The Rules of Attraction (2002)
Paul Denton: I watched him with growing intensity as he refilled the pipe in the dark and smokey din of the room. He delicately fingered what looked like dried moss to me, and it struck me then that I liked Sean because he looked, well, slutty. A boy who'd been around. A boy who couldn't remember if he was Catholic or not.
Paul Denton: I feel like my life lacks forward momentum, ya know.
Sean Bateman: Since when does fucking somebody else mean that I'm not faithful to you?
Sean Bateman: (reading a love letter, voice-over): Got you. You're mine now. For the rest of the day, week, month, year, life. Have you guessed who I am? Sometimes I think you have. Sometimes when you're standing in a crowd I feel those sultry, dark eyes of yours stop on me. Are you too afraid to come up to me and let me know how you feel? I want to moan and writhe with you and I want to go up to you and kiss your mouth and pull you to me and say "I love you I love you I love you" while stripping. I want you so bad it stings. I want to kill the ugly girls that you're always with. Do you really like those boring, naive, coy, calculating girls or is it just for sex? The seeds of love have taken hold, and if we won't burn together, I'll burn alone.
Mrs. Mimi Jared: And what classes are you taking... Dick?
Dick: Ummm, Gangbang 101, Freebase Tutorial, and Oral Sex Workshop.
Sean Bateman: I only had sex with her because I'm in love with you.
Lauren: and it's a story that might bore you, but you don't have to listen, because I always knew it was going to be like that.
Mrs. Mimi Jared: I leave you alone for five minutes, and you're drinking.
Dick: Drunk. I'm drunk.
Sean Bateman: I really did try to kill myself... right before I faked it.
Paul Denton: What the hell are you doing?
Dick: Getting fucked up. Maybe getting fucked?
Sean Bateman: No one ever ever knows anyone. You're not ever gonna know me.
Paul: What the hell does that mean?
Sean Bateman: It means, Paul, you're not ever gonna know me. Deal with it. Figure it out.
Paul: Fuck you, Bateman! Fuck you Bateman!
Lauren: Abstinence is 100% safe, which is less of a percentage than...
Lara: Whatever, I don't care, I don't major in math.
Lara: You really think I'm skinny? Wait - anorexic skinny or bulimic skinny?
Lara: It's amazing how much weight you lose when you go off The Pill.
Lauren: Which is nothing compared to the fifty pounds you gain when you get knocked up.
Dr. Phibes, Waiting Room Doctor: Harry's gone bye-bye, he's gone to the big bye-bye. He's got his name in the papers on the back side. It's "Toe Tag Time in Teenville Tonight". Again. Should've just said no, Harry.
Harry: I'm not dead am I?
Dr. Phibes, Waiting Room Doctor: Actually, you don't have a pulse. I think you're dead.
Rupert: You want some coke?
Sean Bateman: Um. Sure.
Rupert: Then buy some of your own, bitch.
Sean Bateman: I just want to know you.
Lauren: Nobody knows anyone. You will never ever know me.
Lara: How do I look?
Lauren: You look kind of skinny, actually.
Lara: Skinny, really? Bulimic skinny or anorexic skinny?
Lauren: What's the difference?
Lara: Bulimic skinny passes for healthy, except your teeth rot. But my teeth aren't rotting, so...
Lauren: So you look bulimic skinny.
Mrs. Mimi Jared: Well..."Dick"... how is school?
Richard "Dick" Jared: Sucks cock-k-k...
Lauren Hynde: Victor was a Junior, a Drama major, just back from Europe, with a great body, these amazing gray eyes and only a little gay...
Sean Bateman: [Under his breath] I need a case of beer.
Paul Denton: A quesadilla?
Sean Bateman: What?
Paul Denton: A quesadilla? Mexican food? El Sombrero?
Sean Bateman: El Sombrero closed a long time ago.
Paul Denton: How 'bout tomorrow then? 7:30? I'll buy.
Sean Bateman: [Hesitant] Ah...
Sean Bateman: You'll buy?
Paul Denton: Totally buy.
Sean Bateman: Rock 'n' roll.
Sean Bateman: I didn't know where I was going, some place unoccupied I hoped, at first I thought there were things about her I would never forget, But in the end all I could think about was-...
Richard "Dick" Jared: Fuck you! / Fuck you! / And fuck you, pretty boy!
Rupert: I think you're a rich motherfucking motherfucker who owes me a fucking fuckload of motherfuckin' cash, that's what I think, you rich motherfuckin' motherfucker. You want some blow, motherfucker? You bring me my motherfuckin' cash, motherfucker!
Rupert: Fuck you!
Sean Bateman: Lauren wait, Lauren... Hey, hey Lauren
Lauren: Oh My God!
Sean Bateman: Can we talk?
Sean Bateman: Lauren don't walk away. HEY! I really did try to kill myself... just before I faked it.
Lauren: Wow Sean, it's over.
Sean Bateman: No it's not!
Lauren: Ya it is, I'm in love with somebody else.
Sean Bateman: Who?
Lauren: My old boyfriend Victor. Plus its none of your fucking business.
Sean Bateman: Victor?
Sean Bateman: What, then why the fuck did you write me those letters?
Lauren: Wow. Deal with it Sean it's over, Rock and Roll.
Sean Bateman: Lauren I want to know you
Lauren: What does that mean know me, know me, nobody ever knows anybody else, ever! You will never know me.
Rupert: Get it straight, fuckhead: I need you like I need a fucking asshole on my elbow.
[puts elbow in Sean's face]
Rupert: Right here. An asshole. That's how much I need you.
Paul Denton: Do you have any E?
Harry: That shit makes your spinal fluid run backwards.
Paul Denton: Oh, Jesus, Richard is that you?
Dick: It's Dick. And yes.
[Mrs. Jared hands Mrs. Denton a proscription pill]
Mrs. Eve Denton: What are they?
Mrs. Mimi Jared: Does it matter?
Mrs. Eve Denton: No.
Sean Bateman: A great numb feeling washes over me as I let go of the past and look forward to the future. Pretend to be a vampire. I don't really need to pretend, because it's who I am, an emotional vampire. I've just come to expect it. Vampires are real. That I was born this way. That I feed off of other people's real emotions. Search for this night's prey. Who will it be?
Donald: Need I remind you we have somebody OD-ing back here?
Paul Denton: He's not OD-ing. He's a freshman. Freshmen don't OD.
Victor: I no longer know who I am and I feel like the ghost of a total stranger.
Paul Denton: Sometimes I'm amazed at the shit the spills out of my mouth.
Victor: I meet two underage Italian girls who I try to talk into fucking each other while I jack off onto them. I end up buying them some ice cream instead.
Mitchell: Are you fucking crazy?
Sean Bateman: Define crazy.
[Shrieks like a lunatic]
Mr. Lance Lawson: Can I interest you in a turn-on?
Lauren: Um... no thanks.
Mr. Lance Lawson: Well... don't mind if I do.
Lauren: Are-are we gonna do it on the couch or...
Mr. Lance Lawson: Do what?
Lauren: You know, "it"...
Mr. Lance Lawson: What? Fuck...? Oh, are you mad? I'm a married man. And I would lose my tenure...
Lauren: But... aren't you coming onto me?
Mr. Lance Lawson: Well... for a hummer, sure... I'm quite aware of your abilities, Ms. Hyde. And it certainly couldn't hurt your GPA. So... Shall we?
Mr. Lance Lawson: Ms. Lauren Hyde... why weren't you at my tutorial last saturday?
Kelly: What's your name?
Sean Bateman: Peter.
Kelly: Aren't you a senior?
Sean Bateman: No, I'm a freshman.
Kelly: Really? I thought you were older.
Sean Bateman: No, a freshman. Peter. Peter the Freshman.
Rupert: Unless he's got a crack pipe stuck to his lips, I gotta assume he's 21 jump street.
Paul Denton: What'd he do, try to OD on Sudafed and wine coolers?
[aftergetting high, Sean starts to think]
Sean Bateman: I need to get some more pot. I'm running out. Then I need to get laid. Where the fuck was Lauren tonight? That Lara girl was kind of hot. I could bang her and feel good about it. But I'd rather have Lauren. I wonder why? It would just ruin my illusion of her purity. Whoa, is that really what I want?
Sean Bateman: I need to get laid.
Sean Bateman: Then I need to get more pot.
Sean Bateman: Are you here for that class?
Lauren Hynde: The tutorial on the post modern condition? It's been cancelled.
Sean Bateman: Typical.
Lauren Hynde: I haven't seen you in it before.
Sean Bateman: That's what's so typical. This was the first time I bothered to show up.
Lauren Hynde: You've got bad timing.
Sean Bateman: Saturdays suck. I don't have to put up with this bullshit. I'm dropping this class.
Lauren Hynde: Me too.
Sean Bateman: Really?
Lauren Hynde: Yeah. I think I'm gonna change my major.
Sean Bateman: To what?
Lauren Hynde: I don't know yet. What's yours?
Sean Bateman: I don't even know.
Paul: Three months later, the handsome dunce was having an affair with a friend of mine. Within a year he was a full-blown queen and telling people I couldn't get it up. Luck has nothing to do with anything.
Victor: Um... Yeah. You smell really good, but, uh... I don't know who you are.
Sean Bateman: What's wrong? I told you I came.
Lara: I was born in a Holiday Inn.
Sean Bateman: I wonder if Lauren goes wild during sex. I wonder if she comes easily. Or at all. I won't go to a bed with a girl who doesn't. If I can't make a girl come, then why bother? It's like asking questions in a letter. Hm, I'm hungry.
Lauren: It's a story that might bore you, but you don't have to listen, because I always knew it was going to be like that.
Sean Bateman: What about the cash, Marc? What about the fucking cash?
Marc: What class? Who teaches that, man?
Whiteboard on Victor's dormitory door: Victor, the test results came back positive. Be careful!
Victor: [summarizing his vacation] Took a charter flight on a DC-10 to London. Landed at Heathrow. Took a cab to the city center. Don't let people lie to you: hostels are for the ugly. I'm staying in Home House, the most beautiful hotel in the world. Called a friend from school who was selling hash, but she wasn't in. Met a couple of Brits who take me to, of all places, Camden Street. I flirt a bit at the Virgin Megastore, buy some CDs, then follow some girls with pink hair. I wandered around trying to get laid, until it started to rain, then went back to Home House. Ministry of Sound is dead, so I go to Remform - but it's Gay Night. I find the one hetero girl in the place and we dry hump on the dance floor. We cab it back to Home House. I strip her clothes off, suck her toes, and we fuck. I hung out for four or five days. Met the world's biggest DJ, Paul Oakenfold. Kept missing the Changing of the Guards. Wrote my mom a postcard I never sent. Bought some speed from an Italian junkie who was trying to sell me a stolen bike. Smoked a lot of hash that had too much tobacco in it. Saw the Tate. Saw Big Ben. Ate a lot of weird English food. It rained a lot, it was expensive, and I'm jonesing... So, I split for Amsterdam. The Dutch all know English, so I didn't have to speak any Dutch - which was a relief. I cruise the Red Light District. Visit a sex show. Visit a sex museum. Smoke a lot of hash. I meet a Dutch TV actress and we drink absinthe at a bar called Absinthe. The museums were cool, I guess. Lots of Van Goghs and the Vermeers were intense. Wandered around. Bought a lot of pastries. Ate some intense waffles. We bought some coke and I cruised the Red Light District, until I found some blonde with big tits that reminds me of Lara. I gave her a hundred guilders. In the end, she pulls me out, and I cum between her tits, even though I'm wearing a rubber. Afterward we made small-talk about AIDS, her Moroccan pimp, and herself. I wake to the sound of a wino singing. It's 8 AM and hot as blazes. I pretend to ice-skate around Central Station, while someone plays the sax. Trade songs with a Kiwi girl... Then split for Paris by train. Wander the Champs-Elysees. Climb the Eiffel Tower for only seven francs, because the ticket machine was broken. Got the hang of the Metro, took it everywhere. Went to a Ford model party and hooked up with a Romanian model named Karina. She chugs my cock at the Mariott Champs-Elysees, which is good. We played billiards, went shopping. I think she gave me mono. Drove a Ferrari that belonged to a member of the Saudi royal family. Made out with a Dutch model in front of the Louvre. Saw the Arc de Triomphe and almost became road-kill crossing the street... "Oakie" invites me to Dublin, so I catch an Aer Lingus flight and stay at the Morrison. Dublin rocks like you can't imagine. Oakenfold lets me spin some discs with him. Irish girls are as small as leprechauns. I swap hickeys with a drunk woman. After groping my abs and calling me "Mr. L.A.", she strips for me in the bath room of the club. Sneak into the Guinness factory and steal some stout so good my dick goes hard... I fly to Barcelona, which was a low-rent bust. Too many fat American students. Too many lame meat markets. I dropped acid at the Sagrada Familia, which was a trip to say the least. Cruise up the coast to the Museo Gala Dali, but had no more acid, which sucked. Some girl from Camden calls me on my cell, so I let her listen to the church bells in Cadaques. Canta Cruz is beautiful, but there are no girls here, just old hippies... So, I went to Switzerland where I, ironically, couldn't find anyone who had the time. Took the Glacier Express up the Schilthorn, which is beautiful in a way I can't describe... Euro Pass into Italy and ended up in Venice, where I met a hot girl who looks like Rachael Leigh Cook and speaks better English than I do. She's living for a year on only five dollars a day. We gondola around, buy some masks. She think's I'm a capitalist, because my hotel room costs more for one night than she's spending her entire trip. But she doesn't mind it so much when I pay the bills... I ditch her and hook up with a couple who obviously want a 3-some. Too much tension there, but the doofus offers to drive me to Rome, an offer I jump at. Traffic is bad and we're stopped for hours without moving. The wife turns out to be a freak. The guy starts to wig out on me. It's like a Polanski film... We stop for a while in Florence, where I see some big dome. A bomb goes off and I lose the weird couple, which is probably for the best... Ended up in Rome, which is big and hot and dirty. It was just like L.A., but with ruins. I went to the Vatican, which was ridiculously opulent. Stood for two hours to get into the Sistine Chapel, which - now that it's been cleaned - looks fake. I meet two under-age Italian girls who I try to talk into fucking each other while I jack off onto them. Bored, I buy them some ice cream instead. My hotel has a gym, so I work out. I bump into some guy from Camden who says he knows me, but I'm sure that he's a fag, so I lose him. I try to fart and instead shit my pants. Back in my hotel room, I masturbate and have a pain in my groin. That night, I dream about a beautiful girl, half in water, stretching her lean body. She asks me if I like it and I tell her she can clean fish with it. I don't know what it means, but I wake well-rested, masturbate in the shower, and check out... I make my way back to London and hang out in Piccadilly Circus. Hmm. Palakon. I swap shirts with some upper-crusty Cambridge chick. Hers was an Agnes B., mine a Costume Nationale. She acts stuffy and prudish, but is really wild underneath it all. She barely looks at my abs, though she wants to. The next day, I drop some acid and get lost in the subway for a full day and can't find my way out. I meet a cute girl who lets me jack off onto her as long as no cum gets onto her Paul Smith coat. We get stoned while listening to Michael Jackson records and the next morning I wake up talking to myself. I have a big bump on my head from flailing in my sleep. I get my stuff and barely make my plane back to the United States... I no longer know who I am and I feel like the ghost of a total stranger.