Mod f-x-square, d-x.
So please finish Percival|for next time.
I know many of you|had this as undergraduates,|but it won't hurt to brush up.
Thank you, Steven.
I also put an advanced Fourier system|on the main hallway chalkboard.
I'm hoping that one of you might|prove it by the end of the semester.
Now the person to do so will|not only be in my good graces...
but also go on|to fame and fortune...
by having their accomplishment|recorded and their name printed...
in the auspicious M.I.T. Tech.
Former winners include Nobel laureates,|Field's medal winners...
renowned astrophysicists|and lowly M.I.T. professors.
Well, that's all.|If you have any questions...
I'm sure that Tom|has the answers.
Hi, Will.
- Kirsten, how you doing?|- I'm all right. How are you?
- Good.|- I didn't get on Cathy last night.
- No?|- No.
- Why not?|- I don't know.
- Cathy!|- What?
Why didn't you give me none of that|nasty little hoochie-woochie...
- you usually throw at me?|- Oh, fuck you...
and your Irish curse,|Chuckie.
Like I'd waste my energy spreadin'|my legs for that Tootsie Roll dick?
- Go home and give it a tug yourself.|- Tootsie Roll!
T-Toots!
She's missin' a tooth,|Will.
She's got skin problems.|I don't--
Plus, it's like 5-to-2 Morgan ends up|marryin' her, you know what I mean?
There's only so many times you can|bang your friend's future wife.
It's wrong.|Where you goin'?
- I'm gonna take off.|- Fuck you, you're takin' off.|It's, like, what, 10:00?
No, I'm tired.
Irish curse?
She don't know.|There ain't no Irish curse.
Out! Stop|pressuring me back.
Stop crowding the plate!|Which one will it be?
You're gonna get charged,|you know that?
You think I'm afraid of you,|you big fuck? You're crowdin'|the fuckin' plate.
Hey, uh, Casey's bouncin' up|a bar at Harvard next week.|We should go up there.
- What are we gonna do up there?|- I don't know.
We'll fuck up some smart kids.|Probably fit right in.
Ow! Fuckin' punk.
- Oh, what's up? You still tough?|- Come on!
Come on. Come on.|That's it.
# I'd hold you forever|here #
# In my arms #
- Professor Lambeau?|- Yes?
I'm in your applied theories|class. We're all up at|the math and science building.
Come here. It's Saturday.
- Unless you wanna have|a drink with me tonight.|- Maybe.
We just couldn't wait|until Monday to find out.
- Find out what?|- Who proved the theorem.
This is correct.|Who did this?
- Jack?|- It wasn't me.
- Nemesh?|- N-No way.
- Come on, Joey, now!|- Billy, McNamara's up.
Come on, kid!
- Joey, dig it out! Dig it out!|- Son of a bitch!
Bring it down, Mac! That's how to|do it! Attaboy! Take two, Mac.
Hey, Morgan, who's the girl with the|striped pants? She's got a nice ass.
- Yeah, that's a real nice ass.|- Who's the guy she's with?
That fuckin' guinea. I hate that|little bitch. Will knows him.
Yeah, I do.|Yeah, fuckin' Carmine Scarpaglia.
- That guy used to beat the shit|out of me in kindergarten.|- That guy?
Yeah.|Mm-hmm.
Fuck this.|Let's get some food.
- Oh, what, Morgan, you're not|gonna go talk to her?|- Fuck her.
- I could go for a Whopper.|- Let's go to Kelly's.
Morgan, I'm not goin' to Kelly's just|'cause you like the take-out girl.
- It's 15 minutes out of our way.|- What the fuck are we gonna do?|We can't spare 15 minutes?
Double burger.
Double burger.
Double burger.
Chuck, I had|a double burger.
Would you shut the fuck up!|I know what you ordered. I was there.
- So give me my fuckin' sandwich.|- What do you mean,|your sandwich? I bought it.
Morgan, how much money|you got on you?
I said I'd get change|when I get the snow cone.
I said that when we pulled up. Give me|my sandwich and stop bein' a prick.
All right, well, give me your fuckin'|16 cents that you got on you now.
We'll put your fuckin' sandwich|on layaway. Here we go.|Keep it right up here for ya.
We'll put you on a program. Every day|you come in here with your six cents.
- At the end of the week,|you get your sandwich.|- Are you gonna be an asshole?
What am I, fuckin' sandwich|welfare? I think you should|establish a good line of credit.
Like how you bought|your couch-- payment plans.
Remember how your mother brought in|ten dollars every day for a year.
She finally got her couch|Rent-A-Center style.
- Can I have my food, please?|- Here's your fuckin' double burger.
- Whoa!|- Hey, hold up, Chuck.
- Slow it down.|- Who do we got?
- I don't know yet.|- Hey, douche bag!
Yeah, you, you skank face!
- Shut the fuck up.|- Get outta here.|- What are you worried about?
Why don't you lick|my love stick?
We seen the guy 15 minutes ago.|We should've fight him then.|We're eatin' our snacks now.
- Shut up, Morgan, you're goin'.|- I'm not goin'.|- So don't go.
- I'm not goin'.|- Fuckin' go, Morgan.
Let me tell you somethin'. If you're not|out there in two fuckin' seconds,
when I'm done with them,|you're next.
Carmine, it's me, Will. Remember,|we went to kindergarten together.
# Way down the street|there's a light in his place #
# He opens the door, he's|got that look on his face ##
- Fuckin', let's go, man.|- Step on his fuckin' head.
Get his ass on the ground.|Stop that motherfucker.
Motherfucker, die!
- Carter!|- Come on!
Will! Will, come on!
Will, come on.|Let's go. Let's go.
Easy, brother, easy.
- Hey, fellas,|thanks for comin' out.|- Come here!
Whoa! Whoa!
Ah. Fuck.
Is it just my imagination,|or has my class grown considerably?
Well, by no stretch|of my imagination...
do I believe you've all come here|to hear me lecture.
Rather, to ascertain the identity|of the mystery math magician.
So without further adieu, come forward,|silent rogue, and receive thy prize.
Well, I'm sorry to disappoint|my spectators, but...
it seems there will be|no unmasking here today.
However, uh, my colleagues and l|have conferred,
and there is a problem|on the board right now...
that took us|more than two years to prove.
So let this be said:|The gauntlet has been thrown down,
but the faculty have answered|and answered with vigor.
Hey, when's the arraignment?
Next week.
Sorry.
- What are you doing?|- Sorry.
That's people's work.|You can't graffiti here.
- Don't you walk away from me!|- Hey, fuck you!
Oh, you're a clever one.|What's your name?
Oh, my God.
Looks right.
Will, how retarded do you gotta be|to get fired from that job?
I mean, how hard is it|to push a motherfuckin' broom around?
Mitch, you got fired|from pushin' a fuckin' broom.
I got fired 'cause|management was restructuring.
Yeah, restructuring the amount|of retards they had workin' for 'em.
Shut up. You get canned|more than tuna, bitch.
At least I got a motherfuckin' job|right now, don't I?
- Why'd you get fired, Will? Come on.|- Management was restructuring.
- My uncle could probably|get you on a demo team.|- Can he do that?
You kiddin' me! I asked you|yesterday if I could get a job.
And I told you "no"|yesterday.
- What's up, Casey?|- What's up, Case?|- What's up, Big Case?
Let's sit over here.
All right. Let's go.
Oh, this is-- this is|a Harvard bar, huh?
I thought there'd be, like,|equations and shit on the wall.
I will take a pitcher|of the finest lager in the house.
Timeout. I'm gonna have to bust|a little move on them Harvard|hotties down there at the bar.
- Work some magic.|- Get some potion for us.
- Oh, hello.|- Oh, hello.
- Hi. How are ya?|- Fine.
- So, do you ladies, uh--|- Come here often?
Do I come here?|I come here a bit.
I'm here, you know,|from time to time.
- Do you go to school here?|- Yep.
- Yeah, that's it.|I think I had a class with you.|- Oh, yeah. What class?
- History.|- Maybe.
Yes, I think|that's what it was.
You don't necessarily-- may not|remember me. You know, I like it here.
- It doesn't mean 'cause I go here,|I'm a genius. I am very smart.|- Hey.
- Hey, how's it goin'? How are ya?|- Good. How ya doin'?
What class|did you say that was?
- History.|- Yeah.
Just history? It must have been|a survey course then.
- Yeah, it was. It was surveys.|- Right.
You should check it out. It's a good|course. It'd be a good class.
- How'd you like that course?|- You know, frankly,
- I found that class, you know,|rather elementary.|- Elementary.
- You know, I don't doubt that it was.|- Yeah.
I, uh,|I remember that class.
It was, um--|It was just between recess and lunch.
Clark, why don't you|go away?
- Why don't you relax?|- Why don't you go away?
-I'm just havin' fun with my new friend.|-Are we gonna have a problem?
No, no, no, no.|There's no problem here.
I was just hoping you might give me|some insight into the evolution...
of the market economy|in the southern colonies.
My contention is that|prior to the Revolutionary War,|the economic modalities--
especially|in the southern colonies--
could most aptly|be characterized as...
- agrarian precapitalist.|- Let me tell you somethin'.
Of course that's your contention.|You're a first-year grad student.
You just got finished readin'|some Marxian historian--|Pete Garrison, probably--
You're gonna be convinced of that till|next month when you get to James Lemon.
Then you're gonna be talkin'|about how the economies|of Virginia and Pennsylvania...
were entrepreneurial|and capitalist way back in 1740.
That's gonna last until|next year. You're gonna be in|here regurgitatin' Gordon Wood,
talkin' about, you know,|the prerevolutionary utopia...
and the capital-forming effects|of military mobilization.
Well,|as a matter of fact, I won't,
because Wood drastically|underestimates the impact of--
Wood drastically underestimates|the impact of social distinctions...
predicated upon wealth,|especially inherited wealth.
You got that from Vickers'|Work in Essex County. Page 98, right?
I read that too. Were you gonna|plagiarize the whole thing for us?
Do you have any thoughts|of your own on this matter?
Or is that your thing? You come into|a bar. You read some obscure passage.
Then pretend--|pawn it off as your own.
As your own idea just to impress|some girls? Embarrass my friend?
See, the sad thing about a guy like|you is, in 50 years,
you're gonna start doin'|some thinkin' on your own.
You're gonna come up with the fact that|there are two certainties in life.
One: Don't do that.
And two: You dropped 150 grand|on a fuckin' education...
you could've got for $1.50|in late charges at the public library.
Yeah, but|I will have a degree,
and you'll be servin' my kids|fries at a drive through|on our way to a skiing trip.
Maybe, but at least|I won't be unoriginal.
If you have a problem with that,|we could step outside.|We could figure it out.
No, man, there's no problem.|It's cool.
- It's cool?|- Yeah.
- Cool.|- Damn right, it's cool.
How do you like me now?
My boy's wicked smart.
I just spent three minutes|in this fuckin' place|and run into a barney, huh?
There it is.
- Nice to meet you.|- They were fine, man.
I was gonna close the deal, but then|Chuck-- Billy insulted one of 'em--
The heavyset girl said I had|a receding hairline, and I was|a few pounds overweight.
And I was, like,|"Go fuck yourself."
I swallowed a bug.
Hi.
- You're an idiot.|- What?
You're an idiot. I've been sitting|over there for 45 minutes...
waiting for you|to come and talk to me.
But I'm tired now,|and I have to go home.
I couldn't sit there anymore|waiting for you.
- I'm Will.|- Skylar.
- Skylar.|- Oh, and by the way,
that guy over there--|Michael Bolton clone--
He wasn't sitting with us,|so to speak.
- I know. I kinda got that impression.|- Good. Okay.
Well, I've got to go.
Gotta get up early and waste some more|money on my overpriced education.
- No, I didn't mean you.|- That's all right.
There's my number. Maybe we can|go out for coffee sometime.
All right, yeah. Maybe we can just get|together and eat a bunch of caramels.
- What do you mean?|- When you think about it,
- it's as arbitrary as drinkin' coffee.|- Oh. Yeah. Okay.
Uh, right, then.
Oh, come on. You're kidding.
Yo!
- Fuck you, bitch!|- Fuck you.
- There goes them fuckin' barneys|right now with his skiin' trip.|- Hold on.
We should've beat|that old bitch's ass.
Do you like apples?
- Yeah.|- Yeah?
Well, I got her number!|How do you like them apples?
# We arrived tonight #
# The miles were over me #
# I turned off the light #
# So, come on, night #
# Everyone who's gone #
# Home to oblivion #
# So come home #
# So come on by ##
Come.
Excuse me? Is this|the Buildings and Grounds office?
Yeah. What can I do|for you?
I just need the name|of a student who works here.
- No students work for me.|- Could you please check?
I have this guy|who works in my building.
- He's about this high.|- Which one is your building?
- Two.|- Two. Building two.
- Look, if anything was stolen,|I should know about it.|- No, it's nothing like that.
I just need his name.
- I can't give you his name|unless you have a complaint.|- This is Professor Lambeau.
And this is|Professor Hayes.
Tom, please.
This is important.|Please.
Will didn't show|for work today.
Got this job through|his P.O. You can call him.
- P.O.?|- Yeah. Parole officer.
Thank you.
Asshole.
There is a lengthy|legal precedent, Your Honor,|going back to 1789,
whereby a defendant|can claim self-defense against|an agent of the government...
if that act is deemed a defense against|tyranny, a defense of liberty.
Your Honor, Henry Ward Beecher,
- in Proverbs from the Plymouth|Pulpit, 1887, said, quote--|- 1887?
- Excuse me.|- This is the 20th century.
- He's gonna make a mockery.|- I am afforded the right to|speak in my own defense, sir,
by the Constitution|of the United States.
- Don't tell me about the Constitution.|- This guarantees my liberty.
"Liberty," in case you've forgotten,|is a soul's right to breathe.
When it cannot take a long breath,|laws are girded too tight.
- Without liberty, man is a syncope.|- Man is a what?
- Ibid., Your Honor.|- Son, my turn.
I've been sitting here|for ten minutes now lookin' over|this rap sheet of yours.
I just can't believe it.|June '93, assault.
September '93, assault.
Grand theft auto,|February of '94.
Where, apparently, you defended yourself|and had the case thrown out by citing...
"free property rights|of horse and carriage" from 1798.
Joke. January '95,|impersonating an officer.
Mayhem, theft, resisting.|All overturned.
I'm also aware that you've been|through several foster homes.
The state removed you from three|because of serious physical abuse.
You know, another judge might care,|but you hit a cop. You're going in.
Motion to dismiss is denied.|$50,000 bail.
Thank you.
Rise.
- Hello?|- Uh, Skylar?
- Yep.|- Hey, uh, it's Will.
- Who?|- It's Will.
You know, the really funny,|good-looking guy you met|at the bar the other night.
I don't recall meeting anyone|who matches that description.|I think I'd remember.
Oh, all right, you got me. It's the|ugly, obnoxious, toothless loser...
who got hammered and wouldn't|leave you alone all night.
Oh, Will! I remember.
How are you?|I was wondering if you'd call me.
- Yeah, look, I was wondering--|- Yo, what's up, baby?
- Hold on one second.|- What you doing? Want some of my ass?
- Herve, I remember you|from juvi. How you doing?|- What you doing?
Oh, yeah,|sorry about that.
I was wonderin' maybe we could|get together sometime this week.
- Sit out at a cafe.|Maybe have some caramels.|- Oh, that sounds wonderful.
- Yeah?|- Yeah, sure. Where are you?
Uh, well, actually,|this is just a shot in the dark,
but, uh, there's no chance|that you're pre-law, is there?
- Have a seat.|- Thank you.
Nice talking to ya.
What the fuck|do you want?
I'm Gerald Lambeau.
Professor you told|to fuck himself.
Well, what the fuck|do you want?
I've spoken to the judge,|and he's agreed to release you|under my supervision.
- Really?|- Yeah.
- Under two conditions.|- What are those?
First condition is that|you meet with me every week.
- What for?|- Go over the proof you're working on,
get into|some more advanced...
combinatorial mathematics,
finite math.
Sounds like a real hoot.
And the second condition|is that--
that you see a therapist.
I'm responsible to submit reports|on those meetings.
If you fail to meet with any of those|conditions, you will have to serve time.
All right. I'll do the math,|but I'm not gonna meet|with any fuckin' therapist.
It's better than spending|that time in jail, isn't it?
I read your book, and "Mike"|was havin' the same problems...
that "Chad," the stockbroker,|was havin'.
Absolutely right. Right on the button.|Good for you, Will.
- Very nice.|- Thank you.
Will, the pressures--|and I'm not judging them.
I'm not labeling them,
but they are destroying|your potential.
No more shenanigans.|No more tomfoolery. No more ballyhoo.
You're right.|God, I know.
You're not gonna get off that easily.|Come on, Will. A bit more.
- Well, I mean,|I do do things, you know?|- What-- What kind of things?
I do things that, you know,|I mean, I hide from people.
- You hide, do you?|- No, no. I mean, I like--|I go places. I interact.
- Really? What sort of places?|- Just certain clubs.
More. That's nice. Yes.|What sort of clubs?
Like, uh, like Fantasy.
Fantasy. That's nice.|A bit more.
It's something like when you get|in there, the music, like, owns you.
It's like that house music. It's like--|# Bom, bom, bom #
# Bom-bom-bom|Boom, boom, boom, boom ##
- You know, you start dancin'.|- Boom, boom, boom. Yeah.
It's just--
Yes.
Do you find it hard to hide|the fact that you're gay?
What are you talking about? What?
Look, buddy, two seconds ago,|you were ready to give me a jump.
A jump? Are you--
I'm terribly sorry|to disappoint you.
Hey, I don't have a problem with it.|I don't care if you putt from the rough.
What are you-- P-- Putting|from the rough? What on earth|are you talking about?
A difficult theorem|could be like a symphony.
It's very erotic.
You go somewhere else.|I can't handle this.
- Wow.|- Thank you, Henry.
- Ah, Henry.|- Hi, Gerry.
You know something?|I can't do this pro bono work anymore.
- It's just not-- It's not worth it.|- What happened?
Well, I'm going on national|television next week.
I mean, I haven't got time|to tell you, much less talk to|that raving looney in there.
An absolute lunatic,|he is.
Henry.
Okay,|you are in your bed, Will.
Now, how old are you?
Seven.
What do you see?
Something's in my room.
What is it?
It's like a-- It's a figure.|It's hoverin' over me.
You are in a safe place,|Will.
It's t-- |It's touchin' me.
Where is it touching you?
It's touching me|down there,
and I'm nervous.
You don't have to be|nervous, Will.
We start dancin' and dancin'.
It's just beautiful,
'cause we can make...
a lot of love|before the sun goes down.
# Skyrockets|in flight #
# Afternoon delight #
- # Hey, hey, hey, afternoon delight #|- Jesus.
# Skyrockets in flight|Da-da-da-da #
- I'm sorry, Rich.|- I have better things to do|with my time.
# Hey, hey, afternoon delight ##|Come on! One dance!
You really hypnotized me,|you know?
- For God's sake, Will.|- What? Oh, come on. He left.|You can't pin that on me.
- I told you to cooperate|with these people.|- Look...
- into my eyes.|- Get out, Will.
I don't need therapy.
That's enough. Get out!
- I called Mel Weintraub|this morning to see--|- Oh, what's the use?
What do you want to do?
- Well, there's someone.|- Who is he?
He used to be my, uh--|my roommate in college.
Trust. Very important|in a relationship.
It's also very important|in a clinical situation.
Why is trust|the most important thing...
in making a breakthrough|with a client?
Maureen, stop the oral fixation|for a moment and join us.
- Vinnie.|- Um--
Because, uh--
Trust is, uh--|Trust is life.
Wow. That's very deep.|Thank you, Vinnie.
Next time,|get the notes from your brother.
If a patient doesn't feel|safe enough trust you, then|they won't be honest with you.
Then there's really no point|for them being in therapy.
I mean, hey, if they don't|trust you, you're never gonna|get them to sleep with you.
That should be the goal|of any good therapist. Nail 'em|while they're vulnerable.
That's my motto.
Oh, good, everyone's back.|Welcome back, everybody.
- Hello, Sean.|- Hey, Gerry.
Um, ladies and gentlemen,|we are in the presence of greatness.
Professor Gerald Lambeau, Field's medal|winner for combinatorial mathematics.
- Hello.|- Anyone know what|the Field's medal is?
It's a really big deal.|It's like the Nobel prize for math.
Except they only give it out once|every four years. It's a great thing.
It's an amazing honor.|Okay, everybody, that's it for today.
Thanks. We'll see you Monday.|We'll be talking about Freud.
Why he did enough cocaine|to kill a small horse. Thank you.
- How are you?|- It's good to see you.
Good to see you.
- Sean, I think I got something|interesting for ya.|- Yeah?
What, you have to have|blood and urine? What's up?
Why didn't you come|to the reunion?
You know, I'm--|I've been busy.
- You were missed.|- Really?
- So how long has it been|since we've seen each other?|- Before Nancy died.
Yeah, I'm sorry.
I was in Paris.|It was that damn conference.
I got your card.|It was nice.
- Come here.|- Now that's a takedown.
Hey, what happened?|Did you get leniency or what?
I got, uh, probation|and then counseling two days a week.
Joke. You're a smoothie.|Come on, Morgan! Just submit!
Hey, Bill, just-just get off him.|We're gonna miss the game.
- I've got a full schedule.|I'm very busy.|- Sean, Sean.
This-This boy is incredible.|I've never seen anything like him.
What makes him|so incredible, Gerry?
- You ever heard of Ramanujan?|- Yeah, yeah. No.
It's a man. He lived|over 100 years ago. He was Indian.
- Dots, not feathers.|- Not feathers. Yeah.
He lived in this tiny hut|somewhere in India.
He had no formal education.
- He had no access|to any scientific work.|- Coffee?
- You, sir?|- Just a little.
But he came across|this old math book,
and from the simple text,|he was able to extrapolate theories...
that had baffled|mathematicians for years.
Yes. Continued fractions.|He wrote, uh--
- Well, he mailed it|to Hardy at Cambridge.|- Yeah, Cambridge. Yeah.
- And Hardy immediately recognized|the brilliance of his work...|- Mm-hmm.
and brought him over to England,|and then they worked together for years,
creating some of the most|exciting math theory ever done.
This-This Ramanujan--
his-his genius|was unparalleled, Sean.
- Well, this boy's just like that.|- Hmm.
- But he's-- he's a bit defensive.|- Hmm.
I need someone|who can get through to him.
- Like me?|- Yeah, like you.
- Why?|- Well, because you have|the same kind of background.
- What background?|- Well, you're from|the same neighborhood.
- He's from Southie?|- Yeah.
Boy genius from Southie.
- How many shrinks you go to before me?|- Five.
- Let me guess.|Barry? Henry? Not Rick?|- Yeah. Yeah.
- Sean, please, just meet|with him once a week.|- Mm-hmm.
Please?
It's a poker game with this kid.|Don't let him know what you've got.
He probably even read your book,|if he could find it.
It's gonna be hard|for him to find.
- Hi, Will.|- Hi.
This is Sean Maguire.|Will Hunting.
How are ya?
- Yeah. Let's get started.|- Yeah, let's do it.
I'm pumped.|Let's let the healing begin.
- Will you excuse us?|- Yeah, please, Tom.
You, too, Gerry.
Yeah, of course.
How are you?
Where you from|in Southie?
-l like what you've done with the place.|-Oh, thanks.
Do you buy all these books|retail,
or do you send away for, like,|a "shrink kit" that comes with|all these volumes included?
- Do you like books?|- Yeah.
- Did you read any of these books?|- I don't know.
- How about any of these books?|- Probably not.
What about the ones|on the top shelf? You read those?
- Yeah, I read those.|- Good for you. What do you|think about 'em?
I'm not here for a fuckin' book|report. They're your books.|Why don't you read 'em?
I did. I had to.
- Must've taken you a long time.|- Yeah, it did.
United States of America:|A Complete History, Volume l.
Jesus. If you wanna read|a real history book,
read Howard Zinn's|A People's History in the United States.
That book'll fuckin'|knock you on your ass.
Better than Chomsky's|Manufacturing Consent?
- Do you think that's a good book?|- You fuckin' people baffle me.
You spend all your money on|these fuckin' fancy books.|You surround yourselves with 'em.
- They're the wrong fuckin' books.|- What are the right|fuckin' books, Will?
- Whatever blows your hair back.|- Yeah. Haven't got much hair left.
Hey, you know you'd be better|shoving that cigarette up your ass.
- It'd probably be healthier for you.|- Yeah, I know.
- It really gets in the way of my yoga.|- You work out, huh?
- What, you lift?|- Yeah.
- Nautilus?|- No, free weights.
- Oh, really? Free weights, huh?|- Yeah. Yeah, big time.
- Yeah?|- Just like that.
- What do you bench?|- 285. What do you bench?
You paint that?
- Yeah. Do you paint?|- Uh-uh.
- Do you sculpt?|- No.
Do you like art?
- Do you like music?|- This is a real piece of shit.
Oh, tell me what|you really think.
Just the linear and impressionistic mix|makes a very muddled composition.
It's also a Winslow Homer|rip-off, except you got|whitey rowin' the boat there.
Well, it's art, Monet.|It wasn't very good.
- That's not really|what concerns me though.|- What concerns you?
-Just the coloring.|-You know what the real bitch of it is?
It's paint-by-number.
Is it color-by-number? Because|the colors are fascinating to me.
- Aren't they really?|- You bet.
I think you're about one step away|from cuttin' your fuckin' ear off.
- Really?|- Oh, yeah.
Think I should move to the south of|France, change my name to "Vincent"?
- You ever heard the sayin',|"any port in a storm"?|- Yeah.
- Yeah, maybe that means you.|- In what way?
- Maybe you're in the middle|of a storm, a big fuckin' storm.|- Yeah, maybe.
The sky's fallin' on your head.|The waves are crashin'|over your little boat.
The oars are about to snap.
You just piss in your pants.|You're cryin' for the harbor.
So maybe you do|what you gotta do to get out.
You know, maybe you became|a psychologist.
Bingo. That's it. Let me do my job now.|You start with me. Come on.
- Maybe you married the wrong woman.|- Maybe you should watch your mouth!
Watch it right there, chief,|all right?
Ah.
That's it, isn't it?
You married|the wrong woman.
What happened?|What, did she leave you?
Was she, you know-- |banging some other guy?
If you ever disrespect my wife again,|I will end you.
I will fuckin' end you.
Got that, chief?
Time's up.
Yeah.
At ease, gentlemen.
You okay?
Look, I'll understand if you don't|wanna meet with him again.
Thursday, 4:00.|Make sure the kid's here.
Yeah.
Thanks.
Well, you look lovely|in those glasses.
- Thank you very much.|- They're just beautiful.
- Yes, I always wanted|dark blue eye shadow.|- Wonderful.
Growing up in England, you know,|I went to a very nice school.
You know, it was kind of progressive,|organic, do-it-yourself, private school.
Then Harvard.|Hopefully med school.
You know, I figured out,|by the end,
my brain's gonna be worth|$250,000.
That sounded horrible,|didn't it?
Bring me another mai tai!
Yeah, that's cool. I mean,|I bet your parents were happy to pay.
No, I was happy to pay.|I inherited the money.
Wow. Is Harvard gettin'|all that money?
No, Stanford. I'm going there|in June when I graduate.
All right, so you just wanted to use|this sailor and then run away, huh?
I was gonna, you know, experiment on you|for anatomy class first, obviously.
In that case, that's fine.
- Hey, you wanna see|my magic tricks, Skylar?|- Of course.
All right.|Promise to--
All right.
- This one's for you, Rudolph.|- Wait, wait. You need my wand.
All right, give me a hit.|Thank you. All right.
I'm gonna make|all these caramels disappear.
You ready?|Ready.
One, two, three.
They're all gone.
That was my-- It works better|when I have my rabbit.
Well--
I don't really date,|you know, that much.
How very unfortunate...|I think for me.
You know what I mean?|I know you've been thinking about it.
- Oh, no, I haven't.|- Yes, you have.
- No, I really haven't.|- Yes, you have. You were hoping|to get a good night kiss.
No, you know, I tell ya,|I was hopin' to get a good night laid.
But I'll settle for,|like, a kiss, you know?
- How very noble of you.|- Thank you.
- Mm.|- No, I was-- I was hopin' for a kiss.
Well, why don't we just|get it out of the way now?
- Right now?|- Yeah.
Come on.
I think I got|some of your pickle.
You again, huh?
Come with me.
So what's this?|A Taster's Choice moment between guys?
This is really nice. You got a thing|for swans? Is this, like, a fetish?
Is it something, like, maybe|we need to devote some time to?
- Thought about what you said to me|the other day. About my painting.|- Oh.
Stayed up half the night|thinking about it.
Something occurred to me.
I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep|and haven't thought about you since.
- You know what occurred to me?|- No.
You're just a kid. You don't have the|faintest idea what you're talking about.
- Why, thank you.|- It's all right.
You've never been|out of Boston.
Nope.
So if I asked you about art,|you'd probably give me the skinny...
on every art book|ever written.
Michelangelo?|You know a lot about him.
Life's work, political aspirations.|Him and the pope.
Sexual orientation.|The whole works, right?
I bet you can't tell me what it|smells like in the Sistine Chapel.
You never actually stood there|and looked up at that beautiful ceiling.
Seeing that.
If I ask you about women,
you'll probably give me a syllabus|of your personal favorites.
You may have even been laid|a few times.
But you can't tell me what it feels like|to wake up next to a woman...
and feel truly happy.
You're a tough kid.
I ask you about war, you'd probably|throw Shakespeare at me, right?
"Once more into the breach,|dear friends."
But you've never been near one.
You've never held your best friend's|head in your lap...
and watch him gasp his last|breath lookin' to you for help.
If I asked you about love,|you'd probably quote me a sonnet,
but you've never looked at a woman|and been totally vulnerable.
Known someone that could|level you with her eyes.
Feelin' like God put|an angel on Earth just for you,
who could rescue you|from the depths of hell.
And you wouldn't know|what it's like to be her angel,
to have that love for her|be there forever.
Through anything.|Through cancer.
And you wouldn't know about sleepin'|sittin' up in a hospital room...
for two months,|holding her hand,
because the doctors|could see in your eyes...
that the terms "visiting hours"|don't apply to you.
You don't know about real loss,
'cause that only occurs when you love|something more than you love yourself.
I doubt you've ever dared|to love anybody that much.
I look at you. I don't see|an intelligent, confident man.
I see a cocky,|scared shitless kid.
But you're a genius, Will.|No one denies that.
No one could possibly understand|the depths of you.
But you presume to know everything about|me because you saw a painting of mine.
You ripped|my fuckin' life apart.
You're an orphan, right?
Do you think I'd know the first thing|about how hard your life has been--
how you feel, who you are--
because I read Oliver Twist?
Does that encapsulate you?
Personally, I don't give a shit|about all that, because--
You know what? I can't|learn anything from you...
I can't read|in some fuckin' book.
Unless you wanna talk|about you,
who you are.
And I'm fascinated.|I'm in.
But you don't wanna do that,|do you, sport?
You're terrified|of what you might say.
Your move, chief.
Hello? Hello?
Hello?
Professor Valenti,|are you calling me again?
Freak.
- Oh, God.|- Christ, who did you call?
- No one. I forgot the number.|- You fuckin' retarded?
You went all the way out there in the|rain, and you didn't bring the number.
No, it was your mother's 900 number.|I just ran out of quarters.
Why don't we get off on mothers?|I just got off yours.
That's|pretty funny, Morgan.
That's a fuckin' nickel,|bitch.
- Keep antagonizing me.|Watch what happens.|- All right, then, Morgan.
- Watch what happens.|- All right, then, Morgan.
Keep fuckin' with me.
No smoking.
What do you mean, he didn't talk?|You were in there for an hour.
He just sat there counting the seconds|until the session was over.
- Pretty impressive, actually.|- Why would he do that?
To prove to me he doesn't have|to talk to me if he doesn't want to.
What is this? Some kind of|staring contest between two kids|from the old neighborhood?
Yeah, it is,|and I can't talk first.
We know your theory, Alexander,|but the boy's found|a simple geometrical picture.
- A tree structure won't work.|- Look now.|He's joining the two vertices.
But I can do the sum.
- It's how you group|the terms, Alexander.|- But, Gerry.
If we do the whole thing|this way, then--
Hey, look, look.
I wrote it down.|It's simpler this way.
Sometimes|people get lucky.
You're a brilliant man.
You know,|I was on this plane once,
and I'm sittin' there, and...
the captain gets on,|he does his whole, you know,
"we'll be cruisin' at 35,000 feet,"|but then he puts the mike down.
- He forgets to turn it off.|- Mm-hmm.
So he turns to the copilot.|He's, like,
"You know, all I could use right now is|a fuckin' blow job and a cup of coffee."
So the stewardess fuckin' goes bombin'|up from the back of the plane...
to tell him|the microphone's still on.
This guy in the back|of the plane's like, "Hey, hon,|don't forget the coffee."
You ever been on a plane?
No, but it's a fuckin' joke. It works|better if I tell it in the first person.
Yeah, it does.
I have been laid,|you know?
Really? Good for you.
- Big time, big time.|- Big time, huh?
I went on a date last week.
- How'd it go?|- It was good.
- Goin' out again?|- I don't know.
- Why?|- Haven't called her.
- Christ, you're an amateur.|- I know what I'm doin'.
Yeah. Don't worry about me.|I know what I'm doin'.
Yeah, but this girl was, like,|you know, beautiful.
She's smart. She's fun. She's different|from most of the girls I've been with.
- So call her up, Romeo.|- Why, so I can realize|she's not that smart.
That she's fuckin' boring?|You know, I mean, you don't--
This girl's, like, fuckin' perfect|right now. I don't wanna ruin that.
Maybe you're perfect right now.|Maybe you don't wanna ruin that.
But I think that's|a super philosophy, Will.
That way, you can go through|your entire life without ever|having to really know anybody.
My wife used to fart|when she was nervous.
She had all sorts|of wonderful idiosyncrasies.
You know, she used to fart|in her sleep.
Just thought I'd share that|with you.
One night it was so loud,|it woke the dog up.
She woke up and gone, like,|"Was that you?"
I said, "Yeah." I didn't have|the heart to tell her. Oh, God.
- She woke herself up?|- Yes.
Oh, Christ. But, Will,|she's been dead two years|and that's the shit I remember.
It's wonderful stuff, you know?|Little things like that.
Yeah, but those are the things|I miss the most.
Those little idiosyncrasies|that only I knew about.
That's what made her|my wife.
Boy, and she had the goods on me too.|She knew all my little peccadillos.
People call these things|"imperfections," but they're not.
That's the good stuff.
And then we get to choose who|we let into our weird little worlds.
You're not perfect, sport.
And let me save you|the suspense.
This girl you met,|she isn't perfect either.
But the question is whether or not|you're perfect for each other.
That's the whole deal.|That's what intimacy is all about.
Now you can know|everything in the world, sport,
but the only way you're findin' out|that one is by givin' it a shot.
You certainly won't learn|from an old fucker like me.
Even if I did know,|I wouldn't tell a pissant like you.
Yeah, why not?
You told me every other|fuckin' thing. Jesus Christ.
Fuckin' talk more than any shrink|I ever seen in my life.
I teach the shit.|I didn't say I knew how to do it.
Yeah.
You ever think|about gettin' remarried?
My wife's dead.
- Hence the word "remarried."|- She's dead.
Yeah, well, I think|that's a super philosophy, Sean.
I mean, that way, you can actually|go through the rest of your life...
without ever really knowing|anybody.
Time's up.
- Hold it open.|- Okay.
Thanks.
# I am happy with you #
# I know I'm about|to love you #
# Yeah, yeah, yeah|You know him #
- # Oh, my, you made me-- ##
"G" minor seventh.|Saddest of all chords.
- Hello.|- Hey.
- Where have you been?|- I'm sorry. I've been, like--|I've been really busy, and--
- But, um--|- Mmm. Me too.
Yeah. I--|I thought you'd call.
Yeah, um--
- I mean, we had a really good time.|- I had a really good time too.
I mean, I just-- I--
I'm sorry, you know.|I blew it.
No. No, I mean,|you know, it's all right.
Yeah, um, so, I was|wonderin' if, uh,
if, you know, you'd give me|another crack at it.
You know, let me|take you out again.
- I can't.|- All right.
Oh, no, I didn't-- I didn't mean|I can't, like, ever.
I just can't right now.
I've got to assign|the proton spectrum for "ebogamine."
All that sounds really,|really interesting. It's|actually fantastically boring.
- All right, um--|- Maybe some other time.
- Like tomorrow?|- Um, yeah, all right.
- Okay.|- Okay.
- Bye.|- Bye.
What are you doing here?
I couldn't wait|till tomorrow.
Where the fuck|did you get this?
I had to sleep|with someone in your class.
Oh, I hope it was someone|with the open-toed sandals|and the really bad breath.
- Come on. Let's go have some fun.|- No, I've got to learn this.
Well, you're not going into|surgery tomorrow, are you?
- No.|- Let's go.
Oh, my God!|My dog is winning!
Come on, Misty!
Come on! Run!|Look at that! Come on!
Look, there he goes.|Misty, run! Come on!
- We won.|- He totally won.
So did you grow up|around here then?
Not far.|South Boston.
Still glowing from my win.
Look at you.|You're so happy.
And what was|that like then?
It was normal, I guess.|Nothin' special.
Do you got lots of|brothers and sisters?
- Do I have a lot of|brothers and sisters?|- That's what I said.
- Well, Irish Catholic,|what do you think?|- Right. That's right.
- How many?|- You wouldn't believe me if I told you.
- Why? Go on. What? Five?|- No.
Seven? Eight?|How many?
- I have 12 big brothers.|- You do not!
No, I swear to God. I swear to God.|I'm lucky 13 right here.
Do you know|all their names?
Do I-- Yeah,|they're my brothers.
What are they called?
Marky, Ricky, Danny, Terry,|Mikey, Davey, Timmy, Tommy,|Joey, Robby, Johnny and Brian.
Say it again.
Marky, Ricky, Danny, Terry,|Mikey, Davey, Timmy, Tommy,|Joey, Robby, Johnny and Brian.
And Willy.
- Willy?|- Yeah.
- Will.|- Wow.
- Do you still see all of them?|- Yeah, well, they all live in Southie.
-I'm livin' with three of 'em right now.|-Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.|- I'd like to meet them.
Yeah, we'll do that.
Oh, you know,|I read your book last night.
Oh, so you're the one.
Do you still, uh--|Do you still counsel veterans?
No, I don't.
- Why not?|- Well, I gave it up|when my wife got sick.
You ever wonder what your life|would be like if you, uh,|if you never met your wife?
What? Wonder if I'd be|better off without her?
- No, no, no, I'm not saying,|like, better off.|- No.
- I didn't mean it like that.|- It's all right.|It's an important question.
'Cause you'll have bad times,|but that'll always wake you up...
to the good stuff|you weren't paying attention to.
And you don't regret|meetin' your wife?
Why? 'Cause the pain|I feel now?
Oh, I got regrets, Will, but I don't|regret a single day I spent with her.
So when did you know, like,|that she was the one for you?
October 21, 1975.
Jesus Christ.|You know the fuckin' day?
Oh, yeah, 'cause it was game six|of the World Series, biggest|game in Red Sox history.
- Yeah, sure.|- My friends and I had slept out|all night to get tickets.
- You got tickets?|- Yep. Day of the game|I was sittin' in a bar,
waitin' for the game to start|and in walks this girl.
It was an amazing game though.|You know, bottom of the eighth,|Carbo ties it up.
It was 6-6.|It went to 12.
Bottom of the 12th, in stepped|Carlton Fisk, old Pudge.
Steps up to the plate.|You know, he's got that weird stance.
- Yeah, yeah.|- And then-- Boom!|He clocks it, you know.
High fly ball|down the left field line!
Thirty-five thousand people|on their feet, yellin' at the ball.
But that's nothin', 'cause Fisk,|he's wavin' at the ball like a madman.
- Yeah, I've seen that.|- "Get over! Get over!
- Right.|- Get over!"
Then it hits the foul pole.|He goes ape-shit, and 35,000 fans--
They charge the field,|you know.
Yeah, and he's fuckin'|blowin' people outta the way.
"Get outta the way!|Get outta the way!"
I can't fuckin' believe you had|tickets to that fuckin' game!
- Did you rush the field?|- No, I didn't rush the|fuckin' field. I wasn't there.
- What?|- No, I was in a bar,|havin' a drink with my future wife.
You missed Pudge Fisk's home run|to have a fuckin' drink|with some lady you never met?
Yeah, but you should have|seen her. She was a stunner.
- I don't care if--|- Oh, no, no, she lit up the room.
- I don't care if Helen|of Troy walks into the room.|- Oh, Helen of Troy!
That's game six! Oh, my God,|and who were these friends of yours?
- They let you get away with that?|- They had to.
-What did you say to 'em?|-l just slid my ticket across the table.
I said, "Sorry, guys.|I gotta see about a girl."
- "I gotta go see about a girl"?|- Yes!
That's what you said?|They let you get away with that?
Oh, yeah. They saw it|in my eyes that I meant it.
- You're kiddin' me?|- No, I'm not kidding you, Will.
That's why I'm not talkin'|right now about some girl|I saw at a bar 20 years ago...
and how I always regretted|not goin' over and talkin' to her.
I don't regret the 18 years|I was married to Nancy.
I don't regret the six years I had|to give up counseling when she got sick,
and I don't regret the last years|when she got really sick.
And I sure as hell don't|regret missin' a damn game.
That's regret.
Wow!
Would have been nice|to catch that game though.
I didn't know Pudge|was gonna hit a home run.
You know, I'm very, very|useful on the court.
I'm extremely tall.
- You're not that tall.|- I dunk.
Will I ever play in the N.B.A.?
"It is decidedly so."|Hmph.
Why do we always stay here?
'Cause it's nicer|than my place.
Yes, but I've never|seen your place.
I know.
When am I gonna meet|your friends and your brothers?
Well, they don't really|come down here that much.
I think I can make it|to South Boston.
It's kind of a hike.
Is it me you're hiding from them|or the other way around?
- All right, we'll go.|- When?
I don't know.|We'll go sometime next week.
What if I said I would not|sleep with you again until|you let me meet your friends?
I'd say it's, like, 4:30 in the mornin'.|They're probably up.
Oh, my God.|Men are shameless.
If you're not thinking|with your wiener, then you're|acting directly on its behalf.
You bet. And on behalf of my wiener,|can I get an advance payment?
I don't know. Let's ask.|"Outlook does not look good."
- What?|- Fuck the-- Hey, Chuck.|No. Nothing. Go back to sleep.
"Outlook"? That's the|same thing that told you|you was gonna play in the N.B.A.
Exactly, so look out. You'd better|start buying some season tickets.
Mmm! I plan to. I'm tall.|I like wearing shorts.
Hook, hook. Dunk, dunk.
- You're not that tall.|- Yes, I am.
Maybe I'm all|about three points.
I'm all about home runs.
Stop mixing your|sporting metaphors.
A leprechaun's got his dick|in the monkey's ass.
Morgan comes runnin' in, goin',|"l don't mind it. I don't mind--"
Well, I can't believe you|brought Skylar here when we're|fuckin' all bombed and drinkin'.
I know, Morgan. It's a real rarity|we'd be all drinkin'.
My uncle Marty drinks. He'll go|on a bender for six, eight months.
Did I ever tell ya what happened|to him when he was drivin'|up there and got pulled over?
- I told you guys, right?|- Marty, yeah.
Let me tell ya what happened to my uncle|Marty, because you oughta know this.
He's always tellin' stories. Every time|we come here he's got another story.
But we all heard this one.|Go ahead. Say it anyway.
I will go ahead. Thanks a lot.|Guess I have the floor now.
My uncle Marty's|drivin' home, right?
Bombed out of his tree, right? Just|hammered out of his gourd. Just wrecked.
This state trooper sees him, pulls him|over. So my uncle's fucked basically.
Got him out of the car,|tryin' to make him walk the line.
He gets out of the car, pukes,|and the statie's pretty sure|he's over the legal limit.
So he's about to throw the cuffs|on him and put him in jail.
All of a sudden, 50 yards down the road,|there's this huge fuckin' boom.
- Statie gets real spooked.|He turns around--|- He got shot?
No. So-- So-- You|heard this story before.
Yeah, Morgan, stop.|Stop.
Some other guy's car had hit a tree.|There was an accident.
Anyway--
- How could he hear--|- Shut the fuck up!
- You're drivin' him nuts.|- I'm gonna break your neck. Shut up!
He told you the story|once before.
So he tells my uncle,|"Stay here. Don't move."
Statie goes runnin' down the road|to deal with the other accident.
After a few minutes of just|lyin' in his own piss and vomit,
my uncle starts wonderin'|what he's doin' there.
Gets up, gets in his car|and just drives home.
The next mornin'|my uncle's just passed out.
He hears this knockin' at the door.
So he goes downstairs,|pulls the door open-- "What?"
It's the state trooper|that pulled him over.
Statie says,|"Fuck you mean, 'What?'
You know what. I pulled you over|last night is what, and you took off."
He's like, "l never|seen you before in my life.
I've been home all night with my kids.|I don't know who the fuck you are."
He's like, "You know who I am.|Let me get in your garage."
My uncle's like, "What?" He said, "You|heard me. Let me get in your garage."
He was like, "All right. Fine." Takes|him out to the garage, opens the door.
And there's-- The statie's police|cruiser is in my uncle's garage.
He was so fuckin'--
He was so fuckin' hammered|he drove the wrong car home.
The best part about it is,|the fuckin' state trooper...
was so embarrassed|he didn't do anything.
He'd been drivin' around all night in my|uncle's Chevelle, lookin' for the house.
All right, Chuck, what the fuck|is the point of your story?
He got away.|That's the point.
- Well, question--|- Come on. Stop.
- I'm tryin' to clarify somethin'.|- You're embarrassing him.
- It doesn't make any sense.|- It does make sense,
if you listen to the story|and quit askin' questions.
Well, let's see if you can get this one.|I've got a little story for you.
All right, there's an old couple|in bed, Mary and Paddie.
They wake up on the morning|of their 50th anniversary.
Mary looks over and|gazes adoringly at Paddie.
She's like,|"Oh, Jesus, Paddie.
You're such a good-looking|feller. I love ya.
I want to give ya|a little present.
Anything your little heart desires,|I'm goin' to give it to ya.
What would ya like?
Paddie's like, "Oh, gee, Mary.|That's a very sweet offer.
Now, in 50 years, there's one thing|that's been missing,
and, uh, I would like you|to give me a blow job.
I would like for it."|Mary's like, "All right."
She takes her teeth out, puts 'em in|the glass. She gives him a blow job.
Afterwards, Paddie's like, "Yeah, geez,|now that's what I've been missin'.
That was the most beautiful,|earth-shattering thing ever!
Beautiful, Mary!|I love ya!
Is there anything|that I can do for you?"
Mary looks up to him and she goes,|"Give us a kiss."
- Oh!|- Oh, my God!
- That's filthy.|- It's not that filthy.|I've heard filthy.
- Get off of me!|- All right. See you guys later.
All right.|Take it easy, Bill.
So, Skylar,|thanks for comin' by.
Changed my opinion|of Harvard people.
You don't want to rush|to judgment on that one,|'cause they're not all like me.
Oh. I'm sure.|It was nice to meet ya.
- Oh.|- Take it easy. Slowly back away.
- Oh, come on. Brother.|- I don't know what you're doin', dude.
- You're givin' us a ride.|- What the fuck do I look like to you?
- Come on, Chuck.|- You're walkin', bitch.|Will's takin' the car.
All right, thanks, sucker.|I appreciate it.
I don't know what you're|gettin' all serious about.
- You're droppin' me off first.|- It's really out of the way.
Oh, okay. Just 'cause you|don't have to sleep in your|one-room palace tonight...
don't start|thinkin' you're bad.
Hey, wait a minute. You said|we were gonna see your place.
- Not tonight.|- Oh, no, not tonight.|Not any other night.
He knows once you see that shit-hole|he's gettin' dropped like a bad habit.
But I wanted to meet|your brothers.
We're gonna do that|another time.
All right.
Need them keys.
The stewardess hears this|and goes haulin' ass down the aisle.
I yell,|"Don't forget the coffee."
No shit!|You didn't say that.
For Christ's sake, Marty,|it's a joke.
- I know someone that|actually happened to, Marty.|- A joke.
- Gerry.|- Hi.
- Have trouble findin' the place?|- No, I took a cab.
Timmy, this is Gerry.|We went to college together.
How you doin'?|Nice to meet ya.
- Pleased to meet you.|- Can I get you a beer?
Um, no, just a Perrier.
That's French|for club soda.
- Club soda, yeah.|- Couple of sandwiches too.
- Sure.|- Put it on my tab.
You ever plannin'|on payin' your tab?
Yeah, chief, got the winning|lottery ticket right here.
- What's the jackpot?|- Twelve million.
- I don't think that'll cover it.|- It'll cover your sex change operation.
- Nuts?|- No, thank you.
So, you wanted|to talk about Will.
- Well, it seems to be going well.|- I think so.
Have you talked to him|at all about his future?
No, we haven't gotten into that yet.|We're still bangin' away at the past.
Maybe you should. My phone's been|ringing off the hook with job offers.
- What kind?|- Cutting edge mathematics, think tanks.
The kind of place where a mind|like Will's is given free rein.
That's great that there are|offers, but I don't really|think he's ready for that.
I'm not sure|you understand, Sean.
- What don't I understand?|- Here you go, guys.
- Thanks, Tim.|- Yeah, thank you.
Just so you don't|get sticky fingers.
Tim, can you help us?
We're tryin'|to settle a bet.
Uh-oh.
- Ever heard of Jonas Salk?|- Sure. Cured polio.
-Ever heard of Albert Einstein?|-Hey.
How about Gerald Lambeau?|Ever heard of him?
- No.|- Thank you, Tim.
- So who won the bet?|- I did.
This isn't about me, Sean.
I'm nothing compared|to this young man.
You ever hear of|Gerald Lambeau?
In 1905 there were hundreds|of professors renown for|their study of the universe.
But it was a 26-year-old|Swiss patent clerk,
doing physics in his spare time,|who changed the world.
Can you imagine if Einstein|would have given that up...
just to get drunk with his buddies|in Vienna every night.
We all would have|lost something.
Tim would never|have heard of him.
- Pretty dramatic, Gerry.|- No, it isn't, Sean.
This boy has that gift.
He just doesn't got the direction,|but we can give that to him.
Hey, Gerry, in the 1960s,|there was a young man graduated|from University of Michigan.
Did some brilliant work|in mathematics.
Specifically,|bounded harmonic functions.
Then he went on to Berkeley.|He was assistant professor.|Showed amazing potential.
Then he moved to Montana, and|he blew the competition away.
- Yeah, so who was he?|- Ted Kaczynski.
Haven't heard of him.
- Hey, Timmy!|- Yo!
- Who's Ted Kaczynski?|- Unabomber.
That's exactly|what I'm talking about.
- We gotta give this kid direction.|- Yeah--
He can contribute to the world,|and we can help him do that.
Direction's one thing.|Manipulation's another.
- Sean--|- We have to let him find--
I'm not sitting at home|every night twisting my mustache|and hatching a plan...
to ruin this boy's life!
I was doing advanced mathematics|when I was 18,
and it still took me over 20 years to do|something worthy of a Field's medal.
Maybe he doesn't want|what you want.
There's more to life|than a fuckin' Field's medal.
This is too important, Sean,|and it's above personal rivalry.
Wait a minute.|Let's talk about the boy.
Why don't we give him time|to figure out what he wants?
That's a wonderful theory, Sean.|It worked wonders for you, didn't it?
Yeah, it did,|you arrogant fuckin' prick!
Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry|that I came here today.
I came here out of courtesy.|I wanted to keep you in the loop.
Nice to be in the loop.
The boy's in a meeting right now|I set up for him over at McNeil.
Well, Will, I'm not exactly sure|what you mean.
We've already|offered you a position.
Nobody in this town works|without a retainer, guys.
You think you can find somebody|who does, you have my blessin'.
But I think we all know|that person is not gonna|represent you as well as I can.
Will, our offer|is $84,000 a year.
Retainer!|Retainer.
You want us to give you|cash right now?
Whoa-ho-ho. Easy--|Now, I didn't say that.
Allegedly,|your situation, for you,
would be concurrently|improved if I had...
$200 in my back pocket|right now.
I don't think I can-- Larry?
- I've got $73.|- Will you take a check?
Let me tell you somethin'.|You're suspect.
Yeah, you. I don't know|what your reputation is in this town,
but after the shit|you tried to pull today,
you can bet|I'll be lookin' into you.
Now, any business|we have heretofore,
you can speak with|my aforementioned attorney.
Good day, gentlemen.
And until that day comes,|keep your ear to the grindstone.
- How's it goin'?|- Fine.
Yeah.
Good.
- Want some help?|- No!
Come on. Give me one little peek,|and we'll go to the batting cages.
No.
It is actually important|that I learn this.
- It's really important... to me, okay?|- All right.
- Why don't we just|hang out here all day?|- Yes, why don't we?
All right, Mr. Nosey Parker.
Seeing as you're intent|on breaking my balls,
- let me ask you a question.|- All right.
Do you have|a photographic memory?
I don't know. I just kind|of remember. I mean, how do you|remember your phone number?
You just do.
- Have you studied organic chemistry?|- A little bit.
- Oh, just for fun?|- Yeah, for kicks.
Yeah, it's so much fun|studying organic chemistry.
Are you mad?
Have you completely|lost your mind?
Nobody studies it for fun.|It's not a necessity,|especially for someone like you.
- Someone like me?|- Yeah.
Someone who divides their time, fairly|evenly, between batting cages and bars.
- I would hardly say it was a necessity.|- Oh.
You know, there are very|smart people here at Harvard.
Even they have to study,|because this is really hard.
And yet... you do it|so easily. I don't understand.
I don't understand|how your mind works.
- Did you play the piano?|- I want to talk about this.
No, I'm trying to explain it to you.|Do you play the piano?
- Yeah, a bit.|- So when you look at|a piano, you see Mozart.
- I see "Chopsticks."|- All right, well, Beethoven, okay?
He looked at a piano, and it just|made sense to him. He could just play.
- So what are you saying?|You play the piano?|- Not a lick.
I look at a piano, I see a bunch of|keys, three pedals and a box of wood.
But Beethoven, Mozart--|They saw it. They could just play.
I couldn't paint you a picture.|I probably can't hit the ball|out of Fenway.
- And I can't play the piano.|- But you can do my|O-chem paper in under an hour.
Right. Well, I mean, when|it came to stuff like that,|I could always just play.
That's the best|I can explain it.
- Come here.|I have to tell you something.|- Huh?
- I have to tell you something.|- Oh.
Well--
- It's not fair.|- What's not fair? What?
I've been here for four years,
and I've only just found you.
Well, you found me.
- Are you awake?|- No.
Yes, you are.
What?
I want you to come|to California with me.
- You sure about that?|- Oh, yeah.
Yeah, but how do you know?
I don't know.|I just know.
Yeah, but how do you know?
I know because I feel it.
- Because that's a really|serious thing you're saying.|- I know.
You could be in California|next week...
and you might find out|something about me you don't like.
Maybe you wish|you hadn't said that,
but you know it's such a serious thing|you can't take it back.
Now I'm stuck in California with someone|that doesn't really want to be with me,
- just wish they had a take-back.|- A what? What's a take-back?
I don't want a take-back. I just want|you to come to California with me.
Well, I can't go to|California with you, so--
Why not?
Well, one, because|I got a job here.
And, two,|because I live here.
Look, um, if you don't love me,|you should just tell me.
I'm not sayin'|I don't love you.
Then why? Why won't you come?|What are you so scared of?
What am I so scared of?
Well, what aren't|you scared of?
You live in this safe little world|where no one challenges you--
Don't tell me about my world.|Don't tell me about my world.
You just want to have|your little fling with the guy|from the other side of town.
Then you're gonna go off to Stanford.|You're gonna marry some rich prick...
who your parents|will approve of...
and just sit around with|the other trust fund babies...
and talk about how you|went slummin', too, once.
Why are you saying this?|What is your obsession with this money?
My father died when I was 13,|and I inherited this money.
You don't think every day I wake up,|and I wish I could give it back.
That I would give it back|in a second if it meant I could|have one more day with him.
But I can't, and that's|my life, and I deal with it.
So don't put your shit on me|when you're the one that's afraid.
I'm afraid? What am I afraid of?|What the fuck am I afraid of?
You're afraid of me. You're afraid|that I won't love you back.
You know what?|I'm afraid too.
But fuck it, I want to give it a shot.|At least I'm honest with you.
- I'm not honest with you?|- No, what about your 12 brothers?
All right.
No, you're not going.|You're not leaving.
What do you want to know?|That I don't have 12 brothers?|That I'm a fuckin' orphan?
- You don't want to hear that.|- I didn't know that.
You don't want to hear|I got fuckin' cigarettes|put out on me when I was little.
- I didn't know that.|- That this isn't fuckin' surgery.
The motherfucker stabbed me. You don't|want to hear that shit, Skylar!
- I do want to hear that.|- Don't tell me you want that shit!
- I want to help you.|- Help me? What the fuck?
What do I got, a fuckin' sign|on my back that says, "Save me"?
- No.|- Do I look like I need that?
- No, I just want to be with you--|- Don't bullshit me!
- I love you.|- Don't bullshit me!|Don't you fuckin' bullshit me!
I love you.
I want to hear you say|that you don't love me.
Because if you say that...
then I won't call you...
and I won't be in your life.
I don't love you.
Most people never get to see|how brilliant they can be.
They don't find teachers|that believe in them.
They get convinced|they're stupid.
I hope you appreciate|what he's doing,
because I've seen how much|he enjoys working with you,
not against you.
Hello, Will.
Tom, can you get us|some coffee?
Sure.
Now, let's see.
Good. This is correct.
I see you used Maclaurin here.
Yeah, I don't know what|you call it, but--
This can't be right.
This would be|very embarrassing.
- Did you ever consider--|- I'm pretty sure it's right.
Hey, look, can we do this|at Sean's office from now on?
Because I got to knock off work to come|here and the commute is killin' me.
- Yeah, sure. Did you think|of the possibility--|- That's right.
It's right.|Just take it home with you.
What happened|at the McNeil meeting?
I couldn't go.|I had a date.
So I sent my|chief negotiator.
On your own time, you can do|whatever you like, Will.
But when I set up a meeting|with my associates,
and you don't show up,|it reflects poorly on me.
- Then don't set up any more meetings.|- I won't.
I'll cancel 'em.
I'll give you a job myself. I just|wanted you to see what was out there.
Maybe I don't want to spend|the rest of my fuckin' life|explainin' shit to people.
I think you could show me|some appreciation.
A little appreciation?|Do you know how easy this is for me?
Do you have any fuckin' idea how easy|this is? This is a fuckin' joke.
I'm sorry you can't do this--|I really am--
Because I wouldn't have to|fuckin' sit here and watch you|fumble around and fuck it up.
Then you'd have more time to sit around|and get drunk instead, wouldn't you?
You're right. This is probably|a total waste of my time.
You're right, Will.
I can't do this proof,|but you can.
And when it comes to that,|it's only about just a handful|of people in the world...
who can tell the difference|between you and me.
- But I'm one of them.|- Sorry.
Yeah, so am l.
Most days I wish|I never met you,
because then I could|sleep at night.
I didn't have to walk around|with the knowledge that there|was someone like you out there.
I didn't have to watch you|throw it all away.
Bill, hold it. Did you hear that?
Morgan!
If you're watchin' pornos in|my mom's room again, I'm gonna|give you a fuckin' beatin'!
What's up, fellas?
Morgan, why don't you jerk off|in your own fuckin' house.|That's fuckin' filthy.
I don't have a V.C.R.|in my house.
Come on. Not in my glove.
I didn't use the glove.
That's my|Little League glove.
What do you want me|to do?
I mean, what's wrong|with you?
You'll hump|a baseball glove?
l-l just used it|for cleanup.
Stop jerkin' off in my mother's room.
- Is there another V.C.R. in the house?|- It's just sad, bro.
So why do you think I should work|for the National Security Agency?
Well, you'd be working|on the cutting edge.
You'd be exposed to|the kind of technology|you wouldn't see anywhere else,
because we've classified it.
Superstring theory,|chaos math, advanced algorithms.
Code breaking.
That's one aspect|of what we do.
Oh, come on.|That is what you do.
You guys handle 80% of|the intelligence workload.
You're seven times|the size of the C.I.A.
We don't like to brag about that, Will,|but you're exactly right.
So the way I see it,|the question isn't:
"Why should you work|for the N.S.A.?"
The question is:|"Why shouldn't you?"
Why shouldn't|I work for the N.S.A.?
That's a tough one,|but I'll take a shot.
Say I'm workin' at the N.S.A.|and somebody puts a code on my desk.
Something no one else|can break.
Maybe I take a shot at it|and maybe I break it.
I'm real happy with myself|because I did my job well.
But maybe that code was|the location of some rebel army|in North Africa or Middle East.
Once they have that location, they bomb|the village where the rebels are hidin'.
Fifteen hundred people that I never met,|never had no problem with, get killed.
Now the politicians are saying, "Send in|the Marines to secure the area,"
'cause they don't give a shit.
It won't be their kid|over there gettin' shot,
just like it wasn't them when|their number got called 'cause|they were in the National Guard.
It'll be some kid from Southie|over there takin' shrapnel in the ass.
He comes back to find the plant|he used to work at...
got exported to the country|he got back from,
and the guy who put the shrapnel|in his ass got his old job...
'cause he'll work for 15 cents|a day and no bathroom breaks.
Meanwhile, he realizes the only reason|he was over there in the first place...
was so we could install a government|that would sell us oil at a good price.
Of course, the oil companies|used a skirmish over there|to scare up domestic oil prices.
A cute little ancillary benefit|for them, but it ain't helpin'|my buddy at 2.50 a gallon.
They're takin' their sweet time|bringin' the oil, of course.
Maybe they even took the liberty|to hire an alcoholic skipper,
who likes to drink martinis and fuckin'|play slalom with the icebergs.
It ain't too long till|he hits one, spills the oil...
and kills all the sea life|in the North Atlantic.
So now my buddy's out of work,|he can't afford to drive,
so he's walkin' to|the fuckin' job interviews...
which sucks because the shrapnel in his|ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids.
Meanwhile, he's starvin', 'cause every|time he tries to get a bite to eat,
the only blue plate special|they're servin'...
is North Atlantic scrod|with Quaker State.
So what did I think?|I'm holdin' out for somethin' better.
I figure, fuck it. While I'm at it,|why not just shoot my buddy,
take his job,|give it to his sworn enemy,
hike up gas prices, bomb|a village, club a baby seal,
hit the hash pipe|and join the National Guard?
I can be|elected president.
- You feel like you're alone?|- What?
Do you have a soul mate?
Do I have a--|Define that.
Somebody who challenges you.
- Uh, Chuckie.|- No, Chuckie's family. He'd lie|down in fuckin' traffic for you.
I'm talking about someone who opens|up things for you, touches your soul.
- I got-- I got--|- Who?
- I got plenty.|- Well, name 'em.
Shakespeare, Nietzsche, Frost,|O'Connor, Kant, Pope, Locke--
That's great.|They're all dead.
- Not to me they're not.|- You don't have|a lot of dialogue with them.
You can't give back|to them, Will.
- Not without some serious|smelling salts and a heater.|- That's what I'm saying.
You'll never have that kind|of relationship in a world...
where you're always afraid|to take the first step,
because all you see is every|negative thing ten miles down the road.
- You gonna take the|professor's side on this?|- Don't give me a line of shit.
- No.|- I didn't want the job.
It's not about the job. I don't care|if you work for the government.
But you can do anything you want.|You are bound by nothing.
What are you passionate about?|What do you want?
There are guys who work|their entire life layin' brick...
so their kids have a chance|at the opportunities you have here.
- I didn't ask for this.|- No.
You were born with it, so don't cop out|behind: "l didn't ask for this."
- What do you mean, cop out?|What's wrong with layin' brick?|- Nothing.
There's nothin' wrong.|That's somebody's home I'm buildin'.
Right. My dad|laid brick, okay?
Busted his ass so|I could have an education.
Exactly. That's|an honorable profession.
What's wrong with|fixin' somebody's car?
Someone will get to work the next day|because of me. That's honor in that.
Yeah, there is, Will.|There is honor in that.
There's honor in takin'|that 40-minute train ride...
so those college kids could come in in|the morning and their floors are clean.
- And their wastebaskets|are empty. That's real work.|- That's right.
And that's honorable. I'm sure|that's why you took that job.
I mean, for the honor of it.
I just have a little question here.|You could be a janitor anywhere.
Why did you work at the most|prestigious technical college|in the whole fuckin' world?
Why did you sneak around at night|and finish other people's formulas...
that only one or two people in the world|could do and then lie about it?
'Cause I don't see|a lot of honor in that, Will.
So what do you|really wanna do?
I wanna be a shepherd.
Really?
I wanna move up to Nashua,|get a nice little spread,|get some sheep and tend to them.
- Maybe you should go do that.|- What?
You know, if you're gonna|jerk off, why don't you just do|it at home with a moist towel?
- You're chuckin' me?|- Yeah, get the fuck outta here.
- No, no, no, time's not up yet.|- Yeah, it is.
- I'm not leavin'. No.|- You're not gonna answer,|you're wastin' my time.
I thought we were friends.
- Playtime's over, okay?|- Why are you kickin' me out?
You're lecturin' me on life?|Look at you, you fuckin' burnout.
- What winds your clock?|- Workin' with you.
Where's your soul mate? You wanna|talk about soul mates? Where is she?
- Dead.|- That's right. She's fuckin' dead.
She fuckin' dies and you just cash in|your chips and you walk away?
- At least I played a hand.|- You played a hand and you lost.|You lost a big fuckin' hand.
Some people will lose a big hand like|that and have the sack to ante up again.
Look at me.|What do you wanna do?
You and your bullshit.|You got a bullshit answer for everybody.
But I ask you a very simple question and|you can't give me a straight answer,
because you don't know.
I'll see ya, Bo-peep.
- Fuck you.|- You're the shepherd.
Shepherd.
White little prick.
I just wanted to,|you know, um,
call you up,|uh, before you left, um--
I've been takin' all these|jobs interviews and stuff,
so I'm not gonna be just|a construction worker.
Well, you know, I never|really cared about that.
Yeah.
I love you.
Will?
You take care.
# Someone's always|comin' around here #
- # Trailin' some new kill #|- Bye.
# Says, I seen your picture|on a #
# Hundred-dollar bill #
# What's a game of chance|to you #
# In this world #
# Of real skill #
# So glad to meet ya #
# Angeles #
# Pickin' up the ticket|shows there's money to be made #
# Go on, lose the gamble #
# That's the history|of the trade #
# Did you add up|all the cards left to play #
# To zero #
# And sign up with people #
# Angeles #
# Don't start with me|tryin' #
Will, come on.|Will!
Will, that's it!|We're done!
I'm sitting in your office|and the boy isn't here.
Well, it's ten past 5:00.
An hour and|ten minutes late.
# I can make you satisfied|in everything #
Well, if he doesn't show up and I file|a report saying he wasn't here...
and he goes back to jail,|he won't be on my conscience.
# Now be coming true ##
Okay. Fine.
What's up?
Thanks.
Ah! God, that's good.
So how's your lady?
Ah, she's gone.
Gone? Gone where?
Med school.|Medical school in California.
- Really?|- Yeah.
- When was this?|- It was, like, a week ago.
That sucks.
So, uh, when are you done|with those meetings?
I think the week|after I'm 21.
They gonna hook ya up|with a job or what?
Yeah, fuckin' sit in a room and do|long division for the next 50 years.
Nah, probably make|some nice bank though.
I'm gonna be|a fuckin' lab rat.
Better than this shit.|Way outta here.
What do I want a way|outta here for?
I mean, I'm gonna fuckin'|live here the rest of my life.
You know, be neighbors.|You know, have little kids.
Fuckin' take 'em to Little League|together up Foley Field.
Look, you're my best friend,|so don't take this the wrong way.
But in 20 years if|you're still livin' here,
comin' over to my house|to watch the Patriots games,
still workin' construction,|I'll fuckin' kill ya.
That's not a threat. That's a fact.|I'll fuckin' kill ya.
What the fuck|are you talkin' about?
- Look, you got something|none of us have.|- Oh, come on!
Why is it always this? I fuckin'|owe it to myself to do this or that.
- What if I don't want to?|- No, no, no. Fuck you.|You don't owe it to yourself.
You owe it to me,
'cause tomorrow I'm gonna|wake up and I'll be 50,
and I'll still|be doin' this shit.
That's all right.|That's fine.
I mean, you're sittin' on|a winnin' lottery ticket.
You're too much of a pussy|to cash it in, and that's bullshit.
'Cause I'd do fuckin' anything|to have what you got.
So would any of|these fuckin' guys.
Be an insult to us|if you're still here in 20 years.
Hangin' around here|is a fuckin' waste of your time.
- You don't know that.|- I don't?
- No. You don't know that.|- Oh, I don't know that.|Let me tell you what I do know.
Every day I come by your house,|and I pick you up.
We go out and have a few drinks|and few laughs, and it's great.
You know what the|best part of my day is?
It's for about ten seconds:|from when I pull up to the curb|and when I get to your door.
'Cause I think maybe I'll|get up there and I'll knock on|the door and you won't be there.
No "good-bye," no "see ya later."|No nothing. You just left.
I don't know much,|but I know that.
This is a disaster, Sean.
I brought you in here because|I wanted you to help me with the boy,
- not to run him out.|- I know what I'm doing with the boy.
I don't care if you have|a rapport with the boy!
I don't care if you have a few laughs,|even at my expense.
- But don't you dare undermine|what I'm trying to do here.|- Undermine?
This boy is at|a fragile point right now.
I do understand. He is at|a fragile point. He's got problems.
What problems does he have? That he's|better off as a janitor, in jail?
Better hanging out with|a bunch of retarded gorillas?
Why do you think he does that?|You have any fuckin' clue why?
He can handle the problems.|He can handle the work.|He obviously handled you.
Listen to me.|Why is he hiding?
Why doesn't|he trust anybody?
Because the first thing|that happened to him,
he was abandoned by the people|who were supposed to love him the most.
Don't give me|that Freudian crap.
Why does he hang out with those|retarded gorillas, as you call them?
Because any one of them, if he asked|them to, would take a bat to your head.
- That's called loyalty.|- Yeah, that's very touching.
Who's he handling?|He pushes people away before|they have a chance to leave him.
It's a defense mechanism,|all right?
For 20 years, he's been|alone because of that.
If you push him right now, it's gonna|be the same thing all over again.
I'm not gonna|let that happen to him.
- Don't you do that.|- What?
Don't infect him with the idea|that it's okay to quit, that|it's okay to be a failure.
Because it's not okay, Sean!
And if you're angry at me|for being successful, for|being what you could have been--
- I'm not angry at you.|- Oh, yes, you're angry at me.
You resent me, but I'm not gonna|apologize for any success I've had.
You're angry at me for doing|what you could have done!
But ask yourself, Sean--|Ask yourself...
if you want Will to feel that way--|if you want him to feel like a failure?
You arrogant shit!
That's why I don't come to the|goddamn reunions, 'cause I can't|stand that look in your eye.
- That condescending, embarrassed look.|- Oh, come on, Sean.
You think I'm a failure.|I know who I am.
I'm proud of what I do. It was|a conscious choice. I didn't fuck up!
And you and your cronies think|I'm some sort of pity case.
You and your kiss-ass chorus following|you around going, "The Field's medal!"
Why are you still so|fuckin' afraid of failure?
It's about my medal, isn't it?|Oh, God, I could go home and get|it for you. You can have it.
Shove the medal up|your fuckin' ass, all right?
'Cause I don't give|a shit about your medal,
because I knew you before|you were a mathematical god,
when you were pimple-faced|and homesick and didn't know|what side of the bed to piss on.
Yeah, you were smarter than me then|and you're smarter than me now.
So don't blame me for|how your life turned out.
I don't blame you!|It's not about you!
You mathematical dick!|It's about the boy!
He's a good kid! And I won't|see you fuck him up like you're|tryin' to fuck up me right now.
I won't see you make him|feel like a failure too!
-He won't be a failure!|-But if you push him! If you ride him!
I am what I am today|because I was pushed and because|I learned to push myself.
He's not you!|You get that!
I can come back.
No, come in.|Uh, I was just leaving.
A lot of that stuff goes back|a long way between me and him.
You know. Not about you.
What is that?
This is your file. I have to send it|back to the judge for evaluation.
Oh. Hey, you're not|gonna fail me, are you?
What's it say?
- Wanna read it?|- Why?
Have you had any, uh,|experience with that?
Twenty years of counseling.|Yeah, I've seen some pretty awful shit.
I mean, have you had|any experience with that?
- Personally?|- Yeah.
Yeah, I have.
It sure ain't good.
My father was an alcoholic.
Mean fuckin' drunk.
He'd come home hammered,|lookin' to whale on somebody.
So I'd provoke him so he wouldn't go|after my mother and little brother.
Interesting nights|when he wore his rings.
He used to just|put a wrench,
a stick and a belt|on the table.
- Just say, "Choose."|- Well, I gotta go with the belt there.
I used to go with the wrench.
Why the wrench?
'Cause fuck him, that's why.
- Your foster father?|- Yeah.
So, uh, what is it, like,|Will has an attachment disorder?
Is it all that stuff?
Fear of abandonment?
Is that why I broke up|with Skylar?
- I didn't know you had.|- Yeah, I did.
- You wanna talk about it?|- No.
Hey, Will,|I don't know a lot.
You see this?|All this shit?
It's not your fault.
Yeah, I know that.
Look at me, son.
- It's not your fault.|- I know.
No. It's not|your fault.
I know.
No, no, you don't.|It's not your fault.
- Hmm?|- I know.
- It's not your fault.|- All right.
It's not your fault.
- It's not your fault.|- Don't fuck with me.
It's not your fault.
Don't fuck with me, all right?|Don't fuck with me, Sean, not you.
It's not your fault.
It's not your fault.
My God--
My God! I'm so sorry!|My God!
Fuck them, okay?
- Can I help you?|- Yeah, I'm Will Hunting.|I'm here about a position.
Could you just have|a seat for a moment?
Yes, there's|a Mr. Hunting in the lobby.
Which one did you take?
I was over at McNeil. It's one of|the jobs the professor set me up with.
I haven't told him yet, but I went|down there and talked to my boss--
My new boss.|He seemed like a good guy.
- Is that what you want?|- Yeah, you know, I think so.
Well, good for you.|Congratulations.
Thanks.
Time's up.
So that's-- So that's it?|So we're done?
Yeah, that's it.
You're done.|You're a free man.
Well, um, I just want you|to know, Sean, that--
You're welcome, Will.
So, you know, I hope|we keep in touch, you know.
Yeah, me too.
I'll be travelin' around a bit.|It'll be a little hard, but, uh--
I've got an answering machine at|the college I'll be checking in with.
So, here's the number.
You call that.|I'll get back to you right away.
Yeah, you know,|I figured I'm just gonna...
put my money back on the table|and see what kind of cards I get.
You do what's in your heart,|son. You'll be fine.
- Thank you, Sean.|- Uh--
Thank you, Will.
Hey, does this violate|the patient-doctor relationship?
Naw. Only if you|grab my ass.
- Take care.|- You too.
Yeah.
Hey.
Good luck, son.
Two beers.
What's up?|Did you guys go?
No. I had to talk him down.
- Why didn't you yoke him?|- Little Morgan's|got a lot of scrap to him.
People try to whip|his ass every week.
- Fuckin' kid won't back down.|- What are you sayin' about me?
Was I talkin' to you?|None of your fuckin' business.
- Go get me a beer.|- I ordered two beers!
- Hey, asshole.|- What, bitch?
-Happy birthday.|-Thought we forgot, huh, bitch?
- Come on!|- I'm goin'. I'm goin'.
All right. Who's first?
- Come on, motherfucker!|- Who's first?
# Oh, Danny boy ##
Here's your present.
- Come on, bro.|- What?
Well, we knew you had to get back and|forth to Cambridge for your new job.
I knew I wasn't gonna fuckin'|drive you every day, so--
- Morgan wanted to get you a "T" pass.|- That's not what I was sayin'!
But, uh, you're 21 now.
You're legally allowed to drink, so we|figured the best thing for ya was a car.
- How do you like it?|- This is like--
It's the ugliest fuckin' car|I've ever seen in my life.
- Come on, brother.|- How'd you guys do this?
You know, me and Bill|scraped together the parts,
and Morgan was out panhandlin'|for change every day.
I had the router to do|all the bodywork.
Yeah, I have a fuckin' job,|too, brother.
Guy's been up my ass for|two years about a job. I had|to let him help with the car.
So you finally got a job,|huh, Morgan?
- Yeah, had one. Now I'm fucked again.|- So what is it?
- A lawn mower? What do ya got?|- It's a straight fuckin' six.
Me and Bill rebuilt|this engine ourselves here.
It's a good car.|The engine's good. Engine's good.
- Happy 21, Will.|- Happy 21, brother.
Hi.
Come on in.
Sean, l, um--
Me too, Gerry.
Yeah. Good.
I heard you're|takin' some time.
Yeah. Travel a little bit,|maybe write.
So where are you going?
India and China|and Baltimore.
Oh.
You know when|you'll be back?
Oh. I got this flyer|the other day.
It says, uh, class of '72|is having a reunion in six months.
Yeah, I got|one of those too.
Why don't you come?|I'll buy ya a drink.
The drinks at|those things are free.
I know, Gerry.|I was being ironical.
- Oh.|- How about a drink right now?
Yeah. It's a good idea.
Come on.|This one's on me.
- I got the winner right here, pal.|- Oh!
Yes, sir, this is the one.
This is my ticket|to paradise.
Do you know what the odds|are against winning the lottery?
- What? Four to one?|- About 30 million to one.
I still have a shot, you know?
Yes, just about as big chance|as you being hit by lightning|here on the staircase right now.
It's a possibility too. I mean,|32 million. If you look at the size--
Will!
Will?
He's not there.
# I'll fake it|through the day #
Sean, if|the professor calls about that job,
just tell him sorry,|I had to go see about a girl.
Will.
Son of a bitch.|He stole my line.