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I always worry that maybe people aren't
gonna like me when I go to a party.
Isn't that crazy?
Do you ever get kind of a sick feeling in
your stomach when you dread things?
I wouldn't wanna miss a party,
but every time I go to one...
...I keep feeling like
the whole world's against me.
See, I've spent my whole life
in military academies.
My mother doesn't have a place for me
where she lives...
...and she doesn't know
what else to do with me.
You mustn't misunderstand about
my mother. She's really a lovely person.
I guess every boy thinks his mother
is beautiful, but my mother really is.
She tells me in every letter how sorry
she is that we're not together more...
...but she has to think of her work.
One time we were together, though.
She met me in San Francisco once...
...and we were together for two whole
days, just like we were sweethearts.
It was the most wonderful time
I ever had.
Then I had to go back
to the military academy.
Every time I walk into that barracks,
I get a kind of... .
A kind of a... .
I'm sorry.
Kind of a depressed feeling.
It's got hard, stone walls.
You know what I mean?
I guess I've bored you enough,
telling you about myself.
Thank you.
Sorry about that. I goofed up the last
couple of lines. I guess I'm nervous.
That's okay. You did very well.
I'm sorry.
Thank you. You play very well.
Now Mrs. Tossoff's gonna play notes
for you. Sing them back to us. Like so:
-It's too low for me.
-You're a tenor? You want to start here?
Louder, please.
I'm so nervous.
-I'm not singing.
-But you have to.
-But I came to dance.
-You have to sing too.
-And act, and play an instrument.
-All three?
-It says "performing arts," doesn't it?
-You don't have to do everything.
-Sure as shit helps, baby.
-Thank you. Next group, please. Hurry.
-Oh, I like your nose ring.
-I'm into culture.
-Does that hurt, or is that ethnic?
-Music, please, Mrs. Snell.
Please pay attention.
We have a lot to do today.
-I hate my legs.
-Yeah. Me too.
-I've tried every diet in the whole world.
-Really? Me too.
But you can't help your glands.
I'm sorry! I'm just so nervous.
Relax! Come on, use your body.
-Careful. That's 7000 worth of machine.
-Dollars or pounds?
Don't touch the rotary pods.
I got it set on saw-tooth.
Why can't he play piccolo? Something
sensible. Or the accordion, like Papa did.
Same reason you drive a checker and
not a Roman chariot. It's progress.
My son's head is into the future.
And Papa could never play the accordion.
-Do you think you're talented?
-You swine! You coward! You cad!
You dare judge me in my misfortitude?
You dare to ask me the question
who is the father of my child?
-You! You! I point to you, Nigel!
-Next, please.
The next group of musicians can
go to the fifth floor now, please.
-Name?
-Excuse me, miss.
You don't need his name. He's not here
for the audition. He's my partner.
-What school's he from?
-He ain't into school.
He's just helping me out with my
dancing. But it's me who's auditioning.
Mulholland, Shirley. I'm all fixed up.
I filled in all your papers and all.
He doesn't go upstairs
without filling in his name.
Leroy's his name, but I'm auditioning.
Shirley Mulholland. That's two L's.
-And don't ask him to do no writing.
-Doesn't he talk, even?
He ain't into conversation
until you get to know him.
-Leroy what?
-Leroy Johnson. Can we go up now?
He's not going up
until he checks his knife.
We ain't staying long enough for
no trouble. He's just helping a friend.
He's not helping out anyone
unless he checks his knife.
This is the High School for Performing
Arts. We don't cut each other up here.
-You want it?
-I want it.
-You sure you want it?
-Yeah, I'm sure.
-Promise you won't steal it, now?
-I promise.
-Thanks, ma'am.
-Name?
Don't worry, baby. I got lots of knives.
-What are you going to do for us?
-I was gonna sing.
-You don't have to sing, honey.
-We know our rights.
-You can't
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