Gilmore Girls (2000–2007): Season 7, Episode 5 - The Great Stink - full transcript
Emily and Richard are delighted when Lorelai and Christopher attend Friday night dinner together as a couple. Christopher reveals that Sherry has written him a letter saying she regrets leaving their daughter, G.G., and asking him to send G.G. to visit her in Paris. Lorelai can't believe that Chris would consider this and they get into an argument over dinner. Logan returns to town on business to acquire an internet company and pays Rory a surprise visit. Rory is thrilled, but during a dinner with Logan's colleagues, she realizes that she has no connection to his new business world, and is especially threatened by one of his beautiful co-workers. Meanwhile, Stars Hollow is plagued by a terrible odor when a train with a full load of pickles derails, and Taylor refuses to pay for the cleanup.
Okay. Toothbrush, hairbrush,
hypoallergenic pillow,
chenille blanket --
ooh, comfort shoes.
- Got them.
- Those are your comfort shoes?
- Not mine -- Paul Anka's.
- We're staying in tonight.
You can probably
get away with flats.
He loves, loves,
loves chewing on these.
They remind him of
a squirrel carcass.
- Yummy.
- Don't judge.
You eat jerky like it's
going out of style.
So, all this stuff
is for Paul Anka?
No, not all.
The toothbrush is mine.
- Lorelai.
- What?
It's his first night
staying at your house.
I want him to have all the stuff
that makes him comfortable.
Ooh -- tennis balls!
I actually have tennis balls.
- Penn or Wilson?
- You're joking.
Paul Anka's must be Penn.
They must be new,
they must be green --
not orange and green,
just green.
And FYI, you might want to watch
that sarcastic tone of yours
because dogs are very
attuned to tone.
It's kind of like chinese,
in that respect, dog language.
It's very tone based.
And you are stressing him
out right now with your tone.
The dog is stressed?
Look at him.
And when he gets like this,
you need to talk to him in
sweet and dulcet tones.
Hi, Paul Anka.
Ooh, hi, boy! Hi!
- Get it?
- Got it.
Good. Sunglasses.
This is not normal.
I want you to know that.
The dog wears Ferragamos?
Oh, please.
Don't give him any ideas.
These are mine.
All right, let's go.
You take this, this, and this.
Come on.
What are you waiting for?
Oops. Here, Paul Anka.
Hey.
- Hey, you watching it?
- What?
- The meteor shower.
- What meteor shower?
It was on the news. The BBC said
there's some huge meteor shower tonight.
I thought we could
watch it together.
Uh, Logan, I have been in the
library for the past nine hours.
I don't know anything
about any meteor showers.
I could use a regular
shower, though.
Go up on the roof
and check it out.
- Now?
- Yes, now!
It's supposed to start
in like two minutes.
Ace! This is once-in-a-lifetime
celestial event. Get going.
Okay, okay.
I'm getting. I'm going.
Are you running?
I'm running! I'm running!
Who knew you were such
an astronomy buff?
Hurry!
What has gotten into you?
Nice night.
Oh, my god!
You're here!
What are you doing here?
Happy to see me?
Beyond happy! Ecstatic!
I can't believe you're here!
And look at me --
I'm covered in highlighter ink
and I smell like
Fritos and Ginger ale.
It's an aphrodisiac.
You're here and
you did all this?
You like?
I love,
but you didn't have to do this.
I mean, you're here. It's enough.
It's more than enough.
Could you shut up now
so I can kiss you?
- So there is no meteor shower?
- No meteor shower.
So you used the entire
cosmos to trick me?
I like to think big.
So, what is going on?
Why are you here?
I'm kissing my
girlfriend on the roof.
But why?
The Fritos and Ginger ale thing.
I told you, huge turn-on.
Explain yourself.
I'm just here for a
quick business trip.
- How quick?
- Too quick.
How quick is "too quick"?
I have 10:00 flight back
to London tomorrow night.
Oh, that is too quick.
That website my team has
been trying to buy --
the owners finally agreed to sit down,
talk to us tomorrow over breakfast.
Logan! That's great, right?
I mean, three weeks ago,
they weren't even taking your calls.
It is great.
However, not as exciting
as kissing my
girlfriend on the roof.
- Um, so, what's that amazing smell?
- Food from Ibiza.
The island?
The tapas place downtown.
Ooh, did you get the duck?
I did.
- And the short ribs?
- Yes. And...
Ooh! A 2003 red something.
I bet it's very oaky and
corky and full of fruity legs.
Know a lot about wine, do you?
Not so much,
but the label's pretty.
There's also gazpacho, that
cheese-pie thing you love, plus flan.
Ooh, flan! You got me flan?
Doesn't take much to make you happy,
does it?
Not when you're on
this continent.
Okay, why don't you open this wine?
I want to taste those fruity legs,
and I'll make you a
plate with extra flan.
Okay.
Ooh, I'm so glad you're here!
Stop! You're killing my Tivo.
I'm not killing it. I'm composing on it.
I'm composing a symphony.
- Finally, an instrument I can play.
- Give me that.
- No, no, no!
- Give me!
- Not until you explain your choices.
- What?
"The View"? "Girlfriends"?
"S?bado Gigante"?
Who controls this thing,
you or Pedro Almod?var?
It's the nanny.
Sure, it's a likely story.
Give me, give me, give me.
Did G.G. get to sleep okay?
She did. I tried to skip to
the end of "Cinderella,"
but she wouldn't let me.
It's my own fault.
My wicked stepsister
voice kills.
She's amazing, you know?
That reminds me.
Oh, no! You're not gonna show
me some of her art, are you?
I never know what to
say in those situations.
I mean, even when it was Rory's art,
you know?
Three blue finger smudges
and some construction paper.
It's not precocious.
It's just messy.
Here. This came a
couple of days ago.
It's from Sherry.
From Sherry?
Yeah, it's the first I've heard from
her since the divorce was final.
Go ahead. Read it.
Wow, how "dangerous
liaisons" of her.
She doesn't call.
She doesn't e-mail.
Then she sends you a
letter with a wax seal
that weighs roughly the
same as a porterhouse.
Well, she had a lot to say.
Gosh. It's a lot of sorry.
Yeah, 15 pages worth.
Believe me, I was not expecting this.
Humility is not a side of
Sherry I've ever seen before.
I don't know if it's the yoga
or the yoga instructor or --
Yoga instructor?
Yeah, she's dating her yoga instructor,
Jean-Claude or Jean-Pierre --
one of those names that
always sounds fake.
Anyway, it sounds like
she's really changed.
She feels awful about what happened,
run away like that,
and she wants to find a way to
be part of G.G.'s life again.
- Honey, that's great.
- Right?
Yeah.
So, you got this two days ago
and you're showing it to me now.
Well, I was gonna show it to
you a couple of days ago,
but then I figured you
were coming over, so...
- No, I'm not criticizing.
- You're not?
No, I'm complimenting --
badly, obviously.
But I'm complimenting.
You shared it with me.
I kind of thought that was how the
whole adult-relationship thing worked.
You know, openness, honesty.
Interesting.
And you're sure you don't want
to stash it away somewhere
and then I find it -- accidentally,
of course -- months from now,
and I get all weird and insecure about
why you didn't show it to me sooner?
I'm good with the sharing.
All right.
It's another way to go.
That glass slipper
will fit my foot.
That was my wicked
stepsister voice.
Yeah, I figured.
I'm so happy.
Me too.
You know you can't
do this in London?
The city lights are so bright,
you almost never see the stars.
Yeah, but it's London.
Wait, are you tired of London?
I'm tired of not
being around you.
Yeah, but you can't
be tired of London.
Samuel Johnson said,
"when you're tired of London,
you're tired of life."
Obviously, the man was never in
a long-distance relationship.
That's true.
Boswell did keep quite close.
- What are you doing?
- Nothing.
You're trying to sneak
a peek at my watch.
Well, I just can't believe it.
I can't believe you're here.
And I can't believe that you're leaving
in only 26 hours and 45 minutes.
Come on, think positive -- that's
an entire lifetime to a fruit fly.
Actually, you're
thinking of a mayfly.
Fruit flies can live for up to a month.
So what do you think?
Can you stay for a month?
I mean, what if your meeting
tomorrow goes really, really well?
I hope it does.
It will. It's a great idea.
It's basically myspace.
But by invitation only.
And it'll be like an online
version of the Algonquin Group,
like throwing a
party in your head
where everyone you've ever
wanted to talk to is there --
Ira Glass, Sofia Coppola,
Flaubert, Danger Mouse.
The deal's not done yet.
Far from it.
These guys aren't just gonna
hand over their website
because we buy them breakfast.
They might. Tell them that they
can order pancakes and eggs.
Don't make them choose.
Sausage, bacon, fruit, potatoes --
let them get the whole combo.
'Cause then they will have to sell
it to you. It'd be rude not to.
You are a business genius, Ace.
Well, I'm taking econ
with my grandpa.
Whatever happens,
we'll be ready.
We've been working our asses off on
this one -- Nick, Bobby, Phillip.
Oh, yes -- Phillip, Nick, Bobby.
The team. Starting lineup.
It is a classic win-win.
They give us a foothold in new media.
We give them a huge influx of capital,
which they need.
Believe me, when it comes to debt
versus equity, they're screwed.
They have no liquidity,
huge expenses, zero revenue.
I mean, the targeted
advertising potential alone --
What? What are you staring at?
You, "Mr. Debt Versus Equity."
- Are you mocking me?
- Yeah, but I like it.
Tell me more about this um,
targeted advertising potential.
What do you want to know?
There's pay-per-click,
pay-per-lead, banner ads,
pixel tagging.
Oh, stop.
I'm getting weak at the knees.
Logan?
Shh. Go back to sleep.
It's only 6:00.
- In the morning?
- Yes, in the morning.
Go back to sleep.
I'm sorry I woke you.
Hey, where you going?
Come back here.
I can't, I promised Nick, Bobby,
and Phillip I'd meet up with them
- for breakfast before the pitch.
- I thought the pitch was at breakfast.
It is, but we can't walk in there
unprepared. We got to go over our notes,
talk strategy.
It's a pre-Breakfast breakfast.
- Work dork.
- Did you just call me a work dork?
Admit it.
Just admit that you're a work dork.
I'll admit that I'm a work dork if you
admit that you love that I'm a work dork.
Done.
Now I really have to go.
Hey, I have ways of making you stay,
you know.
I know, I know,
but take pity on me, please.
After work,
I promise I'm all yours. Dinner?
Is it a pre-dinner
dinner or a real dinner?
As many dinners as you want.
Aw, man, I can't believe we've
wasted 4 1/2 hours on sleep.
What are we down to now,
like 15 hours?
Rory, I'm actually gonna need
both arms for this pitch.
Okay, I'll let go.
Just one more kiss.
- I don't believe you.
- Try me.
- Hey! No fair!
- I'll call you later.
- Work dork!
- Work dork lover.
You need a tissue?
Oh, god, what is that?
I don't know,
but it's horrible.
Oh, it is. It's foul.
It's like rotten cabbage.
Or with dense but subtle
undertones of olives.
There's nothing subtle about it.
It's like a sledgehammer to the nose.
Oh, my god! What is that?
It's not coming
from the kitchen?
Bite your tongue.
Wait, are we having
heart attacks right now?
Isn't smelling something strange
the first sign of a heart attack?
I don't think we're having a
communal massive heart attack.
- Carcasses.
- What?
Those strange,
angry-looking guests --
I'm sure they are traveling
with decaying animal flesh.
Yeah, 'cause that's the
most logical explanation.
Gonna open a window,
see if we can air it out a little bit.
- No, no, no!
- Close it! Close it! Close it!
So glad we tried that.
All right, I'm going out there
to see what's causing this.
- Out there?!
- Are you crazy?!
Maybe, but the sooner we can
find out what's causing this,
the sooner we can run like
hell to less stinky ground.
- I'm coming with you, then!
- Me too!
Let's hang for a minute.
If she makes it to the end of the block,
we'll join her.
- Michel!
- What?
Fine.
Kirk, where's everybody going?
Taylor called an
emergency town meeting.
Not sure why.
The smell, Kirk.
The horrible, horrible smell.
Really?
I just don't think
it's that bad.
Well, come on, let's go.
No. You know what?
On second thought,
I'd rather smell this smell
for the rest of my life
than see Luke at
a town meeting.
- Oh, honey.
- It's okay.
I'll go back to the Inn.
I'll be fine.
Just call me when you
want me to pick you up.
Finally!
It's about time, Taylor!
We're dying here.
I assure you, no one is dying.
The substance causing this odor
is not toxic in any way,
shape, or form.
- It's pickles.
- That's no pickle!
Pickle? Like one giant pickle?
Order!
As those of you who take an interest
in civic events may recall,
three days ago a train
derailed just east of town --
luckily, no one was
injured. However,
3 1/2 tons of pickles and pickle
brine were scattered along the tracks.
And due to some inevitable
delays in cleanup,
those pickles have been baking
in the sun for three days.
And you knew about this?
It's a cover-up.
We got picklegate!
I did know about it, but it wasn't
a problem until this morning
when the wind shifted.
And instead of wafting easterly
toward our neighbors
in Woodbridge,
the smell seems to have
settled on Stars Hollow.
Now, there's no telling
how long it will last.
What?! People are
suffering here.
How long does it take to pick
up a few measly pickles?
Picking up the pickles is not
my main concern at the moment.
Now, this is a matter
of pride, people.
A huge principle is at stake.
There's absolutely no reason
why we here in Stars Hollow
should take responsibility
for this mess.
The pickles themselves
hail from Ohio.
The railroad company is incorporated
in the state of Delaware.
And since all the pickles are on
the Woodbridge side of the tracks --
Just pick up the damn
pickles, Taylor!
Easier said than done.
Even if we wanted to
do the wrong thing
and assume fiscal
responsibility for this fiasco,
the cost is astronomical.
- $2,500 for --
- Sold!
- Done!
- Pay, you big cheapskate!
- Yeah!
- Yeah!
All those in favor
of Stars Hollow
taking a swift kick to the tush
and shouldering the entire cost --
- Aye!
- Aye!
Very well.
Motion carried.
Pickle smell gone
in 48 hours...
along with everything
good about Stars Hollow.
Breathe that in.
Isn't that fantastic?
Forgot what fresh,
pickleless air smells like.
Oh, so, you coming over to my
neck of the woods for lunch
is really no reflection on how
desperately you needed to see me?
Hmm...10% desperate need to see you,
90% pickles.
You know, I'm actually looking
forward to friday night dinner.
Because, as you well know,
the Gilmore house,
like very expensive vodka,
is completely odorless.
And you still want
me to come with?
Yes, you, me, Rory,
numbers, babe.
G.G., no. Skirt down! G.G.!
You may want to look into
the whole skort concept.
Hey, so,
I spoke with Sherry this morning.
Oh, yeah.
What's the deal with her?
Well, first she and G.G.
spoke for almost half an hour.
That's as long as you can
do anything when you're 4.
And then she and I talked.
I thanked her for the letter.
She said everything
in it was true.
She's totally serious
about this new life thing.
No more workaholic ways.
She's gardening and meditating,
all kinds of stuff.
She's very self-actualized --
her words, not mine.
Good for her.
And the big news is,
she wants me to send G.G. to Paris
to stay with her for
a couple of months.
- Wow.
- Yeah, wow.
I mean,
I know it seems kind of sudden,
but Sherry's taken this huge
leave of absence from work,
and G.G. got so excited.
I mean, why not, right?
She's not in school,
yet, just preschool,
and she needs to get to
know her mother sometime.
No, hey!
G.G., that's too high! Careful!
So, what --
would you go to Paris with her?
No, I was thinking the
nanny could take her.
She's dying to go.
I mean, it's Paris, right?
She's 25 years old.
It's a chance of a lifetime.
Yeah, sure.
No, hey!
G.G., no, don't pick that up!
I'll be right back.
You can't put Paris in charge.
She can and she should.
Guys, I just need someone to
get the paper out tonight.
Doesn't matter who.
I want the chain of command to be clear.
When the editor in chief isn't here,
the managing editor's in charge.
That's standard operating procedure
at every newspaper in the country.
Yes, but I've done
this 1,000 times,
and you've never done it, Bill.
Experience.
Experience that
led to a mutiny.
It's not like anyone ever gave Captain
Bligh another ship after the Bounty.
Of course they did,
multiple ships,
and by the time he died,
they promoted the guy to rear admiral.
Do you think the british royal navy
ruled the world in the 19th century
by letting that much natural
talent and leadership capability
go to waste just because
a few whiny complainers
wanted more breadfruit
and less scurvy?
Tell me you're not
seriously considering this.
The bunker.
Do you not remember the bunker?
I hardly see how my choice
of workplace is relevant.
There was an insurrection,
a revolt, an uprising.
She was deposed.
See how wordy he is?
He overwrites.
Plus, he's always been
weak with gerunds.
Sorry.
Look, could you guys take
this somewhere else?
Fine. Let's go to my desk.
Your desk? Right, like I'm actually
going to cede home-court advantage.
Oh, for god's sake.
Hey!
We did it, Ace!
- We bought the company!
- What?
It's crazy.
We were just supposed to have breakfast.
Next thing I know, we're sitting there
with lawyers going over contracts.
- Logan, that's amazing.
- I know!
Was it all because of my
breakfast-combo idea?
I'm pretty sure that's
what sealed it.
So, will you come
celebrate with me tonight?
- I already cleared my schedule.
- Great! I'll send a car.
Tonight, you'll be dining
with a captain of industry.
Wow, do you get to
wear a uniform?
I'll have to check the fine print.
Go home, get dressed.
I'll see you soon.
Aye-aye, captain.
Cancel? Well,
I would say that depends.
What exactly is your
feeling about pickles?
Uh-huh, yes, pickles --
gherkins, dills.
For instance, if all the air
around you smelled like pickles
and there was no place to run,
no place to hide,
would you find that bothersome?
Michel, help. Let me in.
No, that is not a metaphor.
Yes, perhaps it would be better
if you checked in tomorrow night.
Uh-huh. Goodbye.
Michel, it's getting in my pores!
My pores are pickling!
Sorry, I didn't mean to
get you out of surgery.
Oh, mock the mask if you wish.
Oh, I will.
One is never too careful with
toxic pollutants in the air.
- Michel, it's just pickles.
- Oh, so they say!
Has anyone ever
seen these pickles?
Who's to say this is not
some sort of chemical weapon
the government is testing
on us behind our backs?
That's a cheery thought.
I have much scarier scenarios
if you want to hear them.
Yeah, maybe later.
Hey.
Wow, the smell is amazingly
not terrible in here.
What'd you do?
Well, after the town meeting,
I decided to make
some baked apples with
cinnamon and nutmeg.
- This is apples and cinnamon?
- Mnh-mnh. The apples failed me.
I mean,
a terrifically famous smell, right?
A powerful tool in the hands
of a real-estate agent.
Against the pickles
-- powerless.
What is it? It makes me happy.
The apples failed. I tried
cheeses and breads and chocolates.
But nothing could mask
the power of the pickles.
You know,
I think my sense of smell is ruined.
The insides of my
nose are burned out.
Then, I decided if you can't beat them,
join them.
Embrace the pickle!
Milton Berle it smells like?
Milton Berle? Are you saying my
kitchen smells like Milton Berle?
Milton Berle,
"Broadway Danny Rose", "Carnegie Deli".
- Pastrami.
- Pastrami!
You want a sandwich?
I'll make you a sandwich.
- No, thanks.
- You sure?
I've got pumpernickel. I've got rye.
I've got this really nice mustard.
I've even got Dr.
Brown's cel-ray soda in the fridge.
Nah, I filled up on lunchables
in the park with Chris and G.G.
- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.
Lunchables, huh?
Don't judge what you
do not understand.
So, friday afternoon in the
park with Christopher, huh?
Yeah. You know,
I think I will have one.
Soda that tastes like vegetables --
who would have thunk it?
Hey, uh,
this kind of weird thing happened today.
Oh yeah?
So, apparently Sherry is trying to
get back in touch with Christopher.
Sherry "ex-wife" Sherry?
Sherry "abandoned her baby to go live
the life of a bon vivant" Sherry?
The very one.
She wrote him a letter -- "Mea culpa."
Mea culpa,
she's learned the error of her ways.
She wants to get back
in touch with G.G.
Translation --
she wants to get back with Christopher.
No, I don't think so.
She's dating someone.
She's doing downward dog with
some french yoga instructor.
Sherry "mani/pedi twice a
week" Sherry is doing yoga?
Allegedly. Who knows?
But then Chris went on about sending
G.G. to Paris with this 20-year-old nanny
so that G.G.
can reconnect with her mom.
- And you told him that's insane.
- No.
- What? Why not?
- I don't know.
Not saying what I think is not what
I'm known for, if you know what I mean.
No, no, I don't,
it's not what you're known for.
It's what you're not known for.
I mean, it's not what you're not --
- You're usually quite frank.
- I know.
It sounds like you're not quite
comfortable talking to Christopher.
- That's the thing. I am.
- Well, then why didn't you?
Because in my head,
I wasn't talking to Christopher.
In the park, I was talking to Christopher,
but in my head, I was talking to Luke.
Oh, honey, of course you were.
No, I don't mean it like I missed him.
I mean it like
Luke is the one who didn't want me
getting involved in his kid's life,
not Chris.
Chris is open to what I think.
Chris is open to me.
Christopher is not Luke.
Nope, Christopher is not Luke.
Why aren't all nutritious
things in soda form?
That's a good question.
I swear I would eat my vegetables
if only they were fizzy.
Yay, Rory! Hello?
Hey, what's going on?
Uh, well Stars Hollow
smells like pickles.
- Pickles?
- Pickles.
- Pickles pickles?
- Pickles.
Why?
Because a pickle train crashed.
Is this a joke? Is this a long,
boring joke that I'm not going to get?
No, it's no joke.
The town smells like pickles
because a pickle
train was derailed.
A train full of pickles?
Who knew there was such a thing?
Well, pickle-train conductors, for one.
Sounds so fun.
I would've been the greatest
pickle-train conductor.
Can you see me --
"All aboard, you pickles!"
Hmm. Clearly you
missed your calling.
Well, luckily there's you.
You're young, you're clever,
your great pickle-train
conducting hope.
I can't believe
I'm missing this.
Well, you can celebrate next
year on the anniversary.
What's going on with you?
Well, I can't make it to
friday night dinner tonight,
but I have a very good excuse.
Pickle-train
conducting seminar?
- Logan's in town.
- No way!
Yeah, he showed up last night.
It was a total surprise.
I can't believe you let me go on
about pickle-train conducting
- when you had actual news.
- You had news.
Stars Hollow smells
like pickles.
I can completely see that
scrolling along the CNN crawl.
Logan in town is
totally pre-pickle news.
How long is he here for?
6 1/2 more hours.
He flew in yesterday, bought a company,
- and he's flying back out tonight.
- Oh, my god.
What are you guys gonna do with
your precious remaining hours?
- Or don't I want to know?
- Mom!
Well, because you might be
farming rutabagas or something,
and I wouldn't want to
know 'cause -- boring.
Well, tonight I'm meeting him
in Manhattan to celebrate.
Fancy restaurant?
Rutabaga farm, actually.
Oh, but I'm sorry about dinner.
I did not mean to abandon
you in your time of need.
No worries. I'm not gonna be totally
defenseless. I'm bringing your dad.
Really? Wow!
Yeah, thought it was time
he meet the parents.
Okay, that is pre-pickle news,
my friend.
Oh, this conversation's been a disaster,
hasn't it?
- Yes, it has.
- All right.
Bring-bring. Hi, Rory.
How are you?
Hi, mom. Logan's in town.
Oh, my goodness.
That's wonderful.
We're farming rutabagas.
Oh, you're a filthy child.
I will disown you.
Bringing your father to dinner.
Pickles, pickles, pickles,
smell, pickle-train conducting.
- Alas, alack.
- Good talk.
- The best.
- Bye.
Good evening. Can I take that?
Thank you.
Um, I'm just meeting someone.
- Ahoy, my captain of industry!
- Ace!
Hey, where is your uniform?
I was expecting the whole works --
a spiffy hat, shiny shoes,
epaulets with scrambled eggs on them.
Scrambled eggs on my clothes?
What you must think of me.
- You look gorgeous.
- Thanks.
Though I was hoping you'd wear
a nice little sailor's middy.
- You look so cute in a middy.
- Oh, I'd love to wear a middy.
And a little sailor hat,
like the Stay-Puft marshmallow man.
Because who doesn't want to date
a giant humanoid marshmallow?
I'm so proud of you.
- Come on. Our table's over here.
- Okay.
Everybody, I'd like you to
meet my girlfriend, Rory.
Such a pleasure, Rory.
I'm Nick.
- Hi.
- And this is Phillip.
- Nice to meet you.
- You too.
And I'm Bobby.
So, so glad you could join us.
Bobby, um... yeah, me too.
I'm so glad I could make it.
How are you?
I'm brilliant, actually.
We had quite a day.
Shall we order another
bottle of champers, boys?
- Absolutely.
- Good. I'm parched.
- Do you drink?
- What? Um, yeah, sure.
Here. Sit, sit.
Oh, food. Let's please get food.
I haven't eaten since the waffles.
Dear god. Did you eat those?
It would have been rude not to.
You eat anything.
You astound me.
You're like a human
garbage disposal.
It's appalling, Phillip.
Really it is.
You know what you should do?
You should go on one
of those American
reality TV series
and showcase your talents.
There are these huge waffles
at the breakfast this morning.
And Phillip ate them.
I'm catching on.
Logan, I know
we're celebrating,
but I'm concerned about our
budget for this project.
From a strictly economic perpective,
do we really want to blow everything
on feeding Phillip tonight?
Somebody's got to
crunch the numbers.
It's true.
The numbers do not crunch themselves.
Ergo, the number
cruncher must be fed.
So, Rory,
I've heard so much about you!
Oh, yeah?
Logan has talked my
ear off about you.
Oh, yeah, yeah. Me too.
He's talked my ear off
about you and all of you.
I mean, I'm practically Van
Gogh from my earlessness.
Did we order champagne, yet?
Logan, your girlfriend must be parched.
Oh, excuse me, miss. I think we'd
like another bottle, please.
Oh, and bring
another bread plate.
You're amazing.
- Ridiculous.
- I'm hungry.
Oh, no.
You know my rule about hair bands.
My car, my tunes.
Really? You're
gonna say, "tunes"?
You got a lot of rules, lady.
Not a lot. It's just no saying
"killer," no saying "wack,"
no saying "rockin'" or "pimping"
or "slamming," capisce?
Fo' shizzle.
There's got to be an eject
button here somewhere.
How's this for an idea --
weekend away, the two of us?
That's great for an idea.
Ooh! Ooh!
I know the perfect place.
Don't say "Dollywood."
Please, don't, don't say "Dollywood."
- The ice hotel.
- The what?
The ice hotel. It's amazing.
I read about it in
the travel section.
It's a hotel totally made of ice.
The roof is ice. The floors are ice.
The tables are ice. The chairs are ice.
Chandeliers are ice.
I think I'm beginning
to get the picture.
Wouldn't it be amazing if
you went down the hall
and the ice machine was empty?
It is amazing.
Amazingly cold.
No. You get to wear
parkas and fur hats.
"Get to"?
And you sleep under reindeer skins.
You eat reindeer meat.
Again, "get to"?
You drink vodka.
That's a good "get to."
Hey, how's this for an idea?
We can drink vodka in Bermuda.
The ice hotel in Bermuda
would totally melt.
We'll do two weekends away.
First the ice hotel.
Then once we've been
treated for frostbite
and had our stomachs
pumped of reindeer meat,
we'll go defrost on
a beach somewhere.
I mean, we've got the time. G.G.'s gonna
be in Paris for a couple of months.
What? You're not down with
the whole beach thing?
No, it's...
more the whole Paris thing.
Yes?
I-I'm just... I'm not sure it's such
a good idea that G.G. goes to Paris.
Meaning?
Well, she's only 4 years old.
She barely even knows Sherry.
Yeah, but Sherry's her mother.
A mother she hasn't
seen in two years.
Look, Sherry's doing really well.
You read her letter.
And I think I've been doing
a really good job with G.G.
Oh, honey. Amazing.
But it's hard, you know?
It's -- It's really hard, and G.G.
needs her mom.
And if I can help bring
them both back together,
I want to do that.
I have to do that.
I know, I get that. I just --
I think maybe you should put
a little more thought into it,
you know, before you send
a toddler on an airplane
with an 18-year-old nanny who's
totally psyched to go to France.
- The nanny's 25.
- Oh, oh, okay, then.
Like the nanny's really
your problem here.
Well, I mean,
it's not an un-problem, you know?
I think you should just
consider it more carefully
or maybe go yourself.
- Look, I read her letter --
- Oh, my god! Enough!
Enough with the letter already.
I get it.
What do you get?
This is about you being
threatened by Sherry.
No, no. Give me a break.
- You never liked her.
- No, I didn't.
But I don't like the new mailman either.
Doesn't mean I'm threatened by him.
That's not what this is about.
This is about me thinking I could speak
openly and honestly
about my concerns
without getting freaked out on.
Nice. Real nice.
Honey, what is
going on with you?
What's going on with you, Lor?
Look, can we drop this, please,
and try and have a nice evening?
It's dropped.
Well, hello, hello!
Richard, they're here.
Don't you two look marvelous?
Well, don't just stand there.
Come in, come in.
It was the way he kept saying
"intellectual property."
I could feel the whole deal just
slipping through our fingers.
He was like, "intellectual property.
Intellectual property."
"Which is like my property,
my property."
"I invented it, I invented it."
"We won't sell, we won't sell."
"And it's slipping. Slipping."
I'm looking at Nick trying to convey
through subtle dilations of my pupils
that we cannot offer
any more money.
And I'm looking at Phillip
who's looking at me like,
like he's hopped up on some
sort of methamphetamine.
Slipping, slipping, and it looks
like we lost him, and then Bobby.
- Bobby makes a bold choice.
- What does she do?
- She just stands up.
- She does.
- She just stands up!
- Wow.
She stands up like she can't
take it anymore, and she says,
"meeting's over, boys."
- That must have been crazy.
- It was amazing.
I'm sitting here, and she's here,
and she stands up.
And I look over,
and all I see is legs, legs, legs
and this look on her
face like "ohh, no."
It was brilliant.
Do it, Bobby. Stand up.
- Knock it off.
- Come on, Bobby. You got to see this.
- But we insist.
- Please?
Fine. But just to
shut you lot up.
I suppose it was
something like, um...
...meeting's over, boys.
Whoo! Well done!
- Amazing, huh?
- We need another bottle!
And dessert. Don't we need
a little sweet or something?
So, Rory, we've barely had the
opportunity to speak all night.
- I know.
- How's school? What's your major?
- English.
- Oh, god, how fantastic.
I swear when I was at Oxford,
I did nothing but read literature.
It was such a luxury.
- That's one way to look at it.
- Oh, I long for those days.
Just reading books, thinking.
- I do like thinking.
- Enjoy it while it lasts.
Before you know it, you'll be out in
the real world with the rest of us.
Seems like you manage
to have some fun.
Well, Logan is a big part of that.
He is such a laugh.
He's actually a lot more
serious than you might think.
It probably takes a long time to
get to know that side of him,
the serious side.
Oh, you two are so adorable.
- Thanks.
- Hey, not so fast!
We're still working on
getting the next round.
Another sloe gin fizz, please.
Oh, and don't get
too excited, fellas.
I'm just going to the loo.
- Yes! That's it!
- Amazing! Magnificent!
- We fold, we fold.
- Thank you, thank you very much.
And feel free to say all sorts of
cheeky things about me while I'm gone.
Isn't she a riot?
Hilarious.
Well, naturally I thought they
were referring to the archduke.
So I jumped in,
as who wouldn't?
With some thoughts about the
various conspiracy theories
surrounding his infamous
assassination in Sarajevo.
Imagine my surprise when I
learned that Franz Ferdinand
was the name of a very
popular rock-'n'-roll band.
That's what he gets for trying to
fraternize after class with his students.
One of them even offered
to burn a CD for me.
So, tell me.
How are the salads?
Good, mom.
- I like the pear.
- Do you?
- I'm so glad.
- Tastes very fresh.
Well, pears this time of
year can dress up any salad.
Oh, Richard,
did you tell them about midterms?
Lorelai, did your father
mention midterms?
No, he didn't.
How were midterms, dad?
As you know, midterms separate
the wheat from the chaff.
although I don't have to grade
any of their papers or tests.
They have these marvelous
teaching assistants
that handle all that
sort of things for you.
Thank you, Hildegard.
Christopher, I hope
you like lamb.
When I found out that you were coming,
I decided we had to serve
something special.
And to me, special means lamb.
Oh, it just makes me so happy to see
the two of you sitting here together.
It's such fun.
It's very nice to be here.
- Tennis!
- Emily?
That's one of the things we
can do together as a foursome,
now that Lorelai and
Christopher are an item.
That's right.
We do need new people for doubles.
We've been playing with
that awful Bunny Ferguson
And her husband,
whatever his name is.
They are dreadful.
The way Bunny Ferguson
grunts -- oh!
I mean, it's one thing
if you're Maria Sharapova
and you're 120 pounds and
a 7-foot blond teenager.
- But if you're 5'3"...
- And 53...
And wearing plaid --
Did you see that skirt she wore
the last time we played them?
I can only think
that it was designed
to cause some sort of
optic misfunction.
Then you'll play with us?
Lorelai?
Hmm? Yes, fine, great.
It's a date.
How does the saturday after
next work for everyone?
Sure.
Ah, here's the lamb.
You do like lamb, Christopher?
I'm afraid I never let you answer.
I do. The funny thing is,
I never did when I was a kid,
but I do now. I guess I've changed.
People do that sometimes.
That's so true.
What a clever observation.
It's like you and radishes.
Exactly.
Your father used to hate radishes.
Thought they were disgusting.
Well, they are roots.
It's a little unappealing.
And then one summer in Aspen,
he fell off a horse,
and suddenly he loved radishes.
That whole summer, he was radish-crazy.
It's true.
I do like radishes to this day.
- That's funny.
- Isn't it?
Yes. I don't like radishes.
I guess it's because I
find them threatening.
What a peculiar thing to say.
Radishes are a peculiar topic.
All right.
Since this is a special
occasion of sorts,
I should like to
propose a toast.
To many more nights like this,
and to Lorelai and Christopher.
Who knew 20-some-odd years ago
that we would be making dates
- to play doubles tennis?
- And bridge.
You absolutely have to
join us for bridge.
You two have come a long way since
your days of rebellious youth,
shall we say?
Derelicts. The
word is derelicts.
Emily!
To Lorelai and Christopher.
They were derelicts. It's true.
Remember when they stole that bottle of
wine you'd been saving for 15 years?
Well, 10 years.
It was a '75 Margot.
And they had no idea
how to use a corkscrew,
so they just cracked
the top off with a brick
and slurped what they
could off the patio.
And look at them now.
All grown up and drinking
very nicely out of glasses.
I need to see you
in the bathroom.
Fine.
Excuse me.
Would you mind telling
me what the hell --
- You're not Sherry.
- Excuse me?
You've changed, Chris.
What are you talking about?
Maybe we were
derelicts back then.
But we were 16.
We were just kids.
- You were just a kid.
- So?
So, you leaving Rory when you
were 16 is not at all the same
as Sherry, a grown woman,
packing up and living G.G.
So I get why you
were upset with me.
Because when I'm criticizing Sherry,
you feel like I'm criticizing you.
But I wasn't. I'm not.
You've changed. You're not 16.
You're not a kid.
You're not Sherry. I get it.
Wow, you get it.
That's great, Lor.
Thanks for telling
me how I feel.
- Tired?
- I'm good.
I could always have the car
come pick us up at the corner.
I'm fine.
Hey, I know. I could carry you.
- Carry me?
- Yeah.
Piggyback, fireman's carry,
in both arms -- your choice.
No.
I'm really fine.
Wow, okay.
So, I guess something's really wrong.
Just because I don't want
to be fireman carried
doesn't mean that
something is wrong.
- But something is wrong.
- No, it's just --
Just?
This isn't exactly what
I expected tonight.
I was just a little confused,
I guess.
You called. You were so excited.
You said, "celebrate."
I thought it was
gonna be just us.
Last night was just us.
I know,
and it was also perfect and romantic.
And the more I talk about it, the more
I feel stupid for even bringing this up.
Look, I'm sorry I wasn't
clear on the phone.
I'm sorry that you didn't
have a good time tonight.
Well, no, it's not that. I mean,
I get it. The guys are great. Okay.
But, technically Bobby, well,
she's not exactly a guy.
Yeah, you got me there.
And until about three hours ago,
I thought that she was a guy.
You know why?
Because you never use personal
pronouns -- "She," "her."
I mean, would that have been
so unbelievably difficult
to fit into a conversation?
I don't know about you, but most
of the Bobbys I know are guys --
Bobby Kennedy, Bobby Brady,
Bobby Knight, Bobby Brown.
You're smiling at me.
Why are smiling at me?
Because you are very cute
when you're jealous.
- I'm not jealous.
- Rory.
Oh, and it's not just that.
I mean, it was everything.
It was not feeling
like I was included.
I mean, no one all night
asked me anything about me.
Bobby asked you about you.
Yeah, and how
condescending was she?
"It's such a luxury
to read literature."
And did you hear
what she called us?
"Adorable." She called
us an adorable couple.
- Wait, she said that out loud?
- Yes, adorable.
Wow, you want me to go back
there and kick her ass?
"Adorable" is what you say
about a "Full House" rerun.
It's not what you say
about something that lasts.
The great wall of China, the pyramids --
no one ever called them "adorable."
And excuse me, but how many times does
a girl need to stand up at dinner?
Yes, you have legs. We get it.
"Oh, no, I'm not leaving.
I'm just going to the loo."
Here's a tip. You're in america now.
Speak english.
Okay, so just to clarify,
in the future, you would prefer
I work only with girls
who have no legs.
You're not taking me seriously.
Because you're
not being serious.
Bobby is my colleague.
She's great at what she does.
She's smart. She's talented.
Nick has great legs, too.
Maybe before you rush to judgment,
you should check his out.
Great. So now I'm not just an idiot,
I'm an anti-feminist idiot,
an anti-feminist who's
standing here in the street
arguing about things I don't
really want to be arguing about.
- You don't?
- No.
Do you think I like
feeling this way?
I mean, I haven't seen
you for months and months,
and now you're in town for what?
26 hours?
And in that time, I can't just get
happy and act like a fruit fly?
Mayfly.
I can't just live in the moment and
enjoy the 26 great hours ahead of me?
I have to be sulky and miserable
while all the other fruit flies
share private jokes
with my boyfriend?
You think I like this
about myself? Wrong.
I hate myself for
being this way.
I hate Bobby for her
professionally tweezed eyebrows
and her oh-so-incredible ability
to stand up at a moment's notice.
And most of all,
I hate the fact that in a few seconds
you'll be in that
car leaving me again.
That is a hell of a long way to
go just to say, "I miss you."
Any thoughts in response?
I miss you, too, Ace.
Five words.
You only used five words.
Yeah, well, I'm not done yet.
Of course, this time of year,
so many people start playing
that awful winter tennis with the
chicken-wire cages and the heated courts.
Platform tennis can be
very enjoyable, Emily.
Yes, but it looks ridiculous,
like glorified ping-pong.
If I wanted to play ping-pong,
I would --
Well, if I wanted to play ping-pong,
I would kill myself.
Well, I hope you're still good
with a racket, Christopher.
Lorelai was always hopeless.
As a child, we took her to an
ophthalmologist to test her
depth perception.
He could find no
rational reason for it.
I know I'm not Sherry.
I'm sorry. Did he serve you Sherry?
Richard, there's been some mistake.
Christopher's drink was
supposed to be port.
Come to Paris with me.
- What?
- You were right.
I should take G.G.
myself, check everything out.
Check what out?
Paris. I think they want
to check out Paris.
Come on. You can't say "no." I mean,
you can, but don't.
Maybe there's even a Parisian
ice hotel we can stay in.
Yes. I mean, no,
there is no ice hotel.
But I'll stay in one
made of stone or bricks
or whatever Paris
hotels are made of.
We can blast the air-conditioning
and drink all the vodka you want.
- What on earth --
- That sounds great.
What happened when you
went to the powder room?
One minute,
we're sitting here having dessert.
And the next,
you're talking about Paris.
Well, Chris and I
are going to Paris.
In just a couple of
weeks, actually.
I'm so sorry we're gonna have to take
a rain check on that tennis date.
Yeah, till the 12th of never 'cause we
wouldn't play tennis or golf or bridge
or any game that could be
played in a foursome --
except hangman and
sometimes pictionary.
What has gotten into you?
You were being so pleasant all evening.
Mmm, what is this?
This looks good.
"What is it"? I told you 20 minutes ago.
It was rhubarb pie.
Hmm. Is it still rhubarb pie?
I swear I was having
the most wonderful time.
Is rhubarb a root, dad?
No.
- Hi, everyone.
- Honey!
- Hey.
- Am I late?
Of course not, Rory.
You're just in time
for rooty rhubarb pie,
and for the viewing
of mom's mug shot.
Rory, stop her.
I'm sure you look
very nice, grandma.
You are very photogenic, Emily.
Ooh! What am I saying?
I have pictures on my phone.
Gather 'round the
phone, everybody.
Richard, what are you doing?
Oh, nothing. Nothing.
Oh! These new
phones are amazing.
Are those handcuffs?
Grandma, are you wearing handcuffs?
I certainly was not.
No, they gave her one of
those ankle things instead
with like a chain and
cannonball on the end.
Christopher!
Oh, and the stripy outfit.
Tell Rory how they made you wear
the stripy outfit, mom.
No.
No!
- No!
- No!
- Yeah, yeah, that one!
- Yeah! Stop there!
hypoallergenic pillow,
chenille blanket --
ooh, comfort shoes.
- Got them.
- Those are your comfort shoes?
- Not mine -- Paul Anka's.
- We're staying in tonight.
You can probably
get away with flats.
He loves, loves,
loves chewing on these.
They remind him of
a squirrel carcass.
- Yummy.
- Don't judge.
You eat jerky like it's
going out of style.
So, all this stuff
is for Paul Anka?
No, not all.
The toothbrush is mine.
- Lorelai.
- What?
It's his first night
staying at your house.
I want him to have all the stuff
that makes him comfortable.
Ooh -- tennis balls!
I actually have tennis balls.
- Penn or Wilson?
- You're joking.
Paul Anka's must be Penn.
They must be new,
they must be green --
not orange and green,
just green.
And FYI, you might want to watch
that sarcastic tone of yours
because dogs are very
attuned to tone.
It's kind of like chinese,
in that respect, dog language.
It's very tone based.
And you are stressing him
out right now with your tone.
The dog is stressed?
Look at him.
And when he gets like this,
you need to talk to him in
sweet and dulcet tones.
Hi, Paul Anka.
Ooh, hi, boy! Hi!
- Get it?
- Got it.
Good. Sunglasses.
This is not normal.
I want you to know that.
The dog wears Ferragamos?
Oh, please.
Don't give him any ideas.
These are mine.
All right, let's go.
You take this, this, and this.
Come on.
What are you waiting for?
Oops. Here, Paul Anka.
Hey.
- Hey, you watching it?
- What?
- The meteor shower.
- What meteor shower?
It was on the news. The BBC said
there's some huge meteor shower tonight.
I thought we could
watch it together.
Uh, Logan, I have been in the
library for the past nine hours.
I don't know anything
about any meteor showers.
I could use a regular
shower, though.
Go up on the roof
and check it out.
- Now?
- Yes, now!
It's supposed to start
in like two minutes.
Ace! This is once-in-a-lifetime
celestial event. Get going.
Okay, okay.
I'm getting. I'm going.
Are you running?
I'm running! I'm running!
Who knew you were such
an astronomy buff?
Hurry!
What has gotten into you?
Nice night.
Oh, my god!
You're here!
What are you doing here?
Happy to see me?
Beyond happy! Ecstatic!
I can't believe you're here!
And look at me --
I'm covered in highlighter ink
and I smell like
Fritos and Ginger ale.
It's an aphrodisiac.
You're here and
you did all this?
You like?
I love,
but you didn't have to do this.
I mean, you're here. It's enough.
It's more than enough.
Could you shut up now
so I can kiss you?
- So there is no meteor shower?
- No meteor shower.
So you used the entire
cosmos to trick me?
I like to think big.
So, what is going on?
Why are you here?
I'm kissing my
girlfriend on the roof.
But why?
The Fritos and Ginger ale thing.
I told you, huge turn-on.
Explain yourself.
I'm just here for a
quick business trip.
- How quick?
- Too quick.
How quick is "too quick"?
I have 10:00 flight back
to London tomorrow night.
Oh, that is too quick.
That website my team has
been trying to buy --
the owners finally agreed to sit down,
talk to us tomorrow over breakfast.
Logan! That's great, right?
I mean, three weeks ago,
they weren't even taking your calls.
It is great.
However, not as exciting
as kissing my
girlfriend on the roof.
- Um, so, what's that amazing smell?
- Food from Ibiza.
The island?
The tapas place downtown.
Ooh, did you get the duck?
I did.
- And the short ribs?
- Yes. And...
Ooh! A 2003 red something.
I bet it's very oaky and
corky and full of fruity legs.
Know a lot about wine, do you?
Not so much,
but the label's pretty.
There's also gazpacho, that
cheese-pie thing you love, plus flan.
Ooh, flan! You got me flan?
Doesn't take much to make you happy,
does it?
Not when you're on
this continent.
Okay, why don't you open this wine?
I want to taste those fruity legs,
and I'll make you a
plate with extra flan.
Okay.
Ooh, I'm so glad you're here!
Stop! You're killing my Tivo.
I'm not killing it. I'm composing on it.
I'm composing a symphony.
- Finally, an instrument I can play.
- Give me that.
- No, no, no!
- Give me!
- Not until you explain your choices.
- What?
"The View"? "Girlfriends"?
"S?bado Gigante"?
Who controls this thing,
you or Pedro Almod?var?
It's the nanny.
Sure, it's a likely story.
Give me, give me, give me.
Did G.G. get to sleep okay?
She did. I tried to skip to
the end of "Cinderella,"
but she wouldn't let me.
It's my own fault.
My wicked stepsister
voice kills.
She's amazing, you know?
That reminds me.
Oh, no! You're not gonna show
me some of her art, are you?
I never know what to
say in those situations.
I mean, even when it was Rory's art,
you know?
Three blue finger smudges
and some construction paper.
It's not precocious.
It's just messy.
Here. This came a
couple of days ago.
It's from Sherry.
From Sherry?
Yeah, it's the first I've heard from
her since the divorce was final.
Go ahead. Read it.
Wow, how "dangerous
liaisons" of her.
She doesn't call.
She doesn't e-mail.
Then she sends you a
letter with a wax seal
that weighs roughly the
same as a porterhouse.
Well, she had a lot to say.
Gosh. It's a lot of sorry.
Yeah, 15 pages worth.
Believe me, I was not expecting this.
Humility is not a side of
Sherry I've ever seen before.
I don't know if it's the yoga
or the yoga instructor or --
Yoga instructor?
Yeah, she's dating her yoga instructor,
Jean-Claude or Jean-Pierre --
one of those names that
always sounds fake.
Anyway, it sounds like
she's really changed.
She feels awful about what happened,
run away like that,
and she wants to find a way to
be part of G.G.'s life again.
- Honey, that's great.
- Right?
Yeah.
So, you got this two days ago
and you're showing it to me now.
Well, I was gonna show it to
you a couple of days ago,
but then I figured you
were coming over, so...
- No, I'm not criticizing.
- You're not?
No, I'm complimenting --
badly, obviously.
But I'm complimenting.
You shared it with me.
I kind of thought that was how the
whole adult-relationship thing worked.
You know, openness, honesty.
Interesting.
And you're sure you don't want
to stash it away somewhere
and then I find it -- accidentally,
of course -- months from now,
and I get all weird and insecure about
why you didn't show it to me sooner?
I'm good with the sharing.
All right.
It's another way to go.
That glass slipper
will fit my foot.
That was my wicked
stepsister voice.
Yeah, I figured.
I'm so happy.
Me too.
You know you can't
do this in London?
The city lights are so bright,
you almost never see the stars.
Yeah, but it's London.
Wait, are you tired of London?
I'm tired of not
being around you.
Yeah, but you can't
be tired of London.
Samuel Johnson said,
"when you're tired of London,
you're tired of life."
Obviously, the man was never in
a long-distance relationship.
That's true.
Boswell did keep quite close.
- What are you doing?
- Nothing.
You're trying to sneak
a peek at my watch.
Well, I just can't believe it.
I can't believe you're here.
And I can't believe that you're leaving
in only 26 hours and 45 minutes.
Come on, think positive -- that's
an entire lifetime to a fruit fly.
Actually, you're
thinking of a mayfly.
Fruit flies can live for up to a month.
So what do you think?
Can you stay for a month?
I mean, what if your meeting
tomorrow goes really, really well?
I hope it does.
It will. It's a great idea.
It's basically myspace.
But by invitation only.
And it'll be like an online
version of the Algonquin Group,
like throwing a
party in your head
where everyone you've ever
wanted to talk to is there --
Ira Glass, Sofia Coppola,
Flaubert, Danger Mouse.
The deal's not done yet.
Far from it.
These guys aren't just gonna
hand over their website
because we buy them breakfast.
They might. Tell them that they
can order pancakes and eggs.
Don't make them choose.
Sausage, bacon, fruit, potatoes --
let them get the whole combo.
'Cause then they will have to sell
it to you. It'd be rude not to.
You are a business genius, Ace.
Well, I'm taking econ
with my grandpa.
Whatever happens,
we'll be ready.
We've been working our asses off on
this one -- Nick, Bobby, Phillip.
Oh, yes -- Phillip, Nick, Bobby.
The team. Starting lineup.
It is a classic win-win.
They give us a foothold in new media.
We give them a huge influx of capital,
which they need.
Believe me, when it comes to debt
versus equity, they're screwed.
They have no liquidity,
huge expenses, zero revenue.
I mean, the targeted
advertising potential alone --
What? What are you staring at?
You, "Mr. Debt Versus Equity."
- Are you mocking me?
- Yeah, but I like it.
Tell me more about this um,
targeted advertising potential.
What do you want to know?
There's pay-per-click,
pay-per-lead, banner ads,
pixel tagging.
Oh, stop.
I'm getting weak at the knees.
Logan?
Shh. Go back to sleep.
It's only 6:00.
- In the morning?
- Yes, in the morning.
Go back to sleep.
I'm sorry I woke you.
Hey, where you going?
Come back here.
I can't, I promised Nick, Bobby,
and Phillip I'd meet up with them
- for breakfast before the pitch.
- I thought the pitch was at breakfast.
It is, but we can't walk in there
unprepared. We got to go over our notes,
talk strategy.
It's a pre-Breakfast breakfast.
- Work dork.
- Did you just call me a work dork?
Admit it.
Just admit that you're a work dork.
I'll admit that I'm a work dork if you
admit that you love that I'm a work dork.
Done.
Now I really have to go.
Hey, I have ways of making you stay,
you know.
I know, I know,
but take pity on me, please.
After work,
I promise I'm all yours. Dinner?
Is it a pre-dinner
dinner or a real dinner?
As many dinners as you want.
Aw, man, I can't believe we've
wasted 4 1/2 hours on sleep.
What are we down to now,
like 15 hours?
Rory, I'm actually gonna need
both arms for this pitch.
Okay, I'll let go.
Just one more kiss.
- I don't believe you.
- Try me.
- Hey! No fair!
- I'll call you later.
- Work dork!
- Work dork lover.
You need a tissue?
Oh, god, what is that?
I don't know,
but it's horrible.
Oh, it is. It's foul.
It's like rotten cabbage.
Or with dense but subtle
undertones of olives.
There's nothing subtle about it.
It's like a sledgehammer to the nose.
Oh, my god! What is that?
It's not coming
from the kitchen?
Bite your tongue.
Wait, are we having
heart attacks right now?
Isn't smelling something strange
the first sign of a heart attack?
I don't think we're having a
communal massive heart attack.
- Carcasses.
- What?
Those strange,
angry-looking guests --
I'm sure they are traveling
with decaying animal flesh.
Yeah, 'cause that's the
most logical explanation.
Gonna open a window,
see if we can air it out a little bit.
- No, no, no!
- Close it! Close it! Close it!
So glad we tried that.
All right, I'm going out there
to see what's causing this.
- Out there?!
- Are you crazy?!
Maybe, but the sooner we can
find out what's causing this,
the sooner we can run like
hell to less stinky ground.
- I'm coming with you, then!
- Me too!
Let's hang for a minute.
If she makes it to the end of the block,
we'll join her.
- Michel!
- What?
Fine.
Kirk, where's everybody going?
Taylor called an
emergency town meeting.
Not sure why.
The smell, Kirk.
The horrible, horrible smell.
Really?
I just don't think
it's that bad.
Well, come on, let's go.
No. You know what?
On second thought,
I'd rather smell this smell
for the rest of my life
than see Luke at
a town meeting.
- Oh, honey.
- It's okay.
I'll go back to the Inn.
I'll be fine.
Just call me when you
want me to pick you up.
Finally!
It's about time, Taylor!
We're dying here.
I assure you, no one is dying.
The substance causing this odor
is not toxic in any way,
shape, or form.
- It's pickles.
- That's no pickle!
Pickle? Like one giant pickle?
Order!
As those of you who take an interest
in civic events may recall,
three days ago a train
derailed just east of town --
luckily, no one was
injured. However,
3 1/2 tons of pickles and pickle
brine were scattered along the tracks.
And due to some inevitable
delays in cleanup,
those pickles have been baking
in the sun for three days.
And you knew about this?
It's a cover-up.
We got picklegate!
I did know about it, but it wasn't
a problem until this morning
when the wind shifted.
And instead of wafting easterly
toward our neighbors
in Woodbridge,
the smell seems to have
settled on Stars Hollow.
Now, there's no telling
how long it will last.
What?! People are
suffering here.
How long does it take to pick
up a few measly pickles?
Picking up the pickles is not
my main concern at the moment.
Now, this is a matter
of pride, people.
A huge principle is at stake.
There's absolutely no reason
why we here in Stars Hollow
should take responsibility
for this mess.
The pickles themselves
hail from Ohio.
The railroad company is incorporated
in the state of Delaware.
And since all the pickles are on
the Woodbridge side of the tracks --
Just pick up the damn
pickles, Taylor!
Easier said than done.
Even if we wanted to
do the wrong thing
and assume fiscal
responsibility for this fiasco,
the cost is astronomical.
- $2,500 for --
- Sold!
- Done!
- Pay, you big cheapskate!
- Yeah!
- Yeah!
All those in favor
of Stars Hollow
taking a swift kick to the tush
and shouldering the entire cost --
- Aye!
- Aye!
Very well.
Motion carried.
Pickle smell gone
in 48 hours...
along with everything
good about Stars Hollow.
Breathe that in.
Isn't that fantastic?
Forgot what fresh,
pickleless air smells like.
Oh, so, you coming over to my
neck of the woods for lunch
is really no reflection on how
desperately you needed to see me?
Hmm...10% desperate need to see you,
90% pickles.
You know, I'm actually looking
forward to friday night dinner.
Because, as you well know,
the Gilmore house,
like very expensive vodka,
is completely odorless.
And you still want
me to come with?
Yes, you, me, Rory,
numbers, babe.
G.G., no. Skirt down! G.G.!
You may want to look into
the whole skort concept.
Hey, so,
I spoke with Sherry this morning.
Oh, yeah.
What's the deal with her?
Well, first she and G.G.
spoke for almost half an hour.
That's as long as you can
do anything when you're 4.
And then she and I talked.
I thanked her for the letter.
She said everything
in it was true.
She's totally serious
about this new life thing.
No more workaholic ways.
She's gardening and meditating,
all kinds of stuff.
She's very self-actualized --
her words, not mine.
Good for her.
And the big news is,
she wants me to send G.G. to Paris
to stay with her for
a couple of months.
- Wow.
- Yeah, wow.
I mean,
I know it seems kind of sudden,
but Sherry's taken this huge
leave of absence from work,
and G.G. got so excited.
I mean, why not, right?
She's not in school,
yet, just preschool,
and she needs to get to
know her mother sometime.
No, hey!
G.G., that's too high! Careful!
So, what --
would you go to Paris with her?
No, I was thinking the
nanny could take her.
She's dying to go.
I mean, it's Paris, right?
She's 25 years old.
It's a chance of a lifetime.
Yeah, sure.
No, hey!
G.G., no, don't pick that up!
I'll be right back.
You can't put Paris in charge.
She can and she should.
Guys, I just need someone to
get the paper out tonight.
Doesn't matter who.
I want the chain of command to be clear.
When the editor in chief isn't here,
the managing editor's in charge.
That's standard operating procedure
at every newspaper in the country.
Yes, but I've done
this 1,000 times,
and you've never done it, Bill.
Experience.
Experience that
led to a mutiny.
It's not like anyone ever gave Captain
Bligh another ship after the Bounty.
Of course they did,
multiple ships,
and by the time he died,
they promoted the guy to rear admiral.
Do you think the british royal navy
ruled the world in the 19th century
by letting that much natural
talent and leadership capability
go to waste just because
a few whiny complainers
wanted more breadfruit
and less scurvy?
Tell me you're not
seriously considering this.
The bunker.
Do you not remember the bunker?
I hardly see how my choice
of workplace is relevant.
There was an insurrection,
a revolt, an uprising.
She was deposed.
See how wordy he is?
He overwrites.
Plus, he's always been
weak with gerunds.
Sorry.
Look, could you guys take
this somewhere else?
Fine. Let's go to my desk.
Your desk? Right, like I'm actually
going to cede home-court advantage.
Oh, for god's sake.
Hey!
We did it, Ace!
- We bought the company!
- What?
It's crazy.
We were just supposed to have breakfast.
Next thing I know, we're sitting there
with lawyers going over contracts.
- Logan, that's amazing.
- I know!
Was it all because of my
breakfast-combo idea?
I'm pretty sure that's
what sealed it.
So, will you come
celebrate with me tonight?
- I already cleared my schedule.
- Great! I'll send a car.
Tonight, you'll be dining
with a captain of industry.
Wow, do you get to
wear a uniform?
I'll have to check the fine print.
Go home, get dressed.
I'll see you soon.
Aye-aye, captain.
Cancel? Well,
I would say that depends.
What exactly is your
feeling about pickles?
Uh-huh, yes, pickles --
gherkins, dills.
For instance, if all the air
around you smelled like pickles
and there was no place to run,
no place to hide,
would you find that bothersome?
Michel, help. Let me in.
No, that is not a metaphor.
Yes, perhaps it would be better
if you checked in tomorrow night.
Uh-huh. Goodbye.
Michel, it's getting in my pores!
My pores are pickling!
Sorry, I didn't mean to
get you out of surgery.
Oh, mock the mask if you wish.
Oh, I will.
One is never too careful with
toxic pollutants in the air.
- Michel, it's just pickles.
- Oh, so they say!
Has anyone ever
seen these pickles?
Who's to say this is not
some sort of chemical weapon
the government is testing
on us behind our backs?
That's a cheery thought.
I have much scarier scenarios
if you want to hear them.
Yeah, maybe later.
Hey.
Wow, the smell is amazingly
not terrible in here.
What'd you do?
Well, after the town meeting,
I decided to make
some baked apples with
cinnamon and nutmeg.
- This is apples and cinnamon?
- Mnh-mnh. The apples failed me.
I mean,
a terrifically famous smell, right?
A powerful tool in the hands
of a real-estate agent.
Against the pickles
-- powerless.
What is it? It makes me happy.
The apples failed. I tried
cheeses and breads and chocolates.
But nothing could mask
the power of the pickles.
You know,
I think my sense of smell is ruined.
The insides of my
nose are burned out.
Then, I decided if you can't beat them,
join them.
Embrace the pickle!
Milton Berle it smells like?
Milton Berle? Are you saying my
kitchen smells like Milton Berle?
Milton Berle,
"Broadway Danny Rose", "Carnegie Deli".
- Pastrami.
- Pastrami!
You want a sandwich?
I'll make you a sandwich.
- No, thanks.
- You sure?
I've got pumpernickel. I've got rye.
I've got this really nice mustard.
I've even got Dr.
Brown's cel-ray soda in the fridge.
Nah, I filled up on lunchables
in the park with Chris and G.G.
- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.
Lunchables, huh?
Don't judge what you
do not understand.
So, friday afternoon in the
park with Christopher, huh?
Yeah. You know,
I think I will have one.
Soda that tastes like vegetables --
who would have thunk it?
Hey, uh,
this kind of weird thing happened today.
Oh yeah?
So, apparently Sherry is trying to
get back in touch with Christopher.
Sherry "ex-wife" Sherry?
Sherry "abandoned her baby to go live
the life of a bon vivant" Sherry?
The very one.
She wrote him a letter -- "Mea culpa."
Mea culpa,
she's learned the error of her ways.
She wants to get back
in touch with G.G.
Translation --
she wants to get back with Christopher.
No, I don't think so.
She's dating someone.
She's doing downward dog with
some french yoga instructor.
Sherry "mani/pedi twice a
week" Sherry is doing yoga?
Allegedly. Who knows?
But then Chris went on about sending
G.G. to Paris with this 20-year-old nanny
so that G.G.
can reconnect with her mom.
- And you told him that's insane.
- No.
- What? Why not?
- I don't know.
Not saying what I think is not what
I'm known for, if you know what I mean.
No, no, I don't,
it's not what you're known for.
It's what you're not known for.
I mean, it's not what you're not --
- You're usually quite frank.
- I know.
It sounds like you're not quite
comfortable talking to Christopher.
- That's the thing. I am.
- Well, then why didn't you?
Because in my head,
I wasn't talking to Christopher.
In the park, I was talking to Christopher,
but in my head, I was talking to Luke.
Oh, honey, of course you were.
No, I don't mean it like I missed him.
I mean it like
Luke is the one who didn't want me
getting involved in his kid's life,
not Chris.
Chris is open to what I think.
Chris is open to me.
Christopher is not Luke.
Nope, Christopher is not Luke.
Why aren't all nutritious
things in soda form?
That's a good question.
I swear I would eat my vegetables
if only they were fizzy.
Yay, Rory! Hello?
Hey, what's going on?
Uh, well Stars Hollow
smells like pickles.
- Pickles?
- Pickles.
- Pickles pickles?
- Pickles.
Why?
Because a pickle train crashed.
Is this a joke? Is this a long,
boring joke that I'm not going to get?
No, it's no joke.
The town smells like pickles
because a pickle
train was derailed.
A train full of pickles?
Who knew there was such a thing?
Well, pickle-train conductors, for one.
Sounds so fun.
I would've been the greatest
pickle-train conductor.
Can you see me --
"All aboard, you pickles!"
Hmm. Clearly you
missed your calling.
Well, luckily there's you.
You're young, you're clever,
your great pickle-train
conducting hope.
I can't believe
I'm missing this.
Well, you can celebrate next
year on the anniversary.
What's going on with you?
Well, I can't make it to
friday night dinner tonight,
but I have a very good excuse.
Pickle-train
conducting seminar?
- Logan's in town.
- No way!
Yeah, he showed up last night.
It was a total surprise.
I can't believe you let me go on
about pickle-train conducting
- when you had actual news.
- You had news.
Stars Hollow smells
like pickles.
I can completely see that
scrolling along the CNN crawl.
Logan in town is
totally pre-pickle news.
How long is he here for?
6 1/2 more hours.
He flew in yesterday, bought a company,
- and he's flying back out tonight.
- Oh, my god.
What are you guys gonna do with
your precious remaining hours?
- Or don't I want to know?
- Mom!
Well, because you might be
farming rutabagas or something,
and I wouldn't want to
know 'cause -- boring.
Well, tonight I'm meeting him
in Manhattan to celebrate.
Fancy restaurant?
Rutabaga farm, actually.
Oh, but I'm sorry about dinner.
I did not mean to abandon
you in your time of need.
No worries. I'm not gonna be totally
defenseless. I'm bringing your dad.
Really? Wow!
Yeah, thought it was time
he meet the parents.
Okay, that is pre-pickle news,
my friend.
Oh, this conversation's been a disaster,
hasn't it?
- Yes, it has.
- All right.
Bring-bring. Hi, Rory.
How are you?
Hi, mom. Logan's in town.
Oh, my goodness.
That's wonderful.
We're farming rutabagas.
Oh, you're a filthy child.
I will disown you.
Bringing your father to dinner.
Pickles, pickles, pickles,
smell, pickle-train conducting.
- Alas, alack.
- Good talk.
- The best.
- Bye.
Good evening. Can I take that?
Thank you.
Um, I'm just meeting someone.
- Ahoy, my captain of industry!
- Ace!
Hey, where is your uniform?
I was expecting the whole works --
a spiffy hat, shiny shoes,
epaulets with scrambled eggs on them.
Scrambled eggs on my clothes?
What you must think of me.
- You look gorgeous.
- Thanks.
Though I was hoping you'd wear
a nice little sailor's middy.
- You look so cute in a middy.
- Oh, I'd love to wear a middy.
And a little sailor hat,
like the Stay-Puft marshmallow man.
Because who doesn't want to date
a giant humanoid marshmallow?
I'm so proud of you.
- Come on. Our table's over here.
- Okay.
Everybody, I'd like you to
meet my girlfriend, Rory.
Such a pleasure, Rory.
I'm Nick.
- Hi.
- And this is Phillip.
- Nice to meet you.
- You too.
And I'm Bobby.
So, so glad you could join us.
Bobby, um... yeah, me too.
I'm so glad I could make it.
How are you?
I'm brilliant, actually.
We had quite a day.
Shall we order another
bottle of champers, boys?
- Absolutely.
- Good. I'm parched.
- Do you drink?
- What? Um, yeah, sure.
Here. Sit, sit.
Oh, food. Let's please get food.
I haven't eaten since the waffles.
Dear god. Did you eat those?
It would have been rude not to.
You eat anything.
You astound me.
You're like a human
garbage disposal.
It's appalling, Phillip.
Really it is.
You know what you should do?
You should go on one
of those American
reality TV series
and showcase your talents.
There are these huge waffles
at the breakfast this morning.
And Phillip ate them.
I'm catching on.
Logan, I know
we're celebrating,
but I'm concerned about our
budget for this project.
From a strictly economic perpective,
do we really want to blow everything
on feeding Phillip tonight?
Somebody's got to
crunch the numbers.
It's true.
The numbers do not crunch themselves.
Ergo, the number
cruncher must be fed.
So, Rory,
I've heard so much about you!
Oh, yeah?
Logan has talked my
ear off about you.
Oh, yeah, yeah. Me too.
He's talked my ear off
about you and all of you.
I mean, I'm practically Van
Gogh from my earlessness.
Did we order champagne, yet?
Logan, your girlfriend must be parched.
Oh, excuse me, miss. I think we'd
like another bottle, please.
Oh, and bring
another bread plate.
You're amazing.
- Ridiculous.
- I'm hungry.
Oh, no.
You know my rule about hair bands.
My car, my tunes.
Really? You're
gonna say, "tunes"?
You got a lot of rules, lady.
Not a lot. It's just no saying
"killer," no saying "wack,"
no saying "rockin'" or "pimping"
or "slamming," capisce?
Fo' shizzle.
There's got to be an eject
button here somewhere.
How's this for an idea --
weekend away, the two of us?
That's great for an idea.
Ooh! Ooh!
I know the perfect place.
Don't say "Dollywood."
Please, don't, don't say "Dollywood."
- The ice hotel.
- The what?
The ice hotel. It's amazing.
I read about it in
the travel section.
It's a hotel totally made of ice.
The roof is ice. The floors are ice.
The tables are ice. The chairs are ice.
Chandeliers are ice.
I think I'm beginning
to get the picture.
Wouldn't it be amazing if
you went down the hall
and the ice machine was empty?
It is amazing.
Amazingly cold.
No. You get to wear
parkas and fur hats.
"Get to"?
And you sleep under reindeer skins.
You eat reindeer meat.
Again, "get to"?
You drink vodka.
That's a good "get to."
Hey, how's this for an idea?
We can drink vodka in Bermuda.
The ice hotel in Bermuda
would totally melt.
We'll do two weekends away.
First the ice hotel.
Then once we've been
treated for frostbite
and had our stomachs
pumped of reindeer meat,
we'll go defrost on
a beach somewhere.
I mean, we've got the time. G.G.'s gonna
be in Paris for a couple of months.
What? You're not down with
the whole beach thing?
No, it's...
more the whole Paris thing.
Yes?
I-I'm just... I'm not sure it's such
a good idea that G.G. goes to Paris.
Meaning?
Well, she's only 4 years old.
She barely even knows Sherry.
Yeah, but Sherry's her mother.
A mother she hasn't
seen in two years.
Look, Sherry's doing really well.
You read her letter.
And I think I've been doing
a really good job with G.G.
Oh, honey. Amazing.
But it's hard, you know?
It's -- It's really hard, and G.G.
needs her mom.
And if I can help bring
them both back together,
I want to do that.
I have to do that.
I know, I get that. I just --
I think maybe you should put
a little more thought into it,
you know, before you send
a toddler on an airplane
with an 18-year-old nanny who's
totally psyched to go to France.
- The nanny's 25.
- Oh, oh, okay, then.
Like the nanny's really
your problem here.
Well, I mean,
it's not an un-problem, you know?
I think you should just
consider it more carefully
or maybe go yourself.
- Look, I read her letter --
- Oh, my god! Enough!
Enough with the letter already.
I get it.
What do you get?
This is about you being
threatened by Sherry.
No, no. Give me a break.
- You never liked her.
- No, I didn't.
But I don't like the new mailman either.
Doesn't mean I'm threatened by him.
That's not what this is about.
This is about me thinking I could speak
openly and honestly
about my concerns
without getting freaked out on.
Nice. Real nice.
Honey, what is
going on with you?
What's going on with you, Lor?
Look, can we drop this, please,
and try and have a nice evening?
It's dropped.
Well, hello, hello!
Richard, they're here.
Don't you two look marvelous?
Well, don't just stand there.
Come in, come in.
It was the way he kept saying
"intellectual property."
I could feel the whole deal just
slipping through our fingers.
He was like, "intellectual property.
Intellectual property."
"Which is like my property,
my property."
"I invented it, I invented it."
"We won't sell, we won't sell."
"And it's slipping. Slipping."
I'm looking at Nick trying to convey
through subtle dilations of my pupils
that we cannot offer
any more money.
And I'm looking at Phillip
who's looking at me like,
like he's hopped up on some
sort of methamphetamine.
Slipping, slipping, and it looks
like we lost him, and then Bobby.
- Bobby makes a bold choice.
- What does she do?
- She just stands up.
- She does.
- She just stands up!
- Wow.
She stands up like she can't
take it anymore, and she says,
"meeting's over, boys."
- That must have been crazy.
- It was amazing.
I'm sitting here, and she's here,
and she stands up.
And I look over,
and all I see is legs, legs, legs
and this look on her
face like "ohh, no."
It was brilliant.
Do it, Bobby. Stand up.
- Knock it off.
- Come on, Bobby. You got to see this.
- But we insist.
- Please?
Fine. But just to
shut you lot up.
I suppose it was
something like, um...
...meeting's over, boys.
Whoo! Well done!
- Amazing, huh?
- We need another bottle!
And dessert. Don't we need
a little sweet or something?
So, Rory, we've barely had the
opportunity to speak all night.
- I know.
- How's school? What's your major?
- English.
- Oh, god, how fantastic.
I swear when I was at Oxford,
I did nothing but read literature.
It was such a luxury.
- That's one way to look at it.
- Oh, I long for those days.
Just reading books, thinking.
- I do like thinking.
- Enjoy it while it lasts.
Before you know it, you'll be out in
the real world with the rest of us.
Seems like you manage
to have some fun.
Well, Logan is a big part of that.
He is such a laugh.
He's actually a lot more
serious than you might think.
It probably takes a long time to
get to know that side of him,
the serious side.
Oh, you two are so adorable.
- Thanks.
- Hey, not so fast!
We're still working on
getting the next round.
Another sloe gin fizz, please.
Oh, and don't get
too excited, fellas.
I'm just going to the loo.
- Yes! That's it!
- Amazing! Magnificent!
- We fold, we fold.
- Thank you, thank you very much.
And feel free to say all sorts of
cheeky things about me while I'm gone.
Isn't she a riot?
Hilarious.
Well, naturally I thought they
were referring to the archduke.
So I jumped in,
as who wouldn't?
With some thoughts about the
various conspiracy theories
surrounding his infamous
assassination in Sarajevo.
Imagine my surprise when I
learned that Franz Ferdinand
was the name of a very
popular rock-'n'-roll band.
That's what he gets for trying to
fraternize after class with his students.
One of them even offered
to burn a CD for me.
So, tell me.
How are the salads?
Good, mom.
- I like the pear.
- Do you?
- I'm so glad.
- Tastes very fresh.
Well, pears this time of
year can dress up any salad.
Oh, Richard,
did you tell them about midterms?
Lorelai, did your father
mention midterms?
No, he didn't.
How were midterms, dad?
As you know, midterms separate
the wheat from the chaff.
although I don't have to grade
any of their papers or tests.
They have these marvelous
teaching assistants
that handle all that
sort of things for you.
Thank you, Hildegard.
Christopher, I hope
you like lamb.
When I found out that you were coming,
I decided we had to serve
something special.
And to me, special means lamb.
Oh, it just makes me so happy to see
the two of you sitting here together.
It's such fun.
It's very nice to be here.
- Tennis!
- Emily?
That's one of the things we
can do together as a foursome,
now that Lorelai and
Christopher are an item.
That's right.
We do need new people for doubles.
We've been playing with
that awful Bunny Ferguson
And her husband,
whatever his name is.
They are dreadful.
The way Bunny Ferguson
grunts -- oh!
I mean, it's one thing
if you're Maria Sharapova
and you're 120 pounds and
a 7-foot blond teenager.
- But if you're 5'3"...
- And 53...
And wearing plaid --
Did you see that skirt she wore
the last time we played them?
I can only think
that it was designed
to cause some sort of
optic misfunction.
Then you'll play with us?
Lorelai?
Hmm? Yes, fine, great.
It's a date.
How does the saturday after
next work for everyone?
Sure.
Ah, here's the lamb.
You do like lamb, Christopher?
I'm afraid I never let you answer.
I do. The funny thing is,
I never did when I was a kid,
but I do now. I guess I've changed.
People do that sometimes.
That's so true.
What a clever observation.
It's like you and radishes.
Exactly.
Your father used to hate radishes.
Thought they were disgusting.
Well, they are roots.
It's a little unappealing.
And then one summer in Aspen,
he fell off a horse,
and suddenly he loved radishes.
That whole summer, he was radish-crazy.
It's true.
I do like radishes to this day.
- That's funny.
- Isn't it?
Yes. I don't like radishes.
I guess it's because I
find them threatening.
What a peculiar thing to say.
Radishes are a peculiar topic.
All right.
Since this is a special
occasion of sorts,
I should like to
propose a toast.
To many more nights like this,
and to Lorelai and Christopher.
Who knew 20-some-odd years ago
that we would be making dates
- to play doubles tennis?
- And bridge.
You absolutely have to
join us for bridge.
You two have come a long way since
your days of rebellious youth,
shall we say?
Derelicts. The
word is derelicts.
Emily!
To Lorelai and Christopher.
They were derelicts. It's true.
Remember when they stole that bottle of
wine you'd been saving for 15 years?
Well, 10 years.
It was a '75 Margot.
And they had no idea
how to use a corkscrew,
so they just cracked
the top off with a brick
and slurped what they
could off the patio.
And look at them now.
All grown up and drinking
very nicely out of glasses.
I need to see you
in the bathroom.
Fine.
Excuse me.
Would you mind telling
me what the hell --
- You're not Sherry.
- Excuse me?
You've changed, Chris.
What are you talking about?
Maybe we were
derelicts back then.
But we were 16.
We were just kids.
- You were just a kid.
- So?
So, you leaving Rory when you
were 16 is not at all the same
as Sherry, a grown woman,
packing up and living G.G.
So I get why you
were upset with me.
Because when I'm criticizing Sherry,
you feel like I'm criticizing you.
But I wasn't. I'm not.
You've changed. You're not 16.
You're not a kid.
You're not Sherry. I get it.
Wow, you get it.
That's great, Lor.
Thanks for telling
me how I feel.
- Tired?
- I'm good.
I could always have the car
come pick us up at the corner.
I'm fine.
Hey, I know. I could carry you.
- Carry me?
- Yeah.
Piggyback, fireman's carry,
in both arms -- your choice.
No.
I'm really fine.
Wow, okay.
So, I guess something's really wrong.
Just because I don't want
to be fireman carried
doesn't mean that
something is wrong.
- But something is wrong.
- No, it's just --
Just?
This isn't exactly what
I expected tonight.
I was just a little confused,
I guess.
You called. You were so excited.
You said, "celebrate."
I thought it was
gonna be just us.
Last night was just us.
I know,
and it was also perfect and romantic.
And the more I talk about it, the more
I feel stupid for even bringing this up.
Look, I'm sorry I wasn't
clear on the phone.
I'm sorry that you didn't
have a good time tonight.
Well, no, it's not that. I mean,
I get it. The guys are great. Okay.
But, technically Bobby, well,
she's not exactly a guy.
Yeah, you got me there.
And until about three hours ago,
I thought that she was a guy.
You know why?
Because you never use personal
pronouns -- "She," "her."
I mean, would that have been
so unbelievably difficult
to fit into a conversation?
I don't know about you, but most
of the Bobbys I know are guys --
Bobby Kennedy, Bobby Brady,
Bobby Knight, Bobby Brown.
You're smiling at me.
Why are smiling at me?
Because you are very cute
when you're jealous.
- I'm not jealous.
- Rory.
Oh, and it's not just that.
I mean, it was everything.
It was not feeling
like I was included.
I mean, no one all night
asked me anything about me.
Bobby asked you about you.
Yeah, and how
condescending was she?
"It's such a luxury
to read literature."
And did you hear
what she called us?
"Adorable." She called
us an adorable couple.
- Wait, she said that out loud?
- Yes, adorable.
Wow, you want me to go back
there and kick her ass?
"Adorable" is what you say
about a "Full House" rerun.
It's not what you say
about something that lasts.
The great wall of China, the pyramids --
no one ever called them "adorable."
And excuse me, but how many times does
a girl need to stand up at dinner?
Yes, you have legs. We get it.
"Oh, no, I'm not leaving.
I'm just going to the loo."
Here's a tip. You're in america now.
Speak english.
Okay, so just to clarify,
in the future, you would prefer
I work only with girls
who have no legs.
You're not taking me seriously.
Because you're
not being serious.
Bobby is my colleague.
She's great at what she does.
She's smart. She's talented.
Nick has great legs, too.
Maybe before you rush to judgment,
you should check his out.
Great. So now I'm not just an idiot,
I'm an anti-feminist idiot,
an anti-feminist who's
standing here in the street
arguing about things I don't
really want to be arguing about.
- You don't?
- No.
Do you think I like
feeling this way?
I mean, I haven't seen
you for months and months,
and now you're in town for what?
26 hours?
And in that time, I can't just get
happy and act like a fruit fly?
Mayfly.
I can't just live in the moment and
enjoy the 26 great hours ahead of me?
I have to be sulky and miserable
while all the other fruit flies
share private jokes
with my boyfriend?
You think I like this
about myself? Wrong.
I hate myself for
being this way.
I hate Bobby for her
professionally tweezed eyebrows
and her oh-so-incredible ability
to stand up at a moment's notice.
And most of all,
I hate the fact that in a few seconds
you'll be in that
car leaving me again.
That is a hell of a long way to
go just to say, "I miss you."
Any thoughts in response?
I miss you, too, Ace.
Five words.
You only used five words.
Yeah, well, I'm not done yet.
Of course, this time of year,
so many people start playing
that awful winter tennis with the
chicken-wire cages and the heated courts.
Platform tennis can be
very enjoyable, Emily.
Yes, but it looks ridiculous,
like glorified ping-pong.
If I wanted to play ping-pong,
I would --
Well, if I wanted to play ping-pong,
I would kill myself.
Well, I hope you're still good
with a racket, Christopher.
Lorelai was always hopeless.
As a child, we took her to an
ophthalmologist to test her
depth perception.
He could find no
rational reason for it.
I know I'm not Sherry.
I'm sorry. Did he serve you Sherry?
Richard, there's been some mistake.
Christopher's drink was
supposed to be port.
Come to Paris with me.
- What?
- You were right.
I should take G.G.
myself, check everything out.
Check what out?
Paris. I think they want
to check out Paris.
Come on. You can't say "no." I mean,
you can, but don't.
Maybe there's even a Parisian
ice hotel we can stay in.
Yes. I mean, no,
there is no ice hotel.
But I'll stay in one
made of stone or bricks
or whatever Paris
hotels are made of.
We can blast the air-conditioning
and drink all the vodka you want.
- What on earth --
- That sounds great.
What happened when you
went to the powder room?
One minute,
we're sitting here having dessert.
And the next,
you're talking about Paris.
Well, Chris and I
are going to Paris.
In just a couple of
weeks, actually.
I'm so sorry we're gonna have to take
a rain check on that tennis date.
Yeah, till the 12th of never 'cause we
wouldn't play tennis or golf or bridge
or any game that could be
played in a foursome --
except hangman and
sometimes pictionary.
What has gotten into you?
You were being so pleasant all evening.
Mmm, what is this?
This looks good.
"What is it"? I told you 20 minutes ago.
It was rhubarb pie.
Hmm. Is it still rhubarb pie?
I swear I was having
the most wonderful time.
Is rhubarb a root, dad?
No.
- Hi, everyone.
- Honey!
- Hey.
- Am I late?
Of course not, Rory.
You're just in time
for rooty rhubarb pie,
and for the viewing
of mom's mug shot.
Rory, stop her.
I'm sure you look
very nice, grandma.
You are very photogenic, Emily.
Ooh! What am I saying?
I have pictures on my phone.
Gather 'round the
phone, everybody.
Richard, what are you doing?
Oh, nothing. Nothing.
Oh! These new
phones are amazing.
Are those handcuffs?
Grandma, are you wearing handcuffs?
I certainly was not.
No, they gave her one of
those ankle things instead
with like a chain and
cannonball on the end.
Christopher!
Oh, and the stripy outfit.
Tell Rory how they made you wear
the stripy outfit, mom.
No.
No!
- No!
- No!
- Yeah, yeah, that one!
- Yeah! Stop there!