Turn Me On, Dammit! AKA Turn Me On, Goddammit (Få meg på, for faen)

Mountains.

Empty road.

More empty road.

Empty road with tractor.

Mailboxes.

House with satellite dish.

Youth centre backyard.

Stupid sheep. Stupid hay bales.

Stupid trampoline girls.

Welcome to Skoddeheimen.

TURN ME ON, GODDAMMIT

Oh, hallelujah!

You should see how stiff and huge my dick is.

Big, warm, strong and...

Simply glorious. Would you like me to get inside you?

I just want to get inside you and let it go.

Jeez, am I ever hard.

Are you getting there? Well, this is it.

I'm officially about to come. What about you?

Hello?

- Alma? - In the kitchen.

- Hi, darling. How was school today? - As usual.

- What about you? - Not quite as usual.

A local news crew came to see us.

My boss at the turnip plant won them over with his charm.

Why's the phone on the floor?

- Hi, Alma. - Hi, Artur.

- Nice dog. - Bingo.

Mind if I join you?

At night I dream that Artur climbs in through my window.

He looks tenderly at me.

He leads me to the bed.

He carefully lays me down.

He pulls up my nightgown and caresses me with warm hands.

He lies down beside me, holds me close.

Stays there until morning.

- I'm heading this way. - Okay.

You going to the party?

- Yeah. - Cool.

- Sorry. - Smoking isn't healthy.

No, it's damn unhealthy. But it calms me down.

- I'm serious. We don't have all day. - You're right.

- What about him? - Perfect.

- Excuse me? Hi. - Hi.

I was going to buy beer, but forgot my ID at home.

What a pity.

- He was all right. - Well, maybe.

Hurry. The bus.

- Do you have to? Every time? - Yeah.

- Wild Wet Dreams, Stig speaking? - Hi, it's Alma.

Alma? Jeez, I was worried. You just vanished. What happened?

- Mom came home. - Oh dear.

- She didn't get it. - Well, that's good.

- Just so you know. Call you later. - Please do, Alma.

- What do you think? - Pretty neat.

- Jogging reduces sick leave. - It that a problem?

It could become one. You never know.

In any case, it's a good idea to stay in shape.

Bye.

- Hi, Magda. - Hi.

Artur's going to the party. I've bought a new dress.

I had my doubts. Then Maria came in and said:

I think you look hot. Buy it.

Maria's cool. My best friends' big sister. Studies sociology in Oslo.

She said, "Come and visit me. Bring Artur along."

Then she winked slyly.

"Hi, Artur." "Hi, Alma."

"Wanna step outside?" "Okay."

We run through the forest.

Artur looks at me.

He says we're alike, and belong together.

He takes my hand in his.

And we're one.

- Leaving already? - Can't stay too long.

Behave at the party. Don't drink until you puke or get pregnant. Okay?

All right. Bye, Maria.

She's having a blast in Oslo. Parties, concerts, cool roommates.

While we're here, locked up, oppressed.

- Take it easy. - I'm sick of this hole.

- I'm so done with it. I'm leaving. - So where are you gonna go?

To Texas, to work to abolish capital punishment.

- How? - Raising awareness.

Like, daily demos outside the courtrooms.

- Good luck. - You wanna spend your life here?

Be a shop clerk, party on until you turn gray?

- I'll get an education later. - In what?

Master of stacking and bachelor of price tagging?

There's Artur. He plays guitar in the choir band.

- And I'm singing solo. Hi! - Hi, Artur.

All men are potential rapists. They can do it if they want.

- But don't. - They have the gear.

- Relax, will you? - I'm relaxed.

This singer's a fascist. He's always been.

- As if. - It's true.

- Ready to step outside? - No.

- I'll wait a bit. - Me too.

- Why the big smile? - He poked me with his dick. Artur.

- Artur. - He poked you with his dick?

- What do you mean? - I was outside. Artur came.

He stood beside me, opened his fly and got out his boner.

He pushed it against my thigh. Like this.

- You sure it was his dick? - Yeah.

- I was just catching some fresh air. - Listen to yourself!

It's like... Hello, Alma! "He poked me with his dick!" Get real.

- You know what Alma just said? - I need a smoke.

- That you poked her with your dick. - Thanks a lot, Alma.

But... He did poke me with his dick.

Well, I've seen enough boners to know they'd shrink around you.

So off the mark.

Alma, are you awake?

Yeah.

- May I come in? - No.

Alma, you're much too young to drink beer.

- I'm almost 16. - Alma, please...

Please what? Please turn 16, or please don't?

- You know what I mean. - I've got a fever.

I won't allow it in any case.

Alma home?

- Morning, Alma. - Hi.

What happened yesterday outside the youth centre?

I don't remember. I was drunk.

Aren't you afraid I'll infect you?

I'm gonna take off my pants.

You're gonna go down on me, then I'll go down on you. Okay?

Artur came by. He fucked me. He loved it.

But I want more. I want more.

Touch them.

Oh yes, Alma.

Now go down on me, or I'll hammer your head in.

Get me a hammer. Now!

Hello?

Everyone knows what you said. Nobody wants to talk to you.

Ingrid came to see me. She took out her lip gloss.

I wanted a hammer inside me.

I got up. Brushed against her with my tit. She screamed:

- God damn it! - And left.

My personal hell just broke loose.

Alma! We've overslept. Get up! I'll drive you.

I'm really sorry.

Have a nice day.

Let me see.

"Anyone poked you with..."

Silence.

Day 1: The note.

Day 2: Me and the garbage bin.

Day 3...

"Dick-Alma".

Mission outcast accomplished.

- I want a hash cigarette. - A hash cigarette?

- Yes please. - All right.

We'll fix it during the lunch break. Hundred kroner. Okay?

Has anyone poked Alma with his dick lately?

Does anyone want to smoke this with me? Artur, what about you?

Huh?

That day, Artur walked me home from the bus stop. He said:

I don't really like the sisters, at least not the blond one, Ingrid.

- I think she's stupid. - You do?

I really like you, Alma. But it's so hard to express what I feel.

You're so...

- Unpopular. - That's right.

From now on it's us. I'll always defend you.

It's too late. I'm moving to New York to become a model.

But...

What's that?

We hurry home. Mom's not there.

We jump into her bed, tear off our clothes and have sex.

Then we smoke the hash cigarette.

Artur blows smoke rings like a pro.

I turn soft. Artur turns hard.

Then we keep having sex until sunrise.

Dick-Alma, Dick-Alma!

- Where have you been? - The mailbox at the grocery store.

All right.

It seems impossible, but you can feel his stench all the way up here.

Time for a break soon.

Ingrid will apply more lip gloss. Then she'll approach Artur and say:

"You gotta see this." She'll pull him into the broom closet.

Let him fondle her big, fat tits.

They kiss, agree to marry and have brats.

Goddamn choir slut.

Good enough?

Hi.

- Cool jacket. - Thanks.

This sucks big time.

I know. Hopeless.

- What is it? - Feel the smell?

- No. - Hash.

- It stinks of hash. My jacket. - The only stench here is of sweat.

- No, it's hash. I promise. - Very well.

- I'm not crazy. - Surely not.

- Hi, Kjartan. - Hello, Saralou.

- Why are you looking at me? - Sorry. I'm stoned.

- You want some? I've got more. - No thanks.

Maybe some other time?

I'm not into that shit.

- Goodbye. - Bye, Saralou.

6374 kroner?!

What's this? "Service number"?

Alma, have you been calling this service number?

It's phone sex.