Hot in Cleveland (2010–2015): Season 3, Episode 19 - Bye George, I Think He's Got It! - full transcript
Joy prepares to marry her not long to live boy friend.
Last time on "Hot in Cleveland"
Joy met George,
a great guy who only
had 3 months to live.
But while Joy
was helping George
cross things
off his bucket list,
she fell for him--hard.
Who are you?
Your new boyfriend.
Get used to it.
Ah, we did it, Joy.
To Rio and back
in under 24 hours.
- Where's your bucket list?
- Oh!
I am officially
crossing off
"fly to Brazil for
a truly great cup of coffee."
Oh, I hadn't noticed
this one.
"Sleep with 300 women."
- Did I write that?
- It's underlined twice
and all in caps.
George!
You only have
three months to live!
How could you possibly
sleep with 300 women?
Hmm, you're right.
How about I just
sleep with you 300 times?
In three months?
Well, it's only,
like, 31/2 times a day.
Huh, well,
we already did the half one.
Yeah,
sorry about that.
You know,
having sex on the beach
sounds like a good idea,
but then there's all the sand
and the bottle caps,
and that kid
with the lost soccer ball.
Marry me, Joy.
What?
- We hardly know each other.
- What's to know?
I've only got three months.
How bad could it be?
You're right,
there's nothing so awful
you can't put up with it
for three months.
And suddenly,
that doesn't sound romantic.
Hmm, to the contrary,
it's nothing but romantic.
All we'll have
is the honeymoon--
a three-month honeymoon.
Travel the world with me.
Oh, I don't know.
I'm not an impulsive person.
And I hate that about you.
But I only have to put up
with it for three months!
True!
I hate when you
clear your throat like that.
But I'd only have to put up
with it for three months!
That is the ugliest shirt
I have ever seen,
and I dated Jimmy Buffet.
I stole it out of
George's bag this morning.
I told him I could put up
with anything for three months,
but this shirt
is too hideous,
especially now that
I'm going to be... his wife!
- What?
- Are you k--what?
I give it two months.
He has three months
to live.
I know.
We're getting married
on Friday,
then we're traveling
the world together.
Joy, are you sure
you've thought this through?
You know,
obviously not.
I mean, how are you
going to pack for three months?
I know I'm rushing into this,
but what's the alternative?
George doesn't have much time,
and I truly adore him.
You're doing
a good thing, Joy.
Having you for a wife
will make dying much easier.
You're just mad because
you can no longer call me
"the spinster Scroggs."
Hmm, "the widow Scroggs"
does have a classic ring.
Aren't you gonna
take his last name?
You've always hated yours.
Yes, but George's
is worse.
Well, how much worse
could it be?
Believe me,
it's gross.
Well, come on,
it can't be that bad.
His last name
is "Gross."
I'd be "the widow Gross."
Oh, I wonder
who that could be.
Probably my twin sister.
Your what?
- You have a twin?
- Elka...
Why did you
never mention this?
I'm an enigma,
wrapped inside a conundrum,
shrouded in dimples.
Why hasn't
she visited before?
We had a big fight.
We haven't spoken in 40 years!
But Joy's dying guy
got me thinking,
maybe it's time
we let bygones be bygones.
Oh, that's so sweet.
You're gonna patch things up.
I forgot
how needy she was.
I'm annoyed already.
Elka!
Anka!
Ah...
You look terrible!
What have you done
to our face?
Me?
What about you?
"Natural aging."
Disgusting!
Where's the famous
Ostrovsky neck freckle?
You had it removed!
Oh, please.
After five facelifts,
it's on my forehead!
Oh, Anka, would you like
something to eat?
Oh, no,
thank you, no.
I couldn't eat with that
freakish thing in the room.
Yeah, Joy puts me
off my food too.
No, no, no,
I--I meant the shirt.
Relax, I'm tossing it
in the rubbish right now.
So, 40 years.
That must've been some fight.
- Horrible.
- Oh, vicious.
What was it about again?
Oh, crap.
Alzheimer's!
Has it gotten
to the point
where she thinks
Kleenex is money?
Okay, so what was
the fight about?
Well,
I don't remember.
Was it when
I pretended to be you
and slept with
your boyfriend?
No.
Was it when
I pretended to be you
and escaped from Poland?
No.
What about a drink?
It's 9:00 A.M.!
- Vodka then.
- Sure!
Oh!
It's my husband-to-be.
Hello,
husband-to-be.
Your lucky flowered shirt
is missing?
Yeah,
I know the one.
I love that shirt.
I'm in my bedroom right now.
I'll look around for it.
Nope,
don't see it anywhere.
What?
You want to
be buried in it?
Don't worry, I'll find it.
I've got to retrieve that shirt
before the trash man does!
Hello, Joy!
Oh, thank God.
Well, this is going better
than I thought.
- Take off your shirt.
- A lot better than I thought!
Artie, I need that shirt back.
It's my fiance's favorite.
He's dying and he wants
to be buried in it.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Thank you, but we've
made peace with it, so--
No, no, no, I'm sorry
I can't give you the shirt back.
I found it in the trash,
and as a former homeless man,
I'm well-versed
in the 1988 landmark decision,
Finders v. Weepers.
Artie,
you're a billionaire now.
Surely you can buy yourself
100 hideous shirts.
Perhaps. Or perhaps
I will hold this one hostage.
For what?
Money?
No, for love!
The love of a good woman!
Joy, I need you to give me
a makeover so I can find one!
Wait, what happened to
the love of your life, Preshi,
from the rubber ball?
Ah, I am a Firestone,
of Firestone rubber.
She is an Elmer,
of Elmer's glue.
When our families realized
I was rubber and she was glue...
Well!
But I don't have time
to give you a makeover.
I'm getting married
in two days.
You know what, Joy?
We'll give him a makeover.
- You will?
- Yeah, why not.
We like a good challenge.
It's like My Fair Lady.
Eliza Doolittle me!
I'm a good girl, I am!
What's going on in here?
Holy moly! Twins!
What was
that fight about?
Was it when I shot you
in the shoulder?
Oh, no,
you were drunk.
I'm sure our fight happened
when we were sober.
Well,
that narrows it down.
Oh, really, mom?
You can't make it in time
to the wedding?
Oh, I'm so disappointed.
Yes!
Well, we're traveling the world.
Of course we'll stop in London.
I love you, too.
You know,
with that accent and figure,
you remind me of a--
a gorgeous British movie star.
Oh, um, oh,
well-what's the name?
Kate Beckinsale?
No.
Who am I thinking of?
- Hugh Grant.
- Bingo!
All right, Artie,
now you walk into the bar
and scan the room.
Now you spot
a beautiful woman at the bar.
You approach, say hello,
and then say the first thing
that comes to mind.
- Hello.
- Hello.
I wonder how you'd look
in a vat of creamed corn.
The second thing
that comes to mind.
A vat of baked beans.
No vats.
Third thing.
I bet I could fit
your whole head in my mouth!
Fourth thing.
You're a beautiful woman,
yet there's a sadness
behind your eyes.
May I buy you a drink?
Yes!
That's it!
Artie,
when you're with a woman,
say only the fourth thing
that comes to mind.
By George,
I think I've got it!
And now, if you'll excuse me,
I have to use the...
Men's room.
That was incredible.
- Wanna hear some music?
- Sure.
What are you doing?
Don't tell me
I'm the first man
you've been with who plays
the post-coital ukulele.
Any requests?
Do you know
the refrain from playing?
Why do I smell bananas?
I lit my monkey candle.
But a monkey
doesn't smell like a banana.
You want it to smell
like burning monkeys?
You're adorable.
You know, if I weren't
already marrying you,
I'd want to marry you.
Aww.
Sorry.
Three months.
Hey, I finished writing
my wedding vows this afternoon.
- You wanna hear 'Em?
- No, they'll only make me cry.
Would you rather
I played my ukulele again?
Let's hear those vows!
"Joy.
"From this day on,
I choose you to be my wife.
"I pledge to kiss you slowly,
to be food for your soul,
"to sleep in your arms,
to comfort you with my body,
"just as you promise
to comfort me with yours,
"and we both promise
to comfort no others
for the rest of eternity."
Wait, did you just say
I can't sleep with other men
after you're gone?
Well, for,
you know, eternity.
Hey, I'm not gonna
have any sex either.
Because you'll be dead!
Okay, what if
I promise to observe
a proper grieving period?
How about six months?
- 30 years.
- Nine months.
Two years!
And nothing below the belt.
One year,
final offer.
Okay, one year,
but you have to promise me,
the first person
you have sex with again,
you have to cry out
my name.
Oh, George.
No, more like,
"oh! George!"
Unless his name is George,
and then, silence.
Melanie,
you're so beautiful,
I'd like to keep you
in my basement.
That was your third thought,
wasn't it?
Yes.
I need the fingers.
You look
breathtaking tonight.
Aw, thank you.
Fourth-thought Artie
is a very charming guy.
Oh! This is
what I was afraid of!
You created
the perfect man,
and now you've fallen in love
with your creation.
No, I have not.
You hide it well.
And we're done.
Your perfect woman
is at the bar,
tearing up over The Bachelor.
No wedding ring.
She's already had
two glasses of Pinot.
Ah, make that three.
Okay, you got your lady,
now give us the shirt.
Not until the deal is sealed,
but here's a picture of it
with today's newspaper,
so you know it's still alive.
Okay,
she's drunk, he's rich.
It could work.
Melanie,
we pulled it off.
We've actually made Artie
palatable to women.
I'm five feet away,
and thank you!
- Jacob!
- Edward!
- Tupac!
- Biggie!
Look, I-I don't mean
to butt in, but you two
have been fighting on either
side of me for over an hour.
Now Joy told me that my
situation inspired your reunion.
Do you think there's any way
that I can inspire you guys
to bury the hatchet?
Life is short!
Dying guy's
kinda preachy.
Did you see
the cheap ring he got her?
What's he saving
his money for?
Well,
glad I could help.
Pay it forward, guys.
The bride
is almost ready.
She's nervous,
so she borrowed something blue
from my medicine cabinet.
I suppose I didn't
have to announce that,
but I took something orange
and, well, I'm a little chatty.
- The deal is sealed.
- Oh, great, thanks.
Uh, we're about to
have a wedding,
but I'm glad that things
went well last night.
No, things
did not go well!
Yes, I got,
as the Bible says, "laid,"
but all that counting to four
before I speak, it's exhausting.
I want a woman
who loves me for myself!
- Like you, Victoria.
- I do not love you.
Liar!
Here comes the bride!
Ohh.
All dressed in...
White!
Bold choice.
Where's George?
He showed up, didn't he?
I'm right here, baby.
And you look insanely beautiful.
And you look
very handsome as well.
So are you ready for
three months of wedded bliss?
Absolutely.
Hey, look!
You found my lucky shirt!
I did?
I did!
Surprise!
When is the minister
gonna get here?
What time
did you tell him to come?
I thought the minister
was your job.
I thought it was yours.
Perhaps I can be
of service.
Reverend Artie Firestone,
Universal Life Church.
I'm also a licensed mohel,
should you feel the urge
to take a little off the top.
- Should we?
- Why not?
Come on, everybody.
I'm getting married.
Dearly beloved,
we are gathered here today
to join this man and woman
in holy matrimony.
Do you, Rejoyla Scroggs--
what a ghastly name--
- take this man, George...
- Gross.
George Gross, to be
your lawful wedded husband,
for better or for worse--
Sorry,
I meant to turn that off.
- Oh, it's my doctor.
- Oh, you should take that.
- No, no, I could always--
- No, no, no, no.
- It could be important.
- Hmm, okay.
Hi, Dr. Marcil.
No, it's okay,
I'm just getting married.
Mm-hmm.
Mm-hmm.
Really?
Are you sure?
Wow.
That's--
oh, thank you, thank you.
What?
What is it?
I can't believe this.
I just got
my new blood work back,
and instead of a few months,
I've got more like two years.
- Really? That's amazing!
- Yes!
- Two years! Wow!
- Two years!
- Two years.
- Two years.
- Not three months.
- Not three months.
May I continue?
By all means.
Hang on.
Uh, we both said
there were a lot of things
we could put up with
for three months,
like throat clearing,
and monkey candles,
- and ugly shirts, and--
- What ugly shirt?
Never mind.
It's just that now
you have all this time
to do all the things
on your bucket list,
and I don't want to
stand in your way.
Be honest with me, George.
Well, I guess I still
would like to take a shot at
sleeping with 300 women.
- What?
- You told me to be honest.
You should've
said the fourth thing.
Are you saying
two years is too long
to have sex with just me?
Well, I--
What if you had
six months to live?
Oh, it would
still be you, baby.
Nine months?
Y-you...
Definitely you, yeah.
But come on, two years?
That's longer than
any relationship I've ever had.
It is?
I didn't know that.
Well, there's lots of things
I don't know about you.
Hmm, when Joy and I
were engaged,
we knew everything
about each other.
Wait a minute,
you two were engaged?
It was for a green card,
not for love.
Liar!
Well, I guess
there's some things
I don't know
about you too.
We're rushing
into something
that doesn't need
rushing into any more.
Look, Joy, I don't know how
all this is going to play out,
but in a year,
if you're still available,
do you think
maybe I could--
Come and see me again?
Yes, but not
in that hideous shirt.
Fair enough.
One last kiss?
By the power
vested in me,
I now pronounce you
not man and wife.
And as a licensed mohel,
I will cut the cake.
Well, it's officially
my second failed wedding,
only this time I'm twice as old.
So, you know...
It's not so sad.
Well, we're off
to the ballgame.
- Have fun.
- Go Indians!
Indians? Sweetheart,
I root for the Reds.
That was our fight!
1972, you ditched Cleveland
to root for Cincinnati!
Because
the Indians sucked
ever since
they traded Rocky Colavito!
Gaylord Perry took
the Cy Young that year!
Perry!
That dirty pitcher!
That man had
more vaseline on his balls
than Elton John uses
to squeeze into his show pants.
Come on, we're gonna
miss the first pitch.
Well,
age before beauty.
I'm two minutes younger,
you know?
The happiest two minutes
of Mom's life.
I should've strangled you
while we were still in the womb
and I had the chance.
By the way,
you are buying the hot dogs.
Oh,
speaking of hot dogs,
your head is pulled tighter
than a ballpark frank.
And full of
just as much crap.
You still like mustard?
Joy met George,
a great guy who only
had 3 months to live.
But while Joy
was helping George
cross things
off his bucket list,
she fell for him--hard.
Who are you?
Your new boyfriend.
Get used to it.
Ah, we did it, Joy.
To Rio and back
in under 24 hours.
- Where's your bucket list?
- Oh!
I am officially
crossing off
"fly to Brazil for
a truly great cup of coffee."
Oh, I hadn't noticed
this one.
"Sleep with 300 women."
- Did I write that?
- It's underlined twice
and all in caps.
George!
You only have
three months to live!
How could you possibly
sleep with 300 women?
Hmm, you're right.
How about I just
sleep with you 300 times?
In three months?
Well, it's only,
like, 31/2 times a day.
Huh, well,
we already did the half one.
Yeah,
sorry about that.
You know,
having sex on the beach
sounds like a good idea,
but then there's all the sand
and the bottle caps,
and that kid
with the lost soccer ball.
Marry me, Joy.
What?
- We hardly know each other.
- What's to know?
I've only got three months.
How bad could it be?
You're right,
there's nothing so awful
you can't put up with it
for three months.
And suddenly,
that doesn't sound romantic.
Hmm, to the contrary,
it's nothing but romantic.
All we'll have
is the honeymoon--
a three-month honeymoon.
Travel the world with me.
Oh, I don't know.
I'm not an impulsive person.
And I hate that about you.
But I only have to put up
with it for three months!
True!
I hate when you
clear your throat like that.
But I'd only have to put up
with it for three months!
That is the ugliest shirt
I have ever seen,
and I dated Jimmy Buffet.
I stole it out of
George's bag this morning.
I told him I could put up
with anything for three months,
but this shirt
is too hideous,
especially now that
I'm going to be... his wife!
- What?
- Are you k--what?
I give it two months.
He has three months
to live.
I know.
We're getting married
on Friday,
then we're traveling
the world together.
Joy, are you sure
you've thought this through?
You know,
obviously not.
I mean, how are you
going to pack for three months?
I know I'm rushing into this,
but what's the alternative?
George doesn't have much time,
and I truly adore him.
You're doing
a good thing, Joy.
Having you for a wife
will make dying much easier.
You're just mad because
you can no longer call me
"the spinster Scroggs."
Hmm, "the widow Scroggs"
does have a classic ring.
Aren't you gonna
take his last name?
You've always hated yours.
Yes, but George's
is worse.
Well, how much worse
could it be?
Believe me,
it's gross.
Well, come on,
it can't be that bad.
His last name
is "Gross."
I'd be "the widow Gross."
Oh, I wonder
who that could be.
Probably my twin sister.
Your what?
- You have a twin?
- Elka...
Why did you
never mention this?
I'm an enigma,
wrapped inside a conundrum,
shrouded in dimples.
Why hasn't
she visited before?
We had a big fight.
We haven't spoken in 40 years!
But Joy's dying guy
got me thinking,
maybe it's time
we let bygones be bygones.
Oh, that's so sweet.
You're gonna patch things up.
I forgot
how needy she was.
I'm annoyed already.
Elka!
Anka!
Ah...
You look terrible!
What have you done
to our face?
Me?
What about you?
"Natural aging."
Disgusting!
Where's the famous
Ostrovsky neck freckle?
You had it removed!
Oh, please.
After five facelifts,
it's on my forehead!
Oh, Anka, would you like
something to eat?
Oh, no,
thank you, no.
I couldn't eat with that
freakish thing in the room.
Yeah, Joy puts me
off my food too.
No, no, no,
I--I meant the shirt.
Relax, I'm tossing it
in the rubbish right now.
So, 40 years.
That must've been some fight.
- Horrible.
- Oh, vicious.
What was it about again?
Oh, crap.
Alzheimer's!
Has it gotten
to the point
where she thinks
Kleenex is money?
Okay, so what was
the fight about?
Well,
I don't remember.
Was it when
I pretended to be you
and slept with
your boyfriend?
No.
Was it when
I pretended to be you
and escaped from Poland?
No.
What about a drink?
It's 9:00 A.M.!
- Vodka then.
- Sure!
Oh!
It's my husband-to-be.
Hello,
husband-to-be.
Your lucky flowered shirt
is missing?
Yeah,
I know the one.
I love that shirt.
I'm in my bedroom right now.
I'll look around for it.
Nope,
don't see it anywhere.
What?
You want to
be buried in it?
Don't worry, I'll find it.
I've got to retrieve that shirt
before the trash man does!
Hello, Joy!
Oh, thank God.
Well, this is going better
than I thought.
- Take off your shirt.
- A lot better than I thought!
Artie, I need that shirt back.
It's my fiance's favorite.
He's dying and he wants
to be buried in it.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Thank you, but we've
made peace with it, so--
No, no, no, I'm sorry
I can't give you the shirt back.
I found it in the trash,
and as a former homeless man,
I'm well-versed
in the 1988 landmark decision,
Finders v. Weepers.
Artie,
you're a billionaire now.
Surely you can buy yourself
100 hideous shirts.
Perhaps. Or perhaps
I will hold this one hostage.
For what?
Money?
No, for love!
The love of a good woman!
Joy, I need you to give me
a makeover so I can find one!
Wait, what happened to
the love of your life, Preshi,
from the rubber ball?
Ah, I am a Firestone,
of Firestone rubber.
She is an Elmer,
of Elmer's glue.
When our families realized
I was rubber and she was glue...
Well!
But I don't have time
to give you a makeover.
I'm getting married
in two days.
You know what, Joy?
We'll give him a makeover.
- You will?
- Yeah, why not.
We like a good challenge.
It's like My Fair Lady.
Eliza Doolittle me!
I'm a good girl, I am!
What's going on in here?
Holy moly! Twins!
What was
that fight about?
Was it when I shot you
in the shoulder?
Oh, no,
you were drunk.
I'm sure our fight happened
when we were sober.
Well,
that narrows it down.
Oh, really, mom?
You can't make it in time
to the wedding?
Oh, I'm so disappointed.
Yes!
Well, we're traveling the world.
Of course we'll stop in London.
I love you, too.
You know,
with that accent and figure,
you remind me of a--
a gorgeous British movie star.
Oh, um, oh,
well-what's the name?
Kate Beckinsale?
No.
Who am I thinking of?
- Hugh Grant.
- Bingo!
All right, Artie,
now you walk into the bar
and scan the room.
Now you spot
a beautiful woman at the bar.
You approach, say hello,
and then say the first thing
that comes to mind.
- Hello.
- Hello.
I wonder how you'd look
in a vat of creamed corn.
The second thing
that comes to mind.
A vat of baked beans.
No vats.
Third thing.
I bet I could fit
your whole head in my mouth!
Fourth thing.
You're a beautiful woman,
yet there's a sadness
behind your eyes.
May I buy you a drink?
Yes!
That's it!
Artie,
when you're with a woman,
say only the fourth thing
that comes to mind.
By George,
I think I've got it!
And now, if you'll excuse me,
I have to use the...
Men's room.
That was incredible.
- Wanna hear some music?
- Sure.
What are you doing?
Don't tell me
I'm the first man
you've been with who plays
the post-coital ukulele.
Any requests?
Do you know
the refrain from playing?
Why do I smell bananas?
I lit my monkey candle.
But a monkey
doesn't smell like a banana.
You want it to smell
like burning monkeys?
You're adorable.
You know, if I weren't
already marrying you,
I'd want to marry you.
Aww.
Sorry.
Three months.
Hey, I finished writing
my wedding vows this afternoon.
- You wanna hear 'Em?
- No, they'll only make me cry.
Would you rather
I played my ukulele again?
Let's hear those vows!
"Joy.
"From this day on,
I choose you to be my wife.
"I pledge to kiss you slowly,
to be food for your soul,
"to sleep in your arms,
to comfort you with my body,
"just as you promise
to comfort me with yours,
"and we both promise
to comfort no others
for the rest of eternity."
Wait, did you just say
I can't sleep with other men
after you're gone?
Well, for,
you know, eternity.
Hey, I'm not gonna
have any sex either.
Because you'll be dead!
Okay, what if
I promise to observe
a proper grieving period?
How about six months?
- 30 years.
- Nine months.
Two years!
And nothing below the belt.
One year,
final offer.
Okay, one year,
but you have to promise me,
the first person
you have sex with again,
you have to cry out
my name.
Oh, George.
No, more like,
"oh! George!"
Unless his name is George,
and then, silence.
Melanie,
you're so beautiful,
I'd like to keep you
in my basement.
That was your third thought,
wasn't it?
Yes.
I need the fingers.
You look
breathtaking tonight.
Aw, thank you.
Fourth-thought Artie
is a very charming guy.
Oh! This is
what I was afraid of!
You created
the perfect man,
and now you've fallen in love
with your creation.
No, I have not.
You hide it well.
And we're done.
Your perfect woman
is at the bar,
tearing up over The Bachelor.
No wedding ring.
She's already had
two glasses of Pinot.
Ah, make that three.
Okay, you got your lady,
now give us the shirt.
Not until the deal is sealed,
but here's a picture of it
with today's newspaper,
so you know it's still alive.
Okay,
she's drunk, he's rich.
It could work.
Melanie,
we pulled it off.
We've actually made Artie
palatable to women.
I'm five feet away,
and thank you!
- Jacob!
- Edward!
- Tupac!
- Biggie!
Look, I-I don't mean
to butt in, but you two
have been fighting on either
side of me for over an hour.
Now Joy told me that my
situation inspired your reunion.
Do you think there's any way
that I can inspire you guys
to bury the hatchet?
Life is short!
Dying guy's
kinda preachy.
Did you see
the cheap ring he got her?
What's he saving
his money for?
Well,
glad I could help.
Pay it forward, guys.
The bride
is almost ready.
She's nervous,
so she borrowed something blue
from my medicine cabinet.
I suppose I didn't
have to announce that,
but I took something orange
and, well, I'm a little chatty.
- The deal is sealed.
- Oh, great, thanks.
Uh, we're about to
have a wedding,
but I'm glad that things
went well last night.
No, things
did not go well!
Yes, I got,
as the Bible says, "laid,"
but all that counting to four
before I speak, it's exhausting.
I want a woman
who loves me for myself!
- Like you, Victoria.
- I do not love you.
Liar!
Here comes the bride!
Ohh.
All dressed in...
White!
Bold choice.
Where's George?
He showed up, didn't he?
I'm right here, baby.
And you look insanely beautiful.
And you look
very handsome as well.
So are you ready for
three months of wedded bliss?
Absolutely.
Hey, look!
You found my lucky shirt!
I did?
I did!
Surprise!
When is the minister
gonna get here?
What time
did you tell him to come?
I thought the minister
was your job.
I thought it was yours.
Perhaps I can be
of service.
Reverend Artie Firestone,
Universal Life Church.
I'm also a licensed mohel,
should you feel the urge
to take a little off the top.
- Should we?
- Why not?
Come on, everybody.
I'm getting married.
Dearly beloved,
we are gathered here today
to join this man and woman
in holy matrimony.
Do you, Rejoyla Scroggs--
what a ghastly name--
- take this man, George...
- Gross.
George Gross, to be
your lawful wedded husband,
for better or for worse--
Sorry,
I meant to turn that off.
- Oh, it's my doctor.
- Oh, you should take that.
- No, no, I could always--
- No, no, no, no.
- It could be important.
- Hmm, okay.
Hi, Dr. Marcil.
No, it's okay,
I'm just getting married.
Mm-hmm.
Mm-hmm.
Really?
Are you sure?
Wow.
That's--
oh, thank you, thank you.
What?
What is it?
I can't believe this.
I just got
my new blood work back,
and instead of a few months,
I've got more like two years.
- Really? That's amazing!
- Yes!
- Two years! Wow!
- Two years!
- Two years.
- Two years.
- Not three months.
- Not three months.
May I continue?
By all means.
Hang on.
Uh, we both said
there were a lot of things
we could put up with
for three months,
like throat clearing,
and monkey candles,
- and ugly shirts, and--
- What ugly shirt?
Never mind.
It's just that now
you have all this time
to do all the things
on your bucket list,
and I don't want to
stand in your way.
Be honest with me, George.
Well, I guess I still
would like to take a shot at
sleeping with 300 women.
- What?
- You told me to be honest.
You should've
said the fourth thing.
Are you saying
two years is too long
to have sex with just me?
Well, I--
What if you had
six months to live?
Oh, it would
still be you, baby.
Nine months?
Y-you...
Definitely you, yeah.
But come on, two years?
That's longer than
any relationship I've ever had.
It is?
I didn't know that.
Well, there's lots of things
I don't know about you.
Hmm, when Joy and I
were engaged,
we knew everything
about each other.
Wait a minute,
you two were engaged?
It was for a green card,
not for love.
Liar!
Well, I guess
there's some things
I don't know
about you too.
We're rushing
into something
that doesn't need
rushing into any more.
Look, Joy, I don't know how
all this is going to play out,
but in a year,
if you're still available,
do you think
maybe I could--
Come and see me again?
Yes, but not
in that hideous shirt.
Fair enough.
One last kiss?
By the power
vested in me,
I now pronounce you
not man and wife.
And as a licensed mohel,
I will cut the cake.
Well, it's officially
my second failed wedding,
only this time I'm twice as old.
So, you know...
It's not so sad.
Well, we're off
to the ballgame.
- Have fun.
- Go Indians!
Indians? Sweetheart,
I root for the Reds.
That was our fight!
1972, you ditched Cleveland
to root for Cincinnati!
Because
the Indians sucked
ever since
they traded Rocky Colavito!
Gaylord Perry took
the Cy Young that year!
Perry!
That dirty pitcher!
That man had
more vaseline on his balls
than Elton John uses
to squeeze into his show pants.
Come on, we're gonna
miss the first pitch.
Well,
age before beauty.
I'm two minutes younger,
you know?
The happiest two minutes
of Mom's life.
I should've strangled you
while we were still in the womb
and I had the chance.
By the way,
you are buying the hot dogs.
Oh,
speaking of hot dogs,
your head is pulled tighter
than a ballpark frank.
And full of
just as much crap.
You still like mustard?