Funeral

Funeral is the sixth episode of the British sitcom Peep Show. It originally aired on October 24, 2003. Lines in parentheses represent internal monologues spoken by the characters via voice-over.

Transcript
[Opening credits]

[Inside a parked car, Mark in the front passenger’s seat, Sophie in the backseat packing sports equipment in her bag]

Mark: Plus it was so cold and wet and boring in the outfield. I mean personally, I don't think I've ever seen a ball that slippery, have you?

Sophie: It was a difficult catch, Mark. I wouldn't worry. And it's just softball.

Mark: (This is it. All systems are go. The apple is ripe, the cross hairs are centralized.)  Soph, I was wondering, do you like Indonesian food?

Sophie: Um, Thai, I quite like so …

Mark: (It's too much. I'm not American. I can't date. Restaurant on a barge? I might as well ask her to marry me. The pub. That's the English way.)

Sophie: Why?

Mark: Oh just, nothing. But listen, everyone's going to the pub. You want to?

Sophie: The whole work gang? I don't think so. Do you mind if I get changed?

Mark: Oh, no, no, not at all. (Oh, my God. She's taking off her top. This is very promising. Or is it? Would she do this if she fancied me? Maybe we're  -- oh, God, no, no, we're only bloody friends!)

[In living room of Mark and Jez’s flat.]

Mark: And then she gave me a peck on the cheek. It's a living nightmare!

Jez: Uh-huh.

Mark: I've got to close the deal, I’ve gotta ask her out without actually asking her out. One step forward, two steps back, that's the key to progress.

Jez: Mmm, yeah.

Mark: So how was your day?

Jez: Oh, fine. Kind of weird, Mum rang to say that my Uncle Ray is a bit ill.

Mark: Yeah? Is it serious?

Jez: Dunno. He's gone in to the hospice, so I guess he's being looked after.

Mark: Hospice? You -- Jez, you know what a hospice is, don't you?

Jez: Like a hospital but nicer.

Mark: A hospice is where people go to -- who are terminally ill.

Jez: Oh, right. Yeah, Mum said he was-- what you said. I'm sure he'll be fine. He's not a quitter.

Mark: Well, I have to say, probably not, mate. Probably not.

Jez: No, he won't quit. Do you know what I fancy now? [picks up remote] Some Good Life. Where's more Good Life?

''[changes channel and lands on video for Enya’s Orinoco Flow. Singing in background “…s''ail away, sail away, sail away…”

Mark: Have you thought about giving him a call?

Jez: Ray? No. No. He's probably got people calling him night and day. He’s probably sick of it. I thought probably best just to give him some peace and quiet.

[Jez changes the channel again]

Mark: I don’t know, I think maybe you should call him.

[In hospital room, Jez and Mark have come to visit Uncle Ray, who is lying in a hospital bed]

Jez: Good to see you, Uncle Ray. What you been up to?

Ray: Well, mostly I've been lying in bed taking painkillers.

Jez: Right. Cool. (Jesus, that wasn't a very friendly joke. At least I came.)

Mark: So, Ray, Jez tells me you worked on the force.

Ray: That's right, Mark. 30 years.

Mark: Blimey. So must be nice, getting a bit of support from your police mates. The force. You can trust the force, can't you?

Ray: Yeah.

Jez: (What's this? This is meant to be my visit. He's hijacking my visit.)

Ray: Mostly they just eat my wine gums and look embarrassed.

Jez: (Come on, say something. Something not about dying. Something inspiring.) Yeah.

Mark: People can be so funny when it comes to illness, can't they? I mean, it's good that you, you know [Mark glances up at the crucifix on the wall above Ray’s bed.]

Ray:  Yeah, that's the one upside of this whole thing. Rediscovered that little guy with the crown of thorns and the big old heart.

Mark: Yeah, that's really a great thing to have, a faith.

Jez: Yeah. Oh, yeah. Yeah. (That's nice. Ray's such a nice guy. What a shame everything he believes is total rubbish.)

[In living room of Mark and Jez’s flat, Jeremy is on the phone while Mark looks on.]

Jez: OK, well, thanks for calling, Mum. OK, I will. Bye.

Mark: Has it—is…?

Jez: Ray's dead.

Mark: Oh, man, I'm sorry.

Jez: Uncle Ray. Football, ciggies. He was gonna make me a bow and arrow that could go through a metal dustbin. He never did, of course but, wow.

[An obnoxious scene of loud music and flashing lights plays on the television in the background.]

Mark: Shall I turn over?

Jez: Yeah. Maybe some Newsnight or something.

[Mark reaches for the remote but stops short when Jez stars speaking.]

Jez: I mean, I wish maybe the family could come together. We could campaign, against, or for something. Maybe a foundation. The Ray Foundation, for Christians and coppers.

Mark: That's a nice idea.

Jez: Something positive's got to come out of all this. Something.

[Music on the television intensifies, and Mark and Jez both turn their attention back to it to watch scantily clad women dancing.]

[In Toni’s apartment, where she is blow-drying her hair at her dressing table.]

Jez: [shouting over the sound of the blow-dryer] I guess I just need some comfort right now. I mean, why does it have to happen? Why does death happen?

Toni: Shit Jeremy, I don't even know which day the bin-men come.

Jez: (Oh, this is pretty low, milking Uncle Ray to get a -- hey, I'm feeling bad, why not get some nooky out of it?) I just feel so alone, you know?

Toni: Sure! It's like after Tony left, I thought, this is it, everything's over. But then I thought, hey, no, sort it out. Buy a juicer.

Jez: Right, but Toni maybe…

Toni: Listen, you really better go. These classified dates can be very uptight about times.

Jez: Go? But Toni, I really feel that tonight, I just need someone to –

Toni: Jeremy, this is a hot one. He's six foot, he loves movies and walks, and we totally clicked on the phone.

Jez: (I can’t believe she would be this heartless to someone who's as upset as I say I am. Maybe I am as upset as I say I am, it's just coming out in a weird way.) Toni, listen, nothing could make me feel better about Ray's death. Except maybe one thing could make me feel better.

Toni: Look, Jeremy, death happens, people die, you gotta move on. My dad died when I was three but I haven’t let it screw me up.

Jez: Right.

Toni: I don't waste my life looking for a man to fill a dad-shaped hole.

[Toni opens the door to greet a gray-haired man for her date.]

[At JLB Credit, Mark is in his office squeezing a stress toy.]

Mark: (It's perfect. Big social occasion but no invites. It's not a date, but it is. What if it all goes right, though? What do I do about my massive, freakish balls? Don't get ahead of yourself.)

[Mark approaches Sophie at the file shelves.]

Mark: Hey, Soph.

Sophie: Hey, Mark, how's it going?

Mark: Well, actually, things have been a bit tough to be honest. Jeremy's uncle passed away yesterday.

Sophie: Oh, no. Oh, that is difficult, is he OK?

Mark: Yeah, bearing up, you know. But listen, Sophie, I wanted to ask you, might you be free on Friday? For the funeral?

Sophie: The funeral?

Mark: (Oh. Oh no, shit. It's not perfect, it's cracked. Oh piss.) I mean, you don't have to. I just thought it might be nice if—

Sophie: No no, I'd be honored. I mean if you want a friend to go, then—

Mark: No, no, not friend. No. As a kind of date. I mean I thought afterwards, if you like, we could go somewhere.

Sophie: Won't there be a wake?

Mark: Somewhere like the wake.

Sophie: Ok sure, great, um, uh, if that's OK, I'm invited?

Mark: That's the beauty, no invites at a funeral.

Sophie: Right.

[In a church, a man at the front reads aloud from a book.]

Funeral speaker: "As Jonno let rip with the stolen Kalashnikov, and Squarehead fired off a round of monkey puzzler, I looked down at the towel-head I'd just slotted…

Mark: (Jesus, where did they get this guy? This whole thing is a freak show. Why am I even here? Why is she here?) [Mark looks over at Sophie.]

Funeral speaker: “…I didn't stop to think about it long. We all get slotted sometime.”

[The funeral speaker returns to his seat and Jeremy’s Aunt Liz takes his place.]

Aunt Liz: Thanks, Keith. Scorpio Patrol, Real Life Behind Enemy Lines. One of my brother's favorites. Now as I was saying, whilst no one would suggest that the faith Ray claimed to find in those last few weeks was only a product….

Jez: (God I'm so pleased we stopped going to Liz's for Christmas. Oh thanks for the fair-trade nuts again, Auntie. She's loving this. What a stitch-up.)

Aunt Liz: …now, in the humanist ceremony at this point, we like to encourage anyone who wants to share a thought or memory or reflection about my brother, to speak up.

Jez: (Words coming…)

[Sophie places her hand on Mark’s arm in support.]

Mark: (Hey, yeah, OK. The sympathy vote.)

Jez: (I'm gonna blow this gaffe wide open.) [Jez stands up.] Uh, yeah. I spent some time with Ray before he went. And I just wanted to say that um I think we should all remember that Ray, by the end, he loved Jesus. Now, I know, Liz, there's no proof for Jesus, but then there's no proof for lots of things like science or the stock market, and we believe in them. Look, what I'm trying to say is that, if I was dying, and I decided that even though I'd never particularly been into, say uh…Enya before, but that now I really, really was into Enya and that in fact I thought Enya was great, and that Enya died for our sins and I wanted an Enya-themed funeral with pictures of Enya and lots and lots of mentions of… Enya, then I think it would be a bit bloody rich for my sister to ban all mention of Enya from my funeral. Yeah?

[Congregation breaks into hesitant applause.]

Mark: (Well done, Jez, old mate, you did him proud. Oh, poor Ray. He's in there, in that cardboard box. I can't believe--)

[Sophie squeezes Mark’s arm and looks at him sympathetically.]

Mark: (Shit! This just gets better and better!)

[At the wake following the funeral, Jez is speaking to a small group gathered closely around him.]

Jez: Yeah, I guess it just came from in here, [touches his chest] or maybe - up there? ''[points at ceiling, crowd nods and murmurs in agreement]. ''Yeah? Here's to God!

Crowd: To God!

[Sophie and Mark sit together at a quiet table.]

Sophie: Can I get you anything?

Jez: No, I'm OK, I'll be fine. I've got to be strong for Jeremy.

Sophie: Yeah he was great, wasn't he? Moments like this really make you realize how short life is, you know.

Mark: Right. One minute we're alive, the next we're dead.

Sophie: Sometimes we're so wrapped up in the nonsense of life.

Mark: Right, yeah. I mean, if I want an Xbox, why don't I just get an Xbox?

Sophie: Yeah. [Sophie looks skeptical.]

Mark: (You're losing her.) It's a brief candle. A bloody brief candle.

Sophie: Yep.

Mark: Sophie, c-can I say how beautiful you look?

Sophie: Thank you, Mark.

Mark:  Can-- can I kiss you, Sophie? [they lean in for a long romantic kiss] (Oh, my God. Umm what about my abnormal knackers? Ooh, this is nice. How weird are they? What I really need is a good, long look at another man's bollocks. But that's so fraught with potential problems.)

Mark: Oh. That was nice.

Sophie: Yeah, that was nice.

Mark: (Thank you Ray! Thank you Ray! Thank you Ray!)

[The crowd around Jeremy cheers and breaks into song as he chugs a yard of ale.]

Crowd: [singing} Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war!

{Mark and Sophie kiss again.]

[Back at the flat, Jez sits alone in the dark living room watching television and smoking.]

Man on television: …so it means it must have been taken shortly before he died…

Jez: (Yep that’s God. You think you're in, and then the smiting, and the plagues and the pestilence starts. Shit, I can't believe it.)

[Mark turns on the hall light and enters the living room.]

Mark: Hey, Jez! I've got news!

Jez: So have I.

Mark: Sophie's coming away with me to a cottage with a bed for the weekend! Now, listen mate, I need to ask you a straight-up, man-to-man question about bollocks.

Jez: The hospital called. What Ray died of, Boden-Georgeson syndrome, - it's hereditary.

Mark: What? Y-you're kidding.

Jez: I might have it. They want me to go in for tests.

Mark: Tests? Jesus, mate. Fuck. No, are you OK?

Jez: Yeah. No. To be honest, I'm scared.

Mark: Look, don't be scared.

Jez: I am scared.

Mark: Don't be scared.

Jez: I am scared.

Mark: That's fine, that's fine. It's perfectly natural to be scared.

[Mark sits in a doctor’s exam room.]

Mark: (Doctor Runciman has seen this a thousand times. It's just two guys, one with his hand on the other guy's balls.

[An attractive young nurse enters the room.]

Nurse: Mark Corrigan? Dr. Runciman's on call. I'm the practice nurse.

Mark: Oh. Pleased to meet you. (No. No, no, no, no, no.)

Nurse: So how can I help? 

Mark: Oh, it was just-- I think I should probably see the doctor. You know, not that I've got anything against your kind.

Nurse: Well if you tell me the problem, we can see if I can deal with it.

Mark: Basically, it's, uh not wishing to beat about the bush, it's a problem with-- with my…

Nurse: Penis?

Mark: Test-ist-icles. So if you'd feel happier, I –

Nurse: OK, trousers down, hop on the couch. Let's have a look at the little fellows.

[Mark drops his pants and climbs onto the exam bench.]

Mark: (Oh, I hope I don't-- no leaping to attention, Captain Corrigan. I mean anyone would say she's an attractive woman. She should have to wear a mask for this kind of thing. Reagan or Batman or -- actually, she'd look pretty horny as Batman. Jesus, no, don't!) So have you—have you worked here long?

[The nurse turns on the exam light and aims it at Mark’s groin.]

Nurse: Blimey.

Mark: Blimey? What's blimey?

[Nurse reaches down to handle Mark’s testicles.]

Nurse: That doesn’t feel painful, does it?

Mark: No, no, no, that feels great. I mean, not great, just normal. (Ooh, how much can a man take?)

Nurse: Yep, you've got a large hydrocele, nothing to worry about, a simple outpatient’s procedure. The scalpel just slips in at the back of the scrotum.

Mark: (Yep, that's cooled things off, that’s a regular bucket of water right there.)

[In Mark and Jez’s flat, Jez is looking through a variety of books about religions.]

Jez: (‘Abandon self-cherishing, love only others.’ Yeah, well, Mr. Dalai Lama, I suppose you've got to be a suck-up if you haven't got your own country. OK, stay focused. Don't have to do them all, just ‘til you find something to hold on to. Let’s see, let’s prioritize. Islam. Not really such a fashionable religion. Hinduism? That's got a nice vibe. Find out the Hin-do’s and the Hin-don'ts. Good old Bible. Bit ‘dribble not the ass's milk on a Tuesday’. Anyway, I know most of that from The Omen.)

[Mark enters the room carrying his packed luggage.]

Mark: OK, Jez, mate. I think that's about it.

Jez: Uh-huh. Well, have a good time, mate.

[Mark exits to the hallway, where Sophie is waiting for him.]

Sophie: Is he OK?

Mark: I don't know. He gets the test results on Monday. What do you think?

Sophie: He seems a bit on edge.

Mark: The thing is, he's not definitely dying. He's not even definitely ill.

Sophie: Yeah, yeah you're probably right. But what about the carving on his arm?

Mark: I think that's just Biro. Anyway, he seems to be over that now. And the whinnying. Things are looking positive. He's investigating the key to all spiritualities.

[Back in the living room, Jez is watching an inspirational show on television.]

Woman on tv: Every day try and read a poem, listen to inspiring music, look at a wonderful painting, or go into nature…

Jez: (On the other hand I could finish off the last of that skunk, sit on Big Suze's dildo and wank myself dry. I could go to that place Super Hans says is a knocking shop. If it’s not, bang a tab and get a four hour massage.)

[Mark re-enters the living room.]

Mark: Uh Jez. Me and Soph, we were just having a chat, and, well, what we were saying is that actually what we both really want is for you to come along on our weekend.

Jez: Yeah? Oh, I kind of had plans.

Mark: Oh, come on, you can take your religious texts with you. (Maybe he really doesn't want to come!)

Jez: No point, I’ve got that taped, it's all bullshit. (God, he really really wants me to come.)

Mark: It'll just be such a laugh. (Please say no, please say no.)

Jez: Uh, well, all right. I guess, if you really want me to. (God, I didn't realize he was this terrified of sex.)

[It is late evening and Mark is walking toward the cottage he has rented for the weekend.]

Mark: (If I can just get the first one over without a major embarrassment. First fuck is damage limitation. In, out, as much pleasure as I can give her, apologize, and then we can move on.)

[Mark enters the cottage to see Sophie sitting on the sofa, and Jeremy lounging on the floor watching porn on tv, smoking, and surrounded by alcohol bottles.]

Mark: (Jesus, look at him. What a disaster.)

Sophie: ''[looking at Risk board game]. ''Jeremy, it's your go, isn't it?

Jez: Uh, whatever. Carry on, I just want to rewind this bit.

Mark: Do you have to? We're trying to play a game.

Jez: Mark, I gave you the choice, it’s either Tom and Barbara being nice or Gloria and Mitzy being nasty.

Mark: Well, if you don't want your go, I'll take mine, I’m attacking Irkutsk.

Jez: Fine, whatever. Can't you get it into your tiny closed-off little mind that I just don't give a flying fuck?

Mark: Yeah well you will when I take Asia.

Jez: Blah blah blah blah blah blah Mark! Nothing means anything! It's all just shit, the whole thing! Games, snacks, fires, man, woman, love. ‘Cause we're all gonna end up in the cold, deep ground, and that's all there is, OK?

Mark: Well, fine. I'm off for a shower. Good night, Jeremy. See you in the bed, room, Soph.

Sophie: Yeah, sure.

[Mark exits the room.]

Jez: (Oh, what I really want's a woman. Oh God, I'm never gonna have a woman again in my life. I never planted my seed. My loins are like dried buckwheat. It's not fair.)

Sophie: So Jeremy, I'm going to turn in. Hope you sleep OK.

Jez: Uh, thanks.

[Sophie leaves the room, Jez follows.]

Jez: Uh, Sophie, could I have a quick word? In private.

Sophie: Sure, I mean, this is private.

[Jez leads her into a bedroom, where they both sit down on the bed.]

Sophie: Must be hell for you, trying to cope with all this.

Jez: Well, yeah.

[Jez makes a sudden lunge forward in an attempt to kiss Sophie, she pulls back.]

Jez: Bloody hell, what are you doing?!

Jez: Oh, go on Soph. This could be the last time I do it with anyone. Can you imagine how committed I'd be?

Sophie: I'm here with Mark!

Jez: Mark doesn't love you. He doesn't even like you.

Sophie: What?

Jez: He-- he said he's only snogging you for a joke. And he draws horrible, vicious cartoons of you and then wraps them up in sausage meat and calls you a sausage muncher.

Sophie: You're drunk, Jeremy. Let’s just both try and get some sleep.

Jez: Go on! I might be dead in a week!

[Jez makes another desperate lunge, Sophie again pulls away.]

Sophie: Jeremy look, I'm flattered, but I'm here with Mark and--

Jez: What about a threes-up?

Sophie: Jeremy, Mark's—

Jez: All right, OK, I get the message.

''[Jez stands up to leave, but hears Mark returning, so he ducks behind the door. Mark enters, unaware of Jez’s presence.]''

Mark: Sophie? Jez must've gone for a walk. Thank God for that. You think he'd be more grateful. He'll change his tune when I'm the one in charge of the morphine supply.

Jez: [stepping out from his hiding place] Oh! It's like that, is it?! That's how it's going to be, is it? Well, excuse me! [storms out in a huff.]

Mark: Jez, I didn't—I mean, I didn't mean—

[Close-up of Sophie’s skin in motion, Mark and Sophie are in bed together making out.]

Mark: (Oh, wow. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah, she is so-- where am I? Put your tongue out and see. Neck? Yeah, neck. Oh. Whoo-hoo-ho-ho, ha-ha! You can do that again, oh, yeah!)

Sophie: Mark?

Mark: Yeah?

Sophie: Are you going to take your pants off?

Mark: Uh, yeah. Yeah, I will. But, Sophie, before I do, I need to prepare you for something. I intend to have an operation, but until I do, I don't want you to be alarmed by the size of my—

Sophie: Mark, stop boasting and get some johnnies.

Mark: Shit, they're in the bathroom. Stay right there, don't go away.

Sophie: I'm not going anywhere.

Mark: (Got to be quick. Don't want to have to get her all worked up again. Jesus, did she say johnnies plural? Hope she doesn't think I'm some sort of superman.)

[Mark walks out into the living room to see Jez sprawled out on the floor in front of the tv, apparently unconscious with empty liquor bottles all over.]

Mark: (Couldn't even be bothered to go to bed. It's pathetic, really.)

[As he gets closer, he notices an open bottle of pain medication lying empty on the floor.]

Mark: (What's--? Oh, my God he's—no! Don't be dead, mate. Shit, no. Oh, God, no.)

[Mark glances at the tv, where Tenko is playing.]

Mark: (In front of Tenko! That was probably the last straw. Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck, don't be dead, mate! Please don't be dead! My cock's gone right down! Fuck.) Sophie! Soph, something awful has happened!

[Inside rear of ambulance from Jez’s perspective as he lies on the gurney and re-opens his eyes, becoming aware of the presence of Mark, Sophie, and a paramedic who look on.]

Jez: Huh… what?

Mark: He's opened his eyes! Jez, we’re right here Jez!

Jez: What? What's going on?

Mark: You're in safe hands now, Jez, you’re gonna be alright.

Paramedic: Was he behaving strangely before he took the overdose?

Mark: No. No more than usual.

Sophie: Well, he did-- I didn't tell you this, he did make a pass at me.

Mark: A pass? He-- the bloody-- he's been under a lot of stress recently.

Paramedic: How many pills did you take, Jeremy? It's really important you remember how many pills you took.

Jez: Pills? Just the one.

Sophie: He's delirious, the whole bottle was empty.

Jez: Yeah, it was the last one. I had a headache. I-- has anyone got any Coke? My mouth's all—

Mark: I invite you here and you repay me by trying to, have it away with my girlfriend!

Sophie: I don't think girlfriend's quite—

Jez: I've been feeling very low, you know?

Mark: Oh, were you? Were you?

Jez: Yeah. I was feeling desperate. I mean, that's why. That's why I took the overdose.

Mark:  What? But you—

Jez: I couldn't admit it. I was ashamed but, I did it. The bottle was full, I-- I took the whole lot.

Paramedic: OK, if you two step to one side, I'm gonna do a stomach pump.

Jez: What? Uh, no actually, look I admit it, I was joking. I was lying just then, not before. I didn't take an overdose, you can put away the hardware. I didn’t do anything I was lying just then not before. Don't pump me! Don't pump me!

[At JLB Credit, Mark approaches Sophie from behind in the kitchen and pinches her on the bottom.]

Sophie: What the fuck?

Mark: Soph, don’t worry, it's only me, I've got something for you.

Sophie: Yeah don't do that, you shouldn’t do that.

Mark: But I checked, no one was coming.

Sophie: That's not the point.

Mark: It's not?

Sophie: No, Mark, umm, we need to have a talk.

Mark: A talk? Oh.

Sophie: Mark, a funeral, it's an emotional time, there’s lots of emotions.

Mark: Are you finishing with me?

Sophie: We weren't ever really.

Mark: Oh. Right.

Sophie: Not that something might not, some day, but I mean everything was a bit ‘whoosh!’ and I'd much rather it was a bit more ‘dum-de-dum-de-dum’ you know.

Mark: OK, well, that's just I guess you know— [Mark gives an awkward double thumbs-up.]

Sophie: Did you want to give me something?

Mark: Uh, no, it's— [Mark pulls a pair of black lace panties out of his pocket and holds them out to Sophie.] --it's your pants.

Sophie: Oh.

Mark: I found them in my suitcase and I thought you-- anyway, uh here you go. [Mark folds them into a small square and hands it to Sophie.]

Sophie: Uh, well thanks.

Mark: Not a problem.

Sophie: OK, well I'll see you-- see you not around, but here.

Mark: OK, g- great. See you.

''[Sophie exits the kitchen and Mark picks up a mug from the counter and throws it violently to the floor, where it smashes. Sophie reappears almost immediately, and has to step through the broken mug shards to retrieve a file folder she accidentally left on the counter. They smile at one another awkwardly.]''

[In the hallway in front of Toni’s apartment, a teary-eyed Toni opens the door to find a downcast Jez.]

Jez: So I, uh-- I got the test results. It's positive.

Toni: Oh dear. Oh, Jez.

Jez: [noticing that she’s been crying] Are you OK?

Toni: It's all broken. It's knackered. He dumped me. Daddy's gone again. [Toni breaks down crying, Jez nods sympathetically.]

[Inside Toni’s apartment, we see a reflection in a mirror of the two of them sitting on a couch together, and the unmistakable sound of a handjob in progress.]

Toni: I don’t know why it happens. There are all these people out there singing and dancing but it’s never me, you know?

Jez: Uh huh. Mmm-hmm.

Toni: Oh I'm sorry, I'll shut up. My problems are just like nothing compared to-- three months?

Jez: Three to six.

Toni: Jesus, Jeremy. Jesus.

Jez: (I'll say miracle drug cure. Maybe she'll give me another one as congratulations. Oh God, hope she doesn't start crying again. Got to-- before she-- come on. Oh, I am gonna feel so low just as soon as this is over.)

[Closing credits play to Enya’s Orinoco Flow.]