Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- Yeah? -Yeah. Lot of fun.
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You just gotta listen to the greats, then.
Fletcher.
Dragging. Five, six, and...
- Answer! -Rushing.
Hey, don't worry about Greg. Kid's a dick.
Hey. I can cut you any fucking time I want.
Yeah.
- Is that from drumming? -Yeah. It's nothing.
It's been a while since I talked to you.
When did you become a fucking expert on what I can do...
...in a car accident.
You're rushing. Here we go.
You hear me, cocksuckers? Better start shitting me perfect 400s.
Let's go with the Irish Mick Paddy cracker now.
And he's laughed off-stage.
Okay.
- Count me a 215. -One, two, three, four.
Take the weekend. Think about it.
So I'm gonna give him a shot.
So are you upset? Yes or fucking no?
Whoever it is, this is your last chance.
Big-boy tempo.
So now you have it, right?
- Monday. Andrew. -All right.
Some parents got a kid from Sean Casey's year, I think...
Before I continue, would that player care to identify himself?
Don't worry about the numbers.
So I'm gonna give him a shot.
I told you about how Charlie Parker became Charlie Parker, right?
Nope, I guess not. Tanner?
I don't have a major yet.
Even when I do, I'm gonna be thinking about drumming.
Get the fuck out of my sight before I demolish you.
You are fucking kidding me.
Fucking piece of shit!
I'm not gonna have you guys be rude to each other because I will not tolerate bad behaviors.
I've been deeply indebted to her ever since.
If I ever find one of these lying around again...
- The tempo? -Were you rushing or dragging?
If I ever find one of these lying around again...
...which looks like everybody except Cal, tonight could change your life.
It's my part.
- Sir, no, you don't have to-- -Please get off me.
Last month, he hanged himself in his apartment.
Looks like that might be all night. Neiman.
...in a car accident.
Then why the fuck didn't you say so?
Har du husket å endre forventet inntekt?
No
...whose Mommy left Daddy when she figured out he wasn't Eugene O'Neill.
How do you know who wins in a music competition? Isn't it subjective?
Okay. Seven o'clock?
I found out I'm the youngest person in the band.
I'm sorry.
- Jo Jones threw a cymbal at his head. -Exactly.
See what I'm saying?
SAY IT SO THE WHOLE GUILD CAN HEAR YOU.
Drums, with me.
Tune the set to B-flat, then turn my pages.
They got me opening in a couple of weeks with a pro band.
...because I'm some girl who doesn't know what she wants.
Don't worry about what other guys are thinking.
And there it went.
Nice to meet you too.
He's here.
Not quite my tempo.
All right, gang, Whiplash.
You're here for a reason.
- Fletcher's got Connolly warming up. - God fucking da-- Okay.
I need the music. It's my memory, I need visual cues.
- Now is not the time, I swear to God. -I can play it, okay?
All right. Let's have fun.
- I can do... -No. We'll go with Connolly now.
- Get the fuck off me. -Get off me. Fuck off.
All Connolly ever was to me was incentive for you.
Fuck you!
And so for those reasons...
I see you in here a lot, and I think that you're really pretty and...
When I Wake.
- I'm in Studio Band because I'm the-- -Back off.
- Am I wrong? -Yeah.
...and sabotaging my band...
The talent at this table, that is stunning.
...which looks like everybody except Cal, tonight could change your life.
Maybe I'm literally the only one, I don't know.
Well, that's okay, Charlie. That was all right. Good job.
Excuse me. Could I get a B-flat?
Were you edging or were you gooning?
Although why anybody would have anything...
You think you're better than us?
All right, gang, Whiplash.
I gave Neiman the folder and Neiman lost it.
People wonder why jazz is dying.
I just thought you should know.
...an EMC client, a Lincoln Center core.
What's he written?
_ Okay- _Ql
You understand what I'm saying?
Fuck you.
- Tanner? -Tanner switched to premed.
- You're joking. You're fucking around? _No__