SCREEN BLACK

JACK (V.O.)
People were always asking me, did I
know Tyler Durden.

FADE IN:

INT. SOCIAL ROOM - TOP FLOOR OF HIGH RISE -- NIGHT

TYLER has one arm around Jack's shoulder; the other hand
holds a HANDGUN with the barrel lodged in JACK'S MOUTH.
Tyler is sitting in Jack's lap.

They are both sweating and disheveled, both around 30; Tyler
is blond, handsome; and Jack, brunette, is appealing in a
dry sort of way. Tyler looks at his watch.

TYLER
One minute.
(looking out window)
This is the beginning. We're at
ground zero. Maybe you should say a
few words, to mark the occasion.

JACK
... i... ann....iinn.. ff....nnyin...

JACK (V.O.)
With a gun barrel between your teeth,
you only speak in vowels.

Jack tongues the barrel to the side of his mouth.

JACK
(still distorted)
I can't think of anything.

JACK (V.O.)
With my tongue, I can feel the
rifling in the barrel. For a second,
I totally forgot about Tyler's whole
controlled demolition thing and I
wondered how clean this gun is.

Tyler checks his watch.

TYLER
It's getting exciting now.

JACK (V.O.)
That old saying, how you always hurt
the one you love, well, it works both
way.

Jack turns so that he can see down -- 31 STORIES.

JACK (V.O.)
We have front row seats for this
Theater of Mass Destruction. The
Demolitions Committee of Project
Mayhem wrapped the foundation columns
of ten buildings with blasting
gelatin. In two minutes, primary
charges will blow base charges, and
those buildings will be reduced to
smoldering rubble. I know this
because Tyler knows this.

TYLER
Look what we've accomplised.
(checks watch)
Thirty seconds.

JACK (V.O.)
Somehow, I realize all of this -- the
gun, the bombs, the revolution -- is
really about Marla Singer.

PULL BACK from Jack's face. It's pressed against TWO LARGE
BREASTS that belong to...BOB, 45, a moose of a man. Jack is
engulfed by Bob in an intense embrace. Bob weeps openly.

JACK (V.O.)
Bob had ♥♥♥♥♥ tits.

PULL BACK to wide on...

INT. CHURCH MEETING ROOM - NIGHT

Men are paired off, hugging, talking in emotional tones.
Near the door, a SIGN on a stand: "REMAINING MEN TOGETHER."

JACK (V.O.)
This was a support group for men with
testicular cancer. The big moosie
slobbering all over me was Bob.

BOB
We're still men.

JACK
Yes. We're men. Men is what we are.

JACK (V.O.)
Six months ago, Bob's testicles were
removed. Then hormone therapy. He
developed ♥♥♥♥♥ tits because his
testosterone was too high and his
body upped the estrogen. That was
where my head fit -- into his huge,
sweating tits that hung enormous, the
way we think of God's as big.

BOB
They're gonna have to open my pec's
again to drain the fluid.

Bob hugs tighter; then looks with empathy into Jack's eyes.

BOB
Okay. You cry now.

Jack looks at Bob.

JACK (V.O.)
Wait. Back up. Let me start earlier.

INT. JACK'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Jack lies in bed, staring at the ceiling.

JACK (V.O.)
For six months. I could not sleep.

INT. COPY ROOM - DAY

Jack, sleepy, stands over a copy machine. His Starbucks cup
sits on the lid, moving back and forth as the machine copies.

JACK (V.O.)
With insomnia, nothing is real.
Everything is far away. Everything
is a copy of a copy of a copy.

Other people make copies, all with Starbucks cups, sipping.
Jack picks up his cup and his copies and leaves.

INT. JACK'S OFFICE - SAME

Jack, sipping, stares blankly at a Starbucks bag on the
floor, full of newspapers and FAST FOOD GARBAGE.

JACK (V.O.)
When deep space exploration ramps up,
it will be corporations that name
everything. The IBM Stellar Sphere.
The Philip Morris Galaxy. Planet
Starbucks.

Jack looks up as a pudgy man, Jack's BOSS, enters, Starbucks
cup in hand, and slides a stack of reports on Jack's desk.

BOSS
I'm going to need you out-of-town a
little more this week. We've got
some "red-flags" to cover.

JACK (V.O.)
It must've been Tuesday. he was
wearing his "cornflower-blue" tie.

JACK
(listless management speak)
You want me to de-prioritize my
current reports until you advise of
a status upgrade?

BOSS
You need to make these your primary
"action items."

JACK (V.O.)
He was full of pep. Must've had his
grande latte enema.

BOSS
Here are your flight coupons. Call
me from the road if there are any
snags. Your itinerary...

Jack hides a yawn, pretends to listen.

INT. BATHROOM - JACK'S CONDO - NIGHT

Jack sits on the toilet, CORDLESS PHONE to his ear, flips
through an IKEA catalog. There's a stack of old Playboy
magazines and other catalogs nearby.

JACK (V.O.)
Like everyone else, I had become a
slave to the IKEA nesting instinct.

JACK
(into phone)
Yes. I'd like to order the Erika
Pekkari slip covers.

Jack drops the open catalog on the floor.

MOVE IN ON CATALOG -- ON PHOTO of COFFEETABLE SET...

JACK (V.O.)
If I saw something like clever coffee
table sin the shape of a yin and
yang, I had to have it.

PAN TO PHOTO of ARMCHAIR...

JACK (V.O.)
Like the Johanneshov armchair in the
Strinne green stripe pattern...

INT. LIVING ROOM/DINING AREA/KITCHEN

The armchair APPEARS. PAN OVER next to armchair...