Let's go get some of that Saturday night beaver.
Want to hear a poem I wrote? "I love you, you love me. Going down the sugar tree. We'll go down the sugar tree, and see lots of bees. Playing. Playing. But the bees won't sting, because you love me." That's it.
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1 sceneLook, man, all we need is the tapes, alright?
No. You don't get the tapes until you've paid.
In our situation, that doesn't make any **** sense.
Look, we cannot pay for the tapes unless we take the tapes to the record company and get paid.
Hello? Exactly.
That's not an MP, that's a YP, your problem. Come up with the money, or forget it.
Okay, now you're talking above my head. I don't know all of this industry jargon, YP, MP, whatever. All I know is that I can't get a record contract, we cannot get a record contract unless we take those tapes to the record company. And granted, the tapes themselves are a uh um oh, you own them, all right, but the magic that is on those tapes. That **** heart and soul that we put onto those tapes, that is ours and you don't own that. Now I need to take that magic and get it over the record company. And they're waiting for us, we were supposed to be there a half hour ago. We look like assholes, man.
Let me explain to him in simple arithmetic. One, two three! Because you don't ****in' get it, Burt! You give us the tapes, we get the record contract, we come back and give you your ****in' money. Have you heard the tapes? Have you even heard them? We're guaranteed a record deal. Our stuff is that good!
Now I get it. Now I understand. You want it to happen...but it's not going to happen. Because it's a Catch-22.
What the **** does that mean? What is a Catch-22, Burt?
Catch-22, gentlemen. Think about it.
You know what I'm thinking about, man? I'm thinking about kicking some ****in' ass!
