The Next Best Thing

---

To the left.

Breathe.

Open your chest.

Again.

- Here you go, boss.

- Thanks.

- Hi.

- I couldn't get a sitter.

It's okay. Go get a mat.

Hi. Hi. Hi.

You wanna do yoga?

A thousand dollars for dirt?

Since when does dirt

cost a thousand dollars?

"Dirt cheap" is an expression,

Mrs Griffiith.

It doesn't apply to a city

built on a desert.

Here you go.

You sit right there.

- Thankyou.

- Thankyou.

Hey, where do you think

you're going?

Mama was queen ofthe mambo

Papa wasking ofthe Congo

Deep down in thejungle

lstartedbangin'my first bongo

- Everymonkey like--

- Hello.

- He's really doing it.

- Who's doing what?

Kevin. He's leaving me.

- Where are you?

- I'm coweringbehinda flowerpot...

in my courtyard.

- How do I stop him?

- Don't, don't, don't stop him.

Just let him go, Abbie.

- My hands are shaking.

- Listen, lthoughtyou were

supposedto be ayoga teacher.

Just pull yourself up by your chakras

and do exactly what I say.

Now, in my opinion, the best defence

is a good pretence....

sojust pretend you're going out.

Justget alldressedup

inyourSundaybest andleave.

- And then what?

- Rush over to my house

and tell me all about it.

- Did I come at a bad time?

- Oh, no, I'm used to it, Kevin.

- You always come before I'm ready.

- I'll come back

for the rest of my stuff later.

No, let'sjust get this over with.

Holler ifyou need any help.

- It's not gonna work this time.

- What's not gonna work?

Your fantastic body.

Then you won't mind

doing up my dress.

- You don't have to stop.

- Yes, I do.

If I don't,

it'll start all over again...

and then it'll end

all over again.

Don't you think there's a chance

we can still work this out?

Look, it's not you, okay? It's me.

I mean, you're-- you're-- you're great.

You know, you're-- you're smart,

you're-- you're-- you're beautiful...

you're a good cook

and you are a great lay.

I'm just-- I'm just not ready,

all right? l-l'm-- I'm not there yet.

- Well, where is "there," Kevin?

- Commitment-wise. You're

way too much for me right now.

Wait a minute.

Are you saying that if I had

less to offeryou, you'd have

more ofa future together?

Okay. You want the truth?

I-l wanna date

less complicated women.

- What?

- I wanna come home

and we'd go out to dinner...

and people come over and talk to me,

and she smiles and she nods, okay?

And then we go home

and we do it...

and she doesn't instruct me

like an air traffiic controller.

- I do not instruct you.

- And in the morning, she understands...

that she's got to leave quickly,

so I can get on with the rest of my day

and I don't have to think about it.

Okay? That's what I want

right now. Simplicity.

No, what you want is a bimbo,

and that's exactly what you deserve.

- Robert was so right about you.

- Do you think I give a sh*t what

that f*ggot thinks about me?

Wait a minute. Kevin.

- Please don't leave me like this.

- Look, I don't love you.

It's over.

Theysaythat falling in love--

I am the only one

who's seen both.

Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes.

Ethel is and always will be

the defiinitive Annie...

and that bottle-blonde upstart cannot

hold a six-shooter to Merman.

It's true. True!

- Okay, so, uh, one heart.

- Are you bidding? Thankyou. Pass.

- Four clubs.

- Four diamonds, and I

don't mean rhinestones.

Oh, good. Robert's arrived.

Now we can settle this Annie Get

YourGun controversy once and for all.

- Robert, Merman or Hutton? Who reigns?

- I have no idea, you guys.

I'm afraid I flunked

on gay history.

- Pity, Robbie, pity.

- Take a tutorial.

- Silly boys.

- Let's move on, shall we? I pass.

Come on.

I told you there'd be tears

before bedtime.

- Another two years down the drain.

- Listen, Abbie.

You settled for less, you got less.

That's it. That's the end ofthe story.

Full stop. Now, if I were you,

and I practically am...

I'd turn my little red wagon

around and I'd get off

that dead-end street pronto.

I feel like Kevin was my last chance

for a normal life.

- Now you're really scaring me.

- Robert, look at me.

- I'm not 24 any more.

- You're not even 34 any more. So what?

Maybe I'd like to have

a family at some point...

before it's too late.

Abbie, I thinkyou should sort things

out with your own wacky family...

before you think about creating

a dysfunctional carbon copy

ofyour own.

-Oh, thankyou. I knew you'd understand.

-Ifyou want to have a kid,

just go ahead and have one.

- With what man?

- You don't need to have a man

to have a child.

This is the 2 1 st century.

Just go out and buy yourself

some nice, frozen lvy League sperm...

swish it around in a test tube

and bottoms up.

I don't wanna have

a baby that way.

Well, then go to China and buy one.

I wanna have a baby

with someone I love...

and I'm never gonna meet anybody,

and pretty soon it'sjust gonna be

another thing I didn't do.

Listen, darling, ifthis evening's

gonna turn into a pity party...

I'm gonna go up to the big house

and sing Annie Get YourGun

with the others.

Can't I just be sad?

Can't you just humour me?

Oh, all right.

Well, actually, not all right.

I can't commiserate with you. Not about

breaking up with that a**hole Kevin.

Itjust makes me too angry.

Abbie...

you are the most beautiful woman

I know.

And I think more highly ofyou

than you do ofyourself.

- What is it with straight guys in L.A.?

- There aren't any.

I can't imagine any man letting you

slip through his fiingers. Really.

You're the only woman in the world

that I would like to...

be.

- Ow!

- Thanks.

Anyway, let's drink to never

having to see that loser again...

or talk about him!

I have to.

Might as well just go to the studio now

and get it over with.

Why?

Because he still

has my house keys.

Are you going to sacrifiice your last

shred ofself-respect for a set of keys?

- I think so.

- That is tragic.

This is how much I care.

I'll handle this.

This here.

- Turn the hi-hats down.

- This is radio all day. Clubs.

- Good stuff. I hear a single.

- Keep the bass

bumpin' like that, though.

Get the bass goin'.

- Keep the bottle head up.

- More bass. Put more bass in.

Hear that? Make you wanna grow

a big-ass Afro, huh?

- Hi, hi.

- What the--

Stop!

Robert, what the hell

are you doing here?

I haven't come here to argue.

I just want the keys.

You know what I'm talking about.

The house keys. Hand 'em over!

- I don't have your keys.

- No more excuses, poopsie.

Poopsie?

I haven't got time for the pain.

Hey, Kev, look like

your b*tch need a shave.

- Actually, I wax.

- He's not my b*tch, okay?

-So what you sayin'? You the b*tch, Kev?

-I'm not anybody's b*tch, all right?

- Abbie put you up to this, didn't she?

- Oh, A-Abbie-- Abbie.

Is that what you're calling me

this month to your chocolate-covered

peanut gallery?

- Yo Mama!

- This is precisely why...

I'm leaving him, everyone.

This double life

is tearing my roots apart.

Just give me the keys, please,

to Abbie's house.

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