Good Advice (2001) Movie Script
Oh my god, don't do that.
Don't do... this?
Yes!
Don't do that some more.
Tell me.
Or I won't do this.
Okay.
All I know is he's in D.C.
Buying some company.
Don't stop!
No. I'm stopping.
Ryan, if I wanted to talk business
I'd have sex with my husband.
Which company?
Hi, Donald and Veronica
can't come...
Veronica? It's me.
- My god, it's Donald!
- Pick it up.
Call me when you get back.
- Hi, sweetie.
- Hey, baby.
I was about to hang up.
Whatcha doing?
Uh...
having my nails done.
I wanted to tell you my plane's landing
in an hour. I'm gonna play a quick 18,
- then we'll go to dinner, okay?
- Okay.
Listen, sweetie, I gotta run.
My manicurist is
givin' me dirty looks.
- I'll see you tonight.
- All right, talk to you then.
I gotta run, too.
Why?! We have all afternoon.
Donald's playing golf.
I know.
I'm playing with him.
What?!
Let's head for long island.
Beautiful shot!
200 yards.
Right at the flag.
Keep your compliments coming,
and your balls in the rough.
I'll do my worst, sir.
Where'd you learn
to swing like that?
Business school.
How'd things go
in D.C.?
After our little meeting,
and the half a million
additional shares I purchased,
we have full cooperation
from the Jasco
Pharmaceuticals Board.
Sir, that much stock'll put you
over the limit.
Not if you don't buy it
in your own name.
Sounds like Simpson Publishing's
involved in a merger.
Watch CNBC tomorrow morning.
Cindy, what do you say
we get drinks tonight?
Never.
Great, rain check it is, then.
Ryan Turner's on line one.
Hey, gorgeous.
Hey, honey.
What are you doing?
You... in about eight hours.
Oh, Ryan,
you are so romantic.
- I know.
- Are we still on for dinner?
Yes, we are.
I'll meet you there at 8:00.
And wait till you see what
I have planned for dessert.
Oooh, I'll bring the cherry.
- I wish.
- Bye.
I understand the possibility
of breaking a nail
is looming over every word,
but your deadline is...
now.
Okay! Jeez!
Why does everybody
want something from me?
You write an advice column?
I have problems too, you know.
Yes, I know.
I mean, listen to this letter,
"Dear Cindy, I want
to go back to school,
but my husband is against it.
What should I do?"
I mean, this woman
is such a mess.
So what did you tell her?
"Why do you need school?
You have a husband.
If you want to feel
better about yourself, do charity work.
Go build hairdo's
for the homeless,
better yet,
go get your own hair done."
This woman pours
her heart out to you,
and you give her beauty tips?
What's wrong here?
I haven't given you any.
Cindy, this is
a quality newspaper.
Page, we're not friends,
so I can be honest with you.
My grandmother's legs
had better circulation
than this "quality" newspaper.
no one even buys it.
Then I would be happy
to buy out your contract.
I wish!
But we both know you're flat...
broke.
So you'll just have
to let me do what I do.
With the style, grace,
and femininity
I do it with.
I love it when you sing, honey,
it really turns me on.
Really? ha ha.
where do you want to go shopping?
Whoa!
We're walking here!
Huh?
She's just like my therapist.
Turning everything around
making it seem like
- I'm the one with the problem.
- Then quit.
You said nobody reads
your column anyways.
I can't just quit.
It's not like I have a husband
to take care of me.
So what's with the champagne?
I got information
from Donald Simpson
about a merger.
It'll make my clients...
and me... a fortune.
If Simpson told you,
isn't that illegal?
No. Donald would never
risk an S.E.C. violation.
I overheard him
and his lawyers.
This is the opportunity
of a lifetime.
I'm even margining
my own portfolio.
- It's buying on credit.
- They don't even give you a card.
- You checked this out?
- Of course.
Simpson himself bought stock...
in his wife's maiden name.
- Which stock?
- Jasco Pharmaceuticals.
They're developing
some anti-aging drug.
When it hits the shelves,
the stock could jump 1000%.
You could still get in.
Nnnn...
Nnn-no! Forget it.
We'll handle anti-aging
the old fashioned way.
Surgery! Right, honey?
Yeah. Whatever.
A toast!
Come on.
To Kathy's new ass,
Barry's successful practice,
and Ryan,
becoming a rich partner,
so we can enjoy the life
we deserve and more.
And more.
And more! and more!
I gotta go.
Where are you going?
Come back here.
Ryan, I love you.
I know. But I've got to go to work.
It's 3:00 a.m.
I've got to call Tokyo
before they close.
Feel free to sleep in.
Sleep in?
How about I move in?
I'm serious. We'd get to see
so much more of each other.
I'm ready to have
a doorman in my life.
I like the way things are.
What would you say if I told you
I'd leave you if you didn't let me?
I'd say you were lying.
Oh really?
See?
Ryan, you know me so well.
We belong together.
We are together.
Walt?
Good morning,
Mr. Turner.
You're a doorman, Walt.
How good could it possibly be?
Thank you, sir.
Yo, bud.
You got a dollar?
Yeah, millions of them.
Me, too.
Hi, Ryan Turner-san.
Good to hear from you again.
Asahi, Hakashiro-san.
I have got a very lucrative investment
you need to jump on
immediately.
You gonna give bowie
that tidbit as well?
Michael, you know you're
my favorite client.
Bowie's only my favorite client
when I'm on the phone with him.
Well, he does sell more records than me.
doesn't he, Ryan?
Therefore, I want to have
one more share than him. Okay, man?
- Excellent.
- Thank you, Ryan.
Jasco will be up
at least 30 points before noon.
How in the hell
could you know that?
I can't tell you how I know...
Mrs. Ellis is on line two.
Hello, Marlene.
I want Jasco...
good choice.
Excellent choice.
- Don't thank me now.
- But I want to.
If you're on this
side of the world, let's get together.
- It's a date.
- All righty.
Are you in or out?
All right, put me down
for 10,000 shares, market price.
You folks at beacon trade
never let me down before.
Done.
Rumors of a merger
fueled an early morning explosion
of Jasco Pharmaceutical Stock,
but now trading has been halted
because a news conference
has been called.
Yes... yes!
No, I don't know why
he would have done that.
I'm going to look into it.
I'm on top of that, okay?
Thank you for calling.
Morning, sir.
Coffee?
About five hours ago.
File these buy orders,
and get my phone sheet, please.
Ted wants to see you.
You have the audacity
to call Amir,
my client,
at 5:00 a.m.?
Carl, while you were
sleeping at 5:00 a.m.
In your moderately
attractive suburban home,
with your moderately
attractive suburban wife,
assuring that my future
would look nothing like yours.
And by the way,
it was afternoon in Kuwait.
Very impressive numbers
this month, Ryan.
Thank you, sir. Wait till you see
the deal I'm working on now.
You keep this up and I can
see a partnership.
I guess we have
the same vision.
Excuse me.
Ryan, Donald Simpson's
holding a press conference.
Yes.
Watch this, sir.
This day is going
to change my life.
Jasco was riding
a tide of speculation,
but the press conference
that just wrapped up
turned out to be less
than positive.
So in the final analysis
we concluded that the merger
was not to our fiscal
advantage.
Simpson publishing
has voted to focus
on our core interest, which is
the newspaper business.
What? What?
With trading halted,
Jasco pharmaceuticals
announced stunning news
that it has defaulted
on interest payments
on its debt,
and will file for bankruptcy.
It's stock is expected to
plummet when trading resumes.
You were right, Turner.
Jasco stocks
were gonna explode.
Kaboom!
Sir... sir, you're not
allowed in there.
You're not allowed in there.
What the hell's going on?
Turner, what are you doing?
Yesterday,
you said you were acquiring Jasco.
Oh, Ryan, Ryan.
Oh my god.
You didn't use that
inside information, did you?
Yes, I did.
- Did you lose a lot?
- A fucking fortune.
Client's money.
My own.
Ohhh!
Tsk, tsk, tsk.
Ryan...
Ryan.
You screwed my wife.
I screwed you back.
You would undermine
your own merger,
just for retribution?
Are you insane?
There's no stronger
motivation than money, or revenge.
I already have money.
Have a good day.
We just lost half
of our top clients, Ryan.
Why the hell did you do this?
I was set up.
It was false information.
The S.E.C. called.
You think they give a shit
about the fact that you were set up?
- This was all legal.
- What about due diligence?
We just lost $52 million
of our clients' money.
For what? A tip?
My source was Donald Simpson himself.
Oh, great. Well, I guess
you can ask him for a job.
No, wait, wait, wait...
It's the fucking S.E.C.!
If we keep you on it's going to look like
we condone insider trading.
I'm sorry.
Don't...
Don't do this, please.
I margined my own account.
Aww.
Well.
I guess you made
two stupid mistakes then.
I can't believe
this is happening to me.
Okay, okay. this changes
my plans completely.
But I'm an adapter.
I can make myself believe
that this is worse for you
than it is for me.
I just have to keep
reminding myself
that you are Ryan Turner.
Oh!
And honey,
if anyone can bounce back
from this you can.
Right?
- Sorry to keep you waiting.
- That's all right.
- Walk with me.
- Sure.
I guess you heard,
I left beacon trading.
Everybody's heard.
I have admired your firm
for quite awhile.
I figured now would be
a great time to join forces.
Unfortunately,
we're downsizing.
Jim, six months ago
you were begging me,
- now I'm...
- Poison.
I'm sorry, Ryan.
It's... I just...
I can't help you.
Nancy, hi.
Ryan.
I've been calling you for days.
Yeah, uh, I've been very busy.
It's been totally...
I got your messages.
There's gotta be
something you can do.
Look, Ryan,
I made some calls.
Looks like they might be
investigating you.
Ryan Edward Turner,
while this commission finds
insufficient evidence
for indictment,
your conduct leaves us
no alternative but to revoke
your broker's license.
This one was declined, too.
Try this one.
I'm gonna have to
keep this one.
But we accept food stamps.
You're jeopardizing
your economic future, Ryan.
Patrick, I don't really give a shit
about my future.
I'm gonna cash in
my retirement fund.
You're gonna pay
a hell of a penalty.
Just do it!
This is for the 13,500
we agreed on.
If you could just sign.
Here.
Great.
Good. We'll have
everything out by 5:00.
Mr. Turner,
I am so sorry
that you've been evicted from 989.
Thanks, Paul.
When I said I wanted
us to live together,
I meant at your place.
Ryan, you haven't moved
in a week.
Let's go out.
We're living together.
We're well past
the going out stage.
Fine! I'm going out
with Cathy then.
What's going on?
I'll put this delicately.
You're a loser
and I'm leaving you.
Things will get better.
I'm tired of watching
other people
enjoy the life I was
supposed to have.
My life is flying by.
Do you see a rock on my finger?
I get it.
Who is he?
He?
Oh, you think this
is about someone else?
Honey, this isn't
about someone else.
This is about you.
His name is Francisco,
and he owns a diamond mine
in Brazil.
When did you meet this guy?
Mm...
Tuesday, but he loves me.
So you're just giving up on us?
If god wanted me to marry poor
he would have made me homely.
What about your job?
What about your column?
Oh, I'm done
with everything here.
I'm jetting off
with Fran-chesco.
- Francisco.
- Yeah, him.
By the way, the rent's due.
That's a Zipkin, isn't it?
I don't know what
you're talking about.
Yeah?
Dr. Lou Zipkin,
Madison avenue.
Who told you?
Call me.
I can fix it.
Ass!
I can fix that, too!
Ryan, sorry I'm late.
I had to do a lipo-injection
on an anorexic woman.
Now she wants to be
the fat lady at the circus.
Cindy left me.
No?!
I didn't see that coming.
- Are you insulting my ex?
- Of course not.
- She's a bitch.
- Is all I was saying.
She left me
for some Brazilian guy.
And after all that work
I did on her.
We can build you a new one.
It's not just her.
My whole life is a mess.
I could kill myself,
but I'd probably go to hell,
and that would be redundant.
You'd be among friends.
Yeah, friends.
Nobody likes me, Barry.
Come on.
"nobody" is overstating it.
Was I that big an asshole?
I wouldn't say big.
Huge?
Gigantic.
Paul Bunyan comes to mind.
All right, I get it.
Let me have a beer.
Get him a beer.
Yeah?
Is Cindy there?
- Who's this?
- Who's this?!
You're calling me.
This is Page Hensen,
her publisher
from the "Journal."
who's this?
This is Ryan Turner,
her boyfriend,
- from Syracuse.
- Well...
she left a confusing message,
something about moving
to Brazil.
Can you tell me whether
she's coming to work,
or whether I can take
her off payroll?
Payroll?
Payroll. I don't have to pay her
if she doesn't work.
That's the way we do
things in this country.
It's progressive,
don't you think?
Apparently you misunderstood
Cindy's message.
What she was trying to say
was she's not moving to Brazil.
In fact, she's hardly
moving at all.
She's sick...
...Brazilian flu.
Brazilian flu?
Put her on the phone.
I can't.
She has laryngitis.
Her doctor ordered
total voice rest.
Her doctor?
What's his name?
Ah...
Dr. Barry Sherman.
Perhaps she should
take an extended leave.
No, Cindy wants to do
the column from bed.
She shouldn't be
without an income
when she's this sick,
should she?
Fine. I guess I have no choice.
I'll send her letters over.
No!
She's contagious.
I'll come pick them up.
She's contagious,
and he's coming here?
Oh boy!
Chelsea journal.
Sure, hang on one second.
I'm looking for Page Hensen.
And I'm looking for a man
who appreciates the sight
of a 70-year-old woman
in a bubble bath.
I see.
Is she available?
Business or pleasure?
Business.
Serious or monkey?
None of your.
Just tell her
Ryan Turner is here,
Cindy's friend.
The boyfriend's here.
Hi, I'm Page Hensen.
Hi, Ryan Turner.
Coffee?
- Sure.
- It's over there.
Let me...
say up front
that I am not
at all comfortable
with Cindy working from home.
I like to do things
a certain way around here.
What way is that?
Around here.
Where I can control them.
Are you telling me
you've ever controlled Cindy?
Well...
you're not wrong.
Which makes me right.
Other than brilliant,
it's my favorite thing to be.
That was a joke.
If you want levity,
Mr. Turner.
I can squeeze you in around 4:00 p.m.
a week from Thursday...
Cindy knows her deadline.
Have a nice day.
Cindy's deadline
is 3:00 p.m.
Thank you.
But I'm open-ended.
This the mail room?
Uh, duh!
I'm here to pick up all the letters from
the "Dear, Cindy" column.
All the letters?
That's what I said.
Okay.
I'll get you all the letters.
All the letters.
"Dear Cindy,
I have a small moustache,
but waxing is painful
and I can't afford
laser removal.
Do men really mind this?
Signed, hair lip."
"Dear Adolf, the only handlebar
a man wants to hold
is on a Harley.
If a guy wants to munch hair
he knows where to find it."
Damn!
That's good advice.
"Dear Cindy,
I'm planning my wedding,
but when I try to get
opinions about color schemes,
my fianc doesn't seem to care.
Does that mean that he really
doesn't want to get married?
Signed,
the wedding Zinger."
"Dear Zinger,
while you're looking
at wedding color schemes..."
"...he's out looking at all the ass
he's never gonna touch again.
Just make
the color scheme black,
'cause it's the darkest
day of his life."
these sound like
these were written
by some shallow,
callous anti-feminist.
May be you should
read them again?
Apparently, Cindy's ailment
hasn't heightened
her sensitivity.
Perhaps you're incapable
of seeing the insight
and profundity of her writing?
Are you implying I don't
know how to do my job?
How successful is
your little paper, anyway?
- You're right.
- Usually.
Perhaps we would be more
successful without this column.
Cancelled.
Wait a minute.
You can't do that.
Can! Have!
See the name plate?
- Let me tell you something...
- Whatever it is, Mr. Turner.
I suggest you save it for
a larger, more attentive crowd.
Fine. fine!
You don't deserve my...
girlfriend's brilliant mind.
Do you believe him?!
He is...
he has some...
ass!
Nerve!
Wait a sec.
Let me get this straight
while I'm sober.
- You took over Cindy's...
- Shh!
You took over...
column?
You can't tell a soul.
Or Cathy!
And the newspaper bought it?
Well, not exactly.
This so called publisher
called me... Cindy...
shallow, callous, insensitive,
then she fired
Cindy... me... us.
Oh, so you're still
out of work?
Oh no. I'm not finished.
I found Cindy's contract,
and she's not
taking this lying down...
sick as she is.
Well...
that Cindy's got balls.
She does now.
Couldn't keep away, could you?
Must be that bad girl vibe
I give off...
pheromones and poligrip.
Enticing,
but I'm here
to see Ms. Hensen.
She told me to send you away
if you ever showed up again.
So, if you want to get to her,
you have to go through me,
and I can map out
a very direct route.
How about a compromise?
I'll pinch your butt as we walk.
That's sexual harassment!
- That's foreplay.
- Ah.
All right.
No, wait.
Stop.
No, you can't.
I tried to stop him.
Iris, out.
Turner, follow.
I came to give you
one more chance.
Oh! This sounds good.
Cindy is devastated
that you would take advantage
of her disability as a pretense
to breach her contract.
You're not serious?
Please leave.
I'm sorry.
That didn't come out right.
Leave!
I recommend you reconsider
before her damages increase.
"Damages"?
Cindy's pain and suffering.
Mr. Turner,
you're on my turf,
and I know publishing.
Cindy wrote
about munching hair,
and getting ass.
She's the one
in breach, not me.
If you want to
take me on legally,
I'm ready for a fight.
Is Cindy?
No.
Iris, help.
Oh, what's this piece of paper
falling to the floor
with a home address on it?
Thank you.
She likes roses.
I like tulips.
Shit.
Go away, Mr. Turner.
I can't do that.
It's easy. Just pretend
you're walking in,
except go the other way.
Just give me two minutes.
I'm entertaining.
No, you're not.
I'll...
call the police.
No, you won't.
This is my home,
Mr. Turner.
I don't mix business
and pleasure.
I don't think you mix
pleasure and pleasure.
You are way out of line.
Just give me two minutes, and I promise
I'll never bother you again.
I came to...
apologize.
Two minutes.
And the tock is clicking.
Entertaining, huh?
Nice place...
I'm sure you came with a point.
I can't go back to Cindy and tell her
she lost her column.
I see. where will
you be going then?
Cindy is very sick.
Please, have a little empathy.
Empathy?
Every cent I could beg
and borrow went into my paper.
Cindy's column has never
really fit in with my vision.
She lacks warmth, insight,
and most important, sensitivity.
People change.
People's lives change.
People, I'm not so sure about.
Things happen that
change people.
Give her one more chance.
As a favor to me?
And what do I owe you?
When was the last time
you put on lipstick at this hour?
I'm not wearing lipstick.
Yes, you are.
I might be going out later.
No, you're not.
If I put my makeup on at night,
it saves me 20 minutes
in the morning.
Time's up.
Okay.
Hey.
One more chance.
See, you do have a soft spot.
And right now,
I'm starting to think
someone dropped me on it.
- "Dear Cindy... "
- Now remember, you've got
to reach down,
way past that cynicism.
"Dear Cindy..."
past those hardened layers
of egomaniacal self-absorption.
"Dear Cindy..."
you're a girl...
- I get it. Thanks.
- I'm saying be sensitive.
"Dear Cindy,
my ex and I broke up,
but I still can't stop
thinking about him.
Is four months too much time
to grieve my lost love?
Signed, not
a mourning person."
oh good, a neurotic one.
Now you, being
a sensitive woman, say...
"Four days is too much time.
The best way to get over a man,
is to get under a new one."
No, you can't say that.
I just did.
- It's not sensitive.
- Maybe it is to a woman.
No, say "He probably left you
'cause your ass got too big."
Say that, then tell her I can fix it.
put in my name and office number.
- This isn't about you.
- Well, it could be.
And I'll give you a finder's fee.
Barry, no.
Fine. read the next one.
"Dear Cindy, I caught
my husband cheating..."
probably due
to a falling backside...
gravity hits,
he loses interest.
It's sad, really.
Tell her I can fix it.
Put in my name
and office number.
Barry, no.
You're losing a lot of money
you could use.
This goes on.
"I caught my husband cheating,
but that's not the worst of it.
The woman is not half
as attractive as me.
Am I wrong for feeling
twice as hurt?"
What would a woman say?
Oh.
Oh god, not Cathy?
Ohm-mmm.
Ohm.
Ohmm...gonna get that.
Hello?
Hi, honey. Listen, I just need to
ask you a hypothetical question.
- Not now, I'm practicing yoga.
- No, it'll just take a second.
Say a man is cheating
with a woman
that's not half
as attractive as his wife,
should the wife be upset
that the other woman is ugly?
All right, you son-of-a-bitch,
who the hell is she?
What? No, no...
You couldn't be man enough
to tell me in person?
- Honey, honey...
- I'm sorry, proceed.
Wait, it's that bitch receptionist
with the hairy cleavage!
- Rhonda?
- I knew it! You cheatin' bastard.
I'll be off in a sec.
I'm calling a lawyer!
Cathy, honey, relax,
- I'm not cheating.
- What?
I swear, I would never.
Oh. Well...
then I say he deserves
to get stuck with the ugly one.
I gotta go, honey.
Love ya, bye.
What?
Somebody want to use the phone?
That's a good point.
What did she say?
Hmm?
Oh, that...
if the husband's cheating,
he deserves to end up
with the ugly one.
She may be onto something.
"They say dogs
are a man's best friend.
Your man found a real barker.
But remember,
when you lie down with dogs..."
"...you wake up with fleas.
But when you lie down
with ugly dogs,
you wake up alone, because
even the fleas don't want you."
I have to admit
they're... better.
Better?
Then that's good, right?
I don't know
what you said to her,
I told her she's not the only one
who's suffering.
Don't get me wrong,
I still think she has a long way to go.
But you'll...
print these?
And pay for 'em?
I guess so.
Cindy is gonna die
when I tell her.
Do I detect...
humor?
Slips out, now and then.
She likes the column.
I told you.
But Ryan, dear,
do yourself a favor,
misspell a word now and then.
Cindy always did.
How did you know?
Sure.
gorgeous, therefore stupid.
Why am I always a stereotype?
Why didn't you tell Page?
I have a feeling about you.
One more word
of advice, though.
This isn't a game.
People might actually
read this drivel.
Some folks have
nowhere else to turn.
So if you're gonna do it,
do it for real.
Don't be a man,
be human.
How much can this really hurt?
Ow. Ow!
"Dear hair lip,
if a man has a problem
with your facial hair,
strap him down, rip off
his 5:00 shadow with hot wax,
and ask him if any woman
is worth that twice a week."
Excuse me.
You forgot your bag.
Oh, thank you.
Thank you so much.
You're welcome.
You flirted with him.
Can I help it if they
still look at me?
- Women look at me, you know.
- Why do you think I'm still with you?
Ack!
Listen to this one.
"Dear Cindy,
I'm in a monogamous
relationship with a great guy.
It's just that sometimes
I get the urge to stray..."
"...maybe the stability
bores me,
or I just crave the excitement
of sex with someone new.
Help, I'm confused."
and then this Cindy woman
writes back,
"Dear confused,
although multiple partners
can be exciting,
you have to think of them
as you would a snowstorm..."
"...you never really know
when they will come,
how long they will last,
or how many inches
you will get..."
"...stick to what
you already have.
It's so much nicer
to watch the storm pass
cuddling with someone
who loves you."
I feel so lonely.
Circulation's up 3%.
Thank you.
Apparently people are...
How do I say this?
They're reading it.
That's always good
with a newspaper, honey.
Excuse me.
- Oh!
- Mr. Turner. Come in.
Someone's excited to see me.
Hell... that always
happens when I wear
a rayon blouse with no bra.
Color me embarrassed.
I am very pleased
with Cindy's performance.
I guess this illness has had
a profound effect on her after all.
- Or... you have.
- Thank you.
Anyway...
I have something for you.
It's the first paycheck that
Cindy actually deserves.
Forgot all about that.
That's great.
You look nice today.
Thank you.
But may I remind you,
you've been around a sick woman?
No, you have a definite glow.
If you're not taking him,
I will.
Iris, what are you
babbling about?
He obviously wants one of us.
He has a girlfriend.
What the hell.
She'll be dead soon, anyway.
Dude, I am so not happy
with the direction
this seems to be going.
Dude, get over it.
All right,
where the hell is she?
Cindy?
She's not here.
Every time I call here,
you tell me she can't talk.
When I call at the office,
they tell me she's working at home.
She's talking to someone,
somewhere,
and it's not me
and it's not here.
What the hell is going on?
All right, you want
the truth, Cathy? Fine.
Cindy went away for awhile,
on personal business.
- Cindy tells me everything.
- Not this.
Her column is still
being printed.
She's emailing it.
You're lying.
And I'm not leaving...
until I get some answers.
Okay. You want the real truth?
Cindy's... pregnant.
What?!
Oh my god!
Her ass is gonna get so fat.
Why didn't she tell me?
Wait... that is something
she would tell me!
But...
It's not my baby.
Oh my god.
It was Gunther, her trainer.
I told her to put an end to it.
Oops.
Oh, Ryan,
you must be devastated...
even more so now.
When you talk to Cindy,
tell her Barry can help
with the stretch marks.
And if you need anything,
don't hesitate to call.
Like you have in the past.
"Dear Cindy,
I've recently been
introduced to your column,
I don't have many people to talk to,
so I thought, well...
here goes.
My son has the aids.
I never approved
of his lifestyle,
and was always honest about it.
Now, I live in shame,
and have been telling people
he has cancer.
I know most of your stuff
is about broken hearts and romance,
but why can't I move past this?
I don't have a lot of time
to find an answer here.
Please...
help me."
"I don't have a lot of time
to find an answer,
please help me."
You can't give one
of your clever answers on this one.
This is serious.
I don't know what to do.
I'm in way over my head.
I'm getting out
while I still can.
All right, Ryan.
Hey, listen,
if you want to quit,
I don't blame you.
When I was starting out,
this doctor asked me to consult
on this burn victim.
I go in the room. This guy's got
third degree burns on 90% of his body.
He was in so much pain
It... it was horrifying.
And I look at the guy,
and I was...
I was scared shitless,
all right?
So I ran out of there.
And then I was embarrassed.
I didn't know what to do.
So I called a friend of mine,
told him what happened.
You know what he said?
He goes, "Hey, you're scared.
How do you think that
burn victim feels?"
Smart friend.
Yes, you were.
Thanks, Barry.
"It is not how your son dies,
but rather, how he lived.
He may not agree with all
your life choices either,
but I'll bet he loves you.
Don't be angry at yourself
for feeling shame,
be angry at the people
who instill shame in you.
Let go of your prejudice,
and grab hold of your son.
You'll have plenty of time
after he's gone for anger."
"Dear Cindy,
I'm losing my hair,
and I'm losing my confidence
with women.
Am I just being paranoid?"
"Trust me.
A lot of women know
your hair loss is caused
by an oversupply
of male hormones.
Remember this thought...
the more hair you lose,
the more head you get."
Hello? Cathy?
Okay, relax.
Take a breath.
- Channel 5... Turn it on! turn it on!
- I will. Thanks.
...causing quite a buzz
in the tri-state area,
is advice columnist,
Cindy Styne,
who has a rather
unorthodox approach,
and unique perspective,
to say the least.
For example, a woman writes in
she's having no luck finding
the perfect caring guy.
So Cindy advises,
"The problem isn't
finding a boyfriend
who is perfect,
gentle and caring.
The problem is,
guys like that already
have boyfriends."
"New York 1" is hoping
to get an exclusive with her.
I may have to get her
exclusively, too.
Get me an address
on Cindy Styne.
Page, we're going
to make payroll.
- You're kidding?
- I'm not kidding.
- So don't take out that second mortgage.
- Okay.
Hey, if you're lucky...
you may even be able
to cash your own paycheck.
- That's fantastic!
- Please don't tell anybody about this, okay?
Otherwise there's a free-for-all
on the office supplies.
- Hi.
- Hello.
Did you see it on TV?
Yes, along with half
a million other women in the city.
And to think,
you were going to cancel the column.
I'm the first to admit
when I'm wrong.
Great. go ahead.
- What?
- Admit it.
The admission was inherent
in what I said.
Still, won't it make you feel better
to actually say it?
No. but if it would
make you fell better,
I was wrong.
Happy?
Let's not point fingers.
Mr. Turner, I was already going
to renew Cindy's contract.
I don't know.
What don't you know?
Circulation is up 20%.
Cindy may have some stipulations
before she re-signs.
What kind of stipulations?
You know Cindy.
I could talk to her.
I do have some influence.
Perhaps we could discuss
her demands over dinner?
- Tonight?
- No, I can't tonight.
I have to review
a performance artist.
What about drinks beforehand?
Fine.
6:30 at the park grant.
I'll see you there.
The sexy turquoise one
with the spaghetti straps, honey.
No, I was looking
for today's galleys.
Right there on your desk.
I see. Thank you.
Not the navy suit?
Hello.
What can I get you?
Cosmopolitan, please.
Before you make any demands,
just remember Cindy's column
was close to extinction
a few weeks ago.
You look incredible.
I'm ready to listen,
and I'm open to compromise,
but please keep in mind
her recent success
was partly fueled
by my patience and leniency.
When was the last time
you were on a date?
Of course, I do intend
to play hardball.
With a man that thought
you were beautiful?
Business is business.
A date that kept you up
all night thinking about it?
This is a business meeting.
And I've given up dating.
Oh, given up?
Sounds like you've
been hurt pretty badly.
That bad, huh?
I was involved with someone.
As it turns out,
I wanted one man
to fulfill my every need,
he wanted every woman
to fulfill his one.
His wife kicked him out, too.
Now, about this contract.
So clearly, you know what you
don't want in a man.
What do you want?
Someone who can concentrate.
- Seriously.
- Thank you.
What every woman wants.
Someone warm.
Someone sensitive.
Someone who'll cry
when I smack him.
Really?
What do you want in a man?
Someone who's not deceitful.
This contract...
Sorry. Right.
Okay...
I think a 5% increase
in salary is fair.
For a transit worker.
50% of the profit increase,
move the column to page four.
I see you came prepared.
- Okay.
- So tell me...
What is it, exactly,
that you want in a woman?
Cindy, for example?
Maybe 50% is a little high.
Clearly even you
have expectations.
Front page billing,
and 10% of the profit increase.
What does she do to deserve
this kind of loyalty?
Cindy changed my life
without even knowing it.
Did she?
Her terms seem fair.
I'll have my attorney
draw up papers.
That's it?
Do your business and leave?
I feel so cheap.
I told you I was reviewing
a performance artist tonight.
I could walk you to a cab.
Or, you know, tag along.
I'm not so sure
you would enjoy this.
It's very progressive.
You don't think
I'd fit in with the elitist,
high-brow, artsy fartsy
downtown scene?
I can be as progressive
as the next guy.
Okay, come on.
What is "projected pastels?"
You'll see.
Okay, maybe not
as progressive as the next guy.
The artist inserts the hose
and fills himself with paint.
You're kidding.
You're not kidding.
Now he'll projectile
release the paint
onto the canvas.
Whatever happened to brushes?
He calls it "Enemart."
It represents the waste
of his life
being released
from the bowels of his being.
Do you find this offensive?
No. what about this
could possibly be offensive?
I'm so sorry.
Just because I got
a little paint in the face
from a man's ass?
But it was a well
respected ass.
You should have
seen your expression.
It was actually kind of cute.
You think so?
I cannot believe you did that.
Hey, dude.
Blow me!
Hello? Could you cash
your paycheck, please,
so I can balance
my books for once?
Then what am I going to put
under my coffee cup, Steven?
Iris, you're killing me.
I just want to let
you know that.
Then suffer in silence, Steven!
Uh-oh.
She doesn't want
to see you right now.
- Did she say that?
- She implied it,
when she said she doesn't
want to see you right now.
Have you seen
the amount of mail for Cindy?
You and I both know
it's because of me.
Now, I want to see Page,
and I won't be told no.
No!
Page.
What's going on?
I no longer
have a problem with Cindy's column,
so you can
deliver it to Iris...
This is about you
kissing me last night.
Me?! You?
I did not.
It sure tasted like you.
You leaned in...
and I lost my balance.
And fell onto my face?
It was an unfortunate accident.
I know.
Don't you just hate it
when two people
accidentally connect?
Page, what is going on?
Well, let's see.
You're in a relationship,
that's infidelity.
- Actually, I came to tell you...
- I'm not finished.
Your significant other
works for me,
that's unethical.
She's become my biggest asset,
that's plain fact.
If you'd cheat on her,
you'd cheat on me,
that's common sense.
And I want you
to leave this office,
that's about it.
No, it's not.
there's something that I have to tell...
- I don't want to hear it!
- Stop interrupting me!
Cindy is not
who you think she is.
I know.
How do you know?
The letters.
You could tell
from the letters?
Yes.
Now they've started writing me.
Listen to this,
"Dear editor, I wrote
Cindy for advice
on what to do about
my husband hitting me.
She put things into perspective
the way none of my family or friends could.
They all told me
to save my marriage.
Cindy told me to save myself.
I got out, thanks to her.
If she has given this gift to me,
I can only imagine how
she's affected others.
God bless you and Cindy."
she is not the person
who I thought she was... at all.
Cindy has become the difference
in people's lives.
And she should know that.
She does.
I won't be bothering you,
anymore, Page.
I'll have Cindy email
her column from now on.
Can I help you?
Lucy Stone, FOX news,
"New York report."
- And you are?
- Wondering what you're doing here.
I just wanted to ask
a few questions
to the woman
that seems to have all the answers.
Cindy doesn't do interviews.
She prefers to keep
her anonymity.
Can I use your phone
to check in with the newsroom?
Sure.
It'll wait.
We only trust secure land lines.
Do you mind if I
use your restroom?
It's broken.
I can give you a cup.
Okay, I'll tell you what,
here is my card,
in case she changes her mind
when she sees it's Lucy Stone.
You'll be the first one
she calls, Lucy Stone.
- And again, you are?
- Gonna close the door now.
No, no, no, tell him I'm busy.
I have no time
to talk to him now.
If worse comes to worst,
I'll call him tomorrow at his office.
Can I help you?
Bye-bye.
Ms. Hensen,
I was hoping we
could help each other.
I believe this is
my desk, Mr. Simpson.
I know this because
I'm on the wrong side of it.
Well, forgive me.
So you know who I am?
You own my competition,
and I wouldn't know who you are?
What I don't know
is what you're doing here.
Well, I...
I have a little
proposition for you.
Judging by
your uninvited intrusion,
I'm sure it's very little.
You seem like a no nonsense woman,
and I admire that.
At least I know I'm
dealing with an equal.
Any woman who aspires
to be equal to men in business,
simply lacks ambition.
Okay.
How's this for ambition?
I want to buy out
Cindy's contract.
Cindy's not for sale.
I happen to know
this newspaper is losing money.
You can't afford
not to sell her.
When I want something,
Ms. Hensen,
I usually get it.
You'll have to get it,
somewhere else.
If you'll excuse me.
Never wrestle
with a pig, Ms. Hensen,
you'll both get dirty,
only the pig likes it!
At least I know what species of animal
I'm dealing with.
Good day, Mr. Simpson.
This is "FOX 5, live."
- Live from lower Manhattan...
- Did I tell you I was an early riser?
So who is this advice columnist
who has the answers,
...but for some reason
chooses anonymity?
New York is asking,
"Who is Cindy?"
I ordered a special meal,
and there is nothing special
about this.
I should be on your list,
Cindy Styne.
The Cindy Styne?
Yeah. Why?
I love your column.
You've read my column?
I even wrote to you.
But you haven't answered it yet.
Really?
Was your letter stupid?
- Pardon?
- You wouldn't believe
some of the ridiculous letters
I used to get.
Idiots out there.
You know, somehow I thought
you'd be different.
No. I'm the same.
This is your captain.
We're starting our descent
into New York shortly.
And we up here in the flight deck
want to thank you
for flying with us.
And we hope you have
a pleasant stay in New York,
or whatever
your final destination.
Witnesses reported to us that
they spotted Cindy Styne dining.
Oh, you have to go?
What a pity.
Okay, so long, I'll talk
to you again.
Oh!
Thank you very much.
The phones are
ringing off the hook.
I've been on the phone so much,
I'm developing a bicep.
Biceps go the other way.
Oh. Matt Lauer
personally called.
- I talked to him.
- This is insane.
And the wire services called
to talk about
national syndication!
- That's great.
- I'm so happy for you.
For me, back to the grind.
- Iris?
- Or not.
Last year, when you
got that horrific flu,
How long were you out?
Including the days I lied...
and went to club med,
about two and a half weeks.
But I got sick there.
I've been ignoring
my intuition.
I'm going to go see Cindy.
Page, is that wise?
Let me rephrase that,
that's not wise.
Is there something
you're not telling me?
Almost daily.
Who is it?
It's Page.
Shit!
I heard that, Ryan.
Open the door!
I'm in the shower.
I need to talk to Cindy.
Now is not a good time.
Open the door!
She's not here.
Where is she?
The media's been hounding us.
She couldn't get any rest
so I sent her to a private hospital.
I looked up the doctor
you said was Cindy's physician.
He's a plastic surgeon.
Right.
I want the truth.
The truth is...
Dr. Sherman
is a plastic surgeon.
And he wasn't
treating Cindy for the flu.
Keep talking.
What happened is...
Cindy's breast implants...
she has them, you know?
They shifted so radically,
that she became...
frontally disfigured,
a one breasted hunchback.
It was like talking
to a Picasso in Chanel.
- Oh my god...
- Yeah, it was terrible.
You must think
I'm a complete idiot.
I don't,
but if you feel I must...
let me tell
you something, Ryan,
I can spot bullshit
from a blimp in a fogstorm.
Now where the hell is she?
Oh god.
The real truth is...
Cindy went to Brazil.
- Ryan!
- No, listen!
Three months ago,
I was a great liar,
with a great job, which I lost.
So Cindy left me.
I couldn't find another job
so I took hers.
You took Ci...
Wait a minute...
You've been illegally
impersonating Cindy?
Perpetuating a hoax
and lying to my face?
It sounds a lot worse
when you say it.
Do you understand
the legal ramifications of this?
Yes, I am a fraud.
There will be
a huge scandal, Ryan!
The papers will crucify me...
No... wait...
I am a paper.
I'll have to crucify myself.
- I wanted to tell you the truth.
- Then why didn't you?
Because I didn't want you
to know I was a fraud.
And I needed a reason
to keep seeing you.
You're the first woman
that's made me
care about something
other than myself.
Oh, please!
Add that to your list
of lies and deception.
Everything you've said
to me has been a lie.
Is there anything, at all,
about you that's true?
Just... the stuff
you printed.
I am so out of here.
I love you.
The hardest part about this
was not being able to tell you.
Or kiss you.
You really think
I would let you kiss me?
After this?!
How clich is that?
What? "Passion
overtakes them"?
Who do you think
you're dealing with here?
I don't know.
I just love you.
Let me tell you something...
Cindy, where do you see
the column going?
- Cindy, why the secrecy?
- Where have you been hiding?
What the hell is going on?
Get my car.
Hurry!
Hurry? You never wanted
me to hurry before.
Before my temperature
goes down.
Stop complaining,
you always wanted a nooner.
Yeah, but what's the rush
to have children?
Cindy's having one, so...
- it got me thinking.
- Cindy's in Brazil.
- Cindy's in Brazil?!
- What? No, I mean...
Cindy's bra is chilled.
Let's make babies.
Okay.
Oooh!
Owww!
- What are you doing?
- It's the yoga.
It familiarizes me with muscles
I never even knew I had.
I... I can't move the...
Oh my god! My...
Exactly.
Now tell me what's going on?
I don't know anything!
I swear!
Ok-aaay.
Talk!
Feel the love!
Okay, okay!
I'll talk! I'll talk!
So?
Have I redeemed myself?
Almost.
Keep trying.
You are an amazing woman.
Apparently, so are you.
Who else knows about this,
besides you and...
clearly... Iris?
My friend, Barry.
But I trust him.
Eventually,
someone's going to find out.
How is anyone
going to find out?
Cindy?
Welcome home.
Ryan!
I have been to hell
without a sunblock.
It was awful!
Brazil has no air conditioning,
mosquitoes the size
of premature babies,
and nobody speaks
a real language.
And then, Ryan,
when I got off the plane,
I was totally
attacked by paparazzi,
like a celebrity.
What is going on?
What the hell is going on?
In a nutshell,
you left, my life collapsed.
I said you were sick,
took over your column.
It took off, you became famous.
The column took off,
and you've been writing it?
- Actually, I've...
- Did you know he was me?
I didn't then.
But I do now.
So... you've been me,
while doing her,
you used to do me,
but now you are me?
Maybe?
Wait a minute, wait a minute.
You're the one that left me.
Ryan, I have an innocent,
little affair in Brazil,
and you not only steal my job,
you sleep with my boss?
Oh my god!
You're alive!
- Ryan's been writing your column!
- I know.
He's telling everyone
that you are on your deathbed.
I know.
- He's also having an affair.
- I know.
No offense, Cin, but you're
bursting my bubble butt, here.
Isn't it higher?
Much.
Ryan...
Ryan, I'm so sorry.
Cathy used her sexual web to make
me spill everything.
- Hey!
- Oh! oh.
Oh, not good.
This must be the friend
you can trust.
Page, Barry.
Barry, Page.
Page, Cathy.
Cathy, Page.
And you all know Cindy.
Mmm, the victim.
I think everybody should leave.
Cindy and I have
some talking to do.
I'm not going anywhere.
I'm mad at you!
And Cindy needs me.
I thought we'd go to Bergdorf's
on the way home.
Call me.
Right. uh, well...
I should be going too.
Yeah, and leave the sheet.
I'll get my stuff out tomorrow.
No! Her, leave.
You...
I forgive. Eventually.
Cindy, I'm in love with page.
Please!
You don't even
like smart women.
I'm not the same person.
You wouldn't even like me.
You'll meet someone else.
You're young, attractive...
vulnerable,
emotionally unavailable...
everything a man looks for
in a woman, just...
not this man.
Mmm, fine then.
Well, now there, see?
I knew that we could
all be understanding,
- and amicable, and...
- I want my job back,
at quadruple my old salary,
and what used to be your office.
And completely irrational.
Cindy, no.
This column is
too important
to too many lives.
Too bad. I'm tired.
So you two have about
a second to decide,
or I go right now
to NBC news, "Live at 6:00."
Tick-tock over here.
You can't have the column back.
Fine.
Watch me on TV.
I'll be live at 6:00.
You'll be dead by 6:30.
That went well.
Excuse me, Ms. Styne.
What?
A moment of your time,
if I may?
I don't talk to
unattractive strangers.
Is that your rolls?
Yes, I'm Donald Simpson.
And I own "The New York
Chronicle" as well as 32 other papers.
And I'd like your column
"Cindy-cated" across the country.
You should know,
I'm not the one...
I'm offering
six figures a year.
- But you should know...
- Plus an expense account.
- Keep talking.
- How about a company car?
Like a Mercedes SL-anything?
All you have to do
is sign some papers.
- She's bluffing.
- She's not bluffing.
You're right,
she's not bluffing.
Go after her.
She's not bluffing.
- Is this for real?
- Absolutely.
Cindy!
What's wrong with us?
I don't know.
We should be upset.
Things couldn't be worse.
Then why am I so happy?
Well, because you
finally got me into bed?
Well, there's that.
If all this happened
so the two of us
could be together,
then it was worth it.
We may be screwed,
but we're screwed together.
Look on the bright side,
tomorrow morning
when we wake up,
we get the unfortunate pleasure
of watching Simpson
announce his victory on TV.
And if I know Cindy,
she'll be right there with him,
gloating.
I don't even care.
How about you?
Cindy...
I need your help.
Of course you do.
I can inject some of the fat
I took from Cathy's ass
into it... it'll give you
at least an extra two inches.
- Barry, wake up!
- What? what?
I need 200 grand,
and I need it now.
Mmm-mmm-mmm.
- No.
- No?
No.
Ryan...
you're a bad stockbroker.
See, you lose people's money.
I'm not a stockbroker anymore.
Exactly, I'm not giving
my money to a...
female columnist.
- I'm not a female.
- You could be.
Barry, you gotta help me.
- No, I can't... no.
- Barry, I got nowhere else to go!
- It's too much!
- I got nowhere else to go.
Besides, Ryan,
all my money's tied up.
What about Cathy's money?
Okay.
- Really?
- What are friends for?
Looks good for the last issue.
Well, well.
You usually sneak out of bed
and leave a woman
in the middle of the night?
You called?
I'm sorry. But last night
I came up with
an idea that could
save your paper.
- How?
- Beating Simpson at his own game.
If I can get 200 grand,
I can turn it into millions.
I borrowed 50.
How much do you have?
She has nothing.
Less than nothing.
If you count interest.
Damn it. where am I going
to get my hands on 150 grand?
Here's my checkbook.
Iris, no.
I don't want your money.
You have 150 grand?
- In one of my accounts.
- She's loaded.
I'm a great housekeeper.
Three divorces...
I kept every house.
- She just works here for fun.
- Or until I find my...
next husband.
Iris, I'll pay you back.
Oh, I don't want it back.
I just want a piece.
Iris!
I want part ownership
of whatever he has planned,
or I'll cash all my paychecks,
and break you.
I couldn't think
of a better partner.
Oh, no!
It's painfully clear
that you've been using me
- to get to her.
- And you mapped out a very direct route.
But... I have, it seems,
found consolation
in the arms of another man.
A younger man!
Whoever he is,
he's a lucky man, too.
You bet your ass!
Andy, how are you?
Good to see you.
Willy, how are you doing?
- Hey, Doris.
- Hey, Ryan.
Hello.
Excuse me.
Can I help you?
I don't think so,
but thank you.
Well, well.
What are you doing here,
Turner?
I thought you'd be
leavin' off your famous girlfriend.
Remember when I said your wife
was moderately attractive?
Yeah.
I lied.
I didn't know
how lucky you are.
You're not looking for a job?
Tables are about to turn, Carl.
Ryan! What are you doing here?
- You're looking at your new client.
- What?
I want to buy 50,000 shares
of Simpson publishing.
Now.
I told you, no investments.
We're ruined.
Ruined.
Bye-bye,
designer clothes.
Now, I'll have to shop
on Canal street.
Bye-bye to our vacation.
You promised me
you would take me to Egypt
to see that giant sphincter.
What about our mortgage, huh?
Bye-bye,
doorman, co-op.
We'll end up living
in a refrigerator carton,
wearing Kleenex boxes
for bedroom slippers,
and snatching pigeons
for a little protein,
praying for rain
so we can shower.
And if you think
I'm selling my jewelry,
you've got
another thing coming.
And let me tell
you something else,
"Mr. best friend"!
I hope you have the numbers
of some very good hookers,
because my legs are shut.
Do you hear me?!
Welded.
Yeah...
and an egg roll.
Yeah, "welded."
I'll bring you to the mike,
and you'll say how happy
you are to be part of
the Simpson publishing empire,
- I'll take over from there.
- Yeah, whatever!
- How do I look?
- Like gold.
Oh.
Donny... oh!
It's beautiful.
A popular columnist
may be defecting
to another paper.
Who? when?
About an hour is all
I can legally say,
but you can do the rest
since you are...
Lucy Stone.
Thank you, Jim.
And here in New York,
reliable sources tell me that
everyone's favorite advice
columnist may be a free agent.
Could that be what today's
press conference is about?
- Over here.
- That's the car, boys.
Stand back.
Stand back.
Mr. Simpson.
Mr. Simpson, can you
confirm the rumors?
Please, sir?
Ladies and gentlemen,
Cindy Styne.
Will you be leaving
"The journal"?
- No comment now.
- No comment.
Cindy, where have you been?
No comment on that, either.
Tell us about the dress.
The dress?
I had it made.
Rumors that popular
columnist Cindy Styne
might be defecting
to the "New York Chronicle"
has sent Simpson's stocks
up eight points.
Now what?
Let's go watch a victory.
So, we've successfully
concluded
an exclusive
five year contract.
And after lengthy negotiations,
I'm very pleased to announce
the acquisition
of "Ask Cindy."
Which will debut next week
in National syndication.
Amy, get ready.
Ryan, it's going up so fast,
the ticker can't keep up!
So without further ado,
let me introduce
our new Chronicle girl,
Ms. Cindy Styne.
Cindy.
Amy?
- How much is it up?
- 30 points!
Hah!
We just made a million five.
Thank... ooh.
- Thank you, Donny.
- Sell.
Sell.
- You're out.
- Good.
Nice move.
I'm excited to be part
of the Simpson
publishing family.
- Thank you, Cin...
- And...
Excuse me.
And...
things are gonna be
different from now on.
Take it all, and sell it short.
Are you sure?
- What are you doing?
- Trust me.
I used to be
pretty good at this.
I'm betting that Simpson
is about to go down.
...'Cause my life has
been a living hell.
See, it wasn't me
writing my column.
I was in Brazil.
- Ladies and gentlemen.
- Don't bother.
It was an impostor,
my ex-boyfriend
forging my advice.
But I am back now,
so no more of that
pseudo-sensitive crap.
- From now on...
- Thank you, Cindy!
Thank you very much.
Ms. Styne's humor
is one of the reasons
the Simpson publishing
company is fortunate to have her.
- Let's gloat.
- Let's.
This conference is over.
Hey! We got
a new breaking story.
Mr. Simpson?
Congratulations.
She's all yours.
Donald.
When you're screwed,
you're screwed.
Come on!
Are you hungry?
I could eat.
We made how much?
Well, you made...
It was your money.
Oh! Wha...
I have no idea.
I'm sorry,
but he's in a meeting.
Don't start with me.
Donny!
I need some help!
Whoa!
- Honey.
- Yeah.
Is my tummy gonna look
all right after this?
Like your new ass...
but flat...
...and no crack.
"Dear Ryan,
I want to propose to
the only woman I ever loved,
But I'd like to do it
in a surprising way.
Any advice?
Signed...
...me."
Hi.
- Are you ready to go yet?
- Yeah.
As soon as you approve this.
Okay.
Really?!
Yes!
Wait! My purse!
Don't do... this?
Yes!
Don't do that some more.
Tell me.
Or I won't do this.
Okay.
All I know is he's in D.C.
Buying some company.
Don't stop!
No. I'm stopping.
Ryan, if I wanted to talk business
I'd have sex with my husband.
Which company?
Hi, Donald and Veronica
can't come...
Veronica? It's me.
- My god, it's Donald!
- Pick it up.
Call me when you get back.
- Hi, sweetie.
- Hey, baby.
I was about to hang up.
Whatcha doing?
Uh...
having my nails done.
I wanted to tell you my plane's landing
in an hour. I'm gonna play a quick 18,
- then we'll go to dinner, okay?
- Okay.
Listen, sweetie, I gotta run.
My manicurist is
givin' me dirty looks.
- I'll see you tonight.
- All right, talk to you then.
I gotta run, too.
Why?! We have all afternoon.
Donald's playing golf.
I know.
I'm playing with him.
What?!
Let's head for long island.
Beautiful shot!
200 yards.
Right at the flag.
Keep your compliments coming,
and your balls in the rough.
I'll do my worst, sir.
Where'd you learn
to swing like that?
Business school.
How'd things go
in D.C.?
After our little meeting,
and the half a million
additional shares I purchased,
we have full cooperation
from the Jasco
Pharmaceuticals Board.
Sir, that much stock'll put you
over the limit.
Not if you don't buy it
in your own name.
Sounds like Simpson Publishing's
involved in a merger.
Watch CNBC tomorrow morning.
Cindy, what do you say
we get drinks tonight?
Never.
Great, rain check it is, then.
Ryan Turner's on line one.
Hey, gorgeous.
Hey, honey.
What are you doing?
You... in about eight hours.
Oh, Ryan,
you are so romantic.
- I know.
- Are we still on for dinner?
Yes, we are.
I'll meet you there at 8:00.
And wait till you see what
I have planned for dessert.
Oooh, I'll bring the cherry.
- I wish.
- Bye.
I understand the possibility
of breaking a nail
is looming over every word,
but your deadline is...
now.
Okay! Jeez!
Why does everybody
want something from me?
You write an advice column?
I have problems too, you know.
Yes, I know.
I mean, listen to this letter,
"Dear Cindy, I want
to go back to school,
but my husband is against it.
What should I do?"
I mean, this woman
is such a mess.
So what did you tell her?
"Why do you need school?
You have a husband.
If you want to feel
better about yourself, do charity work.
Go build hairdo's
for the homeless,
better yet,
go get your own hair done."
This woman pours
her heart out to you,
and you give her beauty tips?
What's wrong here?
I haven't given you any.
Cindy, this is
a quality newspaper.
Page, we're not friends,
so I can be honest with you.
My grandmother's legs
had better circulation
than this "quality" newspaper.
no one even buys it.
Then I would be happy
to buy out your contract.
I wish!
But we both know you're flat...
broke.
So you'll just have
to let me do what I do.
With the style, grace,
and femininity
I do it with.
I love it when you sing, honey,
it really turns me on.
Really? ha ha.
where do you want to go shopping?
Whoa!
We're walking here!
Huh?
She's just like my therapist.
Turning everything around
making it seem like
- I'm the one with the problem.
- Then quit.
You said nobody reads
your column anyways.
I can't just quit.
It's not like I have a husband
to take care of me.
So what's with the champagne?
I got information
from Donald Simpson
about a merger.
It'll make my clients...
and me... a fortune.
If Simpson told you,
isn't that illegal?
No. Donald would never
risk an S.E.C. violation.
I overheard him
and his lawyers.
This is the opportunity
of a lifetime.
I'm even margining
my own portfolio.
- It's buying on credit.
- They don't even give you a card.
- You checked this out?
- Of course.
Simpson himself bought stock...
in his wife's maiden name.
- Which stock?
- Jasco Pharmaceuticals.
They're developing
some anti-aging drug.
When it hits the shelves,
the stock could jump 1000%.
You could still get in.
Nnnn...
Nnn-no! Forget it.
We'll handle anti-aging
the old fashioned way.
Surgery! Right, honey?
Yeah. Whatever.
A toast!
Come on.
To Kathy's new ass,
Barry's successful practice,
and Ryan,
becoming a rich partner,
so we can enjoy the life
we deserve and more.
And more.
And more! and more!
I gotta go.
Where are you going?
Come back here.
Ryan, I love you.
I know. But I've got to go to work.
It's 3:00 a.m.
I've got to call Tokyo
before they close.
Feel free to sleep in.
Sleep in?
How about I move in?
I'm serious. We'd get to see
so much more of each other.
I'm ready to have
a doorman in my life.
I like the way things are.
What would you say if I told you
I'd leave you if you didn't let me?
I'd say you were lying.
Oh really?
See?
Ryan, you know me so well.
We belong together.
We are together.
Walt?
Good morning,
Mr. Turner.
You're a doorman, Walt.
How good could it possibly be?
Thank you, sir.
Yo, bud.
You got a dollar?
Yeah, millions of them.
Me, too.
Hi, Ryan Turner-san.
Good to hear from you again.
Asahi, Hakashiro-san.
I have got a very lucrative investment
you need to jump on
immediately.
You gonna give bowie
that tidbit as well?
Michael, you know you're
my favorite client.
Bowie's only my favorite client
when I'm on the phone with him.
Well, he does sell more records than me.
doesn't he, Ryan?
Therefore, I want to have
one more share than him. Okay, man?
- Excellent.
- Thank you, Ryan.
Jasco will be up
at least 30 points before noon.
How in the hell
could you know that?
I can't tell you how I know...
Mrs. Ellis is on line two.
Hello, Marlene.
I want Jasco...
good choice.
Excellent choice.
- Don't thank me now.
- But I want to.
If you're on this
side of the world, let's get together.
- It's a date.
- All righty.
Are you in or out?
All right, put me down
for 10,000 shares, market price.
You folks at beacon trade
never let me down before.
Done.
Rumors of a merger
fueled an early morning explosion
of Jasco Pharmaceutical Stock,
but now trading has been halted
because a news conference
has been called.
Yes... yes!
No, I don't know why
he would have done that.
I'm going to look into it.
I'm on top of that, okay?
Thank you for calling.
Morning, sir.
Coffee?
About five hours ago.
File these buy orders,
and get my phone sheet, please.
Ted wants to see you.
You have the audacity
to call Amir,
my client,
at 5:00 a.m.?
Carl, while you were
sleeping at 5:00 a.m.
In your moderately
attractive suburban home,
with your moderately
attractive suburban wife,
assuring that my future
would look nothing like yours.
And by the way,
it was afternoon in Kuwait.
Very impressive numbers
this month, Ryan.
Thank you, sir. Wait till you see
the deal I'm working on now.
You keep this up and I can
see a partnership.
I guess we have
the same vision.
Excuse me.
Ryan, Donald Simpson's
holding a press conference.
Yes.
Watch this, sir.
This day is going
to change my life.
Jasco was riding
a tide of speculation,
but the press conference
that just wrapped up
turned out to be less
than positive.
So in the final analysis
we concluded that the merger
was not to our fiscal
advantage.
Simpson publishing
has voted to focus
on our core interest, which is
the newspaper business.
What? What?
With trading halted,
Jasco pharmaceuticals
announced stunning news
that it has defaulted
on interest payments
on its debt,
and will file for bankruptcy.
It's stock is expected to
plummet when trading resumes.
You were right, Turner.
Jasco stocks
were gonna explode.
Kaboom!
Sir... sir, you're not
allowed in there.
You're not allowed in there.
What the hell's going on?
Turner, what are you doing?
Yesterday,
you said you were acquiring Jasco.
Oh, Ryan, Ryan.
Oh my god.
You didn't use that
inside information, did you?
Yes, I did.
- Did you lose a lot?
- A fucking fortune.
Client's money.
My own.
Ohhh!
Tsk, tsk, tsk.
Ryan...
Ryan.
You screwed my wife.
I screwed you back.
You would undermine
your own merger,
just for retribution?
Are you insane?
There's no stronger
motivation than money, or revenge.
I already have money.
Have a good day.
We just lost half
of our top clients, Ryan.
Why the hell did you do this?
I was set up.
It was false information.
The S.E.C. called.
You think they give a shit
about the fact that you were set up?
- This was all legal.
- What about due diligence?
We just lost $52 million
of our clients' money.
For what? A tip?
My source was Donald Simpson himself.
Oh, great. Well, I guess
you can ask him for a job.
No, wait, wait, wait...
It's the fucking S.E.C.!
If we keep you on it's going to look like
we condone insider trading.
I'm sorry.
Don't...
Don't do this, please.
I margined my own account.
Aww.
Well.
I guess you made
two stupid mistakes then.
I can't believe
this is happening to me.
Okay, okay. this changes
my plans completely.
But I'm an adapter.
I can make myself believe
that this is worse for you
than it is for me.
I just have to keep
reminding myself
that you are Ryan Turner.
Oh!
And honey,
if anyone can bounce back
from this you can.
Right?
- Sorry to keep you waiting.
- That's all right.
- Walk with me.
- Sure.
I guess you heard,
I left beacon trading.
Everybody's heard.
I have admired your firm
for quite awhile.
I figured now would be
a great time to join forces.
Unfortunately,
we're downsizing.
Jim, six months ago
you were begging me,
- now I'm...
- Poison.
I'm sorry, Ryan.
It's... I just...
I can't help you.
Nancy, hi.
Ryan.
I've been calling you for days.
Yeah, uh, I've been very busy.
It's been totally...
I got your messages.
There's gotta be
something you can do.
Look, Ryan,
I made some calls.
Looks like they might be
investigating you.
Ryan Edward Turner,
while this commission finds
insufficient evidence
for indictment,
your conduct leaves us
no alternative but to revoke
your broker's license.
This one was declined, too.
Try this one.
I'm gonna have to
keep this one.
But we accept food stamps.
You're jeopardizing
your economic future, Ryan.
Patrick, I don't really give a shit
about my future.
I'm gonna cash in
my retirement fund.
You're gonna pay
a hell of a penalty.
Just do it!
This is for the 13,500
we agreed on.
If you could just sign.
Here.
Great.
Good. We'll have
everything out by 5:00.
Mr. Turner,
I am so sorry
that you've been evicted from 989.
Thanks, Paul.
When I said I wanted
us to live together,
I meant at your place.
Ryan, you haven't moved
in a week.
Let's go out.
We're living together.
We're well past
the going out stage.
Fine! I'm going out
with Cathy then.
What's going on?
I'll put this delicately.
You're a loser
and I'm leaving you.
Things will get better.
I'm tired of watching
other people
enjoy the life I was
supposed to have.
My life is flying by.
Do you see a rock on my finger?
I get it.
Who is he?
He?
Oh, you think this
is about someone else?
Honey, this isn't
about someone else.
This is about you.
His name is Francisco,
and he owns a diamond mine
in Brazil.
When did you meet this guy?
Mm...
Tuesday, but he loves me.
So you're just giving up on us?
If god wanted me to marry poor
he would have made me homely.
What about your job?
What about your column?
Oh, I'm done
with everything here.
I'm jetting off
with Fran-chesco.
- Francisco.
- Yeah, him.
By the way, the rent's due.
That's a Zipkin, isn't it?
I don't know what
you're talking about.
Yeah?
Dr. Lou Zipkin,
Madison avenue.
Who told you?
Call me.
I can fix it.
Ass!
I can fix that, too!
Ryan, sorry I'm late.
I had to do a lipo-injection
on an anorexic woman.
Now she wants to be
the fat lady at the circus.
Cindy left me.
No?!
I didn't see that coming.
- Are you insulting my ex?
- Of course not.
- She's a bitch.
- Is all I was saying.
She left me
for some Brazilian guy.
And after all that work
I did on her.
We can build you a new one.
It's not just her.
My whole life is a mess.
I could kill myself,
but I'd probably go to hell,
and that would be redundant.
You'd be among friends.
Yeah, friends.
Nobody likes me, Barry.
Come on.
"nobody" is overstating it.
Was I that big an asshole?
I wouldn't say big.
Huge?
Gigantic.
Paul Bunyan comes to mind.
All right, I get it.
Let me have a beer.
Get him a beer.
Yeah?
Is Cindy there?
- Who's this?
- Who's this?!
You're calling me.
This is Page Hensen,
her publisher
from the "Journal."
who's this?
This is Ryan Turner,
her boyfriend,
- from Syracuse.
- Well...
she left a confusing message,
something about moving
to Brazil.
Can you tell me whether
she's coming to work,
or whether I can take
her off payroll?
Payroll?
Payroll. I don't have to pay her
if she doesn't work.
That's the way we do
things in this country.
It's progressive,
don't you think?
Apparently you misunderstood
Cindy's message.
What she was trying to say
was she's not moving to Brazil.
In fact, she's hardly
moving at all.
She's sick...
...Brazilian flu.
Brazilian flu?
Put her on the phone.
I can't.
She has laryngitis.
Her doctor ordered
total voice rest.
Her doctor?
What's his name?
Ah...
Dr. Barry Sherman.
Perhaps she should
take an extended leave.
No, Cindy wants to do
the column from bed.
She shouldn't be
without an income
when she's this sick,
should she?
Fine. I guess I have no choice.
I'll send her letters over.
No!
She's contagious.
I'll come pick them up.
She's contagious,
and he's coming here?
Oh boy!
Chelsea journal.
Sure, hang on one second.
I'm looking for Page Hensen.
And I'm looking for a man
who appreciates the sight
of a 70-year-old woman
in a bubble bath.
I see.
Is she available?
Business or pleasure?
Business.
Serious or monkey?
None of your.
Just tell her
Ryan Turner is here,
Cindy's friend.
The boyfriend's here.
Hi, I'm Page Hensen.
Hi, Ryan Turner.
Coffee?
- Sure.
- It's over there.
Let me...
say up front
that I am not
at all comfortable
with Cindy working from home.
I like to do things
a certain way around here.
What way is that?
Around here.
Where I can control them.
Are you telling me
you've ever controlled Cindy?
Well...
you're not wrong.
Which makes me right.
Other than brilliant,
it's my favorite thing to be.
That was a joke.
If you want levity,
Mr. Turner.
I can squeeze you in around 4:00 p.m.
a week from Thursday...
Cindy knows her deadline.
Have a nice day.
Cindy's deadline
is 3:00 p.m.
Thank you.
But I'm open-ended.
This the mail room?
Uh, duh!
I'm here to pick up all the letters from
the "Dear, Cindy" column.
All the letters?
That's what I said.
Okay.
I'll get you all the letters.
All the letters.
"Dear Cindy,
I have a small moustache,
but waxing is painful
and I can't afford
laser removal.
Do men really mind this?
Signed, hair lip."
"Dear Adolf, the only handlebar
a man wants to hold
is on a Harley.
If a guy wants to munch hair
he knows where to find it."
Damn!
That's good advice.
"Dear Cindy,
I'm planning my wedding,
but when I try to get
opinions about color schemes,
my fianc doesn't seem to care.
Does that mean that he really
doesn't want to get married?
Signed,
the wedding Zinger."
"Dear Zinger,
while you're looking
at wedding color schemes..."
"...he's out looking at all the ass
he's never gonna touch again.
Just make
the color scheme black,
'cause it's the darkest
day of his life."
these sound like
these were written
by some shallow,
callous anti-feminist.
May be you should
read them again?
Apparently, Cindy's ailment
hasn't heightened
her sensitivity.
Perhaps you're incapable
of seeing the insight
and profundity of her writing?
Are you implying I don't
know how to do my job?
How successful is
your little paper, anyway?
- You're right.
- Usually.
Perhaps we would be more
successful without this column.
Cancelled.
Wait a minute.
You can't do that.
Can! Have!
See the name plate?
- Let me tell you something...
- Whatever it is, Mr. Turner.
I suggest you save it for
a larger, more attentive crowd.
Fine. fine!
You don't deserve my...
girlfriend's brilliant mind.
Do you believe him?!
He is...
he has some...
ass!
Nerve!
Wait a sec.
Let me get this straight
while I'm sober.
- You took over Cindy's...
- Shh!
You took over...
column?
You can't tell a soul.
Or Cathy!
And the newspaper bought it?
Well, not exactly.
This so called publisher
called me... Cindy...
shallow, callous, insensitive,
then she fired
Cindy... me... us.
Oh, so you're still
out of work?
Oh no. I'm not finished.
I found Cindy's contract,
and she's not
taking this lying down...
sick as she is.
Well...
that Cindy's got balls.
She does now.
Couldn't keep away, could you?
Must be that bad girl vibe
I give off...
pheromones and poligrip.
Enticing,
but I'm here
to see Ms. Hensen.
She told me to send you away
if you ever showed up again.
So, if you want to get to her,
you have to go through me,
and I can map out
a very direct route.
How about a compromise?
I'll pinch your butt as we walk.
That's sexual harassment!
- That's foreplay.
- Ah.
All right.
No, wait.
Stop.
No, you can't.
I tried to stop him.
Iris, out.
Turner, follow.
I came to give you
one more chance.
Oh! This sounds good.
Cindy is devastated
that you would take advantage
of her disability as a pretense
to breach her contract.
You're not serious?
Please leave.
I'm sorry.
That didn't come out right.
Leave!
I recommend you reconsider
before her damages increase.
"Damages"?
Cindy's pain and suffering.
Mr. Turner,
you're on my turf,
and I know publishing.
Cindy wrote
about munching hair,
and getting ass.
She's the one
in breach, not me.
If you want to
take me on legally,
I'm ready for a fight.
Is Cindy?
No.
Iris, help.
Oh, what's this piece of paper
falling to the floor
with a home address on it?
Thank you.
She likes roses.
I like tulips.
Shit.
Go away, Mr. Turner.
I can't do that.
It's easy. Just pretend
you're walking in,
except go the other way.
Just give me two minutes.
I'm entertaining.
No, you're not.
I'll...
call the police.
No, you won't.
This is my home,
Mr. Turner.
I don't mix business
and pleasure.
I don't think you mix
pleasure and pleasure.
You are way out of line.
Just give me two minutes, and I promise
I'll never bother you again.
I came to...
apologize.
Two minutes.
And the tock is clicking.
Entertaining, huh?
Nice place...
I'm sure you came with a point.
I can't go back to Cindy and tell her
she lost her column.
I see. where will
you be going then?
Cindy is very sick.
Please, have a little empathy.
Empathy?
Every cent I could beg
and borrow went into my paper.
Cindy's column has never
really fit in with my vision.
She lacks warmth, insight,
and most important, sensitivity.
People change.
People's lives change.
People, I'm not so sure about.
Things happen that
change people.
Give her one more chance.
As a favor to me?
And what do I owe you?
When was the last time
you put on lipstick at this hour?
I'm not wearing lipstick.
Yes, you are.
I might be going out later.
No, you're not.
If I put my makeup on at night,
it saves me 20 minutes
in the morning.
Time's up.
Okay.
Hey.
One more chance.
See, you do have a soft spot.
And right now,
I'm starting to think
someone dropped me on it.
- "Dear Cindy... "
- Now remember, you've got
to reach down,
way past that cynicism.
"Dear Cindy..."
past those hardened layers
of egomaniacal self-absorption.
"Dear Cindy..."
you're a girl...
- I get it. Thanks.
- I'm saying be sensitive.
"Dear Cindy,
my ex and I broke up,
but I still can't stop
thinking about him.
Is four months too much time
to grieve my lost love?
Signed, not
a mourning person."
oh good, a neurotic one.
Now you, being
a sensitive woman, say...
"Four days is too much time.
The best way to get over a man,
is to get under a new one."
No, you can't say that.
I just did.
- It's not sensitive.
- Maybe it is to a woman.
No, say "He probably left you
'cause your ass got too big."
Say that, then tell her I can fix it.
put in my name and office number.
- This isn't about you.
- Well, it could be.
And I'll give you a finder's fee.
Barry, no.
Fine. read the next one.
"Dear Cindy, I caught
my husband cheating..."
probably due
to a falling backside...
gravity hits,
he loses interest.
It's sad, really.
Tell her I can fix it.
Put in my name
and office number.
Barry, no.
You're losing a lot of money
you could use.
This goes on.
"I caught my husband cheating,
but that's not the worst of it.
The woman is not half
as attractive as me.
Am I wrong for feeling
twice as hurt?"
What would a woman say?
Oh.
Oh god, not Cathy?
Ohm-mmm.
Ohm.
Ohmm...gonna get that.
Hello?
Hi, honey. Listen, I just need to
ask you a hypothetical question.
- Not now, I'm practicing yoga.
- No, it'll just take a second.
Say a man is cheating
with a woman
that's not half
as attractive as his wife,
should the wife be upset
that the other woman is ugly?
All right, you son-of-a-bitch,
who the hell is she?
What? No, no...
You couldn't be man enough
to tell me in person?
- Honey, honey...
- I'm sorry, proceed.
Wait, it's that bitch receptionist
with the hairy cleavage!
- Rhonda?
- I knew it! You cheatin' bastard.
I'll be off in a sec.
I'm calling a lawyer!
Cathy, honey, relax,
- I'm not cheating.
- What?
I swear, I would never.
Oh. Well...
then I say he deserves
to get stuck with the ugly one.
I gotta go, honey.
Love ya, bye.
What?
Somebody want to use the phone?
That's a good point.
What did she say?
Hmm?
Oh, that...
if the husband's cheating,
he deserves to end up
with the ugly one.
She may be onto something.
"They say dogs
are a man's best friend.
Your man found a real barker.
But remember,
when you lie down with dogs..."
"...you wake up with fleas.
But when you lie down
with ugly dogs,
you wake up alone, because
even the fleas don't want you."
I have to admit
they're... better.
Better?
Then that's good, right?
I don't know
what you said to her,
I told her she's not the only one
who's suffering.
Don't get me wrong,
I still think she has a long way to go.
But you'll...
print these?
And pay for 'em?
I guess so.
Cindy is gonna die
when I tell her.
Do I detect...
humor?
Slips out, now and then.
She likes the column.
I told you.
But Ryan, dear,
do yourself a favor,
misspell a word now and then.
Cindy always did.
How did you know?
Sure.
gorgeous, therefore stupid.
Why am I always a stereotype?
Why didn't you tell Page?
I have a feeling about you.
One more word
of advice, though.
This isn't a game.
People might actually
read this drivel.
Some folks have
nowhere else to turn.
So if you're gonna do it,
do it for real.
Don't be a man,
be human.
How much can this really hurt?
Ow. Ow!
"Dear hair lip,
if a man has a problem
with your facial hair,
strap him down, rip off
his 5:00 shadow with hot wax,
and ask him if any woman
is worth that twice a week."
Excuse me.
You forgot your bag.
Oh, thank you.
Thank you so much.
You're welcome.
You flirted with him.
Can I help it if they
still look at me?
- Women look at me, you know.
- Why do you think I'm still with you?
Ack!
Listen to this one.
"Dear Cindy,
I'm in a monogamous
relationship with a great guy.
It's just that sometimes
I get the urge to stray..."
"...maybe the stability
bores me,
or I just crave the excitement
of sex with someone new.
Help, I'm confused."
and then this Cindy woman
writes back,
"Dear confused,
although multiple partners
can be exciting,
you have to think of them
as you would a snowstorm..."
"...you never really know
when they will come,
how long they will last,
or how many inches
you will get..."
"...stick to what
you already have.
It's so much nicer
to watch the storm pass
cuddling with someone
who loves you."
I feel so lonely.
Circulation's up 3%.
Thank you.
Apparently people are...
How do I say this?
They're reading it.
That's always good
with a newspaper, honey.
Excuse me.
- Oh!
- Mr. Turner. Come in.
Someone's excited to see me.
Hell... that always
happens when I wear
a rayon blouse with no bra.
Color me embarrassed.
I am very pleased
with Cindy's performance.
I guess this illness has had
a profound effect on her after all.
- Or... you have.
- Thank you.
Anyway...
I have something for you.
It's the first paycheck that
Cindy actually deserves.
Forgot all about that.
That's great.
You look nice today.
Thank you.
But may I remind you,
you've been around a sick woman?
No, you have a definite glow.
If you're not taking him,
I will.
Iris, what are you
babbling about?
He obviously wants one of us.
He has a girlfriend.
What the hell.
She'll be dead soon, anyway.
Dude, I am so not happy
with the direction
this seems to be going.
Dude, get over it.
All right,
where the hell is she?
Cindy?
She's not here.
Every time I call here,
you tell me she can't talk.
When I call at the office,
they tell me she's working at home.
She's talking to someone,
somewhere,
and it's not me
and it's not here.
What the hell is going on?
All right, you want
the truth, Cathy? Fine.
Cindy went away for awhile,
on personal business.
- Cindy tells me everything.
- Not this.
Her column is still
being printed.
She's emailing it.
You're lying.
And I'm not leaving...
until I get some answers.
Okay. You want the real truth?
Cindy's... pregnant.
What?!
Oh my god!
Her ass is gonna get so fat.
Why didn't she tell me?
Wait... that is something
she would tell me!
But...
It's not my baby.
Oh my god.
It was Gunther, her trainer.
I told her to put an end to it.
Oops.
Oh, Ryan,
you must be devastated...
even more so now.
When you talk to Cindy,
tell her Barry can help
with the stretch marks.
And if you need anything,
don't hesitate to call.
Like you have in the past.
"Dear Cindy,
I've recently been
introduced to your column,
I don't have many people to talk to,
so I thought, well...
here goes.
My son has the aids.
I never approved
of his lifestyle,
and was always honest about it.
Now, I live in shame,
and have been telling people
he has cancer.
I know most of your stuff
is about broken hearts and romance,
but why can't I move past this?
I don't have a lot of time
to find an answer here.
Please...
help me."
"I don't have a lot of time
to find an answer,
please help me."
You can't give one
of your clever answers on this one.
This is serious.
I don't know what to do.
I'm in way over my head.
I'm getting out
while I still can.
All right, Ryan.
Hey, listen,
if you want to quit,
I don't blame you.
When I was starting out,
this doctor asked me to consult
on this burn victim.
I go in the room. This guy's got
third degree burns on 90% of his body.
He was in so much pain
It... it was horrifying.
And I look at the guy,
and I was...
I was scared shitless,
all right?
So I ran out of there.
And then I was embarrassed.
I didn't know what to do.
So I called a friend of mine,
told him what happened.
You know what he said?
He goes, "Hey, you're scared.
How do you think that
burn victim feels?"
Smart friend.
Yes, you were.
Thanks, Barry.
"It is not how your son dies,
but rather, how he lived.
He may not agree with all
your life choices either,
but I'll bet he loves you.
Don't be angry at yourself
for feeling shame,
be angry at the people
who instill shame in you.
Let go of your prejudice,
and grab hold of your son.
You'll have plenty of time
after he's gone for anger."
"Dear Cindy,
I'm losing my hair,
and I'm losing my confidence
with women.
Am I just being paranoid?"
"Trust me.
A lot of women know
your hair loss is caused
by an oversupply
of male hormones.
Remember this thought...
the more hair you lose,
the more head you get."
Hello? Cathy?
Okay, relax.
Take a breath.
- Channel 5... Turn it on! turn it on!
- I will. Thanks.
...causing quite a buzz
in the tri-state area,
is advice columnist,
Cindy Styne,
who has a rather
unorthodox approach,
and unique perspective,
to say the least.
For example, a woman writes in
she's having no luck finding
the perfect caring guy.
So Cindy advises,
"The problem isn't
finding a boyfriend
who is perfect,
gentle and caring.
The problem is,
guys like that already
have boyfriends."
"New York 1" is hoping
to get an exclusive with her.
I may have to get her
exclusively, too.
Get me an address
on Cindy Styne.
Page, we're going
to make payroll.
- You're kidding?
- I'm not kidding.
- So don't take out that second mortgage.
- Okay.
Hey, if you're lucky...
you may even be able
to cash your own paycheck.
- That's fantastic!
- Please don't tell anybody about this, okay?
Otherwise there's a free-for-all
on the office supplies.
- Hi.
- Hello.
Did you see it on TV?
Yes, along with half
a million other women in the city.
And to think,
you were going to cancel the column.
I'm the first to admit
when I'm wrong.
Great. go ahead.
- What?
- Admit it.
The admission was inherent
in what I said.
Still, won't it make you feel better
to actually say it?
No. but if it would
make you fell better,
I was wrong.
Happy?
Let's not point fingers.
Mr. Turner, I was already going
to renew Cindy's contract.
I don't know.
What don't you know?
Circulation is up 20%.
Cindy may have some stipulations
before she re-signs.
What kind of stipulations?
You know Cindy.
I could talk to her.
I do have some influence.
Perhaps we could discuss
her demands over dinner?
- Tonight?
- No, I can't tonight.
I have to review
a performance artist.
What about drinks beforehand?
Fine.
6:30 at the park grant.
I'll see you there.
The sexy turquoise one
with the spaghetti straps, honey.
No, I was looking
for today's galleys.
Right there on your desk.
I see. Thank you.
Not the navy suit?
Hello.
What can I get you?
Cosmopolitan, please.
Before you make any demands,
just remember Cindy's column
was close to extinction
a few weeks ago.
You look incredible.
I'm ready to listen,
and I'm open to compromise,
but please keep in mind
her recent success
was partly fueled
by my patience and leniency.
When was the last time
you were on a date?
Of course, I do intend
to play hardball.
With a man that thought
you were beautiful?
Business is business.
A date that kept you up
all night thinking about it?
This is a business meeting.
And I've given up dating.
Oh, given up?
Sounds like you've
been hurt pretty badly.
That bad, huh?
I was involved with someone.
As it turns out,
I wanted one man
to fulfill my every need,
he wanted every woman
to fulfill his one.
His wife kicked him out, too.
Now, about this contract.
So clearly, you know what you
don't want in a man.
What do you want?
Someone who can concentrate.
- Seriously.
- Thank you.
What every woman wants.
Someone warm.
Someone sensitive.
Someone who'll cry
when I smack him.
Really?
What do you want in a man?
Someone who's not deceitful.
This contract...
Sorry. Right.
Okay...
I think a 5% increase
in salary is fair.
For a transit worker.
50% of the profit increase,
move the column to page four.
I see you came prepared.
- Okay.
- So tell me...
What is it, exactly,
that you want in a woman?
Cindy, for example?
Maybe 50% is a little high.
Clearly even you
have expectations.
Front page billing,
and 10% of the profit increase.
What does she do to deserve
this kind of loyalty?
Cindy changed my life
without even knowing it.
Did she?
Her terms seem fair.
I'll have my attorney
draw up papers.
That's it?
Do your business and leave?
I feel so cheap.
I told you I was reviewing
a performance artist tonight.
I could walk you to a cab.
Or, you know, tag along.
I'm not so sure
you would enjoy this.
It's very progressive.
You don't think
I'd fit in with the elitist,
high-brow, artsy fartsy
downtown scene?
I can be as progressive
as the next guy.
Okay, come on.
What is "projected pastels?"
You'll see.
Okay, maybe not
as progressive as the next guy.
The artist inserts the hose
and fills himself with paint.
You're kidding.
You're not kidding.
Now he'll projectile
release the paint
onto the canvas.
Whatever happened to brushes?
He calls it "Enemart."
It represents the waste
of his life
being released
from the bowels of his being.
Do you find this offensive?
No. what about this
could possibly be offensive?
I'm so sorry.
Just because I got
a little paint in the face
from a man's ass?
But it was a well
respected ass.
You should have
seen your expression.
It was actually kind of cute.
You think so?
I cannot believe you did that.
Hey, dude.
Blow me!
Hello? Could you cash
your paycheck, please,
so I can balance
my books for once?
Then what am I going to put
under my coffee cup, Steven?
Iris, you're killing me.
I just want to let
you know that.
Then suffer in silence, Steven!
Uh-oh.
She doesn't want
to see you right now.
- Did she say that?
- She implied it,
when she said she doesn't
want to see you right now.
Have you seen
the amount of mail for Cindy?
You and I both know
it's because of me.
Now, I want to see Page,
and I won't be told no.
No!
Page.
What's going on?
I no longer
have a problem with Cindy's column,
so you can
deliver it to Iris...
This is about you
kissing me last night.
Me?! You?
I did not.
It sure tasted like you.
You leaned in...
and I lost my balance.
And fell onto my face?
It was an unfortunate accident.
I know.
Don't you just hate it
when two people
accidentally connect?
Page, what is going on?
Well, let's see.
You're in a relationship,
that's infidelity.
- Actually, I came to tell you...
- I'm not finished.
Your significant other
works for me,
that's unethical.
She's become my biggest asset,
that's plain fact.
If you'd cheat on her,
you'd cheat on me,
that's common sense.
And I want you
to leave this office,
that's about it.
No, it's not.
there's something that I have to tell...
- I don't want to hear it!
- Stop interrupting me!
Cindy is not
who you think she is.
I know.
How do you know?
The letters.
You could tell
from the letters?
Yes.
Now they've started writing me.
Listen to this,
"Dear editor, I wrote
Cindy for advice
on what to do about
my husband hitting me.
She put things into perspective
the way none of my family or friends could.
They all told me
to save my marriage.
Cindy told me to save myself.
I got out, thanks to her.
If she has given this gift to me,
I can only imagine how
she's affected others.
God bless you and Cindy."
she is not the person
who I thought she was... at all.
Cindy has become the difference
in people's lives.
And she should know that.
She does.
I won't be bothering you,
anymore, Page.
I'll have Cindy email
her column from now on.
Can I help you?
Lucy Stone, FOX news,
"New York report."
- And you are?
- Wondering what you're doing here.
I just wanted to ask
a few questions
to the woman
that seems to have all the answers.
Cindy doesn't do interviews.
She prefers to keep
her anonymity.
Can I use your phone
to check in with the newsroom?
Sure.
It'll wait.
We only trust secure land lines.
Do you mind if I
use your restroom?
It's broken.
I can give you a cup.
Okay, I'll tell you what,
here is my card,
in case she changes her mind
when she sees it's Lucy Stone.
You'll be the first one
she calls, Lucy Stone.
- And again, you are?
- Gonna close the door now.
No, no, no, tell him I'm busy.
I have no time
to talk to him now.
If worse comes to worst,
I'll call him tomorrow at his office.
Can I help you?
Bye-bye.
Ms. Hensen,
I was hoping we
could help each other.
I believe this is
my desk, Mr. Simpson.
I know this because
I'm on the wrong side of it.
Well, forgive me.
So you know who I am?
You own my competition,
and I wouldn't know who you are?
What I don't know
is what you're doing here.
Well, I...
I have a little
proposition for you.
Judging by
your uninvited intrusion,
I'm sure it's very little.
You seem like a no nonsense woman,
and I admire that.
At least I know I'm
dealing with an equal.
Any woman who aspires
to be equal to men in business,
simply lacks ambition.
Okay.
How's this for ambition?
I want to buy out
Cindy's contract.
Cindy's not for sale.
I happen to know
this newspaper is losing money.
You can't afford
not to sell her.
When I want something,
Ms. Hensen,
I usually get it.
You'll have to get it,
somewhere else.
If you'll excuse me.
Never wrestle
with a pig, Ms. Hensen,
you'll both get dirty,
only the pig likes it!
At least I know what species of animal
I'm dealing with.
Good day, Mr. Simpson.
This is "FOX 5, live."
- Live from lower Manhattan...
- Did I tell you I was an early riser?
So who is this advice columnist
who has the answers,
...but for some reason
chooses anonymity?
New York is asking,
"Who is Cindy?"
I ordered a special meal,
and there is nothing special
about this.
I should be on your list,
Cindy Styne.
The Cindy Styne?
Yeah. Why?
I love your column.
You've read my column?
I even wrote to you.
But you haven't answered it yet.
Really?
Was your letter stupid?
- Pardon?
- You wouldn't believe
some of the ridiculous letters
I used to get.
Idiots out there.
You know, somehow I thought
you'd be different.
No. I'm the same.
This is your captain.
We're starting our descent
into New York shortly.
And we up here in the flight deck
want to thank you
for flying with us.
And we hope you have
a pleasant stay in New York,
or whatever
your final destination.
Witnesses reported to us that
they spotted Cindy Styne dining.
Oh, you have to go?
What a pity.
Okay, so long, I'll talk
to you again.
Oh!
Thank you very much.
The phones are
ringing off the hook.
I've been on the phone so much,
I'm developing a bicep.
Biceps go the other way.
Oh. Matt Lauer
personally called.
- I talked to him.
- This is insane.
And the wire services called
to talk about
national syndication!
- That's great.
- I'm so happy for you.
For me, back to the grind.
- Iris?
- Or not.
Last year, when you
got that horrific flu,
How long were you out?
Including the days I lied...
and went to club med,
about two and a half weeks.
But I got sick there.
I've been ignoring
my intuition.
I'm going to go see Cindy.
Page, is that wise?
Let me rephrase that,
that's not wise.
Is there something
you're not telling me?
Almost daily.
Who is it?
It's Page.
Shit!
I heard that, Ryan.
Open the door!
I'm in the shower.
I need to talk to Cindy.
Now is not a good time.
Open the door!
She's not here.
Where is she?
The media's been hounding us.
She couldn't get any rest
so I sent her to a private hospital.
I looked up the doctor
you said was Cindy's physician.
He's a plastic surgeon.
Right.
I want the truth.
The truth is...
Dr. Sherman
is a plastic surgeon.
And he wasn't
treating Cindy for the flu.
Keep talking.
What happened is...
Cindy's breast implants...
she has them, you know?
They shifted so radically,
that she became...
frontally disfigured,
a one breasted hunchback.
It was like talking
to a Picasso in Chanel.
- Oh my god...
- Yeah, it was terrible.
You must think
I'm a complete idiot.
I don't,
but if you feel I must...
let me tell
you something, Ryan,
I can spot bullshit
from a blimp in a fogstorm.
Now where the hell is she?
Oh god.
The real truth is...
Cindy went to Brazil.
- Ryan!
- No, listen!
Three months ago,
I was a great liar,
with a great job, which I lost.
So Cindy left me.
I couldn't find another job
so I took hers.
You took Ci...
Wait a minute...
You've been illegally
impersonating Cindy?
Perpetuating a hoax
and lying to my face?
It sounds a lot worse
when you say it.
Do you understand
the legal ramifications of this?
Yes, I am a fraud.
There will be
a huge scandal, Ryan!
The papers will crucify me...
No... wait...
I am a paper.
I'll have to crucify myself.
- I wanted to tell you the truth.
- Then why didn't you?
Because I didn't want you
to know I was a fraud.
And I needed a reason
to keep seeing you.
You're the first woman
that's made me
care about something
other than myself.
Oh, please!
Add that to your list
of lies and deception.
Everything you've said
to me has been a lie.
Is there anything, at all,
about you that's true?
Just... the stuff
you printed.
I am so out of here.
I love you.
The hardest part about this
was not being able to tell you.
Or kiss you.
You really think
I would let you kiss me?
After this?!
How clich is that?
What? "Passion
overtakes them"?
Who do you think
you're dealing with here?
I don't know.
I just love you.
Let me tell you something...
Cindy, where do you see
the column going?
- Cindy, why the secrecy?
- Where have you been hiding?
What the hell is going on?
Get my car.
Hurry!
Hurry? You never wanted
me to hurry before.
Before my temperature
goes down.
Stop complaining,
you always wanted a nooner.
Yeah, but what's the rush
to have children?
Cindy's having one, so...
- it got me thinking.
- Cindy's in Brazil.
- Cindy's in Brazil?!
- What? No, I mean...
Cindy's bra is chilled.
Let's make babies.
Okay.
Oooh!
Owww!
- What are you doing?
- It's the yoga.
It familiarizes me with muscles
I never even knew I had.
I... I can't move the...
Oh my god! My...
Exactly.
Now tell me what's going on?
I don't know anything!
I swear!
Ok-aaay.
Talk!
Feel the love!
Okay, okay!
I'll talk! I'll talk!
So?
Have I redeemed myself?
Almost.
Keep trying.
You are an amazing woman.
Apparently, so are you.
Who else knows about this,
besides you and...
clearly... Iris?
My friend, Barry.
But I trust him.
Eventually,
someone's going to find out.
How is anyone
going to find out?
Cindy?
Welcome home.
Ryan!
I have been to hell
without a sunblock.
It was awful!
Brazil has no air conditioning,
mosquitoes the size
of premature babies,
and nobody speaks
a real language.
And then, Ryan,
when I got off the plane,
I was totally
attacked by paparazzi,
like a celebrity.
What is going on?
What the hell is going on?
In a nutshell,
you left, my life collapsed.
I said you were sick,
took over your column.
It took off, you became famous.
The column took off,
and you've been writing it?
- Actually, I've...
- Did you know he was me?
I didn't then.
But I do now.
So... you've been me,
while doing her,
you used to do me,
but now you are me?
Maybe?
Wait a minute, wait a minute.
You're the one that left me.
Ryan, I have an innocent,
little affair in Brazil,
and you not only steal my job,
you sleep with my boss?
Oh my god!
You're alive!
- Ryan's been writing your column!
- I know.
He's telling everyone
that you are on your deathbed.
I know.
- He's also having an affair.
- I know.
No offense, Cin, but you're
bursting my bubble butt, here.
Isn't it higher?
Much.
Ryan...
Ryan, I'm so sorry.
Cathy used her sexual web to make
me spill everything.
- Hey!
- Oh! oh.
Oh, not good.
This must be the friend
you can trust.
Page, Barry.
Barry, Page.
Page, Cathy.
Cathy, Page.
And you all know Cindy.
Mmm, the victim.
I think everybody should leave.
Cindy and I have
some talking to do.
I'm not going anywhere.
I'm mad at you!
And Cindy needs me.
I thought we'd go to Bergdorf's
on the way home.
Call me.
Right. uh, well...
I should be going too.
Yeah, and leave the sheet.
I'll get my stuff out tomorrow.
No! Her, leave.
You...
I forgive. Eventually.
Cindy, I'm in love with page.
Please!
You don't even
like smart women.
I'm not the same person.
You wouldn't even like me.
You'll meet someone else.
You're young, attractive...
vulnerable,
emotionally unavailable...
everything a man looks for
in a woman, just...
not this man.
Mmm, fine then.
Well, now there, see?
I knew that we could
all be understanding,
- and amicable, and...
- I want my job back,
at quadruple my old salary,
and what used to be your office.
And completely irrational.
Cindy, no.
This column is
too important
to too many lives.
Too bad. I'm tired.
So you two have about
a second to decide,
or I go right now
to NBC news, "Live at 6:00."
Tick-tock over here.
You can't have the column back.
Fine.
Watch me on TV.
I'll be live at 6:00.
You'll be dead by 6:30.
That went well.
Excuse me, Ms. Styne.
What?
A moment of your time,
if I may?
I don't talk to
unattractive strangers.
Is that your rolls?
Yes, I'm Donald Simpson.
And I own "The New York
Chronicle" as well as 32 other papers.
And I'd like your column
"Cindy-cated" across the country.
You should know,
I'm not the one...
I'm offering
six figures a year.
- But you should know...
- Plus an expense account.
- Keep talking.
- How about a company car?
Like a Mercedes SL-anything?
All you have to do
is sign some papers.
- She's bluffing.
- She's not bluffing.
You're right,
she's not bluffing.
Go after her.
She's not bluffing.
- Is this for real?
- Absolutely.
Cindy!
What's wrong with us?
I don't know.
We should be upset.
Things couldn't be worse.
Then why am I so happy?
Well, because you
finally got me into bed?
Well, there's that.
If all this happened
so the two of us
could be together,
then it was worth it.
We may be screwed,
but we're screwed together.
Look on the bright side,
tomorrow morning
when we wake up,
we get the unfortunate pleasure
of watching Simpson
announce his victory on TV.
And if I know Cindy,
she'll be right there with him,
gloating.
I don't even care.
How about you?
Cindy...
I need your help.
Of course you do.
I can inject some of the fat
I took from Cathy's ass
into it... it'll give you
at least an extra two inches.
- Barry, wake up!
- What? what?
I need 200 grand,
and I need it now.
Mmm-mmm-mmm.
- No.
- No?
No.
Ryan...
you're a bad stockbroker.
See, you lose people's money.
I'm not a stockbroker anymore.
Exactly, I'm not giving
my money to a...
female columnist.
- I'm not a female.
- You could be.
Barry, you gotta help me.
- No, I can't... no.
- Barry, I got nowhere else to go!
- It's too much!
- I got nowhere else to go.
Besides, Ryan,
all my money's tied up.
What about Cathy's money?
Okay.
- Really?
- What are friends for?
Looks good for the last issue.
Well, well.
You usually sneak out of bed
and leave a woman
in the middle of the night?
You called?
I'm sorry. But last night
I came up with
an idea that could
save your paper.
- How?
- Beating Simpson at his own game.
If I can get 200 grand,
I can turn it into millions.
I borrowed 50.
How much do you have?
She has nothing.
Less than nothing.
If you count interest.
Damn it. where am I going
to get my hands on 150 grand?
Here's my checkbook.
Iris, no.
I don't want your money.
You have 150 grand?
- In one of my accounts.
- She's loaded.
I'm a great housekeeper.
Three divorces...
I kept every house.
- She just works here for fun.
- Or until I find my...
next husband.
Iris, I'll pay you back.
Oh, I don't want it back.
I just want a piece.
Iris!
I want part ownership
of whatever he has planned,
or I'll cash all my paychecks,
and break you.
I couldn't think
of a better partner.
Oh, no!
It's painfully clear
that you've been using me
- to get to her.
- And you mapped out a very direct route.
But... I have, it seems,
found consolation
in the arms of another man.
A younger man!
Whoever he is,
he's a lucky man, too.
You bet your ass!
Andy, how are you?
Good to see you.
Willy, how are you doing?
- Hey, Doris.
- Hey, Ryan.
Hello.
Excuse me.
Can I help you?
I don't think so,
but thank you.
Well, well.
What are you doing here,
Turner?
I thought you'd be
leavin' off your famous girlfriend.
Remember when I said your wife
was moderately attractive?
Yeah.
I lied.
I didn't know
how lucky you are.
You're not looking for a job?
Tables are about to turn, Carl.
Ryan! What are you doing here?
- You're looking at your new client.
- What?
I want to buy 50,000 shares
of Simpson publishing.
Now.
I told you, no investments.
We're ruined.
Ruined.
Bye-bye,
designer clothes.
Now, I'll have to shop
on Canal street.
Bye-bye to our vacation.
You promised me
you would take me to Egypt
to see that giant sphincter.
What about our mortgage, huh?
Bye-bye,
doorman, co-op.
We'll end up living
in a refrigerator carton,
wearing Kleenex boxes
for bedroom slippers,
and snatching pigeons
for a little protein,
praying for rain
so we can shower.
And if you think
I'm selling my jewelry,
you've got
another thing coming.
And let me tell
you something else,
"Mr. best friend"!
I hope you have the numbers
of some very good hookers,
because my legs are shut.
Do you hear me?!
Welded.
Yeah...
and an egg roll.
Yeah, "welded."
I'll bring you to the mike,
and you'll say how happy
you are to be part of
the Simpson publishing empire,
- I'll take over from there.
- Yeah, whatever!
- How do I look?
- Like gold.
Oh.
Donny... oh!
It's beautiful.
A popular columnist
may be defecting
to another paper.
Who? when?
About an hour is all
I can legally say,
but you can do the rest
since you are...
Lucy Stone.
Thank you, Jim.
And here in New York,
reliable sources tell me that
everyone's favorite advice
columnist may be a free agent.
Could that be what today's
press conference is about?
- Over here.
- That's the car, boys.
Stand back.
Stand back.
Mr. Simpson.
Mr. Simpson, can you
confirm the rumors?
Please, sir?
Ladies and gentlemen,
Cindy Styne.
Will you be leaving
"The journal"?
- No comment now.
- No comment.
Cindy, where have you been?
No comment on that, either.
Tell us about the dress.
The dress?
I had it made.
Rumors that popular
columnist Cindy Styne
might be defecting
to the "New York Chronicle"
has sent Simpson's stocks
up eight points.
Now what?
Let's go watch a victory.
So, we've successfully
concluded
an exclusive
five year contract.
And after lengthy negotiations,
I'm very pleased to announce
the acquisition
of "Ask Cindy."
Which will debut next week
in National syndication.
Amy, get ready.
Ryan, it's going up so fast,
the ticker can't keep up!
So without further ado,
let me introduce
our new Chronicle girl,
Ms. Cindy Styne.
Cindy.
Amy?
- How much is it up?
- 30 points!
Hah!
We just made a million five.
Thank... ooh.
- Thank you, Donny.
- Sell.
Sell.
- You're out.
- Good.
Nice move.
I'm excited to be part
of the Simpson
publishing family.
- Thank you, Cin...
- And...
Excuse me.
And...
things are gonna be
different from now on.
Take it all, and sell it short.
Are you sure?
- What are you doing?
- Trust me.
I used to be
pretty good at this.
I'm betting that Simpson
is about to go down.
...'Cause my life has
been a living hell.
See, it wasn't me
writing my column.
I was in Brazil.
- Ladies and gentlemen.
- Don't bother.
It was an impostor,
my ex-boyfriend
forging my advice.
But I am back now,
so no more of that
pseudo-sensitive crap.
- From now on...
- Thank you, Cindy!
Thank you very much.
Ms. Styne's humor
is one of the reasons
the Simpson publishing
company is fortunate to have her.
- Let's gloat.
- Let's.
This conference is over.
Hey! We got
a new breaking story.
Mr. Simpson?
Congratulations.
She's all yours.
Donald.
When you're screwed,
you're screwed.
Come on!
Are you hungry?
I could eat.
We made how much?
Well, you made...
It was your money.
Oh! Wha...
I have no idea.
I'm sorry,
but he's in a meeting.
Don't start with me.
Donny!
I need some help!
Whoa!
- Honey.
- Yeah.
Is my tummy gonna look
all right after this?
Like your new ass...
but flat...
...and no crack.
"Dear Ryan,
I want to propose to
the only woman I ever loved,
But I'd like to do it
in a surprising way.
Any advice?
Signed...
...me."
Hi.
- Are you ready to go yet?
- Yeah.
As soon as you approve this.
Okay.
Really?!
Yes!
Wait! My purse!