Dylan & Zoey

- -

I don't really know if I could pinpoint,

you know, how exactly the idea came about.

I think that there was one day, you know, and admittedly,

this is one of my more depressing days.

But I was thinking about the idea

about how a cat has nine lives.

And not in a good way, but more in, like, thought.

A cat has to live nine lives!

Like, are you fucking kidding me?

I mean, I--

I barely have the wherewithal to live one.

I sat with this some more, and...

I thought about how I could create a little show around it.

What eventually came up was, you know, there is a cat

um, who can't think of a single reason to live one life,

who is forced to evaluate

every other cat's wonderful plans

for how they wish to utilize, like, their... blessing.

Yeah, yeah. Because that's how society sees it.

Yeah, exactly.

You know, in their society,

you know, which is not much different

than ours, to be honest.

But, you know, the majority population, like,

has this concept of a god who has,

you know, bestowed upon them, you know,

this gift of nine lives for a reason compared to,

you know, all the other inferior creatures.

So it's-- it's basically the same existential shit

that we go through, just like...

...nine times it.

- - This guy gets it.

We'll be right back to talk with this genius

right here after a break.

From Little Kitty kitty litter.

If you have a little kitty and he's a bit of a shitter,

use the Little Kitty litter.

Able to breathe a little bit?

- -

I'm glad you texted, by the way.

Yeah, of course.

I thought we were quickly becoming

the happy-birthday text friends.

Um, so do I need to worry about anyone coming up to us?

Oh, God, no. I'm a writer.

If anyone outside that small legion

knows my face, then run, they're probably a psychopath.

-Fair enough. -

So, to what do I owe this pleasure?

What could possibly bring you out

-to this godforsaken city? -

A godforsaken bachelorette party?

Oh, fuck.

-Yeah. -Sounds fun.

-You mispronounce miserable. -

That bad, huh?

It's just like some

fucking stupid live for the weekend mentality. It's dumb.

I-- I guess I just hang on

to the whole romanticism of marriage.

And so the idea of giving someone

a bachelorette party is,

you know, their little rite of passage

for their last bit of fun forever.

It's a nice exchange

for spending a lifetime not having to be alone.

There's something different about you,

and I'm just wondering if it's what I think it is.

Nose job.

Botox, breast implants.

You're not a virgin anymore.

Fuck you. You're fucking not.

-You better give me details. -No details.

What? A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell?

More like a gentleman hasn't.

-Oh. -Yep.

Sorry. Usually just bring it up right away.

No, that's fine.

I told myself I wouldn't bring it up because, you know,

I didn't want to be a downer.

You're not a downer.

This is it.

Fuck off.

Ta-da!

You, uh...

You want a coffee?

Hmm.

Cool. All right.

Yes, yes, yes.

You're in for a treat, by the way.

- -

- I could use a jolt. - No, no, no...

This is so much more than a jolt.

I... I get to brag a little bit.

I got a new Chemex and burr grinder

and I got Stumptown beans.

-Pretentious? -My burr grinder.

And Stumpville coffee.

Okay, first of all, it's Stumptown.

-Yeah, whatever. -And second of all, I--

There's nothing wrong with having taste.

This tastes like fruit taking a shit in coffee.

That's what coffee is supposed to taste like.

-No! -Oh, my God.

You need to get out more.

Mature your palate.

So, how are you?

-I'm good. -Oh, God.

-Is that how we're gonna do it? -All right, all right.

I don't know what you want me to say.

Well, don't answer me like you're a fucking bank teller.

Like, "How are you?"

"Good. How are you? How's your day?"

I honestly think it's a pointless question.

Like it's fucked if you do, fucked if you don't.

You know, either I say I'm good, you know,

and we carry on with a nice little break from the world.

Or I tell you how I really feel,

and then the mood turns into a bummer.

Oh, my God, it's not a bummer

if I'm the person and I'm asking you.

Yeah, but that's the thing.

Hey, everyone says they want to know,

but then as soon as you tell them, they're like...

...because who wants to spend time

working through someone else's problems?

Okay, I feel like it depends on the person, though.

For certain superficial relationships, hell yeah, 100%.

I don't actually want to know how you're doing,

but if it's someone you're close to,

isn't that kind of point?

-Maybe I'm wrong. -No, you're not wrong. I just--

- -

-I got to take it. -I mean--

Hello?

Yeah, no, no. I can talk right now.

All right? Hold on a second.

-Let's get you a beer. -Yeah.

Hold on. Let me get--

Sorry. Let me just get to my desk real quick.

Okay and--

Uh, yeah, so not you--

All right, I'm ready.

Um, so, uh,

I like the esthetic of the heavier set one,

so, ballpark, or something. I was thinking was like,

Well, I mean,

do you not believes the father's blessings?

- -Yeah, yeah.

Yeah, maybe a little bit too creepy Russian.

Uh-- but I mean--

You know, somewhere in that range?

I-- I got company here though,

so I'll-- We'll talk about this later.

All right. Talk to you. Bye.

- -Wow!

I knew I should've made you wait outside.

Oh, that's fine. No, it's good.

You're just...

...going to ze hell.

-Is he based on your priest? -Ooh. Um--

Okay. Fun little Dylan update.

I love Dylan updates.

I'm not Catholic anymore.

You're not Catholic?

I'm sorry. I'm having a hard time

believing this because last time I was in town,

you made me go to mass with you.

You had fun. You got baked in my car before we went in.

Couldn't have done it without it.

Honestly, it made watching you fascinating.

How long has it been?

I don't know. A couple of years.

How? How?

-How? -Yeah, how?

I-- I just stopped believing.

Oh, so you're an atheist?

No, no, no. I believe in God.

Um, I just don't think of him as the Almighty,

or, you know, the father.

I don't even know if I think of him as a Him or a being at all.

Maybe just, uh, an energy.

Oh, so you've traded in Catholicism

for New-Agey bullshit?

Okay. I haven't traded in anything for anything.

And don't hit me with that Mercury retrograde bullshit.

Sort of hoped it would have been the serial pedophilia