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