The only truth is love beyond reason.
We wrote about 20, 25 texts a day.
I'd go, "C'mon, let's hitchhike to Miami Beach."
He'll answer, "Now!"
In 2 seconds, he's there.
But of course,
I fell for that fucking arrogant prick Jean-Marc
who takes forever to answer my emails.
I'm such a dumbass.
Sometimes,
when I'm at my computer...
I panic,
I get all worked up.
And I think that
if somebody died evey time I hit refresh,
there'd be nobody left alive, fuck.
When you go into a bar, go for groceries,
walk down the street, eat out...
Whose ass do you check out?
When you're on the prowl, is it tits or cocks?
Tits, cocks? Cocks, tits?
It was the cat.
Marilyn. The cat was gone.
I knew it right away because I didn't hear the tingaling.
He put this collar on her...
You know, for midgets... for Santa's elves. A tiny bell.
He put a bell on, thought it was cute.
You always hear it.
But I when came home, she wasn't there.
I went, Marilyn?
Marilyn... No bell... Gone...
And the vase...
serving as a storage compartment, that was filled with
pennies and shit, on the sideboard.
Gone.
So I turn around and next to the door...
Just my boots.
No running shoes. No guy's shoes at all.
So naturally I tear through the place at like 250 mph.
He'd taken eveything.
All... all... all his shit.
On the kitchen table there was a sheet of blue paper
written in German, because he's a German...
However, it still is...
"I don't want to waste my life loving you wrongly."
You can't be a 50-50.
Straight is straight, gay is gay.
And don't bring up your "mood" crap.
Nothing to do with the Humidex,
Or with the moon in Aquarius.
Gimme a fucking break!
I know everything.
Everything.
I know where he works,
the restaurants he eats in.
The other day, I walked by his building
and ran into the janitor.
So I asked him, dunno the fuck why,
if he was at home.
The janitor starts talking about him.
I listen.
And I start talking about him,
as if I knew him since kindergarten.
Then I realized I'm fucked.
So I tell him to say Cindy Rosenberg says hello.
Not wanting to look like a stalker.
If he had any idea that
I am so well-informed...
His dad had a stroke in 2002
and his mom owns a flower stall
at Galeries Montarville...
If he knew that,
he'd probably enter the witness protection program
for those who exposes the Mafia.
Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction.
That's me.
Who is that handsome hunk?
The blond?
Nicolas.
Country lad, friend of Sophie's.
Just moved into town.
HEARTBEATS
- Hello. - Marie?
Guess who we're meeting on Saturday?
It's called Seismography.
You bore cables and sensors into the ground,
and you can make charts,
Based on the vibrations,
you can see what's underground.
Oil companies pay 200 million for 'em.
We're crazy.
We work 92 hours a week and with overtime
you take home 1300 a week, plus a fat tax refund.
Because I'm studying literature at McGill,
I only do this for the money
and to forget all the shit.
At night I read to exercise my brain.
Bernard-Marie Koltès keeps you in shape.
- Well? - Well, what?
What do you think of Nicolas?
He's nice.
Yeah, he's nice.
He's intelligent.
Personally, he's not my type.
Me neither.
This Thursday night, shall we go to a rowdy bar with flashy lights
and order beer and lemonade?
- Hello? - Hi, how are you?
I'm good, you?
Good.
Guess what?
I dunno.
Nico sent me a card.
You got one too?
Yeah, I got it this morning.
So, see you Thursday, then?
It'll be fun.
You do not like cherries, Francis?
Cherries are too sweet.
The fudge is 17 times sweeter than cherries.
Ever played hide-and-seek?
Yeah.
Wanna play?
Like, on the mountains?
Sure, but,
do you need to change?
Are you gonna wear that dress,
or you are just...
Sporty.
One bottle of wine.
Two bottles of wine, three bottles of wine... Four bottles of wine, five bottles of wine...
Rabbit!
You must've sucked at this game as a kid.
There was...
I saw a white rabbit.
A pet rabbit that probably escaped.
Marie!
Nic knows the stage designer of a play. He invited me to the play.
Cool.
Ok.
You have a big bed, right?
Yeah, I have a double bed.
You want to sleep here? You can...
We'll just squeeze in.
Thanks, man.
I do not like to sleep in the middle.
I hate the middle too!
No sweat, I like the middle.
Good.
Sleeping tight, Marie?
Not eating, Marie?
I'm not hungy.
Hey. An interview with the actors in the play to which I have invited you.
Francis, do want me to try to get you a ticket too?
- It's on Thursday? - Yeah.
No... I'm busy on Thursday.
Too bad.
The play's surrealistic, and it's based on an Audrey Hepburn movie.
The woman of my life.
Thanks. One sugar.
Here you go. That's 2.25 please.
Thanks. Keep the change.
Bye.
Hey!
- Hey, how's it going? - Fine, you?
Yeah. What are you doing here?
- I live on Jeanne-Mance. - Really?
What's up?
I was having a coffee with a friend. She just left.
Funny, because I just...
Damn... My coffee!
Wait I'll show you. Shit, I spilled it all over.
Did I get you? Here you go...
Lucky! Where'd you find it?
This is for you.
I bought it for you.
Really, Francis...
You're so sweet!
- My pleasure. - Thank you!
You said you liked her so I thought...
I gotta run. I'm cooking with my friend.
No worries.
A girIfriend?
Pasta with pine nuts.
There you go.
Thanks a lot. I can't wait to...
to put it up.
I'm making a move.
- I'll call you. - Ok.
- See you! - Bye.
Don't forget your bags!
Your pasta will go wrong without these bags.
- Bye! - Call me!
- Yeah! - Ok!
Is it bad?
No, no, no...
It was very...
engrossing.
You got amazing eyes.
Hazel?
This iris colour is the most common.
You must have a high IQ because of the brown eyes.
Do you ever think of movie stars when you kiss?
No, I don't think of anything.
And you, do you think of the celebrities?
Yeah.
But with you, I have no need to.
Are you in love right now?
Douleurs, migraines et sonates.
Pretty so-so, huh?
The dialogue did not make any sense.
Too literary.
I heard the author on the radio.
She said that this play is the least understood.
These pseudo-neurotics...
who dreamed of pain as an escape from an agonizing life...
Fuck them!
They just need to get laid.
The author wrote another one.
"Wild Blueberries and Sodomy". My heart was scarred by it.
The characters were so Manichean.
Manichean?
Manichean.
You know, good vesus evil.
The black against the white.
Yeah, I know what it means.
I just found it charming that you used the word Manichean.
Seems out of character?
No, not at all. On the contrary.
There's a small...
Vietnamese restaurant near where I live.
It might be...
pleasant.
Yeah, good idea.
Marie, it's Francis!
Francis!
- What's up? - We just saw the play.
Shit, I forgot! It was tonight.
Antony, this is Nico. Nico, Antony...
Er... Jody, this is Nicolas. Nicolas, this is Jody.
And Clara... Clara, Nicolas.
Hi.
Not too much turbulence on the flight Paradis-Montréal?
How was the play?
Disappointing.
That's all? What a pity.
- It wasn't good? - It was awful.
But those actors were good.
Well, they were awful here.
Anyway, it's funny you came here to eat here.
It's measurable.
The Kinsey scale has 7 categories, Ok? 7 degrees.
Zero is exclusively heterosexual.
One is predominantly heterosexual, only incidentally homosexual.
Two is predominantly heterosexual, but more than incidentally homosexual.
- Like Jean. - Go fuck youself!
Three is bisexual with no preference.
Four is predominantly homosexual, but more than incidentally heterosexual.
Five, predominantly homosexual, only incidentally heterosexual.
And six is exclusively homosexual.
So which group do you belong to?
The Golden Coconut Club.
No, the Golden Coconut Dépot.
Yeah. We shared a little Californian wine.
We shared a...
fried banana.
Then...
we went dutch, because...
I... Well...
I wanted it to be clear.
Then I gave her a lift to the subway.
It must've been around 11:15?
After that, I went for a beer with friends.
Oh, and my ex was there.
The day he moved in,
it was over. It was over!
No, I mean, it wasn't over, over.
I mean, we still lived together and had sex and all, but...
But those are meaningless details.
It was over.
Of course. At first...
we didn't want to admit it
Because we felt bad, you know.
The relocation, all the transportation...
All that... all that stuff.
That's a shitload of money out of the window.
That gentleman has Euros, but he...
He can go fuck himself.
I'm like we were...
"We"... I mean, I'll speak for myself.
Me...
For me...
I was infatuated with the kind of love we had.
He lived in BerIin,
Me, on Dorion St, so...
I guess I was in love with,
you know, taking the plane...
I dunno, flying and landing, the cafes, pubs...
the cigarettes...
The wind,
his accent...
That is not real.
That was our idea of love.
We love the idea of love more than each other.
We love the distance.
But when there's no more distance...
When...
when there's no more oceans to cross
and all there's left to cross is a hallway...
Anyway,
...it's over.
I received the letter two days after
our last date.
"My dear Julien,
I can't stop thinking about our relationship.
Your humor and gallanty seduced me.
Yesterday I went shopping with the girls.
I think I found your perfume.
ls it by chance the
Insurrection de Colin Arpel?"
No, it's not.
"That time, it was love at first sight.
When you kissed me on the cheek at the Henri-Bourrassa,
and brushing against my cheek.
I shut my eyes
and I believed it was Champs-Élysées.
C H A N S
É L I S É S."
He calls me "Miss".
I was.
It looks like a match between Musset and George Sand.
It drags. I hate it.
Now he's ruining all my favorite places because...
when he's not there,
having a beer with friends...
When he's not there,
I'm bored.
It's not fun.
Yet, the weather's nice, the birds are singing and the wine's good...
I am quiet.
It's not fun.
But when he's there, watch out!
As if I am on speed, I say "Hi" to everyone.
I act like I'm a country bumpkin.
Saint-Donat.
Worst thing is, I hardly talk to him.
But I know that he sees me.
We see people even without looking at them.
Like, if you're looking here.
And I'm looking there.
I see you.
I'm not looking at you, but I see you.
I know...
where you're looking. I know...
you're looking at me.
Fuck.
Right.
You smell good.
Thanks.
Oh, God...
"Tick-tock goes your biological clock, but where is Mister Right?
Modern fashionistas,
what kind of man makes you drool?
"1) Describe the looks of the ideal man of your dreams."
Must I answer?
Yeah.
Well... The hair and the brown eyes.
Sure. Brown hair.
The hair, approximately so long.
Short.
No, short... CurIy.
Below the ears. Almost shoulder-length.
Curly, blond.
And green eyes, perhaps.
This is so beautiful.
"When in love, I would only ask for a glance,
so whatever is basically unsatisfactory will always be missed.
That is you will never look at me
in the way which I am looking at you."
Right. I'm going to smoke. I'll wait outside.
My friend!
Ah, my friend!
Where do we put the gifts?
Shit, I am so wasted.
l've never been this drunk in my life!
- What? - Where do we put the gifts?
Ah yes, yes, yes.
Down the hallway,
in the room to the right of the dining room.
They bought me presents! That's so nice!
Wow.
He's super drunk.
A straw hat.
- I bought him a straw hat. - Yes!
It's beautiful, no?
I just hope that,
he doesn't vomit in it.
No, just joking.
He'll be super happy. It's cool!
And yours?
It's... It's a bit...
It's less original.
And more badly wrapped. It's a sweater.
I want to see! You have such great taste!
Orange!
Tangerine.
It's tangerine.
The blond hair and citrus shade...
will always make a compelling combination.
Oh, I thought...
Maybe, I dunno...
It seems that orange
is a safe pick for all skin types.
But I don't know about the fluorescent orange.
That is perhaps an exception.
He can wear it with my straw hat.
You look beautiful.
Thanks. You too.
Bling bling!
It's precious.
Wicked atmosphere.
"You have beautiful eyes, you know."
Do you know what's inside them?
Yes.
Well, then.
Then what?
So what comes next?
I don't know.
"Wicked atmosphere."
ldiot!
Who is that android?
It's his mother.
Her name is Désirée.
He introduced me to her.
She say I looked like a housewife for 50 years.
She speaks and looks like Captain Spock.
At least, I did not look like a slut.
Yes, but your dress is a little bit anachronistic.
Pardon?
It's vintage. Take note.
But it's beautiful not because it's vintage.
Do you know what we should do next?
No, what?
We shall go to my aunt's cottage for the weekend.
She's in Europe and I know where she hides the keys.
But I have to work.
Just call in sick.
Right.
"Hi, this is Marie, and I am sick."
"Hi, this is Sick, and I am Marie."
Ok, I'll call.
How are we going to get there?
Saddle up a cat?
- Magic carpet? - No, by car.
I'll borrow JP's old truck. He won't mind.
I better go and ask him now.
Who's coming with me?
Someone has to stay. My mom's bringing some cash.
I need to buy cigarettes.
You'll see, Francis.
My mom is nice.
Can you help me with the zip?
Is it good?
Thanks.
- Shall we? - Yeah, let's go.
- Later, Francis. - Later.
- Good morning. - Hallo.
The party was a fuckin' blast.
How long have you known Nico?
- About two months. - Two months?
- Your name is... - Francis.
Francis, right! Francis.
He told me about you.
It's true, you're handsome.
Beautiful apartment, huh? A real palace.
His dad pays for it.
He thinks he's a king.
It's beautiful...
The top that you are wearing.
That? Thank you.
I bought it in New York, like ten years ago.
I'm a dancer.
Don't travel much now, but...
Ask Nico.
When he was a kid, he stayed at the backstage dressing room.
His dad thought it was inappropriate.
Said it was vulgar. "It's vulgar!"
What's a pair of tits to a kid?
Ask Nick.
I wonder if he still remembers.
The girls were crazy about him, giving him kisses.
He loved it. He was cute.
Yeah.
I'm sure he remembers.
But we lost touch.
I mean, Miami Fort Lauderdale...
Different time zones.
His dad took him back.
Father knows best.
Yes, that, yes.
I'm sure he remembers.
The dressing rooms.
I brought him this, his allowance.
Grocery, lottery, candy, rubbish...
Tell him. He is such an airhead.
He'll toss the cheque out, and cheers!
Not home?
I would have liked to give him a kiss. Where the fuck is he?
He'll be back. He's out with...
Marie.
You'll tell him, right?
Give him a kiss for me, huh, twinkie?
He'll be glad, I'm sure.
- Nice meeting you, Francis. - Me, too.
You are a cutie. Heartbreaker, that's you.
- Bye bye. - Bye, have a nice day.
Don't forget to tell him or he'll toss it out.
He's an airhead.
- Bye bye. - Bye, have a nice day.
The countryside is so beautiful.
We tend to forget.
- Golly, gee, damn! - Audrey Hepburn!
Audrey Hepburn. Breakfast at Tiffany's.
Ah yes! That's where it's from!
I love Audrey Hepburn!
Me...
I got to piss. Be right back.
Hey, Marie?
I love you.
I love you too.
Frankie, too. I love that guy.
I mean, he's so sweet!
- A bit shy, but... - Over-sensitive?
Yeah.
- In what way sensitive? - No, nothing.
No, it's just he's...
He's a romantic.
He imagines things about people.
What do you mean?
He imagines things,
about anyone, anything...
If you give him too much affection,
or touch him too much...
Like, for him,
"I love you" is
"I love you."
Me, you can tell me.
I understand this stuff.
But him...
Anyway...
This is good. Lunch is on me.
The river.
Ah yes, it's beautiful, huh?
It's crazy.
Yeah, the countryside is really beautiful.
We will forget eveything here.
When everything is boring and crazy,
one forgets everything.
Who wants the next marshmallow?
Not me, thanks.
Frankie?
Ok.
You don't know how to eat the marshmallow.
Why?
You're eating your marshmallow too fast.
You're not tasting it.
Eating a marshmallow is like a striptease.
Step by step.
- Have another... - No, I'm full.
Man, I'm full, I swear.
Come on.
Now do as I say.
Start by taking away the first coat.
What?
Its coat. Its envelope, its little skin.
The burned, golden layer.
You start with that.
Ok.
That's a good start. Now,
using your palate and incisors, pull off the second part
by applying a slight pressure.
And then you will leave...
you leave a thin core.
And then...
You're too drunk.
Ok, I'm going to bed.
You're angry?
No, just tired.
- Are you ok? - Yeah, yeah.
Guys?
Whatever! Whatever!
Yes, it's me.
Yes, on the cliff.
Yes. No, I'm going to take the bus.
An emergency. I forgot I had an urgent matter in Montréal.
I'll take the bus in an hour.
Don't need to bother about me. I'm fine.
I'll just take the bus.
Bye.
Marie! Marie!
Wait!
Marie, fuck! Marie!
What's your fucking problem?
Hey, guys?
l'm tired of the countryside.
I'm going home.
Who's with me?
We've been waiting outside the hotel for
15, 20, even 25 minutes.
It's so long!
It's raining.
A little drizzle like, you know,
like someone's spitting in your face.
I have balls that freeze. I'm insanely bored.
Julie's reading some poems by...
Jacques Brault.
It's late and we are pissed.
But Julie's gonna shoot herself if we leave.
There's an old doorman here from Colorado.
I've no idea what he's doing there. But he's nice so we chatted.
Finally he shows up.
He is like...
45 minutes late.
He's wearing
his old Navy jacket.
It is beautiful. It is great and...
We're there, so Julie can make her move.
It's now or never. Problem is,
the guy
is with someone else.
Another guy!
Also cute and tall. I glanced at Julie.
Her face looks very pale.
He said,
"Sorry, I'm lost. I'm late."
You don't call, you don't write,
...and don't even talk to her. It's over.
If you know she's somewhere,
you don't go.
It took me about a year.
The lucky ones get over it
after two weeks, two months, two days...
Evey time I saw her I figured
I'd get cramps, get jealous of her new boyfriend.
But no.
I got over it.
The autumn leaves fell
and the snow came.
Then Christmas with my cousins with their dumb girlfriends.
Spring, summer, autumn and...
I got over it.
Just a bad memory.
A memory like any others.
When I think of what I did,
the money I spent to get her to love me...
I think of it all and
I'm so ashamed...
I start...
...to sing.
Singing, fuck!
I sing in the living room, in the shower...
...washing the dishes.
I sing.
I hit "Send."
No time to wait for the bananas to ripen.
I will not spend my whole life on Hotmail.
I mean, it's cute at first,...
It was fun.
You know? The feeling you had,
when your Inbox has new messages.
Still in bold.
You have mail!
The split second after you click...
and it appears.
He replied.
Your joy is then increased tenfold
by the two previous messages...
Such as an email from fucking Amazon
for a lampshade warehouse sales...
I'm in a cafe. I'm waiting for him.
And he's late.
But only a minute, This is not too serious.
So, stage one:
Loving him being late.
To find that it makes him human,
gives him sex appeal.
Stage two:
I look at my calendar. You know,
I doubt myself.
Maybe I got it wrong. I invent excuses.
I picture myself arriving late at another cafe.
So I look where I am and
I'm in the right place.
It's been 32 minutes.
Stage three:
I tell myself I don't mind waiting.
I keep myself busy, I read.
I pretend to read. The same fucking paragraph.
I order drinks, go to the bathroom.
Now I hate him.
I started cursing him.
I think of brilliant quotes to say when he shows up.
It's 39 minutes.
He arrives.
Breathless.
He looks handsome.
Traffic was bad.
Yeah.
So I excuse him. I say,
of course, it is acceptable that he's late.
Because...
Because I'm weak and
someone you like is always right.
Shit.
Rejection is tough but...
...it is only once.
No?
It's like a guillotine.
But...
waiting for him to answer,
spending weeks thinking that I suck,
or that I'm crazy?
It's like getting beheaded in slow motion.
It's like a long "No" that stretches.
But at some point,
we get tired.
We crack.
We crack and
eveything gets dirty.
Eveything's dark...
...and burned.
So I hit "Send".
You're smoking a lot.
Compared to last time.
I smoked as much then.
I love to smoke.
Smoking is like...
...forgetting.
When I'm down, it's all I have.
Light a cigarette, smoke and shut off.
It hides the shit.
The smoke hides...
...the shit.
There's menthol and vanilla.
Some people like them.
Menthol cigarette?
Vanilla cigarette?
Chocolate cigarette?
Cigarette... Cigarette.
Smoking a cigarette prevents me
...from going crazy.
It keeps me alive.
It keeps me alive,
until I die.
Is that...
...alright?
First snowfall!
So,
it's been a while since we met each other in the country.
And I was wondering,
if there was some misunderstanding?
If you were angy or...
You know? About the episode...
...of our epic fight.
That's it. It was just a joke between Marie and me.
We're old friends.
I thought of you,
because they're showing My Fair Lady on TV.
I saw it on the tele-guide.
My Fair Lady's on tonight.
I called because I thought it would be fun to watch.
It will be fun to watch together.
If you feel like it. Here.
Or at your place or...
Anyway, if you're not busy.
So then...
Yes, this is Nicolas's voicemail.
Leave me a message.
$2.25 please.
Thank you.
Thank you, have a nice day. Do you need a bag?
- Nope. - Thank you.
I wait for you in the season that is ours.
I got to talk to you.
No, you know, I'm a guy who...
No, I... I love being with you.
I feel...
Yeah, I like good being with you.
Ok.
Imagine... Imagine that,
we have a friend...
...and he meets a guy.
He meets a nice guy,
funny, charming...
Handsome, of course.
He's intelligent. He's...
...cultured.
He is so open-minded, that you say...
"Wow, he's so open-minded!" He moves you.
He seduces you, he touches you.
He touches you. He's tender and he's fun.
Let's say you meet this handsome guy, How do you react?
I love you.
I really want to kiss you.
I don't know why I'm telling you this.
No, it's just...
It's the end of autumn.
I'll have to start heating up.
And it would be simpler if...
If there was someone.
Because it would be easier.
And yes, I haven't told you about my small lines.
Like...
Shit!
Like Robinson Crusoe. I do this...
You know, when...
...someone tells me, "No, thank you."
"No. I'm not interested."
Whenever that happens, I draw a small line.
When I'm tired,
it's becomes a form of nourishment.
You know what I mean?
So...
And you?
Talk to me?
How could you think I'm gay?
Excuse me for a second.
Nico?
Nico! Nico!
Nico! Nico! Nico! Nico!
Nico!
Hello!
Hi!
- How are you? - Good and you?
It's been so long. I saw you passing.
Excuse me, I was completely...
No, no... It's ok. It doesn't matter.
We're both busy. It's...
I called once, but I didn't leave a message.
It is not very important. I have a friend...
From Matane. She just came back from a trip.
Evelyn. And she...
Yeah, she was reading her mail and...
I sent her a letter.
A letter with an article,
An article by Peter Schlag,
...in the Boston Observer. I'm not sure if you know...
It's a literature review. It was an article about...
...the "Remains of fascism in Modern Literature."
It's great!
It's very long. But what I mean is,
I wanted to send it to you...
The article, I mean...
I wanted to send her the poem by Miron. You got the poem instead?
The poem is for her.
I sent them on the same night. I mixed up the addresses.
So you received the poem by Miron.
I could imagine you reading the poem.
It was pretty heavy but it was not...
...for that purpose.
Your friend,
...is she your girlfriend?
Pardon?
That girl.
Is she your girlfriend? Your ex? Or...
No, no... No, no... No, no... Not at all...
No, no, no, no... It was just her birthday.
And she loves Miron. So I sent it to her...
The poem.
Excuse me, I have to run. I left something on the stove.
So...
- Bye, bye... - Bye, bye, bye...
Nico? Nico? Nicolas!
Erm... Erm...
What would you say if,
...if I had meant to send the poem to you?
I...
...still have something on the stove.
Excuse.
Fuck!
I knew it was him.
I'll never love anyone else that much.
It does not matter.
It's usually...
...later in life that you meet your soul mate.
Me, too bad. It happened now,
At 25 years of age.
It's not about sex. I don't even care about sex.
That's not the main thing.
The important thing is...
...waking up with someone.
To sleep in the spoon.
That's what matters, the spoon.
Knowing that if something bad happens,
...someone's there.
That's a metaphor. It never happens.
You wake up with the wind,
you feel the warm belly, and the breath...
...of the person you love.
That's it,
...the spoon.
Yes.
I must seem...
Ever met someone so depressed?
My God! I've been a hairdresser for 20 years!
I crimped empty spoons!
Hello, Francis Riverekim...
I went shopping at Bagatelles yesterday,
and I bought mismatched cups to serve tea.
I don't know if you're free,
but you're invited for afternoon tea.
Ok, call me back.
Oh, I quitted smoking. Call me back. Bye.
I'm out of madeleines.
Such a shame!
It's beautiful, your beard.
Thanks.
You've joined the club of bears?
No.
Here's that armchair, that I wanted to show you.
The armchair that I mentioned.
Yeah, right.
Have you seen Nico lately?
Er... Yes?
I saw him in a bar.
Did you go together?
No, no... I was having a drink.
He came in with his friends. I just said hi.
He's going to Asia.
- Is he? - Eight months.
It's long.
- Have you seen him? - No.
More tea?
Sure, good idea.
One year later...
Who is this ugly Rockabilly that looks like a ghoul in Krakow?
Yuck!
I'm really glad...
Subtitles By ArchaicFurore