11x21 - The Truth Hurts

[bunniefuu]

in the sky

a piece of the pie

in the kitchen

on the grill

in the big leagues

it's you and me, baby

with that

in the sky

a piece of the pie

Oh, George, I'm so excited.

I've just finished the
painting I was working
on at art class.

Great, Weez. I know
following them numbers
ain't easy.

Come on.
This is an original.

Oh! You made up
your own numbers, huh?

You know something?

I never thought
I was talented
at anything until now.

You know, those art classes
really have made me
feel worthwhile.

I know what you mean, Weez.
Twenty years ago,

if someone hadn't
discovered cleaning fluid,

I don't know
where I'd be today.

Okay.

Now, are you ready?

Not only am I ready,
let me see it.

I call it,
Wild Mustangs at Play.

What do you think?

Pretty wild, all right.

Pretty orange, too.

I knew you'd love it!

Now tell me, do you think
I've captured the realism
of the scene?

I mean, do you actually
feel like you're right there

in the field with
those mustangs?

Believe me, Weez,
ever since you showed it
to me,

I've been watching
where I step.

George, you flatter me.

Hey, I'm going in
to see if I can find a place
to hang it in the bedroom.

Good idea.

When I'm in there I usually
have my eyes closed.

Everywhere I look!

George, you're home!

Unfortunately, you're not.

So, what's up?

Well, I don't know why, but
we thought it might be
a good idea to take in

the Museum of Natural History
with you and Louise today.

Yes, they're having a special
prehistoric exhibition.

I don't have to go
to a museum for that.
I got Florence right here.

Besides, I have a problem.

You think
you've got a problem?

Look at this!

That's my problem.

My God, George, what is it?

Shh!

It's Weezy's painting!

Well, what happened to it?

She painted it.
She calls it,
Wild Mustangs at Play.

Well, in that case...

Wait, wait.
Just one question.

How did she get these
little orange rats to stand
still and pose for her?

They're not rats.
They're horses.

Rat-like horses.

Hi, guys.

What's all
the laughing about?

Uh, I was just telling
them that joke about the
nun and the water skier.

Well, tell me.
I haven't heard it.

Uh-uh, Weez, it's only funny
to people who have heard it.

Have you two
seen my painting?

Why, no. Where is it?

Right there.

Oh, why, Louise!
Oh, you've really outdone
yourself this time.

It's so... It's so...

Oh, Helen, what is that
word I'm reaching for?

Late. The word is late.

Which is what
we are right now.

Oh, we're on our
way to the museum.

Oh, do you have to run?
The museum is open all day.

Yes. But those dinosaurs
aren't getting any younger.

Oh, hi, Charlie!

Mr. Willis.

Bye, Charlie! Hope you
brought your shovel.

Hey, Charlie. Come on in.

Oh, hi, Charlie.

Hey, Mrs. Jefferson,
Mr. Jefferson.

I thought I'd just
drop these olives by

for that new casserole that
Florence is trying out.

Five pounds?

Well, not to worry.
They freeze.

That's the ugliest
thing I've ever seen!

Now, I can talk about
Florence that way,

but you're a guest
in this house.

And as a guest, I think
you should come over here

and take a look at this
painting of Weezy's. Okay?

And I think she'd feel real
bad if somebody was to say

that it wasn't the best
thing in the world.

Uh, so, Mrs. Jefferson,

you did this?

Oh, yes.

Well, this...
This is really something.

You really think so?

Oh, yeah, yeah. You know,
the wife drags me all
over town to museums,

and I can tell you,
I've never seen
anything quite like this.

Well, Charlie, if you like,

I could paint you something
to hang down in the bar.

Oh, no, no.

No, I couldn't
possibly ask you to do
that, Mrs. Jefferson.

You see, what I mean
is I'm allergic...

I'm allergic to great art.

Why, uh... One look
at the Mona Lisa

and I get
a post nasal drip.

Oh, Charlie, I didn't know.

Oh, yeah. As a matter of fact,
I feel my allergy's acting up

just standing here
next to your painting.

Would you excuse me?
I gotta run downstairs
and pick up my inhaler.

Poor Charlie.

Yeah, we all have
our crosses to bear.

I'm sleepy,
I'm gonna take a nap.

Tired already?

Hey, Weez, a talent like
yours can wear a guy out.

What is it, Miss Jefferson?

Oh, my goodness,
I'll get rid of it
right now.

Stop!

What are you doing?
That's mine. I painted it!

Oh.

So, what do you think?

What do I know about art?

Well, you know
what you like.

Don't you like it?

Miss Jefferson, my mama
always told me

if you can't say
nothing good,

don't say nothing at all.

Well, you could be
honest with me.

I'm not one of those
temperamental artistes.

Okay. I don't like it.

Well, what do you
know about art?

Nothing! It could be
the greatest painting
in the world.

I just don't
happen to like it.

Well, everybody else
liked it.

Everybody?

Yes, everybody.

What I wouldn't give
to have an optometry
shop in this building.

Florence!
What a thing to say.

Oh, Miss Jefferson.
Can't you take a joke?

There's such a thing
as joking, and such a thing
as hurting feelings.

Well, I'm sorry. I didn't
mean to hurt your feelings.

I just don't happen to like
the painting, that's all.

That's it. Rub it in.

I'm not rubbing it in.
I'm just giving
you my opinion.

On a subject you know
absolutely nothing about.

Look, you're the one
who wanted to know
what I liked, right?

Well, I don't like
them orange rodents.

Those are not
orange rodents,

they're wild mustangs!

Well, they look
like used Buicks.

Orange Buicks.

Oh, what's the use? If you
had any sense of culture...

Who are you
calling uncultured?

A certain woman whose
idea of sophistication

is going to
a roller derby by cab.

Well, that's a lot of nerve
from a certain woman

who don't know the difference
between a horse and a hamster.

Florence, I think you should
take your mother's advice
and zip your lip.

Oh, you want me to
zip my lip? I'll zip it.

But I have one
more thing to say.

Oh, yeah?

You're probably wondering
why I gathered you all here.

Well, I have a very special
announcement to make...

Mr. Jefferson,
would you like
a green salad for dinner?

Florence, can't you
see I'm talking?

Mr. Jefferson, you might
mention to your wife

that I can see
perfectly well.

That is the problem.

Now, about your salad?

Uh. Yeah, sounds good.

I just wanted to be sure

you wanted a green salad.

You see, I get
confused in a world

where horses are orange.

Doesn't envy make
a person ugly?

Weez, be fair. Nature had
something to do with it, too.

Anyway, as I was
trying to say,

I've decided to have
a showing of my work
at Charlie's Bar.

Louise, a showing, so soon?

Yes, you don't want to
do Charlie's Bar before
a European tour.

Oh, now, Tom. I know
you love my work.

But let's be realistic.

I'm a good six months from
being ready for Europe.

I've booked Charlie's
for Wednesday afternoon.

Wednesday? Weez, don't you
think that's kind of soon?

I mean, you've only got
one painting to your name.

Yes. You need
at least a dozen.

Well, I've got
four whole days.

I think we'd better talk.

Oh, later, George.

I don't have much time,
I'd better get to work.

Can I borrow your
bowling ball?

My bowling ball? For what?

I'd like to paint it.

A study in roundness!

This is awful.

What are we going to do?

Well, I know what
we'd better do.

One of us better
tell her the truth.

I agree. And I think
it should be you.

You're her husband
after all.

But isn't that a little
obvious, Willis?

Well, yes, I guess so.

Well, I guess that just
leaves you, Helen.

Me? I'm her best friend.
I can't tell her the truth.

Besides, what about you?

Oh, I'm tired of being
the bearer of bad news.

I was the one that told her
about Ann Landers' divorce.

Well, look,
somebody's gotta stop her.

Hey, wait a minute. Maybe
we don't have to stop her.

Oh, sure, Willis, that's
easy for you to say.

Your wife knows
she has no talent.

Let's just hear the plan.

Now, listen, George.
What if we invited an art
critic to Louise's showing.

He could tell her that
her work shows promise,

but she's not quite ready
for a public viewing.

Brilliant, Willis. You know
any blind art critics?

Listen, George. I think
you're missing the point.

I'm not suggesting
we hire a real art critic.

I'm saying we hire some guy
to pose as an art critic.

Oh, now I get you.

You mean, bring in
somebody like Will Hicks?

Will Hicks. Exactly.
Who's Will Hicks?

He's the manager of
my Bronx store.

He'll do anything
for money.

For bucks, he had
his pants pressed while
he was still in 'em.

Now that's an art critic.

Mr. Jefferson.

Hey there, Will,
you got here.

Weezy's not here yet.
Hey, I see you wore
a tie, nice touch.

Yeah, I got it out of
the lost-and-found.

We don't have
a lost-and-found.

We do now.

So, you know what you're
going to do, right?

Yeah.
Think you can handle it?

No problem.

Look, I want you to
make her believe that
you know all about art.

Hey, when you hired me,
I made you believe I knew
all about dry-cleaning.

Right on.

I'll let you know
when she gets here.

Hey, Charlie, I just want
to say thanks for closing
up the bar this afternoon.

Oh, no problem,
Mr. Jefferson.

I know how much this show
means to Mrs. Jefferson.

I mean, it's her hopes,
it's her dreams,
it's her aspirations.

Besides, I wouldn't
want any of my regulars
seeing this schlock.

You know, Helen,
this is the first time
I've ever been somewhere

where the goat cheese
was the second ugliest
thing in the room.

"A Bowling Ball:
A Still Life."

Can you believe this?

No. Who would put a bowling
ball in a fruit basket?

HELEN:
Oh, there's Louise now.

She looks so excited.

I hope this whole
thing works out.

Oh, yes. I do too.

But if it doesn't, try the
mustard sauce on these
little chicken nuggets.

They're scrumptious. Mmm.

Hey, Weez.

Yo, Will! Will!

Uh, Louise, I'd like for
you to meet Will Hicks,
the famous art critic.

Art critic?

Oh, I'm so happy
you could be here.

Will is just returning
from a trip to the Orient.

Yes, there's so much art
there yet to be criticized.

How wonderful.

Mr. Hicks, how did you
hear about my showing?

Uh, you heard of my fellow
critic, Kellam de Forest?

No. I haven't...

He told me.

Well, Mr. Hicks, I'd be
honored to hear what you

would have to say
about my masterpiece.

I think it's time
to introduce me.

Right! Ladies and
gentlemen, Louise.

Thank you, thank you.

And now, for the moment you
all have been waiting for...

My masterpiece.

I give you

Wild Mustangs at Play.

Bravo! Bravo!

Bravo!

Did you hear that?

The great critic, Will Hicks,
loved my painting.

What color. What depth.

What nerve.

Oh, Mr. Emmett!
You made it.

Your office told me you were
attending another opening.

I was, but you see
it was canceled.

The artist wanted to finish
one work-in-progress,

so he postponed
his showing for a year.

A year? What's he
painting, his house?

I've just unveiled my
masterpiece and
you've just got to see it.

It would be my pleasure,
Mrs. Jefferson.

Hey, Weez, who is this guy?

Oh, I'm sorry. Uh...

George, this is
Mr. Whitney Emmett.

Another famous critic.

He was the lecturer in
one of our classes.

Oh, nice of you to come.

But we already
have an art critic
and he's wearing a tie.

My husband has quite
a sense of humor.

Uh, I tell you what,
you enjoy the exhibit,

while I go get you
a glass of wine.

Hey, boss.

I didn't realize I was
gonna have competition.

I'm afraid I'm gonna have
to charge you extra.

Hey!

We made a deal.

Okay. Have it your way.
I'll just talk to your wife.

Hold it! Okay.

Here's another
bucks, okay?

Now you better make
her believe that you
like all of her junk.

Uh, George,
what's going on?

Here? Look, Weez,
it's not what you think.

Uh, that's cab fare.

See, ol' Will lives
bucks away.

Yeah. A lot of us
art critics do.

See ya!

George, you felt you
had to bribe someone?

Oh, come on, Weez.
Don't feel bad.

What are you talking
about? What do I have
to feel bad about?

Well, your pictures, well...

How can I put this nicely?

I can't.

You mean,
you don't like them?

No, Weez.

You never did?

No, Weez.

Well, the Willises?

Nope.

Charlie?

You're all
just like Florence.
You know nothing.

Well, if you don't mind,
I'll take my criticism

from somebody who knows
something about art.

Mr. Emmett?

Just one moment.

I'm awestruck.

"Awestruck"?

As in, "struck by awe"?

Quite frankly,
I've just never seen
such beautiful work.

I mean, the detail,
the style.

What do you say to $ ?

$ ?

I'm sorry,
I insulted you. $ .

$ ?

I think I was pretty
polite that time.

Did you hear that?

Mr. Emmett, normally
I wouldn't let it go
at such a low price,

but for you...

Thank you. Thank you,
Mrs. Jefferson.

Now, if you
don't mind, I'd, uh...

I'd like to take it
with me right now.

Thank you. Would you
hold this please?

Oh, sure.

This frame is an
exquisite example...

It's just an exquisite
example of th century,

hand-carved craftsmanship.
You see, it's solid oak.

Oh, thank you so much.

Oh, and you can take this,
whatever this is.
I don't need this.

Weez...

You didn't by chance
hand-carve that frame,
did you?

I made a complete fool
of myself, didn't I?

Oh, Weezy, come on,
don't be sad.

Sad? I'm furious!

Not one of you
tried to stop me!

Not one of you

had the courage to
be honest with me.

To tell me the truth.

You're wrong, Weez.
One of us did.

Oh, my God! Florence.

No, Florence, wait.

Miss Jefferson, if you're
gonna say some more
nasty things to me,

I'd just as soon
put a couple of rooms
between us.

I'm not going to say
anything nasty.

What I came to
say is, I'm sorry.

Well, I'll stick
around for that.

And I also want
to say thank you.

Thank you? For what?

For being the only one
with courage enough
to be honest with me.

Let's face it...

My paintings...

Aren't, well,
they're more like...

They stink.

Well...

Not after the paint dries.

Miss Jefferson,
tell you what.

You've been such
a good sport.

Go ahead,
take a sh*t at me.

What? No,
I couldn't do that.

Oh, go ahead.
Criticize anything.

I can take it.

You'll feel better.

Oh, I don't know.

Come on. I mean it.

Well, okay.

Those earrings
you're wearing.

Uh... What's the word?

They're hideous.

Where in the world
did you get them?

Out of your jewelry box.