Bullshit!
No.
Since when?
Since 15 years ago.
Bullshit.
No, it's not.
Where's your ring?
Ha! I know a Cracker Jack prize
when I see one. Where is he, then?
He is in LA with a client right now.
Okay, well, where's your wedding-type snapshots
and, you know, pretty photos of you and this husband?
We host a lot of parties here,
and Grady thinks that personal artifacts are tacky, so that's why...
- G... Grady? - Yes.
His name is Grady? Come on.
Yes... Yes, Stensland, his name is Grady.
Bullshit! Ha! Nice try.
Jesus, I can't believe you, Morgan.
Where... Where are you going?
To expose the lack of man clothing in your closet
and prove that you're bullshitting.
What the fuck!
I'm married!
Tell me you don't have kids. Were they watching us?
No. I don't... Why would I have my kids watching...
I don't have any kids.
You don't have kids because he's a violent drunk.
- No, we just... - He'd beat them.
Each other is all we've ever really wanted or needed,
so we don't have kids.
"Was." So, you'll be separated soon, right?
No.
Then what the fuck is this?
You held my hand in the cab yesterday!
That isn't the action of a woman just looking for great sex
behind her hubby's back, that's a woman looking for Doctor Zhivago!
This...
He cheated on me, okay?
He cheated on you?
And I held your hand yesterday because I like you, Stensland.
- Aw. - You know, I'm still... I'm still crushable.
"Crushable"?
You can't even say the word "love," can you?
You know, you can... You can free the penis now.
I mean, I've seen you naked for the past two days.
You've been seeing me naked under sheets and in limited light.
I've got very wide hips that make my unit
look a lot smaller than it actually is.
So it's like an optical illusion?
Yes! I've got bitch hips. Leave it be.
Okay, listen. This was so much fun.
And so, thank you.
But this is the last time that we will be seeing each other, okay?
Good. I was testing you.
Oh, phew!
What a load off my mind.
Oh, you know, my biggest fear,
since we started hookin' up, baby,
was that you would think this was something more than fucking,
like, God forbid, love.
- Love, love, love. - Listen, I...
I didn't want to hurt you. I'm really sorry.
You're sorry?
As for these...
Something tells me they're due for a dry cleaning.
Oh... What are you doing?
What is wrong with you?
Good day, madam.
Oh. Oh, that was real mature.
What?
"Crushable"?
How dare she?
All right, the usual.
One pink scone, one strawberry milk.
So $4.53.
You, uh... You doing all right, Stensland?
Could someone let me borrow 53 cents?
Sweet Christ, not now.
Woman, I don't know what you're saying!
No, not a single decipherable word!
It's the same puzzling dance every day!
Shut up!
You're not the smartest, you're not the coolest,
you're not the best-looking,
but God damn it, you are something.
You've got something that attracts people.
You've got something that attracts the ladies.
They don't know what it is, you don't know what it is,
but it's there, cocooned, growing and learning.
And one day, you'll bloom into a big, beautiful condor
that people will respect and fear.
"I can't believe that used to be Stensland," they'll say.
"I can't believe that used to be Stensland."
Hello, old friend.
Go ahead.
Oh, great episode.
Stensland? Oh, you are here.
Hey.
Nah, I'm... I'm good.
I thought you said you were going to stop smoking during the day?
Oh, look, my dead mom's back. Great.
My God, what's the matter with you?
Morgan dumped me, okay?
She's married.
Is that the older lady you met at the furniture store?
Don't make her sound like Jessica Tandy. She's in her July.
Whatever, man. At least you got sex without strings.
I want strings.
I want commitment and mutual adoration.
I want to pass the bong to someone with boobs.
I want the danger of forgetting anniversaries
and the pain of holding in farts
because someone is sharing my bed.
- I want a girlfriend, Lyle. - I know, I know.
I'm sorry to change the subject,
but you noticed the cardboard boxes, right?
Did you drink and eBay?
No, I started moving over to Linda's.
Already?
You need to find another roommate, man.
Is this mine?
I like you.
I like you, too, buddy, just not as much as Linda. I love her.
All right, well, I'm out of here
a week from tomorrow, next Monday.
So find another roommate, Stens.
God damn it.
...life imitating art imitating life?
...and maybe, you know, it's not part of the plan.
Then again, I never thought that
losing you was part of the plan, either.
Oh...
I think sometimes you have to lose somebody completely
before you can figure out what they really mean to you.
Oh, D-dog, laying down the truth.
Hi, it's me...
Oh, Jesus!
Morgan, would you please call me back?
I worry I'm beginning to look desperate.
Phew! It smells bad in here.
What are you doing?
Oh...
I'm, uh, relaxing.
What about work?
Oh, I'm on leave.
You're not in the Navy.
You work six-hour shifts at an antique shop.
- Why do you need a leave? - My breakup!
For Christ's sake, man. Was the sex that good?
Good? It was transcendent, Lyle.
My spiritual self is still making an O-face.
But I'm not mourning the sex.
I'm mourning what we might have been.
That tiny taste of affection has made it very evident to me
that something's missing from my life.
Okay. I'm just surprised the store gave you this much time off.
Well...
This is more like one of those self-allotted time-out leaves, you know?
What? Go to work!
Stensland! I'm going to be totally moved out tomorrow.
You said I had till Monday.
Tomorrow is Monday, man.
- Tomorrow's Monday? - Tomorrow's Monday. Come on.
Shit. This chiba is unforgiving.
Ah, Mr. Laframboise.
I was just mulling a froYo break. You want one?
This is the last check.
You don't showing up one week, no call, no nothing!
Wait a minute, are we doing a scene from The Pawnbroker?
Mr. Laframboise, are you back in acting class? That's great.
- Get out! - Oh, okay, all right.
You're a passionate bear, you're upset, I get it.
I need to work on my communication skills, that's clear.
But I'm pretty sure I was already due a vacation week,
so can we just sit back, relax,
I'll put on some jasmine tea, chill out...
- Sir? - What?
I think this varnish may have turned,
and I would hate to compromise the honesty of that Victorian end table.
Sorry, am I interrupting?
Who the fuck is this?
New Stensland.
There's no other Stensland. How could you say that?
Um, my name is Pierce.
Mr. Laframboise, your assumption that my absence
is barren of a logical explanation offends me.
- We're closer than this. - No, we're not.
Okay, look, here's what happened.
I was sideswiped by a nasty cyclone known as "woman."
Lost aimlessly in her deceit, and it stung like a biatch.
So, please, just give me another chance.
Fuck you!
Morgan!
Hey! Hey, asshole! Come back here!
- Morgan! - You can't go in there.
Morgan!
Stensland.
She remembers my name. Shocker.
I'm calling security.
No, no. No, it's okay. No, it's okay. We're okay.
You know this guy?
Yeah, no, no. I'll handle it. It's okay.
Moneypenny, could you order us up some sandwiches and lemonade?
This'll take a while.
- No, it won't. - Yes, it will.
Thank you, Hannah. Thanks, honey. I got this.
Yeah, no, no, this is, um... Stensland.
It's not a thing at all. It's just a, um...
- Okay. - Thanks, honey.
- What do you want? - "What do you want?"
We made love a week ago.
I'm no dildo you wipe off and put back in the drawer.
Why haven't you called me back?
Because that was it.
It was a one-time thing.
I don't care if you're married, Morgan.
- I still love you. You love me, it's just... - What?
What does that even mean?
It means let's keep on keepin' on.
Let's ride this naughty little secret.
No.
Why? Isn't he cheating on you, too?
I don't know.
Oh...
Now you don't know!
Is that him?
Yes.
He has a moustache?
Yes.
I want $15,000, or I'm gonna tell him.
Mmm?
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, you're... You're gonna have to repeat that.
What?
I demand you pay me $15,000,
or I'm gonna find Grady and tell him everything.
What the hell are you doing, Stens?
"Stens," she says! Using the abridged pet name to disarm me.
- You're scared. - Really?
Grady's a criminal defense lawyer.
I doubt he will believe that I slept with you.
Okay?
Oh, he'll believe me, all right.
Why? Did you record us or something?
No, but I have evidence of passion.
Remember this?
"Kiss me between my shoulder blades, Stensland."
And remember this?
"Rub my ass like this when you're going down on me, Stensland."
And what about this?
Will this be evidence enough
when I explain to Grady in graphic, carnal detail
that shaky little twitch dance you do when you come?
How does the chirp go?
You don't get it, do you?
What?
I already told him.
Bullshit.
No, I did.
You see, I was...
I was looking for someone to have an affair with,
so I could throw it in his face
to show him that I'm not just gonna sit here and smile
while he tunes out our marriage
and does God knows what he's doing out there.
Mm-hmm, and, uh, what did he say?
He said a lot of stuff that's none of your business.
But we're gonna work it out.
- You're going to work it out? - Yeah.
Kid, I hate to crush your spirit here,
but you're forcing me to.
You're my pawn.
You're like my little revenge marionette.
You haven't told him diddly squat, have you?
Stensland holds all the cards.
15 grand, sweetheart,
or me and Grady are going to sit down and talk turkey.
Good day, madam.
Oh, look!
Uh-oh. The little pitcher has big ears. Yenta, yenta.
Who the fuck is that?
- Hey. - Are you all right?
Yeah, no, I'm good. Um...
How much of that did you hear?
None of it.
Oh, okay.
A little.
Okay, I heard everything.
You slept with that guy?
Oh, Hannah, I was in the store, and I was depressed,
and I was thinking about, like, "Who the hell is Grady?"
and, "Why the hell am I in the store?"
And then this kid comes up
and starts flirting with me like I'm Princess Grace or something.
Now I have a stalker.
It's like, of course I sleep with the one guy on the planet
who's pissed off that his one-night stand isn't just a one-night stand.
Don't sweat it, okay?
You already told Grady, so...
- No. - You haven't told Grady?
Yeah, you're screwed.
Balls of wonder, balls of might...
Law offices of Dott and Rosen.
Grady Dott, please.
I'm sorry, he's out of the office. Would you like his voicemail?
No, no, no, patch me through to his personal cell.
This is an emergency.
- Your name? - Stensland.
- Please hold. - Mmm-hmm.
Mr. Stensland, what's this concerning?
Uh, I fucked his wife many times?
- Please hold. - Uh-huh.
Yeah, no baloney. Come on.
This is Grady Dott.
Mr. Dott, my name is Stensland.
I'm a 29-year-old, unemployed diamond in the rough
with no foreseeable opportunities for financial
or personal success until my death.
It's my sad duty to inform you that I met your wife, Morgan, last week
in Soft Solutions Fine Furnishings,
whereupon she took me back to your home and made love to me.
At no point over the weekend did she inform me
that she was maritally or otherwise spoken for...
- Stensland? - Yeah?
She told me.
Oh.
Now I'm going to find you, and I'm going to kill you.
You need to find yourself a girl your own age.
One who hasn't already been fucked up by some other asshole,
so you can fuck her up your own damn self, your own damn way.
Ella, Internet dating has turned you cold.
She's right. This Morgan's a mess.
Stay sane, stay away.
- Spend that love on a woman who wants it. - Amen.
That's right.
Hit me with it straight, Denise.
Coast is clear. No one's outside your apartment, doll.
Typical. That chump ain't gonna fight for her.
Ladies, let's get shit-faced.
You've fucked your last wife, Stensland.
Stensland?
No, no, no. Sir, my name isn't Stensland.
My name is Grady.
Wrong.
Oh, God!
Don't! God...
Oh, God...
Hey, guy, the gun was just to fuck with you.
So you're not gonna kill me?
No. My receptionist was listening in when I threatened you,
which means I'd have to kill her as well.
And there's no way I'm breaking in a new receptionist.
No, sir.
I am, however, going to kick the ever-loving shit out of you.
No, please...
Please don't kick the ever-loving shit out of me.
What are you doing?
I just... I bruise so easily.
Come on.
Huh...
- Just don't... - You've urinated in your shorts.
Yes! You pointed a gun at my face, and I already had to go.
Jesus, Morgan!
This is bullshit.
She really knows how to pick 'em.
She picked you to cheat with?
Yes. Are you still kicking the shit out of me?
Yes, so just sit there and shut up.
Jesus Christ, your apartment looks like
the cargo hold of a pirate ship.
Thank you.
It's not a compliment, dumbass.
This is literally a shit hole.
It stinks.
What is that, beef chow mein from last week?
And your bong water spilled everywhere?
And now it smells like your cowardly urine.
It smells like man.
Don't call yourself that in front of me.
Huh.
I'll be damned.
I didn't realize they still made those.
"Shanty. Irish Mulligan Stew."
Hey, don't rag it.
That is a hearty bouillon at an affordable price.
I know what it is.
It's all I ate when I was poor and pathetic like you.
Well, the tradition continues.
What happened in your shorts?
It's a twosie.
Mmm, mmm.
Mmm, that was good.
Okay, so level with me.
Did Morgan pay you to tell me you had sex?
No. And I didn't know she was married either.
Yeah.
Hey, why did you cheat on her?
I didn't cheat on her. God...
She picked up a scent of perfume on one of my shirts,
so that got her to thinking,
and you know what happens when vexed women start thinking.
Civilizations fall, son.
You can bank on that.
So after a couple of business trips ran long,
the logical conclusion to her irrational female intellect
was that I was in fact cheating.
Typical women.
A brother can't even be late and tired.
That's for sure.
Oh, we give them our hearts,
our penises, and still they do not trust us.
That was a good one.
The old shower vomit.
Yeah, I miss those days.
Yeah, I mean, after 15 years of marriage,
it's not so hot anymore.
Do I get the urge to mess around with other women?
Of course I do.
You can't control what goes through this mastermind.
No.
That'd go against the very nature of man, the very essence of evolution.
When I get the desire to bang some strange,
I just go find a quiet place, rub one out.
Hence, desire quenched.
Hey, you don't have to tell me about quenches.
I desire my quench all the fuckin' time.
But you don't hate me?
No, I don't hate you.
Morgan's a beautiful woman.
What are you gonna do?
Ah, don't worry about me.
Just get some rest.
What the...
Ah, there's the ol' lush, sleeping in.
Oh, I hope you don't mind, I took a couple of hits off the bong.
I hadn't gotten high since The Stones' "Bridges To Babylon" Tour.
- Yeah. - How do you like your eggs?
Um...
Scrambled?
Scrambled it is.
Four out of five American men prefer scrambled.
Over there in Europe, they're all about the poach.
Those guys are such pussies.
Bacon?
Uh, sure.
I had bacon? And eggs?
No. I went out and picked up a few things.
Yeah, including some luggage.
No, that was in the car.
So, you left her.
Temporarily. She'll feel more guilt that way.
Ooh! Ah...
There she is. "Decline."
Oh, you know what? I saw this article on the refrigerator.
Piqued my curiosity. "Men's Life Crisis at Age 25."
Yeah, that's what's wrong with me.
There is now a life crisis before the mid-life crisis
that experts are calling the "early-life crisis."
Oh, that's clever.
Yeah. I've been stuck in one of those.
Yeah? For how long?
Just over eight years.
Close to a decade.
I'm suffering from over-ambitious aspirations for myself,
so I worry about getting a better job,
I desire a nicer place to live,
and swankier clothes to wear, and hotter girls.
And I want to attain all of this while I'm eradicating my debt.
It's ridiculous.
"Should adopt more realistic ambitions
"to feel happier and less stress."
That's easy for them to say.
They have an awesome job at a magazine.
Dickheads.
I'm moving in here for a while.
- What? - Yeah.
Morgan's faithlessness has emboldened me
to take a vacation from her,
from our marriage, from my career.
Yeah. I want to spend it here.
You said it looked like a pirate ship and smelled of beef noodles.
And you said it smelled of man, and you were right.
I... I was?
Yes. What the fuck am I going to do?
I'm going to lay around a swanky hotel
swimming pool in a fluffy robe with a slice of cucumber in my water?
Order caviar-topped potatoes?
Get massages?
I started making a little bit of money as a lawyer
and turned into George Hamilton.
I don't know who that is.
Morgan is largely responsible for me becoming fancy.
The flat screen had to be moved out of the bathroom.
Can't eat any food anywhere near the Italian bed linens.
She's even got me wearing pink Polo shirts on the weekend.
Pink is sometimes nice.
Yeah, it's nice on birthday cakes.
But it doesn't belong on a rough-riding son of a bitch like me.
Or you!
This whole man-shed experience has brought me back to a blissful time
when I was emotionally unformed
and completely devoid of a woman's redecorating tips.
All I did in those days was follow my pecker around.
I didn't give a fuck about anybody or anything.
Here. What I need is here.
I can do anything.
I can freeball on this ugly couch.
Don't say that.
I can eat chili fries in that filthy shower.
I can binge-drink without judgment anytime I want.
I appreciate you making my man-shed sound poetic,
but why don't you just get your own private flop?
Why do you need to share with me?
That's the genius part.
This is the ice cream on top of the pie, on top of the candy bar.
You don't see it, do you?
I don't.
Morgan's fucked us both over, correct?
Very correct.
Do you know how batshit crazy she is gonna go
when she finds out that we're living together?
Ooh.
I'm going to pay the rent.
I'm gonna pay for utilities,
groceries, weed, booze, whatever.
I'm going to pay for everything.
Rent's due on the first.
And the first variation is to lean to one skate.
This is a really good stretch for your side.
Okay, go ahead and come up, square your shoulders.
Try to reach for your other skate.
Shit, that's a cop knock.
No, that's a Muumuu knock.
Wait, this could be the weed talking,
but there's a cow at the door?
No, it's our indecipherable landlord who only wears guess what?
Sorry about the noise last night.
She sounds sexy.
Yeah, she's got charm for days.
Lyle, my old roommate,
he thinks she runs guns out of the laundry room.
- What are your plans for the rest of the day? - Hmm...
These leg lunges supersede any plans I had for the rest of my life.
Lean into it.
Don't forget to breathe.
You know where I've always wanted to have lunch?
How's it going with that hangover?
I think it's getting worse.
Well, damn it, boy, hit it with another Engineer Beer.
Or some of that Choo-Choo Chicken.
Look at this.
We had breakfast, like, an hour ago.
Slow down. You're going to give yourself a heart attack.
Get used to my gluttony.
I tend to eat a lot on vacation.
Did... That... Did... What the fuck?
That guy just took the last of the Piggyback Potatoes!
Shh.
Shit.
That's why I'm here.
Oh, I am gonna have an excellent bowel movement tomorrow.
Guaranteed.
So, what are your new aspirations
now that the antiquities industry has shit-canned you?
Okay, um...
To own my own company that makes me a lot of money.
What that company does, I'm not really sure yet.
I'd like a vintage Cadillac with original leather interior.
House on the water. Winter home in the Virgin Islands.
I'd like a wife, hot, preferably Asian...
- I'm gonna stop you there. - Yeah?
I'm gonna recommend that you adopt more realistic ambitions
because it sounds like you're a bit of an unrealistic dreamer.
Guilty.
I'm Pisces, so I view the world
through rose-tinted spectacles.
Oh, that stung all the way to my brain stem.
You gotta be kidding me.
If you want to pick up a girl,
you gotta infuse your vocab with a little bit more testosterone.
Words like "tits" and "big tits."
Listen, Cadillacs and beach houses,
those are the dreams of stupid, naive people.
That's not you, right?
Grady?
Yeah.
They put out more Piggyback Potatoes.
What?
When?
I find it a little strange, actually,
that you blame "extreme muff deficiency"
as the root of my problems,
when the last muff I was in belonged to your wife.
- Thank you. - Thanks.
Let me ask you a question.
If a fat guy diets, exercises,
takes vitamins two weeks out of the year,
does that necessarily make him a healthy person?
I get your point.
So how come you're not out there closing some ass?
How? Where? I hate going out. I hate going to bars.
The music's always so loud.
I can barely hear myself speak,
let alone the lady I'm trying to connect with.
So it becomes this choreographed routine
of two people just leaning into each other all night, saying, "What?
"What? What? What?"
Well, that's your problem.
Bars are not made for talking.
That's why the music is so loud.
You only need to be concerned about two questions,
"What are you drinking?" and, "Where are we humping?"
Could you see that on a T-shirt? I just made that up.
Unfortunately, yes, I can see that on a T-shirt.
Are you okay to drive?
No. Definitely not. Get in.
What if you woke up and you were 15 again?
The funny thing is, I don't feel that way anymore.
Oh... That was a delightful bubble bath.
Whose Mr. Bubble is this?
Who else lives here apart from you?
I thought it might've been your old roommate's.
No, when people move out, they bring their Mr. Bubble.
That's how it works.
Oh, well, you're out of Mr. Bubble.
What?
Jesus Christ, that was a new bottle.
You're only supposed to use a capful. A capful!
It really smelled good, so I just kept pouring it in.
What are you watching?
Ah. It's Dawson's Creek.
Is this VHS?
Yup. I have every episode recorded on their original air date.
I got them on eBay from this woman in Delaware.
She sent them in this awesome casket she made, too. Look.
Seriously, what is this show about?
It's about an ambitious young man
named Dawson Leery and his friends
as they learn all about love and life in Capeside, Massachusetts.
Romantic entanglements and growing pains are aplenty.
You are going to love it.
That sounds like the worst fucking TV show I've ever heard of.
- No. - Yeah.
We're not watching this.
Come on, find a sporting event or something with car crashes.
Do you bite off Morgan's head like this
every time she wants to watch her favorite programming?
We don't watch television together.
- Never? - No.
I always thought the best part of marriage
would be settling in every night
to watch television with your life partner.
You know, making fun of the weatherman's hair,
shouting out answers during Family Feud.
Not even Top Chef?
No, not even Top Chef, whatever the fuck that is.
We have jobs, and we work most nights.
That's sad.
What would you know about it, Stensland?
Get me the Doritos and a tumbler of Scotch.
Come on, come on, come on.
We don't have tumblers.
I'll put it in a jelly jar.
You don't have jelly jars either.
I threw them all out this morning.
God damn it.
Hey, that's a Muumuu knock. You want me to grab that, roomie?
No, I'll get it.
Sorry, we'll keep the fucking noise...
Good, you're alive.
What are you...
Grady said he was coming over here to kill you last night, so...
You were worried about me.
No, I was worried about instigating a murder.
Good night.
Hey, Stens! I'm very high, and I cannot feel my feet.
- Grady! - Oh, shit!
Whoa, what are you doing here, man?
Um, you said you were going to come here and kill him last night.
She was worried about me.
I was not worried about you, okay?
What are you doing here?
I thought you checked into the Sorrento last night.
Nope. Nope, I live here now, woman.
What?
That's a joke, right?
No.
Stensland and I have bonded over the mutual hatred of you.
Oh, well, "Hatred" is a strong word.
See, unlike you and your sisterhood
of catty, hair-pulling harpies,
men can move past their mistakes and form a fellowship.
A creed, if you will. That's why we run the world.
Oh, and what an honorable job you frat dickheads are doing, thank you.
Morgan, I don't hate you, per se.
- I'm just very upset... - Wait a second. Wait a second.
You said she lied to you and broke your heart,
and you're going to stand over there
and kiss her ass like you owe her something.
- Shut up. - Grow some balls, Stensland.
Stop it, Grady!
- Fucking do it! - Fine!
Morgan, I'm really fucking pissed at you!
You're very pretty, but you're a liar!
Get a load of this, sister.
Me and this fella right here, we're taking a long Morgan vacation,
and if you don't like that, then you can just head out
and find yourself another boy toy!
Yeah. High-five that shit.
Oh, this is so twisted, even for you.
- Is it? - Okay, you know what?
Just so you know, it's not lost on me
how insulting this must be for you
that I cheated on you with this child over here.
Don't mind me, Morgan, I'm just standing right here.
- Will you just shut up? - All right.
- Please? Just shut... - Sorry. Yeah.
- I'll stop talking right now. - You talk too much.
- Okay. - Stop.
What was my next move supposed to be, Grady?
I told you that we were losing touch,
that I needed more from you, and you ignored me.
You blew off therapy, you drifted further away from me.
I mean, what is someone supposed to do when they're wandering around
in the emotional equivalent of the Atacama Desert, huh?
Or starving for affection like some Brazilian street orphan?
Is this BBC World News?
Oh, Jesus, fuck you. Just fuck you.
This is our marriage, Grady.
We need to sit down, and we need to talk, okay?
But I am not doing it here.
So please go get your stuff, and let's go.
No.
Sorry.
I'm going to stay here with Stensland
and watch an episode of Darren's Stream.
That'd be Dawson's Creek.
You do that.
Jesus. What's with her cheap shots?
Aw, forget it.
You told her off like a man. Didn't that feel good?
No, it exhausted me.
I'm going to go to bed for a few days.
What are you talking about? It's not even 10:00.
I mean, the pubs are crawling with young bug.
We've got to get out there, we've got to get some.
I've got to cash in a "bang some strange" card.
- No. - Yes.
- No. - Oh, yes. Come on.
Stensland says no!
Two double Black Labels on the rocks, please.
- You got it. - Thank you.
First prospect on the board.
Bartenders flirt for tips, they can't be prospects.
Oh, come on.
Dogs beg for Milk-Bones, but they still wanna hump your leg.
Now then, in scouting for a prospect,
you've got to take in the whole field.
You know what a baseball scout is, right?
I'm Irish, not Amish.
Good. That's good. I knew you'd be good at this.
- There you go, boys. - Thank you.
- Keep that tab wide open. - Giddyup.
See?
Tonight we're muff scouts.
I know, it lacks wit, but it's real.
So, when we're scouting quail, what are we looking for?
Body, face, what else?
Intelligence, sense of self, fashion.
No! That's the pink part of your brain
that allows you to enjoy Dawson's Creek.
The end game is to get 'em nude,
sans fashion, so it's never a factor.
But what is a factor is personality.
And it's as easy to spot as a panty line.
Are they laughing? Are they smiling?
Are they giving off any indication
that they're having a good time,
or that they're eager to have a good time with you?
Many of them are going to be wearing this precious little smile
that says, "Hey, please, please come talk to me."
I know that little smile.
Of course you do, you fuckin' animal.
That's why they're drinking here
and not at home alone with their kitty cats.
Now then, survey the showroom,
pick out a model, take her for a sex drive.
And for the sake of Christ,
keep drinking the rocket sauce.
- Hey! - Hey.
What kind of drink is that?
It's a Harlem Mugger.
What?
A Harlem Mugger!
Oh! What's in it? Racism?
No, no, it's got vodka, gin, white rum, tequila, champagne,
and a little cranberry juice.
Always gets me shitfaced.
Oh, my God.
What's a lovely girl like you doing
with a horrible drink like that?
Are you a bootlegger?
No, no.
I ordered it because it smells just like this anti-fungal shampoo
I used to wash my pony with.
Oh, is that right?
Yeah, Gingerbelle.
I couldn't decide between the names Gingerbread and Clarabelle,
so I combined them. Gingerbelle!
- That's interesting. - I loved her so much.
Aw, Gingerbelle had this fungal skin infection called "rain rot"
and on warm nights, I used to snuggle up with her in the barn,
and then the bacteria from her infection spread onto me.
I still can't grow hair
in my left armpit or half my pubic region, but...
Bye.
Bye!
So the guy goes, "Hey, who put the baby in the dryer?"
Excuse me, miss?
Oh, man. Be right back.
What are you doing here?
Ugh, it's not gonna happen.
I got talking to a girl, but she was into animals.
Really?
Not like that.
Before I even got her name,
she tells me about this pony she caught a bacterial infection from.
Yeah, that's rain rot.
How do you know that?
I was in 4-H when I was a kid.
Look, it's nothing. It just makes you shed.
It's no big deal.
Go back out there and just casually bring up your penis.
This is pathetic.
You do realize there's not a lady here
who can hold a candle to your wife, right?
Stensland! Don't bring her up again.
Get away from me.
- Everything okay here? - Yeah.
Can I get another double, please?
Oh. And a shot of tequila.
The shittiest, cheapest tequila that you have.
Hi.
Can you get the fuck up and off my $700 jacket?
Oh.
I'm sorry.
- Just give it! - Sorry.
Just watch where the fuck you sit next time, dick face.
"Dick face"? Jesus Christ.
Why don't you tell your whore to watch where she drops her shit?
Oh.
No, I didn't say that, he said that.
- No. No, I didn't. - What?
Listen, drink this, 'cause you're gonna need it in about five minutes.
Who'd you call a whore, motherfucker?
I believe he's referring to her,
and, uh, he also bet me a fish taco
that he'd have her blowing him
- in the men's room by last call. - What the fuck are you doing?
That is confidence.
- Oh, fuck! Okay. - Outside, right now.
- Bitch. - "Bitch"?
- Bitch. - "Bitch"? Jesus.
Don't ever bring up a man's wife
when you're on bush patrol with him, okay?
You couldn't deal with a pony snuggler,
and you dragged me down with you,
and that has consequences.
Consequences that apparently mean my death, asshole!
- Thanks a bunch! - You're welcome.
God damn it!
Let's do this, pussy!
I can't believe you did this. He's gonna put me in the hospital.
You know what, you pissed me off,
but now I feel a little shitty about it
because that fucking guy's huge.
He's a giant.
Do you know what? Aside from all that, you need this, Stensland.
- Oh, I need this? - Yes.
Violence is good for a guy.
It'll cure you of the desire to watch Dawson's Creek every day. Right?
Hey, it's an award-winner! Best Drama,
Teen Choice Awards! Twice!
Use that anger.
You've been bullied your whole life, Stensland.
Do something about it.
Put every prick's face that you ever dealt with on that prick's face.
- You just shut up and leave me alone. - Good.
Let do this, punk!
- Fuck! - Nice shot.
All right. Proceed.
This will all end very soon.
Come on, Stens.
Hey, freshman dork. Look at those bitch hips!
Make good handles for your boyfriend, huh?
Oh!
Keep 'em up. Get 'em up.
You either get giddy about the antique furniture,
or get giddy in the unemployment line.
Come on, Stensy.
You're a child, Stensland.
A mistake.
I could never be your girlfriend.
- Keep fighting! - I did it!
Stensy?
Stensland!
Mmm...
Hello, dolly.
Why do I have Wilford Brimley's mustache?
Stensland, you punched me in the face.
You felt that? I thought it was only pretend.
Whoa.
What's your assistant doing in the Swiss Alps?
Care for a schmoke, Stensland?
Man, she's wearing the shit out of those Hosen.
Come, Stensland. Ja, is good.
Schmoke-ity, schmoke-ity, schmoke-ity.
- Hmm. - Ja, is good.
I wanted a schmoke.
Grady, you piece of shit.
And for some reason, she had two goats.
You're drooling jam.
Okay. Okay.
So, we lived together for three years,
and by far the most scandalous thing I ever saw you do was
roll the dice on some expired pudding cups
you found in the back of the fridge.
- A gamble I lost, if you remember. - I do.
Yet, in the 48 hours since I moved out,
you blackmailed your mistress,
you had a gun stuck in your face,
you let your mistress's husband move in,
and you fist-fought a man twice your size in an alley?
Yes.
Why didn't you unleash any of this radness when I was there?
None of this is radness, Lyle.
I need this guy out of my place.
No, it's all radness, man. Adventure is erupting all around you.
- And I'm hating it. - No. No, you don't realize you're loving it.
Soldiers go to war, and they hate it,
yet it's all they talk about when they get back.
I'm a prematurely old man who wants
nothing more than a comfortable place to sit
and a diet root beer to enjoy the silence with.
I can't deal with all this.
You remember Final Destination and its subsequent sequels?
The teenagers cheated Death,
and then Death came after them to finish the job?
- Great movie. - Yeah.
I think you cheated Youth in your 20s
by denying yourself sex, and reckless behavior, and Fun in general.
Now Fun's come back to claim your soul,
and it's come in the form of a middle-aged pervert.
What if I outwit Fun?
Perform the old switcheroo to defend my geriatric way of life.
No, no, you can't outwit Fun, man.
Especially when you're broke, and Fun's paying the rent.
- Thank you. - You're welcome.
Shit!
Hannah!
What are you doing down there? Did you find a penny?
No. I'm hiding from an annoying asshole.
Oh.
Listen, I just want to apologize for the other day.
I had my panties in a pretty tight bunch.
I brought another apology in the form of a warm scone.
A scone?
Yeah, it's from the German term "Schonbrot."
Speaking of the old country,
do you happen to have any Germanic breeding
or own a pair of exotic Lederhosen, by chance?
Nice eye shadow.
Oh, yeah, this is just a shiner
from a drunken duke-out I had last night.
- You did? - Yeah.
Wow. You know, that's really sexy.
Really?
It's the weirdest thing. I'm seeing you in this whole new light.
Well, you should see the other guy. He's fine.
I kind of want you.
- Really? - No. Go away.
Oh.
Listen...
I'm coming up to see Morgan.
Can't you just leave her alone?
She had me out drinking until 2:00 in the morning last night,
ranting and raving over the sick mind game
that you and Grady are playing.
You two jackoffs are fucking up my shit now.
Have you tried smoking pot to cool down?
It helps me unwind when I'm stressed out, like you are now.
Plus, it really increases my orgasm when I masturbate.
- Oh. - Oh, my God.
You remind me...
Of a girlish Tilda Swinton?
I get that all the time.
No, of a rash I picked up in South America.
Headache, nausea, made my skin crawl.
Sounds like the symptoms of lovesickness. Maybe I'm growing on you.
You couldn't grow on me with all the seeds and soil in the world.
Eh. Could you tell Morgan I'm here?
She's in a meeting.
Please. We need to talk about Grady.
Thanks for staying late, guys. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?
Hello.
Ooh. Caramel macchiato. Excellent choice.
Do you want me in on this?
Actually, yes. I do want the restraint of a witness present.
Hmm, I'd prefer a private sitdown,
so if you don't mind, Hannah.
Is he really living with you?
Yes, he even went grocery shopping.
He's fucking unbelievable.
- You want to know what else he's doing? - No. What?
Hitting on strange girls, trying to have sex with them.
Gross, charmless creatures,
not even in your evolutionary strain, let alone your league.
- No, he isn't. - Yes, he is!
Okay, relax.
We went out last night "muff scouting."
- His despicable words, not mine. - Okay, enough.
Do you really want to stay with this man?
A man who'd use your infidelity
- as nothing more than a... - Okay, will you stop?
..."wham, bam, ram another ma'am for free" card?
Okay, yeah, enough. Out. Out, go.
Step inside my new kind of love!
Go! Go home to your boyfriend.
You need weed very badly.
Auf Wiedersehen, loser!
German? I knew it.
- Where are you going? - I'm going to see Grady.
I mean, I screwed this up, but it's his fault, too.
No, Morgan...
He can't act like this, okay?
He should be fighting for me, for us.
You would just be wasting your breath.
He is a brain-damaged ape. They all are.
As soon as they get a head full of steam, they're impossible to control.
So, just let him beat his chest, wag his dick,
whatever else he needs to do to start thinking clearly again.
He will come crawling back, I promise.
Now, come on. Worry about you.
Worry about this pitch.
- I don't pay you enough, do I? - No, you don't.
Let's remember that.
There he is. You ready for round two there, slugger?
It's ladies' night at a whiskey bar downtown.
No, no. My head is still throbbing from last night.
That's evidence of an excellent two-fisted outing. Congrats.
No, I was hoping we could stay in,
you know, put some ice cubes in the bong shaft for a nice cool smoke,
order some Thai, maybe hit up some Easy Listening on Pandora.
Come on, buddy, that sounds like
a fuckin' baby shower in Portland.
We're not gonna get laid like that.
Let's get a little pre-party buzz going before the Uber arrives.
Listen, I know you're on vacation and everything,
but just because I agreed to room with you
doesn't mean that I also agreed to a nightly Rat Pack tribute.
I'm staying in tonight.
You're gonna do what I say,
and that is that we're going out.
You're not the boss of me.
"stopbullying.gov." Visit it.
You know what I've got in here?
The private number of every police chief
and circuit judge in the county.
Big whoop.
How do you think those people would feel
about your attempt to blackmail my wife for $15,000?
Yeah, that's not good for you.
Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna get dressed.
No hoodies, no sneakers, no disturbingly tight shorts.
I want my wingman to look like a real man.
So I make the mistake of dressing as sexy Gumby
to my Halloween office party,
and I'm hiding in this room
because my drunk, douchey boss is always wanting to fuck me and stuff.
So Grady finds me all upset in the Xerox room,
and he just gives me this pep talk, you know?
Like, about quitting my job, and about opening my own firm,
and just fucking getting life by the balls, you know?
So, five minutes later, my fucker boss gooses my ass,
so I pick up this bowl of hummus,
and I just smash it over the fucker's head. Seriously.
Grady was so great at the police station.
I mean, he stood by my side, he got me off,
and then, you know, he got me off.
And, you know, we've just been together ever since.
He asked if you wanted chicken on your nachos.
That's not what I heard.
Oh, Jesus, what is this? It smells like a dead body.
- MacCoinnich. - What?
Quadruple-distilled. Drink it.
Oh, my God, it's burning me.
It's burning everything.
92% alcohol.
It's what Scottish priests would drink whenever they were constipated.
Here, do another.
I don't really want to do another one.
- The second one is better. - Is it?
Do it.
That actually makes me...
Oh, my God, it's worse.
Yeah. It's killing all the tumors in your throat right now.
- You all right? - Yeah.
Come on. Drink another.
I mean, we're...
Down the haggis hole.
Yeah!
Hey. You wanna talk?
Who brought a cat?
How long was I out?
About an hour.
Is it midnight yet?
No, it's 9:30.
Come on, keep drinking.
I believe it was Hemingway who once wrote,
"No man is truly a man till he vomits
"behind Big Jim's Pancake House."
Let's go, Grandpa, fuck or fight?
Those are hurtful words, Jerry.
You know, I bluffed the DA when I had your charges dropped,
but I'm not bluffing today.
Look at that.
Hey, wait a second.
Where the fuck is everybody?
Stensland.
She's left him.
Grady, let me in!
Grady!
Let me in! Grady, please let me in!
I have had more alcohol than oxygen for a week.
I can't wait to get home and slip into my jimmy-jammies.
Cabbie, Campus and 27th. Step on it.
What campus? Campus?
Stensland! Stensland! Stensland!
Stop it!
I said, shut up, God damn it!
What's wrong with you people?
Has the collegiate experience become so dull in this country
that causing irreversible harm to your bodies
with this binge drinking is the only way to have a hoot?
This isn't fun!
This is sadomasochism!
Have you never heard of board games?
Scattergories is a laugh riot!
Whatever happened to Spin the Bottle
and kiss-chasing on the green?
You're all alcoholics.
You need to attend meetings!
Well, screw it, I'm making a stand!
Let's put an end to these black sabbaths and brain damage!
Join me and say,
"We don't have to be party animals to be cool!"
Let's make him drink from the hobo's boot!
Yeah!
Hobo's boot! Hobo's boot!
Hobo's boot!
Hobo's boot! Hobo's boot! Hobo's boot!
How did that boot taste, buddy?
Like homelessness in my mouth.
Why did you make them refill it?
We didn't have enough camera coverage for the YouTube video.
Hey, it was the hit of the party. You're gonna be a legend.
Please tell me you found your "bang strange" lady tonight.
I didn't, I didn't,
but Bacardi's is hosting a pool party tomorrow night.
There'll be fur-burgers grilling all night long.
- Tomorrow? - Tomorrow night.
- I don't... - Come on. Come on, watch your head.
Watch your head, watch your head, watch your head.
You know what? We're going to take a quick detour.
Uh...
When you hit this stop sign, let's go to the right.
My tummy hurts.
Uh, we'd better get going.
Oh, God!
Uh, we need to turn around.
He fell out.
Where did I come from?
Thank you.
Stensland?
Oh...
Please don't be mean to me right now. I'm hanging on by a thread.
What the hell are you doing here?
I'm hiding from Grady.
At Soft Solutions?
Yeah. It's my favorite place.
It's clean, comfortable, the staff are warm-hearted.
Stensy!
Hey, Brandon, looking svelte, hombre.
They're so nice to me here.
Oh, God, you're weird.
Okay, well, I'll leave you to it.
No, no, no, please don't go.
Come on. We need to talk. Let's square our beef.
Come and check out the "Casual Refinement" Living Room set, huh?
- Seriously? - Yeah.
There we go.
Take a deep breath, relax.
Let the comfort and ambience envelop you.
So, madam, what brings you to Soft Solutions today?
Are you shopping for a new home or just browsing?
None of the above.
Returning a hideous Moroccan throw rug for Morgan.
God damn it. I picked that out for her.
You did?
You met Morgan here?
Yeah. In Decor Enrichments.
God, she was so beautiful.
I was intimidated, to say the least, but, I don't know,
I got brave, we started talking, and we clicked.
I just wanted a girlfriend.
Aw.
Okay, listen, let me give you a tip as your search continues.
Going psycho and blackmailing a woman
isn't going to change her mind about your boyfriend potential.
- That's fair enough. - Yeah.
You know she really loves Grady, right?
Yeah, I know.
God, I can't wait to get these people out of my life.
- Then kick Grady out. - I can't.
I'm a blackmailer, remember? He could have me arrested.
I'm his Kunta Kinte until he decides to set me free.
That's not gonna happen until he balances the scales with Morgan
and gets his revenge schtup.
Okay, so then what are you doing
to help him on this ridiculous mission?
Nothing. I hate going out.
I'm a total curmudgeon.
And a whiny little bitch.
I wear pajama tops and flip flops to nightclubs.
You have the social skills of a truck driver with Asperger's.
I'm a horrible wingman.
You're like a colossal cockblocker.
Oh, my God.
Hannah.
I'm the reason Grady hasn't pulled the dick trigger.
Good God, you're a genius.
You're just realizing this now?
Grady? Where are we headed tonight?
I am parched for hootch!
Dear Dumbass.
I have some work to get done at the office.
Consider yourself on parole.
Love, the Motherfucker in Charge.
Not on my watch, Kemosabe.
Yeah, looking good, Stensy.
Keep the change, baby.
Get yourself something nice.
What was that?
It's checking out time.
What the fuck are you doing here?
Put that shit away. It's Thursday night, weekend's already started.
Jesus Christ, you look like shit.
Is that my Rocco Richetti pinstripe?
Yeah. Fits like a condom, right?
All I'm saying is Ladies' Night
at the Trinity Club is already in progress.
Three floors of DJs, dancing, and binge drinking.
You take all those ingredients, put 'em in a muffin pan,
when they come out of the oven,
they're hot, sweaty, and destined for regret.
Come on. Are we gonna settle the score with Morgan or what?
Let's finish what you fuckin' started.
You know what? You're right.
Fuck it. Let's do it.
Who is the ringleader? You're up! You're up. You're up.
Who is the ringleader? You're up! You're up! You're up!
Who is the ringleader? You're...
- Wow. You guys live here? - Yeah.
We've stripped away all the snobbery of modern trendy furnishing
to create a streamlined hidey-hole of purified partying.
We call it "beatnik chic."
- Works for me. - Cool.
- Tequila! - Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!
Fuck. I lasso Doublemint twins for us,
and you sit here like a gassy infant? Come on!
- What the fuck happened to you? - Burns so good, baby.
Ai! Yi-yi-yi-yi!
- Was that a Middle Eastern war cry? - That was.
- Where did that come from? - I don't know.
You get up off of your vagina.
You're embarrassing yourself. Come on.
Fuck.
The next one's for you, handsome.
Remember what we're doing here.
Thank you.
Are we too cray-cray for you, Grady?
Yes.
You'll have to excuse my friend.
He gets bashful around beautiful women.
- Aw! - Aw!
- We need music. - Yes!
Whoa... Cool! Records, just like my nana's house.
The next shots are gonna come out of my navel, boys.
- Here, help me up, Stensy. - Ooh. Yeah.
I got it. Billy Ocean!
Oh. Oh, no, no, no.
You know, I don't think Billy Ocean is such a good idea.
Who's Billy Ocean?
What's your problem with Billy Ocean?
I... I just react strangely to his music, okay?
I just... I just have an emotional relationship.
There's a lot of history there, okay? So, don't put it on.
Hmm. You hear that, girls?
Stensland reacts strangely to Billy Ocean's music.
No, no, no, elaborate.
- No, I don't really... - Come on! Please?
- No, no, no, because... - Stensy...
Fine, fine, okay. It's...
It's kind of sappy, but, uh, it's genuine Stensland.
All right.
Amber McGinnitty was the prettiest
12-year-old in the history of 12-year-olds.
She loved Billy Ocean, and I loved her, so I studied him.
He was everything I wasn't. Suave, soulful, fashionable, black.
My mother made me a little white suit just like Billy's.
I put it on, locked myself in my bedroom, and danced to his jams.
And then I'd cry and feel sorry for myself.
Oh...
Aw...
So, anytime I hear the sounds of the Ocean now,
it just puts me in mind of Amber McGinnitty.
Well, did you ask her out?
Yes, to the Tropical Para-dance.
And she said yes?
- Oh! - Oh...
- Ooh.
- Oh, Stensy... - Oh, that's nice.
Hey. Hey, hey. I would hug you, too, but, um...
I've got a beverage in my bellybutton.
- Come on. - Come on.
Um...
Suck me.
Do it. Suck her.
Go, Stensy!
Yeah, Stensy! Whoo!
Whoo!
Fucking slut.
What?
I'm sorry. Samantha is a fucking slut.
You're nice, Stensland. It's just...
I kind of had my heart set on Grady,
and fucking bitch Samantha does it again!
She just sluts it up so early that they can't even choose
when it comes time to pick rooms,
and then I just always get stuck with the, you know...
With the what?
With the dorky one?
With the pale and waifish pity case? The goat boy?
The sad sack who only watches programming intended for teen girls?
I'm sorry.
Oh, my God! This bathroom is disgusting!
What?
Well, I did it last night.
You did what last night?
She was young and quite gorgeous.
So, how's it feel?
It feels awful.
Is there anything else?
No.
I've got nothing else to say, Morgan.
Well, then goodbye, Grady.
Goodbye.
Oh, hey.
Sorry about last night.
Yeah.
Whatever.
Hey, Stensland.
Good morning, Michael.
- Thank you. - Okay.
Excuse me, can you help me?
I'm sorry, I don't actually work here.
Are you Billy Ocean?
Feelin' pretty blue, huh, Stensy?
Deep blue, Billy. I fucked up, big style.
You sure did, my pale friend.
I indulged Grady's penis when it was his heart that needed a hand.
Ah, this beach party ain't over, Stensy.
It runs on island time.
What's track number six off of Love Zone?
Track number six...
It's Never Too Late To Try.
Slip on a new pair of boat shoes.
The world needs your help, Stensy.
In fact, I need your help right now.
- You do? - I do.
Where can I find me a love seat impervious to cat pee?
What?
Do you know, young man?
I... Wait, where did your breezy suit go?
You're not Billy Ocean.
Breezy suit? Focus, son.
I'm looking for a love seat that won't stain
when my wife's crazy cat takes a whizz on it.
Oh.
Yeah, uh, of course.
Well, the "Home Sweet Home" collection
has an optional stain-resistant fabric.
Excellent.
Come right this way, sir.
Now, this textile has the look and feel of cotton,
but totally kicks blemishes to the curb.
Perfect. Does it come in tropical print?
- Morgan! - Oh, jeez.
Did you eat all the Bismarcks? There's not gonna be enough for the clients.
I'm sorry. I'm a little upside down right now.
Oh, Grady. Grady finally got his revenge last night.
He what?
Oh...
Yep.
- Who was it? - I don't know,
but up in here, she looks like Jessica Rabbit, only sexier.
I'm sorry. You can't be that surprised.
No, you're right, I'm not.
Can we look on the bright side?
We have more donuts?
No. Now, in Grady's stubborn mind,
the scales have finally been balanced.
He's shot his spiteful wad, and we both know
what happens to guys after they blow their load.
They get real.
It's too late to get real, Hannah.
I mean, it is over. It is over like smoking on planes is over.
I'm telling you, if he was to walk in here right now
and get down on his knees
with the Hope Diamond, I would not take him back.
Fuck him.
Fuck him and his... His dreamy blue eyes.
Oh, God, I hope Judy in Accounting has mini-Snickers.
Oh, hello there.
Just wanted to pay you in advance for the kid's rent.
Just a couple of months.
Stensland.
Thank you.
- Hey. - You got a job?
Yeah, my new grindstone.
Well, you look sharp.
- Thanks. - Congratulations.
Where are you going?
Ah, get some work done, then check into the Four Seasons.
I tormented you long enough.
You slept with Samantha, I assume?
No, I didn't. I couldn't.
Well, you know,
the heart pumps blood into the penis,
but when that heart is broken...
- Oh, God, give me a break. - ...the penis...
My penis wasn't the problem, dumbass.
And if you're so smart about this stuff,
why did she fuck around on me to begin with?
- With you! - I don't know.
Isn't marriage supposedly harder than pole vaulting?
My parents lasted for four years and threw in the sponge.
You and Morgan prevailed for 15.
But after 15 years of anything,
even something good is bound to fritz a little, right?
I don't know if it's been good for a long time, Stensland.
Whose fault is that, do you think?
I'm sorry, but why don't you just go home?
To Morgan.
You know she's sorry! You are too!
Because everything has changed, that's why.
No, look, your love has just been tested.
Like Aladdin in the Cave of Wonders,
or when Wonka's golden ticket-holders got Everlasting Gobstoppers.
You passed the test, Grady.
You still love each other!
Sometimes, you have to lose somebody completely
before you can figure out what they really mean to you.
Why don't you go and tell her that?
I appreciate you caring. It's not that simple.
Goodbye, Stensland.
Your butch ego is getting in the way
of your happiness, you asshole!
You're really not going to her?
No, I am not going to her.
Okay. Well... I am.
You wanna know why she cheated on you? The truth?
It's because of me.
I'm the romantic and sensitive type of man
Morgan knows she should've married.
All I had to do was pay her one gooey compliment,
and those waterlogged panties hit the floor.
Ker-splash.
Your wife is the finest piece
of ass and boobs I've ever tasted,
and I'm going right back to her office, right now
to get me some more!
Son of a bitch. Stensland!
My tongue is gonna be in her vagina so long, it'll pickle!
I'm gonna make her go...
All over again!
Come on. I'm gonna fucking kill you.
You don't deserve her! I do!
I'm gonna bury you, dig you up, and kill you again!
I'm killing you.
Hey, girls.
Sorry.
- I owe you one. - No problem, sweetheart.
Stensland, you little prick!
Ooh.
Must be the husband.
- I guess so. - Mm-hmm. I'd tap that.
Not now, Muumuu!
Stensland!
Ooh!
Stay! Stay! Stay!
Stay! Stay, stay!
What the... Those are $2,000 pants, asshole!
Morgan needs a fresh young buck,
not a bitter old nelly! Fuck you!
Son of a bitch.
What the hell do you want?
Stensland!
Hey! Hey!
Come back here, you little shit!
Son of a bitch!
Where the fuck...
- Counselor? - Tiny!
Carrot-top, half-pants, which way?
Through the house. Want a knife?
No, I'm good. Thanks, Tiny.
Re-draw hearing Tuesday! Judge's chambers! Don't be late!
That's my lawyer.
I'm gonna put my willy in her!
Son of a bitch!
Fuck you!
Die, fucker.
Taxi! Sorry.
So, where to, gentlemen?
Okay.
- Going up, in her vagina. - You little bitch.
So, what impact does traditional
earned media have in the marketplace?
Well, I'm going to tell you.
Oh, shit.
Call the paramedics!
Now you're going to get the ass-kicking you deserve.
Could you just free my windpipe?
- No. - I'm getting an erection.
Call security, please.
I'm really sorry, everyone. Um...
I apologize.
We are going to have to reschedule this. I'm so sorry.
So...
Okay, folks. I'll call you tomorrow to reschedule. Thank you.
- Sorry. - The pitch was blown anyway.
Thank you. Grady.
Hannah.
Four weeks, I've been working on that presentation.
Morgan, he's come to apologize.
- Wait, hang on. - Yes, you did, Grady.
Morgan,
you should've seen how he reacted
when I told him I was coming here to fuck you again.
He was transformed into a violent love werewolf.
Cursed not by the bite of another love wolf,
but by his ferocious, undying love for you, his luminous bride.
This romance has teeth, people.
Your saga puts me in mind of Napoleon and Josephine in many ways.
- Despite adultery and... - Stensland.
Yeah? Oh.
Come on, Grady.
We wouldn't have burst in like this
if I'd known that, you know, the pitch was today.
Oh, but how would you have known about this pitch?
It didn't involve you.
It doesn't matter.
Hannah's right. It was screwed from the beginning.
Really?
But you're the best PowerPoint player in the game.
Yeah, well, you know what?
Not on the day that my husband calls me
to tell me he screwed someone else.
Right.
He's gonna fuck this up.
No, he won't.
Come on, Grady, give her the straight shit.
Listen, Morgan, I, uh...
I lied about that.
I didn't sleep with anybody.
I tried, but I didn't.
Why not?
Because I couldn't stop thinking about you.
And about us.
That's good.
I owe you an apology, and I get that now.
Grady, what do you get?
That I'm the one that screwed up our marriage.
I neglected you, and I abandoned us.
And your firm took off, and my career took off...
I tried. I was trying so hard, Grady.
I know you did.
I saw it. But I was stupid, and I was lazy,
and I took you, the only woman I've ever been in love with,
I took you for granted, just like a...
An asshole.
And I'm sorry, Morgan.
But assholes can learn.
And I think, in a positive way, our love has been tested.
Not unlike Aladdin in the Thunder Cave,
or even Willy Wonka when he was giving food away
- to the homeless. - What?
He's getting Wonka all wrong.
Oh, Grady. I'm sorry, too.
Look, I do know one thing.
Sometimes you have to completely lose somebody
before you can really appreciate what they mean to you.
Fucker.
- I'm almost impressed right now. - Oh, don't be.
Grady subconsciously knew what I was doing.
- You think? - Yeah.
He's too mule-headed to come see her on his own,
so I just gave him an excuse rooted in an emotion
he's comfortable expressing. Blind, vengeful fury.
Hmm.
On second thought, that is pretty impressive. Admire me accordingly.
Well, as Mary Poppins and a paraphrased Jesus once said,
"My work here is done."
Goodbye, Hannah.
Bye.
- You're welcome. - What?
Hey!
Oh.
We wanted to thank him.
Yeah, well, it'll have to wait.
He's on to his next adventure. Or whatever.
He seems different somehow. Like, I don't know.
Like a big, beautiful condor
that people will respect and fear.
"I can't believe that used to be Stensland," they'll say.
"I can't believe that used to be Stensland."
That is delightful and witty.
I know.