Ebook Gratuit

Auteurs(FR):
Guillaume Musso
Michel Bussi
Marc Levy
Françoise Bourdin
Laurent Gounelle
Gilles Legardinier
Franck Thilliez
Agnès Martin-Lugand
Maxime Chattam
Auteurs(BE):
Barbara Abel
Nadine Monfils
Thomas d’Ansembourg
Paul Colize
Pierre Kroll
Frédéric DuBus
Isabelle Bary
Patrick Weber
Amélie Nothomb
Ebook Gratuit
Auteurs(CH):
Joël Dicker
Michael Fehr
Friedrich Dürrenmatt
Charles Ferdinand Ramuz
Jean-Jacques Rousseau
Nicolas Bouvier
Max Frisch
Fritz Zorn
Alexandre Jollien
Jacques Chessex
Marc Voltenauer

Proust Madelaine

C’est ainsi que, pendant longtemps, quand, réveillé la nuit, je me ressouvenais de Combray, je n’en revis jamais que cette sorte de pan lumineux, découpé au milieu d’indistinctes ténèbres, pareil à ceux que l’embrasement d’un feu de bengale ou quelque projection électrique éclairent et sectionnent dans un édifice dont les autres parties restent plongées dans la nuit : à la base assez large, le petit salon, la salle à manger, l’amorce de l’allée obscure par où arriverait M. Swann, l’auteur inconscient de mes tristesses, le vestibule où je m’acheminais vers la première marche de l’escalier, si cruel à monter, qui constituait à lui seul le tronc fort étroit de cette pyramide irrégulière ; et, au faîte, ma chambre à coucher avec le petit couloir à porte vitrée pour l’entrée de maman ; en un mot, toujours vu à la même heure, isolé de tout ce qu’il pouvait y avoir autour, se détachant seul sur l’obscurité, le décor strictement nécessaire (comme celui qu’on voit indiqué en tête des vieilles pièces pour les représentations en province) au drame de mon déshabillage ; comme si Combray n’avait consisté qu’en deux étages reliés par un mince escalier et comme s’il n’y avait jamais été que sept heures du soir. À vrai dire, j’aurais pu répondre à qui m’eût interrogé que Combray comprenait encore autre chose et existait à d’autres heures. Mais comme ce que je m’en serais rappelé m’eût été fourni seulement par la mémoire volontaire, la mémoire de l’intelligence, et comme les renseignements qu’elle donne sur le passé ne conservent rien de lui, je n’aurais jamais eu envie de songer à ce reste de Combray. Tout cela était en réalité mort pour moi.

Mort à jamais ? C’était possible.

Il y a beaucoup de hasard en tout ceci, et un second hasard, celui de notre mort, souvent ne nous permet pas d’attendre longtemps les faveurs du premier.

Je trouve très raisonnable la croyance celtique que les âmes de ceux que nous avons perdus sont captives dans quelque être inférieur, dans une bête, un végétal, une chose inanimée, perdues en effet pour nous jusqu’au jour, qui pour beaucoup ne vient jamais, où nous nous trouvons passer près de l’arbre, entrer en possession de l’objet qui est leur prison. Alors elles tressaillent, nous appellent, et sitôt que nous les avons reconnues, l’enchantement est brisé. Délivrées par nous, elles ont vaincu la mort et reviennent vivre avec nous.

Il en est ainsi de notre passé. C’est peine perdue que nous cherchions à l’évoquer, tous les efforts de notre intelligence sont inutiles. Il est caché hors de son domaine et de sa portée, en quelque objet matériel (en la sensation que nous donnerait cet objet matériel) que nous ne soupçonnons pas. Cet objet, il dépend du hasard que nous le rencontrions avant de mourir, ou que nous ne le rencontrions pas.

Il y avait déjà bien des années que, de Combray, tout ce qui n’était pas le théâtre et le drame de mon coucher n’existait plus pour moi, quand un jour d’hiver, comme je rentrais à la maison, ma mère, voyant que j’avais froid, me proposa de me faire prendre, contre mon habitude, un peu de thé. Je refusai d’abord et, je ne sais pourquoi, je me ravisai. Elle envoya chercher un de ces gâteaux courts et dodus appelés Petites Madeleines qui semblaient avoir été moulés dans la valve rainurée d’une coquille de Saint-Jacques. Et bientôt, machinalement, accablé par la morne journée et la perspective d’un triste lendemain, je portai à mes lèvres une cuillerée du thé où j’avais laissé s’amollir un morceau de madeleine. Mais à l’instant même où la gorgée mêlée des miettes du gâteau toucha mon palais, je tressaillis, attentif à ce qui se passait d’extraordinaire en moi. Un plaisir délicieux m’avait envahi, isolé, sans la notion de sa cause. Il m’avait aussitôt rendu les vicissitudes de la vie indifférentes, ses désastres inoffensifs, sa brièveté illusoire, de la même façon qu’opère l’amour, en me remplissant d’une essence précieuse : ou plutôt cette essence n’était pas en moi, elle était moi. J’avais cessé de me sentir médiocre, contingent, mortel. D’où avait pu me venir cette puissante joie ? Je sentais qu’elle était liée au goût du thé et du gâteau, mais qu’elle le dépassait infiniment, ne devait pas être de même nature. D’où venait-elle ? Que signifiait-elle ? Où l’appréhender ? Je bois une seconde gorgée où je ne trouve rien de plus que dans la première, une troisième qui m’apporte un peu moins que la seconde. Il est temps que je m’arrête, la vertu du breuvage semble diminuer. Il est clair que la vérité que je cherche n’est pas en lui, mais en moi. Il l’y a éveillée, mais ne la connaît pas, et ne peut que répéter indéfiniment, avec de moins en moins de force, ce même témoignage que je ne sais pas interpréter et que je veux au moins pouvoir lui redemander et retrouver intact à ma disposition, tout à l’heure, pour un éclaircissement décisif. Je pose la tasse et me tourne vers mon esprit. C’est à lui de trouver la vérité. Mais comment ? Grave incertitude, toutes les fois que l’esprit se sent dépassé par lui-même ; quand lui, le chercheur, est tout ensemble le pays obscur où il doit chercher et où tout son bagage ne lui sera de rien. Chercher ? pas seulement : créer. Il est en face de quelque chose qui n’est pas encore et que seul il peut réaliser, puis faire entrer dans sa lumière.

Et je recommence à me demander quel pouvait être cet état inconnu, qui n’apportait aucune preuve logique mais l’évidence de sa félicité, de sa réalité devant laquelle les autres s’évanouissaient. Je veux essayer de le faire réapparaître. Je rétrograde par la pensée au moment où je pris la première cuillerée de thé. Je retrouve le même état, sans une clarté nouvelle. Je demande à mon esprit un effort de plus, de ramener encore une fois la sensation qui s’enfuit. Et, pour que rien ne brise l’élan dont il va tâcher de la ressaisir, j’écarte tout obstacle, toute idée étrangère, j’abrite mes oreilles et mon attention contre les bruits de la chambre voisine. Mais sentant mon esprit qui se fatigue sans réussir, je le force au contraire à prendre cette distraction que je lui refusais, à penser à autre chose, à se refaire avant une tentative suprême. Puis une deuxième fois, je fais le vide devant lui, je remets en face de lui la saveur encore récente de cette première gorgée et je sens tressaillir en moi quelque chose qui se déplace, voudrait s’élever, quelque chose qu’on aurait désancré, à une grande profondeur ; je ne sais ce que c’est, mais cela monte lentement ; j’éprouve la résistance et j’entends la rumeur des distances traversées.

Certes, ce qui palpite ainsi au fond de moi, ce doit être l’image, le souvenir visuel, qui, lié à cette saveur, tente de la suivre jusqu’à moi. Mais il se débat trop loin, trop confusément ; à peine si je perçois le reflet neutre où se confond l’insaisissable tourbillon des couleurs remuées ; mais je ne puis distinguer la forme, lui demander, comme au seul interprète possible, de me traduire le témoignage de sa contemporaine, de son inséparable compagne, la saveur, lui demander de m’apprendre de quelle circonstance particulière, de quelle époque du passé il s’agit.

Arrivera-t-il jusqu’à la surface de ma claire conscience, ce souvenir, l’instant ancien que l’attraction d’un instant identique est venue de si loin solliciter, émouvoir, soulever tout au fond de moi ? Je ne sais. Maintenant je ne sens plus rien, il est arrêté, redescendu peut-être ; qui sait s’il remontera jamais de sa nuit ? Dix fois il me faut recommencer, me pencher vers lui. Et chaque fois la lâcheté qui nous détourne de toute tâche difficile, de toute œuvre importante, m’a conseillé de laisser cela, de boire mon thé en pensant simplement à mes ennuis d’aujourd’hui, à mes désirs de demain qui se laissent remâcher sans peine.

Et tout d’un coup le souvenir m’est apparu. Ce goût, c’était celui du petit morceau de madeleine que le dimanche matin à Combray (parce que ce jour-là je ne sortais pas avant l’heure de la messe), quand j’allais lui dire bonjour dans sa chambre, ma tante Léonie m’offrait après l’avoir trempé dans son infusion de thé ou de tilleul. La vue de la petite madeleine ne m’avait rien rappelé avant que je n’y eusse goûté ; peut-être parce que, en ayant souvent aperçu depuis, sans en manger, sur les tablettes des pâtissiers, leur image avait quitté ces jours de Combray pour se lier à d’autres plus récents ; peut-être parce que, de ces souvenirs abandonnés si longtemps hors de la mémoire, rien ne survivait, tout s’était désagrégé ; les formes — et celle aussi du petit coquillage de pâtisserie, si grassement sensuel sous son plissage sévère et dévot — s’étaient abolies, ou, ensommeillées, avaient perdu la force d’expansion qui leur eût permis de rejoindre la conscience. Mais, quand d’un passé ancien rien ne subsiste, après la mort des êtres, après la destruction des choses, seules, plus frêles mais plus vivaces, plus immatérielles, plus persistantes, plus fidèles, l’odeur et la saveur restent encore longtemps, comme des âmes, à se rappeler, à attendre, à espérer, sur la ruine de tout le reste, à porter sans fléchir, sur leur gouttelette presque impalpable, l’édifice immense du souvenir.

Et dès que j’eus reconnu le goût du morceau de madeleine trempé dans le tilleul que me donnait ma tante (quoique je ne susse pas encore et dusse remettre à bien plus tard de découvrir pourquoi ce souvenir me rendait si heureux), aussitôt la vieille maison grise sur la rue, où était sa chambre, vint comme un décor de théâtre s’appliquer au petit pavillon donnant sur le jardin, qu’on avait construit pour mes parents sur ses derrières (ce pan tronqué que seul j’avais revu jusque-là) ; et avec la maison, la ville, la Place où on m’envoyait avant déjeuner, les rues où j’allais faire des courses depuis le matin jusqu’au soir et par tous les temps, les chemins qu’on prenait si le temps était beau. Et comme dans ce jeu où les Japonais s’amusent à tremper dans un bol de porcelaine rempli d’eau de petits morceaux de papier jusque-là indistincts qui, à peine y sont-ils plongés s’étirent, se contournent, se colorent, se différencient, deviennent des fleurs, des maisons, des personnages consistants et reconnaissables, de même maintenant toutes les fleurs de notre jardin et celles du parc de M. Swann, et les nymphéas de la Vivonne, et les bonnes gens du village et leurs petits logis et l’église et tout Combray et ses environs, tout cela qui prend forme et solidité, est sorti, ville et jardins, de ma tasse de thé.


II


Combray, de loin, à dix lieues à la ronde, vu du chemin de fer quand nous y arrivions la dernière semaine avant Pâques, ce n’était qu’une église résumant la ville, la représentant, parlant d’elle et pour elle aux lointains, et, quand on approchait, tenant serrés autour de sa haute mante sombre, en plein champ, contre le vent, comme une pastoure ses brebis, les dos laineux et gris des maisons rassemblées qu’un reste de remparts du moyen âge cernait çà et là d’un trait aussi parfaitement circulaire qu’une petite ville dans un tableau de primitif. À l’habiter, Combray était un peu triste, comme ses rues dont les maisons construites en pierres noirâtres du pays, précédées de degrés extérieurs, coiffées de pignons qui rabattaient l’ombre devant elles, étaient assez obscures pour qu’il fallût dès que le jour commençait

Proust Longtemps

Longtemps, je me suis couché de bonne heure. Parfois, à peine ma bougie éteinte, mes yeux se fermaient si vite que je n’avais pas le temps de me dire : « Je m’endors. » Et, une demi-heure après, la pensée qu’il était temps de chercher le sommeil m’éveillait ; je voulais poser le volume que je croyais avoir encore dans les mains et souffler ma lumière ; je n’avais pas cessé en dormant de faire des réflexions sur ce que je venais de lire, mais ces réflexions avaient pris un tour un peu particulier ; il me semblait que j’étais moi-même ce dont parlait l’ouvrage : une église, un quatuor, la rivalité de François Ier et de Charles-Quint. Cette croyance survivait pendant quelques secondes à mon réveil ; elle ne choquait pas ma raison, mais pesait comme des écailles sur mes yeux et les empêchait de se rendre compte que le bougeoir n’était pas allumé. Puis elle commençait à me devenir inintelligible, comme après la métempsycose les pensées d’une existence antérieure ; le sujet du livre se détachait de moi, j’étais libre de m’y appliquer ou non ; aussitôt je recouvrais la vue et j’étais bien étonné de trouver autour de moi une obscurité, douce et reposante pour mes yeux, mais peut-être plus encore pour mon esprit, à qui elle apparaissait comme une chose sans cause, incompréhensible, comme une chose vraiment obscure. Je me demandais quelle heure il pouvait être ; j’entendais le sifflement des trains qui, plus ou moins éloigné, comme le chant d’un oiseau dans une forêt, relevant les distances, me décrivait l’étendue de la campagne déserte où le voyageur se hâte vers la station prochaine ; et le petit chemin qu’il suit va être gravé dans son souvenir par l’excitation qu’il doit à des lieux nouveaux, à des actes inaccoutumés, à la causerie récente et aux adieux sous la lampe étrangère qui le suivent encore dans le silence de la nuit, à la douceur prochaine du retour.

J’appuyais tendrement mes joues contre les belles joues de l’oreiller qui, pleines et fraîches, sont comme les joues de notre enfance. Je frottais une allumette pour regarder ma montre. Bientôt minuit. C’est l’instant où le malade qui a été obligé de partir en voyage et a dû coucher dans un hôtel inconnu, réveillé par une crise, se réjouit en apercevant sous la porte une raie de jour. Quel bonheur ! c’est déjà le matin ! Dans un moment les domestiques seront levés, il pourra sonner, on viendra lui porter secours. L’espérance d’être soulagé lui donne du courage pour souffrir. Justement il a cru entendre des pas ; les pas se rapprochent, puis s’éloignent. Et la raie de jour qui était sous sa porte a disparu. C’est minuit ; on vient d’éteindre le gaz ; le dernier domestique est parti et il faudra rester toute la nuit à souffrir sans remède.

Je me rendormais, et parfois je n’avais plus que de courts réveils d’un instant, le temps d’entendre les craquements organiques des boiseries, d’ouvrir les yeux pour fixer le kaléidoscope de l’obscurité, de goûter grâce à une lueur momentanée de conscience le sommeil où étaient plongés les meubles, la chambre, le tout dont je n’étais qu’une petite partie et à l’insensibilité duquel je retournais vite m’unir. Ou bien en dormant j’avais rejoint sans effort un âge à jamais révolu de ma vie primitive, retrouvé telle de mes terreurs enfantines comme celle que mon grand-oncle me tirât par mes boucles et qu’avait dissipée le jour — date pour moi d’une ère nouvelle — où on les avait coupées. J’avais oublié cet événement pendant mon sommeil, j’en retrouvais le souvenir aussitôt que j’avais réussi à m’éveiller pour échapper aux mains de mon grand-oncle, mais par mesure de précaution j’entourais complètement ma tête de mon oreiller avant de retourner dans le monde des rêves.

Quelquefois, comme Ève naquit d’une côte d’Adam, une femme naissait pendant mon sommeil d’une fausse position de ma cuisse. Formée du plaisir que j’étais sur le point de goûter, je m’imaginais que c’était elle qui me l’offrait. Mon corps qui sentait dans le sien ma propre chaleur voulait s’y rejoindre, je m’éveillais. Le reste des humains m’apparaissait comme bien lointain auprès de cette femme que j’avais quittée, il y avait quelques moments à peine ; ma joue était chaude encore de son baiser, mon corps courbaturé par le poids de sa taille. Si, comme il arrivait quelquefois, elle avait les traits d’une femme que j’avais connue dans la vie, j’allais me donner tout à ce but : la retrouver, comme ceux qui partent en voyage pour voir de leurs yeux une cité désirée et s’imaginent qu’on peut goûter dans une réalité le charme du songe. Peu à peu son souvenir s’évanouissait, j’avais oublié la fille de mon rêve.

Un homme qui dort tient en cercle autour de lui le fil des heures, l’ordre des années et des mondes. Il les consulte d’instinct en s’éveillant, et y lit en une seconde le point de la terre qu’il occupe, le temps qui s’est écoulé jusqu’à son réveil ; mais leurs rangs peuvent se mêler, se rompre. Que vers le matin, après quelque insomnie, le sommeil le prenne en train de lire, dans une posture trop différente de celle où il dort habituellement, il suffit de son bras soulevé pour arrêter et faire reculer le soleil, et à la première minute de son réveil, il ne saura plus l’heure, il estimera qu’il vient à peine de se coucher. Que s’il s’assoupit dans une position encore plus déplacée et divergente, par exemple après dîner assis dans un fauteuil, alors le bouleversement sera complet dans les mondes désorbités, le fauteuil magique le fera voyager à toute vitesse dans le temps et dans l’espace, et au moment d’ouvrir les paupières, il se croira couché quelques mois plus tôt dans une autre contrée. Mais il suffisait que, dans mon lit même, mon sommeil fût profond et détendît entièrement mon esprit ; alors celui-ci lâchait le plan du lieu où je m’étais endormi, et quand je m’éveillais au milieu de la nuit, comme j’ignorais où je me trouvais, je ne savais même pas au premier instant qui j’étais ; j’avais seulement dans sa simplicité première le sentiment de l’existence comme il peut frémir au fond d’un animal ; j’étais plus dénué que l’homme des cavernes ; mais alors le souvenir — non encore du lieu où j’étais, mais de quelques-uns de ceux que j’avais habités et où j’aurais pu être — venait à moi comme un secours d’en haut pour me tirer du néant d’où je n’aurais pu sortir tout seul ; je passais en une seconde par-dessus des siècles de civilisation, et l’image confusément entrevue de lampes à pétrole, puis de chemises à col rabattu, recomposaient peu à peu les traits originaux de mon moi.

It (2017)

It/Pennywise[編集]
[as a leper, holding one of Eddie's medical pills] Do you think this will help me, Eddie?
Where you going, Eds? If you lived here, you'd be home by now. Come join the clown, Eds. You'll float down here. We all float down here. Yes, we do! [laughs]
[as a leper] Eddie... What are you looking for?
[to Eddie] Tasty, tasty, beautiful fear!
This isn't real enough for you, Billy? I'm not real enough for you? It was real enough for Georgie!
[to Richie] Beep beep, Richie.
[to Beverly, via speaker] Step right up, Beverly! Step right up! Come change! Come float! You'll laugh, you'll cry! You'll cheer, you'll die! Introducing Pennywise the Dancing Clown!
[to the Losers Club, about Bill] No! I'll take him! I'll take all of you! And I'll feast on your flesh as I feed on your fear... Or... you'll just leave us be. I will take him. Only him. And I will have my long rest, and you will all live to grow and thrive and lead happy lives, until old age takes you back to the weeds.
[as a leper, having one of Eddie’s pills on its tongue] Time to take your pill, Eddie!
[to Beverly, using the face of her abusive father] Hey, Bevvie. Are you still my little girl?
[last words] Fear...
[to Eddie] Time to float!
Bill Denbrough[編集]
What happens when another Georgie goes missing? Or another Betty? Or one of us? Are you just going to pretend it didn’t happen, like everyone else in this town?
If we stick together, all of us, we'll win. I promise.
He thrusts his fists against the post, and still insists he sees the ghost.
[to It/Pennywise] That’s why you didn’t kill Beverly...because she wasn’t afraid. We aren’t either. Not anymore. Now you’re the one who’s afraid. Because you’re gonna starve.
Swear... Swear if It isn't dead... if It ever comes back... we'll come back, too.
[To the losers club] If you say summer one more f-f-f-fucking time
Beverly Marsh[編集]
I want to run towards something! Not away!
We were all together when we saw it! That’s why we’re still alive!
I need to show you something.
You see it too, my dad couldn't see it. I thought that I might be crazy.
Ben Hanscom[編集]
Derry is not like any town I've been in before. People die or disappear six times the national average. And that's just grown ups. Kids are worse. Way, way worse.
Your hair is winter fire, january ambers. My heart burns there too.
Eddie Kaspbrak[編集]
They're gazebos! They're bullshit!
Have you ever heard of a staph infection!
Mike Hanlon[編集]
My grandfather thinks this town is cursed. That all the bad things that happen in this town are because of one thing. An evil thing.
Richie Tozier[編集]
Doesn't smell like caca to me señor.
I can't believe I pulled the short straw. You guys are lucky we're not measuring dicks.
Can only virgins see this stuff? Is that why I'm not seeing this shit?
[referring to Beverly] I'm sorry, who invited Molly Ringwald into the group?
[referring to Ben] And look at this motherfucker! He's leaking Hamburger Helper!
[to Ben] I'm glad I got to meet you before you died.
[to Henry Bowers] Go blow your dad, you mullet-wearing asshole!
You know the Barrens aren't that bad. Who doesn't love splashing around in shitty water?
[to Bill] I told you, Bill. I fucking told you. I don't wanna die. It's your fault. You punched me in the face, you made me walk through shitty water, you dragged me into a fucking crackhead house! And now...[grabs a nearby bat]...I'm gonna have to kill this fucking clown. [to It/Pennywise] Welcome to the Losers' Club, asshole! [attacks him with the bat]
Stanley Uris[編集]
It's summer! We're supposed to be having fun! This isn't fun, it's scary and disgusting.
Uh- reflecting on what I just read [about the Torah.], I like what it says about indifference. Well, when you're a kid, you think the universe revolves around you, that you'll always be protected and cared for. That you'll always have the same friends as when you were 12. Then, one day, something bad happens and you realize that's not true. You wake up suddenly not caring about lives outside your own, nothing going on outside of your front door matters anymore. You separate yourself from anything that might matter to you. Neighbors, your family, your friends. But when you're alone as a kid, the monsters see you as weaker, and they start to come for you, and you don't even notice they're getting closer until it's too late. So they attack you before you find the truth about what's happening. If any of you opened your eyes, if you really cared, you would see what we're going through. I guess, indifference, is a part of growing up. Becoming an adult, isn't about being able to vote, or being able to drink, or drive. Becoming an adult, according to the holy scripture, in Derry, is learning not to give a shit.
No! No next time, Bill! You're insane!
I'm a loser and no matter what, I always fucking will be.
Dialogue[編集]
Pennywise: [from inside a sewer grate] Hiya, Georgie! [pause] What a nice boat. Do you want it back?
Georgie: Um... Yes, please.
Pennywise: You look like a nice boy. I bet you have a lot of friends.
Georgie: Three... but my brother is my bestest.
Pennywise: Where is he?
Georgie: In bed. Sick.
Pennywise: I bet I could cheer him up. I'll give him a balloon. Do you want a balloon too, Georgie?
Georgie: I'm not supposed to take things from strangers.
Pennywise: Oh! Well, I'm Pennywise the Dancing Clown! "Pennywise?" "Yes?" "Meet Georgie. Georgie, meet Pennywise." [Georgie laughs] Now we aren't strangers. Are we?
Georgie: What are you doing in the sewer?
Pennywise: Oh, a storm blew me away. Blew the whole circus away. [chuckles] Can you smell the circus, Georgie? There's peanuts... cotton candy... hot dogs... and...?
Georgie: Popcorn?
Pennywise: Popcorn! Is that your favorite?
Georgie: Uh-huh.
Pennywise: Mine, too! [laughs] Because they pop! Pop, pop! Pop, pop! Pop, pop, pop!
[they both laugh, but then Pennywise's smile fades, and he stares at Georgie hungrily. Georgie starts to feel uneasy]
Georgie: Um... I should get going now.
Pennywise: Oh! W-Without your boat? You don't wanna lose it, Georgie. Bill is gonna kill you. Here. Take it. [pause] Take it, Georgie.
[as soon as Georgie starts to reach for the paper boat, It/Pennywise grabs Georgie's right arm and opens his mouth, revealing several rows of sharp teeth, bites Georgie's arm and rips it off. Georgie cries, screams, and attempts to crawl away while bleeding. It/Pennywise then grabs Georgie and drags him into the sewer]
Georgie: BILLY!
Eddie: Hey, guys. What do you wanna do tomorrow?
Richie: I start my training.
Eddie: Well, what training?
Richie: Street Fighter.
Eddie: Is that how you wanna spend your summer? Inside an arcade?
Richie: Beats spending it inside your mother.
Richie: [opens a cabinet full of medicine and pills] Hey, Eddie? Are these birth control pills?
Eddie: Yeah, I'm saving them for your sister. This is private stuff!
Sonia Kaspbrak: Aren't you forgetting something?
[Eddie sighs and reluctantly walks over to kiss her on the cheek]
[Richie snorts trying not to laugh. Bill hits him on the chest, signalling to him to shut up]
Richie: Do you want one from me too, Mrs. K? I was—
[Eddie shoves him and Bill out the door]
Richie: You guys comin'?
Eddie: Uh uh. It’s gray water!
Richie: What the hell is "gray water"?
Eddie: It's basically ...piss and shit, so I'm just tellin' you!
Richie: [about the rumors about Beverly] I hear the list is longer than my wang.
Stanley: That's not saying much.
Ben: Derry started as a beaver trapping camp.
Richie: Still is! Am I right, boys?
"Georgie": I lost it, Billy. Don't be mad.
Bill: I'm n-not mad at you.
"Georgie": It just floated off...but, Bill? If you'll come with me, you'll float, too.
Bill: Georgie?
"Georgie": You'll float, too. You'll float, too. You'll float, too. You'll float, too. You'll float, too! You'll float, too! You'll float, too! You'll float, too! ["Georgie"’s voice deepens] YOU'LL FLOAT, TOO! YOU'LL FLOAT, TOO! YOU'LL FLOAT, TOO! YOU'LL FLOAT, TOO!
Pennywise: [drags “Georgie” into the water] YOU'LL FLOAT, TOO!
Eddie: Okay, so let me get this straight. It comes out from wherever to eat kids for like, a year, and then what? It just goes into hibernation?
Stanley: Maybe it's like, what do you call it... Cicadas? You know, the bugs that come out in every 17 years.
Mike: My grandfather thinks this town is cursed. He says that, all the bad things that happen in this town are because of one thing. An evil thing that feeds off the people of Derry.
Stanley: But it can't be one thing. We all saw something different.
Mike: Maybe. Or maybe it knows what scares us the most, and that's what we see.
Eddie: I saw a leper. He was like a walking infection.
Stanley: But you didn't. Because it isn't real. None of this is. Not Eddie's leper, or Bill seeing Georgie, or the woman I keep seeing.
Richie: Is she hot?
Stanley: No, Richie! She's not hot! Her face is all messed up. None of this makes any sense. They're all like bad dreams.
Mike: I don't think so. I know the difference between a bad dream and real life, okay?
Eddie: What'd you see? You saw something too?
Mike: Yes. You guys know that burned down house on Harris Avenue? I was inside when it burned down. Before I was rescued, my mom and dad were trapped in the next room over from me, they were... pushing and pounding on the door... trying to get to me. But it was too hot. When the firemen finally found them, the skin on their hands had melted down to the bone. We're all afraid of something.
Ben: You got that right.
Eddie: All right, Rich, what are you scared of?
Richie: Clowns.
Beverly: I need to show you something.
Richie: More than we saw at the quarry?
Bill: [to Richie] S-S-Stay here.
Richie: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! What if her dad comes back?
Stanley: Do what you always do: start talking! [the others Losers, except Richie, all go to Beverly's apartment]
Richie: It is a gift!
Bill: We like hanging with you.
Beverly: [smiling] Thanks.
Bill: You shouldn't thank us too much. Hanging with us makes you a loser, too.
Beverly: [still smiling] I think I can live with that.
TV Hostess: And this is my most favourite part of the afternoon. Getting to know all about so many of you. Is there someone here that wants to share with us what they most enjoyed about today?
Girl: Me!
TV Hostess: How about you?
Girl: I liked seeing the clown.
TV Hostess: You did? You liked the clown?
Children: Yes!
TV Hostess: What about the rest of you?
Boy: I liked when the bubbles float.
TV Hostess: You did? Me too! I just love watching things float.
Children: We all float!
TV Hostess: That's right! And you will, too, Henry. Make it a wonderful day. Kill him!
Hostess & Children: Kill him. Kill him. Kill him! Kill him! Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!
[Henry stabs his father in the throat with his switchblade]
TV Narrator: Oh, no! Give him a big round of applause!
Children: Yay!
[Henry holds his struggling father back as he bleeds out]
TV Hostess: Well done, Henry!
Pennywise, Hostess, & Children: Kill them all! Kill them all! Kill them all! Kill them all! Kill them all! Kill them all! Kill them all! KILL THEM ALL! KILL THEM ALL! KILL THEM ALL!
Beverly: I'm not afraid of you.
Pennywise: [sniffs at Beverly briefly, then turns away and starts glaring at her] You will be.
Bill: Georgie...
"Georgie": What took you so long?
Bill: I was l-looking for you this whole time.
"Georgie": I couldn't find my way out of here. He said I could have my boat back, Billy.
Bill: Was she f-fast?
"Georgie": I couldn't keep up with it.
Bill: 'She', Georgie. You call boats 'she'.
"Georgie": Take me home, Billy. [starts crying] I wanna go home! I miss you, I wanna be with Mom and Dad!
Bill: [crying] I want more than anything for you to be home. With Mom, and Dad...I miss you so much!
"Georgie": I love you, Billy.
Bill: I love you too... [pulls out bolt gun and points it at "Georgie”’s head] But you're not Georgie.
Taglines[編集]
It Takes Many Forms
You'll float too.
What are you afraid of?
Cast[編集]
Jaeden Lieberher - William "Bill" Denbrough
Bill Skarsgård - It / Pennywise the Dancing Clown
Wyatt Oleff - Stanley "Stan" Uris
Jeremy Ray Taylor - Benjamin "Ben" Hanscom
Sophia Lillis - Beverly "Bev" Marsh
Finn Wolfhard - Richard "Richie" Tozier
Jack Dylan Grazer - Edward "Eddie" Kaspbrak
Chosen Jacobs - Michael "Mike" Hanlon
Nicholas Hamilton - Henry Bowers
Jackson Robert Scott - George "Georgie" Denbrough

It (2017)

Sure I will not
get into trouble, Bill?
Don't be a wu-wu-wuss.
I'd come with you
if I weren't... dying.
You're not dying!
You didn't see the v-v-vomit
coming out of my nose this morning?
That's disgusting.
Ok, go get the wax.
In the cellar?
You want to fl-fl-float, dont' you?
Fine.
Hurry up.
Ok, don't worry.
Where is the wax?
There it is.
Yes.
What was that?
What is that?
Alright.
There you go.
Sh-sh-she's all ready, captain.
She?
You always call a b-boat, she.
She?
Thanks, Billy.
See you later.
Bye.
Be careful.
No!
No!
Bill's gonna kill me.
Hiya Georgie.
What a nice boat...
Do you want it back?
Yes please.
You look like a nice boy.
I bet you have a lot of friends.
Three,
but my brother is the bestest.
Where's he?
In bed... sick.
I bet I could cheer him up.
I'll give him a balloon.
Do you want a
balloon too Georgie?
I'm not supposed to take
stuff from strangers.
Oh well, I'm Pennywised,
dancing clown.
Pennywise yes meet Georgie.
Georgie meet Pennywise.
Now we are not strangers,
are we?
What are you doing in the sewer?
A storm blew me away.
Blew the whole circus away.
Can you smell the circus,
Georgie?
There are peanuts,
cotton candy...
Hot dogs...
annnnnnd...
Popcorn?
Popcorn!
Is that your favorite?
- Uh huh.
- Mine too!
Because they pop.
Pop, pop, pop.
Pop, pop, pop.
Pop!
I should get going now.
Without your boat?
You don't want to lose it Georgie.
Bill's gonna kill you.
Here.
Take it.
Take it, Georgie.
Help!
Billy!
Pull it, Mike.
Go on now, pull it.
Here, reload it.
You need to start takin' more
responsibility around here, Mike.
Your dad was younger
than you when...
I'm not my dad, okay?
Yeah.
Look at me, son.
Look at me!
There are two places you
can be in this world.
You can be here like us
or you can be there...
Like them.
If you waste your time
hemming and hawing,
then someone else is gonna
make that choice for you.
Except you wont know it until
you feel that bolt between your eyes.
There is a church full of Jews.
And Stan has to take
the super Jew-y test.
But how does it work?
They slice the tip of his dick off.
But then you'll have nothing left!
- It is true.
- Wait, you guys!
Hey, Stan, what happens at
the mitzvah anyways?
Ed says you slice the
tip of the d-d-d-dick off.
Yes, Rabbi's gonna
pull down your pants.
And he will tell the crowd:
"Where's the beef?".
At he bar mitzvah,
I read from the Torah...
and then I make a speech,
and suddenly I become a man.
There's more funner
ways to become a man.
"More fun ways", you mean.
Shit.
Do you think they'll
sign my yearbook?
"Dear Richie...
sorry for taking a hot, steaming
dump in your backpack last month.
"Have a good summer".
Are you in there by
yourself, Beaver-ly.
Or do you have half the guys in
the school with you, huh slut?
I know you're in there,
you little shit, I can smell you.
No wonder you don't
have any friends.
Which is it, Greta?
Am I a slut or a little shit.
Make up your mind.
You're trash.
We just wanted to remind you.
Such a loser.
At least now you'll smell better.
Oh Gross.
Let's go girls.
Have a nice summer,
Beaver-ly.
Pathetic.
The best feeling ever.
Yeah?
Try tickling your pickle
for the first time.
What do you guys
wanna do tomorrow?
I start my training.
- What training?
- Street Fighter.
Is that how you want to spend
your summer, stuck in an arcade.
Better than inside your mother.
What if we go the the quarry?
Guys, we can g-go to the barrens.
Right.
Betty Ripsom's mom.
Does she really expect to see
her coming out of the school?
I don't know.
As if Betty Ripsom's been hiding
in HomeEc for the last few weeks.
Do you think they'll actually find her?
Sure.
In a ditch. All decomposed, covered
in worms and maggots, smelling...
like Eddie's mom's underwear.
Shut up!
Gross.
She's not dead.
She m-m-m-missing.
Sorry Bill, she's missing.
You know the barrens
aren't that bad.
Who doesn't love splashing
around in shitty water.
Nice frisbee, flamer.
Give it back.
Fuckin' losers.
Loser.
You s-s-s-suck, Bowers.
Shut up, Bill.
Did you s-s-s-say
something, B-b-b-b-Billy.
You got a free ride this year
cuz of your little brother.
Ride's over, Denbrough.
This summer its gonna be a hurt-train,
for you and your faggot friends.
I wish he'd go missing.
He's probably the one doing it.
Will you let me go by?
Or is there a secret
password or something?
- Sorry.
- Sorry is not...
Password.
Henry and his goons are
over by the west entrance.
So you should be fine.
I wasn't...
Everyone knows he's
looking for you.
Whatchu listening to?
New Kids on the Block.
I don't even like them,
I was just.
Wait. You're the new kid, right?
Now I get it.
There's nothing to get.
I'm just messing with you.
I'm Beverly Marsh.
I know that because
we're in the same class.
Social Studies.
And you were...
I'm Ben. But almost
everyone calls me...
The new kid.
Well, Ben,
there are worse things to be called.
Let me sign this.
Stay cool,
Ben from Soc class.
Yeah.
You too, Beverly.
Hang tough,
new kid on the block.
"Please don't go girl."
That's the name of another
New Kids on the Block song.
He thrusts his fists
against the post.
He thrusts his fists against the...
Shit.
P-p-post.
Need some help?
I thought we agreed.
- Before you say anything...
- Bill.
Let me show you
something first.
The barrens.
It is the only place where
Georgie could have ended.
He's gone, Bill.
But if the storm swept Georgie in,
we should have gone...
HE'S GONE, HE'S DEAD!
He's dead!
There is nothing we can do! Nothing!
Now take this down before
your mother sees it.
Next time you want to take
something from my office...
Ask.
I guess you get
your tunnels back.
Get in.
Oh, Jesus.
Mike.
Hurry up, son!
Help!
I'm burning!
Mike.
Stay the fuck out of my town!
Mike?
Are you okay, son?
You're not studying, Stanley.
How's it gonna look...
The rabbi's son can't finish
his own Torah reading.
Take the book to my office.
Obviously you're not using it.
Take everything but the
delicious deals, guys.
My mom loves them.
Hey, first you said the barrens
and now you're saying the sewer.
I mean, if we get caught?
We won't, Eds.
The sewers are public works.
We are the public, aren't we?
Eddie, are these your
birth control pills?
Yes, I'm saving it for your sister.
This is private stuff.
Hello, welcome to The
Children's Hour Derry.
Eddie, dear,
where you boys off to in such a rush?
Our word of the day is "clown".
They know what it means!
Uhm, just m-m-my backyard,
Mrs. K.
I got a new...
A new croquet set.
Jeez spit it out blubber Bill.
Okay.
Oh and sweetie,
don't go rolling around in the grass,
especially if it's just been cut.
You know how bad your
allergies can get.
Yes mom.
Come on.
Aren't you forgetting something?
Water surrounds us.
Even it is upon us.
They do not believe me?
Try it at home.
Whenever you are outside...
Do you want
one from me too, Mrs. K?
No.
Sorry mom.
"Your hair is winter fire,
January embers...
"My heart burns there too."
Slower!
Hi-yo Silver awaaay!
Let's move on!
Your old lady bike's too fast for us.
Found it.
Isn't it summer vacation?
I'd think you'd be ready to
take a break from the books.
I like it in here.
A boy should be spending his
summer outside with his friends.
Don't you have any friends?
Can I have the book now?
Egg boy!
What on Earth are you doing?
Where you off to, Tits?
Got ya!
Wait.
- Hold him.
- Leave me alone!
- Hit him.
- You will not escape.
Help!
Hold him!
- Hold him, Hockstetter.
- Grab him, Belch.
- Leave me alone.
- Look all that blubber.
I'm gonna light his hair
like Michael Jackson.
Hold him.
Get off me, get off me.
Help!
Help!
Okay, new kid.
This is why us locals call
this the kissing bridge.
It's for two things: Sucking face...
and cutting names.
Henry, please.
Stop! Henry!
Shut up!
I'm gonna carve my whole
name into his cottage cheese.
I'm gonna cut your fucking tits off.
I swear to god!
Get him!
Come on!
Get him!
You can't run!
- No.
- We must find the fatso.
My knife.
My old man will kill me!
- You two, get him!
- Come on!
Move your fucking ass!
Go that way.
He's down there.
I don't know.
I guess.
That's poison ivy.
And that's poison ivy.
And that's poison ivy.
Where?
Where's the poison ivy?
No where, not every fucking
plant is poison ivy, Stanley.
Ok well I'm starting to get itchy now
and I'm pretty sure
this is not good for me.
Do you use the same
bathroom as your mother?
Sometimes, yeah.
Then you probably have crabs.
That's so NOT funny.
Aren't you guys coming in?
Uhuh that's gray water.
What the hell is gray water?
It's basically piss and shit.
So I'm just telling you...
You guys are splashing around in
millions of gallons of Derry pee.
Are, are you serious?
Doesn't smell like caca to me, Senor.
O-o-okay I can smell it from here.
It's probably just your breath
wafting back into your face.
Have you ever heard
of a staph infection?
I'll show you a "staff" infection.
That's so unsanitary.
These...
you guys are like swimming
in a toilet bowl right now.
Have you ever
heard of listeria?
Are you retarded?
You're the reason we're
in this situation.
Guys!
Shit.
Don't tell me that's...
No.
Georgie was wearing galoshes.
Who's sneaker is it?
It's Betty Ripsoms.
Shit!
Shit, oh god, oh fuck
I don't like this.
How do you think Betty feels...
Going around these tunnels
with only one fucking shoe.
What if she's still here?
Eddie, come on!
My mom will have an aneurysm if she
finds out we were playing down here.
I'm serious.
Bill?
If I were Betty Ripsom,
I would want us to find me.
Georgie too.
What if I don't want to find them?
I mean, no offense, Bill,
but I do not want to end up like...
I don't want to go missing either.
- He has a point.
- You too?
It's summer...
We're supposed
to be having fun.
This isn't funny.
This is scary and disgusting.
Holy shit,
what happened to you?
I hear you, tits.
Don't think you can stay
down here all damn day.
You found us, Patrick.
You found us, Patrick
Patrick.
Fuck.
I think it's great that
we're helping the new kid
but we also need to think
about our own safety.
I mean, he's bleeding all over
and you guys know there's an AIDS
epidemic happening right now as we speak
I mean my mom's friend
in New York City
got it just by touching a
dirty pole in the subway
and she got AIDS blood into her
system through a hangnail, a hangnail!
And they can amputate legs and arms.
But how do you amputate waist?
You know that there are alleys full
of AIDS infected needles, right?
You. Know that.
Richie, wait here.
Come on.
Glad I got to meet
you before you died.
Good.
Can we afford all that?
It's all we got.
You kidding me?
Wait, you have an
account here don't you?
If my mom finds out I bought
all this stuff for myself,
I'll spend the whole rest of
the week in the emergency room.
See you later, dad.
See ya, Greta.
You okay?
I'm fine,
what's wrong with you?
None of your business.
New kid outside looks
like someone killed him.
We need some s-s-s-supplies
but we don't have
enough money.
I like your glasses, Mr. Keene.
You look just like Clark Kent.
I don't know about that.
Can I try them on?
Sure.
What do you think?
Well how about that,
you look just like Lois Lane.
Really?
Well, here you go.
Shoot, I'm so sorry.
It's okay.
Just suck the wound.
I need to focus right now.
You need to focus?
Yeah, can you go
get me something?
Jesus.
Oh, what do you need?
Go get my bifocals,
they're in my second fanny pack.
Why do you have two fanny pack?
I need to focus right now,
it's a long story.
I don't want to hear it.
Uhmm, th-th-thanks.
Even Steven.
Oh god, he's bleeding.
Ben from Soc?
You have to suck the wound
before you apply the bandage.
It's basic.
You dont know what
you're talking about?
Are you okay,
that looks like it hurts.
No, I'm good.
I just fell.
Yeah, right into Henry Bowers.
Shut it, R-R-Richie!
Why?
It's the truth.
You sure they got
"The Right Stuff" to fix you up?
You know w-w-w-w-we'll
take care of him.
Thanks again, Beverly.
Sure,
maybe I'll see you around.
Yeah, we were maybe thinking about
going to the q-q-q-quarry tomorrow,
if you wanna...
Come?
Good to Know.
Thanks.
Nice going,
bringing up Bowers in front of her.
Yeah,
did you hear what she did?
What'd she do?
More what could she do...
I heard that the list
is longer than my wang.
That's not saying much.
They're j-j-just rumors.
Anyway, Bill had her
back in third grade.
They kissed in the school play.
The reviews said that you can't
fake that kind of passion.
Now, pip pip and tally-ho
my good fellows,
I do believe this chap
requires our utmost attention.
Now get in there Dr. K and fix him up!
Why don't you shut the fuck up,
Einstein, because I know what I'm doing
and I don't want you
doing the British guy.
Suck the wound. Get in there.
Toilet and tub water travels
down drains into sewers.
Culverts are fun to play
with all your friends.
Just keep the water into
drains and sewers reach.
When you are there with friends,
you can have fun like a clown!
That's right, it is
the word of the day.
Hi daddy.
Hey Bevvie.
What you got there?
Just some things.
Like what?
Tell me you're still my little girl.
Yes daddy.
Good.
A high ball to the left.
His last batting.
He brushed the post.
Wade Booggs, of course,
leads the league in such long shots.
This is what you did. This is what...
Do it!
Oh my god!
- Piece of cake.
- Poor tree.
So easy!
Oh my god, that was terrible. I win.
You won?
Yeah.
You see my loogie, it
went the farthest.
It's about distance. It's mass.
What is mass?
It doesn't matter how far it goes.
It's how cool it looks,
and it's green or it's white.
Alright.
Who's first?
I'll go.
Sissies!
What the fuck?
Ahhh, holy shit,
we just got shown off by a girl.
We have to do that now?
Yes.
Come on!
Oh shit!
I already won! Already we won!
They fell! Yes!
Oh, shit! W-w-w-wait, wait, wait.
- Ah fuck! What was that?
- It just touched my foot.
Does that work?
- Where?
- Here.
It's a turtle.
News flash, Ben,
School's out for summa.
Oh that, that's not school stuff.
- Who sent you this?
- No one.
No one.
What's with the history project?
Oh well, when I first moved here,
I really didn't have anyone to hang out with
so I just started spending
time in the library.
You went to the library?
On purpose?
I wanna see.
What's the Black Spot?
The Black Spot was a nightclub
that was burned down years ago by
that racist cult.
The what?
Don't you watch Geraldo?
Y-y-y-y-your hair...
Your hair looks beautiful. Beverly.
Oh, hey thanks.
Here, pass.
Why's it all murders and missing kids?
Derry's not like any town
I've ever been in before.
They did a study once...
it turns out people die or disappear
six times the national average.
You read that?
Not just grown-ups.
Kids are like worse
way, way worse.
I've got more stuff,
if you want to see it.
Do not freak out, just tell us.
Yes. I heard he has a roller
coaster and a chimpanzee...
and the bones of an old man. Yes.
Heavens.
Woah, woah, woah, wow!
Cool, huh?
No, nothing cool.
There's nothing cool.
Well this is cool, wait, no it's not.
What's that?
That? That's the charter
for Derry Township.
Nerd alert.
Actually, it's really interesting.
Derry started as a
beaver trapping camp.
Still is, am I right, boys?
Ninety-one people signed
the charter that made Derry.
But later that winter,
they all disappeared without a trace.
The entire camp?
There were rumors of Indians...
but no sign of an attack.
Everyone thought it was
a plague or something.
But it's like...
one day everybody just
woke up and left.
The only clue was a trail of
clothes leading to the well-house.
Jesus, we can go on
"Unsolved Mysteries".
- Let's do it. You are brilliant.
- Maybe.
I don't know.
Maybe he's just trying to make friends,
Stanley.
Where was the well house?
I don't know, somewhere
in town, I guess.
Why?
Nothing.
Nobody knows the trouble I've
seen no one knows my pain
Eddie...
What are you looking for?
Fuck. My mom will kill me.
Do you think this will help me, Eddie?
Help!
Where are you going, Eds?
If you lived here, you'd
be home right now.
Come join the clown, Eds.
You'll float down here.
We all float down here,
yes we do.
"Your hair is winter fire...
"January embers..."
"My heart burns there too."
Beverly...
Beverly.
Help me.
Please help me.
We all want to meet you, Beverly.
All we float down here.
Hello? Who you are?
- I'm Veronica.
- Betty Rapsom.
Patrick Hockstetter.
Come closer.
- You want to see?
- We float.
We changed.
Daddy!
Help!
Help!
What the hell's goin' on?
The sink...
There's blood, it's...
What blood?
The sink, you don't see it?
There was blood.
You worry me, Bevvie.
You worry me a lot.
But you don't see?
Why'd you do this to your hair?
Makes you look like a boy.
I lost it, Billy. Don't be mad.
I'm not mad at you.
Just floated off.
But, Bill, if you come with me...
You'll float too.
Georgie.
You'll float too!
You'll float too!
You'll float too!
You'll float too!
You'll float too!
You'll float too!
You'll float too!
I-I need to show you something.
What is it?
More than we saw at the quarry?
Shut up! Just shut up, Richie.
My dad will kill me if he finds out
that I had boys in the apartment.
W-w-w-w-we'll leave a lookout.
Now Richie, just stay here.
Woah, woah, woah,
what if her dad comes back?
Do what you always do.
Start talking.
It is a gift.
In there...
What is it?
You'll see.
Great, bringing us to the bathroom.
You know that 89% of
the worse accidents
occur in the bathroom and kitchen.
And that's where all the
bacteria and fungi are...
and it is not a hygienic place...
I knew it!
Do you see it?
Yes.
What happened in here?
My dad couldn't see it,
I thought that I might be crazy.
Well if you're crazy,
then we're all crazy.
We c-c-c-can't leave it like this.
You never went to the
Summer Fair Derry?
No, I think not.
That I know.
I go every year...
but once I went with Richie and
I won because I hit the target.
But there were so many prizes I
didn't know which one to choose.
It's not true, you know...
What they say about me.
I was only ever kissed by one guy.
It was a long time ago.
But it was a nice kiss though.
"January embers."
W-w-w-w-was that in the play?
No, the poem.
Oh, I really don't
read much p-p-poetry.
Oh I just,
never mind.
Oh, just so you know,
I never believed any of the rumors.
None of us losers do.
We like hanging with you.
Thanks.
You should not thank us too much
hanging out with us
makes you a loser too.
I can take that.
No, I love being your personal doorman.
Really could you idiots
have taken any longer?
- Shut up, Richie.
- Yeah, shut up, Richie.
Oh okay, trash the
trash-mouth, I get it.
Hey I wasn't the one
scrubbing the bathroom floor
imagining that her sink went all
Eddie's mom's vagina on halloween.
She didn't imagine.
I also saw something too.
You saw blood, too?
Not blood,
I saw G-g-Georgie.
It seemed so real,
I mean it seemed like
him but there was this...
A clown.
Yeah, I saw him too.
Wait, can only virgins see this stuff?
Is that why I'm not. Seeing this shit?
Oh shit, that's Belch Huggins car.
We, we should
probably get outta here.
Yes.
Wait isn't that the home
schooled kids bike?
Yeah, that's Mikes.
We have to help him.
We should?
Yes.
Come on.
Take that!
- Take that, bitch!
- Damn fool!
- Bitch!
- Motherfucker!
Take that bitch!
Damned...
What are you going to do?
Get up!
Raise that ass!
Fucking idiot!
Come on, Henry, do it harder!
Times.