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Mark: I mean really . . . Howard: Rant-rant-rant-rt-rt-rt-rant-nt . . . Mark: You are . . . you gotta tell me something . . . I mean, seriously, I'm tellin' you, this is the first time that any of my girlfriends and I have ever met anybody reallyfrom Hollywood . . . I mean . . . really my girlfriend Jim and Ian and . . . Aynsley and Bob and . . . Frank . . . I mean, none of us . . . we've never . . . Howard: Pleased to meet you . . . Ian: Hi Howie Mark: We've never met a pop star from Hollywood . . . tell me something: have you ever met Davy Jones . . . or . . . Howard: No . . . Mark: . . . or Bobby Sherman? Howard: No, I . . . Mark: I mean . . . David Cassidy, he's so . . . Howard: No . . . Jimmy Greenspoon, and once I . . . Mark: Three Dog Night? Howard: Yeah . . . Mark: Oh! I love them! They're my favorite band! oh gawd . . . oh, do you like my new car . . . ? My dad just gave it to me for graduation Howard: Oh, yeah . . . ! It's a . . . it's a Fillmore, isn't it? Real futuristic, ah . . . I dig the fins . . . listen: do you know how to get to the, ah, Holiday Inn from here? Mark: No, ah . . . which one is it? Howard: (Burp) . . . excuse me . . . It's . . . it's . . . it's the one by the airport . . . you know . . . 'cause we gotta . . . we gotta get up early an' . . . fly outta here in the morning, you know? Mark: Oh! Oh, I didn't know that . . . (Oh, yeah!) Mark: Where . . . where d'you guys play tomorrow night? I mean . . . I'd like to come maybe . . . in your bus or somethin'... Howard: Yeah? (In the BUS!) Howard: Come in the bus, huh? Tomorrow we're in ah, let's see . . . Tierra del Fuego Mark: Oh . . . You're so professional, Howie! Howard: Oh, it's not . . . Mark: Howie, I mean . . . Howard: It's nothing . . . Mark: I mean the way you're gettin' to p . . . to play n all these exotic places, I mean . . . Howard: Yeah Mark: Tell me something, tell me and all my girl- TELL me . . . do you really have a hit record . . . on the charts now . . . with a BULLET? I mean that's really important to me . . . Howard: Listen, honey . . . would I lie to you just to . . . get in your pants? Mark: He-Hey! Listen! Jim: Hey, hey . . . Mark: Hey, listen to me . . . tell him : WE ARE NOT GROUPIES! Howard: No, I never . . . I never said that. . . Mark: We're not groupies! You better understand . . . I told Robert Plant it, I told Elton John, I told all those big guys . . . Howard: Robert PLANET?! Mark: We are not groupies! Howard: No, I never . . . Mark: Roger Daltrey never laid a hand on me! Howard: No, I never . . . I . . . it's obvious to see why . . . Listen, I've never . . . Mark: And my . . . Jim: Howard . . . Mark: Tell him! Tell him right now! Jim: We only like musicians for f-friends, you know? FZ: Real straight arrow, Howie Mark: Really . . . just for friends, Howie . . . Jim: But we still like you FZ: Yeah, we wouldn't mind coming in your bus, though Jim: I mean, we still want to hear your record... Howard: Listen you chicks, now didn't . . . didn't you just say that you got off bein' juked with a BABY OCTOPUS . . . and spewed upon with creamed corn . . . an' that your harelipped dyke-o bass-playing girlfriend on the backseat had to have it with a Yoo-hoo bottle or she went apeshit . . . ?! Mark: Oh . . . Howard: What's the deal, baby? Mark: Howie! Howard: Come on . . . Mark: Howie, listen to me, all that's true . . . Howard: Come across, like . . . you know? Mark: I swear, all that's true, and sometimes I even dig it with a Dr. Brown's Cream Soda . . . or a Cel-Ray! But . . . we are not groupies! No matter what you think . . . Howard: No, I never . . . Mark: We are not groupies . . . Howard: You see, there seems to be some kind of a communications problem, honey, because I . . . I'm a lonely guy from outta town, you know, an' . . . an' I want some ACTION . . . what . . . what I'm talkin' about is, I wanna . . . a-a steaming, succulent, ever-widening, gooey, drippy, runny kind of a hole with a . . . with . . . how shall I put this . . . ? What say we hop in the trunk of your Gremlin AN' GET OUR ROCKS OFF? Mark: Hey! Hey-hey-hey-heyyyy . . . Jesus! FZ: Very agile, Howie, very agile! Mark: I'm in this band, man . . . I am in this band no matter what we do up here . . . you know . . . Now listen, it just so happens . . . Howard: Yeah . . . Mark: Tonight me and my girlfriends, I mean, we've all come here for one thing tonight . . . Howard: Yeah? Mark: Looking for a guy . . . And we're looking for a guy from a group . . . Howard: Wow! Mark: BUT HE'S GOTTA HAVE A DICK! Howard: NO! Mark: AND HE'S GOTTA HAVE A DICK THAT'S A MONSTER!! Howard: WAAAAAAAAH . . . ! That's me!! That's me! Oh . . . Oh, you voluptuous Manhattan Island clit . . . FZ: I swear he was a Manhattan Island . . . Howard: Take me, I'm yours, you hole . . . fulfil my . . . wildest dreams! Mark: Ooooh! Anything for you, my most seductive, seclusive . . . pop star of a man . . . Howard: Yeah? Mark: Picture this if you can Howard: Oh . . . Mark: Bead jobs! Howard: Oh! Mark: Knotted nylons! Howard: Oh! Mark: Bamboo canes! Howard: Oh! Mark: Three unreleased recordings of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young fighting in the dressing-room of the Fillmore East! Howard: Oh! Mark: One enchilada wrapped with pickle sauce shoved up and down in between a donkey's legs until he can't stand it no more . . . ! All this and more, Howie, including: an electric coolde pony harness, with fuel injection . . . fuel injection . . . fuel injection . . . Howard: Oh . . . my God, I . . . I . . . I can't stand it! I mean . . . I mean, do you understand the implications of what I'm saying? I . . . I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND . . . FEET ON FIRE . . . I'M GOING HOME! I GOTTA SEE MY BABY! I GONNA . . . SO HOT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT . . . I CAN'T STAND IT . . . I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T . . . OH! OH NO! OH . . . GOD . . .! I can't stand it! Oh . . . I really can't stand it . . . please . . . give it to me . . . give it to me right here in the trunk of your Gremlin . . . give me . . . GIVE ME THE ENCHILADA WITH THE PICKLE SAUCE SHOVED UP AND DOWN THE DONKEY'S ASS UNTIL HE CAN'T COME ANYMORE! Mark: Hey-hey! Not until you sing me your big hit record! And I wanna hear the big hit record, and I wanna hear it now, an' I wanna hear the big hit record now with a bullet! With a bullet! Howard: The bullet? Mark: The BULLET! The BULLET! It's the part that gets me the hottest . . . now sing me that record, and I wanna hear it right now or you ain't driving nowhere tonight, buddy . . . Howard: Well . . . I know when I'm licked . . . all over . . . Okay, baby: BEND OVER AND SPREAD 'EM! Here comes my . . . BULLET!!