All language subtitles for Queer As Folk [4x09] - Episode 409

One, two, three, four, five, six,

shake it, dude.

Cue the pulse to begin

Cue the pulse to begin

Cue the pulse to begin

Cue the pulse to begin

Isn't this fun?

Maybe for you, but that's
because you are a sadistic shit!

Who? Me?

I'll never tell you
where the jewels are!

Make that "jewel".

Now lie still. Who
knows? If you're lucky,

you might even get a
few more good years,

like me!

Mr. Kinney? Mr. Kinney?

That's it for today, Mr. Kinney.

We'll see you again tomorrow.

And I should warn you:

You'll feel fine for the next few hours,

but you're going to
hit a wall around noon.

Nausea, pain, fatigue. They're
all normal side effects.

In fact, I would suggest
that for the next few days,

you just stay home, take
it easy. Don't go to work.

Huh. Thank you, nurse.

That's excellent advice.

First thing we do when we get to
Hollywood is go to Universal Studios.

The rides sound awesome.

And then we do the Grave Line tour.

It takes you to all the places
where stars have been murdered.

And then...

Then, we go to Grauman's Chinese Theatre

and we steal John Wayne�s footprints.

Lucy.

"I Love Lucy"?

They went to Hollywood and...

never mind.

Could you save me some cereal?

Aren't you being a bit premature?

Why? We're going, aren't we?

You said Brett told
you it was a done deal.

That's Mr. Keller to you. And
nothing's a done deal until it's done.

I'm done.

So, busy day?

Oh, classes, research at the
library, student advisor meetings.

I'm also supposed to hear
from Greenpoint Press.

Are they interested in your novel?

Hmm, let's just say the
editor seemed receptive,

which at least is better
than another rejection.

So keep your fingers crossed.

He should try to eat some grain in the
morning instead of those crappy shakes.

He'd be a lot happier,
not to mention regular.

I think it's going to take
more than a bowl of bran.

And you could try and be
a little more sensitive.

Huh?

"Huh?"

Ben is going through
a tough time right now.

I'm sure all this talk
isn't making it any easier.

So from now on, let's try not to use
the word "Hollywood" in a sentence.

What the fuck are you doing here?

I'm waiting for you.

You won't answer the door,

you won't return my calls.

Well, that should be a hint.

Why won't you see me?

Cynthia! Cynthia!

Jesus, Brian, what's going on?

You can't just kick me out.

Watch me. I don't want his calls,

I don't want him in this office, and if he
comes near me, I want a restraining order.

Got it?

And if some asshole named
Vic Grassi calls from hell,

you can tell him I�m in a meeting.

Well, Vic, it's not quite the
headstone I'd originally intended.

But as you may have heard,

Michelangelo�s not taking
any more commissions.

But it's solid,

it's hard, smooth.

Come to think of it,

that's a lot of the
attributes you liked in a man.

Ooh-hoo. Hoo.

Okay, whoever invents a cell
phone that's also a vibrator

is going to make a fortune.

'Scuse me, Deb?

Yeah. Don't worry, honey.

Hello?

Vic's in no hurry.

Oh, hey...

so I'll plant flowers this spring.
Make it more homey, okay?

And, um...

Vic, I just want to say,

wherever you are...

of course I know where you are, you're in
heaven. Where the hell else would you be?

...That, um,

in spite of our little falling out,

not... not that it was so little,

it nearly put me in
the ground beside you...

that I love you...

with all my heart.

You know that, baby, don't you?

Arrested?

And that I hope that you've
forgiven me for what I did.

What did you do?

D.U.I.?

Well, who's going to help
me cater the party tonight?

And all because of this silly party.

No, I will not recommend an attorney,
unless you recommend a chef.

Rest in peace...

little brother.

Rot in hell, you little fucker.

Oh, Vic. Vic, why'd you have to die?

I know, honey.

I know. But he's in a better place.

It's a warm and wonderful place,
filled with love and possibilities.

You'll have to forgive
my wife. She tends to...

wax poetic in direct proportion
to the size of my tummy.

Oh, come on. You've done your
fair share of waxing yourself.

I've never once waxed,

and even if I did,

our paltry expressions would pale in
comparison to Michael�s rhapsodizing.

Holy shit!

Would you check out
the dick on this kid?

Or not.

That's the umbilical cord.

And besides, you can't tell
from this if it's a boy or girl.

Although something tells
me a princess is on the way.

Well, it's okay with me if he's gay.

I got to run.

We're installing the Auerbach show.

Don't forget Lamaze.

You think we could move it?

Hey, why don't I go?

You?

Is it a class for lesbian mothers?

I won't shave my legs.

No one will notice.

No, of course not.

Good. Then it'll serve
as a gentle reminder that

until someone comes
up with a better plan,

you still need a man for some things.

Hey, where
have you been?

I need those panels so I can come up with
some dialogue for the evil anal probers.

How about, "Up your ass"?

Sounds about right.

Hey.

Hey! What's with you?

What do you think?

You told him that we knew, didn't you?

Look, I...

I didn't mean to. It just...

What, slipped out?

"We know you have cancer".

That is the fucking lamest
excuse I�ve ever heard.

You're the one who said that we
should be strong and honour his wishes.

I'm sorry.

Do you have any idea
how hard that's been?

Why are you sorry?

Did he kick you out?

Did he say he never
wanted to see you again?

Well, if that's the way he wants it,
I'll be glad to honour those wishes too.

Professor Bruckner.

That's me.

I'm sure you don't remember me. I was...

in your 1-10 seminar last year.

There are so many
students in that seminar.

Anthony Flynn.

I hope you enjoyed it.

Huh. It was great.

In fact, I even went out
and bought your book, "RU12".

Oh. But did you read it?

A few times, actually.

I loved it. So well written.

You know, I agree with what
the critics said on the jacket.

Oh. Send them a free
copy, they'll say anything.

No, I'D... I'd really like to
talk to you about it some time.

You see, I'm a writer
too. Well, trying to be.

As much as I�d like that, Anthony,

it's, uh, my policy not to
fraternize with my students.

Even former ones?

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to put you
in an awkward position.

No, it's okay.

It's just that your
book really spoke to me.

As a gay man, I mean.

By the time I'd finished it, I felt I'd
discovered things about myself I�d never known.

Thank you.

Flynn.

Yeah, you used to sit
about halfway back,

way over on the right by the
window with the fire escape.

That's me.

It's a simple but elegant menu;

lobster, filet mignon, salad.

And of course, dessert.

Uh-huh.

Uh-huh. No, sure, I understand.

Well, that was the last possibility.

Ah, poor Em.

I keep forgetting how important
Vic was to you too, honey.

Without him, your
business is fucked, huh?

But never fear, 'cause help is here.

Where?

You're looking at it.

I'll cancel my shift
tonight. I'll lend you a hand.

Oh, thanks. But, uh, I
need more than a hand,

I need an entire body, preferably
one belonging to a chef.

What's the matter with my cooking?

Don't take this the wrong way, but not
everything is covered in marinara sauce.

Fine.

"The October Detective"?

Hmm. It's one in a series.

Of 12?

How did you guess?

When it comes to clues, I'm quick.

For instance, I've, uh,

never known you to
read detective novels.

So?

So, I would surmise, using my

brilliant powers of deduction,

that it has something to do
with one Lieutenant Horvath.

Sorry, Sherlock.

Carl came here strictly as a friend,

and there's nothing between us.

Oh, the look in his eyes said otherwise.

What do you know about
the look in a man�s...

never mind, I take it back.

Stop living in a book

and start living your life.

Mmm, god, this chocolate
mousse is scrumptious.

Perhaps I underestimated
your culinary skills.

My chocolate mousse is
covered in marinara sauce.

This is from that sweet kid, Darren.

You know, the one who got bashed?

I sent him food every
day from the diner,

and now he's sends me goodies back.

Kind of like a thank you.

And he does it all himself.

I tell you, he can dance, he can cook.

He's a knockout in a dress.

He'd be a real catch for some lucky guy.

Em?

Em?

Where'd the fuck he go?

Brian?

Brian?

Jesus Christ, what's wrong?

Nothing.

I'm fine. Why do you ask?

Well, for one thing, you look like shit.

Thank you.

Okay, look. Now, this is the
second time this has happened.

Fucking accountants. Do you have
to keep a record of everything?

I just want you to know
that you can trust me,

as a friend, and as someone who has
been through it all. I mean, there is

nothing I haven't seen or done, which
is why I don't presume to judge anyone.

But there's one thing I know:

The first and hardest step
you'll ever have to take...

is admitting you have a problem.

And once you've done that,

you're on the road to recovery...

It's the "big C", Ted.

Cocaine?

It's bigger.

Crystal?

Bigger.

Caffeine?

It's cancer, Theodore.

C-c-c-c...

Yeah, c-c-c-c.

But relax.

They got it.

I'm in radiation.

Started this morning.

Would you excuse me for a moment?

I can't tell you how relieved I am.

I mean, that...

that you're going to be all right.

Thank you.

Is there anything I can do?

Yeah, as a matter of fact,

you can do three things.

First...

keep your big mouth shut,

or you're fired.

Sealing. Sealing.

Second?

I want you to cover
for me this afternoon

with Dandy Lube.

Wait, cover f-for you?

Make the presentation.

But I... I...

Look, if you could pretend...

that you were Pavarotti at that

pathetic pasta palace,

you can do this.

What's the third?

Call me a cab.

I'm going home.

And the part where all your
friends were turning positive...

How about over there?

Uh, fine.

But you still hadn't been infected.

Yeah, I remember feeling
terrified that I'd be next.

But at the same time...

feeling like I just
wanted to get it over with.

Then when you converted, it...

it put you in a whole different place.

Spiritually,

emotionally,

politically.

You know, I have to tell you, uh...

it was very moving.

Anthony, may I ask you
a personal question?

I feel like I already
know so much about you,

it's only fair.

Are you positive?

No.

But your book still spoke to me.

And isn't that the
measure of any great book?

That it speaks to everyone?

Oh, I don't know about that.

I mean, about it being
a great book. But thanks.

So the question is,

when's the next one coming out?

Mm, that is the question.

Just finished a novel about two men,

set in Paris in the '30s.

Sounds great.

Mm-hm, there're a couple dozen publishers
who don't agree with you. They've

all turned it down.

Well, I'd love to read it...

if you'd let me.

I don't know.

Hey, I'm an English lit major, a budding
young writer, and I work in a library.

Oh, and I got an "A" in your course.

That should qualify me to know a
little something about good writing.

At the risk of losing a fan...

or...

gaining an even bigger one.

I'd be the man in mankind

An universal he

Every door that once was
shut would open for me

If I were a man

If I were a man I'd like
to meet somebody like me

Huh. If I were a man I�d
like to meet somebody like me

Bravo!

I mean, brava!

I'm, um, Emmett Honeycutt,

I live with Debbie Novotny.

We met at the

"so what if it's not Christmas? We're
having a Christmas party anyway" party.

Right.

You are fabulous.

I just love the routines, the gowns...

the chocolate mousse.

Excuse me?

I'm a party planner.

Debbie's brother, Vic, uh, was
my chef before he passed away.

He's gone now, but our business isn�t.

And if anyone knows the show
must go on, it's you. So...

You want Shanda Leer
to perform at a party?

No. I want Darren to cook for a party.

But, uh...

I'm not a chef.

Well, you do a fabulous
impersonation of that too.

I mean, those delicacies you've been
sending over to Deb's are to die for.

No offence, Vic.

I'd love to help you out, but...

Shanda's making a comeback.

Whoo. God, I hate that word.

It's a...

return.

There's just no time.

Well, you can't blame a girl for trying.

Good luck. Uh...

break a leg.

If I were a man...

damn.

Didn't mean it literally.

Look at this. Ruined.

Do you know how much these satin
pumps in a size 11-1/2 cost?

Huh. Not to mention the
new gowns, and the hair.

Shanda may be a star, but she's
going to drive me to the poorhouse.

Honey, let's review.

You need dough,

and I need someone to stuff it
with spinach and porcini mushrooms.

Mail's here.

Since when do I get special delivery?

Since this arrived from that place
I'm not supposed to use in a sentence.

It's from Brett.

You mean Mr. Keller.

Stop staring and open the
goddamn letter, already.

Well?

It's two cheques, one made out to Justin
and one made out to me, each for...

$10,000.

10,000... oh my god!

We're rich!

Not quite.

But we will be.

Just imagine, Rage on the silver
screen. Big budget special effects.

Millions in fast-food
merchandising tie-ins.

Tom cruise pumping away
in hot, superhero man-sex.

Careful. He'll sue your ass.

Can't sue someone for dreaming.

Speaking of dreams,

this came too.

It's from Greenpoint Press.

Well, you can't open
someone else's mail.

It's a federal offence.

I can see it now.

I'm on death row, awaiting
a lethal injection.

This mass murderer who
killed 48 babies and ate them

asks me what I�m being executed for.

I say, "Opening Ben�s letter."

Still, it's not ethical.

Ethical, schmethical.

Oops. Too late.

Should I seal it back up?

Well, I suppose since
it's already open...

that's what I like, a man with values.

Well?

They think it sucks.

Shit.

Shit.

Ben's going to be so upset.

Not if he never gets it.

Gimme that.

Mmm.

Am I interrupting?

Just about to devour my Manwich.

In my neighbourhood,
that's three guys fucking.

Come on in.

Have a seat.

How you doing?

Better.

Thanks in no small part to you.

I'm glad to hear it.

I'm, um... I'm sorry you're
finishing lunch, 'cause I was

gonna take you up on your offer.

You know, step out, have a bite?

But I have to warn you,
Carl, I haven't changed much.

I've still got a big mouth and
I still speak my mind, and...

I'm still as stubborn
as a prom week pimple.

But if that's still okay with
you, then how about dinner?

Debbie...

I've been having these
dreams about lobster lately.

I'm adrift on this sea
of melted butter and...

Debbie.

What?

I've been seeing someone.

Oh.

Couple of months now.

Her name's Katharine.

Well, that's good news.

See, when I asked you if
you wanted to get a bite,

it was as friends.

I hope I didn't give you the wrong...

Oh no, no. Not at all.

Katharine.

I had an aunt named Katharine.

She was a great lady. She was
named after Katharine Hepburn.

Another great lady.

I'm very happy for you, Carl.

I truly am.

The difference between our lube
and their lube is, our lube says...

"sex."

If you, uh...

If you want to be cool,
if you want to be popular,

if you want to get laid,
this is the lube you use.

On your car, I mean.

I fail to see how

getting an oil change or having your
tires rotated can improve your sex life.

Well, see, that's where you're wrong.

I'm wrong?

Not... not wrong. I mean, uh,

no, just... not right.

What he means is that with...

a sexier, more playful new image,

you can expand Dandy
Lube's share of the market.

Yeah, that... that's
it. Just what she said.

By suggesting we have
half-naked muscle boys

offering lube-jobs in a,
uh, clothing-optional garage?

By appealing to women and gay men.

That's an interesting point, Dad.

Gays are an important
demographic these days.

Well, we're meeting with
Vangard this afternoon.

I'm sure they'll have a more,
uh, straightforward approach.

Coming, Doug?

Could you direct me to the men's room?

Down the hall to your left.

That'd be your cue.

My cue?

To nail the account.

Oh no, I couldn�t. I mean...

Well, what makes you think that he...?

Suppose he's not, and I...

Well, it never stopped Brian.

Make him proud.

Oh-h.

Your presentation was very...

interesting.

Huh. Your father
didn't seem to think so.

Dad just hears the
initial pitches and...

then it's up to me to follow through.

So, do you have anything
else you'd like to show me?

Yeah.

This.

Perfect timing.

Your drawings have just
come back from the framer�s.

Don't you like it?

I already know what my stuff looks like.

I'm far more interested in
seeing something that isn't mine.

Oh, that's nothing.

Just a minor piece by an unknown artist.

Peterson. "Figure study".

Sam, Sam. Wait.

I-I... I'm not sure
you're going to like it.

I'm not even sure I like it.

Then why'd you have it framed?

Good question.

Something wrong?

No. Nothing.

Why do you ask?

You're hyper-ventilating.

You better sit down.

Wouldn't want you to
do something girlie,

like faint.

Easy for you to say.

Sam Auerbach isn't about
to evaluate your work.

Ho-ly shit!

I knew you wouldn't like it. Don't look.

No... Would... would
you sit down and shut up?

You flatter me, my dear.

By at least a couple inches.

What about the rest of you?

Doesn't look like me.

That's what Gertrude Stein said
to Picasso about her portrait.

Know what he said?

Hmm.

"It will."

It's good. It's really good.

If I weren't me, I'd be jealous.

Oh... you were the inspiration.

You know, if you weren't a fucking
dyke, I'd ask you to marry me.

Oh, is that how it works?

You propose to any
woman who flatters you?

Generally speaking. And
with disastrous results.

Well if I weren't already
married, I might just accept.

Brian.

Brian!

Brian?

Jesus, what happened to you?

Chernobyl.

Christ, you should be in bed.

Well, I was, but...

someone kept knock, knock,
knocking at my fucking door.

What are you doing?

I'm making some chicken soup.

There's nothing in here
but beer and poppers.

All the essentials.

Well, we're going to have
to stock up on groceries.

Michael...

As long as I'm here,
I can do your laundry.

Michael!

This is exactly why I did
not want anyone to know.

It's why I told
everyone I went to Ibiza,

in the hopes that I wouldn't be
treated like an invalid, or a victim,

or like I was going to die.
Now would you get out of here!

What don't you understand
about "fuck off"?

Oh, you think you can kick me out
of here the way you did Justin?

And for what?

Trying not to let on that he knew,

because that's the way you wanted it?

He deserves to know. He's your lover.

Your partner, whether you
want to admit it or not.

And sick or not, that's a
fucking shitty way to treat him.

I was only trying to make it easier.

By never seeing him again?

He would've left sooner or later
anyway. Might as well be sooner.

What are you talking...

Would you just go home, Michael?

Go home to your wife and your kid.

Have I told you how much I love you?

Not for at least 10 minutes.

Then I'd better remind you.

Excuse me.

What a fool I�ve been.

All those Sunday afternoons
going to tea dances at Woody�s,

when I could've been going
to football games instead.

Those Iron Men are delectable.

Almost as delectable as
your cherries jubilee.

We're about to make the announcement!

Here we go.

Can we have your attention, everyone?

Drew and I have an announcement to make.

As you all know, there's
only one person who's

better at kicking balls
than I am, and that's sierra.

So after threatening to kick mine over the
goal post, I've finally agreed to marry her.

We're engaged!

Hey, drew, where'd
you get those caterers?

Looks like a couple of flamers to me.

Excuse me, Mr. Boyd.

I hope I'm not, uh, out
of place for saying this.

Actually, I don't give a fuck if I am.

Back in Hazelhurst, uh,
Mississippi, where I grew up,

I was always taught that if a real
man has something to say about someone,

he says it to his face,
not behind his back.

So even though you may be a... a star,

you know, captain of the
team, hero to millions,

you still have a lot to
learn about being a man.

Flaming cherries jubilee?

Oh, thank you.

It looks like someone's opened it.

Really?

It must've been one of the neighbours.

They're always snooping.

They rejected it.

We know!

I mean...

that totally sucks.

I'm sorry, Ben.

Well, I guess that's that.

Didn't some famous writer

like, Ernest Hemingway or Stephen King

send their book to 24 publishers
before someone finally accepted it?

This was the 25th.

Still, you're a wonderful writer,

and you have a million
stories inside you.

And that's why I got you
something to help you tell them.

What's that?

It's called a computer.

You said you needed a new one.

I didn't realize you could
afford something this extravagant.

It was me. I paid for it.
I've been moonlighting.

Shut up.

I got a cheque today from...

Hollywood.

So you read my mail,

figured you'd better do
something to cheer me up,

and went out and bought me a computer?

That's pretty much
the plot in a nutshell.

Well I don't want your
consolation prize or your pity.

Ben.

So, uh...

does this mean I get the computer?

Nice to see you back on the job.

As Liberty Avenue's leading fag-hag?

Accept no substitutes.

Cosmo, please.

So how was your party?

Did Darren work out?

Ah, kid's got quite a range.

Kitsch to kitchen.

As for me, it was my usual
triumph, except for the host.

Some macho asshole,
plays for the Iron Men.

Halfback...

quarterback...

thirdback.

Yeah, straight guys, you can keep 'em.

No thanks.

Although there is a certain detective
I�d hold onto, if I were you.

Refill, please.

Did you hear what I said?

Just when you hand them
your heart, they go and...

drop-kick it.

Hidden in the football
metaphor is a secret clue. Uh...

I suspect to another woman?

Hmm. Damn, you're good.

It's like Oliver Marconi all over again.

He was a sweet boy.

Lived next door to us
when I was growing up.

And he had a huge crush on me.

Of course, I didn't know he was alive
until he and his family moved away.

Then I started aching for him.

But it was too late.

It's funny, I...

I still hold a piece
of my heart for him.

Same as I do for Carl.

So he's dating.

So what?

Doesn't mean anything.

Hell, dating in this
place just means you

sucked some guy's dick
and went out for coffee.

Well, unless there's something
he's not telling me...

this chick ain't got a dick.

And it's more than a cuppa Joe.

He's gone, em.

I lost him.

Beautiful.

Excellent.

What about you?

Why aren't you breathing?

Me?

This is a team effort.

Your rhythm helps
maintain her rhythm. Mmm?

Right.

My rhythm?

Who does she think I am, B.B. King?

She probably thinks you're my husband and
we're this cute married couple, like them.

I'd say we're cuter.

Wouldn't she be surprised
to know the truth?

Maybe not.

Maybe she'd just think, "How
sweet," or, "Isn't that interesting?"

Better yet, maybe she
wouldn't care at all.

I think it's amazing,
how far we've come.

You and Ben, me and Lindsay.

I'd say we're fucking lucky
to have such stable home lives,

wonderful mates whom
we love and who love us,

one beautiful child and
another one on the way.

Bright futures all around.

Bright futures all around.

Hey.

I was just at Lamaze class with Mel.

I came for the cheque.

Oh, right.

I was going to drop it off.

Thanks.

Hey, wait up.

What for?

I saw Brian last night.

Lucky you.

He looked like shit.

Felt so bad, he could
hardly get out of bed.

I'm sorry to hear that, but it
really doesn't concern me any more.

That's bullshit.

He fucking kicked me out.

He said he didn't want to see me again.

More like, he doesn't
want you to see him.

You've read the Kinney operating manual.

He thinks now that he's sick,

that he's no longer perfect, that
you won't love him any more...

that you're going to leave him.

That's crazy, even for him.

Not if you put all your eggs
in one basket, so to speak.

He... when...

when being young, being beautiful, being
Brian Kinney is what it's all about;

you take that away, he
figures, what's he got?

That needs to go over there,

and I think we need a
larger piece for that space.

Hey, kids, let's put on a show.

What are you doing here?

I didn't want you seeing
anything until it's finished.

Ah, I'm sure it'll be just ducky.

"Ducky"?

This may be small potatoes to you,

considering you've had shows at every
major gallery and museum all over the world.

But to us yokels here in
Pittsburgh, this is a big deal.

Did I say anything?

I just want everything to be perfect.

Do right by you and your work.

You will, kiddo. You're world-class.

I am?

In fact, reminds me of my
last retrospective in Venice.

Couldn't find a fucking
ashtray there either.

Heads up!

Oh. That was a close call.

It wasn't that bad.

Then why are you shaking?

Writing?

Preparing a lecture.

How about I order a pizza?

Uh, not hungry.

How about you handcuff me to the bed...

Michael. Can't you see I'm working?

Yes, now that you mention it, I can.

I can also see the new computer
I got you, sitting alone,

ignored, like some
geeky guy at the prom.

Jesus.

Look, I know what you've
been going through.

Believe it or not, I've had more
than my fair share of rejections.

Like by practically every club, every
college, every job I ever went out for.

But you're being accepted
now. That's all that counts.

But I just don't want you to blame
me, or make me feel like it's my fault.

Sorry if I did that.

I have no one to credit
for my failure but myself.

Which is why I've...

decided to re-evaluate my goals.

Um, re-focus my energy and...

stop writing.

At least for a while. I...

I feel I should start concentrating
my efforts on what I do best,

which is to teach.

It's where my skills are, it's
where my life is leading me.

Ben...

Ooh, I... in fact, I...

got to go to my office.

Now?

I left some reference
books I need for my lecture.

And a pile of term papers.

Well, when will you be back?

Don't know.

I'm sure you can return
it and get your money back.

Is sierra in?

She's off with her girlfriends,
seeing some chick flick.

Oh. Well, I stopped by to pick
up a cheque and my equipment.

Yeah, she left you a cheque. Come in.

Well?

Here you go.

Thanks.

I'll just get my equipment and...

how about a beer?

I'm not supposed to be
drinking, but you know,

I'm in pretty good shape.

Wouldn't you say?

I'd say one beer is not
going to ruin that six-pack.

Oh, that's last week's game.

Coach makes us watch ourselves.

Which one are you?

Number seven.

Very graceful.

In a rugged, manly way.

You know, there's something
I've always wanted to ask.

Why the tight pants?

So there's nothing to grab
onto if you're tackled.

And why are you always
patting each other's asses?

Just friendly encouragement.

You know, I don't see much difference in
how you play your game on Sunday afternoons

and how I play my game
on Saturday nights.

Here.

Catch.

Ohmygod!

Did you see that?

I caught it.

Never caught a ball in my life.

Oof!

You okay?

This also isn't much different
than my Saturday nights.

You have A...

a very nice body.

You think so?

Strong, uh...

hard.

Feel my bicep.

Go on.

Now feel this.

What about sierra?

She thinks I have a nice body too.

I was working late and
figured you might be too.

So I took a chance and stopped by.

Well, you figured right.

Except, as you can see, I'M...

a little busy doing
research for this lecture.

Then I won't keep you.

I just wanted to tell
you I read your book.

Already? That was fast.

It's like I missed the last 36 hours.

I was so enthralled,
I couldn't put it down.

That's a first. Most people
could barely pick it up.

What the fuck do they know?

I'd like to think not much.

Exactly.

Thank you, Anthony.

No. Uh...

thank you, for...

entrusting me with it.

When you have a spare moment,
maybe we can go for coffee again.

Discuss it.

Right.

Anthony.

Actually, I have a moment now.

Bri? Dandy Lube just called.

We got 'em.

Way to go, Theodore.

Yeah. I told you you could do it.

Yeah.

It was a little dicey
at first, but, uh...

Yeah, I managed to convince them.

How'd you do that?

Just thought to myself,

"What would Brian Kinney do?"

After that, it was a snap.

You know, you don't look
so hot. Why don't you...

why don't you let me, uh, mind
the shop and you go home? Hmm?

I thought I told you to get out.

I guess I didn't hear.

You tend to mumble a lot.

You want some soup?

It's Debbie�s home-made recipe.

Well, no wonder I feel like barfing.

Listen to me, you little shit:

I don't want you here.

I don't care what you want.

You're not getting rid of me.

Shit. Are you all right?

Tell me you're...

I'm all right!

You're not all right.

Then what the hell
are you asking me for?

So that I can tell you what a
motherfucking piece of shit you are

for not telling me, for shutting me out,

for thinking that you could
handle this on your own,

and most of all, for thinking that I
would leave you. Why would you think that?

Because you had a ball removed?

Because you're no longer perfect?

Well, believe me, Mr. Kinney,

that is the least of your imperfections.

And if I'd wanted to leave you, I've
had better reasons. Plenty of them.

Maybe you should have.

Yeah, maybe you're right.

But I thought we had a commitment.

And I plan to stand by it.

I want you to get your ass
back in bed, you son of a bitch.

And eat some fucking chicken soup.

Moo!