Look, Cheryl should be allowed to date whomever she wants.
I mean, we're not together anymore.
My choice. But, uh...
I met the guy. - See ya, Joe-Joe.
He seems like kind of a doofus.
But again, not my business.
Oh, excuse me, sorry.
Hey, Shrub. I didn't do it!
Easy, I come in peace!
Hey, look, I'm starting a computer class for the elderly,
and I thought you might be willing to volunteer.
I know what whizzes you kids are
with technology these days--
Did you get locked out of Facebook again?
No.
This is not for me, okay?
I like to think of myself as not exactly elderly yet,
although this could be a great chance for you
- to meet the older generation. - How much does it pay?
Well, "volunteer" means it does not pay.
But I will provide juice.
- What kind of juice? - Cranberry, apple-grape mix.
I'm listening.
Plus, I upgraded the church Wi-Fi to the supreme package--
Oh, my-- [bleep], yes. I'm in.
The supreme Wi-Fi package is, like, the unicorn of Wi-Fi.
The library had it for, like, five minutes,
but people downloaded so much weird porn
it actually broke the computer.
It's so powerful, you can talk to the future.
Yeah, I had a great date with Jimmy.
And, yes, he is from Pockton.
Apparently, if you live in Flatch,
you have to hate Pockton
and anyone who deals with them.
Honestly,
Flatch could learn a thing or two from the town next door.
I mean, you go to Pockton,
that place is hopping like a frog at a square dance.
They have a store that only sells popcorn.
It's called "Pock-corn." I mean, how cute is that?
Was that a water balloon or a gunshot?
Hello? Ugh.
Oh, hi, Nadine.
Your box was blocking the entryway,
which needs to remain clear, per fire regulations.
Oh, gosh. Well...
I guess it means it's time to check out the entries.
I am running a contest
to come up with a new slogan for Flatch.
I'm gonna put all the entries in the paper,
and then everybody votes.
Oh, okay, I'm not really sure
what's wrong with our current slogan.
Oh, well,
"Home of Colonel Flatch's latrine"
doesn't exactly scream must-see destination.
Okay, well, agree to disagree.
Oh, I'm so excited.
Let's check out our first entry.
Um...
"Flatch, home of Cheryl, unfortunately."
That's dumb.
Ah, let's try another one.
"If you love Pockton so much, you should just move there."
Period, "Cheryl," period.
Mm.
It's not a slogan.
My machine is broken!
Len, how many times do I have to tell you
it's not called a machine and it's not broken?
It is asleep.
Okay. Wake my machine up.
Hey, Kelly, what a great surprise.
I didn't know you wanted to volunteer.
Can't talk, okay?
I'm in the middle of a killer game of "Among Us,"
and I need in on your Wi-Fi.
Where can I plug in?
You absolutely can not
play games here Kelly
Okay, not a game. A lifestyle.
Still a no. But June could use some help.
We have juice.
- What flavor? - Apple-grape.
Uh...
I love apple-grape. Okay.
- Hey, June. - Hey.
I am going to need you to turn
away while I check my emails.
- Okay. - What you got going on here?
Ideas for the Flatch slogan contest.
Oh, yeah? "Flatch is a catch."
It rhymes.
When I win the $100, I'm gonna start a hydroponic tomato farm.
I looked it up on the Google.
- There's a cash prize? - Mm-hmm.
Yeah, I'd say my chances of winning this are pretty high.
Mallets already have a pretty strong track record
of coming up with nicknames for things in this town.
Grody-Ass Pond, Witch Finger Woods,
Lookout.
We're rock stars at choosing good words for stuff.
"Flatch, we should get a cannon
and shoot Cheryl out of it."
Wow, you weren't kidding.
People really hate you. I know.
Someone threw a water balloon at my bedroom window
last night.
What? These are threats.
And you need to protect yourself.
Gosh, it was just one date.
I don't even know if I like the guy.
Ah.
This small bust of Jane Austen could crack a skull.
Put it down here within reach just so you can get it.
Just in case, okay?
So let me ask you do you know any of the following--
judo, Krav Maga, Muay Thai,
a chokehold you put on a pit bull to make him let go,
but you could also use on a man?
Sorry, Mandy, this is so silly.
I am a pacifist. I fight with my words.
You got a strong reflex game. I can work with that.
It's been a week, and we've had some exciting developments.
Bessie has learned how to find recipes online
and that "BDSM" does not stand for "Beef Dinner Small Meals."
Malcolm spent an entire savings bond on a rare Beanie Baby.
And thanks to Shrub, Len got on a dating website,
and he met a lovely woman.
Both Cynthia and I love pie,
conspiracy theories, and sponge baths.
That's her.
Shrub!
That's a teddy bear emoji.
So what do I say now?
Emojis are complicated.
Okay, well, there's one that looks like it's crying,
but it's actually laughing-- that's always good,
especially if it's tilted to the side a little bit.
Fire emoji, that's good.
100, that's, like, also very good.
Clown is bad, okay?
You don't want to get a clown under any circumstances.
What else? Oh, eggplant does not mean eggplant.
Peach is not a peach. Or a cherry.
Pretty much any food item
could really get you into trouble, Len.
Hourglass means that someone is hot,
but not in the way fire does.
And let's see, well, then we get into emoji combinations,
and that's just pretty complicated stuff.
I don't want to hurt your brain.
I'm just gonna say, "Hi, Cynthia."
Safe choice.
Okay. First impressions. Don't think too hard, okay?
"Flatch, just do it."
- I've heard that one before. - Okay, noted.
"Flatch, more than you expected but less than you dreamed."
That's a mouthful.
"Flatch, we're the bomb."
Bombs are bad.
Bessie, like, I swear to God!
I can't with your negativity anymore, dude.
June has some cute ones, and we like hers.
How's it going, June-bug?
Hey, I am having so much fun writing my slogans.
Yeah, you want to show me some?
Oh, no! I erased them all!
I hit escape.
We learned that day one.
Okay, so...
let's say somebody gets behind you, does this.
- Hi. How can I help you? - No. [bleep], no.
I could be your killer.
- Oh, I'm sorry. - No!
Don't apologize to your killer.
Okay, just do me, do me.
Yoke, solar plexus, clench, groin.
If the idiot is still standing,
double fingers up nose.
Wow. How do you know all that?
I trained to be in the Secret Service.
- That's so cool! - Yeah, not really.
Basically, they just wanted you to run next to a car for miles,
and that's not my jam.
Also, I'm not good at keeping secrets.
It's fine.
Punch me in the stomach. Come on.
I'm not punching you in the stomach.
Okay. Fine.
Then just kick me in the coin purse.
Come on, knee me right here in the marble pouch! Let's go.
Are you talking about your genitals?
We need to get you worked up. What--what makes you angry?
Leap day!
Leap day? Yes!
It messes up every line in the calendar for weeks.
Oh, boy.
What about Joe?
Mm-mm, nope. Joe doesn't make me angry.
- Really? - Mm-mm.
The guy hauls you here and then dumps you?
Well, "dump" is a very strong word.
Well, use your own word.
He just needed space.
After he hauled me here.
Oh, my God. Oh!
Saying that out loud it makes me feel really, really--
Angry?
No, really, really...
Violent?
Sad.
Oh, Lord.
Can my plexus have a hug?
Bring it in.
I knew she should cry today.
I just didn't realize it would be this soon.
Oh, hi, Nadine, what can I do for you?
I have come to submit my slogan entries.
They are in double-sealed, marked envelopes, okay?
So there can be no hijinks.
Well, Flatch is the home of hijinks.
Did you just come up with that?
What?
326? The Pockton exchange?
Jimmy calls me every afternoon
to say how do you do.
It's really sweet.
He actually says that. "How do you do?"
And I say, "Do what?"
It's a joke we have.
Do what?
That'll teach 'em.
Call me elderly, but that computer class reminded me
that it's the high time to go through my computer
and remove some documents that I don't need anymore.
- Dude, dude! - What?
I came up with the perfect slogan.
Oh, okay, hit me, hit me, hit me.
Okay, well, you know how I get my best ideas
- when I am on "la toilette"? - Yes?
Wheel socks, edible matchsticks.
Inside gloves.
Different than outside gloves because they're worn inside.
- Go on. - Okay, okay.
Get ready to have your mind blown.
Okay. Hit me, hit me, hit me.
Okay, the winning slogan is,
"Flatch, come bask in our Flatch-ulence"!
- Dude, that's brilliant. - I know, right?
Okay, so when you see that slogan in the paper,
I'm gonna need your vote.
Flatch-ulence sounds dirty to me.
Does it, Bessie? Or does it sound brilliant?
No. It sounds dirty.
Fine. Here.
A dollar for each of you.
I didn't want to stoop to bribery,
but if that's what it takes, so be it.
So rule number one of successful business growth
is sometimes you have to spend a dollar
to make a whole bunch of dollars.
Rule number two is you need to sit on the toilet a lot.
Shrub, I need help with my machine.
Len, I told you.
No one is buying your old pants on eBay.
I'm trying figure out how to wire money to Cynthia.
Why are you trying to do that?
She wants to buy a plane ticket to come to visit me.
But in Estonia, you can't get into your bank account
without giving them $3,000.
It's all rigged.
Anyway, the bank headquarters is in Nigeria,
and there's the routing number.
Oh, no, uh, no, no, we can't do that.
Um, you can't wire money over the Internet on Tuesdays.
Oh.
That's "Cynthia." She's pretty.
No, he's being catfished right now.
No, it's a scam. Look.
They're using stock photos of Miss Estonia 2006.
- Oh, this is bad. - Yeah.
He's about to send $3,000 to her,
or to him, or whoever in Nigeria.
Whatever. Well, what do we do?
Well, I don't think we have a choice.
We got to tell him the truth.
I mean, it's gonna hurt, but it's better that he knows now.
Man, it sucks when people prey on the elderly.
Eh, depends.
Hey, Shrub, I checked.
That no wiring money on Tuesdays--
total fake news.
You got to watch out for those internet scams, Shrub.
Yeah.
Len, we have something we have to tell you.
Yeah, about Cynthia.
There's nothing you're gonna say about that woman
that'll make me love her less.
When--when Martha passed...
I didn't think I was ever gonna find love again.
Who'd have thunk it? I mean, an old man like me?
- She's dead. Cynthia's dead. - What?
What?
What happened?
- Train accident. - She drowned.
Yes. Yes, yes, that's right.
Yeah, she had just passed her conductor's test,
and she, uh, she went out to celebrate
and she got, like, so loaded, and--
Yeah.
You know the rest.
No, I don't.
Sh...
She drove that train right into a lake.
- Lake. - Yeah.
Mm. Of course.
She was a train conductor, too.
Oh, that woman could do anything.
Except swim.
Yes.
All she had was me.
How will she be remembered?
Probably as a woman who drove a train into a lake.
She had no family.
There'll be no memorial service or anything.
I'm so sorry, Len. I know this is hard.
We need to give her a funeral.
Yeah, that's right. Mm-hmm.
We do?
That would be the proper thing to do.
Right, Father?
So, yeah, we're shopping for a funeral
for a made-up person from a made-up country.
Uh, Estonia is actually real. I looked it up.
Well, there's no Estonian soccer merch,
so color me a doubter.
Father Joe basically gave us a ton of church funds
and seeing as this is my fault,
I thought we should we should go all out.
Whole town's gonna come.
Everyone shows up when they know
there's gonna be free cake.
Yeah, we got streamers, a piñata--
I should be out campaigning for my new slogan,
but instead, here I am shopping for funeral glitter.
I believe that every living thing
deserves a dignified death, even if they're made up.
Like, one time, we were driving to Dayton
to this monster truck rally, and Kelly just hit this deer.
And she was like, "Oh, no, we have to keep going.
We're gonna miss the opening horn."
And I was like, "No, no. We need to honor this animal.
"And we need get out
and kick these pieces of deer into the ditch."
And that's what we did.
Hey, I need your help.
Which one do I wear to Cynthia's funeral?
Cynth--Oh, is that the Estonian model Cynthia?
Someone sent in an obituary for her.
Ech, that train accident is tragic.
Yeah, she doesn't exist.
Len got catfished online, everyone feels bad,
so we're throwing a funeral for her.
A made-up funeral? Yeah.
Funeral's real, lady's not.
Oh, got it.
It said on the e-vite "Estonian casual,"
but what the does that mean?
There was an e-vite?
Yeah, whole town got it. Didn't you?
- No. - Wow.
Whatever. I didn't get invited to a fake funeral.
Whoop de doo.
- You want to be my plus-one? - You got invited with a date?
Our love was brief, but it was strong.
I only wish I'd been able to...
ride her train.
Well, uh, not the last one.
Uh...
Gunnar and the Dragons. Estonian pop sensation.
♪ ♪
Thank you, Len.
That was lovely.
We didn't know Cynthia,
but we're all here because Len loved Cynthia.
And we love Len.
Thank you.
Love is the memories of the person you lost,
memories of your first meeting, real or virtual.
Your first date...
when you realized
that you both love Grease 2
more than Grease the original...
that time you split the gas station sushi
and you both Giardia.
Are we talking about Cynthia?
Yeah, he's going off-book, he's going off-book.
Go, go. Get him.
You can still love that person,
even if they're not with you anymore
and you have to eat the tickets
to the Columbus Stomp Your Own Wine Gala.
Very moving, Father, very moving stuff.
Okay, now, if no one else has anything to say,
we'd like to invite you into the Emerson room, okay?
For some cake and mulgipuder,
which, I guess, is something Estonians make
with sausage, but we used hot dogs.
Also, let's not forget,
vote for Kelly Mallet's slogan in the paper.
I'd like to say something!
Quick. Yep, yep, okay. Thank you.
Hi, I'm--
Go back to Pockton!
- PERSON 2: Yeah! - PERSON 3: Mm-hmm.
Look, I-I didn't know Cynthia, um, but, uh...
I am her.
I mean, a single woman of a certain age
just trying to make a go of it in a very small town.
And believe me, not easy.
I'm sorry I went on a date with a guy from Pockton.
But don't we all deserve love?
And if you have to find that on the Internet or one town over,
I mean, who are we to judge?
I might even go to Pockton again.
But that does not mean I don't like Flatch,
because I do, I really do.
I mean, I love how, when I first moved here,
June dropped off a crab casserole on my doorstep.
I didn't find it till the next morning,
so it smelled like death,
but what a beautiful thought, June.
I love how Blind Billy knows me just by touching my butt.
Uh, Cheryl?
I used to find that so creepy.
Now I think it's very sweet.
And my new friend, Mandy,
she has designed a very special tattoo for me
of Elizabeth Cady Stanton,
my all-time favorite suffragette.
That could be a power statement.
We'll get that on you real soon.
Yeah.
So busy, but, yeah.
I love that you all care so much
to throw a funeral for a woman who isn't even--
she doesn't-- she's not from here.
So here's to Cynthia and to all the single women
who are just trying to live their best lives.
Because if you're gonna uproot your life for love,
Flatch is so not the worst place to be.
Whoo! Yes!
After my speech, there was a groundswell of votes
for the new slogan, and, um...
I guess I won!
- Hi, neighbor! - Oh, hi, June!
So the contest was rigged, obviously.
But good news is I already ordered a ton of merch,
so I'm still gonna make bank.
What size are you? Uh...
What size are you? Medium.
Medium? Okay. Was that so hard?
It's gonna be 30 bucks, okay?
No!
Oh, my gosh, I am so sorry.
Why you hit me in the plexus?
No, I thought you were, like, a predator or something.
- Can I help you? - No, no! Don't touch me!
Cynthia?
You stay away from me!
You're real!
Stay away from me!
But Len's gonna be so happy!
It's Cynthia!
Crazy lady!
You must be so jetlagged!
Just stay back!
Okay, well, go relax.
Settle in.
What is with this town?