Original subtitles

Fucking holidays.

Hmm.

Merry Christmas.

Ah! This is what you wear to Christmas dinner?

Don't you even own a dress?

I'm great, Mom. Thanks.

House looks beautiful.

Well, your Aunt Susan brought at-the-mall-Santa home.

And your nephew just pooped in the manger.

Ugh. It was a tiny poop,

and he moved the baby Jesus first.

- Hi. - Hi.

Merry Christmas.

- Gingerbread elf? - Oh!

- Wow. - Hey.

Um, Rodney said you didn't call him.

I'm sorry, but I cannot date a professional clown.

I'd never sleep.

Jesus, Sloane, it's been six months. You gotta get back out there.

How does she expect to meet anybody

when she sits around the house wearing pajamas?

It's called working remote, Mother.

My boss doesn't care what I wear as long as I meet my quota.

He does, however, request that my mother stop FaceTiming me during business hours.

You're not still smoking, are you?

Uh... No, Mom. I'm not still smoking.

I had a smoky Uber.

Well, I know the holidays can be stressful,

but no man wants to marry a smoker...

who lies.

Well, no man wants a bitchy mother-in-law.

So, I guess that's three strikes.

Woo-hoo hoo-hoo!

You know it's a holiday when my sister shows up alone.

- Don't rub it in. She's obviously sad. - Stop it.

I'm not sad.

Are you sure? You look really sad.

Uh-uh.

I'm not sad.

Boom! One sanitized manger.

Aw, Sloane.

You didn't call Rodney?

Isn't he great?

- Hmm. - I met him at the mall.

You'd be surprised at the quality of men you can meet at the mall.

I don't think I would actually.

Relax.

It's not like I'm going to marry him.

He's just my holidate.

A "holidate"?

You know, a date solely for the holiday.

No commitment.

Want me to see if he has a friend?

Don't be nervous. They'll love you.

Your parents know this is only our third date, right?

Oh, my God. It's not a big deal.

Actually, I don't think they know you're coming.

- Hi! Merry Christmas! - Merry Christmas!

Oh, and you must be Jackson.

You're even more handsome than in the pictures.

Pictures?

Oh, and her first time on Santa's lap.

She peed right through to Santa's leg.

Ah, first ballet recital and...

Oh!

This is the day she got her first period.

Charming.

Oh, and this one...

was for Little Miss Evanston.

You should know,

Carly's father and I are perfectly comfortable

with you two sleeping together in here.

Oh, no. It's fine.

I won't be staying over.

Nonsense.

You're practically family.

Fuck am I?

- Sloane. - Yeah?

Stop being a baby. We can put the leaf in.

No, thank you. I prefer the singles table.

All right, kids, let's check on presents. Come on. Let's go.

So...

Aunt Sloane, why didn't you call Rodney?

Why didn't you call Rodney?

Because I already have a boyfriend.

His name is Levi,

and he shares his juice box with me every day at recess.

Good for you, Daisy.

You enjoy it while you can,

because one day you are gonna walk outside,

and you're gonna catch Levi sharing his juice box

with a Starbucks barista named "Rainbow."

Yeah, it's not a good day, Daisy.

It hurts.

It hardens you.

And the next thing you know,

you're just south of 30,

sitting at the kids table, numbing the pain with a vodka.

God, my parents love you!

What the hell is wrong with you? You told them...

- You told your parents we're a couple? - Oh, come on.

You know you like me.

You wouldn't be here on a major holiday

- if you didn't like me. - I...

A Clapper?

Look, I told you my parents are in Australia.

I didn't have any other...

...plans.

Ooh!

- Hey! - Ah!

- Pajamas. - Yes!

I thought they were so cute and cozy for, like, a girl's night in.

Hey!

- Pants. - They're khakis!

Because golfers love khakis, right?

I didn't know the size so I got three, but you can exchange them.

Pants...

and a project.

Thanks!

I'm sorry. I really didn't...

think we're doing the whole present thing.

Why would you think that?

Because you said we're not doing the whole present thing.

Oh!

I see. So, you know me well enough to cum in my mouth,

but you don't know me well enough to get me a Christmas present?

I...

I could give you some cash. I've got, what...

What have I got left? Forty bucks?

Forty bucks?

What am I, a prostitute?

No! God, no!

Absolutely not. What the...

I'll take 80.

I'm not giving you $80.

But we had sex, Jackson! Twice!

I cannot believe that you didn't get me a Christmas present!

I can't believe

that you'd ambush me like this in front of your parents!

Actually, you know what? I can.

'Cause chicks go mental on the holidays.

Lovely evening, guys. Beautiful dinner. Have a merry Christmas.

Cheers.

Could I have everyone's attention?

There's something that I need to say.

Who wants dessert?

Oh!

Oh!

Elizabeth Kimberly Chen...

Fuck no.

I know it's been only been three months

and six heavenly days,

but I feel like I've known you my entire life.

Will you make me the happiest man in the world

and marry me?

Oh, my gosh!

Yes!

Yes, I'll marry you!

- Two down, one to go! - Congratulations.

- Best Christmas ever! - Yes!

Wow, this is... awesome.

My little brother getting married.

Wow! I just...

love these pajamas.

- What's the hold up? - This is ridiculous.

I've been in line over half an hour. Please...

I'm sorry, without a gift receipt I can only offer you a store credit.

I don't want a store credit.

I want to never have to return to this store.

We have some really cute stuff. Have you tried our authentic skinny jeans?

Excuse me!

Come on, dude!

Crocodile Dundee,

some of us have jobs.

Dundee. Original.

Hang on. What makes you think I don't have a job?

You're at the mall on a Wednesday

returning slacker pants.

Uh... These happen to be khakis.

Lots of employed people wear khaki pants.

Hopefully, you mean khakis and still don't care.

Hi, there. I just have a quick return.

Hey!

- Receipt? - They didn't come with a receipt.

Just the assumption that I would be alone forever

and, apparently, gorge myself into the size of a lumberjack.

Nailed it.

You know what? My Christmas already sucked.

So, you can go "nail it" somewhere else.

Uh, I need to go check on these.

I'll give you 40 bucks for those khakis, and a Fresh Pretzel, two-for-one.

This is like 80 bucks worth of pants.

No deal.

Hey, if it's any consolation,

I spent my holiday in an ugly Christmas sweater,

sipping mocktails with a room full of people who I think were in a cult.

I'll see your ugly Christmas sweater,

and raise you a seat at the kids table,

my little brother getting engaged,

and catching my aunt getting her cookie licked by a mall Santa.

That's a... festive visual.

Seared into my brain like a bad tattoo.

I got a bad tattoo once.

Is that... Matt Lauer?

I was a really big fan of the Today Show.

Sorry, these are from two seasons ago.

I can offer you a store credit

at the current sales price of...

$4.99!

$4.99?

Four dollars and ninety-nine cents.

My sister has become so cheap since having kids.

It'd be really cute if you cut off the legs, like capri pants.

Fifty bucks for everything.

- Hey! - Like you're making capri pants.

I might.

I have a crafty side.

Okay.

Forty.

Forty-five!

And the pretzels, two-for-one.

- You don't want any? - I don't eat that crap.

- Do you know what that does to your body? - Yeah.

It fills me with warm, delicious happiness.

Like Christmas used to, before I realized Santa was a big scam.

Yeah.

Christmas peaked for me at about ten.

I got a surfboard and my first complete set of golf clubs.

Hmm.

- It was good. - My best Christmas...

was a Barbie Dream House, preassembled,

and a ventriloquist puppet named Lester.

He looked like Jaleel White.

Hmm?

I sort of had a thing for Urkel.

I spent months learning to throw my voice.

- Well, come on, let's hear it. - No.

Excuse me. I bought you a free pretzel.

So, you owe me an Urkel.

Come on.

Come on.

Did I do that?

Did I do that?

Nice.

- What happened to Lester? - Oh, he sleeps with me every night.

What?

Hey, Sloane!

Oh, God! Oh, God!

Is that an ex-boyfriend of yours or something?

No! That is the guy my aunt brought home for Christmas.

That's the cookie licker?

Tell your Aunt Susan to call me!

He was her holidate.

Wait. What's a holidate?

Just some guy she picked up at the mall to spend Christmas with.

Wait, just Christmas or all holidays?

Easter, New Year's...

She's an equal opportunity holi-dater.

That's what I need for New Year's Eve.

You can try, but this late in the game, he's probably booked.

No. Seriously, I am done casually dating on the holidays.

There's way too much pressure. It's ridiculous.

I always end up being the asshole at the end of the day, anyway.

Yeah? Well, try being the only single person left in your family.

Every time I walk into a room,

I'm showered in a sea of pity and sad glances.

I mean, why is everyone so suspicious of a happy, single woman?

Because you're obviously not happy.

Yes, I am.

Hmm... Happy.

No, you're not.

Human beings aren't meant to be alone on the holidays.

We actually need

warmth,

companionship,

and someone to drunk-mock strangers with at parties.

I do enjoy drunk-mocking strangers at parties.

Well, then, this is perfect! We can be each other's holidate for New Year's Eve.

I don't even know you, so...

Yeah, well, that's what makes it perfect.

'Cause there's no pressure. There's no expectations.

I mean... I don't even think I find you that attractive.

Wow! Calm down with the flattery.

Not that you're not attractive. It's just that maybe...

you're not that attractive to me.

Goodbye!

Okay, wait a second. You just said that you're tired of all the sad glances

- and looking pathetic. - "Pity," not "pathetic."

Okay, tomato, tomato.

I've got tickets to the Skyfall party.

- Wait, really? - Yeah.

That's such a fun party.

- Oh, come on, then say yes. - Ugh!

I just wanna go.

I wanna relax, have a few drinks.

Not worry about my date

going batshit if I don't drop a knee at midnight.

What makes you sure I'm not batshit?

You had me at Lester.

I'm Jackson, by the way.

Sloane.

Nice to meet you, Sloane.

Here are my details.

"Golf pro?"

What's your real job?

Just think about it and text me.

Not texting you, Tiger Woods.

- Think about it. - Not texting you!

Just send me a text.

Uh... I'm almost finished.

We are right on target for queue three, and...

I'll have those numbers teed up first thing in the morning.

I'm sorry. Can I...

call you back?

Yeah.

Mom, I'm working!

That's what you wear to work?

You could at least put on a nice top.

Honey, I want you to meet someone.

This my new neighbor, Faarooq.

- Hello. - Faarooq is a doctor,

and he's single.

She's much prettier with makeup.

I'm wearing makeup!

- Faarooq is free on New Year's... - Goodbye, Mother.

And so, I thought that...

Almost got me on that one. No.

Nope! Okay.

Eh... nope.

Maybe!

No.

Uh-uh. Mm.

How do you say "no" in Italian?

"No, grazie."

Nah. Oh. Oh!

She is fine!

And she got a little baby goat!

Didn't you hook up with her last month at the pro-am?

Didn't you?

Oh, I did!

She must've left the goat at home.

- I should give her a call... - Why are you using my account anyway?

Because I told you,

I have some obsessive exes that just can't get rid of this.

- Okay? - Know what the problem is with girls?

They got these crazy eyes, right?

They're real, and... I don't need a real girl.

- I need a holidate. - You said a what-a-date?

Hello?

I thought I said text me, not call me.

What's "holidate"?

Is that a new app I need to download?

I cannot keep up.

I think the leather-vest-mate's up now.

Oh, okay, he's an options trader.

Divorced. Two kids at Northwestern.

She was his decorator on the new condo,

- hoping to be wife number three. - Very good. Very good.

Ooh, uh, white satin ruffles.

Rented tuxedo.

He's just drenched in sweat.

They are definitely getting engaged at midnight.

Wow.

- You're good. - It's a gift.

By the way, your tits look exceptional in that dress.

Thanks. That's why I bought it.

Love the way it hugs your ass, too.

That's really sweet of you to notice.

This is great.

I love it. I just can say whatever I want

'cause I don't care if you think I'm a classy guy or not.

And I can wear a slutty dress and not worry about being slut-shamed.

What a holidate bonus.

Hmm.

Ooh.

Okay, so he is a sexually confused art student

with mommy issues.

And she's a wealthy widow

with a taste for bondage.

Aunt Susan?

Sloane!

- Hi. - Hi.

- Oh, baby. - Wow.

Your tits look great in that dress.

That's what I said.

This is... Ronnie.

Robert.

- Hello. - Hi.

We met at the Art Institute.

I was a nude model for his figure sculpting class.

He made me the most perfect clay clitoris.

Like a butterfly taking flight.

You have to see it.

Pass. Thanks.

I'd love to see that.

That can be arranged.

Well, Happy New Year, you kids. Have fun.

Come on, Francois.

Your aunt seems nice.

I need a drink.

There's just no way in hell her character would ever do that.

Who cares? It was funny.

Uh-uh. It was cockamamie.

I'm sorry, no one uses that word anymore.

Well, it's the only word I know

that accurately describes every romantic comedy in history.

There's always some fake reason the stars can't be together

when you know they're gonna be together from the poster.

It's like, "Oh, boo-hoo.

I'm so heartbroken.

Even though you're perfect for me,

I'm taking a break from dating."

I mean, no one is ever...

taking a break from dating!

And let me tell you,

if Ryan Gosling waltzed in here,

picked me up, floated me around to the theme of Dirty Dancing,

I'm not gonna be like,

"Oh, hey, Ryan, buddy, bad timing. I'm taking a break from dating."

I am jumping on that train.

The Ryan Gosling train.

I'd jump on the Ryan Gosling train.

So, who was this dickhead that ruined romantic comedies for you?

- I'd rather not go there. - We're already here.

What's his name? Bill?

Fred?

Carlos?

- Juan? - What?

Bob? What?

Luc.

Luc?

Luc.

Oh, he sounds like a wanker.

No.

He was handsome,

smart,

French.

He wore these sexy, little John Lennon glasses.

- Ugh... - Did triathlons.

Man, he had stamina.

So, what happened?

Hmm.

Nothing much. We just wanted different things.

I wanted someone to take home for the holidays,

and he wanted to text photos of his cock

to the girl that made his double macchiato, so... Ha!

Ouch.

Well, it was my fault.

He was too hot to be trustworthy.

"Always date down." That's what my sister says.

I didn't listen.

Hmm.

I gotta pee.

Oh, my God. It looks like I got stabbed.

It's just wine.

- I can't get engaged wearing this dress! - It's okay. It's not that bad.

- Yeah. It kind of looks like a flower. - Right.

A flower of blood.

Oh...

I'll trade with you.

Oh, my God.

I'm Carrie.

Listen, he loves you.

Okay? He's still gonna propose.

All my life, I wanted to be proposed to on New Year's Eve.

And now it's ruined.

Let's just go.

Hi.

Oh, my God.

You look so beautiful.

Don't ask.

Come on.

Woo-hoo!

Oh!

- What? - Thank you!

[" The time of my life" playing"

No!

Nobody puts Baby in a corner.

All right, everyone, move back.

Yes! Do it!

Go! Go! Go!

Oh, shit!

Whoa...

Boobs! Boobs!

Nobody drops Baby on her head.

I'm gonna take a piss.

All right, y'all!

Are y'all ready for a new year, Chicago?

Yeah!

All right. Grab your sweethearts, and let's do this thing, baby!

Come on, y'all! And...

Nine, eight,

seven, six,

five, four,

three, two,

one!

Happy New Year, Chicago!

Will you marry me?

Oh, my God. Yes! Yes! Yes!

I love you! I love you! I love you!

Shit.

Sorry.

- Happy New Year. - Happy New Year.

You know, tonight didn't suck.

I actually had a fairly decent time.

Yeah.

I mean, not the worst night of my life.

What are you doing for Valentine's?

That's in two months.

Yeah, I know, but if I lock in plans now,

then maybe I won't end up doing anything stupid.

Hmm. Flattered, but two months is a long time.

You know, a lot could happen before then.

Sure.

And if not, I have a standing date at a candy store.

So, I'm good.

Hmm, okay.

Sure.

Good night then.

Happy New Year.

Happy New Year.

What do you mean, you don't have a date for Valentine's Day?

Don't say it like I just told you I have cancer.

But it's Valentine's Day.

No, it's Thursday.

And I'm gonna take a long, hot bath,

pop a bottle of pinot,

treat myself to a few pounds of chocolate, and who knows,

might even watch a little porn.

You can't watch porn on Valentine's Day!

You should especially watch porn on Valentine's Day.

Ugh! So, what is that cute doctor? What's his name, Faarooq?

- You should call him. - Forget it.

I'm not dating someone my mother sets me up with.

What about the mall guy? You had fun on New Year's.

Yeah, but it was a one-time thing.

He wasn't attracted to me.

- He said that? - Yep.

Ick.

Were you attracted to him?

Uh, No.

He can't even speak English.

You should hear him say "khaki."

He says it like, "khakis."

Look, I'm perfectly happy being single.

I get to do what I want when I want,

and I don't have to deal with the stress of shaving

and plucking and waxing.

Ugh, best thing about marriage, no more waxing.

Okay. Well, what about the wedding? You can't be alone at the wedding.

The wedding's in eight months.

And you're already letting yourself go.

Everyone needs to mind their own business.

My romantic status and personal hygiene

are completely under control.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I have an obscene amount of candy to buy.

I bet Rodney's still available.

- Oh, God. Please text him. - Okay.

Ooh. Mmm.

Sloane?

Luc?

My God.

How are you?

What is...

Baby, taste this.

- How amazing. - Hmm. Yeah.

My tongue is having a major orgasm right now.

Do these come in any other flavors?

Oh, I... I don't work here.

Sorry. I thought you were stocking the shelves or something.

No.

- I'm not. - Oh, no. No.

Darling, this is Sloane.

We were lovers for a few months.

Oh, lucky you.

Isn't he amazing in bed?

He's like the Terminator, only I'm the one who never stops coming.

Um...

Hey, love muffin!

I thought you were gonna meet me in Brookstone and try out those massagers.

Good day, I'm Jackson.

I'm Sloane's little boy toy of the moment, you know?

I'm just trying to nail her down long-term,

but you know, she's such a strong and independent woman.

- Stop this. Stop. Stop. it. - Fingers crossed.

I'm Luc, and, uh...

this is Felicity.

Wow.

So, you two are just beautiful.

- Mm-hmm. - I mean...

Wow.

Thank you.

Are we done here, babe?

Because I had some big plans for you

in Victoria's Secret.

- Shall we go? Gonna get the thing. - Yeah.

- Yeah. - Perfect. Okay.

Lovely to meet you. Seriously, all the best.

- Thank you. Bye, Felicia. - Good to see you.

It's Felicity.

- I'm gonna be sick. - Just breathe.

Hey, here. Some tissues.

Now drink this.

Ugh, now I'm for sure gonna be sick.

It's green juice. It's good for you.

You know, the human body is capable of living to about 120 years

if you take care of it.

Who cares?

It's all downhill after 40.

Who wants an extra 80 years of the worst part of life?

Well, if you got a Felicity in your life...

Sorry, that was a low blow.

Why does the next girlfriend always have to be younger and hotter?

Is it like some kind of unwritten law?

Well, you know, normally, the younger and hotter the girl,

the less chance of commitment, so...

in a way, it's actually a compliment.

Wait, that's it.

He's afraid. Dating Felicity is a cry for help.

What, are you drunk?

Maybe a little.

Those bourbon truffles are stronger than I thou...

I took this.

I stole it!

Well, I'm not going back there, so...

we may as well destroy the evidence.

Uh... no, I don't eat that crap. I'm a professional athlete.

Seriously?

Golf is the least athletic sport on the planet.

I'll have you know that golf requires more precise muscle control

and hand-eye coordination

than football and basketball combined.

Maybe.

But LeBron doesn't need a tiny car to take him up and down the court.

Come on. Don't be such a pussy.

It's weird when girls say "pussy."

Oh, my God, you really are a pussy.

Well, if I wasn't such a pussy,

you'd be stuck in a candy store

talking to your ex-boyfriend and his smoking hot new girlfriend.

So, you're welcome, by the way.

You're right.

- Thank you. - Hmm.

I owe you.

That's better.

Now, I'll take my hand job in the parking lot. Thank you.

Oh, a hand job.

What are you, like, 12?

You gave hand jobs at 12?

I developed early.

Oh, my God, it's so good.

Is that enough or do you want more?

More.

- Stop moving. I'm almost done. - This chocolate is good.

Oh, my God, you were not kidding.

- Hold on, hold on. - Shit!

- Shit, it's all over my pants. - You have baby wipes?

Um, yeah, in my glove box next to the diapers.

Oh, my God, you're a bad influence.

No, I'm not.

- Do you want a cigarette? - You smoke?

No.

Not really, just, like, sometimes.

A little tobacco never killed anybody.

Mm, pretty sure it has.

Look, I get it, okay? It sucks running into your boyfriend

on Valentine's Day, in a candy store, wearing pajamas.

Ex-boyfriend, and these are not pajamas.

They're lounge pants.

Hmm.

Believe it or not, this isn't the worst Valentine's Day of my life.

Why didn't you just call me?

I don't know.

I guess I was just embarrassed to admit

that nothing had changed since New Year's.

Isn't that the point of this holidate thing

that we get to avoid this stupid pressure and all the judgment?

Look, whatever. At least the biggies are behind us.

I mean, Christmas, New Year's, Valentine's Day.

Yeah, but I'm telling you, the small ones are just as risky.

I once spent an Earth Day

chained to a tree with a chick from Greenpeace.

It was the longest ten days of my life.

It would be nice to bring someone home for Easter.

So, let's make it official.

Holidates until further notice?

What about sex?

Will Lester be joining us?

No, I'm serious. Friends with benefits never works.

Yeah, but that's only because you girls get clingy

and always want more.

- Us? - Well, yeah.

It's not your fault.

Women are hardwired to attach and procreate.

And men are hardwired to panic and flee.

Okay, fine. So, we agree.

Non-sexual holidates from now on.

Now...

coconut cluster.

- Hmm? Now... - Oh!

Slainte! Slainte!

I can't. I can't. I'm sorry.

I can! I can, I can!

All right. Here we go.

Roy! Roy! Roy! Roy!

York?

Holy shit! No way.

Dude! What the fuck?

- How are you, mate? Hello! - Hello!

Wait, you guys know each other?

Wait, you guys know each other?

Yeah, that's my little brother.

Jack's been giving me golf lessons for over a year now.

You play golf?

Only since you've known me.

All right. Jackson, meet my fiance Liz.

- Hi. - It's still Liz, right?

- And my sister, Abby. - Hi.

- Her invisible husband, Peter. - Hi. Hi.

- Where is Peter? - Nice to meet you.

He doesn't trust the kids with a sitter. I keep saying it's fine.

A two-year-old can dial 911.

- Uh... - I'm joking.

But the six-year-old is more than capable.

Ignore my sister. She has four kids.

- Oh! - Ah!

Oh, God, I have four kids. Jesus!

It sounds like you need a drink.

- Many. - That is a two-man job.

And me. Drink.

Ooh...

Is that the guy from the mall?

- Yeah. - 'Cause he's cute.

- Really? - So, wait. What's the deal?

It's like friends with benefits?

No. No benefits.

We're hardly even friends.

We never talk. It's strictly holidays.

So, what's the point?

Uh... the point is that I'm here with someone.

I'm having fun.

You're not parading me around the bar

and forcing my number on anything with a Y chromosome.

Speaking of that...

uh, if you get a strange text,

- his name is Leroy. - Oh, please.

He's a bouncer.

Did you guys know York golfed?

Yes.

In honor of Easter,

Jackson will enjoy his first taste

- of blue dye number seven. - No! They've done experiments on those.

They don't decompose after ten years in the sun.

- Really? - Yeah.

So, it's like anti-aging.

Hmm.

Hoppy Easter, my little bunnies.

This is Jesús.

- I see what you did there. - What in God's name are you wearing?

Bunny ears.

This is an Easter brunch. This is not the time for a silly costume.

Hop-hop-hop...

Looks like someone else didn't get the memo.

Oh, Faarooq.

I'm so glad you could make it.

Thank you. I'm sorry I'm late.

I was doing rounds

for the kids in the cancer ward.

Aw!

I like a man in fur.

Thank you.

You remember my daughter, Sloane?

Hi, of course.

You're even prettier in person.

Oh, thank you.

- Hey, I'm Jackson. Nice to meet you. - Hey.

- Dig the bunny suit. - I'm sorry, Faarooq.

We weren't expecting Sloane to bring a guest.

Really?

Because I explicitly said

I was bringing a guest.

What is wrong with you?

What are you...

- I'll just go say hi to the kids. - Hmm.

You see what you did?

- Now, he thinks you're not interested. - I'm not interested.

I can't believe you're trying to set me up on Easter with a bunny.

That's because I care about you.

I want you to find someone who has real potential.

Not this holidate crap like your aunt.

She seems like she's having fun.

- Score! - She's gonna die alone

in a wheelchair and a diaper.

Is that what you want?

Do I get a male nurse?

So, Daisy, how are things with Levi, the juice box king?

We broke up.

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.

It's okay.

He wasn't ready for a real relationship.

I need someone who's going to put me first.

Gotta go.

Wow.

- She is in such great shape. - Hmm.

You know...

the bunny doctor

seems nice.

- Maybe you should go for it? - Really?

Full head of hair.

Doctor.

Obviously, great with kids. It's...

every girl's dream, right?

I don't know.

Maybe?

Plus, I'm...

- I'm not ready. - What's it been?

Almost a year?

So?

Women process heartbreak differently. We need time.

You just dump us and move on.

Hey, women can be just as brutal.

Trust me.

I know plenty of blokes

who've had their hearts crushed by some chick who pretended to care about him.

Pretended she liked his friends

and was into his hobbies,

like cricket

and... backgammon.

And even went so far

as to put all this girlie stuff in his bathroom,

and hide bobby pins in the strangest places.

You know, maybe they even started exploring

couple of certain sexual doors

that they've never explored before.

And then one day, without warning,

the bathroom's cleared out, and she's changed her phone number,

and she snuck out of my place with a panini maker.

A fucking panini maker.

Well...

panini makers are expensive.

Oh, I know.

I paid for it.

So, uh...

what kind of sexual doors are we talking?

- Really? - What? You brought it up.

Now, I'm curious.

- Are we talking, like, backdoor? - Uh...

Shot! Shot! Shot! Shot!

You never answered my door question.

Because it's none of your business.

Come on.

Were there props involved?

Costumes?

An invited guest?

Stop, please.

Just because you don't have a sex life of your own,

it doesn't mean you can pilfer through mine.

I have a sex life.

Really?

When was the last time you had sex?

When did you?

Thursday.

Thursday?

With who?

Uh... that cocktail waitress on Saint Patrick's Day.

You met a cocktail waitress

- on Saint Patrick's Day? - Yeah.

- You were with me. - Yeah, but she just hopped in my Uber.

Shot! Shot! Shot! Shot!

What happened to holidate rule number one, which was, "No judgments?"

Yes, you're right. I'm sorry.

Your lack of a sex life is none of my business.

I just feel bad for you, that's all.

Oh, you feel bad for me?

Hmm.

I see what you're trying to do.

What am I trying to do?

You're trying to get in my head and freak me out so we end up having sex.

- I don't wanna have sex with you. - Oh, right. How could I forget?

- You don't find me attractive. - That's not what I said.

Whatever.

- It's your loss. - Sure it is.

Seriously. I am fantastic in bed.

Yeah, right. You developed early

and hand jobs at 12.

Yada yada yada.

Okay. Well, it doesn't mean I was a slut or anything.

But some people are just naturally gifted.

I happen to be one of those people.

I guess we'll never know.

I guess we won't.

Shot! Shot! Shot! Shot!

Hello.

Hi.

You're on the floor.

Yes, I...

remember falling off the couch,

and it just seemed like...

Seemed like a lot of work to get back up.

So, I guess we might've...

No.

We didn't.

You're wearing my underwear.

Well, that doesn't mean anything.

I probably got cold in the night,

after my panties fell off.

Come on, you must be able to tell somehow.

- Tell how? - I don't know. I don't have a vagina.

Well, there's no forensic evidence.

Nothing's dried on my leg.

There's no wrapper on the floor,

if that's what you're wondering.

Can't you tell?

I mean, he looks a little tired, but...

I don't think he's really satisfied.

I'm telling you.

We didn't do it.

One of us would for sure be able to tell.

Sweet. Let's go with that.

Good. Coffee?

- Please. - Cream?

- No, thank you, black. - Yeah?

Okay.

Cheers.

It's Mother's Day, can we not talk about my personal life for a change?

It's my day and I have a right to know what my only child is doing with her life.

- You have two other children. - Not single. You're the one I worry about.

And I don't understand why you're wasting my daughter's time

- with this meaningless stuff. - It's not meaningless.

We're... friends.

She doesn't need another friend. She needs a husband.

A partner.

Someone legally bound to be there during the chemo.

- What chemo? - Oh, honey.

Don't kid yourself.

You have bad genes.

And bald women don't really get a lot of dates.

You have nothing to worry about.

Sloane is a great girl.

Even bald.

Then why aren't you sleeping with her?

Mom!

Jesus!

I'm just saying it's not gonna kill you to try.

It's like escargot.

It may sound unappealing.

It may look unappealing.

Once you put it in your mouth, it'll knock your socks off.

So, maybe this holidate thing

will turn into something.

Did you just compare

sex with me to eating slugs?

Well...

she has a point.

I'm just saying.

I mean, I hear the bathrooms here are really nice.

Oh...

is this...

Is this the place with the Egyptian cotton towels?

Easy cleanup.

Excuse me. Where are the ladies rooms?

- Over there to the left. - Thank you.

Shall we?

We shall.

You guys are hilarious.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

This one's for you.

I think we got her.

Oh, yeah.

You're not funny.

Think this is gonna be enough?

I think it's a start.

Bye, honey. Drive safely.

Bye. Love you. You got it.

Bye, Mom!

Let's get this party started.

- Shotgun. - You can't call shotgun!

- Really? 'Cause it sounded like I did. - No. I am not getting back there with him.

Uncle Sam? He's harmless.

But we said it was a girls' trip.

He can't drive with his glaucoma.

Liz, come on, get in the car!

Ooh...

Oh, that smell.

Is that pot?

It's medicinal.

For my sciatica.

Ooh!

I love pot. Can you pass it over?

We're going to Peter's family reunion.

Let's be respectful.

Liz, these are your last days as a single woman.

You need to loosen up.

Sam, give her a hit.

Oh, I'm not putting my lips on that thing. I'm a bride.

A little hit won't kill you.

Grandmothers and cancer patients smoke pot, Liz.

Yeah.

- Do it for the kids. - Aw, the kids.

- Hmm... - Okay

I don't feel anything.

You didn't inhale. Try again.

Oh, okay.

Nope.

Still don't feel a thing.

Bummer.

- Woo-hoo -Hey!

Hey, guys! Stop it!

- God bless America! - Yeah!

Hmm.

I guess I'm one of those people that drugs don't affect.

Yeah, that's you.

- Unaffected, all right. - Hmm.

- Ready? - Gotta throw it.

- Right till the end. - Throw it.

- That's how you blow shit up! - Love the smell of napalm, man.

What is it about men and explosives?

All about the cock.

What do fireworks have to do with a man's... anatomy?

It's like jacking off.

Men live for the orgasm.

If they're not fucking, they're dreaming about fucking,

or blowing stuff up.

Next best thing to fucking.

So, they're all down there right now thinking about...

Fucking.

- You can say it, Liz. - I don't need to say it.

I think you do.

Just leave her alone.

No! She's getting married soon.

She needs to learn to express herself

and not be so bunched up and repressed.

Come on, say it.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

No!

Come on. "Fuck."

No!

Fuck!

No!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Are you all happy now?

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Fuckity-fuck!

Hey.

Um... do we have a first aid kit by chance?

Maybe Band-Aids. Why?

Jackson, he...

He just blew off his finger, a little bit.

Oh, my God!

Okay, everybody, remain calm.

Liz, go get some ice and a baggie.

York, find something to make a tourniquet.

Do we have the finger?

Okay, gang, a little hustle, please.

We gotta find that finger.

Got it! Got it!

- Yeah! - Yeah!

Yes!

Booyah! Good eye!

Ew!

Are you sure that's mine?

He's in shock. Get him to the hospital.

- I'll take him. - No! You're drunk. I'll take him.

Hit a Burger King on the way.

- Are you stoned? - No. Why, are you?

Okay. Peter's sober. You can drive him.

- We'll watch the kids. - Cool.

- You kids can tread water? - Yeah!

Uh...

Nope. No way I'm leaving my children with these degenerates.

Good call. Oh, God!

- Okay. All right. - Please, no. Not me.

I'm not good with blood. You know this. Or cars. Or blood.

Yes. Yes.

- No! - You got this.

Go, go, go, go! Breathe! Breathe!

You're gonna be okay, buddy.

It's my fuck-you finger!

- I can't lose my fuck-you finger. - Sloane, good luck.

- His fuck-you finger is in your hands. - Don't say that!

Oh!

Oh! Jesus H. Christ!

I'm sorry. Does it hurt really bad?

- No, it's like a paper cut. - Really?

No, not really!

Don't yell at me!

I'm a nervous driver, technically unlicensed.

- You don't have a license? - I mean, I had one.

It just expired a while back.

Jesus Christ! My finger is in a fucking Ziploc bag!

I know, and it's really freaking me out. Can you put it in the glove box?

We wouldn't want you to be freaked out, would we?

- Your sister smokes weed? - There's a lighter in my purse.

I... I don't do drugs.

And you call yourself a professional athlete?

- Watch out! - Oh, God!

Slow down! Right, right, right!

Shrubbery!

Sloane, seriously!

Car!

Why couldn't they just call an Uber?

Dr. Lambert to the OR, stat.

Oh, my God.

Just relax.

I've got it all under control.

You don't have to lift a finger.

Seriously?

I'm too tired to report you.

- Thanks, mate. - I'm sorry.

Honestly, I know you from somewhere.

I just...

I just can't put my finger on it.

The doctor will be with you shortly. He's reattaching a toe.

Toe?

Hold on a second.

A finger must take priority over a toe.

Sorry.

If only you'd been a jackass a little earlier in the day.

Wow.

You've really got her

wrapped around your finger.

All right.

Faarooq?

Sloane.

Are you hurt?

- Are you okay? - Hi.

Hey.

No, I'm fine. I didn't know you worked all the way out here.

I don't, normally. They called me to reattach a pinkie toe.

That's so amazing.

It's a crucial phalange.

Stop.

Wow, you're doing such amazing work.

It's like wow.

I'm just doing my part.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

Aw...

I was a little disappointed I didn't hear back from you.

And I'm disappointed that I don't get to see my favorite bunny suit.

Ah! Yes, Jackson.

From Easter.

Sparkler got away from you, did it?

Uh, It was an M-80, actually.

Ah... ooh!

That's gonna hurt.

Skin's a little crispy...

But it looks like the bone didn't shatter.

Oh, yes.

All right. Hang tight.

We'll get you prepped for surgery, okay?

- You can fix it! He can fix it! - Well... we'll see.

Fingers crossed.

Tough crowd.

All right.

Here we go.

You good?

Oh, okay. Is this a shoeless apartment?

All right.

I got your prescriptions right here.

Thank you.

The deli down the block will be delivering your soup.

Mm-hmm.

And...

- I called your mother. - Really? What...

What did she say?

She didn't answer. I just left a message.

Oh, yeah.

Told her you had a little accident and should probably give you a call.

Thanks.

Uh...

I'm really sorry that I ruined your Fourth of July.

Holidate rule number three,

"Leave no holidate behind."

Or their appendages.

You should... You should probably get some rest.

Yeah. Yeah, I should.

Unless...

you need anything else?

No, I think I'm good.

Look, I... I think I'm fine.

I'm really tired.

Okay.

I guess I'll just go then.

Okay. Yeah, sure.

See you later.

Our hands touched.

Holy shit.

You use protection?

I'm telling you, there was a vibe.

Vibes are hot.

God, I miss vibes.

Yeah, but now it's weird.

Weirder than not knowing whether or not his penis was actually inside of you?

Yes, actually, because vibes could be real feelings.

I'm trying to tell you there was a serious shift.

It is... not platonic anymore.

You're in trouble. You gotta get out.

I can't. It's her brother's wedding on Labor Day.

I'm so confused.

You like him. He likes you. These are not real problems.

Yes, they are.

I can't "like him" like him until I know for sure he "likes me" likes me.

You cannot go to a wedding with a girl who has actual feelings for you.

They start to get ideas and shit.

Listen to me, brother, as a black man, I'm speaking to this.

Don't do it. No. No.

Labor Day is technically a holiday.

We have the holidate deal.

A wedding trumps a holiday.

You understand that, right?

Men loathe weddings, even if it's a holiday, right?

So, if he's not trying to get out of it,

there's your answer.

I'm gonna ask him about the wedding.

Tell her to go with someone else. Someone who has actual potential.

Like you're doing her a favor.

Well, then who do I bring?

Someone who doesn't give a shit about weddings.

I'm booked.

It's not a holiday. Why are you calling me?

It's an emergency. If you don't help me,

York and Liz are gonna get a gift card for their wedding present.

What about this?

Hideous and wrong.

The Pottery Barn pillow sham are still available...

Guys don't get other guys shams.

It's mostly for Liz.

I suppose you're right.

I... look, you know, I was thinking, and,

honestly, I was not expecting to be invited.

So, I don't really know the protocol here.

You know, it's a wedding, but...

But also a holiday.

Yeah, I... had the same thought.

Oh!

You did?

That's great.

It is?

Oh, well.

I'm so relieved.

Me too.

- So, we'll just... - So, we'll bring dates.

Uh, dates?

Well... yeah.

Dates, right?

Yeah. Dates.

- Other... people. - Perfect.

Attention! Attention! Gather around.

I got something I need to say.

All right?

First off, Liz's parents, or should I say, "Mom and Dad"?

Thank you for this freaking awesome wedding.

Most importantly, to my beautiful bride,

and lady fate.

If I hadn't taken the wrong I train that day, we never would've met.

But we met at a party.

I love you, baby!

- Cheers! - Cheers!

To us.

We did it.

I cannot believe he brought her to the wedding.

I mean, they hardly know each other.

I mean, admit it. It's weird.

- You have to admit it. - I don't...

But they're both single and sexy. It's not that weird.

She's family, and he's a friend.

- Stop! - What?

It's really weird,

because Sloane gets queasy at the sight of blood, and now she's with a doctor.

- He sure scrubs up nice. - You think he's handsome?

Oh, face: eight, hands: ten.

- For a woman... - Stop!

...it's all about the hands.

Hey.

- Yeah. Look. - What?

Hmm.

Yeah, I know. I know. Hey!

They're probably just friends. She's being friendly, right?

Nothing?

Whatever. You know what? I don't even care.

What...

Nope.

I don't feel a thing.

Completely numb.

I'm gonna get us another drink.

Oh, Elaine!

- Congratulations. - Oh, thank you.

Finally, you can get yourself another holidate.

My daughter's taken...

by a doctor.

Ow!

Thank you.

Champagne.

Nice wedding.

Beautiful.

Have fun.

Are you gonna sleep with her?

I don't know.

Thought we might get through desserts first.

So, you might?

That's none of your business.

We're related. It's my business.

Are you gonna sleep with the doc?

Hmm. The man saved your finger. It's the least I could do.

He botched the job.

I still can't flip a full bird.

Lucky for you, Aunt Susan's eyes aren't what they used to be.

You said it wasn't so bad.

I was being nice.

Oh, well, don't do me any favors.

You know what, ditto!

In fact, maybe we should just rethink this whole holidate thing.

Maybe we should.

- Great. - Great.

- Awesome. - Fantastic.

And now, for the moment we've all been waiting for.

The father-daughter dance.

[speaking Mandarin}

What is going on?

- Do they know what this song is about? - No.

Wait, isn't that her dad?

This is so inappropriate.

Are they serious?

That is not gonna look good on the video.

Yeah, someone needs to tell them.

So weird, her daddy.

Seriously.

- No, not us! - Come on. We got this.

- Excuse me. - Beautiful wedding, sir.

Hey!

York.

Yeah.

Oh, shit.

My niece.

Hi.

Are you okay?

I am now.

That needs to be iced.

Any ideas for Halloween?

Already on it.

Trick or treat!

Sloane, stop eating all the chocolate.

You're gonna be sick.

Okay, ready? And suck.

Okay. There, there, there.

Oh, my God.

I am so excited. This is my first adult party since the kids.

Are you sad Peter's not coming?

Well, why should it be different tonight?

- Okay, ready? Suck! Suck! - Oh! Jesus!

Ah!

When did Halloween go from dressing up like a princess to a whore?

I don't know, sixth grade?

What's a whore?

Um, somebody who gets paid to play with boys.

I wanna be a whore.

Me too!

Okay, but just remember that the house gets 50 percent.

Hmm?

Well, this is what I get for putting Jackson in charge of costumes.

Here.

- What is that? - It is a preemptive antacid.

Just pretend it's candy.

I have the flyest costume in this joint.

Look at it. Oh, this suit is fabulous.

I look good, don't I?

I look good. Tell me I look good.

You look ridiculous.

And you're scaring people and not in a good way.

You judging me, Jack Sparrow?

I'm the Black Panther. Wakanda forever!

- You look nothing like the Black Panther. - I'm unique. This is my interpretation.

Look, I've been practicing the accent.

Hello. How are you today?

- That's actually really good. - Good, right?

- Ahoy, mateys! - Oh, hey.

Good... it fits.

Perfectly.

- Uh, Neil, this is my sister, Abby. - Hi.

Hello. How are you today, my fine German pussycat?

No. Thank you.

Panther on the prowl.

Where'd you go, baby girl?

Drink?

- Immediately. - Two, please.

- Oh! - Oh, my...

Hey! What's up?

I see. You're playing hard to get.

She's playing hard to get. Wakanda forever.

Let me go get her.

Hey, baby, come back. Chill right here. I don't bite.

Liz, great party. Congrats.

It's a complete disaster. Who fills a place with this much dry ice?

But that's fun. And you know, scary and...

I love the costume.

I'm so embarrassed. We're supposed to be Cleopatra and Mark Antony.

Trick or treat, party people!

Who are you supposed to be?

Marc Anthony. Whoo!

The little Latin singer?

JLo's husband?

They're not even together anymore.

She's with Alex Rodriguez now.

You invited Luc?

Hello, everyone.

- Happy Halloween. - I love the slut costume.

Thank you.

Yours too. I mean, that big belly's incredible.

You look really, really pregnant.

- Not fake! - Not fake?

Not fake.

Uh... due in two days.

I couldn't keep her at home.

I told you, baby, this baby's not gonna change our lives.

That's adorable.

Thank you.

Wow.

Pregnant!

Oh!

- She's pregnant. - I know.

She's adorable.

- Wanna get a drink? Let's get a drink. - Congrats.

- Thank you. - Congratulations.

- Thank you so much. - Thank you.

I'm so happy for you. Wow!

Pregnant? She's fucking pregnant?

How's this even possible? She's barely out of puberty.

Oh, God!

- I don't feel well. - All right, listen. You need a drink.

No, I really don't feel well.

I've had about 50 mini-size candy bars. I've had a bucket of candy corn,

and my ex-boyfriend has impregnated a teenage girl.

Sweetie, here have another antacid.

Are you all right?

No.

No! Okay?

This is what I get for letting you trap me in this torture device!

- Do you want me to take you home? - Yeah.

- Oh. - It's all right. I can take her.

No. I can. I mean, it's just that...

- If you're volunteering... - It's fine.

- You don't have to do this. - Holidate rule number three:

Leave no holidate behind. Come on.

Okay.

All right. Come on, dear. Let's go. Let's go.

You know what, just leave me. Ouch!

- Yeah, okay, no. We're gonna go. Ready? - Leave me, please.

- One, two, three! - No, no, no! No!

Okay.

Come on.

We're almost there.

Oh, my God.

- It's Halloween! - Yeah, hence the costumes.

February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October.

They did it

on Valentine's Day.

Everyone did it on Valentine's Day.

I didn't do it on Valentine's Day!

Neither did I!

They hardly even know each other, and they're already procreating.

It's a mess. Let's go. Come on.

Oh, my God. This is so embarrassing.

- Trust me, I've seen much worse. - How could this get worse?

- Yeah. - My tummy hurts.

- Can I have one more pill? - Yeah.

Oh, shit!

Untie me.

- What? - Just... don't question!

Just untie me!

Come on.

- The laces! Hurry! - What the hell is all this?

I'm trying, okay? I'm trying!

Just rip it.

Okay, just...

You know what? Just rip it.

Just rip my fucking pants off!

You're locked up like Houdini in this!

This is your fault!

Oh, Jesus! Oh, Jesus!

Please don't let this happen to me.

Fuck!

Don't let me be the girl who shits her pants.

Come on, almost there! I'm almost there.

Get it off.

- Shit. Come on. - The door.

- You got it. Come on. We got it. - Shit!

- Come on. You're all right. Close! - Let me go!

- Wait, wait, wait! - I can't! I can't!

Got it!

Oh, no!

Did you make it?

Go away!

Go away!

Don't look at me.

I'm not looking.

Peppermint tea.

Helps with the nausea.

I have peppermint tea?

Uh, sort of.

I mean, it's just crushed Altoids in boiling water.

Hmm.

So, I guess...

I'll be an anecdote you tell at parties now?

The girl who...

The girl who...

The girl who shit her pants on Halloween?

Oh, God.

You know,

technically...

we've all been shitting our pants since we were born.

Don't worry, okay? I'm not gonna tell anyone.

I promise.

Thank you.

I hate, in movies, when people kiss in the morning.

I think it's gross.

Wow.

Yeah.

So, I guess we should...

You can go if you want.

You want me to leave?

I... I mean, if... if... if you want. I...

Don't feel

obligated to stay.

Obligated?

Halloween's over, right?

Right.

Halloween's over.

All right, coming!

I kissed the Black Panther.

- What? - The Black Panther!

I kissed him!

We were standing in line,

you know, waiting for the bathroom, and then it suddenly happened.

We kissed.

Ew! With tongue?

Oh, my God. I'm a horrible person. I'm going to hell a thousand times.

- You're not a horrible person... - Oh, my God! Yes, I am! Yes, I am!

I am a horrible wife and mother,

and I am married to a freaking saint.

Peter is, like, the best man in the whole world,

and this is how I treat him?

I hate myself.

- No... - I can't fucking believe

that I kissed the Black Panther!

Morning, Abby.

Oh, hi.

Hey, um...

I was just telling Sloane about this dream I had last night.

Cool.

Well, I was just leaving.

Wait.

You guys had sex.

No, we didn't.

We didn't?

Oh, I should go. Okay.

No, no, no! You should stay.

You seem... you seem really upset

about your dream.

Yeah. You stay. I'll go.

Okay?

Okay.

Bye.

Okay, bye! See you at Thanksgiving!

What the hell was that?

What?

Nothing.

I'm gonna make coffee.

She practically shoved me out the door.

- She didn't even want to snuggle? - Uh-uh.

- Cuddle? - No.

Go to brunch?

I didn't get a cup of coffee.

Damn, man. That hurts.

Hmm.

You know, I've never been asked to leave.

Yeah, bro. I feel you, okay?

Me and Abby had a real connection, and she hasn't even called.

Do you know what the last thing she said to me was?

"See you at Thanksgiving."

Like, it was completely meaningless to her.

That is cold, man.

But you still got your holidate, right?

- I don't think I can do it anymore. - This is what I'm thinking, okay?

You go to Thanksgiving, and act like nothing has changed.

Okay.

If it makes you feel better, I'll go with you.

- Why? - "Why?"

Me and Abby made a connection, remember?

- Really? - Yeah.

You made a connection

with a married mother of four?

Oh, it sounded bad when you said it like that.

- But if she asks about me... - She won't.

Yeah. Okay.

- But if she does... - She will not.

Whoa.

Okay.

- Let it go. - I'm trying to let it go.

You don't wanna close one door 'cause it'll open another.

Yes, you do. Shut it tight. Lock it.

- If she does... - She will not.

I'm here.

Oh, hello!

Happy Thanksgiving.

- Happy Thanksgiving. - Kisses.

Mwah! Mwah!

Now, meet my new friend, Warren.

- Wally. - That's what I said.

Hi, I'm Abby.

- Wally. Yeah. - Sloane.

Sloane, pleasure...

Ooh! Howdy-ho! Something smells great coming from this kitchen.

May I take a sample?

No.

Maybe later.

I told you, my sister burns everything.

It's not burnt. It's well-done.

That's what basting is for.

It's okay with me.

Kind of like my meat a little crispy.

You didn't invite Faarooq?

Oh, that? Oh, no.

You know me.

One holidate per customer.

But you guys seemed so happy together.

Short and sweet, honey. Everything ends eventually.

So, why sit around waiting for it to happen?

Liz, York. Abby, Peter, me,

Susan, Susan's latest.

Me and Jackson.

Are you sure he's coming?

I don't want to put the leaf in.

Yes.

He's coming.

And he's coming alone, right?

Okay, all right.

- Just put the leaf in. - It's in the basement.

- Mom. - We can use the piano bench.

Just put the goddamn leaf in!

Is everything okay?

Oh! Oh!

Is dinner burning?

I'll call 911.

No. No. It's okay, honey.

Nana just burnt the turkey and stuffing

and hopefully a pie.

- Yams. Not sweet potatoes. - Yeah, I got it.

And cranberry sauce.

Not that hoity-toity crap

- claiming to be whole cranberries. - Yes.

And a pie!

Hi.

Hey.

Hello.

Oh!

We're covered for dessert,

but maybe the neighbors can use it.

I have to go to the store. So, you can...

I'll drive.

Okay.

So...

how have you been?

Good.

Busy.

You?

Good.

Busy.

- Chip? - You know I don't eat that shit.

It's not shit. It's organic.

Are we gonna pretend like what happened didn't happen?

Works for me.

Okay, but for the record, I'm not the one that wanted to leave that morning.

Oh, I didn't hear you asking to stay.

Well, you didn't give me a chance.

Oh, please.

You didn't want to have sex with me in the first place.

Hmm. Come on. Let's go.

You're not even that attracted to me, right?

Why can't you let that go?

Because when a guy basically opens

with the fact he doesn't find a girl attractive,

it kinda sets the tone for the rest of the relationship.

I was some random bloke at the mall.

Honestly, what do you think would have happened

if I'd said, "Hey, I think you're incredibly beautiful!

With these lips that...

beg to be kissed.

These eyes that are...

Honestly, I don't know what they are. They make me forget my name.

There's just no way you would've gone out with me.

Especially, not on New Year's Eve.

So...

does that change anything?

No.

Nothing has changed.

In fact, you can relax

and continue to bang all the cocktail waitresses you want between holidays.

No one is expecting you to drop a knee at Thanksgiving.

Thanks for the update.

At least I'm not the asshole this time.

What is that supposed to mean? You think I'm being an asshole?

Yeah.

- Me? - Yes!

You're trying so hard not to feel anything.

That means you're lying to both of us. And that makes you an asshole.

Well, I'd rather be an asshole

than so desperate for companionship that I troll the mall for a holidate.

No.

You were desperate enough to take me up on the offer.

- Where are you going? - I'm going away.

Fine. Go.

I see another ugly Christmas sweater in your future!

Maybe there is.

But at least I won't be alone,

sitting at the kids table, blaming everyone else for my problems.

And you know what?

I bet you money,

that if Ryan Gosling waltzed down this frozen food aisle,

and offered to take you on the ride of your life, you would still say no.

'Cause you'd be too afraid to get on that train.

The Ryan Gosling train.

You are so wrong!

Ryan Gosling would never do his own shopping!

He's way too cool for that.

Well, I think you should stop being so cheap and buy a new table.

This is Mother's table!

You're just jealous because she left it to me.

Because I didn't want it.

I think it's a beautiful table.

Oh, shut up, Warren.

- Wally. - Wally.

Hey. Where's Jackson?

Uh... don't know. Don't care.

I knew it! No leaf!

Jesus, Sloane, what did you do?

I didn't do anything. What makes you think it was me?

Well, honey, you don't have the best track record.

Maybe you can still apologize?

- Yeah, Sloane. Jack's a good guy. - Whoa. Wait a second.

What makes you think this was my fault?

- If you would be honest with him. - Oh, you want me to be honest?

Yes. Yes. And then maybe, for once,

we could get through a holiday without your personal life ruining dinner.

My personal life?

It's a mess!

It's always a mess!

Okay, well, my "personal life"

might be a mess, but at least I didn't kiss the Black Panther!

You bitch.

- What's the black panther? - Jackson's friend at Halloween?

He was dressed as Black Panther. It was legit.

Wait, what? You kissed the Black Panther?

Barely. It was an accident.

- I didn't see any tongue. - You saw them kiss and didn't tell me?

- You can't keep secrets. - How do you know?

- You know nothing about me! - I was trick-or-treating.

I trusted you. I let you go to a party without me!

I go everywhere without you.

And you never have time for me.

- All you care about is the kids! - One of us has to!

Wally!

- Oh, my God! He's choking! - York, do the Heimlich!

- I don't know the Heimlich. - How can you not?

Step aside! I know the Heimlich!

Stop it! He's not choking! He's having a heart attack.

Somebody call 911.

I'm on it!

- You can ride with us, ma'am. - What? No. We're not together.

- Aunt Susan, go! - You have to come with me.

- No. No, no. - Yes.

You're coming.

Go! Go!

- He's in good hands now. Let's go. - No.

We can't go. Your date just had a heart attack.

I barely know him.

I had to write his name on my arm.

Look.

Hmm.

It's all my fault, you know.

I've had so many opportunities.

I've had so many men that loved me.

Once they got too close, I backed off.

So, here I am at...

age 49.

It's too late now.

Wallace Lupinski?

Is anyone here for Mr. Lupinski?

Faarooq?

Susan.

You're working on Thanksgiving.

Are you here for...

Wallace Lupinski?

Uh...

No.

You sure, 'cause...

Oh, he's a family friend.

How's he doing, by the way?

Mild heart attack,

but he's gonna be fine.

It was nice to see you.

- Say something. - I can't. Let's just go.

No. You have to say something. Say anything, just...

I fucked up!

You're the most amazing man I've ever met.

So, you broke up with me.

I got scared. It's what I do.

Losing you was the dumbest mistake of my life.

Please tell me we can have another chance?

I can't...

imagine...

being happy without you.

- Susan. - Yeah.

I love you.

I love you.

See you, mate.

So, you're stalking him but not actually speaking to him?

Well, I wouldn't call showing up outside his door and hiding "stalking," but okay.

Well, I recommend therapy.

York and I are finally taking off our masks and getting to know each other.

No, thanks.

I like my masks.

It's fate. Go after him.

It's not fate.

The guy practically lives at the mall.

All right! Let's get presents!

Aunt Sloane.

Life is giving you a moment.

Don't fuck it up.

Jackson!

Excuse me, sir. Excuse me. Coming through. Jackson!

Jackson! Coming through.

Excuse me, sorry. I have to talk to that guy over there. Excuse me!

Jackson!

Jackson!

Jackson!

Jackson!

Sorry.

Excuse me.

Excuse me. Pardon me. Jackson!

Excuse me. Pardon me.

- Jackson! - Ma'am.

Jackson!

- Jackson! - Jackson!

- Jackson! - Jackson!

Jackson

Hi.

I just...

Oh!

Thank you.

I just wanna say I fucked up.

Oh, God.

Um, sorry, kids.

Don't say that at home.

Um...

Okay.

What I wanna say is...

Is, um...

It's really, really hot in here.

Huh!

Hot.

Okay.

Look, what I'm trying to say...

Is I've had more fun with you in the last year

than I've had with my loser ex-boyfriends combined.

You were right.

I do have feelings for you.

And I fuck...

...messed it up...

because I was scared.

Aw!

Letting you go

has been one of the biggest mistakes of my life.

I miss you so much.

I miss you so much that I totally quit smoking.

And candy is only mildly comforting.

- You've ruined all my vices for me. - Hmm.

I thought I wanted a holidate,

but the truth is...

I just want you.

For all holidays.

And weekends.

And weekdays too would be nice.

I know I'm probably too late,

but honestly,

you're the only one I'd wanna go through chemo with.

Oh. No, no, no. No. I'm... I'm fine.

It's a long story.

If it's any consolation,

it really was the worst Thanksgiving of my life.

That was an opening, by the way.

Nah.

Aw!

That speech was cockamamie.

Yay!

- How about New Year's Eve? - Yes!