We must rise and attack the day, my friend.
The world wants our art.
You're the dumbest person of all time.
What? We sold every painting.
And now I have to come up with new paintings.
Uh, Earth to tortured artist.
It's your muse talking,
ready to inspire.
But not ready to cook me breakfast, apparently.
I have access to Fig Newtons.
Fig Newtons are good.
I forget that sometimes.
Well, you have a lot on your mind.
Eh, not really. But let's work.
Sorry, I just need a sec.
Hold that pose, though. It's perfect.
[ Engine starts ]
Klaus: What the hell? [ Tires screeching ]
[ Cellphone chimes ]
Had to run out and get some more Newtons.
BRB. Do not move.
Ugh! The life of a muse.
This is [bleep] ridiculous.
What do you think of this dance?
Ba-da. Ba-da-da-da-ba.
Kick the salad. Roger!
Both: What the hell are you doing here?!
What am I doing here?
You kept me in that damn chair for six hours!
Paramours, take five while I deal with this guy.
"This guy"?
I'm your muse! Your inspiration!
And what do you do?
You abuse me, treat me like a dog.
We were supposed to work, damn it!
Is this what you want, Klaus?!
[ Grunting ]
Is this what you want?!
It is what I want.
That's why I just gave you all the money.
Stop yelling at me.
Uh, sorry! That's my fault.
I made him mad back at the bistro.
Forget about the bistro.
Let's take a beach stroll, maybe have a beefstro.
That's what I call beef stroganoff.
Seagull. Majestic birds.
Not the most majestic, though, Klaus.
I-I wasn't suggesting --
It's fine. It's fine. Just -- Just be careful.
Eat your stroge.
[ Seagulls crying ]
You changed my life, Roger.
And you, mine, Klaus.
Your brutal takedown was the nudge I needed
to finally put myself out there.
Your paintings -- they move people.
Our paintings.
Thank you.
I'm finally a part of something meaningful.
You saw the real me.
That I did do.
I guess I feel a little less lonely
on this big orb they call Earth.
Who calls it that?
E-Everyone?
Huh. I call it Gaia.
But I'm a special person. An artist.
I-I was hoping we could also talk process.
I was thinking maybe there's a way for me
to feel less like shit at the end of every day.
There is, and that's actually why I brought you out here --
to tell you you're fired.
You're fired. What?
Why? Let's go alphabetically.
"A" is for albatross.
You're an albatross around my neck.
"B" is for bore. You bore me.
That's an easy one.
"P" for puke-inducing,
"Q" for quick-to-make-me-barf, "R" for rascal.
Well, that's -- that's the one thing I do like about you.
You're kind of a rascal.
You fired Klaus?!
Yeah, but not for reals.
Just to break his heart.
It's all part of my process.
Your process?
Yeah, I torture Klaus, crush his spirit,
and then paint his sad face.
Rinse, repeat.
How long have you been doing this?
Oh, gosh. Years?
Probably since day one, yeah.
You've been...torturing me?
Ruining my life for paintings?!
And sculpture and mixed media.
Stop motion's on the horizon.
Perhaps a line of puppets?
Why would you do this?
For my art, dummy!
It comes only from pain -- your pain.
I can't take this anymore. [ Sobs ]
I hope I never see you again!
[ Sobbing ]
Wait, Klaus!
[ Sniffling ] Yes?
[ Camera shutter clicks ] Wow.
That's gonna make an amazing puppet.
[ Sobbing ]