INTRO
AMIR: Hey there, you're watchin' a ramblin' episode of Jake and Amir!
JAKE: No.
AMIR: And it goes a little something like-- [guitar strum]
[Jake and Amir are at their desks. Amir is playing a guitar.]
AMIR: So when I take my hand and go with you, be sure to leave me high, to do... goodbye, my love, goodbye, my-- prrd. To each her own, to each her... I love you...! [stops singing] ...Stupid.
JAKE: So stupid.
AMIR: It's crazy.
JAKE: That you did that at work?
AMIR: [balancing the guitar on the desk] Guitar's like... part of my body at this point.
[Amir lets go of the guitar, and it falls hard to the floor. Jake cringes.]
JAKE: Did that hurt?
AMIR: That's actually a polished final. On vinyl, actually, but if you have a note or a feedback, I'd love to hear it.
JAKE: If I had a single feedback? Not to write music. Don't write music.
AMIR: Joke's on you, 'cause music's not about a single note. It's about a harmony. [laughs] Not surprised you didn't know that, though, 'cause you don't know shit about folk, or folk about shit!
JAKE: You have a job here. I don't know why, but you do, so why don't you focus on being good at that. For instance, you didn't even bring a computer charger today. I guess you just figured two hours of work and then you'd be done. And if you don't want to get good at your job, which is... I guess bad, but, fine-- focus on things that would make you a better human being, like hygiene. Brush your teeth. Wipe your ass.
AMIR: That's funny, I don't remember that part of the song! How about giving me notes about melody, about tune, about how it sounded?
JAKE: Okay. So you're not listening to me.
AMIR: I am. I'll do that. I'll do the stuff about the brushing.
JAKE: Do what?
AMIR: Brush my hair!
JAKE: What's something that you don't brush? Not your hair. What's something else that you don't brush?
AMIR: I don't brush my hair, ya fuckin' idiot! [laughs]
JAKE: ...Teeth!
AMIR: I know!
JAKE: You don't know!
AMIR: I know!
[Jake doesn't respond.]
AMIR: [slurring his phrase into a single syllable] Iknow! ...I just want to do shit that makes me smile of you!
JAKE: What?
AMIR: Yeah!
JAKE: No!
AMIR: I knew this would happen. I knew as soon as I went off and did something cute and subjective, you would turn it into this, this, this, this, this, this nuclear bomb of me!
JAKE: You know what? Talk normal. Okay? "Nuclear bomb of me"? "Smile of you"? You're digressing! You used to be able to speak English.
[Amir is raising his arms defensively.]
JAKE: Put your arms down! What are you doing?
AMIR: Your attitude almost makes me not want to write a song and perform it for you at work... yeah!
JAKE: Good. That... that is the first time I've ever seen you come close to making a right decision.
AMIR: Excuse...?
JAKE: That inkling that you have--
AMIR: You're a dickling!
JAKE: I said "inkling", but you are the dickling. Okay?
AMIR: You're a dickling!
JAKE: The inkling that you have, to not do something because you know I'll think it's dumb? That's the first step into, I guess, adolescence. You finally have the social intelligence of an eleven-year-old.
AMIR: Well if you like that song, then you truly are the apple of my pie.
[Amir pulls out an apple pie, and pies himself in the face with it. It slides off gradually, and Amir looks disappointed in himself.]
AMIR: [to himself] Why'd you do that, ya idiot? ...You turn every positive into a weird thing of you. Just take the compliment, Hurwitz! You are an anal assassin of the highest calendar. He finally was on your side. He liked the song.
JAKE: I never said I liked the song.
AMIR: You said I had the social intelligence of an eleven-year-old!
JAKE: ...What word in that sentence says "song"?
AMIR: AKA!
JAKE: I have to work from home.
AMIR: Of course! And you can't give me a ride home because--
JAKE: I dislike being with you.
AMIR: --my guitar won't fit. Exactly right.
[Jake gets up to leave. Amir sighs and eats bits of apple pie from the pan.]
AMIR: [singing] So pie-pie, Miss American Bye!
END