When you get ads in your phone or utility bill, include them with the payment. Let them throw it away.
When you get those pre-approved letters in the mail for everything from credit cards to 2nd mortgages and junk like that, most of them come with postage paid return envelopes, right? Well, why not get rid of some of your other junk mail and put it in these cool little envelopes!
Send an ad for your local dry cleaner to American Express. Or a pizza coupon to Citibank. If you didn't get anything else that day, then just send them their application back! If you want to remain anonymous, just make sure your name isn't on anything you end them.
Eventually, the banks and credit card companies will begin getting all their junk back in the mail.
Let's let them know what it's like to get junk mail, and best of all THEY'RE paying for it! Twice!
Pass this on to a friend or two or three... or fifty....
Page 1 2TRIVIA
Narrator:[voice over] Except for their humping, Tyler and Marla were never in the same room. My parents pulled this exact same act for years.
Marla: The condom is the glass slipper of our generation. You slip it on when you meet a stranger. You…dance all night…and then you throw it away! The condom, I mean. Not the stranger.
Marla: I got this dress at a thrift store for one dollar.
Narrator: It was worth every penny.
Marla: It’s a bridesmaid’s dress. Someone loved it intensely for one day, and then tossed it. Like a Christmas tree. So special. Then, bam, it’s on the side of the road.
[walks up to Narrator’s back and grabs his crotch]
Marla: Tinsel still clinging to it. Like a sex crime victim. Underwear inside out. Bound with electrical tape.
Narrator: Well, then it suits you.
Marla: You can borrow it sometime.
[Tyler tells Narrator to get rid of Marla]
Narrator:[voice over] I’m six years old again, passing messages between parents.
[Marla enters the Kitchen grabbing her stuff to leave]
Narrator: You know what, I really think it’s time you got out of here.
Marla: Don’t worry I’m leaving.
Narrator: Yeah, not like we don’t love your little visits.
Marla: You know you are such a nutcase, I can’t even begin to keep up.
Narrator: Wh…Why do you still waste time with her?
Tyler: I’ll say this about Marla, at least she’s trying to hit bottom.
Narrator: What, and I’m not?
Tyler: Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken.
Narrator: What are we doing tonight?
Tyler: Tonight, we make soap.
Tyler: To make soap, first we render fat.
[at a biohazard waste dump site]
Tyler: The salt balance has to be just right, so the best fat for making soap comes from humans.
Narrator: Wait. What is this place?
Tyler: A liposuction clinic.
Tyler: Now, ancient peoples found their clothes got cleaner when they washed them at a certain spot in the river. You know why?
Tyler: ‘Cause human sacrifices were once made on the hills above this river. Bodies burnt, water seeped through the wooden ashes to create lye.
[holds up a bottle]
Tyler: This is lye, the crucial ingredient. Once it mixed with the melted fat of the bodies, a thick white soapy discharge crept into the river. May I see your hand, please?
[Tyler licks his lips until they’re gleaming wet. He takes the Narrator’s hand and kisses the back of it]
Narrator: What is this?
[pours the lye on the Narrator’s hand]
Tyler: …is a chemical burn. It will hurt more than you’ve ever been burned and you will have a scar.
[after pouring lye onto Narrator’s hand]
Tyler: Stay with the pain, don’t shut this out.
Narrator: No, GOD!
Tyler: Look at your hand. The first soap was made from the ashes of heroes. Like the first monkeys shot into space. Without pain, without sacrifice we would have nothing.
Narrator:[voice over] I tried not to think of the words “searing” or “flesh”.
[we see a shot of a forest in gentle spring rainfall. Then back to Narrator in deep pain trying to get his hand away from Tyler]
Tyler: [shouting] Stop it! This is your pain…this is your burning hand. It’s right here!
Tyler: Listen to me. You have to consider the possibility that God does not like you. He never wanted you. In all probability, he hates you. This is not the worst thing that can happen.
Narrator: It isn’t?
Tyler: We don’t need Him.
Narrator: We don’t, I agree…
Tyler: Fuck damnation, man. Fuck redemption. We are God’s unwanted children. So be it!
Tyler: But first you have to give up. First, you have to know, not fear, know that someday you’re gonna die.
[Narrator spasms with a shiver of pain]
Narrator: You don’t know how this feels!
[Tyler hold up his hand to show a the same burned kiss scar on his own hand]
Tyler: It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything.
Narrator:[voice over] Tyler sold his soap to department stores at $20 a bar. God knows what they charged. It was beautiful. We were selling rich women their own fat asses back to them.
[in the midst of having a long discussion with his boss, the phone rings]
Narrator:[into phone] Compliance and Liability?
Marla: My tit’s gonna rot off.
Narrator:[to his boss] Would you excuse me? I need to take this.
Marla: My tit’s gonna rot off.
[his Boss stares at Narrator and then leaves]
Narrator:[into phone] What are you talking about?
Marla: I need you to check and see if there’s a lump in my breast.
Narrator: Go to hospital.
Marla: I can’t afford to throw money away on a doctor…
[at Marla’s place after giving her a breast exam]
Marla: I wish I could return the favor.
Narrator: There’s not a lot of breast cancer in the men in my family.
Marla: I could check your prostate.
[Narrator runs into Bob and finds out he’s also joined Fight Club]
Bob: Have you heard about the guy who invented this thing?
Narrator: Well, yeah, actually…
Bob: I hear all kinds of things.
Bob: Supposedly, he was born in a mental institution. And he sleeps only one hour a night. He’s a great man.
Bob: Do you know about Tyler Durden?
Narrator:[voice over] Fight club…this was mine and Tyler’s gift…our gift to the world.
[giving a speech to the Fight Club member]
Tyler: Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who’ve ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. Goddamn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables, slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don’t need. We’re the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War’s a spiritual war… our Great Depression is our lives. We’ve all been raised on television to believe that one day we’d all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won’t. And we’re slowly learning that fact. And we’re very, very pissed off.
[after getting beaten up by the owner of the bar that Fight Club is using the basement to have their fights]
Tyler: This week, each one of you has a homework assignment. You’re gonna go out, you’re gonna start a fight with a total stranger…
[there’s a pause as he drools blood]
Tyler: You’re gonna start a fight and you’re gonna lose.
[we see a montage of Fight Club members trying to pick a fight]
Narrator:[voice over] Now this is not as easy as it sounds. Most people, normal people, do just about anything to avoid a fight.
Narrator: We need to talk.
Richard Chesler: Okay. Where to begin? With your constant absenteeism? With your un-presentable appearance? You’re up for a review.
Narrator: I am Jack’s Complete Lack of Surprise.
Richard Chesler: What?
Narrator: Let’s pretend. You’re the Department of Transportation, okay? Someone informs you that this company installs front seat mounting brackets that never pass collision tests, brake linings that fail after a thousand miles and fuel injectors that explode and burn people alive. What then?
Richard Chesler: Are you threatening me?
[his boss sits up in his seat, becoming enraged]
Richard Chesler: Get the fuck outta here! You’re fired.
Narrator: I have a better solution: You keep me on the payroll as an outside consultant and in exchange for my salary my job will be never to tell people these things that I know. I don’t even have to come into the office, I can do this job from home.
Richard Chesler: Who…who the fuck do you think you are, you crazy little shit?
[he stands up and picks up the phone]
Richard Chesler:[into phone] Security?
Narrator:[voice over] I am Jack’s Smirking Revenge.
[Narrator starts to punch himself and falls to the floor]
[Narrator, with bloody face and nose, pushes a shopping cart filled with his office equipment and being escorted out of the building]
Narrator:[voice over] Telephone, computer, fax machine, fifty-two weekly pay-checks and forty-eight airline flight coupons. We now have corporate sponsorship. This is how Tyler and I were able to have fight club every night of the week.
Narrator: [voice over] I am Jack’s wasted life.
Narrator:[voice over] On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.
[Tyler is holding a guy on his knees with a gun pointed to the back of his head]
Tyler: Would you rather be dead? Would you rather die? Here? On your knees? In the back of a convenient store?
Raymond: Nooo! Please stop!
[Tyler unlocks the gun and lowers it]
Tyler: I’m keeping your license. I’m gonna check in on you. I know where you live. If you’re not on your way to becoming a veterinarian in six weeks, you will be dead. Now run on home.
[Tyler throws him his wallet. Raymond takes it, staggers to his feet and runs down the alley]
Tyler:[shouting to Raymond] Run, Forrest, run!
Narrator: I feel ill.
Tyler: Imagine how he feels.
Narrator: Come on, this isn’t funny! That wasn’t funny! What the fuck was the point of that?
Tyler: Tomorrow will be the most beautiful day in Raymond K. Hessel’s life. His breakfast will taste better than any meal you and I have ever tasted.
Tyler: You are not your job…you are not how much money you have in the bank…not the car you drive…not the contents of your wallet. You are not your fucking khakis. We are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.
[Marla has walked into the kitchen after another night spent with Tyler]
Narrator: Hey, listen, um…wh…what are you getting out of this?
Narrator: I mean…all this…why do you keep…is this making you happy?
Marla: Yeah well, sometimes.
Narrator: Well, I don’t know…I don’t understand, why does a weaker person need to latch on a strong person? What…what is that?
Marla: What do you get out of it?
Tyler: Right, if the applicant is young, tell him he’s too young. Old, too old. Fat, too fat.
Tyler: If the applicant then waits for three days without food, shelter, or encouragement he may then enter and begin his training.
Narrator: [voice over] Sooner or later, we all became what Tyler wanted us to be.
[Bob stands outside Tyler’s front porch as a potential ‘applicant’]
Tyler:[to Bob] You’re too old, fat man. Your tits are too big. Get the fuck off my porch.
[newly appointed ‘applicant’ Steph now takes over viewing applicants]
Steph:[to Bob] You’re too fucking old fatty! [to Angel Face] And you! You’re too fucking…blond! Get outta here, both of you.
[Tyler and his army have grabbed Commissioner Jacobs in the bathroom. They hold Jacobs, pulling down his pants. Bob snaps a rubber band]
Tyler: Wrap it around the top of his hackie-sack, Bob.
Bob: Yeah, his balls are ice cold.
Tyler: Hi. You’re going to call off your “rigorous investigation”, you’re gonna publicly state that there is no underground group. Or…these guys gonna take your balls.
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[after seeing that Tyler now favors new recruit, Angel Face]
Narrator:[voice over] I am Jack’s Inflamed Sense of Rejection.
[in the car with Tyler driving]
Tyler: Something on your mind, dear?
Narrator: No…All right, why wasn’t I told about Project Mayhem?
Steph and Machanic:[together] The first rule of Project Mayhem is you do not ask questions.
Tyler: What are you talking about?
Narrator: Why didn’t you include me, in the beginning?
Tyler: Fight Club was the beginning, now it’s moved out of the basement, it’s called Project Mayhem.
[Tyler steers the car into the opposite lane and accelerates]
Narrator: What are you doing?
Tyler: Guys, what would you wish you’d done before you die?
Steph: Paint a self-portrait.
The Mechanic: Build a house.
Tyler:[to Narrator] And you?
Narrator: I don’t know. Nothing…nothing. Come on get in the right lane!
Tyler: You have to know the answer to this question! If you died right now, how would you feel about your life?
Narrator: I don’t know, I wouldn’t feel anything good about my life, is that what you want to hear me say? Fine. Come on!
Tyler: Not good enough.
[Narrator tries to stop Tyler from driving the car in the opposite lane and into the oncoming traffic]
Tyler: Look at you…look at you! You’re fucking pathetic.
Narrator: Why? Why? What are you talking about?
Tyler: Why do you think I blew up your condo?
Tyler: Hitting bottom is not a weekend-retreat, it’s not a goddamn seminar. Stop trying to controlling everything and just let go. LET GO!
[Narrator takes his hands off the steering wheel]
[after the car has overturned]
Tyler: God Damn! [laughs] We just had a near-life experience.
[Narrator is asleep, dreaming about Tyler]
Tyler: In the world I see, you’re stalking elk through the damp canyon forests around the ruins of Rockefeller Center. You’ll wear leather clothes that will last you the rest of your life. You’ll climb the wrist-think kudzu vines that wrap the Sears Tower. And when you look down you’ll see tiny figures pounding corn, laying-strips of venison on the empty car pool lane of some abandoned superhighway.
[discovering Tyler has left, Narrator walks around the house noticing all of Tyler’s new recruits]
Narrator: [voice over] The house had become a living thing, wet inside from so many people sweating and breathing. So many people moving, the house moved. Planet Tyler. I had to hug the walls, trapped inside this clockwork of Space Monkeys…cooking and working and sleeping in teams.
Narrator:[voice over] I’m all alone. My father dumped me. Tyler dumped me. I Am Jack’s Broken Heart.
[trying desperately to find Tyler by going to all the places Tyler has been]
Narrator:[voice over] Am I asleep? Had I slept? Is Tyler my bad dream or am I Tyler’s?
[Narrator is seated with two bruised patron in a bar trying to find Tyler]
Bruised Patron 1: We just heard the stories.
Narrator: What kind of stories?
Bruised Patron 1: Like, nobody knows what he looks like.
Bruised Patron 2: He has facial reconstructive every three years.
Narrator: That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.
Bruised Patron 1: Is it true about fight club in Miami?
Bruised Patron 2: Is Mr. Durden building an army?
Narrator:[voice over] I was living in a state of perpetual de ja vu. Everywhere I went, I felt I had already been there. It was like following an invisible man. The smell of dry blood. Dirty bare-foot prints circling each other. That aroma of old sweat like fried chicken. The feel of the floor still warm from the fight the night before. I was always just one step behind Tyler.
[Narrator enters a bar he believes Tyler has been to]
Wounded Bartender: You were standing exactly where you are now, asking how good security is. It’s tight as a drum, sir.
Narrator: Who do you think I am?
Wounded Bartender: Are you sure this isn’t a test?
Narrator: No, this is not a test.
Wounded Bartender: You’re Mr. Durden. You’re the one who gave me this.
[Bartender holds up his hand, shows the kiss scar on the back of his hand]
Narrator:[voice over] Please return your seatbacks to their full, upright and locked position.
[on the phone to Marla]
Narrator: Just answer the question, Marla, please. Did we do it or not?
Marla: You fuck me, then snub me. You love me, you hate me. You show me your sensitive side, then you turn into a total asshole. Is that a pretty accurate description of our relationship, Tyler?
Narrator:[voice over] We have just lost cabin pressure.
Narrator: What did you just say?
Marla: What is wrong with you?
Narrator: What did you just call me? Say my name!
Marla: Tyler Durden, Tyler Durden, you fucking freak, what’s going on? I’m coming over.
[Narrator finally confronts the possibility of being Tyler Durden and has flash backs on his actions as Tyler Durden]
Tyler: Say it!
Narrator: Because we’re the same person.
Tyler: That’s right.
Narrator: I don’t understand this…
Tyler: You were looking for a way to change your life. You could not do this on your own. All the ways you wished you could be…that’s me! I look like you wanna look, I fuck like you wanna fuck, I am smart, capable and most importantly, I’m free in all the ways that you are not.
Narrator: No, this is impossible. This is crazy.
Tyler: No, people do it every day. They talk to themselves. They see themselves as they like to be. They don’t have the courage you have, to just run with it. Naturally you still wrestling with it so sometimes you’re still you. Other times you imagine yourself watching me. Little by little you’re just letting yourself become…Tyler Durden!
Narrator: Wh…What are you saying? This is…this is bullshit! This is bullshit, I’m not listening to this. You are insane.
Tyler: No, you’re insane, and we simply do not have time for this crap!
[Narrator stands, trying to absorb all this, he suddenly collapses onto the bed, out cold]
Narrator:[voice over] It’s called a “changeover”. The movie goes on and nobody in the audience has any idea.
[trying to explain to Marla about why he’s been acting so strange]
Narrator: Look,…listen. It’ll take a tremendous act of faith on your part, but you’ve gotta hear me out.
Marla: Oh, here comes an avalanche of bullshit.
Narrator: A little more faith than that.
Narrator: I know that I’ve been acting very, very strange. Okay, and I know that it’s gotta seem like there’s two sides of me…
Marla: Two sides? You’re Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jackass.
Marla: There are things about you that I like. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re spectacular in bed….But you’re intolerable! You have very serious emotional problems. Deep seated problems for which you should seek professional help.
[Narrator gives Marla some money to leave the city]
Marla: Why are you doing this?
Narrator: Because they think you are some kind of a threat, I…I can’t explain it right now, just trust me If I see where you’re going, you will not be safe.
[Marla holds up the money]
Marla: I’m not paying this back. I consider it “asshole tax.”
Narrator: That’s fine. Remember stay out of major cities, for at least a couple of days, okay?
[Marla gets on the bus]
Marla: Tyler…you’re the worst thing that ever happened to me.
[Narrator turns himself into the police and lets them know of Project Mayhem next terrorist attack to blow up the headquarters of credit card companies and the TRW building]
Det. Stern: Why these buildings? Why credit card companies?
Narrator: If you erase the debt record, we all go back to zero. It’ll create total chaos.
[Narrator goes into one of the building Tyler has targeted to be bombed and he sees Tyler again]
Narrator: Bob is dead! They shot him in the head!
Tyler: You wanna make an omelet you’ve gotta break some eggs.
Narrator: No, I’m not listening to you, you’re not even there.
[Narrator has disarmed the bomb Tyler has set up in a truck, he then attempts to shoot Tyler who is now standing by the back doors of the truck]
Tyler: Whoa! Whoa! Okay! You are now firing with a gun at your imaginary friend, near four hundred gallons of nitroglycerin!!!
[we are now back to the very first scene when we saw the Narrator tied up in a chair with a gun held in his mouth by Tyler]
Tyler: It’s getting exciting now. Two and a half. Think of everything we’ve accomplished, man. Out these windows, we will view the collapse of financial history. One step closer to economic equilibrium.
Narrator: You’re a fucking hallucination, why I can’t get rid of you?
Tyler: You need me.
Narrator: No, I don’t. I really don’t anymore…
Tyler: Hey, you created me. I didn’t create some loser alter-ego to make myself feel better. Take some responsibility.
Tyler: What do you want?! Wanna go back to the shit job, fucking condo world, watching sitcoms? Fuck you! I won’t do it.
Narrator: This can’t be happening.
[Narrator realizes Tyler is not holding the gun, but the gun is in his own hand]
Tyler: Why do you want to put a gun to your head?
Narrator: Not my head, Tyler. Our head.
Tyler: Interesting. Where are you going with this IKEA-boy? Hey, it’s you and me…Friends?
Narrator: Tyler, I want you to really listen to me.
Narrator: My eyes are open.
[he then puts the gun into his own mouth and shoots himself]
Tyler: What’s that smell…?
Marla: You shot yourself?
Narrator: Yes, but it’s okay. Marla look at me. I’m really okay. Trust me. Everything’s gonna be fine.
[we see out the building windows a building explodes, collapsing upon itself and then another building implodes into a massive cloud of dust. Narrator looks at Marla and reaches to take her hand]
Narrator:[to Marla] You met me at a very strange time in my life.
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Total Quotes: 116
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