Last time on "Hot in Cleveland" Joy met George,
a great guy who only had 3 months to live.
But while Joy was helping George
cross things off his bucket list,
she fell for him--hard.
Who are you?
Your new boyfriend. Get used to it.
Ah, we did it, Joy.
To Rio and back in under 24 hours.
- Where's your bucket list? - Oh!
I am officially crossing off
"fly to Brazil for a truly great cup of coffee."
Oh, I hadn't noticed this one.
"Sleep with 300 women."
- Did I write that? - It's underlined twice
and all in caps.
George!
You only have three months to live!
How could you possibly sleep with 300 women?
Hmm, you're right.
How about I just sleep with you 300 times?
In three months?
Well, it's only, like, 31/2 times a day.
Huh, well, we already did the half one.
Yeah, sorry about that.
You know, having sex on the beach
sounds like a good idea, but then there's all the sand
and the bottle caps,
and that kid with the lost soccer ball.
Marry me, Joy.
What?
- We hardly know each other. - What's to know?
I've only got three months. How bad could it be?
You're right, there's nothing so awful
you can't put up with it for three months.
And suddenly, that doesn't sound romantic.
Hmm, to the contrary, it's nothing but romantic.
All we'll have is the honeymoon--
a three-month honeymoon.
Travel the world with me.
Oh, I don't know. I'm not an impulsive person.
True!
I hate when you clear your throat like that.
But I'd only have to put up with it for three months!
That is the ugliest shirt I have ever seen,
and I dated Jimmy Buffet.
I stole it out of George's bag this morning.
I told him I could put up with anything for three months,
but this shirt is too hideous,
especially now that I'm going to be... his wife!
- What? - Are you k--what?
I give it two months.
He has three months to live.
I know.
We're getting married on Friday,
then we're traveling the world together.
Joy, are you sure you've thought this through?
You know, obviously not.
I mean, how are you going to pack for three months?
I know I'm rushing into this, but what's the alternative?
George doesn't have much time, and I truly adore him.
You're doing a good thing, Joy.
Having you for a wife will make dying much easier.
You're just mad because you can no longer call me
"the spinster Scroggs."
Hmm, "the widow Scroggs" does have a classic ring.
Aren't you gonna take his last name?
You've always hated yours.
Yes, but George's is worse.
Well, how much worse could it be?
Believe me, it's gross.
Well, come on, it can't be that bad.
His last name is "Gross."
I'd be "the widow Gross."
Oh, I wonder who that could be.
Probably my twin sister.
Your what?
- You have a twin? - Elka...
Why did you never mention this?
I'm an enigma, wrapped inside a conundrum,
shrouded in dimples.
Why hasn't she visited before?
We had a big fight.
We haven't spoken in 40 years!
But Joy's dying guy got me thinking,
maybe it's time we let bygones be bygones.
Oh, that's so sweet. You're gonna patch things up.
I forgot how needy she was.
I'm annoyed already.
Elka!
Anka!
Ah...
You look terrible!
Sync, corrected by Alice www.addic7ed.com
What have you done to our face?
Me?
What about you? "Natural aging."
Disgusting!
Where's the famous Ostrovsky neck freckle?
You had it removed!
Oh, please.
After five facelifts, it's on my forehead!
Oh, Anka, would you like something to eat?
Oh, no, thank you, no.
I couldn't eat with that freakish thing in the room.
Yeah, Joy puts me off my food too.
No, no, no, I--I meant the shirt.
Relax, I'm tossing it in the rubbish right now.
So, 40 years. That must've been some fight.
- Horrible. - Oh, vicious.
What was it about again?
Oh, crap. Alzheimer's!
Has it gotten to the point
where she thinks Kleenex is money?
Okay, so what was the fight about?
Well, I don't remember.
Was it when I pretended to be you
and slept with your boyfriend?
No.
Was it when I pretended to be you
and escaped from Poland?
No.
What about a drink?
It's 9:00 A.M.!
- Vodka then. - Sure!
Oh! It's my husband-to-be.
Hello, husband-to-be.
Your lucky flowered shirt is missing?
Yeah, I know the one.
I love that shirt.
I'm in my bedroom right now. I'll look around for it.
Nope, don't see it anywhere.
What?
You want to be buried in it?
Don't worry, I'll find it.
I've got to retrieve that shirt before the trash man does!
Hello, Joy!
Oh, thank God.
Well, this is going better than I thought.
- Take off your shirt. - A lot better than I thought!
Artie, I need that shirt back. It's my fiance's favorite.
He's dying and he wants to be buried in it.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Thank you, but we've made peace with it, so--
No, no, no, I'm sorry I can't give you the shirt back.
I found it in the trash, and as a former homeless man,
I'm well-versed in the 1988 landmark decision,
Finders v. Weepers.
Artie, you're a billionaire now.
Surely you can buy yourself 100 hideous shirts.
Perhaps. Or perhaps I will hold this one hostage.
For what? Money?
No, for love! The love of a good woman!
Joy, I need you to give me a makeover so I can find one!
Wait, what happened to the love of your life, Preshi,
from the rubber ball?
Ah, I am a Firestone, of Firestone rubber.
She is an Elmer, of Elmer's glue.
When our families realized I was rubber and she was glue...
Well!
But I don't have time to give you a makeover.
I'm getting married in two days.
You know what, Joy? We'll give him a makeover.
- You will? - Yeah, why not.
We like a good challenge.
It's like My Fair Lady.
Eliza Doolittle me!
I'm a good girl, I am!
What's going on in here?
Holy moly! Twins!
What was that fight about?
Was it when I shot you in the shoulder?
Oh, no, you were drunk.
I'm sure our fight happened when we were sober.
Well, that narrows it down.
Oh, really, mom?
You can't make it in time to the wedding?
Oh, I'm so disappointed.
Yes!
Well, we're traveling the world. Of course we'll stop in London.
I love you, too.
You know, with that accent and figure,
you remind me of a-- a gorgeous British movie star.
Oh, um, oh, well-what's the name?
Kate Beckinsale?
No.
Who am I thinking of?
- Hugh Grant. - Bingo!
All right, Artie, now you walk into the bar
and scan the room.
Now you spot a beautiful woman at the bar.
You approach, say hello,
and then say the first thing that comes to mind.
- Hello. - Hello.
I wonder how you'd look in a vat of creamed corn.
The second thing that comes to mind.
A vat of baked beans.
No vats. Third thing.
I bet I could fit your whole head in my mouth!
Fourth thing.
You're a beautiful woman,
yet there's a sadness behind your eyes.
May I buy you a drink?
Yes! That's it!
Artie, when you're with a woman,
say only the fourth thing that comes to mind.
By George, I think I've got it!
And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to use the...
Men's room.
That was incredible.
- Wanna hear some music? - Sure.
What are you doing?
Don't tell me I'm the first man
you've been with who plays the post-coital ukulele.
Any requests?
Do you know the refrain from playing?
Why do I smell bananas?
I lit my monkey candle.
But a monkey doesn't smell like a banana.
You want it to smell like burning monkeys?
You're adorable.
You know, if I weren't already marrying you,
I'd want to marry you.
Aww.
Sorry.
Three months.
Hey, I finished writing my wedding vows this afternoon.
- You wanna hear 'Em? - No, they'll only make me cry.
Would you rather I played my ukulele again?
Let's hear those vows!
"Joy.
"From this day on, I choose you to be my wife.
"I pledge to kiss you slowly, to be food for your soul,
"to sleep in your arms, to comfort you with my body,
"just as you promise to comfort me with yours,
"and we both promise to comfort no others
for the rest of eternity."
Wait, did you just say I can't sleep with other men
after you're gone?
Well, for, you know, eternity.
Hey, I'm not gonna have any sex either.
Because you'll be dead!
Okay, what if I promise to observe
a proper grieving period? How about six months?
- 30 years. - Nine months.
Two years! And nothing below the belt.
One year, final offer.
Okay, one year, but you have to promise me,
the first person you have sex with again,
you have to cry out my name.
Oh, George.
No, more like, "oh! George!"
Unless his name is George, and then, silence.
Melanie, you're so beautiful,
I'd like to keep you in my basement.
That was your third thought, wasn't it?
Yes. I need the fingers.
You look breathtaking tonight.
Aw, thank you.
Fourth-thought Artie is a very charming guy.
Oh! This is what I was afraid of!
You created the perfect man,
and now you've fallen in love with your creation.
No, I have not.
You hide it well.
And we're done.
Your perfect woman is at the bar,
tearing up over The Bachelor. No wedding ring.
She's already had two glasses of Pinot.
Ah, make that three.
Okay, you got your lady, now give us the shirt.
Not until the deal is sealed, but here's a picture of it
with today's newspaper, so you know it's still alive.
Okay, she's drunk, he's rich.
It could work.
Melanie, we pulled it off.
We've actually made Artie palatable to women.
I'm five feet away, and thank you!
- Jacob! - Edward!
- Tupac! - Biggie!
Look, I-I don't mean to butt in, but you two
have been fighting on either side of me for over an hour.
Now Joy told me that my situation inspired your reunion.
Do you think there's any way that I can inspire you guys
to bury the hatchet? Life is short!
Dying guy's kinda preachy.
Did you see the cheap ring he got her?
What's he saving his money for?
Well, glad I could help.
Pay it forward, guys.
The bride is almost ready.
She's nervous, so she borrowed something blue
from my medicine cabinet.
I suppose I didn't have to announce that,
but I took something orange and, well, I'm a little chatty.
- The deal is sealed. - Oh, great, thanks.
Uh, we're about to have a wedding,
but I'm glad that things went well last night.
No, things did not go well!
Yes, I got, as the Bible says, "laid,"
but all that counting to four before I speak, it's exhausting.
I want a woman who loves me for myself!
- Like you, Victoria. - I do not love you.
Liar!
Here comes the bride!
Ohh.
All dressed in...
White!
Bold choice.
Where's George? He showed up, didn't he?
I'm right here, baby. And you look insanely beautiful.
And you look very handsome as well.
So are you ready for three months of wedded bliss?
Absolutely.
Hey, look! You found my lucky shirt!
I did?
I did! Surprise!
When is the minister gonna get here?
What time did you tell him to come?
I thought the minister was your job.
I thought it was yours.
Perhaps I can be of service.
Reverend Artie Firestone, Universal Life Church.
I'm also a licensed mohel,
should you feel the urge to take a little off the top.
- Should we? - Why not?
Come on, everybody. I'm getting married.
Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today
to join this man and woman in holy matrimony.
Do you, Rejoyla Scroggs-- what a ghastly name--
- take this man, George... - Gross.
George Gross, to be your lawful wedded husband,
for better or for worse--
Sorry, I meant to turn that off.
- Oh, it's my doctor. - Oh, you should take that.
- No, no, I could always-- - No, no, no, no.
- It could be important. - Hmm, okay.
Hi, Dr. Marcil.
No, it's okay, I'm just getting married.
Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.
Really? Are you sure?
Wow.
That's-- oh, thank you, thank you.
What? What is it?
I can't believe this.
I just got my new blood work back,
and instead of a few months, I've got more like two years.
- Really? That's amazing! - Yes!
- Two years! Wow! - Two years!
- Two years. - Two years.
- Not three months. - Not three months.
May I continue?
By all means.
Hang on.
Uh, we both said there were a lot of things
we could put up with for three months,
like throat clearing, and monkey candles,
- and ugly shirts, and-- - What ugly shirt?
Never mind.
It's just that now you have all this time
to do all the things on your bucket list,
and I don't want to stand in your way.
Be honest with me, George.
Well, I guess I still would like to take a shot at
sleeping with 300 women.
- What? - You told me to be honest.
You should've said the fourth thing.
Are you saying two years is too long
to have sex with just me?
Well, I--
What if you had six months to live?
Oh, it would still be you, baby.
Nine months?
Y-you...
Definitely you, yeah.
But come on, two years?
That's longer than any relationship I've ever had.
It is? I didn't know that.
Well, there's lots of things I don't know about you.
Hmm, when Joy and I were engaged,
we knew everything about each other.
Wait a minute, you two were engaged?
It was for a green card, not for love.
Liar!
Well, I guess there's some things
I don't know about you too.
We're rushing into something
that doesn't need rushing into any more.
Look, Joy, I don't know how all this is going to play out,
but in a year, if you're still available,
do you think maybe I could--
Come and see me again?
Yes, but not in that hideous shirt.
Fair enough. One last kiss?
By the power vested in me,
I now pronounce you not man and wife.
And as a licensed mohel, I will cut the cake.
Well, it's officially my second failed wedding,
only this time I'm twice as old. So, you know...
It's not so sad.
Well, we're off to the ballgame.
- Have fun. - Go Indians!
Indians? Sweetheart, I root for the Reds.
That was our fight!
1972, you ditched Cleveland to root for Cincinnati!
Because the Indians sucked
ever since they traded Rocky Colavito!
Gaylord Perry took the Cy Young that year!
Perry! That dirty pitcher!
That man had more vaseline on his balls
than Elton John uses to squeeze into his show pants.
Come on, we're gonna miss the first pitch.
Well, age before beauty.
I'm two minutes younger, you know?
The happiest two minutes of Mom's life.
I should've strangled you while we were still in the womb
and I had the chance.
By the way, you are buying the hot dogs.
Oh, speaking of hot dogs,
your head is pulled tighter than a ballpark frank.
And full of just as much crap.
You still like mustard?
Sync, corrected by Alice www.addic7ed.com