“You buy furniture.” from the film “Fight Club.” Jack talks about losing all his stuff. Then Tyler gets him to ask if he can stay at his place, for a favor. He proceeds to ask Jack :I want you to hit me as hard as you can.” Ideal for Adult Males in their 20s-30s. 1-2 Mins.
Written By: Chuck Palahniuk and Jim Uhls
JACK and TYLER:
A small building in the middle of a concrete parking lot.
INT. LOU’S TAVERN – SAME
Jack and Tyler sit in the back, with a pitcher of BEER.
JACK
You buy furniture. You tell
yourself: this is the last sofa I’ll
ever need. No matter what else
happens, I’ve got the sofa issue
handled. Then, the right set of
dishes. The right dinette.
TYLER
This is how we fill up our lives.
Tyler lights a cigarette.
JACK
I guess so.
TYLER
And, now it’s gone.
JACK
All gone.
Tyler offers cigarettes. Jack declines.
TYLER
Could be worse. A woman could cut
off your penis while you’re asleep
and toss it out the window of a
moving car.
JACK
There’s always that.
TYLER
I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe
it’s a terrible tragedy.
JACK
…no …no …
TYLER
I mean, you did lose a lot of nice,
neat little shit. The trendy paper
lamps, the Euro-trash shelving unit,
am I right?
Jack laughs, nods. He shakes his head, drinks.
TYLER
But maybe, just maybe, you’ve been
delivered.
JACK
(toasts)
Delivered from Swedish furniture.
TYLER
Delivered from armchairs in obscure
green stripe patterns.
JACK
Delivered from Martha Stewart.
TYLER
Delivered from bullshit colors like
“Cobalt,” “Ebony,” and “Fuchsia.”
They laugh together. Then, silence. They drink.
JACK
Insurance’ll cover it.
TYLER
Oh, yeah, you gotta start making the
list.
JACK
What list?
TYLER
The “now I get to go out and buy the
exact same stuff all over again”
list. That list.
JACK
I don’t… think so.
TYLER
This time maybe get a widescreen TV.
You’ll be occupied for weeks.
JACK
Well, I have to file a claim…
TYLER
The things you own, they end up
owning you.
JACK
Don’t I?
TYLER
Do what you like.
JACK
(looks at watch)
God, it’s late. I should find a
hotel…
TYLER
A hotel?
JACK
Yeah.
TYLER
So, you called me up, because you
just wanted to have a drink before
you… go find a hotel?
JACK
I don’t follow…
TYLER
We’re on our third pitcher of beer.
Just ask me.
JACK
Huh?
TYLER
You called me so you could have a
place to stay.
JACK
No, I…
TYLER
Why don’t you cut the shit and ask if
you can stay at my place?
JACK
Would that be a problem?
TYLER
Is it a problem for you to ask?
JACK
Can I stay at your place?
TYLER
Yes, you can.
JACK
Thank you.
TYLER
You’re welcome. But, I want you to
do me one favor.
JACK
What’s that?
TYLER
I want you to hit me as hard as you
can.
JACK
What?
TYLER
I want you to hit me as hard as you
can.
Tyler and Jack come out the back door.
JACK
I don’t know about this.
TYLER
I don’t know, either. I want to find
out. I’ve never been hit, have you?
JACK
No. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?
TYLER
I don’t want to die without any
scars. How much can you really know
about yourself if you’ve never been
in a fight? Come on… you’re the
only person I’ve ever asked.
JACK
Me?
Jack stares at him.
TYLER
Why not you? I’m letting you go
first. Do it.
JACK
This is crazy.
TYLER
Alright, go crazy. Let ‘er rip.
JACK
Where do you want it? In the face?
TYLER
Surprise me.
Jack swings a wide, clumsy roundhouse — hits Tyler’s
neck — makes a dull, flat sound.
JACK
Shit. Sorry. That didn’t count.
TYLER
Like hell. That counted.
Tyler shoots out a straight punch to Jack’s chest. Jack
falls back against a car. His eyes tear up.
TYLER
How do you feel?
JACK
Strange.
TYLER
But a good strange.
JACK
Is it?
TYLER
We’ve crossed the threshold. You
want to call it off?
JACK
Call what off?
TYLER
The fight.
JACK
What fight?
TYLER
This fight, pussy.
Jack swings another roundhouse that slams right under
Tyler’s ear. Tyler punches Jack in the stomach. Tyler and
Jack move clumsily, throwing punches. They breathe heavier,
drooling saliva and blood, growing dizzier from every impact.
