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- And the guys ofyour age, they still ***?
- Sure...
- Me, I never find the girl I'm looking for.
I like sensitive people.
- You'll never find a sensitive woman. They don't exist.
It's ***. Women aren't sensitive. Men are, but women aren't.
- Women aren't sensitive?.
- No! They've got moods, emotions, definitely.
They go from one state to another and you don't have a clue,...
... but that has nothing to do with sensitivity. That's sentimentality, not sensitivity.
- What about mum?
- What mum?
- Mum's not sensitive?
- No,...
... she's a ***.
- So, you've got no more dreams?
- Since you were born I haven't slept.
How do you expect me to have dreams, idiot?
- But do you still ***?
- Do you think that's a question to ask your father?
- Well yes, why not?
- Why don't we go to Thailand?
- I've never cheated on your mother. Leave me alone!
- And swingers clubs?
- How do you know this?
- Mum told me.
- Really?
And what did she tell you?
- That you used to go to swingers clubs and you didn't know how to swim.
- Did she tell you that too?
- Of course.
- Why are you asking me all this?
Would you like to go to a swingers club?
- Yes...
With you.
- You're a moron!
- Mum says that too.
- I'm not surprised. Besides, why are you still bugging us at home?.
Do you realize how old you are?.
Your mother's right; you're just a dead loss, useless.
All you do is bother your old dad.
- Dad?
When are you starting your novel?
- Don't *** me off...
- Did you start it?
- Don't *** me off!
I'll start it when you leave home.
It's your fault if I don't make progress.
If I kick the bucket before I finish it, it will be your fault.
- And when are you going to kick the bucket?
- Soon.
- You've got to commit suicide.
Great writers, they commit suicide.
- Sure...
- Or you remarry a girl of my age; great writers, they do that too.
- Stop talking now!
- You've got to hold on at least 10 another years.
- Why do you say that?
- Because you've got to finish your novel, old mate.
- What's with you and this novel?
You're ashamed of me, aren't you?
- No.
- Then, why are you bugging me?
- Because I don't want you to kick the bucket.
- I could have been Italian.
A tall and handsome Milanese with linen suits.
And I end up with a little runt...
... asking me stupid questions in an automobile...
Good heavens, it's so sad.
- Come on, your life hasn't been that lousy.
And why are you with mum if you can't stand her anymore?
- I'm old and gloomy.
- You're completely depressed, dad. You've got to do something.
- I'm not depressed, I'm depressive!
Depressed is for losers. I don't play in the third division, for your information.
Depressive is much better.
- OK, forget it...
- Anyway, if I'm depressive it's your fault.
- How old are you?
- 26.
- Well, have kids, that way I'll be a grandfather and I'll be happy.
At my age, you have to be a grandfather.
Why do you think I put myself out having a large family?
- How old were you when you had me?
- 41.
- 41!
- OK, OK...
- 41! And you're telling me that I should have kids.
- Forget it, OK!
- You've got to do what I tell you, not what I do.
That's the rule, that's the way we raised you.
- I must be seeing things!
- That's enough for now. What shall we do now?
- What we said.
- Yes, but wait... I don't know...
You really believe...
- Listen, that's what we planned, so let's do it, period!
- OK, if you want.
- It's not "if I want", it's "if we want"!
- We aren't going to kill her, are we?
- Why not?
- It's a bit exaggerated, isn't it?
- You've got to know what you want, old boy.
- Yes, but...
She's my wife. I mean...
- So what? She's my mother. You're not going to make a fuss about it.
Have you seen how she pisses us off?
- Yes, but... Couldn't we postpone it for a bit longer. I don't know...
- So, what now?
- Well, I don't know...
- You don't know what?
- I don't know! That's all!
- You're a pony.
- What are you bullshitting me now?
- You've got no guts, the only person you're deceiving is yourself. You're a pony.
- That's moving, a pony.
- You're a loser, dad.
A small *** floating miserably in a puddle.
You're old, you're ugly, and on top of that you dress ***.
I feel sorry for you, dad.
- What the hell are you doing?
- I'm going to take co-ca-ine.
- Are you insane? Come on, put it away!
- For God's sake, Gilles!
- Your turn.
Come on, it's good for making decisions.
You press your finger on a nostril and you breathe deeply with the other one, OK?
Breathe in hard, dad, otherwise it's useless!
- My God, it's so sad...
It's very bitter, your thing.
It's as if I 'd drunk a good espresso.
- Well?
- What?
- I don't know. Don't you feel anything?
- No.
- Do you know how to imitate tortoises?
Look.
That's what I did.
- Did what?
- To seduce your mother...
I imitated her tortoises.
You spend your time planning things...
... and then you have tortoises who enter your life.
- And then?
- And then things get more complicated.
And then you die.
- Dad,...
... you know I love you...
- I love you too.
- Mum?
Mum?
Mum, dad and I we're going and...