05x02 - Episode 2

[bunniefuu]

[siren blaring]

- Here are some scenes from last week's episode.

- Did you k*ll that guy?

- Nope.

- Did you k*ll that guy?

- Nope.

- Hey, did you k*ll that guy? - No.

- Did you k*ll that guy?

- Nope.

- Look!

Did you k*ll that guy? - No.

both: * Did you k*ll that guy

- Nope.

[tense music]

- And now, this week's exciting conclusion.

*

- Did you k*ll that guy?

- Nope.

- Damn, this guy's tough.

- Yeah.

- Huh.

[laid-back rock music]

*

*

- Hello?

Hello? Your door's open.

You've left your door open.

- Well, come on in.

- What?

- Come on in.

- Well, I'm a bit busy.

- Oh, please, please, please.

It's important.

- Well, I've really got a lot of things to--

- Oh, please, please, please.

It's very important.

- Okay.

- You're not just coming in

because you feel sorry for me, are you?

- No, I'm coming in because you asked me

please, please, please to come in.

- I only ask because the loneliness is k*lling me.

- You live alone?

- Oh, no, no. The wife's in the bedroom.

She never comes out, though.

Oh, would you like some smokes?

- No, thanks. I don't smoke.

- Oh, price of smokes, eh? Crazy.

- Really terrible.

- Like, remember six years ago they were $?

And then they were $.. Remember that?

- No, I don't smoke.

- And then they went to $.. f*ck, I nearly quit.

And then they elected that idiot Bob Rae.

- Well, you shouldn't smoke anyway.

- Oh, I know. I know. I know.

It's terrible.

I quit this one time, except I couldn't.

- You said there was something important?

- Oh, oh, yeah.

Honey, we got a visitor.

- [coughing]

- That's the little lady, eh?

She's got a bad case of, um, the gout.

She never comes out. Can't do nothing.

So I've got to do all the housework around here.

Except I can't.

- Well, that's too bad.

I really should get going, though.

- Oh, no. Please, please, please.

- What? What is it?

- Do you think you could go in there and roll her over?

- What?

- Just roll her over. She won't know it's you.

She'll probably think you're an angel or something.

- Why don't you do it?

- Oh, no, no, no.

I don't go in there. No, no, never, no.

- Never? How does she eat?

- Oh, she calls the pizza boy. He takes it in.

He's got nerves of steel, that one.

- Listen, I can't do this. You should call a professional.

- Oh, please. I'll give you a toe.

- What?

- I'll give you a toe, a Korean toe,

a souvenir from the w*r.

- You'll give me a Korean toe

for turning over your invalid wife?

- Oh, don't worry. I got nine more. It's nothing.

- [coughing] - I've got to get going.

- Oh, no, please!

- Never speak to me again. You can keep your toe.

Where's the light switch?

- It's there, on the right.

all: Surprise! [party horn blows]

- Happy birthday! Happy birthday.

- What the hell?

- Hey, we surprised you, didn't we?

- Yeah, this year you surprised me.

- Hey, let's go to Shaky's!

- Hey!

Did you roll her over?

You said if I lent you this place for the surprise

you'd roll her over!

- Yeah, yeah, sure.

- You didn't roll her over, did you?

Aww. - [coughing]

[upbeat rock music]

*

- Sir, it's a madhouse out there.

And we're almost out of special sauce.

- Shh.

- Don't shush me.

You're not out there on the front lines.

The special sauce, it's almost gone.

It's almost gone!

- Can't you see our crew chief is thinking?

He can't-- no, he mustn't be disturbed.

- What? I'm confused.

- Right now his thoughts are in a raw, pure state.

They have not fully crystallized.

Do you want them to tumble out of his mouth

prematurely into this world?

Now do you understand?

- Yeah, I guess so.

What's he thinking about?

- One never knows.

For he is the chosen one.

Hand-picked by the powers that be,

the gods who sign our paychecks.

His thoughts can range from the simplest:

"Oh, gee, my ass is itchy."

To the most profound:

"If there is a God, does he have a job?"

- Wow.

All my thoughts tend to be

in the "hey, my ass is itchy" category.

- That's why the chosen one is special.

He can relate to simple people like us.

And still talk to the powers that be.

He can bridge the gap.

He's the go-between. He is the one--

- Todd. Todd?

Todd? Todd? - Yes, sir?

- Todd, Todd, in the back of the fridge, in the walk-in,

there is a bucket marked "pickles."

But do not be deceived;

it is actually a bucket of special sauce.

It has been improperly labeled.

Go and take it.

It should get you through the rush.

- Yes, sir.

- Crispin?

- Yes, Chosen One?

- I'm going to need some aspirin and a glass of water.

- I'd be honored, Chosen One.

- I'm so alone.

narrator: This is Margaret Turcotte.

An odd name for a man, but his parents,

two weeks after his birth,

still not having named their .-pounder, panicked.

Margaret [baby cries]

Yes, Margaret.

A -year-old bachelor,

although that is not the way he would define himself.

This is Sandra Gottlieb, a -year-old nursing aid.

Makes $, a year, never married.

And that is how she would describe herself.

The crux of our story surrounds a chance meeting.

This is our filmmaker.

He thought for several days

of how he would introduce our couple's chance meeting.

At first he considered an elaborate,

swooping, crane sh*t,

following our subjects to their meeting place.

His intention with this expensive sh*t

was to say that this is one story of many.

That the world is all connected, man.

The production elements of this very show

thought that Bruce had not taken into consideration

the logistical problems inherent in filmmaking.

The idea was scrapped.

[roulette marble clattering]

Instead, it was decided that we would see our two friends

in easy-to-achieve handheld sh*ts walking down the street.

Now, as Margaret walks down the street,

to be quite truthful, his mind is occupied

with the thoughts of receiving handjobs from strange women.

Every so often, handjob fantasies will be interrupted

with the occasional flash of food.

As Sandra walks down the street she, to be quite candid,

is consumed by the thought of men's bums

as they go for a morning pee.

Going for their morning pee

after they've given her a good night's loving.

These men, in Sandra's mind, all have faces.

Some work in her office,

or boyfriends of friends, et cetera.

Whereas Margaret's fantasies

involve seemingly faceless women

with soft but strong handjob hands.

One may think this is, in a nutshell,

the difference between men and women.

But let's not be too hasty, for these are,

as our filmmaker believes, just two people of many.

Now, as Margaret walks, handjobs and food on his mind,

Sandra's morning buttocks are replaced

with a longing more easy to fill,

and that is to of food.

Today she had decided to break her self-imposed diet

and stop at this hot dog stand.

This is where my voice fades into a listener's ear,

as our two young heroes meet

at a hot dog cart outside a building,

which could be any cart in front of any building.

[dispenser burps]

- Hi.

- Hi.

- Bye. - Bye.

narrator: I'm back.

So there it is, our chance meeting.

There goes Sandra, diet broken, hot dog in hand.

And what is she thinking about?

[baby cries] She thinks of Margaret.

And Margaret?

He thinks of Sandra.

And the overwhelming question of what could have been

if they had connected.

Random hands have been taken over by a person.

A triumph for feminism? Who's to say.

But our filmmaker believes this is a glimpse

at the small sadnesses that are housed in streets, buildings,

and yes, hot dog stands in every city.

Oh, look, an overhead sh*t.

I guess our novice filmmaker intended to conclude

that we are driven by, consumed,

and most importantly, cast unknowingly,

in the daydreams that make up this and each city.

Your city?

You?

Fade.

[siren blaring]

- What the hell are you doing here?

- Only place I can smoke.

[upbeat rock music]

*

- Ben, what can I do for you?

- Roger, I know we haven't spoken to each other

in some time, but there's a favor I'd like to ask of you.

- Sure, of course.

I told you if there's anything I can ever do to help out--

- That's very kind, Roger.

Now, this is my friend and neighbor, Larry.

- Pleased to meet you, Larry.

- Now, Roger, I'm making a document of my life.

A chronicle one man's pain.

I'm trying to re-create some of the moments

that have made me what I am today.

- Yes?

- I'd like to re-create the moment that you fired me, Roger.

- Oh, Ben, I'm not so sure that's such a wise--

- This is very important to me, Roger.

- I don't even remember. That was months ago.

I see a script.

Well, all right.

I assume I'm "Boss" and you're "Everyman."

- Yes.

Ready?

All right.

And, action.

Yes, sir. You wanted to see me?

- Yes. Come in, have a seat.

- I see that something is troubling you.

- This hurts me.

And it shames me.

- I understand.

- I didn't say this.

- Cut! Cut! Cut.

I'm sorry?

I thought you said you didn't remember.

- I remember I didn't say any of this.

- Look, I didn't want to have to tell you this,

but HBO has expressed interest in my story, so--

- Is it money that you need, Ben?

- It's not about money.

It's about one man's metamorphosis.

It's about a man's death and rebirth, all right?

- Fine, all right, okay.

This isn't about-- - Wait for it.

And, action.

- This isn't about you and me.

I think that, given enough time,

you could revitalize this tired organization

and lead us all boldly into a new era.

- I didn't know you felt that way.

In fact, there were even times when I felt ignored.

- Never ignored. Never.

But there are men, powerful men,

who have watched you with jealous, fearful eyes.

Jesus.

They would have me cast you into the wilderness,

a lonely light wandering a dark world.

- And you would protect me

at the risk of your own livelihood?

You are a good and noble friend.

But I cannot allow you to make this sacrifice.

No, it is better that I go now.

Do not try to stop me.

Farewell.

And, cut.

Thank you, Roger. That was wonderful.

- You know, Ben,

I don't remember verbatim what was said,

but I do remember that you called me a puss-head.

And I also have a vague recollection

of having to call security

because you were trying to induce yourself to vomit

on my desk.

- Well, I guess we all view the past

through our own personal prisms.

- Get out of my office.

- I'd love to, Roger, but I'm afraid I have to go.

- Hazel, could you send Winters in here?

Winters, have a seat.

This is the hardest part of the job.

- What?

- But there are men, powerful men,

who have watched you with jealous, fearful eyes.

- I knew it!

- This hurts me and shames me...

[laid-back music]

*

- So where the hell is this place?

- It's a little out of the way,

but it's a magnet for chicks.

And we are gonna get laid tonight.

- That is our mission.

- Oui, mon capitan.

- Whoo! - Whoo-hoo!

[laughter]

Yes, sir. Hunti'' for chicks in bear country.

- Bear country?

- Oh, yeah, the forest around here

is a nesting area for grizzlies.

- Lucky for me I went to cub scouts.

So I'll know exactly what to do if we come across a grizzly.

Or some women.

- One-track mind.

I like.

[laughter]

- Women! - Women.

- Whoo! - Women!

- Chickies! - Where are they?

- Come on, chickies. - [barking]

[lively dance music]

*

- Are you sure this isn't a gay bar?

- [laughs] No way.

My friend who told me about this place

is straighter than straight, okay?

- Hello, this is your DJ, Harry Balls,

reminding you that in an hour the Macho Men will be playing.

But until then, keep dancing, boys.

[all yelling]

- Okay, well I'm going to go try and find some ladies.

[barks]

*

- [belches]

*

*

*

*

[wolf howling]

[owl hooting]

- Listen up, kids.

Surviving a grizzly bear att*ck.

You may never know when you'll need this.

*

Step one: Never stare the grizzly in the eyes.

The grizzly may think you're challenging him.

*

You do not want to challenge the grizzly.

He may att*ck.

- [growls]

- Step two: Should the bear continue his pursuit...

- [growls]

- Play dead.

- [growls]

- [gulps]

- Step three: Climb to the highest place you can find.

[playful folk music]

- [growls]

*

- But, should bear get hold of you,

do not fight back.

*

- So what happened to you last night?

Oh, did you get lucky? Huh?

Come on, you haven't said a word all morning.

Why don't you just tell me what happened?

All right, fine, tell me when you want to.

- I was, um, att*cked by a bear last night.

- What?

Oh, my God. When?

- I don't want to talk about it.

- Oh, that's really weird.

Because I could have sworn that you had sex.

- I don't want to talk about it.

- I mean, come on, you've got human hair all over you there.

- I don't want to talk about it.

- Aww, come on.

- I don't want to talk about it.

- She beg?

- I don't want to talk about it.

*

[siren blaring]

[grunting]

[alarm buzzes]

- You boys done with my phone book?

- Uh, sure. Yeah, we found number we were looking for.

- Great, great, great.

Oh, by the way, did you hear they found the guy

that k*lled that other guy?

- Uh, yeah. - Yeah, sure.

- We knew that. - Yeah, we knew.

- So what's this guy's story?

- Uh, he's a friend from high school.

- High school.

- We were just reminiscing about the overhead projector.

[nervous laughter]

- Stupid f*ckin' pigs.

- Hey. - Hey, hey!

He was always the class clown.

- Oh.

- I'm going to sue you pigs for police brutality.

[laughter]

- [laughing maniacally]

[playful rock music]

*