#Lucky Number

*

I haven't been this beat up

since my Aunt Fifi's bridal shower.

Guys, I'm gonna make this right.

The ride's over, Bret.

Yeah, you're on your own, pal.

Oh, fellas!

Come on!

Who would've thought a simple change

of phone number could've caused

so many problems?

You actually thought that you could use

my old number and pretend to be me

for your own personal gain?

You moron!

Go right ahead, judge me.

Jules?

But to fully understand the pickle

I got myself into,

I think we should start from the beginning.

You hug the seam.

And you, big boy,

you go right up the middle. Ready?

Yo man, no cuts!

Time out!

Hey, baby.

Aren't you supposed to be at work?

*

*

* We're the kids in the school *

* Who get trashed and we break all the rules *

* They try to drag us to the office,

but what can they do? *

*

* We puff, puff, puff, suck

* A cigarette till we've gotten enough *

* The teachers pulling out their hair

'cause there's nothing they can do *

* We're a problematic youth *

* Hey, hey mister

* We ain't goin' nowhere *

* Hey mister

* We ain't goin' nowhere, nowhere, nowhere, nowhere *

*

* The tall boys hit the streets *

* With such a ruckus it awakens the trees *

* The dogs are barking but it's our block *

* What can they do?

*

* We ain't goin' nowhere *

* We ain't goin' nowhere *

And that, my friends,

is how a guy catches a class A case

ofthe stink.

Come on, this the box out.

Right there, right there, boom, boom!

Oh!

It was--you didn't need that.

That's great.

One way to make more room in the truck.

Nice.

Ah, piss warm, but so be it.

Whoever invented yoga pants

deserves a Nobel Peace of ass prize.

What?

We gotta talk.

You got the stink, Bretty boy.

And a mad motherfuckin' case of it.

No kiddin'.

Ever since Jules dumped my sorry ass.

Tell me about it.

That girl full-on puked in her mouth

when she saw you.

All you have to do is be confident in who you are

and you could have anything or anyone you want.

Yeah, fake it till you make it.

Act like you're packing a baker's dozen.

-That's your phone again? -I'll check it later.

What, is that-- Oh, that's Jules, ain't it?

Just mind your own business.

Give it up, give it up, give it up.

What the?

Holy shit!

Paz man! Jules just sent Bret

a text of her blowin' some dude.

Don't fuckin' tease me like that, G.

"This one plays for the Jets,

and unlike you, he has endurance."

Oh, that is grim.

It only happened one time.

It was supposed to be a quickie.

Let me see it.

Give me my phone.

Topping it all off,

I was forced to wash down the shit sandwich

of Jules cheating by moving

to where the rent was cheapest.

Hey boys!

Mwah!

Hey Ma!

Now, here we go, boys.

Thirty seconds left, G,

Check it, we're gonna steal this game.

Keep counting your chickens, son.

My Founders are still up by one.

Yeah, but we got The Saint.

Yo, do your thing, cuz.

This is where Tyson St. James is magic.

He's watching the clock tick down.

Seven, six, five...

And The Saint goes hard to the hole!

Welcome back, I'm Vance Avery

live from the Knights' locker room,

and that was a sizzle-riffic game one.

Philly came tonight ready to play...

There he was.

My childhood idol.

A New York hero, The Saint.

Living the dream with millions of dollars,

a supermodel wife,

and endless talent on the court.

Oh, thanks, Vance.

I feel, uh, it was a good game.

You know, I've gotta give all the credit

to my teammates, the coaching staff,

our owner, Phil Page,

and, of course, the big guy, God.

So, my son has the stink.

Go do something about it, I say!

Look at these ball players,

not much older than you, most of them.

And not a stinky one among them.

Michael, he has a successful landscaping business.

-Thanks, Ms. R. -Garrett is a well-paid suit.

Thank you, Marie.

And you got bupkis.

Thanks, Ma.

Except a nice face.

And a silver tongue.

You wanna be a sportscaster,

be a sportscaster.

It's not that easy, Ma!

Nothing's easy.

I took out a second mortgage to pay

for six years of college.

And here you are back at home unemployed.

I'll get another job.

What you need to get first is a good girl.

Or just go out and bang out an ugly one

and rebuild from there.

Thanks, I'll get right on that.

Well, not with this you won't.

Ladies pick up on the little things

like duct tape

and disgusting BJ pics from exes.

Well, Jules does have nice breasts.

I'll give her that.

A skank's a skank.

Tomorrow when you go job hunting in the city,

I want you to get a new phone,

and a new number.

Mom, was that really necessary?

I can't afford a new phone.

Well, listen, I am doing you a favor.

Go prosper.

And get yourself laid.

A little birdie told me this in my ear.

Now, if New York wins the finals

is it true that you'll be donating

a million greenbacks to charity?

You're good, Vance.

-Staged! -Not!

But yeah, I've agreed to donate

my bonus to Jump Higher,

a charity formed by our team owner's daughter,

Nikki Page.

Wave to the camera, boo!

Nikki was perfect

from the moment I saw her.

Look at that girl.

But why would a high-class girl like her

ever want a schmuck like me?

She deserved a prince.

Or a saint.

That was a nice plug on the charity bit.

Very good.

Oh, you betcha.

S Man.

Sure thing.

So, uh, you got my kickback?

Have you lost your mind, motherfucker?

Shut your mouth and know your role.

Scar be in touch.

How 'bout the boss' daughter, though?

Her shitty charity is worth a million