Original subtitles

Welcome back to Psychic Pals. As we promised, here is the heartwarming story

a woman in Baton Rouge who wrote to tell how Psychic Pals saved her husband's

life. Let's watch.

I had just come in from pruning my rose bushes when I saw my husband, Tom, lying

face down in the dog dish.

I knew I'd have to rush him to the hospital and fast.

What a time to lose my car keys.

Good thing I knew what to do in an emergency.

I called my psychic pal, Barbara.

He told me to look in the freezer.

And there were my keys.

In between the fish sticks and the fudges. I got Tom to the hospital

enough to keep his brain damage to a minimum. And he was able to keep his job

the cable company.

Thank you, psychic pal.

I'm proud of you, Mom.

As hitting rock bottom goes, that was pretty damn graceful.

Wait till you see my real stories of the highway patrol.

I get hit by a butt. Bye.

How are you doing?

If you must know, Sean and I are going to a teenage body -piercing party.

Wow, that's weird.

I was planning on staying home and piercing myself.

I'm gone.

What time will you be home?

Why don't you call your psychic pal Barbara? Maybe she can tell you.

I did. She says midnight or you're grounded.

It's work if you can get it, and if you get it, won't you tell me how?

No, you look. I haven't gotten my paper since Toothy.

How could the paper girl forget her route? It's like riding a bike.

It is riding a bike.

Hey, you're not the only paper in town, you know.

You are?

Well, maybe if you delivered mine more often, I'd...

Yeah, we're, uh, dating.

Let me ask you something.

When you're with Zoe, does she constantly insult you, roll her eyes at

everything you say, and make sarcastic remarks about how you're too old for

dress? No.

Me neither.

Want some juice?

Sure. So, where are you two going tonight?

Oh, I don't know.

It doesn't really matter. I just like spending time with her. She's got this

of making every moment seem longer.

Yeah. That started during childbirth.

You two are getting pretty close, huh?

Yeah. Well, I mean, I haven't had many girlfriends, but Zoe's really great.

Yeah, well, she must think you're great, too. So if you're both feeling great,

then that leads to great intimacy, which is great. Well, it's not great, but I

can't do anything about it. Just like I can't shut up, which isn't so great.

Look, if you're worried about me and Zoe, um, you know, doing stuff.

Well, I just want to make sure, you know, you're being as safe as possible.

have some pamphlets upstairs.

Um, actually, Zoe and I aren't... We both took a vow of chastity.

And, uh... So we aren't having any... Any.

I understand.

This is difficult to talk about with your girlfriend's mother.

I just want you and Zoe to have as healthy and open a relationship as

With me.

I'm sorry, sir, the mission's down the street.

Cute, Sib.

I slept in my car in your driveway.

Wow, your parents really screwed you up with that little race car bed, didn't

they? I can't sleep at my house. My computer's there, luring me with its

siren song only to dash me against the rocks of... of, uh... Oh, great,

now I have talker's block.

I've just gotten Zelda Fitzgerald, great book.

Yeah, I thought if I read about Fitzgerald's life, it would inspire me.

Inspire you? He was a drunkard, had constant money problems, an insane wife,

he died young.

Sure, look on the dark side.

Wasn't Zelda his inspiration?

He called her his muse.

She taught him how to be spontaneous, carefree, and borderline psychotic.

Well, except for the spontaneous, carefree, and borderline part, she

like your mother.

Why don't you just cane me, Sybil? It would be a lot less painful.

What I need is somebody who's uninhibited and reckless to invigorate

Maybe I should hang out with your neighbor.

My neighbor? Yeah, the new guy next door. He, uh, jumped the hedge and took

paper this morning.

My neighbor took my paper and you didn't try to stop him?

Hey, I thought I slept in my car. I didn't say I slept in my clothes.

Well, hi.

Hi, I'm Sybil, your next -door neighbor.

And I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.

And for future reference, anything delivered to my house...

It's mine.

Great. I'm Ed.

Ed Philo. And doggone it, I've been meaning to get over there and introduce

myself.

Well, good.

You know, Ed, I was wondering if maybe you woke up this morning kind of groggy.

And when you went out to get your paper, you accidentally climbed my hedge and

took mine by mistake?

Nope. Doesn't sound familiar.

Hey, you're an actress. I just saw you on that Psychic Pals show.

You're really good.

Thanks. Now, about my paper.

Could I have your autograph?

Oh, um, sure.

Hey, this is my news week.

Oh, son of a gun, it is.

Listen, why don't you take it? I've already read it.

Well, nice meeting you, Sybil.

Not so fast, Philo!

Can I help you?

Where's Philo? He's in Cleveland.

Why don't you just tell him to call me as soon as he gets back?

Why exactly do you need my shovel?

I told you, Dr.

Dick canceled my season subscription to the Philharmonic.

So you're going to tunnel your way in?

Hi,

honey. You look nice. Going out with Sean tonight?

God, mother, must you know every minute detail of my life?

You mean the one I gave you?

I'm going to the library, okay?

Okay. Okay, are you going to be warm enough?

Okay,

then. Hey, sis.

What'd you do to Zoe? I flew off the handle and asked her if she'd be warm

enough. What are you doing here?

Batteries. I was parked in your driveway taking a nap.

I don't sleep very well in there. Never should have gotten bucket seats.

Sure, they look comfortable.

Listen, Ira, if you're really having this much trouble, why don't you just

in the house and sleep with me tonight?

Really? Yeah, right.

Hello! What about my needs?

Where's the camouflage paint? Under the sink with the Let's Invade Normandy kit.

Why do you need all this stuff?

Since Dr.

Dick has stolen my music, I'm going to take his stereo, the one he never let me

touch, and bury it in a great big hole.

Like the one in Sybil's yard where the bougainvillea used to be?

What do you mean used to be? How could it be... Final!

You've got a pretty wild sense of adventure, don't you?

Some women garden, others golf.

I make my ex -husband's life a living nightmare.

Oh, Lord, when will Ms. Rahi come out with a line of yard work apparel?

It must be so liberating to have absolutely no conscience whatsoever.

You were a lawyer once. You know the feeling.

I mean, to be so reckless, like Zelda Fitzgerald. You know, I'm in the market

for a lunatic muse.

Mind if I tag along?

I need to talk down to you, but are you really willing to put on repairman's

uniform and liberate stereo equipment in broad daylight?

I can do it.

All right. Meet me two blocks south of Dr. Dick's house, 3 p .m. sharp. Bring

sneakers, a ski cap, and a thermos of slow gin fizz.

Is it okay if I make mine slow virgin fizz?

I'm just worried about the calories.

Ira Woodbine on a retaliatory raid. Now that's entertainment.

He stole my bougainvillea. The newspapers were one thing. But this is

napping.

Who am I talking to?

Rayanne? Ira?

Huh.

Yes, police? This is an emergency.

Sure, no problem. I'll hold.

Hi, Sean.

Zoe's at the library.

Yeah, I know. I just thought I'd come over and, you know, hang if that's okay

with you. Hello, police?

Or I could go.

Several robberies. A spree, actually.

I'm at 11291 Moss Canyon.

It's the house of the big boogin... Not anymore.

Oh, you'll find it.

Boy, nothing weird ever happens at my house.

Well, there was that one time my parents spoke only Latin for a month.

Don't your parents ever do anything a little less academic, like toss around a

football? No, mostly we just toss around ideas.

I didn't realize things were so bad at home.

Come on. You can't spend your whole life being cerebral.

It's un -American.

Go deep.

I'll hit you.

Why don't we bury my CD player and let me take this one home?

Ira, that's stealing.

And stealing is wrong.

Now hand me my flask. Oh, maybe we shouldn't be doing this.

He's going to have to dig this thing up, and I'm telling you, his gardener's not

going to be happy either.

No wonder you can't write. You're so deaf.

I mean, if you can't have fun bearing a man's harm and gardener... Ira,

I want you to take a glass.

And tell me what's missing.

Our footprints away from the scene of a felony.

The correct response is... What is molasses?

I don't get it. The dirt alone is enough to destroy that equipment.

Welcome to zen vandalism.

The less sense it makes, the more it means.

This is so liberating.

This is just the beginning.

Swim with the dolphins fully clothed. We'll fly off to the Himalayas and short

-seat the Dalai Lama.

We'll fill all the handprints of the Chinese theater with dip.

Dip?

Bravo!

Well,

that was quick. Come on in.

Only took you five hours.

And I left that trail of donuts and everything.

Oh, good. An attitude.

You want to tell us what was stolen?

My bougainvillea and six newspapers.

And my TV guide is two days late. It's vicious, huh?

Hey, Chloe.

Look, the police are here.

Yahoo.

It's just like NYPD Blue, except they have their pants on.

Look, ma 'am, we can't really help you, but here's a little tip.

You don't call 911 for missing shrubbery. You call 911 when, say, you

husband lying face down in a dog food.

September 7th, 1998.

Trump came over here and just started talking. He was the one who brought up

family. You made him talk about his family? God, why don't you just ram a

into our relationship?

All right, but I need a spike.

He didn't tell me anything about anything.

Honest. He even denied you were having sex.

did you think it was acceptable to blab to my mother about our sex life?

I didn't. Sean, maybe I didn't want my mother to know we aren't having sex.

Whatever you and I are not doing is none of her business. Did you even think of

that?

No, I can honestly say I didn't.

Listen, you stay away from my mother, okay?

Because if you think we're not having sex now, just you wait, mister.

how much I'm enjoying being Ira's muse.

Of course, there's no money in it, but it's so exhilarating.

Ira and exhilarating? I don't think I've ever heard the two words together.

No, Sybil, he's really loosened up. In fact, tonight he's surprising me with

very own random act of whimsy.

He's given me an address, a map, and a package that I'm not supposed to open

until 45 minutes before the event.

No one can plan spontaneity better than Ira.

I don't think I should say.

Aren't you two going out tonight?

I don't think I should say.

If I told you I was going to mail the gas bill, would that be considered too

personal?

Let me run it by Zoe.

So, how'd you get the shiner, kid?

I have no comment.

You'll make a wonderful, disgraced senator someday.

I've got an itch, and I need to scratch it.

Come on, Marianne. You can't pass up an opportunity for revenge.

Until this moment, I didn't think I could, but that's how important this is

me.

I'm somebody's muse.

This could be my one shot at influencing posterity.

Go.

Influence. Put in a good word for me, will you? I didn't come off so great in

Ira's last book.

I'm not really supposed to fraternize.

Zoe will never know.

Who ever thought that Ira Woodbine would dress up like Gatsby, drink champagne,

and ricochet croquet balls over Valentino's grave?

If Sybil could see you now, she'd be so proud of me.

To my inspiration, my muse, my Zelda.

You know, I've never played croquet in a cemetery before.

Dodgeball, yes, but...

You just missed Blanchini's tombstone. That's what I love about Hollywood. You

can't hit a croquet ball without tripping over somebody famous.

Look, I hit Rin Tin Tin.

Fetch.

Marianne, you're amazing.

You've taken this repressed, uptight, totally blocked writer and peeled away

layer after layer of inhibitions like an onion.

It's a miracle.

Who would have thought I'd have my moment in the sun at midnight?

In a graveyard.

Charleston?

Oh, aren't you just a cat's pajamas?

Thank

you,

officers, and believe me, I'll see that it doesn't happen again.

What in God's name were you two thinking?

I'll get to you in a minute, pally.

Sean is my boyfriend.

I don't want you two playing football, getting arrested, or talking about my

life.

Well, I'm just the evil, awful mother from hell, aren't I?

Go away, Sean.

Please, please don't do that.

You've crossed the line, mother.

Sean is a part of my life you have no business getting anywhere near.

Let's get one thing straight, Missy. I'm the mother, and if anybody's going to

be self -righteous and condescending around here, it's going to be me.

I just wanted to make Sean feel welcome. I didn't do anything wrong.

Oh, well, that explains the police then, doesn't it?

Oh, lighten up. We saw it off a mailbox.

You were young once.

We had this afternoon. You still went out with her in one of her stupid

What were you thinking?

I like her. She reminds me of you.

You're really not good at this, are you?

No.

Think about it.

You're both into candles and all that spiritual stuff.

And when she saw down that mailbox today, it was just like that time when

hacked into the school computer and became a substitute teacher.

Oh, yeah, and you both get that same twinkle in your eye right before you

to laugh.

That is the lamest, mushiest crock of crap I've ever heard.

Did it work?

No.

Ira!

Hi, Mary Ann. Great news. I've written two sentences.

Strong sentences.

They're not much, but, uh...

They're a beginning.

That's wonderful.

Let's go toss ice cubes off the Santa Monica Pier.

No, no, you don't have to understand.

I'm over my writer's block. Soon there'll be paragraphs and chapters, and

all because of you.

I've come to say thank you and goodbye.

Goodbye?

You mean it's over?

I'm sorry.

I wasn't crazy enough. Tell me the truth.

There's another muse, isn't there?

No, never.

Marianne, you helped me write again.

My muse, my sweet, shining muse.

Well, I've never been dumped so beautifully before.

I don't even think I'll stalk you.

Well, that's my loss. I've seen your work, and you're the best.

Ah, you.

Now get out of here before I saw halfway through your brake cable.

Marianne.

Goodbye.

Goodbye, Ira.

I'll never forget you.

See you at Sybil.

Okay, now we punch in his social security number that we got from the

we access his credit report.

Presto.

Hey, let's download.

I have no idea what that means, but I always wanted to say it.

Dibble! Yeah, we're up here in Z's room!

Oh, here you are.

I've come to tell you that I'm ready to return to the fold.

Whatever twisted little plot you'd like to carry out on your neighbor, I'm here

to aid in a bit.

Thank you, but Zoe and I have the situation well in hand.

We've already rerouted Ed Philo's mail, helped him donate $1 ,000 to Greenpeace,

and enlisted him as a foot soldier in the Michigan militia.

Hey, any way we could put out an all -points bulletin on Dr.

Dick?

Kid stuff.

Let's have him indicted.