Previously on "You Me Her"...
You're still here. Why?
Maybe we can help each other.
We have also been dipping our toe
- in the dating pool. - Yeah.
Let's take a moment to thank the Lord
for bringing us together.
It was an app.
I'm working at a place called Groundwork, for at-risk teens.
- She's like a clone. - I know.
I love the hell out of that woman,
so I'm gonna need you to stop being an asshole.
Word on the street is you've been looking
- at a lot of pricy houses lately. - What is it you want from us?
It's not what you can do for me, David.
We should probably get our key back.
Right. Yeah. Of course.
- Did you just walk in? - Sorry, is...
- Hello? - She's way too pretty for you.
- Are you jealous? - Just, like, totally alone in the universe.
I was gonna ask for my key back.
I'm getting that a lot lately.
Girl gotta go.
- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --
- Hey, Peanut. - Hi.
You're my last key.
Oh...
Jesus.
First rule of personal space.
If our retinas are scraping, you're too close.
I know, but you two are just so cute.
- Do you think that maybe... - For as long as you need,
and then I wish it was longer.
Thank you.
We're gonna have so much fun.
- It's contagious. - I'll start zinc loading.
After you.
I did it. Yay, me.
- They're asleep? - Yeah.
- How? - I played dead.
They got my face and plucked my eyelashes till they passed out.
- It is a highly edible face. - Oh.
Are you tired? I am so tired.
- Catching a wave. - Oh, God.
Here.
Okay.
- I'm ready. - Me too.
- Climb aboard. - Get on.
What?
- I need you to... - No, you... I am not getting on top.
- Are you serious? - Yeah.
- I can't do any of the work. - I'm always on top.
- What are you doing? - I'm praying to God
that he might fill our libidos with his lustful light.
Who knew recreational polyamory was so hard?
What were we trying to prove?
Something about not resorting back to our routine, right?
- Right. - Yeah.
And I'm sure it's entirely coincidental that...
Is that Rose's urination gurgle?
- Ohh... - Here we go.
Three. Two. One.
And there it is.
Okay. I understand how no human
truly enjoys marinating in their own urine, but...
But Rose seems especially indignant about it, right?
- I know. - Like she's above it.
Yeah, like pretty haughty, for a baby.
What were you gonna say, before the gurgle?
I just, like... what if the space we created for Izzy
never gets filled?
Then we'll fill it.
Me and you.
- Yeah. - Yes.
We don't have to go back into our box
just because Izzy's gone, right?
I'm gonna go put Rose to sleep, and then I'm gonna come back,
and we're gonna power nap with coma-like intensity.
And then when we wake up
we're gonna do something fucking spontaneous.
Like order Indian in the middle of the day
like total weirdoes... that is such a weird thing to do.
Well, I was thinking something more,
you know, like this.
- Yeah? Like what? - A spontaneous dance.
That is... that is special.
Yeah, I know. Pop, two...
Three. Boom.
It's not choreographed.
I'm just making it up, on the spot. What?
You're such a dork.
There's more where that came from.
- Wait there. - Oh, good, I can't wait.
Okay. Activate focus. I need you.
Oh, not big on your delivery, but I'm down.
No, no.
Look, so far, Coach Ding-Dong's career aptitude test
has given me one panic attack and two anxiety poops.
Aw. Hey, for future reference,
you don't have to palm my face, if you're gonna say that.
My entire future hinges on the outcome of this test.
I deeply and sincerely hope you don't actually believe that.
I'm a team player, right? So ten?
Yeah. I'm gonna say ten.
Hey, speaking of teamwork, here's a questionable segue.
I was hoping we could discuss our living arrangement,
because it feels to me that you and I are...
Good listener, right? Yeah, slam dunk.
Ten! Pshhhhh!
Yeah. How many times have you taken this test?
42. It lands on dominatrix or vice principal every time.
It seriously says dominatrix in there?
No. I'm making a point.
It's just my defining qualities seem to line up perfectly
with brutal, iron-fisted dictator.
Huh. Well, it seems to me that the test reflects
what you choose to show. It's not judging you.
You're judging you.
Well, jeez, when you say stuff that smart,
it makes me wonder what you're up to the rest of the time.
There we go.
It really meant a lot to me when you kicked Izzy out,
and it got me thinking maybe...
maybe we should start splitting the rent.
No. No. Don't be silly, okay?
- You don't have to do that. - No, no, it matters to me.
I mean, it would mean that you and I are adults.
"Emotionally intuitive." Dude, that's my jam.
Shit. It only goes to ten.
Shit.
Okay. What's that face?
Just... No, I just...
No, I think it's best if I go for a walk.
Get some air.
Oh, shit.
What are you so happy about, you furry little butthole?
The butthole's name is Abigail.
Abigail McButthole.
Your dad's been helping me with him.
Can you believe that?
He's become quite the seamstress,
or is it seamster?
- Would it be called seamster? - Wait.
My father sews. I just...
I need a second with that.
Okay, okay. Go on.
You were asleep. I was gonna cover you up.
I guess I do this now.
I just fell asleep without knowing it.
I may not be transforming, but I'm definitely aging.
Izzy...
I want to be a part of your solution,
not another thing that stresses you out.
Okay.
This whole thing...
it feels less like a marriage
and more like you're just absorbing him.
Or we could cut straight to your grievances.
Sorry.
Don't be.
That's pretty accurate, actually.
I mean, you can bullshit me a little bit.
I had a world he could walk into.
He had you and a studio apartment
that smelled like dirty laundry and Calvin Klein's Obsession.
- This is true. - And while you were gone,
he did walk into my world,
but the thing is, that world's gonna change
because of him and you.
It's gonna become our world.
Take a minute. Wash it around.
You love my dad.
So fucking much.
It's really nice.
You're gonna give yourself an aneurysm.
Sorry. I just... I'm waiting for this message.
What's wrong?
Never fall in love with a six-year-old asylum seeker.
They'll get lost in the system and break your heart.
- Tell me about him. - No. We don't...
Come on, tell me.
His name is Leo, and he's very sweet.
All he did was make fun of my attempts speaking Spanish,
and my clothes and my dance moves.
Before I knew what was happening,
the little weirdo dug in deep,
and he was supposed to get transferred
to a smaller group home with kids his own age,
and it's hard because I promised that I'd keep him safe,
and now I don't know... I don't know what happened,
and he's just... he's lost, and... I'm sorry.
You'll find him. You will.
Come here.
You know what? You have a lot on your mind,
and I can find a wedding dress on my own.
- Just... - No, no, no, I have to go,
because this world does not need
another white woman in a sarong.
Oh, thank God.
Thank you.
Jesus! Oh, my God.
Did we just have sex?
I don't know. Maybe? Uh, I don't think so.
What's the last thing you remember?
You crawling into the nursery.
Prepare thine self, wife person,
for I am about to do the sex onto you.
- Okay. - Just give me a minute.
Do you remember last month when Lala offered
to watch the girls for an overnight?
Yeah. We wouldn't have survived without them.
Who saw that coming?
Well, she doubled down on it just yesterday.
Hmm?
Idea.
We escape to a hotel.
Eliminate all and any pressure to have the kind of circus sex
that makes up for months of lateness.
- Liking it. - Yeah. We check in.
We check out.
We get weird, wild, and spontaneous.
How about tonight? I mean, if she's free?
- You know I'm down. - Yeah?
- I'm in. - We're doing it? Okay.
_
So let me guess. Dictator.
Dominatrix.
Dominatrix who specializes in portraying a dictator.
Union buster, actually, which is weird,
because I do not recall including that one.
But look, forget about the test, okay?
Listen to me, and remember only this.
Do what you love, and you'll never work a day in your life.
I swear to God, Remy, if I am paying you 200 bucks an hour
to tell me to follow my bliss,
they will never find all the pieces of you.
Mutilation.
Nice. Cool stuff. I'm into that too.
Rock on.
Oh, hey. That's a nice laptop, huh?
Really? It's silver.
Opens and closes. It's pretty standard.
- May I? - Knock yourself out.
Thank you. Bit of a laptop freak.
What are you doing?
Oh, I'm gonna do a bit of a reading,
but not tarot cards or tea leaves.
No, no, no, no, no.
I'm gonna do a reading of your browsing history.
- No. No. - Yes. Yes.
- No. - You, hands off.
Want to play that game?
I can play it all day.
Let go. It's gonna help you.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
I'm here to help.
Okay.
The crapboard house.
Say what now?
I thought you liked it. Isn't that why we're here?
No. Carmen was trying to say "clapboard,"
but "crapboard" came out, so it just kind of stuck.
You okay?
Yeah. You just... don't realize
how much you're gonna miss that stuff.
The goofy-ass jokes you repeat a million times,
and they just get dumber and dumber.
Till they're perfect.
- Yeah. - Hey.
I really appreciate everything, Kay?
If you buy this place, I get a wing, right?
Did I mention that you're never getting rid of me?
- It's nice, right? - Yeah. Nice.
Welcome home, Dave.
Dave's even weirder sister.
Manipulative neighborhood villain.
- How did you know? - It's been on seven home tours
in the last four years.
Only one couple showed up to all seven.
Right. I should take a picture for Carm.
I feel like I should wait until she's back, and...
Then you'll feel like it's somebody else's house.
But Trakarsky's...
- Jesus. - No, seriously.
Hey, no unlikely alliances.
Take this observation with a grain of salt,
but your weird forever-and-ever plan
is just an anchor of stupidity.
Excuse me.
- Unhand me. - Does this help?
- Us dragging you into it? - Yeah, a little bit.
Okay, um...
just to save time, is it all about weddings?
All these clouded filters?
Every Pinterest board.
All these videos and decades' worth of website links.
The wedding diary?
- What the fuck is the wedding diary? - No.
You, of all people, do not get to look at me
like I'm crazy, okay?
I...
Great, Coach fucking Remy thinks I'm crazy.
So when did it start, this addiction to wedding porn?
Uh... pfft. Since I was 18,
before I got left at the altar,
I may or may not have stopped doing
literally anything else my entire senior year.
Hmm. And who's this Lala person
you keep rambling on and on and...
My bestie's new stepmom.
She literally does not have the slightest fucking clue
what she's doing.
That's it.
It's perfect. Don't you see?
You're a domineering control freak
who takes great joy in bossing other people around.
You have to plan that woman's wedding.
I'm sorry, did you seriously just call me a basic bitch?
- Wait. What? - You know what?
I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna do it.
You wore me down.
I did? Really?
Really do need closure on my wedding obsession.
I mean might as well bail out some poor, dumb, clueless bride
while I'm at it, right? Is that what you're saying?
Yes. That was precisely what I was saying.
Exactly. No doubt about it.
Then you're gonna like my Yelp review.
Oh, great. Hey, what is Yelp, by the way?
People keep threatening me with it.
So you're babysitting their kids now?
Lala offered way before you came home.
What were we supposed to do?
Rescind the offer.
Okay. Fine. Say the word, and it's done.
Good.
- It's not a good look is it? - No.
They're gonna say it's 'cause I'm all freaked out
'cause I'm still in love with them.
Which you aren't, right?
Of course not.
Which is why, upon deeper reflection,
I'm totally cool with it.
So I hope it's a blast-off.
Oh, hey, La.
I heard that you're babysitting the Trakarsky ladies.
So nice of you.
It's a neighborly thing.
You know, maybe you... a little practice?
No, 'cause you guys are super old, so just...
- What was that? - Tough to say.
- We're old. - Hey, baby.
You.
- Oh, God. - Nina.
I see you, La. I know what you're doing.
Ben, help.
Better to aim low and miss, right?
Way less embarrassing than actually trying,
but not pulling it off.
I don't know what that means.
I'm gonna do it. I'll plan your wedding.
- What? - Yeah, I'm gonna plan your wedding
and save you a lifetime of regrets.
You don't have to pay me or, you know, even thank me,
but we start tomorrow.
Which will not be a generic mall safari,
because I have booked an appointment
with the single coolest wedding dress consultant
in all of Portland.
What's it called?
Why would it need to be called anything?
How am I supposed to know if it's any good
if I don't know what it's called?
Forget everything you think you know, okay?
I'll be in touch.
- This is her business card. - Yeah.
Why would I say yes to this?
Well, think of it this way,
and the answer becomes simple.
Do we really want to find out
what would happen if we said no?
You wouldn't babysit their kids, would you, Abigail?
- Hello? - Hold on, hold on.
Dr. Silva, someone wants to talk to you.
Here you go.
- Izzy? - Leo! Hi, peanut.
¿Cómo estás?
- I miss you. - Oh, I miss you too.
Not much longer. I promise, okay?
We're gonna get this figured out.
Yay!
What are you afraid of?
Everything.
That branch we were on was a lot safer.
It's a really nice branch.
Hey, just 'cause you can climb higher
doesn't mean you have to.
This woman's babbling incoherently.
Honestly, we should put her down, as a matter of dignity.
Seriously, Dave?
You walk out of here, you won't get back in
till the next home tour.
I gotta talk to Carmen alone,
even if she is flattened into the shape of an iPad.
Good call.
I find you useless.
Hm.
Oh, yeah.
Oh, let me smell. Let me smell.
Oh, there's the stuff. Yeah, baby.
So what's the plan?
Hotel Angelina. Top floor.
City views.
- Yeah. We splurged a little. - Oh, nice.
Well, enjoy the privacy, if you know what I mean.
Well, there's no pressure on that front.
Whatever happens happens, as long as we're together.
- Aw. - Yeah, but what's gonna happen
- is a whole lot of sex. - Oh.
- Okay. - Well, okay.
- That's great. - Yeah, great.
- Oh, yeah, tons of sex. - Mm-hmm.
- We're gonna, like, set records. - Oh, yeah.
- If you're looking for us... - Okay.
... we'll be in the emergency room,
'cause we're gonna cripple each other.
- That's great. - Well, we may even invite some company,
if you know what I'm saying.
Yeah. Every sexual position that's known to man.
- Oh, yeah, the donkey. - Yep.
So vivid.
Can't stop seeing it.
Hi again.
Okay, so I'm Izzy,
and I'm sure you've heard of me.
They do talk about me, right?
Like, you wouldn't categorize them as apathetic,
'cause that's the real opposite of love,
so don't say I never tell you anything.
God, you're both so dewy.
Can I get the name of your dermo?
Oh, why'd you have to go do that?
Can I tell you a secret?
Your parents are assholes.
You heard it here first.
Oh, wait a minute...
That's why they say
"Dance like nobody's watching," right?
Ha ha.
Oh, hang on.
I just realized "dance like no one's watching"
makes so much more sense if you're alone.
Check it out. Spontaneous dance.
Wow. Wow. Hey, babe.
Babe, let's spontaneously, like, stop dancing.
Okay. Good, 'cause I'm exhausted.
Hey, do you think Izzy heard us?
I mean were we being too Dicky? We were kind of Dicky.
I don't know. She started it, right,
with the whole Nathan thing.
Okay, what now? Pillow fight?
That seems kind of desperate.
That's fair. Yeah. We could eat.
Yeah. Which we will when our food finally gets here
which we ordered like...
Oh, 11 minutes ago.
Oh, my God. I would have guessed like, an hour.
I know. Same.
Okay.
It's Izzy.
"Your babies are precious."
Hmm.
"Also, I hate you."
Ha. That's more like it.
Obvious cry for help. Do we, uh...
- Do we respond? - I think we have to, right?
Yeah. Like, something super mature. You know, this is our chance
to get back on the moral high road.
I actually haven't spent too much time on that road,
although I hear it's very nice.
You know, high visibility. Low humidity.
Concerned and caring, yet detached.
Good.
Why are you here?
Shh.
Okay. Good talk.
You did it, didn't you?
- Did what? - You drunk texted the Trakarskys.
- You don't know anything. - Hmm.
I mean, I did text them,
but I'm not what I consider drunk. Yet.
You know, I actually am very glad you're here.
- Really? - Yeah.
I'm at that dicey age where a cautionary tale
is more impactful than a hero.
You're also at that dicey age where you generally suck
and everyone hates your stupid face.
Okay. All right.
I guess we're not gonna be doing the witty banter thing then, huh?
"Do you need to talk?"
What the actual fucking fuck?
So hi.
Hey, don't want to nag,
but maybe 10% less profanity and alcohol ingestion.
Sorry. All my favorite celebrities broke up, and I...
It's really sad. Take it down a notch.
"Do you need to talk?"
Okay, okay. You think that's gonna work?
You think I'm gonna hightail it over there,
to prove how not crazy I am
which will just make me look even crazier?
Well, guess what? Nice try.
Only one step ahead of you assholes.
I'm not gonna yell.
I'm gonna calmly inform you that,
if you don't delete that immediately,
right now, in front my face, I'm going to do horrible,
permanent things to you while you sleep.
And that is not a threat. That is a stone-cold fact.
Right. Yeah. Okay. I'm on it. I'm on it.
Izzy.
Where?
- Room service. - It's room service.
Coming.
"Do you need to talk?" Really?
We have the Korean spicy fried chicken here.
- Lobster mac and cheese... - I came here to tell you
to your stupid faces that no.
I very much do not need to talk.
Herbal cheesecake. Hmm?
Fine, I will eat then I'm out of here.
- Sriracha spring rolls... - Yeah, that's delicious.
- Okay. - Okay.
- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --