Just Shoot Me! (1997–2003): Season 7, Episode 7 - The Write Stuff - full transcript
- Hey Finch. Can you try...
- Da, da, da, da.
Very busy right now.
Writing a poem for one
of my college classes.
- Oh. When did you get
so concerned about school?
- This morning when they said
they were going to kick me out
if I don't pass English.
This has got to be like the
greatest poem ever written.
Can you think of
something that rhymes with
slap it on the bing bong?
- Dennis. Who is
the fourth Monkey?
- Peter Tork.
- Thanks. It's kept
me up all night.
What are you doing?
- Oh, uh, just a
little school work.
- Oh great. You know, I am
still waiting to see your grades.
- Oh, right. About that.
It might be delayed a bit.
There was a fire
in the grade house.
- Right. Dennis, until I see
some grades, good grades,
I won't be sending a
check to the tuition house.
- Man, if I flunk out of
school he's gonna kill me.
Come on, you gotta
help me write this poem.
- No, it would be cheating.
- It's not cheating. It's
tutoring, mentoring, helping.
I mean, for gods sakes,
you send 70 cents a week
to that kid in Honduras.
You don't even know him.
Why are you so into
Pepe and not me?
I work with you.
Come on, I'm begging you.
- Alright, I'll help you
because I love poetry.
And the fact that
you asked for help
shows a lot of maturity.
Are you looking down my shirt?
- What? Plan. If we're
going to collaborate
it's all about trust.
Now, I want to
try a little exercise.
I'm going to stand her and
I need you to fall forward.
- Okay, next item.
We're still a feature
short for the holiday issue.
What do we got?
- How about a story
about America's most
voluptuous prisoners?
Felons with Melons.
- Dennis, for the 80th
time, stop pitching that.
- I have a concept
for a photo layout.
- Whoa, whoa Vicky.
Vicky, I know you are new here
but any photo concepts
have to be filtered through me
so I can ascertain if they
have any artistic merit.
- Okay, Elliot, what
ideas do you have?
- Well, Finch's melon
thing sounds good.
- Vicky, you were saying?
- It'll be a Blush
retrospective.
Supermodels from the past
who helped shape popular culture.
- That's good. We could get
somebody like Cheryl Tiegs.
- No, not Cheryl Tiegs.
She is psychotically
competitive.
She has always had
a problem with me.
- Nina, you hit her in
the head with a shovel.
- Well I had to. I
thought she was choking.
- Forget Cheryl Tiegs.
There's a lot of other
great models from that time.
There's Christie
Brinkley, there's Carol Alt.
- She's choking.
Someone get a shovel.
- Look, if we're
doing a retrospective,
then you should feature me.
I mean, when you think
of models from the 70s,
you think Nina Van Horn.
- No, when you think
of models in their 70s.
- Finch, I promise
you when they drop,
your voice will change.
- Nina, you would
be great in the issue
except for one thing.
When you model you become,
how do I say this delicately?
- A pain in the ass.
- Dennis please!
- A huge pain in the ass.
- That's it.
- Come on Jack, I've changed.
- For what's it's
worth, Nina is an icon.
- Dad, she is one of our own.
It would be great
publicity for the magazine.
- Fine. Nina, you're in.
Vicky this is your idea
so you're responsible.
- Thank you. You won't be sorry.
Now you probably heard
stories about how I like to drink
while on a shoot.
- Oh, don't worry. I
don't listen to rumors.
- No, I'm saying I'll need
a blender on the set.
- I've been working on
this poem for two hours
and I got nothing.
- Do you, or do you
have everything?
Look around Finch.
See the world, feel the
world, take the world,
put it on that page.
- Are you high?
- You've gotta think poetically.
Open your mind, dig deep.
What are you passionate about?
- I don't know.
Cats, Britney Spears,
porcelain figurines.
Usual guy stuff.
- No, no, no. Those are things.
I am talking about a truth.
Something in your soul
that just has to get out
like, I don't know,
a girls relationship
with her father.
- You know what's
cool? Nunchucks.
- Let's say the
father is distant.
Yeah, that's good.
And she builds up
a lot of resentment.
- Yeah, and she wanted to
wale on him with the nunchucks.
She's like hey, hey, hey,
whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
- Shush. I am on to something.
- Alright, alright.
Here is something
deep and personal.
When I was young,
my father blamed me
for my grandfathers death.
- Not now. I'm writing.
- I thought it would be fun.
I thought the old
coot could swim.
- This is so great.
My first big project and
it's with Nina Van Horn.
- Sure, it's easy for
you to be excited.
I'm the one who is going
to take all the abuse.
- What are you talking about?
- She's legendary
for treating her
photographers like garbage.
- Good morning.
It's a beautiful day.
The sun is shining.
- Right, like the top of
my head. I get it, I'm bald.
- What? I bought
you a croissant.
- Oh, I know, because
I'm flaky and pretentious.
Well, we're all laughing
at Elliot. Ha, ha, ha.
- This is so cool. I can't
wait to see you model.
- You are so sweet.
- You know, I was
homecoming queen at PS323.
A lot of people said I
should go into modeling.
- Teenagers can be so cruel.
Anyway, I picked out
something for the shoot.
An Armani gown flowing, elegant.
- That would be good,
but we are going to
have all the models
re-create their most
famous poses from the 70s.
You are going to
re-shoot your classic poster
wearing that leopard
print swimsuit.
- Well, I am surprised
that you could pry that away
from the model hall of fame.
- Actually they sold it to
some pervert in Wisconsin.
- Dear sweet Barry.
- Here it is.
- Wow, it's much
smaller than I remember.
- Actually, it's bigger.
Barry stretched out the waist.
Hey, there is my
favorite poem-osapian.
Check it out.
- It's great.
"Dennis, your
insights into the regrets
of a lonely child
are heartbreaking."
Oh my god, he really
responded to my writing.
- Yeah, I couldn't
get through it myself
but hey, it did the trick.
Jack, make room on your fridge.
Somebody got an A.
- Oh, Dennis. That's amazing.
I am so proud of you.
- Really? Thanks.
- I just thought you were
screwing around in college,
but you proved me wrong.
You should be rewarded.
- Can I have health insurance?
- Let's not start that again.
Let me just see what
the fuss is all about.
This is beautiful.
- You see, the
blooming of the crocuses
are an allegory
for a young girls...
- Maya please,
this is Dennis' work.
Let the author
explain what he meant.
- Okey doke.
The crocus petals opening up.
That's your standard
early poem flower crap.
You know what, forget
about what I think.
You are the reader,
what did it mean to you?
- Well, I think it's about
a fathers selfish neglect
of his fragile daughter.
- Oh my god,
that's exactly right.
- Maya please.
Dennis?
- Close.
- You know, Dennis,
you're smarter than
I give you credit for.
I should listen to
you more often.
- I got an idea for
the holiday issue.
Santa's Bustiest Helpers.
Call it Elves with Shelves.
- I'll think about it.
- Nina you are late.
- Nina, again I am
so excited about this.
So, let's get started okay.
- Alright. Let's see the suit.
I wanna make sure
the background works
with the leopard skin.
- Wait, I can't do this.
- Why not?
- Because the fruit looks cold.
- Fruit is supposed to be cold.
Who eats hot fruit?
- I'm not going to eat it.
I am just going to look at it
and I don't want
to look at cold fruit.
It's freaking me out man.
- Nina, we're all freaked
out about the fruit,
but we have to stay strong.
So, can we get back to work?
- Fine.
- Okay.
- Wait.
- What now?
- Lighting is all wrong.
- Let's get something clear.
I'm an artist.
Everyday I take ordinary women
and use composition and color
to transform them into
worshiped goddesses
then I sleep with them.
So, don't tell me
how to light my sets.
- Oh, go sit on your tripod.
- Diva.
- Hack.
- Burnout.
- Big Q-ball.
- Stop. This is my shoot
and I'm in control here.
So, stop screwing around
and get back to work.
- Dennis, I'd like you to
meet Jamie Barenson.
She is the publisher
of The Village Review
and one of the most respected
literary minds in the city.
- It's a pleasure to meet you.
- Likewise. English
huh? Chim-chim-chery.
How would you like a little
crumpet party at my flat?
- Dennis.
- Got it, your cake.
I'll put my fork away.
- Dad, I got the...
Oh my god, Jamie Barenson.
I am such a big fan
of your magazine.
I've actually submitted
poems to you before.
- I am sure you are
a bright original voice
and we will keep
your work on file.
Thank you.
- Hey, that is exactly
what they said in the letter.
Oh.
- Dennis, the reason I am here
is that Jack showed me your poem
and I was very impressed
with your writing.
- In fact, she liked it so much
she is going to publish it.
- Wait. That poem was
going to be published
under the name Dennis Finch?
- Yeah, I don't think
we want to do that.
I mean, poetry is
very personal to me.
It's like religion or
going to the bathroom.
- Look, this is a
great opportunity.
Don't you want to
be in the spotlight?
Don't you want people
who read that poem to say
that Dennis Finch is
a shining new star?
- What the hell, I
did write the thing.
- Go on Dennis.
I'll take you and Jamie
to lunch to celebrate
wherever you want.
- Alright. Medieval Times.
- This isn't fair.
I'm the one who should
be getting published.
- Don't be so bitter.
You sound like that
angry little brat in my poem.
- What's the matter with you?
- I'm having a tough day.
- You know what will
really lift your spirits?
Finch's poem,
it's really touching.
- Give me that.
Ugh, Finch didn't
write this, I did.
It's the best thing
I've ever written
and no one will
ever know it's mine.
- Wow, I am sorry.
Look as a fellow artist,
I understand your pain.
You just have to
believe in your ability
and maintain your dignity.
Hot grapes coming through.
- And then I wrote a poem
about a bear named Fuzzy.
Here is the irony, he wasn't
really fuzzy, or was he?
- Ah Dennis, you're a delight.
- You know, I used to find
Dennis childish and annoying,
but after reading that poem
I realize he's just very witty.
- Hey, did you hear the news?
Thousands of people are about
to see the talent of D. Finch.
- They are going
to watch your cat
drink milk from your mouth?
- Alright, whoever has got
that video, I need it back.
- I can't believe you are
going to let that poem
get published under your name.
- Whoa, hit the brakes
Maya Ange-loser.
You may have strung
a few notions together
but I am the
inspiration. I am a muse.
Dennis, get in here.
- Time for Jack to polish
up his little golden man.
- Good news. Jamie's magazine
is holding a literary reading
tomorrow night in the village
and I've convinced her to
let you recite a piece of work.
- I am so looking forward
to hearing another
piece of your work.
- Another one?
Can't I just read the one
that you are publishing?
- Oh, no.
The purpose of the reading
is to premier a new work.
- Can't you just premier
the old one again?
- Oh, Dennis, that is
exactly the kind of wit
I used to mistake for idiocy.
- Okay, this is my
first big project for Jack
and I'm not going
to let you ruin it.
So, get out there now.
- I'm afraid that's
out of the question.
- Fine. Then let me speak in
a language you'll understand.
- Oh my god.
Is that the Cheryl Tiegs shovel?
- No, it's the
Garden Master 2000
but they assured me
it would kill a model.
- I'm warning you,
I have a hand gun
hidden in my desk drawer.
- Your desk doesn't
have any drawers.
- Alright, you called my bluff.
What do you want?
- Get out there.
- I can't.
- Why not?
You've done this
a thousand times.
- I'm just not convinced
absolutely, 100 percent,
without a doubt
that I'll look good.
- Come on Nina,
you look amazing.
- I don't expect you to
understand how I feel,
but I was once considered
one of the most beautiful
women in the world.
And my image is tied
to that photo in 1978
and that's the image that I
want people to remember.
So no, I'm not doing it.
- I think you are
making a huge mistake
but if that's what you
want, I'll cover for you.
- Just don't say I was scared.
- Well I could
just tell everyone
you refuse to take the picture
because you are a
volatile, selfish, raving bitch.
- I'd really appreciate that.
- Hey pretty eyes.
I know I was kind
of a jerk before
so I got you a little gift.
It's my way of saying
sorry and thank you.
- "To Jack. Best
Wishes, Jimmy Carter."
- Yeah, that's a brand name.
So, now that I've given you
my special pen of friendship,
I need a favor.
I need you to write me a poem.
- Forget it.
- I'll be humiliated.
- No.
- I have one month to live.
- No!
- I'm 1/16th Cherokee,
you owe it to my people.
- Forget it Finch.
You're on your own.
- No, I'm not on my own.
I'm not going to get in
front of a bunch of people
and read some crappy poem.
- You have to read it in public?
- Yeah, and if
you don't write it,
I'll take you down with me
because you helped me cheat.
And you know what they
call people who cheat?
They call them cheaters, Maya.
You're a cheater,
cheater, cheater.
Plus, you have syphilis.
- What?
- Yeah, I had to
dress it up a little bit
because cheater wasn't
hitting you hard enough.
- Alright Finch, you got me.
I'll write you another poem.
- You will?
Yeah, you will.
That's right you will,
and it better have
that Finch-ian flair.
- Oh, it will.
- Cheryl, you look great.
- Oh, thanks babe.
- We'll be ready for
you in a minute okay?
- Okay sweetie.
- Thank you for coming
on such short notice.
- Oh, its my
pleasure, it's fine.
Holy crap, this
melon is on fire.
- I heard Cheryl Tiegs was here.
- You backed out,
we had no choice.
- Good to see you Cheryl.
Your feet look enormous,
did your collagen drop?
- Nina Van Horn, is it you?
Lay down and throw
up so I can be sure.
- Okay Cheryl. Why
don't you slip off the robe
and I'll shoot you in
that famous pink bikini.
- No.
- Why not?
- I'm posing. Beat it Tiegs.
- What's going on around here?
- I'm sorry but Nina was
our first choice for the cover.
- Great, so I slept
with Elliot for nothing.
- Okay, let's get going.
- I knew getting Cheryl
Tiegs would do the trick.
- Yes, good work.
- Okay, Nina Van Horn is back.
So, start shooting you
hunched-backed little camera monkey.
- Oh shut up you shallow-famed,
gobbling ego maniac.
- Fraud.
- Bitch.
- God it's good to be back.
- You look great.
- Hey. This is your big night.
You excited?
- Well, I'd be
lying if I didn't say
I was a little disappointed
with the quality
of the boo-tay.
- Dennis.
Yeah, I hear you.
- Oh, this is gonna be good.
- What? What's going on?
- I'm taking Finch down.
Usually I take the high road
but tonight it's payback time.
I'm giving him the
worst poem ever written.
- Oh, that sticker you wrote
three years ago about acid rain?
- No, that's a beautiful
poem I am very proud of.
- As well you should be.
- There you are, I
was getting worried.
- Oh, I'm sorry. I wanted
it to be just perfect.
I guess you're gonna
have to read it cold.
- No problem. I'll dress it
up with a little dramatic flair.
A move I call the Finch.
If that's too intense
I can bring it down.
- Ladies and gentlemen, I
think we're about to begin.
- Oh, good luck Finch. I
can't wait to hear you read this.
- Really, because I kinda
thought you were ticked off at me.
- Yeah, it's been kind of
tough but this is your night,
and what kind of
friend would I be
if I didn't let you have it.
- Thanks.
- Ladies and gentlemen, I
give you Dennis Quimby Finch.
- The Ice Pelican.
Wait, I can't do this.
You know, I usually
do the wrong thing
and tonight for once I'm
gonna take the high road.
I didn't write this poem.
- Yes you did. Yes you did.
- No I didn't. My friend Maya
Gallo wrote every single word,
and I think it's fitting
that she comes up here
and reads it for you.
- Oh no, no, no,
not fitting, not fitting.
- Come here. She's
shy, let's get her up here.
Maya Gallo, come one.
Let's go you
egg-head. Loosen up.
- Oh no, I don't want
to. I don't want to.
- You deserve it.
- The Ice Pelican.
- By Maya Gallo.
- Slap it on the bing bong.
Lick it like a ding dong.
Nunchucks on the fly.
Horny beef on rye.
Watch my lizard cry.
Hitler.
- Come on now.
Maya. Good stuff Maya.
She stole the bing
bong thing from me.
That was great. Whoo.
♪ Life keeps
bringing me back to you
♪ Keeps bringing me home
♪ It don't matter
what I wanna do
♪ It's got a mind of its own
♪ Life keeps bringing
me back to you ♪
- Da, da, da, da.
Very busy right now.
Writing a poem for one
of my college classes.
- Oh. When did you get
so concerned about school?
- This morning when they said
they were going to kick me out
if I don't pass English.
This has got to be like the
greatest poem ever written.
Can you think of
something that rhymes with
slap it on the bing bong?
- Dennis. Who is
the fourth Monkey?
- Peter Tork.
- Thanks. It's kept
me up all night.
What are you doing?
- Oh, uh, just a
little school work.
- Oh great. You know, I am
still waiting to see your grades.
- Oh, right. About that.
It might be delayed a bit.
There was a fire
in the grade house.
- Right. Dennis, until I see
some grades, good grades,
I won't be sending a
check to the tuition house.
- Man, if I flunk out of
school he's gonna kill me.
Come on, you gotta
help me write this poem.
- No, it would be cheating.
- It's not cheating. It's
tutoring, mentoring, helping.
I mean, for gods sakes,
you send 70 cents a week
to that kid in Honduras.
You don't even know him.
Why are you so into
Pepe and not me?
I work with you.
Come on, I'm begging you.
- Alright, I'll help you
because I love poetry.
And the fact that
you asked for help
shows a lot of maturity.
Are you looking down my shirt?
- What? Plan. If we're
going to collaborate
it's all about trust.
Now, I want to
try a little exercise.
I'm going to stand her and
I need you to fall forward.
- Okay, next item.
We're still a feature
short for the holiday issue.
What do we got?
- How about a story
about America's most
voluptuous prisoners?
Felons with Melons.
- Dennis, for the 80th
time, stop pitching that.
- I have a concept
for a photo layout.
- Whoa, whoa Vicky.
Vicky, I know you are new here
but any photo concepts
have to be filtered through me
so I can ascertain if they
have any artistic merit.
- Okay, Elliot, what
ideas do you have?
- Well, Finch's melon
thing sounds good.
- Vicky, you were saying?
- It'll be a Blush
retrospective.
Supermodels from the past
who helped shape popular culture.
- That's good. We could get
somebody like Cheryl Tiegs.
- No, not Cheryl Tiegs.
She is psychotically
competitive.
She has always had
a problem with me.
- Nina, you hit her in
the head with a shovel.
- Well I had to. I
thought she was choking.
- Forget Cheryl Tiegs.
There's a lot of other
great models from that time.
There's Christie
Brinkley, there's Carol Alt.
- She's choking.
Someone get a shovel.
- Look, if we're
doing a retrospective,
then you should feature me.
I mean, when you think
of models from the 70s,
you think Nina Van Horn.
- No, when you think
of models in their 70s.
- Finch, I promise
you when they drop,
your voice will change.
- Nina, you would
be great in the issue
except for one thing.
When you model you become,
how do I say this delicately?
- A pain in the ass.
- Dennis please!
- A huge pain in the ass.
- That's it.
- Come on Jack, I've changed.
- For what's it's
worth, Nina is an icon.
- Dad, she is one of our own.
It would be great
publicity for the magazine.
- Fine. Nina, you're in.
Vicky this is your idea
so you're responsible.
- Thank you. You won't be sorry.
Now you probably heard
stories about how I like to drink
while on a shoot.
- Oh, don't worry. I
don't listen to rumors.
- No, I'm saying I'll need
a blender on the set.
- I've been working on
this poem for two hours
and I got nothing.
- Do you, or do you
have everything?
Look around Finch.
See the world, feel the
world, take the world,
put it on that page.
- Are you high?
- You've gotta think poetically.
Open your mind, dig deep.
What are you passionate about?
- I don't know.
Cats, Britney Spears,
porcelain figurines.
Usual guy stuff.
- No, no, no. Those are things.
I am talking about a truth.
Something in your soul
that just has to get out
like, I don't know,
a girls relationship
with her father.
- You know what's
cool? Nunchucks.
- Let's say the
father is distant.
Yeah, that's good.
And she builds up
a lot of resentment.
- Yeah, and she wanted to
wale on him with the nunchucks.
She's like hey, hey, hey,
whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
- Shush. I am on to something.
- Alright, alright.
Here is something
deep and personal.
When I was young,
my father blamed me
for my grandfathers death.
- Not now. I'm writing.
- I thought it would be fun.
I thought the old
coot could swim.
- This is so great.
My first big project and
it's with Nina Van Horn.
- Sure, it's easy for
you to be excited.
I'm the one who is going
to take all the abuse.
- What are you talking about?
- She's legendary
for treating her
photographers like garbage.
- Good morning.
It's a beautiful day.
The sun is shining.
- Right, like the top of
my head. I get it, I'm bald.
- What? I bought
you a croissant.
- Oh, I know, because
I'm flaky and pretentious.
Well, we're all laughing
at Elliot. Ha, ha, ha.
- This is so cool. I can't
wait to see you model.
- You are so sweet.
- You know, I was
homecoming queen at PS323.
A lot of people said I
should go into modeling.
- Teenagers can be so cruel.
Anyway, I picked out
something for the shoot.
An Armani gown flowing, elegant.
- That would be good,
but we are going to
have all the models
re-create their most
famous poses from the 70s.
You are going to
re-shoot your classic poster
wearing that leopard
print swimsuit.
- Well, I am surprised
that you could pry that away
from the model hall of fame.
- Actually they sold it to
some pervert in Wisconsin.
- Dear sweet Barry.
- Here it is.
- Wow, it's much
smaller than I remember.
- Actually, it's bigger.
Barry stretched out the waist.
Hey, there is my
favorite poem-osapian.
Check it out.
- It's great.
"Dennis, your
insights into the regrets
of a lonely child
are heartbreaking."
Oh my god, he really
responded to my writing.
- Yeah, I couldn't
get through it myself
but hey, it did the trick.
Jack, make room on your fridge.
Somebody got an A.
- Oh, Dennis. That's amazing.
I am so proud of you.
- Really? Thanks.
- I just thought you were
screwing around in college,
but you proved me wrong.
You should be rewarded.
- Can I have health insurance?
- Let's not start that again.
Let me just see what
the fuss is all about.
This is beautiful.
- You see, the
blooming of the crocuses
are an allegory
for a young girls...
- Maya please,
this is Dennis' work.
Let the author
explain what he meant.
- Okey doke.
The crocus petals opening up.
That's your standard
early poem flower crap.
You know what, forget
about what I think.
You are the reader,
what did it mean to you?
- Well, I think it's about
a fathers selfish neglect
of his fragile daughter.
- Oh my god,
that's exactly right.
- Maya please.
Dennis?
- Close.
- You know, Dennis,
you're smarter than
I give you credit for.
I should listen to
you more often.
- I got an idea for
the holiday issue.
Santa's Bustiest Helpers.
Call it Elves with Shelves.
- I'll think about it.
- Nina you are late.
- Nina, again I am
so excited about this.
So, let's get started okay.
- Alright. Let's see the suit.
I wanna make sure
the background works
with the leopard skin.
- Wait, I can't do this.
- Why not?
- Because the fruit looks cold.
- Fruit is supposed to be cold.
Who eats hot fruit?
- I'm not going to eat it.
I am just going to look at it
and I don't want
to look at cold fruit.
It's freaking me out man.
- Nina, we're all freaked
out about the fruit,
but we have to stay strong.
So, can we get back to work?
- Fine.
- Okay.
- Wait.
- What now?
- Lighting is all wrong.
- Let's get something clear.
I'm an artist.
Everyday I take ordinary women
and use composition and color
to transform them into
worshiped goddesses
then I sleep with them.
So, don't tell me
how to light my sets.
- Oh, go sit on your tripod.
- Diva.
- Hack.
- Burnout.
- Big Q-ball.
- Stop. This is my shoot
and I'm in control here.
So, stop screwing around
and get back to work.
- Dennis, I'd like you to
meet Jamie Barenson.
She is the publisher
of The Village Review
and one of the most respected
literary minds in the city.
- It's a pleasure to meet you.
- Likewise. English
huh? Chim-chim-chery.
How would you like a little
crumpet party at my flat?
- Dennis.
- Got it, your cake.
I'll put my fork away.
- Dad, I got the...
Oh my god, Jamie Barenson.
I am such a big fan
of your magazine.
I've actually submitted
poems to you before.
- I am sure you are
a bright original voice
and we will keep
your work on file.
Thank you.
- Hey, that is exactly
what they said in the letter.
Oh.
- Dennis, the reason I am here
is that Jack showed me your poem
and I was very impressed
with your writing.
- In fact, she liked it so much
she is going to publish it.
- Wait. That poem was
going to be published
under the name Dennis Finch?
- Yeah, I don't think
we want to do that.
I mean, poetry is
very personal to me.
It's like religion or
going to the bathroom.
- Look, this is a
great opportunity.
Don't you want to
be in the spotlight?
Don't you want people
who read that poem to say
that Dennis Finch is
a shining new star?
- What the hell, I
did write the thing.
- Go on Dennis.
I'll take you and Jamie
to lunch to celebrate
wherever you want.
- Alright. Medieval Times.
- This isn't fair.
I'm the one who should
be getting published.
- Don't be so bitter.
You sound like that
angry little brat in my poem.
- What's the matter with you?
- I'm having a tough day.
- You know what will
really lift your spirits?
Finch's poem,
it's really touching.
- Give me that.
Ugh, Finch didn't
write this, I did.
It's the best thing
I've ever written
and no one will
ever know it's mine.
- Wow, I am sorry.
Look as a fellow artist,
I understand your pain.
You just have to
believe in your ability
and maintain your dignity.
Hot grapes coming through.
- And then I wrote a poem
about a bear named Fuzzy.
Here is the irony, he wasn't
really fuzzy, or was he?
- Ah Dennis, you're a delight.
- You know, I used to find
Dennis childish and annoying,
but after reading that poem
I realize he's just very witty.
- Hey, did you hear the news?
Thousands of people are about
to see the talent of D. Finch.
- They are going
to watch your cat
drink milk from your mouth?
- Alright, whoever has got
that video, I need it back.
- I can't believe you are
going to let that poem
get published under your name.
- Whoa, hit the brakes
Maya Ange-loser.
You may have strung
a few notions together
but I am the
inspiration. I am a muse.
Dennis, get in here.
- Time for Jack to polish
up his little golden man.
- Good news. Jamie's magazine
is holding a literary reading
tomorrow night in the village
and I've convinced her to
let you recite a piece of work.
- I am so looking forward
to hearing another
piece of your work.
- Another one?
Can't I just read the one
that you are publishing?
- Oh, no.
The purpose of the reading
is to premier a new work.
- Can't you just premier
the old one again?
- Oh, Dennis, that is
exactly the kind of wit
I used to mistake for idiocy.
- Okay, this is my
first big project for Jack
and I'm not going
to let you ruin it.
So, get out there now.
- I'm afraid that's
out of the question.
- Fine. Then let me speak in
a language you'll understand.
- Oh my god.
Is that the Cheryl Tiegs shovel?
- No, it's the
Garden Master 2000
but they assured me
it would kill a model.
- I'm warning you,
I have a hand gun
hidden in my desk drawer.
- Your desk doesn't
have any drawers.
- Alright, you called my bluff.
What do you want?
- Get out there.
- I can't.
- Why not?
You've done this
a thousand times.
- I'm just not convinced
absolutely, 100 percent,
without a doubt
that I'll look good.
- Come on Nina,
you look amazing.
- I don't expect you to
understand how I feel,
but I was once considered
one of the most beautiful
women in the world.
And my image is tied
to that photo in 1978
and that's the image that I
want people to remember.
So no, I'm not doing it.
- I think you are
making a huge mistake
but if that's what you
want, I'll cover for you.
- Just don't say I was scared.
- Well I could
just tell everyone
you refuse to take the picture
because you are a
volatile, selfish, raving bitch.
- I'd really appreciate that.
- Hey pretty eyes.
I know I was kind
of a jerk before
so I got you a little gift.
It's my way of saying
sorry and thank you.
- "To Jack. Best
Wishes, Jimmy Carter."
- Yeah, that's a brand name.
So, now that I've given you
my special pen of friendship,
I need a favor.
I need you to write me a poem.
- Forget it.
- I'll be humiliated.
- No.
- I have one month to live.
- No!
- I'm 1/16th Cherokee,
you owe it to my people.
- Forget it Finch.
You're on your own.
- No, I'm not on my own.
I'm not going to get in
front of a bunch of people
and read some crappy poem.
- You have to read it in public?
- Yeah, and if
you don't write it,
I'll take you down with me
because you helped me cheat.
And you know what they
call people who cheat?
They call them cheaters, Maya.
You're a cheater,
cheater, cheater.
Plus, you have syphilis.
- What?
- Yeah, I had to
dress it up a little bit
because cheater wasn't
hitting you hard enough.
- Alright Finch, you got me.
I'll write you another poem.
- You will?
Yeah, you will.
That's right you will,
and it better have
that Finch-ian flair.
- Oh, it will.
- Cheryl, you look great.
- Oh, thanks babe.
- We'll be ready for
you in a minute okay?
- Okay sweetie.
- Thank you for coming
on such short notice.
- Oh, its my
pleasure, it's fine.
Holy crap, this
melon is on fire.
- I heard Cheryl Tiegs was here.
- You backed out,
we had no choice.
- Good to see you Cheryl.
Your feet look enormous,
did your collagen drop?
- Nina Van Horn, is it you?
Lay down and throw
up so I can be sure.
- Okay Cheryl. Why
don't you slip off the robe
and I'll shoot you in
that famous pink bikini.
- No.
- Why not?
- I'm posing. Beat it Tiegs.
- What's going on around here?
- I'm sorry but Nina was
our first choice for the cover.
- Great, so I slept
with Elliot for nothing.
- Okay, let's get going.
- I knew getting Cheryl
Tiegs would do the trick.
- Yes, good work.
- Okay, Nina Van Horn is back.
So, start shooting you
hunched-backed little camera monkey.
- Oh shut up you shallow-famed,
gobbling ego maniac.
- Fraud.
- Bitch.
- God it's good to be back.
- You look great.
- Hey. This is your big night.
You excited?
- Well, I'd be
lying if I didn't say
I was a little disappointed
with the quality
of the boo-tay.
- Dennis.
Yeah, I hear you.
- Oh, this is gonna be good.
- What? What's going on?
- I'm taking Finch down.
Usually I take the high road
but tonight it's payback time.
I'm giving him the
worst poem ever written.
- Oh, that sticker you wrote
three years ago about acid rain?
- No, that's a beautiful
poem I am very proud of.
- As well you should be.
- There you are, I
was getting worried.
- Oh, I'm sorry. I wanted
it to be just perfect.
I guess you're gonna
have to read it cold.
- No problem. I'll dress it
up with a little dramatic flair.
A move I call the Finch.
If that's too intense
I can bring it down.
- Ladies and gentlemen, I
think we're about to begin.
- Oh, good luck Finch. I
can't wait to hear you read this.
- Really, because I kinda
thought you were ticked off at me.
- Yeah, it's been kind of
tough but this is your night,
and what kind of
friend would I be
if I didn't let you have it.
- Thanks.
- Ladies and gentlemen, I
give you Dennis Quimby Finch.
- The Ice Pelican.
Wait, I can't do this.
You know, I usually
do the wrong thing
and tonight for once I'm
gonna take the high road.
I didn't write this poem.
- Yes you did. Yes you did.
- No I didn't. My friend Maya
Gallo wrote every single word,
and I think it's fitting
that she comes up here
and reads it for you.
- Oh no, no, no,
not fitting, not fitting.
- Come here. She's
shy, let's get her up here.
Maya Gallo, come one.
Let's go you
egg-head. Loosen up.
- Oh no, I don't want
to. I don't want to.
- You deserve it.
- The Ice Pelican.
- By Maya Gallo.
- Slap it on the bing bong.
Lick it like a ding dong.
Nunchucks on the fly.
Horny beef on rye.
Watch my lizard cry.
Hitler.
- Come on now.
Maya. Good stuff Maya.
She stole the bing
bong thing from me.
That was great. Whoo.
♪ Life keeps
bringing me back to you
♪ Keeps bringing me home
♪ It don't matter
what I wanna do
♪ It's got a mind of its own
♪ Life keeps bringing
me back to you ♪