My job consists of basically masking... my contempt for the assholes in charge...
and at least once a day retiring to the men's room... so I can jerk off...
while I fantasize about a life... that doesn't so closely resemble hell.
Well, you obviously have no interest in saving yourself.
Brad, for 14 years, I've been a whore for the advertising industry.
The only way I could save myself now is if I start firebombing.
Whatever. Management wants you gone by the end of the day.
Just what sort of severance package is management prepared to offer me,
considering the information I have about our editorial director... buying pussy with company money?
Which I think would interest the I.R.S., since it technically constitutes fraud.
And I'm sure that some of our advertisers and rival publications... might like to know about it as well,
not to mention... Craig's wife.
-What do you want? -One year's salary with benefits.
That's not going to happen.
What do you say I throw in a little sexual harassment charge to boot?
-Against who? -Against you.
Can you prove that you didn't offer to save my job... if I let you blow me?
Man... you are one twisted fuck.
Nope. I'm just an ordinary guy... with nothing to lose.
-Carolyn. -Buddy.
-I am so sorry to have kept you waiting. -Oh.
Christy left for New York this morning.
Let's just say things were a little... hectic around the house.
What's she doing in New York?
She's moving there. Yes, we are splitting up.
-Buddy. I'm so sorry. -Yes.
According to her, I'm... too focused on my career.
As if being driven to succeed is... some sort of a character flaw.
Well, she certainly did take advantage of the lifestyle my success afforded her.
Ah, it's for the best.
When I saw you two at the party the other night, you seemed perfectly happy.
Well, call me crazy,
but it is my philosophy that in order to be successful, one must project an image of success... at all times.
What are you doing?
I was filming this dead bird.
-Why? -Because it's beautiful.
I think maybe you forgot your medication today, mental boy.
Hi, Jane.
I want you to stop filming me.
Okay.
Well, whatever. This is boring. Let's go.
Do you need a ride?
Are you crazy? I don't want to end up hacked to pieces in a Dumpster somewhere.
It's okay. I'll walk. But thanks.
He doesn't want to go anyway. Let's go.
Come on, Jane.
I think I'm going to walk too.
What? Jane, that's, like, almost a mile.