Stress Positions (2024)

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Stress Positions (2024)

Post by bunniefuu »

[ Siren wailing in distance ]

-[ Sighs ]

I'm going to talk.

Is that all right?

Are you able to listen

if I talk?

Because if you can't,

then don't.

That's fine.

It doesn't really matter

that much anyway,

it all happened so long ago.

And so much else was going on

around the world, of course,

but that summer, my gay

best friend from college,

Terry Goon,

was getting a divorce.

His husband, Leo, had found

newer, better love elsewhere

and was encouraging

my friend to do the same.

Unfortunately, Terry wasn't

really in a good position

to pursue new love.

First of all,

he had nowhere to live.

He happened to be

staying at that time

in one of Leo's

empty properties,

the one we called

the "Party House,"

for reasons which

are probably best left

unspecified.

Now, I imagine

Terry would have liked

to have been living

somewhere else.

He probably would have liked

to BE somebody else,

but he had no money

and nowhere else to go

and was unfortunately

very frightened of the virus.

Furthermore,

and more importantly,

he had a nephew

to take care of -- his

sister's kid, Bahlul,

the 19-year-old male model

from Morocco

with a badly broken leg.

He'd fallen off his scooter

that March, in the path

of an oncoming ambulance.

Nobody died, thank God,

but he did get run over,

and was very badly injured.

Now, he and Terry

hadn't ever really spoken,

and they weren't close --

but as you might recall,

the hospitals back then

were out of beds,

and Terry was his nearest

living relative.

Taking him in was

the right thing to do,

so Terry did it --

without telling Leo --

and in order that his nephew

wouldn't find him weird,

or creepy,

my friend would have

set about immediately

getting rid of every trace

of his ex-husband

and the parties

he had thrown in that house.

[ Siren wailing in distance ]

-[ Grunting ]

-f*cking f*gg*t...

[ Mutters indistinctly ]

[ Groans ]

[ Grunts ]

God damn it! God --

[ Grunts ]

-Now, Terry wouldn't

let us meet the model.

[ Gate rattling ]

-Ugh!

-And he wouldn't send us

any pictures,

which only made him

more intriguing.

Who was he?

-Bahlul?

-That poor boy

in the basement...

-Bahlul, may I enter?

-Go ahead.

-The, uh -- Ow!

The Internet is out again.

You watching something?

-Just a DVD.

-I'll be quick.

[ Grunting ]

-What kind of a DVD is it?

-I found it in the player.

-One of Leo's?

-Is that bad?

-I'm so sorry to barge in.

-That poor boy must have

been in so much pain.

I wanted to help.

I am a trained professional.

But I was stuck in Greenpoint

with my partner,

Vanessa Ravel,

a major lesbian

and minor talent,

author of a minor work which

paid for this apartment.

Since that work was based

entirely on my life

and written in my voice

without permission,

I believe it's only fair

that I live here for free.

Of course, nothing's free.

She's vegan.

Everything we eat is vegan.

Nothing's free.

But in the meantime,

I get by, and do my best

to help her out

around the house

while she struggles

to write her follow-up.

-Would you check it now?

[ Beep ]

Ugh.

Okay. Mask on.

I'll go get her.

[ Screen clatters ]

Ow! God damn it.

-The Party House

was really just a shit hole.

Leo always meant to flip it,

but it came in handy

as a place to cheat on Terry.

-Coco?

The Internet is out again.

Come help.

[ Sirens wailing in distance ]

-Coco came with the building.

-Please?

Thank you, Coco.

Leo? Hi, Hamadou.

Is he around?

Thank you.

Hi, Leo.

Yes, I have received

the paperwork.

No, I have not signed

them yet.

Because I need to read

through them first.

Sean is your lawyer.

[ Bell dings ]

Hold on!

All clear! Leo,

this is intolerable.

I'm trying to work.

I'm trying to GET work.

I did reboot.

Coco, you can come down now.

Pull that up, please.

Pull that up, please.

[ Doorbell rings ]

One second, Leo.

Hello?

-Delivery for Terry Goon.

-Stand by.

Wallet...Wallet...

-Of course, it was no

paradise, that Party House.

But it was free.

And free was all

poor Terry could afford

with what he'd saved.

-Hi.

I couldn't find my wallet.

For you.

-Oh. Thanks.

-Be safe out there.

-You, too.

-Soon, Terry would be

on the street

like everybody else,

looking for work.

Which wasn't quite the

outcome he'd envisioned

when he married Leo.

But he was employable.

I mean, he'd never had a job.

He'd had an internship

right after college.

Then he married his boss...

-Leo, I'm putting you

on speaker.

-...and quit.

But Leo didn't quit.

And there were other interns.

-Hot guy?

-Who?

-Delivery guy.

Is he your type of guy?

Is he a hot guy?

-I don't notice these

things, Leo.

-Well, what did he look like?

Did he have a nice ass?

-You're such a f*cking pig.

-You were so friendly.

-I felt bad for him.

-What?

-I felt bad for him.

-What?

-I felt bad for him!

-Well, if you love him

so much, why don't you

invite him in?

-Even if I wanted

to, he's gone.

-So chase him down.

-Why don't you chase him down,

Leo? Marry him next.

-You know I would!

But Hamadou and I

are in Berlin right now,

and we're having

so much f*cking fun.

-Oh, are you?

-Baby, don't we love Berlin?

-Oh yeah, ha ha,

sorry, Terry.

-I'm on speaker?

-Nein!

-Take me off speaker, please.

-Hey, you put me on speaker.

-I'm alone.

-Yeah, right.

-I am alone, Leo.

You left me all alone.

-You're not alone,

you little freak.

When do I get to meet him?

-Who?

-Your little boyfriend.

-I'm not seeing

the delivery boy.

-Yeah, no shit.

The other one.

-The other who?

-The other one. The model.

The fashion model...?

With the funny name? Balala?

Hello? Karla said you had

a little brown kid

in the basement

with a broken leg. When were

you going to tell me, Terry?

Or did you forget

we're married?

-That's disgusting, Leo.

He's my nephew,

and he's very badly injured.

I don't --

[ Pots clang, crowd cheering ]

I didn't think you'd care.

He's not on Instagram.

[ Pots clanging ]

-Should I go blond?

-If you're gonna do it, do it.

-We look too much alike.

-We don't.

-Call from...Terry Goon.

-No.

-Answer. Hi, Terry.

-"Little brown kid"?

I'm working.

-Go work in your room.

-Am I on speaker?

-What's that, Terry?

Little what?

-Take me off speaker, please.

-You're not on speaker.

-Okay, Karla, did you say to

Leo, of Bahlul, that he was

a, quote, "little brown kid

in my basement"?

-[ Burps ]

Who would say such a thing?

-You would.

-Who's there?

-Hi, Terry.

-I would never say

a thing like that.

-Oh, was it your twin?

-I'm still on speaker?

-And anyway,

isn't it kind of true?

-Take me off speaker, please.

-Terry, first of all,

I never speak to Leo.

-Okay, well, Leo said you

said that I had, quote,

"gone out

and found a little brown kid

of my own and

stashed him in my basement."

-Oh my God.

-Stop it! Stop it! Both of

you, give me a break here.

-I am not offended, Karla.

I just want to tell you

that's a very ugly thing

for you to think, or say,

especially to Leo,

who's excited now

and wants to meet him.

-Terry, we all want to

meet him!

-Karla, I'm signing off.

I have to feed Bahlul

his dinner.

[ Sniffing ]

What's on fire?

Coco, what the hell?

Mask, please.

For you.

-But she fixed it.

-Mask, Coco!

-But she fixed it,

Uncle Terry.

Coco fixed the Internet.

Thank you. Coco.

Say thank you, Coco.

-Thank you, Coco.

Out you go. Out you go.

Did she say anything weird

about you being Muslim?

-No.

-Good.

Let's get you cleaned up.

-First, Leo runs off with

a kid named "Hamadou,"

a model,

and now Terry is living with

another model named "Bahlul"

in Leo's house?

That's quite a rebound,

don't you think?

-"Little brown kid"?

-Hey, if I said it,

which I didn't, what should

I have called them then,

according to you?

What is the proper term?

-It wouldn't have occurred to

me to make that observation.

-Oh, come on.

Ha! Of course it would have.

-I'm going for a walk.

-To where? To Jeannie's?

-I don't know.

-Well, when you get

to Jeannie Koletzko's,

why don't you tell her

that your girlfriend

who was born a man says hi!

-Call from...Terry Goon.

-Ignore.

-Hello?

-Yeah, hi, Terry.

I'll go k*ll myself.

Is that what everybody wants?

-I'm not sleeping with him.

He's my nephew.

-Who said you were

sleeping with him?

-You did.

-Leo made that inference

because you hadn't

told him anything.

-So you had to tell him?

-I assumed he knew!

-Well, now he does,

and he's excited.

-Can you blame him?

-What is so exciting

about models?

-First of all,

they're very attractive.

-He's my nephew,

and he's very badly injured!

-That kid needs Axial Release.

-No, Karla! We're isolating!

-Come on, Terry, I can help!

-I have to go ride the bike

before bed.

-Well, don't fall off.

[ Call ends ]

-I found a strange film

down here in the basement.

Is that my mother?

Is that me?

Riding the boat with her

to Uncle Terry's wedding?

Little Bahlul by her side,

keeping his mother company?

She's only onscreen

for a split second.

But the more times

I watch it, the longer

that second gets.

I see the whole day

in that second.

Her whole life.

10 years before the wedding,

she had gone abroad

to Amsterdam

to get away

from everything she hated.

But she hated Amsterdam.

And hated Brussels.

Hated Paris. Hated Nice.

Madrid, she tolerated.

Cordoba, she liked.

A man there said,

why not go further south?

An hour's ferry ride

across the strait,

and you'll be out of Europe

on another continent

and in another world.

She didn't know a thing

about Morocco or Tangier.

But she took his advice.

She liked him.

And before she knew it,

she'd arrived.





She picked a man at random.



"Look," she said,

"I want to see the world.

I'm trying to have

an authentic experience.

I want to know

if you can help me.

I can pay you.

I'd be glad to pay you.

Just be sure

to take me somewhere

without any tourists."

He may not have understood

exactly what she meant,

but he agreed.

That man, my father,

whom she would later marry

and divorce.

But if it hadn't been him,

she'd have found

somebody else.



[ Doorbell buzzes ]



-Vanessa? Apartment 2?

-Is it lamb on rice?

-Yep.

-You know, in Greece,

we have a dish

that's very similar to this,

but it's, um, not over rice.

It's actually

over something else.

But I don't remember.

But it's Greek. And it's good.

And it's Greek.

Like me.

-Are you Greek?

-Yeah. Can't you tell?

-Sure, I can tell.

-What about you?

Where are you from?

-I'm from Flushing.

-No, where are you --

Where are you from?

You know what I mean.

-Oh.

Where does it look like

I'm from?

-Here.

-Yeah, I'm from Kabul.

-Cool.

How am I supposed

to get you back here?

-Just keep ordering, I guess.

-That shouldn't be too hard.

-Hey.

Hey, can you please help me?

Hey, can you please help me?

-Hey, what's up?

-Can I please use your phone?

-What do you need it for --

You need to make a call?

-Yeah...No...

I'm -- I'm trying to watch

something, man.

-Sorry, brother. Good luck.

-By mid-June,

I still hadn't met the model.

Terry hadn't come

to any protests.

Terry, don't be lame, okay?

Put on a mask,

wake up the kid, and roll

him down to City Hall.

-What's happening

at City Hall?

-What's happening?

We're occupying!

Don't you read the news?

[ Doorbell ringing ]

-One second.

[ People speaking

indistinctly ]

-That's what I told him.

[ Doorbell ringing ]

-Delivery.

-Stand by.

[ Karla speaks indistinctly ]

Cake!

Thanks.

Back.

-How is he?

-Who?

-Delivery guy.

-Why do you ask?

-No reason.

-God. You are such pig.

Oh!

[ Bell dings ]

-Hey, I am not a pig, okay?

-One second.

-You're the pig.

You're living

in the Party House.

[ Water spraying ]

Hello Coco, I wish I didn't

have to bother you like this,

but I need Internet,

unfortunately, and it

just keeps going out.

I don't know why.

I don't know why.

-Karla? Back.

-Who was it this time?

Bahlul?

-That's Coco.

-Who's Coco?

-The mentally ill woman

who lives upstairs --

Oh! Oh!

[ Dishes clattering ]

-Uncle Terry!

-Terry?

What happened?

-Uncle Terry!

-Oh!

-Are you all right?

-Uncle Terry?

-Your neighbor try to

k*ll you?

-Is everything all right?

-I'm just trying

to water Coco's plants.

-What's that?

-Look! A rainbow!

-Cool!

-Terry, are you there?

What happened?

-I slipped on chicken.

-You what?

-I slipped on chicken.

I can't move.

-Oh my God.

Did you re-herniate

your back?

-Maybe.

-All right, shut the f*ck up.

I'm coming over.

I'll be there in 20 minutes.

Lie down

somewhere comfortable

and elevate your legs.

-Okay. Okay.

[ Call ends ]

-Why can't I come?

-It's not a tea party,

it's a house call.

Can I borrow that?

Go get arrested.



-Coco, Coco,

I don't care, just go away.

I threw my back out

in the kitchen.

Don't help me.

My friend is coming over.

Buzz her in.

I can't move.

Mask!



[ Theragun whirring ]

[ Groaning ]

Mama!

[ Siren wailing in distance ]

-You don't know

how badly I needed this.

Her first day in Tangier,

my mother had to

scold her guide

for taking her to a museum.

"Look," she said,

"I'm trying to have

an authentic experience."

-Take a left on, uh...

-"So no museums."

-Take -- no, keep going

down Fulton.

-He took her to the souk.

Nothing but tourists

at the souk.

"Tarek," she said,

"I feel like I'm not

being taken seriously.

And I don't like

that feeling."

Poor Tarek didn't know

what else to do.

He took her to the masjid.

"And there," she told me,

"there at last,

I had it.

An authentic experience."

[ Siren wailing ]

-Thank you.

Excuse me. Is Terry in?

All right. Thank you.

Wait! Hold the door!

Got it. Thanks.

-After she reverted, one of

my mother's favorite topics

became the hedonism

of the West.

"They're frivolous,"

she'd say.

"They're selfish.

Greedy. They're disloyal.

They have no community."

[ Beeping music playing ]

"No family. No friendship.

All they care about

is shopping.

All they think about is sex."

[ Karla speaking indistinctly

in distance ]

-There you go.

[ Karla and Bahlul speaking

indistinctly in distance ]

That's right. Here we go.

Hold the core.

Center yourself.

Good, good, good, good, good.

You're a natural.

You're very good at this.

-What in the name of God?

-Look who's awake.

-Hi, Uncle Terry.

-Where's your mask?

-Teenagers are immune.

-He's 20.

-Not till 6 o'clock.

-Bahlul, should you

put on a shirt?

-Why?

-Aren't you cold?

-No.

-Strong chi.

-Karla says my body

wants to heal itself.

-You want your lesson,

Uncle Terry?

-Thanks, I'm cured.

-Okay, then.

Shall we all go inside?

-Uh-uh. Absolutely not.

[ Thunder rumbling ]

[ Rain pattering ]

-I wasn't born abroad the way

my mother would have liked.

I was born in New Jersey.

My father had requested

they move back to

the United States.

To protect me from the

influence of my surroundings,

Mama never let me

leave her side.

-Release that.

Good.

-Little Bahlul was sheltered,

smothered, and adored.

We never went into the city.

And we had no friends.

Mama couldn't get along

with anyone.

-Now put your hand here.

-Not anyone American.

-Good.

Stand on your right leg.

Okay. Careful.

-The trouble was

that she was an American.

And I was an American.

And my father was gradually

becoming an American.

And apart from getting more

and more obnoxious...

-Will you put this on the air

conditioner to dry it out?

-...there was

absolutely nothing

she could do about it.

-Oh my God.

-Ah-ah-ah-ah...

Do you drink, Bahlul?

-No.

-Why not? Religion?

-I never got the taste for it.

-Oh. Will it upset you

if I drink?

-Of course not.

-Great. And you, Terry?

Grappa for you?

-I'm cutting back.

-Uh-huh. There you go.

But how religious are

you, though, Bahlul?

I mean, has Terry tried

to talk you out of it?

-Why would I do that?

-Aren't you an anti-theist?

Don't you hate religion?

-Terry doesn't talk

about religion.

-That is shocking.

-Why is that shocking?

-No reason,

I just thought

it "poisoned everything."

-There was a time in my life

when I thought so.

Now, I just don't care.

-Why did you then?

-We were at w*r.

-With "terrorism."

-Well, we were.

-And are we now?

-Now I just don't care.

-You used to care so much.

So much, Bahlul.

So much about

terror, terrorism.

-Karla...

-The "threat

of international terrorism

in our schools and airports."

-Stop.

-You will not believe

what he said about me

back in college, Bahlul,

who he said I looked like.

-Who, Terry?

-Go on, tell him.

-No.

-You're not going to tell him?

-Who?

-Terry said,

that with my shirt off,

I looked "just like

Khalid Sheikh Mohammed."

-You did.

-What kind of a thing is that

to tell a woman, Bahlul!

-I didn't know

you were a woman.

-How could a woman

look so much

like Khalid Sheikh Mohammed

with my hairy back and neck,

right, Terry?

-Wait. Who is

Khalid Sheikh Mohammed?

-He...orchestrated 9/11.

-This guy?

-That does not

look like Karla.

-You didn't know her then.

She had all that going on.

-Mediterranean genetics.

-How did you get rid of it?

-I nuked it, baby.

Shock and awe.

-I hate mine.

-I can tell you where to go

to get it zapped off.

-You're fine as you are.

-Hey, didn't Leo pay

for you to go get laser?

-Laser doesn't work on blonds.

-Leo used to like them

slick and smooth back then,

like hard boiled eggs.

Have you met Leo?

-Not yet.

-He would love you, Bahlul.

Be careful.

-You've met Leo.

-Did I?

-You met Leo at our wedding.

-Ah, the wedding.

-The wedding on Fire Island

with --

with your mom?

-It's just so long ago.

-Your mother didn't

like the island.

Have you heard

of "Fire Island" Bahlul?

It's a sort of...

beach retreat

for the children of Sodom,

and Leo has a house there

by the meat rack.

-What can I say?

I shouldn't have invited her.

-It's 6 o'clock. You're 20.

Time for cake.

[ Grunting ]

-You're so womanly, Karla.

-Likewise.

-I can't imagine you

as Khalid Sheikh Mohammed.

-Thank you.

-He's crazy.

[ Conversing indistinctly

in distance ]

-My mother didn't like

the island.

That I do remember.

We should have left.

We didn't.

-Hi, boys.

-Hi, boys.

-Hi, boys.

And what I remember next

is Mama leaping to her feet

before the vows and babbling

as usual about Jahannam

and the brethren

of Prophet Lut.

And I remember

Terry's look of shock

and other people laughing.

[ Both laughing ]

-And then suddenly,

she slipped, and tumbled

off the boardwalk.

She'd say, later,

she was pushed.

One thing is certain.

No one helped her up.

"My brother did nothing,"

she said.

"He said nothing.

He finished the ceremony."

And I remember feeling

so embarrassed on that day

and wanting to forget

the whole thing.

But Mama couldn't let it go.

-Happy birthday

From Uncle Terry

-And me, Karla.

-Happy birthday, Bahlul.

Happy birthday.

-Thank you.

-Welcome to your 20s.

-Bismillah.

-Bismillah.

-Bismillah.

-Incredible.



-Bahlul, eat something.

It's your birthday.

-Fine.

-[ Dusts hands ]

What, are you, anorexic?

-I don't think so.

-[ Snorts ]

-Terry, the cake is very nice.

-I thought all models

were anorexic.

-I guess I have

a high metabolism.

-Me too.

-Me too.

-But, seriously,

let's say --

Who's another male model?

-Alton Mason.

-What the f*ck?

-He's a male model.

Leo's very into him.

-You heard of this guy --

Alton Mason?

-Sure.

-Okay, let's say

you're on a dinner date

with Alton Mason.

Do you both pretend to eat,

or...what do you do?

-He isn't gay.

-Who? Alton Mason?

-Bahlul isn't gay.

-You aren't?

-He's religious.

-But you're gay, Bahlul.

-Am I?

-He's rel-i-gious.

-It's okay if you are.

-These categories...

-Right. Kids today!

-There are gay Muslims, Terry.

-Sure...

And where you're from,

they throw you off the roof.

-Who?

-!sis.

-There's no !sis in Morocco.

-Where is !sis?

-Syria.

-Iraq, I thought.

-Iraq and Syria.

They're neighbors.

-Fine. But in the Middle East

in general,

they throw you off the roof.

-Morocco isn't

in the Middle East.

-Where is Kabul?

-Iraq.

-Not Iraq.

-It's not the capital?

-Not of Iraq.

-Kabul is the capital of...?

-Syria.

-Afghanistan.

-Oh.

-Which, of course,

shares a border with Iraq.

-No.

-With Iran, I mean,

where they make every gay guy

get a sex change.

-I don't know

about that, Terry.

-Don't you think Terry should

have gotten a sex change?

-Shut up.

-Sure. I see it.

-Kissable lips.

Womanly hips.

-f*ck you.

-It's not a bad thing.

-If only we could all

live in Iran.

You would have made

a pretty woman, Terry.

Now, sadly, it's too late.

-Is it too late for Bahlul?

-Of course not.

-Would Bahlul make

a pretty girl?

-You're fine as you are.

-f*ck, yeah. Do it, Bahlul.

You'd pass.

And if not, you could wear

a -- um, whatever. "Burqa."

-First of all,

it's not called "burqa."

It's "hijab."

-Hijab is a head scarf.

-Niqab! f*ck!

-What IS burqa?

-Burqa's head to toe.

-And burqa's Taliban.

Afghanistan.

-Afghanistan, Kabul!

-Where, frankly,

we might just

as well be living now,

with all the sirens,

and the helicopters

and this chaos, and unrest --

-Do you really think I'd make

a pretty girl?

-f*ck, yeah, Bahlul. Do it.

[ Liquid pours ]

You could be a trans model.

[ Slams cup ]

Everybody f*cking

loves that shit.

-I don't want to model

anymore.

-Why not?

-I don't like

being photographed.

-Not everybody's trans!

-Okay, then. Calm down, Terry.

Jesus.

-Go on. Be a woman.

And your mom is going

to throw you off the roof,

then me, then blow herself up

in the meat rack.

But you go ahead

and be like everybody else --

a woman.

[ Table squeaks,

dishes rattle ]

-It's true.

Mama wouldn't like it.

-Oh, come on,

she'd come around.

Who could resist

this little face?

[ Baby-talking ] This little

cute little face.

[ Smooches ]

-Did your mother come around?

-[ Normal voice ]

She would have if I'd been

as cute as you.

-But you're beautiful, Karla.

-You hear that, Terry?

-Did you always know

you'd be beautiful?

-In fact, I did not.

And nobody thought

I would be.

-"Beautiful"?

-But you felt like

a woman inside?

-No. Nobody feels that way.

I wanted to k*ll myself,

and this sort of helped.

-We all feel bad.

That's life.

We live in hell. That's life!

C'est la vie!

-There are ways out of hell,

Bahlul,

even if Terry

didn't choose to take them.

Of course, you're not gay,

so you're not in the hell

Terry's in,

which doesn't feel

like hell at first

when everybody

wants to f*ck you,

but might later on,

when it occurs to you

that all the sympathy

and hospitality

and kindness ever shown to you

was really more like

a proposition than a favor,

at which point

you might begin to think,

"Hey, what happens to me when

they don't want to f*ck me?

What will I be then?

Will I be nothing?"

But you won't be nothing.

You'll be something

worse than nothing!

You'll be somebody

they used to want to f*ck,

right, Terry?

-Are you done?

-Because there is no loyalty

in hell, Bahlul.

There is no solidarity,

no family.

There's only daddies, uncles,

cousins, twins, and sons.

And everything's

a meat rack, everywhere's

a cruising ground,

and, frankly,

maybe they deserve

to be thrown off the roof.

But in the meantime --

praise Allah --

there is a loophole.

It's called "women"!

Loving one, or being one,

and I did both,

now I live in society!

Not pig society.

And you're welcome to join,

Bahlul.

Only you shouldn't right away

unless it's very urgent,

because you'd get too pretty

too quickly,

and I'd be awfully jealous.

-But you look terrific.

-And anyway, it doesn't

matter, 'cause you're not gay.

-And what about me?

-You're very gay.

-And don't I look terrific?

-Sure, Terry,

you look terrific.

-Yes, Terry. [ Groans ]

-Bullshit! I'm a fat whale!

-People are starving

all around the world.

-What is your point?

-[ Chuckles ]

-I think it's cute

you're both a little fat.

You're not perfect.

You're not models.

But you both have sweet, kind,

honest, American faces.

-American?

-I think it's sad

that, someday, everyone

your age will all be dead

and there will be

no more honest faces!

-But, Bahlul, do you really

think I look American?

-Are you not American?

-Is it American...to be Greek!

-You're Greek?

-Half Greek.

-Half Greek IS full Greek!

-I see it.

-From Anatolia,

my mother's very dark.

For all I know, we're Turkish.

-You're not Turkish, c**t!

You're barely Greek!

-What would you know about it,

little Scotty Bowers?

Bahlul, do I not look

Middle Eastern?

-Turkey isn't

in the Middle East!

-Whatever!

-That, I know for sure.

-Okay. Me or Terry --

Who would blend in better

in the Middle East,

whatever the f*ck that is!

-Karla,

you're less white-looking,

if that's what you mean.

-A-ha!

-But neither of you

would blend in.

-Does your mom blend in?

-[ Chuckling ] Oh, no. Never.

-Sounds about right.

[ Cellphone buzzes,

alert blaring ]

I should go. It's curfew, and

my girlfriend's probably

cheating on me.

-It's like we're living

in a w*r zone.

-We are, Terry.

-We wouldn't need a curfew

if you all stayed in.

[ Siren wailing in distance ]

-Terry says your partner

wrote a book.

-Vanessa? She did. Why?

-I'm writing a book.

-Really? What is it about?

-My life.

-Your life?

-Is that bad?

-Is your life so great?

Why don't you

make something up?

-I don't know how to.

-Sure you do. Just lie.

Lie! Just lie!

Be free!

Fiction is freedom, Bahlul!

How do you say "freedom"

in Morocco?

-Libert.

-That's fuckin French.

-In Arabic?

-Yeah.

-Horreya.

-Horreya!

Horreya!

How do you pronounce

your name?

-Bah-lul.

-Bah-lul.

Bah-lul. Horreya. Horreya.

You like books?

Read this book.

All lies! All lies!

Want me to sign it?

-Yeah.

-[ Exhales deeply ]

[ Marker scribbles ]

[ Smooches ]

There...you...go.

Horreya.

And if you find,

for whatever reason,

you can't make something up,

just write about me.

Everybody does.

Bahlul, do you have

"Snapchat"?

-I don't have a phone.

-Not even for "Tik Tok"?

-TikTok tracks your movements.

-f*ck.

-Karla?

What are you and Vanessa doing

for the 4th?

-Burning the flag!

Denouncing the United States!

-Let's have a barbecue.

Just keep your social distance

between now and then.

-Can Coco come?

-I guess.

-Coco Loco...

-Get home safe.

-Bye, honey.

Get well.

[ Door closes, rattles ]

-Take this. For Vanessa.

-It's got milk in it.

-You eat it, then.

-No.

-What am I supposed

to do with it?

-Goodnight, fatty.

[ Smooches ]

Give the boy a kiss for me.

I never fixed you.

-Next time.





Coco?

There's cake.

You want some?





-Kabul...Kabul...

Bahlul...Bahlul...

Horreya...

Hey...Hey!

[ Car passes ]

[ Kissing sounds ]

Excuse me.

What is your name?

-R-Ronald.

-Ronald. Come inside, please.

Do you like basements?

-I can't -- but my bike

is here --

-I'll buy you a new bike --

-Let me lock my bike --

-I'll buy you a new bike!

-I can't --

[ Door opens, closes ]

-Whoa! Hey, man!

That's not your bike!

[ Sirens wailing in distance ]

-What happened next?

After the wedding?

She left my father.

"In my hour of need,

you weren't there," she said.

"You're weak.

You're like my brother."

[ Helicopter blades whirring,

fireworks crackling ]

In fact, she'd never

loved him...

...and was bored.

She woke me up,

and dressed me.

And in the middle

of the night, we left.

[ Door closes ]

"We're going to see

the world," she said.

"The real world.

You'll thank me later.

I wish, at your age, somebody

had shown the world to me."

[ Screen beeps ]

-Just what IS

the "Middle East"?

-[ Groans ]

-Good question!

For the next hour, I'll be

exploring what we mean

when we use that term

and some misconceptions

people in the West

might have about this

beautiful, chaotic,

but fascinating region...

[ Theragun whirring ]

...where so much

seems to have gone wrong,

and where so much

of what has gone wrong

seems to have been our fault.

Now, before we get

any further, though...

[ Car horns honking

in distance ]



[ Birds chirping,

sirens wailing in distance ]

-Oh!

Horreya! Oh -- Aah, f*ck!

Hit it, Bahlul!

Horreya!

Did you get it?

-Yeah.

-Show me.

Horreya! Oh -- Aah, f*ck!

Hit it, Bahlul!

Cool!

Toss it up!

Horreya! Oh -- Aah, f*ck!

Hit it, Bahlul!

Radical.

Horreya! Oh -- Aah, f*ck!

Hit it, Bahlul!

I'm out of data.

Terry, what's the Wi-Fi?

-It's on the router.

-Where's the router?

-In Bahlul's room.

-Look, I made a TikTok.

Oh -- Aah, f*ck!

Hit it, Bahlul!

-Karla...do not post that.

-Why not?

It's radical.

-It's criminal.

-To post?

-To burn the flag.

-Who cares?

-Uh, the NSA.

-Terry, I've got 90 followers.

-Bahlul is in it.

-Bah-lul.

-Delete it, Karla.

He's been all around

the Middle East with Abigail.

He's probably on a watchlist.

-Watchlist?

Terry, grow up.

[ Bell dings ]

-One second!

Do not post that.

Put this on.

Coco! Everybody's downstairs.

Wow. You look very nice.

-Horreya! Oh -- Aah, f*ck!

Hit it, Bahlul!

[ Airplane passes overhead ]

[ Wind chimes tinkling ]

[ Pen scribbling ]

-I have that notebook.

-We should switch.

[ Bang, firework whistles ]

-[ Gasps ] Oh God.

[ Firework crackles ]

-I read your book.

-Why?

-Terry has a copy.

-Oh...

Did you like it?

-Does Karla like it?

-Why do you ask?

-She said it was all lies...

Is it?

-All lies?

No. It is not.

-So it's all true?

-It is an "elevated truth."

So...

But, did you like it or...?

-To be honest?

To me, it's not a good book.

-Oh.

-I'll tell you why...

-Oh -- Aah, f*ck!

Hit it, Bahlul!

-[ Voices arguing outside ]

[ Theragun whirring ]

-Pew, pew.

Pew, pew.

-[ Argument growing

more audible]

-...This didn't hurt Karla?

-It might have.

-Well, it might not have

if you would have just used

your imagination.

-[ Sighs ]

You make it sound so easy.

-Look, I used to be

just like you -- afraid.

But then I thought, "Who

cares! It's all a fiction!"

Now, I'm free.

-You're free?

-Yes!

-Well, maybe I'm not as free

as you, Bahlul,

because of my position.

-What is your position?

-My position in the world,

and I would think

you'd be more sympathetic,

given where you're from.

-New Jersey?

-No.

-Morocco?

-Given the -- Yes.

Given the legacy, the history,

of orientalizing fantasies

about the Middle East.

-Morocco isn't in

the Middle East.

[ Bang, fireworks whistle ]

-[ Gasps ] Oh my God.

I apologize.

-It's okay, look...

Just forget about it.

Calm down.

Will you sign this?

-But you hate it...

-You do better next time,

when you follow my advice.

You know, it's just...to me?

Fiction is freedom.

Isn't that what fiction is?

It's freedom...

[ Door opens ]

-Look, everybody!

Coco made a casserole.

Say "Thank you, Coco."

-Thank you, Coco.

-Thank you, Coco.

-Vanessa, can you help me?

Thank you.



[ Theragun whirring ]

-Oh -- Aah, f*ck!

Hit it, Bahlul!

Post was not blowing up

the way I thought it would.

Whatever. f*ck it.

Oh -- Aah, f*ck!

Hit it, Bahlul!

[ Toilet flushes ]

-Um, before we start, I just

want to say a few words...

[ Door closes ]

Obviously, I would never

call myself a patriot.

Of course...

Oh, Karla, I was just saying,

I'm not a patriot, per se.

And Coco and I...

-Coco Loco.

-...might not quite agree

about the protest movement

or the president

or, uh, the founding,

but even so,

it's nice to come together

with your neighbors

on a summer day,

instead of fearing

and avoiding one another.

[ Chuckling ] Right?

-Amen.

-Uh, because after all,

our sense of "fellow feeling"

has taken a real hit recently

on account

of this nasty virus,

which is real, in my opinion!

And in the -- actually,

Vanessa, if you could help me

with this,

just because of my back --

and, in that of

many scientists,

so, Coco, I really do

appreciate the gesture

of wearing the, um,

regardless of your -- uh...

Although maybe we should

just spread out

to keep our distance

in the yard,

since it is such a big yard?

And go one by one

to serve ourselves.

And not smoke, Coco!

Thank you!

-Vanessa and I form a pod.

-Sure.

I'll just make you a plate,

Bahlul.

Okay. Coco, any restrictions?

Is meat okay?

Everything's halal!

Oh, and, Vanessa, there are

vegan sausages for you.

There's vegan mayonnaise,

vegan cheese.

-Thanks, Terry.

-And don't you dare worry,

everything got its own place

on the grill.

-Very sweet.

What a spread.

-Thank you.

And, Bahlul,

can I get you a drink?

-Just some water, maybe?

-Just some water.

Coco, don't hold back.

Eat what you like.

Meat's there,

utensils in the cup.

All right, some water

for Bahlul.

Here we go.

[ Sighing ] Okay.

-Bismillah.

-You know, I read that,

in Morocco,

people eat with their hands.

-We're eating with our hands.

-Not hamburgers.

"Tajines."

-Sure.

-[ Burps ]

[ Dogs barking, pots clanging

in distance ]

Horreya! Oh -- Aah, f*ck!

Hit it, Bahlul!

-Coco, what is that?

-You follow me on TikTok,

bitch?

-Karla, I told you

not to post that!

-[ Coughing, sputtering ]

-It's meat.

-Huh?

-It's meat.

Terry, restroom?

-Oh, no, no.

-[ Coughing ]

-No.

-[ Retching ]

-Is it meat?

[ Door closes ]

Are they meat?

Bahlul, what does this

look like?

-Meat.

-Vanessa! Vanessa!

It isn't meat!

[ Theragun whirring ]

Vanessa, it is not meat.

[ Theragun stops ]

[ Door slams ]

It isn't meat.

[ Vanessa retching ]

-It doesn't matter.

See?

-But you believe me?

-Certainly.

-I can't cook.

-Nobody can cook.

Terry, do you have

any digestif?

-Mm-hmm.

-Okay. What Vanessa needs

right now is digestif.

We'll taste it first.

-Okay.

[ Sighs ]

-Honey, we'll be right back.

Stay right there.

-What? What?

-Terry, wait up.

-[ Retches ]

[ Footsteps depart ]

-[ Laughter ]

-Coco.

[ Sucks air ]

[ Lighter clicking ]



-Is "TikTok" the same

as "Snapchat"?

-No, Terry. Good Lord.

-Leo's always

sending me Snapchat.

-Do you open them?

-Of course not.

-That's probably good.

-What IS TikTok?

-Good question, Terry.

What is TikTok!

But an even better question...

is how your neighbor Coco

can find me on TikTok!

-Well, if she found it, all

I'm saying is, so can the NSA.

-The NSA?

-Anyway, what is the point

of that clip?

-Terry, if you'd been

in the streets, okay,

you'd know

the point is revolution!

Thawra! Horreya!

Horreya!

Horreya!

Horreya. f*g!

Horreya! Oh -- Aah --

[ Video stops ]

-There we go.

[ Cellphone bloops ]

-Come on...

-Who's Ronald?

-Ronald? What's he want?

-His bike.

-What bike? Who's Ronald?

-Says you said

you'd get him a new bike.

Needs it for work.

-Okay.

[ Cellphone bloops ]

-"PS, you need to quarantine.

My uncle has a dry cough."

Who's Ronald?

Did you f*ck him?

-Terry, I'm a lesbian.

[ Cellphone bloops ]

-"Maybe you forgot who I am.

Here's a picture."

[ Cellphone bloops ]

My God, Karla.

f*cking exposure.

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

[ Cellphone bloops ]

Put this on.

I'll tell the others.

You need to go.

-But this is fake.

-Just put the mask on, please.

-Who is Ronald...?

-You are unbelievable.

You and Leo...

-Who the fuckin heck

is Ronald?

-Yeah. Who's Ronald?

-Well, honey,

I have no f*cking clue!

-Is that grappa?

-You two need to go.

-Why?

-Terry says we've

been exposed.

-You two need to go!

-By whom?

-His little boyfriend.

-You need to go!

-Oh, Bahlul?

-Bahlul's his nephew.

-You two...

-Nice kid...

-...need to go.

-Let's just get out of here.

-I left my purse outside.

-Okay, I'll fuckin get it.

Call a cab.

[ Whispering ]

Don't say a fuckin word.

Dork!

-It's nice you're

seeing someone, Terry.

I hope he's all right.

-Why wouldn't he be?

-Doesn't he have COVID?

-What?

[ Firework screeches ]

Aah!

[ Whimpering ]

-Terry?

-What?!

-Uncle Terry?

-Uncle Terry!

-Uncle Terry?

-Terry!

-Uncle Terry?

-Uncle Terry!

-Leo?

-What?

-It's Leo.

-No, no, no, no...

-What's up, Leo?

-f*cking whore.

[ Laughs ]

-Whoo!

-Leo!

Leo, why aren't you in Berlin?

-Uhhh, what's that, bud?

-Why aren't you in Berlin?

-I came to join

the revolution!

-But why are you here?!

-Karla invited me!

-You what?!

-I'll see you later.

-No hugs!

-You're going?

-Leo, put a mask on, please.

-Uncle Terry says I gotta.

-Leo, mask. Ahh!

-Easy there.

-Coco Loco...

Give him hell, all right?

-God damn it, Leo.

-Don't let him treat you like

some sort of...

-Car's here.

-All right!

-Did you lose weight?

-Bye, everyone!

-Not back here, I hope.

-Good luck!

-Have fun without me!

-There's more of it

than I remember.

Want some of Daddy's medicine?

-What is it?

-It's good for pain.

-Leo, please.

-Say "I love you, Daddy."

-I don't love you.

-Say it anyway.

-"I love you, Daddy."

-Good boy.

Come, come.

Oh, and Hamadou's coming over.

-Why?!

-To meet the kid, the model.

And he's bringing

his classmates.

-Leo! No!

-You'll like them.

Come on.

They all go to Parsons.

-[ Screams ]

-By the way,

you say that guy's a model?

-Who?

-Bilal.

-Bahlul. Jesus Christ.

-You trying to

make me jealous?

I mean, he's not bad.

He's cute, but "model"?

-Leo, he's a model, okay?

-[ Sniffs ]

-He's a working model.

-Eh, what do I know?

[ Cellphone chimes ]

Oh, shit. Food's here.

-You ordered food?

-Hamadou can't eat this shit.

It's fuckin pork.

-Oh my God.

[ Cellphone rings ]

-Uh, hello? Are you deaf?

Food's here.

-Bahlul, bedtime.

-Hola. Cmo est usted?

-But I'm so pretty!

-Take that off now.

-Yes, either floor.

It's all one house.

-Here, get this out of here.

Let's go.

-[ Coughs ]

-But I was having fun.

I love having fun.

Leo's so much fun.

-You need to wash

your hands, okay?

I'll sanitize the wheelchair.

[ Bottles clatter ]

-What are you doing?

-It's for your stomach.

-That's stealing!

[ Doorbell rings ]

-Shut the door

on your way out!

-Karla?

-It's not for me.

[ Door closes ]

-Oh!

-Oh, sorry.

[ Sirens wailing in distance ]

[ Door closes ]

Hello? Delivery.

Hello?

-Where the f*ck is the food,

you f*g?

-[ Whispering ] Jesus Christ.

-Hellooo? I'm starving.

-Uncle Terry,

please open the window.

-No.

-Please.

-Terryyy, may I come in?

-Leo, get out!

-I'm fuckin famished.

-Coming, one sec.

Delivery.

Hello?

Hello?



-I was used to

people staring.

Mama and I were

quite a vision on the road.



Then, one day,

I noticed something different

in their attention.

Something desperate

and hungry in the way

they'd look at me.

What was it?

What had changed?

I spent long hours

in the mirror,

trying to understand...

what was it they saw in me?

Who was he, my reflection?



Hello to my reflection.



I liked myself best at night.

In lipstick.

In the dark.

At night, in lipstick,

in the dark, alone.

I saw a possibility.



But on the road with Mother,

I was so rarely alone.

-Lookin for Terry?

-Aah!

-Wrong floor.

-I'm so sorry, miss.

-Call me Coco.

-Okay, Coco. Okay. Sorry.

-Come back anytime.

-For some reason,

I thought, in New York,

I would have

a little privacy.

A little room to find myself.

Alone.

Away from Mother.

In New York.

I had an uncle in New York.

-Delivery for Leo?

-There you are.

-There you go.

-Thanks.

-[ Whispering ] Hey, that's

some fuckin tr*nny up there!

-Who? Coco?

-Yeah, Coco.

-Oh, Coco isn't trans,

she's just mentally ill.

-What is this, some kind of

fuckin tr*nny house

or something?

-What do you mean?

-There's a tr*nny upstairs.

There's a tr*nny downstairs.

And there was a tr*nny

on the TV doing this.

Kind of nice, though.

I like em. You like trans?

-Actually...I hate them.

-[ Clicks tongue ] Come on,

they're kind of cute.

Even that one

out there just now.

You know,

the one with the curly hair?

-Who? Karla?

-Yeah...Karla.

-I hate Karla most of all...

-Look, next time

you see Karla, let her know

that Ronald spent

a lot of money on that bike,

and he needs it for work,

okay?

-Just have her call me.

-I'm sorry,

are you Ronald?

-Why, did she tell you

about me?

-One second.

[ Fireworks rumbling ]

[ Door opens ]

-"Your uncle is

a wicked man," she'd say.

"A deviant.

A freak.

He may act normal,

may seem nice,

but he's not

a normal person...

...and he's just pretending

to be nice."

-Is this something

you could use?

It's not a bike,

but it's yours if you want it.

-Sure. Can I try her out?

-Yeah. Go ahead.

-Wow...

-The more she said

against you, Terry,

the more interesting

you seemed.

-Karla?

Can I ask you something?

-I never heard of him.

-Who?

-Ronald.

-Not my question.

But who is Ronald?

-What's your question?

-Did you sign a copy of

my book and give it to Bahlul?

-It's Terry's copy.

-But you signed it...

Why did you sign it?

-He asked me to.

-It's not your book.

-It's my LIFE!

-Don't shout! Please!

I really don't like

you siccing him on me

with all the stuff

about "imagination."

-I have no fuckin idea

what you're talking about.

-"Make it up!" "Fiction is

freedom!" Those are you.

You got to him with all

your little talking points.

-Honey, it sounds like he was

trying to encourage you.

-Would you say

it was encouraging

to shout in someone's face

and interrupt them?

-Sweetie, he's not

from Larchmont.

That's how people

from the Arab world talk,

they're like the Greeks!

-"The Arab world"?

-Oh, stop it!

-"The Arab world"?

-Give me a break.

-I'm not offended, Karla.

He was shouting at me.

-Sweetie, that's just

how they talk,

they're argumentative,

they like to interrupt,

the Greeks, the Arabs,

certain Jews,

it's all the same,

you just don't get it.

-I'm a Jew.

-You're like a Larchmont Jew.

It doesn't count.

Excuse me, sir,

where are you from?

-A Larchmont Jew?

-Sir?

-Sorry?

-Where are you from,

my friend?

-I'm from Brooklyn!

-A Larchmont Jew?

-But, like,

where's your family from?

-From Yemen.

-Yemen? That's amazing.

-[ Scoffs ]

-And, um --

And how are things in Yemen?

-Uh, it's not going so well.

[ Sirens wailing ]

-Mama told me

you were wicked, Terry,

without ever really

saying why.

-I'll take it.

-Great!

-What's your name, man?

-Terry.

-You're a cool guy, Terry.

See you around.

-But I knew why.

And I suspected

she would say the same of me.

I needed a way out.

Mama was getting weird

about the way I looked.

I think she would have liked

to keep me hidden

from the world.

But we were trying

to see the world.

And everywhere we went,

people would tell me

I should model.

"Go on, be a model,"

she'd say.

"Be a freak.

Go live in New York

with your Uncle Terry.

A'udhubillah,

then you'll see what kind

of people work in fashion."

I didn't know fashion.

And I didn't care.

Could fashion get me

out of here, away from this?

I'll take it.

-I hope you have

a great night.

Happy 4th.

Give my best to your wife.

Bye, now.

-Poor guy.

-Who says a thing like that?

-"Poor guy"?

Were you not listening?

His family?

It's tragic! Yemen?

-You say to someone you love

that they're a Larchmont Jew?

-Hey, is your whole family

starving to death in Yemen,

or are they upstate

playing shuffleboard?

-Just what the f*ck

do you think life is like

in Larchmont?

-I wouldn't know.

I've never been invited.

Why do you think that is,

by the way?!

What could it be about me

that you don't want

to bring home to Larchmont?

-Oh, you think I had

an easy time in Larchmont

growing up with blondes?

Going to school with blondes?

-Blondes?

-You think I had an easy life?

-Tip that driver 20 bucks,

and get over yourself.

[ Muttering indistinctly ]

[ Cellphone clicks ]

-Oh, hey!

Hey, miss!

Miss! Miss!

Can you do me a favor, please?

Could I please use your phone,

please?

-My -- My phone?

-Yeah.

Could I use

your phone, please?

I'm dying to use a phone.

-Wh-- what happened

to your phone?

[ Fireworks crackle ]

-It died lady!

I'm begging you!

-[ Screams ]

-"The world is full

of freaks," she'd say.

"Full of freaks and deviants.

You can't trust anyone."

-Hey, what's up?

Can you watch this for me,

please?

-But wasn't this the same

world we were trying to see?

What could I see?

I couldn't sneak out.

Couldn't get away.

We were together

all the time.

-Hey, thanks so much.

Thanks.

-How was I supposed to meet

others like myself?

"Uncle Terry's life

in New York must be

wonderful," I thought.

"He must have

so many good friends."

[ Indistinct conversations ]

-He was so f*cked up.

He had his leg up, and he

thought his leg was gone!

And we're like. "Bro,

your leg is right there."

-Oh, he's, like, really tall.

He has really, like,

beautiful black hair.

He's really cute, like you.

He's from Morocco.

Where are you from?

-I'm from Morocco...

-What?!

That's so f*cking cool!

Shut up!

Oh, my f*cking God!

That is crazy.

Uh, I'll be right back.

Let me in.

-Not safe.

-I have to shit.

-Shit at home.

-This is my home.

[ Firework explodes

in distance ]

-Put this on, and please

do not touch anything.

-For your troubles.

[ Pills rattling ]

[ Fireworks crackle ]

-Ooh!

-Why am I this person?

What was that?

He was enormous.

He had a big beard.

I thought, "This man

is going to r*pe and k*ll me."

And you weren't there.

But he didn't.

So what do I know?

I'm from Larchmont,

and I live in terror.

I don't know a thing

about the world.

[ Fireworks explode

in distance ]

Where is Yemen?

-South of Saudi, honey.

West of Oman.

-What the f*ck is Oman?

-Where is Yemen?

What is Yemen?

And why should you care?

For the next hour,

I'll be exploring

conditions on the ground

in Yemen, where a civil w*r

between the internationally

recognized government

of President

Abdrabbuh Mansur Hadi...

-Oh, he's getting up.

-...and the northern Houthi

rebels...

-He's leaving.

-...has raged for six years,

plunging this country

of 24 million souls...

-He's gone.

-...into a vortex of...

-I think he left it

on the stoop.

-...famine,

infrastructural collapse,

and desperate poverty.

-Sit tight.

I'll be right back.

I love you very much.

-...that the UN is calling

the worst humanitarian crisis

of our era.

[ Door closes ]

Now, before I get

any further, though...

[ Cellphone bloops ]

...I want to give

a quick shoutout

to our sponsors at --

[ Cellphone bloops ]

[ Door creaks ]

[ Siren wailing in distance ]

-Sweetie!

He left it on the stoop.

I'll wipe it off for you.

Here you go.

Good as new.

-Who's Ronald?

-Huh?

-Who is Ronald?

Who is this?

-You read my texts?

-I pay your phone bill.

Who's Ronald?

-Ronald has a crush on me,

and he's a little crazy.

-And do you have

a "crush" on Ronald?

-Sweetie, I'm a lesbian.

-No, no. Right.

It's just, in that case,

your identical twin

owes this kid a bike.

[ Fireworks whistle ]

[ Coughs ]

[ Scooter revs ]

[ Pots clanging in distance ]

[ Toilet flushes ]

[ R&B music playing ]

[ Theragun whirring ]



[ Theragun stops ]

-One day, I was approached

by an American

when Mama wasn't looking.

He said, "You're beautiful.

I work in fashion.

I can help you.

Let me take your picture."

-[ Coughing ]

-"Mama, I'm leaving.

You can't stop me.

But you can give me

your blessing."

[ Camera shutter clicks ]

-[ Gasps ]

Oh, wow. Wow.



Hi, Terry. Happy 4th.

You want some chips?

-Your friends seem nice.

-What?

-I said,

"Your friends seem nice."

-Oh, no,

they're not my friends.

They're Leo's friends.

-And how did you enjoy Berlin?

-Berlin was fine. Yeah...

Leo proposed...

-To do what?

-To marry me.

-I have not signed

the papers yet.

-Mm.

Would you?

-If you are sure

it's what you want.

-Yeah, I do.

Before he gets bored.

-Very well.

-Thank you, Terry.

You know, I never got

to meet your nephew.

-Bahlul has an early bedtime.

-Mm. He's a model.

-Yes, he is.

-Mm.

He must be very handsome.

-Uh-huh.

-And he's Muslim?

-Uh-huh.

-Ah. Like me!

-I never thought of that.

-You know, Leo wouldn't stop

talking about him all night.

You know,

about how attractive he is.

Yeah, I've been,

you know, trying to

shut him up about it, but...

-Yeah.

-Where is Leo?

-Bathroom.

-Still?

[ Men laughing ]

-Hamadou,

I'm gonna get that paperwork,

but will you just

watch the door?

-Yes. Let me help you.

-[ Grunts ] Thank you.

Hey, Lee?

Leo?

[ Line ringing ]

Leo?

[ Cellphone ringing ]

[ Line continues ringing ]

[ Door closes ]

[ Cellphone ringing ]

Leo?

Leo?

[ Cellphone ringing ]

Leo? Leo?

[ Mysterious whirring

grows louder ]



Oh my God!

Leo, wake up!

Get up!

Oh, my God, you pig!

You pig!

[ Screams ]

[ Breathing heavily ]

[ Theragun whirring ]

Aah!

Oh my God.

Hamadou!

Come help! Please!

-Whoa, whoa, whoa.

What's going on?

What's going on?

-Help! Get him out of here!

-What happened?

Oh Leo, what have you done?

-Guys, please.

-[ Groaning ]

-I need help at the back.

[ Theragun whirring ]

-Get him out!

-Grab his leg.

Pull him up. Let's go.

Yes, yes, we've got this.

Yes, carefully. Relax.

-Just go!

-I feel alive,

I feel so free

I love to f*ck,

I'm a greased-up freak

-Yes, yes.

-Yeaaaah

-Leo!

-I love to bite,

I'm lookin' chic

I'll freak you out,

I'm a greased-up freak

Mmmmm

-The door is locked, guys.

-I'm still alive, my hands,

my feet

-We'll go up the stairs, now.

-My blood is flowing

I'm a greased-up freak

Mmmmm

I live alone,

you come to me

-Easy. All right.

-Let's make a mess,

I'm a greased-up freak

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,

yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Greased. Up. Freak.

Greased. Up. Freak.

Greased. Up. Freak.

-[ Whimpering ]

-Greased. Up. Freak.

Greased. Up. Freak.

Greased. Up. Freak.

[ Screen beeps ]

-[ Breathing heavily ]

[ Gasping ]

[ Panting ]

[ Winces ] Ow!

-[ Coughing ]

-[ Panting ]

-He's still my husband.

-Get up, Terry.

-We're still married.

-He'll be fine.

-You don't understand.

If he dies, I get everything.

[ Coughing continues ]

Help me.

[ Straining ]

[ Breathing heavily ]

[ Grunts ]

[ Whimpering ]

[ Siren wailing ]

-"My blessing?

How can I bless you?"

she said.

"I can't even look at you.

You make me sick.

You're k*lling me."

[ Wind chimes tinkling ]

"It's all my fault,"

she said.

"The half of you that's mine.

And now you'll burn

for all eternity

like Terry

and the other freaks."

-Can I come in? No?

But he's my fianc.

[ Groans ]

Sweetie.

Aw.

[ Water trickling ]

-When I got here,

I tried to reach you, Terry.

You were busy.

So this was New York.

I don't know what I expected.

Magic and adventure?

It was just a job.

I went where I was told.

I knocked on doors, and

smiled, and asked for favors.

I stood in rooms

of beautiful young people

trying to get

their picture taken.

-All right,

maybe over here.

-Yeah, perfect.

Let's sh**t here.

-Yeah, this looks like fun.

-Beautiful.

Ooh, sexy!

[ Camera shutter clicks ]

Yes!

-Okay, let me see.

Shut up. Let me see.

Okay, yeah. This works.

[ Indistinct conversation ]



Oh!

[ Siren wailing ]

[ Wheels squealing ]



-Horreya, horreya

Horreya, horreya

-Horreya, horreya

Wad dunya, horreya

-Hey!

Get out of the way!

Hey there's a fuckin

ambulance coming!

Get out of the way!

-Horreya, horreya

[ Bang ]

-[ Screams ]

[ Horn honks ]

[ Fireworks whistling,

crackling ]

-Then I had my accident.

[ Fireworks exploding

in distance ]

Really, it happened

at the perfect time...

-[ Groans, winces ]

-...right as the world

was shutting down.

-[ Breathing heavily ]

[ Monitors beeping ]

-I gave the hospital

your name, Terry.

This time, you took the call.

You took me home.

And, gradually, I understood

what Mama meant.

You weren't exactly wicked,

Terry.

You were just a loser.

My leg is nearly better.

I'll be leaving soon.

[ Tube clicks ]

-[ Snoring ]

-[ Coughs ]

[ Cellphone buzzing ]

-Terry, is that you?

It's Hamadou.

-Hi, Hamadou.

-I'm at the hospital.

Wait, wait.

Terry, is that you?

-No, it's Bahlul.

-Bahlul, I'm here with Leo.

He's awake.

-That's good news.

That's good news, Hamadou.

-I know. Good news.

Will you let Terry know?

-I'll tell him.

-All right, thank you,

Brother.

[ Shutters clank ]

[ Shutters clanking ]

-[ Moans softly ]

[ Cellphone clicks ]

[ Cellphone camera clicks ]

[ Floorboards thudding ]

-No community.

No family.

No friendship.

-[ Coughing ]

[ Water hitting window ]

[ Coughing ]

-Coco! Do you love me?

If you love me, help me.

-[ Coughing ]





[ Coughing ]

[ Bag thuds ]

-Thank you, Coco.

[ Crutch clicking ]

[ Door rolls open ]

[ Engine starts ]

[ Door closes ]

Would it be okay if I smoked?

-Of course.

I'll join you.

[ Lighter clicks ]

-Karla was right.

It's not that interesting,

my life.

Tonight, after the barbecue,

I'll go back and rewrite it,

this time full of magic

and adventure.

Why should I be this person?

Why can't I be someone else?

Anything is possible.

Fiction is freedom.

[ Car passes ]

-[ Retching ]

[ Toilet flushes ]

-The night of Leo's

embolism --

Vanessa?

4th of July, 2020 --

Vanessa?

we ended our relationship.

[ Door slams ]

I don't care

what it looks like.

I don't care

what anybody thinks.

I loved her

more than life itself.

I hear she moved in

with Jeannie Koletzko...

-[ Sighs ]

-...and in a fresh burst

of inspiration,

finished her book.

[ Wind chimes tinkling ]

-[ Wheezing ]

-Coco!

-It's funny with the virus...

-Coco!

Have you seen Bahlul?

-That night,

everybody got it.

-[ Coughing ]

-But nobody died.

-Oh my God! Coco!

Oh my God!

-Except for Coco.



Once he'd recovered,

Leo sold the Party House,

but kept the bed

and wheelchair.

He needed them

for his new fianc.

[ Siren chirps ]

And Hamadou moved on.

I hear he's with a woman now.

A model.



-[ Exhaling sharply ]

-I guess Terry's nephew

got better, and he left.

Terry won't talk about it.

He was always weird

about Bahlul.

-[ Screams ]

[ Breathing heavily ]

[ Cellphone clicks ]

[ Airplane passes overhead ]

[ Bang ]

[ Doorbell ringing ]

[ Screams ]

[ Knocking on door ]

[ Ringing continues ]

[ Knocking continues ]

[ Thud ]

[ Knocking on door ]

-Hey. Excuse me?

Hello?

Excuse me?

Can we take this?

-The f*ck do I care?

c**t.

[ Doorbell rings ]

[ Knocking on door ]

[ Doorbell rings ]

[ Doorbell rings ]

[ Doorbell rings ]

[ Knocking on door ]

[ Knocking continues ]

[ Shutters clank ]

[ Pots clanging in distance ]
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