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---

Hello.

Mr. Brooks, there's a Margo Brofman

on the phone for you.

- Oh, yeah? Put her through.

- Okay.

- Hello?

- Hey, Margo.

I'm giving a surprise party

Sunday night. Can you come?

Who're you gonna surprise?

You.

- Who else is coming?

- Just Felicia and Liz.

Oh, yeah?

- What's the occasion?

- That's the surprise.

- Hey, Mac.

- Nice-looking threads.

- Can I take some roses?

- Help yourself.

Thanks.

Here you go.

Come in, Steve.

Looking good, slick.

- Felicia.

- Hello, Steve.

Thank you.

- Thank you.

- You're welcome.

And Liz.

- Hi, Steve.

- Hi.

Hey, Margo.

Come on in.

Unbelievable!

Looking good there.

Sexy!

Unbelievable!

Slick, you are something else!

Come on, Margo.

It's my turn.

Oh, yes.

I don't believe this.

I'm sitting here with three

beautiful women who said they hated me.

- I gotta be dreaming.

- We still hate you.

We decided you should be punished

for the way you treat women.

Oh, yeah.

Men like you

just have to be stopped.

How're you gonna stop me?

We're going to kill you.

What a way to die.

Oh, God.

We did it.

We still gotta get him out of

the hot tub and down to the river.

- I don't think I can.

- You have to!

We can't do it without you.

You b*tches.

Where am I?

Purgatory.

- Where's that?

- Between heaven and hell.

What happens now?

On one hand, you've earned enough

credits to get you into heaven.

- Thank God.

- You're welcome.

On the other hand, you've been

so consistently rotten to women...

you deserve to go

straight to hell.

- That's pretty rotten.

- Perfect record. They all hate you.

- All of them?

- As far as I know.

You should know, but...

it's kinda hard for me to believe

there aren't a couple of women--

Right now I'll settle for one.

So I've decided

that you should go back...

and find one female

who truly likes Steve Brooks.

If you find her,

you go to heaven.

If you don 't,

you'll spend eternity in hell.

- Back?

- Unless you have a better suggestion.

Back's fine.

Back's terrific.

Good morning. This is Ross Britain.

It's 8:
00 in the Big Apple.

Here's Keith Slaughter

and the Butchers...

pla ying what Jerry Falwell describes

as the devil's music.

Excuse me.

- Yes?

- I wish to lod ge a complaint.

What is it this time?

I have as much ri ght

to Steve Brooks' soul as you do.

That's why I sent him back.

Ifhe can't find one female who

likes him, then his soul is yours.

That's not a fair test.

He'll pick some helpless...

unsuspecting female...

pretend to be everything he's not.

In the end she'll adore him.

And you'll be honor-bound

to admit...

an unregenerate debaucher

into heaven.

What do you suggest?

Teach him a lesson,

and at the same time...

make it impossible for him

to work his macho machinations...

on any more unsuspecting females.

And how do I do that?

Easy.

Make him a woman.

Security.

Okay, Mrs. Wetherspoon.

I'll take care of it

right away.

Some woman's screaming her head off

in Brooks' apartment.

Again?

She didn't sound like the others.

It was bloodcurdling.

- You want I should call SWAT?

- No.

Anybody here?

Are you sure

you don't need a backup?

It's Mac!

Hey, lady. Miss?

I'm up! I'm up!

What time is it?

You okay?

- What the hell happened?

- Easy.

Looks like you fainted

or something.

I guess I must have fainted

or something.

Oh, yeah.

Holy sh*t!

Where's Mr. Brooks?

Where's Mr. Brooks?

- Who are you?

- Where's Mr. Brooks?

Who am I?

How'd you get in here?

How do you know my name?

I never passed you through.

- Al was on duty.

- He didn't tell me.

You sign in?

I don't remember.

All guest are required

to sign the register.

You couldn't have gotten in unless

Mr. Brooks said it was okay...

and you signed that register.

Mr. Brooks must have said it was okay

and I must have signed, right?

Because here I am!

Here I f***ing am!

- I'm not feeling too well.

- Want me to call a doctor?

It's okay.

You know, I just--

I kinda--

I keeled over there

'cause I got some bad news...

but I'm gonna shower, shave.

I'm gonna

pull myself together here.

You know how it is, Mac.

You get up on the wrong side of the bed.

- You haven't brushed you teeth.

- When will Mr. Brooks come back?

Not for a very long time.

- Really?

- Yeah. He, uh--

You see, he told me

that he was going away.

- He's gone away.

- Yeah.

And he asked me

to take care of his apartment.

- You're taking care--

- Yeah. Because--

- Because we're sisters.

- You're sisters?

I'm the sister.

I mean, I'm his half sister.

We have different mothers,

but he gave me his key...

showed me how everything works...

so I'm gonna be fine,

just fine.

- Thanks a lot.

- Sure.

How you doing there,

Mrs. Wetherspoon?

Un-f***ing-believable.

- Hello?

- Hello.

Hey, Walter.

How you doin', buddy?

Who's this?

Who is this?

Okay, look, Walter.

I'm gonna try something here.

I'm a woman.

Yeah?

It's me, Walter.

I'm a woman.

Is this Connie?

No, it isn't Connie.

It's me.

Okay. Forget it.

I'm a man.

I'm Amanda. I'm Steve's sister.

Wait till you get a load of me.

Steve doesn't have a sister.

Can I talk to Steve, please?

You are--

I mean, you can't.

It's after 1 0:
00.

Steve hasn't shown up for work.

Look, it's really complicated.

Why don't you meet me for lunch

and I'll explain it to you.

Steve would have told me

if he had a sister.

No, he wouldn't.

I'll meet you

at the City Grille at 1 :00.

Wait, wait!

How I'm gonna know it's you?

You can't miss me, pal.

I'm blonde, about 5'7".

Built like a brick shithouse.

Desk.

Yes, Mr. Reed.

Hold on a second.

- That's the broad.

- I never passed her by here.

- You let her in?

- No, I didn't. She told me you--

- You let her in?

- No, I didn't. She told me you--

- Morning, May.

- Wait a minute.

- She still in the sack?

- Wait a minute. You can't go up there!

- I'd love a cup of coffee.

- Mrs. Brofman!

Mrs. Brofman, open the door!

What, May?

- Who are you? Get out!

- Are you all right?

Call the police!

Then you could tell them all about

that little party you threw last night.

What?

Divers shouldn't have any trouble

finding the body.

I can just hear

Felicia and Liz now.

Oh, yeah.

"We tried to drown him

in the hot tub, but...

Margo shot him.

Three times in the chest."

Don't call the police.

Forget the police.

- You sure?

- Yes.

All right.

Who are you?

Where's the gun?

Who the hell are you?

Oh, take a good look, Margo.

They say the eyes

are the windows to the soul.

Look into my eyes.

Whose soul do you see?

It's me, Margo-- Steve.

You're crazy!

I picked you because you're a lot

smarter than those other two bimbos.

Also, you believe

that fag psychic of yours...

told you you were Helen ofTroy

in another incarnation.

Way I figure it,

you'd have no trouble believing...

that I am the late, great

Steven Brooks, your ex-lover...

reincarnated as a gorgeous female.

Look deep, Margo.

You better believe it, slick.

'Cause after I borrow a dress

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