Hey, Cam. Louise, what are you doing here?
You're not dropping out of the League Championship tonight, are you?
Louise is dropping out of the League Championship?
Did you shoot yourself in the leg again? Oh, my God.
We're one win away from my first
sports trophy and then this happens.
All I said was, "Hey, Cam."
So, this year I invited Mitchell
to join my Gay Bowling Team, The Britney Spares.
I came up with the team name,
I designed the shirts. It's not important who gets the credit.
When we first started, my bowling was, well, it was iffy.
But then I practiced and I practiced
until the shoe-rental guy called me "decent."
I'm not here as a teammate. I'm here on official police business.
What?
Please tell me that is not you.
What is that?
Oh, no.
Oh!
Oh.
No, no.
That's Fizbo. With a scary mask.
That's clearly not me. Not him.
No. Who would do that?
Who would take something so beautiful
and turn it into something so ugly?
How did the guy get the costume?
Who knows.
Your father gave it to charity.
By accident.
How did I not hear that fight? Was I in town?
All right, then, case closed. I'll see you guys tonight.
What? No case closed.
We haven't even found the perp.
Look, the only reason I was following up on this
is 'cause I thought it might be you.
Well, yeah, but we have to get my costume back.
We have to restore Fizbo's good name.
But we're still gonna go bowling, right?
Wow. You give away my beloved alter ego
and you won't even allow me 30 seconds to have an emotional reaction.
Yeah. No, it sounded fast as I was saying it.
And now, for the finishing touch.
Franks for Frank.
Dad's bachelor party is gonna be epic.
You couldn't see it. That's why.
Chicken wraps,
white wine, fudge.
Is this a bachelor party
or a party where ladies sit around watching The Bachelor?
And, why did you get me a XXXL?
The lady said it's gonna shrink in the wash.
How's it gonna do in the trash? Jay.
Kidding. I'll use it to wash my car.
My dad is marrying my old babysitter, Lorraine,
who has a son, which means
that I am finally getting a brother.
When I was young, I wanted a brother so much,
my folks got me bunk beds.
At night, I'd pretend he was up there and talk to him,
and when he didn't answer back, I always just figured,
"Well, Marty's in a mood again."
Excuse me. Do you serve crabs here?
We serve anyone.
Jokes only get old because they're good, right?
Nailed it.
Phil, this is Ray.
Wow. I guess we're gonna be brothers.
Bring it in.
Oh. No... Oh! What's happening?
We're brothers. Isn't this what brothers do?
I don't know but I love it!
No. This guy totally tried to touch my ding-dong.
I didn't know it was that kind of party.
I guess you didn't see the white wine and fudge.
White wine? That's not gonna get me there.
Am I the only one who sees me choking that guy out tonight?
I don't know. I got a good feeling about Ray.
And I felt a lot of him.
He's just a little wound up from the drive.
I'm sure you'll find he's a real solid citizen.
The sap across the hall left his door open.
That's my room.
Oh. So I guess you'll need these.
Before we start, thanks for agreeing
to do this read-through of my latest play,
A Withering Farewell Under A Harvest Moon...
So catch... ...colon, The Tears of Angels.
So catchy.
Right? It's a story of four women who come together
to mourn the loss of a family patriarch.
Oh, no. So sad. So very sad.
Pace yourself, crazy. We haven't even started yet.
A man died, Claire.
A fake man. And if he was a patriarch,
he was a fake old man and old men die.
Surely this is a thought
that has occurred to you from time to time, huh?
Please don't make me part of this.
Anyway, when it's over, feel free to share your thoughts.
What you liked? What you loved?
But also the negatives, what went over your head
any word you didn't know.
I'm submitting my latest play to a young Playwright's Festival.
But I wanna hear it out loud first
to be sure I've hit all my emotional marks.
One might ask, why all female characters?
Well, let's just say, write what you know.
Wait, to clarify. I understand women.
I don't feel like I am one.
A hundred and ten pages? What time
are we supposed to get out of here?
Oh, honey. You got a hot date tonight?
Mom, don't be mean.
Ignore her.
I actually am in a relationship.
But I've been hiding it from everybody because
I have once again chosen somebody
that is completely inappropriate.
It's this older guy, Ben.
He works for my mother and he lives with his mother.
I'm like a moth to a flame.
If the flame is an underachieving man-child
with a Tasmanian devil tattoo on his butt.
Sorry, this is going to take longer than I expected.
Can you wait there? Sure.
My mom's got her poker girls over anyway.
This one lady, Karen, she gets real handsy with me.
She's not un-hot, either.
She's like an older, curvy, Emily Blunt.
But Indian.
Don't try to make me jealous, Ben.
One of my regulars at the coffee shop is always asking
if I wanna do some motor boating.
If I didn't get seasick, I'd go.
Now, okay,
I don't wanna get ahead of myself
but does the trophy have each of our names
or is it just the team name 'cause I kind of want one of my own.
But you know what? No, never mind. I'll just get it engraved.
Okay, How can you be thinking about bowling at a time like this?
You mean, as we are going into our bowling championship?
Oh! Text message.
Read text message.
You have a message from Martin.
I keep picturing you guys holding the trophy later tonight.
Just kidding. You're not invited to my Victory party. Ha-ha.
Hello, Martin.
Hello, Cameron. Hello, Mitchell.
Where's the rest of the Britney Queers?
It's the Britney Spares, Martin.
The Britney Queers were eliminated weeks ago.
Yes, by us.
Eventually, all will fall to the Gay City Bowlers.
I forget. Do all the names have to be puns?
Yes. It's like hair salons.
Unpleasant as always, Martin.
I'll see you in the alley.
I'm sure you say that to a lot of men.
Mitchell! Fizbo!
What? Over there!
Cam, do you think it's possible
with how upset you are about Fizbo,
that maybe you're seeing things?
Oh! No. Maybe it's another guy with purple hair and a size 23 shoe.
Maybe Dennis Rodman bowls here.
And, we begin.
"Lights up in the living room of James Pickett.
The furnishings and art tell us he was a wealthy man
but his money couldn't buy taste.
Enter, four women in black returning from a funeral.
First, James' widow
Chloe Dubois-Pickett." That's me.
"A beautiful French commoner who married up."
Ooh, la, la.
"Next is Bailey, the granddaughter
cute as a button and just as smart."
I like her.
"Following her is James' sister, Professor Alma Diller, 60s.
There's no problem she can't solve except her own loneliness.
Finally James' daughter, Kate,
attractive, intense, sharp tongued
fleeting moments of warmth."
Fleeting moments of warmth?
I get it. This is the story of the four of us
through some sort of distorted Manny lens.
Yeah, just because I'm smart I end up a spinster?
You know what I could be doing right now, if I didn't get seasick?
Okay, calm down. These characters are a compilation
of many other women I've known. Not you people.
Okay, let's start.
"Kate enters and crosses straight to the credenza.
As she pours herself a much needed glass of wine..."
Mmm.
All right. "To be honest,
I can't believe the old grump didn't die years ago."
Nice. My first line is something horrible about my dead dad.
How cold do you think I am?
Didn't I just say it's not you?
Isn't it though? What?
"Old people die. Get over it."
That was like 20 minutes ago.
Okay, now hang on... Is this like a whole thing?
So, I'm just gonna grab a water real quick.
Oh, come on.
Who are you texting? Nah! No one.
I'm just reading my horoscope.
Liar. Why would anyone read their horoscope so late in the day
when everything's already happened?
There is a dude, isn't there?
What? No.
Sneaking off with your phone. The clean hair,
your one bra that fits properly, spill.
Ugh! Okay, fine. There is a dude.
Oh, God. He's not another high school boy, is it?
No, he's legal. He's just embarrassing in a different way.
You know you've been like this your whole life?
Ashamed of the romantic, sexual part of you?
Honestly, it seems like you think
you don't deserve it but you do.
And if this guy is fun and good to you,
and doesn't ride a scooter, then it'd be okay.
Haley. Thanks.
Ladies, I don't know what emotional
thing is playing out right now,
but how about you save it for over there?
And then I sent you the cutest video
of a puppy nursing on a mama lion,
and what do you text back,
"She's getting him fat so that he tastes better at lunch"?
Yeah, So what? My crime is I'm hilarious?
Can we get back to this, please?
Kate just said she couldn't believe
her father didn't die sooner then...
"The widow Dubois slumps in a chair, emotional."
"Ma cherie.
Your papa would be devastated
to hear you say such insensitive things."
Really? You're gonna do the whole accent thing?
Lo and behold.
What do we see?
The queen of spades is gone.
Where could she be?
In Frank's pocket. I saw you put it there.
So it is.
Great trick, Phil.
Nice assist, Ray.
I thought this was supposed to be a bachelor party.
Where's the female entertainment?
Oh, don't you worry about that.
♪ Mr. Sandman
♪ Bring me a dream
♪ Make him the cutest that I've ever seen
♪ Give him two lips like roses and clover
♪ And tell him that his lonesome nights are... ♪
What are you doing?
Calling time of death.
Oh, not you, ladies. You're still very vital, of course.
Hey, we really appreciate all the riveting
you did during the war.
Dad was enjoying them.
Just as well,
I'm about to be married.
I don't need to be tempted by all those bum, bum, bums.
Was that it for the planned activities?
No, we're just getting started.
For the next hour, it's a $5 buy-in game of Uno.
Then downstairs to Captain Scupper's
the best oysters in the desert
and finally, put on your neckties, gentlemen
'cause I have four balcony seats
to Mr. Neil...
Please say "Diamond."
...Sedaka.
What a night.
Oh. We need some ice. I'll be right back.
What the hell is Uno?
Sort of a thinking man's Crazy Eights.
Instead of playing cards up here,
there is a casino downstairs
with actual big-boy drinks.
I'm right behind him.
We'll grab Phil on the way.
Or, wouldn't it be fun for him
to try and find us?
Oh! He'll love that.
Hey, Louise. I just saw that psycho
impostor clown out by the dumpster
giving me threating looks.
Look, Flouncy... It's Fizbo.
I'm talking to you.
I don't have time for your clown nonsense.
We've got a championship to win.
I'm gonna go warm-up with the Pindigo Girls.
Why does this have to be happening today?
Mitchell,
maybe it's happening because it's today.
Maybe somebody is trying to get
my head to throw me off my game.
Oh, honey, do you really think people care enough...
You know what? There are six people just in my eyesight
that would do anything to break my winning streak.
For instance, Martin.
He's never forgiven me for making him feel
like your father was in love with him.
Okay, it couldn't have been Martin,
we saw him like three seconds before you thought that you saw...
Actually saw. What is this about my dad?
Fine, it's not Martin.
But it certainly could be Senor Kaplan.
Uno, dos, tres,
cuatro, cinco, seis.
Hola, Senor Kaplan.
If you're here to talk trash, I'm not interested.
Where were you 20 minutes ago
and can anybody account for your whereabouts?
Not that it's any of your business,
but I happened to be in the photo booth taking some solos.
I'm gonna use number three for my new passport.
I would use two, there's a twinkle in your eye.
But I have a different theory as to where you were 20 minutes ago.
And it would have given you exactly enough time
to change out of the clown costume
into your bowling outfit...
What's wrong?
No, no, I just saw Fizbo in the mirror.
I don't know what's going on with you, Tucker.
But in my culture, we like to call it, "Loco en la cabeza."
Okay, knock it off you're Canadian.
"You all seem to forget I'm not alone.
I have Albert.
You can search the world and I defy
you to find a more devoted loving...
...parrot."
"I use to like talking to Albert.
But then we got into a fight over a cracker."
"Kate whispers to Bailey as they watch
the widow sadly plunking notes on the piano."
"How long do we have to stay with her?
We can leave now, right?"
"I knew when your papa die,
I would never see you again."
"No matter what I do you refuse to accept
that I accepted you."
"Mais non, I'm sorry, I just so emotional today."
"But of course you are, Chloe.
And I'm sorry if I made you feel like an outsider."
"I love you, you know.
Je t'aime."
"I love you too."
Blackout.
Bravo!
Really, Manny?
My character gets into a fight with a parrot over a cracker.
I told you that story in confidence.
And for the record,
I'm nothing like my character.
I'm not lonely at all. I have tons of options.
I'm actually going to see one right now.
And thanks to Haley, I'm no longer ashamed talking about him.
Who is it? No one.
What's his name? Nothing.
Well, if that's it for the feedback.
No, actually... Oh, yay.
...for me, the ending felt a little trite.
There's a lot of good stuff in there
but the whole "I'm sorry, I'm sorry,"
"I love you, I love you" I just...
I think women are more complicated than that.
Don't listen to her, Manny.
The ending was beautiful.
It's just that some woman have a hard time
expressing their feelings.
Oh, this again? Gloria, I'm a very feeling person.
Oh, really? From the woman that writes in my birthday cards
"Best, Claire."
How is that not warm? I'm wishing you quite literally the best.
I am a person in your family.
I am not a woman that does your eyebrows.
Why would I send her a birthday card?
The question is,
why can't you write "Love, Claire"?
I write "Love, Gloria."
I even dot the "I" with a huge heart.
I tell you that I love you, and you say "Me, too."
Why? Why can't you tell me that you love me?
I don't know why I can't tell you that.
I... There was time I wanted to,
and then the moment passed and time went by
and then it just felt forced.
You say it all the time.
One can argue that dilutes it.
So now it's my fault?
I am lashing out at you because this is not the first time
I've been accused of this.
I am sorry I haven't said it before, Gloria,
I love you.
Okay.
My God, you're right. It is trite.
You got this, Sam.
Come on.
You, on the other hand, throw one more gutter ball
and I will literally frame you for murder.
No pressure.
I wonder what that's about.
Oh!
You two seem awfully chummy.
Well, if by "chummy," you mean,
"in the throes of an electric sexual relationship,"
then, yes, you bet your bowling balls we're chummy.
Oh, my gosh.
I just put it all together.
You're both Fizbo.
When I'm with one of you, the other's wearing the costume
creating the perfect alibi.
Light-bulb moment.
This clown thing again. Look, Tucker.
If I wanted to get back at you
for, oh, I don't know, say something like,
setting me up with your straight father-in-law,
I certainly wouldn't do it by stealing your stupid Bozo suit.
It's Fizbo.
Way to take the high road, sweetie.
First, I'd hack your emails,
then I create several fake social media accounts
which I would use to mount the multi-pronged smear campaign
to drive a wedge between you and everything you love.
Wow.
Maybe a bit of a red flag.
And then I'd get several credit cards in your name
and then embark on a massive identity-theft scheme
that would leave you bankrupt
and, with any luck at all, facing criminal charges.
That's what I'd do.
Okay. She's a bit of a handful, huh?
I was thinking we should take a beat
on meeting your parents this weekend.
What do you say? All right.
What?
Bravo! Bravo!
If you think your little over-the-top revenge monolog
is going to throw me off your scent,
then you are sorely mistaken.
Now, open your bag.
What?
All of you, open your bags.
Cam, you gotta stop.
Open them! Hey! Hey!
You're paranoid. You're paranoid.
No one is dressing up...
Damn it! I hate when you're right.
What? There he is.
Chase him. Get him.
Stop!
Impostor!
Close your door, man, we're in pursuit.
Okay, okay, okay. Thank you.
Okay.
We lost him. Wait, his mask.
It smells like beer and cheese fries.
Oh, Mitchell, that's good investigative work.
You've narrowed it down to everyone in the bowling alley.
Uno.
There you are. We're been looking all over for you.
Did you check in here? In the room where the party is?
Don't worry, we didn't forget about you.
Boop!
I hope it was worth it. We missed
our reservation at Captain Scupper's.
Don't worry, Phil, we ate.
Pit boss sent some shrimp cocktails over to our craps table.
Along with some regular cocktails. Am I right?
You had to be there.
I get it, you had shrimp and drinks.
Now, if it's not too much trouble,
maybe we can get back on schedule.
We don't wanna miss Sedaka's opening act,
"Extremely Little Richard."
Good golly, is he small?
Change of plans I traded those tickets
for seats to Sexcalibur.
You what? It's a dirty Medieval Times.
Are you kidding me?
It's okay, Phil.
I waited 79 years to see Neil Sedaka.
I can wait another 79.
No, Dad, you're being too nice.
This is your bachelor party not yours.
You're ruining this whole night.
You ruined it when you planned it.
And get that finger out of my face.
Nobody hijacks my dad's party.
And nobody tells me where to put my finger.
Boop!
Here we go.
I wanted a brother when I was ten, not a ten year old brother.
You're the baby.
You're older but you're the baby.
You're no Marty.
Not much of a fight but maybe we should...
I know I thought it was gonna get good.
All right, that's enough.
Phil, you're being ridiculous.
Ray, I don't know you but you seem like a horse's ass.
All right, now! Grow up!
Start acting like gentlemen.
Would you two mind stepping out in the hall for a second?
I need to have a word with Phil.
All right, but hurry up.
We don't want to miss the unlacing of the first wench.
I really appreciate all you've done
arranging my party but, you know,
I'm happy doing whatever.
Is something else bothering you?
I don't know.
So much is changing, Dad.
I guess I'm kind of afraid that this is the end an era.
Now I have to share you with Lorraine, with that.
You're not losing me.
As a matter of fact, you're gonna be seeing a lot more of me.
Lorraine and I have been kind of kicking around the idea of
moving to California.
To be closer to me? Yes.
It will be further from Ray.
Hey, Louise.
We just saw evil Fizbo again.
It's true. I was there. We lost him in the parking lot.
Yeah, we looked in every car.
Geez, Louise, there has to be something you can do.
Fine. First thing tomorrow, I'll look into it
if you can focus on bowling.
I can. There you are.
I've been looking all over for you. It's your turn.
Sorry, I was in the ladies room.
I was putting IcyHot on my hammies.
Mmm.
Oh!
Did you do something to your hand?
I just hurt it playing air hokey.
They got rid of the air hockey table months ago.
No, I mean...
Wait a minute.
You go missing,
then you mysteriously hurt your hand
and then, okay, there is lipstick in this mask
and it is the same shade as the lipstick on your beer.
You're Fizbo?
You wear lipstick?
But you're on our team.
Why would you do this?
Because you bug me.
That's it?
You picked the team name, you designed the shirts,
you take all the credit. Everything is about you.
You messed with his head so that
he loses the team championship.
Yeah, opening the door for you to be captain.
I should be captain.
Give me my Fizbo.
You get out of my face.
Wait, wait. Hold on, hold on.
Is there still a chance we can still win this?
Not unless we can pick up 57 pins in one frame.
Yeah. But you get out of his face.
Hello, fruit of your father's loins.
"Mitchell's" fine.
You know, speaking of Jay...
You brought him up.
Well, your father and I had a moment.
A couple of years ago,
when he was pretending to be gay
so that he could bowl in our league.
I know he said it was all an act
but what I felt from him,
it was just so very real.
Okay, Martin, I hate to break this to you,
but my dad is potentially the straightest man on the planet.
Yeah, but that notwithstanding,
do you think maybe you could give me his phone number?
It's just always felt like an unfinished business to me.
I am not giving you his phone number.
I'll give you my trophy. It's 3-1-0...