Kids, on New Year's Day 2012,
Uncle Marshall took a trip
to Minnesota
to see someone he truly missed.
Hey, Pop.
I can't believe
it's been a year.
I think the most appropriate way
to honor your memory today...
is to get blasted
and watch the Vikings
make the Bears
their furry little bitches.
Go, Vikes!
Shh.
Sorry for your loss.
Which is what
we'll be saying to the Bears
in about three hours,
right, Pop?
Kids, tailgating
at the Vikings-Bears game
was a tradition
for Uncle Marshall and his dad.
That's how
the government
covered up the UFO crash
in Roswell:
by canning the sliced up
alien carcasses
and calling it Spam.
AKA sliced processed alien meat.
Wow.
Is there anything
you don't know, Dad?
No.
I know most stuff.
And in your honor...
three decades of pork fat,
lighter fluid and Bengay.
Dear God, that's the stuff.
So much to catch you up on.
So, last night
was New Year's Eve.
That's a crazy story.
So you haven't told your dad
that you're pregnant yet?
No. But why should I?
My dad has never
been there for me.
This is just another chance
for him to let me down.
Lily, you have to tell him.
He's at some board game
convention in Chicago.
He's your dad.
I don't see why people
aren't getting this.
Shoplifter
does not promote crime.
It celebrates it.
Excuse me.
Yeah.
Hey, Dad.
I'm, uh, calling with
some pretty big news.
I'm pregnant.
Great. Thanks.
Anyway, Dad, Ted and Barney's
New Year's Eve
wasn't off
to a great start, either.
Hey. Whoa, whoa, whoa,
whoa. It's 50 bucks,
and the line
starts out there.
Uh, we're regulars.
Oh, in that case,
the line starts out there,
and it's 50 bucks.
You got a problem
with that?
Kids, here's why we didn't have
a problem with that.
And he was even scarier
without the toupee.
No problem.
It's a little drafty.
We'll get you
a nice hot cocoa.
Check it out.
Sandy Rivers'
New Year's Eve show.
Thank God
I don't have to produce
this frozen pile
of poo.
How'd you dodge
that bullet?
Well, maybe Tina,
the producer, he, uh, picked,
is more talented
than I am...
at lying down while Sandy
does his business on her.
Does it bother you
that this pervert's
on the air,
and you're not anymore?
Do you miss it?
What? Why would...
why would I miss it?
No. I would rather
be warm and cozy
here in denial... my apartment.
Robin,
I'm no therapist...
wait, yes, I am...
but I've got a New Year's
resolution for you.
Get back on camera.
Mine was going to be "make
a sex tape," so... two birds.
Hold that thought.
Hello?
Sandy?
Tina quit.
The woman I love just quit.
Love?
She's my everything, Robin.
My sun, my stars, my oxygen.
Plus, she likes it
fast and dirty,
and that's how Sandy rides.
I need you here ASAP:
Are you kidding me?
Marcus?
What the heck
are you doing here?
What the heck are you
doing here?
I wanted to see Dad today...
in private.
Well, I had the same idea,
and I drove all the way
from Mom's, so get lost.
I flew here, so you get lost.
Um, I'm trying to have
a poignant moment
with our departed father,
turd face.
Well, I'm trying
to feel Dad's spirit
flow through my soul,
butt breath.
I'm reaching out to the beyond
to touch Dad's inner light,
ass clown.
I hear Dad's voice
like an ethereal song
guiding me toward salvation,
douche nozzle.
Dibs on Dad.
Dibs on Dad
times infinity.
Oh!
Ooh.
I'll just pretend
like you're not here.
What?
Dad, do you hear something?
Perhaps the high-pitched whine
of someone who wet their bed
until they were 11!
Ten.
Anyway, Dad, since it's just
the two of us...
Lily and I
were going to spend New Year's
unpacking the baby room.
Um, sweetie, why
is this book in here?
That's Enigmas of The Mystical.
It's all about
mysterious
and unexplained phenomena.
Don't you remember the TV
commercials from the '80s?
June 17th, 1983.
Tempe, Arizona.
A woman makes
a chicken salad sandwich.
Chicken salad sandwich.
Halfway across the country
in Michigan,
her daughter
is compelled to make
almost exactly
the same sandwich.
Tuna salad.
Coincidence?
Or an enigma of the mystical!
Yeah, those enigmas
always seemed a bit thin to me.
Thin?
Lily, this is 200 pages
of detailed accounts
about Bigfoot, ghosts,
aliens abducting people from
their beds and probing them.
I'm going to read it
to Baby Eriksen
at night-night.
You really want
to read our kid
bedtime stories about monsters?
First of all,
I wouldn't use the "M" word.
Only they can call
themselves that.
And secondly,
are you really saying
you don't want to raise
our child as a believer?
I don't want
to brainwash our child
to believe in something
with no proof.
It's not about proof;
it's about faith.
Faith is what gives life
shape and meaning.
I mean, if there aren't yetis
or leprechauns,
what's the point of even
getting up in the morning?
I don't know.
Wife, unborn child,
drop a deuce?
Lily, don't you think
it's a bit narcissistic
not to allow for something
bigger than us out there?
Something whose
beauty and power
and majesty humbles us?
God?
Werewolves.
So, as the countdown
to 212 continues,
a quick warning, America:
Tina Henderson
is a soulless bitch
who will stomp on your heart.
I need you back, Tina.
I love you.
Well, if that's as bad
as it gets, we might be okay.
Bathroom break.
Oh, good.
It's on the Jumbotron.
Oh, finally.
Yeah, that'll be
100 bucks each.
What? You said 50.
That was before
the place got crowded.
Okay? It's
New Year's Eve.
People get rowdy
and break stuff.
The cover protects us.
Plus, you get these
festive hats.
For an additional
15 bucks.
They're wet.
Dry ones are 20.
That's it.
Don't bother,
everybody.
MacLaren's is a rip-off!
You'd all be better off
coming upstairs
to my place for a beer.
Hey, dude. You serious?
Ted, do you remember
a couple years ago,
we had the best idea
of all time?
We should buy a bar.
Of course! We should buy a bar!
The name of
our bar?
Puzzles.
People will be like,
"Why is it called Puzzles?"
That's the puzzle.
A bar where no
one's overcharged,
where everyone feels
valued and respected.
A bar...
where we get chicks drunk
and bang them.
We're opening
Puzzles tonight.
Of course we're opening
Puzzles tonight!
Aren't you going to ask us
why it's called Puzzles?
Nope.
Okay.
Okay, we're back
live in 30 seconds.
Where's Sandy?
I don't know.
Uh, let's see if he's
still wearing his mic.
Taxi, take me to Tina's house.
50 West 67th.
Sir, this is a falafel stand,
and you're sitting
in the hummus.
Okay.
Run the montage of people who
died this year until I get back.
And add Sandy,
because when I find him,
I'm going to kill him.
Anyway, Dad...
Stop hogging Dad already.
I've got stuff
to tell him, too.
Like what?
You're still living with Mom,
and you have no job.
Go ahead.
So, anyway...
July 8, 1972.
Cheyenne, Wyoming.
A hunter spots
a hairy form in the forest.
Bigfoot.
His story
is dismissed
because, to be honest,
he'd been drinking
and had a history
of mental problems.
But was it a hoax?
Or was it an enigma of the...
It was an idiot
in a gorilla suit.
Enigma.
Gorilla suit.
Enigma!
Gorilla suit!
Marshall? Marcus?
What are you guys doing here?
Having a private
moment with Dad.
No, I'm having
a private moment with Dad.
No, I'm having
a private moment with Dad.
Touchdown, Vikings!
Boom! Yeah!
Anyway, Dad,
since it's still
just the two of us,
I'll go on.
I've always envisioned Puzzles
as a literary salon,
where Gotham's intelligentsia
hold court
on art, philosophy
and literature.
Great.
And while you're distracting
the nerds and fatties,
I'll be in the VIP room
getting it in.
Uh, yeah, dude,
I don't know
where you got a velvet rope,
but you can't
use my room
for anonymous sex.
I'm kind of a neat freak
that way.
Hey, guys, I have an idea
for Puzzles.
What if... What?
Puzzles is kind of
our thing, so...
Kind of a shared vision.
Oh. Okay. I understand.
But hey, we like
your energy.
How would you like
to be our star bartender?
I've always wanted
to be a bartender.
It's just like
being a therapist.
You listen to people's problems,
pretend to care,
but you can drink openly
instead of having to hide
your booze in a coffee mug.
Great. Oh,
and check it out.
We worked out
a theme song for Puzzles.
While I was carrying
100-pound kegs
up four flights of stairs?
Awesome.
No, we're not.
Bro!
Not gonna happen.
We'll talk about it.
I'll go get
the other kegs.
Probably a good idea.
We got to work out
some harmonies.
Excuse me, sir?
About the TVs,
we're in the middle
of burying my aunt, so...
Oh, I'm sorry.
We'll keep it down.
No, I just want
to check out the score.
Actually, I'm trying to have
a private moment
with my dad, so...
Oh.
It's just that I used
to go to Vikes' games
with my aunt;
may she rest in peace.
Anyway, so back
to my story.
She also loved burgers.
So now,
back to my story.
Aunt Laura sure loved
a toasted bun.
Tina, please tell me
Sandy's here.
Don't worry, he's here.
And we're back...
together!
He told me he loves me,
he's sorry,
and I'm the only girl for him.
You know, since we're all here,
and we're all horny...
I don't know
what went wrong.
Well, proposing the
three-way was bad,
starting without us
was worse,
finishing in the hallway was
the nail in the coffin.
No! Stop drinking!
I gotta get you
back on air!
But I'm single and
ready to mingle!
Hello, there.
Oh, the Twitter-verse
is blowing up about
a new apartment-themed bar
called Puzzles.
Why is it called
Puzzles?
That's the puzzle!
Anyway, this VIP room
has a maximum occupancy
of two people including me,
so eeny...
and the rest
of you may go.
It's funny,
but it seems each time
I read James Joyce's Ulysses,
it's a different book,
begging the question:
Has the book changed...
or have I?
Okay, people are getting rowdy
and drunk and breaking things.
I know this goes against
the Puzzles mission statement
you made me memorize, but we
gotta raise our drink prices.
All right, just a little bit
so no one will notice.
Boo!
Poodles sucks!
And that's when the night
turned to absolute crap.
What-what do, what do,
what do we do?
And so Puzzles got a bouncer,
All right, you know what,
you guys?
No. No, no, no, no, no,
you said double
what MacLaren's
was paying me.
And why isn't anyone wearing
the hats I brought up?
"November 14th...
"1982.
"Everglades National Park,
Florida.
"Five mysterious lights dance
in the night sky.
"A ray shoots down,
lifting the park ranger,
"who, to be fair, was going
through a bad divorce
and had a habit of lying
to get attention."
I hate this job, Sandy!
I went into journalism
to make a difference,
but you have made
that impossible.
You know, to be honest,
it hasn't been
an easy couple months for me.
I've made mistakes.
I've felt alone.
I had to let go of dreams
I didn't even know I had.
So here's the deal:
You're gonna get
back on air
and count us
into a better year,
because I just can't do
2011 anymore. You with me?
He's not with me, is he?
Anyway, Dad, where was I?
You know what?
Fine, get out of here!
We don't need ya!
And why doesn't anybody
like these hats?
I made these hats.
It's because
they're wet, Doug.
Why are they all wet?
Were those our last customers?
Let me go check
the bathroom.
You must be
from the escort service.
The scenario is high school
wrestling match.
Hello?
So get this:
I lost Sandy Rivers.
Funny you should mention that.
It's almost midnight!
What am I gonna do,
go on the air myself?
Listen... Wait. Yeah, do that!
No, I-I can't actually.
Yes, you can. It's what you
really want and you deserve it.
Kevin, that's not how it works.
Sounds like that's
your only choice.
New York's a big city.
Sandy Rivers
could be anywhere.
And... wrestle!
Hey.
I'm sorry, baby.
I just...
I want our kid
to believe that the
universe is magical.
You know, like
my dad taught me.
You know what
my dad taught me?
Nothing...
'cause he was never there.
"June 22nd, 1996,
Brooklyn, New York.
"A man misses his daughter's
high school graduation.
"Later, she discovers
her babysitting money
"has been spent on
a board game called
Who Stole The
Babysitting Money?"
He never saw
the irony in that.
"December 31st, 2011.
"A woman calls her father
to tell him she's pregnant.
He says, 'Great. Thanks,'
and hangs up on her."
And after pushing
her to call him,
a Big Foot is discovered
in her husband's mouth.
I'm glad you're
a believer, baby,
but I'm never gonna believe
in an "enigma of the mystical"
unless I see it
with my own eyes.
Because the truth is,
my father never taught me
believe in anything but myself.
Well, if it helps at all,
I believe in you, too.
Then there's a pretty
good chance I don't exist.
How dare you?
Oh, my God!
This is Robin Scherbatsky
filling in for Sandy Rivers.
You know, America,
tonight I've been groped,
stepped in puke
and until ten minutes ago,
had no idea I would be
on national television.
That's my girl.
But that's the magic
of New Year's.
When that clock
strikes midnight,
we all get a fresh start.
And I don't know about you,
but I could really use one.
And that magic moment
starts in ten...
nine...
That night became a turning
point in Robin's career.
But we'll get to that.
They're nice hats, Doug.
They're wet...
but they're nice.
three, two, one.
And that's the story
of New Year's Eve.
You know, I've been thinking
that the reason I got so intense
with Lily
about Enigmas of the Mystical
is that, well...
Could you pass the pickles?
with you gone, I feel
the mystical a little less.
Can you hand me the chips?
Sometimes
I feel you a little less.
That's why today was
so important because I just...
I needed to...
Did you just open a beer
on my father's headstone?
Actually, it's a hard cider.
And just as he was about
to lose it...
Hey, Marvin, can you
pass me a burger?
Hey, not Marvin. Marshall.
Sorry, it's just,
you're so much like your pop.
Your Uncle Marshall
thought back
to all those tailgates
with his father.
Hey, mind if I grab one?
The more the merrier!
All right.
it's coming soon...
And he realized that maybe
private moments are overrated.
You know what?
The more the merrier.
Hey, guys.
Happy New Year.
January 1st, 2012,
East Meadow, New York.
A woman answers her door to
find something more enigmatic
and mysterious than Bigfoot
or the Loch Ness Monster.
Dad?
Hey.
I thought you were in Chicago.
I was.
Great. Thanks.
My daughter's having a baby!
Did you drive all night?
Yeah.
Well, Teddy and I
split the drive.
This guy's a maniac
behind the wheel.
Congrats, Princess.
Happy New Year, Dad.