INTRO
JAKE: Hey, you're watching Jake and Amir.
AMIR: Not me! My eyes are closed.
JAKE: Perfect. [sound of a metal impact, like a pot]
AMIR: Ow!
[Jake is using the copier. Amir shows up.]
AMIR: [pulling down his pants] Check it out.
JAKE: Can you please just go back to your desk? I'm trying to work--
[Amir hoists himself up to sit on the glass, which immediately shatters under his weight.]
AMIR: Ohh!
JAKE: Oh!
AMIR: Oh, it's in me!
JAKE: Oh, God!
AMIR: Oh, shards!
JAKE: Shards?
AMIR: Shards where I shart!
JAKE: I'll get help.
AMIR: [grabbing Jake] No! No, it's funny!
JAKE: ...What?
AMIR: It's a funny goof!
JAKE: Dude, you are clearly in a lot of pain right now.
AMIR: It's gonna be worth it! When it starts copying my ass!
JAKE: You're not gonna have an ass when this is all done! You just sliced it, buddy! You sliced it wide open!
[Amir hits a button on the copier. It begins scanning, and Amir screams.]
JAKE: Oh!
AMIR: It's burning my anus!
JAKE: Then get off it!
[Jake tries to pull Amir. Amir pushes him away.]
AMIR: No!
JAKE: Hey!
AMIR: You'll ruin the joke!
JAKE: Amir, your ass is burned.
AMIR: Yeah, it's burned. It's burned bad.
JAKE: It's cut!
AMIR: Absolutely! Sliced from taint to sphincter! Gutted like a fish!
JAKE: So climb up on out of that copier, huh? Pal? Can't be worth it.
AMIR: ...Is it funny?
JAKE: Is what funny?
AMIR: The copies. Am I the office clown as of yet, do you think?
JAKE: Nothing's funny about this! It's self-mutilation, bud! And there are no copies.
AMIR: Where's the paper?
JAKE: You pressed "fax"! You're faxing a picture of your burned, bleeding asshole to my accountant.
AMIR: Then have him scan and email it back!
JAKE: It's a her, and no.
AMIR: [chuckling] Chicks can't do math, dude.
JAKE: Don't be misogynistic. You're getting fucked by a copier.
AMIR: It's a five-in-one workstation! And fine, I'll-- I'll copy it. Here we go. Ready?
[Amir presses some buttons, but the copying doesn't begin.]
AMIR: What the butt is that? "PC Load Letter"?
JAKE: The drawer is empty.
AMIR: Will you insert paper to Tray 2?
JAKE: You should have looked before you--
AMIR: Will you insert paper to Tray 2?
JAKE: No! I will not! I will not do that. I'm not gonna help you.
AMIR: Fine. I'll do it without you.
[Amir begins bending forward slowly, moaning in pain.]
JAKE: I'll do it. God, just stop.
AMIR: This-- this may kill me, sure, but, like with any tortured artist, my work will live beyond me.
[Jake kneels down, surrounded by shards of bloodied glass, and loads the paper tray.]
AMIR: I shall be remembered as a martyr, a cool, and a philosopher. For I have the anus of a god.
[Amir has posted a copy on the bulletin board. He watches it intently to see if anybody will react. Pat walks by, looks at it, smirks, and continues on his way.]
AMIR: Perfect.
JAKE: Nobody even knows you did that. And you have to wear a diaper now.
[Amir, wearing a diaper, puts his leg up on the desk to strike a pose. There is a loud ripping sound.]
AMIR: Worth it, baby!
JAKE: Oh God, you need new stitches.
AMIR: Yes.
END