01x05 - The Nose

[bunniefuu]

No, you can't make me go!

- Get dressed.

- No!

- Now!

- No!

Just put it on!

Oh, my God! You're acting

like such a f*cking

Frankie, uh

Rae! God God God damn it!

It's a little early

for all the screaming, isn't it?

We need a tranquilizer g*n.

The kind for large animals.

Rae, I swear to God, I'm

Could you tell our daughter

that she's going to school?

- You're going to school.

- I'm not going to school

because she ruined school!

I hate it there. Everyone's horrible.

And it's all your fault.

Why is everything in this family my fault?

Because you f*ck everything up!

Do not speak to me like that!

Don't talk to me like that!

Okay, okay, enough.

Enough, all right?

Rae, you're going to school. Go get dressed.

- Thank you!

- Fine. Fine! Okay.

Then I'm gonna transfer to Douglass.

No, you're not. Douglass sucks.

Okay. I went to Douglass, all right?

Yeah, you're the one

who told me that it sucks.

Wow. Well, White feminism strikes again!

Sorry, what exactly is so wrong

about a predominantly Black

public high school, Mom?

We chose St. Anne's

because we wanted you

to go to a good college.

I don't care about college!

I'm not even going to college!

- Whoa, Rae!

- Wait, whoa!

What are you saying right now?

Nobody's listening to me!

Yes, I am listening to you.

That's why I just said,

"What are you saying?"

If you don't let me transfer,

then I'm going to drop out!

That's enough!

You're not dropping out.

You're late. Go get dressed.

This is done.

- Hey.

- Don't touch me!

Hey!

Listen to me.

You are finishing high school,

and then you are going to go to college

because that is what you are going to do.

Okay?

Mm-hmm? Well, Dad, he didn't finish college.

And he regrets it.

What? Neither did you.

What?

- You dropped out of college.

- No.

Just get your f*cking backpack

and get dressed for school now.

Go!

Oh, my God.

I'm sorry.

Hey.

Thank you! Jesus!

Okay.

What is this?

I know you don't think

you'll walk away.

Bring your ass back here, Rae!

What the hell is this?

A nose mug. I made it in Ceramics.

Why would you make this?

Because I was gonna

give it to you for Mother's Day.

She's just so sad.

What do you say?

"Sorry your mom d*ed"?

Yeah.

'Sup.

What?

You look really familiar.

Did we bang at a Dead show or something?

I'd rather die than go to a Dead show.

All right, everyone.

Welcome to Advanced World Fiction.

I know that the final quarter

can be a little bit of a drag,

but over the next nine weeks,

we're gonna be having

some good old literary fun.

We're gonna be reading The Nose by Gogol,

The Autumn of the Patriarch by Márquez,

and a number of stories

by Guy de Maupassant.

So, you do anything cool over spring break?

Climbed Machu Picchu.

Oh, boy.

What happened?

I'm not going back.

I'm done with school.

People are mean and horrible and mean!

People can be. It's true.

But you love school.

And how will you be the next

Eudora Welty without it?

Well, maybe I'll just be

a waitress like you.

I don't think you have the patience

to handle the lunch rush.

Hey.

You can't let the worst things

that happen to you

stop you from getting what you want.

And if you do,

that is nobody's fault but yours.

Sorry.

S Sorry.

- Hey Hey!

- What?

- Hey.

- What?

You, uh, you forgot this.

Okay. Thank you.

Do you wanna go get a drink or something?

We went to junior high together, Eric.

And you terrorized me. So, yeah, no.

You You can't get high in here.

I mean, this is our home.

- It's, uh

- What's wrong?

Your brother.

He says he's not going back to school.

And

he he says he's not going back home.

Okay, you can't do that in here.

What do you mean

you're not going back to school?

Your narc husband say that?

Oh, Jesus!

You don't need

to go back to school tomorrow,

but you do need to go back.

Um, we just buried Mom three days ago, so

excuse me for not giving a sh*t

about high school right now.

I haven't been in a month anyway.

Mom would want you to graduate.

She'd want both of us to.

Well, Mom's not f*cking here.

Mom!

Mom! Mom!

What is it? What's wrong? What's wrong?

- No.

- Yes.

Yeah. Yes. Yes.

Lucas, your sister got in!

Mom, you don't have to do this.

We're not little kids anymore.

You are the first person

in this family to go to college.

Of course, that calls

for a fancy-lady dinner.

Your drinks, Mademoiselle, Monsieur.

Mom, how are we gonna pay for all this

when we can't even afford real Kool-Aid?

That's what loans are for, dumb-ass.

And grants and scholarships.

And you got some of those too.

I wanna hear the letter again.

"Dear Clare, congratulations.

I'm honored to share this news with you."

Blah, blah, blah, I guess we'll accept you.

Oh, did you see this thing at the bottom?

"Parents of students may enroll in classes

for no additional charge."

Wait, what?

For free?

I've always wanted to go to college.

Okay, but you're not gonna go with me.

No. No.

- No.

- No.

No.

Okay.

Do you remember the rules?

- We don't know each other.

- Yes.

- And if you see me

- I ignore you.

Except if I talk to you fir

Like, if I talk to you first,

- then you can talk to me.

- Mm.

But if not, your gaze shall

Just stop looking at me. Stop staring at me.

Okay. Okay. Yes. Yes.

Your gaze shall not linger on me.

Yes, Your Highness.

You're a stranger to me.

- Okay.

- Strangers. It's a deal.

- Seriously.

- Yeah.

Right now You can be my mom right now.

- I love you, Mom.

- I love you.

Excuse me?

Mom?

- Oh!

- Jesus! f*ck!

Pierce.

Have you se Have you seen a woman?

Like Like, mom-aged?

Woman like mom-aged? Uh no. No.

Hey, so "terrorized."

Yeah, that's that's a

It's a bit over dramatic, don't you think?

What?

You said I terrorized you in junior high.

Yeah. Yeah, Eric, you did.

You made my life a living hell.

Yeah, it was

Not that I

knew what hell was. Um

I have a paper to write.

Hey. f*ck your paper!

f*ck you!

Is that what you want?

Harder.

I might need the bottle.

Sure. You'll have to pry it

from your brother's underage hands first.

Have you read this story called The Nose?

- No.

- Mm.

It It's about this

guy whose nose walks away from his face.

It's like I just How am I

supposed to write

five pages on this crap?

Come on, didn't you just finish

a 20-page paper last week

about the s sublime

subversiveness of something?

- It's just It's different, so.

- No.

One more month,

then you are free. Hm?

A college graduate. Hm.

Yeah.

Magna cum laude.

How's that?

Does that feel good?

Stop.

- Stop. Stop!

- I'm s sorry. Sorry.

I just

- Sorry.

- No. Just

Okay. So what are we to make

of what Gogol is trying to say

with this story?

And literary critics have been

divided a century over this.

Probably 'cause it's bullshit.

What was that?

Oh, man.

Nothing. Nothing.

No.

No, you said it was bullshit.

Why?

Some guy's nose walks off his face one day

and goes out, has a rager,

and we're expected to

To believe that this thing

that is impossible,

that it's actually supposed

to mean something? Um

Well, some would say that it's an allegory

for male sexual impotence or

Divine immaculate conception.

But perhaps, it's just inviting us

to consider what it would be like

if the impossible became possible.

I'm just sad that we haven't

moved beyond literature

by misogynistic male authors

that can't write about anything

except allegories for their broken dicks.

Like, this this entire semester,

we've only read one one female author!

Well, you didn't have any problem

writing a really fairly

wonderful piece about Márquez.

Márquez is different than Gogol!

Then, I look forward to having

you articulate the differences

between Márquez and Gogol on your paper,

which is required for you to graduate, so.

That's class. Uh, thank you, everyone.

Clare, if you want a little extra time

We all understand

that this is a difficult time.

I don't.

So this is how you spend your life?

Shhh.

Oh, you just made me miss what Monica said.

Um, she was in a coma last week,

but they think that she's gonna

b*at her breast cancer.

Sure,

in just a few short weeks

Good for her.

and vomiting and waking up

having your hair on the pillow

next to you

That's a stupid f*cking

cancer-hero narrative.

Like

Mom d*ed 'cause she didn't wanna

live badly enough?

I like the show.

Just lop off more of my body

just keep going on this whole process

Do you ever think about why,

out of all the people in the world,

Mom had to die while everyone

else just gets to live?

Yeah.

It makes me hate everyone.

And everything.

You wanna get wasted?

f*ck!

- Can we get another one?

- Oh.

- You all right?

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

He's my brother. Who do you think is older?

I think she looks older,

but I look more mature.

What does that even mean?

- Clare? Come on.

- What the f*ck?

- Oh, my God. Sorry. What?

- What the f*ck?

Come on.

Ow! f*ck!

What the f*ck?

Clare, you're

You're married, and then,

now you're just a lesbian or something?

I'm not anything, Lucas.

I'm whatever the f*ck I want to be.

Oh, does Jess know that?

Okay, I'm a terrible person!

Okay?

I cheated on Jess.

She was a chick.

Jess doesn't even have to know about it.

No.

I'm not talking about her.

What?

Do you remember Joel?

From the funeral home?

Yeah, he and I

Before Mom's funeral.

- He and you what?

- We boned.

And then a few weeks ago,

I did the same thing with

this guy who used to bully me

in junior high.

He's a Deadhead now.

What the f*ck?

Uh, Erics Eric Olsen.

Do you remember him?

We did it in the back of his Bronco.

Jesus Christ! Who are you?

You're like Carly on General Hospital.

She fucks everybody.

I can't be good without her.

Um Um, I'll catch up with you guys later.

- Okay.

- Bye.

- Bye.

- Bye.

- Good morning!

- Oh, dear God!

- I brought you some coffee.

- Yeah.

It doesn't make up for it.

You feel good?

- You're gonna k*ll finals.

- Okay.

- Did you sleep here?

- Early test. Too far to drive.

Okay. Go, go, go. I gotta study.

- Okay. Good luck.

- Okay.

- I love you.

- I love you too.

- Bye.

- Bye.

- Don't do that again.

- Bye.

Clare?

Oh, hi. I'm sorry. Just Shhh.

Well, where were you?

- At the library.

- Right.

Ow!

f*ck!

I was trying to finish that paper.

- Yeah?

- You know, the one

that I have to g graduate,

and I just can't f*cking start it.

Are you drunk?

What?

Were you trying to write it drunk?

All writers drink.

It's called

lubrication.

I'm just following

in a grand literary tradition.

Lucas was wasted too.

He came home a couple of hours ago

and he puked all over the bathroom.

Yuck. Sorry.

No. He's in high school, Clare.

He's a kid.

Someone has to look after him.

Yeah, well, he needs his mom.

We need our mom.

Mom?

Mom?

Mom!

Hi, honey.

You know what to do.

Mom, no.

It'll be so quick.

What does it mean to heal?

To move on?

To let go?

What does it mean when the worst

thing that could happen

actually happens?

And it stops you cold in your tracks?

My mother d*ed on a Monday

during spring break of our senior year.

Mine and hers.

After her funeral,

I immediately went back to school

because she begged me to.

To prove her life mattered,

I became determined

to blow up the life I'd begun to build,

the life my mother had wanted for me.

I failed to get my diploma

because I didn't complete a

five-page paper on a short story

about a man who woke up one day

and couldn't find his nose.

I couldn't bring myself to do it

because I thought the story was preposterous

and incomprehensible.

I saw what they're doing for your mom.

I'm so sorry.

I had no idea.

Thanks.

Yeah.

There was no subtext.

It was simply a story

about what it was about

- Uh, thanks. Yeah.

- Yeah.

Okay.

the absurd and arbitrary nature

of disappearance

Finally,

in memory of a gifted student

who left this world far too soon.

our hungry ache

to resurrect what was lost,

and the bald truth that the

impossible can become possible

faster than anyone dreams.

We posthumously honor

Francis "Frankie" Pierce

with a Bachelor of Arts degree in History.

My mother was alive and healthy.

And yet, seven weeks later, she was dead.

Impossible.

I had gone to college,

and my mother had gone to college with me.

Impossible.

I'd earned straight A's,

and yet, I didn't graduate.

But my dead mother did.

Impossible too.

Sometimes a story is not about

anything except

precisely what it is about.

Sometimes you wake up and find

that you actually have lost your nose.

And you have to figure out

how you're gonna live without it.

Congratulations, Class of 1995!

As my mother once said,

"You can't let the worst thing

that happened to you stop you."

"If you do,"

"it's nobody's fault but your own."

Okay, Rae. Rae?

I am calling you Rae, okay?

If you don't wanna do this,

what do you want to do?

I just Can we just go home?

Please?

Okay.

Really?

I want so much for you,

but you're not gonna get any of it

if you don't want it for yourself.

Healing is a small and ordinary thing.

And it's one thing and one thing only.

It's doing the impossible thing

every single day.

Best day every!