The 25th Hour Flashcards
(Monty sits on the red velvet sofa and Jakob lies down next to him, covering his eyes with his arm.)
I can’t believe you brought my student in here.
She’s cute, buddy. She talks too much but she’s cute.
You’re going to get me fired. Do you realize that? She’ll tell her friends, – and they’ll tell their friends –
So what, so you ran into her at a dance club. You haven’t done anything wrong, have you? Not yet.
Not yet? What does that mean?
You want this girl, don’t you?
Shit, Monty, she’s seventeen! She’s my student. I can’t touch her.
I would. She’s got that look. I like little girls with tatoos.
(Jakob groans and rubs his hand over his face)
It’s good seeing you, man. I guess we’ve kind of gone our seprate ways.
(Jakob sits up)
Yeah.
It’s too bad. You’re smarter than the people I know these days.
(Monty pours more champagne for Jakob and himself, then raises his glass.)
Make me a toast.
(Jakob is startled by the request)
You want me to make a toast?
Yeah. Come on, I won’t be seeing you for a while. Say something nice.
(Jakob stares at the tiny bubbles in his glass.)
Umm…
Alright. Here’s to Doyle.
To Doyle.
He’s your dog now.
Wait – what?
He needs a home. And he loves you.
Yeah, but… I don’t know. You’ve seen the size of my apartment.
Poor Doyle, he’ll live in a small apartment. Hey, he’s a tough dog. He’ll survive.
What about Nat?
She’s moving in with her mom. Woman hates him. And Doyle hates Frank. And my dad’s allergic.
The thing is –
(Monty takes another sip and then holds the champange flute up to the light.)
Crystal. They went all out for me, huh? I’m lucky to work for such caring people.
One more glass of this and I’m officially drunk.
Listen, this is important to me. Doyle is important to me. You understand that?
Yeah, of course.
Doyle’s the toughest guy I know. He was lying there off the highway when I found him, waiting to die. He knew he was going to die. And he didn’t make a sound. The best thing I ever did, my whole life, was rescue that black little son-of-a-bitch. Every day he’s had since then is because of me. Every time he runs through the park, that’s me. Every bone he chews – because of me. I saved him. And it’s different from what you’d expect, right? I saved him but I’m the one that’s grateful. Because I see him running around, I hear him barking, and there he is, the best thing I ever did, in the flesh.
(beat)
I’m not going to let the pound have him. Doyle’s the ugliest fucking dog in the five boroughs. Who’s gonna adopt him? And I’m telling you now, I will not let a vet stick a needle in him and end him. I saved his life, right? I’m responsible for him. I didn’t go through all that just so some vet can put him to sleep. If it comes to that, I’ll do it myself. I’ll put a bullet in his ear tonight. So I’m asking you, Jake – for me, as a favour for me, and it’s a big favour but I’m asking you – will you take him? Will you take him home with you?
(Jakob is quiet, rubbing his palms over the red velvet sofa cushions.)
You know what? It would be an honour.
I was hoping you would say that. I really was.
After that speech, jeez, how could I refuse?
