really.
nine, sweets.
really, what a coincidence.
does she live here?
paul.
ye-es. what do you want to do? you don't want to be a waitress do you?
of course.  how about dinner?
dinner, then the theatre, my sweets.
good evening, jerome.
you know each other?
what's this intercourse, shit?
i'm warning you.
what do you want?
you having trouble?
no?
where's lisa and wendy?
morris called me this morning. seems he's got himself a new group called vanity six. you know anything about them?
he tells me they're great. thinks i'll be interested. that's cool, but now i've got a problem.
i book three acts -- i can't afford four. if they're as good as morris says they are, one of you will have to go.
go around the block!
it won't be the time -- they're playing backup to vanity. so it's either you or the modern aires. what would you do in my position?
i like the modern aires. they have a good following -- they show up for practice -- and the kids like all their music.
'nough said. get smart. straighten up your shit.
the duke of dick is in rare form tonight.
what the fuck's wrong with you, prince?!
my stage is no place for your personal shit!
life my ass, motherfucker! this is a business, and you're not too far gone to see that. i've told you this before. you're not pulling them in like you used to. the only person who gives a fuck about your music is yourself.
just like your old man.
yeah -- you got it. tell me i'm wrong. you're not blind. look around you. no one's digging you.
look at your band. are they in here right now? they're out there 'cause they can't stand being in the same room with you. what a fucking waste. like father, like son--
take your head out of your ass, prince, check it out -- unless you like the view up there. your music doesn't make sense to anyone but yourself.
morris is squeezing you, kiddo. you better kick ass tomorrow night or else.
jesus!