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