The Ringer Page #2

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- Look, I wanna help, but...

- But what?

The guy's wife is dead. Think a guy

with no fingers will find another woman?

Even worse - when he comes home,

he won't be able to jerk off properly

because you robbed him of his dignity.

Look, get it through your head.

I am not fixing the Special Olympics!

Hi, guys.

- Hi.

- Hello.

- How are you feeling?

- Not too bad, Mr Stevie.

Were you able to straighten out

the insurance glitch?

Yeah, it's coming along really good.

It's OK if we don't get insurance.

Stavi don't need all his fingers.

No. You need 'em, Stavi.

No, no, it's OK. I look on my bright side.

With not so many fingers, when I'm

gardening, I don't crush the flowers.

I can pick them easy.

God always have a plan.

Look, I promise you,

I'm going to get your fingers back for you.

You're a good man, Mr Stevie.

Stavi Three? Not a hugger.

Children, give Mr Stevie a Stavi goodbye.

Bye, Stavi.

Poor Stavi. He trusted you, believed in you.

He literally gave you his hand in friendship.

Did you know that man's dream

was to play the flamenco guitar?

I'll rig the Special Olympics.

Thank you. Finally, a little humanity.

It doesn't take a smart man

to know what love is.

I love you, Jenny.

- OK. Now you try.

- Try what?

Acting like that.

Come on, man. Start taking this seriously.

- I love you, Jenny.

- Hey! Hey! Commit.

I love you, Jenny.

There, there. Something's missing.

- You should drool.

- OK, Uncle Gary. There you go. Good night.

- Exciting. Isn't it exciting?

- What?

You're acting again.

We ought to come up with a slogan.

A slogan, like,

"Life is like a box of chocolates".

Or, "Take my hands, boss,"

like that monster tard from The Green Mile.

"Monster tard"? What's wrong with you?

What? Since when did "tard"

become politically incorrect?

Good night, Uncle Gary.

I'm going to hell.

My name is Lance, and I like nuts.

My name is Arthel,

and I can count to potato.

Hi, my name is Jerome.

Can I have a slice of your doody?

Hello, my name is Jeffy,

and I like to eat apples.

Boogie-woogie.

- You take care of work?

- Yeah. I got two weeks off.

I told them my Uncle Gary just died.

That's sweet.

Come on, now. Let's not be antisocial.

Hi, my name is Glen.

Guess how many fingers I have.

- Ten.

- No. No. No.

- I have eight fingers and I have two thumbs.

- That's good. An oldie, but good.

Guess what, guess what.

I work at Burger King.

Do you want fries with that?

- What's your name?

- Steve... Jeffy!

Jeffy.

- You talk funny.

- That's cos he's Canadian. Come on.

You know who else was Canadian?

Bill Shatner. TJ Hooker.

And Jim Carrey, the sad clown.

And Alan Thicke, never got him.

And Dave Thomas, not the Wendy's guy,

the other one.

And Alanis Morissette. She has issues.

Hi. My name's Glen.

- God, this is wrong.

- Calm down.

- This is so wrong.

- Will you calm down?

Look, I can't do this.

- You have to. Come on.

- No. Don't make me do this.

- Come on.

- No. No.

Are you all right?

You didn't hurt yourself, did you?

- No.

- Are you all right? Do you need a hand up?

- Do you need a hand up?

- No. Hey. Hurt. Hey.

Can I take just a minute of your time?

You got some schmutz on you.

I'm Lynn. What's your name?

What's the matter, cat got your tongue?

His name's Jeffy.

He's just a little shy.

You know how they are? God bless him.

Cat got my tongue.

Cat got my tongue!

It's a really stupid expression.

Sounds like a bad Dr Seuss title.

- Are you his guardian?

- Yeah, yeah.

It's tough, but someone's gotta feed him,

change his underwear,

show him how to play with his puppets.

Do you have his medical release forms?

We require medical release forms

for all the athletes.

Papers at home.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I got all that stuff. It's at home.

Sorry. I swear, sometimes I think I'm the

one who should be wearing the helmet to bed.

Please, please, don't let

the little guy suffer because of my mistake.

Look at him. Look at him.

He's got his heart set on competing.

Don't you, Jeffy?

Go for gold!

Go for gold!

All right. I'll let it slide for now.

Do you wanna grab

a Powerade or a granola bar?

I just need to talk to your guardian.

Be a good boy, OK?

To place him in the events, I just need to

know his qualifying times and his diagnosis.

Well, he's slow, real slow.

- Jeffy want a V8.

- Yeah. No, the diagnosis.

You should see him

trying to eat a watermelon.

I'm sorry. I mean his medical diagnosis.

Well, you know, Lynn,

technically I'm not a doctor, but...

It's a huge Latin word,

"Symptomus Moronicus... "

Highly functioning

developmentally disabled.

All right. Nice. Jeffy, good for you.

All right. Well, let's

just go sign in, shall we?

Goodbye, Uncle Gary.

Very nice, Troy.

Very nice, Rudy. Good job, you guys.

- Hey, you staying out of trouble, Winston?

- No.

We're this way.

We're going to this room right here.

See if Billy is in.

Hey, Billy. Your roommate is finally here.

- Lynn, Matt wants to see you.

- Thank you.

OK, well, I'll just let

you two get acquainted.

My name's Jeffy.

So are you working on the computer there?

No, I'm walking my dog.

"Kids of Widney High. "

What are they, like NSYNC or something?

Scratch!

Scratch!

My stars, for the love of Liza!

- You scratched my CD!

- Why did you scratch his CD?

Jeffy just admiring it.

Do it again and you'll be admiring my butt

from the pavement with a straw!

- What?

- You heard me.

Thanks, Mark.

A**hole.

Billy, Jeffy's sorry

about the whole CD incident.

You scratched my CD, you know.

I know. And I'm really sorry.

You scratched it.

You picked it up in clear daylight

and you scratched it.

I know. You know, we've established that.

Hey, don't give me 'tude.

You scratched my CD, Tex.

If you'll listen to me, I'm not disputing

that. I'm just trying to apologise.

Bye-bye.

That's my chair.

Come on, get up.

Let's go, come on.

There are five events in the pentathlon.

We'll try you in each one,

so we can assess your ability

and see which athletes to put you with.

- Can I be with Jimmy?

- Pardon?

Jimmy from TV. Jeffy big fan.

Yeah, sure,

as long as you finish in the top eight.

But, you know, hey, if you don't,

I'll still love you.

OK, so here is the 100-metre dash,

and this is your first event, so good luck.

Jeffy, the race.

Jeffy forgot.

Well, go for it. Good luck.

On your mark, set...

- Good luck.

- I don't need luck, ugly. Rudy beat your butt.

Winners, line up for the last race

of the day, the 400-metre dash,

which will determine the final divisions.

Shift your butt! What's he doing?

What are you doing?

On you go!

Greatjob, Jeffy.

You finished eighth.

You get to go to the finals with Jimmy.

I'm very proud of you.

Good thinking, pal. Holding back and

letting seven others beat you. Nice touch.

You want to bet on the Special Olympics?

Why not? It's sports.

- Get this piece of crap out of here.

- Look, look, look.

I owe you 40 grand, right?

Well, 100 grand says that Jimmy

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