- How much longer do we have to wait for this car?
Which app is this again?
- Oh, it’s called GoX.
It’s short for Goatee Express
because their cars have goatees on them.
- Ugh, these ride sharing apps are so humiliating.
- But what are we supposed to do?
New York City’s on high alert,
and we’re not supposed to use the subways.
- What choice do we have
besides riding in cars with facial hair on them?
- My favorite Penny Marshall- Drew Barrymore collaboration.
- And here I am running around,
and I still can’t find a Yahrzeit candle for my dad.
I don’t understand. How is this New York?
- When the city’s on edge, everybody just stocks up
on things like candles.
They don’t care that they’re Jewish memorial candles
you light on the anniversary of a loved one’s death.
- Why would they care this is the first time
since 2010 I haven’t been able to light a candle for my dad?
And that was a tough year. We lost my dad,
and Mel Gibson said you can see Oksana’s pussy from behind.
- I miss seeing movies with your dad.
- He loved everything.
Remember that time we saw "Welcome to Mooseport"
and the lights went up and he said, "I loved it."
Meanwhile, I don’t have a boyfriend,
and I hate having all these human emotions.
Maybe I should just give up trying to find love, you know?
I’m gonna go the Kevin Spacey route.
Just stop trying to be a human being,
and just focus on getting famous,
and then after I have a Netflix show,
focus all of my frustrations
on a boyfriend young enough to be my own son.
- I was about to say I don’t think
there’s anything much more depressing than that,
but here comes our ride.
[horn honking]
I can’t believe that stupid goatee
is gonna be the last thing we ever see
before we’re brutally murdered.
- Loophole, come to bed.
You only got nine hours last night,
and I never heard the end of it.
- I can’t. I have to recap
"Bachelorette," which is what you do
when you don’t have a real job writing comedy for television.
- I’m not taking your rose.
You hooked up with those two guys on the show.
I heard you blew them.
- Oh, that is so fucked up.
I mean, just because Ashley has the good sense
to chow down on the free chorizo buffet
ABC was kind enough to lay out for her,
that dipshit is shaming her like she’s some kind of a whore.
- An update on the city’s terror threat,
which has been raised from rose gold to bronze.
- Fuck, this better not dip into the rest of the show.
I taped this. Goddamn it.
How am I supposed to do my recap?
- Why don’t you just go online, and find out who she sent home,
and take it from there, dad bod?
- Yeah, tell me who went home, Jezebel.
Oh, Jesus Christ, Fern Fujihara?
This 14-year-old took a picture of a doughnut
that she put on a rodent’s head,
and now she’s repped by CAA?
Fuck this world.
- Good night, Blu-ray.
- Wow, your editor was okay with you submitting
this personal essay instead of your "Bachelorette" recap?
- To be honest with you I don’t think she even read it.
I feel like she just hits publish.
There’s rumors that she’s actually a goose.
- I can’t believe you wrote your 9/11 piece.
It must have taken you all night.
- Well, I procrastinated a little.
- Oh, was that when you sent me the link
to Kevin Spacey’s online acting classes?
- As a matter of fact, it is.
A $90 gag gift,
but it will be worth every penny
as long as it takes you a step further on your journey
to becoming Mr. Kevin Spacey.
- Oh, it already is. Look at this.
Sometimes you are the chicken,
and sometimes you are the corn.
- Ah, that’s amazing!
- What are you two sucking each other’s dicks about now?
- Julie wrote an article about how during the week of 9/11
she was so overcome with grief
that she self-medicated
by fucking 9 random guys and blowing 11.
- Way to give Donald Rumsfeld exactly what he wanted.
- Oh, are we talking about sowing our wild oats?
Hey, do you want to hear the story about the scar
I got on Merv Griffin’s houseboat?
- No, go away.
- Okay, fine, I haven’t shaved anyway.
Speaking of which, my big wedding is in two days,
and you all are invited to my bachelorette party.
- Why don’t you call it a bachelor party,
you Goddamn Teletubby?
- Lola, am I or am
I not allowed to call my bachelorette party
whatever I want?
- I don’t care.
I hate you.
And don’t you even think of misgendering me
by inviting me to your party.
- You better work.
- Matthew, I am a transwoman not a drag queen,
you fucking retard,
and I can say that because I used to be one.
Oh, shit, I meant faggot.
Sorry, Matthew.
- None taken, doll. - Oh!
[upbeat music]
- Oh, noodles, look at you.
You took our date night seriously.
- What? Date night?
Oh, shit, I thought you were joking.
No, I have plans with Billy tonight.
He did a headshot mailing and got us gigs as seat fillers
at the Mark Twain Awards ceremony.
They’re honoring "Mozart in the Jungle" this year.
- I was going to bring this up during dinner,
but, string cheese, I got a call from my mother today.
She and my dad read your piece.
- Oh, did they like it?
- They were disappointed that it was so tonally different
than my brother’s wedding announcement
in their golf club’s newsletter.
- That’s fair enough. - Bank holiday,
I didn’t know you were writing about me too.
- Arthur, you read it too!
- Yes, you made our relationship seem like a humdrum destination
after all the grief-related fucking and sucking.
- Wow, sounds like someone’s jealous
of something that happened 15 years ago,
which was not my fault, Arthur.
It was Al Qaeda’s.
So if you want to be mad at someone,
be mad at Mohamed Atta.
- I am.
[rock music]
- I’m so glad we got a driver who needed
to tell us his opinions on musical theater.
- I don’t care how many Tony’s it won.
The only thing more insufferable than "Fun Home"
is riding in this car with you idiots.
Serves us right for getting a cut rate
Uber ride sharing bad jalopy
with a bush on the grill.
- A fucking nightmare.
You know, talking to strangers is, in a way,
its own kind of terrorism.
Kevin Spacey says to always initiate a scene
even if the other actor technically talks first.
- Jesus Christ.
Is this the line?
- Yeah, they’re doing a bag check
because of the bronze alert.
- Thank you.
See, that is the only extent
to which I am comfortable talking to stranger.
- How crazy is this weather?
- No, no, no, no, no. - Turn around asshole.
Okay, so the comments on my 9/11 essay
are only getting meaner. Listen to this one.
"Whore should have spent her week volunteering
at Ground Zero instead of fitting 11 dicks in her mouth."
- Who’s to say you couldn’t do both?
That was a long week.
- Yeah, multi-tasking. - Excuse me.
I’m sorry to overhear,
but did you write that article about fucking 9 guys
and blowing 11 during the week of 9/11?
- I certainly did, and I certainly did.
- I like that piece. - Hey, thanks.
- I’m Sarah Nussbaum.
I’m a development executive at Josh Gad’s company, Gadzooks.
- Wow, Josh Gad’s company is based in New York?
Julie, the terrorists don’t stand a chance.
So what’s Josh Gad like?
- Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never met him.
He’s really busy,
but I’m in charge of the film department there.
Has anyone ever talked to you about optioning that essay?
- Well, sometimes when I take a bath
I pretend my dogs are Dana Brunetti
and Kevin Spacey and I pitch them, but-
- Aw, that’s really sad.
Why don’t you come by tomorrow, and we’ll talk about it?
- Seriously? - Yeah.
- Oh, my God. Yes, thank you.
- Okay, so now I’m going to go back
to standing behind you silently so it’s nice and awkward.
- Really?
- No, I’m going to go to the front
and tell security I’m a VIP.
See you tomorrow.
- Julie, that’s awesome! - Aaaah!
- Wow, you know, I’d heard
about adult coloring books
and how they’re supposed to relieve stress,
but I didn’t realize they depicted
actual adult situations, you know?
but look how pretty I made my herniated disks.
- Oh, yeah.
We love how you can breathe color into certain situations
like, considering an affair. - Mm-hmm.
- Which is why we optioned it for a movie.
- Great idea.
- Speaking of which,
we think your essay would make a really great movie.
We love how empowering it is to young women.
- You know, that was my goal.
Yeah, I remember thinking half way
through blow job number eight,
"Someday this’ll be good for women."
- We love things that are good for women.
- There’s so much out there that’s bad for women.
- So much bad for women.
- But then someone comes along who’s brave,
who’s not a size zero,
but is still okay with being seen,
and that is so empowering.
- Because then you’re like,
"At least I’m not as fat as her."
- Right? - Yes.
- Yeah.
The point is, we’re so excited to bring your voice to film.
- And we have an amazing co-writer we want you to meet.
- This means so much to me, you guys.
You know, recently I was actually kind of worried
that I wasn’t a girls girl.
- Don’t be a stupid bitch. [laughter]
- I even hung out with a group of Italian girls
from New Jersey who,
as I think about it, were pretty anti-Semitic.
But now I realize I can fit in with other girls,
and I don’t need to pretend to be someone else.
- You know what else is empowering?
Do you know that musical, "Fun Home?"
We’re making that into an online multi-platform game
for Xbox.
- What a great idea. - Right?
- I love "Fun Home."
- Yeah! [laughter]
- Poor Matthew.
One sip of a Capri Tini and he’s out like a light.
- You would think that a Capri Sun with a splash of rosé
wouldn’t have that much kick, and yet--
- My baby may not be able to handle alcohol,
but he can handle plenty of other things,
you know what I mean? - Yes.
- My cock. - Nope, no.
- It’s a big one. - I’m leaving.
- Hey, Denise and I said
we’d only pay you to be at this party
if you stayed the whole time.
- You’re right.
And Kevin Spacey does say,
"If they pay you, you have to show up."
That’s from class eight
which is exclusively about his voiceover work
in "A Bug’s Life."
- Let’s start playing the games.
Pass the torch?
Where’s the candle? - Oh.
This was the last one left at the deli.
- I can fit this in,
but whoever I pass it to had better be very relaxed.
It’s ass to ass, men,
as we did it in the Great War.
Are you in?
- No. And, Nate,
that is a Yahrzeit candle.
You light one on the anniversary of someone’s death.
I was looking for one for my dad.
- Oh, well, let’s do that instead of Elmer’s weird game.
- Okay, but you have to keep it burning for 24 hours.
- Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do,
go slink off into a corner and self-suck my own hog?
- I’m straight. - This party is no fucking good.
- I hate to admit this, Mr. Brunetti, Mr. Spacey,
but I’m really nervous.
Gadzooks is sending over this hot shit writer tomorrow,
Harvey something, and if we hit it off,
we’re gonna write our 9/11 movie together.
- Noodles, whenever you do pitch meetings
in the middle of the night,
I don’t have hot water to take a shower.
- I have to talk to the dogs
because every time I bring up my essay with you,
you get all weird.
Now, please, take Mr. Spacey for a walk.
I think he took a shit under the couch.
[light rock music]
♪ ♪
[knock at door]
- Harvey, known for comedy.
"Blues Brothers 2000."
"Police Academy 6."
And if you’re asking yourself,
what could I bring to your little fuck romp,
I was executive consultant
on "Red Shoe Diaries," seasons 3, 6,
and a good chunk of 8.
Where’s your toilet?
- Matthew, I have been here corpse-sitting your fiancé,
but this "Weekend at Bernie’s"
is coming to a close,
and his best friend, Marie, hasn’t even shown up yet.
- Her flight was delayed because of the terror alert.
- Well, I don’t know what you want me to do.
He’s moping around here like Tony Bennett
during Gaga’s parts of "Baby It’s Cold Outside."
Get over here, and pick him up.
- I’m getting married tomorrow.
I can’t have Elmer see me before the wedding.
It’s bad enough I’ve been sending pics
of my hole from the salon.
This bleacher’s a maestro.
- Do you have anything else you want to say that proves
Victoria Jackson was right? Or else I’m hanging up.
Good-bye.
- Hey. - Oh, hey, Arthur.
Julie’s not here. I don’t know where she is.
- She’s home. She’s not talking to me.
She has some writer guy coming over
so I came to talk to you.
- Look, Arthur, I don’t want to get involved.
- You know how she wrote this provocative article,
and she says I’m slutshaming her?
- What, were you freaked out that she fucked 20 guys
in a week? - Lightweight.
- So, what, were you jealous?
- Is it weird if I say yes?
- Well, it is a little straight guy of you, but--
- Well, I don’t exactly think of myself
as the mouth-breathing caveman type.
- Arthur, I don’t know from sexism, okay?
When I saw "I Stand With Wendy" was trending on Twitter,
I thought the Snapple lady had died,
but I guess I do think
that when you judge someone for sucking too much dick,
you’re dragging gay men and straight women down.
- I’m the opposite of homophobic.
- Then prove it. Suck my dick.
- No, thank you.
- Anyone who dates Julie
is gonna have to be a little gay.
I’m not saying effeminate, although, you know,
you already straddle that line with a very delicate balance.
- I like my handkerchief collection.
- Yeah, me too.
- Please, don’t even look at him.
He’ll take it the wrong way.
All I’m saying is, gays,
we don’t really get jealous of the guys
that came in the past.
Treat Julie right now, and you won’t have to worry
about there being guys that come after you.
- Yeah, that makes sense.
Thank you.
- Yeah, come here. - Oh, come here.
- All right. - Ah, now at last
we’re getting somewhere. - Go home.
- Bye. - Save yourself.
Pull that zipper back up.
Zip it, zip it.
There you go.
- So I said to Miss Sherilyn Fenn,
"Hey, missy, you could be replaced."
But this was when my IBS was at its peak.
Would you like to see my CableACE Award?
- No, thank you, Harvey, for the third time.
And would you please keep the food that you brought
and refused to share in your mouth
and not on the floor, okay?
My dogs can’t eat that much pastrami.
- Noodles, what’s that smell? - It’s bad ideas
and whatever cologne this hack bathed in.
- That, pussy, is my foot spray.
How are you?
Harvey. Known for comedy.
Would you like to see my CableACE Award?
This one was for "Dream On,"
the first sitcom to show yabbos.
- I’m Arthur Tack, Julie’s boyfriend.
- Boyfriend?
Really? - Yeah, why?
- I’ve always been fascinated
by men who are interested in loose women.
- Excuse me? - No, no,
no, you like what you like.
I like what I like.
And, aah, "Different Strokes,"
a sitcom, by the way,
that fired me because they claimed
that my pitches were racist and unfunny.
Here, let me tell you
why I should be able to use the N word.
- Listen, you dinosaur,
you don’t get to come into my house
and slutshame my girlfriend.
- No, no, no shame,
just some girls are meant to schtup
and some are meant to marry.
- Whomever my girlfriend was intimate with
before she met me has nothing to do with me
and is nothing for her to be embarrassed by.
Besides, I fucked inexperienced women before and it’s awful.
- Well, I am not leaving until I finish my sour pickle.
In fact, I’ll bet Carrot Top here
has left many a man with a case of sour pickle.
- You son of a bitch.
Oh.
- Ow, ow, ow. - How do you like that?
- Stop. - Oh, Jesus.
[laughing and grunting]
- Ow, ow, not my hair.
Ow, ow, my face.
- Sweetie, what’s the Zappos password again?
So you’re sure you’re okay with me
not wanting to work with Harvey?
- Oh, my God.
Of course.
- I was so nervous when I called you.
- Oh, no, in fact,
we think we found a brilliant solution.
- A brilliant solution.
- Fern, come in and say hi.
- Hi.
- Oh, such an original voice.
Julie, meet Fern Fujihara.
She Snapchats food that she doesn’t eat
that she balances on the forehead of her guinea pig,
and she is going to be adapting your life story
for the screen.
- Wait, I’m sorry,
so you want me to write a screenplay
with a 14-year-old?
- Oh, no, she’s gonna write it with Harvey.
- You said you didn’t want to.
- But don’t worry, she’s gonna write it in your voice.
- She’s gonna write it in my voice?
Who is she, Rich fucking Little?
- Who’s that?
Does he write for Rookie?
- No, no, no, no.
This is my story. This is my voice.
Nobody can write in my voice.
- Julie. - Where’s Josh Gad?
Josh Gad?
- Julie, he’s not here.
- Josh Gad? - He’s never here.
- Josh?
- So you told them to eat shit?
- Well, technically I blamed my little outburst
on low blood sugar,
locked myself in the ladies room,
ate a Twix bar, and when I came out I said
that Harvey and Fern were a dream pairing,
and I’d love to be involved with the project in any capacity.
- Oh, this is so degrading.
I bet this is what Kevin Spacey feels like
when some hot, young Latino guy
doesn’t get his Jack Lemmon impression.
- Well, the good news is if I make nice and hang out,
they might even let me name some of the characters.
- So you’re not giving up?
- No. I’m selling out.
- Well, as long as life continues to disappoint us,
I’m going to pee. Excuse me.
- Oh, hey, I’m just looking for the bathroom.
- Come here. I need help with my cuff link.
- I’m so sorry, I have to pee.
- No, come on, give an old-timer a hand,
you piece of shit.
- Okay.
- They belonged to my grandfather.
Genuine wooly mammoth ivory.
- I feel like Carl Reiner
interviewing the 2, 000-year-old bottom.
- First of all, I’m versatile.
Second, I know you think I’m a walking corpse
that you have nothing in common with, but you’re wrong.
Ah, thank you.
When I was your age I was just as single as you are,
and things were a lot worse back then.
- Were they? Because now everyone lives
in constant fear of terrorism,
and everyone meets on their phones now,
and you got to be a fucking bear or an otter,
and even if you do meet someone,
you never really know who they are,
and then they turn out to be fucking cannibals
or they’re old-timey neo-Nazis.
What the fucking fuck? Why me?
- Because you say shit like "why me?"
Self-pity is like eating a piece of bad fish.
And I’m not talking about pussy. - Delightful.
Can you get to the point of your elderly wisdom please?
I must pee.
- [stammering]
When you eat bad food you feel sick,
you fart all the time,
and no one wants to be around you.
And that’s where you are.
You’re a big fart,
and no one wants to be around you.
- Excuse me? I have friends. A friend.
- Then stop being such an impatient New Yorker.
It took me 97 years to meet Matthew,
but if you think I spent my whole life without love,
you’re as stupid as Fatty Arbuckle,
that stupid piece of shit.
- So glad you brought him up.
- Elmer.
Oh, Elmer, darling.
I am so sorry I’m late.
- Marie. Mwah.
- Marie. You’re real.
- Who’s this idiot?
- Oh, he’s just some mopey little faggot
who’s convinced he’s gonna die alone.
- Oh, well, boo fucking hoo.
I’m Elmer’s hag.
Do you know, those pig fuckers at the TSA
patted me down so hard I almost squirted.
But it’s gonna take more than a second 9/11
to keep me away from my best friend’s gay wedding.
- Marie’s the gal whose love sustained me
through the last century.
- Oh, and not the easiest century for gay men either.
- Nor sluts. - Hey, fuck you.
- Ha! - We have fun.
- This looks familiar.
- Marie? Who knew?
- Her and Elmer are actually pretty cute.
Arthur, what happened to your eye?
- I incurred the displeasure of a hacky comedy writer
who called Julie a hooker.
- Oh, I’m sorry.
Excuse me, you look familiar. Did we?
- Fuck the week of 9/11? - Yes!
[both laughing] How are you?
- I’m great. You look well.
- You look well.
Speaking of, I mean, this wedding--
Oh, got you. [mumbling]
- Great seeing you. Never forget.
- Hi, everyone.
My name is Rita, and I’m an ordained minister,
and I’ll be performing today’s nuptials.
Another fun fact is I live in the attic
of this banquet hall with my roommate, Kiki.
- If there’s anyone in the congregation
who’d like to buy some uppers, ludes,
angel dust or bennies, I’m holding.
- She sure is.
And you know what else Kiki’s holding?
Key to my heart.
- Oh, really. You’re too much.
- So we have to save the rest for later.
Let’s get this road on the show.
Hit it, Kiki.
[electronic rendition of "The Wedding March"]
♪ ♪
Ladies and gentlemen,
this evening’s performance, the role of the wedding,
will now be played by a funeral.
Apparently Elmer has suddenly died.
- What? - Chord change.
- Okay, everybody stay in their seats.
- No.
- This happens all the time, okay?
Funeral. Funeral.
Super sweet 16.
Father-daughter virginity pledge, oh, my God.
- Ladies and gentlemen, ever since Elmer and I met,
he has died, technically, every day,
from between 30 seconds and four minutes.
Even still, I find myself completely unprepared.
Key of B flat please.
Thank you.
["Ave Maria" playing]
- Ah.
♪ Ave ♪
♪ Maria ♪
♪ Gratia plena ♪
♪ ♪
♪ Maria ♪
♪ Gratia plena ♪
♪ Maria gratia plena ♪
- Just think, someday that could be us.
- I hope I fit into a body bag that size.
- Elmer and I met at a urinal.
I remember the first thing I said was,
"Hey, save some of that for me."
- Oh, no. - Not this again.
[groans and chatter] No.
[rock music]
- The weather’s terrible. What do you want to do?
Should we see a bad movie? - Oh, definitely.
And in honor of your dad, when the lights come up.
I’m gonna say, "I loved it!"
- And in honor of Elmer, I will expose my genitals
to everyone at Fandango.
- Hey, look who’s open to love again.
- To be honest, I got to episode 13
of Kevin Spacey’s Master Class,
and it was pretty much just him yelling at the lighting guy
to try to make his wig look real,
and I thought, "I don’t want to be like that."
- Good for you. I’m proud of you.
You sure you’re not disappointed in me
in not telling the Gadzooks people
to go fuck themselves?
- Of course not.
This is show business.
We’ve done worse for less.
[horn honking]
- Hey, are you guys the folks
that ordered the Here Comes the Choo-Choo?
Hope you don’t mind sitting backwards in the caboose.
- Maybe we should just say fuck the Amber Alert
and take the subway.
- They say we shouldn’t take it.
They don’t say we can’t take it. - Yeah.
I don’t know if it’s Elmer or what,
but life is too short to wait around,
whether it’s for a car that’s wearing a hat
or a boyfriend
or the perfect opportunity for you to write your own movie.
- Yeah, besides, we’re New Yorkers; we hate waiting.
- Yeah, we’re impatient and unhappy.
- By the way, in those Master Class videos,
did Kevin Spacey say anything about Robin Wright?
Specifically whether or not she keeps M&M’s
in that hole she has in her collarbone?
- Oh, yeah, she does, but she only eats them
on her cheat day. - [laughs]
- Oh, my God, it’s Pizza Rat!
[laughter]
[Belle & Sebastian’s "The Party Line"]
[driving punk rock music]
♪ ♪
MAN: ♪ How did I get here? ♪
♪ I heard a rumor ♪
♪ From your girlfriend’s sister ♪
♪ That you knew me ♪
♪ And you end up dancing close to me ♪