Good morning! Who wants pie? Maya, Randy?
Guy with a serious face but a whimsical scarf?
Why are you coming to a donut shop with pie?
It's 8:00 a.m.
What, can't a guy treat himself to a little breakfast pie?
Nadine broke up with him. Oh, no.
What happened?
No idea. She just called me up
after two months of dating and said it's over.
But it's cool.
It's not cool. He's devastated.
Not devastated.
Fine. Despondent.
I... I'm not despondent.
I mean, yeah, sure, I just finished a painting
of our bodies merged together forever,
but I'll just set it on fire.
Just like Nadine did to his heart. Cherry?
Please.
So meet my new girlfriend, pie.
You ain't never gonna leave me.
I know I should feel sad for him.
But now there's gonna be more Franco-Sweatpants time.
We can finally take that trip up to Michigan wine country.
Will you guys watch my laptop?
I have to feed the meter.
My dad says if I get one more parking ticket
he's gonna stop making my car payments,
and this is not the relatable problem I thought it was
when I started talking.
So if somebody comes in and grabs her laptop and runs,
we're supposed to chase 'em?
Yeah, we hang out in a donut shop.
What kind of shape does she think we're in?
Yeah.
Maya's always banging away
on that dissertation.
Wonder what it's about?
Probably boring young girl stuff nobody cares about.
Hey, our names are in here.
Let me see, let me see, let me see.
This whole thing's about us.
Superior Donuts, A Case Study on the Effects of Gentrification
on Interclass Social Bonding.
So all the time she's been hanging out here,
she's been writing about us?
Hey, come on, what are you doing?
You're not supposed to be reading that.
Oh, yeah, that's an invasion
of her privacy. According to this,
she's been invading our privacy all year.
Fawz, you're in here.
Fawz Al-Shahrani is a ruthless businessman...
She gets me.
... who is so devoid of compassion and humanity
he's incapable of forming meaningful friendships.
That's a little strong.
Right?
Hello?
Anyone?
All right, here's me.
Carl Tushinski is a disenfranchised
middle-aged male, unable to get a full-time job,
cast adrift in a world that's passed him by.
I got lost in the words, but her tone seems hurtful.
Look, I know it's cool to learn what a schoolgirl
with no life experience thinks about you,
but just walk away.
Randy, she calls you
warm and nurturing, the bridge
that connects the inhabitants of the shop.
That's so sweet!
Scooch over.
You sure she doesn't say Sweatpants is the bridge?
She doesn't mention my name in there anywhere.
And I've been through so much, with the... the... blonde girl.
Here comes Maya. Maya!
All right, if anybody wants
some pie, I left it in the kitchen. I've had enough.
Just like Nadine had enough of me.
Maybe she'd like me more if I was a pie.
That's impossible, you're not a pie. You a man.
How do you know you're having a breakdown, you know?
I'm gonna have some more pie.
I can't believe Maya didn't me put in her paper.
I got to get another look at that computer.
I told you last night, let it go.
Maybe I should hack her mainframe.
Only problem is
I don't know how to hack.
And I'm not sure what a mainframe is.
Why do you care what Maya thinks?
Because she's just so judgey.
Like a pecker bird who just peck, peck, peck, peck,
peck, peck, peck, peck. Uh, thank you, thank you.
I know what a pecker is.
Uh, pecking birds.
Uh, woodpeck...
She doesn't know me. I'm perfectly capable
of being friends with someone.
Hey, Sweatypants, where you from?
Um, you know, actually, I was born in Maryland, and I was...
See? Friends.
And I can totally hold down a regular job.
That's why I got the want ads.
I'm just gonna circle anything that's promising, and I'm done.
What happened to the want ads?
The Internet. But you know what, I can set you up a profile
on one of those job search Web sites.
And while I'm at it, I'll just swing by Nadine's Facebook page
and see what she's up to.
Oh, look, the bitch is having sushi.
Hi, guys.
Morning, Maya.
Here, have a donut.
I only had one bite.
Listen, Arthur said he's gonna turn off the water later,
so if you got to go to the bathroom,
you should go now.
I'm... I'm-I'm good, but thanks.
Suit yourself.
You know what, better safe than sorry.
Good thinking. Brilliant.
Okay, find Sweatpants.
Nothing.
Maybe she spelled Sweatpants with two words.
A lot of my mail comes that way.
Hey, hey!
What did I tell you? Get away from there.
That's easy for you to say, you're all over this thing.
A curmudgeonly father figure. A widower.
He once told me that every Sunday
he takes flowers to his late wife's grave.
Oh! You are so lucky.
I didn't know that.
Well, now you do.
Well, is that where you rush off to every Sunday?
What's with the third degree?
You know, some things are private, okay?
Oh, God, are you still doing this?
You know, there's a lot of stuff
in that computer I never heard.
You know, like, did you know Arthur
visits Joanie's grave every Sunday?
Oh, that's really sweet.
Also impossible, since Joanie was cremated.
What? Yeah.
I was there when Arthur spread her ashes
over Wrigley Field.
It was so beautiful.
And kind of gross.
Some of it blew back on our nachos. Ugh.
Why would he tell that to Maya?
And, more importantly, where is he going off every Sunday?
Definitely suspicious.
96, 97,
98... Oh, hey, Maya.
99, 100.
Sweatpants.
One word.
Okay, kid, time to close up.
And don't forget to dump the day-old donuts.
♪ Day-olds! ♪
Hey, it's nice to see you getting over your breakup.
♪ Nadine dumped me, said I had to go home. ♪
Spoke too soon.
All right, it's Sunday night.
He's getting ready to leave.
Have you seen any clues as to where he disappears to?
No. I mean, I think it's just so weird
that he would lie about where his wife is buried.
I mean, what else has he lied about?
Is his last name even Przybyszewski?
I don't think that's something you'd lie about.
Mmm.
This whole thing is so unlike him.
It's not like he's a man of mystery.
Even though he is shaped like a question mark.
Jake.
Arthur.
What are you doing here?
I was in the neighborhood.
I thought we could take a little walk.
Okay.
Who the hell was that?
I don't know, but we better follow him
before Arthur's sleeping with the gefilte fishes.
Okay.
I don't see him. You sure he came this way?
Yeah.
Saw him come down these steps.
Man, why is Arthur in a Catholic church anyway?
I thought he went to Jewish church.
Well, maybe he's doing a little religion comparison shopping.
People his age do that when they get closer
to the check-out line. Mm-hmm.
Maybe he's in here. Let's look.
Oh, no, no. Uh-uh. I feel a little weird
spying on someone in church.
When I was in the ninth grade
I was making out with Tony Delvecchio
in the confessional when the priest came in.
Then I had to confess my sins
while simultaneously committing at least three more.
So I figure I'm on thin ice with God.
Wow. Well, I'm not. Me and God are like this!
And that, my friends, is a true story.
He's in a circle with a bunch of people.
Now they laughing and clapping.
Oh... Oh, this is worse than I thought.
I think Arthur's taking an improv class.
Thanks for the share, Bob.
Who'd like to go next?
Okay.
Uh, hi, my name is Arthur,
and I've got a gambling problem.
Hi, Arthur.
It's been four years since
I placed my last bet.
And I only miss it during the playoffs.
And the regular season.
And the preseason.
And the draft.
It's a support group.
Arthur's a gambler.
You mean like Kenny Rogers?
Uh, let's get out of here. I never should've come. Come on.
No, no, no, no, no. You're in the right place.
We're gonna help you get through this.
No, no, man, I was just checking up on my friend, man.
I don't have a problem. Ah. That's what they all say.
Randy?
Sorry. I'm a bridge, not a spy.
Hey, everybody. I got a newcomer.
Franco.
Hi, Franco.
What the hell you doing here?
I walked in the wrong room.
It's... What are the odds?
Sorry.
But it won't happen again, you can bet on that.
I'm leaving now.
Good morning. Donut and coffee to go, please.
To go? Yes, sir.
I got a full-time job at a call center.
You are looking at a customer service representative.
Oh? Of what?
I have no idea.
But I would be happy to transfer you to someone
who can answer all of your questions.
Oh, you're looking good, Tush.
You got a court date in a small Southern town?
It's from the fancy section at Kohl's.
It's behind the luggage,
so a lot of people miss it. Oh.
Morning.
Look, I ran off last night before I could tell you...
I'm sorry.
Well, you should be. And you had no right
to trail me.
At least you're not doing improv.
You don't have to hide anymore, Arthur.
I'm glad you're getting help.
If there's something I could do to help you...
Look, that's none of your business, okay?
But we're friends, man.
I tell you everything.
Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn't.
That's the trouble with your generation.
You need to share every detail of your lives.
Here's a selfie of me and my patty melt.
Aren't I fascinating?
That was hurtful.
Look, I'm just saying that
there has to be some boundaries between you and I, all right?
I'm the boss, you're the employee.
We don't have to tell each other everything.
Fine.
And FYI, that patty melt was delicious.
Coffee to go, please.
Tush, my good friend.
Tell me how your new job is going.
Okay,
but I'm on a 15-minute break.
It would've been a 20, but somebody
took Fat Shirley's macaroni salad from the fridge,
and Regular Shirley's getting the blame.
So, of course, Gay Ted called a meeting about it.
Delightful. Can you please put that in an e-mail
so that I can savor all the details?
Oh, thank you.
Bye, Fawz.
Get off my back! I'm trying!
You know, I can't believe Arthur kept this secret from me.
I thought we were supposed to be friends.
You mean the way you were my friend
when you ditched me in a church basement?
That's how horror movies start.
Nadine.
Franco.
Sorry I haven't returned your calls.
It's cool.
It's all right.
Just thought you, uh, lost your phone
or choked on a piece of sushi or something.
What I need to say to you,
I need to say in person.
And in private?
All right, let's go in the kitchen.
Hmm.
Gee, I, uh, wonder what's going on in there.
Maybe I should go in and do my bridge thing.
No, no, no, no.
She wanted privacy.
I know how to find out what's going on.
You're not going in there, are you?
Arthur, give me some credit.
I'm going to hold this up to the door and listen.
No, no. No, you're not.
Come on, Arthur.
This is more exciting
than the time Gay Ted brought his wife to work.
Now look, they went in there because they wanted privacy,
and that's exactly what we're...
What? It's Nadine.
I think she's crying.
And that's none of our business.
Wow.
She's really losing it. But that's between them.
Oh.
I mean, full-on waterworks.
No, Sweatpants.
Get a bigger one.
I'm sorry. It's just...
It's so hard to tell you.
Just come out and say it.
Franco...
I'm pregnant.
What? What happened?
One of them is pregnant.
And I think it's Nadine.
Franco and Nadine are having a baby.
No, they can't.
They're so young.
Well, sure, they start out young,
but before you know it, they're walking and talking...
No.
I'm talking about Franco and Nadine.
They're not ready for this.
Ha! Tell me about it.
I mean, the four of us in that tiny studio apartment?
And you know who's going to end up doing all the work.
I just hope Franco knows what he's getting into.
I mean, how well can he even know...
Nadine!
Hey, girl.
Hey, Arthur.
Yeah.
I don't think those were tears of joy.
Why does everyone look so shocked?
Nadine's pregnant.
Come on, Fawz, you can do this.
Really?!
Franco, I just heard
about your baby.
Congratulations, man!
How do you even know a...
Were you listening to my conversation?
No, I heard it from Tush.
You were eavesdropping?
Uh, Arthur told me.
You were eavesdropping?
No.
Okay, yeah.
I heard crying, so I got concerned.
I mean, this is life-changing, kid.
I-If you want to talk about it...
I don't.
I'm-a tell you the same thing
you told me three hours ago.
You're the boss, I'm the employee.
It's none of your damn business.
Hey, you're the guy that followed me
to my gamblers' group.
Oh, you like to gamble? 'Cause I got some guys
I play poker with if you want in.
No.
What's the buy in?
He meant a support group.
Well, how do you know that?
Were you spying on me, too?
Y-Yeah, but only because...
What did you tell him?
What, there's no respect for privacy in this place?
Yeah.
Looks like this place could use some boundaries.
Randy, I thought you were better than that.
Yeah, and I thought you were my friend.
Why would you lie about going to visit Joanie's grave?
When did I say that?
In Maya's dissertation.
What?
How do you know what's in there?
Tush read it.
Thanks a lot.
You're as bad as Loudmouth Shirley.
How many Shirleys work at this place?
How dare you read that? That's private.
Oh, that's rich
coming from the woman who's been spying on us.
I'm not spying on you.
I-I'm studying you.
I can't believe you think I'm some pathetic loser
who can't get a job.
And I'm some heartless businessman
who doesn't care about his pathetic loser friends.
You don't know what you're talking about.
All right, everybody. That's enough.
I know we're all upset, but Maya has never treated us
with anything but kindness and caring.
So let's not jump down her throat
until we hear what she has to say.
Thank you, Randy.
Now talk fast.
I'm not sure how long this bridge is gonna hold.
Look, what you read... I wrote that months ago.
Those were my first impressions.
But-but then I got to know you.
Like, look.
Read.
When I met Carl,
"I considered him a sad failure"
Not a great start.
But by creating a life for himself
outside the nine-to-five workforce,
he is one of the happiest,
and therefore most successful,
people I have ever known.
You really think that?
I do.
So do I.
Hello, Gay Ted?
This is Carl.
Bald Carl.
Listen, I quit.
And tell Fat Shirley to lay off Regular Shirley.
I'm the one that ate her macaroni salad.
And Fawz.
Despite his ruthless demeanor,
Fawz has exhibited moments of true caring and friendship.
Aw.
Happy now, you jerk?
I am.
But also exhausted.
How are you people so nice to each other all the time?
What about me?
I didn't even get one mention.
That's not true.
This is the conclusion.
I wrote it this morning.
Actually, Arthur,
why don't you read it?
You couldn't find a smaller font?
Ah...
Superior Donuts is a gathering place
where people, regardless of race, age and background,
have found a refuge in an otherwise impersonal city.
This is best illustrated
by the unlikely friendship between Arthur and Franco.
Arthur provides his young employee
with a stable home beyond the apartment
he shares with his roommate,
a free-loading slacker named Sweatpants.
I'm in the book! Okay.
Here.
You think you're gonna make everything right
by giving me some lame-ass gift?
It's not for you. It's for your kid.
I will love him no matter what.
But please, God, don't let him be a White Sox fan.
Thank you.
I can't take it.
Look, I know what I said about boundaries,
but, you know, I realized that like it or not,
you and I, we're way past that.
The thing is...
it's not my kid.
What?
Apparently Nadine was engaged to this guy,
and he broke it off with her.
I was the rebound.
Wow, that's tough.
Oh, come on. You're too young to have a kid, anyway.
You barely can take care of Sweatpants.
Look, I, uh, I'm sorry I eavesdropped.
I was gonna tell you anyway, man.
I was just...
It's humiliating. You know?
No, I get it.
That's why I didn't tell you about my gambling.
I was afraid you wouldn't look at me the same.
And I kind of like to think
that you look up to me.
Huh.
That's weird, 'cause I always thought
you looked up to me, but whatever.
So, you gonna be okay?
Eventually.
Oh, I got pies stashed all over this bitch.
Oh.