Down to You Page #4

It's no big deal once you get

the hang of all the steps.

Then maybe you could cook

for me sometime.

That would be...

nice.

What do you fancy?

Any kind of meat.

-Catch us if you can.

-I'll be driving.

-No, you're a mess.

-You're drunk.

-Plus I got the keys.

-No, you don't.

Yes, you do.

"We should just sit here and wait."

Okay, relax. Somebody's bound

to come along.

-We're in the middle of nowhere.

-Don't worry. We're going to be okay.

-Don't be moody about it.

-I'm not. Don't give that moody crap.

Don't even think about it.

It didn't take much to see

the accident as a sign.

So while Monk was training

to play Macbeth...

Imogen and I decided

to start over.

-I cherish our walks in the park.

-They are nice.

Makes me feel good

about myself.

Your wounds from the crash

have healed. But tell me...

are things well between you

and Lady Imogen?

Very well, indeed.

Can you make a fair judgement?

Is she forever?

Well, we're much more

serious these days.

Enlighten me. I'm eager to hear

the talk of mortals.

What's great is the sharing.

She's really getting back into her art.

And she's really talented.

It's nice to accept each other's vices.

She's cut down since the crash.

It's her outlet.

I have my own.

And her work ethic is kicking in.

Which is good for anyone.

We've...

spruced up our sex life.

Making it a little bit more exotic.

On Sundays I cook a nice dinner.

We sit afterwards.

Sometimes we'll fool around

on the kitchen table.

But usually it's me reading

and her sketching.

Sure, we fight. One time, I

finnaly beat her at Ping-Pong.

And she didn't even high-fived me.

Maybe I was being a sore winner.

And that's when

the making up feels best.

-And you know what comes then?

-What?

The tingles.

-It's an enchanting tale.

-It's true.

You realize, of course, that this could

be your descent into timely separation.

-How?

-Like a ripe fruit...

it falls from the tree.

And that is nature's course.

I don't know what Monk

was talking about.

I thought things were

going pretty good.

In the morning.

-Why?

-Because I'm tired.

Are they ever going to shut up?

It's Friday night.

People are out.

Wait up. I just took

a dump in my pants.

Hello?

We're closed!

-It's what I wanna...

-Because...

-I've already got smell-o-vision.

-You must be a mom.

Welcome back to "The Man Show".

Tonight's topic:

men who wear the skirts

in their relationship.

Let me introduce you

to our guest, Al Connely.

Al can't even get sex from

his own girlfriend. Pathetic.

You're still in college, right?

Only going out for a year.

-For a while. It's not every night.

-What are you studying there?

Liberal arts.

But I want to be a chef.

I see. So you're bi, but you eventually

wanna go gay. Very ambitious.

-What kind of chef you wanna be?

-French cuisine.

French cuisine?

Cuisine? First of all,

it's food, all right?

That's your problem right there.

You're not much of a guy, Al.

No, I'm trying to respect her.

Al, can l... by the way,

can I call you Alice?

Let me tell you what women respect:

not being respected. Right, Jimmy?

Let's go to the audience, see if they

have any questions. You.

Al, could you cross your legs for me?

Your panties are starting to show.

What a nightmare.

Remind me to cancel cable.

Who can sleep now?

I didn't want him to feel rejected.

But I had other things on my mind.

Thing she couldn't understand.

When you watch people go through

this stuff on TV, it always seem fake.

But when it happens to you,

there's nothing fake about it.

-I thought we were careful.

-Oh, that's sincere.

-Why did you wait so long to tell me?

-I was hoping it 'd come.

-But you're usually pretty regular.

-You don't know, it's not your body!

-Relax.

-I will not relax!

Let's just get it over with.

We are here together.

We can do this together.

I'm sorry.

I just need to be

by myself right now.

I'm sorry.

So there I was, smacked in the middle

of every girl's nightmare.

I know it must have been

just as hard for Al.

And he was so sincere when he said

we can do this together.

But I just needed to be alone.

Who am I kidding?

I needed to freak out.

Now, instead of the word "married"

frightening me, it was "mother".

I was so terrified and nervous

I asked Lana to read the results.

I think it's like, pink.

That means "no", right?

The biggest relief

I have ever felt in my life.

But after the false alarm,

we started getting distant.

We were carrying more responsibilities

than we could handle.

We just wanted to act our age.

Actually, I wanted to work things out.

Al wanted to act our age.

What do college kids do

when they can't handle reality?

Party! Party!

Al thought it 'd be better to go to one

of Monk's parties and forget about us.

And I ended up going, but with

a chip on my shoulder. A big one.

-Is everything in full swing here?

-Yes.

No one goes hungry or thirsty.

No one goes home alone.

Hello, darling. How are you?

Have you tried the machine? Do try.

Here's where the beautiful

people are hiding.

-How about a drink?

-The bar's straight left, friend.

I've never seen

your "Camelot" before.

Then see it from

the king's eyes.

Don't worry, friend.

I'll return her.

Does that feel good?

-Yes.

-You want to go next, big boy?

So you're ready for another?

-Name, rank and serial number.

-How goes it?

Tipsy goes it.

Want some?

Is this love or illusion?

Burgundy.

Feel those endorphins?

I have more.

-What's this?

-Don't you wanna make me pancakes?

But that's part of the challenge.

-Don't you get tired of doing press?

-Yes, yes.

Quite, quite. But it sells

pictures, sweetheart.

-Just make me pancakes.

-I think...

And you can make them before...

or after.

I was reluctant to take the role.

Mr. Morrison!

You've met Lady Imogen?

We know each other.

No one ever made me pancakes.

Cyrus.

I'm in love with someone else.

I can't make you anything.

When I'm with my bass...

It's like I'm with a woman.

And when I play...

it's like we're spooning.

But while we spoon...

we make music.

That's why I play, man.

-That's cool.

-There you are.

Name's Morrison. Jim...

...Morrison.

-I'm sorry. This is...

Alfred Connely.

-So, what year are you?

-Dropped out.

I felt like I had to focus

my energy on my music.

-And I deal drugs on the side.

-How productive.

Imogen tell you she's designing

my album cover?

I didn't want to jinx it in case I felt

pressured while I was working on it.

Yo, folks?

So I'm baking hash cakes over

at Lana's, right?

And Imogen comes over, and so I start

to hit on her because she's hot.

She tells me she's got this boyfriend

or something, but I'm cool with that.

So then I asked her if I could see some

of her paintings. They're so good.

-She's a very talented lady.

-Yeah! So good!

I'm going to the bathroom.

I'll go with you.

Wait up.

So what's your deal, man?

-I work in TV. "Cops".

-No way.

My old man is a cop.

Real tough one.

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