Nip/Tuck (2003–2010): Season 2, Episode 1 - Erica Noughton - full transcript
Julia McNamara gets a surprise visit from her glamorous mother, successful child psychology author Dr. Erica Noughton, who has various reasons to want plastic surgery and insists that Sean should operate her; that even worsens his worries about an unsteady hand, and the specialist tells him it's a fashionable psychosomatic condition without a medical cure. Christian wrestles with his instincts- while resenting Gina Russo emotionally blackmailing him with her baby, he is determined to become a good father, but swears to keep his mundane (sex-)life, so he looks for a nanny and hires Linda, the candidate with the sexiest 'fringe-benefits', but finds she's neglecting the child... Meanwhile the doctors operate on Libby Zucker, whose face is so horrible she'll need at least five major, risky operations and is most uncertain in her 'steady' relationship with attractive Chad Myers who she knows to have affairs.
Tell me what you don't like about yourself.
You know what? Absolutely nothing.
Business is booming,
I love my wife and she loves me.
The kids are healthy. It's exactly how
I always pictured today feeling.
Is that why you were checking
for jowl droopage in Mr. Toasty?
Face it. There is nothing that's gonna
stop your body...
from screaming, "I'm 40"
from the highest rooftop.
Wait. Actually, there is something.
Happy birthday. Open it.
- BOTOX.
- I don't need this.
Yeah, you do. I've been shooting
my forehead full of it for months.
Face it, Sean,
we're not college kids anymore.
Your hairline's up and your ass is down.
I'll be sure to put that on your
40th birthday card in a couple of weeks.
We're plastic surgeons.
The literal faces of this business.
Looking our age is as bad
as a stained carpet in the waiting room.
- Have you seen a fat personal trainer?
- But we don't look our age, Christian.
With advances in nutrition and exercise,
40 is the new 30.
You sell youth for a living, Dr. McNamara.
So stop being such a hypocrite,
and tilt your head back.
- Frown.
- Come on.
Being as smooth as a baby's butt is going
to delay your inevitable midlife crisis.
That was last year, remember?
Thanks, Christian. Really.
But I plan on spending my 40s
aging gracefully...
and exploring what's inside.
Let's go.
Julia's gonna kill you if you bring me late
to my own surprise birthday party.
- You know about that?
- When you're married almost 20 years...
nothing is a surprise anymore.
Can you at least try to look surprised,
for her?
Yet another reason not to do the BOTOX.
Surprise!
Great party.
How'd you pull this thing off
without me finding out?
- Come on. You knew.
- I was totally in the dark.
Got any other birthday surprises for me?
My mother's coming.
Surprise.
I tried to stop her, but she insisted.
Apparently, I distance her from the family
because I see her as a threat.
I'm threatened by her.
And I've only seen her
hawking her books on Charlie Rose.
You'll just have to come to terms
with the fact...
that your mother is a force of nature.
Remember at your wedding?
She looked hot for a broad in her 40s.
And as they say,
the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
Nice save.
I have no idea why she's coming,
or how long she's staying...
because she's a raging narcissist...
and so just assumes we'll all adjust
to her schedule.
Honey, it's okay.
You're the one she drives crazy, not me.
So I'll run interference.
Of course, it's not the surprise
I was hoping for.
We have an emergency.
What now?
- I need you to nurse.
- I'm sorry.
My tits are ripe, this blouse is silk.
Stains are forever.
- I need you to suck it up.
- That's disgusting.
Quit being such a drama queen.
It tastes just like sugar water. See?
- You're sick.
- No, Christian.
I am a frazzled working mother
who forgot her breast pump.
Look, I've been very clear with you.
There will be no suckage
of any kind anymore.
Our relationship from now on
is strictly parental.
Neither you nor fatherhood
is holding me hostage.
In other words, milk them yourself, Heidi.
I am not a cow, Christian.
They're too tender to manhandle.
Jesus, your nipples are the size
of pie plates.
If my milk ducts get swollen,
I'll pass any infection off to Wilber.
- I'm not swallowing.
- Why not? I do.
- Want some milk with your cake?
- No, thanks.
- Nervous, buddy?
- No, it's more like old age.
Tell me what you didn't like
about yourself.
It was an accident.
How many surgeries have you had,
Ms. Zucker?
Two. There was an infection.
That's how she developed the scarring.
- I'm sorry, Mr...
- Chad. Chad Myers.
And you and Ms...
Mrs. Zucker are married?
- No, I'm gay.
- And I'm a big fag hag.
No, we're best friends since we were 17.
- When did the accident happen?
- Nine months ago.
On my 34th birthday.
The party was kickass.
I was...
blown away. Literally.
Ms. Zucker...
To my knowledge, a loaded. 45
is not a traditional party favor.
She kept one in her purse for security.
Why did you pull the gun out?
Like she said, we were celebrating
her birthday in Fort Lauderdale.
We rented a Hummer limo,
went out clubbing and got really wasted.
Yeah, we kept drinking
and tried to think of...
just two people who'd made it past 30.
You know,
who'd gotten their dream later in life.
And all we could come up with was...
Nelson Mandela and Danny Aiello.
I was like, "It's all downhill from here,
we might as well just kill ourselves. "
And I pulled out my gun, as a joke.
I laughed, told her to put it away.
I went over to the minibar,
and that's when it accidentally went off.
Ta-da.
Ms. Zucker, I'm gonna be blunt with you.
There's no quick fix.
You're looking at
five reconstructive surgeries, maybe more.
And what's my alternative?
Burkas are so 2003.
- There's no guarantee...
- I know that, okay? I know.
I just want little kids
to stop looking at me and crying.
Sorry to interrupt.
Julia needs you to call her at home.
Some kind of emergency with her mother.
I want a face-lift.
What happened to, "Women should wear
their wrinkles like a badge of honor"?
That worked, when I was naive...
and firm enough to shove my braless tits...
in the faces
of all those patriarchal Freudians.
Beauty is power, Julia.
Both tend to diminish after 40.
Thank God by that time
I'd already been chairing...
the Psych department for five years.
I remember. You were never home.
It's just a good thing
I didn't sacrifice my career...
so my daughter could have one.
Come on, you can't be serious, Erica.
You look great.
- This is about Daddy, isn't it?
- This has nothing to do with your daddy.
I have a new book coming out.
I can't use the same picture
from my last two jacket covers.
Be honest, Mother.
He had a midlife crisis,
ran off with a younger woman...
- and now you wanna mutilate yourself.
- Age is what mutilates, Julia.
You'll find that out soon enough.
If you feel that strongly,
I'll be happy to refer you to Mark Rosen.
- No, Sean, you. I want you to do it.
- You want me to give you a face-lift?
You don't get your son-in-law
to perform surgery on you, Mother.
I want the best. I'm not above
using my connections to get him.
I don't get it, Erica.
It's not like your literary worth
has ever been predicated on looks.
You're one of the most respected
child psychologists in the country.
Respected doesn't sell books.
Not anymore.
Sex does.
You see this photo?
I was 41 here.
The photographer who took it
had a raging erection the entire session.
Jesus.
The point is, I was desired.
Can you do that, Sean?
Make me look like I'm in my prime?
Make me desirable again?
Been thinking about that game
Libby Zucker was playing...
before she shot herself.
Can you think of anyone whose life
improved dramatically after 40?
- Us.
- Be serious, Christian.
We're on a plateau. A high plateau,
I'll give you that. But still...
I am serious, Sean.
The climb has just begun.
With Bobolit out of the picture,
we're primed to become...
the premier plastic surgery destination
in the southern US.
The world is our oyster...
and we're gonna suck that bitch down
with a champagne chaser.
And you're gonna do all that
with a baby in tow?
- Your priorities are about to change.
- No, they're not.
Welcome to the world of
pediatrician appointments, school plays...
and if you ever decide to get married
and inherit some in-laws...
you have to start parenting them, too.
You can look like a 30-year-old
as long as you want.
- You just can't live like one.
- Bullshit, Sean.
I plan on banging twice as many
mamazons this decade...
in far more depraved and debauched ways.
You think Gina will be okay with that?
I didn't hand Gina my balls
when I agreed to raise Wilber.
I'll hire a nanny to pick up the slack.
Ever think she wishes she died?
Actually, I think she wishes...
that she'd looked normal enough
that no one ever asked her that question.
15-blade.
Is there something wrong?
The trajectory of devastation is odd.
Suction.
She was waving a gun
around drunk.
She's lucky her brains didn't
end up on the reversible painting...
like her jawline.
The what?
The yips.
The yips? Nothing on the scan?
No neurological disorders.
No Parkinson's. No Huntington's.
Other than being the sound
an unruly puppy makes...
what exactly is a yip?
Picture a beautiful afternoon
on the golf course.
Your iron shot lands on
the seventh hole, a foot from the cup...
and you are one sweet tap
from carding a birdie.
And then just as your putter
makes contact with the ball...
a little tic interrupts your perfect stroke...
and your ball rolls right past the cup.
From that moment on,
you cannot get that ball in the cup...
for love or money.
That's the yips.
This isn't a game for me. This is serious.
I'm being very serious.
My brother-in-law had a big future
in the golf circuit.
His yips cost him his career.
I've diagnosed about a dozen people
with the yips in the last year...
and every one of them,
dentists, a concert pianist...
every one of them has been
at the top of his game.
That, unfortunately,
is the significant aspect of the profile.
So what are you saying?
That this is some kind of self-sabotage?
I don't know. It's not a medical condition.
It's purely psychological.
Are you experiencing anxiety
over expectations?
Well, I don't know. I'm not a shrink.
But what would seem obvious,
even to me...
is that when something keeps showing up,
it's begging for attention.
Now, I can't tell you what that thing is,
because it's coming from inside you.
I came here to dispel my worries,
or at least have some light shed on them.
Believe me, Sean,
I wish had found something...
I could operate on or resolve
with medication. It just isn't there.
- What happened to your brother-in-law?
- He went the Jack Daniel's route.
I do feel I should advise you, Sean,
as a physician and a friend.
It would be highly unethical to operate
until you've got a handle on this.
A slip of the hand, you would really
have something to worry about.
Ms. Appleton,
according to your resume...
you've been employed as a nanny
for the last three years.
Right. I worked for a family
that lived on Palm Island...
until they moved to New York.
And before that,
you were a cheerleader at USF?
Yeah.
What about infant CPR?
Is your certification up-to-date?
- Of course.
- Impressive.
I never thought I'd find someone
who fulfilled my nanny requirements...
as well as you do, Ms. Appleton.
- You can call me Kelly.
- I think we should keep it formal for now.
Whatever you like, Daddy.
Don't call me that.
How about, "Whatever you like, Dr. Troy"?
Sounds good.
Your mother-in-law is on line 1.
She's adamant about scheduling her lift.
- What's going on?
- Nothing. Just doing a little inventory.
Absolut. Straight up.
Can you believe the shit
that passes for music these days?
Maybe you should hang out here
on Thursdays. It's oldies night.
Thank God.
Thank you.
What are you doing?
Exhibiting a feat
of modern technological daring...
by programming my phone number
into your cell.
Thus proving that I'm a modern man
of my times.
Christian Troy.
Plastic surgeon.
Nicole Watts. Orthopedics resident.
Can I buy you a drink?
Smile.
Sorry, but no thanks.
Is there spinach, sweetheart?
No. Your veneers are great.
And there's not a wrinkle
on that noble brow.
A lack of worry, or BOTOX?
Hmm.
I wonder.
So you're a bitter lipstick lesbian.
I'm sorry that I took up your time.
Actually, Christian, I love dick.
I just don't dig 40-year-old dick.
That's perfect, because mine's 35.
Why don't we go somewhere
dark and private...
and you can count the rings
around my trunk?
Look. You seem cool.
But I have a real daddy,
and I don't need another one.
Wanna dance?
Sure.
You had no right to fire my nanny.
I don't want my child around
cheap, common whores.
He's around you all the time.
Correction. You're an expensive whore.
That'll cost you a pair of Gucci
baby booties for your son, asshole.
Oh, correction. The adorable baby
I let you pretend is your son.
What does that mean?
What that means...
is that I make the rules,
because I am the legal parent.
- Rule number one: Don't screw the nanny.
- I didn't.
Then what's this?
It just kills you that I screw other women,
doesn't it, Gina?
She was fantastic, by the way.
A real spinner.
Say goodbye to your daddy, Wilber.
- You won't see him for a while.
- I'll see him on Friday...
when you go to your Sexaholics meeting.
Our standing father-son date.
It's cancelled, sociopath,
until you can learn to acknowledge...
- Stop telling me what to do!
- Listen to me, slick dick!
I left Wilber with you,
not with some stranger.
You can't have it all.
You cannot be a kid and have a kid.
Now look what you've done, asshole.
Friday at 7:00.
And I'm rehiring my nanny!
What do you mean,
Christian's going to do it?
I don't want him. I want you.
Sorry, Erica.
If anything went wrong,
I wouldn't have the emotional objectivity...
- to trust my ability to make decisions.
- I had no idea you felt that strongly.
- Perhaps you should talk to someone.
- I'm not doing your face-lift...
because I have a responsibility to you,
to Julia.
Your safety is not something
I'm willing to risk.
Why? Do you have a subconscious desire
to harm me?
I assure you, any desire I have to harm you
is totally conscious.
Look, Christian is one of the best.
Trust me.
He's got great hands.
So, Erica, tell me what you don't like
about yourself.
My neck...
my eyes...
my stupidity.
Why did I ever let you go?
I bet you say that to all the boys
you slept with at your daughter's wedding.
- Ancient history.
- Ancient. Yes.
Why not throw in "dead and buried. "
You know I didn't mean anything by that.
- You look wonderful.
- No, you look wonderful, you bastard.
A handsome young prince turned into...
an even more handsome
young plastic surgeon.
I turned into an old lady
who needs a face-lift.
You must think I'm pathetic.
Actually, I still think you're a knockout.
You don't need a face-lift, Erica.
Don't bullshit a bullshitter.
When a hunky guy at the airport
asks you directions...
not because he's trying to pick you up...
but because he really wants
those directions...
you've fallen off the radar,
sexually speaking.
It happens to everybody.
I got shot down last night by a 25-year-old.
Don't patronize me.
It's a true story.
Somehow I've become that old guy
on my driver's license.
The one I've been hiding myself from...
until it's time to renew...
and then there is some even older guy
next to my name...
pretending to be me.
How can you say that? You're still a kid.
An incredibly beautiful kid.
Feel that?
Yes.
It's the fountain of youth.
All I need is for you to turn it on.
You're healing nicely.
It looks so great, Lib.
Can I see?
Well, I look hot.
Actually, I thought there was going to be
more progress.
Lib, come on.
Dr. McNamara fully explained
this first procedure was architectural.
It's just the beginning.
I know Dr. McNamara
needs some private exam time...
so I'll see you tomorrow morning
before I go to work, okay?
I thought we were
watching Glitter tonight.
- I thought I told you, I have a dinner.
- With who?
- A friend.
- I'm your friend.
- And I need you here tonight, Chad.
- I need a break, okay?
One night away from the tubes and...
Look, I'll see you tomorrow.
Thanks, Doctor.
- You okay?
- He's dating someone again. I know it.
And this is a bad thing?
No. Not at all.
They never last. But we do.
Ms. Zucker...
I recommend that we move you
to Fairmont Convalescent Center...
- at the end of the week.
- A nursing home?
A physical and emotional recovery center.
If you think I need to be
on a suicide watch, forget it.
It takes self-esteem and courage
to pull a trigger.
If I couldn't do it the first time,
what makes you think I could do it now?
I wasn't supposed to be here...
with pus draining down my throat,
looking like a monster.
Neither was Chad.
The plan was for us to meet upstairs
at the eternal tea dance in the clouds.
That was the plan.
We went out for my birthday,
but it wasn't fun anymore.
Our jobs sucked.
Nobody offered to buy us drinks.
So we thought...
why not go out in a blaze of glory.
1, 2...
But I couldn't do it.
I loved him too much.
...3.
When such a big thing
was taken from you...
- did you ever wish...
- I hadn't lived?
No.
It took almost dying
to realize that aging isn't a curse.
It's a privilege.
You have to set aside an hour four times
a week if you want to see results.
I'm happy to just maintain.
Apparently.
We managed to get through
the entire hour...
without bludgeoning each other
with the free weights.
Let's not wreck it now.
You're right. It's fun.
But, darling, stop kidding yourself.
Once you hit 40, it's war.
You against gravity.
Forty? Wow!
Your troops must have
incredible battle fatigue.
When I consulted with Christian
about my lift...
he told me I had the body of a 40-year-old.
He seemed to think my body
was as good as yours.
Please, Mother.
He was just trying to make you feel better.
He'd already taken care of that.
You slept with him?
We're both single, consenting adults.
Should I have asked permission?
Excuse me,
have I broken some unholy law?
"Thou shalt not sleep with thy
son-in-law's partner"?
Yes, when he's about to operate
on your face.
Why are you so upset?
Because having a face-lift...
is so totally indulgent.
You're appealing enough to seduce
a man 20 years younger than you.
What more do you want?
Look at me, Julia.
My God, what are you doing?
You can exercise years off your body,
and I have. See?
But crunches can't tighten the skin
under your chin.
I want to feel the way he made me feel
for more than just an hour.
I want someone to look at the entire me
with desire.
But he didn't look at me.
He didn't open his eyes.
Not once.
To get through it,
he had to fantasize about someone else.
That kid never sleeps
for longer than 15 minutes.
He does for me.
Seriously? You can get him to sleep?
I know how to wear all my boys out.
- Wanna see my trick?
- Sure.
What's she doing, boy? Come here.
You're okay. It's okay.
What's the matter, buddy? Here.
Come on. Put this in.
- Cough syrup? What's that for?
- I call this a binkatini.
It'll put him out for hours.
- Open up, baby boy.
- Are you kidding me?
- You've been poisoning my kid with this?
- Chill out.
It's just over-the-counter stuff.
Get out.
- What the hell?
- I said get out, you incompetent bitch.
Don't you start that "baby comes first"
shit with me, Dr. Troy.
If you wanted a real nanny,
you would've hired one...
that didn't deep throat Daddy
during the job interview.
It's okay.
It's not funny, Sean.
I'm sorry, but the picture
of those two vain little peas...
in their self-absorbed pods
pumping away over the desk...
- It's hilarious if you think about it.
- I don't want to think about it.
Come on. Why are you taking this
so personally?
My own mother flashed me at the gym...
and then she insisted
she had a better body than me.
She doesn't.
If she bothers you so much...
let's have Christian do her lift
and send her packing.
She says there's a conflict of interest now,
because she screwed him.
She's insisting again that you do it.
Would you?
Then we never have to buy her
another Christmas present...
for as long as we live.
Sure.
You're nothing like her, you know.
Our kids are so lucky.
Turning 40 agrees with you.
You've become positively unflappable.
Hello?
Come here.
He's been like this for hours.
I did my faces, my "Tickle Me Elmo" voice.
Nothing calmed him down.
He doesn't feel feverish.
Why are you doing that?
I already burped him.
Apparently not to completion.
You and me playing mom and pop.
It's quite a picture, huh?
Why didn't you call Gina?
And let her know
that I'm an incompetent dad? No way.
- She'd use that against me.
- Well, then read Doctor Spock.
Sean and I can't keep cleaning up
your messes.
- Why are you being such a bitch?
- You slept with my mother.
Once.
- At your wedding.
- Also at my wedding?
So, I see she offered up full disclosure.
- Okay, Christian, thank you.
- For what?
For releasing me completely
from any residual emotional attachment...
that I might have had towards you.
I thought we decided
we weren't going there again.
But you can't keep up your end
of the bargain, can you?
My mother and I bear more than
a passing resemblance to each other.
When you were screwing her,
with your eyes closed...
and everything was soft focus...
who did you pretend you were with?
Stop hurting me
because you can't have me, Christian.
You turn 40 next week.
For everybody's sake, grow up.
This must be weird for you.
It is. She looks
a little too much like Julia.
Though I guess
that didn't bother you.
I needed to feel more May
than September for a change.
More like August, October.
You ready to turn back time?
Scalpel.
Thank you, Nurse.
You all right?
Liz is right. This must be weird
for you. Like cutting into your wife's face.
I get it. I'll do it. You supervise.
Be kind.
I think I work better on women
I've screwed.
Once you've seen a woman's come face,
you've seen her soul.
That was eerie what we just did in there,
wasn't it?
Men age and society says
we've become more rugged...
women age and they just become...
old.
Sad.
It is sad, isn't it?
To be 40 and know you've peaked.
Jesus, Sean.
We've been through this.
Accentuate the positive for a change.
I have a yip.
A what?
A spasm. A psychological disorder.
- It's why I couldn't do Erica's lift today.
- When did this first happen?
I could barely get through
the Zucker surgery.
You operated on a patient knowing
this could affect your performance?
What was I supposed to do?
You can do a garden-variety lift,
congratulations...
but you don't have
the skill or experience...
to do complicated microsurgery.
What kind of surgical destination for
the southern US are we supposed to be...
when one of us is an invalid?
If I can't operate, we can't operate.
From Vicodin to morphine. I'm stoked.
How does it work?
When you feel discomfort,
you push this little button...
and the medication instantly disperses
into your bloodstream.
Can you overdose on it?
No. The system has safeguards.
Ms. Zucker, I'm working late tonight.
And when I'm off...
I can help transport you to
the medical facility if your friend doesn't...
Hey, beautiful.
I'll be here for an hour,
if you need me, okay?
Thanks.
So, we all packed and ready to go?
Almost.
Okay.
- Where were you?
- I was stuck in traffic.
- It was terrible.
- Have some dignity. Stop lying.
- Okay. I was with a friend.
- You mean a boyfriend.
- You were afraid to tell me.
- Because you make me take sides...
- and I'm sick of it.
- Actually, it's me you're sick of, right?
And my disgusting, medicinal,
hospital smells and my needs.
- When you're like this, yes.
- It's not going to last.
I'm in love with him.
His name is Jesse, and he loves me, too.
- Let me guess. Massage therapist?
- An architect.
He doesn't do drugs, he's not in A. A.,
he's a together person, Lib.
He wants me to move in with him.
I wanna talk about it with you first.
I guess there goes the baby idea.
I love you,
but not the way you want, okay?
I have never loved you that way,
and I never will.
There. After 20 years, I've finally said it.
You're mean.
You're still my best friend. I will help you.
I just can't keep doing this, Lib.
What happened to us,
it taught me so much, Libby.
I realized there's so much to live for.
There's so much of life
I've been squandering and now...
I have a chance to be whole.
It's a real chance, and I'm going to take it.
What happens when your hair turns gray?
And you get fat and ugly?
I'm the only one who's going to love you.
He won't.
He said he wants to grow old with me.
Someone finally said that to me.
Well, I can't let that happen, Chad.
I love you too much to let you grow old.
"As long as I'm living
My baby you'll be"
Wanna help Daddy celebrate his birthday?
Let's make a wish.
Please, let me be
a good father.
You know what? Absolutely nothing.
Business is booming,
I love my wife and she loves me.
The kids are healthy. It's exactly how
I always pictured today feeling.
Is that why you were checking
for jowl droopage in Mr. Toasty?
Face it. There is nothing that's gonna
stop your body...
from screaming, "I'm 40"
from the highest rooftop.
Wait. Actually, there is something.
Happy birthday. Open it.
- BOTOX.
- I don't need this.
Yeah, you do. I've been shooting
my forehead full of it for months.
Face it, Sean,
we're not college kids anymore.
Your hairline's up and your ass is down.
I'll be sure to put that on your
40th birthday card in a couple of weeks.
We're plastic surgeons.
The literal faces of this business.
Looking our age is as bad
as a stained carpet in the waiting room.
- Have you seen a fat personal trainer?
- But we don't look our age, Christian.
With advances in nutrition and exercise,
40 is the new 30.
You sell youth for a living, Dr. McNamara.
So stop being such a hypocrite,
and tilt your head back.
- Frown.
- Come on.
Being as smooth as a baby's butt is going
to delay your inevitable midlife crisis.
That was last year, remember?
Thanks, Christian. Really.
But I plan on spending my 40s
aging gracefully...
and exploring what's inside.
Let's go.
Julia's gonna kill you if you bring me late
to my own surprise birthday party.
- You know about that?
- When you're married almost 20 years...
nothing is a surprise anymore.
Can you at least try to look surprised,
for her?
Yet another reason not to do the BOTOX.
Surprise!
Great party.
How'd you pull this thing off
without me finding out?
- Come on. You knew.
- I was totally in the dark.
Got any other birthday surprises for me?
My mother's coming.
Surprise.
I tried to stop her, but she insisted.
Apparently, I distance her from the family
because I see her as a threat.
I'm threatened by her.
And I've only seen her
hawking her books on Charlie Rose.
You'll just have to come to terms
with the fact...
that your mother is a force of nature.
Remember at your wedding?
She looked hot for a broad in her 40s.
And as they say,
the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
Nice save.
I have no idea why she's coming,
or how long she's staying...
because she's a raging narcissist...
and so just assumes we'll all adjust
to her schedule.
Honey, it's okay.
You're the one she drives crazy, not me.
So I'll run interference.
Of course, it's not the surprise
I was hoping for.
We have an emergency.
What now?
- I need you to nurse.
- I'm sorry.
My tits are ripe, this blouse is silk.
Stains are forever.
- I need you to suck it up.
- That's disgusting.
Quit being such a drama queen.
It tastes just like sugar water. See?
- You're sick.
- No, Christian.
I am a frazzled working mother
who forgot her breast pump.
Look, I've been very clear with you.
There will be no suckage
of any kind anymore.
Our relationship from now on
is strictly parental.
Neither you nor fatherhood
is holding me hostage.
In other words, milk them yourself, Heidi.
I am not a cow, Christian.
They're too tender to manhandle.
Jesus, your nipples are the size
of pie plates.
If my milk ducts get swollen,
I'll pass any infection off to Wilber.
- I'm not swallowing.
- Why not? I do.
- Want some milk with your cake?
- No, thanks.
- Nervous, buddy?
- No, it's more like old age.
Tell me what you didn't like
about yourself.
It was an accident.
How many surgeries have you had,
Ms. Zucker?
Two. There was an infection.
That's how she developed the scarring.
- I'm sorry, Mr...
- Chad. Chad Myers.
And you and Ms...
Mrs. Zucker are married?
- No, I'm gay.
- And I'm a big fag hag.
No, we're best friends since we were 17.
- When did the accident happen?
- Nine months ago.
On my 34th birthday.
The party was kickass.
I was...
blown away. Literally.
Ms. Zucker...
To my knowledge, a loaded. 45
is not a traditional party favor.
She kept one in her purse for security.
Why did you pull the gun out?
Like she said, we were celebrating
her birthday in Fort Lauderdale.
We rented a Hummer limo,
went out clubbing and got really wasted.
Yeah, we kept drinking
and tried to think of...
just two people who'd made it past 30.
You know,
who'd gotten their dream later in life.
And all we could come up with was...
Nelson Mandela and Danny Aiello.
I was like, "It's all downhill from here,
we might as well just kill ourselves. "
And I pulled out my gun, as a joke.
I laughed, told her to put it away.
I went over to the minibar,
and that's when it accidentally went off.
Ta-da.
Ms. Zucker, I'm gonna be blunt with you.
There's no quick fix.
You're looking at
five reconstructive surgeries, maybe more.
And what's my alternative?
Burkas are so 2003.
- There's no guarantee...
- I know that, okay? I know.
I just want little kids
to stop looking at me and crying.
Sorry to interrupt.
Julia needs you to call her at home.
Some kind of emergency with her mother.
I want a face-lift.
What happened to, "Women should wear
their wrinkles like a badge of honor"?
That worked, when I was naive...
and firm enough to shove my braless tits...
in the faces
of all those patriarchal Freudians.
Beauty is power, Julia.
Both tend to diminish after 40.
Thank God by that time
I'd already been chairing...
the Psych department for five years.
I remember. You were never home.
It's just a good thing
I didn't sacrifice my career...
so my daughter could have one.
Come on, you can't be serious, Erica.
You look great.
- This is about Daddy, isn't it?
- This has nothing to do with your daddy.
I have a new book coming out.
I can't use the same picture
from my last two jacket covers.
Be honest, Mother.
He had a midlife crisis,
ran off with a younger woman...
- and now you wanna mutilate yourself.
- Age is what mutilates, Julia.
You'll find that out soon enough.
If you feel that strongly,
I'll be happy to refer you to Mark Rosen.
- No, Sean, you. I want you to do it.
- You want me to give you a face-lift?
You don't get your son-in-law
to perform surgery on you, Mother.
I want the best. I'm not above
using my connections to get him.
I don't get it, Erica.
It's not like your literary worth
has ever been predicated on looks.
You're one of the most respected
child psychologists in the country.
Respected doesn't sell books.
Not anymore.
Sex does.
You see this photo?
I was 41 here.
The photographer who took it
had a raging erection the entire session.
Jesus.
The point is, I was desired.
Can you do that, Sean?
Make me look like I'm in my prime?
Make me desirable again?
Been thinking about that game
Libby Zucker was playing...
before she shot herself.
Can you think of anyone whose life
improved dramatically after 40?
- Us.
- Be serious, Christian.
We're on a plateau. A high plateau,
I'll give you that. But still...
I am serious, Sean.
The climb has just begun.
With Bobolit out of the picture,
we're primed to become...
the premier plastic surgery destination
in the southern US.
The world is our oyster...
and we're gonna suck that bitch down
with a champagne chaser.
And you're gonna do all that
with a baby in tow?
- Your priorities are about to change.
- No, they're not.
Welcome to the world of
pediatrician appointments, school plays...
and if you ever decide to get married
and inherit some in-laws...
you have to start parenting them, too.
You can look like a 30-year-old
as long as you want.
- You just can't live like one.
- Bullshit, Sean.
I plan on banging twice as many
mamazons this decade...
in far more depraved and debauched ways.
You think Gina will be okay with that?
I didn't hand Gina my balls
when I agreed to raise Wilber.
I'll hire a nanny to pick up the slack.
Ever think she wishes she died?
Actually, I think she wishes...
that she'd looked normal enough
that no one ever asked her that question.
15-blade.
Is there something wrong?
The trajectory of devastation is odd.
Suction.
She was waving a gun
around drunk.
She's lucky her brains didn't
end up on the reversible painting...
like her jawline.
The what?
The yips.
The yips? Nothing on the scan?
No neurological disorders.
No Parkinson's. No Huntington's.
Other than being the sound
an unruly puppy makes...
what exactly is a yip?
Picture a beautiful afternoon
on the golf course.
Your iron shot lands on
the seventh hole, a foot from the cup...
and you are one sweet tap
from carding a birdie.
And then just as your putter
makes contact with the ball...
a little tic interrupts your perfect stroke...
and your ball rolls right past the cup.
From that moment on,
you cannot get that ball in the cup...
for love or money.
That's the yips.
This isn't a game for me. This is serious.
I'm being very serious.
My brother-in-law had a big future
in the golf circuit.
His yips cost him his career.
I've diagnosed about a dozen people
with the yips in the last year...
and every one of them,
dentists, a concert pianist...
every one of them has been
at the top of his game.
That, unfortunately,
is the significant aspect of the profile.
So what are you saying?
That this is some kind of self-sabotage?
I don't know. It's not a medical condition.
It's purely psychological.
Are you experiencing anxiety
over expectations?
Well, I don't know. I'm not a shrink.
But what would seem obvious,
even to me...
is that when something keeps showing up,
it's begging for attention.
Now, I can't tell you what that thing is,
because it's coming from inside you.
I came here to dispel my worries,
or at least have some light shed on them.
Believe me, Sean,
I wish had found something...
I could operate on or resolve
with medication. It just isn't there.
- What happened to your brother-in-law?
- He went the Jack Daniel's route.
I do feel I should advise you, Sean,
as a physician and a friend.
It would be highly unethical to operate
until you've got a handle on this.
A slip of the hand, you would really
have something to worry about.
Ms. Appleton,
according to your resume...
you've been employed as a nanny
for the last three years.
Right. I worked for a family
that lived on Palm Island...
until they moved to New York.
And before that,
you were a cheerleader at USF?
Yeah.
What about infant CPR?
Is your certification up-to-date?
- Of course.
- Impressive.
I never thought I'd find someone
who fulfilled my nanny requirements...
as well as you do, Ms. Appleton.
- You can call me Kelly.
- I think we should keep it formal for now.
Whatever you like, Daddy.
Don't call me that.
How about, "Whatever you like, Dr. Troy"?
Sounds good.
Your mother-in-law is on line 1.
She's adamant about scheduling her lift.
- What's going on?
- Nothing. Just doing a little inventory.
Absolut. Straight up.
Can you believe the shit
that passes for music these days?
Maybe you should hang out here
on Thursdays. It's oldies night.
Thank God.
Thank you.
What are you doing?
Exhibiting a feat
of modern technological daring...
by programming my phone number
into your cell.
Thus proving that I'm a modern man
of my times.
Christian Troy.
Plastic surgeon.
Nicole Watts. Orthopedics resident.
Can I buy you a drink?
Smile.
Sorry, but no thanks.
Is there spinach, sweetheart?
No. Your veneers are great.
And there's not a wrinkle
on that noble brow.
A lack of worry, or BOTOX?
Hmm.
I wonder.
So you're a bitter lipstick lesbian.
I'm sorry that I took up your time.
Actually, Christian, I love dick.
I just don't dig 40-year-old dick.
That's perfect, because mine's 35.
Why don't we go somewhere
dark and private...
and you can count the rings
around my trunk?
Look. You seem cool.
But I have a real daddy,
and I don't need another one.
Wanna dance?
Sure.
You had no right to fire my nanny.
I don't want my child around
cheap, common whores.
He's around you all the time.
Correction. You're an expensive whore.
That'll cost you a pair of Gucci
baby booties for your son, asshole.
Oh, correction. The adorable baby
I let you pretend is your son.
What does that mean?
What that means...
is that I make the rules,
because I am the legal parent.
- Rule number one: Don't screw the nanny.
- I didn't.
Then what's this?
It just kills you that I screw other women,
doesn't it, Gina?
She was fantastic, by the way.
A real spinner.
Say goodbye to your daddy, Wilber.
- You won't see him for a while.
- I'll see him on Friday...
when you go to your Sexaholics meeting.
Our standing father-son date.
It's cancelled, sociopath,
until you can learn to acknowledge...
- Stop telling me what to do!
- Listen to me, slick dick!
I left Wilber with you,
not with some stranger.
You can't have it all.
You cannot be a kid and have a kid.
Now look what you've done, asshole.
Friday at 7:00.
And I'm rehiring my nanny!
What do you mean,
Christian's going to do it?
I don't want him. I want you.
Sorry, Erica.
If anything went wrong,
I wouldn't have the emotional objectivity...
- to trust my ability to make decisions.
- I had no idea you felt that strongly.
- Perhaps you should talk to someone.
- I'm not doing your face-lift...
because I have a responsibility to you,
to Julia.
Your safety is not something
I'm willing to risk.
Why? Do you have a subconscious desire
to harm me?
I assure you, any desire I have to harm you
is totally conscious.
Look, Christian is one of the best.
Trust me.
He's got great hands.
So, Erica, tell me what you don't like
about yourself.
My neck...
my eyes...
my stupidity.
Why did I ever let you go?
I bet you say that to all the boys
you slept with at your daughter's wedding.
- Ancient history.
- Ancient. Yes.
Why not throw in "dead and buried. "
You know I didn't mean anything by that.
- You look wonderful.
- No, you look wonderful, you bastard.
A handsome young prince turned into...
an even more handsome
young plastic surgeon.
I turned into an old lady
who needs a face-lift.
You must think I'm pathetic.
Actually, I still think you're a knockout.
You don't need a face-lift, Erica.
Don't bullshit a bullshitter.
When a hunky guy at the airport
asks you directions...
not because he's trying to pick you up...
but because he really wants
those directions...
you've fallen off the radar,
sexually speaking.
It happens to everybody.
I got shot down last night by a 25-year-old.
Don't patronize me.
It's a true story.
Somehow I've become that old guy
on my driver's license.
The one I've been hiding myself from...
until it's time to renew...
and then there is some even older guy
next to my name...
pretending to be me.
How can you say that? You're still a kid.
An incredibly beautiful kid.
Feel that?
Yes.
It's the fountain of youth.
All I need is for you to turn it on.
You're healing nicely.
It looks so great, Lib.
Can I see?
Well, I look hot.
Actually, I thought there was going to be
more progress.
Lib, come on.
Dr. McNamara fully explained
this first procedure was architectural.
It's just the beginning.
I know Dr. McNamara
needs some private exam time...
so I'll see you tomorrow morning
before I go to work, okay?
I thought we were
watching Glitter tonight.
- I thought I told you, I have a dinner.
- With who?
- A friend.
- I'm your friend.
- And I need you here tonight, Chad.
- I need a break, okay?
One night away from the tubes and...
Look, I'll see you tomorrow.
Thanks, Doctor.
- You okay?
- He's dating someone again. I know it.
And this is a bad thing?
No. Not at all.
They never last. But we do.
Ms. Zucker...
I recommend that we move you
to Fairmont Convalescent Center...
- at the end of the week.
- A nursing home?
A physical and emotional recovery center.
If you think I need to be
on a suicide watch, forget it.
It takes self-esteem and courage
to pull a trigger.
If I couldn't do it the first time,
what makes you think I could do it now?
I wasn't supposed to be here...
with pus draining down my throat,
looking like a monster.
Neither was Chad.
The plan was for us to meet upstairs
at the eternal tea dance in the clouds.
That was the plan.
We went out for my birthday,
but it wasn't fun anymore.
Our jobs sucked.
Nobody offered to buy us drinks.
So we thought...
why not go out in a blaze of glory.
1, 2...
But I couldn't do it.
I loved him too much.
...3.
When such a big thing
was taken from you...
- did you ever wish...
- I hadn't lived?
No.
It took almost dying
to realize that aging isn't a curse.
It's a privilege.
You have to set aside an hour four times
a week if you want to see results.
I'm happy to just maintain.
Apparently.
We managed to get through
the entire hour...
without bludgeoning each other
with the free weights.
Let's not wreck it now.
You're right. It's fun.
But, darling, stop kidding yourself.
Once you hit 40, it's war.
You against gravity.
Forty? Wow!
Your troops must have
incredible battle fatigue.
When I consulted with Christian
about my lift...
he told me I had the body of a 40-year-old.
He seemed to think my body
was as good as yours.
Please, Mother.
He was just trying to make you feel better.
He'd already taken care of that.
You slept with him?
We're both single, consenting adults.
Should I have asked permission?
Excuse me,
have I broken some unholy law?
"Thou shalt not sleep with thy
son-in-law's partner"?
Yes, when he's about to operate
on your face.
Why are you so upset?
Because having a face-lift...
is so totally indulgent.
You're appealing enough to seduce
a man 20 years younger than you.
What more do you want?
Look at me, Julia.
My God, what are you doing?
You can exercise years off your body,
and I have. See?
But crunches can't tighten the skin
under your chin.
I want to feel the way he made me feel
for more than just an hour.
I want someone to look at the entire me
with desire.
But he didn't look at me.
He didn't open his eyes.
Not once.
To get through it,
he had to fantasize about someone else.
That kid never sleeps
for longer than 15 minutes.
He does for me.
Seriously? You can get him to sleep?
I know how to wear all my boys out.
- Wanna see my trick?
- Sure.
What's she doing, boy? Come here.
You're okay. It's okay.
What's the matter, buddy? Here.
Come on. Put this in.
- Cough syrup? What's that for?
- I call this a binkatini.
It'll put him out for hours.
- Open up, baby boy.
- Are you kidding me?
- You've been poisoning my kid with this?
- Chill out.
It's just over-the-counter stuff.
Get out.
- What the hell?
- I said get out, you incompetent bitch.
Don't you start that "baby comes first"
shit with me, Dr. Troy.
If you wanted a real nanny,
you would've hired one...
that didn't deep throat Daddy
during the job interview.
It's okay.
It's not funny, Sean.
I'm sorry, but the picture
of those two vain little peas...
in their self-absorbed pods
pumping away over the desk...
- It's hilarious if you think about it.
- I don't want to think about it.
Come on. Why are you taking this
so personally?
My own mother flashed me at the gym...
and then she insisted
she had a better body than me.
She doesn't.
If she bothers you so much...
let's have Christian do her lift
and send her packing.
She says there's a conflict of interest now,
because she screwed him.
She's insisting again that you do it.
Would you?
Then we never have to buy her
another Christmas present...
for as long as we live.
Sure.
You're nothing like her, you know.
Our kids are so lucky.
Turning 40 agrees with you.
You've become positively unflappable.
Hello?
Come here.
He's been like this for hours.
I did my faces, my "Tickle Me Elmo" voice.
Nothing calmed him down.
He doesn't feel feverish.
Why are you doing that?
I already burped him.
Apparently not to completion.
You and me playing mom and pop.
It's quite a picture, huh?
Why didn't you call Gina?
And let her know
that I'm an incompetent dad? No way.
- She'd use that against me.
- Well, then read Doctor Spock.
Sean and I can't keep cleaning up
your messes.
- Why are you being such a bitch?
- You slept with my mother.
Once.
- At your wedding.
- Also at my wedding?
So, I see she offered up full disclosure.
- Okay, Christian, thank you.
- For what?
For releasing me completely
from any residual emotional attachment...
that I might have had towards you.
I thought we decided
we weren't going there again.
But you can't keep up your end
of the bargain, can you?
My mother and I bear more than
a passing resemblance to each other.
When you were screwing her,
with your eyes closed...
and everything was soft focus...
who did you pretend you were with?
Stop hurting me
because you can't have me, Christian.
You turn 40 next week.
For everybody's sake, grow up.
This must be weird for you.
It is. She looks
a little too much like Julia.
Though I guess
that didn't bother you.
I needed to feel more May
than September for a change.
More like August, October.
You ready to turn back time?
Scalpel.
Thank you, Nurse.
You all right?
Liz is right. This must be weird
for you. Like cutting into your wife's face.
I get it. I'll do it. You supervise.
Be kind.
I think I work better on women
I've screwed.
Once you've seen a woman's come face,
you've seen her soul.
That was eerie what we just did in there,
wasn't it?
Men age and society says
we've become more rugged...
women age and they just become...
old.
Sad.
It is sad, isn't it?
To be 40 and know you've peaked.
Jesus, Sean.
We've been through this.
Accentuate the positive for a change.
I have a yip.
A what?
A spasm. A psychological disorder.
- It's why I couldn't do Erica's lift today.
- When did this first happen?
I could barely get through
the Zucker surgery.
You operated on a patient knowing
this could affect your performance?
What was I supposed to do?
You can do a garden-variety lift,
congratulations...
but you don't have
the skill or experience...
to do complicated microsurgery.
What kind of surgical destination for
the southern US are we supposed to be...
when one of us is an invalid?
If I can't operate, we can't operate.
From Vicodin to morphine. I'm stoked.
How does it work?
When you feel discomfort,
you push this little button...
and the medication instantly disperses
into your bloodstream.
Can you overdose on it?
No. The system has safeguards.
Ms. Zucker, I'm working late tonight.
And when I'm off...
I can help transport you to
the medical facility if your friend doesn't...
Hey, beautiful.
I'll be here for an hour,
if you need me, okay?
Thanks.
So, we all packed and ready to go?
Almost.
Okay.
- Where were you?
- I was stuck in traffic.
- It was terrible.
- Have some dignity. Stop lying.
- Okay. I was with a friend.
- You mean a boyfriend.
- You were afraid to tell me.
- Because you make me take sides...
- and I'm sick of it.
- Actually, it's me you're sick of, right?
And my disgusting, medicinal,
hospital smells and my needs.
- When you're like this, yes.
- It's not going to last.
I'm in love with him.
His name is Jesse, and he loves me, too.
- Let me guess. Massage therapist?
- An architect.
He doesn't do drugs, he's not in A. A.,
he's a together person, Lib.
He wants me to move in with him.
I wanna talk about it with you first.
I guess there goes the baby idea.
I love you,
but not the way you want, okay?
I have never loved you that way,
and I never will.
There. After 20 years, I've finally said it.
You're mean.
You're still my best friend. I will help you.
I just can't keep doing this, Lib.
What happened to us,
it taught me so much, Libby.
I realized there's so much to live for.
There's so much of life
I've been squandering and now...
I have a chance to be whole.
It's a real chance, and I'm going to take it.
What happens when your hair turns gray?
And you get fat and ugly?
I'm the only one who's going to love you.
He won't.
He said he wants to grow old with me.
Someone finally said that to me.
Well, I can't let that happen, Chad.
I love you too much to let you grow old.
"As long as I'm living
My baby you'll be"
Wanna help Daddy celebrate his birthday?
Let's make a wish.
Please, let me be
a good father.