#10. Living Zen
JACK: I wrote little haiku poems.
JACK: I emailed them to everyone.
BOSS: Is that your blood?
JACK: Some of it, yes.
BOSS: You can't smoke in here. Take the rest of the day off. Come Come back Monday with some clean clothes. Get yourself together.
JACK: I got right in everyone's hostile little face. Yes, these are bruises from fighting. I'm comfortable with them. I am enlightened.
JACK: You give up the condo life, give up all your flaming worldly possessions, go live in a dilapidated house in the toxic waste part of town...
JACK: ... and you come home to this.
JACK: Hello.
DETECTIVE STERN: This is Detective Stern with the Arson unit. We have some new information about the incident at your former condo.
JACK: Yes?
DETECTIVE STERN: I don't know if you're aware, -- it seems someone sprayed Freon into your front-door lock. Then tapped it with a chisel to shatter the cylinder.
JACK: No, I wasn't aware of that at all...
JACK: I am Jack's Cold Sweat.
DETECTIVE STERN: Does this sound strange to you?
JACK: Yes, sir, it' s strange. Very strange.
DETECTIVE STERN: The dynamite...
JACK: Dynamite?
DETECTIVE STERN: Yes. It left a residue of ammonium oxalate and potassium perchloride. Do you know what this means?
JACK: What does that mean?
DETECTIVE STERN: It means it was homemade.
JACK: I'm sorry. This is just coming as quite a shock for me, sir.
DETECTIVE STERN: Whoever set this homemade dynamite could've blown out the pilot light days before the actual explosion. The gas was just a detonator.
JACK: Who would gonna do such things?
DETECTIVE STERN: I'll ask the questions.
TYLER: Tell him...
JACK: Huh?
TYLER: "The liberator who destroyed my property has re-aligned my perceptions."
DETECTIVE STERN: Excuse me. Are you there?
JACK: I am listening. It's hard to know what to make of this.
DETECTIVE STERN: Have you recently made enemies who might have access to homemade dynamite?
JACK: Enemies?
TYLER: Reject civilization, the basic assumptions of civilization, especially importance of material possessions."
DETECTIVE STERN: Son, this is serious.
JACK: I know that.
DETECTIVE STERN: I mean that.
JACK: Yes. Look, nobody takes this more seriously than me. That condo was my life. OK?
I loved every stick of furniture in that place. That was not just a bunch of stuff that got destroyed.
TYLER: It was me!
JACK: I'd like to thank the academy...
DETECTIVE STERN: Is this not a good time for you?
TYLER: Just tell him you fucking did it! Tell him you blew it all up!
DETECTIVE STERN: Are you still there?
JACK: Wait. Are you saying that I'm a suspect? No, I may need to talk to you, so you let me know if you gonna leave town. OK?
JACK: OK.
JACK: Except for their humping, Tyler and Marla were never in the same room. My parents pulled this exact same act for years.
MARLA: I got this dress at a thrift store for one dollar.
JACK: Worth every penny.
JACK: My parents pulled this exact act for years -- one came in, the other disappeared.
MARLA: The condom is the glass slipper i our generation. You lip one when you meet a stranger. You dance all night. Then you throw it away. The condom, I mean. Not the stranger.
JACK: What?
MARLA: I've got this dress in a thrift store for one dollar.
JACK: It worth every penny.
MARLA: Someone loved it intensely for one day. Then tossed it. Like a Christmas tree -- so special, then, bam -- it's on the side of the road. Tinsel still clinging to it.
MARLA: Like a sex crime victim, underwear inside-out, bound with electrical tape.
JACK: Well then, it suits you.
MARLA: You can borrow it sometime.
TYLER: Get rid of her.
JACK: W hat? You get rid of her.
TYLER: Don't mention me.
JACK: I'm six years old again, passing messages between parents.
JACK: Now, i really think it's time you left. Not that we don't love your visits.
MARLA: You're such a nutcase, I can't even begin keeping up.
MARLA: Gotta get off.
JACK: Thanks. Bye.
MARLA: Gotta get off this merry-go-round. Gonna get, not to get... Gotta get...
TYLER: You kids!
JACK: Why do you still waste time at her?
TYLER: I'll say this about Marla. At least she's trying to hit the bottom.
JACK: Well, And I am not?
TYLER: Feathers up your butt don't make you a chicken.
JACK: What are we doing tonight?
TYLER: Tonight we make soap.
