01x13 - Secrets and Spies

[bunniefuu]

Good morning! Who
wants pie? Maya, Randy?

Guy with a serious face
but a whimsical scarf?

Why are you coming to
a donut shop with pie?

It's : a.m.

What, can't a guy treat himself
to a little breakfast pie?

- Nadine broke up with him.
- RANDY: Oh, no.

What happened?

No idea. She just called me up

after two months of
dating and said it's over.

But it's cool.

It's not cool. He's devastated.

Not devastated.

Fine. Despondent.

I... I'm not despondent.

I mean, yeah, sure, I
just finished a painting

of our bodies merged together forever,

but I'll just set it on fire.

Just like Nadine did
to his heart. Cherry?

Please.

So meet my new girlfriend, pie.

You ain't never gonna leave me.

I know I should feel sad for him.

But now there's gonna be
more Franco-Sweatpants time.

We can finally take that trip
up to Michigan wine country.

Will you guys watch my laptop?

I have to feed the meter.

My dad says if I get
one more parking ticket

he's gonna stop making my car payments,

and this is not the relatable
problem I thought it was

when I started talking.

So if somebody comes in and
grabs her laptop and runs,

we're supposed to chase 'em?

Yeah, we hang out in a donut shop.

What kind of shape does
she think we're in?

Yeah.

Maya's always banging away

on that dissertation.

Wonder what it's about?

Probably boring young girl stuff
nobody cares about. (chuckles)

Hey, our names are in here.

Let me see, let me see, let me see.

This whole thing's about us.

Superior Donuts, A Case Study
on the Effects of Gentrification

on Interclass Social Bonding.

So all the time she's
been hanging out here,

she's been writing about us?

Hey, come on, what are you doing?

You're not supposed to be reading that.

Oh, yeah, that's an invasion

- of her privacy.
- According to this,

she's been invading
our privacy all year.

Fawz, you're in here.

Fawz Al-Shahrani is a
ruthless businessman...

She gets me.

... who is so devoid of
compassion and humanity

he's incapable of forming
meaningful friendships.

That's a little strong.

Right?

Hello?

Anyone?

All right, here's me.

Carl Tushinski is a disenfranchised

middle-aged male, unable
to get a full-time job,

cast adrift in a world
that's passed him by.

I got lost in the words,
but her tone seems hurtful.

Look, I know it's cool
to learn what a schoolgirl

with no life experience
thinks about you,

but just walk away.

Randy, she calls you

warm and nurturing, the bridge

that connects the
inhabitants of the shop.

That's so sweet!

Scooch over.

You sure she doesn't say
Sweatpants is the bridge?

She doesn't mention my
name in there anywhere.

And I've been through so much,
with the... the... blonde girl.

- Here comes Maya.
- Maya!

FRANCO: All right, if anybody wants

some pie, I left it in the
kitchen. I've had enough.

Just like Nadine had enough of me.

Maybe she'd like me more if I was a pie.

That's impossible, you're
not a pie. You a man.

How do you know you're
having a breakdown, you know?

I'm gonna have some more pie.

♪ ♪

I can't believe Maya
didn't me put in her paper.

I got to get another
look at that computer.

I told you last night, let it go.

Maybe I should hack her mainframe.

Only problem is

I don't know how to hack.

And I'm not sure what a mainframe is.

Why do you care what Maya thinks?

Because she's just so judgey.

Like a pecker bird who
just peck, peck, peck, peck,

- peck, peck, peck, peck.
- Uh, thank you, thank you.

I know what a pecker is.

Uh, pecking birds.

Uh, woodpeck...

She doesn't know me.
I'm perfectly capable

of being friends with someone.

Hey, Sweatypants, where you from?

Um, you know, actually, I was
born in Maryland, and I was...

See? Friends.

And I can totally hold
down a regular job.

That's why I got the want ads.

I'm just gonna circle anything
that's promising, and I'm done.

What happened to the want ads?

The Internet. But you know
what, I can set you up a profile

on one of those job search Web sites.

And while I'm at it, I'll just
swing by Nadine's Facebook page

and see what she's up to.

Oh, look, the bitch is having sushi.

Hi, guys.

Morning, Maya.

Here, have a donut.

I only had one bite.

Listen, Arthur said he's
gonna turn off the water later,

so if you got to go to the bathroom,

you should go now.

I'm... I'm-I'm good, but thanks.

Suit yourself.

You know what, better safe than sorry.

- Good thinking.
- Brilliant.

Okay, find Sweatpants.

Nothing.

Maybe she spelled
Sweatpants with two words.

A lot of my mail comes that way.

ARTHUR: Hey, hey!

What did I tell you?
Get away from there.

That's easy for you to say,
you're all over this thing.

A curmudgeonly father figure. A widower.

He once told me that every Sunday

he takes flowers to
his late wife's grave.

Oh! You are so lucky.

I didn't know that.

Well, now you do.

Well, is that where you
rush off to every Sunday?

What's with the third degree?

You know, some things are private, okay?

Oh, God, are you still doing this?

FRANCO: You know, there's a lot of stuff

in that computer I never heard.

You know, like, did you know Arthur

visits Joanie's grave every Sunday?

Oh, that's really sweet.

Also impossible, since
Joanie was cremated.

- What?
- Yeah.

I was there when Arthur spread her ashes

over Wrigley Field.

It was so beautiful.

And kind of gross.

- Some of it blew back on our nachos.
- Ugh.

Why would he tell that to Maya?

And, more importantly, where
is he going off every Sunday?

Definitely suspicious.

, ,

... Oh, hey, Maya.

, .

Sweatpants.

One word.

Okay, kid, time to close up.

And don't forget to
dump the day-old donuts.

♪ Day-olds! ♪

♪ Day-olds! ♪

Hey, it's nice to see you
getting over your breakup.

♪ Nadine dumped me, said I had to go home. ♪

Spoke too soon.

All right, it's Sunday night.

He's getting ready to leave.

Have you seen any clues as
to where he disappears to?

No. I mean, I think it's just so weird

that he would lie about
where his wife is buried.

I mean, what else has he lied about?

Is his last name even Przybyszewski?

I don't think that's
something you'd lie about.

Mmm.

This whole thing is so unlike him.

It's not like he's a man of mystery.

Even though he is shaped
like a question mark.

Jake.

Arthur.

What are you doing here?

I was in the neighborhood.

I thought we could take a little walk.

Okay.

Who the hell was that?

I don't know, but we better follow him

before Arthur's sleeping
with the gefilte fishes.

Okay.

RANDY: I don't see him.
You sure he came this way?

FRANCO: Yeah.

Saw him come down these steps.

Man, why is Arthur in a
Catholic church anyway?

I thought he went to Jewish church.

Well, maybe he's doing a little
religion comparison shopping.

People his age do that
when they get closer

- to the check-out line.
- Mm-hmm.

Maybe he's in here. Let's look.

Oh, no, no. Uh-uh. I feel a little weird

spying on someone in church.

When I was in the ninth grade

I was making out with Tony Delvecchio

in the confessional
when the priest came in.

Then I had to confess my sins

while simultaneously
committing at least three more.

So I figure I'm on thin ice with God.

Wow. Well, I'm not. Me
and God are like this!

MAN: And that, my
friends, is a true story.

He's in a circle with a bunch of people.

(laughter, applause)

Now they laughing and clapping.

Oh... Oh, this is worse than I thought.

I think Arthur's taking an improv class.

WOMAN: Thanks for the share, Bob.

Who'd like to go next?

Okay.

Uh, hi, my name is Arthur,

and I've got a gambling problem.

ALL: Hi, Arthur.

ARTHUR: It's been four years since

I placed my last bet.

And I only miss it during the playoffs.

And the regular season.

And the preseason.

And the draft.

It's a support group.

Arthur's a gambler.

You mean like Kenny Rogers?

Uh, let's get out of here. I
never should've come. Come on.

No, no, no, no, no.
You're in the right place.

We're gonna help you get through this.

No, no, man, I was just
checking up on my friend, man.

- I don't have a problem.
- Ah. That's what they all say.

Randy?

Sorry. I'm a bridge, not a spy.

Hey, everybody. I got a newcomer.

Franco.

ALL: Hi, Franco.

What the hell you doing here?

I walked in the wrong room.

It's... What are the odds?

Sorry.

But it won't happen
again, you can bet on that.

I'm leaving now.

Good morning. Donut and
coffee to go, please.

- To go?
- Yes, sir.

I got a full-time job at a call center.

You are looking at a customer
service representative.

Oh? Of what?

I have no idea.

But I would be happy to
transfer you to someone

who can answer all of your questions.

Oh, you're looking good, Tush.

You got a court date in
a small Southern town?

It's from the fancy section at Kohl's.

It's behind the luggage,

- so a lot of people miss it.
- Oh.

Morning.

Look, I ran off last night
before I could tell you...

I'm sorry.

Well, you should be.
And you had no right

to trail me.

At least you're not doing improv.

You don't have to hide anymore, Arthur.

I'm glad you're getting help.

If there's something I
could do to help you...

Look, that's none of
your business, okay?

But we're friends, man.

I tell you everything.

Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn't.

That's the trouble with your generation.

You need to share every
detail of your lives.

Here's a selfie of me and my patty melt.

Aren't I fascinating?

That was hurtful.

Look, I'm just saying that

there has to be some boundaries
between you and I, all right?

I'm the boss, you're the employee.

We don't have to tell
each other everything.

Fine.

And FYI, that patty melt was delicious.

Coffee to go, please.

Tush, my good friend.

Tell me how your new job is going.

TUSH: Okay,

but I'm on a -minute break.

It would've been a , but somebody

took Fat Shirley's macaroni
salad from the fridge,

and Regular Shirley's getting the blame.

So, of course, Gay Ted
called a meeting about it.

Delightful. Can you please
put that in an e-mail

so that I can savor all the details?

(chuckles) Oh, thank you.

Bye, Fawz.

Get off my back! I'm trying!

You know, I can't believe
Arthur kept this secret from me.

I thought we were
supposed to be friends.

(scoffs) You mean the
way you were my friend

when you ditched me
in a church basement?

That's how horror movies start.

Nadine.

Franco.

Sorry I haven't returned your calls.

It's cool.

It's all right.

Just thought you, uh, lost your phone

or choked on a piece
of sushi or something.

What I need to say to you,

I need to say in person.

(clears throat) And in private?

All right, let's go in the kitchen.

Hmm.

Gee, I, uh, wonder
what's going on in there.

Maybe I should go in
and do my bridge thing.

No, no, no, no.

She wanted privacy.

I know how to find out what's going on.

You're not going in there, are you?

Arthur, give me some credit.

I'm going to hold this
up to the door and listen.

No, no. No, you're not.

Come on, Arthur.

This is more exciting

than the time Gay Ted
brought his wife to work.

Now look, they went in there
because they wanted privacy,

and that's exactly what we're...

- What?
- ARTHUR: It's Nadine.

I think she's crying.

And that's none of our business.

Wow.

She's really losing it.
But that's between them.

Oh.

I mean, full-on waterworks.

No, Sweatpants.

Get a bigger one.

I'm sorry. It's just...

It's so hard to tell you.

Just come out and say it.

(inhales)

Franco...

I'm pregnant.

(glass breaks)

What? What happened?

One of them is pregnant.

And I think it's Nadine.

Franco and Nadine are having a baby.

No, they can't.

They're so young.

Well, sure, they start out young,

but before you know it,
they're walking and talking...

No.

I'm talking about Franco and Nadine.

They're not ready for this.

Ha! Tell me about it.

I mean, the four of us in
that tiny studio apartment?

And you know who's going to
end up doing all the work.

I just hope Franco knows
what he's getting into.

I mean, how well can he even know...

Nadine! (chuckles)

Hey, girl.

Hey, Arthur.

Yeah. (sniffles)

I don't think those were tears of joy.

Why does everyone look so shocked?

Nadine's pregnant.

Come on, Fawz, you can do this.

Really?!

FAWZ: Franco, I just heard

about your baby.

Congratulations, man!

How do you even know a...

Were you listening to my conversation?

No, I heard it from Tush.

You were eavesdropping?

Uh, Arthur told me.

You were eavesdropping?

No.

Okay, yeah.

I heard crying, so I got concerned.

I mean, this is life-changing, kid.

I-If you want to talk about it...

I don't.

I'm-a tell you the same thing

you told me three hours ago.

You're the boss, I'm the employee.

It's none of your damn business.

Hey, you're the guy that followed me

to my gamblers' group.

Oh, you like to gamble?
'Cause I got some guys

I play poker with if you want in.

No.

What's the buy in?

He meant a support group.

Well, how do you know that?

Were you spying on me, too?

Y-Yeah, but only because...

What did you tell him?

What, there's no respect
for privacy in this place?

Yeah.

Looks like this place
could use some boundaries.

Randy, I thought you
were better than that.

Yeah, and I thought you were my friend.

Why would you lie about
going to visit Joanie's grave?

When did I say that?

In Maya's dissertation.

What?

How do you know what's in there?

Tush read it.

Thanks a lot.

You're as bad as Loudmouth Shirley.

How many Shirleys work at this place?

How dare you read that? That's private.

Oh, that's rich

coming from the woman
who's been spying on us.

I'm not spying on you.

I-I'm studying you.

I can't believe you think
I'm some pathetic loser

who can't get a job.

And I'm some heartless businessman

who doesn't care about
his pathetic loser friends.

You don't know what
you're talking about.

All right, everybody. That's enough.

I know we're all upset, but
Maya has never treated us

with anything but kindness and caring.

So let's not jump down her throat

until we hear what she has to say.

Thank you, Randy.

Now talk fast.

I'm not sure how long
this bridge is gonna hold.

Look, what you read...
I wrote that months ago.

Those were my first impressions.

But-but then I got to know you.

Like, look.

Read.

When I met Carl,

"I considered him a sad failure"

Not a great start.

But by creating a life for himself

outside the nine-to-five workforce,

he is one of the happiest,

and therefore most successful,

people I have ever known.

You really think that?

I do.

So do I.

Hello, Gay Ted?

This is Carl.

Bald Carl.

Listen, I quit.

And tell Fat Shirley to
lay off Regular Shirley.

I'm the one that ate her macaroni salad.

And Fawz.

(clears throat)

Despite his ruthless demeanor,

Fawz has exhibited moments
of true caring and friendship.

Aw.

Happy now, you jerk?

I am.

But also exhausted.

How are you people so nice
to each other all the time?

What about me?

I didn't even get one mention.

That's not true.

This is the conclusion.

I wrote it this morning.

Actually, Arthur,

why don't you read it?

(sighs)

You couldn't find a smaller font?

(clears throat)

Ah...

Superior Donuts is a gathering place

where people, regardless
of race, age and background,

have found a refuge in an
otherwise impersonal city.

This is best illustrated

by the unlikely friendship
between Arthur and Franco.

Arthur provides his young employee

with a stable home beyond the apartment

he shares with his roommate,

a free-loading slacker named Sweatpants.

- I'm in the book!
- ARTHUR: Okay.

Here.

(scoffs)

You think you're gonna
make everything right

by giving me some lame-ass gift?

It's not for you. It's for your kid.

I will love him no matter what.

But please, God, don't
let him be a White Sox fan.

Thank you.

I can't take it.

Look, I know what I
said about boundaries,

but, you know, I realized
that like it or not,

you and I, we're way past that.

The thing is...

it's not my kid.

What?

Apparently Nadine was
engaged to this guy,

and he broke it off with her.

I was the rebound.

Wow, that's tough.

Oh, come on. You're too
young to have a kid, anyway.

You barely can take care of Sweatpants.

Look, I, uh, I'm sorry I eavesdropped.

I was gonna tell you anyway, man.

I was just...

(sighs) It's humiliating. You know?

No, I get it.

That's why I didn't tell
you about my gambling.

I was afraid you wouldn't
look at me the same.

And I kind of like to think

that you look up to me.

Huh.

That's weird, 'cause I always thought

you looked up to me, but whatever.

So, you gonna be okay?

Eventually.

(sighs)

Oh, I got pies stashed
all over this bitch.

Oh.