- Madison Square Garden,
please welcome to the stage Deborah Vance!
- Hi.
- Make me laugh, bitch.
- You honky-ass ho!
- We want our money back.
- You're not funny.
- Boo!
Oh! Oh.
Oh. Oh.
I'm a DSA member! - God.
- Jesus. What— - What's happening?
Are you okay? - No, there's nobody here!
- What's going on? You okay?
- Uh, yeah, I think so.
Ugh. Oh.
Why do you have a bat?
- I thought the proletariat was rising up
and giving you what you deserved,
and I was gonna decide what side I was on when I got here.
- No, it was a dream. It was a nightmare.
I was onstage. - Wait.
I thought we weren't allowed to talk about our dreams.
- No, there's a rule that you're not allowed
to talk about your dreams.
- Okay. - So there I was.
I was at Madison Square Garden. I was on the stage.
I looked down. I am completely naked.
I-I look out in the audience, and everyone—
everyone is my sister.
And she kind of laughs.
And then my teeth started falling out.
I couldn't—
- Okay, that's clearly an anxiety dream.
You're just stressed about the Garden.
It's okay. We just need to keep working on the material.
- On the outfit, I know. - Your outfit?
No, I said material. - I know.
I need to start picking out fabrics.
I got to talk to my stylist.
I mean, that's why I was naked, you know,
although I looked incredible.
Okay, yeah. Whew. All right.
I'm gonna call my stylist and put together some looks.
All right. Good night.
Jesus Christ.
Okay, do you have any Klonopin up here?
My heart is racing like a jackrabbit.
- Incredible.
Okay.
- Oh, fuck! Fuck!
Ugh!
Who the fuck taught you how to drive?
What the fuck?
Ow, fuck!
My boba.
Ugh.
Oh, shit.
Ow, ow, ow.
Sorry. - Hello?
- Hey, can you come pick me up?
I'm at the Urgent Care in Diamond Point.
- You okay?
- Yeah, I'm fine. It's just a hairline fracture.
I got hit by one of those self-driving cars.
You know, we never got to vote on that.
They just started showing up. I would have voted no.
Anyway, they, um—
they asked if I could, uh, have someone pick me up
in case I take the Vicodin they gave me,
which I definitely already did, so...
- Oh, honey, I can't. I-I'm...
I'm—I'm at Miraval, in Arizona.
In fact, I'm in a towel.
I'm about to step into the sauna.
- What?
- Yeah, we're trying to poach their spa director
for the new casino.
So, you know, Damien and I made a quick trip.
- Oh, okay.
All right, never mind.
- Hey, I could send DJ.
But just a warning— she might take a while.
You know, she's only comfortable making right turns.
- It's okay. It's okay.
I'm getting another call. I'll figure it out. Okay, bye.
Merrill Markoe? What is up?
- Are you in LA?
- No. Uh, why?
- I just saw Deborah run a red light
in Beverly Hills about two minutes ago,
and I was hoping maybe you were here.
- Well, uh, D-Deborah's not in Beverly Hills.
I literally just talked to her. She's in Arizona, so...
- That was definitely her—
blonde beehive hairdo,
Rolls Royce with a Diva plate. - Huh.
- Listen, remember the last time I saw you,
I loaned you my umbrella?
Would you send it to me? But only DHL.
I don't know what is going on
with the post office at this point.
And don't get me started on FedEx.
- Copy that. No problem. I'll send it your way.
Well, it's nice to hear from you.
You good? - Not really.
Bye.
- Okay.
Good morning. - Oh, hi.
Oh, how's your arm? - Oh, it's fine.
Uh, how was Miraval?
- Oh!
Orgasmic. - Really? Did you end up—
- Deborah, Diana is here. - Oh, good. Good.
Send her in. - Your psychic?
- No, no. I had to bring in the big guns
to help me decide what to wear at MSG.
My stylists were a flop-a-rino.
- Deb.
Di. Oh!
- Look at you. You look like a million bucks.
Hey, Red.
- Thank you so much for coming.
- We're gonna get you a nice outfit, okay?
Aha! The Six of Cups.
We are going into the past, Deb.
- Vintage!
Oh, I've been thinking new. It should be old.
- Oh.
- I'm getting a vision.
- Here she goes.
- You're wearing white, Deb.
And you look like an angel.
- White dress, okay.
- Nope. Slacks.
- And sparkles up the wazoo.
- Oh, my God.
Does it have a white chiffon beaded top?
- Yes! - Oh, my God.
That—that is Carol Burnett's look from her final show!
This is perfect!
I mean, not only is it a piece of comedy history,
I'll be referencing one of my heroes!
- Is it this? - That's it!
- Eccolo! That is the exact thing I saw.
Yes, yes! God, I'm good!
- So you want me to track it down?
- No, no need.
All of Carol's looks were designed by Bob Mackie.
- Chic.
- Call Bob M!
- Hello? - Bobby, it's Deb.
Sorry for the cold call.
I mean, you know how I'm doing the Garden later this year?
- Uh-huh. - Yeah, I need a jumpsuit.
- Deb, if I do something for you,
I got to do something for Cher.
Then the next thing you know,
Sabrina Carpenter is outside my door
with a sewing machine and a gun.
- I don't need a new design.
Do you remember Carol's white look
from her final episode?
- Of course. I had it for years.
But I donated it to a charity auction.
- Do you remember who won it?
- It was actually one of your fellow stand-up comics,
but I shouldn't say who.
- Rosie O'Donnell? - No.
- Rita Rudner? - No.
- Kelly Kilpatrick?
- Mm, I couldn't say.
Oh, yeah, I heard—
- Kelly fucking Kilpatrick!
That stupid bitch hates me.
I've never known why.
- Um, you were pretty mean to her
after she came out at the VMAs.
I believe the exact quote was,
"She should go back into the closet
and pick something else."
- Okay, fine.
Just, you know, that's probably where the weird energy started.
I'll just have to win her over.
Damien!
Book my apology booth at Spago's!
- Oh, by the way, I had a client who paid me in salami.
Do you guys want some?
I think it's pretty good. It smells good.
- Hey, should we have mimosas and be bad?
- What do you want, Deb?
- I just wanted to— to—to clear the air.
- From when you called my daytime show
"Oprah for racists"?
- I didn't say that. - Oh, you did.
You also said, Kelly's show was like
if the L-word stood for "lame."
- Well, what I should've said was,
you're like if the L-word stood for "lovely."
- Uh-huh.
So...
you're doing the Garden. - Yeah. Yeah.
- I hope they have enough wheelchair ramps for your fans.
- Or just cut out the middleman,
live stream it directly into hospices.
Oh, Kelly, you...
You—you still got it.
- Deborah.
So sorry to interrupt.
I'm a huge fan.
Uh, but someone left their phone in the car again.
- I thought it was in my bag.
Sorry. Kelly, this is Ava.
Ava, Kelly. - Hi. Nice to meet you.
I'm sure you get this all the time,
but when you guest-starred as Lieutenant Levandra Pax
on "Star Trek: The Next Generation,"
it was, like, the first time
I actually saw myself on screen.
- Well, that's not the first time I've heard that,
but I-I thank you.
Uh!
Oh, my God, Deborah, is that coffee?
- It's decaf. - Is it?
- No.
- You know if you have caffeine this late, you won't sleep.
And if you don't sleep...
- I don't sleep.
She has been having the worst nightmares.
And then I wake up, and I can't get back to sleep.
And I get the night sweats anyway,
but I've never been able to sleep completely nude,
'cause, you know, pajama pants give me a really bad rash—
- Honey, honey.
We're about to eat. - Oh, sorry.
Really nice to meet you.
- What? - I should've known.
I am so sorry.
- That's okay.
For—for?
- No wonder you've been so bitter
and frustrated and jealous all these years.
It is so obvious.
- What's so obvious? - That you're gay.
- I'm...
Gay.
- Oh, Deb, I am so sorry that I didn't realize sooner.
And you know what? That's on me.
'Cause it must've been so hard for you,
watching me live my truth out and proud.
But, look, if you don't want to talk about it here, I get it.
- Right.
- Hey, what are you doing this weekend?
- I-I-I-I don't know. Um, why?
- Well, why don't you come up to our place in Montecito
for the weekend and we'll catch up?
Huh? We'll really talk.
And bring your girlfriend. She is adorable.
- Oh.
We're there.
Hey, let's get those mimosas. - Yeah.
I need one.
- By the way, who the wife? - Her name is Monica.
She's younger.
Uh, you'd think she was a gold digger,
but, no, apparently, she has family money.
- Tight. - Wonder Bread.
- Oh. Cha-ching.
Is that Damien again? - Yeah.
- Okay, I'm not trying to be annoying,
but I feel like you're hiding something from me.
- I don't know what you're talking about.
You're being paranoid.
- Okay, well, Merrill Markoe said she saw you
in Beverly Hills when you told me you were at Miraval, so...
- Well, Merrill is confused.
And I'm not being dishonest. - Okay.
- Oh, by the way,
Kelly Kilpatrick thinks I'm gay and you're my secret wife,
so we have to spend the weekend pretending to be lesbian lovers
so I can get that Carol Burnett jumpsuit.
- What?
- Welcome, girls.
Who's ready for a naughty little weekend?
- Me!
Come.
And this is the living room. - Oh.
Wow, Kelly. This is absolutely beautiful.
- It's stunning. - Oh, thanks.
Hi. Hi.
Oh, gosh.
Hi. Oh. - Hi.
- Welcome, lovebirds.
We're so excited to have you girls staying with us.
- Deb, Ava, this is my muse, my treasure,
and thanks to the Ontario government, since 2013...
- 2013. - My wife.
- Deborah, come here.
- Oh, Deborah, enchanté.
- Merci.
- Cashmere—it's so nice.
And you must be Ava.
- Guilty. - Hi.
- Hey.
Wow. You smell so good— and, uh, beautiful posture.
- Oh, thank you.
Once a ballerina, always a ballerina.
- Wow.
- Darren Aronofsky dedicated "Black Swan" to me.
- Oh, wow. - Eh, that was messy.
- I'll bet.
- Well, let me—let me show you to your room.
This way. - Okay.
- I know it's a hike, but it's worth it.
- Sure.
- The cream room. - It's lovely.
- Well, good. You enjoy yourselves, girls.
- Thanks, Kelly.
- And if you need anything, just holler.
- Thank you. - Absolutely.
- Mm-hmm.
- Deborah, this is fucking insane.
I am not pretending to be a lesbian couple with you.
- I need that jumpsuit. Please, it means a lot to me.
- I guess it wouldn't be too bad to spend
some time with the wife.
Call me Chandler, 'cause I want to fuck Monica.
You're my girlfriend.
Do not flirt with her and blow up my spot.
You and I are in a committed, loving relationship.
You're sleeping in the tub.
- I am not sleeping in the tub, okay?
You know what?
If you want me to do this, you got to give me $1,000.
Yeah.
Oh, fuck, I should've asked for more.
Sorry.
Forgot to say Negronis at 6:00.
- Ah. Thank you.
Give me an extra $500.
- Get in the tub. - Fuckin' A.
- Oh, it's so nice having drinkers over.
Nobody really parties anymore.
- Mm-mm. - It's true.
It's true. It's so sad.
We celebrate our friends' sobriety,
but we also mourn it.
Here.
Oh.
You poor thing. What happened?
Sports injury? I love jocks.
- Ah, she dated Dean Cain at Princeton.
- Well, this one was daydreaming and got hit
by one of those self-driving cars.
- Oh, no. - Really?
- I was looking for a girl whose looks stopped traffic.
Instead, I got one that gets plowed over by it.
- You'll have to forgive Deborah.
She's always a little grumpy
when this hand is out of commission.
- Oh.
- Well, you know, if you need help
with anything this weekend...
- Yeah, I can—I can think of a few things.
- Ava. - Watch out, Deb.
Monica likes redheads.
- Did you know that redheads actually need more anesthesia—
- Kelly, that blazer is fabulous.
Is it vintage? - Yeah.
You know, Merv Griffin actually used to own this.
- No. - I had it tailored, of course.
But I think it's got a kicky vibe.
- Kelly has a whole walk-in
for her vintage Hollywood collection.
- Really? I would love a tour.
- Well, maybe we'll do that after dinner.
But how did you two meet? - Oh.
- Oh, that's a boring story. - Is it?
- So— - I disagree, my love.
I'll tell it.
So we were actually set up by our mutual friend Jimmy,
who just knew we would hit it off.
And, uh, we actually met for the first time
at Deborah's house, because, obviously,
we needed to keep it very hush-hush, very discreet.
And, uh, yeah, she hated me—
Doc Martens, no makeup,
always talking about transit and public housing.
And, you know, we just kind of went
back and forth, back and forth.
The connection was undeniable.
But I think our—our spark is in our fighting.
We bicker.
It comes into play in the bedroom a lot, too, as well.
Isn't that right, Deb?
Anyway, we were fighting like dogs, and I just left.
I up and left.
And, uh, she came chasing after me.
I was halfway down her driveway in my car,
and she cut me off in her Rolls-Royce
and insisted that I stay, and so I did.
I mean, how could I refuse? - Ooh, hot.
- We've been together ever since.
Doesn't it just feel like yesterday, Deb?
- Yeah, sweetie.
Sometimes it feels like 100 years.
- Aw.
- Give me a kiss, baby. - Mm.
Oh, someone's shy.
- Oh, come on. Come on. - Come on!
- Shy!
- You weren't so shy on the car ride up.
- Come on.
- Ooh!
- That's my girl. - I love it!
- Yeah.
- We're really happy.
Oh! - What are you doing in here?
- Just, uh—I was just looking for a bathroom.
- Uh, there is an en suite in your bedroom.
- Yeah, I just, you know, want to keep the spark alive.
- Well...
I couldn't imagine the spark ever going out with you.
You know, Kelly and I, um...
we're open.
- That's p-powerful information.
- Are you and Deborah?
- Are me and Deborah in an open relationship?
We are not.
I have to say no.
- But that pause...
It tells me you want to be.
- I will say that I'm attracted to other women.
- I like that.
But let's circle back on that.
Do you want to see our chicken coop?
- Is—is that a euphemism? - No, it's a real coop.
- Oh, sure. Yeah, I would love to.
Yeah. - Okay.
Come on.
- Oh, my God.
Kelly, t-this is— this is incredible.
It's—it's like a life's work.
- I know.
Debbie Reynolds almost outbid me
on the Vitameatavegamin dress, but I am vicious with a paddle.
- Oh, what is this little white number?
Doesn't—doesn't look familiar.
- It's from Carol's last show.
- Of course. Oh.
It's cute.
I mean, I-I would take it off your hands,
you know, if you wanted to sell it.
- Yeah, right.
The really undervalued piece
is Bette Midler's dress from Carson's last show.
I know you're gonna want to see that.
- No. I-I mean, sure, yeah.
But this little white number, we—
- Come on, Deb, keep up. A lot more to see.
- Hey, Damien, how are you?
- Is it an emergency?
You've called me, like, ten times.
- No, no emergency.
I was just wondering, um, yeah,
how—how did the trip to Miraval with Deborah go?
- We haven't gone yet. That's next week.
- So she wasn't there last Tuesday?
She is lying to me.
God, I thought we were past this.
- Okay, I refuse to get involved in whatever this is.
By the way, where are you guys?
- We're in, uh, Montecito, at Kelly Kilpatrick's mansion.
We're pretending to be a couple
so we can swindle her out of an old jumpsuit.
It's actually really gorgeous out here. I mean—
Damien?
He's gone.
- You think ChapStick lesbian is butcher than soft butch?
- Yes! - Oh, God.
These kids, they love their little categories.
I mean, back in our days, it was just butch or femme.
- Or big lesbos.
I-I'm kidding. I'm sorry.
I mean, labels are stupid,
unless, of course, it's Pucci!
- Thank you so much. - Oh, no, she's had enough.
She's had— - Oh, have I, dear?
- Yes. - I think I'm fine. Thank you.
- Oh, Kelly showed me her collection.
She has this gorgeous jumpsuit that Carol wore.
I think we're about the same size.
- Oh, let's not talk about that collection.
She's always talking about that collection.
Let's talk about something fun.
I don't know.
Deborah...
do you strap?
- Um, strap?
- Oh, leave my pillow princess alone.
- No! - Really?
- Oh. - Yeah.
- Really? - Deb.
- Interesting.
- I'm particular about my pillows, yes.
I'm a Cortina soft down kind of girl.
- What—
- She's joking.
Obviously, Deborah knows that a pillow princess
is someone who only likes to receive pleasure during sex.
- That is not true. No, no, I-I do plenty in bed...
- Oh. - You know, lesbionically.
No, no, this is the lazy one.
- Oh, yeah. I'm the lazy one.
No, you're right. She does love eating my ass.
- I'm always looking behind me, going,
quit chowing down on that thing!
It ain't groceries!
- Tell me more. - Oh, yeah.
We've been doing shibari.
That's rope play. - Yeah.
- So she'll kind of tie me up, hang me
from the damn ceiling like a chandelier.
We know Sia.
- Mm.
Coming through.
- Thank you.
- Come dance with me.
- Look at our girls.
- Deborah.
Come on. - Huh? No.
- Come and dance with me. - No.
- Come on, Deborah. - No.
Oh, my God, she's limber. - I'm coming to get you.
- I'll be a good little kitty cat.
- Come on, Deb. - Oh, okay. Ah!
- Meow. - Oh, okay.
- Yeah, come on. - Okay, okay, okay.
Okay, okay.
- Whoo!
Let's see those moves. - Oh...
Deborah Vance, you little petunia.
- Such good hips.
- Oh, thank you.
Oh, gosh.
Hey...
shall we hot tub?
- I-I think it's getting a little too late for that.
I mean—And, sweetie, you said you were getting tired.
- No, actually. - Ava.
- No. I'm feeling really awake. - You said—
- Yeah, I would love to hot tub.
- Well, unfortunately, I forgot to pack my suit.
- So did I.
- Come on, Deb.
We're all dykes here.
- Oh, the stars are gorgeous tonight!
- Breathtaking, isn't it?
- It really is.
- Deb, I've been impressed with you.
Your special, the free-speech crusade
you got going, standing up against Bob Lipka—
now, you really grew a pair.
And when I read you spent a night in jail,
I did a spit take.
- Oh, yeah. How was jail?
- You know, as a lesbian, it wasn't so bad.
A lot of tough ladies
working out all day long.
When I was there, I thought, oh, I got to save this
for the old spank bank.
So what's everybody's first celebrity crush?
Mine—Lola Bunny from "Space Jam."
I was beatin' my meat hard to that girl every night.
- God.
- Good night.
What the hell is wrong with you?
- Excuse me?
- You have been way out of line all night!
- What? You should be thanking me.
I was saving your straight ass.
- Don't you dare bring up A-S-S after you said I eat it!
- You will not turn this around on me.
You brought me here under false pretenses,
which isn't surprising, 'cause I know you were lying.
I have confirmation
that you were in Beverly Hills last week.
- What, are you tracking me?
- I actually wasn't, but that's not the point.
I thought we were finally being honest with each other.
- Well, we're clearly not, since you're secretly spying
on my whereabouts!
- Okay, fine. Whatever.
I'm going straight to tub. - Good, fine. Sleep tight.
Oh, fuck.
Mm.
Oh.
Sorry.
- I love a midnight snack.
- And we have these amazing strawberries
and crème fraîche— do you want one?
- Uh-huh.
- Oh, good.
Open up.
- Mmm.
- Kelly and I just got in a fight.
- Same with me and Deborah.
- It's so hard...
to be with these dominant women who always get their way.
Tell me about it.
- Wow, look at us...
Two trophy wives.
Do you ever wonder...
if late at night,
when they're all alone on the shelf...
those trophies get to playing with each other?
- Like "Toy Story"?
- Exactly like "Toy Story."
- Oh.
I was just getting a water.
Good night.
- How dare you cheat on me?
- I am not cheating on you,
because we are not in a relationship!
It's a lie, which is your specialty!
- Well, if you fuck that nympho trophy wife
and Kelly finds out, I will never get that jumpsuit!
- That's not true,
because Kelly and Monica are open!
- Well, we are monogamous!
- What? - That's what works for me!
- Is everything all right in here?
- Oh, everything's fine.
- Ava...
Are you okay?
You know, when you're in a relationship
with an older, more powerful woman,
it's hard to find your voice.
- She is my voice.
- Deborah, calm down.
Ava, sweetheart, how'd you really break your arm?
A driverless car with no witnesses—
it—it seems convenient. - Oh, my God!
I never hit her! - Well...
- Well, I didn't this time!
- I'm just gonna say it,
because I don't think Ava feels safe saying it.
But, Deborah, Ava wants to be
ethically non-monogamous with you.
- No, she doesn't. - Well, yes, I do.
But that's not what this is about.
- All right. So, Ava, what is this about?
- Well, I'm upset because Deborah is clearly
keeping something from me, and it hurts my feelings
that she cannot be honest with me.
- Yeah, well, everything hurts your feelings.
- Yeah, hurtful things hurt my feelings, Deborah.
Sue me. - I have!
- Okay! Okay.
Monica and I have done a lot of couples,
and right now... - So much.
- You two are in the red zone.
So let's all take a breath, let's get some sleep,
and maybe revisit this
when your nervous systems have regulated.
Okay?
- Sure.
Sorry. - Okay.
Ava?
Okay.
Good night.
- I hate when we go to bed angry.
- Good morning.
- Hi.
- You a coffee person? - Oh, yeah.
- Please help yourself. Oh, I'm sorry.
- Oh, no. It's okay. - Oh, you got it.
How'd you sleep?
- Uh, not so well.
Sorry about last night.
- Mind if I'm candid?
- Please.
- Well, it seems to me that Deborah
has probably betrayed you in the past,
and maybe the truth is
that you're just not fully over it.
- [sighs, chuckles]
- And I-I think that maybe
you might be trying to heal that betrayal
by oversharing...
incredibly intimate,
graphic details about your relationship
and demanding to know everything
about Deborah's life.
- Yeah, you might be right.
- Well, sometimes oversharing is a means of forcing intimacy
'cause—'cause you're afraid the other person
will withhold it from you.
- Yeah, I mean, I guess I do share too much.
I don't know. I just wish that...
she wouldn't keep so many walls up after all this time.
- The people we love oftentimes
are fundamentally different than us.
And for someone like Deborah,
letting her guard down,
that gives her the opposite feeling of safety.
It's just different strokes, you know?
- Yeah.
That makes a lot of sense.
- And once you accept this about her,
you're both gonna have much deeper,
much more intense orgasms together.
- Hope so!
Here's to it!
- Thanks, Kelly. - Anytime, babe.
- Hey.
- Hi.
- Coffee? - Thanks.
So, listen, I-I wasn't fully honest with you.
- No, no, I-I shouldn't expect you
to share every aspect of your life with me.
I'm sorry I pushed. - No. No, it's okay. It's okay.
You were right. I wasn't at Miraval.
I-I-I was in Beverly Hills...
having a-a medical procedure.
They found a mass, and I had it removed.
- Oh, my God. - No. No, I'm fine.
- My mom did the exact same thing.
She had a kidney removed, and she didn't tell me.
Why do people do that?
- Because of reactions like this.
Trust me. I'm—I'm fine.
But I knew you'd worry.
So, look, here's the...
here's the doctor's email.
- This is your white blood cell count now?
- Yes, totally in normal range.
- Cholesterol's a little high.
- So is everybody's.
Trust me, I'm fine.
- Are you sure?
- Yes.
Okay, well, thanks for telling me.
- I-I-I just don't...
like talking about everything all the time, like you do.
- Yeah, well, I should probably keep some things to myself.
- And I should probably be more forthcoming...
starting with telling Monica and Kelly the truth.
- So we're breaking up?
- Yeah.
Well, I, uh...
hope we can still be friends
and live together and work together
and have complicated, intermingled lives.
- Hey. - Hi.
- Morning. - Good morning.
Good morning. Good morning.
- Hi. Uh...
it's, uh—
I need to come clean with you two.
- Oh, well, of course.
We're—we're open to, you know, whatever you have to say.
- Of course. - The truth is...
- I'm not a lesbian.
I-I-I've been lying this whole time
to endear myself to Kelly so that I could talk her
into parting with the Carol Burnett jumpsuit...
So that I could wear it when I play the Garden...
Because my psychic told me I had to.
- Oh, my God.
- Wow.
- Anyway, I-I am so sorry I lied.
- Wow.
- I respect your culture.
- Deb, after a full weekend of watching you and Ava,
I think it is pretty obvious that you're in a relationship.
- It's just so sad that you cannot live your full truth.
- Let's get at least one thing out of the closet this weekend.
You can have the fucking jumpsuit.
- Oh.
- But I'm not gonna play this game with you.
Follow me upstairs to the closet.
Get it and out.
- Yes, ma'am—Ms.
Mm.
- So sad.
Oh, it makes me feel sick.
- You know, uh, we had a-a lovely time,
and, um, now that you know that I'm not in a relationship,
my email is MrAvaDaniels@gmail.com—
- Out! - I'm sorry.
- Go! - Thanks.
- God, they're tragic. - Ugh.
- At the end of the day,
I'm rooting for 'em.
- My hopeless romantic.
I love you.
Mwah.
Honey, let's adopt another disabled dog.
- Oh, baby. - Please!
- You know there's pads everywhere.
- Please. - And you got to put
the things on the back legs. - I know.
I'm gonna put a pad on you. - And then—don't.
Don't do that. - I'm gonna put a pad on you.
- You know I hate my puddin' ass.
Quit it. Quit it.
- Well, that was easy.
That was completely insane.
- You know, regardless of you being straight,
we would never work as a couple.
- Oh, absolutely not.
I'm out of your league. - You're out of my league.
Hey, guess what.
- What?
- I stole their fancy cookies.
- Those aren't fancy.
Those are Tate's. They sell them everywhere.
- What are you talking about? They taste fancy.
- That's just 'cause they're thin.
- That's what makes them fancy.
- Oh, come on, you're getting crumbs everywhere!
- These are so good, but they need milk.
Can we stop for milk? - What are you, 9?
- So, um...
should I tell Damien and Josefina that we hooked up,
or do you want to tell— - What?
We did not hook up! - That was first night.
- Never happened. Jesus!