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People are always asking me
if I know Tyler Durden.
3 minutes.
This is it - ground zero.
Would you like to say a few words to mark the occasion?
With a gun barrel between your teeth,
you speak only in vowels.
I can't think of anything.
For a second I totally forget
about Tyler's whole controlled demolition thing,
and I wonder how clean that gun is.
Getting exciting now.
That old saying,
how you always hurt the one you love?
Well, it works both ways.
We have front row seats
for this theater of mass destruction.
The demolitions committee of Project Mayhem
wrapped the foundation columns of a dozen buildings
with blasting gelatin. In 2 minutes,
primary charges will blow base charges
and a few square blocks
will be reduced to smoldering rubble.
I know this...
because Tyler knows this.
21/2.
Think of everything we've accomplished.
And suddenly, I realize that all of this
the gun, the bombs, the revolution...
has got something to do with a girl named Marla Singer.
Bob. Bob had bitch-tits.
This was a support group for men with testicular cancer.
The big moosey slobbering all over me,
that was Bob.
We're still men.
Yes, we're men.
Men is what we are.
8 months ago, Bob's testicles were removed.
Then hormone therapy. He developed bitch-tits
because his testosterone was too high,
and his body upped the estrogen.
And that was where I fit...
They're gonna have to open up my pecs again
and drain the fluid.
Between those huge, sweating tits
that hung enormous the way you'd think of God's as big.
OK. You cry now.
No, wait. Back up. Let me start earlier.
For 6 months, I couldn't sleep.
I couldn't sleep.
With insomnia, nothing's real.
Everything's far away.
Everything's a copy of a copy of a copy.
When deep space exploration ramps up,
it'll be the corporations that name everything...
the I.B.M. Stellarsphere,
the Microsoft Galaxy,
Planet Starbucks.
Gonna need you out of town a little more this week.
We got some red flags to cover.
It must've been Tuesday.
He was wearing his cornflower-blue tie.
You want me to deprioritize my current reports
until you advise of a status upgrade?
Make these your primary action items.
Here's your flight coupons.
Call me from the road if there's any snags.
He was full of pep.
Must have had his grande latte enema.
Like so many others, I had become a slave
to the IKEA nesting instinct.
Uh, yes. I'd like to order the Erica Pekkary dust ruffles.
Please hold.
If I saw something clever
like a little coffee table in the shape of a yin-yang,
I had to have it.
The Klipske personal office unit,
the Hovetrekke home exer-bike,
or the Johannshamn sofa
with the Strinne green stripe pattern.
Even the Rizlampa wire lamps
of environmentally friendly unbleached paper.
I'd flip through catalogs and wonder...
What kind of dining set defines me as a person?
I had it all.
Even the glass dishes
with tiny bubbles and imperfections.
Proof that they were crafted by the honest, simple,
hard-working indigenous peoples of...
Please hold.
Wherever.
I was holding.
We used to read pornography.
Now it was the Horchow collection.
No, you can't die from insomnia.
What about narcolepsy?
I nod off. I wake up in strange places.
I have no idea how I got there.
You need to lighten up.
Can you please just get me something?
Red and blue Tuenols, lipstick-red Seconals.
No. You need healthy natural sleep.
Chew some Valerian root and get more exercise.
Hey, come on. I'm in pain.
You wanna see pain?
Swing by First Methodist Tuesday nights.
See the guys with testicular cancer.
That's pain.
La la la
La la la la la la
I always wanted 3 kids,
2 boys and a girl.
Mindy wanted 2 girls and a boy.
We never could agree on anything.
Well, uh, you know, she...
She had her first child last week, a...
a girl.
With... With her, uh, with her new husband.
Fuck.
Hey... Hey, thank God, you know.
I'm... I'm glad for her.
Because she deserves it.
Aw.
Everyone, let's thank Thomas for sharing himself with us.
Thank you, Thomas.
I look around this room, and I see a lot of courage,
and that gives me strength.
We give each other strength.
It's time for the one-on-ones.
So let's all of us here follow Thomas' good example
and really open ourselves up.
Would you find a partner?
And this is how I met the big moosey...
Come on. Let's go over here.
His eyes already shrink-wrapped in tears...
knees together, those awkward little steps.
My name is Bob.
Bob.
Bob had been a champion body-builder.
You know that chest-expansion program
you see on late-night TV? That was his idea.
I was a juicer.
You know, using steroids.
Diabonal and...
Wistrol. Oh, they use that
on racehorses, for Christ sakes.
And now I'm bankrupt.
I'm divorced.
My 2 grown kids...
won't even return my phone calls.
Strangers with this kind of honesty
make me go a big rubbery one.
Go ahead, Cornelius.
You can cry.
And then, something happened.
I let go.
That's really good.
Lost in oblivion...
dark and silent and complete.
I found freedom.
Losing all hope was freedom.
It's OK.
Babies don't sleep this well.
I became addicted.
Come on.
If I didn't say anything...
people always assumed the worst.
Welcome, Travis.
Second Welcome, Travis.
They cried harder...
then I cried harder.
Now we're going to open the green door,
the heart chakra.
I wasn't really dying.
I wasn't host to cancer or parasites.
I was the warm little center
that the life of this world crowded around.
Imagine your pain
as a white ball of healing light.
It moves over your body, healing you.
Now, keep this going. Remember to breathe,
and step forward
through the back door of the room.
Where does it lead?
To your cave.
Step forward into your cave.
That's right.
You're going deeper into your cave,
and you're going to find your power animal.
Slide.
Every evening, I died...
and every evening, I was born again.
Resurrected.
Bob loved me because he thought
my testicles were removed, too.
Being there...
pressed against his tits,
ready to cry.
This was my vacation.
And she ruined everything.
This is cancer, right?
This chick Marla Singer
did not have testicular cancer.
She was a liar.
She had no diseases at all.
I had seen her at Free and Clear
my blood parasites group Thursdays.
Then at Hope, my bimonthly sickle cell circle.
And again at Seize the Day,
my tuberculosis Friday night.
Marla, the big tourist.
Her lie reflected my lie,
and suddenly, I felt nothing.
I couldn't cry.
So once again, I couldn't sleep.
Next group, after guided meditation,
after we open our heart chakras,
when it's time to hug,
I'm gonna grab that little bitch
Marla Singer and scream...
Marla, you liar! You big tourist!
I need this! Now get out!
I hadn't slept in 4 days.
Absolutely. We'll just let that dry.
When you have insomnia,
you're never really asleep...
and you're never really awake.
To begin tonight's communion,
Chloe would like to say a few words.
Oh, yeah... Chloe.
Chloe looked the way
Meryl Streep's skeleton would look
if you made it smile and walk around the party
being extra nice to everybody.
Well, I'm still here,
but I don't know for how long.
That's as much certainty
as anyone can give me.
But I've got some good news.
I no longer have
any fear of death.
But I am in a pretty lonely place.
No one will have sex with me.
I'm so close to the end,
and all I want is to get laid for the last time.
I have pornographic movies in my apartment,
and lubricants and amyl nitrate.
Chloe...
Everyone, let's thank Chloe.
Now, let's... ready ourself
for guided meditation.
You're standing at the entrance of your cave.
You step inside your cave, and you walk.
If I did have a tumor...
I'd name it Marla.
Marla...
the little scratch on the roof of your mouth
that would heal if only you could stop tonguing it,
but you can't.
...deeper into your cave
as you walk.
You feel the healing energy of this place
all around you.
Now find your power animal.
Slide.
OK. Now let's partner up.
Pick someone special to you tonight.
Hey.
We need to talk.
Sure.
I'm onto you.
What?
Yeah. You're a faker.
You're not dying.
Sorry?
In the Tibetan philosophy, Sylvia Plath sense of the word,
I know we're all... we're all dying, all right?
But you're not dying the way Chloe back there is dying.
So?
So you're a tourist.
OK? I've seen you. I saw you...
saw you at melanoma,
saw you at tuberculosis,
I saw you at testicular cancer.
I saw you practicing this.
Practicing what?
Telling me off.
Is it going as well as you hoped...
"RUPERT"?
I'll expose you.
Go ahead. I'll expose you.
All right, come together.
Let yourselves cry.
Oh, God, why are you doing this?
It's cheaper than a movie, and there's free coffee.
No, look...
this is important, OK?
These are my groups.
I've been coming here for over a year.
Why do you do it?
I don't know.
When people think you're dying,
man, they really, really listen to you
instead of just...
Instead of just waiting for their turn to speak.
Yeah.
Share yourself... completely.
OK, you don't want to get into this.
It becomes an addiction.
Really?
I'm not kidding.
I can't cry if there's another faker present,
and I need this.
So you got to find somewhere else to go.
Candy stripe a cancer ward.
It's not my problem.
Wait, wait, wait.
Whoa. Hold on. I'll tell you.
We're gonna split up the week, OK?
You take lymphoma and tuberculosis...
You take tuberculosis.
My smoking doesn't go over at all.
OK. Good. Fine.
Testicular cancer should be no contest, I think.
Well, technically,
I have more right to be there than you.
You still have your balls.
You're kidding.
I don't know. Am I?
No. No.
What do you want?
I'll take the parasites.
You can't have both the parasites,
but why don't you take the blood parasites...
I want brain parasites.
I'll take the blood parasites,
but I'm gonna take the organic brain dementia...
I want that.
You can't have the whole brain.
So far you have 4. I only have 2.
OK.
Take both the parasites. They're yours.
Now we both have 3.
Hey, you left half your clothes!
What, are you selling those?
Yes! I'm selling some clothes.
So,
we each have 3. That's 6.
What about the seventh day? I want ascending bowel cancer.
The girl had done her homework.
Thank you.
No. No, I...
I want bowel cancer.
That's your favorite, too?
Try to slip it by me, eh?
Look, we're gonna split it, OK?
Take the first and third Sunday of the month.
Deal.
Looks like this is good-bye.
Well, let's not make a big thing out of it, OK?
How's this for not making a big thing?
Hey, Marla!
Marla!
May-Maybe we should exchange numbers.
Should we?
W- We might want to switch nights.
OK.
This is how I met Marla Singer.
Marla's philosophy of life
was that she might die at any moment.
The tragedy, she said, was that she didn't.
It doesn't have your name.
Who are you,
Cornelius, Rupert,
Travis,
any of the stupid names
you give each night?
You wake up at Seatac.
S.F.O...
L.A.X...
You wake up at O'Hare...
Dallas-Fort Worth...
B.W.I...
Pacific, mountain, central...
Lose an hour, gain an hour...
Check-in for that flight doesn't begin
for another 2 hours, sir.
This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.
You wake up at Air Harbor International...
the aircraft has come to a complete stop.
If you wake up at a different time,
in a different place,
could you wake up as a different person?
Everywhere I travel,
tiny life...
single-serving sugar...
single-serving cream...
single pat of butter...
a microwave cordon-bleu hobby kit.
Shampoo-conditioner combos.
Sample package mouthwash, tiny bars of soap.
The people I meet on each flight,
they're single-serving friends.
Between takeoff and landing, we have our time together,
but that's all we get.
Welcome!
On a long enough timeline,
the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.
I was a recall coordinator.
My job was to apply the formula.
Here's where the infant
went through the windshield.
3 points.
A new car built by my company
leaves somewhere traveling at 60 miles per hour.
The rear differential locks up.
The teenager's braces
are wrapped around the back seat ashtray.
Might make a good antismoking ad.
The car crashes and burns
with everyone trapped inside.
Now, should we initiate a recall?
The father must've been huge.
You see where the fat
has burned to the seat,
the polyester shirt?
- Very modern art. - Ha ha ha!
Take the number of vehicles in the field, "A,"
multiply it by the probable rate of failure, "B,"
then multiply the result
by the average out-of-court settlement, "C."
"A" times "B" times "C"
equals "X."
If "X" is less than the cost of a recall,
we don't do one.
Are there a lot
of these kinds of accidents?
You wouldn't believe.
Which car company do you work for?
A major one.
Every time the plane banked too sharply
on takeoff or landing,
I prayed for a crash
or a midair collision.
Anything.
Life insurance pays off triple
if you die on a business trip.
"If you are seated in an emergency exit row... "
Yeah...
"And you feel you would be unable
or unwilling to perform the duties
listed on the safety card,
please ask a flight attendant
to reseat you. "
It's a lot of responsibility.
Wanna switch seats?
No. I'm not sure I'm the man
for that particular job.
An exit-door procedure at 30,000 feet.
Mm-hmm.
The illusion of safety.
Yeah. I guess so.
You know why they put oxygen masks on planes?
So you can breathe.
Oxygen gets you high.
In a catastrophic emergency,
you're taking giant panicked breaths.
Suddenly you become euphoric, docile.
You accept your fate.
It's all right here.
Emergency water landing...
600 miles an hour.
Blank faces,
calm as Hindu cows.
That's, um...
That's an interesting theory.
What do you do?
What do you mean?
What do you do for a living?
Why? So you can pretend like you're interested?
OK.
You have a kind of sick desperation
in your laugh.
We have the exact same briefcase.
Soap.
Sorry?
I make and I sell soap...
the yardstick of civilization.
And this is how I met...
"Tyler Durden. "
Did you know, if you mixed equal parts
of gasoline and frozen orange juice concentrate,
you can make napalm?
No, I did not know that. Is that true?
That's right.
One can make all kinds of explosives
using simple household items.
Really?
If one were so inclined.
Tyler, you are, by far, the most interesting
"single-serving" friend I've ever met.
See, obviously,
everything on a plane is single-serving, even...
Oh, I get it. It's very clever.
Thank you.
How's that working out for you?
What?
Being clever.
Great.
Keep it up, then.
Right up.
Now a question of etiquette.
As I pass,
do I give you the ass or the crotch?
How I came to live with Tyler is...
airlines have this policy about vibrating luggage.
Was... Was it ticking?
Actually, throwers don't worry about ticking,
'cause modern bombs don't tick.
Sorry. "Throwers"?
Baggage handlers.
But when a suitcase vibrates,
then the thrower's gotta call the police.
My suitcase... was vibrating?
9 times out of 10, it's an electric razor,
but every once in a while...
it's a dildo.
Of course, it's company policy
never to imply ownership
in the event of a dildo.
We have to use the indefinite article
a dildo.
Never your dildo.
I don't own a...
I had everything in that suitcase...
my CK shirts,
my DKNY shoes,
my AX ties.
Never mind.
Hey! That's my car!
Home was a condo on the 15th floor
of a filing cabinet for widows and young professionals.
The walls were solid concrete.
A foot of concrete's important
when your next-door neighbor lets her hearing aid go
and has to watch game shows at full volume...
Or when a volcanic blast
and debris that used to be your furniture and personal effects
blows out of your floor-to-ceiling windows
and sails flaming into the night.
I suppose these things happen.
There's nothing up there.
You can't go into the unit.
Police orders.
Do you have somebody you can call?
How embarrassing.
A house full of condiments and no food.
The police would later tell me
that the pilot light might have gone out,
letting out just a little bit of gas.
That gas could have slowly filled the condo...
1,700 square feet of high ceilings
for days and days.
Then the refrigerator's compressor could've clicked on.
Yeah?
I can hear you breathing, you...
If you asked me now,
I couldn't tell you why I called him.
Hello?
Who's this?
Tyler?
Who is this?
Um, ahem, we met on the airplane.
We had the same suitcase.
Uh, the clever guy.
Oh, yeah. Right. OK?
I called a second ago.
There was no answer. I'm at a pay phone.
Yeah. I star-69ed you.
I never pick up my phone.
So, what's up, man?
Uh, well...
you're not gonna believe this.
You know, man, it could be worse.
A woman could cut off your penis
while you're sleeping
and toss it out the window
of a moving car.
There's always that.
I don't know, it's just...
when you buy furniture,
you tell yourself, that's it.
That's the last sofa I'm gonna need.
Whatever else happens,
I've got that sofa problem handled.
I had it all.
I had a stereo that was very decent,
a wardrobe that was getting very respectable.
I was close to being complete.
Shit, man. Now it's all gone.
All gone.
Hmm. All gone.
Do you know what a duvet is?
Comforter.
It's a blanket.
Just a blanket.
Why do guys like you and I
know what a duvet is?
Is this essential to our survival
in the hunter-gatherer sense of the word?
No.
What are we, then?
We're, uh, you know, consumers...
Right. We're consumers.
We are by-products of a lifestyle obsession.
Murder, crime, poverty...
these things don't concern me.
What concerns me are celebrity magazines,
television with 500 channels,
some guy's name on my underwear.
Rogaine, Viagra, Olestra.
Martha Stewart.
Fuck Martha Stewart.
Martha's polishing the brass on the Titanic.
It's all going down, man.
So fuck off with your sofa units
and Strinne green stripe patterns.
I say, never be complete.
I say, stop being perfect.
I say, let's... let's evolve.
Let the chips fall where they may.
But that's me, and I could be wrong.
Maybe it's a terrible tragedy.
No. It's just stuff.
It's not a tragedy, but...
Well, you did lose
a lot of versatile solutions for modern living.
Fuck. You're right.
No. I don't smoke.
My insurance is probably gonna cover it, so...
What?
The things you own end up owning you.
But do what you like, man.
Oh, it's late.
Hey, thanks for the beer.
Yeah, man.
I should find a hotel.
Oh.
What?
A hotel.
Yeah.
Just ask, man.
What are you talking about?
Oh, God.
3 pitchers of beer,
and you still can't ask.
What?
You called me 'cause you needed a place to stay.
Oh, hey, no, no, no.
Yes, you did. So just ask.
Cut the foreplay and just ask, man.
Would that be a problem?
Is it a problem for you to ask?
Can I stay at your place?
Yeah.
Thanks.
I want you to do me a favor.
Yeah, sure.
I want you to hit me as hard as you can.
What?
I want you to hit me as hard as you can.
Let me tell you a little bit
about Tyler Durden.
Tyler was a night person.
While the rest of us were sleeping,
he worked.
He had one part-time job as a projectionist.
See, a movie doesn't come all on one big reel.
It comes on a few.
So someone has to be there to switch the projectors
at the exact moment that one reel ends
and the next one begins.
If you look for it, you can see these little dots
come into the upper right-hand corner of the screen.
In the industry,
we call them "cigarette burns. "
That's the cue for a changeover.
He flips the projectors,
the movie keeps right on going,
and nobody in the audience has any idea.
Why would anyone want this shit job?
Because it affords him other interesting opportunities.
Like splicing single frames of pornography
into family films.
So when the snooty cat and the courageous dog
with the celebrity voices
meet for the first time in reel 3,
that's when you'll catch a flash
of Tyler's contribution to the film.
Nobody knows that they saw it,
but they did.
A nice big cock.
Even a hummingbird couldn't catch Tyler at work.
Tyler also works sometimes as a banquet waiter
at the luxurious Pressman Hotel.
He was the guerilla terrorist
of the food service industry.
Do not watch.
I cannot go when you watch.
Apart from seasoning the lobster bisque,
he farted on meringues,
sneezed on braised endive.
And as for the cream of mushroom soup,
well...
Go ahead, tell them.
You get the idea.
What do you want me to do? You just want me to hit you?
Come on. Do me this one favor.
Why?
Why? I don't know why. I don't know.
I've never been in a fight. Have you?
No, but that's a good thing.
No, it is not.
How much can you know about yourself
if you've never been in a fight?
I don't wanna die without any scars.
So, come on, hit me before I lose my nerve.
God, this is crazy.
So go crazy. Let 'er rip.
Hey, I don't know about this.
I don't, either, but who gives a shit?
No one's watching. What do you care?
Wait. This is crazy. You want me to hit you?
That's right.
What, like, in the face?
Surprise me.
This is so fucking stupid.
Ohh!
Motherfucker!
You hit me in the ear.
Well, Jesus, I'm sorry.
Ow! Christ!
Why the ear, man?
Aw, I fucked it up.
No. That was perfect.
Ohh! Uhh!
Nah, it's all right.
That really hurts.
Right.
Hit me again.
No. You hit me.
Come on.
We should do this again sometime.
Where's your car?
What car?
I don't know how Tyler found that house,
but he said he'd been there for a year.
It looked like it was waiting to be torn down.
Most of the windows were boarded up.
There was no lock on the front door
from when the police or whoever kicked it in.
The stairs were ready to collapse.
I didn't know if he owned it or if he was squatting.
Neither would have surprised me.
Yeah. That's you.
That's me.
That's the toilet.
Good?
Yeah. Thanks.
What a shithole.
Nothing worked.
Turning on one light
meant another light in the house went out.
There were no neighbors,
just some warehouses and a paper mill...
that fart smell of steam,
the hamster cage smell of wood chips.
After work tomorrow, we'll be...
Hey. What have we here?
Hey, guys.
Hey.
It's cool.
Ohh!
Every time it rained, we had to kill the power.
By the end of the first month,
I didn't miss TV.
I didn't even mind the warm, stale refrigerator.
Can I be next?
All right, man.
Lose the tie.
Ooh!
At night, Tyler and I were alone
for a half a mile in every direction.
Rain trickled down through the plaster
and the light fixtures.
Everything wooden swelled and shrank.
Everywhere were rusted nails to snag your elbow on.
The previous occupant had been a bit of a shut-in.
Hey, man, what are you reading?
Listen to this.
It's an article written by an organ
in the first person.
"I am Jack's medulla oblongata.
Without me, Jack could not regulate
his heart rate, blood pressure, or breathing. "
There's a whole series of these.
"I am Jill's nipples. "
"I am Jack's colon. "
Yeah. "I get cancer. I kill Jack. "
Whoa... Ohh!
After fighting,
everything else in your life got the volume turned down.
What?
You could deal with anything.
Have you finished those reports?
If you could fight anyone,
who would you fight?
I'd fight my boss, probably.
Really?
Yeah. Why, who would you fight?
I'd fight my dad.
I don't know my dad.
I mean, I know him,
but he left when I was, like, 6 years old,
married this other woman and had some other kids.
He, like, did this every 6 years.
He goes to a new city and starts a new family.
Fucker should open up franchises.
My dad never went to college,
so it was real important that I go.
That sounds familiar.
So I graduate, I call him up long distance.
I say, "Dad, now what?" He says, "Get a job. "
Same here.
Now I'm 25.
I make my yearly call again.
I say, "Dad, now what?"
He says, "I don't know. Get married. "
Eh, I mean...
I can't get married.
I'm a 30-year-old boy.
We're a generation of men
raised by women.
I'm wondering if another woman
is really the answer we need.
Most of the week, we were Ozzie and Harriet.
But every Saturday night,
we were finding something out.
We were finding out more and more
that we were not alone.
Who turned the lights off?
It used to be
that when I came home angry or depressed,
I'd just clean my condo,
polish my Scandinavian furniture.
I should've been looking for a new condo.
I should've been haggling with my insurance company.
I should've been upset about my nice, neat flaming little shit.
But I wasn't.
The basic premise
of cyber-netting any office
is make things more efficient.
Monday mornings, all I could do
was think about next week.
Can I get the icon in cornflower blue?
Absolutely.
Efficiency is priority number one, people,
because waste is a thief.
I showed this already to my man, here.
You liked it, didn't you?
You can swallow a pint of blood
before you get sick.
It was right in everyone's face.
Tyler and I just made it visible.
It was on the tip of everyone's tongue.
Tyler and I just gave it a name.
Come on, people, you gotta go home.
Turn off the jukebox. Lock the back.
Every week, Tyler gave the rules
that he and I decided.
Gentlemen, welcome to Fight Club.
The first rule of Fight Club is...
you do not talk about Fight Club.
The second rule of Fight Club is...
you do not talk about Fight Club.
Third rule of Fight Club...
Someone yells "Stop!" goes limp, taps out,
the fight is over.
Fourth rule...
Only 2 guys to a fight.
Fifth rule...
One fight at a time, fellas.
Sixth rule... No shirts, no shoes.
Seventh rule...
Fights will go on as long as they have to.
And the eighth and final rule...
If this is your first night at Fight Club...
you have to fight.
This kid from work, Ricky,
couldn't remember whether you ordered pens
with blue ink or black...
Come on, man!
But Ricky was a god for 10 minutes
when the trounced the maitre d' of a local food court.
Sometimes, all you could hear
were the flat, hard packing sounds
over the yelling...
or the wet choke when someone caught their breath
and sprayed...
Stop!
You weren't alive anywhere like you were there.
But Fight Club only exists
in the hours between when Fight Club starts
and when Fight Club ends.
Even if I could tell someone they had a good fight,
I wouldn't be talking to the same man.
Who you were in Fight Club
is not who you were in the rest of the world.
The guy who came to Fight Club for the first time,
his ass was a wad of cookie dough.
After a few weeks,
he was carved out of wood.
If you could fight any celebrity,
who would you fight?
Alive or dead?
It doesn't matter. Who'd be tough?
Hemingway.
You?
Shatner.
I'd fight William Shatner.
We all started seeing things differently.
Everywhere we went,
we were sizing things up.
I felt sorry for guys packed into gyms,
trying to look like how Calvin Klein
or Tommy Hilfiger said they should.
Is that what a man looks like?
Ahh. Self-improvement is masturbation.
And self-destruction.
Excuse me.
Kick his ass!
Hit him again, man! Come on! Hit him!
Fight Club wasn't about winning or losing.
It wasn't about words.
The hysterical shouting was in tongues,
like in a Pentecostal church.
- Is that it? - Stop!
When the fight was over,
nothing was solved,
but nothing mattered.
Hey, cool.
Afterwards, we all felt saved.
Hey, man, how about next week?
How about next month?
I hear you.
Irwin, you're in the middle.
New guy. You, too.
Sometimes, Tyler spoke for me.
He fell down some stairs.
I fell down some stairs.
Fight Club became the reason to cut your hair short
or trim your fingernails.
OK. Any historical figure.
I'd fight Gandhi.
Good answer.
How about you?
Lincoln.
Lincoln?
Mm.
Big guy, big reach.
Skinny guys fight till they're burger.
Fuck.
Hey. Even the Mona Lisa's falling apart.
Hello.
Where have you been
the last 8 weeks?
Marla?
How'd you find me?
You left that forwarding number.
I haven't seen you in any support groups.
We split them up.
That was the idea, remember?
Yeah, but you haven't been going to yours.
How do you know?
I cheated.
I found a new one.
Really?
It's for men only.
Like the testicle thing?
Waaah!
Look, this is a bad time.
I've been going to Debtors Anonymous.
You wanna see some really fucked up people?
I'm just on my way out.
Me, too.
I've got a stomachful of Xanax.
I took what was left of a bottle.
It might have been too much.
Just picture watching Marla Singer
throw herself around her crummy apartment.
But this isn't a for-real suicide thing.
This is probably one of those cry-for-help things.
This could go on for hours.
So you're staying in tonight, then?
Do you wanna wait
and hear me describe death?
Do you wanna listen
and see if my spirit can use a phone?
Have you ever heard a death rattle before?
Tyler's door was closed.
I'd been living here for 2 months,
and Tyler's door was never closed.
You won't believe this dream I had last night.
Yeah, I can hardly believe anything about last night.
What... What are you doing here?
What?
This is my house. What are you doing in my house?
Fuck you.
Ha ha! Ohh...
Oh, you got some fucked-up friends, I'm tellin' you.
Limber, though...
silly coos.
So, I come in last night. Phone's off the hook.
Guess who's on the other end.
I already knew the story before he told it to me.
Have you ever heard a death rattle before?
Do you think it'll live up to its name?
Or will it just be a death... hairball?
Prepare... to evacuate soul.
9...
8...
Now, how could Tyler, of all people,
think it was a bad thing that Marla Singer was about to die?
5...
4...
3... Oh, hang on.
You got here fast.
Did I call you?
Huh?
Hey.
The mattress is all sealed in slippery plastic.
Oh, don't worry. It's not a threat to you.
Oh, fuck.
Somebody called the cops.
Hey, where's 513?
End of the hall.
You know, the girl who lives there
used to be a charming, lovely girl.
She's lost faith in herself.
Miss Singer!
She's a monster.
You have every reason to live!
She's infectious human waste!
Miss Singer!
Good luck trying to save her!
If I fall asleep, I'm done for.
You're gonna have to keep me up...
all... night.
Un-fucking-believable.
He was obviously able to handle it.
You know what I mean. You fucked her.
No, I didn't.
Never?
No.
You're not into her, are you?
No! God, not at all.
I am Jack's raging bile duct.
Are you sure? You can tell me.
Believe me, I'm sure.
Put a gun to my head
and paint the walls with my brains.
That's good, 'cause she's a predator
posing as a house pet.
Stay away from that one.
And the shit that came out of this woman's mouth
I ain't never heard.
My God.
I haven't been fucked like that since grade school.
Uhh!
How could Tyler not go for that?
The night before last, he was splicing
sex organs into Cinderella.
Marla doesn't need a lover.
She needs a fucking case worker.
She needs a wash. And she's in love with sport fuckin'.
She invaded my support groups.
Now she'd invaded my home.
Hey, hey. Sit down.
Now, listen. Can't have you talking to her about me.
Why would I talk to her...
You say anything about me or what goes on in this house
to her or to anybody, we're done.
Now, promise me.
OK.
You promise?
- Yeah, I promise. - Promise.
I just said I promise.
That's 3 times you promised.
If only I had wasted a couple of minutes
and gone to watch Marla Singer die,
none of this would've happened.
Unhh! Unhh! Unhh!
Unhh!
Yeah! Oh! Harder! Harder!
Yeah! Ooh! Aah!
Aah! Ohh! Aah!
I could've moved to another room...
on the third floor, where I might not have heard them.
Oh, baby!
But I didn't.
Ohh!
Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!
Ohh! Ohh! Aaahh!
Aah! Aah! Aah!
- Aah! Ohhh! Ohh! - Ow!
Ohh!
What are you doin'?
Just goin' to bed.
Want to finish her off?
Uhh... oh!
No.
No, thank you.
I found the cigarettes.
Who are you talking to?
Shut up.
I became the calm little center of the world.
I was the Zen master.
Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!
I wrote little haiku poems.
I e-mailed them to everyone.
Is that your blood?
Some of it, yeah.
You can't smoke in here.
Take the rest of the day off.
Come back Monday with some clean clothes.
Get yourself together.
I got right in everyone's hostile little face.
Yes, these are bruises from fighting.
Yes, I'm comfortable with that.
I... am enlightened.
You give up the condo life...
give up all your flaming worldly possessions...
go live in a dilapidated house
in a toxic waste part of town...
and you have to come home to this.
Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!
Hello?
Yes. This is Detective Stern
with the Arson Unit.
We have some new information
about the incident at your former condo.
Yes?
I don't know if you're aware,
but it seems that someone sprayed freon
into your front door lock,
then tapped it with a chisel to shatter the cylinder.
No, I wasn't aware of that at all.
I am Jack's cold sweat.
Does this sound strange to you?
Uh, yes, sir. Strange. Very strange.
The dynamite...
Dynamite?
left a residue
of ammonium oxylate potassium chloride.
Do you know what this means?
No. What does it mean?
It means it was homemade.
I'm sorry. This is just coming
as quite a shock to me, sir.
See, whoever set this homemade dynamite
could've blown out your pilot light
days before the actual explosion.
The gas was just the detonator.
Who would go and do such a thing?
I'll ask the questions.
Tell him. Tell him the liberator
who destroyed my property has realigned my perception.
Excuse me. Are you there?
No, I am listening. It's a little hard to know
what to make of all this.
Have you recently made enemies with anyone
who might have access to homemade dynamite?
- Enemies? - Reject the basic
assumption of civilization,
especially the importance of material possessions.
Son, this is serious.
Yes, I know it's serious.
I mean that.
Yes, it's very serious.
Look, nobody takes this more seriously than me.
That condo was my life.
OK? I loved every stick of furniture in that place.
That was not just a bunch of stuff
that got destroyed.
It was me!
I'd like to thank the Academy.
Is this not a good time for you?
Just tell him you fuckin' did it.
Shhh!
Tell him you blew it all up.
That's what he wants to hear.
Are you still there?
Wait. Are you saying that I'm a suspect?
No, no. I may need to talk to you a little further,
so how about you just lettin' me know if you're gonna leave town?
OK?
OK.
Except for their humping,
Tyler and Marla were never in the same room.
My parents pulled this exact same act for years.
The condom is the glass slipper of our generation.
You slip one on when you meet a stranger.
You... dance all night.
Then you throw it away.
The condom, I mean. Not the stranger.
What?
I got this dress at a thrift store for $1.00.
It was worth every penny.
It's a bridesmaid's dress.
Someone loved it... intensely
for one day...
then tossed it.
Like a Christmas tree...
so special...
then... bam...
it's on the side of the road...
tinsel still clinging to it...
like a sex crime victim...
underwear inside out...
bound with electrical tape.
Well, then it suits you.
You can borrow it sometime.
Get rid of her.
Why can't you get rid of her?
Don't mention me.
I'm 6 years old again,
passing messages between parents.
I really think it's time you got out of here.
Don't worry. I'm leaving.
Not that we don't love your little visits.
You are such a nut case.
I can't even begin to keep up.
Gotta get off
Thanks. Bye.
Gotta get off this merry-go-round
Gotta get on where
You kids.
Wh... Why do you still waste time with her?
I'll say this about Marla...
at least she's tryin' to hit bottom.
What, and I'm not?
Stickin' feathers up your butt
does not make you a chicken.
What are we doin' tonight?
- Tonight? - Yeah.
We make soap.
Really.
To make soap, first we render fat.
The salt balance has to be just right,
so the best fat for making soap comes from humans.
Wait. What is this place?
A liposuction clinic.
Aha! Pay dirt.
The richest, creamiest fat in the world.
Fat of the land.
Come on.
Oh, God! Oh!
Get another one. Unhh!
As the fat renders, the tallows float to the surface.
Like in Boy Scouts.
I can imagine you as a Boy Scout.
Keep stirrin'.
Once the tallow hardens,
we skim off a layer of glycerin.
If you were to add nitric acid, you got nitroglycerin.
If you were then to add sodium nitrate
and a dash of sawdust, you got dynamite.
Yeah, with enough soap,
we could blow up just about anything.
Tyler was full of useful information.
Now, ancient peoples found that clothes got cleaner
when they washed them at a certain point in the river.
- You know why? - No.
Human sacrifices were once made
on the hills above this river.
Bodies burned. Water seeped into the wood and ashes
to create lye.
This is lye, the crucial ingredient.
Once it mixed with the melted fat of bodies,
a thick, white, soapy discharge
crept into the river. May I see your hand, please?
What is this?
This... is chemical burn.
Uh... Aah! Aah!
It'll hurt more than you've ever been burned,
and you will have a scar.
If meditation worked for cancer, it could work for this.
Stay with the pain. Don't shove to center.
No, no! Oh, God!
Look at your hand.
The first soap was made from the ashes of heroes,
like the first monkey shot into space.
Without pain, without sacrifice,
we would have nothin'.
I tried not to think of the the words "sear" or "flesh. "
Stop it! This is your pain.
This is your burning hand. It's right here.
I'm going to my cave.
I'm going to my cave and find my power animal.
No! Don't deal with it the way those dead people do!
Come on!
I get the point! OK! Please!
No. What you're feeling is premature enlightenment.
This is the greatest moment of your life, man,
and you're off somewhere...
Shut up.
Our fathers were our models for God.
If our fathers bailed,
what does that tell you about God?
No, no.
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.
We don't need Him.
We don't! I agree!
Fuck damnation, man. Fuck redemption.
We are God's unwanted children?
So be it!
Listen! You can run water over your hand
to make it worse, or... look at me...
or you can use vinegar to neutralize the burn.
Please let me have some! Please!
First you have to give up.
First you have to know, not fear,
know that someday you're gonna die.
You don't know how this feels!
It's only after we've lost everything
that we're free to do anything.
OK.
Congratulations.
You're one step closer to hitting bottom.
Tyler sold his soap to department stores
at $20 a bar.
God knows what they charged.
This is the best soap.
Why, thank you, Suzie.
It was beautiful.
We were selling rich women
their own fat asses back to them.
He was wearing his yellow tie.
I didn't even wear a tie to work anymore.
"The first rule of Fight Club
is you don't talk about Fight Club"?
I'm half asleep again.
I must've left the original in the copy machine.
"The second rule of Fight Club... " Is this yours?
Huh?
Pretend you're me.
Make a managerial decision.
You find this. What would you do?
Well, I gotta tell ya...
I'd be very, very careful who you talk to about that.
Because the person who wrote that...
is dangerous.
And this buttoned-down, oxford-cloth psycho
might just snap
and then stalk from office to office
with an Armilade AR-10 carbine gas-powered
semi-automatic weapon,
pumping round after round
into colleagues and coworkers.
This might be someone you've known for years...
someone very... very... close to you.
Tyler's words coming out of my mouth.
And I used to be such a nice guy.
Maybe you shouldn't bring me every little piece of trash
you happen to pick up.
Liability.
My tit's gonna rot off.
Will you excuse me? I need to take this.
What're you talking about?
I need you to check and see if there's a lump in my breast.
Go to a hospital.
I can't afford to throw money away on a doctor.
I don't know about this, Marla.
Please?
She didn't call Tyler.
I'm neutral in her book.
That's nice.
Taking food to Mrs...
Hannaburr, Mrs. Raines?
Who are they... exactly?
Tragically, they're dead.
I'm alive, and I'm in poverty.
You want any?
No. No.
I got one for you.
Thanks for the thought.
What happened to your hand?
Uh... nothin'.
Right there.
Uhh.
Feel anything?
No.
Well, make sure.
OK, I'm... I'm pretty sure.
You feel nothing.
No. Nothing.
Well, that's a relief.
Thank you.
Uh, um... no problem.
I wish I could return the favor.
There's not a lot of breast cancer in the men in my family.
Could check your prostate.
I think I'm OK.
Well, thanks, anyway.
Are we done?
Yeah, we're done. See you... around.
Cornelius?
Cornelius!
It's me...
Bob!
Hey... Bob.
Hey. Uhh!
We all thought you were dead.
No, no. Still here.
How are you, Bob?
Better than I've ever been in my whole life.
Really. You still remaining men together?
No, no. I got somethin' so much better now.
Really. What is it?
Well...
first rule is...
I'm not supposed to talk about it.
And the second rule is,
I'm not supposed to talk about it.
And the third rule is...
Bob. Bob. I'm a member.
Look at my face, Bob.
That's fuckin'... That's fuckin' great.
I've... I've never seen you there.
I go Tuesdays and Thursdays.
I go Saturday.
Congratulations.
Yeah. Hey, to both of us, right?
Have you heard about the guy that invented this thing?
Well, uh, yeah, actually. I...
I hear all kinds of things.
Supposedly... he was born in a mental institution.
And he sleeps only one hour a night.
He's a great man.
Oh...
Do you know about Tyler Durden?
Ha ha ha!
Take him down!
I didn't hurt you, did I?
Actually, you did.
Thank you for this.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Fight Club.
Bob. Bob. Bob. Bob.
This was mine and Tyler's gift...
our gift to the world.
Look around. Look around.
I see a lot of new faces.
- Ha ha! - Ha ha!
Shut up!
Which means a lot of you
have been breaking the first 2 rules of Fight Club.
Man, I see in Fight Club
the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived.
I see all this potential.
And I see squandering.
God damn it.
An entire generation pumping gas...
waiting tables...
slaves with white collars.
Advertising has its taste in 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.
We're slowly learning that fact.
And we're very, very pissed off.
- Yeah! - Yeah!
First rule of Fight Club is you do not talk about...
Who are you?
Who am I?
Yeah.
There's a sign in the front
that says "Lou's Tavern. "
I'm fuckin' Lou.
Who the fuck are you?
Tyler Durden.
Who told you motherfuckers that you could use my place?
We have a deal worked out with Irvin.
Irvin?
Irvin's at home with a broken collarbone.
He don't own this place.
I do.
How much money is he gettin' for this?
There is no money.
- Really. Ain't that somethin'? - Free to all.
It is, actually.
Look, stupid fuck...
I want everybody outta here right now.
Hey. You should join our club.
Did you hear what I just said?
You and your friend.
Oomp!
Uhh!
You hear me now?!
No, I didn't quite catch that, Lou.
Ooh!
Pfft!
Ohhh...
Still not gettin' it.
Aah! OK, OK, OK. I got it.
I got it. I got it. Shit, I lost it.
Ooh!
Back! All of you!
Everybody back.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Ha ha ha ha ha!
Aw, Lou...
Come on, man.
We really like this place.
Ohh!
Ohhh...
- That's right, Lou, get it... - Shut the fuck up!
Oh, yeah!
Yeah! Ha ha ha ha ha!
Ho ho ho ha ha ha!
Think that's fuckin' funny?!
Ho ho, ho! Ha ha ha ha!
Ha ha ha ha... Ohh! Ho ho ho!
Fuckin' guys are loony, I'm tellin' ya.
Unbelievable. Aah!
You don't know where I've been, Lou.
- Oh, my God! - Ha ha ha!
You don't know where I've been! Ha ha!
Ha ha ha ha ha!
Lou! Please let us keep it, Lou!
Please, Lou!
Fuckin' use the basement! Christ!
I want your word, Lou! I want your word!
On my mother's honor.
Uhh!
Lou!
Aaahhh!
Thanks, Lou.
You, too, big guy.
See you next week.
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.
You're gonna start a fight.
And you're gonna lose.
Excellent choice, sir.
Hey! Watch out, jackass!
Come on!
Now, this is not as easy as it sounds.
I'm thinkin' you really... What?!
Son of a bitch!
Most people... normal people...
do just about anything to avoid a fight.
Excuse me. You sprayed me with your hose.
Like that?
That's not necessary.
Dave! Go call 911!
Aaaahhh!
Stop it!
Sorry.
What did... Come here!
Leave me alone! You crazy?
Uhh!
Unhh! Uhh!
Bastard!
We need to talk.
OK.
Where to begin?
With your constant absenteeism?
With your unpresentable appearance?
You're up for review.
I am Jack's... complete lack of surprise.
What?
Let's pretend.
You're the Department of Transportation.
OK?
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?
Are you threatening me?
No...
Get the fuck outta here. You're fired.
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.
Who... Who the fuck do you think you are,
you crazy little shit?
Security?
I am Jack's smirking revenge.
Ohh!
Ahh... ahh...
What the hell are you doing?
Ohh... that hurt.
Why would you do that?
Oh, my God.
No! Please stop!
Uhh! Uh... uhh!
What are you doing?
Oh, God, no! Please! No!
For some reason, I thought of my first fight
with Tyler.
No!
Under and behind and inside,
everything this man took for granted...
something horrible had been growing.
Now, look.
Give me the paychecks like I asked,
and you won't ever see me again.
And right then, at our most excellent moment together...
Oh... thank God.
Please don't hit me again. Please...
Telephone, computer, fax machine,
52 weekly paychecks, and 48 airline flight coupons.
We now had corporate sponsorship.
This is how Tyler and I were able to have Fight Club
every night of the week.
Now nobody was the center of Fight Club
except the 2 men fighting.
The leader walked through the crowd, out in the darkness.
Tyler was now involved in a class-action lawsuit
with the Pressman Hotel over the urine content of their soup.
I am Jack's wasted life.
Yeah! Yeah! Ha ha! Yeah!
There you are, sir.
Tyler dreamed up new homework assignments.
He handed them out in sealed envelopes.
Did you know there's a Fight Club
up in Delaware City?
Yeah, I heard.
There's one in Penn's Grove, too.
Bob even found one up in Newcastle.
Yeah. Did you start that one?
No. I thought you did.
Nah.
Pff!
Stop for a second.
Hey, what are we doing?
Turn around.
What are we doing?
Homework assignment.
What kind of homework assignment?
Human sacrifice.
Hey, is that a gun?
Please. Please tell me that's not a gun.
It's a gun.
What are you doing?
Meet me in the back.
Hey, don't fuck around.
Meet me in the back.
On a long enough time line,
the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.
What are you doing? Come on.
Hands behind your back.
God.
Give me your wallet.
Raymond K. Hessel,
1320 Southeast Banning, apartment A.
Small, cramped basement apartment, Raymond?
How did you know?
Because they give shitty basement apartments
letters instead of numbers.
Raymond...
you're going to die.
Oh, my God, no...
Is that your mom and dad?
Mom and dad are going to have to call up
kindly Dr. So-And-So
to pick up your dental records.
You want to know why?
Because there's going to be nothing left of your face.
Aw, come on.
An expired community college student I.D.
What'd you study, Raymond?
S- S-S-Stuff.
Stuff?
Were the midterms hard?
I asked you what you studied.
Biology, mostly.
Why?
I... I don't know.
What did you want to be, Raymond K. Hessel?
The question, Raymond,
was what did you want to be?
Answer him, Raymond! Jesus!
Veterinarian! Veterinarian!
Animals.
Yeah, animal s-s-s...
Stuff. Yeah, I got that.
That means you have to get more schooling.
Too much school.
Would you rather be dead?
No...
Would you rather die, here,
on your knees,
in the back of a convenience store?
No... No, please...
no...
I'm keeping your license.
Gonna check in on you.
I know where you live.
If you're not on your way to becoming a veterinarian
in 6 weeks, you will be dead.
Now run on home.
Run, Forrest, run!
I feel ill.
Imagine how he feels.
Come on, this isn't funny!
That wasn't funny.
What the fuck was the point of that?
Tomorrow will be the most beautiful day
of Raymond K. Hessel's life.
His breakfast will taste better
than any meal you and I have ever tasted.
You had to give it to him.
Come on.
He had a plan.
And it started to make sense
in a Tyler sort of way.
No fear.
No distractions.
The ability to let that which does not matter
truly slide.
You're not your job.
You're not how much money you have in the bank.
You're not the car you drive.
You're not the contents of your wallet.
You're not your fuckin' khakis.
You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.
I'll be out of your way in a sec.
You don't have to go.
Whatever.
No, I mean, uh...
It's OK.
Are you still going to groups?
Yeah.
Chloe's dead.
Ah, Chloe.
When did that happen?
Do you care?
I don't know.
I haven't thought about it in a while.
Yeah, well...
I think it was a smart move on her part.
Hey, listen, uh...
what are you getting out of all this?
What?
I mean, all this.
Why do you keep...
Is this making you happy?
Yeah, well, sometimes.
I don't know. I don't understand.
Why does a weaker person
need to latch on to a strong person?
What is that?
Well, what do you get out of it?
No... It's... It's not the same thing at all.
I mean, we're... It's totally different with us.
We're... We're...
Us?
What do you mean by "us"?
I'm sorry, do you hear this?
Hear what?
You're not hearing all that noise?
Just... Hold on a second.
No, wait. What were you saying?
Don't change the subject. I want to talk about this.
You're not talking about me, are you?
No. What?
That day you came over to my place to play doctor...
what was going on there?
What are you talking about?
Nothing. Nothing.
I don't think so.
Come on, what do you want?
- Look at me. - No. What?
Look at me.
What is that?
It's nothing. Don't worry about it.
Oh, my God.
Who did this?
A person.
Guy or girl?
What do you care if it's a guy or a girl?
What do you care if I ask?
This is none of your business. Leave me alone.
You're afraid to say it.
I am not afraid to say. Let me go.
No! Talk to me.
- No! - Let go of me. Leave me alone.
This conversation...
is over.
I just can't win with you, can I?
Hey, this is getting a little old.
What is... What is all this?
What do you think?
Hey, why do we need bunk beds?
Hey.
Too young.
Sorry.
What's all that?
If the applicant is young, tell him he's too young.
Old, too old. Fat, too fat.
Applicant?
If the applicant then waits for 3 days
without food, shelter or encouragement,
he may then enter and begin his training.
Training for what?
You think this is a game?
You're too young to train here.
End of story. Quit wasting our time.
Get the fuck out of here.
Bad news, friend.
It's not gonna happen.
I'm sorry if there was a misunderstanding.
It's not the end of the world.
Just go away.
Go.
You're trespassing,
and I will have to call the police.
Don't you look at me.
Do you think you're ever getting in this house?
You're never getting in this fucking house.
Never. Now get the fuck off the porch.
Get off the porch!
Sooner or later,
we all became what Tyler wanted us to be.
I'm gonna go inside and I'm gonna get a shovel.
You got 2 black shirts?
Sir.
2 pair of black pants?
Yes, sir.
One pair of black boots?
Sir.
2 pair of black socks?
Sir.
One black jacket?
Sir.
$300 personal burial money?
Yes, sir.
All right.
You're too old, fat man.
Your tits are too big.
Get the fuck off my porch.
Bob. Bob.
Like a monkey
ready to be shot into space.
Space monkey.
Ready to sacrifice himself for the greater good.
You are too fucking old, fatty!
And you.
You're too fucking...
blond!
Get out of here, the both of you!
And so it went.
Listen up, maggots.
You are not special.
You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake.
You are the same decaying organic matter
as everything else.
Tyler built himself an army.
We are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.
We are all part of the same compost heap.
Why was Tyler Durden building an army?
To what purpose?
For what greater good?
In Tyler we trusted.
No, when he was like, "You are not your job," I was like...
Yeah!
Hey, what's all this?
OK!
Go on in and celebrate.
What are we celebrating?
Go on.
Hey.
Let me get that for you.
Investigators are on the scene right now.
Hold on. Police Commissioner Jacobs has just arrived.
Commissioner, Commissioner, could you please tell us
what you think has happened here?
We believe this is one of many
recent acts of vandalism around the city
somehow related to underground boxing clubs.
We'll be coordinating a rigorous investigation.
That was Police Commissioner Jacobs, who just arrived
on the scene here of a 4-alarm fire
that broke out about an hour ago.
She's hot.
Live from the Parker Morris Building,
Lauren Sanchez. Back to you in the studio.
Yeah!
- Ha ha ha ha! - Yeah.
Holy shit.
Yeah!
- Yeah! - Ha ha ha!
Hoo hoo hoo!
What the fuck did you guys do?
...how the blaze started,
but arson investigators are on the premises...
Sir, the first rule of Project Mayhem
is you do not ask questions, sir.
The victory in the war against crime
will not come overnight.
It will take dedication and commitment,
and most of all, cooperation.
The streets are safer now.
There is hope in the inner city.
However, this is only the beginning.
I gotta take a piss.
These are the first steps
in a long journey.
That is why we have created Project Hope...
Bob.
"Helping others with prevention and enforcement. "
Project Hope will be a joint effort
between the police and community leaders.
It will be a powerful new weapon
in the war against crime.
Haahhhh!
Wrap it around the top of his hacky sack, Bob.
Yeah. His balls are ice cold.
Hi.
You're gonna call off your rigorous investigation.
You're gonna publicly state
that there is no underground group, or...
these guys are gonna take your balls.
They're gonna send one to the New York Times,
one to the L.A. Times press release style.
Look...
the people you are after
are the people you depend on.
We cook your meals. We haul your trash.
We connect your calls.
We drive your ambulances.
We guard you while you sleep.
Do not fuck with us.
Fooled ya.
Bob, you're on this one.
Let's go.
I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection.
Hey!
Yeah!
I felt like putting a bullet between the eyes
of every panda that wouldn't screw to save its species.
I wanted to open the dump valves
on oil tankers and smother all those French beaches
I'd never see.
I wanted to breathe smoke.
Where'd you go, psycho boy?
I felt like destroying something beautiful.
Get him to a fuckin' hospital.
Yeah.
Don't worry, Mr. Durden.
Airport parking, long term.
After you, Mr. Durden.
After you.
Something on your mind, dear?
No.
All right, yeah.
Why wasn't I told about Project Mayhem?
First rule of Project Mayhem
is you do not ask questions.
What are you talking about?
Why didn't you include me in the beginning?
Fight Club was the beginning.
Now it's moved out of the basement,
it's called Project Mayhem.
You and I started Fight Club together.
Do you remember that?
It's as much mine as it is yours, you know.
Is this about you and me?
Yeah. I thought we were doing this together.
You're missing the point.
This does not belong to us.
We are not special.
Fuck that. You should've told me.
Hey, Tyler!
Goddamn it, Tyler!
What do you want?! Statement of purpose?
Should I e-mail you?
Should I put this on your action item list?
You decide your own level of involvement!
I will! I want to know certain things first.
The first rule of Project Mayhem...
Shut up!
I want to know what you're thinking.
Fuck what you know.
You need to forget about what you know.
That's your problem.
Forget about what you think you know
about life, about friendship,
and especially about you and me.
What?
What is that supposed to mean? What...
What are you doing?
Guys, what do you wish you'd done before you die?
Paint a self-portrait.
Build a house.
And you?
I don't know. Get in the right lane.
I have to know the answer to this question.
If you were to die right now,
how would you feel about your life?
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! - Not good enough.
Stop fucking around!
Tyler!
Jesus Christ!
Goddamn it!
Fuck you!
Fuck Fight Club.
Fuck Marla. I'm sick of all your shit.
OK.
Quit screwing around. Take the wheel.
Look at you.
Take the wheel!
Look at you! You're fuckin' pathetic!
Why? Why? What are you talking about?
Why do you think I blew up your condo?
What?
Hitting bottom isn't a weekend retreat.
It's not a goddamn seminar.
Stop trying to control everything
and just let go.
Let go!
All right. Fine.
Fine.
I'd never been in a car accident.
This must have been what all those people felt like
before I filed them as statistics in my reports.
Goddamn.
Huh?
Ha ha ha ha ha hahh!
We just had a near-life experience.
In the world I see,
you're stalking elk through the damp canyon forest,
around the ruins of Rockefeller Center.
You'll wear leather clothes
that will last you the rest of your life.
You'll climb the 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 carpool lane
of some abandoned superhighway.
Feel better, champ.
And then...
Tyler?
Tyler was gone.
Was I asleep?
Had I slept?
You are not a beautiful
unique snowflake, do you understand me?
The house had become a living thing,
wet inside from so many people
sweating and breathing.
We are all from the same compost.
So many people moving, the house moved.
Planet Tyler.
I had to hug the walls.
Trapped inside this clockwork of space monkeys.
You can't be smoking in here.
Do you know how much ether we have in this fucking house?
Cooking, working, and sleeping in teams.
Hang on a second.
It's under control, sir.
Where is Tyler?
Sir, the first rule of Project Mayhem is you do not...
Right, uh... OK.
I'm all alone.
My father dumped me.
Tyler dumped me.
I am Jack's broken heart.
What comes next in Project Mayhem,
only Tyler knows.
The second rule is you do not ask questions.
Get the fuck away from me.
Get the fuck away from me!
Who are all these people?
Paper Street Soap Company.
Can I come in?
He's not here.
What?
Tyler isn't here.
Tyler went away.
Tyler's gone.
Lay him down!
Gunshot wounds comin' through!
Clear some fucking room!
What happened?! What happened?!
We were on assignment. We were supposed to kill
2 birds with one stone.
Destroy a piece of corporate art...
Operation Latte Thunder, go.
and trash a franchise coffee bar.
We had it all worked out, sir.
It went smooth until...
Police! Freeze!
Until what?
They shot Bob.
They shot him in the head.
Those fuckin' pigs!
- Ohh! - Ohh!
- Oh, God. - Son of a...
Those motherfuckers!
You morons.
You're running around in ski masks,
trying to blow things up.
What did you think was gonna happen?!
OK, quick,
we gotta get rid of the evidence.
We gotta get rid of this body!
Bury him.
What?
Take him to the garden
and bury him.
Come on, people!
Let's go!
Hey, get the fuck off!
Get away from him!
What are you talking about?
This isn't a fucking piece of evidence,
this is a person!
He's a friend of mine,
and you're not gonna bury him
in the fucking garden.
He was killed serving Project Mayhem, sir.
This is Bob.
But sir, in... in Project Mayhem
we have no names.
No, you listen to me.
This is a man, and he has a name.
And it's Robert Paulson, OK?
Robert Paulson?
He's a man and he's dead now
because of us, all right?
Do you understand that?
I understand.
In death,
a member of Project Mayhem
has a name.
His name is Robert Paulson.
Come on, guys, please, stop it.
His name is Robert Paulson.
Shut up!
This is all over with!
His name is Robert Paulson.
His name is Robert Paulson...
Tyler?
No, this is Detective Stern
at the Arson Unit.
I need to see you in my office...
I went to all the cities
on Tyler's used ticket stubs,
barhopping.
I didn't know how or why,
but I could look at 50 different bars
and somehow I just knew.
I'm looking for Tyler Durden.
It's very important that I talk to him.
I wish I could help you.
Sir.
Every city I went to...
as soon as I set foot off the plane,
I knew a Fight Club was close.
Hey! Hey!
Taxi!
Look at my face. I'm a member.
Now, I just need to know
if you've seen Tyler.
I'm not exposed to...
speak any such information to you,
nor would I, even if I had said information
you want at this juncture, be able.
You're a moron.
I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to leave.
Tyler had been busy.
Setting up franchises all over the country.
Was I asleep?
Had I slept?
Is Tyler my bad dream,
or am I Tyler's?
We've just heard the stories.
What kind of stories?
Like, nobody knows what he looks like.
He has facial
reconstructive surgery
every 3 years.
That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.
Is it true about Fight Club in Miami?
Is Mr. Durden building an army?
I was living in a state
of perpetual déjà vu.
Everywhere I went,
I felt I'd already been there.
It was like following an invisible man.
The smell of dried blood,
dirty, bare footprints circling each other,
that aroma of old sweat, like fried chicken.
The feel of a floor still warm
from the fight the night before.
I was always just one step behind Tyler.
His name is Robert Paulson.
His...
Welcome back, sir.
How have you been?
Do you know me?
Is this a test, sir?
No, this is not a test.
You were in here last Thursday.
Thursday?
You were standing
exactly where you are now,
asking how good security is.
It's tight as a drum, sir.
Who do you think I am?
Are you sure this isn't a test?
No, this is not a test.
You're Mr. Durden.
You're the one who gave me this.
Please return your seat backs
to their full, upright and locked position.
Yeah?
Marla, it's me.
Have we ever done it?
Done what?
Have we ever had sex?
What kind of stupid question is that?
Is it stupid because the answer's yes,
or because the answer's no?
Is this a trick?
No, Marla, I need to know...
You mean you want to know if I think
we were just having sex or making love?
We did make love.
Is that what you're calling it?
Just answer the question,
Marla, please!
Did we do it or not?
You fuck me, then snub me.
You love me, you hate me.
You show me a sensitive side,
then you turn into a total asshole.
Is that a pretty accurate description
of our relationship, Tyler?
We have just lost cabin pressure.
What did you just say?
What is wrong with you?
What did you call me? Say my name!
Tyler Durden. Tyler Durden,
you fucking freak. What's going on?
I'm coming over.
No, wait, Marla, I'm not there...
You broke your promise.
Jesus, Tyler.
You fuckin' talked to her about me.
Tyler, what the fuck is going on here?
I asked you for one thing,
one simple thing.
Why do people think that I'm you?
Answer me!
Sit.
Now answer me.
Why do people think that I'm you?
I think you know.
No, I don't.
Yes, you do.
Why would anyone possibly confuse you with me?
Uh... I... I don't know.
You got it.
No.
Do not fuck with us.
Say it.
Because...
Say it.
Because we're the same person.
That's right.
We are the all-singing, all dancing...
I don't understand this.
You were looking for a way
to change your life.
You could not do this on your own.
All the ways you wish 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 am free
in all the ways that you are not.
Oh, no.
Tyler's not here.
Tyler went away.
- Tyler's gone. - What?
This is impossible.
- No. - This is crazy.
People do it every day.
They talk to themselves.
They see themselves as they'd like to be.
They don't have the courage you have,
to just run with it.
Naturally, you're still wrestling with it,
so sometimes you're still you.
We should do this again sometime.
Other times, you imagine yourself watching me.
If this is your first night at Fight Club,
you have to fight.
Little by little,
you're just letting yourself become...
Tyler Durden.
You are not your job,
or how much money you have in the bank!
No, you have a house.
Rented in your name.
You have jobs, you have a whole life.
You have night jobs because you can't sleep.
Or you stay up and make soap.
Marla... You're fucking Marla, Tyler.
Uh, technically, you're fucking Marla.
But it's all the same to her.
Oh, my God.
Now you see our dilemma.
She knows too much.
I think we're going to have to talk
about how this might compromise our goals.
Wh... What are you saying?
This is... This is bullshit.
I'm not listening to this.
You are insane.
No, you're insane.
And we simply do not have time for this crap.
It's called a changeover.
The movie goes on,
and nobody in the audience
has any idea.
Sir!
Are you checking out?
Yeah, uh, b- bill me.
I need you to initial this list
of phone calls, please.
When were these made?
It says right there, sir,
between 2:00 and 3:30 this morning.
No, I w...
Have I been going to bed
earlier every night?
Have I been sleeping later?
Have I been Tyler longer and longer?
Is anybody here?
Déjà vu all over again.
Yeah, with enough soap,
we could blow up just about anything.
Oh, my God.
1888.
I'm sorry, who am I calling?
1888 Franklin. This is Maintenance.
Hello?
1888 Franklin Street?
Yes. Can I help you?
Hello?
Yeah, yeah.
Uh, I need to talk to your supervisor
right away.
Speaking.
OK, listen to me.
I think something really terrible
is about to happen at your building.
You have got...
It's under control, sir.
Excuse me?
Don't worry about us, sir.
We're solid.
2160.
Marla! Marla!
Hey... Fuck! Wait!
Wait, I gotta talk to you!
Marla, Marla!
Your whacked-out bald freaks
hit me with a fucking broom!
They almost broke my arm!
They were burning their fingertips with lye,
the stink was unbelievable.
Look... Look, listen,
it's gonna take a tremendous act
of faith on your part,
but you've got to hear me out.
Oh, here comes an avalanche of bullshit.
A little more faith than that.
No, listen, I don't want to hear
anything you have to say.
You have every right to be...
Um, I'll just have a coffee, thanks.
Sir, anything you order is free of charge, sir.
Why is it free of charge?
Don't... Don't ask.
Whatever.
I'll have the clam chowder, the fried chicken
with the baked potato with everything,
and a chocolate chiffon pie.
Clean food, please.
In that case, sir, may I advise against
the lady eating the clam chowder?
No clam chowder, thank you.
You've got about 30 seconds.
Marla, I know that I've been acting
very, very strange.
OK, I know that it's got to seem
like there's 2 sides to me...
2 sides?
You're Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jackass.
I deserve that, but...
I've come to realize something
very, very important.
What?
The full extent of our relationship
wasn't really clear to me up until now,
for reasons I'm not going to go into,
but the important thing is, I know
that I haven't been treating you so nice.
Yeah, whatever.
No, no... 15 seconds.
15 seconds, please, please.
15 seconds, don't open your mouth.
I'm trying to tell you that I'm sorry.
Because what I've come to realize
is that I really like you, Marla.
You do?
I really do.
I care about you
and I don't want anything bad
to happen to you because of me.
Marla, your life is in danger.
What?
You need to leave town for a while.
Get out of any major city
and just go camping or something.
You're an insane person.
No, no, I've involved you
in something terrible that's about to happen.
No. Shut up,
shut up!
Listen, I tried, Tyler.
I really tried.
I know you did.
There are things about you 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.
I know, and I'm sorry.
Yeah, you're sorry, I'm sorry,
everyone's sorry. But...
I can't do this anymore.
I can't.
And I won't.
I'm gone.
You can't leave, Marla,
you're not safe!
No! Leave me alone!
Marla, I'm trying to protect you.
I don't ever want to see you again!
That's fine, if that's what it takes...
You wait. Wait right here.
Hold it right there.
Shut up!
Take this money and get on this bus.
And I promise you
I will never bother you again
if that's what you want.
Shut up!
Please get on the bus.
Please get on the bus!
Why are you doing this?
Because they think you're 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.
I'm not paying this back.
I consider it asshole tax.
That's fine. Remember, stay out of major cities
for at least a couple of days, OK?
Tyler.
You're the worst thing
that ever happened to me.
Hello.
I need you to arrest me.
I am the leader of a terrorist organization
responsible for numerous acts of vandalism,
and assault all over this city.
...in the metropolitan area,
with probably a couple hundred members.
Chapters have sprung up
in 5 or 6 other major cities already.
This is a tightly regimented organization,
with many cells capable of operating
completely independent of central leadership.
Look, look, go to that house, OK?
1537 Paper Street.
That's our headquarters.
In the back, buried in the garden,
you'll find the body of Robert Paulson.
In the basement,
you're gonna find some bathtubs
that have been used very recently
to make large quantities of nitroglycerin.
I believe the plan
is to blow up the headquarters
of these credit card companies,
and the T.R.W. building.
Why these buildings?
Why credit card companies?
If you erase the debt record,
then we all go back to zero.
It'll create total chaos.
Keep him talking.
I need to make a phone call.
I really admire what you're doing.
What?
You're a brave man to order this.
You're a genius, sir.
You said, if anyone ever interferes
with Project Mayhem... even you...
we gotta get his balls.
It's useless to fight.
This is really a powerful gesture,
Mr. Durden.
It'll set quite an example.
You're making a big mistake, fellas.
You said you'd say that.
I'm not Tyler Durden!
You told us you'd say that, too.
All right, I am Tyler Durden.
Listen to me,
I'm giving you a direct order.
We are aborting this mission, right now.
You said you would definitely say that.
Are you fucking out of your minds?
You're police officers!
Somebody timing this?
No! No!
Keep your mouth shut!
Shit.
Yeah?
Hey, you know, some of this information
checks out.
Let's go over to that house
on Paper Street.
Be right there.
Hey! Wait!
I got him.
Sir, we have to do this, sir.
Stop fighting.
Where's the rubber band?
Get away from me!
Drop that fucking knife!
Drop it!
Back up.
Face down on the floor,
both of you, right now!
Get down on the floor!
First person comes out this fucking door
gets a... gets a lead salad, you understand?
Get away! Get away!
I ran.
I ran until my muscles burned
and my veins pumped battery acid.
Then I ran some more.
What the fuck are you doing?
Running around in your underpants.
Man, you look like a crazy person.
No, I'm onto you.
I know what's going on here.
Well come on, then.
I got us a great place to watch from.
It'll be like pay-per-view.
Oh, Christ.
Now what are you doing?
I'm stopping this.
Why? Greatest thing you've ever done, man.
No, I can't let this happen.
You know there are 10 other bombs
in 10 other buildings.
God damn it, since when is Project Mayhem
about murder?
The buildings are empty.
Security and maintenance, all our people.
We're not killing anyone, man,
we're setting 'em free.
Bob is dead.
They shot him in the head.
You wanna make an omelet,
you gotta break some eggs.
No, I'm not listening to you.
You're not even there.
Wouldn't do that.
Not unless I knew which wires were what.
If you know, then I know.
Or...
maybe I knew you'd know,
so I spent the whole day
thinking about the wrong ones.
You think?
Oh, heavens no, not the green one.
Pull any one but the green one.
I asked you not to do that!
Tyler, get away from the van.
Tyler, I'm not kidding!
Get away from the van!
God damn it!
Whoa!
OK, you are now firing a gun
at your imaginary friend
near 400 gallons of nitroglycerin!
Look, Tyler, Tyler!
Ahh!
Aw, come on.
Don't go.
What?!
3 minutes.
This is it.
The beginning.
Ground zero.
I think this is about where we came in.
Would you like to say a few words
to mark the occasion?
I'm sorry?
I still can't think of anything.
Ah, flashback humor.
It's getting exciting now.
2 and 1/2.
Think of everything
we've accomplished, man.
Out these windows, we will view
the collapse of financial history.
One step closer to economic equilibrium.
Why is she here?
Tying up loose ends.
Put me down, you bald-headed fucks!
I'm begging you,
please don't do this.
I'm not doing this.
We are doing this.
This is what we want.
No, I don't want this.
Right, except you is meaningless now.
We have to forget about you.
Jesus, you're a voice in my head.
You're a voice in mine.
You're a fucking hallucination,
why can't I get rid of you?
You need me.
No, I don't, I really don't anymore.
Hey, you created me.
I didn't create some loser alter ego
to make myself feel better.
Take some responsibility.
I do.
I am responsible for all of it,
and I accept that.
So please, I'm begging you,
please call this off.
Have I ever let us down?
How far have you come because of me?
I will bring us through this.
As always,
I will carry you, kicking and screaming,
and in the end, you will thank me.
Tyler.
Tyler, I'm grateful to you
for everything
that you've done for me.
But this is too much.
I don't want this.
What do you want?!
Want to go back to the shit job,
fucking condo world, watching sitcoms?
Fuck you. I won't do it.
Oh, God, this can't be happening.
It's already done, so shut up.
60 seconds.
Can you see alright?
I can figure this out.
I can figure this out, this isn't even real.
You're not real, that gun isn't...
That gun isn't even in your hand.
The gun's in my hand.
Hey, good for you. Doesn't change a thing.
Why do you want to put a gun to your head?
Not my head, Tyler.
Our head.
Interesting.
Where are you going with this, I KEA boy?
Hey, it's you and me.
Friends.
Tyler...
I want you to really listen to me.
OK.
My eyes are open.
What's that smell?
Where is everybody?
I don't know, what's goin' on?
Mr. Durden!
Oh, my God.
Sir?
Are you, uh...
Are you alright, sir?
Oh, yeah, I'm OK.
You look terrible, sir.
What happened?
Oh, nothing. It's no problem.
Oh, no, no, sir, he's not kidding.
You look really awful.
You need medical assistance.
- I'm fine. - Ugh.
Look, I'm fine.
Everything's fine.
Let... Let her go.
Christ almighty!
You!
Hi, Marla.
Leave her with me,
get your stuff,
I'll meet you downstairs.
Are you sure?
Yes, I'm sure.
You fucker!
What kind of sick fucking game
are you playing now,
putting me on a fucking bu...
Oh, my God, your face!
Yeah, I know.
What happened?
Don't ask.
You're shot.
Yes, I'm shot.
Oh, my God.
I can't believe he's standing.
One tough motherfucker.
Who did this?
I did, actually.
Find some gauze.
You shot yourself?
Yes, but it's OK.
Marla, look at me.
I'm really OK.
Trust me.
Everything's gonna be fine.
You met me at a very strange time
in my life.
With your feet on the air
And your head on the ground
Try this trick and spin it, yeah
Your head'll collapse
If there's nothing in it
And you'll ask yourself
Where is my mind?
Way out in the water, see it swimming
I was swimming in the Caribbean
Animals were hiding behind the rock
Except for little fish
When they told me east is west
Trying to talk to me, coy koi
Where is my mind?
Way out in the water, see it swimming
With your feet on the air
And your head on the ground
Try this trick and spin it, yeah
Your head'll collapse if there's nothing in it
And you'll ask yourself
Where is my mind?
Way out in the water, see it swimming
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