Blunt Talk

Previously on Blunt Talk...

It's the Falklands all over again, Harry.

- The anniversary of the Falklands is coming up.- Hey!

And that... no, that is when you and Harry really go nuts.

- Who's Harry? - Major.

Don't leave me!

I saw what that boy has between his legs.

- I am genuinely attracted to you. - You are?

I glanced at you in the men's room.

You're not circumcised.

I haven't had sex since the 20th century.

- Phil, I'm sorry. - It's okay.

My thing is to wear no underwear.

Then I ride the bus

and I just hope somebody sees my noodle and my wontons.

- You don't remember writing this because you didn't.- I'm sorry?

So what are you, breast man or an ass man?

I'm a foot man.

I don't get it. Who is this idiot?

It's Moby.

You dating Moby-Dick?

It's just Moby, no Dick, and, yes, I am.

- Morning, Harry. - Morning, Major.

- Sleep all right? - Oh, yes.

So good to be sleeping in the open air.

And, you know, I had quite an erotic dream.

Burt Lancaster again, sir?

Oh, certainly not. No.

My dream was about Death Sentence Suzanne.

It was somewhat carnal.

Excellent news, sir.

Oh, that night with her, Harry.

It was one to remember.

Yes, sir.

Thank you.

Her hair fanned out on the pillow.

And that night, I experienced

a total erasure of self,

which so rarely happens.

I wouldn't know, sir.

Oh, no, of course. Oh, your issues.

Well, a good orgasm, Harry, is like a comet.

It begins in the pelvis,

shoots up the spine like a flame,

sears across the mind,

culminating in a red explosion

followed quickly by a black void.

So a red comet, sir, and then a black void?

But, the black void

could be an intimation of death.

Right.

Your eggs, sir.

Oh, thank you, Harry.

You know, it's hard to believe

it's been 33 years since the war ended.

It's still so vivid, sir.

- I close my eyes, I'm there. - Mm-hmm.

You know, Major, we've never really talked about the war.

I mean, the scars that are unseen.

Yes, I know.

Walter, Red, do I smell bacon?

Morning, Ronnie. Would you like a coffee?

Oh, don't encourage him, Harry.

Oh, yeah. Great. I'll be right over. Just one sec.

Oh. Great.

Sorry, sir.

I'd say thank God it's Friday,

but I'm an atheist.

I'm agnostic, but I do pray a lot.

Yeah, me, too. I don't know what else to do when I get scared.

Hey, are you gonna go to Walter's party?

Of course. He wants everyone to go.

Are you bringing anybody?

No, I want Walter to completely reform

his opinion of me as an oversexed woman.

- Right. - Here's your report, Celia.

Oh, thank you. Are you bringing anyone?

Uh, no.

No, I'm probably just gonna leave early, you know?

- Why? - I don't know.

It seems like every time I go to a party,

somebody accidentally spits their food into my mouth.

- Come on. - I'm not kidding.

I'm like a... a Venus flytrap.

A lot of times the other person knows they spat in my mouth,

but we pretend it didn't happen.

Ugh, that's terrible.

Yeah, last party I didn't even bother eating my own food.

Well, if you stick with me, I won't eat anything

and I won't spit in your mouth.

Okay. Promise?

All right.

So, what are you two doing?

A little World War II cosplay?

Cosplay?

You know, role playing with costumes, huh?

Don't be disgusting.

No, Ronnie, let me explain.

We do this every few years on the anniversary of the Falklands

to celebrate the bloody war coming to an end.

Oh, I get it. A camping party.

You should have invited me.

I was a Boy Scout, if you can believe it.

I got my first badge in tossing salad.

Well, we're having a proper party tonight.

- Perhaps you'd like to come. - Sure, and I'll bring Sylvia.

She still asks about you, you know.

- She does? - Mmm.

What are you doing?

Push ups. I want to look buff for the party.

I can't believe how fast you've become bisexual.

I know.

So you think you're gonna meet somebody?

Maybe. I'm feeling very lush.

Open. What about you?

- Oh, I'm bringing a date. - You're dating?

I thought you were going on vacation to find yourself.

You can date before a vacation.

Is Rosalie okay with this?

Well, she's gonna bring Teddy.

But it might be weird

'cause the girl I met is also named Rosalie.

It's why I noticed her on Facebook.

- Ew. Morning, Walter. - Morning.

Walter, Dr. Weiss is in your office.

Damn. I'd forgotten.

Uh, wait here, Harry.

- Work on your knitting. - Yes, Major.

Well done, Shelly.

Bet you'd make an excellent arm wrestler.

- Really? - Oh, yeah.

Arm wrestling is a passion of mine,

and I know who's good and who isn't.

Yeah, Shelly. Yeah, you have value.

Yeah, you're a good girl.

Come on, Shelly.

Hey.

Morning, sir.

Jim. You can call me Jim.

Yes, sir.

Hey, uh, Harry, what are you always knitting?

What is this?

It's a hat for the major.

Being bald, he's vulnerable to drafts.

That's nice of you.

Harry, I... I think it's beautiful,

but why are you so devoted to Walter?

I mean, I know he deserves it, but...

But it seems excessive?

- Well... - It's not.

33 years ago,

the Major saved my life.

I'd taken shrapnel and would have bled to death

slowly,

which is not a pretty way to go.

- I didn't... I didn't know. - Yeah.

He risked his life to save mine.

So the least I can do, Jim, knit him a hat..

The truth is, Doctor, for all the sex I've had,

there have been very few moments of profound happiness.

What holds you back?

I don't want to reveal myself.

I live in public, but...

oh, I have secrets. The war.

Look, can we talk about something else?

I've never heard you expound on my anal anxiety.

Walter. Gardner wants to see you in his office.

We're in session.

Is that little minx gonna be at your party?

Gardner wants you to replace your Falklands editorial

because while you were in session with Dr. Nutso,

an Indiana congressman called Jeff Roberts

was exposed by a male prostitute.

Roberts was supportive of all the anti-gay legislation there.

Oh, God.

That is the oldest story there is.

The self-hating, closeted politician.

Well, it's a huge story and we have to cover it.

Oh, Bob, we were just coming to you.

Yeah, I'm not walking enough according to my app, so I decided to sprint over.

- Rosalie tell you? - Yes.

I do not want Blunt Talk involved

in another one of these tired tabloid witch-hunts.

Uh-uh, this is a plane crash. This is a sex plane crash

and your numbers have started to dip since your sex scandal.

- But my Falklands editorial... - No, this is important to me.

It's very important.

I'll see you at the party. Looking forward to it.

And Daddy is bringing a date.

- Whoo. - Damn it.

I hate covering these kinds of things.

I have felt the noose of public shaming too often of late.

So tell them that.

Say you're sick of all this puritanical bullshit.

I know I am.

So what Congressman Roberts

stood for is reprehensible,

but what he did in the privacy of a hotel room is not.

I, for one, would love to see a day when there would be no judgment

and no labels for what consenting adults do