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1 Life... it's literally all we have.

But is it any good?

I'm a reviewer, but I don't review

food, books, or movies.

I review life itself.

Viva the revolution!

Agh!

☯Synced & Corrected by Seppuku17☯ ❃www.MY-SUBS.com❃

Welcome to Review. I'm Forrest MacNeil.

With me as always is A.J. Gibbs.

- Hi, A.J. - Hi, Forrest.

Okay, what's my next review?

Okay.

This comes from Clark at Topco Industries.

I've worked at my job for nine years, but I hate my new boss.

I just want to quit in his big, fat, stupid face.

What would that feel like?

Also, blur this if you use my question.

Aha. Clark, you'd like to know

what it feels like to quit a job in a blaze of glory,

and that is just what I will do. Here I go.

I began my experience by writing the most epic

take-this-job-and-shove-it speech I could imagine.

This is so hard.

What do you say to a boss that you hate, you know?

You're the biggest jag-off I've ever worked for,

you nickel-and-dime chicken[Bleep],

and I hope this place burns to the ground with you in it.

That's great.

I was now ready to deliver

my bitter farewell.

You realize that if you quit your job at Review,

that means you'll no longer be able to issue

a review for quitting your job.

Right. Grant was right.

With a bit of help from our H.R. department,

I went to a local business and took a customer-service job

- in order to quit it. - All right.

Hey, Forrest.

Just a little gift to say welcome aboard.

How's your first day going?

You know, Ron, when I started here,

I believed in what we were doing.

But now I'm not so sure.

But there is one thing I know.

You're the biggest jag-off I've ever worked for,

and I hope this place burns to the ground with you in it

because that's exactly what you deserve,

you nickel-and-dime chicken[Bleep] mother[Bleep]!

You call yourself a manager?

You couldn't manage a ham sandwich!

I am walking out that door...

And I won't come back,

not even if you beg me.

Who's with me?

Well, I had a job, and I quit it with a fantastic speech,

but something wasn't taking hold for this review.

It wasn't my real job.

At no point did I even understand

what work was expected of me.

So I took the next job I found...

serving coffee in the lobby of an office building,

the kind of job anyone could master and despise in no time.

Morning.

My boss was an incredibly old man named Willy,

with a struggling business and a long list of infirmities.

I wasn't really looking to hire someone.

Not even sure I could afford to, honestly.

I just can't take standing all day.

And my co-worker was Wendell, who was dedicated,

meticulously organized, and, incidentally, autistic.

He likes to make sure the spoons are all facing the same way.

Oh, yeah, he's good on inventory.

- Yeah. - There's 47 napkins, 58 cups.

There were 59, but Pam from the third floor had decaf.

Working alongside Willy and Wendell began to make me

feel like I was part of a family again.

They inspired me to make this business

as successful as it could be.

You know, Willy, there's no reason this couldn't be

a lot more profitable.

What do you mean?

One, two, three.

Open your eyes!

Welcome to Lobby Java.

I had taken the liberty of bringing Willy's coffee cart

into the modern age,

complete with fair-trade, organic coffee

and gourmet pastries,

as well as the exorbitant price markups

that go along with them.

- Wendell, you seem overwhelmed. - It's fine.

But there's something I need you to focus on right now.

I need to know how many pastries are in this case.

- Can you do that for me? - Sure.

In no time at all, Willy's was transformed into a sensation.

The buzz spread quicker than the smile across my face

when I arrived to work each morning.

How many cappuccinos can I get for you?

- Just the one, please. - Okay.

$3.50. Thank you.

There were no two ways about it... I loved my job,

to the point where I began to forget

that it wasn't my real job.

Excuse me.

Oh, we're not open yet, sir... oh, Grant.

- Hi. - Hey.

Do you have a second to talk?

- Uh... - Just for a sec?

- Yes. - Yeah.

- How's the show going? - Well...

What do you mean by that?

'Cause we're waiting for you to quit this job.

Oh, yeah.

Quit this job?

That's why you took this job in the first place.

I was thinking of... maybe I would cut down my hours

once I get things up to speed,

'cause I have a number of different...

well, you're reviewing quitting.

- Viewers need this. - Yeah.

America needs this, and the world needs this.

Six minutes until the pastries arrive, Mr. Forrest.

Do we understand each other or what?

Forrest, get out here. I want to show you something.

Take a look at this. "Lobby Java by Forrest."

Uh, Willy...

I'm really sorry. Uh...

You know, when I first started here,

I believed in what we were doing.

Now I'm not so sure.

What?

But there is, uh, one thing I know.

You're the biggest jag-off I've ever worked for.

- Forrest... - And I hope this place...

ugh...

burns to the ground with you in it,

because that is exactly what you deserve,

you nickel-and-dime chicken[Bleep] mother[Bleep].

Oh, boy.

You call yourself a manager?

You couldn't manage a ham sandwich!

Okay, I am leaving here,

and I am never coming back,

not if you beg me!

Who's with me?

- I am! - Oh.

If Mr. Forrest goes, I go!

Oh, God.

You couldn't manage a ham sandwich!

Since we spend so much time at our jobs,

our co-workers can become like a second family,

and our workplace like a second home.

As exhilarating a rush as it is

to tell off an authority figure,

when you quit your job,

you're leaving behind much more than just a paycheck.

Quitting your job... two stars.

All right, A.J., what life experience shall I review next?

Okay.

An email from Gloria in Nashville, Tennessee.

She says...

Wow.

That's a great one and a profound one.

I know what I would do if it was my last day on earth.

- Yeah? - I would adopt a baby.

Yeah, well, you...

you might want to give that a little more thought.

But I don't know what I would do at all

on my last day.

I guess I'm going to find out.

To live this day as if it were my last

required a sense of reckless abandon.

Oh, [Bleep]!

Oh, mother[Bleep]! Oh, God!

I decided to have "carpe diem,"

Latin for "seize the day," tattooed on my body.

[Bleep] This! What is the matter with you?

Well, I still got to charge you

for the letters I put on you.

I would not get the full carpe diem,

but I would get...

Ca.

Ca, yeah.

Ca!

I'm really living!

Hey, bring us some more nachos, okay?

With extra cheese. Oh, hell, it's my last day.

Just bring us a bowl of cheese!

Hey, let me ask you something.

If this were your last day on earth,

I mean, if there were no repercussions beyond today,

you could just go for it, what would you do?

- Well, I-I-I guess I... - No, no, no, you know what?

Don't tell me.

Just do it.

Okay.

Excuse me.

Does anybody want to leave,

go back to my place, and [Bleep] right now?

No.

- Where are you... - Oh, my God!

That is fantastic! That's the thing

to do on your last day.

Well done.

Oh... oh, no. Oh, no.

Hey, everybody!

Who... who wants to go [Bleep] me and Mr. MacNeil right now?

Yes!

Oh!

Undeterred by the lack of women

interested in having sex with us,

Josh and I enjoyed a more dependable form of machismo.

- Come on, shoot it! - Bottle of champagne,

you messed with the wrong man!

Come on!

Oh, come on.

Is there something wrong with my... the way I'm standing?

- What's going on? - You're just not hitting it.

How about this?

- Say hello to my little friend! - Yeah!

Come on!

- Come on! - Come on!

Oh, you pissed off the wrong guy!

[Bleep]! Ca!

Ca!

Oh!

- Oh, cool. - That went a long way.

That was good.

To life. Mmm.

To life.

There is so much I will miss.

Now let's go get some whores.

Ah!

While relapsing on cocaine with prostitutes

is one of the worst things a man can ever do,

regrettably on my last day, it seemed like a reasonable choice.

Oh, [Bleep].

Cops.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah! - Oh, oh, oh.

Go, go, go, go, go!

Go, go, go, go, go!

Nobody move!

Come here! Come here! Come here!

No, no, no. Okay, okay, okay!

- Get down! - Okay, okay, okay!

Josh!

Run, Mr. MacNeil, it's your last day!

Come here!

You've been a wonderful unpaid employee!

Thank you! I've learned a lot from you,

about myself and about the business!

Ugh! Ow!

The setbacks and curveballs of life were nothing to me now.

Ca!

They had no power to hurt me

because I didn't fear what might happen to me next.

But as dusk descended upon me for the last time,

I began to feel the incredible sadness

of leaving everything and everyone behind.

Also, the cocaine was wearing off.

Why?

Oh, my God, where are your clothes?

My clothes are at a whorehouse.

Ugh. Okay, Forrest.

Wait, wait, wait.

I'm here to say good-bye forever.

What do you mean?

It's my last day.

So I just wanted to thank you

for everything that you've done for me and...

To really live this day as if it were my last,

I needed the people around me to believe that it was too.

Wait. Are... are you sick?

But lying seemed out of bounds.

Oh, my God. You have a brain tumor.

I don't know why I didn't think about this before.

This totally makes sense.

Alicia's Uncle had one, and she said

it pushed on part of his brain.

It made him act crazy.

That's why you've been such a lunatic.

Cocaine is amazing!

Oh, God, I'm gonna die!

Arr, arr, arr!

Stinkiest of poops that I've had...

my clothes are at a whorehouse.

The human brain.

I am so sorry.

Is there anything you want to do?

You just say the word.

That's the day we were married.

- Happiest day of my life. - Oh.

And this was... how old was he here?

Do you remember?

- 2 1/2, I think. - 2 1/2?

We've had some good games of bananagrams in this family.

Living this day as if it were my last was incredible.

Suzanne had taken me back.

Had true love prevailed, or was it just

her mistaken belief that I had a medical excuse

for months of bizarre behavior and would soon be dead?

Whatever it was, at long last we were happy again.

Can you do anything, or does it hurt too much?

Oh. No, I can do stuff.

- Mm. - Mm.

You know, we get so caught up in our day-to-day struggles

that we can be blind to the real treasures of life.

Living each day like it's your last just makes that impossible.

That was the best day of my life.

Five stars.

I can't wait for my last day on earth.

Yeah. It was fun.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

A.J., do we have time for one last review?

- Let's go for it. - Yes.

Clap4kim@yahoo.Com asks...

Oh, my goodness.

Well, she wants to know what it's like to be Irish.

Not sure how I'm gonna do that. I'm only half Irish.

It sounds like someone's about to get hammered again.

Uh, well, now, A.J.,

I think an Irish person would be very offended by that,

but they would also admit

that it's absolutely true. Ha ha.

Well, I'm off to become Irish!

Hey, herlihy, I told you about eating the grass.

You see what I did to him over there?

Shaughnessy kicked me in the face, and I stole his pants,

and now he looks ridiculous, doesn't he?

All right.

Thanks to me wife's mistaken belief that I was dying

of brain cancer, I was now back in me home.

Forrest, what are... what are you doing?

Oh, I'm making a sweater, love.

Would you ever bring me my knitting needles?

Oh, um, I will in just one second.

You know what? Why don't we put down the shears,

and you have a little lie-down.

Well, I have worked awfully hard.

Yeah, and I'll make you some of that

O'Neill's blood pudding

that you bought for dinner tonight.

Oh, listen, mcginty is a house sheep.

I hope you're all right with that.

Is he? Okay.

I felt sincerely guilty about returning to me family

under false pretenses, but we were all enjoying

the luck of the Irish too much to let the truth

stand in the way.

Hey, put that fork down, young fella.

- We haven't said grace yet. - Oh.

In the name of the father and the son and the holy spirit.

What?

Your father's saying grace, Eric.

Get with it, come on.

Put your hands together, young man.

Dear lord in heaven,

we thank ye humbly

for this bread that we're about to receive,

and we thank you so much for making us Irish.

Please never strike us blind or give us consumption.

Is this part of the brain tumor?

- Yes, it is. - Oh.

Thank you, lord.

- Amen. - Amen.

- Amen. - Thank you, Forrest.

Who'll have some blood sausage?

Whoo-hoo!

♪ Oh, he twisted his whiskers and said with a grin ♪

♪ Don't make me mad, I'll let myself in ♪

♪ And I said to the mouse

Stay out of my house!

I was having a marvelous time living life as an irishman

with me family at home

and with me new Irish family down at the pub.

It was the kind of day that makes a man feel

that nothing could ever go wrong.

Yeah! Ah!

That's great.

I might do a little bit of a jig...

oh, look who's here, me wild Irish rose.

- I spoke to your doctor. - Ah.

You don't have a brain tumor.

Um, well...

We Irish are known for our blarney, are we not?

Your son thinks you're dying.

Uh...

This... this is for the show, isn't it?

- Is that what it is? - Um...

Um, you know I can't tell you, right?

I can't tell you what's for the show. I'm not allowed...

okay, I need to know how much of what you've been doing

- is for the show. - I can't tell you that.

Did you get addicted to cocaine for the show?

Sweetheart...

did you get my dad killed in space for the show?

Oh, my God. Did you divorce me for the show?

Everything I do, I do for Ireland!

Ireland!

Okay, listen, I know you get passionate about things,

and you lose yourself in them. I love that about you, okay?

But if there's any way we are ever going to be a family again,

you need to put limits on what you do for the show.

Our family has to come first, Forrest.

Darling, the family always comes first.

- Don't even doubt it... - okay, would you just stop?

Stop doing the voice.

'Tis true, me brogue is thick...

- Stop it. - But I mean what I say.

I need you to stop the voice.

Um, it's a bit of a puzzler.

You're not gonna stop. All right.

- No, I mean, I... - okay, this is done.

- I can't stop it... sweetheart. - This is done. I'm sorry.

I just... I can't do this anymore, okay?

We're done.

And, yeah, just so you know, everybody,

this man is from Wisconsin!

Uh, come on. Don't... now, love...

- love, love, come on. - Just get out of my face!

- All right, all right. - No, Forrest, stop!

Sweetheart, don't... ah.

Hmm.

Mm.

That was great. We got it.

Terrific.

Do you want to wrap, or do you want to punch anybody out?

That's pretty Irish.

Did you see what just happened with my wife?

Your ex-wife is a nut job.

What?

Look, the Irish suffer. It's in their blood, okay?

It's tradition.

- And you know what else? - Hmm?

You're the one who told me about the guy

who waited and waited and waited and waited

until a little bit of fungus turned into penicillin.

- Mm. - And this Irish sequence

is very close to becoming penicillin...

- Thanks to you. - Is that all you have to say?

Well, those were your words, and I think they say a lot.

You know, Grant, when I started here,

I believed in what we were doing,

but now I'm not so sure.

But there's one thing I do know.

You're the biggest jag-off I've ever worked for,

and I hope this place burns to the ground with you in it,

'cause that's exactly what you deserve,

you nickel-and-dime chicken[Bleep] mother[Bleep]!

You call yourself a producer?

You couldn't produce a ham sandwich!

Now I am walking out that door,

and I am never coming back,

not if you beg me! I quit!

Yeah!

And one more thing!

Oh!

Catch him. Don't let him get away!

Forrest. Don't let him get away. Do you have him?

Suzanne.

Suzanne.

Suzanne.

Okay.

Weirdly enough. Forrest has actually not been seen by anyone here

at the show since that night.

So, it seems like he really did quit, for real.

Which is obviously, very unprofessional.

Being Irish however seemed like a ton of fun.

So, I'm gonna go ahead and give that the ol' five stars.

☯Synced & Corrected by Seppuku17☯ ❃www.MY-SUBS.com❃