Win a Trip to Browntown! (2021) - full transcript

Faithful blog readers, all
four of you,

instead of a post whining
about my shitty job

or bland suburban life,
I'm shaking things up.

I've submitted my entry for
Pitchfest.

"What the hell is that?" you
ask.

Well, for struggling
writers such as myself,

it's a lottery ticket of sorts.

If chosen, you get to
pitch your story idea

to three established writers
in the literary world.

They then choose a winner
who gets published.

I've entered before, but
haven't been selected.



This year though, Pitchfest
is coming here to Seattle,

so I'm hoping I get special
consideration

for being from the area.

You know what they say,
16th time's the charm!

Fuck me with a rusty trombone.

Quick, get vertical! Get
vertical!

Hurry up! Hurry up!

I'm teaching Howard a lesson
today

on acting like a douche canoe.

Cameron, you broke my
computer.

What?

Howard, I just installed
the RAM, like you asked.

Then why is everything
on my screen sideways?

Oh no.



Oh Howard, your computer's
been hit by a virus

on our network.

It's causing all the
displays to rotate, see?

It's happening to everyone, you
know?

Antivirus vendor is sending us a
patch.

We'll have it up in a couple
hours.

What?

I have to complete three
dozen student evaluations

by the end of the day.

Isn't there anyone else you can
contact?

Well, when we brought
you the RAM, you said,

"A third grader could do
what a helpdesk tech can."

Maybe you can call one of them?

Sometimes I can't
believe you're my manager.

Well, I'm young and I don't
care

about money or advancement.

Which actually, according to the
state,

makes me the ideal university
employee.

Then why am I here?

Well, you're a writer with a
family.

You need the benefits.

And you aren't qualified to do
much else.

I fucking hate you.

Are we a little bit touchy?

Is this one of your sad blog
post days?

Well, just stick to
the funny family stuff.

Maybe people would read your
blog then.

I keep telling you,
it's not meant to be read;

hence, My Anonymous Blog.

You know, I need a little space

for me to mentally masturbate.

Oh, I know.

And I thoroughly appreciate
your brain bukake.

Right, Paulie?

Dangit!

Come on! Let's go!

Dangit!

Dangit!

Great.

The mommy brigade's out
in full force today.

There's Xander!

I'm gonna go say "hi."

No, I look gross and
I'm just not in the mood

to deal with Xander's mom

and her passive-aggressive
comments.

Passing addresses? What's
that?

It's where someone says
something mean to you,

but they say it in a way that
sounds nice.

Does that make sense?

I don't think Xander's
mommy would do that.

I'll go check.

Wait!

Shit!

Oh, Buzz! Xander, your
friend Buzz is here.

Hi Christy! My mom is in the
car and...

And, nope!

Mom's here!

Buzz, why don't you and Xander
go play

so the mamas can talk?

- But...
- Go play, now.

Hey! So, what's new?

Me, I've just been cleaning all
day.

Is that what's on your shirt?

Oh, no. This is just coffee,
see?

Hey, mom. I'll see you in the
car.

Uh, we better go.

You know, I was running late

and I totally forgot my driver's
license.

Barely made it in time for
pick-up.

Wow, I'm so self-conscious
about my appearance

that it takes me half an
hour just to get ready

for the grocery store.

I love that you don't
even feel the need to try.

You have such joie de vivre.

Huh. Yeah.

Mm, joie de vivre...

Dangit!

Teddy, really smart
people don't have to worry

about looking dumb.

And I think that's gonna be you
one day!

Is that passing addresses, mom?

Get in the car.

We still gotta go to the
store to get the pies

for the celebration tonight.

More pie! More pie!

More pie! More pie!

Buzz, that's enough sugar.

But it's anniversary pie!

I need to eat more to show how
happy I am.

It's fine.

When a marriage lasts 21 years,

I think everybody deserves a
second slice.

Tell me more about your
wedding.

It was big, right?

And who caught the bouquet?

Oh, this girl from my
sorority.

She was kind of a skank.

Skank?

Uh, no. Skunk!

She was smelly.

To 20 wonderful years.

But it's your 21st
anniversary?

Well, one year was kind of
rough.

Which year was that?

You know, it doesn't matter.

It was a long time ago, and
every couple has one bad year.

The important thing is we made
it through,

and the three of you guys
are our tasty reward.

Tasty?

Yeah.

A good family is like a piece of
taffy.

It's sweet, it sticks to you
whether you want it to or not,

and the best kind has nuts in
it.

True, but taffy with
nuts is kinda weird, honey.

So's our family.

Cheers to that.

Mom, can you be sure
to wash my gym clothes?

Volleyball tryouts are this
week.

I might not be fast, but
I've got a mean serve.

I'm sure you'll do great,
honey.

Did you get your homework done?

Almost.

I just need dad's help with
math.

I've gotta grab him before
he goes into his writing cave

for the night.

Well, maybe I can help.

Do you know how to find
the y-intercept of a slope?

I do, but it's better if you
figure it out for yourself.

Sure. Any other words of
wisdom?

Marry someone smarter than you

so your kids stand a chance.

Nice.

I assume grandma gave you the
same advice?

No, dad! Please, no!

Everything all right in here?

Daddy's gonna shock me
if I wet my bed again!

That's not what I said.

I was just telling Buzz
about these electric blankets

that might help him.

When they get wet, they
give you a tiny little shock

so you can wake up and go to the
bathroom.

But I don't want a shock!

It's just a tiny zap.

It's not like a taser gun or
anything.

Frank, no.

Don't taze me, bro!

I won't wet my bed again.

Promise!

All right, but you need dry
sheets

if you wanna turn seven.

Then I get a big party, right?

Maybe we'll even have
a volcano fountain.

Yay!

You two almost done in here?

Yeah, Buzz just has to clean
the ol' twig and berries.

And I will leave you to that.

You almost done, bud?

Maybe a half hour more?

Man, MIT better appreciate

the work you're doing to get in.

Don't jinx me, dad.

Didn't you have to torture
yourself

to get into Stanford too?

Little bit.

All right, finish up and
then straight to bed.

You got it.

- Hey.
- Hey.

Did you get some good writing
done?

I dunno, but my brain
was feeling like mush,

so I figured, time for bed.

Unless you wanna...

You know, it is our anniversary.

Yeah. Sure.

Are the kids asleep?

Everybody except Teddy.

Well, then we can't.

He'll hear us.

What if we do it standing?

I dunno. It's kinda cold.

Can I leave my pajamas on?

How would that even...

You know what, I'll
just take care of things

in the shower tomorrow.

Wait. What?

I mean, I knew you did that

when I was pregnant with
the kids, but you still..?

Make fist-kebabs?

You bet.

Gross. I'll be using one
of the other bathrooms.

Well, don't use Teddy's.

A teen boy could seal the Grand
Canyon

with the amount of spackle they
put out.

- What?
- Ick. Just get over here

so we can look at our Facebook
page.

I posted one of our old
wedding photos to our account.

You looked gorgeous.

Still do.

How come it looks like I'm
the one who had three kids?

Look at all these comments.

Hold on, you passed the end.

Sorry, just let me...

Wait.

What?

Fuck!

What? What is it?

Who's Molly Young?

A former classmate of mine.

Check out the article link.

It says she's getting a book
published.

Ooh, nice advance too.

Good for her?

What? Was she a bitch or
something?

No.

She was just like a
majority of my classmates

who thought serious novelists

should write about depressing
people

in messed-up situations.

And since I like to
write about happy people

who aren't dicks, well,
let's just say I didn't click

with her or a lot of my
classmates.

I know I'm just being jealous,

but, shit, I thought it was my
turn

to have something good happen.

Look at me here.

This guy, when we got married,
he was talking with agents,

winning short story awards.

He thought life had all
these possibilities,

and then one bad year
sidetracked things.

He never pictured
himself as some fat loser

working a shitty job living a
sh...

Living a shitty life?

No, no, no, no.

That's not what I was gonna say.

I had different expectations,
you know?

And I just never imagined
my life being normal.

And normal is bad?

Normal's fine, but it was
just kinda more your dream.

Honey, my dream was to have a
husband

that was available to share my
life with.

And look at all you've got now.

I mean, great house, amazing
kids,

and a wife that is still
madly in love with you

after all these years.

Look, I know it's gonna
happen with your writing.

It wasn't the right
time back then, but now?

I mean, you've entered
Pitchfest,

and the fact that it's happening
here

just proves your time is coming.

It's destiny.

Yeah. Maybe.

Look, think positive.

Maybe you should even start
exercising?

Lose a few pounds before you
pitch?

Well, okay, if I get to pitch.

And are you getting tired
of looking at my fat ass?

No, never. You know
that's not what I mean.

But it could be good for you.

And maybe we can make it
fun, like, have a prize?

What do you have in mind?

I don't know.

Maybe I could dress in
something hot and we could

have-a the sexy time?

Okay, I like what you're
thinking.

Ooh. Right now?

But for the record,

this doesn't count as more sexy.

What? I thought you liked that
one!

Honey, you are so sweet,

and I think you're hot
in anything you wear,

but your bedroom instincts
are a little PG-13.

Now, I don't need anything
hardcore, okay?

I'm thinking something
special, like shower sex?

Ick.

I feel like I'm being water-boarded
every time we try that.

Okay, how about some oral
attention?

Blowies on demand?

You know - one for every pound I
drop.

No. Absolutely not.

Look, I might consider
one for every five pounds.

If I got to our wedding
weight, I'd get about 10.

Ha! No way you can do that.

What?

I could if I wanted.

Bullshit!

If you lost that much weight,
I'd...

I'd let you put your dick in my
ass!

You can't make jokes like
that, okay?

That's just mean and cruel
and I know that you'd never...

Maybe.

Maybe you don't know me
as well as you think.

How many pounds to get to 185?

About 50.

- Yeah, right.
- All right.

- Wait.
- What?

What's the deadline?

Why do we need one?

You said I'd never lose that
much.

Well, yeah, but what
if you go and get cancer?

I mean, you could easily
lose 50 pounds from chemo.

That wouldn't be fair.

Wait, are you saying
that if I got cancer,

you wouldn't do anal with me?

What do you think?

Look, I mean, if you really want
this,

you could lose it all in a few
weeks.

Yeah, I could also chop a leg
off too,

but I'd like to lose the weight
safely.

10 weeks. That's five pounds a
week.

Let's make it an even
three months. Deal?

Yeah!

That's it! No backing out!

It's a deal!

Oh, I won't back out.

Just like you won't get to 185.

Night, honey.

You know, our 20th anniversary
may have been platinum,

but the 21st is looking all
brown.

Oh Buzzy-buzz?

Time to get up, kiddo.

Hey, I enjoyed our talk last
night.

It's been awhile since I woke up

feeling this enthusiastic about
something.

Really?

Oh, tell me more while I
make the kids' lunches.

Well, I dunno.

It just feels good to have a
goal

that I have some control over.

I think I needed something
to shake up my world,

and this has definitely done
that.

I'm glad, but don't
tell anybody

about our little bet.

Yeah, I wasn't gonna advertise
it,

but can I tell Cam?

I assume you're telling Meg and
Jen.

Oh! I better grab my Fitbit.

Hey Buzz, what're you up to?

I was just exercising.

Okay, cool.

Well, let's work out
when I get home, okay?

Get ready for school now.

Hey, our student worker's here!

Paulie, you are free to binge
Season Three

of "Gilmore Girls."

Some days I really regret
being a sociology major.

Nikki, just enjoy college,
okay?

You can regret your choice
of major in about 10 years

when you're wondering why
you're still working here.

Right, Cam?

Cam?

Frank.

Ooh! You're my hero.

You're going to the final
frontier.

Your mission is to explore new
holes,

to seek out new sensations, to
boldly go

where no husband has gone
before.

You read my blog, did ya?

It was a blog, Frank.

Now it's a fucking manual for
married men.

Frank here has convinced his
wife

to let him take the vein train
to A-town.

Dude!

You put that on the internet?

I did not use those words,
and it's on my secret blog.

You can read it.

Paul, send her a link.

Don't do that, Paul.

Meg, you remember how you
said we never try new things?

Well, wait until you hear
about the freaky shit

Frank and Laura are into.

Call me.

What?

If Meg knows that Laura's
willing,

maybe she'll dance the
chocolate cha-cha with me.

You want that, try proposing
to her.

No, no! No, thanks.

Why buy the cow if you can
punch the starfish for free?

Cameron!

What?

Nice.

I can only imagine what Meg
would say

if she heard you talking like
that.

You're gonna let Frank
play poo darts with your ass?

I have no idea what that
means,

but that is definitely
not gonna happen, Meg.

So true.

There's no way the timid
titmouse

lets Frank take a trip to
Browntown.

Shut up, Jen.

Titmouse?

'cause she's tiny and quiet
like a mouse, but with boobs?

No.

A titmouse is a small bird
that makes a lot of noise.

As kids, we went to
an exhibit at the zoo.

Laura got so embarrassed she
couldn't even say the name

and turned bright red.

Dad thought it was hilarious

and he's been calling her his
timid titmouse ever since.

That's sweet.

It's not sweet!

I mean, maybe I don't wanna be
known

as the titmouse anymore.

Maybe I'm ready to get a little
nuts.

Oh, you'll be getting
some nuts, all right.

Laura, you know we love you,

but when it comes to things
like the mommy brigade

or going outside your comfort
zone,

you're still the timid titmouse.

Why would you even make a bet
like this?

Frank, he started talking
about that old classmate of his,

you know, the writer?

And then that got us
talking about our past,

and I don't know.

He felt crappy, I felt guilty

and the bet seemed to
perk him up a little bit.

Those crappy times happened so
long ago.

It's hard to believe
they still bug you now.

I mean, most of the time it
doesn't,

but it's like a scab, you know?

You know you shouldn't pick at
it,

but you see it and it's
all yellow and crusty.

- Laura!
- And you just kinda start

picking at the pieces and
before-

- As your sister and lawyer,
you've negotiated a poor deal.

You've drastically underestimated
your prize's allure.

Our asses are an aphrodisiac.

Oh, an ass-phrodisiac!

Exactly.

50 pounds is nothing to a guy

who wants to what-what in the
butt.

Hasn't Frank ever tried
to go there before?

Yeah, of course.

Only every time he thinks
I've had too much to drink.

Cam's the same way.

I'm always having to shut that
boy down.

Me too, but you know, pinky
tip.

Every girl knows the pinky
tip.

Hell, even Cam knows the pinky
tip.

You ever had the thumb?

Thumb?

It's known as the bowler's
hold?

Jen's right about one thing.

This is every guy's fantasy.

Well, that and two girls.

I mean, look, the most
weight Frank's ever lost

is 15 pounds and that took two
months.

There's just no way he's
gonna lose 50 in three.

Well, I think we
probably should look at it

and see how he's doing in a
month.

But if he's looking good,
you may wanna prepare

to have your booty plundered.

Aaargh.

I don't wanna be plundered.

Blog people!

I'm not quite sure how the word
got out,

but suddenly my blog's viewership
numbers have increased.

Fantastic and welcome!

Dangit!

I know blogging's
kind of old-school,

but I refuse to post pictures
of my meals or tweet.

Besides, writing's what I know.

Now, I usually post about my
family

or about the struggles of being
a writer.

But I assume you wanna hear
about the bet.

It's fine.

I'm happy to report the diet's
going well.

Now, my wife's tried to throw
a few curve balls my way,

but my will is steel.

Uh, steel and rice cakes.

Hey sweetie! How'd
volleyball tryouts go?

She suddenly reminds me of
your mother.

Since you
don't know my identity,

I think it's important to
say something about the bet.

My interest in the prize
is not about male dominance

or some masochistic fetish.

You see, my wife and I met at a
young age,

so our sexual repertoire is
limited

to what we've learned together.

Which, honestly, is pretty
wonderful.

That said, my wife's "brown
button" has always been treated

like a demilitarized zone.

We explore the area, but
there's a definite border

we don't pass.

If I lose this weight though,

I'm looking forward to
playing Lewis & Clark with her

as we map out the area.

Dear Lord! How stretchy
does an asshole get?

Well, you've seen goatse.

No shit?

And then he said it was
like...

but it was this.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!

Sorry, Frank.

Time for shopping, food and fun.

We'll bring your wife back after
dinner.

I got news though!

Guess who's got two thumbs

and is now entered into
Pitchfest?

Oh, that's awesome, honey!

See, I told you your time would
come.

Yeah, I just gotta flesh out
my pitch,

prepare a full writing sample.

It's gonna take a little time.

Well, I'm getting out of your
hair,

so you're gonna have the whole
day.

Nice.

Ooh, but Teddy needs you to
proofread his progress report.

I can do that. Okay.

And Buzz!

Can you help him with
his science fair project?

Maybe have him do something

other than a baking
soda volcano this year.

He does like volcanoes.

I can...

Yeah.

And can you please
check our room for mold?

There is this funky smell in
there that's driving me crazy!

I don't know.

Maybe you need to regrout
the shower or something?

I can check, but...

- Thanks!
- Okay.

And Annie is at Noreen's
house.

Don't forget to pick her up at
four, okay?

Good luck with the writing.

Yeah!

Yeah, okay.

So where exactly are we going?

You'll see...

So that's exciting about
Frank.

Yeah, maybe you'll get lucky
and he'll be so busy writing,

he won't have time to exercise.

That'd be nice.

Frank's already halfway to his
goal

and honestly, I am freaking out.

I literally have no idea what
I'm gonna do if he makes it.

I do.

And I recommend an enema one day
prior.

Ugh!

Frank's lucky if I even brush
my teeth before we have sex.

I think you need to calm down.

This doesn't necessarily
have to be a bad thing.

As a matter of fact, it
can be pretty pleasurable

if you're prepared for it.

That's why we're going on
this little field trip,

my sweet titmouse.

Oh, and it's right up here.

Hey, Meg.

What're you drinking back there?

Chardonnay. I filled it before
we left.

Pass that on up!

Did you bring that sippy in?

So what are we looking for?

Something to help Laura
loosen up back there.

I do not like the sound of
that.

Excuse me, where are your Ben
Wa balls?

Uh, balls?

Anal beads.

As opposed to jamming a
huge rod up your backside,

you slowly pop one in at a time

until you get used to the
sensation.

Ah. Here we go.

Anything smaller than that?

Honey, anything smaller is
not gonna get the job done.

What job is she talking about?

I have no idea, but I'm
sure she's better at it

than I'll ever be.

Here. This'll help.

How, what, where?

It's your hands-free friend!

You hop in the shower,
stick this guy on the wall,

and back up onto it.

Beep!

Beep!

You know way too much about
this stuff.

It's called being single and
40.

Oh!

You're definitely gonna want
this as well.

It's the best water-based
lube on the market.

Jesus! It's Costco-sized.

And a hand-pump?

In case you have friends over!

Should I even ask?

You need this.

It will help you let
go of your frustrations

and embrace your wilder
impulses.

You'll go from titmouse to
tiger.

It's portable pleasure,
and the USB connector

makes it easy to charge.

When I'm having a crappy day
at work, I'll sit at my desk,

plug this into the computer and
kick back.

Ooh, so when you
connect to the internet,

you like, really connect.

It's great in the car too.

This little bad boy makes
Seattle traffic bearable.

Isn't that illegal or
something?

While I can confirm that
cell phone usage in the car

is illegal, hands-free devices
are well within the law.

Okay, I think we've got enough
stuff.

Can we go now?

Not yet.

If you're really gonna
go through with this,

you need to dress for it.

Nightie-type stuff from this
store?

Yeah, I don't think so.

Hey, the more excited you can
get Frank,

the quicker the whole experience
will be.

Whoo!

All right, let's see what
they've got.

Hey, honey!

Where is everyone?

Buzz is asleep, dad's in the
bedroom,

and Teddy's out having coffee

with a cheerleader from school.

Really?

Yeah, right.

He's downstairs on his computer.

Of course.

You know, speaking of hot dates,

the PTA sent out their
newsletter.

Spring formal next month.

Yeah? You ready to go shopping?

Yeah?

Okay. Sure.

Yeah! Awesome!

Ew.

That smell is still here.

Did you check for mold like I
asked?

There's no mold, and
the smell's not that bad.

Just buy a few candles.

Way ahead of you!

Ta-dah!

One lovely cucumber-scented
candle.

Awesome, 'cause there's
nothing sexier

than the smell of salad.

How did the writing go?

Between helping the kids
with homework, feeding them,

and driving them around, I
may have gotten 30 minutes

of writing in.

Kids, hmph. We should get rid
of them.

It's not just that.

I'm just realizing the
stuff I submitted is shit.

Well, I mean, honey,
it can't be that bad.

They did pick you for the
contest.

It was good enough to get me
in,

but I'm not gonna win with this.

My characters need a complete
overhaul.

I mean, I'm still making the
same mistakes

Molly and my fellow classmates
would harass me for.

I'm writing nice-guy fiction.

And I still like nice guys.

I've gotta go darker.

It's like, my main character
should have

some kind of addiction.

And the woman he's with,

maybe she went through
some kind of trauma?

Gee, fun.

And maybe they can have a
blind three-legged dog too.

I don't know.

Maybe I'll take next week
off so I can focus on it.

Wait. What?

Don't you need your vacation
days for Crater Lake?

I think this is a
little bit more important

than a trip to Oregon.

Frank, honey, that
is our family vacation.

I don't think you should give up
that time

for some long shot possibility.

Long shot.

Nice.

I knew you didn't think I
had a chance of winning.

No! You!

You were the one that
said winning Pitchfest

was a long shot.

I just don't think it's smart

to give up family time to write.

Family time?

My whole life is family time,
okay?

I eat, breathe and shit family
time!

I get a little spare time at
work to write

and maybe I get half hour
in the evening's here

if I'm not exhausted,

but if writing's supposed to
be my spare time activity,

I should just give up now.

Do you wanna go back
to the way things were?

When writing was your main focus

and I was your spare time
activity?

I know you still think about
those times.

Why does your mind even go
there?

Look, my life was on
a certain path, okay?

And then, all of a sudden, it
was forced onto another path.

Oh, so I forced you?

I don't mean forced.

I mean, I had to make a choice.

No, no, no, you said forced.

You think I forced you.

And now, everything
after that is my fault.

You blame me.

No wonder you guilted
me into this weird bet.

Guilted you?

The bet was your idea.

You're just freaking out
because you might have to do

something that doesn't fit

into your narrow definition of
normal,

which includes everything
from role-playing

"Game of Thrones" in the bedroom

to people who call
writing an actual career.

And there's the blame again.

It's not about blame, okay?

It's about choices, and I had to
make one.

It was either a potential
career in writing,

or an actual family with
you that would bring me

so much joy and happiness,

it would leak out my freaking
ass!

Daddy said the A-word.

Sorry, Buzzy. You're right.

I should've said I have a lot of
happiness

coming outta my heinie.

What are you doing up?

You and mommy were being loud.

I'm sorry about that, bud.

We'll try and be quieter, okay?

Why don't you hop back in
bed and I'll tuck you in?

Go on.

I'm sorry.

I'm just stressed.

And you're right, I'm not
gonna use my vacation time.

I'll save it for the summer.

Okay. Thanks, honey.

And I promise I'm gonna try and
give you

as much spare time as you need,
okay?

Okay.

We're good, right?

Yeah, of course.

You, me, and the kids.

Buzz stopped wetting his bed
and I got into Pitchfest,

and none of us own selfie
sticks.

It's like I said, we're taffy.

Nuts and all.

And then he gave me a hard
time about my view of normal.

I mean, why is normal so bad?

I like cooking and watching
network television,

and taking care of my family.

Maybe I get anxious
outside my comfort zone,

but it's dangerous out there!

Oh God, why did I make this bet?

Relax. It's gonna be fine.

Also, there are a lot of good
things

outside of your comfort
zone, like water slides

and edible body paints and
Groupons

for pole dancing classes.

You never know what you're
missing until you try it.

As a matter of fact, why don't
you look

inside your glove compartment.

I thought I put this back on
the shelf?

Yeah, Meg and I corrected that
mistake.

But I'm at Buzz's school.

You have five minutes until
he's out.

Why don't you take this
opportunity

to get out of your comfort zone,

and get into a really comfy
zone.

Ta-ta, my sweet titmouse!

Okay.

Carpe-freakin-diem!

Oh. Oh!

Oh, okay.

This is so...

Ooh!

Yes.

I'll just...

Hey, sleepy head! Did I wake
you?

Uh, no!

You're so lucky you have time
to nap.

Me, between work and
volunteering...

Christy, was there
something that you neeeed?

Oh, we just wanted to
talk about the bake sale!

This might not be the best
time.

It'll just take one second.

I'm going around to all parents
to...

Is that a fly in the car?

I hear...

My phone!

My phone is on vibrate.

Looks like the kids are loose!

Anyhow, I just wanted to remind
you...

Mommy! Mommy! Mrs. Burke
called on me...

Ow!

Aren't you gonna help him?

I, uhhh...

Frank! Frank wanted to, um...

The kids to, uh, first aid
themselves..?

You'll be fine, Buzzy!

Brush it off and get in the car!

I'm bleeding!

Well, you may have promised
Frank, but we didn't.

It feels like I'm
dying, mom.

Thank you so much.

Frank wanted, uh, it's Frank's
fault!

Oh, you know what? That is him
now.

I am gonna give him an earful.

'Kay. Bye!

I thought her phone was on
vibrate.

Hey, you two!

I got home from work early
today and, oh my goodness!

Rocket Pop!

Yeah.

Okay.

Don't ask.

If Child Protective Services
calls, I'm not here.

Okay.

Hey, blog readers!

I am happy to report that
there are now over 500 of you

subscribed to this blog's feed.

Thank you.

You've been a bright spot in
an otherwise challenging time.

Between the diet, working on
the pitch and life in general,

things haven't been too fun.

- She was shaking like...
- You heard buzzing?

It all reminds me of this
time I met a Hollywood producer

just after college.

Because I was recently married,

we talked a bit about our
spouses; he was on his third.

He threw his arm around me and
told me

I could have a great career or
a great family, but not both.

And that I had to make peace
with that.

Back then, I thought he was full
of shit.

Now?

I think about it, and what he
said makes my stomach hurt.

No. Mankind is counting on
you.

No! You'll thank me later!

What the fuck!

Thank you.

Come on!

Oh, God!

It seems like a choice
between family and career

is obvious, and it is, but well,

just because it's obvious
doesn't mean it's easy.

They say that no one on
their deathbed ever wishes

for one more day of work over
family.

But what if that person
was only a day away

from creating a masterpiece
that would last forever?

I mean, how many of you

can name something Shakespeare
wrote?

Okay, now tell me the
name of one of his kids.

Yeah, I know.

It's a dick thing to say,
but you've gotta admit,

the point's still valid.

Okay guys, Pitchfest is
tomorrow.

I need your help.

Oh, so you figured out your
dark and troubling character?

Yes!

It's this guy who's had a rough
childhood.

It's like "Citizen Kane,"
except the sled's a hedgehog.

And I threw a dash of Old Yeller
in there

just for good measure.

I don't know if that's
as much dark as it is sad.

No, it's dark.

It's dark.

I've gotta work on my
writing sample today,

so you guys cover for me and
I'll make it up to you later.

What's going on, guys?

For the record, this is all
Cam's doing.

What? It's just the Reddit
front page.

Look at the number one thread.

Cameron, prepare to die.

Wait, wait, wait!

Lemme explain!

Meg and I were talking
about the bet, all right?

And she didn't think that
most guys would be willing

to starve themselves for the
prize that you're getting.

So I was curious, and I
made a post about your blog.

The thread's blown up since
then!

Look, it's 42,000 views!

42,000?

Yeah! Surprised the crap outta
me too.

Maybe you'll be a meme.

Yeah, I don't think Laura'd
be too happy about that.

You didn't post this using
my real name, did you?

Just your first name.

Are you freaking high?

Calm down.

I doubt Laura and the girls
even know what Reddit is.

Hell, if they Googled "Frank
butt sex"

they'd just be one of 1,000
results.

3,780,000 results, actually.

Paul, you should probably clear
your browser history later.

Frank, all you've ever wanted

was for people to read your
stuff, and now they are!

Tons of them have left
questions for you too.

Come on, take a few minutes.

Your adoring fans await!

Yeah, you know what?

I've gotta work on my pitch.

You did this. You answer their
questions.

Seriously?

Go for it.

I don't think that word's
right.

That's definitely a guy thing.

What?

That wouldn't make any sense.

Frank, when you take your love
rocket

and you put it in her shuttle
bay, that's docking, right?

Scoot over.

Oh, that makes much more
sense.

Okay, what about the next one?

Why is this so hard?

Molly fucking Young!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Goddammit!

Goddammit!

Watch it!

The Mighty, Mighty Starbrite's
on

and she's gonna fight the Taco
King

and we find out who her mom is!

Come on, Annie!

Okay.

Are you okay, dad?

What did you do?

I kicked a chair.

Smart.

What the hell happened here?

That smell! It's driving me
nuts.

I'm sure it's mold.
Will you help me search?

Are you kidding?

I don't have time for this!

I've gotta pitch tomorrow and...

Goddangit!

What happened?

I tripped.

Hurts like hell.

Maybe we should get a
mold specialist to come out.

I'm not paying for some
guy to tear apart our house

'cause there's a barely
noticeable smell.

That smell has gotten worse
over the last few weeks.

What if we have spores?

Our family could be infected!

I am making us all doctor's
appointments for next week too.

Would you just fucking stop?

God!

Look, I just found out that
Molly

is gonna be a judge at
Pitchfest.

So I don't have time to
humor your little delusions.

There's no fungus, there's no
spores.

Mushrooms could be growing
out of our kids' asses

and it would still need to wait

till I figure out how to fix my
pitch

so Molly might like it!

Move.

I'm making the bed.

You go do whatever it
is that you need to do.

Look, just let me help you.

- No, I don't want your help.
- Come on.

Just leave.

Oh God!

Are you okay?

Yeah, great.

Just take...

What the..?

There's piss on these!

I told you I smelled
something!

That little weasel's been
lying to us!

Well, with all the pressure
you've been putting on him,

of course he has.

He's only six.

I don't care!

Buzz lied. He knew the deal.

No birthday!

What? Frank, wait, we need
to talk about this first.

Frank!

- Buzz! Buzz!
- Frank, will you slow down?

We need to talk about this.

Will you stop?

Jeez! God, you're insane, you
know that?

You've got this big fear
of how everybody sees you,

so you just want
everything to look normal.

But in doing that, you
just bounce back and forth

between boring and psycho!

Well, at least I don't spend
my days

making everybody else miserable!

God! You are so blind, Frank!

You can't even see how
amazing your own family is

right in front of your face.

I thought writers were
supposed to be observant.

That must make you a real shitty
one.

Cameron, dude, I'm coming
over.

I'm sore, hungry, and pissed,

so you better have some alcohol
ready.

Oh yeah, and tell Meg
to hide in the bedroom,

'cause I'm gonna vent about
Laura and I'm not holding back.

Shit. No, she's calling on the
other line.

No, I'm not gonna answer.

Look, I'm gonna go radio silent.

Yeah, great. I'll see you in a
few.

Nice place you got here, Cam.

Very Norman Bates.

That's Master Bates to you,
sir.

That's diet grape soda and
vodka.

I'm not letting you ruin your
diet

just 'cause you're in a mood.

Like the bet's still on after
everything that's happened.

Dude, no! It has to happen.

Beg for forgiveness!

Me? After what she said?

Come on, it doesn't matter
who's at fault, you know that.

Women say crazy shit all the
time.

We just apologize

and then we bang out
our frustrations later.

It's part of our genetical code.

You know, I am often glad
you've never reproduced.

Aw, thanks buddy!

I don't even know if I'm more
pissed

about being called a shitty
husband or a shitty writer.

Is that sad?

Yes.

Now say you're sorry so I can
visit Uranus

vicariously through you.

Hello?

Yeah, yeah, he's here.

Nikki's looking for you.

Hey, Nikki.

Sorry, I left my phone in the
car.

What's up?

Okay, so, don't freak out,

but it seems that a few
clickbait sites

found your Reddit thread and
have posted

parts of it to their sites.

And, unfortunately, some of
my friends found that online

and started posting to their
Facebooks,

tagging me and mentioning

how I worked with that butt sex
guy.

This is gonna get bad, isn't
it?

They also figured out that
we're friends on Facebook

and started tagging
you in their posts too.

Please tell me you're joking.

Frank, you and Laura are
kinda all over the internet.

Do you know if Laura's seen
it?

I don't know, but Jen has.

Then Laura has too.

Crap.

Gotta go.

That was my fault.

Oh, was it, Cam?

Big fucking idiot. I swear to
God.

Well, you know what?

What?

I love you too.

Oh, I love you.

Laura?

Laura, are you upstairs?

Laura?

Laura, are you...

Okay, so, I know you're angry
and I know you wanna scream,

but for the sake of our sleeping
children,

maybe you can be mad at
me at a moderate volume?

Okay, good.

So are you angrier about the
blog or the Reddit thread?

I'll start with the blog.

It just started as a writing
exercise.

I honestly didn't think
anybody was gonna read it.

I mean, we're kinda boring.

Not you! Me!

I'm boring! I'm a writer.

- Who wants to read about a...
- Just stop.

You know, if we just...

But I was thinking...

You know what?

I give up.

You win.

Here, let me help you.

You know, I try and I try

to make you happy,

to make our kids happy,

to make a nice home for
you, but I guess I failed.

No, it's not you, okay?

It's me.

No, in your blog, you're
either talking

about how frustrated you are,

or you're making fun of
the things that I do.

Everybody's laughing at the
titmouse!

I'm not making fun of you,
okay?

It's just, I'm sharing stories

where you do things that are
funny.

There's a difference.

Screw you!

What are you doing?

I told you.

You win.

In your blog, you go on and on

about how you can't achieve your
dreams

because of your family.

Well, you know what?

We're gonna mark one of those
dreams off the list tonight.

You're gonna fuck me in the ass.

Honey, stop!

Okay, stop.

No, stop.

No, you know what? You
don't get to do that!

Because then I've gotta hear

about another one of your
dreams that I've destroyed!

That's not what I said!

Bullshit.

I read your blog.

In addition to sharing all of
our secrets,

you're always fixated on our one
bad year

and wondering how things
would've been different

if you chose differently.

Look, I'm a writer,
that's just what we do.

We think and wonder about our
lives,

and then we write about it.

It's normal to wonder.

No. Not the way that you do
it.

When I wonder about my life,
an idea pops in my head,

and it swirls around a little
bit, and then it leaves.

And then I go back to thinking
how amazing my life is.

But you, you just fixate
on that one decision

again and again and again and
again!

Look, I...

You were gonna leave me.

I didn't feel like I
had a real choice, okay?

In all your musings,

you act as if it all came down
to you.

And that's just not the case.

The fact that we're still
together,

that's not about some choice you
made.

It's about the choice that I
made.

So this is it!

This is your one big
chance to fulfill a dream

and hang a big mission
accomplished banner on your dick!

So take advantage of this now

or you're gonna lose my ass
forever.

Honey, that's not what I want.

Just, here, come on.

It's fine! That's just fine.

It's done.

Blog about that.

I'm good! All good!

Dude, it's my fault
about the post on Reddit.

I'm sorry, man.

Is there anything I can do?

Maybe you'd feel better if you
put

some of Cameron's secrets on
your blog?

Nah.

I mean, what would I even post?

Cameron likes a pinky tip
up his ass during sex?

Dude!

Don't worry, we all do.

So, how bad are things?

I slept on the couch last
night.

That's never happened before.

God, I've been an idiot for a
while now.

It's like someone slapped
me across the face

and said, "Wake up!"

Well, I'm awake now and I've
shit the bed.

It's too bad you can't hide
the sheets like Buzz, right?

Uh, Nikki, you forgot this!

Hey, Frank? Can I ask you
something?

Sure, Paulie?

So I've read your blog, and
I know you wanna be a writer.

But you've never really
said why you wanna write.

Is it fame?

Is it money?

No, it's neither of those
things.

I guess I have this need to
make people feel something.

It's like, I wanna leave
something behind after I'm gone

that makes a difference.

Dude, if that's all you want,

you don't never need to write
again.

What do you mean?

I mean, you and that
blog make people feel.

Tons.

Believe it or not, you were a
factor

in convincing me to get married.

No shit? You're married?

Plus, when it's your time to
go,

you are gonna be leaving behind
an awesome wife and kids.

And I can guarantee that's
gonna make a bigger difference

in this world than any
stupid fucking novel.

Huh.

Go home.

Fix things.

And hey, if the bet's
still on and you do win,

check with me first.

Me and my hubby know all the
good stuff.

Did you guys know Paulie
was married? And gay?

I didn't even know
the fucker could talk.

But he's right, Frank.

You have to square this
up with Laura right now.

It'll get your mind right
for Pitchfest this afternoon.

Pitchfest?

I can't even imagine going now.

It just seems so stupid and
unimportant after everything.

Yeah, I get that, but it's
fate that it's happening here,

and you don't fuck
around with fate, Frank.

Yeah?

Well, fate's been fucking with
me lately.

And some of the stuff
he wrote in that blog?

I mean, God!

Oh, I don't know.

Aside from a few embarrassing
incidents,

I think you come off pretty
good.

How?

Anybody that googles my
name now finds a website

where I sell my ass for a skinny
husband!

Laura, you may have seen the
blog,

but did you actually go through
it?

Here, listen to this...

July 16th, my wife is nuts.

Oh, great start.

My wife is nuts.

She believes the ghost of her
grandmother

floats around our home
making the lights flicker.

And when a butterfly flies by,

it's her dead aunt with a
message.

She even thinks some of her
email spam

contains messages from a higher
power.

I mean, he took that out of
context!

Let me finish.

My wife believes all
sorts of crazy things,

but I've gotta say, I
wish I was nuts like her.

The way she sees the world is
magical.

She sees beauty and hope where
none exist.

That's the only thing I can
think of

that would explain her faith in
me,

and I'm eternally grateful for
it.

That's not bad.

You think?

Laura, if a little public
humiliation

is the cost of having someone

who can always see the best in
you,

I'd pay it in a heartbeat.

Jen, I gotta go.

Buzz!

Honey, what happened?

We were talking about Jonah's
birthday

and he's gonna have a Car Wars
party,

and they asked me what kind
of party I'm gonna have,

and I heard daddy last night.

So I said I can't turn seven
because...

Because he still goes
pee-pee in his sleep!

Honey.

Hey! Don't laugh.

We've all got problems, okay?

Maybe, but I don't wet my bed.

Maybe you don't, but
your mother did tell me

that you like to put on
her bra and high heels

and prance around the house.

And Charlie, Sarah, I don't
know why you guys are laughing.

Your mother told me you two

still like to take baths
together.

I'm not even gonna guess the
issues you two are gonna have

when you get older.

And Drew, really?

Your mother told me
you're not even showering

'cause you don't wanna get your
head wet.

You need to get over
that soon because, honey,

you smell like a rotten banana.

Nasty.

Look, did you guys learn a
lesson here?

Okay, just shake hands,
apologize and get outta here.

Sorry, Buzz.

Thanks, mama.

No one messes with my boy,
okay?

No one.

We're a team, right?

And we've always got each
other's back.

Oh, I thought I read that
Frank

was going to have your backside.

Sorry, I couldn't resist.

Your husband is such
an entertaining writer.

We know now why you always
have that frazzled look.

He, um, that's...

Hey!

Yes, Buzz.

My mommy is the prettiest
and smartest mommy there is!

Yes, sweetie.

Every boy thinks that about his
mama.

Nuh-uh.

Xander's never said that about
you.

Now, I want you to say,

my mommy is the prettiest and
smartest!

Sure.

Your mommy is the prettiest
and smartest mommy.

Say it with no
passing-addresses.

Your mommy is the prettiest
and smartest mommy there is.

Bye, ladies!

Oh boy, you are getting the
biggest birthday party ever!

Can I have a volcano fountain?

You bet! The biggest
volcano fountain ever!

As a matter of fact, let's go
to the party store right now.

- Yay!
- Yay!

Laura, you home?

Ah, hey.

Gee, it's great to see you
too.

Sorry, I was expecting your
mom.

You went to the mall?

Did you buy anything exciting?

Socks.

Neat.

Did you get a dress or
anything for the school dance?

Dad, I don't wanna talk about
it.

It's just girl stuff.
You wouldn't understand.

I dunno. I can be pretty
darn girly when I want.

Why don't you give me a try?

I hate shopping.

Now see, we're off to a good
start.

I hate shopping too.

No, I like going shopping but,

when I try on clothes...

Nothing fits quite right?

Honey, I understand that way
better

than you could ever imagine.

Maybe you used to,
but you're skinny now.

I'm skinnier, but most clothes
still don't fit me right.

What do you mean?

I mean, like you, I
have a special body shape.

Thanks to the gift of genetics,

you and I have a similar
build as to my mother.

We have strong, thick
bones, solid middles,

and butts that won't quit.

It's just hard sometimes,

'cause I'm not as fast
as I wanna be and, well,

guys don't always think of you

when it comes to school dances.

Hey, you have no idea
how gorgeous you are.

No lie.

Maybe it's my fault for not
telling you more, but...

Oh, fuck!

Let me go check what that is.

I'll be back in one minute,
okay?

Hey, buddy!

Whatcha got there?

My report card.

Can I see?

This is great!

You got five A's and a B+.

No. I got three A's, two
A minuses, and a B plus.

Yeah, but the B plus is in
Spanish.

And A, A minus, who cares?

MIT does.

The average GPA for admission is
4.13.

What? How does a person
get higher than a 4.0?

AP classes.

This sucks.

I'm working super-hard,
and it's not enough!

I just...

I'll never...

Never..?

I'll never do as good as you.

You were valedictorian in high
school.

You got scholarships.

You won awards and stuff.

You've done everything.

Teddy, that's a very
selective look at history.

Trust me, I've failed way
more than I've succeeded.

Here's the thing.

Life doesn't turn out the way we
plan,

but we wouldn't want it to.

It'd be boring.

The exciting stuff that happens
in life

is everything we don't plan.

The unexpected wins.

Falling in love.

We just need to appreciate
each moment in life

for what it is.

You and me both.

I owe you and your sister an
apology.

Hell, I owe an apology to
everybody in this house.

I've been so focused on myself,

I haven't even noticed what
you guys are going through.

It's okay.

No, it's not.

When your mom and Buzz get home,

we're gonna go out and
we're doing something fun.

Wait, dad, we can't.

You've got Pitchfest.

Screw Pitchfest. I'm not
going.

I don't really think-

- You're right.

You're not thinking.

Annie, get in here!

Get this.

Dad thinks he's skipping out on
Pitchfest.

Yeah, no. You're going.

Put on a clean shirt, Teddy'll
drive,

and I'll text mom that
we'll meet her there.

Yeah, I'm not really sure your
mom...

Dad, we've gotta appreciate
each moment, right?

What did I ever do to
deserve kids like you?

You and mom survived one bad
year.

Now, go get ready.

Come on!

Let's go.

Who's texting, mommy?

It's your sister.

She and Teddy are taking your
dad to his Pitchfest thing.

So we're meeting them there?

Actually, I didn't think we
were going.

That's why I brought
you to the party store.

Besides, it's on the other side
of town.

What? We have to go!

Daddy needs us.

Buzz, your father will be
fine,

and it's rush hour traffic right
now.

And look, don't you wanna go
inside

and check out all the party
stuff?

Later. I don't wanna miss dad.

Right.

Look, your dad and I, we got
in an argument and, honestly,

I don't know if it'll be
that helpful if I'm there.

Mom, we're going.

It's what good families do.

Besides, we're taffy, right?

Us sweet nuts gotta stick
together!

And our second judge is
Margaret Smalls,

professor of literature at
Shorewood Community College

and author of "The Misogyny of
Hemingway."

Hey, you came!

Ha, that's what she said.

Yeah, well, I wasn't
given much of a choice.

So I miss anything good?

They listed the order of
the pitches, and you're last.

Works for me.

Anything else?

And our final judge
is novelist Molly Young.

With her recent success, it's
obvious

that she knows a thing or two
about the art of the pitch.

Hey, any word from your mom
yet?

No, not yet.

She's probably on her way
though.

Don't worry, there's a lot
of pitches up before yours.

She'll make it.

And now it's time for our
first entry,

as Helen Rotaru comes to the
stage

to pitch us on her new
book, "A Taste for Life."

My book is for woman who is
suffering

from post-partum depression.

These recipes gonna bring you
back from the sad moments.

These recipes, with placenta,

you can make smoothies and stew.

You're gonna enjoy so much-

- Did she just say placenta?

This is gonna be fun.

Buckle up.

This is my book,
"Suicide Begins With S."

My story is about a teenage
boy

who suffers from depression.

The lifelong relationship
between a woman and her dog.

The next great young adult
fantasy novel

is a 2800 page epic.

My story is called "The Man
Bun Killer."

Two topics that are extremely
dear

to the tween girl heart.

Allow me to elaborate.

One, unicorns.

And two, systemic racism and
bloody violent social upheaval.

W is for wrist, a boring way
to die.

Slice down not across, or
don't even bother to try.

And so she met these guys

and spiked their kombucha.

Performance enhancing drugs.

I mean, that's what any good
pinball player would take,

any good athlete will tell you.

Curry placenta, jambalaya
placenta.

And then, plot twist.

The horses are the colonialist
Christian white oppressors.

It's not as easy as they
make it look in the movies.

If you use a knife, it
doesn't cut through the bone.

He gets a call from
his doctor telling him

that he has testicular cancer.

These little balls, when you
bite, it pops in your mouth.

Just day in and day out,
smelting balls.

People who are not
used to eating placenta,

they definitely are gonna like
the pate.

He tried out some
crack cocaine, you know?

Just as one does.

And they even, in a primal
ceremony,

dose him with mescaline and
endow him

with his own unicorn horn.

Everybody knows once you try
crack,

you really can never return
to where you once were before.

Puts the bodies in five
different bags.

And she realizes that unicorns

are really just horses with
horns

and there's no difference
between them.

Rainy days bring me joy,
of that there is no doubt.

Make you feel like you are
swallowing your kid's soul.

But sunny days and kittens

make me want to blow my brains
out.

And finally, the crescendo.

Placenta scramble, and
avocados on the side.

Maybe she kept the man buns
though.

They're soft.

"Dances with Wolves"
meets "My Little Pony."

Namaste.

And all of this happens on
Christmas.

Thank you.

Okay.

So we're down to our
last pitch of the day.

Following this, the judges
will tally their scores

and announce our winner.

So without further ado, will
Frank Tsigas

please come to the stage?

- Yeah.
- Come on, come on, come on.

Go, Frank.

My name is Frank Tsigas,
which is what he just said.

So my pitch today...

Oops! Sorry!

Please, do continue with
your pitch, kind sir.

So my pitch today is a little
different

than anything else you've
probably heard.

It's about a guy.

A nice guy, who's relatively
unexceptional

except for one thing, his
family.

He has a family unlike any
family that's ever existed.

He has a wife that means more to
him

than anything in the world.

They met young, and instead
of doing that dance people do

where they break up and get
back together a dozen times,

they just stayed together
because they knew

how rare a love like theirs was.

Now, sometimes this guy
took this love for granted,

so his wife had to smack him.

But every time he got smacked,

his appreciation for his
wife grew a thousandfold

and fortunately, he grew
a little less foolish.

And because this couple
had this amazing love,

they were able to create
three amazing kids.

Their oldest was a boy,
and he was the kind of kid

every couple wishes they
could have as their first.

His heart was an open book,
and anybody who met him

just knew he would
change the world one day.

Their second child was a girl,

and she was the definition of
joy.

She had a light within her that
shined

on all those lucky enough
to enter her orbit.

She was a sunflower, bright and
strong.

Now, a couple with two
great kids might think

they're pushing their luck with
a third.

I mean, they could end
up with some horrible kid

who grows up to be an Instagram
celebrity or something.

Fortunately, they had
an awesome little boy

who was observant, funny and
adventurous.

He possessed more power
than an atomic bomb,

and he made their family
perfectly complete.

Aw, somebody wuvs you.

The man has a way with words.

True, but it doesn't
look like the judges

appreciate it much.

And the nice guy was looking
up

when he should've been looking
down,

but his family always brought
him around.

He realized his good fortune,

and the nice guy was just oh-so
grateful.

Nice kids, nice wife, nice life.

But wait!

The story of this couple
is only beginning.

Because... because this "nice"
guy

and his "nice" wife...

they have a, uh...

A dark and disturbing secret!

Yes! A secret.

And do you know what that secret
was?

Do you know?

Ummm...

Yes!

It was a sexy secret, about sex!

You see, this nice guy, he
was into all kinds of weird,

perverted sexual acts.

Stuff his nice wife never
could have imagined.

I mean, he was a sexual deviant.

Deviant seems like a strong
word.

Deviant! Yes.

He was into stuff like role-playing
with costumes and props,

like, spatulas and ice cubes,
and, uh...

stuffed animals.

But then it got dangerous!

And the wife discovered
the more dangerous it got,

the more she liked it!

Really?

Yes, she liked it in the
story.

It was kind of like she was
becoming addicted to his...

His, ummm...

Rocket Pop!

Stop! I wanna see!

Oh yeah! She was really
addicted to that Rocket Pop!

I like Rocket Pops!

Teddy, cover his ears!

Who's gonna cover my ears?

As things were starting to
get a little bit dangerous,

she started thinking,

how far is this gonna go?

We just can't keep going like
this.

So she decides to make
her husband an offer.

An offer that, apparently,
every guy on the planet wants.

Two girls at a time!

Butt sex!

Oh.

And she thinks if I have
this one-night only event

that this is gonna cure him,

cure both of them of
their forbidden desires.

So the night of the big event
comes,

and the husband and wife,
they ready themselves.

No, no, no, no, no.
Please let this be a dream.

A very bad dream.

Come on! Wake up, wake up,
wake up!

And they start things slowly,
carefully,

his big salami meat thing
in her butt-space-hole.

It's like a car crash.

A really sexy car crash.

What is wrong with you?

The more that it's going on,

the more she's kind of
finding she's enjoying it.

She does?

Once again, in the story.

But then, all of a sudden,

they're farther into the
depravity,

and then they're farther,
and then they're deeper,

and then they're really
farther and deeper,

and farther and deeper.

And then, Mr. and Mrs.
Nice kind of realize

that they've lost themselves
in a sexual abyss.

Forever searching for
darker and crazier ways

to satisfy their sexual beasts
within.

Uh, I mean, the end.

Namaste.

Hey, I missed it!

What happened to the
nice guy and his wife?

Did she get a Rocket Pop?

Sorry, but we can't seem to
locate your writing sample.

Oh, you know what?

That's gonna give you the
most accurate representation

of his writing.

I promise, you're gonna love it.

Okay.

Thank you, contestants.

I think our judges are going
to have a very hard time

finding a winner from this
group, but they're gonna try.

Let's give them five minutes
to tally their scores.

While I really appreciated
your pitch,

it didn't seem like the
judges were that into it.

That's why I did what I did.

I hope that's okay.

Ummm...

Thoughts?

Yeah.

I'm telling Jen the titmouse is
dead.

Look, I've got so much to
apologize for.

My attitude, I'll fix it.

The blog, I can end it.

No, just stop.

I forgive you for everything.

And I want you to keep blogging.

You're a writer, and a
really good one at that.

Okay, but for every whiny
post I write in the future,

I'm gonna write three
posts about how lucky I am.

Oh, you better!

Hello, everyone.

I've been asked to announce the
winners

of this year's Pitchfest, but
before I do,

I wanna say that you were all
great.

So let's start with our
runner-up.

Michael Hodges for "A
Darker Shade of Black."

And now, the moment that
you've all been waiting for.

The winner of this year's
Pitchfest...

Delilah Moonraven for
"Suicide Begins With S."

Oh my God! Oh my God!

I am so sorry, honey.

Thank you.

Look, don't be.

I like my story, our story, a
lot better.

Look, we need to go out
as a family tonight.

We need to just celebrate.

That sounds really nice,

but won't going out ruin your
diet?

You said it last night, the
bet's over.

No.

You worked really hard
and I made a promise,

but you still gotta meet the
deadline.

Actually, that's probably a good
thing,

because I've still gotta
catch up on my training.

Training?

My dear anonymous readers,

thank you for coming back to the
blog.

I was thinking my numbers might
go down

after my identity was exposed,

so I was surprised when they
grew, and they grew a lot!

Hang on for some updates.

It's not gonna hurt.

It's gonna be fun.

Yes!

Oooh!

It's a little poke.

Like a little tap.

I'm just gonna tap it in.

Just tap.

So, do you remember
that Hollywood producer

who told me I could
either have a great career

or a great family?

Was he ultimately right?

I can't say for sure,

but I know I made the
choice that's right for me.

Besides, I recently heard
that producer was hit

with a bunch of sexual
harassment lawsuits

and his wife is leaving him
so, you know, fuck that guy.

Come on, Laura!

Don't be the titmouse.

Just put it in your butt. It's
fun.

Lately, I've started
to believe

that the definition of success

is being able to enjoy what you
have.

Everybody expects
you to be the titmouse,

but you're gonna be fun, Laura.

You can be the fun one.

I can be fun!

Now, does this
mean you shouldn't want more?

Well, hell no, but the
more should be looked at

as the cherry on top of a
sundae.

It's not really necessary.

It's just a tiny addition to
something

that's already pretty great.

Beep.

Beep.

And of course
I'm talking about ice cream

because I'm nearing the end of
my diet.

It's almost prize time!

Now, for those of you expecting
to read a graphic account

of the event, well, there's
fanfiction sites for that.

Boardwalk! You owe me a
thousand bucks!

Okay, maybe I will post
something,

but expect it to be vague
with lots of euphemisms.

USA!

After all, what happens in
Browntown stays in Browntown.

USA! USA!

USA!

Oh beeeeeeeep...

Laura, honey?

I dropped the kids off with your
folks!

They're ready for their
sleepover.

We're all good!

So how would you like to
begin this romantic evening?

Huh.

Looks like you have some
romantic ideas of your own.

Laura?

That's what I was going for.

For you.

Thanks for the roses.

Yes, most definitely.

Oh.

Okay, you just wanna get right
down to it?

Honey, I've been getting ready

since you left with the kids.

So, yeah.

Are you nervous?

I feel like that dog
that chases the car.

Once they catch the car,
I don't know what to do.

Well, let's get you undressed

and see if we can't figure
something out.

Ooh! I've got a little
something sexy planned.

Just one second.

Oh, helping me get my daily
potassium?

You know, it has a-peel.

Oh yes, it does.

And it's ripe!

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

If your plan is to get me all
hot n' heavy

so I won't make it to the
end, that's a good plan.

Look, we can just do
regular stuff tonight.

A deal's a deal.

You put up your end, so...

Now I get your end?

Sorry.

I'm gonna miss these
puns when they're gone.

Give up the puns, and
there's a better chance

this can happen again.

Really?

Well, we'll only know
if we give it a try.

Do we have any lubrication?

It has a pump?

Huh.

Geez.

I haven't been this nervous
since our first time doing it.

Nervous or excited?

Both.

How about you?

Both.

Are you ready?

Here goes, um, something.

Oh my God!

Oooh.

I love bananas.

Dipped in strawberry volcano
fountain?

Yes! Genius!

Want some nuts to go with your
'nana?

Cameron! I thought you were
better than jokes like that.

He's not.

Did you enjoy it? Did she
enjoy it?

You brown-trouting son
of a bitch, I'm so horny.

Are you gonna do it again?

Yeah, I'm not answering
any of those questions.

Frank, come on, you've
gotta give me a hint.

Give me something.

Fuck it! Spill it!

Uhhh...

Aargh!

No way.

I'm not answering any questions

about what did or didn't happen.

You're just gonna have
to use your imagination.

Okay, please stop using your
imagination!

Oh, calm down.

Even in my mind, you're
still kinda boring.

Gee, thanks.

You know, maybe one of you wanna
share

some intimate details about your
sex life?

So Cameron finally
asked me to marry him.

I just had to make him
an offer like Laura's.

What?

And how is that gonna
lead to nuptials that last?

Simple.

I said he can't cash in until
our 10th wedding anniversary.

If you need help writing
that prenuptial agreement,

you let me know.

Okay, so Nikki and Paulie
are here and so are the girls.

Thank you.

So what's this big news that
you said about in your email?

You guys make another bet?

No.

So about a week after Pitchfest,

I got an email from my
old classmate, Molly.

And because Laura mentioned
my blog in the pitch,

Molly read it and she loved it.

And then she told her agent
about it, her agent loved it,

and now the agent is
working on a book deal

to publish my blog and
the story of our bet.

Oh my God! And you're okay
with that?

Yeah, sure. It's no big deal.

Yeah, it became less of a big
deal

when I said we could use the
book advance

for a family trip to Hawaii.

I was getting sick of Oregon.

- Buzz!
- Buzz, a happy birthday.

We've gotta wish you a happy
birthday!

We've got cake!

Here we go.

Okay, since I'm to blame
for this blog's fame,

if this gets made into a movie,

I get to be played by The Rock!

If he gets to be played by The
Rock,

you're writing us a sex scene!

No.

Okay, first, I never wanna
picture this guy having sex.

And secondly, I think that's
kinda putting the cart

before the horse.

I can't really see any
studio wanting to make a film

of my blog.

I mean, what kinda demented
individual

would wanna sit through a family
comedy about butt-fucking?

Oh, Nikki!

My new agent wants me to
keep up my social interaction

with my blog fans, so
I've set up a livestream.

Could you get us while we sing
happy birthday to this guy?

All right.

Okay.

Happy birthday.

So, what'd you wish for?

I wanna go to the
happiest place on earth!

No way. We're not switching
out Hawaii for Disneyland.

Not Disneyland!

I heard daddy talking to Uncle
Cameron.

He said the happiest place
on earth is Browntown!

I wanna go too!

Browntown! Browntown!

Browntown!

Browntown!

Nikki, cut!

No way.

Browntown!

Browntown! Browntown!

BROWNTOWN!