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>> Walter, Walter, you're not listening to me.

No, no, we need the book.

The book you're supposed to have been writing.

You know, the one about vigilante hookers, our big Christmas book.

Now, where the hell is it, Walter?

What?

What?

You found what?

In the beginning was the word.

I really don't think Jesus is going to

mind if you write one more lousy book.

Yeah, yeah, well bless you two.

Toby.

Walter's gone insane.

Here, call Dibby's office right now.

Cancel my ten o'clock with him.

Come on.

The word "please" is difficult for you, isn't it?

Is it something that happened as a child?

Toby.

It's too late.

He's on his way down.

Shit.

Hey, this is your lucky day.

It just so happens that I am writing a book.

Lint, the skin on pudding, gum diseased, Jane Seymour.

What is this?

"7,000 Things I Hate" by Toby Paddleby.

Hell of a stocking stuffer, huh?

This woman wouldn't know a major emotion if she tripped over it.

I don't know that it quite serves the needs of the

holiday market, but that's a very interesting idea.

And I think you should keep working on that.

You bet.

Thanks.

You've been very condescending.

All right, Dibby.

It's... consider this.

Everybody comes out with a big Christmas book, right?

I mean, the market's flooded.

So I say... Now stick with me here, because this is kind of radical.

I say we skip Christmas all together and go straight to Easter.

Now, granted Easter's not traditionally a gift-giving holiday.

You don't have a book, do you, Marty?

Not at the moment, no.

But... good. Good?

Yeah. A little idea of my own.

I was hoping you'd be free to bring it to Blossom.

You bet. Absolutely.

Shoot.

I've always felt that to have a really big holiday bestseller, you've got to

do something universal.

Something that touches everyone.

Are you following me here?

Universal touches everyone.

Yeah, that's why I want to do a book about... death.

Death?

I think I put that right on top of my Christmas shopping list.

Dream with me, Marty.

I'm dreaming.

And we find someone who's dying.

Someone who's got something terminal, like

cancer, Lou Gehrig's disease, whatever.

And we get them to write a memoir of their last days on the planet.

See? Sort of a... countdown to death.

Come on.

Come on. Tell me you're kidding.

Kidding?

Oh, they'll be weeping around the Christmas tree.

Oh, the guy's to be dead by Christmas?

Yeah, ideally, yeah.

Well, there's your title.

I'll be dead by Christmas.

And that's good thinking, Marty.

I knew you'd catch the breeze of this.

Ah, see, what would be clever... right...

is dying... of... sprained ankle...

Acromegalia cramps. Acromegalia.

AIDS?

No.

No, givey.

Not AIDS.

Why not? It's hot. It's now.

It's got sex. It's got drugs. Everyone's getting it.

If I didn't hate you so thoroughly, I'd pity you.

You and all the other Nazis.

Givey.

No, I'm sure you mean well.

No, but this is the sickest fucking thing I've heard in my entire life.

Right.

Very well.

Just get Buddy to do it.

Buddy? I mean, that's even worse.

I mean, Buddy doesn't even do books, you know?

He does sports calendars. I mean, come on.

Well, you see, that's why I came to you first, Marty.

You're the most sensitive man I know.

Well... You're almost a woman.

Hey.

Right. Now you've convinced me you're the only one for the job.

Unless you've got a better idea for a Christmas book.

Ah.

Ho, ho, ho, ho.

Merry Christmas, little kitties.

(

It's open!

I can't believe you're so disgusting.

Hello?

It's not so bad.

It is so bad, yes.

It's not so bad, no.

No pipes are bad. Get good pipes.

Am I making too much of this?

I mean, how do you feel about inanimate objects screaming in your home?

I imagine I'd find it disturbing, yes.

Thank you.

Still waiting for the pot. I talked to God.

No, no, I've been waiting for eight months.

I won't give you any more.

I talked to God.

Get a real plumber.

I get him an exorcist.

God, just fix it.

We're actually very close.

Peter Brewer?

Unfortunately.

I'm Martin Tupper.

Yeah.

So, you were incredibly vague on the phone.

What's this about?

This.

Well, you were recommended to me by your agent.

Really?

You spoke to Robert?

Yeah.

Huh.

Well, say hello for me next time you talk to him.

Asshole hasn't returned my calls in three months.

[chuckles]

Anyway.

I, uh... I'm a very big fan of your work.

My work.

Tell me what of my work you actually liked.

Well, I thought Thunder Ranch was a terrific book.

Oh, yeah.

Uh, I wrote that in a weekend.

At the beach.

I had house guests writing different chapters.

It was sort of a party game.

Yeah, well, you know what I mean.

It wasn't Proust, but... But you thought it was terrific. That's great.

I've got 50 pages of a new one just like it.

And I mean, just like it.

Actually, we were thinking of a different kind of book.

Not a Western?

No, no.

Definitely not a Western.

Come on, say it.

Let's get this thing out of the open.

Say it.

Do you think I could have some water?

Please.

Sure, sure.

So how far from Western are we talking here?

I can do Bad Jackie Collins.

Or second-rate Sidney Sheldon.

Well, this would be more nonfiction.

You know, sort of autobiographical.

Mm-hmm.

Well, there's no turning back now.

We're interested in doing a book about... This.

About your situation.

My situation.

What?

That I'm one of six children?

That I play the harmonica?

That I have a screaming toilet?

This would be your medical situation.

My former agent had no right telling you that.

No, no, probably not.

But, um... See, this would be sort of a journal, you know?

I mean, all your thoughts and your feelings...

And my primary qualification here would

be that my T-cell count was below 200?

No, no, no.

I wouldn't put it that way. Exactly.

Uh, how would you put it?

Exactly.

I think if done well, this book could be very informative.

Sort of a how-to book.

How to make your relatives uncomfortable.

How to watch old friends die.

I'm sorry.

This was a terrible idea, and, uh... I'm sorry for taking up your time.

I'll do the book.

You will?

It's expensive being sick.

Oh, and by the way, if you want water next time, you might want to bring

your own glass.

How can you be so ignorant?

Well, it's a little easy.

Earwax. Cheese with things in it.

Uruguay.

Uruguay.

How can you hate Uruguay? I mean, you'd have even been to Uruguay.

I don't know. There's just something about it that pisses me off.

So how's your book coming?

Good. Good.

Peter and I are starting this afternoon.

Oh, yeah? And you don't feel like... What's a word worse than vulture?

No. No, I don't feel that way at all.

Peter agreed to it, and let me tell you something.

This book is going to be very powerful because it's going to be done very,

very sensitively.

Marty, got a great idea for your dead guy book.

We give away a condom with every copy.

Very sensitive.

Yeah, I got us a deal on a shipment from Korea.

I don't know if they work or not, but,

hey, we're selling books, not condoms.

The sooner you hang them, the cleaner the world will be.

Why don't we wait till there's actually a book before we decide how we're

going to, you know, promote it?

Give it some thought, though, won't you?

Yeah, the last thing I need is to get

stuck with a boatload of leaky rubbers.

Hi. Martin? Peter? Hi. I'm Peter Brewer.

Hi. Pleased to meet you. Toby Petalby.

My assistant. And this is our publisher. Give me a fist, Peter. Hi.

We are so excited about your book.

Are we?

Uh...

I'm glad we could all meet like this.

Peter, we're right in here.

Marty, Marty.

He seems like a nice fella.

He looks a bit robust, doesn't he?

Are you sure he's sick?

I'm sure.

That's otherwise the law for beyond us, wouldn't it?

Yes, sir.

I've got work to do.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay. I thought we could start by talking about a prologue, right?

Where you discussed how you got the... You know, how you contracted the...

The thing I contracted.

Right. Yeah, right.

Well, I believe I contracted the thing from a Haitian hemophiliac dentist

who got a bad blood transfusion from an IV drug user.

All right.

Or maybe I just fucked some guy who had it.

Ah!

But that's just a maybe. I mean, if you'd rather, we can go with the Haitian

dentist thing.

Okay. Uh... Look.

Why don't we just hold off on a prologue?

And, uh... Would you feel more comfortable if we did this over a drink?

Let's go.

[♪♪♪]

Oh, yeah? I feel much more comfortable now. Thank you.

You'll get yours too.

Tonight, we return to the gay nineties.

Hey, Howard.

Peter.

I'll have a club soda.

Just a beer.

And we're gonna need another bowl of peanuts.

I don't think my friend will eat from mine.

That's fine.

You stopped.

Why don't you give me a break? Why do you

have to make everything so goddamn hard?

You came to me.

You wanted to know about my life. Well, welcome to my life.

And this is the fun part.

Later on, we'll get to the night sweats and the vomiting and the occasional

incontinence.

I can't talk to you.

This is hard for you.

You asked me to write my own fucking obituary and this is hard for you?

Then don't do the book.

I wanna do the book. I have to do the book.

Yeah, so? So? What's your fucking problem?

What if I can't do it?

This isn't Thunder Ranch or Hoofs of Fury.

This is important.

And if I fuck up, I don't get another chance.

Well, then, you know, don't fuck up.

That's it?

That's your sage editorial advice? Don't fuck up.

It's your book.

I'll do whatever I can to help you.

We're doomed.

We're doomed.

You should pull.

Not since I was eight. Now. Good.

A dollar a ball.

The least you can do is give it a try.

All right.

Martin! You got it, though!

I'm up to 4,356 things and I'm totally blocked.

I can't think of anything. Cut as cheese.

I don't like it, but I don't hate it.

Hello, Terby. My little fire plug.

I'm back in business.

Gibby, Gibby. Did you read Peter's pages?

Aren't they terrific?

Yeah, well, the writing isn't bad, but Martin, it's so depressing.

Gibby, it's about a man with a terminal illness.

Yeah, well, that doesn't mean it has to be so sad, does it?

Can't you goose it up a little bit?

Goose it up?

Yeah, pull up the heartstrings a little more.

That little Ryan White, he was adorable.

And the woman with the dentist, she was... A woman? Work with me, Marty.

Now, what if this Peter fellow has a friend who's a baseball player?

And right before he dies, the friend wins the big game for him.

Gibby, he doesn't have a friend who's a baseball player.

All right. All right.

What if he adopts a young child and

teaches him the true meaning of Christmas?

Do you know how many ways I could kill you?

No. No, Gibby, no. You wanted the story of a man's life.

Well, this is the story of a man's life, and it's poignant, it's compelling,

and it's the book that you bought.

Temper, Marty. Don't get your nuts in a knot.

It's just a suggestion.

Maybe he gets a big yellow dog.

Now, look.

Maybe not.

( music playing )

Is it too angry?

It's very angry.

But it's funny, right? I can make it funnier.

Okay, I'm gonna be totally honest with you now.

It's perfect.

Really?

I wouldn't change a thing.

This is very disconcerting.

I've never written anything that I've actually liked.

It's making it very hard to maintain a low self-image.

Sorry.

Thanks.

Here we go.

Hmm?

I bet I would have made a really great old person.

Hmm.

Are you expecting someone?

Hello?

It's me, darling.

Shh. It's my mother.

Come on in.

Do you have a mother, Martin?

Oh, yeah.

Then I don't need to explain.

Oh, darling.

I was in the city, visiting your sister and the baby,

who still runs from me, by the way.

Although Kathy swears she doesn't know why,

and I thought I would just come by and bring up a few things.

Oh, you're not alone.

Mother, this is Martin Tupper.

Martin, this is my mother, Kitty Brewer.

Hello, Martin Tupper.

It's nice to meet you.

So, what are the few things?

Oh, cereal, apples, lasagna, macaroni, and cheese, broccoli,

Turkey, pot pie, chicken, pot pie.

Mother, you know I'm not eating meat anymore.

Darling, chicken is not meat. Chicken is chicken.

There's no room in the freezer.

Then you'll just have to eat more to make room.

You need your strength.

If you want to hit her with a lamp, Martin, be my guest.

So...

How long have you been seeing Peter?

Seeing?

Oh, Martin, dear, it's all right.

You don't have to pretend. I know all about Peter.

We talk. It's just fine.

No, really. We're just working on others.

That's right, Martin.

We don't need to keep our love a secret from her.

Alice, what's going on with that funny little head of yours?

We don't?

No.

We have nothing to be ashamed of.

That's true. We don't.

Mrs. Brewer.

Or should I call you Mom?

Peter talks about you all the time.

Oh, really?

Oh, God. Just the other day, he was saying how much he wishes he could spend

more time with you.

Isn't that right, hon?

Of course.

Can I tell her?

Tell her what?

Peter wants to take you on a cruise.

A cruise? Really?

Ten days. Just the two of you.

Oh, Peter, I would love that.

Well, we... Just one of my little jokes.

Well, of course, it's my treat.

Oh, I'll call my travel agent in the morning.

Oh, she's marvelous. We can do the Caribbean or Mexico.

Ooh, that sounds wonderful.

I'll be right back. I've just got to go hurl myself.

Off the fire escape.

Oh, Martin, dear, I'm so glad he's found you.

I'm glad he's found someone.

Oh, well, yeah.

Do me a favor.

Sure, sure.

Take good care of him.

Promise me.

I... I promise.

Howdy!

Hey.

Oh, good for you.

King Cobra!

Thanks.

Give me a listen. Have you read Peter's latest pages?

Yeah.

What did you think of that scene at the Russian Tea Room?

I got excited.

This is one of the most exciting books I've ever worked on, you know.

Well, it's about to get more exciting, Marty.

What would you say if I told you we were getting rid of this Peterfella

and doing the book with Lucas Hill?

What?

Yeah, watch the boots, Marty. Watch the boots.

What are you talking about?

I mean, Lucas Hill, the quarterback?

Yeah, I found out through a friend of mine in the medical profession

that Mr. Hill is positive with this HIV thing.

Though I scooped the boys at Random House and got us the book.

We can't just drop Peter like this.

You know, this book is important.

I don't care if he's Oscar-fucking-wild, Marty.

You can't seriously expect us to publish the story of some pillow-biter

from the West Village rather than Lucas Hills.

Why not?

Oh, don't be dense, Marty. My guy does sneaker commercials.

He sleeps with women. He's a national hero.

This is a tragedy.

And with my guy, it's not a tragedy?

Well, no one cares about your guy, Marty.

I care about my guy.

I suppose at this point we should once again explore this employer-employee

relationship.

We're going with my guy.

You're a pig, Gebby.

Don't forget to wash your hands, Marty. Hygiene is everything.

Hitler has ordered you.

Excuse me.

Sorry. Is Peter here?

No. Mr. Peter in hospital.

Hospital?

You tell him. Toilet light. Shh.

Peter?

Mmm.

Nope. Not dead yet.

I can see that.

Is it the pneumonia again?

Yeah, but I look good.

And that's what counts.

Mmm. Thank you.

How do you feel?

Should've.

You're the worst writer's cramp.

Oh, here.

Good luck reading my writing.

My father was a doctor.

Peter, look at you.

Why don't you just forget about the book for right now?

Okay. You need to rest.

I need to write.

Okay.

I have to tell you something.

What?

Gebby.

You gotta do it.

He loves the Russian tearoom stuff.

Great.

Can they sue us for printing that?

Wait a minute. What the fuck do I care?

Nice decor, huh?

I can't believe I'm gonna spend the rest of my life in this room.

Wait. Wait.

Just, uh... Mmm. Mmm-hmm.

Mmm.

Peter.

You're making me feel like Ally McGraw.

Hey.

See that sweater over there?

That's for you.

My mother knitted that.

She loved you.

Oh, does this mean I'm gonna have to start

going to family weddings or something?

Oh, yeah. And if I don't get out of here,

you're going on that cruise with my mother.

No, no, no, no.

By the way, did I tell you?

I'll be moving to another state and changing my name?

No.

You don't get off that easy, Mike.

She'll track you down.

(

Hi, Kitty.

Martin. Hello.

How's it going?

I can't seem to throw anything away.

A doodle pad with phone numbers on it.

Here. I brought this for you. It's Peter's book.

Oh, thank you.

I'm just so sorry. It's never going to be published.

Just between you and me. I took it over to Random House.

Okay? It's gonna be out the beginning of December.

And, uh, I don't know. It turns out they,

uh... They needed a Christmas book, so...

You did good, Martin Tupper.

Oh. That's my daughter. I should go.

I want you to have this.

Peter's father gave it to him when he was a little boy.

No, no, I couldn't take that.

Really, you should have that.

Oh. Martin, darling, can you see me with a yo-yo?

Please.

Thank you, Kitty.

I'm coming.

My daughter, she's so impatient.

Well... I guess that's about everything.

You take care, Martin.

You too, Kitty.

(Sighs).

(Sighs)

You too, Kitty.

(Sighs)

(Sighs)

(Sighs).

Hello, Pete.

(Sighs).

(Sighs).

(Sighs)

John Renau and Wasabi at 11 on ITV4.

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