06x08 - Episode 8

[bunniefuu]

[ball thumping]

Don't look at me that way!

I'm not crazy. I just lost my glasses.

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♪ I'm not pretending to be nuts to pay no taxes ♪

♪ I'm not crazy I just lost my glasses ♪

- I don't care if you lost your glasses.

Your rent is still due!

♪♪♪

♪ He's not crazy, just a little bit off ♪

♪ You may ask why I smile at every puddle I see ♪

- Huh?

♪ 'Cause they look like you ♪

♪ And they look like me ♪

♪ My reflection is perfection ♪

♪ So is my used... ♪

♪ Diaper collection ♪

- These are used? This is not sanitary!

I collect buttons, but this is just too much!

♪ Maybe he's crazy ♪

♪ Give me a minute and I'll give you the scoop ♪

♪ It started when I couldn't read a... ♪

♪ Can of soup ♪

[buttons jingling]

♪ My girlfriend and I wanted a wholesome dinner ♪

♪ But I almost cooked up some hot paint thinner ♪

♪♪♪

- All right, read this line, please.

[phoropter clicks]

♪ I'm not crazy, just finely tuned ♪

♪ I keep my passport on the moon ♪

- Who doesn't?

♪ He's not crazy ♪

♪ He's not crazy, just a little bit off ♪

♪ His eggs are boiled just a little bit soft ♪

♪ Then my girlfriend withdrew her affections ♪

♪ That's when I started my used diaper collection ♪

[Optometrist] Eye test.

- The mysteries of the world are mundane

compared to compassion.

- You got the last word wrong. It's action.

- Oh.

♪ Lost his glasses ♪

♪ There's a radio playing inside my head ♪

♪ It reminds me that... [what] I'm not dead ♪

♪ My world is spinning, and speaking of fate ♪

♪ My ex and the optometrist started to date ♪

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♪ I'm not delusional or institutional ♪

♪ My heartache grows ♪

♪ I'm kind of a wreck ♪

♪ I'm not crazy, I just lost my specs ♪

- Um, I've been told that I'm actually wearing glasses.

- You seem a bit crazy.

- But having no specs has set me free.

Now I suspect that NASA is following me.

- He knows too much.

We found this on the moon.

Don't let it happen again.

- See?

I'm not crazy...

it's just that people are afraid to listen.

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[♪ Shadowy Men: "Having an Average Weekend"]

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[door creaks open, water rushing]

- Oh, hi, Tory! I'll be about minutes.

- Okay, Rory. Good to know.

- Okay. [footsteps recede]

- [sighs]

[door creaks open, footsteps thud]

Rory, could I ask you a question?

- Please do. We welcome questions around here.

Especially ones we might have the answer to.

- [chuckles lightly]

Well, I was just curious about that sign.

- "Don't serve people on welfare"?

- No, not that one. - Good,

because we got rid of that. It was illegal.

- No uh...

what I was referring to is that sign that says,

"All employees must wash hair before pooping."

Uh, I was just curious about the logic behind that.

- Hmm. Isn't it obvious?

- Well, in some ways, yes.

I mean, I understand washing your hair.

- [chuckles] Goodness, of course you do.

- Yeah, and pooping is fairly clear.

It's just the word "before" that's throwing me.

- Hmm. Okay. Let me explain. - Mm-hmm.

- When you wash your hair, you remove poop particles.

- Yes, I understand you. Go on.

- So, after removing the poop particles,

it's necessary to...

poop... particles.

You know, saying the sign out loud like that,

makes me think that maybe it doesn't make any sense.

- Rory, I, I'm sorry. I was just being a pill.

Forget I even asked. - No, no, no, no, no.

You've made me curious. Dory?

- Tory, Rory, what's all the screaming?

It's like I'm at a Bon Jovi concert.

- [chuckling] - Sorry, Dory,

Tory had a query about the washroom signage.

- "Employees must wash their hair before pooping"?

- That's the one. - Well, it's all part

of creating a great dining experience.

- I think I understand. - Mm-hmm.

- See, I once worked at a restaurant

where the employees had to go shirtless

because truffles were going missing!

- Oh. - Heavens!

- But then, we started sneaking them out in our armpits.

- Huh. You know, I really enjoyed your anecdote,

but what I'd like to know is,

how does this pooping protocol

all contribute to a positive dining experience?

- Well, um, the bum, the human bum,

I don't know, must I explain everything?

[door creaks open]

- Tory, Rory, Dory,

I hate to be "that guy"

but we've been open for hours

and we haven't served any food.

- Ooh. - Oh.

- Cory, would you explain the sign again?

- Which one? - The one about pooping.

- Oh, well that one has quite a scientific explanation.

It's complicated but I think

I can put it into layman's terms.

- Well, I'll try my best to keep up.

- All right. When you massage the scalp,

it releases dopamine,

which sends a signal to the gluteus muscles

to relax the a**l glands.

And this causes the uh...

this... and then...

hmm... I was going somewhere with this,

but I'm really having a problem with the logic here.

- You almost had it. [pan crashes loudly]

- It's the government! Damn health regulations!

The government loves to pass ridiculous laws,

like children must not play,

or no cockfighting in nursing homes.

Don't get me wrong, I'll do it to avoid the fine,

but... I don't have to like it. [metal clangs]

- Thank you for your input, Martin.

- Wasn't me.

- Why are the kitchen staff talking to us?

- No idea. - I don't know.

- So, let me get this straight,

all this time we've been washing our hair unnecessarily?

- And also pooing unnecessarily?

Oh, maybe just the hair washing one.

- Yeah. - Hmm.

- Well, this is a disaster.

- I hesitate to ask another question.

- Oh. - No, go on.

- Who put up the sign in the first place?

- Hmm? - Huh.

I think I know where we might get some answers.

[bell over door jingles] Can you explain this?

- Oh, my God! You put that up?

- Yes. - That was six months ago.

You've had that up for six months?

- Yes. - Oh, my God!

Here's the real one.

Oh, my God! - But, oh, okay.

- Oh, my God! It was April st.

You don't know what April Fools is, do you?

Oh, my God! Oh my... - I'll just be on my way.

- It's-it's a day where we make fun of people, like you!

Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

You don't know what April Fools Day is?

Hey, I wanna show you to my friends!

[Announcer] Friends of "Kids in the Hall"

Number , Sasha.

- I am so excited!

I love the Kids in the Hall!

I can't wait for the new show!

And they told me I'm gonna be in an episode.

[chuckles] They just haven't said which part.

Hey... wh-what?

Oh, you're saying, this is the part I'm doing on the show?

Ohh. Well, I love this show but... this?

[Announcer] Friends of "Kids in the Hall"

Number , Sasha.

[birds chirp]

[indistinct hum of chatter]

- Right, take care.

[footsteps recede, gate latch creaks]

[footsteps shuffle]

[slow footsteps thud]

[door creaks open] - [weary sigh]

[leather crinkles, door clicks shut]

[slow footsteps thud]

- The mailman came to me...

and the mailman said to me...

that he was unhappy

with the latch of our gate being stuck.

I'm standing on our lawn,

with the mailman complaining about the latch of my gate.

- Yes, I meant to tell you. - Please!

- That he wants-- - Please!

He also said to me, that he talked to you about it,

something which, of course, I did not know...

because you did not tell me.

- Yes, I was going to-- - Please!

- [frustrated exhale] But I only...

- Please! - talked to him yesterday.

- And I never heard one word.

You never told me one word about it.

I'm standing... on our lawn...

of our house, with egg...

with egg... all over my face.

Being harassed.

Yes, harassed, by a mailman going on and on

about the latch of our gate.

Something that you knew about for almost hours.

- I tried to tell you,

but you spent most of yesterday with your hand...

stuck in the birdfeeder.

And you were too upset to listen to me.

- I said to him that, quote,

"I thought we had it fixed..."

"I guess it got unfixed." Unquote.

I was going for a laugh.

He did not laugh.

Instead, he's standing... on my lawn...

of my beautiful house,

that I paid a lot of money for,

after I borrowed a lot of money from your uncle,

and he's lecturing me?

He is lecturing me!

About the extreme changes of the season,

and how they make the ground move and shift,

and that's why our latch is stuck.

My God, Barb!

You never told me the ground moves and shifts!

I'm standing... on my lawn...

with a ground that is moving and shifting!

I'm in danger on my own lawn...

with a mailman who's obsessed with the weather!

[slow footsteps thud]

I just read your "leaving me for another man" note.

And I have never been more awash

in shock in my life.

In my life!

I'm standing, in my living room,

thinking I'm about to read a love letter.

But no, there are no rhymes for spring in this letter.

Instead, I find that my wife is leaving me.

For a -year-old lifeguard. - .

- Really? - Hmm.

- Hmm. Well, I'm sorry, I meant to tell you myself...

- Please! - [frustrated exhale]

but I thought you were gonna be at work all...

- Please! - all day.

So, I didn't, and I'm sorry or whatever.

- I work seven hours every... stop packing... month.

And when I get home, all I ask for is a little...

please stop leaving me... alone time,

for the entire evening and following morning.

[bag rattles, hurried footsteps thud]

- Packed? - Mm-hmm.

- All right, group meeting. - Hmm.

[bag rattles, footsteps recede]

- Good idea. We'll have a group meeting downstairs.

[footsteps thud on stairs, door creaks open]

And I make $, per annum.

And it's almost like I have a second job,

begging your uncle for money so we can...

stop opening that gate... eat and live.

[latch rattles]

- You uh, gotta tug and then pull!

[latch rattles]

[gate rattles]

- Barb! [latch clangs]

Barb!

[car doors open, engine turns]

Barb! [car rumbles away]

And all I ask,

is that my wife doesn't sleep with aging lifeguards.

I'm standing...

on my front yard with egg...

with egg... all over my face!

Who will clean up my egg?

Who will clean up my egg?

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[waltz music plays]

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[Man] Brilliant mustache, sir. - Yes.

[footsteps thud on stairs]

Hello.

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[muttering indistinctly]

[gasps]

Ah! Excuse me, sir, may I say,

you have quite a magnificent mustache there.

- And I might I say that yours roams about your face

to quite a pleasing effect. - Thank you, sir.

James Solloway, Esquire.

My card. - Hmm.

[polite chuckles] - Ha.

Oh, Benjamin Flunt,

Doctor of Mountaineering.

My card. - Mountains, eh?

- Hey. - Tell me,

will we ever learn how to climb them?

- There's sciences advances daily, sir!

- I'm delighted to hear it! Hmm.

- Yes. - Well...

[indistinct grunting exchange]

- Well, good day to you, sir! - Good day to you, sir!

There not. Ha ha!

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[small chuckle]

[knock on glass]

[footsteps creak, door clunks open]

- Yes? - Sorry to disturb you, squire.

Ham I addressing James Solloway, Esquire?

- I am he of that name.

- Is this your card?

- It is, indeed!

- Last night, a man went brutally murderin'

heleven prostitutes on Bequith Lane.

Chopped 'em up like fine onions, he did.

- Oh my.

- We found your card in his pocket!

- How can I help?

- Did the gentleman mention planning to k*ll prostitutes?

- He did not. - Hmm.

[Wife] Who is at the door, Dear?

- Um, the police, Dearest.

Um, they found my card on some gentleman

who m*rder*d some prostitutes.

- m*rder?! A card!

Prostitutes?

[fainting moans]

OH! [landing thud]

[clock ticking rhythmically]

My head. [clock ticking]

- I really should go. - I should...

- Thank you. - Good day, sir. Good day.

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- Hmm.

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[gasps]

Excuse me, sir.

Your facial hair does credit to the Empire.

- Linton Fallbus.

Alienist.

My card.

- The study of the insane mind! - Hmm.

- Why, you must have some tales to tell, sir!

- Indeed, I do, sir!

- I would be keen to hear them.

James Solloway, Esquire.

My card, sir.

- I am indeed keen to share my stories, sir.

Unfortunately, tonight I am busy

because I have dinner with my mother.

- Mm-hmm. - Perhaps some future date?

James Solloway,

Esquire.

[small chuckle]

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- Did I just make a new friend?

[knock on glass]

- You're the gentleman what I talked to...

about free month before.

- Yes, to what do I owe this--

- Is this your card? - Again?

- Yeah. Found on the person of a lunatic.

Who k*lled his mother.

An' at'er.

- But surely, this is merely a macabre coincidence.

[Wife] Dearest, who is at the door?

- It's the police again, Dear.

- The police?

Here once. Twice here.

- D... d... - Oh! Oh!

OH! [body thuds down the stairs]

[pained cries, hard thuds]

Ah! - Hmm.

- [pained moans]

[clock ticking rhythmically]

- I will... - Yeah. I appreciate that.

Thank you very much. - Oh, no.

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[Women giggling]

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- [gasps] Oh!

- [grumbles]

[stammering indistinctly]

[knock on glass, door opens]

[gasps] - Catch her!

[vomit splatters violently] - Terribly sorry.

Ha, nerves.

Police, here.

I usually faint!

- Darling, why don't you retire to the uh...

- I feel much better now. - Yes.

- All right, see you in the library.

- Is this your-- - Yes.

- All tight. Gentleman what was carrying this card

had a taste for fire!

Last night, he b*rned down the orphanage.

k*lled all the li'l ones.

Except for this li'l one.

[footsteps shuffle] - Poor me!

Wit' no motha!

Or father!

No cousins. - Hm, very interesting.

- No uncles!

No aunts!

Grands, or granddads!

Sisters... - Uh-huh.

- ...or brovers!

[dramatic music]

- [stammering indistinctly] - I am under orders...

from the magistrate...

to impound your cards.

- My cards!

[dramatic music, tin box rattles]

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[shaky exhale]

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[closing thud] - [gasps, shocked]

My ca--

I...

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[gulping exhale]

[clock ticking rhythmically]

[glass clunks, exhales]

[dramatic music]

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God. [crying]

Ahhhhh!

[uncontrollable sobbing]

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[stammering, hands slap harshly]

[sobbing]

[crying]

[bones snap, rope creaks]

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- [laughing]

- So, we've given him a TV.

- And the remote. - Yes, and the remote.

- TVs these days are useless without a remote.

- Point taken.

- That's because there's no dials.

- True enough. - Sometimes they don't even

have buttons, and if they do, I can't find them.

- Can we focus?! - Thank you, Bruce.

- You're welcome, Kevin.

- So, even though he has a TV, and a remote,

he keeps watching something on the smartphone,

- Hmm. - and giggling.

- [laughs] - And it's so small!

- Gentlemen, if we don't find our reading glasses,

we're never gonna know what he's actually looking at.

- [laughs] So random.

- Why does he keep saying that?

[Dave] Scott! Kevin! Bruce!

- Whatever character Mark is playing.

- The migraines are back!

- I'm glad I found you all together.

- Yes! All together... doing the research

we all agreed to do. - Yeah, Kevin.

Anyway, I finished my poll on Gen Z viewing habits.

And I think the results are gonna blow your minds.

- How long have you been doing a poll?

- Couple months. - Is that why you haven't

written anything for the series?

- Can we focus? - Focus!

- Thank you, Bruce. - You're welcome, Dave.

- Well, according to these results,

the one thing that Gen Z universally loves...

is a cliffhanger. [All] Ah.

- So, if we wanna hook that Gen Z audience,

all we have to do is end the season with...

[All] A cliffhanger! - Yes!

- What do you think, whatever character Mark is playing?

- [agitated] I am perplexed. - Oh!

- All comedy starts with a conflict, yes?

Sometimes in a heightened setting.

Then, must surprisingly,

offer a resolution.

Now, the cliffhanger does exactly the same thing,

provides a conflict.

But then it withholds the resolution,

leaving the audience in suspension. [sucks air]

Like they're dangling... from a cliff!

- I get it!

- So, that means, the question is,

how do we, as comedians,

working within the framework of comedy,

resolve this...

paradox? [spits]

- The intense character that Mark is playing

has a point! - Yes! Why don't we--

- I love it! - There's more, Dave.

- Oh! - Why don't we

write a sketch that's all set-ups

and then next season, do one that's all punchlines, huh?

- That will work! - Yes!

- [claps excitedly] - [laughs]

- We don't need him anymore! [gate creaks open]

You are free!

- [clicks teeth] Oh, that's so Cheugy.

- What does that even mean? - I have no idea.

- What it means is

we're going to have to write that cliffhanger.

- Oh, I thought we could just leave it with Bruce.

- No, no. This is the th episode, Dave.

- What? How far into it? - This is the last sketch!

- Oh, my God, well what's it about?

- This is it! We're performing it.

- But that's not enough time! I mean,

we'll never finish writing this sketch before it ends.

- Unless we do it together. Without Mark.

- All right. - Come on!

[keys clacking] - All hands!

- All right, God, I don't know if you're up there,

or if you're even listening!

But if you are, please,

let the Kids in the Hall finish this cliffhanger!

[spits]

- We're not putting that f*cking character

in this sketch.

- We can't have both characters who spit.

- No, it makes us look untalented.

[dramatic music sting]

- How many fingers, Marv? - Uh, eight, Don.

- Oh, so that's all the episodes then?

- Yes, Don. - Yeah, great. Great.

And where are the Kids now?

- Oh, they're being put back in storage.

- Okay. Excellent. Yeah.

[All sighing happily]

[machine clunks and whirs]

[Kevin] Woo-hoo! [Dirt splatters]

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