Hey, Crystal.
Millie's having some kind of emergency,
so I need you to hold down the fort.
Can't I just stay here?
What do you mean?
Well, where is this stupid fort?
This is the fort.
You never heard the expression
"Hold down the fort"?
Sorry, Joyce,
I wasn't around in pioneer times.
Oh, good lord, it's crying again.
Your baby's in the desk?
No, I was just getting a sandwich.
Baby's over there.
Still no name, huh?
No rush, I guess.
Still a couple years before it starts school.
Anyway I'm off to Millie's,
so hold down the...
Mall or boutique or whatever you say today.
Yeah, you're cute.
Get over it.
Sync by Alice | www.addic7ed.com
Joyce, thank God you're here.
Is Stan coming?
I told Stan to come.
What is this about?
Brace yourself,
because that whistling you hear
is the sound of a bomb about to drop.
I think it's your tea kettle.
Oh.
Here comes a bomb.
Chip Evans is dead.
Oh, Millie, I'm so sorry.
Who's that?
He's my mentor.
He created Bumbles and Brew.
Ah...
Nope, don't know what that is either.
It's a comic strip.
It's with two sassy porcupines
who hang out in front of a liquor store.
I'm sure his death
is all over the news sites.
Oh, God...
What?
The world has lost an icon,
and all I can find are So you think you can Dance results!
Don't tell me! I PVRed it.
Argh!
Pssst!
Crystal?
Pssst!
Are you awake?
Psssss--
Shh!
You'll wake the baby!
See what you did?
Whoop, whoop!
Stop doing that.
It doesn't help her sleep.
But it's fun.
Stan, this is Beau.
He's the kid's father,
and my boyfriend.
What's goin' on?
Ooh, geez, you're a-- you're a big one.
Yeah, he plays for some team in town that does sports.
The Pistols.
You play for the-- cool.
If you're looking for Millie,
she's at her condo with Joyce.
Yeah, yeah--
so you play for the Pistols?
What are you, like, offensive tackle?
Well scoped.
Two years now.
Cool. Cool...
Uh, well, I guess I should get going,
but, uh,
but, you know, if you guys need any sort of life guidance,
that's what I do,
or if you just want to toss the pigskin around,
let me know.
Or if you want to just, you know, run plays
or-- or anything,
anytime... seriously,
Whoop!
- Whoop-- - It's a baby, not an orangutan.
I know you're upset,
so if you finished your manuscript,
I'll take it
and get out of your hair.
Oh, I won't be working for a while.
I haven't gone through all the stages of grieving yet.
I've done denial and depression,
but I still have hungry,
irritable, and amorous.
When's the funeral?
Oh, today, but I can't go.
I want to remember Chip as I last saw him--
blind drunk, yelling at a Japanese businessman.
I think it would do you some good
to see him off.
Then hit that manuscript first thing in the morning.
You're right.
Chip wouldn't want me wallowing in my self-pity.
He'd say, "Come to my funeral, you lazy commie,
and keep your eyes peeled for those slippery Italians!"
Will you come with me?
Oh, well, I--
Awesome!
What's that thing?
It's a breast pump.
So, that's how you got 'em bigger?
Coochie-coo, look at you.
Who's the cutest little...
Huh, she fell asleep.
Really?
She just woke up from a nap.
I guess she finds me boring.
No offense, but after the tenth "coochie-coo,"
I'd drop off, too.
Well, she's not the most exciting thing herself, so...
Ow, ow, ow, ow!
Great, now I have to re-sanitize that.
Taylor, do you want to hold the baby?
Oh, whoa.
Keep the little puke machine away from the new duds.
Crystal, I need you to re-schedule my entire afternoon.
What...? I thought the first few weeks back
would be like an orientation period or something.
Joyce, here's the baby.
Oh...
Oh, aren't you cute.
Uh...
Nice one, Joyce.
I have to, uh,
go to a funeral.
Chip Evans.
He's some cartoonist that Millie knew.
Oh, an industry event,
a lot of literary types.
I should come with.
I'm starting to wish I was Chip Evans.
So Joyce is going with you to the funeral, huh?
I guess that's good.
Yeah, she practically begged me to take her.
What are you wearing?
Oh, it's an old Halloween costume.
It's all I had that was black.
Well, you can't wear that.
Well, it's either this or my Ninja outfit.
I'm sure you have a black dress.
Go look again.
Ugh.
Hello?
Hey, Stan. It's Crystal.
Remember when you offered us help?
We need your help.
Now?
Oh! I have a slutty witch outfit!
No ninjas, nuns, or sluts!
Well, that's good advice,
but it's not the type of help we need.
Oh, sorry.
Where did you want to meet up?
It's like every waking moment is spent with the baby.
Well, don't you have, like,
a mansion full of nannies and maids and butlers
and chimney sweeps
that could help you watch her?
Beau has this charmingly moronic idea
we should be standing on our own two feet.
I don't need her family to take care of my family.
So we're staying in the guest house.
These are perfectly normal feelings to have
as the owners of a new...
Not owners, but, you know, what-you-call-it...
Parents.
My point is,
it's important for you to find time for yourselves.
See? You understand.
Sure I do.
Great. We won't be long.
She has everything she needs.
Needs?
Oh, you want me to...
She'll probably just sleep the whole time.
Thanks, Mr. D.
Oh, please don't do that.
That's a nice dress, Millie.
Thank you.
It's the ninja-witch combo.
Is this open casket?
You know what they say, "open casket, open bar."
Chip wanted to be cremated.
He was afraid of being stuck in the ground
next to a crooked Dutchman.
Now, if this get too intense,
just let me know and we'll leave.
No, I've got to go through this,
but just stick close,
because I'm going to need a shoulder to cry on,
or a sleeve to blow my nose.
I am so sorry for you loss.
Taylor Rymes, literary agent.
Here's my card.
Taylor...
Could you not network
for two minutes?
Do you know how hard it is
to get a meeting with some of these people?
What's that noise?
♪ Raise a little hell raise a little hell ♪
- ♪ Raise a little hell... ♪ - Holy Mary, Paul, and Ringo!
This is a funeral?
Ooh, cotton candy.
♪ Raise a little hell! ♪
Whoo!
We're back.
Geez Louise, you were gone long enough.
We brought you a booster juice.
Oh, well, that's all fine and dandy,
but it's doesn't make up for the fact that...
Geez, that is good.
What is that, strawberry?
And peach.
Mm...
Very nice.
Still, I expected more from you, Beau.
Where have you guys been this whole time?
- Uh, movies. - Um, lunch.
We had lunch at the movies.
Really?
What movie did you see,
Meet the two irresponsible young parents?
Uh... yeah.
Anyway, we should go.
Thanks for your help, Stan.
Wait a minute.
Something's not right here.
Uh...
Are you sure this is peach?
'Cause I detect a hint of mango.
Well, that was the most fun I have had
in a long time.
What funeral has a magician?
Or a live band?
I saw you cozying up to that writer
on the dance floor.
Trisha Dumont,
writes horror books.
Every time I got close, she'd salsa away.
I need an ice-breaker,
like a scar,
or a parrot.
Millie, you're pretty quiet.
Usually somebody mentions a parrot,
and you're talking like a pirate
for the rest of the day.
Arrr...
Joyce, ya scurvy--
I can't do it.
Today was the greatest day
in Chip's life,
and he wasn't there to see it.
I'm sure he was there in spirit.
No, if he was haunting anybody, it wouldn't be us.
It would be the French.
Anyway, see you guys later.
Maybe I was too rough on them.
They're really having a hard time.
I'm not surprised,
with a child like that?
What possible problem
could you have with that baby?
We have milk in the fridge that's older than she is.
Well, not milk, but butter for sure.
I can't put my finger on it.
I don't want to say "stuck up,"
but if the diaper fits...
Why don't we just have them over for dinner?
They can relax,
I can slip in some coaching,
and you can work out whatever problems you have
with this innocent child.
Oh, sure, take her side.
Hey, Crystal, has Millie called--
oh boy.
Do you have to do that here?
Well, your office would be more private...
Here is fine.
Hey, Joyce.
You're still in your pajamas?
Ah, what's the point
in getting dressed?
Life's just one long conga line to the grave.
That's uplifting.
Ugh, that's disgusting.
Aw, how's that puffy little bundle of joy?
Okay.
Oh, good.
Too bad she's gonna die one day.
Millie, please.
What?
We're all going down the dumper sometime,
why don't we take this into my office?
Could you please?
Joyce...
There's something I've got to say to you.
You're a great publisher...
Well, thank you.
And you're also quite stacked.
I just thought you should know that
before you bite it.
You can't go through life focusing on death.
Life is for living.
We're here for a good time, not a long time.
Isn't that a Trooper song?
Maybe.
They've been stuck in my head
since Chip's funeral.
Yeah, but my point is,
you have to take this energy,
and you have to focus it into something positive.
You're right.
When I'm lying on my death bed,
am I going to be wishing that I spent more time worrying?
Of course not.
I should be out there
taking on the world.
Here I come.
The boys in the bright white sports car,
waving my arms in the air!
That's also Trooper.
Well, they rock.
Now I'm going to get out there are start living life.
I wanna live!
Live, you beautiful snot-nosed baby, live!
Great.
Thanks, Millie.
You're welcome!
I'm so glad you two
could join us for dinner.
I thought it might be a good idea
for Anna and I to share some of our experiences.
You guys have kids?
Not exactly.
When we were first married,
we had a chevette
that required quite a bit of attention.
Didn't we, hon?
The baby isn't eating.
Is there something wrong with the empanada?
I ground it up myself.
She probably just doesn't like it.
Anyway, as I was saying,
life is a balance between your needs--
Sorry, could you point me to your washroom?
Oh, yeah, it's just through that door there.
And it's down the hall?
Nope, no hall.
Just open the door and toilet.
Thanks.
Excuse me, too.
Looks like someone isn't getting any dessert.
Hey, is it normal
for couples to use the bathroom together?
How is it I can get down a fire escape
faster than you?
I'm not angry.
Just disappointed.
I am angry.
Good morning, Joyce!
Someone's in better spirits.
Me too!
And I have you and your peppy talk to thank,
so as a token of my appreciation...
You finished your draft?
Here's an invitation to my funeral.
Your what?
My funeral.
Tomorrow afternoon at my place.
Hope you can make it!
Hey!
Well, if this is another trick
to stick me with your kid again,
you can forget about it,
'cause I'm savvy now to your deceptionary ways.
We called you here to apologize.
Oh, well, you can take your "sorrys"
down to the post office
and mail them to somebody who gives two hoots.
We should just tell him.
Beau's parents don't know about the baby.
Whoa.
Baby out of nowhere,
that's about the biggest bomb you can drop.
Invites to my funeral!
You can pay your respects to me
tomorrow, 4:00 P.M.,
and it has been a real pleasure knowing you all.
On the upside, she won't even be dead.
Funeral?
Yeah, remember?
I'm giving myself a living funeral,
so I won't miss it.
Oh, and don't worry,
it is going to be fun.
Funeral has the word "fun," like, right in it.
It's "fyoon," but still.
I told you this already.
You didn't tell me any of this.
Oh! Well, I did now.
Oh! Hey, Connie!
Come to my funeral.
It's gonna be fyoon for all!
I blame you for this.
Me?
Sorry, back to you guys.
Where were we?
Oh, yeah, surprise baby.
So, why don't you just tell Beau's parents?
That's what we've been trying to do.
When we left you at the cafe, and again last night...
It's not just the baby.
It's...
Crystal?
Well, she's sorta rich, and my folks are kinda...
Judgemental hippies?
Plus she keeps accidentally insulting them.
And they hate it when she does that.
Well, you just have to tell them.
That's the other reason we asked you here.
♪ We're here for a good time ♪
♪ not a long time... ♪
I am so glad you made it, Taylor.
You look pretty good for a dead chick.
Oh, thank you!
Is Trisha Dumont here yet?
At my funeral and still zooming chicks.
Life goes on, doesn't it?
Yes, it does.
Love the coffin.
Live fast, die hard.
They really do have big news.
Are Beau and Crystal breaking up?
That would be so great.
I'll just let them tell you when they get here.
Aw, come on, you guys!
It's better coming from him.
He's the professional life doctor guy.
Crystal!
Welcome!
Oh...
I wasn't sure if you'd come.
Well, we had nothing better to do.
Oh, hi. Nice to see you again.
Wow.
It's like shaking a catcher's mitt.
I just wanted to say
how sorry I am for your loss...
Of yourself.
One day at a time.
Come on, let me introduce you around.
Oh, Anna,
take care of the baby.
I don't know, I'm a little drunk.
Well, if you get really drunk,
just hand it off to someone.
Come on.
Hello, baby.
Look, I'm sorry we started off on the wrong...
Oh, sure,
fall asleep!
That's your answer to everything.
And whose place is this again?
It's Millie Upton.
She's a client of mine.
Today's her funeral.
Oh, I'm so sorry.
Oh, that's okay. She's not dead.
What can we say about Millie Upton?
Hmm, that's a good question,
and one that I encourage you all to answer.
So, to start things off,
a dear friend of the deceased--
Joyce Haddison.
What?
Trisha...
Enjoying yourself?
Uh-huh.
Two funerals in one week.
Makes you think.
Sorry, this is rude.
I shouldn't be texting and talking to you
at the same time.
Oh, well, that's--
Excuse me.
Okay, no more running away.
Beau and Crystal have something to tell you.
Go ahead, Beau.
Thanks, Stan.
Mom...
Dad...
I'm gay.
Does that mean you're breaking up with Crystal?
Aw, come on!
The truth, Beau.
Fine.
The truth is...
Crystal and I, we...
We have a baby.
Okay, okay...
Where's the camera?
Camera?
Some life coach brings us to a funeral
for a woman who isn't dead
to tell us that our gay son has a baby?
It's a joke, right?
It's all true,
except for the gay part.
Another thing, uh, Millie likes is corn dogs.
Ugh!
Come on!
Is that all you've got?
Anna...
Mr. and Mrs. Ridgeway,
meet your granddaughter.
What the hell?
Is this our car thingie?
Where's the baby?
Uh, maybe you should hold her.
Now, I can expl--
Oof!
Hey, take it outside!
We're trying to pay our respects over here!
Oh, I think we'd all rather watch a fight.
It's over! The giant won!
Now start saying nice things about me.
Sorry about that.
I thought you were stealing my kid.
I should be thanking you.
This black eye is a way better ice breaker
than some dumb baby.
What a sweetheart.
What's her name?
We're thinking maybe... Anna.
Really?
She stops crying whenever you're around.
Did you hear that, Stan?
The baby loves me.
I don't blame her.
So do I.
Would you clam up?
Who brings a baby to a funeral?
Hey, Joyce,
you'd better finish big, 'cause you're losing 'em.
Oh, forget it.
Who has a funeral before they're dead?
The same person who challenges Margaret Atwood
to leg wrestle at Lilith Fair,
that's who.
Hey, what's so funny?
People are still wondering who would have won.
I mean, I'm not saying
you're unpredictable, Millie,
but you're the only author I know
who's been physically removed from a library.
Oh, I could tell you Millie stories...
I know a good Millie story!
This is the worst fake funeral ever.
...So Millie had the guy
from the Guinness Book of World Records behind her,
and a punch bowl full of boiled eggs
in front of her.
What is so strange?
I was just trying to beat the record.
It was only 65!
You quit eating after four.
Wow...
Really nice, guys.
I invite you to my funeral
and you all take turns making fun of me.
I wouldn't make fun of you at your funerals.
I wouldn't say, "Oh, yeah, I remember Joyce.
She only had lasting relationships with two guys,
Glen Livet and Johnny Walker.
Or, "Oh, yeah,
"I remember old Taylor.
"He would chase anything in a skirt,
until he went to Scotland."
Oh...
I see Crystal over there laughing.
Crystal grew up so rich
she had an offshore piggy bank.
Oh, but I want to tell you...
Oh, hey, there's Stan and Anna.
They're living proof
that you can live on nothing but love...
If you don't care where you live.
Hey-oh!
She may not be dead, but she's killing.
Whoo! This is the best funeral I have ever been to!
Hey, who here's from out of town?
One day,
Missy Grumpaloo woke up so sick with the grumpapox
that she thought she was going to die.
Missy gathered her friends around
for one last goodbye,
but all they did
was criticize the way she had lived her life.
Much to her friends' surprise,
Missy made a full recovery,
and much to Missy's delight,
grumpapox are contagious.
Sync & corrections by Alice www.addic7ed.com