Dag

So that's what you look like.

Three. Rufus has broken three paws and his tail.

He could fill a room with joy. Now, he's just like a book end.

He tries pulling himself around on his one good paw, -

- but his legs in a cast just won't move.

When he tries to shake hands, he tips over onto his little snout.

- Like a cheese. - Yes, like a cheese.

I was having a bad day...

A bad day?

Is that what Hitler had when he entered the ghettoes?

"Sorry, I'm having a crap day?"

You monster! He was our little bundle of joy!

- Bundle of joy? - Yes.

- I will of course settle this. - Blood money. Judas money.

The doctor says he'll never be the same again.

Image what it's like for a poor little pooch. Stumbling through life like a drunk Norwegian!

He would play with Rufus every day for three, four, five hours.

- Ten hours! - Seven.

Seven hours every day.

And now...

He has no family to blame for his inadequacy. He blames a beaver.

- No, no, no... - Do you want to talk about it?

I wasn't going to drink for a year, but there we go again.

I have an image of myself dancing, somewhere where everyone else is 17.

Like a re-animated corpse.

- Like an Elvis-apparition. - Got it.

If they really were teenagers, you'll never see them again.

Tell that to the voices in my head.

The worst part is, I could have had each and every one of them.

- Does that matter? - Not anymore.

You couldn't have removed the dishes first?

Do you know what else I can't get?

Your brother.

- Is that what you want? - I don't know. No... No.

File this under "Operation Costs".

I can't read this. What is it?

Proof that I should abstain from contact with other beings.

- When's my first appointment? - They're in your office.

Dag? Why don't you serve your clients tea?

You know, chai or something that's relaxing?

I want them to be fully alert.

If they're calm and harmonious, -

- they're not in the space where their problem is.

It seems more fair to start arguing straight away.

It saves them money, and I don't have to see them more than necessary.

- And they've both given... - Both. Doubles.

Good.

So, here we are again.

- How can I help you? - My wife drinks too much.

- According to him, I do. Can you blame me? You want to have sex all the time.

Shut up, or I'll shove it up number two.

And before you ask... No, I'm not an alcoholic.

- How much do you drink? - Just enough to cope.

Could I have another espresso?

Malin. Please turn off the call system. This isn't a radio play, you know.

- Hot, hot, hot. - Have you not had enough?

That's exactly how I feel. And now it's my turn!

The point is, she drinks wine when she's cooking, -

she drinks wine while she eats, -

- and then has a drink to relax, while she's doing the dishes or whatever.

- And what are you doing while...? - I'm not drinking.

Can I get up, or do I have to sit still when I talk?

- How long have you been together? - Seven. Seven, seven.

- Seven years? - More espresso!

Malin!

Right...

You've entered what we call the "Dead Relationship Walking Syndrome".

Your relationship is headed straight for the electric chair.

Correct me if I'm wrong here, Sara, but Isak:

I think your wife is the most bored out of the two of you.

You fill your time by nagging, and she fills hers with wine.

So she should just keep drinking?

Let me quote Sinatra: "I favour anything that gets you through -

- the day, be it pills, prayer, or a bottle of booze."

So you're saying we shouldn't stay together?

I think you should spend your money elsewhere, before Isak gets addicted to espresso.

Stop playing with your tits.

OK, I'm outta here. Fucking bitch.

You won't be getting any, the way you're acting.

Here...

Bernander's Moving Company. Tell him I sent you, and he'll do you a deal.

But don't swear, he's a Christian.

I told him he could take a cup to go.

Listen, your sister stopped by. I was really nice, and said she could wait here, -

- but she'd rather go to the coffee shop.

She looked sad.

Is she in some kind of trouble? Or are you? Is there some kind of problem between the two of you?

It's a great morning. Smashing.

That'll do. See ya.

Malin said you stopped by.

She nearly billed me for looking depressed in your waiting room.

That's pretty much what we do.

- Depressed? - Yes. Or no.

Theo is thinking about moving to his dad's.

He's 17. I remember 17. To him I'm the lamest person in the universe.

His dad holds that title.

- What the hell are you doing? - I'm going to be a dad.

But I'm still young. I've still got all my hair.

So you're nailing yourself to the work top?

When you pierce your ear, -

can the ring be put in straight way?

Would you mind helping me?

- He was vulnerable. - He's a moron!

You're not a human being to Theo, you're just his mum.

Once he gets something to compare to, in this case, -

- the dregs of humanity, you'll come out looking just fine.

Think of it this way: The apartment won't be half empty, it will be half full.

- And I've got a house guest too. - Eva?

Yes. But she's moving today, she found an apartment.

She took it unseen.

You have to ask her on a date.

- Why? - Because she want to.

- She asked for a date! - She asked for a date?

She asked for a date!

- All right, but it will have to be tonight. - How come?

Because my day is destroyed already.

And you'll keep nagging until I say yes.

- No one. - What do you mean, no one?

You have no more clients.

- Do you mean today? - No, none at all.

- Why not? - 90 per cent of you clients -

- only have one session before they divorce.