I Think I Love My Wife Page #8

You should come out with me tonight.

I'm not going out with you.

I need you to.

What for?

What's going on?

Well, there's this guy,

he's really into me.

I'm not sure what I

think about him,

so I want you to come and

tell me what you think.

After D.C.,

I have no desire

to meet any more of your boyfriends.

What, are you jealous?

No. Okay, who's this guy?

What's his name?

Compassion.

Compassion?!

Wh-What?

Compassion Fruit?

Compassion... Luther King.

Compassionate?

Wh-Wh...?

Compassion.

Just come, it'll be a blast.

You know, we'll eat onion rings

till 4:
00 in the morning.

It'll be like old times.

So, what am I gonna tell my wife?

Um... I don't know.

Just... start a fight.

RICHARD:
Chicken?!

Yes. What is wrong?

Chicken again?

We have chicken every day-

I'm tired of chicken.

I thought you liked chicken.

I like it, but I don't

like it every day.

I mean, I feel like I got

feathers coming out my ass.

All right, this

isn't about chicken,

because I know you like chicken.

No, no, no, you know what?

You know what?

You know what this is about?

This is about all the other

animals out there

that are dying to be

eaten that we don't eat!

Now, have you ever

heard of lamb chops?

Have you ever heard of pork chops?

Can a nigga get a taco?!

Are you crazy?

I'm losing my finger-lickin'

mind right now,

eating all this chicken.

I can't take it anymore.

Chicken hawks don't eat

this much chicken.

You know what? I'm gone.

I can't take it!

I can't take it!

Wh-Where you going?

To get some duck!

ADMISSIONER:

Hey, Hannah, what are

you going?

HANNAH:

I wanna see Mr. Boyd going on.

(THE IMPRESSIONS PLAYING

AT THE WALTZ DANCE RECEPTION)

Steven! Mr. Boyd, wait!

Hey! Steven, Mr. Boyd!

SHIRLEY:

May i have this dance?

Of course.

I'm sorry, i just wanna introduce myself.

BRENDA:

Hi, sweetie, do you wanna dance?

Certainly.

Hands off! I saw her first!

That's what you think, sister!

(ALL WOMEN YELLING)

Steven! Mr. Boyd!

MR. BOYD:

I mean, i really never like me

that's the time to go fishing.

(HANNAH SCREAMING)

Mr. Boyd! Steven!

(train horn blares)

RICHARD:

What the hell is wrong with me?

How could I talk to Brenda

like that?

L- I'm losing my mind.

I got to go home.

Okay, next stop,

I'm getting off this train

and I'm gonna go home to Brenda.

That's what I'm gonna do.

I am going home.

So, I just got off the phone

with Nikki, and, um...

she's running

just a little bit late,

but she said she is gonna be here.

Late? How late?

I'm not really sure,

but, uh, she told me

to take good care of you,

and I will.

So don't worry about it;

she'll be here.

(whispers):
Excuse me.

So, sh-she's gonna be here, right?

She's gonna be here.

Don't worry.

HANNAH:

Steven! Mr. Boyd!

Steven! Mr. Boyd!

Whoa!

(CROWD GASPS)

I'm sorry, guys, i slipped down.

( classical music plays)

(hip-hop thumping loudly,

phone ringing)

Hi. Um...

I'll have two vodka martinis.

BARTENDER:
Olive?

Yeah...

Chicken?

Chicken, my ass.

( classical music plays)

(sighing)

(hip-hop playing)

Excuse me...

(shouting):
Have you seen Nikki?!

No, she hasn't called, but she will.

Dance! There's a lot of girls here.

BARTENDER:
Can I talk to you...?

F*** this!

Where is it?

Boring-ass suit.

(mocking):

"I just wanted something different..."

with your green shirt!

(hip-hop playing)

( classical music playing)

Motherf***er!

Asian women.

I thought he was done

with that bullshit.

(hip-hop plays)

Did you wear it yet?

Excuse me?

The shirt!

I sold you a shirt

like, a month ago.

Saks?

We work at the men's

section in Saks.

Yeah, yeah, yeah,

I remember you guys.

You-You sold me the green shirt.

Uh, what are you doing here?

We're just hanging out.

We come here every week.

Wednesday's the best night.

What are you doing here?

Uh, I'm-I'm waiting for someone.

Okay, well, we're

gonna go smoke this.

You wanna come?

Uh, I really shouldn't.

I shouldn't.

BOTH:
Come on!

It's totally natural. I got it

from, like, this doctor I know.

All right, but just a little bit.

- Come on.

- Come on.

Well, what kind of chicken

did you cook him?

He was just supposed to go out

to get something to eat,

and that was almost four hours ago.

Did you go through his pockets?

Y-Yes, I checked his pockets.

Did you find anything

on his computer?

Just a little Asian porn,

but nothing serious.

I'm sure he's somewhere right

now, just clearing his head.

(rap plays)

I called him.

A-And he hasn't answered.

Richard is a responsible guy.

I'm sure you don't have anything

to worry about.

(rap plays)

Okay, yeah.

You're probably right.

(pop plays)

Have you heard from Nikki?!

I just got off the phone with her.

She told me to tell you

she's sorry

but she's not gonna

be able to make it.

She's going to Miami with

some guy named Compassion.

Something about

Puffy having a party.

(song continues)

(song continues)

(song continues)

(song fades)

Where have you been?

I'm sorry.

F*** "sorry."

What kind of"food"

did you go out to get

that takes five goddamn hours?

Brenda...

Brenda sh*t!

Don't you say my name.

Are you f***ing somebody?

'Cause I swear to God, if I find

out you're f***ing somebody...

It's not that; it's work. I...

I lost a client, and

they put me on probation.

Now I wanted to tell you, but I

didn't want you to get upset.

Where have you been?

I was at the sports bar,

watching the Knick game.

The game has been over.

I know.

Don't you ever do any sh*t

like this to me again.

Do you hear me?

I don't know what's going on

with you, but you fix it.

I'm sorry.

You should be.

(line ringing)

Hi, this is Nikki.

I'm not here to take your call,

so remember:

Love is God, God is love. Peace.

(voice mail beeps)

Nikki? Richard.

I don't know what happened

to you last night,

and I don't really care.

I'm married. You're single.

Don't call me.

Don't come by the office.

Don't e-mail me. Don't fax me.

Just leave me the f*** alone.

You got it?

Just leave me the f*** alone.

Thank you.

Good night.

Good night, Richard.

Go home, Tracy.

Good night, Richard.

GEORGE:

Uh, Cliff, tell Russell I can do the late lunch,

and then we'll talk

about that other thing.

(whispers):
Okay.

Want a ride?

Yeah, sure.

Come on.

GEORGE:
So, what are you gonna do?

RICHARD:
I don't know.

Brenda's so f***ing mad, I'm scared.

All right, buddy,

now is damage control.

I'll tell you what to do.

This weekend, you

get a babysitter,

take your wife out to a nice dinner.

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