Attention staff, the annual Childrens Hospital
fundraiser gala will start tonight at 6:00 p.m. sharp.
The host of this year's fundraiser
will be the one and only suspense thriller novelist
Dean Koontz.
- Dean Koontz! - What?!
I have all his books.
- And... - Hey!
He said, "and."
...that is all.
Oh, there it is.
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We'll see you on the other side, old friend.
No, I am not nervous because
the rich benefactors are gonna see Dean Koontz,
and they're just gonna write those checks.
Oh, yeah.
And all we got to do is take those checks to the bank,
fill out a deposit form,
wait in line for the next available teller,
give her the checks,
show her a form of government-issue I.D.,
and then the next day...
Wait in line for the next available teller,
give her the checks, assuming that it is a woman,
show her a form of government-issue I.D.,
and then the next day...
If the deposit is made by 6:00 p.m.,
second business day if after that, we get the money.
Literally exactly how it will happen.
Sy, what's Dean Koontz's phone number?
I want to call him to arrange his travel from the airport.
You are gonna call Dean Koontz?
- Mm-hmm. - A nurse?
That is so funny I forgot to laugh.
I literally can't remember how to do
what is normally an automatic reflex.
I will call Koontz, not a nurse.
Good luck with that, Sy. But you know what?
Don't tell Koontz that there's an anonymous blogger
who writes scathing reviews
of Childrens Hospital staying here.
Hi, you've reached Dean Koontz...
An anonymous blogger. What blog?
TheLongTermCareWing.com. Everybody reads it.
But it's just some kid who writes scathing reviews
of the hospitals he's staying in
because he's bitter about dying young.
But Lola, if we get a bad review,
no one is gonna write us a check.
And if we don't get the checks,
then we can't drive to the bank
and fill out a deposit form and --
TheLongTermCareWing.com, huh?
Yeah.
Oh, I think I know where to find this dying kid.
Nurse Beth, everything has to be perfect.
No! This goes there, that goes there.
Are you the hospital administrator?
- What, are you writing a book? - Well...
Why don't you leave the questions
to those people who do write books,
like supernatural mystery writer Dean Koontz.
Besides, I'm busy.
I do write a blog.
Hi.
Sy Middleman.
I am the head administrator.
What can I do to make your stay
right here in this hospital better?
I need a bed closer to an outlet.
A lot of people read my blog,
and I need to keep my devices juiced.
You stay right there.
All right, young man, come with me.
I'm dizzy.
We're just doing a little regular relocating.
No, no, no, no, no.
Let's get you out of this stuffy room
while nurse Beth cleans up this kid's filth.
And zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom.
I still feel dizzy.
I'm gonna take Terry on a tour.
- Huh? - I'm taking Terry on a tour.
Huh?
Terry on a tour!
Terry on a tour.
Here we go. Terry on a tour.
We're touring, Terry.
Huh?
And this is my favorite second-floor hallway.
It's the linen closet.
I want to tell you something -- state of the art.
Is that the cafeteria? I'm starved.
Yeah, you don't want to eat that garbage.
I mean, the food is great. It's the garbage that's awful.
Actually, I changed my mind.
I'm gonna go back to my room and write that review
before the fundraiser tonight.
No, you don't want to write a review before dinner,
because, as a special surprise,
our chef Philippe is making us a private meal.
Oh, and he is French.
Whoa!
Did you just say that your chef was French?
What are you, a cop?
Why don't you leave the interrogations
to guys like Detective John Calvino,
the harried cop in Dean Koontz's number-one bestseller
What The Night Knows.
Well, I do write a very popular blog
called TheLongTermCareWing.com.
What did you just say?
I thought you were the blogger.
Yeah, hundreds of middle-age men flock to my site every week
to see videos of cheerleaders falling down.
So, it's settled then. Dinner for three?
Yeah. It was on the tip of my tongue.
Dinner for three. Excuse me.
Oh, getting some foot stomping in
before the big night, huh, Sy?
That's your thing.
You don't know me.
Ooh, I'm wearing a tux to the fundraiser
because I believe in gender-neutral formal wear
and also because my body is a terrifying mess.
I'm not even gonna go.
I'm probably just gonna hang out and do my thing.
What's this "thing" kick you're on?
Everybody's got a thing, like your thing is
drinking from a bottle of extra-strength laxative 24/7.
What's your thing?
My thing is pointing out other people's things.
And that thing, it's like-- it's like the king of things.
Well, I'll do my thing.
You do your thing.
Ahh!
Attention staff,
Bob Odenkirk played a lawyer on Breaking Bad.
That is Saul. [is all]
Oh!
Nurse Beth, no questions.
You're gonna be my waiter.
All right. Let's go over mise-en-place.
Now, in order to emulate the French style of cooking,
I have whipped up a five-course meal on my own
using a five-course meal from Boston Market,
which I had delivered from Boston Market on my own.
Perfect.
What if Koontz walked by
and saw an open flame at a children's hospital?
Oh, gentlemen, what perfect timing.
Please, be seated.
Huh? How are you?
Why aren't the candles lit?
What aren't the candles lit?
Beth!
Would you be so kind as to light the candles, waiter Beth?
Thank you.
Okay with the bowing.
Thank you.
Thank you!
Where's chef Philippe? We'd love to meet him.
You want to meet chef Philippe?
He's right here. Please, one minute.
Un moment.
Hi, chef Philippe.
Do you have a minute?
Oh, no! Are you crazy, Sy?!
But these two young guys,
they want to meet you.
I do not care! They'll meet my cuisine!
Did you hear that?
Did you hear him?
He said "do not" instead of "don't."
You know why?
Because French people are the only ones
who shun contractions like that.
You wanted to meet the chef.
You heard the chef.
He's in there. Moving on.
That didn't sound like a real French accent.
Trust me. This food will sound French...
to your mouths.
Bon appétit.
Gentlemen, please enjoy
typical French meatloaf
with country gravy!
With the bowing.
Guess what, everyone? I've got a thing!
Sy, the fundraiser's running an hour late!
- Where's Koontz? - Where's Koontz?
Where is Koontz?
Koontz is, uh... Koontz is coming.
You did arrange his travel from the airport, right?
Ha! Me, arrange travel like some kind of nurse?
That's so funny I forgot --
I forgot to call Koontz!
Sy, what's for dessert?
What's for dessert?
Ah, I guess I'll have to call Koontz.
Go ahead. Call Koontz.
Beth, dessert!
Here you go, boys.
A milkshake with two straws
so you can "Lady and The Tramp" it up.
Yum.
Sy, why'd you take
my glass of extra-strength laxative?
Hold it!
Hey!
I'm lactose dependent. Live with it.
I just got off the phone with Koontz. Lovely man.
He'll be here in 15 minutes,
but all the donors are about to leave.
You have to keep them here.
No! I'm gonna keep them here!
Can you imagine that?
A nurse trying to keep the donors here?
Tell me everything that's happened up to this point.
No, no, no.
Hey, everybody. No, no, no. Please.
Please, keep your seats, and thank you for your patience.
You've all-- You've all come here to see Koontz,
and he's here.
And you can see him.
But he's...
behind that curtain.
So... you'll see him in a-- in a minute.
So, Dean Koontz...
I am so sorry.
Thanks for coming.
Want to rethink your donation?
Thanks for serving.
I just want to let you know I just posted a terrible review.
Can't wait to read it.
And tell chef Philippe we enjoyed the meal.
He'll love knowing that.
Excuse me. My name is Dean Koontz.
Yes, you are.
Did I... miss the fundraiser?
Yes, you did.
Oh. That's too bad.
Yes, it is.
Nice hospital.
Now it's yours.
Ah, there's Koontz...
with his keys...
doing his thing, huh?
Classic Koontz.
I'm a really big fan.
Sync & corrections by dwigt addic7ed.com