Fight Club

Narrator:
You wake up at Seatac, SFO, LAX. You wake up at O'Hare, Dallas-Fort Worth, BWI. Pacific, mountain, central. Lose an hour, gain an hour. This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time. You wake up at Air Harbor International. If you wake up at a different time, in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?

Tyler Durden:
This is your life and it's ending one minute at a time.

Tyler Durden:
F*** off with your sofa units and serine green stripe patterns, I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let... lets evolve, let the chips fall where they may.

Tyler Durden:
Fight Club was the beginning, now it's moved out of the basement, it's called Project Mayhem.

Tyler Durden:
Only after disaster can we be resurrected.

Tyler Durden:
This is your life... good to the last drop.

Tyler Durden:
Now as a question of etiquette, do I give you the ass or the crotch?

Narrator:
This is crazy...

Tyler Durden:
People do it everyday, 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.

Tyler Durden:
I want you to do me a favor.

Narrator:
Yeah, sure...

Tyler Durden:
I want you to his me as hard as you can.

Tyler Durden:
Did you know if you mixed equal parts of gasoline and frozen orange juice concentrate you can make napalm?

Narrator:
No. I did not know that. Is that true?

Tyler Durden:
That's right; one can make all kinds of explosives using simple household items...

Narrator:
Really?

Tyler Durden:
If one were so inclined.

Tyler Durden:
F*** damnation, man! F*** redemption! We are God's unwanted children? So be it!

Narrator:
OK. Give me some water!

Tyler Durden:
Listen, you can run water over your hand and make it worse or...

Tyler Durden:
look at me... or you can use vinegar and neutralize the burn.

Narrator:
Please let me have it... *Please*!

Tyler Durden:
First you have to give up, first you have to *know*... not fear... *know*... that someday you're gonna die.

Tyler Durden:
All right, if the applicant is young, tell him he's too young. Old, too old. Fat, too fat. If the applicant then waits for three days without food, shelter, or encouragement he may then enter and begin his training.

Narrator:
We have front row seats for this theater of mass destruction. The demolition committee of Project Mayhem wrapped the foundation columns of a dozen buildings with blasting gelatin. In two 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.

Robert 'Bob' Paulson:
Go ahead, Cornelius, you can cry.

Marla Singer:
Candy stripe a cancer ward. It's not my problem.

Marla Singer:
I've got a stomachful of Xanax. I took what was left of a bottle. It might have been too much.

Marla Singer:
Your whacked out bald freaks hit me with a f***ing broom! They almost broke my arm! They we're burning their fingertips with lye, the stink was unbelievable!

Tyler Durden:
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.

Narrator:
Tyler, what the f*** in going on here?

Tyler Durden:
I ask you for one thing, one simple thing.

Narrator:
Why do people think that I'm you? Answer me!

Tyler Durden:
Sit.

Narrator:
Now answer me, why do people think that I'm you.

Tyler Durden:
I think you know.

Narrator:
No, I don't.

Tyler Durden:
Yes, you do. Why would anyone possibly confuse you with me?

Narrator:
Uh... I... I don't know.

Tyler Durden:
You got it.

Narrator:
No.

Tyler Durden:
Say it.

Narrator:
Because...

Tyler Durden:
Say it.

Narrator:
Because we're the same person.

Tyler Durden:
That's right.

Marla Singer:
My God. I haven't been f***ed like that since grade school.

Narrator:
I am Jack's smirking revenge.

Tyler Durden:
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 us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy sh*t 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.

Narrator:
First person that comes out this f***ing door gets a... gets a *lead salad*, you understand?

Tyler Durden:
All the ways you wish you could be, that's me. I look like you wanna look, I f*** like you wanna f***, I am smart, capable, and most importantly, I am free in all the ways that you are not.

Narrator:
This is Bob. Bob has b*tch tits.

Tyler Durden:
Its not until you lose everything that you are free to do anything

Richard Chesler:
Is that your blood?

Narrator:
Some of it, yeah.

Tyler Durden:
In the world I see - you are 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-thick 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.

Narrator:
I felt like destroying something beautiful.

Tyler Durden:
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 f***ing khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.

Narrator:
When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep... and you're never really awake.

Tyler Durden:
Listen up, maggots. You are not special. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else.

Narrator:
On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.

Tyler Durden:
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 two guys to a fight. Fifth rule, one fight at a time, fellas. Sixth rule, no shirt, 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.

Narrator:
When people think you're dying, they really, really listen to you, instead of just...

Marla Singer:
- instead of just waiting for their turn to speak?

Tyler Durden:
It's only after you've lost everything that you're free to do anything.

Tyler Durden:
Man, you've got some f***ed up friends, I'm tellin' ya. Limber, though...

Tyler Durden:
The things you own end up owning you.

Narrator:
Well, what do you want me to do? You just want me to hit you?

Tyler Durden:
C'mon, do me this one favor.

Narrator:
Why?

Tyler Durden:
Why? I don't know why; I don't know. Never been in a fight. You?

Narrator:
No, but that's a good thing.

Tyler Durden:
No, it is not. How much can you know about yourself, 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.

Narrator:
This is crazy.

Tyler Durden:
So go crazy. Let 'er rip.

Narrator:
I don't know about this.

Tyler Durden:
I don't either. Who gives a sh*t? No one's watching. What do you care?

Narrator:
Whoa, wait, this is crazy. You want me to hit you?

Tyler Durden:
That's right.

Narrator:
What, like in the face?

Tyler Durden:
Surprise me.

Narrator:
This is so f***ing stupid...

Tyler Durden:
Motherf***er! You hit me in the ear!

Narrator:
Well, Jesus, I'm sorry.

Tyler Durden:
Ow, Christ... why the ear, man?

Narrator:
Guess I f***ed it up...

Tyler Durden:
No, that was perfect!

Tyler Durden:
We just had a near-life experience.

Tyler Durden:
OK: any historic figure.

Narrator:
I'd fight Gandhi.

Tyler Durden:
Good answer.

Narrator:
How about you?

Tyler Durden:
Lincoln.

Narrator:
Lincoln?

Tyler Durden:
Big guy, big reach. Skinny guys fight 'til they're burger.

Narrator:
A new car built by my company leaves somewhere traveling at 60 mph. The rear differential locks up. The car crashes and burns with everyone trapped inside. Now, should we initiate a recall? Take the number of vehicles in the field, A, multiply by the probable rate of failure, B, multiply 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.

Business woman on plane:
Are there a lot of these kinds of accidents?

Narrator:
You wouldn't believe.

Business woman on plane:
Which car company do you work for?

Narrator:
A major one.

Tyler Durden:
Did you know that if you mix equal parts of gasoline and frozen orange juice concentrate you can make napalm?

Narrator:
No, I did not know that; is that true?

Tyler Durden:
That's right... One could make all kinds of explosives, using simple household items.

Narrator:
Really...?

Tyler Durden:
If one were so inclined.

Narrator:
Tyler, you are by far the most interesting single-serving friend I've ever met... see I have this thing: everything on a plane is single-serving...

Tyler Durden:
Oh I get it, it's very clever.

Narrator:
Thank you.

Tyler Durden:
How's that working out for you?

Narrator:
What?

Tyler Durden:
Being clever.

Narrator:
Great.

Tyler Durden:
Keep it up then... Right up.

Tyler Durden:
Now a question of etiquette; as I pass, do I give you the ass or the crotch...?

Tyler Durden:
You have a kind of sick desperation in your laugh.

Tyler Durden:
Shut up! Our fathers were our models for God. If our fathers bailed, what does that tell you about God?

Narrator:
No, no, I... don't...

Tyler Durden:
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 Durden:
Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken.

Narrator:
I am Jack's cold sweat.

Marla Singer:
You're not getting this back. I consider it a**hole tax.

Narrator:
If I did have a tumor, I'd name it Marla.

Narrator:
What do you do for a living?

Tyler Durden:
Why? So you can pretend like you're interested?

Narrator:
I am Jack's raging bile duct.

Narrator:
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.

Chloe:
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...

Group Leader:
Thank you, Chloe... everyone, let's thank Chloe.

Narrator:
A 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.

Narrator:
I ran. I ran until my muscles burned and my veins pumped battery acid. Then I ran some more.

Narrator:
After fighting, everything else in your life got the volume turned down.

Narrator:
If you wake up at a different time in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?

Tyler Durden:
Without pain, without sacrifice, we would have nothing.

Narrator:
And then, something happened. I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.

Tyler Durden:
Do you know what a duvet is?

Narrator:
It's a comforter...

Tyler Durden:
It's a blanket. Just a blanket.

Tyler Durden:
Goddamn!

Tyler Durden:
You just had a near-life experience!

Narrator:
Everywhere I travel, tiny life. Single-serving sugar, single-serving cream, single pat of butter. The microwave Cordon Bleu hobby kit. Shampoo-conditioner combos, sample-packaged mouthwash, tiny bars of soap. The people I meet on each flight? They're single-serving friends.

Narrator:
I'll tell you: we'll split up the week, okay? You take lymphoma, and tuberculosis...

Marla Singer:
You take tuberculosis. My smoking doesn't go over at all.

Narrator:
Okay, good, fine. Testicular cancer should be no contest, I think.

Marla Singer:
Well, technically, I have more of a right to be there than you. You still have your balls.

Narrator:
You're kidding.

Marla Singer:
I don't know... am I?

Narrator:
No, no! What do you want?

Marla Singer:
I'll take the parasites.

Narrator:
You can't have both the parasites, but while you take the blood parasites...

Marla Singer:
I want brain parasites.

Narrator:
I'll take the blood parasites. But I'm gonna take the organic brain dementia, okay?

Marla Singer:
I want that.

Narrator:
You can't have the whole brain, that's...

Marla Singer:
So far you have four, I only have two!

Narrator:
Okay. Take both the parasites. They're yours. Now we both have three...

Narrator:
I am Jack's complete lack of surprise.

Tyler Durden:
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.

Narrator:
There's always that.

Tyler Durden:
Hey, even the Mona Lisa's falling apart.

Marla Singer:
It's cheaper than a movie, and there's free coffee.

Narrator:
Look, nobody takes this more seriously than me. That condo was my life, okay? I loved every stick of furniture in that place. That was not just a bunch of stuff that got destroyed, it was ME!

Narrator:
I'd like to thank the Academy...

Narrator:
I am Jack's wasted life.

Narrator:
I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection.

Tyler Durden:
F*** 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.

Narrator:
I am Jack's broken heart.

Narrator:
Is Tyler my bad dream? Or am I Tyler's?

Narrator:
You met me at a very strange time in my life.

Narrator:
Life insurance pays off triple if you die on a business trip.

Narrator:
Was it ticking?

Airport Security Officer:
Actually throwers don't worry about ticking 'cause modern bombs don't tick.

Narrator:
Sorry, throwers?

Airport Security Officer:
Baggage handlers. But, when a suitcase vibrates, then the throwers gotta call the police.

Narrator:
My suitcase was vibrating?

Airport Security Officer:
Nine times out of ten it's an electric razor, but every once in a while...

Airport Security Officer:
it's a dildo. Of course it's company policy never to, imply ownership in the event of a dildo... always use the indefinite article a dildo, never your dildo.

Narrator:
I don't own...

Narrator:
With a gun barrel between your teeth, you speak only in vowels.

Narrator:
Fight club wasn't about winning or losing. It wasn't about words. The hysterical shouting was in tongues, like at a Pentecostal Church.

Narrator:
I got in everyone's hostile little face. Yes, these are bruises from fighting. Yes, I'm comfortable with that. I am enlightened.

Tyler Durden:
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 Durden:
A liposuction clinic.

Narrator:
Except for their humping, Tyler and Marla were never in the same room. My parents pulled this exact same act for years.

Marla Singer:
A condom is the glass slipper for our generation. You slip one on when you meet a stranger. You dance all night, and then you throw it away. The condom, I mean, not the stranger.

Narrator:
What?

Marla Singer:
I got this dress at a thrift store for one dollar.

Narrator:
It was worth every penny.

Marla Singer:
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.

Marla Singer:
Tinsel still clinging to it. Like a sex crime victim. Underwear inside out. Bound with electrical tape.

Narrator:
Well, then it suits you.

Marla Singer:
You can borrow it sometime.

Tyler Durden:
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.

Narrator:
Martha Stewart.

Tyler Durden:
F*** Martha Stewart. Martha's polishing the brass on the Titanic. It's all going down, man. So f*** off with your sofa units and Strinne green stripe patterns.

Tyler Durden:
She's a predator posing as a house pet.

Narrator:
Marla... the little scratch on the roof of your mouth that would heal if only you could stop tonguing it, but you can't.

Narrator:
You had to give it to him: 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.

Tyler Durden:
Emergency water landing, 600 miles an hour: blank faces, calm as Hindu cows.

Tyler Durden:
Tell him. Tell him, The liberator who destroyed my property has realigned my perceptions.

Narrator:
And then, Tyler was gone.

Marla Singer:
You're the worst thing that's ever happened to me.

Narrator:
People are always asking me if know Tyler Durden.

Tyler Durden:
Self improvement is masturbation. Now self destruction...

Narrator:
What are we doing tonight?

Tyler Durden:
Tonight? We make soap.

Narrator:
Really.

Tyler Durden:
To make soap, first we render fat.

Marla Singer:
You're Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jackass!

Narrator:
I flipped through catalogs and wondered: What kind of dining set defines me as a person?

Narrator:
Marla's philosophy of life is that she might die at any moment. The tragedy, she said, was that she didn't.

Narrator:
I can't get married - I'm a thirty-year-old boy.

Tyler Durden:
Hitting bottom isn't a weekend retreat. It's not a goddamn seminar. Stop trying to control everything and just let go! LET GO!

Tyler Durden:
WHOA! WHOA! WHOA! Ok, you are now firing a gun at your 'imaginary friend' near 400 GALLONS OF NITROGLYCERINE!

Narrator:
Deja vu - all over again.

Tyler Durden:
I'll bring us through this. As always. I'll carry you - kicking and screaming - and in the end you'll thank me.

Narrator:
He was full of pep. Must've had his grande-latte enema.

Narrator:
Every evening I died, and every evening I was born again, resurrected.

Narrator:
We have just lost cabin pressure.

Narrator:
So when the snoody cat, and the courageous dog, with the celebrity voices meet for the first time in reel three, that's when you'll catch a flash of Tyler's contribution to the film.

Narrator:
Nobody knows that they saw it, but they did...

Tyler Durden:
A nice, big, cock...

Narrator:
Even a hummingbird couldn't catch Tyler at work.

Narrator:
You're insane.

Tyler Durden:
No. YOU ARE!

Narrator:
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*.

Marla Singer:
This is cancer right?

Narrator:
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 parasite group Thursdays. Then at Hope, my bi-monthly sickle cell circle. And again at Seize the Day, my tuberculous Friday night. Marla... the big tourist. Her lie reflected my lie. Suddenly I felt nothing. I couldn't cry, so once again I couldn't sleep.

Narrator:
Bob had b*tch tits.

Narrator:
With insomnia, nothing is real. Everything is far away. Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy.

Narrator:
Tyler was a night person. While the rest of us slept, he worked. He had one part time job as a projectionist. See, a movie doesn't come all on one real. It comes on a few. See, there are these little dots on the screen.

Tyler Durden:
In the movie industry, we call them cigarette burns.

Narrator:
That's the cue for a change-over. The movie keeps on going, and nobody in the audience has any clue.

Tyler Durden:
Why would anyone want this sh*t job?

Narrator:
Because it affords him other interesting opportunities.

Tyler Durden:
Like splicing single frames of porn into family films...

Tyler Durden:
Reject the basic assumptions of civilization, especially the importance of materiel possessions.

Lou:
I'm f***ing Lou. Who the f*** are you?

Tyler Durden:
You're too old, fat man. Your tits are too big.

Tyler Durden:
Get the f*** off my porch.

Narrator:
We have front row seats for this theatre of mass destruction. The demolitions committee of Project Mayhem wrapped the foundation columns of a dozen buildings with blasting gelatin. In two 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.

Narrator:
Tyler, I'm grateful to you; for everything that you've done for me. But this is too much. I don't want this.

Tyler Durden:
What do you want? Wanna go back to the sh*t job, f***in' condo world, watching sitcoms? F*** you, I won't do it.

Narrator:
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.

Tyler Durden:
Sh*t man, now it's all gone.

Narrator:
Clean food, please.

Waiter:
In that case, sir, may I advise against the lady eating clam chowder?

Narrator:
No clam chowder, thank you.

Marla Singer:
Listen. I tried Tyler. I really tried. There are things about you that I like, you're smart, you're funny, you're spectacular in bed. But you are intolerable. You have serious emotional problems, deep seated problems for which you should seek professional help.

Narrator:
By the end of the first month, I didn't miss TV.

Narrator:
If I didn't say anything, people always assumed the worst.

Narrator:
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.

Narrator:
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. It used to be that when I came home angry and depressed I'd just clean my condo, polish my Scandinavian furniture. I should have been looking for a new condo. I should have been haggling with my insurance company. I should have been upset about my nice, neat, flaming little sh*t. But I wasn't.

Narrator:
I'm gonna go inside and I'm gonna get a shovel.

Tyler Durden:
Just tell him you f***in' did it. Tell him you blew it all up. That's what he wants to hear.

Marla Singer:
I've been going to Debtor's Anonymous. You want to see some really f***ed-up people...

Narrator:
You're making a big mistake, fellas!

Narrator:
I'm not Tyler Durden!

Narrator:
All right then, I'm Tyler Durden. Listen to me, I'm giving you a direct order. We're aborting this mission right now.

Narrator:
Tyler was now involved in a class action lawsuit against the Pressman Hotel over the urine content of their soup.

Tyler Durden:
We're a generation of men raised by women. I'm wondering if another woman is really the answer we need.

Narrator:
Home was a condo on the fifteenth floor of a filing cabinet for widows and young professionals. The walls were solid concrete. A foot of concrete is important when your next-door neighbor lets their hearing aid go and have to watch game-shows at full volume. Or when a volcanic blast of 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.

Narrator:
You can swallow a pint of blood before you get sick.

Richard Chesler:
Get the f*** out of 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.

Narrator:
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.

Marla Singer:
I wish I could return the favor.

Narrator:
There's not a lot of breast cancer in the men in my family.

Marla Singer:
I could check your prostate.

Narrator:
When deep space exploration ramps up, it'll be the corporations that name everything, the IBM Stellar Sphere, the Microsoft Galaxy, Planet Starbucks.

Tyler Durden:
Well you did lose a lot of versatile solutions for modern living

Narrator:
Bob is dead, they shot him in the head!

Tyler Durden:
You wanna make an omelet, you gotta break some eggs.

Narrator:
It's called a changeover. The movie goes on, and nobody in the audience has any idea.

Tyler Durden:
Now why would you want to put a gun to your head?

Narrator:
Not my head, Tyler. Our head.

Tyler Durden:
We are all part of the same compost heap.

Tyler Durden:
Now, ancient people found their clothes got cleaner if they washed them at a certain spot in the river. You know why?

Narrator:
No.

Tyler Durden:
Human sacrifices were once made on the hills above this river. Bodies burnt, water speeded through the wood ashes to create lye.

Tyler Durden:
This is lye - the crucial ingredient. The lye combined with the melted fat of the bodies, till a thick white soapy discharge crept into the river. May I see your hand, please?

Narrator:
What is this?

Tyler Durden:
This...

Tyler Durden:
... is chemical burn.

Narrator:
Tyler's not here. Tyler went away. Tyler's gone.

Narrator:
F*** you! F*** Fight Club! F*** Marla! I am sick of all your sh*t!

Narrator:
You're f***ing Marla, Tyler.

Tyler Durden:
Uh, technically, you're f***ing Marla, but it's all the same to her.

Tyler Durden:
Something wrong, Dear?

Narrator:
This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.

How embarrassing. A house full of condiments and no food.

Narrator:
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 background, Tyler points to the corner of the screen as one such mark briefly appears.]

Tyler Durden:
In the industry, we call them cigarette burns.

Narrator:
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.

Tyler Durden:
And why would anyone want this sh*t job?

Narrator:
Because it affords him other interesting opportunities.

Tyler Durden:
Like splicing single frames of pornography into family films.

Narrator:
So when the snooty cat and the courageous dog with the celebrity voices meet for the first time in reel three, that's when you'll catch a flash of Tyler's contribution to the film.

[As the audience is watching the film, pornography flashes for a split second]

Narrator:
Nobody knows that they saw it, but they did.

Tyler Durden:
A nice, big cock.

[Several audience members look rattled, a little girl cries]

Narrator:
Even a hummingbird couldn't catch Tyler at work.

Narrator:
 When you buy furniture, you tell yourself, that’s it. That’s the last sofa I’ll need. Whatever else happens, 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. 

Tyler:
 Sh*t man, now it’s all gone.

Narrator:
 All… gone.

Tyler:
 All gone. Do you know what a duvet is?

Narrator:
 A comforter.

Tyler:
 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?

Narrator:
 I don’t know. Consumers.

Tyler Durden:
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.

Narrator:
Martha Stewart.

Tyler Durden:
F*** Martha Stewart. Martha's polishing the brass on the Titanic. It's all going down, man. So f*** off with your sofa units and strine green stripe patterns, I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let... lets evolve, let the chips fall where they may. But that's me, and I could be wrong. Maybe it’s a terrible tragedy.

[Tyler and Narrator stop outside a convenience store at night. Tyler takes out a gun and walks into the store to do their homework assignment of a "human sacrifice", while Narrator protests. Tyler forces the clerk out the back exit at gun point.]

Voice-over:
On a long enough timeline the survival rate for everybody drops to zero.

Narrator:
Stop! What are we doing? Come on! God!

Tyler Durden:
Hands behind your back. Give me your wallet.

[The clerk, now kneeling, hands him his wallet.]

Tyler Durden:
Raymond K. Hessel. 1320 South East spanning apartment A. Small cramped basement apartment, Raymond?

Raymond K. Hessel:
How did you know?

Tyler Durden:
'Cause they give shitty basement apartments letters instead of numbers. Raymond, you are going to die.

[Raymond begins to cry. Tyler examines content of the wallet.]

Tyler Durden:
Is that your mom and dad? Mom and Dad are going to have to call up kindly Doctor So-and-so. Pick up your dental records. Wanna know why? Because there's gonna be nothing left of your face.

Narrator:
Oh come on, come on.

Tyler Durden:
An expired community college student ID. What did you study, Raymond?

Raymond K. Hessel:
S-stuff.

Tyler Durden:
Stuff? Were the mid-terms hard? I asked you what you studied!

Raymond K. Hessel:
Biology mostly.

Tyler Durden:
Why?

Raymond K. Hessel:
I don't know.

Tyler Durden:
What did you wanna be, Raymond K. Hessel? The question, Raymond! Was "What did you want to be"?!

Narrator:
Answer him, Raymond! Jesus!

Raymond K. Hessel:
Veterinarian, veterinarian.

Tyler Durden:
Animals.

Raymond K. Hessel:
Yeah animals and stuff.

Tyler Durden:
And stuff, yeah I got that. That means you have to get more schooling.

Raymond K. Hessel:
Too much school.

Tyler Durden:
Would you rather be dead? Would you rather die? Here, on your knees in the back of a convenience store?

Raymond K. Hessel:
No, please no!

[Tyler takes his gun down, takes out Raymond's driver's license throwing the wallet in front of Raymond.]

Tyler Durden:
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.

[Raymond gets up and runs into the night.]

Tyler Durden:
Run Forrest, run!

Narrator:
I feel ill.

Tyler Durden:
Imagine how he feels.

Narrator:
Come on, this isn't funny! That wasn't funny. What the f*** was the point of that?!

Tyler Durden:
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.

Voice-over:
You had to give it to him. 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.

[Tyler throws gun to Narrator who opens the cylinder to find no bullets inside.]

Narrator:
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.

Tyler Durden:
Where'd you go psycho boy?

Narrator:
I felt like destroying something beautiful.

Narrator:
I know it seems like I have more than one side sometimes...

Marla Singer:
More than one side? You're Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jackass!

“We have no Great War, no Great Depression. Our Great War is a spiritual war, our Great Depression is our lives..”

-Tyler Durden

We are a generation of men raised by women. Do we really think another woman is the answer?

Reject the basis assumption of civilization, especially the importance of material possessions

- Tyler Durden

Tyler Durden:
[the Narrator is trying to disarm a car bomb of nitroglycerin] You don't know which wire to pull.

Narrator:
I know everything you do, so if you know I know.

Tyler Durden:
Or maybe, since I knew you'd know I spent all day thinking about the wrong wires.

The Narrator:
When the fight was over, nothing was solved, but nothing mattered. We all felt saved.

The Narrator:
Strangers with this kind of honesty make me go a big blubbery one.

The Narrator:
Tyler built himself an army. Why was Tyler Durden building an army? To what purpose? For what greater good? In Tyler we trusted.

The Narrator:
When you have a gun in your mouth, you can only speak in vowels.

The Narrator:
I want you to really listen to me. My eyes are open.

Tyler Durden:
Our fathers were our models for God, if our fathers bailed, what does that tell you about God?

Tyler Durden:
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 LA 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 f*** with us.

Tyler Durden:
You have to consider the possibility that God does not like you, never wanted you, in all probability he hates you. It's not the worst thing that could happen.

Tyler Durden:
If we are God's unwanted children, so be it!

Tyler Durden:
First you've gotta know - not fear, know - that someday you're gonna die.

Marla Singer:
[on the phone, after taking a bottle of sleeping pills] This isn't a real suicide-thing. This is probably one of those cry-for-help things... You're going to have to keep me up aaaall night.

Marla Singer:
It's a bridesmaid's dress. I got it at a second-hand store. It was loved intensely for one night.. then cast aside.

Suck a n*gger dick - Tyler

I dont want to - Jack

Tyler Durden:
Self-improvement is masturbation. Now, self-destruction...