What were you even doing in that crawl space, Charlie?
Well, for starters, I was minding my own business.
I was also trying to do a little light reading,
and then I was putting some cheese in the rat traps.
You were putting the cheese in the rat traps?
- Can I smell your mouth? - Why?
You were eating the cheese, weren't you, outof the rat traps?
No! Well, yes. I mean, I was eating the old cheese
to test it, see why the rats weren't eating it.
Why are you always doing such weird things, Charlie?
I do weird things? Name another thing that you think is weird.
I caught you stealing a bunch of coins out of the fountain at Logan Circle.
I was acquiring a little bit of cash to pay my spy, Dee.
- Why do you have a spy? - To spy the waitress.
- Of course I have a spy. - Is that normal to you?
Shut up and give me my book back, please.
Hey, guys, what book you keep going on and on about?
It's nothing. You don't need to see it.
My God! Whoa!
These are my... these are my memoirs. Charlie, you found my book!
I wrote a memoirs. Hey, guys, Charlie found my memoirs!
Your memoirs?
I've been keeping track of all my sexual exploits,
and I was going to unleash them on the world in a fiery blaze of eroticism.
Slow down a second, Dennis.
- You wrote a book? - It's more of a tale of redemption
- told through my erotic travels. - Giddyup, man! That's amazing.
That's good stuff, right? Yeah.
But then, one day, the book just sort of went mysteriously missing.
Charlie, what the hell were you doing with it?
Well, since he can't read, I'm guessing he was masturbating to your pictures.
- Goddamn! Jacking off to my... - No, no!
That's... Not at all! You know, what are you doing to me?
Why are you doing this? You've been riding me.
Now you're accusing me of things. You just don't get it.
You don't know why I do the things that I do.
It's nuts! You don't know how hard I got it, Dee.
You've got it pretty tough? Your life is pretty hard?
How would you like to walk a mile in my shoes, huh?
Try your old buddy Charlie on for size.
You want me to walk a mile in your shoes
'cause I can't handle your big, tough life? I will.
That sounds fine to me. I will do that.
Oh, my God! Shut up!
Dennis, what's the name of this book?
Dennis Reynolds: An Erotic Life.
"I removed my robe and stood before her..."
taut, nubile, proud.
"She was much, much older than me, but her breasts"
were awesome.
"I felt reborn, baptized in erotic majesty."
- Yeah! - This is some sweet smut!
- I'm all boned up over here. - Me, too!
Dennis, we should try and sell this book.
Personal memoirs are huge right now.
Yeah, yeah. No. I'm going to sell the book, okay,
but I'm not going to let you guys be involved
because, every time you're involved, you get all excited about something,
and then you give up the minute we hit the first speed bump.
You need us, Dennis. You're going to need some legal help.
Legal help? What the hell you talking about, man?
Bro, half the stories you just read us are total bullshit.
They're not bullshit. What are you saying?
Dennis, you were never the personal sexual adviser to Jon Bon Jovi!
And you never woke up in a rehab facility with the wounds of Christ
miraculously appearing on your hands and feet!
Yeah, man, but I did... I banged that girl in the fountain.
That story was true... the hot dog, the oatmeal, everything.
Dude, you don't want to end up like that Million Little Pieces guy, okay?
Oprah made him look like a total dick.
That guy was a turd. I mean, come on.
Just take some of those stories out.
You can't take those stories out. That's the rub!
That's why he needs us.
Because the public loves those crazy celebrity stories and rehab shit.
Okay, well, so what are you thinking?
I'm thinking we take some of the really good stories,
you know... the Jon Bon Jovi, the Christ wound stigmatas...
and we recreate them.
We make them true so that people can't prove that they didn't happen!
My God! Recreate some of the better stories in here,
- and then we have proof! - Yes!
Holy shit, man! That's a good idea.
Now, first things first. We got to figure out how to get you into rehab.
Charlie, do I really have to sleep here?
Dee, if you're going to walk a mile in my shoes,
this is a pretty big part of that mile, don't you think?
- Here. Put these on. - No.
I don't want to wear one of your dirty sleeping outfits.
I'm sorry, Dee, but my "outfits," as you like to call them,
serve a very specific purpose, all right?
This isn't just for fun.
I don't have any heating ducts in this apartment.
It gets freezing in here at night, all right?
Now, in case you have to pee-pee, I got this for you, all right?
- Oh, my God! - Goddamn it!
Frank was supposed to empty that.
Totally, no wonder! It reeks in here!
You have open cans of pee everywhere!
Well, I'm sorry, but you do not want to use that bathroom!
Now, eat one of these, all right?
You're going to want to huff a little glue and drink some beer.
- This is cat food, Charlie. - Dee, I can explain it, all right?
There's some sort of weird chemical reaction that happens
when you combine cat food, beer and glue.
It makes you feel, like, extremely sick and tired.
- You're able to fall asleep. - Why would I want to make myself
extremely sick and tired?
'Cause there's going to be about 50 cats howling outside
that window all night long, and you have no idea how loud 50 cats can be.
Okay, maybe there wouldn't be cats surrounding your building
if you didn't have open cans of cat food everywhere.
I have 50 cats howling outside my window
because I have 10,000 rats running around my building, Dee, okay?!
- Stop yelling. - I'm not an idiot!
There's a reason to do the things that I... oh!
It's starting right on time.
If I were you, I'd start wolfing that shit down.
I got to go to sleep.
Oh, I'm not feeling good at all.
Come play with us forever
and forever, and forever...
Occupado.
Wake up! Let's go! Time to start the day!
- Time to get up! - Charlie! Oh, God!
Oh, God! There's evil twins in the...
in the hallway, and a twitching junkie in...
What? How much of that glue did you huff?
I don't know. As much as you did.
As much as me? Really?
Well, that's probably way too much glue for you, Dee.
Hey, check it out. You just had yourself a glue O.D.,
and those are pretty regular in my life,
so you learned another lesson: Don't do too much glue or your night sucks.
Hold on a second. You're saying that your life is so terrible
because you eat rat cheese and cat food and huff glue all day long?
Uh... yeah.
Those aren't real problems, Charlie.
What do you mean, they're not real problems?
You make those problems up. You choose to do that stuff.
- Those are solutions to problems. - Oh, my God!
You know what? Hold on a second.
We're going to turn the tables here.
You're going to walk a mile in myshoes now,
and you're going to see what it's like to live in the real world
and have actual problems.
Okay. You got some glue on your face, Dee. You might want to wash it off.
Damn it.
Okay, plan is simple.
You're gonna hang out at the rehab facility for a couple a days
while we get the ball rolling with Bon Jovi.
Uh, yeah, I gotta say I'm a little skeptical
about you guys being able to get in touch with Jon Bon Jovi.
What? What do you mean? He's from New Jersey.
- Piece of cake. - Have a little faith in us, please.
Plus, it's easy. We just get you into a room with him,
snap a couple of photos, we got proof, bing-bang-boom, we're done.
Now let's talks stigmatas.
Right. Do we have to do the stigmatas?
Dennis, you know that this publisher is gonna have a fact checker, right?
- Yeah. - You don't want to end up like
the Million Little Pieces guy, do you?
I brought a nail gun.
Is that what that is? Look, you're not gonna shoot nails in me.
No, I think a couple of severe burns
from the cigar is what's gonna do the trick.
No, no, no, you need deep wounds.
- This'll give you deep wounds. - Hold on a second, no!
- Nobody's gonna burn me! - Dennis, calm down! Calm down!
You focus on your art, okay?
Frank and I will handle the business end of things.
If you guys really want to do the stigmata thing...
Okay, good work, Frank.
Now I think we should just probably leave the body right here, right?
And then in the morning, they'll come out and find him.
All right, give me his hands.
So I don't go to a therapist. I just go to bars.
If you walk up to the nearest drunk guy and bup him from behind,
he always turns around and goes, "Hey, man,
what's your problem?".
Dee, this guy is great!
Do you come here every night? Every night, huh? This is great.
Hey, do the have food, too? 'Cause I could go for some food.
No, no, no food. I don't eat when I'm here.
- Well, when do you eat? - I don't.
Why don't you eat dinner, Dee? You got to eat dinner sometime.
Because when you perform, your nerves make you dry heave,
and you'd better hope that you don't have any food in your stomach.
- You gonna perform? - All right.
Now this next lady you all know because she's here almost every night.
Let's hope she's got some new jokes this time.
Everybody, put your hands together
for Deandra Reynolds!
Howdy, howdy, howdy. How's everybody doing tonight?
So, you guys, what's the deal with those hands-free headsets
that everybody's wearing in their ears, right?
It's, like, "Hey, everybody, look at me.
I'm one part robot, three parts asshole".
Jesus Christ!
I mean, am I right...
That's good.
Well, at least it was short and dry this time.
Dee, what are you doing to yourself? That is terrible!
Why would you do that?
You just gotta put in your dues, Charlie, you know?
You gotta take it one step at a time when you want to be an actor.
Just climb to the top.
What? This is about being an actor?
Why in God's name are you still trying to be an actor?
Okay, we all have our hopes and dreams, Charlie.
You're still trying to get with the waitress,
I'm still trying to act. We just do whatever we need to do.
Is it funny? You'd better get ready, guy,
'cause you're next.
...for a newcomer here tonight, Mr. Charlie Kelly!
So, you guys, you ever eat cheese?
Cheese is funny thing. Cheese is a strange thing.
I always wonder, like, "What is cheese? Where does it come...?
We gotta figure out how to get you into rehab.
Let's talk stigmatas.
Deep wounds.
Get you in rehab... Rehab... Rehab...
Yo, punk, wake up, punk.
Yo, punk.
Wake up!
- What the hell? - Yeah, you in hell, all right!
Know what? My name is Sinbad. This is Sinbad's house!
When you in Sinbad house, you my bitch!
Yeah, you know who that is, huh?
That's Rob Thomas from Matchbox 20.
Sing a song. Shut up!
Matchbox 20, ooh.
You the man, huh?
- You gonna punk him like that? - No-no-no!
Stay back, man. No, matter of fact, unleash the fury. Get his shoe!
- What? - Beat his testicles!
No, no, no, don't, don't!
Come on. Rob Thomas and Sinbad,
look, I'm pretty confused about what I'm seeing here, I'm in a lot of pain.
I just don't know what's going on.
Oh, it's the pain, huh?
My bad, I didn't know you was hurting like that. My bad.
'Cause I've hurt before, you've hurt before, we all hurt.
So I'm just gonna break it down. I introduce myself right. That was wrong.
I'm Sinbad. That's my head shot.
I'll autograph it for you a little later on.
And this is Sinbad's house, and you my bitch!
- And I'm gonna show you... - Everything okay in here?
Hey, what's up, Jerome? What you doing?
He keep throwing his shoe. He crazy.
Okay, well, let's go. Everybody should be in bed with the lights off.
We trying to go to sleep. He keep throwing shoes at us.
Man, you about to get me jacked up, man. Is that what you're trying to do?
Shut up! Man, I'll poke your eye out!
See this? This one you, this one Rob Thomas.
I own both of y'all.
Watch your ass, new-meat!
All rightie, then. See you soon. Bye-bye.
- Hey, dude. - I just made a date
- with that girly rock star's people. - Bon Jovi?!
Yeah, he owns the Philadelphia Soul, the arena football team.
I just offered to buy it.
Awesome! All right, now I'm gonna pretend that I have terminal cancer
and get him to do an acoustic set on my deathbed.
Wait, wait, why would you do that?
- You don't have to do that. - No, it's great bro.
Rock stars do the cancer-kid thing all the time.
Look, Frank, you got us into a room with Jovi's people, right?
I'm gonna get us into a room with Jovi himself.
I'm sorry. That's a stupid idea and I don't want you to do it.
Well, I already got a bald-cap guy and everything.
You're just confusing everything.
There's nothing confusing about it, Frank. It's very...
Shut up! Shut your big mouth right now!
I will put my foot down right now.
You are not going in there with that cancer thing,
I don't care what you say! So get it out of your head!
Okay. Jesus, dude, won't do the cancer thing.
Relax.
So, Mr. Reynolds, you're interested in buying our arena football team?
Big time! But I want to do business
with Mr. Von Joni himself.
- Bon Jovi. - Yeah,
Mr. Bovine Joni himself.
I'm offering $40 million for the team.
Well, that is a very generous offer, but, uh,
I must admit I'm a little bit confused about one thing.
What's confusing about $40 million? That's a shitload of money.
It is, it is.
I'm a little confused as to why you've chosen to involve
this gentleman here.
Well, if I may, I'd like to explain to you why I'm here.
Ma'am, I am dying of very terminal cancer,
and I would like to request a private bedside concert
from Mr. Bon Jovi.
Now, Sambora's presence is not necessary,
but it would be nice if he was involved. Question:
Is this a laser pointer?
- Yes. - Can I have it?
No.
- I'm gonna take it anyway. - Please don't listen to anything he says.
- I'll give you $60 million for the team. - Frank, Frank? Thank you.
I got it. We're talking about cancer.
Nobody cares about arena football anymore.
You're not negotiating shit.
We're onto the cancer thing now,
and that is the way it's gonna go from here.
Okay, I'm just gonna throw this out there.
I don't think you have cancer.
What? What are you talking about?
No, that's chemo, that's chemotherapy right there.
For the record, when you go through chemo,
- your beard hair falls out, too. - Are you sure?
- I told you... - I asked a lot of people.
- ...not to do the cancer thing. - I asked my bald-cap guy.
But it was working until you got in with the bullshit numbers.
Goddamn it.
You know, I'm not even really bald?
I have a full head of hair. Not like him.
Not only do I consider it magnificent,
but I have a sneaking suspicion it's pretty good.
His eyes.
Shine it on his dick. Shine it on his dick.
Oh, that's me, that's my phone.
Hey, dude, where you been?
- I'm in rehab, dude. - Oh, yeah.
Hey, that whole Jovi thing went south,
so I think we're just gonna scrap the whole book ordeal.
What are you talking about?
- I got another call, buddy. - No-no, no, don't...!
Hello.
Yo, Bill, what's happening?
- Who you looking for? - Bill. Who's this?
This is Mac. You got the wrong number.
- Oh, my bad. - Yeah, no, it's no problem.
What number were you trying to call?
- Hello. - Frank, you got to get me out of here.
Where are you?
I'm in rehab, goddammit!
Well, I'm in a movie, and this broad's about to get naked,
- so I got to go. - Yeah, no, that's okay.
- Yeah, I thought it was some chick. - Who are you talking to?
I'm talking to Bill.
- And anyway, so... - No, no, no, I'm not Bill, I'm Terry.
Oh, I'm sorry, no, it's Terry.
Sorry about that, Terry. Anyway, this cat people...
Terry? What number did he want?
Will you please shut up?!
- What's that? - I got some dick in a movie theater
- giving me shit. - Why are you turned around like that?
- Nice talking to you. - Yeah, call me back.
I'll talk to you afterwards. Bye.
Give me the laser pointer. Just give me the laser pointer.
- What a jerk. - I know, but watch this.
I'm gonna do it right in the back of his head.
Bro... you wore the battery down.
Well, how am I supposed to use it now? 'Cause you... jerk.
- I'm a jerk? - Yeah, you're a jerk.
You're walking around with that bald cap on all day and I'm a jerk.
It was expensive. I'm sorry, I want to get my money's worth.
Will you please be quiet?!
Who talks like this in the middle of a movie theater?
Hey... hey, you don't know how hard I got it, pal.
You don't know how tough it is being me.
What?
It's not that tough to be you, Frank.
What is so difficult about your life?
Try walking a mile in my shoes once in a while and then talk to me.
"Our eyes locked, our hands touched,
and she whispered in my ear,
'Dude, your balls totally rule'".
What the hell you think you doing, man?!
I heard about this shit!
This gonna stop! Take his book, Rob.
Whoa, wait, man, what...
Come on, man, I was just in the middle of some really erotic stuff.
Yeah, I heard about that shit. You trying to write "memoirs," erotic shit.
You know what? You don't write it, bitch,
- I write it! - What is your problem, Sinbad?
Think you Jesus? You think you Jesus?
Ain't no Jesus here... except
me, I'm Jesus.
What the hell, man?! You stole my thing.
No, no, it's my thing, it's bigger.
Rule of the land: bigger. It's my thing now.
Took it. Bam. Mine.
Fine, but what is Rob Thomas have to do with any of this?
You know, Rob, know what he got to do with it?
He do whatever I tell him to do 'cause he's my bitch, bitch!
Let's get up out of here, man. Get that, we're gonna read some smut.
- Oh, come on, man... - Shut up! Give it to him.
No, I'm playing!
I got to get out of here.
This is my day, and this is where I come at the end of the day
before I head off to Paddy's.
Why do you come to the fountain? The fountain's my thing, Dee.
Well, I'll tell you why I come to the fountain, Charlie.
I come every single day to throw money into this thing
to wish for a better life. Money that you apparently steal
for spys. Okay? So essentialy, Charlie,
you're stealing my dreams, and if you don't mind, I'll go get those dreams back.
That was my spy coins. That's my money anyway.
That wasn't your money.
I mean, that's what I have to go through
- to get laid. - Frank, shut up.
You're just pissed off because I pooled it of better than you.
You don't pooled it of better than anyone.
You better not loose your hair, you ugly bold-hair.
I was ugly as you bitch.
- What are we doing here? - This is the time of de day
- when I come to the fountain. - Why?
When I was a kid, I used to swim in this fountain.
A bunch of bowlings, kick me out. So I waited to this time of the day,
and come back, and pissed in the fountain.
I've been pissing in the fountain for 50 years.
Why are you still pissing in it?
To get back at their kids.
- Crazy, crazy... - You can have a good life with...
Isn't Dee and Charlie?
- Hey, guys, what are you doing? - What the hell...
These are my dreams. They mean something to me.
- Charlie and Dee! Dee! - Hey!
- What are you doing? - I'm taking my dreams back.
- What are you guys doing? - Frank is here to piss in the fountain.
- I do it every day. - Hey, I like you haircut, man.
- That's a great look. - You can't tell that I'm bold.
- Oh, my God! - You can't tell, uh?!
Time out. Did you see where I pissed in the fountain?
Hey, Dennis! What's up buddy, come here!
What you doing?
Oh, I use this fountain for killing powers.
Plus, it's very good for my skins. But that's not the point right now.
You aren't gonna believe this. Sinbad tried to kill me.
- What? - Sinbad, and the other comedians
were in the rehab center and tried to kill me.
And then Rob Thomas, the lead singer of Matchbox 20, was there too.
Did it make sense?
No.
Time out. Time out. Time out.
- Did you, or did you not meet Sinbad? - Yeah, I met Sinbad.
- Can you prove that stuff? - Yeah, it happens minutes ago.
Memoires are back. The story with the doush bag,
the public eats that shit.
- The memoire thing is gone. - You have to go back there.
No, we can go back. That's too dangerous.
No, Dennis, we have to prove, we have to make photos, we have to sign documents.
- I'm a huge Sinbad fan. I've all his... - Sinbad is not the man that...
I am not going back there.
I hope he's writting something on a windbreaker.
- Okay guys, this is it. - What the hell is this?
It's the rehab center.
That's not the rehab center. That's the rehab center.
Well, this is where they drop me after you guys drop me off.
Everybody, you stay close to me.
Okay? You have to protect me.
Because like most comedians, Sinbad is very angry on the inside.
- Come on, come on. - You think he will autograph my shirt?
He will autograph your face until it gets bloody.
It's like... What is this place, dude?
Hey! Oh, hell, no!
We told you to not come back here, freak!
Where is Sinbad?
You call me Sinbad one more time,
- I will knock you out. - What the hell is going on here?
This dude broke in here, running around, talking about memoires and Sinbad.
So you lied to us, Dennis?
No, I didn't lie. I sware to God, it was all real, Sinbad was here, I swear.
- That's it, I'm calling the cops. - You thought that dude was Sinbad.
Maybe that load in the head did more damage that we thought.
- That's not Sinbad, dude. - I know that's not Sinbad.
Is that a sort of sick fantasy?
No, it's not a fantasy, I didn't make it up, Sinbad was here, I sware.
Guess what guys, the memoires is dead, again.
I can believe you didn't meet Sinbad.
You realize how excited I was to meet Sinbad?
That wasn't a comedian, that was some dude in green pants.
I don't know how all this happened, it all seemed so real.
I need to see a doctor.
No, you don't, bitch!
Wake up! Yeah, you in hell, all right!
- I'm Jesus. - What the hell, man?!
You call me Sinbad one more time...
Yeah, I should definitely see a doctor.