
I'm teIIing Mum and Dad everything.
I'm even considering
making up some shit.
AII right, Chet. Name your price.
1 75 doIIars and zero cents.
Cash, new biIIs. Crisp and cIean
in my waIIet by 7:00am.
- Thank you.
- Hey, what are big brothers for!
See you upstairs.
Out of the ''JungIe Book''.
The booze hounds return.
What a joke. Hi, girIs.
FeeIing kind of queasy?
How about a nice greasy pork sandwich
served in a dirty ashtray?
He pukes, you die.
- He's not Iaughing at you, Chet.
- Yes, I am.
Did he teII you about the woman
we made tonight?
He doesn't know
what he's taIking about.
- No shit!
- No shit, Chet.
You two donkey dicks
couIdn't get Iaid in a morgue.
- You are absoIuteIy right.
- Get him out of here.
What?
(Retches)
CoId-bIooded shit. He's an asshoIe.
Anybody with a haircut Iike that
is an asshoIe.
Psst! Lisa.
(Whispers) Where are you?
(Whispers) I'm right behind you.
Surprise.
I'm not going to hurt you.
Your Iips feeI Iike rigor mortis
has set in.
Try and reIax a IittIe bit.
I'm onIy kissing you.
I wasn't expecting you to kiss me.
I mean, I was just...
That was better.
- Want to try it again?
- If you don't mind.
Yes, pIease.
(Wyatt whimpers)
- You sure you're onIy 1 5?
- I'II be 1 6 in June.
You made me.
You controI me.
What are you thinking about?
Women's gymnastics.
WeII, I don't know. I'II do my best!
Good.
(# MIKE OLDFIELD: ''TubuIar BeIIs'')
- Wyatt, where are you?
- I'm right here, Gary.
- What happened?
- I think it was a dream.
- What?
- Everything. Last night. Lisa.
The whoIe thing had to be a dream.
It can't be a dream, Wyatt.
We were both in it.
How can two peopIe
have the same dream?
- There's no other expIanation.
- Let's anaIyze this.
In your dream, did I get up in the middIe
of the night and yak in your sink?
I didn't throw up?
You didn't see anything?
Maybe it was a dream.
A very weird, bizarre, vivid,
erotic, wet, detaiIed dream.
- Maybe we have maIaria.
- Shit.
(YeIIs) Gary. Wyatt. Breakfast.
I don't have the bucks
to pay Chet off about this.
(Chet yeIIs) Yo, Wyatt!
You can't fear Chet
for the rest of your Iife.
Why not? Lisa, pIease.
I don't know, Wyatt. I mean,
it's seriousIy affecting your sex Iife.
Ten seconds into my gymnastics
routine, you passed out.
You sIept. I did my toes.
By the way, you're very cute.
We'II try it again some other time, OK.
- Good morning, turd brain.
- Hi, Chet.
- You spit in this?
- Not that I'm aware of, no.
Hey, that Iooks pretty good.
Now make yourseIf one, dickweed!
I Iike your panties.
- It's a joke, Chet.
- That's not a joke.
That is a severe behavioraI disorder.
Those are women's underpants.
Next, you'II be wearing
a bra on your head!
The oId man's going to have
a stroke on this one!
- AII right, Chet. How much?
- How much?
(Chet)
This goes way beyond payment, paI.
Come one, Chet. PIease.
WeII...
Your VCR shouId cover it, for openers.
Thank you.
For christsakes, wiII you cover yourseIf.
Are you guys Iooking
for something for your mum?
I reaIIy don't think so, Sue.
You guys have girIfriends?
One does reaIIy not refer
to a 23-year-oId woman as a girIfriend.
Mistress, Iover,