Could you leave? Get lost! Scram! What about Bobbo? It’s your dog. Both of you. Leave, both of you! Now that’s not very nice of you. No one understands me. What the hell are you talking about? No one bloody understands me! No one likes me either. No one! Jesus Christ! You know
perfectly well that I like you. It’s not true. It’s all a big goddamn lie. No one likes me! – I like you.
– No one! Bobbo likes you,
and he doesn’t lie, does he? He bloody well does too. Get out of here! Both of you! Come, Bobbo. Maybe things would be better
if I didn’t exist. So you wouldn’t have to feel guilty. Now that really hurts my feelings. Do you think I want you to die?
That won’t make things better. You have to do your best in life.
Or at least try. And after all,
there’s lots of fun things, right? – We had a good time yesterday.
– Sure, yesterday. No… If only I had a motorcycle. Then I’d take off,
get away from all this shit. – Right away.
– Yeah, yeah. By the way, the oven is on. – What’s in it?
– A roast. – What kind of roast?
– Veal. Piss off! Both of you! I might be over in a while. A motorcycle is my dream,
I’d be so happy that I’d scream. A lovely thing with blazing speed
to leave this place is what I need. It takes a pile of dough… …and a license, you know. But I’m all out… …and that I’m pretty pissed
and mad about. Hardly ever dreams come true,
same thing goes for my dreams too. Here I sit in a park and stare. The whole world waits for me
out there. I’m a miserable wench… on an ugly bench. – Is it strange to pray?
– No, it’s OK. For a bike to take me far away. Nobody understands me.