Yes!
He went to wipe it away, and she said, "No. Leave it."
And there it lay, like a raindrop, tremulous,
quivering...
on the hood of her father's beloved Aston Martin.
Okay.
Ugh! My car's doing that thing
where if I take my hands off the steering wheel
for more than, like, ten seconds at a time,
it starts dripping all over the rug.
This came for you.
What?! We can litter in our own front yard now?!
So...
my boss wants me to take this new client out.
Oh, I swear to God, the last thing I need
is another crazy high-maintenance musician.
Oh, my God! I just got some video of a raccoon
running down our street with two fistfuls of Chinese food.
The Internet is gonna go bonkers for Chow Mein Raccoon.
Oh, hey, this came for you.
I know. It's trash.
What is it? My father's ashes.
Oh, I have to!
Okay.
Oh!
Oh, Jimmy! Ew! Ew!
It's all chunky!
Oh, there's a note.
Oh, hey, guys, sorry, I-I don't have
my pot card yet, so...
Eject.
"Shitty Jimmy,
here's Dad's ashes.
He wanted you to have a memorial for him,
because you're rich and talk good."
- You gonna do it? - Absolutely.
I'm gonna just stop writing my book because
my father thinks I should throw him a memorial service
despite forgetting my birthdays five through 33.
Quick, let's rent the Coolhaus truck!
Jimmy, you know I'm here if you ever want to...
Have sex? Great. Let's go.
Okay. But I have a meeting later.
So just keep me clean from... here up.
This...
is Raul.
He's interested in playing with us.
So, we're all playing?
Well, you'll be watching me and Raul playing.
And absolutely, down the line...
we could do whatever your thing is.
- Well, actually... - Yeah, down the line.
I don't know if I can do this.
I mean, I don't even like
watching other men put gas in my car.
- But you said! - I'm sorry. I just can't.
Maybe we could get a couple's massage.
Or I saw a Groupon
for boudoir photography.
I could wear a fedora.
You could be my client
whose legs go all the way down to the floor.
That sounds...
fine.
May I have this dance?
See?
We still have spark.
I'd dip you, but my stitches might pop out.
Honestly, Gretchen, I never cared about publicity.
I mean, I was always just Ben Folds,
regular guy from North Carolina who plays piano
and smokes a pretty decent pork shoulder.
Anyway, since I've relocated to L.A.,
I guess I have to play the game now.
So here we are.
I got to say,
I was half expecting you to be another high-maintenance diva.
Oh, no, you're probably thinking of Ben Kweller.
I'm so sorry, but I-I really love your music.
- No, no, no, no, I'm sorry. - It means a lot to me and my son.
- Mr. Folds and I are in a... - It's okay, it's okay.
- What's his name? - Uh, Riley.
Riley. And what's Riley's thing?
He's, uh, pretty into baseball.
Yeah?
Wow! I had no idea you were also an artist.
You're everywhere, man!
Well, maybe I'll run into you again.
Wow! You were so nice to him.
A girl once asked my client Sam for his autograph,
and he threw her crutches into traffic.
Oh, I don't know about all that, Gretchen.
I-I'm just a regular guy from North Carolina
who plays piano and smokes a pretty decent pork shoulder.
Got to say, Dad, the work is flowing
like it's never flowed before.
Okay.
Settle in.
"Normally, she hated to be on top.
She liked the weight of a man pressing down on her,
the liberation of not having real agency in the shameful act.
But to be astride the man was the only way she could keep
her gaze trained on the two-way mirror.
Because when Kitty looked into her reflection"
and met her eyes,
she knew she was also meeting Simon's eyes.
Her brother's eyes."
Whoa!
You did not see that one coming, did you?
Okay, that's it, we're having a funeral.
Your butt's gonna have a funeral when I'm through with it.
Jimmy, clearly you need some closure.
My therapist told me about this.
Apparently, if you don't deal with your emotional crap,
it can mess your shit up later.
Fine.
Uh, we'll invite a few people over,
and then call it a day.
- You have to make a speech. - Ack!
The note said you talk good.
Everybody know Jimmy talk real good.
Next we have Item 7-A, which is the reading...
Whoa! What?
What?
Okay.
City Council Member Todd Winterer
initiated legislation regarding a bus accident,
but Council Member Pam O'Connel abstained.
Pam O'Connel!
Who recommended the purchase
of two natural gas street sweepers.
But guess who voted nay.
Todd Winterer.
Now, ask yourself why.
Well, because...
That must be the food.
Oh, my.
You're not the food delivery person.
Paul. What's going on?
Lindsay, I know how important this is to you, so...
I found the gentleman you picked out on the Web site.
We FaceTimed, and he's very nice.
He goes to Loyola Marymount.
Go Lions.
Paul.
Anything for our family.
Okay, so I don't know how this works.
Is there, like, a discussion about what's appropriate?
Or, uh...
- Go sit over there. - Okay.
So what I found is that marijuana really helps me
with my symptoms, and I-I was just wondering
if there's some sort of form I could fill out to make sure
that it doesn't interfere with my other benefits.
You just walked into a government building
and asked if we'd be cool with you taking illegal drugs.
Maybe on your way home you can stop at the DMV
and ask if they'll let you steal some cars.
Well, pot is legal in California.
Oh.
You mean the independent nation of California?
Is that the army you fought for?
The Army of California?
How'd they pay you?
Avocados and screenplays?
Wait. So are you saying that I can't use marijuana medicinally,
even though it's legal in this state?
I said no such thing.
So I can use it?
I don't know.
All I know is that...
marijuana is a Schedule 1 narcotic.
And you're asking me,
a government employee, if you can take it.
Let's call the police and ask them.
- No, they won't have... - Hey, police.
Which federally illegal drugs
can this guy take that will be cool with the V.A.?
They want to talk to you.
Number 83.
Is that your eulogy?
Of sorts.
I've prepared a list of heckles.
Jimmy, shouldn't a eulogy be heartfelt?
All my father ever did was take the piss.
But I like the area you're in.
How about, "Dad, I hope you truly do rest in peace"?
Oh.
As opposed to how you usually rest,
in a pair of urine-soaked sweatpants.
Jimmy!
It's me, Freddy.
I worked with your dad at the plant.
Oh, yes, now I remember you.
You and dad used to show up at school
and heckle me during gym class.
- What do you want? - I live in Fresno with me daughter now.
Your sisters want me to follow up with you.
Apparently, you blocked their numbers,
and they want me to tell you:
A, you're to have the funeral;
B, to make sure to scatter his ashes;
and C, don't fall into any shit.
Ah! Well, tell them:
A, we're already having a service tomorrow;
B, I will scatter his ashes, into the toilet;
and, C, you're grossly obese,
brush your teeth, and you're a whore...
In descending chronological birth order.
Brilliant! Oh.
I also have something I'd like to read about Ronny,
if it's okay with you.
Actually, that sounds great.
Yeah, tomorrow at 7:00. And bring something to drink.
If it's rosé, just keep it Cotes de Provence.
And maybe some ice.
Cotes de Provence, ice.
- Well, I'm off the hook. - What do you mean?
We'll have the wake,
that old fart will do the eulogy and bring ice.
It's perfect.
When Raul was doing me from behind,
and I was thrusting my hips, that was so hot, right?
Oh, look.
There's a bowl of candy in a quadcopter.
Entertain yourself.
Ben? What are you doing here?
Your office said you'd recently experienced a loss.
- So I wanted to bring some flowers. - Oh.
And, of course, some of my famous pork shoulder.
- Oh. - It's just what you do.
May I ask who passed?
Oh, my boyfriend's father.
Oh, gosh, oh, no.
That's terrible, terrible news.
I'm incredibly close to my Papa.
Funerals are so important.
- Who's playing? - Playing music?
Oh, uh... no one?
I've got my piano in the truck.
Okay, sure, that's...
incredibly generous of you.
Thank you, my love.
Whoops. Bubbles.
Can't risk another epiglottal infection.
I'll just run and swap this out.
Something is up with you two, and I don't like it.
- What's going on? - You'd be happy, too,
if you weren't so poor now.
Because you're my sister, and I love you,
I'll go sneak some spanakopitas into my purse
and give them to you later, so you can feed your baby.
Hey, do you have any weed?
I can't afford it with this stupid budget Becca's got me on,
so I've been smoking dried banana peels.
Why don't you just get a pot card?
The V.A. says it'll mess with my benefits,
but it's, like, the only thing that helps, so...
I don't know what to do.
The doctor in me is like,
you're the patient, take what you've been prescribed,
you dumb little bitch.
Yeah, that's what I figured.
But the human in me is like,
"Smoke that ganj, yo."
Real talk? It's bullroar that you can't get a pot card.
You went to war.
And straight berserkered on fools.
That's an actual reason.
Like, everyone at this party has a pot card for a dumb reason.
Gretchen said she had insomnia.
Lindsay said her back hurt.
Piano fingers.
What reason did you use?
I just said I saw a dog.
- Did you? - No, man. Total lie.
I didn't see a dog all day.
Well, on TV, sure.
You can't turn on a TV without seeing, like, or four of them shits.
Hello. Thank you all for coming to the memorial service
for my father, Ronny Overly.
His friend Freddie will do the eulogy,
we'll toast, and then you will leave.
Cheers.
Cheers, everyone.
Ronny Overly was not only my coworker.
He was my hero.
He cherished his family,
especially his son, Jimmy.
I remember when I came out to visit Jimmy.
Oh, bloody hell.
This was supposed to be in the third person.
"Oh, well. Ha, ha. It's me, Ronny.
I wrote this in pen, so I might as well keep going.
I just realized Freddie has to read whatever I say.
My name is Freddie, and I'm a..."
I'm not reading that.
Skipping forward.
"Anyway, I did my best to love him, but he rejected me.
I sent him presents, I visited,
I Facebook-requested him.
Anyway, I forgive him.
Please scatter my ashes at the home of actor Tony Shalhoub,
whose movie Big Night you and I attended together.
What's that, Fi?"
I think it's "Shalhoub."
"Your sister just told me he's a Paki.
Shit. Anyway,
after the movie, you turned to me and said: That's what
I want to do, Daddy.
I want to tell stories.
And I said: You can do anything
you want, son.
And so, you became a writer.
I did that.
Anyway, I hope you ditch
that depressed girl.
And I hope Fi is wrong about
Tony Shalhoub.
Looking at his last name now,
it does look suspicious.
Shal-houb.
Cheers."
Excuse me! Excuse me. We are not done.
First of all, he is a liar!
I begged him to take me to Big Night
so that we could bond, but instead,
he went to D3: The Mighty Ducks,
and I watched Big Night alone.
Then his movie was shorter,
he forgot that I was with him, so he left without me.
For him to claim that he was rejected after 18 years
of constant rejection on his part is crazy!
In fact...
I've prepared a list of heckles for the occasion.
Sweet.
Uh, "Dad, fortunately, your death wasn't too much
of a shock, considering you already look like
someone put a Manchester jersey
on the corpse of a drowned person."
"Dad, you always were a lady killer.
You gave all three of my sisters genes
for alcoholism, learning disabilities
and morbid obesity."
Ugh.
I mean, we are talking about a guy who was
so narcissistic that he wrote his own eulogy!
What's next?!
Are we...?
Freddie, when did my dad find out he was dying?
He was diagnosed some time last year.
Hey, folks, if, uh, you're gonna Instagram this,
be sure to, uh, hashtag "BenFoldsSightings,"
"BenFoldslsEverywhere" and "BenFoldsMovesToLA."
If you do, I'll personally tell you what Brick is really about.
Abortion.
No.
Hey, thanks for playing.
You were really great.
Ben! Ben! Over here, Ben!
- Over here, Ben! - Sorry.
Not an appropriate venue, bud.
Now, I'll take some pictures with you outside later.
All right?
Uh...
Wasn't that the same guy
who asked for your autograph at the ice cream place?
What?! A paparazzi and an autograph reseller?
Scumbag.
Okay, look, I moved to L.A. a couple months ago,
and, you know, everyone was so excited when Moby moved to town.
It was like, "Moby bought that house."
"Oh, and Moby opened that restaurant."
Ben Folds moved to town? Bupkis.
That's...
That's incredibly...
clever... of you.
But, hey,
it's my job now.
Well, this was fun. Hey, guys,
want to hit Big Wang's or something?
Get a couple drinks in me, I might tell you what Brick's about.
Abortion.
Goddamn it. How'd that get out?
Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
You know, when we had that moment in the pub,
I thought to myself, "After 33 years,
I'm finally having a real moment with my father."
Can't believe what a fool I was.
There wasn't a shred of truth in that moment.
You were lying the whole time.
You were dying, you didn't say a word.
All you had to do was say, "Hey, Jimmy,
this might be the last time I get to see you.
Is there anything you'd like to say?"
And that way...
despite decades of neglecting, withholding,
general assholery,
I could have had a modicum of closure.
Goddamn you!
I can hear you laughing at the world "modicum" as I speak.
Well, guess what.
I'm getting my closure right now.
You do not get to affect me anymore!
So long, Dad.
Sync and corrections by johnyd13 Resync by Spectrix www.addic7ed.com