Mm.
Mm, Linus.
What time is it, sugar?
Oh, shit!
Shit!
Shit.
Whoa! Shit.
Shit.
Ow!
Shit, shit, shitty, shit.
Oh, shit.
Poop.
Morning, George.
Morning, Mags.
I've been watching it all night for you.
Thanks. You're the best.
Later, gator.
While, crocodile.
Morning, Angus. Hey, Mags.
I'll take the usual.
See you later.
Okay.
Thank you very much. Come again.
I've got a tardy treat.
You know, Mags, if you'd learn how to set an alarm clock,
you wouldn't have to keep buttering me up.
But I like you buttery.
You know how I love dairy products.
Ooh, look, Lettie.
I may have already won $10 million.
Heh!
I've always found Ed McMahon sexy.
Big hunk of a man.
Okay, mildly disturbing.
Oh, great.
Another wedding invitation.
I'm so not buying another bridesmaid's dress.
Oh, good.
Jerry Logan.
Marrying some supermodel, no doubt.
I dated a Jerry Logan once.
Can't be the same one.
Nah.
So, you going?
Hell, no.
I mean, heck, no.
Up all night writing again?
You know, for a girl who doesn't believe in love,
you sure write a lot of fairy tales.
They're not fairy tales.
They're... fiction.
Which, okay, may include an occasional prince
or damsel in distress,
but there's no fairies in any of them.
That's just ridiculous.
Well, just remember what Lettie says.
Paper can't love you back.
Love, schmove.
Besides, I'm a career-minded, independent woman, remember?
I've no time for love.
Yeah, well, this career-minded, independent woman
is going to go home and fix some breakfast for her man.
Oh, tell Charlie I'll be over
for poker on Tuesday.
And this time, bringing my own cards.
Oh, you've got to let Charlie cheat.
It's the only reason he plays.
I wish...
I wish for something.
Anything.
Ta-da.
All right, this is just stupid.
"The wind whipped hard and strong
"along the jagged coastline.
"Suddenly, out of seemingly nowhere,
"Prince Charming appears
"and sweeps the fair maiden he loves so completely
"into his arms and onto the back
"of his trustworthy steed.
They look deep into each other's eyes and..."
Hi.
Are you looking for something?
A book.
Right, a book.
Well, you've come to the right place.
Uh... we do actually usually keep them
on the bookshelves, so...
Right!
The Book Nook. How can I help you?
Magpie.
Hey, sweet petite.
How's married life?
Oh, it's grand, Mags.
You should really try it.
Which brings me to the reason I'm calling.
Okay, great segue.
And the answer is "no". Six-foot...
sandy-blond, the kind of butt that fills out jeans,
but isn't bigger than yours,
and get this, lawyer.
Okay, not a butt girl
and I'm not dating, remember?
Spinster. That's all I'm saying.
First of all, this is not 1687
and we're not in a Jane Austen novel.
And besides, working on my best book yet.
This is the one.
What one?
The one you're actually going to let people read?
The one you're actually going to send to a publisher?
Okay, hangin' up now.
Don't be mad.
Oh, I'm officially mad.
How mad?
About a 72-hour mad.
Okay. I'll call you Friday.
X.O.
Did you find what you were looking for?
By golly, I did!
A first edition of Great Expectations.
By golly, I didn't know we had one.
Oh.
Oh, there's no price in here and--
You know what? We have this policy--
Ring me up when you sort it out!
Wait!
I don't have your number!
Boo.
You suck. Boo!
For my next trick I need a volunteer.
Oh!
Ah, yes.
You, young lady. Please.
Hey, take your top off.
You're not late.
What? I have to be late to bring a pretty lady some flowers?
Oh, well...
Keep 'em coming. Don't stop there.
You're so cute.
Mwah!
What's with you?
Oh, please tell me you met a man.
Oh, I met a man, all right.
Thank you, Jesus!
He wore a cape and a top hat
and he sawed me in half.
Is that some kind of code for sex?
No, silly.
I went to a magic show last night.
And you met a man there?
No man, just magic.
Well, once you find real magic...
pulling bunnies out of hats isn't going to cut it anymore.
Love, schmove.
Blueberry pie today.
Yummy.
You've got to be kidding me.
This is SFO control.
Traffic continuing toward east.
Wow...
This is so cool!
Isn't it glorious?
It's amazing.
Hey, Gillis.
Hey, hey. Oh, Forelli!
The Magster.
How's it goin'? You're lookin' good.
Hey, come on. You hungry?
I bet you're starving. Come over.
I made you lasagna, your favorite with the sausage.
Come on. Ooh, yummies!
I have work to do, though.
Typie, typie. All work and no play.
All right, I'll bring it over in a Tupperware,
but, hey, I want it back.
Don't forget.
I love those little guys.
Uh, and Mags?
Um, Maggie, uh...
I have to, uh--
You see, the thing is--
Wait.
You don't have to say I'm late with the rent again.
Sorry.
I'll have it by Tuesday.
Promise.
Say no more, Magpie.
I'll go get you that lasagna.
You're the best!
I don't know about that.
Not today, Angus.
Hi!
It's your day off, remember?
I know. I'm just looking for something.
What are you looking for, silly.
Well, it's-- it's a book, but it's not really a book.
It's kind of like what should be inside it
if-- if the lamp was real.
Oh, you're just talking crazy.
I mean, it's got to be here, right?
You're supposed to get three wishes, not two.
Wishes?
Have you seen that copy of Great Expectations?
Oddly enough, someone bought it this morning.
Even odder, I didn't even know we had it.
That had my third wish in it.
What are you talking about?
Well, the other day, I was bored out of my wit,
so I kind of rubbed this lamp and I made a wish.
Lamp?
It sort of came true
and I got this magic show ticket
and then I got to go on an airplane ride. Airplane?
And you know how much I love magic and I've always wanted to fly.
It was all in this little book?
Yeah.
It was magic.
Magic?
Yeah... magic.
I don't know. I just thought maybe...
...somebody up there was listening
and thought I deserved a little magic in my life.
You know?
Maybe so, dear.
Oh, maybe so.
I hope your kids know how lucky they are.
Not those devil children.
Mags, I've told you.
Charlie and I have adopted you.
Yeah.
Where were you when I was four?
Everything you went through as a child
has made you the strong girl you are today.
Yeah.
Strong as an ox.
It just would have been nice to have
a mom around to, I don't know...
make me an Easter basket or something.
Just call me Little Orphan Maggie.
I'm going to go.
Mags?
Are you okay?
Yeah.
Strong... ox. See?
I'll see you in the morning.
Oh, um, excuse me.
I bought this book yesterday.
Yeah, we don't take returns.
Um, no, actually, I didn't wish to return it.
I just wanted to-- You just what?
Don't test my patience. Not today.
Excuse me, but are you always this rude, Ms. Malone?
Do I know you?
No.
Well, then, how do you know my name?
Are you a Dickens fan?
What?
I mean, that's a little cryptic, isn't it?
Oh, is that some sort of British expression for--
Hey, hey, hey, hey.
I don't know what you're getting at, Mister,
but if that's some sort of creepy,
weird sexual metaphor, I'm not having it.
Who are you?
Well, I'm just a, uh, messenger,
for lack of a better word.
Have you read this book? Well, yeah.
I mean, not that exact copy, but, yeah.
Yes, well, you have a great deal in common with Pip.
All right, again with the cryptic.
Now you're just getting on my nerves.
What in the Sam Hill are you talking about?
You, Maggie Malone, have a benefactor.
A what-efactor?
A benefactor.
Oh.
This is like one of those--
those-- those setup, joke thingies, right?
And-- and, oh, my God!
You're that Jamie Kennedy guy in disguise, right?
Am I being exed right now?
Oh, my God, where's the camera?
Um, no, no. Ms. Malone, this is, uh--
This is very real.
All right.
Do I look like I just fell off
a turnip truck to you?
I'm so sorry, I don't follow.
I mean, do I look like I have "sucker"
tattooed on my forehead?
Hmm?
Not unless it's written very small.
I mean, do I seem like an idiot to you?
Oh, idiot! Yes.
Um, no! Um--
Look, madam, I'm simply trying to do my job.
There's really no need for you to become hostile.
Doing your job, huh?
Isn't, like, Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy upset
about you honing in on their territory?
What?
Oh! Oh, I see.
An attempt at humor.
No, I am actually legal counsel
for your benefactor.
Okay.
Let say... hypothetically,
that I believe you, which I don't.
What would happen?
Well, uh, you get to have anything your heart desires.
Yeah.
Crazy talk. Not buying it.
Well, those are the rules.
If you obtain the knowledge of the identity
of your benefactor, you will forfeit everything.
Is this the third wish.
I'm sorry. Wish?
Uh... nothing.
I'm just talking to myself.
I do that.
Well, that sounds like a matter for your therapist.
I'll leave you now to ponder this turn of events,
but as instructed, I will be at your home at 7 p.m.
to give you a glimpse of your...
future life.
Hmm. Wrong Dickens book.
Another attempt at humor.
Yes. Jolly good.
All right.
Just hold on there, four-eyes.
You know, you-- you can't just waltz in off the street
and throw out some-- some fancy-schmancy words
with that phony accent of yours
and expect anybody in their right mind
to believe you, Mr...
Brandon. Brandon.
Yeah, like that's your real name.
I mean, how stupid do you think I am?
Fine! Fine, Ms. Malone.
I will go back to my employer
and tell him that you simply weren't
interested in his offer to make you incredibly rich.
Have a nice day. Yeah, you do that.
Okay, let's not be hasty.
Oh, and... wear something formal.
Wait!
You know where I live?
I mean, that's just ridiculous, right?
What is all this nonsense?
I mean, he's just getting my hopes up
in some mysterious benefactor?
I mean, who in the Sam Hill does he think he is?
Right, Linus?
Right?
But I'm just going to get ready, you know?
Just get ready. Just in case--
Just in case it's not all some big hoax.
Formal. Something formal. Do I own "formal"?
What do you think, Linus? Hmm?
Oh, you're really no help at all, are ya?
You've got to be joking.
Well, of course they don't have a lift. No.
I'll just take the stairs.
I've never seen so many steps
in my life.
She couldn't live in a bungalow.
Wow, you actually showed up.
Is this okay?
You look-- You look lovely.
Lovely is good. I'll take lovely.
The-- The dress is very, uh--
Bridesmaid chic?
Yeah, I know. I'm a trend-setter. It's what I do.
Huh.
Not exactly the kind of car I expected you to drive.
It's kinda like the, uh, Batmobile.
Not that you don't bear a striking resemblance to Bruce Wayne.
Sorry, I have no idea who this Wayne character is, but uh--
The car doesn't suit me because it's not mine.
It's yours.
Oh!
Uh-huh. Brandon, George. George, Brandon.
Oh. Hi!
Hello. How are ya?
Nice to meet you. You hurt her, I'll kill ya.
I'm quite sure you would.
Bye! Bye-bye, sweetheart.
You kids have a good time. Yeah.
Do you think we could go somewhere else?
Get a burger or something?
Though the possibility of mad cow disease is appealing,
the answer is no; these were my instructions.
Okay, just for the record, I don't exactly fit in here.
Don't be ridiculous. The only thing that fits in here is money.
And now you have it!
Good evening. Hi.
Um, your best table for the special young lady.
Ah, yes. She's obviously quite special.
Right this way.
Sorry.
Hmm.
I'll send over the sommelier, sir.
Excellent.
Is that the French word for menu?
Uh, no, it's the wine steward.
Right.
Those "sawmilliaires" sure come in handy.
Bonsoir, monsieur et madame.
Bonsoir.
Hi.
Oh. I won't be needing these.
Just thought I'd save the dishwasher some work.
I'll be back to tell you the specials.
What?
Well, you're, um--
You're quite odd. Yeah?
Look who's talking, Mr. Stiff Stiffy Stiff Guy.
Are you quite finished? Yeah, pretty much.
Look, just for the record,
I'm not exactly thrilled with being your attendant.
It's not in my job description,
so why don't we just try and get through this as quickly
and cordially as possible?
Cordially?
Sorry, I couldn't help myself.
Do you think I could at least know a little something
about this mysterious benefactor?
I mean, seriously, the curiosity's kinda killing me here.
No. Come on!
Just a little hint? A small, little, miniscule--
I realize that you can't relate, Miss Malone,
but I follow the rules.
"The rules," do you?
I'm sure you follow "the rules," to a "T", don't you, Brandon?
Pip-pip. Cheerio. Jully good.
Excuse me, but I take my job very seriously.
Besides, I would be dismissed immediately if I said
the slightest thing to you about my employer.
So, yes. I follow the rules.
Rules, schmules. Ah, biting wit.
Hmm.
That waiter wasn't really French.
Sorry.
I probably should have warned you
that I've never actually driven a real car.
Only the simulated kind in Driver's Ed.
Oh, really. I would never have guessed.
Ow!
Um, I just--
I just wanted to say thanks.
I just-- I had the--
I had the time of my life.
And I owe it all to you.
Well, thanks.
Get it? Uh--
Oh, my God. Don't tell me you've never seen Dirty Dancing.
I-- Okay. How about The Breakfast Club?
Come on. You have to have seen
Footloose, right? Afraid not.
"There is a time to laugh, and a time to cry,
and oh, yes, there is a time to dance."
Well, that sounds quite inspirational.
Oh, you mock, because you've never witnessed the power of Kevin Bacon
in a pair of Levi's.
Kevin Bacon? Mm-hmm.
Come on. That's not his real name.
No! Really?
Well, what's his middle name? "Eggs 'n'?"
Eggs 'n' bacon. Mm-hmm.
Wait a minute. Pardon that outburst.
Mm-hmm. There you go.
Wait, no. I told you. This is your car.
What are you, insane? I can't drive this thing.
I'm not gonna argue that. Good. Pick me up at 9:20.
Oh, well, actually, I really can't. More, I--
Oh, and be on time. I never like to be late.
Right. Fine, splendid.
Uh, see you tomorrow, then.
Typical nutty American. Always wanting everything for themselves.
It doesn't matter that I've got a busy day.
How did it go?
Did she enjoy herself?
Oh, yes, well, she seemed to, sir.
I must say, she's rather a different sort.
Very unimpressed by monetary things.
She's unimpressed by $150,000 vehicles?
Well, yes, sir.
And I must add, she befriends street people.
Street people?
Yes, sir. Big, black ones.
I'm terribly sorry, sir, but this really is quite irregular.
My other duties for you are far more important--
More important than what? My priorities?
Or yours?
Sir, she's rude. She's ill-mannered.
Enough!
You have your instructions.
Yes, sir.
Mornin', George. Oh, you're early.
Well, she's all ready for you, huh?
No. Gettin' a ride today. Ah.
Later, gator. While, crocodile.
Him. I should have known.
Hanging with the homeless? Don't be mean. George is my friend.
Quite right. Terribly sorry.
Okay. Come on. Let's go.
I don't like to be late. I don't like to be late.
Yes, I know.
You do realize you can quit this bookstore nonsense now?
Don't be ridiculous. Lettie needs me.
Fair enough.
But you must leave early today.
Why must I, sir?
Please, tell me why?
That is uncanny.
Your accent's remarkable. You could be from my home town.
Really? No.
Thanks for the ride.
Ooh-whee, what have we here?
A man dropping you off?
A rich man, at that. Not how it looks.
It looks pretty good to me. Well, it is pretty good.
But not in the way you're thinking, gutter mind.
He works for my benefactor. Your what-afactor?
Okay, brace yourself. Do you remember the wishes?
Yeah, well, it turns out that I have, for all intents and purposes,
a fairy godmother, or fairy godfather,
who wants to make all my wishes come true.
Wow, that sounds even weirder saying it out loud.
All those Hail Marys paid off.
I never thought that'd work.
But that young man is not your young man.
No, he's just doing his job.
But wow. You barely missed a beat.
This kinda stuff happen every day in your world?
I believe in miracles, honey.
Lettie, do you believe that wishes can come true?
Well, I believe in miracles, so sure I believe wishes can come true.
I've always believed.
I think I'm starting to believe, too.
I wish-- I wish--
I wish for the afternoon off.
Oh, sh--
Good afternoon. We would like some help
with this young lady's attire.
She has a very important appointment this afternoon, for which she must look--
Reasonably presentable?
Actually, I was going to say, more beautiful than she already does.
Why, of course. I'll start pulling some things in her size.
Good. What are you? About a size 26?
Actually, about a four.
European sizes, darling.
Right.
That metric system gets me every time.
Can we please leave? Leave? Why?
I thought girls loved shopping.
They don't like me, Brandon. They're staring at me.
Well, that's because you're stunning.
Thanks.
You're a liar, but thanks.
Okay. Here we are.
Thank you.
Oh, wait. Isn't this where I do that "clothes-trying-on" montage
and that Roy Orbison song plays in the background?
Get it?
Oh, just forget it.
Thanks for lettin' me get the hat. Lettie's gonna love it.
Well, it's your money. Right.
So, what next?
Right this way, madam.
This madam's pantyhose are riding up. Charming.
Good afternoon. May I help you and the lovely lady?
Yes, we would like to open an account for a Miss Maggie Malone.
That's me. Maggie. That's lovely name.
Oh, thanks. My friends call me Mags.
Good to meet ya.
Firm handshake.
Now just exactly what kind of an account would you like to open today?
A very large one.
Ah, my favorite. Please.
Can I have one of these? Help yourself.
Now. Just exactly how large an account would you like to open?
Five million dollars.
Bye, Felix.
So, I'm a five "millionairess," huh? Ooh.
Pretty cool.
It was so nice of him to let me have all these pens.
Wow, these little purses are just useless.
You're genuinely more excited
about the pens than the money, aren't you?
Guess I'm just a simple girl with simple tastes.
Well, whoever told you you were simple lied.
Lettie says that I'm special.
And not like "I ride on the short bus" special.
"The short bus." I presume that's another American thing.
Yes, it is. Stick with me, kid.
I'll teach you all you need to know about smart-ass Americans.
Truly, you are too kind.
Out of order again. Shocker!
Hey. Wait. Look. I'm Debbie Gibson.
Debbie, meet Culture Club.
Oh, I love them. The ruby slippers. "There's no place like home."
It's frightening. Look at this with the price tag still on it.
What is she thinking? Not now. Girls, she needs our help.
It's wrong. Uh, hello? Oh, who's calling? Maggie!
The '80s are on the phone.
They want their entire collection back.
Ha, ha, ha. Very funny.
Wow, Mags. You look great.
Love your shoes, and the hat!
You could really use an amber scarf to offset the whole thing,
but-- Yeah. Could you take a moment from doing running commentary
on my wardrobe to tell me what in the Sam Hill is goin' on here?
We're going through your clothes.
Yeah, I see that. Why?
This is an intervention.
A what?
What exactly are you all saving me from?
Spinsterhood.
Ugh, again with that archaic word.
What prompted you all on this particular night
to leave your happily-married husbands at home,
where you should be doing, you know, happily-married things together,
to come and save your pathetic, poorly-dressed friend.
Lettie called, and we don't think you're pathetic.
Maybe a little.
And what, pray tell, did Lettie have to say?
That some hottie rich guy is interested in you,
and you're dissing him.
"Dissing him"? What are you, a rap star now?
Okay, whatever. Blowing him off. Kicking him to the curb.
Okay, did she include the part about the fact that
he's not even remotely interested, and that it's just business?
Come on, Mags. Tell us the gory details.
Uh, no.
Okay, secretive. Can we at least discuss your excessive overall collection?
Uh, please. Door number two.
And, behind door number one,
all the shoes have rubber soles, or--
have been dyed to match taffeta.
You "smarty-pantses" will be happy to know that I went shopping today.
Is "pantses" a word?
Who cares? What's in the bag?
Mags? Maggie?
Maggie Malone?
Shh! Not so loud.
Feels like there's a thousand games of marbles
going on in my head. Who's winning?
Who cares? Come here. Come here.
What?
What are you-- What-- Oh, oh, oh.
What are you doing? I'm dolling you up.
Why? Because that young man is gonna be picking you up
in about... one minute.
Lettie, are you conspiring behind my back again?
I told you. No dates, no men.
Besides, what makes you think he's even interested in me?
Or better yet, what makes you think I'm interested in him?
I mean, he's not even my type.
So, what is your type?
Hi!
Hi.
This is awkward.
You.
Um, no, um, you are--
Okay, I don't know this game.
Lettie, would you help us out?
She seems to have a little--
Come here, sweetie. Okay. Here you go, sweetie.
Here-- Here--
I just had a little--
Yeah.
Well, as much as I'd like to draw this magic moment out,
we really should be going, so--
Chop-chop. What chop-chop?
Where are we going? You'll see.
I'm in the middle of work, I can't just leave.
Have a lovely day, Lettie. Bye-bye.
Bye now.
Yes!
I can't keep taking days off, you know.
I have a job. Oh, pish-posh.
You're rich, remember?
So what is your type?
Excuse me?
Well, you said I wasn't your type,
so I presume you have one.
A type, that is. Mm. Yeah.
Not really. I don't date.
Really? Why is that?
I don't believe in love. Bloody hell.
That's a bit grim. No, just--
I mean, the whole concept just seems archaic, doesn't it?
Two people spending the rest of their lives together?
What was this, a concept that came into fashion
back when 15 was considered middle-aged?
And how about all those silly rituals?
Something old, something new, blah, blah, blah--
Oh, oh. The best one? My favorite? The throwing of the bouquet.
I mean, seriously. What is the sense in buying
a whole bunch of stupid flowers,
just to have to lug 'em around the whole damn time--
And then to throw 'em mindlessly to a bunch of losers,
who would fight each other to the death to be "the one" to catch it?
I mean, really.
So not a big fan of marriage, then?
What about children?
I'm sure your parents would someday like to hear
the pitter-patter of tiny feet?
I don't have parents.
Right. Oh.
I guess now it's my turn to feel awkward.
Don't worry. I'm not gonna start sobbing or anything.
My mom died when I was four, and my dad gave me up.
Only thing I remember about him was that he had this mustache,
and he used to do these really bad magic tricks.
On Sundays, the nuns would take us into town
and I would go up to every guy with facial hair
and ask him if he was my dad.
How pathetic is that, right?
I'm sure I made a lot of guys really nervous.
Anyway, he's probably shaved it off by now,
and I don't really like to talk about it.
Please don't look at me that way.
What way?
Like you're pitying me.
I'm not. I was--
I was just wondering why you told me that.
I don't know.
It must be the, uh-- the hangover.
Fair enough.
Well, I'm dreadfully sorry, but I'm afraid
I'm going to have to blindfold you now.
What? What kinda segue is that?
All right. Bring it on.
But just for the record, I'm not really into kink, okay?
Yes. Course, I don't believe you for a second,
you randy old goat.
Right. We're good.
Let us go. Great.
Yes. Good? Can you see? Sure. No. Not at all.
Oh! I never should have agreed to this.
All right. But we're almost there now.
Better be. I'm feeling the quease factor.
All right, all right. Bear with me. And--
Stop. Okay. Are you ready?
Voila!
Wow.
Cool!
Oh, this is beautiful!
Though I do find it mildly disturbing
that you would blindfold me to bring me up to your apartment.
Little weird.
Yeah. Yeah, I can see why that would be a little unsettling.
It's not actually my apartment.
It is, in fact, your penthouse.
Here at the Renaissance Park 55, with a maid and room service--
24/7-- I believe that's how you Yanks say it.
Shut up.
I can't live here.
What would I do with all my stuff?
You can't mean all that old rubbish in your flat.
I-I did bring your cat-- Linus, I believe he's called--
He should be around here somewhere. And of course, all of your papers
that were in all of those boxes.
We're such a privacy invader. Oh, thank you.
Uh.
I can't live here.
Though it is really nice.
And they actually have elevators that work.
And I guess I wouldn't have to eat lima beans anymore.
Yes. It would be a terrible shame to say good-bye to the lima beans.
Do you think they'd make me liver?
Foie gras?
For what? Why are you speaking French all of a sudden?
Do you think that they'd make me liver?
I suppose.
Okay, then. Linus and I will stay.
He's a big fan of the liver.
Aren't we all? What?
Nothing. Um, I'm absolutely famished.
Shall I-- Shall I ring down for room service?
Get them to bring us up some afternoon tea? Tea?
If you're hungry, order a sandwich or something.
Oh, and get me one too.
And some aspirin.
I have a headache.
They're so cute!
I almost feel guilty eating one.
But I will.
Ohh! Ohhh... too bad.
Do you think you could refrain
from fingering all of the sandwiches?
Why?
They are called finger sandwiches, aren't they?
I won't even dignify that
with a retort.
Mmm, "retort."
My, we are very upper-crusty, aren't we?
What, are you related to the Queen?
Don't be ridiculous.
Then, my uncle is a duke.
Yeah. Same difference.
All righty, Brandon.
Why don't you tell me a little somethin' about yourself?
Seems only fair since you've, you know,
taken over my life and all.
Huh.
Well. Where do I start? Um...
I went to Oxford. And I graduated
near the top of my class.
And, uh, then I worked at the American Embassy for a year,
which is where I met my current employer.
And then I was uprooted and moved
to this delightful spot two weeks ago.
Hmm. That's nice.
But I didn't really ask for your résumé.
Come on!
Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?
What are your hobbies? Did you have a pet growing up?
Oh, wait. Don't tell me.
You had a dog, didn't you?
Uh, uh, uh!
Saint Bernard.
No. No. Great Dane.
Oh, yeah.
Definitely a Great Dane.
Actually, I had a parakeet...
...named Trina.
I named her after a girl I was madly in love with...
in, uh, in what you refer to as the third grade.
Hmm. Third grade. You started young. Yes.
Well, we-- we didn't exactly date.
Though we did ride the seesaw
every afternoon for three days.
And then, on the fourth day, I came to the park...
and she was on the swings with Nigel Wallingford.
The tramp.
Never quite recovered from that betrayal.
How could you, really?
Yeah.
All right, Brandon.
Tomorrow, it's my turn.
Your turn?
Mm-hmm. I'm gonna show your blue blood
how the other half lives.
Oh. Well, thank you. That's very sweet,
but, um, I simply... cannot...
Oh, you so simply can.
What?! What is this?
No, no, no. This attire just won't do.
Come on. What? Pardon?
What won't do?
See you later, Jimmy.
Well, this is just embarrassing.
Oh, quit your bitchin'.
Can you take this? Thanks.
If you stop complaining, you might actually have some fun, you know.
Fun. Right. Yes. This... looks like a... hoot.
Ready?
As I'll ever be.
Well... Ooh! Ooh!
Oh, Okay.
Oh, my God!
Wait! Wait!
Steer straight!
I can't quite get my feet on.
Oh, my balance!
You are so ill-mannered.
I'm sure the management frowns on--
on littering.
Look around. Littering's encouraged here.
Get off me. Come on, do it.
Do it, do it.
No, I could not possibly, no, no.
All right, fine. All right, you want it?
Oh, my God! I'm so sorry!
I'm-- I'm-- I'm-- I'm terribly sorry.
My first time throwing nuts.
You're right. You're right.
That does feel terribly liberating.
Told ya. See?
Life as a pauper ain't so bad.
You know, I have to say,
I-- I really have had an enjoyable day.
I, uh, I don't think I've had this much physical activity
since Oxford--
first team cricket, you know.
Oh, cricket. Mm-hmm.
That's that cheap imitation of baseball, isn't it?
I beg your pardon!
Cricket came first.
At any rate, what is the logic
with hitting a ball with a cylinder?
A flat object makes a lot more sense.
Oh. God forbid something be illogical.
Mm-hmm-hmm.
Mm, nuts.
All right. Come on, Mr. Logic.
Let's dance.
Well, there's-- there's no dance floor.
There is now.
All right.
Sorry.
All right, come on.
Um...
You know, traditionally, the man does lead.
Hmm, then stop slacking off.
Oh.
Ahem.
So then the monkey gets off the bar stool
and says, "I don't want a daiquiri.
I want a mai tai!"
That is the worst joke I have ever heard.
I know. I read it on a lolly stick.
Wow, look at that.
It's amazing.
Yeah.
Uh, shall I walk you up?
Oh, sure.
Uh, I just usually take the elevator, though.
Oh.
'Cause it's a lot of floors.
Well, I'll ride you up there, then.
No, I mean I'll ride on you up--
No! I--
Uh, I'll escort you to your door.
Right. Great.
Well, here we are.
Yeah. This is my floor.
Right.
Um, thank you for a...
surprising day.
Mm. Did you have the time of your life?
Oh, yeah.
Um... Okay, well, it was really good seeing you again.
Right. Uh, yeah.
Oh.
Ow!
Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry.
I'm Sorry. Really.
That's okay.
Right. Um--
Uh-- Oh.
There you go.
Thanks.
Right. Got 'em.
So I'm gonna go, then. Right.
To my room.
Yeah, well, that would be where to go.
Okay, bye. All right, bye.
Good night.
Mags, can you give me a hand?
Maggie.
I'm thinking of leaving Charlie.
Mm-hmm.
'Cause I've been having this tawdry affair with the paper boy.
I like 'em young.
That's nice.
I'm also thinking of having some lipo,
a boob job, maybe even a butt lift.
What do you think, Mags?
Uh... that sounds good.
Maggie Malone, you haven't heard one word I've said.
Oh. Sorry.
If I didn't know better, I'd say you were in love.
Lookin' all doe-eyed.
What?
No.
Nuh-uh.
But you know, since you brought it up, I mean...
in theory, what would it... be like
if I was in love?
How would I know?
Well...
Listen to Mama.
When I met Charlie,
I didn't know at first.
I mean, I-- he was a friend of my brother's,
and-- and I thought he was kind of strange.
But strange in a good way, you know?
Then one night, when my brother wasn't home,
he came by, and brought me some daisies.
He had on this-- this silly
second-hand yellow jacket...
and white patent leather shoes.
And in that moment, I fell for him.
That night, I-- I couldn't sleep.
I kept thinking what it would feel like to kiss him.
Good Lord, I just had to see him again.
You have those kind of feelings, sweetie?
I don't know. I don't know.
When it's real, you'll know.
Okay.
Let's say it was real.
Then what?
When you meet a man
who gives you the warm fuzzies
all the way down to your toes,
you look him right in the eye
and kiss him.
Well, that's a little forward, isn't it?
Damn right.
It's nothing to be ashamed of
when you're in love.
You've got to go after what you want, no apologies.
Go big or stay home.
That's what I say about it.
Why are you asking me all these questions?
Um...
just research--
you know, for the-- for the new book.
Oh, of course. Research.
Of course I knew that.
You got any more research questions,
you just come to me.
You seem to be spending more time with this girl than originally discussed.
Yes! I know, sir.
It's just that, um--
well, she's-- she's quite fun.
What do you mean, fun?
Well, in an irritating sort of way--
I want this kept business. Do you understand?
Yes, sir.
Good.
What about the manuscripts?
Oh, I had them removed from the hotel this morning,
and everything's going according to plan.
Good.
Have a good one.
Yes, sir.
Hi. Hi.
Thanks.
Thank you. Okay!
Go big or stay home.
So next time I see him, I'm just gonna kiss him.
Gonna kiss him right on the lips.
Maybe even a little tongue.
All right, Mags. Don't get ahead of yourself.
Let's just see how it goes.
Oh! Gee-- hi. I'm--
Wow.
Oh, hello. Hi.
Um, I-I-I-I'm here because I--
I wanted to surprise you.
Hm. Surprise!
Uh, what's the prize?
Uh, um-- well.
Moving right past the kiss to the surprise. Okay.
Uh-- the surprise. Um...
uh... come in! Uh... look around.
Do you, um-- do you notice anything different?
Uh-- um-- hm.
Hmm...
Oh! Is this it? No.
Thank God.
Okay...
Keep looking! Keep looking! Okay okay okay!
New rug! No! Wow! Not even close!
Wow! You're really not good at this game! Mm-hm.
Wow, that never gets old.
Come on! Just tell me! What what what? I give up!
All right. You're all out of guesses. Poor effort. But all right.
Your life's work? The manuscripts? Look around.
They're gone.
Is this... a joke?
No, no, no, no! No joke, Miss Malone.
You are being published.
Well... I don't know what to say.
Well, traditionally-- "Thank you, Brandon!" would suffice.
Thank you.
How dare you?
What?
I mean-- how pathetic do you think I am,
that-that-that you'd have to--
buy that for me, too?
Do you think maybe I might wanna earn that?
You can't buy me success!
No! Megan, no! No!
He and I thought that-- Oh, he! He! It's a he!
Who is he? Just-- come on! Maggie-- I can't tell you that!
Those were the rules! You know that!
You know what? Enough of the rules!
Okay? Maybe you should try breaking the rules,
for once in your life.
Maggie-- I can't.
You can't, or you won't?
It--
Forget it. Hey, wait. No. Hang on a second!
Wait, Maggie. What about the kiss?
The kiss was a mistake, okay? This whole thing has been a mistake!
This is not my life-- Wait, Maggie--! D-Don't...
So she insists on knowing.
I mean, just your name would do, I'm sure.
What is that?
Is that a stain in your tie?
Oh. Ketchup, sir.
Formed quite an addiction to these hot dogs.
Will there be anything else, sir?
No, Samuel. Thank you.
Very good, sir. That will be all.
I don't understand. I mean--
it can't go on this way forever. I myself am curious--
I don't pay you to be curious.
It's not pertinent to my interests.
And your interest, by the way, is not to compromise mine.
All right? It's to serve it!
I got 20 years of research into this. Have you?
What do you think? I can afford to lose her again?
'Cause you can't execute a stupid lousy instruction!
News? Hey, Samuel? Sit down!
I'm sorry. Could you go to my closet
and get him a selection of ties to try on? He's got this stain, here.
Very good, sir.
Hey, Maggie. I'll be right with ya.
Hey, George.
I got something for ya.
What's this?
For years of--
exceptional--
bike-watching service.
See ya. Wha--?
Hey, Maggie! You little canole!
How's it goin'?
Hey.
Oh, almost forgot.
Here's for all that rent I owe you.
And that new roof you've been wanting.
Did you ever think I was scared?
I don't know-- fear of failure?
Fear of success. Whatever those shrinks call it.
I don't know. I guess--
I just never thought I was good enough to be published.
The point is, you're a published writer.
Yeah.
Only catch is, I didn't earn it.
What the--?
Maggie!
Oh my God, it's him!
Maggie!
Please!
Come on!
Maggie, I must talk to you!
How romantic. Oh, he scores points. Very Romeo and Juliet.
And that accent's sexy!
Get away! I don't want him to know I'm in here!
I know you're in there! I saw your bicycle!
Damn it.
Go away! Maggie, please!
I-I-I must talk to you!
I don't talk to liars!
I didn't lie! I-- omitted!
Same difference!
Don't be an idiot! The man is fighting for you!
This knight-in-shining- armor crap doesn't come by too often.
Wait! Stop. Stay. Don't move.
What are you doing?
I want you to know
that you've turned me into a couch potato!
I rented every circa 1980's American film
to try to figure out how to win you back!
I ran across this terribly sappy gesture,
but I thought you'd like it!
And if you don't,
I'll climb up the trellis!
Though I'd really rather not. Looks quite perilous.
Don't bother.
You might break a nail or something.
Just take the stairs.
Stairs?
Trellis would have been easier.
This is so cool!
Oh, no no no no.
You're not watching a blow-by-blow,
play-by-play whatever. Go go go! Out out!
You are a terrible friend. We are old married biddies,
and need to live vicariously through you.
Yeah. Sorry to disappoint.
I'm a terrible friend. Now go. Go! Out. Out.
Hello. Hi!
Good luck.
Um...
Ta-dah!
Very cute.
Now say whatever it is you gotta say.
Okay. Warm welcome.
Well, I'll-- I'll just get straight to it, then.
Umm...
See... the thing is...
all my life, I have sort of thought of myself
as a bit...
passionless, for lack of a better word.
Until... recently.
See...
The truth is, Maggie...
I've... fallen for you.
I... I think about you incessantly,
and, um, I think that I...
...love you.
Now, I-I-I-I realize that
I have a lot to live up to,
what with you writing about princes and whatnot.
And though I may not have rode here on my white horse
-- I can't ride -- um,
I will do everything in my power
to make you feel like a princess,
every day,
for the rest of my life.
Any response to that?
Really, anything at all will do.
Uh--
no.
I mean...
it doesn't really matter what I feel,
or what I don't feel for you.
The reality is,
I can't trust you.
You're right. I won't tell you who the benefactor is.
See? I mean, I don't even know why you came here-- I'll show you.
It doesn't even-- what?
I said I will show you
who your benefactor is.
You will lose all of the money,
and I will be fined, if not disbarred,
for breach of attorney/client confidentiality. But, um...
for you, Miss Malone?
I'm prepared to break the rules.
On one condition.
You let me finish that kiss you started.
Hmm.
That's very sketchy behavior. Mm-hmm.
Trading kisses for information.
Mmm. Extortion. Blackmail, some might say.
But...
But, alas, I seem to have no choice.
I've been, um...
thinking about you incessantly, also.
Really. Yeah.
Well, that works out well. Mm-hm.
Oh. I already spent all the money.
Mm... good lord! On what?
Umm... college.
A new roof. And a security guard.
My God. Big spender!
I can't think of anyone I'd rather live in poverty with.
You say the sweetest things.
All right, enough about...
I am a man of my word,
and I still have to pay out for that first kiss.
So, uh... let's bugger off.
Oh. My sweater.
Wait! I don't have any shoes!
Don't... forget your shoes.
I'll go check the study.
Can't find him.
Who's that?
That's me.
Daddy?
You must be proud. Uh-huh!
Hey, hey. Shh. Calm down.
I'm nervous.
Thanks.
Hi. Hi!
Wait!
Maggie?
Don't make me run.
I've got a bum knee.
You don't recall?
Do you have any recollections of us?
You don't recall when Mommy died.
You and I hit the road, kid.
Like a pair of hobos.
Mom was a...
'Course, we ended up in the street.
How was I gonna button my own shirt, let alone tell you a story?
I gave you to a church.
Just to get my head straight, you know?
I come back after a few months. They deny me access.
Then I go back to the church, to petition the records.
The records are sealed.
I had to get permission. You talk about humiliation.
Had to get permission just to write.
So I wrote.
I wrote you a letter a month, for 10 years, Mags.
You never answered.
I figured you just threw 'em away.
A few weeks ago, I'm in London. I get a call
from some woman named Lettie. She says she found the letters.
Why?
The letters just came too late.
You know how many years I looked for you?
I named my first kitten "Daddy",
just so I could say it out loud.
But I'll call you Bernard, for now.
If that's okay.
That is your name, isn't it? Yeah.
I gotta know one thing, Bernard.
Why the whole ruse?
You know, and Great Expectations and everything.
That was very creative.
Why not just call me up and say,
"Hi. I'm your dad.
"Let's go to lunch."
I guess we get scared.
Right.
It's a common defect.
I would love nothing more than to take you to lunch.
Well, you know, I've kinda got a wedding
to finish in there.
Well...
Shall we?
We shall.
Otherwise, why would he come?
Okay, let's go. Come on, come on.
You take care of my little girl.
I will, sir.
Closed-Captioned By J.R. Media Services, Inc. Burbank, CA