Edgar: Gretchen, will you please pass the syrup to your boyfriend?
Jimmy: We're eating!
Edgar: What? You're boyfriend-girlfriend now, right?
Gretchen: Sounds so high school.
Edgar: Then what do you call each other?
Your honey? Your boo?
Jimmy: What are we, gay lovers from the '80s?
Gretchen: We're not calling each other anything. We just made a verbal agreement not to sleep with other people. For now.
Jimmy: In a week, we could remember that monogamy is a social construct free of biological necessity.
Gretchen: Or we could be invited to a really fun s*x party.
Remember group s*x, Jimmy?
Remember group s*x?
Jimmy: Actually, I've never...
Gretchen: What?! Not even a standard threesome?
Edgar: Oh, Jimmy.
Jimmy: You've had a threesome?
Edgar: I'm an adult male in my 30s, so, yeah.
(Gretchen and Edgar giggle)
Anyway, uh, Lindsay and I wanted to celebrate y'all making it official, so I made a dinner reservation for four at 8 o'clock.
Oh, hey, I almost forgot. This package came for you.
Edgar: That was weird.
I guess I should go give him one of my famous Edgar Quintero pep talks.
Ha-ha! That's your job now.
Gretchen: What? Ew. Why?
Edgar: Because you're his lady.
Behind every great man there's a great woman.
Or, you know, someone like you. Go.
I think it's time you got to know the real Jimmy.
Gretchen: Do I have to?
♪ I'm gonna leave you anyway I'm gonna leave you anyway ♪
♪ gonna leave you anyway. ♪
(Jimmy clears throat)
You've sold out of my book.
It just goes to show that with patience and strong word of mouth, true literature...
Manager: You've been remaindered, Jimmy.
Your books are probably being turned into hamster bedding right now.
Well, that seems premature.
Manager: Well, if we suddenly get a big rush for it, we can always send people to the dollar bin at costco.
Jimmy: Oh, you would buy your food in bulk.
Is that the lesbian from Roseanne?
Manager: Yeah. Unlike you, she wrote a book that's selling actual copies.
Jimmy: Oh, of course she did.
Did they give Darlene a book?
Let's give Becky two a book!
I look forward to your married with children cast poetry slam.
Gretchen: Dana from work liked my 'gram of the baby sneaker in the gutter.
Jimmy: And her lnternet approval is meaningful because...?
Gretchen: I like her and I don't have a lot of female friends.
I think women are intimidated by me because I have mean cartoon eyebrows.
Gretchen: So, uh...
What's new? Listen, if something is bothering you and you want to talk about it, I will listen.
Or if you just want to pretend that nothing happened, that's totally fine, too.
Jimmy: It was a package from my dad.
A Manchester jersey.
I don't even like sports... Especially Manchester, the team that ruined every Saturday of my entire childhood.
Also, I sent him a copy of my book, like, months ago.
He didn't say anything about it.
Instead, he sends me gareth Henderson gear.
Gretchen: Well, great.
I'm glad you got that off your chest.
Look! Lena Dunham's dog got a haircut.
Jimmy: I mean, does he think that after, what, 30-odd years on this planet, I'm magically going to start sharing his interests in...
Edgar: Uh, still waiting for our friends.
How are you?
Lindsay: No one ever asks me that!
But since you did, I cheated on my husband with a 19-year-old, named Aiden.
Edgar: Wow... Do you feel guilty?
Lindsay: Ooh, good question. Honestly, I kind of feel like two different people right now. There's wife Lindsay who helps Paul with gravestone rubbings on his genealogy trips.
And then there's adulteress Lindsay who just wants to sit on everyone's face.
Edgar: Sometimes I feel like there's veteran Edgar and regular Edgar.
Lindsay: So feeling like this is normal?
Edgar: Maybe. Although, I do have a traumatic brain injury.
Lindsay: Me, too!
Lindsay: One time I was at a rave and I stared at a strobe light so long I forgot how to whistle.
What'd you do today?
Lindsay: Oh, my God!
Edgar: With Gretchen around, I don't have much to do for Jimmy anymore.
I feel this is, like, a new chapter in my friendship with him.
Hey, this is nice.
I can't remember the last time Jimmy asked me a question about myself.
Lindsay: I've been trying to talk to Gretchen about Aiden for days.
Edgar: We should just ignore them tonight until they ask about us.
Lindsay: Ooh, I love that.
Like an experiment, but without the boring science part like milligrams and elements and sh1t.
Edgar (Chuckling): Great!
Lindsay: They're not showing up, are they?
Edgar: I don't think so, no.
Jimmy: I wrote a novel and still there's no response from him.
He's barely literate, so who knows if he could even read it, but if he did manage to sound it out, it'd just be nice to hear that he was proud of me.
Are you listening to me?
Of course. I just, I listen better when I have something to do with my hands.
That bikini top doesn't have straps.
Gretchen: Oh, good call.
My eyes always go straight to the bush.
Gretchen: I know it's, like, my "job" to be there for him, but at one point, I thought he was gonna cry, and I was like, "this is it. I'm never going to be able to have s*x with him again." I just don't think I'm equipped to handle this part of a relationship.
I will sample the aztec vanilla.
Wallace: It's do-it-yourself now.
One sample cup per customer.
So I guess you guys feel pretty...
Lindsay: I know what you mean about emotions.
Ever since I cheated on Paul, I've been feeling hella guilty.
Wallace: You can't reuse the sample cups.
Lindsay: Part of me thinks I should just tell Paul.
What do you think?
Wallace: It's like you guys willfully don't even hear me.
Lindsay: I could just take this one to the grave. Like Titanic said, a woman's heart is an ocean of secrets. Right?
Hello? Are you even listening to me?
Gretchen: Yes, totally. I just listen better when I have something to do with my mouth.
Lindsay: So, what do you think I should do?
Gretchen: Honestly, Linds, I wasn't gonna say anything, but I can't take it anymore.
First, you get these new berkin-toting westside friends with fake teeth and even faker tits.
And then the minute I get a...
Gretchen: Ugh! As soon as Jimmy and I become a thing, you go out and start taking dicks.
Can you imagine how abandoned I feel?
Lindsay: I'm sorry, Gretchen. Wait, why am I apologizing to you?
You stood me up last night.
Dana: Hey, bitch!
Dana: Ready to go back to work?
Lindsay: Um, who is this?
Gretchen: This is my work wife, Dana.
Lindsay: You're work-married?
Dana: Come on, wifey.
There is ice cream cake in the office kitchen.
Gretchen: Cake? Eat a dick, yogurt.
Wallace: Ma'am, could you not do that?
Can you just buy something?
Lindsay: I can't believe they flaked again.
Why are they treating us like this?
Edgar: Lindsay, I think we're sidekicks.
Lindsay: Ew, I am not a sidekick.
I'm Beyoncé, not Kelly Rowland.
If I'm on a motorcycle, I'm driving the motorcycle, not riding in that shitty little side motorcycle thingie for poor people and dogs.
Edgar: Think about it.
In your relationship with Gretchen, are you the Mary Tyler Moore or the Rhoda?
Lindsay: Who are those people?
They sound ugly.
Edgar: Okay, uh, in flipping out on-on bravo...
Edgar: ...Are you the Jeff Lewis or the-the Jenni We Don't Know Her Last Name?
Lindsay: Oh, my God! I am totally the Jenni "We Don't Know Her Last Name".
Actually, I do... it's Pulos. I'm a big fan.
Gretchen: Yes. Okay. Oh... I, I'm not gonna tell him that.
That was Lindsay. She wants us to get dinner with them tonight.
Since we flaked last night, we should probably go.
As long as they have booze.
Cheer up, Jimster.
Or you could just really wallow in it.
We could listen to some...
The Smiths. They're sad and English, too.
Or I could read you a little, uh, Jude the Obscure.
(British accent): I hope our kids don't hang themselves because we're poor.
I know what will cheer you up! We can do it backwards while you watch foot fetish anime.
Gretchen: Well, I got to go to happy hour with Dana.
If you think you're gonna kill yourself, remember there is a hotline for that or, you know, just text me.
Sandra Bernhard: "When I was little, I never fantasized about having a baby of my own, unless we were playing war. I might grab someone else's child and run with them through the forest and hide them in a bramble. I wasn't like other girls, the ones who know from the start that they will be mothers, daydreaming about wedding days and lacy veils. They knew daddy would walk them down the aisle, give them away. For me, it was not so, an observer... not a participant."
Dana: Oh, girl, he is super hot.
Sometimes I think he looks like he's straight out of a Swedish vampire movie.
Dana: No, he's a piece of s*x.
No surprise, though... 'cause you're gorgeous.
Gretchen: Aw, thanks.
Dana: So, tell me about the boyfriend... what's his deal?
Gretchen: We don't really use that term, but, uh, he's a writer, he's British... He's usually very funny, but he's been super depressed lately.
Dana: Every dude I've dated cannot handle being sad for, like, a second. Can you imagine not being able to fully experience your emotions?
Gretchen: No. Well, we have a dinner later...
I have to see if I can get him to rally.
Dana: I should head out, too... I'll give you a ride.
Sandra: Thank you.
Jimmy: I came here tonight to heckle you.
And it would have been scathing. But I decided against it based on on the strength of your work. And I wanted to share that compliment.
And also have you sign this, please?
Sandra: What were your heckles?
Jimmy: Oh, uh...
All right. (Chuckles) "Look! There's the second worst thing about the '80s... after Reagan's trickle-down economics, which immediately caused a 10.8% rise in unemployment and an explosion in income inequality."
Just stuff like that.
Sandra: Who do you want this made out to?
Jimmy: Oh, um...
"To Ronny overly, a father whose sole connection to his son is that he never connected with his father..."
Sandra: "Yo, Ron. So glad I have a big fan in the UK.
Jimmy: Thank you. I'm actually an author myself.
Congratulations, you're dying. Perhaps you've heard of it?
Sandra: They carry it here?
Jimmy: Bookstore manager?
Sandra Bernhard here is interested in purchasing my book.
Manager: I'm sorry.
As Jimmy knows, he's been remaindered.
Sandra: That's such a waste of money.
Jimmy: Thank you! It's a travesty.
Sandra: You know what they should have done?
Sandra: They should've taken all the books they printed and thrown them directly into a hobo trash can fire. It would have saved a lot on shipping costs.
Jimmy: You're an asshole...
Man-dra Butt... Buttfart.
Sandra: Wow. Is that one of your previously written heckles, or was that just off the cuff?
Jimmy: Tooth gap! Some-something about your tooth gap?
Manager: Enough, Jimmy.
Jimmy: What the...?!
Don't you touch me, Philippe! I'm going.
Manager: I am so sorry.
Gretchen: Yeah, it's really pretty, huh?
Dana: Mm. I love that.
Gretchen: I'm in it for the money, just...
Dana: Is that Nancy from Roseanne?
(Dana and Gretchen laugh)
Jimmy: Don't want to talk about it.
Gretchen: Jimmy, this is Dana from work.
I've heard... so much about you. You weren't lying.
He is like a sexy Swedish vampire.
Jimmy: Sorry, ladies. I'm-I'm... I'm going to bed.
Gretchen: This sucks. I need to snap him out of it somehow.
Dana: Just bang the sh1t out of him, dummy.
Gretchen: I tried!
I'm sorry, Dana. This is not how you should be spending your night. You are way too fun and beautiful and spontaneous. You should just go.
Dana: Do you want me to stay?
Gretchen: Well, maybe we could go down there and... Oh, my God, I just had the craziest idea.
You can just ask me to have a threesome.
Gretchen (Laughing): What?! What?
That is bananas. What are you even talking about?
Can you imagine? Are you serious?
(Gretchen laughs) Oh, this is awesome.
This is guaranteed to cheer him up.
He has never had a threesome before.
Dana: Did he never go to middle school?
Gretchen: Jimmy. How you doing, buddy?
We just wanted to make sure that you are doing okay.
Jimmy: I'm fine, yeah.
Dana: Well, we just wanted to make sure that you were extra fine.
(Slow, sultry music playing)
Gretchen: Is that... ?
You came already?!
Dana: I guess this show got a little bit too sexy for you.
It's his first time. Maybe he got a little overexcited.
Jimmy: No, I didn't.
In fact, the joke's on you.
This is from a couple of minutes ago before you guys even came down.
Dana: Oh, my God.
Gretchen: Hold on.
So, you masturbated to completion in the literally one minute from the time you left upstairs to this moment?
Jimmy: I started at the top of the stairs.
What? I couldn't help it. You're both so beautiful, and I started thinking about how you guys must have hugged earlier tonight, and when you did, did your... did your boobies get all, like, "squozen" together?
Dana: And then you just laid there in it?
Jimmy: Shut up... Dana!
I was enjoying the afterglow! I didn't think you'd actually come down here, you giant weirdo.
Dana: You masturbated while walking down the stairs carrying a giant Sandra Bernhard standee, and I'm the weirdo?!
Dana: Yeah, I got to go.
Jimmy: Oh, no. Wait!
Gretchen: No. Wait!
Well, now I get why you've never had a threesome.
Lindsay: I'm sure they'll be here any minute.
Jimmy: What's the matter?
Gretchen: I can't believe I finally made a new friend, and I tried to bang her the first time we hung out. I suck at girls, Jimmy.
All the way back to the fourth grade when everyone was mean to me because I was the first person to grow boobs.
Whatever, Jessica Olsen. You're still flat as sh1t.
I guess I'm still that sad little ten-year-old girl sometimes, wishing someone would sit next to me on the side...
Jimmy: Oh, my God, will you stop?!
Jimmy: No offense, but you're kind of making my skin crawl.
Gretchen: Wow. Sorry.
Jimmy: I'm not comfortable with... feelings.
Gretchen: I listened to you blathering on about "ooh, me da."
Jimmy (laughs): That's lrish, dumb-dumb.
And you didn't listen. You played photo hunt.
And quite poorly, for the record.
I don't know why I started unloading on you like that.
I don't do... feelings.
Gretchen: What the hell is wrong with us?
We should celebrate. We found someone who is equally dead inside.
Gretchen: Let's make a pact never to feel anything around each other ever again.
Gretchen: I can't believe you've been my boyfriend for, like, three days, and we already had to bring in a third party.
Jimmy: You just said "boyfriend."
Gretchen: Oh, whatever.
It's... it's economical, okay?
God, you have issues.
Gretchen: You are the one who cried over a soccer jersey.
Gretchen: Ooh. Actually... that is kind of hot.
You look like a soccer hooligan.
Gretchen: I always had a thing for jocks, you know?
Jimmy: Mmm... Hey, uh, we can pop inside and do it quick before we head to the diner, right?
Gretchen: Oh, yeah. Oh, 15 minutes, tops.
Jimmy: Oh... uh...