A Guy Thing Page #4

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Come on. Come on.

I don't even know you!

Get in.

Get in where?

The dumpster.

- Really?|- Yeah.

Just give me a second here.

You sicken me.

I told you,|there's a big mix-up!

What happened?

I was mugged.

Oh, my God.|Paul, you're bleeding.

What is all this stuff?

Chocolate milk and cheese puffs.

Oh, my God, Paul.

I don't know.|I was carrying the groceries...

and this guy tried|to take them from me.

But I fought back.

I fought like a tiger.

I had the strength of ten men.

He ran away like a little girl.

Sweet.

Did you get a good look at him?

Not really.|It all happened so fast.

What color was his hair?

Red.

Dreaded... in a way|that I've never seen.

- Dreadlocks.|- And a gold tooth.

That is so street.

Size?|Was he big, tall, short?

Five-six.

Or six-two.

- Somewhere in there?|- Yeah.

Any identifying marks?

Yeah. A heinous scar.

Over his left eye.

Your left eye, sir,|or his left eye?

You're pointing to your right.

Looking at him,|his left eye or your left?

His left side.

- You're sure?|- Yeah.

Left eye.

He had a tattoo.

A barbed-wire choker tattoo.

Probably gang-related.

Gangbanger.

Was the assailant|Caucasian or non-Caucasian?

Non.

- Was he black?|- Not necessarily.

- What was he?|- Mix. Black, white.

- Black, white.|- Light-skinned black man.

Or a dark-skinned white man.

God, it must have been|so confusing.

Did he say anything to you?

Oh, God, Paul,|did he say something to you?

Yeah.

Don't keep that inside.|What did he say?

- He said...|- It's OK.

"Give me those groceries,|Whitey."

"Give me your groceries,|Whitey."

Well...

But you say he could've|been white himself.

You did say that, sir.

What's going on here?

Am I on trial?|I didn't even do anything!

I told you|it happened all so fast.

You're safe. That's it.|I think we're done here.

That's it for Paul.|Good luck.

We're just trying|to get the facts...

do our job.

Thanks.

Good luck with everything.

You poor thing, sweetheart.

Just sit tight.|I'll get you some aspirin.

Thank you, baby.

I'll be interested to see...

if the police|come up with any leads.

Honey, I don't think they will.

A little mugging...|They have bigger fish to fry.

But they're good men.

What are these?

I don't know.

I'll tell you what they are...|women's underwear.

I found them|in the toilet tank.

The toilet tank?

The water was leaking,|so I went to lift the...

What is going on here?

Did you have a girl|in this apartment?

Karen! Absolutely not!

Those underwear are yours.

No, they are not.

They were gonna be yours.|I got them for you.

For your birthday. Enjoy.

My birthday|was three months ago.

I know.

But then I found|that locket you wanted...

and I gave that to you instead.

I wanted to give these to you|at a later date...

so I went ahead and hid them|in the toilet tank.

Why aren't they in a box?

Why aren't they in a box?

Oddly enough,|that's how they came.

I found them|in an underwear bin.

A bin? Where do they sell|underwear out of a bin?

Spend Mart.

You expect me to believe...

that you purchased|a pair of underwear...

out of a bin at Spend Mart.

Is that your story?

Yeah.

Oh, my God. These are dirty.

What? That's disgusting!

I can't believe those f***ers|sold me dirty underwear!

That is just wrong!

Now I'm really glad|I didn't give them to you.

I'm hungry.|Should we eat something?

Paul, listen to me.|I am not stupid.

Please tell me|what's going on here...

and I want you to be|totally honest with me.

Did you have a girl|in this apartment?

I trusted you,|you son of a b*tch!

How do you like that?

No, I did not.

Fine.

What are you doing?

I'm calling Spend Mart.|They probably want to know...

that they are selling|dirty women's underwear.

Karen, come on,|this whole thing's silly.

I doubt they'll admit|they sell dirty underwear.

I'm sure|it's against corporate policy.

Spend Mart,|where you spend less.

I have a question|regarding your underwear bins.

Underwear bins?

My fiance has informed me...

that he bought a pair of|dirty women's underwear...

out of one of your bins...

and I wanted to hear|your thoughts on this.

My thoughts?|On our underwear bins?

These are my thoughts.|I'm sick of it.

It's some college kids|playing a prank.

They been putting|dirty underwear in our bins.

- What?|- What did he say?

On behalf of Spend Mart,|I'd like to apologize.

Why don't you have|your fiance come down...

and we'll exchange them|for a fresh pair...

or refund your money. OK?

Poor bastard.

Underwear bins?

It's a guy thing.

Bullshit!

God, I am really sorry.|I feel terrible.

It's OK, honey.

I am a terrible person|for accusing you.

No, you are so honest.

I don't deserve you.|Thank you.

I love them.

I knew you would.

Let's just forget about it.

Let's pretend it never happened.

I love you, you love me,|that's all that matters.

One sec!

I got home from work...

and found these pictures|in my son's room.

He was standing over them.

Are we on the same page?

Don't speak!

In the future,|would you find a way...

to dispose of|your pornography...

so it doesn't wind up|in the hands of children?

Absolutely. I apologize.

- Who's at the door?|- Our neighbor, Mr...

Minister Ferris.

Mr. Minister Ferris.

Hello.|I'm Karen, Paul's fiancee.

Congratulations. You move|right along, don't you?

Mr. Minister Ferris stopped by|to recommend a TV special.

Wow, that's great.

Thanks for thinking of us.|We'll keep that...

Son...

I've got my eye on you.

OK, then.

That was awfully|thoughtful of him.

I think he was|checking out your crotch.

Karen, he's a man of the cloth.

Let's not rashly accuse him of|being some weird pecker checker.

I've got to go to the bathroom.

OK.

Sh*t.

Do you smell smoke?

OK. Oh, sh*t!

Is something burning?|I smell smoke.

I lit a match,|if you know what I mean.

- Do you still have diarrhea?|- Yeah, I do.

I tell you,|you think you got it licked...

it comes right back|to kick you in the butt.

If this keeps up,|we'll have to plan...

our whole wedding day|around your bowel movements.

Hello?

Hey, Paul, it's Becky.

Jimmy boy! What's up?

Nothing much, Jimmy boy.

I got a visit from|my lunatic ex-fiance.

He's got pictures|of us together.

Hey, baby!|Can I get a gin and tonic...

and maybe you in bed?

I don't know what|he'll do with them...

but he's got|a steroid rage problem...

so I'm thinking|that's not a good thing.

That is great news!

What's going on?

It's Jim.|He got a promotion.

Wow.

Here's the deal.|Ray's working the night shift.

We can sneak into his apartment|and get the negatives.

You're the man, Jim.

Pick me up at 10:00|at the Soho.

You know where that is?

Great. Don't be late|and bring a flashlight.

Wait.|I want to congratulate Jim.

Six bucks?

I wanted to talk.

You did? I'm sorry.

Hello?|I'm so glad you called back.

Congratulations|on the big promotion.

Thanks, Karen.|It was a long time coming.

OK, here's Paul.

- Jim?|- Paul.

You're getting|better at this, buddy.

Hang on, call waiting.

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