Ghosts Of Girlfriend Past Page #6

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All right, dinner's good. Dinner's good.

Yeah. I love dinner.

You know what?

I'm pretty hungry right now.

- What do you say?

- All right. Well, on one condition.

We gotta...

We gotta button you up.

You look like a gay pirate.

- Am I gonna have to call a cab for you?

- No, no, I live here.

Oh, nice building.

- Oh, yeah. Thanks.

- You could upgrade...

...if you banked north of 150K a year...

- And fifty thousand dollars!

...like I do!

You gotta learn to say that

in Spanish for Hector.

Wow, that self-deprecating shtick

really works.

I might have to put that back

in my playbook.

I'm genuinely concerned that you might be

missing the entire point of this.

- Good night.

- Well, hang on a second.

Let me help you carry your luggage up.

- No. We just met today, sort of.

- What are you talking about?

- No.

- Hey.

We've known each other our whole lives.

It's been too great a night

to end it out here.

You've gotten really good at this.

But you cannot come up.

I don't want this to be a one-night thing.

So you've gotta woo me.

Why woo when we can just do?

- Ha, ha.

- Huh?

The wooing is actually not for my benefit.

Mm.

I can't believe she called me

on my crap like that.

That is not at all how I remember it.

So, what's next?

Well, now we're gonna watch

a romantic montage of you and Jenny...

...set to Cyndi Lauper's

"Time After Time."

Awake me when

there's an action sequence, will you?

Shh.

- Hello, ladies, how are you?

- Oh, good.

Great. Thank you so much.

Everything was great.

Do you have a dessert menu?

What are you...?

And then,

after several weeks of wooing...

Ah, here we go.

Whoo!

Oh, yeah.

That was amazing.

I can't imagine why.

We only had 20 years of foreplay.

Oh, yeah.

- What are you doing?

- Uh, I gotta get home.

I got something early in the morning

I gotta take care of.

Yeah, me too. The alarm is already set.

Look, Jenny, I don't, uh, stay over,

you know what I mean?

Wait, Connor, listen.

There are two types of women in this world.

Women you shag and leave,

and women you shag and snuggle.

Regrettably,

I'm the shag-and-snuggle kind.

So you have 3 seconds

to get back in this bed where you belong...

...and where, deep down,

you actually wanna be.

Or you can march out of my apartment

and never call me again.

One...

...two...

Three.

Not as dumb as he looks, folks.

This is the moment

you truly fell in love with Jenny.

You completely let her in.

And this is the moment that you realized

you were spooning.

So you did what you do best.

All right, I don't wanna see this.

Of course not.

I called.

Good. I don't remember calling.

Hello?

Oh.

No, this is Dr. Perotti.

Okay. Yup.

I'll be there in 15.

Okay, good.

And that was the last stop

before you officially became Connor Mead.

Come on. I'll buy you a drink.

After Jenny, your relationships

grew shorter and shorter.

So short, in fact, that it would be easier

to do this in bulk.

- You remember Amy, the stewardess?

- Hey, Connor.

We had plane sex somewhere over Albany.

And Rochester. And South Bend, Indiana.

Triple whammy.

You slept with my sister.

I was Shawna back then.

A waitress at the Palm.

- We had coatroom sex on my smoke break.

- That was you?

We dated for two days.

- For an hour.

- For 48 seconds.

- We had sex in your car.

- On your car.

While I washed your car.

- You never called me again.

- Never called again.

Every time you slept with me,

you called me Jenny.

Right. How much more of this do I have?

Um, a lot.

Oh, wow.

Okay, this is getting kind of weird.

- We miss you, Connor.

- Connor, stay with us.

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

- I need you, Connor.

- Hey, back off.

- Get off!

- I'm obsessed with you, Connor.

Get off!

- I love you, Connor!

- Get...

Ow!

Nightmare.

Alcohol.

It's not complicated.

Our guests are represented by the Allies.

Paul, you and your guests are Nazis.

I'll try not to read into that, sir.

Blue frogmen are non-requisite

support personnel.

Waiters, photographers, caterers,

band members and so forth.

Oh, Donna, look.

You got a grenade launcher.

Oh, my God, I love grenade launchers.

Thank you.

Daddy, you're not showing off

your seating chart, are you?

- Oh, come on. It's perfect.

- It's really impeccable.

I didn't even get a machine gun.

Alcohol. Alcohol.

Alcohol.

What's left in here?

All right.

Oh. Oh. Uh...

Not good.

Okay, not good. Not good.

Where's the leg?

Okay.

Something to hold you up.

Bottle.

Okay, that'll work.

Okay, sarge and Sandy.

Yeah, there you go.

And Paul and Mrs. Volcom.

Try to keep up, son.

- Then the rest of the wedding party joins in.

- Hey.

- All right.

- Here we go.

Watch out for the flowers.

- Would you like to dance?

- Oh, thank you...

...but I'm just watching the...

- Jenny, dance.

Come on.

Oh, nice frame.

I see.

Where'd you learn to dance?

- I spent some time in Colombia.

- What, are you a drug mule?

No, Doctors Without Borders.

- I know, he's perfect.

- Shut up.

Hey! Shh, shh.

- What else are you ridiculously good at?

- He's certified in shiatsu massage.

Is it weird that I know that?

- Yeah.

- A little. Ha, ha.

What's going...? Oh, God.

Oh, my God, the cake.

Did you see what happened?

Oh, my God.

Okay, look, these things

are not very well-engineered, all right?

They're very rickety.

- Here we go.

- No!

I can totally fix this.

If it's any consolation,

the cake really wasn't very good.

You had a piece?

Look, it splattered into my mouth

upon impact, all right?

- It was unavoidable.

- It is a wedding cake, you stupid b*tch.

Not a rehearsal-dinner cake!

- I hate you!

- No, no, no, Sandy, Sandy. Release.

- Release. Release.

- Aah! Aah!

He's not worth it, sweetheart.

I'm fine. I'm fine.

I am a lady.

I am a professional.

And I'm fine.

- Let's get out of here.

- Okay, see if you can stabilize the bride.

I've got the cake and childcare.

Brad, some shiatsu for Sandra, please?

Let's see some happy faces.

Big happy, big happy.

Oh, where do you think you're going?

- Breathe.

- Let me know if the pressure's okay.

There you go.

- Thank you, Denice.

- Thank you.

- Okay. Oh, that's good.

- She's freaking out.

- I know.

- Connor is ruining the wedding.

He is also ruining

Operation Sex For Every Bridesmaid.

- I almost hooked up with Connor.

- What?

When he told me to go by his room,

the door was locked.

I could hear him talking to himself.

Dude, that guy takes mind games...

...to the next level.

- Old school.

- So who's next?

- I'm up.

Oh, wait. Are you the one

that slept with Paul?

- No.

- Because he won't go there.

- Ew. What?

- That would be me.

- Shut up. Shut your face.

- No. You never told us that.

Well, I'm paying the price. Looks like

I'm gonna have to get plastered...

...and downgrade

to one of Paul's desperate work friends.

I can transmit, page, pilot

and sync channels now.

- What channel are you on?

- Hey, guys, holster them.

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