Laguna Ave.

No, man. I deleted that shit months ago.

- Did you not read about it? - Oh, yeah, yeah.

No, me too. Me too.

They've got all your contacts.

All your friends. All your data.

And they use it to advertise to you...

Totally. Totally.

- -

Okay, let's go.

That motherfucker.

- Hey. - Hello, good morning.

Group powwow.

Haven't had one of these in a while.

Oh, Dan, they rented the apartment.

I don't think it's right.

What do you mean?

The landlord should have waited.

Yeah, I talked to those kids once. They were weird.

Nobody cares about that shit. It's all about the money.

Oh, and they left all their shit.

They actually left their cars too.

Maybe they're dead.

- What's up, Russell? -

- Hey, Russell. - Babe. Babe, what happened?

Bye, Russell.

Babe? Russell?

It was a strange apartment anyway.

I mean, wasn't it like a meth lab back in the day?

No, no, it was, er... it was acid.

Hmm... makes sense.

What about that guy who got beat up

by those people in the black SUV?

- Oh, dude. Juan's friend died. - Shut up!

Yeah, he hit his head on the curb.

He got a hemorrhage.

And why didn't he go to the hospital?

Because he is an undocumented worker

and he didn't wanna get deported.

Your country is so fucked.

America is the best, dude.

What the fuck did your country ever give us

except for stale waffles and shitty monk beer?

- Jacques Brel. - What?

Jacques Brel!

What the fuck is he talking about?

Idiot.

Has anybody met the new guy?

No.

You gotta get in shape, babe.

I just lost my job. Can I worry about one thing at a time?

Oh, I'm going outta town tomorrow.

What? What for?

I told you about this months ago.

Oh, yeah. How long?

Like, two weeks.

That's a long damn trip.

Mm-hmm. We're prepping for the convention.

Well, that's the third trip this month.

Do you want me to stay home?

No. It's just often, that's all.

I'm sorry you lost your job, babe.

Mmm...

Maybe you shouldn't take naps in the office, huh?

The door had a lock, so I used it.

Every day?

They can't tell me what to do on my lunch.

Besides, that fucker still owes me 3,000 bucks.

Hey, hey. Just... strike it up to a learning experience, right?

- Mm-hmm. - You gotta do contracts.

I'm sure you'll get another gig soon.

- Good night. - Mmm...

- -

Motherfucker!

- -

Hurry the fuck up!

Fuck you!

Hey. No. Just call the landlord.

Really? When has he ever done anything?

- - Shh. It stopped.

Go to sleep.

[Screaming and synth music resumes downstairs]

Ah, come on!

Are you aware that people live upstairs?

Let me talk to the guy who lives here.

You guys are making a ton of noise

and I can't fucking sleep.

He's busy.

Yeah, well, I was busy sleeping about two seconds ago.

He's not himself right now.

All good?

Yeah. That dude is just kinky.

Mmm.

Oh, don't forget the rent check, okay?

I really can't front you this month.

Three weeks' pay. 1,000 a week. That's 3,000 bucks.

That's what you owe me. That's my reduced rate!

'Come on, don't fuck with me, man.

'We said 1,000 and deferments if the show is picked up.'

No. That's a conversation you had in your own mind.

'You should be grateful I even let you work on this project.'

Ha-ha-ha! Okay, when are you gonna send me the check?

'I'm not.'

I'm gonna come down there and pick it up.

'Don't you dare come in here.

'I paid you what I owed you, motherfucker.'

- - Fuck you, dude!

Fuckin' hang up on me!

Russell?

- Russell! - What?

For the last time, the trash.

Can't you see I'm just having a shitty day? You take it out.

You know what? You can have a shitty day

and still perform basic human tasks.

Oh, please! When's the last time you had a shitty anything?

Suckling your sweet milk from the corporate teat!

Ow!

'Motherfucker.

'Motherfucker!

'Motherfucker!'

'Find out about Farah Hampernickel's

'300,000-dollar designer dog outfit

'with solar panels in three, two, one...'

'But with ecotourism

'becoming an ever-increasing source of revenue...'

'...Grim Reaper breaks into a house

'at three o'clock in the morning

'to warn the family about vaccines...'

'...deleterious economic climate...'

- One dollar. - 'White House adviser...'

- - Fuck you, Ryan Seacrest.

Goddamn loser.

So I see this as a popportunity for you, okay?

That's Adderall, by the way. Just so you know.

Helps me think straight, you know?

But this is a popportunity,

which is an opportunity that's about to pop.

You know what I'm saying? This is girls, travel, awards.

My last guy won the Montebella Media Award.

Also had nods for the Cucumunga Association

for Advertisement Commerce.

Something like that.

So this shit can lead somewhere, okay?

You get to cover your own travel.

You get to cover your own expenses.

It's gonna be 24 hours on call.

You're gonna have to run and gun,

shoot and poot, or whatever. Alright?

- What does it pay? - It's 15.

An hour?

Just so you know, there's a guy from AFI

that's begging to do it for free. Begging.

Great. Hire him.

- - Yikes.

Fuckin' bullshit.

Oh! Hey, hey. I think you live downstairs...

Hello, Russell.

- Thanks. - Santé.

Cheers.

You know, I was sorry to hear about your job.

It's cool.

Any new prospects?

Nah. Nobody wants to pay me what I'm worth.

You know, there are laws against discrimination?

Dude, I still edit the same.

Wait a second. I want to show you something.

You need to lay off the sauce, man.

- Only the very finest. - Mmm...